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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 13: The Party

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

It's been one whole year since Lily was Turned and she refuses to let it be a bummer. Time to party!

[READ IT ON AO3]

Nadya’s glad she never has to explain to anyone what the Shadow Den looked like before Jax joined the Council and made the Clanless, well, not-so-Clanless. It’s just such a different place. Sometimes that dark and dim tiny-flame-in-the-endless-night hopeful sanctuary for anyone seeking it seems like a distant dream rather than a memory.

Even if she tried, too, Nadya’s not quite so sure they would believe her.

That being said — Maricruz has really outdone herself.

Every bodega and small store in the city must be sold out of string lights. Not that Nadya’s complaining; all the bulbs put together like this form a weird kind of heated-lamp effect and being underground in the middle of January had been one of her biggest concerns about tonight.

The unofficial Fountain Square is a dazzling sight with multicolored fairy lights — and whatever stall can have streamers does have streamers stretching the whole length of the party. It’s kind of jarring when she spots the cutoff point. How everything just drops off into a dark abyss. But right now there’s probably no place safer on the entire island.

Adrian tucks his present higher under his arm and takes in the decorations with equal bewilderment. “I wonder where they’re siphoning the electricity from.”

There’s a little frown creasing between his eyebrows as he says it. Nadya knows that look and quickly diverts his attention. She doesn’t know either but she has a feeling the answer isn’t exactly on the right side of the law.

“I can’t believe you guys don’t do this for everyone.” This; a celebration for a successful year as a newbie-vampire. “Imagine what kind of party I could throw for you.”

Why is he looking at her like that? What does a 200 year old vampire have to be afraid of? Her party-planning skills are excellent, thank you very much. Or had he already forgotten the Fourth of July?

“Well, remember Nadya that for many people — especially around here — their Turning wasn’t something to look back on fondly.”

“Lily’s wasn’t.”

He’ll give her that. “Touché.” But his point still stands. “I can’t speak for some of the younger ones, but I definitely don’t remember the date on which I was Turned.”

“Because colonial America used different calendars?”

“Because we were in the middle of a war.” Which is a fair point, so Nadya concedes.

Only they’ve brought up his Turning — so of course Adrian goes uncomfortably quiet beside her. Thoughts lost a long time ago and with company way less cool than those at present. So instead she hooks her arm in his and points forward to where the alley of casual attendees empties out into the heart of the Square.

Hard to believe nearly a year ago they had sat in this very spot, Adrian on the run and Nadya just trying to keep up with everyone. They had sat together on the rim of the old memorial fountain and she just knew the weight of the injustice was something he demanded to carry. “So do something about it,” she had said — an offhanded thing when they were safe and sound.

But he had.

He had wanted to have a brand-new fountain made especially for the Shadow Den. Jax had refused, which was an argument Nadya’s too happy to recall at the moment, but his reasons were sound. Instead they worked together to renovate the one already down here. It wasn’t just a place to remember the lost and mourned; it was as much a part of the community as Jax, or Lily, or even little Lula.

Now, with cracks filled-in and worn edges sanded back to definition, the memorial stone in the heart of the Shadow Den was no longer something to avoid looking at. Now the pictures and names and memories of gone loved ones could be celebrated. As they were meant to.

Adrian takes it in; his passion project, his apology letter to the Clanless community. This can never make up for what we’ve done — but it’s a place to start. He starts blinking rapidly and Nadya squeezes his arm to draw him out of his somber appreciation.

Lily would kill her if she found out someone was crying at her party.

They leave their presents on a small pile by the fountain rim. What did you get someone for surviving death for the first time around — well Lily hadn’t wanted presents so much as the party itself, but if anyone wanted to bring something for the community they were more than welcome to.

As if Nadya could ever attend a party and not bring a gift.

“Nadi’Nadi’Nadi’Nadi’!”

Incoming. She braces herself for literal impact and somehow still manages to stumble as the whirlwind of child vampire comes at her like a tiny freight train. Pulls little Lula back to hold her at arms’ length and grin down at those tiny fangs and sparkling eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” she takes care not to ruffle the young girl’s hair, done up all special for the party with curls that look suspiciously like Maricruz’s, “wow, look at your dress!”

Lula spins in her frilly little frock, on one foot and with arms spread out, while her stuffed elephant is dangerously close to being hurled into oblivion. “D’you like it, do you do you doyou?”

“I feel like I’m looking at a movie star.”

Nadya elbows Adrian for good measure. He startles only a bit this time. “Absolutely,” he agrees, “you look like a little Shirley Temple.”

“Who?” Lula asks with her head cocked, and Nadya quickly slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“I’m gonna let you handle that one.”

And if he’s going to try and get out of it the way Lula suddenly latches onto him insisting she knows stops that in its tracks. Nadya just winks and skirts off while she still can.

Because there’s only one place to find Lily Spencer at any party — and that’s exactly where Nadya finds her. Digging around in the wires underneath what looks like a pretty expensive DJ rig with wire strippers between her teeth and tangled electrical tape in her determined grasp.

She crouches down and taps Lily on the forehead. “Anything I can do?”

“I’ll call you if I want it to break.”

Not that they don’t grin at one another — Nadya’s fully aware of her technological ineptitude. Still she makes herself comfortable to watch a master work her art.

“You remember this is your party, right?”

“Uh-huh, your point?”

“Shouldn’t someone else be doing that?”

Stupid questions get stupid answers; in this case a look that’s so withering Nadya will see it every time she so much as trips on a shoelace. So she tries something else; “Where’re Mari and Jax?”

Lily spits out the roll of tape and Nadya grabs it before it can disappear in the crowd of feet. “Jax and Arnold are bringing in the kegs. Someone needed a boss so Mari went off. Hand me that, no, that thing right — no to your left.”

“You just said right!”

“Your other right!”

Lily all but yanks the god-knows-what from her hand and Nadya flicks her roommate’s nose for the trouble. “Don’t hang out under here for too long, okay?”

“Nadya — I can’t just sit by and not have a banger playlist going at a party with my name on it.”

“Really, will the party gods cast you out?” She feigns surprise, and quickly scrambles off of the small temporary stage before divine retribution comes upon her.

“You’d better run, Al Jamil!”

Only… Lily can’t see around the booth, so she doesn’t know just how right she is.

After all, why would anything ever go right for her? Why would she think she could enjoy a nice party and not turn to physically collide into the one person she had hoped she could just… yearn at from a safe and wistful distance?

Kamilah catches her faster than it takes her to realize she’s falling. Hands steady on her upper arms, making sure she’s not about to keel over and end up a pool of blood on the concrete underfoot.

Talk about falling head-over-heels.

“Uh — thanks for that…” says Nadya sheepishly, but Kamilah doesn’t respond. She just stares, eyes practically squinting, before leaning back with a nod.

“What,” Nadya pales, “something on my face?”

The woman shakes her head. “No. I was merely checking to make sure you had your contacts in.”

Oh. “Y-Yeah. Lily likes to — well this dance she invented is just spinning around and with her new speed I really didn’t want them to pistol-whip someone in the face.” Is she rambling?

Wow, she’s rambling. And Kamilah notices it too; likely in the same moment. The smile it gets is small but there. Like a secret between them even in the small crowd.

It makes Nadya feel not-so-bad for having one of her own.

“Thanks for coming,” she switches the subject quickly, “dunno if you know but… it—it means a lot to Lil’.” And to me.

Kamilah’s words are careful and measured. “Well then, you may tell Lily that I am grateful for the invitation. And wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to see her… enjoying herself.”

So this is a thing they’re going to be doing, huh.

Before Nadya can answer there’s a shrill whistle that makes the entire crowd—save herself—flinch. Sensitive vampires and whistles do not go well together.

A gaggle of angry glares all whip over to where Jax is smirking at the entrance to another alley of stalls. He lowers his fingers from his lips and motions at them with a wave. Before Kamilah even gets the chance to consider declining, Nadya nudges her with insistence. “Come on, we’re not gonna be those people.”

“And which people would that be?”

“The ones who get social restraining orders on each other.”

She doesn’t mention it, but Nadya doesn’t miss the little bit of relief that crosses Kamilah’s face under a string of purple lights.

Jax has alcohol (some thankfully not from a keg, though she knows Lily can and will live her fantasy of a keg-stand at some point tonight) which, thank god honestly. It helps that he’s with her too — because someone has to be here to back her up when Nadya will try to convince the world Kamilah takes a bottle of cheap beer from Arnold with a thanks and a long drink.

Adrian joins them shortly after; the huff he gives at Nadya with no real heat behind it. “Nu-uh,” she drinks her cider to avoid laughing too hard, “you dated yourself back there, old man.” Which makes Jax and Kamilah give equally confused looks — so of course the laughter can’t be contained.

