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quokkacore · 3 years

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with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.

[7:57 AM]

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.

A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.”

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.”

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.

Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”

The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?”

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal."

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

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elysianslove · 4 years

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first of all can i just say congrats on the 500 like i'm so happy for you and you absolutely deserve it (huge bear hug :) ) now i had this crazy hcs idea and i immediately thought of you so long story short how would Karasuno , Aoba Johsai and Nekoma react to their sweet manager having powers similar to those of scarlet witch (marvel) or mirajane strauss (fairytail anime) feel free to pick whichever one is easier and thank you so much for indulging my crazy request. love u lots - safiyah <3333

oh my goodness thank you sm for your words here’s a bear hug <3 also also i was literally just thinking just how cool it would be to have like a supernatural au haikyuu thing and then you send me this wow we on some mind reading shit. anyways i really hope you like this. sorry it’s like hq on crack if you want a serious one lemme know hsjkhsk

karasuno high

they lose their shit.

every single one of them.

mentally they’re all like 12 (except daichi and mqybe ennoshita) so i definitely think they’d have a very childish reaction to it.

it’s so endearing though.

they find out while walking you home one night: it’s very stormy and they just wanted to make sure you get home safe because they worship the ground you walk on. cue like a fucking billboard nearly falling on you and the group of boys and your instincts just kick in and you stop it mid air.

noya’s still screaming even after everyone’s just gone silent and is gawking at the fact a billboard (or whatever the object is i can’t think rip) is hovering above them. in mid air. because of you. what the fuck?

daichi’s blood pressure drops he’s like somebody catch me im about to faint wtf is going on.

you kinda freak and just toss it away and run your way back home, as far away from the boys as possible.

but alas, you’re their manager, and you have duties to fulfill. so you show up to practice the next morning terrified for your life.

you’re not really sure why you’re so scared and nervous. you just are? it’s a huge part of who you are and it’d be a big bummer if the most important boys in your life didn’t accept it.

noya greets you with a really big hug

tanaka’s so loud but what’s new <3

daichi and suga just come up to you and gently ask if you’re okay because you ran off so quick yesterday

they all act super normal during practice but you can tell

you can tell

they want to ask so many questions they’re gonna explode

after practice, when coach ukai and takeda leave, and it’s just you, kiyoko, and the boys, it’s s o quiet. you would hear a pin drop.

you just sigh and go “you can ask”

your poor eardrums </3

they’re so fascinated by everything you say

kiyoko’s like “i had a hunch” like how do u have a hunch about something like this anyways what a queen

noya’s like “make me fly”

and tsukki in the back “drop him on his ass pls”

they definitely make you do so many things for them with it

cleaning duty is now on you because hello !! you can move things with your mind !!

kags doesn’t get it. he’s like. ok? and ? i can set volleyballs perfectly, hinata can jump really high despite his height, she can move things with her mind? so what?

i love him

they’re also crazy good at keeping it a secret?

not hinata tho he slips up so often like thank god the secret isn’t realistic or believable

he’ll be like “oh yeah? well our manager can move things with her mind!”

and suga just has to usher him away with a pained smile like “yeah she’s so incredible haha” while doing that thing moms do where they squeeze or pinch your shoulder if they’re mad at you in public

it feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders when they find out because the closer you grew to these boys, the more they felt like family to you.

aoba johsai

my favorite team

i hc makki as someone that smokes weed. pls don’t try to convince me otherwise. look at him. he’s a pothead <3

this is going somewhere i swear.

so you’re a 3rd year manager, meaning you’ve been with these boys a while now, specifically the third years of the team, so y’all are pretty close.

how they find out: it’s like 3am on a weekend, the seijoh 4 and some of the second years. you’d baked a cake with like all of them all at once in the kitchen, so it was now a mess, so you’re attempting to clean it up as fast as you can the way you know best — with your hands and your mind. makki walks in, high as shit, sees this and just.

“damn must be the weed.”

you don’t hear him. so. uh oh.

he was probably sent there by iwa to get water or something, so iwaizumi walks in and just yells so loud “what the fuck!”

it’s like they’re all summoned by this. they eventually all pile into the kitchen and you’re literally just frozen in fear with pots and pans and utensils and specks of flour hovering by you. and then you maintain eye contact with iwa as you lift one hand and direct the pans into a cupboard and slowly shut it.

“so it’s not the weed?”

they honestly. don’t act any different tbh

it’s like an added feature of yours that they appreciate.

oikawa asks you to read his mind to test if what happened that night was real and you just lift him up from off his seat.

“i asked you to read my mind tho hm”

yeah mind reading is just a regular thing now. they will slyly ask you to read the other team’s minds during a match and you’re like no that’s cheating. but you do. and you subtlety give them advice. like “hm i wonder if that team’s gonna do this specific attack”

also oikawa asks (read:begs) u to like help them make it through to nationals

you say “will it feel like a true accomplishment if i do?”

shuts his pretty face up <3

they also make you like. toss volleyballs to them. but with your mind. multiple of them. they take it as some stupid challenge idk these boys are dumb i love them

they also love throwing things at. YOU. LIKE WTF?

like haha dodgeball but it’s a group of 6’0+ athletes against just. you.

sounds fair

they also become insanely protective of you after they find out. idk how that clicks w them but. yes.

especially mattsun and iwa ? like men. relax.

anyways they would abuse the shit out of your powers genuinely but it’s okay it’s out of love <3

nekoma high

they. they’re idiots. all of them.

kuroo would probably be like but scientifically ! this makes zero sense

omg kenma would lose his MIND.

HES A GAMER BRUH

HED BE OBSESSED W YOU.

but lowkey bc none of that simp shit </3

ooou okay so you’re at a training camp and they sneak you in with them so you guys can play truth or dare

bc yk. you’re kids.

and y’all are going around and you just pick truth and someone asks what’s the biggest secret you’ve ever kept from us and they expect some dirty shit they’re nasty smh

and then you straight up go “i can move things w my mind”

and theyre like ok miss stop playin fr

keep in mind it’s dark as hell in the dormitory and eerily quiet and you shift one of the chairs in there, and it squeaks loudly

yamamoto jumps and looks at you w so much fear in his eyes. “that wasn’t you”

“bet?”

and then suddenly all chairs are moving all at once and yamamato deadass screams

kuroo’s shrugging like. “it’s just the wind,” like ur not in a closed off room w all the windows shut whatever u say sir <3

lev’s like

gone into shock. seriously someone go get him water or something.

when morning comes they’re all like hella scared to approach you except kenma and kuroo bc kenma— is in awe. kuroo — does not believe it.

you’re kinda :( that they’re scared of you and you approach them after the day is over and just apologize, and tell them you didn’t mean to scare them and that you’d never hurt them or even consider it.

they do a 180 bruh they just all go “awwwwww” and suffocate you in a group hug so you shove them all off for good measure lmao

kuroo still doesn’t believe it until you save his ass in broad daylight and he’s like ok maybe it wasn’t fake so what sue me

whenever there are training camps where other schools come they beg u to help them prank the boys

especially bokuto and hinata

and you do obviously

it’s hilarious watching them scream as something moves slightly. you never do it that it’s suspicious just enough to be like did that happen or is my mind messing w me rn

scarlet witch also has the ability to mess w people’s mind in the literal sense and whenever one of the boys pisses you off particularly you just make them see their biggest fear

kenma asks you to reenact some of his favorite gameplays for him

it’s literally just roleplay and you couldn’t care less someone catches the two of you you’re no pussy you can admit when you’re having fun

overall a very chaotic reaction

they don’t treat you any different they’re just like 100x more hyped about who you are. like the fact that you’re their manager is already a blessing and now this !!!

incredible <3333

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #karasuno x reader #aoba johsai x reader #nekoma x reader #haikyuu au

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Catch me - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you’re Tom’s neighbor and he comes to your place after he’s locked out of his house on a rainy night. Requested by anon. + Dry Humping also requested by different anon ask

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: okay, so here it is! My Tom Hardy requested smut! I’d also like to announce that I’ll be attempting to partake in this years’ Kinktober, and this is my first fic, fulfilling the prompts dry humping + face sitting. I’ll post the list of prompts I created for myself, along with the characters they are paired up with, a bit later. I also say “attempting” because I actually had a pretty bad accident last night and I’m still unable to do regular things like sitting or walking, so it’s been a struggle to get this done. If in anyday I am unable to write, I won’t force myself to do it. But that’s all, please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it! My requests are now empty, so feel free to send me any ideas you might have - I can either integrate them in one of my fics for the kinktober challenge or work on them in November.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I had watched with only partly concealed interest as the new neighbor slowly grew more comfortable at her place right next door to me. At first, it truly was just a slight curiosity founded in my observation of just how beautiful she was. But then, one day, right after she moved in, she caught me staring, and opened up the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Just like that, I was stuck with a teenage-boy crush that left me blushing and stuttering every single time she so much as looked my way.

If there was one thing people knew about me, was that I was not the blushing, stuttering type.

But things only got worse as time went on. She turned out to be just the perfect neighbor, usually coming around to offer me cookies or other baked goods precisely when I needed it the most.

“How do you always know when I’m feeling down or hungry, sweetheart?” I even ended up asking as I accepted yet another tray of brownies from her tiny hands. Her sweet little giggle went straight to my pants, instantly hardening my severely ignored member.

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Tom. Anytime you get back home this late, I can pretty much assume you barely had anything to eat all day, and it’s very clear you won’t have the energy to whip up anything right now.” My eyebrows raised up at her comment, but before I could satiate my curiosity, she quickly added, “And before you ask, no, I don’t spend my life looking out of the eyehole, you just have pretty loud steps when you’re tired, I can easily hear from my living room when you walk the hallway during the evening.”

Chuckling, I nodded, granting her that. I knew that she meant no harm, but I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” Her eyes widened at my apology, and she immediately waved my words away, clearly mortified by the fact that I had interpreted it as a complaint.

“Gosh, Tom, no, that’s not what I… Please, don’t worry about it. I’m just a terrible insomniac, and I have good ears. It’s not like you’re waking me up every time you come home or anything. That would be a bummer, but also highly improbable, since I’m a very heavy sleeper…” I had come to understand that she was very capable of maintaining a conversation completely by herself, but everytime she took notice of it, she scrambled to get out of my sight. I figured someone in her life must have told her she talked too much, but personally, I’d do anything to witness her little monologues at least a bit more. She just seemed so interesting, and selfless despite the constant stream of consciousness that poured out of her lips whenever she was nervous.

I liked knowing I made her nervous. It made me feel less terrible about wanting to know more about her. Did that make me a creep? Hell, probably. But I couldn’t pretend like I gave a damn. I felt this inexplicable attraction to her, her personality and body, and that was it. I wanted to uncover what it was about her that had me so engrossed.

And one night, the opportunity presented itself to me. I had gone out of my car in a hurry because of the rain that had decided to pour all over the city and didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon, so I only noticed that I had locked my keys on the trunk of the car when I was already in front of my own apartment’s door, dripping all over the hallway.

Fuck, that was just so typical of me. Why did I even bother to get my backpack out of the car, when I was already arriving home close to midnight and would be back at work early in the morning? It wasn’t like I would have the time to use my computer or anything.

Sighing, I ran a wet hand over my face in an effort to figure out my next move. Obviously I would need to get someone to open my car for me, but in the middle of the night, it’d be hard to know who would come. It would definitely be easier to find someone in the morning, and I could very well get an Uber to some cheap motel and spend the night there.

I was about to do just that when suddenly the door behind me opened, and a delicious smell of lasagna filled my nostrils, making me aware of just how hungry I was. “Tom?” Her sweet, sweet voice instantly calmed my tense muscles, making me open a smile at the sight of her despite the series of events I had just lived through. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped my lips at the awareness of just how pathetic my situation was, but there was no real humour in my tone. I looked down at my wet shoes before gathering the courage to look her in the eye again, giving her a small smile. “I locked myself out,” was all I said, and before I could even further explain my situation, her eyes had widened and she was reaching out to me, holding me by my wrist and pulling me inside of her place.

“You poor thing. And right on the worst night for it to happen? Here, sit down while I go look for something you can change into. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, would we?” I briefly considered offering some kind of protest, explaining how I intended to go spend the night in a motel, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. It was late, I was tired and I was really fucking cold and just by being in the close proximity of this beautiful creature, I already felt a little bit better, so I’d just shut up and wait to see how this would play out for me.

She came back with some sweatpants and a large cotton shirt, a bashful look on her face. “I bought these sweatpants from the male’s department because they’re usually comfier than the ones I find in the female department, they should fit you well.” I accepted the small bundle of fabric she offered, one eyebrow raised as I stared down at her in curiosity.

“What about the shirt?” I asked, and she blushed five different shades of pinks and reds, making her just that much cuter. It made me want to eat her whole, and the fact that she stood a few good feet under me didn’t help that at all. I knew I could break her so easily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt like I could slap myself over how silly I was behaving over something so ordinary. Why would Tom care about me having an ex? It was only natural, it’s not like I was a blushing virgin nun who never did anything slightly out of the ordinary. Sex was ordinary. I’ve done it before. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t assume I hadn’t.

Oh, what am I saying? There’s no way he has even considered this subject when it comes to me. Why on Earth would he be thinking about my sexual past? What is going on with me? I feel like I’m going insane.

I could feel just how warm my face had gotten, but I still had some amount of pride in me to salvage the situation, so I managed to roll my eyes as I pushed Tom further inside my house, in the direction of my bathroom.

“You’re a smart man, you can figure out where the shirt came from.” His chuckle shouldn’t be so sexy, but what about this man wasn’t?

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” And with that mysterious sentence, he locked himself in my bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. Granted, most of them revolved around him, so I couldn’t really say I was that alone, but the lack of someone to talk to only meant that my mind was swirling and a lot of different things I shouldn’t be thinking about managed to dominate my head.

Just what did he mean by what he said? Could it be that he… No, of course not. There was no reason for him to be jealous of me. It’s not like he could possibly want me. Right?

I spent the entire time he was taking a shower stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, so much so that I didn’t even notice he had come back to the kitchen and was watching me from the doorway until he cleared his throat, making me jump out of my skin while carrying a plate full of very hot lasagna.

“Oh,” was all I said as I felt some of the sauce spill on my hand and my chest, some even managing to get on my face. But Tom’s rough ‘Shit’ brought a giggle to my lips, despite the discomfort of the slight burning sensation on my skin.

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I thought you’d noticed me standing here.” While he assured me of his lack of intention to hurt me - as if I didn’t already know- he had grabbed the plate I was still holding onto and placed it on the counter, quickly procuring an already dirty rag and eagerly starting to clean me up, first my hand, and then…

Before he pressed the fabric to my chest, he looked up at me, his beautiful eyes catching mine and making me suck in a breath. “T-that’s alright,” I managed to get out, trying to look away from his hypnotizing gaze. “It doesn’t really hurt that bad. I think with a bit of cold water it might calm down.”

