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snowbellewells · 3 months

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Self Promo Sunday: "Sky's Canvas"

This little future Swan-Jones-Mills family fic envisioning them during their happy beginning post-s6 would probably have been well suited to Father's Day last week, but I didn't think of it until too late. I hope it will still be enjoyable this week too. It's a part of my one shot collection on AO3 or ff.net (if you'd prefer to read it either of those places instead) I hope you have fun picturing this alternate idea of what might have happened - and I'd love to hear what you think!

Notes: I toyed with the idea for this one for quite some time. The prompt elements that I have used are: a museum, the phrase “it was just a joke”, and also some small art facts – mostly about the particular museum itself (which is real). I have also put in a CS daughter (my personal head canon imagined one, Morgan Ruth Jones, whom I have written about before), and a college aged Henry. So, this is set somewhere in an alternative post-season 6 reality, where Henry stays in the Land Without Magic to seek his story, and also to be close enough to visit his family often, and for them to return the favor…)

by: @snowbellewells

The bubbly, nonstop chatter of her four-year-old little girl, which has cheerfully been filling Emma Swan’s ears for the past hour and a half, suddenly stills, immediately grabbing her attention and setting off an interior maternal alarm. She turns to seek out Morgan Ruth Jones – her little pirate princess – wondering if her daughter has yet again managed to sneak away from them and find herself in some sort of trouble.

Luckily, Emma doesn’t have to look far before she hears a chortling trill of baby laughter and locates her toddler with the disheveled head of dark, ringlet curls and twinkling, mischievous eyes – an aquamarine mix of her own green gaze and her father’s ocean blue – standing before a huge oil painting of a Spanish galleon rocking precariously on the stormy main and looking up at her father with fixed adoration. “Really, Papa?” Emma hears Morgan chirp, practically bouncing on the balls of her little feet as she tugs anxiously at his hook in eagerness to hear his answer. “Was it a storm that big you sailed ‘Roger’ through when you went to save Henwy in Neverland?!”

Emma is just chuckling wryly at the changes which have transpired in her life to give her a little girl more interested in daring adventures, ancient naval ships, and sword fighting than frilly dresses or dolls and makeup, even as her husband raises his eyes just enough to smirk at her knowingly over Morgan’s head, when another voice, youthful, warm, and settling into its masculine, adult timbre, answers Morgan’s question from over her shoulder, announcing Henry’s arrival to join them. “It was bigger, Pipsqueak,” he confirms jovially, pausing briefly to wrap a wiry arm around his mom in a quick side-hug before continuing to the side of his younger half-sister, kneeling to her level and adding with a gleam in his eye, “A mermaid summoned it to drown them all.”

“Hen-wy!!” Morgan squeals with glee; the painting, and even her papa’s beloved ship, forgotten as she flings herself into her brother’s arms with enough force to nearly bowl him over, causing Henry to chuckle as he catches her close to his chest.

“Hey Munchkin,” he greets affectionately, standing to his full height again – now even with his stepdad’s – still holding Morgan, her arms wrapped around his neck so tightly that Emma has to wonder if she’s ever going to let go. Turning to include his mom and his surrogate father in his next statement, Henry adds. “It’s great to see you all. Things must be quiet in Storybrooke, if you’re still going to stay all weekend.”

Here he arcs an eyebrow in curious bemusement, a trait Emma realizes all too well that he has picked up from her dashing scoundrel of a husband and probably uses to equally charming effect on all the girls he meets in his freshman courses at Bowdoin College. It is clear he has settled easily into the small arts school in Brunswick, Maine, just under a two hours’ drive from them, and that the campus atmosphere and freeing anonymity and normalcy he has there must be agreeing with him. Emma wants to snort in disbelieving laughter at his jest, though well aware that he knows better than to ever think his hometown would go completely, boringly normal. Instead, she shakes her head resignedly, merely giving her grown son a playfully long-suffering sigh. “You know how it is,” she shrugs, “never a dull moment. But – if you don’t count the dwarves coming to blows at Granny’s the other morning because Tom Clark accidentally sat in Leroy’s spot at the counter and got his flu germs on Leroy’s plate of bacon and eggs…”

“Which I do count,” Killian interrupts smoothly, winking at his adopted son. “I am the one who risked infection from the virus in forestalling their skirmish.”

Emma rolls her eyes at her deputy husband’s interruption and mutters “drama queen” under her breath, which Henry and Morgan both clearly hear and snicker at before she continues, “Otherwise it’s been as quiet as it ever gets. No deathly dangerous villains or curses meant to tear us apart and wipe our memories blank.”

“Yet…” Killian adds on needlessly, an ominous tone in his voice acknowledging the fact that they all know it’s only a matter of time before some new threat is wreaking havoc again. Their sleepy little town might seem like a place lost in time and space, but it is still a veritable magnet for trouble, and none of them can deny it.

Killian, however, waggles his brows playfully after his foreboding aside, making Henry shake his own head at his stepfather. It had seemed a rather grim pronouncement for the reformed pirate – more like his mom, really.

Morgan grins widely back at her father, nodding in gleeful agreement, her gap-toothed smile showing where she has lost a fair few of her baby teeth recently. “Yeah…yet!” she exclaims, not fully understanding the concern behind the sentiment, but always ready – as is her entire extended family – for action and excitement.

Emma shakes her head in humored exasperation at her two “children” – wondering, as she often does, how someone who has seen and experienced as much as Killian, who has witnessed some of the worst humanity had to offer and suffered at their hands, who has lived so long and weathered such crushing heartbreak and hate, can still easily find such simple, child-like joy in the littlest things. “Really, guys?” she questions, looking to her college student son for more mature support. “Can’t we just enjoy things being normal for once?”

“Aye, of course, my Love,” Killian replies deftly. “ ‘Twas merely a joke,” he adds, leaning over to brush a quick kiss to her brow that makes Morgan giggle, hide her face in Henry’s shoulder, and cry out, “Eww, they’re kissing again!” in a frank, tickling whisper against her older sibling’s skin.

“Just a joke is right,” Henry declares, motioning them forward to venture on into the rest of the Bowdoin College Museum and toward the particular exhibit he wants them to see. The collection was an 1811 bequest from a wealthy benefactor to the school and was one of the earliest college art collections in the country, as Henry had enthusiastically told her over the phone some weeks ago when his project had commenced. His Maritime History class had done a cross-curriculum partnership with the arts department to put together a student exhibit of research and mixed media in the college’s museum, and Henry has been quite secretive about his entry, even if insistent that they needed to see it in person. “Like anyone could be around you lot for long and think you were normal!” he scoffs.

“Ha ha,” his mother laughs drolly, bumping into his side with her shoulder in playful retribution as they move ahead side-by-side, with Killian, who is now holding a wriggling Morgan once again, following closely behind. However, once the jostling ceases, Emma grasps her nearly-grown son’s hand in hers for a moment, stunned anew at how much he has changed from the little boy who had found her in Boston all those years ago, and led her into the very life she has now. Squeezing tightly with emotion welling up in her throat, she wishes he could truly understand how much she loves him.

“Missed you too, Mom,” Henry murmurs softly, pressing her fingers back with his own wrapped around them. It is more than enough and makes her heart flutter in gladness.

Once Henry leads them through a few different rooms and several intriguing displays, he slows when they reach a large, somewhat circular room with a high, arched ceiling, and then turns to them with a mysterious smile on his face and clear anticipation in his big, brown eyes, just as they have always held, even at ten years old.

At first glance, this particular exhibit, this room in itself, seems empty. Looking around with faces equally full of curiosity and confusion, Killian, Emma, and Morgan end up staring back at Henry expectantly until Killian finally speaks up, “Begging your pardon, Lad, but I’m afraid I am not quite certain what you wish for us to see.”

Henry gives a nod of acknowledgement, rather knowingly pleased, and making Emma smirk to herself with a mother’s satisfaction at seeing her son so confidently happy and in his element. ‘He’s definitely got something up his sleeve,’ she thinks affectionately, admittedly finding herself anxious to see what his surprise might be. She knows that Henry has been loving this course all term – not to mention how thrilled her husband had been at the news – and that the long term practicum research projects are being showcased here throughout the entire month of April. Emma can only conclude that her son’s hard work has paid off in a way he’s proud of, and he must believe wholeheartedly that they will be too.

All Henry says is, “I take it you’re ready then?” and at Killian’s nod and Morgan’s “Yes, yes, YES, Henwy!!” exclamation, while she hops up and down exuberantly, he switches off the lights and presses a previously unnoticed button next to the light switch.

Immediately, the light and airy sound of some sort of flute or piccolo trickles through the quiet air of the room, a gently evocative melody with a lingering, haunted quality to its tone, enhanced by the sound echoing beneath of waves washing gently against the hull of some easily floating ship or back and forth over the shore of some deserted bay. Even as the sounds which are familiar and comforting to his tiny family audience wrap around them, small pinpricks of light appear just like stars in the night sky out on the ocean, sparking to life on the walls around them and the high ceiling overhead. It is a constellation spread out just for them in breathtaking majesty. Then, the Author begins to narrate his newest story…

Listening to Henry’s words, Emma feels her breath catch just a bit in both awe and emotion, glancing quickly over at her husband and daughter, before either of them realizes they are being observed. Morgan’s green eyes are wide and sparkling with interest and excitement, her mouth an open “o” as she looks above her, dazzled at what would appear for all the world to be the stars and constellations in the night sky brought indoors and spread out for their entertainment. Killian is silent and still, so much so that Emma knows – as few others would – just how valiantly he is battling some strong emotion…how very touched he is. Emma was never as great a student of the star charts and navigational astronomy as her sailor would have loved to make her, but Henry ate it right up, and she would bet her battered and beloved old VW that Henry has recreated some particular display that holds an extra meaning for he and his stepdad alone.

Shaking herself slightly to bring her focus back to earth and her attention back to the words of Henry’s presentation once more, she hears her son’s voice – soothing, engaging, and reeling her into the adventurous stories behind the scattered specks of light arrayed above them and their meaning and guidance to generations of sailors making their ways on a wide and pathless sea.

“The Cygnus,” Killian mouths silently beside her, appearing genuinely awestruck as he takes his gaze just momentarily from Henry’s representative “sky” to look in the eyes of the young man he has for years now cared for and loved like a son; a sincere gaze of fond understanding passing between them that brings a film of unshed tears to Emma’s vision that she has to rapidly blink away. In fact, soundless though it may be, she catches Killian’s comment only because she is so focused on her husband and his emotional reaction to this gift Henry has given all of them – but her pirate in particular. Emma senses that Killian knows it in this moment and holds tightly to his fingers twined with hers while practically beaming at her son, wondering again how she ever got lucky enough that the two most important people in her world would love each other as much as they each love her.

Morgan reaches over from Killian’s arms to pat her mother’s cheeks as Henry concludes his tale and turns the lights back up. “Don’t cry, Mama,” Morgan coos sweetly. “Henwy’s story was happy in the end. The Swan leads the sailor to his home.”

Emma smiles shakily at her daughter, and then the rest of her family with their looks of understanding. “I know, Baby,” Emma murmurs softly, still brushing away the evidence, but with her smile growing broader all the while. “Don’t worry. These are happy tears.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @branlovestowrite

@linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors

#self promo sunday #cs future family fluff #canon divergent cs ff post s6 #sky's canvas #cs one shot #cs famiily fluff #captain cobra feels #cs baby: morgan ruth jones

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invisible-pink-toast · 6 months

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what if 2x01 ended a little differently...

Regina’s an idiot.

Generally she’d say she was smart. Calculating. A strategist. She’s able to play people and think twelve steps ahead. And she never lets any arduous emotions get in the way.

Well.

Usually.

There are a few people that she struggles to keep those emotions in check with. She managed it with her parents, both their deaths on her hands, but they were necessary. But then there was Snow White. As much as Regina hated it, the pesky, plucky little princess had a way of getting under her skin, and there were moments where her revenge had blinded her. And then Henry. She loved her son, she’d do almost anything for him. And she’s spent so many months so desperately afraid that she would lose him. First to his own hatred of her, then later to his ridiculous, meddlesome birth mother. And in the last twenty four hours, Regina had felt a terror she’d never known, watching her baby boy lying motionless on a hospital bed. Yes, despite the rumours, Regina was not heartless. There were times she acted against her best interest, when there was something her emotions deemed more important.

Emma Swan is not one of those more important things.

Emma Swan has been a thorn in her side since the moment she showed up in Storybrooke. She was an annoying, immature, nosy, frustrating, self-righteous, callous bitch. And apparently a Charming too. No wonder Regina hated her (aside from the girl’s stupid decision to give up the most wonderful person Regina’s ever known only to show up ten years later to claim him like she has any right - what a completely self-centred, inexperienced, interfering hag-)

Anyway. Regina does not care about Emma Swan. She’d actually tried to kill her yesterday. And her life would be so much simpler if she’d just made the woman eat that apple turnover in her kitchen.

Only now is Emma Swan not only not dead but she’s the Saviour and has broken the curse. And Regina is powerless in a town full of people baying for her blood, and her son hates her, and she’s been marked for a fate worse than death.

Regina might be the Evil Queen, but she’s never sucked anyone’s soul out. There have to be some lines.

Her only hope to survive the wraith relied on two things: 1) Henry wanting to protect her (which means more to her then anything) and 2) a charming trio of idiots. Emma Swan in particular. Because she was the one who promised Henry she’d protect Regina. Regina, the Evil Queen, is being protected by the very Saviour whose curse-breaking is the reason she needs protection! And Regina’s magic isn’t working and she needs this stupid hat to open a portal and her arch-nemesis’ - Prince Charming and everyone’s beloved princess Snow White - were fighting off the wraith with fire. And brooms. Because Regina’s fate is only getting more ridiculous and she’s probably about to have her soul sucked out.

But then Emma Swan grabs her arm. And Regina feels a spark. A flow of energy, of magic, right as she spins the hat. And maybe her fate isn’t over yet, because the portal opens.

Regina can feel her own magic flowing through her, so familiar and entrancing. But her magic was blocked and the hat wasn’t working so that can only mean…

Emma Swan is beside her, looking down at her own hands with a stunned expression. So she felt it too.

Only when the Saviour glances up, her expression shifts to one of terror, and Regina can feel death behind her, the wraith closing in. And she’s never made up with Henry.

In her final moment, this is what she regrets the most. Not her failed revenge plans, not the dark path her life took, but that the last time she saw her son he looked at her with disappointment and distrust and fear. She wishes she’d been a better mother.

But there’s no cold clutch of the wraith’s claws, the pull of its powers as it sucks out a soul and drains a life. No, there’s only Emma Swan, her hands shoving Regina out of the way as the wraith flies past, a second too late, before it’s dragged into the portal. Into oblivion. Good riddance.

(And that’s three times today the Saviour’s saved Regina’s life. Three times today Henry’s promise kept her alive.)

The wraith wails as it’s pulled down, but then a tendril of magic flies back up. The damned creature having one final act of vengeance. Only it doesn’t grab Regina. It latches onto Emma.

Emma Swan, who is standing closest to the portal. Emma Swan, who is only standing closest to the portal because she pushed Regina out of the way and saved her life. Again. Third time today. Emma Swan, who is haughty and intrusive and broke Regina’s curse. Emma Swan, who loves Henry so deeply and purely that her true love’s kiss saved his life this very morning. Emma Swan, who doesn’t look much like a Saviour with her frightened scream as the wraith drags her down.

And Regina does have a heart. She must, because her head was certainly not working in this moment.

The moment where she reached out to grab Emma Swan’s hand, to try to save her. For all the good it did.

So, yes. Regina is an idiot. The only thing it achieved was causing Regina to be sucked into the portal too.