Halfway through her bottle there’s blowback on unseen speakers — followed by chill-yet-classy electronica. When Lily’s sliding in with a manic delight that could only mean she’s ready to do something crazy…

Though she wants to wait for her grand ‘stand until Maricruz can admire her for it.

The music acts like a beacon. Summons vampires and humans alike from their scattered conversations and to the Square for dancing. Lily doesn’t give Nadya a choice in joining her — but her two left feet are a compliment to her best friend’s two right ones and they make it work.

Jax, too, gets dragged in with them — who in their right minds could possibly turn down Lula for anything, ever — and its with absolute amusement that Nadya watches the older seamstress Evelyn accost Adrian for something that’s a little too much like a swing for the current beats-per-minute.

And then there was one.

Under the guise of “needing a change in pace ohmygod,” Lily shoves Nadya away and heads back to the stereo stage. Only someone horrendously oblivious would think she wasn’t trying to do the obvious.

It’s Kamilah. Kamilah is horrendously oblivious.

She looks down at Nadya’s offered hand with lips pursed. “This isn’t the sort of music I’m… familiar with dancing to.”

“You think anyone actually does?”

Together they look out to the dance floor. Nadya’s point is proven in every direction, and then some.

“Nadya…”

But it isn’t dancing that has Kamilah hesitating. It makes perfect sense — Nadya was stupid for thinking they even could. “Nope, you’re right, my bad. I’ll —”

The familiarity of her hand is astounding. A drink of cool water on a blistering summer day. Nadya remembers a distant thought — that she had been happy to give up those sunny afternoons without a look back if it meant being with Kamilah.

And now; laughing until she’s pink in the face while showing a two thousand year old vampire how to improvise a groove?

She still would.

An hour and a second bottle later and Nadya’s sure she might die. No really, this is what dying feels like. Tightness in her chest, she can’t breathe, tongue dry and heavy in her mouth and her pulse racing through her body and pounding in her temples.

And just what will she say with her dying breath?

“Groovy moves, Jax!”

Thus Nadya can depart this world peacefully — or at the very least fall back into Adrian in absolute hilarity with the knowledge he won’t let her fall.

Jax glares but doesn’t let it stop him. He keeps on hustling, keeps on murdering Nadya with every jerky thrust of his hips.

Cause of death: aggressive hustle.

Though if she doesn’t get some air she’ll get dizzy at the very least. Adrian helps her back by the impromptu bar where Kamilah leans against a support column.

“I was under the impression we as a society had agreed to leave disco behind.”

Adrian snorts a laugh. “You did, but I’m pretty sure you were the only one.”

“If you ever visited a disco you must have done so behind my back.”

“No, but I can’t begrudge people going out and having a good time.”

“Ah yes, I forgot who I was talking to,” Kamilah rolls her eyes so hard it makes Nadya’s head hurt, “you’ve always been Mister Fun Entertainment.”

“Hey —”

She would be happy to watch the pair of them go at it all night, really. But when Adrian stops mid-sentence its enough to make both Nadya and Kamilah turn to see where Lily is running towards them… and with an all-too-familiar widened panic in her eyes.

Just one thing, can’t they have just one thing?

“What is the matter?” Kamilah sets on her immediately, but Lily ignores her for Nadya.

“You need to come quick.”

“Where’ve you been?” She distantly remembers maybe hearing Lily call out for her girlfriend, who had been mysteriously absent for how excited she was to throw this thing. “Lil’, what’s wrong?”

“Too much talking, not enough walking.”

Lily starts to shove Nadya down the way she’d come. The older vampires follow hot on their heels.

“Lil’ — stop shoving me I’m gonna fall. I’m com—I’m coming, okay? Jeez…” She has to practically force Lily to let her walk on her own two feet. And still with no questions answered.

“They’re just up ahead.”

They. Why does Nadya’s stomach fall out of her butt at that? Probably because the only ‘they’ in her life lately have been crazy killer lovers, maybe, possibly?

“Come on, stop for a second.”

“No, I don’t wanna leave her alone with him for long.”

Well now Nadya’s thoroughly lost. Thankfully when she looks behind to the others she doesn’t seem to be the only one.

Lily takes them all passed the unofficial border of the party; where the lights don’t reach but a few stragglers chat and feed with donor’s permission by candlelight. The farther they go the worse her anxiety; but there’s no stopping now.

They finally round the roasted cashew cart and her brain doesn’t really register the fact that there’s nothing to immediately panic about.

Maricruz looks up at them with her arms crossed over her chest, expression set grim. Behind her Nadya vaguely recognizes the entry to one of the Den’s closed-off feeding areas — because apparently performance anxiety was a thing vampires could have.

“Are you okay baby?” Lily asks, and immediately slots herself against the other woman’s side. Maricruz nods and kisses her temple — but it’s an absent act; a physical reaction. Her mind is definitely elsewhere.

“‘M fine, cariña.”

“But —”

“He’s almost done.”

He pushes aside the curtain before Nadya, Adrian, or Kamilah can even begin to process what’s going on. He has to duck because obviously the Den wasn’t built with people his height in mind.

Cadence thumbs away a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth almost sheepishly. Despite having—apparently—just fed he looks haggard; hair tied back in a messy ponytail but falling around his face almost gaunt in the hollows of his cheeks.

He hauls up the strap of his shoulder bag a bit higher and only then realizes they have company. Even his smile is exhausted.

Nadya knows that if she opens her mouth right now the only thing that will come out is some variation of “what the literal crap” so she does the smart thing… and keeps it shut.

But… is anybody gonna say anything? Anything at all?

“You know this man?” asks Kamilah, clipped and curt behind her. It takes Nadya a second to realize she’s asking Maricruz.

The smuggler kicks at the dirt under her heel. “Kinda.”

Adrian almost sounds relieved. “Cadence — what are you doing in New York?”

When did you get here? Why didn’t you tell Kathy? How the heck is this my life right now? Nadya still doesn’t say a word though which is probably for the best.

Though, thankfully, her stomach totally bottomed out on the run over here. So when the blond vampire looks right at her there’s nowhere lower it could possibly go.

“I’m here because I need the Bloodkeeper’s help.”

Silence.

When someone speaks; Nadya’s as surprised as any of them when she recognizes the voice as her own.

“We should talk about this somewhere else.”

“I agree.”

“C’mon,” Maricruz jerks her head back to the heart of the Shadow Den; the party still swings without them, “we’ll go back to Matsuo’s.”

Not that they have many other options — and even if they did Maricruz is already marching on, Lily’s hand in hers, very much not looking back. They all start to follow — or nearly all.

They’re already around a corner when Nadya notices Kamilah isn’t with them.

She looks back and the look on the vampiress’ face is… scary. Part of that fear is because she recognizes it too-well; because it’s the reason the two of them are the way they are right now.

The rest of it is because it’s so sudden; it takes Nadya by surprise.

“Kamilah?” she calls, and distantly hears the footsteps ahead of her stop, “Are you coming?”

It almost looks like she isn’t.

Then one step forward, and another, like she’s remembering how to walk. Nadya follows slow and purposefully at her side the whole way there.

The first thing Nadya realizes once the door closes behind them — she’s stuck in a tiny apartment full of vampires. And it’s not like control has ever been on her side when it comes to these kinds of things.

Hopefully it won’t take long.

“I take it you haven’t made much progress with the Amulet?” Cadence asks, though judging by the already apologetic way he looks at Nadya he already knows the answer. “I see, I’m sorry to know that.”

“Why are you here?” It’s Kamilah who cuts to the chase; abrupt and almost rude; and she’s not the only one who realizes it.

Adrian throws Kamilah a look but it isn’t returned. She hasn’t looked away from Cadence from the moment he’d left the feeding den.

To his credit, the blond vampire remains calm even under her aggressive scrutiny. Not many can. “I came to try and help if I could. I spent a decade trying to find it; and though it might not have been any use to me personally I thought some of my research —” he pats the bag now resting in his lap, “— might prove useful.”

Which is great if it’s true. But Kamilah’s suspicion might just be rubbing off on her. Something about his attitude isn’t holding up.

“Why doesn’t Kathy know where you are?”

He doesn’t look away fast enough. Nadya doesn’t miss the flash of pain over his features. “This was an impulsive decision. I was going to tell her once I’d settled in… and once you had decided whether or not to accept my help.”

Adrian’s arms cross over his chest. “When did you arrive?”

“Just this afternoon. I spent the daylight hours at the train station and sought you out the moment I could. I have no desire to repeat what happened with Izzy.”

“Good move on your part.”

But Kamilah isn’t having it.

“I thought I was clear when I told you never to return to New York. Should I have followed it with a threat?”

“The threat was well-implied, Miss Sayeed.”

