#these two i could absolutely buy as superheroes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year ago

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Neverending

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff with little to no plot

Words: 14k

Warnings: crying with references to an argument. a single reference to porn. hatred of philosophy. simp woozi who suffers from anxious perfectionism and self-deprecating thoughts.

[College/University AU] With the help of his friends' advice, Jihoon goes on a quest to become the best boyfriend he can be.

Note: I wrote this, had a mental break-down, then finished this, and now I'm sharing it with you in the hopes that it'll save you from a mental break-down of your own or perhaps it'll comfort you in some way. Hang in there, y'all!

It was no secret that Jihoon had little to no experience with romance. His friends often joked that his experience was limited to exactly seven rom-coms and a steamy romance novel from his mother’s bookshelf that he once read in a state of absolute boredom when he was grounded.

And Jihoon was fine with that. He didn’t complain when he made it through middle school without as much as a peck from a girl (or anyone other than Soonyoung, really – he wasn’t picky). He didn’t as much as blink when it was high school graduation day and he was still as single as that one famous whale in the ocean. He merely shrugged when his friends pitied his forever-single state while he was doing his undergraduate degree.

It wasn’t until he started working on his master’s degree that he began to feel left out. Maybe a little over 20 years of being single was just his limit, or maybe it was the constant pitying stares of his friends, or perhaps it was his mother’s not-so-subtle hints of wanting grandkids while she could still run with them – either way, Jihoon finally realised that he was lonely even with over ten friends around him.

And maybe it was this realisation that made him view the people around him differently. All of a sudden, couples seemed to surround him wherever he went. The pair of girls he always saw chatting at the café he worked at? Suddenly he was a witness to the kisses they shared in the corner seat. The guy living across the hall from him in the dormitory? Giggling and kicking his feet after his girlfriend fixed his hair as they left for their 8 am class.

Heck, even Vernon was in a relationship, buying two to-go cups of chai tea from the café every Wednesday, a love-sick smile on his face, before heading to the park to share them with a woman the rest of their friend group could only theorise the identity of.

If Vernon out of all people could find someone, why couldn’t he?

Then, as if the universe had heard the silent cries of Jihoon’s heart, he met you.

Assigned to the same semester-long group project, he quickly realised that you were the only person other than him to actually do the work. It started with looks of exasperation shared across the library table the six of you gathered at, and then the two of you had no choice but to start talking.

Talking – right, that was the first real step. At first about schoolwork – about the research questions of your project, about other courses, about complaints about your professors. Then, barely a week into knowing him, you broke the thin ice.

He could still vividly remember the way you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket just as he was about to walk away after a meeting. You smiled at him – a real smile rather than the tired polite one he had grown so accustomed to – and asked, “So, what kind of movies do you like?”

As soon as he managed to utter the words “I guess… superhero movies?” out of his mouth, you were once again tugging at his sleeve, this time dragging him in the direction of a nearby cinema. You ended up only allowing him to pay for the popcorn (and he had to beg for even that much) because it seemed you were dead-set on treating him like a prince.

That was your first date: after classes, in the darkness of the cinema, with Spiderman swinging by on the giant screen. He barely had any time to pay attention to the plot, too busy relishing in your presence and the sound of your laughter at the corny jokes. And then, as MJ and Peter Parker shared a kiss on the screen, he felt something warm on his hand – your fingers curled around his own and he couldn’t help but give them a squeeze back, his ears as red as Spiderman’s suit.

The impromptu date was followed by another, then another, and another, until you finally had enough and pulled him to the side after class.

“Do you like me?” you asked him, a little frustrated with how slow things were going and with how awkward he still seemed.

His ears flushed red again. “Of… of course I do.” (He preferred to imagine his voice hadn’t cracked in the middle of the sentence.)

Your scowl remained. “Then be my boyfriend.”

When he nodded, you smiled and took his hand again – he told himself he’d never let yours go.

But unfortunately, his lack of romantic experience made it difficult to gracefully slip into the role of your boyfriend. He was almost jealous of the way the role of the girlfriend came so easily to you, taking his hand so easily every day, when he spent hours at night contemplating whether he should kiss your forehead or not when you’d part ways on campus the next day.

On one of those nights, he decided you deserved better. You deserved a better him.

So, he grabbed his phone and texted the one friend he trusted with his life.

[i need advice.]

[how can i be a better boyfriend?]

[YJH: that’s easy! carry her bag for her! girls love that!]

When Jihoon met you on your way to a 12 pm class, he hesitated to follow Jeonghan’s advice. Countless what-ifs floated in his head: what if you thought that it was rude, what if you wanted to carry your own things, what if you tried to carry his bag instead… Did boyfriends outside of fanfiction and romantic movies even carry their girlfriends’ things for them?

Doubts hurried out of his mind soon enough, making way for worry when he saw you adjust the tote bag on your shoulder with a grimace. He inwardly panicked at the sight of your discomfort. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” you wondered as if completely oblivious.

“Is your bag heavy?” His brows furrowed. Before you could take another step, he slipped the bag off your shoulder and onto his own. Your grimace made sense all of a sudden. His frown deepened, but not because of your confused stare. “What do you have in here? An entire drum set?”

You laughed. “No, just my laptop and some snacks.”

Even as he bounced on his spot to test the weight, his frown remained. He glared at the bag. “Your laptop’s not that heavy.”

Your face scrunched up. “My laptop kind of broke yesterday, so I had to revive the old, heavy one.”

Jihoon’s frown disappeared. He stared up at you in surprise, and then, unable to stop himself, he offered, “Do you want me to take a look at it? Maybe I can fix it.”

“Nah,” you shrugged, “I’ll just take it to get it fixed tomorrow. My friend recommended this shop–”

“Don’t be silly,” he scolded you and continued the journey to class. “You know that the shop will take three weeks to even look at your laptop and then another three to order the necessary parts and then another five to actually fix it. You might graduate before they get it fixed.”

“Yeah?” you laughed, following after him, your hand naturally coming to rest around his own. “And you’re faster?”

“Faster, more reliable, cheaper,” he counted on his fingers before offering you a cheeky grin. When you didn’t seem too convinced, he sighed and added, “You can ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you I can do this. I’ve done this before. I fixed Junhui’s laptop just a few weeks ago; got a 5-star review.”

At that, you sighed. In the few weeks of being his girlfriend, you had learnt that he was as stubborn as he was kind. In fact, he was even more stubborn when he was being kind: you had been a first-hand witness to Jihoon physically pinning Kim Mingyu to the ground to put a bandage on a fresh cut on his cheek, all the while cursing the friend under his breath for not being more careful. You shuddered at what Jihoon might do if you continued to refuse his laptop-fixing offer.

You finally sighed again and nodded. “Should I bring it over to your place?”

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, his lips curling into a victorious smile, “I’m free this weekend so I can probably get it done before finals.”

You grinned at the thought. “If you manage to do that, I will literally marry you. You’re the best.”

He could only pray you wouldn’t mention the way his ears undoubtedly turned red again as he adjusted your bag on his shoulder and led you to your lecture room.

[YJH: help her do research for her essay]

Jihoon let out a soft huff as he placed your bag on a seat at the library before gently pulling you to sit in the seat next to it. He let himself fall into the chair across from yours.

“Thank you!” your chipper voice was almost enough to rid him of the muscle pain your pain caused.

He offered a smile and a blink so slow you began to wonder if he took you for a cat. “You’re welcome.”

Then, just like a cat himself, he just sat and watched you set up on the desk. His eyes sharply followed every movement you made, sometimes lingering here or there if something particular caught his eye (your oddly fluffy pink pen was one of those particular things). “So, what are you going to be working on?”

You groaned audibly. “Research for this mythology class I’m taking. We’re supposed to make a big wiki as a class effort. Each of us got a different topic to write about. But, like, it’s more of an actual small research paper: citations, references, quotes…” You pouted. “If you weren’t here, I’d be crying by now.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all – the crying part, because he actually quite enjoyed mythology. Though he hesitated just a little before saying it, he offered, “If you need a hug, just tell me.”

“You’re so cute.” You reached over the table to give him an affectionate pat on his head, effectively both praising him and fixing his windswept mess of hair. “Have you gotten around to fixing my laptop yet?”

Relaxing in his chair, he began, “I’m waiting for a part, but it’s almost fixed otherwise.”

You blinked. “What part?”

“A battery.”

“I don’t think it was a battery issue, though,” you mumbled while avoiding his eyes, not wanting to insult his competence. After all, you were pretty sure the issue was with the graphics – why else would your laptop screen flicker like a rogue disco ball?

As if reading your mind, he chuckled and pulled out his phone to check the package tracking website. “I almost fixed the main issue already, but I noticed that the battery was acting weird, so I figured I might as well fix that too.”

When he looked up from his phone again, you were staring at him with stars in his eyes. His heart thumped a little louder at the sight. “... What?”

You shrugged and turned back to your work. “Nothing.”

He pursed his lips at that and put his phone away again. In his head, he went over all the assignments he had to finish for the following week. Deciding there weren’t any that took priority (a bold lie to himself), he cleared his throat. “So, what do you have to research?”

“Greek mythology.”

“But…” He tilted his head to the side in thought – maybe you wouldn’t want his help? There he went again, he realised: hesitating. He frowned and shook his head clear before smiling at you again. “What exactly?”

“Some mythological creatures. I thought that would be more fun than the usual famous characters.”

“Creatures like… harpies and sirens?”

“Yep.”

Realising you were already deep in the world of research, he decided to not bother you with any further questions. Instead, he slowly and as quietly as he could (but still louder than he would’ve liked) slid his chair back and headed further into the library.

“Mythological creatures,” he mumbled to himself as he wandered between the seemingly endless shelves. Before long, he found what he was looking for. He returned to your table barely ten minutes later, placing a heap of books on it before slumping back into his chair with a deep sigh.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him open the first book and flip through the pages like a man on a quest. You smiled at the sight before focusing back on your work. Even so, you heard the scribble of his pencil and the familiar sound of a sticky note getting ripped out of its block.

Just as you stopped paying attention to him, you felt a book being pushed towards you. When you looked away from your laptop, you found the book you had just seen him read, now laid open on your side of the table, turned to face you.

Light pink sticky notes between the closed pages and a few on the open ones: the book invited you to read. The notes carried Jihoon’s neat handwriting, retelling the contents of the page. Better yet: these were notes about mythological creatures described in the book:

‘Chimera. pg 6: Daughter of Typhon and Echidna. pg 18: lion's body and head, snake for a tail, breathes fire?’

When you glanced back at him, smiling brightly, he was already nose-deep in a different book, paying you no attention.

[Y.JH.: watch a porno together 😉]

Jihoon stared at his friend’s message for a total of five minutes. He then decided that he should stop taking advice from Jeonghan.

He turned to the group chat for help instead.

“You’re going to drive yourself insane before finals even start,” he warned you with a fond smile as you flipped through your worksheets, thoroughly checking each and every one to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.

You offered him a tired glare and turned back to your task. “I’m already halfway there, might as well commit.”

[X.MH.: take her on a walk. enjoy the weather.]

Minghao’s suggestion rang in his head as he watched you. After all, he himself often went on ridiculously long walks in the park when he ran into a metaphorical wall with his work and studies, as did many of his friends. Perhaps it would help you too: romance and relaxation in one – a win on two fronts.

“Do you—” He hesitated. Why did he always hesitate? Even he himself was starting to get annoyed by it. He shook his head to clear his mind and fix his hair before trying again, “Do you want to go on a walk?”

You froze. “A walk?”

He hummed. “To clear your mind. Some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not.”

You mulled it over in your head: assignments versus your adorable boyfriend?

“Fine,” you finally huffed, feigning annoyance, “but I’m going to pet every dog I see and you can’t stop me.”

He laughed at the idea, already imagining it in his head, and got up from the floor before extending a hand to help you up as well. “You’d have to try to stop me first. I’m known for attracting random dogs.”

You took his hand and stretched. “I wonder why.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and handed you your jacket before shrugging on his own. He tried not to think about how your jackets matched – almost like a couple’s item.

Soon, the two of you were walking side by side in the park, laughing at everything and nothing and Seokmin’s attempt to fit in a kids’ swing that you saw in the passing.

As always, your hand found Jihoon’s before he could find the courage to seek your affection. Fingers squeezing together, his skin blissfully on fire against yours – he wondered why he never dared to make the first move and reach for your hand. But if he wasn’t the one to initiate, he at least had an excuse to not let you go.

“How come I’m your first girlfriend?” you wondered, searching his face for answers.

He shrugged. “You just are.”

“You really never had anyone else before?” He shook his head. “Not even a fling?” Another shake of his head. “A hook-up?” He blushed and shook his head harder. You frowned in confusion. “How? You’re, like, perfect. Other girls must have swarmed around you like bees around honey.”

“Don’t be silly,” he denied in a hushed voice, avoiding your eyes so he could act like his ears weren’t redder than the late autumn leaves.

“I know I wanted you to be mine the moment I saw you,” you mumbled with a pout, offended on his behalf. “So, why were you single all this time then?”

Jihoon shrugged once again, his lips in a tight line of awkwardness. “I just wasn’t interested, I guess. Too busy studying.”

“Then,” you hummed in thought before turning to him again, this time eyes shining with mischief, “have you ever kissed anyone before?”

He paled. “I– Uh– Technically…”

“Technically?” you pressed eagerly.

He cleared his throat. “Technically I’ve been kissed by one person.”

“Technically?!” You were scandalised, baffled, puzzled, curious beyond belief. He could only laugh hopelessly as you stopped him and grabbed him by the shoulders to stare at him, your mouth agape. “Who was it? Was she pretty?”

“Pretty?” He grimaced. It was too late to lie now – might as well commit to his honesty streak. “In his own way, I suppose–”

“HIS?!” Your jaw dropped even more as he avoided your eyes.

“Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything–”

“No, I need the truth,” you laughed, almost maniacal with both joy and curiosity. You gripped his shoulders, promising to not let him go until you got the answers. “Who was it? Jihoon, you have to tell me.”

He sighed deeply. His head tilted back so he could stare towards the sky, calling for an extraterrestrial life-form to abduct him. He had been doing so great so far… Why did he have to be damn honest with you?

After thirty seconds, he accepted that the aliens hadn’t found his calls appealing enough. He sighed and slumped before you, head lolling forward as he confessed, “Do you know Kwon Soonyoung?”

You burst into laughter, jumping away from him to bounce in joy (Jihoon wondered if maybe the impending sense of finals’ season doom was too much for you) as you repeated, “Kwon Soonyoung? The tiger guy?”

“Of course that’s what you know him for,” he mumbled under his breath, hand reaching up to rub at his eyes so he could avoid eye contact a little longer. “Just so you know, it was nothing serious: he just decided to kiss me on the playground in, like, 6th grade one day.” He sighed deeply at the memory, still unsure how he felt about it after all these years.

But you were too busy giggling to acknowledge his dismay. “On the lips?”

He grimaced. “On the lips.”

“Full on?”

“Full on,” he sighed.

Before he could scold you to not tell anyone else (not that it mattered anyway: Soonyoung had taken it upon himself to share the tale with every person he met anyway), you were in front of him again, still smiling brightly. His scowl melted into a gentle smile at the sight – he sucked at being mad at you.

“Like this?” You leaned forward, placed your hands on his cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss of your own.

All of a sudden, Jihoon swore he was floating. He wrapped his arms around your waist to anchor himself as he leaned further into you, unwilling to part from your lips. Even as you attempted to pull away, he chased after your lips, unsatisfied until you melted back into the kiss.

When he finally ran out of air, you began giggling, a shy glow on your cheeks as you looked at his still-closed eyes. “So?”

“What?” he wondered, slow to open his eyes, and even when he finally did, his eyelids drooped like he was still waking up from the sweetest of dreams.

“Was the kiss historically accurate?” you joked, leaning closer to brush your nose against his.

He was unable to even laugh. Only a dopey smile appeared on his face as he whispered, “No, it was so much better.”

[H.JS.: surprise her with flowers]

[i dont know what kind of flowers she likes tho??]

[W.JH.: unless she’s allergic, i dont think it matters]

Despite still being unsure whether the group chat was helpful or just plain useless, Jihoon followed their advice like it was the law.

Flowers? He could find flowers. Easy. They’re sold almost everywhere. Surely, he could figure out something as simple and universal as flowers.

Wrong.

The moment he stepped into the flower store, he felt like a five-year-old left unattended in a new city. He hadn’t even realised there were so many options. He gulped.

“Can I help you?” an oddly familiar voice called out to him and he whipped his head around in search of the speaker. He found Wonwoo staring back at him, his eyes shining with mischief upon recognising his new customer.

Jihoon grimaced. “I– Nevermind.”

But when he tried to leave, Wonwoo grabbed him by the hood of his white sweatshirt and dragged him further into the store. “Are you going to buy your girlfriend flowers? Like Joshua suggested?”

“I– No– Why would I–” Jihoon’s resolve broke under Wonwoo’s knowing glare. He lowered his gaze to the floor and sheepishly nodded.

Wonwoo let out a small sound of victory before asking, “So, what kind of flowers do you want to get her?”

“That’s the thing,” Jihoon sighed deeply, “I have no clue what to get.”

His florist friend hummed in understanding. “Is she more of a daisy or a rose girl?”

Jihoon offered him a confused look. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve only dated her for a month.”

“Roses may be a bit much then,” Wonwoo concluded with a squint of his eyes before heading somewhere in the store, once again grabbing Jihoon by the hood and dragging him along.

Jihoon could only whine quietly in protest. “Can you stop doing that?”

“No.” The answer was plain, clear, and left no room for argument. “I think tulips are the way to go.”

Jihoon had no further complaints as Wonwoo began piling flowers into his arms. Once he was satisfied, he led Jihoon to the counter – by the hood, once again, as if he was a cat mom carrying her kitten – and began arranging them into a bouquet.

“Do you want me to tie a bow for them?” he asked but Jihoon gave him no answer. When he looked up again, his love-sick friend was staring at the newly-complete bouquet in awe. Wonwoo smiled and handed him the flowers. “There. Do you think she’ll like them?”

“I– How did you know… ?”

Wonwoo’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Was I right?”

Jihoon could only nod before fishing his wallet out. “I seriously owe you one. You’re good at this.”

On the way to your dorm, he couldn’t stop staring at the bouquet. The tulips were exactly the colours he associated with you, as if Wonwoo had read his mind and translated it into flowers. Now he could only adjust them a little and pray you’d like them as much as he did.

A deep breath. A soft knock on your door.

Your roommate opened the door, her eyes lighting up with excitement upon recognising him and noticing the flowers in his arms. She practically dragged him inside while calling out to you, “(Y/n), your Prince Charming arrived!”

Before he could say anything, she patted his shoulder and leaned over to whisper “She’ll love them” before all but bouncing out the front door, offering him one last cheeky wink before she left.

“Jihoon?” he then heard you call out from a distance. “Is that you?”

He called back a confirmation before following your voice to your room. Just as he often did, he found you seated on your bed, your (newly fixed) laptop in front of you, surrounded by endless pages of homework and research. He smiled at the familiar sight.

“Are you busy studying again?” he wondered, his voice impossibly soft just like his heart was for you. “Should I come back later?”

Without looking up, you shook your head. “No, no, please stay. I just have to finish this table and then–” Your gaze lifted to meet his by habit, at which point your jaw dropped. Soon, a smile forced itself onto your face. “Jihoon!”

He feigned ignorance, his lips quirking. “Why?”

“Did you–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, unable to find the words as tears of joy gathered in the corners of your eyes. Pursing your lips to will yourself to not cry, you got up from the bed and walked over to hug him. You held him tight while he just laughed fondly.

“Why?” he asked again, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

You pouted. “You got me flowers?”

When you stepped back, he lifted up the bouquet and asked, “What? This?” You nodded and he laughed again, so completely endeared by your reaction. “Do you like them that much?”

“I love them,” you said and took the flowers from his hands, already rushing to the kitchen to fill a vase with flowers. Despite not leaving your room, he could hear you mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re really going to make me cry at this rate.”

Upon returning with a vase full of water and beautiful flowers, you placed it on your desk by the window. The afternoon light hit them just right and it made you want to cry even more.

You turned to him again. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers like this before. They’re so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you,” he spoke before his mental filter could catch it. He bit down on his tongue the moment he closed his mouth, unable to believe he let the words slip without even thinking about them.

To his relief, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the carelessly spoken compliment made you glow even more. You laughed in joy and pulled him to sit with you on the bed. He could barely find his balance on the soft mattress before your lips were on his.

He decided he’d gift you flowers more often if this was the thanks he earned.

On a sleepless night, Jihoon came to an embarrassing realisation: he had never once initiated a kiss with you. In fact, when it came to physical affection, he hadn’t initiated anything.

The realisation was greatly aided by Boo Seungkwan’s 2 am reply to another one of Jihoon’s cries for help.

[B.SK.: kiss her, you idiot!]

“Kiss her?” Jihoon re-read the message the next day before grimacing in anxiety. He couldn’t even hold your hand without blushing – how was he supposed to initiate a whole kiss? Knowing him, he’d probably accidentally end up kissing your nose or, even worse, ear. The thought made him want to cry so he curled up on a random beanbag on campus, hugging his backpack to his chest, and glared at the message Seungkwan had sent him.

“Who made my Jihoon upset?” your voice carried through the hallway. He looked up to find you walking towards him, a bright smile on your face. Catching his gaze, you smiled brighter before adding to your joke, “Should I go beat someone up? Who was it? Mingyu? Soonyoung?”

“Seungkwan,” he mumbled against the fabric of his bag as you approached him and pressed a kiss to his temple. He could practically feel his ears betraying him and squeezed his eyes shut to will the blush to leave.

Your hand found his hair, stroking it gently. “Seungkwan? The guy who hosts almost every campus event?” He nodded solemnly and you scoffed. “I can take Seungkwan. He should be afraid of me.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, opening his eyes to glance up at you. He didn’t dare to move with the way you were still stroking his dark hair, looking at him so fondly. What if you were startled by his movement and never played with his hair again? No, he couldn’t risk it. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the feeling.

Without even realising it, he leaned into your embrace like a pet looking for warmth. Soon, his head rested against your chest, your fingers still in his hair while his own curled into the fabric of your blouse. He wished this moment lasted forever and then some more.

“So, what did Seungkwan do that you’re like this?” you wondered and he felt the rumble of your voice. He suddenly found he liked it even better this way.

With a small smile on his face, he whispered, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” you wondered. “He must’ve done something.”

“He’s just annoying.” If it hadn’t been for your questions, Jihoon would’ve fallen asleep right there, pressed against you like a tired child. But instead, he came to an annoying realisation. “Do you not have a jacket today?”

“Nope,” he heard you reply.

He hissed at that, gently slapping your side as punishment for crimes against yourself. “It’s cold outside.”

“I run hot,” you made an excuse.

He scoffed. “You whined you were cold the last time you came to my dorm, even though it’s only, like, two degrees colder there than yours.”

