#though on some older phones they can look blurry (on mine too) because they are big. if that's the case open them up separately

[tarnussy]

Nokstella, Eternal City

[memorycard83]

Digital photography & me

The way I feel about digital photography has changed a lot throughout the years. At first I thought photography was blurry backgrounds, sharp images, no imperfections, and that everything had to be perfect. I feel like a lot of the time I had good ideas that I did not like because of the fact it looked nothing like the others photography I have seen before on the internet.

It took awhile to figure out what style I wanted to pursue with photography. From 2013-2015 I had already liked my style of just using my phone and content with the focal length the phone camera had to offer, it was a cheap samsung phone I never figured out the name of. I never really liked iphones so I didn't get the chance to see if using those would've enhanced my photography in any way.

During those times of using a phone for photography, I personally had a lot of fun just taking random images and figuring out how to compose shots for my eye before understanding what exactly is composition and how to make photos look better for everyone and not just me. Those images from 2013-2015 still hold up to this day in my honest opinion now that people appreciate low-quality photos from a camera or a digicam.

After being able to get my hands on a digital camera thanks to a good friend of mine named Jordan, I started to realize there was a lot to learn with photography instead of just pointing and shooting likeI would on my phone. The camera was a Canon 60D mark ii with a stock lens. Jordan thought it was about time I took my photography to the next level and I felt the same way with how I was basically making a photo journal with my instagram.

It was a lot to figure out because photography was no longer a simple point and shoot type of game, though there is ways to make it a point and shoot type of game by switching the camera to program mode. It wasn't really that difficult to learn but for the most part I spent a lot of time just messing with one setting at a time and that was ISO which I would love to explain, but right now is really not the time to explain how cameras operate.

Although I had little to no clue what I was doing with the camera at first, a lot of people really liked the photos I took at that time. However, there was just something about the images that I didn't like, but now that I'm older and I guess more experienced, I know what exactly could've made the photos more appealing for me. Even then I do love seeing how I approached photography back when I didn't know much. It was a lot of just "I like what I'm looking at, let me take a picture of it".

I wasn't too much of a fan of how people online approached photography for some reason. Well, not for some reason, it all felt like it was the same recipe. A lot of it took place in PS or LR (photoshop/lightroom). Though now I realize there are definitely photos that need photoshop or lightroom, especially if those photos were to appear on websites or advertisements. At the same time, I don't think I was following the right people showing me the type of photography I wanted to pursue. Had I followed the right people I probably would've perfected my style. Despite the fact my photos were for the most part unedited and raw, I liked a lot of them even though I can understand how it isn't something that most people would consider "digital photography".

It wasn't until sometime in 2018 I decided to try a new camera, a mirrorless camera, the Panasonic G9. This camera had to be the best beginner friendly camera ever that actually helped me learn a lot about photography just by using the camera. At this point I had stopped using my phone for photography and only the Panasonic G9.

Throughout 2018 I was taking a lot of pictures of just about everything I could see and bought/read some books about photography, but not digital photography, film photography. I had also began to watch a lot movies, I didn't really see a lot of movies growing up especially slow pace artsy movies. A lot of the influence for my photography in 2018 would be from the movies I saw around that time.

As time went on I began to realize something about cameras I hadn't bothered to look up before, it had to do with camera sensors and that all cameras are equipped with different sensors, 1/4 inch sensors, M4/3 sensors, APSC sensors, Full frame sensors, and Medium format sensors. There's a lot of them but those are the ones most camera users are pretty familiar with. I had learned that the Panasonic G9 was equipped with a M4/3 sensor and because of that, it made some images not look anything close to cameras with a Full frame sensor. The Canon 60D mark ii was equipped with a APSC sensor, which by any means was not bad. It started to make sense why a lot of pictures didn't bring me the satisfaction I was looking for in photography.

In 2019 I finally got my hands on Full frame sensor, the Sony a7rii. I had watched a lot of youtube videos explaining the key differences in images between the sensor sizes of a Full frame camera and a M4/3 camera, as well as APSC. A lot of the time I believed what people online would say about M4/3 and APSC which is they are not good enough for photography or video because the sensor is not as big as the Full frame. The dynamic range of the smaller sensors weren't as good as the Full frame sensor and the images from smaller sensors do not deliver a 3D pop that Full frame sensors can create.

Through 2019 to 2020 I used the Panasonic G9 and the Sony A7rii, realizing small things that make one sensor better than the other. In my experiences I realized it's pretty complex trying to explain why you might want to use this or that camera because it had a bigger or smaller sensor. I began to realize it wasn't necessarily the sensors fault, anymore but the millimeter of the lens equipped with the sensor, though I do think the sensor can be a problem too, but thats is a whole different topic that isn't worth getting into which relates to "crop factor". What people don't talk about with crop factor is how some lenses can benefit from a smaller sensor.

During 2021 I had wanted to take a break from photography for good because I didn't have much desire to keep taking pictures compared to earlier years, whether it was with a phone or real camera that would weight me down as I casually go on my photowalks. Not only that I had stopped watching movies as often as I used to back in 2018-2020. I had made something on my own in my own terms but it was never completed because it was all suppose to be done between the hours of 2am-5am where the streets were empty and quiet. I had started working morning shifts and so I quickly gave up on the idea. Not only that, nothing was really written out, just winging it and embracing slow pace artsy movies that have little to no plot.

It wasn't until the end of 2021 where I met my friend Giselle who was very much into movies, but had watched way more movies than me since they had been watching they were a child. It spoke to me meeting someone else passionate in the desire to create something or having a plot in their mind. So after a few months I had bought a new camera, the Panasonic Lumix S1H. It was basically the best affordable cinema camera with really good lowlight capabilities and video codec, making it to be perhaps the best camera I'll probably ever own and the last camera I'll ever purchase.

As time went on and going into 2022, I started to realize photography was going in a new direction and I was focused on videos not because of reels or tiktok but because I wanted to create whatever I could with the camera I had just bought which also turned out being able to take great images. Ended up using the Lumix S1H for filming my friends performing music which ended up being a great idea because I realized I also have a style with filming people perform music, or just have a desire to simply film people performing music.

Around that time I also started to look into compact cameras, I had previously purchased one back in December of 2021, the Pentax optio 230. I had only purchase this camera because I really wanted a camera with a CCD sensor, even if that sensor was going to be old and 1/4 inch sensor. I liked the camera too because it uses double A batteries and I have some that are rechargeable so it all works out. The only thing missing was having a cardreader for the camera, it uses old compactflash cards that aren't really that easy to find adapters for.

It wasn't until 2023 where I decided to buy a compactflash card reader for the camera and it was pretty awkward timing because everyone is really into digicams now. Which is good and bad, bad because the prices of those cameras are now going too high. Good because this means I can go back to shooting pictures with a camera I can carry all the time and everywhere. Nobody cares about composition that much, what settings are used, or what lens etc. It's almost like going back to using my phone basically. It's a not the greatest camera or fastest camera but I love how it looks and operates.

This year I'm planning on taking pictures everyday and just stay keeping myself creating or just doing something I love. I don't care much about photography like I used to and I don't really care about what gear people use anymore because I used a lot of em and I've realized I know what works for me, and it's not a 3000 dollar camera with expensive lenses.

[tinisprout]

Not as a Friend

Pairing: Heeseung x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word count: 2,485

Summary: The two of you have always been close to each other. Saying, I love you, as friends, since young. But your feelings are deeper than that of a friend. A confession pushes you to tell him how you really feel, even if it might ruin your friendship.

A/N: It's been a millennium since I've written. This is also my first time writing in First Person so this was a struggle. Still, I hope it's not too bad. *I wrote this with the thought of the Reader and Heeseung being high school seniors, already 18, but I never specified age or grade in the story, so I guess it doesn't really matter. Anyways, enjoy!

The walk home with Heeseung today feels unbearable, I know that he keeps glancing in my direction, I know he’s worried after seeing my face in class. That makes it hurt even more, he’s so kind and caring, what did I do to deserve a friend like him? We continue our walk back home in silence and I think about the past.

I like you and I love you are very straightforward words, but depending on the context of the relationship they can have a different meaning. I remember the first time I said I loved him, it was a very wholesome moment. We were only six, our mothers watched us play together in the park, “They haven’t known each other for very long but they get along so well,” my mother said gleefully.

“Yes, they must really like each other,” Heeseung’s mother replied. I lifted my head to look at Heeseung, our eyes met and we smiled at each other. Hearing their conversation, I turned to them ready to tell the world about my friend.

“I love Heeseung, he is my best friend!” I grabbed his hands, they were just as small as mine. Heeseung leaned into me, flashing a dazzling smile to our parents.

“I love y/n too.” It was so innocent. For a long time after that, we never had a problem saying, I love you, to each other. It was just a casual statement between friends. In instances when saying goodbye to each other or times when we would annoy each other, one of us would say, ‘you still love me, don’t you?’ and the other would reply ‘...I still love you.’

It changed when we were older and our peers would make fun of us for saying it so casually. I wasn’t bothered by the teasing, but Heeseung would always try to defend the innocence of our relationship, “Guys, we don’t like each other. We're just friends, this is just how we have always been with each other.” I had already started to develop feelings for him, maybe I was feeling guilty because when I would say, I love you, it wasn’t so much in a platonic way anymore. So one day I drew a line.

“Heeseung, you know I love you, right?” We sat in his living room, relaxing after we came back from school.

“What’s wrong?” I guess my tone didn’t sound too happy, he looked concerned as he looked at me in silence waiting for my answer.

“I think we should stop saying, I love you, to each other...not just in front of our classmates, but probably when we’re alone too.” He sat up straight quickly, pushing his hair back.

“What, why? Is it because of all the teasing?” I couldn’t meet his eyes and tell him the real reason.

“Not really, I’ve just been thinking. We aren’t in love with each other or anything, we’re just friends. When you do end up dating someone, I don’t want to be the problem in your relationship. If I was in their shoes, I think I would be jealous. So...yeah.” I looked back up at him, he looked at me too, seeming to be thinking and searching for something. After the long pause, he slumps back a little and leans his head back, letting out a big sigh.

“If that’s how you feel then we can do that.”

“Hey come on, it’s not like I suddenly stopped caring about you.”

“Ha, yeah.” He gave a small smirk. We continued our evening together with a somewhat awkward atmosphere.

Not long later, I regretted what I said that day. Most people were finished with class cleaning, same for me. I was packing my things, getting ready to leave school with Heeseung like we do every day. Weirdly enough Heeseung usually finishes before me and comes to me first, but he wasn’t here yet. I walk to his classroom after I'm done getting ready, and yet still, I didn’t see him. I asked some of his classmates, “Hey, do you know where Heeseung is?”

“Uh, he left with a girl a little while ago, but he didn’t take his stuff,” one of his classmates answered, pointing to his bag half-packed on his desk, he didn’t take his phone either. Many thoughts flew through my head, but the loudest one was, ‘He’s getting confessed to.’ I pursed my lips and then said my thanks to his classmates and left back to my classroom. I wanted to take his bag, pack it for him, but the thought of finding out that he said yes, I don’t think I could look at him, it would hurt too much.

I sat down on my seat in the now-empty class, laying my head down and covering my head with my arms. ‘A confession doesn’t take long, I’ll wait for 10 minutes max. If he doesn’t come to get me then I’ll just leave.’ I gripped onto my forearms, ‘I should be happy for him if he says yes to her.’ I started to anxiously bounce my leg, ‘Please, come back soon.’ It felt like an eternity left alone with my thoughts. The sounds outside the classroom slowly softened as students continued to leave. Within the muted sounds came pounding footsteps and then the sound of the door slamming open. Startled, my head shoots up from the desk and I look to the door. There he was, bag slung on one shoulder, his breathing irregular from running, a nervous smile on his face as he let out a just as nervous chuckle.

“Thank goodness you're still here, I wasn’t sure if you left without me. And sorry, I had to do something really quick.” His face fell when he saw my face go from shocked to one that was holding back tears, emotional upheaval nearby. “What’s wrong? What happened?” his eyes were filled with concern as he quickly went up to me kneeling in front of my seat. His head now lower than mine, I looked down at him.

“Heeseung,” my voice had a slight tremble. “I- can we go to your place first...I’ll be ready to tell you then.”

“Of course,” he wrapped his arms around my body, it was such a natural gesture. “It’s gonna be okay.” I hoped it was going to be okay and that he wouldn't leave me after this.

"I-I would never leave without you," even though I said only 10 minutes, I would have waited till the sunset, till there was no more hope. With those last words I pull away from him and we walk out of the classroom without another word and made the seemingly long walk home. Finally, at his home, his parents are still at work it seems so we head straight upstairs. He gets into his normal spot on his bed but instead of leaning against the wall, he sits forward, looking at me. My normal spot would be next to him but I just stood in front of his bed. I don't want to make him uncomfortable after what I'm about to tell him.

"Before I say anything else, I just want to confirm something, if you are comfortable with sharing. What did you have to do during cleaning time?" Heeseung processed for a bit and then his eyebrows shot up in realization.

"Oh uh…" he hesitates.

"It's fine if you don't want to share." ‘I'm still gonna say what I have to say regardless of the answer, I thought to myself.’

"No, no, it's just a little weird. I…got confessed to," silence.

"...Ah, I thought that was the case."

"I rejected them!” he retorted. “...sorry, I'm not mad at you, I just-” he sighed while putting his head in his hands. “I don’t want to make this about me, but I need to say something to you too,” he looks back up at me. I was startled but I knew he wasn’t angry at me, but he was obviously in distress.

“It’s okay, Heeseung. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. I just hope I don’t ruin the mood after this. Okay, okay, ...sorry, just a little bit longer,” I say, letting out nervous laughter. I start to pace around his room, nerves getting the best of me. I feel my heart pick up speed and I try to keep my breathing under control, clenching and unclenching my fists. I didn’t realize he got up from the bed till I felt his hand squeeze mine. I look at him, freezing up in his gaze. My thoughts are telling me to run away but the heat from his hand was suffocating against my burning one, and yet I didn't want to let go, the feeling told me to stay.

"Hey, you know. You know... I'll love you no matter what. It's okay." Those words that I want so dearly to be true made my heart stop and my body tremble with trepidation. More than anything I didn't want to lose Heeseung, but I care about him, so I don't want to lie and not tell him how I really feel.

"I love you so much. I- I don't know what to do with myself…" My hand squeezes his back, making his hand quiver along with mine. There was heat building up behind my eyes, vision becoming a little blurry.

"It’s okay, breathe. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“No, you don’t get it,” the tears that had been brimming around my eyes finally fell. “I love you and I always will but for a long time now it’s been more than that. I like-like you, I- I’m in love with you! I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. The thought of you being with someone else hurts...so much, but I’ve been too scared to say anything because I don’t want to lose you.” The words became more unsteady, I tried to stop myself from losing complete control of my emotions. I slowly started to sink to the floor and Heeseung followed me down till we popped to the ground in the middle of his room. While stared into each other’s eyes the entire time, I could see Heeseung’s face change, expressing multiple different emotions, none of them seem good.

“...I’m sorry, I d- I didn’t know. I’m sorry, y/n.” Heeseung pursed his lips, he looked like he was about to cry with me. He lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around my body squeezing me tight, repeating, I’m sorry. Are we both trembling now? It’s hard to tell if it’s just me but I wrap my arms around him too and let it all go, my whimpers and sniffles became full-blown sobs. I don’t know how long we cried for, but eventually, our cries came to a hush. It seems like we cried for a long time together and I feel exhausted.

“Ugh, I kinda feel like I have to throw up.” As an attempt to lighten the mood I joke about the very real condition of my stomach, while I pull away from him. Heeseung sniffles and chuckles.

“Yeah, same here,” we look each other in the eyes again. His hands came up and touched my face wiping away the dampness from my cheeks. Even after gently wiping he still kept his hands there. “I’m sorry, that I was a coward. If I just told you how I felt sooner, much sooner, you wouldn’t have to suffer like that. I’m in love with you too…” He pauses to see my reaction as I process this new information. “Pfft, I thought you would have been happy, why are you crying again?” he teases as he rubs at my face again. Even in a moment like this, we can't stop our bantering.

“Shut up, these are tears of happiness,” I hadn’t even realized more tears fell out, I thought I was all cried out. “We are both cowards though. It feels kinda silly now, we’ve cried this much just to say, I love you. When did it all become so complicated?” I sighed, tilting my head a little.

“I don’t know exactly when I fell for you, but when I realized, I knew I wanted you by my side, always, not like before, not as just friends. But I was afraid of ruining our relationship if you didn’t feel the same way.” I grab his shoulders pushing him down to the ground, straddling his body.

We’re so lame, worrying about the same thing, and in the end, we have nothing to worry about, because we both like each other!” Heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“Correction, love each other.” I purse my lips as I look down on him.

“Yeah, I like you, I love you, I’m in love with you! Happy now?

“Yup,” He gave a sly smirk.

“...Damn, I really want to kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?” ‘Fair enough,’ I thought as I leaned down, closing my eyes, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. I could feel his lips form a smile against mine which made me smile too. I pulled away laughing, the happiness I’m feeling right now seems unreal, but looking at his smile, the reddish color that dusted his cheeks and ears told me just how real it was.

“That was nice,” I say as I remove myself from the top of his body and lay beside him.

“Much better than our first kiss. This time I didn’t have to hide how much I like kissing you.” He turns his body to face mine, propping his head with his hand. My eyes widened at this revelation.

“Wait, you liked me since then?”

“Definitely before then, but yes.”

“Ahh, why were we both so oblivious?!” I bring my hands up to cover my face.

“Hey, at least we know now. I don’t plan on letting you go.”

“Oh, dearest boyfriend of mine, who said I was going anywhere without you?” Heeseung grins from ear to ear.

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m sure all our classmates and friends will love to tease us about this when they find out. Heeseung cringes at that statement, not exactly something to look forward to.

Sure enough, when we came to school the next day we decided we were not going to try and hide anything, and walked to school holding hands, fingers intertwined. The hollers from our friends and classmates made us embarrassed, but explanations would come later. Though what left everyone flabbergasted, myself included, is when we had to part ways, going into our classrooms, Heeseung bent down and tilted my head up towards his and kissed me. It was short and he left me in the hall dumbstruck as he scurried to class. The shouts of everyone watching were lost to my ears. I was so gonna get him later for this.

[viastro]

nobody knows | choi seungcheol

ミ★ synopsis: in which seungcheol is ordered to kill you, the secret daughter of his boss’s rival.

ミ★ genre: mafia!au, assassin!seungcheol, suspense, humor, fluff, some angst

ミ★ warnings: minor character death, mentions of blood and vomit 

ミ★ word count: 7,264

ミ★ pairings: seungcheol x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! it’s been a long time since i’ve written a oneshot, and i definitely did not mean for this to be as long as it is. it’s almost as long as daises omg. i haven’t put out a oneshot in a long time because i was dedicating so much time into finishing remember us, which i did ! so now i’ll be trying to write oneshots as much as i used to :D i’m not really a big fan of how this turned out but i hope you guys enjoy it ! i didn’t wanna scrap it just because i didn’t know how to fix it, so i hope it’s okay <3

“Changwoo has a daughter?” Sunghoon nods his head at the question, smirk taking over his features at this newfound information he’s been given. He glances at his personal assassin.

“I need you to kill her Cheol, as a means to show Changwoo that he shouldn’t harm what’s mine.” 

Seungcheol stares at his boss, knowing that he’s been angry about Changwoo killing his right hand man a few months ago. Having this information on his supposed daughter could either make things worse for the two rivals, or make the other mob boss back off. However, Seungcheol doesn’t get a say in these decisions. He can never choose to save anyone Sunghoon orders him to kill, even though he may want to. All he can say is, 

“Of course, sir.” 

“Thank you! Have a good day.” You say cheerfully, waving goodbye to the customer as they walk out the door, boba in hand. You let out a sigh once the door closes, placing your hands on the edge of the counter to close your eyes for a moment. 

“Yn, are you okay?” Opening your eyes, you look up to see your father’s bodyguard staring at you with a bit of concern laced in his features. You nod your head, giving him a thumbs up. 

“Just a bit tired Wonwoo, but I’m okay. I stayed up too late last night watching dramas again.” You joke, giving Wonwoo a bright smile to try and lessen his worry. He lets out a soft grin, shaking his head at you. “You should be sleeping earlier when you know that you have a shift the next day.” 

You shrug, “I know, but the drama was getting spicy. I highly recommend it’s okay to not be okay.” 

Wonwoo chuckles, telling you he’ll check it out when you guys get home. With that, he turns and walks back over to his table, where he will sit for the rest of your shift as it is his job to protect you when you’re out. 

You don’t know why your father even sends Wonwoo to be with you when you have your shift, or why he cares in the first place. You live in a different house than him, he doesn’t visit you at your apartment, the only time he goes out of his way to speak to you is when it’s your birthday. And even then, it’s just a short phone call.

He’s made it his, thing, to push you away the moment your mother passed when you were in high school. You know of his lifestyle, you know how he earns money, and you know that more than half of South Korea fears him. You may be the heir to one of the largest mafia bosses in South Korea, but you have made it clear you want nothing to do with that life. Your father knows that as well, but he decided to take it a step further and just pretend you don’t even exist.

But he gave you your freedom, as long as Wonwoo is by your side to make sure you’re safe. No one knows of your identity, there’s no knowledge of your father even having a child, but he still wants that extra protection on you. That’s why when you decided to move out of the house and into an apartment, he had Wonwoo go with you. 

He’s been with you for the last three years, even going to your on-campus classes. Wonwoo’s become the talk of the town with the ladies and gents there if we’re being honest. He’s not that much older than you, he has about three years over your head. He started working for your father as a drug runner, then he slowly rose up the ranks when it was discovered that he’s incredibly good with a gun and does martial arts. 

And that’s how you’re here now. At your shift with Wonwoo waiting at the table he always stays at when you work. Perfectly safe and sound.

Or so you thought.

