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otp-holic · 3 years

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The one place (where something happened) (A03)

“In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, where something happened, and then there are all the other places.” Alice Munro. (or the one where they receive a letter from a familiar name and we go into 4Ks of fluff around a lost afternoon in France)

4K. Lamely explicit at one point. Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Trigger for FLUFF as the main plot. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

This was supposed to be a manip with 200 words of bantering and it's now 4Ks of fluff with a few pictures. I've decided to leave them inside the cut because I feel they work better with its context there. I'm sorry for the hassle, but I really hope you give this a chance... unless you have cavities, only like fics with amazing plots or are allergic to shameless fluff.

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

DAGUERROTYPE, France 1944 Private Collection.

Steve is cooling down from his very early run, enjoying the feeling of the pink sunrise looming over the awakening Brooklyn streets as he walks the last couple of blocks on the way home, when his phone beeps.

“Check your actual mailbox, we dropped something for you there. I think you should appreciate us making it old-fashioned just for you, grandpas!”

Steve smiles at Sam’s text and as soon as he arrives at their building he snaps a picture of the very common and flat envelope with “Barnes&Rogers” scribbled on top of a Stark Logo, to send along his response.

“Nice try, but this is inaccurate. A letter would have never made its way to us without an address or stamp. We’ll send you a proper thank you card to show you how it’s done.”

He can’t help but chuckle at his own joke rereading the text while he opens the door, and when he looks up from his phone and into the kitchen, he is received by a sleepy Bucky looking at the coffee machine like he looks at Steve during their most soft and embarrassingly cheesy moments.

“You love that thing more than you love me, confess it.”

“In the mornings? Yes. I don’t even like you in the mornings most of the time,” he answers matter of factly. “Want some?”

Steve playfully wiggles an eyebrow.

“No way. Your sweaty self is tempting, but coffee smells better. I might join you in the shower later.” Bucky offers him one of the two cups he has poured and he notices the envelope Steve is holding. “What is that?”

“We’ve got mail!” He hands it to Bucky. “I have no idea what's on it, but Sam texted me to say they had something delivered to our mailbox and there it was. Open it.”

Bucky leaves the cup on the counter, face sparked with a curiosity that makes him look twenty-one (and Steve weak on the knees), and goes for it.

The content is a bit underwhelming at first glance: Another envelope, white, no Stark logo, but topped with a bright green post-it with a note on Pepper’s script.

“This got to me via PR. We analyzed it and checked with the source (no peeking, I swear) and it seems legit. With that return address, it’s likely to arouse your interest. Love, P.”

Bucky tears off the post-it and the letter is revealed to be addressed to Steve Rogers at the Stark Tower, but it is when they turn it around when everything goes still for a second.

The return address is some street in Marseille, but what has Steve’s mouth dry and Bucky’s hand trembling just a bit is the combination of the place and the name written on top: Emmanuelle Jaques Dernier.

“Boom?”, Bucky says, trying to cut through their heavy hearts and taking Steve’s hand. It’s a terrible terrible joke, but Dernier would have loved it and he grins.

“That’s a terrible terrible joke,” Steve verbalizes, “but I think at least we’ve reached the same conclusion.”

“Elementary, my dear Steve,” Bucky answers as he opens the second envelope, only to reveal a folded letter and yet another envelope. “It’s a fucking vault of paper!”

Steve takes the letter from him, unfolds it, and quickly scans it (normal office paper, printed, hand-signed) before he starts reading it out loud to Bucky’s undivided attention.

“Dear Mr. Rogers,

My name is Emmanuelle Dernier and I am the great-grandson of Jaques Dernier of the Howling Commandos.

First, let me tell you that we all in our family grew up with amazing stories and praise for you, Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the team. I never got to meet my great-grandfather or any of them (you), but I’ve always felt like I did.

In fact, that’s the ultimate reason behind this letter: I ached to honor him and I’ve been putting in order all his remaining letters, pictures, and memories so they don’t get lost forever, and there are many things I’m discovering through this journey. So many pictures and tiny details… and amongst them, you and the rest of the Commandos appear at the most random and memorable moments. Nothing that’s going to make it into history books, more like the stories my grandpa used to share with us over and over again, those important tidbits that make him more human.

Anyway, I was going through the pictures he kept when I came across some war photos that didn’t seem to match the 40s timeframe. Typical daguerreotypes from the 20s in a very bad state, probably taken with a camera from the era in 1944 and developed on a later date by somebody who clearly didn’t master the technique.

They were in a very bad state and hidden inside an envelope that said “Terribly drunk soldiers in France making idiots of ourselves in unique and creative ways. Fun evening, horrible hangover. About 20 miles west of the Maginot Line. Autumn ‘44”. I’m attaching a photocopy of that, I hope you can understand my decision to keep the original.

After restoring the daguerreotypes with some experts, all I got were five very bad pictures with silhouettes of people apparently having fun…. but there was one that got a lot better in the cleaning process that feels important somehow. I’m sending the original, as well as the restored version I got.

I, of course, don’t have the whole context, but I hope it brings back a good memory. My great-grandpa might be in the picture, but I don’t think this one belongs to my family or to a museum.

Thank you for your service, I really hope this letter finds its way to you.

E.Dernier.”

“I can’t believe… Steve, most days I’m convinced that day and that place are a figment of my imagination,” Bucky smiles, remembering. “When I think of a moment of pure joy during the war, I think about that afternoon in France, and it always feels unreal. A bubble of air and laughter while we were so surrounded by death.”

Steve nods, reminiscing about that warm and humid September morning when they arrived at yet another abandoned and destroyed little village, this one about twenty miles west of the Maginot Line. They had orders to lie low and wait for twenty-four hours before they started the maneuver to wipe another Hydra base off the map, and that little town was perfect for that.

Among bomb debris and fallen walls, they found one small building miraculously standing next to the remains of the church, so they decided to set camp under a roof for a change since the weather was being a little flickery with the rain, and they had the rare luxury of time.

The inside of the tiny house was as unusual as the outside: nothing was destroyed beyond being dusty and worn by time, and everything they found (furniture, kitchenware, and even fabrics) belonged more to Steve and Bucky’s early childhoods than to 1944, a living museum frozen in time.

Only it was not a museum, but the parish house left untouched and non-raided: old-fashioned clothes, outdated church books, yellowing clergy collars, and, of course, the wine cellar. Oh, that wine cellar… the havoc it unleashed.

“I remember the absolute excitement when Falsworth found all those bottles of old unscathed mass wine from the parish,” Steve brings his memory to words, looking at Bucky, “I’m still a little convinced that we are going to hell for drinking them.”

“Not for that, probably, but it was a wonder nobody died on the spot of wine poisoning, it tasted like sweet vinegar, ugh.”

“But it did his part, right? Took our minds off things; got us drunk, bold and silly.” Steve answers.

“Apparently not all of us,” Bucky says very seriously, looking at Steve.

“Technicalities… I got drunk by proxy. Seeing you all so happy made me giddy and tipsy, too.”

“I came and went… I remember being a little surprised at the clarity of my thoughts at some moments there when some of the guys were basically drooling on the floor. Now I understand, of course.”

Steve squeezes his hand, not much to be said there.

They were already way too drunk by the early afternoon, drinking to the sound of a sudden rainstorm pouring outside. All of them scattered across the small dusty living room and its adjoining kitchen while they went through all the bottles of wine they had been able to find. Cheering for the foregone priest every time somebody raised a glass, and laughing as if there were no ruins or war on the other side; just silly men (boys, really) laughing their hearts out.

“Earth to Steve… I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see what the hell that envelope is hiding. Especially now that we know about its time stamp.”

“I’m sorry, me too! Gabe drunkenly handling that old camera and those glass plaques the way he did? I’m honestly impressed that he was able to take any pictures at all,” he muses. “Shit, is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“I’m gonna save us the bantering because I’m nervous, too,” Bucky answers in all sincerity. “Truth is, Steve, I remember everything about that day.”

It’s a new admission, a newly opened door for them because for some reason, they have never talked about that peaceful surreal afternoon, and Steve nods in recognition as he silently goes for the envelope one-handed, not wanting to let go of Bucky’s hand because his surface is way cooler than his wrenching insides. Maybe the picture is an overexposed french wall but maybe…

The photo he extracts from the envelope is clearly the original and damaged one Emmanuelle specified in his letter. Anybody else looking at it would see nothing beyond Dernier’s blurry profile, but since Steve and Bucky were there when this was taken, they know exactly what moment Steve is holding in his hand.

“Buck,…” is all Steve can say, struck by the blurry keepsake.

Later in the afternoon when they had already consumed most of the wine and there was not a single coherent thought left in the room, one of the guys took the parish books and besottedly announced that there was a wedding set for today… thirty years ago. Alcohol fueled a goofy idea that escalated at the speed of light, with Morita saying they were going to a wedding because they deserved a celebration, Dernier confessing that he had once considered becoming a priest, and Dum-dum bringing out all the old fashioned clothes from the wardrobe and deciding they were getting nice and clean for the festivities.

“That’s clearly Dernier in the picture killing it in his priest role, right?” Bucky says, half smiling and interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “You know, I went all-in with that fake wedding party. I was laughing to tears when I saw you put on that ridiculously long and ill-fitting jacket from the 10s, feeling weightless and silly for the first time since sailing off, and God knows we all deserved that. And it was all safe and light-hearted until fucking Morita decided you had to be the groom, and...”

“Were you jealous because I won the dashing groom competition?”

Steve’s attempt at a joke is weak, but there’s truth behind it: Morita chose Steve as the groom (“Cap, you are the most dashing and the least drunk”) to a chorus of excited voices cheering for him. Somebody else, most likely Dum-Dum, chose the rest of the roles (Sarge, best man duty; Jones, camera; Morita, keep the wine flowing; the rest of you, misbehave!) and in the blink of an eye, they were all going outside laughing under a light rain, and about to celebrate Steve’s fictional wedding to nobody.

“How could I be jealous?” Bucky cuts in. “Do you remember all you said to me that afternoon? During World War II and in front of a battalion of men?”

“I was drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky disentangles his hand from Steve’s to use both of them to hold Steve’s face and kiss him with violence. “Tell me. Do you remember what you said?”

As if he could ever forget. He can recall every step he took from the house to the makeshift wedding spot amidst the trees where his best man (looking dapper even in that ludicrous jacket) was laughing along Dernier. He can still smell the petrichor, can still sense the blush coloring his cheeks while hoping nobody noticed and can still hear the beating of his heart when Bucky handed him a battered umbrella (“You don’t deserve to get rained on your wedding day, punk”) and a fucking ring made out his shoelaces (“You’ll have to buy something a little more permanent.”). And then…

“Dernier started the ceremony and he wanted to know if I had somebody in mind and I said ‘of course’.” He replays, his voice barely a whisper. “I said I’d had my eyes on a brown-haired Brooklynite since before I could remember. I said that I was pretty sure those blue eyes were set on mine too and that hopefully those eyes would be set enough to want to marry me even if I had never dared to ask.”

He’s been holding Bucky’s gaze the whole time, and he’s far from over yet, but he needs to fucking breathe before he goes on. Neither of them has moved a muscle for the past minute.

“Then he asked me to repeat the wedding vows after him and…”

“And you said Buck, right?”, Bucky interrupts, voice winded. “You fucking whispered I take you, Buck, as my lawful wedded husband till the end of the line. I heard, Steve. Even if the rest of the world didn’t, I did. But you never said anything, so I always deemed it impossible, a product of the corniest nook of my mind trying to outweigh all those bad things, because not even you could be as bold, reckless, and mushy as to do that,…it’s my fucking fault, I should have known better!”

“Not completely reckless, pal. I was scared shitless as I said those words, but what else could I do? You were right by my side about to put a ring on my finger as my “best man”, everyone, including you, supposedly drunk past recollection, and everybody else too far away to hear my whispers. It was such an easy choice in the end because truth should always win over fear. And those vows were. The truth.”

“You have always been too honest for your own good, Rogers,” Bucky is breathless and exasperated and goes for his mouth again, bringing in all he (they) couldn’t in 1944. “You destroyed me, Steve. My knees were as weak as a teenager’s in front of his first crush. I wanted to kiss you so badly when I heard you say all that there in the open… and I couldn’t even acknowledge it.”

“I know. And for what it's worth, I really thought you didn’t remember.”

It is too much. Is it normal to feel this much? Steve would blame it on the serum enhancements, but he was already overwhelmed at 16, so that’s clearly not the answer.

He craves, no, he needs touching, grounding, closer. Bucky. There’s too much space between them even if they are back to kissing like they would have that day in 44, and at any other time if their own lives wouldn’t have stolen those moments from them.

“It happened.” Bucky whimpers, biting on Steve’s lip who abandons his own stool to straddle him, both of them gasping in sync at the feeling of their cocks, hard against each other’s through their soft pants.

Bucky soon ups the stakes by carding his metal hand through Steve’s hair pulling his head backwards to help himself into that spot on his neck.

“Same two moles as when you were tiny, as when we were at that war... Your cute vampire bite. Favorite spot.” He licks on them with the tip of his tongue. Steve growls on cue and Bucky giggles. “Favorite chain reaction.”

“Buck, you cheater, you know what that does to me!” Steve cries out followed by Bucky’s evil chuckle.”Bed, couch, countertop,…I don’t care, but naked. Now. Stained pants due to heavy petting are too much of a trip down memory lane for me. Let me keep a bit of my dignity.”

Steve stands up liberating Bucky from his grip but aching at the loss of contact.

They are naked and making out in the middle of the kitchen in no time; Bucky steadily pushing him against the refrigerator while fiercely grinding against his crotch.

“Hey, ‘teve,” Bucky pants. “The way this is going, it’s my dignity now that's at risk. I don’t think I can make it further than the floor before I come.”

Steve groans into his mouth just at the thought and they start sliding to the floor the best they can until he’s a human blanket moving over Bucky. With no lube at hand, and no time, that’s their best option.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, his hands not leaving Bucky’s sweaty hair. Bucky’s hands on his ass, forcing their groins closer with one while he (almost absently) plays around his hole with the other, driving Steve crazy in the process. Dicks left to do their own thing through pressure and friction. Everything is working. And fast.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky exclaims “Can you promise me all this stuff with the letter was real and not a long-con plan to assure your fragile masculinity that I love you more than I love that espresso machine?”

That. That silly unfunny excuse of a joke that screams Bucky all over is what pushes Steve all the way over the edge. He fucking laughs as he comes making absolutely embarrassing sounds, pressing their foreheads and noses together until it hurts, and shaking from head to toe without stoping his pressure on the stupid and smug man under him. His lover. His partner. His unofficial husband. His best friend.

His Buck.

“There’s still too much blood in your brain if you can play that dirty,” Steve states, placing one hand between them grabbing Bucky’s hard cock. “Let’s see if I can do anything about it.”

“Your hand, usually so helpful, but I was already following you after that sound you make when you come and laugh at the same time, shit, it always goes straight to my dick, I’m,…” he keeps talking with difficulty between breaths and moans until he leaves his speech unfinished coming all over Steve’s fist.

They kiss on the lips breathing into each other before Steve rolls over. They are sticky and panting in silence, spread on their kitchen’s floor, Steve’s shoulders crushed between Bucky’s and the dishwasher. Domestic bliss at its most literal.

One lavish fuck and two showers later they reemerge into the kitchen in search of something to eat: Bucky is in charge of the food today, while Steve cleans the mess they left a couple of hours ago.

He’s decluttering the counter when their damaged picture laying there puts a smile on his face but also reminds him of the restored version presumably still waiting inside the disregarded letter, so he grabs the envelope to retrieve its contents: one photocopy (from Dernier’s original writing), and the promised photo.

And it is restored. Everything is clear where it was blurry before: Dernier (so deep into his priest impersonation that he’s not even looking at them), the trees, the battered umbrella, the ridiculous jackets… and them.

“You had the nerve to call me reckless and mushy, Buck?” Steve laughs as he stares at the picture where a very young Bucky is about to put a ring on his finger with the least subtle lovestruck expression he’s ever seen (“and it’s for you”, his brain proudly reminds him) “Wow, you might as well be kissing me there, anything would be more subtle than this!”

“Don’t shame me, you punk, especially not when you were the one responsible for breaking my brain back then!” Bucky answers coming from behind and stealing the picture from his hands to scrutinize it. Goofy grin and raging blush quickly taking over his face. “But you’re one to talk, Cap. You are gazing at that shoelace’s ring as if I were handing you a diamond tiara!”

Steve laughs softly at that and moves his right hand to his pocket, feeling the weight of the little compass he had retrieved earlier from one of his drawers. He used to carry it with him everywhere for comfort, but he has a better option now.

“Didn't you know that shoelaces are forever?” He asks, taking the compass out of his pocket and holding it in both hands as he opens it, nudging Bucky with his elbow to get his attention.

Bucky is confused for an instant while he looks at his young face staring at them from inside the little box. Of course he knew that (he made fun of Steve for days and days) but Steve detects the change in his expression when he notices the other thing.

“Wow, you gigantic sap,” Bucky says, taking the compass out of his hands to double-check he is seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. “You saved my shoelace.”

He had. While they were all celebrating his wedding under the rain dancing to no music, he quietly slipped the little string off his finger and tied it to the most secure place he had back then.

“It’s not a shoelace, you jerk, it’s a symbol. A declaration.” He laughs, stealing the compass back to safely pocket it again.

“You are delusional,” Bucky snorts, kissing the top of his head. But he’s widely smiling and lost in thought as he goes back to their sandwiches.

Steve stays on the spot enjoying the peace in their silent companionship, his focus on the latest news showing up on his phone, the text he’s writing to Sam and the comforting sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen.

“You might have married me, but I never actually married you.” Bucky blurts out of the blue a bit later, sitting by his side as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and some grilled greens on it. “Do you want mayo with that?”

“Uh?” Steve forgets all about the news and the text and looks at Bucky in confusion.

“Mayo, do you want some?” Bucky repeats nonchalantly.

“No mayo, thank you; but I was actually more interested in the other part, you know, that thing about marriage?”

Bucky looks him in the eye: earnest, blushing and with the same look of smug adoration he had on the picture.

“Oh, that part.” He jokes. “You apparently married me in 1944, but I never married you back. And I would like to.”

“Marry me?” Steve asks and Bucky visibly nods.

“I’m sorry for throwing the idea at you like this, books tell me I'm supposed to have candles, music, and a ring, but you showed me that restored picture and I couldn't stop thinking about it, about proof,” Bucky speaks uncharacteristically slow and very softly, voice trembling here and there while he claps his hand with Steve’s finger by finger for reassurance and as a distraction. “A single photo had the power to transform a moment that existed just as a made-up happy place inside my mind into something tangible and real. Something that would be tangible and real for anybody getting a hold on it and looking at our stupid faces.”

“So stealthy,” Steve says, and they both laugh together.

“Proof, Steve. I was slicing tomatoes and thinking how there’s so much evidence, thousands of files! out there proving that all the stuff that fuels my nightmares were real, but nothing solid about this. Us.” Bucky stops for a moment collecting his thoughts, still smiling even with the heavy subject he just dropped into the mix. “Sorry, I believe I put more time into these sandwiches than into thinking this all the way through so I’m…”

“Take your time, we’ve gone from mayo to marriage to nightmares in five minutes so don’t worry, you have me hooked here.”

Steve makes Bucky laugh again as he intended, and he feels their calloused laced fingers immediately squeezing closer.

“It’s stupid because it doesn’t change anything for us but,.. I don’t fucking know, Steve, I think that picture has messed up with my mind! I instantly found comfort in the idea of people finding facts beyond the nightmares now or in the future. An easy to understand, universal and oversimplified proof of how much I loved you and how much I was loved in return.” Bucky takes a breath and stares at him sporting a million-watt smile. “Marrying you,… I would really love that. And for real this time.”

“Ok, Buck.” Steve instantly replies, eagerness winning over thoughtful and heartfelt declarations. He tightens the grip on their joined hands to drive them to his lips and seals the easiest answer he’s ever had to give.

And it's done!Sorry for the cavities, for going on with the fic when it should have ended and for ending it where it might have had to keep going. It was painful and fun. I'm free!