“And yet here you are.”

“I would think the threat the Amulet’s secrets pose were worth the risk.” He raises an eyebrow; meets her toe-to-toe and doesn’t back down. Nadya would be impressed if she didn’t know how badly things like this usually ended. And not against Kamilah’s favor.

“Do not speak to me of risks. I know better than anyone —”

Then Adrian is between them; Nadya didn’t register the distance slowly closing between the confronting vampires until he’s got a hand on each one’s shoulder and, from the looks of it, struggling to hold his fellow Council member back.

“Kamilah,” he tries to chide; actually has to swerve his head to get her to look away from Cadence and at him, “why are you acting like this?”

She doesn’t answer, but Nadya can guess pretty well on her own. Can’t say she hasn’t been feeling a little of that apprehension rolling off of the woman in waves herself, but she’s hoping it’s just Bloodkeeper projecting and not something she really feels.

But Cadence takes her silence as an opportunity to back down; literally. Instead he looks to Nadya.

“Not only that, but I wanted to apologize to you; to all of you.”

“For what?” Which might just be her stupidest question to date.

“For my actions at Persephone, and for not being there to try and give this kind of help before. But when night fell and I was able to get to the others, you’d already left Louisiana.”

She shrugs. “It was important we got back.” She had things to do after all. Vampires to break up with. Relationships to ruin. Depression to cry over.

“Of course, and I understand that. And I won’t do you the disservice of sitting here and saying my actions and intentions are entirely altruistic ones. I want to help you because it’s the right thing to do. But I hope you might return my offer with help of your own. Help only you, Nadya, can provide.”

And there it is. I’m here because I need the Bloodkeeper’s help.

Nadya holds up a hand to her friends before they can say anything in her stead. Whether they were planning to or not — she deserves the chance to speak first. They can’t begrudge her that, can they?

It’s her power. She can do what she wants with it. And frankly, after all the grief it’s caused her, the thought of doing some good with it is nice.

“You want me to try and find your memories.”

“Yes,” and it helps that he seems almost apologetic for asking, “because I hate to admit it — and I think I’ve been avoiding admitting it for some time now — you might be the only avenue I have left. Every single lead has come up dry. It’s been a century now… and I’m tired of getting my hopes up if I’m honest.”

Nadya wrings her hands together in her lap. “I don’t… I mean I want to help, Cadence, please understand that. And if I know that I can then yeah, let’s do it. But this isn’t something I have control of. I don’t even know if it’ll work.”

“It will.”

“I thought you weren’t getting your hopes up?”

“You misunderstand, see I know it will — because it already has.”

The only one who doesn’t look surprised is Maricruz, but she also doesn’t seem to have been paying attention since this began. She looks at Lily and judges the context from there.

Though even among those in the know the reactions are mixed. Adrian looks the good kind of surprised and that’s sensible; he was the first one to try and help after all. But Kamilah couldn’t be more opposite; she melts the emotion away easily but not before Nadya has a chance to see it for what it is — fear.

And Cadence, well, he’s getting kind of excited. “I’ve always known I served on account of the uniform, but I’ve never had a lick of a memory about the war itself. But now I do, Nadya, I do. It was so small, a roaring engine and fellow soldiers and what I think were bombs falling in the trenches. All fragments, really. Beautiful, wonderfully complex and confusing fragments. And it’s all thanks to you.” He leans forward and takes her hands in his. Nadya can’t tell if she’s the one shaking, or he is, or maybe they both are.

“Flechette, remember? You and Izzy.”

And she definitely remembers now. Awakening from unconsciousness, Isadora de la Rosa having been digging around in her head like she was an abandoned bin of winter clothes in the back of a garage. Cadence had been unconscious, and when he’d come to…

He sees the recognition across her face. “I should apologize for that, too. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, and it was so fleeting… but you know how strange it is, don’t you. To have your entire life, all the things you can point to and know and name, and then suddenly there’s something new. Something you can feel in your bones is the truth.”

When Nadya swallows it feels like there’s glass in her throat. “And… you’re looking around, and you know what’s going to happen next because you—you lived it. But then you didn’t, and you’re still surprised.”

“But like a dream it never lasts long.”

“And you’re left wondering what was real and what was your imagination. Yes.”

If Nadya had known how good it would feel to have someone understand — actually understand; not because the memories were theirs but because they didn’t know what was going on just like she didn’t know what was going on — she would have laid out a red carpet for the guy.

Calling it nice doesn’t even scrape against what it really is, but there’s a relief there too. She holds on to that.

“You’re my last shot, Nadya,” Cadence insists; Nadya believes him utterly, “not only that you’re the only shot that’s yielded results. I think I’d given up a long time ago and not even realized it. Because to have hope for the first time… well, ever?”

She nods. She gets it — and not just because the longer her body heat has the chance to seep into his skin the more that starts to bleed through the cracks. Nadya yanks her hands away but luckily he doesn’t seem too insulted.

Adrian clears his throat and draws their attention. Pulls them out of their little world of someone who gets what it’s like to be someone and yourself and not knowing who either really is.

“Actually, this is a unique opportunity to study an actual measure to your abilities, Nadya.” He makes a point of ignoring the appalled silence radiating off of Kamilah beside him. “That is; if the both of you agree to a documented study.”

“Not a fan of how you’re making me sound like a lab rat.”

“You know what I mean.”

She does. And throwing a look Cadence’s way — he does, too.

“But we can hammer out the finer details tomorrow,” because he hasn’t missed Lily’s bouncing leg or the change of muffled music beyond the door, “because I think the hostess of the party has been away from it for long enough, wouldn’t you say Lily?”

“Lily would say,” Lily says, “Lily would definitely say.”

Cadence initially tries to back out but Lily won’t have it — though she does forget to tell him to duck before pulling him out of the apartment and he ends up stumbling with a red mark on his forehead. Maricruz follows at their heels and Adrian looks ready to join close behind — but he stops when he realizes no one else is coming along.

“Nadya? Kamilah? Are you coming?”

She knows what it looks like when someone is looking through you rather than at you. That’s why it hurts so much seeing it from eyes she’s always thought so beautiful; so boundless.

Nadya doesn’t regret ever falling for Kamilah. But at times like this — when she’s more content to twist herself up in her own concerns and shut everyone; shut Nadya out — she finds herself wondering how exactly she ended up doing so in the first place.

“Yeah, Adrian, I’m coming.”

She follows him out; and this time she doesn’t look back.

#bloodbound #bloodbound fanfiction #playchoices #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #adrian raines #jax matsuo #lily spencer #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #oc: maricruz espinoza #oc: cadence smith #fic: oblivion bound #oblv: bound by destiny ii #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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wolfcrunch · 4 years

Note

75, Izuku and Kaminari, angst? It might be a weird combo idk.

this was a really fun combo to write!! i haven’t written much kaminari before, so i hope i did him justice!

Prompt #75 - Can I be alone right now?

read on AO3 - request a prompt and character(s) for me to write!

Izuku would like to think that he had a pretty good grasp on the characters that made up his class, thank you very much. Not even a year had passed since they had started here, at U.A, and Izuku would be proud to call the nineteen other members of his class his friends.

Aside from the boy being very knowledgeable in all of their quirks (although this was not something he liked admitting out loud), but he figured he knew a great deal about the individual hobbies his classmates took on, or other little quirky things about them others might not notice.

He knew that Iida always set aside an hour for reading every day, except Sunday’s where he did two. He knew Uraraka, despite her money issues, often liked to partake in homemade craft, often using disposable items that people were about to recycle. He knew that Asui (no, Tsu, he reminded himself) had a collection of pebbles and small rocks in her room, some she had been holding onto since she was a small child with a variety of colors, sizes and shapes.

Kirishima often liked to make his own little wooden figurines that he painted as gifts, thanks to his quirks. Ashido was amazingly good at cooking spicy foods, sometimes even managing to rival Kacchan. Tokoyami would take any sweaters or jumpers that somehow got left in the common room, ’borrowing’ them in his room for the time being and Jirou seemed to, surprisingly, be a big fan of classical and orchestral music. Yaoyorozu and Kouda seemed to both be fans of writing and drawing, respectively.

Last he knew, the latter two were trying to work together and make a short story about their classmates, which he honestly couldn’t wait to see.

But yes, Izuku would say that he knew all of his classmates fairly well - even Kacchan, as hostile as ever, seemed to have a fascination in reptiles of all creatures, and was currently set on getting permission from Mr. Aizawa to bring one to the dorms.

The boy didn’t know if this was normal or not…after all, before coming to U.A, he hadn’t had many, if any friends at all, reluctant to even consider that Kacchan so close…so can you really blame him, wanting to know everything he could about his classmates?

