#the envelope is made from wrapping paper from something a pal sent to me ...was wondering what sort of page to use it on so im glad

[lucky-draws]

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ - - - - - ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

[amane-by-together]

Blue Hour || Amane Yugi pt. 1/5

(Amane Yugi x Fem!Reader)

genre: romance, drama, and a bit of fantasy

summary: amane was assigned to send letters to [name] from another school for a quarterly pen pal project in their class.

"You and I found in the sky in 5:53"

Amane grabbed a white pen from his black cylindrical pencil case and wrote some finishing touches for his letter on a black sheet of paper. He doodled some stars and constellations around the paper before folding it carefully then placing it inside a navy blue envelope.

He added some photographs of stars and moon stickers inside the galaxy themed parcel that he designed a day ago. Amane smiled proudly to himself after tying the twine around the parcel, he also slides in some post cards inside the twine.

“You sure are taking this pen pal project seriously, Yugi.” Yamabuki looked over to his dark haired friend with his phone on hand. “I barely even put effort on mine.”

“Look at Yashiro's though,” Amane pointed at the cream haired girl with teal tips sitting in front of him. She was putting a lot of designs for her pen pal letter so that her assigned sender would think that she's a creative person that matches their own aesthetic. “Hey, Yashiro-san, who do you think will be your pen pal?”

“I hope my pen pal is a boy,” Yashiro sighed dreamily as Amane deadpanned at her being a simp for hot and tall guys. He used to like her back then until he realized that he wasn't good enough for her. “And while we're sending letters, we'll fall in love—”

“Okay that's enough delusions, Yashiro.” Amane raised his hand up to prevent her from speaking more of her fantasies. “I've heard enough of them.”

“What did you put in your letter?” Yashiro asked.

“Pretty much about myself, I added some stickers and post cards, just incase my future pen pal would like them.” Amane explained while counting his fingers. “Hopefully they would because I made a lot of effort in it.” he said while scratching his cheek.

“I heard that our letters will be sent to another school and students from our grade will be our pen pals.” Akane explained as he went towards Yamabuki. “If Ao-chan gets a pen pal that is a guy, then I guess I have to eliminate the offender—”

“Whoah chill, Aoi.” Yamabuki glanced up to the red head whose expression quickly changed with a scary one. “What's with the bat though—?”

“Sometimes your obsession scares me.” Amane raised a perfect brow at Akane while resting his cheek to the heel of his palm.

“You're the one to talk.” Akane slightly glared at the smaller male. “At least I have a love life.”

“Fair enough.” Amane grumbled under his breath, looking away from the distasteful Akane. “Wait, you two are dating—?”

Amane was interrupted by their homeroom teacher entering the class. “Good morning class, did you have your letters ready?” Sensei asked as he scratched his chin. “To those who didn't know yet, your letters will be delievered to another school. Expect a letter from your new pen pal on the next day or two.”

The dark haired boy feels his eyes slowly drooping, it's always like this, getting sleepy in the middle of class. The cause? Stargazing.

Amane, ever since he was a little boy, he loved the moon and stars. He would open his window at night and look into his telescope to admire the star studded sky. Looks like he stayed up a little too long before dawn, you can't really blame him, who wouldn't like stargazing.

His eyes can't take it anymore, he needed to snooze off, just for a moment to rest. Amane folded his arms on top of his desk and puts his head down to take a nap.

“The other world at 5:53 is beautiful.”

In a dusk turning into dark, there stood a glowing carousel, spinning in a clockwise motion that seemed like it was twisting forever. Amane wandered around the place, wondering why he standing in front of a lonely ride.

He felt his ears ring and the ground slightly shaking. Amane closed his eyes as he felt the wind blowing against him, then everything stopped.

Amane fluttered his eyes open and saw a girl wearing a different school uniform than theirs. She was around Yashiro's height, he estimated, but nonetheless he never seen this girl before.

In a blink of an eye, she disappeared.

Amane raised his head up immediately from the sleep and panted heavily. Beads of sweat came rolling down from his forehead, his chest rises and then it lowers for a second, and he couldn't breathe properly after that. ‘What was that?’ he thought, drawing his hand near his chest to calm his breathing. ‘Who was that?’

He was sure as hell that he was confused, having a dream about a glowing carousel and a girl wearing a school uniform, whom he had never seen before, whatever that dream was about, he felt goosebumps on his skin. Amane fixed himself, he probably looked like he ran in a marathon and never got to drink water after that. 

“Amane-kun, why do you keep sleeping in class?” Yashiro asked with a stern tone like she was a mother scolding her son for doing something wrong. “You shouldn’t sleep in classes anymore, okay?” she added while handing him her notebook which contains the notes that she took during the lesson.

Yashiro, as one of Amane's friends, was concerned for the boy. She was worried about him, but that doesn't mean the cream haired girl has feelings for the choppy haired guy. Like she said, she isn’t his type. “I’ll try not to sleep in class...” Amane receives the notebook from his female friend. 

“If you sleep again, I won’t lend you my notes anymore.” 

“Okay okay, I won’t sleep next time.” Amane assures her in a sweat dropped expression. “But I make no promises though---”

Yashiro snorted. “By the way---” Amane was interrupted by the school bell beckoning them to go eat their lunch. He sighed, he always gets cut off whenever he says something interesting. The teenage boy slumped his shoulders before going to the rooftop to eat his food.

All alone by himself like he usually does.

Amane was puzzled by the dream he had while he was napping during class. A carousel and a girl he had never seen before, perhaps that it was a lost memory of his or he had actually seen this girl but he doesn't remember her.

He'll figure that out on his own.

The next day felt like any other day. Amane groaned loudly, waking up from his slumber (surprisingly he actually slept) and not wanting to get up from the comfortable bed that he was laying down. He buried his face on one of the pillows. ‘I don't want to wake up, I swear to god.’

“Amane, Amane—”

“What?!” Amane shot his head up and shouted fiercely at his younger twin, Tsukasa who was standing on the door with a towel wrapped around his hips.

“Wake up, we have classes!” Tsukasa reminded him. Amane sighed and slammed his face against the pillow, he felt himself close his eyes to sleep again, until Tsukasa grabbed his face and forcefully removed his brother's face from the pillow. “WAKE UP!”

“I'm up, I'm up!” Amane removed Tsukasa's hands from his face and glared at him. “Jeez, you don't have to scream on my face.” he added while getting off the bed towards the bathroom.

Amane looked into the mirror with half lidded eyes while brushing his teeth, his dark choppy hair was disheveled with few strands of hair slightly sticking out, and his long sleeved shirt that two buttons were unbuttoned where a bit of his chest is showing.

After taking a bath, Amane wrapped a towel around his torso while drying his hair with another towel. He grabbed his uniform that was hanging on the wall and wore it in a speed.

Amane notices that Tsukasa left early which is unusual since he usually leaves early leaving his brother behind. He smiled to himself before heading on to school.

When he arrived, he saw that his classmates are crowded over to his very own desk. Amane pushed his way towards them. “What's going on?” he asked.

“Letters from the other school got recently delivered.” Yashiro answered. “Your pen pal letter is here, and I must say they're very creative.”

Amane felt intrigued all of a sudden, he went to his desk to see the pen pal letter for himself and when he did, his jaw dropped.

A navy blue parcel with constellations around the paper. It was tied by a twine and dried flowers. A smile ghosted upon Amane's lips, the pen pal knew his aesthetics and his love for stars.

He gently grabbed the parcel from his desk and examined it. To Amane's surprise, he saw a tag clipped from the twine, he reads.

[name] [surname].

The name of his new pen pal.

Amane unwrapped the parcel, there's an envelope that was sealed with wax. 'Fancy' he thought to himself as he slightly sticks out his bottom lip. Other than that, there are polaroids and moon stickers, but there is one thing that caught his eye.

A thin book.

Amane picked up the book, it was an astronomy journal that [name] made for him. 'This person must have made a lot of effort, I admire that.'

Amane opened the envelope first, inside was a neatly folded letter, he carefully unfolded it using his fingers.

Hi Amane Yugi-san,

I'm [name] [surname], your pen pal for this quarter! Well I made an astronomy journal since I saw your letter talking about yourself, hope you like it though ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ 

After reading the letter, a smile broke down from Amane’s visuals. His pen pal is revealed to be a girl who is a first year highschool student, like him, studying from Sanaol Academy, which is far from Kamome.

Time flew by like a shooting star in a dark blue sky, Amane went home feeling giddy to write his response to [name]. When he got to his room he immediately grabbed a lot of art materials to work on the letter.

Hello [name]-san,

Thanks for the journal, I love the contents inside of it. Anyways, I hope we'll meet someday and talk about the stars together! I have a playlist where you can listen while stargazing hehe~

Amane smiled to himself, resting his cheek to the heel of his palm while writing his letter to [name]. Maybe this pen pal project isn't going to be bad after all.

Meanwhile in [name]'s side, she was sitting on her swivel chair with a cheeky smile on her face while reading Amane's letter. The strands of her hair are falling to her hair, admiring his words.

“[name], dinner's ready!”

“Coming!” [name] grinned before going downstairs to eat dinner with her family.