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gamerwoo · 3 years

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Hongseok: Bittersweet (part 3 -- mommy hui)

Summary: You were looking for a sugar daddy to make more money. Hongseok was looking for a sugar baby to get his friends off his back. But once you find out what he’s using you for, you don’t want anything to do with him. Unfortunately, you love his money more than you hate him.

a/n: timestamps don’t matter!!! i also have no idea what like decent prices are for this shit so just roll w me here lmao

Previous | Next | Bittersweet Masterlist

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Of course Hongseok wasn’t actually going to get a girlfriend. Luckily for him, he was not only handsome, but also smart. He quickly came up with the idea that he could simply just make his friends think he got a girlfriend so they’d get off his back. But he also knew he didn’t have any friends who were women who would agree to help, and he knew any girl he had spoken to previously would just tell him to go fuck himself if he asked any of them -- and there was no way in hell he’d let any of those girls think they were actually his girlfriend. He needed to find a way to get a girl to go on dates with him while still making sure no romantic lines were crossed.

Again, Hongseok was a smart man, and he had money to spare, so his plan didn’t take long to come up with.

He wanted to get some assistance with his plan, but he had nobody he could tell. Hui and Jinho couldn’t know for obvious reasons, Wooseok, Shinwon and Yanan would just tell everyone else to get him in trouble, Changgu probably wouldn’t listen anyway, and Kino and Yuto were a no-go because they’d just be disappointed in him and would probably eventually let it slip to everyone else. This was something he’d just have to do on his own.

Hongseok searched up a few sugar daddy websites before picking one he found to be the most reliable and least sketchy. This one seemed to have better options, stronger background checks, and overall just seemed to be the safest bet. So he made a profile under sugar daddy and waited for a message or whatever.

It didn’t take long for him to get some inquiries, but he didn’t like any of them. They either weren’t his type or were interested in things he wasn’t looking for. Or they just came on too strong, which was automatically a no from him. He wanted someone he’d consider ‘normal’. Basically wasn’t overly-sexual, was just looking to go on a few ‘dates’ or whatever, and wouldn’t actually call him daddy. But they also had to be someone he’d consider cute or good looking, and it seemed like those two things he was looking for didn’t come hand-in-hand.

At least, not until he got one message around 7:30pm a few days after making the account. He was just hanging out in his apartment and doing what he usually did when he had finished his classes. Then he saw the email notification come up that he had a message from the sugar daddy website, so he went over to his laptop and opened the tab he left.

snflwr: hi!! um i don’t know how to really start this but my name is _____. i feel weird saying i’m interested in like your profile and stuff but i guess that’s basically what it is. uhhhhh yeah lmao i’m sorry i’ve never done stuff like this before

It honestly seemed to be the most normal message he’d gotten. Every other girl was always very straight-forward, but this one seemed to come from someone who was nervous and unsure about what to say. Somehow, he liked that over the overly-confident ones.

He clicked on the little circle for the profile picture to make it pop up on his screen. Not everyone used photos of themselves -- most of the sugar daddies did for obvious reasons, but not a lot of the sugar babies did -- but he always just asked for selfies if that were the case. In this case, the one he was looking at was a photo of their lips.

He went to the profile and read over it. _____ _____, 2 years younger than him, lived in the same area, liked to play video games, and was just looking for someone to spend time with. So far, so good. But it was still such little information that he still couldn’t tell if this person would be normal or not.

yanghong: That’s okay, I’m new to the sugar daddy thing as well lol. Do you mind if I see a photo of you first?

The photo that was sent was at least pleasing to look at. He thought the girl was very cute, actually, but he still had to be positive it was actually her. He could easily be catfished. He wasn’t stupid.

snflwr: can you also prove that’s you in the pfp? lmao

snflwr: no offense but i wouldn’t put it by some old dude to use a younger good looking guy w a six pack to catfish women

Hongseok couldn’t help but chuckle at that. She was funny, too. That was good.

yanghong: Would you want to Facetime? That would definitely prove we’re who we say we are.

It took longer than before for snflwr to reply, but he eventually just got a ‘sure’, followed by her information to contact her. He grabbed his phone to start the call before another message popped up.

snflwr: i’ll be honest, i’m really nervous, so my friend is gonna talk to you first. so like don’t hang up when you see a dude answer lmao that’s not me

Hongseok had to admit, that seemed just a little sus, but sure. So he started the Facetime call and waited.

Sure enough, when they picked up, there was a guy with a black baseball cap on, his blonde hair peeking out through the sides.

“Oh damn, it is him,” he chuckled, looking off camera before looking back at Hongseok. “I’m ______’s friend, Soonyoung. I wanted to make sure you were legit first. She’s...well, she’s shy.”

“But she’s looking for a sugar daddy?” Hongseok chuckled. “Why would she want to go hang out with a stranger if she’s shy.”

Soonyoung just shrugged, “Can’t be too picky in this economy.”

“Lemme see!” another male voice called before a second boy popped his head in frame. This one had cotton-candy-blue hair, and was wearing a brown visor with the name of a local cafe embroidered on it. “Whoa, you are real. I really had my money on you being a creepy old guy.”

“Okay, well now that you know I’m legit,” Hongseok began, “can I actually see that _____ is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Soonyoung replied before handing the phone over.

Hongseok only saw a few empty tables in the cafe before he suddenly saw your face on screen, your eyes still looking up at the two boys from where you sat. You were laughing a little timidly at someone one of them was doing behind the phone before your eyes settled on the screen.

Thank god, it was the same girl that was in the photo.

“Hi, sorry about that,” you said. Your voice wasn’t necessarily what he expected, but it wasn’t like it was anything bad. It was just...normal. Nothing annoying to listen to or anything. “But uh, yeah. I’m real.”

“Good,” he chuckled. “So tell me a little more about yourself. What do you do for work?”

“Technically, I’m a streamer,” you shrugged, “but it’s only because I’m a full-time student. But obviously it’s not making a lot of money since I’m here doing this.”

Hongseok laughed, “Yeah, I don’t even have a job right now. My parents just make a lot of money, and I’m supposed to take over for my dad when he retires. I’m also a full-time student.”

Neither of you decided to ask where the other went to college because that seemed too personal, especially considering what your arrangement was -- well, hopefully would be.

“So you’re just looking to spend time together?” Hongseok checked. “Not offering anything more?”

“Nope,” you replied. “I don’t really want to do any of the stereotypical stuff you hear about. I’m not...comfortable with that, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly okay,” he nodded. “So...I guess we should talk about how it would all work out then?”

“Yeah, what’s the deal?”

What Hongseok was looking for was proof. Proof that he had a girlfriend, so he needed to make it seem like he did. Going out on dates, texting, stuff like that. Stuff where he could give photo evidence that you existed if his friends asked.

“Just go out with me like, once a week if your schedule allows it,” he explained. “You don’t have to call me or anything, but some texts would be appreciated. You don’t have to talk to me everyday, but don’t just like, ignore me for a week, y’know?”

You shrugged with a nod, “That seems reasonable. I’m down.”

“Okay, so we should talk money, then,” he chuckled. “I was thinking like, $800 a week -- assuming we do go out every week -- and I’ll pay for all of the dates on top of that. Otherwise, just $300 for talking to me every week. Sound fair?”

For a second, he thought he lost connection because you were just frozen on screen. $800 a week? That seemed too good to be true to you.

“U-um, yeah,” you stammered finally, making Hongseok smirk. “That sounds good.”

Perfect.

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yehet-about-it · 3 years

Photo

I Like Me Better | 23 - Bear Hugs

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiao Jun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

~ Updates now every Monday, Wednesday & Friday @ 9pm GMT/3pm CST

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Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter Warnings: A whole lot of fluff and a lil bit of smut towards the end... Sorry if you were expecting more smut but I legit cannot bring myself to write it for our smol boy 👀😅

Your shoulders ached as you shuffled into your living room having showered and made yourself just about presentable, compared to the sweaty state you were in earlier. You and some of your colleagues had been recruited for a stage at the Asia Song Festival this year and were now spending at least 8 hours a day in the studio practicing, hence why you felt like all the energy had been sucked from your body. Not that you could complain because it was a great opporunity, but 8 plus hours certainly took it out of you. What you really needed was cuddles, but since Yangyang wasn’t the huggy type and was out walking bella, and Kun was most likely still at work, for now you’d have to suffice with your oversized teddy.

You sigh as you waddle through the empty room, flopping down onto your imaginitively named Mr. Gom in the corner, wondering when Xiaojun would be here with your coffee, and just like magic, as soon as the thought pops into your head, the front door clicks and the man himself emerges from your hallway calling out to you.

“Y/n?” he calls, making his way into your living room, not having seen you tucked away in the corner, squished beneath your teddy bear’s oversized paw. “Here!” you call out, struggling to even lift your head, let alone stand up to greet him. Xiaojun’s face breaks out into a grin as he realises where the voice is coming from, his internal dialogue squealing over how incredibly endearing you look clinging onto the teddy in the corner.

“You okay down there?” he says with a tone of amusement, striding up to you, two cups of coffee in hand. You whine in response, indicating you are very much not okay and still laughing, Xiaojun sets the two coffees down on the table, taking his phone out and clicking a photo of you as you cuddle into your bear.

Hearing his phone camera click, you whip your head around, looking up at him with a pout. “Hey!” you whine, scowling at him with contempt, but seeing you curled up looking tiny next to the huge teddy bear Xiaojun can’t find it in him to put on a straight face and shrugs. “Heh, sorry, you looked kind of cute though.” Xiaojun chuckles, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Here.”

Xiaojun picks one of the coffees up off of the table and hands it to you. “You, xiaojun, are a life saver,” you utter, perking up a little as you graciously accept the warm creamy beverage from him, inhaling deeply as the rich scent of fresh coffee wafts up from your cup. Thank god you only live a five minute walk from Starbucks. “Oh you know, some do say I’m a bit of a hero,” he jokes, shrugging before picking up his own coffee from the table to sip on.

Crossing your legs, you rock yourself forward so you can stand up, being careful not to spill any of your coffee and wander over to sit on the couch. “So you were at Hendery’s?” You ask casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, we were working out this evening, which is why I’m all sweaty, so I’m gonna go take a shower, but we can hang out after if you like?” Xiaojun asks, downing the remnants of his coffee which he’d of course drank the majority of on his walk back. “Sure, thanks for the coffee!” You reply, smiling despite being a little disappointed that he wasn’t staying. “No problem, see you in a bit”.

Xiaojun turns, seeing himself out of your apartment, leaving you to sip on your latte alone. You weren’t usually that desparate for company, quite happy by yourself unlike Yangyang, but you’d had a long day and you were growing to realise that Xiaojun was someone you wanted to be around at times like this, so as the door clicks behind him, you can’t help but feel a little sad, half wishing he would just come back and sit in a cuddle pile with you and Mr. Gom.

You sit alone with your thoughts for a while, wondering when the hell Yangyang would be back from walking Bella until your phone lights up with an instagram notification. Opening it, you look in dismay as you realise that Xiaojun has posted the picture of you slumped against Mr.Gom. After scowling at it for a while though, you decide that in fact it’ really sort of cute. After all, there he was, a stubborn and supposed ‘tough guy’ posting a picture of you looking all tiny, slumped against a giant ass bear, which by definition was pretty damn adorable.

You giggle as the comments roll in from Xiaojun’s friends, mentally facepalming when Yangyang decides to bring up your morning routine of flopping down on the bear and refusing to move for ten minutes. A blush rises across your cheeks though as you receive a message from Xiaojun. You hadn’t quite been expecting that, but right now you’d give your right arm to be curled up next to him. Despite your best efforts, you smile as you read Xiaojun’s invitation for you to go upstairs, leaping to your feet as quickly as possible given your aching muscles and go to grab your sliders to flip flop up the stairs in.

As soon as you get upstairs you knock tentatively on the door before pushing it open and calling out to Xiaojun. You’d been in his apartment a couple times before now, so instead of waiting for him to answer you find your way into the aparment and straight to the living room where Xiaojun is sat waiting on his sofa, scrolling through netflix on the tv. His soft dark brown locks unstyled and messy, still a little damp from the shower and you have a struggle to control your thirst as he turns to peer at you, highlighting his surprisingly elegant side profile. “Hey,” he regards, as you shuffle towards him. “Come sit.” Xiaojun pats the space next to him continuing to scroll through what netflix has to offer and you go to join him, opting to sit close to him but not so close that you’re touching. You don’t want to come off too needy.

“Still tired?” he aks as you settle into the cushions. “Mhm.” You hum in response, showing a weary smile, but trying your best not too seem like you’re too tired to be there. Despite your apparent need for sleep, you’d rather cuddle up in front of a film with him than sit in your empty apartment scrolling through the same old crap on your phone until you passed out. “You want to just put a film on and chill then? I have a blanket” Xiaojun says, nodding towards a fuzzy grey throw draped across the end of the couch. “That sounds perfect right now” you sigh, your fingers nervously pulling at the hem of your top. “What do you want to watch?”

After a minute or so of debating what to watch, you settle on one of the marvel films, and whilst Xiaojun fiddles with the remote, adjusting the volume, you set about getting the blanket off the end so you can snuggle up for the film. As you throw the blanket over you, Xiaojun shifts back a little to put his arm around you and you snuggle against his chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world, which comes as a bit of a surprise, considering you’d never really done this with Xiaojun before. However, happiness bubbles up in your chest as you sink into his warmth and begin to relax, curling up comfily in Xiaojun’s arms. “Mm you smell nice” you hum, noticing the fresh citrussy scent, on him, presumably from his shower. Nestling your cheek into Xiaojun’s collar he chuckles, the vibrations reverberating through his chest. “A lot better than earlier for sure”.

The film is one you’ve both seen before, so although you were quiet to start with, eventually you begin talking and by now you’re no longer really paying much attention to the screen.

Whilst you babble on about this or that, you begin to feel Xiaojun’s thumb absent-mindedly stroking up and down your waist where your top had ridden up, the sensation of it delicately brushing against your cool skin sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. The action, whilst it slowly began to set your body alight also seemed to have the effect of relieving a good part of the tension that had built up in your muscles over the course of the day and you start melting even further into Xiaojun, feeling a sense of bliss wash over you. Xiaojun picks up on this, and his ministrations become more deliberate, now using his whole hand to caress your waist, the tips of his fingers dipping ever so slightly into your waistband, but not invasively.

At this point you’d finished whatever you’d had to say and were now just revelling in the warm feeling of being curled up against Xiaojun, the only sound to be heard the voices of captain america and presumably some other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the background.

Shifting your head to look up at Xiaojun, you find him looking not at the screen but straight back down at you, your faces just mere inches apart and whatever you had been thinking of saying completely vanished from your mid as Xiaojun’s head bobs down, pressing a light kiss to your lips. You smile against him as he pulls away, just barely leaving an inch between you. He seems to be hesitating for a moment, not entirely sure whether it’s okay to continue, but you can’t help but want more, so you angle yourself round a little, placing your free hand at the bottom of his neck, squeezing encouragingly and bring your lips back to his. Xiaojun, all too happy to return the kiss, quickly finds a rhythm, not fast, but slow and sensual, the exact kind of kiss you need in your tired hazy state.

As the kiss deepens, Xiaojun pushes you back slightly so you’re tucked into the corner of the couch beneath him, your legs draped over his and his hand, that until now had been resting innocently just above your knee, starts to softly knead at your flesh through your leggings, moving ever so slightly higher sending small jolts through your nerves to your core. “This is okay right?” He whispers, drawing away momentarily, and looking down at you with concern, his big chocolatey eyes baring into yours. You nod quickly, surrendering yourself to Xiaojun’s touch and letting out a small whine when he resumes, planting small, sensuous kisses up your jawline.

Soon the fingers that had been gently brushing across the skin of your waist begin to venture slowly down over your panties, getting further until they reach between your legs and you moan lightly, involuntarily arching your back into Xiaojun’s touch. This really hadn’t been where you were envisioning this night going, expecting just a wholesome evening of cuddles, since you and Xiaojun’s relationship wasn’t really at that stage yet, but honestly, you didn’t mind all that much.

You let out a gasp, gripping at the nape of his neck as Xiaojun suddenly pushes your panties aside, drawing one of his fingers through your slick testing to see if you might be ready for more. Finding that you’re plenty wet enough, the same finger swirls around your bud a few times before it’s removed completely. “Can I take these off?” He says huskily, fingering the waistband of your leggings and panties.

You almost nod, wanting to give into the desire bubbling up in your core, but you hesitate, wondering that perhaps you weren’t ready to take things that far just yet. Sure, you were getting a lot closer with Xiaojun by now, but you’d still only been on the one date and you were still trying to figure out exactly what you really wanted from this relationship. You weren't sure you wanted to cross that threshold until you were absolutely certain about it.

Sensing your hesitation, Xiaojun draws away slightly, respectfully allowing you space to breathe as you make up your mind. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I don’t want to rush you.” He whispers, continuing to rub soothing circles into your skin just above your pants. “I’m sorry,” you murmur back, having come to a conclusion. “Can we maybe just make out?”

Your bashful request makes Xiaojun giggle as you wear a sheepish expression, a teeny bit embarrassed you’d let it go so far only to cop out on him right when things were starting to get a bit steamy. But Xiaojun smiles back at you, running a hand through his hair as he sits up, taking his weight off you. “If that’s what you want, sorry if I got a bit ahead of myself” he admits.

Gently taking your hand, Xiaojun helps you sit up, before sliding you to sit on his lap facing him. Perhaps not the best position for seeing the tv screen, but by now the film was all but forgotten about, and it was the best position for making out in. “Sorry,” you reiterate, settling on his lap with your hands placed against his chest, taking note of the apparent abs that seemed to lie under his shirt. “It’s not you or anything, I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”

You speak softly wanting to reassure him he didn’t do anything wrong, looking down at him with adoring eyes, the lust you had felt momentarily starting to dissipate into affection. “That’s okay,” he replies, giving you a playful peck on the lips.

You respond in kind, flashing him a happy smile before choosing that moment to resume making out, your lips gently moving against his as his arms wrap around your waist in a bear-like hug holding you safely against him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body taking over as you relish in Xiaojun’s sweet embrace, feeling all your uneasiness and soreness from the day dissolving away, and xiaojun hums against your lips, apparently feeling the same.

“Hmm, perfect.”

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aconitemare · 4 years

Text

[jaydick] Before That, And Colder

Chapter Four

AO3

Previous Chapter

Dick kicks his foot in the air repeatedly, inspecting the pink flowers on his white Oxfords. He’s pretending to ignore the people around him — possibly, he is actually ignoring them, as the outlines of their bodies blur around his fancy footwear. He leans farther back on Jason’s desk, conjuring the picture of ease. To his left rests Jason’s Red Hood helmet in a gargoyle-fashion. Everyone here knows Jason Todd is the Red Hood, but Dick is just Richie Grayson, D-list celebrity. The sleeves of his pretentiously silk bomber jacket, embroidered with colorful roosters, slip slightly down his shoulder.

“Is this really the best time to be hiring people? Specifically this person?” This question comes from James — or “Wingman,” as Jason earlier informed him of. James is up-and-coming, bat-themed, Gotham-based vigilante who believes the Red Hood is absolutely critical to public safety. Dick has not yet shared this detail with Batman, having only received it an hour before this current meeting, but he’s hoping they’ll share a good laugh over that.

“No time like the present,” Jason says without much concern. He stands beside the desk, a few feet from Dick.

Dick catches James crossing his arms from the corner of his eyes. The defensive body language convinces him to focus more on the arrangement of people. Suzie Su still sits on the recliner, seemingly indifferent. Her sisters, one of which Dick recognizes as the waitress who intercepted him and Miguel earlier, flock around Su either on the couch or near her armrest; all except for Night, Dick’s blackjack dealer yesterday, who now occupies a distant corner of the room by herself. Miguel sits in the recliner opposite Suzie Su, playing with his tie. James stands the closest to Dick and Jason and busies himself with looking like he eats nails for breakfast.

“The son of Bruce Wayne is hardly a sound addition to the Outlaws,” James points out.

Suzie Su’s head swivels towards Jason. “Oh, no,” she says, suddenly invested, “Whatever ‘the outlaws’ is, count me out of it. I’m going legit, you promised!”