#obviously it would change the rest of 2A alot but idk i don't really care #i love the idea of emma and regina bickering like an old married couple #while tromping through the forbidden forrest and arguing about co-parenting #while mulan and aurora just give each other the side eye like 'are you hearing this too?'#regina mills #swanqueen #emma swan #ouat #once upon a time #2x01 #broken #my fics #my post

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gretagretagreta · 1 year

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greta lü spence intro

— pinterest

— CHARACTER STATS

FULL NAME: greta lü spence

AGE, BIRTHDAY: 20, sepetember 3rd, 2002

PRONOUNS: she/her

SEXUALITY: pansexual

HOMETOWN: new york city, new york

SKILLS: ballet, polyglotism, speed-reading

+ industrious, practical, alluring

- critical, brazen, aloof

— CHARACTER AESTHETICS

the blur of tulle in motion, a pile of dead pointe shoes, standing in flamingo stance, smudgy makeup wipes, new york city subway tunnels, velvet curtains, a clear travel water bottle full of chlorophyll water, city rooftops, surfaces cluttered with makeup and bobby pins, dad sneakers

— FAMILY, the lü spence family is based in new york city, new york (east village)

MOTHER: eleanor lü spence — literature professor

FATHER: ailun lü spence — nurse

SIBLINGS: N/A

— OGDEN STATS

YEAR: junior

MAJOR OF STUDY: dance, literature

EXTRACURRICULARS: ballet, dance team, queer alliance

— SKELETON TROPE: THE CHILD PRODIGY

greta has been a ballet dancer since the age of four, though she’d been watching it practically since infancy. though, not due to affluent or artistic surroundings. her introduction and lasting involvement in the art can actually be credited to the fact that it doubled as childcare. with two parents working full-time, it was incredibly convenient to have her take part in an activity that was so involved. dance studios became a second, if not first, home that fostered a natural talent turned attuned skill. while greta didn’t always have the equipment and extra training of her much wealthier counterparts, her talent and determination was evident from the beginning. it afforded her several opportunities and scholarships, including an academic scholarship to study dance at ogden.

— RELATIONSHIP TO GREER

most teens and young adults in new york city knew who the morrisons—more specifically, the morrison children—were. with news items and viral social media posts not being uncommon, it was more difficult to not at least have heard their names before. greta’s experience was no different, despite growing up under very different circumstances than the blonde. she saw her social media handles pop up every so often and even got held up trying to sneak into a club once, because of her arrival. that said, greta never met greer and didn’t know her. not really.

— ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, what’s known of greta

“swan lake (suite)” by tchaikovsky starts playing (skip to 1:00)

other tropes: insufferable genius, the ace, no social skills, tranquil fury, the dreaded

siri, play the entirety of life support by madison beer

“sorry, i can’t, i have dance”

laughs in ancient language

pioneering something called "gritted teeth optimism" where everything is gonna turn out okay even if i have to bite and claw and gnash my way through it

quite bleak, straightforward, and sarcastic, but not loud and not intentionally rude generally (unless, well, the situation calls for it, in her opinion)

she’s got a gaze like a siren, she’ll catch your eye from across the room and refuse to break contact first

so slick, so sleek, idk how else to put it

but, of course, there's a softness that may expose itself in rare one-on-one situations, because she does really want to know people

known to cozy up to someone at a party, go back to their dorm with them, and then not speak to them again until they run into each-other in person

not the best at relationships, clearly

greta’s too busy with dance to pursue a legitimate relationship, anyway (or so she says), she’s constantly in and out of classes and rehearsals and a part of shows

not to mention her job as a local dance instructor to kiddos in town

dry humor

more often than not wearing sweats over her dance class/rehearsal clothes or, like, a little baby tee and shorts

otherwise, a big fan of little top, big bottom or, like, a cute little dress at parties

if not something almost ophelia-esque and ghostly

really loves playing with both her femininity and masculinity

insufferably smart, worst person to argue with; but will also get to a point where she just stops talking and looks you dead in the eye for prolonged seconds

has anyone ever heard her raise her voice? probably not

big fan of classic literature, could talk about it for hours, has tons of opinions on authors of the time and their works (thanks to her mom’s career)

will update with more as it comes to me

— ADDITIONAL LINKS

tasks

edits (mine and reblogged)

#ogdenintro

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polakrt · 1 year

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I did it!

i finally got my shit together and draw* my oc <3

a bit of LORE:

ajam...

“Living under the shadow of her daredevil, older twin brother Octane, her life is fully dedicated to her last name: Silva. Graduated as an A+ student with a PhD in Economics, it's still not enough for Duardo to see her as the future CEO of the family company. You see, while growing up, Octane had whatever he wanted instantly, but Seth had to earn it. And she believes Octane's actual position with "popps" belongs to her. That's why she infiltrates into the Apex Games: to kill her blood and claim the throne.

But she's not just some envious little sister, Seth won much of her fortune by making music. She gained recognition collaborating with famous DJ from Solace, Rhapsody. The song went viral and hit the charts, making her first big income at 15 years-old. She then continued collaborating with other artist, but then made a big jump and started her solo career, whether it is playing in classical concerts, making movie soundtracks or hitting the charts with every new single she releases.

Also, she was a classical dancer from age 6 and danced professionally until her 18th birthday. She was first dancer three years in a row and participated in important projects such as ‘The Black Swan’, ‘Four Modern Seasons’ and ‘The Nutcracker’‚ her favourite”.

• Abilities:

Passive “Pitch Perfect”**: can hear footsteps from enemies and recognise some (like Wraith's passive)

Tactical “Ghost Note”: can make her self invisible for 8 seconds, but can hear her footsteps and leave a trace (Bloodhound's passive)

Ultimate “Triplets”: can turn her team into nearby objects for 16 seconds, but with no shields (like Revenant's ultimate)

now, a bit of context of her creation:

It was mid season 12 of Apex (Feb/2022). I was really hooked on the lore and I asked myself "what if he has a sister who wants to kill him? haha" ... and it CLICKED, so I run to my PC and made her in the Sims 4 lol and then, I focused more on writing her background, like:

→ her accent (Spanish from Spain, with a mix of Andalusian)

→ her second name (J is for Jesusa aaaah so good, so español)

→ who raised her and Octane (to me, it was Cecilia, the house keeper, because she formed some kind of bond when they were babies and it was Cecilia's first job)

→ some aspects of domestic violence which Octane went through too (her lip scar, for example, explained in ↓)

→ HER QUEST !!! (yes, I wrote a season quest, I'm that dedicated to my OCs)

→ her relationship with Octane (how it was, how it evolves and how it is)

the * and the other ** (idk the names!!! I'm much more intelligent in Spanish !!11!1):

*draw → I'm not professional and I'm sure I made some mistakes los hombros, but I it's something I've been keeping for myself for a very long time and it was killing me !!!

**Pitch Perfect → I know Rhapsody has the same passive (kind of), but I made her before Rhapsody was released and I've never played Apex Mobile, so it was a bit shocking when I found out lol

I fell in love with her, honestly...

hope you liked her ♥

#apex legends #apex #apex oc #apex legends oc #apex octane #octane #original character #sara silva #spanish #english #spaniard #spaniard oc

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steele-soulmate · 11 months

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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 480, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death

WORDS: 1786

“What are you doing, blueberry of my heart?” Peter laughed when he found me repacking my hospital bag. Packed with comfy pajamas, a nursing bra, a sleep mask, moisturizing lip balm, postpartum panties, warm socks, and a pillow for me and four onesies in various shades of greens and purples, green hand crocheted socks and a purple handknitted hat, a knitted baby blankie in green ombre and diapers for Baby Violet Marie. I also had a backpack packed with a book, a spare phone changer, my milk pump, a puzzle book, my toiletries, nipple cream, my hairbrush and hair ties, a giant sized gallon water bottle, my prescription medications, and a little tub where I could place my wedding band for a just in case moment.

“Just keeping busy until Baby Violet Marie decides to yeet herself out through my hoohaw,” I muttered as I refolded my pajamas. “My love, my anxiety is absolutely fucking horrible right now.”

“I can’t imagine the sheer level of stress that you’re feeling right now,” he chuckled, crossing into the room to hold open the pink and blue floral duffle bag that was the designated hospital bag.

I only let out an anxious hum as I shook out a onesie before placing it back into the duffle bag, my hand fluttering about my tummy, where Baby Violet Marie was practicing her solo for Swan Lake.

KICK KICK KICK PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH KICK PUNCH

“Baby Violet Marie is thirty seven weeks along and is currently the size of a winter melon,” I fretted as I perched myself onto the bed. “My love, do you want another Ratajczyk baby after Baby Violet Marie?”

“Honestly sweetheart?” Peter took to a knee to look me in the eye as he reached up to gently caress my cheek with his knuckles. “I would really like one or two more Ratajczyk babies with you, but if you would rather Baby Violet Marie be our last baby together, I’m not going to argue with you.”

“Why?” I meeped, in utter awe of this man who I was privileged to call mine.

“Sweetheart, I can see how traumatizing it is for you to carry a baby to full term before bringing them into the world,” he validated me with a sweet kiss. “I love you sweetheart- you are so fucking brave.”

“I think I can do one more Ratajczyk baby,” I shrugged, twisting my head to place a tender kiss to his thumb. “One more.”

“One more?” he breathed, smiling down at me.

“One more,” I smiled. “But please, can we wait a few more years before we think of conceiving Baby Ratajczyk number three?”

“Of course,” he smiled down at my physically smaller frame.

“If you give me another Irish twin, I will gut you from you dick to your Adam’s apple,” I grumbled.

“Yes sweetheart.”

~xoXox~

I was eating leftover pizza cold out of the fridge when Peter found me once more. I wore a pair of pale blue panties and an oversized green t-shirt of my husband’s, and nothing more, currently feeling too lazy to bother with much.

“Hey there sweetheart,” he greeted me with a smile as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a green Gatorade. “I would have bought food up for you.”“I wanted to get up and walk around some,” I shrugged after swallowing. “Ya prosto goloden papochka.” “I can tell, sweetheart,” he said as he reopened the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of freshly washed blueberries. “You need to eat more- after all, you are growing an amazing new life in your womb.”

“Yes daddy,” I meeped as I finished up my slice of pepperoni pizza and reaching for another slice in the half full pizza box.

Peter smiled as he hoisted me up onto the counter and stepped in closely to me, providing me with his manly chest to lean up against.

“Daddy, can we discuss the birthing plan again?” I asked in a soft voice as he plucked the half-eaten slice of cold pizza from my hands and held it out for me. “Please?”

“As my woman commands of me,” he answered me, the corners of his eyes crinkling upwards, indicating that he was smiling at me. “What do you want to discuss?”

“Ebrithang,” I mumbled through a mouth full of food. I swallowed and reclarified, “Everything.”

“I will call Ryley while we’re on our way to the hospital and she will spring load your plan to have a team of all female nurses and a female doctor to tend to you,” he repeated in a gentle tone of voice. “When we get to the hospital, you will go up at once for an ultrasound to determine whether or not you need a C-section. If you do, you will be prepped for surgery and taken to an operating room. If not, you will be taken to the maternity ward, where you will be tended to by an all-female team. An epidural block will be administrated to you when you are at four centimeters dilated and you can walk around some if needed.”

“Wow, you remembered all that?” I blinked owlishly at this man with his intimidating size, brutish fangs, long dyed waves and heart of pure gold.

“I read over your birthing plan when I can’t sleep,” he shrugged sheepishly. “I will not allow for anything to go wrong.”

“My love, nothing will go wrong,” I hummed, pressing an opened mouthed kiss to the side of his jawbone. “Trust me.”

Ya prosto goloden papochka, I’m just hungry daddy, Russian

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#Real person fiction (RPF)#Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL)#Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down’s Syndrome #Baby Violet Marie #Neonatal death #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

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andrewuttaro · 2 years

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Legacy of the Rhinos: a Eulogy

What is the legacy of the Rochester Rhinos soccer team?

The Rochester Rhinos were founded in 1996 with visions of soccer grandeur akin to the Lancers of NASL past. They caught fire, fought hard and forged a winning pedigree, a dynasty of six regular season conference or divisional titles, four league titles and a legendary U.S. Open Cup Championship greater than anything else. A scrappy, small-city soccer club outside the bounds of the newly founded Major League Soccer had won the domestic title.

That Open Cup title has no comparable in American sports.

The club rode the wave of their dynasty, grasping at the topflight only to fall short profoundly close but yet so painfully far. The fall began. The original dreamers who founded the organization lost it by financial mismanagement only to see their successors mismanage it every other way. The dynasty declined but the pedigree never did. They made the playoffs all but one season for the rest of their existence. Somehow, through a multi-year hiatus and a global pandemic, the club came back just long enough to change the brand, court a named European footballer, and then fall apart again only a season back from the dead.

As we carve the epitaph we can’t help but ask: What is the Rochester Rhinos legacy?

I’ve pondered it a lot since I returned to the club of my childhood as an adult. I came too late. You could already read the writing on the wall before hiatus was on anyone’s lips. My parents’ generation endeared me and many others to the club of the horn-skewered soccer ball. They chanted “If you can’t join em, Beat em!” The Rochester Raging Rhinos did beat em. They beat them all. Perhaps the only thing they couldn’t beat was the shifting sands of time and a domestic soccer landscape leaping ahead itself as the rage was dropped and the club couldn’t keep up. They didn’t want us anymore and that was enough for many to lose interest.

What is the legacy of the Rochester Rhinos? They are proof winning doesn’t do anything for you if the sports business isn’t enriching the right real estate barons. Ain’t that the truth?

Legacy is something transmitted to or received from ancestors. Legacy is something of deep value beyond the immediately evident. Legacy is an intangible thing more than just championships or records on a stat sheet. Legacy is what makes history last emotionally. What makes the Rochester Rhinos last? Who sings their swan song? What does the green and gold, the black and white, the solid yellow, the Rhinos of Rochester mean beyond the obvious failings of the indifferent morality of the almighty dollar? Hope. The answer is hope.

The Rochester Rhinos won fun soccer games twenty years ago. Even then the whole thing ran on hope they’d be something awesome in a sport this country still hardly appreciates. Hope.

Once upon a time professional sports emerged from college campuses on this continent with the idea it would be a profitable venture riding on the back of civic pride. Ra-ra stuff but for those of us who aren’t attached to a ubiquitous D1 collegiate team in insert-sport-here. I still lose my mind at hockey games when they stop playing and start fighting: those guys are wearing the laundry representing my once-great rust belt city after all! Who knows what my city looks like in fifty years when I pretend to retire: I’ll always have this civic hope Kool-Aid the ruling class deemed safe for the peons. Those are memories. Those are little rays of hope that I am from somewhere at the very least. Maybe even a peak into the legendary eternal.

That was the legacy of the Rochester Rhinos. A dynasty twenty years ago and a long decline that reminded you what intangibles are and how much rich people hate your ruinous town.

Major League Soccer didn’t want us because those owners were in over their heads, and we weren’t a top fifty media market. The stadium location excuse is for white flight babies and lawyers on City Hall payroll. This team could have survived in the rough-and-tumble world of lower league American soccer with the right kind of owner. They never came. The generation that grew up watching the dynasty moved to North Carolina for more promising work just like the women’s team. Us gross soccer nerds who remained were too busy to adapt or too ultra to innovate. A good owner could have given us the right incentives and amenities. They never came. Help never comes for hometowns like ours. Hope sustains us helping each other.

Now the Rochester Rhinos are gone, and the hope remains.

It’s not the hope for yet another revival. That part is over. The hope is what it leaves with us. Hope that what we decide to keep alive in our hearts will be worth it one day in some stupid, semi-spiritual way. The greatest things in life are like that. That is what the Rhinos really were, in the good times and the bad, feast or famine: a clinic on how to hope. For that I am eternally grateful.

Hope and rage forever.