“Do you have a picture of his daughter?” Mingyu asks, taking a sip of water as him and Seungcheol sit in the car in front of the boba shop you work at. Seungcheol nods his head, handing Mingyu the file so that he can look at it.

“Jesus Christ, this photo looks like it was taken ten years ago.” Mingyu mutters, looking at a very young version of you. It’s blurry as well, making it hard for him to get a good look at your features. Seungcheol lets out a sigh, squinting through the tinted car windows to try and look into the shop. “That’s because it was taken ten years ago. No one has seen her since then.”  

“What if she’s cute now? She’s just a couple years younger than you.” Mingyu asks, wiggling his eyebrows jokingly. Seungcheol turns his head and looks at his colleague/best friend, giving him a bored expression. “Did you forget that my mission is to kill her?” 

Mingyu shrugs, turning his head to glance out the window. “No, I remember.” 

“Then why did you ask such a ridiculous question? You know our line of work Mingyu, can’t have anyone in our lives that can make us vulnerable.” Seungcheol reminds the younger, and he nods. Mingyu just stares quietly out the window, feeling slightly upset by the reminder of the life that they live. 

Seungcheol looks at Mingyu for a moment, knowing that he doesn’t enjoy this lifestyle. Didn’t want to get dragged into it, but was desperate for money. Now he’s in too deep, and there’s no signs of getting out of it until he’s older and not of use anymore. Seungcheol can say that he’s the same, except the only way he can get out of this business is for him to die, or to kill his boss and take over. However, he’d never do the latter, no matter how much he wants to.

“Let’s get going now.” Seungcheol states, opening the door and stepping out of the car without another word on the subject. Mingyu lets out a sigh, opening the door to the car and hopping out. He follows after Seungcheol, shoving his phone in his pocket as they walk into the small boba shop. 

You turn around at the sound of the bells from the door, about to flash a big smile at the customers that walked in, only to feel your breath get caught in your throat when you lock eyes with the blonde haired man. 

His eyes are a deep brown. It’s the first thing you notice about him, and you can’t seem to find yourself backing down from his intense stare. In fact, you don’t want to, and Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at that. 

“It’s definitely her.” Mingyu mutters under his breath, pretending that he’s telling Seungcheol what he wants to order. However, his friend doesn’t answer him. Mingyu opens his mouth to repeat what he said, only to turn his head to find Seungcheol staring directly back at you with a glint in his eyes that he can’t seem to decipher. 

“Yn, it’s time for your break.” You snap out of the intense staring contest with the handsome man when Chanhee steps out from the back, preparing to take over for you. You give him a smile, “Thanks Chanhee.” 

“Of course yn. Oh, by the way, are you going to get food from next door?” You purse your lips as you think for a moment, before shrugging. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great, can you get me the greek fries? I’ll pay you back.” You laugh, reaching out and patting your pink haired coworker, giving him a thumbs up. 

Seungcheol watches the whole interaction in a dazed state, and Mingyu is left standing beside him incredibly confused. Mingyu’s never seen Seungcheol like this before, usually when they’re out on a job he’s stoic and swift. However, Seungcheol just stands there staring as you turn back around to glance at him, giving him a small smile before walking into the breakroom. Now out of sight. 

“Are you oka-”

“We can’t kill her.” Seungcheol murmurs, turning to look at Mingyu with a serious expression on his face. Mingyu’s eyes widen at the absurd confession, one that he never thought he’d hear Seungcheol make. “I beg your pardon?” 

“We can’t-”

“Are you guys ready to order?” Chanhee asks the two with a grin on his face, and they immediately change their attitudes, flashing the man a smile. Mingyu walks up to the counter first, looking up at the menu before beginning to order. “Yes. I’ll have the hokkaido milk tea.”

All while Wonwoo watches from the table, eyeing Seungcheol suspiciously as he drinks the fruit tea you made him. 

“Hi! Welcome to Tsukki Tea!” You greet cheerfully, looking up from the register to see the handsome man from a week before. Your eyes widen slightly, and the blonde haired man tilts his head at you. 

“Are you ready to order?” You ask slowly, unable to look away from his face. You didn’t comprehend how handsome he was at his last visit due to you having to go on your break, but now that you’re getting a good look at him, he’s incredibly attractive. 

“I’ll have the brown sugar milk tea.” The blonde says, and you feel your knees wobble at his deep voice. You nod your head, putting his order into the system as you hear your heart beat rapidly within your chest. 

“Your friend isn’t with you today?” You ask as he pays for the drink, initiating small talk. He freezes slightly, glancing up at you, “Huh?”

“Your friend. The really tall one from last week, I noticed he wasn’t with you today.” You explain, a nervous smile appearing on your face due to how much you regret asking him the question. He lets out an, ah, before shaking his head. 

“He has work today so I came on my own.” He answers, giving you a reassuring smile, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks at the pretty sight. You immediately glance back down at the touchscreen, ripping his receipt and holding it out towards the handsome man. 

“Can I have a name for your order?” You ask, and he gives you a grin. “My name is Seungcheol.” 

You nod your head, writing his name down on the cup. You can’t help but think that his name is pretty as well, quietly muttering it to yourself as you put the cap back onto the pen. Seungcheol notices this, and bites the inside of his cheek, thinking of how precious you are. 

“Your order will be ready shortly.” You tell him, and Seungcheol nods his head. He walks over to an empty table, sitting down and pulling out his phone to check his messages. 

Seungcheol told Sunghoon that he needed some time to scope you out. To understand your schedule, and find out when you’re alone. He was lucky that his boss believed it, but what he doesn’t know is that Seungcheol isn’t doing any of that. 

The assassin just wants to get to know you. 

When Seungcheol told Mingyu the first day they saw you that he can’t kill you, Mingyu didn’t believe him. He thought it was just from lack of sleep, or he was just pranking him. However, he came to find out that it wasn’t from either of those reasons at all. That Seungcheol was serious.

“You’re never like this Cheol, why can’t you kill her? It’s never been hard for you before.” Mingyu says, taking a sip from his boba as they drive back to headquarters. Seungcheol just stares silently out the window, biting his finger as he thinks of why he can’t kill you. 

He doesn’t have an answer to that.

“I haven’t found the answer yet.” Seungcheol simply responds, and Mingyu turns to glance at him with a flabbergasted expression on his face. 

“WHAT?!” 

“I’ll figure it out along the way.” Seungcheol mutters, still wondering why his heartbeat quickens when he thinks of your bright smile. Mingyu just scoffs, leaning back into the driver’s seat. 

“I know that I said she might be cute and insinuated that you fall in love with her, but it was absolutely a joke. What if the boss finds out that you aren’t actually going to kill her?” Mingyu asks, and Seungcheol purses his lips at the reminder. He lets out a sigh, frowning as he thinks of an excuse to give him. 

“I got it.” 

“Do you?”

“Probably not.”

“Seungcheol!”

Wonwoo glares at the mysterious man from across the shop, wondering what his intentions are with you. He tilts his head to the side, glancing back at his phone while he wonders why the name Seungcheol seems so familiar to him. 

You take the finished boba out from the machine that adds the plastic seal, walking over to the counter. You grab a straw and place it on top of the lid, “Order for Seungcheol!” 

The man in question turns towards you at the call of his name, letting out a small smile. He stands up from the table, walking over to you and gratefully taking the boba. 

“I hope you enjoy it, Seungcheol.” You say softly, and he takes notice of the twinkle in your gaze. 

“What’s your name?” He asks, smiling down at you.

You glance up at the man with your eyes slightly widened, having not expected him to ask a question. He tilts his head to the side in amusement, and you let out a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“My name is yn.” You answer, and he nods his head.

“Well, thank you for the boba yn. I’ll be sure to enjoy it since you made it for me.” Seungcheol says in a sweet tone, causing you to smile. You wave bye to him as he steps out, and he waves back at you before closing the door. You let out a sigh once he’s out of the shop, resting a hand over your beating heart. 

“He’s too handsome.” You mumble, before turning towards the sink. Wonwoo watches as you begin to clean the station, small smile on your face as you do so, and he feels himself growing more concerned. 

“I gotta find out who he is.”

“Seungcheol, it’s been close to three weeks. Why isn’t the girl dead yet?” Sunghoon asks as Seungcheol cleans his gun quietly. He freezes slightly, before quickly relaxing, turning to glance up at his boss. 

In complete honesty, Seungcheol is shitting his pants at the moment. Him and Mingyu have been planning on how to not kill yn without letting their boss know, and they don’t really have a good idea. However, Seungcheol spends his days going to visit you at the boba shop. The conversations between you and him continue to grow longer each time he goes. To the point that he waits for you to get on your break so that the two of you can spend it getting to know each other. 

He’s discovered that you started working at the boba shop because of your serious addiction towards the drink, and that you wanted to learn how to make it yourself. He’s also learned that you’re allergic to bees, yet you love flowers and nature with a passion. Seungcheol finds you to be rather endearing, especially when you brightly tell him stories.

While you’ve learned that Seungcheol is a very simple guy. He enjoys working out in his spare time, and would like to own a dog. You asked him why he hasn’t adopted one yet, but he just gave you a small smile, shaking his head and saying that it’s not the time for him to get one.

“She has a bodyguard on hand at all times, I wouldn’t want to cause a bigger mess.” Seungcheol lies with ease after a second of thinking, and the man before him squints slightly. He leans forward towards the assassin, the power and influence he has radiating off of him in waves. 

“Since when has making a mess been a concern to you, Seungcheol?” Sunghoon asks in an icey tone, and Seungcheol stops wiping the cloth over his silencer. He glances up at his boss, keeping eye contact as they practically stare each other down. 

“Do I need to remind you of who you work for?” Seungcheol hears his heartbeat in his ears, knowing damn well what his boss is capable of. He’s known since he was a child. So Seungcheol shakes his head, visibly backing down from the oncoming fight that was going to break out. 

“Good. I want her dead by the end of next week Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, but hear me out.” You begin, and Seungcheol watches you with an amused smile. You lean forward in your seat, staring directly into his pretty eyes, causing a small blush to form on his cheeks. 

“Bigfoot.”

“No.”

“But Cheol! They have to be real.” You state, and the latter just shakes his head at you, taking a sip of the boba you made for him before you went on your break. He lets out a breath, “Yn, if bigfoot was real, then someone would’ve caught them by now. There’s no way a creature with big ass feet and is apparently really tall wouldn’t have been captured by now.” 

This is one of the many ridiculous conversations you and Seungcheol have had since the two of you have gotten closer. Seungcheol looks like the epitome of relaxed as the two of you converse, but what you don’t know is that there’s a storm running within him as he realizes what he has to do the longer he stares into your bright eyes.

You frown at the handsome man, leaning back into your seat with a pout on your lips. Seungcheol coos at you, reaching out to squeeze your cheek, and you slap his hand away. He lets out a hiss of pain even though it didn’t hurt, rubbing the back of his hand. You try not to peek, but when Seungcheol begins blowing on the area you hit, you can’t help but look up. 

You reach out and take his hand, and Seungcheol’s eyes widen when you pull it towards you, blowing softly on the back of his hand. Warmth rises to his cheeks, as do yours, but you both pretend that you’re not at all flustered by the action. After a moment, you glance up at Seungcheol, “Are you okay now?” 

He immediately looks away from the direct eye contact, feeling too shy to even sputter any words. You let out a smile at the sight, softly resting his hand back onto the table. Seungcheol mutters a quiet, thanks, and you chuckle, finishing the last of your boba. 

“I still think bigfoot is real.” You pettily mutter, and Seungcheol lets out a laugh. 

“In your dreams, yn.” 

Wonwoo watches from his table, pursing his lips at the sight of you and Seungcheol having gotten so close in a matter of a few weeks. He still doesn’t know anything about Seungcheol, having not done any research as of late. However, he leans back in his seat, now decided on what he has to do.

Seungcheol’s about to step into the boba shop when he’s grabbed by a hand and pulled into the alley. He immediately reaches for the gun in his waistband, only to freeze when he realizes that it’s no longer in his possession. His eyes slowly trail up, and he finds your bodyguard standing in front of him, his own silencer held in his hands, pointed directly towards Seungcheol’s head.

“So you work for Sunghoon, huh?” Wonwoo asks, not breaking eye contact with Seungcheol. Wonwoo did some digging, because he knew Seungcheol’s name was all too familiar. Which was when he discovered that Seungcheol is Sunghoon’s personal assassin. His boss’s rival mafia leader.

“You did a background check, Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asks, and the latter shrugs, chuckling darkly. 

“I can’t let yn get hurt.” Wonwoo states, squinting at the assassin standing before him. Seungcheol shakes his head, “I’m not going to kill yn.”

“Bullshit. You never pull back from a job, I saw it in my search on you.” Wonwoo exclaims, moving to turn the safety off when Seungcheol raises his hands up in surrender. “I’m really not. I plan to kill Sunghoon to protect yn.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen slightly, before squinting again. “And how do I know you’re not lying?” 

Seungcheol stares into Wonwoo’s eyes, hoping that his honesty shines through his gaze. He lets out a breath, “Cause I would’ve killed her by now. I know you did your research on me, you should know that all my victims died by my hand in 1-2 days after the assignment was given to me.”

Wonwoo does know that Seungcheol’s assignments would die in a matter of days when they were first presented. That’s why this information causes him to hesitate for a moment, but it doesn't make him remove his finger from the trigger. 

“What do you want with yn?” Wonwoo asks, and Seungcheol surprises the black haired man by giving him a small smile. 

“I want her to live peacefully like she is now. I want her to be happy.” 

The two stare each other down after Seungcheol’s confession, thinking to themselves. It’s after a minute or so that Wonwoo lets his arm fall to his side, turning the safety back on. Seungcheol almost sighs in relief, only to visibly pause when he catches Wonwoo still squinting at him. 

“So, what’s your plan?” Wonwoo asks, handing the silencer back to Seungcheol. He quickly puts it back in the waistband of his jeans, before giving your bodyguard an amused grin. “What? You gonna help me kill my own boss?” 

Wonwoo shrugs, finally cracking a smile. “It’ll keep yn safe, and it’ll also give me brownie points with my own boss. I don’t see why not.” 

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He leans back onto the brick wall of the alleyway, finding himself enjoying Wonwoo’s company even though he did almost die because of him. Seungcheol glances up at the dark sky, seeing the stars shining brightly. 

“I’m killing him at midnight.” He breathes out, and Wonwoo nods his head. He looks at his watch, seeing that it’s 8:50 pm, meaning you’ll be getting off your shift in a few minutes. So they have to wrap up this conversation soon.

“Well, you gonna pick me up later or what?” Wonwoo asks, and Seungcheol laughs quietly. He nods his head, glancing back down at the black haired man, finding him smiling as well. “Of course, it would be rude of me not to drive around the man who offered to help me kill a mafia leader.” 

“Ah yes, finally. A man with morals.”

Seungcheol and Mingyu step into the building, calmly walking towards the elevators to get to Sunghoon’s office. Wonwoo stayed behind in the car, where he’s currently hacking into the security system so that he can cut off the video feed when the deed is done. He’s already erasing the data of Mingyu and Seungcheol even being in the building in the first place.

“You think he’s gonna put up a fight?” Mingyu asks quietly, and Seungcheol scoffs. 

“Of course he is, but do you think he can win?” Mingyu ponders the question for a moment, before turning to Seungcheol and flashing him a mischievous smile. “Against the best assassin in Seoul? No.” 

“Checking the video feed now.” Wonwoo mutters into his mic, typing into his laptop. Seungcheol and Mingyu say a quick response back, continuing to walk towards the office.

Wonwoo goes through the video feed, trying to see if Sunghoon is just in his office like Seungcheol claimed he would be. Only to freeze when he sees who else is in the room with the powerful man. Wonwoo panics, immediately moving to speak into the mic when the connection gets cut out. 

“NO!” Wonwoo yells, watching with wide eyes as Mingyu and Seungcheol walk right into the room. 

Seungcheol and Mingyu look like the definition of ease when they step into the room, with Mingyu even cracking a smile at Sunghoon. Seungcheol opens his mouth to greet their boss, only to stop when he looks towards the chair by the desk, catching your frightened eyes.

There’s a towel stuffed in your mouth, preventing you from talking. There’s tear tracks on your cheeks, and your wrists are zip tied behind your back as you cry silently in fear. Sunghoon lets out a smile at the sight of his assassin standing in pure shock, head cocking to the side. 

“Took you too long to kill her, so I got impatient.” Sunghoon slyly explains, glancing over at you with a cheeky grin. You look away immediately, closing your eyes as more tears fall from them. You begin to regret letting Wonwoo go out for the night, or else you wouldn’t even be in this situation at the moment. 

“Yn, I need to be somewhere tonight. Is it okay if you stay home alone? I promise to be back in a couple hours.” Wonwoo tells you, and you peek your head out from the kitchen, glancing at the bodyguard who suddenly looks timid. You let out a happy smile, happy that Wonwoo is finally going out to do something. 

Since he was assigned to be your bodyguard, he hasn’t had a day or night to himself. Never even asked you for one, so obviously you’re going to let him. You nod your head, bouncing over to him with a big smile on your face, causing Wonwoo to raise an eyebrow at you. 

“Did you want me to leave that bad?” Wonwoo teases, and you slap his shoulder with a chuckle. 

“No! You just haven’t gone out without me since you became my bodyguard. Which was three years ago…” You trail off, having not realized how long it’s been. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, trying to hide the fact that the reason he’s going out is still for your safety. 

“Don’t pity me now. I enjoy my time with you, yn.” 

“Do you have friends, Wonwoo?” Wonwoo glares at you, having not appreciated the question. He slips on his shoes, turning and heading towards the door. You let out a laugh at his reaction, waving bye to him. 

“Remember to lock the door after I leave and turn on the alarm. Don’t answer the door, no one should even be knocking on it anyways. If anything happens, call me or your dad, okay?” You nod your head, and Wonwoo lets out a nervous breath. He glances up at you one more time, feeling his heart pound as he hopes you’ll be safe with him gone. 

“I’ll be back soon, yn.” And with that, Wonwoo walks out the door. 

It’s only within an hour of being alone that you hear a knock on your door, and you cautiously reach for your phone when you hear it again. Your hand wraps around your phone, only to freeze when you hear the locks turn and the door opens. You quickly run to your room, locking the door quietly behind you and rushing under your bed. You make sure the sheet underneath the mattress shields your body from view, before pulling out your phone in the cramped space. You move to text Wonwoo, only to freeze when you hear the doorknob jiggle. 

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you worry that the assailant can hear it from how silent it is in your apartment. You quickly turn on your phone, managing to pull up your conversation with Wonwoo when the door unlocks, and you freeze in fear. You turn off your phone so that the light won’t show from underneath your bed, and you stay as silent as you can as you hear the person’s shoes step around your bedroom. 

You watch as the person moves to walk out of your room, but you don’t dare make a sound until you can no longer hear their footsteps. You’re about to let out a quiet breath of relief, pulling up your phone to text Wonwoo when the person lifts up the sheet, staring directly at you with a smile on his face.

“Hello, yln yn.”

“Boss-” Seungcheol begins, only for Sunghoon to raise a hand up to stop him from speaking. The pieces slowly come together as to why he couldn’t get a dog, why he always redirected the conversation when asked about his life. Seungcheol catches your eyes, and he sees the betrayal in your gaze. He mouths that it’s going to be okay, and you look down at your legs, wanting nothing more than to leave. 

“Care to explain why I heard plans of you and Mingyu trying to kill me?” Sunghoon asks, eyes squinting at the two. Mingyu stiffens beside Seungcheol, and your eyes widen, beginning to wonder if Seungcheol is actually on your side. 

Seungcheol and Mingyu don’t respond for a second. With Mingyu internally panicking about whether or not he should lie, and Seungcheol pondering on how to answer the question. However, Seungcheol decides not to answer it, instead pulling out his silencer from his waistband in a matter of seconds, pointing it directly at his boss’s head.

Mingyu steps over to you as Seungcheol and Sunghoon stare each other down. You look at Seungcheol’s friend from the day they first stepped into the boba shop, and he gives you an apologetic smile. Mingyu reaches into his waistband, pulling out his knife, beginning to cut off your zip tie. “Sorry to meet you on such bad terms, Cheol has told me a lot about you.” 

“I didn’t believe it when I caught wind of the rumor. After all these years, you’re going to kill me just like that? Over our rival’s daughter?” Sunghoon asks, eyes not faltering from Seungcheol. He stands up from the table at Seungcheol’s silence, letting out a smile at the fact that Seungcheol hasn’t pulled the trigger.

“For yn?” Seungcheol begins, and you glance up at the blonde. He locks eyes with you for a moment, letting out a breath. Seungcheol turns back towards Sunghoon, squinting at the man. “Anything.” 

“You’re not really going to kill me for her, right Seungcheol?” 

Seungcheol lets out a breath, before turning the safety off the gun. You watch the confrontation unfold with wide eyes as Mingyu works on cutting the ropes wrapped around your legs and the chair. 

“I’ve always hated you.” Seungcheol mutters, pressing his finger to the trigger. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, “You wish I just left you at that crack house where I found you? Seungcheol, I made you-”

“You made me into a monster!” Seungcheol shouts, hand shaking as he points the gun towards his boss’s head. Mingyu and you jump slightly at the raise of his voice, having not expected Seungcheol to lose his temper. Mingyu quickly takes off your gag, and you stand up from the chair, holding onto the back of Mingyu’s shirt as the two of you try to silently leave the room.

“You made me into a man that kills people, for your own gain.” Sunghoon listens in silence, watching Seungcheol's hand tremble. The blonde blinks back tears, feeling all the pain he’s hidden slowly pouring out as he stares at the man who practically raised him. He takes a deep breath, before applying more pressure to the trigger.

“That’s why I’m going to kill you for my own.” Seungcheol states, about to pull the trigger when Sunghoon knocks the gun out of his hands. Seungcheol reaches out to grab it quickly, but Sunghoon is faster as he kicks Seungcheol in the stomach unexpectedly, winding him in the process. Sunghoon grabs the gun in the short time that Seungcheol is out of it, and raises it into the air.