Jason takes a page from Dick’s book and seats himself on the corner of his desk. He grips the edge, knees spread, so that he looks like he’s riding a horse. For an unstably diverse crowd, he’s rather at ease at the head of it, Dick notes. Jason holds up a silencing finger and begins his address, “Firstly, the Outlaws are too legit for any mere mortal to handle, that includes you, Su, so stuff it. Secondly, James, you can also stuff it because no one’s inviting Richie Rich onto the team except you, it would seem.”

So, does that mean I don’t get to see the Super Secret Clubhouse and make friendship bracelets? Dick almost says. Instead, he receives a text alert and checks his phone to see Bruce left him a message.

What is your plan of action? it reads.

Dick quickly shoots back a non-committal text, wary of Jason sensing Batman’s concern through the phone. Luckily, Jason doesn’t pay Dick’s texting any mind, preoccupied with his stand-off against Wingman.

James persists, undeterred by Jason’s skilled dismissal. “Batman isn’t exactly in your corner, Todd. He is, however, in Wayne’s pocket. As is Richie Grayson.”

Dick frowns; his current persona is apparently no longer a good fit. He will need to adjust accordingly. Dick sits up straighter on the desk and tucks his legs. “I have my own funds, as a matter of fact,” he speaks up. Jason’s eyes slice into him — oh, right, Dick’s not supposed to talk while meeting the in-laws. Oh, well. He continues, “I work for the Bludhaven Police Department.”

Dick touches his jacket collar and inspects the interior fabrice. “I try to dress nice when there might be cameras so I don’t make Bruce look bad, but most of it’s bought off-price at Marshalls.” This last part is a lie as he rarely buys his own photo op clothes. Bruce has a personal stylist who keeps everyone’s wardrobe at the Manor stocked. Dick hit up his old bedroom on the way to the hotel.

“You’re a cop,” James repeats.

Dick holds back a wince. So much for Agent 37’s kick-ass undercover portfolio. “Every cop’s a little dirty in the ‘Haven,” he says, hopefully smoothly.

Unfortunately, James does not find this comforting. “So not only are you a cop who knows about the Iceberg’s business, but you’re not even a good cop?”

Dick points at Jason. “He murders people,” he deflects.

Jason sighs obnoxiously loud. “Richie has information and contacts,” Jason increases his volume when James looks like he wants to say something else, “neither of which are anyone’s business at the moment but mine. Believe it or not, but I’m pretty attached to my life, in both a literal and figurative sense, and so if I say the guy from that one lady-service Pantene commercial is going to keep my organs safely inside my body, rest assured, I have done my research.”

This standing ovation inspires Dick to wonder whether Jason saw that commercial on cable or some other venue. He tries and fails to imagine Jason watching Friends reruns. Maybe he caught it off some gun review video on Youtube. This is the kind of media Dick assumes Jason consumes.

“Great to know,” says Suzie Su flatly. “So, Richie, who’s trying to whack our boss?”

“No one yet. There have been no attempts on his life thus far,” Dick responds. Then, “Also, you can just call me Dick.”

“Shouldn’t be too tough,” Suzie Su remarks.

“The situation will escalate, though,” James states, “There is no doubt that Red Hood is the final target.”

“Correct. Which is why it’s important that we trust each other,” Dick says. He levels a gaze at everyone in the room except for James, which should indicate to him that he’s the object of criticism without presenting Dick as outwardly hostile. “If we are too busy suspecting each other without any evidence, we allow for outside threats to slip past our radar.” Dick can only hope they will take this to heart; it will be harder for him to investigate Jason’s people if they’re also investigating him.

“Truth,” Miguel agrees as he stands to his feet and walks towards Dick. “Although it kind of worked out for us this time, right? You following me, us following you?” As he approaches, he extends a hand and Dick dismounts from the desk. “Welcome to the team, Dick,” Miguel says, clapping Dick on the shoulder as they shake. His smile is warm and sincere. Dick feels an equally genuine grin spread across his face.

“Alright, alright,” Jason says, leaning from his spot on the desk to bat an arm at them. “What did I just say about teams, dude,” he gripes. Miguel shrugs rather blithely before he returns to his chair. Dick appreciates what he hopes will be the one easy-going personality in this tense bunch.

Jason claps his hands together and stands. “Okay, here’s the deal: I want someone always watching my vehicle for the next, fuck, two weeks, I guess? One week?” He looks to Dick for confirmation. Dick mouths, ‘longer.’ “One week to start, cool,” Jason locks in his answer. “I don’t mean from the cameras, as I really am hoping to catch this person ASAP and get back to my regularly scheduled gangbanging.”

Dick watches the crowd: Miguel gives a whoop, Suzie Su rolls her eyes, one of the sisters not standing in the corner laughs.

“So, that means I need you,” Jason flourishes his arm in the air and brings it dramatically down like a hammer, finger pointing sharply at Miguel, “to physically be in the parking lot.”

Miguel looks around in bafflement. “I’m the owner. That would look weird,” he says, gesturing towards himself.

Jason rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone is lining up for your autograph, too, now come off it. No one here is instantly recognizable except for me, and that’s mostly to do with the helmet,” Jason pats the helmet beside him emphatically, “giving me serious red Darth Vader vibes.”

Dick suppresses a laugh. Jason hears him anyway, but that turns out to be not so bad. Jason’s eyes flicker towards him but they’re absent of reproach, which is how Dick realizes he had expected to be growled at for his humor. But Jason made the joke, didn’t he? He goes so far as to smile, not threateningly, but pleasantly. Dick wants to call it soft even.

Jason’s eyes are back on the ragtag team within the second. He explains properly his reasoning to Miguel. “The subject’s abilities and target range are unknown to us. You’re our safest bet for handling whatever he might be capable of. And you can wear whatever you want.” Dick assumes that last bit is weighted with the implication of a supersuit, although Miguel’s secret identity may very well be known considering the lack of visible confusion on anyone’s face. Of course, that could just be indifference; no one in this room seems particularly interested in each other.

“If you see someone snooping, wait it out. If you see someone put something on my bike, apprehend them and bring them to me where I can then proceed to shoot their brains out,” Jason instructs. Dick tries to say something, but Jason says over his attempt, “If they’re guilty.”

“Not really the problem,” Dick mutters.

“The Su Brigade can, I don’t know, keep doing what you’re doing, I guess? Keep an eye on suspicious figures.”

Dick chimes in, “This time, however, immediately report to Jason or myself. Don’t rush in unless the threat is urgent. Don’t,” he motions to James, “text James, or whatever it is you guys did. That was sloppy and uncoordinated.”

James shifts his weight more evenly. Dick instantly recognizes the implicit challenge and straightens his back. “Text you, huh? What, you the boss now?”

Dick files through his possible responses, weighs the best tone to take, the stance to adopt. Should he pick up the gauntlet and try to assert dominance, or go for diplomacy? He doubts this will come to blows, but the direction he takes this could have later consequences, could affect Jason’s safety even in the long-run.

Dick almost misses the change in Jason’s posture, but it’s instantaneous. “He’s close enough,” Jason has already spoken, no longer leaning against the desk but standing with his hands deceptively plunged into his jeans pockets and his searing green eyes locked on James. “More the boss than you are, at any rate, so yeah, I’d text him.” He sounds almost casual, accent set in a lazy Gotham drawl, yet there’s an angered click to how he sets his teeth. He’s intimidating, alright, the sharp cut of his cheeks complementing his strong jaw. He’s quite Hollwood-esque actually, Dick thinks — at least before he realizes Jason is looking right back at him. Jason raises his eyebrows and spins his fingers in a prompting manner. “Well? Anything else you’d like to derail the meeting with, Dick?”

And just like that, Jason manages to personally undermine the power he just gave him. Dick is bordering on impressed, restrained only by his sudden irritation. Dick simply smiles and says, “You’re the boss.”

“Fantastic. James! How do you feel about interrogating people you can’t beat up?” Jason proposes to the next member of the non-team.

Dick thinks James could question people without beating them up just fine, especially after the practice he got in while interrogating Dick. James doesn’t comment on whether he’s up to the task, however, but replies, “Who am I interrogating?”

Jason grins and quickly bows his body. “A witness. Exciting, right? Unfortunately, no, not exciting. This will suck for you. Daniel Garcia, the second victim, should be at Gotham General Hospital — fingers crossed he has insurance, because otherwise you’ll have to find out where he lives and talk to him there.”

Dick could be projecting, but he thinks James puffs up his chest at this. “I can find anyone anywhere,” vows James.

“I’ve no doubt, buddy. I just would prefer he not have to relive everything the second he gets home because a stranger wants to hear the gory details,” Jason explains. His tone is slightly scolding. There might be some decency in him yet. Dick immediately feels guilty for being surprised. Jason is a good guy. A good guy. He’s said as much to Bruce. Did he forget to tell himself the same thing?

“Bring some flowers to soften things,” Dick suggests.

“Flowers don’t soften a crowbar, Dick,” Jason disagrees. Still, he adds for James, “But yeah, bring flowers. The family won’t like you for it, but they’ll hate you even more if you don’t.”

“Do we have to do anything?” Suzie Su asks, a little unhappily, it would seem. Dick doesn’t trust her. Then again, would she be so openly disloyal if she was double-crossing? The only person in this room Dick trusts is Miguel — and even then, if there’s one thing Batman has been trying to drill into him for half his life, it’s that trust is a liability. Anyone here could logically be a mole. Anyone here could be loyal, too.

“No, Suzie Su, I expect absolutely nothing from you and that’s why I dragged you to a staff meeting, so you could sit on your ass and pick at your nails,” Jason intones. Suzie Su drops her manicured nails to her lap and glares at him. Jason sticks his tongue out in response. “You and your lovely sisters of questionable bloodline are my ears to the ground.”

“So, same as before?”

Jason cocks his head, shakes it up and down as if weighing the question, and says, “K-i-i-i-i-nd of? It’s like what you were doing before, but not complete garbage. Need I remind you that you let this idiot into my office.” Jason jabs his thumb in Dick’s direction.

Miguel raises his finger. He’s properly relaxed in his cushiony recliner, legs crossed and arms spilling over the back. “Ah, but you let the idiot stay,” he reminds Jason.

Dick twists his lips. “Thanks, Miguel. Or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Jason decides. “Alright, everyone out of my office and onto the things I demand of you. Dick, you’re coming with me.”

The crowd is already dispersing. Dick hops off the desk and pats the wrinkles from his pants. “Why’s that? I thought you didn’t want me breathing down your neck.”

Jason’s back is to Dick as he fastens his Red Hood helmet over his head, which tips Dick off that some of his people outside the office might still not know who’s under the mask. Jason’s response is rougher than before. “You saw the tapes, didn’t you?” The energy from only a minute ago has melted from his voice. The helmet lights up then and Jason’s next words are modulated, shrouded in static. “That makes you the expert.”

Dick does not miss the irony of this statement.

___________

Dick has Jason drive him to Bludhaven. Jason has many cars and not a single one is worth less than $80,000. “How do you blend in?” Dick asked on the way to his shitty apartment across the pond, Jason looking absolutely put-upon by the half-hour drive. His Red Hood helmet has been stowed away in a personally customized, hidden compartment. “I don’t,” Jason simply replied. Dead guys, according to Jason, don’t need to feign poverty. Especially if those dead guys are better known for their underground empires and resort casinos. However, two rich men in a luxury vehicle don’t have much business commiserating with the family of boys like Terry Weind. So, the two stop by Bludhaven to pick up Dick’s Saturn and allow him to change into less flamboyant clothes.

Dick chooses a threadbare BPD t-shirt and jeans. Jason stays in his signature ensemble of leather jacket and combat boots. He raises his brows at Dick’s outfit, but Dick insists it’s a good choice. Even if they don’t like the police, he’s still out of uniform and unarmed, and they’ll know this isn’t his territory. He’ll seem like a commuter, which might even win him some subconscious sympathy; many people in downtown Gotham have to commute to Bludhaven, albeit usually for a fishery job and not the police department.

Jason waits in the car for Dick to come out. Dick invites him in, but secretly he’s relieved. The place is a mess. If how he keeps his office is a hint, Jason’s habits are immaculate. They would put Dick to shame. Dick taps Jason’s window to signal they’re switching to the Saturn. Jason takes an excessively long time to part with his car, all but cooing at it, but does eventually make it over. He settles into the passenger seat, looking Dick up and down.

“What?” Dick asks, perhaps defensively. He should’ve said something like, “Like what you see?” but it’s too late for that.

Jason shrugs casually, but his eyes flicker to Dick’s hair. “Nothing. You just look normal now.”

Dick jams his keys into the ignition, because he has to be rough for the car to start, and rolls his eyes. “You mean my hair’s not gay?”

“Eh. Less gay.” And then Jason is reaching out and ruffling his hair, fingers curling through the still-damp waves. Dick stuck his hair under the bathroom sink’s faucet before putting his shirt on. He got water everywhere, but he needed to get the product out. He weirdly hopes Jason doesn’t feel any lingering stickiness, that his hair is soft to touch.

Jason’s face abruptly screws up in confusion as if he isn’t sure how he got here. Slowly, he retracts his hand and sits straight in his seat. Dick didn’t notice how open Jason’s body language was just a moment ago, but he notices how it closes. His knees no longer point towards Dick but to the windshield; his arms, once extended towards him, now fold across his chest. Dick stares at him for a moment, trying to piece together the puzzle he suspects they almost had.

Jason’s presence always has that mystifying effect on him, however, like he’s a monument to all the almosts they’ve been. When Jason was Robin, they were almost friends. When he was the Red Hood, they were almost enemies. Then they might have been brothers, could have been, maybe. There had been that night on the rooftop when Dick had managed to slip through Spyral’s many fingers — when Barbara had run away and Damian had embraced him and Tim demanded why, why — Jason had drawn blood as his voice broke because you don’t do that to your. Almost.

They are always on the verge of some new meaning.

“Well?” asks Jason. “Are you waiting for me to set up the GPS? You know the address, let’s go.”

Dick quickly recovers and begins edging out from his spot between two other parked cars on the street. “What are we, drag racing? Jeesh.” They avoid traffic for the drive over but do swing into a corner store once they’re in Gotham again. Jason buys the most expensive bouquet available while Dick fiddles with a rack of playing cards. Pokémon? Magic? Would Terry care about either of those games? He sees Jason head to the counter and grabs a random card pack to check out. His phone buzzes in his pocket just as he finishes counting off the dollar bills. He hands the cashier $16 and unlocks his phone. It’s from Bruce.

Any progress?

Dick begins typing out an answer when he remembers the boundaries he agreed on with Jason. He said he wouldn’t share any details with Bruce unless Jason okay’d it. He could let Jason know Bruce is asking, but even mentioning Bruce tends to sour him. Dick would rather get through this meeting with Terry Weind first. He makes a mental note to inform Jason later and give Bruce a non-answer if he says no.

Ten minutes later and they’re standing on narrow porch steps. The wooden planks are dark and splintery and covered in cigarette butts where an ash tray has been knocked down. Dick squats down and picks it up; ceramic, woodsy-green and leaf-shaped. He sets it atop the paint-chipped banister while Jason knocks on the door. The walls are thin enough that Dick can trace the sound of someone walking down the stairs. It’s summery outside today, the earth baked through by the sun, but he’s thinking of winters down here. Even with a good furnace, these walls must let the chill in.

A woman opens the door in her nightgown, one hand on the knob and the other on the frame. Her eyes are red and the skin beneath them sags. Her skin is almost ashen. She looks tired. She is tired, she’s exhausted, Dick can feel it when he looks at her. Her exhaustion is a heavy substance that spreads out and sinks into his flesh.

“Are you Terry’s mom?” Jason asks. He has the flowers already at his chest. His voice is stiff with emotion. Dick recalls his comment about Daniel reliving trauma and wonders if that’s what Jason is doing right now.

The woman nods and says that, yes, she is, but little changes in her expression. Dick had been expecting confusion, but she accepts the flowers without hesitation. Evidently, they are not remotely the first ones to share condolences. “My name’s Laura,” she says, touching the waxy petal of a calla lily. Her voice is soft and deep as if it’s been anchored to the bottom of the ocean.

“I’m Jason.”

“Dick,” Dick says after him.

Laura opens her mouth silently for a few seconds before carefully telling them, “I appreciate you boys coming here and wishing us well. It’s been hard, but we’re grateful to the community’s response, it’s been wonderful. I hope you don’t mind me not inviting you in, it’s just that I work grave and don’t get much sleep, and Terry’s resting.”

“We understand. But actually, we’re not just here to offer our sympathy — though you do have it, of course,” Dick conveys. He rushes the words of each clause so his speech comes out in quick, nervous chunks. He’s dipping head, taking up as little room as possible while moving closer to her. Jason takes a step back to accommodate him. He wants to represent himself as sincere, perhaps too sincere to the point of being clumsy. People often think inept and trustworthy are the same thing; the logic goes, you can’t be hiding any tricks up your sleeve if you’re more likely to spill them on the floor.

“If you turn us away, we get it, don’t worry,” assures Dick, “but this is our city and our kids are getting snatched.”

Laura begins shaking her head. “Oh, no, he’s not answering any questions — ”

“We won’t ask as many questions as the police,” Dick hurries to say. “We don’t need to. We,” here, Dick breaks off his speech and looks uncertainly at Jason, feigning hesitance. Then he takes a galvanizing breath, readying for his big leap, this information he’s sharing only with Laura. “I work part-time at the Park Row Memorial. I’m a guard, similar work to what I do with the Bludhaven Police. We have it monitored 24/7 so it doesn’t become a high-crime area again.” Dick sighs in frustration and bites his lips. “Laura,” he says firmly, staring into her eyes. Her pupils have dilated along his story. Good. “I saw Terry that night. The police haven’t even asked Park staff yet, they don’t care. But I saw it happen and I think I can do something about it.”

The best cover story is always based in reality. The best lies are true.

Laura’s eyes drop the ground as she thinks. She’s also biting her lip. Dick ponders over whether she does that often and Dick got lucky, or if she’s mirroring him. Either way, he’s won her over. She shuffles to the side and waves them in, her movements less languid than before.

She leads them to the stairwell and says, “If he doesn’t want to answer questions, he doesn’t have to. I’m not going to force him, you got it? Get what you can and hope it’s useful.” With this, she climbs the steps to the second floor, Jason and Dick following at an appropriate distance. They pause at the top step while she enters Terry’s room and explains in hushed tones his guests. She relates Dick’s reason for being here and then there’s a long pause before Dick detects a faint, “Sure.”

Dick and Jason share a look that confirms: they’re in. Laura places a light hand on Jason’s bicep and guides them to the door. “I’ll stand right here,” she says firmly and waves them forward. Dick looks around for a chair, sees none, and settles on the windowsill facing Terry’s bed. He’s faired better than the next two kids, all injuries considered. He was out of the hospital in a month. He lies in his twin-sized mattress beneath a crisp sheet, a blue comforter shoved to the foot of his bed. A square bandage covers his right cheek, there’s stitching over his right eyebrow, and there’s more stitches on the right side of his skull. His right arm and knee have been set in casts. Dick remembers him curling onto his side at one point in the video.

In the wake of the other victims’ hospital records (courtesy of Oracle), Terry’s assault had been carried out with perfunctory brutality. Dick recollects the scene but recalls no hesitation in the attacker’s swings, yet their violence has clearly increased. Perhaps they are doing someone else’s dirty work and the job has just now awakened a taste for pain in them. Or maybe it’s one guy after all and they’re adjusting to the role.

“So, you know the fucker who did this?” Terry speaks up first. His voice is a little rough and definitely fatigued. Despite his current infirmity, Dick can tell he’s a sturdy kid. He’s got the same build Jason had at that age, youthfully broad with natural muscle in the absence of training. A body with room to grow in.

Dick shrugs. “Not personally. But we hold out hope. What did his face look like? Any defining features?” he attempts, even knowing that Terry’s report claimed to make out nothing from the night of the attack.

