#i owe a lot to you bff

[jessamine-rose]

‧͙☽˚⋆⁺*˚꒰ Moonrise ꒱˚*⁺⋆˚☾‧͙

Surprise, surprise, the epilogue for The Spider and the Fly was finished early!! To everyone who loved Yandere! Miguel x Variant! Darling’s story, pls enjoy this short continuation which takes place after the events of ATSV (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, self-deprecation, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of nsfw, babytrapping

Note:: Female reader, ATSV spoilers, LYLA and Darling definitely have BFF keychains

♡ 1.6k words under the cut ♡

“He did what?”

“You heard me correctly.” LYLA flickers in front of you, her expression serious. “He escaped to another dimension. So now Miguel is looking for Miles in Earth-1610 while everyone else is scattered across the multiverse.”

“I see…” Your gaze drifts to the empty side of the bed. You can’t help but feel both worried for your lover and impressed by Miles Morales.

“But here’s the good news: Your desk wasn’t damaged when they chased him around HQ! Though you’ll be very busy once you get back to work. There will be a lot of multiverse jumps in the next two days, not to mention damage control.”

Never mind, Miles must be stopped as soon as possible.

The mere thought of all those incoming reports is enough to stress you out. What more for Miguel with the fate of the multiverse?

“And of all days, this has to happen while I’m on sick leave.”

As if on cue, you are interrupted by another coughing fit.

“Do you feel worse?” LYLA quickly does a medical scan, but your results are only slightly better than yesterday’s. “You should get more rest.”

You drink more water, shooting her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the update.”

In the dim bedroom, Miguel’s AI assistant is the brightest source of light. The Nueva York skyline appears gloomy, owing to the heavy rain. Is the weather similar in Earth-1610?

“Is Miguel going to be okay? It sounds like he’s already been through a lot.”

“You know how he is. He won’t go down without a fight.”

She’s right. And based on the records of Miguel’s previous missions, Miles and The Spot will be dead once he catches them. It will be difficult to watch.

There is a moment’s hesitation before LYLA continues speaking.

“He left a message for you: ‘Get well soon. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone.’”

Now that puts a smile on your face. “Of course. Tell him I understand.”

Two days, less supervision. A stronger ______ would definitely plan an escape attempt while Miguel is distracted, notwithstanding the tracking devices and LYLA’s surveillance. But such an opportunity is wasted on you.

If anything, you already miss him.

…Though it is nice to imagine a break from Miguel. There are only so many warnings, so many hours of his sole company, so many ruined sheets and scarlet restraints before your apprehension resurfaces. His love is as intense as it is twisted.

Regardless, the previous months have been the happiest days of your life. Not even the increase in Anomalies could get between the two of you. There is a certain bond to be found in stressing over the same reports and drinking gallons of coffee together and getting jointly reprimanded by LYLA for “overworking yourselves, amongst other forms of self-neglect.”

Your status in the Spider Society has also changed thanks to the public knowledge of your relationship, sans the dark details. It hasn’t really bothered you, apart from the friendly jokes and knowing looks you get before your regular visits to Miguel’s laboratory.

Thinking about it now, Gwen Stacy has also asked for your help in convincing Miguel to let her visit Miles. Hopefully, she is doing well in her home dimension.

Then again, she is much stronger than you. She can handle this.

A holographic screen pops up. Reading it, you follow the scheduled reminder and take your medications. At least your cold has subsided.

LYLA watches you. “You’ll make a full recovery in no time. I’ll inform Miguel.”

“That’s good to know. Can you please relay another message to him?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“‘Good luck. I’m counting on you.’” You finish your cough syrup and close the screen. “‘And please take care of yourself.’”

Even today, he made time for you. A spoon-fed breakfast. A hands-on medical examination. Caldo de pollo and other healthy pre-cooked meals. Brief video calls. A text message explaining that he would come home late due to The Spot, now unsent.

“At least it means I can delay the news.”

LYLA gives you an inquisitive look. “What news?”

You open the bedside drawer and take out a used pregnancy test.

She gasps. “Are you…?! But your medical scan—”

One line.

“Oh.” She double-checks the device for confirmation. “Another negative, huh?”

“Yeah.” After returning it to the drawer, you lie down and wrap yourself in more blankets. “Can you keep it a secret this time? I want to tell him myself.”

“Sure.” She looks at you with renewed concern. “Hey, you okay? It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

Still, you’ve grown tired of seeing the same result or more precisely, Miguel’s reactions. How many more times can you watch his gaze shift from hopeful to disappointed? By now, you’re already taking fertility drugs and discussing adoption—not that there’s anything inferior about the latter, but your Variants were able to conceive their child. Why can’t you?

Just last week, you noticed a medical article amongst his holographic screens. Miguel had highlighted a paragraph about the connection between stress and fertility. You don’t know if the research was for you or him; but either way, nothing can be done about that.

Worst of all is the relief you feel every time you see that single line. It feels like a secret betrayal, the final shred of your sanity in collaboration with your reproductive system.

“How did she do it?”

“What?” LYLA gives you a confused look.

You lie on your side, facing her. “My Variant. I mean, she was obviously healthier and also in favor of having kids, but…how did she manage? Wasn’t she ever scared of making a mistake with Gabriella? Is it even possible for us to raise a family as happy as theirs?”

“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” She gives you a kind smile, the perfect simulation of sympathy. “It’ll be Miguel’s first time, too, you know. Your pregnancy, your baby, and everything else will be just as new to him. And you can always count on Jess or Peter B for advice.”

“He did say that I’ve warmed up to Mayday…though she still prefers Miguel.”

“Nah, that’s only cuz he lets her treat him like a playground.”

Sitting up, you look around the room. It has undergone a few redecorations since you’ve moved in, under Miguel’s permission and LYLA’s encouragement. Everywhere you look, your personal items are mixed with Miguel’s.

The desk holds a jewelry box, one of your first belongings in Nueva York. The bottom drawer holds an assortment of rings, most of which were purchased on your last shopping date.

It wasn’t anything romantic. For someone who can read several reports and statistics at the same time, Miguel looked almost overwhelmed by the variety of clothes and accessories which caught your attention. LYLA’s opinion was more helpful and fashion-literate.

…He did call you pretty in the fitting room. The comment was totally unprompted for a dress which looked no different from your usual outfits. Up until that point, you had been observing your reflections with a mix of critical looks and pleased smiles.

After blushing, you quickly brushed it off as a matter of preference—LYLA did say that he likes your personal style more than your Variant’s. It’s more suitable for Nueva York.

Never mind that his gaze was on your face, not the dress.

…

Maybe one day, a special ring will be added to the jewelry box. Hand-picked by Miguel, made of any material except pearl, a perfect fit for your ring finger. It will be deserving of a place in the hidden compartment, where you keep your collection of pretty red spiderwebs.

When you receive it, it will be a special moment exclusive to you and your Miguel O’Hara—the versions of you who met on a moonlit night in the shadows of New York City.

Whatever happens, he still loves you. You, despite your flaws and every trait which sets you apart from his Variant’s wife. That is a promise you can believe in.

The room is too cold, so you adjust the air conditioner and take out another blanket. It won’t be as warm in Miguel’s absence.

You should get more rest. The sooner you recover, the sooner you can get back to work and give him one less thing to worry about.

After his mission, you’ll welcome him home as always. He will reciprocate your kisses, call you by your special nickname, and appreciate the food you prepared—his favorites, to celebrate another saved universe. If he looks tired or stressed, you will be the one to comfort him.

…Then you will show him the pregnancy test.

The hope will appear and vanish from his gaze. There will be reassurances directed at both you and himself. Miguel will give you a hug and soft kisses, which became part of the routine after the second test. After that, he will move on to a new topic or suggest a movie night.

Then during your next ovulation, you will be confined for a different reason. You will have to deal with Miguel’s company, his passionate touches, his lovesick declarations, his desperation for your own version of domestic bliss. A small, pathetic part of you has begun to look forward to it.

If he defeats The Spot and Miles Morales.

“Hey, LYLA?” you whisper.

She moves closer to your face. “Yeah?”

“If this continues…he’s not going to alter my DNA, is he?”

“…That’s the last resort. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

♡

Prologue ft. Wife! Darling ๑ Side Stories

So did I jumpscare y'all with the early release of Moonrise?? It’s part of a double feature with Sunset, hence the contrasting titles and simultaneous ideas. But aahhh little did I think that I'd finish this fic ahead of schedule~

Lots of love to my beta-reader @diodellet!! And thanks again to everyone who expressed their love for my Miguel O’Hara writing. May my next idea be less painful for all of us :’>

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @handsomeunderwear-art @literaree @pumpkin-toffee @curesi @miggyyyyohara @abyssalrot @letskidaddle @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o’hara #yandere miguel o’hara x reader #yandere miguel x reader #yandere spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #yandere atsv #across the spiderverse #tw: yandere #tw: dark #fem reader #lyla #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv spoilers #atsv miguel #atsv lyla #spicy warning #spiderman 2099 #jessamine-writing

[ughgoaway]

don't you think of me?

plot; snapshots of your breakup, with one letter underlining it all.

word count; 6.9k-ish

content warnings; swearing, dramatic overreactions, distressing dreams, depression, blood, general sad vibes, drinking and no happy ending (oops <3)

a/n; guys... angst is SO HARD. idk how people write it sooooo well. this fic is inspired by the songs "Sad Beautiful Tragic" and "I Almost Do" and the storyline is based completely on those songs! but there are a few other Taylor song references in the fic too. anyway, this kind of jumps around a lot, perspectives and timelines. so if it's completely incomprehensible, I am so sorry!! lemme know if it's so awful I need to have a re-write lol. I really hope the flashbacks are clear, and that this timeline makes any sense whatsoever <3

(p.s this is basically dedicated to 🍪 anon and bff anon, ty for riding so hard for this fic lol)

(this is non-canon)

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The cold wind hurts Matty's face as he battles against it. Each gust feels like needles prickling his cheeks. But still, he pushes through, not really feeling much of anything these days anyway. The paper in his pocket scratches his hands as he burrows them in deeper, but he just grips it harder. The scratches made him feel more human anyway. They convinced his hazy head that maybe life was still happening around him. 

The red post box in front of him is almost taunting. He stands frozen, gripping the letter he’s worked so hard on tightly. He has the passing thought of just letting it go, watching it blow away in the breeze, and never having to think about it again. 

He never has to think about you again. 

But he knows that's unrealistic. How can he never think of you again when you're all he thinks about? Every waking thought he has is about you. He still thinks about how your breathing changed when you slept next to him. The way your lips curved into the smirk he loved whenever you teased him. The flush that covered your cheeks when he did it back. 

Every morning, he still gets out 2 mugs. He still grabs your favourite wine at the shops and doesn't say yes to plans without thinking if he should check with you first. The last time he saw you was still burned into the back of his mind, and he was not sure it could ever leave. 

And to be honest, he doesn't know if he wants it to. If healing means forgetting you, forgetting everything you built, then maybe it is better to live in the pain. Each time he begins to heal, he picks up the scab over and over again. The sting reminded him of you, so he picked and picked. Blood poured from him relentlessly, but that was all he could do. Bleeding for you was all he had of you anymore.

He shoved the letter in and walked away briskly. He fought every bone in his body telling him to go back. To smash the post box and filter through every letter until he found his. He imagined a world in which he hadn't sent it, where instead he turned around and marched back to his house. 

Or maybe there's a world where he marched to your house instead. Maybe he finally got over himself and told you everything in person. He begged and pleaded for you to forgive him, to look him in the eyes and tell him you've been hurting just as much as him.

Matty isn't sure that world exists, though.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

3 days later, when it arrives, you stare at it endlessly. You move it from place to place in your apartment and try to visualise opening it there. But soon enough, that just becomes you avoiding that room like the plague, and you start to treat parts of your flat like they are infested with a deadly virus. But they're not, really. They're just filled with a small envelope with your name on it and a return address you know all too well.

You decide you aren't going to read it 2 days later. You hold it over a candle and watch the amber flames lick the bottom of the envelope. But before you can set it ablaze, some instinct takes over, and suddenly, it's the most important object you've ever owned. You pull it from the flames and put it out with your fingers, not caring if the fire sizzles your skin. You cry and beg for it to be okay, tears streaming from your cheeks as you frantically pull it open, “No no no. fuck, please.” 

But the letter inside was unscathed, just the corner of the envelope was covered in a thin layer of ash. As soon as you see that handwriting, though, you feel the unspeakable urge to burn it again, to set it on fire and watch it burn. 

You don’t. 

You lay it on the table and go to bed. You decide tomorrow will be the day you do something with it, even though you promised yourself that every day since you got it. But you're sure tomorrow will really be the day. It has to be.

You return to the warm solace of the bed you've grown to know too well over the past few weeks, and the duvet welcomes you in like an old friend.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

It's a few days after he sent the letter and the day after you received it when he sees you for the first time, and he can't quite believe it. There you were, standing in the coffee shop you always went to together. 

He wondered if the baristas had noticed you both started to come in without the other. Maybe they started gossiping about it, “Did those customers break up? I never see them together any more” and he could almost see someone else saying “I hope not. They were cute.”

Even though he knew no one would ever actually say that, and that the baristas hadn't noticed anything.

Some force that he couldn't explain pulled him towards you, and before he knew it, he was reaching for your arm. “Hi” he breathed out heavily, staring at you like he wasn't sure you were real. He wasn't convinced that you were anything but a figment of his imagination. Has his delusions about you already gotten to the point where he's having visions? He thought it would take a few more months for that.

“Matty?” You say gently, tracing your eyes over the man in front of you. Hearing your soft voice after months without you felt like heaven on earth for Matty, relaxation washing over him just at the soft dulcet tones of you.

Matty smiled softly at you, and you immediately returned it. He can see the cogs turning in your head on how to greet him. Was a hug too much? Is a wave too little? Is a handshake too formal? Overthinking was one thing you were so good. Matty was sure you could win an award for it. So he decided to take the decision into his own hands and wrapped out up in a hug, burrowing his face in your hair and smelling that familiar floral aura he'd fallen in love with.

Your whole body tensed when he first touched you. The once familiar feeling now was slightly cold and awkward. But Matty felt you relax and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face the the feeling of your head in his neck, the place you always used to lay. He swore he could feel you breathe him in, but soon convinced himself it was wishful thinking.

Reluctantly, you pull away, looking up at Matty with glassy eyes. The barista next to you clears his throat, bringing you both back to earth and out of whatever haze you were in. “your tea is ready” he says awkwardly, eyeing you and Matty with a sly smile on his lips.

“Right! Sorry, yes. Thank you” You grab your cup and turn back to Matty nervously. He can see the anxiety radiating off you, just like it always had. He never thought it would be directed at him, but he tries not to overthink it too much.

“Do you-” You clear your throat, shaking your head as you try to process that you're seeing him again. Seeing your Matty. “Do you want to sit with me? Catch up?” 

Matty can see your hands shaking around your cup and the nervousness swimming in your eyes. “Of course,” he says easily. He could never deny an opportunity to spend time with you. Especially not when he hadn't seen you in so long. And certainly not when you still take up his every waking thought. 

The conversation flows like you had never left, easily chatting and catching up like you always had. You tell Matty about the cat you adopted and how she loves to sit on top of the fridge to scare you. He tells you about his mum and her latest drama. Her kitchen cupboards were the wrong colour of grey, and it was the topic of conversation for much longer than he thought possible.