“The door of my dreams unreal, you from my memories become real”

@closetweebsmh @closetwaffle

[babbushka]

Reunions

Clyde Logan x Reader 

3k ; Minor angst (Military past/reuniting with military buddies) it’s really very fluffy I promise

(originally posted on AO3 12/28/2018, cross-posting here for my tumblr friends)

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

Most Monday mornings found you in the front lawn, tending to the flowers you had planted there before the heat of the day set in, and this particular Monday was no exception. 

The birds were chirping brightly, your watering can was full, and the day just seemed glad to see you. Clyde was back in the small house the two of you shared, and was just waking up. 

He always slept in late after the weekends when Duck Tape was at its busiest, so you had taken up this routine as a way to be productive while letting him get some much needed rest – on days where he let you out of his python grip, that was.

A bonus to being outside early was you got to greet the neighbors and various people passing by your property. People walking their dogs or taking their kids to the nearby school all got a friendly greeting from you as you tended your garden, and the mailman was no exception. You usually had a small token of appreciation for him on Mondays, as a way to start the week off nicely.

“Good morning ma’am! Only a couple letters for y’all today.” The mailman said as he pulled up in his truck outside your house.

You brushed your hands off on your gardening pants and took the small stack from him with a smile. You knew you were the last house on his route, he had told you as much one morning a few months ago, and so you didn’t worry about the fresh loaf of homemade bread getting squished or damaged in his care. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with butcher’s twine like it was every week, with a small paper tag on it that you wrote down this week’s flavor – roasted garlic and rosemary.

“Thank you Patrick, here’s something nice for you and Shelley. Have a good day!” You handed him the loaf and he didn’t hesitate to take in a big sniff, the garlic was pretty strong but he grinned like it was Christmas morning.

“You’re always so kind (Y/N), thank ya! It smells delicious, you have a good one.” He gave you a small wave before driving down the block.

Heading back towards the house, you started leafing through the letters. One was the cable and internet bill, another was a weekly newsletter of the local community that you had subscribed to, but the third was addressed to Clyde specifically.

It was small and rectangular, and a little dinged up, but it looked like it had traveled a long way to get to Clyde. His name and address was inked in blue pen that had gotten a little smudged, and you could only wonder how many times it had gotten delivered to the wrong place before it finally arrived to your humble home.

“Clyde honey, something came in the mail for you today.” You said as you walked through the door. Your boyfriend was fully awake and munching on some frosted flakes at the kitchen table, reading through a new book he picked up at the library.

“Just put it in the pile, I’ll sort through it later.” Clyde responded sweetly, making you giggle.

“It’s not a bill, someone sent you a personal letter.” You leaned over the table and gave him a morning breath kiss, placing the letter on the table next to his book. “Return address is from Utah, do you know anyone from there?”

You had thought all of Clyde’s family was here in West Virginia. Well, now with Jimmy across state line that might no longer be true, but still you had never heard your man talk about anyone from all the way across the country.

“Can you get me a butter knife?” Clyde asked, his voice gone quiet as he stared at the letter.  

“Sure thing honey.” You said with a slight frown, grabbing one from the drawer and handing it to him.

Clyde didn’t respond, using the butter knife as a makeshift letter opener to tear through the envelope carefully. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded into thirds, and was completely covered in more blue ink. From your angle you couldn’t make out the writing exactly, but Clyde’s reaction to it was more concerning to you than the contents.

“Is everything okay? You look a little pale.” You asked, sitting down next to him and hugging yourself close to his arm, the scarred one. He hadn’t yet put on his prosthetic since he had just woken up, but you didn’t mind in the least. You liked that he trusted you enough to be comfortable around you.

“I’m okay.” He said with a deep breath, folding the letter back down and tucking it under his book.

You didn’t want to press the issue, so you just gave him a kiss and moved to the cabinet to get a bowl so you could have some breakfast with him and spend the rest of the morning together.

The next day, Clyde came home early from work and surprised you with takeout from your favorite Chinese restaurant for dinner. You had been watching TV, waiting for him to come home, and at the sound of the front door unlocking you were already running across the house to jump into his arms and cover his face with kisses.

“Honey you’re home!” You grinned, laughing as he lifted you and spun you around.

“Yup, I felt like spending the evening with my favorite lady.” He smiled back at you, giving you one long kiss before releasing his hold on you.

You giggled, still dizzy from the spinning, and took the heavy takeout bag from him. He followed you into the living room where you laid out the spread of containers, and you caught him fidgeting with the buckle on his belt – a nervous habit of his that you picked up on pretty early on.

“(Y/N)?” Clyde said, and you frowned slightly at the apprehension in his voice. “I was wonderin’…if you wouldn’t mind accompanyin’ me to a function this weekend.” He finished, and you were relieved that you didn’t have to prepare for dreadful news.

“You know I’ll always join you wherever you want me to.” You said, sitting on the couch and inviting him to his favorite spot: his head in your lap. “Is this about your friend from Utah? Are they going to be in town?” You asked, thinking about the letter.

“Yup. It ain’t just Tony either, it’s…” Clyde trailed off with a sigh, and your chest tightened for him. You knew there were a lot of things in Clyde’s past that you didn’t really know about, because he had had such a hard time living through them. The last thing you wanted to do was to make him deal with something he wasn’t ready for.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s hard Clyde.” You said, stroking your fingers through his thick and luscious hair.

“I want to tell ya because it’s hard.” Clyde said, sitting up and taking your hand. He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, something he was trying to be better at when he was nervous. “I know I don’t talk about it a lot, especially with me losin’ m’ arm and all, but I made some good pals overseas in the special forces. Some of them are having a bar-be-cue, a reunion of sorts, and I’ve been invited to go.”

He looked at you almost like he was afraid you’d say no, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face, and he felt a little more relaxed.

“Do we need to bring anything? I can whip up my famous mac n’ cheese.” You said, wanting him to know that you accepted every single part of him and his history.

“You don’t mind bein’ around a whole bunch of tough military types for the day?” Clyde asked, sounding slightly incredulous.

“If they mean a lot to you, they mean a lot to me.” You said, leaning in for a kiss.

Clyde’s heart soared, grinning against your lips as he kissed you back. He hadn’t spoken to his army buddies in a long time, at least since he had gotten a phone – otherwise he would have given them his number to call instead of having Tony send him a letter as the only way to reach him. He was nervous showing you more of that side of him, the side that had gotten injured and all the baggage that came along with it, but you had always been supportive and understanding, willing to listen and to help him through all the other bad parts of his life, he should have known you would be there for him during this too.

For the whole week leading up to the BBQ Clyde was nervous with excited energy. He had done a fashion show for you of different outfits he might wear, wanting your opinion on how he should wear his shirts. Should he shave? Should he cover his arm? Hat, or no hat?

You were patient and glad to help, giving your honest thoughts, like he should wear his shirts how he always does; tucked into his trousers and buttoned all the way up. No he shouldn’t shave, he looks handsome with the scruff he’s got, and no hat, it’ll get too hot.

You were an angel, and Clyde kept telling you that on the three hour drive up to Pittsburg, where Emmanuel lived and was hosting this whole thing. Before you two got out of the car, he gave your hand a firm squeeze, and you simply brought it to your lips and kissed the knuckles with a warm smile.

“Clyde Logan, you gentle giant how are ya?” A stocky man emerged from the front of the house when Clyde’s car beeped locked.

“I’m doing alright Emmanuel, it’s good ta see ya, you’re lookin’ pretty fit.” Clyde said, his demeanor immediately lightening up as he was crushed in a bear hug. The man, Emmanuel, ducked his head in a mock shy manner, before flexing and showing off his muscles.

“Thanks buddy! I’ve been spending a lot of time at the gym; they say swimming helps the back.” He shrugged, and Clyde just laughed. It was the first time he had laughed at something other than a corny joke you had made, and it made you grin.

“Clyde you never told us you had a smokin’ hot girlfriend!” Another man stepped out onto the front lawn, he was taller than Emmanuel, but not as tall as Clyde. You were pretty sure Clyde was always going to be the tallest man in the room, even among these guys.

“Shut up Mick,” Clyde teased without any real malice.

“Come on out back and come meet everyone!” Mick said, and the two of you followed him and Emmanuel through the house to the backyard, where it looked like a picture perfect scene out of a movie.

All the guys who were able rushed over to Clyde, and you couldn’t help but get emotional at how they all pulled him into a hug. It was clear to you that they hadn’t been together in a long time, and it warmed your heart to see them still caring about your man.

He managed to push through their wall of affection, and held out a hand for you, which you happily took.

“Everyone, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Mick and his wife Kayla, Tony and his wife Anna, Ozzie, Emmanuel, and Reuben.” Clyde introduced you, and you shook hands with everyone, leaning over to give them kisses on the cheek like you had known these people your whole life.

“It’s so nice to meet everyone.” You said truthfully.

“I bet Clyde’s told you nothin’ about us!” Ozzie laughed, giving a playful elbow to Clyde’s side. “He still the strong silent type we knew back in the day?” He asked with a grin.

“I’m afraid you’re right. But I wouldn’t have him any other way.” You said, making Clyde blush scarlet. He kissed your cheek and the whole group of men wolf whistled, but you didn’t mind, you liked showing off how in love you were with this handsome man. “I brought mac n’ cheese, I hope that was alright.” You suddenly remembered the huge tinfoil covered tray you were holding.