He nodded, agreeing with my words, but his gaze still searched mine for something I didn’t understand. “I sure hope so,” was all he said initially, his eyes finally dropping from mine to focus on the task at hand. “But I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

The comment puzzled me, rendering me useless for the time being. I could only tilt my head as I looked down at him, still crouching in front of me to clean my chest before he finally stood up on his full height and grabbed my face, gently engulfing it in one of those huge palms of his.

“I was really hoping that you were single, but I guess that would be expecting too much from the universe, considering how beautiful you are.” My eyes grew twice their normal size as I immediately tried to push him away and hide my face from his view, suddenly incredibly shy. But of course, he didn’t let me, instead pressing me against the counter and his very hard body, while he very carefully wiped away the few drops of sauce on my cheek.

For a few seconds, I let him work in silence, still trying to gather my nerves so I could say something. I should say something, shouldn’t I? I mean, here lies an opportunity that I never thought I’d experience, and here I was, being all silly about it. Finally, when he had at last finished slowly rubbing the rag against my skin, and seemed to be about to separate himself from me, I sprung into action, pulling him to me again by his forearms.

“I-I am,” that’s all I managed to say, immediately cringing at my own lack of social skills. “Single, I mean.” Very smooth. Well done, Y/N. But despite my stupidity, it seemed that I was able to achieve my intention, since my sentence made Tom finally get rid of the rag and hold my face between both of his hands now, his thumbs softly running over my cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” He breathed out against my skin, our lips inches away from one another, and I shivered against my best wishes. That reaction caused a predatory smirk to appear on his face, and I knew then and there that I was in way over my head. “Good to know,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine, forcing me to accept his tongue, eating me whole.

He tasted like peppermint and coffee and I was already addicted to his taste, hoping to God I tasted as great to him as he did to me. At least, he didn’t complain. In fact, by the way he sucked on my tongue, forcing his deep inside my mouth, I’d go as far as to say that he did like what he tasted.

Before long, he had pulled me up on the counter, his hands holding me by my waist as his lips ventured from my mouth to my jaw, until they found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and hold his shirt tightly, and then he was sucking, rolling his tongue on the spot where I could already feel a bruise forming, before his teeth carved their own impressions on my skin, imprinting himself on me.

My head swirled with the force of the emotions bursting through me. My legs wrapped themselves around his strong body, and I was happy that my hands knew what to do when my mind hadn’t still managed to catch up to this turn of events. When his tongue came out to lick right over my collarbones, the response gasp he elicited from me came out sounding much more like a sob than anything else.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” He teased me, still otherwise occupied with marking my skin as his. “I’ve barely even started and here you are…” His hands ran through the expanse of my body, like he was showing his proof to an audience. “... a mess already.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was somehow dripping already. I could feel it, dripping from inside of me, slowly ruining the panties I was wearing. They were so not appropriate for the activities I was currently partaking in, but how the hell would I have known this was going to happen?

All I knew was that Tom had lit the fire inside of me, and now the flames were threatening to swallow us both.

Tom’s P.O.V.

She was just too cute, so out of breath and trembling with desire with the little I’d done to tease her. It just made me want to ruin her even more. My little neighbor, so perfect and sweet, so needy for me.

She didn’t even realize she had started to grind herself against me, in search of some sort of release. Well, I wasn’t about to cut her off. Unstead, I took advantage of my grip on her, pulling her body until I was the one keeping her up, trapped between my body and the counter.

“Rub your tiny wet cut against my jeans, love,” I ordered in a demanding whisper right on her ear, making her shiver. She obeyed without any sort of hesitation, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes with her eyes glazed over with lust. “That’s it…” Fuck if the pressure wasn’t exactly what I needed to help ease up some of the tension from the need I was feeling in my veins. “Rub yourself against my hard cock, don’t be shy.”

My words seemed to be gasoline for her, giving her the push she needed to grind herself even harder against my bulge. I decided to help her, pushing her more firmly against the counter and following the movements, rejoicing in the pleasure gasp that escaped her lips as the added pressure provided more friction to her clit.

“Fuck…” She whispered, and I think that in the entirety of the four months of conversations I’d entertained with her, that was the first time I’d heard her cuss. The four letter word I was so familiarized with had a new, unexpected effect on me, making the situation inside my pants so difficult I had to stop my movements and slow hers down by her hips, so I wouldn’t just jizz on my pants like a fucking teenager.

But Y/N didn’t stop, despite accepting my silent request to decrease the fervor of our activities. When I finally managed to get control over myself again, I realized why. She had gripped the counter behind her and was using it to better control her movements, and it was clear by the way her head hung back and her mouth fell open that she was about to cum just like that.

“Shit,” I cussed just as the realization hit, and it felt like all of the control I’d managed to build in the last few seconds I closed my eyes had suddenly escaped through the window. My cock was painfully hard again, and all I could think of was that I needed to get out of these fucking jeans.

Who could blame me, though? When she looked like that, creaming her panties with her clothes still on? Shit, I couldn’t wait to get her naked and underneath me. I needed to feel her from the inside, explore her wetness with my hard cock.

But first, I was desperate to get a taste of her. So as soon as her breathing came back to a somewhat regular pattern, I was careful to put her on the ground again, making sure she was able to stand on her own legs, before dropping to my knees in front of her.

“What are you… Oh.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at the innocence of her mind that stopped her from immediately understanding what I intended to do, but then I was pushing her skirt up and away from my view and her panties were in front of me and they were drenched, absolutely ruined by the sticky liquid that made my mouth water.

“Fuck, princess…” I moaned as I carefully peeled the cotton fabric down her legs, keeping it pooled around her ankles as I pushed her legs open as far as they could go. She was dripping, a single line of her wetness connecting both of her thighs, making me groan at the sight. “You might just kill me…” I commented before reaching up to pull her to me, effectively burying my face on her.

“T-Tom!” The sound of my name escaping her lips with that reverent tone left me even hungrier for her, as did her exquisite taste. It painted my tongue with its sweetness, embedding itself in my cells, making sure I’d never be able to forget it. I already knew I’d be hungry for her again the second I pulled away from her cunt.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to stop for a moment to gather my senses, as her taste made it harder and harder to control my need to relieve my aching member. I needed to be inside of her, and quickly.

Abruptly rising up to my full height, I picked her up by the back of her thighs so she’d wrap her legs around me and took us to where I’d assumed her bedroom would be, considering I was familiarized with the general layout of the apartments. The second I laid her on the bed, my hands were struggling with my own belt, as I watched her pull her dress over her head, now completely bare before me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” When my pants dropped to the floor and my cock slapped my lower stomach, I pounced on her immediately, crawling on the space between her legs and pulled her by the back of her neck to connect our lips once more. “Do you want to be railed tonight, pretty neighbor?”

She fucking whimpered in response, repetitions of “yes” and “please” escaping her lips as she tried to pull me closer to her by the legs she embraced me with. Not having it in me to stop this moment any longer, I gripped my member with one of my hands while I held her hips down with the other, briefly rubbing the blunt head of my cock over her sensitive clit before pushing myself completely inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, blindsided by the tightness, wetness and warmness that now surrounded me. “I knew your cunt would be fucking delicious.” I watched her as I pulled out until just my tip was inside of her, only to push it back in as forcefully as I could.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands flew up to hold my shoulders, almost as if she wanted to push me away or tell me to take it easy, but as her legs continued to pull me even deeper inside, I knew what she really needed was to be properly fucked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Tom was not exaggerating; he really did pound me against my mattress, immediately setting up the most brutal of paces. It hurt, especially with how much he was stretching me, but it felt too fucking good to complain about it.

The only thing I could do was to relax and accept this invasion, this possession of my body by my next-door neighbor. I knew I must have been quite a vision, my arms thrown up in search of something to hold on to, spit escaping the corner of my lips by the intensity of the thrusts, my breasts shaking as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts by my hips. I hoped I’d have some bruises on the shape of his fingertips to remember this night.

Not like I would ever be able to forget, anyway. Only a lunatic would expel the visions of Tom looking like this while fucking them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sweat gathering over his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss it away. I wanted to taste its saltiness.

Just as my head began to twirl in time with the growth of arousal in my lower belly, Tom’s eyes travelled upwards from the point where his cock was buried inside of me to find my breasts, one of his hands immediately following suit. When his pull on my nipple was accompanied by the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing the other one, I screamed as I came all around him, my head thrown back and eyes closed as I relished in the feeling of being so perfectly filled, so perfectly touched.

“Fuckin’ tight.” Tom fucked me through my orgasm, but at the sight of my eyes blinking back open, he pulled out, easily manhandling me into turning around and rising on all fours. “This fucking ass… Do you have any idea how long I dreamt about fucking you like this?”

I didn’t know how, but his words and the way his huge hands sprawled over the cheeks of my butt reignited the flames that had just been fed, and I found myself pushing back against him, offering myself up to him. Anything to get his cock inside of me again.

“Please…” I all but begged, and I heard his breath hitching behind me. “Just… please keep fucking me.” Perhaps that was all that he needed, because in a second his cock was tearing me open again, so fucking deep that I could feel it in my stomach.

“Fuck… If I had known how it would look to have my little perfect neighbor begging for my cock, I would have fucked you ages ago.” Every single thing that came out of that man’s mouth was like sin. He wrapped my hair around his fist, suddenly using it to pull me back to him as he raised one of his legs to the mattress, the new angle making each of his thrusts hit that spot inside of me that made everything just a little more satisfying.

I could feel tears running down my cheeks, falling on my spread out hands as I struggled to keep breathing through his assault on my senses. “Are you gonna cum again, love?” I could hear him asking, and I wanted to answer, I really did, but every time I opened my mouth, only sobs came out. “Are you? Here, let me help you out.”

The feeling of his rough fingers softly caressing my clit was such a stark contrast to the way he was still brutally pounding into me that instead of trying to push him away from my much too sensitive lower region, I opened my eyes in surprise as another orgasm took over me, somehow even stronger than the previous ones.

“Yeah, that’s it… Fuck. Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel your cunt milking my fucking cock.” His words did nothing to help ease my arousal, and just when my arms started to give out, I felt him spilling inside of me. “FUCK!” He shouted, following my body’s motions until he was covering me with his own torso, still very much inside of me.

His thrusts finally coming to a stop after he had slowly fucked his cum inside of me, I felt his thumbs caressing my hips as I remained face planted on my mattress. “Well, this isn’t how I expected this night to go, but I can’t say I’m not satisfied.”

A snort was all I could give him as he finally pulled out and allowed his body to fall by my side, giving me a quick kiss on the shoulder that was closer to him. “You ok?” He asked, and I snorted again.

“More than okay. You still haven’t eaten though.” It was the truth. After all of this… incredible distraction from my cooking plans, he still hadn’t gotten around to eat dinner. I heard him take a deep breath next to me as he pondered his answer.

“Really? ‘Cause I remember eating some very delicious pussy a few minutes ago.” It took me a few minutes to process what he had said, but when I did, I turned around to playfully hit his chest while feeling my face warm up from the reality of what we had just done.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re hot.” And when he put it in such simple terms, as he pulled me in his arms so that I could cuddle his chest, how could I feel embarrassed?

#tom hardy #smut #tom hardy smut #my fics #tom hardy reader #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fics #tom hardy one shot #tom hardy oneshots #tom hardy fic #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy y/n #tom hardy writing #tom hardy imagine

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Dabi x villain!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, non-con, stalking, mentions of human experimentation, non-consensual drug use, lots of swearing.

Words: 1841.

Summary: Running away from the lab where you had been experimented on for years, you have no choice but to join the League of Villains to escape from the government. Of course, you don’t expect things to go smoothly, especially when one mutilated son of a bitch just can’t leave you alone.

P.S. I’ve suddenly remembered Rogue who had been my favorite character once; the heroine’s Quirk is partly based on her ability.

My dear @navegandoaciegas, this is my first attempt at writing Dabi. Hope you’re going to enjoy reading it ❤

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"Fuck, how much can you drink at once, birdie? Ain't you scared to pass out in a place full of men?"

Oh God, it was that smug bastard again. For the past couple of days Dabi couldn't get off your back for a full damn minute.

"Men? Here?" You opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow at the man whose face was right above yours as he leaned on the back of the couch where you laid. "I see just a couple of kids and one burnt corpse who can never fucking shut up."

"Oh? Wanna see how well can a burnt corpse fuck you up?"

Always up to a challenge. You rolled your eyes at his obvious display of hostility despite the fact he'd most definitely lose against you. Besides, Shigaraki would barely enjoy you two ruining the League's hideout, and upsetting that asshole ready to go berserk any moment certainly wasn't one of your priorities.

"Just go fuck yourself, would you? I'm not in the mood to bark at you."

"Well, then don't. I didn’t come here for that, actually."

This was something new. He suddenly became calm as you studied his grotesque mutilated face inches away from yours. Your expression didn’t betray any emotions either since you weren't shocked or disgusted by the way Dabi looked: you've seen worse in the laboratory, and repulsive things had long stopped looking repulsive to you.

"What are you here for, then?" You asked him, trying to remember if you finished that second bottle of sake or not. Since the time you accidentally got one of those useless Quirks, you couldn't get drunk anymore - now strong alcohol only made you sleepy.

"I've always wanted to ask why the fuck are you wearing these." Dabi pointed out to the black leather gloves laying on the coffee table in front of you, and you rolled your eyes again. One more useless question.

"In this team of no-brainers you're the last person I expected to ask me this question." Groaning, you moved up a little to take more comfortable position and stared at the man above you intensely.

"Don't you want to gather as many Quirks as possible? If so, why wearing gloves when you can only get a Quirk through touch?"

You were close to snapping at him, and it certainly made Dabi look even more smug.

"Who the fuck do you think I am, a garbage bin?" You barked wishing you could teleport the bastard somewhere to Hawaii. "I only take Quirks I need, and it isn't easy to find those in that damp of useless abilities regular citizens have. Besides, some Quirks are quite dangerous for their owners and I'd prefer them not existing at all. You, of all people, should already get that, Pretty Face."

He smiled at you, but you saw his hollow eyes sparkling dangerously at your last remark, and you felt his body emanating heat he could turn into his famous blue flames within a second. Nasty shit, that what's you thought of his Quirk. Who on Earth would want anything like that? You doubted anyone but a true psychopath could really appreciate something as fucked up as Dabi's ability to burn anything and anyone, himself including. You definitely didn't want to use his Quirk despite already taking it as almost all of those belonging to the League of Villains. It wasn't intentional, though.

"You'd better start watching your mouth, birdie. You ain't back in the lab." His smile grew wider as he saw your expression darkening at the mention of the lab.

Fucking son of a bitch. You bet he'd go insane during the first month being locked up there.

"Huh, calm down, dear. I think it's better we get along."

You sent him a glare wishing you could throw his overconfident ass out of the window. Dabi loved messing with fucking everyone, Shigaraki included, but he was still a valuable member of the team. Killing him would do you no good.

Showing him your middle finger, you put your head on the pillow and took the half-empty bottle of sake. Thank goodness you didn't finish it. You hoped Dabi would vanish by the time you were done.