In the end that old cheer still rings out: “If you can’t join em, Beat em!” They didn’t let us join em, and eventually they even found a way to prevent us from beating any meaningful club too. Tax the rich. They never took the rage out of us did they? Hope never dies. And they only made the rage in us burn evermore. We’ll rage forever whether the plutocrats say we can or not. That is the Rochester Raging Rhinos. That is the spirit of the club that will never die.

The Rochester Rhinos forever in the hope of our hearts.

1996-2023

#rochester rhinos #Rochester New York #soccer

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liptonsbabe · 3 years

Text

My dear [S.U]

Sam Uley x Fem! reader!

Summary: “Did you have a hard day? You can complain to me. Did something make you almost cry? It’s alright, look at me. Starting from now, think of three really good things: the warm air, the dazzling weather, and me outside your window. I told you, you can see brightness only when it gets dark”

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, death, heart dissease and such. English not my mother language so pls let me know if something’s wrong

gif’s not mine

"Sorry to bother you, Chief," you said following the man's moves through your house. Charlie Swan was carrying a reclining chair with ease leaving it in the middle of the living room while you stood at the bottom of the stairs with your little four year old daughter in your arms. Cassie was exhausted. It had been a long plane ride and a bit more road travel, which knocked your little girl out as soon as you set foot in your new home in Forks. It was a long time since you had seen that place but of course you remembered Charlie Swan as kind as he had always been. Even when you were just starting to think about moving back to Forks he was the first to help you get a safe home for you and your daughter. You remembered looking up for Charlie's old phone number hoping it was still the same and when you dialed and heard the man's voice behind the phone you sighed in relief. At last life seemed to be smiling on you after a long time and Charlie was quick to offer to help you if you decided to return to town.

He told you about a house for sale next to his. The owner was elderly and preferred to live with one of her children and earn income from the house near the forest that could be bought by curious tourists so Charlie convinced her to sell you the house and at a lower price than she was originally asking because the house needed some repairs that he could do. So you thought no more about it and packed your things to return to Forks after the horrible years you had lived in Brownsville.

Charlie picked you up at the airport in his police cruiser and avoided turning on the siren cause Cassie was already half asleep in your arms when you got off the plane and he didn't want to disturb her, but Cassie had the strength to stay awake long enough to make him promise that next time he would turn on the siren as they drove around town.

The truth was that Charlie Swan was an angel. He arranged everything so you would have a quick return and even now he was bothering to get all your stuff out of the moving truck so you wouldn't have the worry of doing it later.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to do it. Besides, it's my day off."

"And that's why you shouldn't be doing all this. I know vacations for police officers are non-recurring."

"I'm the chief, I have certain privileges."

"Still."

"Well, I wasn't going to let you do this on your own" he replied, carrying the boxes with your and Cassie's clothes. He set them down on the kitchen island and leaned back against them to rest. You walked over and settling Cassie better in your arms you sat down in one of the chairs Charlie had given you "Billy and Jacob will be here in a little while to get all this settled so you can have your first night here without any problems."

"I still think it's too much. Stop spoiling me like this, Charlie, you even gave me part of your dining room!"

"Ah, it was nothing. Bella and I recently bought a new one and we didn't want to take it to the dump cause it still has some use. The table is made out of good wood and the chairs are freshly upholstered. Look at it, it suits perfectly!"

"That's not the point" you said, glancing sideways at the newly arranged dining room near the kitchen "The point is that you're doing a lot for me and it's not fair."

"Your father would have done the same for Bella if it had been about me" he replied reaching for a bottle of water from the installed cooler. A sudden tension appeared in the room as you both remembered what your father's life was like in Forks "Jackson was my best friend for a long time and when he died...I promised him that I would seek you out and support you as if you were my own and that is precisely what I am doing."

"You wouldn't have if I hadn't left and hadn't abandoned him. He died because of me"

"That's not true."

"He was left alone when I left. He died of grief"

"He died from the heart valve disease he had. Your father suffered it from a young age and even so, you had a right to look for your mother"

"I wish I hadn't" you murmured, cooing to Cassie who was beginning to get annoyed by the noise of your voices "I abandoned my father and didn't find anything worthwhile"

"Well, that doesn't matter anymore, stop tormenting yourself and thinking you killed your father. I was with him. He loved you and he died peacefully, remember him as the good man he was, child."

You sighed. Cassie went back to sleep peacefully

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but you have me now and I'd rather die than let you leave again, do you hear me?"

"Easy, I have no intention of doing that" you half smiled "I'm running away from the tracks I left in Brownsville, I have no desire to go back under any circumstances. What I'm worried about is that the tracks won't rub off and show the way to the one I'm hiding from"

Charlie clicked his tongue.

"That should be the least of your problems. I have a gun and I know how to use it. He'll have to deal with that first before he gets to you."

"Thanks, Charlie."

"Although, if Chief Swan is as good at shooting as he is at fishing then you'll have to learn how to handle a gun yourself, honey" a voice appeared from the doorway followed by a young man's laughter. You looked up meeting the unmistakable face of Billy Black next to his son Jacob. Billy entered your house being pushed by Jacob leaving him next to Charlie as he rolled his eyes "Be a little more modest, buddy."

"There's nothing wrong with bragging once in a while."

"Yeah, but you do it all the time."

"Shut up."

"Make me"

Charlie got up from his spot lunging towards Billy who ina swift movement spun the wheels of his chair avoiding Charlie's attack thus beginning a chase through the house dodging the obstacles of boxes on the floor. Jacob laughed taking Charlie's place in front of you.

"I thought we were coming to help with the move, not to watch them play like preschoolers?"

"Me too. I think Cassie will get along with them."

"Your little girl will beat them up right away"

"Probably."

You giggled quietly avoiding waking Cassie as Charlie and Billy finished their game to go back to the truck and get the last boxes, then you could finally get everything settled at home. Jacob smiled, looking at you

"I'm Jacob. You may not remember me but..."

"Are you kidding? I used to give you the bottle."

"No you didn't."

"Of course i did! My dad used to visit your parents a lot and he used to take me with him. You were a newborn baby and I used to volunteer to help Sarah feed you. You were the worst baby ever. You cried too loudly and squeezed the bottle with your swollen gums. Then you'd throw the milk back and you used to get really messy. Your poop was the smelliest I could remember."

"Don't say that!" he replied, embarrassed "I see you do remember me."

"And Quill and Embry. Tell me, are they still the same old fools?"

"They haven't changed at all."

You laughed.

"Perfect."

"Ok, these are the last boxes" announced Charlie walking into the house carrying with him a small box with Cassie's toys. Billy came in behind with some boxes on his lap "I think now we can get everything organized and finishing in time for you to get some rest."

"I'll clean up the little girl's room" offered Jacob standing up "then I'll fill the closet and set up the bed so you can lay her down, you must be tired from carrying her around for so long. is that okay with you?" he asked you. You nodded

"Yes, thank you Jacob."

"You're welcome. Give me that" The boy took the boxes off his father's legs and picked up Charlie's, all with one arm and with the other he carried the folding base of the bed. You opened your eyes wide

"Easy, big guy, when did you get so strong?"

"I don't know. It just... showed up" he replied disappearing up the stairs

"It showed up" said Charlie "Ah, I hope shows up something like that to me"

"Don’t hold your breath as that happens" Billy joked.

"I should do something for lunch" you said trying to stand up. You were going to put Cassie down on one of the couches and put some cushions around her, but Charlie won't let you. Billy agreed

"None of that. We'll order something."

"But..."

"Nothing" interrupted Billy "We'll buy pizza"

"You guys really need to stop doing this" you reproached. Billy picked up his phone

"Ah, sorry, you had to say that earlier, I'm already on the call."

"You guys are unbelievable"

Charlie smiled

"We know. oh I'll get Bella, she hasn't said hello yet" Charlie walked out before you could say anything else and closed the door dismissing the moving truck. Billy smiled complicitly, placed the order, gave the address and left the cell phone on the kitchen bar

"Dinner is served."

"Thank you."

"They had children's menu, so I ordered it for Cassie. I hear their brownies are delicious. Maybe I'll steal it for myself."

"I'll keep it as a secret"

Billy nodded with a smile and as the food arrived you chatted animatedly about what had happened in your absence, he also told you things about your father and all the times they went fishing together before his death. You were enjoying Billy's stories when time began to pass and Charlie didn’t return with Bella as he promised. Jacob was finishing Cassie's room and when the pizza arrived he came downstairs immediately, asking about Charlie's whereabouts.

"He went to get Bella, but he hasn't come back yet."

"That's strange, his house is right next door."

"Maybe something came up for him at the station" Billy shrugged.

You decided to wait for the Swans to eat, but seeing that they didn't show up Jacob offered to investigate what was going on when suddenly the door opened and a very worried Charlie Swan walked in wiping the sweat from his brow

"Bella’s missing."

"What?"

Jacob suddenly became alert and Billy remained static in his place. You felt a knot in your stomach. While riding in the police cruiser that morning, you had heard something about tourist disappearances and wild creatures killing people in the woods and you feared Bella might be in that kind of danger. You were never close, but you knew her and occasionally went out together to talk or share a movie night. You still hadn't seen her after the years you were away and the least you wanted was for something bad to happen to her.

"Did you talk to any of her friends?"

"She was with them during classes, but they lost track of her on her way here. I'll call the Cullens, maybe..."

"You didn't know?" asked Billy "The Cullens left Forks, Charlie."

"Where did they go?"

"We'll find her" encouraged Jacob "But we have to go out and look for her before dark."

"I'll go with you" you said "I'll take Cassie to her room and..."

"No, no, stay" Charlie asked you "I left a note for Bella at home in case she comes back she’ll know that she has to come here and wait for me. If she does, call me right away, please" you nodded

"I'll call Harry and ask him to join along with the boys" Billy said and wheeled away down the hallway holding the phone to his ear. Charlie and Jacob left and you decided to take Cassie to the room, go down to the kitchen and make some coffee for the Brigadiers and Bella. If she was alone in the woods and the night was catching up with her then she was going to need something hot to get her strength back.

You hoped with all your heart that she was all right. For her, for Charlie.

Hours passed one after another with no sign of Bella. Your driveway was carpeted with people and police cruisers specially brought by Charlie to search for Bella. The entire town was scoured by officers from the early hours of the night, yet there was no trace of the chief's daughter. You decided to join the search taking the opportunity that Sue Clearwater was playing with Cassie - who was awakened by the ruckus of the patrol cars - asking if it was a good idea to search for her in the woods, but Harry refused.

"It's too dangerous, we don't know what might be among the trees. We can't risk losing any more people."

You were about to object his words when Jacob came up to you putting a hand on your shoulder telling you that he was right and that the forest was something not to be taken lightly. So you gave up, deciding to go back inside and refill the coffee pot when Jacob alerted Charlie that someone had found Bella.

A tall man walked in a straight line toward the Brigadiers where Billy and Harry watched him with restrained relief. He had a stocky frame and Bella unconscious in his arms seemed to weigh no more than a feather. His cropped black hair was messy and his lack of a shirt told you that the icy cold of the city didn't affect him at all

You knew him. His face was very familiar yet strange at the same time. You were back in Forks after a few years, but you knew that no one could change that much in that period of time.

Sam Uley was holding Bella and Charlie took her in his arms as he came out of the stupor and relief of having found his daughter. The Brigadiers sighed in unison and Billy thanked them all. You wanted to do something, to approach Charlie, to ask him if he needed help with Bella, but your eyes were caught in Sam’s.

They were dark, wild, like the forest behind him. You remembered him perfectly.

Before you left Forks you two were close friends and came to like each other as something more, but your leaving ended that and what you might have been up to that point.

You tried to look away, but then Sam's huge body began to shake, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground resting his hands on the dirt. Harry Clearwater reacted and approached him asking if he was okay.

"Tired" you heard him whisper causing you to shudder. Harry helped him up, whispered something in his ear and after taking one last look at you he disappeared into the woods. Harry walked back towards you.

"I thought the forest was dangerous"

"For us."

"What do you mean?"

Harry looked at you. Then he looked at his wife with Cassie in her arms standing at the doorway . He smiled.

"You'll find out soon, child"

580 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 3 years

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Collision - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,434

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at it’s first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 1/?

A/N: There’s no Cullen’s in the first chapter, we’ll see them soon though. Also, Esme is in the story but her and Carlisle are not together romantically. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

Going back home felt bizarre for (Y/N). It had been 4 years since she had moved away from the La Push Reservation on a scholarship to a prep boarding school in Seattle. Although students were expected to go back home during summer break, she spent her time in summer taking college classes or attending internships in the area, so going back didn’t fit into her plans.

But she had just graduated from high school and decided that taking a gap year could not hurt. Seeing her family wouldn’t be that bad either.

(Y/N) Uley had not reunited physically with Sam and Allison Uley since she left for school, only calling occasionally but always being to busy for anything else. The mother and son duo had grown accustomed to the short phone calls and vague emails they would receive from their studious family member. The Uley siblings used to be a very close pair, being only a year apart helped their bond. But since (Y/N) had invested all her energy into her high school career, their relationship rapidly dissipated; replaced by untold secrets and life-changing details.

The Uley girl had no idea what was in store when she went back home. She had left when she was 14 and was coming back an 18-year-old with a high school diploma and a bachelor’s degree. (Y/N) had always been an over achiever and applying to the school she had and taking dual enrollment was no surprise to her mother and brother.

The bus ride from Seattle to La Push lasted almost eight hours, so (Y/N) equipped herself with two books, plenty of snacks, and a fully charged iPod to handle the ride. She had gotten the earliest ride available always enjoying the intriguing mystery that 3 am travels brought. Her brown eyes surveyed the curious characters that voyaged alongside her a young woman sat with a sleeping baby in her arms, the dark circles under her eyes signaled the baby was still a newborn getting adapted to a sleep schedule; there was a middle-aged man, his eyes attached to a computer and a briefcase tight to his side; there were two teenagers, backpacks at their feet and shared headphones in between them. They were wearing light blue polo shirt and her school insignia embroidered on the left side of their shirt. She had seen them in passing, two freshmen still energetic and excited for their school life. She looked at them and smiled, remembering being in their shoes four years ago.

Four hours in, (Y/N) had finished one book, and the bus made its first stop in Port Angeles, the place where everyone that traveled with her got off. It wasn’t surprising to see from the top of her book as everyone got off, she didn’t recognize any of them from the reservation so it would have been surprising if any of them had stayed in the bus. For the next four hours, (Y/N) continued to read her second book surrounded by a comforting silence. The sun had risen about an hour ago and a nice warmth was streaming from the bus window and (Y/N) felt herself drift in bliss.

Her eyes fluttered open once again when she felt the bus finally rolling to a stop. She blinked a few times as she adjusted her vision to the bright midday sun and her brain restarted normal functions. The brunette gathered the bag with her travel companions and got up from the chair she had been glued to for eight hours.

“Have a good day,” the driver chimed as (Y/N) was walking down the bus.

“You too, drive safe!” The girl smiled and got her two suitcases out of the side of the bus.

(Y/N) got startled as she felt two arms wrap around her midriff and quickly swung her elbow back.

“Woah, woah, careful with those arms, (Y/N). It’s just me,” the girl turned around, a gleaming grin adorning her face.

“Sam!” She jumped onto the open arms of her older brother, seeing the years that had passed on his tired face.

“Look at you, darling. All grown up,” Allison Uley smiled, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Mom, I’ve missed you.” (Y/N) hugged her mother tightly, noticing the difference in heights of her and her mother. Another thing she noticed was the strain between her mother and her brother. Before she left, they all had a very close relationship but now it felt like so many things had interlaced into their bond. “Let’s go home yeah?”

“I’m, actually I gotta go to my house,” Sam scratched the back of his neck.