But if he was being honest…there was one classmate who despite all of this, and despite his own outwardly demeanor…Izuku had to admit that he knew the least about this particular student.

And it wasn’t that he wasn’t observing the other - it was quite the opposite, really. It just appeared that the student, Kaminari, knew how to hide his interests extremely well. It wasn’t something one would call the electricity-quirked user - secretive.

But…Izuku didn’t know what else to put to the other boy. Maybe he was just really shy with whatever it was that he liked doing? But surely he knew none of the class would laugh or make fun of him…

Not to mention that he wasn’t exactly the closest with the blond - who was usually a member of Kacchan’s small group, and the thought of asking the explosive blond leader was out of the question. Kacchan would tell him…but in his own loud, profanity-filled Kacchan-esque way.

No, if Izuku wanted to get closer to another classmate, this was the perfect opportunity. This was his chance.

And Izuku might not be the best when it came to socializing and getting together with others…but surely it couldn’t be that hard, right?

—–

"Ah, Kaminari!!“

Izuku had waited until the following Monday, carefully keeping an eye on the blond as the group finished their classes for the day, waiting until they all got back to the dorms before he decided to approach the other with a raised hand and a light call. The boy startled out of whatever conversation he’d been having with Mineta, and Izuku only felt a little bad.

Judging by the blush and slight nosebleed on Mineta’s face, he should give himself a bigger pat on the back for stopping wherever that talk had been heading.

"Midoriya?”

The other hero-in-training looked confused, and Izuku couldn’t really blame him - neither went out of their way that much to talk about one another. Izuku could only smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah, it’s about the English assignment we got today…I know you’re pretty good with English, and Todoroki’s not available to help out today…mind if we maybe work out the assignment together?”

Kaminari looked shocked, as if he’d literally shocked himself with his own quirk. “You want me…to help you?”

In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t the best excuse…but Izuku wasn’t exactly lying either. His English could be downright awful at times. Even with his admiration of All Might…it left him with something less than desired.

"I…I don’t think I could really be that helpful, eh? I’d just be distraction…“

Izuku refused to back down, "Think about it, Kaminari– you say you always have trouble writing it all down, right? We can help each other…I could even give you some notes on our Maths and Art classes-”

Kaminari moved in the blink of an eye, snatching Izuku’s arms. “Why didn’t you say anything before?! Man, not that I appreciate help from Kacchan, but he can be a reaaaal bummer!”

Izuku smiled at the use of his childhood friend’s nickname, letting the other teen start to drag him along towards the elevators. “So I take that as a yes?”

“Totally!! Oh, dude, we’re gonna have soo much fun!” It seemed as if Kaminari forgot the whole reason they were doing this already, “We’ll go to my room…no offence, but studying and doing homework, All Might watching me from every corner? A real creepy vibe, dude.”

"Haha, yeah…….wait, what?“

—–

"Just throw your stuff wherever ya need to, bro!”

Izuku had seen the blond’s room once - when they had first moved in. He’d been…surprised, sure, by the others taste. But this…

“What an…interesting set up…”

Izuku had no clue where to look first. Kaminari just grinned, trotting right in and all but dumping his schoolbag onto the small table in the middle of the room, books spilling out as he searched through to find his English book.

And that’s when Izuku saw it.

A small notebook slid out, falling off the edge and landing on the floor with a quiet thump. Kaminari, too engrossed in finding the correct schoolwork, didn’t notice as Izuku walked over, picking up the notebook carefully in both hands.

It seemed to be about the same size as most of his quirk analysis notebooks…and it seemed extremely worn out, like it had been used a lot. On the front, in big kanji, was just one word that make the unruly-haired teen’s eyes lighten up in excitement.

‘QUIRKS’

Ehhh?! Kaminari keeps a book on quirks?! I mean, I guess it could be anything really…maybe he just thinks of quirks that would be cool to have? Or maybe…

“Hey, Kaminari? I never knew you were one for liking to know things about quirks!” Izuku proclaimed, waving the book around shyly with a hand as the blond’s head whipped up to look at him with wide eyes. Izuku just grinned, turning the notebook over in his hands, almost admiring it. “We should compare notes sometime! It’d be interesting to see how different or alike our notes could be…do you keep updated on heroes or just the class?”

As Izuku spoke excitedly, his scarred fingers began to open the cover of the book. He had no time to react to what came next. As fast as a snake striking, Kaminari’s hand grabbed onto Izuku’s wrist, squeezing tightly as the other hand grasped the book, snatching it out of Izuku’s own.

All Izuku could do was give some sort of yelp of surprise, yanking his hand back hard enough to almost stumble the other teen with his eyes wide.

A throbbing pain started in Izuku’s wrist, and he hissed, covering it with his free hand. “What was that for?”

The One for All user hadn’t seen how Kaminari’s face darkened, snapping back. “You shouldn’t open up other people’s stuff, Midoriya.”

Izuku had never heard as much malice in the others tone, and even Kaminari seemed caught off guard, taking a step back. “Holy crap dude, I didn’t mean to snap!” he murmured apologetically, keeping his distance as he set the notebook aside on his shelf. “Really, I was way out of line…my notes aren’t any good though, sorry to grab you like that. Is your wrist alright?”

“Ah…yeah, it’s ok…” Izuku mumbled , stretching his fingers before looking at the boy who’d lashed out. “It should be fine.”

“Let me go get you an ice pack from downstairs!” Kaminari insisted, hurrying towards his door. “We can compare notes when I get back, if you’re still up for it?”

“…sure.”

Izuku didn’t like the unease crawling in his gut, listening halfheartedly as the other told him to sit down and wait before dashing out. Izuku’s free hand tentatively rubbed at his sore wrist, frowning slightly at the force his classmate had decided to use.

Man, I mean, he’s right…but I’ve never seen Kaminari react like that before, and I know he tends to let other people get way closer than that…

An uneasy thought nagged at him, suggesting that perhaps the other had been hiding something within the notebooks contents - but Izuku decided to push that away with a shake of his head. This was Kaminari, after all, one of the nicest people in the class! Surely he, of all people, wasn’t hiding anything to warrant that kind of reaction…

But…

Izuku found himself carefully, quietly heading to the very same shelf Kaminari had put the notebook in the middle of the conflict, only hesitating for a few moments before he reached out, taking the item and sighing softly.

This feels really bad but…I feel like something’s…

Izuku couldn’t really put his finger on the unnatural, bad feeling about it all.

He opened the book–

only for the first page to be empty.

Frowning, Izuku flipped through the next five, that were equally as blank, and stopped for a moment, eyes raking down the page critically.

Is it invisible ink maybe? Or maybe he hasn’t even written anything…

But the hero student flipped to the next page, and his throat ran dry. For this page was full…very full. He nearly dropped it, green eyes frantically scanning the pages.

His stomach crawled as he read the information on the page.

Name: Aoyama Yuuga (Hero Name: Can’t Stop Twinkling)

D.O.B: 30/5/2XXX

Quirk: Naval Laser

Strengths: Able to shoot out laser in various spots with hero costume. Hyper-aware of surroundings. Able to bend his own light in various shapes. His quirk is exceptionally powerful on its own, and he has deadly accurate aim.

Weaknesses: Stomach hurts after using quirk at full-blast for 10-20 seconds. Has a bit of an ego. Body isn’t very adaptable to his quirk without his belt. Seems to be the odd one out in the class, and acts strangely around them - stands out.

Aoyama seems to think extremely highly of himself, and it would be quite easy to go under the guise of a fan of his, or even a civilian asking about what he calls his “fashion sense”. He loves anything related to France, as well as cheese. Not terribly too smart, but not one you would want to mess with, either. Has not yet trained himself in much when it comes to hand-to-hand or quirkless battling, and being hit with his quirk isn’t an option. Close range battling is best for taking him out.

Rating: 1/5. Body is too unstable to use for different quirks - however his quirk, with the right base, would be acceptable for H.E.N Project #021

and that wasn’t all - in any clear space were pictures of the boy himself in all his glory, for once unaware a photo had been taken. There was also a picture taken of the boys hero costume, little bits of writing detailing every part, and even where he would be most vulnerable to strike.

On the next page stated more information about the other blond in their class - his birthplace, current address, and even the basic information about his immediate family - and their quirks, too!

What the hell is all of this…? And this H.E.N Project…

Izuku wanted to put the book down and leave, feeling a chill go down his spine…but the boy kept going, flicking through the pages and feeling his stomach sink even lower with every filled page he came across.