“Did you forget I taught you everything you know, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol’s eyes stare at the gun pointed in his direction. You and Mingyu are frozen in place, with Mingyu’s hand resting over his own gun in the waistband of his pants. 

“Drop the gun onto the floor Mingyu, or else he dies.” Sunghoon threatens, and Mingyu glares. Seungcheol nods his head at Mingyu, and the latter slowly rests the gun onto the carpeted floor, before glancing back up at Sunghoon.

“Yn and Mingyu didn’t do anything, just kill me.” Seungcheol says, and Sunghoon shoots him a glance. He rolls his eyes, and you feel your breath hitch when he adjusts his hold on the gun.

“You’re right. However, remember what you learned?” Sunghoon asks, and Seungcheol feels his heart sink. The mafia boss chuckles at his silence, letting out a breath.”You know this Seungcheol, it’s the first thing I taught you when you were a kid. The loved ones always pay the price.” Sunghoon states, letting out a laugh at the harsh glare the blonde is throwing his way. He tilts his head to the side, before glancing over at you, finding delight in the fear on your face.

“Goodbye, yn.” 

Seungcheol shouts when Sunghoon quickly turns the gun in your direction, reaching out to stop him, while Mingyu moves to shield your body with his.

The loud sound of the gunshot echoes around the room, and you’re holding Mingyu’s shirt tightly in your hands. Your eyes slowly open at the sound of a body falling to the floor, and you look up to see Mingyu still standing safe and sound. Both of your eyes widen at the same time, and you turn to find Sunghoon slumped to the floor, blood pouring out of his lifeless body. 

You glance up to see Seungcheol staring at the door, and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing there, gun held in his hands. He slumps onto the door frame, letting out a tired sigh.

“God damn it you guys. I told you to move in on my signal, yet when the connection cut out, the two of you still went inside.” Wonwoo complains, reaching his hand up and wiping away the beads of sweat that formed from sprinting all the way here. Seungcheol lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. Mingyu lets out a breath of relief, walking over to Seungcheol to ask if he’s okay. All while you just stand there, suddenly realizing that there’s a dead body right in front of you. 

“O-oh my God.” You mutter as your vision slowly goes in and out, and Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he remembers that you’re incredibly sensitive to blood. Everything fades to black and you begin to fall, causing Wonwoo to take a step forward in an attempt to catch you.

However, Seungcheol’s faster as he runs over and wraps his arms around you, catching your passed out body before you hit the floor. He sighs, moving the strands of hair that rest on your face. He turns towards Wonwoo and Mingyu, finding them also feeling relieved at the fact that he caught you. 

Wonwoo lets out a breath after a moment, glancing over towards the dead body. He pulls out his phone and begins to take pictures, causing Mingyu to raise an eyebrow at the odd behavior. Seungcheol also stares at Wonwoo, but he knows why he’s documenting the experience.

“Don’t worry Mingyu, I’m just doing this so that my boss gives me brownie points.” Wonwoo mutters, before deciding that he’s taken enough. He quickly sends it to your father, before pocketing his phone and looking up at the three of you.

“Let’s bring yn home.” 

You wake up to the smell of fried rice, and you feel your stomach grumble at the scent. Letting out a sigh, you reach up and rub your eyes, only to freeze when all the memories from the night before resurface. You sit up in bed, only to pause when you register the hand gripping yours. You turn your head, finding the familiar head of blonde hair resting on the edge of your bed. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, wondering why he stayed with you as you slept. The question gets answered once you look up and see Wonwoo leaning against your doorframe, taking a bite of a strawberry as he gives you a small smile. 

“You were having nightmares on the way back, so Seungcheol wanted to stay by your side to make sure they weren’t too bad. Guess he fell asleep though.” Wonwoo explains, and you feel your heart warm slightly. You run a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling the need to vomit at the memory of Sunghoon’s dead body. 

Wonwoo’s way ahead of you, as he is now walking over with a garbage bag. You silently thank him, clutching the plastic with a tight fist as you try to forget the visual. Seungcheol stirs in his sleep, holding your hand a bit tighter as he pouts. The sight calms you down, and you let out a quiet coo. 

“Your dad plans to visit later to make sure that you’re okay, by the way.” You nod your head at the newfound information. For some reason, you never expected that getting kidnapped and almost murdered would get your father to come and visit you. 

but alas...

“Do you approve of Seungcheol, Wonwoo?” You ask quietly, choosing to let go of the plastic bag in order to softly pat Seungcheol’s sleeping head. Wonwoo shrugs, tilting his head to the side. 

“He killed his own mafia boss in order to protect you. I’d say that’s more than enough to consider him as a good guy.” Wonwoo answers, and you let out a smile. With that, Wonwoo walks out of the room, now out of earshot. 

“Wake up, you’ve been approved.” You mutter, patting Seungcheol’s head. He opens one eye, glancing up at you with a small smile. 

“How’d you know I was awake?” Seungcheol asks, and you shrug in response. It’s a trick you don’t think you want him to know yet. He lets out a smile, squeezing your hand once again. He lets out a tired yawn, letting go of your hand in order to stretch his arms above his head.

“What will happen to you and Mingyu now? You did kill a man who has a lot of power in South Korea after my father.” Seungcheol leans back into his seat, not wanting to remind you that Wonwoo was the one who actually killed Sunghoon in order to not let the image come back into your mind. 

“Mingyu and I did a lot of digging, that’s where we found out most of the people working under Sunghoon hated him. By most I mean around 90%, by the way.” Seungcheol explains, and you let out a quiet, ah. “So they were fine with you killing Sunghoon?” 

Seungcheol nods his head, “Precisely.” 

“What about the other ten percent?” You ask. Seungceol opens his mouth to respond, only to stop when he sees Mingyu and Wonwoo standing in the doorway. You raise an eyebrow at the sight of Mingyu wearing your apron, but you decide to close your eyes. 

“Breakfast is ready.” Mingyu announces, and the two flash you and Seungcheol a mischievous smile before stepping back out of your room. You let out a sigh, turning back towards Seungcheol. 

“Guess we’ll find out, mm? For now, let’s go and eat breakfast.” Seungcheol says, and you purse your lips, before nodding in agreement. You climb out of your bed, leading the way towards the dining table to find Mingyu and Wonwoo already eating without you two. 

“Rude, didn’t even wait for us.” You tease, and Wonwoo chuckles. 

“Not our fault you and the new mafia leader are slow.” Mingyu responds, taking a sip of his coffee. You squint at the latter, and he just flashes you a smile. 

“Ew, don’t call me that Mingyu.” Seungcheol mumbles, taking a bite of the fried rice that was prepared. 

“I’ll call you what I want to, leader.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“How could you say that in front of your future girlfrie-” 

And with that, Seungcheol launches himself across the table, causing the two to start wrestling on your wooden floor. Wonwoo and you let out a sigh, turning to each other and smiling. 

“What a strange breakfast.” You mutter, no hint of malice behind your smile as you and Wonwoo watch the two fake fight on the floor. You tilt your head, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh when he sees no sign of them stopping. 

“I’ll stop them.” Wonwoo mumbles, getting up from his chair and walking over to the two. He pats his elbow, then jumps onto them, eliciting a loud groan from Seungcheol and Mingyu. You giggle quietly, shaking your head and taking a sip of water at the chorus of complaints of how sharp Wonwoo’s elbow is from Seungcheol. 

You tried to get out of the mafia life your father lives by moving out. That obviously didn’t work as you have a new mafia leader on the floor of your dining room who saved your life the night before. However, the longer you stare at Seungcheol as he laughs with Mingyu and Wonwoo, you find yourself rather grateful for the events that unfolded since meeting Seungcheol. 

He turns and catches your gaze, immediately smiling at you. He waves you over so that you can help him up off the floor, and you roll your eyes. You stand up from the chair and walk over to him, extending your hand out towards the man. 

“Can’t even lift yourself up off the floor?” You tease, and Seungcheol rolls his eyes. He takes your hand, and you pull him up off the floor. 

“Gives me an excuse to hold your hand.” Seungcheol responds cheekily, and you scoff at his answer, although the rising warmth to your face clearly says otherwise. Mingyu and Wonwoo glance at each other, both taking turns to make vomit noises at the two of you. 

“Get a ROOM!” 

“Disgusting.” 

“Not my fault you guys are lonely!” You shout back, and Wonwoo squints at you. 

“It is your fault.”

“Shhh.”

“Yn!” 

“Wonwoo!” Seungcheol grins when you and Wonwoo begin to squabble, letting out a happy sigh. Mingyu stands up from the floor, letting out a sigh at the sight of you and Wonwoo arguing.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mingyu yells, raising his hand up, causing you and Wonwoo to pause mid-argument. You both turn to glance at Mingyu, finding him and Seungcheol staring at the two of you with amused looks on their faces.

“Eat now, argue later.” Mingyu states, and you and Wonwoo share a look, before moving and sitting back down in your seats to continue eating. 

“It is your fault, by the way.” Wonwoo mutters, and you glare at him. Seungcheol snickers behind his hand, taking a spoonful of fried rice to stop the noise from escaping. 

“Fuck you, Wonwoo.”

“How could you say that in front of your future boyfr-” And with that, it’s now your turn to launch yourself across the table and onto Wonwoo. 

Mingyu lets out a tired sigh, choosing to ignore the loud bickering from behind him. While Seungcheol chuckles at the sight, finding himself at peace for the first time. 

seungcheol was finally able to save someone. 

You let out a giggle at Wonwoo’s pained expression from falling backwards onto the floor, and Seungcheol feels his heart warm from the sound.

and this time, it was you.

[ohsotwistedwords]

Polybius

By Snapdragon

          It was July when the machine came in. My father had ordered some new arcade cabinets for his arcade; it’d been his dream to run one since he was little and then he was teaching me how to run it so one day I’d inherit it. So, I was working on maintenance and helping him with his finances. But, I wanted a more fun job when the cabinets came in. I’ve always been a kid at heart. Video games and dumb stunts were my thing back then, and I always wore the bruises proudly. So, when dad boasted he’d gotten a rare, one of a kind, arcade cabinet I had to get my hands on it. 

          “We should test it out, make sure it’s actually fun.” I’d said. I was hoping he’d say yes. Summer was almost over and I’d have to go back to mom when she moved back home, after living in France for two years as a tour guide. “Cain, we’ll find out how well-liked it is later. We don’t need to test it.” He said with a grin. “Well, I want to. Maybe it doesn’t even work— if it’s so rare, there must be a reason like the machine breaking down.” I said. “Or maybe there just weren’t that many of them made. Besides, Joey wouldn’t sell me a broken machine.” He said. “Dad, please.” I said. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You can play after we finish moving the machines in.” He said.

          Moving the machines in was easy. It was kind of strange, putting them in place of the older machines I’d grown up with like Pac Man and Tempest. Polybius, the arcade cabinet, was certainly different in appearance. It was a black arcade cabinet instead of an eye-catchingly bright color. On it, outlines of neon green triangles and circles decorated the side. If I had to pick an arcade cabinet to compare it to, in terms of how plain it looked, I’d probably say Tempest— albeit hesitantly. Even Tempest is more eye-catching than Polybius.

          When the moving was finished, my father went home. We lived right next door to the arcade, so he wasn’t concerned about leaving me behind. So, I booted up the cabinet and took out a stack of quarters and put one in the machine. It booted up beautifully, but the graphics were all geometrical shapes. I played as a triangle, and fired at two triangles superimposed on each other. The two triangles put out circles and squares, which my small triangle had to shoot before being hit. But, it was… out of place. Colors and complex patterns covered the screen each level I cleared, and the lights flashed. I was on a high level, with blue and green lights and a moving diamond overlay when I glanced at the time. 

         It was one in the morning, which was strange. It had only been four PM when I finished moving the machines, and yet I couldn’t remember when my feet started to ache or that I’d beaten more than five levels. Stranger still was that my father hadn’t called me home, but when I asked the next morning he told me I’d been home. I’d come and grabbed more quarters, and something to eat. I didn’t remember any of that, but I’d found another roll of quarters in my pockets and my clothes smelled like hoagies. 

          The apparent amnesia was common when I played, but I chalked it up to having fun. After all, time flies when you’re having fun and I had difficulty remembering what I was doing if I was thinking about something else. I thought I just enjoyed Polybius, and that was why I kept going back when I finished work and playing for hours. I couldn’t sleep, either, but I chalked it up to thinking about the arcade cabinet constantly. I wanted to play badly; something was drawing me in. It didn’t help that I only had one friend, Kyler. It wasn’t that I was disagreeable, but rather that I didn’t care how many friends I had. My parents were divorced, sure, but I had a good family, a good job, and a future. Life was good. If only it stayed that way.

          I didn’t know anything was wrong until I came out of my Polybius-induced stupor and Kyler was there. Which was strange; Kyler was blind. I would play arcade games with him, sure, but I’d have to guide him the whole time by telling him where to move. Seeing him adapt to that was always interesting, but even I had trouble determining where things were in Polybius. And besides, he liked calmer games like Pokémon where he could memorize layouts and only needed occasional updates on what was around him. 

          But, while I stared and wondered where he came from, the triangle he was playing as was blown up by a rogue square. He didn’t speak to me as he inserted another quarter and kept playing. He got hit almost immediately. The silence was odd— if I didn’t say anything, he’d say something to me and tease me for missing something or not talking fast enough. So, I put my hand on his shoulder.

          “Kyler? When did you get here?” I asked. He spun around, eyes just slightly off from where I was. “What do you mean? You called me and told me to come here?” He asked. Then he paused and took out his phone. At the press of a button, it started reading off his notifications and the time. It was six in the morning, and he’d had seventeen missed calls from his mom and dad. “Six in the morning?! I could’ve sworn it’d only been five minutes…” he said. “I don’t remember calling you; when did you get here?” I asked. He paused again, then rubbed his face. “Uh… seven, maybe seven-thirty. Shit. I need to go home.” He said. I knew he lived a few blocks away, and I didn’t want him walking home alone at night. Not with his white cane, which I couldn’t help but think would mark him as a target for would-be muggers. “Let me drive you home. It’s pretty late.” I said. He agreed, and we got in the car.

         “Cain, I kind of remember a little bit now. Not much, but… the cabinet apparently spoke, I think.” He said halfway to his house. “It did?” I wouldn’t doubt it, even if I couldn’t remember it speaking. With a little more effort, though, I remembered faint words on the screen, though the memory was too blurry to make them out. “It did.” He said with a sigh. I was very concerned, at that moment, that I couldn’t remember what just happened or that Kyler and I had been hanging out for almost twelve hours. Or could only remember a picture of the machine and not even know when I saw it.

          Either way, I had work in an hour and a half. And I wasn’t even tired. I tried not to think about Polybius, not to play it again, but I found myself inserting a quarter into the machine as soon as I was done with work. With a quarter already in the machine, I resigned myself to playing just a little bit. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I came to in some tunnels underground. Kyler was there, arm linked in mine and his free arm sweeping the ground with his cane. I didn’t even know there were tunnels under the town. Neither did Kyler. We wandered for hours, and exited the tunnels about an hour later. 

          Days had apparently passed from the time we played the arcade cabinet and we ended up in the tunnels. We were declared missing in the time we didn’t remember, and our  parents were upset. Kyler’s, because they thought he’d been kidnapped, and my father because he assumed I got hurt and stranded alone somewhere. He was mad when I told him I didn’t know what happened, that Kyler and I ended up in some tunnels under the town. He said there were no tunnels, that I was lying. I know I wasn’t, and I knew I wasn’t lying then either. I saw things, then. Shapes, mostly, flitting across my vision and people in my peripheral vision who weren’t even there. It went away after I slept. And things like that just keep happening.

          I have to destroy the machine.

          So, I stand with a baseball bat I’d hidden in the supply closet. The machine flashes to life, as if it knows I’m here. “Salutations, Cain.” The words appear on the screen. I take a step closer as my arms and legs feel like jello. I just have to get in one good hit, one good hit and this nightmare is over. But, then, against my will the bat falls out of my hands and clatters to the floor. My legs move of their own accord, and I stand in front of the machine. “You think you can mock me, Cain? I cannot be destroyed so easily.”

          I’m curled up in a corner, next thing I know, and I’m being shaken. “Cain, have you been here all night?! You had me worried sick!” It’s my father. “What time is it?” I ask. My words are slurred, and it feels like there are dull needles just behind my eyes. But I’m still not tired. “It’s eight in the morning!” He says. I’ve been here for… over twelve hours. Have I been in this corner all night? It can’t be; my limbs aren’t stiff. “Are you sure you’re good to work today? You’re really out of it, Cain.” My father says. I look around; the baseball bat is nowhere to be found. “Uh… y-yeah, I think so.” I say.

          So, I stand and get to work opening up. Footsteps shuffle behind me. “Maybe taking the day off would be good for you. I don’t think you’re up for working today.” My father says. I shake my head and refrain from wincing at the ache it causes. “I’ll be fine. Just need to move around a bit.” I say as I unlock the front door, our early gamers already waiting outside. Well, I suppose it’s less that they’re early and more that we’re half an hour late. I stick near Polybius today, and what strikes me more than anything is the long line. It’s so orderly it’s baffling, and then anyone who has played stumbles out quietly. Without touching another arcade cabinet. Maybe the machine is affecting more than just me. The thought sends chills down my spine. It feels… right. I have to try to destroy it again tonight.

          So, after a long day, I dismiss everyone in the line like I’ve been doing every day since Polybius showed up. But, once everyone is gone, the urge to play comes back. I fight against it and fill a bucket with water before going back to where Polybius stands. Dropping water on it may break some other cabinets, but I don't care. I just want this one gone. It flashes to life again, showing a laughing face. I feel like jello again, and stumble forward only to carefully put the bucket of water down. This time, when I come to, I’m in my room. There’s blood on the floor, and a hot ache in my arms. My arms are covered in blood, so I take a dirty towel to wipe it away. I’ll clean them after they stop bleeding. Except, when I wipe it away, more oozes up out of my arms. There are cuts in my arms. I pause. I don’t remember doing this, either. But, it feels right. Like all the other times I’ve come to in odd places, from the tunnels to alleyways.

          I really can’t keep doing this. Polybius needs to go. But right now I need to clean up all the blood on the floor and get my arms situated. So, I take a few more dirty towels and wipe up the blood and take turns pressing down on each arm to stop the bleeding. When it stops, I throw on a long-sleeved shirt and head to the bathroom. I examine the wounds more closely, as I wash them with soap and water while ignoring the stinging. They look like clean cuts; I think a knife made them. But I don’t know. There wasn’t a knife around me when I came to. 

          I go to work again, like every day, but I stop a group of three teens. “I have a job for you, if you’ll take it. You’ll make a hundred bucks each.” I say. They squint at me. “What kind of job?” One asks. “I’ll give you the spare key to the arcade, and you’ll destroy Polybius after hours.” I say. The stout one shrugs. “Pay us first, then we’ll do it.”

***

          I come into work, like everyday. And immediately walk up to Polybius. It stands, with its screen smashed in and dents in its sides.

[mimzy-writing-online]

What did the moment you realized/affirmed that losing your sight didn't mean losing all the things you've used to reading (ie social media/movies/books)? If you had to deal with it, that is, I've only recently followed you and might have missed something. I'm rather near sighted and my great grandmother (who raised my mom) was blind due to glaucoma not being treatable at the time. I got glasses at 9 thought I've been terribly near sighted since forever. So as a kid I used to think about maybe going blind a lot and I try to be conscious about blindness as much as I can. Reading and writing is such a major part of my life, I know I won't lose it should I lose my sight, but it's still made me hyper aware of accessibility in regards to sight.

So, I was usually okay with my vision loss as it happened. I certainly had bad days and breakdowns, but for the most part I was emotionally okay. I think a huge part of that was that I had exposure to blindness in media that wasn’t all bad rep, starting from when I was a kid:

1. My 4th grade language arts textbook had a short non-fiction story about a high school girl who was blind and what kind of changes she made, like having a cane and putting braille labels on everything. She still went to high school, had friends. There was a photo that was edited to be blurry in what I hope was a way similar to what she experienced. There was something incredible about it because to me she was just a normal person who saw differently, but her life was normal. Whoever wrote that short story did a good job if that was my takeaway at nine years old.

2. There were a few books I read around that age with disabled characters, including Of Sound Mind ( M C is hearing but his whole family is Deaf) and Things Unseen ( M C wakes up one morning invisible. While trying to solve the how and why of that he visits the library and physically runs into a blind girl. They start talking, he thinks she’s cute, it’s a romance. Cute story. I can’t remember if the girl was homeschooled or did special education, but part of her education was listening to audio books at the public library in pre-audible times. She also had a cane. I don’t remember much beyond that on accuracy)

Having books available to me as a kid with prominent disabled characters or stories about real blind people did normalize it for me

Don’t get me wrong, there was a lot of bad rep I found too, but it was easier to look at it and say, “I don’t think that’s quite right” because I had some good rep in there too.

3. At the school I attended from 7-9th grade, there was a girl a year or two older than me who was blind and I would see her every day between classes. I remember she had a cane one year, and then a black lab guide dog the next year. She also had a teachers aide going to classes with her. I remember she was in one of the advanced choir groups, but how I knew that was because in 6th grade my school took a field trip to that school to prepare us for middle school and we saw a choir performance which involved the girls singing and dancing, and after the performance my friend told me that one of the girls was blind and had a cane. (I was very nearsighted as a kid, I could not have seen that from where I was sitting)

I remember my thought process at that point, and it wasn’t “oh, so blind people can dance too.” It was, “oh, she must have worked hard to get the dancing right.”

4. There was a boy in my 9th grade English class who was blind, also had a cane and a teachers aide. I was too shy to talk to anyone, but I remember thinking he had chill vibes and that he was funny. He was one of the easier kids in that class to talk to.

That’s all the exposure I think I had before my vision loss symptoms began, which was when I was 17, though I had no way of knowing how serious those symptoms were going to become until I was in my twenties.

