#sometimes these bus stops are insane I swear to god because there's like 6 stops that r the same

[haneys]

thank you lord that thr nap helped me with sobering a bit because I was high as balls and if I had to find my way to my train station then... genuelly no shoot

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[headfullofstories]

Truly Monstrous Luck - part 5

I stand outside of the 6 story red brick apartment complex where Justin lives. Yvonne brought me to the bank earlier to get a new debit card so I could take the subway by myself, but I ended up asking her to come with, anyways. I didn’t want to be around all those people alone yet; I’m worried that the voices from yesterday will come back again.

“You gonna be okay?” Yvonne asks, resting her hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need to tell him anything you don’t want to.”

I nod, and hold onto her arm for a moment. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

She glares at me, a playful glint in her eye. “I will worry as much as I want,” she ruffles my hair a little and softens her expression, “and you are absolutely someone worth worrying over.”

I nod grudgingly, and take a few deep breaths before letting go of her arm and starting towards the door. “I’ll try not to take long.”

“That’s fine baby, take all the time you need.” She responds, “I don’t have anywhere I need to be, I have a friend covering my sector of the city today.”

“Are you sure?” I stop in front of the door now, “I don’t want to leave you waiting out here.”

“I’ll be fine, Victor,” she insists, “this trip is about you. Now go talk to your brother!”

“O-okay.” I agree, reluctantly, and turn to head inside.

The stairwell is a little creepy as I head up to Justin’s apartment on the 3rd floor, the light on the second floor landing is out and there aren’t any windows, so it’s darker than normal. I grip the straps of my backpack tightly as I ascend, keeping my head down as I count the stairs between landings - 8 per flight, 2 flights per floor, for 2 full floors. I make sure I step on all 32, taking 3 steps on the landings. I settle into the familiarity of the numbers by the time I reach Justin’s floor, turning to the left as soon as I leave the stairwell and pulling out the key to his apartment. I knock on the door as I turn the key in the lock and push my way in.

Justin has a studio apartment, the same place he’s been living for 4 years now. I used to live here, but I moved out last year since living with others has never worked great for me, and it was a really good year while it lasted, but of fucking course something had to fuck it up, and now my former landlord thinks I take hardcore drugs because she didn’t bother to read the label on the vial.

When I walk in, Justin is on his bed typing something on his laptop. As I close the door behind me, he slams his laptop shut, slides it onto his mattress, and runs over to hug me. He’s taller than me by a couple inches - he can rest his head comfortably on top of mine if he’s standing up straight. He wraps me in an overly tight hug, which I reciprocate after a moment of stunned stillness.

“Oh my god, Vic, are you okay? What happened yesterday?” He asks, voice full of anxiety, and he pulls away to look me up and down. “How did you get even paler? Did you catch a cold in the rain yesterday? Where did you stay? Please don’t say you slept on the streets. Why didn’t you come over here?”

“I’m sorry for not coming over.” I mumble, “a, um, a pickpocket took my wallet, so didn’t have any money or a bus card to get over here…”

He looks at me for a moment after I start speaking, and something seems to click after I finish my statement, and he gasps a little. “Oh shit, was that too many questions at once?” I give a small shrug in response. “Fuck, I’m sorry Vic, i just… I got really worried about you last night.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry J.” I mutter, “I would’ve come over here, but…” fuck, I’m actually telling him. Why am I telling him? I don’t have anything prepared, I don’t know how to explain what the actual fuck even happened. Hey bro, I got bit by a vampire on 1st avenue? He’s never gonna believe me.

I take a deep breath and silently hope he’ll believe anything I’m saying. “When I was walking over here yesterday… I got attacked.”

“Attacked?!” He screeches, voice cracking. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

I hesitate for a moment, avoiding eye contact as much as I can. “I’m… I’m mostly fine, but… fuck, I’m gonna sound so fucking crazy.”

He shakes his head a little, “Whatever, maybe I will, but… tell me anyways.”

I look straight into his eyes now, give a little nod, and steel myself as I continue my explanation. “The person who attacked me… he was a vampire. Like, a real, blood-sucking vampire. He was stalking me for a couple blocks, and… he pulled me down an alley and… bit me.” I tug at the collar of my shirt and show him the small mark on my neck.

He looks at me, utterly stunned. “A… vampire bit you. Yesterday, in the middle of New York City.”

“I told you I sound fucking insane.” I grumble. “But I swear I’m not lying. I have the fucking fangs to prove it!” I open my mouth to show him my elongated canines and almost start crying.

The color drains from his face. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He whispers, and pulls me back in for an even tighter hug. “I’m so sorry, Vic. I… I’m your older brother, I should be able to keep you safe… god, I’ve never been able to keep you safe…”

“It’s not your fault, J.” I insist, “Bad things happen and sometimes no one can stop them from happening. I had shitty luck, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but… hey, at least I half died in the coolest way possible.”

He laughs a little at that. I like it when I can get him to laugh; it doesn’t happen very often, especially not recently, but it makes me feel amazing when I can manage it. It makes me feel like maybe I’m not as much of a burden as I tell myself I am.

“You… you’re gonna be okay though, right, Vic?” He asks cautiously as he pulls me back and looks me in the eyes, “have you had any… I don’t know, urges? If you killed someone, I’ll help you hide the body. I promise, whatever you need.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. I had really bad urges right after, but… this really nice lady found me before I woke up, and gave me some… cow’s blood. She brought me to a… facility… that helps people like me.”

He lets out a sigh of relief before he responds. “Oh, thank god. Do you feel safe there? Are the people nice?”

“Yeah, the people are all super nice.” I confirm. “The lady who found me especially, and this vampire dude.”

“Is that where you stayed last night?”

“Yeah. They have a bunch of studio apartments where people live, and I have a room there right now.”

“That’s good, that’s good…” He mutters, and I can see the gears turning in his brain as he thinks of things to ask. “Be… be careful, okay? Try not to kill anyone; I’ll help you hide a body, but I’d really rather that didn’t come up.”

I chuckle a little at that. “Yeah, I’ll do my best.”

He pulls me back in for another hug, and just holds me for a little while.

“Do you need to leave soon?” He asks after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” I mutter, “the lady who found me came with me, I didn’t want to take the subway alone yet.”

He squeezes me tighter, and pulls back a little to knock our foreheads together. “Be safe; I can’t imagine vampires are terribly popular.”

I nod, and slowly back away from his touch. “I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”

He nods. “Love you, Vic.”