“What house?” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I moved out, but I’ll come over for your welcome dinner.”

“Sam, she just came back. Don’t you wanna spend time with your sister?” Allison begged, wanting to have both of her children under the same roof again.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, mom. Leave it.” Sam sighed. “I’ll see you at dinner, (Y/N).”

He kissed the top of his sister’s head and left. He wanted to tell them the whole truth, but he knew he couldn’t. Knowing that information would put them in a level of danger that he didn’t want them to be aware of.

(Y/N) stared at the retreating figure of his brother as he ran down the street, leaving her and their mother.

“What’s up with him?”

“Oh darling, if only I knew.” Allison sighed grabbing one of the suitcases her daughter had brought. “Let’s just head to the house so you can rest.”

“Yeah, let’s.” (Y/N) gave Allison a comforting smile and wheeled the second suitcase towards the truck.

The drive home was as short as she remembered, and the house hadn’t changed a bit. She walked up the steps to the porch and opened the old wooden door; it still made the same creaking sound. The house still smelled of seawater and pine, an odd mix but a comforting scent. (Y/N) regretted all the summers she missed here and all the days she spent away from her family.

She made her way up the stairs and entered the first door to the right. She ran her fingers through the stickers she had pasted on there when she was 13: a wolf, a rainbow, a heart, and a picture of her family. Her name still carved at the highest point of the door and she smiled at the memory of that. She sat atop Sam’s shoulder when she was just 12 years old, a trembling hand holding a pick as she carved as best as she could the name “(Y/N)”.

The doorknob as it was turned let out a squeaky groan and the door needed an extra push to open. The room had not changed at all. The walls were still painted a light green, the light switch still had the pink princess cover, the bedding had the little purple butterflies embroidered on them, and the pillows were all pink and purple. In a corner rested the five boxes (Y/N) had sent to the house from her dorm room.

“It hasn’t changed a bit,” (Y/N) commented as she felt her mother’s presence behind her.

“I didn’t want to change it until you came back,” Allison smiled. “But I’m sure you’d like to give this place a bit of a makeover.”

“Definitely,” she laughed. “I think I’ll go to Port Angeles this weekend, doing some shopping can’t hurt.”

“That’s true.” Allison side hugged her daughter as she laughed. She headed towards the door but stopped when she was called upon by her daughter.

“Hey, mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“By any chance, do you know where Sam’s living?” Allison’s body stiffened but shared the information with her daughter. Maybe she could figure out why he’d just disappeared.

(Y/N) was surprised to hear he was living with a girl she barely knew. She knew of Emily Young through Leah Clearwater, but not much after that. Last thing she had heard Leah and Sam had been dating. She certainly had missed some very important pivotal points in her brother’s life.

The house wasn’t far, so she decided to walk there. Upon arrival she could feel the warm and inviting aura that the quaint house emanated. The blue door called to her as she knocked on it. It finally opened and revealed her brother.

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my big brother. Is that such a crime?” She laughed.

“No, of course. Come in,” he smiled begrudgingly. “I don’t have much time so we gotta make this quick.”

“Wow, feeling the love there,” she chuckled passing through the doorframe.

“There’s just some things that I have to do before dinner tonight.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I just wanted to ask if you could help me on the weekend with my room. I’m bringing it four years into the present, gotta make sure it looks like an 18-year-old sleeps there.”

“Yeah, I’ll come over Sunday afternoon and help you then. Anything else you need?”

“Well, not exactly, but it wouldn’t help to catch up. You know make up for four years of chit chat conversations and get me up to date with at the happenings in your life.”

“There’s not much to say other than I moved out and I’m engaged.” He said nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?! You’re engaged and failed to mention that to me?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, (Y/N).”

“Yes, it is, Sam! You’re getting married and this is the first I’m ever hearing of this or the fact that you moved out or the fact that you’re engaged to your ex-girlfriend’s cousin. I think it is a big deal.”

“Okay, yeah. Kind of a long story on that one.”

“Enough time to tell it to me?” Sam hesitated. He could hear Emily’s truck approaching and two male voices coming back from patrol. He needed to get (Y/N) out of the house before they got here.

“Maybe another time. I’ll call you on Sunday, yeah?” Sam asked as he nudged his sister out of his house.

“I guess.” (Y/N) mumbled as she was pushed out the front door. “Bye.”

“See ya.” Sam kissed the side of her head and closed the door.

(Y/N) left the house with more questions about her brother that she had begun with but didn’t want to press on. There was no use if he wasn’t going to talk, so she walked back home.

Her mother had gone out, possibly grocery shopping for tonight’s dinner, giving (Y/N) time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. She walked up the stairs and into her room, plopping down on the bed not caring how she landed. All she wanted was to close her eyes and rest.

By six in the afternoon her eyes fluttered open once again. She could smell the dinner her mother had been cooking. The room had darkened as the sun was going down and thankfully her mother had turned on a lamp for (Y/N) to have some vision. The girl got up from bed and grabbed some clothes from her suitcase to take a quick shower before dinner. She stripped all her clothes off and let the water wash away all the hours of the day. As soon as the water started turning cold, she shut it off and got out.

For a second, (Y/N) stopped and stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. She barely recognized the girl staring back. The bags under her eyes were deeper than the last time she had seen herself in this specific mirror, her cheekbones were more defined than before, her skin paler than usual since she hadn’t really seen the sun in a while.

It didn’t take her long to change into some new clothes and head downstairs, where she saw her mother on the phone. Disappointment evident in her eyes.

“Sam, it’s your sister… please… ok, fine. Just don’t flake on her on Sunday,” Allison sighed, turning off her phone and slamming it on the counter.

“Everything okay, mom?”

“Oh, yeah, darling. Your brother won’t be able to join us, but Billy and Jacob, and the Clearwaters are on their way, and I also invited Charlie and Bella Swan. I hope you don’t mind that they join in.”

“No, I don’t mind. What about Paul?”

“You know I’ve never liked that boy, honey.” (Y/N) stared at her mother. Refusing to continue the conversation until Allison answered the question. “I did invite him, but he couldn’t come.”

“I love seeing you make an effort,” (Y/N) laughed and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll set the table.”

“Thank you, darling.”

(Y/N) grabbed the 10 plates needed for the night and the respective cutlery. She still remembered how her mother liked the table arranged and set it as such. She set the vase filled with fresh flowers in the middle of the table, leaving space on the sides for the dinner platters. The arrival of the guests was soon after. (Y/N) had grown alongside Jacob and Leah, and on the summers, she would spend her times with the Swan girl. Once Seth was born, he became very close with the Uley girl.

“My oh my, (Y/N), how you’ve grown.” Billy Black grabbed Uley’s hand and smiled up at her, with the warmness that summer brought.

��Indeed, I have, and you haven’t aged a day in four years. What’s your secret?”

“It’s in the genes,” he laughed alongside the young girl. She’d always been a charmer, he thought “You remember my boy, Jacob, right?”

“How could I ever forget? Hey, Jake!”

“How you’ve been, (Y/N)?” Jacob approached his friend and wrapped her in a hug. “Been an awful long time.”

“Four years, that’s not much,” she smiled. “Come in.”

The father and son duo entered the house, and next came the Clearwaters. Harry, Sue, and Seth. No Leah. They had always been close to the Uleys, a bit of divide coming after the rupture between the eldest offspring of each family.

“Oh, wow, where has the time gone?” Sue commented, greeting the girl with a tight hug.

“4 years really do go by quick, don’t they?”

“They sure do, Harry.” (Y/N) smiled, motioning the couple in.

Finally, Seth walked in and engulfed (Y/N) in a tight hug. The girl was 5 years his elder, but he considered her one of his best friends. Seth and Paul were the only two people (Y/N) kept in close contact other than her family. For some time, Paul and (Y/N) had drifted apart but Seth always sent his monthly excited letters, updating her on what he had been up to.

“I missed you, (Y/N)!” Little Seth spoke into a bundle of brunette hair.

“I missed you too, Seth.” She smiled as he walked past her, joining his parents.

The last to enter were Sheriff Swan and Bella. The cop smiled at the girl and gave her a quick hug, commenting on how much she had grown, a low chuckle leaving his throat. Bella entered with hunched shoulders, possibly not wanting to be there but she still smiled at her old friend. Vague memories filled the girls’ heads of summer play dates and days at the beach.

“It’s been quite some time, huh?” Bella muttered.

“It sure has. It’s great to see you again,” (Y/N) smiled. “How have you liked Forks now that you’re back full time. Still hating cold weather?”

“Yeah,” the pale girl chuckled. “But it has its better days.”

The girls joined in a quick giggled before joining the rest of the group at the dinner table. Allison had already set the table and had said her hellos to the group.

The three males had engaged in sports conversations and the teens were all huddled in the kitchen munching on cheese and crackers and engaging in small chit chat.

“So, (Y/N), 18 and already a degree, how does that feel?” Jacob asked, stuffing his mouth with cheese and ham.

“Well, as good as it can be. Don’t know exactly what I’m gonna do now. All I know is that I’m taking a year off and taking a breather for the first time.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“I just can’t believe you’d spend all this time going to school, twice as much. I don’t like school at all,” Seth chimed in, picking apart the cheese and filling his mouth.

“So, you spent these past four years studying, including your summers?” Bella added.

“That’s correct,” (Y/N) smiled. “And now I have a degree and nothing to do with it.”

The group chuckled and moved towards the adults as they were being called to dinner. In the center of the table was a big platter of spaghetti and meatballs, (Y/N)’s favorite food, a tray of toasted garlic bread, and a bowl of a colorful mix of spring salad.

(Y/N) always enjoyed her mother’s cooking. Even on her saddest days, Allison’s cooking could warm her heart at any time. She and her mother had a very close relationship, even after four years of distance. Since her father left early in her life, her mother had always tried her hardest to make sure both her children were loved and cared for. And she stayed wondering where she had gone wrong with Sam and hoping (Y/N) didn’t stray away as her eldest had.

The dinner group had all taken their seats at the dinner table and were passing around the various platters, serving themselves their desired portions. Jacob and Seth were overfilling their plates, receiving a laugh from their respective parents. Charlie, Harry, and Billy were filling their plates with more protein than carbohydrates and the moms at the table smiled at the males engulfing the meatballs. (Y/N) looked around the table and smiled. It had been a long time since she had sat down with the important people in her life and was relaxed, even if two of them were missing.

After everyone was served, everything went almost quiet. Some background music could be heard from the living room and the sound of forks hitting plates and mouths chewing filled the environment. Everyone was comfortable with the silence, but there was still one question in everyone’s mind.

“Where’s Sam?” Seth spoke up, voicing everyone’s question. The whole table paused in action and Seth felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Sue softly elbowed her son. “What?”

“It’s okay, Sue,” (Y/N) smiled. “He couldn’t be here, bud.”

“Maybe he was feeling bad, like Leah.” He added earning a burning stare from both his parents.

“Maybe, Seth.”

“I just wanna apologize for our daughter missing this dinner. I know she really wanted to see you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Harry, it’s really no problem. I’m sure I’ll catch up with her soon enough.” (Y/N) smiled trying to ease the tension felt in the room. She could see her mother gripping her fork tightly as she kept her head down. “But I would also like to apologize on behalf of Sam, I know he wanted to be here.”

Everyone simply nodded and went back to their plates. The rest of the evening was enjoyable. No one mentioned the pair that was missing, and (Y/N)’s past four years were questioned in depth. She had an answer for everything except “What are you gonna do now?”

She didn’t know and that’s what she answered. She mentioned she wanted to study medicine, having finished a degree in biology and always loved taking care of other people. Sue was excited, being a nurse herself. But (Y/N) had landed at a standstill in terms of her life and career. A vast portion of her life had been defined as a student and now that this part was over, she didn’t know who she was.

The dinner festivities were over soon thereafter, leaving Allison and (Y/N) to clean up after the group. The Uley pair put everything away in silence, exhausted from the eventful day. (Y/N) could see as her mother wiped away a few stray tears, sniffling behind her hair. The girl knew better than to bring the topic back up and left her mother with a kiss on the temple and a good night.

Upstairs, (Y/N) prepared herself for bed. The event had drained nay energy still left in her and she plopped down on the bed with a small thud. She had prepared her clothes for the next day, knowing her energy would also be drained but still excited to have this change. Her eyes fluttered close as she heard in the distance her mother’s quiet footsteps on the staircase, darkness overtaking her.

Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

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gingeraleluke · 3 years

Text

𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: tom holland x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: your boyfriend got home just in time to watch his most recent interview on tv with you.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, nothing just fluff! :)

𝗔/𝗡: this is my first time writing for tom so i hope you guys like it!! <3

this is based on the spider-man: far from home interview with jimmy kimmel!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

the young girls heart was silent for the first nineteen years of her life. nothing but a faint heartbeat and some clouded thoughts of little to nothing inconsistencies. from the moment she first opened her eyes as a baby, separating her fingers and spreading her toes while her newly polished eyes tried making sense of her surroundings, to the ripe summer when her mother insisted she become a camp counselor to succumb enough money to buy her very own long-overdue car. the girl felt nothing.

the teens she longed to be alike were a mere hourglass, y/n a shadow. portraying their success and growth without mirroring any of her own, she felt like a weak duckling surrounded by marvelous swans. she would spend her youth watching blondes fall for brunettes on television, plopping popcorn into her mouth while pressing rewind on her favorite romantics, watching the way they would look at eachother and move with one another. she never thought she could be able to experience that. everything inside her was too quiet, too plain.

and then she met tom. it became loud, too loud, and she loved it. everything she thought she could never achieve, she achieved with him. her colorless days no longer existed and she fell deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.

switching the tv from some medical soap opera, y/n sat on her couch. she wore nothing but a plain bra and a pair of baby blue satin shorts. normally, she’d cover up more, especially if she had company over, but tom was a different kind of company and a comfortable one at that.

“THOMAS HURRY UP!” she could hear her boyfriend yell a faint, “i’m coming,” through the noise of the water running. shortly after, the shower stopped as y/n scrolled mindlessly through her phone, impatient.

she expected to see her boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, a trail of steam behind him, but instead she heard the loud roar of a hairdryer.

“for fucks sake-“ her mouth was lacking the salty and buttery flavor she craved so she took the opportunity to use her time by putting some popcorn in the microwave while her boyfriend blowed out his hair.

as she watched the minutes on the timer go down, the machine dinged as she grabbed a bowl and poured the snack inside it. she made her way back to the bench sofa and extended her legs out on the grey island cushions. the lace on the trim of her shorts tickled her feet as she folded her legs. “TOM HURRY THE FUCK UP, ITS ALMOST STARTING!”

the girls mouth was full as she yelled, losing patience with the boy. “IM SORRY, IM COMING!”

minutes later, a shirtless tom holland, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, appeared in their shared living room. the girls eyes grew big, his doing the same as he took in her taboo and exposed form.

“what- tom! you haven’t even gotten dressed yet?!”

“well, neither have you, apparently! plus, this is pretty comfortable, is it not?”

“tom-“ she warned.

“i got it, i got it..” his bare feet slapped against the hardwood floors as he quickly ran into their bedroom and retrieved his clothes. he came back out wearing a black t shirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants.

“KIMMEL IS STARTING!” she pointed at the tv and looked over to see tom bounce down onto the couch next to her, sprawling his legs out like she had done earlier.

“baby, that’s just the intro, i’m not there yet.” she peered over at him.

“who said i’m watching this for you?” he turned his head and made a sarcastic face.

“yeah, sure..” he mocked.

“WAIT, i need my blanket! go, get it, i don’t want to miss this!”

“y/n, it hasn’t even started yet-“

“now tom!”

“but what if i miss it!”

“you were there, you already know what happens-“ you lightly shoved his clothed knee and he sprung to his feet, so fast that tessa jolted up and ran after him.