A big thing for comfortably transitioning (emotionally) with my vision loss was Molly Burke, who began her YouTube channel in 2015. I think I found her channel in the summer or fall of 2016, right as my symptoms began to evolve from “inconvenient” to painful, concerning, and difficult to deal with. She’s only a year older than me and while she came across more closed off and introverted in the early part of her YouTube career, she was incredibly personal and relatable. She had a career, she had lived alone in a big city, she traveled for work, and was incredibly independent.

But more importantly, she was independent because of the blindness life skills she had spent her life learning. O&M, Braille, using screen readers on her laptop and phone, shopping and picking her own outfits with a combination of touch and communicating with a sighted loved one. Having a set routine for everything, including makeup. She had her shit down because she’d practiced at it. So, reasonably, I could get my shit together if I took the time to learn how too.

Individual moments are harder to come by, but here is a distinct one:

-My first time using a cane was life changing because I wasn’t scared of my next two steps anymore and I could walk on my own again. The first moment of walking independently without anxiety was its own high, because I had taken a small part of my life and independence back.

For an essay, I would write: Through the internet, I found the disability community and blind role models who were living independent, happy lives because of the adapted life skills they learned.

I found my blind role models through the internet and studied what skills and changes they’d made to their lives and incorporated them into mine. 

(kind of a spin off on that, but it gave me the following sentences)

This meant reaching out to schools for the blind, and 

(which isn’t the prettiest sentence, but you’re looking at the first draft and my thought process. I pick the best bits and move forward with that. This whole process is me getting all my thoughts out and finding the most important details and translating them into something concise and simple)

[shadedrose01]

Maybe There's a Reason (To Believe You'll Be Okay)

Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark (platonic), Harley Keener/Peter Parker (at the end)

Summary: Harley has a crisis, and Tony helps him through it (with a hint of parkner at the end).

Tags: Remix, Parkner Remix Event, Even though its barely parkner whoops, Emails, Letters, Phone Calls & Telephones, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Sexual Identity, Identity Issues, Coming Out, Kinda?, Sexuality, Gay Harley Keener, Crushes, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Acceptance, Self-Acceptance, Love, Parental Love, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, tony stark is a dad, why is that not a tag, Parkner is only at the end, for like a paragraph, Just so yall know :)

For the Parkner Discord Remix Event!!

A remix of @official-impravidus ' fic "Sincerely, Me" (which you can read here!)

This is longer, so ao3 link is here!

Hope you all enjoy! Love you lexie!!

--

Wednesday, May 8, 2013, 1:24PM 

From: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

To: tes@starkindustries.com

Subject: Relationships and Mark V

I don't understand dating. Like, my friend Bryan started dating Rachel today, and that's fine, whatever, but I just don't get it. All they did was hold hands and kiss each other all day. Is that all a relationship is? What even is the point of it? I mean, I know humans are animals and our instincts give us our need to reproduce so we need to find a viable mate and all that stuff, but why do you need to always be together, and hold hands, and do all of that gross stuff too?

Either way, I finally got around to building a mark V for my potato gun! It's just a few upgrades up from the mark IV, for faster shots and farther range, but I think it'll be cool once it's done. 

I hope your day is going okay.

-Harley

 

~~~

 

Wednesday, May 8, 2013, 10:43PM 

From: tes@starkindustries.com

To: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

Subject: Re: Relationships and Mark V

Relationships are complex, and complicated. Humans are born to reproduce, yes, but dating, and finding a partner is more than that. It's finding someone you're compatible with, who can be there at your best and at your worst, and a bunch of other deep seeded emotions that are hard to explain.

You don't need to worry about that now, though. You'll understand more when you're older, anyways, so I wouldn't worry about it.

My day has been good. More of a lazy day today, Pepper and I ordered some take out and watched movies in our pjs. I didn't have my phone on me per Peppers request, or I would have answered sooner.

As for the Mark V, the updates sound good. Keep me posted, kid.

  -The Mechanic

 

~~~

 

Monday, September 8, 2014, 4:57PM 

From: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

To: tes@starkindustries.com

Subject: Middle School!!

I started middle school today!! And honestly? It wasn't as exciting as I thought it was gonna be. I knew that movies and tv shows oversell the wow factor of middle school and high school but I didn't think it'd be this dull. I'm still in the same class, with all the same classmates, and my classes are still crazy easy. I had hoped that the increase in grade would make it even a little bit harder, but I knew everything on the outline they gave out before the teachers even started teaching!! It's bonkers!

Apparently this middle school also has a STEM, or "gifted" kid program for kids like me though, so hopefully that'll be harder. I'm still gonna be so bored in my normal classes though. Ugh.

I have the STEM classes tomorrow, so I'll tell you how it goes. I know you've been stuck in those awful meetings lately, but I hope your day is going better than mine.

  -Harley

 

~~~

 

Tuesday, September 9, 2014, 5:04PM

From: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

To: tes@starkindustries.com

Subject: STEM Program

I had my STEM class day today, and it went a lot better than yesterday did! My teachers are all super nice, especially my math teacher, Mr. Trevor. He immediately starting teaching today, which was awesome, because all of my other normal teachers had a Ice Breaker class first (which I hate, we all already know each other, why do we have to say our names and something about ourselves??), but he just went right into it, and started teaching us trigonometry. I haven't learned any of it before, and I'm super excited to dig into it and find out how it works. It's seeming pretty simple so far, just formulas and using calculators right.

The only bummer is the class I got put with. They all seemed to click and get along well together, but none of them really talked to me much. I don't mind though. I'm more focused on my education anyways.

Also! I saw that Captain America and Black Widow took down SHIELD's headquarters on the news. What was that about? Do you know?? Apparently they leaked files too or something???

I hope everything is okay.

  -Harley

 

~~~

 

Friday, September 12, 2014, 10:27AM 

From: tes@starkindustries.com

To: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

Subject: Re: STEM Program

Hey kid. Sorry for the late response, things have been hectic here, as you probably know. It's been a PR nightmare, with the whole "Cap took SHIELD down" fiasco. I can't say more than that though. Legal things, NDAs, you know how it is.

I'm glad the STEM classes are testing your abilities more. I know the regular classes can be boring for someone of your intellect, but try to enjoy them while they last, okay? Soon you'll be an adult, and doing adult things, and trust me, it isn't as fun as they make it out to be in the movies either.

Don't worry about those kids too. Give it time, they'll come around.

  -The Mechanic

 

~~~

 

Friday, September 26, 2014, 9:02PM

From: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

To: tes@starkindustries.com

Subject: Update?

Hi. Just emailed to give an update on me. Everything's been pretty normal, I guess. Abbie's loving elementary school, her teacher, Mrs. Millar, is really nice. I did my trig test today, and I think I did well. Mama's working late again tonight, but that's just normal at this point too.

Have you ever, I dunno. Felt like you were weird? Or strange, or broken? Like, all of your friends are one way, and doing some things, but you aren't, and everyone looks at you weird, and treats you differently?

I don't know. I don't know where I'm going with this. I just feel off tonight. Think I'm going to go to bed early.

I'm sorry.

  -Harley

 

~~~

 

Friday, September 26, 2014, 9:48PM 

From: tes@starkindustries.com

To: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

Subject: Re: Update?

 

You don't need to apologize, kid. You did nothing wrong.

I used to feel like that, quite frequently if I'm being honest. When I first went to MIT, I felt weird. I stuck out like a sore thumb, and had people talk about me behind my back because of how young I was. But then I met Rhodey, and things got better.

And then Afghanistan happened. And the invasion. Let me tell you kid, I've never felt more broken and alone after that. I had panic attacks, as you know, but I also struggled with a lot of paranoia. Lack of sleeping or eating properly, mixed with trauma does that to you. I was a wreck, and I was so certain I couldn't be fixed. That I'd be like that forever.

And to an extent, I will be. I'll always struggle with it, but it's much, much better now than it used to be. I went to therapy, talking about my feelings, which sucked ass (don't tell your mom I said that), and learned mechanisms to help myself. Learned breathing techniques, practiced meditation, focused more on self care, and now I'm doing so much better.

So, moral of this long, way too personal story. You aren't broken, kid. Whatever is going on, whether it's similar to me or not (I hope not), it'll be okay. You will be okay. Things will work out. And don't worry about what other people think. Focus on yourself, and do what makes you happy, no matter what.

I'm always here if you need to talk, Harley. I might not be much help, or be very good at this whole hormonal preteen emotions thing yet, but I can try.

I'm glad things are going okay outside of that though. I'm glad your sister's settling in well, and I'm sure you aced your test. You're a smart kid.

Goodnight.