I give one last nod, and turn to leave. “Love you, J.”

As soon as I close the door behind me, tears start streaming down my face. That went so much better than I thought, but it took a lot out of me. Fuck, he actually believed me! That alone would be enough to make me start crying tears of pure euphoria, but combined with the emotional stress the tears come all that more easily. I stand there for a moment, do my best to stop crying, and head back down the stairs.

Yvonne is sitting on the front steps when I walk out, and as soon as I open the door she jumps to her feet and spins around to look at me. I just walk right up to her and give her a hug.

"You good, baby?" She asks cautiously; I nod and hold onto her tighter.

“I told him what happened,” I mutter, “and he believed me.”

“That’s good!” She exclaims, “Did he take it well?”

“I… I think so.”

“That’s really great, Victor.” She restates. “Do you want to head out?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

The sun is out today. It’s noon right now, and the subways are busy, mostly with big groups of high school kids. The city is so alive, and for the first time since I moved here, I feel a little out of place. The car we’re in is packed full of teens heading into Manhattan, and surprisingly they don’t take any notice of us.

“Hey, Yvonne?” I ask her after a few minutes, “I really don’t want to seem rude, but… why…"

"Why aren't people looking at me?” She finishes, and I nod a little.

“I’m really sorry if that’s rude.” I mumble, barely audible.

She smiles a little. “That’s fine, Victor, it’s good you asked me instead of accidentally offending a stranger. I have a minor glamour on, so I look a little more human to normal people.”

My eyes go wide at that. “Magic? Can I see? Please?”

She snorts at that. “You’re very easily excitable, huh?”

I nod vigorously. “Can I see it? I wanna see how you look to all of these people!”

She gives me a little nod, and her form begins to shift, like there’s a fog around her, and her features begin to change slightly. Her green skin changes to a shade of brown the color of grizzly bear fur, and her tusks disappear. Her eyes remain the same piercing silver, and her hair remains in midnight black dreads, but the ends are dyed green. My eyes go even wider with awe. She smiles a little wider as the glamour fades away once again.

“That is the coolest fucking thing I’ve seen in the past 24 hours.” I state.

“Kid, if that’s the coolest thing you’ve seen, you have a lot to learn.”

“I want to learn all of it.”

She laughs lightly at that, “Well, I guess that’s not a bad way to spend eternity.”

I smile back at her, and we sit in near silence for the rest of the ride.

[sarahmcmenomy]

Tarot Reflections Playlist

I’ve been working on this for longer than I should probably admit, but I finally finished my complete Tarot Playlist! I’ve chosen one song for each card of the 78-card RWS Tarot deck. In the spirit of the little white book, I have excerpted a line or two from each song to justify its association with its chosen card. Each suit has its own musical themes, and some of the songs were chosen to invoke the elemental association of the suit. The Court Cards get their own playlist because it can double as an astrological playlist. There are also a few sillier songs picked primarily for humor value (though hopefully still in keeping with the theme of the song). What follows is a complete index, so you can easily listen to whichever parts of the playlist you want to or browse the whole thing.

Entire Playlist

Major Arcana

Wands

Cups

Swords

Pentacles

Court Cards

Major Arcana

0. The Fool: “The Wanderer” by U2, The Edge, and Johnny Cash

“I went out there in search of experience, to taste and to touch and to feel as much as a man can before he repents.”

1. The Magician: “I am the Mercury” by Jimmie Spheeris

“For I am the mercury, the light of the morning, looking for shelter in this thunder and this rain. And you, like some windmill, weave light where it's storming, and love, like a potion for the hunger and the pain. Let it rain...”

2. The High Priestess: “Witch” by The Bird and the Bee

“Yes, I am a carnival, a house of mirrors... and I will con you. And all my tricks and all my magic will keep you dizzy with desire...”

3. The Empress: “Suddenly I See” by KT Tunstall

“Her face is a map of the world, is a map of the world... You can see she's a beautiful girl, she's a beautiful girl... And everything around her is a silver pool of light; The people who surround her feel the benefit of it... It makes you calm.”

4. The Emperor: “Viva la Vida” by Coldplay

“I used to rule the world; seas would rise when I gave the word. Now in the morning, I sleep alone, sweep the streets I used to own. I used to roll the dice, feel the fear in my enemy's eyes, listen as the crowd would sing... Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!“

5. The Hierophant: “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers

“He said, ‘Son, I've made a life out of readin’ people's faces, knowin’ what the cards were by the way they held their eyes. So if you don't mind me sayin’, I can see you’re out of aces. For a taste of your whiskey, I’ll give you some advice.’” 

6. The Lovers: “Dance Me to the End of Love” by Leonard Cohen

“Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on; dance me very tenderly and dance me very long. We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above... dance me to the end of love.”

7. The Chariot: “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen

“I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky! Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity. I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva, I'm gonna go, go, go! There's no stopping me!”  

8. Strength: “Roar” by Katy Perry

“I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire, 'cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar, louder, louder than a lion, 'cause I am a champion, and you're gonna hear me roar!” 

9. The Hermit: “Building a Mystery” by Sarah McLachlan

“You live in a church where you sleep with voodoo dolls, and you won't give up the search for the ghosts in the halls... You wear sandals in the snow, and a smile that won't wash away. Can you look out the window without your shadow getting in the way?”

10. The Wheel of Fortune: “Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season)” by the Byrds

“To everything (turn, turn, turn) there is a season (turn, turn, turn) and a time to every purpose, under heaven...”

11. Justice: “Botched Execution” by Shovels and Rope

“I gotta find a friend, someone to tell I didn't do it, but my picture's in the paper and there's no way that I can prove it... and the body's in the closet 'cause I never got to move it... Now the neighbor's kids are talking sayin' everybody knew it... All my little seeds have grown... Sooner, later, come back home...”

12. The Hanged Man: “Philosophy” by Ben Folds Five

“Won't you look up at the skyline, at the mortar, block, and glass, and check out the reflections in my eyes. See they always used to be there, even when this all was grass, and I sang and danced about a high-rise. And you were laughing at my helmet hat... Laughing at my torch...”

13. Death: “End of the Line” by The Traveling Wilburys

“Well it's all right, even when push comes to shove. Well it's all right, if you got someone to love. Well it's all right, everything'll work out fine. Well it's all right, we're going to the end of the line.” 