Ashido Mina

Asui Tsuyu

Iida Tenya

Uraraka Ochako

Mashirao Ojirou

Kirishima Eijirou

Kouda Koji

Satou Rikido

Shouji Mezou

Jirou Kyouka

Sero Hanta

Tokoyami Fumikage

Todoroki Shouto

Hagakure Tooru

Bakugou Katsuki…

and finally,

Midoriya Izuku

Izuku didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, staring at the bottom of Kacchan’s final page before turning it to his own, not sure what he was suppose to be expecting. Well, what he had been expecting, at the least, was writing about as detailed as all his other classmates.

But how wrong he was.

Kaminari’s assessment on him didn’t only have pictures on the hero student himself - no. There were pictures of several others - heroes.

All Might and Gran Torino.

Izuku’s heart sped up, all air leaving his lungs when he also noticed older photos - not of him, but of an younger Gran Torino, of a younger All Might.

Of Shimura Nana. All Might’s mentor.

Izuku’s hands shook as he finally read the information listed, although his green eyes only stuck to one very specific part, one that just about sent the boy into pure terror at the thought of being found out.

Quirk: One for All.

Counterpart to All for One. One for All allows Midoriya to have access to immense speed and strength. He is currently the ninth holder, inheriting the quirk from All Might, and is likely being trained to be the next Symbol of Peace. One for All grows as the holder grows and mends with the quirk themselves, meaning that Midoriya’s output will eventually be much stronger than that of All Might in his prime. It also appears that One for All can influence the user whenever stuck under any quirks that capture their mind, or force them to go against their will. One for All is not able to be stolen, and can only be passed with the holder’s permission. This quirk can cause dreams forced by those previous, some of which can cause the quirk to lash out violently whilst the current user is sleeping.

No…no way…Kaminari…

He know’s about One for All!

Izuku slammed the book shut, putting the book back where he found it as he stumbled back, eyes wide and body almost trembling. His hands found their way to the straps of his backpack, clutching tightly.

He knows about One for All…I know I’ve almost spilled it a couple of times, but there can’t be any way he could’ve heard one of my talks with All Might, or even Kacchan…No one else would’ve told him. No one else knew the secret and Kaminari well enough to talk about it, especially not to his face! What the heck am I suppose to tell All Might?!

…..

Unless…

All for One.

It felt as if cold water had been thrown over Izuku at the suggestion conquered up…logically, there was no other way the electric quirked boy knew but…

Kaminari…working with All for One? The League of Villains…?

…it all made too much sense. The attacks. The camp. Kacchan’s kidnapping and Kamino…everything.

He felt sick. Emotions coiled and squeezed at his insides, as if stones were weighing him down under water, and Izuku wasn’t aware of how hard he had been biting his lip, the coppery iron taste of blood filling his mouth. His face paled at what exactly he was accusing the other boy of.

Of being a traitor…

I have to go…I can’t be here, it’s too dangerous–

He couldn’t take the book with him. It would arouse too much suspicion. Izuku turned his back on the notebook, hurrying to the door, which Kaminari hadn’t closed behind him. But just before he got out to the hallway–

“Midoriya? Dude, you alright? You’re looking kinda pale there.”

Izuku jumped almost several feet in the air, whipping around in fright as Kaminari appeared at the other end of the hallway, coming to meet him with an ice pack in one hand. The One for All user couldn’t help but step back, earning a puzzled look from the blond.

“Midoriya…?”

“A-Ah, sorry Kaminari…something came up,” Izuku couldn’t stop the stutter in his voice, pulling on his bag straps and forcing a wane smile across his face in an attempt to convince the other. “My, uh, my mum called me. Something happened at home and I– I just really gotta go and sort this out, you know? I need to…can I be alone right now?”

Izuku’s gaze averted to the carpet hallway flooring, toeing at the material before he made to go around Kaminari, giving him another uncertain smile. “Thanks for the ice pack, but my wrist barely hurts–”

"Midoriya.“

Izuku blinked, and Kaminari went on the offensive. With his quirk crackling around his fingers, the blond had struck out, slamming a hand on Izuku’s chest and letting loose. All in time that was not enough for the target to react as the taller boys quirk reacted immediately, striking out.

The electricity ran its course through Izuku’s veins, setting them alight in fiery pain as he let out a shriek - one that Kaminari quickly covered up with his other hand, dropping the ice pack. Izuku’s legs gave way as the shocks zapped and crackled across his entire body, limbs locking up with Izuku’s mouth gaping open. His throat closed over, stopping any oxygen.

With a vision swimming of black and white, Izuku tried to give out a weak cry, doing his best to fight off the unconsciousness that threatened to submerge him. The sting of copper filled the back of his mouth, and Kaminari crouched besides the fallen boy, golden eyes watching him like a predator.

Kaminari, hair standing up due to the voltage of his quirk, only gave a sickly sweet smile at his classmates predicament, going to pat the cheek of the freckled boy. His voice was muffled, but Izuku could still hear him. Hear the calmness cold that took over the others tone.

"If only you had kept your hands to yourself, Deku…what a naive little hero wannabe.”

No…I can’t…All Might!! Someone…!

But the downed boy couldn’t move his mouth, his tongue as heavy as led, and the student above him sighed.

“I kinda liked your work ethic, ya know? But, well…all good things gotta come to an end, right?”

And that was the last thing Izuku heard, his body finally going into shutdown and static filling his eardrums, the unconsciousness gripping him and dragging him into the void with its deathly claws, claiming its prize.

Kaminari scowled at the now knocked-out boy, scoffing as he got up and nudged the smaller boy’s face with his foot. What an idiot.

He quickly looked, making sure no one was entering the floor nor leaving their rooms before he grabbed hold of one of Izuku’s arms, dragging him into his room and shutting the door behind him.

“That was easier than I thought…”

Dragging him across the floor, Kaminari quickly found some rope he had stored away to tie and bound the others arms and legs, shoving him all too roughly into his closet before fishing his phone out of his pocket.

The number he dialed he practically knew off by heart, and he was sure to send a password via text so that the receiver knew it was in fact him.

The phone rung three times before being picked up.

“You better have a good reason for calling, kid.”

Kaminari couldn’t help the grin that spread across his features. The giddiness that filled his being, almost wanting to make the boy prance around his room in delight.

“Dr. Tsubasa, I got him. Midoriya Izuku is ready for transport to your facility.”

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #kaminari denki #my writing #tumblr prompt #bnha fanfiction

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gwoongi · 4 years

Text

(abandoned) all i want for christmas is woohoo

kim seokjin / kim namjoon genre: uni au, fluff, crack rating: general words: 4.9k warnings: clownery, i knew nothing about uni, character dynamics based off a fic none of u have read a/n: incomplete prequel to the yoonmin fanfic i wrote three thousand years ago. i will never finish this so here’s what i started and left behind for the dogs to have at

The stranger makes a noise of voiced agreement. “Mood.”

September 8th.

One thing they never tell you before going to Uni, is that it’s fucking mental on Move In Day.

Obviously, he had some idea that the student digs would be fairly busy with students moving in, but he never expected to be waiting in a thick line of tired and excited first years for around fifteen minutes, only to then wait another twenty just for the student- who, by the way, was way too busy picking at her purple nail varnish to give two damns about Namjoon’s clearly very important moving in schedule- to find his key on the board barely 50 centimetres away from where she was sitting.

So, yeah- when his sister comes to Uni after him, he’s definitely going to warn her about the madness that is Move In Day, because clearly nobody else had cared if Namjoon was stuck waiting like a doormat for one student who thinks she’s something to hand him a key. I mean, how hard can it be? He doesn’t get it.

“Sorry about the wait,” another male student, who noticed the lack of enthusiasm from second year student apparently named Jisoo, says as he moves from behind the desk to give Namjoon a silver key on a chain, with two other keys present. “Here are your keys- one’s for the front door of your flat, second is for the main building in-case you’re late after hours and the third is for your pigeon box.” He pauses: “no help from your parents?”

Namjoon shrugs politely, “Just me. My parents are back in Ilsang, couldn’t make it.”

“Bummer,” the student replies. Along with the keys, he shoves a brown paper bag into Namjoon’s hands with a toothy smile. “Your complimentary moving in gifts, from the students who moved out! Thanks for picking Blossom Island as your student accomodation!”

Although Namjoon wants to tell him that Blossom Island was the only cheap option out of three absurdly priced accomodations for first years, he doesn’t; instead, he smiles, lips closed and dimples on display, nodding his head and turning all within the same second. The student moves away after, so he doesn’t feel bad about ending the conversation so abruptly.

Blossom Island is located smack bang outside of campus, across a small stream that Namjoon thought would be filled with blossom, but instead is littered with algae and tinfoil. It’s large, tall like a regular apartment complex, with a courtyard out the front with a bouncy castle that Namjoon can already see some people jumping on with what he assumes is their new roommates.

