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jonnnysuh · 3 years

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Never Not - Park Jinyoung

Pairing: idol!Jinyoung x gender neutral reader

Summary: Your bad day is turned around when your childhood best friend, Jinyoung, returns to your hometown and takes you on a tour of your favourite memories together.

Genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: suggested sexual experience

Word Count: 4.3k

Requested by: Anon

A/N: Hi guysssss. I took a small break from tumblr bc I got super busy with work. I haven’t written something like this in a while, but I actually loved how it turned out. I recommend listening to Never Not by Lauv to get into the mood <33

Effort was hard to make these days. Even the way you walked had an unmistakable slouch. Your exhaustive strides were just a shallow reminder that there used to be a hop in your step. Five more minutes and you were free from the shackles of work. Free to figure out what to make for dinner, and appease the gurgles of your stomach.The seconds on the point of sale system didn't seem to move fast enough as you folded the customer's final item and shoved it into a bag.

When you were a kid, no one told you how exhausting being an adult was, and thus it became something to look forward to. You were so caught up on getting that first kiss, sneaking out to go to parties, seeing people that your parents didn't approve of, that you didn't realize that life didn't slow down from there. It was like you blinked, and you were no longer 16. Instead, you were twenty-something perpetually feeling like life was just an endless pit of "what ifs" and building up the courage to make something of yourself. Another mindless "Have a good day." escaped your lips as you bid a customer bye for the nth time that day. You wondered how many of your years would waste away telling others to have a good day, when you yourself hadn't had one in a while.

You pressed your fingers against your temple to sooth a small growing headache. Working in retail for as long as you had, you knew that the s-curved line of people didn't stop for your discomfort. With a fake smile on your face, you welcomed the next few customers as your eyes wandered around the store looking for the person who was going to take over for the next hour. Fifteen minutes past the hour, your replacement finally came. Externally, you wanted to scream and ask them what took you so long? but you knew that would only make you as good as the worst customer. Graciously, you nodded at them, before walking away to the back room to fetch your things and head out.

...

You stood against the wall at the bus shelter shivering from the cool summer breeze that was disguising just how rapidly autumn was truly coming. Today probably wasn't the best day to forget your coat. You rubbed your arms for warmth, taking micro footsteps in place. The pain in your feet made you romanticize the comfort of the sturdy old bus seats as a place of rest. You felt your phone in your pocket vibrate, but you let it ring out. You were determined to get a seat on this bus. A deep sigh escaped you as you surveyed the density of the crowd on the platform- the ride home was definitely going to be longer than usual. When the bus arrived, you queued behind a long line of people. Your phone rang a second time, at this point the crowd was getting larger and you knew you weren't going to get a seat on this bus.

PRIVATE CALLER

"Hello?" you pressed your phone to your ear. Sometimes your mother used phone booths to reach you, so you expected her voice to be on the other end of the line. "I'm offended I had to call you twice for you to pick up." The voice was much deeper, and the delivery much more lighthearted than anything that would've came out of your mother. The absence of a greeting was distinct and direct, but no matter, you knew exactly who this was.

You felt the tenseness of your shoulders drop with just the sound of this voice. "If I had definitely known it was you, I wouldn't have picked up, Mr. Private caller." you jest with the phone pressed between your ear and the crook of your shoulder.

"You know, I was gonna suggest that I pick you up, but just for that comment, I change my mind."

You poke your tongue at your cheek, coyly. For all the changes that occurred in your life, for some reason you could depend on Jinyoung's quick wit and humour to hit the spot even after all this time.

"That's fine, I just finished work so I was thinking of just going home anyways." You had no idea he was even back in South Korea. Last you heard, he was on tour somewhere in North America. More than that, you couldn't even remember when the last time you actually talked was. You were curious about what he was up to these days, but you you knew any hint of urgency in your voice would lead to incessant teasing on his part. The line progressed slightly, but you still didn't feel any closer to the entrance of the bus.

"I'm about to get on a bus home."

"Well, don't get on."

"If I don't get on then you're gonna have to repay me for the fare I paid to even get here." You eyed the bus reaching its capacity, and stepped aside. You twisted your fingers in hope that he was being 100% serious, otherwise you were going to have to wait out for the 6:30pm bus.

"I can't believe the cost of your attention is only $2. Do better." the voice quipped.

"Okay, Jinyoung I guess I'll just get on, then." you threatened, although you had no intention of boarding the departing bus.

"Fine, fine. I'll pay for your fare. Just wait for me."

...

The sky had darkened tenfold since you hung up from Jinyoung's impromptu call. The streetlights glowed gold against the lavender backdrop of the sky. You sat on the bus shelter bench, swinging your feet back and forth as you waited for him. If he took even a minute longer, you vowed to somehow become the president of the Park Jinyoung hate club. Of course, you wouldn't actually, but the idea became more appealing the longer you waited.

You weren't one to go on spontaneous outings- at least not since your teenage years. Recently, you followed the strict routine of work, home, sleep, and to stray from it seemed pointless. But the fact that he even thought of you when he came back home to South Korea was still not something you could wrap your head around.

In the distance, a glow of headlights appeared, stopping perfectly adjacent to your bus stop. The window rolled down, and there appeared Jinyoung's face in all its glory. To say all the words in your vocabulary disappeared would be an understatement. A part of you doubted he would even follow through. Without missing a beat, he returned a look to you. "You just gonna stare at me, or are you gonna get in the car?"

...

Your backpack was sitting atop your lap, bouncing with the movement of the car. Jinyoung hung one hand over the steering wheel. The orange and purple of the sky twisting, and creating a brand new colour that only seemed to grace the skies at this hour. The music was unidentifiable, but the volume was low enough that you didn't even bother trying to figure it out.

"So what'd you do today?" he asked.

"I worked, I told you that." you replied, matter-of-factly.

"And how was it?"

"I honestly can't tell the difference between this week and last week. Or even last month. Same old, same old. Annoying customers, stale lunch, forgot my jacket at home even though it's 15 fucking degrees outside."

"Do you still work at that clothing store you started at when we were 20?"

Your eyes shifted, following the ever-changing scenery of the highway. No idea where he was bringing you, and yet you were brought to comfort by Jinyoung's habits. You knew he didn't have a drug deal, or a random party planned. Jinyoung was always the type to be home before midnight. He was a self-proclaimed goody-two-shoes, but you weren't completely fooled. You knew he could bend the rules if it seemed to serve him.

"That exact same one."

"Anything else?"

You looked at him, the shock settling in that he was really right next to you-- no longer just a figure on a billboard that you used to know. The changes of his physicality were subtle; his face was more defined, but his cheeks still carried the baby fat that had been there since childhood. The shadow of his facial hair loomed on his smooth skin. The mole on the top of his lip, not necessarily gone, but faded. He looked older, but the aura of his presence remained the same.

"And then I was dumb enough to get into a car with a stranger because he said he'd give me $2."

Jinyoung side eyed you, causing you to erupt in laughter. His glare was also unchanging. "Stranger? Your memory's fading already?" He shook his head disappointedly. "I thought you still had a few good years left."

"Oh yeahhhhhh. Sorry Jinyoungie. Didn't recognize you with all the fame." you pinched and pulled on his ear- both things a relic of your grade school years. When you were kids, you never let him forget the age gap. Granted, it was only 3 days, but that gave you the freedom to refer to him however you pleased, while he was stuck with the honorifics.

As you let go, the curve of his ear flushed red. "OWW.” he cried, swatting your hand away. “You’re lucky I’m driving otherwise I would pull your hair.”

Being raised with Jinyoung meant that you were inseparable but kind of in the worst way. If Jinyoung got a good mark on a test, his parents would immediately flaunt it to yours. If you wanted to sneak out, he was on your tail telling you to go back home. And if he knew you liked someone, then that person would know soon enough by the words of Jinyoung. All of that warranted ear pulling, and if you did something in retaliation he would pull your hair.

He was one of the few people in your life, who encapsulated a certain time of your life. The time in your life when you were young, and the world felt so big and everything was possible.

The car rocked back and forth as it shifted into the elevated ramp of a parking lot. Your eyes widened as you realized where you were. He lingered in his seat before popping his seatbelt off and exiting the car. You followed him, swinging the passenger door open.

"So you randomly called me because you wanted to hang out at the...convenience store?" you gestured to the old, orangey building. The bricks were chipped, and the fluorescent lights illuminated the outside through the big glass window. You remember the days when you and Jinyoung would sit on the parking blocks and split a bag of chips until you were chased off the property by the owner. He pulled on the store door, pressing his back to it and letting you enter first.

"Well, I wasn't going to come here until you started yanking my ears. That's when I knew you were hungry."

Without stopping, you weaved through the store until you reached aisle 3- the snack aisle had become a home to you and Jinyoung when you were growing up. In grade school, you were both fearful of what was beyond the boundaries of your home and school so you indulged in after school snacks at the convenience to talk about the latest happenings in your life. As you aged, it became the place of solace after exams, or the meetup location for last minute plans.

He picked up a package of gummy worms, and shook them in your face. "Do you remember what happened the last time we ate theseeee?" Jinyoung smirked. For a moment, you were taken aback by how much he had grown. In your teens, you and Jinyoung met eye to eye. Now, you felt like you had to look up at him in order to be taken seriously.

You crossed your arms, "Yeah, we ate them in the parking lot and you made me confess who I had a crush on."

"Chan, right?"

You nodded, with a sulk as you reminisced. "That wasn't fair."

"Why? Do you still have a crush on him?"

"I haven't thought about him in so long. You really think I'd have a lingering crush on a guy I haven't seen in years?"

Jinyoung shrugged, and shifted his feet. "You had a huge crush on him, though. You even stared at him like this." He rested his palm to his cheek, letting out a deep sigh while trying to maintain an enamoured expression. You snorted, hitting him on the chest. "You'd write his name all over your notebooks AND you bullied me into giving you one of my new ones." he added.

You let out a belly laugh. "And then I wrote his name all over that one too."

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. "They were premium quality notebooks. My aunt sent me them from the states!"

"You had a kabillion of them. Besides, you pestered me for-like-ever to know who I liked, but you never even told me who you had a crush on." You grabbed the bag of gummy worms from his hand and placed it in your shopping basket. Your attention shifted, as you realized you should be in search of your favourite chocolates. You knew that you were far too old to be eating junk food for dinner, but there was something familiar about being hyped up on food that you knew would rot your insides. Your eyes landed on the top row of the wall, and before you could grab your favourite chocolates, Jinyoung stripped it from the wall and dropped it into the basket. He piled on a bag of sour cream and onion chips, and then you both ventured to the drink refrigerators.

Both of you stared deeply at your drink options. On each level of the fridge, stood several different colourful drinks. If you knew Jinyoung, then you knew he would pick a Coke- it was something he swore by in your younger years. You hummed, mentally deciding between an iced tea or a vitamin water. You weren't sure why it bothered you when Jinyoung picked up a Sprite, but you tried to hide your dismay. With an ice tea in hand, and a basket full of both of your favourite things, you made your way to the cashier.

At the last moment, Jinyoung placed a bright yellow umbrella on the checkout counter. He looked down at you, surely, “You never know when it’s gonna rain.”

...

The following car ride to your next destination only lasted about 3 minutes before he parked on the side of the road and dragged you down the street, with the plastic bag full of your foods in hand.

"I should've known you were going to bring me here." you said, strolling down the familiar gravel pathway towards your elementary school. All colour in the sky had disappeared now, finding it hard to see anything but the outline of each other and some features.

Both of you settled on the grass field, onlooking the tall school building that was the foundation of your formal years. As soon as you opened the bag of chips, you found yourselves deep in conversation, talking about what life had been for him the last few years. You couldn't help but be in awe when he explained the rush he got when he got on stage, and how he got anxiety when he thought he wasn’t doing his best. The candidacy of his thoughts drew you in and you were surprised that he trusted you with his secrets.

All these years, you had always wondered what he was up to, if he was living a life far better than the one he left at home. To everyone else, he was this huge pop star that had travelled the world 3 times over, but to you, he was your best friend who left home at 16. You had seen him through the bad hair phases, the adolescent temper tantrums, the voice cracks, and the questionable fashion choices both your parents had put you in.

He leaned back on his arms as he gazed at the school. "Are you afraid of change?" You were silent for a moment as you thought. "On a scale of 1-10?" you rocked your head back and forth. "It's a 15."

Jinyoung raised his eyebrows. You held your legs to your chest, and looked at him. "Why?"

He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it and looked smugly in the other direction. "Heyyy." you poked him repeatedly. "You can't just ask me that and not tell me why."

He enclosed his hand around your finger, forcing your poking to come to a halt. It felt like he was studying your face. Never in your life had you ever felt like you were under the scope of Jinyoung's gaze. The darkness of the sky acted as a mask, hiding your blushing face.

"It was the last thing I asked you before I left." he admitted. "I asked you that when things were about to change big time for us… I always wondered if you resented me for leaving you behind."

The last day before Jinyoung left to become a full-time trainee, you two snuck on to this very same field. Both of you ran across the grass, picking up dandelions; believing that if you gathered enough and blew on them, that they would fuel your wishes.

“You thought I could resent you?” He nodded. “Well, for starters, I hate your guts.” You replied sarcastically, causing him to look at the ground with embarrassment and your face softened at the sight of it.

“You know what I wished for on all of those dandelions, Jinyoung?”

“Not to fail the math exam.” Even in a soft moment, he couldn’t help but be sly. “No!” You exclaimed.

“Well, you should’ve. You got a 48.” He sensed your killer look on him. “So what’d you wish for?”

You played with your fingers. You thought you’d take this secret to the grave. “I wished that you’d be successful in whatever you chose to do.” His eyes enlarged, alarmed at your confession. “but maybe I should’ve wished for the math thing.”

Jinyoung giggled, inching closer to you so your legs were pressed against each other.

“What did you wish for?” You asked. He smiled with the side of his mouth, shaking his head.

“I wished that I’d always find my way back home.” “Oh goddd.” You gagged. “you’re so corny.”

“What about you, huh? You used your wish on me!” he bellowed, his voice echoing against the school playground.

“Hey, I might just be the reason why you’re famous.” You fought back.

You flipped your phone over, 7:53, the brightness of it only barely illuminating the dark. You thought about what you would be doing at this moment if you weren’t here, if he hadn’t picked you up. Mmm probably falling asleep to a tv show. Probably dreading tomorrow. Probably not as happy.

"But what did I say? You know… the first time you asked me that question?” You couldn’t even begin to imagine how 16-year-old you answered.

"You said you were excited to see who we were going to become.” The words of your younger self were so hopeful, yet your current self felt hopeless. Your expression sank, and Jinyoung offered a small smile to revive it. He felt guilty having asked you the question in the first place.

You sat in silence for a bit, dwelling on the excitement for life that you once had. Where was it? And how could you get it back?

“I feel like I’ve let myself down. I don’t even know who I am now.”

Jinyoung blinked slowly, watching his childhood best friend crumble. He rested a hand on your shoulder. "I just look at you, and in so many ways you're the same. I still know what makes you laugh, and the way you say things. I can still pick out your favourite snacks, and know you’re gonna pull my ears when I do something to piss you off.” he yanked on yours softly. "Everything about you feels just how I left you. I feel my youth when I'm with you. But at the same time I’m comforted by how much you’ve changed.”

“I don’t think I’ve changed much.”

“You don’t see it, do you?” You shook your head no. “Do you remember how scared you were to even leave the house when we were kids? Now you live on your own. You never took anything seriously back then, but you’re now one of the hardest working people I know…” his voice softened. “And you let yourself be vulnerable with me when it used to take hours to drag it out of you.” You laid on his shoulder, and he rested his head on top of yours, snuggling closer. “You fear change, yet you’re changing right before your own eyes. And maybe one day, I’ll come back here, and I won’t even be able to recognize who you’ve become.” You sniffled, the idea of Jinyoung not remembering you broke your heart. You held your chest. “But if that day does come, it’ll be okay. Because I know that the person that you’ve become will have it all figured out. I’ll always be rooting for every single version of yourself even if it doesn’t include me.” You sobbed quietly, interlocking your fingers with his. He held your hand tightly, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. For once, there was an action not done out of habit or relic. It was an action evoked just for this moment, and it was a change that you didn’t mind.

…

Jinyoung held your hand, leading you down a narrow road a few minutes away. The sound of crickets, barking dogs, and distant vehicles could be heard as you stood in the middle of the road of your childhood neighbourhood.

You hadn’t been here since you moved in 2016. You looked up at the large modern house that sat on what used to be two lots. Yours and Jinyoung’s childhood homes were purchased by a wealthy business man and demolished to build the business man’s dream home. You stared at the foreign house that sat on the place of your childhood dreams and frustrations.

Jinyoung placed his hands on your shoulders and stopped you at the exact halfway point between what was once his house and your house. You rubbed your arms as a gust of wind rushed by. Without thinking, Jinyoung slipped off his hoodie and placed it on top of your shoulders.

“I remember racing you down this street.” You piped up, pointing down the end of the road. Jinyoung always won that race. No one was faster than him on this street.

“I remember finding that stray puppy and fighting over who got to keep it.” He responded.

“It should’ve been me.” You bickered. Jinyoung laughed, amused at how you were always one to hold a grudge.

“Do you remember that day when it started raining soooo hard and we had to walk shoulder to shoulder under my umbrella?”

You nodded. “Ya, that was the same day with the gummy worms, you dummy.”

“So do you remember what happened right here?” He pointed at the exact spot you were standing. You racked your head for a memory, but nothing stood out to you clearly. You shook your head no. “We always said bye to one another here...but…?” you trailed off.

He took a step forward, both of you standing directly under the streetlight now. You watched his face light up as he likely played the moment back in his head. “So that day, standing under my umbrella, we were about to go our separate ways. You turned into me.”

He took another step closer, popping open the bright yellow convenience store umbrella and holding it over your heads.

You could see it now. It was drizzling so hard, even your hair wasn’t protected from getting soaked. You wrapped your hands around the handle, just like how you did back then. Chest to chest, huddled under the umbrella. Jinyoung locked eyes with you, your heart beat faster.

“And you looked at me, and I swear I was going to say everything I wanted to tell you right then and there.” Your mouth opened in shock. “This was the place where I almost told you I loved you.”

You studied the eyes of the boy you watched grow up. He looked scared, but sure. There was no doubt in your mind that Jinyoung meant what he said. He lowered the umbrella, not letting his gaze veer from you.

Your life was just a build up of what if’s and trying to gain the courage to make something of yourself… but you didn’t want that anymore. With your heart beating out of control, you leaned into him, taking the risk and kissing his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, deepening the heat of the kiss.

A round of thunder boomed above you, and little by little, raindrops began to pour from the sky.

You and Jinyoung separated to look up at the sky. “I did say, you never know when it’s gonna rain.”

You both ran for the car, shoulder to shoulder, under the umbrella. From your heads to your toes, you were soaked in the rain, but neither of you cared. You silently thanked the world for every bad thing that happened to you today that led to this.

…

You blinked your eyes awake, surveying the damp clothes strewn across your living room floor, and the heat of the bare body laying next to you on the couch. You stared at your sleepy childhood best friend, a smile spreading across your lips. This was a change you were ready for.

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Ladybug: A Young Avenger

Hey Everyone, I got prompt for a civil war ML crossover fic but I was really into Team Iron Man on Ao3 for longest of times and, after endgame, I kind of need some team fluff. So I tweaked the prompt. It’s still team Iron man; just… not the way you’d expect. (Also did anyone know else know that Penny’s last name was Rolling?)

It took Tony Stark all of five minutes to figure out Ladybug’s identity.

“Jarvis, buddy?” Tony called out.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s up with teenagers and being bug-themed heroes wearing inappropriate costumes?”

The A.I took a moment before answering, “…I, for one, blame Vine.”

Tony sighed. First fifteen-year-old Peter Parker aka Spiderman. He took the kid on an as an intern the second he learned about Spiderman. Now fifteen-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Ladybug.

He groaned.

What could he do? He needed help.

Captain America needed to be stopped. The Winter Solider needed to be taken down. Team Cap had gone too far.

It was war.

Getting Harley Keener, a mechanical mastermind to agree to be his intern was a bit like chewing nails but Tony always knew the kit would agree. Getting Peter Parker, a child genius with a bright future as a scientist, to agree to be his intern was a piece of cake. Honestly Tony could’ve asked for the kid’s soul in repayment and Peter would’ve asked if he wanted on a silver plate or if plastic was okay? Getting Riri Williams, an engineering prodigy to be his intern, was easy. Too easy; her mom practically threw her at him, all while making him swear into a recorder that he wouldn’t sue. No matter what. Introducing the kids to his labs made him feel like Willie Wonka hand-delivering the golden tickets.

They were all future scientists and engineers like Tony. They grew up worshiping at the altar of Stark Industries like ever future MIT graduate did.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, on the other hand, was an entirely different beast who played an entirely different game. She was a fashion prodigy who had designed for stars like Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. She had interned for Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois, had her clothes walk the runway during Paris fashion week, and had a summer job that somehow lasted over a year, working for Miranda Priestly, the editor-in-Chief for Runway Magazine when the scary woman took over Paris: Runaway. Said job ended when Miranda when back to New York. Marinette only prayed to the fashion gods. So when Tony Stark, god of the nerds, showed up at her door, she only blinked once.

Said girl sat between her parents, with cool blue eyes glaring at him suspiciously. Luckily Tony was smart enough to bring Pepper with him.

Pepper Potts smiled at the family in front of her; two bakers and the daughter, who made the most delicious macarons that she ever tasted. “So you see, after Tony came across Marinette’s wonderful re-design sketch of his suit on her website, he was very impressed with her talent.”

“But to take Marinette on as an intern?” Sabine asked. “Excuse me, but Marinette has always leaned towards the arts than science.”

Tony gave the woman his best charming smile, “What is science if not another form of art. We both create, strive to better our talents, work to make names for ourselves; experiment and test out hypothesizes. Granted no one in my field ever created the disaster that was crocs.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes, “Didn’t your father help on the Manhattan Project?”

Silence.

Pepper cleared on her throat. “Tom, Sabine, before anyone agrees to anything I’d like to go over safety procedures in place. Would you mind stepping outside with me, I could use a bit of fresh air.”

Tony and Marinette just stared at each other as the three left the room. When the front door closed behind them, Marinette leaned forward, “What do you want?” Her patience had reached its end.

“Aren’t you being a little rude?” Tony smirked.

“Aren’t you a little old?” Marinette snapped back. “What do you want?”

“I want Ladybug’s help.”

Marinette flinched back in shock. Her heart raced in her chest. “How do you know?”

“I’m Tony Stark,” He shrugged easily, picking up a mint chocolate Macron. “I know everything.”

Marinette fought the fear racing through her, and steeled herself like Miranda and Audrey had taught her, “So Iron Man’s wanted Ladybug as an intern? So what does Iron Man get? What does Ladybug get? What does Tony get? And what does Marinette get?”

“You made clear distinctions,” Tony said approvingly, his business-side gearing up. “But I am Iron Man.” He said. “You come to New York for this spring break and for the summer. I get Ladybug’s help in handling a personal issue that has developed within the Avengers. Ladybug gets training from the Avengers. Marinette gets to add Stark Industries and a personal letter of recommendation from Tony Stark to her resume.”

“On the condition, that identities stay secret from the media,” Marinette crossed her arms. “I don’t suppose I can hide it from the rest Avengers for very long. And I get an additional letter of recommendation from Pepper Potts. Pepper takes my friend Chloe on as an intern; she’s the hero, Queen Bee. And only one who knows my identity, besides you. Also, I actually do get to help design your next suit. My expenses?”

Tony smirk widened. The girl knew how to cover her bases. She even wanted to have an Ally with her should things take a turn. “All paid for by me. First-class all the way. You and Chloe will stay in the Stark Tower on the same floor as the other interns.”

“Other young superheroes, you mean?” Marinette guessed, causing Tony’s eyes to twinkle in joy. “Spiderman, Iron Heart, and WarIron. Based on their sizes, I had guessed they were young; teenagers probably. Why didn’t you ask Chat Noir too? Or why aren’t you? Because you’re not, you would’ve mentioned it by now?”

“You mean the Agreste kid?” Tony said, not noticing Marinette’s eyes widen in surprise. “He’s not serious enough for me. I play games but he goes too far. Surprised you haven’t dumped him yet. Get a better partner.”

Marinette took a bit of a macron to get a moment to think. Adrien was Chat Noir. In retrospect, it made a lot of sense. Both were socially immature, and a bit naïve. Each had an idealistic view of things and didn’t let the real world break them of it. For example Adrien and his dealing with Lila’s lies. Chat Noir and Ladybug turning down his advances.

“Very well,” The bluenette finally agreed. “I agree to be your intern. Shall we discuss my salary now or later? Well, need to before I or my parents sign any contracts.”