“Damn Clyde, she’s gorgeous and brings food? You got yourself a keeper.” Tony winked, making Clyde wrap his good arm instinctively around your waist.

“You keep your hands to yourself now Tony.” Clyde warned, but he still had that smile on his face.

You stuck by Clyde’s side the entire night. You didn’t say much, but you didn’t have to. It was the men’s night to reconnect with one another after all these years away. Clyde wasn’t the only one to have gotten injured in the roadside mine that took his arm; it took Reuben’s right leg, and had caused Tony to go deaf in his left ear, and partially blind. None of them paid any attention to anyone’s prosthetics, unless it was to comment on how nice Clyde’s arm looked, with how high tech it was.

As the day progressed and more beers were consumed, they started to reminisce about the days when they were together overseas, each one having a different version of the same story. You couldn’t help but laugh at how Clyde seemed to be the mediator whenever two men bickered over minor details in a story, he had always been the calm and collected one in the group, that much was easy to tell.

Emmanuel brought out his tripod and camera, and they set up a timer to take a couple big group photos right when the light was golden, and you offered to take some photos of just the men. Tony had taken the camera from you afterwards, and told you to go stand over by Clyde, and he snapped a couple pictures of the two of you, grinning at one another like the love sick fools you were.

Everyone talked about what they were up to in life. Mick and Kayla were starting to try and have a baby, Emmanuel was the regional manager for a real estate firm in the area, Ozzie and Reuben were both working on memoirs of their time in the war, and Tony had just gotten married to Anna not five weeks earlier.

Clyde was very humble about his life with you, only saying that he was the owner of a bar back home, and that he spent every minute there or with you. You felt like the luckiest lady in the world with the way he smiled down at you, all you could do was sing Clyde’s praises and tell them about the wonderful things he does for the folks back home.

With the evening came s’mores and the passing around of old photo albums. You couldn’t help but snuggle close to Clyde on Emmanuel’s couch as you tried to get a good luck at a young Clyde with nearly shaven hair and a boy’s face. It struck you then just how young all these guys had been, but how young Clyde was in particular. He looked like he joined right out of high school. Clyde’s grip on your hand tightened as they flipped through the pages, some a little older, one in particular of Clyde showing off the tattoo he had on his forearm. You simply put your other hand on top of his, and squeezed back, silently letting him know you were there for him.

Not so long after that came the somber goodbyes, seeing as you and Clyde had three whole hours to drive back home. It was bittersweet, no one knew when they would all have time to coordinate like this again.

“I’m real glad you came.” Tony said, as he held out his hand for a goodbye shake.

“I’m glad y’all invited me.” Clyde said shyly.

“Are you kiddin’? I went through hell tryin’ to find out where to mail that letter! You’re not an easy man to find Clyde Logan.” Tony laughed, deep and scratchy, like he had been smoking a pack a day since the war.

Clyde released your hand for the first time all evening, to pull out a piece of paper from his pocket.

“Here’s my phone number, I want you to give it to all the guys. In case y’all ever want to call or something.” Clyde said, addressing the whole small party.

As Clyde started to say his goodbyes to the folks he had missed, you went around the room and hugged everyone goodbye yourself. As you pulled away from Mick he discreetly slipped the photo of a young Clyde Logan into your hand.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to him,” Mick started with a hushed voice, “But you’ve lit a fire in him like I’ve never seen before. I’m glad he has you.” He said.

“I’m glad to have him.” You said back, with a heartfelt smile, as you hugged him again.

A week or so later, the mailman brought you a small package from Utah, and some postcards from all over the country, no doubt sent by the other members of Clyde’s group. This time you happily recognized Tony’s handwriting and left it for Clyde to open, as he hadn’t come down for breakfast yet.

You had gone to work, but when you came home you noticed a few additions of décor to your kitchen; framed photographs of Clyde and his friends from the BBQ. One of the group, one of just the men that you had taken, and one of the two of you, smiling down at each other.

Clyde’s arm and tattoo was on full display, but so was the love you two had for one another, and that outshone anything else in the world.

[nyxdelanuit]

Pleased to Meet You is an Understatement (Iida x Reader)

To say Iida was an over-zealous student would be a bit of an understatement. Every paper was researched to the extent of his abilities, every outcome perfectly documented and bullet-pointed for easier consumption. So when he was assigned a random civilian pen pal to acclimate to dealing with fans in his senior year at UA, he had taken it seriously. He started off writing with a bit of a professional distance to his words, each letter looked over by Aizawa’s discerning eye before being mailed out to the accompanying school.

 Empty pleasantries were exchanged both ways throughout the assignment, and Iida was more than content with the grades he had received on his replies. It became a way for him to unwind after the stressful week, something he looked forward to after all the taxing assignments and his internship. He was almost sad to see the assignment end, even with the perfect grade.

It wasn't until Kaminari had burst in, bragging about the date he had set up with his penpal that he even considered continuing to write. All that it took was a simple request to Aizawa, and he had your address, printed in your familiar script. So you had also looked forward to continuing your back and forth. He had never been more excited to retreat to his room as he had been that night.

A few more months, he had thought. Looking back on that sentiment, he felt rather foolish. It had been the better part of two years since he had graduated, and he still looked forward to the dainty envelopes hidden in his mailbox. Over the years, had dropped his professional front, allowing you further into his personal life. You had reciprocated, sharing stories of your failed relationships and- in comparison to Iida's work as a pro hero- mundane life.

 He was enthralled, he enjoyed the witty banter you displayed in your writing while also being amused by your naivety of certain things. Would he be so clueless, too, if he hadn't become a hero? Or was that just another quality you held that made him so drawn to you? He wasn't sure he'd ever know. You had suggested meeting many times, but Iida's schedule wasn't very accepting of plans. He tried to assure you so often that it wasn't reluctance on his part, but merely a matter of scheduling. Even then, you'd spot Ingenium racing off on the television hours after your appointed meeting, feeling a little less hurt that he hadn't intentionally blown off your date.

 Iida had enough. How many months had he waited, how many years led to this? He put in his request, a full two days off. Only a national emergency would keep him from you this time.

 He hoped there wasn’t a national emergency.

 You had been so patient, so accepting of the days you spent huddled in cafes and coffee shops, bistros, and bars, waiting on a man that wouldn't show. He felt he needed to make it up to you, despite your insistence against it. Iida himself didn't know why he was so adamant about taking you to such a nice restaurant. He was dressed up more than he was used to outside of events for his agency, and when he saw you fidgeting outside the restaurant, he was quick to assume you were also not used to such lavish places. Yet his breath caught when he saw you all the same, as nervous as you appeared.

 He had seen pictures, sent with your letters that carried the ghost of your scent, but seeing you living and moving in front of him was… different. A good different. You had stopped his mind so, he barely felt more competent than Kaminari during their English lessons. When you recognized his frozen figure, you smiled like the sun, thawing his unmoving form, and he barely caught himself before he made a fool of himself right in front of you.

 He didn’t know how to greet you. A bow, a handshake? Too informal for the way you gripped his heart and head. A hug would be too presumptuous of him. Would you be offended if he placed his hand at the small of your back to guide you in? All these thoughts ran through his head, but you merely wrapped yourself around his arm, gliding into the gilded doors with ease. How could you be so calm when he, the pro hero, was so stilted?

 Through dinner, he was amazed by your grace. He never thought such simple things could consume his thoughts so entirely, like the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your glass, or the way your eyes narrowed as you laughed at something he said. Lesser men would say he was stricken by your beauty, but he knew it was something else. Something that he had ignored for much too long.

 You had made your home in his heart, and now that he had seen you, he wasn’t sure he could ever make you leave. The years of correspondence, much more than any of his classmates and most of his family, had made you a precious commodity that he hadn’t known about until he saw you, truly.

  It all passed too quickly for him, dinner turned into desserts, into drinks. He could postpone it no longer, especially dressed as you were. Your outfit was no match for the night’s chill, and he had run out of excuses besides one.

 “Let me escort you home, I insist.” You giggled, called him a gentleman. How your praise made his heart skip. Wrapped around his arm once more, you fought the breeze as he walked, slower than he should, to your apartment. Much smaller than his, if you knew what he would already do for you, would you decline his offer to put you up somewhere nicer?

 No, that was much too fast. He lingered outside your door, noticing you linger too. Perhaps, if he was reading the atmosphere correctly, he wouldn't have to convince you to let him finance a nicer place. Perhaps, if things went as he wished, he could ask you someday to live with him.

 “May I kiss you?” His voice was quieter than he intended, but it complemented the demure look on your face.

 "Whenever you wish, Iida." His hands brushed your cheeks, wind-bitten and chilled as they were. His hands felt like fire on your face, the kind that was tempered by the confines of a fireplace. One meant to warm instead of raze.

 “Would it be rude of me to ask you to call me Tenya?” His finger grazed your lip, and he wondered if he could wait for your answer before his restraint wavered.

 “Only if you intend to return the favor, Tenya.” He knew the answer now, all restraint vanished from him as his name slipped from your lips. It was a dangerous game for him to play, letting a singular word have such power over him, even if it was only from your mouth.

