#SORRY TO THE REST OF THE SPANISH FANS THAT DID NOTHING WRONG

[eternalglitch]

Hi, how are you! This is my clumsy attempt to reach you #3 (or #4, I'm not sure) :) I hope I don't bother you! I just want to politely ask for your permission to translate the LFLS chapters that are not yet translated into Spanish. I know this great fic isn't finished yet and I'm not trying to pressure you into doing it. I just would love for the Spanish-speaking community to have the opportunity to read this masterpiece. Not all of us are fluent in English and spreading high-quality content could potentially help a resurgence of ROTTMNT :) I hope you can consider it. Thank you!

If you translate it on ao3 and link it to my fic, that is an acceptable method for me! I prefer it to stay on ao3, though.

[after-lauhgter]

I can't type I meant top 5 songs in the Paramore ask lol

But your answer was really interesting (does this sound bad? I mean it super positively)

hahaa i loved talking about random sounds so thank you! sounds are cool!

naming my top 5 songs (I’m assuming not paramore but in general?) is actually kinda hard at the moment, i haven’t thought about it in a while. but I’ll try:

(the order doesn’t matter)

So the first one that immediately comes to mind is spanish sahara by foals, without a doubt my favorite song of all time. for a long time it was the only foals song I knew but I went to see them play anyway, bc there was a small chance they might play the song and I was sure hearing it live would change my entire life. and it kinda did I guess. when they played the first note (the song starts really slow) i already fucking cried like the loser I am haha and I think about this show at least once a week although it’s been quiet a while since I was there. And after that I listened to the rest of their stuff and now I’m quiet the foals fan! and the fuckikg bridge in this song. Oh boy. the guitar playing that melody the first time and then again with the harmony, I’m sure that is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.

Another great one is jesus christ by brand new. According to a site that shows you your Spotify stats, it’s my most played song of all time. It feels a bit wrong to name it on its own, bc in my mind it’s more like a part of the entire album bc I mostly listen to it from start to end. Its called the devil and god are raging inside me and I love all the songs. Limousine is definitely up there aswell. Oh and not the sun. And you won’t know. Ooh and archers omg, do yourself a favour and listen to the entire thing.

Same thing with the adults are talking by the strokes. Fantastic song, but the album as a whole is fuckikg chef kiss kind of shit. What a masterpiece man, the strokes are one of the greatest bands of all time to me. Actually I think I might change my mind. Am I allowed to change my mind? Ode to the mets might be my favorite song on the album. And that’s bc 1., „drums please, fab“ (when they played it live for the first time, fab simply forgot to play and it somehow ended up on the recording, it’s on YouTube and it’s hilarious) and 2. bc I LOVE the lyrics. When the second part starts at around 4 minutes I think, the style of the song kinda changes and the lines start to be all over the place, If you look up the lyrics you can’t really tell when a line or sentence starts or ends, it’s all intertwined somehow. I thinks it’s beautiful and it’s fun. Go strokes. (Honourable mentions from the album: why are Sundays so depressing, selfless, not the same anymore, at the door and ah fuck it every song)

I feel like I should throw in a shorter answer, so here: if I get high by a beautiful band called nothing but thieves. I can’t put all my love for this one into words. Saw it live although it kinda wasn’t on the setlist and i think it changed me as a person. Connor has a voice that we, as a nation, must protect at all costs. A piece of art. Top tier song.

And a fifth one could be seventeen going under by Sam fender? This song did SOMETHING to me. End of last year + beginning of this year were the worst few months of my entire life. I don’t know how to explain to you how fuckikg bad it was. I’ve never been this depressed before and I was so easily triggered into bad episodes that i didn’t go outside or talk to anyone for a long time bc i was so afraid someone might say a single wrong word that could remind me of stuff I tried not to think about, which would set me back weeks again and again and well shit got pretty dark. And then when I thought it would never get better, it somehow got better. Getting out of there was fuckikg hard but somehow I did It and at the same time I discovered Sam fender and sorry for being cheesy but imagine you’re just coming out of a dark shit hole and you thought you’d never smile again and then you’re in the car, listening to seventeen going under on full volume, screaming words like „i was far too scared to hit him, but I would hit him in a heartbeat now“. Feels like laughing at the devil or something. Right now I’m a little bit tired of it because i listened to it a bit too much, but damn it’s still an banger. Shout out to Sam fender.

Thats it and THANK YOU FOR ASKING

[wenellyb]

My journey in the MCU fandom on Tumblr: Sharing my thoughts on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, racism in the MCU fandom and the best and the worse of the fandom

I wasn’t going to write this much but here I am… I don’t even know where I’m going with this but since The Falcon and the Winter Soldier just recently came out, I wanted to share some thoughts.

I joined Tumble because of a show I loved but most of you don’t know it “ Hit the Floor”

I stayed on Tumblr for two reasons only, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan.

Before the Captain America:Civil War premiere, a friend sent me the link to the Sebastian and Anthony ET interview, and I was hooked. In just one interview. I discovered Anthony Mackie. The guy was hilarious!!! I just couldn’t get enough and I knew I had to know more about him. How could he improvise so many funny lines on the spot? He was just amazing.

I had pretty much watched all the avengers movie but that was it. I was not involved in the fandom. So I knew Sam Wilson’s face, but I couldn’t even remember his name if my life depended on it. That’s how much the MCU treated him as a side character.

I was like how the f*ck don’t I know this guy?

His talent reminded me of Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey or Robin Williams, like yes they can make some emotional or serious movies, but when they want to make you laugh, you will laugh. Whether you want it or not.  I kept wondering how this guy wasn’t more famous.

And the banter with Sebastian Stan? Wow, you could tell their friendship was strong, the way Sebastian lighted up when Anthony was talking, and keep bouncing off his jokes. It was art. the way Sebastian said “ I love you” at the end of the interview. Pure gold.

I then started to watch some of the interviews and boy was that a mistake!!! I literally couldn’t get enough. So I watched all and I say all their interviews, it was the best. We got some gems:

“Why aren’t you looking at me as much”

“Which way is the beach Seabass”

*Them saying nonsense in Spanish and then Sebastian Saying Papi Chulo*

 ¨And so many more, ....

I watched other solo Anthony interviews and he was still HILARIOUS, but you could also tell he felt a little bit more at ease with Sebastian around. I won’t pretend I know him or his personality, but Sebastian seems like a little bit more of an introvert and looks like he doesn’t enjoy the interview experience unless Anthony id around him. Just my thoughts

I watched the interviews before I went to see the movie, I even cosplayed as the Winter Soldier to the movie premiere and I was IN!!! When I saw Captain America Civil War, I became a SamBucky shipper, these two were hilarious and I really so the potential for a great realtionship I love enemy to lovers stories.

I also shipped Stucky because, to me, the trope of the movie was Superhero gives up everything to protect his long term friend” Hollywood movies have some codes and if Bucky were a female character, there is no doubt in my mind that the movie would have been marketed as romance.

Stucky really was an easy ship! But then the MCU fandom of Tumblr fandom messed up everything for me. You see I really liked the CACW and I I liked Stucky, I liked Sambucky, and I loved the introduction of t’Challa’s character, but one of things that affected me the most in the movie was that it was the first blockbuster I watched with 3 black main characters, Rhodey, Sam and T’Challa. That, and the fact that they were planning to realease a Black Panther movie in two years, I was super excited, and that’s the main reason I got involved in the MCU fandom so much, when before, I was just a casual watcher.

If this seem weird to you, then you have no idea how we were only getting crumbs before. For me it was soo huge, I even told all my friends, and they were laughing at me. But usually blockbusters, especially superhero movies get one black character and that’s it, usually the best friend or something and never the leads. So, for me it really was a big deal. How sad is that by the way…

I became more involved in the fandom and, at first, I wasn’t focusing on anything special, Sambucky, Stucky, Stackie, the Black Panther, and even Zemo, whose character I really liked.

But soon I noticed that the CACW tags were always flooded, and I mean flooded with the same two white characters: Steve and Bucky. I told myself, ok that’s fine Steve is the lead after all, but it would be good to see the other characters too.

And then I noticed another interesting trend: Evanstan…. Wait what?

Chris Evans, and Sebastian Stan… did I miss something? Listen, obviously I’m sure they must be friends or something, but you’re going to tell me you watch all MCU the actors and you’re going to focus on Steve and Sebastian? I’m sorry what?

Sebastian and Anthony are right there… Or Chris and Anthony, they even have a secret handshake, only the 2 of them do… what more do you want?

Tell me one iconic Evanstan moment… go ahead tell me… See??? There isn’t.

Because of this and because of how badly some Stuckies were treating Sam and Anthony. I became less and less of a stucky shipper . I mainly focused on SamBucky, Stackie and the Black Panther,

And then the Sebastian Stan stans saw how popular Stackie, Sambucky, were becoming and I started to see some problematic stuff in our fandom too.

I don’t want to generalize, but when you go into the Stackie tag, and you see cropped pictures of Sebastian without Anthony, it’s easy to assume that a Sebastian fan did that. And we know damn well you cropped out Anthony because we watched all Stackie interviews and know exactly which interview your picture was taken from. We know that Anthony was sitting right next to Seb.

You post a picture of Sebastian laughing but you crop out the person who was making him laugh??

“but it has nothing to do with race” How do you know that?

“Sebastian had more screen time” More screen time than Anthony in CATWS or CACW? I don’t think so.

“I have been a fan of Sebastian for longer”, that’s fine but don’t go out cropping Anthony, just post gifs of Seb in his usual, sad, and Anthony-less interviews, not the ones where he’s smiling because his best friend is next to him.

Some of you really are the worst. And just so you know, your fave Sebastian is Anthony’s biggest fan, if he saw pictures where you cropped out Anthony, he would block you on the spot.

When I realized that Anthony Mackie would be the next Captain America I was screaming, no actually, I was crying, Sam Wilson will be Captain America, and Anthony would finally get the recognition he deserves.

You would think that the MCU fandom would focus on Captain America or at least one the two leads, instead of just Sebastian? Right? Right? WRONG.

Anthony is handsome, he’s funny, he’s a great actor, he went to freaking Julliard, he’s at the top, I don’t see what else the man can do??? He should already be a superstar, but no, you will side-line him even to he is the lead of the show.

Even when they are the actual leads, you guys would do anything to bring up the White characters even if it means ignoring the Black characters.

I remember I was having a conversation about Black Panther with my friends and I asked one of my white friends who was his favorite character in BP was and he told me Martin Freeman (don’t even remember his name in the movie) Martin Freaking Freeman, there are half a dozen of great characters and your fave is the only white man??? Ok, ok, that’s great.

Don’t give out automatic reply like “It has nothing to do with race, if you haven’t thought about it first”, because there’s a high probability that it is indeed about race. Stop saying it isn’t, sit down and ask yourself, “Am I biased?” “Why am I reblogging only stuff related to the white characters”.

One of these days you guys are going to make me hate Sebastian with the sh*t you are pulling.

I looove the Stackie friendship and the Sambucky dynamic but after seeing the way some of you treat Anthony and Sam’s character, it make me want to focus on Sam’s character and forget about the rest.

 I remember they were some posts about how Anthony was problematic, and I just lost it. Apparently, there was an old article that resurfaced were Anthony was making a joke about women making sandwiches or something.

If you were offended by the sandwich joke, that is totally ok, and I can understand that.

But if you were offended by the sandwich joke, and saying Anthony is problematic BUT you still stan Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, ScarJo or even Sebastian Stan, just know that there is a high probability you’re racist.

They have all said or done problematic stuff, and people only seem to remember stuff related to Anthony, which was probably just a joke by the way.

Chris Evans and Jeremy called Black widow a wh*re, ScarJo took roles that she maybe shouldn’t have and I didn’t forget Sebastian shady Instagram post, when Kaepernick was kneeling. There are so many more things to be said about Jeremy Renner but google is your friend.

Anthony also got hate for hating on Tom Holland? Like what? Do you guys even hear yourselves? Don’t you have any friends you like to tease? If you hate someone, do you go around talking about him every chance you get? It was obviously friendly banter but some people wanted to turn it into something it was not. Sigh.

I really cannot with this fandom

 The stackie fandom was small at the beginning and the Sambucky fandom even smaller, but we were there and it was amazing. Sebastian and Anthony received the same amount of love from the fandom and I wish we could go back to those days.

Stop pretending the fandom isn’t racist. Stop saying “it isn’t about race” when you haven’t even thought about.

Saying “it has nothing to do with race” only shows that you haven’t thought about anything but don’t want to be called a racist.

There is racism in this fandom and it will always be there, but if you guys want to do anything about it, you have to acknowledge it first.

You can’t be pulling off stuff like “I don’t see colors”, “ it has nothing to do with race”. Stop, sit down, think about it and then we can have a conversation.

If you’ve made it till the end, I apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes, I wasn’t planning on writing this much.

[youmarin]

Ch. 00 Pt. I : To-Not-Do-But-Actually-Do List | JJ Maybank × fem! reader

a/n : I wrote this between last night and this morning. It's not my first time writing fanfic but it is my first one of JJ Maybank. I always delete my works thinking they ain't good enough. Hopefully I won't delete it this time and when I get some breaks I can keep writing. Anyways to whoever stops and reads: Thank you very much and enjoy the story!

tw: underage drinking, smoking, slight mention of anxiety (it's barely there).

There's a small conversation in Spanish but I clarified what is being said.

word count: 3.0k+

You were studying for an upcoming test. It was Friday evening and you were sure nobody liked to study on Friday evenings just when the school week had come to an end. But you had nothing better to do. Well, you were invited to a kegger by your friends, which you were seriously considering going to since you already knew the material and didn’t know what to do now. But you were unsure about parties. One goes to have fun, right? But fun usually means getting drunk, high or hooking up. And you weren’t about to do any of them. But you figured it wouldn’t hurt to put in practice your socializing skills. 

You told your parents you were going out for the night. They looked at you oddly, but didn’t say anything, only wishing you had a good time, telling you to be safe and to call once you got there, once you were on your way back and if something came up. Of course, they also asked who you were gonna be with, where were you gonna be, if someone was going to pick you up, who would bring you home. The whole interrogation. 

After taking a shower and dressing up, you called your friends hoping someone could give you a ride. Luckily for you, your best friend hadn’t arrived yet and was close by. He was always late for everything so you kind of figured that’s how it would be. 

“Hey pretty lady.” , he smirked at you as you got on the bike behind him, arms around his torso, “What made you change your mind?”

“Got bored.”, you answered simply.

“That 's weird. You're not one to get bored. But guess we’re actually having fun tonight so let ‘s go!” he answered, hyped as ever, you chuckled as he drove off to the beach. 

You lost sight of him as soon as you stepped on the beach. And that's on having fun tonight together, huh. “So, now what?” You asked yourself looking around for some familiar faces. You managed to spot some of your friends among the crowd but they seemed to be having fun engaged in conversation and you didn’t want to burden them. Yeah you had just arrived and you already were starting to regret coming, and being surrounded by a squirming crowd, all dancing and moving around wasn’t helping. You made a haste turn and gasped when you felt something spill over your top.

“Oh dammit.” The boy cried over the spilled drinks. Some had gotten on his T-shirt too. “I mean shit, I’m sorry dude. It was kinda your fault too though.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile as you looked up. “Oh shit. Sorry Y/N.”

“You’re great with apologies, Maybank.” He smiled back, but he grimaced seeing your ruined shirt. You noticed and looked down, the thin fabric of your blouse letting into view your bra. You crossed your arms over your chest trying to make it better, looking up at him again and smiling awkwardly to try and hide your embarrassment. But he could make out your flushed cheeks and your discomfort. He felt his own cheeks get warmer at the fact you caught him staring and that you crossing your arms definitely didn’t help. 

“I try my best. Care for a drink?” He offered you the one cup that didn’t spill over you. You scrunched your nose and nodded your head hesitantly, reaching for it. “Actually, can you wait here for a sec.?” You nodded again and there he left you, looking around awkwardly waiting for him to get back. You looked at your drink, swirling the liquid in the cup, questioning if you should drink it. You had never drinked before. And you were alone, well, JJ was with you but you didn’t know if he was actually coming back or if he had just grabbed the opportunity to spare you from your embarrassment. You took a sip, making a face - there goes the no drinking thing you were talking about- and you saw JJ approach, eyes squinted looking for someone. He spotted you and smiled as he came to a stop in front of you, holding a drink and a sweatshirt. He offered the sweatshirt to you “Here.” 

“Oh, um, thanks.” He held your drink as you put his sweatshirt on. It was like two sizes bigger. You extended your arms making a silly pose and he approved, making you do a little spin. 

“Never seen you around one of these before. Didn’t think it was something you liked.” He started walking, you by his side.

“I actually don’t like it. You just bumped into me right when I started to panic about being here.” You said jokingly although it was actually the truth. JJ let out a laugh. “But I thought I might do something different tonight. Get out of the comfort zone, you know?”

“And how’s that going?” He questioned, you could see a smile hidden by the rim of his cup. You smiled.

“Not bad. I’m actually talking with someone, I had my first drink…” You said, and downed the last of said drink. “Not a fan of them to be honest.” you made a face and blinked a few times, not liking the taste. 

“No way.” He said incredulously. You nodded, letting out an affirmative sound. “ What would people think of me for corrupting Y/N Y/L/N?” 

“So bad of you.” you played along. “Nah, it’s just one drink. As long as you drink moderately it’s fine. Also I could’ve refused, so you’re not corrupting me.” You shrugged, then widened your eyes because of all your blabbering. “I went too deep on that joke. I'm sorry.” You smiled nervously, smoothing your hair. He just laughed.

“That ‘s fine. You have no idea how much shit I can talk.  My friends are shutting me up all the time. Wait- Not that you were talking shit- Oh God.” It was your turn to laugh about how conflicted he looked. He smiled and calmed down seeing that you didn’t take it wrong. 

There was a beat of silence before he spoke up again, “So… You wanna go somewhere more quiet?” The question caught you off guard. He sensed your hesitation and rushed to explain. “I mean, since you don’t really like parties. Thought you might want to head over to somewhere else? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. “ 

You nodded, “Wait, but what about you? I don’t wanna make you leave.” you worried

He brushed it off. “There’s always more of these.” 

So you both went further down the beach, the sounds from the party heard from a distance. You sat down and saw him take out something from his pockets. “Do you mind if I burn one?” You shook your head. He lighted it up and took a hit, slowly letting the smoke out after. You caught yourself staring, and he also caught you, showing you a smirk,  “You probably haven’t smoked before either, right?” He said mockingly. You pushed him jokingly, then overthinking about if you weren’t getting too confident around him. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple times before. 

