#anyways. now I’m here. and I know that I transfer in a few months. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incognito-girl · 4 months

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matching - L.WILLIAMSON

NOT EDITED and i HATE this but i spent too long on it before it got deleted to just not finish it! hope you enjoy

new year’s eve. the start and end of a year, all at once. every pressure of the year can be left behind leaving you to only think of the future. friends, family, teammates asking what your big goals and plans for the year ahead are. the question had always left you thinking and as you do year after year you shrug out the same answer of “work on my shooting/defence/speed”, whatever you just decided to say that day. everyone around you felt hopeful at the prospect of a new year, new beginning. although for you every year felt the same it never felt as though this was a moment for big change. although this year you had a change. a big change waiting for you. you would be a new signing for arsenal during the winter transfer season. although will all this ‘negativity’ you had towards the prospect of a new year your little secret new year resolution was to get into a relationship, a real relationship. as the years go by though your hope of this dwindling as every prospect ended to be a one night stand or just someone completely awful.

this year your resolution was to do well at your new club. you were following your dear friend, alessia, over to arsenal just a few months later. when you told her the news of your transfer she screamed down the phone at you with excitement, rambling on about different things you can do when you move to london in a few months. this led you here, sitting on the floor on your new home unpacking as you and the blonde catch up on the last few months of your lives. “only thing we’re missing now is ella.” you say fondly thinking of your friend who you had left just a few hours ago. “she needs to come down for a weekend soon, we will just have to see who she stays with” she says with hint of cockiness to her voice. indicating ella would stay with her. this led to the pair of you getting into a playful argument on where the brunette would stay. eventually coming to an agreement she would definitely stay in a hotel not wanting to be staying with the either of you.

eventually the pair of you had mostly unpacked your clothes and had ended up sitting on your new bed ready to spend the evening there, before the blonde sitting next to you received a phone call “katie mc cabe” it read as you slightly looked into her phone. a new found sense of dead came over you realising she would definitely be asking her to go out and you would be left home alone on new year’s eve. she answered quickly while standing up and leaving the room to have the conversation. you sat patiently waiting for the girl as you scrolled on instagram. the taller girl came bounding back into the room with excitement evident on her features “we’re going out.” she states quickly, knowing your detest for celebrating the holiday hand. “no alessia.” you state leaving back against your headboard facing the television again. “come on would you” she moans out to you while flopping on your bed, “you will have to meet the girls anyway.” she says poking your leg. “alessia.” you start “i don’t want to just tag along especially not on a night out when i haven’t even been introduced to them before this.” you say frowning to get some sympathy on your reservations. “nope, no pouty face will work on me. we’re going.” she states standing up to now look at your clothes to see what she could wear.

after about half an hour of moping about while getting ready the pair of you were set for the night ahead of you. “okay so most of everyone is already there so we should probably leave soon.” she states while applying lipgloss in your bathroom mirror. you watching her while sitting on your bed in your short white dress. “alright!” you hear the taller girl shout from the bathroom “i’m ready” she says appearing at the door both her hands on each side of the doorframe. “looks so beautiful lessi!” you say sarcastically all the while giving her a sincere look. with a roll of her eyes she flicks your for each whole mumbling about getting a taxi.

you both stood waiting in the kitchen drinking the last bit of water you would get for the night before you left. “are you excited?” she asks narrowing her eyes at you, wanting a sincere answer. “nervous.” you state shortly back at the girl, not quite meeting her eyes, she doesn’t reply to this in hopes you will expand on your answer if left to your own thoughts. to her confidence you did just as she hoped. “what if they don’t like me. i’m stuck with them all for the next three seasons unless i go on loan, but i couldnt imagine myself liking that to be honest lessi. what if lotte or katie dont like me. i know ive met lotte before but like it’s still so stressful, and katie might not like me because we’re so opposite based on the stories you have told me. everything could just go to shit tonight, and then what will i do for the season. it will be so shocking.” you ramble on not even taking a breath during it all. “they will love you.” she states as if it was a fact written in a history book, someone never sounding so sure of anything. “but what if they don’t?” you quietly ask worry beginning to furrow your eyebrows. “nope! none of that no furrowing your eyebrows tonight. no more overthinking.” she shouts out grabbing her phone and your hand dragging you out of the apartment to the taxi waiting on the side of the roads few floors down.

you could hear the beat of the music from outside the building when you got out of the taxi. the taller girl grabbing your hand once again to prevent you getting lost from her. she dragged you through the bodies of intoxicated people, a mix of smells taking over your senses leaving you a little nauseous. this was before you were suddenly standing in front your entire future team, as they hugged your friend. then after they all said hello they realised you were standing ever so slightly behind her. an excited look came over each of the girls faces as they realised who you were, the new signing. a few of the girls you were familiar with, due to shared friendship with ella and alessia. you had visited the pair during the summer to watch a the final of the world cup, the aftermath very different to the euros. although this led you to be acquainted with a fair few of the english nationals. the few you had spoke to bolted over to your side an excited look on their faces due to seeing you.

you were dragged away from your blonde friend to a entire new group of girls staring at you as if you were their favourite person in the world. you laughed under their gaze of what could only be described as love - weirdly enough. the group around you all introduced themselves, vivianne , beth, leah and lotte. beth doing most of the talking asking you millions of questions. lotte eventually excusing herself from the group followed by vivianne a minute later after telling beth she will get her a drink while she is up. this left just beth and leah to speak to. the blonde girl who you hadn’t been taking much notice of before this moved in closer to the pair of you to join into the conversation. this is when you finally noticed the both of you were in the same dress. “we’re matching!” you state to the girl next to you, feeling the fabric that covered her thigh to see if it really was the exact same dress. to your shock it was. this led the both of you into a long conversation about clothes. the taller girl had a lot to say about this topic leaving you sitting and listening to her as her eyes lit up excitedly, as if she was a child in a sweet shop. “alright love birds” beth starts while beginning to stand up gaining the both of your attention “i’m going to find alessia.” she finished while walking away. leaving the both of you with a crimson colour taking over your faces. you turn back to face leah seeing her with a little smirk on her face. “you are really pretty.” she states as if at the possibility she didn’t say it she would burst. a second round of the crimson colour takes over your cheeks again as you look at her with a smile.

the pair of you now talking about your family’s you start to tell a story about about your brother mimicking his actions when he scored a goal in his sunday league match, doing his celebration that he has now gotten you to start doing for him. leah absolutely scarlet from the way you were throwing your hands in the hair shouting out about a goal she grabbed your hands down and pulled them into her lap. “stop, you will embarrass me.” she said laughing while rolling her eyes leaning closer into you. “oh shush.” you roll your eyes back at her. she looks down at your entangled hands resting on her lap with a small smile. you begin to remove your hands from hers as her smile drops as she starts on an apology. “oh god i’m so sorry i didnt realise” “shush leah” you say grabbing her hand and intertwining your fingers together.

the both of you, so engrossed in your conversation and light touches didn’t realise you had been sitting in each others company for the past two hours. your thumb was gently caressing her much larger hand that was now sitting on your lap. you could feel every little mole, vein and cuticle on her hand. her face barely inches away from your face you could smell the lip balm she had on her soft lips, that looked very kissable in this lighting. you could smell the linger of her perfume that she has sprayed on herself hours before. her eyes scanning over every bit of your face as you spoke. her thumb gently stroking your thigh as you spoke gesturing wildly with your hands. your hand ended up on the back of her neck and on her shoulder as you pulled her closer so she could hear you better. talking into her ear as your breath fanned over her neck and your fingers played with the hairs on the back of her neck, you could see goosebumps rising all over her due to your actions. pulling away once you were done speaking your hands stayed put on the girl keeping her close. not even having an inch between you and the other girl. her hands now coming to rest on your waist. she ever so slightly lifted you up so you could sit on her lap. her fingers dancing over your waist as you pulled her impossibly closer to you. one of her hands began to fall loved resting on your ass. the both of you leaving in breath fanning over each others lips. before you were rudely interrupted by an excited alessia “guys like thirty seconds until midnight come on!” she said while grabbing your hand dragging you off leah and then grabbing her hand. the pair of you being dragged behind her. sharing amused looks at the girls excitement. she bring you both to the middle of the room with the rest of the team to celebrate the beginning of the new year. “so.” she stars a smug look on her face “any new years kiss?” she asks grabbing your waist once again “i was thinking this blonde girl but she might be a bit too cocky.” you answer placing your hands around her neck. the sound of everyone beginning to count down from ten now surround you.

ten

“i’m sure she would love to kiss you” she answers one hand falling lover onto your arse.

nine

“maybe. but i’m not sure if i want to kiss her” you say looking at her through your eyelashes

eight

“well she would be very hurt then.” she said pouting her potting lip

seven

“then i’ll consider it” you say while placing your finger onto her lip getting rid of her pout.

six

her toothy grin gleams down at you.

five

her hands grip your waist pulling you closer.

four

your hands go to her face caressing it.

three

“so gorgeous” she whispered to you.

two

“just shut up and kiss me.” you whisper back to her before pulling her in and connecting your lips.

one

you could faintly hear everyone shouting out a happy new year celebration and wishing the people around them a happy new year as the taller girls lips were on yours. you could taste the alcohol on her lips as she pulled you impossibly closer. her tongue licking your bottom lip asking for entrance to your mouth, which you eagerly grant. her nimble fingers digging into the flesh on your hips as you groan into her mouth, a sudden wave of embarrassment coming over you as you pull back. with your cheeks turning red you look up at her embarrassed, although you were met with a smirking blonde looking down at you. “didn’t know i had that much of an effect on you gorgeous. you are so hot.” she mumbled out to you grabbing your waist and pulling your body against hers, getting you lost in her presence once again.

“alright girls we get it. you like each other, keep it in a room though.” katie shouted out her irish accent thicker than ever, probably due to the alcohol consumption. leah pulled away from you throwing the girl a dirty look for ruining the moment she was just sharing with you. “fine, we will go and keep it in a room!” she shouted out jokingly to katie, while mimicking her accent. she grabbed your hand pulling you away from the group while you followed her idly, barely noticing too caught up with the girl. the electric feeling of her hand in yours was exactly what you needed to start your year secretly you hoped that this was every year’s resolution coming through, just a little bit delayed.

#woso soccer #alessia russo #woso one shot #lionesses #woso x reader #leah williamson #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #wsl #arsenal wfc #arsenal #lesbian

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wonustars · 4 months

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𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)

𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)

𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)

𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.

𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.

𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u

𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.

Read More Here.

You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.

It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.

Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice.

Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown.

Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest.

“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun.

“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation.

“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks.

Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away.

“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger.

Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes. His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere.

You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful?

“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy.

Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.

𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))

#jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan fic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #do you remember the time?#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {fics: do you remember the time}#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

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crackedpumpkin · 11 months

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|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛᴡᴏ ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The sun is annoying, and the world can survive without vegetables.

This is the conclusion you’ve drawn after waking up to warm, yellow rays that shine directly onto your closed eyes. You blink groggily, rubbing your tired eyes with a free hand while the other brushes your teeth.

“Honey, you’re gonna be late!”

You mumble out an incoherent reply to your mom from the bathroom, quickly tossing on a thin cardigan after rinsing your mouth to rid the intense menthol sting that lingers on your lips. Entering the kitchen once done, however, provides you with a delicious reminder of how amazing of a cook your mom is.

You grab a fork, devouring the scrambled eggs on toast. Sriracha stains the plate as a result of your messy eating habits, placing the now-empty plate in the basin with a satisfied hum. “Thanks, Mama!” You grab your school bag and rush to the door. You pause at the small alcove before the door, stepping down and slipping on your shoes.

“Bye, Mama! See you later!” You call out before shutting the door behind you. The walk to school is as usual, with loud car horns being beeped as people rush to work while you stroll past graffiti-filled walls on the side of buildings. The street outside your school is already crowded with various cliques chatting away, and you enthusiastically greet some of them with nods and half-smiles as you enter through the main gate.

You polish off your taco, throwing away your napkin after using it to wipe your lips of any grease stuck on them. You look up at the sound of your name being called, grinning once you see a short brunette walking down the hallway. “Morning,” You greet Nicole cheerfully, opening your locker and pulling out the textbooks and notebooks you need for the day.

“What’s with you today?”

You hum at her question, glancing at her with a quick shrug as she scrolls through Instagram. Nicole’s the first friend you made here in Brooklyn High School after transferring here four months ago. She had been the first to approach you, asking to borrow a pencil after she forgot to bring hers to class.

Like any other teenager being forced to move cities to somewhere completely new, you stick to her like glue after that, eventually infiltrating your way into her friend group.

“You know me, studious and independent’s the vibe I got goin’ on,” You grin at Nicole, draping an arm around her shoulder and giving her an affectionate squeeze. She looks up from her phone with a frown, using her finger to push up her glasses which had slid down slightly from their usual perch on her nose.

“Don’t be so uptight,” You chuckle, nudging her side. She sighs, rolling her eyes in amusement instead. You’re interrupted from your conversation on where to hang out this weekend at your name being yelled out from a distance away.

“Eyyyy, que pasa!” You laugh at Michael’s greeting as he comes up to you with an outstretched fist, bumping it gently after removing your arm from where it was resting around Nicole’s shoulders. “Have you studied for the quiz today?” He asks, slinging a casual arm around your shoulders while you walk down the hall with Nicole beside you.

You hum with a quick shrug. “Think so?”

“Man, you gotta get your head down from the clouds, bro.” He chuckles, trying to move sneakily to stand beside Nicole, who simply holds up her hand, stopping him from coming any closer with a glare. He retracts the arm he’s about to sling around her shoulders with a sheepish grin, holding it up in surrender.

“Anyway,” He brushes off her clear rejection, focusing back on you, “I’m planning a hangout with a few friends to celebrate the end of exam season. You in?” You immediately nod with a wide grin, already excited at the thought of goofing around with your friends.

“Of course, you’re invited too. Maybe we can have our own little hangout-”

“I’d rather stab my right arm.” Nicole cuts him off with an angelic smile, though her venom-filled words elicit an amused laugh from Michael. “Ah, how I love that icy nature of yours,” He sighs with a shake of his head.

“Who’s coming?’ You ask absentmindedly, adjusting the two notebooks in your arms.

“Jeremy, Ally, Geoff, Tiff, Miles…”

“Miles? As in, Miles Morales?” Nicole finally speaks, eyes wide in surprise.

“Who’s that?” You don’t recognise the name. The rest you’re familiar with, though. They’re all in Brooklyn High, just in different classes. You’d seen them in passing around the school, and they recognised you in turn as one of Michael’s friends.

“Right, you don’t know him. He transferred a while before you joined. He’s in Brooklyn Visions now. Here,” Nicole holds up her phone to your face, and you squint at the picture on her screen. Huh. He’s kinda cute, you suppose.

“Cool. Guess we’ll meet during the hangout then.” You sit down at your desk, Michael sitting at the desk beside you while she takes her seat in front of you.

“Wait, how do you know Miles?” Nicole rolls her eyes as she turns around in her chair, placing her elbow on your desk as she leans on her palm.

“He helped me out a couple of times.” She answers simply. Michael frowns slightly. “Were you two….?”

“Why? Are you going to be devastated if I say yes?” Nicole smirks. “Unfortunately, it’s actually because our moms knew each other.” She sighs, holding up her free hand to observe her nails.

Before Michael can respond, the bell rings to signal the start of classes. They pass by in a flash, and all too soon, you’re outside the door to the art classroom. You’re hesitant to enter, eyeing the doorknob as if it’d burn you as soon as you touch it.

“Well? Will you stay outside collecting dust, or will you enter?” You flinch at the sudden voice, looking up to see Miss Dawson looking at you with an expectant gaze. Her arms are crossed, waiting for you to go inside.

“Y-yeah, I was just about to, but then I realised I forgot my…. brushes?”

“You stored them in my desk drawer last week because they were too heavy to carry home with you.”

Damn it. You purse your lips, huffing at your forgetfulness. “Fine,” You mutter, grabbing the doorknob and turning it, walking to your usual corner of the room. You pull out your sketchbook and pencil case, leaning back in your chair and waiting for Miss Dawson to start her lesson.

“Today, I’ll be assigning you a task for your end-of-year exams. I know some of you are interested in building up your portfolio to apply for the Brooklyn Academy of Fine Arts or maybe even to other schools in different states.” You perk up slightly at the mention of art school, placing your hands on your sketchbook. Miss Dawson speaks slowly yet surely, looking at each student with pure conviction. When her gaze lands on you, you’re a hundred percent sure she can see every thought that crosses your mind, each doubt that lingers in your heart.

“Your topic is, Your Favourite Scenery.”

Murmurs spread through the class, everyone looking at each other with worry. You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it in thought as you furrow your brows. Sure, the topic might seem simple enough on the surface, but the fact that it’s so broad is exactly what unnerves you.

Having a chosen topic is good as a guideline, even more so when you know precisely what your favourite scenery is. With the addition of inspiration and motivation, it’d be a breeze to complete.

The problem is, you have none of the above.

You’re not sure what scenery you enjoy, much less have a favourite. Sure, sunsets are pretty, and skyscrapers are cool, but not much really struck you as deeply. You’re made aware of Miss Dawson gesturing for you to come over to her desk, hesitantly standing up and walking there while everyone else is discussing among themselves about the topic given.

You part your lips to greet her, only to be cut off when she holds out her hand expectantly. You huff, handing her your sketchbook. She flips through the pages, frowning slightly when she sees the random doodles and mindless sketches until she stops on a specific one.