The first bout of silence comes when you ask about Annie, and Matty can tell it took every ounce of strength to force the words out of your mouth. You felt like someone had taken one of your vital organs when you left her, and you can still see her face in your mind whenever you close your eyes.

“she's good. Misses you, though. Especially because she doesn't see you at school anymore since you got a new job” he says with a solemn smile. Matty tries to hold eye contact, but he gives up a few seconds into it, instead staring at his coffee as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. 

Thankfully, soon enough, the once stilted silence becomes easy chatter and laughter all over again, Matty welcomed the warm conversation with open arms, missing your presence more than he ever thought possible.

But Matty's mouth soon got ahead of him, “so when was the last time I saw you?” he asked thoughtlessly. His brain was on autopilot, and the words poured out of him before he could stop it. The very topic you'd both been dancing around was now laid out in front of you, and it couldn't be ignored. 

Matty saw something in your demeanour change, your once soft smile morphing into a faux-happy grimace, “Don't you remember? You screaming at me in the kitchen? And then storming out after saying what you did? Maybe you remember smashing a plate on the floor?” Matty pauses at your words, not quite believing you're deciding to re-hash all of this in the middle of a coffee shop, especially with a massive and slightly creepy grin on your face, but he answers anyway. 

“Of course, I remember. And there's not enough words to say how sorry I am but-” he stutters as he tries to explain himself more, but you cut him off, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“Are you sure you remember? When you left me? Abandoned me? Left me sobbing and alone? What about the 30 phone calls you ignored?” You kept talking, and Matty couldn't get a word in, your voice increasing in volume with each desperate question. 

“Look I’m so sorry-” Matty desperately looked around him to see if people were staring at your raised voice, but the cafe was empty. The once bustling coffee shop is now like a ghost town, with no evidence of another human ever being in there. 

He flicks his head back to yours, only to be in his kitchen, forced back to that night. He stares at you in your pyjamas, tears streaming down your face. He flicks his eyes down to see him dressed in the same liquor-stained clothes, and he can taste the red wine on his tongue.

“Why” you whispered over and over again, gradually getting louder, eventually shouting at Matty as he stood there motionless.

Matty wakes up in a cold sweat, panting wildly as his brain fights to figure out what the fuck is happening. He scrambles to his phone and realises; it's still the same day. It was just another fucking dream. He knows nightmare would be the better word, but he can't bring himself to describe anything with you in it as a nightmare. 

With a heavy sigh, he flops back to his pillow, gripping his phone desperately and trying to fight the urge to call you. It almost doesn't work, and he clicks on your contact and lets his thumb hover over the call button. He sees the unanswered calls and the pleading messages. He can feel the desperation through the screen. 

He thinks your new boyfriend must've blocked his number because that's easier than thinking that you just hate him. Each time he reaches out, there’s no reply, and he feels a part of himself die.

He hadn't tried for a few months now, but he still had that urge to type out his every thought, to send it and call you until you answered. But he doesn't. 

It doesn't occur to Matty that the real reason that the reason you don't answer isn't because of a new boyfriend or because you hate him. Instead, it’s because you know you can't deal with another goodbye. You can't risk all this happening again. You were already practically ripped open. You can't risk tearing the very stitches you worked so hard to sew closed.

But matty doesn't know that, so with a huff, he clicks off you and onto George, and this time, he lets the phone ring.

“Huh? what-” he hears the groggy voice over the phone mutter, and it's then he realises maybe ringing George at 3 am because he had a nightmare wasn't the best decision. But it was too late now, and he could practically see George's expectant face from the other side of the phone. 

“Hi. it um- it happened again” Matty said with a huff, falling back into the pillows and staring at the moonlight dancing across his ceiling. He heard George's heavy sigh and the distinct sound of ruffling sheets, George had sat up instinctively, knowing something was up.

“What was it this time? Did everyone in the crowd turn into her again” George says softly, rubbing at his tired eyes and fighting a yawn. 

“No, it started off really nice this time. I saw her again at that cafe we always went to, you know the one near the studio? We were just chatting and catching up. But then she wouldn't stop talking about that night, telling me what happened all over again. And then I blinked, and I was back. I was in that kitchen again, just staring at her.” Matty follows the moonbeams with his eyes, lingering on the two beams crossing over, only for their paths to separate once again.

It reminded him of you and him.

“I think you need to get some lavender oil or some shit. You need to sleep. And these nightmares aren't helping” George says firmly, Matty would usually fight him tooth and nail at the suggestion.

He claimed it was because that stuff had never worked for him, but George knew it was because he saw it as still having a part of you in his life. Even if you were there in the form of his demons, at least they all looked like you.

But to his surprise, Matty immediately crumbled, “Yeah, you're right. Will you come to Boots with me after the studio tomorrow?” George agreed quickly before Matty could change his mind.

But he didn't try to, Matty simply said, “Thanks. Okay, I'll let you sleep now… Bye.” And before George could tell him it was okay, and he’d stay chatting as long as Matty needed, he was gone. 

Tears leaked from Matty’s eyes, wetting the same pillow where you used to lay your head. This loop of healing felt endless, and Matty wasn't sure if fixing this was possible when he knew you were still out there without him. Forever wouldn't have even been enough with you, but now he has nothing. What is he meant to do with no you?

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

As Matty lay awake in Manchester, you were in the same position in London. The same lonely bed, but different cities. Unlike him, you haven't managed to sleep yet. Instead, you can't stop your brain from imagining what is in that letter. Your mind falls back to that night, and you replay the events over and over again. Every word Matty said was etched in your mind, so it played easily, the same script ringing in your ears all these months later.

//////////////////////

Matty shut the door delicately. Getting home at 2 am. was already bad enough. He didn't want to wake you or Annie in the process. But when he saw the light pouring out of the kitchen and heard the distinct hissing of the kettle, he knew you were awake. And he knew you were waiting for him.

He walked into the kitchen silently, leaning on the counter and watching you potter around, he remember when he used to sit here for hours and dream of you in his house. Now he's not even sure the last time you said I love you to each other. You continue to ignore Matty, but you getting a second mug out of the cupboard tells him all he needs to know. This is going to be a long night. 

“At the studio late again?” You ask, passing Matty his mug and leaning across from him. Your eyes trace up his figure, and you can't help but think you don't recognise the man in front of you. His clothes hung off of him, and heavy bags sat under his empty eyes. His hair was standing on end, once perfectly manicured curls now frazzled beyond repair.

“Yeah, George wanted to fix this harmony. Sorry I'm back so late” he knew lying to you was wrong. He really did. But he couldn't bring himself to explain where he actually was, drinking alone in a bar rather than at home with his family.

“Oh. okay.” you pause and wait for Matty to correct himself, giving him a chance to be fucking honest for once. But he doesn't, so you push again.

“That's weird though, because I asked Charli where George was 2 hours ago, and she sent a photo of them together. In bed.”

Matty's eyes widened. He knew he'd just been caught, but he wasn't ready to give up the lie yet. He just needed a few more weeks away, and then he would come back. Then everything would be made right again. So his tipsy mind comes up with a new lie and pleads with whatever God there might be that would believe him, “Oh did I say George? I meant Hann, you know how I get when it's late”

“Matty. You stink of booze. Do you think im an idiot?” You sigh, placing your tea down and crossing your arms over your chest. The anger bubbling within you was threatening to spill over. You felt as if every word from Matty was a stab, yet he kept just pushing the knife deeper.

“So I had a drink at the studio! Sue me, Jesus Christ” Matty sneers at you as he talks, slamming his cup onto the counter, ignoring the burning on his hand from the tea falling over the rim.

“Liar” you click your tongue at Matty and cast your eyes to the floor. Staring into his eyes as he lied to you was agony, and you're not sure how much more pain you can take.

“I'm not lying. I swear I just-” he tries to argue, but you refuse to let him keep going.

“I know you're lying. You're always fucking lying! You weren't at the studio.” you sighed heavily flicking your eyes up to Matty briefly, but the tension was too much, it hurt to look at him.  

“Baby, cmon, calm down. It’s okay, yeah? I’m here now,” Matty moved towards you, grabbing your cheek in his hand and moving in to kiss you, prepared to make this all melt away just like he always did. You try to push him away, but Matty stands strong. He had to fix this. He needed to kiss and make up. It was all he knew how to do.

“Would you just fucking listen” you shout, pushing Matty back across from you, “I don't even know who you are anymore! These past few weeks have made you into a man I don't even fucking recognise.” You look up at him with crazed eyes and scoff at the sight of the man in front of you. 

You were done with it all. The lying, the running away, the sleuthing around. Done. You were having this conversation, and you were having it now.

“No please don't say that. You know me. I don't know who I am without you knowing me,” Matty begged, sobering up quickly at your words.

He needs to bring this back, claw what little life you had left in you to the surface. Everything that left Matty’s life has had claw marks in it, and he would be damned if he'd let you go without the same scars.

“Don't you understand that's the fucking issue, Matty? You don't know who you are anymore, I don't know who you are anymore. You need to be a person without me.” your words struck Matty in the chest like a bullet. 

Were you seriously suggesting what he thinks you are? Do you actually want to break up with him?

Matty baulks at your words. Every feeling he’d had over the past few months was catching up to him, crashing into each other in his brain as they fought to be let out. Anger won because, of course, it won. It seems to always win.

He decides that if you want to break up, then he'll do it himself. He can't let you beat him to it. He knows it's childish, but he doesn't fucking care. He needs to win this. “Please, I've been a person without you for 30 fucking years. I’m a fucking dad! I don't need you to tell me who I am.”

“Annie needs both her parents, Matty. We need you back, please.” The mention of Annie makes outrage bubble within him like it had never done before. He can't believe you'd practically threatened to break up with him one minute and then beg for him back for the sake of his daughter the next. Because that is what she is, she's his daughter.

“You don't know what it's like to be a parent y/n,” Matty mumbles under his breath, but he might as well have screamed it at you because that's how loudly it rang in your ears. He knew he'd fucked up as soon as he said it, but there was no going back now, and he could see that in your eyes.

“I don't know what it's like to be a parent. Are you fucking kidding Matty? What the hell have I been doing here for the past year? Just fucking around? I can't believe you could say that to me.” You hear your voice wavering as you force each word out. 

“Annie is just as much my daughter as she is yours” you whisper desperately. The regret of mentioning Annie was building in your chest, and it felt like a rock impeding your lungs, each breath fighting against the weight. but it was too late to take anything back now. Both you and Matty knew it.

Matty scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he fiddles with his fingers. He tries desperately to cool his raging mind, but he can't. He figures if he is already in this deep, why not stoop a little lower?

“Just as much your daughter? Please. You weren't here for fucking any of it. Where were you here when she was born? How about when she was sick for the first time and wouldn't let me put her down without screaming bloody murder? Or- or how about when she broke her arm and she cried when she couldn't have a pink cast? Or maybe for any fucking time apart from the last 12 months. I know you liked playing happy families y/n, but be fucking real for 5 seconds. You were her teacher, maybe a fun friend, but nothing more. And if you think you were, you're more delusional than I thought.”

His chest heaved as he finished, not taking a single breath during his rambling speech, he could see your wet eyes and he felt his heart aching but he just couldn't stop himself, words tumbling out of his mouth. "Even if you stayed, even if you never give up on us, on this. You could never be her mother.”

Both of you pause, the silence thick and heavy around you. How long could you stand like this and pretend he didn’t say that? Maybe if you just stayed there and listened to your ragged breathing, something would change.

But nothing did.

“Fuck you. You told me I was practically her mother a month ago. You said to me I was it for you, that your family was complete. I can't believe-” words poured out of you, streaming helplessly as you paced the kitchen. 

Matty tried to cut in, desperate to get a word in edgeways. The need to defend himself was all-consuming. He needed to know that you understood he said it in the heat of the moment. Words fall out of his mouth without thinking. He can’t help it.

“y/n, love-”

“I’m not her mother? Tell that to the time I took her dress shopping for your mum's wedding. Or when I took her to A&E with suspected appendicitis. and-”

“y/n. Stop, just listen to me, please.” Matty begs, he almost inches closer to you, but some ineffable force keeps him where he is, watching you pace helplessly.

“Listen to you? Oh, I've done plenty of fucking listening Matthew. All I do is listen to you! But you never fucking hear me-” 

“Can you just shut up for 5 fucking seconds” Matty shouted, grabbing a plate from beside him, throwing it against the concrete floor, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. He just needed you to look at him, to tell him you could fix this, but you wouldn't stop talking.

A gasp from you pulls him back to earth, and he feels his heart break into as many pieces as the plate below his feet. Your wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks glare back at him, and Matty has nothing to say. He has no fucking idea what just came over him.

Matty gingerly takes a step towards you, trying to avoid the ceramic splayed over the floor. His fingers shake as he reaches his hand out to your cheek, wanting to thumb away the tears falling.

But just as he does, he sees you flinch. It wasn't even a full movement, practically a micro-expression. But you fucking flinched. And you both knew it. The veil of silence over you is thick as you both stand there motionless with no idea what you could say to fix this. To make the last 10 minutes disappear. 

Matty’s touch used to calm you. It was the only reassurance you needed. But now the mere thought of it filled you with some twisted sense of fear. The woman he had planned the rest of his life with was scared of him. And it was all his fucking fault. How had this all become his worst nightmare? How had the very thing he sacrificed so much to build crumbled and destroyed itself so deeply?

“Matty wait- I’m sorry, I was just still on edge. It's okay, im okay. See?” With a shaking hand, you grip his, bringing it to your face despite his protests. You can feel him trying to pull his arm away, but you fight him at every tug. Forcibly placing his hand on your wet cheek.

As soon as your hand drops from his, Matty wrenches away from you. The feeling of your cheek against his palm felt as if his skin was burning. The pain touched his every nerve. 

The air is charged with pure fear as you stare at the other, both of your chests heaving and your eyes glassy with unshed tears. Without thinking it through, Matty storms off, grabbing his keys as he pushes through the house. You chase after him, ignoring the blades of ceramic impaling your sock-covered feet, “No don't leave, Matty, please. Stay, stay here.” You reach to grab his arm, but Matty snatches it away before you can even feel his skin against yours.

“I’m leaving. I’m staying at George tonight. Tomorrow I’ll come pick Annie up from school. You will call in and take a sick day. Start packing your shit. I’m done. You're out of my house by tomorrow.” Matty demands, and with that, he leaves. Slamming the door behind him. 

Bloody footprints lay in a trail behind you, and your socks start slowly becoming sodden from your weeping wounds. But still, you stood there, unmoving. Shock coursing through your veins.

It was all over. Just like that.

////////////////////

The letter was taunting you from the other room, the blacked corner flashed into your mind whenever your eyes finally fluttered close. The image of you burning the letter played behind your eyelids like a movie, and you almost wish you really had done it.

But you didnt, so it still sat on your living room table, torturing you.

Eventually, you drift off to sleep, tears dampen the pillow below your head, but you ignore the thumping in your head and finally let sleep pull you under.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

You know you're dreaming when you're back in that kitchen. But you can't stop it from happening. The hazy filter that covers your surroundings is the only thing assuring you this isn't real, that this isn't all happening again.