Terry was looking at Jason beforehand, which Dick can’t blame him for. Jason takes up most of the room as he stands by Terry’s feet, stock straight with his massive arms folded. Dick has a habit of downsizing Jason in his head. In general, Dick’s guilty of subconsciously diminishing certain people’s threat levels, letting his familiarity with them obscure the danger they still pose. He does his best to put himself in Terry’s shoes and see what he might see; he accomplishes this by summoning the first night he encountered the Red Hood before he was also Jason Todd, fallen boy wonder. Even without the vigilante get-up, the man’s intimidating.

Now that Dick has asked a question, however, Terry’s eyes appraise him. Dick once again folds in on himself, tucking his arms closer to his sides and leaning back so he’s as out of Terry’s space as he can be. Then Terry’s eyes stray to the floor and he mumbles, “Looked like nothing. It was dark.” But he doesn’t say it like it was nothing.

“You saw something,” Dick contests. He’s not going to wheedle or coax, he decides, because that would just leave Terry room to equivocate. “You don’t know what you saw, but you saw something, and whatever that is will help us more than pretending there weren’t streetlamps.”

Terry grimaces. The twitch of his battered face reminds Dick of his age and his heart aches. There should be a grace period for children, an exception made for those still new to this earth. He hates that pain is one of the first things they learn. “He was white, I guess,” Terry supplies. His good fingers have found a loose thread on the hem of his pushed-down sheets. He picks at it. “He never said a word the whole time. It was quiet. He — I saw his hands. I thought, I thought the police would find his thumbprints or whatever, on me, but that’s not how it works, they said. They were all fucked up.”

“The hands or the police?” Jason interjects.

Terry doesn’t look up from his loose thread, but one half of his mouth pulls up into a faint, flickering smile. It manages to be bright even so. “The hands. There were old scars all over the knuckles. Dry, too, like he never heard of lotion.”

Dick supposes the attacker could work in manual labor, but it’s unlikely if there were truly that many scars and all old. “Just the knuckles?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Dick guesses he’s experienced with combat. The ugly, close-up kind. Still, just the knuckles, that sounds more like punishment than accident. And the dry skin? That could easily be eczema, although wouldn’t a seasoned killer think to cover up, prevent skin follicles from falling into a lab tech’s hands? It is summer, but Gotham runs more humid than dry, so perhaps they’re dealing with a foreigner. “And the face?” he prompts.

Terry abruptly drops his hand from the nervous thread and sighs raggedly. “Nothing, man. I couldn’t see anything, okay, it was,” Terry falters, “confusing.”

“Confusing how?” Jason asks.

“I don’t know!” Terry’s voice pitches in frustration. “It was weird, all swirly and shit.”

Dick can hear the criticism leak into Jason’s tone when he curtly repeats, “Swirly.”

Terry backpedals. “I said I don’t know,” he mutters.

Swirly voices sound familiar to Dick. He used to have one for a time when he played James Bond for Spyral. “I think we might have a contact, Jay,” Dick muses.

“Really?” Jason says with noticeable surprise. “Swirly’s our big break?”

“Emphasis on the might and ixnay on the big.” To Terry, he says, “Tell me, does tsuchigumo ring any bells?”

Terry’s face scrunches up. “Does what huh?”

Dick will take that as a no. “Oh, well. Still worth looking into,” he says. Dick stands and retrieves the card pack from his plastic bag. He holds it up for Terry to see before setting it down on the bed. Terry takes it immediately and brings it up to his face for inspection. “Your mom has the flowers. I wasn’t sure what to get you, but let me know if you need or want anything. Oh.” Dick swivels his head around the room. There’s not much to it aside from a bed, a dresser, and a box T.V. collecting dust. “Do you have something I can write my number on?”

Jason chooses that moment to step forward, sliding between Dick and where Terry lies. He leans across, a crisp, laminated paper balanced between his index and middle finger. “Here’s my card. Let me know if you have any more information or if either of you need help,” he explains. Terry sets Dick’s gift down and gingerly accepts the card. He flips it over: no logo, just a phone number.

“That’s it?” says Terry. “What contact? Who did this?”

“It’s too soon to tell. I wish I had more to give you two,” Dick says sympathetically to Terry and Laura, the latter of whom hasn’t left her post by the door. She rests her cheek on the frame and watches on.

Terry has more questions though and he’s edging on excited. “Are you P.I.’s? Why do you even care? I bet you fucking did this, or one of your boys — ”

“I understand your distrust,” Dick says over him. He glances nervously at Laura to gauge what she thinks of the accusation and if she’s about to step in. She’s a little straighter, body no longer depending on the wall, but her face is still impassive if alert. Dick hurries to smooth this over. “You don’t know us well enough to understand why we care. We have to prove ourselves, I get that. And we will. Until then, you’ve got nothing to lose, right? All we know is you didn’t see anything.”

Terry stares at him silently, suspicion darkening his eyes. There is risk in coming here, of course, depending on how well Terry’s attacker can trace Jason’s footsteps. But Dick has already weighed the risks and he’s betting that Terry’s part is done here insofar as the criminal is concerned. Luckily, Terry can’t identify what he’s got to lose or how much he has told them between the lines, so the charges drop like that.

There’s a few beats of silence before Jason starts fidgeting. “Yea-a-a-h, we’re going to go now,” he announces, pointing over his shoulder towards the window. Dick could cringe, he’s so awkward.

“Thanks to both of you,” Dick says and smiles as warmly as he can. He trails closely behind Jason who shuffles towards the door, his body too tall and too broad to fit comfortably in the modest room. Unthinking, the pads of Dick’s fingers feather over Jason’s back as if to guide him forward. As Jason moves, Dick lets his fingers linger in the air, covering up the touch with empty space. He curls his fingers in and tucks them behind his back. Laura follows them out.

“Thank you again,” Dick says at the door. “We’ll be in touch if anything develops,” he promises. And he will be; if not as Dick then certainly as Nightwing.

Laura thanks them half-heartedly. Dick suddenly feels self-conscious about the Pokémon cards. He may as well have given them a box with nothing inside it or a flashlight without a bulb. He heads back to the car, feeling Laura’s heavy gaze on his shoulders the whole way.

Dick is buckling himself in when Jason opens the passenger door. “Mind sharing with the class what information was so decisive you had no further questions?” he asks as he climbs into the car.

“No questions Terry could answer. This is the best we can do for a lead,” Dick explains. He needs to make a call, but that will have to wait until they’re on the road and not idling outside a victim’s house. Maybe he can take them to a restaurant, buy Jason a drink, a friendly gesture. Would Jason want to drink with him though?

“Yeah, about that,” Jason says as the car shoots off, “what lead?”

Scratch the drink; neither of them are lightweights, but on principle, they shouldn’t drink during an ongoing investigation. Still, he could buy them some sub sandwiches. He used to buy food for Tim all the time back in the day, as a reprieve from the typical Batman and Robin style of accidentally fasting until the case is resolved.

They reach a redlight almost immediately. Dick drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Spyral uses this tech called ‘Hypnos 2.0.’ They slide in kind of like contacts? They’re eye implants basically, but they transmit information between your brain and the brain of whoever’s looking at you. Their most common application was hiding your identity. If someone looked at you, they’d just see a scrambled mess instead of a face.”

Jason’s face scrunches up as he stares out the windshield. He scratches his head. “Scrambled like Picasso or.”

The light turns green. “More like a spiral,” Dick says lightly, nodding conversationally.

“Thematic,” Jason comments.

“Very. And the uniforms weren’t too shabby either.” He adds the joke more to test the waters than anything, gauge how delicate a topic Spyral is between them. Everyone in their family has a slightly different relationship with Dick’s double life. Bruce and Damian’s have been the easiest, marked by faint curiosity about his activities and begrudging acceptance of help from associated colleagues. The others have been noticeably more dodgy and uncomfortable regarding for Spyral. Dick’s stint as as Agent 37 has made everyone evasive, even for bats.

If Jason would normally have an emotional reaction to Spyral, he’s too preoccupied for one now. Dick can practically see the gears in his mind turning as his eyes narrow and his chin falls to rest on his hand. Dick feels simultaneously relief and shame; of course, Spyral is just a lead. Spyral may have been Dick’s life at one point, but to Jason, it’s just an organization. At best, contacting Spyral could save his life. At worst, well, Dick’s not expecting Jason to unpack whatever baggage Dick left in Gotham.

Dick resists the urge to grimace at his own thoughts. He’s overthinking. Can one overthink a ruthless spy agency that up until a year ago controlled his every movement?

Jason’s voice, slow and thick with the sound of a city that’s always been his, reels Dick back to shore. “Dare I ask what the uniform entailed?”

“Cargo pants,” Dick answers simply. He’s watching the road ahead, but he can hear Jason make a pleasantly surprised noise. They pass a fire hydrant painted to look like a sunflower. Dick thinks it’d be nice for Bludhaven to do that and makes a note to push the idea at city hall after the case.

“So, you think that this guy is from Spyral?” Jason asks.

Dick shrugs. “That, or he’s connected enough to snag some tech. We should check first with the other two victims, see if their descriptions match up with Terry’s. If they do, it’s probably Spyral and not some low-grade black market street vendor. Nine of out ten optometrists do not recommend mind control contact lenses.”

Jason slams his hand down on the middle compartment. “Mind control?” he exclaims. When Dick glances at him, Jason’s expression is mostly shock with a sliver of what might be plain rage. But that would be an overreaction considering all the other crimes Spyral is guilty of. All the crimes they’re guilty of, especially Red Hood, although making that argument would be more trouble than it’s worth.

Dick tries not to let Jason’s sheer judgment weigh on him. Dick has far more pressing guilt elsewhere to torture himself over. Still, it’s hard not to feel righteous rage on Jason’s behalf. He often forgets this part of Jason’s character, this abrupt sense of justice that powers him, but it’s no less prominent than it is in Bruce or himself. It might actually be stronger in Jason, a little left of center, but bleeding red nonetheless. Unfortunately, car safety dictates Dick not be on the receiving end of justice, so he replies as casually as possible, “Well, that’s what Hypnos is, essentially.”

“No way.” Jason points an accusatory finger that Dick sees from his peripheral. A street corner features a hot dog stand. Dick nearly pulls over, but the finger might kill whatever buzz a chili dog can offer. “Don’t ‘that’s-what-Hypnos-is-Jason- obviously ’ me. You just said it transmits info.”

Dick did not think his tone had come off condescending in the least. But if that’s what Jason got from it, then perhaps he missed casual and landed on dismissive. Bludhaven must be eroding his tact already. “Sorry. When I said it transmits information, I meant it as a blanket statement for everything it does. Hypnos can alter memories, which is more-or-less how the identity protection works, by modifying one’s memory of a face. It can send someone a location address or really anything you have stored in your own memory, which is helpful. It can also send orders.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s helpful, too,” Jason derides. He looks like he smelled something bad. Was Dick this perturbed by Hypnos when he first joined Spyral? He doesn’t think so. He had been so quickly embroiled in so many terrible things. What was a little crowd control in the face of cold, efficient, and constant murder?

The guns. The feel of one is his hand like death itself, how they loomed in his bedroom and among his gear, beckoning him closer to an edge everyone wanted to push him off of. The guns had overshadowed all else for him.

“Either way,” Dick carries on, “it’s unlikely this guy has his hands on Spyral tech without Spyral knowing something about him. They keep close enough watch over people that have nothing to do with them, let alone people that have access to their technology. He could be anywhere from an engineer to a passing contact, but he’s no ghost.”

“Terrific. Exactly what I need, a mind-controlling stalker from an quasi-omniscient spy organization hellbent running around on the streets of Gotham.”

Dick shrugs. “Gotham’s had it worse.”

“Have I?”

“I don’t know. Have you?” Dick retorts.

Jason scowls. “Wouldn’t be my first assassination attempt, I suppose,” he concedes.

Dick perks up and offers him a grin. “And it won’t be your last!” he crows.

Jason just stares at him, utterly perplexed. His brows are furrowed and his mouth is curled above his teeth in bewilderment.

“Because you’ll be alive,” Dick hurriedly explains. “You know, like, woohoo!” He takes one hand off the wheel to pump the air triumphantly.

“Woohoo,” Jason repeats hollowly. “Insanity.”

“What?” asks Dick. They will be coming up on the grinder shop soon. Should he suggest lunch to Jason or just drag him in? He’s leaning towards dragging. That seems more effective.

“That we’re all just living to hopefully get killed a day that’s not tomorrow,” Jason observes.

It’s not more cynical than funny, but something in Jason’s tone — the utter resignation, perhaps — makes Dick laugh anyway. “Everyone on earth’s on borrowed time, really,” he says, not unhappily. Death hasn’t frightened him since he was young. Exposure therapy, he called it once during some Titans mission that feels a lot farther in the past than it is. “The reckless and foolhardy like us, we’re just more aware of it.”

Jason blows air out from his nose in a mix between a snort and a laugh. “And here I thought vigilante-types were less aware of their own mortality.”

“Are you kidding? You have to know you’re walking towards death to find that exact path each night. Snatched purses, drug rings, elitist assassins dressed as owls, fear gas and escaped convicts and murderous clowns — and we run right towards them with open arms,” Dick says, irony guiding his grin as Jason smirks back at him.

“And open chest cavities, half the the time,” Jason tacks on.

Dick nods fervently. “Yes, let’s not forget that,” he tries to say seriously, but laughter trips him on the last word. “I don’t know. I think it’s all very sane, actually, to see what’s going on and get involved, do what you can to make everything a little bit better. But too much sanity can look like insanity, for sure.”

Jason does snort this time. “Keep moralizing like that and you’ll sound straight out of a conversation between the Joker and B.”

Dick wrinkles his nose. “Ew. I hope not.”

“‘We’re the same, you and I,’” Jason croons in a wispy, sing-song voice. “‘Sane and in-sane.’”

Dick can make out the small, white-background-red-letters sign of Hester’s Grinders a few yards down the road. There’s just enough room before the fire hydrant — this one plain, chipped red — to safely park. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll keep my philosophies to myself. And so long as we’re changing the subject — hungry?”

Previous Chapter

#jaydick #dickjay #dc #fanfiction for the void

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hellzyeahwebwielingessays · 4 years

Text

The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 28: AMJ #3.2

Previous Part

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Master Post

As with issue #2 (and all future posts) I advise you to read the prior instalment as I’m not going to recap the first half of the issue again here.

Moving on, we finally get to meet these new crewmembers. They consist of:

H.E.R.B.I.E. 1.05, a version of the F4’s robot buddy

Screwball, a “… self-styled as a performance artist and the world's first live-blogging super-villain. She was an Internet personality and social-media attention monger to such an extent that she committed crimes on camera.”

And Master Matrix. He's a whole mess. Basically he is the world’s most powerful LMD, and a highly dangerous weapon. He views Spider-Man and Deadpool as his ‘fathers’ in a weird way.

Beck starts to justify the hires, but MJ says that if they believe in the project as she does and have earnest intentions then she’ll reserve judgement.

Screwball tells McKnight that she’s leaked some fake photos to mislead the Savage Six and buy them some time. With that McKnight is eager to get to work.

Let me be upfront about this, I know little about HERBIE or Master Matrix. I’m not an F4 expert and I never bothered with the Spidey/Deadpool ongoing. So I will admit that maybe I’m missing some important context here. My research on the Marvel.wiki didn’t yield any results on who HERBIE 1.05 is beyond him maybe being the regular version of HERBIE. And last I checked the regular HERBIE wasn’t a bad guy. Master Matrix in contrast seems to have been a morally ambiguous character initially but grew to be a good guy. He has a kill switch he willingly handed over to SHIELD just in case he ever went rogue.

So 2/3 of them are perfectly fine. I don’t even know how much MJ would know about HERBIE or Master Matrix. However, Screwball?

Screwball is a straight up criminal. Not an especially dangerous one granted, perhaps not even a D-lister. But a criminal nonetheless. MJ has seen her before, as she witnessed Superior Spider-Man assaulting her on TV in Superior Spider-Man v1 #6.

Realistically, given how horrified MJ was by the incident you’d imagine it’d stick in her mind. Additionally, given how Screwball is an attention monger and very into social media I’d imagine MJ would have some awareness of who she is. MJ herself is very up-to-date with the latest trends and would be plugged into modern pop culture and social media.

However, for the sake of argument let’s say MJ doesn’t remember Screwball at all. Let’s say she’s never heard of HERBIE or Master Matrix. Given how in the first issue she was taking note of the criminal and super powered crewmembers, wouldn’t she at least suspect these people might be shady? Wouldn’t she double-check somehow that they are legit? It all leads back to the same complaints I made between my coverage of issues #1-2. She’s not even checked that Beck is out and about legally for God’s sake!

What’s so much worse is that the story acknowledges that these hires might be shady. Beck is concerned MJ will have reservations. MJ decides to reserve judgement.

This means she doesn’t fully trust them, that she acknowledges they might be sketchy.

And her conditions for reserving judgment depend upon even shakier criteria.

How the Hell can she tell in this singular moment, when she’s barely spoken to any of them, that any of these people:

a) ‘Believe’ in the movie like she does?

b) Have earnest intentions?

She’s not verified any of them are reformed or on probation. She’s got no idea what they are fully capable of or if they are on the run.

Once more she is engaging in blind faith. She is trusting the word of a super villain who’s entire skillset revolves around lying.

The final thing to take note of is the fact that the crew are actively avoiding the Savage Six; hence the new shithole location.

Um…why aren’t they just contacting the authorities or organizing protection for themselves?

SIX super villains just attacked them and want to do so again. That’s surely grounds to bring in the police or the West Coast Avengers or somebody.

Surely, MJ herself could arrange that.

Alright, maybe you could argue they want to avoid arousing suspicion because of their criminal crewmembers. But this leads back to the fact that MJ wouldn’t stand for criminals working on the movie and Beck wanted press attention for the movie anyway. In fact if a civilian like Diperna knows about the movie how do the press not? How could no one have noticed that there are super powered people and criminals working on the set?

Everyone should know that about the movie anyway, so why not bring in help from superheroes or the authorities for protection?

The answer lies in the fact that this story is incredibly half-baked and inconsistent.

I will also add that on a purely personal note I dislike 616 Screwball so just seeing her annoys me.

The next day filming has been delayed again because of bad weather. Mysterio decides they should shoot in the caves.

Filming inside some caves nearby an abandoned zoo whilst it’s raining. Seems like a health and safety nightmare doesn’t it?

If so then it’s yet more evidence of how vain and selfish Mysterio is.

Days later, we see some crewmembers intimidated by Screwball. Their conversation with her reveals she hacked someone’s private information and threatened them to deliver food to them.

MJ overhears this conversation and learns that, in order to evade the Savage Six, Screwball arranged an unmarked truck. MJ decides to solve the problem by contacting Peter and asking if he knows any teleporters in L.A.

Later, Cloak and Dagger show up and deliver food to the cast and crew.

*pinches bridge of nose again*

God, where to start with this?

So, Screwball has definitely committed a crime in the course of her role as production manager. Hacking someone’s cloud server is very much illegal and an invasion of their privacy.* Depending upon whether you believe her or the truck driver she might also have threatened the driver’s life.

Screwball admits to having done this and MJ over hears it. And yet MJ is still ‘reserving her judgment’?

I guess earnest intentions+believing in a movie>>>>>>>>>>>harming people in Mj’s book right?...

...what the fuck Williams seriously…

But the stupidity goes another level when MJ contacts Peter so she can get super powered assistance.

Let me get this straight, MJ and Beck are on board with using superheroes to deliver food to them, but not as protection for actual super villains who want to hurt them?

And MJ in particular doesn’t feel she should let Peter or other heroes know about Mysterio or his criminal crewmembers. BUT she will still contact them for a far less serious reason?

Anyone still arguing that for MJ to ask for help would be reductive to her/female characters no longer has a leg to stand on. MJ just used super heroes to solve a problem for herself. Scratch that, she asked her super hero boyfriend to solve a problem for her. And by bringing in characters like Cloak, Dagger, HERBIE and Master Matrix AMJ has arguably invited the wider Marvel universe into the story too. At which point MJ has no end of options available to her to ensure Mysterio isn’t a danger. She just isn’t using them because Leah Williams Mary Jane is not the Mary Jane we’ve known and loved. She’s this weird facsimile with all her social skills and charm but none of her deeper moral convictions.