It was Tony’s turn to narrow his eyes. Not one; not a single one of his interns: Harley, Peter, or Riri ever asked about how much they’d get paid. They’d all assumed it was an unpaid internship and was surprised when their contracts included a salary. “You’re a shark.”

Marinette hummed, “You should see me when there’s blood in the water.”

That was something Tony was looking forward to seeing.

The official paperwork was signed three days later; Marinette was officially a Stark intern. Due to go to Orientation for spring break in New York in a few weeks.

Those weeks flew by. She let Fu know she’d have to go back and forth for a few weeks. She didn’t bother telling anyone else. Her friendships in the class had dwindled dramatically. While most weren’t her outright enemies, her classmates tended to avoid her. If they couldn’t do that, they were beyond cold to her. It was Lila’s doing. She got her hooks into the class, who all wanted to tie themselves to the golden goose, and when it was clear that Lila and Marinette didn’t like each other, they picked sides. They chose their meal ticket over their lifelong friend.

Honestly, it made Marinette almost wish that Lila had lied about her instead; accused her of being a bully or something. Anything. Because at least then her ex-friends would have somewhat of a reason to be ex-friends. Even if it wasn’t a very good one. Instead, they were just bad friends all on their own.

Still, Marinette didn’t mourn their loss as she sat in the back of the class with Chloe on a Sunny Tuesday morning, and they were living for New York that Friday. She had a steadily rising career in Fashion. She had worked under Miranda Priestly and Audrey. From them, she learned it was best to drop fair-weather friends and how to spot wannabes, fame-seekers, and gold-diggers from three miles away.

She was happy with Chloe as her bestie. The girl had turned a new leaf and proven her loyalty to the point where Fu made her a permanent hero. And the Blond had been ecstatic when Pepper Potts had shown up at their door. She had hugged Marinette a full five minutes for getting her the internship. All while screaming with joy.

Both girls were excited to go. Though Marinette did encounter one downside. The night before, Jagged Stone and Penny Rolling; or as Marinette deemed them #RollingStone, called her. Or rather Penny did the talking. Jagged was trying to wrestle his newest jacket away from Fang’s teeth. Penny offered Marinette a chance to spend her spring break traveling around on tour with Jagged, as his personal stylist. Marinette had no choice but to turn the job down. She loved her honorary Uncle Jagged but she already signed the contract.

That morning Lila had spun another set of lies. The first was about helping Tony Stark fix his Iron man suit when she was traveling in America. The second was about the newest song Jagged Stone wrote about her. It was exhausting to listen to but the class hung on every word.

Bustier had just finished her first lesson of the day when she invited Alya to stand up.

The glasses-wearing girl grinned at the class, “So as everyone’s aware; there’s a class pool party is this Saturday; first day of spring break, baby!” The class cheered. “Everyone who’s invited should’ve gotten their invitation. Don’t want any drama,” She cast a cold look to the two girls at the back of the class. “Invite only. So no party crashers. Marinette, Chloe what are you doing this Saturday?” Alya smirked at her call out that the two girls weren’t invited; that they were the only ones who weren’t.

As if on cue, the classroom’s door burst opened and in walked Tony Stark, followed by a very apologetic looking Pepper, “Marinette; it’s time to go! Grab Pepper’s minion and let’s go.”

There were gasps from the class. Max sat up straight. Iron Man was in front of him, in his class, this was the best day of his life.

Marinette just sighed, “Did you kick the door open, Tony?” Disapproval clear in her voice.

“…No?”

“I can’t go now!” Marinette explained. “I have class. We weren’t supposed to leave until Friday, remember.”

Tony waved her off, “Details. Spring Break starts now. Queenie, Mari; chop-chop! New York is waiting!”

Bustier decided to step in. She may not always be the best teacher but she refused to allow a strange man, even if that man was Tony Stark, to take away any of her students. “Mr. Stark, can I ask what you want Marinette and Chloe for?”

Thankfully, it was Pepper that answered as she closed back the classroom door, “They have been employed as interns for Stark Industries. They’ll be attending orientation during their spring break at Stark Tower.”

Max actually fell out of his seat. Because this couldn’t be happening. Stark industries rarely ever took high schoolers’ as interns. Tony Stark only chose the best of the best. How could Marinette land the job?

“Marinette’s my intern,” Tony grinned. “Blondie’s Pepper’s. Who else is gonna teach her how to rule the world.”

A slow smile spread across Chloe’s face, “With an iron fist.”

Tony pointed at her, “You scare me. Pepper get your intern!”

The other students were amazed. Marinette was Tony Stark’s intern. Chloe somehow got Pepper Pott's attention. What had they missed? Why didn’t Marinette tell them? How?

“That’s what we’ll be doing this Saturday, Alya,” Chloe drawled. “In New York, hanging with the Avengers.” Causing Alya to flush with anger. “We couldn’t come to your pool party even if we wanted to. Which we don’t.”

“He found my sketch of a potential Iron man suit design,” Marinette explained, continuing the story Tony had told her parents. “He loved it and offered me the job a few weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” Nino asked. “And you didn’t tell us? Dudette, not cool.”

Alix nodded, her arms crossed, “Yeah I thought we were friends!”

Marinette and Chloe just looked at them like they were stupid.

Alya put her hands on her hips, “Mr. Stark, why didn’t you ask Lila Rossi to be your intern? She helped you with your suit before. She’d be much better than Marinette!”

The girl in question face turned bright red, “This can’t be happening.” Lila muttered.

Tony looked honestly confused, “Lila? Who’s Lila? No one ever helped me with my suit except the kids I already got as interns.” He looked at Pepper. “Do I know a Lila Rossi?”

Pepper shook her head, and turned fierce eyes towards Lila, “Miss Rossi, please refrain from lying about Tony Stark and or Stark Industries. Or we will sue you on the grounds of defamation.”

Lila squeaked. Sue? She couldn’t be sued. Her mother would kill her if she got a lawsuit from Tony Stark.

It was the rest of the class’s turn to look confused.

However, before anyone could ask any follow-up questions, the classroom door burst opened again. Jagged Stone strutted in, followed by a very apologetic look Penny and happy Fang with, what looked to be, the arm of a leather jacket.

“Marinette!” Jagged yelled. “What’s this about you not coming on tour? I need my favorite stylist, love.

Marinette just sighed, “Did you kick the door open, Jagged?” Disapproval clear in her voice.

“…No?”

The bluenette just shook her head, “I have plans this Spring break. I’m sorry.”

“Plans?” Jagged whined. “What could be better spending your Spring Break with a Rock Star? You can even bring your Blonde. Penny could use an assistant!” He paused, finally noticing it wasn’t just kids. “The bloody hell is Tony Stark doing here?”

The two famous men eyed each other. The women they came with just looked so done with the world.

Tony crossed his arms, “I got custody of Marinette for Spring Break; you snooze, you lose.”

“What?!” Jagged hissed. “She’s my designer.”

“She’s my intern!”

Jagged glared, “I knew her first. By rights, I get custody.”

“I have a contract that says otherwise!” Tony taunted the Rock Star. “Her future is Stark Industries.”

“Her future is Rock and Roll!” Jagged yelled back.

Both men glared at each other.

“Pepper!”

“Penny!”

Both women groaned. How was this their lives? Why what was this their lives? What bus full of nuns and orphans did they rob in a past life?

Penny smiled, “Marinette means the world to us. I’m her honorary Aunt Penny,” She held out her hand for Pepper. “Jagged’s her honorary Uncle. We’ve known her for years. Contracts were already signed?”

Pepper nodded, “Tony doesn’t play when it comes to his interns. He won’t budge. Trust me; we’ve done this three other times. Marinette’s his kid now, all but legally.” For now, Pepper didn’t bother to add. Every now and then she found discovered a new set of adoption papers with one of the interns’ names on it; one time she found three sets for all three. Plus if Tony kept hinting any harder, May was going to gut him. “She’ll be in New York for Spring break and all of the summer.”

“Summer!” Jagged whined. “He gets custody for summer too! No!” he shook his head. “Not happening. Call our lawyers, Penny. We’re going to family court!”

Tony blew him a raspberry. Tony Stark blew Jagged Stone a raspberry. The class could only blink, trying to process what was happening.

Marinette just wanted the earth to open up and swallow her.

“Marinette already designed your clothes for the tour,” Penny tried to placate. “They’re amazing. We can call and skype if we need any additional tips. We have a concert in New York over spring break so we can go and see.” They didn’t. But Penny would be damned if she could have one booked within the hour. Anything to stop jagged from mention family court again. “Most of our summer is free too, we can visit Marinette whenever we want.”

Jagged huffed but didn’t say anything.

“Well not whenever you want,” Tony teased.

“Family court!” Jagged hissed.

“Tony!” Pepper said warningly. She was not going to let this going to court. No matter how lovely Marinette was. “Be nice.”

Tony pouted.

Marinette raised her hand, “You guys know that legally my parents still have custody of me, right?” There was no answer. “Right?!” Nothing.

The bluenette just sighed.

Alya took that moment to break in, “Jagged, don’t you want to say hi to Lila? She’s right here,” Alya pointed to her bestie. “Oh, can we listen to the songs you wrote for her? Can you tell us how she saved your cat from getting hit by a plane?”

The look Lila gave Alya could’ve killed a thousand men.

Jagged looked affronted, “Lila? Who’s Lila?” He looked at his fiancé. “Penny, do I know a Lila?”

“No!” Penny glared fiercely at Lila. “Jagged Stone has never written a song about an underage girl before. He has never owned a cat. What parents and airline would careless enough to allow a child to rush onto a runway for a pet? Refrain from spreading any further slander. Or we’ll hit you with a lawsuit so fast you’ll get whiplash.”

“I’m allergic to cats by the way,” Jagged told the class. “All fur actually. That’s why I got Fang here.” He pointed the crocodile who had made its way to Marinette for cuddles. “I’ve had him for twenty years. He’s the only pet I’ve had all that time.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and took the crocodile in her lap.

“Twenty years?” Kim’s eyebrows furrowed. “Whoa, that’s long that we’ve been alive.”

Nino glared at Lila, “Yeah it is.” He finally realized the girl was lying. Most of the class had in fact.

“Enough of this,” Tony waved. “Marinette, Chloe, time to go. Leave the dinosaur.”

Bustier took a deep breath, “No one is taking Marinette or Chloe anywhere. Until I get a note from their parents verifying that is. I’m going to have to ask you all to leave.”

Penny and Pepper nodded understandingly. Jagged and Tony just looked shocked.

“But I’m Tony Stark!”

“I’m Jagged Stone, love!”

Bustier just rolled her eyes and shooed them out of her class. It took some handling, and eventually, the women had to drag the guys out. The teacher shut the door with a sigh of relief. She brushed off the imaginary dirt on her clothes. “Marinette,” She called. “If you could tell any future visitors to wait until after school to pick you up, with a note from your parents that would be most helpful.”

“Sorry,” Marinette blushed, a deep dark red.

Bustier walked back to her desk before pausing. “Is that Crocodile still in my class, Marinette?”

“…Yes.”

“I think he’s here for the rest of the day,” Chloe shrugged. “Unless you want to invite Jagged back?”

Bustier paused. No. Never again. “No. No. Fang can stay for the day.”

When the lunch bell rang, Marinette found that it was easier to avoid her classmates' questions, as they were too busy yelling at Lila. It wasn’t long after that Ladybug had to take down Lila’s seventh akuma form.

Marinette and Chloe left that night to New York. Somehow he managed to convince their parents that missing three days of school to study in the most advanced building in the world was a good thing.

When they got to Stark Tower, they were given a quick tour. Then Pepper took Chloe to show her where she would be working. And Tony took Marinette the workshop where three other kids were already working.

The oldest one glanced at her and snorted, “God he kidnapped another one.” He was the tallest in the room with dark brown hair and a smirk on his face.

The other two snickered.

Tony looked affronted, “Oh please; your parental units practically threw you at me.

The younger looking boy smirked, “Aunt May threatened to shank you next time you took me out of school early.” He had light brown hair and big brown eyes

The genius pointed, “You tell Aunt Hottie to leave me alone.”

“HI, I’m Marinette!” She waved happily. “He keeps mentioning he has custody. And I’ve become moderately concerned.”

“And you should be,” The other girl in the room laughed. She was a pretty brown-skinned girl with black wild curls. “Name’s Riri.”

“Harley,” Said the first boy who spoke.

“Peter,” The other boy introduced.

Marinette nodded and eyes them, “WarIron,” The pointed at Harley. “Iron Heart,” Then at Riri. “Spiderman, right?” She pointed at Peter.

The three looked at Tony with questions in their eyes. Tony raised in hands in surrender, “Hey, I told her nothing.”

Harley eyed the new girl, “You’re from Paris, right?” She nodded. “Ladybug, I’m guessing.” Marinette blushed. “Welcome to the Young Avengers, I guess. Why’d he bring you in?”

Marinette shrugged, “He said to there was a personal problem happening with the Avengers. He wanted my help.”

The teen froze. Peter just shook his head, “You didn’t, Tony!”

Tony looked sheepish.

“What?” Marinette asked.

Riri rolled her eyes, “That personal problem? It’s called ManHunt.”

“I’m sorry?” Marinette asked. She was going to have to hunt a man?

“It’s a game,” Harley explained. “Team Iron Man versus team Cap. One team hunts the other in a sort of hide and seek type of thing and tries to capture as many members as they can. Last time we played it, Team Cap crushed Team Iron man. It’s why Tony brought us all in. Revenge.”

Said Man didn’t look one bit ashamed, “Rules were since Thor and the Big guy are gone I can bring in whoever I want to replace them.”

Marinette tossed up her hands, “You brought me here to play a game?” Unbelievable.

“No,” Tony said. “I brought you here to take out the Winter Soldier.”

“Say what now?”

“Welcome to orientation,” Was All Tony said to her question.

The kids trained together for a week; Chloe, a girl named MJ who was Pepper’s other interns, and a boy named Ned who was a tech intern, were brought in as well. When it turned out that Kagami was in New York City for a fencing tournament. Tony was happy to bring in the scary girl as well. (And somehow get her mother to agree to let her stay for Spring Break) He made practice stealth and learn hand signals. Tony drilled them on the Team Cap’s strengths and weaknesses. They reviewed videos of previous missions until they had everyone’s fighting style memorized. Tony went over body anatomy aka where the best place to hit them was. They memorized plans and scenarios to take out each specific member of Team Cap.

The teens spent a lot of time in the lab creating gadgets to use against the Avengers. Each one straight out of a spy movie.

As far as Tony was concerned this was War. And there would be no prisoners.

Team Cap consisted of Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, The Falcon, Antman, along with several Shield employees which included Fury, Melinda May, and Coulson.

Team Iron man consisted of Ironman, War Machine, Vision, Maria Hill, The Wasp, Quicksilver, Daisy Johnson, and a bunch of names Stark employees: I.E the interns. (Black Panther refused to participate. Though he and sister would watch from Wakanda.)

Each team had a total of thirty players; no more, no less.

The game would take place at the compound. Anything area within the compound legal territory was free to use. The living room would be home base and were all ‘out’ people had to stay. Until they were freed. Or until every member of the hiding team was captured and then it was Game Over. Everyone could communicate with their own team using special mics; normally only taken out for missions. However, those imprisoned in the home base couldn’t communicate with their team.

On Saturday, just before sunset; the main superheroes of the avengers met up. Tony facing Steve. Rhodey glaring at Bucky. Vision versus Wanda. Hawkeye to QuickSilver. The wasp against Ant-Man and the Falcon.

Steve smiled, “Tony.”

“You ready for war, Cap?” Tony asked.

“Training exercise,” Steve corrected his husband. “I trust your team is ready.”

Tony smirked, “Oh you have no idea. Your little spies are already hiding in the shadows.”

“Like your team isn’t?”

The alarm went off.

Tony suited up, “You have 1000 seconds, Steve.” His helmet shut. “I’d get running.”

Steve rolled his eyes. His team split up, running into the growing shadows.

The game had started.

Marinette waited, hiding in the shadows on the roof. Her ladybug costume was all back with little red polka dots; mostly easy to move around body armor. This wasn’t her actually Ladybug suit; Tikki, while willing to create a new suit design, decided it wasn’t a good idea to involve magic. So Marinette designed herself a new suit, and Tony help her trick it out.

Tony had pointed out the all-good hiding spots located in the Compound. She was the overly large landing pad. She forced herself to stay completely still. Even when she saw the Falcon take flight with WarIron right on his tail.

The smallest of moments caught on the corner of her eye, the glint of metal. An arrow, she realized. She smiled. Hawkeye.

She watched the man take stock of the room, looking in every possible place a person could hide. Unfortunately for him, Marinette had a bit of luck on her side.

“All clear on the roof, Cap,” Clint said into his mic. “I’ll keep a lookout from up here.” There was silence as he listened to Cap’s orders. “Okay. Will do. Stay invisible, got it. Over and out.”

The second the conversation had ended, Marinette through a smoke bomb at his feet. Before Clint could even finish saying, “What the he-” Marinette was on the attack. Using the smoke to her advantage, she swung her yo-yo at Hawkeye’s feet. The String wrapped around his legs, tripping him. Five seconds later, Hawkeye was hogtied on the ground.

Marinette touched her mic, “Tweety Bird down. Bringing him to home base now!”

“Copy that, Ladybug,” Tony said. “Be careful.”

Clint looked up at his assailant; expecting to see Tony or the Wasp, any avenger. Instead what he saw, was a teen girl with a scary blue-eyed glare on his face, “Who are you?”

Marinette leaned down, “Your reckoning.” She hissed.

“What the fuck!” He said as he was thrown over the girl’s shoulder and carried to home base.

When Marinette got to home base, she saw Harley putting a rather put out Falcon on the ground, Spiderman with five webbed up shield agents, Chloe had brought in two, Kagami and Riri brought in six. MJ and Ned both brought in one random shield agent. Marinette tossed Hawkeye on the couch.

It had been twenty minutes, Clint knew by the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes since sunset and the game had started. And they had already lost just over half their team to a bunch of teenagers.

Clint couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had Tony unleashed on them.

“Foghorn Leghorn secure,” Harley said into his mic. “Tweety in his cage. The shadows are all accounted for.”

“I’m Tweety,” Clint told Sam.

Sam paused. “…Am I Foghorn Leghorn?”

“Wasp and Vision on their way with The Blue Fairy,” Tony’s voice rang their ears. “They’ll play guard dog. QuickSilver is down; Miss Tuffit got him. Seven minions gone; Captain Hook and his jolly crew got them. Over and out.”

“Queen Bee, MJ, guard the Home base until they get here,” Harley ordered. “Guy in the chair, Mj, back on monitor duty. Fulfill mission Top hat ASAP.” They nodded and left the room.

Top hat was important. The two were trying to hack into Team Cap’s communications, once they did; it was game over.

“The rest of you complete the assignment,” He told them.

Then all split up again. Vision and Wasp arrived with Scarlet witch just as they were leaving. All three avengers gave the kids confused looks as they left.

It would take Marinette another hour before she came across another member of Team Cap. And she didn’t so much as come across, as she did respond to Peter’s cry for help.

“Captain Sparkles!” Peter yelled in their earpiece. “Training yard. I’m trying to hold hi-No I won’t give you back your shield! Hurry! Over!”

“I’m around the corner,” Marinette hissed into the mic as she ran for the yard. When she arrived it was just in time to catch the shield that was flying at her face.

She held the shield tightly in her hand, feeling like Wonder Woman, as she stared down Captain America.

Steve looked at the young girl who had joined the fight, “My shield, miss?” He was aware that Spiderman had landed behind him.

Marinette smiled sweet. Then she launched the shield at him with such brute force, he was lifted off his feet. “The Name’s Ladybug.”

Steve didn’t catch the shield in time and it bounced back to Spiderman.

Captain America glared at the two teenagers.

Then the fight was on.

Spiderman hits Steve with his shield, distracting him. The shield falling to the ground. Ladybug barges Captain America backwards. Steve shoulders her to the floor. Marinette lands on the ground; pain flaring across her shoulder. Spiderman punches Steve who just lifts him and slams him against the ground. Spiderman raises a fist but Steve twists it. A web shoots out of his hand, the sound of a small explosion fills the training yard.

Marinette takes the distraction to trip Captain America and jump up. As Steve falls to the ground, Marinette uses the electro-shooters that Riri made and shocks the dear life out of him. It wasn’t enough to bring him down but then Peter added in his own shocking web-shooters.

Yet Steve still looked ready for another round of their fight. Marinette quickly picked up the shield and slammed it across his head. Steve Rogers fell forward in a slump.

Spiderman webbed up with quick-drying cement.

Both teens breathed heavily; struggling to catch their breath, tense from the fight. Marinette could even find it in herself to unclench the shield.

“Captain Sparkles is down, over,” Marinette said into the Mic.

“We’re bringing him in, over,” Spiderman added.

There was a moment of silence.

“…What the fuck?” They heard War Machine say.

When Marinette walked in with the shield in one hand and helping Spiderman carry Cap with the other, the avengers present quietly lost their shit. Kagami nodded, where she stood over Fury who looked more pissed than ever before in his entire life. Chloe stood over Coulson, who just looked put out. MJ and Ned looked overly pleased. Their mission had been a success but it only lasted long enough to get Fury and Coulson. After that, Team Cap was smart enough to ditch the communications, figuring something was up.

“Who’s left?” Spiderman asked in the Mic. “Over.”

“Stoneheart,” Kagami answered bitterly, referring to Melinda May, into the Mic so the team could hear them. “She took out Daisy and got away. Hill is after her now.”

“Jon Snow and Miss Tuffit,” Chloe said referring to the Winter Soldier and Black Widow. “Iron Man and WarIron are after Small fry. War Machine has eyes on Miss Tuffet.”

“I’m closing in on Miss Tuffit, over.” War Machine said.

Marinette looked at her team, pressing on her mic, “Guy in Chair, Mj, I want you on Stoneheart’s tail. Spiderman go be back up for the War Machine. Iron Heart, meet me on the Location 12. Over.”

“What are you going to do, over?” Harley asked.

Marinette clenched the shield in her hands, “I’m going to go tell Jon Snow that Winter Is Over. Queen and Dragon with me. Over.”

The battle with the Winter Soldier was epic. The showdown happened in the gym. It turned out they weren’t hunting for the Winter Soldier, the Winter soldier was hunting for them. The second they walked into the gym, the doors closed behind them.

Bucky jumped down from the rafters. He stared at the girls. He had seen them fight. None of them fought with any ounce mercy but plenty of skill. But they were clearly just kids. Just Dames in over their heads. He’d go easy on them. “Shall we, Ladies?”

Ladybug, Queen Bee, Iron Heart, and Dragon shared a look before giggling.

The Winter Soldier only just barely stood a chance.

The girls laid Bucky gently on the floor on home base. He grunted and glared at them.

A few minutes later, Tony and Rhodey walked in with the Black Widow. The last of Team Cap.

Tony smirked, “Game over.”

Rhodey shook his head, “Record time; two hours and four-two minutes. Beats the last one by about seven hours and sixteen minutes.”

Then they debriefed. Video of the fights and footage was seemed was shown so everyone could see where they could improve. The image of tiny Ladybug clocking Captain America in their head with his own shield was rewinded and watched seven times.

Tony fell over laughing, “I’m putting on Youtube!”

“I will divorce you!” Steve snapped but couldn’t fight the smile on his face.

Once The random agents of shield and Stark industries left, Steve glared at Tony. His team had gotten demolished. In record time. “You brought in outside heroes, that’s not fair.”

“No,” Tony laughed. “I brought employees of Stark Industries as agreed upon. Everyone meet WarIron,” Harley lowered his helmet. “Iron Heart,” Riri lowered his, “You know Spiderman already,” Peter took of his mask and waved. “MJ, and Ned” Both teens nodded. “Ladybug,” Marinette took off her mask. “Queen Bee,” Chloe glared as she removed hers. “Dragon!” Kagami took off her black mask. “The interns. Otherwise known as the Young Avengers.”

“Oh, fuck you too Stark,” Clint complained. “Did you see what they did to poor Bucky. He’s the deadliest assassin in history, and I felt they went a little rough.”

Bucky nodded with a wince, “Can I have my arm back.”

Steve looked at the bluenette still holding his shield, with a charming smile.

Kagami glared. She held the metal arm like trophy. “Spoils of War.”

Marinette giggled.

Being a intern was going to be fun.