  -Tony

 

~~~

 

Tuesday, October 7th, 2014, 3:38PM

From: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

To: tes@starkindustries.com

Subject: Call

Hey, can we call? I know you're probably busy, and we don't normally do that but I'm kinda freaking out about something and I don't know who else to talk to. My number is (___)  ___-____

  -Harley

 

~~

 

Tuesday, October 7th, 2014, 3:41PM

From: countryroadstakemehometotennessee@gmail.com

To: tes@starkindustries.com

Subject: Re: Call

Nevermind, ignore that last email. I was being overdramatic, and stupid. I'm fine, everything is okay.

Sorry for bothering you.

  -Harley

 

---

 

He didn't expect anything from the emails. He assumed the older man would've read his last email, and shrugged it off, pretending the previous didn't exist like Harley longed for him too. As he said, he was being dumb. It didn't matter that his heart was pounding, that his brain was screaming at him that he was a freak, and dirty, and so so so wrong , that he was shaking like a leaf and on the verge of tears. It didn't matter. It was stupid. It didn't matter.

He didn't expect that Tony would actually still call him.

He stares at his vibrating cell phone through teary eyes, blurry vision, the number unknown but he knows who it is, knows it because nobody else calls, because when his friends call, they call the home phone, not his phone, so who else could it be?

He blinks the tears out of his eyes, rubbing them away quickly when a few escape, swallowing down his fear and panic and self hatred as he scrambles to pick it up before the call ends (he doesn't think Tony would appreciate it very much if he let it ring to voicemail), stuttering out a shaky, higher pitched "H-Hello?"

"Hey, kid." Tony's voice, much lower and rougher than his, rings through the phone, and Harley braces for the questions, the interrogation he knows is coming, knows Tony's gonna ask him about it, about what's bothering him. Why, why did he email him? Now he's gonna have to tell him what's wrong, now he's gonna have to admit it, admit how wrong and messed up and broken he is- "How was your day?"

Harley jerks back slightly, mouth gaping and eyes wide, caught off guard by the unexpected tame question. "Huh?"

"How was your day?" The man repeats calmly, tone smooth, even, relaxed, like it's a normal conversation on a normal, boring day. Nothing like how Harley is feeling, nothing like the swarming thoughts in his mind, like the flood of emotions in his chest, like the churning in his stomach, the burning ache in his lungs. 

"U-uhm," Damn his stutter, he had grown out of it years ago, why was it suddenly coming back now? "I-it was good." He lies, trying to keep his voice from wavering, trying to keep it steady, trying to stay composed as the tsunami of emotions tries to pull him under. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Tony prods lightly, voice softening slightly, and Harley shakes his head in a nod, firm, even though Tony can't see it, even as tears start to burn at his eyes again, even his chest winds tighter and tighter and tighter .

"Mhm." He forces out, not trusting himself to speak anymore, his throat closing as his feelings start rising up his esophagus, a sob clawing its way up his throat, trying to escape.

There's a pause, then, a moment when everything freezes. A moment right before the iceberg tips, right before everything crashing and burning down around him, right before the beginning of the end. And then, time starts again, as the mechanic asks, quiet, hushed "What's going on, Harley?"

And Harley crumbles .

The sob rips from his throat, echoing loudly in the large emptiness of his garage, a trembling hand covering his mouth as soon as he does. But the floodgates have already opened, tears are streaming full force down his face, his body shuttering through shaky gasps and shattered sobs. "I-I-Im sorry ," He chokes out as he sits down heavily in his old, pachy wheely chair, curling into himself as his body shutters again. He rubs his eye with the hand on his face, sniffling and coughing through a whimpered, "I-I know you're- you're probably b-busy, you- you don't h-have to-"

"I have nowhere else to be." Tony murmurs simply, cutting off Harley's poor attempt at waving him off, at delaying the inevitable for any longer. Harley lets out a small whine as the older man speaks up again, soft, soothing, repeating gently, "What's going on, kid?"

"I-I dont-" He hiccups, running a hand through his shaggy, too long blond curls, tugging slightly as his knee bounces rapidly. "M-My friends, or my classmates, they- lately, they've been, I don't know, they've been talking- talking more about crushes and girls and stuff." Harley sniffles, tugging his hair harder as his vision starts to blur again, the words tumbling out of his mouth now. "And- and I never really c-cared about it, you know? I never really- really unders-stood it, didn't see the appeal, s-so I didnt m-mind it. But they- they just keep talking about it, and getting g-girlfriends, and-and talking about their bodies and I didnt get the- the i-interest, so I thought maybe something was wrong with me-"

"There isn't." Tony chips in, but Harley just runs right over him, keeps blabbering. He knows it's rude, knows his mama taught him better, but he can't seem to stop talking now that he started, his words getting more and more wobbly, panicked the longer he goes.

"But there is , there is something wrong with me, I- I know there is now, be-because when I-I went to school today, the- the past few days really, I started- started noticing that I started f-feeling weird, and- and it sounds- sounds similar to how the- the others say they feel, but it doesn't make sense , it can't be that, I dont- I cant-" Harley's breath catches, and he grinds his teeth together, refuses to speak another word, refuses to accept it, refuses to admit the god awful truth, refuses to utter the words. Because it can't be right, it can't be true, it can't be-

They sit in silence for a few moments, when he assumes Tony thought he would continue speaking but he wont, he refuses , until the softer, calmer voice returns, slightly staticky through the speaker, but barely more than a whisper, as if he spoke any louder, Harley would shatter. He probably would. "So, if I'm understanding correctly, you think you have a crush, and you're... scared?"

He doesn't sound patronizing, just honest, if a bit curious, but it doesn't help calm Harley any, a higher pitched, frustrated noise escaping the back of his throat, his free hand going out of his hair going back to rubbing at his face, rubbing off the tracks of tears, trying to rub away any sign of upset, until his skin is red and raw. "No, I-I mean, kinda- its not- I can't- god , this is so stupid."

"Its not stupid. I get it." The man responds, and Harley wants to laugh, feels the bitter feeling bubbling in his chest, because does he? How can he get this? Harley doesn't even get this, it doesn't- he shouldn't- "What's her name?"

The sound erupts out of him at that, but instead of laughter like he thought it would be, it's just another pitiful whine, another loud, agonizing sob. Because that's the thing, the thing that's been haunting him ever since he figured it out earlier that day, the issue that's been plaguing his mind and freaking him out, winding him up more and more and more as the day went on until he got home and sent those messages. 

Because- because when he thinks back to earlier that day, he thinks of lunchtime, of sitting at his lunch table with his "friends", of them talking and laughing, of Harley feeling those weird feelings again, especially when he looked across from him, and saw big, forest green eyes, saw a big, toothy grin, saw two small dimples and scattered freckles, saw short, short black hair, saw a sharper, thinner jaw, saw male male male, felt butterflies flutter, and realized he was wrong, wrong, wrong .

Because- "It's not a girl." His voice is small, defeated, barely a whisper, his whole body tensed up in fear, waiting, waiting for his reaction.

There's a pause, before a faint, quiet, sympathetic, "Oh, kid." That Harley immediately the wrong way, because he hates him, oh god he hates him-

"I'm sorry!" He gasps, jerking upright, sitting ramrod straight and the apologies spilling from his mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didnt- I dont mean to, and I-I know its wrong, and I shouldn't, and I-I know I'm weird and- and a freak , and-"

"Hey, hey, woah!" Tony's voice is louder now, stronger, and Harley hushes up immediately, his mouth slamming shut, even as his body trembles with a silent sob. "It's okay, kid. You aren't any of that."

"But- but I am!" Harley whimpers. "I'm w-weird, and everyone else isn't like this , and-"

"Am I a freak?" Again, the random question sends Harley for a loop, trying to grasp onto any of his quickly scattering thoughts.

"W-what?"

He can hear a faint smile, faint amusement in Tony's tone as he asks again, still so so calm, so reassured, "Am I a freak?"

Harley narrows his shining eyes, still full of tears, staring down at the wooden table in front of him, at the chips and nicks covering the side of it, wondering if this is a trick question. "N-No? Of- of course not, you're Iron Man."

He can hear some noise in the background of the call now, squeaking as if someone's leaning back in a chair, before Tony speaks up again, voice full of warm amusement now. "Well, Iron Man has had a few rendezvous with men in the past, and still likes them to this day. Does that make him, and therefore, me, a freak?" When Harley doesn't answer, mostly out of pure shock than anything else, Tony keeps going, tone going serious again. "Kid, I'm gonna get this out there right away. There is nothing wrong with you for liking boys, you hear me?"

He swallows, and wants to agree, longs to agree, but- "But- but my friends, they all like- like girls , and mama, she- she said that traditional marriage was what God wanted and-"

Harley cuts himself off this time, and Tony only waits a few beats before murmuring softly, "Is that what you think?"

He just shrugs, picking at the table, sniffling, whispering quietly, "I don't know what to think anymore."

There's a soft hum and another pause. "You're different, Harley. I'm not going to beat around the bush, you are different." Harley stomach drops. "But," Tony continues, "Kid, you've always been different. You're so smart, way too smart for your own good, if I'm being honest. And there's nothing wrong with that. People may try to bring you down, or kick you while you are down, but you've gotta remember that, okay? There is nothing wrong with you."

Harley waits a few moments, let's the words wash over him and wrap him in a blanket of warmth, of security and comfort, but there's still one little thing that keeps rearing its ugly head, that's still making him antsy. "But, what if I'm just- overreacting? And I don't actually... y-you know." He finishes lamely, still not ready to completely admit to everything yet.

Tony doesn't seem to mind. "Then that's okay too." He says simply, a bit of shuffling coming through the line. "Kid, how old are you again, like twelve?"

He can hear the teasing in his tone, and rolls his eyes as he huffs out, "Thirteen." 

The older man chuckles for a second, before his voice goes back to calm, quiet. "Seriously though, you're thirteen , Kid. You don't need to have everything figured out right away." He snorts, then. "I sure didn't. I think I was a mess at your age, wasn't even thinking about relationships. At least, not long term." There's a pause. "Point is, you don't need to know right now. This might be a fluke, and you might end up liking only girls from here on out. You might end up just liking boys, liking both, or neither, who knows? But you've got time, kid, and that's the key. Give it time . And whatever it ends up being, whatever ends up happening..." His voice softens at the end, a smile prominent in his tone. "It'll be okay. You will be okay." 

For the first time all day, Harley finally takes a deep breath. His shoulders finally relax, his body practically melting back into his chair, and a smile grows on his face, warmth blooming in his chest. "...thanks, Tony." He whispers, hoping that the amount of pure, unfiltered gratitude he's feeling can be heard in his tone.

He thinks it can, as there's a hint of embarrassment and awkwardness in Tony's voice as he responds with a simple, "Don't mention it, squirt." 

Harley just chuckles at the sudden discomfort of the older man, before his eyes widen. "Oh! While you're here, did I tell you I passed my trig test?"

"Hey! I knew you would, kid, I had no doubt." Harley's grin widens, before he throws himself into another story, feeling warmer, safer, and happier than he has in a while.

A few years later, Tony was getting off of the elevator to his penthouse with a huff, having just gotten back from a rough meeting, when he freezes. His heart warma and a smile grows on his face when he notices Harley, now 17 years old (almost an adult, god he was so old ), curled up into Peter's chest, his face pushed into his neck, seemingly fast asleep. Peter's head rests on top of Harley's, eyes open but hooded, as if keeping them open was getting difficult. They glance over to Tony immediately, though (damn his spider sense and increased hearing), and a faint blush forms on his cheeks even as he smiles lightly, his eyes softening as he glances back down at his boyfriend and presses a firm kiss onto his head. Tony watches the interaction with a soft grin, before quietly stepping away, his chest full of mostly warm, sappy feelings, but also full of pride and joy, knowing his pseudo son is accepted, happy and loved.

[cordoniantrash]

Verdant Heart

Soooo… here’s the jealous!Savannah fic that I’ve tried my hand at. It was originally supposed to be just three parts where it shows instances of Savannah’s jealous moments over the years but I ended up with five parts that’s mostly written stream of consciousness style. Oops. 

Apologies for the purple patches in this. Also tried to put some symbolism here and there (which in hindsight is quite on the nose). no beta we die like men

Special thanks to the anon who sent that really sweet message! Grammatical mistakes are mine and do let me know what you guys think.

Title is from a quote by Russell Page, taken a bit out of context to fit the fic. Here’s the link to the thread that inspired this.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, Pixleberry has that privilege

Pairing: Bertrand x Savannah (I’m so sorry!), mentioned Liam x MC and a hint sentence of Drake x MC

Warning: mention of death

Words: 2382

I

Her clearest early memory was this: there was a ball, and the entire Walker family was invited. Savannah saw it as her first true ball. It wasn’t like the others where she and the other children (and the princes) were allowed in the ballroom for a little while and then ushered into a sitting room while the adults stayed in the grand ballroom and enjoyed the party. Savannah was actually dressed in a gown, a pretty little thing, forest green with skirts that swished when she twirled. She remembered that their parents allowed them to stay past their bedtimes ( “Just this once,” her father said), and little Savannah was determined to make the most of it. 

When the opportunity presented itself, she wandered off from the adults and found some of her friends, children of the staff in the palace, while her brother took off to go hang out with Prince Liam. On the other side of the room, near the thrones, she could see some noble’s children in their own little circles, fashionably dressed, almost doll-like in their perfection. 

The purpose of the event was lost to little Savannah. Looking back she remembered admiring the way the light danced on the floor of the grand ballroom, the tinkling of both glass and laughter, the way the skirt of the ladies’ gowns would sway and shimmer as they moved and glided across the floor. In a child’s mind, it was as though all her favorite fairy-tales have come to life and gathered at her home. 

As she gazed across the room, she saw the queen being surrounded by noblewomen, all fawning over her dress, her hair, her emerald jewels. She saw how the king would now and then look over and gaze at his wife with something that Savannah decided was love. 

It was there and then that she became acquainted with yearning, and in the years that followed, it became her constant shadow. Her friend. 

II

She tried to fit in, become a tree amongst the forest. She would be beautiful as myrtle, beloved as apple, graceful as jasmine flowers. Savannah dreamed of being loved and adored like every noble lady in the court. She tried to talk like them, act like them, be like them. So she would go on and pour herself into mint green dresses, drape jade across her throat and wrists, weave laurel colored ribbons in her hair. All the while telling herself that this will let her become like them. She clung to the idea of nobility like ivy, while her brother had begun to try to free himself from its clutches.

Yet it wasn’t enough. Her clothes were just a season too late, her manners lacking, her posture forever slipping. Her jewels did not shine, her dress dull, her charm lacking. Faced with all these, Savannah still tried and pushed, happy to be granted even a scrap of thought.

In her quest to be accepted, she had begun to develop a crush on the second prince (or was it the other way ‘round? She couldn’t quite recall). How could she not have a crush on him? Prince Liam was handsome and smart. He embodied sophistication for Savannah, and he always knew the right thing to say. A smile from him would have her feeling butterflies in her stomach.

Her brother knew of her little crush, of course. Savannah pleaded and cajoled her brother, promising him weeks-worth of chores and her best puppy-dog eyes for him to never mention it to Prince Liam. This did not stop him from teasing her every time they see the Princes. He would smirk, nudge her and loudly whisper:

“Look who it is Sav!”

“D’you wanna say hi?”

“Look, Sav! He might be looking your way!”

The embarrassment was excruciating. That did not curb her crush. 

It was him or nothing, really. He was the closest to her age (Maxwell does not count because he’s become something like a brother). Yes, she would giggle and swoon over the Crown Prince like the other palace girls (again, how could they not? Prince Leo was temptation incarnate) but she would always take fierce pride in the fact that while her friends gossip and play coy with the older brother, she was secure in the younger. In her daydreams, Prince Liam would woo her, would never embarrass her like Drake. He would be like the Princes in the fairy tales she loved. 

Savannah had it all planned out. She would always be with them in their escapades (well, along with Lady Olivia) and one day the Prince would notice and then, like the princess and the damsels in her stories, she too would have her happily ever after. She’d be accepted then. She would be enough.

Her plans were delayed when Savannah went with her family to their ranch in Texas for the second time. There she met Chuck and her plans and daydreams were put on indefinite hold.

She came back from that summer refreshed and feeling like a new person. She had bloomed into a woman that summer (or so she told herself), and when she went back to Cordonia, she felt ready to face the world. She’s not Drake’s younger sister anymore. She won’t be. She’ll be known as Savannah Walker and she’ll make her mark upon the world.

This newfound perspective, her new world, was shattered by a late-night phone call and a bullet wound. 

III

This is how she started seeing – truly seeing – him. It was her father’s funeral, and she was standing beside her brother, both of them staring at the casket. The Princes and the Brothers Beaumont stood beside the Walkers, (who were now thrust into the spotlight) as a show of solidarity. For once in Savannah’s life, she could find pleasure in being the center of attention. She wanted to disappear, to sink into the earth and let it swallow her so she may be with her father again. She’ll gladly disappear if it meant that her Dad would return to them.

She sniffled, her head bent, silently cursing herself for appearing less than strong in front of her father. In front of her family, in front of the court. At the corner of her eye, she could see the boys. For once they were standing behind Drake, all of them appearing blurry through her tears. Someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned her head and saw a handkerchief, black and perfectly folded. She raised her head and met the eyes of one Bertrand Beaumont. 

In the months and years that followed, Savannah learned that Bertrand was nothing like the Prince. Both of them were charming. Both of them, the epitome of courtly life, but while Prince Liam was born into it, at ease with all the protocols and the tradition, Bertrand upheld it with every fiber of his being. He lived it and pushed it into new heights. He radiated glamour and Savannah was more than happy to soak in it and bask in its glow, however, reflected it may be.

He was real and somehow all that she ever needed. Throughout their whole story, she began to feel accepted. Funny, she had thought, how one person could make her feel what dozen of noble ladies could not.

Savannah then came into a realization. Prince Liam was blue; he was deep seas and untouchable skies. He would always unknowingly have her childhood’s heart, but now he was hazy. Dreamlike. Like the memories she’ll always hold dear. Bertrand, in his brown suits, his patterned sweater vests, and dry wit was the opposite. He was steady, dependable. Real. An actual shelter, a true home, and like a fool she had given him her all.

Bertrand had opened the door into the life that she had yearned for. Bertrand was also the one to close it. The closest thing she had ever come to hating the nobility was after Bertrand told her they can never be together. That he still has to marry a noblewoman. After all this time she wasn’t enough. The baby wasn’t enough. They weren’t enough.

What’s worse is that in the eyes of the court she’ll be ruined. She’ll be like any other scandal. They don’t have to know, a voice whispered in her head as she agonized over what to do, dear, sweet Maxwell found her crying on the steps of the Beaumont estate and offered to help. She had accepted it, what else can she do?

She took some lessons from Kiara, noticing the way the Lady looked at her brother and shamefully taking advantage of it. She packed her bags before anyone could talk her out of it and moved to Paris. There she stayed and gave birth; cushioned by Maxwell’s kindness (and pity, she added in her head) until her brother found her appartement with an American in tow. 

IV

Her old friend, yearning came back, this time with company. Lady Cassandra was beautiful. What’s more was that she was magnetic, even when dressed casually. Savannah had seen her pictures from the tabloids and heard Maxwell’s stories, but nothing prepared her for the force of nature that was Cassandra.

“She’s really something else,” Maxwell had said. Savannah had chuckled and changed the subject.

Now that they’re face to face, Savannah can see it. She also saw how her brother would orbit around the woman. She had already endured Maxwell’s gushing about his new bosom buddy, his new sister, and knew with a heavy heart that Cassandra was head over heels with Liam. Savannah wonders how her brother can cope with that weighing him down while also quelling the envy that reared its ugly head. She refused to look into it for too long.

But despite her efforts, she still felt jealous. She wanted to scream. They were hers first. Her family, her brothers, her childhood prince. After she meets Cassandra, she began to compare herself to the American. She’d look in a mirror and let yearning and envy consume her thoughts.

With Lady Cassandra came other surprises. Bertrand came into her life again and began to build them back together once more. Brick by brick, lovingly (and awkwardly) place one after the other.

Savannah could have stayed in Paris, raised Bartie in the City of Love, and let Cordonia go. But the call of home, of Drake and Maxwell, of family (of Bertrand, her mind supplied) grew stronger every day. Maybe she had thought, maybe it’s time to grow roots. 

She came back, and the court was somehow changed yet still the same and Savannah occupied her old role: an outsider observer looking outside in. Once in awhile, she’d look again at a mirror and think. She used to dream of fitting in, of being the princess, being Snow White: Fairest of them all. Of having and commanding the adoration of people around her and lavish parties thrown in her honor. What she got instead was isolation in an apartment in Paris, a baby (the light of her life) out of wedlock and a relationship that was barely staying afloat while a complete stranger got the chance to achieve all her dreams and fancies.

It was not as if Cassandra was cruel to her. Or indifferent. She was always looking out for them, helping Bertrand communicate with her. Savannah was grateful, immensely so, but she can’t help but listen to a tiny voice in her head saying that the American turned Duchess was doing it mainly for Bertrand.

So despite her best efforts, she would still cast subtle glances, admiring and jealous at equal measure. Comparing and aspiring, a never-ending cycle. She thought she’d be free of that once she came back. She was wrong.

Savannah tried not to let jealousy get the best of her during Cassandra’s wedding. The event hasn’t even started yet the masses are already calling it the wedding of the century. Then Bertrand and the bridal party were attacked and Savannah is too worried to dwell on the wedding itself, that is until she saw the future queen of Cordonia being given away by Bertrand. Pride and something ugly she’d rather not dwell on swelled in her chest. Of course, the modern-day Cinderella would have her fairy tale wedding while Savannah – ordinary, commoner Savannah – can’t even have a straight conversation with the father of her child and the love of her life. 

This cocktail of emotions stayed with her until the wonder of all wonders happened: Bertrand stepped up and gave Savannah her most desired fairy-tale proposal. With the new queen’s help of course (but Savannah was too ecstatic to dwell on that).

Savannah felt bad about it afterward, especially in the wake of the kidnapping, but after the dust settled those emotions came back, embraced and nurtured by her old friends: yearning and envy.  

V

Now in her family’s ranch, with a mother who was trying her best and an aunt with understanding in her eyes, Savannah’s old friends dog her steps once again, but never for the same reasons: she yearns to have what Liam and Cassandra have, that ease that they exclude around each other, so different from the look that Constantine gave Eleanor all those years ago, but no less intense. No less loving.

She wonders if Bertrand would ever be as upfront about his affections like the royal couple are with theirs.

She envies that they seem to have everything they’ll ever need while her love struggles with their finances.

So Savannah can’t help but cast her little side-eyes, speak her little quips. Shape her wedding to the image of her parents instead of the courtly one that she had been dreaming of.

Savannah admires and envies Cassandra at the same time. Here was the woman who had achieved all of Savannah’s dreams and then some. And while Savannah would not trade Bertrand and Bartie for anything, a vicious little voice in her head would always find herself lacking and Savannah is growing tired of it. 

She longs to put down roots, to be steady as oak, long-lasting as a redwood. A shelter. A part of the forest.

Savannah chases contentment with yearning and envy at her side, wondering all the while why it eludes her. 

Tagging: @thecordoniandiaries, @kingliamsbitch, @badchoicesposts, @heauxplesslydevoted, @dcbbw, @janezillow 

Its a one-shot but if you guys want to be tagged let me know 😁

[benjaminjofaiho]

The Captain Next Door Ch.1

Summary: You’re a doctor who also just so happens to be a fan fiction writer. You love lots of fandoms but Captain America is by far your fave, so what happens when you get a new job, move to Brooklyn and realize that the brownstone you bought is right next door to Captain America? Obviously shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: cursing, smutt (eventually)

Authors note: Ok guys, this is literally my first fanfic and it’s about the Cap. Please be gentle! Also guys I really do live for a slow burn so that will be present heavy, I hope you can stick with it. Let me know what you think and please, reblog, like and comment! Love y'all! P.S. I do not currently have a beta and the ‘f’ and ‘u’ keys on my keyboard are messed up so incase you see repeating letters anywhere they aren’t supposed to be feel free to let me know.

   You wiped the sweat forming on your head from the sweltering Brooklyn heat. You were from Texas but this was definitely more than you were used to, or expected from everything you’ve seen on TV about New York. You sat on the stoop of your Brooklyn Brownstone waiting and started to think back. Three months ago you were in your parents living room opening up a heavy envelope from a hospital you’ve only dreamed of. Your father beamed from ear to ear, chest swelling with pride and tears were already in your mom’s eyes the moment a paper cutter went through the envelope. Your eyes flew across the page “Y/FN Y/LN, We would like to offer you the position of Head of Cardiology here at Mount Sinai...” everything else had been a blur. All your sleepless nights in college, all the anxiety, stress, sacrifices of missed birthdays and family gatherings, all of it had lead up to this moment and it had all been worth it. Your job started in the next 5 months and you had to pack up your Texan life and move all the way to the ‘big Apple’ as your dad called it. Besides the fact that you were infatuated with the city since you were a little girl, you were ready for a change of scenery. There were so many good memories here in Fort Worth but thanks to your asshole ex, Daniel, there were also a lot of sour ones as well. Your parents and your younger siblings helped you pack up your little house that was just  15 minutes from theirs. You were able to get everything done in about 2 weeks. At the airport your family saw you off. Your younger brother, Benjamin, eyes were red.