Namjoon leaves the lobby- should he call it a lobby? It was more of a downstairs kitchen and living room, with two small sofas and a mounted flat-screen, a pool table pushed weirdly in the middle of the colourful boxed room and a door near the back wandering into the community study area, another door for what he guesses is for laundry. Hauling his suitcase and big, cardboard box in his arms across the courtyard, he follows the number on the key- number 8, floor 6, Kyoto Building and barely makes it five steps without almost dropping the box entirely, all thanks to some jerk wearing Thrasher and a beanie.

“That��s what you get for not tying your shoelaces.”

Mid-crouch, Namjoon looks over his shoulder and spots Min Yoongi stepping out of the building, followed by a rather proud looking set of parents, preening at the fact that their son is going into Nursing. Due to that, he bites back a curse word he figures would be impolite for the elders, and manages a smile in the sun.

“What? He clearly pushed into me,” Namjoon reasons, standing upright and saying a hasty hello to Yoongi’s parents, who, in all honesty, have never really liked him much. He laughs breathily, waiting for a few seconds before asking, “where are you?”

Yoongi checks his key. “Number 13, Floor 0, Juko Building. What kind of name is Juko, anyway?”

“Beats me,” Namjoon scoffs. “I think Juko’s close to Kyoto. I’ll come visit when you’re all settled and moved in, yeah?”

Yoongi nods, already beginning to walk away. “Yeah, I’ll get your mug out ready.”

That’s the thing with Yoongi, Namjoon thinks as he walks away; he’s always been about the little things in life. In the many, many years that Namjoon has known Yoongi, he’s never really changed- Yoongi has always been compassionate and cutely caring, buying two mugs instead of one and making pasta for two when he knew Namjoon was due to visit on days his parents were working late. And he feels bad, because Yoongi is a giving guy, not a receiving one.

He watches as Yoongi leaves with his parents, and he feels weirdly sad. It’s none of his business, too, as he watches the three Min’s enter the Juko Building, painted a pastel pink with mint compliments, swirling patterns dancing as the leaves on the trees move in the whisper of wind.

Namjoon now has the urge to paint.

In Number 8, Floor 6, Kyoto Building, Kim Seokjin finally sets down the last potted plant on the sparse looking shelf above his desk, and he steps back with his hands on his hips to admire the minimal effort. Although it definitely took some struggle, what with his Dad accidentally dropping his bag with his Nintendo inside and his Mother judging his absurd amount of pink bath-towels, Seokjin has a feeling in his stomach- the feeling where you know that everything is going perfectly.

There’s a smell in the air; blossom from the large tree outside his window, propped open on the hatch to allow a breeze air out the room. Since his roomie hasn’t arrived yet, the least he can do is get rid of the stuffy smell, something strangely similar to pool chlorine. He inhales it deeply, a smile tugging at his lips. Seoul weather amazes him- even though Gwacheon is a blink away, Seokjin is already starting to feel like a new person.

Maybe it’s just University excitement. Maybe it’s University nerves. But, maybe it’s also because he really needs a wee and can’t think properly.

He waits nicely for his parents to finish up straightening every single crease in his bedsheets before saying goodbye. Although he might tease to their faces that he won’t miss them, and they won’t miss him, Seokjin knows from the minute they open the door to head back out to the corridor that it’s going to take a while to adjust to life without the nagging, but endearing, guidance of his family.

Because Seokjin has always sort of been the baby boy of the Kim’s from Gwacheon- his older brother inherited a type of broodiness that Seokjin is thankful he hasn’t got yet, and so Seokjin’s always been the favourite. The favourite crawler, the favourite footballer, the favourite baker and painter- in honesty, Seokjung never wanted any of that. Seokjin’s proud of who he is- he’s so fucking proud of his family. So he sort of takes pride in being the baby boy of the Kim family. He wears it like armour, glistening armour that represents him in front of a whole army of potential threats and friends.

Jinyoung, an old friend, used to say it was embarrassing- as if Jinyoung doesn’t have a comfortable enough life with parents who would murder for him, but Seokjin doesn’t care. Why should he be ashamed of being loved? Most families aren’t as close as the Kim’s, so he takes extra care in making sure his family know that he loves them. That’s the sort of guy he is- giving, occasionally receiving, but giving, giving his whole heart and soul to everybody else in order to make others happy.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose as the door closes with a sickening click, the noise muting around the faint buzz of traffic across campus and the baby birds in the nest a few floors down on a branch, fluttering in the wind like wings. He’s so lost in the way the small twigs are woven together, like the way a spider builds a web, or an ant a colony, that he doesn’t realise three minutes have passed.

Now he really needs a wee.

When Namjoon opens the door to room 8, he’s surprised.

Not shocked, but surprised. Because there’s a difference between shock and surprise- shock is entering a room and finding a serial killer, but surprise is walking into a room and finding a party. The difference is in the level of reaction, and Namjoon hadn’t walked in and been completely thrown off by a wall of cute posters and the obvious collection of DS games and a cool looking computer. If anything, he’s intrigued. Surprised. Pleasantly surprised, perhaps.

To the right, Namjoon hears the toilet flush and he knows that he has a couple seconds to look around the room and plonk his bags and box on the plain bed before his roommate emerges from the bathroom. As he sets them down, he casts a gaze towards the right side of the room where his roomie has claimed a bed, a desk and a small looking wardrobe near the door. On the wall next to his bed, a collection of posters have been washi taped to the boring blank canvas- although, as an artist, Namjoon considers anything blank and white to be inviting and anything but boring, because a canvas holds endless opportunities- and his bed covers are a washed out blue, a colour that now, actually, as he’s looking at it, is becoming more chiffon coloured.

It’s evident his roommate likes video games- half the posters on the wall are related to games he knows that they must like; Animal Crossing, a small Stardew Valley postcard and a commissioned drawing of Jinx from LoL, taped next to a large artwork of Mario Kart and more postcard art of games Namjoon thinks he’s heard of but isn’t sure- The Last of Us, Tekken, Zelda. He pretends not to notice the small Minecraft postcard in the corner of the mural but weirdly enough, he finds it endearing knowing that someone at University still plays Minecraft.

Most of all, Namjoon notices the strange obsession with The Sims, as seen through multiple artworks and the fantastic collection of Sims3 Expansion packs sitting on the shelf above his bed, next to pop figures and a photo frame of a group of friends.

He wonders if his roommate will let him use the expansion packs when he’s bored.

“Oh, hey.”

Clearly having not heard the bathroom door open, Namjoon spins on the spot to look back at the bathroom, where his roommate stands with his hand animatedly raised in a wave, a smile lifting his cheekbones. They look pale, almost watery, but Namjoon doesn’t say anything. He knows why.

“Hey. Namjoon,” he says, leaning forward to shake his hand. For a moment, his roommate stares at the hand, as if wondering what to do with it. “What?”

His roomie shakes his head, moving to shake his hand once, up and down, before letting it drop. “Nothing. It’s just, well, how many people give handshakes nowadays?”

Namjoon thinks it over in his head. “Well, a lot of people. Useful in business, and stuff. A manager might want to shake your hand at a job interview.”

As he says the words, Namjoon can tell by the passing look on his roommates face that he wasn’t expected to give an answer. He stops talking after that, looking back to his bed with a feeling similar to embarrassment, while his roommate moves towards the window and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Seokjin.” He finally introduces himself. Seokjin- it has a ring to it. Namjoon says it over in his head, growing familiar with it. Now that he’s mentioned it, Namjoon looks back over his shoulder and realises that he looks like a Seokjin. The name suits him. “What’re you studying here?”

“Art and Design,” Namjoon replies with a brief smile over his shoulder. Seokjin isn’t looking, anyway. “Nothing too crazy.” He looks at the wall of posters- “Are you studying graphics?”

“Yeah. I’m studying Digital Art,” Seokjin replies, and it’s clear in the way his whole body moves as he says it that he’s passionate about his subject. He laughs shortly, “Isn’t it funny how we’re both doing art and we got pushed together? Do you think that’s intentional?”

Namjoon shrugs, taking out his clothes first from one of his suitcases. “Maybe. I’m glad you’re Digital Art and not Performing Arts. One, this room is not big enough to dance and sing and two, I don’t want to be woken up by a classical alarm clock. You know?”

Seokjin laughs and it suffices as a reply.

As Namjoon sifts around his bag and pulls out the remainder of his clothes, Seokjin turns around and watches for a swift three seconds, and then moves back towards his desk and absent-mindedly moves around his keyboard, straightening it up.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, and as Namjoon turns to catch his eye, he notices he means it genuinely.

“Uh, I’m alright,” Namjoon replies, and even though Seokjin can clearly see the amount of work he has left to do to his half of the bedroom, he doesn’t pry and decidedly drops it. He shrugs.