She hums, taking in whatever’s on the page. You can’t remember what you’ve drawn, but you’re more than reluctant to admit how much of a slump you’ve been in lately. It’s not like you can come into class, declaring your lack of talent whilst waving your hands in the air.

You focus on Miss Dawson's makeshift jar of pencils on her desk, recalling someone else gifting it to her for Teacher’s Day. The blunt nibs are a testament to how much she uses them, a bedazzled one drawing your attention. You pick it up, observing the tiny sequins firmly glued to the wood with a fascinated gaze.

You flinch when Miss Dawson suddenly clears her throat, automatically moving your hands behind your back and focusing your attention back on her. “So, I assume you had an encounter with our city’s local hero?”

“How’d you know?” You ask, eyes wide in surprise.

She simply turns the sketchbook around to face you, the sketch you’d made last night of Spiderman clear as day. Your cheeks warm, the drawing having slipped your mind. “Looking through your sketchbook, it’s obvious that you’ve been in a slump, honey. But this sketch…This is really good, maybe even one of the better ones you’ve done.”

“Thank you?” You’re not sure if she just complimented or insulted you.

“Seeing him must have helped your inspiration somewhat, didn’t it?”

“I guess so. I dunno, it’s not like a switch I can turn on and off anytime I want.”

“Well, you’ll have to learn how to keep it on. And for this assignment in particular, I want you to focus not just on your favourite scenery. I want you to focus on what exactly makes it your favourite.” Miss Dawson hands the sketchbook back to you with a knowing smile, and you take it from her unsurely.

“Right…” You return to your desk with one dismissive wave from her hand, sitting back down with a defeated groan. You prop your chin onto your hand, staring at the sketch blankly.

An art slump is the worst. Besides, it’s just a drawing of Spiderman; although it is admittedly some of your best work, it’s not like you can just channel that again at the snap of your fingers.

You need inspiration. You need motivation. You need….a muse, which can only mean one thing.

You’re gonna attempt to find Spiderman.

Attempt #1: Have a friendly run-in!

“This is such a bad idea; why am I even trying to find a superhero? I’m literally just going to ask him to be my muse and he’s gonna say no, which is gonna be so embarrassing and I’ll never be able to show my face around here again and what if next time I’m being robbed he turns away because it’s me??”

“Okay, calm down. He’s not going to turn away because he rejected you, or he wouldn’t be a superhero. Also, you’re literally being paranoid because I’m not there with you.”

You frown, pulling your phone away from your ear to check if it really is Nicole you’re calling. “That’s not true.”

“I know when you’re lying.”

“Okay, maybe I’m being slightly paranoid, but for good reason! Why can’t you just come with me? You’re good at getting people to do what you want.”

Nicole’s soft chuckle somewhat relieves you, knowing she took it as a compliment. “I’d come over, but I have to help plan the outing with the group, remember? And I’m not the one with a ride to an Art Academy on the line - you are.”

“Wait, outing?”

“Yeah, remember this morning? You’ll meet Miles then; I think you’d get along. Anyway, you’ll do fine. Michael told me Spidey swings by the hotdog cart every Tuesday, so I guess it’s reliable information.” Nicole reassures you, though her last few emotions are filled with a tinge of doubt. She pulls the phone away to mumble something to someone, and you’re sure it’s an insult based on the irritated bite in her voice when she returns to the phone.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow then…” You say reluctantly, unwilling to hang up the phone.

“Yeah, bye.”

The monotonous dial tone greets your ears after Nicole’s curt goodbye. You shut off your phone, flipping your sketchbook to an empty page with a sigh. You rifle through your pencil case, picking up the sequined pencil you’d accidentally taken from Miss Dawson and tapping it against the blank paper.

Draw your favourite scenery.

You look around, taking in the vibrant green trees and serene lake, the joyful laughter of children and parents filling the air. It’s peaceful. Dogs wander around, some leashed and some set loose. One approaches you, but you wave it away, flinching when it gets too close for comfort. It’s no longer peaceful.

“You can go away now…” You mumble, poking its side to hopefully urge it to move away from you. Your legs automatically move up to the bench, drawing your knees close to your chest. “Shoo, bad dog! Where’s your owner?” You glance up to check if their owner is nearby, only for your bedazzled pencil to be snatched out of your hands.

“Hey!” You exclaim angrily, reaching out to grab it from the dog’s mouth. You hesitate when you see the dog drool dripping onto the end of the pencil, eyeing it with a shudder. You take a moment to steel yourself, grabbing the slimy end with as much force as possible, trying to yank it free from its mouth.

“Let go of my stuff! That’s not yours! I have to return it to Miss Dawson, you stupid dog!” Your grip slips, and you land on the ground with a yelp, wincing when your knee gets scraped by the coarse dirt through your ripped jeans.

“Give it back!” You demand, lurching yourself forward and grabbing the pencil again. However, the dog growls playfully, thinking of it as nothing more than a game for entertainment. “This is why,” You grunt between shallow breaths, “I prefer cats!”

Your sketchbook had fallen beside you, the beautiful cover now stained with dirt. You narrow your eyes into a glare, scowling at the dog. “Let go!”

It finally does, maybe because it sensed that you wouldn’t be playing with it. You fall back once more, your back hitting the ground harshly. The breath is instantly knocked out of your chest, and you inhale deeply, trying to force more air back into your lungs with a choked gasp.

You sit back up, holding the pencil up victoriously until you remember that there’s dog drool all over your hand. You groan in disgust, searching for a tissue to wipe it off. Wait. Your sketchbook is missing.

You look around frantically, only to see the exact same dog from earlier now burying a half-open sketchbook into the dirt. Your sketchbook. A strangled yell rips itself from your throat, practically throwing yourself at it with a glare that could rival even Karen herself. You push the dog away, scrabbling at the dirt to uncover your almost completely buried sketchbook.

“Bye, Spiderman!” Your head instantly turns at the sentence, spotting the familiar black silhouette nodding his thanks to the hotdog cart owner, his hotdog securely held in his hand. He flicks his free hand and shoots a web onto the side of a building, beginning to leave.

“Wait! I have a ques-”

He swings off into the distance, already blocks away in the span of a few seconds without hearing your cry. Your arm falls to your side, collapsing back onto the ground to catch your breath while your sketchbook lies buried in the dirt.

Damn it.

Attempt #2: Get Mugged!

“God, I hope this works,” You mumble. The streets around you are dimly lit, and you’re armed with nothing more than your bulky pencil case and a whistle, both stored in the deep pockets of your hoodie. The handbag containing your wallet and phone bumps against your waist, the strap loosely slung across your shoulder.

You’re the perfect walking target to be mugged.

Granted, this is probably one of the worst ideas you’ve had in the history of bad ideas. The chilly Brooklyn night breeze tickles your ears with an icy breath, and your body gives an involuntary shiver. You scan the empty streets hopefully. When was Spiderman – or better yet, a robber, going to show up?

Whether it was desperation or pure adrenaline driving you forward at this point, you couldn’t tell.

But you’re here, and you’re determined to see things through.

Minutes pass of you wandering the dark streets like a fool, and you’re just about to head back home when you sense that something’s off. Your steps slow, and you hear someone else’s shoes scuffle a short distance behind you.

You start to speed up, fingers gripping the heavy pencil case in your pocket. You’d been hit by it before by accident and did not get away unscathed by any means. Your heartbeat quicks its pace in your chest, sensing them get closer with each step.

There he is.

You finally spot Spiderman chilling on the roof of a nearby apartment building, breaking into a run. The mugger behind you grunts in surprise, and you hear him start to run as well. Your breaths are short and ragged, and you finally reach just below the building.

“Stop right there, missy!” Looking up from where you’ve bent over to catch your breath, you see the sharp knife blade held up at you. The robber is slouching, just as out of breath as you are. However, he straightens his back and flashes you a yellow-toothed smirk from under his cap, and you shudder at the bits of dirt clearly seen in his beard.

You hold your arms up in surrender, risking a quick glance up, only for Spiderman to jump down and land smoothly right in front of you. “Hey man, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play around with sharp objects?” He tuts, shaking his head as he uses his web shooter to tug the knife away from the robber.

The knife lands in his hands with ease, the robber immediately turning to flee. “I don’t like doing this bit, but you leave me no choice!” Spiderman does a quick frontflip and lands before the robber, grabbing his shoulder and tilting his head. “You should’ve known better,” You hear him scold, and spot a light blue electric current flowing from his fingers to the robber, knocking him unconscious.

Spiderman lets go, taking a surprised step back as the robber falls to the floor, unconscious. He winces, dusting off his hands and walking toward you. “You shouldn’t come out here during the night,” He chides playfully, grabbing the knife that had fallen to the floor when he caught the mugger. “You’d be in a lot of trouble if I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah, thank you. Actually, I wanted to ask-”

“Whoop.” He cuts you off, glancing at his watch, “I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls! You’re gonna want to take a right down here, another left, and then one more right and you’ll be at the main street. Stay safe!” He gestures down to a more brightly lit street, patting your back before shooting his web shooter at a nearby building.

“Wait- Ugh,” You groan in defeat, watching him swing off again without hearing your question. Your arm is outstretched, fingers barely brushing against his arm before he leaves.

DAMN IT.

Attempt #3: If he doesn’t stop and listen to the goddamn question, you’re going to lose it.

“Calm down, pinto.”

“I spilt pinto beans on myself, one time, people. One. Time.” You frown, crossing your arms. Nicole smirks, shrugging nonchalantly in response.

“Yeah, yeah. Michael told me that he saw your Spidey boy swing around the taco truck down the street a couple times every Thursday, so we should keep a lookout. Don’t want your sketchbook taken away from you again, do we?”

“How does Michael even know all this?” You mumble.

“Look, we don’t ask him questions, and he doesn’t ask us any. It’s a two-way street, pinto. Use those brains of yours.” You shove Nicole lightly with a roll of your eyes. Falling back, she leans against a wall, immediately pulling out her phone and scrolling through it.

God, she has a serious internet addiction. You choose to scan the crowd instead, your gaze sweeping over the kids from the Brooklyn Visions Academy filling the street, having just gotten out of their clubs. You look somewhat out of place with your own uniform, shuffling your feet slightly when they glance over with confused gazes.

You raise your brows in response to a few of them, and they leave with a haughty scoff. You roll your eyes. Stuck up snobs, the lot of them. Hopefully, the information Michael provided is accurate, though you’re sure you’ll never know where he gets it from.

“Hey, is the bowling alley chill with you for the hangout? Miles sucks at bowling, so we can team up to obliterate the boys.”

“Sure,” You reply absentmindedly, only to pause and turn to face her. “Is he not free to meet up before, though? I’d like to get to know him first, so it won’t be as awkward.”

“Nah,” Nicole frowns at her screen, “He’s busy on all the days I suggested. Something about homework and stuff. Maybe he’s turned into one of the snobs.” She puts her phone away with a snort. “Also, there’s your Spidey-guy.”

“What?” True enough, he’s at the taco truck right now, ordering a taco and waiting patiently. Spiderman has to have lunch breaks too, you suppose. You watch him tap his fingers against the metal table, bobbing his head along to a beat playing in his mind.

You grit your teeth, grab your bag and keep your now clean sketchbook, having wiped off all the dirt with a cloth and the best surface cleaner you own back home. Your eyes shine with a determined glint, practically marching through the crowd to him.

“Hey!” You stumble back, looking down at the bright yellow mustard on your pristine white shirt. “Are you kidding me?” You growl in frustration, looking up to see a girl dressed in the Brooklyn Visions uniform holding up her ruined basket of fries, the small toppled tub now on its side and most of the sauce on you.

“Watch where you’re going!” She huffs, looking at you with pure disdain.

“Watch where I’m going? Watch where you’re going!”

Oh God, please let him still be there-

Spiderman is holding his taco now, trying to slip away through the crowd. Your eyes narrow into a glare, pushing past the girl with a muttered apology, running as fast as possible to catch up to the superhero.

You spot him jogging into an alleyway, following suit. You stop, however, when you see that it’s empty. “What?” You mumble, looking around frantically for him. You hear a loud coo, looking up to see the very hero you’re looking for crawling along the wall of the Academy dorms.

“Wha-?” Now you’re baffled. You watch him reach a specific window, using an arm to open it and enter before sliding it shut behind him. Three floors up and the last one down the hall. Got it. You run to the entrance, only to be stopped by a security guard.

“Woah, woah, woah. Only students of Brooklyn Visions Academy are allowed inside.” He chuckles, holding a hand in front of you to stop you from entering.

“No, you don’t understand! I need to talk to someone inside.” You try to plead, but he merely raises his brows.

“Okay, what’s their name?”

“W-well. You see, here’s the thing.” You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Mmhm. Come back when you have their name, and I’ll call them down for you, okay?” He dismisses you, using his hands to turn your shoulders around. He pats your back slightly, sending you on your way.

You frown, brows furrowing in thought for a way to get in. Maybe Nicole would have an idea. She’s eerily good at stuff like this. Your feet pound against the pavement in a steady rhythm as you run back to where you had left her waiting.

“Nic!” You call out, panting heavily once you reach the girl who’s still in the same position as when you left. “I need help; I gotta sneak into the dorms of the snob school.” You say through your gulps for air, your lungs screaming for more oxygen.

“You need to sneak in?” She asks, looking up from her phone with raised brows.

“Yeah. I can’t explain right now, but I really need your help.” You confirm breathlessly.

She mulls over your plea for a moment before shrugging, moving away from the wall and pocketing her phone. She stretches her arm above her head momentarily. “Stay here.” She orders before stepping out of the alleyway and out of your sight.

You wait, albeit impatiently, tapping your foot as urgency consumes you. Nicole soon returns with the Academy’s blazer in her hands, tossing it at you with a grin. “Got it for free; you can keep it. I gotta go for a study session. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah, thanks, Nic.” She never fails to impress you every time. You thank her quickly before returning to the dorm entrance, wearing the blazer on the way. You halt once you reach it, keeping your head down and fastening the buttons securely, hiding the bright yellow stain on your shirt.

God, it’s probably going to get onto the blazer too, you wince. Spotting a group of girls walking into the entrance, you jog over and stick close to them, walking past the security guard from earlier.

Once you’re inside, your tense shoulders sag with relief, a massive weight being lifted off your chest. The atrium is pretty cool, but you don’t have time to admire any architecture right now. You glance at the two winding staircases, signs directing the students to the boys' or girls' side.

You recall the window being on the right side of the building, walking up the respective staircase. Luckily, not many students are around. Most of them have gone out.

Third floor, last room down the hall.

You take the lift up, exchanging an awkward smile with another girl who’s clearly sneaking in as well. She gets off at the second floor, and you spam the button to close the lift doors. As soon as they close, you practically collapse against the wall with a long, drawn-out sigh of relief.

The lift doors open to the third floor. You peek your head out, looking around. Good, there’s no one.

Stepping out of the lift, you pause. Do you go right, left, or straight? From what you recall of the exterior structure, you’re pretty sure it’s the hall on your left. Steeling your resolve, you walk down the carpeted floor, your footsteps muffled.

There it is, the room at the end of the hallway. You raise your hand, knocking on the hard wood once, twice, three times.

Silence is all that greets you.

“Is anyone there?” You call out softly. When no one responds, you grip the doorknob just to check. To your surprise, however, the door swings open with a single push, revealing the room inside.

It wasn’t locked.

“Pardon my intrusion….”

You step over a pile of clothes on the floor, your nose scrunching at the smell. Deodorant and musk fill the air. A picture frame sits on a desk to your left, with a photo of a short boy.

That can’t be him; his stature is too different.

Another picture sits on a small nightstand, and you pick it up to see a familiar face. The boy in the picture with his family is tall, with chocolate brown eyes and raven-black hair. You frown, tilting your head. Where had you seen him before…?

A soft thud draws your attention. Something had fallen to the floor from where it was squashed between the bedframe of the bunk bed and another piece of furniture. You bend down, picking it up.

Spiderman’s mask hangs loosely in your grasp.

You look multiple times from the mask and the poorly-hidden suit to the picture, finally connecting the dots. You pull out your phone, hurriedly texting the one person who could confirm your surefire theory.

yo, Nic. send me the picture of the guy - Miles, i think? - Read, 2pm

Sure ig. dont go stalking him tho - Nicole, 2pm.

The strong vibration of your phone alerts you to a new text. You look down, thankful for Nicole’s fast reply. Opening the text, an image of the ever-so-elusive Miles Morales fills your screen.

Oh my god.

Your eyes widen, your suspicions confirmed.

It can't be.

But it's the only explanation that makes sense.

Miles Morales is Spiderman. Spiderman is Miles Morales.

You hide the mask back where it's dropped out of its hiding place, swallowing thickly when you hear the lift ding, making your swift exit.

Rushing down the hall, the last thing you expect is to bump against the very boy you’ve been looking for. You don’t dare risk a glance, recognising him just by his shoes alone. Ignoring his apology, you run off, making your exit.

Once you exit the dorm entrance, most of the tension leaves your body. Making your way back home, your mind reels from the discovery.

Miles Morales is Spiderman.

While you slip away from his notice, Miles spots something in his peripheral vision. His suit had fallen slightly out of his hiding place. Thinking nothing of it, he goes to stuff it back in when he sees a small spot of yellow on the side of his mask.

Yellow?

He brings the mask up to his nose and takes a sniff. His brows furrow at the familiar scent.

...Mustard?

He wipes it off with a shrug.

#spiderman: into the spiderverse #Into The Spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader

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riboism · 2 years

Text

ateez headcannon | innocent things you do that drive them crazy

a/n: someone sent me this request a while back, and i’m so sorry but I think I deleted it by mistake :( I hope whoever that person was sees this, and I’m sorry it took so long to make! They never specified if they wanted this to be fluff or smut, so I kinda did both lol.

genre: fluff, suggestive (nothing crazy)

Seonghwa: When you put on makeup. Especially lipstick.