14. Temperance: “Under Pressure” by Queen

“Turned away from it all like a blind man. Sat on a fence, but it don't work. Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn... Why, why, why? Love, love, love, love, love... Insanity laughs, under pressure we're breaking.”

15. The Devil: “Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones

“Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints, as heads is tails... Just call me Lucifer, 'cause I'm in need of some restraint.”

16. The Tower: “The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning” by the Smashing Pumpkins

“The sewers belch me up; the heavens spit me out. From Ether's tragic I am born again, and now I'm with you now, inside your world of wow, to move in desires made of deadly pretense, ‘til the end times begin.”  

17. The Star: “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree

“Listen as your day unfolds, challenge what the future holds. Try and keep your head up to the sky.”

18. The Moon: “Hope Eyrie” by Leslie Fish

“But we who feel the weight of the wheel, when winter falls over our world, can hope for tomorrow and raise our eyes to a silver moon in the open skies and a single flag unfurled. For the Eagle has landed; tell your children when. Time won't drive us down to dust again.”

19. The Sun: “Sunshine of Your Love” by Cream

“I'm with you my love, the light's shining through on you. Yes, I'm with you my love, it's the morning and just we two. I'll stay with you darling now, I'll stay with you till my seas are dried up... I've been waiting so long, to be where I'm going, in the sunshine of your love.”

20. Judgement: “Ring the Bells” by James

“Ring, ring the bells! Wake the town! Everyone is sleeping. Shout at the crowd! Wake them up! This anger's deeper than sleep! Got to keep awake to what is happening, I can't see a thing through my ambition, I no longer feel my God is watching over me. Got to tell the world we've all been dreaming, this is not the end, a new beginning... I no longer feel my God is watching over me.”

21. The World: “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong

“The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky, are also on the faces of people going by. I see friends shaking hands, saying, ‘how do you do.’ They're really saying, ‘I love you.’ I hear babies crying, I watch them grow... they'll learn much more than I'll ever know. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”

Wands

1. The Ace of Wands: “Spark” by the Bird and the Bee

“Tell me a tale, something with fire, to break from the sorrows. To break through the dirt, piles of earth, to see where the sun goes... What if I stopped just for a while to see if I'm closer? Still half the night, just for a while to see where the sun goes, oh, oh, oh...”

2. The Two of Wands: "First We Take Manhattan” by Leonard Cohen

“I'm guided by a signal in the heavens. I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin. I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons... First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.”

3. The Three of Wands: “Billionaire” by Travie McCoy ft. Bruno Mars

“Oh every time I close my eyes... I see my name in shining lights... Yeah, a different city every night, oh right, I swear, the world better prepare for when I'm a billionaire.” 

4. The Four of Wands: “Eternal Flame” by The Bangles

“Say my name, sun shines through the rain... A whole life so lonely, and then you come and ease the pain. I don't want to lose this feeling, oh... Close your eyes, give me your hand. Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming? Or is this burning an eternal flame?“

5. The Five of Wands: “The Ultimate Showdown” by Lemon Demon

“This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny: good guys, bad guys, and explosions as far as the eye can see... and only one will survive: I wonder who it will be? This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny.”

6. The Six of Wands: “We are the Champions” by Queen

“We are the champions, my friends, and we'll keep on fighting 'til the end! We are the champions! We are the champions! No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions of the world!”

7. The Seven of Wands: “Uprising” by Muse

“Rise up and take the power back. It's time that the fat cats had a heart attack, you know that their time is coming to an end. We have to unify and watch our flag ascend.”

8. The Eight of Wands: “Fast as you Can” by Fiona Apple

“I let the beast in and then I even tried forgiving him, but it's too soon. So I'll fight again, again, again, again, again and for a little while more, I'll soar the uneven wind, complain and blame the sterile land.”

9. The Nine of Wands: “Conquest of Spaces” by Woodkid

“I'm ready to start the conquest of spaces expanding between you and me... Come with the night, the science of fighting, the forces of gravity...”

10. The Ten of Wands: “Running up that Hill” by Kate Bush

“And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, and I'd get him to swap our places, be running up that road, be running up that hill, be running up that building...”

Cups

1. The Ace of Cups: “Quiet” by Milck

“But no one knows me, no one ever will, if I don't say something, if I just lie still. Would I be that monster, scare them all away, if I let them hear what I have to say? I can't keep quiet.”

2. The Two of Cups: “Bus Stop” by The Hollies

“Every morning I would see her waiting at the stop. Sometimes she'd shop, and she would show me what she'd bought. Other people stared as if we were both quite insane... Someday my name and hers are going to be the same.”

3. The Three of Cups: “The Cult of Dionysus” by The Orion Experience

“I'm feeling devious, you're looking glamorous... let's get mischievous... and polyamorous. Wine and women and wonderful vices... Welcome to the cult of Dionysus!”

4. The Four of Cups: “High by the Beach” by Lana del Rey

“I don't wanna do this anymore, it's so surreal. I can't survive if this is all that's real... All I wanna do is get high by the beach, get high by the beach, get high...”

5. The Five of Cups: “What Have I Done to Deserve This?” by The Pet Shop Boys

“I bought you drinks, I brought you flowers. I read you books and talked for hours... Every day, so many drinks, such pretty flowers. So tell me, what have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?”

6. The Six of Cups: “In My Life” by The Beatles

“There are places I'll remember, all my life, though some have changed... Some forever, not for better. Some have gone and some remain...”

7. The Seven of Cups: “Which Will” by Nick Drake

“Which do you dance for? Which makes you shine? Which will you choose now, if you won't choose mine?”

8. The Eight of Cups: “Go West” by The Pet Shop Boys

“(Go West) Life is peaceful there, (go West!) in the open air, (go West!) where the skies are blue... (go West!) This is what we're gonna do.”

9. The Nine of Cups: “No Surprises” by Radiohead

“Such a pretty house... and such a pretty garden... No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises, please...”

10. The Ten of Cups: “Rainbow Connection” by Kermit the Frog

“Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection... the lovers, the dreamers and me.”

Swords

1. The Ace of Swords: “One” by U2

“You say love is a temple, love is a higher law... Love is a temple, love is a higher law. You ask me of me to enter, but then you make me crawl, and I can't keep holding on to what you got, 'cause all you got is hurt.”

2. The Two of Swords: “I Can’t Decide” by The Scissor Sisters

“I can't decide whether you should live or die... Oh, you'll probably go to heaven; please don't hang your head and cry...”