“Alright then. I’m gonna head out,” Seokjin says. He gestures with his head to the hallway. “Out on campus, they’re doing that thing. What do they call it- Wildflower? I think I just wanna go meet some people. I can wait for you, and we can go together, if you want?”

Namjoon does want. He really wants to. But he takes several glances back at his boxes and frowns deeply. And anyways, he’ll have plenty of time to hang out with Seokjin later, won’t he?

“I’ll pass,” Namjoon rejects him softly, a smile on his lips as if to say, I do want to come but I’m way too busy. Seokjin’s lips twitch into a pursed mouth and he nods. “I’ve just got a lot to do. We could hang out later, if you want?”

“Sure,” Seokjin replies, already inching towards the door. “Yeah, alright. If you need help, just text me. I’ve got my number on the pinboard above my desk- just incase, you know?”

Namjoon glances over; surely enough, on a corkboard pinned to the wall above his desk and beneath the shelf, he can see the sleek black letters printed with “emergency number” written next to it in messy handwriting. He smiles, mostly because he’s never seen someone have their own phone number hung up in their room before, and nods without looking in Seokjin’s direction. “Okay, thanks, Seokjin-ssi.”

Seokjin makes a sound similar to a laugh, air through his nose, a small intake of high pitched breath afterwards. Out the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see him hovering his hand over the handle and to be polite, he finally looks over. Something tells him he was waiting for that.

“Seokjin should be fine,” Seokjin replies with a smile.

By the time Namjoon finishes sorting out his things (and by sorting out, he means that he’s hung up his clothes and kicked the cardboard box towards his desk out of the way), Seokjin’s still not back from Wildflower, and quite frankly, he’s bored.

As if by a magnetic pull, he finds himself leaving Kyoto building to trudge in the mid-move-in-manic, across the small courtyard where the bouncy-castle has deflated thanks to someone jumping on it wearing shoes, and towards Juko building, a big clump of pastel next to the white blossom tree that Namjoon is jealous of. Yoongi’s room, even back at his home in Daegu- where Namjoon had lived throughout his entire high-school life before his parents moved back to Ilsang during his final year-, was somewhere Namjoon had felt completely and utterly accepted. At home.

He always found it funny how Yoongi said the same thing for him- his bedroom back home was small, smaller than the dorm room he has now. It was an average room, with small bold letters spelling out his name on the front of his door, and his walls were painted a navy blue with dark wood floors that went through the entire house, with thrown around covers and three pillows to sleep with and furniture which didn’t match the colours. But Yoongi’s room was different. Yoongi’s room was Yoongi.

Slanted ceilings and an off-white coloured paint-job on the walls, with grey curtains and white sheets and an electric piano pushed up against the window-wall, overlooking a small line of houses out the front of the street Yoongi lived on, a tree that turned orange in October. On his walls, Yoongi liked to keep it minimal, minus the posters of his favourite artists and a little area above his desk for pictures of him and Namjoon, his first family pet, a ticket to his first family vacation when he was thirteen, dried flowers from a tiny bundle he was given on a Valentine’s Day. His first Valentine’s gift. A memory. A wall of memories, stuck with shimmery tape and dried blue-tac on the white, unremovable, stuck like glue. It was everything Namjoon wanted in a room. It was everything Namjoon needed in a place to feel completely and utterly safe.

Namjoon wasn’t surprised that Yoongi had stuck with the bland style of dorm room, compared to the bed next to him which his roommate- a kid studying Music with an incredible obsession with BoA and Michael Jackson- who, even though he was an amazing artist, Namjoon always felt weirded out by.

He stands by the doorframe as Yoongi shuffles to straighten his blanket at the end of his bed, simply looking at the decor, taking it all in with a deep breath. His roommate stared at Namjoon waiting in the doorway and pulled his lips to a frown, excusing himself, “...heading to Wildflower, bye,” being the only words he ever said to Namjoon.

“Namjoon, I hate it.”

“You’ve been here for two hours,” Namjoon frowns, sitting on his roommate’s bed. He won’t mind (only he does, and he notices the imprint of Namjoon’s arse left behind which he thought would disappear after five minutes.) “It’s not that bad, surely?”

Yoongi shakes his head adamantly. “I wanna go home, Joon. I don’t wanna do nursing.”

“You might really like it, though,” Namjoon sighs. “You never know!”

“I don’t want to study nursing,” Yoongi repeats himself through pouted lips that Namjoon can hear. “I wanted to do art, or music like my stupid roommate. I don’t know why I’m here, Namjoon, I really don’t know why I’m doing this to myself.”

Namjoon knows it’s hard for Yoongi. His family expect too much- like most parents, actually, Yoongi knows they want the best for him. But, the best isn’t forcing him into a nursing degree.

Toying with the frays on Yoongi’s roommate’s blanket, Namjoon says, “hey, hey, calm down. It’s fine- if you don’t like the first three classes, you can’t be expected to stay. You’ve got to do what you want to do.”

Yoongi bites his lip before replying. “I have nowhere to go if I drop out. I’ll do a year, maybe. Maybe half a year. Oh, I don’t fucking know. I don’t wanna give up and let down my family, you know?”

Namjoon does know. His parents had wanted him to be a lawyer. His sister, Kyungmin, wanted Namjoon to do something with his music. But, like the delinquent he is, Namjoon always knew he had a passion for art. Drawing made him happiest- letting his thoughts draw something on a blank canvas was the closest thing to real magic. Singing your feelings is one pleasure, but capturing the colours and movements onto paper was something Namjoon found absolutely rewarding. Thankfully, his parents knew there was no point in forcing him into doing something he wouldn’t enjoy. He was lucky.

“Yeah, I know.”

Yoongi knows Namjoon knows, and he also knows Namjoon doesn’t know what to say. He pulls at the bridge of his nose and lets out a low grunt. “Anyway. How’s your roomie? A weirdo?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No, not really. I mean, he’s really into video games but it’s not overbearing. Kinda endearing. He’s fun. Seokjin.”

“Oh, cool,” Yoongi replies, nodding slowly. “You get all the good stuff, you know that?”

“What’s mine is yours,” Namjoon says with a frown.

At that, Yoongi smiles. “Yeah. I know, Joon.”

Wildflower lives up to the frantic Google search that Seokjin did moments before heading down to check it out. Even before arriving, he could smell the variety of foods on rickety stalls, and hear the experimental strum of a live band getting ready to play near the main building to the University campus.

Ducking his head underneath the waving arm of another female first-year, Seokjin took a stroll around the small section of Wildflower, politely looking at the bits and bobs he could purchase, like complimentary University flags and tapestries for walls, or a coffee where the change went to a local suicide-prevention charity. He bought one, a tea that was too milky for his taste, and continued walking.

He hadn’t bought much change with him. After the rather awkward first meeting with Namjoon, Seokjin had let it slip his mind. Regardless, he wasn’t willing to let the lack of coins and a credit card spoil his First Day mood. Inhaling the smell of a nearby Jjinmandu stand, he let his stomach steer him towards it, collecting the spare change in his pocket- luckily for him, he had around 4,000 in his jacket pocket which more than comfortably paid for a portion of Mandu.

“Here you go,” the server hands Seokjin his small paper dish of Jjinmandu with a smile, a smile that reminded Seokjin of his third-year teacher back when he was a child. Warm, inviting, kind, a mother’s smile. She smiled toothily when Seokjin handed her more than he was being charged, saying it was a tip, first day luck, or something. She bowed her head meekly.

Without wanting to hold up the slightly growing line, Seokjin moves out of the way and towards a small cluster of metal tables and chairs, shivering as the umbrellas moved in the wind, passing the sauces with a thoughtful pause. He has time to kill; he puts his dish on the small counter and puts a tiny blob of sauce in the corner, and he dips his finger in to taste it. He recoils visibly, finding the taste too bitter.

From somewhere behind him, Seokjin hears what sounds like laughter and he turns, surprised, and finds another student with a bright orange lanyard hung around his neck. He’s a total stranger, with hair pushed into a black beanie and a denim jacket covering a brown shirt, with some black jeans with the knees cut out. On his feet, worn out Converse. Seokjin does a double take.

“You know that’s spicy BBQ, right?”

Weirdly enough, Seokjin finds that he sounds exactly like what he thought he would. He stares at his glasses, first, and the way they slide down his nose, slightly oily because of the heat.

“Don’t you usually have teriyaki with Mandu?” he continues, wandering over to glance at the bottles of sauce, before pushing a slightly stained bottle towards Seokjin with a smile. “There. Honestly, scrape off the BBQ, this will taste so much better.”

Seokjin feels dumb. “I only usually have the tomato chilli. “

“Yeah, and BBQ?”

“No,” he replies, and then he laughs quietly, “no, never BBQ. Let’s call that...first day experimenting.”