“tessa! calm down!” the dog didn’t listen and continued following her dad, panting the whole way back.

once they were settled, jimmy announced his upcoming guests before a quick commercial break.

“quick, my ass..” she muttered.

tom stifled a chuckle. “why are you so bent up about this? you’ve seen my interviews before!”

“yeah, but i’ve never been able to actually watch one with you! it’s like… an entirely different experience!”

he didn’t believe her. “are you sure that’s the real reason? or is it because you just want me to give you secret info on the film, because love, you know i can’t do that, not after last time.”

she placed a hand on her chest playfully, “tom! i would never, how could you think of me like that?! as if i would ever do such a thing!”

“mmhmm..”

the commercials came to an end and y/n looked up to see jimmy start announcing the cast.

“shit, oh my god, it’s happening.”

“shhh, calm down!” tom laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, his other arm sprawled out behind the frame of the sofa.

“how can i keep calm!? my fucking BOYFRIEND is about to be on tv! you know how many people can say that they are dating spider-man? like, no one!” her knee was bouncing and she couldn’t contain the excitement. watching someone on television while sitting in the same room with them was a rush she had never felt before.

she was loud as hell inside.

“please welcome, tom hol-“

“WHOOOOO, YEAH!!” she started clapping dramatically and stood up for a quick second, her eyes glued to the tv as she watched her boyfriend appear, while her actual boyfriend sat there laughing at her excitement.

they did a stupid elevator bit, before him and everyone else walked up to their chairs.

“really, tom?” his dark eyes flickered to hers. “what?! i thought you would like it, it’s funny!” she rolled her eyes and smiled, thinking to herself: my boyfriend is a dork, even on national television.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“oh my god, you all look so good.”

“i know, right?”

“look at jake!”

“yeah-“

“look at zendaya!”

“i know-“

“OH MY GOD LOOK A-“

“OKAY Y/N, i get it, everyone but me is attractive, thanks. you’ve made it pretty clear.” he frowned as you gushed over how good his coworkers looked.

“yes, tom! i think you look awful, that’s why i’ve been dating you for the past four years, because i think you are ugly.”

he looked at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his eyes.

“oh, come on, i’m joking! you’re beautiful, come here.” she grabbed the side of his head and pulled him over so his head was laying on her chest. she began to play with his hair while watching.

“so the trailer came out, the trailer got like 135 million views within the first hour-“

“yeah it did!” she exclaimed, her fingers busy in his hair.

“see, i didn’t know that then.” he muttered, his brows furrowing together as tessa looked up at him from y/n’s lap.

“well it’s no secret, i’m not very good at instagram.”

y/n bursted out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but all of her emotions where heightened in this moment.

“oh god, i know where this is going.. this is the zendaya story isn’t it?” you smirk down at him and he lifts his head to nod at you.

“i knew it..”

“i basically.. forgot to post the trailer.”

“that’s bad.”

“yes jimmy, yes it is.” she couldn’t contain the snickers leaving her mouth and tom protested against it.

“listen, it’s difficult for some people, okay!”

“mmhmm, whatever you say baby.” she remembers distinctly, waking up and asking her boyfriend why he never posted the trailer, which caused him to wind up into a frenzy and immediately contact zendaya for assistance.

“well, you wouldn’t tell me how to!”

“tom, you’re a grown man! you should be able to figure that out yourself, peter parker.” she leaned over and kissed his cheek, his arm wrapped around her.

“so you’re IT for the team?”

“yeah, y/n, making poor zendaya the it for the team-“

“oh, shush, it was funny as fuck. but not as funny as the time you spoi-“

he placed his finger on her lips to quiet her, “oh, stop it!” she giggled in response.

she watched as zendaya recalled the moment she had to screen record how to delete an instagram story for him, which was another thing y/n refused to help him with. sure, she loves him and all, but watching the panic on his face as he realizes that he messed up, always cracked her up. especially since he brags about how ‘tech savvy’ he is for his age.

“it’s not my fault you’re a grampa!”

“yeah, we’ll, you’re dating a grampa!”

“true, i am.”

her hands reached towards her blanket as she put her popcorn bowl down and laid the covering over her and her boyfriend. the grey weighted blanket matching the couch perfectly.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“okay, wait…why are you guys still in highschool?!” y/n had paused the program to engage in a very serious and heated discussion about the aftermath of endgame which led up to the beginning of his new movie, far from home, which had yet to come out.

“i mean.. it’s five years! i’m so confused.” tom sighed, placing his hands on his knees, he sat up straight. “like i said in the interview, y/n, i don’t know.”

“well… ask the russo brothers! i mean, jacob is right, that’s a huge plothole!”

toms eyes sparkled as he looked at his lover trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“i… i don’t even know what to say right now. my whole life is a lie!”

“okay, let’s not get too dramatic here-“

“NO, tom! as an avengers fanatic, i need to know!” she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, his body jolting forwards.

“tell me!” she shook him as he laughed and tessa barked.

“i don’t know, baby!” she frowned slightly and looked at her boyfriends amused face.

“i’m dating spider-man, you’d think i’d get the inside scoop.” she rolled her eyes and placed her legs back up on the cushions. tom leaned over and looked her up and down, flickering from her bare chest and her eyes. he leaned into her neck and started planting kisses. “i’m sorry, i will be sure to ask someone at marvel for you.” she smiled sweetly before thanking him.

“has everyone seen avengers: endgame?”

the girl rose to her feet, the blanket stuck to her bare legs. “yes, jimmy, i have! i saw my boyfriend get dusted right before my fucking eyes!”

tom remembered the first time he watched the film with her. it was hard for him to keep it under wraps and while he did end up telling her some spoilers, he kept out the whole ‘death by thanos’ part.

“okay, calm down little one.” he reached his arm out to pull her down, back to the couch.

“tom, baby, i know you like.. could get in trouble for it but-“

“y/n… not this conversation again.” he put his hand up to his forehead, two fingers on the bridge of his nose. she knew that if she prodded and poked in all the right spots, that her boyfriend would give in. that it just took a little push for him to confess all the dirty details of his new blockbuster.

“come on! i am begging, tom- i have so many questions, can you blame me? i mean… mysterio, like.. what’s that guy all about?! he’s a villian right?”

“well…”

“a hero?”

“definitely not.”

“antihero?”

“not exactly-“

“UGH, tom! you are killing me here.” she whined, putting her hands on his chest as the paused tv shined upon his features. “please give me something… anything.” she trailed her fingers down his chest, tauntingly.

“anything?” he smirked at her.

“yup. like… maybe just exactly what jakes character is? i mean, i remember him telling us at dinner that time, but that was barely enough, i mean.. there’s gotta be more right?”

“go on.”

“and mj, i mean.. is peter finally going to ask her out? baby, so many questions, i just have so many.”

“well… i guess i could tell you one thing..” he tempted her. her lips twitched upwards as she pressed her forehead against his.

“mmhmm?”

“i could tell you that… the ending of the movie?”

“yeah..”

“is fucking fantastic. really, it’s brilliant babes.”

“because?”

“you will just have to see-“ he was cut off by his girlfriend hitting him in the face with a pillow.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE TOM-“

“quiet down! you are going to get tessa all going..”

“sorry…”

a moment of silence passed as tom squealed, “for fucks sake tom!” in his best high pitched, y/n impression possible.

“shut up!”

the two laughed before she clicked play.

“you look so good here, tom. it’s so weird like- i’m sitting next to you-“ she pointed at tom, “but, there you are on tv!”

“you are just realizing this?”

“well, it’s like inception!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i was told, it was a wedding!”

her chest boiled with anger as she quickly hit pause. “NO BECAUSE, fuck you for that! i remember being all excited, thinking tony and pepper were gonna have a beautiful wedding, only to see hes fucking DEAD.”

tom couldn’t hold in his laughs. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know!”

“well it’s pretty obvious, tom! everyone’s sad and in black, baby, you really are an airhead.”

“hey-“ she cut him off with a kiss to his lips.

the two cuddled up while watching the interview, small laughs leaving their bodies.

“like, zendaya! when did you find out how endgame ended?”

“oh, i remember. me, jacob, and zendaya were all in a facetime call freaking the fuck out, while my boyfriend over here, was chilling like nothing was wrong.”

“you guys were in a facetime call?” he questioned.

“yes! i was heartbroken and i had gotten a call from z who was clearly also upset!”

“well, he’s fine clearly! i mean, i wouldn’t be in far from home if peter was dead, right?”

she looked up at him, his heartbeat still lingering on her skin. “so you can tell me that you are still alive, but you can’t tell me about jake gyllenhaals character?”

“well, it’s a given! obviously peter is alive!”

y/n groaned, her head now resting on his chest.

“dating a superhero is difficult.”

“aww, poor darling, i’m sure it is.” he peppered kisses along her forehead.

“hey! you ate all of the popcorn?!” tom was flabbergasted, his voice heightening a few octaves.

“yep, and what about it?” her tone dripping in sass.

“i wanted some, for one!”

“too bad, maybe if you would spill the deets on far from home, you’d get some of my popcorn. hell, tom, if you confess right now, i’ll make you a whole bowl!”

“no.”

“well it was worth a try!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i can’t believe it’s over.” the house was completely silent, the only thing audible being tessa’s light snores.

“i’m gonna miss that guy..”

“baby, i’m right here.” he placed his hand at the small of her back, looking at her lovingly.

“i’m talking about mysterio.”

“oh, yeah, great!” she giggled at his response. “he’s just so hot, tom! way hotter than peter-“

“yeah, maybe if you think manipulation is hot!”

her mouth fell agape at his words.

“what?” he said, oblivious to the screw up he just made. she smiled widely at him as he slowly was hit with realization.

“oh, fucking damn it!”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff

312 notes · View notes

everysongineverykey · 3 years

Text

I'M DONE. HERE. TAKE THESE CHAPTER 2 THOUGHTS AND RUN, BABY.

so i'll try to go in order here. uhhhh... there's a LOT i have to say. first: toriel giggling sprite my beloved

on that note, ALL THE NEW SUSIE SPRITES MY BELOVEDS

NOELLE YOU'RE SO GAY. I THINK THIS IS PROBABLY JUST BECAUSE I TOLD HER TO IN CHAPTER ONE BUT SHE GAVE SUSIE THE LUNCHBOX FULL OF CHALK!! I LOVE ITTTT

ralsei's, uh... kinda sus. the whole "recruiting" thing REALLY sketches me out. and he looks kinda... smug, all the time, like he knows what's going on.

LANCER JOINED! ROUXLS JOINED EVEN THOUGH NO ONE WANTED THAT! STARWALKER JOINED, TO EVERYONE'S JOY!

LIBRARY PORTALLLL

so before i entered the city there was that pre-city area? that looked very much like the city? except it had different music? and i thought they'd cut welcome to the city and i was SEVERELY disappointed. but then they didn't! just something i wanted to mention

NOELLE!!

throughout this game i went from despising berdly to feeling bad for him to not really liking him again, but not hating him as much as before. he'd better stay the fuck away from susie though

the queen is the best villain. she's the kind you love to hate! she's literally so funny AND her boss battle is actually tough (rip to the king but he just. wasn't a formidable enemy at all lol)

THE GANG CHARLIE BROWN DANCING TO WIN A FIGHT! SUSIE GAINING THE POWER TO ACT THROUGH SHEER FORCE OF WILL! SUSIE FORCING RALSEI TO LEARN TO ACT EVEN THOUGH HE DIDN'T WANT TO! THAT ENTIRE BATTLE WAS AMAZING! THE "BATTLE WON" END DANCING SEQUENCE! GOING INSANE GOING INSANE

the puzzles in this chapter were genuinely really impressive! i especially loved the word search puzzles and the ice-ee undertale word search reference💙

that being said. the mouse puzzles were SO fucking infuriating. i caused poor noelle a LOT of grief with those and i feel bad.

SPEAKING OF NOELLE!! the scene where she and kris are walking through the puzzle, the one that spells "december", and she's talking about when they were kids, how she loved sneaking out? beautiful. the cinnamon tography <3 also i guessed dess's full name was december a while ago and while i guess it was obvious, it's nice to have that confirmed!

also, i love that susie and ralsei are real friends in this chapter! he taught her a healing spell!!

ugh. fucking berdly. so smug and pretentious. i love queen's desire to be as far away from him as possible though

i also like his backstory. it gives his behavior, even if it's still annoying, at least some context. i get the feeling of feeling like if you're not smart, people will forget about you, and that's scary.

ALSO ALSO. GAMER BERDLY. LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT IS PERFECT. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GAMER!" "i only play mobile games, berdly." "NOOOOOO!" like i ADORE that

anyways. time for me to talk about the only thing that matters in this world: suselle. i mean, did the gays win in this chapter or DID THE GAYS WIN IN THIS CHAPTER?? THEY RODE A HEART-COVERED FERRIS WHEEL AND HAD A HEARTFELT, TENSION-FILLED CONVERSATION!

"did you ever wonder why the real susie never picked on you? well, maybe it's because... when you were both new to class, you lent her one of your pencils, like... maybe a dumb one with candy canes on it or something, and... even though it didn't actually taste like candy, she... remembered your smile." okay god thanks toby it's not like i needed my heart or anything

SERIOUSLY. TOBY "i'm gonna give the gays everything they want" FOX IS BACK WITH ANOTHER BANGER LADS

QUEEN'S BOSS BATTLE! ACTUALLY TOUGH, UNLIKE KING'S! AND GIGA QUEEN! I'M GOING INSANE THAT WAS SO SICK AND SO HARD

the way my heart BROKE when lancer turned to stone good god thank GOD our boy's okay

AND ROUXLS KAARD IN HIS PIRATE DUCK!! WITH HIS LITTLE HAT! DEMANDING THE QUEEN MAKE HIM BUTLER SUPREMETH! I LOVE HIM MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF

also!! kris and ralsei's little moment on the swan boat💙 i wasn't a kralsei shipper before but uh... that may be starting to change

it's hard because ralsei's still suspicious but at the same time i love him and want him to be happy. i don't know how to feel

also, if darkners outside of their dark worlds turn to stone after a while, why didn't ralsei? that's, uhhh... VERY sus. very weird. mr fox i need ANSWERS

WE FINALLY HAVE A WAY TO SAVE AFTER WE'VE FINISHED MOST OF THE EPILOGUE LADS. REJOICE!!

seriously the thing that peeved me about ch1 was that the last save point was on the battle stage and if i wanted to play the epilogue again, i had to. do that entire battle all over. BUT NOW THAT'S BEEN FIXED!!

UNDYNE AND ALPHYS HAVE MET UNDYNE AND ALPHYS HAVE MET THIS IS NOT A DRILL UNDYNE GAVE HER A BOX OF CANDIES EVERYBODY SHUT UP THEY'RE IN LOVE ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD

ALSO! NEAR THE BEGINNING! I FORGOT TO MENTION THE LITTLE WHITE DOG DOING DONUTS IN A TOY RACE CAR AND BACKING UP TRAFFIC! THANK YOU LITTLE WHITE DOG!

on that note: "looks like a car. this one has a man in it. he waves at you happily." AND THEN THE MAN'S GONE??? HEY TOBY???

ALSO. THE SEGMENT WHERE THE ANNOYING DOG HELPS US FIND THE KEY THROUGH THE POWER OF WANTON DESTRUCTION. THE BEST PLOT DEVICE!

TORIEL TEACHING SUSIE TO MAKE PIE STOP ITTTTT

and yes yes i KNOW kris slashed toriel's tires. that was extremely troubling. but THEY MADE PIE TOGETHER!!