Matty stands in front of you just as he had that night, but he looks different. His once frizzy curls sat in perfectly ringlets around his face, the streaks of grey dancing through them more prominent. His unshaven face was now neatly trimmed, and you admired the salt and pepper hairs within it. You can see the tears brimming in his eyes, glittering on his waterline. 

“So you'll forgive me? We can move on?” he says desperately, smiling and moving towards you with tears falling down his cheeks.

You try to speak, but your mouth doesn't move, your lips stay pressed together against your brain's protests. Not even grunts escape you. Silently, you stare at Matty, completely motionless. 

“y/n? You forgive me. I can make this right again, can't I?” Matty begs desperately. He grabs your hand but recoils at the cold feeling on his skin, your fingers cold as ice in his grip.

You fight to speak again, to tell him yes. To tell him you forgive him, that you need to try again. But still, nothing leaves your lips.

Matty scoffs at you, ripping himself away from you, “I can't believe you're ignoring me. I thought you'd be more mature than this. Call me when you can actually have an adult fucking conversation.”

He storms off, but all you can do is watch him helplessly. Every nerve in your body is screaming to move, to chase after him. And you almost do, but some inexplicable force is keeping you there, motionless in the same place where your life ended all those months ago.

So you watch him leave again, the haze surrounding you soon becoming darkness. 

You know it's a dream, and you keep on telling yourself that. But when you wake with wet cheeks and a heaving chest, it feels pretty fucking real.

You swear you can feel him next to you, awake and staring at the same ceiling. But when you turn to see him, the piled-up duvet is all that's there, along with a cold bed beside you.

It's then you decide to finally give in to that voice in your head, the one screaming at you to just read the letter, to get it over and done with. The one begging you to throw it away and never look back is nearly silenced, and it soon becomes nothing but a whisper in the back of your mind.

The letter stays exactly where you left it, and whilst you know it couldn't have moved, part of you wishes it had. With shaking hands, you grab the pile of pages, and you can feel your heart racing the very same way it used to when you saw him.

The city lights shine onto you as you finally open the pages, looking at the handwriting you knew all too well. The same handwriting that used to give you butterflies, that used to detail how much it loved you, filling pages with adoration. 

Now you're not so sure what it entails. But you read anyway, ignoring every screaming signal telling you to stop.

///////////

Hi darling,

I know I don't have the right to call you that anymore, but I can't bring myself to call you anything else. It's been a few months since we've spoken, and I've felt every minute of it. I've filled notebooks writing about you, writing to you. I must have practised this letter a dozen times, and I know this still won't be right. 

So, instead of trying to write the perfect letter, I've ripped out some pages from my journal. My therapist told me to write like I was speaking to you, so that's what I did. I’m sure she would be pissed that im sending this at all, but I need to do this for us. To remember what we once were. 

Anyway, I hope it makes you understand what this time without you has been like for me. You can ignore this letter completely and I wouldn't blame you. I won't hold it over you if you burn it and never look back. But if you do read it, I just need you to know im sorry. For everything.

(3 weeks without you)

To say the past couple of weeks have been hell for me is beyond an understatement. There is this festering part of me that thinks I will love you forever, and the knowledge that we will never be like we once were kills me, but it has to kill me. Because if I felt anything other than agony, I would come crawling back to you, and you don't deserve that. And I know that. But fucking hell, that doesn't make it hurt any less.

You know me, I don't know what it's like to have surface-level emotions. I either feel it all, or I feel nothing. and with you? I fucking felt it all. I felt every touch, every smile, every fight, every screaming match ending in tears. I fucking felt it. and for some reason- I'm still thankful for it. because at least I felt you.

I wonder if you're at the point where you miss me when you hear my name. And I can't help but think about you hearing my songs, do you change the station? Even if they're about you? But if I’m honest, they're all about you. Every one of them. Even before I knew you, they were about you.

(a month and a half)

I wish you could forgive me. I think if I knew you didn't hate me, I could move on. Or maybe it would do the opposite. I don't know. All I do know is, I miss you. 

(2 months)

Sometimes I miss you so much I can't handle it. I go driving and find the places we used to go, I sit there, and I can still hear your laugh. I can feel that all-encompassing warmth that surrounds you. but then someone speaks, or a car horn goes off, and suddenly, it's cold again. I mourn you like you're someone I've lost forever, and in a way, I have.

You know I still feel you every day, everywhere. Because you might have left, but you never really did. I still find your socks down beside the bed, and your hair ties around the house. I accidentally used your shampoo in the shower this week. You know that ridiculous Jasmine one that you pay too much for? 

It was like having you around again, I never thought the small of some shitty shampoo would be the thing that brought it all back to me, brought you back to me. Yet it was. But still, you were gone. 

So apparently, I decided to fall into the breakup trope of crying in the shower. For 45 minutes, which made me feel slightly pathetic. And it didn't help when George knocked on the door and washed my hair again. with my shampoo. But I still find myself smelling jasmine even when it's nowhere near.

You haunt me in ways I never thought possible.

(3 months)

It's 3 a.m., and I can't stop picturing your face. Just knowing you're still out there makes it so much fucking harder. I don't know how to cope knowing you're there and not here, with me. Even months later there's some sick part of me that hopes leaving me was the hardest thing you've had to do. but I hope loving me wasn't. 

I know that's selfish, and that this is all my fault anyway. so I want you to move on, even if it kills me. it's hell thinking that the one person you could never forget is fighting to forget you. 

But I hope you find the love of your life. I hope they make your tea just how you like it, and buy you those crazy expensive candles you love. I hope they will follow you to the ends of the earth, just like I would. even now. 

(3 and a half months)

I want to say you don't know how it feels to miss you, you don't know how hard it is. but I have to keep hoping you miss me just as much. because if you didn't, if you just moved on without a second thought; I couldn't cope. the fact that we will always just be an almost will live with me until the day I die. I don't want you to be an almost. I want you to be an always. but it's over, and I know that. or at least I'm very good at pretending I know that.

(4 months)

Recently, I've been thinking about “what ifs?” Despite my therapist telling me I shouldn't. But you know what it is like after breakups. It's this all-consuming thing, and you can't help but imagine if things were different.

I think in another universe, we worked out. I got over my massive ego, and you worked through your past, and it fixed itself. We got married, had another kid, and got that cat you always wanted. We'd go to Annie's graduation together. Her wedding together. you'd cry as I walked her down the aisle, I'd smile and kiss away your tears. and I know that's not this universe. but fucking hell why can't it be?

(4 and a half months)

My mum misses you. She asked how you were doing today and if I had reached out yet. I got angry at her and stormed out. If only she knew how many times I’d dialled your number and then turned off my phone. Or how many unanswered texts I've sent. 

Annie misses you too, by the way. She's finally stopped asking when you're coming back.

I wish she still asked.

(today)

I don't expect you to read all of this, and if you've just skipped to the end, I don't blame you.

but I'm sending this letter because I think I'm finally at a place where when I think of you, I don't take it as a sign from the universe that we were meant to be together. instead, I think of it as a past life, as proof that we were an almost.

Next time I see you, I hope it doesn't hurt as much as the last time.

Goodbye, my love,

Matty x

///////////

The distinct sound of dripping tears hitting paper was the only noise in the room. You watched helplessly as the ink distorted under the little pools of wetness. A million thoughts race through your mind, and you can't help but fucking hate him for sending this.

How could he do this to you? All you've been doing for months is healing, but he keeps ripping open old wounds carelessly. He has to know you can never go back. You can't trust him.

All you left behind you was a mess. You were both better off this way.

With a scoff, you grab your lighter and cigarettes, stepping onto the balcony with the letter gripped in your shaking hands. You have to flick the lighter a few times before it works, the bitter wind fighting against it. 

But soon the flame comes, you sigh happily, moving it up to the cigarette delicately balanced between your lips. You suck in a deep breath, revelling in the feeling of the smoke filling your lungs. The slight crackle brings you more relaxation than anything else these days, but you still have to fight to ignore the familiarity of the scent.

You flick the lighter again, huffing annoyed as it goes out. Once you see the distinct glow of amber, you don't hesitate before placing it against the paper and watching the pages in front of you burn up.

Ashes sizzle your skin, but you couldn't care less. In fact, you welcome the pain. A sick smile comes across your face, grinning around the now-lit cigarette in your mouth.

Isn't it funny how little words mean, when they're a little too late?

#here it is... i am nervous <3 #like i had fun writing it but is it any good?? time will only tell... #angst is difficult but very interesting to write #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty x reader #matty healy angst #the 1975 angst #the 1975 fic #teacher au!

[sungbeam]

SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW — act I, scene v

nonidol!hwang intak x f!reader

when summit poster boy hwang intak's car breaks down in the school parking lot, it sets off a chain of events that leads to you, someone he was perhaps always meant to find. the only problem is that the two of you are far from the ideal couple, and your peers are apt to keep that status quo.

▷ genre, chapter warnings. s2f2l, classism and discrimination, forbidden romance au, minimal swearing, angst, humor, mentions of grief and terminal illness, written in third person pov

▷ word count. 2.8k

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a/n: whenever i come back to this series, i remember how hard it is to write it

SUMMER (RISING SENIORS).

Yn had not sent a picture back to Intak. In fact, she hadn't even opened his messages. Intak couldn't decide which was worse—being left on "read" or on "delivered." Both were equally quite horrible, but as the day went on with radio silence from her end, he continuously had to remind himself that she had responsibilities and a life. She couldn't be at his beck and call, and she certainly wouldn't ever entertain the idea of being so.

But one little text would have eased his mind. Just one, little text.

Intak flopped onto the couch in the living room of his house, the entirety of which remained just as cold and empty as it always was. In a way, the quiet was good because it meant that his father wasn't home, taking with him that thick, haunting presence of his. Intak sometimes imagined that he walked around with a massive cloud of fog clinging to his legs and feet, and that image had engraved itself into his head since he was an adolescent, more so now that his father's murky fog would soon consume Intak in all of those heavy expectations.

He lifted his phone up to catch a glimpse of the time. He would have to leave for that one dance class soon, the one that he and his friends had signed up for together to occupy themselves during the summer. If Intak wasn't forced to take over the company after his schooling, he would be dancing, or maybe even reading shit, like proper literature, and writing poetry about dead older brothers and forbidden friendships with strangers who felt closer to him than his own family.

He was tempted to text Yn just to check in. Something like 'hey bff i'm bored as hell and sad as fuck hbu' or 'miss u and worried about u text me back?' or god forbid, 'i've been trying to imagine what u look like but i have a feeling a picture won't do u justice.' God, he really needed to stop watching those cursed romcoms when he was bor—

Bzzzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzz.

Intak leapt out of his skin in surprise.

He reached into his pants pocket to withdraw Jaehyuk's phone. The notifications from Yn came in rapid succession at the top of the screen:

yer a wizard yn!: sorry i went mia for like a day

yer a wizard yn!: smth came up

yer a wizard yn!: cute pic btw :') ig i owe u a pfp too

yer a wizard yn!: *sent a photo*

Intak held his breath, then forced himself to turn away from the phone screen. Was he ready for this? Was he ready for her reveal? This felt like an invasion of privacy, especially with how carefully she kept her identity hidden the first few weeks they'd been texting each other. It hadn't been until recently that Yn had begun to let him learn things about her.

It wasn't like he forced her though… right? It was out of her own want and will. It was her choice and he—

He was going to fully indulge in that.

Intak finally opened up the full chat to view the messages she'd sent.

And lo and behold, there she was. It was a casual selfie, seeming to be taken in front of a window by the way the sun shone over her face in a gold-colored glow. She wore a dark T-shirt with a logo Intak couldn’t quite make out from the way her arms and hair were positioned. In fact, he could only see about half of her face from the way she hid the lower half behind her pulled-up knees. But her eyes crinkled enough that he could see that she was smiling.

The soft smile on his face was a stark contrast to the sharp palpitations of his heart in his chest. Before, he could never imagine the face he was speaking to across the phone—rather, it had always just been a person with blurred features. Now that he could put a face to the name, and the voice, and the character…

Intak saved the picture and set it as Yn’s contact photo. He wondered if he should have even been doing this since Jae didn’t even have a contact photo saved for her. (But now that she had sent it, it wasn’t like Intak was going to resist setting that photo as her contact, especially since it was an excuse to stare at it while he was texting her.)

jae’s phone: that photo is not fair that’s like… half ur face dude >://// /j

jae’s phone: but thank uuuuuuu i KNEW u were cute

He chewed on his bottom lip, quickly adding onto his previous texts since it seemed like Yn wasn’t going to reply back any time soon.

jae’s phone: ik ur the one who suggested swapping photos, but i hope u didn’t feel obligated to. ik u were never super comfortable w sharing personal info abt urself w me, but i’m genuinely really happy to get to know u better

jae’s phone: lol idk y that got kinda sappy ? but i hope everything’s good on ur end!!

jae’s phone: i’ve gotta go to a dance lesson rn tho so ttyl ynieee!!!!

Intak sighed as he forced himself to click out of his and Yn’s direct messages, and to haul his ass off the couch. He had, at multiple instances, contemplated why he felt so attached to Yn. Perhaps it was because she was so close to his brother and this truly was just his own kind of closure. Or it was something else, too.

Yn's eyes burned holes through the notifications that sat at the top of her phone screen. It had been several hours since Intak had sent them, and she knew exactly what they said. She'd even mentally written out and sent several replies, but never physically carried them out. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

The heavy weight that had settled on her chest from a day ago still rested there. Usually, privileged shit Summit kids did to her and in front of her were annoying, but she'd learned to grow thick skin. She didn't know why this time affected her so poorly. Then again, the fact that neither Jongseob nor Shota had gotten over it could have contributed to her own mood, too.

Her brothers in arms had been quiet since then, barely speaking unless necessity prevailed. The shop had never been so quiet before, and even when customers and neighbors came by with a friendly word or joke, they would force a smile onto their faces or a laugh from their throats. She could hear the strain, the grudge and emotions tugging at the corners of their mouths.

"If I had the money…" Yn remembered hearing Jongseob muttering under his breath the night of the incident. She knew exactly what he was thinking then and there. All the bitterness in the negative space.

They'd all grown to have thick skin, but it was bound to crack at some point. They weren't made of steel, after all.

After a long, grueling day at the shop, Yn, Shota, and Jongseob returned to Yn's house to wash up for the evening. The walk home had been quiet, and she'd been itching to reach for her phone and finally open up Intak's messages…

She cleared her throat. "Go get cleaned up and meet me in the living room," she voiced aloud to the two of them as she unlocked the front door.

Jongseob grunted, "Why?"

"We're watching Clueless."

Shota let out a snort as Jongseob threw his head back in a loud groan. "You're shitting me. Any other movie than that one, Yn. We've watched that, like, fifteen times."

With her back still to them, she could let herself smile just a little. All she had been looking for was that reaction from him. "Okay, well, if you can be on the couch in fifteen minutes, then you can choose a different—"

She hadn't even finished what she was saying when the two of them bolted past her, exclaiming at each other as they raced for access to the closest bathroom. Yn laughed under her breath, nudging the door closed behind her with the toe of her shoe. She hadn't even been sure whether or not the two would stay here with her or not since they basically stayed shut up in the old extra bedroom instead of hanging out. Though they would have been in the house, it had sounded like no one else was home.