#ml fic #ml salt #adrien salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #Avengers #stony #tony stark #team iron man #peter parker

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ironhusband · 4 years

Text

Rhodey is better than Steve goodnight.

~~~

Rhodey is told he wasn’t always obsessed with Captain America. His path to discovering the American hero wasn’t a short one.

His mother claimed his obsession with the patriotic symbol begun with a movie. It was a movie about a plane crash, and the whole family went. His little sister was horrified by the disaster movie, but Rhodey’s eyes sparkled as he thought of how he would fix the plane, how he would fly the passengers to safety. Already loving machines, the crash made Rhodey even more obsessed, loving the idea of being a pilot or building a plane. His teachers encouraged his interests, indulging him with stories about the Wright brothers and plane crashes and giving him plane models and sketches that Rhodey studied lovingly. His family was not happy, since the obsession came with plane toys littering the floor and Rhodey begging them to let him get on a plane, or better yet, fly one. The only one to give in was his uncle, who promised to help him build a plane. The plane was tiny but it flew, and Rhodey was ecstatic.

Once Rhodey grew a little bit older, he understood why he couldn’t fly a plane. At least not at that age. It didn’t mean he still didn’t want to.

“So how can I become a pilot?” Rhodey asked stubbornly one day.

“Well, Jimmy,” his mother begun to explain, “you could go to flight school. With your brains, you’d get right in.”

“Hmmm,” Rhodey responded, already knowing about that, but wanting a more practical solution to his career problem, “and then I can become a pilot?”

“Sure, you could fly lots of tourists,” his mother confirmed, “but you can also go to the air force. Become a fighter jet pilot.”

Rhodey seemed more interested in that, “air force?”

Since learning those words, Rhodey gained a new obsession. Once he was fifteen, he had his whole career planned out for him; he would go to MIT and study rocket science (he was always good at physics and won the science fair with his inventions without fail), and then he would be drafted, quickly rise through the ranks, until he was pilot, until he could fly.

That’s how he came to look up to Captain America as a role model.

For his fourteenth birthday, his parents took him to DC, to see the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. He was drawn to the Captain America exhibit. Logically, he knew that Captain America wasn’t a captain or part of the Air Force (he would always complain to Tony about it), but something else drew him to the patriotic symbol. Maybe it was how fast Rogers became an esteemed solider, how fame wasn’t enough of an influence for him, how he fought for the rights of minorities and against the nazis. It was all that that appealed to Rhodey.

When they left the museum, Rhodey’s arms were full of Captain America figurines, comics, posters and a few books with history and conspiracy theories.

His want to be a pilot then, combined everything he ever wanted. The sense of comrade he got from the choir, his patriotism and his will to change the world, his love for planes and rocket science, and the fact that he would be a superhero. A flying one.

~~~

Contrary to popular belief Rhodey didn’t meet Tony through an engineering course or when they became roommates; he met him through a self-indulgent course Rhodey took about “Captain America: His History and His Impact”.

Rhodey caught Tony staring at the second lecture. He smirked at him, and Tony ducked his head and wouldn’t look him in the eye. He caught Tony looking at him other times too; while he was talking with his new friends, while he was piling food on his plate at the cafeteria, while he was doing homework in the library. Rhodey didn’t mind. He knew it was a coincidence and Tony wasn’t actually following him (Tony was far too busy for that). He never did anything about the puppy crush Tony had on Rhodey, until he found his stalker at his dorm room, his second year at MIT.

“I thought my request wouldn’t get approved,” Tony admitted, “I kind of admired you from afar. That’s creepy. Sorry. I don’t have a lot of friends.”

“It’s ok,” Rhodey promised, “I requested you too. Wanted to meet my stalker. After all, we seem to like a lot of the same things. Captain America, engineering, me.”

Tony laughed.

~~~

Tony and him grew closer while being roommates. Rhodey was right, they did have a lot in common. Like a knack for getting in trouble (and in Tony’s case, for getting caught), a talent of making pretty amazing robots and being naturals at annoying nicknames. Tony opened a lot of military doors for him, and Rhodey was the one to introduce Tony to junk food. Needless to say, eventually, Rhodey begun to crush on his roommate. Never did anything about it, however, because Tony was too young for him.

When Tony walked into his childhood bedroom, Rhodey quickly excused his obsession to his crush, "Mama left everything exactly the same. Jean had been begging her to give my room, but Mama refuses so..."

“Shit, man, I thought I would be the nerd between us.”

“You still are,” Rhodey teased.

Tony shook his head, “true. However, I think I became a little less of a Captain America nerd, since meeting you. You outshine him in every way.”

Rhodey can safely say this is when he fell in love.

~~~

Years passed, and as Rhodey became a pilot, as Rhodey got into more and more dangerous situations, Tony always told him “nothing my Captain America couldn’t do.” and then begun to sing “oh captain, my captain”. It was sappy and ridiculous, but it encouraged Rhodey on his dark days.

When Tony witnessed Rhodey have a panic attack for the first time, Rhodey asked him, still shaking, “am I still Captain America to you?”

Tony kissed his forehead, hugged him tight, “you’re still even better.”

~~~

The first time Rhodey met the infamous Captain, he wasn’t as happy as he thought he’d be. No, he was jealous. Jealous because he’d been in love with Tony for more than half of his life, and now that DADT was repealed and he could do something about it... Steve just swept in and took Tony from his grasp.

Tony sat smiling on the chair in front of him, leaning on Rogers’ arm. “You know, I used to call Rhodey modern Captain America. I guess that mantle is taken now that you’re back though.”

Rhodey’s heart clenched painfully. He still couldn’t believe Rogers took that from him.

Rogers nodded politely, “yes, I read your file, Colonel. You are deserving of that title, let me tell you that.”

“I agree,” Tony said, “I’ll just have to come up with a new nickname. After all, I did only call him that because you were such a role model to him. You guys will be friends now, so that will probably be awkward if he was still as big a fan.” Tony conspiratorially whispered to Steve, “he had a bit of a crush in you. Even more than me. I got you, though. Jealous, honeybear?”

Yes, Rhodey thought, but not in the way you think. He plastered on a teasing smile, though, and said “a little less jealous now that I know Captain America was willing to settle for you.”

Tony threw bread at him and Rhodey laughed. But his heart burned.

~~~

Rhodey didn’t stop admiring Steve up until the Civil War, as the media dubbed it. He knew his negative feelings towards him were only unfair jealousy, and he still appreciated him as a fellow Avenger.

Not anymore.

They were both supposed to be separate in hospital beds, but Tony climbed into Rhodey’s bed. They were about to fall asleep when Tony whispered in the darkness, “I feel bad for ruining Captain America for you.”

Rhodey’s eyes drifted open. Registering Tony’s words, Rhodey begun to speak. “You didn’t ruin him,” Rhodey promised, “I’m mad at Steve for betraying his team, for going against the accords, for causing the fight were I lost my legs. I’m not mad at him just because of you. And if I was, it wouldn’t have started now.”

Tony looked at him sharply at that, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that I was jealous of Steve's relationship with you,” Rhodey admitted, no longer willing to hide his feelings.

“You were?” Tony whispered, “you were jealous of him?”

“Yeah. I always wanted you.”

Tony looked away, trying to hide his tears, “I should have waited for you.”

“It’s ok,” Rhodey assured him, “we have all the time in the world from now on.”

#druwrites #ironhusbands #rhfe #rhodeytony #tonyrhodey #iron husbands #james rhodes #james rhodey rhodes #rhodey #tony stark #iron man #iron patriot #war machine #ironhusbands fanfic #ironhusbands fic #rhodeytony fic #rhodeytony fanfic

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storyofmychoices · 3 years

Text

Original Murder Mystery Story

So I’ve been very uninspired as of late and I keep thinking about this novel I started almost six years ago now. I think I might take some time to work on it. I don’t know. But I thought I’d post the first chapter here incase anyone is interested in reading it. I’m not tagging anyone so this post will probably get lost in tumblr abyss and I’m okay with that. But if it doesn’t and you enjoy it, please, please let me know (like, comment, message me, reblog?!) I’ve never shared original work before so I’m quite nervous. (also, I guess, if it’s not good, please tell me (nicely of course) constructive criticism is good too.)

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to participate in an all-new reality television series. We have found that given your particular professional and personal experiences, you are an ideal fit for the cast. Official auditions will not be held for the premiere season, as the creators wish to film the entirety of the first round without the ever-watching eye of the public. In this day and age, we cannot be too careful.

Should you choose to accept our humble invitation, simply call the number below and enter your unique pin number when requested. If you choose to decline the offer, we ask that you return this letter in the enclosed self-addressed stamped envelope.

We look forward to hearing from you soon.

Our most sincere congratulations,

Truest Noon Productions

Phone: 1-800-687-3378

Pin: 58834633668

Mr. Danforth chuckled. He was far too old and out of shape to have been chosen. There must have been a mistake. No, certainly he would not be qualified for any of those reality television shows. “It’s the young folks they want,” he thought to himself. “They all want their fifteen minutes of fame. No, no. I am far too old to be getting involved in anything like that. Me on the television?” He couldn’t fathom it.

Tossing the letter onto the pile of junk mail on his desk, he put his feet up in his recliner and rested from his long day at the security office.

☆ ☆ ☆

Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Diiiiing, Dooooong. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

Ms. Drake pressed her nose against her dining room window, watching the mysterious deliveryman across the street. Her hair tightly wound in curlers, it was a wonder she could move at all without her scalp pulling off. She leaned back and took a long drag of her almost finished cigarette. She crushed the butt on a dish to her left without looking, turning her focus again to Mrs. Mulberry’s house across the street. The deliveryman continued to press the doorbell fervently.

“I wonder what that could be about,” Ms. Drake said to herself. “Who delivers mail at ten to six in the morning?”

“What was taking Mrs. Mulberry so long to answer the door?” Ms. Drake thought, changing window positions. Certainly, she would be readying for work by this time? How could she leave that poor man standing there like an idiot? Not on her watch.

Ms. Drake tightened her silk floral housecoat around herself and moved toward the door. Her slippers were ready for her morning walk to the mailbox for the paper. She typically waited until Mr. Barnes was leaving for work so they could exchange their daily salutations, but today she would deviate from her routine. After all, she couldn’t leave that poor, helpless deliveryman standing in the damp morning air. That would not be neighborly at all.

Waddling out of her house, Ms. Drake raised a hand to attract the man’s attention. “Yoo hoo. Oh, yoo hoooo.”

He turned toward the sound of Ms. Drake’s howling call. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I see you’re looking for Mrs. Mulberry. Perhaps she’s left for work already,” Ms. Drake suggested, knowing fully well that Mrs. Mulberry did not leave for work until 7:00 a.m.

“Yes, ma’am. I have been instructed to hand-deliver this letter to her,” the man held out a large blue envelope with silver calligraphy; Ms. Drake’s gaze was immediately taken by it. “I don’t suppose you know when she might return? It is of the utmost importance that she gets this letter quickly.”

“Oh, my dear,” Ms. Drake said, fluttering her eyes at the man easily thirty years her junior. “I know Mrs. Mulberry quite well; we have been neighbors for the better part of two decades. I could deliver the letter to her.”

“That’s very kind ma’am, but my directions are to place the letter in Mrs. Mulberry’s hands directly. I’m not even to leave it at her door for her. She must receive it straight away.”

“Well then, it’s a pity that you’ll not succeed in your task. I only wanted to help you on your way!” Ms. Drake turned up her pug nose at him, an attribute certainly the result of pressing it against her window far too many times over the years. “I bid you a good day then.”

Ms. Drake sulked back to her house, failing to retrieve her newspaper. What was in that envelope and why was it so important? She had to know.

“Wait,” the man called.

Ms. Drake’s curlers almost burst off her head; she could hardly contain herself. “Yes, my dear?” She slowly turned around giving the man a determined look.

“It’s urgently important Mrs. Mulberry receives this letter today; can you assure me you will get it to her?” The man asked skeptically.

“Of course, yes. Mrs. Mullberry’s letter is in safe hands with me.” She held out her thick hands in his direction, her fingers wagging invitingly.

Apprehensively, he turned the envelope over to her. “You’re a lifesaver. I really wouldn’t have had time to return this evening. I must be getting on with my other deliveries.”

“Of course, of course. What are neighbors for if not to help out those around them?”

“That’s very kind of you ma’am. Well, I better be off. Thank you, Mrs....”

“Ms. Drake,” she replied. “Ms. Cordelia Drake.”

“Well then, thank you, Ms. Drake. It has been a pleasure.” He smiled and was off.

Ms. Drake anxiously looked back at Mrs. Mulberry’s house. “Good,” she thought. “She doesn’t know yet.” Ms. Drake waddled her way back into the house, tucking the envelope under her robe.

☆ ☆ ☆

Ms. Banks swiftly pressed the numbers on her phone with her long, manicured nails. “Shoot, a voice recording.” She said quietly to herself in her soft southern accent. Ms. Isabella Banks had no trouble seeing why she would be chosen for a new television series. The blonde bombshell had won Homecoming and Prom Queen at her high school, as well as placed as runner up for Ms. Georgia. Of course, they’d want her.

Isabella practiced her award-winning smile. Yes, it would be good to be in the spotlight again. She must get through to the number. She dialed more slowly this time, speaking each number aloud as she tapped the keypad. The recording again–didn’t anyone want to talk with her directly, she wondered.

☆ ☆ ☆

Liam Flynn, a rock musician, found himself in possession of a letter welcoming him to join a reality TV pilot. “To accept is defeat,” he grumbled, tossing the letter in his overflowing trashcan. “Only washed-up artists do reality TV. I’m not that desperate.”

His greasy dark bangs fell in front of his eyes as he opened his fridge. He carelessly pushed them aside and grabbed a beer. It was the closest thing to food that he had in his apartment. “Well, maybe, I’ll just hear them out. I could plan a comeback and use this as a launching point. Yes, that’s it!” Liam retrieved the paper, dialed the number, punched in his pin number, and listened to the recorded instructions. His hopes dashed a little as he too had wished to speak with a live person.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Congratulations Mr. Martin,” read Adam. “What is it with all these scam contests? Why can’t one of these for once be legit? That would change everything.” Adam had been a star football player in high school and got a scholarship to play for the University of Michigan, but a shoulder injury took him out freshmen year. He needed some good news.

“I should give them a piece of my mind. Sending these letters, getting people’s hopes up, just to scam them. Who do they think they are?”

He furiously pounded his phone as he dialed the number. He would tell them. The second a voice spoke, he started ranting until he realized it was just a recording. “What a waste,” he thought. Well, he was this far, why not? He punched in his pin number and listened. He would receive a call in a day with further instructions. “Oh, I’m sure,” he began talking to the automated voice. “Yes, Mr. Martin, thank you for calling and verifying your award. Yes, all we need now is your bank account information, social security number, and credit cards,” he mocked.

“No, thank you.” He slammed his phone on the counter.

☆ ☆ ☆

Doctor Caitlyn Grey sat behind the large mahogany desk in her private office in Jacksonville, Florida. Her long legs crossed under her desk as she kicked her heels on and off. What a terribly boring day, she thought. Her calendar book was filled, yet Dr. Grey found her patients’ problems to be trivial. “The things people see a psychiatrist for these days.” She laughed to herself. Hadn’t she chosen this path to help people with real disorders? Why then is her day filled with people like Joan Hall who spends every minute of her bi-weekly hour-long sessions talking about her eleven cats and making cat noises? So, maybe there was an underlying cause for this behavior. When Joan had first come in, hadn’t she tried to ask questions and engage Joan? It was Joan who would not talk about herself and chose to focus only on her cats. There were fifteen of them then. “I guess that’s progress,” Dr. Grey reminisced.

“Your mail is here, Dr. Grey,” said Miranda, the good doctor’s secretary. She placed the mail on Dr. Grey’s desk.

“Thank you, and Miranda, call Antonio’s and make me a dinner reservation for tomorrow night.”

“Of course, Dr. Grey, How many?”

“Just one, but make sure you tell them to reserve my special table.”

Miranda gave a curt nod and left Dr. Grey alone with her thoughts and only the sound of her pumps popping on and off to fill the room. Dr. Grey shuffled through the mail tossing each unopened envelope back on the desk until she came across a unique blue one with silver lettering.

No return address, she noted. As she opened it, a sly smile broke across her face. A reality show really wanted a psychiatrist in its cast? Well, it would be to her advantage. She would, of course, see through their thinly veiled plots and uncover the truth. “Oh, yes,” she thought. “This could be enjoyable.”

Dr. Grey called the number and followed the instructions. She hung up the receiver and paged Miranda on the intercom. “Miranda?”

“Yes, Dr. Grey?”

“Be a dear and clear my schedule for next Tuesday. I’ve just received a call about an urgent meeting I must attend.”

“Of course, Dr. Grey. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes. I believe everything will be just splendid.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Truest Noon Productions. How lame,” Emma Riley decided. And yet, something about the name intrigued her. She had never heard of them before. She sat pondering the content of the letter. The twenty-one-year-old college student attended New York University with an undeclared major. She had entered the school when she was seventeen and had jumped from program to program. Why would anyone want her on television? She was a loner, who cared less about reality television than the over-hyped pop artists with whom radio stations are determined to melt listeners’ brains. And yet, this one intrigued her.

Emma pulled up a search engine on her computer and entered “Truest Noon Productions.” A dozen websites popped up in the results, but none an exact match. She couldn’t find any digital record of the company at all. She searched the phone number in hopes of pulling up a business listing. Nothing. She tried the address on the return envelope. Nothing. According to the map app on her phone, the address didn’t even exist. How could it not exist?

“I guess they really are keeping this show under wraps,” she contemplated. Emma stared at the letter and read it over and over again. There was just something about it, something peculiar. What was it?

She held the paper up to the light, but only found a logo imprinted in the threads of the paper. Unable to discover what was puzzling her, about the letter, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number. She pressed ‘0’ hoping to be transferred to a live person. It was no use; there was only the recording.

☆ ☆ ☆

Ms. Drake sat in the kitchen, her curious hands clutching the envelope. It was too thick and dark to see through. She had tried holding it up to the sun and a lamp. Neither came close to illuminating the contents. The envelope was sealed tightly, so there was no chance of accidentally opening it. Steam, she thought. She quickly boiled a large pot of water holding the envelope carefully over it. It was taking too long.

“He did say it was urgent,” she remarked. “Maybe I should open it, just in case it’s time-sensitive. Yes, yes, I think that will do.”

She took her letter opener and carefully broke the seal. “A reality television series? Mrs. Mulberry? No, it couldn’t be. They must have the wrong person,” Ms. Drake shook her head in protest. Then, she got an idea. The letter wasn’t actually addressed to Mrs. Mulberry at all. The envelope certainly was, but the letter was nameless. “I shouldn’t,” she muttered while grabbing the phone and dialing the number. “Well, who could it really hurt?” She admitted to herself. She couldn’t imagine Mrs. Mulberry accepting, and why should the opportunity go to waste?

(if you are interested in more and want to be tagged, please let me know)

((also if you made it this far OMGOSH HI AND THANK YOU 🥺😭))

#original work #original story #🙈#writing #novel #mystery #writer problems #writer #story #work in progress #delete later

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thereluctantinquisitor · 3 years

Text

WIP Whenever

Thank you for the tag @captainsaku! At the moment, I’m still limping through the opening chapters of Stonebreaker, trying to get a feel for the story and work on strengthening my atrophied writing muscles. Anyway, I figured I’d share what I have so far of Adiran’s introductory chapter. It’s basically just an awkward, descriptive mess, but at least it’s something. At this point, I’ll count that as a win!

I also put a short glossary at the end in case some terms were confusing. <3

Chapter 3 - A Scene

Be present. Do not cause a scene.

They were simple enough requests, Adiran supposed, as he braced himself and drained his third flute of wine. He knew it was poor form to cringe after swallowing, but the dry white was about as pleasant as a mouthful of sand and only went down half as well. If he was the paranoid type, he’d think the servers were offering him the worst vintages on purpose.

Then again, the celebration had stretched into its ninth day, now. Even the royal cellars had a limit.

Despite overstaying its welcome, the event remained at a predictably lofty height of splendour. In the ballroom - Vetrose’s famed Silver Font - delicate rivulets of water, no wider than the span of a hand, curled their way across the marble floor, draining into a shallow pool at the base of the royal thrones. Above their heads, weavelight strings were draped elegantly between pillars and across wide arches, their glowing pinpricks joining the blazing chandelier to bathe the room a honey-gold.

Beneath that radiant light, the Talveran nobility moved like swans, jewellery glittering, ankle-length gowns and embroidered jackets flashing enough to catch the attention of nesting crows. Hundreds packed the Font that night - an entirely different crowd to the evening prior, and likely the one prior to that. Attending Talveran court, with its litany of demands and expectations, was an exhausting and expensive affair. Every evening demanded a new outfit. A new glittering showpiece. A new plan for navigating the treacherous waters of social interaction, careful not to show too much interest in any one person. One night was difficult enough to survive. Very few could afford to be present for an entire turn’s worth of celebration.

Unfortunately, Adiran had no choice in the matter. It just had to be his brother returning from the northern border. As if no one else had ever come back from that waste of a campaign.

Another mouthful. Another weary swallow of something half as strong as it needed to be. Honestly, he’d almost rather be swallowing sand. At least that meant he’d be in the arena, getting his ass kicked practicing for something that mattered, instead of wasting his time decorating the wall. Divider’s Own, Lorvain was meant to have arrived by the third day! Adiran might have been able to slip away if he had been around to soak up the attentions of the lords and ladies. But no. The beloved Crown Prince had probably stopped to fawn over milkmaids and shepherds at every town between here and Morgate. Really, they should have accounted for that before throwing such a ridiculous event...

A prince should want to know his people, Adiran. I thought you understood that?

Threading paths expertly between the nobility were almost three dozen servers dressed in vibrant Volise green. Silver trays were held aloft on the pads of their gloved fingers as they moved in rehearsed patterns around the room, making sure every hand that sought a glass found a delicate stem. It was a different sort of dance; the kind that typically went unnoticed, the same way a clock’s hands are appreciated more than the mechanism behind the face. They knew the position of every crack in the stone; every rivulet.

None of them ever looked down.

Speaking of timing, the only reason Adiran paid the servers any heed was to make sure he got his right. On cue, he finished his wine with a grimace and thrust it towards a well-groomed young woman, her dark hair braided and pinned neatly around her head. Without so much as an errant blink, she bobbed carefully at the knees, accepted the glass, and replaced it with a new one from her tray.

“Careful not to drop that,” Adiran said, taking the drink and giving it an experimental sniff. Sweeter. Thank the Divider for that.

The server hesitated. They always did. Every night. “Your Highness?” she asked, and her lilt was perfection. Just the right amount of simpering, blended with polite curiosity. Someone had taken her training seriously.

“Am I slurring already? What I’m saying is that if the Crown Prince finally shows up and you’re in the middle of mopping a puddle, the King will have your hide for saddle leather. So...” He extended one bored finger towards the tray, a smirk curling the corner of his lips. “Tread lightly.”

The server’s mouth opened, and for a moment no sound followed. For just one blissful, fleeting second, Adiran thought he’d finally done it. He’d finally won.

Then, like underappreciated clockwork, her lips shaped themselves into a beatific smile, and she dipped into a curtsy. The tray never even wobbled. “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. On my word, I will remain diligent. I would not dare bring shame on our King’s house.”

Damn it. The smile Adiran flashed back - half a sneer - could cut glass. But the server had already completed her parting bob and returned to her dance, weaving and gliding among the gaggle of silver-bloods with her tray of weak wine. Expression turning brittle, Adiran huffed and leaned back against one of the massive marble pillars - just one of fifteen lining the room. He’d claimed it on the first evening, like a hound staking its territory. Most people knew better than to bother him once he’d found his haunt, but the serving staff simply didn’t have that luxury. He supposed it was probably unkind, to force them to speak to him. But Divider, he was just so bored...

Scowling, he took a long swallow of his new drink, the chilled, sweet liquid a welcome enough sensation as it ran down the back of his throat.

So he was unkind. So what?

“Are you finished losing to the servers for tonight, or should I come back later?”

A familiar voice, and right on time. Adiran gave no indication of surprise, barely even turning to acknowledge the man. After all, this was just another ritual for them; a way to take a knife to long hours of affluent, barely drunk loitering. “Yeah, I’m done. An earthquake couldn’t shake them.” His gaze finally cut across, delivering what he hoped was a scathing look as Riin settled against the pillar beside him. “Took you long enough. Get distracted by all the pretty gowns and pouting lips?”

Folding his arms across his broad chest, Riin chuckled softly, utterly immune to Adiran’s glare. “Could you blame me if I was? Everyone looks appealing under this light.”

“That’s generous of you.” Sniffing, Adiran glanced up. Even with the smoke-glass covers encasing each glowing orb, he still had to squint against the brightness of the weavelights. “Guess it could be worse. We looked more like corpses before the covers were put on.”

“Really? I’m glad I missed it.”

“Yeah. Being dead inside is more than enough.”