“No, I haven’t.”

“Such a good girl.” he cooed, “I shouldn’t be the one to make you drink and smoke in the same night but, who’s better than me?” He offered you the blunt. 

“Yeah right.” you answered sarcastically, and once again hesitated but took it from his hand - there goes the “no smoking”. The same night, in less than an hour. You just need to hook up with someone and you shall check out your To-Not-Do-But-Do List-. You looked at it and proceeded to put it in your mouth. 

“Easy there.” He warned as you inhaled the smoke. You coughed it out, laughing as he caressed your back, trying to ease you. 

“Whoah.” you blinked a few times as you tried to get used to it. And that's how you spent the rest of the night there talking and smoking. Usually you had trouble making conversation but with the help of the alcohol and weed you were more easy going tonight, mostly talking nonsense and laughing at everything, which had JJ glancing at you with an amused smile. “Yeah, she definitely had never smoked before.”  He saw as you scrunched your nose, suddenly, and smelled his sweatshirt that you were wearing. “I smell like weed.”  You said, disgusted. Apparently, you forgot you were smoking. “And I’m wearing a boy’s sweatshirt.” Your eyes widened as you lifted your arms and looked at the sleeves of his sweatshirt as they dangled when you moved them around. “My parents are gonna kill me. Twice!” You cackled almost hysterically, which made JJ burst in laughter too at the sight of you. 

It was a little past midnight and after running out of energy, you had fallen asleep profoundly, leaning over JJ, your head resting on his shoulder. He didn't bother to wake you up at first, being very comfortable with how you two were. But then he almost fell asleep too and it was pretty late so he gently tried to shove you awake. “Y/N.” you grunted, and tried to ignore him. “Y/N we have to go. It 's late. Don’t wanna fall asleep here for some creep to come and kill us.” 

“You can fight them.” you mumbled. “You look like a very brave courageous prince.” 

“Do I now?” He looked at you, trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah this prince you’re talking about is lacking money. And sleep. So let 's go.” He helped you stand up. You made eye contact with him and your eyes widened. “What now?” he questioned, amused.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” 

“Oh you’re gonna make me blush. C’mon, I can give you a piggyback ride until we meet with John B.” In fact, he did blush a little by the intensity of your gaze. Not that you would notice being as you were right now. You fell asleep again almost immediately once on his back, your head resting on top of his. He almost dropped you when you got too relaxed and your grip around his shoulders got a little too loose. He hoped John B hadn’t left.  He didn't feel like walking all the way to the château. He figured you’ll stay with them. He didn't know where you lived and even if he did he wasn’t about to drop you off high out of your mind. 

“Hey, I was looking all over for you. Kie and Pope already left.” John B started as he looked at your sleeping figure being carried by his friend, his curious eyes making the question for him already but he spoke nevertheless, “You’ve been with her all this time?” 

“Yeah. She’s out like a light. And she doesn’t look like it but she’s starting to feel heavy so let’s get to the Twinkie. Also, have you seen my backpack? I thought I left it around here." He started to make his way to the van, John B keeping his pace.

“ Yeah, I grabbed it when I started looking around for you." He said before saying what he really wanted to say at that moment, "Listen, man, I know you… Are JJ, " He missed the puzzled look JJ was giving him, "Like the JJ Maybank. Big time player.  But Y/N. Out of all people? How did you even get with her? We actually know her and it would suck to hurt her feelings.”John B kept going, just astounded with how far JJ could go.

“We didn’t do anything of whatever you’re imagining.” JJ squinted his eyes at him. “I bumped into her and we stayed together after that, we chatted, drinked, smoked a little…”

“You let her smoke? Since when does she smoke?” 

“Since today man, I don’t know. And it’s not like I forced her to do it. She can make her own decisions. Also she was with me so it’s not like something would have happened to her.” John B raised a brow, “At least nothing that she didn't want.”  He opened the sliding door of the van. “Just help me out, dude. Geez, you’re supposed to be my best friend bro. Wouldn’t hurt to show a little trust.” 

“Precisely because I am your best friend is why I care about it.” He helped JJ get you inside of the van. 

“If someone was looking at us they would say we’re kidnapping her.” John B stated as he made his way to the driver’s seat and started the Twinkie. JJ took a seat, while you laid there sleeping, your head resting on his lap. He made sure you wouldn’t move and smack your face with the van or fall to the floor. When they arrived at the Château, they both helped you out of the van and got you inside the house. JJ went to bother a sleeping Kie, asking her to help you get changed out of your clothes, though he thought you looked cute with his sweatshirt on. 

_________________

You woke up, slightly disoriented but well rested. The smell of food reached your senses. Stretching, you looked around and saw you were sleeping next to Kiara Carrera. How the hell did you get there? 

“Goodmorning.” she said, startling you. 

“Good- Morning?” You stared at her. Kie saw the confusion in your expression and smiled. Teasing a little wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Did you enjoy last night?” Kie asked, and purposely got a bit closer, looking at your lips.

“What?”

“You don’t remember?” she clicked her tongue. “That’s a shame though.”

“What? No! No. I do remember.” Kie raised a brow, “ No, I was with JJ-” you stopped yourself, “Not! Not in a sexual way.” You rushed to explain. Sheepishly, fidgeting with your hands, you looked up at her again. “Did we really…” God,I thought I was straight. I mean, I am straight. Kie is really pretty though. God you just had sex for the first time and you don’t even remember,  you shook your head to stop the nonsense that were your thoughts at the moment.

At that point, Kiara couldn’t hold it anymore and started laughing at the conflict you were having in your head, your troubled state written all over your face.

“You two! Come and get breakfast before we eat all of it. And Kie, stop messing with Y/N.” You heard John B and JJ shout from the kitchen. You were really hungry, now that they mentioned food. And it smelled really nice earlier. You both got up and went to the dinner table, where you found JJ fixing up a plate for you. He motioned for you to sit. “Goodmorning.” He said, giving you a smile. “You good?” 

Nervously, you greeted him back, nodding. You probably made some trouble for them last night, especially for JJ. You all sat at the table, chatting and recalling stuff from last night. Guess you still were straight, and didn’t hook up with Kie. She was just taking advantage of you not being able to process anything too well before eleven in the morning and making fun of you. You were enjoying yourself but, 

“I should be going home.” you said, excusing yourself.

“I can go with you. Also, your phone went off a few times this morning while you were sleeping.” JJ mentioned casually as he stood up after you. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You told him but he brushed you off, saying it was no problem.  “Oh my God, my phone! I mean, my parents! They’re totally gonna kill me!” The other two held their laughter towards your distressed face and JJ grimaced as he motioned for you to follow him and you went to the room he always stayed in. He gestured towards your clothes and your phone. He had washed your clothes earlier after he woke up. When you looked at your phone’s screen, you saw all the missed calls you had from your mom, your dad, even your brother. Your stomach dropped. 

“You didn’t tell them you were going out?” JJ asked. 

“I did! I just never said I was going to stay at someone else’s place!” As if on cue, your phone went off again. You both looked at each other and you answered, already grimacing at what was coming.

“Hey ma’.” 

JJ frowned, your voice sounded different for a moment. Then he heard a loud voice from the other end of the call, most likely your mom’s. He couldn’t make out what she was saying because it was in Spanish? and she was talking way too fast in a hysterical tone. He looked curiously as he heard you both.

“¡No! Mami estoy bien. Es que se hizo tarde y me quedé en casa de Kiara.” You lied, saying you stayed over at Kie’s as your mom asked you who the hell was Kiara. “Una amiga, ma. Perdón que no dije nada. Ya voy para allá. Sí, sí, bye.”  You sighed. “I’m grounded.” you fake smiled and looked over at JJ. He gave you an apologetic look. “Well I don’t really go out much.” You laughed nervously. “I should go. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you guys.” 

“Yeah, yeah, no I mean, not at all.”  JJ answered awkwardly, a hand brushing his hair back  as he smiled at you nervously. 

They let you take a shower and change back to your clothes before making your way out. You thanked them, and both you and JJ made your way out of the château and back to your house. You decided to walk, since it wasn’t too far. You stopped a couple houses before yours, telling JJ that going back after staying out the night without telling anybody and coming back home with a boy was just you asking to get yourself killed. He laughed, telling you that he understood. 

“I have no problem introducing myself to them. Since I am indeed very brave and courageous and all.” He teased, trying to see if you remembered what you said to him last night. You did remember, but did your best to play it off as if you didn’t, feeling kinda embarrassed. He laughed it off when you looked at him as if you didn’t know what he was talking about, a little hurt but he wouldn't make a big deal about it. You were high as a kite anyways. “Forget it.” he finished with a sigh. “See you around?” He asked, hopeful

“Sure. See ya around.” You gave him a hug, then started to make the rest of your way back to your house. You turned to look at him once more and gave him a smile and a small wave. He smiled and waved back. It would be hard to take that smile off his face for the rest of the day. 

[pcvensies]

Being in a polyamorous relationship with Percy and Leo would include...

requested by my babiest @hazzy

reader is gender neutral as always, also i’ve never writen polyships before so... headcanons to begin, and let’s see where that takes me!

this is kinda short and terrible, im SORRY in advanced

it happened so naturally

you liked percy first, a big crush kind of thing

mighty percy jackson, you know? how could you not?

but then you actually met him

he was so sweet all the time, kinda chaotic

in a cute way

leo was your best friend

everyone kind of thought you were together already anyways

he’s a flirty mess, he’s always been

but from one summer to another bOOM!

#nevillelongbottomed!

his flirting isn’t just funny anymore... it starts working

lots of confusion

and guilt

feeling awful for liking them both, and following their little flirty games

you feel like you’re playing with them, but you really can’t choose

Eros is kinda terrible sometimes, ya know, outed Nico... but he appears to you

and you’re SHOOK to say the least

“So... two boys, huh?” “Don’t make me say it out loud”

he introduces you to the world of polylove. you didn’t even know that was a thing. but it makes sense

you realise you might be polyamorous

flashforward to one night

you, leo and perce were doing guards as a punishment for pranking some apollo kids

leo was bored as fuck, which meant he got anxious and needed to fiddle with something and keep his hands busy

and you can tell percy isn’t displeased by leo playing with his fingers to keep himself entertained

they’re always flirting too, but you thought it was in a non-toxic-masculinity way. as bros

you realise you were probably WRONG

so you sigh deeply, and they both turn to you

percy chuckles and offers you his other hand

“it’s relaxing, really”, leo laughs, percy’s hand still on his

you sit next to them, leo being next to percy, and you between the blue eyed boy’s legs, facing leo

you try to take percy’s hand, but he starts playing with your hair

“i am bored too, you know?” he defends himself, and you nod

you start drawing little circles on leo’s calf with your pointer finger, and he moves his leg so it is against yours

you’re all somehow touching the other two

it’s all quiet, and warm, and nice

you feel so happy and full

so you spit it out

“i had a talk with Eros the other day, he appeared at my cabin” “you did? what did he want?” “yeah, did he just... appear?” “well... i had this thought eating my brains up... regarding love. and he helped me figure it out” “and what was it?” “you can’t not tell us now, you’ve already set the doubt, mi amor”

cue long silence, your eyes stuck to the floor while you took a deep breath

“i am polyamorous”

then more silence

percy’s hand moves away from your hair, and you feel your heart drop, afraid you fucked up

but he turns to look at leo

“i am bi”

leo then looks at you

“and i am pansexual, i think... so that’s the whole pack right here”

you chuckle nervously, your shoulders shaking slightly, finally releasing all the tension

“i was uh... i felt like there was something wrong with me, you know? because i... i liked you two. and it felt wrong, but when he explained it to me... it didn’t anymore”

“it doesn’t sound wrong... for me”

“it’s cool with me, if you get what i mean”

you three laughed at the realisation that you have all been feeling the same, but none had said anything

and thats how it started

NOW THE ACTUAL THING SORRY I NEEDED TO GIVE A BRACKGROUND TO IT ALL

you cuddle a lot, usually at cabin 2 since it’s just percy’s

you take turns on being on the middle, but its usually you

percy hugs you from behind, his nose nuzzled on your nape, and every now and then, he presses little kisses on the back of your neck

leo’s arms are wrapped around your waist, his head tucked under your chin, casually shifting it to place little kisses on your jaw or neck

their hands are intertwined over your hip, and percy tends to rest his arm on your side, but use his hand to play with leo’s curls

when it’s not the three of you together, it’s always two

as in, there’s usually always 2/3 around camp together while the other is busy

you and leo LOVE watching percy train, him being in absolute focus, the way he moves and the look on his face

so very good views of your man

percy and you sometimes just sit around cabin 9 to watch leo work

it’s one of the only times were he’s not fiddling with something or shifting nervously, he feels full and proud, he is genuinely happy and content with himself

when he asks for a tool, you two ‘fight’ to be the one to give it to him

percy and leo love watching you sleep

i know, kinda silly but they do

you look so peaceful, your arms wrapped around percy’s waist, head on his chest, while leo hugs you from behind, his hand running up and down your side, pressing kisses to your head

they look at each other in full awe of you, and whisper about how lucky they are

whenever you guys cant sleep together, it feels so lonely :(

the first time you slept all together, leo woke you up by knocking at your cabin’s window

“leo... what are you—“ “it’s percy...”

you managed to make it out through the window, not a second thought

you both find him sat in the edge of his bed, looking down

“baby, what’s wrong?” “can you stay here tonight?” “of course we can, mi amor”

he’s in the middle that night

you play with his hair, while leo sings some sweet spanish lullabies to you two

you three fall asleep, peacefully, on percy’s bed

percy kisses more passionately than leo, but leo kisses more. lot’s of lil random pecks, while percy kisses you two less times, but showing all of his love through the kisses

percy prefers holding hands, while leo prefers hugs

they’re both taller and they LOVE reminding you

+18 content, careful kids!

percy groans, while leo moans

percy is more of top than leo is. percy tops both you and leo. you bottom for percy but top leo. leo is a cute as fuck bottom

percy likes to give hickeys, but not that much to have them (he’s not a fan of having bruises on him... fuck gabe 2020), while leo likes giving them and getting them

you’re covered in them at all times, from both of them

your first time was so fun, and sweet, and caring

everyone was so careful and gentle, experimenting, trying to see what felt right for the others and themselves

percy moans sweet nothings, while leo swears:

“that feels so good, baby...”

“fuck— oh gods... that’s so fucking nice, mi amor...”

leo likes giving orals more than receiving them, while percy doesn’t mind to give of receive

leo gets very turned on by watching you and percy start

he’s a little mess, we love him

+18 content over!

aftercare is so sweet please

y’all help each other clean out

soft hand holding, little cheek kisses, gentle cuddling and small chuckles

you and percy cleaning out leo, and when he goes back to bed, you two shower together

leo and you always making sure perce sleeps and eats, cause he sometimes forgets to take care of himself

percy and you making sure leo doesn’t overwork himself, and helping him out of his selfconscious spirals

both of them making sure you’re safe and you know you’re loved and you matter the world to them

communicative, healthy relationship

you trust each other with everything, and you’re best friends before anything

never feeling unloved, or guilty, again

because you have two wonderful boys who love you

and two wonderful boys to love

[overheard-at-camp-half-blood]

Ok so I love everything in the PJO universe and I found your blog and was reading through it and I was wondering what you meant by the POC’s deserve better I know it’s true but I just got confused and was hoping you could help me understand this topic better. This is coming from a POC themselves thank you so much I love your blog and how you say how you feel on all topics

So, first of all, thank you. Also, I’m sorry for not getting back to you sooner, but as I said, I’ve been busy, and I really wanted to give myself the time to give you a good answer, because I myself am white, so there isn’t much I can tell you from personal experience that would give you an in depth explanation of what’s going on.

So here is a masterlist of information about this topic that I personally found helpful when learning abo these topics. Please read through this, because BIPOC voices are the voices that matter the most, but I will give you a brief summary of each of the issues.

Some of the main issues are;

Hazel’s adultifacation. The issue is that Hazel, a black woman was made younger than everyone else, when she really didn’t have to be. This contributes to an issue in media where black girls are forced to grow up faster than other people around them. Not to mention, making Pluto look like H*tler, and making him the father of a black girl during the time of segregation was a very bad choice.

Piper’s character apparently had a lot of issues, from her appearance to her backstory, but some of the big ones include; feathers, oversexualization, cornucopia and whitewashing of her character. First, I don’t think I need to explain the issues with the feathers and the stereotypes, but also it shows a lack of understanding of the culture. Eagles in particular are sacred and are usually only worn by leaders- and they are not to be worn casually. As for oversexualizing her, it’s problematic enough considering she’s a literal child, but as stated in the post I just linked, oversexualization of indigenous woman is a huge problem in native communities. The fact that she used a cornucopia, a literal Thanksgiving symbol as a weapon is self explanatory. As for whitewashing her character, she is the only character described as mixed race. Now there’s nothing wrong with being mixed race, but the fact that this choice was made for the indigenous character in particular... that’s a problem. This in particular is problematic considering the constant erasure of indigenous people irl.

Rick also responded to criticism about Piper’s character in particular in a very problematic way. His response to being criticized was to accuse people of bullying him, and telling people to move on from being misrepresented.

Also, Rick seems to have an issue with describing BIPOC characters as... BIPOC? He erased a lot of Hazel and Piper nonwhite features, giving Hazel gold eyes and cinnamon hair, and Piper kaleidoscope eyes. They should have both had brown eyes, and Hazel should have had darker hair.

Leo was written well in the beginning, but Rick developed him into being a Mexican stereotype. First of all, the constant flirting is quite obviously stereotypical of Latinx people in general, and there is issues with the “Mamacita” line- it was addressed, but not well.

Reyna isn’t included in this post, because whoever contributed to it deleted their blog, but I have seen criticism from Puerto Rican fans that say that Reyna’s disconnection with her shows that while Reyna is technically representation for them, she was written for white people.

Aside from individual criticism, general criticism includes;

Most of the black characters have died at some point in the series- even Hazel died and came back.

Most BIPOC characters were cheated out of an arc, and most of the big parts of their internal conflicts were fixed off the page (Frank’s stick) or in someone else’s point of view (Leo’s desire to find a family).

I’m sorry, but Rick was willing to make a book about Percy & Annabeth, the characters we know the most about, but couldn’t equal out the point of views of Frank & Hazel with the rest of the seven?