3. The Three of Swords: “The Killing Type” by Amanda Palmer

"I would kill to make you feel. I don't mean kill someone for real. I couldn't do that, it is wrong... But I can say it in a song.”

4. The Four of Swords: “Take it Easy” by The Eagles

“Take it easy, take it easy. Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy. Lighten up while you still can, don't even try to understand, just find a place make your stand. Take it easy.”

5. The Five of Swords: “Young Men Dead” by the Black Angels

“Run for the hills, pick up your feet and let's go. We did our jobs, pick up speed now, let’s move. The trees can't grow without the sun in their eyes, and we can't live if we're too afraid to die.”

6. The Six of Swords: “I Will Survive” by Cake

“At first I was afraid, I was petrified. I kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. But then I spent so many nights just thinking how you'd done me wrong. I grew strong; I learned how to get along.”

7. The Seven of Swords: “Sabotage” by The Beastie Boys

“I can't stand it, I know you planned it! I'mma set it straight, this Watergate. I can't stand rockin' when I'm in here, 'cause your crystal ball ain't so crystal clear. So while you sit back and wonder why I got this fuckin' thorn in my side, oh my god, it's a mirage! I'm tellin' y'all, it's sabotage.”

8. The Eight of Swords: “Whipping Post” by the Allman Brothers Band

“Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel, like I been tied to the whippin' post, tied to the whippin' post, tied to the whippin' post. Good Lord, I feel like I'm dyin'.”

9. The Nine of Swords: “Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums” by A Perfect Circle

“Don't fret, precious, I'm here. Step away from the window, and go back to sleep... safe from pain, and truth, and choice... and other poison devils. See, they don't give a fuck about you, like I do. Count lies like sheep, like sheep, like sheep, like sheep, like sheep, like sheep...”

10. The Ten of Swords: “Hurt” by Johnny Cash

“I hurt myself today to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real. The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting. Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything. What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end.”

Pentacles

1. The Ace of Pentacles: “Dime” by Cake

“I'm a dime, I'm fine, and I shine. I'm freshly minted. I am determined not to be dented by a car or by a plane or anything not yet invented...”

2. The Two of Pentacles: “Down to Earth” by Peter Gabriel

“Did you think that your feet had been bound by what gravity brings to the ground? Did you feel you were tricked by the future you picked? Well, come on down. All these rules don't apply when you're high in the sky, so come on down, come on down.”

3. The Three of Pentacles: “With a Little Help from My Friends” by Joe Cocker

“What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song, I will try not to sing out of key.”

4. The Four of Pentacles: “This is the Life” by “Weird Al” Yankovic

“They say that money corrupts you, but I can't really tell... I got the whole world at my feet, and I think it's pretty swell.”

5. The Five of Pentacles: “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones

“No, you can't always get what you want... You can't always get what you want... You can't always get what you want... But if you try sometimes, you find, you get what you need.”

6. The Six of Pentacles: “Rent” by The Pet Shop Boys

“We never ever argue, we never calculate the currency we've spent... I love you, you pay my rent “

7. The Seven of Pentacles: “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac

“I took my love, I took it down, climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills ‘til the landslide brought me down.” 

8. The Eight of Pentacles: “The Weaver” by Steeleye Span

“The loom goes click and the loom goes clack; the shuttle flies forward and then flies back. The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack... such a wearisome trade is the weaver.” 

9. The Nine of Pentacles: “My Way” by Frank Sinatra

“I've loved, I've laughed and cried. I've had my fill, my share of losing. And now, as tears subside, I find it all, all so amusing... To think I did all that, and may I say, not in a shy way... oh no, no, not me. I did it my way.” 

10. The Ten of Pentacles: “Monument” by Röyskopp and Robyn

“This will be my monument. This will be a beacon when I'm gone, gone, gone... When I'm gone, gone, gone... When I'm gone... So that when that moment comes, I can say I did it all with love, love, love... All with love, love, love... All with love.”

Court Cards

Wands

1. The Page of Wands: “The Arsonist’s Lullaby” by Hozier

“All you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach. Don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash.”

2. The Knight of Wands (Sagittarius, the Archer): “Portrait of the Knight of Wands” by Suzanne Vega

“His mood was melancholy, his attitude severe. His inner burden weighed upon him mightily.” 

3. The Queen of Wands (Aries, the Ram): “The Queen of Hollywood” by the Corrs

“She's never gonna be like the one before. She read it in her stars that there's something more. No matter what it takes, no matter how she breaks...”

4. The King of Wands (Leo, the Lion): “King and Lionheart” by Of Monsters and Men

“And as the world comes to an end, I'll be here to hold your hand, 'cause you're my king and I'm your lion-heart.”

Cups

1. The Page of Cups: “The Salmon Dance” by The Chemical Brothers

“Hello, boys and girls, my name is Fat Lip, and this is my friend, Sammy the Salmon! Today we're gonna teach you some fun facts about salmon and a brand new dance.”

2. The Knight of Cups (Pisces, the Fishes): “Knight of Noir” by Susanne Sundfor

“I can't go back again and lock the door. In the dead of night I hear her call out for more. I want to be stung by the stars, I gave her my soul and my heart, and now I am a slave.”

3. The Queen of Cups (Cancer, the Crab): “The Queen and I” by Gym Class Heroes

“I love it how she breaths booze in the morning... and it’s so sexy how she can't remember last night... I made the fatal mistake of letting her drink again. But who the hell am I to tell her how to live her life?”

4. The King of Cups (Scorpio, the Scorpion): “Sea King” by Eisley 

“Sea King, Sea king, can't you see that you're so silly? Sea King, I know things, and without love you won't get far...”

[Honorable mention: Franz Schubert’s rendition of Goethe’s “Der Koenig in Thule” is probably the ultimate King of Cups song, but it felt too different in musical style -- and language -- to include in this playlist. Still, it’s gorgeous, and the lyrics are perfect.]

Swords

1. The Page of Swords: “The Sword and the Pen” by Regina Spektor

“What if the sword kills the pen? What if the god kills the man? And if he does it with love, well then, it's death from above, and death from above is still a death...”

2. The Knight of Swords (Gemini, the Twins): “Knights of Cydonia” by Muse

“No one's going to take me alive. Time has come to make things right. You and I must fight for our rights. You and I must fight to survive.”

3. The Queen of Swords (Libra, the Scales): “My Snow White Queen” by Evanescence

“You belong to me, my snow white queen... There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over.”