You spent a few minutes in complete silence as the man kept leaning on the couch and watching you drinking while you did your best trying to relax. Why the Hell was Dabi stuck here with you? Didn't he have any other things he should be doing now? Was he here to get under your skin even more? Shit, you just wanted to be left alone. You wanted it since the time they brought you to the lab, but since then somebody had always been getting on your nerves one way or the other.

"Seriously, what do you want from me?" You grunted as you opened your eyes again and stared at Dabi's face. "You wanna take the couch or what? I ran out of sake if you're here for it."

There was that smug smile again. Saints, the guy had been creeping you out with his long intense stares for quite some time, but today he was even less bearable than usual. He definitely wanted something from you, and the feeling was making you uneasy.

"You wanna hook up, birdie?"

You thought you were gonna choke on air when you heard him saying that. What? Seriously? Did he hurt his head so bad last time heroes attacked? So, that was the meaning of those stares, then? He thought you were the one he could stick his dick in. Wincing from the thought like from a toothache, you squeezed your eyes shut. The guy was clearly mad.

"Are you out of your mind? Why would I want to hook up with anyone?" You huffed with irritation and realized Dabi was having way more fun than you.

"Don't tell me you're actually a virgin."

"You think I can be a virgin with the life I'm having?" You sounded more bitter than you thought you would, and the man above you chuckled. He was getting on your nerves more and more with each passing second.

"Then why not? Sex is a good way to relax. You certainly seem like you could let off some steam." You flinched when Dabi extended his hand to you, but he had only brushed of a lock of your hair out of your face. "I bet I can help you with that better than most of the team."

"Sex is painful, and I don't like pain. Go have fun with Toga, she seems more into that than me." You narrowed your eyes at him, your hand almost touching his neck if the villain decided he'd go further without your consent. His stupid grin going wider was making you more and more mad.

Of course, he wouldn't go to Himiko. That asshole had his own type, and she certainly didn't fall into that category. Why did you? You had no idea, but you doubted he would ever lay his hands on you. Yeah, you knew what sex was, and it had nothing to do with pleasure like in those stupid romantic novels you once bought. It was humiliating and painful. If you had a chance to get back to those who did it to you back in the lab, you'd rip their hearts out of their rib cages.

The expression on your face didn't seem to faze Dabi even the slightest bit, and you rolled your eyes in irritation. Apparently, he wouldn't give up unless you showed him you weren't some doll he could play with, and Shigaraki was probably going to get real mad at the both of you this evening.

All of a sudden you felt some strange tickling in your muscles you had never felt before. What was that? Confused, you quickly glanced over the room to see no one except Dabi still on his spot. What was that? Was it some hero's work? Had they found your hideout? No, it couldn’t be. You'd hear them, feel them before somebody even set their foot on your territory. It wasn't a hero.

Unwilling to wait for any surprises to happen, you used a regeneration Quirk, the one you were gifted on your 14th birthday so you could heal yourself after they ran the tests without troubling a healer too much. Strangely, the Quirk did nothing about the tickling, and you felt your legs getting weaker. What the fuck was that?

As you raised your head to ask Dabi for help, you suddenly realized he was eager to see what you were doing. He looked like he enjoyed watching you in such state, confused and even frightened, your knees slightly trembling as if you became weak within a couple of seconds.

It was him. He did something to you. The bastard had the nerve to do something to your body so it'd be easier to handle you.

"What have you done?" You hissed at him while he chuckled, pointing at the bottles of sake on the table. "Have you poisoned my drink?"

But the regeneration would work in that case. You knew for sure.

Running his finger around the shell of your ear, Dabi hummed with content, "Poisoned? Come on, who do you think I am, an Evil Queen? That's just a little handy potion that has a tendency to slowly accumulate in your body. Makes you a little softer, don't you think?"

Oh. Oh. That's why he was always watching you. He had no idea when the effects would start to show. Did he fucking realize it could happen in the heat of the battle when you needed your Quirks the most? Did Dabi have any idea what would happen if heroes managed to lock you away again?

"Seems like you planned to abandon me if heroes attacked, didn't you?" You gritted your teeth when Dabi got on top of you, his hands on your chest as he caressed your body like a lover would, his hot fingers getting under your clothes.

"Of course not. I'd play your personal hero and save your stubborn ass the trouble of murdering everyone."

While you desperately wanted to kick him off you came to realization you weren't able to even stand up, your arms and legs so weak you could barely move while Dabi had no problems stripping you out of your clothes, his hands on the your thighs as he took off your pants.

Shit, shit, shit. You couldn’t use any Quirks to hurt him, all of them barely responding to your call. What was that potion? Why nobody in the lab prepared you for this? How on Earth did that shithead obtain such a dangerous thing?

"If you hurt me, I'll rip your brain out of your skull and bring it to Shigaraki as a present."

His chapped, disfigured lips brushed against your neck almost gently when the man murmured, "It doesn't have to be painful, birdie. I'll show you how much fun we can have together."

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Tags: @coolio-love @awesomerextyphoon

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi bnha #bnha #mha #yandere

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scripttorture · 3 years

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Regarding ICURE, I have a character who is familiar with the process and a deep understanding of most of the mindsets and mental states involved in torture, interrogation, and captivity. Would that make resistance to the techniques easier? How would a willingness to engage and empathize with captors, combined with an awareness of their goals and methods and a greater than average degree of self-awareness and self confidence interact?

I’m mostly working without studies here extrapolating based on what I know.

The only bit of this I can definitively answer is that knowledge of what torture does wouldn’t effect the high innate resistance we have to it. Resistance to torture is bound up in so many fundamental systems, like how our nerves physically register pain, that conscious knowledge wouldn’t make much difference to the outcome.

It might make the character feel better or more confident though: ‘There’s no way you can force this information out of me’. It might also make the recovery process a little easier if the character is tortured. Knowledge about mental illness and how they’re treated can help people identify what they’re going through and process it more quickly. It can also make it easier to seek help.

For those who are new to the blog ICURE is a combination of techniques that can be used to change someone’s beliefs over time. As with everything there is not a 100% success rate but unlike torture consistently applied ICURE can lead to a controlled change in the target’s belief system.

It stands for Isolate, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotional responses.

A group of characters attempting to use ICURE would isolate the target from other characters, ensure that the information/news the target gets lines up with what the group believes. They’d then attempt to create uncertainty about previously held core beliefs and respond in an overblown emotional fashion if the target attempts to challenge their own beliefs. Repetition of this, consistently over a prolonged period (months or years) can (but does not always) lead to change in core beliefs.

For an example let’s imagine a story applying this to Bucky Barnes from the Marvel series.

A group holding him might try to create uncertainty by underlining how long he’s been held and how his friends haven’t attempted to rescue him. They might give him news that his best friend has another group of heroes he works with now. Bucky has been abandoned, forgotten. And so forth.

An emotive response in this scenario could be something like the primary care giver of the group (the person who most regularly interacts with Bucky, giving him food and trying to interact positively) flying off the handle when Bucky mentions his old friends. How can he be so ungrateful? Doesn’t he realise what the caregiver has risked and sacrificed to keep Bucky safe? Does he think persuading the group to ‘help’ Bucky and keep him alive was easy?

You get the idea.

My instinct is that knowledge of these techniques would make them less effective. These things are never 100% successful and I think consciously acknowledging the manipulative nature of ICURE would make it harder for the captors to achieve total success.

However a lot of the reason these techniques work is because humans are social animals. We need interaction with other members of the species in order to remain healthy. And as a result we often change and adapt in order to fit in with new groups. We are geared to compromise in order to gain or maintain positive social contact.

I am not a psychologist or psychiatrist but I do know that there a lot of research papers which suggest personal opinions can gradually change over time when we’re surrounded by people with differing views in non-coercive settings.

This does not necessarily mean full conversion to another set of ideals. The impression I get is that it mostly looks like a series of small and subtle changes.

For the sake of avoiding internet insanity let’s make up an issue. Let’s make up a character who grew up in an area where no one wears red and the colour has a lot of negative associations.

This character moves to a different area where the colour has different connotations and wearing red is a neutral act. Over a period of years the character’s attitudes towards the colour might mellow. They might never wear red themselves. They might not decorate with the colour. But they’ve met a fair few people who occasionally wear red now and they’re decent people. They don’t judge people who wear red the way they did when they first moved in to the area.

What I’m trying to illustrate here is that it’s normal for people’s views to shift over time. Obviously this does not always happen. People can hold extreme or vastly differing views when compared to their community.

From a certain point of view my views are extreme. Most cultures in our global society accept and legitimise violence to differing degrees. Pacifism is the absolute rejection of violence*. If you take a moment to think about how often violence permeates all aspects of our lives (from child care to religion to politics) you’ll see what I mean.

What I’m trying to illustrate here is that while we do adjust and change to fit in with the people surrounding us we can also cling to things that are very much against the norm. And that makes it difficult to answer any of these questions with certainty. There is a lot of individual variation.

A lot of the techniques to resist effective interrogation are essentially a refusal to interact. But the longer someone’s held outside their community the less viable that is as an option. We can choose to do things that are harmful to us (including avoiding needed social contact) but it’s hard. Because it’s unhealthy.

I think the way I’d approach this as a writer is to start by identifying the core values of this character, the things that are most important to them. Try to think of things the character absolutely could not compromise without becoming a different character.

Circling back to the example of Bucky Barnes, a core value might be his relationship with Steve Rogers, his oldest friend.

Once you have an idea of the core values think of the next most important value. And keep going.

I tend to do this pretty instinctively. For me it’s a part of my messy, sprawling character creation. If you need to take a more visual or organised approach to figuring things out then a list (with the most important values at the top) or a circle (with the most important values in the middle) might be helpful.

Next think through the same process for the group that has captured the character. Since it’s a group rather then an individual it should be simpler. (Because a group is unlikely to be as nuanced and complicated as an individual.)

See if there’s any overlap which might be grounds for grudging mutual respect. Values like loyalty to your own group and taking care of the people on your side are good things to use for this.

I would then look at the more peripheral values the character has and shift some of them a little over time.

Keeping Bucky as our example I might put something like ‘American cultural values’ as a more peripheral value. Bucky seems to prize the culture he was raised in and consider it the norm. But it’s not something he bases his personality on or something that motivates him through the stories. So shifting that, having him not see it as the ‘norm’ any more, or adopting things his captors did would be a good way to show that he has been influenced.

Obviously the right choice, the right value to shift, depends on the characters and the story you want to tell. The degree to which you want to shift the character’s values is also up to you.

Bigger shifts, or more obvious shifts, could serve to cause conflict later in the story. This could lead the character to feel rejected, like their loyalty is being questioned after everything they went through.

Bigger shifts could also serve a practical purpose in the story though. If this character has gained a greater understanding for the group they’re opposed to that could make them a much more effective interrogator. They might know how to establish rapport more quickly and earn the trust of captured prisoners. Which could in turn lead to more accurate information.

Greater understanding of the group they’re opposed to could also help with strategic thinking/planning.

Smaller shifts add less elements to the story. But that could be a good thing too depending on your story. If you don’t have a lot of time or space to explore new conflicts or skills then this approach would save you narrative space while still showing the character has been effected.

It would also work if the point here is to show the character as mostly unmoved, unchanged, despite coercive external pressure.

I hope that helps :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*In case anyone’s interested I personally define violence as harmful acts done without consent.

#pinctada1798 #writing advice #tw torture #manipulation #ICURE #effective interrogation #isolation #social pressure #social interaction #shifting views #prison #interrogation #character development

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ducktracy · 3 years

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The bread post about Daffy’s characterization is really interesting. That undercurrent of bitterness could serve as bridge for Screwball Daffy and the dreaded Greedy Daffy. I feel a Unifying Daffy Theory is hard to pin down because of his wide array of characterization, but a sliding scale of “hoo-hoo” vs “you think you’re better than me?!” might be part of the key?

*cracks my knuckles so hard they break* asking about daffy’s characterization is the worst thing you can do to me because i can, will, and HAVE blabbed about him for hours. LET’S SEE HERE

daffy is genuinely one of the most varied characters in animation history. not even talking about the slide from totally crazy to egomaniac--he changes every short. there are certainly eras that can be used as blankets: crazy daffy of the ‘30s, passionate daffy of the ‘40s, egomaniac of the ‘50s, bitter bastard of the ‘60s, etc, but even then, the daffy in a 1944 frank tashlin cartoon will vary wildly from the daffy in a 1944 chuck jones cartoon.

you’re absolutely right, he IS hard to pin down. he’s constantly moving and changing, and not just physically either. he’s constantly contradicting himself. maybe not on a large or noticeable scale, but enough to make me say “hey, daffy often tries to make friends with his enemies as we see here, but here he DOESN’T. these cartoons are directed by the same director and are only 2 years apart. what gives?” or “daffy is the only character who doesn’t break the fourth wall consistently as the punchline. oop, hold that thought, he just did it here as a joke. so inconsistent.”

i’m being incredibly vague right now trying to answer this because i’ve spent so much time trying to dissect him and write about him that my brain doesn’t know where to start with this ask. it gives me too much joy. so SORRY FOR GOING IN CIRCLES i have a lot i want to say but don’t know how to articulate it.

i think, yeah, in the grand scheme of things, a sliding scale is the easiest way to go, but is frustrating at the same time because he contradicts himself so much. daffy was relatively sane as early as... hm, 1941-1942, and started calming down as early as 1938. he still whoops and hollers and bounces on his head, and would do so as far into the ‘60s cartoons, but he can very clearly think and act for himself and is at least aware of his role as a performer, but “screwball daffy” rolls off the tongue much easier than “passionate daffy who feels all of his emotions at once and is incredibly emotional rather than fully insane but he’s still a bit crazy at the same time”. he’s such a hard character to pin down because he has so many layers.

even in his screwball/passionate/whatever-you-wanna-call-em-days, he has a tendency to be bitter, even if he’s just playing around. like, for example here, he’s definitely putting up an act, but for a guy who rarely ever causes porky real harm and withstands all of his blows, even in moments where he SHOULD, mocking his stutter like that (which isn’t as often of an occurrence as one may think) is pretty cold. or you have this, with daffy ranting and raving about his integrity (or lack thereof) and instantly dropping everything to gleefully remark that the hotel manager looks like a dick tracy character. he’s so wildly inconsistent.

back in october, i challenged myself to delve into daffy’s character and dissect as much as i could to educate myself and others, and it was difficult because of how contradictory of a character he is! here’s some random blurbs that assert that.

now i’m just slapping a ton of screenshots on here for the sake of doing so, but you get the gist. i’ve done my research LOL.

he’s just so HARD to mark down because he’s constantly changing and acting a certain way. yeah, he has overarching themes, but he constantly makes and breaks his own rules and it’s hard to judge. but, at the same time, i like how this lack of being defined makes him feel more humane and less of a stock character... which is saying something since he pioneered the whole genre of wacky cartoon characters.

i seriously could talk about this for hours but i know i’ve already derailed enough and got off track, but i agree with you SO much. daffy is such an interesting case and as frustrating as it is that he seems to be constantly at odds with himself, it makes him that much more interesting

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marauders-venting · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Moony

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warning: i don’t think there are any but if anybody sees something i should add please let me know

words: 2288

summary: it’s Remus’ birthday and his friends throw him a party. it’s not big or chaotic, just his close friends. Remus prefers it that way. but despite how much he has been enjoying this day, he can’t stop thinking about Sirius, pining for him. but Remus is determined not to let those feelings get in the way.

a/n: this is the first oneshot i’ve written. it’s definitely not my best piece of work and i’m not sure how much i like it. but i was determined to post something for remus’ birthday so here it is. i hope some people enjoy it (although i don’t really have any followers so i don’t know who i expect to see this but if you do read it, i’m open to any comments/tips/criticism from anybody but please be nice)(also i hope i did the tags right)

Remus was watching Sirius. He couldn’t help it. It was his birthday after all. He should be allowed to watch whomever he wanted to. He stared at the line of Sirius’ jaw, the curve of his lips, the sparkle in his blue-grey eyes, the flush in his cheeks as he took another sip of alcohol. Remus watched Sirius, he noticed these things, but he was constantly reminding himself that Sirius was not his to watch.