"leave the chalk alone, kris" TORIEL!!

sans and toriel making egg puns and asgore running in and going "don't forget me, your eggs-husband!" is the FUNNIEST sitcom moment type thing ever. GOD.

on the other hand sans let me meet your brother god dammit i'll kill you

METTATONNNNNNN

RUDY... "who got you these flowers?" "is it weird for a married man to get flowers?" "so your wife did?" "oh, no! kris's dad did!" "...not even gonna try to understand this..." TOBY STOP ITTTT YOU'RE GIVING THE ASGORUDY SHIPPERS FALSE HOPE. YOU KNOW YOU'RE JUST GONNA KILL RUDY. YOU'RE JUST RUBBING SALT IN THE WOUND!

NUBERT! MY MAN!

seeing kris repeatedly they-themmed by multiple characters makes me so happy <3 poor kid... "college summer vacation when" "you opened the door with your eyes closed. you saw nothing" kris....

KRIS...

fucking. BLACK FOG STORM IN THE LIVING ROOM KRIS STOP IT. HOW'RE THEY GONNA REVEAL THIS WAS INNOCENT? THE KNIFE IN CHAPTER ONE WAS EASY BUT HOW WILL THEY EXPLAIN THIS

the staticy tv appearing in the dark and a toothy smile slowly fading into view in the center and lingering there ominously for far too long >>>>>>> every hollywood horror movie ever god. GOD

snowy and monster kid checking out the red door. implying there's something in there. something that kris knows about. knowing we won't get any more deltarune content for 5+ years does NOT fill me with determination

also. gaster's symbolic theme being mus_smile. and the final image in the game being a smile. god. gaster's COMING lads.

onionsan hears a song at night... a familiar song... memory, perhaps? or maybe a certain... four-note arpeggio that's hidden in a sound test room in undertale? who knows? guess we'll just have to wait for chapters 3/4/5.

this concludes my ramblings for now, but don't get it twisted- this is FAR from the last post i'll make about ch2. this whole chapter was absolutely amazing! brilliant! showstopping!! i'm genuinely soooo super impressed and excited for the chapter 3/4/5 bundle!!!

#deltarune spoilers #dr spoilers #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune chapter 2 spoilers #dr chapter 2 spoilers #trying to get as many spoiler tags as possible!

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ginwhitlock · 3 years

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summary: JASPER/ BELLA. Isabella Marie Swan does not believe in monsters. Only angels

.i.e. the four times Jasper visits Bella as she grows up, before the Cullens every set a foot back down in Forks

fic type: oneshot, no explicit scenes

warnings: implied minor sexual abuse (not detailed or described. blink and you miss it). renee bashing.

Isabella Marie Swan doesn’t believe in monsters.

Forks, Washington is freezing in November. The wind was a frozen backhand to the ripening cheek of a four year-old girl dressed only in woolen tights and a polyester puffy coat. There had to have been a tulle skirt or a pair of cotton shorts at one point, but between the missed calls pinging back to the landline and the steam rising off her father’s newly appointed khaki vest, the poor things had been discarded. She had a sticky strand of dirty brown hair by the cut of her lip glossed mouth, a candy necklace filling the gap where her front teeth should’ve been.

She had never been happier.

Daddy hadn’t been twisted into Charlie yet, the sway of his uncut hair was loose and playful in front of his eyes, the buzzed sides creating an unfortunate mullet just behind his ears. There was a bounce to his unsure step. He smiled like he was dying, all teeth and tongue. He smelled like peppermint. Gun oil. Cotton candy. A short mule of a woman left him warm potato casseroles for him at the station every Thursday night to share with Isabella without refusal. His mustache was just barely growing in. Her grubby little hands tugged at any chance she could. When her mother let her.

Renee hadn’t picked up the phone since last Wednesday, or maybe the week before that or maybe, he hadn’t even tried to dial her number before the ring went silent in his dogged ear. Maybe he threw the receiver hard enough against the ugly green linoleum so it could never make noise again. Maybe he was done begging.

But, that wouldn’t have been good for his-- their baby. So of course, all Deputy Charlie Swan did was shoot off his last salt rounds into the sunken forest behind the home that used to be his father’s. Felt the cool metal of a sawed off in his left hand. Muffled Isabella’s ears with plastic sponges. Pretended it was a game between the two of them, how many trees can daddy hit before the snow fills up your yellow rain boots. How many times can the mother of your child pretend she isn’t a mother at all.

She was supposed to be coloring at the dining room table. He had laid out the crayons in rainbow order like she wanted, uncapped the markers Lucy from the diner had given her last summer, and smoothed out the dryer-hot printer paper right in front of her chair. She has already stopped babbling at this age, a progression he had clenched his front teeth at when Renee told him, smiling at their now silent daughter.

The table should be creaking, at least. Right?

Snow in the north was glistening and beautiful. It looked almost wet, the ice refracting with smiling crystals. The hemlock branches were bending and breaking, reaching down with thin hands, beaconing the toddler forward. Isabella loved to climb.

And fall.

She was better at falling.

Foot after rubber foot scaled the beast of fauna, water dripping into her ill-fitted coat from the wrists down. It trailed in glossy clear rivets. Highway dividers. Geese flying down for the winter. Freezing.

From a sky view the sparrows watched the small girl, her rudolph cheeks bursting with new blood, the heat of her skinny body leaching from her bones. She was slowing down with each thin branch, each prick of a wayward needle. Sticky golden sap collecting on the webs of her knuckles. It smelled like grapefruit. She smelled like grapefruit. Ripe and delicious. Full of wonder. And terrified.

The height was farther from the ground than she had thought in her haste to see the sky, a good six feet between her and the snow lining the forest floor. She couldn’t make out the faint wisp of ocean that settled low on the ground as she had when she first snuck out to gather snowflakes. There was nothing but green and white and awfully sticky sweet gunk stuck to her clothes and skin.

Isabella gritted her teeth to scream for the furious help of her father when a hand poked the sole of her slipping boot. She just barely stomached looking down.

“Do you need help, little miss?” All that he let her see was a brilliantly white half smile, pitted skin, long lean fingers, ivory nail beds. Fur covered everything else.

A headful of pin-straight chestnut nodded without hesitation, her fear for the wrath of a kind man stronger than whatever awaited her in the hidden man’s hands.

She jumps.

Charlie has a shotgun strapped underneath his armpit when he finds her, fast asleep, head tucked into the stripped trunk of a pine tree. A fur coat wrapped around her tiny form like a blanket. He prays to God for the first time in a decade when she wakes in front of their tiny white oven, preheated to warm the room, talking of a golden haired angel with the saddest skin.

Izzy Marie Swan does not have time to believe in monsters.

The not-so-much-girl-anymore marched through the foyer on a mission that August morning, her first Bronte soft spine clasped between forefinger and thumb, dry toast between dryer lips. Her t-shirt doesn’t fill out like the other girls swear theirs do and her jeans slide off her nonexistent hips like they’re mocking her. At ten years old she looks exactly like Charlie Swan did at that age, boy scout skin without a switchblade to her name, crooked teeth and straight-out tongue held silent. She is too skinny and too tall and exactly what her mother picks on when she opens her teenage girl magazines. Her eyes are shit brown, a word she just learned, and to everyone else around her, she is adorable. Beautiful the way a child should be, without pretense or cause. A songbird held in an oak cage. Her father’s most precious gift.

She can’t remember where she left her backpack.

Like she does. Every morning. Just after breakfast. Two thirty minute kitchen timers before she has to get on the bus to the underrun and underfunded Forks Elementary. She even wrote an essay about it once. On forgetfulness.

She forgot to turn it in, just as she wrote. In that essay.

Her father had put in a cement bench just beyond the grove of trees that stood as their fence line, that march or the last, whichever seemed less dreary to her wayward mother. The same woman who stood toe deep in floridan sand at that moment, unaware and unknowing of her daughter’s want to attend public school anywhere warmer, maybe somewhere, like Florida. If her mother agreed, anyway. But she didn’t. Or at least, never asked to.

The bag was a horrible shade of amber. Red and gold. Orange and green. Mud leftover from a gasoline spill, with a dash of waterproof nutmeg. It had buckles as tough as airplane parachutes. It could withstand a windstorm. Or Washington rain. Not that she tested that… every night. Just last night.

And every night in the last week.

Out it stood, like a stranded lamb, loyal and bleeting underneath the damned bench, waiting patiently for the pale girl to take a seat and rifle through it, looking for something and nothing. Her hair was twisted into a ponytail, unbrushed and bushy. It too, loyal to the sweat collecting on her neck, kissing just underneath her soft blue t-shirt. Her shoes caked in mud, stomping just loud enough to scare the rabbits away as she slouched the sacred material against her denim lap.

She decided to be Izzy Swan out here one afternoon after the heat started. A reinvention of sorts. A rat-faced nuisance of a boy had refused to call her by her full moniker on the first day of fourth grade and it stuck. Like a disease. Like hemlock sap.

The Newton boy, she remembered. Michael? Mikey?

Something like that.

She preferred Jacob Black if she was gonna force herself to endure the male species. His eyes were black like coal. Kind like the brush of soaked cotton against her skin when she sat on the beach out in La Push. Smile white and wide, covering her face in blush like soot. His sisters produced the same effect, she was sure-- she didn’t like him or anything. God no. Just… a friend. A very pretty friend. A friend with nice dark skin. Soft as peach fuzz. But if she did like him, even though she didn’t because liking boys wasn’t something she ever wanted to do, he was seven and she had just turned ten and that was icky. That's what her mother had said the last time she had called the house. That the Black boy was hardly old enough to be her friend like that. Her dimple-faced, soft eyed, friend.

Her notebook was missing. The one she used for writing practice and to keep all the half scrawled declarations of love Mr. Knightley had stuttered out in that Jane Austen movie her father had recorded for her on the big box Television.

Izzy’s hands were scrambling and damp as she rummaged through her rightfully atrocious bag again and again without success. Her eyes turned wild, frantic with fear of all her little thoughts being splashed across an unexpected doorstep. Or worse, the scabbed over desk of Mikey Newton and his black headed friend.

A clipped moss green cover twinkled in the high sun just over her covered shoulder, the fabric turning dark at the crease. Her tongue wet the pillow of her lip and she sprinted, loose legs tumbling slightly with the rush.

It had been bundled to a fallen tree trunk. With leather ribbon. Covered in what looked to be a raincoat, too expensive for her father’s utility pockets. It looked completely untouched, suspiciously dry despite its survival of the night time pacific elements, no matter its wrapping. Fingernails chipped with forbidden periwinkle nail polish untied the composition book slowly, confusion and mystery replacing fear in a stomach swooping second. Her thumb, bitten to the quick, flipped through until landing on the inside back cover, covered in a small inky note, elegant in script.

‘You shouldn’t leave things out to rot in this weather. Especially things that are irreplaceable.’

No sign off. No name. No motive. She at least expected some taunt from one of the bigger neighborhood kids that had somehow found her not so hidden work. Nothing.

Irreplaceable? Her words were… irreplaceable?

She smiled all the way to the bus stop.

Bella Marie Swan starts to believe in monsters.

Being fourteen is the world’s way of spitting in your eye and then kissing you on the mouth, except it kisses you for real, not at all the way you thought girls got to be kissed. There's clicking of teeth and a tangle of old chapped lips and too much tongue. Too cold. Too fast. No sweeping off of feet. No candle lit dinner before. Just spongy clammy fingertips in places you don't want them to be and hair in your mouth.

Bella thought freshman year in Phoenix would be warm. Sun beating down on her skin like Apollo’s shield, melanin bursting just above her boiling red blood. There was supposed to be long drawn out poetry about marigolds and vibrant pink cactus blooms. But it's all sand. In her shoes. In the crack of her ass. She would’ve taken canyons over this. Maybe even mountains. But Charlie and Renee haven’t been talking for the last two years, long enough to know the difference between ignorance and bliss, and a man younger than her father has moved into the bedroom across from hers, in a house with walls much too thin. Walls that splinter when you run a fist at them.

She wonders if she’s supposed to marry him too.

She laughed when she asked Renee that. She didn’t even crack a smile.

Bella’s out on the cement back porch again, staring out at all that nothing that she’s come to love about Arizona, the stiff unnatural material of her shorts sliding uncomfortably against her freshly shaved thighs. Her mother had told her to start doing that too. Worse than kissing, she remarked. But it made her pretty like all the other desert transplant beauties, right? Like a fake plastic flower grafted onto a prickly pear. Something the grocery store would sell. Something not meant to be there.

A stagnant wind caressed her skin in flat heat. A fur coat of a blanket. She might just shove the last ice cubes in the freezer down her bra at this rate.

There are boot prints she doesn’t notice being washed away in the breeze, leading all the way up to the rocking bench chained to the overhang. Large slim diamonds lopping, lassoing around the old wood. Her eyes are closed and the sun is kind for now and there’s a chill blowing down her craned neck. It’s thin like a seabird and just as white. God the breeze is good. Chilly. Chilly?

Her chocolate eyes are molten as she snaps them open, open palm resting on her fragile collarbone. There is no longer natural air conditioning. The prints are gone. The sun no longer glitters behind her eyelids. There is no air in her lungs but her heart refuses to race, a scrunch comes to her brow as a stray object is left to wilt next to her hip, a place which once held her mother and then Phil and then. Nothing.

But now a strip of hemlock needles holding on to a thin branch for dear life is in her hands, touching her skin like a painful reminder of something she cannot remember. There weren’t hemlock trees for thousands of miles.

Nothing that green survived out here. Not even her.

There’s a wet chuckle in the wind that sounds like marred skin and southern fingers and her brain drowns itself in grey ghosts of the past. She still cannot recall. She never can quite get them right.

Bella Marie Swan presses the small twig between the heavy pages of her literature textbook and keeps it there. She gets fined fifty dollars as the school year comes to a close and steals the money out of Renee’s wallet like she has for the past three summers.

To remember.

Bella Swan does not need to believe in monsters. She knows them too well.

She supposes it's the eyes that surprise her. The tilt of his lips. The spare height of his cheekbones. The rest of the picture. The missing pieces. The ones her brain has been trying and failing to fill in itself. She had been wrong. So goddamn wrong.

She’s been seventeen for one hundred and twenty-three days. One hundred and twenty-three days of back and forth arguments with the woman who was once her mother and the man she let live her in bed when he wasn’t stalking the hallways, watching roads pass by in minor league themed blurs, wishing for an empty house once more. The sun hers and hers alone. She discovered and burned three CDs made by a boy who didn’t know her full name or the way her mouth tasted when she woke up and had forgotten to brush her teeth. She nearly burned down a hotel room with a candle she didn’t quite understand how to strike a match for, ran so hard she broke a pair of drug store running shoes, and tried to climb the lone tree in her deserted front yard just to say she still could. She got all the way to the top before realizing she had never gotten herself down before, not to her knowledge. Not to her father’s.

She had shoved everything she owned in a steel gray trunk and sat through the plane ride of her nightmares. Screaming children, water that tasted like a musty creek bed. No empty breathing room she so desperately prayed for. She was suffocating. She had suffocated.

And then. Him. The one hundred and twenty-third day. Closed in like a pack of old salmon chunks, held tight to a table of people that were sure that they had once known her, the cafeteria door had swung open. She should've been freezing this well into January, but all she knew was fire. The kind of heat that traveled from hypothermic limbs, the body’s way of tricking the brain into thinking everything will be alright while striking all the warning bells. She was sure he wasn’t breathing, all alone, the last boy to walk through the doors. A pariah. A martyr. God or Judas or Abel. Renee had never made her go to Sunday school and now she was cursing the woman over and over in her mind, just under her jaw.

The memories had unfurled.

The pretty girl next to her was going on about the grey skinned pseudo-family and all of it could’ve been written on cardstock and thrown at her in a heaping boulder and Bella wouldn’t have noticed. Not then. Not when his eyes were absolutely nowhere but exactly where they had never allowed themselves to be. The curve of her nose. The soft swell of her bottom lip as she tugged her teeth into it. The thin presence of her eyebrows. The fan of lashes, plucked, protecting the watery flesh that held his attention. His fists were hidden by the layer of denim that was his too light jacket but it didn’t matter, she knew what she would’ve seen.