4. The King of Swords (Aquarius, the Water Bearer): “The Idiot Kings” by Soul Coughing

“Batting in the light, my reptile-lidded eyes. And all this strung end to end, is wider than the mind.”

Pentacles

1. The Page of Pentacles: “Sweet Child” by Pentangle

“You've been working so hard all day, won't you take your rest? You've been driving my blues away, now it is my turn. Come fly beneath my wings, sweet child it may not be for long.”

2. The Knight of Pentacles (Virgo, the Virgin): “Knights of Malta” by Smashing Pumpkins

“Where omens scar your door... Like a harvest we're bound and set for war... But no soldier comes...”

3. The Queen of Pentacles (Capricorn, the Goat): "Dreaming of the Queen” by The Pet Shop Boys

“Then carriages arrived... We stood and said goodbye. Diana dried her eyes and looked surprised, for I was in the nude. The old Queen disapproved, but people laughed and asked for autographs.”

4. The King of Pentacles (Taurus, the Bull): “A Farewell to Kings” by Rush

“Cities full of hatred, fear and lies, withered hearts, and cruel, tormented eyes... Scheming demons dressed in kingly guise, beating down the multitude, and scoffing at the wise. Whoa, can't we raise our eyes and make a start? Can't we find the minds to lead us closer to the heart?”

Giant shout-out to the Tarot Nerds Facebook Group for inspiring me. You are the best.

[itscooltobefanficy]

Feeling Alive- Part 11

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Part 1 (Slow Hands)

Part 2 (Stay)

Part 3 (There Will Come a Time)

Part 4 (Weapon of Choice)

Part 5 (Came Here For Love)

Part 6 (Where the Sky Hangs)

Part 7 (When Can I See You Again?)

Part 8 (Manhattan)

Part 9 (Skip To The Good Bit)

Part 10 (Poison & Wine)

Clean

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 12/?: Clean

Word count: 2412

Warnings: swearing and ANGST

Just... YOU GUYS. I am utterly indebted to your enthusiasm and love. Thank you a hundred times. (Because TSwift is who she is, the version of Clean I linked is a cover, but you can find the original on Spotify).

Y: Hope you’re OK, despite the awful situation

Y: Give my best to Steve tomorrow

Y: Try to sleep as much as you can

Y: OK I’m hoping you’re asleep, good night

~~

Friday is your day off. You can’t decide if that’s good or bad. On the one hand, you don’t have to try to get through a day at work, with all that happened yesterday clouding the back of your mind- on the other, you have nothing to distract you from the horrible reality of the situation. You force yourself to get up and make a start on tidying your apartment. Anything to keep your mind from swerving back to the ugly bundle of Steve’s knee resting on stark white blankets, or the expression of hopeless anger on Bucky’s face.

Y: Hope you’re bearing up

Y: Try to keep eating etc.

You know that Bucky’s probably in class or at the hospital, so the fact that he isn’t replying doesn’t bother you too much. Instead you try to stay focused on the tasks in front of you: vacuuming, sweeping, rearranging your bookshelf until finally everything looks neat once more. Then you check the time and pick up the phone.

“Hey!” Wanda’s voice is strangely cheerful in your ears. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Wanda,” You answer, then take a deep breath. What do they say about bad news? There’s no easy way to deliver it. “Ah, it’s about Steve?”

“Steve? Is he OK?”

You silently offer thanks to Wanda’s preternatural talent for reading your voice.

“Um, no. Not really. He’s dislocated his knee.” Even just saying it, your words shake slightly with left-over shock.

“Oh, God. Shit. When did that happen?” You can picture Wanda’s face, creased with helpless concern.

“Yesterday,” You tell her, “I’m sure the Academy will be in touch but-”

“No, I’m glad you told me,” Wanda instantly reassures you. “Are you OK?”

“Bucky came to see me,” You say, slowly, unsure how to put what you’re feeling into words, “Then I went with him to the hospital… They’re all really-”

“I can imagine,” Wanda says, gravely. “Have you heard anything?”

“Nothing today. So far.”

“It’ll be OK. He’ll be OK.”

“Wanda, he’s not going to be able to dance again.” Your voice wobbles, unshed tears threatening once again. God, you’re sick of crying.

“Oh, God. Do you want me to come over?” Wanda’s offer is perfectly serious; she’s come across town for less before. But you can’t face dealing with such a concentrated outpouring of sympathy and concern. In fact, you can barely face dealing with anything at all. All you want to do is bury beneath the duvet and hope the day, along with all its misery, disappears before you next resurface.

“I’m OK,” Is what you say, rather than coming across as totally insane. “Thanks, it means a lot- but I’m OK. Just want today to be over with.”

“Yeah, OK. Just know I’m on the end of the line if you need me.”

Your heart swells with affection. “Thanks, Wanda.”

“Anytime. Look after yourself, yeah?”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Stay strong.” The line clicks off.

You drag in a few carefully measured breaths. The pressure on your chest eases slightly.

Y: I’m going to bed, know I’ve been saying this a lot but hope you’re OK

You eventually fall asleep with your phone face down on the floor, trying to switch off the tick of anxiety in your heart.

~~

On Saturday, you get a text at half eleven.

Hi Y/N this is Nat. Steve is out of hospital. Has yet to hit anyone with his crutches although I’m sure it will happen soon. We are safely back at the academy. Thanks for your help on Thurs.

Reading it, your heart momentarily unclenches- he’s out of hospital, in good spirits by the sound of it- but then, rereading it, a different kind of discomfort begins to well up inside you. Of course, you’re glad Nat has sent you an update; but why is Nat texting you? Nat doesn’t even have your number.

Maybe his phone’s flat. That’s what you tell yourself, and that excuse sustains you through the rest of the day.

Y: Probably building up a backlog of these but glad to hear Steve’s back safe

Y: Sleep well

~~

On Sunday, you cling to imagining a smashed screen, maybe dropped in the attempt to get Steve up those lethal stairs. The waves of doubt tug stronger and stronger, but you can still ride them out. One more day, you insist, one more day and he’ll text you. One more day and it will be fine. Just wait one more day.

~~

Monday comes, and there’s no word. At work, you’re flat and subdued- but after telling Lola what happened to Steve, she accepts that as enough reason for your mood and leaves you alone. You keep your phone in your bag the whole day, and when you unlock it to find a blank screen as you walk out of the library, you can taste the bitter sting of disappointment coating the back of your throat. But there’s one last option left. One last hope, one last maybe.