He had had a good day, really he had. His friends had decorated their dorm with balloons and banners for his birthday, they had showered him with birthday wishes and gifts, they threw him a party but not something big and loud; it was just Remus’ friends, the other three marauders and Lily, Mary, Marlene, Dorcas and Alice. Remus preferred it that way, smaller, fewer people. But the size didn’t make the celebration any less of a party. There was music being played, dances being dances, songs being sung, games being played, alcohol being drunk. Remus was happy. But if he was happy, why couldn’t he stop thinking about his unrequited crush for one second?

Peter had brought a cake from the kitchens. Nobody knew how he managed to get it but nobody was questioning or complaining about his methods. There were sixteen candles on the cake.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” Alice said as Remus blew out the candles. Remus didn’t make a wish. He didn’t believe in making wishes. When he was younger, he used to wish for the same thing every birthday: that his lycanthropy would go away. But the years passed and Remus’ wish never came true, so Remus stopped making wishes altogether. It was easier to just not hope for anything. But if Remus was given a single wish right now, he’d wish for Sirius, that Sirius would love him in the same way that he loved Sirius. And every moment that Remus spent staring at Sirius made it more and more difficult to accept that he’d never get his wish.

So Remus tries to refocus his attention on the conversation.

“James, pass me a beer,” Marlene said, holding out her hand. James tosses her a beer and she tries to catch it but doesn’t even come close. She picks it up off the floor, magicks the cap off and takes a sip.

“Marlene, did you just miss a catch?” Lily asks, her shock dramatically exaggerated.

“I did not,” Marlene insists, her arms crossed.

“How drunk are you, Marlene?” Remus asks, smirking.

“Better be careful, Marly,” Dorcas says. “If you drop the Quaffle like that at next week's match, James will kick you off the team.”

“Hey, I am not that mean,” James protests. “I wouldn’t kick her off the team.” Dorcas snorts.

“No, no he’s right,” Peter says, seriously. “He wouldn’t kick Marlene off the team, he’d have her head. And then he wouldn’t need to kick her off the team because headless people can’t play Quidditch.”

“You guys are being ridiculous; I’m not that bad,” James says defensively. “I just… really like winning. So I get a little bit strict.”

“Yeah, ok,” Sirius snorts. Then he goes into full story-telling mode. “It was our third year. We lost the match to Ravenclaw because that one kid, Dawson, tried to hit the Bludger at Ravenclaw’s seeker but missed and they caught the snitch. Afterwards, James, you come up to me and say, and I quote, ‘Dawson should be kicked off the team.’ And I was like, ‘ok mate, don’t you think that’s kind of harsh?’ And you just shrugged and said, ‘it’s what I would do if I were the captain’. Just cause he messed up! One time! So yeah, you are that bad, Prongsie.”

“Wha— how do you even remember— oh you know what, fuck all of you,” James grumbles.

“Don’t worry, we all still love you,” Sirius adds, reaching out his hand to ruffle James' hair. He stands up to get another slice of cake and Remus’ eyes linger on him until continuing to stare at Sirius would have meant having to turn his head 180 degrees.

“I’m bored,” Mary says. “Let’s play a game.”

“Truth or Dare,” Lily pipes up. Peter groans.

“That is literally the worst game on the planet,” he says. “And we always play it.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Lily says, glaring at him. Peter says nothing. “Didn’t think so. Truth or Dare it is. Remus, it’s your birthday so you can ask first.”

“Ok,” Remus says. “Alice, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Fuck, I thought you’d say Dare. Damn it, I don’t have any good Truths for you.”

“Oh, oh, I have one,” Dorcas says. She leans towards Remus and whispers the Truth in his ear.

“Fine,” Remus says. “But only because I couldn’t think of anything better. How long have you liked Frank and when exactly do you plan on asking him out?” Alice turns red and slaps Dorcas on the arm. Dorcas cackles.

“Oh come on, it was so obvious,” she says. “Now answer the question.”

“Fine. I’ve liked him for… I don’t know. A couple of weeks maybe? I’m not keeping track. And I plan on asking him out never,” Alice says. “My turn.”

“Wait, what? Why won’t you ask him out?” Sirius’ voice comes from right behind Remus, making him jump. “Sorry Moony,” Sirius adds, putting his hand on Remus’ shoulder, steadying him. Remus still feels the touch even after Sirius removes his hand. He tries to shake it off.

“Pads, have you ever met Alice?” Remus says, turning around to face him. “When was the last time she asked out a guy?” Alice was pointing at Remus, indicating that he was exactly right.

“But why not?” Sirius asked.

“Because,” Alice said. “I don’t know. It’s too nerve-wracking. If he likes me, then he’ll ask me out. And if not then I’ll just move on, I guess?”

“Or you could just ask him out yourself,” Mary chimed in.

“Or not,” Alice says. “It’s my turn now, so shush. Dorcas—” Alice turns to face her, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” Dorcas says.

“I dare you to stand up on the bench at breakfast tomorrow, cast Sonorus on yourself and start singing a Muggle song.”

“Challenge accepted,” Dorcas says. “But I don’t know any Muggle songs so one of you is going to have to find me one.”

“I have one for you,” Mary says. “Dancing Queen by ABBA.”

“Oooooo yes,” Lily says, nodding in agreement.

“Teach it to me then,” Dorcas says.

“I can play it now.” Mary taps the record player sitting in the corner of the common room with her wand and the song starts playing. The girls stand up and start dancing and James joins in before long. Remus waits for Sirius to do the same, given that Sirius never misses the opportunity to show off his dancing skills. But he doesn’t.

“Remus,” Sirius’ voice whispers from behind him. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks, still keeping his voice down

“Sure.” Sirius takes Remus by the arm and pulls him towards the stairs of the dormitories. The others are too caught up in the singing and the dancing to notice them leaving. The touch of Sirius’ hand on Remus’ bare arm is enough to make Remus dizzy. It burns and Remus craves more. He wants more than arms touching, more than accidental bumps of the hand.

“I wanted to give you your birthday present,” Sirius says, after closing the dormitory door. He hands Remus a beautifully wrapped package. Remus slowly opens the wrapping paper, careful not to tear any of it. Inside is a book. A book that Remus had been talking about non-stop for the past five months. It was by his favourite Muggle author and had been published just two days ago.

“Sirius,” Remus says, turning over the book in his hand, “how did you even get this?” Sirius shrugs.

“On Wednesday I snuck into Hogsmeade, took that Muggle thing that you taught me how to ride—”

“A bus?”

“Yes, that thing. I found the nearest bookshop and waited with a crowd of people until they finally opened and, y’know, shoved people out of the way so I could get a copy before they ran out. Mind you, I’m pretty sure I nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy when I paid for it. I've got no clue how to use Muggle money. I’m pretty sure the guy at the cash register thought I was insane.”

“Sirius,” Remus says again, “this is just… incredible. Absolutely incredible. You are incredible. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Sirius says shrugging. “But I wanted to. You deserve it, Remus. Also, this was the only way to get you to shut up about that goddamn book.” Remus laughs.

“If you think that I’m going to shut up about it now that I actually have it you are sorely mistaken,” Remus says and now it’s Sirius’ turn to laugh. Remus catches himself staring at the way Sirius’ mouth looks when he laughs. The way the edges of his lips curve up into a smile before they part, revealing white teeth; the way Sirius’ grey eyes light up, the smile in his eyes just as telling as the smile in his mouth; the way the happy, bubbly sound of Sirius’ laughter makes Remus’ glow inside.

Remus looks away, his face flushed. He shouldn’t be thinking like this.

“I have one more present for you,” Sirius starts, and Remus can hear his voice shake ever so slightly, “But only if… only if you want it.” Remus is facing Sirius but his head is tilted towards the ground. He can’t quite meet Sirius’ eye.

“Pads, you’ve given me more than enough…”

“Shhh,” Sirius says, and he places a finger on Remus’ lips to silence him. It works. Remus has been effectively shocked into silence. He feels frozen like he couldn’t say another word even if he wanted to.

“Remus,” Sirius whispers. “Look at me.” He tilts Remus’ chin so Remus has no chance but to look Sirius in the eyes. “Look at me.” And then, without warning, without a second’s hesitation, Sirius kisses him. And Remus freezes on the spot. For a moment, Sirius has very literally taken his breath away. But as soon as Sirius’ thumb brushes his cheek, Remus feels himself relaxing. And it feels familiar even though it’s new. It feels so right. But just as Remus’ is getting used to the feeling of Sirius’ lips on his, Sirius pulls away almost as quickly as he came in. Remus feels frozen again. Like he can’t move a single muscle in his body. But inside this frosty exterior, a fire is raging, wanting more. More of Sirius’ burning touch that fuels the flames, more of his lips that melt the world as they connect with Remus’. More of Sirius. His disappointment at the abrupt end of the kiss must show on his face. But Sirius completely misinterprets it.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says, backing away from Remus and shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why… I’m sorry Remus. Just forget about it.” This snaps Remus out of his frozen state.

“No, no, no please don’t be sorry,” he says, begging Sirius to have meant the kiss. “Please, please don’t be sorry, Sirius.” And Remus feels like words are failing him because he can’t express how much he needs Sirius to have wanted that kiss, how much he needs the wanting that he felt in that kiss to be real for Sirius too. He can’t express it in words, but Sirius is looking at him with his penetrating grey eyes and he’s still so close. Close enough to kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” Remus asks. Sirius’ eyes meet his. He nods. So Remus does. He gives in to the fire, he gives the fire exactly what it wants. And Sirius gives him more this time too. Sirius’ hands find Remus’ neck. They travel down to his back, slowly making their way to Remus’ waist. So Remus’ hands, seemingly of their own accord, slide up into Sirius’ hair, pulling Sirius in, taking more and more. And all the while, their lips are pressed together and when Remus’ lips part in a sigh he feels his face heat but Remus barely has time for self-conscious thoughts before Sirius is slipping his tongue into Remus’ mouth, making all of the thoughts slip out of Remus’ brain; Sirius is all that remains. Sirius is all that there ever was, all that there is and all that there ever will be. And Remus is perfectly fine with that. And when they finally break apart, they’re both breathless.

“I love you, Remus,” Sirius says, his fingers grazing Remus’ cheek. “I’m in love with you.” Remus feels his breath catch (yet again) because no, this is too good to be true.

“Are you drunk?” Remus asks.

“I’m drunk enough that I had the guts to do this,” Sirius says, shrugging, “but not so drunk that you should have any reason not to believe me when I tell you that I’ve wanted this for so long. That I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asks and his voice comes as a whisper because that’s all he can muster.

“Positive.”

“I love you too,” Remus says. He takes Sirius’ hand, letting their fingers lace together and feeling a warmth spread from the tips of his fingers to the rest of his body.

“Happy birthday, Moony,” Sirius says, leaning in to kiss Remus again, granting the birthday wish that Remus had been too afraid to make.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fanfic #sirius black #moony #padfoot #remus x sirius #marauders #james potter #lily evans #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #alice longbottom

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lilallama · 3 years

Note

(Sorry if I spell something wrongly lol) Idk, This is my opinion? Gryffindor, Jungkook. Hufflepuff, Taehyung & Yoongi. Ravenclaw, Namjoon & Jin. Slytherin, Jimin & Hobi??? I literally just searched the meaning of each house and just picked one based on the personality shown. Also, If you don't think this matches them, Sorry ;-;

[Don't worry, sweetie ^^. You don't have to apologise! 💕🍑]

Hoseok is a lot more two faced than I actually tend to show. The way he presents himself is mostly a mask. While he seems mostly calm on the outside, he's actually quite the opposite on the inside. Out of all the boys it'd be easiest for him to manipulate/influence Y/n (@bangtans-apollo Tae is quacking-) and he's aware of that. That's one of the reasons why they started the club 1. To protect Y/n, 2. The club concept came because it'd be easier to meet up and they would automatically get a clubroom and 3. Hoseok threatened to tell on them if they don't join, he'd make Y/n despise each one of them.

He is a strong leader (one of the Slytherin traits), I try to make him resourceful (but I am not myself so that might not shine through too much), he is definitely cunning. The whole ordeal with wanting to be with Y/n no matter what is pretty ambitious, I'd say. And lastly the traditionalism trait, he is very into tradition and has to keep his domestic fantasies with Y/n a secret. His parents raised him very traditional, he would hate it if (female) Y/n would ask him out first or would propose first and would at first frown upon his attention to (male or non binary) Y/n.

All in all Slytherin seems very accurate.

Now concerning Jimin; similar to Hoseok he too can be a two faced snake. He doesn't hide his true thoughts from Y/n or the boys, if anything he overshares sometimes (one time he started talking to Taehyung about some... rather inappropriate things concerning Y/n. That got his Y/n privilege taken away for a whole month). And despite practically pleading to be the "dumb bimbo" stereotype, he is surprisingly clever and intelligent. Before Highschool, before he made his first experiences with popular boys, he was a straight A's and B's student. Yet once he had his first boyfriend, he discovered that the people surrounding him typically preferred the dumb blondes. (He actually broke up with the captain of the football team for Y/n.)

He also sometimes displays ambitious, just in a whiney sort of way. Self preservation is definitely something. Unlike Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon or Jeongguk, he wouldn't let himself be killed for Y/n's sake. If Y/n were to be killed he would end up deluding himself into thinking a person who looks similar to them is them and would force Y/n's personality and style on them. Cunningness is 100% accurate. He's fake. He pretends to be a silly sweetheart who loves everyone but will spread rumours about you, blame things on you etc. and everyone believes him. His cunningness concerning Y/n is more whiney than anything.

So I do think Jimin fits Slytherin.