You always took forever getting ready, and that would really piss off your very punctual boyfriend. One evening, he barged into your room, annoyed to see that you were still getting ready when you two were already ten minutes late for the dinner reservation. “Do you know how hard it was to get a reservation here?” he nagged, “The restaurant is half an hour away, and that’s not including the five o’clock traffic that’s gonna…” He trailed off as he watched you apply your lipstick. The sight of you opening your mouth wide and rubbing the cherry red nub over your lips made his knees weak. From then on, he never complained about your tardiness again. Instead, he’ll lay on your bed after getting ready, resting his head onto his palm as he watches you play with your makeup. He admired how you knew just what to do; how much blush to put on, what colors to blend over your eyes, how steady your hand was as you drew on perfect black lines over your lids, and of course, how sultry you looked when you pouted your lips and rubbed the bright red color on. He especially loves it when you go over the red with a lip gloss. The way your juicy red lips moved when you talked was mesmerizing, and he’d feel only a little bad when you’d ask him if he was still listening to you. He thought your lips looked even more kissable, but you never allowed him to kiss you, afraid that he’ll ruin your makeup. But your pleas went in one ear and out the other, and Seonghwa leans in anyway for a messy and passionate kiss. You’d be so annoyed afterwards, digging into your bag for your compact mirror so that you could fix this mess. Some of the color would transfer onto his lips, but Seonghwa never bothered to wipe it off. Instead, he’ll walk around happily, proud to show off the glossy red lips that he now shared with you.

Hongjoong: When you wear something that he bought for you.

It’s safe to say that about 60% of your closet was stuff that Hongjoong bought for you. You’d tell him to go to the store to pick up a gallon of milk, and he’ll come back with a brand new outfit for you instead. One night, you arrived to the resturant where your boyfriend waited for you at the corner table. He was stunned to see you in the silky green dress he had bought for you just months ago. Of course, he was the one who picked it out, but he never imagined just how good you’d look in it. Too bad, he thought to himself, too bad I’ll have to rip it off of you when we get home.

Yunho: When you come back from a run.

Yunho was fast asleep while you went out on your early morning run. You came back half an hour later, the sound of you rummaging through the drawers for a towel awaking him from his slumber. He loved how you looked after your work out; your hair all messy with a few flyaways sticking out, your cheeks flushed from all the circulation. He admired how your sports bra always matched your leggings, and the way the pants hugged your thighs so perfectly. Yunho pretend to be asleep, opening his eyes just enough to watch you strip from your sweaty workout clothes. You’d never guess how much your sweaty, tired, and out of breath state turned him on. How badly he wanted to touch you, to give you another reason to be out of breath. But he knew you’d never let him anywhere near you when you were like this, and so he would have to reach down and take care of his hard on by himself before you come back out from the shower.

Yeosang: When you get your nails done.

The first thing you did when you got home from the salon was show your boyfriend Yeosang your new set. He stopped playing his game and took your hands into his. He examined your acrylics, admiring the pretty designs and colors on each nail. You usually did earthy or nude colors, but today you decided to do a bubblegum pink shade. Something about the color pink on your nails gave Yeosang a rush. He lost himself in a daydream, imagining how pretty your hands would look right now, gripped around his hard cock. “What do you think?” you asked, a little concerned with how quiet he was. You worried that maybe he didn’t like it. “Is it the almond shape? Or the color? I thought I’d try something different today. Is it bad?” He snapped out of his daydream and gave you a reassuring smile. “No, no. It’s pretty. I like it.” He brought your hands up to his lips, giving them a quick peck before swiveling back on his chair and returning to his game.

San: When you play with the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

You walked up behind San as he cut up some garlic. “What are you making?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Well I wanted to make mac n cheese, but the store didn’t have any colby jack, can you believe that? So I...” your fingers twiddled with his drawstrings, untying and retying it as he went on tell you about the grocery store fiasco. It was a habit of yours to play with his drawstrings, sort of like a fidget thing. You didn’t really think much of it. Sometimes you didn’t even realize that you were doing it. Your boyfriend, however, was very aware of this habit of yours, and it never failed to turn him into putty. The feel of your fingers so dangerously close to his waistband made him a little dizzy. The confident boy you were met with when you first walked into the kitchen was now a stuttering mess “and um...and I thought m-maybe I can make something with uh...with pesto...” You let go of his drawstrings and gave him a quick peck on the cheek “Sounds great. Let me know if you need any help.” Needless to say, he did need your help, but not with dinner.

Mingi: When you play with his hair.

Mingi’s loved lazy Sunday’s with you on the couch. You were reading a book when he came into the room, and he invited himself to come sit next to you. He laid his head on your lap, signaling you to play with his hair. Without looking away from your book, you brought your free hand down and ran your fingers through his silky hair. Your fingers grazed at the side of his head, rubbing them gently over his ear lobe. That was his sweet spot and it turned him into a drooling mess. He was completely paralyzed from your addicting touch. He wished you two could stay like this forever. Although this was just a sweet and mindless activity, Mingi couldn’t help but have perverted thoughts. As you read on, Mingi thought about how good it would feel if you played with his hair like this while he goes down on you. He’d probably fall asleep right between your legs.

Wooyoung: When you're sick.

Wooyoung loved being babied. But he loves babying you even more. You're pretty independent, which was something he both adored and hated. He wanted to be able to take care of you sometimes, but you never let him. He tried to hide his excitement when you told him that you were coming down with something. Now was his chance.

Wooyoung thought you were so cute when you were weak and needy. Despite you telling him that it wasn’t a serious illness, that you had the cold under control, he still insisted on tucking you into bed, blowing on a spoonful of hot soup before feeding it into your mouth, and making you endless cups of tea. And when your sinuses kept you up at night, he didn’t hesitate to slip a hand into your panties, giving you a slow and gentle orgasm to help put you to sleep.

Jongho: When you ask him to kill a bug for you/ when you’re scared.

You hated when the weather got warmer and sticker because that meant you had to deal with seeing unwanted visitors in your home. One night, when you were getting ready to shower, you noticed a very creepy looking centipede hanging around the shower drain. A shiver went down your spine, and you immediately ran to Jongho. He looked up from his phone, instantly knowing what was wrong from the scared expression on your face. “Where is it?”

“Shower drain” you replied, your voice a little shaky. He sighed as he walked over to the bathroom to take care of the situation. Jongho would act annoyed with how frequently you came to him for help in these situations, but secretly he liked it. He liked that he was the first person you’d run to for help. He also liked how you’d hide behind him, watching nervously as he disposed of the pest. He thought it was cute how you squirmed around when he’d chase you with the napkin he used to collect the dead bug. As sadistic as it sounds, it kind of turned him on.

When it was his turn to pick a movie for movie night, he always picked horror. He loved seeing you get all tense, clinging onto his arm right before a jumpscare. He was your security blanket, and he was happy to be the one to protect you, to be the one you felt most safe with.

taglist: @hyuckilstan @ateezsatinysworld

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

Note

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a little something about Jamie being your guest to a wedding?? Just something sweet and fluffy because I feel like he’d be a spectacular wedding date. Love you!!

Here you go! Haven’t been able to write as much this week, I had finals and in between tests and papers, I’ve been pretty much living at the doctor’s. My brain is feeling a little fried, so I hope this is a coherent fic because I’ve tried to proofread a bunch and it all just looks like squiggles to me, so… anon, if you read this, send me your honest feedback in my inbox. Love ya!🍊💚

i’m glad you exist

“What’s this?” Jamie asks from his position on your kitchen island.

You glance up from the stove. “What’s what?”

He holds up an envelope rimmed in gold.

“Oh, that’s an invite to my old roommate’s wedding. Remember I told you about her? Calls everyone ‘queen?’”

Jamie’s face shows recognition. “Right, yeah, she the one dating that motivational speaker?”

You laugh. “Yeah, they got together a month after I met her. He lived one floor down. Anyway, their wedding’s in a few months so I left the invitation out so I’d remember to RSVP.”

Jamie’s engrossed in the details on the invitation. “Says you can bring a plus one.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “probably won’t though. It’s back home, so, it’s not just a weekend-type deal. My mom and dad want me to come stay for like a week and a half.” You turn back to the stove and narrowly avoid burning the food. “You like your dinner a little crispy, right?”

“Babe,” Jamie says slowly, “you stayin’ with your parents?”

“Nah,” you say, transferring the food onto plates, “too crowded. And loud. My mom always has all the grandkids over all the time.” Your older sister has two kids, and your older brother has three. “She offered, but I told her I’d just get an AirBnB or something.”

“Y’know,” he says, taking the plates and moving to the table, “it’s on the off season. Don’t have any branding deals that week either.”

“Jamie,” you begin, a smile beginning to spread across your face, “are you offering to go to this wedding with me? And meet my parents?”

Jamie shrugs nonchalantly.

“You are!” you say gleefully, “Oh my god, my mom is going to lose her mind. You know she absolutely loves you, right? She talks about their trip out here all the time. And this time you can meet my whole family, like my sister and her husband, they’re definitely my favorite because my niece and I have the same middle name. Plus my brother is always busy with work and his wife is cool, I guess, but we don’t have a lot in common? Except one time we watched High School Musical together, and she knew all the dances and all the words! It was crazy. And we’ll definitely have to go to the beach, do you know how to surf-?”

You ramble on happily as Jamie just grins at you, digging into his food.

—

It’s wedding week, and your dad picks you up from the airport. You and Jamie are on your way to your parents’ house before checking into your own house and you’re confident that most of your family is going to be there. Your parents are the only ones who have met Jamie in person, and right now your dad and Jamie are in the front of the car chatting on about who knows what. You just know you’re tired, and you’re grateful that your dad picked you up a coffee. You’re probably going to steal Jamie’s too, because he does not need more energy and yours is gone way too quick. It’s nice to be home. The sun is shining, and the streets are familiar. You’re looking forward to seeing your old friends, and showing off your gorgeous footballer boyfriend.

They’d all heard about him of course, and were more than thrilled that you had finally found someone who actually liked being around you. That sounds terrible. You’re not annoying. You just have a habit of being with men who see you as a chore, not for the wonderful person you are. The person Jamie sees you to be.

You’re pulling into the driveway, and just as you suspected, the entire family is there. You notice your brother’s Range Rover and your sister’s Jeep. You smile to yourself. How very like them.

You hop out of the car, grab Jamie’s hand, and the door is open before you even make it all the way up to it. Your mom’s arms are open for a hug which you reach for except she turns away at the last moment and hugs Jamie first?

“Mom!” you say, laughing, “I’m your literal daughter and I haven’t seen you in forever!”

She smiles and pinches Jamie’s cheek. “I’ve spent more time with you than with him. You’ll survive.”

She wraps you in a warm hug then says, “Come meet the family, Jamie! And you’re staying for dinner. You can get to your house after you’ve taken a break.”

You shake your head and Jamie just grins. Poor boy has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

—

Jamie was thoroughly interrogated by your family, including your nieces and nephews (“Why do you call it football instead of soccer? Did you bring us candy?”). You’re both so exhausted that as soon as you walk through the door of your AirBnB, you collapse onto the bed, fully clothed.

—

It’s the day of the wedding, and you’re stressed. You’d been fine until the exact moment that you and Jamie began walking up to the venue. Everything is fine, you’re walking hand-in-hand, but then you just stop.

“Jamie,” you say, tugging on his hand, “Jamie I can’t do this.”

He turns to you in surprise. “What d’you mean you can’t do this?”

“I mean, it’s a lot of people I haven’t seen in forever and I don’t know, I’m just freaking out.”

Jamie laughs of all things. “Babe, it’s all right. Look, you’re with me, yeah? And I’m fucking amazin’. And you’re fucking amazin’. So whatever you’re worried about, ain’t a problem.”

Sometimes you forget how cocky Jamie can be. And how much it can boost your confidence.

You blow out a breath. “Thanks babe. You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

—

It was more than fine. Like, way more than fine. Your friend looked lovely, and she was overjoyed to see you, and Jamie was the absolute best. He befriended your entire table and insisted you dance with him for every song. He was weirdly good at it, too.

“It’s all in the hips, babe,” he said.

It definitely was.

Your favorite part, though, is the last dance.

It’s a slow song, and the only people left were couples. The bride and groom had left, sneaked out a back door because she hated send-offs, so everything was winding down.

Jamie has your hands in his, and brings them to loop around his neck.

“You alright?” he whispers. You nod. “Good,” he says, voice still low. “Wanted to make sure you had a good time. I fucking love weddings. The dancing, the food… you.” He grins and you smile back. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Not sure I mentioned it earlier.”

You’re blushing now, swaying to the music as his hands circle your waist.

You say, “Thanks for coming with me, Jaim. I don’t think I would’ve had as much fun without you.”

Your hands are on the sides of his face now, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.

You lean up to kiss him and right before you do he whispers, “Gonna be us someday, yeah?”

You forget how to breathe for a moment, opting to nod instead.

Jamie smiles, and leans down to finish what you started.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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hollyhomburg · 5 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Sneek Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort.

W/c: 7.0k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter will be a little shorter than usual after such a long weight but i literally could not finish the second half of it in time. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. idk when that will change, this might just be the new reality for me 😭 when i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

~-~

Chapter 64 Sneak Peak: Pawn and King

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old streetlamp lights punctuate the darkness. But through it there are husks of metal rising like soldiers. The sky orange behind them from the distant lights of the city,

Jin’s car is there. Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as his headlights roll over it. And then further in the darkness maybe 50 feet away, Jimin's car. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine, casting everything, the river, and this building into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in it. Tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out. He stares at it.

"Hobi," he looks up at your face, and you flick the safety off. "Sink or swim?"

His hand finds yours. "Swim."

You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him. squeezing it once then letting it go. You don’t waste another second arguing. "Stay behind me."

You head off following the disturbed dust, Hobi trailing behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe. He's spent the last few months fixating on it- and you of course too. Too fixated to notice the small things that he sees plainly right now. There are facts here that Hobi has not noticed.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be the only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin? But the way you walk; completely silent as you transfer your weight from one foot to the other, is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly.

It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms, like a dancer's ballet fingers. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger and index finger along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Jimin. Hobi had almost forgotten about it. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? there are some things that you never forget, and trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are- but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you, you do not have a tell.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you. You've known he shouldn't since you picked up Jin's call.

Jimin is easy to find if only because he’s sitting in one of those puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet whimper when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway and Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!” you forget the gun and run to him, tucking it back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding water-dark fabric. Not water- blood.

Hobi stays there, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor, bubbling. Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The little bit of blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, a puddle of it. Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek.

“Hey pup” he murmurs, he laughs a little, half delirious with pain. He flinches like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs, "did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed, pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her that I’m sorry. Could you-" jimin's coughs overtake him, and fresh blood drips down the tips of his fingers, finding home in the soil below.

"Could you tell her for me?”

Coming Saturday December 9th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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bluewasthecolor · 1 year

Text

This Is What It Feels Like

Word Count: 5330

Warnings: Smidges of angst.

A/N: The anons who requested that I work on this get a special shoutout because Gracie is superior. Also this song was written about a friendship but I am writing about a relationship because art is up for interpretation (and I like writing about relationships)! I'm really proud of how this turned out, so I hope you like it! Let me know what else you'd like to see from me. I've been pretty much exclusively working on this one for the past few days, but I'm planning to work on some requests/ficlets now so expect to see more uploads from me in the next few days.

The city's gettin' loud

If I choke, it's only 'cause I'm scared to be alone

“You coming out with us tonight?” You look up from your phone to see Leah standing over you.

“Pardon?”

“We’re going out to have some team bonding time–just going to dinner, having a couple drinks, nothing major. You should come.” “Oh, um, I think I have plans tonight, but thanks for the invite.” You smile awkwardly and walk out of the changing room, leaving Leah standing alone.

On the drive home, as you cook yourself dinner in your flat, and as you eat alone, you can’t stop thinking about your interaction with Leah. You’re not sure why you said no to her invitation. You really don’t have anything to do–how could you? You’ve only been in London for a month and all of your time has been spent with the team so they’re your only real opportunity for social interaction. You pray that Leah doesn’t think about this, doesn’t realize you were lying. It’s not that you don’t want to get to know them, you truly do, it’s just that all of this feels a bit much right now. You’ve always been pretty shy and that makes it hard to get close to anyone. It took you almost a year after being drafted to OL Reign before you finally settled in, so it’s not much of a surprise that you’re still having difficulty making connections. This was supposed to be different though. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Moving to London was supposed to help you, was supposed to be an escape from all the noise. Instead, here you are panicking just as you have so many times before. You feel as though you’re back in Seattle, back in that godforsaken apartment, trying not to drown. It’s not all that different you suppose, then and now. You were alone then and you’re alone now. Except now you’re in London halfway across the world from everyone you love. You feel naive that you thought this would help you, that you thought transferring to Arsenal was the right choice. Instead of being able to call somebody to come over when it all gets to be too much, you’re left struggling through on your own. This must have been a mistake.

After dinner you’re sitting in your living room when your musings are interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. Confused about who could be at your place–about who even knows where you live–you look through the peephole to see Leah standing on the other side. Your breath catches in your throat. What is she doing here? You press your back into the door, reminding yourself to breathe. She’s one of your teammates, not some random stranger. It’s going to be okay. With that, you swing open the door. Leah looks up as you do so, smiling when she sees you.