 When his lips met yours, soft and yielding, he once again thought himself a fool. If he felt the call of his name was dangerous, it held no risk compared to the feeling of your lips.

Taglist: @beatific-drabbles @zbops @moonsaye @dadchis-girl @verdandi24-blog @cornchipsanddip @gokm1023 @animefandomally @rocorambles @say-my-name-assbut @idalinette @animewh0re @queenmira29

[cauliflowercounty]

Meet Me in the Middle Pt. II (Fred Weasley x fem! Reader)

House:  Ilvermorny, You Choose

Blood Status:  You Choose

Warning: Mentions of alcohol use

Read Part I Here!

-----

Fred blinks his eyes open to see a bland white wall come slowly into focus. He seems to be lying down in a bed, covered in a white sheet and his limbs feel heavy as lead. As he regains his consciousness, he hears a beeping coming from his side and a blistering pain erupts in his head, making him groan.

“He’s awake!” he hears his little sister gasp. Footsteps on the linoleum rush out of the room and he hears Ginny calling to the rest of his family.  “It’s Fred!”

All at once, he sees a whole bunch of red-headed people crowd around his hospital bed.

“Where am I?” he murmurs, his voice weak and hoarse from not speaking.

“Muggle hospital,” he hears George murmur.  “The doctor is a muggle. You were transferred here after you stabilized.”

“Oh, my boy!” Molly Weasley gasps, taking his right hand in hers, her eyes brimming with tears, thankful that her family has made it through the war.

The doctor comes in moments later to talk to Fred, but everything seems to flash by and all Fred can think about is what happened. He was laughing as Pius Thicknesse got turned into a sea urchin by Percy and then everything stops there. The doctor mentions something about physical therapy and then leaves to let Fred talk with his family.

“Did we win?” Fred asks and everyone nods. “How long was I out?”

“A month and a half,” Percy says. “We thought you’d never come back.”

“I couldn't go out like that,” Fred smiles. “Fred Weasley? Going quietly like that? Never?”

The family laughs a little around him, realizing Fred and his jokes are here to stay. With that, Fred leans his head back and closes his eyes. He’s alive. He made it through the war, but now his mind is turning to you.

Fred struggles as he uses the metal bars beside him to walk. He’s been in physical therapy for so long. He’s gotten a lot of his mobility back, but not his muscle mass. He’s improving daily, but he’s not doing well enough. he’s not well enough for his plan. His goal is to get back to where he’s walking and independent again. He’ll send you a letter telling you he’s alive and he’s coming to meet you in New York City and that he hopes you’ll meet him there.

He still can’t walk, though, but Fred’s determined to get strong enough to reach you again.  He doesn’t want you to see him like this.

After months of frustration, falls, and feeling inadequate and hopeless, Fred can walk again. he still needs a cane if he’s tired or feeling weak, but he’s made fast progress. Finally, after a long drawn out process, he sends you a letter when he feels ready.  

Dear y/n,

I’m sorry for not writing for so long. The war changed everything and I want to apologize. I was in the hospital for a long while. I got injured at the Battle of Hogwarts. I’m doing well now, though. I want to come meet you in the U.S. I know it's been a long time, but you’ve been one of the only things I can think about now. You were one of my best friends before the war and I don’t want that to be the end of it.

If you’d like to meet me, I’ll be in New York City on July 1st. If you want to meet me, send me a sign. Anything. Please, y/n.

Your Freddie

As he sends the letter off, he’s hoping you’ll get it and that you’ll want to see him as much as he wants to see you. He hopes that he’s still special to you. He hopes you feel the same way.

A few days later of Fred not sleeping, hoping for a response, George walks up to him and hands him the smallest envelope he’s seen and leaves Fred alone, knowing this is from you.

Hands shaking, Fred undoes the wax seal on it with a pop. He unfolds the paper and his heart leaps in his chest as he reads the handwriting he’s learned to recognize.

July 1st, 6:30pm @ 30 Rockefeller Center outside Radio City Music Hall.

~

Showing the ministry man his identification, Fred, cane and bag in hand, steps into a room with an old dictionary in it. It’s one of the Ministry regulated portkeys to New York. As he grabs on, the world swirls around him. It spins and twists until he hands in a room where he is ushered away by a MACUSA worker. He checks his bag just outside the door. The witch looking at his bags gives him the all-clear and Fred sets off to the information outside customs.

“Excuse me,” he says to the wizard behind the counter.  “What time is it?”

“5:55,” the wizard responds, looking up at a clock on the wall beside him.

“and how do I get to Rockefeller Center?” Fred asks. The wizard gets up out of his char and rushed over to a filing cabinet and pulls out a map and hands it to Fred in the opening in the glass that stands between him and Fred. The information wizard gestures for Fred to go away so he can serve a witch who’s carrying two crying babies looking for currency exchange.  

Taking out the map, Fred steps outside and joins the throng of people moving through the NYC sidewalks. When Fred gets to Radio City, it’s 6:36 and he cruses himself for not being right on time. From his jacket pocket, he takes out the photo you sent him all those years ago. He looks down and watches as you pet the niffler, that same twinkle in your eyes that he’s grown to love. He spins around, trying to pick you out, but suddenly he notices a woman standing on the street corner, her hands in her pockets. She looks around and he realizes it’s you. 

You’ve changed your hair and you’ve gotten older since that care fo magical creatures picture was taken. Your eyes are the same, but they’re ever so slightly duller, the wear and tear of the war presenting itself.  In that moment, Fred is so thankful the collapse didn’t take his life.  Not only would he not be able to be with his family ever again, but he would have never met you in person and finally hear your voice. 

Fred walks slowly toward you, not wanting to shock you, but he’s excited and nervous, which he fears might make him move suddenly.

“Excuse me?” he says as he comes to stand by you.  “Y/n?  Is that you?”

You turn to your right as soon as you hear your name said with a British accent. You look up and see Fred Weasley, the tall ginger boy you’ve been pen pals with since you were sixteen. The one who’s letters you always looked for in the mail, the one who sent you bizarre British candies and foods for you to try, the one you’ve shared your hopes, dreams, and secrets with

“Freddie!” you smile with a gasp, wrapping your arms up around him for a hug. Fred is surprised at your frowardness, but it’s not unwelcome. He’s waited for this moment for years. “I can’t believe it!”

“Me neither,” Fred says, still in shock a bit.  “I’ve waited for this moment for so long you have no idea, y/n.”

You giggle and it’s music to Fred’s ears.  “You act like I think you’re chopped liver. Of course, I’ve waited for this, too!” 

A blush coats Fred’s cheeks. You’ve wanted this, too.  

“You’re probably wondering why I wanted you here at this time?” you say and Fred nods in response.  “Well, I’ve got a pair of tickets to a concert that’s happening inside. Would you like to accompany me and then we can get some food after?”

Fred’s heart is going a mile a minute as he accepts. This is everything he ever could have anted from meeting you for the first time. You take Fred’s hand gently and pull him to the box office to give the man your tickets.

Inside, you both sit next to each other as the music plays. In the darkness, you intertwine your fingers with Fred’s. You notice he tenses as you do so.

“Are you okay, Freddie?” you ask. Fred shakes his head, loving the way his name falls off your lips.

“I just wasn’t anticipating it...,” Fred whispers.  “I’m not uncomfortable... I just have been dreaming of this for more than I’d care to admit.”

The light from the stage shines in such a way that Fred can tell you’re smiling at him.  

“I’ve been dreaming of this, too,” you share as you rest your head on his shoulder ever so gently. Fred’s stomach is filled with tingly sensations as you do. His heart is dancing in his chest and he is only barely keeping his glee under control as to not disrupt the other audience members.

For the rest of the show, all Fred can think about is you. All of your letters are running through his mind and what it’s taken to get here to this moment and he couldn’t possibly be happier.

Later, you take him to Joe’s Pizza on Carmine street for real New York-style pizza. There’s not a moment when you’re both not smiling at each other. By the end of the night after a few drinks, Fred finally plucks up the courage he’s wanted to have all this time. He kisses you. On the mouth in front of everyone at the bar. You hear their whistles and cheering, but all you can really register are Fred Weasley’s lips on yours and the his arms wrapped around your body, not wanting to let you go over again.

~ 

Months later, you’re both in the bedroom of your apartment in London, the sun shines through the window as you snuggle into Fred’s chest.

“Morning, my love,” Fred yawns, raising his arms up to stretch.

“Few more minutes, Freddie... It’s too early,” you mumble as you roll over on top of him.

“Come on, y/n. The sun is already shining, and we have to open the shop. You can do it. Get up, love” Fred encourages, giving you a few nudges.  “At least let me get up?”

“No!” you reply, hugging him tighter.  “You’re staying with me. I’m not letting go!”

“Alright,” Fred says, yielding to your wishes.  “A few more minutes. Georgie can’t blame us for being a few minutes late when he hears that we’re engaged now.”

“Mmhmm,” you reply.  “Your mother is going to have a field day when we tell her. She’s been wanting to plan another wedding for so long.”

“Should we owl her or tell her in person?” Fred asks, considering owling her might be better in order to avoid his mother clobbering him with questions.