You tap Bucky’s number and hit call, then lift the phone to your ear. All he has to do is answer. Then you can put your fears to rest.

All he has to do is answer.

After the twelfth discordant ring, you slowly drop your hand and press your thumb carefully to the screen to end the call.

It’s still not over, a voice inside you insists, it still might be alright. He’ll come on Wednesday and make everything alright.

You try not to think of it as a fool’s hope, and carry on walking home.

~~

On Tuesday, you carry a hot, singeing coal around in your chest. It stings with each prod of your thoughts in Bucky’s direction, with every hesitant, anticipatory glance at your phone. Nothing seems able to dislodge it. You find yourself chewing your lip, fidgeting with your hands whenever they’re not occupied. Your mind won’t drop the why, the what’s happening, the is he OK, the did I do something wrong; until each worry is gnawed to splinters that jab and crack under your constant scrutiny.

That night, you convince yourself it’s not worth crying over, and force yourself to sleep, even as your thoughts run in endless circles.

Why?

What’s happening?

Is he OK?

Did I do something wrong?

~~

You’re strung as tight as wire through the hours of your Wednesday shift. When the clock reaches five, you seize your belongings, wave a quick goodbye and dart out the door. You spend the minimum possible time back at your flat- diving in, struggling into your workout clothes, grabbing your bag and dashing out again- before striding, with butterflies fighting in your stomach, down the road towards the bus stop.

You know you’re early- which is why you’re surprised to see Sam and Nat already waiting at the stop. Only Sam and Nat. Your stomach drops to rest somewhere on the pavement.

Still, at least you might get an explanation. You square your shoulders and hurry over.

Nat looks grim. That’s your first clue. Sam’s smile is forced, slightly uneven at the edges. You look from one to the other. “Are you OK? How’s Steve?”

How’s Bucky? You want to ask, but you keep a lid on that question.

“Steve’s OK,” Sam replies, “Not great, but he’s dealing with it.”

You nod, then force yourself to say it.

“Where’s Bucky? Is he-”

You don’t even know: OK? Better? Worse? Avoiding me?

Nat glances at Sam.

“What?” You ask. You’re trying to keep your voice light, joking, because it’s fine, right? Everything’s fine. But when Nat looks back to you, her face makes your heart sink.

“Bucky got an exemption from Fury,” She says, carefully, “This was supposed to be their last week anyway. They only had two more compulsory hours to complete, so he asked to be excused from attending the class.”

“Oh.”

Your mouth can’t manage anything else. What does that mean?

You stare at Nat, pleading wordlessly with her to explain. She grimaces slightly, then shifts her gaze to Sam. His eyes widen; then he looks at you, and his expression settles into something more sympathetic. He takes a deep breath.

“Don’t- don’t beat up on yourself, Y/N, but Bucky’s…”

He trails off, and your heart lurches.

“Bucky’s what? Is it Steve? Is it the auditions?” You’re losing the fragile grasp you had on your temper; your normal checks have been frayed by the crises of the past few days.

Sam’s face crumples up. “We think so. He’s just- sometimes he just puts the blinkers on and that’s it-” Sam reaches out, maybe reacting to the way your heart feels like its collapsing in on itself, and delivers the final blow with a rough kind of care in his voice, “- For everything else.”

You don’t need to ask anything more. You don’t even want to hear it; you can’t stand to hear the final nail being hammered in the coffin.

Everything else: everything us.

That’s it for everything else.

Your throat has closed up, but you refuse to cry here, in case Nat and Sam bear word back to the academy of your reaction. You’ll be goddamned strong. So, you swallow painfully and stare away down the street as you force down the roiling, sickening waves of emotion. Deal with it later, you tell yourself, right now, hold it together.

So you do. You hold it together through the bus ride, then through Wanda’s looks of concern as you prep for the class, and then through the class itself. So what if you perform the movements with all the feeling of a robot? If it keeps you from crying in front of everyone, it’s worth it. The two hours pass in both an agonising drag and the blink of an eye; all of a sudden the music has stopped and everyone’s filing off the floor. Wanda makes a beeline for you.

“Talk to me. Right now.” She gently takes your arm and steers you towards the corner. A black tide seems to rise in your throat at her words; you wrestle it down, but not before your eyes start stinging.

“Y/N?” Pepper appears at your shoulder, her delicate face pulled into a frown. “Are you OK? You seemed a little…”

“Sad,” Clint signs, striding up to your little huddle.

The black tide surges again. You frantically glance around the studio- but everyone else seems preoccupied packing up. Some are already heading out, waving to Wanda. You bite your lip.

“Um, I’ve got something to tell you all.”

~~

Fifteen minutes later and the four of you are sat on the floor of the studio. Pepper has her arm around you, Wanda is handing you her emergency sugar stash, and Clint looks thunderous.

“So,” You sniff, “I think that’s it.” Your voice shudders on the last word, but you push on. It’s nearly out, the whole sorry tale, and you’re already feeling a little lighter. Your hands keep up with your words, just about. “I don’t think my pride can take chasing him anymore.”

“Damn right!” Wanda says, indignantly, just as Clint begins to sign something else.

“Do you want me to go beat him up?”

You snort, but shake your head.

“He’s not worth it,” Pepper affirms, her face stern.

“He’s not,” You agree, ignoring the way your chest clenches at that statement, “I don’t even know why I’m so invested. Why I was so invested.”

Wanda shrugs. “Life’s a bitch, sometimes.”

“You’re not wrong.” You give a watery laugh. “Feelings are a bitch.”

Clint shrugs, then winks at you. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Remind me, how many dates have you had with Laura now?”

Clint shuts up, and the three of you laugh. Wanda springs to her feet.

“Come on, group therapy is closing for the night.”

You accept Clint’s hand up and manage a smile. “Thanks, guys. For-”

“Don’t mention it,” Pepper instantly replies.

“Any time,” Clint tells you.

“Absolutely.” Wanda pulls open the door. “Now, Pepper is going to drop you home in her fancy car, and I’m going to sort out our competition entries. Clear?”

“Chrystal,” You reply, then impulsively stride over and hug her tightly. “Thank you.”

“You’ll be fine,” She tells you, then presses a smacking kiss to the side of your head, “You’ve got us!”

Looking around at them, you actually believe her.