Long lean fingers, ivory nail beds.

Her angel. Her writer. Her watcher. Now in front of her, hand stretching out, everyone staring.

“Do you need help, little miss?”

The best kind of monster.

#jasper x bella #my writing #writing #fanfic #twilight fanfic #mine #twilight #thetwilightsaga #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #bella swan

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tcm · 4 years

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‘The Pollack Rule’ By Donald Liebenson

It’s Valentine’s Day, and TCM’s fancy turns to love in all its many splendored-ness, from the fantasy THE ENCHANTED COTTAGE (‘ 45) to the tearjerker THE WAY WE WERE (’73). I was present when the latter film’s director, Sydney Pollack, made a provocative observation during a press junket while promoting his remake of SABRINA. He said that you could have a good romantic movie about two people who fall in love or fall out of love, but you couldn’t have a good romantic movie about two people already in love. On Valentine’s Day, and throughout the rest of the month, TCM is offering several classic film romances that bear him out and a few that may be exceptions to Pollack’s rule.

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (‘34)

“Do you love her?”

“YES! But don’t hold that against me, I’m a little screwy myself.”

Frank Capra’s 1934 screwball romance (one of the few comedies to win the Academy Award for Best Picture, along with the other top four categories) is all about conflict: Clark Gable is a disgraced newspaper man who needs a big story. Claudette Colbert is a woman who provides it for him when she runs away to reunite with the fiancée of whom her father disapproves. He’s a man of the people; she’s a spoiled heiress who for all her millions doesn’t know how to dunk (her donut in coffee, that is). Thrown together on the road, they bicker and banter until finally love emerges triumphant.

THE LADY EVE (‘41)

“You certainly are a funny girl for anybody to meet who`s just been up the Amazon for a year.''

Fleecing Charles Pike (Henry Fonda), “the tall, backward boy who's always toying with toads and things” is easy enough for card shark Jean (Barbara Stanwyck). The hard part is falling in love with her mark. But that’s only the beginning of Preston Sturges’ breakneck farce that seamlessly combines high wit and low (albeit expertly timed) pratfalls.

CITY LIGHTS (‘31)

“Yes, I can see now.”

Perhaps the main conflict here is Charlie Chaplin opting to make a silent film three years after sound came in. But this rapturous love story makes for his lovely swan song to the silent era. If you can keep a dry eye in the iconic climactic moment when the formerly blind flower seller realizes that the tramp standing before her was her benefactor who helped restore her sight, you are made of sterner stuff than I am.

THE SMILING LIEUTENANT (‘31)

“When we like someone, we smile. But when we want to do something about it, we wink.”

Greater minds than mine (I guess that takes up most of you) have tried to convey the unbearable lightness of being that is the Lubitsch Touch. The last seven minutes of this charming pre-Code Lubitsch gem should do the trick as Maurice Chevalier is flabbergasted by the “jazz up your lingerie” transformation of the heretofore sheltered princess (Miriam Hopkins) he was forced to marry.

SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN (‘52)

“You sure look lovely in the moonlight, Kathy.”

Stanley Donen’s glorious musical in which Debbie Reynolds’ aspiring actress Kathy Selden was meant for Gene Kelly’s silent screen star Don Lockwood. But can their love survive the machinations of Don’s screen partner, Lina Lamont, who can’t act, can’t sing and can’t dance but who is determined to remain hitched to his star?

GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER (‘67)

“You're two wonderful people who happened to fall in love and happen to have a pigmentation problem.

Dr. John Prentice (Sidney Poitier) and Christina Drayton (Katharine Houghton) are an interracial couple in love when the film opens, and they are Switzerland-bound to be married. In this groundbreaking 1967 Oscar-winner, the conflict comes from expected places (“There'll be 100 million people right here in this country who will be shocked and offended and appalled”), but also unexpected: Christina’s own father (Spencer Tracy), who up to this point had considered himself a liberal.

THE PALM BEACH STORY (‘42)

“Sex always has something to do with it, dear.”

Although not as transgressive as a pregnant Betty Hutton in THE MIRACLE OF MORGAN’S CREEK, Preston Sturges’ screwiest comedy hits the ground running with a potent censor-baiting conflict, namely that Claudette Colbert schemes to divorce the struggling architect husband she loves (Joel McCrea) to marry a multi-millionaire who can finance one of her husband’s radical projects. As the besotted millionaire, Rudy Vallee gets the lion’s share of the film’s best lines (“That’s one of the tragedies of this life - that the men who are most in need of a beating up are always enormous.”)

NINOTCHKA (‘39)

“Chemically, we're already quite sympathetic.”

Lovers don’t get more star-crossed than a Communist Russian envoy (Greta Garbo) and a capitalist Parisian playboy (Melvyn Douglas). But like Paris at night, this comedy deftly directed by Lubitch sparkles and glitters. The script, co-written by Billy Wilder, nimbly navigates grim reality and romantic fantasy, as witness a drunken Ninotchka’s pleas to the “people of the world”: “I know, wars will wash over us, bombs will fall, all civilization will crumble, but not yet, please. Wait, wait; what's the hurry? Let us be happy. Give us our moment.”

THE AWFUL TRUTH (‘37)

“In the spring, a young man's fancy lightly turns to what he's been thinking about all winter.”

Married couple Cary Grant and Irene Dunne love each other, so much so that they are willing to go to hilarious lengths to sabotage each other’s new romances after they get divorced over suspicions of infidelity. THE AWFUL TRUTH anticipates by one year Howard Hawks’ BRINGING UP BABY, in which Katharine Hepburn’s character indelibly defines the ethos of screwball comedy: “All that happened, happened because I was trying to keep you near me. I just did anything that came into my head.”

And that’s what love is all about; at least in the movies.

#TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Singin' in the Rain #greta garbo #musical #Donald Liebenson #Valentines Day

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searchingwardrobes · 3 years

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Ivory Runs Red: 4/6

Just look at this cover art by @cocohook38 !!!!! Isn’t it amazing? I just can’t stop staring at it. She is so talented and spent so much time working on this, please head over to her blog and give her some love.

This chapter is sort of a bridge chapter (no pun intended) where we begin to discover connections between all the characters. Belle especially is tied to Emma in a surprising way.

Massive thanks again to my beta @demisexualemmaswan and everyone in the @cssns !

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian@hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna @distant-rose @courtorderedcake @winterbythesea @thesschesthair @killian-whump @thisonesatellite @batana54 @it-meant-something @xsajx @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling

Chapter Four: Red

“Neal Gold,” Belle said, her voice trembling with excitement, “no wonder it got covered up.”

Belle struggled with an ancient tome on the top shelf in the library’s genealogy room, and Killian rushed to help her. When they set it atop the metal desk nearby, a cloud of dust billowed up. The genealogy room was hidden away in the basement too.

“I still can’t believe Graham went to the bridge,” Belle continued. He’d never seen her so giddy with excitement. “This will show everyone Killian! You aren’t crazy!”

Killian nodded weakly. He knew it was true, and he knew that Graham getting Neal’s last name from Emma was a huge break for them, but he was starting to worry. He wanted to help Emma by solving her murder, but he also didn’t want to lose her. Didn’t ghosts linger because they had unfinished business? If he, Belle, and Graham, took care of Emma’s unfinished business, then would she . . . what? Move on to paradise? Cease to exist?

“Killy, did you hear what I said?”

He shook the thoughts from his head and focused on Belle who stood over the huge book, her finger pointing to its binding.

“Um, sorry. What did you say?”

“I tried to look up Swan, Emma, but the entire S section is missing.”

Belle’s fingers ran along the torn edges of several pages. Killian ran his hand wearily down his face.

“Of course it is. So no birth certificate there either.”

“Wait a minute!” Belle exclaimed. “We know she died in 1894, and we know she was sixteen years old.”

“Which means she was born in 1878. We figured that out already. But the birth certificates from that entire year are also missing, remember?”

Belle nodded. “Yes, yes, the Gold family had money and power and were very thorough, but they may not have thought about baby announcements.”

Killian grinned. “Parents put baby announcements in the newspaper! Belle, you’re a genius!”

They ran down the short hallway to the microfilm room. Belle quickly pulled out the film for 1878 and put it in the machine. Once they figured out where the social section of the paper was located, they were able to scroll fairly quickly. And then - there it was. Just a few short lines:

David and Mary Margaret Swan are pleased to announce the birth of their daughter, Emma Eva Swan, on October 22nd, 1878 at three o-clock in the afternoon. She is welcomed by her paternal grandmother, Ruth Elizabeth Swan, and her maternal grandfather, Leopold Blanchard.

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

“David and Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered.

Killian tightened his hold around her shoulders and brushed a kiss against the crown of her head. “They were your parents.”

Emma nodded slowly, and he watched her facial expression under the light of the waning moon. He could practically see happy memories light up her face.

“I remember them,” she whispered. “We didn’t have a lot of money, but we were very happy. We lived on a farm.”

She dropped her head onto Killian’s shoulder and let out a contented sigh. They remained that way for a long moment, silently watching the stars twinkle overhead.

“She had a beautiful smile,” Emma told him quietly, “and he used to cup my head so tenderly whenever he hugged me. That’s all I remember, though. Their faces are even fuzzy in my memory.”

“I’m sorry.”

She turned in his embrace so she could look him in the eye. “Don’t be. I wouldn’t remember anything if it weren’t for you. Thank you, Killian.”

She pulled his head down gently so she could press her lips to his. They lost themselves in the passion of their kisses.

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

Killian sat with Belle once again in the library’s musty basement. Books with cracked leather bindings were piled around them: genealogy records, property records, and marriage certificates. With names and the information that Emma grew up on a farm, they were able to piece together the history of the Swan and Gold families.

There was no evidence, however, of the Swan’s reporting their daughter was missing. In fact, aside from the birth announcement in the paper, there was no evidence that Emma Swan had existed at all. Everytime they got close, records were conveniently missing. Pages had clearly been torn out of several books, and years worth of Storybrooke Mirror and Portland Press articles were missing from the microfilm records.

“It’s so obvious, though,” Belle exclaimed in frustration, slamming yet another large book shut. “Neal Gold falls in love with Emma Swan, a poor farmer’s daughter. His family would never approve of the relationship, so he never plans on marrying her. She’s just a good time to him.”

“I’m still a little grossed out by how old he was,” Killian muttered.

Those records hadn’t been missing. Neal Gold was absolutely, unequivocally twenty nine years old when he met fourteen year old Emma Swan. Which made him thirty one when he got her pregnant and murdered her.

Disgusting.

“Belle? Did you hear me?”

His friend had gone completely pale, her finger frozen in the center of a yellowed page. Killian got up and leaned over her shoulder.

“What’s this?”

She flipped the heavy leather volume back to the cover with a deep sigh. Killian leaned further over his shoulder and read the title out loud.

“The Life, Impact, and Genealogy of Storybrooke’s Founding Family: The Golds. Well that’s not pretentious at all,” he snorted. Belle giggled. “By -”

He cut off, reeled back, and looked at Belle, who nodded in affirmation. “By Roderick Gaston?”

“There’s more,” Belle told him, flipping back to the page that had left her frozen.

It was a family tree, and Killian scanned it quickly. At the top was Robert Gold, the founder of Storybrooke, with his wife Milah’s name beside his. Below that, it listed their only son: Neal Gold. He married Tamara Gold in 1894, the same year Emma died.

“Well, there’s another motive for murder,” Killian murmured, “not only did he get a teenager pregnant, he was cheating on his fiance.”

“Keep going,” Belle whispered.

Neal and Tamara had three children: Bonnie, Felix, and Gretchen. The oldest daughter, Bonnie, had married Roderick Gaston, and they had two sons: Lewis and Mitchum Gaston.

“Wait - isn’t Mike’s dad Mitch Gaston?”

“Yes,” Belle told him softly, “and I met his grandfather once, too. His name is Roderick. I never put two and two together before, but the man was the worst snob. He kept asking who my people were and going on and on about how the Gaston’s were connected to Storybrooke’s finest families.”

“So this means that your boyfriend -”

“Is the descendant of Emma’s murderer.”

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

“Where the hell are you going?”

Killian jumped at the sound of his brother’s voice. He whirled away from the back door to find Liam standing in the kitchen with the phone in his hand. Killian could hear the loud, grating beeping of the line as it went dead.

“Who were you talking to at 3 am?” Killian shot back.

Liam narrowed his eyes then slowly put the phone back onto the receiver that hung on the wall. He took his time untangling the long cord before turning back to face Killian.

“Something’s happened, little brother.”

Liam’s voice was so full of fear, shock, and sadness that Killian didn’t even bother correcting him on the little brother label.

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

The girl in the hospital bed couldn’t possibly be Belle. Her eyes were wild and darted around the room, her hair was a tangled mass around her face, and when she saw Killian she began to scream.

“I saw her, Killy! The ghost! The blood, the blood, the blood . . .”

Orderlies ran in and grabbed her before she could lunge from the bed. She fought them tenaciously, her back arching and her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Ivory runs red, ivory runs red. He’s dead, he’s dead.” She started to laugh maniacally as one orderly managed to get a syringe into her veins. They wrestled her to the bed and strapped her down, but she continued to speak, her words slurring. “He’s dead, dead, dead.”

She arched her back one more time, mumbling about ivory and red, shaking her head back and forth. Then she began to say the rhyme they had learned as children, singing it to a morbid little tune.

“When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead.”

Killian felt the blood rush from his head, leaving his skin cold in the sterile room as he watched Belle’s breaths even out. He knew the kinds of drugs running through her veins, God did he know. He also knew no one would believe her.

Mike Gaston was dead, and Killian couldn’t muster a modicum of grief.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cssns21 #captain swan supernatural summer #horror #ghost story #strange lieutenant duckling #lol just trust me #happy ending of sorts

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20rubixcubes · 4 years

Photo

enhypen as baristas

maknae line x gn!reader (comedy, fluff, mild angst)

~1.2k words ea (headcanons)

warnings: cursing

a/n: i just wrote this for funsies, please be mindful that there is heavy swearing in these headcanons (particularly in ni-ki’s part), so if that isn’t your taste, perhaps skip this one! other than that, the rest of this is pretty chill, so i hope you enjoy my shitposting. oh, and lmk if you like this enough to want part two with the hyung line 👀 just maybe i’ll do it

sunoo

was only recently employed as an afternoon shift employee and was both shocked and distressed after discovering the cafe didnt have an instagram

“what do you MEAN you dont have instagram??? how do we post selfies???” “sunoo we sell coffee” “NO ONE WANTS COFFEE JUNGWON THEY WANT CUTE BARISTAS”

starts an instagram for the cafe and takes aesthetic pictures of his latte art

his selfies get way more likes though

speaking of his latte art, he masters the skill like a week in and everyone else is incredibly jealous

their jealousy wears off when jungwon tells him that he has to start training the new apprentices

pretends he forgot how to do it for like a week but it hurts his pride so he begrudgingly agrees to train the apprentices instead

in his free time he can be found snapping pictures around the shop, eventually expanding to taking pictures of the others too

“sunghoon stop moving you look cute and i need to take a photo” “sunoo im holding hot milk” “does it look like i care beauty is pain sweetie”

other than that, he sometimes sits in the booths to snack on muffins and do his homework since he only comes in to the shop for about an hour during his school lunch break and on the weekends

you meet sunoo after applying for an apprenticeship, wanting to get a job before you finish high school and start college

seen as though jungwon looks like the boss, you approach him, nervous for your first shift

“i’m here for the apprenticeship program?” “oh yeah! one second!”

he trots off to the back room, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafe

“SUNOO GET OFF JAY YOU HAVE AN APPRENTICE TO TRAIN” “*gasp* YOU MADE ME SMUDGE HIS LIPSTICK I'M QUITTING” “NO YOURE NOT GET OUT THERE RIGHT NOW”

the yelling pauses before who you presume is sunoo stomps through the back room door, a scowl on his face

he spots you, groaning loudly “are you the apprentice?”