Most of the Latinx characters were bilingual, when it didn’t make sense for them to be. Leo had an unstable life from childhood to his teen years, and there is no way he spent time in enough Spanish-speaking homes to develop their vocabulary. Reyna had been away from her culture for so long too, the same applies to her.

In general, I’ve noticed that both the fandom and Rick’s standards for BIPOC characters are much higher than they are for white characters. I cannot name one character of color that hasn’t been held to a different standard than other characters at some point.

Essentially, no BIPOC character was done well, and every marginalized group that was represented in some shape or form was not done well. The link also points out issues with homophobia and ableism.

The thing is, I think the reason why Rick did get away with it for so long, is because for a lot of these people it was there first time feeling represented, and at the time, there wasn’t a lot of representation to go off- but that doesn’t make it good representation in anyway shape or form. For example

This doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy these books, or these characters, but it’s good to look at how these characters were treated by the narrative. There will be a tv show, which is a good chance for Rick to fix at least some of his mistakes.

Also, if there is anything my BIPOC followers would like to add on, please do. If my information is wrong, please call me out.

[babyspiderling]

Under the Lights  Daveed Diggs x reader

Before I even paste this into Tumblr, I want you all to know that this took me two days of constant writing, and FOUR pages on google docs. I know that the second I hit paste, it’s going to be like one page. Anyways, here’s Daveed x reader.

2010

“Hey, Y/N, I brought you muffins!” A woman with a mouth full of pins, her hair up in a messy bun, measuring tape sloppily tied around her neck, and a pincushion on her wrist, exited a space separated from the rest of the apartment by a thin curtain. Seeing her best friend and roommate enter with goodies, a bright grin fluttered onto her face. “Wanna see what I did while you were gone?” He nodded and followed her to her half of the work room. On a mannequin, a beautiful dress was fleshed out much more than it had been when Lin had left this morning. It had been nothing more than a sketch on paper for the Newsies show. As a major in history with a minor in design, Y/N was accepted by Disney to create the costumes. It didn’t hurt that The Lin Manuel Miranda of In the Heights fame was on her list of references. She had decided to start with Medda’s dress first. Medda was a personal favorite of hers and was excited to do her own spin on it. A deep purple sash had been half pinned under the bodice and sadly hung from its haphazard placement. “The sash would look better if you hadn’t distracted me with food dork.” He smiled and pressed the folded paper bag into her hand. “Alright. I’m going to finish this for Alan. It’s a miracle I have this job. I’m not screwing it up. I also meant to tell you that one of my guys are going to be here tomorrow for a measure and design session. Sweet kid. Amazing dancer.” Lin grinned teasingly as he set his laptop down on his desk. “Am I getting replaced? Is he going to be your new roommate and best friend?” Y/N stuck out her tongue at her best friend and continued her work. The sounds of humming and a machine whirring mixed in with the excited clacking of keys to make a strangely beautiful symphony. 

2013

“Y/N! I need your help!” In the tiny apartment in the upper east side, an over-caffeinated Wesleyan Alumni burst through the front door, a paper bag of bagels clutched tightly. At the yells, another Alumni ran from her section of the apartment.  “Lin! What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He thrusts the bag into her searching hands, and lets out another shriek. “Y/N! I’m fine! They want to put The Hamilton Mixtape through a workshop! And if we get this right, they’ll move us to a real show!” Shoving his shoulders, she muffled her screams behind pinched lips. “Lin, you can not go scaring me like that! I’m going to get gray hairs before we even get to the off Broadway! What do you need my help with?” He pulled her onto the ratty couch they had in the little space. “I need a costumer. You’re the best in the business. Not to mention I’ll be with you all the time, so there’s no chance of miscommunications!” Standing from her forced seat, she cradled Lin’s head in her hands. She saw the excitement glimmer in his eyes and softened. “Lin, of course I’ll help you, I am a history major after all. Who else could make it historically accurate while still being functional? Thank you for even considering me, and for the bagels.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. Giving a crooked smile, she pointed a finger in his face. “If you ever scare me like that, I swear I will never cook or bake for you again.” He smiled sheepishly and shrugged in apology. “Sorry, but hey, you’re my costumer now!” She smiled and bumped her hip with his. She dug through her pads of paper and snatched her laptop off the charger. “Alright. Give me your tracks and I’ll get started.” 

July 27th, 2013

“Alright, I’m here. Sorry I’m late, I got halfway down the block before I figured out I left my notes on the desk. Who do we have here?” Three men held my attention, understandable since they were the main cast. I recognized Brian D’arcy James from other productions, there was another man with big hair and bright eyes, and finally my eyes fell on Christopher. I smiled at him and gave him a quick hug. “Oh my God! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in so long! How’ve you been.” He chuckled and pulled me in again. “I’m good. I was missing our Vanessa for a while, but you’re working with us now so I won’t have to miss you anymore! Lin told me about the project and I couldn’t turn it down.” He turned me to the stranger at the clearing of a throat. “Oh, this is Daveed. He’s playing Thomas Jefferson and Lafayette. He raps.” I looked at him up and down, remembering the songs Lin had written for him. I cocked my head, and he looked at me with nervous eyes. “This will work. This is going to work great actually.” I saw his shoulders relax and sag with relief as I walked back to the table set up for the behind the scenes people. I gripped my pen in my hand, ready to jot down every little thought that passed through my mind for the time of the workshop. 

After hours and hours of rehearsals and run throughs, I’d filled up a notebook and a half for costumes for the characters. This time around Lin wanted his cast flexible. Those whose characters were not in the second act were recast as another role, so I had to figure out how to do quick changes not only for the nine main cast members, but for the entire ensemble. As Lin and I packed up our things to head home, the man with the beautiful eyes stopped me. “Hey, Vanessa, right?” I heard Lin and Christopher snicker somewhere behind me and I shot them a look. “Actually, it’s Y/N.” His eyes widened in embarrassment and his hand lifted to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just thought it was Vanessa since that’s what Christopher called you.” I shook my head and smiled. “Oh, no. That’s just a little joke between us. I was the demo Vanessa when Lin was trying to sell In the Heights. I’m the reason why Vanessa never speaks Spanish. I took French all through high school and college.” He nodded and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’ve got some questions about costumes and everything you do. Could I have your number to keep in contact?” I nodded and pulled out my phone, switching it with his and I plugged in my contact information. “Alright. I’m headed home, but I’ll make a schedule for measuring and design sessions. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nodded enthusiastically, making his hair bob with his movements. I waved goodnight and followed Lin out of the building. 

“So, Daveed.” I looked up from my buzzing phone to Lin out of the corner of my eye, giving him an eyebrow. “What about Daveed?” He shrugged and wore a small smile. “You texting him?” I put my phone down to look at him headlong. “And if I am?” Once again he shrugged and got up to grab a snack. “Nothing, just remember your worth.” I shake my head good naturally. “Alright Dad. Now, I’ve got to sketch out what my brain was screaming during the workshop. And how to create every outfit as a quick change. Thanks loser.” 

July 15th, 2015

“Alright everyone! We’ve practiced these changes for weeks! Remember your number, remember your cue. You all have been a wonder to work with and to create for. I love you all and break a leg!” Everyone is dressed in white for the opening number, and I am proud of my work. “Oh, and Daveed;” Daveed looks up at me, a strange look in his eyes. “Yes, Y/N?” I looked him in the eyes, stoic and serious. “If you rip your pants during Guns and Ships again, you will repay me by organizing the scrap bin.” He swallowed visibly and nodded his head. I smiled once again and put my hand out for a group theatre circle. “Break a leg!” Everyone scurried to their cue spot in their costumes and Lin hugged me from behind. “Thank you for doing this for me. I never would be able to have costumes this good if it weren’t for you.” I turned in his arms and smiled. “I’m glad I did too Lin. Now go, they’re calling your name.” I listened from my side of the stage, getting everything in order for the main cast. I pulled Daveeds coat off quickly and held out his blue one for him to slide on. “Hey, Y/N, maybe after the show we can-“ “Diggs! Get to your cue!” I smiled and nudged him. “Go. Talk to me after the show.” He gave a quick kiss to my cheek and went to do his thing on stage. As I pinned the rose to Renée’s dress, her sweet voice teased at me. “You do know that he loves you too, right?” I know what she’s talking about, but I pretend to play dumb. “Who loves me? Nevermind, neither of us have the time for this. Go kick ass out there.” She scrunched her eyebrows at me and pointed her finger to say “This isn’t over.” 

The first act went by in a flash, costume changes and character changes took up all of my time. After I had hung up every dress, every coat, every pair of trousers and corset, Daveed had changed and packed up all of his things. I had just finished mending the lace cuff on his magenta sleeve when he had walked in. He wore a sleeveless Oakland jersey with a matching hat pressed onto his freed hair. “Oh! Daveed! Perfect timing! I was just finishing up here. What was it that you were wanting to tell me?” At my question, it was like a switch had been flipped in him. He went from the cool and collected suave man who the fans fantasized over to a shy and awkward man who had run out of words. Self-doubt and insecurity filled my inner dialogue as I watched him shut down and clam up. I was filled with the fear and anxiety that he had come to ask me to stop staring, to stop caring. I let the silence carry on for a while longer until Anthony called for us to leave. “I, I should probably go, then. You were amazing tonight, not a single trip or stutter. I am so proud of you.” I swallowed down the tears making their way up my throat and gave him a watery smile. I grabbed my bag, and started to make a hurried exit until my wrist was caught by a large and calloused hand. “Wait, no. Y/N, I wanted to know if you wanted to grab something to eat, go do something when we don’t have a show. You know, like maybe a date? Unless you don’t want to, then it’ll just be us as friends. I’d actually really appreciate it if you just forgot this whole ordeal and-” I smiled and blushed at his sweet ramblings. I stepped up onto my workbench and gripped his face in my hands. Taking a deep breath I leaned in and connected our lips, praying to every spiritual being in the heavens that they would allow him to kiss me back. I guess praying did me good because after getting over the shock of being interrupted, he kissed me back with the same fervour. Once more, we are called to leave the theater and we break apart, panting lightly with swollen lips and pink cheeks. He helped me down from my step and I lifted myself onto my toes to give a peck to his cheek. “Alright big guy, let’s go home. Lin’s either knowing of what we were doing, or he’s pacing in our living room, police on speed dial. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

[passionate-hedgehog]

Impasse pt 2

Impasse is a 3-part series revolving around Reader entering society in Regency-Era London. Completely inspired by me binging the entirety of Bridgerton in less than 24 hours, Impasse will end with either Duke Damien Haas x Reader, or Courtney Miller x Reader.

Pt 2.

Pairings: Eventual Damien Haas x Reader, Eventual Courtney Miller x Reader

Warnings: None

Word: 2187

A/N: I know that my masterlist links arent working. If you try to use it, and things dont go where you want them to take you...well...I warned you. I’m turning this into a 4 part fic. There’s no way I can comfortably fit what I want into 3 separate sections. Part 3 will be out when this hits 15 notes! Thank you to everyone that liked and interacted with the first part. And thank you to the fans of my toher works. I love all of you omg. Enjoy ♥

Chapter Summary: The social Season has officially begun. Deals are being made amongst friends and old flames are fanning. Will there be any sparks igniting as well?

“What do you suspect he wants to talk about?” After the morning activities with Lord Haas in the drawing-room, Y/n and her handmaid found themselves busy with average daily activities.  

Caroline’s expression was nonplussed as she stared at the back of Y/n’s head. The women were preparing Y/n for bed. The latter was in her chair as the housemaid brushed through her hair.

“Why must you give me that look every time I open my mouth?”

“Why must such ridiculous things come out of your mouth every time you open it?”

They discovered Shayne in his favorite study, books littering the desk he occupied. Y/n would always ask him when he planned on attending university but the young man tended to reply with something akin to “that’s not for me”. The young woman didn’t understand. She knew how smart her twin was, how clever he could be given the situation. Mayhaps one day he’d see the things he could accomplish.

“To what do I owe this visit?” The fair-haired man asked as his sister sat at the opposite side of his desk. A rather thick tome set open before him while his right hand held a fountain pen to sheets of parchment.

Y/n perched her arms along the length of the armrests and sat comfortably. “I thought I might see what you’re up to. But I find that you’re doing nothing different than normal. When are you going to talk to Father about university?”

Shayne restraint from rolling his eyes visible as he went back to his books, and scratching at the parchment. “When are you going to talk to me about Courtney?”

“What? That has nothing to do with...Shayne. My favorite twin, you could be doing so many more things if you were off to study. Collegiately.”

This caused the young man to sigh. “Y/n-,”

“I’m being serious here, Shayne. You’re in here, every day, reading and writing. It’s almost a different book a week. Sometimes, your nose is in a book about far-off adventures in distant lands and sometimes it’s about the history and tragedies of the lands around us. Look that book right there.” She motioned to the collection of parchment before Shayne. “I gather that one is not Shakespeare. What is it? The history of France?”  

Shayne lowered his head back to the pages before putting his pen back on the parchment, not meeting his sister’s eyes. “Spain, as a matter of fact.”

Y/n held a blank countenance. 

“I’m trying my hand at the Spanish language. Does that quell your curiosity?”

Y/n smirked. “You’re just proving my point.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” The young man laid his fountain pen on the parchment and clasped his hands together before leaning forward. “I’ll talk to Father about university if you read and respond to Courtney’s letter..”

The young woman grumbled and stood up from her chair. “Suddenly, I have a desire for some poetry. Caroline, I’ll be in the library. I’ll call for you if I need you.”

The handmaid nodded from where she stood by the fireplace, her hands clasped in front of her as Y/n walked to the door. “Of course.”

Y/n turned one last glance to her twin before exiting the room and found Caroline in the chair Y/n’s ownself just left. The handmaid was smiling at Shayne as he talked. The rosy tint to Caroline’s cheeks as the man laughed sparked Y/n’s curiosity yet still managed to make her smile. It was cute if she had to be honest. The handmaid had the tendency, lately, to be quieter than usual. While yes, Caroline was well-mannered and modest, it was different when Shayne was around. Had it just been the two women, Caroline could be witty. Y/n enjoyed that in the handmaid. It was refreshing and reminded her of a long-lost friend.

“For Heaven’s sake, Courtney. You’re not even here but you’re still here.” The young woman fiddled with a woven bracelet made from brightly colored twine.

“Y/n?” A voice called from next to her as her hand was on the doorknob to the library.

“Oh, Lord Haas! I did not realize you were here.” Y/n peered behind her companion and to her own left and right, in case she missed any other person.

“It’s just me. And please, call me Damien. We’ve known each other since we were young, back when we had all of our friends amongst us.” The duke gave a gentle pleading look. 

“I was a tad cheeky back then. I wasn’t going to call you by any title.”

Damien cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You’re still a tad cheeky to this day. Am I wrong?”

Y/n’s matched his smirk before opening the door to the library and making her way inside. A witty remark was caught in her throat when her eyes caught someone standing next to the nearest shelving of books.

“Court-Courtney?” Her hand slipped off of the knob of the door. “What are you doing here?”

The light-haired woman bit her lip. “I wanted to visit. You never responded to any of my letters. I thought...I thought maybe something had happened.”

“You...I can’t...Excuse me.” The young woman turned around in haste and scurried away. She found herself in the empty kitchen trying to breathe through what just happened.

Good going. You’re such a coward.

“I’m such a coward.”

“No, you’re not.” Damien had followed her into the cooking area. He led her to a chair and guided her to sit. “Some refreshment might make it better?”

Y/n watched her old friend as he went about collecting items. She noticed how at ease he seemed going through her icebox and cupboards. How expertly he sliced up fruit. She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in his livery, as well, but there was enough going on inside of her head. Damien approached the table with a modest platter and placed it in the center of the table before he sat himself in a chair across from her.

“I figure that some soft cheese might do some good as well as figs and berries. I hope they comfort you the way they do me.” He had gestured towards the food.

Y/n gave a thankful nod before reaching for a bite. “Thank you, Damien. This means very much to me.”

The man grabbed fig and brie, biting into them. “If you need to talk, I’m all ears. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. But I’m here.”

Y/n fidgeted with a slice of fig fruit. She mentally weighed her options before speaking again. “I haven’t seen Courtney in over a year. We got into an argument...about the things she wanted to do and where she wanted to be in life. I regret it. I regret it every day. I let our relationship ...decay...because I didn’t approve of what she wanted to do.”

“She wanted to work with horses, right? And entertain? That’s where she’s been this whole time?” Damien bit into some brie.

“I was treating her like she was someone like me. Someone that already had their life plans laid out for them. She was able to choose what she wanted in life.”

The young man studied Y/n’s face. “Y/n, were you...jealous that she had such an opportunity to live a dream that you tried burning bridges with her? She was your best friend. That had to be a hard decision to make.”

“It’s about more than that. I’m happy she was able to live how she wanted to...thrilled that she got to work with her passions. But..I wasn’t there with her. She wasn’t with me. It didn’t matter what she was doing...I just wanted it to be with..with me. 

“I had this asinine vision that society would be in a different place by now. That two close friends could...be closer. And that I wouldn’t have to feel like I was left alone for the rest of my life. I see so many friendships for what they could be. The feelings that I’ve had over someone that will never be attainable I see in others. All of the time. Especially while I promenade! And it makes me sad for those yearning and it reminds me of what I can never have.”

There was a moment of silence before Y/n’s eyes widened in the realization of what she had just let out. “Oh my. I-You didn’t hear any of what I just said. Promise me!”

Damien laid a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “I promise. I had no idea that you had harbored such...persuasions. Not that it’s anything you need to feel sorry about. You can’t help it. Your reactions, for sure, but...not for what you feel.”

“You, Lord Haas, will make someone a fine husband someday. Maybe even sometime soon? It is our season, finally, after all.” Y/n tried to hide her watery eyes behind a coy smirk. “Someone is bound to catch your eye.”

Damien breathed out before responding. “Someone already has, if I’m being honest. But maybe I’m far-reaching more than I originally thought.”

His words seemed to spark a sense of excitement through Y/n. She sat up straight and gripped the edges of the table.

“Who is she? Will you point her out to me while we promenade? No. I have an even better idea; can you introduce her to me at one of the balls?” Y/n was nearly on the edge of her seat. “Damien! This is exciting!”

“It’s not quite that intriguing, I promise you. Especially since nothing can come of it.” The man picked at the fruit on the platter. “But I digress. It seems that you’ve got your own sorting out to do. What are you going to do about callers if Courtney plans on joining in on the festivities this season? She may not come from one of the families but she has enough friends.”