“Hey Y/N. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” “No, no not at all. I thought you were going out with the girls tonight?” “Well, I was, but then I talked to you.” A smirk is playing at her lips and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. “You said you had ‘plans’ but then I realized the likelihood of you knowing anyone in London besides the team is very very slim. So, I thought I’d come over.” She holds up her hand and the bottle occupying it. “I brought wine. Can I come in?”

Taken aback by her assertiveness, you step aside allowing her to enter. You’re still confused about what’s going on, but you follow her into your kitchen anyway, determined not to make things awkward. She grabs two wine glasses off the shelf, pouring each glass half full and handing one to you. You take it, grateful to have something to do with your hands.

“Would you like to sit?” You tilt your head towards the couch, and Leah nods. You move to sit next to one another and she looks at you. Like, really looks at you. The prolonged eye contact makes you shift uncomfortably, looking away after a few seconds.

“So. Y/N.” Leah’s voice is soft, comforting. “Truth be told I didn’t just come here to drink wine.”

You look back up, a question in your eyes.

“I wanted to check in on you. You never come out with us, barely interact with the team besides to talk about football. Did we do something? Are you just not interested in getting to know us?”

“Ah, so this isn’t just a friendly visit. You’ve been sent here on a spy mission. Get me to confess all my secrets, report back, right?” You’re half teasing, but apparently you’ve struck a nerve.

“No!” Leah is quick to deny, but even quicker to backtrack. “Okay so maybe Caitlin mentioned that I should come over and see if I could get you to crack, but it’s just because we want to know you. And I was already thinking of asking you to do something one on one.” The last part of her confession takes you off guard, but you compose yourself quickly.

“Alright. You get three questions. Go.” You’re not used to people being this honest with you, so you decide to give her something in return.

“Why don’t you ever spend time with us outside of training?” Her first question is as expected, and you begin to give your routine answer.

“I’m just really shy. I never really get to know people right away.” Her eyes narrow at your response, and you can tell she doesn’t fully buy your answer.

“Be more specific.” “This is gonna count as one of your questions, you know.”

“Be. More. Specific.”

“It’s been like this since I was little, I think. My mom tells me my teachers would always send home notes saying that I was smart but needed to talk more in class. As I grew up it just kind of stayed the same way. I think I’m scared that if I let people in, if I get to know them, I’ll just end up getting hurt. If I never make an effort I never have to be let down or worry that someone doesn’t want to be around me.” You stare at your hands as you say this, embarrassed to look up at her. Leah is silent for a moment and you think you’ve scared her off, shared too much, but then her hands are on top of yours.

“You don’t have to be scared with us. I know that’s a hard thing to believe, but you’ll never know unless you just trust us, unless you try. Give us a chance. Or, y’know, at least give me a chance, I’m not total rubbish.” She adds a cheeky wink with that last detail that makes you question whether or not she’s flirting with you.

“I…I can give you a chance. I’m not so sure about everyone else. I’m not so good in a group setting.” Leah nods to herself. “And by the way you have one more question left.”

“Alright, how about this: will you go on a date with me?”

“I–uh–what?” You sputter out, not expecting the blonde to be quite so forward.

“Go out with me. We’ll get to know one another, you can see that I genuinely want to know you, and then maybe you can work towards getting to know the rest of the girls.”

“Why can’t we just get to know each other as friends?” You ask, wary of her motives. “Because you’re insanely gorgeous and I’m pretty sure if we started hanging out as friends it would quickly turn into something more. Why not just skip to the fun part?” She has a point, you admit to yourself. You’re definitely guilty of sneaking glances when you think she’s not looking, admiring her beauty from afar.

“Okay, sure.” You can’t help but smile as you agree. “Let’s go on a date.” Leah squeals, actually squeals, and launches herself at you for a hug.

“How’s this Thursday? Pick you up at six?”

Two Weeks Later

I would do whatever you wanted

We don't have to leave the apartment

You’ve been going out with Leah for two weeks and it’s good. Waking up in the morning and realizing you have an hour before your alarm goes off, finding the perfect pair of jeans, heart stoppingly good. It’s easy with Leah, unlike many of your past relationships. You don’t feel like you’re constantly second guessing yourself or like you need to be on when you’re with her, you can just be. She doesn’t play games with you, she’s straightforward and doesn’t beat around the bush. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s good in bed. On the rare occasions that she lets you take control, on her back completely at your mercy, you feel powerful and in control. When she’s on top of you, coaxing orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm from your body, you lose yourself in the way she makes you feel. The way she takes you apart oh so slowly and–

“...Y/N?” Leah’s voice snaps you out of your daydreaming as she taps on your forehead. “Hello, is anyone home?”

The two of you are lying in her bed, spending one of your rare days off with one another. The defender has her back pressed against the headboard and you are settled between her thighs, head resting on her chest. “Sorry, sorry. What’s up?”

“I was asking what you wanted to do for dinner tonight.” “Oh, I don’t care. You pick.”

“Well…” Leah pauses, looking down at you with careful concern in her eyes. “Beth and Viv are having a thing tonight. They invited us. We could go to that.”

“I’m not so sure Leah. I don’t think I’m ready.” You look up at her guiltily, feeling bad that you’re preventing her from seeing her friends. “You should go though. I can just head back to my place for the night.”

“What? No. I want to hang out with you, I just thought it might be time to get to know the girls. It’s okay if you’re not ready though.”

“You don’t want to go?” “I didn’t say that. I said I want to spend time with you.”

“I still think you should go.” This conversation was slowly starting to feel more and more like a fight.

“What’s this about, Y/N? Do you not want to spend time with me?” Leah’s voice is cold now.

“Don’t turn this on me, I-you know what? I think I should just go home. I’ll see you at training tomorrow.” You push yourself off the bed, stalking to gather your things.

“What the hell, Y/N? Is this how you deal with things? You can’t just up and leave when shit gets hard. Come sit down and talk to me.” You look up to see that Leah has followed you out of the bedroom and is sitting on the couch. You shuffle over, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Well?” Your voice is short. “I don’t really have much else to say, so it’s your turn to talk.”

“I guess I’m just a bit confused. Why are you so insistent that I do this? Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Leah’s voice is still cold but a bit of insecurity creeps through as well, her voice breaking just a little.

“No! I just…” Tears begin to well in your eyes before you can get the full sentence out. Taking a deep breath, you try again. “I don’t want you to resent me. Or feel like I’m keeping you from your friends.” “Oh, Y/N.” Leah murmurs, her voice soft now. “I could never resent you, baby.” “I just…we never do anything with anyone else. It’s not much of a relationship. I don’t want you to get bored of me” You stare intensely at your lap, not fully buying her response.

“Hey. Look at me.” The blonde tilts your chin up with her finger, forcing eye contact. “I am happy to do absolutely anything with you. It doesn’t have to be with other people. Hell, we could never leave this flat again and I wouldn’t complain. I never ever want you to question this. We’ve just gotta communicate, yeah?” She pulls you into her side as she says this, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right.” You let yourself lean into the Brit. “And I want you to know that I do want to get to know the girls, I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Just let me know when you are, darling, and I��ll set it up.” With that, Leah presses a kiss into the crown of your head. “Where’d we land on dinner by the way?”

“Well you’re certainly not cooking so would you rather have me cook or should we order takeout?” Your cheeky response results in Leah pushing you so that you are now on your back and she is hovering above you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

She looks as though she’s about to kiss you, she even leans in as though that is what’s going to happen, but then her hands are on your sides and she’s tickling you. You squeal, trying to squirm away from her but she has you pinned to the couch. You eventually manage to roll off the couch and dash off, using your knee to push Leah off of you. She follows close behind, wrapping her arms around your waist and lifting you off your feet. As you laugh breathlessly she carries you towards her bedroom, tossing you onto the bed a dark look coming over her eyes.

Afterwards, the two of you lay intertwined, recuperating from taking one another to pieces. You reach up to stroke her hair, content in the small moment you were sharing. It was in that moment that you knew.

“I’m ready to get to know everyone now.” You murmur softly, looking up at Leah to see her reaction. She’s hesitant at first, not wanting to push you.

“Really? You’re sure?” You nod, smiling up at her. “Is this because of the sex? Like, y’know, I’m just so good that you’re super confident now?”

“No you asshole!” You sit up, smacking Leah lightly on the chest. “I just…I don’t know. You make me feel so safe and you obviously trust the girls, so I have no reason to be scared I don’t think.”

Leah presses a kiss to your cheek, pulling you closer.

“I’ll set it up.”

That Weekend

We stayed a couple hours

Our clothes matched enough to throw me off a bit

“You’re kidding.” Leah snorts as you open the door to your apartment. You stare back, unsure of what to say. The two of you have accidentally dressed in what are basically matching outfits: white tank top, black pants, white sneakers.

“Goddamnit,” You groan, turning to head back into your place. “I’m gonna go change. They’ll think I’m weird if we show up in matching outfits.”

“We’re late enough as it is, it’ll be fine.” She says, a hand reaching out to wrap around your wrist. “Let’s go, Y/L/N!”

As Leah parks the car in Viv and Beth’s driveway, you try to focus on your breathing. It’s just a dinner. A dinner with your teammates who, Leah has assured you endlessly, are excited to get to know you. Still, you can’t help but worry. What if you mess something up? What if they don’t like you and it changes how Leah sees you? What if, what if, what if. The possibilities are never ending. Leah, having finished parking, can clearly see that you’re overthinking things.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?” She reaches over the center console to rest her hand comfortingly on top of yours.

“I dunno, just nervous I guess.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, they’re gonna love you, I promise. Just be yourself.” She lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a kiss on each finger. She then gets out of the car, walking around to open your door.

“Shall we?” She asks, extending her arm.

You grab it, stepping out of the car slowly. You let her lead you to the door and she squeezes your hand twice as she knocks. Leaning over to you, she whispers:

“If it gets to be too much, tell me. We can go whenever you want.” Grateful for her concern, you squeeze back.

At that moment, the door swings open.

“Leah! Y/N! Come on in!” Beth is smiling brightly at the two of you as she steps aside to let you enter. “Everyone’s just chilling in the kitchen, follow me.”

The blonde leads the two of you further into the house, stopping in the kitchen. Viv is behind the counter cooking with Caitlin as her sous chef, while Lia, Katie, and Ruesha are perched at the counter observing. They’re all laughing at something Ruesha said, and look up when you walk in. Caitlin is the first to speak, greeting you warmly.

“Hey guys, good to see you!” The rest of the girls follow suit, echoing greetings at you. Beth passes you each a glass of wine and gestures to you to take a seat at the counter.

“Um…did you guys mean to dress alike?” Katie asks, hiding a smirk. You blush, and look at Leah.

“Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. What’s it to you, McCabe?” She bites back, a grin on her face.

You perch next to Leah, your hand finding hers under the counter. As you chat more with each girl you can feel yourself relaxing bit by bit. They’re all incredibly kind and clearly do want to know you.

“Viv, whatever you’re cooking smells fantastic.” You compliment the Dutch woman, who smiles as you say this. “Can I help at all? I’m not too bad in the kitchen.”

“That would be great actually! Cait’s a great help but many hands make light work. Do you think you could make a salad?” Viv directs you, gesturing to the empty salad bowl. “Everything you need should either be in the fridge or on the spice rack and if you’d like an apron they’re in the first drawer to the right of the dishwasher.”

You stand from your spot behind the counter and tie an apron around your waist.

“Oh my God, Y/N you have to make that one kale caesar salad with the dressing. It’s the best salad you’ll ever have, I swear.” Leah directs the last part to the rest of the room, all of whom look intrigued.

“Okay then! One kale caesar salad coming up!”

You set to work, gathering your ingredients for both the salad and the dressing. Viv and Caitlin work next to you, the three of you in perfect sync as you move around the kitchen.

“Leah! Come sit in the living room with us,” Katie’s voice drifts into the kitchen, and you look up to see that she, Ruesha, Beth, and Lia have all moved into the next room. Only Leah remains at the counter, watching your every move. Now, she looks at you with a clear question in her eyes.

“Go, I’m good.” You smile reassuringly, waving your wine glass towards the next room. She returns the smile and turns to go.

“So. Y/N.” As soon as Leah’s left the room, you hear Caitlin’s voice behind you. “Now that Leah’s out of the way, Viv and I want to get to know you some more.”

You spin to see the two women smiling mischievously at you, clueing you into the fact that this was somehow planned.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” You respond, surprising even yourself with your willingness to be open. Something about Viv and Caitlin just makes you feel at ease.

“What was it like to play in Seattle?” Viv jumps at the chance to ask a question just as Caitlin is opening her mouth.

“I mean, it was amazing, I won’t lie to you. I grew up in Seattle so it was unbelievable to get to play for my home club, and the culture of the team is insane. They’re absolutely still my family.”

“So why’d you leave?” It’s Caitlin this time asking the question. “Sorry if that sounds rude I just mean if it was so perfect something must have happened, right?” “Yes and no. I think part of it was that I felt like I wasn’t progressing much as a player and I knew my contract was up at the end of the season so it seemed like the right time for a change. I think if I had been in a different headspace I might have tried to stay at OL Reign, but I was struggling a lot so it just wasn’t the right time for me to be there. I’d love to go back someday though.” You answer her question with complete honesty, already feeling as though you can trust the two women standing before you.

Apparently satisfied with your answers, the two women go back to working in silence. You smile to yourself as you mix the salad dressing. It appears as though you’ve made your first friends at Arsenal. It feels good to have someone other than Leah in your corner. While she’s amazing, there’s something to be said about the strength of friendship. Just as you’re thinking of her, the blonde sneaks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her head into your neck. You chuckle, leaning back slightly so that your weight is resting on her body.

“Hey pretty girl.” She murmurs, the words vibrating against your neck. You shift your head slightly away from her, a suggestion that she should take advantage of the extra space. Thankfully, Leah takes the hint. She presses subtle kisses against your neck, and you can feel that she’s smiling as she does so. The moment is cut short all too soon, however, by Caitlin clapping her hands.

“Dinner’s ready I think!” The Aussie announces. “Y/N, Leah, stop your PDA and come eat.” Blushing, you separate from Leah and carry the salad bowl into the dining room. The brit is close on your heels, snagging the seat next to yours and placing her hand on your thigh as soon as she sits down. You lean over, beckoning Leah closer.

“Someone’s feeling a bit clingy tonight, huh, darling?” You whisper, cupping your hands around her ear. “And I thought I would be the one stuck to you all night.”

Leah smirks at your comment, now leaning into your ear.

“I can’t help it, love. I can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” Her voice is low and rough, suddenly full of desire.

Her words elicit a small gasp from your lips, and you look at her purposefully. This is not the time nor the place for such a display but you’re also not too upset about it. You know she won’t push you farther than is comfortable and definitely won’t do anything that will embarrass you, so you’re content to let her tease you a bit. As the rest of your teammates sit down, you notice how easy this feels. You aren’t second guessing everything you say and you’re able to chat easily with each of the women sitting at the table. You sit with them for what is likely another two or three hours but feels like thirty minutes, talking and laughing with one another. Eventually, Leah is yawning next to you, sleepy from the amount of wine she’s had, so you decide it’s time to head home.

“Are you sure you’re alright to drive?” Viv asks with concern as everyone gathers by the front door getting ready to leave. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” “I only had one glass while I was cooking and that was ages ago. We’ll be alright, thanks so much Viv. Dinner was lovely” You smile warmly at the Dutch woman and pull her into a hug. You make the rounds to all the other girls, wishing them good night. When you reach Caitlin you grin as you hug her.

“Let’s do lunch soon, yeah?” You ask as you pull away.

“Absolutely. See you at training, mate.”

With that, you and Leah head to the car. As you’re pulling out of the driveway Leah looks at you, eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Thank you for coming tonight. It meant a lot to them. And me.” She murmurs, reaching to place her hand on your thigh once again. You put your hand on top of hers, tapping it lightly in reply. One night doesn’t automatically solve your problems but it’s a really good start.

Two Months Later

And I need you sometimes

We'll be alright

Met you at the right time

You’re pretty sure you’ve just ruined everything. Two months of pure bliss and you just destroyed it all with three stupid words. What had you been thinking? It’s too soon. You know that. You’re usually the one wanting to slow things down in relationships and yet you still did it. Something just came over you today. After Leah’s telling silence you had fled and now, here you are. Curled up in bed with a tub of ice cream, crying over everything you’ve just lost.

After about an hour of this, you hear a knock on your door. Not in the mood to talk to anyone, you decide to ignore it and hope whoever it is will go away. They do not, and the knocking continues for another five or so minutes. Just as it’s finished and you’re thinking that the knocker has finally left, your phone lights up with a text.

Cait: Leah called me. Viv and I are here.

You wait a moment hoping they’ll get the hint, but no such luck.

Cait: Please let us in.

Sighing, you push yourself out of bed. The two women, who have quickly become some of your closest friends, are clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon. You open the door and are met by two of the most concerned faces you’ve ever seen.

“Shit, Y/N. Come here.” Viv exclaims upon seeing you, your face stained with tears.

Viv reaches out, enveloping you in a warm hug. You feel Caitlin’s arms wrap around you from behind. After a few moments of this, you pull away and gesture inside. The women follow you inside to the living room, settling on the couch on either side of you. Caitlin grabs your hand, squeezing lightly.

“We’re here if you wanna talk about it, but it’s okay if you just want to sit here.” The aussie says gently, nudging you with her shoulder.

“I want to talk about it.” You say, still sniffling. “Leah and I broke up.”

Three Hours Earlier

It started with pancakes. You had spent the night at Leah’s and woke up early, wanting to surprise her with breakfast in bed. When you woke, however, Leah was no longer in bed. Confused, you padded into the kitchen to find her at the stove–a rare sight. She didn’t notice you when you entered the kitchen, so you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She jumped slightly when you did so, a smile appearing on her lips.