Finally, if Beck and MJ (hypothetically) aren’t getting protection because they have crooks on staff then why bring in super heroes at all? I admit we never see what crewmembers are in Cloak and Dagger’s line of sight, so arguably MJ asked the criminal crewmembers to scram. But a hint of that would’ve been nice.

As filming inside the cave proceeds we see the Spidey actor struggling with his lines. The scene depicts ‘Spidey’ saying ‘You’ve gone too far this time, Mysterio. Now it’s personal.’ Amidst a street full of injured/dead people.

Mallorie is playing one of the injured people.

First of all, Mallorie wasn’t an actor or extra earlier in the story. But I suppose it’s not uncommon for crewmembers to have small roles in movies and with a reduced cast it’s likely she was just filling in.

More problematically, the scene is clearly depicting the fact that Mysterio has hurt (even murdered) people in his past. He’s done stuff so bad that Spider-Man, a hero, has been personally enraged by his evil acts.

This is in the movie. It’s in the script. MJ read this. MJ is seeing this recreated.

This eviscerates even the slightest remnant of deniability on MJ’s part. As I’ve argued in prior instalments, MJ SHOULD know Beck is a killer and a violent person. There was no denying that. But even if you were being wilfully ignorant or belligerently insisting only the events of this mini-series ‘counted’, the mini-series just spelled out for you that beck has seriously hurt people and that MJ knows that.

But she is still allowing him to make his vanity project. She’s still letting him walk free. She’s still chummy with him. She’s still showing no sign at all that she’s going to make Beck face justice.

On the last pages the actor playing Spider-Man quits after a light falls nearby. This leaves Beck and MJ sad, wondering how they can finish the film without Spider-Man.

I have nothing to say about this beyond a heavy light falling inside a wet cave should’ve been an obvious health and safety concern.

So, that was Amazing Mary Jane #3, quite possibly the single worst issue of the entire series thus far.

Honestly, I’m going to soldier on through this series, but I’ve made my points.

There is no hope of fixing this series now.

Not because there couldn’t be a justifiable explanation (or several) that could address all the problems. But because it’s become plain to me that Williams will not provide them to us.

Williams frankly seems like someone who understands aspects of MJ as a character. She knows how to make those aspects shine.

But there are other aspects she so fundamentally doesn’t get that it debilitates any good she might’ve done.

And more poignantly, even within the context of the story she is telling she has been incredibly inconsistent and at times downright baffling.

She either needs a better editor or she might be someone who ultimately wasn’t a good fit for this character/story.

*It’s extra bad considering several years ago in real life there was a major news story about the private photos of celebrities being hacked, perhaps the most notorious example being Jennifer Lawrence. I’m like 99% sure Leah Williams heard about that because I heard about that just from tumblr and I’m not someone who used to work in Hollywood nor do I work in the entertainment industry in any capacity.

P.S. How does Peter not know about the Savage Six?

Super villain attacks aren’t that common outside of New York city and the villains in question are predominantly associated with operating in NYC.

Three of them are very recurring enemies of his, one of which committed some very violent crimes during a traumatic recent event; the ‘Hunted’ storyline.

They attacked the set of another of his very recurrent enemies that his lover is working on.

None of this happened in a secluded location, it was all perfectly public.

So how on Earth does he not know about this? Why hasn’t he contacted MJ to ensure she’s okay? Why isn’t he riding down there to see if he can help her or trying to arrange his Avengers buddies to provide some protection?

The only answers are that MJ has lied about that again, Williams is mischaracterizing Peter indirectly or this story is badly written.

Previous Part

Next Part

Master Post

#Leah Williams #Amazing Mary Jane #mjwatsonedit #mary jane watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #MJ Watson #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #Mysterio #Quentin Beck #Carlos Gomez #Vulture #The Vulture #Adrian Toomes

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blurglesmurfklaine · 4 years

Text

Cornelia Street (8/9)

(+ an interlude i thought of after reading “Reeni”s comment. Idk who you are bc it was a guest comment, but thank you!)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Interlude

QueenJCedes replied to your story!

Kurt bites back a dopey grin when he opens Mercedes’s snapchat message. It’s a photo of her looking dubiously at the camera, a single eyebrow pointed up, with the caption: Quarantine buddies, huh?

He snaps back a quick photo of himself, eyes rolled upwards. What can I say, he won me over.

She sends back just a message this time—

Mercedes: Yeah, clearly. Mercedes: Head over feet, Alanis style!

—and then a bitmoji of Kurt falling through the air.

Kurt: I mean… You’re not wrong Kurt: He’s sort of everything Kurt: AND a fantastic kisser

Mercedes: OMG REALLY? I was just teasing, but if this is legit, I’m so happy for you!!!

He can’t help but giggle excitedly as he types a reply.

Kurt: Yeah. me too.

New Snap from setroutymouth

Blaine rolls his eyes but still can't school the smile on his face into a neutral expression. This is going to be a lot, he already knows, but nevertheless, he swipes his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone.

Sam’s pacing through Mercedes’s childhood home in Ohio, phone in selfie mode, already rambling at a hundred miles a minute that Blaine’s sure he cut off a few words.

“—cedes just showed me Kurt’s snapchat story and I AM LOSING IT! Did something happen between you two? Oh my god, something totally happened, didn’t it!? BLAINE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED MERCEDES WON’T TELL ME AND I ALREADY FINISHED EVERY BINGABLE SHOW ON NETFLI—”

As expected, it was a lot. But still not enough to burst his happy little bubble. He doesn’t think anything could, at this point.

Through his smiles, he snaps back a picture of himself shrugging, trying to look as clueless as possible, and adds the caption: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

It’s not even a full moment before he gets another video back.

“BLAINE ANDERSON I AM BEGGING YOU—”

Blaine locks his phone shut, mostly because he knows it’ll drive Sam crazy. He can respond later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand.

Blaine’s in the kitchen, putting away what was left of the carton of Cookie Two-Step ice cream they’d demolished while watching another Netflix romcom, when Kurt’s phone lights up.

New Message: From: Adam I saw your sc story You know you could just be *my* quarantine buddy When are you coming?

Kurt actually growls as he types out a reply. How did he put up with this for nearly three years?

New Message: To: Adam I’m not.

Kurt. We both know how this ends.

Not this time. I meant it. We’re done.

Okay, whatever you say I’ll check in with you later When you change your mind

Kurt doesn’t even warrant that with a response, he’s too seething mad to even formulate one with enough bite to put Adam in his place.

But then the door opens, Blaine’s beaming at him, and Adam is completely irrelevant.

“I was just thinking,” Blaine muses aloud, slipping under the covers and snuggling up next to him in a way that Kurt knows will be way too easy for him to get used to. “Do you remember our Junior year when we had to partner up during Stagefighting for that Musical Choregraphy project?”

Kurt explodes into laughter. “Uh, yeah, that was pretty ridiculous. I remember hearing from Matthew that you said I dance like a pigeon that’d been chewed up and spit out by a cat.”

“What!?” Blaine exclaims, shocked. “I swear I never said that. Though, I do remember going on a tangent about how I didn’t know how I was supposed to concentrate when you insisted on wearing those pants with that tight fitted shirt and…”

He trails off, and Kurt can feel color rising to his cheeks. “Oh, that explains it, actually.”

“Explains what?”

“Matthew. He had a huge crush on you.”

Blaine’s eyes double in size. “He what!?”

Kurt lets out a chuckle. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Nobody told me!”

“That’s not how crushes work, Blaine,” Kurt says through a stream of giggles.

“Okay, why does it make more sense for me to just take a wild guess about how people feel about me instead of them telling me, or acting on it? Like, if you hadn’t have kissed me earlier, I would have never known how you felt and kissed you back.”

Kurt opens his mouth to argue that logic, but… he seriously cannot get over how oblivious Blaine is. “So you’re saying that if I hadn't accidentally kissed you then you really wouldn’t have known how I feel?”

“Yeah. And I would most definitely not have acted on my crush.”

“Aw,” Kurt teases. “You used to have a crush on me. That’s embarrassing.”

“And you watch too much Parks and Rec.”

“I’m gonna kiss you again, now,” he announces.

Blaine just grins, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I think that’s a great idea.”

There wasn’t much of a choice because of the shelter in place, but based on the bright spark forming in his chest when their skin meets, Kurt could definitely get used to this living situation.

Blaine finally pulls away reluctantly. If he could stay attached to Kurt forever, stay connected to him, he would. He roams his eyes over Kurt’s face, like he could memorize it if he really, really tried, and notices a scar just above his eyebrow. It would be invisible to anyone else, anyone who wasn’t trying to intentionally map out the image of Kurt.

The scar doesn’t bother Blaine, but the idea that someone ever hurt Kurt bad enough to leave physical evidence that refuses to leave tugs achingly at his heart. Instinctively, he takes his hand from where it rests on the side of Kurt’s face, and gently traces over the scar with the pad of his index finger soothingly, as if it hasn’t been healed for years.

“Sophomore year… two years ago,” Kurt’s murmuring refocuses his attention.

That was a hazy time for Blaine, but he does have a vague memory of hearing from a friend of a friend that Kurt spent some time in the hospital, and he definitely remembers his rival-slash-partner being missing from their stage acting class for a while.

“What happened?” He asks.

Kurt is so calm, so steady when he answers. It leaves him in awe. “It was when all those gay bashings were happening…” he pauses, and Blaine immediately feels sick to his stomach because he knows where this is heading. “I was on my way home from school and saw these guys attacking some teenager, and… I had to help. I ran over and started shoving them, I guess. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but the kid got away. I didn’t. The last thing I remember after that was what I think might’ve been a brick hitting my head.”

“Jesus,” Blaine breathes. His initial reaction is to say I’m sorry, but something tells him that Kurt isn’t sorry about it at all. Instead, he says, “I had no idea. That–that was really brave of you.”

Kurt snorts out a laugh. “I’m glad you think so. I spent most of my hospital stay being berated by my dad about how irresponsible it was.”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “If anything it was over-responsible.”

“I’m not convinced that’s a word.”

“Me neither,” Blaine says breathlessly, amber gaze fixed on the boy lying across from him.

He really just can’t help but pull them together again.

Blaine thinks Kurt is opening his mouth to deepen the kiss and, well, he’s certainly not going to complain. Until Kurt sucks in a deep breath and turns his head, chuckling through his yawn.

“Sorry, I really thought I could hold that yawn in.”

Blaine lets out a laugh of his own and glances over at the analog clock on the nightstand. “It’s only midnight, you grandpa,” he teases.

“Hey! Doing nothing all day is seriously draining.”

“I wouldn’t call what we did nothing,” Blaine says cheekily, causing Kurt to flush.

“I’m going to shower before I head to bed,” Kurt responds, sitting up and lifting his arms up over his head and exposing an inch or so of his midriff.

Blaine is trying so hard not to stare. Nevertheless, he can’t help it as he watches Kurt saunter off to the restroom.

He tosses his head back onto the pillow with a satisfied grin on his face. Global crisis it may be, but if he got Kurt Hummel out of it… he could complain about worse things.

A bright ding from his right interrupts his thoughts. Blaine turns his head and sees the screen of Kurt’s phone light up, resting there on the nightstand.

He’s not snooping. He’s really not. It’s just sort of instinct to look in the direction of the sounds.

Then, he sees the succession of messages that make his stomach churn.

New Message: From: Adam Hurry and finish up with the rebound already I miss you Text me when you’re on your way

He stares at the screen for a few seconds before it fades back to black, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. Of course Kurt was going to run back to his ex the first chance he got. It’s exactly what he did three years ago and Blaine was just kidding himself. This was all too good to be true.

Turns out it wasn’t.

Before he knows it, he’s grabbing his duffel bag and dialing Quinn’s number.

He’s always welcomed there and New Haven isn’t all that far, after all.

Part 9

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine fanfiction #wow look at me im writing!#cornelia street

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twracehorse · 5 years

Text

Cringing at my own videos

Training Videos Edition!

I got bored, needed motivation to start editing, went back to take a look at my older videos, and now I judge and cringe at them because that’s a given at this stage

Under the cut to keep your dash shorter :3

Determined Horse Training, the title I came up with to be a little unique. I obviously couldn’t use something akin to Northena’s “Training Is Fun...Right?” and I wanted to give it a proper title knowing this would be a series of videos. I thought, and thought, and came up with the title after thinking of Undertale and how you are filled with determination in the game. “I am filled with determination to train these horses!” is what I thought and so the title of the series became that!

I use // as a way to separate different topics I’m talking about

Brave Rebel- First off...the thumbnail. He was originally themed sort of after Nathan Drake from Uncharted, since I was into that series at the time. So the map was, you know, for the treasure hunting. But I didn’t want to stretch the map to fit and somehow decided that a brown background was a good idea?? // AH THE CLOTHES! THE NECK!! AHHH GATORADE OCEAN BLEHH. // Oh yeah I have a spelling error in the video “Let’s go defeat this traning day!”. // Been training with Sage from the start of the series. I wonder how many fails of their’s I’ve caught XD // Ah the rocks, the rocks that I caught Sage stumbling out of in a later training video. // Let’s not forget the double mouse thing going on that makes its appearance in many videos before I figured out to click off of the web pages (which had a music playlist going while training). // Omg there’s someone with the club name The Babies standing nearby when I turn in the final race. // Low-key still love this horse. He was my first true Soul Steed before we were designated to our starter. I don’t take him out much, the difference in horse animations from new to old is getting bigger and for dynamic photos, it just doesn’t look good ( @~@)

Cool Hero- The horse based off of Markiplier back when he had red hair. I also uploaded the video on his birthday! // The song choice....I mean it fits the theme, otherwise I’d pick a better song. // The mini references I’m still low-key proud of. // There’s quite the amount of gliding pons in this video and some horror texture pons. // I obviously had to max Markimoo at the observatory! // I also mimicked Mark’s outros where an image is boomeranging. It took a couple tries with my friend in the background, but it was worth it!

Violet Mystery- I hope when I introduced her as “The winner of the Jorvik Wild horse competition” I mean, she was the first coat to be picked. Back when it was only one horse coat is being made. They added the top two coats afterwards. // Oh yeah the character’s whole head would move to the side to keep eye contact with the camera. // It’s so weird to think that I caught a bit of footage of Swifty just before meeting her. Then again I remember NOT editing this training video until months later and uploaded it in September. Mind you that I got Cool Hero and Violet Mystery at the same time and Cool Hero’s video was out in June...oops. // Ironic that I have the pandoric cracks around when the horse is based off them. // People running up from the riding arena, ah the fog glitch that would happen when you left your horse in the riding area, ran all the way to the dino valley elevator, took it, and there was no fog in the valley!

Megalove- Ah the first Undertale horse! I mean technically still the only Undertale themed horse I have, but I do have others planned. Haven’t gotten them yet and some plans changed. // The thumbnail....why did I make the stickers super tiny?? // Finally changed Elsa’s hairstyle to the ponytail I still wear to this day. We need updated ponytails with side bangs! I know we have the awesome braided ponytail in Mistfall, but there’s too much forehead! // Also the first training footage with the meet up....was 4 hours long. This was back when I recorded all stages of training and went through the footage in real time....I’m glad I changed strategy. // Can’t remember if crashing into a jump and the jump of the music timed at the same point was on purpose or if it was editing magic. // Oof cringing that I put comic sans as Sans “talking” in the video nnngghhhhh! // Ah my old club name Royal Ambassadors. I gave that club over to my side account Chiara Monsterhope for obvious reasons. // Annoying Dog in the credits, I still love that

Lucky Hero- I’m still proud that I came up with his nickname Vien short of Vienna where the famous riding school is. He, along with Brave Rebel, are my top horses. Please get an update eventually boys! // Finally Mac users had clear water! I was so happy over this you do not understand XD // Warriors by Imagine Dragons fits this horse, but quite a pain when I got Dark Warrior and didn’t want repeating songs. // Oh yeah early on, the Lipizzaners had a weird reflective tail glitch going on. // Vien was the first horse of mine that I got the day of release, bright and early in the morning! // I love how in the face of danger, an approaching bull dozer, I just stare at it. It wasn’t even a “oh no I should get out of the way” and instead was “huh that’s a thing”. // ALLY CHUM! I forgot that was a nickname to good friend!

Grey Ghost- OH BOY HERE WE GO!! Honestly my favorite training video. It was so much fun to edit with the music and the Halloween stickers hidden around the screen! Despite waking up at 5am to train for that aesthetic™. // Okay but that mushroom with the dark green sign did legit give me a spook. My body froze for a second and then I remembered that Slenderman doesn’t exist in Star Stable XD. // Ngl two of the stickers are hard to see cause of their surroundings. // GALLOPER THOMPSON MY MAN! Honestly I waited till midnight for him to be in Goldenleaf forest, just to see what would happen if you were racing and he caught you. By the gods of editing magic, the song was at a good point that fits perfectly with that scene. // For the scarecrow race I did actually take two different takes. I failed the first one and when I was editing I noticed that the two runs looked similar. So I put the first part of run 1 and cut before I failed and then put the remaining of the race with run 2. Looks almost seamless!

Silent Promise- My favorite mare in my stable! She ends up being my AoT cosplay photo horse...until I get the actual themed horse XP. // Shadows were a little glitchy at first. // Why am I using Rud instead of Rude. Like I know why cause that’s how we got around the filter, but I didn’t need to put it like that in the video. It’s like back in my WolfQuest days where I learned to use Cuz as a short version of Cause and it bled into my text vocab. // The witch bombs...I wanted to make it dramatic, but in hindsight it’s just tasteless really. Also to note that the sound which was fine before uploading, got more rough once it was on YouTube

Small Potential- Real cringe theme here, Hetalia. It was fun while watching and all that, but since then I’ve seen some well done anime! Growth! // I love the nickname Finny. Not too sure if I want to keep this pony or not, sadly. // The Christmas remix song is because I had no other ideas XD

Brave Eagle- Oh this is another slight cringe theme. Even more cringe is the fact that I had to re-upload this training video since it got blocked all over the world! due to the Hamilton musical songs. So I....had to layer over the songs with other songs....it’s a whole mess and was a whole pain since I had to re-edit the sound effects. // I’m proud of the thumbnail though....that’s it

Winter Dust- Why did I make the “there’s a new app with these foals you can train” with the dramatic music? // I think because I had less levels to train, I tried filling that space with “cool looking shots”. // Ah, yes, my How To Get Over A Jump wikipedia step by step

Hollow Phantom- Had to bring a creepy vibe even though it was February. So he’s like a Halloween not Halloween horse. // Can you believe that I found the main song from a Haikyuu!! crack video? XD. // That zoom on the pony surrounded by magic shires was weird. We’re saying “SO TINY” but the clip was so short it was done and over without much sense. // Mmm that slight irritation that the music and clip didn’t match with the drop. // Tried to blend the music together with itself....it’s obvious. // Of course had to max the Galloper horse where I first met the phantom himself

North Guardian- I wanna talk about the thumbnail....that background...is literally just the horse’s hindquarters. I wanted something mossy since the horse is sort of based off of Pelagia from Shadow of the Colossus. I couldn’t find good enough backgrounds, so I used the horse itself. // Again that urge to want to make the clip and music match but ahhh

Lucky Lucky- Still wish I could name this horse Gold Luck or something. // I think one of the camera turns during a race was just to show off the rainbow nearby. // Ahh! back when we could say “demon” in the chat. // Hmm instead of letting the clip run, I could’ve just cut to Reed calling the askew fence “a disgrace”. // Text was onscreen for just too long. // Trying to do the riding arena jumps with a good camera angle. But at that point, the camera kept moving and wouldn’t hold still. I’m glad it’s better now. Maybe I’ll try it again with a future horse. // Huh, forgot to add sound effects when I hit something on the last race

Silent Surprise- Cause I had to let the people know that I bought the horse after watching the Belmont. // AH STILL THE NECK! // 2 minutes in and we haven’t even gotten to the actual training yet. // Another day, another SSO glitch, this time it’s shadow rocks. // Oop missed a sound effect

Hot Spot- THE MUSTACHE! // I forgot I put a filter over the video to give it an old timey look. I should do more like that if it’s in theme. // Of course I had to have The Wanted be playing with this song since it’s old west sounding. // What was the purpose of editing the scarecrow race like that? XD. // Random running clip. // Walking the whole bobcat race would be nice if I didn’t keep moving the camera

Pumpkin Candy- As much as I love my Halloween horses, this training video isn’t up to the standards that the first Halloween training video set up. It’s still got Halloween themed music, it’s still got stickers hidden in the video, but it doesn’t feel the same. // Having text be their default instead of making them the same agh. // The spooky filter I overlayed the clips with changes at times. Would be nice if it stayed consistent

Dragon Dawn- Hmm now that I have more songs to choose from (getting into another artist as much as I did with The Wanted), I would have another song playing to fit the horse better. Maybe Euphoria or Mikrokosmos. Oh well those will be for future horses eventually! // Didn’t drop with the music...disappointed

Thunder Spirit- The horse that trains through three months. You can easily tell by the Valentine race, the rainbows of March, and April Fools. // Man I really need to work on making the text not be so BIG. // The first rainbow race had lots of sound effects. After that one I was just like “yeah not doing that again”

Sun Chaser- Eh the slowed down music is not the best idea. But I think it was also an intro to a remix of the song. So it was only so long and I had a bit to say for the intro of the horse. // The second clip of the mysterious Icelandic cryptid you can’t see them once it zooms in....annoying. // Too much of a slow build up with another cryptid spotting. // Also using the same sound but slower after just using it...smooth (not). // You know the very last clip of the horse as he’s turning around on the beach? Yeah that’s the exact moment I did the intro for the horse XD

Dragon Warrior- The contrast between me and Sage’s bantering vs the sadder song (I found the song because of a Zeno AMV) well it’s kinda weird having laughs and then sad melody. // YouTube again ruins the quality of the mic as it sounds fuzzier than it was pre-uploaded. // Low-key recording voices was fun aside from having to make sure the clips matched the voices and clicking of the mouse. // I’m still annoyed I couldn’t find the perfect snoring sound effect when Sage’s Connemara is sleeping and starts gliding away

Smoke Mirror- A little too much of a pause between text in the intro. // I love how I’m wearing a Halloween shirt because no other shirt matched with the blue of the hat except for the dress it came with THAT I GOT RID OF!