“Then I hope she enjoys herself. For all I know, everything I felt could have been my very own thoughts and not hers. If she’s here to find a match, then let her. If she’s here to have fun, then by all means...I hope she has it. I just hope I can keep my heart to myself this time. I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“Y/n,” The man licked his lips before continuing. “Might I suggest trying to find out what exactly it is that your heart wants before you do anything else with it?”

The young woman topped her fig slice with some brie. “I’m going to pretend that you did not just offer such advice. Who would even think about courting a woman trying to figure out whether or not she wants her story to end with another woman? You slay me, Lord Haas.”

“I’m being entirely serious. Y/n, you could…” Damien seemed to pause before paying very close attention to fiddling with a berry. “We could stop your callers from coming around and maybe I could use a distraction. We could work together.”

“What? Like...you and I? Together together?”

The german-born duke hesitated before taking one of Y/n’s hands into both of his. “We could go to promenade as a match. And then to the balls, And the parties. No one would be the wiser. You could use this time to figure out what it is you truly want. And then who.”

The young woman looked down at their hands, hers fitting inside his the way she suspects other women her age dream of, yet, she wasn’t sure what it did to her. What he offered could very much help her, but what if Courtney got the wrong idea? What if everyone got the wrong idea?

“But what if it went right?”

“Hmm?” Damien asked in confusion.

“Nevermind.” Y/n shook the thoughts from her head. “Damien, I think...you may be on to something. You’re right. I...I don’t know how to be a...a wife to anyone. Let alone a man. And I won’t know until I figure myself out a little bit more. And then if this girl is running through your mind and you firmly believe that you can never court her…”

“Trust in me with this. I always thought she was someone I could never hope to marry, far too good for me in so many ways. But...maybe this will help me to see who else is out there. Maybe I’ll find my perfect match. And if we come out as a couple, it’ll provide good reason for the other men to leave you alone.”

“Too bad they just don’t leave me alone as is.”

“I believe Olivia said the same thing after she met Sam.”

“Heavens, that was a riot.” Y/n lifted her pinky to solidify the agreement with her friend. “Lord Damien Haas, I believe we might have ourselves a deal.”

[dweetwise]

Felix and Ace having met before. Ace won a grand prize at the table and got an executive suite. Though his next door neighbor was Felix who was here on a business meeting to design a similar casino. (I am sorry I love imagining people meeting people before the fog)

this isn’t exactly what you asked for buuuut i needed to write something for waiter ace and you blessed me with this ask uwu also if you didn’t want a ship i’m sorry but that’s what i assumed! warning for closeted felix and mentions of the s3x but nothing nsfw actually happens

word count: 1860

Felix X Ace: Strictly Business

Felix wasn’t exactly prepared for the fog to transport him into another dimension. He'd read some theories, sure, and he'd seen his father disappear into thin air all those years ago, but to experience it first-hand was another thing entirely.

He also didn't expect the world in question to be controlled by an eldritch being that forced its captured victims into a gruesome game of hide and seek, killing and resurrecting him and others at will.

But he sure as hell didn't expect to come face to face with the biggest mistake of his life.

It takes Felix a minute to recognize the man, the small camp having so many new faces and names to memorize and they’re all speaking over each other—it's a lot to take in. But then he spots a familiar face, and everything the ginger woman is trying to explain to him becomes white noise as the man he focuses on laughs at something a boy in a beanie says.

Felix’s thoughts drift back to what feels like a lifetime ago, when he was on a business trip in Austria, staying at a luxurious casino. 

Him and a couple of other junior architects were invited to design an expansion to the building, and the best idea would be hired. Felix hated competition, he hated having to work on the field, and he hated the lavish, over-the-top style of the casino. But he was only starting to get his name out there, and couldn't afford to turn down any opportunities—if he played his cards right, this could be his stepping stone into more high-profile projects. Maybe he'd get to design an entire casino next time, without the twenty fake fountains and fuck-awful gold trims.

They were waited on like VIP:s while attending meetings in lavish conference rooms and bullshit marketing presentations about the brand. It was basically an all-inclusive stay, but Felix still despised it. He would have given anything to skip the unnecessary pleasantries and stay at home to draw the designs in peace.

He hated it right up until one of the waiters serving their mid-presentation coffees caught him suppressing a yawn and gave him a cheeky wink and a smirk. Felix had blinked, thinking he imagined it, but the more he kept staring, the more the waiter's smile seemed to widen.

Felix wasn't gay, but being an architect, he could appreciate aesthetically pleasing things in life. Like the waiter's symmetrical face, high cheekbones and good hairline. And eyes that sparkled with mischief even while he was outwardly completely professional.

And the way his work pants clung to his perky ass.

The waiter was suddenly a hundred times more interesting to him than the entire project. The project was predictable, and Felix once again found himself drawn to the unknown.

It wasn't a challenge to get the man's attention. He only had to linger behind after a dinner, and soon enough, there was a gloved hand brushing fleetingly against his neck as the man collected his plate. With the rest of the group having moved on, and Felix having had more than a few drinks, he'd asked if there was any possibility for room service. He was rewarded a lopsided grin and warm eyes shimmering with promise.

He always was much smoother when drunk off his ass.

He doesn't even remember what he'd designed by the end of his five-day-stay in the casino. He only remembers fucking the cute waiter against the tacky gold-trimmed headboard of the king-sized bed in his suite. And in the hot tub. And in a supply closet. It was a long week, okay?

His companion was named Luca. He'd only been working in the casino for a few months and was thinking of moving back to Italy, not being a fan of gambling or the over-the-top establishment. He had a charming accent and only spoke a couple of words of German, forcing Felix to use his own shaky English.

It was a shallow thing. Felix tried to keep his personal life private, and he definitely left out the part where he had a girlfriend back home. He'd ended up exaggerating his professional success, but wasn’t that what people did? He was just trying to make a good impression, 

After the week, Felix never talked to the other man again. He got home, unpacked his bags, and freaked out. He didn't even want to think about how unprofessional he'd been and how risky it was.

And definitely not about how much he'd enjoyed it.

The more he tried suppressing the thoughts, the more insistent they got. His brain was periodically invaded by images of warm brown eyes, expressive lips twisting into a hundred different smiles, and a laugh resonating in his ear, rich like his favorite double-roast coffee. The memories had haunted him for close to a decade, and he thought he'd finally gotten past them, ready to be a good father that had his shit together.

But here he is, seeing the same brown eyes light up with the same carefree smile and the sound of the same damn laugh echoing through the air and all the memories come flooding back.

The woman next to him hollers something to the group, and the familiar face looks his way. Even with the now grey hair and added wrinkles, Felix still finds himself just as transfixed as he'd been ten years ago.

He's introduced to the group, but he only really remembers one name and the overwhelming sense of wrongness that follows it; Ace. The revelation isn’t made any easier when he notices there isn't even a flicker of recognition in the eyes he remembers so fondly.

In the following couple of trials, Felix is only disappointed further. “Ace” doesn’t have an Italian accent anymore, in fact Felix catches him instead saying something in Spanish to the woman in a blazer. He’s also very keen on gambling, and the shiny satin smoker jacket he wears in one trial could have been straight from the tacky casino they met in. Was anything he told Felix about himself true?

It takes him a while to confront the man, debating back and forth inside his head. All of his focus should be on finding his father, and he needs to keep these people at arm’s length. Ace not remembering him is the best possible outcome of their brief past together, he tries to rationalize.

But in the end, curiosity wins over rationality, and when the opportunity presents itself, Felix is unable to resist.

“You really don't remember me, do you?” Felix asks, alone in the camp until Ace returns from a trial. The man pauses, eyebrows pinching together in confusion “I didn't leave you to die on hook, did I?” Ace asks. “That happens sometimes.” “No, I mean back in the other world,” Felix explains. “We've… met?” Ace asks.

Well. If that's what you want to call it.

“Yes,” Felix simply says and immediately, Ace cringes. “I'm sorry?” he offers. “Excuse me?” “I can count on one hand the people I've encountered who remember me fondly. There's a 99% chance you hate my guts, so I figured I'd get it over with quickly," Ace explains, seeming a little wary. “I don't hate you, I just can't believe you'd forget and… lie.” “Oh, I… I do that. Did—whatever. Nothing personal,” Ace shrugs. “I really don’t remember you, sorry.” “Casino in Vienna. 2011. I stayed at the hotel for a week. You were a waiter. You said your name was Luca. We—” Felix hesitates. “…'met'.” 

Multiple times on multiple surfaces.

“Vienna, huh? Hmm... Oh!” Ace's face suddenly lights up. “You were one of the suits, right? Some kind of… lawyer?” "Architect,” Felix corrects, a little miffed. “Same deal,” Ace dismisses with a wave of his hand. “So, are you still neck-deep in the closet?” “What?” Felix recoils. “That's—I'm not gay. It was a one-time-thing.” “That would be a yes,” Ace muses, almost as to himself. “So you do remember? All of it?” Felix prods. “Guess so. What, you want a repeat performance?” Ace asks, raising an eyebrow. “No! I just…” Felix falters. 

‘Wanted to make sure you didn't forget me because I’ve been thinking about you for the past ten years’? No way he’s admitting to any of that, so he puts on his business face.

“Wanted to come clean. So we're on the same page. To avoid any awkwardness,” Felix says instead, and it’s definitely not as smooth as he would have liked. “Right…” Ace says, regarding him skeptically.

There's a few seconds of extremely awkward silence while Ace just stares at him and Felix looks into the fire, trying to keep his face neutral and not sweat bullets. Eventually Ace sighs.

“Look, can I give you some friendly advice?” he asks. “I… I guess so," Felix says, a little confused. “Drop the act,” Ace says, looking him dead in the eye. “The manly man, excited father, respectable lawyer—” “Architect,” Felix, again, corrects in annoyance. “—suit guy thing, whatever. It's not going to serve you any purpose in here. These people see right through any bullshit, trust me on that one,” Ace adds with a knowing smile that Felix has never seen before.

He doesn't have any time to think of a reply before they're interrupted, the girl with a beanie cussing up a storm while a young guy in a sailor uniform sits down in front of Ace expectantly and the man cracks a joke and immediately starts tending to the bloody gash in the kid's shoulder.

The wound is bleeding heavily but the duo keeps chatting without a care in the world. Felix remembers he got a gauze roll from the… blood web?—and he rifles through his meager belongings before approaching the two.

“You… um,” Felix stammers, holding out the item to Ace. “Would this help?” “Cool!" the teen chirps while Ace takes the offered item silently, regarding Felix with an unreadable expression. "Thanks—uhh, what was your name again?" the kid grins sheepishly. “Felix,” he says. “And… yours?” he asks, swallowing his pride and now hesitantly curious to learn more about his companions. “I'm Steve! This is Ace, and the moping bitch over there is Nea!” Steve exclaims with a bright smile that shows his bloodied teeth. “Dude, fuck off!" the girl, Nea, calls. “Hey Felix, anyone teach you how to use a flashlight yet?" “No, not really," Felix confesses, cautiously approaching the girl. “I understand the need for tools and medical supplies, but… what would you use a torch for?” ------------------ “So how's the new guy holding up?” Steve asks. Ace looks over to where Felix is sitting with Nea. “Allvarligt—förstår du mig inte?” Nea has apparently moved on from flashlight training to Swedish lessons. “For the last time, your Swedish sounds like gibberish to me," Felix explains. "Just because the languages are related—" “Sheiße,” Nea interrupts with a grin, moving to swear in German. “A multilingual genius, I see,” Felix deadpans. “He's learning,” Ace says, hiding his own hopeful smile behind the fluffy hair of the boy he's patching up.

(nea’s line: “seriously, you don’t understand me?”) i’m not 100% happy w this fic, esp since it’s about a new character but it’s a start at least! i also really wanted to throw in a “sure you’re hot but you were so boring i forgot all about you” line but it didn’t fit and now you just have to imagine that’s what ace was thinking

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 04

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader |  Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary:  Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Implied mental health struggles, anxiety and slight panic attack

Word Count: 2.9k 

< masterpost >

  »»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

  Another three days passing brought forth another fresh steaming pile of emotions. 

I was due to start my job at Bighit in the following week, and had been dropping in to meet with Bang PD and the staff regularly since the initial signing of the documents. Its only purpose was just for me to get to know everyone, since I would start off in the company playing a major role, and for me to get comfortable in the environment. PD-nim knew I was not used to working for such large and renowned companies, and I was so happy he had taken that into consideration.

Another meet-and-greet done today, and I was trembling. 

I didn’t know why it had all suddenly decided to drop on me now, but my only solace was the splash of vivid crimson sitting out in the otherwise monochrome carpark of the building. I yanked open the car door with shaking fingers and all but fell into the familiar leather seat, my breathing uneven from the tightening within my chest.

Don’t get me wrong at all, the company was absolutely amazing, and so were all the staff and their immediate hospitality. Bang PD was like a second father to me already, and I’d even had him ruffle my hair once today after he’d somehow managed to laugh at one of my jokes. His assistant, which I now knew as Chang Soojin, or just Soojin-unni as she had told me to use, was becoming a reliable colleague and friend pretty quickly too. I had met many members of the staff, including the co-ordi noonas, managers, stylists etc. Even a group of interpreters who specialised in specific languages.

Hence why they employed me so quickly, I’d thought to myself after finding out they only knew English and Korean.

There was that one Spanish interpreter, who had been absent on the ‘fateful day’, but he was now doing fine and had profusely apologised to me afterwards. I felt bad for the guy, as I probably seemed like a warning replacement if anything of disarray was to happen again.

Bighit can be bloody scary, damn.

My breathing had evened slightly, but stress was still causing my head to become a mess of jagged scribbles. So much had changed in my life recently, and even if it had an overall positive effect, my mind was still left reeling. This was the kind of sudden responsibility that made me want to revisit my childhood days, to let go of being an adult and to be surrounded by nothing but carefree bliss.

A light rapping on my car passenger window tore me from my strangling thoughts. I gasped, squinting my eyes to glimpse at the darkly clothed figure before sighing. The person had thoroughly frightened me, and I wasn’t very happy about it. They crouched down to look in, and when they saw I was making no move to stop them, they pulled open the passenger door hesitantly.

“Is this Uber operating?” Yoongi softly asked.

I was still irritated that my precious alone-time had been ruined, after going through quite a bit of anxiety about my life in general, but I couldn’t bring myself to refuse the impassive man at the moment. After even more thought, I concluded that having someone to talk to would in fact help me the most right now. When I nodded slowly, sighing again in an attempt to regather myself, he lowered his head in gentle understanding.

“Uh, if it’s a really bad time I-”

“No, Yoongi. Wait is it even okay to not use honorifics? Should I call you oppa?” I shook my head, my voice steadily gaining life again from how croaky it sounded before. I hadn’t cried, but I was definitely on the verge before he’d made his appearance.

Yoongi settled into the passenger seat holding a lidded coffee cup. He was dressed in dark but flowy clothing, and I questioned his sanity briefly considering how hot it was outside. It was mid-afternoon at the moment, but we both didn’t seem to have schedules planned.

“Even though I’m not against it, I feel like dropping the honorifics would work better for you. I won’t get offended,” he hummed, sipping his coffee. I noticed how tired his eyes were under the cap he wore, and instantly felt bad for being annoyed with him before. He adorned a black mask too, but it was sitting under his chin to make talking and drinking easier.

“Did you also want coffee? I could offer to get you one.”

His sudden question caused me to blink in confusion. Then I realised I had been eyeing the cup in his pale hands quite intensely. His dark eyes were blank and his pale blue-white hair was slightly roughened from the breeze outside. Trying not to fawn over him, I broke out into a strained chuckle while my hands came up to slap my cheeks in embarrassment.

“No no no, I wasn’t…Ah I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on at the moment.” I decided to let the cat out of the bag with another sigh. He may as well know what was going on behind my outwardly apparent emotions. I didn’t even know how I was meant to hold a decent conversation when my insides were such a nervous wreck. I knew I would build myself up again eventually, but he just happened to catch me at a vulnerable time.

“Yeah, I could tell,” he started. “I followed you out because I saw you running out here shaking like a leaf. I guess it sounds kind of creepy when put like that.” He shrugged, eyeing the dashboard of my car while I just tried to take in his quiet observation.

“No, actually I appreciate it. You haven’t even met me yet…ugh why am I doing everything backwards right now?” I rested my head onto the steering wheel, positively exasperated. Yoongi and I had never even held a conversation before, but here I was acting like a total idiot and making him worry about my mental health.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re all I hear about these days.” He sighs with a groan, letting his head roll back to rest against the leather headrest. My own curiosity was tickled.

“Really? Let me guess, ‘the crazy Uber chick who somehow managed to get herself involved with shit that didn’t concern her’?”

He laughed silently at that, the gummy smile melting my bundling insides into a puddle – and suddenly everything was alright.

I didn’t have to have everything in my life figured out right now, I just had to make the most of my time with these amazingly driven individuals who had undoubtedly captured my heart. Alongside this job which was actually my passion to begin with.

I didn’t even know how I hadn’t freaked out over the fact that the Min Yoongi, worldwide famous producer and rapper, was sitting in my car. He was sitting in the same seat the Park Jimin had sat in about a week and a half ago. I needed to shut down my brain before it began to burn a hole into the back of my skull from overworking.

“That would be funny, but no, definitely not. I just wish the young ones would let me sleep, but they’ve been excited. I swear I’ve already met you ten times at this point.”

I snort in amusement, absolutely loving how blunt he was about the whole situation. Too many people, since I had arrived in the country, were overbearingly polite and careful with their words. I was not used to it at all, and it made the ‘foreign’ experience all the more jarring. Yoongi probably understood this to an extent, so I was grateful he tried his best to be more casual right away.

“Look, can I start driving? I just need to clear my head a bit. Maybe I can introduce myself properly.” I exhaled loudly, my nerves significantly calmed since chatting a little. Even though I felt terrible at the thought, I couldn’t help but be grateful that it was Yoongi who had paid me a surprise visit instead of one of the others. His presence was somewhat reserved and I had trouble reading the guy half the time, but his company was the type I needed instead of something loud and overwhelming.

“Sure, I did kind of barge in so you can continue with whatever you were doing.”

You mean almost having a mental breakdown?

“But I do want to actually meet you, because if I have to hear your name around the dorm one more fucking time without knowing who you are, I may just snap.”