You stayed silent at that. He basked in your warmth for a little longer before sitting back up straight and glaring at you. He then fidgeted with the sleeves of your blouse for a moment before scoffing and standing up to pull off his black hoodie. Unceremoniously, he shoved it to you, paying no mind to the puzzled look on your face.

“Put it on,” he finally told you when you made no move to read his mind. “I won’t baby you if you get sick.”

“I won’t get sick–” you began to protest only for him to roll his eyes, grab the hoodie, and pull it over your head himself.

His hands gently guided your own through the sleeves before reaching down to pull the rest of the hoodie down as much as he could. (He made a mental note to invest in a longer hoodie for next time.) As a final touch, he reached up to pull the hood over your head, tying the strings into a neat bow below your chin once he had pulled the fabric around your head – tight enough to make you look just a little bit goofy.

Surprised by his actions, you were frozen in place in front of him. With your cheeks squished by the fabric, you looked just so damn adorable. Jihoon didn’t even think before leaning closer and pressing his lips against your slightly pouted ones.

He pulled away, nodded and smiled – satisfied with his handiwork. The realisation of his actions wouldn’t hit him for another hour.

[W.JH.: i heard her class is having a big seminar this wednesday. maybe you should cheer for her?]

[how would i do that…?]

Jihoon never received a reply to his question. Odd, and incredibly annoying. But he guessed it was only fair: his friends couldn’t give him all the answers. Some things he’d have to figure out himself.

Just as he was contemplating on what to do, his phone buzzed. Hoping for a late reply from his friends, he immediately reached for his phone. To his surprise, it was a message from you instead:

[Y/N: if u never hear from me again, assume i had a heart attack in front of the classroom]

[Y/N: god, i hate seminars so much]

Jihoon paused. Is this what Junhui had meant? He took a deep breath and typed a reply.

[where are you? i’ll come to you.]

He was halfway out of the building by the time you answered.

[Y/N: linguistics building, seminar 321]

Despite never having been to the linguistics’ building before and having close to zero clue where he would even find this room, he ran to where you said you’d be. His lungs were burning from lack of air by the time he got to you and yet his heart ached even more than they did: all it took was one look at your shaky hands as you paced back and forth outside of the seminar room.

“Are you… Are you okay?” he asked through his laboured breaths once he reached you, his hand immediately reaching for yours to ease the shaking.

You sighed in relief at the sight of him. “Jihoon…”

“I’m here,” he whispered with an encouraging smile before letting you burrow into his embrace. On most days, he would have much rather dug a hole and crawled in there than let anyone show him this kind of affection in public. But he was willing to make an exception for you.

Then he spotted the familiar baffled face of Soonyoung from the corner of his eyes and cringed: he would never live this down.

“I’m so nervous about my presentation,” you whispered into his jacket and all of his attention was back on you as if by magic.

He scoffed out a laugh, unable to believe your words. “Are you kidding? You’ll be great.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen you give presentations before,” he reminded you with a gentle pat on your head. “You did great the last time, I doubt this time will be different.”

You wanted to cry at the memory, completely unable to see it the way he did. “I stuttered the entire time and mixed up the slides.”

“Yeah, but it was still fine.”

“It was so embarrassing.”

“It was endearing,” he argued immediately. “Besides, you laughed it off and you still got the maximum grade. Sometimes mistakes happen, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be the end of the world.”

You leaned out of his embrace to chuckle hopelessly. “I can’t decide if you’re really good or really bad at giving motivational speeches.”

“But do you feel better?” You nodded and he grinned brightly. “Then that’s all you need. Now go on in and show them what they’re missing in— What class is this?”

“Environmental Anthropology,” you answered with a sigh and he grimaced: it sounded far from appealing and he didn’t even dare ask if it was an elective or a mandatory subject.

Deciding to just go with it, he forced on a smile (his eyebrows still high on his forehead as half of his brain tried to figure out what that course even dealt with) and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Go get them, tiger.”

You laughed at his expression and nodded, feeling a little better already. You turned to head into class, but turned on your heel at the last moment, catching his eyes. He raised a single brow in question and you asked, “Can we go out to eat after this?”

He frowned, eyes saddening. “I wish I could. I have work in an hour. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

However, he could never stand the look of disappointment that grazed your face every once in a while. And when it made an appearance once again, he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. “But,” he started and you seemed to lighten up already, “you could come to the café and hang out with me there. My treat,” he promised before pointing an accusatory finger at you, “but only if you ace that presentation.”

“I… I can do that,” you nodded, more to convince yourself than him. “Yeah. I can definitely do that.”

Jihoon spent the next two hours panicking on your behalf.

Even as he took orders and made cup after cup after cup of coffee, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t help but feel like he could’ve done more to boost your confidence. Hell, who wants to hear they were ‘endearing’ during a presentation they felt like they messed up on?

When the third hour of waiting began, he was half-sure you wouldn’t come to the café. Perhaps you had failed miserably or maybe you really did have a heart attack in front of the classroom. Jihoon was on the verge of spiralling.

“Okay, you’re going to burn your hand at this rate,” Seokmin scolded before ushering him away from the espresso machine. “Just man the register. I’ll deal with the coffee. God, what’s up with you today?”

Jihoon let out a soft whine of protest but followed the orders, waddling over to the register. It was a slow day and he was still messing up – what were you doing to him?

“So?” Seokmin asked again after delivering a customer’s flat white.

“What?” Jihoon was barely even paying attention to the fact that he was being spoken to. His eyes were constantly stuck on the door.

Any moment now. Any moment you’d walk in, a smile on your face, telling him you passed. Any moment.

Seokmin raised a brow. “What’s bothering you? Seriously, you’re not usually this aloof. Why are you staring at the door?”

“(Y/n)” was all Jihoon managed to mumble.

But it was enough for his friend. Seokmin laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

“What if she isn’t?” Jihoon whispered, still stuck in a dazed mix of anxiety and hope. “What if I messed up?”

Before Seokmin could even begin to comfort him, Jihoon felt like he could breathe again. There you were, practically running towards the café in your rush to get to him. He didn’t even realise he was leaning further and further towards the door, leaning against the countertop under Seokmin’s amused eyes.

“Jihoon!” you called out once you made it to the café, dashing up the counter to pull his face to yours and press your lips against his. After pulling away again, you smiled brightly. “Guess what?”

He forgot all the vocabulary he had acquired over his life. Your name was the closest thing to a word in there. He was just glad to see you again.

You rolled your eyes at his silence but still laughed. “Jihoon, I told you to guess.”

He cleared his throat and prayed his ears weren’t too red before he found his voice. “You passed?”

“I passed,” you confirmed with an excited fist pump in the air, “and the professor said I had the best presentation in the whole course.”

“Whoa, go, girl!” Seokmin cheered, bumping his fist against yours in celebration.

Jihoon matched your bright smiles and told you, “I knew you could do it. Come on, pick what you want to eat. My treat.”

As you excitedly went to check out the cake options, Seokmin stared at him in awe. Jihoon shrugged. “What?”

“How come you never treat me?” his friend sounded almost offended.

“You never asked.”

Seokmin frowned and turned to you. “Did you ask him to treat you?”

“Nope.”

He turned to glare at Jihoon again. “Favouritism. Clear favouritism. I’ll remember this.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Jihoon argued with a puzzled frown of his own.

[W.JH.: tie her shoelaces]

Walks in the park or even just around the campus became a routine for the two of you very quickly. More often than not, your shared study sessions in the library would lead to a shared knowing look, standing up in silence, and heading out the door for a break. Always hand-in-hand, like puzzle pieces.

The weather was windier than usual that day, blowing dead leaves and hats around the park grounds. Who knows how long it would be before snow would join the items flying in the wind – the temperature of the air certainly suggested it would happen soon.

Jihoon barely managed to catch your scarf before it fell victim to the wind.

“Maybe not the best day for a walk,” he concluded with a sheepish laugh while wrapping the scarf around your neck a little tighter than before, making sure it wouldn’t fly again.

You laughed along. “Yeah, maybe we should’ve gone to the café instead.”

He sighed deeply – as a joke – before narrowing his eyes at you. “Just say you’re dating me for café discounts. Admit it.”

“Well,” you hummed, “your staff discounts are definitely a bonus.”

He chuckled and nudged your side. “Do you want to go to the café then? Maybe some cocoa could warm you up.”

“But some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not,” you repeated his own words back to him with a mischievous smile.

“Is that–?” His jaw dropped. “How do you even remember that?”

“It was a very memorable quote by my favourite author,” you joked and pinched his cheek before grabbing his hand to lead him to the café.

You barely made it two steps before he was tugging you to a stop, his gaze lowered. You blinked. “Did something happen?”

He didn’t reply. A message from Junhui flashed in his mind. Was he allowed to follow his advice like that? And if so, what was the best way to go about it? Crouching down? Leading you to a bench and making you lift your foot? Fully kneeling in front of you like the simp he was?

Ears burning under your questioning stare, he finally leaned down onto one knee, his fingers reaching for your shoelaces.

Your heart skipped a beat as realisation hit.

With what you could only assume was practised grace (because who knows how many times he had repeated this exact gesture for his friends – Soonyoung alone must have accounted for at least twenty), he gently pulled your foot closer to himself and gently double-knotted the laces. He decided to re-do the other shoe as well if he was already on task.

Once both shoes were undoubtedly tied and unable to come undone without permission again, he hummed in approval and stood back up, brushing the dirt off his knee before his gaze lifted to meet yours. He offered a sheepish smile at the dazed look on your face.

“Why?” he laughed.

“You’re seriously–” you began but never finished, reaching for his hand instead.

[K.MG.: give her a nickname]

Jihoon wasn’t very fond of nicknames. He wasn’t like Jeonghan who could come up with a new dumb nickname for every person he met or like Soonyoung who could react to any nickname thrown his way. Jihoon was just Jihoon and his friends were just his friends – no nicknames needed.

So, when he read Mingyu’s message, he froze. A nickname for his girlfriend? It felt like such an enormous task.

Stuck in an endless loop of processing even weeks after, Jihoon still couldn’t come up with a nickname that felt like you. Nothing sounded quite as pretty or as melodious as your name. Nothing came even close in his mind. When he thought of you, it was always just (Y/n).

And it wasn’t like you had given him a nickname either. He would’ve noticed if you had – he noticed everything you did.

If anyone saw into his brain, they would’ve seen a suspicious number of facts and quirks of yours. They would’ve thought he was a spy trying to steal your identity. But he was nothing of the sort. The only thing he aimed to steal was your heart (and maybe a kiss, or two, or two hundred).

Frankly, Vernon was sick of the sound of Jihoon’s pen rolling back and forth, struggling between gravity and Jihoon’s strength, on the slanted desk of their shared room. If having to contemplate cheesy pet names with a distraught Jihoon was the answer, Vernon was willing to sacrifice a bit of his sanity for a different background audio.

“Maybe see if a pet name would work,” he suggested upon seeing his misery.

Jihoon blinked. “Pet name? Like Fluffy?”

“No, like–” Vernon’s brows furrowed. “Dude, are you okay? Should I call a doctor?”

Jihoon only groaned and slumped over his desk, fully resting his cheek against it now.

“I meant nicknames like babe and sweetheart and the sort,” his roommate explained, brows still set in a concerned frown. “Why would you call her Fluffy?”

“At this rate, I might as well.”

Vernon was scandalised. “Call her Fluffy?!”

Jihoon sat up straight to frown at Vernon. “No, see if I find a pet name I like for her. What is wrong with you?”

“You started it!”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So, what do you have to offer?”

“Let’s start with the basics,” Vernon suggested, leaning back on his bed happily now that the pen was no longer obnoxiously rolling. “Babe?”

“Gross.”

“Baby?”

“Even worse.”

“Sweetheart.”

Jihoon hesitated. “I– Maybe? Let’s put that under maybe.”

“Great! That’s progress,” Vernon cheered with a smile before resuming his position. “Then, what about dear?”

“Sounds so old-fashioned. I don’t want to sound like an English grandma whenever I call for my girlfriend.”

Vernon froze before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you definitely have a point there.”

They were both tired of the guessing game by the time fifteen minutes passed. They bid each other farewell and headed their separate ways. It was only noon.

The solution? Non-existent. Jihoon still didn’t know what to call you.

And to add to his problems, he soon realised he hadn’t heard from you all day. Your chat was no more full than the previous evening, his call history was even worse off. He hadn’t even seen you on campus.

Worry got the worst of him and now he was taking the first step instead of you. His worry won over his hesitation and he called you, lifting his phone to his ear all the while glancing around campus anxiously.

You didn’t pick up the first call. Nor the second. Before pressing on the screen to call a third time, he silently swore he’d run through all of your usual spots if you left him hanging like this. Heck, he might even call the police.

“Jihoon?” he then heard your voice through the phone and a stone fell off his heart.

He sighed in relief. “(Y/n), are you okay? I was worried.”

“Dorm,” you whispered meekly into the mic, elaborating no further no matter how much he prompted you.

His frown only grew with every passing moment of silence on your part. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Please,” you whispered once again and then he heard the most heart-breaking sound: a soft sob. You were crying.

He cursed under his breath. You were crying and he wasn’t there. “Hold on a little longer, I’ll be there.”

He wasted not a second more and sprinted to your dormitory. With his hands shaking from both worry and exhaustion, it took him two tries to get the door code right, but once the door clicked open, he dashed up the stairs and to your room.

The door of your room was unlocked and ajar when he arrived and he just about fell through it in an attempt to lean against it for a quick breath. He stumbled into your room and his heart dropped some more, so close to shattering.

“(Y/n), darling,” he whispered before practically throwing himself into the spot next to you, already pulling you into his embrace, “what happened?”

You didn’t say anything, quietly crying into his sweater instead. Jihoon almost wanted to cry with you. “Talk to me. What happened? What can I do to make it better?”

“I fought with my roommate,” you whispered eventually. “I might have to move out.”

“Move out?” he wondered. “Was it that bad?” You didn’t answer, only letting out another soft sob as you further burrowed into his arms. He sighed. “Oh, darling.”

You remained in his arms for a while, stuck between crying over a lost friendship and relishing in his comfort. “I thought she was my friend. God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he protested immediately, perhaps even a little too forcefully for your fragile emotional state. He sighed once again, deeper, before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Do you want me to help you find a new place to stay?”

“I could just ask to be assigned to a different dorm,” you mumbled. “It’s no big deal.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to get your own apartment though?”

“I mean… It would be nice.”

“I can help you pay the deposit,” he offered. He wasn’t sure if he was always this kind or if seeing you so broken made him overcompensate more than usual – come to think of it: there was clearly a pattern forming.

Either way – he mentally ran over the numbers in his bank account –, he could afford to help.

You sighed. “You don’t have to, Jihoon, it’s fine–”

“Don’t argue with me,” he warned half-jokingly. “Do you want to get your own place or not?”

Still leaning into his chest, you looked up at him. “You’d– You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he shrugged as if he had only offered you a candy bar. “Besides, if you get your own place, I benefit too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Vernon not letting you sleep in again?”

“I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so bad,” he whispered while squeezing his eyes shut. “And he’s so messy. I need a break every once in a while.”

“So, your only condition is that I let you sleep over?” you chuckled and kissed his cheek which promptly turned red. “Why not just move in with me then?”

He blushed harder. “I think it’s too early for that. Maybe in a few months.”

You pouted at that. “You’re so mean. I was so ready to celebrate moving in with my boyfriend. Tsk.”

“Give me a few months,” he whispered – promised. “I’ll be with you in just a few months, darling.”

[J. WW.: take her on a picnic in the park during your free period. i hear the cherry trees are blossoming.]

Sandwiches, cake from the café, a thermos full of your favourite tea, a blanket – was anything missing? Well, other than his courage, because he had been staring at the basket for at least half an hour now as if his feet were nailed to the kitchen floor.

Even Vernon, as patient as he was, had begun to contemplate how to unglue Jihoon so he could freely access the fridge again.

“Dude,” he finally sighed, “can you move? I’m hungry.”

“There’s food on the stove,” Jihoon mumbled off-handedly, still in a panicked daze. Vernon glanced towards the stove and found nothing on it.

Why was he so panicked anyway? It was one thing to hesitate before kissing you, but this? This was worse. He was paralysed by fear and he didn’t even understand why.

It’s not like this was your first date.

“Have you never taken a girl out on a date before?” Vernon wondered, brows furrowing as he attempted to make sure his roommate hadn’t been replaced by a faulty android or a hologram.

And just as the words left Vernon’s mouth, Jihoon seemed to wake up. His eyes widened. “I’ve never taken a girl out on a date before.”

Vernon blinked. “You’ve been dating her since, like, fall.”

“Yeah, but she initiated everything,” Jihoon whined, suddenly hyper aware of the way his knees felt like jelly and his hands trembled.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“First date?”

“She took me to the movies.”

“First kiss?”

“She went in first.”

“Who asked the other one out?”

“She asked me.” Jihoon let out another whine. “God, I’m so bad at this whole boyfriend thing. Isn’t there, like, a manual or something?”

“If there is, you’d probably be better off,” Vernon pointed out with a chuckle. “Dude, if she’s stuck with you this long, then she’s not going to break up with you over you taking her on a picnic.”

“But what if she’s actually busy or it rains or–”

“What’s with you and all those what-ifs? Just get out there, take her hand and have a picnic.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Jihoon whispered and hung his head in shame.

“Because it is that easy.”

It was not, in fact, that easy. Jihoon tripped almost three times just on the way to meet you at the park – that’s how nervous he was. And it’s not like he was afraid of you or your reaction.

He just wanted everything to be perfect. Because you were perfect. And if he couldn’t be perfect with or for you, what was even the point?

Still, even as his nerves threatened to make him throw up in a nearby garbage can, he braved through the anxiety and made his way over to you. He forced on a smile as he approached you, but it soon melted into a genuine one upon seeing your excited grin.

“Hi, darling,” he whispered before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

“It’s barely afternoon,” you joked. Jihoon grimaced: first strike. Two more and he’d pay someone to throw him off a bridge. (He noted that Seungcheol or Joshua seemed like a good choice for that.)

“So,” you rubbed your palms together after helping him set the blanket on the ground, “what are we eating?”

He breathed out shakily before opening the basket. “So… there’s sandwiches – I didn’t know which ones you’d like more so I made a bunch of everything, but if you don’t like any, I’ll run to the store and–”

“Jihoon,” you stopped him with a stern smile and a pat on his cheek – strike two –, “baby, stop acting like it’s the first time we’ve interacted. There’s no need to be shy with me. I love you regardless.”

“I’m sorry, I just–”

“Stop apologising.” Strike three – might as well decide on a bridge now.

“I just want everything to be perfect for you,” he admitted with a sad smile, “but I guess I get too in my own head about it and then–”

You leaned forward and kissed him before he could go any further. When you leaned back, his eyes were wide in disbelief.

“You– Why did you do that?”

“You were rambling too much.” You smiled at him again, sweeter this time, before kissing him once more. “Everything is perfect already. This picnic is perfect. The weather is perfect. This moment is perfect. You’re perfect. Don’t worry so much. Just breathe and enjoy.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours once again: a gift because you always knew exactly what to say.

“So,” your smile never seemed to fade, “can you stop worrying about everything now?”

He breathed out a defeated sigh and nodded, earning a cheer from you.

As the two of you began eating, he made conversation, “So, how’s your apartment search going?”

You shrugged. “I’ve found two places. I’m going to see the second one tomorrow, but the first one is very nice. Like, way too nice for that price.”

“And that’s bad somehow?” He laughed.

“It’s way below market rate. It’s too good to be true,” you told him with a soft sigh, closing your eyes as he mindlessly reached to play with your fingers. “I wonder what the quirk is. Like, why is it so cheap? The landlord seemed like a sweet woman and all, but there’s bound to be something weird about that place, right?”

“Maybe it’s haunted,” he joked, making a ‘scary’ face as he stared at you, only to prompt a laugh.

“Will you come and save me if it is?”

He grimaced. “Hell no. Ghosts are scary business. You’d have to find a different boyfriend.”

“Fine, fine,” you laughed and patted his cheek, “leave all the saving to me instead, then. I’ll protect you.”

“My hero,” he swooned, a hand over his heart.

You stared at the ceiling of your new bedroom, practically vibrating with anxiety about the day to come as well as the added responsibilities of adulting outside of a dorm.

Jihoon, having agreed to stay a few nights for mental support (and a Marvel movie marathon), gave you a weird look.

“Sorry,” you apologised and willed your body to stay still, sure you had annoyed your boyfriend into leaving, “I guess I’m just more nervous about tomorrow than I thought.”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” he chuckled and leaned over to brush a stray hair off your forehead. “It’s just a seminar. You’ve been to those before.”

“Yeah, but this one’s in a foreign language,” you whined and rolled over to hide your face in his chest. “You know my French sucks.”

He scoffed but was thoroughly amused. “I’ve never even heard you speak French.”

“Exactly. Point proven. Now let me suffer in peace.”

Jihoon sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your head. “Is there any way I can help you feel better?”

You shook your head ‘no’ and burrowed further into the comforting darkness his sweater provided. You had no interest in being comforted – what you needed was to go to sleep before 3 am and not wake up with nightmares. Unfortunately, Jihoon couldn’t do that for you, as amazing as he was.

He was just as stumped, but less in the mood to give up. In fact, he was rarely in the mood to give up.

Still feeling you shaking in his arms, he reached his free hand to get his phone and text the group chat once again, begging for help as he had done so many times before. The help came faster than ever before, as if his friends had a shared 7th sense for Jihoon’s girlfriend troubles.

[C.VN.: bro, arent u good at singing? have u sung to her?]

[but… what do i sing?]

[K.SY.: a song.]

[whaT SONG?]

[X.MH.: you’re literally a music major, i’m sure you can think of a song or two??]

[i’m a uni student, not a jukebox??]

With sleep still unwilling to claim you, you sighed deeply. There was no room to further burrow into your boyfriend’s comforting embrace. An idea hit: maybe a cup of nice peppermint tea could calm you down.

“Ji, can we go make–” you quietly began but were interrupted by a soft rumbling of his chest. And then you heard it: he was humming. You lifted your head to watch him, unable to tear your eyes from the way his lips oh-so-gracefully parted to sing to you, even as he was still searching for the lyrics on his phone.

Suddenly realising you had said something, he paused, eyes widening as he looked at you. “Sorry, did you say something?”

You shook your head no and continued staring at him.

Awkward under you gaze, his ears flushed red. He avoided your eyes and turned back to his phone, scrolling through it as a distraction: ads had never looked so interesting before.

“Keep singing,” you whispered to him, hoping he’d hear your plea and fulfil your wish.

He took a deep breath, his hand freezing on the tiny screen. And just as you had hoped, his lips parted again. This time, he really sang, lyrics and all. His voice carried through your room, echoing back from the yet-to-be-decorated walls and filling the space in a comforting manner.

As you listened to him, you realised he had never sung to you before. He had hidden this part of himself for so long. And yet you were already enamoured with it.

When he finished one song, his lips pursed back together and he hummed a mysterious melody that you could only suspect he had come up with on the spot to fill the silence. Then he began a second song, then a third.