Namjoon was raised by strict parents who forbade him a tremendous amount of things and painted his world for him. It was engraved in his head, he was going to be the CEO of their company one day. Yet despite everything he still had a head of his own. Maye it was because if his high IQ that he understood that his parents weren't the only opinion in his life. Don't get me wrong, they still left him scarred (sadly literally, as his father once hit him bloody) and traumatised but not without a mind of his own. Ever since he was small creativity and originality was something he admired and loved. It was partly reason of why he fell for Y/n, their individuality, their mind, their heart, their soul.

We will not need to discuss intelligence, it's a trait he undoubtedly has. He is always willing to learn and showed interest in many different things before Y/n captured his focus. He is most likely one of the wisest members as he is aware of how twisted his love for them truly is (once again something I tend to fail at portraying) and tried to stop it when it started. But somehow that only made everything worse and by now he doesn't care anymore at all. When he was a child he used to be more openly curious than nowadays (as it caused him many punishments from his parents).

I feel that Namjoon would fit Ravenclaw.

Seokjin was spoiled all his life. His parents adored him, other kids adored him, everyone adored him. While he might've acted oblivious he knew that it's because of his money. Similar to Jimin, Seokjin changed when he entered high school. While he always was a pretty intelligent and well behaved student (still very arrogant though) he then became less concerned with studies and once made a teacher cry (that was before he met Y/n). He loves standing out as an individual, that includes making anyone change who crosses his path with the same outfit (not in school as they wear a school uniform. But outside, yes, he has that much power. Everyone knows Kim Seokjin).

As said before, Seokjin is far from stupid. He is a very intelligent individual but doesn't show the extent of his nolage. Instead aiming for a cool "Queen B" persona. He is witty with his comebacks (something I cannot write because I do not possess that superpower), he's quick with his words. He holds respect for people who are 60+ years old as he believes they've been through a lot in life already. These people have wisdom he could only gain by experience and that he respects (there is one very sweet lady that lives alone in a very big mansion a few streets away from his penthouse. He always visits her because he loves her genuine kindness. When he met Y/n she recently passed away and he saw a part of her in them).

Seokjin could qualify for a Ravenclaw.

Taehyung was raised by a very Christian family that he still cherishes very much. Because of their intense belief he was raised to worship. He never fell in love, so when Y/n crossed paths with his, he started showing love how he's used to it (Out of all the boys Taehyung is straight up insane. Something in his brain might be wired wrong, there is no explanation on why he likes them, on why he believed that's what love is because his parents treated him with normal, familiar love. So he is simply sick, there is no "saving" him. He's better of in a mental hospital). But he was always a very kind boy. Giving instead of taking, never wanting anything in return. Out of everyone, Taehyung was the one who welcomed new students and made tons of friends. But he grew out of it as his focus turned to art. He aimed to make his parents proud so he didn't have time for friends.

His loyalty is unlike any other. You could torture him half dead and he'd still forgive you, stay loyal to you, serve you. He is Y/n's servant. He works hard on improving his artistic abilities and also to maintain fairly good grades. For Y/n any labour he'd have to be put through would seem like a blessing. Another trait for Hufflepuff would be fairness and he surely is fair. As one of the least jealous members of the club he really only cares if Y/n's okay with what's happening or could get hurt (he always kets the other members have more privileges than he has because he believes it'd be not only greedy but prideful to want Y/n to hinself. He avoids any sin when it comes to Y/n, envy, wrath, pride, sloth, nothing will ever come near his modern day Jesus).

Taehyung definitely is a Hufflepuff.

If the boy who works two parttime jobs, to pay for rent, bills and food, cleans the shabby apartment by himself because his alcoholic mother is busy messing it up again, yet still treats his mother with kindness, only to be treated like trash by seven more powerful and successful guys in his school who all like the same person he does and still manages to maintain the position as intern and honour roll student at a prestigious school for roch people, isn't in Hufflepuff then I don't know what. This poor soul is incredibly sensitive and kind. He isn't judgemental (as he himself is used to people judging him). All round very sweet.

I think it's very clear that he's very diligent and hard working. He holds great passion for music and enjoys writing poetry, a very sensitive soul. Yoongi isn't someone to complain about something being unfair (cough cough Jimin cough cough) or try and steal Y/n away from them. His day dreams consist of imagining Y/n liking him back, but he is certain that would never happen (according to you guys, it seems a lot of you would pick Yoongi if you'd get to decide). Not only is Yoongi kind but loyal as well, he'd never imagine leaving anyone behind even his useless mother.

Yoongi is 1000% a Hufflepuff.

Jeongguk tends to be hot tempered, he goes from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. Everything in life seems like a challenge to prove he's better than others think (his father was a notorious serial killer who killed twenty one people yet got away with a ten year prison sentence and got released after six, ten months later Jeongguk was born). In truth he did not care for anyone else, only Y/n. So all tge chivalry he could muster was directed at them.

He is one brave guy who doesn't get easily scared (I guess living with as well as being a serial killer at sixteen years old desensitised him). Jeongguk is courageous just not in/for a positive way/purpose. He deluted himself into thinking that Y/n needs protection, HIS protection. He once attacked a teacher because they were helping Y/n with a question, that's very daring (more like stupid) just not in a good way. A (still not) more positive example of his daringness is when he wants to impress Y/n. He hung from a skyscraper for five minutes doing pullups, just to inpress them. One time he also jumped across his luxurious pool at home (and almost slipped, almost bashing his head in) just to prove that he can jump further than someone they talked about.

I could very much picture him as a Griffendor.

If you enjoyed reading my work, please consider reblogging it. Thank you for reading

#yandere bts #cooking club #hogwarts au #yandere jimin #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #yandere namjoon #yandere hoseok #yandere seokjin #yandere yoongi #harry potter au

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naerysthelonesome · 3 years

Text

Time spent together

Part 6:

The narrator returns

Apollo and Lit are very, very close to Artemis’ place now. Apollo looks splotchy and nervous. I don’t like it. Clashes too much with his outfit. Lit, on the other hand looks cool and calm. That’s weird. Probably a façade.

Apollo finally makes a turn, and pulls into a driveway in this really nice neighborhood. I’d consider living here, if I could… live, you know? He parks the car and just sits there, like an idiot. I’m sure Lit notices because he punches Apollo lightly in the arm, and steps out. Apollo follows soon after, and Lit moves to the backseat to get his bag, but the former flaps at his arms in impatience. Boi does he not look the epitome of grace today.

Lit shoots him a look, and shoulders his bag anyway.

They both make their way to the front door of the pretty, baby blue house. It looks quaint, and cozy, and not really someplace I’d imagine Apollo’s cool sister Artemis living, but maybe she’s into the whole cottagecore thing. I wouldn’t know. I’m supposed to keep focused on Apollo and Lit.

Speaking of, Apollo is trying to look collected and nonchalant as he knocks on the door, but it’s (incredibly) clear that he isn’t. Lit inches just a little bit closer, trying to offer his support, but of course Apollo doesn’t notice. At least not at first. Then Lit’s hand brushes against his own, and, I kid you not, his eyes spark. His breath hitches in his chest, and he goes completely still. Simp.

The door bangs open to reveal a silver woman. No seriously, she’s silvery all over. Her hair and eyebrows have been dyed a most mesmerizing silvery-white, her skin glows in places (silver highlighter methinks), and all the delicate silver jewelry over the lacy, dark green tank top and gray shorts makes her look ethereal and fairylike. DAMN she is really taking the Artemis thing seriously.

“Big brother!”

“We’re twins, and you’re unoriginal”, Apollo says resignedly. Like he’s had this exact conversation before. He probably has. Artemis simply smiles.

“Aw don’t be like that!”

She turns toward Lit, who’s been standing there awkwardly, and offers him her hand. Palm facing down, snowy white fingers curled, like she expects him to kiss it.

Lit looks like he’s visibly restraining himself from turning to Apollo in bewilderment.

“Aren’t you going to take my hand?” Artemis asks, with a fake pout.

Lit reaches out and takes it, completely unsure of what to do next. He just holds it like it’s an unwanted bug someone’s placed in his hand.

“Must all your dates be so rude, Apollo?” Artemis questions, with a huff.

“Must you always act like a twat that doesn’t know what century it is, Artemis?” he replies, turning to Lit. “She’s just playing with you”.

Artemis laughs, and walks away. It’s a normal laugh, no tinkling wind chimes, or tumbling rivers. I don’t even know if that’s humanly possible. Stephanie must have been on something.

“Something tells me it’s best if I play along”, Lit says, following Apollo through the door.

“Definitely. Oh, and leave your shoes here.”

Two of the girls Artemis lives with are insanely pretty. (But then, all humans look insanely pretty to me… oh to have a physical form). And they look like polar opposites. The bigger one is wearing a flowy summer dress that perfectly complements her wheatish skin, her pink and brown hair in a neatly curled high pony, winged eyeliner on point. The other one has her orange-red hair hanging about her face, some of it still fixed in the messiest messy bun I’ve ever seen. She stays seated on the sofa, in her dull grey sweats, and simply turns to wave at the boys when they walk in, eyes still on the tv.

“Hi! I’m Arson”, says they pink-haired one, “And that’s Claire. She’s normally the active one, but it’s shark week so she’ll just lie there like that all day, useless”. She (they?) swiftly catches they pillow that’s been chucked at them, and grins. “Oh and Thalia’ll be out in a sec”.

“Your name’s Arson?” Lit asks, politely trying not to sound shocked or confused.

“Heh yeah. Of all the non-binary names someone like me could have picked, right?” They say, with a short laugh. “It was a close call between this, and Twig.”

“Her pronouns are she and they, btw”, Apollo says walking up from where he’d been talking to his sister, to envelop Arson in a hug, “Hey Ari!”

“Ah jeez. The hugging still isn’t over?” A raven haired girl says, walking into the now slightly crowded living room. “Well I’m Thalia. Do no touch me”. That last part was spit at Apollo. Her tone is menacing, but her little smirk shows otherwise.

“Hey Thalia”, Apollo says, reaching over to pat the red-head, Claire, on the shoulder, and ruffle her already ruffled hair. Please somebody comb it already!

“This is Lit, Apollo’s newest fling”, Artemis says, gesturing to the boy who looks like he can’t decide whether he wants to live here, or run away. He gives the room a shy smile. (Aww)

“Great! Now that we all know each other,” Get out of Pridelands? Sorry sorry. Just couldn’t miss out the opportunity to quote Lion King: Simba’s Pride. Artemis simply continues on with something about lunch and rotisserie chicken.

It’s been quite an uneventful couple hours, but oh, how could that possibly last? In a room full of people, half with names with mythological roots, and the one named after a crime? There’s bound to be some drama. No, calm down, there isn’t going to be a fire. Unless it’s Lit’s heart flaming for Apollo, or vice versa. ANYWAY I’m going way off script.

“So Lit, how’d you guys meet?” Claire asks around a mouthful of veggies, feet nestled comfortably on Arson’s lap. I’m starting to think they might be more than friends, but what do I know?

“Oh we had to do a project together. Obviously, we’d seen each other around before then, but yeah… that’s the first time we really interacted”, Lit answered, awkwardly trailing off at end, as if he thought he’d said to much. Seriously Lit? That was barely anything.

“And how long ago was that?” Arson asked.

“Uh-”

“About a month ago”, Apollo supplied, lacing his fingers through Lit’s, their hands clearly visible from the sofa they were seated on.

Lit’s adam’s apple bobbed, and he shifted slightly in his seat, but managed to keep calm, even lifting their conjoined hands into his lap.

“Huh. How long have you guys been together, then?” Thalia asked, staring to look interested.

“A couple weeks.” Apollo’s voice was calm, at startling odds with the red of his face.

“Oh?” Artemis said finally, her eyes moving from their linked hands, to Apollo’s face. “You move awfully fast brother.”

“Well, we both wanted it”, Lit tried to cut in. The sudden tension between the twins is so thick, even oblivious Lit notices.

Artemis ignores him and continues, “Don’t you remember what happened last time you moved this quickly?”

“Artemis, please”, Apollo says, starting to sound irritated, “You wanted me to stop fucking around, and I did. You seem to have a problem with everything I do.”

“Oh is that why you’re dating him? Because of me?” Oh shit… we’re getting awfully close to the truth now, huh?

“No. No, of course not”, Apollo lies quietly. Lit manages to discreetly untangle their fingers and pull away, looking a little hurt. “I like Lit”. So not all lies then? If only Lit knew that, then he’d stop looking like a kicked puppy.

“Just make sure he isn’t another Daphne”, Artemis says, a challenging look in her eyes.

“That was a mistake and you know it! When are you going to stop bringing it up?” Apollo spits angrily, before he gets up and walks out the front door.

Lit sits there in shock for a second, before deciding that an angry Apollo was easier to deal with that a room full of upset and curious people, and follows behind him. Damnit! I wanted to stay behind and listen to the gossip. Would you mind terribly if I did that?

Yea, I suppose you would.

Lit is leaning against the wall of the house, hands in his pockets, while Apollo leans over the porch railing, and stares at his car.

“So who’s Daphne?”

Apollo sighs in defeat, before saying, “My ex. One of my only two exes”. Then he turns around before almost hastily adding, “Exes being people I’ve actually dated, that is. Not just people I’ve slept with”.

“Of course. Of course you still care about your reputation as a fuckboy”, Lit says, sounding disappointed more than anything else. Look, I’m a sucker for drama, but what the hell is this?! I don’t like this.

“What? No”. Apollo sounds... scared? “No I’m just trying to be as clear as possible.”

Lit doesn’t say anything.

“Besides, why are you even mad? It’s not like we’re actually dating”.

“No.” Lit whispers, “We’re not”.

“Hey”, Apollo pleads, “I can’t handle you being mad at me too, Lit. I’m sorry you got dragged into this shit”.

Lit waves the apology away. “Why is Artemis so mad about Daphne?” If I were even a little less intuitive, I would’ve missed the hopeful tone of that question.

“Oh. Um- Daphne was one of Artemis’ best friends. That’s how we got close in the first place. Sometime last year, we started seeing each other, and eventually became official. We’d moved really quickly, and honestly didn’t have much in common except Artemis” And divinely good looks, if Apollo’s many flings are anything to go by. “But everything went great, nonetheless. Better than great, even. I started to think I loved her. Until it didn’t. Around the three month mark, things started to go sour. We’d disagree about pretty much everything, and we’d fight and argue all the time. Then it started to get monotonous and boring and we were just going through the motions. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I broke up with her, and…” That’s the one place he hesitates. “Left. I just left for college, and Artemis had to deal with Daphne, who apparently took it hard. I didn’t speak to her at all until just a few months ago.

We’re okay now, by the way. She says that I’m a better friend that boyfriend, and I can’t say I disagree. Lucky for you that we’re just faking it, right?” I notice the slight hitch in his voice, but Lit apparently doesn’t. He lets out a dry chuckle. “Artemis, on the other hand, is still obviously pissed. I don’t blame her. She said that Daphne only dated me at all because I seduced her. At first, I thought that was ridiculous, but if all the hoes on campus are anything to go by, it seems that was entirely possible”, he finishes bitterly. Well... that was quite a speech.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or exasperated by your unwavering level of self-confidence”, Lit says tiredly, after a brief pause. “Well that wasn’t as bad as I expected”.