Obsidian Mystery- I love the thumbnail for her training video. It’s so spooky and cool! Favorite thumbnail of the entire series right there. // Ironic that with the three Halloween horses I’ve had. The two with the upbeat music are the ones where Galloper was present that year. The one where Galloper was missing that October, the music was softer, generic Halloween music. Not intentional, but it works. Though the first Halloween training video still gets the trick-or-treats because it has nostalgic music. // Some text isn’t easily visible

Dark Warrior- The horse I wish I could name Secret Warrior cause that would make SO MUCH MORE SENSE than Dark Warrior, but here we are. // Since Warriors by Imagine Dragons was in a previous training video, I had to search for another song to fit the horse. I literally went through those anime character theme song videos to find one! That was a terrible jump cut of the song

Ember Flame- Coming Soon

#Star Stable #Star Stable Online #SSO

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fanfics4all · 6 years

Text

The Northside Serpent: Part 15

Request: Yes / No

Request are open but ONLY if they’re Halloween<3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Keller!Reader

Word count: 2068

Warnings: Death

Y/N: Your Name

Summary: You’re Kevin Keller’s little sister when you’re mom left to go to war and your dad started cheating (I’m making it so he’s been cheating since season 1) You started rebelling; dying your hair, getting a nose piercing, tattoo, and hanging out on the southside.

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

1, 2, 3, 4,5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Kevin made me come to school with him early to ask Jughead to be the videographer. I really didn’t want to go to school early but I didn’t have a choice. So I was also forced to go to the before school musical practice. I watched them sing and dance and I sat next to Fangs while they did this. After they were done everyone sat in a circle on chairs and Kevin smiled.

“Welcome to Carrie: The Musical.” He said and then Fangs pulled his chair into the circle, next to Kevin and Toni.

“Okay. Next, introductions.” Kevin said and I rolled my eyes. Jughead was behind everyone filming the behind the scenes.

“I’m Archie, I’m playing Tommy Ross. The boy next door.” Archie said.

“I’m Betty, I play Sue Snell. The good girl.” Betty said.

“Veronica Lodge, playing mean girl, Chris Hargensen.” Veronica said.

“I’m Cheryl Blossom, playing the iconic role of Carrie White.” Cheryl said standing up.

“Tone deaf.” Josie said with a cough and I bit my lip. Oh boy…

“Who’s playing your mom? Margaret White.” Ethel asked.

“I am.” Alice Cooper said walking in.

“Ah!” Kevin said with a smile.

“Mom?” Betty asked.

“Wait, seriously?” Ethel asked.

“Settle down. Yes, it’s untraditional but to me, there’s nothing more amateur than age-inappropriate casting.” Kevin said and I rolled my eyes.

“It’s a school play.” I said and Kevin narrowed his eyes at me.

“I’m really looking forward to getting to know who this woman is, you know, get under her skin. And, of course, to spend some quality time with my daughter, Elizabeth.” Alice said and Betty smiled.

“Uh, sorry.” Chuck said walking in and everyone rolled their eyes.

“I thought rehearsal were in the Music Room.” He said.

“No problem. All are welcome here.” Kevin said and I scoffed. Chuck sat down and they kept talking.

“Why am I even here, Kevin? I’m not even in the play.” I asked when they took a break.

“Because, you don’t have anywhere else to go.” He said and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Anywhere is better than watching you guys put on a stupid play.” I said crossing my arms.

“Dad wants me to keep an eye on you, so you’re staying here.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“Of course he does.” I said annoyed and just walked over to Toni and Fangs.

“Hey Quinny, how are you doin’?” Fangs asked.

“Eh, I’d rather not talk about this…” I said and Toni placed her arm around me.

“Forget about that, we’re talking to him. Besides that, how are you and Kevin?” She asked and I groaned.

“Ughhh, I still don’t want to talk to him or my dad.” I said annoyed and they sighed.

“He’s your brother, you gotta talk to him.” Fangs said and Toni nodded.

“Maybe when he gets his head outta his ass.” I said crossing my arms and they laughed. The break ended and I went back to sitting on the sidelines.

“Okay. Act one scene one.” Kevin told everyone as they looked at the scripts.

“Actually, before we begin…” Cheryl said standing up and putting her script down.

“I’ve heard whisperings that some of you ensemble-vultures don’t think I’m fit to play or sing-” She said and looked at Josie.

“No.” Josie said shaking her head.

“The role of Carrie White. So, to settle this matter once and for all. Maestro?” Cheryl called out.

“Okay, uh, Cheryl-” Kevin said but she cut him off by starting to sing. Cheryl finished and Toni stood up to clap. I also started clapping and soon everyone else joined in.

“Wow, I think I speak for everyone when I say that was undeniable, Cheryl.” Kevin said. Cheryl was walking back to her seat when a sandbag fell and almost hit her. We all looked at her in shock. After that happened Kevin decided to call it for practice. I stayed in the shadows throughout the day just like I have been for the past week. I just really couldn’t kick the horrible feeling I felt from Sweet Pea breaking up with me.

After school Kevin and I went home and he told me that he found a letter in his locker from the Black Hood. He said that the Black Hood didn’t want Cheryl to play Carrie but he wasn’t going to recast her. After he told me that I just stayed in my room until dinner where I ignored my family. I really didn’t want to talk to them since they literally ruined my relationship. During the whole Carrie rehearsals Kevin forced me to go with him. When I refused him he had Toni, Fangs, or Jughead make me come. They all claimed they wanted me to keep my mind of Sweet Pea. I watched as Betty, Archie, Veronica, and Chuck practice their scene where they were both wanting to help/hurt Carrie. Once it was finished Kevin told everyone it was finished and then we went home. The next day I was dragged there once again. Cheryl and Josie were practicing their scene and honestly this was probably the only scene I was excited to see.

“In this scene, gym teacher Mrs. Gardener is being a friend when out girl has none, out of sheer kindness.” Kevin said, I was sitting behind him and Fangs.

“I’ll fake it as best I can.” Josie said with a sigh and Cheryl looked her up and down. The music started and Josie was the first one to sing.

“Stop, stop, stop.” Cheryl said and everyone stopped.

“Okay, Cheryl, I’m the only one that’s allowed to stop.” Kevin said and I rolled my eyes. God he’s taking this too seriously.

“I can’t do this! I can’t have you hating me while we’re singing a song about friendship.” Cheryl said and my brother shook his head.

“I know everything I did was legit crazy, Josie, but I was wrestling with some dark, Carrie White-like demons, and I’m so, so sorry. So please, please forgive me.” Cheryl said and they started singing again. I sighed and watched as they both were making up. Ugh, I wanted some drama… After that was done Veronica was up to practice her World According To Chris scene. God could Kevin cast anymore obvious? Betty the good girl, Veronica the bad girl, it’s a little on the nose. She finished and everyone clapped.

“Okay, Veronica, I am obsessed with everything that just happened.” Kevin said walking up to her.

“Thank you, it helps to be off-book and in full costume.” Veronica said with a smile and Betty laughed.

“Don’t be so modest. You are the literal embodiment of Chris.” She said and I smirked, guess I’ll be gettin my drama after all.

“Never has a role been so perfectly type-cast.” She added.

“Betty…” Archie said trying to stop her and my brother sighed.

“What was that, Betty?” Veronica asked.

“I mean, think about it. Spoiled rich girl, check. Major daddy issues, check. Bad to the bone, trying to control everyone around her, including her boyfriend and best friend. Check, check, check.” Betty said and I smirk nudging Jughead.

“Looks like your girlfriends finally figured it out.” I said and he shook his head at me. Kevin told everyone they could leave and they did. I was stuck with Jughead and he was watching as Archie was talking to Betty in the back.

“A little jealous are we?” I asked him.

“Shut up Quinny.” He said shoving me.

“How are you anyway?” He asked turning the camera off.

“I’m doing as best as I can be after my first boyfriend broke up with me because of my family.” I said sitting back in my seat.

“Hey, we’re talking to him okay? Toni said you made him happy so he’s not just gonna throw that away.” Jug said giving me a side hug.

“He already did…” I sighed. I could feel a wave of tears ready to escape. I got up and walked over to my brother who was with Fangs.

“Hey Kev… I’m gonna go home…” I said and he looked at me worried.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asked and I nodded.

“Yeah… I’m just tired. I’ll see you at home.” I said and walked out. I walked home and locked myself in my room. I took out my phone and started going through mine and Sweet Pea’s texts. Why was I torturing myself like this? We haven’t talked in weeks, hell I haven’t even seen him besides in class. Maybe Toni was wrong and I didn’t make him happy… I cried myself to sleep again that night.

The next day I was yet again forced to go to rehearsals but this time Cheryl wasn’t there. I looked at everyone confused. Where was she? She wouldn’t be late, she wanted to play Carrie more than anything.

“Due to some unforeseen circumstances, Cheryl will no longer be playing the role of Carrie White.” My brother said and Fangs tried to place his hand on his shoulder? Did Fangs have a thing for my brother? Good luck with that.

“What? Why?” Toni asked.

“Let’s just say that Penelope Blossom isn’t much of a stage-mom.” Kevin said and I scoffed.

“I think Cheryl’s by the gym bleachers.” He told Toni and she grabbed her stuff and left.

“In the meantime, Cheryl’s understudy will assume the role.” My brother said.

“Understudy?” Ethel asked.

“I appointed one after the sandbag incident. Midge Klump!” He said and everyone clapped. After that announcement everyone took their seats. Midge and Alice were going to practice one of their scenes. Everything was going well until Alice said Betty instead of Carrie..

“Mom?” Betty asked.

“Don’t leave me, Betty. Don’t leave me like all the others.” Alice said while crying then ran off. Betty got up and followed her.

“Am I directing a train wreck? And where’s my tea?” Kevin asked Fangs.

“Yeah you are. What did you think was gonna happen?” I asked rolling my eyes.

“Shut it you!” Kevin said looking at me.

After what felt like forever it was finally the night of the play. Kevin made sure we were dressed nice, so I was dressed in black lace dress, black and silver flower earrings, a black and silver flower necklace, and some black heels. For makeup, I up on a dark red lip and black and silver eyeshadow with a wing. I also curled my hair and put a bow in the back.

It was definitely too dressy for a school play but Kevin was making us so we had to. I was sitting next to Cheryl and Jughead and he was sitting next to my brother. We were watching the play and everything was going great. Alice was singing one her songs where Carrie was locked in the closet and everyone was loving it. They set looked amazing too.

“Alright Carrietta, it’s time to come out of your closet.” Alice said and the set lifted. What everyone saw was horrific.

“Uh, Kevin, did you re-block this scene? Why isn’t she on her knees singing?” Cheryl asked.

“I-I…” Kevin just stuttered, he didn’t know what to say. There on the wall was Midge Klump stabbed with multiple knives and with things written in her blood…

“I am back from the dead all those who escaped me before will die. B.H.” I read and we all just stared in shock, not processing what was happening.

“I don’t think that’s part of the show.” Jughead said shocked.

“Oh my God!” Kevin said.

“Somebody should help her! For God’s sake, help her!” Cheryl yelled and Alice finally turned around. She screamed and everyone started screaming and freaking out. We all got up and Kevin grabbed me pulling me to the stage but I got out of his grip and ran for the door. Two people stopped me and I looked up to see Fangs and Sweet Pea. Fangs grabbed me and pulled me out of the school with them.

“What the hell was that?” Fangs asked shocked.

“I don’t know, the Black hood must be back…” I said scared and Sweet Pea wrapped his arm around me. I froze not really knowing why he was doing this.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.” Sweet Pea said and they took me on their bikes to Sunnyside Trailer Park.

Tag list: @54fangirl @southsidehufflepuff @xrosesareredx @cvvlxx @skeletalwolfcat @demigodofthesun @depressed-octopods-art @nalayrene @yourfavouritefuckup @staygoldsquatchling02 @sataninsatin @im-socialy-awkward-no-joke @dark-night-sky-99 @aframeofbones @jojokoko0717 @nixdunbarhale @wanderlust-and-poetry @theyouthfulmoon @seasiren96 @nixdunbarhale2 @misskarynie @emo-godess-loves-you @serpent-stan @a--smallgirlinabigworld @ohlookmybed @everheart12 @sailorsolar12 @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @herokyolachan @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @alex--awesome--22 @teenwolfbitches2 @blueandgoldaus @southsidefandoms @hiya-imthatgirl @answer-the-sirens @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @jjkingston @k-is-cray @staygoldsquatchling02 @wanderlust-and-poetry @hiighdeex3 @blueberry-lipgloss @ayeitsjaz @nadiagazecka @mysticrebelwerewolf @tht1wrdo @thegirlallthebadguyswant @widowsgirl

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a-singleboat · 5 years

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Graduation (A Three-Part Mini-Opera)

PART ONE

Nothing was better than skipping school for brunch, especially on what was shaping up to be the nicest Friday of the year. You had woken up to an empty house so you could blast your morning playlist as loud as you wanted. The night before, you had actually been productive and had done your homework and laundry. So not only would you have an outfit for school, but you would also not have to worry about doing the worksheets half-assed during the thirty-minute homeroom you had before the actual start of the school day.

You sat curbside, next to a fire hydrant that had most definitely seen better days. The rest of Queens seemed busy as hell, cars rushing by and people constantly chattering amongst themselves. Everyone was always so damn busy, and that was coming from a high school senior taking eighty different AP classes while in eighty corresponding extracurriculars. Big talk from a girl who didn’t even show up to class most days.

Here’s the thing. Why did you need to know this stuff if you were planning on dropping off the face of the Earth the second after your graduation cap was tossed into the year? Of course, it was the best time to go. Everyone would be so engrossed with each other that it would be oh-so-easy for you to slip through the doors and never look back.

Of course, it would if it hadn’t been for one Peter Benjamin Parker. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or rather call you fifty-seven times and counting. You stared at his name across the top of the screen. His face took up the majority of the screen, beaming up at you as the phone vibrated in your hand. Your finger hovered over the green accept button before the ringing stopped, his face disappearing from the screen and you find yourself staring back at your own reflection.

You slipped the device into the back of your jeans as you stood from the curb. If you were going to do this, you were going to do it right.

On your walk back to the school, the sky darkened and so did your mood. It was as if the very thought of you going back to school was sucking all things good and bright from the atmosphere. It seemed very legit if you were being honest. Yes, the weather revolved around your mood, and yes you were going to keep the lie up to yourself as long as possible.

Finally, you reached the school doors and let out a long sigh. You were drenched from head to toe, no longer enjoying pretending that you controlled the elements. You plus any kind of superpower would be absolutely disastrous.

The second you stepped through the double doors of the school, Peter was by your side. It was as if this kid had some super power of his own - to always know where you were at any given second of the day.

“Why didn’t you return any of my calls? I was worried, Y/n!” Peter ran out of breath, stopping to take in several breaths.

“I didn’t return any of your calls, mom, because my phone got drenched.” You pulled the now useless device from your back pocket, handing it over to the boy as you reached up to unlock your locker. You pulled your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the floor with a gross sounding ‘plop!’

Tugging a sweater over your head, you looked over to Peter who was shielding his eyes from seeing your half-naked body. You knocked him over the head lightly, “It’s not like I don’t have my bra on.” You reached under your sweater and unhooked the said bra, pulling it up through the neck of the sweater and dropping it with your shirt. “Now I don’t. Be embarrassed, Benjamin.”

You bent down to scoop up your wet clothes and shoved it in a plastic bag you had in your locker from God knows where. “Listen, graduation is like two weeks away and the last thing I want is for you to not be allowed to walk. I mean, we’re in the same name group!”

“I could honestly care less, Benjamin. Walking that aisle is my worst nightmare as of now.” You shut your locker and took off towards where your next class would be. “It’s not that I don’t want to graduate, it’s the fact that I have to get in front of the whole school and talk about how much I loved every waking moment of being in this hell hole.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you’re the captain of the volleyball team and, you know, a student advisor.” Peter walked a little in front of you, reaching out to grab Ned by the arm, who had been walking about five steps ahead of the both of you.

You veered off to the side, stopping in front of the classroom door. “And all that means nothing to me, Benjamin. I’ll catch you and Leeds later, I’ve got back to back chem with Mr. McAsshole today.”

Peter’s face visibly falls. You could tell he wanted to talk to you more about the future and everything it holds. He shot back into excited mode upon hearing your next words.

“Maybe we can grab a shake after school or something. I mean since we have different lunch blocks today. It’d be a chance to just hang or whatever as well.” You opened the door, glancing back at him. “Bye.”

PART TWO

A week later and graduation was now less than a week away and you were no more thrilled than you had been the last time you and Peter had had any conversation of the topic. The rest of the senior class was buzzing about graduation and prom, a dreaded topic that you had completely forgotten about and now had to make the decision to either stay home or go out.

“Prom is less than two days away, Y/n!” Peter was practically bouncing off the walls.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be going, Benjamin.” You squinted at the words written on the board. You really needed to get your eyes checked again. “Like I know I already bought a ticket and everything, but I’m still without a dress. Why should I buy a dress that I’ll probably never wear again?”

“For the experience! Experience is how the world learns!” Peter wrote down what was on the board, passing his notes to you. You thanked him and copied them down, or rather copied whatever he had highlighted. Those were the only important parts anyways.

“I’ve already learned enough though, I mean with a father figure like Matt I should be fine.” You packed away your notebook and shoved it into your backpack. “I’ve experienced plenty. What I really need is a place to go after graduation.”

Peter blinked a few times. “After graduation? What do you mean after graduation? I thought you were staying in New York with Matt and Adriana?”

“That was the plan,” you nodded a few times. “But plans change and so do people. I’m eighteen now, Benjamin. Not sixteen like I was when I made those plans.”

The bell rang and you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll catch you around, Parker.”

PART THREE

Graduation day. You hated it.

Getting up on that stage in front of all the peers you would most likely never see again seemed redundant. You were never going to show up at any high school reunion or banquet or anything they threw together for the masses.

Regardless, you threw on a smile and got up to talk to the volleyball team. It seemed mean, but spouting all the false words of being a family felt freeing. This was your goodbye to those who didn’t know your plans for after high school.