Riin laughed, and a faint smile curved Adiran’s lips. He quickly hid it behind his glass. Truthfully, the entire ‘weavelight saga’ had been ridiculous. The King and Queen had commissioned hundreds of them from Tel Shival, purely because no one else had ever done it. Even the wealthiest families only ever had a few per household, usually kept in a lantern or a sconce in the most frequented rooms. After two seasons of painstaking arrangement that nearly killed two of their staff, the Silver Font soon found itself bathed in a thematically violent silver light. It had been an exciting novelty, at first; nobility flooded in from all over Talvera just to bask in the glow of thousands of wasted sicets. But then they quickly realised that colours didn’t behave the same way. Their favourite jewellery didn’t catch the eye. Their skin didn’t appear as youthful and rosy. Instead, every flaw - every stray hair or unpolished button - was placed on stark display for the vultures to pick at.

The weavelights were as bleak and clinical as a physicker’s ward. They sucked the warmth out of everything they touched.

In Adiran’s mind, the wash of corpse-light over each soiree was a perfectly fitting thing. But, as was typical, no one else agreed. So, they decided to encase each of the weavelights in honey-tinted glass and returned the room to almost exactly how it looked before. Back when it was lit by oil and flame.

That was how things were in Talvera. Decisions were made, sicets were spent, and then everyone just wanted to go back to how things used to be. Like nothing had ever happened.

GLOSSARY

Weavelight - spheres of crystal or glass, with a light-bearing glyphstring engraved by a thaumist specialising in Weaving. Maintains a bright, steady silver light. Cannot be dimmed or turned off at will. Thaumist - a well-trained practitioner of the thaumic arts, capable of manipulating thaumic essence. Turn - ten days. Tel Shival - An independent, famously insular city dedicated to the training and cultivation of thaumists and thaumaturgical study. Sicet - Currency used in the Allied Kingdoms.

---

Tagging: @frenchy-and-the-sea, @leothelionsaysgrrrr, @bladeverbena, @thefluffynug, @rufinagertrude, @arduyn, @anarchyduck, and anyone else who has a WIP they’d like to share!

#wip whenever #(because i always miss wednesday lol)#reluctant memes #stonebreaker series #adiran #riin #the more i read it the more i dont really like it but #just... gotta... MOVE ON....#hURGH #reluctant writes

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

Text

First Time

A/N: Back with some more fluff! I was gonna wait a few weeks to post this, to really tweak it, but I love it too much and it’s so fluffy so I decided to share it now 😌 So please enjoy what I think taking a bath with Shawn for the first time would be like!!

And thank you to everyone who has reblogged my work or said nice words to me 🥺 It really makes me heart flutter and I swear one day I’m gonna print all of the nice words out and put them in a book bc you all are too nice 😪

THANKS A MILLION for all of your support! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 🤗💞🌻

REQUEST/PROMPT: Slipping into warm water

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Two swear words & being naked (but like nothing ~happens…it’s just a bath)

Word Count: 3.9K

Shawn was stressed.

You knew he was pushing his creativity to maximum capacity when he would come back to his apartment with eyes that looked completely drained, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before retreating his bedroom.

He was currently in the midst of writing and recording his next album. And he was feeling the pressure from his fans, industry executives, and himself to put out an album even better than his self titled record.

But how can I achieve something better than that, he would say with a strained voice, his head buried into his hands, it was nominated for a Grammy.

You tried your best to reassure him; that his fans, the executives, and you would love whatever he put out if he had his heart and soul in it. You had no idea what the woes of fame did to a person’s self-esteem and would never know the pressure of releasing a record. But you knew that Shawn was a people pleaser. He wanted to make everyone happy even if it came at his expense.

At a loss for not knowing what to do to cheer him up, you called Aaliyah.

“He hasn’t done it in a while…” her tone was thoughtful, but then she backtracked, “But I dunno if he would want me to tell you.”

“A, please,” you begged your boyfriend’s younger sister as you stretched out on the couch, “I’m looking for anything. He’s so stressed, he’s barely eating the salad that I make sure he takes with him before he leaves.”

She rushed out her sentence in one breath, “Helikestotakebaths.”

You sat up, “He what?”

With your question, Aaliyah let out a sigh and repeated herself more slowly this time, “He likes to take…baths.”

“A bath?”

There was hesitancy on the other end before adding in an important detail, “Sometimes with…bubbles.”

“Oh?”

“And maybe,” her voice was barely above a whisper, “some candles.”

A small smile graced your lips, your boyfriend surprised you more and more everyday, “Really?”

“You have to swear to me you won’t tell him I told you,” Aaliyah said in an assertive tone, “He cannot know I told you.”

You nodded your head with a smile on your face, you were happy to have gotten something to help Shawn de-stress, “Swear on my life––You’re the best, A.”

After catching up with Aaliyah and hearing what she’s been up to the past few weeks, she had to go and do some chores she’d been procrastinating for a few days. You bid her goodbye, thanking her again for her help and promising her again to not tell her brother that she let his secret slip.

You hung up and looked at the time. Three o’clock. You had an hour or so before Shawn was due back so you hopped off the couch and made your way to the master bathroom. With your hands on your hips, you looked at the tub with a questioning gaze. Not once had you ever thought that Shawn was someone who was into baths. You didn’t even think he had touched the faucet of the big white tub.

But you were trusting Aaliyah with your life so you got to work.

First, you checked the cabinets under the sink for any bubble bath supplies. No luck. Next, you checked the medicine cabinet for anything. Rummaging through extra bottles of shampoo, soap, cologne…you were about to give up, but there was no other place Shawn would keep anything bathroom related. He was very particular with how he organized his apartment. Group like things together, Shawn tsked you when he helped you move into your new apartment, that way things will never get lost.

He was right; grouping like things together did make it easier to find certain things when you thought they were misplaced. And you thanked the heavens above when you knelt down on the ground, pushing a few empty cardboard boxes aside, to find a little plastic basket with some bubble bath supplies.

You made a mental note to text Aaliyah another thank you.

Dragging out the basket, you looked in and saw that the bubbles he had weren’t anything expensive. Just a regular run of the mill brand name bubbles. Usually Shawn liked to splurge on some stuff if he never got the chance to do it often, and with Aaliyah saying he never took baths often, it made you wonder what was holding him back from buying really nice bubbles. And in the basket were also two lavender scented candles.

You took the candles out immediately and found some matches hidden in the basket as well. Candles could burn for a long time and it was better to get a head start on those than forget them later on.

With the scent of lavender filling up the room, you took your phone out and texted Shawn: Any idea when you’ll be back? :)

You didn’t want to run the bath too early, fearing that the water would get cold before he even got back to his place.

You unlocked your phone when it buzzed in your hand: Just leaving now. So tired. Be home in twenty? Something like that.

Your heart dropped when you read his message. So tired. Maybe he wouldn’t be up for a bath? Maybe he just wanted to go to bed?

No, you told yourself, he’s been stressed and unhappy and deserves something relaxing.

You waited five minutes before opening up the Find My Friends app and clicked on Shawn’s name to track his location. You saw his little circle of a contact picture moving down a street, the app telling you he was fifteen minutes away.

Game time, you hyped yourself up as you turned on the faucet to the bath. You ran your hand under the water until it was at a slightly hotter temperature than comfortable. You figured that if you ran the water fairly hot right now, it would be at a comfortably warm temperature by the time Shawn got back. So you put the plug in the drain and watched the tub slowly fill up with water. When it was a quarter of the way full, you got the bottle of bubbles and squeezed only a little bit in. You pampered yourself with a bubble bath one time and accidentally put in too many bubbles which ended up being disastrous.

And you didn’t want this to be disastrous for Shawn. It was supposed to be relaxing. And Lord knows he wouldn’t be relaxed if you flooded his bathroom.

Once the bath was filled to the appropriate height, you turned the faucet off. Admiring your work, you didn’t hear the front door open.

“Y/n?”

Shawn’s voice rang through his apartment as butterflies fluttered throughout your stomach. You hurriedly exited his bathroom, walked through his bedroom and greeted him in the kitchen.

You walked in with a glowing smile on your face, a skip in your step, but when you saw him sitting on one of the barstools, arms resting on the island with his head buried deep, your smile dropped.

Cautiously, you walked up behind him and slid your arms up his back and began to softly rub his shoulders. He looked absolutely drained and it broke your heart. Sure, you knew artist’s liked to pour their everything into creating music, but this was borderline insane.

You pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck, not exactly knowing what to say. If you asked him about the studio, he would say something that would belittle himself for not writing or singing well enough. If you asked how he felt, he would just tell you that he felt tired.

But luckily you didn’t have to say anything. With his head still tucked away, he let out a low hum, “Missed you.”

The only thing you concentrated on was how exhausted he sounded.

“Missed you too,” you brought your hands to wrap around his torso, leaning forward and hugging him from behind, “Long day?”

You felt his back release a deep deep sigh, “The longest.” You were second guessing the bath that was drawn. He sounded like all he wanted to do was sleep for the next ten years, “Just wanna be with you.”

And then an idea struck your mind.

The bath was originally meant to just only be for Shawn. You wanted him to have time for himself, something he rarely had nowadays, but with his confession of wanting to be with you…

You unwound your arms from him and brought your arms to pull him up by his shoulders. With a groan, he sat up all the way, but his eyes were still closed, “I really just wanna sleep––“

“Come with me,” you interrupted him as you took his hands and helped him up from the bar stool. He followed you, but with slumped shoulders and eyes barely open. He paused in the middle of his bedroom, the arm that connected your hand that held his, over stretching as you kept walking.

He pulled his eyebrows together, “Sleep?”

You let out a small laugh, he sounded like a toddler, speaking only the bare minimum. Shaking your head you tugged his hand, “I have one small thing for you before we go to sleep.”

“But, Y/n––“

“Trust me.”

He continued to stay put in the middle of his room. He glanced back at his bed, the sheets tempting him to crawl under and pass out. But then he looked at you, your eyes pleading with him to follow you. He gave into your eyes; he always did.

You tugged on his hand once more before he trailed behind you. You smiled at the smell of lavender that was more prevalent now than it was when you first lit the candles up. The bathroom lights were dimmed, but when you looked over your shoulder, you saw Shawn looking at the bath, then at you, at the candles, and back at you.

“What is––Did you do this?”

Turning your body to face him you gave his hand a slight squeeze as you stepped forward to him, toes touching, “You’ve been so stressed and I thought this might help relax you.”

His eyes continued to dart between the bath, the candles, and you, “But this––the bath––For me?”

You nodded your head with a shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to do something nice,” his eyes were now intensely staring into your own, if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand, the stare would’ve intimidated you. But his eyes were just concentrating; they were concentrating on you and you saw the love in them.

“And I thought…” Your eyes fell from his momentarily, suddenly growing shy about your next request, “Maybe…We could like go in…Together?”

He was silent.

It was not the response you were expecting and your stomach dropped, “Never mind,” you waved your free hand in the air, “I made the bath for you so you should enjoy it––You haven’t had any space to yourself, so you–––“

“God, yes,” Shawn’s eyes closed for the second time tonight, but they weren’t closed out of exhaustion, they were closed in pure bliss as he imagined a bath with you, “Please come in the bath.”

Your cheeks heated up as you rocked back on your heels, “Okay.”

You and Shawn had never taken a bath together; mainly for the reason that you didn’t know he took baths. And it seemed like you were crossing a line into uncharted territory. Sure, you’ve shared intimate moments together, seen each other naked, and shared your strongest fears with each other. But there was something about taking a bath with Shawn that seemed even more intimate than all of those combined.

Shawn let go of your hand as he clutched the hem of his shirt, crossing his forearms before peeling the shirt over his head. You slowly peeled your socks off, one by one, then stripped yourself of your leggings.

He folded his shirt and set it on the ground before his hands trailed down to the button on his jeans. You watched his careful fingers undo the button and slowly unzip the zipper of his jeans. He looked up at you through his curls, catching you staring at him, and smiled at you before pulling his jeans down past his thighs, wiggling them off his calves.

Much like his shirt, he folded his pants and set them aside.

Clad in just his underwear, he stepped forward in front of you, toes touching toes. You were scared and you didn’t know why. It’s just Shawn, you scolded yourself, there’s no need to feel scared. The more you two just stood in front of each other in silence, you realized that the feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t fear, it was nerves. You were nervous to strip off another level of yourself and become even more vulnerable with him.

He played with the hem of your shirt, eyes peering into yours silently asking if it was alright to take it off. You lifted your arms over your head instead of offering him a verbal response. He slipped your shirt over your head, kissed your cheek softly when it was off, folded it up, and placed it with his clothes.

Both of you stood in your underwear, waiting to see each other’s next move. Shawn seemed to grasp the emotion behind taking a bath––it was such a simple way of displaying affection––but neither one of you had done this before. Neither one of you had taken a bath with any of your previous significant other’s. It would be a first time for something that the two of you would share together.

Staring deep into your eyes, Shawn slowly brought his hands to his underwear and pulled them down his legs. Your eyes never left his as he shimmied out of them, not bothering to pick them up and fold them like his other articles of clothing.

“If you…” he started off slowly, “If you don’t want me to look or like…aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to come in,” He took your hand and loosely held it between your bodies, “You can go to bed or…Or you can just sit on the ledge,” he gave your hand a squeeze, “I just really missed you today.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if you were capable of saying anything. You were mesmerized with the carefulness of his tone, how he had just come from a hard day at work, but he wanted you to feel comfortable. You didn’t think you could love him anymore than you did in this moment.

With one last squeeze, he released your hand as he made his way toward the white bathtub. Your back was facing him, but you knew his movements too well that you could picture him; reaching the tips of his fingers in to test the warmth of the water before slowly sinking a foot in. You heard the water move, you guessed that he was standing in the tub now, getting used to the water before he fully sank into the heat.

You knew he was fully submerged when you heard him let out a groan. You glanced over your shoulder and saw his knees bent, limbs too long to fit fully inside the tub, as he rested his head on the back of the tub with his eyes shut tight.

With a deep breath, you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your shoulders. You let your shoulders fall as you took another deep breath, carefully sliding your underwear down over your thighs, past your calves, and slightly bent down to unhook them from your feet. And unlike Shawn, you picked up both of your underwear from the floor, and neatly folded them, placing them next to the clothes he had folded.

The bathroom air felt cold around your body, but the eyes you felt on your back lit your insides on fire.

Turning toward the tub slowly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and saw Shawn staring into your eyes. Any other boy, you thought, any other boy would be trailing his eyes all over your body. But not Shawn, a shy smile creeped up on your lips; Not Shawn.

Your eyes stayed connected all throughout the few steps you took to the tub, the nerves still bubbling in your stomach. But with the nerves came love. With love came adoration. And with adoration came the boy who was sitting in the tub, patiently waiting for you to join him.

Shawn lifted his arm from the confines of the water and held it out to you. With water droplets falling from his arm, you took hold of his hand, not even testing the water temperature before you stepped in one foot at a time. You trusted that if Shawn was fine with the temperature, then you wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You lowered yourself into the bubbles, the heat of the water loosening up every tense muscle you didn’t know existed, as you sat on the opposite side of the tub from Shawn. With your body submerged up to your collar bones, the cold porcelain on your back was a soothing contrast from the heat of the water.

Your eyes were closed as you enjoyed unwinding in the tub. While you made the bath for Shawn, you were glad you decided to join. Under the water, you felt the toes of his right foot glide up and down your calf. You opened your eyes to see him with a lazy half smile, “Will you come here?”

You bit your lip to conceal a grin, but nodded, placing both hands on the ledges of the tub. Your chest was covered with bubbles, but they were slowly trickling off your body, exposing your breasts to Shawn. But like the whole night, Shawn’s eyes were looking into his favorite color; your eyes.

Moving forward, you twisted yourself to turn around, your back facing him, as he brought a hand up to grip your thigh, slowly lowering yourself down on his lap. You leaned back on his chest as the water began to still, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

It was just you and Shawn in the bathroom, back pressed against his chest, but he still whispered. The thank you he whispered held more meaning than those two words. He was saying I’m thankful for you, I’m lucky to have you in my life, I’m in love with you.

You closed your eyes as his arms rounded your waist and you kissed his neck; suddenly hyper aware of everything around you. You felt the hair on his legs brush up against yours, smelled the lavender wafting through the air, heard the single droplets of water that fell from the spout echo in the tub, and saw the love Shawn held for you in his eyes.

“I wrote a song about you today,” Shawn piped up, voice small and unaware of how you were going to react.

“Really?”

His statement piqued your interest, he was usually closed lipped about what went on during his studio sessions. You knew some musicians had weird superstitions, and you never pried Shawn on information he didn’t want to share with you regarding his album. And you never took it to heart, knowing that you would still get to hear the finished cut of the album before the general public.

Shawn sunk further into the tub, taking you with him, “I’ve written lots of songs about you,” he shared. You turned your face up to look at him better. You were met with his sharp jawline, his eyes dreamily facing forward as he smiled at the melody he wrote for you that played in his head, “Why I’ve been so tired.”

“Oh?” You said it playfully, a smirk toying at your lips, “Loving me is tiring?”

Shawn squeezed your hips under the water, “You know what I mean,” he finally looked down at you, “Just have so many feelings about you running through my head all the time.”

You let out a small laugh, “Good to know.”

“You’re on my mind all hours of the day,” again even though you were alone, he whispered his words softly, as if exchanging a secret, “Can’t get enough of you.”

Shawn pressed a kiss as soft as his words to your growing smile. You were having a hard time kissing him back, so overcome with elation, that you never thought your smile would disappear.

Once he stopped trying to pry kisses from you, he knew he would get a good kiss before you headed to bed, he rested his head on top of yours, “This is just what I needed,” he let out his millionth sigh of the night, “I love baths.”

You smiled in satisfaction, “That’s what I’ve heard.”

You noticed the loss of contact when Shawn picked his head up from yours. He looked down at you with a questioning stare, “Heard? Who told you?”

Shit.

“I uh––Read it in one of your interviews,” You stammered, not wanting to break your trust with Aaliyah. While you loved Shawn and would choose his side no matter what, you made a promise to his sister that you intended to keep, “GQ.”

Shawn shook his head, a smirk growing more and more on his lips, “Never discussed taking baths with GQ.”

“Billboard?” His smirk widened with another wrong answer, “Variety? Rolling Stone––“

“Aaliyah told you, didn’t she?”

You rapidly shook your head, but you felt your eyes widen, blowing your cover. But you still held out your promise to Aaliyah and denied his accusations, “Haven’t talked to her in a while, I should probably give her a call, you know? See how school’s going for her, see if she needs any boy advice–––“

“First off,” Shawn cut you off, “No to giving her boy advice. She’s too young––“

“It’s how we bond!” Your laugh caused the water to ripple, “It’s not like I haven’t given it to her before.”

“That’s a conversation for a different time,” he shot you a fake glare, before his smirk reappeared and a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes, “She’s the only person who knows I like baths when I’m stressed.”

You didn’t know how you could argue with that. No amount of bullshitting could get you out of the corner you backed yourself into. With a sigh, you lifted your back off his chest and twisted your body to face him, “I wanted to do something for you,” you brought your hand up to cup his face, he leaned into your touch, “You were getting so lost in yourself and I couldn’t think of anything. So I called her up.”

Shawn nodded against your palm, turning his head to press a gentle kiss on the inside of your hand, “I really do appreciate this––you. This is the best thing to happen to me all week. Thank you.”

You smiled at him before fitting yourself back up against his chest. You stayed in the water with him until your fingers pruned up and the water went cold.

#here's it the fluff #so 😊 much 😊 fluff 😊#so much compassion and kindness sdkfjsdkf #but like…I bet he's really sweet when taking a bath #does he take baths???#QUESTION TIME: is Shawn a bath or shower person???#what do you think his preferences is???#and yes im just as curious about this as I am with his wine preference #but I am DEFINITELY more interested in his wine preference #anyway enough rambling #I hope you all enjoy this!!! let me know your thoughts!!!!#thanks!!! love you all to bites!!! thanks a million!!!!#*bits omg I hate autocorrect #Shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn mende fanfic #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes fan fic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes ff #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes fanfictions #Shawn Mendes blurbs #Shawn Mendes one shots #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes oneshots

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specterchasing-a · 3 years

Text

I Won’t Bite || Kyle & Eddie

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: The Bloody Stake

PARTIES: @darkh0wl & @specterchasing

SUMMARY: A chance meeting followed by... a lot. It’s just a lot.

CONTENT: Suicidal ideations & head trauma.

It was a slow night at the Bloody Stake; just a couple regulars nursing their drinks quietly. Kyle stood behind the bar, drying glasses. He could fall asleep standing up, right there. He wouldn’t do that, of course. He was in the middle of a probationary period at work. Apparently, employers don’t like it very much when you leave without a word in the middle of a shift. They like it even less when they hear screams coming from the alleyway and find the alley covered in blood. Kyle not contacting his boss for two days after, and the boss’ car being dented by a large animal--that didn’t help his case either. Kyle was in deep shit for that. Thin fucking ice. So he dried the glasses and willed himself to find something to focus on that wasn’t how tired he was.

Spotting someone at the bar who wasn’t a regular, Kyle’s brow furrowed. The guy looked familiar to say the least. “Hey, you’re that YouTuber, right? Didn’t we go to high school together?”

For Eddie, a night out usually meant visiting one of the many White Crest cemeteries, or perhaps the woods. When he felt particularly daring, he ventured all the way to The Bend. Tonight, however, he found himself at a bar, one with a reputation he could appreciate. Filming within The Bloody Stake would be like asking the patrons to usher him into an early grave, so he opted out of his usual role of documentarian. Instead, he seated himself at the bar and allowed the atmosphere to wash over him.

While Eddie observed the crowd in muted reverence, a voice pulled him out of his trance. “Huh?” he responded abruptly, his head snapping in the direction of the voice’s source. It took him a moment to register what had been said. “Yeah, nail on the head, that’s me,” he said fondly before his brow furrowed slightly. The employee mentioned knowing him from high school and Eddie could feel his name on the tip of his tongue. Keiran? No. Kirk? Also no. “Kyle,” he finally recalled with recognition shining in his eyes, but they quickly dimmed.

Eddie remembered Bex screaming; the way she begged for mercy. The wolf—she called him Kyle, didn’t she? It could’ve been a coincidence, ‘Kyle’ wasn’t an unusual name, but he still felt uneasy. If this man hurt Bex, Eddie needed to do something about that, right? He forced his smile back into place. “So, how the hell are you, man? Gotten up to much since I last saw you?”

If Kyle noticed anything awry, he said nothing. His eyes drifted over Eddie, then flicked back down to the glass in hand. He’d forgotten how cute Eddie was and now his stomach fluttered with unexpected nervousness. Why was he nervous? They were just two dudes at the bar being dudes at the bar. No need to worry there. “I’m--” (Good? No, that was a lie. He definitely wasn’t good. His grip on shifting was slim at best and felt like it was getting worse every day. Fine? No, that wasn’t right either. He’d nearly killed at least one person in the past month, and had ample opportunity to do it again. That didn’t exactly constitute for good or fine.) “--hanging in there,” he said, with a smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes. “Still hanging out in this weird ass town, but I’m sure you know all about that.” Kyle wasn’t exactly a fan. He definitely wasn’t subscribed to Eddie’s channel. But he’d seen a handful of videos; enough to know that Eddie was unearthing all the mysteries of White Crest one at a time. Kyle thought it reckless to do so. The more he found out about White Crest, the more danger he was in. Setting the glass aside and picking up another, Kyle leaned against the bar. “How’s the internet fame treating you?”

Eddie’s eyes remained trained on Kyle’s face almost as if he expected to find the answers to his unspoken questions about Bex etched into his features. He noticed the smile and, more importantly, the way his eyes looked comparatively dim. Kyle didn’t seem like a vicious monster. Mostly, he just seemed kind of sad. Adulthood suited him though; he looked good despite the invisible baggage he carried.

When Kyle mentioned Eddie’s familiarity with the weirdness of White Crest, he shrugged slightly as his smile transformed into a smirk. “Sure do, and I love every minute of it.” He adored the danger shrouding his hometown, it kept him from getting bored. The conversation shifted when Kyle put the spotlight on Eddie. “Pretty damn great, actually. I don’t… I mean, I probably wouldn’t call myself famous, but yeah. I’m really proud of what I’m doing.” His head tilted slightly as he momentarily assessed Kyle. “What about you, Kyle? Doin’ anything you’re proud of these days?” His expression harbored no ill-will, but his intentions weren’t entirely pure.