But now? Yn made her way into the kitchen to get dinner started. Hopefully she could get something on the stove by the time one of them hopped out of the shower. Knowing Jongseob though…

She estimated that it was about five minutes later that Jongseob's elephant stomps sounded down the hall, nearing the living room and kitchen at high speed. Seconds later, a blur of orange and white launched himself over the back of the couch. As she expected, it was Jongseob with that freshly showered glow, damp hair, and a white towel hanging around his shoulders.

Her amused gaze clashed with his, and though his face was pressed into a deadpan, she saw the glimmer in his irises. He told her, "We're watching Star Wars."

Yn grinned. "Deal's a deal, kid."

Right on cue, Shota came sliding into the living room with his dampened locks tied up and out of his face with a Hello Kitty hair tie he no doubt found in the drawers of the bathroom. She wondered how he found stuff like that, stuff that she had ditched so long ago when she was much younger. She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m starting to think that neither of you actually use soap when you shower.”

“I’m productive when I’m given motive,” Shota replied, collapsing onto the couch next to Jongseob. She could already hear the tell-tale explosion of sound that was the Star Wars main theme.

It was several hours later when dinner was eaten, dishes were washed, and the lot of them were one and a half Star Wars movies in that Yn stared at her notifications again. Intak hadn't sent anything else since those last messages, and there was a distinct feeling of guilt stewing in the back of her brain. At this point, it overpowered any feelings of annoyance or bitterness from the other day's incident. It was always at evening hours when the overthinking started.

Intak had been good to her thus far, though, and it wasn't fair that she took out her annoyance on him. He had done nothing bad—a part of her countered with “yet.”

She could see the start of his messages: That photo's like half your face dude… I've got to go to a dance lesson though so…

It was all completely harmless, and yet, her heart pounded in her chest from not being able to fully read his reaction to her face reveal. Of course she cared what he thought. She chalked it up to the fact that Intak himself was a pretty face, and it was perfectly normal to be self conscious.

Yn raised her head for a moment when she caught a flash of quick movement from the TV, then felt a pair of eyes on her.

While Shota was curled up at the far end of the couch, Jongseob was seated next to her and saw who's messages sat at the top of her screen. The two of them connected gazes; he said nothing, showed nothing.

A different type of guilt rushed into her head.

Jongseob turned back to the screen, and she was back to square one.

The house was quiet by the time Yn tucked her friends beneath quilts on the couch. Her mom had come home sometime between Return of the Jedi and The Phantom Menace, then crashed immediately after disappearing into her room, leaving Yn to haunt the hallways of her house in the dark and silence by herself.

She perched on the edge of her bed with the light of her phone screen illuminating her face. There were those unread messages at the top of her screen again, yelling at her to just take a peak. There was no harm in seeing what he said—but there was. He would see the Read sign beneath his messages and think the worst.

With nothing else stopping her but her own thoughts, she tapped the notification.

The text chain opened up before her in full. There was nothing out of the ordinary, as she expected. He was just being his bright, sweet self here. Her lips pursed into a slight smile as she read over his sappy talk at the end; it was appreciated though.

But now it was a matter of replying.

He probably thought she was busy all day again, but the guilt of “punishing” him for something that people from his community did and not him personally was eating her up inside.

“Ahem.”

She stopped, eyes widening as her head shot up like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. A drowsy Jongseob stood in her doorway with his eyes at half-mast and his mouth widened in a yawn. Sometimes she forgot that her friend was still a kid—that they were all just kids. “Hey,” she whispered to him. “Did I wake you up or something?”

He shook his head and suddenly looked a lot more awake. “The text messages you got earlier,” he drawled, inclining his chin at her phone.

“Oh.” She glanced down at the screen, then back up at him. “Seob, I—”

“He's gonna hurt you, Yn.”

Her chest felt so hollow all of a sudden. What?

He folded his arms in front of himself, cupping his palms under his elbows. Jongseob's eyebrows furrowed together as if in thought or in an attempt to look firm. “He's gonna hurt you like Jae did.”

No, the hollow feeling was because her heart fell into the pit of her stomach. Everything felt like it was falling out from under her with that statement. Yn said slowly, gently, “Jongseob, Jae didn't mean to hurt us. He didn't mean to get sick. He couldn't control it, Seob. You know that that's not fair.”

Sometimes it was hard to not let the anger seep through into blame and misunderstanding. That was just the grief talking. When those thoughts resurfaced, it was just as difficult to deal with the resulting guilt of ever blaming them later on.

Losing someone was just devastating.

Jongseob sniffled though, and she backtracked on her previous thought. But this wasn't that, was it? “Yeah, well—it seems whether they do it on purpose or not, that's all they do up there: hurt people.”

Her mouth felt so dry then, so helplessly wordless. Her throat was just as voiceless. These kids—her friends—had gone through all that pain just as she had. She couldn't blame them most of the time because she knew where they were coming from.

Jongseob poked his tongue in his cheek. “I know you miss him.”

Yn's fingers curled around the edges of her phone, like she could hold onto whoever was on the other side.

“I miss him, too,” he said.

A stinging sensation erupted in the corners of her eyes and she reached up to staunch the tears like they were cuts, and they were bleeding.

“But no matter their intention, a ghost can only haunt,” he muttered. He let that thought simmer for a second before citing his source, “Got that one off of Pinterest.”

The last comment made a laugh sputter out of her mouth, wet but touched. She sniffled at the same time he did. “I was gonna say,” she said, her voice watery, “when'd you get so smart?”

“I've always been smart,” he scoffed. He exhaled, still lingering on the threshold before waddling over to where she was perched on the bed. Awkwardly, he brought his arms around her upper body and gently patted her back. “Is this helping?”

Yn wrapped her arms around him to reciprocate. “Yeah.”

“Thank god.”

A ghost can only haunt. Maybe it was how fast it had all happened that none of them really got proper closure or got to say goodbye. They would never get a chance to see him ever again, to tell him they felt something for him close to love, and enjoyed his company despite his being from the Summit. There was no chance they'd be invited to the funeral, and there was little possibility of ever visiting his grave. There were only memories and a phone number.

One day he was here, and the next… well the next, Yn was texting Intak. Was this history repeating itself, or would this ending turn into a new beginning entirely?

When they both pulled back from their embrace, Jongseob poked her cheek. “You know I never know what to do when you cry, right?”

She reached up to swipe her palm across her dampened cheeks. “Yeah. You did good, kid.”

That made the corners of his mouth curl up a bit. “I just don't want this guy to be another reason you cry.”

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permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101

series taglist: @kikookii @an0rexiccat @yvesrythingg

#p1harmony x reader #hwang intak x reader #p1harmony oneshot #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #hwang intak oneshot #hwang intak imagines #hwang intak scenarios #p1harmony fanfic #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony angst

[steddiecameraroll]

My whole existence is flawed (You get me closer to God)

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Mature

Words: 24,120

Tags: AU Modern Setting 2014ish, AU No UD, Strangers to Lovers, Eddie Munson and Nancy Wheeler are BFFs, Musician Steve Harrington, Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson, Miscommunication, Romantic Comedy, Background Ronance, Steve's band is called Seven - play on the whole Joe/Djo thing

“You know I’m not into that kind of music. Why don’t you take a different friend or someone else who might enjoy it?” Eddie Munson leans back in the stiff wooden chair in the Starbucks and stares blankly at his best friend, Nancy Wheeler.

“Because I want my best friend to go with me. Come on, you haven’t gotten out in a while. This could be good for you. Plus, it’s his first official show outside of open mics. Wouldn’t you want to be able to say you went to Seven’s first-ever concert when he becomes big and famous?” She gives him a wink, and he rolls his eyes.

“You have a lot of faith in your high school ex-boyfriend’s talent there, Wheeler.” He comments while picking at his blueberry muffin.

“He’s really talented. Come on, Eddie, do me this favor.” She clasps her hands before her chest and gives him her most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but you’ll owe me.” 

“Yes! Ok, but it has to be an equivalent favor that doesn’t involve physical labor or borrowing money.”

“Deal,” he lifts his iced cold brew, and she smiles, raising her iced matcha latte and clinking the bottom of her cup against his.

“You gonna bring anyone?” She raises her eyebrows while taking a sip of her drink.

“No, you know I don’t have time for that shit. The shop is finally gaining traction, and I need to focus on that.”

Eddie opened The Hideout Tattoos and Piercings a little over three years ago and has dedicated every free minute to promoting and building a solid reputation for the shop. It’s finally paying off, and he’s been able to hire two more talented artists and has a full schedule of dedicated clients.

“Come on, you’re going to burn yourself out. You need to take a break and find a life outside that building.”

“Sure, I’ll do that when you tell that poor woman you have a massive crush on her?” Eddie motions to the barista behind the counter, who’s dancing a little to the music playing overhead.

“You know I’m never going to do that.”

“Well, in case you wanted to change that timeline, she has looked over here multiple times since we sat down, checking you out.”

Nancy sits up and fluffs her hair a little. “No, she hasn’t. Shut up.”

“Yes, she has. You’re so easy,” Eddie smirks just as the barista flicks her eyes over to the table for at least the 8th time. “Just did it again.”

“Oh my god, Ed, shut up.”

“Fine, then you can’t say shit about my love life.”

“Touche.” 

Eddie and Nancy never seemed like the friendship kind of duo, but it was easy once she let her guard down. They met at a mutual friend’s party years earlier when Nancy was in her Junior year of college. Eddie was still spending most nights consuming large quantities of alcohol. Nevertheless, Nancy was a positive influence on Eddie. Her business classes have helped him substantially in the last few years, and her stoic responsible demeanor has rubbed off on him.

Before their friendship, Eddie was sometimes found snorting Oxis off bathroom toilets in random bars and banging anyone and everyone he could while rarely being safe. He drank a good 5 days a week and was always late to his first appointments every day, regardless of when they were booked. He was working at a small street shop that took mostly walk-ins at the time and was on thin ice with the manager. He’d worked hard to get the apprenticeship at the shop several years earlier. Still, once he started building his portfolio and getting comfortable with his skills, he slid into dangerous territory.

If Nancy hadn’t fallen into his life then, he’s sure he could’ve lost his dream job and would never be where he is now. But instead, she helped pull him from the brink of an abyss he wanted to slip into. Now she’s his little bisexual soul mate and probably the only person on the planet that he can say he gives a shit about, besides his Uncle Wayne.

“At least give her your number. She’s clearly into you.”

He’s been watching the two of them stare longingly at each other for months, driving him insane. The barista’s name is Robin, and he thinks she’s cute in a bouncy, anxious way. He watches Nancy crumble around her every time they visit the coffee shop. Nancy’s usually so self-assured and put together that when they’re standing at the register placing their order, she starts stumbling over her words. It makes Eddie love her a little more.

“You know I can’t do that. What if she’s straight?”

Eddie looks at her like she’s got to be kidding. He briefly flicks his eyes up to look at Robin, then back to Nancy. “You mean the oversized shirt, non-makeup, Doc Marten, every finger covered in rings wearing little lesbian back there? You can not be that oblivious.”

“Straight girls can wear that stuff.”

“When did you last see a straight girl wearing any of that? They’re all into those skinny jeans, cardigans, and dumb ballet flat shoes. Like that Duschnell girl.”

“Do you mean Zooey Deschanel?”

“Yes! Yeah, her with her big ol eyes.”

“Look who’s talking, Bambi.”

He nods at her. His mom always called his big brown eyes chocolate buttons, so he has no leg to stand on.

“So come on, give her your number. Or let me do it!” He leans over the table, eagerly shimmying his shoulders at her.

“Never, no, don’t you fucking dare Munson, I swear to god. If you do that, I will call you at 6 am every Saturday for the next 6 months.”

“Fine, will you at least talk to her? Maybe take your cup to the trash and ask if she’s doing anything this weekend. Just open the door, at least. You could tell her about Steve’s show tonight and take her instead of me.”

“No, you’re not getting out of this, and maybe tomorrow I’ll talk to her.”

“I’ll take it.” He thinks it feels like some kind of progress. He may not be the relationship type, but Nancy is only the relationship type, so maybe this yin and yang thing makes their friendship work. “Shit, don’t you have to go to work?”

“Oh shit, what time is it?” She turns her phone screen on, and her eyes go wide. “Fuck, yeah, I gotta go. I’ll meet you later tonight at 8. Text me if you can’t find it.” She kisses the top of his head and rushes out the door.

Eddie catches barista Robin’s shock on her face after Nancy’s affection toward his skull. He knows he shouldn’t meddle but can’t help himself. He gets up from the table and casually shuffles to the counter.

continue reading...

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steddie fanfic #my writing #steddiecameraroll posts #stranger things #musician steve harrington #tattoo artist eddie munson #fruity four

[oharamwah]

♡ — accidentally more than friends : you and lyla end up spending your entire day gossiping about your new work boyfriend. → 2.0k

boyfriend!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

contents : bff lyla, softie miguel, suggestive jokes, cursing, situationship (the good kind) — also i imply that miguel built lyla which i know canonically he didn’t but just let it slide :p

this idea came to me while i was trying to sleep oopsies

posted july 23rd - edited

© oharamwah , please do not steal my work

you’ve recently gotten into a relationship with your boss, miguel o’hara. well, situationship. it’s confusing, it’s sort of a will they, won’t they scenario. anyway — while the general public deem a staff member fraternizing with the boss as unprofessional, being romantically involved with miguel while working in the spider society was actually way simpler than it sounded.

it’s safe to say that you owe that liberty to the carelessness of it all. you see, this wasn’t the typical workplace. the spider-society is built up of over a hundred spider-people, why should they all focus on just you two?

it started when you created a habit of greeting miguel every morning, sometimes with two cups of coffee in your hands. it’s what you call a butterfly effect; what started off as a friendly gesture, slowly developed into “so what are you up to today?”’s and “tell me more about _,”’s. you may as well be crowned anomaly of the year, because no one has been able to get as close to miguel as you did. someone he actually felt he could chat comfortably and have a coffee with. this friendship escalated quickly though.

it was just innocently sending each other kind smiles behind closed doors, until it was impulsively making out in secret, only to then swear you’ll never do it again… you do. a lot.

and eventually, miguel starts inviting you over to watch a movie, and then to spend the night, cuddling each other to sleep “as friends.”

you both became accustomed to your little daily routine.

today, you wake up in miguel’s bed, but miguel isn’t there. you groggily reach over to his side of the mattress and feel around for his warmth, but you’re greeted with empty linen sheets. this was normal for miguel, he’d often leave for work without you as he had to be there everyday, you only a few times a week.

it takes you a minute to get up, your eyes are blurry from the shift in lighting and your legs are a bit weak (not like that). you shuffle your feet as you make your way to his kitchen to have a glass of water. and that’s when you notice — miguel left his watch on the dining table.

you recognize it — everyone at spider-society wears the same watch, but miguel’s is slightly different. on miguel’s watch is a small hologram display doohickey (you have no clue) which you know to be how miguel talks to lyla, his ai assistant.

you quickly grow curious of this. miguel never lets you mess around with his tools, let alone his own special crafted assistant. he was certain that if you and lyla ever crossed paths, it’d only end in you having a laughing fit and lyla glitching in excitement. not that he didn’t like when you laughed, he loves your laugh. just not when it’s about him.

you reflect for a moment. ‘it would be wrong to snoop and disobey your boss, y/n,’ you think to yourself. but the devil on your shoulder begs to differ.