“So thank you, Midtown High and the varsity volleyball team, for giving me a second home in this wonderful community.” You wrapped up your speech with something seemingly heartfelt, leaving the stage to return to your seat next to Peter.

“Hey, Parker.”

“Have you changed your mind about leaving?”

“I have not.”

“Is there any way for me to change your mind?”

“No there is not.”

“So is this goodbye?” He kept his face forward but you could see the tears building up in his eyes. You turned your attention to face back to the stage, refocusing on the valedictorian’s speech.

“This is goodbye.”

You could see him drop his head a little before pulling a small box from his gown pocket. He passed it to you, dropping it into your open hand.

“Then take this before you go.”

You opened the box and in it sat a compass on a chain. You flicked it open to see a photo of you and him, beaming at the camera.

“Thank you, Benjamin.”

You both stood up with the rest of your class, them cheering as you all tossed your caps into the air. You gave Peter one last smile before leaving him and everything else behind.

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frauleinsmaria · 5 years

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The Village is a Glow (2/2)

A/N: This is the final part to my CSSS gift for @eastwesthomeisbest ! Thanks for being patient with me while I recovered from Christmas retail and tried to work out some of the kinks in the story. I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve enjoyed getting to know you! Special thanks again to @profdanglaisstuff for beta duties and @cssecretsanta2k18 for hosting this event.

Summary: Killian Jones credits moving to the Big Apple for getting his photography career off the ground. He also has it to thank for causing his first run-in with Emma Swan, who makes him question every photo he takes afterward.

AO3

Coming to the conclusion that there was something extraordinary about Emma Swan was fairly simple. Putting his finger on just what that something was, however, was anything but.

The first time, he’d chalked it up to coincidence; a change in his camera settings, the way the light reflected off of the lens maybe. The second was enough to make him question things.

The problem was finding her. Everything he knew about Emma was limited to her name, her age, her taste in movies, and that she worked at a bookstore in the city. In a place like New York, he might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack. He’d tried looking her up on social media, feeling both a bit nosy and disappointed when he scrolled through the list of accounts of people with the same name who obviously weren’t the blonde consuming his thoughts.

Killian soon found himself just hoping that his good luck she’d referenced the day of their first meeting would work in his favor again. He’d found her unintentionally twice, and what was that they said about the third being the charm?

What would he even say to her the next time they inevitably ran into each other? Hello, Swan. Funny thing, I’ve noticed this odd golden haze over both of the pictures I took before encountering you and wondered if you would be willing to provide an explanation. Are you a witch, fairy, magician, or involved in some other kind of odd supernatural activities I’m not familiar with? Because that definitely wouldn’t cause her to question his sanity (even though he’d questioned his own every single time he looked at either of those two photos and the golden glow that permeated both.)

In the meantime, he went about his regular routine and kept himself busy with work. Ruby and Belle had been ecstatic over the photos he’d emailed them not long after the impromptu photo session in the park. Both women sent him lengthy messages thanking him and yet again offering some kind of payment for his time and the pictures. His only request was that they consider seeking him out again next time they were in the city.

(He knew it was no coincidence that the last photo with the mysterious golden glow was the picture Ruby posted on her Instagram account first and Belle made her profile image, both women tagging him and insisting all their friends consider him for sessions in the future.)

Good luck must have been on his side after all, because two weeks later, he was walking home on a Friday afternoon when he saw a familiar face framed by blonde curls standing in the front window of a store with a sign claiming itself to be Booth’s Books. He’d found it- more importantly, he’d found her. Of all the bookstores in New York, Emma Swan was working at one less than six blocks from his apartment.

Killian quickly ducked inside, the bell on the door announcing his arrival as he made a sharp left and found himself face to face with Emma.

“Oh! Killian?”

“Hello, Swan. You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”

“Do you need help finding a book?”

“Er, not exactly.” “I really hate to bother you at work, but would you have a few minutes to chat anytime soon? Or I could come back later when you’re free.”

“I’ll get a break in thirty minutes if you don’t mind waiting. There’s a coffee bar at the lounge area in the back.”

“Thank you, love. And don’t rush on account of me; I’m in no hurry.”

Killian made himself a blonde roast with cream and sat back to flip through a random magazine on a nearby table while he waited for Emma’s shift to end. True to her word, she appeared at his side half an hour later, wearing a red leather jacket over her white sweater and was pulling a gray knit beanie on her head.

“I thought maybe we could go for a walk and talk about whatever’s on your mind? The store is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I can only stay in the place where I work for so long afterward.”

“Of course, love. I’m following you.”

She led him out of the store and into the chaos of afternoon traffic, both of them darting around other people to keep up with each other, Killian desperate not to lose her before asking the questions that had been boggling him for days now. He followed her to City Hall Park, only fitting considering their last encounter.

“I thought we may have a better chance of having a legit conversation here.”

“Aye.” The park wasn’t empty by any means, but they could speak to each other coherently without as many outside interventions.

“So, uh, why is it that you were so glad to see me? Unless you couldn’t find Granny’s on your own and needed me to give you directions to curb your grilled cheese cravings.”

“Afraid not- although that does sound quite appealing, now that you mention it.” He took a deep breath. “Swan, I’m not sure just how to approach this, but- wait.” He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and brought up the picture of the sun he’d taken right before their first meeting. “What do you think of this?” he asked, holding it up for her to see.

“That’s really neat, especially the way the sun looks with the golden haze over the photo. Did you take it?”

“I did. I took this one as well.” He swiped through a few more photos to find the one of Ruby and Belle, showing it to her next.

“Killian, these are great pictures...but I doubt showing me your work was the real reason you wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s not so much the photography I’m concerned about. Okay, it is, but not in the way that it sounds. You see, Swan, none of my other photos look quite like these two. And these were both photos I took promptly before running into you.”

Her eyes widened. She bit her lip and glanced away from him. “So, what are you insinuating here? You think I help your ability to take good pictures?” She forced a laugh, but he could tell she was now suddenly worried.

“I honestly don’t know what to think, love. Other than this is all too concrete and specific for me to believe it was a lucky coincidence on my part.”

“Well, we have established that you tend to attract good luck.”

“I think there’s a lot more than luck behind this, love, and something tells me you’re thinking the same.”

Emma made a noise that was something between a sigh and a groan. “Would it be that hard to chalk it up to fate and that you’re a good photographer?”

Maybe this wasn’t Killian’s best idea. She evidently didn’t want to discuss whatever it was she knew about the photos. As much as he wanted answers, he didn’t want to risk making her any more uncomfortable than she already seemed to be. “I apologize, Swan. You’re not obligated to tell me anything, photos or not. I’ll let you go now, if that’s what you like. I’m sorry again if I made you uncomfortable and for taking up your time.” He turned to leave when she called out his name.

“Wait.” Was she having a change of heart? “Never in a million years would I have seen myself asking this question to a guy I’ve met all of three times, but since you seem decent and you’re so perceptive: do you believe in magic?”

“A month ago I would have said no. Now, I’m starting to feel open to anything.”

“So, I have certain...abilities,” she began. “There’s no solid explanation, but I can essentially create certain auras or illusions based on my emotions. It doesn’t happen all the time, mostly when I’m feeling pretty strongly about something. They usually look like a trick of the light or something, so most people don’t even notice something’s off unless they have tangible evidence afterward.”

“Like my photos?”

“Exactly. I’m sure it was hard for you to see past it considering it probably didn’t show up in the rest of your photos. I didn’t even know it could be captured on camera until you showed me just now.” Her eyes kept flitting from his to the ground. This wasn’t easy for her to share with him.

“That’s quite extraordinary, Swan.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So you don’t think I’m crazy yet? Not gonna call the cops or run for your life?”

What kind of people had she had this conversation with before? “I take it people you’ve shared your abilities with in the past haven’t been very accepting.”

“That would be an understatement.” She barked out a laugh. “I’ve been called a psycho bitch by guys over this before.”

“Well, I can’t lie to you and say it’s easy to wrap my mind around all of this just yet, but I have no reason to believe you aren’t being truthful love, photos or not.”

“You really mean that?”

“Aye. Your secret is safe with me. And I can delete those two photos from my social media pages if that would make you more comfortable.”

“No, it’s okay. Two pictures aren’t enough to tip people off about anything; they probably just thought you used a different lens or filter.”

There was a moment of silence before Emma noticed the time. “I’m really sorry; I have to be back at the bookstore in ten minutes. August and Marco have been great to me so far, and I don’t wanna do anything that could change that.”

“I understand, Swan. I’ll walk back with you now if that’s alright.”

“Sure, thanks.”

They were silent on the walk back to the bookstore, Killian feeling relieved to have answers about the connection between Emma and his photos, but also unsure of where this would go next, if anywhere.

“Killian?” She asked as they walked up to the store’s entrance.

“Yes?”

“Would you, uh, be up for getting coffee again sometime? Or hot cocoa, whatever. If it’s too weird that’s fine, but, I dunno, you’re easy to talk to and I really appreciate someone who doesn’t freak out over a conversation like the one we’ve been having.”

It was the last thing he expected, but he would’ve been a fool to say no. “Of course. Nothing would make me happier.” They exchanged numbers with her promising to get in touch soon.

He received his first text from Emma not two days later. I could totally go for another grilled cheese from Granny’s if you’re free tomorrow afternoon.

With onion rings?

Fast learner. I like you.

He showed up to Granny’s the next afternoon twenty minutes early, eager to see her and learn everything about herself that she was willing to share, whether it involved her abilities or not.

Emma arrived just on time, red-faced and wearing the same jacket and beanie from a few days earlier. She dropped into the seat across from him and let out a deep breath. “Sorry, I ran from the store. I thought I was gonna be late.”

“Quite alright, Swan. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead a few minutes ago and ordered the same thing we had the last time. You can get something else if you wish, of course, but I’m familiar with your penchant for grilled cheese.”

“You might be my favorite person in the whole world,” she said, beaming, just as the waitress walked over with their orders.

They ate and spent the next hour or so unofficially resuming their conversation in the park. It had been anything but small talk, yet they still barely knew each other. She told him about how she became aware that there was something different about her at five years old when her foster parents were in a heated argument and a cloudy haze formed around them, evidence of Emma’s distress. But she didn’t discover more details behind this part of her until later.

“I was thirteen,” she told Killian. “I had run away from the group home and was at some supermarket trying to swipe food. Someone caught me, but Lily popped up out of nowhere and covered for me. She told me she could tell I was scared; apparently, if two people with these same kinds of abilities are close enough, you can feel the other person’s emotions instead of just seeing whatever manifests from them.”

“That’s…” he struggled for the right word to say. “Well, that’s remarkable, love. So you two were able to bond over your shared capabilities?”

“Not really.” Something told him that story didn’t have a pleasant ending. “But it gave me an idea of how to spot other people like me. I’ve found half a dozen or so since, mostly in smaller areas where it’s easier to detect. It’s a nice reminder that there are other people like me.”

“I appreciate that you were comfortable and willing to share all of this with me, even just what we discussed in the park,” he told her as they left the diner. “I hope you know that I don’t take it lightly.”

“I do know. And it may not make sense, but I trust you.”

“I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

“Good. Go out with me?” she asked without missing a beat.

“Come again?”

“Go out with me. Y’know, to dinner, or something. Or not,” she quickly added. “That’s fine too.”

“I would love nothing more. I only have one request, if you’re up for fulfilling it.”

“Uh, sure, I guess?”

“Would you give me the honor of taking your picture?” Killian gestured to the camera bag at its usual place on his arm. “I’ve gotten to take photos that you’ve impacted twice, but something tells me one of the marvel herself would be quite spectacular.”

“You’re such a dork,” she laughed. “But okay. What should I do?”

“Stay just as you are, love,” he said, pulling out his camera and taking a handful of images while the afternoon sun was in the perfect spot to highlight her features. He quickly brought up the last photo in his media library and couldn’t help but smile at the result: Emma, beaming, green eyes full of light, and, just as he expected, that obvious golden glow he’d become so familiar with.

Killian used to think he owed New York for getting his photography career off of the ground. Now, he knew he owed the city for introducing him to Emma Swan.

#cs ff #cssecretsanta2k18 #eastwesthomeisbest #captain swan #cs au #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #ouat fic #mine #captain swan fanfiction

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myfirelight64 · 6 years

Text

My Opinion On Baekyeon

Disclaimer: This is purely my opinion based on what I’ve seen and heard from various sources. I am not claiming that what I write here is fact, so please take it with a pinch of salt. I also was not a Kpop fan at the time they were dating, so this is me looking back and forming an opinion.

**WARNING, THIS IS LONG**

Before I begin on my unexpectedly long post, I'd like to clarify that everything below is based on what I've seen, and I am not someone to cloud my judgement because of how I feel towards certain people or ships. Obviously I'm a firelight, and I'm not particularly fond of Taeyeon, but I don't pretend to know everything about her, either. If the evidence I've looked through pointed towards them being a legitimate couple, then I would be perfectly willing to admit that. But, as you can probably tell, I don't think they were, for several reasons. The only thing I want is for Baekhyun to be happy, whether or not that includes Taeyeon. I'm not possessive over him for myself or for anyone else. This is not a Ch@nbaek post, although it has to do with it, and that's probably why you follow me, because the reasons I think Baekyeon was a ploy is merely because of them and their interactions, and having nothing to do with his other personal relationships.

Let's look at the timeline first.

June 18, 2014 – SM drops the bombshell: GG's Taeyeon and EXO's Baekhyun are dating, and have been for four months! Here's proof of their dates before Taeyeon went to Japan.

2014 SMTOWN (I can’t find which one they were together at) – Interactions! That's good; we'd almost forgot about them...why hasn't media talked about them...at all?

September 15, 2015 – SM's star couple has broken up due to heavy schedules!

To start off, the timing was a little too perfect. It had just been announced that Kr!s had filed a lawsuit against and was leaving SM Entertainment! SM, while probably expecting it, are panicking. Fans are hurt, angry, confused, and fighting. SM needs something to take everyone's mind of the departure (and Kr!s's claims of mistreatment). And what could possibly do that? Well, the first SM couple between a Girls Generation member and her number one fanboy. Said fanboy is also currently one of EXO's most popular (aka most promoted) members, not to mention being part of one of the biggest EXO ships.

And it worked pretty well. Most people were focused on either giving the new 'couple' well wishes, or crying on one of their Instagrams about how they couldn't believe their oppa was being taken away from them (or Ch@nyeol).

But to some, it's already a little strange. How come we didn't see it coming...at all? Other than their few former interactions, there wasn't really anything substantial to suggest they were romantically interested in each other. No one thought of it either, except the typical “They touched; they're dating!” and some thinking they looked cute together.

But in case anyone doubted it, we have pictures! Verifiable proof that they've been on dates, thanks to Dispatch. With this definitely-not-false information and shady pictures of a totally-secret-date, we call all be sure that our very own Baekhyun and Taeyeon began dating just two years into Baekhyun's career.

But with just a little looking, you can see that nothing makes sense.

They never leave the car (because it needs to be super secret) yet have the roof of the car off (so you can get great shots from Dispatch’s secret location) and Baekhyun’s got his phone on full brightness so you can be completely, utterly sure that this is Baekhyun. You can’t really see Taeyeon, but that doesn’t matter, apparently, even though it’s supposed to be focusing on the two on a date. The kiss looks awkward, if it’s even happening. She’s holding his face and tilting her head nearly horizontally, while his face is badly lined up and miles away. It also looks like there’s a third person in the car, supposedly a manager, tailing along to this really secret date. After all, doesn’t everyone go on a date with their manager?

Not fishy at all.

Next came the SMTOWN interaction. Seems pretty legit in the end, although of the two sets of pictures I've seen, it didn't look particularly lovey-dovey for a couple that's been together at least six months. Granted, they're still shots, so perhaps the camera caught them without the massive smiles on their faces you'd expect, making it feel like they were awkward, whereas it was only a split second. Photos do that sometimes.

Admittedly, they’re pretty cute here:

The SM Halloween party passed but there was absolutely nothing indicating Baekhyun and Taeyeon were even together.

But then, the ‘happy couple’ break up (right after Tao sues SM for injuries). After a relationship seemingly made of just of announcements and Dispatch’s ‘lucky’ catch, it’s over. And honestly, all that’s come of this is tears and pain. The time they were ‘together’ was simply and honestly what looked like the worst year and a half for Baekhyun. He looked upset, sad, and anxious frequently, and from what I hear, Taeyeon didn’t seem much better. She often broke down crying, and it sounded like she lost a lot of weight. One proper, formal apology like Baekhyun would have been enough, but the flood of worry and anxiety she had after the break up seemed more than that. Granted, break ups are hard, but there’s two reasons why it still didn’t add up to me.

Number one, companies wouldn’t announce something the day it happened. If you think the relationship was real, it means that it was four whole months before they announced to the world that Baekyeon were officially a thing. So it would obviously be a good few months before announcing they’re broken up, at which point you’d except both Taeyeon and Baekhyun were through the worst of it. Yet Taeyeon didn’t seriously seem troubled until right after the news was announced, like it really did end the day SM confirmed it.

Number two, I don’t completely understand why you would be so upset towards the fans about it. Neither Kryst@l or Ka1 issued any kind of apology or statement about their relationship (which I also think was a beard, but moving on). Perhaps, as I did say I didn’t know much about Taeyeon, she’s more sensitive and it hit her harder, but I can’t be sure. But it just seems to me that the only reasonable explanation would be that the two were lying to their fans the entire time (against their will or not), aka faking their relationship. Taeyeon would likely be ten times more upset once she was finally free, because it probably felt like a waste of time and tears and hurt. But, of course, I can hardly claim experience in dating in the kpop industry and under a kpop entertainment company.

On top of this, I heard saesangs said that they believed Baekyeon to be real, but that Taeyeon was dating an SM sunbae at the same time. I’m not accusing Taeyeon of cheating at all. But I think that SM would be aware of saesangs and make sure that Baekyeon go out together and act like a couple even if they weren’t going to release it. Meanwhile, Taeyeon’s also got a real boyfriend, hence the two-timing rumours.

I’m not saying that when an idol begins dating, we should be able to see plenty of their life together, or see a lot of moments. I get it’s stressful, and that there are a lot of people who get incredibly possessive and angry when their bias becomes taken. I guess I just expected there to be...more. Anyone who goes to an EXO concert says you can just feel the intimacy between the members, especially pairs like Ch@nbaek or K@isoo. A sort of mental connection and radar as to what the other is doing and where they are. While the two were dating, it seemed like Baekhyun was more worried about Chanyeol and the other members rather than his own girlfriend in SM events, which struck me as unusual. Baekyeon just kinda fell flat for me, and coupled with the shady pictures and such perfect timing, it’s highly improbable to me they were actually dating. They seemed in good form at the 2015 MAMAs, chatting and laughing, unlike a lot of broken-up couples, and the other members looked comfortable, too (including Chanyeol). On top of this, Junmyeon made fun of Baekhyun’s stoic face when Taeyeon passed after winning an award. As leader, it doesn’t make sense to me that he would be teasing Baekhyun over an ex. They technically didn’t break up more than six months ago, and if the relationship was real, I don’t see him saying anything about something that would still be a sore subject. All the other members laughed, too, rather than giving Junmyeon disapproving looks. Back to the ex-couple, Baekhyun and Taeyeon individually. seemed a lot happier once it was all over and a little time had passed. It’s unfortunate that they don’t seem as close friends as they were back in 2012 and 2013, when they had a friendly sunbae/hoobae and idol/fanboy relationship, but there doesn’t seem to be any hard feelings between the two members or groups. However, I definitely don’t think they’re still dating behind closed doors.

Again, this is merely my opinion. This isn’t to hate their relationship if it was real at all; I love Baekhyun and EXO and have always been very supportive of them dating. They all deserve to have love in their lives, especially as they mature and get older, whether that comes from outside or each other. I am completely behind them on whatever decisions they make, or who they decide to date; it is their life after all.

I know this is kind of a random time to bring it up, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I’ve got a lot of things I’d like to talk about eventually, and this is what was currently going through my head. I’m writing this the day before Ch@nbaek day, but I don’t think I should really post it on the day, so probably a belated happy Ch@nbaek day firelights!