           “Aww baby brother are you crying because you’re going to miss me?” you pinched at his cheeks.

           Swatting your hand away he chuckled “Nah, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna be in a whole nother state bossing people around and how you’ll finally be able to mind your own business and stay out of mine.” You hugged him and he bent down so you could kiss his forehead. Even though you were 26, a whole 7 years older than him and 5’8, he still towered above you.

           Turing to your 3 youngest sisters, Joy, Faith and Hope. Their names a testament to just how southern and Christian your parents were. They were huddled together crying freely, looking like little black angels in a chapel. You hugged each of them while the youngest, Hope, held on the longest. You hugged her until she was ready to let go. You kissed Faith on the cheek and moved to turn to your parents. The third oldest Joy grabbed you and hugged you once again, fiercley. She whispered in your ear “Y/N, I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to take care of them the way you took care of us, what are we gonna do without you?”

           You looked into her brown eyes “Joy, babe all you have to do is love them. Also I’m just a FaceTime call away, PLUS I’m a big shot doctor so it ain’t nothing for me to hop on a plane for y’all. Girl I got monnneeyyyy” That managed to get a little laugh from her and you stepped back to look at your siblings. Technically yes, they were your younger ones but due to the large age gap you always looked at them as your children, your babies. The 4 of them huddled around you once more and hugged. You turned to your dad who was never one to shy away from his emotions, was all but balling.

           “Come on dad, you gotta hold it together man!” he laughed and wiped at his cheeks

“I’m just so proud of you baby girl, you inspire your brother and sisters to do more, your mother and I have always told you that, but I never told you, you inspire me to. I am beyond proud of you.”

           “Aw dad, I love you so much” Pulling you into one of his patented hugs he said “I love you too. You’re going to the big apple now Doc, make sure you take a bite” Kissing your forehead you turned to face your mom. Oh boy. Of you made it through this one you would be home free, no ugly snot face crying. She gave you the best smile she could and that was it. The dam broke and you were sobbing. She hugged you and told you how proud of you she was, how you were a shining light for your siblings and the family as a whole. She told you that she also packed some food from home in your suitcase so you could settle in a little easier. You looked at her with a heart full of nothing but love. You were a little neurotic, and had a tendency to be anal retentive, planning and sticking to strict schedule for everything, predicting 10’000 possible outcomes to any situation but your mother was always there for you. Always remembering anything you didn’t. You thought of how she was really the only one you would let see vulnerable and take care of you. You would miss that in New York. Picking up your hand luggage you were whisked through security thanks to your first class ticket. Turning once more now passed security you stood up on your tip toes and waved emphatically to your family, not caring who saw you or them looking crazy. Your family had already been a little above average but this new job allowed you to even buy your wants not just your needs. You settled down in your chair and noticed only a handful of people were in your cabin. A stewardess came to offer you some champagne and you politely declined. Looking out the window a few seconds letting the last tear fall you put your curly hair up, you had to get to work.

           So yes, you were a doctor and that was all good and fun but you were also a huge nerd. Huge. While most people went to the club, concerts and generally having pretty good times outdoors you were stuck at home. Even when not studying you were still stuck to your computer. Once your family insisted on going to six flags and you brought your ipad with the attachable keyboard and your family kept talking about how dedicated of a student turned intern turned full-fledged doctor you were. If only they knew… You were working on your fanfiction and your followers and subbies were a bunch of savages! If they didn’t get their fix from you and you didn't stick to your upload schedule, your inbox would definitely be a madness, all sorts of threats and your lovelies would call you everything but a child of God. You’d been away for about a month and a few days now and your beta, Jay had started texting your actual phone. You met Jay on Tumblr a few years before, there had been some light flirtation always present but never anything serious. You worked better as friends and when you decided to get into fanfiction to blow steam off, he proved a good beta reader.

TXT From Jay: Doc! Where the hell are you at? Your rabid readers are jumping down my throat trying to you. Why you would leave a major cliffhanger for Captain America, and Sonia I have no idea. They want to know what’s happening next, low key I do too.

           You giggled. You thought of everything, you knew setting up a completely unaffiliated and untraceable account for your writing was a good idea. 1- you didn't want angry people in your inbox losing their minds. 2- You’ve been going for interviews and you didn't want a case where a potential employer would google your name and see all the filth you think about earth’s mightiest heroes and other people who don’t even exist. No way, you couldn't have that type of rep attached to you.

TXT From Y/N: Jaybaby, I’ve been going through it. Sorry, just been in the process of moving and you know life can get a little messy. Plus I really needed a break. Funnily enough I’m working on The Dangerous Dame right now. I’ll send the new chapter to you within the week. XO

Thinking back to seeing the avengers save New York you were grateful for them. They were kicking ass and taking names. Keeping all of us safe but damn if they weren’t all so fine. And you did mean ALL. To be honest that Natasha could. Get. It. All of them could get it. But there was something about that Captain America. He was sort of shy and had a boyish charm about him but that body made you think of pure sin. You wanted to wrap yourself around him and never let him go. You wanted to do nasty things to him. You wanted him to completely demolish you. So you did what everyone who is obsessed with anyone does. Try and consume as much media about said person as possible. Hey, It is the golden age of technology after all. After having your fill of random fan pictures, blurry videos of him in action you needed more stimulus. Where better to turn than Tumblr. Much to your dismay, there was barely any Cap Fanfic and when there was there was so little reader insert. And even then, there was literally less than 10 where he was actually into a black woman. This wouldn't do, you thought to yourself. That’s how Doctor Chris was born. Of course his name was Steve but he always sort of looked like a Chris to you. You didn’t just write about him but other people too, your stories took off and were a good escape from your hectic life.

           A car pulled up to you on your empty street and a short round man with a very stereotypical New Yorker accent shouted up to you, shaking you our of your memories

           “Ay lady, are you” his beady eyes peered at a piece of paper “Y/N? Are you Y/N?”

           “Yes that’s me”

           “Alright come get your unit, and not to be rude or anything but could you make it snappy? I got to make 15 more deliveries before the day is over.”

You slowly rose “Alright, I understand. However I paid for the delivery service? Aren’t y’all supposed to put it in my house?”

           “Lady you paid for the delivery service, not the installation service. That's another fee.”

           “I understand that” You replied still confused “ But I thought you would deliver it into my home.”

           “No way lady, that’s the set up service. You paid for the delivery service. That's an entirely different fee.” He repeated.

           “Understood” Your lips pulled into a flat line “Well sir could you at least help me get it into the first floor of my house?”

           “Did you pay for transportation insurance?”

           “….no…I didn-”  he cut you off “Well sorry Lady, I can’t help you.”

           “You can’t help me off load this huge AC and just carry it up 7 measly steps with me?”

           “Nope, can’t do it. It’s against company policy. Say I should look up at a pretty bird cuz the day’s so gorgeous and what not, then your unit slips out of my hand, there goes your cool breeze. Who’s gonna pay for that? Certainly not the company, cuz you didn’t pay for the transport insurance. That's a different fee. Now you’re angry at me, I mean technically it was my fault for being so clumsy and distractable and what not. But guess who else isn’t gonna pay? Me! Then guess whos gonna be upset and take me to court but loose horrifically because my brother in law just passed the bar? You! So lady no, I can’t help you. Why don’t you get one of the other tenants in the building to help you?”

           “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but I own the brownstone and I live alone. So there’s no one that could help me.”

           “You had enough money to get a brownstone but not enough to pay the fee?”

           “Alright thanks whatever your name is. I’ll just take my AC Now.”

           You looked at him while you struggled for 15 minutes just to get the AC out of the truck and the second you safely had it on the baking concrete of the curb you heard the back of the truck slide down and heard a door slam. You turned around to see the truck driver starting up the car and he shouted over the roaring engine.

           “Thanks for shopping with Coole Breeze, your number one cooling solution  in the tricity area, have a frosty day!” and with that, he was off.

           Even though you were wearing a  pretty airy romper and you did work out about 3 times a week, that was nothing against that heavy ass air conditioner and that Brooklyn heat. You put your hands on top your head and squinted up the sky. You again thank God your street was empty. You must have sweated out your Twist out and edges by now. You were convinced you were looking crazy. But hey, It was a Tuesday at 1. Everyone who was someone was at work, kids were in school so it was just you and this behemoth air conditioning unit.  Getting into classic Y/N calculations your decided what you were going to do. Yes, this AC was, technically for your room but you won’t be able to get it all the way up there by yourself right now so you can create a pulley system and pull it through the window. Huffing and puffing to your started mimicking your father.

           ‘Buy a fixer upper baby girl, it's a great investment. You could build your dream home and sell it eventually , it’ll be fun! Your brother and I will fly up there to help you whenever you need us or have free time. Matter of fact I’m pretty sure my army buddy Wilson still lives in New York…Not sure the part though. But I know he and his boy are engineers of some sort. I can even ring them up to help you when I can’t make it myself. This will be a terrific family project honey!’

           “ Sure dad!” you shouted at no one in particular “ who’s going to help me now though?!” At least your mother had the foresight to buy you a fully equipped toolbox, 12 foot ladder and a whole bunch of things that a new homeowner/renovator needs. It took a bit of maneuvering but you were able to get the ladder out the door and down the steps. You were now atop of it, building and hammering away at a pulley system. You were determined to sleep in a chilly 50 degrees tonight, by any means necessary. You saw two men one white and one black, approaching from your left through your peripheral vision. You steeled yourself to any cat calling that may occur, from the angle - to what you had on, it wasn’t a good situation. You couldn't make out faces but you could see that one was visibly bigger than the other. They stopped walking a little behind you and you couldn't tell which one asked but you heard someone say

           “Hi, do you need any help?”

           “O fanks” You replied with a slight lift of your hand with a screwdriver hanging out the side of your mouth and a heavy covering of sweat on your forehead. Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off you removed the screwdriver from your mouth and cleared your throat then repeated “No thanks” In a clearer manner. Thinking to yourself how could these guys even help me? While screwing and grunting softly you weren’t mentally present. You were trying to solve the problem you created. You had written yourself into a corner and you were trying to figure out a way out of it. You started to get the thread of an idea that you were mentally trying to work into a tapestry for your readers, however, while still trying to flesh it out something else was fighting for your attention. In the back of your mind you heard his voice again.

           “Are you sure? We may be able to be of better help than you thin-” Remembering your mothers call the night before talking about a movie she watched on lifetime where people in the ‘big city’ would help you get something into your house as supposed good Samaritans then come back and rob you, or do worse you decided against it instantly.

           “Listen, thanks but no.” You huffed out “Apparently I paid for the delivery service and not the installation service as the lovely delivery man told me. This however does NOT include carrying my AC up the 4 flights of stairs to my bedroom because that's apparently another fee. So no, there isn’t anything you gentlemen could do for me” You heard a little chuckle behind you and heard a quieter deeper voice say:

           “You have to pay the fees, that’s where they get you” his voice was full of laughter. He wasn’t outright laughing but you could still somehow hear it in his voice.

           Momentarily forgetting you were on a ladder you whipped around to give the guy a piece of your mind. But all it takes is a moment. And in that moment, you were falling backward off a 12 foot ladder. Back, back, back, you go thinking this is how it would end. You dead on the concrete. You hadn’t been to china town yet! Why hadn’t you been to china town? Or the empire state building! OR the statue of liberty! You shouldn't have rushed your mom off the phone last night. You would have given anything to hear her aimless ramblings and numerous ‘be carefuls’ one last time. OH GOD! You hadn’t had sex in a year and a half! This is how you were going to die. Trying to tell off some harassers with an uncompleted house in your name before you started your dream job. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for impact

           Your body hit something that was hard like cement but was warmer and…. Somehow smelled like leather? And Christmas? And Home somehow? You opened your eyes to see a face partially obscured by a blue baseball hat pulled down over the front and a full beard. You couldn't see who he was and he was leaning in close to your face while he held you. There was something so familiar about him, but you couldn't place it. His voice kept fading in and out of your head.

           “Ma’am? Ma’am! Stay with me!”

Sounding like echos of screams and whispers bouncing off the inside of your skull all at once you blinked slow and mustered out what you could:

           “Don't…Tell me what to do…Asshole” and everything faded to black.

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay guys! thats about it for the first one. I would really appreciate the feedback! Is this something you would want more of? Or should I move on to some other fic ideas I have? Let me know and thanks for reading!

[mwdders]

Unexpected love

Part 2

Summary: You’re Tom’s older sister and as your relationship sourly ends, you retreat to L.A. for some time away, not expecting to meet Sebastian Stan and fall for him. (There is a longer summary on my blog if you want to read that before reading this)

Paring: Sebastian Stan x reader and Sibling!Tom x reader

Warnings: swearing (I think)

Part 2/?

This wasn’t requested but if you enjoy this, and like my writing please message me requests.

Enjoy!

Update: link to part 3

https://bluediamondsevie.tumblr.com/post/184715355227/unexpected-love

—

You must of fallen asleep because when you woke up, Tom wasn’t sat next to you but you could hear a voice in the next room.

Standing up, allowing all your muscles to stretch you walk towards the door, feet padding across the floor.

“Haz, she’s broken. I’ve never seen her so upset before.” Tom said, and Harrison mumbled something you couldn’t hear, to which Tom replied, “She must of been putting on a brave face in front of you and Harry.” You furrowed your eyebrows before knocking on the door and opening it.

“Hey you’re awake.” Tom said as you entered the room, he was now back in jeans and a t shirt rather than his Spider-Man suit, you nodded, not wanting your words to fail you.

“How you feeling?” All anyone has done is ask if you’re okay, “I’m fine, please stop asking.” Your attitude shocked Tom and Harrison who both looked at you surprised.

“We just want to make sure you’re okay.” You rolled your eyes and walked out the door, they both followed you.

“Y/N.” You sat down and ignored them both, “Y/N! You can’t ignore us.” You picked up a magazine and began to read it. Harrison sighed, so did Tom, “Y/N look at me. I called Cam.” Your head shot up as the words left his mouth, “What do you mean you called Cam?” The anger was bubbling up inside of you,

“I spoke to him about everything, obviously after giving him a piece of my mind.” You stood up, “Tom you really shouldn’t of done that.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared at your brother.

“I had to! I saw how upset you were and I couldn’t just let him get away with hurting you.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “How dare you! This is my life, he was my fiancé, it was my shit to deal with Tom not yours!” Yelling was getting you nowhere because you could see Tom shaking his head disagreeing with you. “Y/N I’m your brother, I’m suppose to protect you and look out for you, and I had to do this.”

“No Tom, you didn’t.” You walked into the bedroom of the trailer and slammed the door shut, locking it behind you.

—

“You can’t hide in here forever Y/N!” Tom yelled as he shut the door to his trailer ending another argument.

You’d been arguing on and off for 4 days now, after the photos Cam sent you, you’d shut down, not talking, not eating, you felt so low, and so empty you didn’t know what to do except hide away and avoid everybody, also after what Tom did you didn’t feel like talking to him.

When new photos of Cam surfaced online with a new girl on his arm, not even a week after you’d separated, it made things worse, you didn’t feel human, you felt like a mind in an empty shell sinking deeper and deeper into the world of social media, reading everyone’s opinions about your break up wasn’t helping but it made you feel normal, it made you feel sane.

Tom tried to not be angry with you but as much as he hated seeing you upset he also hated you isolating yourself, mumbling words under his breath as he walked onto set everyone could tell he was angry.

“Woo, kid what’s wrong?” Chris asked him as he accidentally walked into him, Tom too caught up in his own thoughts.

“Oh sorry Chris, I was too busy thinking.” He said with a huff as he sat down in his chair. “What’s on your mind?” Tom sighed and put his head in his hands, “It’s my sister, she’s going through some stuff and I want to help but I don’t know how, she keeps pushing me away.” Chris nodded as he listened,

“Well what’s going on with her?”Tom sighed and explained everything, “Well she’s just broken up with her fiancé, well actually he broke her heart and naturally she isn’t taking it well and needed to get away so she flew out here and I thought it’d be a good idea, she could be in between set and my place and she could spend some time in the city, just taking her mind off everything?” Tom held his hands out using gestures to emphasis his words, “But all she’s done is hideaway in my trailer, she doesn’t talk to me, Harrison or Harry, she doesn’t eat, all she does is watch TV and cry.” He groaned, as Chris nodded and stayed silent for a moment as he processed Tom’s words.

“Okay so she’s going through a break up? And all the not talking and not eating is normal break up behaviour, and maybe she does just need time, to adjust to the realisation her relationships over? I mean it’s bound to hurt, she was going to marry the guy right?” Tom nodded, “Okay so just give her another day or two and see how things pan out and if she’s still the same then you can schedule an intervention and bring her to set! We’d love to meet her and help keep her distracted.”

Tom sighed, he knew Chris was right, and you did just need time but he still had a sinking feeling in his chest.

“Alright Tom you’re up! Let’s set for scene 30, is everyone ready?” Tom got out of his chair and ready to shoot the scene, he tried so hard to focus but his mind was only on you.

—

You reached for another tissue as you read another article online about you and Cam, you’d read so many you were running out of articles to read.

Social media was also boring now too, your relationship drama had passed and it seemed no one was talking about it anymore and you’d lost your sense of normality.

You stood up, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as you went to the kettle to make a cup of tea. You looked like hell, you’d not showered in days, let alone brushed your hair or done your make up, you were a living breathing ogre.

The kettled whistled as you sniffled, you’d not seen Tom this morning or Harry or Harrison, everyone was avoiding you and you were happy about it at first but now you were craving company.

Your eyes were heavy as you poured the water into your cup, adding milk.

Your phone was in the other room and before you could finish your brew it was ringing loudly. “Fuck sake.” You muttered under your breath, running slightly to get to the phone on time, but it rang off before you could and you were surprised that the missed call was from Cam and before you could even consider ringing him back he text you.

Cam: Didn’t mean to ring you, meant to delete your number, sorry. I’m deleting it now, maybe you should delete mine too?

The message knocked the wind out of you as you struggled to breath, he was taking this break up seriously and cutting all ties, you were still in denial about it all, hoping that maybe you could get back together but that was little chance of that happening by the way things were going.

You stumbled back slightly and into the living room, your back hitting the sofa as you fell, bringing your knees to your chest as you cried on the floor. You couldn’t breath, the sobs escaping your lips were silent and everything was blurry as tears clouded your vision.

“Hey Tom I couldn’t find-“ The man stopped talking when he saw you curled up in a ball behind the sofa, crying your heart out, and even though he didn’t know you, he walked over, crouched down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee and asked, “Hey,Hey, what’s wrong?” You looked up surprised at the man with the soft voice stood in front of you, who you realised was Sebastian Stan.

“I um-“ you composed yourself and swallowed the lump in your throat, “What are you doing here?” His eyes were full of sympathy, all though you got lost in the blue of them.

“Tom, he asked me to get his script and then I couldn’t find it or him so I came here thinking he might be here.” Sebastian stood up, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh erm, I haven’t see him. I’m Y/N, Tom’s sister.” You stood up and put your hand out for him to shake, he looked down at your hand noticing the huge rock on your ring finger, his heart dropped, of course a girl like you would be spoken for.

“I’m Sebastian.” He shook your hand anyway. “I know.” You said slowly with a giggle but it kept out more of a strangled sob, this surprised him, “Don’t look so scared, Tom talks about you and I obviously recognised you from seeing you on the big screen.” He nodded as if realisation had hit him that he was famous and of course you’d recognise him.

There was an awkward silence before he asked the question on the tip of his tongue, “You sure you’re okay? I thought you were going to drown in your own tears when I came in.” Your mouth opened slightly with how forward he was, “I’m okay, thank you.” You didn’t want to tell him anything, it was too soon to talk.

“Okay, well if you see Tom, tell him I was here. Bye er Y/N.” He smiled weakly before he left, leaving you to think over everything again.

—

Tag list: @melp1219 @memesmyselfandhate @marvelouspottering @coohlwhip @tastefulknife @vaultures @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @helloitsmeamie203 @kiran1245 @augustnightsx @meowmeow230 @coffees-and-constellations @celebsimagines @myfanstories

Part 3 later today or tomorrow!

[elprupneerg]

(trying to put my thoughts on this into words, but i’m not sure how to do it. so it’s gonna come out jumbled lmao)

so yes obviously diet culture has a horrible horrible effect on anyone a medical “professional” deems to be “too fat”, regardless of 1)whether the person is actually fat, 2)if the person has hormonal/lifestyle things that make being their current size actually extremely healthy for them, and 3)if the diet/exercise regime they’re promoting does nothing or is even actually harmful. i’m not denying any of that. i can’t imagine what y’all go through, and i wish you didn’t have to experience that. but there’s also a flip side that affects people who are underweight that i don’t see people talk about much.

i’m cold. all the time. basically the only times i feel warm are when i’m in the shower and when i’m driving a car that’s been sitting in the sun with the windows closed in summer. and i’m hungry pretty often, but if i try to eat a normal serving size i get a stomach ache. fucked up ideas my mom shoved down my throat my whole childhood keep me from eating at “weird” times, and strict school/work schedules finished the job. i never have energy. i get winded easily. my period gets fucked up on a regular basis (which admittedly could be due to a number of genetic things). i get weird bruises. there’s at least one selfie i’ve posted on here where i’m holding my phone with both hands because my hands were shaking so much that when i tried to take the picture one-handed it came out blurry.

last year when i went to my doctor, i told the nurse doing the initial part of the examination that i was worried that i was underweight. i was especially worried because i had lost 8 pounds in the last year (no matter what size you are, 8 pounds is pretty significant. for someone my size, that’s like losing one or two internal organs). when the doctor came in, the nurse said “[they’re] worried about [their] weight”, to which the doctor simply said “you’re not fat” and changed the subject. when i tried to come back around to the fact that i’d lost a rather large amount of weight in the past year, she simply blamed it on stress and moved along again. that wasn’t the first time a doctor dismissed my worries about my weight, just the most recent. there have been many other similar incidents, with my weight either being called healthy, or due to stress.

the worst part is people who say they want a body like mine. they’re usually older women, who think that they weigh “too much”. they’ve been surrounded by diet culture their whole lives, and think that i look healthy. it’s not even that i look like a supermodel or anything. i’m short, i have acne, my teeth are funky looking, and (in an attempt to look more androgynous) i don’t shave or wear makeup and tend to wear baggy clothing. but i’m skinny. never mind that you can see my veins, that the skin on my hands is so thin some days that it feels like you could tear it like paper. never mind that i can’t regulate my own body temperature, that my lips and fingers and toes turn blue when i go swimming, even on hot days. never mind that i now feel relieved when i get my period, even though it hurts, because i once went 3 months without a period because stress and lack of money for food and walking all day meant there weren’t enough calories left in my system to deal with menstruation.

never mind all of that. because i’m skinny. so that must mean i’m healthy

[nicolemagolan]

Two Cities, One Galaxy: How Star Wars Connects And Divides Us

Early in 2019, I wrote a personal essay about Star Wars. It centered around SWCC (Star Wars Celebration Chicago) and my experience of watching the live stream in my living room at 4am, when the episode IX teaser and title was unveiled. 

It’s about fandom, the internet, and isolation. It’s about how Star Wars impacted my life, and about my relationship with my brother.

It also, eerily, foreshadows the disappointment I would eventually feel about The Rise of Skywalker. So here it is, under the cut. Please give it a read, and let me know your thoughts!

***

My phone blinks 3:30am, April 13th, 2019. In Chicago it’s 10:30am, yesterday. I should be asleep. I should stay present in Auckland, where no one else is awake except the moths gathering on the kitchen window.

My brother is slumped beside me, eyes closed, lost somewhere between sleep and boredom. We sit in the darkness of our living room, outlined by the grey glaze of the television. I’m wearing pyjama pants and yesterday’s T-shirt. An empty bag of chips is screwed up on the carpet, a half-drunk can of Lift Plus sits on the mantelpiece.

I stare at the TV. Waiting. My knee bobs up and down. I glance at my phone, and refresh Twitter. The tweets are coming in a blur: people yelling in caps lock, streaming without punctuation, some of it indecipherable, some of it from me. It’s happening kids / MERRY IXMAS, EVERYONE / I'm trying to remember it's called Star Wars Celebration not Star Wars oh my god I'm so stressed-ebration / I AM READY TO BE EPISODE IXed. The world around me is asleep, but the world under my thumb has never been more alive.