By the fifth song, you were blissfully unaware of your daily troubles and the seminar waiting for you at 10 am. You were deep asleep in his arms, feeling the safest you ever had.

Upon realising you had finally succumbed to the call of dreamland, Jihoon chuckled and locked his phone. His newly free hand reached to stroke your cheek.

“Little Miss Can’t Fall Asleep falls asleep a lot easier than she claims,” he joked to noone in particular and craned his neck to press another kiss to your temple before settling back down and closing his own eyes.

[S.SC.: go shopping with her. i’m sure she needs some things for her new place. she might appreciate the company.]

“I still don’t understand how you don’t have a car,” you started up the topic for the third time this hour.

Jihoon had never considered you annoying before – not even to the mildest extent – but he was slowly starting to get annoyed. He sighed. “Getting a licence seems like such a hassle.”

“It’s freeing,” you argued, amused by your new-found ability to annoy him even the tiniest bit. “You don’t depend on public transportation or your friends anymore. It’s great.”

“I can get everywhere on foot just fine.” He rolled his eyes and lifted a hand to cover your mouth as you began to speak again. “Didn’t you say you needed new towels? I’m pretty sure we walked straight past those.”

Unable to form proper words under the weight of his hand, you just hummed and let him lead you back to the towel aisle. It was only once you were there that he removed his hand again, wiping it against his hoodie. “Why do you need new towels anyway? It’s not like the ones you’ve used so far are contaminated.”

“It’s the principle, Jihoon,” you told him while scanning through the options. “New place, new me – that type of deal.”

“Sounds like a trick of capitalism,” he joked and leaned his torso forward against the shopping cart you had already half-filled with baskets, blankets, cushions and pillows of all shapes and sizes.

You turned to glare at him. “Are you my boyfriend or my financial advisor?”

“Both, if you pay me well enough.”

“Whatever. What colour towels should I get?”

He shrugged. “I’m a big fan of the colour black.”

You sighed. “That’s so boring. How about blue?”

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I could be persuaded.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” you sang and picked up two of the larger fluffy blue towels – one lighter and the other darker in shade. You barely managed to fit them in the cart before your eyes lit up with a new quest in sight. “Oh, we need slippers too.”

He only hummed and swiftly (or as swiftly as one can move a shopping cart that clearly has never been maintained in the 10 years it's been in use) manoeuvred the cart to follow after you. Once he finally found you in the footwear aisle, he was confronted by two pairs of slippers – one black, the other baby pink – in his face. He tilted his head to offer you a confused look.

Without any malice behind it, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Pick a colour.”

“Black.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I know you’re waiting for me to tell you ‘pink’ and I’m not giving you nor Mingyu that satisfaction,” he countered before nodding towards his colour of choice again. “Black.”

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat and placed the pink ones back, only to pick up a different size of the same colour and place it in the cart.

His eyebrows rose. “What are you–?”

“What size slippers do you wear?”

“Me?” He frowned. “Why would my opinion on any of this matter? It’s your apartment. Why are you making me choose the colour of the towels and the shower curtain and the–”

He fell silent, his mouth still ajar in wordless awe as the realisation hit. You tried your hardest to act cool under his disbelieving stare.

“I– I’m not moving in with you,” he whispered, his eyes softening as he reached for your arm as if to comfort you. “We talked about this. I still need some time.”

“I’m not asking you to move in yet,” you laughed sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. “I just thought it would be nice if you could visit without worrying about bringing your things. You’re my boyfriend. I just want you to be comfortable when you come over to stay the night or when you don’t feel like going back to your and Vernon’s place after a long day and–”

Your words faded to the background as he continued staring at you. He was so used to being the one full of hesitation, overthinking his actions, trying to act nonchalant when he finally committed. Seeing you do the same? His heart grew two sizes larger and suddenly he couldn’t contain himself.

Without thinking about it, he pulled you into a hug, effectively silencing your doubts and rambled justifications just like you had done for him so many times before.

“You should’ve just said so, silly,” he laughed and held you even tighter.

[C.VN.: u know, i heard study dates are popular with the girls]

[you’re just trying to get me out of the dorm, aren't you?]

[C.VN.: u cant prove anything]

Sitting across from him in the living room, you watched in silence as Jihoon tapped away at his keyboard. His fingers seemed to fly across the keys at the speed of light, typing out a word and then deleting it. He did so a thousand times before huffing out a sigh and leaning his head back to glare at the ceiling.

“Have you tried taking a break?” you asked him softly, wanting not to scare or irritate him.

His head lolled back to a normal position and he offered an unamused raise of his brows. “Have you seen me take any breaks?”

You grimaced. “Then maybe it’s time to take a break now.”

“Sorry, darling,” he sighed and shook his head, “I need this essay finished by midnight. I’ve been putting this off for too long as it is.”

You glanced at the clock. “Midnight’s still 10 hours away though. You have time to take a break.”

He rolled his eyes and glared at his laptop screen. A blank page with only the title ‘Western Philosophy 101 Final Essay’ mocked him. “A break from what? I haven’t even done anything.”

“You’ve been thinking hard.”

“Darling, I don’t think you understand how essay-writing works. There’s no use in thinking if no writing comes out of it.”

You reached over to take his hands off the keyboard. His fingers instinctively wrapped around yours, squeezing them just enough to comfort the both of you. “Writing will come out of it if you just relax and just take a break, I promise.”

Jihoon wanted to argue, he really did. But then he looked up from the screen and into your eyes, tempting him to just agree. And while he wasn’t one to give up easily, he was definitely someone who wanted fulfil every wish his loved-ones ever made.

And so, he gave up this time. Defeated, he slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Alright, what do you have in mind?”

“How long do you have?” you asked, feeling mischievous all of a sudden.

He glanced at his watch before shrugging. “An hour, maybe.”

That was all you needed to pull him towards yourself by the hands. He stumbled a little, just about falling into your lap with a whine of protest before settling exactly where he landed, too tired to care further. His eyes fell closed the moment he felt your warmth against himself.

Without even thinking about it, you reached down to play with his hair. The silky strands ran through your fingers with ease and Jihoon could only hum in appreciation at the gesture. While this wasn’t the cuddle position you had had in mind, you couldn’t say no to the rare chance to dote on your otherwise independent boyfriend.

“This is nice,” he sighed softly and nuzzled his face against your belly, happy to hide from his horrible philosophy final. He lazily opened one eye to look at you, admiring you with the same love as you did him. “We should do this more often.”

“I would love to,” you told him with a sweet laugh and he was glad that he was lying down because his knees felt a little weak all of a sudden. “See, I told you you needed a break.”

He hummed in agreement, closing his eye again. “I feel like I might fall asleep though. And then who will finish my essay? You?”

“How about I just wake you up in, like, 40 minutes instead?” you offered.

With a cheerful giggle, he hid his face further into the fabric of your shirt. His voice sounded muffled as he spoke, “You don’t like philosophy either?”

“Cried my way all the way through the midterms and swore to never take anything philosophy-related again.”

“That’s good. I should do that,” he slurred his words and before long, all you heard were his soft snores.

Jihoon liked to think he wasn’t particularly clingy. He didn’t need constant assurance from his friends that he was still loved and wanted – he knew they liked and wanted him around. He knew that you liked and wanted him around.

But when your near-hourly updates about the randomest things you had seen and done were replaced by radio silence, Jihoon grew more and more anxious. Though he knew it was silly to think so, he couldn’t help but worry he had annoyed you into leaving him.

Throughout the day, he kept glancing at his phone. Even just a single message – heck, even an emoji – would make his day infinitely better. When he wasn’t staring at his phone, begging for any notification with your name on it, he was looking at the people around him in the hopes of seeing your familiar face among them.

The day went by without as much as a sign from you.

He felt silly. He felt dumb. He felt like he was going to cry very real tears if you didn’t respond to his text before midnight.

He let out a loud sigh of relief when your nickname finally popped up on his screen. The tears gathered in his eyes dissipated slowly as he shakily unlocked the phone and tapped on your newest message.

[darling ♡: oh my god. i’m sorry for not answergi !! so sorry!!!]

Jihoon blinked away the remnants of his anxious tears and smiled at the sight of your words. You hadn’t left him just yet. He still had a girlfriend who cared for him.

[it’s okay. did something happen?]

[darling ♡: yeah hahah funny story actually…]

[darling ♡: i think i caught something and i’ve been trying to sleep it off haha]

And just like that, his anxiety was back. Jihoon straightened in his seat, one hand still typing while the other blindly searched for his jacket.

[youre sick?,??m???]

[darling ♡: a little bit…]

[i’m coming over-]

Before you could send a message of protest, he shrugged his jacket on and headed out the door. Even though he realistically knew that he wouldn’t be much help and would just end up sick himself, he couldn’t just let you suffer all alone.

As he practically galloped down the stairs from his 3rd floor dorm, he texted the group chat for help and assurance.

[L.SM.: she’s sick?! make her dinner! what’s her favourite soup??]

Jihoon paused mid-step. What was your favourite soup?

He arrived at your apartment just ten minutes later, a bag in hand. You greeted him at the door, bags under your eyes, skin dull and lips dry. Jihoon couldn’t help but pout at the sight.

“What happened to you?” he asked, reaching up to brush his thumb across the cracked skin of your lips. “Have you been drinking water at all?”

“The fridge is too far from the bed,” you told him with a defeated sigh before practically melting into his embrace. “I told you not to come.”

He scoffed out a laugh and began rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie. “Well, I’m here anyway. And I’m making you food. How does tomato soup sound?”

“Like you don’t know how to make chicken soup,” you answered with a suspicious squint of your eyes.

He laughed at that, ears turning red at the way you had caught onto his scheme. “Alright, I think you should go back to resting.”

“You should go to sleep too,” you argued. “It’s past midnight already and you have classes tomorrow.”

“I can skip a day.” He said it with such ease and carelessness that you couldn’t help but wonder who this man was because your boyfriend hadn’t skipped any classes in the entire time you had been together.

Still, you were too tired to care. Soup sounded better than sleeping on an empty stomach for another 12 hours.

“Can I at least help you cook?” you practically begged, hanging onto his arm as he began preparing in the kitchen.

A little taken aback by your affection, he laughed nervously. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I think I’m starting to feel better actually,” you half-joked, watching with starry eyes as he expertly washed and then chopped the tomatoes. “Seeing you has recharged me with energy.”

“Yeah?” He hummed in thought before offering you a mischievous smile. “Then do you have enough energy to go and rest a little?”

Your face dropped. “Why can’t you just accept my love?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you’re feverish and standing up for long won’t do you any good, darling,” he whispered before pressing a swift kiss to your cheek and returning to his task. “So, go rest on the sofa. I can go get your laptop so you can watch something, if you want.”

“But what if I want to cuddle?”

“Cuddle a pillow.”

“You’re cruel.”

He rolled his eyes at your dramatic antics. Clearly the fever was affecting you worse than he had feared. “When I literally ran across the district to come here and make you soup at midnight?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Fine, you can stay,” he paused and gave a warning glare, even if it looked far less threatening with the smile playing on his lips, “for now.”

You let out a soft cheer and cuddled back into his side, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he made you soup. You marvelled at the graceful movements of his hands. You couldn’t help but wonder how many of his friends he had made food for. For now you were just glad to be one of them.

“I hope I recover fast,” you whispered. “Or maybe I should just stay sick forever.”

“Why?”

“I have a stupid presentation next week. I haven’t even started reading to prepare for it.” You buried your face into the fabric of his hoodie. He took a moment to press his cheek against your head in an act of assurance. You sighed and mumbled a final, “Stupid finals.”

He laughed at that. “I’ll get you some medicine tomorrow so you can recover fast.”

With a groan, you straightened up a little again to side-eye him. “Can’t you just leave me here to suffer? Or help me fake my death? What kind of a boyfriend are you?”

“The kind that wants his girlfriend to be healthy for our end-of-the-semester date night,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His confidence really made you wonder if you had forgotten about this clearly existing tradition between the two of you. But no, you were pretty sure he had just made this up. Or perhaps you were too loopy from paracetamol to remember.

Either way, you let yourself get carried away into a fantasy of sharing a date night with only your boyfriend and no university stress. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

The end of the semester came faster than Jihoon or any of his friends would have liked. It snuck up on them between the despair and sleepless nights of the exam session. And he could not have been happier about it.

Once he had submitted the final essay of the semester – the very last graded project he’d have to submit before a well-deserved break –, he slammed his laptop shut and looked at you, still hunched over your laptop on the bed, re-reading the last paragraphs of your own essay.

“Hold on,” you told him upon feeling his eyes on yourself, “I’m almost done.”

“No rush,” he replied with a sweet smile before letting out a soft giggle of relief and falling back onto your mattress, his arms spread out as if to soak in the freedom.

As if the sight of your boyfriend basking in the glow of no more exams had motivated you to finish sooner than you planned, you hurriedly rushed to upload your final assignment. A green check mark appeared on the screen to indicate that you could finally join your boyfriend.

With a loud cheer, you closed your own laptop and crawled over to where your boyfriend was lying. Immediately you burrowed into his side and sighed happily. “This semester sucked.”

“You can say that again,” he agreed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders like he had done so many times before. “But at least it’s over now.”

You hated to be the wet blanket but… “Unless one of us fails.”

He groaned and used the same arm to roll you away from him. “I hate you. Go away.”

You laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in distaste as if he had swallowed bitter medicine. “I’m just saying. We’re not safe yet.”

“We’re safe enough,” he declared and waved your negative thoughts away. “God, I hate you, now you’re making me anxious.”

“You don’t actually hate me,” you sang and rolled back over to him, settling right on top of him, your nose against his own. “In fact, you like me.”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasped and sat up, resting your hand on his chest as you leaned upright to glared at him. “Unfortunately?!”

He laughed at your theatrics, giggling with his whole body, shaking so hard in the process that you lost your balance and fell back right on top of him. His arm came to rest around your shoulders again. Once he was out of giggles, he continued smiling and caressed your cheek. “You’re so freaking cute. It’s unfair.”

“Take back that ‘unfortunately’ and I might get even cuter,” you told him, a suspicious glare set on him.

His smile never faded as he leaned up just a little, resting his entire body weight on one arm just to press his lips to yours. “I take the word back.”

“Good,” you decided and joined in his laughter before kissing him again, “because I kind of love you, actually.”

He froze. His eyes widened just a fraction, his lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise.

He stayed like that for long enough to make you worry you had made your move too fast. He liked to take it slow – you knew that. He had been taking it slow all this time. And now you’ve confessed and he probably thought you were ridiculous and dumb and–

“Darling…” His lips curled into a smile, his eyes turning into joyful crescents, and then he leaned in again.

His hands came to rest on your cheeks, squishing them just a little as he pulled you to his lips. He kissed you again and again and again.

He kissed you until you were dumb. He didn’t stop kissing you until you were sure you couldn’t form a single word that wasn’t his name.

Then, eventually, with both of your lips swollen and eyes dazed, he leaned back and nuzzled his nose against your own. “I love you so, darling, I really do.”

It took you a moment to understand what he was saying. He had kissed you so dumb that you could’ve sworn he was speaking in another language. But finally, your brain caught up with the situation and a smile appeared on your face, bright and proud and full of adoration for your boyfriend.

“You should kiss me like that more often,” you told him, teasing, trying to see what he’d do.

He replied with a playful roll of his eyes and another kiss, a single one but much longer than the last twenty.

“I love you,” you whispered again against his lips.

His smile only seemed to brighten even more at that. “I love you too.”

But as he was about to go in for another kiss, a loud vibration sounded from somewhere in the sheets. The two of you glanced around as the vibrations continued, breaking you from the romantic daze.

“Is someone calling you?” he wondered.

“My phone’s been on silent since the dawn of time, babe,” you told him easily and helped him look for his phone. “It must be yours.”

Just when you said those words, the vibrations abruptly stopped. And then another vibration came, short and gentle this time.

You found his phone under the pillows, Soonyoung’s contact name appearing alongside the missed call symbol and a minimised text message on the screen.

“It’s your tiger friend,” you told Jihoon and turned to hand the phone to him when the phone vibrated again with a new message coming in.

It wasn’t your fault that the whole screen flashed to life with the message – what were you supposed to do? Not read it?

[K.SY.: oh, nonie said u’re with y/n?]

And then another message arrived before he could take the phone from your hands.

[K.SY.: have u told her u love her yet ??!?!!]

[K.SY.: the chat is rootin for u!!!! u’ve been good at following our advice this far. u’ve got this!!]

A mischievous smile appeared on your face as you read the message. Jihoon didn’t realise what made you react this way until he took his phone and read the message minimised on his lockscreen. He groaned as the realisation hit.

“Don’t start–”

“You told your friends that you loved me,” you beat him to it, reaching over to squish his cheeks and kiss his nose. “And you asked them for advice? You’re so goddamn cute.”

His ears got progressively more red with every word. He quickly swiped the messages off his screen and threw his phone as far away as he could without potentially breaking it. “It wasn’t like that–”

“I’m just teasing, baby,” you laughed and pulled him into a comforting hug. Poor man was mortified. “I do have to ask though: what kind of advice did you get from them?”

“Well,” he hesitated as you looked at him expectantly, “I wanted to be a good boyfriend, so… I asked them how to be a better boyfriend…”

You pressed your lips to his. “You’re a good boyfriend, Jihoon, I promise. You’re the best, actually.”

“I had to ask my friends for help just to get the courage to initiate a kiss,” he confessed, squeezing his eyes shut as the urge to cringe and hide away under the bed overcame him. “I’m a mediocre boyfriend, at most.”

“I strongly disagree,” you told him and pulled him in for another kiss, “but we’ll work on your confidence, my love.”

♡ THE END! ♡

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt scenarios #seventeen fluff #woozi x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi fluff #lee jihoon scenarios #woozi

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fuxuannie · 1 year ago

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↳ pairing : miles morales x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : a complicated crush

↳ authors note : theres someone named 'milestokilometers' (?) thats always in my notifs whenever i post miles and i find it really funny HAHAHA an old draft (like, i wrote this the day i watched atsv), wanted to get it out of the way

The first time you encounter the spider-boy was on a particularly stressful day. You just finished texting Miles that you needed a breather and wanted to hang ontop of your apartment rooftop for a few hours, just to clear your mind.

To your surprise, it seemed like the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman coincidentally swung by your rooftop and needed a break too.

That sparked a rather.. interesting dynamic between the both of you. You were sort of taken aback on how fond Spiderman seemed of you, since he'd visit almost every other day.

For starters, hugs seemed to last far longer than they needed to when it came to you. You've seen his public appearances, how the exchange seemed to last a mere second with his fans. However with you, it lingers. It stays for almost two seconds longer and almost as if he's starved of such affection.

Secondly was the way he'd swing by at the most random and ungodly hours of the night to knock at your window and go; "I made you a playlist :)" while you just have to let him in and listen to the whole thing with him. You have no idea how he knows that you barely sleep either.

Thirdly is the way he'll always try to put a smile on your face. It'll always be your favorite thing whenever there's a silly thing going on and he looks at you to see if you saw it too, just so he'll see you laugh and laugh along with you.

And one of the more embarassing things to mention were the public appearances. You and Spiderman often went on hangouts, (he called them dates and you unintentionally friendzoned him) and even if you do your absolute best to avoid it, you'll always find paparazzi spotting the both of you. But even amidst the crowd, you can see how his attention is fixed on you. As if nothing could break his gaze if attempted.

You won't ever forget the time that Miles, your best friend and long term crush asked where you got the keychain on your bag from (which was a gift from Spiderman after he pointed at matching keychains and practically declared to everyone in the store he was buying it for you) and you answered: "Someone special to me." You noticed a bit of a glint or glow in his eyes, almost as if he was happy for you.. for some reason.

Though you did admit you found it a little strange.. your best friends sudden Q&A sessions about Spiderman, you mean.

"What do you think about Spiderman?"

"Pretty cool superhero, amiright?"

"His costume does NOT look like hes bleeding from his armpits, surely you'll agree?"

You find it odd but brush it off, at least you're done with class for the day and get to meet with the center topic of every question Miles has asked you today.

"Spiderman." Smiling as he swung onto your rooftop, he arrives on time with the same flashy landing. "(name)!" There he goes to practically tackle you into a hug, squeezing you tightly as you can see the joy in his eyes. "I know that it's only been a few minu- ahem. hours.. since we last saw each other, it's been so lonely!"

You raise a brow in amusement, chuckling a little at his antics. "Aren't you the Spiderman? I'm sure you have a lot of friends or fans who'd love to see you." You inquired but he shakes his head a little and sighs.

"Well yeah.. of course I do, but you're the one I wanna spend time with."

"..That's so unbelievably cheesy-"

"Shut up!" He demands, causing you to laugh at his almost instant embarassment. "You know, my best friend was asking so much about you.. I think he's your biggest fan." You add to the conversation, leaning against a safety fence as he chuckled. "Really? What gives you that idea?"

You huff and cross your arms. "Just.. weird questions. What I think of you, if you're cool and if your costume looked like you were bleeding out if your armpits."

"What did you answer?"

"I didn't answer any of them," You say with a huff, already feeling a headache coming in right after recalling that memory. "But I do think you're bleeding out of your armpits."

"RUDE."

It doesn't take a genius to tell he's unamused even under the mask, how his eyes looked spoke enough volumes. The iconic 'are you serious.' look was evident enough and it makes you giggle, giving him a light nudge. "I'm kiddinggg... kind of."

Spiderman chuckles and crosses his arms, looking at your fit of giggles and smiling softly under his mask. "Cute."

"I'm curious.. you talk about this friend of yours alot.. Miles, isn't it? What's he like?" He asks curiously, knowing damn well he just wants to hear what you say about him to other people. Was this the best way to do it? Not exactly, but curiosity kills the cat.. or whatever the saying is.

"Did I not tell you about him? Well.. he's a bit of a clutz.. rather clumsy at times, usually bumping into me or something.."

Miles was going to pretend he doesn't know the reason he does that is to just be able to be super close to you.

"Sometimes he's a little bit reckless, usually a very messy guy and leaves a mess whenever he goes over to my house.. However, despite all of that.. I really really like him."

What.

"You like m- Miles ???"

He watches you smile fondly at the sky. "Yeah. A lot."

If only you could see the face he's making under that mask, a mix of fluster and absolute joy at those words. You actually liked him. "Well.. what stops you from telling him?" Miles inquired, watching you sigh and bury your head into your hands. "And what? Get badly rejected and lose my best friend? Nah man.. I can't lose him, not like that."

"Hey, look at me."

He places his hands on your shoulders, making you look right at him as he gives you a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to be so afraid, I don't think there's much to lose.. who knows? Maybe he feels the same."

You chuckle a little at the idea, completely clueless to how excited Miles was gonna be once he gets that text from you. "Thanks, Spiderman."

"You're welcome."

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales imagines #miles x reader

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s1qhed · 7 days ago

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My Richie Headcanons ||

Just a warning that this is incredibly indulgent, IYKYK~ Full of fluff, angst, smut… These aren’t in any particular order!