I laughed loudly, his grunt-worthy words causing amusement to roil around in my chest. I figured I would question him about exactly what was said a bit later. For now, I just needed to relax and ease my worries, and driving was my channel for exactly that. I started reversing out of the carpark with silence finally befalling the car, grateful to finally leave behind the line of black company vans surrounding me. I found it ominous if I was completely honest. Engulfed by the view of several identical black vans was a little unsettling when the only car I was used to was Red.

When did I even decide to name my car? It’s such a boring name too.

“Well, I can start by saying my name is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n) is fine, and you already known I don’t care for honorifics. I’m from (Y/c), and I landed a job at Bighit Entertainment by letting two of your band members hitch a ride. Ultimately escaping their foreseeable deaths.” My dramatic tone increased the longer I spoke, and I could see the corners of Yoongi’s lips turning up gradually.

“That sounds about right. Jiminie told me you were a big fan, but it turns out you are really collected when you see us. I appreciate your efforts, but feel free to let it out if you need.” He tilted his head with a smirk, his ‘Genius Suga’ persona surfacing within the span of two whole seconds. I just bit my lip to contain another amused giggle.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not one to freak out after the initial shock. Most of my extra-ness is of the internal type, I’m afraid.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment, eventually flashing me that endearing expression where his lips stretched across his whole face. I covered my cheeks with one hand to stop my bubbling amusement from erupting.

“Stop please, or I’ll crash!”

He simply sipped his coffee, smirking again at my reaction. I knew I hadn’t actually doused his ego, but his antics still aided in lifting my spirits higher and higher. As I tried to figure out where I wanted to drive, Yoongi pulled out a small notepad full of scrawled notes and scribbled out lines.

“Well, you already know who I am, that much I can guess. Now that we’ve met, I can tell those kids to shut up and do something useful,” he continued. Even though his tone was full of complaint, I knew he loved every single one of those boys wholeheartedly.

“Where are they now?” I asked through a smile, glancing down as the rapper flicked through his notepad to the page he had last used. “Practicing more, at least I know Jiminie, Jin-hyung and Jungkook-ah are. We’ve got a big concert and a comeback soon, so everyone is riled up.”

“Yeah, that seems like a packed schedule for at least a few months. I’m really excited for what you guys have in store though, it seems too unreal that I actually get to see everything behind the scenes for the first time in my life,” I sighed out in awe, thinking about a possible new album and new content. How could I even go about it normally when everything was different? Wait, was I going to get a discounted album? I surely hoped so.

Yoongi looked at me carefully before making a few notes in his notepad, his fingers working the pen deftly through long and hardened experience. His ripped black jeans were tighter than I initially thought they were, but my attention only went there because he was tapping his foot rhythmically as he wrote.

“Lyrics?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow in his direction and diverting my attention. I drove towards the outskirts of Seoul, hoping to find somewhere quiet and peaceful to settle for a bit. The time had essentially flown by, but I was sure the sky wouldn’t darken just yet.

“Yeah, just the usual. I help write a lot of songs, and lyrics always just flood into my brain at the most random times, you know?” he murmured, flicking backwards to another page and filling in another empty space.

The realisation that I was driving somewhere random and unknown hit me suddenly, and I briefly wondered if taking Yoongi with me would end up costing me my job all too soon. I was quickly reminded of a similar occurrence with two maknaes, one that caused the managers and Namjoon to lose their absolute marbles.

“Um, I was gonna drive randomly around the area, but I just realised that your managers would skin me alive if they knew I took you with me. Does anyone know you’re with me?”

Yoongi looked up, his eyes, which were once laser-focused on his lyrics, now scoured into my own and I gulped suddenly. His long, dark eyelashes were always beautiful, but they were even more mesmerising in person and this close. They contrasted so nicely against his milky skin that I almost lost focus on the road again.

I may just crash and kill someone one of these days. Customer or not.

“I texted a few people,” was all he said before returning to his notepad, and I shrugged indifferently. He was an adult, and he could make his own decisions. I just hoped I didn’t cop any roastings for it later on.

“Would I be able to show you something?” he then asked.

I glanced sideways, catching him picking at his nails with his teeth apprehensively. It seemed he was stuck on something to do with a lyric, but I didn’t know how I could possibly lend a hand. His lyrics were always so impactful and flowed so nicely. How could I form my own opinion when everything I’d heard from him so far was nothing less than beautiful?

“Yeah? Did you need another perspective?” I probed, willing my feelings of disbelief down into the depths of my subconscious.

“Well, I’m trying to tie together my verse in one of the new songs, and I almost have it. I want someone fresh to have a look.” He held out the pad and I pulled over onto the side of the smaller road. We were now definitely nearing the more ‘picturesque’ side of Seoul anyway, and the city fell away behind us as my eyes scanned over Yoongi’s handwriting. The last line struck a chord deeply within me.

“This is real you, and this is real me” – which one is “you”? Which one is “me”?

“Wow, this really hits hard,” I breathe, reading over the snippets of the verse he had written again to fully absorb what was going on. The whole thing was emotional, and raw. I could imagine his voice rapping hard to form these thoughts, the angry and hurt emotions seeping in.

“I can feel the struggle through the lyrics. It’s like you’ve been through a false love that you threw yourself into after believing it was true...a betrayal of sorts, I guess?” I met his eyes again and grew a little confused when a chuckle of irony fell from him. It must have been some joke I didn’t understand.

“I’m glad you feel so much from it.” He blinked. “I’m actually going to try a different technique with this track, so expect some changes from my usual style.”

He then smiled again, taking the notepad before I could catch any glimpses of the other notes. I couldn’t contain a soft huff of annoyance. “You’re not just gonna tell me?”

He deadpanned before parting his lips to respond. “Just because you work for Bighit doesn’t mean you get every special privilege.” I almost reeled at the thought of bothering him with my question, but he only smiled again while tucking his notepad away.

“Plus, you’re a fan, so my goal is to keep it a secret for as long as possible.”

“Mean,” I grunted, pulling out onto the road again so I could start to head home. The sky was darkening, and I knew there were only so many boundaries I could push before I crossed the line. Yoongi seemed to know this too, but he avoided addressing the subject for some reason.

“Where do you want to be dropped? I’ll have you know I’ve been charging you handsomely for this Uber service,” I muttered, still pretending to be pissed off at him for hiding information.

“I’ll buy you a coffee next time, I promise.”

          Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved

tagged: @l4life​, @joyful-jimin​

[cir]

Fall: September.

Peter lifts his head but doesn't bother even trying a smile. "Hey."

"Hey?" Junmyeon doesn't offer a smile either, and it's one of the traits Peter has admired about him, even if they've really only met in person a few times that he could count on one hand.

"Am I allowed to come in?"

"..."

"..."

"Do I have a choice to send you away?"

"Not really."

They both give a half snort before Junmyeon cracks the door open fully and Peter makes his way in. Even if he doesn't see it, he knows Junmyeon's watching him more carefully than he shows, simply at the request of Brian.

Peter would have his eyes all around Junmyeon's house, curious about his interior choices and furnishings -- but he just doesn't have it in him, and definitely not the leisure. He has a hundred thoughts in his head but at the same time, none that he can fully articulate, not even to himself, let alone another person.

"Sorry for barging in." He heads straight to the first chair he sees, placing his luggage by the side before leaning his body's weight against the chair. "I'll leave tomorrow night. I had the choice to just buy a ticket straight back to Paris at the airport when I landed, but they said the first ticket out wasn't direct and I really didn't want to get on a plane with two connecting stops and..."

Peter looks up at this moment, because it's not like of him to be running his mouth so much and he's expected the other to stop his rambling at some point. Instead, Junmyeon's eyes are trained on him, just letting him finish. He wonders why he's given so much patience, when they barely much know each other. It's strange, but he sees the same warmth in Junmyeon that is in Brian, and it's both welcoming and disheartening at once.

"I just need a place to sleep a couple of hours... and the hotels around here are extremely over priced. And... I don't really know the area anyway. I... I don't know. I'm not sure." He feels much unlike himself, making so many excuses.

The raw truth is that he doesn't want to be alone, at least not tonight.

Junmyeon doesn't respond right away. It makes Peter nervous for some odd reason, until Junmyeon comes over to him and makes a motion with his fingers.

"Give me your jacket and go take a shower."

Fall: October.

"May not be my place to ask this, since I know you're not much of a talker... but." He crosses his arms and tilts his head. There's pity spread all across his face, and Peter feels even worse because of it. "You doing alright? Like I said, I don't mean to intrude, but you've been making a lot of small mistakes that's very unlike you, the most detail oriented person I know at this company."

"And beyond your work... you just haven't seemed the same."

Peter grips the laptop at his side a little tighter. He doesn't know why he should have to feel this defensive about his state of being. Right now, in this moment, all he wants to do is exist, and even that seems overbearing and difficult. He felt better compared to a month ago, or at least —

He was mistaking feeling less for feeling better.

"I'm doing okay." He manages to say, adjusting his glasses. "It's just the busy season, I think." There's a bit of silence before Peter realizes he's supposed to say more. "Oh, and I got a cat. Maybe it's the cat." Peter murmurs, his voice starting to crawl into a hole of it's own. He's starting to mumble, and he's hiding his fingers behind his back, fumbling with them. Brian would've told him he was doing the thing, and even now he's still lingering in his thoughts.

"It is the cat. Definitely the cat. I didn't know cats were so much work."

"A cat." His boss says.

"A cat." Peter repeats.

His boss doesn't look convinced at all, but to Peter's thankfulness, he drops the topic of conversation. "Alright, well. Just shave every once in a while, at least when you come into the office. And some sleep. Even HR is getting worried if we're abusing you from your dark circles."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Not a warning, just a suggestion." The other hands over a folder to Peter, before adding, "...as a friend."

Normal him would've said something a bit impulsive and possibly offensive, but he's got no energy for it. Instead, he gives another thanks with a nod of his head.

Winter: February.

He paints his nails, black.

It's something he had always thought about doing, but never did because of a fear of being seen a certain way. As unprofessional. Weird. Hipster. Strange. Goth.

Gay.

Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with himself as he had thought to be. And yet, he had given Brian so much fire for being too careful about their relationship around outside peers, his fans, and his parents.

"You know I'm gay, right?" Peter asks, or more so states. He's playing around with his fingers while sitting besides Dowoon at the restaurant table.

It brings up a blink from Dowoon, who swallows something down his throat. Even if Dowoon's slightly out of his line of sight, the redness of his ears is enough for Peter to know — and it's not from the alcohol in front of them.

"Uh, yeah, I know. I.. I know."

"Okay."

A wave of silence passes, and he hears Dowoon swallowing a few more times. He laughs, and Dowoon gives him a strange look at him.

"Why are you laughing?" Dowoon asks, genuinely curious.

"Because of you." Peter answers. "And I think I'm tipsy."

"That's nice. I mean. Not being drunk, but... I mean..." Peter notes the way his ears grow even redder, and begin to wonder what's more red between him and the wine in his glass. "I like it when you laugh."

Another bit of quietness rests between them, before Dowoon looks like he wants to say something. Instead, he leans near, close enough for it to be questionable. He doesn't move any closer, and instead lets Peter decide for himself. Peter closes the remaining distance between them, pressing their lips together.

Up till now, he had thought it better that Brian remained an absence so that they remained a question. And yet, in this very moment, it no longer felt like a question, and more than an answer — and the wrong one.

Spring: April.

"Maybe the universe is telling you to move on."

"I think you're telling me to move on." Peter replies, giving his best friend a look.

"So I'm your universe now? Predictable. I always knew you were in love with me. I get it. You're into the best friends to lovers trope. Maybe we can make it happen."

"Uh huh." Peter runs the tip of his thumbs around the rim of his cup, staring at the coffee in it. It's long lost it's warmth, distasteful and lukewarm. He feels quite like it, just as in between even with two entire seasons past. "I'm taking time off. I asked for brunch because I was wondering if that... photographing across Europe trip together was still on the table."

"You mean the trip we planned together in middle school?" Youngjin raises a brow, with a playful grin.

"Merde. We planned that in middle school?"

"You were way more full of dreams when you were younger. Remember, you wanted to get married to an electric violinist and be in a traveling band with them with two kids exactly two years apart. Also with six cats or one hamster. And also wanted to become the first Spanish-Asian president of Spain or something."

"Right."

"Working in a cubicle definitely changed you. But..." Youngjin nudges at Peter's side, meeting his eyes. "...the adventurer Pillie still in there somewhere."

"Sure."

"I know because I saw bits of it again when you were dating him."

Summer: May.

“You’re leaving for work tomorrow morning?”

"Yeah, I... wasn’t really thinking when I got on the plane and accidentally used up all my vacation days.” A genuine laugh leaves Peter, as he scratches the back of his neck.

“I thought you always had like three or four weeks saved by this time of the year?” Brian is more observant of him now, if he could be any more so than before.

"Well I did..." Peter’s hand remains at his neck, now itching at the other side. Even if Peter doesn’t remember so, Brian knows him too well. It’s a habit of his when he gets embarrassed, especially when accompanied by his eyes falling downward to the ground, as they go. “A month ago.”

Brian processes what Peter’s said only afterwards, and it leaves him thinking for a while. It’s strange to imagine Peter of all people not thinking; especially with something as time and energy consuming as flying overseas. Brian tries to imagine it but for some reason can’t— yet when he gets another look at him, he knows it’s the truth. It’s in his disheveled gaze, to his messy hair, unshaven face, and wrongly buttoned shirt.

Nothing about him seems like Peter, yet his smile is the same.

“So you can’t...” stay, he wants to say, but decides on another word. He’s only just come back so it seems too selfish of him to ask of something as heavy. “...come grab breakfast with me tomorrow.” Brian wonders if his smile is enough to assume, or if that’s dangerous.

Peter looks up at him, and his eyes are doing much more of the talking than his words are. It’s the regret lining them; the rue overcasting them. “Mm, no.”

“Okay.” Brian replies.

The street lamp above them flickers a few times, and Peter’s lashes do the same as he blinks quite intentionally once, then twice. His eyes peek over to Brian another time, before letting out a subtle sigh. 

“Can I... try something?”

“...depends on what it is.” Brian replies, and surprises Peter with the response. The Brian he knew wouldn't hesitate to take him up, allow for him to knock at his door and open it without thought. Peter's not used to this Brian, and he seems foreign. Not familiar.

Even Brian seems a bit unsure of his reply, lips still parted open as if he wants to correct himself — but also knowing better than to allow Peter in any deeper. It makes Peter smile again, because it’s respectable, and so different than the man he knows. But instead of letting him give another answer, Peter brings him in for an embrace, throwing his arms around his neck. He buries his head in the crook of him, closing his eyes.

The first thing Peter notices is his change in scent. It’s again, not familiar, but at the base of it still yells Brian. It’s comforting in that way, although new and exciting all at the same time. It’s only when he feels Brian’s hands settling warmly on his back that he lets himself stay there even a bit longer, as if having gotten the permission to do so.

Even in the short moment, Peter tries his best to stretch out time. Not because he wants to linger in it more, but because it seems like he’s been waiting for this bit for the past year.

"If not breakfast... can I take you out to eat a late dinner?"

"Yes." Peter answers, with such certainty and without missing a beat that it surprises Brian. "Please." Peter adds, staying in his arms for a beat too long, with the answer he's gotten over the seasons.

@kingsten

[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter seven.

wc: 2,313. original publish date: october 12, 2020. 

Four-thirty-five looks like every other freeway exit in all of America. JFK pushes firmly down on the brake as the car rolls up to the white line of the intersection. There is a green sign next to the road, and oddly enough, Marshtown is marked in metallic white lettering at the bottom. Printed next to the town name is a right-turn arrow, and even smaller next to that is the number five.

"Five miles," John F. Kennedy says, grinning.

Vincent can't help smiling either. He can still feel JFK's arms wrapped around his torso and the way his chin rested on the taller boy's shoulder. "We're getting close."

"Think it'll be worth it?" John asks, glancing at his passenger.

Van Gogh shrugs. "I sure hope so."

"We've spent all this time romanticising it..." Kennedy starts.

Both boys turn to each other, giddy smiles still plastered across their faces. "Wanna do it some more?" They say in unison, breaking out into boyish giggles afterward.

"God..." Vincent mutters.

"Hm?" John hums as the light turns green. He accelerates.

"I feel like we're little kids again," he says in a sad voice, but the smile is still taught across his lips and Kennedy doesn't know which look to meet his gaze with.

"We were pretty fucking awesome as kids," he tries.

This earns him a grin from Van Gogh. Score. "Yeah. I was cool back then."

John knocks his best friend's arm playfully. "You're still cool, Minivan."

Van Gogh covers his eyes with his hand, mock repulsion surfing the waves of his voice. "God, don't remind me of that nickname!"

"Hey! I might've meant to antagonise you back then, but I promise you: I've changed."

Vincent shakes his head, but he can't help smiling. His cheeks are starting to ache, but his happiness is genuine. "Oh, I know you have. That little five-year-old didn't know how to -- how do you put it? -- 'bang the sweeties'."

Kennedy laughs. "Oh, believe me -- he did."

The car goes silent as the sky fills with fog. It's thick and grey and the windows of the shiny red convertible are already starting to precipitate. Vincent zips his letterman jacket all the way up and tucks his chin into the collar, the cold already starting to set in. Even John has to admit that his knuckles clamp up and go a little white against the steering wheel.

"We must be getting close," Vincent says. The sky hadn't been blue for the earlier part of their drive by any means, but even the clouds that hung in the sky let the faintest bit of sunlight filter through. Now there is a dense blanket of moisture blocking the rays from view.

John goes quiet, suddenly wishing they'd planned the trip. He worries that he'll get in another fight with Van Gogh over where to sleep or how they'll keep themselves entertained in this town that they know next to nothing about. They aren't even sure if it has a marsh or not. But most of all, he fears that Vincent will get cold in the fog or the air will be too wet for him to draw. Part of the reason Kennedy had even vouched for this trip was so that the boy would have a lot of inspiration to paint or sketch or read or write, because above all, John loves his best friend's poetry. But he doesn't know how to tell the boy any of that.

Van Gogh looks across the car as Kennedy starts to drive more defensively, and his brow furrows; not in disgust, but in worry. He notices the boy's white knuckles and the way he grips the steering wheel like he's trying to strangle it. He reaches out and places a hand on his best friend's forearm, rubbing him through the sleeve of his jacket slowly and comfortingly.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

John swallows. "Sorry. Nothing, sorry. Don't worry. I'm okay."

Van Gogh's worried gaze lingers. "Are you sure?"