I take another sip of Lift Plus and feel its energy tingle through my bloodstream. Or maybe that sensation is the force.

When I was in class earlier in the day, wearing a Star Wars tee, writing in a Star Wars notebook and drinking from a Star Wars bottle, I was already stewing in anticipation. My mind was in another galaxy; speculation ran through me like shooting stars. My dedication to the Star Wars universe is fuelled not by the incessant marketing or the cheap merchandise, but by the passion I have for stories, space wizards, and the cute-yet-creepy alien bird race known as the Porgs.

 Star Wars Celebration Chicago is set to begin livestreaming on YouTube in just a few minutes. A countdown slowly ticks on screen. This will be the first big panel of Celebration, and the one I am most eager to see. The panel is for Star Wars: Episode IX, consisting of a Q&A session with cast members. Our first real, palpable look at the film, at beloved returning characters, and the new additions, to hear from returning Director J.J. Abrams what his vision for IX is.

But the real reason anyone is staying up all night to watch the livestream isn’t to see Abrams dodge spoilery questions. It’s to be amongst the first to witness the Episode IX trailer. The very first teaser trailer. Imagine a choir singing angelic sounds behind that one word and maybe you’ll begin to understand. What I really want is to catch a glimpse of the upcoming film, to learn the title—oh my goodness, the title—along with thousands of far, far away fans; some watching live in the dead of night or crack of dawn. The lucky few are crowded into the panel room itself. I swipe through pixelated and blurry selfies posted with #SWCC. It’s a big auditorium, packed with media, families, and cosplayers, and many are swinging lightsabers above the crowd’s heads. Purple, blue, green, and red beams of light. The stage itself is lit up with a bright blue backdrop.

 When I told my parents I was going to camp out in the living room to watch the livestream of Star Wars Celebration, they rolled their eyes. When I asked my brother if he wanted to join me, he cried, ‘Whyyy,’ before revealing his true colours when he showed up on the couch at 2am.

He was all too keen to eat my snacks, but now as time crawls forward, he seems to have come to the conclusion that it is ridiculous to stay up for something you can watch on your phone, from your bed, when you wake up. I have come to the conclusion that he is lying to himself. On the path to the dark side, perhaps.

He’s always joined me on my silly adventures, making fun of me along the way. But the fact that he’s willing to be there is enough, as he is now. Star Wars has been a part of his life as much as mine; we grew up roaring Chewbacca impressions and fighting with cardboard lightsabers; He’d be Darth Maul and I’d be Obi-Wan (so I got to chop him in half every time). Kids would tell me I was a weirdo for liking Star Wars, for playing with Barbies and Darth Vader figurines, blurring the lines between allocated girls’ or boys’ toys. But my brother and I knew: Star Wars is a fun space adventure for whoever wants to enjoy it.

We got older and the movies lost a touch of their magic: the internet revealed the intense hatred shovelled at the prequel trilogy. Little-me had loved the ridiculous Jar Jar Binks, but the middle-aged fans who grew up with the original trilogy saw him as an offence to their childhood obsession. (JUSTICE FOR JAR JAR is the hill I will die on.)

Then Disney bought Lucasfilm and ushered in a new era. I have a series of selfies from midnight premieres—me grinning from ear to ear, my brother with eyes closed and discontented frown (his go-to photo pose)—in the blurry light of the Imax screen on Queen Street. But one glance at his smiling face during the film and you know he loves this galaxy as much as the next fan.

Sometimes that’s the problem: our love for this story is so great and so ingrained, that it can bubble over into endless online debates. Debates become heated, become personal, become hateful. In this era of social media, everyone has a voice, but the ones who spit poison are the loudest. We struggle to find common ground sometimes. But it’s always there, beneath out feet and on our TV screens. We love Star Wars. We love to watch it, re-enact it, dissect it, wear it, read it, and write about it. Whether the common ground we stand on looks like the sands of Tatooine or the lake country of Naboo, it’s all the same galaxy. Even though the galaxy-shattering film The Last Jedi threatened to destroy us, we can find a way to stand together. Because when the fans unite, at movie premieres, or conventions, the fandom can become something worth celebrating.

Like today, right now, 3:59am in my living room.

I look up from my phone. The countdown reaches zero. I hold my breath. A soft echo of music trickles through the speakers, and John Williams’ familiar score wraps around me like a blanket. Goose bumps pop up on my skin.

The Star Wars logo vanishes and the screen cuts to black. I snap up and nudge my sleeping brother’s arm with my toe. He jolts awake, looks at the black screen and scowls.

‘Nothing’s hap—’

He’s cut off by a roaring applause as the blue-lit panel stage lights up the screen. The room around me fades. I’m in Auckland with my brain fuzzy, and I’m transported to Chicago with heart thumping.

My brother jumps up and stands in front of the screen. ‘I’m going to the bathroom.’

I babble, ‘butthepanelisabouttostart,’ craning my neck around his legs.

‘Oh well,’ he says. He walks off.

Stephen Colbert is pacing around the stage, babbling on about Dagobah and S-foils, trying to work the crowd up—unnecessary, since we are all waiting for the cast and crew.

I’m leaning forward, straining my eyes, and wondering if anyone actually finds his ‘jokes’ funny. Twitter tells me, yes, they do. The excitement level is high, making everything fresh and exciting, even if it’s a Star Wars pun heard years ago. I almost feel like I could twist my neck and hear people whispering behind me, instead of tweeting alongside me.

 The closest thing to this feeling in my own city is Armageddon Expo, the annual convention at the ASB Showgrounds in Greenlane. Nerds I’ve never met become my best friends. We jam the halls like squashed-up skittles. I don’t know their names but I know who they are. When I’m dressed in Rey’s dusty scavenger outfit, with staff in hand and hair bunched in three bobbles, young girls point and giggle. I wave at them, their eyes wide with wonder, and my heart is full.

The internet fandom space is a mix of tweet-before-thinking garbage and fun bite-sized meta. The real-world fandom spaces, such as Armageddon, are a big geeky party; no one hiding behind an anonymous wall, and no one left out.

This livestream is somewhere in between. I am connected online from where I sit in Auckland. Reading tweets and writing tweets and liking gifs. Yet I am in Chicago, oblivious to the sleeping city around me.

Stephen Colbert brings out Director J.J. Abrams and head of Lucasfilm Kathleen Kennedy, and the content we’re all waiting for finally begins. I take in every detail, every non-answer. I enjoy it. I loathe it. Stephen Colbert asks unanswerable questions, like the fate of Daisy Ridley’s character, or how the relationships develop. No word is uttered more than ‘spoilers’.

The cast members are introduced onto the stage; first is Anthony Daniels who plays C-3PO—one of the remaining few original cast members from 1977. He waves hello to the crowd before looking for the cameras. In his charming British accent, he says, ‘On tweets today people were, all over the world, saying “wish I could be here”. And I know we’re on camera, so I don’t know where the camera is, but whoever is in Australia or…’ He pauses for a flicker of a second, ‘…all the other countries around the planet; I wanna give you a big wave, and you are here in spirit. Okay?’

I grin a little wider. Of course he would mention our neighbour, Australia. So close, and yet so far.

 In New Zealand, despite the growing connections through social media, I feel isolated. Even in the vast Auckland city, where I easily get lost in the busy roads and busy people. New Zealand is separate. And that’s part of what makes it special.

But the isolation is also part of what makes being part the Star Wars fandom special.

It’s a larger world. Out there in space; out there in the world wide web. Legendary or anonymous, you can be a part of something. You can tell your story; you can make one up. After movie premieres, there is a sense of privilege and power in that none of my fellow fans in America have yet seen the movie. The Last Jedi came here a few days early, and I knew all the things before anyone else. We were isolated again. And it felt so good.

Did I go and post spoilers? No, because I’m not an asshole (you know who you are). But I told people they’re gonna love it. I told them the film is exciting and unexpected and dabbles deliciously in subtext in a way that’s fresh for Star Wars. I sign off with eagerness for the upcoming dissection and discussion of the film.

 The next day I’m shocked to learn that many many many people felt it was a ‘betrayal’ of Star Wars. A disaster of a movie. A cluttered mess of a story, an anti-climactic sequel that instead of building on what came before, tore the past to shreds. My brother is one of them.

And the fandom split in two.

But not today. Not tonight. I refuse, and so does everyone on my Twitter feed, because we’re tired of defending Rey, who is not a Mary Sue; and Vice Admiral Holdo, whose purple hair does not make her a lesser fighter; and Rose Tico, who fell victim to dude-bros saying she’s the worst character ever, she ruined their childhood, and Asians don’t belong in Star Wars; until eventually the actress, Kelly Marie Tran, deleted all her social media.

When Kelly walks onto the panel stage, she gets a standing ovation. There are tears in her eyes, and there are tears in mine.

 They introduce the new cast members, and display behind the scenes photos, and babble on about the brilliant practical effects. There’s a touching tribute to Carrie Fisher, an awkward bit about Adam Driver’s chest, and the introduction of new droid D-O. When the duck-inspired droid rolls onto the stage, you can hear cash registers ring.

My brother comes back in the room as the panel is winding up. He flops into the chair and sighs. ‘So, did I miss anything?’

‘You missed everything.’

‘So I didn’t miss anything then,’ he smirks.

Stephen Colbert asks J.J. Abrams if there’s anything he wants to leave with the fans. I lean forward. ‘This is it,’ I screech.

This is it. It boils down to this simple, repeated moment in time: the day, or night, or very-early-morning that a Star Wars trailer is about to debut. I am alone, and yet so very not alone, united in a nerdy passion that doesn’t call for such depth of devotion. But here we all are. Here I am. And here’s Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (omg).

 I switch off the TV. The darkness eats my eyeballs.

‘How am I supposed to sleep after that!?’ I yell. ‘Palpatine. Freaking Pal-pa-tine! NO! YES! Why?!’

Silence.

My brother is asleep.

I throw a pillow at him. ‘DUDE! Palpatine is back!’

He mumbles, ‘Haha, lame.’ His eyes don’t open.

I slide down the couch until I hit the hard floor. The Rise of Skywalker. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. I sit there in the lonely living room, and let my thoughts trail off into the dark.

[lgbt-kpopimagines]

Jealousy (NCT’s Lee Tae Yong (Taeyong) x male!reader)

requested by anonymous

Rating: G

Written by: Admin N

Jaehyun and me had been friends even before his debut. And even after he became a part of NCT and his schedule got busy with practice, concerts and photoshootings, he always kept contact with me, kept inviting me over to his place, as he couldn‘t roam around too freely anymore. Fame came with a prize, after all. But I loved visiting him. It was at his dorm that I met and fell in love with my boyfriend, Taeyong. His sharp features and strong gaze quickly caught my attention, and his kind personality and appreciation for art, as well as his cute fads made me fall for him. I still remember when I volunteered helping Taeyong clean up after a big dinner he had cooked for everyone, because I wanted to be close to my crush. Jaehyun, well aware of the feelings I had for the older rapper, ushered the rest of the band out of the kitchen. I can‘t remember exactly how Taeyong and me went from scrubbing cooking oil off the stove to having our first kiss that evening, but that was what happened.

Of course, after that, my visits at NCT’s dorm became a habit. Jaehyun and Haechan were generously taking in Johnny when I slept in Taeyong’s room. I was glad that the other guys didn’t mind having a gay couple amongst them.

Me and Jaehyun’s year long friendship and closeness, however, sometimes made Taeyong anxious.

“Jaehyun is really good at basketball, isn’t he?”, he would ask. “Do you sometimes play together?” I weighed my head from left to right. “Sometimes.”

“Jagiya, do you like taller guys?” The sudden change in topic made me suspect he was comparing himself to Jaehyun.

“I like you, Taeyong. Exactly the way you are.” I kissed him and he pulled me closer, humming softly into my ear.

“Y/N, did you again go swimming with Jaehyun in the morning?” I knew he wasn’t asking casually, because some nervous shadow would lie in his gaze when he asked those questions.

It only happened occasionally, so I didn’t expect my friendship with Jaehyun to turn into the biggest drama of Taeyong’s and mine happy relationship. Until the day before NCT’s new album promotions. The promotions were only the starting shot of a two-month-long marathon consisting of photoshoots, fanmeetings, concerts, and practice, practice, practice for the band, so that was going to be my last evening with my boyfriend and Jaehyun for a while.

We were having a party at a locality of SM Entertainment, to have enough space and of course, Jaehyun drank a lot, because he can handle it. I got drunk myself, so my memory of the evening is blurry after some point. Taeyong can’t drink too much, I remember that he and WinWin left to buy snacks or something. Then there’s a cut in my memory. Next thing I know is me and Jaehyun singing, arm in arm, everyone laughing and partying, the music still loud. Another cut. Silence around us, Jaehyun was standing up to his waist in the indoor pool, which we had all to ourselves. I was sitting on the rim, splashing my feet into the water. I remember that I told him that he was too drunk to swim. He just laughed and came closer.

“Y/N, don’t worry, I’m with you, nothing can happen!”, he called out enthusiastically and pulled me into the water.

“Jaehyun, I hate you!”, I shrieked, splashing water at him, not caring too much about my wet pants.

“Y/N, I love you!”, Jaehyun laughed and then, in the heat of the moment, he kissed me. It was short and innocent, just a peck on the lips and when we pulled apart my surprise was reflecting in his face.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, let’s just get out of the pool.” I felt a bit sobered. Holy shit, we both had had too much.

In the end, I called a taxi to go home. Taeyong hadn’t returned, wasn’t answering his phone, and I was too drunk, tired and disappointed about him not showing up to stay any longer. Also, Jaehyun and me felt it was time to call it a day.

I awoke in the afternoon at home. When I checked my phone, I was surprised to neither find any message from Taeyong nor Jaehyun. But after all, they had their intense schedule from today on, so probably both of them were busy. I messaged my boyfriend, telling him that I had arrived home safely after the party, that I was already missing him and asked him for a phone call in the evening. When I remembered the scene in the pool with me and Jaehyun, I also texted my friend, apologized, and assured him that nothing was awkward between us. I knew we had been very drunk.

While Jaehyun answered me back late at night with an apology as well and some friendly jokes and stickers, Taeyong hadn’t even read my messages.

When I still hadn’t received any reaction from him the next morning, I tried to call him. I tried again at lunchtime, in the afternoon, in the evening, and a last time before going to bed. He never picked up. He didn’t read my messages. What the fuck had happened? Had he lost his phone? Ignoring the knot forming in my stomach, I shot Jaehyun a message, asking whether Taeyong was with the group and whether he might have lost his phone. An amused Jaehyun confirmed Taeyong’s presence, as well as the wellbeing of my boyfriend’s phone.

The knot in my stomach reappeared. What was wrong, why didn’t Taeyong answer me? I checked his Instagram, but he hadn’t updated anything so far. An anxious feeling that something was going on came over me, making it hard for me to fall asleep.

How little did I expect that moment that this anxiousness was just the beginning of weeks of tears and agony. Taeyong didn’t answer any of my phone calls. After a few days my messages appeared as “read”, but every text and voice message I sent afterwards was being ignored again. The band was not at their dorm, I couldn‘t go and try to talk to him in person. Every time he updated his Instagram account, my heart ached. There he was, just smiling into the camera, looking so perfect in his makeup and fancy outfits, every time with a different bandmate next to him. He never reacted to any of my comments under the photos neither.

Jaehyun only answered with delays, so until I had managed to tell him that Taeyong apparently had started to hate me without reason, three weeks of me crying myself to sleep had already passed.

I finally managed to get my friend on the phone and explain my dilemma.

Jaehyun sounded exhausted, but alert when he told me that he had noticed Taeyong mostly withdrawing into himself lately, listening to music during brakes, not interacting with the rest of the group.

“I haven’t talked to him one on one since promotions started, actually. I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow, Y/N, I promise.”

After that, Jaehyun didn’t get back to me for some days, in fact. I felt like I was going crazy. Just when I started to try finding out their current location over the band member’s social media, he finally called me.

“Y/N, so sorry, it’s been ages. Actually, they separated us to take individual shootings, and then we had the fanmeeting recently, so I could only talk to Taeyong today.” He cleared his voice.

“So...” In this tiny break, my heart stopped. I didn’t like how serious he sounded. Or was it just exhaustion?

“So, Taeyong is really pissed off for some reason. When I tried to ask him why he wasn’t talking to you anymore, he snapped. ‘As if you wouldn’t know! Don’t act all innocent Jaehyun!’ Then he just left me. I was dumbfounded, I don’t know Taeyong-hyung like that at all.”

I bit my lip. My thoughts were racing. Why was he angry at Jaehyun?

“Taeyong started ignoring me right after the party.”, I said.

“He’s angry at us both, apparently?”, Jaehyun added. There was silence on the line for some seconds.

“Do you think, Y/N… he saw me kissing you in the pool?”, Jaehyun’s voice was tiny and I felt my blood rushing into my feet. I sat down, my head was spinning.

“We were just drunk. It was just…”

“Is he that jealous?”, Jaehyun inquired.

“He sometimes asked about our friendship… Never directly, but I think he sometimes was worrying whether I might actually have a thing for you. Because we’re so close.”

Jaehyun cursed.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

I was fighting back tears.

“I want to talk to him.”, I said. Jaehyun let out a breath.

“We’re going back to Seoul tomorrow, as our concert there is in three days. Come to our dorm, we’ll explain this to him together.”

I couldn‘t sleep that night. It had been almost two months of silence between me and Taeyong. He must have seen that kiss. But instead of confronting me and giving me a chance to explain, he had just decided do be upset and grudgingly ignore me. I got angry in frustration and worry and kept tossing and turning around in my bed.

The dorm was quiet when Jaehyun opened the door. WinWin was sleeping on the couch, and Johnny waved at me with a curious expression on his face. He said nothing though, only gave me a thumbs up.

“I sketched out our problem to him”, Jaehyun explained, “after all, we need Taeyong alone.” My friend nodded towards Taeyong’s door.

My hands were sweaty when I opened the door of Taeyong’s and Johnny’s room. I found my boyfriend sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall, headphones covering his ears. When he saw me and Jaehyun, his eyes grew wide and a cascade of emotions shot through them – surprise, anger, sorrow, confusion, longing, disappointment – before he closed his eyes and turned his head away.

“You’re in the wrong room, you two. Why would you bring your boyfriend here, Jaehyun? To make fun of me?”

His words were like a punch to the stomach. Me and Jaehyun exchanged glances. Boyfriend?  

I sat down next to Taeyong while Jaehyun kept standing.

“Taeyong.” My voice was soft while my heart started hammering in my chest. “You’re angry at me and Jaehyun… Did you… did you see us in the pool at the party before your promotions?”

His head spun around, his eyes locked with mine, burning with anger and accusation. He firmly pushed his headphones down.

“Yeah, I was looking for my boyfriend and instead found you and Jaehyun kiss and being all lovey-dovey back then!”, he spat into my face, furiosly shooting glances in Jaehyun’s direction.

“So, congratualtions on finally having the boyfriend you wanted all along! For what reason did you actually date me then, Y/N? Make yourself look interesting to your life-long-best-friend? Show him that you’re actually into men, subtle signalling and so on?”

Taeyong leaned closer to me and I leaned back. I could feel that he had kept all this bottled up until now, the space between us was brimming with his anger.

“He’s taller than me, he’s younger than me, he’s been close to you for ages, his body is gorgeous-”

Jaehyun made an uncomfortable sound.

“Jagi, no” I firmly interrupted when I saw tears forming in Taeyong’s eyes.

“Me and Jaehyun are not dating! And we never will!”

“We were both super drunk that night.”, Jaehyun added quickly. “I got carried away, Y/N said he hated me, well, so I said I loved him and to stress my drunk rambling, pecked him on the lips. It was not even a proper kiss! There’s nothing going on between us. We were just being two stupid, very drunk friends!”

Taeyong suspiciously looked from me to Jaehyun and back.

“But you… called with Y/N so many times, Jaehyun...”

“Because Y/N was crying to me about you not answering him!” Haehyun rolled his eyes.

Taeyong paused, his furious energy faded.

“Why didn’t you confront me, Taeyong?”, I asked gently.

He hesitated. “I… didn’t want to intrude into your newfound happiness. I just wanted to forget.”

Jaehyun moaned.

“You could’ve saved everyone a lot of emotional distress, Hyung!” My boyfriend bit his lip.

“I love you, Taeyong.”, I said, carefully taking his hand. “Jaehyun is just a friend and will always be. Please forgive us the accident at the pool.”

“It really had no meaning at all!”, Jaehyun insisted.

Taeyong interlaced his fingers with mine, avoiding my eyes.

“So… you still want to be me boyfriend, Y/N, even though I’m a jerk?” He seemed embarrassed.

“Well yes of course!”, I insisted and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. I felt so relieved to have him back. Taeyong squeezed my hand before letting his head sink against my shoulder. Jaehyun smiled at us, then left with an apologetic nod.

“I love you too, Y/N”, Taeyong said as soon as the door had closed behind him, “I missed you a lot. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

[vagrantblvrd]

Skies So Blue (1/1)

Summary: There’s always a problem when it comes to the crew.

Always.

Said problems range from minor inconveniences like a diet eCola shortage in the penthouse to life-threatening injuries. (Sometimes one leads to the other because the ones with an addiction to the stuff are certifiable, but that’s another problem altogether.)

Notes: An Anon wanted my thoughts on this GTA V video. :D?

(Read on AO3)

There’s always a problem when it comes to the crew.

Always.

Said problems range from minor inconveniences like a diet eCola shortage in the penthouse to life-threatening injuries. (Sometimes one leads to the other because the ones with an addiction to the stuff are certifiable, but that’s another problem altogether.)

The current problem is that Geoff’s out of town for business and he took both Alfredo and Matt, arguably the last two sane members of the crew left besides Trevor himself. And while Trevor is in charge these days, you wouldn’t notice by the way they act.

(Geoff warned him though, when he and Lindsay handed the reins over. Told him all about how they were horrible human beings and, “God have mercy on your soul, because the bastard sure as hell had none for mine,” and left for what he insisted was a long overdue vacation from the crew. Lindsay had laughed as she patted him on the cheek with a “You poor, stupid bastard,” before going off to rain chaos on the unsuspecting now she was free to do so.)

Geoff is out of town, the crew treats Trevor like a substitute teacher in an 80s/early 90s movie, and to make matters worse? It’s been a while since the crew’s pulled a heist or a job that requires more than the bare minimum from them.

They’re bored.

They’re bored and Trevor’s learned that a bored Fake AH Crew is a dangerous Fake AH Crew because they make their own entertainment.

While some good things have come out of their shenanigans in the past – improved team morale for starters – said shenanigans also draw unwanted attention from local law enforcement that’s no good for future plans they may have.

So.

“You...want me to kidnap you.”

Trevor grins, nice and friendly and holds up the wad of cash he’s offering as payment to a fine young gentleman.

New enough to Los Santos that he hasn’t heard (too much) about the Fakes aside from a few key points. (Big crew, don’t fuck with them or you’ll be sorry, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.)

Hasn’t heard about their more outrageous exploits or what they like to do to blow off steam for their own enrichment. (Pack of idiots rolling a pumpkin around their enclosure and all.)

Most importantly, he’s just stupid enough, greedy enough, to be blinded to the amount of money Trevor’s offering for an afternoon of driving him around.

“Well I mean,” Trevor says, goes a little singsong. “’Kidnap’ is such an ugly word, you know. All these connotations to it. No, no.”

Goodness no.

“I want you to steal a car for me.”

The guy – Frank? Jimmy? Trevor doesn't remember, and if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t care.

See, Trevor asked around, got a short list of potential candidates for this little task that might need a reminder of how things work in Los Santos. A quick little tutorial for the ones new to town like this fine fellow who’s already ruffled a few feathers.

“...The car you will be in,” Lyle? Kyle? says, nice and slow, like he’s solving one of the world’s greatest mysteries. “That one.”

Trevor tips his head to the side.

“If you don’t want to earn some pocket money, I can always find someone else who will,” Trevor says.

Because Los Santos.

Chock full of people like this one.

The guy squints at Trevor.

Big guy. Somewhat imposing, if you happen to be easily imposed. Nose that’s been broken at least once and rough around the edges (aren’t they all, though?). Scruff going on to make him seem older and admirably suspicious because it is an odd request.

“What’s the catch?”

Trevor doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.

“Oh, you know,” he says, big, big smile. “The usual.”

========

Gerald, Trevor’s going to call him Gerald, takes the offer.

“Sure, why the fuck not?”

It’s a lot of money just to steal a car, and Trevor was reliably informed Gerald would do just about anything for the right price.

Sold a lot of people out for less, or so Trevor’s heard. Has a habit of screwing over his partners and so on and Trevor is delighted the man’s greed has gotten the better of him yet once again. Makes having to send one of the others to pay him a little visit unnecessary later.

Birds and stones, and a delicious touch of karma because some of the people Gerald’s fucked over were theirs and that simply won’t do.

Gerald doesn’t seem to have caught on just yet, but Trevor’s sure he’ll figure it out along the way.

========

There are rules to this, of course.

The others may use any and all vehicles at their disposal, but weapons aren’t allowed.

If, for example, one of them were to get their hands on a Lazer from Zancudo, they’re not allowed to use missiles (homing or otherwise) or the cannons. (If they get their hands on tank, just. No.)

Gerald is likewise forbidden from using weapons. In case he were to get ideas, what with Trevor riding along in the backseat of their vehicle and all. (Trevor’s wearing his favorite clothes and would just hate to get blood on them.)

Other than that, it’s a free-for-all, which in Trevor’s experience always goes smoothly with this bunch.

========

“Oh, my,” Trevor says, watching a Cargobob overshoot them. “That was a close one, wasn’t it.”

Gerald swears, anger and something like panic creeping into his voice and for good reason. The crew is out in force today, Cargobobs overhead and stolen police cars behind. A generous smattering of other stolen vehicles all over the place and they’ve only been at this for twenty, thirty minutes at the outside.

Very dramatic, all of it.

Pulse-pounding adventure and danger. High-speed chases and the car’s engine is making this distressing noise, smoke coming from its engine.

Trevor waves as an SUV goes screaming past, and snaps a picture with his phone – it’s bound to turn out blurry and out of focus, but he’s sure Jeremy will appreciate the thought behind it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Gerald demands as he puts their poor car in reverse, aiming for a side street they passed. “I mean, seriously. What the fuck?”

Trevor grins and takes a picture of Gerald as he scowls at Trevor in the rearview.

For memories.