Richie promises that he’ll stop smoking every other week, and commits to it for about 3 days, boasting about “how easy it was”, and then is subsequently caught burning multiple away anxiously around the corner behind the restaurant.

He only purchased his gun after he and Tiff found out that she was pregnant with Eva. He took a few classes to learn how to responsibly handle it, but he’s never actually had to fire it. He still pretends to be hard by waving it around (like in s1e1) keeping it tucked in his waistband on occasion. (Leave it to Richie to be a cornball 🙄)

His apartment is a lot tidier than one would expect. “Everything has a home” he would explain. He needs to keep himself and his space clean or he feels like crap.

Richie has an incredibly soft spot for Sugar (and any other woman, tbh). He witnessed Carmy and Michael being mean to her often when they were kids, and he also saw his father being abusive toward his mother. As a result he is ADAMANT about being gentle with women. One time when they were teenagers Mikey called Sugar a bitch, and Richie got into a fistfight with him.

Furthering this, he’s always been a gentleman, even when he was previously sloppy and abrasive. He’s the kind of guy to open a door for you, buy your favorite snacks (remember when he offered to get Sug a sprite when he found out she was pregnant? 🥹), avoid smoking near you, and politely touch the small of your back as he passes. He saves his assholeish, tough-guy persona for other men in his life.

He would definitely talk to you in a faux sympathetic tone while he’s making you melt in his arms during sex, though.

He also can’t help but use pet names. His favorites are doll-face, sweetheart, princess…

Richie used to fall asleep at work, a lot. Standing up at the counter with his head down, sitting on a bench leaned back against the lockers… Tina and Mikey eventually started to stack shit on top of him- bread, cucumber slices. Sometimes there would be a dick drawn on his cheek. He stopped doing it after he woke up with a bra taped onto his chest and a mop on top of his head (which Mikey came up with, of course).

He refuses to take the train after he saw some cracked out guy pissing all over the floor. Carmy always bitches at him about how “that literally never happens” which Richie fires back with, “but it DID.”

He LOVESSSS movies. Whenever he has Eva for the weekend he tries to get her to watch stuff like Total Recall, Terminator, Bladerunner (not before saying “don’t tell your mother”). Eva obviously doesn’t care and they end up watching Barbie movies instead.

He is a REALLY loud drunk, duh. If you thought he was at 100 sober, you would be incorrect. He will go on rants about the stupidest shit, like how “Batman could beat any other FUCKING superhero if he had enough time to prepare, dipshit!”

Sometimes he, Tina, and Ebraheim will go out for drinks together after work. He sometimes orders a girly (“frou-frou” as Ebra calls it) cocktail. They all keep his secret though.

He’s a very handsy person. Hands on the small of his woman’s back, shoulder pats, hand holds and bear hugs, thigh squeezes when you’re sat beside him. Physical touch is his love language. He would absolutely touch your leg with a single toe from the opposite side of the room while you two spent quiet time together.

He remembers everything. It’s what makes him such an incredible server, but sometimes it’s to an annoying degree. He would whine about how “we haven’t watched a movie together in 10 days” and he would argue that “it has definitely been 10 days because I remember that we watched ___ on ___ which was 10 days ago—“

(This one’s gonna hurt) Richie visits Mikey’s grave, often. Once a week, sometimes more. He occasionally will leave a cigarette for him, sometimes he’ll talk to him, sometimes he won’t. Richie typically can’t even pass the part of town where Mikey died, or where he now rests, without becoming incredibly upset.

#richie jerimovich #the Bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #mikey berzatto #the Bear headcanons #do I need more tags?

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movedtolilmouzee · 2 years ago

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Hello! I hope your doing well, and uh I'd like to request on how bonten would react to an s/o who has like a TON of plushies? Like there are plushies on the bed, shelves, desks and all. You don't have to do all of them tho

Take care!

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔯 ℌ𝔞𝔱𝔢?...

Mikey wouldn't even be fazed by them, honestly he won't even notice them. Mikey would be more surprised about how much time you've spent on collecting them, he can't really get behind the entire idea of spending so much effort on something, he doesn't mind it just as long as it makes you happy. Mikey is honestly used to things such as this because of emma.

Sanzu finds them cute and plays with them like dolls. The moment he stepped into your room and saw the amount of stuffed plushes and animals you had, he couldn't help himself when grabbing two and making them act like superheros and villains fighting each other. Sanzu would absolutely try taking the cutest ones or even the limited ones. Either get ready for a war or to show sanzu where you got half your collection from.

Kokonoi understands having a collection of something and offers to pay for any others you want. It could be the most expensive, biggest, smallest, or limited plush and he'd want to buy it for you. Send him a photo of what you want and it'd be on your bed in an hour.

Once Kakucho sees how many you have and how little space you have wanted to get you another room so you could keep growing your collection. Kakucho settled for building you a few more shelves that could hold the bigger plushes that you have.

Rindou acts like he doesn't care about them and doesn't even know that they exist but he almost immediately gets interested and fascinated by their names and stories they come with, and what you've come up with. Rindou will never admit it to you and will take this information to his grave but just know anytime you have a new one he will 100% be happy to hear all about it.

Ran is typical ran. He almost immediately asked if you named one after him, if you say yes for your own sake he will never let it go. Ran has no shame in being jealous that you cuddle with them at night instead of him. Please don't try and cuddle with ran and a plush at the same time, this man will literally throw a tantrum, throw the poor plush on the ground and make you give him like 50 kisses to "make" it up to him. He's annoying.

Mochi was honestly a little startled when he first saw, he thought you were joking when you mentioned how many plushes you had. Mochi did grow to love your plushes though, he finds then adore and doesn't mind buying you more for the fun of it.

Takeomi found it silly at first but seeing how happy you were he never said anything and found himself looking at some he could buy to surprise you with. He doesn't understand why you love them so much but he likes the challenge of finding new ones for you.

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blonde-batgirl · 2 years ago

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Absolutely wild that when Bachira is first introduced he seems a little... unhinged (affectionate) and then he turns out to be the second most normal of the major characters (second to Chigiri). Like, the kid just wants friends. Meanwhile, Reo could potentially be normal if he wasn’t a billionaire’s kid, but then there’s his whole friendship with Nagi to consider, Kunigami wants to be a real-life superhero (wrong manga), Nagi is apathy-incarnate and knows nothing about the sport but is somehow not only holding up but excelling in a setting that is designed to be as intense about it as physically possible, Rin’s whole tragic backstory is that his brother came back from training abroad and wanted to - gasp - switch to playing midfield instead of striker - the horror - and Isagi is. Well. Isagi is concerning. Personally, I don’t trust Ego and I will be very surprised if there isn’t some eventual twist regarding him and his philosophies (Chigiri mentions as early as volume two that he doesn’t think everything Ego says is true), and Isagi buys into all of it. Hook. Line. And sinker. Finally, somebody is telling him what he wants to hear and he develops rapidly into a poster boy for Ego’s whole philosophy. Like, it’s gloriously entertaining and I am here for it, but it’s objectively concerning.

#Blue Lock #Blue Lock Spoilers #Isagi Yoichi #Bachira Meguru #Chigiri Hyoma #Kunigami Rensuke #Reo Mikage #Nagi Seishiro #Rin Itoshi #Ego Jinpachi #Mine

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lilithsterrarium · 5 months ago

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Family Pet

The first chapter in something I hope to expand on soon!

Contains: A pervy trans girl, her two trans siblings, and her mom, alongside her VERY strong tastes for size stuff- more to introduce characters than anything.

The soft, carpeted hallway did little to muffle the footsteps as Lilith quietly tried to sneak around. Down the hallway, a collection of bedrooms- each belonging to another member of the family- and each one something she had to carefully sneak around, for fear of being heard. Her socked feet gently pressed against the ground as she passed each door in succession, taking a moment by each one to make sure she wasnt heard.

Her mother's room was closed off, a cute, welcoming space she always tried to get her girls into- to mixed results, of course. Inside, the middle-aged woman was peacefully snoring, and Lilith couldnt help but stare at her body as it slowly rose and fell with each breath. While she never had the chance to meet her father, she was seriously skeptical anyone in their right mind would pass up on someone like her mother... quickly feeling the bulge in her pants swell as her mother stirred, Lilith quickly ducking away. The hallway split off here- parts leading to the kitchen, bathroom, and living room, where Abby, the family dog, peacefully snored away. The hallway continued on in the other direction, and Lilith quietly continued her journey.

Her little sis came out as trans almost right after her, something that Lilith couldnt be prouder of... Katie was an absolute sweetheart, and the moment she declared she would rather be a princess than a superhero, her whole family had her back. Her older sister came out a long, long time ago, and was still comfortably resting in her room. The scent of weed and cheap beer wafted from the doorway, an almost intoxicating mixture as Lilith tried to peer inside... she loved her sisters, more than she would ever admit- and in more ways then even she knew. The door creaked as she tried to peek inside, and Lilith quickly sucked in her breath- hearing a weak, sleepy grunt from her older sibling as she hurridly darted away.

"Shit, shit, shit, SHIT-" her heart was racing as she entered her room, quickly closing the door. She listened for any movements, but couldnt hear anyone- and after a few seconds, she trusted the silence enough to slink over to her desk and open her laptop.

Glancing over her shoulder, she gently put on her headphones- blushing as she typed in the same search she had countless times before. It wasnt an uncommon occurance for people to shrink- a surprisingly simple (and suspiciously easy) to obtain feat now able to be bought for cheap. The issue is, it also became easier to unwillingly shrink people- all it took was a simple drugging, and people were as small as bugs within the grasp of their captors. These people went by a variety of names; tinies, micros, anything you could think of.

Those who underwent it for a variety of reasons were met with disdain- and it was widely agreed upon that these people, if you could call them that, were no longer human. Laws no longer covered them, people would often purposefully make their lives a living hell; it was something that less and less people were willing to do, at least not willingly. Lilith's cock jumped at the thought... she had asked, begged her older sis to buy the formula so she could be tiny- she knew her mother would say no... sure, she could buy it herself, but it was expensive, and she was unemployed... biting her lip, she sighed as she fantasized about being tiny. About being helpless, vulnerable, weak- sub-human, less than even insects, the very scum of the earth... her dick eagerly throbbed along as she whimpered gently. God, she wanted it.

The screen before her finally loaded, her internet slow but reliable as the fishy site came into view... dozens of videos lit up, all with a focus of tormenting tinies... these bug-sized shrimps Lilith was so, so jealous of. A variety of titles caught her eye, as she scrolled to find something to get off to.

"MICRO RIGHTS ACTIVIST KISSES MY BOOTS"

"Calling my Micro Pet Mean Names Until It Cums"

"tinies vs my blender lmao"

"Feeding a tiny to my pet cat~"

"Tinies v.s Daycare (The End Will Shock You!)"

"Tiny Gets Fucked by Cockroach"

"How to Start Collecting Tinies!"

Lilith let out an annoyed sigh, murmuring to herself as her dick throbbed.

"Seen it... seen it... that one was horrible, the tinies screamed way too loud... ungrateful little shits... seen it..."

She sighed, grabbing her dick and starting to gently stroke herself. She finally found a video she hadnt seen, clicking on it absentmindedly as she stroked herself... she hated how scared the tinies looked. They were so lucky, and they didnt even know it...

She brought herself to climax quickly, shooting ropes of cum into a tissue and quickly tossing it into a garbage bin... sighing as she closed her laptop. She slowly made her way to her nightstand, where she grabbed her pills... a mix of estrogen, progesterone, and an antidepressant... quickly pushing them into her mouth, and swallowing. Her mouth felt... off. A strange aftertaste stained her lips as she washed it down with a glass of water. She layed down, sighing as her eyes gently fluttered closed... the last thing she saw being her stuffed plushie. A cute stuffed bunny, it gently sat in her arms as she hugged it tight- her little snuggle buddy. She didnt care how old she was, she would always adore her plushie...

Lilith slept peacefully, unaware that her entire life would change the very next morning.

#writing #my writing #nsft #micro #size k!nk #size difference #size #fauxc3st #fauxcest #micro/macro #microphilia

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imagobin · 1 year ago

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⚪Johnathon Ohnn/The Spot Dad HCs⚫

Currently writing this while feeling horrible cause low blood pressure's a bitch. So to comfort myself, I decided to try and imagine what it'd be like to be The Spot's adoptive child, enjoy my sillies.

Pre-Collider

A Change of Opinion:

Johnathon always said to himself he wasn't a children man, he wasn't made to be a father; not to mention how anxious kids made him. They're too unpredictable, too hard to read, and what if he ever made one cry accidentally?! He couldn't handle that embarrassment, not at all.

That was until you came into his life. It felt like a switch immediately flipped in his brain and his dormant fatherly instincts just awakened, and since you had nowhere else to go back to, he decided to take you in.

Parenting:

Despite always being swamped with work, Johnathon does his best to take time off and take care of you.

He pays a lot of attention to what you like, and makes sure to surprise you by buying your favorite games/toys/books etc. or cooking your favorite dish.

Johnathon is always careful not to leave any dangerous devices or projects he might be working on around; he could never forgive himself if you were to get hurt because of them.

However, he also loves showing you how his inventions work, and he loves even more how your eyes sparkle with curiosity and wonder whenever he shares his passions with you. He feels proud.

One thing Johnathon always refuses to do however, is taking you to his workplace, deeming it too dangerous for a child, even if he knows you're a good kid and would never wander off on your own and disturb other people's work. When he needs to be at Alchemax, he hires a babysitter to keep you entertained while he's gone, and always makes it up to you later by buying you something he knows you'll like.

Post-Collider

Panic:

After the collider collapsed and Johnathon was turned into The Spot, his first thought was how you'd react to that. It sent him into a panic, what if you couldn't recognize him? What if he scared you? But he couldn't abandon you, that was absolutely out of the question.

So he came back home, like any normal evening, trying his very best to hide his face, but against all his best efforts, you noticed just how different he looked.

Against all odds however, you weren't scared of him. You could obviously tell he looked different, but he was still the same person who took care of you like a child of his own for all that time, so things did not change all that much.

He was extremely relieved about it, and was even more surprised when you started calling him a superhero since now he had very cool and funny powers.

Present day:

He's managed to find a job that he can work remotely from, hitting two birds with one stone: firstly, he doesn't have to deal with people judging him for how he looks now, and secondly, now that he works from home he's got a lot more time to dedicate to you.

Johnathon is also a lot more confident with his powers, and likes bringing you to all your favorite places since it literally takes him no time.

Johnathon is firmly convinced you're the only reason he didn't turn into a villain. Your happiness and how pridefully you like to announce to anyone that he's the coolest super-dad ever just fills his heart with joy.

---

#the spot #jonathan ohnn #it was only a matter of time before i did this #my daddy issue brain could never resist #across the spiderverse #spiderverse the spot #johnathon ohnn #the spot headcanons #headcanons #wholesome headcanons

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 2 years ago

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Can’t Help Falling in Love Chapter 8: Surprise!

Summary: Y/N takes Wanda out for a special day with the goal of proposing at the end of the night

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Y/N

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Y/N, Natasha Romanoff, Pietro Maximoff, Peter Parker

Warnings: May induce tears

Word Count: 2.5K

As Wanda was getting ready for their day out, Y/N managed to sneak downstairs to talk with Natasha, who was sitting at the table in the kitchen drinking coffee.

"We're leaving as soon as she gets dressed," Y/N said.

"You got the ring?" Nat asked as she looked up from her mug. Y/N patted the front pocket of his jeans. "Don't lose it," she smirked.

"The ring or my mind?" he joked.

"Both," she chuckled as she took a sip of her drink.

"Well I guess I'll text you when we're headed back," Y/N said. He turned to head back up to his apartment.

"Hey." He paused to look back at Natasha.

"Don't worry too much. You and I both know she'll say yes." She smiled sweetly up at him as she took another sip of her coffee.

"Thanks, Nat, for everything," he smiled back.

When Y/N returned to his apartment Wanda was sitting on the bed getting her shoes on. She wore a white t-shirt, blue jeans, brown boots, and had her favorite oversized hat and sunglasses next to her. Y/N felt a tad overdressed in his light blue button down, jeans, and brown chukka boots. He anxiously began to roll up his sleeves to make himself feel more casual. She looked up from her boots to him.

"You look nice," she approved as she eyed him up and down.

"So do you," he responded as he pushed his sleeve past his elbow. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"I'm excited for today," he admitted as he reached his hand out for hers.

"Me too." She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Y/N felt his heart leap into his throat. It was going to be a long day.

The day couldn't have started any better with lunch at the Hilltop. It was their go-to spot for after mission pick-me-ups. They laughed and reminisced over hot chocolates with whipped cream and stacks of wildberry pancakes dripping with butter and syrup. Y/N found his tension melting away like butter as they ate and talked for ages. After lunch they walked through the quaint village hand-in-hand to the farmers' market by village hall. They walked in silence as they basked in each other's presence and the beautiful spring day. The trees were budding and the air was sweet with the scent of fresh grass.

At the farmers' market Wanda came alive. She loved going from booth to booth talking to the various farmers and sampling their different products. Y/N observed her as she became a completely different person. This was a side of her he rarely saw but absolutely adored, the side of her that wasn't a superhero and wanted nothing more than to have her own quiet piece of land in the country so she could have her own gardens. They spent a couple of hours buying fresh fruits and vegetables, freshly baked pastries, jars of jellies and pickles, freshly cured meats, and, of course, a bouquet of sunflowers. Wanda was beaming as they walked their purchases back to the car. She was planning all the different things she could make with her latest finds.

After they loaded the bags into the car, they walked the two blocks to the Book Nook. It was their favorite local bookshop. Y/N discovered it when he first moved into the Compound and had introduced Wanda to it shortly after they started dating. The shop itself was small. Every wall was crammed with bookshelves that were overflowing with everything from the latest best-sellers to dog-eared paperbacks. Y/N watched as Wanda wandered the aisles, running her fingers across the book spines. She was intentional as she searched through the fiction section. She paused at books that caught her eye, pulling them out to read the summaries on the backs. He half-heartedly did the same. But Y/N was more focused on Wanda: the way she leaned into the bookshelf as she read through the books, how she brushed her hair behind her ear as she bent down to read the titles on the lower shelves, the way she stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating...He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against a shelf as he watched her stretch to replace a paperback from the top shelf. He smiled as he watched her give up, check to make sure no one was looking, and use her magic to send it back up. Wanda suddenly realized that Y/N was staring at her.

"Did you find something you like?" she asked.

"I'm looking right at it." Wanda blushed at his words.

"And why do you like it?" she teased.

"I think you already know." He slowly walked toward her, glancing over his shoulder briefly to make sure they were alone. They were in the back corner of the store hidden between two shelves and the wall.

"Tell me," she coaxed as she played with one of the rings on her finger.

Y/N felt his mouth dry up immediately. His hands felt clammy and sweaty and his heart was pounding in his chest.

"Everything. I like every single little thing. I like the way you light up a room full of people. I like the way you come alive at the farmers' market. I like the way you throw Pietro across the room when he irritates you. The way you hum the same song to yourself when you write up reports, the way you're never afraid to speak your mind, the way you make me feel safe, how you help me to be vulnerable, how you never laugh when I cry at movies, how you hold me when I wake up with flashbacks, how you make me a better man, your kindness, your smile, your laugh. I like everything about you, Wanda. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you." His hands felt numb as he fumbled for the box in his pocket. His whole plan had gone out the window but he didn't care. He was doing this right here and right now. Wanda gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as Y/N dropped to one knee and pulled the velvet box from his pocket. "Wanda, will you marry me?" he asked as he opened the box.

Wanda froze for a second, absolutely gobsmacked by the sight in front of her. As she came back to her senses she began to nod enthusiastically. "Yes," she whispered as tears began to run down her face.

Y/N's legs were shaking as he stood up and removed the ring from the box. He had regained some feeling in his hands but he still worried that he would drop the ring. He reached for Wanda's hand. As he slid the ring on her finger it felt like time had completely stopped. The universe consisted of the two of them, hearts racing and breath shaking, in this infinite moment.

"It's beautiful," she breathed as she admired the sparkling emerald that was resting on the golden band.

Y/N rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand as he held it, making sure to caress its newest addition. "I'm glad you like it," he replied as he smiled down at her.

"I love it."

"I love you."

"I love you too." Wanda wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug.

Y/N wrapped his arms tight around his fiancé not wanting to let her go. He buried his head in her hair as he nuzzled her neck. He was so unbelievably happy. The day had gone perfectly, well...almost perfectly. The romantic waterfront proposal was kaput. He hoped Nat wouldn't be too upset over all her hard work going down the drain.

Knowing it would cause Wanda to giggle, he wrapped his arms around her midsection, leaned back, and lifted her up off the ground. She laughed: it was the most glorious sound he'd ever heard.

"Oh god, we're getting married!" he realized aloud as he placed her back on the ground.

"Yeah," she blushed. "Yeah we are."

Y/N leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. He smiled into her lips, relishing in the ecstasy of the moment. As they broke apart, he saw the radiant smile beaming across her face. He leaned his forehead against hers as he grasped her waist.

"You know, Nat's gonna kill me for screwing up this plan we've been working on all week," he mumbled.

"So is that why everyone's been so weird all week?" Wanda asked, her eyebrows raised in feigned shock.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Nat and Yelena are setting up a picnic for us right now and that's where I was supposed to propose."

"Pietro-?"

"He found out last night. Yelena had him under penalty of death if he spoiled the surprise for you. Everyone knows, actually. I told Nat first. She drove me into the city to buy the ring last week. And we've been working out details since then."

"Well I was definitely surprised. And I'm glad you didn't ask me at a picnic...it would've been such a cliche," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Since when do you care about cliches?"

"I don't. I just thought it sounded good." She reached up to give him a quick peck on the lips.

"That's my girl," Y/N sighed as he kissed her forehead. "But we should probably get back and-"

"Tell everyone?"

"Yeah."

*************************************************

The drive back to the compound was full of excitement. Wanda was giddy talking about what her dream wedding from her childhood looked like. Planning the wedding would take a fair amount of time and effort but they were having fun throwing 'what if' scenarios out there.

As they got out of the car and headed towards the Compound, Y/N noticed Pietro and Yelena peeking through one of the windows. Before he could blink Pietro was standing in front of them.

"Hey guys! How's it going?" Pietro was fumbling over his words.

"Good! Why?" Wanda decided to have a little fun with her brother.

"No reason. Well, I mean I thought you two were...y'know...after lunch...'" He was gesturing toward the river with his head and eyes.

"What?" Y/N asked, catching on to what Wanda was doing.

"You know..." Pietro leaned in close to whisper in Y/N's ear. "The plan."

"Plan? What plan?" He looked at Wanda, who shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about. We're gonna put away our food and then go for a walk."

Pietro had a dumbstruck look plastered on his face as Wanda and Y/N headed for the door. They were giggling as soon as their backs were turned to him.

"Wait! Don't go in there!" Pietro yelled as Wanda opened the door for Y/N.

"Too late!" Wanda yelled back as Y/N dashed inside.

The two were doubled over in laughter as they got into the elevator.