Eddie talking about himself put Kyle at ease, even for just a moment. He didn’t want to talk about himself. He didn’t want to think about himself. “You’ve had at least a couple viral videos or something, right?” he asked. “I don’t know much in the way of YouTube fame, but I’d say that’s pretty good.” He set aside another glass and picked up a third from the sink. “I’m glad you’ve found something you enjoy.” He wasn’t being disingenuous, he was happy for Eddie. It wasn’t every day you found a passion you could toss yourself into as wholeheartedly as Eddie seemed to be.

If Eddie’s responses had put Kyle at ease before, this question had the opposite effect on him. He tensed immediately, glancing up at Eddie. He half expected a taunting look or a smug smirk. Something that would indicate the question was as loaded as it felt. “Uh--” The wet glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. “Shit,” he hissed as he hurriedly started scooping up the bigger pieces with his towel. “Um, I--” What did he have to be proud of? Nothing, really. There was specifically more to be deeply ashamed of lately. “Gimme a second,” he mumbled, grabbing a nearby broom brush and dustpan, and sweeping the glass up. Once that was done, he stood back up and looked at Eddie. He couldn’t know, could he? Bex wouldn’t tell anyone. Right? “Wh-what was the question?”

The glass in Kyle’s hand fell to the floor and shattered. Eddie winced at the sound and tried not to feel guilty. A few curious patrons turned their heads to gawk at the source of the commotion. Whatever doubts Eddie had about Kyle being the Kyle dissipated. It was plain to see how guilty his conscience was. He needed to make a choice. Either, he could treat Kyle like the wolf who nearly ripped Bex to shreds, or he could treat him like the man with sad eyes and kind words.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry—forget I even asked. I should’ve known it was a kinda heavy question,” Eddie responded with an awkward laugh. “I’ve always been lousy at small talk, it’s my fatal flaw.” An unfortunate thought occurred to him, causing his lips to purse. “They’re not gonna make you pay for that, right? I’ll cover the cost, if they do. It’s the least I can do after hurling you into an existential crisis.” Eddie liked the man better than the wolf, anyway. Maybe, he could even figure out how to help bring some light back into his eyes.

Kyle’s eyes searched Eddie’s face for any sign that he knew, but then he was talking and he definitely knew. Had Bex told him? Had he asked? Was this part of being a medium, or whatever, that he didn’t understand? His stomach twisted up and his heart jumped up to his throat. “How did you…?”

He sighed shakily. It was okay, he and Bex had never agreed to a code of silence or anything. She was free to talk about it if she wanted to. It was healthy for her, rather than keep it all bottled up. Kyle just had to breathe for a minute. Being at work, thinking about it at work—it felt wrong. It felt bad. Breathe. He just had to steady himself for a minute. It was fine. “I, uh, guess my new reputation precedes me.” His voice was even; a practiced calm. “I’m gonna go outside for a smoke. If you want to talk, you can come along. If you want. I won’t bite.”

Eddie’s heart sank when Kyle immediately saw through his attempt to conceal the truth. Before tonight, Eddie suspected he would have some choice words for Kyle should they ever meet, potentially more than words. But, now that he sat mere inches away from him, he felt sorry for him. The urge to comfort Kyle came as a surprise; he seemed so distant and alone.

“She didn’t mean to…” Eddie trailed off, he knew the bar wasn’t the right location for this discussion. Apparently, Kyle felt the same way. “Yeah, man, you got it,” he replied more enthusiastically than he intended to. He raised to his feet, smiling politely, and kept his eyes on Kyle. “Lead the way.” He tried to stop focusing on the ‘bite’ comment. Kyle may not use his teeth, but Eddie knew he had experience with causing harm in different ways.

Kyle’s hands shook as he tossed the dish towel aside. He patted his pockets, checking for his phone, lighter, and cigarettes, then headed for the front door. On his way, he brushed past the bartender, cigarette already between his lips, and mumbled “fifteen minutes.” He didn’t acknowledge Eddie, didn’t look at him, just kept walking. He needed some fresh air and he knew the other man would follow.

Once outside, Kyle leaned up against the brick exterior of the bar. It was just breezy enough that it took him a few tries to light his cigarette. Once he got it, he took a slow drag and steadily exhaled. The deep breathing, associated with smoking, calmed his frayed nerves; at least a little. He let his head drop back against the wall and closed his eyes. Bex didn’t mean to? Eddie had said she didn’t mean to. Was it another situation like the one they had had on campus, when Morgan had needed to intervene? What had triggered it? Now Kyle had to deal with someone else knowing he was not only a werewolf, but one with a tentative grasp on control. He tried not to think about how he had mauled Bex right here; right outside this bar, just a few dozen feet away. He tried not to think about how he would have killed her if not for the mindlink that got them in this damn situation in the first place.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes and looked at Eddie. “What do you want to know? I’m pretty sure you have questions. Shoot.” His voice did not betray his feigned calm. Maybe it wasn’t feigned tonight. Nell had given Kyle wolfsbane capsules for the full moon. He had taken a half of one a few hours before work, just to make sure nothing would go wrong. Just to make sure he’d stay calm enough to keep his job. “Did she have a panic attack?” He tried not to wince when he asked it, but his jaw tightened noticeably.

Like most alleyways in White Crest, Eddie knew the one he now stood in well. He’d been here more than once and nothing bad ever came from his visits. In fact, most of them were complete busts as far as creating content for his channel went. He possessed no personal experiences that would turn this alley into anything other than a small stretch of cracked concrete, two towering brick walls, and a dumpster. The same couldn’t be said for Bex, who shared her injurious memory with him in vivid detail. And now, here he was, near the site of the attack with the wolf who nearly killed her.

Eddie’s hand nervously rubbed his chest as if making sure Bex didn’t share her wounds with him too. He’d been doing that a lot lately. The stench of cigarette smoke infiltrated his airways and inspired a fleeting grimace to appear on his face. Kyle asked a question; he sounded farther away than he should have. Eddie took a breath and silently reprimanded himself for not staying grounded.

“Yeah, she did,” Eddie replied to Kyle’s second question; he still needed to grapple with the first. He figured out a way to buy himself some time. “We were in an alley kind of like this one and then everything went sideways. I tried to help, but… I didn’t do a great job.” He cut the story off there. Bex said she and Kyle were friends, but that didn’t mean he knew about her magical abilities. “Question number one,” he said, backtracking to his offer. “You’re a werewolf. I’m sorry about whatever struggles that come with that, but you have a responsibility to keep people safe from you. Why didn’t you take precautionary measures to make sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone?”

The confirmation that Bex had had yet another panic attack because of Kyle’s actions was hard to hear. His shoulders sank, but his expression didn’t change. No doubt, Eddie had seen Bex’s waking nightmares, just like all those students in the campus café. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how many people he’d scarred after one bad night. They say the beating of butterfly wings can create a hurricane; Kyle had surely set a dozen or more in motion. Like some twisted King Midas, he left pain in his wake. Everyone he touched was worse off. He pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry here in front of someone he’d just started talking to. It didn’t help that Eddie had made him the good kind of nervous. Kyle opened his mouth to say something, anything in response. He was at a loss for words and only managed a pained, “I’m sorry.”

If the realization that he was still Bex’s nightmare had hurt him, that first unexpected question was a punch to the gut. Kyle’s hand dropped from his face and he looked up at Eddie now. The tears he had been holding back made his lashes stick together as they slid down his face. His eyes held a primal rage that he was struggling to quench. “How dare—,” he barked, voice louder than expected. He sucked in a breath, clenching his fists. He had all but forgotten the cigarette he had been holding until the heat from it registered. He dropped the crushed cigarette with a hiss. Good, the pain was good. It grounded him for just a moment.

When he spoke next, his voice was quieter, but dripped with malice. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t know anything about me or how hard it’s been going this alone.” Kyle knew his anger wasn’t justified. He knew Eddie was right; he’d been a danger this whole time. It was a wonder he hadn’t cracked sooner. But to hear it from someone completely outside of the situation, to hear his own guilt weaponized against him—Kyle couldn’t bear it. Focus on the pain. Focus on your breathing.

The good thing about wolfsbane was that it kept Kyle drowsy and feeling inebriated at best. The bad thing, and there were many bad things to choose from, was that it didn’t prevent a shift, and he wasn’t working with a full dose. He had maybe a few minutes, at most, to slow this train of thought before it detailed him completely. That would be easier said than done as Kyle’s heart rate picked up and his breathing became increasingly shallow.

The realization that his question struck a nerve hit Eddie immediately upon seeing the look in Kyle’s eyes. The tone of his voice hammered the point in even further. Every muscle in his body tensed as he wondered whether or not he and Kyle would be reenacting the night with Bex. The only difference between now and then being that there was no one around to save Eddie. People didn’t respond to cries for help in White Crest, the residents were either desensitized to them or preferred to pretend they didn’t hear them. If Kyle attacked Eddie, he would die. That probably should’ve scared him more than it did.

“Actually, I know a lot about being alone.” His brain didn’t care what happened next, but Eddie’s body was eager to stay alive. Adrenaline coursed through him, his hands shook, and nervous sweat broke out near his hairline. No matter how badly his instincts told him to run, he kept his feet firmly planted where he stood. Stupid or brave, he didn’t really care either way. “And I know a lot about feeling like I can’t handle that feeling of being alone.” It somehow felt like a timer was counting down-to-zero in Kyle’s head. How long did he have left?

“But, you are right about one thing. I don’t know you, not well, anyway. If you don’t kill me, I think I might like to, but that’s feeling like a very big ‘if’ right now.” Eddie swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “I crossed a line I didn’t know was there and I’m sorry for that. For the sake of you not having to explain to Bex what you did to my body after the wolf is gone and you turn back into a pretty decent guy who got dealt a shitty hand, I hope I’m with you when you walk back into the bar.” Eddie watched Kyle closely, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each breath.

Kyle’s heart was about to beat right out his goddamn chest. He clutched at it, his whole body shaking now. Breathe. Eddie was talking, but he sounded far away. Like he was at the other end of a long hallway. His words reverberated through Kyle’s head. What he was saying hit a little too close to home. Particularly, the bit about feeling like he couldn’t handle being alone. Kyle knew that feeling well. If he was in a more sensible state of mind, he might’ve actually hugged the man.

If you don’t kill me. Kyle didn’t want to kill Eddie. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but Eddie was so tantalizingly accessible right now, and Kyle was falling apart. He buried his face in his palms. The streetlights were too bright. They buzzed too loud. Eddie’s voice was too loud, too. Breathe. Feeling overstimulated, Kyle turned his back to the medium. He tried to walk away, he tried to put ground between himself and Eddie. It was a losing battle before he’d begun, and he fell to his knees. His palms scraped along the concrete beneath them. Breathe. Focus on the sting. He screwed his eyes tightly shut.

It was too late. Kyle’s body was already ripping itself apart to build it back up. He grit his teeth to hold back any noises of pain as he shifted. When he opened his eyes again, they had to readjust to the streetlights. Kyle was panting now, his tongue lolling to the side. He stretched and shook out his fur. The shift had taken it out of him. Whatever energy he had left after taking wolfsbane earlier in the night, it was all but gone now. Unsteadily, Kyle got to all fours and rounded on Eddie. His dagger-sharp teeth were bared and a low growl escaped his parted lips. He wobbled as he took a step towards the man before him. Kyle was dizzy now. The wolf blinked rapidly, trying to regain himself. He swayed in place, clearly struggling to maintain balance.

A small part of Eddie had hoped that talking to Kyle would prevent this from happening. As the transformation happened before his very eyes, he realized how much of a fucking idiot he was. Eddie had the gift of gab, but he couldn’t recall ever hearing a story about someone talking an animal out of mauling them. As far as self-preservation went, he was lacking. Despite the fear gripping his heart and the incontestable urge to run, morbid curiosity made him wonder what would happen if he just… stood there. On the bright side, it would probably be a quick death.

But then Eddie thought about Kyle; the smile that didn’t reach his eyes, the glass shattering on the floor, his guilt and anger. If the wolf killed him, how much deeper into self-loathing would Kyle sink. And, fuck, what about Bex? He told her he would be more careful. At the thought of her, he instinctively took a step back. Much to his surprise, life without people who might mourn him was a lot simpler.

Eddie quickly went over his options. Running into the bar would be baiting a werewolf into a public space and he wasn’t fast enough to run past him. What else could he do? His eyes snapped to the dumpster in his peripheral vision. He’d never moved anything that big with his mind before and the chances of succeeding now seemed slim, but at least he could say he tried to survive.

He focused hard on the dumpster, slowly backing further away from the wolf. It felt like every muscle in his body was being pushed to its limit, but the dumpster began to slide against the concrete. He inhaled deeply, extended his hand, and whipped the dumpster at Kyle as hard as he could, slamming him against the alley’s wall.

The wolf stalked forward, wobbly as he may be, slowly trying to close the gap between himself and his prey. If there was any part of Kyle that remained consciously human, he didn’t show it. He watched as his prey panicked. He could smell the fear as Eddie tried to find a way out. Kyle paused when he felt close enough. He eyed Eddie’s throat, mouth flooding with saliva. His body tensed, ready to strike. He was so in the zone, that he didn’t register the sound of the dumpster beginning to scoot across the alleyway towards him. He only realized what was happening a moment too late. Kyle’s head whipped to the side and he braced himself mere seconds before the dumpster had collided with him. He slammed against the wall with a sickening crunch and let out a pained yelp. Pinned between the wall and the dumpster, Kyle’s claws scrambled across the pavement in front of him, as he tried to drag himself out to no avail. He wheezed and whimpered, trying to push back against the heft of the dumpster.

Eddie didn’t feel proud of what he did to Kyle. The yelp and obvious desperation he felt trying to free himself Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice. “Really sorry about this, Kyle,” he said, voice strained from the amount of effort it took to keep the dumpster in place. He moved closer to the pinned wolf. With each step, Eddie felt like his legs might buckle under the sheer amount of exertion needed to propel him forward.

He knew he couldn’t leave, not if Kyle sustained any significant injuries from the impact, but lasting much longer seemed impossible. Eddie’s vision began to blur as he stood in front of Kyle. “Turn back, turn back, please just fucking turn back,” he pleaded though clenched teeth.

Kyle’s panic and desperation grew the longer he was stuck. He shoved back against the dumpster as hard as he could, but he was exhausted already. He couldn’t keep up the fight and he slumped down, motionless. As soon as it had come, just like that, the storm had passed. What was left in its wake was a less than fully conscious Kyle, his clothes ribboned around him. A thin trail of blood trickled along the curve of his jaw. He’d smacked his head fairly hard, and gained a sizable, but not serious, gash. The sound of a dumpster slamming into the wall would surely be enough of a commotion to alert bar staff and patrons, who would be there soon, if they weren’t already on their way.

At the sight of Kyle’s human form, limp and possibly broken, Eddie used the last of his strength to drag the dumpster far enough away from him to allow him access behind it. He stumbled to Kyle’s side, weak and disoriented, and tucked himself underneath one of his arms. Eddie avoided looking at his recently exposed skin as best he could while he hoisted him onto his feet. He wobbled dangerously under Kyle’s weight before miraculously finding his footing again. “We can’t stay here,” Eddie grunted. Trouble was, he couldn’t exactly drag an essentially naked man through a packed bar either, especially not one who looked barely alive.

“Walk with me, please,” he quietly begged as he led Kyle through the alleyway as quickly as he could. At the mouth of the alleyway, Eddie could see his car. At the same time, he heard a door swing open behind him. “Oh, fuck me,” he mumbled as he hobbled as quickly as he could to the passenger’s side door. He quickly ushered Kyle into the seat and slammed the door. Not wanting to waste any time, he booked it to the other side and took his place in the driver’s seat, peeling onto the road as quickly as he could.

Eddie glanced over at Kyle, unsure whether or not he was at all conscious. “I don’t—is the hospital even an option for you?” He imagined it would be tough to conceal his accelerated healing.

Kyle blinked in minute long intervals. His feet shuffled along with Eddie as best as he could manage, which wasn’t great. He curled in on himself with a groan as soon as he was seated in the car. That was the first time he became vaguely aware of his surroundings. The sudden movement of the car was disorienting and Kyle had to close his eyes to keep his bearings. He pressed his cheek against the cold glass of the window. The glass felt nice against his fevered skin as he still sweat with the exertion he’d just put in. The blood that flowed down the side of his face was now smeared across the window. That was something he would want to take care of when he was a little more awake. He wouldn’t want to make a mess of Eddie’s car.

“Where—,” he mumbled, brow creased together. He couldn’t go to the hospital, that was for sure. If they called his emergency contacts, he’d be pretty well fucked. His parents and stepdad didn’t need to get involved in this. On top of that, there was a lot of explanation required at the hospital, and that was something neither he nor Eddie could provide. Kyle was having trouble forming the words to say any of this, though. He mumbled, “N-no. No hospital,” before he was out for at least another few moments.

Every inch of Eddie’s body ached, his head felt like it might split open, and his nerves were shot. The road before him went in and out of focus as he drove—if he couldn’t pull himself together, his shitshow of a night would end in a collision. Kyle was clearly struggling to answer him coherently, leaving him unsure about how he should proceed until, finally, he managed to utter what Eddie needed to hear.

“Okay,” Eddie breathed, nodding his head as he realized what he needed to do. “I’m gonna take you home with me, Kyle. I’m gonna take care of this, I promise. Please, just… please, be okay.” His eyes snapped to his passenger for a sign that he was listening, but he was out cold. Fresh tears stung Eddie’s eyes as they returned to the road. “I am so sorry,” he whispered.

#c: kyle #wickedswriting #writing #suicide tw #head trauma tw #// ):

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jewishjon · 4 years

Note

Maybe Jesper & Wylan have their parents over for dinner? Jesper and Colm reminisces abt Jespers Mom, Marya gushes about Wylan as a baby, maybe Jesper and Wylan announce their engagement (or something else cute?? Idk😅)

A modern au...

Wylan ran a hand through his red-gold curls distractedly. He picked up a fidget cube from the kitchen counter and moved the toggle back and forth, glancing at the open door periodically. He checked his reflection in the hall mirror and straightened his navy blue suit jacket.

He called up the stairs to his boyfriend - his boyfriend who was still changing minutes before Wylan’s mother and Jesper’s father would arrive.

“Jesper, they’re going to arrive in five minutes. Please come down soon.”

“I’m coming!” came the shout from upstairs. “Give me a second, I’m doing my hair.”

Wylan rolled his eyes and paced around the kitchen nervously. He didn’t notice that Jesper had entered the room until he put a calming hand on Wylan's shoulder.

Wylan spun around, his breath hitching, and relaxed when he saw it was his boyfriend. He still struggled with sudden touch. It wasn’t his father - he knew it couldn’t be his father, who had been in prison on a charge of child abuse and fraud for ten years, but fears still lay in wait in the back of his mind.

Jesper frowned when he saw Wylan’s reaction and kissed him, resting a hand on his lower back.

“It’ll be okay, Wy.”

Wylan forced a shaky smile, and Jesper echoed it. “I know, Jes. I know.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Wylan was momentarily startled by the abrupt noise, even after he had reprogrammed it to play Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off, but quickly ran to answer the door.

Wylan’s mother stood on the doorstep, carrying a bouquet of blue and purple flowers. When she saw Wylan, she grinned and embraced him so hard he found it hard to breathe.

“Hi mum.” he managed to choke out.

Marya Hendriks released him and looked him up and down, still smiling.

“Hi, Wylan.”

Wylan held open the door for his mother, just as Jesper rushed to the door, panting, and waved frantically to her, clearly out of breath.

“I’m sorry!” he shouted desperately, likely more to Wylan than his mother. “I had to check on the chicken!”

Marya laughed and hugged Jesper too, then followed Wylan and Jesper into their house. They waited in the living room for a few minutes, chatting about Marya’s new job and the art project Wylan was working on, until Jesper’s father arrived.

They sat down for dinner, and Wylan carried two precariously balanced plates into the dining room and managed to put them on the table before collapsing into his chair.

Fifteen, ten, years ago, he could have never imagined himself here. He would have never pictured getting away from his father and the cold, empty mansion. Buying his own house in a diverse neighbourhood in the middle of Amsterdam with the love of his life. Getting officially diagnosed as dyslexic, autistic, and finding there were people who understood him. People who cared about his struggles. People who didn’t brush him off or call him spoiled, selfish, bratty.

Finding out that his mother alone was alive, that she hadn’t died as his father had told him but filed for divorce was the single best thing that had happened to Wylan.

Colm Fahey laughed heartily as he cut a slice of his chicken. “You know, when Jesper came home from school one day and told me he and his friends were planning a rescue operation, I never would have guessed it would end with him moving to the city with a boy like you.”

“Dad!” exclaimed Jesper in mortification. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Colm laughed again. “It means I think Wylan is good for you. Very good indeed.”

Wylan blushed a bright pink and mumbled a thank you under his breath.

If he was honest, Wylan couldn’t believe his own past either. In fact, he’d received multiple offers to turn his life story into a movie, and he’d refused them all. He hadn’t published his book for the money or fame - he’d done it to inspire others who were facing the same thing he had, give them hope. How was he to know it would blow up and become the most popular New York Times bestseller of the year?

He had to admit, a movie about an abused boy who was rescued by a notorious gang from the local high school and proceeded to find the evidence necessary to send his father to jail with his new friends’ help would be pretty cool. The fact he found his supposedly dead mother and fell in love with the gang’s guns expert was an added bonus.

“How’s Kuwei?” asked Wylan.

Kuwei was Wylan’s step brother. He was the child of Marya’s new husband from his previous marriage. Kuwei was a year younger than Wylan and they had a lot in common. Wylan wished he could see him more often, but Kuwei lived with his husband Joost in Moscow and only visited Amsterdam once a year for family gatherings.

Marya smiled fondly. “Very well. You know, we were thinking of maybe having him and Joost over for a few weeks next Christmas.”

“That would be great, mum.”

The table fell into a comfortable silence as they finished their food. Marya and Colm exchanged embarrassing childhood stories about Wylan and Jesper, and Wylan felt something in his heart he hadn’t known before the last ten years of his life. Belonging.

When the plates had been cleared away, Wylan sat back down, his heart beating fast. He exchanged a glance with Jesper and his boyfriend gave a little nod. It was the only signal he needed.

Wylan took a deep breath and took Jesper’s hand in his. He caught his mother’s eye, his hand shaking ever so slightly.

“Me and Jesper had something to tell both of you. There was a reason we invited you here tonight.”

Jesper squeezed Wylan’s clammy palm and let out a giant grin. “We’re engaged!”

The table broke out into chaos. All of a sudden, everyone was hugging everyone and Wylan could barely hear anything over Marya and Colm’s shouts. Even Jesper seemed to overexcitable having delivered the news.

Wylan winced all the noise. Seeing his discomfort, the others quieted and looked at him expectantly.

“So,” he said, his eyes glittering, “Who wants to see the ring?”

This was written for Grishatober Day Twelve: Kerch @grishatober

Taglist: @tsaritsas @sobachka @vosjiks @kabhi-khushi-kabhi-gham @thomaslightwood @tricewithaz @irlwaluigi @theprinceoftheair @nothewraith @janemckeene @wedontknowhowtodiequietly @brekkerstan @spookyseinaka @revouries

#soc #ck #six of crows #crooked kingdom #Wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #marya hendriks #colm fahey #kuwei yul bo #joost van poel

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

Text

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter One

A/N Hey there, ladies and gents! It’s time to be swept away into an alternate universe where 1950s LA is the place to be. This is my first ever soulmate au and it took a lot of planning to make everything fit just right so I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: It’s 1958 and summer has just begun, sending the teenagers of Los Angeles into warm weather freedoms and part time jobs. Eighteen-year-old Daniel finds himself spending his days trying to find his soulmate and he refuses to give up until he has her.

Los Angeles in 1958 was a thriving city of luxury and fame; housing many of the greats and certainly more to come in upscale Beverly Hills mansions with top dollar views. They lived in their own worlds in the coastal city; unbothered by the working class with 9-5 jobs and single-family bungalows in the suburbs. To the everyday person, life in Los Angeles was more than nice with the beach on one side, the mountains on the other, and enough cultural entertainment to hardly ever be bored. People were happy you could argue and, in a sense that was true. Happy that they were able to settle down in that warm American Dream with the one they were destined to be with. Their soulmate.

This wasn’t a world full of lonesome heartbreak – unless one would choose to live that way – as everyone was assigned someone that they were meant to be with. By their eighteenth birthday, strange habits started to arise where you could taste whatever your soulmate was eating at any given time. It started faintly the day of your eighteenth birthday, as just a light sensation on your tongue, sort of like what it feels like to have a craving for a specific type of food. As weeks progressed it became more pronounced until after a month or so you could taste nearly exactly what they were eating as if you were eating it yourself.

It was something to get used to at first, but it was reality, and everyone went about their day to day lives with this invisible connection to the one they were destined to be with. Some people never found their soulmate – after all, the world had a population of almost three billion, so the odds weren’t always on your side – but eighteen-year-old Daniel refused to let that be his fate.