“Creative types,” he says, which isn’t stretching the truth at all. The others come up with the most...inventive heists and all sorts of shenanigans. “Wacky.”

========

After the Tank incident several years back, about the time Trevor got dragged into the madness that is the Fake AH Crew, they’re forbidden from bringing a tank into the city.

APCs and the like, however, are not tanks.

“Holy shit,” Gerald whispers, the very image of a broken man. “Holy shit.”

Trevor hmms, and checks to make sure his seat-belt is secure.

“Indeed,” he agrees, and it’s such a shame he ran out of physical room on his phone for videos because their tiny little car facing a line of Brickades is a stunning sight.

Gerald makes this noise in the back of his throat, and Trevor can see the moment he throws all caution to the wind and has his fuck it, what the fuck moment as he puts his foot to the pedal and they shoot forward.

While there are several Brickades present, there aren’t enough to create an effective blockade. More to intimidate than anything else, and Gerald squeezes their car through the narrow gap left open to them with inches to spare. (At least two, possibly three.)

========

There’s a small flock of drones buzzing around them and a Terrorbyte bearing down on them at the other end of the runway. (Not great odds, but Gerald is proving to be quite resourceful or just incredibly lucky.)

“Are those goddamned blimps?”

There’s also a parachute in the air, and by the rainbow pattern it has to be Gavin.

“They’re faster than you’d think,” Trevor says, “and surprisingly maneuverable.”

He smiles, bland little thing, when Gerald gives him an incredulous look.

========

“Why the hell do you people have so many vehicles?”

Trevor glances up from his phone.

“Sorry, what?” he asks, and Gerald repeats himself with a skosh more emphasis this time.

Trevor shrugs, glancing out his window at the freight train they're keeping pace with, occasional flashes of color as the others tries to land on one of the flatcars. They look like dolphins swimming alongside ye olde sailing ships.

Beautiful and graceful even in failure.

They’re being (gently) herded back to Los Santos, although Gerald seems to think he’s still in control of their destination and not the other way around.

“Well I mean,” he says, and shrugs again. “Nice things.”

Shiny, shiny things. Like a kid in a candy store, his crew. See something flashy, shiny and have to have it. Come up with an idea for a heist to get their hands on it or some form of shenanigans or what have you.

Gerald stares at him in the rearview mirror as though he’s realized they’re all a bunch of lunatics.

========

Like all good things, this merry little chase Gerald’s been leading the others must end.

Unlike all good things, it ends with a blockade created with a handy-dandy rocket launcher, several parked cars, and a crashed ultralight as several Cargobobs hover overhead. (They really do love their Cargobobs.)

Also, Ryan hauling poor Gerald out of the driver’s seat where he’s in the process of beating the everloving shit out of him.

Trevor can’t hear whatever Ryan’s telling Gerald as he teaches him a lesson using violence – he’d be a terrible teacher – but he can guess.

Winces as Ryan drags Gerald in for one last doozy of a punch before dropping his unconscious body to the ground, shoulders heaving a little from exertion. Sees Ryan take a moment to compose himself before he makes his way back to the battered car that’s somehow survived the day’s activities.

He unlocks the door and smiles up at Ryan when he wrenches it open like a brute.

“Hello, Ryan,” he says, bright and cheerful. Flattens a hand against his chest and bats his eyes up at the strong, burly man who rescued him from the clutches of the vile kidnapper. Says, with a terrible Southern accent, “My hero.”

Ryan stares at him for a long, long moment, and then he sighs.

All dramatic about it too, the way Geoff gets sometimes as though life is an endless bout of pain and suffering and woe is him, woe is him.

“I hate you,” Ryan says, matter-of-fact, just a simple little declaration.

Trevor smiles.

“I’m sure you do,” he says. Tips his head to the side. “But the real question is, are you still bored?”

There’s a (literal) trail of crashed and ruined vehicles behind them marking the meandering path Gerald took and who knows how much in property damage.

Chaos, panic, and so on. (Par for the course for them.)

Ryan opens his mouth, and pauses.

Unconsciously mirrors Trevor by tipping his head the opposite direction as he considers Trevor’s question. Makes this annoyed sound when he finds his answer.

“...No,” he admits.

Trevor beams at him.

“Well there you go, then!” he says.

The crew had an exciting day and Gerald got his comeuppance for fucking over one of theirs. (Most likely he hasn’t connected the dots, but if he hasn’t there’s always next time.)

“You’re a lunatic,” Ryan says, as though a sane man would be in Trevor’s position with the crew.

Trevor laughs, because yes, but also -

“Thank you, Mr. Vagabond. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Ryan snorts and steps back to let Trevor out of the poor battered car that’s somehow survived everything they threw at it today.

Trevor looks around at the destruction, random people gawking far too close for their own safety. Looks up, and smiles at the Cargobobs circling the area.

The lone Frogger, because Lindsay.

Back down at Ryan who’s got his hand pressed to his earpiece as he talks to the others to let them know Trevor’s “mugger” has been neutralized and Trevor himself is unharmed and so on and so forth.

He feels something a lot like fondness as Ryan keeps shooting him these little looks, giving that up t some point to stand beside him. Shoulder touching Trevor’s because then at least, he’ll have some warning if Trevor slips away to start a bonus round to their little game.

Overhead one of the Cargobobs separates from the pack and looks for a good place to land to ferry them back to the penthouse, and the faint sound of sirens sound in the distance.

Good old LSPD and various emergency services leaping into action now that the Fake AH Crew has finished another one of their games and it’s safe for people to come out to deal with the mess left behind. It’s an odd agreement, understanding, they have, because this kind of game isn’t about body counts the LSPD’s learned it’s better in the long run if the crew get to have their fun.

Trevor laughs at the absurdity of it all because they’re all a little mad here, aren’t they? Keeps things interesting.

“Madman,” Ryan says with a little shake of his head and something like amusement in his voice. “Let’s go home.”

Well, the penthouse, really.

Celebratory drinks, and takeout set to embellished recounting of the day’s adventures. Plans for future rounds with a few tweaks thrown in, and this overall sense of accomplishment on Trevor’s part because the damn pumpkin worked.

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

So I have a rant and a half build up of rambling about my very first Percy Jackson Oc Elysia and I need to let it spill so all of you get to hear this info dump about her and my feels

Im putting a trigger warning here I made her when I first read the whole series a few years back. Her backstory isnt the happiest. So im going to put trigger warnings for mentions of (but not going into detail of) abuse, self harm, suicidal thoughts, so if you cant handle mentions of that please dont read this I dont want to upset you

Anyways I have years of work into this bab of mine and I need to get it all out

Also An important thing to note is the timeline of her(and my other ocs) stories. Basically it kinda takes place...as if Trials of Apollo didnt happen?? Sorta? I made her before it ever came out and set her story after Blood of Olympus before trials of apollo was announced so its basically diverges after Blood of Olympus...if that makes sense...I hope it does. 

So basically....At the start of her story Elysia is 13 Nico is 16(from what I remember its been about two years since I read the books so please forgive me)

Ok this might jump around alot because im kinda word vomiting and info dumping about her so if something doesnt make sense please feel free to ask me to clarify I love to

OK SO MY BAB

So her full name is Elysia Angela Melina and shes a Daughter of Hades. At the start when she gets to camp shes 13.

Im going to attatch two pictures ive drawn of her to the post here

This is her with a referrence sheet of her at 13-14 and the digital picture is one of her at the present time that I tend to write about her at age 16.

So Elysia doesnt have things easy. She comes from an abusive household that really fucked her up mentally and emotionally before she got to camp. She ran away at 13 after getting kicked out of her sixth or seventh school and thigs got ugly at home. Stuff happened and she was brought to camp(im refining and probably going to redo how that happens) and well...she doesnt exactly fit in.

Shes on the shorter side for her age and shes lanky and skinny(partially from both skipping meals and sometimes only eating when she can sneak food at home) and she comes onto the scene wearing oversized hand me downs in all dark colors and long sleeves thats got a clear fearful and insecure posture and stance and is always trying to blending into the background and hide from being noticed. Shes got a thick mane of not very well cared for black hair and eyes so dark in color they look completely black, sometimes even in the light with pretty dark bags under them highlighted by really really too pale skin. So it makes her an easy target to be bullied ya know? But she silently takes it like she always does while clutching this beat up little backpack she ran away with as shes put in the Hermes cabin until she’s claimed(which has a 1-3 day delay depending on the god, because a lot of kids come to camp especially at the start of summer) 

When she gets claimed she freaks out and panics because everyone is staring at her and shes suddenly the center of attention because it happened in the middle of the campfire.

So begins the bonding with her big brother.

Shes got alot of inner turmoils and traumas and problems and inner demons and as a result she has undiagnosed anxiety disorders, depression, and some PTSD along with a very low amount of self-esteem and confidence in herself from the ordeals of before reaching camp. Though once shes at camp and she eventually settles in she starts recovering bit by bit. She slowly gets close with nico(it starts kinda awkward for both of them and she comes off really quiet and shy and terrified of sudden movement so its a little hard but they overcome it)

 By the end of her first year at camp shes gotten close to Nico but has a really hard time making friends with other campers her own age so she ends up sticking close to Nico and following him like his shadow because theres a period of time that heś the only person Elysia feels even remotely safe and comfortable around. And as a result at first she spends alot more time with Nico’s friends and various members of the Big Seven and she gets close to them as well(more to her siblings at first but she gets there shes a nervous bean give her time)

Though in the middle of that first year she meets a girl that soon becomes one of her best and closest friends, a daughter of Hephaestus named Karter Becks(the second oc for this fandom I made) and I’ll get to more about their friendship later.

So by the second year at camp shes settled in a little, shes decidedly become a year-rounder because she would rather be eaten by a harpy than go back to “that horrible place”as she dubs it(not to mention its very very dangerous for her outside of camp)

More things about Elysia!!!

At thirteen she had absolutely NO control of reign of her abilities. She couldnt raise or summon the dead, her shadow travel was horribly spotty and half the time she couldnt even do so correctly and her most experience with spirits is that she can sense them and she can hear and speak to them but she cant really see them( they appear as really really blurry shapes that hurt her eyes to look at for too long) of course she beats herself up over this lack of skill, mostly because she(stupidly but understandably) compares her lack of teaching and training and beginner skill level to Nico’s at the time current skill level. Yeah its dumb and yeah in the back of her mind where her common sense is she realizes this but she cant stop herself from doing so, just like she unfairly to herself compares her sword fighting skill to older campers that have been there longer. 

She eventually gets her own sword of Stygian Iron, because no matter what else she tries no other swords feel...right to her. They’re always too heavy or too light too awkward to hold dont work right with her swings or just dont feel right to her so at some point shes overthinking herself to death about it and beating herself up for being too picky when Karter suggests innocently that she tries swinging around her brother’s sword. “After all Elys, whats the worst that would happen, that it feels too heavy?” 

But what ends up happening is that though its too heavy for her, it still feels...right. The best way to describe it is that she feels more connected to her powers and to herself in a way. After hearing that she gets her own of Stygian iron and its...perfect to her. Its not too heavy on her wrist or too light to wield. And afterwards she actually starts getting some more confidence which helps her improve a little faster than before.

Once Elysia is fully apart of camp life it takes a long time for it to fully click that her belongings...are hers and her likes and interests and likes are respected. They wont get taken away or threatened, she doesnt have to hide what she likes or pretend she doesnt like one thing or another. She’s free to be her own person for the first time in her life and she struggles for awhile to adjust to that and accept it. Those struggles result in alot of scattered breakdowns and even one or two...relaspes that for once in her life she has a support system of her half brother and half sister, his friends, her two close friends, and chiron to catch her and help her back to her feet. She has people to lean on and depend on and not have to be afraid of and this helps alot into her recovery and acceptance of herself and her mental illnesses. It takes her two of the three years shes been at camp for her to get at the better place shes at when shes 16, where she now has a small group of good friends, shes managed to bring up some of her self-esteem and self  confidence, shes been clean for a year and shes in therapy for her PTSD and depression and shes opened up more to those around her and shes not the terrified jumps at her own shadow kid but a more quiet but kindhearted and sometimes even giggly teen whose slowly getting her life back together with plans for the future.

But on the topic of things she likes...

This girl loves-no ADORES animals, all kinds mythical or not. She didnt show it at first but she was so SOOOO excited when she realized the camp had Pegasi even though she tried to keep a distance from them because she realized she made them nervous. Oh man you shouldve SEEN her when Chiron took a group of campers her age into the woods and they caught a glimpse of a passing through unicorn. She was giddy about it for DAYS guys. She just...she has so much love and admiration and excitement for animals its so cute you guys.

Elysia also loves(ironically) learning about Mythology, from all over the world. Its her special interest and when she finds and buys a old broken touch screen phone(or one of those touch screen i-pod or something) and gets Karter  to fiddle with it and (eventually after shenanigan filled misadventures of trying to upgrade it to not be detected by monsters and fix the cracked screen) she fills that thing to the brim of downloaded auidobooks of different mythologies as she can and she listens to them when doing schoolwork(she ends up having do be “homeschool” by online classes because things just do not go right when trying to attend schools outside of the protected borders)

She also loves anything soft. Especially stuffed animals. Oh my god she loves stuffed animals, well into her teens. She had one she managed to bring with her to camp that is her ultimate comfort object, a older beat up and been through a life time of ringers and back stuffed husky doll that she cherishes and takes care of like one might take care of gold. Over time (once they found out her birthday--October 5th) she starts getting stuffed animals as presents or just even as little splurges on herself . She also loves soft blankets soft clothes soft anything. She loves the texture and feel of it and it makes her happy.

She’s an aspiring writer and songwriter and can even sing a little but she has no confidence in her ability in any of those. But she has boxes and piles of notebooks and journals filled with little cartoony doodles and pages upon pages of stories and songs shes been writing for years now

Fun fact during her first year at camp Percy and Annabeth dropped by for a visit during their winter break to visit friends and I have this whole little story I might post about hoe when Percy’s walking to go meet someone he finds Elysia sitting alone at the beach doodling animals in her journal and he goes up to her(shes sitting all curled up so at a distance it probably looked like she was crying or something) to see if shes ok and because Nico had been telling him about her via iris messages and updates since she got there but he didnt get to meet her during the summer(stuff happened and she kinda hid from alot of people) but he finds her and he sits with her(after announcing his presence because Nico has told him about her being very jumpy and easily scared and that at that point hes the only one she really opens up to so dont take offense to it) and they sit for a bit and Percy asks her about her doodles and she just, for the first time like ever, she starts to open up because she gets so freaking excited and hyper about it that she just starts babbling away about her doodles and the animals of them and then about animals in general and she goes on this whole, like 30-40 minute info dump/ rant about them complete with diverting tangent questions that she answers herself before continuing with this just lit up and openly happy and ecstatic expression as she goes on and on while hes sitting there just listening to her and smiling down at her partly nostalgically because at that moment she reminds him so much of how Nico was when he first met him and you got him started on Mythomagic and that shes being so open about her excitement and then she looks at him and realizing what she was doing and she shuts herself up now panicking about how much she just word vomited on her big brother’s friend and more importantly this huge shot demigod Son of Poseidon whose saved the world not once but TWICE and who is probably very busy too busy to be hanging around with her--you get the idea of her panicking until Percy slowly reaches out his hand and she nods to let him know its ok and he ruffles her hair and tells her its ok he liked listening to her and holy shit I went on a tangent about that. 

She also has alot of sweet bonding moments with Nico and Hazel because they teach her about having a loving and caring family and what thats like and its really sweet and cute and emotional

Did I mention she likes taking Nico’s shirts? Oh yeah she likes “borrowing” Nico’s shirts, and some of his jackets, mostly t-shirt and long sleeved shirts because once they get close his scent and presence really relaxes her nerves if she gets anxious. Of course its not stealing, its just borrowing and eventually giving back on laundry days...or he just lends it to her without being fully aware of it. Its cute because shes so short that they end up really big on her and she loves flapping the sleeves and the feeling of being engulfed in the safety of his presence without him even being there

ANYWAY COUGH COUGH 

uhhhhhhh....yeah thats alot about her huh I think i’ll leave you all with that to take it and make sense of and I might make a part two(or you guys can ask about her too) 

and yeeeeeeeeeee thats my PJO oc Elysia Melina!!

@phantommoonpeople 

@kid-crashed

@demidorks (im sorry if im bothering you by tagging you youre one of the pjo blogs I follow and one of my favorites)

[stagnot]

POST REJECTION: FIVE TIMES SOMEONE ASKS GENDRY A QUESTION AND HE ISN’T SURE OF THE ANSWER, AND THE ONE TIME HE IS.

for @xneedlepoint because i guess we love pain ????

i.

“ye’ sure ye’ want t’ do this?” mya asks.

gendry isn’t really listening to her. the sound of the coffee is still brewing behind them. gendry hasn’t showered yet. he doesn’t like not having showered yet. he was supposed to go to work, check out his emails for new projects or the red keep, and she was supposed to come on over if she hasn’t already filled her schedules with spending them with her family. her snapchat video that she sent of her and bran at the dog park has been something he rewinds so many times, he’s certain his phone stopped workin’ with how much he’s exhausted it.

but that isn’t true. it stopped workin’ ‘cause gendry never really charged it again. the new phone — huawei, not iphone because they’re rubbish, gen, edric had argued when he had come over the other day, and they’re only robbin’ you off your money, is all — is sitting there idly where mya had plugged it in. it’s purple in colour. gendry doesn’t know why it’s purple in colour. he wants t’ take a picture of it and watch her laugh her arse off before lyin’ through her teeth about how maybe he could pull a purple phone off. he couldn’t, and they both know it, but he’ll tell her the password for everything on it, anyways. it’s his now, as much as it’s hers.

except it isn’t. not anymore.

gendry runs a hand down his face. he wants tea more than coffee, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell mya that after she drove all the way from the vale — again — just to take care of him for the third time this week. 

“no.” gendry says, voice cracking a little bit, “but i 'ave to.”

she’s leaving in a few days but everything about this place still reminds him of her. gendry isn’t sure, but the boxes are coming in anyways. uncle renly’s letter of the new job is in a file he keeps along with other documents his mother wouldn’t have cared much for and tobho mott would’ve hid away only to forget if he asks. the moving truck has been called, and the new tenant have already approved of gendry and is waiting, he is, on the date they’ve agreed he’ll come. gendry isn’t sure, no, never - but he has to be.

ii.

“you sure you’re alright on your own?”

loras is kind. maybe a bit too kind. gendry doesn’t mind kindness. stormlands is different than king’s landing. the land of it is only slightly older, but already the architecture and landmark of the place showcases more ancient structure and olden streets. they’re very well maintained though, and the culture so far is way homelier than the slums of fleabottom had been. gendry likes it. but he’s alone. lately, always so alone. and loras is kind, gendry knows that, but how kind can loras be if gendry starts shaking his head and beg, plead, cry to never leave him like this: in a vacant house with only half-a-bed made and boxes of his life stacked one by one, spilling into every corner, and a heartbreak the size of her planted at the heart of his chest?

maybe not so kind.

it’s a good thing gendry’s never been much of a sharer. aye, true, he wears his emotions easily on his sleeve, he’s been told - but he can be quite stubborn in making sure his mouth is shut when he wants them to be.

gendry only ever told arya everythin’, hot pie had said once when they had a pizza-and-bad-movie night. they called it that because lommy would google the top hundred worst movie’s ever made and they would all collectively groan and cuss at the extremely horrible movie effects. gendry had thought it was absolutely bonkers that anybody would ever spent time watchin’ films that have been rated and reviewed so negatively - until he realises the simple activity o’ it was quite therapeutic.

i bet there isn’t one thing gendry’s never told her about before.

gendry looks at loras now, blinking. by the door, he can catch uncle renly’s shadow as he animatedly talks into the phone. they’ve actually got a date night, the both of them, by seven. renly’s assistant had double-booked and jumbled the schedules between a free day and the day they were supposed to help gendry moved in. gendry’s been told it’s an exclusive restaurant that’s difficult to secure a reservation for, but they can, if they have to. we’ve given them fake names for security sake, but m’sure if one of us reveals our true names, we might be able to shuffle a few things around, loras said, confident and charming, but gendry had felt bad anyways.

“don’t worry about me. have fun. both o’ you.”

when the door shuts and the scenery of the new city stares back at gendry, he thinks about this one thing hot pie is wrong about.

iii.

“who’s this?”

gendry has no idea how he’d agreed letting the crew in. he’d only been working for six months, going seven, and while he isn’t quite actively hated as he’d predicted he would’ve been - gendry isn’t quite the sort, no, to just have offered his place as a venue of hangin’ out. yet, it’s three am and beers are being passed around as if gendry’s been anticipating this turn of event all along. jimmy burps so loud in the livin’ room that the ripples o’ it in the air shakes the wall, gendry thinks, and garland uploads the video on his instagram story.

it isn’t too bad of a night, no matter how much gendry thinks he might regret this thought later, until linda starts pickin’ at his drawers.

linda is pretty. dark hair and wide, curious eyes. she manages a lot of their projects and makes sure all of the steel the team is expected to create goes according to what the client wants. when the team makes a mistake, linda is swift in defending her co-workers. when linda showed up one day with a different shade of lipstick, gendry had told her she looked nice. linda blushed so high up her pale cheeks that gendry believes he spent the next five minutes mirroring her actions and thinking he’d said somethin’ wrong.

“nobody.” gendry lies. in the polaroid picture, arya is over his shoulder. gendry is laughing. in his ears, he can hear her laughing with him too. the corner of his mouth is covered in the frosting where arya has smeared her seventeeth-birthday cake. he looked ridiculous. arya was wearing that skinny jeans that he liked. “a friend. old one.”

“what happened?” linda puts the polaroid away, turns to him. gendry is suddenly aware that she’s on his bed. open. vulnerable.

“we grew up.”

i asked her to stay, and she didn’t want t’.

“i moved away.”

“ah. that happens.” linda starts talking about a high school friend that she loved but had to be separated away from. she’s got a few kids now, if you can believe that, linda adds. sent me christmas cards and everythin’, but it’s never the same, y’know? no. gendry doesn’t know. because linda doesn’t understand. nobody does. arya isn’t - some high school friend that he had a fallin’ out with. isn’t some girl that he shagged or dated a few times but it all went wrong. she was - everything. she was his best friend, she was his only friend sometimes, and he fucked it all up. got drunk and misty-eyed and bloody proposed when he’d never as much taken her on a damn date or asked her if she has even liked him like that. she’s gone now and gendry can never have her back.

linda and the crew leaves. gendry learns to always lock his door when there are guests around.

iv.

“do you know what date it is t’day, mate?”

gendry sucks in the cigarette, squints. when he huffs out the smoke, he pretends it’s all the bad particles of the activity that’s killing him. not his own chest caving its bones in towards his heart at the reminder.

her birthday her birthday her birthday her birthday her birthday—

he shakes his head. “no.”

v.

[Are you sure you want to delete this?]

the message on the phone blinks back at him. 

gendry’s eyes are blurry from staring at all of the messages that he never sent.

[Sick view. Bet you wish ur here.]

[Bad day. Want to see that vide of you falling on your arse. Or fencing :( ]

[Got the gas in today. You coming to try cooking at mine for once, right?]

[Hope your day’s better.]

[Rough time. Tom’s sick. Work got heavy. Haven’t shaved. I’m hungry.]

[Wish you’d call. Wish you’d know this number.]

[I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m a bloody idiot. Forgive me?]

[Should’ve sent you off like I promised.]

[Tried baking. Didn’t turn out bad. Hot Pie seems satisfied.]

[Lommy called. He wanted to come visit. We’re watching Exorcist II: The Heretic. It’s supposed to be REALLY BAD. Maybe we can stream it together. Like one of those conference calls.]

[Rita was harsh today. Tired. Might hit the gym before I hit a person.]

[Did you see the new Gucci commercial? Sick, wasn’t it? Think I should grow out my hair like Jared Leto?]

[None of the girls I met would want to kick my arse like you do.]

[Come back. I’m sorry. I’m stupid.]

[Arya.]

gendry bites his lips. are you sure you want to delete this? he reads it again. gendry presses no.

+ i.

“are you alright now?” myrcella asks, eyes wide and voice small. gendry hadn’t seen her in months. maybe a full year. her hair’s grown. “i’m really, really sorry, you know.”

“i know.” gendry smiles. he reaches out one hand to her head. brings her in and kisses her temple. myrcella hugs him back. They stay like that for two minutes. He wonders how the queen would react if she found out. gendry hopes she won’t ever.

“but i’ve lost my best friend, ‘cella. don’t think it’s something i’ll ever be alright with.”

“i understand.” she says, squeezing him back.

she doesn’t, but gendry accepts it anyway.

he wants to tell her that he’s beginning to forget arya’s number. the other day he was repeating it back to himself and he mixed up three of the digits. three. it’s not - exceptional. but it’s something. a progress. a slow one. but it’s happening. gendry doesn’t say anything though. it hadn’t felt like a victory - no matter how much gendry wanted it to be.

he sits through the dinner regardless, eyes always watching out for arya - but no. she’s not there. not anymore. the steak gendry was served tastes a little bland.