"Okay, he was acting a little weird back there, I'll give you that," Y/N relented after he managed to stop laughing.

Wanda shot him a look. "Told you so," she murmured.

When the doors opened, Y/N and Wanda were shocked to see Peter standing in front of them holding a bunch of balloons in one hand as he scrolled on his phone with the other.

"Wha-?" His jaw dropped. "You guys aren't supposed to be here yet!"

'What are you talking about?" Wanda asked.

Peter looked extremely uncomfortable as he struggled to string a coherent sentence together.

"PETER! WHERE ARE THOSE BALLOONS?" Natasha bellowed from the kitchen.

"What on earth?" Y/N wondered as he started walking toward the kitchen.

"Wait! Y/N you can't go in there yet we're not-"

Y/N turned the corner into the kitchen and saw a banner taped to the cabinets that read "CONGRATULATIONS Y/N AND WANDA!"

"Ready..." He weakly finished his sentence as Wanda pushed past him. "Oh man, I'm so in trouble now."

Wanda and Y/N looked at each other, the two of them thoroughly confused as to what was unfolding around them.

"About time you got here, I sent you to get those balloons like what, twenty mi-" Natasha stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Y/N and Wanda standing in front of her. "Umm, what's going on?" she asked.

"I think I could ask you the same thing," Y/N retorted as he looked around the room.

"It's just a..." Nat couldn't finish her sentence. The ring on Wanda's finger distracted her.

"Surprise!" Wanda grinned as she held her hand up to show off the engagement ring.

All chaos broke loose at that moment. Everyone was running up to congratulate Wanda and Y/N on their engagement. She proudly showed off her ring as everyone complimented Y/N on a job well done. Through the commotion Nat managed to pull Y/N aside to tell him that she'd been planning a surprise engagement party for them the whole time.

"If there's any couple that deserved an engagement party it would definitely be you two!" she explained.

They set out the contents of the picnic basket for everyone to enjoy while Tony went out to buy an absurd amount of champagne. The afternoon was spent toasting the happy couple, giving Y/N unsolicited marriage advice, and asking Wanda where she was going to buy her dress. It was the most normal the two had felt in a long time and they were relishing every second of it. The party went well into the evening when the booze finally ran out.

After the party fizzled out everyone headed their separate ways, Wanda and Y/N headed to the elevator at the end of the hallway. As the door shut after Wanda pushed the button to take them back up to their apartments, Y/N came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She shrieked at the unexpected contact and turned over her shoulder to look at him. He was resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Do you want to know why I asked you to marry me?" Y/N asked.

"Sure," Wanda giggled, placing her hands over his.

"Because your shoulder is the comfiest chin rest ever," he teased as he began swaying the two of them from side to side.

"That's exactly what every woman wants to hear," she groaned as she playfully swatted his hand. He squeezed her tighter in response.

"Don't ever leave me," he whispered as he tilted his head to fully rest it on her shoulder.

"I'm not planning on it, Hemingway." She turned her head to look at him.

"Good. Life's better when you're around."

Wanda couldn't help but smile.

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therecordconnection · 3 months ago

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Ranting and Raving: "Dreams" by Van Halen

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Picture it: A team of teenage superheroes piloting a giant fighting machine have just defeated an evil wizard (who himself has just fused with a different giant fighting machine) who was trying to achieve world domination by unearthing two long-buried giant death machines that lie underneath a bustling city. The wizard couldn’t free these machines on his own, so his plan was to hypnotize the parents and adults of an entire city so he could have enough slave labor to free them. The machines were successfully freed and used to try and destroy the entire city, which was only made possible by convincing all the parents and adults to buy and use purple ooze (made by the wizard) sold in a can and advertised as a multi-use product. Once the wizard got what he wanted, his final command to the hypnotized masses was to march and throw themselves off of a cliff like a giant herd of human lemmings. They are eventually saved when the kids of the parents and adults figure out that dumping water on them undoes the hypnotism. They do this while the heroes are off fighting the wizard.

The superheroes, before saving the day, have had to travel to a distant planet in order to find “The Great Power.” This was needed after the wizard destroyed the heroes’ main base and placed their leader into a near-death state, which strips the heroes of their powers. Long story short, the heroes find said great power, return to their city, and quickly spring into action to save the day. Once the day is saved, our heroes, disguised in their civilian identities, celebrate with the entire town and enjoy a fireworks display put on by the town in order to properly thank their heroes.

That thank you is spelled out on a billboard in bright lights and pyrotechnics. It reads, “Thank You POWER RANGERS.” Van Halen’s “Dreams” plays during this entire fireworks display and it’s a glorious end to one of the campiest, silliest, most beautiful mid-nineties time capsule movies ever made.

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Everything about 1995’s Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers: The Movie is so lovably, shamelessly, unabashedly DUMB! But that’s the incredible beauty about it. In this movie version of the popular TV show's world, the rangers, who never had that much characterization to begin with, become one-liner machines saying stuff so heinously idiotic that even Spider-Man would shake his head in embarrassment. Consider: The movie's absolutely bonkers first fight scene against evil wizard Ivan Ooze’s Ooze-Men. The following lines are all said in rapid succession: Tommy (White Ranger): "Welcome to my nightmare." (said right after Ivan said this, which is a reference to an Alice Cooper song.) Adam (Black): "Wanna play Kick the Can?" (Adam then kicks a bucket at one of them.) Aisha (Yellow): "Kiss & Make-Up!" (Aisha slams two ooze-men together, knocking them out.) Adam: "Let Me Get the Door." (Adam hits one of them by opening a door in an ooze-man’s face.) Billy (Blue): "You Ooze, You Lose." Kimberly (Pink): "SIT DOWN!" (said when she kicks one of them and they land on their butt).

I'm pretty sure whoever wrote this movie only had passing knowledge of the show and assumed the rangers always talk like this while fighting. Whoever choreographed the fight scenes REALLY loved watching the rangers do backflips. They do it SO FUCKING MUCH! I never noticed until my most recent watch with friends. Billy, Kimberly, and Rocky (Red) backflip like Olympic gymnasts throughout this entire movie (for Kim makes sense, she's a gymnast in the show).

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The writing of the movie is at its strongest whenever Ivan Ooze is on screen. Paul Freeman gives the performance of a lifetime and plays Ivan exactly the way a corny villain in a nineties kids movie needs to be played: Over the top, gleefully evil, with a backstory that is basically 1:1 Rita Repulsa's story from the show (locked in a bucket, freed by humans, seeking revenge). Everything he says in the movie is gold. My friend Brian and I knew it was coming and laughed like bandits when Ooze delivered the best line in the movie: "Oh the things that I have missed: the Black Plague, the Spanish Inquisition, the Brady Bunch Reunion." Freeman delivers all of this like a perfect Saturday morning cartoon villain. On some level, he knows he's playing a purple monster wizard in a kids movie, but on another, he takes it seriously. A superhero movie is only as good as the villain the heroes need to defeat. He's better than any villain in the show mostly by merit of being in something longer than a TV show episode, but he's also better because he just oozes (heh heh) personality from minute one until the end (when he's crotch-kicked into a comet).

This movie is also smart enough to know its audience and plays to it. It knows that it was made for kids ages 5-10 who had been watching the show for two years and already know everything about the rangers and their world. The movie correctly assumes you've watched the show in some capacity, so it doesn't have to waste any time. We just get into it immediately and the movie is better for it. The pacing is great! It never feels like the movie drags at all and there's always something happening. It revels in its own camp and ridiculousness. It just throws everything at you and it never fully loses that delightfully light-hearted tone, even in its most dramatic moments.

You can immediately tell where the extra budget for a movie went. Normally this would be sarcastic, but it's not in this case. The movie begins with the rangers going skydiving and roller skating through the park. The new metallic look for the ranger costumes still holds up. The costumes really pop and I think they're visually better for "The Movie" than the spandex from the show would've been. The re-designed Command Center looks great (despite the fact that Ivan destroys it in about two minutes). Zordon looks goofy, but you can tell he got "The Movie" treatment by having a more realistic looking hologram head. The Alpha-5 costume is a little shinier and he clinks and clanks more like a robot. The zords and Megazord fight in this one got the budget of CGI, but that's the one place where I think the budget wasn't worth it. That's where the movie really looks the most dated and I'd even argue it looks like dogshit dripping from a paper bag. But it's so bad in the funniest ways. If anything, the movie gets more charming because it was bold enough to go with something that bad.

Money definitely went to the soundtrack, which is almost undeserved: Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Higher Ground" cover is here. DEVO (who recorded songs for movies when they felt like it) gives us fight music with "Are You Ready?" Shampoo's "Trouble" soundtracking parents marching to their death like lemmings is unintentionally funny. The orchestral version of the Power Rangers theme that plays during the morphing sequence (which still rules) is big, ridiculous, and epic all at once, just like the movie is. But if you ask me, the one soundtrack moment everyone remembers is the very end, when Van Halen’s “Dreams” plays. Say what you will about the Power Rangers movie, but it absolutely earns the right to have that song as its ending theme. The first time I ever heard Van Halen, as I imagine a bunch of people my age did (I’m 29) was when I was a little kid watching that movie on VHS in the late nineties. I can’t hear the song without thinking of the Power Rangers. Evidently, I’m not alone in that regard. If you scroll through the comments section on any Youtube video for “Dreams,” you’ll find somebody referencing the movie in some form. “Dreams” works as an anthem for the Power Rangers because lead vocalist Sammy Hagar’s lyrics and thesis statement for the song are basically proven and reinforced by what the Rangers do in the movie. The biggest, brightest, cheesiest superheroes deserved (and, more importantly, earned) one of the biggest, brightest, cheesiest songs made in a decade that was full of them. “Dreams” is special. It’s a perfect song, and, oddly enough, Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers: The Movie, of all things, reinforces why it’s a perfect song.

I highly doubt Sammy Hagar or any of the guys in Van Halen saw the Power Rangers movie. All four members of the band had kids by the time the movie came out, but they were all scattered in age (and some of them were older than the target demographic). My only guess as to how Saban Entertainment got the rights to the song is that somebody told Hagar and the guys that the song would do business because the movie was going to do business (and it did: $66.4 million box office against a $15 million budget. It was fourth on its opening weekend against Apollo 13, Pocahontas, and Batman: Forever). I imagine they were paid a nice check for that and thought there wasn’t any harm in having a nine year old song of theirs featured in a kids movie. It wasn’t like Van Halen needed the extra exposure. They were one of the survivors of the grunge era. They were still consistently doing good business and playing arena shows. Hell, they had scored their fourth #1 album (Balance, which would end up going triple-platinum) five months before the movie came out. They were doing just fine.

“Dreams” was never the biggest Van Halen hit (it peaked at #22 on the Billboard Hot 100) but chart success isn’t always the best indicator of a song’s history and life. “Dreams” is one of the most beloved songs of the Hagar-era of the band and it remained a live staple for the entire time Hagar was in the band. Even after the “Van Hagar” years, it stuck around after that. Sammy has played it a healthy amount during his own solo ventures and other bands post-Halen. I remember hearing the song a lot (among others) when Eddie Van Halen died in 2020. A great song always finds ways to stick around.

I’ve always had the theory that by the mid-eighties, Eddie Van Halen was starting to get a little bored with being one of the best guitar players in the world. Around the mid-eighties with the 1984 album, he started really experimenting with keyboards and synthesizers, the instrument that invaded eighties rock and threw rockers to the ground in a Big Show-style choke slam. Of the eighties dad rock bands that incorporated keyboards into the mix, I think besides Geddy Lee in Rush, Eddie was one of the best to do it. It helps that he didn’t have to learn how to play them on the job. Before becoming a guitar god, Eddie trained to be a classical pianist. That’s what his parents wanted him to be before he got bitten by the rock n’ roll bug. As a fan in the eighties, it was probably weird to suddenly see the wildly technical guitar hero suddenly start banging on keys, but I doubt it was to Eddie. He already had experience with the instrument and just like guitar, Eddie was good at playing keyboards.

You can hear all of that experience in the intro to “Dreams.” It’s a stunning and beautiful melody, played on an Oberheim OB-8 (for all you gearheads keeping score at home). It’s coupled with Eddie mirroring it with an acoustic guitar and it just adds to the beauty of the whole thing. It’s soothing. It’s euphoric. It’s enticing. It’s any number of adjectives you want to ascribe to it. 1986, the year “Dreams” came out, was the beginning of the really overwrought synth-cheese years. Say what you want about the synth-heavy Van Hagar songs, but Eddie knew good keyboard sounds when he heard them.

I love that little two second pause right before the rest of the band launches into the song. It’s great! Van Halen always had great energy and “Dreams” comes right out of the gate with it. Alex Van Halen’s drum sound is so underrated to me. I’ve always loved how much weight his drum sound has. He comes crashing in and it feels like he just punched through a gate and sent it flying into a wall. His drums are just so beautifully pronounced without getting in the way of everything else. He might have been one of the only rock drummers on Earth in the eighties who didn’t buy into the whole gated reverb craze that Phil Collins invented. It really makes him and his whole sound that much more unique in hindsight.

Sammy Hagar had the improbable task of replacing David Lee Roth when he left Van Halen in 1985. For the record, I like both singers, but prefer Sammy. Roth was a great showman and frontman, but as a singer, I��ve always found him goofy and limited. He basically modeled his entire approach––from his look to the way he sang––on Vegas-era Elvis Presley (he kicks like the king, but he jumped around more than the king could). To me, his lyrical contributions always came with a sense of danger and unpredictability, but when he sang about specific people, it always sounded like he was armed with sarcasm. Nothing out of his mouth ever felt sincere, but I also recognize people didn’t want that from him. They just wanted a party animal. He obliged, and he was certainly entertaining to watch, but as a singer he only had a small toolbox of skills. Sammy didn’t have the sense of danger and that wild man/party boy spirit, but he was still a great showman in his own way and––let’s face it, people––a better singer with much more range and skills. I think one of the most important skills Sammy had, the one skill above all else that made his time with the band so successful, was Sammy’s sincerity.

Roth wouldn’t have pulled off a song like “Dreams.” Part of that is because Roth couldn’t do a vocal like Sammy’s if his life depended on it. A bigger part is that Roth would’ve scoffed at Sammy’s lyrics for the song, which are very simply about following your dreams and never giving up, no matter how hard it gets. He would’ve laughed like a school bully and called him a clown (which would’ve been the pot calling the kettle black, but I digress).

Sammy’s not the most gifted lyricist in the world (“Only time will tell if we stand the test of time” from “Why Can’t This Be Love” is a prime example of this) but Sammy’s greatest strength as both a lyricist and a singer is a tried and true one: It doesn’t sound stupid if you believe it and know how to sell it.

On paper, Sammy’s lyrics to “Dreams” aren’t impressive in the slightest. Most of them read like obvious and cookie-cutter motivational quotes that wouldn’t look out of place on a Hallmark card or a motivational calendar. But when he sings them? That’s what makes the difference. The great energy that the song already has gets immediately amplified to greater heights once Sammy steps up to that mic. When Sammy delivers the lines, “Yeah, you reach for the golden ring / You reach for the sky! / Baby, just spread your wings” he starts getting extremely hammy, but not in a bad way. It’s even more hammy during the chorus, if you can believe it, where Sammy practically screams out to the masses and assures us that we’re gonna get higher and higher and climb straight up. That chorus turns the entire song into a spectacle and Sammy sings it with such heartfelt sincerity that even the most cynical asshole you know would be swayed by it. He believes every single word of this song and that’s what gives the song its power. He delivers the lyrics with unshakable belief that we can fly higher and climb higher than we think we can. It’s glorious. If you listen to this whole song and it doesn’t make you feel fucking invincible, if it doesn’t motivate you or help make you feel like you could do anything and achieve anything, then I don’t know what to tell you.

The song’s most beautiful moments are during the post-choruses, when the melody from the intro returns and Sammy delivers his most impactful lines:

So baby, dry your eyes Save all the tears you've cried Oh, that's what dreams are made of 'Cause we belong In a world that must be strong Oh, that's what dreams are made of

Alex’s quick dum-dum-dum-dum drum hits during that are incredible. I love that bit when Sammy sings”Oh, that’s what dreams” and then Alex crashes back into the beat just as Sammy is finishing the line (“are made of”). A musical moment like that was born to soundtrack boxers and UFC fighters scoring knockouts, heroes defeating villains, people performing wild and incredible feats. It’s magic, that’s the best way I can describe it to you.

Eddie plays keyboards throughout the song, but he’s still Eddie Van Halen, so that means that he’s gonna give you a guitar solo. Come on, what do you think this is? There are better Eddie solos than what’s on “Dreams,” but one of the reasons Eddie is so revered as a master of his craft is because he understood that a guitar solo has to serve the song. It has to give the song something. Eddie fires off two quick solos during the second half and they’re everything you want from the guy. They serve the song by ramping up the ridiculousness and hamminess of the lyrics by giving the song a triumphant melody and energy. The end of that first solo near the 3:07 mark sounds like victory and it opens up the song for Sammy to return and wail that chorus again. That second solo around the 4:00 mark keeps that triumphant feeling and it’s everything you love about Eddie Van Halen’s guitar playing in just fifteen seconds. Excellent tone, wonderful melody, that always-cool finger-tapping thing, what more could you ask for? That shit rules and it’s not hard to understand why so many classic rock fans miss Eddie so much.

The song ends in the most wonderful way possible. Sammy sings, “And in the end / On dreams we will depend” but instead of repeating that’s what dreams are made of, he switches it and sings, “‘Cause that’s what love is made of.” Only in the mid-eighties could you end a song like that and have it be so feel-good and so lovably silly. I love Eddie’s keyboard outro right at the end and that held note that just fades out. It’s a great ending and leaves you with the best feeling. It’s awesome. No notes.

“Dreams” is a perfect song because it’s so over the top, so ridiculous, but so lovably and unabashedly sincere. It revels in the cheesiness of its entire production. It does the exact same thing that something like Stan Bush’s “The Touch” (another pumped-up motivational eighties classic that famously appeared in a ridiculous-yet-incredible kids movie) and serves as lovably campy motivation music.

youtube

For Sammy Hagar, the motivational lyrics to "Dreams" were written as a sort of victory lap and testimony from himself. He was a kid who grew up dirt-poor and struggled in poverty for most of his adolescence, but powered through that and somehow grew up to become a successful, world conquering musician. “Dreams” was his way of telling his fans and anybody who needed the song that if he can do it, so can you. If you have a dream, fight for it. You can make it happen if you work for it, believe in yourself, and don’t give up. You know who believes that kind of stuff? The Power Rangers.

The reason “Dreams” works so well as the end-credits song to the Power Rangers movie is because like the song, The movie revels in how ridiculous and over the top it is, but it never loses its sincerity. Like Sammy Hagar, the movie believes in everything it's selling to you and it remains unshakably optimistic. There's not an ounce of cynicism to be found in one single second of that movie. The only sarcasm are the quick one-liner jokes that come out of the rangers' mouths. After almost twenty years of MCU garbage, the Power Rangers movie becomes surprisingly refreshing. They also stand by what Hagar preaches in “Dreams.” They’re a source of motivation and just like Sammy, they believe that keep going and you don’t give up, no matter how bad things get or how impossible things seem. The movie reinforces “Dreams” by showing you six people with unbreakable determination. Here’s a superhero team that effectively loses their powers (it happens when Zordon is practically killed by Ivan Ooze, which makes no sense because the ranger powers aren’t directly tied to Zordon in the show) and become ordinary people again. Rather than wallow and accept all is lost, they risk their lives to travel to an unknown planet and find a great power that will restore them to being Power Rangers again and allow them to save both Zordon and the city of Angel Grove. No matter how tough their journey gets, they never break. They know they can turn things around and save the day if they don’t give up and keep going. Whether they have their ranger powers or not, they’re in a world where they have to stay strong and keep going. No matter what.

It's really easy to listen to “Dreams” or look back at the Power Rangers now and laugh at how silly and cornball it all is... but kids in the mid-nineties certainly didn't think it was stupid. I didn't think it was stupid either when I was a kid in the late nineties. Look me dead in the face and tell me Tommy Oliver doing impossible bicycle kicks and, later, a wild corkscrew kick dressed to the nines as a ninja isn't the coolest shit in the world. Go on. Do it.

The Power Rangers are six of the silliest heroes ever put on Western TV and movie screens, but they're still heroes. Even when things get tough and the situation is dire, they refuse to break down and give up. They keep going. They endure, because they know they have to. Because they know people need heroes. They always will. “Dreams,” as over the top as it is, is a song that reflects that sentiment of endurance and the belief that nothing is impossible. Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers: The Movie earned the right to have a song as perfectly uplifting and as gloriously electrifying as Van Halen's “Dreams” close the curtain on their Hollywood movie experience. We’re all better for having their specific brand of cheesy optimism in the world.

Thank you, Power Rangers.

#original post #ranting and raving #van halen #Youtube

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xxanaduwrites · 5 months ago

Text

DOWNFALL | a.b.

main hub of all important thangs

chapter 6

got your hands at the back of my soul and the more that i show you the more i'm afraid that you're gonna wake up and realize i'm not the one — paranoid, lauv

——

Butthead's snazzy shirt stared at me for an entire week.

After the superhero moves I pulled a few days ago with my sidekick — or maybe I was the sidekick and he was the main hero, considering how he was saving me the entire time — I got back to work an exhausted wreck.

Levi — wanting to throw Dax in the back dumper, as he so beautifully put it — needed a good gossip fix to make up for the pain he endured the entire time I was gone. Like a whole reporter on the scope, he barreled every question he could think of, while continuously going on about how fucking tiny the world was. How it was crazy the universe just threw us back together like that — that it was a sign.

Superstitious Jeans.

He also flipped the fuck out when he realized I was wearing Austin's shirt. Of course, his mind quickly went in the gutter, assuming we fucked around to which I immediatly denied. Even when I tried explaining the whole coffee shabackle, his smirk and knowing eyes that really knew absolutely nothing — didn't buy a word I said.

It was like I was talking to an entire brick wall.

"You can say whatever you want." He told me. "But I saw the way that hunk so smoothly caught my keys and then caught you. Y'all were staring at each other for a solid minute."

I wanted to throw myself on the floor, roll over, and dissolve into the floorboards.

Seeing where Levi's perspective on the matter lied, I was grateful Austin had texted me first when I was in the lot. Saved me the trouble of ever bringing it up to Jeans and giving that boy ideas. With my luck, Levi — being the wingman he loved to be — would totally take my phone when I wasn't looking, pretend to be me, and flirt his head off with Austin.

Would be better off if he didn't know I had his number.

That night, I locked up, went home, and peeled off his shirt. I still had no fucking clue what kind of cologne he laced his clothes with, but my god that shit smelled good. The most devastating part was tossing it in the wash.

A part of me wished I never did so while another was happy I could finally breathe proper air that wasn't drugged up in his scent.

Now, it just sat there, perfectly pressed and hung up on the doorknob of my closet. Like some sort of blaring billboard, it flashed its lights at me every single time I walked in my room. The worst was when I sat on my bed. I couldn't focus on my book, my laptop, or even the television — which were my favorite down time activities — with that thing just sitting there, staring straight into my soul.