The second the clock hit midnight on April 2nd, 1958, Daniel shut his eyes really tightly in his bed and swirled his tongue around his mouth to try and taste something. You see, he was in love with the idea of love for as long as he could remember, and he had been counting down the days until he turned eighteen since he was old enough to know what numbers were. His parents had that perfect love story; high school sweethearts in 1935 where his father knew she was the one from the first week he turned eighteen, married and expecting their first child by 1936 and had three boys with a baby girl on the way before his father was drafted into the war in 1942. His father returned home in 1945 just as in love with his mother than ever before and the rest was history. Daniel wanted a story just like his parents; one where it all just fell into place.

The two-and-a-half months from the day Daniel turned eighteen to his high school graduation gave him absolutely no clue as to who his soulmate was. He tried scrounging the cafeteria at lunch time to see if any of the girls were eating that turkey sandwich he could taste or drinking that cold bottle of Coca-Cola, but he was met with no luck again and again. His soulmate seemed to eat something different everyday for each meal, but he soon came to realize that the only consistent thing was strawberry milkshakes. Usually around the time Daniel got off the school bus at home he’d lick his lips with the sweet flavour of strawberry and whipped cream that was rolling its way along his tongue.

He was just glad it wasn’t chocolate. He hated chocolate.

On the first real day of summer vacation, after graduation and their final high school dance, Daniel was staring out his bedroom window towards the street, impatiently waiting to see his older brother’s shiny red Thunderbird turning onto their street. Sure enough, he got a glimpse of the shiny red sports car in the distance and with an excited gasp, Daniel took off for the stairs.

“Christian’s home!” he shouted through the house, hopping the last three stairs and whipped open the front door just as the car pulled into the driveway.

He jumped off the porch as his parents came out of the house behind him and Daniel rushed to set his hands on the pretty red hood of the car that was still warm from the long drive from upstate.

The tired nineteen-year-old stepped out from the driver’s side and pulled off his sunglasses to offer a dimpled smile to his family, “Hey, you guys. What’s shaking?”

“Christian! How was college?” Daniel asked with a grin.

“Just swell, little brother. Why don’t you come help me bring my things upstairs? I have something for you.”

Daniel absolutely idolized his older brother, so he didn’t need to be asked twice to carry his things. As Christian headed for the porch to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek and his father with a handshake, Daniel opened the trunk of the car to unload the bags. Out of the four Seavey children, Christian and Daniel were closest in age; Christian was only four months old when their parents fell pregnant with Daniel; leaving the two boys at only thirteen months apart. This made them very close and they shared a bedroom up until their oldest brother Tyler moved out for college a few years before. It was safe to say that when Christian was next to leave for school, Daniel had a hard time adjusting to life in the house without him.

But he was finally back, dressed in his usual slicked back dark brown hair and finished with a leather jacket. Leather was never usually Christian’s choice and Daniel let his eyes linger on the back of his brother’s jacket as he helped him carry his things upstairs to his room.

Christian stopped in the doorway to the left at the top of the stairs, poking his head into the light pink painted room, “Hey, ankle biter, I’m back. Did ya miss me?”

Their younger sister, Anna - a moody force to be reckoned with at fifteen - glanced up from her magazine she was reading on her bed, her record player playing quietly from on top of her dresser, “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“Did you get that Elvis guy to marry you yet?”

“Oh, shut up, Chris.” Anna blushed, throwing one of her stuffed animals at him before getting up to slam the door in his face.

Christian glanced back at Daniel with a small smile before heading into the room adjacent to toss his bag on his bed. Daniel set his suitcase by his closet and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with the new getup?” Daniel finally asked.

“Oh, this old thing?” Christian grinned, pulling at the hem of his leather jacket. “A buddy in the dorms threw this little bash back in the fall and there were all these swell guys there talking about this new fashion tread. Said it was what everyone’s doing now. I think it looks pretty good, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Christian scoffed. “Well something’s coming to you of this whole business too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The guys got me a job at the car shop upstate for the year, I made a bit of dough, fixed up some wheels, and I’m even transferred to another shop down here for the summer. But with the big bucks I made since the fall I can afford a new car.”

“That’s great, Chris.” Daniel said slowly, unsure of where his brother was going with that.

“So I want you to have my T-Bird.” Christian tossed over the keys.

Daniel tried to grab them in his shock but fumbled them and they fell to the carpet. He bent down quickly to pick them up, “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope. Car’s all yours. That or I’ll resell it but I know you’ve had your eye on it since I first got it.”

“Yeah! Oh, boy! Thank you!” Daniel grinned.

“Only thing I ask is that you tell me how your birthday went.” Christian smirked, flopping back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard with his hands tucked behind his head and his shoes resting up on his bag.

Daniel bit back a small smile, sitting gently at the end of his older brother’s bed, the car keys still in hand, “It was nice. Mom made me a cake. Vanilla, of course. And I had a few friends over to watch a movie on tv and we ordered a pizza.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Christian kicked him with the toe of his shoe lightly.

Daniel’s whole family knew about how excited he was to turn eighteen, solely for the purpose of finally being able to find his soulmate. The younger brother blushed lightly through a smile.

“I haven’t found her yet. But she likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Strawberry? Well, thank God it’s not chocolate or you’d be miserable.” Christian chuckled. “Think she goes to your school?”

“I dunno. High school’s over anyway. But I want to try and find her this summer. She’s gotta be in the city, right?”

“It’s a big city, little bro.” Christian said.

“You’ll help me, right?”

“I gotta work.” Christian shrugged. “Besides, I gave up on that junk.”

“That junk? Finding your soulmate?” Daniel frowned over at him. He thought back to the late-night talks in their shared bedroom when they were nine and ten, sitting up facing each other on their adjacent twin size beds, talking about what it would be like to grow up and find their soulmates.

Christian hummed, sliding his tongue over his lips and in his mouth, an obvious unaware habit that meant his soulmate was eating something right then. Daniel wondered what he could taste.

Christian clicked his tongue and sat up with a deep inhale as if to pull himself out of his own thoughts, “Yeah, no use stressing yourself over it. Plenty of swell birds around to find, right?”

“I guess.” Daniel mumbled.

“I gotta unpack my things. Why don’t you take the car for a spin before dinner?” Christian suggested, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Daniel stood up, glancing down at the keys in his hand. “Thanks again.”

Christian only sent him a dimpled grin and Daniel left his brother’s room without another word. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, calling over his shoulder to his parents that he would be back in a little bit before heading for the driveway. Daniel hopped over the door of the convertible and settled into the red leather seats with his hands falling gently against the steering wheel. He let a small smile come to his lips as the engine roared to life and the familiar taste of strawberry milkshakes grazed his tongue.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we #christian seavey #why dont we music #wdw #why dont we fanfic #seavey #au #soulmate au #daniel seavey imagines #why dont we imagines #🍓

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marawritingstuff · 3 years

Text

SUNSHINE

Finally, I would like to thank my fellow classmates. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you.

Valedictorian speech written. Come on, Amelia, no sleeping. Time to write the memoriam. Everybody would have completely forgotten about Sunshine, aka Jennifer, if those idiots stopped talking about weird stuff.

On this day as the Class of 2008 celebrates our graduation, our Sunshine isn’t here. Jennifer Halloway sadly took her life seven months ago.

Couldn’t someone else give this speech? Heaven knows, we weren’t friends. Sunshine didn’t have any friends. I didn’t even know her! Well, maybe a little bit.

Sunshine always lit up a room with her distinctive style. She brought laughter wherever she went.

My first encounter with Sunshine occurred the first day of fifth grade. Jennifer stumbled through the homeroom door dressed in a jumper that was falling apart at the seams with a sun patch centered slightly below her large breasts. The tall, overweight girl, with a haircut that even a discount barber wouldn’t admit to, clutched her books closely to her chest. As a chorus of “You are My Sunshine” sprang from the mouths of a group of students near the back, a storm of spitballs flew through the air. Sunshine didn’t even look up amid the commotion but headed to a corner desk at the far side of the classroom. A wave of sympathy overcame me, and I began to get up to greet her, only to be met by Susie, my best friend’s hand. I looked at my friends. Some were laughing while others had wrinkled up their faces as if Sunshine had a communicable disease that could be passed through the air by her mere presence. There is not much I can say now. Then I was a ten-year-old girl who wanted to be liked so I wrote off Sunshine’s life, joining in my friends’ laughter and jeers that would last for nearly seven more years.

Her intelligence and compassion did not go unnoticed by teachers and fellow students.

Sunshine remained on the periphery of my universe. We were both smart, extremely smart. Advanced placement classes cluttered our schedules; at least for a while, but she lacked the social graces to stay amongst the “gifted.” Group projects were the new fad in education. My peers pretended to let Sunshine be part of the group during class, but everyone knew the real discussions, work, and fun happened afterschool. Nobody ever told her where the meetups were happening. When it came to the division of work, the group inevitably responded: Jennifer refused to help. Some of the teachers would try to elicit a defense from Sunshine, but she remained silent. I guess she never got over the fear instilled in her in elementary school. Supposedly, she told on some bullies for calling her “Cabbage Patch Kid” and they slammed her in the mud and kicked her bad. Of course, there were some teachers who were just as ruthless as the students. I heard Ms. Reardon, the sixth-grade science teacher, tell her that despite her intelligence, social problems meant that she would never succeed in life and Mr. Pearson, the seventh-grade English teacher, said someone as poor as her shouldn’t have hope. I wish I could say that I acted differently, that I tried to include her, but I didn’t. By the time we reached high school, the group project grades had dropped her out of my academic circle. However, the continued bullying kept Sunshine burning bright in my orbit.

Jennifer’s grace was an example to us all.

The whole cheerleading squad threw me a welcome party the day before my freshman year began. They even brought me the cutest outfit and a junior offered me a ride. At 7: 15 a.m., she pulled into the driveway in her clunker. Fifteen minutes later we screeched into the parking lot, just as the buses were pulling in. The unmistakable sound filled my ears. “You Are My Sunshine.” Mud balls flew knocking Jennifer from the stairs of the bus onto the concrete. She pulled herself up dredging her splattered sunshine jumpsuit with her. As she stepped through the entrance doors, Sunshine disappeared from my mind again.

Though she wasn’t one of the more outgoing students, she was beloved by everyone.

That first year our paths didn’t cross much as our classes were clearly different now and extra-curricular activities weren’t her thing. At times, I would hear calls of “fatso”, “creepy”, and “not so little Orphan Annie” coming from the halls, and witness Sunshine being thrown into lockers. At lunch she sat alone, while some kids threw food at her and most...okay, all…of us just sneered. Gossip went around that her grandmother, her sole living relative, got cancer and the water in her house was turned off. Her hygiene suffered, ostracizing her even more. One morning I really had to pee, so reluctantly ran to the gross bathroom on the first floor. That giant jumpsuit was in a sink with Sunshine scrubbing it with a bar of soap. Laughter exploded from me. She just stood there scrubbing…I am sorry I did that now.

I, for one, enjoyed Jennifer’s contributions in the classroom.

A language class was required for all students and, unfortunately, I lacked any skills in this area, so this meant mixing with all the other sophomores. As I walked into class, I noticed the name cards carefully placed on the desks. Señora Amelia Brantley. Cute. Assigned Seating. I scanned the desks. Señora Jennifer Halloway right next to Señor Harry Hankel, the quarterback, who later became captain of the football team, a notorious bully. Everyone thought Harry would make it to the NFL someday bringing fame, and money, to our school. Thus, his pranks were largely ignored, especially by the popular teachers, like Ms. Garcia. Throughout the semester, every time Ms. Garcia turned her back, he would take hold of Sunshine’s desk and throw it into the wall leaving her reeling. Ms. Garcia refused to discipline Harry, instead admonishing Sunshine for moving her seat. The worst day came on Cinco De Mayo. There was a buffet of Mexican delights contributed by the students and Ms. Garcia. A decorated piñata hung from the ceiling. At the end of class, Ms. Garcia had us start a Conga line. When Sunshine tried to join in, no one would touch her back. They called her a dirty pig and made oinking sounds. Rather than discipline the class, Ms. Garcia simply broke up the line and we went back to the Cinco De Mayo feast. Sunshine went to the back corner of the room, sat down on the floor, and for the first time ever, I saw her cry. That was the beginning of the end, even though I neither knew nor took any steps to stop it.

She was the picture-perfect student.

To be honest, SAT’s, college applications, and maintaining my 4.0 kept me too busy after that to think much about Sunshine. I jumped on the chance to assist with developing the year-book pictures, not only since it would add another line to my Ivy League applications, but also because I loved watching the blobs slowly transform into images of happy people. Cheerleaders forming pyramids. Football players making touchdowns. Even Susie’s mug, now a beautiful young lady, smiling at the Junior Fall Dance. After school one day, I stirred the solution as the last picture appeared. My arm grew limp as the picture came in focus. Sunshine was sitting in the corner of the gym at a pep-rally, all alone, grasping her knees. She looked so miserable, like a puppy that had been hit too many times. Gently, I moved the image towards the trash when the Senior Editor came in and stopped me, laughing and pronouncing that this would be a highlight. I didn’t say anything. The centerfold of the yearbook was Sunshine’s picture with the caption, “You are the light of our school.”

As we are here to celebrate our own accomplishments, I know the Senior Class wishes they could throw Jennifer a ceremony that could honor her alone.

Unlike my freshman year, I walked through the school doors on the first day of my senior year with confidence and pride; head of the cheerleading squad, member of the student council, editor of the yearbook and a shoo-in for valedictorian. Frankly, this was just a distraction from the wait on the responses of the Ivy League schools. December was the traditional month that early applicants received an acceptance…or rejection. August. September, November, were all a blur.

December 12th, I arrived home and opened my inbox:

NEW MAIL

HARVARD: APPLICATION STATUS

SUSIE: SPECIAL CEREMONY FOR SUNSHINE, DAWN

Clicking the attachment of the first message, my hands shook uncomfortably. The Harvard Crest sat cleanly at the top of the letterhead. My eyes scanned the document.

“Congratulations. You have been accepted into the incoming Class of the Fall Semester of 2008.”

The next few hours were a haze. Screams and tears. My mother hugging me. Calling Susie. It all seems like a huge mess of emotions now. Later that night, Susie called to remind me that she was picking me up at 6:00 a.m. for the ceremony. The excitement of the day had overwhelmed me. I assumed it was another award for one of the teachers. The second e-mail remained on my computer unopened as I dreamed of Harvard crimson sweatshirts.

The alarm rang all too soon, I threw on a hoodie and my Northface winter jacket and lumbered down to Susie’s car. The window made a perfectly good pillow and blocked out most of her jabbering. Later, I learned that Susie was explaining that Sunshine’s grandmother had been missing for a few days. One of the idiots from the football team called Sunshine impersonating the police luring her to the flagpole in front of the school, our destination, with a promise of information regarding her grandmother. If I had only listened to Susie. Or opened the e-mail. Or done…anything.

Susie screeched to a stop a few blocks from the school where several other cars loaded with seniors had assembled. I struggled from the car, joining a group of twenty-five in a steady creep. As we came over the hill, I could see Sunshine standing beside the flagpole in her old, scantly patched coat, shivering in the cold. She kicked the snow around her, weakly mouthing, “where are you Grandma.” The group pounced on her. Harry Hankel seized her by the arms forcing her to face the flagpole. From under the snow, two other blindsiders began to pull ropes causing a pair of bloomers and a bra to ascend. The sunshine patches left no doubt of the owner, though I had no idea where the mob had obtained her private items. The group broke out into a chorus of “You are My Sunshine” as they blasted her with ice balls, several striking her square in her mouth causing teeth to be knocked fully out. Seconds seemed liked hours until someone opened the front doors of the school. Everyone scattered. I stood there for a second watching Sunshine lie there on the ground. Blood dripped from her mouth staining the snow. Susie pulled me by the arm, and I turned away. This would be my last view of Sunshine.

I wish I had a chance to know her more personally.

The incident occurred one week before the holiday break. Sunshine didn’t make an appearance in school that week. Holiday cheer soon made me forget the horrible event as my family overwhelmed me with gifts of Harvard paraphernalia: sweatshirts, mugs, anything you could imagine. When I finally stepped back on the grounds of the school, I shivered. My eyes turned up to the flagpole resting on a shadowy image of one of Sunshine’s patches waving. Susie dismissed it as an illusion due to stress. Only a few hours into class, the principal called us all for an assembly in the auditorium. Despite my heavy sweater, I hugged myself tightly trying to keep warm. Mr. Lumbre, our principal, stepped on the stage, but I could barely see him despite all the theater lights. A shadow seemed to be engulfing him.

“Jennifer Halloway took her own life on New Year’s Day. She is survived by her grandmother. Funeral arrangements will be announced. Grief counselors will be made available in the main office. School is dismissed for the day to allow time for mourning and processing.”

The senior class sat still. I don’t know what they were feeling, all I know is no one said a word.

We really didn’t have the opportunity to say a proper good-bye. However, even after she was gone, Jennifer still seemed to be with us somehow.

No sunshine came through the clouds the day they put her in the ground. Only her grandmother and the church pastor watched as the casket descended into the earth. I sat in Susie’s car staring. I read in the newspaper that Sunshine had shot herself with her grandfather’s old gun. Her grandmother, finally recovering from a bout of dementia, returned to find her in the garage a few days later. Some of the other seniors said they were going to come to the funeral. Susie backed out but let me take the car. Only the hearse and the pastor’s beat up Chevy kept me company in the cemetery parking lot. I couldn’t bring myself to get out and drove away in perceived silence, though I thought I heard the faint sound of Nat King Cole’s “When Shadow’s Fall.”

The grief counselors only stayed a few days as no one sought their services. Sunshine never left. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, every morning the sunshine shadow enveloped me as I crossed under the flagpole. As the temperatures rose outside the school, they fell within. The furnace was replaced, but the temperature didn’t rise a degree. They tore apart the ductwork, vents, and changed all the thermostats. Nothing worked. Soon things…well…they started getting scary. Senior girls were randomly being thrown into lockers. Books flew from students’ arms. The darkness and “When Shadow’s Fall” were everywhere. Most of the students, and staff, for that matter, were unfamiliar with the song. My grandmother adored Nat King Cole. Though I used to love hearing that smooth baritone, I shivered as it creeped from every Ipod, car stereo, and even the PA system. No other music has been heard in the school since Sunshine’s death.

I walked into a biology class one day on a mission to deliver notices of the upcoming teacher and student council cooperative meeting. There sat Harry Hankel snoring away as a film on protozoa projected over him. I stared at him and sighed, sick of the whole damn school. To my shock, an invisible force picked up his desk and relentlessly banged him back and forth into the wall. I saw nothing touch him but some in the class maintain that a sunshine shaped shadow passed over the film screen before the accident. Harry’s dreams, and the school’s dreams, were over. The doctors were unable to repair the damage in his right leg. He will never play football again.

We wish she could have partaken in the many happy activities of Senior year that are captured forever in our memories.

The final grade announcements confirmed my valedictorian status. I wanted to drop it all and drive off to Massachusetts, never to look back. However, the yearbook distribution had to be done. On the penultimate day of school for the seniors, I walked into the student council office and watched my junior editor sliding receipts into each book. She abruptly stopped, something seeming to catch her eye. Flipping open the book, she let out a shriek and bolted from the office. Drifting over to her workplace, the pages of the yearbook flipped back in the constant cool breeze that pervaded the office. I covered my mouth in horror, looking down at the faces, or lack of faces, of the senior class. Susie should have been smiling back at me. Instead, there was a black spot in the shape of a sunshine. Book after book, page after page, the same. Black blotches smeared out any faces of seniors. Slumping down in a chair, I began to cry. I wasn’t sure then, or even now, who or what I was crying about. Was it for our lost happy year? Was it for the loss of my hard work? Or was it finally for Sunshine?

We are all sorry for the tragedy that befell Jennifer. I can only hope that Sunshine can find the peace she was seeking. Goodbye Jennifer.

There will be no yearbooks to sign this year. Mr. Lumbre cancelled the prom. No one objected. Soon there will be parents wishing many of us well as we head off to our respective colleges and universities. The question is will Sunshine be with us? Will she stay at the school? I don’t know the answer to that. I do know that she is here now as I type these words, shivering, in the dark, a sunshine shaped shadow looming over me.

I…am…. sorry….

#writers on tumblr #my writing #fiction #short story

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nashibirne · 3 years

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Save Haven - 2

Safe Haven

A Maze Runner Fan Fiction

Pairing: Thomas / female OFC

Setting: After the end of 'TMR - Death Cure'

Summary: Thomas is dealing with the aftermath of the events since the glade and learns that falling in love can be painful

Warnings: (in this or in upcoming chapters) smut/sex/porn, swearing, mentioning of death, traumatic experiences, violence, sexual frustration, promiscuity, homosexuality, daddy-kink, oral, nsfw, 18+ readers only

Credits: TMR-Characters don't belong to me / are based on the books by James Dashner and the movies. All pictures I used for the moodboards/headers are from pinterest. If I violate any copyright please let me know and I'm going to remove the pictures.

Beta by the lovely @hell1129-blog Danke, Schatz!

Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Please don't use my work or parts of it without my permission.

Previous parts: 1

TWO MONTHS BEFORE

Thomas rolled off the pretty blond all sweaty and panting heavily, feeling terribly empty inside. She was the fourth girl in three weeks and though the sex was okay he knew he wouldn't want to see her again. It seemed that those meaningless fucks couldn't really satisfy him anymore. Physically maybe, but not emotionally. The more girls he laid the more he got filled with a big black void expanding deep inside of him.

It hadn't been a long way from losing his virginity to Anne a few weeks after his arrival in Camp Safe Haven to becoming the womanizer he was now, only six months later.

His time with Anne had been quite nice. He hadn't been in love with her but she was sweet and experienced and she had wanted him badly. So he grabbed the opportunity to finally have sex at the age of 19, almost 20. After discovering that the boy, celebrated as a hero by everyone, was nothing but an ordinary teenager, average to a boring extent and often in a bad, brooding mood, Anne had ditched him after only three weeks.

But he hadn't been lonely ever since. Many of the girls in the camp almost threw themselves at him, he simply had to pick one for his next amorous adventure and he soon found out that casual sex was a great way for him to vent and to let go of all the bad memories and to handle the trauma he was suffering from. He knew his success with women wasn't based on his good looks or his captivating personality. Sure, he was a nice, handsome guy but so were many of the young men around. What the female part of Safe Haven's residents liked about him was his popularity and his status as a hero with the death cure running through his veins. He and his friends had won the big battle against WCKD. Brenda, Jorge, Frypan, Minho, Gally and him. Living legends. They had lost Newt and Teresa on the last part of their road to glory, which made them real legends - dead and gone- buried somewhere under the ruins of the last city. The loss still hurt so much it sometimes made him sick - literally.

And there was something else that attracted the girls. Besides his fame he had achieved a certain questionable reputation as a notorious player over the last months. If he was honest with himself...he was a man whore...easy to get and easy to get rid off again. But he didn't care. Not about his reputation, not about much in general.

He turned around to face the girl lying beside him, managing to smile at her. "That was great." He got up and started to put his clothes on.

"What are you doing, you don't have to go just yet." Blondie eyed him with a frown. "We can go for another round." She added slyly.

"No, sorry. I gotta go. Gotta get up early tomorrow." Thomas gave her an apologetic smile.

"It's only 8 o' clock"

"Yeah, well, what can I say. I need my beauty sleep." With a little shrug he turned around to leave her wooden hut. "Bye, Alicia." And with one last look over his shoulder and a forced smile on his lips he stepped out into the cool air. The night was wonderful, the sky full of stars, the temperatures mild and the wind coming from the ocean only a light breeze. He took a deep breath and started walking home to the little shack he shared with his best friend Minho.

Passing the big round hut in the centre of the camp he heard cheering and clapping hands, various voices all talking at once. He decided to find out what was happening and entered the camp's headquarter curiously.

"Thomas, come in. We have great news." Vince waved, beaming with joy, indicating at him to join him besides the RT unit. Thomas made his way through the group of people, greeting some of his friends. There was Jorge, one of the few older adults around. A tough, street-smart man and something like a foster father to Brenda. The pretty petite brunette was standing in the middle of the room, kissing Frypan, her boyfriend, who was a good friend of Thomas. The strong black guy with the babyface hugged Brenda tightly, obviously crazy in love with her. Gally rolled his eyes, nodding in their direction, running a hand through his short blond hair, a grin on his still boyish face that always exuded a mix of anger and grimness, even if he was in a good mood. He used to be Thomas' enemy but now he belonged to his circle of close friends without the shadow of a doubt.