‘but you’re special, right? he said you’re his favourite.’

‘but he specifically told you not to,’

it was a seemingly endless back and forth of you either checking out the watch or calling him to tell him he forgot it. but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.

in the midst of you fiddling around with the watch, a holographic screen pops up, making you jump.

“OMIGOSH, girl in miguel’s HOME!” a small voice says, squealing in excitement. “i have been dying to meet you,” it adds. you know that voice, it’s lyla.

“lyla? god miguel did an amazing job with you.” you praise, inspecting every inch of her outfit and hair.

she twirls around, her big fluffy coat forming a frilly umbrella and her pink heart shades twinkling as she did. “didn’t he? who knew he could create something so fabulous.” she joked. you chuckle.

“it’s so cool to finally talk to you,” you say with a sigh. your eyes are glued to lyla as you find a seat on miguel’s living room couch. “miguel never let me see you.”

“ugh, babes, he never let me see you! i’ve been waiting to find out who’s been raising his heart rate every morning.”

this information sends you into shock. his heart rate rises every morning? is it when he sees you? you feel your ears go warm at the tips and the redness begins spreading to your cheeks.

“his heart rate rises?” you ask, your interest in lyla skyrocketing. “what do you mean?”

“well, every morning around the same time, someone comes into miguel’s workspace and it gets him all excited if y’know what i mean.” lyla winks at you. you’re a little less convinced.

“oh please, he doesn’t get excited when he sees me.”

“sweetie, he so does. trust me, i have all his health stats.” she brags, a knowing smile on her face. your face warms up again. ‘he’s happy to see me,’ you think. you’re used to miguel being sweet to you, you have made out several times and he has accepted all your morning coffees. but to know that you yourself, you in your being, your presence was all it took for his heart to beat a little faster?

“what else do you know?” you inquire, too intrigued to leave it there. although you and miguel almost silently decided that you two were “just good friends” (who get awfully intimate) you just couldn’t help yourself. it’s a known fact that miguel can be a dick, but it’s also a known fact that he does not lack in the looks department.

miguel is an exceptionally tall man with an incredibly muscular build, and even though he isn’t trying, his hair falls perfectly on his head with only a few strands tickling his forehead. he has intense scarlet eyes that pierce through the eyes of any other, and it’s rare, but when he smiles, the warmth could bring you to melt.

moreover, he’s kind to you. he’s attentive, rarely ever letting you out of his sight. he’s humble, but he’s intelligent. he never fails to impress you with his quick thinking.

at least to you, he’s the most wonderful man you’ve ever known — though you are the only person who’s seen the softest of his soft side. you were lucky, you knew a good man under his thick skin.

the day you realized you were falling for miguel was just like any other day. you were at work, completing one of the training tasks miguel had set up for you. you found yourself at a particularly difficult step; you had to swing from pillar to pillar. sure, shouldn’t be a problem for spiderwoman, but webs were always your weak point, no matter how much you practiced. you had been at it for hours, so close to giving up and calling it a day, but someone approaches the doorway of the training room and clears their throat.

“need a hand there, spider?”

his grip was set on your waist and his face was just a little too close to yours that day. his hair smelled good, his hands were big and rough, but his touch was gentle. he’s clean shaven, his breaths were calm, he was patient with you.

so that brings you to where you are now: sitting on miguel’s couch while he’s at work, wearing nothing but your tiny shorts and one of his cotton tees, and you’re having the time of your life chit chatting with his ai assistant.

“so yeah,” lyla laughed, gasping for air. “he was just super gassy that day for no reason-“ she tried to continue, but you were interrupted by the faint sound of keypad beeps and the sound of the front door.

“hey, y/n i think i left my watch,” you hear miguel say. you and lyla give each other an “oh shit” look as miguel walks into the living room and sees you two, both sitting reaaaal comfortably.

“heeeyyy miguel!” lyla says, acting as if you two chatting was a normal everyday occurrence.

“y/n… did you.. are you..” miguel is too stunned to speak. it wasn’t a big deal really, for you and lyla to meet, but miguel knew lyla. he made her. he knew what type of cards she’d pull.

“miguel,” you say with a sheepish smile. “lyla and i were just.. catching up!” you excuse. miguel gives you a look. not one of anger or disappointment, just a “really.” look. he sighs and sits beside you.

“lyla, shut off.” he says, and lyla has no choice but to follow.

“she didn’t say anything weird, did she?” he asks. you can see his cheeks are slightly red and his eyebrows express slight worry. you shake your head. “noo..”

miguel knows you’re lying, and he sighs again, shaking his head and pinching his nose bridge. “what did she tell you?” he said, expecting the worst.

“well… she told me about that one day you couldn’t stop burping.” you confess. miguel groans which makes you laugh. you straighten your posture and place a hand on his broad shoulder.

“please, miguel it’s not bad! it happens to the best of us!” you laugh, trying to console the big tough guy who’s now sitting in his living room, embarrassed in front of the girl he likes.

he looks at you painfully, his cheeks even more red tinted than 30 seconds ago.

“if it makes you feel better..” you start, “she also told me something good about you.”

miguel furrows his brows and rests his chin on his palm, confused as to what kind of good news lyla could have. you smile shyly.

“she told me you get happier when you see me,” you say, your tone no longer teasing.

miguel exhales a small laugh, tilting his head at you. “she told you that?” he said with a small smile that almost says “yeah, right.”

you nod. “she said your heart beat rises when i come in,” you add. you’re beginning to think maybe you should be embarrassed. what if lyla was wrong?

miguel thinks for a second, staring into your eyes, his smile not fading.

“i guess the heart sensor doesn’t lie, huh,” he says, breaking his silence. “she’s not wrong.”

she isn’t? so it’s true?

“i do feel better when you’re with me.” he says, still not breaking the eye contact.

‘is it hot in here or is it just me…’

the atmosphere in the room is no longer awkward, but as if you and miguel are just chatting.

“you do?” you ask, still in doubt. ‘it can’t be..’

miguel nods. “why do you think i invite you over all the time? i like your company.”

now he’s just messing with you. no way all of this is true, right? you two are just good friends, right?

“miguel,” you sigh. fuck it.

“i like you miguel.”

miguel stays still. he’s still looking at you with those gorgeous scarlet eyes that you love, and the small smile on his face has grown into a bigger one.

“like, like like.” you add.

“oh, like like.” he says wittingly.

“i know you do, y/n.” he adds. scratch ‘humble’ off that list of traits you love…

“you didn’t think you could fool me with the amount of times you’ve mumbled my name in your sleep? or the amount of times you’ve come to my office just to ‘say good morning’?”

he does those stupid air quotes you hate.

“well…… yeah..” you say, your head hanging lower than before. you feel a little dumb.

miguel chuckles, “don’t worry, it’s cute,” he sighs. “you’re real cute, spider.” the nickname has a different feeling today. before, it wasn’t so special. you worked in the spider-society for gods sake. but for some reason, in this moment, you felt like the only spiderwoman in his entire world.

“i like like you too, y/n. incase i had you fooled.”

the day went on, miguel decided to stay home a little longer. a several hour exchange of lovely stories of realizing your shifts in feelings for each other and numerous sweet kisses followed your confessions.

will they, won’t they.

#atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara #spiderman atsv #miguel o’hara i love you #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara scenario #miguel ohara x reader

[hyuckbeam]

hit or miss

you’re given a bet by your own best friend to finally earn you some kissing experience at the ripe age of 18, but what if he’s the one you’ve been wanting to kiss all along?

pairing | bff!haechan x reader

genre | fluff, just a bit of angst

warnings | y/n uses she/her pronouns, both y/n and hyuck are dumdums! kind of slow burn, curse words are explicitly mentioned, cousin!winter, i think that’s all but lmk if i missed anything!

wc | 4.3k words

note | this is pretty inspired by the webtoon “the kiss bet” because i currently have a hyper fixation on it and i absolutely love all the characters ;0; this is also way longer than intended but anyways,, i hope u enjoy! all rbs and likes are appreciated, thank you <3

D-15.

“in three, two, one, happy birthday, y/n!” your best friend, haechan announces aloud for everyone in your apartment complex to hear at 12 in the morning.

“come on! make a wish before the candles blow out!” winter, your cousin, urges you with a big smile on her face.

having just finished your night time routine and prepared yourself for a night's worth of sleep, you were rather shocked to see them with one of those trendy bento cakes and rainbow colored party hats adorning their heads.

despite your confusion, you walk up towards them with a grateful smile resting upon your lips. “seriously, when did you guys plan this?”

“oh, it was all my- ow, hey!” haechan gets cut off midway through his statement because of a nudge from winter’s elbow.

“what he was trying to say was it was all my doing. you’re welcome bubs!” your cousin beams, eyes creasing into crescents. “though i’d wish you’d hurry up. this cake isn’t holding itself up for you, y’know?” she adds on rather playfully but you can tell she truly meant it.

gathering a deep breath, you blow out the candles and cheers erupt from the people you deem closest to you. winter then sets down the cake on your coffee table in relief as your best friend slings his arm over your shoulder.

“sooo y/n, got anything planned for the year? a small resolution or something like that, i don’t know.” he rambles off, suggesting the idea of having a goal to work towards now that you were deemed an adult (though, haechan kept referring to this as the year that marks your jail-ability era).

you feel a little tingly from his touch, even when you know the two of you are just friends and nothing more. what you’re feeling is probably just a phase. it’ll go away.

“i’m not really sure, got any ideas for me?” you ask the two instead, eyeing them both in a back and forth motion.

“we can always work on that dating experience of yours- last i remember, it was up to the high number count of… zero.” your cousin chips in from the side as she slices the cake for the three of you to share, her tone sarcastic while she teases you.

it’s true, you didn’t have a lot (re: any) of experience in the dating sector, but perhaps that could change starting this year. “that… might not be such a bad idea.”

haechan’s interest seems to have been piqued — he’s making that look. that specific expression where the corners of his lips turn upwards, a brow raised, and that glint in his eye. oh, you know it all too well.

“come on.” you urge the boy. “start sharing your idea. i can practically see your mind ready to explode.”

“well, since you’ve asked me ever so kindly. how ‘bout a bet?” he starts, taking a few steps towards you with that cocky expression of his. “i bet you 10 dollars to kiss someone in two months. not that hard, right?”

“what- you want me to kiss some random person for 10 bucks?” you gawk out in surprise.

he only shakes his head, “i never said it needed to be a stranger. just, someone in general.”

you processed the idea thoroughly, running all sorts of possible scenarios in your head. wouldn’t it be much easier to kiss… haechan himself? that just seemed like the most plausible approach for you.

he wasn't a stranger — the furthest from one. you were comfortable with him. the kiss didn’t have to mean anything (though it might mean a tiny bit more to you), and in addition, you’d be making some cash.

everything seemed to check out. the only problem was that you had to ask him to kiss you. still, surely this was better than any other alternative, right?

“i’ll do it but… can’t i just kiss you and get it over with?” you finally voice out your thoughts, pretending to make your question sound playful in case the request backfires on you.

“you’re my best friend, that’s a little odd, don’t you think so?” haechan replies in the same tone, lightly ruffling your hair before going over to retrieve a slice of cake from winter.

ouch. way to have your first bit of “dating experience” be your best friend… friend zoning you. what a lovely start to your 18th birthday.

D-13.

a few days had passed since the bet you made with haechan had been established, but not one ounce of progress had been made.

to be fair, how were you supposed to kiss someone else when all you’ve ever wanted was for that kiss to be with your best friend? that’s tough luck.

you attending classes today doesn’t really help with your thoughts either, especially when both haechan and winter had been asking about said progress one after the other.

you’d be lying if they weren’t starting to give you a headache.

as if on cue, winter approaches you, some lecture books in hand and her bag slung on her shoulder. “y/n! how’s your progress?” here we go again.

“just as i told you yesterday, nothing yet.” you reply with a small sigh.

winter senses the frustration behind your words, encouraging her to suggest ideas to help you. “how about finding someone you like? it might make it easier for you know… to kiss them.”

“i don’t think that’s still a good- actually, you might just be onto something, minjeong.” your gears start to churn in your mind. in order to wash haechan off your mind, you might as well find someone else and maybe get an actual relationship out of it.

the idea was just perfect for you.

“have i ever told you how much i love you? i gotta go but i’ll see you after class, winter!” you excitedly bid her a goodbye, rushing to your classroom so you could better plan out your new gameplan.

though the most ideal situation was long gone, you now had a back up plan and you weren’t going to back down so easily from the bet.

you were now busily scribbling on your notepad, forgetting that a new student was to transfer into your class today. the teacher calls upon your attention and as you look up, your eyes land on a boy with great resemblance to a cute bunny.

apparently he’s the new transfer student.

the teacher gives him a moment to introduce himself. “hello everyone, my name is na jaemin. i hope we all get along!” so that’s his name, you thought to yourself.

surprisingly, he was told to take the seat in front of yours, offering you a small smile and a curt wave, one that you gladly return, before he takes his seat.

actually, maybe you really could forget haechan for just a teensy bit.

D-6.

a week goes by without haechan seeing you once. an entire week. was he always this eager to see you? to bask in the warm sight that is you? he thinks he must be going crazy.

the only time he ever gets updates about you is through winter which aren’t much to go on. he does remember a key detail she mentioned previously about how you’ve been spending time with that new student, jaemin.

what was so special about him anyways? well, he was surely going to find out soon.

as the bell rings to signal the start of recess, he dashes out of his classroom, taking big steps towards yours.

there, haechan finds you in his seat and he’s about to approach you until he sees you’re in the middle of a conversation with the one and only, na jaemin.

“this is how you do this, right?” jaemin asks you, directing your sight to a piece of paper that has a bunch of math formulas written on it.

“yeah! i’m surprised you got that rather quickly.” you compliment the boy in front of you with a small laugh.

your thoughts on jaemin have changed drastically since the first time you met him. he’s a sweet boy, someone you could never take advantage of. it just felt wrong to you so you just dropped your entire plan as a whole.

it was alright to lose the bet. at least you kind of made a new friend out of it, right? you smile to yourself at that thought.

to haechan, however, your smile is so bright in jaemin’s presence, it’s practically blinding everyone in sight. have you ever smiled at him like that? wait- why does that matter?

he doesn’t like you, no way.

you’re best friends, yeah. his love for you is as platonic as can be — at least that’s what he tells himself.

for someone as bold as haechan, he can’t seem to find the confidence in him to walk towards your table and steal your attention. instead, he steps out of the classroom, unnoticed by you.

D-5.

“JAEMIN DID WHAT!?” haechan yells into his phone, winter being on the receiving end of the call.

the girl tuts, “scream one more time and i’m hanging up on you. and yes, i heard he confessed to y/n. i don’t think she gave him an answer though.”

“sorry, look, i was just really surprised.” a deep sigh comes out from haechan before the call goes silent. he takes the time to process the situation, but the idea of you and jaemin being together just rubs him off the wrong way.

“doesn’t she see how bad he is for her?” he finally reasons out.

“uhuh, in what sense exactly?” winter retorts.

“he’s probably just using her to gain attention or something! can’t i look out for my own best friend?” the response is laughable, even to haechan, but he goes along with it.

winter laughs into the call, “are you even hearing yourself? that’s pretty baseless, even for you haechan.” she replies shortly afterwards. “seems to me like you’re jealous.”