#baekyeon #baekhyun #chanbaek #baekyeol

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gzteacher · 5 years

Text

Meanwhile in China...

It's been one of those "days." Those days where because I'm a teacher, I have this habit of noticing EVERYTHING. I'm so used to keeping an eye on individuals within a large crowd, the moment someone does something or says something "off," I pick up on it.

I was at a crosswalk waiting to cross when a guy immediately noticed me. I was wearing a jumper with the sleeves rolled up - minding my own business. (Mind you, I've been around long enough and have gotten enough "looks" that I can officially tell when someone is just noticing me as a person who happens to be existing in a spot and when someone is giving me the full-blown zoo animal treatment.)

As expected, he took out his phone, readied the selfie camera and tried to position himself so that I would be in the shot. Out of shear impulse, I rolled my sleeves back down, put the hood on and stepped out of the way, just to "make sure I wasn't obstructing whatever he was actually trying to take a photo of" (all of this is read as "give the fellow the benefit of the doubt and hope he has an ounce of humility to him").

But of course, the guy didn't pick up on what I was doing and ended up spinning himself in a circle trying to follow me with his camera. I snapped him out of his trance by yelling 你要干嘛！？ (ni yao ga' ma = "the hell are you doing!?"). His face went pale, as if he were certain that of the crowd of people at the crosswalk, it was indeed him I was talking to. His hands shook as his fingers fumbled along the face of his phone as he mumbled 不...不是 (bu... bu shi = N-noo, not this...). The camera app conveniently transformed into a metro app, with which he held his phone up in "selfie" position because apparently that's how he checks his metro maps.

I didn't even make a good 300 meters down the street when another gent saw me as I was coming around the corner (ugh... corners...). Hé yelled, 你好～嘿！～ (ni hao~ hei!~) Now, the issue with this is that it's a double entendre: separating 'ni hao. hei.' as two sentences means "hello. hey." However, all strung together as one sentence, "ni hao hei" means "you're so black."

Casually dumb moments like these always manage to raise my blood pressure by one point a piece. It's considered creepy to try to take candid photos of random people on the street. It's considered disrespectful and unscrupulous to make random, empty-minded comments about/to people passing by. I highly doubt China is any different. (If it is - that is to say, this is a cultural element that totally caught me by surprise, that this behaviour heralded and carries some kind of historical/literary value to it - then I'm gonna have to hit up a library then, it seems, because I totally missed it.)

In the meantime, the whole "I'm gonna be an asswipe under the assumption that you won't understand me" bullshit is getting old.

In the meantime, I'm having to calculate when to go outside now because I'm legit getting triggered by the sight of people just lifting their phones and automatically thinking they're trying to take a photo/video of me... existing, or pointing in my general direction giving me yet another dose of the zoo exhibit treatment; or hearing the word 外wài (can mean outside; amateur; foreign) and immediately assuming I've become the topic of yet another dry and empty conversation. I'm worried I might do something or say something stupid.

But I'll tell you what I WON'T do, (I'm looking at you #LiamNeeson) I WON'T walk around the neighbourhood with a weapon waiting for the next Asian person to 'try' me just so I can end that person. Even WITH the context of my situation. Even WITH the up-close-and-personal wtf moments I've had with some people here.

Yes these two guys threw me for loop. I wasn't expecting to go through this mess TWICE within the same HOUR during Chinese New Year. But of course, they were only two compared to the multitude of people who were just regular people doing regular people things, having regular people days. (I get it, there ought not be days where this would happen AT ALL, but... I'm not gonna talk about that until I see OTHER people talking about it.)

Anyway.

Therapy needed.

PS: I dont understand why my icon is now a cone 😅

#China #life in china #foreign in china #foreigner in china #cny #chinese new year #selfie #candid photography #dumbassery #reverseracism #living in china #i know im not the only one going through this #i notice too much

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sleepyracha · 6 years

Text

BTS reaction to their s/o picking up on a hobby of theirs (Maknae line)

Masterlist

Requests are open! Don't be shy, just send them in, I’ll be happy to do them :))))))

I really like this one lol, especially Tae’s. I hope you enjoy it just as much as I do. I’m currently waiting for the comeback, so I’ll most likely be up all night lmao so send in requests loves! Let me know what you think about this one

BTS reaction to their s/o picking up on a hobby of theirs (Maknae Line)

No matter how many times the two of you discussed the topic, it never changed the feelings you both felt about it. You tried to be the most understanding of the situation because you knew it was his job and something he really loved to do. You loved the enjoyment he got from bringing smiles on the faces of his fans and giving them their best memories, even if it was only for a few hours. You decided to pick up on their favorite hobbies and while some are upset they aren’t there to help you or join you, others are surprised and help you as much as they can through a screen.

Jimin

Jagi~

I miss you

Why haven’t you been returning my texts or calls? It’s been almost two weeks, have I done something wrong?

Please answer me babe

You hadn’t realized how busy you really were until Jimin began blowing up your phone.

You were auditioning for a part in a movie and it required you to dance. Of course you danced for the audition, but it was a little dance that dance line had showed you which you practiced for weeks until you could even come close to perfecting it. So when they called you for the part, you were ecstatic none the less except you had one big problem, you were shit at dancing. Cursing yourself for telling that white lie to them, you decided to tackle this yourself. You found a dance class online and they seemed legit, signing up and meeting with the choreographer, you were happy to improve in the weeks to come. Shooting starts in a few months and you wanted to make sure you were able to dance just as fluent as you were in your native language. You began to enjoy the feeling you go when dancing, it made you feel free and it was a great stress reliever, you found yourself looking forward to practice everyday. Since you were so occupied with practices and reading over your lines, you were quite the busy bee.

You decided to video call him instead of texting him back since he would most likely do that anyway. Your face was red and sweaty from your previous practice, you had just finished wrapping up a solo piece your choreographer told you to work on.

“Jagiya, is everything okay?” Jimin asked hurriedly.

“Hey baby, everything’s fine. Sorry I haven’t text you back or anything. I landed an important role for an upcoming movie and I’ve been having to practice as much as possible.” You explained, currently out of breath.

After you gulped a whole bottle of water down, you proceeded to fill Jimin in on what was happening and what exactly you were practicing for. His expression said it all, he was not happy.

“Jagi, why didn’t you tell me? I could‘ve gotten you the best choreographer for free, they owe me a huge favor anyway. I even could’ve helped you.” He stated.

“I’m sorry it was all in the moment, I wasn’t really thinking.”

“It’s okay, next time just fill me in on your life, I like to get updates too you know. I’ll contact the choreographer and you can practice with me from now on.”

“How? You’re on tour.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help you practice.”

He placed his phone against a wall in the studio he was currently at and yelled at Jungkook to join him. After Guk gave you a cute smile along with a ‘hi’, they went ahead and performed a dance they had been practicing. They were so good and you watched with amazement, your jaw dropping slightly every time they did a move you knew you would struggle with. They just flowed with the music so naturally and you wish it were the same for you. They ended their dance with a silly little move and you couldn’t help your bursts of laughter. You were glad you told Jimin, You knew he would try his best to help you until you were confident enough in yourself. But you also know that whenever Jimin got back to his hotel room, you two were going to have a lengthy discussion about your absence and the reason for it.

(the second gif is my favorite look on him. idk he looks so good in every outfit there’s just something about that outfit.)

Taehyung

“Oh, oppa look at what I bought!” You excitedly ran over to your desk and jumped back onto the bed. You showed Tae your new vintage camera with wide eyes and a big smile. He couldn't help but mirror your smile, his adorable box smile coming on display.

“Jagi, we can take pictures together now! When did you get it?”

“I bought it about two weeks ago, I just started using it like three days a though. I meant to show you but I had left it in the box on the dining room table. Every time we facetime, I’m always in my room and it’s right as I’m getting ready for bed.” You simply stated, shrugging your shoulders while your head tilted to the side.

He smiled at how adorable you looked. His face got a little brighter and then went back to normal. He was taking a screenshot no doubt, you were facetiming from your MacBook while he was on his phone. You blushed a little, still not used to him, as he puts it, ‘being in awe of your beauty’. You were looking through pictures you had taken with your new camera, amazed by the way it captured such photos. You were playing around with the focal points seeing as they were what really made the pictures.

“I want to see jagi.” Tae whined turning into a baby in a matter of seconds.

Rolling your eye playfully, you turned the camera to the screen, scrolling through the pictures. His eyes wide, jaw slightly hanging, causing his lips to part a bit. He looked absolutely stunning, your boyfriend was so beautiful and you weren’t even sure if he knew that himself. Truth be told, when you bought the camera, you were thinking about how it would capture the essence of Tae’s beauty perfectly.

“Wow, those are amazing. When I get back from tour we’re going to travel and take pictures of everything. We can make our own photobook!” He yelled towards the end, getting excited about the plans he was making for the two of you.

You honestly had the best boyfriend, he went on and on about traveling and taking pictures. Getting this camera was one of the best decisions you’ve made in a long time, coming in at a close second after saying yes to Tae being your boyfriend of course.

Jungkook

You were doodling in your sketchbook when your laptop screen lit up showing your boyfriend’s face, you answered the promised facetime immediately. You sat up a little straighter and smiled. You took in the view before you, his hair was still damp from his shower, he had on a plain white tshirt and boxers. His lights were dimmed and judging from the darkness you could only assume it was late night over there, you made a quick decision mentally to make sure this call was short so he would be able to rest.

“Darling I’m all done getting ready for bed. See I told you I would call you.” He smiled.

“I see love, your hair is still wet.” You giggled. “I’m sure it’s late where you are. Don’t think this call will be long like the last one, you really need your rest, you’ll overwork yourself.” You said a bit sterner.

“I’ll go to bed once its dry. Fair enough? What’s that you’re holding?”

“Oh it’s just a sketchbook I bought like three days ago.”

“You’re drawing? I want to see!” He said, he was now fully awake, the sleepiness was long gone.

You were hesitant at first, knowing your boyfriend was quite known for being an amazing artist along with his talents in singing, dancing, and being a meme king. None the less, you turned to a page with a drawing you think you did well. You turned the sketchbook to face the screen, a gasp leaving Jungkook’s lips not even a second later.

“You drew that jagi?!”

“Yeah, I know it’s not the best but I just started and it’s not really my thing.”

“What are you talking about? It’s amazing, how did you make that look so realistic? Wow it looks like I’m actually seeing people walk around me.”

“It’s not that good Guk.”

“I’m going to laminate it.“

“Jungkook no!“

But it was too late, he already had his mind set and there was no changing that. You made a mental note to hide your book before he came back home.

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toast-tit · 6 years

Text

Buttercup

Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: language

Summary: Pictures speak a thousand words.

A/N: Junior year sucks I don’t recommend it. Also this is sort of inspired by Buttercup by Hippocampus which is a great song 10/10. I might make a part two to this, I’m not sure yet.

~ ~ ~

As the professor dismissed the class, I closed my laptop and shoved it in my bag, a million ideas racing through my mind all at once. The assignment was to write a story about a photograph with a minimum of four pages. It didn’t seem like much, but I was sort of stumped. I looked at my camera roll to see if there was anything that could inspire me at all, but I came up empty. This was going to be a rough few days.

The leaves on campus were beginning to change color and I was ecstatic to bring out my sweater collection (although I already did when classes started). Summer’s one of my favorite seasons, but it just didn’t hold a candle to the fall. I was a basic Halloween and pumpkin spice girl, I wasn’t ashamed. I reveled in my basicness.

I checked the time on my phone and saw I had about an hour to spare before I went to my last class for the day. Contently, I made my way back to my dorm room to get my books and to hopefully look at more photos to see if anything would inspire me.

Kiera, my roommate, opened the door just as I was about to unlock it and the both of us jumped. “Shit man, you scared me!” She put her hand on her chest and smiled, “Nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“You always say that, Kiera,” I rolled my eyes and entered our room. I threw my bag on my bed, taking my laptop out and opening it to a blank document. “Hey, before you leave, do you have any of your Polaroids that I could look at for inspiration?” I asked her. Kiera nodded and pulled out a shoebox from under her bed and opened it, revealing hundreds of Polaroids. “They’re precious to me, Y/N, do not lose them,” she warned.

I promised her I wouldn’t lose them and she left for her class, leaving me with hundreds, if not thousands of stories that could be told if I had the mind to conjure them. I picked up one and smiled. It was taken back in August when she and I went to a frat party with her boyfriend and had the time of our lives. We sitting on a beaten up couch, red solo cups in our hands and we were just laughing at a joke I had said. It was such a good photo, I wanted to know who took it. Turning the photo around, I noticed an inscription. It wasn’t much, just a phone number, but it was the name under it that stuck out like a sore thumb. Tom Holland, AKA, Walking Chlamydia had taken the fucking photo.

I tried to conjure up the memory that came along with this, but I came up blank. I had to be hardcore drunk that night or maybe we never crossed paths, however, I needed to find him. If he could tell me what happened that night, maybe it could be my inspiration. Saving my blank document and closing my laptop, I took the photo with me and left my dorm to search all over campus for Tom Holland.

My first thought was the frat house Kiera’s boyfriend, Harrison, belonged to. He was close with Tom since they both came from overseas. I knocked on the door and some dude opened it. “Looking for Harrison?” He asked. “Yeah, is he in?” I asked putting my hands in my pockets. The guy called Harrison’s name and soon enough, he climbed down the stairs. “Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He invited me in.

He led me to the kitchen where he opened the fridge and got the two of us sodas. “I’m actually wondering if you know where Tom is right now,” I said and Harrison stopped what he was doing and stared at me. “Are you serious?” He asked, “Are you and him...” “Jesus, no! I’ve never even met him properly,” I exclaimed. Harrison cocked his head and took a sip of the soda. “So why do you need to speak to him?” He asked.

I pulled out the Polaroid and showed it to him, “I just want to know about this night.” Harrison took the picture out of my hands and studied it. A smile crept on his face when he handed it back to me, “I remember this night.” “Can you tell me what was happening in the photo? I need to know for an assignment,” I practically begged.

Harrison nodded, “Yeah. I mean it was just a regular party-booze, loud music, and weed everywhere- although it was the first time Kiera and I had sex.” I scrunched my face, “Gross, keep going.” “We were all blackout drunk by the time Tom took this photo, you were drunkest of all. You two starting hitting on each other hardcore, which is probably why his number’s on the back of the photo,” he flipped the picture over and pointed at the phone number.

I felt the heat rise in my face. Of course I was the one to drunkenly hit on Tom. I’m surprised nothing else happened; the boy could charm anything into his pants. It was unassailable, he was hot. “Well, that helped decently, but I think I still want to hear his side,” I said, in disbelief of what Harrison told me. Maybe he recounted it wrong and confused me with another girl.

Harrison smirked and checked his watch, “He should be leaving Dunn Hall by now. You can probably catch him there.” I thanked him and took my untouched soda and left. From behind me, I heard Harrison say, “Use protection!”

Dunn Hall was a short walk from the frat house, and it was one of the most boring. There were no trees or plant life at all, just sidewalk and browning grass. It was on the edge of campus, where the caretakers took less care of it and made the college appear more rundown than it is.

As if on cue, the door opened and out came Tom Holland with a headphone in his ear, going down the stairs smoothly. He caught eyes with me and smirked, sauntering my direction. “Well well well...Y/N Y/L/N, I haven’t seen you since August,” he looked me up and down. There wasn’t much to look at, however, I wear the same fucking thing everyday.

“It should’ve stayed that way, to be frank,” I crossed my arms, “I need your help, Holland.” Tom took the headphone out of his ear and nodded, “I’m all yours, sweetheart.” “Don’t I wish,” I retorted, “You remember that party, right?”

“Love, I’ve been to multiple parties, you’re going to have to be a little clearer,” Tom smiled and my heart melted. I was susceptible to his charm, there was no lie. If he asked me out on a date, I would go without a doubt. The only reason he’s probably stayed away from me is because I haven’t openly (or soberly) thrown myself at him. It’s a bit cliche to throw every other girl under the bus like that, but I’m legit not joking. They’re all possessed by a succubus. Every last one of them.

Taking out the Polaroid, I handed it to him. “This one,” I said, “The one where you took this photo.” Tom stared at the photo and I noticed that his face had lit up. He turned the photo around and practically shoved his number in my face, giddy, “So you did have my number!”

I took back the photo and laughed awkwardly, “Not exactly. Kiera kept the photo, I never knew of its existence until today.” “A shame. I wonder what could’ve been if you called me the day after,” Tom clicked his tongue, “I’m now with Alyssa. She’s a sweet girl.”

Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “How long is it going to last?” Tom mocked offense, “Forever! She’s wife material, Y/N.” “So is every girl, Tom. But every girl can be bed material, so which one is she in your eyes?” I said back, waiting for his answer. Tom raised his hands i defeat, “You got me there.”

There was an awkward silence between the two of us. It was weird, I figured he would have something to say considering he never shuts up, especially around the female species. I started walking away from the lecture hall and he followed suit. I kept the photo in both of our eyesight and asked, “Do you remember anything at all from this night?”

Tom looked down at the photo once again and examined it hard. He shrugged and shook his head, “I was as drunk as you were, Y/N.” Suddenly, his eyes turned huge and he stopped in his tracks. “I think I may have a video or photo on my phone though!” He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, quickly looking for anything from that night.

I waited impatiently for whatever he could pull up and when I saw his face pale, I knew something was wrong. “What is it?” I asked the frowning Tom, but he didn’t look up from his phone. He finally did and put it in his pocket, “Nothing.” I scoffed, “Unbelievable. Tom what’s so bad about whatever’s on your phone that you can’t show me?”

Tom rolled his eyes and took out his phone. He turned it around and showed me my worst fear: a picture of me and him practically on top of each other in what seemed like a closet. With my finger, I tilted the phone down and processed my thoughts. Tom and I drunkenly made out two months ago and the both of us didn’t remember. Tom Holland and I, the most unlikely pairing of all.

He cleared his throat and began to apologize, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I never even realized that we did that. I just remember the flirting. I swear I wouldn’t take advant-“ “You’re fine, Tom. We were drunk,” I calmed him down but he didn’t look reassured.

“It’s not fine,” he protested, “We practically hooked up at a party and we can’t even fucking remember it. I don’t want to be the guy that drunkenly took your virginity, Y/N.” I stepped back and stared at him in awe. “You didn’t take my virginity, you asshat. And the photo clearly shows us making out, nothing else happened. I would’ve known,” I said, a little hurt from his words.

As if our previous conversation wasn’t important, Tom perked up and asked, “You’re not a virgin?” “Sorry to disappoint you,” I shrugged. He smiled widely, which made me nervous. “Y/N Y/L/N, I never expected a girl like you to get down and dirty with someone,” he said and stepped closer to me. I backpedaled, not wanting to be in such close proximity, but unfortunately, my back found a tree and I was pinned.

“It’s not something I flaunt unlike you,” I retorted and Tom chuckled. The way he laughed, looking at the ground and smiling before meeting me with his beautiful eyes, it did something to me. It made me realize that maybe I was somewhat in control at that party. Maybe I wanted to make out with him in a closet, and maybe I want to make out with him now.

“You’re gonna have to show me your moves, Y/L/N,” he said, leaning in to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. He then leaned in and whispered, his mouth wet against my ear, “I’ve been waiting for months now.”

Thank God I was pinned to that tree or I would’ve been on the ground in no time. Jesus Christ, even his words get to me. I raised an eyebrow, hoping my resolve was stronger than I thought it was, and asked, “What about Alyssa?” “Darling, you know I made her up,” he stroked my cheek with his thumb, “All I want is you.”

Finally, I gained the balls to remove his hand from my face and get off of the tree. “Well, it’s been fun,” I said and pulled out the Polaroid, “But I have my story now.” It was true; I knew what to write about for the class. It was going to be a short story about mutual friends finding love and such. I began to walk away from Tom and as I did so, I heard him yell, “So Friday at 8, my place?”

I didn’t say anything, but I was smiling like an idiot and redder than a cherry. It was as if Tom could see my face because not even a few moments later, he shouted, “I’ll take that as a yes!” I rolled my eyes and laughed to myself. The guy was an absolute child when it came to women, what was I going to do?

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