“Yea, Artemis has been known to overreact”.

“I think her reaction was warranted”. Lit himself looks surprised at having defended Artemis.

“Maybe it was”, Apollo amends, eager to get back on Lit’s good side, I suppose. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“I’m not mad at you, no” comes the curt reply, suggesting that he is still mad at something. This whole situation, probably. This trip was supposed to be romantic for God’s sake!

“Good, because we have a little party to attend this evening”.

#don't really know where i was going with this one tbh #litpollo #litpollo fanfiction #lityerses #apollo #toa apollo #trials of apollo #modern day au #riordanverse #angst #eh kinda

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make-it-mavis · 3 years

Text

Homesick (Entry #40)

(cw: discussion of addiction and relapse) ----------

02/02/88 8:04 PM

Hey.

Well. At this point, it feels like there is so much to say, yet so little… comparatively.

Most of this bedtime story has been rife with screaming arguments, hallucinations, and explosions. There will not be so much of those, moving forward. I could say that the day I blew up Felix’s apartment was a turning point for me. It was the first moment where I truly felt like I had taken a step towards moving on and… letting go of what I could. But it was not a sharp turn, nor was it a great, leaping bound. Things did not suddenly get easier. No, they were only difficult in a different way.

But they were different.

I could probably fill a completely separate notebook with the details of my journey through counselling since then. But that would be very boring to read and to write, so I will just give you the important bits to catch you up to speed. Stay with me, now. This is going to be a whole lot condensed into chewable pieces.

In counselling, we learned about the five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Looking back, I can see how non-linear it was for me. I spent so long dancing around the first three. But after my amnesia was cured, I arrived at depression. Collapsed into it, really.

Now, I’ve been depressed before. It was quite some time ago, before you and I even met. So I recognized what I was experiencing. But this time around, it was… more acute. Less existential, and more like an injury. I wasn’t lost inside my head. I knew exactly what I was sad about, and it was as real and tangible as any physical wound I had sustained before.

It was as if my very code had been pushed to the point of exhaustion and could not get back up. I spent most of my time on Felix’s couch, and most of that time was spent sleeping. I barely showered and I smelled like hell, but Felix still insisted on having tea and chatting at least once a day. He did almost all the talking, and I usually didn’t drink the tea, but he didn’t mind. He’d just drink it for me, and end up taking such frequent trips to the bathroom that I’d fall asleep again.

Given that I could barely make myself get up and walk around, going to counselling was more daunting than ever. November passed by without me taking notice, and it was maybe a week into December before I was able to make it there again. When I did, I told everyone what I’d done. What I’d remembered. And how I had been absent so long because I felt too depressed to come. Then, of course, they told me that the best time to come to counselling is when you don’t want to. I wanted to argue with that, but they were probably right.

I very quickly came to understand why counselling was done in a group. At first, it felt like a punishment, like we all had to sit around and think about what we’d done. Or that there just weren’t enough counsellors for one-on-one therapy. It’s not even entirely just for empathizing with others’ similar experiences, or creating a sense of community. No, it’s something much more annoying than that.

A group will hold you accountable. They’ll make sure you’re participating and call you out when you’re not. I went into the counselling experience hoping I could just do the time and get out, but no one gets away with that in a group. You can’t just rip off the bandaid.

No, counselling is more like ripping off the bandaid, then digging into the wound with tweezers to pull out all the shrapnel, then stitching up the wound, and repeatedly changing the bandages to avoid infection. And then those stitches can sometimes come loose and you have to do them all over again.

It sucks. It hurts. But I won’t say it doesn’t work.

Anyway, around this point in the ‘story,’ I still hadn’t quite finished Step 4, with the ‘fearless moral inventory.’ I was still having trouble deciding just what to say. I had Felix be the audience to my venting one night. I explained to him my predicament: I had done many things that others would consider ‘bad’ or ‘immoral’ over the course of my life, far too many to count or to list. And a whole lot of them, I didn’t even feel bad for. Pranks, petty theft, and general snarkiness seemed harmless enough. I didn’t know what was worth adding to the list.

Felix suggested sticking to the big ones. What things did I consider not so harmless? What things were bad enough to make me lose sleep over? What did I really, truly regret?

I didn’t want to tell him. Those questions felt too prying. But, reminding myself that I was trying to make big changes, I eventually managed to name it all.

I felt bad for… assuming the worst of everyone. Especially anyone close to me. I felt bad for getting them all involved with my problems, and… refusing their help, but still somehow taking advantage of them. For making Felix worry that I was going to die, and for making Wreck-it feel responsible.

And Tapper. Just… in general, Tapper. Everything I’d done to him. Lying to him. Using him. Endangering his game.

Endangering my game.

Threatening that one anonymous stranger for a hit of GC.

And getting you hooked on my Shield and Lift buffs… way back when.

I took Felix’s suggestion to write all that down, and whatever else I might have been feeling. It definitely helped me sort out my thoughts. It didn’t feel good. At all. In fact, it was hard to fight the idea that I was a lost cause, and that even before all this, I was not worth saving. But I pushed on regardless, because it felt like the only direction to move in.

As difficult as it had been, listing all that earned me Step 4, and after I recounted it all to the counselling group, I had Step 5, Integrity, under my belt.

Even though it was hard, I was doing well in the program. I really was, all things considered. I had made it farther than I thought possible at the beginning. But like I said… those stitches come loose sometimes. Recovery, like my grieving process, has not been linear. And after Step 5, some part of me felt stretched too far. Like my code once more remembered that I’m not the sort to lay myself open for others to see. Too many sprites had been given deeply personal pieces of my mind to take home with them. It was unnatural. It wasn’t right. It was not like me. I couldn’t piece together this new life with the life I knew before and have it make sense. I was trying to make meaningful changes, for sure, but suddenly, I felt like I didn’t recognize the sprite I’d become. I didn’t recognize my game or anyone in it. It was… eerie.

It put a panicked, defensive fight in me. I had to set things straight. I would not allow this strange, foreign life to continue until I did. So, for the first time in… longer than I had realized, I went back to my den in the woods. Just to be somewhere familiar and see if I could remember who I was.

It helped a little at first. I dug through all the junk I had amassed, each one connecting to some small memory from before this all happened. But then I found three things that were… a dangerous combo.

Your scarf and goggles… and the bottle of blue wine Tapper had given me at the memorial. Still unopened.

I was able to resist the wine. But I… didn’t exactly get rid of it, like I should have.

As for your old, burnt belongings...

I didn’t understand what I was doing at the time, or why. I get it now, I think. Writing my thoughts down had helped in Step 4, and my head was a twisted, tangled mess that I just had to sort out before I went insane. I needed to understand what I’d been through and how I got there. It’s just that I was only inspired to start writing once I saw your scarf and goggles again. Once they threw that angry, vicious anxiety through me and I was possessed by the overwhelming need to reach you from beyond the grave and tell you just what you had done to me.

So… I started writing this story. Or these letters, or... journals. You know.

Since then it’s been… well, incredibly therapeutic. And, just like I thought they would, the folks at counselling said that journaling is a very healthy coping mechanism. That’s what I called it, too. Journaling. I wanted to keep the fact that I was writing to you private. I was already revealing so much to them. I wanted to have just one thing I didn’t have to tell them.

I didn’t think it would have made a difference, anyway, and it didn’t. Not at first. I finished Step 6 just fine, which was Willingness. I was pretty willing to let go of my old bad habits in whatever way I could. Step 7 was harder for a few reasons, not the least of which being that my higher power is not sentient, and I could therefore not ask it for forgiveness, or to remove my character flaws. But I sort of earned Humility in a different way.

You see, I didn’t tell them I was writing to you, but I also... didn’t tell them about the wine.

And thoughts of you had not mixed well with the temptation of substances in the past. So, around Christmas, I holed up in my den and… relapsed. It was nothing big, as far as relapses go. But I’m still not proud of it.

I just wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be. My first Christmas without you.

Anyway… don’t worry. That didn’t put too big a snag in things. I told Felix, and I told everyone in counselling about it, and they all understood. A couple others actually had similar challenges. Many of us had someone to miss, and it was a hard time of year to miss somebody. I admitted to them that I sort of felt like I’d failed. But Clyde remarked that I showed humility by so willingly turning to the group for support, which had been hard for me at the start. I very easily could have tried to hide out of shame or a need to shoulder it alone. Maybe I couldn’t ask color for forgiveness, but in a way, I asked the group for it.

I still sort of don’t understand it. But, hey. Whatever the ghost says.

In any case, I was able to let the mistake go and move forward, which… felt very freeing, now that I think of it. Since then, I’ve been counting the days I’ve spent completely sober, slowly racking them up like the most boring, most difficult sort of high score.

It’ll be forty today.

I’m forty days sober, and I just finished Step 9 a couple days ago. So… I guess I’m doing pretty well.

I’ve been writing a while, and this pen is nearly out of ink, but before I wrap this entry up, I really ought to tell you about Step 9, and what it brought about.

Step 8, for the record, is barely worth mentioning. It’s Love, which, y’know, gross. But it’s basically making a list of the sprites you’ve wronged, which I felt like I had done three times already. Step 9, then, Responsibility, is making amends with those sprites wherever possible.

I’m already well on my way with Felix. Tapper, well… I’ve done the best I can for now. I don’t even know who the sprite I threatened was, so there’s little I can do there. And you… are kind of hard to reach lately. So, the only possible option left was...

Wreck-it.

I’d known for quite some time that we were overdue for a chat. We hadn’t really talked at all since I’d come out of that coma, which meant we had been surviving on brief, awkward greetings and the smallest of small talk for a couple of months. We were not on bad terms, nor good terms. We just sort of existed in the same space, trying our best to just tolerate each other and to ignore the elephant in the room. And before all this, I would have been content to leave things that way forever if it meant I wouldn’t have to talk to him about our feelings.

I only managed to speak to him once the 12 Step Program gave me any idea of what to say, and the desire for things to stop being weird outweighed the awkwardness.

I caught him shortly after the arcade closed the other night, just as he was about to board the train to leave our game. Caught him quite off-guard too, apparently, given the way he jumped and tried to smooth his little yelp into a casual speaking voice.

Like this: “Ahh--!! Ahh! Ahh, Mavis, I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

Making someone jump always brings at least a bit of a smile to my face. “Hey there, uh… Ralph.”

The use of his name rather than his title already earned me a confused eyebrow quirk, but I saw it as setting the mood for the uncharacteristically intimate conversation we were about to have. It seemed effective, given how still he became, almost holding his breath in a nervous sort of curiosity.

“You, uh… going to Tapper’s?” I asked, trying to get him to relax a bit.

“Yep…” he said, rapping his fist against his leg slightly, like he does. “Do you… wanna come too, or..?”

I pressed my lips together, not quite smiling. “Nah. Still can’t go anywhere.”

“Oh-- oh-- yeah, of course. Wow. Stupid question,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “That, uh, counselling thing still goin’ on, then? Or am I not allowed to ask?”

“It is,” I shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets. “And… you are allowed. It’s actually more or less what I need to talk to you about.”

“...Really?” he asked cautiously. “Me? Why?”

I closed my eyes and let out a steady breath, sorting my thoughts for the hundredth time. “We probably should’ve talked sooner, it’s just that…” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Well, I’ll say it outright. I’m supposed to talk to everyone I’ve wronged. And that includes you.”

He paused. Then he squinted. “Everyone?”

“Well,” I said flatly. “No. Just the ones I’ve done the dirtiest. The big deals.”

“And I really made that list for you? Me?”

I sighed with a slow blink, and cut to the chase. “Ralph, I heard everything you said to me when I was in that coma. Everything.”

“Oh,” he said, shifting his weight awkwardly, until the memory visibly returned to him and he stood rigid. “...Oh.”

“Yeah. Do you…” I struggled to maintain eye contact, “Do you… I mean, do you still actually blame yourself for anything that happened to me… after that night at Tapper’s?”

“Pfft,” he huffed, smiling joylessly. “C’mon. Ew. Did I say that?”

I stared.

He quickly gave in, folding his arms with a sigh. “...No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it. I wanted to help you. I did. I never would have dragged you out there if I’d known you’d… Well. Whatever. Bad Guys aren’t meant to help anybody. Lesson learned, yet again.”

“Yeah… sure. Except the thing is, you, uh… did help,” I said, and saw him perk up the tiniest bit. “You let me stay with you. Even though I was a thankless, entitled pain in the neck. You kept me company just because I didn’t want to be alone. I know you n’ I aren’t exactly bosom pals, and I know you’re a Bad Guy, but… I guess that just makes it even more of a damn decent thing to do.”

He seemed surprised by my words, even a bit shaken by them in some way, but still, his gaze fell away from me a bit. Seemed like he was no better at accepting genuine praise than I am.

Pushing on, I said, “And if you feel guilty right now because you actually wanted to cave in my skull the whole time, then, don’t. I’d have wanted to throw my ass to the curb, too, if I were you. I don’t blame you for pushing me out. I did at first, but I don’t anymore. I was already primed to spiral, Ralph. I was headed for rock bottom one way or another. Don’t blame yourself for what I did. That’s my fault, not yours.”

He looked at me again, a quiet sort of disbelief in his eyes, which was good, because I needed to look him in the eye for what I was about to say.

“Ralph, I’m sorry.”

At that, he seemed… put on the spot, almost. Like he had no idea how to react. He took a moment to think and to breathe, like everything had to sink in. I knew that he would be surprised, so I didn’t really react. I had gotten all of my weird, emotional words out. The hard part was over.

I watched him begin to scrutinize me, like there was some hidden trick behind my back. He even slowly walked in a circle around me, trying to figure me out. He found nothing, and I offered nothing.

“So…” he said, squinting at me sidelong, “you’re sayin’... you’re sorry. You. You, Make- it Mavis, high queen of the gremlins, are sorry.”

I knew he would do that. Make a huge, obnoxious deal out of it. “Yes,” I said plainly.

“For everything?”

“Yes,” I repeated, with just a twinge of annoyance.

“Everything.”

“Yes.”

Then he pointed at me, as if firing off his question quick-draw style: “Even for calling me a trash gorilla?”

“Hell no,” I recoiled a bit. “I’m a recovering addict, not a kiss-ass.”

That was the first time I saw him almost relieved that I’d sort of insulted him. He straightened up and folded his arms, the tension in his body visibly relaxing as he sized me up. He nodded the slightest bit. “Yeah, I know,” he said, “that was just a test to see if you’d actually lost your mind.”

“Oh, so this is the point where you question my sanity. Nothing in the past couple months has been all that unusual, then,” I said, sort of smirking.

“Nah,” he reluctantly mirrored my smile. “Home intrusion, explosions, tryin’ to conk Gene over the head with a wooden club -- all standard Mavis fare.”