"What's going on?" Thomas asked when he reached Vince. The tall man in his forties with the long blond hair was something between a father and a big brother to him.

"It's the twins. We've just received a radio message from the Horizon. They're coming back tomorrow morning with a big haul. Ended their 2-week quarantine today, the crew is fine, zero infections. They made it, they really made it." Vince hugged him happily. "This is going to be such an improvement, Tommy."

"Yeah, I guess so." Thomas replied, hoping Vince was right.

Well then...I'm finally going to meet the famous twins, he thought. Joe and Kasey Miller. Everyone in Safe Haven knew their story. They had lost their family to the flare and ten years ago, when they were about fifteen years old, they had decided to leave the mainland and to go to sea. They had been living on a houseboat with their parents and thus they knew how to sail a ship. They had managed to repair an old tub. They survived off shore for years, cruising the ocean, docking in several ports, collecting anything useful to survive for the long run and recruiting a little motley crew. That's how they'd met Vince.

In the end they had three ships: the Freedom, the Unity and the Horizon. The little fleet discovered the island that now was Safe Haven and the rest was history.

They'd already left when Thomas and the others had been brought to the camp. There were two ships on this mission.

One under the command of the twins, looking for medical equipment and everything that had to do with books and education. The plan was to build a little hospital and a school for the kids as well as a library.

The construction team, led by Gally, had been working on the buildings almost 24/7 in two shifts over the last months. The hospital and the school had been finished two weeks ago, the library was almost done too. Thomas was part of this team, doing some minor work, like chopping down trees or carrying stones and other materials around. The job was alright, he liked working with his hands and the physically hard work exhausted him so much he couldn't wreck his brain over everything that had happened to him since he had been sent to the glade.

The second ship was under the command of a guy called Parker Higgins, who was a close friend of Vince and the twins. His team was sent out to find technical equipment, all kinds of machines and devices that could be of use to improve the camp's technical standards. Everybody was waiting for their return eagerly. "What about the second ship?" Thomas wanted to know. "No sign of the Freedom and her crew." Vince shook his head with a sad sigh. "But I'm sure they'll be back soon." "Of course." Thomas gave him a reassuring smile.

"I've already told the others. The twins are going to be here tomorrow around nine." Vince said, changing the subject. "I want you and the others at the beach to welcome them, okay? Please, tell Minho and be there in time."

"Sure." Thomas nodded, unsure how to feel about their return.

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

I hope you liked part 2 - I would love to hear your opion!

#thomas maze runner #maze runner thomas #maze runner fanfiction #tmr thomas #tmr fanfic #tmr fandom #fanfiction #dylan o'brien #thomas ofc #thomas oc #thomas x mc #tmr thomas x oc #tomuary

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bobbystompy · 3 years

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91 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2020

Below are my favorite quotes from 2020. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “You don’t have to be new to make new.” - Rick Rubin

2) “He put the beat on and go to sleep then wake up with a verse.” - The Lox

3) “Every opinion is bad.” - Blink-155

(via Twitter)

5) “At the start of every disaster movie, there’s a scientist being ignored.”

6) “Be brave enough to suck at something new.”

7) “Comedy is the only job you can have where you can use everything you know” - Robin Williams via Dave Chappelle

8) “What’s the worst swear word where you live?” - Josiah Hughes

9) “Cookies are a really great way to get everybody to like you for a short period of time” - YSAC

10) “The worst dancer at a wedding is the one who’s not dancing.” - John Mulaney

11) “I never saw the end of the tunnel. I only saw myself running out of one." - Kobe Bryant

12) "A good movie begins as you're walking out of the theater" - Ethan Hawke

13) “When I was young and starting in cinema, there was a saying that I carved deep into my heart which is, 'The most personal is the most creative.’ That quote was from our great Martin Scorsese.” - Bong Joon-ho

14) “Run to the rescue with love, and peace will follow” - River Phoenix via Joaquin Phoenix

15) “Thank you -- I will drink until next morning.” - Bong Joon-ho

16) “Men will bury their emotions for decades and then take it all out on children tubing while they drive the boat.” - @krauter_

17) “They help you with the dumb face stuff, but they don’t tell you how to fix it” - Adam (Nate’s friend), on having older sisters

18) “We all had our connections, but it’s not the details themselves that matter, it’s the feeling behind them. There are a million coming-of-age tales. Lady Bird’s secret sauce is how deeply its creator gave a shit. The older I get, the less I care about anything but the sense of a filmmaker’s personal connection to the material. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, what genre it is, or whether it’s genre at all. I only really care that it feels like something the filmmaker had to tell me, and that it was that filmmaker in particular who had to tell it. It has to answer the ‘why are you telling me this’ question, and not just why are you telling me, but why are you telling me.

Lady Bird is a movie that feels like only Greta Gerwig could’ve made. And it’s only because it’s so specific to her that it can be so meaningful to so many people.” - Vince Mancini

19) "I have cast some lonely votes, fought some lonely fights, mounted some lonely campaigns. But I do not feel lonely now.” - Bernie Sanders

20) “Ever hear a Beatles song you haven’t heard before?”

21) “Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn. I guess I've lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.” - Charles Bukowski

22) “You shouldn’t have to hear a band to know if they’re good or not” - Josiah Hughes

23) “I was raised by OGs. Some of you were raised by IG. I understand.” - Ice-T

* * *

[Here is where I note the line of demarcation that was the COVID-19 pandemic hitting the US, pushed forward by Tom Hanks’ announcement, the NBA and NCAA shutting down, and, then, the nation itself.]

* * *

24) “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.” - Vladimir Lenin

25) "Taken together, this is a massive failure in leadership that stems from a massive defect in character. Trump is such a habitual liar that he is incapable of being honest, even when being honest would serve his interests. He is so impulsive, shortsighted, and undisciplined that he is unable to plan or even think beyond the moment. He is such a divisive and polarizing figure that he long ago lost the ability to unite the nation under any circumstances and for any cause. And he is so narcissistic and unreflective that he is completely incapable of learning from his mistakes. The president’s disordered personality makes him as ill-equipped to deal with a crisis as any president has ever been. With few exceptions, what Trump has said is not just useless; it is downright injurious." - Peter Wehner

26) "Epidemics have a way of revealing underlying truths about the societies they impact." - Anne Applebaum

27) “A funny thing about quarantining is hearing your partner in full work mode for the first time. Like, I’m married to a ‘let’s circle back’ guy — who knew?” - Laura Norkin

28)

(Jojo Rabbit)

29) “The world ends when you're dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. - Deadwood: The Movie

30) “All bleeding stops eventually.” - Deadwood: The Movie

31) “Our Father, which art in heaven… / Let him fucking stay there” - Deadwood: The Movie

32) “It’s like a power outage, but we still have power” - Ryen Russillo, on the pandemic

33) “Whenever Sox baseball returns, it’ll be weird to not have Farmer on the call any more. The relationship between a fan and longtime announcer is always built in the little moments. One afternoon, he’s the soundtrack as you clean the garage. On another night, he’s your bookmark for the game as you stand in line for churros or walk down the ramps at Sox Park to try for better seats in the 100 level. A voice like Farmer’s becomes so familiar that you only really notice when it’s no longer there.” - Kevin Kaduk, on the passing of Ed Farmer

34)

(via Twitter)

35) “In my songs, I try to look through someone else’s eyes, and I want to give the audience a feeling more than a message” - John Prine

36) “Observe everything. Admire nothing.” - Generation Kill

37) “Trump, by that definition, has always been a wartime president -- always willing to sacrifice people he doesn’t know to things he only sort of cares about” - David Roth

38) "Whenever they speak Michael Jordan, they should speak Scottie Pippen." - Michael Jordan

39) "Fiction is a bridge to the truth that journalism can't reach." - Hunter S. Thompson

40) “Airlines sending me “we’re in this together” emails. When my suitcase was 52 pounds I was on my own.” - Mike Dentale

41) “Sometimes you can be the worst source of your own story” - Ryen Russillo

42) “Family is not necessarily blood, but instead who you would bleed for.”

43)

(via Twitter)

44) "This is the deal that Jordan made, knowingly or unknowingly — that he would trade everything he had for everything he wanted. And then, when he won all those things, he found that he had nothing but that.” - David Roth

45) “I’m brand loyal, but the brand doesn’t matter” - Caitie Miller, on why she doesn’t like generic peanut butter

46) “NOBODY shitposts Gene Hackman!!” - Mark Dehlinger

47) “When a man concludes that any stick is good enough to beat his foe with—that is when he picks up a boomerang.” - G.K. Chesterton

48) “You can be appalled forever, but shocked only once.” - Jeff Weiss, on early Eminem

49) “Whether I’m pessimistic or optimistic, the fight’s the same” - David Simon

50) “Freedom can never be completely won, but it can be lost.” - Bernard Simon

51) “Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible — even if you’re choking on it — until you let the sun in. Then you see it’s everywhere. As long as we keep shining that light, we have a chance of cleaning it wherever it lands.” -Kareem Abdul Jabbar

52) “In a racist society, it is not enough to be non-racist -- we must be anti-racist.” - Angela Davis

53) “Start as close to the end as possible” - Kurt Vonnegut, on creative writing

54) “You can’t stay woke all the time — that’s insomnia.” - Dr. Cornel West

55) “No, I get it. I’ve dated a lot of Geminis.”

56) “The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” - John Krakauer, Into The Wild (via Tyler Keller)

57) "I couldn't show them my For You because it's pretty much just lesbian stuff and depression memes" - Maggie Loesch, on showing TikTok to her coworkers

58) "It's 1 a.m. in Slovakia and I've already had one bottle of wine and I don't know how long this press conference will go, so good luck to me." - Marian Hossa, following his NHL Hall of Fame announcement

59) “All I want in life is to go on an Anguilla group trip” - Mandy Gilkes

60) “You miss old friends when you don’t see them, but you miss them more when you do.” - Chuck Klosterman

61) “The only way to appreciate the present is to pretend it’s already the past.” - Chuck Klosterman

62) Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth Until they've faded, but trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back At photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now How much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked

(”Everybody's Free [To Wear Sunscreen]”)

Second time that essay’s been quoted on this list.

64) "I mean, it's just human nature to suck up to the people above you, crap on those beneath you, and undercut your equals” - Brian, Family Guy

65) “You never quit a job. You quit a manager.” - Brian Bedford

66) “All the pictures in my house are of people I’m not friends with” - Tracy Cunningham

67) “In order to leave something behind, you have to leave.” - Dr. Herman, Grey’s Anatomy

68)

(via Twitter)

69) “You can obsess about death if you don’t have to obsess about dying.” - Brendan Kelly via “White Noise”

70) “If it’s right to do, it’s wrong to wait.” - Andy, doorman

71)

72) “When I'm sometimes asked when will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court] and I say, 'When there are nine,' people are shocked. But there'd been nine men, and nobody's ever raised a question about that.” - Ruth Bader Ginsburg

73) "America is mostly people who’ve never left their state saying we have the best country in the world." - Billy Wayne Davis

74) “A writer is someone who knows at least 80% of their writing sucks.” - Gabe Hudson

75)

(via Twitter)

76) “You’re dead twice” - Brendan Kelly

77) “Perfect is the enemy of good” - Voltaire (via Zach Lowe)

78) “I don’t want to be a savior, I want to be a mirror.” - Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

79) “I get bad Twitter FOMO but not real life FOMO. That just goes to show I need to get off the Internet.” - Josh Thomas

80) “Is there anything you love in life that you engage with seriously that you don't also engage with humor?" - Sam Sutherland, on his relationship with Blink-182

81) “My favorite genre of music is my friends' bands" - Josiah Hughes

82) “Let’s fall in love like both our parents aren’t divorced.”

83) “Seabiscuit may be the only earthling that was on both sides of the stamp.” - Brendan Kelly

84) “There’s no shame in coming in second, except in, like, wars.” - Family Guy

85) “I feel like I experience writer’s block 100% of the time, and when I do write, I have impostor syndrome.” - Phoebe Bridgers

86) “We teach based on what we most need to learn.” - psychologist on Grey’s Anatomy

87) “Having too many choices is the leading cause of stress” - Grey’s Anatomy

88) “I think we've all gravely underestimated the extent to which this year has changed all of us, permanently” - Kelli Maria Korducki

89)

(via Twitter)

90) “I wonder if people understand why they don’t have polio” - Sandra E. Garcia

91) “Ending songs is terrible, so let’s keep singing” - Dave Hernandez

#covid19 #2020 #star wars #dave chappelle #volatire #ysac #kobe #kobe bryant #ladybird #bukowski #jojo rabbit #aoc #john prine #deadwood #bernie #rbg #notorious rbg #phoebe bridgers

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nat-roman0ff · 4 years

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honk honk

the sequel to ’beep beep’ that no one asked for

after a chance encounter and forgetting to get your phone number, shawn sets off on a quest to find you.

words: 2,220

warnings: extreme dumbassery, fender benders, and Instagram.

“Brian, please stop laughing, this is serious.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and smacks the gum in his mouth as his best friend of fourteen years laughs hysterically on the other side of the phone.

“Bro,” Brian hiccups between breaths, “this total stranger helped you find your car which you are an idiot for losing, by the way, and you’re like suddenly convinced she’s the one? You’ve completely lost it.”

“I’m not though!” Shawn defends, “She’s just...different.”

Brian sighs, “yeah aren’t they all.”

“Not like that!”

Brian clicks his tongue, “well what’s her name? Can you find her on Instagram or something?”

“I don’t know her first name.”

There’s a pregnant pause, “you really are a fucking idiot.”

“I know she drives a shitty Camry! And she’s a personal shopper.”

Shawn can hear Brian smack his forehead through the phone, “well then start back at the beginning.”

Shawn gulps and Brian answers.

“The mall, moron. Go back tomorrow around the same time and see if you can find her.”

Shawn lets out the breath he’s been holding onto since he watched you pull away, “Brian, you’re a genius!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

Your day started pretty normally; gym, coffee shop, pick up dry cleaning. You hadn’t been able to get Shawn out of your head for days now, and you hoped he made it back home to Toronto for family time.

You thought about sending him an Instagram DM, but figured he probably got thousands a day and your measly little “remember me?” would go unnoticed in the sea of messages. He was also Shawn fucking Mendes, who had women richer and much more interesting at his disposal, what’d he want with you?

It was hard not to think about it, with his stupid face popping up everywhere and his stupid songs coming onto the radio. But you did your best to rid Shawn from your headspace.

So, it had been a normal day until your best friend called you, completely frantic.

“CHECK HIS INSTAGRAM OH MY GOD!” She yells before you can even answer with a hello.

“Huh?” You say, fumbling with the keys in your hand, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“Shawn!” She yells, blasting your ear drum, “he posted about you on Instagram!”

Your heart stops beating for a split second when you drop your keys and all the bags to the ground to pull up his page. His latest post was put up an hour ago, and is a simple selfie with the following caption:

Hey, I hope you follow me otherwise this would be really embarrassing. I feel like an idiot for not getting your phone number when we met and I really want to see you again. I waited for you where we met the last few days for hours on end but I never saw you. I hope you’re still around. If you do see this, pack an overnight bag and your passport and go to where we first met at 4:30 pm today. I did promise you a date, after all. - Shawn

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking God.”

“It’s crazy!” Your friend says, “the power of the internet, huh? So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! Why do I need an overnight bag?”

“Bitch,” you friend starts, “if you do not go and meet him I will completely disown you.”

“Well when you put it that way -“

“Shut up,” she laughs, “you haven’t been able to stop talking about this guy and now he’s trying to find you? Modern romance at its finest. Love!”

You roll your eyes, “fine! I’ll go meet him. Let me go so I can pack a bag.”

“Alright, love you, tell me everything when you get back.”

Shawn checks his phone six times before shoving it into his pocket. He’d sent Jake to go pick you up at the parking garage while he finished up the last second arrangements. He’d chewed his nail beds to shit with nerves and prayed you’d seen his message and actually wanted to show up.

You’d managed to shove two extra outfits and a couple of essentials into a bag, secured your passport and made it to the garage with fifteen minutes to spare. You stood at the elevator waiting, adjusting the straps of your bag over and over, not that it was ever going to feel comfortable with the nerves you were feeling. This was the craziest thing you’d ever done. Where were you going? Where was he taking you?

Home. Shawn thinks.

One of the best pieces of advice he’d gotten when the fame started becoming just a little too much to bare was not to find home in a place but in people. Home wasn’t a smelly tour bus, or hotel rooms and it certainly wasn’t Los Angeles.

He saw a little bit of home in you. Even if it was just a neighboring window, for now.

It’s about five minutes past 4:30 when a black SUV pulls up beside you. The passenger window rolls down and a burly bald man looks over from the drivers seat.

“Hey are you here for Shawn?”

You gulp and nod, “you know him?”

He smiles a trusting smile and laughs, “unfortunately. I’m Jake, come on in the kid’s got a surprise for you.”

You crawl into the front seat, unsure to trust the man but hey, what’s the worst that could happen?

A lot of things now that you were thinking about it.

Jake isn’t a man of many words. He asks your name and you make small talk about your lives. You find out he’s a Taurus and his favorite book is Of Mice and Men. You tell him about your studies at university and your grandma’s famous shortbread recipe (which he makes you promise you’ll make for him), and he makes the short drive to the airport relatively painless.

He takes you to a different section of LAX, one that you’ve never been to before. There’s a small fleet of private jets scattered across the tarmac and a small, relatively empty terminal. Jake shows you inside, where the only person waiting for you is Shawn, tapping away mindlessly on his phone, his left knee bouncing up and down.

“I found someone for you,” Jake starts and Shawn’s head immediately perks up.

His hand clutches his chest and he walks up to you with bright, yet tired, honey eyes, “you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this - ”

You press your index finger to his lips to shush him, replacing them with your lips when he stops talking.

At least that’s how Shawn pictured it happening.

In reality, it’s quarter past five and you hadn’t shown up yet, Brian was feigning sleep in the passenger’s seat of the Range Rover, and Shawn had about two ounces of patience left in him.

“She probably didn’t feel anything at all. Was probably happy to get rid of me when we found the car, this is stupid,” Shawn grumbles as he sits on the hood of the SUV.

Brian mimics playing the violin, “no shit, Sherlock. Not everyone is entranced by your,” he waves his hands in the air, “aura and, like, wicked cool hair.”

Shawn rolls his eyes, “it just felt normal. I haven’t felt that in forever.”

“My heart is breaking for you,” his best friend deadpans.

He shoots Brian a glare through the windshield.

Discouraged, Shawn jumps down off the hood and gets back into the car. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been waiting upstairs for nearly an hour now, on the level where you actually met. The boy’s attention to detail was not all quite there.

You debated giving up, he probably backed out, realized you were some nobody and he was like the universe’s biggest pop star at the moment. You felt stupid and played for getting your hopes up. You hate your friend for talking you into this and you hate Shawn for making it so damn public. The Instagram post has racked up over a million likes by now and countless comments and the whole thing makes you kind of queasy. This is so, so stupid and you can’t believe you’re caught up in it all.

Aggravated, pissed off and a teensy weensy bit hurt, you look at the packed overnight bag beside you, turn the car on and pull out of your parking spot.

The garage is busy this time of day, and you silently murder Shawn ten times over in your head for making you meet him at this time, and then not even having the audacity to show up. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens as you’re bumper to bumper with the car in front and behind you, car screaming as it idles.

“Why the fuck is everyone leaving at the same time!” Shawn shouts from behind the wheel one floor above you.

Brian rolls his eyes at his friend for the umpteenth time today, “because normal people work nine to five and it’s...five twenty right now.”

Shawn throws his head back against the headrest and groans, “I hate everything.”

“Oh come on, life isn’t that bad. So you got stood up by a girl who you’ve spent a total of three hours with. You don’t even know her name! No loss. Move on, man.”

Shawn doesn’t want Brian to be right, he wants him to be so wrong. He wants to believe that you’ve just hit a spot of traffic, or that you don’t have Instagram or anything. You can’t fake what happened between you two, even if he didn’t quite know what that is yet. It was the first time he’s laughed, first time he’s fucking forgotten who he was for half a second. And in the best way. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder waiting for a pap or a fan to spot him a click a picture, he was just Shawn and you were just...well, you.

He sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

He’s not.

Your brakes creak as you ride around the corner, a line of cars trying to slide out in front of you from the upper floor. As always the respectful driver, you let one person in, but three slip in front and you’re left stomping on your breaks and screaming obscenities.

“Dude you have to stop being such a pussy, just pull out in front of them!” Brian instructs as Shawn taps the brakes.

He scoffs, “absolutely not, I’m not getting my car all dented up just because you decided not to go to the bathroom before we left.”

Brian pouts and folds his arms across his chest, “I didn’t have to go before,” he grumbles to himself.

Just as you hit the gas to lurch forward before someone else can sneak in front of your car, you feel a bump against the back end of your vehicle.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me!” You scream to yourself.

By now cars are honking since you aren’t moving, you manage to pull off to the side and the guilty vehicle that hit you pulls up alongside, tinted windows up and in full effect.

LA dickwad.

The passenger’s side door opens and a young man pops out that you don’t recognize, and turning the corner behind the car comes Shawn.

“You hit my car! And you’re...here?”

Shawn looks awestruck at you, “did you see my post?!”

“Yes!” You squawk, “of course I saw it why the hell else would I be here? Where have you been? You’re late, and you dented my car!”

“Late?” He scoffs, “I was perfectly on time, you’re the one who is late. I was on my way out.”

“Ditto!”

Brian looks at you, to your car and then back to Shawn as he puts it together, “ohhh I get it now. Crappy car, weird sense of arousing fear while in her presence, that’s the girl.”

“My car is not crappy!” You snip.

Brian goes to say something but Shawn shakes his head at his friend.

“So you came?” Shawn’s voice is light, and his eyes are wide.

You roll yours, “yes of course I did! Where were you?”

He points up.

You bury your hands in your face, “wrong floor, idiot.”

Shawn’s face scrunches and you can pinpoint the second the lightbulb goes off in his head, “FUCK.”

“Yeah, fuck is right, dumbass.”

Brian snorts.

Shawn steps forward and puts his hands on either side of your pouting face, “well can I at least finally get your name and phone number?”

You nod between his massive palms, “yeah, you’re going to need it when I file an insurance claim against you for denting my car.”

He laughs and releases you, “still want to go on a date with me?”

You teeter back and forth on your heels, knowing you’re going to say yes but also wanting to watch Shawn sweat a bit, “maybe, I don’t know…”

“Don’t make me hit the other side of your car -”

“I’m kidding, I’d be very happy to still go on a date with you. Just leave Sir Louis out of it,” you smile, “where are we going?”

Brian puffs up his chest and steps in between the both of you, “we’re going to Canada, baby!”

#yeah there's gonna be a part 3 lmao #shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Look How We’ve Grown

Summary: You never forget your first crush.

A/N: Yeah, I ended up writing it.

Word Count: 1.3k

And away, and away, we go!

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice called from beside the man.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, stepping out of her way so she could get past him to reach for one of the boxes of cereal on the shelf.

“Michael?” the woman said again, halting her movements to carefully study the man in front of her.

“Sophia?” he responded, taking a good look at the woman.

“Holy shit, it is you,” she breathed. “Geez, it’s been… wow…”

He gave a short chuckle as he passed a hand through his hair. “Fifteen years?”

“Give or take,” she told him with a nod, a dazed smile on her face. “Wow… how’ve you been?”

“Good, good. You?”

“Good,” she smiled, shaking her head. “Sorry, I just… this is crazy.”

“You’re telling me,” Michael laughed. “When did you move to LA?”

Sophia counted on her fingers as she thought. “Like 2, 3 years ago. My job relocated me.”

“Oh, shit. That’s awesome. Hey, um… would it be totally crazy if I asked you to dinner, or something? So we could catch up?”

“That sounds great. Do you still like pizza?”

“I love pizza.”

“Cool, there’s this place off of Santa Monica Blvd. De Santos?”

“Oh, I love them! Tomorrow at 7?”

“See you then.” Sophia started to move away to finish her shopping but stopped before she got to the end of the aisle. “Hey, Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Really good to see you.”