“yes” you say meekly, guilty for seeming to ruin his shift

he gestures you to follow him behind the counter, pulling an apron out from under the sink and shoving it to your chest

its clear that hes pissed, yanking his tools out from the cupboards as you tie your apron behind your back quietly

“have you made coffee before?” “only instant coffee” “oh fantastic”

he seems to be getting more irritated by the minute before he takes a deep breath and starts directing you around the machines

“to do the art, you angle the mug like this and draw with the milk, but it wont show until it reaches the top so dont go crazy”

as if its nothing, he demonstrates by drawing a perfect swan in the milk, setting the latte down and dusting his hands off

“wow… thats amazing” “i know right? no one here appreciates me enough” “they should! this is the best i’ve ever seen”

he grins at your compliment, nodding with satisfaction and sending a wave of relief over you as you notice he looks less angry with you now

“um… im sorry if i interrupted whatever you were doing before” “oh, that? i was just doing jay’s makeup” “you like makeup? me too! i’ve never seen a boy interested in it though, thats really cool” you smile genuinely at him as he blinks in surprise

“really? you think its cool?” “definitely!”

you watch the gears turn in his head before he smiles widely, seeming to have come to some kind of revelation as he nods

“i like you.”

your cheeks heat up immediately, but before you can say anything in return, he starts calling out for jungwon, leaning over the counter

“JUNGWOOON, CAN WE HAVE THIS ONE?”

“well thats up to them” he looks up from the table hes wiping down, adjusting his apron as he walks over to the counter

“so youre all finished with the course? i hope sunoo wasnt too much for you”

“i wasnt! anyways, youre employed, okay?” “sunoo stop theyre just an apprentice”

he groans loudly, irritated once more as he whips his head to you

“you have to work here, ok? i said so, so come back and apply or i’ll be mad!”

you laugh at his antics and smile “i’ll see what i can do”

after jungwon pries sunoo off of your arm, you return your apron and leave the shop with a wave

“YOU BETTER COME BACK!” is the last thing you hear as you step out onto the street, the bell ringing to signal your exit

a week later, you return to the shop, slightly anxious that your new friend(?) might have forgotten about you

but this is quickly washed away when you hear a high pitched squeal from the counter

“JUNGWON! HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GET THE FORMS THEYRE HERE”

you laugh as you approach the counter, a teasing tone on your voice

“are you supposed to be talking to your boss like that?” “whats he gonna do? fire me? im the only one who can make coffee in this place” “true”

soon enough, jungwon comes out of his hiding place, his hands clasped together

“im really sorry to ask this but please, you have to work here, sunoo hasnt shut up about you all week and i dont know if i can stand him anymore, i’ll even pay you extra please dear god”

you give sunoo a look, only receiving an innocent smile and puppy eyes back

“sure, i’ll take the job!”

jungwon sighs in relief as sunoo begins jumping up and down, yelling something about having his own little baby to take care around the shop as you groan, covering your blushing face

once you have your hours established (sunoo made you take the same as all of his, but you did the nights instead of the afternoons on the weekends, to his displeasure), you get straight to working

… well, sort of

it was hard to get work done with sunoo pestering you around the clock

“you think im cute right?” “yes sunoo” “even though i have bags under my eyes? “yes sunoo” “you promise?” “yes sunoo” “good”

admittedly he is slightly of help when it comes to the more fiddly parts of making coffee, but every other second of the day he seems to be flirting nonstop

“can i kiss you?” “no” “why not” “sunoo we’ve been over this” “BEING AT WORK ISNT A VALID EXCUSE”

worn down after his incessant yelling all day, you find yourself snapping faster than usual

“we’re not even dating, sunoo! why would i kiss you!? just stop playing with my feelings already!”

for the first time since you’ve known him, sunoo goes quiet

“why not?”

“what are you talking about now sunoo?” “why arent we dating”

now its your turn to go quiet

“do you not like me?” “what? no, sunoo-” before you can reason with him, you watch him quickly rush away from you around the counter, slamming the break room door behind him with tears in his eyes

cursing to yourself, you ensure there are no customers to serve before quickly darting after him

after looking around a bit, you hear sniffling from the supply closet and knock on the door quietly

“sunoo?” “leave me alone!”

you sigh, taking a step back and turning on your heel to face the opposite direction, running a hand through your hair as you think

you spot a dog bed at your feet, suddenly remembering that jake usually keeps his dog supplies covered in dog hair in the closet

“sunoo arent you allergic to dogs?”

“... *sniffle* y-yeah”

after you persuade him to come out by mentioning that his face is going to get all puffy, he steps out, eyes glued to the floor as he looks away from you in shame

placing a hand on his shoulder, you speak to him softly

“sunoo, look at me”

he does, hesitantly, his eyes red and watery and, as you said, puffy and inflamed

despite this, you smile

“i do like you back”

his eyes start watering again, your heart skipping a beat in fear that you had said something wrong

“e-even if my face is all puffy and gross?” his voice wobbles, the tears filling his eyes giving him a sense of vulnerability as you sigh

“yes, even if your face is all puffy and gross”

he smiles at that, shutting his eyes cutely as you press a kiss to his cheek

“and theres your kiss”

he whines “i was supposed to do that!”

“you can do it after we finish work, okay?” “WORK STILL ISNT A VALID EXCUSE…. but maybe today just because i need to ice my face” “yeah you really should, can you even see?” “no not at all” “great”

jungwon

the previous manager left suddenly and jungwon was given a semi-forced promotion as he was the only employee with at least half of a brain cell

poor boy is stressed 24/7

doesnt get paid enough for this

“hey jungwon we ran out out of coffee bea-” “I ORDERED NEW ONES FOUR HOURS AGO NOW SHUT UP IM TRYING TO MAKE SURE THE BOSS DOESNT FIND JAKE’S DOG SHELTER IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET”

goes through hell every day just to make sure the others dont burn the cafe down

is supposed to be on the morning shift but he stays until the afternoon

in his rare moments of downtime, he likes to go around and water the hanging plants around the shop

is that one vine where the mom listens to nicki minaj for the first time and screams “no” over and over whenever ni-ki gets control of the cafe music

“RIKI NISHIMURA WHAT IS THAT ON THE SPEAKERS” “ITS OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR ARIANA GRANDE” “TURN IT OFF THIS IS NOT PG13” “SHUT THE FUCK UP GRANDPA”

is only 16 but acts like a 32-year-old father going through a midlife crisis

lifts boxes of supplies all day yet his joints are famously brittle

“hey jungwon did you hear glass shattering too?” “sorry jay that was my back” “you need to invest in physical therapy” “maybe if i wasnt paying for property damage every other week 😊”

you meet jungwon when you drop into the cafe for a croissant and a coffee before your class starts

usually you come at night maybe an hour before closing so you had never seen him before, but here you were watching this cute but clearly stressed boy scramble around the shop carrying boxes of supplies to the back

trying not to be creepy, you sigh, turning back to your phone after watching him for a solid five minutes straight

as you do, you hear a crash coming from what you assume is the supply closet followed by a disgruntled groan

pausing, looking around at the other customers typing away at their laptops and waiting for another staff member to go check on the boy, you stand up as you discern that he must be the only one working and hesitantly go to see if he’s okay

“hello? are you okay?” you peer through the door, your eyes widening at the sight of him rubbing his head with a wince on his features, supplies strewn around him at his feet and a box knocked over beside him

“ah… um, yes, i’m okay, sorry if i disturbed you with that noise…” he smiles bashfully, pulling himself back onto his feet

“do you need help with all of that stuff?”

he opens his mouth to protest, not wanting to have to ask for help from a customer, but after seeing the amount of crap off of the shelves, he realises that there is no way in hell he’s going to be able to clean all of it up alone before his shift ends

“um… is that okay?” his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you smile

“sure!”

over the next couple of hours you two establish a little system of bagging the spilt supplies and passes them to eachother to put in boxes, chatting never ceasing as you discover that you actually have a lot of things in common

“since you work here, what’s your favourite kind of coffee?” “i like lattes… i cant stand bitter things” “me too! my friend drinks espressos though” “ditch them”

you also find out that he started being homeschooled after becoming the manager as he doesnt have time to attend normal school

the both of you find yourselves laughing nonstop, having fun in eachother’s company

so much so that you end up late for school

“oh shit! i completely missed my first class”

guilty for making you late, he offers to take you

“i can take you?” “you drive?” “well….. not exactly”

once sunoo and ni-ki arrive to care for the shop, he takes you out to the car park, pulling a spare helmet out of his backpack and securing it on your head before giving your head a pat as he gets onto his scooter

“you look cute” “i look like a bug” “a cute bug”

once you get to school, face red after having to hold onto him the entire time, you hop off and pass him the helmet with a shy smile

“thanks for driving me” you mutter, brushing off imaginary dirt from your shirt as you do your best to avoid eye contact, your face still flushed and heart racing

is it possible to develop a crush on someone this quickly???

jungwon is so cute that he makes it possible, you surmise

“of course” he mirrors your nervous smile, a blush finding its way to his own cheeks

as you bow and spin on your heel to start walking inside, he stops you

“wait!”

“what is it?” you turn to him, your heart still thundering against your ribcage at the fond expression he has plastered on his features

“actually… can i pick you up? after school?”

when you pause, your face growing hotter and hotter, he begins to sputter

“i-i’m really sorry, its fine if not! that was way too forward, i just really like you and- oh god that was even more forward- um-” “okay” “yeah i’m sorry that was a stupid questio- wait, what?”

before he can say anything else, your smile widens

“i’ll see you later, okay? don’t be late!” you wave, skipping into the building with a fluffy feeling in your chest

with an awkward wave, jungwon watches you leave, his mouth wide open in shock before a grin replaces his expression

getting back into his seat, the lovestruck smile never leaving his face as he drives off, he begins to count down the minutes until he gets to see you again

ni-ki

works the afternoon shift

technically an apprentice but he gets paid and has been there forever so basically an employee at this point

or he would be if he ever actually made coffee

he sits with the work phone all morning and chooses the music

perpetually dancing to 7 rings by ariana grande (look up his cover. youre welcome in advance)

jungwon and jay scream at him to at least do the mopping to which he complies, but not without performing a whole ass concert with it

once they saw him twirl and dip the mop

eventually they just told him to go back to curating the music because he was scaring customers away and they were losing business

he was horrible at cleaning anyway

“hey jungwon i think i got window cleaner in your plant” “im firing you” “i dont even go here” “STOP QUOTING MEAN GIRLS AND FIX THE DAMAGE YOUVE CAUSED”

you meet ni-ki while youre drinking your coffee at a booth and he plays your favourite obscure indie song so you have to compliment his taste and get to talking

he plays your favourite songs whenever youre in the shop and audibly hisses at anyone who tries to change it

makes choreography to said songs at home and tries to impress you by casually belting it out by your booth

when you compliment his dancing and ask how long hes been practicing that choreography hes all like “oh hahaha it was just casual freestyle super easy peasy”

(hes been practicing for two weeks)

thought he was being super obvious by doing these things but apparently nOT because you have not caught the hint at all and hes getting impatient

asks for advice from the others begrudgingly

“give them flowers” “jay thats so boring” “do you want to use one of my dogs? everyone loves dogs” “wtf jake since when have you had more than one dog” “make them latte art with a heart on it” “sunoo ive literally never made a coffee in my life” “why dont you just ask them out like a normal perso-” “shut the fuck up grandpa thats so weird no one does that”

eventually he settles on sunoo’s idea of making you latte art and he embarks on his journey to make his first coffee

rather than focusing on the actual taste, sunoo tells him to just do whatever so that he can show him how to do the art

“why is it green ni-ki” “you said to do whatever” “and your first idea was to make poison? idk if this is the best idea if youre trying to ask this person out” “shut up and pass me the milk”

burns his hands on the steaming milk jug at least fifteen times and ends up with so many bandaids on his fingers

despite how stiff the bandages are on his hands, he eventually manages to make a sort-of legible heart

“it looks like africa” “have you ever had steamed milk poured on your eyes sunoo?”

poor ni-ki waits for you all day, his heart leaping every time the bell on the door rings only to roll his eyes when it isnt you

he even stays past his shift so youd better let him take you on a date or hes quitting

when you finally arrive he trips over the bucket at his feet he was using to clean and spills dirty water all over his pants

“omg ni-ki are you okay what happened” *five octaves higher* “NOTHING I'M COMPLETELY FINE WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT”

by the time he’s finished cleaning himself up (and by that i mean fixing his hair in the mirror for twenty minutes) he takes a deep breath and walks over to you, somewhat cold latte in hand

“um,” he clears his throat, his face growing red as he slides the mug towards you “i made this for you”

“aw thanks ni-ki! why is it green” “........its matcha?”

youre slightly suspicious but you look back to the mug and slowly realise that the “drawing” slightly resembles a heart, smiling a little bit to yourself

when you look back to him, youre a little confused as to why hes just standing there

“is something wrong?” you press the mug to your lips, taking a sip

“o-uh uh actually, i wanted to ask if… if you would uh maybe sort of go on a date with me”

you can only smile

“yes, but…”

his heart starts beating faster, watching you anxiously

you stand up, taking the notepad and pen from his apron pocket and scribbling your phone number

“only if you promise to learn how to make actual coffee” you wink, handing him the notepad and sauntering out of the shop

hes stood there dumbstruck, stars in his eyes at the slip of paper in his hand

but then he realises: he has a new mission

rushing to the back room, he slams the door open

“grandpa, i need you to teach me how to make coffee right now” “literally why do i pay you”

with your promise in mind, the others see him work more diligently at the counter than they ever have before

“wow youre actually working today?” “shut up i need to figure out how to do this butterfly before i pry my eyes out with a fork” “haha funny joke ni-” “did i stutter”

at the end of the week, he forces heeseung (the cafe’s best coffee maker) and sunoo (the cafe’s best latte artist) to judge his latte

“this is… surprisingly good” heeseung peers into the mug, smiling at the swan ni-ki created with the latte foam as sunoo grumbles “dont tell me im gonna have to start competing with this kid, it probably tastes gross” “it tastes amazing too” “im quitting”

with his coworkers’ notes in mind, he finally works up the nerve to send you a quick message telling you to come into the shop

when you arrive the next day, ni-ki greets you and immediately gets to work, making sure to stand as close as humanly possible to your booth so he can show off his newly acquired coffee making skills

with you only inches away, he does make a mistake and spill milk on his shirt after looking at you and not his hands for a second too long, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt when he sets the mug in front of you

“wow! this heart is perfect!”

you smile, looking up to him “did you seriously learn how to do latte art just so you could take me on a date?” “… y-yeah, and?”

you can only chuckle as you press the mug to your lips, readying yourself to drink liquid dirt…

“this is… really good!” you grin, taking another sip and putting the mug down on its saucer

“i think you’ve definitely earned yourself a date… or two”

at this news, ni-ki’s face lights up, shoving the urge to scream down his throat before nodding stiffly to try and contain his excitement with a strained “cool” escaping his lips

“are you okay ni-ki?” “yes just give me one second”

he quickly scrambles to the break room, a moment of silence wafting through the store before a shrill scream fills the air

eyes wide, you turn to jay, who had been manning the till, after hearing him burst into laughter

“what is he doing?”

“we told him the freezer was sound proof”

#grumbles i guess i will tag #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon x reader #nishimura riki x reader

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