Kennedy gives his best friend a smile and a nod, but the motion is only half convincing. Vincent sighs and turns away anyway, not sure if he's allowed to push.

A couple seconds of silence pass before Kennedy requests timidly, "Can you, uh, keep doing that? With your hand, on my arm? It feels kinda nice." He laughs at himself sheepishly.

Van Gogh smiles to himself and obliges, happy to keep touching the boy. Er, uh, that came out wrong! He thinks. I'm just doing a good thing for him. Just trying to calm him down. He banishes the first thought, convincing himself that this is an uncomplicated act of kindness that he's doing for his best friend. He'd do anything for Kennedy, right?

Vincent stops rubbing the boy's arm and squeezes instead. With a gasp, he points out the windshield. "John, look!"

In front of them is the Marshtown sign, a yellowish-beige rectangle with dark green trim and text. It's an ugly sign, Van Gogh has to admit; especially from an artist's perspective. It's dilapidated and sinking into the ground, parts of some of the letters missing and splintering. The population number has been knocked off but the word "population" itself is still intact. There is no "welcome" or cheesy slogan. The boys can barely see the road beyond the sign, because the fog seems to have thickened since entering the town.

"Vincent, it's-"

Both boys stare into the fog, jaws dropped and pupils dilated. They are at a loss for words and almost a loss for breath. The road turns into a bridge, and on either side is a marsh, wet and gooey with coarse grass shooting out of it in various locations. The cement is covered in puddles and John slows down the car to ten miles per hour, squinting to see through the fog.

Beyond the marsh is a town. Not much of one, but it's there nonetheless. Every building and house is falling apart -- some are burned down to the foundation, others are missing doors and windows and from what Van Gogh can see, some of them are without floors as well. There is a dense ring of pine trees around the houses and they seem to stretch forever, but then again, John and Vincent have limited vision due to the intrusive fog. Each house looks different, and not just the way they're destroyed; the floor plans are unique, with different finishes and dimensions.

To their left is a general store. It's more intact than most of the houses, but its door is hanging off the hinges and there's a gaping hole in the middle of the wooden stoop. There's a sign on the door, flipped to the "open" side. Van Gogh wonders if some teenager had come by to flip it in their day of mischief or if there's someone in this ghost town to manage the shop.

With all of its lichened and weathered wood, Marshtown looks like a summer camp location. Neither John nor Vincent had spent their summers shipped off into the arms of overenthusiastic counsellors to go swimming and hiking, but they've seen enough cliché coming-of-age movies to know what a good old fashioned American summer camp experience should look like.

"I love it," Van Gogh blurts, eyes fixed out the window.

Kennedy grins. "It's incredible."

Vincent turns away from the limited outside view to look at his best friend's side profile. "I want to live here."

John's smile widens. "Okay."

"No, I mean it."

"I know you do," he meets Vincent's glare. "I do too."

Both boys seem to realise at the same time that Van Gogh is still gripping the taller boy's arm, and he lowers his hand sheepishly without a word.

"Do you think anyone still lives here?"

JFK squints at the houses, looking for cars or intact doors. "No," he concludes.

Van Gogh smiles to himself. "So we've got the whole place to ourselves, huh?"

Kennedy's stomach somersaults and his breath catches in his throat, his jaw suddenly going slack. "It would appear so," he swallows.

Vincent doesn't seem to register the boy's off-kilter tone. "Ooh, you know what?"

"Hm?"

"We should locate the creepiest house and stay in it."

Kennedy chuckles. "Vincent, some of the houses don't even have roofs."

"Perfect for stargazing."

JFK laughs even harder. "We can barely see six feet ahead of us!"

"So we'll pretend. Make up our own constellations."

Kennedy and Van Gogh make eye contact, and the shorter boy's deep brown gaze burrows itself into JFK's soul. He feels it snaking around his heart and making its home in his stomach. His cheeks seem to smile themselves.

"Okay. I'll play along."

Van Gogh leans back in his seat, satisfied. His hands shake, and he can't tell if it's due to nervousness or excitement. They are, after all, the same emotion -- the only difference is how they're interpreted by the subconscious.

"Try that one," he says after a couple minutes, pointing to a two-story Spanish style house finished in yellow stucco. It stands out from all the other developments, and not just because of the material it's made out of. It's almost perfectly intact, complete with a bay window and a second-floor balcony. It has a few imperfections, probably due to lack of maintenance. There are deep cracks carved into the outer walls and the paint on the door is chipping. Some of the upstairs windows have shatters blossoming in them, fanning out across the glass like spiderwebs. Van Gogh knows this is the right place to stay.

Kennedy redirects the car off the road and into the driveway of the house. The lawn is splotchy and has more mud and puddles than grass. The plants that actually grow there are clearly invasive: coarse wheat-like sprouts and greying succulents. The succulents are definitely artificial -- Van Gogh knows nothing of the sort could prosper on marshland.

"Why this one?" Kennedy asks, just for the sake of conversation. He parks the car in the driveway and slides the keys out of the ignition. He unbuckles his seatbelt, but makes no move to exit the car. He sits back in his seat, moving his feet away from the pedals and turning his knees toward Van Gogh. The shorter boy unbuckles his seatbelt and turns his own knees toward the driver, his letterman jacket still zipped snugly up to his neck.

"Because it looks special."

"You can do better than that."

Vincent sighs and looks away from Kennedy, thinking about his answer and choosing words from his lexicon wisely. "It looks like a home and not just a house."

"But you don't know anything about it," JFK challenges, and he wonders if he's crossed the line into the asshole realm.

Van Gogh smiles, thankfully amused by the comment instead of annoyed. "Let me tell you something, John: when you're an artist, you start to look at everything like a piece of art. It kind of sucks sometimes. I can't read books without thinking about the edits I'd give to the author. It ruins the fun a little bit."

JFK reaches out, not quite sure what he's intending to do with his outstretched arm. He lays a palm on Vincent's shoulder awkwardly, guessing he's in too deep to retreat his arm without any contact at all. "But I like the way your artist brain works," he says, and it feels like an admission instead of a conversation volley.

Vincent smiles down at his lap, flattered. When he looks back up at Kennedy, he can see that his best friend's cheeks are pink. "I want to know this house's story," he adds.

Kennedy smiles affectionately, staring down at the boy with soft eyes. "So what are you waiting for?"

Vincent opens his car door, and immediately the thick fog wets his tongue. He opens his mouth, half expecting a snowflake to dance down from the sky and land in his mouth. But while it's dark and gloomy here in Marshtown, it isn't April winter like it is in Exclamation!. For a fraction of a second, he misses the city's name on his mind. He shoves the thought away, hoping it will dissolve on its own.

JFK and Van Gogh walk up the driveway to the house side by side. They climb the three brick steps to the porch in unison, John slowing down for Vincent the way he always does. He sneaks a glance at his best friend, still staring at him with the same cloudy eyes.

"Oh, shit, moment of truth," Van Gogh says, taking the door handle in his hand. He looks back at his best friend, who is standing with his hands shoved into the pockets of his khakis.

"What do we do if it's locked?" Kennedy asks, which he knows is a stupid question.

Vincent shrugs, but there's no disappointment or angst frozen behind his features. "We'll find out." He squeezes down on the handle and the mechanism clicks. He slowly pushes the door open, suddenly worried there will be someone inside.

The first room in the house is the kitchen, a beige tiled floor meeting his shoes as Vincent steps inside. To his pleasant surprise, there's no grime crusted into the tiling, no spider nests burrowed into the corners of the room. Grey, foggy light spills in from the bay window, washing the room a drowsy white. Everything seems to shine, even in the permanent dreariness of Marshtown.

"You were right, Vincent," Kennedy says, and he doesn't need  to see the rest of the house to know it's true.

Vincent turns around to face the boy, a genuine smile sitting lazily across his lips. "Haven't you learned not to doubt me?"

John steps forward and wraps his best friend in a hug, resting his chin on Vincent's head without a second thought. "I'm still learning, Minivan."

Into his chest, Van Gogh mumbles, "I hate it when you call me that."

[naptoons]

Lockdown - Zabdiel De Jesus

Theme: fluff and angst I guess & google translated spanish.

Warnings: cute shit with a little sad shit

A/N: okay this song is literally the cutest and I couldn’t imagine anyone fitting this concept but zabdiel🥺 I hope you guys like the angst / fluff🖤 I love you all.

You’ve always had a crush on Zabdiel, he was always there to help you through whatever you were comfortable with telling him. He knew you sometimes better than yourself. You hated to admit you like him. Because you knew you’d end up like the other girls. Either becoming his weekdays or his one time. You didn’t want to be either. You didn’t want your heart broken again. The pain was unbearable last time, you fell hard for your ex-partner. Now you were crushing big time. Zabdiel walks over to you placing the covers over your body, laying your head on his thighs while his fingers caress your earlobe, basically helping you fall asleep faster.

“You look so tired nena, whats got you up late at night?” His voice soothing you deeper into your slumber, you brain urged you to comment “you” but your fear wouldn’t let that happen.

“Work stuff” you mumble, Zabdiel settling for a soft hum, he just draws circles on your lower back, as your ears drown out the music and laughter.

Twenty minutes later the sound of cursing and shouts dawn upon you. Later followed by Zabdiel’s voice “shut the fuck up, y/n is trying to sleep” smiling you slowly sit up snuggling yourself in the covers. Zabdiel peeks his head in the room sighing at the sight of you being awake. “I apologize for them, supposedly uno is super intense you have to scream and jump on couches” he jokes with you.

“It’s okay, I guess I slept too long anyways” you smile fixing the hoodie you had on. Time couldn’t be more awkward then it was now.

“Is that my hoodie? Wow I was hoping I didn’t lose it” his smile beams, your face turning hues of red from your nose to the tip of your ears.

“Mhm” was all you could answer, Zabdiel flops down next to you, his arms rested on the back of the couch. “So we’re going out tonight, we’re going to club then the beach, so get dress nena” his fingertips caressing your exposed skin burning you up in size. You felt like the angel in you burned the wings off. Hit too close to the candles flame. Nodding your head Zabdiel helps you up from the couch, opening the door for you to walk out. He’s a gentleman. The type any girl would fall for. His energy is contagious. The butterflies were to powerful. You’re surprised they haven’t exposed you. Richard turns his head your direction smiling.

“Sorry we woke you up precioso” he engulfs you in a hug “it’s okay, I was waking up anyways”

“Yeah Zabdiel was about to beat us up for waking you up” Joel comments very humbling

“This man hella overprotective of you, makes me think it’s something more than just a friendship” Christopher sticks his tongue out in a very nsfw gesture Zabdiel walks over to him but Christopher gets up before he can lap around there. Laughing at how they’re playing a game of cat and mouse, I walk upstairs to my room. They all decided to come over, we were watching a movie in that room and you got tired. Opening your closet door you grab the most simple but elegant. A lace bodysuit tucked into black ripped jeans. And a pair of boots.

After your shower you think about what Christopher said, those words made you feel fuzzy inside. Made you question some things and even jumped to conclusions. But you’ve cane to realization, Zabdiel is just a flirty person by nature, even his fans know that. So makes you any different? Settling for to pieces of hair laying down on each side of your ears and a slick back ponytail. Looking through the mirror you see Zabdiel slender body “maldito bebé te ves bien” [Damn baby you look good], Zabdiel stands behind you kissing your temple. Smiling you lean back on his chest playfully. Zabdiel digs his fingers into your waist adorning you from head to toe.

Zabdiel knew he needed to tell you, he felt just a strongly as you do about him, but he knew his reputation might have messed that chance up for him. “Cmon lets go!” Grabbing your hand he pulls you towards the exit, while you grab your phone and wallet in the other hand. The rest of the boys were sitting on the couch debating about something, but got quiet as we entered the room. “Aren’t y’all obviously talking about us” Zabdiel laughs.

“No se de que estas hablando” [ I do not know what you are talking about] Christopher smugly replies, you only understand half of that sentence, more or less three words. Richard gets up walking towards the front door “erick should drive, since he can’t do shit” Richard pokes fun at him, You put on a pout face seeing how they bullied him. You walk over and hug him around his waist, cheek on his chest.

“Don’t worry, at least we don’t need alcohol to have fun” you back him up

“Yep, you’re right about that” he smiles wrapping his arms around your shoulder. Zabdiel stood in the background feeling a little jealousy brewing in him. Turning on his heel he walks out the door, swiping the keys on your table you follow pursuit.

“Someone has to sit on a lap” Erick shutters

“You’re thé driver, you ain’t got nothing to worry about, I call shotgun!” You yell just as you’re about to hop in the front seat Zabdiel pulls you into him. “You’re sitting on my lap” without any hesitation he pulls you on his lap, while the rest sit down in the seats. Erick looks back at you smiling.

“Watch your head Zabdiel is built like a jungle gym” he enlightens the situation

“Start climbing y/n, see what lies at the top” Christopher chimes in, getting a smack to the back of his head from Zabdiel. You have no choice but to laugh. You feel his hand on your waist pulling you in closer. “You comfortable?” You ask looking back at him

“Yeah I’m good you?” He asks

Smiling you reply “yes”

Arriving at the club, you saw a couple of his friends, including the girl he’s friends with benefits with. She looked beautiful nevertheless, she smelled like coco Chanel, mixed with the breeze of coconut. She was never bitter to you. I guess cause you hid your feelings so well she wasn’t aware you had the biggest crush on him. Zabdiel walks over to her engulfing her in a hug, her fingernails rubbing up and down his back. It was painful to watch so you softly shoulder bumped Erick and he did the same. “I’m hungry” you complain to him

“Yeah same let’s go eat” you and Erick start racing to the dinner part of the bar, Zabdiel watched you in the distance. Smiling at your happiness even if it wasn’t with him. “Zabdiel, Cmon lets get some drinks” Isabella grips onto his arms. Zabdiel nods follow her over to the bartenders. After you finished eating Erick wanted to dance at first you declined feeling socially awkward by the crowd, but Erick promised if it was too much you guys could go back to sitting down and play with the darts in the back of the club. Erick and you started dancing the rhythm of the beat. Y’all bodies grinding and sticking to each other, blending in just like everyone else. It wasn’t so bad you thought to yourself.

“See! Was it so bad?!” Erick shouts over the music, giggling you shake your head in rejection. “No! It isn’t!” Zabdiel was on the couch with Isabella watching how you guys were glue to each other’s body. He wanted that with you. Isabella and Zabdiel are both in a jealous rage. Isabella understood that he didn’t love her, he loved you. She wanted to make your heartbreak so you’d stay away from him. Erick has left to go use the bathroom, Isabella took the opportunity to speak to you. Kissing Zabdiel on the cheek she gets up from his lap making her way over to you.

“Hey y/n how are you?” She asks

“I’m fine, hot is all” you reply

“Yeah it is hot in here, listen sweetie I have something to tell you” her hands lifelessly laid upon your arm “Zabdiel isn’t ready for a relationship, he’s told me that he only sees you as a friend, he couldn’t cross that brother-sister boundary, you know he’s the flirty type don’t take it personal” if you could throw up flowers like a Hanahaki disease. This would be the moment. All this scenarios they played in your head turned from maybes to imaginations.

“Oh, well thanks for tell me I guess” upon hearing your somber tone on the inside she was quiet glad now you would turn away from her “man”

“I’m sorry baby, I know you liked him a lot, but he isn’t worth giving your heart too, he’ll just break it” Isabella pats your back walking back over to Zabdiel” your ears becoming numb to the blaring sound of the music. You watch her sit down on Zabdiel’s lap his hands wrapped around her waist. Smiling as they have a conversation. You told yourself not to fall hard for him. Just in case something like this were to happen. Erick comes out smiling, but that smile soon fades upon seeing the way your lower lip poked out in despair.

“Hey y/n are you okay?” He asks caressing his thumb on your forearm

“Erick.. May I be alone for fifteen minutes? I’ll be at the beach okay?” you force a smile, his eyes downgrading in shades of concern.

“Sure, I’ll come get you in fifteen minutes” Erick smiles, he kisses your temple watching you walkout the door before he turns around heading straight towards Zabdiel.

Zabdiel stops laughing once he sees the look upon Erick face, he knows somethings wrong. “Que Paso ?” [what happened]

“Something happened with y/n, she looked hurt, like she heard something and was disappointed by it” Zabdiel pushes Isabella off of him. She tries to grab his hand but he swings it away.

“What did you say to her?” Zabdiel growls, usually it would cause a bundle of joy in the pit of her stomach, but this sounded like a raging monster.

“Papi I didn’t say anything, maybe she was just thinking about something” she lies, Richard smugly drinks from his cup

“pequeña eres una gran mentirosa” [ little girl you are a big liar” Zabdiel turns in his direction “bro she went and told y/n you’re not in love with her, and that you aren’t ready for love, she also said you’d just hurt her” Zabdiel’s fists balles up wanting to punch a wall or a table but calms down ready to tell her off “when I come back home, I want your shit gone, I’m changing my number as well, get the fuck outta my face” Zabdiel looks back at Erick asking where you’ve gone too.

You were sitting close by the shore not to close to be swept away but close enough the waves crashed against your toes. Wiping the tears from your eyes that blended in well with the salt water in front of you. Why did you have to get your hopes up? You thought to yourself. Hearing the sound of feet against the sand you sniffed and dried your eyes. “It hasn’t been fifteen minutes yet Erick but I’m coming” you get up from your position as you turn around you realize it’s not Erick. But the boy you’ve fallen in love with.

“Oh hey Zabdiel” you couldn’t talk to him right now, you didn’t know how you could talk to him. Things would be awkward. It already was awkward but you always played it off by flirting back. Now you couldn’t do that. Trying to walk past him he grabs your wrist making you stand in front of him, as he towers over you. “What don’t you wanna go back inside? Your girlfriend is probably worried”

Zabdiel rolls his eyes “you know damn well she isn’t my girlfriend”

“Well Isabella is waiting”

“Can’t you see I don’t give a fuck about her? Y/n I’m here cause Erick told me you were out here”

“Your point?” You didn’t mean to be cold,but you wanna let him get close, your heart is already broken. Twice could make you run away from him.

“For fuck sakes y/n I like you” Zabdiel bluntly comments.

Shaking your head you feel the tears roll down “no you don’t Zabdiel, I don’t wanna be just another girl to you, I want more then that I deserve more than that, I don’t want to feel my heart break no more” your voice floating in the window “cause the minute that we touch lockdown, Zabdiel because I am in love with you, I might never want to let you go”

Sniffling you drop your arm still in his grasp “just tell me please, you got someone else, so I can make easy to not go there” you let out one last comment.