“Whatcha doin’?” You asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Making you pancakes. But I can’t focus when you’re right there, you have to go sit at the counter.” She playfully nudged you away from her, and you obeyed, moving to sit at the counter.

Watching her move around the kitchen, focusing oh so carefully on her cooking, determined not to mess up, you were struck suddenly with a thought. A thought you couldn’t hold in much longer. Just as she set a plate of pancakes in front of you, some part of your brain decided that was the perfect time.

“Leah.” You said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you. You cupped her face, brushing her hair back. “I love you.”

She didn’t say anything. She stood there, looking down at you for what felt like hours, but didn’t say a single word. Dejected, you pulled away.

“I, um–I have to go.” You stammered, embarrassed that you had thought the two of you were ready for such a big step.

“Y/N, wait–” She called after you, but it was too late. You had left, were driving home with tears rolling down your face. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

Present

You look back and forth between Caitlin and Viv as you finish telling the story. They’re sharing some sort of knowing glance that you can’t read. Then, Viv places her hand on your arm.

“Y/N, that’s really hard and I know it feels like shit to not have her say it back but it doesn’t sound like you broke up.” Viv’s voice is soft, almost a whisper. You look at her, confused.

“What am I supposed to do now though? Pretend I never said it? I can’t do that.”

“Nobody’s asking you to do that, we just think you should talk to her about it.” It’s Caitlin speaking this time. “And, by the way, she didn’t say you’d broken up when she called me. She just said you were upset when you left but she wasn’t sure if you’d want to see her.”

“Okay,” You sigh. “I’ll text her later to see if we can talk.” “Or,” Viv says as there’s another knock on the door. “You can talk to her now. We texted her when we got here.” Your friends get up to leave, each kissing you on the forehead as you sit frozen on the couch. You hear murmurs in the hallway and then the sound of the door shutting. Suddenly, Leah is standing in the living room, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. She’s clearly been crying too, her eyes bloodshot and her hair mussed.

“Hi.” The blonde says tentatively, taking a step towards you. “Can I sit?”

You nod, gesturing to the spot next to you on the sofa. She sits gingerly, clearly wary of how close she should sit. You look at her, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, she speaks first.

“So I think I owe you an explanation.” She looks at you, searching your face. For what exactly you’re unsure, but you nod at her to continue. “My last relationship moved pretty fast. We said I love you pretty early on and then we kind of crashed and burned. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do that again so today when you said it I was caught off guard. I didn’t want to ruin such a good thing. But then you left and I was broken. Not knowing where you were or if you were okay…I couldn’t stand to lose you. That’s when I realized.”

“Realized what?” You look up at her to see that she’s been waiting for you to make eye contact.

“That I love you too.”

When she says this you lean farther into her, pressing your lips to hers. This kiss is different from all the ones you’ve shared before. It’s tentative, not because you don’t know each other but because you don’t want to move it too fast. You both want to savor it, not wanting to let go of this moment.

Later that night as you lie in bed together, a question pops into your mind. A question that might be risky, but that you can’t shake.

“Leah?” You murmur, twisting in her arms so you can look at her. “What would you say if I asked you to move in with me?” A wide smile appears on your lips and she kisses you once more.

“I’d say I was about to ask you the same damn thing, my love.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc

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pokichuwrites · 4 months

Text

Rendoc fluff because of the category 5 Doc tweet mans brought this on himself.

Doc frowned as he struggled to move his mechanical arm. Despite specifically designing it to be waterproof to protect the precious redstone circuitry, it somehow got waterlogged after Doc was out too long in this rainstorm.

It would be just a little bit longer and he would be home, but until then he had to hope the damage wouldn’t get worse as he held his umbrella over his head.

Doc didn’t like rain in general, and especially not when it managed to find a hole in Doc’s waterproofing.

When he finally made it to his house, he tried to transfer the umbrella to his mechanical hand, but the thing jerked when he tried to grab it so he huffed and, trying ro ignore how ridiculous this would look but knowing he didn’t have any other options, put the shaft of the umbrella in his mouth and knocked, hoping Ren was home so he wouldn’t have to fish for his keys.

Doc heard click of the door being unlocked and sagged in relief, moving to get inside the house.

“Dude!” Ren protested even as he moved out of his way to let him in, “you’re going to get water everywhere!”

Doc took his umbrella out of his mouth and grunted. “I’ll clean it up, it’s just water,” he said as he shook out the umbrella.

“Uh, Doc? Your- here let me get that for you,” Ren closed the door before taking the umbrella from Doc, who nodded in thanks, and closed and put it away. Doc took note of the way Ren’s ears were twitching nervously.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll take it off and fix it-”

“With your arm jerking around like that?” Ren argued. “At least let me help take it off.” Doc opened his mouth to argue, but then the mechanical arm spasmed and Doc saw his boyfriend’s point.

The two walked over to Doc’s workshop in the basement. An aggressive twitch that nearly pushed them both down the stairs made Doc seriously begin to regret choosing the basement for his workshop.

Once they were finally fully in the workshop, Doc sat down awkwardly. One problem with being a creeper hybrid is that having four legs can be an absolute nightmare to manage sometimes. Not as bad as centaurs because at least his knees can handle sitting and laying down unlike the evolutionary failure that was the horse, but still awkward.

Ren grabbed the tools and began working at removing Doc’s prosthetic. Because it needed to connect to Doc’s nerves to allow him to actually move it, it was painful to put on and remove. Doc designed it to be able to adjust one-handed, of course, but every time his arm twitched, so did the rest of his body. His arm simply wasn’t steady enough.

This wasn’t the first time Ren helped Doc with his prosthetic, even thought he far preferred to do it himself. After a lot of convincing, Doc had taught Ren how to remove the arm, put the arm on him, and do simple fixes on it about five months after they moved in together. After that Ren had only messed with Doc’s arm a few times (even though the man was not very talented with mechanics). He clearly still remembered what Doc told him, which made something warm blossom in his chest as the arm was deactivated and placed on the table.

“Thank you,” Doc said quietly. He knew Ren’s sensitive ears would still pick up on it.

Ren smirked. “Thank you for letting me,” he replied easily, beginning to walk upstairs. “Now, I’m going to make you something to eat and you’re going to get comfy, yeah?”

Doc smiled as he followed Ren. “What exactly does ‘get comfy’ entail?”

“Warm up with a blanket and clean pajamas,” Ren elaborated.

Doc nodded. “I can do that.”

Ren giggled. The two wordlessly split ways as Ren moved to the kitched while Doc moved to the bathroom to dry himself off. Once that was done he went to the bedroom and removed his soaking wet clothes, tossing them into the hamper. He debated for a moment before grabbing a sleeveless pastel pink nightgown and putting it on. Most of Doc’s clothes had one sleeve removed anyway to accommodate the arm, but it felt nice to wear something designed to have no sleeves. Also, Doc and Ren had an inside joke about wearing pink, and even though he wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, it made him feel warm and happy whenever he wore the color.

He grabbed his favorite blanket and moved into the living room, sitting in front of the fireplace with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Ren and Doc were quiet for a bit. It was broken by Ren, saying “I told you to wait another day to return, you know.”

Doc groaned, but Ren’s change from concern to banter was enough of a relief that he genuinely smiled almost as wide as his face (which was limited by missing facial muscles) would allow. “Dear, you know I’ve been through far worse than some rain. Besides, damaging the arm is a sacrifice I’m willing to make if it means seeing you.”

He turned and looked ofer the kitchen counter at Ren, who was suspiciously looking away from Doc in an attempt to hide his flustered blush.

Doc laughed, and Ren did too. It’s a nice sound. Doc thinks it might be his favorite.

#hurt/comfort?#i guess #hes less hurt but his prosthetic is certainly disagree with water so thats something #docm77 #rendog #rendoc

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aita-blorbos · 8 months

Note

AITA for getting my friend’s name wrong for several months?

let me explain. i (17M) transfered to another high school last april. most of the kids here avoid me because of… reasons, but i’ve managed to make a few friends here in between my totally legal extracirriculars and getting harassed by faculty. one of these friends (15F) is actually a popular gymnast in the year below me, who i’ll call k. we’ve become pretty good friends over the past few months. i support her gymnastic pursuits and in return she teaches me how to do sick backflips. i picked out glasses for her dad. we went into the soul world together. yknow, normal stuff.

the problem is that i recently learned that i’ve been calling “k” the wrong name basically since we met. i assumed that her name was k after seeing it on one of her notebooks, but the notebook actually belonged to her dead twin sister. “k” (or rather, s) and her idenitity are apparently “common knowledge”, but because s never corrected me and everyone else usually calls her by her her last name, i only found out when our mutual acquaintance/ the-guy-who-tried-to-kill-me-but-I-still-hang-out-with (18M) told me. to be fair, s also started to genuinely believe that she was her dead sister due to some wacky hijinks by our school counsellor– please don’t ask– so i don’t think this is totally on me.

anyways, s is fine now (she remembered that she isn’t her sister and has stopped trying to battle us with spirit pokemon over it). she says that it’s okay that i didn’t know her name and even apologised for going along with it, but i still feel pretty bad. like, it’s pretty shitty to not know your friend’s name. 18M thinks i’m an absolute moron (which he always does) and has been making fun of me non stop since, but my cat (???M) told me that i couldn’t have known so there’s no point worrying about it. i also kind of have to focus on saving the world from my afformentioned councillor so s isn’t really a priority right now. Still, i feel shitty about the whole thing so, AITA? and if so, what should i do to make it up to s?

edit: please don’t worry about the guy who tried to kill me! i know it sounds alarming but consider <3 he’s a funny little man. my friends have said there is something wrong with me for this and i *would* go see a therapist or something but the last time i did that he became a god who’s currently imprisoning humanity. what can you do.

edit again: my cat can talk yeah. he says to stop posting our intel on reddit but in his language that means he says hi.

#AITA #am i the asshole #unreality

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hyunnieshannie · 1 year

Text

SUPERBOARD

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Race

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word Count: 3,786

General Synopsis: S_Class started off as a street racing team, built between friends but as the adrenaline rush died down, racing wasn’t enough. N/S was formed. What started off with petty crimes, quickly spiraled into a string of organized crime.

Warnings: swearing, drug use, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, reckless driving, (please let us know if we missed any)

A/N: RACING HYUNE RACING HYUNE RACING HYUNE anyways welcome to chapter 1!!! Uhh yeah, anyways as per usual this chapter was proofread by a team of leebits <3 -Mini NYOOOOM - Kitty

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, this does not represent the idols mentioned in any way.

please DO NOT rewrite, translate, or repost this fic. Thank you.

PREVIOUS MASTERLIST NEXT

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do will be held against you in a court of law.” The officer continued to recite your rights, as he cuffed you. Everything fell in slow motion, like scenes in a movie when everything goes wrong, when the absolute shock finally hits and nothing is processing normally.

This wasn’t supposed to be how it went. None of this was supposed to happen. No one was supposed to die. Now here you are, being aggressively placed in the back of the cop car as Oddinary bled out on the street. Maniac screaming at the top of his lungs on how he’d gut everyone in the vicinity if they didn’t let him go, if they didn’t let him hold her. Just as the cop shut the door, the sudden feeling of hopelessness sank in. There was nothing you could do, Oddinary would die there. Maniac was uncontrollable, and Phobia was silently standing over the body, blood covering his hands.

How the fuck, did it come to this?

Six months earlier:

Moving to Seoul, may have been one of the worst decisions your family has ever made. You enjoyed the quieter country sides, you never wanted to live in the city. You had to transfer schools mid-year and you already had a hard time making friends at your old university. You unfortunately were not hopeful that this school was going to be any better than the last, nor would it be the last school you’d attend by the time you graduated.

You always had a smaller group of friends, keeping your circle small. It’s not that you necessarily had a hard time making friends, it was simply that you couldn’t care to expand to more than 4 or 5 people at a time. It’s already been a week at this new university and you haven't spoken to anybody besides your professors. Off to a great start, Y/N.

During your free period in the afternoon, you made your way outside. A little fresh air could always help the stress of being that new person - the one everyone stared at but never approached. As you wandered the campus to your new spot - a bench that was shrouded in heavy unkempt foliage obviously forgotten by the groundskeepers. To your surprise you found a boy hunched over on your usual bench. Still you made your way over.

“Fuck-” he stammered, “You scared me Jesus Christ, I thought you were a security guard or some shit-”

“Oh, no. I’m not.”

“Good.” He continued back on what he was doing, lighting a hand rolled cigarette. He took a long drag from it, coughed a few times and extended it to you. “Want some?” You examined it carefully, took it between your fingers, bringing it to your mouth to inhale its fumes.

“Your weed is shit.” You sighed as you sat beside the boy, who looked at you amused.

“Yeah well, that’s what happens when it’s mostly shake.” He laughs, “Was supposed to get more, and my guy didn’t show today. Fucking prick.”

“Get yourself a better dealer.”

“No shit, wish I would have thought of that!” The two of you spent a few minutes passing the joint back and forth, sitting in silence as you slowly built up a high, “Jake, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you laugh, “nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he sticks his hand out to shake yours. You take it and give his hand a firm shake making him laugh. You both sit in a comfortable silence as you continue to pass the joint to one another. You’re pulled from your rhythm when his phone rings. “Yeah?” His smile quickly fades and annoyance takes over his features. “Bro I’ve been waiting here for like twenty minutes,” He rolls his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back in frustration. “Yeah, yeah whatever dude. Just tell Toronto to get his ass over to our spot in fifteen, or I’m fucking slashing a hole in his tires.” He hangs up his phone and aggressively drops his hand in his lap. You tip the joint towards him and he looks at you and smiles before taking the joint and inhaling deeply.

“Yo! Finn!” You hear a deep booming voice coming from behind the foliage, you can't see who it is yet, but you assume it's a teacher about to catch you and your new acquaintance doing illegal activities on campus.

“Fucking Venom, what are you doing out here?” Jake says to the young boy who just walked out of the trees.

“Dragging your ass back, your boys are looking for you.” The deep voiced boy smiles as he looks you up and down, very obviously checking you out. He’s not very subtle, is he?

“Thought your name was Jake?” You turn back to your smoking pal, creasing your eyebrows in confusion.

“It is, love,” Jake says as he lets out a light laugh.

That was your first encounter with them. You never really expected to see them again. Fortunately for you the next day, Jake ran up behind you placing his arm around your shoulders. You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to face him,

“What are you doing, shake boy?” Jake feigns a shot to the heart, dragging you closer to him as he grasps at you to hold him up. “Let go of me you freak.” You laugh as you attempt to shrug him off of you.

“You wound me,” He smirks, “And here I was, just coming to say hello to my new friend.”

“Oh is that what we are?” you smirk back, elbowing him lightly in his side.

“You smoked my shitty weed, so yeah. I don’t just share willy-nilly with random strangers! Now if you’re willing to pay for it, that’s a whole other story,” he says, poking your sides in an attempt to annoy you.

“Paying for such shit weed? Sorry bud, I don’t carry cash on me,” you tease, making a ridiculous sad face at him.

“Then I guess you’re stuck being my friend” he beams a huge smile at you, pulling you tighter into an awkward side-hug. “Anyways, don’t act all weird about it, I’ve seen you around and you don’t talk to anyone, so I guess I’m doing you a favor too you know.”

“Ouch, no need to point that out. But thanks for your charity I guess,” you say rolling your eyes at your new ‘friend’.

“You can thank me later,” he laughs, “I figured you could join me tonight.”

“Asking out your ‘friend’ so soon?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him. You found it kind of weird how comfortable you were around him already.

“Nah, don’t get it twisted, girlie. I’m tryna bring you around so people can get to know you. You know why no one talks to you right?” At first you thought he was jokingly asking, but when you looked at him, he was quite serious about it. “You’re new, you came in during the middle of the semester, everyone’s got their groups, and people here, well to put it simply, they don’t take well to new people. It’s easier to pretend you don’t exist, then to have to adjust to bringing someone new into their groups.” He shivers slightly, as if he was remembering something before he shakes his head and refocuses on you. “So, I wanna bring you somewhere so people can see you’re not some… boring outsider.”

“Is that what people think of me?” you ask quietly, not meaning to sound so upset about it.

“Take it with a grain of salt, these are Seoulites. More often than not, country folk come here and prefer to keep to themselves quietly, hence not even bothering. But I, as your new best friend, know you prefer to have some fun.” he proclaims, quite proudly.

“So where is it you want to bring me, exactly?” Your curiosity has definitely peaked now.

“Meet me in the parking lot after class?” He looks at his watch and jumps. “I gotta go or I’m gonna be late, but don’t forget! I’ll see you later Y/N!” He yells as he begins sprinting to his class. You shake your head and laugh to yourself. How the fuck did I suddenly become someone’s best friend?

~𝄋~

Your class was let out earlier than expected, you carefully considered your option of just going home instead of meeting with your self proclaimed best friend. Sure going out could be fun, but being introduced to a group of people who in general could care less if you went or stayed home sounded uninviting. As Jake said, these people didn’t want to know you. They had all made their assumptions about you before you had even gotten the chance to say hello. Was there any real reason to try and impress the ‘Seoulites’ of your university?

Jake seemed nice enough. He was willing to bring you out, introduce you to people and all of this over smoking a bit of weed with him? Were there conditions to becoming friends with people here? Were they really just scared of people they considered ‘sticks in the mud’? So what if some people preferred to keep to themselves? Who cares? What kind of activities could these people be doing that would worry them so much they’d prefer to ignore someone than to attempt to get to know them?