‘That’s a problem for later, Freddie. Now is the time for sleep,” you insist as Fred finally closes his eyes, already envisioning the beautiful wedding you’ll have together.  Before 7th year, he always envisioned himself marrying one of the girls from the Gryffindor Quidditch team or something.  Never would Fred have ever guessed that he would fall in love with his pen friend from the US and travel thousands of miles just to meet her.

[thewildeclub]

Hi! I am sending my friend a pen pal package and gifts in the mail. I am new to mailing things and was wondering if you had any kind of suggestions? I also am not sure what to include in the letter I want to write him since we talk almost every day. He likes reading and anything trippy. Thanks in advance!

Hi babe, first off you are a incredible and your friend is going to love whatever you send. I am still learning how to send packages so I can’t give too many tips in that regard BUT I have a few suggestions about presentation.

Packaging makes even the smallest gift feel expensive: I love saving tissue paper from Christmas and online shopping packages as well as the bells and whistles such as the little bags, cardboard backing, washi tape, etc. I love padding the bottom with some decorated tissue paper and wrapping 1-2 of the total gifts with some wrapping and twine. It looks beautiful and makes that 1$ magnet feel 20$.

Its all in the Note: The best touch to a package is the note. It can be placed at the top of the package to be read first or tucked in a book (if thats a gift, more on that below). It can be the size of a index card, written in fountain pen with a small envelope tucked with a sticker because who doesn’t love a sticker. While yes you talk every time, but why these gifts? Why are you sending it to them? You wanted to send them something that made you think of them (my favorite reason) or a special occasion or you wanted to celebrate them and their mind. 

A La Gifts: Every time someone has sent me a book I cry. There is nothing more euphoric than ripping off the brown craft paper off a book and seeing that scuffed well loved cover and reading a inscription on the first page. It is the most underrated love language in the entire world. I would send everyone a book this way if I could. If you can I suggest buying a thrifted copy especially if its a older book. There are some fantastic resources online to buy thrifted books. Now regarding specialized book for your pen pal I would recommend some of the following:

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe

Naked Lunch by William S Burroughs

The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon 

Slaughterhouse - Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin

I hope this wee guide has helped you and when sending the package reach out to you local USPS or whatever postal service you use and ask how to compile the package and/or letter.

Good luck!

xx Savannah

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

In Your Letter (Viv x Reader)

edit: omg I totally forgot to dedicate this to @defkisshalen​ when I put this in the queue. I hope this is enough “vivian for the soul” for you girl ;D

Prompt: It’s 1983, you’re part of Def Leppard’s road crew on the Pyromania Tour, and you get a letter from your pen pal one day- a pen pal whose identity you keep a secret from everyone else. They all insist you have a huge crush on whoever this mysterious gentleman is, but you know they’re wrong.

Or, are they...?

---------

July 21st, 1983. Victoria, British Columbia, Canada

Checking for the post turned out to be a joyous decision, and you knew right away it would probably be the best decision you'd make all day. As you shuffled through the pile of mail in the back hallway of the venue, you couldn't hide the giddy smile that appeared once you saw the envelope that was addressed to you. Just like that, the day was off to a great start. 

It was made out to a "Ms. Y/n L/n" like always. The gentleman-like flattery never failed to touch your heart, and it never failed to signify who had sent the piece of mail your way.

Concealing the envelope under your arm and throwing the other mail on a table for everyone else, you scurried off to a different room for some privacy. This wasn't exactly something you wanted to keep a secret from your surrounding crowd, but you thought it was for the best that you did. You were teased enough already by the crew and the band about your pen pal, and you could only imagine how much worse it would get once they actually knew who you had been writing to (and how often he was writing you back).

You shut the door and quickly threw yourself into a chair, kicking your legs out of excitement as you tore open the envelope. After you extracted the letter, you didn't hesitate another second before unfolding it and slowing down your impulse to carefully read the familiar handwriting.

"Hi, Y/N! I hope this got to you at the right place- since you said this Victoria address would be the one to send to around this time. Either way, it won't be a problem. You know we always make things work somehow. Now normally in this space I'd be answering questions from your last letter, or writing about all the exciting things I've been up to with the band, but I'd rather tell you in person. Yes, you heard me! Surprise! I'll be in Victoria on the 20th and 21st for some promotional reasons, and I'd love to catch up with you when you get there (as long as you're not too busy with Leppard things)! My tour starts on the 23rd, so this will be the only opportunity to meet up for a while. I wrote the number of the hotel I'll be staying at below, so give me a call when you get this, okay? If I don't hear from you by 1pm on the 21st then I'll give your venue a ring just in case you didn't get this letter. We'll sort out details over the phone. Can't wait to talk!! 

See you soon (hopefully)! Xx

-V.C.

P.S, Hope you like the candy I sent! Something sweet for the sweetest person I know : )"

There was an arrow pointing to a small wrapped candy he'd taped to the paper, and an unwanted blush washed over you. Despite the bashfulness, you felt yourself bouncing in your seat.

You glanced up at the time to check that wasn't 1 o'clock yet. Luckily, it was only 12:14.

"Still got time," you whispered aloud, just before hearing a muffled cough from somewhere in the room.

You turned around in a snap, squinting, and eventually spotting Phil, Steve, and Malvin hiding behind the coat racks in the room.

"Guys!" you whined as you tried to conceal the contents of the letter, "How long have you been there for?"

"Long before you came in," Malvin stood still, despite knowing you were aware of his presence. Steve poked his head out, "You looked so excited that we didn't wanna ask why-" Phil came all the way out, smirking evilly, "But now we can see..." "You didn't see anything!" you scolded them, but paused and went on in a hushed tone to continue, "Did you...?" "Not a thing," Malvin answered in a truthful tone. It was easier to believe him more than the other two. "But this has to be another letter from your mysterious boyfriend, am I right?" Phil teased. "You make it so obvious!" Steve walked out from hiding with Malvin, "What's the bloke sayin' now?" "For your information, he is not my boyfriend." Phil rolled his eyes sarcastically, "Alright, maybe he's not your boyfriend, but you've gotta admit you have been crushing on him pretty hard the past few months..." "I've gotta agree with them," Malvin chimed in, "You do make it quite obvious." "Says you!" you objected, your voice going higher than you wanted it to, "Can't you just leave us alone? Besides, he also plays guitar- maybe even better than you. Both of you." "Oh yeah?" Phil drew back to feign offense, "Maybe we should meet this bloke and have it out for your hand- being as you've got a thing for guitarists, anyhow." You scoffed and gathered everything up to head back out, "Yeah, you wish I did!" There wasn't any time to waste bickering with them; you now had an important phone call to make, and an important reunion to arrange and follow through with before the show that night. "'Boyfriend'," your mind scoffed at them, "What do they know?"