“ I can’t lie to you. I don’t have anyone else and I’m not in love with Isabella, it’s always been you, you idiot” not giving you anytime to respond, the sun and the moon met, as his warmth cascade over you, his fingers placed gently on both sides of your cheek, holding the both of y’all together like glue, the waves crashing against the both of your feet’s. A gust of wind flowing in between you two. It was something and more you’ve always dreamt of. Pulling away from your space, a string of saliva becomes a divider between you two. His eyes swimming in love, but also in beauty because of you. “Y/n i meant what I said, I’m deeply and utterly in love with you, fuck more then I should be, it scares the hell out of me, but feeling that jealousy tension today I know that this feels right”

“You were jealous?” You ask curiously

“That’s all you heard?” Zabdiel laughs “yeah, I got very jealous today, what Christopher said is true, I’m very overprotective of you”

“I love you too” honey voice came from your lips, instantly melting Zabdiel, his smile so milky and delicate. Leaning in he crashes his lips upon yours with only one hand on your jawline.

Erick has to drive us home, everyone was drunk besides him and I. Zabdiel was tipsy he could’ve drive but he wanted you to sit on his lap again. Getting out the car the cold wind hit my body. We said out a little longer, playing with the water, kissing, watching the moonlight against the water. It was something that only happened in movies. “Here” Zabdiel wraps you up in his jacket, smiling up at him he kisses your forehead. Something that always gave you butterflies. Even with him bring your boyfriend now. Erick Opens the front door for us, while everyone followed pursuit.

“Finally you told her z! Told you she felt the same” Christopher slurs his words, You giggle in how shy he is by that comment but he just picks you up taking you to his room. Closing the door behind him you scope out the room. He’s done some remodeling there were things you never seen before in his room.

“I added something you’ll love” he speaks

“Hm, what is it?” You reply

“Change into my hoodie and you’ll find out”

“I’ll do that if you take a warm shower with me” innocently you plead

“Oh, already?” Zabdiel jokes with you.

After the shower you and Zabdiel were cuddled up in his bed “so where’s the surprise?” you ask he reaches over on his nightstand grabbing what looked like a remote. He clicked it and stars appeared on the celling. Looking just like the skies you saw at the beach. Astonished by the view your eyes turn into a galaxy. And he loved it.

“How is that for a surprise?” He mumbles against your skin “so now when you come over, we can do just this” he wraps his arm around your shoulder pulling you into his chest.

“What more would you do for me?” You smile

“Whatever you want me to do, you have me on lockdown”

[crimefightingspiderguy]

a new recruit

Part I to the series, i want you to want me. 

Summary: Peter, May and (Y/N) get an unexpected surprise. 

Warnings: I guess swearing? Maybe spoilers for Captain America: Civil War, but like who hasn’t seen that bad boy lol? 

Pairings: Peter Parker x best friend!reader 

Word count: 2,491

A/N: This is my first series for Peter Parker so come along on this new adventure with me lol. I’m going to be doing something similar to my best friend to the throne series, but with the Spider-Man universe, and throwing some fun surprises in it hopefully. 

“So, I was thinking, for the Spanish project we could make a cultural food to do a sort of “bring the culture to life” aspect. Plus if the rest of our project totally bombs, maybe we can win the teacher over with sweet desserts, I heard he has a bit of a sweet tooth.” You sent a grin over to Peter, who reciprocated. 

“Sounds like a plan to me, but you might have to help me bake because I don’t think May would care for me burning our kitchen down again.” He chuckled, and as you were about to say a clever roast, something caught your eye. You and Peter had been walking back to his apartment so he could ask May permission to stay the weekend at your place and get some clothes if he could. You stop in your tracks, a confused look on your face. Peter turns and looks at you concerned.

“Who’s car is that?” You sped up to get closer and look at the fanciest car you’d ever seen in person. “Holy shit… I think this is Tony Starks!” You grin at it, reading the STARK license plate.

“What? No! What would Tony Stark be doing in Queens, and in my apartment building for that matter?” Peter came to stand next to you to see the plate, and his jaw dropped a little.

“Let’s go in and see if we bump into him!” You push him excitedly, “What if we got to meet THE Iron Man! How cool!”

You were practically bouncing on your toes as you waited in the elevator, you had no luck seeing him on the ground floor, but maybe there was still a chance. You and Peter got off when the doors opened, and to your dismay, Tony was nowhere to be seen. 

“(Y/N), I really don’t think Tony Stark would just be wandering around our apartment building. It might just be a super fan or something, or maybe he’s taking a stroll” Peter gave you a teasing look, and you punched his arm.

“Fine but if we see the news later saying that Tony Stark was going around giving out wads of cash to random civilians, you’ll be biting your tongue.” You joke, realizing that Peter’s probably right and there’s no real reason for the Tony Stark to be in Queens, especially in this building. Peter smirked at you as he unlocked his front door and walked in, heading towards the kitchen table to set his stuff down.

“Hey, Aunt May! There’s this crazy car parked out front!” Peter said, back turned as he set his backpack down.

“Peter…” You stare at THE Tony Stark sitting on Peter’s couch across from May, you smack his arm repeatedly until he finally turns around to see what you want.

“Gosh (Y/N), what’s…” Peter saw him and paused.

“Oh, Mr. Parker,” Tony said, smirking as if he had an inside joke going with everyone else in the room. 

 “Hey! What’re you… Um... I’m-I’m Peter. This is (Y/N).” Peter said, pointing at you, who still had your hand on his shoulder, not really being able to move. You softly smiled and brought yourself together, and slightly and awkwardly waved at him.

“Tony.” He pointed at himself. 

“Wh-What are you doing here?” Peter stumbled to ask.

“It’s about time we met,” Tony said like it was obvious why he was casually sitting with May and eating cookies. “You’ve been getting my emails right?” 

May gave Peter a shocked and confused look, a look that says why didn’t you tell me. Tony gave Peter a look that said, play along man. You didn’t fail to notice either, and suddenly all eyes were on Peter as you looked at him suspiciously. Surely Peter, your best friend of 15 years would have mentioned to you if he had been emailing THE Tony Stark. Wouldn’t he?

“Yeah, yeah. Right. Regarding the…”

“You didn’t even tell me about the grant.” May jumped in.

“Yeah about the grant.” Peter played along but was clearly just as lost as you were. 

“The September Foundation” Tony jumped in. You racked your brain, trying to remember if Peter ever mentioned anything about a grant, but nothing came up. “Remember when you applied.”

“Yeah…” You could read Peter like an open book, and you knew as soon as he put his hands in his front pockets and leaned on his tip-toes, that he was lying. 

“Well, I approved. So now, we’re in business.” Tony shot him yet another look that told him to play along, as May got excited. 

“But you didn’t tell me anything? What’s up with that?” She questioned Peter.

“Yeah Peter, what’s with the secrets?” You asked, and he looked between you and May, at a loss for words.

“Well, I just… I wasn’t sure if I’d get it. Thought I’d keep it a surprise if I did.” Peter pulled out of know where and shot you a look that told you he honestly had no idea what was going on either. “Anyway, what did I apply for?” 

“That’s what I’m here to hash out,” Tony said, finally explaining why he was here. “It’s so hard for me to believe that she’s somebody’s aunt,” Tony said, making aunt May blush.

“Yeah, well we come in all shapes and sizes, ya know.” You snorted at this, but quickly tried to cover it as a sneeze, Peter shot you a grin. 

“These walnut date cookies are exceptional,” Tony said, going back to flattering May. 

“Let me just stop you there.” Peter joined back in. “Does this grant got like money involved or whatever? No?” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty well funded,” Tony said. 

“Wow”.

“Well, look who you’re talking to,” Tony smirked, and you could see the excitement on Peter’s face. Even if Tony had the wrong kid, you knew Peter wouldn’t pass up the chance to get a grant for school, or even to work under a genius like Tony. “Can I get five minutes with him?” Tony asks May. 

“Sure.” She smiles at him. Tony gets up and has Peter show him to his room.

“This is so crazy!” You whisper yell to May as soon as you hear the lock turn to Peter’s room. 

“I know! I really hope everything works out for him. A grant from Mr. Stark would probably be enough to set him up for college.” She grinned at you then at the door where she just saw Tony with Peter. 

“It’s kind of weird that he didn’t tell either of us though, right?” You have known May your entire life. Honestly, you hadn’t had any siblings so when Peter moved in with May and Ben, and you remained close with him, she became more of an older sister to you. Peter’s parents had died when he was young, but May had been around enough that she had met you at some birthday parties and play dates, and she made it a priority to keep you and Peter together so he had some constant in his life in a time of chaos and change. You had grown up with Peter and had May to thank for that. Your parents had been close with Peter’s and when they died, May reached out to your parents and made sure they exchanged information at the funeral, agreeing Peter needed someone to make him feel normal in such a strange time. That was you, and the two of you had been inseparable since. You shared everything with each other. You were each other’s rocks and were together through thick and thin. When your mom had died you were about 10, it happened a couple years before uncle Ben had died, so he had helped your father through the transition. Peter helped you, and aunt May took you under your wing, helping you grow in ways that you need a mother for. She helped you with your first period, with puberty, she took you bra shopping, she helped you with all the things you felt too awkward to bring to your dad who had been left just as clueless as you.

“I would’ve at least have expected you to know. He tells you everything.” May said, holding up the cookie plate to you offering you one. You took one and bit it, immediately spitting it into your hand. 

“No offense May, but… this is raw.” You chuckled as May realized that Tony was being polite as she broke a cookie in half, as it crumbled to pieces. She shook her head and smirked at you, placing the cookies in the trash bin. 

“So how was school?” She asked you as she washed off the plate and put it on their dish drying rack. 

“It was okay. Got a B+ on my chemistry quiz, not my best work, but that damn kid in front of me wouldn’t stop clicking his pen.” You shook your head angrily thinking of that day. “Oh, sorry that I didn’t ask before coming over, by the way. Peter and I have a Spanish project together and he was supposed to be asking you permission to stay the weekend at mine.” 

“(Y/N), you know you don’t have to ask to come over, and Peter doesn’t need my approval to go over to your house. I trust you guys not to get yourselves killed.” She chuckled, drying her hands on a towel, and leaning back on the stove.

“See that’s just foolish on your part.” You pointed at her accusingly. She threw the towel at you, and as it hit you in the head you acted like it was a rock or something, holding where it hit and groaning. You fell to the ground “I’ve been hit!!” You gasp dramatically. 

“Oh get up solider, it was a flesh wound at most.” May shook her head chuckling at you. 

Tony walks out then and nods at May, “It was a pleasure.” He turns back to face Peter in the doorway and points at him, “I’ll be in touch.” He heads towards the door, stopping when he sees you lying on the ground. “(Y/N).” He nods his head, with a confused look. You quickly scramble up and smile at him. When he shuts the door behind him, you and May turn to look at Peter expectantly. 

“(Y/N), can you come here.” 

“Oh come on Peter, you can tell us both…” You point between you and May.

“Now.” Peter’s voice was solid. Unwavering. More intense than you’d ever heard it. You look between him and May but don’t question him, because clearly, something is wrong.

Peter quickly shuts and locks the door behind you as you scramble into his room. You sit on his bed, waiting for him to tell you what’s going on. He paces back and forth, tossing stuff into a duffle bag quickly.

“If you’re worried about aunt May letting you stay the weekend at mine, she already said she doesn’t care.” 

“Good, because I’m not going to your house, but I need her to believe I am.” This caught you off guard.

“What do you mean you’re not coming over? We have our project to work on.” 

“I’m going with Mr. Stark somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I can’t tell you. But I need you to trust me and lie to Aunt May.” You got up and grabbed Peter by his shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. 

“No. You tell me what’s going on right now Peter Parker, or I won’t tell May shit.” 

“I can’t, it’s too dangerous.” Peter pushed past you and kept grabbing clothes and shoes. 

“Bullshit.” Peter stopped, straightened up, and looked at you seriously.

“Please (Y/N), don’t make me tell you.” 

“If it’s too dangerous for me to even know, then it’s definitely too dangerous for you to go and do.” 

“Just, trust me, please.” 

“Peter, I couldn’t trust you more, but the thing is, in order for me to trust you I have to know what the hell is going on.” 

“I’m Spider-Man.” You laugh, maybe a little too loud.

“This is serious Peter. Are you in trouble or something?” 

“I’m being serious. I’m Spider-Man” He pulled his suit out and showed you. “I’m going with Mr. Stark to Germany to stop Captain America from breaking some law.” 

“You’re going to Germany!?” You whisper shout. “To fight THE Captain America?!” 

“And I’m Spider-Man.” Peter nodded, amused at your reaction being greater to everything besides him being a superhero. 

“Yeah, that too!” You chuckle. “I knew you were being weird recently. Ditching our weekly movie nights more than you ever have in our entire lives.” 

“I can catch you up on everything when I get back, but Mr. Stark is waiting for me right now in his car. So will you help me?” You mull it over. 

“Yes,” you nod hesitantly, “but I want you texting me updates every chance you get! I don’t wanna tell May we’re fine baking Spanish treats and two days later your shipped home in a coffin from Germany.” Peter gulps at the thought. You pull him in for the tightest hug you think you’ve ever given him. “Please be safe. I can’t lose you.” You whisper into his shoulder. 

“I’ll be back before you can even say, “what an idiot that Peter Parker” in Spanish.” He chuckled and rubbed your back.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes at him, “Well if that’s what we’re basing our time frame on, take your time. I won’t be getting that phrase down for at least a month.” You leaned in and did something you’ve never done before, kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, and go for the legs on Cap, his shield doesn’t cover that region.” Peter held his cheek and smiled,

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Hey May, we really gotta get going on that Spanish project,” Peter says as he leaves his room and heads over to her to kiss her cheek goodbye. “I’ll tell you all about everything Tony said when we finalize the details when his people email me this weekend. He didn’t tell me much other than that.” She nodded her head, looking a little flustered at how quickly he was heading towards the door. You knew it would be suspicious if you didn’t say goodbye, so before you left with Peter you gave May a quick hug and then caught up with Peter. 

“Okay, so I just go home and work on the project as normal, then I’ll send you some pictures to send to May so it looks believable that you’re there. Remember, update me every minute you’re not kicking ass.” 

“I will. I owe you big!” Peter said as he got into Tony’s car and drove off.

“Yeah, you do.” You smiled and shook your head, heading towards the train station. 

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged throughout the series. I hope you enjoyed!

Find more of my work here. 

My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

[justheretobreakthings]

Welcome to the Family - Chapter 8

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 3,089 (Total Word Count: 20,507) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

It was a tough adjustment, going back to school for the first time in over a year. Kolivan had warned him about that after he had first been released, that it may be difficult for him to be back in a regular school setting, but there wasn’t exactly much to be done about it. There wasn’t very well any way to practice being back at school in the two weeks between his release and the start of the new school year, so the best Kolivan could do was recommend that he go to the school counselor if he had any trouble.

Which Keith was in no hurry to do. Back at the detention facility, they’d mandated he see a counselor too. Everyone had to, and as far as Keith could tell, it hadn’t done any good for any of the kids there. The counselor he’d seen had been constantly dismissive, writing off any trouble he was having with the other juveniles as him simply losing his temper, and telling Keith that he was exaggerating the problems in his past due to his ‘negative life outlook’ and needed to simply look on the positive side of things more.

Of course, that counselor also didn’t use the title of ‘doctor’, and had yelled at Keith when the latter had first asked about his credentials, so maybe he wasn’t exactly the best example of a counselor. But it left Keith on his guard.

If you assume out the gate that all counselors were underqualified and disparaging, you won’t be disappointed when it turns out to be the case. A lesson he had learned long ago and applied to caseworkers, and classmates, and homes. They weren’t all bad, but the ones that were…

It was a tough adjustment.

Still, as patronizing as that counselor’s advice had been, he tried his best to focus on the positives, listing them in his head throughout the day as he came up with them.

He had his own locker. That was nice. Privacy was always hard to come by, whether he was with a foster family or a group home or back in juvie, so every little bit was a relief.

The teachers actually seemed to give a shit about their subjects, which had not been at all the case for him last year. He was pretty sure that the tutors’ credentials had been even less valid than the counselor’s, and none of the other boys at the center had actually cared about learning anyway - or if they did, they had the sense to keep it to themselves - so the tutors were pretty quick to give up anyway. So that was a nice change.

The place as a whole seemed generally well-kept. No obvious damage like broken windows or exposed wires, and they had those modern drinking fountains with the bottle-filling stations built in. When Keith went to the bathroom after lunch, there was some graffiti in the stall, but it was just the ‘Here I sit brokenhearted’ poem in Sharpie. Pretty innocuous.

And he’d had a place to sit at lunch, which was a major step up from some past foster homes where he’d either been the only kid, or the other kids in the house wanted nothing to do with him. Of course, there had still been some weirdness there. While Hunk had seemed nice and Pidge’s sarcasm hadn’t seemed malicious and Lance did seem concerned about whether or not he ate, it was hard to say how genuine it was or how long it would last. After all, he’d messed up. He’d accidentally insulted Tania, and it had upset Lance, and he hadn’t missed how much all three of the others had stared at him throughout the meal, even if they tried to hide it.

He didn’t like being stared at. He didn’t like it when people were curious, when they tried to dig into him and his life.

Being back in a crowded school made that harder to avoid, which was one of the negatives that he tried not to focus on but couldn’t help but let intrude his mind whenever he got the inkling that there were eyes on him. Which, admittedly, happened a hell of a lot, more than was probably realistic.

The counselor had called him paranoid, but he was sometimes right, and if he was sometimes right, then it wasn’t paranoia, it was just caution. There was nothing wrong with caution. Sure, maybe the times he caught people staring in his direction, they weren’t actually looking at him, and maybe when people whispered nearby or muffled a laugh as they passed him, they weren’t discussing him. But maybe they were. And Keith never knew how to handle that.

It’s not as though there wasn’t plenty of reason for him to be stared at or gossiped about. He reeked of not belonging, and he knew it. He was very obviously the ‘new guy’, not knowing any names or where anything was and three times so far he’d had to ask for directions, a task that had no business being as anxiety-inducing as it was. He’d had Algebra 1 for fourth period, and he was pretty sure he was the only sophomore in a class otherwise full of freshman, which he knew was going to be the case in Spanish 1 tomorrow as well, and no doubt his classmates would have questions about that. And, of course, there was his scar. He supposed he couldn’t blame people for staring at that, but that didn’t mean he had to like it or stop glowering at other students when he caught them at it.