Seoul was full of people who preferred to keep to themselves. What difference did it make if you came from the city or the countryside. These people act so high and mighty, acting as if there were some vast difference between the two types of people. Sure, those from smaller towns may keep to themselves, but contrary to the belief of the people of your university; the people from smaller towns tend to have more fun. Moving from a small town to a city is intimidating. Which in your opinion is probably why so many of those before you kept to themselves. It’s hard going from a town where everyone knows everyone, to a city where you could see someone one day, and never see them again for the rest of your life.

You missed home, more importantly you missed your friends. You miss the nights of climbing your old high school and drinking on the roof. Watching as your friends would dance around the edge. Days you’d skip class with your best friends and drive to the city, tripping absolute balls in the back seat of her boyfriend's car as he wove through the crowded highways. Wandering the downtown streets of the city as the acid kicked in, and you watched the city skyscrapers morph and move with the wind. Or the nights Experimenting in the basement of your best friend's house, while you were uncontrollably giggly. You’d stay wide awake, talking absolute nonsense with your friends while the mixture of shrooms and molly would course through your body; no topics off limits. No one, off limits. And the best this city could offer you was a boy smoking shitty weed? That’s what these so called city people called fun?

As you were reminiscing about your hometown and your friends, you heard someone screaming your name, quickly pulling you from your thoughts and your head whipping around to find the source of the screaming.

“You got out early huh?” Jake waved you in his direction, putting his joint back up to his lips. He was perched up against a silver Honda Civic decorated with stickers all over his back windshield. He has a sticker with the name ‘FINN’ in big orange lettering, another of the word ‘LIMITLESS’, and a third ‘7PM’.

“Mmm, I did; you’re quite observant.” you tease, pulling the joint out of his mouth and nodding towards his rear windshield. “What’s up with the tacky stickers?”

“What can I say,” he shrugs, “And don’t go calling my stickers tacky, they’re my branding.” he says as he puffs out his chest a bit, obviously proud of his so-called ‘branding’.

“Branding,” you scoff, “So Finn, is limitless at seven pm?” you laugh,

“Common now doll, don’t be like that. If you want to know what they mean you can just ask.” he teased you as he stuck his tongue out at you, taking his joint back from you.

“Alright then, Ken. Go on, tell me what they mean.”

“Get in, and I’ll tell you on the way.” Jake opens the passenger door, motioning for you to take a seat. You give him a nod, and hop in. Placing your bag on the floor of the overly clean car. You don’t think you’d seen a car this clean in a while. No one cares about their cars this much do they? It was practically spotless if it wasn’t for the ashtray in the center console, and a half empty water bottle beside it. “So?” You say as he starts the car. The engine roars as it starts. Pressing down on the clutch, he carefully brings the car into reverse. Bringing it out of its spot in the parking lot, and slowly driving it off the campus property.

“Mmm, well. Finn’s my name.” he says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t tell you that his name was Jake literally yesterday. Except you do remember that one guy who barged in on you two smoking calling him Finn.

“Now here I was thinking it was Jake.”

“It is, but where we’re going you call me Finn. Don’t even mention my other name.” he says seriously, looking at you quickly to make sure you understood his seriousness. When you gave him a small nod he continued, “Limitless is the name of my crew.”

“What about seven pm?” you ask and you can see him flinch just a little bit, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little bit.

“Just a time.” Jake waves it off quickly, dismissing you. “Don’t think about it too much, I just enjoy the sticker being there. Someone gave it to me.”

As he turned onto the highway, your body chilled. As if the temperature in the car had dropped significantly. You looked at him, as his eyes narrowed. Completely focusing on the road in front of him. “Now, I’m going to ask this once.” He smirked, a mischievous smirk that should have warned you about what you were about to get into. “How do you handle reckless driving?” he asks as seriously as he can, the smirk not falling from his face. His finger was tapping on the steering wheel, as if there was some sort of impatience in which he couldn’t contain.

“Do what you want, not my car. Not my rules.” you shrug, honestly you were just curious on how ‘reckless’ he could be. Your answer was what he was waiting for before slamming down on the clutch, fiddling with the gear shift, as he brought the car from 80/km per hour to 150/km per hour in just a few seconds. He was swerving through the traffic, and in some moments you could swear it’d have been a near miss of a crash if he didn’t turn at just the right time.

You watch him as he drives, the grin that was previously plastered on his lips has now turned into a full blown smile, his mouth slightly agape from laughing lightly as he swerves through the traffic. He was enjoying himself and you smiled to yourself as he hollered in excitement. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he kept speeding up. The faster he went, the wider the smile, the louder the laughter.

Finally, he pulled off the highway. Your heart was pumping at an alarming rate as he continued on speeding down the streets. There was no chance of him slowing down, even as he drove through the red lights, on his way to whatever location he was bringing you to. He took a sharp turn into a large parking lot of what looked to be an abandoned factory. The turn throwing your body against the door of his car. You held onto the handle of the door, to stabilize yourself.

The parking lot was full of cars, engines roaring; people walking about going from car to car. Groups of people huddled around their cars as they watched Jake speed into the lot. He pulled the parking brake quickly, drifting into the middle of their meet. A smug smirk came from a man standing near a large group of people, his arm hung over a girl with long black hair.

“Looks like Finn has finally fucking arrived!” The man called out. Jake smirked at him as he began to roll his windows up, bringing the parking brake back down and slowly driving his car into the spot that was left open. Presumably for him.

“Y/N.” Jake called your name in a serious tone, you looked over at him. “Like I said, my name here is Finn. Don’t bring up the name Jake here. Ever. Don’t ask questions, let them come to you. You’ll stick out less that way okay?”

“Dude, your scaring me a bit,”

“Trust me yeah?”

You had no reason not to trust him so far. You only met him yesterday, but so far he’s been kind to you. Unless he brought you here to kill you… Nahhhh. It should be fine right? You nod your head, and he smiles in return. Opening his door, and swiftly walking to your side of the car; opening your door for you. You step out of the car and instantly he wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you in close to him. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “They’re animals. I’d rather you stay close, yeah?”

“Looks like Finnigan’s finally fucking got himself a girl, good for you kiddo.” A girl laughs, as she makes her way across the parking lot from her own group of friends. Jake's friends all look to each other as the rest of the new person's friends begin to trail behind her. Another girl making her way up right beside her.

“Looks like Noeasy can’t mind her damn business again.” a guy from Jake, no, Finn’s friend group said.

“Shut it Hoshi.” the other girl barks.

“Oh common now Oddinary, why do you gotta be so hostile with me all the time?” the boy smirks,

“Who’s the girl Finnigan? You don’t just bring people into S_Class territory without telling one of us, you know the rules kid,” the taller girl says, not really paying attention to you.

“Oddinary call me Finnigan one more time, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what huh?” a man from the other group approaches behind the girls. He’s a little scary looking in your opinion, tall, light brown hair, leather jacket tightly drawn against his broad shoulders.

“Cool your jets, Maniac. He’s not gonna do shit to Oddinary and you know it,” the shorter girl says, putting her hand up against the guy, Maniac’s, chest.

“She’s new here. Got no name yet.” Jake Finn says, tilting his head toward you. “She’s in school with me, I vouch for her.”

“Vouching for a new girl in your school? Bold of you kiddo.” Oddinary smirks, Finn goes to open his mouth to defend his choice, knowing well that the girl before him was judging the both of you.

“You know we have a long vetting process, Finn.” Noeasy sighs, looking you up and down.

“She’s with a Limitless member, who the fuck are you two to be talking right now?” a voice from behind you barks. A tall, skinny, black haired guy comes up from behind you and Finn. He sizes up the two girls in front of you. You definitely did not want to get on this guy's bad side.

“She’s been brought to a race organized by S_Class, that's who the fuck we are to talk The8.” Oddinary pushes at him, you honestly couldn’t tell who would win in this fight. “Don’t fucking ever get in my face again.”

“Take a step back The8, you know the rules, this isn’t new. Come on, we’re all here to race, don’t start causing problems before the fun begins,” another guy says from behind you. He walks up to The8 and carefully leads him back to Finn’s friends behind you. The8 reluctantly goes, mumbling something under his breath as the other guy shakes his head.

“That’s right, listen to your boy. S.Coups knows what’s good.” Oddinary smirks, teasing the boy who could only clench his jaw as he looked over. “Well no name, welcome to the race.” She walks up to you, and gets close to your face, “Just saying, if you want to witness actual racing, drop the Limitless loser.” she whispers, “Finn,”

“What.”

“You have a race. Why not let Phobia take care of your girl, show her around, and explain the rules to her while you lose.” Oddinary looks at the other girl, who's smiling up at her. Sharing whatever plan they had between each other with only a look. As if they were speaking completely telepathically.

“I won’t lose.”

“Doubt it,” Oddinary laughs,

“Phobia! Get your ass over here!” Noeasy yells

“What? Stop yelling at me Noeasy, I’m literally right here,” a tall lanky, and in your opinion gorgeous, man walks up to the girls in front of you, his light pink hair styled up and away from his forehead. This man could be a fucking model.

“Meet no name. She’s with Finn, but he’s got a race to lose, so we need you to show her around, tell her the rules, you know the deal,” Noeasy explains as she peels you away from Finn.

“Shouldn’t one of the Limitless freaks do it?” Phobia runs his hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“You’ve been given a fucking order Phobia. Get to it.” Oddinary backs up her friend.

“Fuck. Fine.”

“Excuse me?” Noeasy questions.

“Yes Ma’ams,” he says as he rolls his eyes.

“That’s better,” Oddinary smiles.

The power and control these two had over their group. Their dynamic. THAT was what made your skin crawl for the first time that night. It wasn’t the absolute adrenaline rush from Jake’s driving, it wasn’t the crowd of people who looked like they could eat you alive. It wasn’t the8’s way of sizing them up, or how Maniac almost looked ready to kill when Jake spoke to Oddinary with the slightest of attitudes. It was the way these two had complete control over the situation, how both groups seemed to listen to every word that left their lips.

Was this a fucking cult?

Tags @chanlixiiee @channiesbub @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @elizalabs3 @multeciahucho

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microsuedemouse · 2 years

Note

oh god what’s happening in canada?

short answer: nationwide outages affecting internet & phone services, which started… about 16 hours ago now, as I’m writing this?

somewhat longer answer, with the disclaimer that I Am Not A News Source: Canada has three telecommunication companies - Rogers, Telus, and Bell. (this is a Whole Issue in itself, and one I am not qualified to explain.) all other phone/internet service providers are technically using the infrastructure of one of those companies. so like, my cell carrier is a company called Koodo, but Koodo uses Telus’s towers (etc.) for everything it does.

starting just before 5 am EST today, Rogers internet and phone services just Went Down. nationwide. coast to coast. as a result of this, Interac is largely down (that’s our interbank service - so no one can use their debit or credit cards anywhere, nor can they e-transfer money), most of our major banks are borked one way or another, 911 and emergency services are crippled in places and overloaded with panicked callers even where they’re working fine, public transit fare systems are reportedly affected??, public government services are a mess, basically everyone is lost. a massive The Weeknd concert in Toronto got cancelled lol? here’s an article from the globe and mail about where the impacts are being felt. basically imagine if roughly a third of your country just. lost all mobile and internet communication. yikes. (I haven’t looked up numbers btw, I don’t know how close it is to A Third, I’m just ballparking it bc Three Companies)

part of what’s crazy about this is that Rogers has yet to release any information about what caused this. they also can’t tell us when anything will be fixed. even the folks who still have internet and/or phone service are affected, especially by the debit/credit issue. like… especially after the last few years we’ve had, with everyone avoiding cash as much as possible, nobody’s prepared for a day of cash-only service essentially everywhere.

here’s the CBC article I’ve had an eye on with regular essential updates

as a somewhat more personal thought to add here - part of the problem with having only three telecommunication services in the entire country is that there’s essentially no competition, meaning their prices can be ridiculous. one place we feel that a lot is mobile data. so even though I’m lucky enough to still have cell/data service, I haven’t been using it most of the day. over the years my dad and I have used a series of special offers to get my plan up to 2 gigs a month at a fairly reasonable price, but I personally know plenty of folks with less! and I habitually try not to use much of it, in case I have a situation where I really need it. I could prob fuck around online more rn than I have been, but I wouldn’t want to watch videos or stream music or download anything. ESPECIALLY without knowing when the wifi will be back.

anyway. this is absurd and we’re all suffering. please cross your fingers for us lol

#stab stab kill kill @ the evil telecommunication monopoly #my siblings don’t even have SIM cards/actual phone plans so they’ve had no internet access at all lol #Canada #rogers outage

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kendsleyauthor · 7 months

Text

🎨 Journey + Hush + Labyrinth + Regret 🎨

Promptober 2023

Print / Trinket Universe (Kylian and Bluebell)

~2000 words

Warning: Dehumanization, fearplay

A sequel to this story. These were the only two stories I planned for this month about Kylian and Bluebell, but you can expect more in the future. 😉

@marydublinauthor

Bluebell was a woman of many talents and skills. Cleaning was not one of them. This was especially troubling because there were no other openings available for prints at the time she took the job. And changing roles was unheard of—she should be so grateful to have a job in the first place.

Thankfully, the fellow prints and even the human members of her crew were easily charmed. But was sure she was on thin ice despite that.

Kylian Hart, the owner of the estate she cleaned every Monday and Thursday afternoon, surely wanted her dead—or, at least fired.

Ever since he caught her dancing around in front of his mirror like an idiot, he glowered at her whenever they crossed paths. Even when she averted her gaze and hurried off to find something to clean, she was aware of his gaze following her like a lead weight.

He was probably waiting for the opportunity to pounce—ready for the moment she would do something frivolous and stupid again. It had been two weeks since the incident, and every time she had to return to the sprawling house, her stomach curdled with fear.

If Mr. Hart had complained to her supervisor, Bluebell hadn’t gotten wind of it yet. Which meant, for some reason, the enigmatic artist was keeping her slip-up to himself. That only put her more on edge. Any time now, he would fire her when she least expected it. She’d learned from the others that he had sent away cleaners for even less. Prints who were fired from a high-profile assignment like this were dismissed from the company entirely.

Against all odds, cleaning rich people’s ridiculous homes was a high-value job among prints. I’m grateful, she told herself over and over, as though it might nullify the karma that was chasing her. I’m very, very grateful.

If she lost this job, she doubted she’d find another. She wouldn’t starve—not when she had a way with charming meals from the neighbors in the slums. But it would mean having no money to wire to Aster. Not that she sent much, though it was something. And the wire transfer was one of the few ways she could assure him that she was still alive.

“Where are you off to, Blue?” Elara, one of the prints on the crew, spotted Bluebell wandering away while they were supposed to be polishing the contents of a china cabinet.

Bluebell barely needed the movable scaffolding to reach the floor. She landed lightly, slinging a rag over her shoulder with a warm smile. “Off to get a head start on the next room, sunshine. I feel so clumsy around all that fancy stuff, anyway.”

Elara gave a short laugh. “Please. You could do cartwheels around these things without leaving a smudge. But go on. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Can’t stand the way he skulks around like a ghost.”

A wry smile stayed painted on Bluebell’s face as she exited the room. He’s skulking ‘cause of me, sunshine.

When she reached the next room, she didn’t stop. The timing wouldn’t get any better than now. This was the floor she needed to be on. The humans on the crew, somewhat nice or not, wouldn’t have let her wander off again. Although they didn’t know about the incident, her penchant for vanishing hadn’t gone unnoticed.

She stayed close to the wall, winding her path toward the studio that Mr. Hart caught her in. Maybe if she apologized in person, he would have mercy on her. Maybe, just maybe, he would appreciate her bravery in speaking up.

Silly, ditzy me. Can’t help myself when I see a mirror. You know how rare a clean mirror is in the slums? Rare, Mr. Hart, very rare. I hope you don’t think that’s how I spend my afternoons here, though. I work so very hard. And I’m grateful. So very grateful.

Much like the first time she meandered into the room, it was open just a crack. The lights were off, and the curtains were drawn as she peeked her head inside. The hallway fixtures provided just enough illumination to confirm that Mr. Hart wasn’t there—and that there were several new canvases set up around the room.

Although her heart sank that she wouldn’t get her chance to apologize right then, her attention was drawn to the canvases that towered high overhead. She squinted. When she last intruded into the studio, there had been a few sketches pinned to the walls and books stuffed on shelves, but not much else to look at.

Her gaze remained fixed on the nearest canvas. She could make out a figure. One that looked like… But no, it couldn’t be. She was seeing things.

Get out. He’s not here. Go.

But she had to know.

Grunting, she pushed her entire body against the door to widen the opening. The hinges were well-oiled enough, but the weight of the wood proved to be cumbersome. She managed to widen the net of light from the hallway that fell into the room. Panting from exertion, she looked up to see the canvas—and its neighbors—properly.

She would have gasped, but her lungs refused to take air. She staggered further into the room, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

All five of the canvases—even the new sketches pinned to the walls—were her.

“Holy hell,” she breathed.

Most of her likenesses were full-body portrayals. Blue skirts, dark hair, dancing poses in motion. All kinds of expressions, too—from full-blown grins to pensive frowns.

He had been watching her.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, gaping, but she didn’t know what snapped her out of it—footsteps thudded down the hall, fast approaching.

Bluebell cursed under her breath. It was him. No one else in this house would dare walk as loudly as he did. She couldn’t bolt out the door—he’d see her. She scrambled further into the room and ducked under the table, praying and praying that he would simply pass the studio.

The door creaked open wider. The footsteps entered. The light flicked on. The door shut firmly.