*** Despite the casual air you and your faraway friend always had, you felt an invisible pressure to be sufficiently presentable for him. It was a special occasion, regardless of what the others thought, so with limited time and resources, you ended up slipping into the Leppards' dressing room and snagging some makeup for your own use. You agreed to meet up for dinner with your pen pal (as you still had things to do prior to the show), and you snuck out of the venue at five without being seen or stopped by anyone. Before you knew it, you were approaching the restaurant that was agreed to host the rendezvous. Somewhere in the back of your mind, part of you felt like you were headed to a date. "Ugh, that's Phil and Steve's fault. All that 'Is he your boyfriend?' and 'You've been crushing on him' bullshit." You had long convinced yourself into thinking the guitarists were wrong about the second half of that. You had been writing back and forth to this friend for the better part of 6 months, and during the run of those 6 months, your heart never failed to flutter whenever you interacted with each other. To you, that didn't mean you were "crushing" on him (as Phil had so bluntly put it); you were just excited! When your hand touched the door of the restaurant, you felt your heart accelerate, and your mind was suddenly flooded with all the reasons why you couldn't wait to see him again. You had every reason to be as thrilled as you were. After all, he was an interesting guy, you never got tired while talking to him, he had such a sweet way with words and a guitar, and even just thinking of his accent and eyes made your heart melt- You froze, realizing you were getting too caught up in yourself. You pushed open the door and stood in the entrance, glancing around the establishment to see if he'd arrived yet. The sound of Since You're Gone patted against your eardrums as you looked around the warm, chestnut interior of the restaurant. The instant you found him was sure to make your heart soar with joy, but as luck would have it, he found you first. "Y/N! Over here!" an Irish brogue caressed the words that were called out to you. When your eyes found him, you felt yourself lift off the ground at the happy sight. There he was, sitting in a booth, quickly getting up to greet you. There he was, the curly-haired, bright-eyed Dio guitarist himself. There he was, your dearest Vivian Campbell. You embraced and cheerfully greeted each other before you could get to the table. He kissed your cheek, and you stood on your toes when you hugged him back, feeling as if you somehow found a home away from home. "How did you manage to get this set up on such short notice?" you asked, amazed at how everything fell into place. "Carefulness and luck?" he chuckled before pulling back and eyeing up your whole appearance, "Wow... you look wonderful, Y/N. I swear you've gotten taller, too- cos' I could've sworn I had more height on you last time we met..." "Oh really? And I could've sworn you were less Irish when we last met!" you teased him back. He put his arm around you, leading you back to the table, "I guess when you travel so much, you wanna get back in touch with your roots a bit." "Oh, don't you change a bit," you warned as you took a seat across from him, "You're the only thing that keeps me sane, you know. The entertainment industry can be a little too entertaining at times." "Oh, I know what you mean," Viv started to pour water into the two empty glasses on the table, "We're on different sides of the same coin; the performers and the road crew." "It's nice to sit down and do something simple that's not related to the tour for once, you know? Just so there's a reminder that our typical lives still exist outside of all that." He pushed one glass of water towards you, softly smiling, "Couldn't have said it better myself." "Well then," you raised your glass towards him to make a small toast, "To sanity." He raised his own glass to add on, "And to a conversation that's not on paper for once." *** The sunset had completely taken over the sky once you and Viv were finished with dinner. Both knowing that you had to leave for the Leppard show soon, you took a short walk up to the quiet rooftop terrace of the restaurant to continue your conversation. Sitting next to each other on a bench and overlooking the city in the evening glow, an imminent 'parting of ways' sensation was in the air. You nearly felt like a modern-day Cinderella; the clock nearing the fated time where you had to scurry off from the ball and leave your prince. "Prince?" you nagged yourself, "God, there I go again! Those Leppard boys are getting too much into my head. Talk about having evil stepsisters..." It seemed all there was left for you and your Irish 'prince' to do was reflect on whatever was to come next in your lives. With the tour getting kicked up a notch for you, and his just beginning, it was impossible to know exactly what directions both of you were headed in. Given that, not knowing when you'd see each other again should've been the main topic at this point in the evening, but neither of you wanted to bring it up. It seemed like a future problem, not a problem for the present, so all things on that matter were quieted. "So, do you think this tour is gonna keep Def Leppard on the rise?" Viv asked you, breaking the silence at one point, "I hear they're getting bigger and bigger, and as far I'm concerned, they deserve it." "Oh you have no idea- things seem to get crazier every night, I swear! The word 'rise' is putting it delicately. 'Domination' is more like it. I just hope it doesn't go to their heads..." "You've got enough messes to clean up already, I get it. You're like the mum of the whole band." You let your eyes float upwards to the clouds as you got more lost in the thought, "Why does everyone always say that to me...?" "I'm just speculating-" Viv put up his hands, laughing guiltily, "I've never heard anyone say that before..." "I suppose that is one way to put it... those guys can be a handful, but sometimes I exaggerate too much about them." "You tend to talk about them a lot too, I've noticed." "Well- then I suppose I am their mum. They're well-behaved compared to some other musicians. But they're still crazy in their own ways, let me tell you," you chuckled and added, "I can only imagine that you'd fit into their mix pretty well." Viv laughed with his arms around his stomach. The sound of him, the look of his handsome and toothy smile, plus the surrounding golden pink glow of the sunset stirred up your emotions in a strange way. Maybe it was happiness, maybe it was appreciation, or maybe it was nostalgia for something you knew you were going to miss. "Are you calling me crazy?" he scoffed at you, his laughter persisting, "I thought tonight was supposed to keep us sane?" "Am I wrong, though?" "No, no, you're not wrong," he straightened up, "Guess I've got more in common with those guys than I know." "You're so different in your own way, but you'd be surprised at how much you remind me of them. Maybe all young rockers are just- alike." He brushed his hair back when you glanced at him, and that's when the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye. You let your eyes focus on it, and before you knew it, you were staring, and your heart was softening even more. Now that you noticed the small detail, you had no idea how you didn't notice it sooner. "What?" Viv asked, oblivious and looking around for what you were fixed on. You blinked as you were broken from the trance, but still continued to stare at him, "I just- I noticed you were wearing the bracelet I made you..." He held up his wrist so you'd have a clear view of it, "Oh yeah, I wear it all the time! Wanted to be sure I was wearing it when I saw you tonight, though." Again, you fought against the rising flush that wanted to be visible on you. "Shit, why is that making me blush? He's just being a good friend." "I'll admit, I'm touched and surprised that you remembered," you looked back out at the sunset over the city. Viv shrugged, turning to look at the sunset respectively, "'Course I did. We're always so far apart, so it's nice to have a little part of you with me sometimes. Can't exactly carry your letters with me onstage if I want to." The flush couldn't be held back now. Viv's flattery was too much for your heart, and too much to not grin at. "But don't people talk?" you purposely teased him the way your crew did to you. "Talk about what?" "Well-" you tried to accurately express the emotions you felt towards the Terror Twins, "For example: the people I work with call you my 'boyfriend' simply because I write to you. Don't people wonder why you suddenly started wearing that bracelet and disappearing to meet with a woman you call your 'pen pal'?" "Now that you mention it," he rubbed his chin, "I'm surprised no one does... guess people don't care enough to tease. Or maybe I got lucky?" You scoffed and shook your head, "Lucky? Absolutely. I had to keep it a secret that I was coming here just to enjoy myself!" "That's awful that they won't leave you alone," he frowned. "Don't worry," you looked over at him and made a swatting motion with your hand, "It's easy enough to get back at them. All you gotta do is eat their lunch and blame it on someone else." "Is that so?" "It's either that, or let a mouse loose in the showers. Works every time." You both cracked up with laughter, each resting back against the bench then hunching over. "This is why I like meeting up with you- you're such great company!" Viv put his hands flat on the bench, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears. "You could say that again," you mimicked the posture, keeping a smile on your face, "It's nice to see the face of a rock star that I don't work with, and one that doesn't need me to throw away his dirty tissues." Viv looked up at the clouds and snickered, "I could give you some of mine if that's what you want." "Don't you start, mister," you threatened him, breaking up into soft giggles again. You paused, and let yourself sigh to him, "God, I'm gonna miss you. After tonight, I mean. I know we'll keep writing and all, but it sucks that we can't see each other that often." His hand found yours, casually patting and resting on top of it, "Oh, I know. But tours, right? What can you do about 'em?" You smiled down at your joined hands, slowly moving yours from underneath Viv's, adjusting the position so you were now holding his instead. "You just gotta go with it and hope there's days that they cross paths." From the corner of your eye, you saw him look at you with a gentle grin, then turn away. He gently gave your hand a squeeze, and you hoped to god he couldn't feel your heartbeat through your fingers, as he would've noticed it was speeding up. Silence fell between both of you for a moment. The only things you could hear were the sounds of the street below, and the breeze around you. Your thumb moved back and forth on his skin as you let your sight fall back down to the way you were holding hands. He slowly looked back down, too, not letting his sight trail away to anything else. When the pause was broken, Viv's voice was softer than it'd been. "Y/n, can I..." "Mmhm?" "Can I be honest with you?" Your voice went gentler as you suddenly felt a new sensation in the air, "Of course." His eyes slowly drifted upwards until he was looking at you, "I think I wanna kiss you..." There was no use hiding the coy smile when it took over. You instinctively looked down for a second to break the eye contact. "...can I?" he sweetly asked when you looked back up at him, his eyes looking reminiscent of a polite puppy, "Is that okay...?" You carefully lifted your eyes back up to meet his again. You nodded and whispered, "Okay." When you granted the permission, you swore you noticed redness on Viv's cheeks. It was good to know that you weren't the only one being bashful for once. Still keeping the hold on your hand, Viv slowly began to lean in, briefly glancing at your lips before letting his eyes close. You did the same, welcoming the warm lips onto your own. The initial contact was deeper than you'd anticipated, but he prolonged it into a softer, more tender kiss. Although a kiss is all it was, you felt- almost literally- swept off your feet. You gently put your other hand on the side of his face, wanting to absorb whatever feeling of glory was being created. Some of his soft curls brushed up against your hand as they lightly trembled in the breeze. Viv broke the embrace slowly, still trying to fight a shy smile. "He never gave me any indication of being shy before... wow, what did I do to him?" You went back to facing the urban view, but broke the hold on Viv's hand to rest your head on his shoulder instead. "Yeah..." you sighed dreamily, "Can't do that in a letter." He silently chuckled against you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "I could've just written an 'x' on your lips instead..." *** The sunset was nearly over and done with as you took a cab back to the venue. The crowd for the Leppards' show would be almost completely filled in by the time you got back, meaning you'd have work to do. "Cinderella's gotta get back to unfinished work," you concluded to yourself, smiling as you stared at the remaining orange streaks in the sky. You and Viv wanted nothing more than another date to arrange a meetup, but you both knew it'd be impossible for the time being; tours rarely crossed paths. As the cab drove on, you felt your path get further and further away from his. No bother, though. You'd write each other as soon as you could. The paths would cross again someday. While the imprint of his lips still ghosted over your own, you didn't want to think too much into it. After all, you wouldn't see or speak to each other for a while yet; the kiss would probably mean nothing in the near future, because that's just how life unfolds around things like that. But for that same evening, though, it meant almost everything. You just wanted to remember that. You got back to the venue in time before the show, a gentle, goofy smile stuck on your face. Your eyes didn't dare look at anything but your feet as your legs dreamily floated you back to a break room. In the back of your mind, you couldn't help but worry that someone- somehow- had seen what you were up to. You put down your purse and flopped into a chair with a thick exhale. Upon remembering how the incident with the Twins and Malvin went earlier, you looked around, and confirmed to yourself that you were alone. Calmer now, you closed your eyes. You could still picture the light of the golden-pink sunset gently vignetting Vivian's face. "A conversation that's not on paper," you recalled the toast from earlier in a whisper. "And a kiss that wasn't on paper either..." You would've never guessed when you woke up this morning that you'd end up kissing your pen pal in such a romantic way. It was crazy how events unfolded in this backstage life. When all seemed settled, and your personal chapter for the day had ended, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," your head went upright again. The door creaked open, and Malvin came inside. You greeted him tiredly, "Hey." "Where have you been?" he asked as he went to a vending machine, "Can't just disappear like that and not tell me what you're up to..." A shrug was all you could think to reply with. "It was nothing. I went to get dinner." "Really? And with who?" "How do you know if I went with someone?" "The shade of red on your face tells me otherwise." You scoffed at him, "You're making that up." "Maybe I am," he teased you, "Better get up there in the next ten minutes though, everyone's wondering where you've been." "I'll be up there in six." Malvin took his drink and nodded, heading towards the door. He took a sip, but stopped himself before he could get to the room's exit. There came a playful nag from him, "Oh, and I haven't told the others this yet, but you've got some explaining to do!" "I do?" "Yeah," he affirmed, going on in a lower tone of disbelief, "You've been writing to Viv Campbell?!" Your heart leapt up, then proceeded to drop into the pit of your stomach.