Point was, though, he made it. He made it through the day without any big problems. No one was outright antagonistic to him, nothing the teachers assigned seemed beyond his ability. Sure, there were still a hundred and seventy-nine days left in the school year to ruin that, but at least he was starting off on the right foot. Or, a neutral foot. Whatever.

His last class of the day was P.E., and he was one of the first in the class to leave the locker room at the end of class. Since it was the final period, some of the boys opted not to shower afterward, which was a relief to Keith, as it made the fact that he wasn’t doing so stand out less. You only needed to get your clothes stolen from the gym locker one time in middle school before you took steps to ensure that it never happened again, so he had no problem waiting until he got back to the McClains’ house to clean up.

He had ducked into a bathroom stall to change out of his gym uniform - he would have to ask Lance what the weird cartoon clipart of a knight on the tee shirt was all about - and fortunately it didn’t seem like anyone had paid him enough attention to notice and given him any shit about his excessive modesty, so he was able to slip out of the locker room a minute before the final bell, an extra minute that he definitely needed to find his way back to the sophomore lockers.

After he gathered his things, he headed out to the parking lot to wait next to Rachel’s car, although it was at least another twenty minutes more before he spotted her and Lance leaving the school building. He lifted a hand to wave at them from where he sat perched on the car’s hood, but slowly lowered it again as he noticed the annoyed look on Lance’s face.

“That’s where he was,” Lance said loudly once they were in earshot. “Damn it, we were looking all over for you.”

“What?” said Keith. “Why?”

“Because you weren’t at the entrance,” said Lance. “We waited for you. Rachel was starting to worry you ditched school or something. How come you didn’t meet us there?”

“I… didn’t know I was supposed to?” Keith said, raising a brow. “What entrance?”

“The music wing entrance,” Rachel said. She reached the front door and pulled it open, hitting the button on the inside to unlock the rest of the car. “We always meet there at the end of the day. Didn’t Lance tell you that?”

“No.”

“Hey, what?” Lance said as he slid into his own seat. “Why was that my job? You’re the driver, you were supposed to coordinate everything!”

“...Oh.” Rachel frowned. “Okay, fair, guess this one’s on me. Sorry, Keith.”

“S’okay,” Keith mumbled. He clambered into the passenger seat as Rachel turned the ignition, and leaned in toward the fan as the air-conditioning kicked on.

“From now on, we don’t count on Rachel for anything,” said Lance.

“Fine,” Rachel said. “Good luck getting home from school without me.”

“From now on, we count on Rachel for only one thing.”

“There we go.” Rachel nodded. “Anyway, right, from now on, just meet at the music wing, okay? The front entrance has a sign pointing to the auditorium, so if you go there, it’s just down the hall on the right, and you’re there.”

“Got it,” Keith said.

“We woulda texted you,” said Lance, “But you didn’t give us your number.”

“I don’t have a phone,” said Keith.

“What? Why not?”

Keith turned around to scowl at Lance, and the latter was quick to deflate. “Oh, sorry, was that offensive? Somehow?”

“I just don’t have one,” Keith snapped.

“Talk to Mamá about that,” said Rachel. “I just upgraded a few months ago, she’ll probably let you have my old one, and Luis is off the family plan now so we can add another number.”

“All right,” Keith said. “Um, thanks?”

“Don’t mention it. Not like I’m using it anyw- Lance, don’t you dare take your shoes off in my car!”

Lance looked up, his feet already up on the seat next to him and one shoe off, holding the laces of the other. “Oh, come on, it’s a thousand degrees outside, my feet are hot!”

“No, you are not stinking up my car with your weird foot odors. Wait ‘til we get home.”

“First of all, your car stinks anyway, and second of all, my feet are beautiful and your car should be honored to smell like them.”

“If your feet are so great you wouldn’t need to spend an hour every day rubbing all those creams and oils and stuff on them.”

“Um, it’s called self-care.”

Deciding that the sibling bickering was probably going to go on for the rest of the ride home, Keith leaned toward the dashboard and adjusted the fans to blow directly into his face, closing his eyes and letting the sound of the blowing air conditioning drown out everything else. At first he was a little worried that the fans might spread the smell of the sweat left over from gym class throughout the car, but neither Lance nor Rachel made any comment about it - the smell of Lance’s feet was the only one they seemed focused on - so he was able to relax up until they pulled up to the McClains’ house, coming to a forceful and crooked stop on the curb.

The other two tossed their backpacks onto a chair in their den and shouted greetings to their mother as they entered the house, while Keith kept quiet and kept his bag with him until he’d gotten upstairs and dropped it into his desk chair. Lance had first dibs on the bathroom, so Keith waited on his bed for his turn to grab a shower. When that turn finally came, he turned the water up to near scalding and took a few minutes to just stand and soak. It hadn’t been a bad day, nothing big had happened, but he was still exhausted. Being around so many people for eight hours straight had drained him.

It took a long while and a mental reminder that the others in the house would probably be pissed if he went and used up the hot water for him to finally pick up his bottle - a single, all-in-one shampoo-conditioner-body wash that he’d picked out from the store and that was conspicuously dull among the dozen bottles of brightly colored and sweetly scented who-knows-what that Lance had arranged on the rim of the tub for himself - and start washing up. Once finished, he towel dried thoroughly and got fully dressed again before finally stepping out of the bathroom, letting the steam waft into the hallway behind him.

By this point he was starting to get hungry, the awkward school lunch long behind him, so he started down the stairs, hoping to find something in the kitchen to sneak back up with him before dinner. The den was empty, and the muted sound of Rachel’s trumpet indicated she was practicing in the basement, so the coast seemed clear until he reached the bottom of the stairs and caught the voices of Lance and Tania in the kitchen. Keith hesitated, hand on the banister, deciding to wait it out.

“It’ll just be the morning meeting tomorrow for this week,” Lance was saying. “But starting on Monday we’re back to three morning practices a week, and I think we’ll start on the afternoon practices again in October, so you’re gonna need to tell Rachel she has to drive me.”

“Lance, we can’t base Rachel’s whole sleep schedule on your swim practices,” Tania replied. “I’ll drive you when I can, and we really need to arrange a carpool for you this year. Your friend Nadia doesn’t live too far from here, right?”

“Yeah, but her dad listens to country music in the car. It’s torture.”

“Too bad, mijo, it’s either find a carpool or skip some practices.”

“Fine. I’ll ask her. Oh, and I still need the money for the new trunks this year. My old ones are getting tight as hell.”

“Language.”

“Sorry, tight as heck. Anyway, I need a check for them.”

“All right.” Keith heard the sound of a drawer opening and papers rifling.

“And for a team jacket,” Lance added.

“Ah, ah, no,” said Tania, “I told you already, you want one of those jackets, you pay for it yourself.”

“But Mamá, it’s school spirit!”

“It’s fifty-dollar school spirit and I’m not paying for it. You want extra money, you do some extra help on the farm or you wait ‘til Christmas. For now, how much for the trunks?”

“Twenty.” There was quiet in the kitchen for a few seconds, then the sound of tearing paper. “Thanks,” said Lance.

“Don’t you lose that check, now,” said Tania. “Put it in your backpack before you forget.”

“I will.” A cabinet opened and a couple of dishes clattered against the countertop before Lance cleared his throat. “Hey, uh,” he said. “Speaking of checks, uh…”

“Mm?” Tania hummed.

“Something kinda weird happened at lunch today.”

Keith tensed, his grip tightening against the staircase’s banister.

“How do you mean?”

“With Keith. He tried to skip lunch, said he was saving for when he ‘needed’ it.”

“What does that - ?”

���Well, apparently he thought that the check you gave him for lunch was supposed to cover the whole school year. He was trying to ration it out.”

There was a pause before Tania softly muttered, “Oh querido…”

“Did he, like, act weird at all when you wrote out the check? Or did you say something that he thought meant - ”

“No, no, I think it was just - ” Her sigh was nearly drowned out by a cutlery drawer opening and closing. “Don’t worry over it, cariño, I’ll talk to him.”

“Yeah, but what are you gonna say? Do you know what that was about?”

“Never you mind, Lance, I’ll take care of it.”

“But why did he think - ?”

Finally, Keith had heard enough, and he stepped out into the dining room, ensuring that his footfall was loud enough to get their attention. It worked, as both Tania and Lance looked up at his entrance. Lance quickly looked away again, face sheepish, but Tania plastered a smile onto her face and gestured for him to come into the kitchen. “Keith, dear, good to see you!” she said brightly. “How was your first day?”

“Fine,” Keith said.

“The school seem like it could be a good fit for you? Do we need to make any changes to your classes at all?”

“They’re fine.”

“You’re okay with having Rachel drive you? Her driving didn’t scare you too badly?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“How are your classmates? Met any nice people? Make any new friends?”

“I - I just came in to get a snack…”

“Oh! Right, right.” Tania ran a flustered hand through her hair and turned back to the counter. “Well, I’m actually going to start making dinner here, so if you don’t mind waiting a little longer, there’ll be plenty to eat soon.”

“Oh,” said Keith. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry!” Tania said. “It’s fine, it’s perfectly fine. Would you like to help with dinner, sweetie? I could use a hand peeling potatoes if you’re up for it. Have you used a potato peeler before, Keith?”

“Um, yeah. Sure, I can - I can help,” Keith said.

He shuffled toward the counter. Lance leaned in to whisper something to Tania that he didn’t catch, and she shook her head and waved him away in response. Lance pouted as he stepped away. “Well, uh, I’ll get outta your way, then,” he said.

“You sure you don’t wanna help too, mijo?” said Tania.

“I’m on dish duty tonight, Mamá, you can’t make me do double chores. I’ll strike.”

Tania picked up a dish towel and lightly swatted Lance on the shoulder with it. “If you’re not gonna work in the kitchen, you can’t stand around in the kitchen. Get.”

“All right, all right,” Lance said, turning and walking out toward the dining room. Before he left fully, he glanced over his shoulder toward Tania and said, “¿Me lo dirán luego?”

“No, Lance,” Tania snapped. Lance muttered something under his breath and left as Tania slid a bag of potatoes across the counter and handed Keith a peeler. “We should only need around eight,” she said. “I’ll start on the chicken, and you just let me know if you need anything, okay dear?”

“Okay,” Keith said with a nod. She turned her attention away, and Keith glanced hesitantly back toward the sound of Lance’s retreating footsteps before he shook his head clear, rolled his shoulders, and got to work.

[ryvswb]

@proximio-5 Asked: What happened to team JNPR?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Bloodgulch guitar jingle plays as the camera pans trough the corridors of Atlas academy, stopping at the Ace Ops bored and idling around in they're communal room*

Harriet, arms crossed, leaning against a wall: Marrow?

Marrow, standing next to her: Yes Harriet?

Harriet: Why are we here?

Marrow, pensively: ...I don't know Harriet...why are we here? I guess its one of life's greatest mystery huh?

Harriet: No you dumbass! I mean't why are we here twidling our tumbs while the general as a meeting with these weird color coded soldiers??? We were under attack by grimm only a few hours ago and now they're all just GONE!

Vine, playing cards with Elm: I heard the general say something about some kind of space time anomaly, I tried asking but he said it was classified.

Elm, putting a card on the table: Hey speaking of things disappearing, what happened to those Beacon brats? Last I remember they kicked our lights out but now they're nowhere to be foun-AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Nora, busting trough one of the walls with her hammer knocking every Ace Ops on the ground, absolutely enraged and sparkling with pink electricity: WHERE IS IRONWOOD!?

Pyrrha, entering the room through the hole Nora made, Ren and Jaune at her side, cringing at the damage Nora caused: WE'RE SORRYYYYY!

Jaune, gesturing at the Ace Ops, whom are dazed and scattered around the room: Pyrrha? I'd like to introduce to the Ace Ops. Ace Ops? This here is- actually you know what?

Jaune, pulling a middle finger at them: Go fuck yourselves you should be honored to even be graced with Pyrrha's presence.

Pyrrha: Jaune...aren't you being a little mean to them?

Jaune, putting a reasuring hand on Pyrrha's shoulder: Ok. Ok. Hear me out. I know the Ace Ops LOOK nice, but they're what we call class traitors. Also they're asslickers...except Marrow. Marrow's cool.

Jaune, happily waving at Marrow, all the while Nora violently rampages through the room: Hi dude whats up! This is my gf Pyrrha! She's uhhh, supposed to be dead but we don't really have time to unpack all that and I was wonderi-

Marrow, weakly raising his hand in a tumbs up from under a small pile of rubble as Jaune continues to ramble in the background: H...hello...miss Nikos....pleasure.....to meet you....big fan...

Pyrrha, giving Marrow a polite knod, as Nora slams Harriet through the ceiling with a pool table: O-oh! I didn't know I had fans in the military! The honor is all mine sir!

Ren: Ummmm shouldn't we reign Nora back before she actually kills someone?

Nora, slapping the shit out of Elm: WHERE.

*SLAP*

IS.

*SLAP*

IRON.

*SLAP*

WOOD!?

*YEETS ELM THROUGH A WALL*

Vine, visibly sweating in fear despite keeping a straight face: If you have business with the general...then you can find him in his office but-

Nora, walking up to Vine, stopping mere inches away from his face, narrowing her eyes: In his office huh? You better not be lying to me twig boy.

Nora, busting down the wall right next to Vine and walking through it, the rest of JNPR awkwardly following her one by one: COME ON TEAM! IRONTWAT'S LEGS AREN'T GONNA BREAK THEMSELVES!

Marrow, rising from the rubble snd dusting himself: You ummm, you ok Vine? You're looking kinda pale there buddy.

Vine: I am physically unscathed, but I am, however, screaming on the inside...

Clover, running in and stopping his momentum with the doorframe, panting heavily: GUYS PREPARE FOR COMBAT NORA VALKYRIE IS-

Clover, as Harriet comes crashing back down trough the ceiling, awkwardly taking in the state of the room:.....after the general....

Marrow, casually: Yeah its a little too late to tell us that boss.

Clover, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe while massaging his temples: *sigh* You know what? Fuck this.

Clover, putting on a fishing hat he pulled out of his pocket and unfolding Kingfisher: Ya'll can have the day off. I'm gonna go fishing.

Clover, his voice echoing through the hall as he walks away: Tell the general it was nice knowing him!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carolina, in Ironwood's office with Sarge, Lopez and Church at her sides: And thats pretty much all we know about the anomaly that fused our two worlds sir. We're just as in the dark as you are.

Ironwood, Winter and Penny behind him: This is indeed concerning...but at the very least it stopped Salem's invasion.

Sarge: Yes yes immortal demon witch queen blah blah blah. Can we go back to the real reason we came here?

Carolina, exasperated: Oh goddammit.

Church, as Ironwood and Winter look at them in confusion: Sarge for fuck sake we aren't-

Sarge, interupting Church and taking a step forward: Good sir. Aren't you tired of being blue? Don't you just want to unleash your inner RED!?

Ironwood, exchanging a confused glance with Winter: Ummm, I don't think I understan-

Sarge, slamming his fist on Ironwood's desk then pointing at his tie: OF COURSE YOU DO! Look at your tie! Its RED! But confined and drowned out by all this BLUE! Your subconscious is giving your inner struggles physical form THROUGH YOUR CLOTHES!

Carolina, in a scolding tone: Sarge. We've been over this.

Sarge: WHICH IS WHY YOU SHOULD JOIN THE RED ARMY AND UNLEASH THE RED WITHIN YOURSELF!

Church: He's already the leader of his own faction you dumb old fuck! HE'S NOT GOING TO JOIN YOUR SHITTY ARMY.

Penny, tilting her head in confusion: "Unleash your inner red"?Aren't meat people supposed to keep the red inside their body?

Lopez, in spanish: Please ignore him Penny, nothing he says or does ever makes any logical sense.

Ironwood, awkwardly clearing his throat to bring everyone's attention back to him: I ummm, appreciate the offer seargeant however um...the kingdom of Atlas would preffer to remain neutral in this......"conflict"...

*Building rumbles*

Ironwood, standing up and on alert: What was that!? Schnee the cameras!

Winter, pulling her scroll to look at the security feed, a confused look plastering her face once she sees Nora rampaging through Atlas academy on her screen: Huuuuuh.....sir? You might want to see thi-

Nora, through Winter's scroll: WHERE ARE YOU WOODY!? DON'T THINK YOU CAN HIDE FROM ME AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO MY BABY BOY!

Winter, raising an eyebrow in confusion, as Ironwood's eyes widen in realisation: Baby...boy?

Penny, chirping cheerfully as Ironwood wipes the sweat from his forehead: I did not know friend Nora had a child!

Nora, busting into the office, the rest of JNPR standing awkwardly behind her: KNOCK KNOCK.

Church, exasperated: Oh no its another color coded fighting girl with a transformy weapon.

Carolina: Holy shit what did you do to piss this girl off?

Ironwood, pulling his collar: I ummmmm-

Oscar, poking his head into the room, speaking in a casual manner: He shot me.

Church: Where the fuck did you come from???

Carolina, glaring at Ironwood: You shot a child!?

Oscar, crossing his arms and staring at Ironwood with a smirk on his face: Yup. Off a bridge too.

Sarge, flatly: I don't want this guy in my army anymore...

Ironwood: Now I know what I did was wrong but, I'm sure if we all calm down we can tal-

Nora, slamming Ironwood trough the floor with her hammer, causing him to fall several floors down: VIBE CHECK!

Carolina: Oooooo I like her.

Sarge: Hands off blue. I saw her first.

Carolina, looking down the hole Ironwood fell through: Do you think he's dead?

Ren: No, his aura must've saved him.

Church: Seriously!? Jesus this aura crap is bullshit!

*awkward silence*

Pyrrha, breaking the silence: Sooooo want to go do more comedy segments?

Carolina, turning to face Pyrrha: Sounds lovely. You....have a very nice voice by the way.

Pyrrha, blushing: O-oh thank you! Your voice is very pleasant as well!

Lopez, in spanish, as everyone else leaves the room: Come on Penny lets blow this joint.

Penny, following Lopez out of the room: With pleasure friend Lopez! But I must ask. What joints shall we be blowing?

Ironwood, after everyone leaves the room, his voice barely audible from down the hole he fell into: Hello? Winter? Anybody??? I'm still stuck down here! Hellooooooooooo????

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Veemo's notes: This one took me a long time cause I didn't know how I wanted to end it. Sorry for the wait! 🙏😔