She cowered against the wall, hiding among the clutter. Boxes of half-used art supplies and scraps of crumpled sketching paper created a maze around her. Clearly, Mr. Hart had not allowed anyone to clean this room in ages. Thank heavens that worked in her favor.

Polished shoes approached. She pressed herself hard against the wall, covering her mouth to keep from screaming. He settled into his chair. After a moment, she heard a harried scrape of pencil on paper.

Another sketch of her?

Bluebell stepped gently to the side, looking past the clutter to catch a glimpse of the door. There was a wastebasket there, surrounded by more wads of paper. If she could huddle behind the basket, she could flee whenever he opened the door again.

She turned her attention to his shoes and slowly, slowly crept against the floor molding. With all her attention fixed on him, she didn’t pay attention to her path. A pencil lay at her feet, and she stepped squarely upon it. A squeal burst past her lips as she dropped hard to her hands and knees.

The sketching stopped.

“Who’s in here?” His voice was vicious.

His shoes scraped against the floor as he stood, shoving the chair back. Cowering in the soft puddle of her skirts, she looked around desperately for a hiding place. Perhaps one of the boxes—but the world rattled, making it impossible to think clearly. Massive hands dug at the clutter, determined to leave her with nothing to hide behind. Clawing fingers almost blindly took her into their grasp.

She bolted, slipping expertly among the boxes, but it was no use. He shoved one of the containers so hard that it knocked into her. Pain lanced through her body as she was forced into the open—right into his glare’s path.

His hand descended and squeezed her into a tight grip. A scream wanted to come out, but she didn’t have the air to produce it. A pathetic whimper came out instead as he dragged her out from under the table. Her legs hung over empty air, her stomach churning from the sudden ascent before her captor’s eyes.

All at once, his murderous glare snapped into surprise. His grip loosened, nearly dropping her, but his other hand shot up to stop her fall. She gasped for air and bowed her head while she gathered her bearings. He said nothing, so she scrambled to fill the silence.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. Both hands were around her, leaving her entirely at his mercy. After what she had seen in the studio—from the art to the bite of his glare—her inner speech abandoned her. All she could produce was a whispered, “I work so hard. I’m very grateful. I-I…”

“I didn’t know it was you,” he said, filling the pause after she trailed off. His tone was unreadable, and she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.

She nodded shakily, wishing he would put her down. “It’s me,” she confirmed with a high little laugh. “I was just going to apologize about the other day, and I…” She chanced a look at the canvases around her, then winced.

He stood, carrying her with him effortlessly to the tabletop. He dropped her onto the surface. Her breath caught. He had, in fact, been sketching her. She could see the outline of her heart-shaped face taking form on the paper. The table was littered with blue pencils and markers. She swallowed hard and scooted back on her rear, wondering what he would do with her now that she’d seen his work.

“I-I… I should get back,” she said hoarsely. “They’ll start to wonder if I’m taking a nap somewhere.” She gave a forceful giggle. “N-not that I would ever—”

“You don’t like them?”

She blanched. He regarded her stonily.

“W-what?” she asked. “Oh. The—” She wet her lips and blinked around the studio. Something sinister crawled beneath her skin, but she forced another dainty laugh. “The me’s. I just… Sir, I just don’t understand why…” She pointed at herself and smiled cluelessly.

Don’t play dumb. You love the attention. Well, here it is.

Mr. Hart steepled his fingers imperiously, leaning the lower half of his face behind his hands. She dared to look higher and meet his gaze. She hadn’t noticed before—he looked less disheveled than usual. Hair combed back instead of messy. Clothing neat instead of rumpled. Facial hair was shaved close to his skin. Maybe he’d looked like that every time he glared at her the past weeks—she’d just been too afraid to look at him long enough to notice.

“I thought you looked compelling.” His voice sounded matter-of-fact, yet small behind his hands. Almost bashful.

A bizarre silence followed. He watched her closely, his stare digging into her face like hot knives. Was he taking the opportunity to examine her more closely for his next piece—or did he truly care about her reaction to his work?

As if that reaction could be anything less than undying appreciation and awe. He had her cornered. If she displeased him… Disappearances weren’t uncommon. Her crew and neighbors might mourn her for a few days—their charming little mascot lost.

Only Aster would really care—but she was more or less dead to him already.

Still, self-preservation took hold.

She fixed her expression into a bashful smile as she cowered before him. She batted her eyes coquettishly. Little old me?

“I’m… so very touched, sir,” she said.

For the first time since she’d ever laid eyes on him, Mr. Hart looked pleased.

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bryan360 · 1 month

Text

No “On This Day” posting I’ll be focusing today.

Also….

‼️(NO COPYING OR PLAGIARIZING FROM ME AND ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIEND’S WORK! THAT INCLUDES OUR CHARACTERS, DESIGNS, STUFF, ETC. IMPOSTERS AND SEXBOTS ARE NOT WELCOME TO FOLLOW MY BLOG WHATSOEVER! 😡 That will be all….I mean it.)‼️

2024 Review - Seagate 2TB Portable Drive (Third/Final - Storing game(s))

It’s been a long time coming; not to mention through scheduling at the program all weekdays I’d been in. Nevertheless, I’m finally coming back to this topic for the final time. After that the second half of installing with my gaming console is done, I’m now be storing/moving one of my games from its internal storage; which I’d already got it at early January this year.

⬆️ (From January. 6th, 2024; 3:04 to 6:24 P.M)

The first one is I’d finally gotten to installed Forza Horizon 5; the same game from last year’s Christmas gift for my Xbox One system. You can thank our friend @carmenramcat of ever giving me for Christmas by surprise. Link Here

I haven’t boosted this racing game yet; not until after getting my own potable hard drive in early January 2024. There are plenty of games in it as well, but that’s gonna wait after the final part of this topic review.

So anyways, I’d managed to move this to my portable hard drive which had lot of storage needed. Just how long it will take after installing? Well from checking in actual time (via screenshots information) about 3:04 to 6:24 P.M., it’s 3 hours, 20 minutes, and 33 seconds when calculated by using calculator.net website. Wow. Sure it would make sense due to how big this racing game will be, but taking three hours or less was a bit long. Still, nothing bad happens once it’s done for my portable drive. At least I’m grateful that I’d finally got this game downloaded after months later. The transfer progress should’ve speed things up though. That being said, I can’t wait to dive in unless for further planning to share soon. Or if I haven’t gotten through FH3 progress as of yet. I’d appreciate for having my portable drive with me that I’m willing to transfer other games more. 👍

Update: So I haven’t downloaded just one FH5 updated patch just yet. Not until back in Sunday this week that I got it as well. Now it took me about from 1:52 to 2:23 P.M.; or 31 minutes and 5 seconds shorter. Not bad that didn’t take this long. I won’t be surprised that there will more updated patches for FH5 to check out, just in case.

(Back in March. 24th, 2024) (just after transferring other games that I’d save since February 3rd, 2024)

Now to get into with my other games I’ve previously transfer for my portable hard drive. During the same date of January 6th, I did the second time with 👊💥MultiVersus; a free to play fighting platform made by Player First Games. It took about few minutes than I did with my Forza Horizon 5 game within three hours or less. And then afterwards til February 3rd at 6:20 to 6:53 P.M., I got with two previous Forza Horizon titles, Rare Replay included two Banjo-Kazooie titles, Cuphead, Kingdom Hearts 3, and PAC-MAN Museum+. Talk about plenty of some along the way. Thought looks like it takes minutes for almost all games included this time. That’s good to see that it happened, right?

So anyways as I’d going back to its storage devices setting, my portable drive is about 16.1% within 1.5 TB free spaces. It’s not full enough as of yet. Though who knows if there’s plenty room to pick which I’m going for sooner or later. Other than that, I also pointed out for its internal storage had few games in it. It’ll be for another time to save, I promise.

My Experience/Overall Thoughts: ⬇️

Storing/transferring FH5 (Forza Horizon 5) (plus other games) with my external hard drive was an interesting progress to get through. It depends how many games to transferring within minutes/hours before completion. All in all, I couldn’t done it without my first portable drive that I’d wanted for my gaming console. It won’t be a matter of time before I can get a new one in the near future, but not right now. I’m happy of having a portable drive I’ll be taking care of. 🙂 If you’re curious or interested to get one of those, then it’s available on Amazon.com. It normally cost about $70, so hopefully that you still have your savings left. Link Here

See ya guys until my upcoming topics are coming soon. 👋

Tagged: @murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 @paektu

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panjakes · 1 year

Note

I’m going through my sunghoon appreciation moment right now and i need him, his cuddles his everything, he has the cutest smile, like imagine being the one to make him smile 🥹🥺😊 !! :]

anyways sorry for my rant but can you do, sunghoon x reader, where no one has ever made sunghoon smile, not even his family, but when a new transfer come along, and she hears about sunghoon not showing any sign of happiness, she makes it her top mission to make him feel loved, even if that means she has to take down the people in her way just to do so.

it’s kinda weird but let me explain, reader has a sweet face, so voice and she is honestly the nicest person, so no one expects her when suddenly people starting getting murdered one by one, but the thing is the only people that are getting murdered are the people who have harmed sunghoon, you may be thinking how did she who harmed sunghoon? well just a few months before she transferred she kept tabs on sunghoon, she knew what he ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, what time he woke up and what time he feel asleep, etc. it’s giving stalker, i know, but hear me out, i feel like this will be a great story, you can end it however you’d like, but i hope you enjoy writing it ! :]

p.s. sorry for the long request, i tried to explain it the best that i could but i suck at explaining things so i hope you understood this !! thanks you 4 writing !!

I hope you like it!!

Also trigger warning talks of death and blood

“He’s been here a whole week and I haven’t seen him smile once.” Marie says watching sunghoon from his locker

“Yeah, he just sits there. I haven’t even heard him laugh” Luna says

“I bet Yn can make him laugh” Maria says smirking in Yn’s direction

“Better yet, I can make him smile” she says smirking

“Really?” Luna asks raising a brow

“Yup. Give me month” Yn says

“Alright then. A month is all you get” Maria says

“A month is all I need” the girl says walking away from her friends and over to sunghoon

“Hi! Sunghoon! How’s your day?” She asks with her hands behind her back

“Hey Yn, It’s good” he says closing his locker

“Do you want to be my partner in Mrs.Park class?” Yn asks with a big smile

Sunghoon had to admit. The dark skin girl was pretty with her freshly done knotless braids flipped to the side

“Yeah sure.” He says shrugging

“I’m Yn,by the way” she says making sunghoon chuckle without a smile

“I know, we sit next to each other It parks class” he says making the girl go wide eye in embarrassment

“Oh yeah right. Sorry” she says slapping her forehead

“It’s cool. It just crossed your mind” he says patting her shoulder

Yn looks up at him smiling

“Okay! Wanna talk about the project over lunch?“ Yn asks

“Sure why not?” Sunghoon says following behind the girl

“So how was your day hoon?” Sunghoons dad asks

“It was okay. I guess…I made a friend” sunghoon shrugs

“Is he a cool guy?” He asks

“She’s pretty cool. Pretty too” he says making his dad go wide eye

“Oh! A lady friend” he says smirking

“Not like that.” Sunghoon says flatly before leaving the room

“Okay?” Sunghoons dad says shrugging

“Honey, have you seen the news?” Sunghoons mother says coming down the stairs

“No what’s wrong?” He asks

“Remember that boy who use to tease sunghoon?” She asks causing her husband to nod

“He passed! I saw it on Facebook” she says making her husband frown

“Passed? How?” He asks

“I don’t know, it’s all over social media!” She says making the man sigh

“Thats his Karma for messing with my son”he says causing sunghoons mother to gasp

“Honey!!!”

“I’m just saying!”

“Something bothering you hoon?” Yn asks gluing the cut out pieces onto the post board

“Yeah” he says

“What is it? You can talk to me if you like” she says

“The guy who use tease me passed away” he says looking over at the girl

“Aw, sorry to hear that. Are you feeling bad about it?” She asks

“Not at all. I’m kind of glad. He deserved it” sunghoon says

“Nothing wrong with feeling that way” Yn says smiling

Sunghoon looks her over once before nodding

“Your pretty Yn, I like you” Sunghoon says making Yn smile

“Thank you, I like you too” she says patting his shoulder and turning her attention back to the bored

Sunghoon obviously meant as a friend. Yn did pick up on it but she’ll drag it just a tad bit longer. After all she’s came way to far not too.

“Got him to smile yet?”

“Of course. I got him to smile and I got him to be my boyfriend” Yn says smirking

“Girl bye. Your lying!” Marie says

“Right! He so disinterested in everything” Luna says

“Maybe so, but he isn’t disinterested in me” Yn says smirking

“Please Yn, a guy like sunghoon isn’t interested in dating. Plus I heard he’s a like a curse or something” Luna says

“Curse? What curse?” Marie asks

“Literally for the past month every person who ever messed with him has suddenly dropped dead. He’s cursed” Luna says

“He’s not cursed! Stop talking about him” Yn says

“He’s not your boyfriend you can stop defending him” Luna says

Before Yn could say anything else Sunghoon walked up behind her putting his hands on her shoulders

“Hey Hoon” Yn says turning around with a smile

“Hey babe, how was class?” He asks leaning down to kiss her lips shocking both of her friends

She was telling the truth! They were together

“It was good, are you going to sit with us?” Yn asks

“No, I’m going to the Library I’ll see you later okay” he says patting her shoulder

“Okay see you later” Yn says watching the boy walk out the lunchroom

Yn sighs turning around to face his friends

“I love him so much” Yn says not stop the big grin

“Love? How long have you been dating?” Marie asks

“It’s only been about two weeks” Yn says shrugging

“Two weeks?! And you love him already? Don’t you think your moving to fast?” Luna asks

“Absolutely not! I just fall in love quicker than others” Yn says shrugging

“Yeah but in two weeks though?” Marie asks

“Are you guys jealous or something?” Yn asks making the two scoff

“As if! Yn your being weird. Your not acting like yourself” Marie says

“Tuh. Whatever” Yn says getting up to find sunghoon.

After walking into the library, Yn finally finds sunghoon in the corner alone. He looks up seeing his girlfriend visibly upset

“What’s wrong Yn?” He asks

She throws her bag down before plopping down in the seat next to him

“I love you sunghoon” she says flatly

“Okay” he says confusedly

“My friends think I’m being weird about our relationship” she says pouting

Sunghoon rolls his eyes before picking his pencil back up

“Well fuck them, all you need is me” sunghoon says causing the girl to pause

“Really?” She says smiling

“Yeah, come here” he says opening his arm but never stopping his writing

Yn giddily goes into his wrapping both her arms around the male instantly melting in his embrace

“We don’t need friends when we have each other” he says squeezing her shoulder just a little bit

“I love you too Yn” he whisper before placing a kiss on her forehead

Yn felt like she was in heaven. It felt so good to be in sunghoons arms

Sunghoon went outside the store checking his phone seeing several missed calls from Yn. He instantly goes to call her back getting worried that she called so many times.

The phone goes the voicemail and sunghoon calls back again just to not get an answer. He calls one more time sigh when the phone keeps ringing

Just as he was about to hang up he heard another phone ringing. He follows the sound of the ringing to the back of the store. As he got closer he headed small grunts.

He turns his head watching as a figure stands up from something. He presses the call button again causing the phone to ring again.

The person picks the phone up sighing

“Hi love”

“Yn?” Sunghoon asks causing the person to turn around. It was Yn.

Her face and clothes were dotted in blood. Her long braids were dangling in her face. Her face held a crazed look. In her hand was a bloody knife which she dropped when she seen sunghoon.

“Y-Yn?” He whispers stepping closer to the body

“Sunghoon I-I” Yn says now shaking

“Yn what did you do?” He asks

“I-I had too. H-he was rude to you!” Yn says tears now coming out her eyes

Sunghoon peeked at the body and all the blood that was everywhere

“You killed the others, didn’t you?” Sunghoon asks

“Y-yes. They hurt you hoon I had too!” She says sobbing

This girl was crazy. She was crazy for him. He liked it

“Shhh okay, Yn” he says slowly itching forward taking the bloody knife from her hands and she cried and shakes

“I-I’m sorry hoon, please don’t leave me. I love you” she says. Sunghoon shushes her again dropping the knife into his bag

He takes her shirt sleeve whipping the blood from her face.

“It’s okay baby. Calm down” he whispers to the girl

He takes his jacket off putting on her and zipping it up to cover her bloody clothes.

“Wh-what’re you doing?” Yn asks only to get shushed again

“What your going to do is walk back to my house with me. Your going to shower and go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning” he says kissing her forehead then her lips

“R-really” the girl asks

“Yes. Come on love” he says leading the girl in the opposite direction of where she had killed her most recent victim.

Sunghoon stared down at the girl who slept peacefully in his bed. He some how wasn’t scared, nor was he disgusted. He some what felt special

Nobody ever made the effort to go out their way to get rid of the people who made his life hell at one point. It made him feel special, important even.

“Sunghoon?”

He gets knocked out his thoughts by Yn’s voice. He looked down at her. Her eyes were filled with tears. She looked so innocent and they both know it was far from the truth.

“Yes love” he says placing his hand on her cheek

“D-do you still love me?” She asks making him smile

“Of course, anybody who’s willing to kill for me is worthy of my love” he says using his thumb to caress her cubby brown cheeks

“Really?” She asks with a small smile

“Really, I appreciate you doing those things for me” he says returning the small smile

It was wrong, sunghoon knew that. But he didn’t care. He liked it. He liked every single bit of it.