I felt like I was going mad.

Being that today was Sunday, the bookstore was closed and I was off from work — meaning I had nothing to do. Syd always went to the gym or surfing on the weekends. It alternated depending on her mood, the weather, and if she had a competition coming up. Something I was glad she did without me, considering me and any form of physical activity in an athletic-esce form did not go together at all. Let alone get along.

Definitely not all chummy.

My noodle arms could never keep up.

Apparently she decided on the gym today, bringing Brock along for the ride — which hinted that she'd be gone for longer than usual. That meant, I was home alone, but not really alone — chilling with my not-so-good pal, Austin's shirt.

I needed out.

Bad.

I came to this conclusion when I found myself reading over a particular page ten times over, not grasping a single word of my book. And I was sitting in the living room — for fucks sake! Nowhere near Butthead's shirt. It was then that I figured I really needed to get out of the house — even though I really didn't want to.

As if this wasn't already bad enough, this man not only weaseled his way into my two favorite places, but also managed to infiltrate his presence into my bedroom where my bed — who was my main squeeze and boyfriend — lived — without ever stepping foot inside! Now, I guessed it was the whole fucking apartment.

Fan-fucking-tastic!

Getting kicked out of all my homes. Now where would I live?

With a huff, I grabbed my keys and tossed my book in my bag before heading out for the day. Where? I didn't know. But I was sure it would be one of the two places I usually went to. The bookstore was obviously a no for today. So that left me with Sunshine Spot.

I could only hope for the best.

Popping in my earbuds, I began my descent down the familiar stairs and out the door of my complex. When I stepped outside I almost went blind from how sunny it was. I immediately fished for my sunglasses, placing them on the bridge of my nose.

Sometimes I wondered if I was a vampire from how sensitive I always got. Or maybe it was just my introverted side making up more excuses to not leave the house. Either way, I definitely pulled off the 'fuck off, leave me alone' look with my earbuds in and my shades on. Not having to listen or look anyone in the eye sounded perfect to me.

And it was.

Until I got to my destination.

But to be fair, it was completely my own fault.

My dumbass was actually looking at her cellular device, trying to change the song I was listening to — but of course being the old piece of shit it was, the thing decided to lag on me right as I was walking through the door. Robotically, I messed around with every app and button known to man trying to fix it, but it just kept playing this one song that reminded me way too much of my awkward teenage years.

Somehow I managed to get to my favorite booth in the joint without even looking up. Sliding into the seat backwards, my back hit the wall and my knees shot up to my chest like a fetus — sideways in the booth.

I couldn't sit like a whole grown human — at all.

When I went to turn and slam the side of my phone on the table to wake it up, I almost died right on the spot when I realized someone was sitting across from me in my peripheral vision. Shutting my eyes for a moment, I tried to brace myself for what I would come face to face with —whoever was on the other side. Trying to figure out some sort of lame excuse that wouldn't make me look like a complete weirdo for sliding right into a booth that was already rightfully claimed.

Taking a breath and finally opening my eyes, I shut them just as fast when I captured the image of the person in front of me. Either I was losing my mind, or it was in fact him who was sitting in the same damn booth as me.

Saying him, I meant Austin with all of his butt related names.

You've got to be shitting me right now.

Why was this always happening to me?

Was he fucking following me or something?

Did his shirt manifest his presence right in front of me? —saying, 'Ha! Jokes on you! You can't escape me no matter how hard ya try!'

Reopening my eyes, I ripped my headphones out of my ears and absolutely lost it. "You!" I pointed at him as if I was blaming him for something — which I mentally was.

"Me?" he questioned and apprehensively confirmed, bracing a hand against his solid chest that was clad in a simple white t-shirt— clearly not understanding where I was going with this.

My mouth decided to work on its own accord and not cooperate with my brain. "What the hell are you doing here?" I grilled him immediately.

For a moment, he just stared at me blankly, seeming equally as confused but also slightly amused with the way his lips curled up. "Nice to see you too," he mused. Biting his lip, he looked down at the table. "Um." I followed his gaze, noting a small black moleskine journal that was sandwiched between his hands. One was inside the book, serving as a bookmark for whatever page I assumed he was writing on while the other was braced on top with a pen firmly tucked in between his fingers. It looked like I had totally interrupted his journaling— or journalism, if you will. "I should be asking you the same thing." He said, tilting his head as he studied me.

"Right," I sighed, readying myself for my long awaited explanation. "I didn't realize someone else was sitting here. Sorry —I'll just go."

I was in the process of awkwardly maneuvering myself out of the booth — finally rearranging my legs to be in a normal seating position when his husky voice spoke up. "No," he stopped me. "I mean, you can stay if you want. I'm not waiting on anyone anyways. Unless you're waiting on someone yourself."

"I'm not. Thanks, but —I don't want to disturb you, if you're working," I declined his offer, already feeling like a total intruder. Even though he unknowingly intruded on my favorite spot to sit when it came to avoiding people and having my own personal space to breathe.

"It's fine," he reiterated, not giving up for some reason unknown to me. "I was just finishing up anyways." To prove his point, he opened his journal back up, tucking his pen inside before closing it.

Looking around, I quickly assessed the available tables, only to come up short with a place to sit. The lunch hour was already hopping, meaning the joint was in fact packed and there was nowhere to sit that wouldn't have me up in somebody else's grill — listening in on their conversations. If I had to hear one more lady discuss the latest hot gossip about her neighbor's affair like a true Soap Opera while I was trying to read my book — I was gonna lose it.

"Sure," I gave in, unslinging my tote from my shoulder and shoving my phone and headphones inside.

It wouldn't kill me to sit with him for a little bit.

Right?

"So..." he began, starting some sort of conversation. "Did you end up at that nightclub?"

Well that was one way to get my attention.

"I'm sorry?" I questioned, totally not catching on to what he was going on about. Suddenly feeling extremely nervous, I braced my hands together on the table, hoping he wouldn't notice that I was shaking as I messed around with the rings on my fingers."What nightclub?"

He cupped his hand over his chin, displaying his ring cladded fingers that bounced against the light from the lamp hanging above us. Today he wore a few different silver bands that I found myself staring at. "The one your friend behind the counter said he was turning your bookstore into." He explained shyly.

"Oh!" He remembered that? "No." I shook my head, laughing lightly at the memory. "He didn't — thankfully."

"Good," he said. " It would've been a shame if he'd done it. I'd never get a chance to go back there and scan the collection if a dance floor and bar replaced all the shelves."

Picturing Levi running an entire nightclub that had a Saturday Night Fever Vibe with a John Trovolta-esce dance floor that lit up and changed colors, simultaneously made me want to laugh and cry. Laugh because I knew Marlon would absolutely be beside himself, and cry because I would lose it if Levi fucked up my displays and let people destroy the vintage portion of the collection where our rare books could be found. If I could take in all those babies I would.

Trying my hardest not to make a smart ass comment, I agreed with him."That would be devastating."

Which then left me to immediately overthink it.

Devastating in the sense of the bookstore being destroyed or devastating that he'd never get to see it?

Oh god.

What if he thought I was flirting with him — thinking I'd be saddened not to see him again?

"Maybe I could just shove all the books in a back closet and hide in there while he parties," I tried to save myself. "Problem solved."

"As long as it's against a wall, so you could live up to your name," he replied, reminding me of the 'Wall Girl' title he gave me.

"Very funny," I threw out sarcastically, rolling my eyes as a busboy placed two glasses on the table — filling them up from a pitcher of water. "And I'd have to lock up my toothpick umbrellas in a safe. Wouldn't want you ruining my pretty drinks."

"Oh?" He perked up with that one, intrigue flooding in his curious blue eyes. "So I'm invited to this theoretical nightclub?"

Oh. My. God.

"Um." My cheeks heated at the implication, making it impossible for me to conjure up some sort of response. He had me cornered. "I-I wouldn't be surprised if Levi invited you." Volly saved. His brows confirmed to me that he wasn't sure who I was talking about. "Levi is my co-worker. The dude behind the desk," I confirmed to which he nodded in understanding once it all clicked.

"Hi. Welcome to Sunshine Spot. I'm Sherry, and I'll be your server today." My favorite lady came over to take our order, whisking us out of our conversation. Flicking through her order pad, she didn't realize I was sitting right in front of her. "What can I get —" She immediately trailed off once she caught my eye, surprise washing over her features. "My girl! I should've known you'd be sitting here. My intuition must've served me right and felt your presence."

"Hey Sher," I greeted her back, my nerves subsiding as my gratitude rose the moment she appeared. It must've totally gone over her head that I was right here since I normally always sat alone.

She smiled back at me, before she glanced over at Austin, giving him a hard stare. "Who are you?" She asked him, her whole demeanor changing as she took him in.

"Austin," he introduced himself, a picture perfect smile gracing his face — totally disregarding Sher's judging stare in an attempt to butter her the fuck up. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

She looked even more taken aback, baffled that he could say such a thing to her — completely forgetting they talked the other day.

Good.

Humble him.

"Sher." I got her attention. "You spoke to him the other day on the phone." She still looked lost, so I elaborated. "You thought I was being kidnapped while I was ordering coffees for Syd's meeting."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands, piecing it together. "That was you?" He nodded. "Good. Now I can keep my eye on you. If you even try anything with my girl here I will not hesitate to —"

"Alrighty then!" I cut her off, reaching for a menu and shoving it across the table for Austin to look at. "Shall we order?"

"Mhm," Austin mumbled as he flipped a page, searching it over.

God, this was fucking awkward.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Sher's spirit to death, but this was not the time for threats especially when there was nothing between me and Austin. We weren't even close enough to be considered friends.

"The usual for you, dear?" Sher asked, making it blatantly obvious of my regular appearances here.

"Yep," I confirmed, popping the p in exaggeration while passing the menu back to her.

Taking it from me, she turned to Austin with absolutely no cheer presence. "And for you?" She was already flexing her hand for the menu like she couldn't be bothered.

"Um. Just a coffee," He said simply. "Black. No milk or sugar, please."

"God." She put the hand with the pen over her heart dramatically. "Is that it?

We both nodded.

"Interesting." She paused for a moment. "Do you kids ever eat or just feed off of coffee like it's a drug?" She inquired, but didn't wait for us to respond. "I'm sending over fries and gravy for you two so I know you're not starving yourselves, and I can sleep peacefully tonight." She decided, jotting that last order down before walking away with no argument.

"I take it that you just ordered a coffee too? Nothing else?" he weighed, clearly reading between the lines.

"Just the drug," I firmly stated. "Certified junkie."

A stupid toothy grin threw up all over his face at my words, his eyes crinkling as they tightened in hysterics. I couldn't help but join him as he laughed his ass off right in front of me. It was the first time I ever saw him completely lose it like that, and it was such a fascinating sight to see. Especially since he always tended to hide it in front me.

Swiping a hand over his face to compose himself, he unknowingly pushed a curl out of the expanse of his hair.

"Makes the two of us," he said once he could get the words out without cracking up again.

I couldn't help but stare at the blonde lock casually lingering against his forehead like Danny Zuko. I supposed it really was a Grease kind of day. "Hm," I teased. "I'm the top junkie. Let's see if you fit the qualifications for certification."

Somehow, I managed to cough up the confidence to look him in the eye as he said, "Wow. Big words for the bookstore girl." He held his hands up in defense. "I see how it is."

Bookstore girl.

"What?" I inquired, absolutely flushed. "Scared you're gonna lose to the reigning champ?"

Thankfully a server came over with our drinks, and his gaze was trained on our coffees right in front of us. "Nope. I'm ready for the challenge." He licked his lips as he anticipated the taste of the coffee on his tongue, preparing himself for our little game.

Oh fuck.

"Of course you ordered black coffee," I spat out, not thinking before I spoke — far too focused on his perfectly sculpted cherry lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He leaned over the table, sizing me up.

"I don't know," I sighed, messing around with the straw stabbed into the lid on my drink. . "Reminds me of my basic ex-bosses at the publisher company. Boring bitter drinks, boring bitter men," I recalled, the memories of fucking up drink orders at my internship permanently etched into my head.

"So you think I'm boring and bitter?" He scoffed, clearly offended.

Shit.

Fuck.

"No!" I almost yelled, my heart racing out of my chest as I tried to think of a good way to maneuver out of the grave I just dug myself in. "I mean — not that you are boring or bitter. Well, I — I get milk and creamer in my drink, but that doesn't make me cool or peachy. Just the opposite. Trust me, I'm known to be very boring and bland. It's my middle —"

"Rianne!" He called, a smile etching onto his face as he cut me off. "I'm only joking with you." It was then that I felt his thumb dig into the side of my hand where my thumb and pointer finger met as if he was trying to bring me back to reality.

Oh.

Hello?

The realization dawned over me that in the middle of my excitement, I must have reached across the table and trapped his hand under my own out of reflex to console him in some fashion.

My fingers immediately tensed at the contact.

"Right," I gulped. A wave of electricity shooting from my fingertips all the way up to my arms jolted me awake, and I pulled back sheepishly.

Wrapping my hands around my drink, I tried to cool my hand down that felt awfully hot. I took a sip, tasting straight up sugar and creamer with the perfect amount of bitterness as a means to distract myself from the obvious.

I watched as he did just the same, using his other hand — that was never locked in my hold — to pick up his drink and take a sip. My eyes traveled to his other hand that was still braced on the table — still and unmoving. I thought I imagined it when his hand flexed for just a moment before he pulled it away.

"Hm," he hummed in satisfaction, averting my attention back to his face. "Pretty good," he complimented the coffee before taking another sip.

"The best," I hyped it up, almost halfway done with my own cup.

"I now understand why you come here so much," he commented in between sips before going back to our previous conversation. "So you used to work for a publishing company?"

"Interned," I clarified. "Not my finest moment, but hey — guess it just wasn't for me."

"Do you like the bookstore?"

He wanted to know if I liked working at the bookstore.

He wanted to know something about me.

"Yeah, I love it," I answered quickly, before I could over-think it any longer. Taking one last big sip, I almost slammed my cup on the table. "Done!"

"No fair," Austin whined, completely stunned. "They filled yours with a shit load of ice."

"Are you accusing me of cheating, Mr. Butt-ler?" I exaggerated the butt part again, absolutely cheesing my head off as I fucked around with him.

Not actually fucked.

Just joking.

Busted his balls a little.

Welp, that didn't sound any better. Anyways —

"Not that again." He blew out a breath, his gaze training upward as he tried to remove the curl off his forehead in frustration.

My hand suddenly tingled at my side, itching to reach out and touch him — to move the curl from his forehead. I momentarily wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked from here.

Jesus.

Focus, Rianne.

Maybe Sher was right. Maybe coffee was a drug. Maybe one of those peeps at Syd's office infected me or doused their addictive stimulants into my beverage.

Shoving my hand under my leg, I settled. "It's not my fault you nurse it like a baby."

"Maybe we should've ordered espresso shots," he suggested, ignoring my comment right as another server placed a plate of fries and gravy on the table for us. "Could be a hit for Levi's party though."

"Don't give me ideas now," I warned him, pointing a gravy covered fry in his direction accusingly to which he just smirked at me before munching on his own stick of potato — if you will.

A strange silence washed over us as we indulged in the plate, my mind suddenly feeling cloudy and heavy with every intrusive thought imaginable. For some reason, I couldn't comprehend the fact that I was here with him, in my favorite booth, sipping coffee and munching on fries — looking like this was a normal usual thing.

Something we did all the time.

Together.

The thought lingered with me for longer than I liked, burrowing itself deep into my insecurities and worries.

Warning me to flee.

Warning me not to get attached.

"Good, you're both eating." Sher was suddenly there, leaning an arm against the top of Austin's side of the booth observing us. "Everything good, my girl?" She asked me, going back to ignoring him once she was satisfied that he was being fed.

"Great," I forced out — my smile feeling robotic as I attempted to stretch it across my face.

Everything was fine, and now it just wasn't.

She sent a strange look my way, suspicion written all over her face as her eyes scanned back and forth between us. Sherry knew me well – well enough to know when something was up with me. Well enough to pick up my social cues in a heartbeat.

Before she could even let out a single word, my hand ventured into my tote bag searching for my wallet. "I probably should go." I told Austin, placing some cash on the table to contribute to my share.

"Wait – Take it back," he urged, pushing the cash back in my direction and then whipped out his credit card, trying to hand it over to Sher.

Not again.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my cash and shook it in front of Sher. "Who are you gonna side with on this one? The dude you just met or your girl?" I questioned her, narrowing my eyes as a test.

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Neither of you." She surprised us both. "On me. I'm not gonna wait and watch you two argue it out. I've got orders to take and shit to do." She raised her manicured hands up in surrender. "Goodbye."

And then she just disappeared – leaving us sitting there confused.

In a quick attempt to stop him from even thinking about paying for me, I left some cash on the table as a tip for Sher since she didn't leave us a receipt before decking out of there. I ball parked what I thought the price would be and hoped and prayed she just took it. If not, someone else would. Either way it would go to a place I appreciated.

Looking back, I watched him leave his own wad of cash – which was definitely too much money at this point for two coffees and some fries – before trailing behind me – his steps urgent. On the way out, I thought I lost him, but heard the bell above the door ring the moment I stopped at the corner looking both ways to cross.

Damn it.

Long legs stopped right next to me as I went to click the button for the crosswalk. "You're walking?" he asked, surprising me when he dropped the 'I'm paying-no-I'm paying' game.

Guessed it was settled — more than settled.

I sure as shit thought he was gonna say something along the lines of — "Just let me pay, Rianne," or "You'll get me back next time, Rianne" — just to get his way. Or maybe I was just thinking that because a part of my subconscious selfishly wanted to hear him say my name again. Wanted him to see me again. I already knew another part was already shutting that thought down — canning it in the trash bin of my brain.

You're gone.

Deleted.

"Yeah." I replied, squinting up at his tall frame against — what would soon be — a setting sun.

His golden locks shone in the light, complimenting the rays and his eyes looked even lighter — like a light blue sky reflecting off the ocean. Seeing him standing up gave me the opportunity to notice that he had on a pair of jeans and scruffed up brown boots — that looked like they'd seen better days — and now a black leather jacket.

"It's getting late," he muttered. "And the streets are gonna be packed with people and traffic now that rush hour is rolling around." Leaning against the post he finally ripped off the bandage. "Let me drive you home."

"Oh, so you do drive?" I teased, being a complete and total smartass.

"I was away for a while," he explained, pulling out a key from his pocket to drive his point further. Ha— drive? Car? Alright. Tough Crowd. Awful joke. "And I left it here, so it had to go into the shop for a check up when I came back. That's why I couldn't drive myself."

"Is it good? You sure it isn't gonna break down on us during the journey back home?" I asked suspiciously.

"I was in your friend La— Le— sorry, what is his name again?" His hand shot up to his head, his fingers massaging into his temples as if it was physically paining him to figure out what he was trying to say.

I knew not telling him would give me the upper hand, but watching him struggle started to pain me as well. "Levi."

"Levi. Right." He brushed his hand across his face just as he did in the diner. I wondered if it was a habit induced by stress. "I sat in his — no offense — pretty old car, and I let you drive me." He pointed out.

"True." I mean I couldn't deny the evident point he made. Levi's car was way passed the drinking age and probably even surpassed me by a few years — probably flirty and thirty. "No offense taken but, you didn't have much of a choice now, did you? And I wouldn't be driving this time, would I?"

"Well." He kicked off the pole, standing up straight. "No, but —"

I advanced towards him, so close I ruined the little line I mentally drew between us, my finger poking his chest.

"Exactly!" I stressed.

I won.

Two out of three.

Take that—Toothpick Umbrella Thief!

"Scared of losing control?" He quipped, biting on that ridiculous lip for the a millionth time today — seeming completely unphased by my close proximity and more amused by my evident aggravation.

"How do I know you're a safe driver?" I avoided his question, whispering like it was some sort of confidential secret. As if we weren't standing on a busy street in Los Angeles, but in a library with a librarian shushing us across the way.

"You'll just have to find out for yourself," he breathed, his face towering over mine — so close I could feel his breath fanning across my skin.

Too close.

I shouldn't have done that.

I pulled away.

"Thanks, but I walk all the time," I attempted to deny another one of his offers, staring up at the stupid light stuck on green — waiting for the damn thing to turn. "I'll be fine." I assured him, sending him a tight lipped smile as I pressed the button again, but with a bit more umpt this time.

He sent a funny look my way, before lifting up his sleeve and sniffing his arm. "Do I smell or something to you?" He asked in all seriousness, his nose scrunching up as he tried to figure it out. "Is that why you want to get away from me so bad? Cause if so, you can just tell me straight up." He joked.

If he meant smell good — yes, in fact he smelled so good, I found it really hard to concentrate. Which meant I needed to get as far away from him as possible.

But, I knew what he meant.

And he sure as shit did not smell bad at all.

"No." I let out a short laugh. "I already intruded on your booth, your work, and your late lunch. You should be sick of me at this point."

"I'm not sick of you," he said just as fast, proving to me that he was truly trying to say whatever would please me to get me right where he wanted me. "In fact. If I remember correctly, you have a shirt of mine that I have to get back from you. So it's a win-win — I drive you home, you give me the shirt." He stuck out his hand, initiating to shake on it. "Deal?

Fucking stubborn.

Taking a long hard breath, I let the steam shoot right out of my ears as I reached out and shook his hand. My body immediately caved once his warm hand engulfed my small one— our rings clanking together. My mind screamed at me to pull away, but —

"Deal."

Electric.

If it meant giving him his shirt back so I could finally live at peace in my own home — so be it.

——

it's the way i was cheesing like a total idiot while writing this chapter —smiling at typed words on a screen. anyways, hope you enjoyed <3 —xanadu

#austin butler #austin butler fandom #austin butler fans #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #wattpad #fanfic #fanfiction #downfallaustinbutler #DOWNFALL a.b.#austin butler fic #austin butler x oc #austin butler x ofc #austin butler x ofc rianne solace #benny cross

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sovaharbor · 1 year ago

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still thinking about the hellfire gala . spoilers obviously. this turned into a massive fucking rant LOL

quite frankly ive gone off before about how much i hate shock value writing because i consider it to be lazy and the utmost sign of a writer who doesn't know what they're fucking doing, and that's. exactly. what this felt like. like reading it just felt insulting honestly. like i won't pretend that i didn't expect the krakoan era to end. i KNEW at some point they'd either get rid of it completely or just fuck them over somehow and taint the whole thing. but like, this was just......too much. and it was awful. lol. i keep using that word because it really was.

like 1) the deaths were graphic in a way i would not have expected for mainline x-men honestly. like that was a step beneath x-force imo. and it felt so ... idk. mean???? like it just felt like a slap in the face, "lol your fave that you voted for has just been violently eviscerated on panel the immediate next page after you were told they'd be part of the most diverse mainline x-men team we've had in recent years" anD THEN ALL THE OTHER ONES AFTER????? BOBBY MELTING TO DEATH IN FRONT OF HIS BOYFRIEND???? JEAN A PILE OF BONES IN THE WRECKAGE???? FUCKED UP FOR LITERALLY NO REASON OTHER THAN SHOCK VALUE

2) most of the deaths could have been entirely preventable, some of them didnt even make SENSE. illyana was not the only mutant capable of teleportation in the entire fucking gala, why did jean not stop everything sooner, why was lourdes the only one who died to the gunfire, etc etc etc. i mean it's a suspension of disbelief that's just. lazy. lmfao. because you HAVE to suspend your disbelief to not imagine this going any other way that didn't end in a literal massacre.