~~

Pepper does drive a fancy car. She runs her own start-up company, providing appropriate technical support to the city’s high-profile firms and organisations, and although she’s ever modest you know she’s very good at what she does. Her apartment is on the other side of town, near the financial district, so she normally carpools with Clint- but when Wanda issues an order, you don’t usually disobey it. So you hop in the back of her Mercedes without protest, and listen idly as she turns on the radio.

Oddly, you feel better for having sobbed your heart out on the floor of Scarlet Studios. The combined pressure of disappointment, sorrow and fury hasn’t disappeared; but it has eased. When Pepper draws up to the curb outside your flat a little while later, you lean forward in your seat and dangle your phone in your hand.

“What?” Clint’s sign is a little cramped from having to turn around.

Fuck. You don’t actually know the sign for erase. You instead give an apology and say, “Pepper? Can you erase Bucky’s number? I don’t trust myself to do it.”

Pepper twists in her seat and looks carefully at you. “Are you sure?”

You nod decisively. “I’m done.”

Done with bright blue eyes and dry laughter and a smile that simultaneously split apart and stitched back together your poor, battered heart. Done with sharp wit and stupid jokes and the gentle heat of swaying together to music that soared and seduced. Done with pouring all of your soul and care into someone who clearly didn’t want it. Done with waiting, and hoping, and hurting all at once.

Pepper clearly sees the certainty in your eyes. She takes your phone, swipes it open and you watch as she opens up your contacts and begins scrolling down.

Bucky (Dancing)

Delete this number?

With one tap of her finger, it’s gone.

AN: I’M SORRY WRITING THIS CHAPTER WAS SO SAD BUT STICK WITH ME LOVELIES (you’ll never go hungry again!). Sorry, Disney references are probably a side-effect of so much misery. The Pain Train trundles on! You know where to find me to shriek/cry/flail. Thank you again for your support <3 (P.S. Thirteen is finally finished. Haven’t quite decided if there are going to be one or two more parts before the epilogue- which you guys will decide on! So basically a few days until the next update. Stay strong <3)

Tag list:  @learisa; @vintagesaph; @debzybrazy; @madeofstarsdust; @beingcrushedbysociety; @plumsforbuck2016; @buckybabybaby; @seb-styles; @youtube-obsessed-duh; @casdoesntunderstandthatreference; @sunnycolors; @imthemishamigo; @themarvelousmaximoffs; @blonde0n; @smaug-the-homedog; @gabby913; @sexyashmike; @fuckinxqueenx; @velociraptorinae; @frnkensteingrl; @tattooideasforthefuture; @inlovewithnovels; @ipaintmelodies; @whimsicaldreaming; @olicia-leeshy; @xxamix; @xxblackteabinchxx; @v-ickie; @imnegativetillbepositive; @lilythelionflower; @witchinghour24; @hollycornish; @lucyvaughan-omg-; @thel0stpr1ncess; @kur0k1tsun3-blog; @siobhanrebecca; @thighs0fbetrayal; @ur-an-indiana-boy-sonny; @fungk17; @da363; @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world; @burtheimperium; @fandom-writes; @farawell; @dorisagent101; @ghostwriterfanfics; @avengers–marvel; @the-creative-lie; @ms-brown10; @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme; @marvelsavengersforever1227; @winchesterforever12; @stomachfilledwithbutterflies; @fictionwillneverdie; @basicwhiskeyprincesss; @tortadigranchio; @supikasia; @moonandstars-xo; @greengrassdiaries; @jiminera; @irreplaceablevogue; @jechloandhyde; @damagelove; @schaart; @satansknittingclub; @scentedcoffeefire; @brooke-supernatural16; @sarahmichelle5; @dreeams-unwind; @damnbuckyishot; @thestuffyouwant; @obliviousheaven; @moist-bread1234

Part 12

[myaekingheart]

Had more bizarre dreams again. One last night which was perhaps the weirdest, and then four a few nights back that I jotted down but never actually got to documenting. I’ll start with last night’s, though, since it’s still fresh in my mind.

Night of 6/9: *Also: It is very, very important to note that this was 90s Hugh Grant we are talking about here. That’s crucially important. I had a dream about Hugh Grant which hasn’t happened in ages and is the bulk of why this was so goddamn fucking uncomfortable. In the dream, he owned this really fancy movie theater and he had this really luxurious apartment. I remember being in the apartment before anything. Everything was black and dark wood and glass, very sleek and sophisticated. I remember roaming around trying to figure out where the fuck I was meant to go. I think I was trying to find the bathroom, and I found one but he was inside of it so I walked around and found another door into a bathroom at the other end of the hallway, only to find that it was a second door into the same bathroom. I was about to walk inside but then I saw him standing there with his back turned to me (and a flash of his ass oh dear god) and quickly retracted my decision. I don’t remember every single specific thing but there was another scene in the bedroom. Nothing sexual, but he had a large bed with a dark wood bed frame, and it was overlooking this giant movie screen. I was about to climb into bed with him and who I swear had to be Jan from The Office when I realized I still had my contacts in and had forgotten to pack my eye care stuff. It wasn’t forgetting my glasses that was a problem so much as not having anything to put my contacts into was. I expressed this to them which then prompted Jan to tell me that she had a spare contact case and some contact solution I could borrow, so I thanked her and went back into the bathroom to remove my lenses. After that, the scene shifted and suddenly I was walking around the lobby of the movie theater downstairs with Hugh Grant. He was talking about it saying stuff I wasn’t really paying attention, because all I could think about was how deathly terrified I was as I have always taken issue with movie theaters and these were, quite frankly, something else. The hall leading into every theater was sloped with bright, obnoxious lights on the ceiling and big double doors and it overall looked like a classic Hollywood death trap, honestly. But I couldn’t fight it. He pulled me into one of the movie theaters and I was stunned. It was huge. The ceilings were ginormous, the screen was ginormous, the seats were weird. There were padded benches in the first two rows and then I guess regular seats in the back. A fat woman in the first row looked at me while the trailers were playing and said something like “The fuck are you scared for? It’s just a big room with a screen” in this rude, gravelly, mouth-full-of-popcorn voice. After this everything kind of started to fade out but I was left with the crawling, unnerving feeling of being in Hugh Grant’s realistic dream presence. I feel like to fully understand the scope of why this is so weird for me requires some backstory. Hugh Grant was, like, my first crush for absolutely no goddamn reason. I don’t even know how the fuck it happened but I was legit three or four years old and I guess I must’ve seen him in a movie or something? I remember going to the library and checking out his movies, like 9 Months (because I also had a fascination with pregnancy and childbirth as a kid—still lowkey do) and Notting Hill. I was embarrassed about it, like when my mom connected the dots she used to tease me by mimicking him saying “oopsie daisy” in Notting Hill and I would fucking freak the fuck out. I had this very distinct dream as a child, too, where I was in a white, brightly lit room like a dressing room and I met him and he towered over me and I was so unnerved and just everything about anything Hugh Grant just…I cannot function not so much because I still think he’s attractive but because that childhood panic and weirdness is still there. Because let’s face it, when you’re three or four and you get your first crush, or at least if you’re anything like me, it’s this weird sensation where you think you’re legitimately sick and every time you look at this person, you feel this bizarre and uncomfortable feeling where you think you’re simultaneously going to explode like a firework and vomit everywhere. So yeah, because of the childhood bullshit, everything and anything Hugh Grant just brings back all of that unpleasantness and it’s gotten to the point where if he’s ever in a movie that my mom happens to turn on at any point or whatever, that sensation immediately floods back and I have no choice but to leave the room and hide until it’s all over because I just cannot fucking handle it. So yeah, this dream was…I feel like I need a shower to wash off all this mucky, uncomfortable feeling but at the same time feel like I’m gonna feel watched if I get naked, if we’re gonna be blunt about it.