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black girls are beautiful #black reader insert #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #enhypen x black reader

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pickalilywrites · 13 days

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Lily, would you write some pokopiku? 🥹

anon, i will always write some pkpk!

breaking free

pokopiku. high school musical au. 3984 words.

Soaring, flying

There’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach

Porco can only recall those two lines, but the rest of the muddled melody plays in his mind for days on end. Sometimes he doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or if it’s just Pieck humming it beside him. When he’s lost in a daze, that song playing in the background of his mind, he’ll startle from his daydream and turn expecting to see her by his side only to realize that it was all in his head the entire time.

He doesn’t hate music. In fact, he actually kind of likes it. He might not go out of his way to attend concerts or buy musical tickets. Hell, he hasn’t even paid attention to any of the low-budget productions that his school puts on every semester until recently. He just likes to strum the lonely guitar sitting in his living room every once in a while, and he admittedly doesn’t mind hearing Pieck humming beside him when they should be focusing on their chemistry experiment. It’s just that he has other things he should be thinking about: how to improve his free throws, the upcoming basketball game with Shiganshina High, and the basketball championship that his team is set on winning. He has no time for songs or dances no matter how many fliers Pieck shoves under his nose.

He finds it curious that she’s even interested in the school’s upcoming musical, although she’s never been normal in the first place. She had transferred here a month into the new school year. The teachers adored her for her intelligence and her willingness to participate in class. Her academic credentials were undoubtedly impressive: a straight A student with a dozen math and science championship titles under her belt. She would, of course, be representing Liberio High in the International Math Olympiad with all the other math whizzes in their school. She fit quite neatly into her niche of smart, intellectual students destined to graduate one year early and attend an Ivy League just as Porco fit neatly into his own niche of big, burly athletes that were aiming to attend a top-rated sports university on an athletic scholarship.

Porco is putting his books away in his locker when someone slams it shut, making him jump.

“Jesus, Pieck!” he yelps. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest. “What the fuck? You could have slammed my fingers in there.”

“Oh, please. I wouldn’t have done that to the school’s basketball star shooting guard,” Pieck says with a crooked smile. She leans against his locker, her head resting against the cool metal door. “I made sure your precious fingers were out of the way before I closed the locker door.”

“I’m the point guard,” Porco says even though he’s had to correct Pieck on his position on the basketball team multiple times at this point. He has a feeling she purposely gets it wrong just to annoy him. He can feel the tips of his ears begin to sting, although he doesn’t quite know why. “What do you want anyway? You don’t have to keep reminding me to write my lab report. They’re individual anyway.”

“Aw, you’re so grown up now,” Pieck coos, and Porco wants to cover his ears before they turn completely red but he resists the urge and keeps his hands at his side. “No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I just wanted to tell you that I signed you up for the upcoming school musical. The auditions are tomorrow.”

Porco straightens up in alarm. He would think this were a joke, but he wouldn’t put it past Pieck to scrawl his name down on the audition list for real. She had been talking about it for the past few weeks when auditions were first announced, but he didn’t think she would actually do it. She had math competitions to study for and he had his basketball games. With all the time they put in their current extracurriculars, he didn’t know how they would even have the time to prepare for a musical on the slim chance they managed to pass auditions.

“You’re joking, right?” he asks, but he feels as if he already knows the answer to that question when he sees the way Pieck’s smile never breaks. He runs a hand through his hair and curses when he sees the grease that covers his fingers from his hair gel. He glares at Pieck as if this is her fault, but she doesn’t seem deterred. “Pieck, I’m not a musical guy. It’s fine if you want to juggle all of these different things — math whiz, science nerd, theater geek — but I have my hands full as it is being -”

“- a jock?” Pieck finishes for him, eye brow raised. She rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her lips. For some reason, Porco is beginning to feel ashamed. Pieck pushes herself off Porco’s locker. Her smile is a little less relaxed now, stretched into a thin, tight line. “Come on, Porco. You can’t seriously subscribe to the strict status quo that all your classmates do. It’s all made up by teenagers, for God’s sake. You must want more in life than being shoved into a shoebox labeled ‘high school basketball star.’”

“Well, maybe I like being a high school basketball star. Maybe you’re dissatisfied with being good at one thing, but I’m perfectly happy with it,” Porco snaps. He hikes the strap of his backpack up his shoulder and looks down at Pieck, but the frown that has replaced her smile doesn’t make him feel very good about defending himself.

Pieck purses her lips and looks as if she’s about to turn away, but she opens her mouth instead. “You know, I signed you up because I thought it would be fun, and also because I thought you would be good at it.” She looks down at the tiles on the hallway floor, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. "I hear you singing sometimes, and I think it’s amazing. You probably don’t even realize it, but you were singing just a few minutes earlier. It was under your breath, but I heard you.”

Porco’s cheeks begin to flush and he wants to deny it, but he knows that what Pieck says is true. He’s been singing the song for the audition piece because it plays in his head on repeat. He wants to snap at Pieck again and blame her for getting the song stuck in his head in the first place, but he knows that there isn’t any point. She isn’t saying anything hurtful, just pointing something out what he’s been trying to ignore for years: he enjoys music. If it wasn’t the song for the musical, it would be some other song that he’d be singing under his breath. Even if he’d never admit it out loud, he has thought about what it would feel like to be standing underneath a spotlight on a stage instead of a basketball court.

“It’s okay if you just want to play basketball, but … I don’t think it’s bad to like other things either,” Pieck says. She raises her brown eyes to meet his hazel ones. One hand reaches out, and Pieck’s fingertips graze Porco’s arm. “We’re too young to be playing personas that other people have written for us. We should be figuring out who we are on our own terms without minding what other people might think of us.”

Pieck squeezes his arm and Porco watches as she leaves. A few people glance in Pieck’s direction. She’s been a spectacle at their school ever since she had transferred here, and people weren’t used to seeing someone who was on the math team speak with a member of the basketball team. Now that Porco thinks about it, he doesn’t know why that would be enough reason for people to stop and stare. People should be allowed to associate with whoever they like regardless of what clubs they’re in or sports they play. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he still feels embarrassed anyway and pulls up the collar of his bomber jacket and skulks away as if he’s done something shameful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Are you auditioning for the musical or something?”

Porco has never particularly liked Reiner Braun, but the power forward’s voice is especially grating today. After his conversation with Pieck earlier this morning, Porco finds he’s especially irritable, but he doesn’t want to take it out on anyone recklessly so he grits his teeth and asks, “What are you talking about?”

A panic seizes his chest and he can feel his heart rate pick up. Paranoia begins to pick away at Porco, whispering in his ear. Reiner Braun must have seen you talking with Pieck. He must know that you’ve been thinking about what Pieck had said. He must have seen your name on the audition list. Porco doesn’t know why the thought of Reiner knowing about his conversation with Pieck bothers him so much, but he tries to play it nonchalant despite the clamminess in his hands. He shoots a ball at the hoop in front of him and misses terribly.

Reiner, always happy to see Porco failing, grins when he sees Porco’s missed shot. He turns back to Porco, a knowing smile on his face. “Come on, everyone’s heard you singing the audition song in the locker room. Even if you’re singing it under your breath, we can all hear you. You’re not seriously thinking of auditioning, are you?”

Last year, Porco would have scoffed and told Reiner he was stupid for even entertaining the thought. A basketball player didn’t have any place in the school musical. People at this school adhere so much to their little stereotyped boxes that Porco never would have considered auditioning for the school musical until Pieck had waltzed in and started singing that damn song. Now is his chance to deny it, but he doesn’t want to. All he can think about instead is how annoying it is to have Reiner’s judgmental sneer in his face and how there isn’t any harm in just auditioning for a dumb school play.

“I don’t really see how that’s any of your business,” Porco finds himself saying instead and Reiner steps back, startled at his teammate’s answer.

“Well, it kind of is my business. It’s everyone’s business. You can’t be making these types of decisions by yourself,” Reiner begins, and already Porco finds his temper rising. Reiner continues, not noticing the way Porco’s grip on the basketball tighten. “You’re part of a basketball team, and a pretty important part of the team, and it’s everyone’s job to get to the championship. If you’re taking time to sing and dance on stage for a stupid school play, you might cost us first place. We haven’t lost first place in years. The whole school is counting on us.”

“I didn’t ask for this responsibility!” Porco snaps. Why should an entire championship hinge on the shoulders of a teenage boy? Why shouldn’t he be able to do a silly little play even if his talents might lie elsewhere? Why can’t he just do things he enjoys without everyone having a say in what he should and shouldn’t do?

Reiner’s smile falters and his brow furrows. “You’ve been awfully strange lately. Basketball used to be the only thing you cared about. The rest of the team has been concerned, too. ” The corner of Reiner’s lip twitches in a knowing smile. “I know you’ve been getting closer to Pieck, but I don’t think you should hang out with her anymore. You only started acting weird after meeting her.”

Porco’s patience was already wearing thin. At the mention of Pieck’s name — with the implication that Pieck was the reason for his declining performance in basketball practice — his patience snaps entirely, but rather than throwing a fist or hurling insults at his teammate, Porco simply asks Reiner, “Why are you dating Historia?”

Reiner’s smile falters once more, caught off guard by Porco’s question. “Why are you asking -”

“Why do you like Historia?” Porco interrupts.

Reiner’s brow furrows and he shrinks down, his shoulders hunching over. It’s a stark contrast to the way he typically holds himself: confident, brash, bold. Now, he seems uncertain as he fumbles for an answer. “She’s the head cheerleader. Why wouldn’t I like her?” Reiner replies, but his smile is too shaky for his response to be one hundred percent truthful.

“So if she weren’t the head cheerleader, you wouldn’t even give her a second glance?” Porco asks.

“Why are you asking me this?” Reiner asks. His cheeks are turning red as he becomes more and more flustered. He pulls at the collar of his jersey, fanning himself, and turns his face away from Porco. “Look, I like Historia. Doesn’t it just make sense that we’d be together? I’m the power forward on the basketball team. She’s the head cheerleader. We complement each other.”

“Do you, though?” Porco steps forward, challenging Reiner. Reiner had outgrown him years ago, gaining several inches in height as everyone was going through their growth spurts. Porco could never keep up with him in height, but now he feels like he’s like he’s the one towering over Reiner as the power forward continues to shrink down with doubt. “Forget about whatever cliques or extracurricular groups we’re in for a second. Do you like her? Do you like being with her? What do you two even talk about?”

Porco feels like he knows the answers to all those questions, and he asks them anyway. Two months ago, Reiner and Historia had never even spoken a word to each other. It was only when Pieck had transferred here that they began talking. When Pieck was about to be seated in the back, Reiner raised his hand and volunteered to give up his seat in the second row for her so that Pieck would be able to see better. He sat next to Historia and, although the cheerleader seemed disinterested at first, the two eventually went out, but Porco always felt strange about their relationship. They didn’t seem affectionate except for the occasional chaste kiss on the cheek at basketball games. When they hung out at parties, Historia was always tapping away at her phone. Reiner talked to his friends on the basketball court than he talked to Historia. They are the biggest couple on campus, but they don’t seem to like each other very much.

Reiner must know that, too, because his face begins to contort in confusion and then in anger. “What’s your fucking problem, Galliard?”

“What’s your problem?” Porco asks. “What makes you think you have the right to criticize my relationship with Pieck when your relationship with Historia seems so vapid in comparison? Woohoo, hot basketball star with the head cheerleader, but you guys don’t even talk to each other unless people are watching you. You have a deeper relationship with Bertholdt than Historia.”

Something about what Porco says angers Reiner even more. In his anger, Reiner grabs the basketball from Porco only to throw it angrily back at him. He throws it with such force that Porco has to stumble backward when he catches it. The basketball feels like a punch to the gut.

“Fuck you,” Reiner snarls, and he turns and stalks off but not in time to hide the slight trembling of his voice.

Porco can feel his blood pumping, thrumming in his ears. He grips the basketball tightly between his hands and turns towards the hoop. He’s standing at the free throw line, but the hoop somehow feels further than it normally is. He prepares himself to take a shot, bending down slightly to aim. He flings the ball forward and misses entirely. It isn’t even close.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

For all his brave words to Reiner and challenging who they should and shouldn’t be associating with, Porco doesn’t make any further moves to rock the boat. He wants to avoid the curious glances from his classmates and judgmental stares from his peers. He keeps his lips pressed tightly together. He doesn’t even dare to hum the song under his breath for fear of being overheard. He doesn’t want anyone — any innocent classmates passing by, Pieck, or even himself — to get the wrong idea.

Still, he finds the flyer being slipped over his desk every day leading up to the audition. Pieck doesn’t say much when she sends the flyer in his direction. She slips it to him wordlessly every morning before their chemistry lecture starts and then ignores him for the rest of the class unless they have to discuss the reading together or work on an experiment. She’s not her usual bubbly self even when he’s kinder to her than usual, asking her mundane questions about her day or classes that he normally wouldn’t. He’s grateful for her curt answers no matter how short because at least that means he gets to hear his voice. He wonders if he should apologize, but he doesn’t know what for exactly. He’s never really been the best at apologies in the first place.

At the end of each chemistry class, she taps again at the flyer. She raises her eyes towards his face but never quite meets his eyes. Quietly, she always says, “The audition is soon. It would be good if you could make it.”

He always makes up the same excuse. His words always ring hollow in his ears. He wonders if Pieck hears it, too, the hesitancy in his voice when he says he can’t audition because he doesn’t know the words and he doesn’t have the time to rehearse because he has basketball practice. The truth is that he knows every single line, he’s memorized it and hears her sing every word in his head every second of every day. He knows the song by heart and he can envision himself singing it alongside her, his voice harmonizing with hers as they stand underneath the spotlight. Even thinking about it is thrilling. It makes his heart beat faster than any basketball game ever did, but it’s not something he’s willing to ever admit so he ignores the pounding in his chest and tells Pieck there’s no way he could ever audition. He isn’t meant for it. She should go audition for it if it’s something she really wants to do, but she shouldn’t count on him to show up.

“I think you’d do great,” Pieck says on the day of the audition. Her finger is pointed towards the flyer once more, tapping on the date which is circled in red pen in case Porco misses it. She finally meets his gaze today, and she looks almost hopeful even though he’s tried to crush any hopes she had every other day.

“I have practice,” Porco mumbles, and he doesn’t even take the flyer this time. He leaves it on his desk and grabs his backpack instead, hustling out of the room as fast as he can so he can avoid Pieck’s disappointed gaze.

He hurries off to practice, but it feels like he’s running away from something. Even once he’s changed into his jersey and running on the court with his teammates, he can’t stop thinking of how he had left Pieck standing alone at their desk. He had never promised her anything, and yet it feels as if he’s abandoned her. His mind is filled with her — her lonely silhouette standing underneath the bright stage lights, her disappointed expression every time he turned her down, her voice echoing across the empty auditorium. He doesn’t hear the voice of his coach yelling at him or his teammates shouting at him when they tell him to pass the ball. All he can hear is that song again, the song that he would have sang if he went to the audition.

“What’s wrong with you?” his coach shouts before pulling him out of practice to sit on the bench.

Porco wishes he could answer, but it’s too complex to give a straight answer so he sits on the cold, metal bench and stares at his shoes. Every so often, he glances at the clock on the wall and grows more anxious with every minute that passes. It’s almost four o’clock. That’s when the auditions are meant to conclude. Had Pieck already gone? Had she auditioned by herself, singing that song that was meant to be a duet? Had she gone on without him, doing something he was too afraid to do himself?

He tastes blood on his tongue and jerks his head back in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed he had started chewing on his thumb nail. He bit too close to the quick and now his thumb is bleeding. He staunches the blood by pressing it against the hem of his shorts, but the material does little to stop the bleeding. He curses and looks back up at the clock. How can move so agonizingly slow and so fast at the same time?

Without warning, he stands up and begins to run toward the gym entrance.

“Galliard!” the coach shouts. “Where the fuck are you going?”

Where I should have been all along, Porco thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud. He has more important things to do.

He stumbles through the back of the auditorium and he can see other people who have just finished auditioning looking at him quizzically. They’re people he can’t recognize, part of the theater geek circle that he doesn’t associate with. They’re probably wondering why he’s there at all, and Porco would wonder the same thing if he couldn’t hear Pieck’s voice ringing through the theater.

He creeps through the backstage towards the sound of Pieck’s voice, clear as crystal as she sings half a duet. It sounds empty without the other person singing the other half, but she keeps her voice steady as she sings, undeterred that she’s singing alone.

Porco finally reaches the curtain and pushes it back slightly to catch a glimpse of Pieck. Her back is turned towards him and she faces the drama instructor, her voice never wavering even under the director’s stern gaze. She only has the piano to accompany her, but she sings confidently. Her voice fills the entire theater and Porco can hear it, the missing half of the song. He doesn’t realize that he’s singing along with her, that it’s not his imagination that’s filling in the gap but his own voice, until Pieck turns toward him.

She doesn’t look angry at him or even surprised. Her lips turn upward as she sings and she gestures for him to step forward, to join her onstage, and he takes her invitation, never missing a beat even when he feels the heat of the spotlight on his skin.

“We’re soaring, flying,” Porco sings, his voice mingling with Pieck’s. He thought his legs would shake as soon as he stepped on stage, but he feels at ease by her side. “There’s not a star in heaven we can’t reach.”

His eyes meet Pieck’s and he can feel his own lips stretch into a smile even as he sings. He’s not sure if he’s meant to be on stage. He doesn’t know if he’ll even make it past this audition, but he knows that this feels thrilling, like he’s broken chains that he didn’t know were shackled to him. He feels like he’s finally free.

#snk #pokkopiku #pokopiku #porco galliard #pieck finger #high school musical au #hsm au #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #requests

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