“are you hearing yourself, winter? no i’m not! get your head screwed on properly!” haechan answers back in the same incredulous manner as she did to him just a few seconds ago. “who would i even be jealous of?”

“jaemin. who else? i think it’s pretty clear to most. you aren’t that great at managing your feelings, y’know-” the girl’s voice cuts off for a second, “-oh, i’m being called to dinner now but seriously, get yourself together haechan. i know you like my cousin. bye!”

the line goes beep and haechan tosses his phone onto his bed. she really did just leave him hanging like that. how could she after bringing that idea up?!

jealous? not a chance. haechan never gets jealous.

D-4.

haechan wakes up the next day feeling tired, having not slept a wink after winter’s words kept replaying in his head.

i know you like my cousin.

you like my cousin.

you like her.

and these same words follow him as he makes it all the way to school. perhaps seeing you in school would help him understand his feelings better.

he really just wants this to be over with.

with trudged steps, he makes his way to your classroom and luckily enough for him, there you were already in class before the first bell rang.

he blames it on the lack of sleep but you look so ethereal sitting down in your chair as you bop your head lightly to the music that’s presumably playing on your earphones.

the sight is something to behold- that is until he pivots his head ever so slightly and sees jaemin accompanying you. god, why does he have to be there.

so maybe haechan does get jealous. sometimes.

maybe that’s why he acts without thinking, swiftly dragging you from your chair and out to the school courtyard despite your protests.

“hyuck let me go-” you grumble, tugging on your arm but he doesn’t budge one bit. it’s only when you reach a bench in the furthest part of the courtyard he decides to get go of your wrist.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” you scoff out in disbelief. “this is the first time we’ve spoken in days. i think you could’ve just asked me if you really wanted to talk.” with the addition of those words, haechan finally realizes what he’s done. he knows it was wrong but he isn’t going to back down from the argument that was brewing between you two.

“me? how about you? you’ve been so lovey dovey with mr. perfect all this time! don’t you have yourself to blame on why we haven’t seen each other in so long?” he spat out coldly.

your heart sinks, and yet, you can’t help but feel even more enraged. its true, you’re part of the reason for the lack of communication between you two. after all, communication is a two way system. but doesn’t that also mean he’s also to blame?

“i enjoy jaemin’s company a lot! is that so wrong?” you shoot back, biting your bottom lip before mumbling the latter part of your statement. “at least he isn’t as grumpy as the person standing in front of me.”

ouch.

the boy hears this and gets ticked off even more. maybe it really is the lack of sleep but he seriously can’t understand her reasoning anymore. instead, he assumes she’s just doing all of this for the bet.

“do you really want to win the bet so bad? if that’s what you want, just kiss me and be over with it. i’m literally letting you win. you can stop seeing jaemin now.”

and that’s when it hits you a little.

why is he bringing the bet up all of a sudden when you just want a genuine relationship with jaem- oh. he couldn’t possibly see you as someone like that right? he said it himself! he doesn’t like you and even denied your request to kiss him a few weeks ago.

but, if that were all true, what other explanation would there be to his actions?

he takes your silence as a no, prompting him to leave you in the courtyard all alone.

you couldn’t seem to understand him at all no matter how hard you tried.

as soon as you got home from classes that same day, you rushed yourself back home and into the comfort of your bed and pillows — treating them as if they were your closest confidants and cried while you shared your troubles.

it wasn’t productive on your end but it was much needed for you to at least think straight. you’d been bottling your contemplations all day long after all.

here you are laying lifeless on your bed, using all your braincells to dicern what the fuck happened earlier this morning.

you know haechan doesn’t like you. you’ve said it to yourself so many times now.

maybe he’s just jealous you’ve been spending more time with jaemin because, although you have different intentions before, you realized you couldn’t see him in that way nor had the heart to just use him for your own gain.

haechan was a different story though. you feel flushed just thinking about him, knowing full well the both of you are in the middle of an argument between each other.

remembrance of the frustration hits, making you groan at the thought of having to remedy it. if you and haechan had anything in common, it would be the stubbornness you both share.

the last time you both got into an argument this big was back in junior high. neither of you spoke to the other for an entire month. it got so bad that both your parents had to call each other up to devise a way to get an apology out from the both of you.

though it would make the entire situation much easier, your parents no longer delve into these types of problems — and neither do haechan’s. you’re both all alone to fix this one yourselves and you wish you’d been more grateful to your parents for mending your relationship with haechan.

deep down, you already know the both of you will struggle to find the right timing, but you certainly hope that day would come soon. you didn’t exactly like being away from him either (even if he made you feel like shit for the rest of the day).

you decide to sleep off your worries for the night, hoping and praying that tomorrow would be a better day for you.

D-3.

tomorrow is not any better of a day.

jaemin and haechan both invited you to eat with them for lunch which quickly escalated into a light argument between the two. you couldn’t even bring yourself to butt into their conversation, seeing how they were fighting over something so silly.

“i’m her best friend, we do this pretty much everyday!” you hear haechan yell at jaemin, his frustration for the other getting the best of him. “plus, i need to talk with her. without you.”

“if the two of you are just best friends, then what gives you the right to dictate her answers?” jaemin fires back, keeping a calm and collected appearance throughout.

this shuts haechan up and the entire cafeteria goes dead silent. oh boy, did you want to curl up into a little hole. everyone was staring and you didn’t like that one bit.

nevertheless, you decided to be the bigger person — uttering a small apology to jaemin before walking off to the table you usually sat at with haechan — the latter following you a few steps behind.

neither of you speak as you begin to eat your separate meals, another sign the relationship between you two was starting to fade out into dust.

winter joins your lunch table shortly after witnessing the drama unfold, she looks at haechan with an unreadable expression and the boy stays quiet during the whole meal.

didn't he say he wanted to talk? an apology for the day before would have been nice.

you get fed up by the silence, placing your food back on the tray before picking it up. you mutter a quiet “i can’t seem to understand you at all.” directed at hyuck before leaving and switching over to the table where jaemin and his friends are sitting.

it all happened too fast and haechan didn’t realize you were leaving until you already did. he really did want to talk but how was he supposed to do that after having that situation with jaemin?

he wanted to calm down first but you had other plans. you really left him in shambles this time.

winter can’t help but sigh at the ongoing conflict. she silently wishes she wasn’t involved this much if it was going to turn out like this.

D-2.

haechan knows he truly has to make it up to you (including a long overdue explanation of why he’s been acting weirdly the past few days) but doesn’t know how to do that. apologies never came easy to him. his mind couldn’t help but go blank everytime he tried thinking of a way to approach you without making things more complicated than they already are.

the sheer amount of times he’s hit a brick wall has him calling the only person who probably knows more about you than he, himself, does.

he picks up his phone, searching through his contacts before landing on a single person, now waiting for the phone to ring.

“hello?” winter’s voice reaches him through the call. “i knew you’d call after what happened at the cafeteria.”

it takes a moment for haechan to answer, “maybe if jaemin wasn’t so aggressive–”

“you both were. now spill, have you gotten your feelings sorted yet?” the girl pushes his dramatics aside, getting straight to the point.

“i… think i do. you were right all along.” haechan finishes. although it was hard for him to admit at first, now that he’s actually said it out loud, it might be the first time he’s been feeling a sense of clarity after so long.

winter hums at his confession. “at least you’re finally taking a step in the right direction. now, to win her back…” she smiles to herself, already having a plan in mind.

you, on the other hand, have been seeing haechan and winter together often for the past week. naturally, your mind begins to wonder if your own cousin is the reason why haechan rejected you way back during your small birthday celebration.

the evidence matches up pretty well — he probably couldn’t reject you directly because she was in the room with the two of you that day. he isn’t spending as much time with you anymore because he’s spending time with her.

they look good together.

those words linger in your head more than you’d like to admit.

you feel cast aside by the people you’ve known practically your entire life but you don’t have much of a choice but to return to jaemin’s company. after all, you chose to eat the rest of your lunch at his table instead of the one that brought familiarity to you.

D-DAY.

day after day, the two of you just seemed to grow even more distant and you wondered if the end of your long-term friendship was nigh approaching. you barely saw him roaming through the halls of campus anymore, much less your cousin.

you didn’t dislike the new friend group you had (jaemin introducing you to his friends after you finally told him about your situation with haechan, but you couldn’t help but feel… dissatisfied with your current situation.)

as your class ends, you prepare yourself for another silent walk home. despite having those new friends, you felt lonelier than you ever had. you missed them. you missed him. and yet, life seemed to have other plans for you.

even trudging down these halls filled with other students made you lonely.

truthfully, you would do anything to have them back- a pain to your forehead snaps you out of your thoughts. you had bumped into someone. well, not just someone, but the person you’ve been longing for the most.

haechan. he was right in front of you after who knows how long it’s been.

you felt like crying on the spot but held in your emotions to appear like your life was anything but lost. haechan knew that look on your face, presuming you haven’t been well ever since the two of you have spoken. he takes your hands that have slumped to your sides into his, and the small gesture reminded you of the warmth he’d bring into your life.

“are you up for a short conversation perhaps?” you only nod and he takes that as a signal in the right direction, though, he isn’t used to you acting around him like this. oh boy, this was going to be more than a short conversation.

haechan leads you into the gymnasium and the two of you sit down by the bleachers with no sight of other students in the area.

“before you get mad- i wanted to apologize first. i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. i was childish.” he begins, holding eye contact with you to show his sincerity. “frankly, i was jealous. jealous you spent more time with jaemin, and you seemed to enjoy you time with him more than the times we hang out together. i shouldn’t have made you feel sad in any way, but i did and that’s completely my fault. i’m sorry.” you know his words hold both his feelings and the truth.

he wasn’t going to lie to you. he never once did during the time you knew each other.

however, what he admitted to had you flustered.

he was jealous of you and jaemin? it was a little hard to believe until you remembered the latter confessed to you the past week. oh god, did word of that spread out? nevermind that, what happened between you and jaemin was the least of your worries, the boy in front of you was. what if haechan got the wrong idea from the rumors?

“it’s not completely your fault. we both were pretty stubborn.” you reply, a soft chuckle leaving your lips to ease the tension between you two. “and if… if you’re curious, i never returned jaemin’s feelings back.

haechan gets pretty taken aback by your statement, now wondering why you brought it up. “oh… i know.”

“you knew? did winter tell you?” you question in anticipation. “i guess the both of you are pretty close now.”

“she did but i swear our friendship is nothing like that!” it was his turn to get flustered. “she could never replace your spot in my life.”

“i’m a little confused though after all of this…” you gesture out, referring to the situation that has just recently moved past you two. “what spot do i even have?”

he pauses, taking his time to think of the right words he wants to tell you but they all get stuck in his throat. the expression on your face showed how you took his silence negatively, prompting him to speak. “i like you. i couldn’t admit it even to myself for the longest time and-” having enough of his rambling, you inch a little closer and give him a kiss on the lips.

it’s brief, and yet, it continues to linger on his lips. “you kissed me.”

“why do you think i never gave jaemin an answer to jaemin’s confession?”

“so you were really saving it for me? i’m honored.” he chuckles out, playfully holding his hand to his chest.

“well, you should be.” you add on with the same bright smile he’s seen you flash at jaemin, except this time, it was absolutely for him.

“i guess that also means you won the bet?” he recalls, a brow raising at you.

you give him a light nudge on his shoulder while suppressing a giggle, “oh, shut up and just kiss me. you owe me 10 bucks by the way.”

tags !!

#—hyuckbeam #nct fluff #nct angst #haechan #haechan fluff #haechan angst #nct #nct aus #fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct x reader #nct dream drabbles #nct dream aus #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst

[kaisfruit]

junkrat x lucio wholesome hcs PLEEAASEEE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏

Boombox (Junkrat x Lucio) Wholesome HCs

A/N: IK THIS SAYS ANON BUT THIS IS MY BFF YALL THX U FOR REQUESTING POOKIE ILY <333 also this just kinda turned into boombox hcs in general im srry qwq warnings: junkrat is his own warning that's it

I'm just in love with them. I need to get over that first before I type ANYTHING

anyways-

Lucio staying up with Junkrat when Jamison is really into whatever he's working on at the moment

To be honest, seeing Lucio get tired makes him feel a bit bad and it ends with them both going to bed bc it's okay if Jamie is sleep deprived but it can't be his fault that Lucio is as well. That won't do at all!

And i see a lot of ppl being like "Lucio helps calm Jamie down <3"

BFFR

Lucio is an enabler.

Junkrat: BABE! WANNA SEE HOW MANY BOMBS IT TAKES FOR ME TO PASS OUT FROM SMOKE INHALATION? <3

Lucio: Hell yeah. Lemme get my phone

No one else is allowed to find the video funny tho

That's right. Lucio def notices how everyone in OW treats Jamie (idc im projecting here. WHY IS EVERYONE SO MEAN TO HIM IDC IF HE'S A CRIMINAL HE'S FUNNY)

DVa can maybe find it a bit funny, but that's cuz she gets BFF privileges

Lucio constantly hitting Junkrat with the "hold on, this song reminds me of you-"

Eventually he just makes a whole playlist

Junkrat has it blasting constantly in his workshop

That or he has every song by Lucio on shuffle

Now, Jamison's,,,talent,,, is a bit harder to show affection with

It took Lucio a long time to really grasp Jamie's love language, but now he knows that 99% of the time that Junk's bombs towards him are romantic

The other 1% are accidents and Lucio is the only person Junkrat apologizes to

He doesn't even do that for Roadhog, so this is a very rare honor

Junkrat is so on board with Lucio being a freedom fighter

"HELL YEAH! fuck the government! down with the enforcer! BLOW THEM UP!"

The enthusiasm is much appreciated, but Lucio does have to explain in detail what he's really fighting for

Junkrat's chaotic nature is just on board with anything

And, despite being the resident yapper of overwatch, he really does like listening to lucio telling him abt things he wasn't aware of while being in Australia

Lucio's telling him so ofc it has GOT to be important, yk?

Sorry this is all just such word vomit. They're my two mains and I just....love them both sm i cant

They're just such a chaotic duo together

Like yeah, Lucio is a pretty chill guy but god does Jamison bring out the worst in him sometimes. They're perfect for eachother

On the rare occasion, Lucio can get Junkrat to settle down long enough for cuddles <3 ofc the lad is still a bit twitchy but it helps him realize that maybe this isn't so bad

Lucio shows Junkrat a kind of love Jamison has never seen before and Junkrat helps Lucio learn that it's okay to lose his cool sometimes

They just compliment each other so well

TL;DR Lucio and Junkrat are so good for each other I will throw hands over this

#overwatch #ow2 #junkrat #jamison fawkes #lucio correia dos santos #overwatch lucio #overwatch junkrat #boombox ow #boombox overwatch #junkrat x lucio #overwatch headcanons

[lafleshlumpeater]

being besties w/ Luci would include?- (God I feel like I'll get a lot of opposition from everyone because a lot of followers and you love marauders but oh well)

: ̗̀➛ ꜱᴏ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ?

ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗ, ᵃ ᵗʳᵒᵖᵉ, ᵃ ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵖʳᵉᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ'ˡˡ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃ ᵇˡᵘʳᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ!!

lucius malfoy masterlist remus lupin masterlist

"And then, the lupin boy had the audacity to talk me down! 'you're not the only prefect around here, malfoy,' he said. the sheer disrespect!" lucius exclaimed.

the corners of your mouth twitched upwards. "how very dare he!" you tried to sound as genuine as possible, but to be honest, you found the whole ordeal hilarious.

"i know! and-" he paused for a second and sighed. "you find this funny, don't you."

your eyes glistened with mirth. "no," you continued to almost mock your best friend, continuing to braid his unnaturally platinum- blond hair. " i think it's... quite... uhm...." you try to hold your laughter in in vain, eventually letting go of his precious locks to cover your face as you snorted into your hands. "oh my god, malfoy, you are so pathetic."

"i am not pathetic!" he exclaimed in protest. "just because he's friends with them, if he wasn't he would get them in so much trouble, detentions every day-"

"hey, leave remus alone, he's done nothing to you!"

"please, just because you have a crush on him!"

lucius was muttering angrily after you had heard him practically yell the common room password and marched into the dungeons, and when you had asked him what was wrong you had expected for him to say anything except for begin to rant about one of your classmates-nearly-mates, mates. who you also happened to have a tiny crush on. but that was besides the point.

you scoffed in retaliation. "just because he got a higher mark than you in the last arithmancy test."

"you didn't deny your little crush." he ignored the snide comment directed towards himself and mocked you instead.

"i don't like him," i murmured, concentrating at the task at hand to ignore the fact you were blushing slightly. "and shut up, you're ruining your hair."

"ow!" he muttered mock- angrily as you pulled a lock of his hair. "watch how i embarrass you in front of him tomorrow."

"you watch i don't cut your hair off in your sleep, malfoy."

"i know you wouldn't, love."

he was teasing you for the nickname remus had oh-so-casually called you when asking for an extra quill the day before, and you had blushed the hardest you'd ever had before even processing what he had asked for.

cringing internally, you were quick to snap at lucius, but it was all in good intentions- that was how you two worked.

"shut up!"

"i didn't hear you complaining when he called you that," he drawled. you slapped his hands away from where they were prodding and poking at his hair, trying to figure out what style you were doing.

"leave off, you absolute menace," you hiss. "that's different."

lucius was about to come up with another witty retort when barty threw a book at the two of you from where he was trying to sleep on the sofa, his arm sprawled across his face. "shut up, both of you. i'm trying to sleep, you're worse than regulus and bellatrix."

"shut up, barty," the two of you parroted in unison.

"just because evan left you for a 'puff girl," you snorted.

this time it was an inkwell which you dodged, well- practised at the sport. "try again, my friend."

"or DON'T!" lucius practically shrieked as he failed to avoid a cushion which you smirked at. "shut up, you."

"i didn't say anything."

"yeah, well.. shut up."

"yessir."

"... don't let cissa hear you saying that."

you and barty gasped.

"malfoy!"

"ooh, kinky," barty smirked.

you flipped him off in response. "shut up."

lucius smirked. "i mean, is he wrong?"

"ooh, scandalously kinky!"

"SHUT UP, CROUCH!"

barty features bc he's my bff

anyways hope you like this<3

(i hate adding tags to things sm smh)

taglist: @kimorna @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

#marauders era #marauders era thoughts #marauders #marauders thoughts #the marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #moony #lucius malfoy x reader #malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy thoughts #lucius malfoy x reader platonic #lucius malfoy fic #lucius malfoy x reader fic #lucius malfoy blurb #lucius malfoy imagine #lucius #malfoy #lucius imagines #lucius malfoy imagines #remus lupin thoughts #remus lupin imagines #slytherin reader #lucius malfoy x best friend reader #lucius malfoy x platonic reader #lucius malfoy platonic #platonic x reader #platonic #best friend reader

[iheartpeppino]

Heya! Saw your headcanons post.

This is very unoriginal ik but what is Peppino's relationship with the rest of the pizza tower cast like in your headcanon? Like friendship wise? Has he befriended the bosses to an extent or is he still sus of them all XD

I hope you don't mind if I cover more than just the bosses!

Gustavo: I can't decide whether Gustavo has known Peppino for a long time, or if he only just met him during the events of Pizza Tower. Either way, assisting Peppino with Brick's help has been a bonding experience. Gustavo and Peppino are BFFs post-Tower. I see them having a queer-platonic relationship if they don't decide to outright date each other. I can see Gustavo having a hard time understanding Peppino and his emotions until Peppino opens up to him. Gustavo has never been traumatized the way Peppino has... but he has a good heart and wants to help him to the best of his ability. Peppino is grateful to have someone as loyal and kind as Gustavo to keep him anchored, even if he occasionally gets frustrated with his ignorance.

Brick: Peppino hated rats before he met Brick. Post-Tower, however, he's come to appreciate them. Brick is not only very handy in the kitchen (don't tell the health inspector), he's been known to cuddle Peppino when he's anxious to try and comfort him. Brick is a rat, but he's treated more like a house cat who also happens to be able to cook. Peppino likes him well enough.

Mr. Stick: Nothing has changed about Peppino's relationship with Mr. Stick. Stick continues to try and scam more money out of Peppino, or even outright STEAL it. Peppino doesn't fall for any of it or let Mr. Stick get away with it unless he genuinely needs something Stick has. Scott Stick is a greedy asshole who preys on desperate people like Peppino to make a profit. I like him a lot, don't get me wrong, but he's an asshole.

Pepperman: Everyone's favorite artistic pepper made a killing with his art after the Tower fell, and even got to star in a movie with The Noise later when the Tower was rebuilt. Despite his already large ego growing larger as a result, Pepperman knows he owes at least SOME of his newfound popularity to Peppino. Had Peppino never fought him, or destroyed the Tower in the first place, Pepperman would have remained an undiscovered talent, only making art of himself for himself. So whenever Pepperman is around the chef, he's a little nicer to him than he is to everyone else. In fact, he's even asked Peppino to model for him sometime so that he can make art of him. Peppino thinks Pepperman is way too full of himself, but other than that, he's not really a bad guy. Plus his art is actually pretty good quality. However, he's way too anxious to model for him... Peppino doesn't think very highly of himself, insecure about his physical appearance, so he'd feel way too exposed to model for an art project. That doesn't mean he can't change his mind, though...

The Vigilante: While they certainly had their differences at first, The Vigilante realizes now that Pizzaface/Pizzahead had lied to him about Peppino's intentions. Vigi knows now that Peppino is a good person who was just trying to save his already-struggling business. As someone who knows the meaning of hard work and responsibility, tending to his grandpa's farm, Vigi understands why Peppino had acted so desperately and violently, even if it resulted in the Tower's collapse and an initial loss of the farm. It's safe to say Vigi likes Peppino these days, even respects him. Peppino gets along well with Vigi as a result. They're not quite friends... yet... but they're cool with each other.

The Noise: Peppino and The Noise have been rivals for as long as Peppino has been running his pizzeria, and their rivalry has only continued post-Tower. Said rivalry got way more heated after The Noise made a movie based on the events of the Tower, re-writing the story so that The Noise was the hero, and with Fake Peppino being passed off as the actual Peppino. Peppino was pissed and tried to beat The Noise up for this, but The Noise convinced him not to by promising to release a second version of the film where he and Peppino are working together as partners. Peppino agreed to this compromise... only to be insulted yet again when The Noise hired Peppino's nasty brother, Maurice, to play Peppino's role. (Originally, Gustavo had been asked to play himself, but when Gustavo found out Maurice was playing Peppino, he said, "Absolutely not!" The Noise was forced to hire some random guy to play Gustavo.) Needless to say, Peppino and The Noise are NOT getting along very well right now. A shame, since they actually did seem to be getting friendlier BEFORE The Noise decided to make a movie, but the little gremlin fucked that all up completely just for the sake of more money and fame.

Noisette: Peppino used to find Noisette extremely irritating due to her being... well, oblivious. However, they've actually gotten to hang out more since the Tower first fell. She's still irritating, but Peppino tolerates it a lot more now. He's even starting to understand why The Noise is dating her. Truthfully, even if Noisette is oblivious, she isn't malicious or ill-intentioned. She's actually one of the nicest, most loving people Peppino knows... at least when she's not pissed off at The Noise for doing or saying something stupid. Then she's absolutely terrifying... not that he blames her. He doesn't understand what Noisette sees in The Noise, and has even asked her once before. Her answer surprised him: "He makes me laugh!" Peppino asked if that was all. "Do I need any other reason to love someone? It's really all I need to be happy." The Noise is very aware he doesn't deserve Noisette... but he loves her, even if he has trouble admitting it.

Fake Peppino: Well... Fake Peppino has been adjusting relatively well to the outside world after the Tower fell. He made a hideaway not far from Peppino Pizza, a sort of replica of Peppino Pizza 2, constructed from trash and scraps he'd found. Every day, he'd open his trash pizzeria for business, and go about his day as if he was the real Peppino. Making pizza from whatever he could find. Even taking out the trash into the same alleyway the real Peppino took his trash into. It was... awkward for both of them. Then The Noise made his movie where HE got to be the Real Peppino, and... he suddenly had acceptance from literally everyone around him. He had fans! People were asking for his autograph. The actual Real Peppino wasn't thrilled... he wasn't angry, just... kind of helpless, since he figured Fake Peppino deserves to be happy after everything he's been through, so he can't actually get mad without looking like an asshole. He did, however, complain to The Noise. The Noise's second version of his movie clarified that Fake Peppino and Peppino Spaghetti were actually two different people... except now everyone thinks FUCKING MAURICE is Peppino. Fake Peppino can now stand on his own through his newfound popularity as a movie star, with his own identity, rather than borrowing Peppino's. Peppino is begrudgingly happy for his fake, but GOD DAMMIT HE HATES THE NOISE AND MAURICE SO GODDAMN MUCH, HOLY SHIT.

Pizzahead: There is no easy way to say this. Pizzahead has a problem, and it's Peppino-shaped. Pizzahead, once Totino the Pizza Boy, is completely obsessed with Peppino. He stalks him regularly, often in disguise. He's hellbent on replicating Peppino's pizza-making methods and capitalizing on his image so he can be rich and successful like when he was younger. Originally, this stemmed from jealousy. But the more Pizzahead spied on Peppino and went to extreme lengths to replicate his cooking process, the more that obsession blossomed into a full-on crush. Not that Pizzahead will ever admit it. If you ask him about it, he'll deflect and deny it completely. Peppino, meanwhile, HATES Pizzahead after what he tried to do his pizzeria. Pile-driving him into the tower was the most satisfying thing he'd ever done in his entire life. He's vaguely aware he's being watched, but has no idea it's Pizzahead. Peppino is so paranoid, he keeps a revolver in his house behind a glass case. Though chances are, if he does see Pizzahead again, he's simply going to beat the crap out of him the moment he shows his face. (And Pizzahead will LOVE fighting back... fighting Peppino is super FUN for him!!)

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #headcanons #mine #pizza tower gustavo #pizza tower brick #mr stick #pepperman #the vigilante #the noise #noisette #fake peppino #pizzahead

[jamiesfootball]

I knew the forgiveness line was gonna split the audience, because it gets touted out in a lot of dramas (usually without the hours of therapy and explaining it deserves). And yes, Ted did make the (important) distinction of it not being for Jamie’s dad but it being for him-

-but I also appreciate that it was front loaded with his mom reassuring Jamie that he shouldn’t feel like he owes anything to that man, that his dad has always been a toerag, and that jamie doesn’t have to feel guilty about anything that happens. Because that part’s important too.

I wanted James Tartt as far the fuck away from Jamie as possible. He’s in rehab, and he hasn’t spoken to Jamie in over a year. Good enough. (I would have preferred prison but fine, away. Fuck that man)

Jamie is… soft now. He’s allowed to be soft. And even though he doesn’t want his dad back, even though he is clearly still struggling to process Wembley (and fuck that hurts too), he wants to know where he stands with Freddy Krueger and his hands full of knives.

Forgiveness is not an invitation for the people that hurt you to return; it’s a cessation of the arms you held up for years waiting for them to come back and hurt you again. It’s not forgetting; it’s accepting that something awful happened and that being angry won’t undo the fact that it happened.

It doesn’t make what happened to Jamie okay. And it doesn’t mean he’s expected to brush it off and move on like nothing happened. And it definitely does not mean he owes the man a cent of his time. But he owes it to himself to not carry his anger for that angry man like it’s the only guiding torch he’s got. And he’s got plenty of people in his corner now, who are gonna help him and protect him if that text doesn’t work out. So yeah, let him lay down his weapons against his dad. Let him rest. Let him find out what happened to the monster under the bed. And then let him move on, with the people who love him.

Also something something the only way to defeat Freddy Krueger is to wake up from your nightmares. James Tartt was his fucking nightmare. 4 am is when you’re weakest. Roy Kent is training him in the middle of the night when he’s weakest. 4 am is the best time to beat bullies with ropes dipped in red paint. Jamie can feel safe, because his sadist mentor coach BFF- you all know where I’m going with this

#and if James Tartt ever shows up again - rehab or not - it’s the fucking red paint ropes for him #fucking hell the episode cut deep #there’s a lot of lot to unpack #for the record - I look forward to everyone’s takes on how jamie handles this going forward #i especially look forward to all the fics that are going to be Roy Kent going ‘fuck forgiveness actually’ #because that shits gonna be cathartic as fuck #and that’s why your friends and your therapists are two different people folks #the therapist tells you what is technically the right way to process emotions #but your friends help you feel everything so you can get there #ted lasso spoilers #jamie tartt

[jtl-fics]

i just want you to know that I've started watching The Fantastic Race (I'd never heard of it before) and i too cannot stop imagining Andreil in it.. but also a Foxes/Exy only edition.

like, one is Foxes only, 10 teams, either with some of the freshmen, or while Seth is still alive/in an AU where he survives.

one is Andreil against other Americans where they dominate everything

and one is Andreil, Kevin/jeremy, riko/jean, and some other teams from other American Exy teams

i will eat this thing upppp!! please write it, i beg of you lmao

I do love me some Amazing Race. I think I could give you a Miracle Year of Collegiate Exy version of the Amazing Race.

I think maybe after their initial run through and victory Neil and Andrew are like absolute fan favorites and even though Neil, Andrew, nor the show ever say it there is a general belief that Neil and Andrew got together BECAUSE of the show. Any follow-up publicity on it has Neil and Andrew just staring at the camera like "Are u for fucking real?"

The thing with these shows is that fan favorites get asked to go back ALL the time and Neil gets a lot of very lucrative sponsorships that make the Moriyamas VERY happy after it.

They offer the same deal, a cut on the % that they will take from earnings and this time it's just for competing and this time it's a deal given to. They want the Miracle Generation of the Foxes to come and if every one does then Ichirou will lower Neil, Jean, and Kevin's %s owed to 50% (Maybe the deals are that good, maybe Ichirou is a big fan of the show, maybe he has a finger in it's production. This is mostly just like rationale on why the fuck they'd all do this. Especially Neil and Andrew since like Andrew had a bad time on those planes).

Either way not a single Fox disagrees. Arrangements are made for everyone's kids / pets. Shit is talked.

The Miracle Generation Race is ON.