That earned a snicker from me. “Don’t think he’s escaped my clutches just yet.”

“Yeah, in his dreams.”

A silence set in at that point. Both of our smiles slowly began to fade as the silence grew from content to awkward once again. I wasn’t sure what else to say, but Ralph looked like he was working on something, so I waited.

“So,” he eventually said, his tone more sober, “you… really mean all that, huh. What you said about… Y’know. That you’re sorry.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I do,” I said quietly.

“Wow,” he almost chuckled, and gave me a sort of smile that I’d otherwise never seen on his face. “Counselling’s sure done a number on you, huh?"

"Well," I shifted my weight, unsure how to respond. It was a strange truth, and it was even stranger hearing it from him. "That's the idea, anyway."

Ralph seemed pleasantly surprised by the whole encounter, but it was just about over. Some small part of him must have wanted to draw it out even longer, a sentiment that I'm sure came as puzzling to him.

Scratching his chest a bit, he said, "Yeah, well… maybe once you're free again, and if you're up for it, we could go for drinks at Tapper's again. Just rag on Gene like the old days. Or Felix, even. I'm sure he's drivin' you up the wall lately with all the fussing."

I clicked my tongue. "Not… for drinks, no. As amazingly depressing as it is to say, I don't drink anymore."

"Really?" He asked, just before lightly smacking himself in the head. "D'oh, of course you don't. Wow. Sorry. I don't know where my head's at today."

"S'okay," I shrugged. "But there's more than just drinks at Tapper's. We can still go. I'll just have snacks or something. Maybe some actual, real pretzels, unlike last time."

He tilted his head. "Last time…?"

Opting to not recount the embarrassing tale of my snack hallucinations from my last visit, I waved it off. "Nevermind. Anyway, this is all making the very big assumption that Tapper will even let me through the doors. Y'know… after everything."

Ralph frowned. "You miss him, huh."

My gaze fell to his feet. "Yeah," I muttered.

"Well, I'm just on my way to see him now," Ralph said, finally turning around to slowly squeeze himself into an undersized train car. "I'll let him know."

Just the thought of any sentiment of mine reaching Tapper sort of sprung a leak in my heart, and before I could think, I was talking, my voice trembling the tiniest bit.

"If-- If you're talking to him anyway," I said, stepping forward almost as if I would follow him, "could you tell him something more?"

Ralph seemed a little surprised by my emotion, but he nodded anyway. "Sure. What is it?"

"Tell him I'm-- I'm…" I sighed, and my shoulders fell heavy. "I'm... sorry. I was probably the worst to him, out of everyone. And I know I can't take any of that back. And if he never wants to see me again… I can accept that. But there's just one thing I really need him to know."

I swallowed. "He's the reason I even agreed to counselling in the first place."

"Really?" Ralph asked quietly.

I nodded, not quite looking his way, focusing all my energy on keeping it together. "Yeah. He… urged me to get help, and when I didn't, I… nearly got his game unplugged. I'm putting in the work now. I'm getting help. I'm getting clean, just like he said. I'm thirty-eight days sober. And it all started because I just… had to make it right. Doing right by him is what's kept me going through a lot of this."

I took a moment to breathe and rein in my unruly emotions, trying to consider just how much I really wanted to share with Ralph. I'm working on being vulnerable, but I've found that I can't rush it. Plus, I'm sure Ralph felt a little awkward on the receiving end. He just watched me, unsure of what to say, but a quiet sympathy still showed in his eyes.

"Just…" I cleared my throat, "just tell him I'm sorry… and thank him for me. Please."

He offered me a half-smile and a soft nod. "Okay. You got it."

At that point, the dinky little cord train began to slowly pull out of our tiny station, sort of squeaking with the effort of bearing Ralph's weight. I watched him go, feeling that hot embarrassment that follows a particularly personal share. The thought that Ralph was probably happy to see me being good to Tapper for once was both comforting and… kind of annoying.

After the train had moved a short distance away, I just about turned to leave, but Ralph's voice caught my attention.

"Oh, and Mavis?"

I looked to see him twisting awkwardly in his seat, calling back to me.

"...Thanks."

That just made my face feel a little bit hotter, but I gave a small smile and flicked a casual salute his way. "Don't mention it," I called back, and waited until the train disappeared into the dark mouth of the tunnel before adding quietly, "...ever."

After that, for the first little while, my evening carried on just about the same as ever. I wound up in Felix's apartment for the usual tea and chats. I played my guitar for a while, and Felix listened happily until the tea was all brewed, and we sat on the couch while he told me about his day. I talked a bit too, but I didn't tell him about my conversation with Ralph. I wanted some light chatter about nothing in particular, a break from the heavy topics that run so rampant for me lately. I even wanted a bit of tea. I still maintain that chamomile tastes like soap, but peppermint is actually pretty good with a hefty scoop of sugar.

It was a couple hours into our visit that the most unusual, most… amazing thing happened.

I had given in to the primal need to lie flat on the floor as I often do, and Felix was sitting at the table polishing his medals when we heard footsteps in the hall. Huge, heavy, thumping footsteps. We glanced at each other for just a minute before we both nearly leapt out of our pixels from the front door being knocked off its hinges.

Through the open, splintered door frame, there stood Ralph, eyes wide. Instantly, his face filled with apologetic embarrassment.

"Woops," he chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

I sat up, and Felix walked over to the door with a bit of an exasperated sigh. "That's alright, Ralph," he assured, easily repairing the door with his hammer and holding it open anyway. "It's polite of you to knock."

My heart began to settle from the frightful shock it suffered, but I was sort of wary to see Ralph again so soon after our last conversation. I didn't know what more he could want, but I didn't feel the emotional energy to deal with whatever it was. I stood and walked over to the door to meet him. He had to twist down a bit to see through the doorway, and his awkward stance was punctuated with a nervous grin.

"Hey-- Hey Mavis," he said.

"Ralph," I grit my teeth just a bit, more from discomfort than anger. I let my eyes dart to Felix just a bit, hoping to signal to Ralph that now was not the time. "...Hi. What… what's up?"

"Uh, well…" he sucked his teeth, "could you step out here for a sec?"

"Why?"

"So I don't have to stand like this."

That was fair. I obliged, and nodded to Felix to give us some privacy. After he closed the door, I immediately whispered to Ralph, "Okay, now what's so urgent?"

Even though he didn't have to bend over anymore, Ralph still had to bow his head to fit under the relatively low ceiling. He put out his hands just a bit to urge me to be calm.

"Look, I'm not here to bug you," he said, and lowered his voice when I shushed him. "I'm just here to make a delivery."

I squinted at him sidelong. "Of what?"

"Well, a message, for one," he shrugged, smiling a little bit. "I talked to Tapper for you, like you asked. And he wanted me to tell you something."

I straightened up, and my heart sort of skipped a beat. "...Oh. What did he say?"

"A couple things. He's, uh… well, he's real happy to hear you're getting help. He wants to congratulate you for that. You've got his full support, he said. It meant a lot to hear that you've been doing well, because you've been on his mind. He thinks about you all the time."

I didn't know what to say or how to react. It was a lot to take in. I had sort of made my peace with him hating me after everything I did, so to hear that he still cared about me was… a relief so acute that it sort of broke my heart.

I barely had time to process it all before Ralph revealed the true hard-hitter.

"In fact, uh," he said, "he'd been thinking of you so much that he… made something for you. He told me to give it to you right away, because… I dunno, he said you seemed ready for it."

Then he reached into the chest of his overalls and pulled out a square picture frame. I was confused at first, but once he handed it to me and I saw what it was, my heart stopped.

Inside the frame were napkins from his bar. Four of them, arranged in a neat square. And on those napkins were… drawings. Two of them were clear, loving depictions of you that I didn't even remember drawing. And on the other two were doodles that you and I had done together. Unflattering, playful caricatures of each other. Our drawing styles could not have been more different -- mine being fluid and organic and yours being clean-cut contour line drawings, but somehow, they worked so well together. The fragile paper was slightly ripped in places from the pens we used, and there were small sections where the ink bled from mug-shaped rings of moisture. All in all, it was a chaotic, dirty mess.

It was us.

It was us at our very happiest moments, just goofing off together, adoring each other without ever needing to say it.

It was the most beautiful gift I'd ever received.

Struck silent by a wall of emotion, I just held it and stared at it in utter disbelief. The fact that Tapper would have cared enough to save such simple things was more than I could comprehend. The drawings could have been years old by then, but still…

It wasn't until my tears fell and splashed against the frame that I even realized I'd been crying.

"Oh," Ralph whispered, a bit of panic in his voice. "Mavis. Crying. Uh-- I'm-- I'm sorry. I didn't want you to-- I'm--"

His hands hovered around me hesitantly, completely lost as to how to comfort me. But he didn't have to decide. I felt an urge and followed it immediately.

I just reached out and took one of his huge, square fingers in my hand, even though his heavy code burned a bit to touch. He froze, rightfully taken aback. I didn't explain. I just stepped a bit closer so that he would not have to reach out to me quite so far, hugged the frame to my chest with my other arm, and bowed my head while I wept silently. Ralph said nothing, but I felt his arm relax a bit once he accepted the situation.

Eventually, I pushed a few quivering words out. "Thank you," I muttered. I looked the gift over once again. "I… I can't believe this."

"So you like it?" he asked quietly.

I could only nod.

"I'll pass that on to Tapper, then," he sighed, but I could hear a smile in his voice. "Gee, I'm just a nine-foot-tall messenger boy, aren't I?"

"Thank-- thank you," I choked out again.

"Nah… it's nothin'," he shrugged.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gift in my hand. It was so perfect. It felt like everything I needed. Like it was the one thing that was missing in my road to recovery. That feeling in itself stood out to me, and I followed it through my mind. Apart from all the staggering sentimental value, there was something about Tapper's gesture that felt so empathetic, so validating, like he was acknowledging that I lost something wonderful, something worth mourning. It was the first thing anyone had given me, or the first thing anyone made at all, that honored your memory.

Then it hit me. The thing that was missing. The thing I would absolutely need if I had any hope of moving on.

I let go of Ralph's hand and burst through the door of Felix's apartment. He had gone back to polishing his medals, but he quite nearly dropped one when he saw the tears on my face.

"Mavy? What--"

I interrupted him, trying to keep up with my rush of clarity. "Felix," I said urgently, "I need your help. There's something I need from you. I know what I need."

He stood, approaching me with concern in his eyes.

"I need a funeral for Turbo," I said firmly. "A real one. It doesn't have to be big. In fact, it'll probably be just the three of us," I glanced back at Ralph, who was bending down once again, "but that'll be fine. It just needs to happen. Please."

I looked at Felix again, and his eyes were full of understanding, sympathy, and love.

"Then we'll do it," he said gently.

"Yeah," I heard Ralph say. "Count me in."

I choked out a single, grateful laugh. "Thank you."

We began planning right away.

It's happening tomorrow.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #fix it felix #make it mavis #tapper #turbo #original character #homesick

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hydralisk98 · 3 years

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Just planning out some ideas for a iCivics WhiteHouse's playtrough video

Hya comrades of the world, I am Klara Kér, better known as Olyvier Bouchard. We are gonna have alot of fun here, so enjoy your stay.

Beware though that as we dive deeper and deeper into the topics at hand, some of you may believe I am against the United States of America or against Republicans. Be sure that as long as you are civil in our conversation I am gonna keep a listening type of ear. Fair, is it clear now? Good, because we got alot to unpack here.

So for the Democrat policies, I stand some official ones as well as some more that are quite niche really.

Federal funding of Education: I agree upon letting some room for a private education market but I cannot stress enough how a well-funded public schools system helps the common folk into jobs and into fuller lives as well. Especially over colleges and universities where the cost of entry has expanded to ludicrous prices. So ya, get your shit together America.

LGBTQ+ rights: As of the latest anti-LGBTQ+ bills in southern America I simply can't stand how primitive some lawmakers are in the USA. It really goes to highlight how much Wilsonism has destroyed alot of potential for America as of human rights and all. When some black-colored inhabited towns are literally getting no clean water in a supposedly fist world nation that is quite the statement of ours backwaters this country is at times.

Global cooperation: We all know Trump has destroyed foreign relations with pretty much the rest of the world making it the joke it is as of today. But that ain't new really. As far back as the infamous Woodrow Wilson, we can see how America has sabotaged itself for long-term longevity barely held together by the vast quality of it's geography. America has lost Russia's trust on WW1, lost France's on WW2-Cold War period, and it is soon gotta fall because of all those poor decisions done starting from Wilson and continued by all the other folks since then.

Climate change: Sooner than later if not already, we are living in a global climate crisis that is gonna make pretty much everybody in the future hate our decision-making quite deeply. And the effects are only gonna get way worse for every second we stay in the current capitalism-induced consumerist status quo. So ya, alleviating the effects of the crisis at a incredibly deep level is pretty much what should be a main focus at the moment. And like I said, the third and second world are gotta pay for most of it whilst we are gonna pay some but definitely gonna profit more than anytihng. Make no mistake, because the steep divide and hatred of those nations towards the West is mostly of our shared society's fault and is probably gonna get real profound in no time at all.

Campaign finances Transparency: Deliberately hiding information that concerns our citizens' policies is quite bad honestly. Get your shit together Biden and answer the call of your country rising left movement caused by your predecessors' stubborness and by yourself alike. Not solving nor trying to solve the issues we got since like forever is quite fighting back against America, the World, Liberty and Progress overall.

More cultural FLOSS-ness: More affordable culture and much more proper lefty-licenced works to use would greatly benefit not simply America but the world as a whole. I mean, the situation over copyrights and reserved permissions only to big corporations is just insane. It really has to let go from those older works and we really deserve some damn free licenced works upon on hands with much easier access, also for the metadata information as well.

Adoption of FLOSS hardware and software into Government: As a Linux user over my server desktop at home besides Windows 10 over my laptop and iOS for my smartphone, I really put a emphasis upon a freer open and libre experience with governmental as some countries do elsewhere. I know the entire governmental tech situation is quite a bit slow most of the time but I think we got alot to win with minimalistic blob-free experience inside government. Especially as we can't trust big corporations to not put backdoors of their own everywhere they can.

Regulating further mega corporations and their oligopolies + encouraging smaller businesses / individuals into innovation and sustainability: I know we live in a digitalized world where big corporations seems better to offer such costful services and all but I think you underestimate the balance with the small businesses and individuals. Seriously, you should reconsider such a balance as whenever a new innovator comes by to challenge authority or even just to bring new innovative products into the market it just fails to deliver long term as they often get bought by those bigger corporations simply to bring profits and not to enhance the products really. Capitalism and consumerism 101 become also big issues with big corporations too as they are not so concerned to sustainability as smaller bodies by law are.

Supporting and legalizing Labor Unions and Cooperatives: I don't know how has America taken so long to go without supporting unions and cooperatives while the rest of the world has but this is a big problem. I know a bit about the Ben Shapiro's but are we seriously gonna trust big corporations to properly protect their employees? Of course in a ideal world we would but this Earth ain't like that my quite a margin. So ya, just looking at Desjardins, especially back in the early 20th century, you can see how decentralized and advantageous this is.