EDIT: Because I am a self sadistic prick and decided to look at trailers of Hugh Grant movies now, everything makes a little more sense because for some goddamn reason, yesterday or the day before I could not get this quote of “I’m just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her” out of my head and I could not for the fucking life of me remember where it was from but now I know and I’m kicking myself because apparently my subconscius knew and decided this was probably the best way to remind me so there’s that. That’s real fucking fun. Thanks, brain. Appreciate you, too.

At least my dreams from the other night were far palatable, if not also a little strange.

Night of 6/6 Dream Number One: I was in the frozen food section of a generic grocery store, probably a Walmart. There was a kid having a temper tantrum on the floor about orange juice, I think? I don’t know, this is not the first time I have dreamt this exact same scene before so I’m pretty sure that’s what it was. I walked away with my cart, and on a display shelf where there should’ve been clothes (because it was the clothes section), instead there was a shitty taco making station with weak heat lamps, questionable ground beef, rubbery soft taco shells, and just plain shredded cheese. There was hardly anything there, as in people had eaten most of it, so it’s a mystery as to why they were drawn to something so disgusting. Like damn, if you want tacos that badly just go through the drive-through at Taco Bell.

Dream Number Two: This was the weirdest of the four dreams. I was in a large room with windows all along the one wall and a long row of yellow pleather recliners facing the aforementioned windows. They were those old recliners with uncomfortable metal frames and yellowing padding that’s poking through scars in the fabric from having been used for so many years. Like the kind of thing you see in the booths of old diners. My boyfriend was laying on one, and I was either sitting or standing next to him. There were dust particles floating in the air, and everything was tinted a moldy yellow. It’s presumed this was supposed to be part of some of dingy hospital because I distinctly remember my boyfriend was there for asthma, and they kept having to hook him up to breathalyzers like when he was in the hospital for real a few months back. On the recliner next to him was a small blonde kid, I think it was a boy in blue denim overalls, who was autistic. There were a handful of women standing nearby I guess trying to give him speech therapy, urging him to say the word “charm.” They were repeating it over and over again, slowly, putting emphasis on every sound in the word so it came off almost foreign. The kid, however, was not having it. He was squirming and kicking and screaming, he wanted nothing to do with any one of them or anything. I think at one point my boyfriend leaned over and said something to him and maybe he calmed down a bit? I don’t know. All I remember is that at one point during all this commotion, my boyfriend started freaking out, not in the “I’m so frustrated with this kid” way which would’ve been far better but the “My body is going into shock and I’m on the verge of death” way like he started spluttering and his body started seizing and I started panicking and screaming and doctor’s started running over and it was quite frankly a ginormous mess and I’m insanely shocked and horrified thinking back on it.

Dream Number Three: This one is simple and stupid. I dreamt that I was in my bathroom with my childhood best friend and we were standing in front of the mirror getting ready. I just remember standing there as we were talking, watching her straighten her hair and babble endlessly about God knows what and thinking to myself, “Damn, some people really don’t ever change.”

Dream Number Four: This last dream was perhaps the second weirdest of the night. I was on the same college campus as I’ve seen in previous dreams, especially in the dream I had the night before this one (where I was met with someone strongly resembling an old friend on a bench waiting for the bus). This time, however, I was in an auditorium style classroom and I was freaked. Because, as you can probably guess, auditoriums give me the same anxiety that movie theaters tend to. So basically, you can’t take me anywhere. But anyways, I grabbed a seat at the back of the room which was the highest up you could go but also the closest to some glass double doors and had an overhanging ceiling that was at average height, both of which helped to ease my discomfort a bit. I was there for a final exam, which didn’t help the nerves. There was a kid there sitting nearby, maybe one row in front of me, who I cannot stop associating with the word Kanye, like my brain as it was narrating all of this (as it sometimes tends to in my dreams) said he was a former classmate I had in real life who resembled/was like Kanye West. I have never had a classmate like Kanye West, unless my brain is vaguely referring to a kid from middle school whose only resemblance is probably skin color, diction, and weed, but still. Either way, there was a kid “Kanye” in the row in front of me and for some reason, he handed me this squishy eyeball replica. It reminded me of this one that I got as a kid at Disney World. I was outside the Haunted Mansion and I had walked into a pole and bonked my head really hard. A nearby street vendor noticed and gave me a free squishy eyeball toy as big as my fist to help me feel better because I was three years old wailing and screaming and in pain. The eyeball in my dream was basically exactly like that, except more like a real eyeball in manufacture but not size. I remember sitting there pulling it apart while I was waiting for the exam to start. I think it was the lens that I reached, or whatever that small, hard, marble-like thing in your eye is (or maybe this is different for humans considering the only experience I have with dissecting eyeballs is in the form of a squid) that I began pressing in my hand, into my palm and between my fingers, and in a way it almost helped me feel calmer. Which is really morbid now that I think about it. Like yeah, sure, this makes total sense: “I’m feeling anxious so I’m gonna start squeezing this piece of eyeball around in my hand so I can feel better!” Like no, Amanda, shut the fuck up, that’s disgusting. But that’s also where this dream ended so I guess I’m leaving this on a morbid note, then. Oh well?