3) there were multiple plot points within this that just had zero build-up and were just thrown in to make things work, so, again, Lazy Writing. and again, we're supposed to just Roll With It.

4) i can't explain how fucked up it is to give the minority allegory people their own safe place to live and then absolutely DUNK ON IT the way they did in this. the x-men deserve a break. mutants deserve a break. this was just uniquely awful and i cannot explain how GROSS it just feels to see it happen.

ALSO SPEAKING OF MINORITY ALLEGORY PEOPLE????? the way they handwaved kamala being a mutant is also very fucking lazy and if they're really going to commit to it she deserved something better than the explanation we were given. her death was similarly handwaved in a way i *personally* really hate , like that should be legitimately traumatizing to her, she's just a teenager, idc about her being a superhero. she just pops out of an egg, finds out she's apparently a mutant, and is just .... chill with it??? also emma saying she's going to erase the memories of her being dead from her parents' minds is INSANE??? EMMA AND CHARLES PRESSURING A BROWN GIRL INTO ""COMING OUT"" AS A MUTANT WHEN SHE'S ONLY JUST LEARNED SHE'S ONE AND DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HER POWERS ARE YET IS EVEN MORE INSANE AND SO SO SO WEIRD??????? LIKE DON'T YOU TWO HAVE JOBS, STOP IT

and like i don't know man! i don't know!!! i feel like none of this is very succinct and it's because i'm still SO upset over it but i legitimately was grossed out by this. it felt so awful to read. i had to force myself through the second half of it and i am pretty sure i had a mild panic attack over it. i don't understand how something like this could get continuously greenlit to the point of it going to print. it feels uniquely awful and if the krakoan era genuinely ends with another mutant genocide i really don't think i'm going to ever buy another marvel comic lol. or even if they somehow reverse said genocide, or it turns out it never actually happened, i still don't think i will honestly.

like granted i haven't read a ton outside of x-men stuff, but within the bubble of comics i have read, what other "group" of superheroes so routinely gets storylines that end with things like genocide and decimation and on-panel evisceration? the shock value in this is so disgusting and lazy and i don't even want to acknowledge it. there were such better ways to go about this and it's just disheartening to know they genuinely thought this was...a good idea? and i can't tell if they LEGITIMATELY thought it was good or if they thought the shock value -> everyone hates it -> "bad press is good press" pipeline was worth it... either option is not good, though. so idk.

there are parts of modern x-men i've really enjoyed, and i love the CONCEPT of krakoa, but i think the problem is you get a bunch of (usually) cishet white male culturally-christian writers trying to tackle the Minority Allegory™ characters and you end up with things like this. krakoa could have been so beautiful and meaningful if they weren't so liberal (and i mean this in a derogatory Democratic Liberal sort of way) with it. i wish we got more. i wish we got something better. and i'm not planning to read fall of x to be so for real, i'm gonna read About it like i have been ASM because i value my sanity much more than forcing myself to read awful garbage.

those are my thoughts, thank you!

edit: no actually one more thought. why the fuck was duggan so insistent on inserting kingpin into shit. why did he even matter. i don't give a fuck about kingpin i do't give a fuck about mary THIS IS THE X-MEN AND HE'S A FUCKING DAREDEVIL/SPIDER-MAN VILLAIN WHY ARE WE PAYING ANY AMOUNT OF ATTENTION TO HIM!!!! WHO FUCKING CARES!!!!!! WHY ARE WE WASTING DIALOGUE AND PAGE SPACE ON KINGPIN. WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH A HARD-ON FOR KINGPIN, DUGGAN. WHAT THE FUCK

#wednesday spoilers #summer's text tag

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thecoppercompendium · 5 months ago

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TTRPGs for Palestine – what I’m excited about

Image by Jes the Human (the amazing organiser of the bundle), used with permission

Earlier this month I made a post about the TTRPGs for Palestine itch.io bundle, saying I would make a proper post after I got back from the con I was attending. Well, it’s been a week since that con, and I’m back to make the proper post I promised!

Here’s the plan: I’m going to spend several hours going through as many games as I can in the bundle and picking out some that intrigue me (I wish I could talk about more but I am one mere human). Brace yourself, this is going to be a long post, in fact, multiple long posts.

I’m going through the bundle alphabetically – there’s a lot of games, so it’ll be a while before I reach the far end of the alphabet. One day I’ll reach Z…

Jump below the cut for the games, or go buy the bundle and come back after!

199X: SHUTDOWN by Thursday Garreau

The game is described on the itch page as “a retro-throwback cyberpunk microgame” and sees players as troubleshooters in an enclosed corporate city, lorded over by a mad AI. The flavour seems really interesting and I can’t wait to dig into its dystopian hellscape.

Find 199X: SHUTDOWN here.

5 Second Rule by Lucky Newt Games

This one sounds hilarious and a fantastic thinking-outside-the-box type game. The core concept is you play a superhero – with a catch. Your powers are limited to or by 5 seconds. You and a team of similarly-limited heroes must work together to make it through the training facility. This sounds like an absolute ball to play, cannot wait to grab some friends to give it a try.

Find 5 Second Rule here.

A Cold Wind and a Dark Sky by various authors

Not sure what kind of thing you want to play? A Cold Wind and a Dark Sky is a game anthology from a host of authors, featuring 31 entries created for #Promptober and the Minimalist TTRPG Jam. With how inventive the authors and prompts are, you’re sure to find a gem in here.

Find A Cold Wind and a Dark Sky here.

A Matter of Time by L Watson

Reading through the page for A Matter of Time sets a definite tone. There’s a playthrough excerpt, followed by a short passage before the page continues. I knew I’d be interested in this one before I made it halfway down the page. I’ll let the passage speak for itself:

There's something behind you in the mirror. Echoed footsteps just a bit too slow to be your own. Your fully charged phone dies as you go to take a photo. For every hasty justification and reassurance, something here is wrong. There's an animal instinct inside you on high alert, goosebumps trailed across your skin. Do you believe in ghosts? Are you sure?

I’m a sucker for horror, and this seems right up my alley. It’s designed as a two-player game, so I’ll be working out which of my friends would be most onboard with being scared shitless.

Find a Matter of Time here.

A Stitch in Time by Poorna Mazumdar and Armaan Babu

The itch page for this game is brief but what there is definitely caught my interest. It’s another two-player game, with players taking on the roles of chrono-stellar cartographers. The mechanic that caught my interest in particular was using letters to restore forgotten places. I’m always up for imaginative mechanics, and this fits the bill! Looking forward to digging in properly!

Find a Stitch in Time here.

ABOMINATIONS by Elliot Davis

Once again, I feel like the page sells the concept better than I ever could, so let’s start with a quote:

You are a Scientist. They tried to tell you to stop playing God. You replied, “Who’s playing?” and spliced in another gene.

In this GM-less game players embody the aforementioned scientists, splicing together their own abominations, then pitting your creation against others. I particular like the gene system included – it uses letter tiles, as in Bananagrams or Scrabble. Overall, this looks exactly my level of chaotic and I suspect I know some folks who this would be perfect for.

Find ABOMINATIONS here.

That’s all for now, folks! I’ll be back with some more from the bundle later!

#thecoppercompendium discussion #indie ttrpgs #ttrpg community #ttrpgs for palestine #itch.io #ttrpg #charity bundles

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mateidontevenknow · 2 years ago

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ONESHOT ALERT

Fandom: WWE

Ship: Roman Reigns x OC (Fem)

Ice cream makes everything better

Raina sat on a bench in Central Park. Like she usually did in her free time. It was enjoyable, sitting still and watching the people in New York going about their daily lives. Sometimes she'd see something interesting, other times she was merely there to think. To reflect on her life so far. She was only 32 after all.

It was 16:34 on a Tuesday. Her favorite day of the week. On Tuesdays, she had the entire day to herself. It became routine for her to sit in the park and do absolutely nothing.

She sat quietly, watching as people passed her. Until her eyes landed on someone specific. A large man sat on another bench, about 40 feet across from her. He sat with his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly. Immediately upon seeing him, her heart broke for him.

She saw herself on that bench, feeling alone despite being surrounded by people. She saw herself all those years ago when her life was crumbling. She saw herself wishing for someone, anyone to talk to. She knew exactly how this man felt. And she knew exactly how to help him.

This was definitely the first time that she's walked into an ice cream shop, with urgency. After buying two vanilla ice cream cones, each with flake, she made her way over to the man on the bench. She sat down next to him silently, waiting for him to notice her. Careful not to overwhelm him.

After a few seconds, he slowly looked up at her. She held out an ice cream offering it to him wordlessly. He took it, taking a bite of the flake, before shooting her a questioning look.

"Why?"

"You looked like you needed it."

He just nodded before continuing to eat his ice cream. They sat there for the next few minutes, silently eating their ice cream. When he finished he looked at her.

"Thank you for this. You were right, I needed it."

"No problem."

"I got to run, but I owe you an ice cream, same time next week?"

"Sure."

And just like that, he was gone.

Raina smiled, knowing he left in a better mood than he arrived. She checked her watch, at 16:39. It only took five minutes out of her life to make a difference in his. And she knew, she'd do the same next week and, if it came to it, the week after that and the week after that.

Her week passed quickly. And here she found herself again on the same bench as last week, at 16:34. She sat waiting for him.

And sure enough, he arrived with two ice cream cones in hand. He smiled when he saw her. He sat down next to her, offering her an ice cream just as she had done last week. She took it, just like he did.

"Hey, you look like you're doing better."

"I am, primarily because of you."

"I'm glad I could help. You know, you helped me as well."

"Are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No, you gave something. You gave me something to look forward to and I appreciate that. Also, you never gave me your name. I've been calling you Benchman in my head."

He snorted.

"That sounds like some kind of lame superhero. I wonder what superpower Benchman would have."

"I don't know, but I do know that his costume would look goofy as hell."

He laughed at the image.

"Well, my name is Roman. Yours?"

"Raina. Nice to meet you."

"You too. So what do you do?"

"You're gonna laugh, but it's fine. I work in a circus as a trapeze artist. I have a law degree but I'm ignoring it to do what I love. It's real cheesy."

"Wow, not what I was expecting. Do you travel a lot, for work?"

"I did but, the circus is staying in New York for now, so I settled down a bit."

"That's good to hear."

"What do you do?"

"Wrestling, I work in the WWE. I was pretty surprised when you didn't recognize me."

"Alright, Hotshot." Raina turned to look at him with a playful smirk on her face, "Sorry, I don't watch wrestling."

"Oh, don't start now. I've been on a bit of a losing streak recently."

"Shame, is that why you were so down last week?"

"Yeah, although I felt a little more than just 'down'. I hate to admit it, but I'm struggling at the moment to deal with the competition. Especially when I know I can do better."

"I get that, it's more of a mental game, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I got the physical part down, but the rest has taken quite a toll on me."

"I get that, it's all about confidence. I'm a performer and in my experience, the ups are amazing and the downs can kill you. My advice is to fix your ego before you try to fix anything else. You'll only win if you believe you can."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean if I don't believe, who else will?"

"Exactly. I don't watch wrestling and I know literally nothing about you or your skill level but, I believe in you, alright? Even if you don't."

Roman didn't respond as he slung his arm over Raina's shoulders, pulling her in for a side hug. A silent thanks.

"Raina, I don't why, but you are very easy to talk to."

"I know why."

"Uh-huh, care to share?"

"I'm a stranger. In other words, you can choose whether you care about my opinion and you can talk to me knowing that I'm not going to expose you to someone. It's not like I can."

"You're a stranger? Well, I'd like to change that. Same time next week?"

"Of course. I'll buy ice cream."

"Nice, see you then."

Roman gave her another side hug, before standing up and walking away.

Raina smiled just as she did last time, knowing that she, again, made a difference, just as she will next week and the week after. This week it took her six minutes. A little more than last week.

After the next couple of weeks, they became friends, speaking as if they'd known each other for decades. Their chats became longer and longer, the last one lasting for over two hours. Roman loved it and Raina refused to miss their appointments.

Raina still refused to watch WWE or anything wrestling-related. She claimed it would ruin the open air between them. Roman tried to pushed her to do it, but she shut him up with a quick remark.

"Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Popular?"

He hated that the answer was yes. But he stopped pushing, accepting that it would happen eventually and not wanting to expose himself.

The 18th week rolled around and the duo met up as usual, on the same bench in Central Park. After a few casual conversations, Roman opened up about a problem he had.

"I need a new apartment."

"What? Why?"

"The landlord decided to sell the building to a business, they are looking to turn it into office space, so I have to be out in three days."

"You know what's funny? My roommate just moved out, a few days ago, and I need a new one. You can come live with me if you want."

"You know, that would be fantastic. I'll stop by tomorrow if you give me an address."

"Of course, you can stop by any time, tomorrow's show was canceled."

And just like that the duo had slipped into the casual conversation again.

After Roman moved in, things changed. He learned very quickly how to fall into Raina's routine. They had figured out each other's love language and both of them used it to their advantage. She adored physical touch and he loved humor. Most mornings started with a hug and a laugh.

For the time being, their relationship status stayed at roommates, although they acted like an old married couple. Roman held back a lot, not wanting to ruin their friendship. He adored Raina and he wanted her as his own. He loved her and he was determined to make her feel the same. He started attending some of the shows she performed at and he loved every second of it.

After a particular show, Raina realized that the arena she performed at was hosting a WWE match after the show. Monday Night Raw. Her friend, Lee, ended up convincing her to go, especially after their director had gotten them front-row seats, as a reward after the show. Raina was more excited than she should have been.

After a brief explanation of the rules, Raina was ready. She enjoyed the first few matches, it was the women's division. She did a quick Google search on the women as they entered and she came to the conclusion that her favorite was Rhea Ripley. After they were finished, the men's division rocked up.

The first few matches were pretty exciting, but the fans only seemed to care about the last match of the night. It was the Grand Finale and she was ready. She was ready until she saw Roman enter the ring.

She gasped as she turned to Lee, "Lee, you know my new roommate, the one I was telling you about?"

"Yeah, Benchman."

"That's him. The guy with the long hair."

"Oh shit."

He was up against a giant, Brock Lesnar, and Raina was worried. The bell rang, signaling the start of the match. The two wrestlers ran at each other, starting the fight. After a few punches and shoves, Roman landed a German suplex on Brock, but Lesnar returned the favor almost immediately. The two traded a few hits before Brock had Roman in a corner.

Raina watched as Brock landed a big right hook. Roman kicked him in the stomach before climbing up onto the second turnbuckle and landing a beautiful missile dropkick. The match seemed to be going in Roman's favor, but Brock Lesnar had other things planned. After a few minutes, Brock was in control.

Roman was in trouble as he lay in the middle of the ring, on his back. His chest was raising and falling rapidly, as he tried to catch his breath. Lesnar did not allow that as he stepped on Roman's stomach. Roman swept his feet out from under him, making him fall to the ground. Roman quickly trapped him in a roll-up. The referee slammed his hand on the canvas.

One. Two. Three.

The crowd roared as Roman stole the win. But Brock wasn't taking it well as he attacked Roman. Roman refrained from fighting back as it would land him in trouble. Brock didn't seem to care about that.

Brock kicked Roman in the ribs, and a sickening crack echoed through the arena. Brock took Roman's arm, bending it in impossible positions. Damn near breaking it. Officials rushed out from backstage, but Raina knew they wouldn't be there in time.

Roman was trapped against the corner closest to Raina. Brock delivered a punch to his stomach.

Raina snapped.

She jumped over the barricade and hopped onto the apron. She launched herself from the top rope, aiming for Brock. She nailed him right in the head with a dropkick, both of her boots, hitting him in the side of the head. Brock landed hard, his head hitting the canvas with a thud.

The silence in the arena was deafening.

Brock was out cold. Raina wasted no time in getting Roman out of the ring. He was limping, clutching his ribs while blood dripped from his nose.

"A mystery woman from the crowd just saved Reigns!"

"With a fantastic dropkick as well, Brock Lesnar looks to be unconscious."

Raina could barely hear the commentators as she supported Roman, leading him through the crowd. The crowd understood, making an opening for them to pass.

By the time they made it to Raina's car, she was supporting most of Roman's weight. She lowered him into the front seat, before racing off toward the hospital.

Roman's injuries justified Raina's actions completely. He had two broken ribs, a broken nose, and a mild concussion. Raina was livid and ready to kill Brock Lesnar, who received a concussion from her dropkick. But she knew, now wasn't the time. At the moment, Roman needed her.

And at the moment the doctors needed someone to give instructions to. A female doctor pulled Raina aside.

"Hello, I am Dr. Manning and I have been assigned to the treatment of Mr. Reigns. Are you family?"

"No, I'm his roommate, but his family is not in the States. So if you need someone to discuss his health with, I'm your best bet."

"Alright, can I get your name?"

"Raina, Raina Lessing."

She scribbled it down on her clipboard.

"Well, Mr. Reigns has two broken ribs, a broken nose, a sprained wrist, and a mild concussion. You made the right call bringing him here. His broken ribs were very close to puncturing his lungs, so we fixed that in emergency surgery. His ribs and nose will have to heal on their own, there's not much we can do about that. I'll give you the necessary treatment plan shortly. His concussion should be resolved in 10 to 14 days, come back if he still has problems with that. I just need to know, what does his exercise routine look like?"

"He is very active, he goes to the gym every morning for both cardio and strength training. He works as a professional wrestler so he spends most of his time training."

"Ok. Well, that will need to stop for a few weeks. He needs rest and a lot of it. Don't allow him to put stress on his injuries. Especially not while his concussion is healing. If you would follow me to my office, I can give you that treatment plan."

Raina followed her, nodding at the information.

"Thank you, Dr. Manning. Will his Health Insurance cover everything?"

"Yes, that has been handled already."

"Thank you, when can I see him?"

She stopped to hand Raina some papers, the treatment plans, before answering her.

"You can go now if you'd like, he is in room 167, second floor. He was awake earlier, but his body needs rest. If he is asleep, please don't wake him."

"Thanks again, Dr. Manning."

She was off toward the elevator, with an urgency in her step. Once she made it to Room 167, she stood in the doorway. There she saw Roman, in a hospital bed with a bruised face. Something tugged at her heartstrings as she watched him.

Her phone vibrated against her leg, purring softly. Raina looked at the caller ID, it was Lee. She decided to answer.

"Hey, Lee, what's up?"

"What's up with you? The last time I saw you, you gave Brock Lesnar a concussion and disappeared with your roommate. What's going on?"

"Well, I took him to the hospital, that's where I am now. He was injured pretty bad, I'm talking like broken ribs and a broken nose. I'm sorry I didn't call again but the doctors kept me busy."

"You love him, don't you?"

"What?"

"Oh come on, even I can see it. You wouldn't jump into a wrestling ring and kick a guy twice your size in the head for anyone, would you? You love Benchman. You wouldn't be meeting him every week if you didn't. And you sure as shit wouldn't have asked him to be your roommate. You hate roommates."

"You know I hate it when you're right."

"I know, so I'm gonna hang up now so you can take care of your man."

The call ended, leaving Raina alone in the room with Roman. She sat down in the chair next to him, still watching him closely. She sat there for hours, staring at him. A nurse came in once or twice to check up on him, but she stayed, sitting there stoically.

She felt her heart breaking as the hours passed. She hated seeing him like this, so vulnerable. Seemingly helpless. He was one of the strongest people she knew and to see him like this, made her want to cry.

After a while Dr. Manning returned.

"Ms. Lessing, you've been in the hospital for 21 hours now. I am going to have to ask you to leave, for your own health."

"I can't just leave him here alone."

"He is not alone, two nurses have been assigned to his care and at the moment, we are more worried about you. You need to eat, you've been sitting there for way too long. Your body needs rest."

"I'm not leaving him here."

"Ms. Lessing, I understand your worry, but you are my priority at the moment. At least go buy yourself some food at the kiosk downstairs."

Raina sighed before standing up.

"Alright, but I'm coming right back."

Raina looked at Roman one last time before walking out the door.

Raina practically sprinted down the hall and stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. She bought a sandwich and a bottle of water. She ate as quickly as she could, not wanting to waste a second. She decided to drive back to the apartment to fetch Roman some clothes. And in 20 minutes she was back in Room 167, sitting in the same plastic chair.

After another few hours, Roman stirred. Raina perked up. He opened his eyes slowly, still getting used to the bright lights in the room. He smiled when he sat her next to the bed.

"Hey, Ray."

"Hi."

"What time is it?"

"It's one in the morning, oh and it's Wednesday."

"Oh shit, how long have you been sitting here?"

"Too long."

"Raina. How long?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll go get the doctor."

Raina went to find Dr. Manning, fleeing for Roman's questions. Dr. Manning was already on her way to Roman as Raina found her in the hallway.

"Dr. Manning, he is awake."

"Good, I need to have a private conversation with him and then he will be discharged. You can sit in the kiosk while you wait."

Raina nodded before heading towards the elevator.

Roman waited patiently for Dr. Manning. And she arrived soon after Raina's departure.

"Hello, Mr. Reigns. I'm glad you are awake. How are you feeling?"

"Alright. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"How long was Raina sitting here? She wouldn't tell me."

"About 25 hours. We tried to get her to go home, but she refused. She didn't want to leave you alone. I convinced her to go downstairs to buy herself food and get you some clothes but after 20 minutes, she was back. You are very lucky to have a friend like her."

"I know. Did she tell you what happened? Why I'm here?"

"No, she did mention your profession though. Wrestling is quite an interesting one."

"Well, Monday night I won a championship title, but my opponent was not happy. He attacked me after the match and I was just too tired to fight back. Raina, I didn't even know she was there, but she jumped into the ring and kicked the guy in the head to protect me. He was twice her size, but she didn't care, she knocked him out. Then she drove me here. I'm very lucky to have her."

"I am glad you are aware. I gave her your treatment plans for when you get home. And I can tell you, that you have been discharged. You are free to go. Ms. Lessing is waiting for you in the kiosk downstairs."

"Thank you, Dr. Manning."

A nurse pulled the IV out of his arm, applying a band-aid to the spot. Roman was a little shaky as he stood up. He grabbed the backpack that Raina left on the chair and looked inside. There was a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt, and his favorite black hoodie.

"There is a bathroom down the hall to your right. The elevator is just a little further."

"Thank you."

Roman stepped out of the elevator to find Raina sitting at a table near the kiosk. He walked towards her, paying attention to her state.