So... what's my whole opinion about the Republicans, especially as of the Trump administration? Well, I have a single word to describe it's entirety and beyond: Wilsonism. Modern 'republicans' and Conservatives could make it count but honestly all you are doing right now is pretty much fueling alot of the bad in this world really. I am building off a fantastical world of my very own for a reason. And it is to get a overall less toxic and more enjoyable world to live in. So ya, Trump and all conservatives of the world, get your entire ideology together and start building up something smarter and way more useful than just whining upon modern progress and liberal policies. I may actually help for that bit if you are sincere and honest about it but meanwhile I am gonna prepare my damn safety exit out of this really mad world. (including the details of such a better Post-Conservative movement)

And before somebody asks why I am writing all those walls of text, no worries, I have some cute animated drawings and edits on it's way as well so ya.

Still Work.In.Progress but I am gonna get there eventually with more visuals and content.

Cya mates.

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whentherewerebicycles · 4 years

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some good lifestyle things:

I’ve been eating by the “how not to die” guidelines for 24 weeks now (five months and some change) and I love iiiiit. I still make a couple tiny exceptions—I cook with eggs maybe once a month, use a little more oil in cooking than I probably should, and sometimes put a couple tablespoons of Greek yogurt in my morning smoothie bc I like the flavor—but really have not missed cheese, sugar, non-whole grain breads, ice cream, etc. definitely feel a lot better just in general: no more cravings, joint pain is COMPLETELY gone (what a fucking miracle!!!!), sleep is betterish, no late in the day energy crashes, and I never feel ravenously hungry or like I’m “starving” anymore (that panicky starve/binge cycle). for me quarantine has been a good reset/chance to solidify better eating habits on the whole, bc I have plenty of time to do meal prep + total control over what is in my food environment. also I love using the Daily Dozen app because, as I think I’ve said before, it makes it feel less like obsessively monitoring food intake and more like a fun challenge or game to see how many categories I can check off in a single meal.

I’m now on week 3 of no drinking and am going to see if I can do a sober summer, probably with an exception for my brother’s wedding/our seattle trip. so three months in all, and then I want to reassess to see if I want to keep going. I am trying to never again make losing weight my top priority in any lifestyle change, but I do think that alcohol (esp some HEAVY and consistent binge drinking early in the lockdown whoops) is def one of the reasons I haven’t dropped much weight despite major changes to how I eat. this is, again, easier to control in quarantine bc no social drinking opportunities, which have historically been my downfall in past attempts to cut back on alcohol intake. anyway hoping I can use the summer to solidify some good habits!!

doing pretty well with exercise! we are getting into the intolerable heat phase of the year which is always rough but I’m trying to push through. adding in some rollerblading sessions helps because it’s super fun and different enough to be interesting, and also it means I don’t have to run so often to get a more intense cardio workout. the downside is there’s sometimes more of a mental block there because I have to put on all my gear and lug the skates down the street so some days when I intend to go I putter around too long and don’t end up making it outside before it’s either too hot or too dark. but!! working on it. I’ve also been tracking exercise more carefully the past couple weeks:

so that is useful and will maybe help me notice patterns of activity/inactivity. I am also almost done with the couch to 5k program I started when lockdown began—5 runs left! I can finish that easily by the end of June, and then I’m going to start their 10k program in July. I WISH I COULD BE SWIMMING THIS SUMMER but I feel too nervous about the indoor pool and so have opted to suspend my ymca membership until August or later.

umm what else. I bought a jumprope! I’m reading this book about exercise in the brain! I’m trying to track heart rate during workouts! I still for some reason find myself vehemently resisting bodyweight exercises (maybe bc they feel too much like a fitness class to me), but maybe. we’ll see. the secret to getting me interested is probably to keep reading about sidney crosby’s legs and core workouts bc then it’ll hook my fic imagination.

anyway I feel good/strong in my body these days!! also a side effect of changing my diet is that my skin is so clear and my curls are SO LUXURIOUS AND GLOSSY it’s kind of insane. too bad it’s all going to WASTE locked indoors but oh well. when all this ends I will emerge into the world very tan and sober and glowing with good health, god willing.

#long post #how not to die #exercise #sorry on mobile will put in readmore link when im on laptop

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supercasey · 4 years

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Nomad of Nowhere Modern+Twins AU Notes/Ideas

Can y’all tell I got bored and can’t stop thinking about this sort of AU? Prepare for some serious bullshit. (Putting this under a cut because I’m merciful)

((El Rey is gonna be called Adrian in this AU, as I saw someone on Tumblr (emery-night) suggest it as a possible name awhile back, and since one of my brother's middle names is Adrian, I had to.))

Benjamin, Annabeth, and Adrian are all polyam, but they're not exactly the most “picture perfect” polyam relationship; they all tend to argue quite a bit, but at the end of the day, they all still care very deeply for each other.

Ben and Adrian went to college together, and were roommates through all four years they went; they started dating/hooking up about halfway through freshman year.

Annabeth: Oh my god, they were roommates.

After their fourth year of college ended, Adrian had to go back home to run his father's business, which meant he couldn't date Ben anymore, as his dad was extremely homophobic. Ben was heartbroken, but understood that Adrian didn't want to end things either, so he accepted it and moved on with his life, making sure to keep in touch with Adrian through social media and by calling/texting him every so often.

About two years later, Benjamin ran into Annabeth for the first time. Anna was working on her family's farm at the time, but once she fell for the city boy, she packed her bags and ran off to start a new life with him.

They had the twins within their first year of marriage, which was… chaotic, to say the fucking least. Thankfully they managed well enough, but it was still somewhat of an ordeal to get through together. ((Thankfully in this AU, Ben isn’t running from any bounty hunters/his ex, so he doesn’t ever lash out at Anna and lose her.))

Nearly five years after the twins were born, Adrian just kinda… showed up on their doorstep, looking frazzled and freaked the fuck out. They of course let him come inside, and after finding out that he had been cut off upon his father discovering he was gay, the couple let him stay with them from then on.

Pretty soon, the trio was officially polyam, both Adrian and Anna dating Ben, but not each other. They’re both really good friends, though! Ben loves his husband and wife so fucking much.

Since he grew up in such a privileged environment, Adrian really struggles with getting used to living like his partners (they aren’t necessarily poor, but they aren’t rich either), but he settles soon enough into working at an office building, where he constantly is climbing the corporate ladder and becoming quite the businessman.

Annabeth settled really quickly into her job as an architect, and works on designing houses in an office building about an hour away from the family house (which she and Ben built together right before they got married, adding another floor after Adrian moved in with them).

Benjamin, surprisingly enough, is a stay at home dad, and after all the kids reach school age, he starts doing part-time handyman jobs around town. Primarily though, he's still mostly a stay at home dad, and does a lot of the housework.

Adrian can't cook for S H I T. He set the oven in his and Ben's dorm on fire no less than three times, and also accidentally blew up the microwave at one point. After he moves in, Ben is quick to ban him from any sort of cooking; Adrian doesn't even bother arguing with him over it.

Anna can cook a little. She's usually pretty tuckered out after work, so she rarely cooks dinner, but when she does it's a stew that's fucking incredible.

Ben is a monster in the kitchen, having learned how to cook at a very young age, and he takes great pride in cooking nice meals for the family almost every night.

Both Ben and Anna were really worried the twins wouldn’t like Adrian, but he gets along with them really well, especially since he came into their lives so really early on; when they’re about seven, Skout asks who Adrian is to her parents, and after being told he’s in love with Pappy and best friends with Mama, she starts referring to Adrian as Daddy/Dad, Hunter doing the same through sign language/writing note to him. Adrian cries from happiness.

Also, because I love her, and because I honestly think Ben would never obey the “have as few kids as possible” rule most wizard's follow in the Twins AU, when the twins are about six or seven, their parents have another kid; a little girl they name Melinda.

(Truth be told, Ben and El Rey aren't 100% certain who fathered her, but they always say it was the other guy who did it. Anna doesn't really care, so long as they both treat her youngest daughter well, which they of course do!)

Melinda is a bit of a terror as a young child, and is constantly pestering her older siblings. Skout and her get along better once Skout hits high school age (before then, they argue constantly), but before that Hunter and Melinda are super close. After Melinda hits 13-14 though, they don’t quite have a “falling out”, but she gets her own friends at school and doesn’t want to hang out with Hunter as much anymore; this devastates Hunter, but he’s so freaking glad she has friends that he’s never going to tell her that.

Okay, onto the twins:

Hunter and Skout are practically glued to the fucking hip all throughout their early childhood; Hunter follows his sister around because no one wants to try communicating with the mute kid, and Skout loves hanging out with her brother despite other kids being weirded out by him.

Skout used to be a total tomboy/rebel as a preteen. Seriously, she was constantly in and out of the principal's office, mainly because she got into fights protecting her bro.

By the time Toth moves to town at the very start of 9th grade and meets her, Skout is almost a completely different person by then, having gotten more invested in reading/school than getting into fights.

The first time Toth sees some ex-bullies from Skout's middle school run for their lives upon seeing who Toth thought was just a sweet, innocent redhead who loves reading, Toth knows she's in love.

Toth does NOT like Hunter at first, mostly because the first time she met him, he refused to let her borrow a pencil and she took that to mean he was an asshole; truth is, he only had the one, but had trouble communicating that to her at the time, resulting in her not quite “bullying” him, but… okay, she bullied him, but after getting with Skout, she lays off and even apologizes to him for being so mean.

Toth and Hunter eventually start getting along after Toth and Skout get together, but Hunter definitely teases/messes with her on occasion because he thinks it's funny. Toth is mostly neutral to this and figures it's justified payback for how she used to treat him.

Where Skout has Toth as a friend at school (and I guess that total asshole “Red Manuel” or whatever the fuck he’s calling himself who constantly pesters them both), Hunter is friends with a trio of kids nicknamed “The Three Amigos.”

The three amigos (Null, Santi, and Jethro) have all known each other since kindergarten. Null got to go to school early due to his intelligence (the kid is insanely fucking smart), while Jethro and Santi are the same age, and they all became friends because their moms all know each other and made them hang out a lot as young kids.

The school's mascot is the “Dandy Lion” and Red Manuel is the dumbass who agreed to wear the suit for school events. He thinks it makes him a celebrity; it definitely doesn't.

Omg, I almost fucking forgot about Don Paragon.

Don Paragon considers himself to be a theatre star of some kind, because he literally only got the lead part once in a middle school play, and he has yet to stop bragging about it.

Don's also a huge fucking bully, and has been harassing both Hunter and Skout since elementary school; he's actually one of the people Skout beat the crap out of back when she didn’t care about holding back, so he low-key fears her, but he'll pick on Hunter whenever he can catch him alone; luckily, Hunter doesn't end up alone very often, thanks to the three amigos, as well as Toth shadowing him when Skout asks her to keep an eye on Hunter in order to keep him safe.

(On another note, about halfway through high school, Don Paragon challenges Hunter to a fight after school, and of course everyone comes out to see this shit. Don shows up first with a switchblade, and everyone’s scared he’s gonna fuck Hunter up, but then Hunter shows up with a fucking pitchfork. Needless to say, Don backed down and Hunter was now known as “the guy who brought a pitchfork to a knife fight” instead of just being the mute kid.)

Hunter and the three amigos are considered to be outcast's at school, but none of them are particularly bothered by this; they all can often be found chilling together during lunch, passing around a notebook so Hunter can talk to them easier. By senior year, the three amigos have all fully learned sign language, which they use not only to talk with Hunter, but get away with joking around in class with each other.

Before then though, Null was the only one who knew sign language, and became friends with Hunter first. Through this, Null invited Hunter to their friend group, but despite them all obviously being friends, other kids at school still mostly referred to them as “The Three Amigos + Hunter”; this annoys Null to no end, but Hunter swears he doesn't mind (he does, but he’ll never admit it).

The four of them eventually form a band that plays primarily at school dances and weekend parties. The band was almost called The Three Amigos, but Null insisted they name themselves something else in order to include Hunter. Santi came up with calling themselves “The Nomads of Nowhere”, which sticks. Hunter plays guitar (Adrian taught him how), Jethro plays keyboard, Santi plays drums, and Null sings.

Hunter is constantly being followed by animals of some kind, so instead of creating Critters, he attracts animals to himself (mainly stray cats, which he feeds daily).

The family has a few pets of their own: a black cat named Nomad (Hunter's therapy cat), a brown tabby cat named Critter (Ben found it as a kitten and gave it to Skout when Hunter got his cat), and a black Labrador named El Rey (Adrian's dog that he's had since he was a young teenager… no one knows how it's still alive, not even Adrian).

Post-high school headcanons for everyone:

After the twins graduate, Skout goes to a university in their state with Toth, who she's still dating. Hunter, in the meantime, goes to community college for awhile, and still lives at home, later moving out to live with the three amigos.

Toth proposes to Skout during their sophomore year, but they don't officially get married until after they both graduate. Everyone in Skout’s family sobs (Melinda’s her maid of honor) and Toth’s family is also cheering like mad. The after party is more or less a fucking rave, and the cops almost get called because they’re all so goddamn loud.

Skout becomes a biologist, but still constantly visits the library she worked at in college. Her specialty lies in forest preservation, and later on she starts working in a national park.

Toth becomes a historian, specializing in old weapons and war strategy. She also has a degree in psychology, but she doesn’t really do much with it tbh (other than mess with Red, who after getting his act together, becomes one of her closest friends).

Hunter becomes a musician, and as a side gig works as a sort of “cat whisperer” to make extra money and tell people they’re dumbasses who shouldn’t own cats.

The Nomads of Nowhere actually stick together for a long time after high school, and become a semi-popular indie band. After a few years though, they disband so Jethro and Santi can do their own things, so Hunter and Null form a two-man band called “The Dreaded Nomads.” After that, their music gets a lot more popular, but they’re still considered indie.

Oh yeah, almost forgot; Hunter and Null started dating in secret early on in high school. They mostly kept it a secret because they were both self-conscious about being judged by their peers, but they came out by going to their junior homecoming dance together. Everyone (except Skout and Melinda, who Hunter had already told) were surprised, but of course Hunter’s parents were all supportive. Null’s folks were… not, but at least he then got the chance to live with Santi’s family!

After high school, Hunter and Null are still going strong, and while neither of them are really comfortable with getting officially married for personal reasons, they plan on staying together for the rest of their lives. Also after high school, Null’s still no contact with his family for the most part (save for his mom), but Hunter’s family accepts him with open arms!

Santi and Jethro were dating since fucking middle school, and literally no one is surprised when they get hitched the day after graduation; if they have a kid and they’re a boy, they’re naming him Null Jr and Null will be secretly touched but act mad.

That’s all I’ve got for now! I might add more later, but feel free to add your own headcanons/ideas if you’d like to!

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