“Really good to see you too, Soph.”

~~~

“So which colors do you think we’ll have the most of?” Sophia asked, her mouth watering at the sight of the snack-sized bag of M&M’s sitting in the middle of the desk between her and Michael.

“Blue,” Michael responded.

“Blue,” Sophia repeated slowly as she wrote his answer down on their science sheet. “We have to say why.”

“Because there’s more blue dye?” he guessed with a shrug.

“That’s silly!” she laughed.

“Well every time I eat M&M’s there’s always more blue ones,” Michael continued to defend his answer. “Plus,” he went on to add, tapping at the worksheet. “It says ‘hypothesis.’ We can be wrong.”

“Fine,” she huffed, her pencil scratching their answer onto the paper. “We think there will be more blue colored M&M’s because blue dye is more popular,” she spoke aloud as she wrote, both as a way for Michael to know what she was writing, and for him to approve or offer suggestions.

“Perfect. Now what?”

“Now we open it, and count how many there are total. And how many there are of each color.”

Michael tore open the package, carefully spilling the candy out on their desk. They raced each other to count them all. “13!” they both shouted at each other in victory.

“2 green,” he told her, already separating them by color. He prattled off the other numbers as she recorded them. “1 yellow. 1 orange. 2 red. 3 blue! And… 4 brown. Dang!” He slumped against his seat, crossing his arms.

“It was a good guess,” she told him, trying to make him feel better. “You were almost right. And we’re allowed to be wrong,” she reminded him.

“I guess,” he shrugged, but sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “So now what? Do we get to eat them?”

Her eyes scanned down the page, her finger trailing down it. “We have to explain if our hypothesis was right or not. But I have the numbers down, so yeah.”

“Okay,” he said, setting the dividing up the M&M’s. “Do you want yellow or orange?”

“Yellow, please,” she replied, as she filled in their last answer. “Our hypothesis was incorrect because there were more brown M&M’s than blue ones. Done!”

“These ones are yours,” he said, moving a small pile of the candy over to her side.

“But I have 7…”

“Yeah. I was wrong, so you can have the extra.”

She smiled briefly at him before an idea struck. She carefully bit into the blue M&M, tearing half off into her mouth, the other half still safe between her thumb and index finger. “Here!” she laughed, handing him the uneaten portion. “We can each have half.”

“Ew, it was in your mouth!” he giggled, taking it anyway.

“Well, I’ll take it back,” she said, holding out her hand.

“No way!” he continued to giggle as he popped the piece in his mouth.

~~~

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Sophia marveled at the man. She gave a toss of her head as she took a sip of her beer.

“How could I forget? You were my best friend all through primary school.”

“Yeah, and then you got buddy buddy with Calum Hood, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Michael laughed. “I thought you liked Cal.”

“Oh, yeah. Cal’s great. So is Luke, so I’m glad you finally stopped hating on him.”

“Oh, I still hate Luke.”

Their laughs rang out. “Nah, I’m really glad you became friends with them. It worked out great for you.”

“The way you say that makes it seem like I just up, and ditched you for the guys. That’s not what happened. Was it?” His question held a trace of fear, like his version of their past being carefree and innocent was a lie compared to her memory.

“No, no,” she assured him. “I mean, I played my part in it, too. One year we were running around the schoolyard, swimming at each other’s houses, inviting each other to our birthday parties, trading Halloween candy, and being each other’s Valentines. And then the next we weren’t.”

“Yeah,” Michael reflected sadly. “I still can’t believe you were the only girl in our year who’s mum let you invite boys to your birthday.”

“Just you,” she confessed. “You were the only boy I ever invited.”

“Shit, really?! Damn… way to make a guy feel special, am I right?”

“I tried,” Sophia laughed.

“You succeed. Not many girls get to say they were my friend before all of this.”

“I imagine not many girls get to say they were in love with Michael Clifford pre-fame either, but they’re both titles I wear with honor.”

Michael choked on his sip of beer, some of it dribbling down into his beard scruff. He set the glass down, the liquid sloshing wildly. “W-what?”

Sophia’s cheeks burned. “Oh, you had to know.”

“I- I mean I had my guesses, but I never thought if it was true or not. Never really believed it. I mean, I was just some goofy ass kid.”

“A goofy ass kid who held my hair back when I threw up in a trash can in Year 1. A goofy ass kid who didn’t run away scared with all the other boys once cooties became a thing. A goofy ass kid who gave me a necklace for my eleventh birthday that I still have somewhere.”

“Okay, my mum gave you the necklace. My name was just on the card.”

Sophia chuckled softly. “Point is, Michael Clifford, you may have been a goofy ass kid, but that’s exactly why I loved you. And I was never much for believing in regretting things, but if I have one regret it’s that I didn’t tell you back then when it would have mattered.”

“Who says that telling me now doesn’t matter?”

She laughed in disbelief. “Because why would it? It was a primary school crush. And, I mean, I’m glad it was you, and not someone who grew up to be a douche. But c’mon, Michael.”

“Because if you had told me back then, I would have been the goofy ass kid who’s cheeks turned red as he ran away and laughed about it with his friends. Because you told me now when I’m grown up enough to do this.” He leaned towards her, his palms flat on the table as his head lowered to kiss her. Her own hands landed on top of his as she moved to meet him halfway, sighing in content as their lips connected. “If your one regret wasn’t telling me back, then mine’s not doing this back then,” he admitted as they pulled back, eyes shining and lips tingling.

“Who says they have to stay regrets?” she asked, hooking a finger under his chin and pulling him back in for a second kiss.

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @teenwolfss24 @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife

#look how we've grown #michael clifford #michael clifford fic #5sos #have fun guessing which memories actually happened to me!#or just enjoy reading some michael cuteness. i dont really care #galcal irwin

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baeklooming-day · 4 years

Text

Blue - the Constellation | Baekhyun

Previous part: Blue

Summary: Even though you are Slytherin’s queen of delinquents whilst he is Gryffindor’s praiseworthy admirable student, you manage to make your relationship work just excellently. Until one night, when you discover that there is something the stars didn’t tell you.

ft. older mean brother Sehun

Genre: Hogwarts!au, bad girl!au, good boy!au, fluffish

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: Y’all. I can’t believe that I’m doing this, I will probably cry halfway. If you haven’t read the first part (which was actually supposed to be the only part), then let me tell you to go and read it first before you start this one, otherwise you won’t wholly understand the plot!

~ play this <3

“My hour is over, leader.”

Actually, your hour has already been over a whole fifteen minutes ago. You impatiently tapped your navy blue nails on your book, looking at the tall boy before you.

Chanyeol.

It was only two weeks ago when you even noticed him being in one of your classes, the potion class precisely. Being the totally careless you, never paying any attention to others surrounding you, you probably would never know the boy existed if it wasn’t for Baekhyun, who was in Gryffindor as well.

Well, you could recall something that your brother said about him those two weeks ago, or at least you thought it were already two weeks that have passed, because since the particularly memorable yesterday you were feeling as if you were moving in completely another time lapse.

That’s right, it was just yesterday when after the unpleasant confrontation with Taehyung and other boys from Ravenclaw, you finally opened up to Baekhyun about your true feelings, loosing yourself in the softest kiss of his delicate lips, already knowing that you didn’t want to wait any longer and making things official right away, with your closest circle to witness that moment.

It was just yesterday, and right the next day which was, well, today, you appeared to have more than enough time to get yourself in trouble again, and end in your thousandth detention, again.

Even though it was practically just taking away your own free time, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about it, detention was literally your everyday’s bread at this point.

The only good thing about it was that, that your lovely boyfriend was so nice to take some time from his studying to come a little earlier and wait next to the room you were in until you were finally dismissed from your detention, just to walk back with you.

At this point, you couldn’t really decide if you preferred the boring detention in class, basically just sitting around without moving and looking at the wall until your time was over, or something like the last time when professor Snape threw you out for spilling the potion and ordered you to clean the whole damned Quidditch field.

When you thought about it, even though it was literally collecting all that old rubbish that was laying around, forgotten, with your own two hands because you weren’t allowed to use magic for that, it was some kind of wonderful to be in Baekhyun’s company, only the two of you and clear blue night sky above your heads.

You looked at your nails, painted with navy blue nail polish that were still quietly tapping on your astrology book.

Blue was indeed a thing that brought you and Baekhyun together, you could state.

Blue was also something that resembled Ravenclaw, and as much as you loved this color itself you honestly disliked remembering that it was your former boyfriend who was lucky enough to wear it every day included somewhere in his stupid uniform.

You have always hated the green of your own house, but at the same time you couldn’t imagine yourself being in any other house than the proud Slytherin.

One thing that you could imagine right now though, was finally getting the hell out of this detention, in those fifteen additional minutes that you have been kept in there you would manage to make at least ten circles on a broomstick around the whole school.

You knew it, and you were fully aware that ending up in detentions was your own fault, but of course you wouldn’t admit it out loud.

Normally, the reasons which almost always lead you to be placed there were your careless and often disrespectful manners which, you always used to justify that in moments when something or someone decided to make you totally angry, you couldn’t really control and let it out on the one who woke up the volcano known as your nerves.

You also loved to blame it on the stars.

You loved astrology, even though you never talked openly about it knowing that even in magical world not everybody believed in the things it said, so if anybody was about to ask you about it, you would probably answer that it was a guilty pleasure of yours.

And right now, your little guilty pleasure as called, was the reason for your one hour and fifteen extra minutes detention of being held hostage in an empty classroom.

Well, almost empty, if you overlooked Chanyeol.

You just didn’t understand why what looked like all the teachers trusted and praised him so much that he ended up being the one selected to watch you for the rest of your forever alone detention until you could finally leave.

Frankly, you really didn’t get it because he wasn’t even a prefect.

To be honest, Chanyeol seemed to be quite popular amongst the teachers as well as students, but in contrast to you his fame was good, yours was that of a full time girl delinquent who was just a whole lot more impulsive and unapproachable than her older brother.

For all you knew, Sehun and Chanyeol were kind of friends, that’s why right now you started to wonder if Chanyeol really overlooked those damned fifteen minutes on the clock, or if your stupid brother told him to keep you there longer than necessary only to get on your nerves again.

“Look, Y/N, I really wanna leave too but-” Chanyeol leaned on the desk behind him. “I guess you didn’t hear the last sentence.” You could already see a little frustration on his face. “They said that your detention will be now thirty minutes longer for every rule you break... Don’t look at me like that, you know that I don’t make the rules... So, there are still another fifteen minutes left.”

You shrugged. “Screw them.”

Chanyeol gave you a look of disbelief. “Oh my god, Y/N, how can you not care?”

“Like this.” You looked at him with a straight face, raising your both arms in some sort of a ‘what can I do?’ sign.

“Y/N.” He started again.

“Don’t call my name so often, you are wasting the oxygen.” You stopped him. “More than that, Baekhyun should be already waiting for me outside, so if you could let me go. Didn’t you mention that you were about to go meet up with some of your friends or whatever? Then you can go to them immediately if I’ll go now, so” You were carefully observing him, looking for any kind of change in his expression that would show that you won.

He looked like he was questioning his own life choices right now, but finally he spoke up, confirming your thought. “Alright let’s just go, I wanted to hang out with Taehyung before anyway...”

You looked up at him with question in your bright eyes. “You hang out with Taehyung?”

“Uhm, yeah” He answered a little confused.

“Well, you do know that this dirty clown has been bullying Baekhyun since, like, yesterday?” You couldn’t believe this. Naturally you knew why Taehyung bothered Baekhyun whenever there was an opportunity to do so now, you were the mere reason. But you made it your mission to never be quiet and verbally destroy Taehyung every time when he thought it would be a splendid idea to open his own mouth and talk trash about your poor boyfriend who was way too nice to tell anyone anything mean himself.

The mean part was obviously your area of expertise.

Without waiting for Chanyeol’s reply, you stood up taking your book and dashed to the door, expecting to be met with Baekhyun’s lovely smile right after you pushed them open.

And to your delight, he was there waiting, but as soon as you took in the state he was in, you felt the hot blood coming up to your cheeks making a vexed dark blush appear, a signal that you were starting to loose all your cool.

Baekhyun was sitting on a wooden bench right next to the door, leaning his back on the cold wall.

His uniform was completely drenched in some black, unidentifiable slimy substance, and so was his hair, face, and even glasses.

You stood there frozen in your spot until he finally noticed you and hurried up to come closer to you, although avoiding your eyes, looking at his shoes.

“Which b-” You started, only to be interrupted a second later. You intended to ask him who did it to him, but of course you already knew which ‘b-’ it was.

“I had the pleasure to run into Taehyung on my way here.” Baekhyun said. “I-” He continued. “I’m stupid. I can never talk back to him, and I feel even more stupid now that I let him do this to me and-”

This time it was you who interrupted him, by placing your hands on his black stained cheeks and gently pulling him in for a soft peck on his lips.

A light blush creeped up on his skin from underneath the stains and his pupils dilated ever so slightly, a completely melting look which you loved on him.

“So this ass did it to you?” You asked.

“Yes, I really-”

“Is it beef yeah” You concluded. “I’m calling backup-”

You pulled him on his sleeve, directing yourself to your dorm. “Wait, Y/N, what backup” Baekhyun gave you a questionable look, but let you lead him anyway.

“As in, my wand, the backup.” You answered. Since the Quidditch field cleaning punishment without magic, you weren’t allowed to show up to any detention with your wand, so it was left in your dorm. Jerks. “I will jinx this raven shit until his own mother won’t recognize him.” You said.

“You can’t fight fire with fire, my diamond, you” Baekhyun tried to sound more earnest, but he failed to hold back a chuckle at your comment.

“Then what do you suggest me to do?” You asked. “Because I won’t let that jackass continue this. It’s payback, bitch. If he wanna play then I will show him how to play. Because I’m the freaking coach and I’m pissed off right now.” You crossed your arms on your chest, letting off his sleeve that you have been holding.

Baekhyun gave you a lopsided smile. “Well, for starters I actually need to clean up.” He said.

“Fair enough.”

And with that being said, you decided to leave your evil plans on how to come back at the Ravenclaw boy be, at least for the time being.

You would have plenty of time to think about it later.

If there was something that visibly distinguished you from your older brother, it would be the detail that Sehun was way more composed than you were.

If there was something that particularly pissed you off about him, well, it would be quite everything. And in the least expected moments.

“But WHY-” You whined. “Why won’t you just give me the damn spell! Last time when you went and jinxed him things were quiet for two weeks.” You continued whining, following your brother around the Slytherin common room like a puppy, tugging on his arm because, that cruel moron, decided to instantaneously become deaf to your pleas.

“Listen up, my baby freak sister.” Sehun whirled around only to give you a look of unmasked disapproval. “That was the first and the last time I went down to your sick level of solving problems. Do you want to go and mess him up every two weeks then, what the-”

You lightly punched his shoulder. “You clown! I will mess you up if you don’t help me out, what kind of brother are you-”

“Not my fault that you always get involved with cuckoos.”

“Sehun I swear I will-”

“Will you calm down finally?” A subtle voice filled the air behind you, followed with soft footsteps audible on the floor. Soon Minseok appeared next to you, with his hands in his pockets. “I know that all that brother-sister fight is apparently necessary for something but your yelling can be heard at the beginning of the hallway.”

Yeah, apparently it was, and in particular when your brother was Sehun.

That’s why you were glad that Minseok, as well as Kyungsoo, were your a whole lot calmer cousins who watched out for eventual flying insults and roasts becoming too loud for everyone’s liking.

“Then tell him something.” You pointed at Sehun, a pleading look in your eyes thrown to your cousin next to you.

“Oh my god-” Minseok covered his face with both his hands for a moment. “You know I love you both but we just had one drama a while back and now a new one is up?” The question was more directed to you.

You immediately jumped up. “It’s always the same drama! I come out of detention, first thing I see is Baekhyun splashed with some black slime from head to toe! This asshole Taehyung made it his goal to make his days go down the freaking toilet.” You remarked.

Minseok lifted one corner of his mouth, an apologetic smile. “Dear cousin, this is a quite common thing when your ex boyfriend hates your new boyfriend.” He paused for a brief moment. “But okay, that shows that this kid is cracked.”

Sehun straightened. “I told you he was bananas. I never liked him.” A sparkle flickered in his eyes, only to squint them right after and put a finger on his lower lip. “Actually, I was always right when I said someone you were starting to fall for in the past wasn’t right for you. Beginning with that one oblivious dirt, what was his name again, something with D-”

“QUIET, YOU FILTH” You interrupted him, slapping his shoulder one more time.

All three of you were so invested in the discussion that you completely failed to acknowledge the last member of your family quietly entering the room carrying a pile of books.

“Woah, what’s up squad” Kyungsoo carefully put the books on the nearest table. “Is it an unannounced assembly again?” He let out a soft chuckle, moving over to the rest of you.

“Soo, save me” You leaned your cheek on your cousin’s shoulder in a childlike manner, starting to tell him the newest events which the other two already knew.

All in all, you didn’t complete your evil plan for Taehyung that day, but nonetheless you felt a little better knowing that your brother and two cousins were there to listen to you, even when you came up with totally crazy nonsense.

And again, you really needed to appreciate your family a little more.

Later the following day, just when you finished your beloved Astronomy class, you dashed through the hallway for your next up lesson, the History of Magic.

You weren’t particularly pleased at the moment, even though Astronomy was always able to cheer you up whenever you felt upset, at the same time being as good as the only subject which always had your full attention.

But today you couldn’t really follow the lesson in tranquility as much as you wanted because unfortunately, Astronomy was also the class that you shared with Taehyung.

Taehyung, who apparently planned it before to bother you for the whole damned lesson for whatever sick reason that time.

Although you were sure that it was always the exactly same reason as before.

First, he started to blow small bluebell flames in your direction which came right at your temple.

As a matter of fact at that point to be completely honest, you didn’t know if you were more astonished by the fact that he could actually perform this spell, or that even though he was being so obvious Professor Sinistra didn’t warn him even one time.

And there was no way that she didn’t notice what he was doing with his own wand during the lesson.

When you kept on ignoring him, next up were little flying notes landing on your desk. There were merely ugly sketches of a person covered in some black mass, which was obviously supposed to be Baekhyun.

You felt the extreme need to just stand up from your seat, walk over to him and smash a book on his nose but you decided to keep your cool at least in that one class.

So before you could change your mind, as soon as you were all dismissed you collected your belongings and left the room, not even looking back.

You looked at one of your deep-coloured tarot cards which you’ve been whirling around with your fingers on your way to your next class.

Nine of Cups.

Monthly card for Capricorn, you wished it was something less optimistic though knowing that your ex boyfriend was indeed, a Capricorn.

But so was Kyungsoo, so you weren’t really all about instantly despising the said sign.

You continued walking, actually there was quite some free time left until the next lesson but right now you just wanted to keep your distance from every possible source that could make you mad all over again.

Your thoughts were full of Baekhyun though, you wished he would be there right now, be it just looking at him was enough to relax you.

Before you knew it, you heard fast footsteps behind you, followed by a loud voice right after.

But unfortunately, that voice didn’t belong to the one you wished to hear right this instant.

“Look who it is” Taehyung quickly appeared before you, his eyes fixed on you. “I just don’t get it how you can be so stupid, Y/N. This is your last call to come back to me-”

“Oh, what a waste, there’s no signal to call so I think this is YOUR last call, how you described it, to screw off before I mess you up” You said.

“You know that I’m just getting started” He let out a stupid laugh. “I will make your dear Baekhyun regret that he ever laid his eyes on you-”

“Touch him and I will end you, you sorry excuse of a ma-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as he abruptly pulled you closer by your left wrist, a clearly wrathful look in his eyes. “You were never like this with me. So protective. Tell me Y/N” He paused. “Have you done this with him?”

You felt like your eyes became ten times bigger, looking at him not believing he was really asking you that question. “What? Are you actually stupid? And even if, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I will literally murder him, and I will make you watch this.”

Alright, now you really were out of it. What on earth.

Before you knew it, you already took your wand to your free right hand, ready to use whatever that came to your mind on him, when you felt someone else’s fingers around your right wrist, stopping it.

Sehun.

“What are you DOING.” Said your brother in a firm voice. “Enough is enough Y/N.”

You gave in, letting him take your wand away. For a moment you really were about to leave it be and follow Sehun, but when you saw the impertinent, triumphant smile playing on Taehyung’s lips, you just couldn’t.

In a matter of seconds, you grasped him by the collar, pulled him down to your level and measured a concrete blow to his nose, which to be completely honest was tempting you this whole time already.

Then everything happened in a blur, soon running appeared Professor Flitwick together with Professor Snape, taking in the state you put Taehyung in with blood coming out of his nose.

“What-” Started Professor Flitwick. “Miss Y/L/N! What is this!”

You moved to properly face your two teachers. “We are Slytherin, and this is jackass.” You said pointing at Taehyung, as if nothing wrong just happened.

“It is always you!” Professor Snape’s voice joined in. “Oh Sehun and Y/N! You are both a disgrace for Slytherin. Yes, you too Oh, I know everything about jinxing Kim Taehyung. Minus FIFTEEN points! Each of you! Now LEAVE!” He yelled at you before turning around and quickly walking away, letting Professor Flitwick deal with Taehyung and his bloody nose alone.

Sehun grasped your wrist, pulling you with him as he walked away. When you were both far enough, he spoke again. “You are my biological sister, but you are quite literally freaking insane.” He said. “But I must give you that one, that punch was something.”

You looked at your brother, meeting his eyes and, as soon as you did so the two of you broke down in an uncontrollable laughter.

“That’s crazy. I feel like-” Baekhyun looked deep in thought, his eyes wavering on something in the distance. “I feel like this is kind of my fault.”

You squeezed his hand, a reassuring gesture. “No, it isn’t. It’s-” You looked up. “the Gemini constellation.”

You started to walk a little slower, so that you could take a more proper look. It became dark really fast that time, just when you and Baekhyun decided to go and take a walk, alone, without Sehun, your cousins, or most importantly without Taehyung spoiling the atmosphere like he used to do every time when he showed up these days.

You ended up on the quiet, empty Quidditch field, the place where your heart started to flutter for the shy Gryffindor boy for the first time.

You felt like ever since that moment when you got together crazy things kept on happening to the two of you, turning out in a total mess which at the end of the day neither of you seemed to have or at least try to have under control.

But then again, for some reason you didn’t care.

Baekhyun was all you cared about, and at the same time as you realised it, you felt like you just discovered a completely new side to you as well.

You were still a little amazed by the fact that you managed to move on so quickly but, maybe it was all written in the stars?

You felt a little pull backwards, realising that Baekhyun stopped still holding onto your hand.

“Those two stars in Gemini are shining the brightest.” He said. “They kind of remind me of those little sparkles in your eyes when you genuinely laugh.”

You smiled uncontrollably.

He was talking about you being his diamond, but it looked like he didn’t even see what a diamond he already was himself, especially now when the cold starlight was falling down on him, illuminating his fair skin and dancing on his black hair, making him look as if he was glowing in an angel light.

“You know-” He started again. “That diamond can also mean a star? As in, the diamonds, the stars-” He scratched the back of his neck, looking suddenly a little nervous.

“Mhm” You muttered, reaching out your hand to brush off those few dark locks that fell on his eyes.

“So-” Baekhyun’s cheeks were now giving in to the dark blush that started creeping up on them. “There’s something I never told you. I like to sing sometimes. And-” He bit his lower lip. “I wrote a song for you.” He didn’t say it, he whispered it, but loud enough for you to hear it well.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Sing it for me.”

You expected him to start right away, but instead he took your other hand and gently pulled you with him, only to let it go and place his own hand on your waist, slowly spinning around with you in his arms.

“You really do shine like a real diamond, you know” He adoringly smiled at you, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb before he started to sing.

If you thought that Baekhyun’s normal voice was like honey, then you could say you were quite literally blown away by how velvety his singing voice was.

There were only the two of you on the deserted Quidditch field, slowly dancing to the only music which was Baekhyun’s voice.

In that moment, you couldn’t help it but let out a giggle, being so grateful for making that potion explode in your class back in the day and getting a detention for that.

It was all worth it.

You got a stupid detention, but you also ended up getting the sweetest boy you could wish for in one go.

“I love it.” You told him when he finished the song.

“You do?”

You didn’t answer, instead you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in, now only milimetres away from his face.

“Wh-” The dark blush on his cheeks was now beaming. “What are you doing...?”

You gave him a cheeky smile, enjoying his embarassment. “That what you are apparently too shy to ask for.”

A second later, you were kissing him so passionately, catching him completely off guard, causing to lose the balance and fall back on the grass, being pulled down together with him.

You landed on top of him, having the perfect view on his surprised expression. “Is this what they meant by saying that you were impulsive-” He quietly asked, eyes locked with yours.

You started laughing, bringing your hand up to gently run your fingers through his hair before you kissed him once again. “I don’t know, people talk a lot.”

There it was, that lovely smile that you loved to see on him so much.

You didn’t know how much time has passed while you didn’t even bother to stand up from the ground, just laying there with him laughing and kissing as if his lips were the only source of oxygen for you, with just the blue dark sky above you to see this moment.

After a while, Baekhyun spoke up again in a soft tone. “Y/N... Do you know what I love more than blue?” He asked you.

“What?”

“You.” He answered. “I love you more.”

A/N: i am posting this from my grave yall, i am dead and super anxious about this, leave me your opinions ;__; feel free to reblog as always if you liked it >,<

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