Shit.

The end.

------ “Since You’re Gone” by The Cars

[brittle-bone-gabe]

Erase Me: Introduction

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven

Summary: Welcome to the never ending, never changing loop. The loop can’t break, it’s always been the same. Henry never realized he was trapped, but coming back to the animation studio for the “first time” just to see a small, human-like child makes Henry realize that dreams really do come to life. 

Read on other platforms: AO3, FFN, Wattpad

                                                 August 15th, 1963

Henry Stein was a man of not so many words, yet a man of the paper; while he wasn't great with speaking he could draw out exactly how he was feeling, getting his thoughts down on paper was one of his greatest strengths. That's one of the reasons his wife, Linda, loved him more than the world itself. He was a hardworking, talented man who could've went after whatever he wanted and be successful. In fact, Henry was considered to be a success as he and his former friend and business partner, Joey Drew, opened Joey Drew Animation Studios together, creating popular cartoons back in the day. Henry was co-founder and animator, creating the popular characters of the time, such as Bendy the Dancing Demon, Boris the Wolf, and Alice Angel. While he did have the time of his life working there, his only year there was enough to see that Joey's work ethics were becoming… questionable, to put it lightly. He had begun making erratic business choices, hiring more and more, making people stay for hours, even days, on end; one of the reasons Henry just had to leave, he was missing his wife Linda.

It's been thirty-years since Henry left Joey Drew Studios and moved with Linda to Pasadena, California. Did Henry regret leaving the studio? Sometimes. He surely did miss his coworkers, he missed Joey, he missed his creations, even though he was across the nation Henry never missed an episode of Bendy playing on the TV. Seeing the joy that he helped create on the silver screen, in fact, Henry heard that there were plans to expand on the merch of Bendy and his friends, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was. Besides the merch and plush toys, Henry thought they were making great money based on their popularity. Henry would be a liar if he said he didn't own a Bendy, Boris, and Alice Angel plush toy himself.

Honestly, Henry bought them hoping to pass them down to his children someday, unfortunately for the Stein's while they wanted children and tried multiple times, it turned out that Linda was infertile. For the longest time the news had put a strain on their marriage, as they both so badly wanted to have children someday, but it is what it is, and they did enjoy their company more than anything, so it wasn't an entire deal breaker for their marriage.

Henry had recently retired from being an animation manager at a low-tier animation company. They weren't anything fancy, certainly not trying to compete against Joey Drew Studios (not many companies were brave enough to do that), mainly this studio worked on animations for advertisement purposes. The company was laid back, the owner had more or less "normal" work ethics and didn't work their animators to the bone, perhaps that's why Henry was so drawn into staying for as long as he had. He had only worked five days a week, nine-to-five with great pay for an animation manager. As long as Linda was happy then Henry was happy with his job.

This Thursday felt like any other Thursday since Henry retired and lived the life as a man free from the chains of work, Henry had agreed to go out to the store while Linda stayed home and tidied up the house while he was away. It was an agreement they had in place, Henry does the shopping while Linda did the cleaning, it was a great deal on the fact that Henry hated cleaning and Linda hated going to the store. While Henry was out, he noticed a huge pile of Bendy the Dancing Demon plush toys with various characters that children were going absolutely wild for, begging their parents to buy them one. Henry couldn't help but smile, seeing the joy that his creation brought to children all over America was enough to satisfy him until he day he dies. The best part about these plush toys? They squeak. Something that other plush toys didn't do, although people did complain that the squeaks made their dogs tear up the toys. Whoops. A bit of an unthought of backfire on the designer's end, but oh well. Whatever sells, right?

Once Henry got back from the store he checked the mailbox, as that was normally his job to do anyways. Huh… nothing was in there. That was odd, the mail usually came around this time, unless Linda got the mail?

"I'm home," Henry called as he carried all six plastic bags in at once, not wanting to make another trip out to the car that was now parked in the garage. He wandered into the kitchen to set them down on the counters and floor so he could help put them away. Linda was already in the kitchen, a bright smile on her face, the smile that she gave Henry whenever she saw him. She stood up on her toes, giving him a peck on the lips. "Did you grab the mail, hun?"

"Well…" Linda started, turning around, picking an envelope, "the mail man was told to bring this directly to the house," she explained, handing it to him.

Henry took it from her, noticing the Joey Drew Studio stamp printed on the front, the envelope was addressed to Henry. Odd… He had no contact with Joey or the studio in thirty-years, what was going on? He took a seat at the table in the kitchen while Linda began to put away the cold groceries so they wouldn't get ruined. Henry gently opened the envelope with a letter open, not wanting to possibly damage whatever it was inside. Just digging his fingers around inside, whatever parchment this was written on was rather thick, so it must have been an official letter of some kind.

Pulling out, it was a small letter written in thick ink on a sepia colored paper with a little Joey Drews Studio logo printed on the bottom right hand corner. Henry instantly recognized the handwriting to be that of Joey Drew himself, even after thirty-years Henry could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Dear Henry,

It seems like a lifetime since we worked on cartoons together. 30 years really slips away, doesn't it? If you're back in town, come visit the old workshop. There's something I need to show you.

Your best pal, Joey Drew

Henry flipped the paper over, making sure there wasn't anything printed on the back. There wasn't, so he flipped it back around to make sure he read that correctly. After all these years Joey wanted to open the studio back up? Last Henry heard was that the studio shut down, he didn't know the specifics, but he knew that it was locked up. As long as Joey didn't change the locks Henry could still get in considering he still had a key to unlock the front door of the studio.

Well, what could be so important that Henry had to go all the way across the country to see what Joey had at the studio? Surely if it was something important he could've sent him a longer letter? A flight from California to New York City was a rather long one. Henry could surely afford the trip, but would it be worth it? It must be if Joey's sending him a letter after thirty-years…

"Bad news?" Linda asked her husband by only judging the look on his face.

"What?" Henry asked as he looked up at Linda who had a small smile on her face. "Oh, no. No, not bad news. It's from Joey."

"Joey? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he…" Henry trailed off, looking at the letter again, "he wants me to come back to the old studio. He said he has something to show me." He looked back up to see what Linda's expression was. She looked both worried yet interested on what it could possibly be.

"It must be something important if he's sending you a letter," she pointed out, throwing some plastic out in the garbage can. "Are you going to go?"

"What do you think?" Henry didn't want to just up and leave Linda to go across the country without asking her opinion on the matter. Her voice mattered just as much as his wants did.

"I think you should go," she said without missing a beat, which surprised Henry as last he recalled she hated the studio due to the fact that it took up all of his time, especially his time from home when he was gone for days at a time. "It's been thirty-years, besides, I think it would be good for you to see your old friend again, reminisce about the old times," she said with a smile.

"Only if you're okay with it," Henry said as he stood up from the chair, "one-hundred percent sure?"

Linda let out a small chuckle, wrapping her arms around Henry's neck, swaying a little bit. "I'm one-thousand percent sure, Henry. As long as you don't work for days on end again." That comment caused Henry to chuckle, pressing his forehead against hers. What did he do to deserve such an amazing wife?

-----

Henry paid for a plane ticket to head to New York that left Saturday morning, he had packed a small bag as he didn't plan on staying for too long, he had reassured Linda that he would be back in a couple of days. It was odd leaving his wife behind while he went back to the studio, it made him think of the old days when he left for work just to end up staying there for days on end working while the couple was left missing each other terribly. Henry was a family man, no doubt about that, he would put Linda before anything in his life, even a good job, as that's already been proven.

Once the five-hour plan landed in Brooklyn, New York, Henry took a cab to the closest hotel to the studio, so he didn't have to ride very far to get there. Plus, he wanted to do as little traveling as possible around here, Brooklyn was hard to get around as it was.