She looked tired, with dark circles around her eyes. Her eyes threatened to fall shut any second. Her head was being supported by her arms, too heavy to sit upright. Her mouth was slightly open as she stared ahead of her. She looked like she was about to fall asleep in her chair.

Roman walked up behind her before snatching the car keys of the table.

"I'm driving, you look like you are about to fall asleep."

She stood up out of her chair and wrapped him up in a hug, careful not to press on his ribs.

"Thanks."

Raina picked up her phone and bag before making her way out of the building, Roman following close behind. She led him toward the car, helping him into the driver's seat, before ducking in next to him. Roman started the car.

"Sorry, your car is still at the arena."

"Don't apologize. At this moment you have literally nothing to apologize for."

"There is one thing."

"And what is that?"

"I'm sorry for not kicking him harder."

Roman laughed, his hand landed on Raina's thigh.

"Well, you knocked him out so I'd say it was hard enough. Thank you for that. It was pretty impressive."

Her hand sat on top of his as he drove them to their apartment. Raina nearly fell asleep. Roman parked in their garage, handing the keys to Raina afterwards.

Raina opened to door to their apartment and just as she was about to walk away from him, Roman wrapped her up in a hug. The tightest hug he could manage.

"Thank you."

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Raina hummed in acknowledgement before breaking away from the hug.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

"You're acting like I'm the one who stayed awake for more than 41 hours."

"You're the one with the broken ribs though."

Roman sighed before allowing Raina to lead him to his bedroom. She helped him take off his hoodie before letting him lie down. She moved to switch off the light, headed for her own room.

"Ray, will you do me a favor?"

"Yeah."

"Will you sleep here tonight, with me?"

Raina hesitated.

"Alright."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I know, but I want to. I'm just going to go change."

Roman was left in the dark as she went to her room. He curled himself up in the covers as he waited for her. He didn't know why he asked her that, but he was glad he did. He was even more glad that she agreed. After the hospital trip, he knew she loved him. And he loved her.

She climbed into his bed, next to him. She was in a sports bra and some shorts. He pulled her cold body closer to him, her back against his chest. He gently took her hand, draping his arm over her in the process. He whispered to her as she drifted off, not expecting the faint response he got.

"I love you."

"Love you too..."

#roman reigns #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe oneshot #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns fluff #why am i like this

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brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics · 2 years ago

Text

Fanfic - Marks Upon the World

Marks Upon the World (Ao3)

When Danny, Tucker, and Sam decided to make a stupid meme song, the last thing they expected to do was to get popular.

They were fully aware it might lead to a ghost attack, but that's just the norm.

That wasn't what they got though.

"So, what are you all planning on doing with all the money?" Tucker asked over the comms. His voice was staticky due to all the interference in the Ghost Zone. The giant rocks of ectoplasm making an asteroid field they were in wasn’t helping things, either. It took Danny a moment for him to parse the question and before he could ask what money, Tucker had continued, "I'm thinking personal VR arcade. Right in my basement."

"Tucker," Sam interrupted, "you don't have a basement." As if that were the problem with his idea, not the money.

"I'm going to add one." Tucker chuckled.

"One, do you have any idea how expensive that is?" Sam responded. "Two, I don't think your parents are gonna let you do that."

"It'll be fine," Tucker dismissed. "My parents were planning on selling the house after high school anyways. They wanted to move somewhere warmer and retire now that I'm almost done with high school. I'll buy the house, bum off your couch for a few months while we rebuild it, and then bam," his point was punctuated by him hitting something, probably the dash of the Specter Speeder, "personal VR arcade."

Danny scoffed into the silence that followed. "Dude, I can't imagine we're making that much money off one meme song."

There was a pause on the other end of the comms, which Danny took as a sign that Tucker had come down to Earth, but then Sam shouted, "Oh my God! That can't be right!"

"Nope, completely. And this is in four weeks! It's been gaining speed! Not only that, but I took a bit of a gamble and started selling merch. The Danny plushies have been selling like hotcakes!"

Danny paused in his flight and looked back across the Ghost Zone at the Specter Speeder, "The Danny what?"

"Danny plushies! They're like your ghost form but tiny. There are a couple of variations, but they all have big eyes and posable arms. And! We have a back order of them. Our supplier is currently trying to find another company to subcontract to, but the stipulations on the contract are slowing that down."

That was not the answer Danny wanted to hear.

"Tucker…" Sam began, "how long have you been selling these? Cause now I remember a few of the comments being something like, 'I can't believe someone made a song for those dolls'..."

Danny took a deep (though as a ghost, it wasn't real) breath and pinched his nose. That was also something he didn't want to hear.

"A while… like, a year? But yeah, people love 'em," Tucker continued. Danny was pretty sure he was taking psychic damage from this conversation. "So yeah, the video has made us about 400k each, and the merch sales is close to a 25k split each." There was a pause, and Danny assumed it was because Tucker was shrugging. "Should be enough for the down payment at minimum, and with you two helping footing the mortgage, we should be able to make the changes we want when you two move in."

"Excuse me?" Sam sneered. "Why would I move in with you?"

"Because Danny is going to, and the second you no longer have to live in your parents’ house, you're going to dip. And with the three of us living together, you and I can pay for Danny, and we can pretend Danny is making money off his parents' inventions. Easy excuse as to why Danny won't have a job."

Danny took that moment to chime back into the conversation. "Why wouldn't I have a job?"

"Because you're a superhero? Dude, it's already a problem at school, but you think even the Nasty Burger is gonna let you get away when you dip ��cause a ghost showed up?"

Danny paused and thought about it. "Oh…" That was going to kill a lot of his job prospects.

Sam sighed. "For the record, I'm only mad 'cause you were assuming I was going to move in with you." She sighed again. "But… you're absolutely right. When you put it like that, it's absolutely what we're gonna do."

"Alright, well with that out of the way, what are you guys gonna spend the money on?"

Danny opened his mouth to make a quip about lawyers and trademarking his likeness, but before he could, he felt his breath get forced out of his body. The icy cold wisp that came out of his lungs and throat fogged the air in front of him, and he sighed. "Probably more weapons… I got incoming."

Sam or Tucker started responding, but he couldn't hear them over the scream of "Phantom!"

Danny looked up just in time to see Ember flying at him at full speed. By the time he had processed that ‘no, of course she’s not friendly’, it was too late to react. Ember collided with him in a full-body tackle that if he were human probably would have bisected him completely.

"I hate you!" she screamed right into his ear as she took the two of them flying across the zone. The crackle of her flaming hair drowned out anything else. The impact of stone only served to knock what little breath he thought he should have out of his lungs as Ember continued to drag him through several floating rocks. One, a second, and then a third, then she finally let go. Leaving him flying before he crashed into a fourth.

Danny blinked as he regained his bearings, half-buried in the ectoplasmic rock. He wasn't a stranger to people screaming about how they hated him — though that was usually reserved by his parents — but he wasn't normally accustomed to them crying while doing so.

With a heave, he pulled himself out of the asteroid. Ember wiped her tears and started growling as her hair flared up. There was a moment of stillness as he took in her appearance; she lacked a lot of the haughtiness that she usually carried, tall and proud of who she was. That wasn’t her right now; she was hunched over, angry and sad…. Mostly angry.

Danny wasn’t sure what was going on, but his gut (which he had learned to trust over years of heroing) told him it wasn’t a good idea to get the calvary to come charging in yet. Danny quickly reached up and activated the com link. "Guys, hang back-"

He didn't get a chance to explain himself as Ember charged him again. Without the advantage of flying at him at somewhere around 115 mph at his unsuspecting back, he was able to defend himself much better.

Much better than he really should have…

She wasn't throwing ectoblasts or using her guitar to fire off shockwaves. Instead, she was throwing punches and kicks. Ember was not a physical combatant, compared to Danny, who had to be one (with Skulker swinging that giant skinning knife around).

Compared to that, this was easy.

Though not easy enough to be distracted, he thought as she reached up and tried to claw at him. He continued to dodge wild grasping swings and saw Sam and Tucker flying up to the two of them. He looked Ember in the eyes, still filled with tears, and bit his lip. This is either gonna make her kill me harder, or it's gonna stop the fight…

The next time one of her telegraphed punches came flying, he ducked under her arm and got behind her. "What the!" gasped out of her mouth before he wrapped her in a hug. "What the- what the hell are you doing, dipstick!"

Ember continued to whirl around and try to hit Danny, but he kept himself pinned to her back. As a ghost, she probably could have contorted her body in some ungodly way, but like most ghosts, they avoided doing that.

“Let go of me!” Ember screamed. “Or I’m gonna kill you deader!”

“On account of you trying to rip my head off, I’m going to say no.”

Which of course served to just piss her off more. She continued to swing the two of them around, desperate to try and get out of his grip. It took an entire minute before Ember finally calmed down and stopped trying to hit Danny, but he still refused to let go. Especially when the fight left Ember and she started sobbing.

Having heard the fighting stop, Sam and Tucker pulled the Specter Speeder up next to the two of them. Their weapons were primed to save Danny if the fight had gone south, but seeing Danny holding Ember in his arms as she sobbed made them put them away.

Danny understood Tucker priming the weapons of the Specter Speeder, but seeing Sam putting her pistol away made him wonder if she was gonna hang out the door and shoot as Tucker flew by.

Sam made her way to the door of the Specter Speeder and opened it. “What’s going on?” she asked tentatively and thankfully clearly (they really needed to update the Fenton Phones to work better this deep in the zone).

Ember sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “Your stupid theme song...”

“My… what?” Of all the things for Ember to declare her hatred of him for, that hadn’t been it.

“You know… that stupid song you guys put out?” Ember growled. “It’s… it’s popular!”

Danny let go of Ember (probably stupidly) and floated a few feet away from her. “Why does that matter?”

“Why does it matter?” Ember screeched. She whirled on Danny, and he saw Sam reach for her gun, but then Ember calmed down. She paused and looked up for a while, unnaturally still, before she sighed. “I don’t want to explain this. It’ll be easier to show you. Come on.” With that, she started flying off into the ether of the Ghost Zone.

Danny blinked and looked at Sam. The two of them shrugged, and Danny flew after Ember as Sam closed the door to the Specter Speeder.

Ember flew through the Ghost Zone at full speed. Danny was barely gaining on her, and the Specter Speeder was slowly losing ground. They blazed through the Ghost Zone, flying through uncharted (to him at least) space. The further they flew, the more nervous Danny should have gotten.

Should have.

Instead of the fear and excitement they usually got when going through unexplored territory, Danny felt something else. It felt like when you were getting ready for bed after a long productive day, but you knew you had more to do tomorrow. Restful and content, yet stressed.

Danny was in the middle of trying to process that when he noticed that Ember had stopped, apparently reaching their destination.

When Danny got close, he stopped immediately. “Ember…” his voice came out as a whisper, “What the fuck is that?”

Ember tilted her head and looked at him, a sad smile on her face. “I think you know… don’t you?” She turned back and ran her hand over the metal of what was in front of them.

It was a metal hexagon. From inside edge to inside edge, it was about 15 feet across, which would be plenty of room for the Specter Speeder to fly through. The metal edges were about 4 feet wide, and though the inside of the circle was pitch black, Danny was sure that if he could see what was inside it, there would be a slowly closing corridor about 12 feet deep.

He died in it, after all. You didn’t just forget what that looked like.

Ember took his silence to be confirmation. “It’s your lair Baby-Pop…” she said, running her hands along the metal. “We’re lucky. Most ghosts… never find their lairs, or if they do, it’s long after they’ve forgotten anything about themselves. These are called the infinite realms, after all.”

Ember walked across thin air to stand in front of the portal. The pure inky blackness made her stand out as she folded her arms. “There’s nothing saying we don’t wake up near our lairs.”

Danny swallowed. That nervousness he felt approaching only grew stronger this close to his lair. “You mean… ghosts don’t wake up in their lair?”

“No…” Ember said, a melancholy tainting her voice. “We don’t.” She looked up as Sam and Tucker approached in the speeder. She sighed and turned. “Come on…” She glanced at Danny once before stepping into the black.

As she passed through, the edges of the black void in the center of this fake portal lit up, giving off a corona of fire and light for the brief second she passed through. Danny reached up and stuck his hand in, feeling no resistance as his hand pierced the veil. The moment his hand passed through, the edges lit up again, staying alight as he kept his arm in.

He took a deep breath and pushed through.

And immediately, his breath was stolen from him as the pure blackness gave way to a star-studded sky. Not just that, but what was quite clearly the International Space Station sat in front of him, where Ember sat on one of its solar arrays. Danny flew over to her. “Okay, this is officially one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen, but why are we here?”

Ember stood up. “Almost there, just follow me,” she said. “Tell your friends to stay put when they enter. They’d probably be fine, but Imma go ahead and guess you don’t want them crashing and breaking your ship.”

And with that cryptic statement, Ember started flying off again. Danny scrambled to repeat what Ember said to Sam and Tucker as the Specter Speeder made its way into his lair.

He’d deal with the fact that he was dead enough to have a lair later.

He and Ember flew through the night sky of his lair, but this time it was a much shorter trip. Only fifteen seconds or so at their top speeds. When Ember stopped, Danny slowed till he was next to her, and he realized something.

The stars in his night sky weren’t stars. They were names.

The names were inscribed on a solid black wall, and when he touched it, he could feel the curve of the wall, giving him the idea that his lair wasn’t an endless void but actually a sphere with the ISS in the center of it.

“This is what every artist wants, Phantom,” Ember whispered, running her finger along one of the names. Danny didn’t recognize the name at all; it was no one he knew. He quickly activated the comlink in his ear and switched the input to local mode, letting Sam and Tucker listen in as well. “When we create, the thing we create connects us, across time, across space, across lives…”

Ember’s hand dropped to her side. “When people sing our songs or tribute our work… when we touch them with our arts… their name gets inscribed into our lairs. A reminder that we are still affecting the world, that we had lived.” Her voice dropped. “It can’t just be a passing thing, something that you really connect with.”

Danny looked at each of the names inscribed in his lair, thousands, maybe even millions, of all various hues and brightnesses, and uttered in awe, “This many people cared about my stupid song?”

“Yes!” Ember hissed, and Danny jumped to move away from her, though she didn’t attack. “Your stupid song that you don’t even care about is something so many people love! I hate you so much right now!”

Danny frowned and folded his arms. “Why do you care so much? You’ve got to have like… billions of names in your lair, right?”

“How many fucking people remembered I even had a goddamn concert after your friend ruined it? Have you seen anyone with my merch afterward?” Danny blinked. Thinking about it, he couldn’t remember anyone walking around with Ember merch after the concert. At the time, he chalked that up to people losing interest after Tucker ruined her concert. But… no one mentioned Ember again, even though logically, there should have been something, even if it had been something like, ‘Did you see what happened during the concert?’

It was like they had completely forgotten she existed.

Ember pounded her fist against the wall, though it made barely any noise, sounding more like someone smacking a cornstarch and water mixture than a solid wall. “The only goddamn name I have in my lair is Tucker Foley, and it’s carved into the goddamn toilet!”

The bark of laughter from Sam came through before it was quickly cut off, and Danny was reminded that the default setting for “local” mode meant the output was also broadcast to the nearby area. Ember snapped her head toward the Specter Speeder and snarled.

Sam had the right idea and didn’t antagonize the ghost that had almost conquered the world at one point, she stopped laughing and got quiet. Tucker on the other hand…

“So, wait, I’m the only one who’s name is in your lair? Does that make us like, ghostly soulmates?”

"Not on your fucking afterlife!" Ember screeched, drawing more power than Danny had ever seen from her without her guitar. Her hand lit up with ectoplasm, outshining all the nearby stars.

Danny knew the look in Ember’s eyes. “Please don’t…” he begged, knowing that it would literally do nothing.

Ember responded by throwing an ectoblast at the Specter Speeder. Tucker let out a rather inglorious scream as the beam flew past Danny right at the vehicle. Danny turned, ready to do something when the beam destroyed their transport.

But he didn’t need to.

The beam curved at the last second, bending out of its path like it was circling a black hole. Danny’s brow furrowed as he wondered why Ember had pulled back, but she clicked her teeth. “Figures, you’re such a goody two shoes…”

“What do you mean?” Danny asked despite himself.

Ember huffed and waved her arms about. “There’s a reason why every ghost in Amity Park knows where your lair is, your lair prevents anyone from being harmed in it. It’s the perfect neutral ground.” She hummed and gave Danny an appraising look. “Your lair fufills your need to keep people safe… but there’s no one in it for you to keep safe.”

A chill ran down Danny’s spine. The way Ember phrased that… did he have an obsession? One that was driving him to protect people? On the surface, that sounded like a good thing… If Sam and Tucker were in danger and in the area, they could make their way to the safety of his lair.

But what if they got there, and his lair didn’t think it was safe for them to go out?

Would it trap them here?

Ember shifted, snapping Danny out of his thoughts. He watched her reach up and gently stroke the names along the wall of his lair. The motion was so soft and gentle that for a moment, Danny forgot that it was one of his enemies here.

It seemed she forgot that he was there too, because she turned and when their eyes met, she jumped. The look on her face made Danny’s breathing hitch. Her face had been filled with so much longing before it was replaced with a sneer. She scoffed and brushed her hair away from her face. “Whatever,” she snapped, “enjoy your fucking fame.”

Danny felt power rise in Ember, and he only had a second to react when he realized what she was doing. “Hey, wait!” he shouted, only to get pushed back as fire sprouted around Ember and burned away immediately, taking her with it as she teleported.

And for a few heartbeats, all Danny could do was sit there and stare at the names written in his lair.

The moment was broken by an alarm going off. “Ah, jeez!” Tucker shouted. “Danny! We got to book it! Your parents are gonna be home in thirty minutes, and we’re WAY farther from the portal than we’ve ever been!”

Danny gasped as Tucker turned the Specter Speeder around, dove inside the vehicle, and hoped the auto-mapping software in there could plot a way back home without going through any asteroid fields this time.

***

After a very tense 3 minutes of scrambling to get the ghost-hunting gear back into place, Danny had completely forgotten about what had happened with Ember. It was hard to worry about what had happened when he was worrying about what he was going to be doing the next minute.

But at 12:01 at night, Danny sat on his bed, finally able to actually decompress and think about what had happened.

He knew ghosts got a lair in the Ghost Zone when they died – he had read enough of his parents’ papers on the subject to know that much at least. He also knew that they were supposed to help a ghost sustain their obsession.

And he was dead enough to get a lair himself, and it actively protected people in it.

He had worried for a long time if he had an obsession. If he was only alive because some drive to do something was sustaining him.

Danny took a deep breath and put his fingers on the pulse point of his neck, and he counted the slow (too slow) beats and tried to think of better thoughts.

It wasn’t long until the image of his lair flooded his brain again, filled with a million stars.

Stars that Ember wanted.

Slowly he sat up and made his way over to his closet. It was an absolute mess. Too many instances of throwing stuff in there when his parents got on his case about the state of his room and never took any actual care to clean it. He never really needed to. He could just reach in and rummage around with his intangibility to find what he needed.

Though he wasn’t looking for something in his closet right now.

On the other side of the wall was Jazz’s closet.

He reached through and rummaged around in her closet, trying to find something that should have been there, assuming she hadn’t remembered to throw it out.

It was still there.

Pulling his arm back, he came back holding a guitar. The body had a flame pattern on it and was colored in Ember’s colors. Danny ran his fingers along the neck and came back with a literal pile of dust on them. He shook off the dust before clumsily plucking at the strings.

He wasn’t exactly a musician, but he knew enough to tell when something was out of tune.

This guitar had been sitting there, completely forgotten, at the back of Jazz’s closet for over two years, gathering nothing but dust.

His phone buzzed, and he jumped. It buzzed a second time, and he realized it wasn’t a text but a phone call. He reached over and grabbed it. A glance at the name had him answering. “Hey, Sam,” he whispered, careful not to accidentally wake anyone.

“Hey,” she whispered back. Her hushed tones made this feel like something illicit and made his heart race. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” He chuckled and sat down on his bed. “I want to speak with whoever said, ‘I can sleep when I’m dead,’ 'cause they lied to me.”

Sam chuckled back at his stupid joke. “Good, I’m glad… I wanted someone to talk to.”

“And you called me at midnight?”

“Why would I call anyone else?” Sam laughed, though it quickly died. “I just… I dunno. I feel bad.”

“Ember?” Danny asked, needlessly clarifying.

“Mhmm…” Sam murmured into the phone. There was a rustle on the other side of the phone, probably her rolling over. “It’s… I’ve thought about it, you know? What kind of mark I’m gonna leave on the world.” She chuckled dryly. “It’s hard not to when we’re facing death all the time, right?”

Danny nodded instinctively. “Right,” he agreed. Though he had his own thoughts on the matter. “I personally try to avoid thinking about my mortality." He chuckled despite himself as he made his hand light up with ectoplasm. "I’ve been getting a lot of answers I don’t want lately.”

“Sorry,” Sam responded quickly. The word was terse, but her tone was somber.

“Don’t be. Not your fault.”

“It is, and you know it,” Sam responded immediately. Danny opened his mouth to disagree, but she sighed. “I don’t want to have that argument again. I…” She trailed off. “I don’t know what. I’m sitting here, feeling bad about Ember, and I don’t like sitting.

“I get that, I do…” Danny paused and looked down at his sister’s guitar. “I really do. But… what can we do?”

“Maybe…” Sam began but then trailed off. “I dunno. We could… we could do it ourselves… You know, sing Ember’s song… Remember? I think that’s what it was called. I dunno, I never got one of her CD’s.”

Danny thought for a second. “Tucker might still have it… he doesn’t like deleting anything. Gives him an excuse to buy another hard drive.”

“Think he’s up right now?”

“Nah,” Danny said, shaking his head. “He probably crashed the moment he went home.”

“Ugh, fine, we can call him tomorrow,” Sam said, actually sounding annoyed. She huffed, and there was a rustle again as she rolled around in her bed. “I guess I should let you sleep, too, huh?”

“Let’s not be too hasty.” He paused and looked down at the guitar in his lap. "Hey, Sam? Can you teach me how to play guitar?"

***

Weeks later, Ember awoke in her lair with a start. The crowds in it, that she could never find or play for, cheered wildly. Their screams shook the couch she was using as a bed.

But over all that, she could hear the sound of wood being carved.

Ember scrambled, throwing off the blanket as she snapped out of that in-between state of awareness and non-existence. Her eyes flitted across the walls, trying to find the change in her lair.

There.

Right above where she laid her head, in bright gold lettering.

Danny "Phantom" Fenton.

Samantha "Sam" Manson.

She ran her fingers over the names, echos of the two of them singing her song. Really singing it. Putting their heart and soul into it. She closed her eyes and let the feeling take her, letting her see when and where this was sung.

She smiled as she saw them singing and filming a music video. They used Phantom's lair as the backdrop.

Tucker had been there too, filming them and helping edit the video before posting it.

Where others would hear her song too.

Maybe it'd touch them too.

Ember took a step back and looked over the writing another time, and smiled.

She'd have to do something nice for them sometime soon.

#phic phight 2023 #fanfic #san manson #tucker foley #ember mclain #danny fenton

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