The Teams are As Follows:

(Fox) Neil Josten & Andrew Minyard (Orange) (Dating)

(Fox) Kevin Day & David Wymack (Green) (Father-Son)

(Fox) Dan Wilds-Boyd & Matt Wilds-Boyd (Yellow) (Married)

(Fox) Allison Reynolds & Renee Johnson (Pink) (BFFs)

(Fox) Aaron Minyard & Katelyn Minyard (Blue) (Engaged)

(Fox) Nicky Klose & Erik Klose (Purple) (Married)

(Trojan) Jean Moreau & Jeremy Knox (Red) (Dating)

(Raven) Johnson & Reacher (Black) (Friends)

(Trojan) Alvarez & Laila (White) (Dating)

(Raven) Thea Muldani & Jenkins (Teal) (Friends)

(Penn) Penn State Coach & Penn State Captain (Grey) (Friends? IDK I ran out of people to be honest and thought well maybe we just have some throwaway team to lose first)

One of the funnier things I could do with that is that this Miracle season is also fan favorite season too and they want the cast to come back but no one can be with their same partner again. So you get shit like Neil and Jean, Jeremy and Andrew, Allison and Kevin, Renee and Aaron, Wymack and Nicky, etc.

#Neil and Andrew are like 'yeah we're not trying that hard' #but then Aaron and Katelyn pass them at a Detour and it's like 'Oh fuck that running.' and proceed to have the MOST insane rivalry #Neil and Andrew actually trying because they just can't tolerate any of their friends / family beating them #Like it was FINE last season they just had to do pretty well and Ichirou would be fine with it #This season? It's fucking PERSONAL. #Catch Allison nailing any and all of those fashion related ones #Renee always is a hit with the locals and can get anywhere easily #Matt just has the MUSCLE to be able to just force through the challenges #Dan's unyielding spirit pushes them past their most difficult challenges #Nicky and Erik flat out just have the benefit of being EU citizens #Aaron and Katelyn have a thirst for blood because they have medical school debt to pay off #Honestly the foxes have already decided that they get the reward money but they're not TELLING THEM THAT #The Ravens are the race heels #Like full on fuck those guys #Is the energy everyone has #At one point Allison just flat out pays one of their taxis to go to the wrong place #Thea keeps trying to talk to Kevin and everyone keeps getting in the way of that #They broke up like a year beforehand and it's AWKWARD (tm) but Kevin is doing so much better now #All for the Race (A Season of Miracles) AU #AFTG #AFTG AU #The Palmetto State Foxes

[psychicreadsgirl]

Could you please do how the members view taehyung as well like you did for jungkook?

I won't list names but these are just the "thoughts" that I sense from other members about Taehyung these days.

"He's fat. He should really work out."

"He's so lazy and oblivious. I don't know why people can't see that."

"I wonder if he can read a difficult novel."

"I wonder what people would say if they knew how crazy he was or angry..."

"He needs to stop smoking." - this is also a repeat thought from other members.

"I like his voice."

"He has a nice voice but when he sings it's like hell to my ears."

"He cannot sing."

"He's off key a lot."

"He has smelly feet." - this is repeated a lot from other members.

"He has bad breath."

"He used to be chill but I dunno what got to him. Fame?"

"I prefered him a few years ago. Now he's a mess."

"I rarely see him at the office anymore.. Wonder what he's up to these days."

"I hope he pays this time when we go out.. Last time I spent XXXX and he keeps saying he'll pay next time . . . but then he forgets his wallet. So convenient."

"I wish he'd stop hanging out with his actor friends. They suck."

"I wonder what happened to his acting shit. Oh ... he probably pissed them all off."

"He can't write songs."

"He's funny."

"His fashion is decent but some days it's weird."

"His temper . . . "

"He used to be so innocent . . . "

"He can't act."

"Think he'd be better off dubbing stuff instead of like singing but then he can't really pronounce stuff decently sometimes . . . but he looks good so he has that to live with."

"He's handsome" - repeated thought from others.

"He's good looking but that's about it. The insides are rotten." - repeated thought from a few members.

"He has good proportions." - repeated thought from several members

"Does he brush his teeth? I don't remember him brushing much in the past..."

"He needs to pay me back. He owes me XXXXX." - from a few members.

"He said he'd join the military with me.... I wonder if he's lying now."

"He has bad table manners and he's so messy. He never cleans."

"I'm sick of acting like we're BFFs...when we're not."

"He needs to get his shit together.."

"I actually like his singing voice but too bad he doesn't apply himself. That lazy mofo."

#kpop predictions #celebrity readings #psychic readings #general readings #friendship readings #bts #bangtan boys #kim taehyung #bts v #v #bangtan #hybe #hybe labels #taehyung #psychic #psychic reading #psychic readers #psychic reader

[krystaldeath]

Do have any headcanons on a Silktea wedding?

OKAY. ANON. I CANNOT APOLOGIZE ENOUGH FOR HOW LONG IVE MADE YOU WAIT FOR THIS. YALL. THIS ASK WAS SENT ON VALENTINES DAY. ITS BEEN ABOUT HALF A YEAR. I AM SO SO SO SORRY.

Anyways uuuhhh Silktea wedding hc’s :)):

* I know I’ve talked about this before but: flowers in Hunt’s hair and Sandy’s beard! Sandy also has his Mohawk laid down to one side and it looks very pretty

* Mo is the ring bearer

* MK and Mei are the flower people (it wasn’t planned originally but they drag Redson into it as well) ((part of me wants Goliath to also be a flower person but that’s simply way too many. But maybe he just carried the traffic light trio as they throw petals around lol))

* Spider Queen planned the whole thing (and she took in to account Sandy’s interests and aesthetics as well! Idk how she makes it (spider hunter and cat & tea loving sailor-therapist) work but I believe she can do anything)

* Pigsy is Sandy’s best man, ofc. I’m a bit conflicted on if Spider Queen or Goliath should be Hunt’s best man/maid of honor… hmmm…

* You decide lol

* Syntax programs a bunch of spider bots to serve as waiters/servers of sorts (MK takes some time getting used to them)

* He even made a robot cat as a wedding gift. Mo takes some time getting used to it

* Sandy cries. When he sees Hunts, at random intervals during the ceremony, at Hunt’s vows, at his own vows, etc you get the picture

* Hunt’s also cries during both vows, albeit a bit more subtlety than Sandy

* I think they both have bouquets. When they toss them each one goes to Spider Queen and Scorpion Demoness. They look to each other and smile softly (VENOMQUEEN WEDDING? VENOMQUEEN WEDDING!)

* Ofc all kinds of tea are served, but the kind Sandy originally gave Hunts is considered the Special Tea of the event

* Hunts: You know, food gifting is considered an act of courting in spider society Sandy: Really? Then I guess this was a long time coming then, huh? ^u^ Hunts, softly smiling: Yes, I suppose it was…

* A bit past the time I would probably put this but Hunts has to jump into Sandy’s arms to kiss him bc of the height difference lol. Syntax will never let him live this down

* Pigsy caters, ofc. Everyone is very well fed

* Let’s say Chang’e meets Sandy at some point and makes the wedding cake. How does it get from the moon to the earth? Idk, teleportation or something I just think they deserve a Chang’e cake (while on that topic let’s say she made the cake for the Freenoodles wedding too bc her and Pigsy are cooking bffs)

* Spider Queen couldn’t be happier for Hunts, even if he’s marrying a friend(?) of Sun Wukong’s

* Speaking of that monkey and his shadow counterpart: they both owe a lot to Sandy bc he probably helps them work out their issues and such so they help out a lot with the setting up and Wukong even allows the venue to be in a very nice spot on Flower Fruit Mountain. Macaque puts on some shadow plays for entertainment as well, mostly second hand retelling a of some of silktea’s moments (minus. The fighting. And such. Not the greatest wedding story lol-)

#silktea #silkteashipping #lmk silktea #lego monkie kid #lmk headcanons #lmk sandy #lmk huntsman #my headcanons #I forgot how I tag things help- #btw I wasn’t dead I was just way more active on Twitter but considering where that seems to be going… #might have to get back into the swing of things on Tumblr lol #I have like two mor asks and they’re about my au that I feel like I need to start over with but!!! that’ll get down eventually. maybe. #hopefully. soon…

[matan4il]

I think the writers making Eddie a love interest for Maddie would’ve been too obvious/easy, the classic Best Friend’s Sister trope. Plus Maddie and Chimney are so cute and so good together, I can’t even picture her character Eddie. JLH is a queen for pushing for them to go a different route, idk what she saw or knows but we’re all in her debt lol. It’s always kind of struck me as odd that we don’t get any scenes between her and Eddie/Ryan though (party/firefam scenes aside, we don’t get meaningful conversations, don’t really know if they’re friends the way everyone else is with the others’s spouses). I feel like we’re missing out, they’d have a lot to talk about.

Hi Nonnie! I gather this is in continuation of this ask reply. TBH, I'm not sure if they would have gone in on making Eddie Buck's BFF if it weren't for the change in plans JLH caused. Ravi and Lucy were both introduced without assigning them a bestie on the team, so maybe that's how Eddie would have been handled as well. Or maybe they would have had him be besties with Hen. Because back in s1, Chim was still portrayed more as Bobby's BFF than Hen's. The person Chimney was closest to after Bobby was Buck. So basically, they would have had room to play with who would be Buck's bestie. And since Eddie was a single dad, connecting with one of the other parents on the team could have been easily done.

Basically, I'm saying that we may owe JLH not just the romantic subtext between Buck and Eddie, it might be their friendship and its depth that we owe to her, too. Not to mention we might not have had the cuteness of Buddifer! So yes, 10000%. We probably wouldn't have had this fandom if it weren't for her.

As for Maddie and Eddie interacting, forever wanting to see more of that, which is why (as I've mentioned before), I even wrote that into one of my fics. Maybe they're kept apart because Maddie's hints for Eddie to finally confess his feelings to Buck would just be too loud. ;)

Thank you for your ask, lovely! Have a great day. As always, here is my ask tag. xoxox

#ask #anon ask #jennifer love hewitt #jlh #buddie #911meta #911 on abc #911 abc #buddie meta #911 meta #911abc #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911onabc #911 #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckley #christopher diaz

[bropunzeling]

Sorry to bother you but I have recently been reminded that Sophia Kunin of PWHL Minnesota is married to Matthew Tkachuk’s BFF Luke Kunin. And now I’m brainwormed by girl-Leon thoughts about double dates and what it looks like when everyone (sort of) has the same job but via different routes. And I thought I’d share because girl-Leon verse 🤷🏻‍♀️

ohhh i did not know this! how delightful!!! but also yes what a good path to think about!!!!! the women's only league vs integrated league is definitely a dynamic that can come up in and be dealt with skillfully in a "women in the nhl" fic that i simply decided i didn't have the space to do justice to it. but it’s a very interesting dynamic to think about! especially like, what do you owe a sport, what do you owe a women's league, what kind of trailblazer do you want to be.

and now i realized that wasn't exactly your question lmao but i think that four hockey playing nerds would do a LOT of talking shop/about work (because that's what people tend to do!). but also i am a lil 🥺 about leon getting to have a different kind of woman-playing-hockey friend? and also a couple friend? the development of couple-friends is so nice and she feels very soft about it, and matthew also feels soft because he wants his friends to like his person and vice versa

#ask #girl!leon wip :) #this is so incoherent im so sorrybbut i DO love it

[4townie]

Road to 4☆TOWN

part 1…part 10…part 20…part 30

Z narrowed his eyes when he opened the door. “You.”

“Hey, bff.” Taeyoung pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. “How’s your sister been treating you?”

“Why are you asking about my—OOF!” Z was interrupted by Olivia head butting him. “LIVVY!”

“Wow, you’re right. I got a real charge out of that.” Olivia smiled brightly. “And to think I’ve been sticking to embarrassing him in front of his boyfriend all these years.”

“Now that is an art you’ve mastered that I haven’t.” Taeyoung said as he stepped inside. “Perhaps you can teach me your ways.” He slung an arm around her shoulder.

Olivia blushed and she started giggling. “T-That would be amazingly cool.”

“Ugh, I can’t stand seeing you two together.” Z rolled his eyes. “What do you get out of being so chaotic anyway?”

“It’s so satisfying.” Olivia answered as she very carefully started holding Taeyoung’s hand. “Who would I even be if I wasn’t bugging you or Lijah all the time?”

“Besides, you know me.” Taeyoung subconsciously shook Olivia’s hand off of his and moved his arm away from her. “Chaos is my love language.”

“It’s your what?” Olivia’s eyes widened.

“Oh by the way.” Taeyoung pulled a box of Pocky out of his sweater pocket. “For you and that adorable boyfriend of yours.” He winked.

“Ewww, you think I’m gonna kiss him when he’s sick?” Z took the Pocky with a look of disgust.

“I AM NOT SICK!” T yelled as loud as he could with a hoarse voice and a stuffy nose. “It’s allergy season and the pollen count is high today.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can give me all the tea and soup and drugs you want. Pollen has far more power.”

“You want me to go to the store and get you that allergy medicine that always helps?” Taeyoung offered.

“You have an allergy medicine that solves this?” Z raised an eyebrow.

T was quiet for a moment. “I forgot.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Tae-Tae, you would be a lifesaver if you got it for me. I’d owe you every hug and cheek pinch in the world.”

“And you’ll let me put volcanic ash on your face next time I sleep over?” Taeyoung’s eyes brightened.

“Volcanic ash?” Z and Olivia looked at him in confusion.

“He has a lot of Korean skincare products that he brings up every time he wants to tell me my skin is shit.” T waved a hand nonchalantly. “Yes, Tae, you can fix my skin if you save my nose and throat.”

“EEP!” Taeyoung squealed. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Wait!” Olivia followed him. “I wanna go, too.”

“Nope.” Z shook his head. “Nuh-uh. No way.”

“Why not?” Taeyoung crossed his arms. “She’s hardly a kid anymore. Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Z focused his gaze on Olivia.

Olivia groaned. “Aaron—”

“Babe.” T called him. “She can and will tackle you to the ground again if you get in her way right now. Trust me, she’ll be fine.”

Z narrowed his eyes. “Fine, but only because the way you’re handling this makes me wanna use this Pocky.”

T gave him a flirty smirk. “Is that so?”

“Okay, we’re out.” Taeyoung grabbed Olivia’s wrist and pulled her out the door. “Remember we’ll only be gone for twenty minutes so try to be normal by the time we get back.”

T and Z both hummed an absentminded response as they put a Pocky stick between them.

“Ugh, they’re so annoying.” Taeyoung rolled his eyes as he shut the door. “It’s almost as if they don’t know they have two adorable younger siblings watching them.” He smirked evilly. “That’s why they deserve to get tormented.”

“Yeah.” Olivia agreed with a ridiculous grin. “I love how much you love chaos.”

Taeyoung stared at her. “Gee, no one’s ever told me that before. Thanks, Squirt.” He shrugged. “Now let’s get moving cuz I’m very interested in those wedding photos you promised to show me over the phone.”

“I’m so excited to show you.” Olivia wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they started walking down the hall. “It feels like the start of something new.”

Taeyoung chuckled almost condescendingly. “Livvy, we’ve known each other for like three years now.”

#4town fanfic #4town headcanons #4town taeyoung #4town aaron t #4town z #4town robaire #4town jesse #turning red #turning red 4town #4town #4townie