After checking into his room and getting settled with his stuff, Henry pulled out the old studio key that he had kept all these years. Just in case he would tell himself and Linda over and over as an excuse to not get rid of it. Maybe he actually wanted to keep it in case of emergencies, or maybe he wanted to keep one last souvenir of a company that he loved and helped build from the ground up. Henry would never admit it out loud, but he was eager to see how the studio looked after all these years, probably not in the best condition due to the fact it's been closed since 1959. Four years could put a lot of strain on an unused building.

Once Henry was ready to face his past, he grabbed a taxi and took a short drive down to the old brick building that once held his entire future. The building itself looked to be in fairly good shape, the only imperfection was the letters that once said Joey Drew Studios were missing, only leaving behind shadows and outlines of what used to be there. Henry thanked his taxi driver, giving him a tip before getting out. He stood outside the building for a moment, taking everything in, still not sure what he was expecting from all of this. What did Joey want? What was so important that he couldn't add more to the letter that he sent? It was so vague… What else could be in the studio that Henry didn't already know about? Time to stop thinking and time to investigate.

Henry took out the key he held on tight the entire drive over here, putting it in the lock of the door. Henry was half expecting the lock to reject the key, leaving him no way to get in, but a small burst of anxiety filled his chest once the key turned completely, causing the door handle to click. He pushed the door open with his fingertips, some dust escaped the old abandoned building, causing Henry to let out a small cough as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"Alright, Joey. I'm here. Let's see if we can find what you wanted me to see."

[afictionaladventure16]

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project... 

Warnings: Mentions of a dysfunctional family, foul language

Word Count: 1,656

Chapter 7

Letter #7

*Gif not mine 

November 11th, 2017

“Wait, so when do you go back to filming?” Scott had asked for about the fifth time today.

Chris rolled his eyes slightly, “in the middle of January,” Chris mumbled.

“And you’ll be gone for about four months, what are you going to do about the girl you’ve been writing to?”

Chris sighed, “her name is Julie,” He stated, “and you guys keep making it seem like if something is going to happen.”

“Because we haven’t seen you this happy in a while,” Scott stated.

“I haven’t even met her, Scott, I don’t want to get my hopes up. Hell, she doesn’t know who I really am. Once she finds out she’s going to stop writing… So, I’m gonna pretend to be this normal guy Chris and I’m gonna help her and she’ll most likely do the same with me. Communication in this thing is the key, it’s what the project is about.”

Scott just smiled at how easily his brother was defending himself, “alright, alright,” Scott said as he put his hands up. He turned to look at their nieces and nephews playing in the yard. “But what if she doesn’t react that way?”

Chris sighed, knowing very well his little brother wasn’t going to let this go, not only him but his older sisters as well, “then you can say I told you so.”

Scott stayed silent for a few seconds, “I spoke to Jenny not too long ago,” he said softly.

Chris closed his eyes as if to hold his composure, “And?” It was true, he still was in pain of letting Jenny go, but they just weren’t a match. They were both so totally different people and he always wondered why they even got together in the first place.

Scott sighed, knowing he shouldn’t have brought Jenny up, “never mind. Shouldn’t have brought her up, I just wanted to change the subject.”

“you’re horrible at that,” Chris said as he let out a small chuckle.

“So I’ve been told,” Scott smiled.

“It’s getting late,” Chris said as he got up, he ran over to his nieces and nephews promising he’d be back tomorrow for a movie night. Walking back over to Scott, who was stuck babysitting for the night, “good luck,” Chris said with a smirk as he walked out the back gate.

Chris made his way on over to the post office, he’d been checking it since the day after he sent a letter, knowing very well that the letter wasn’t going to arrive as fast, he had some hope that it will.

Opening the door for an older lady who was leaving the post office, Chris made his way in. He opened the small p.o. box to only reveal a key and his letter. Chris grabbed the key and looked at the number that had been attached to it, Chris looked around for the specific box the key had been for, finally finding it at the very end of the post office. He opened the box to reveal an orange envelope that read Fragile on it.

Chris was even more excited about this as he noticed Julie’s name on the orange envelope, but of course, it would be her. Chris made his way out of the post office.

Once he was home, Chris made sure he spent some time with Dodger before even reading the letter, giving the lovable dog some food and then some much-needed cuddles. Chris then decided to read the letter.

 Dear Chris,

Hmm, looking back at the letters, I recall that we both said it. As for your nickname…. I sure have to give this a thought, certainly, this is something I am going to have to put into the next letters perhaps, but only three chances? Come on, Chris, that isn’t fair. After all, I only know your first name. Of course, how can I forget that you are an actor? My bad.

You know, I’ve never thought of just sitting down with Mr. William and striking up a conversation, I’ll have to do that one of these days. You’ve opened my eyes, Chris.

As for the photos… attached I’ve included a photo I took for my photography class back in college, I am proud of it till this day.

Chris took out the photo from the envelope, it was a beautiful landscape photo in black and white.

It’s from the hills here in California, near the beach, I was driving to get my mind off things and came across this abandoned silo, the photo was just screaming to be taken. So, I pulled over and I may have trespassed, but I got this amazing photo in the process... I hope you like it. It’s my only hard copy.

Chris looked at the photo in awe, wondering if Julie knew how much talent she had, Chris admitted to himself that he could never make such a portrait. The way you just captured the image, blew Chris away, he didn’t know how but he felt so many emotions. Just knowing that you had given him your only hard copy of the photo, meant so much to Chris. He cherished that photo.

I sure do hope you are funnier in person; it’d be a real let down if you aren’t. I can see myself now, making jokes and you just looking utterly confused because you lied of your sense of humor. Tragic.

Living pretty well, you say? Is that a metaphor or something? Does “living pretty well” mean, “help me, I’m poor.” I swear English class has me traumatized. Constantly trying to find meaning in words that don’t have any meaning.

Yes, I am Latina. I do speak Spanish, pretty fluently actually. Willing to learn? The first word you will be learning is Hola. Ho-la. Probably should’ve started with the Spanish alphabet… this would be easier if taught in person… maybe one day? That way I can see you fail in person, oh the scenarios, they are hilarious! Boston must be nice, Chris. I’ve always wanted to visit. Washington D.C. too and New York. I just love to travel. I visited Europe a couple years back, made me realize that I just don’t like staying in one place.

So sorry, Chris. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings there. But I was just trying to defend myself from being hurt. :D

That’s sweet! It’s always nice to see siblings that are close! Reminds me of how me and my older brother John used to argue all the time as children, one day my dad told us that we would end up being best friends. Oh, how we got so pissed at that! But he was right.

What was my favorite subject in high school? Is that really ALL you got, Chris!? COME ON! It was Art. BUT STILL! WEAAAKKKK!!

Now, here’s my awesome, very cool, waybetterthanyours, question: If you could choose one animal (Real or unreal) to be for the day, what would you choose and why?

 Later Vader.

 P.S. No one wants to see my wrath when I am upset.

P.P.S.

No, it’s fine, Chris. I’ve been dealing with my anxiety long enough to know how to calm down these small panic attacks. Yet, there is still sometimes I don’t know how to control it.

I’ve only spoken to this about my therapist, of course, and a couple of my best friends. Irene (who’s also my roommate), Andrea, and Destiny. They’ve been my friends for years, the only people I trust with personal things like this.

I can’t wrap my head around it either, Chris. I really can’t. I’ve tried over and over but I can’t understand it. I wouldn’t do such a thing to my own children. Ugh, they’re not even existent yet and I already know that I want to be the best mother I ever can be for them! When I said guilt for her mistakes I meant, alright when I was a baby there were these rumors that I wasn’t my fathers’ kid.

My father shut down the rumors by lying about getting a DNA test, he didn’t believe the rumors because he thought that my mother wouldn’t do such a thing to him. Fast forward to twenty-one years later, my dad, my brother John and I decided to do this Ancestry test and well when the results came back, my dad and I didn’t have any matches to each other, meaning that we weren’t related. I spoke to my father about it and he suggested a paternity test just to be sure. Those results came back negative. I haven’t spoken to my mother since, especially since when we confronted her, she denied everything. When we provided proof, she said that the DNA test was lying.

That should answer your question about my dad’s son from his first marriage. But my dad, he gave us the best childhood ever. He didn’t have one as a kid, so my dad made sure we got to do all the things he couldn’t do as a child. I loved my childhood. I remember there were times he would be tired from work, but he would still play “nurse” with me, he played a stubborn patient though.

As for me and my stepmother, we get along better now. I guess she just didn’t like sharing my dad. I don’t know. I don’t feel bothered by it anymore.

Ask all the questions you want, Chris and thank you. It means a lot to hear that, especially from someone who doesn’t know me that much, let alone someone I haven’t even met.

 Chris stared at the papers on his hand, he couldn’t believe what Julie just told him. How could a mother deny something like that when there is just proof right in front of her? Chris just wanted to hug Julie and let her know that everything was alright. Yet he couldn’t do that. Not yet, anyway.

So, this one is short and it sucked. Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Love getting all this feedback from you guys! 

Also, REQUESTS for imagines and one shots are open! I’ve been wanting to do a Sebastian Stan imagine just haven’t had any ideas so if you have any and would like me to write it, let me know! Don’t be shy! 

Taglist is open! 

Taglist: @kelbabyblue @cocomel0613 @thejemersoninferno