The stranger nods along, shoving a mouthful of his own Mandu. Seokjin wants to point out that he has sauce on the corner of his mouth, but it feels rude. He barely knows him.

Glancing at the lanyard around his neck, Seokjin finishes his mouthful- “Are you staff?”

“What?” the stranger asks, caught off guard. Then, he looks down at the lanyard and smiles, politely, not in mockery, and shakes his head, disturbing feathery hairs that were once tucked up into the beanie. “Oh, no. No, I’m a first year.” He chortles at Seokjin’s stunned expression. “What, do I look really old?”

“No,” Seokjin replies. “I was just...surprised. I don’t know- today’s been weird for me. I’m all over the place.”

The stranger makes a noise of voiced agreement. “Mood.”

They stand in silence for a couple moments after that, eating, staring off at the little stream that ran around the perimeter of the small square, listening to the sound of the live band kicking off their setlist with a slow song appropriate for the weather.

The stranger swallows his Mandu, pointing at Seokjin with his spork without really realising, “oh, I’m Hoseok by the way.”

Hoseok. A name to the face.

“Seokjin,” he replies. Now he’s finished his Jjinmandu. “Digital Art.”

Hoseok makes a noise. “Woah, no way.” Gesturing to himself, “Art and Music.”

Seokjin wants to laugh. “That’s so weird. My roomie also does art. It’s like I’ve been thrown into a pool full of art students.”

“Yeah. Well, we are in the Arts Square. Wouldn’t it be weird if I was doing Chinese studies and I hung around in the Arts Square on my first day?”

“True,” Seokjin nods.

Talking to Hoseok is easy. It’s so fucking easy- it’s as if Hoseok has been a friend for years. They walk together, along the small path that barely fits them both, weaving around the stream. Seokjin learns that Hoseok is from Gwangju, and has a sister who designs clothing in the city. Hoseok, in return, learns that Seokjin barely escaped being a lawyer and comes from a family inheriting endless zeros. It doesn’t bother him. It usually bothers people.

“It’s cool that you got to do what you wanted to,” Hoseok says as they walk further along campus. Now, they’ve reach the on-campus convenience store, the artificial lighting making Hoseok squint, even though daylight still pushed on. “Most kids don’t when they’re in your kind of position.”

Hoseok quickly looks over, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, I only-”

“No,” Seokjin agrees, nodding and thrusting his hands into his pockets. He dips his head upwards, inhaling the smell of the sunshine, before looking at Hoseok with a friendly smile. “No, you’re right. Most kids don’t. I’m lucky.”

Hoseok’s grateful Seokjin didn’t misunderstand. “Hm, maybe we’ll be in each-other’s classes.”

He says it with a hopeful tone, lightly nudging Seokjin’s shoulder with a small smile, that caused dimples to spread across his lower cheeks.

“I hope so,” Seokjin replies, but the sound of the stream covers it. Hoseok keeps walking, not making it known if he heard. He probably hadn’t.

Namjoon rolls over the next morning, not quite remembering how he got home and when, and squints at the Sepia screen of his phone. It reads 6:45am, too fucking early to be awake on a Saturday.

did you get home ok yoongi

dont think i care about you or anything yoongi

Namjoon snorts quietly, wincing when he thinks he’s woken up Seokjin across the room. But, when he looks over towards Seokjin’s side of the dorm, he notices that he’s not even in bed. His sheets are tucked in tightly, and his jacket is absent on the coat hangers on the back of the door.

Holy shit, Seokjin gets up early.

yeah. hows minjoon, the name robber joonie

seriously fuck off he’s playing fred videos yoongi

it’s fucking 7am yoongi

Namjoon scoffs, mostly to himself- because who else is he going to scoff too?-, and rolls over flatly to press his feet onto the flattened out carpet of his room. The sun barely peeks through the shitty curtains, and he yawns loudly, feeling the euphoria of a morning stretch. Namjoon sighs with pleasure at the feeling of his body stretching out, letting his arms drop and grabbing his phone to reply to Yoongi, who Namjoon’s surprised is awake, even when Fred is involved.

i thought fred had died, fr joonie

bitch me too but here we have his channel, still screeching away about rubber sharks in his tiny swimming pool yoongi

im really not joking joon. i wanna quit so bad i’ve been here less than 24 hours and i’m already fantasising about drinking the bathroom bleach yoongi

He’s about to reply when the door to their dormitory room swings open, and the hostility of the swing almost makes him drop his phone on the floor. Namjoon scrambles to catch it, staring up with surprise at the sight of Seokjin carrying two mugs of what appears to be tea. Namjoon smells the cranberry as Seokjin comes closer with a sheepish, yet almost smug, smile. Bare in mind, Namjoon hates cranberry tea; at the smell he smiles and fakes joy.

“Saw your post-it saying you had to set an alarm for seven,” Seokjin said casually. “Figured you’d be up by the time I came back with this...hope you like cranberry.”

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eddiesasspbrak · 4 years

Text

Bikes

Eddie has never had a bike of his own and Richie wants to fix that.

Part of my “I’d rearrange the alphabet to put U and I together” series

Read on AO3

A C

1K+ words

It was the summer of their fifteenth year. Richie enjoyed nothing more than feeling the hands of his crush on his shoulders as he stood on the back of his bike while they rode through the streets with their friends. It wasn’t always his bike that he rode on though. They took turns having Eddie as a passenger. His mom didn’t allow him to have a bike of his own. It was too dangerous. He might fall off or crash it. What if he forgot to get off and walk it across the street like he was supposed to and was hit by a car? What if the chain broke and he couldn’t stop? What if he got a flat and lost control? Her reasons were endless, and Eddie had learned to stop asking.

As much as Richie loved riding with him, he wanted Eddie to be happy. He knew that there was nothing Eddie wanted more than to have a bike of his own. So, that’s what he would make happen. It wasn’t that hard to do. He gathered the rest of the Losers, minus Eddie, in the clubhouse and told them about his plan. The six of them would get odd jobs around town and save up to buy Eddie the used bike at the pawn shop before summer was over. Of course, they all agreed without much convincing. They all loved Eddie and wanted his happiness almost as much as Richie did.

They took turns so that Eddie wouldn’t get suspicious. One day a week, one of them would go around and look for anyone who was willing to pay for an extra pair of hands. Ben babysat his neighbor’s kids so they could have date night and they liked him so much, he was asked back the following weekend. Mike and Stan mowed countless lawns, Bill set up in the park and offered parents to draw their children for a fee. Beverly took $5 bets on how many lined-up bottles she could break in one shot. Richie took a temporary job unloading boxes at the market two days a week. It took all their savings plus what they’d made over a two-month period to buy the $450 bike.

During that time of working and scrounging together what they could, Richie and Bill taught Eddie how to ride on their bikes. He kind of already knew how to ride before then but was well out of practice as it had been so long. Richie told him that sometimes he should be the one to peddle and let one of them ride on the back.

“We’re tired of hauling your heavy ass around all the time. It’s your turn to chauffeur me.” He’d said, earning a punch in the shoulder.

It was enough to throw him off the trail completely. And so, the day came when they took their earnings and purchased the bike. Bev ran to the convenience store and bought a red bow to stick on the handlebars. Eddie was scheduled to meet them at Richie’s house and the six ran down the streets, bike in tow, giddy and overjoyed. They hid the bike underneath the front stairs and then sat and awaited his arrival. When he finally appeared, he looked upset. His shoulders were hunched, his hands shoved in his pockets and a frown plastered on his face.

“What’s going on, Eds?” Richie asked, pushing up off the steps.

“My mom is freaking out because I said I wanted to get my drivers permit this year. She’s going to make me fall years behind my friends and peers because she’s convinced I’ll crash.” He grumbled.

“W-we’ll drive you around when we can.” Bill said with a soft smile.

“It’s not like any of us are going to have our own cars anyway. We’ll still be riding around on bikes with you.” Bev chimed in, reaching out to grab his hand.

“That’s not the point. I want to hit milestones with you guys. I don’t want to get left behind. Again.” Despite his annoyance, he let Bev take his hand and squeeze it in her fingers.

Richie walked around to the side of the stairs, keeping his eyes on Eddie. “I think we’ve got something that might bring a smile back to that cherub face of yours my dear Spaghetti.”

Eddie looked at him with doubtful eyes as he reached beneath the stairs and grabbed hold of the handlebars. The bike rolled out from beneath the stairs and into the sunlight. Eddie’s eyes widened but confusion was the present expression on his face. He looked between the smiling faces of his friends and then back at the bike.

“It’s yours.” Ben spoke up.

“But…how?” Eddie asked. “Where did you get it?”

“The pawn shop. Sorry we couldn’t afford to get a new one.” Mike stood from the stairs and slapped a heavy hand down on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You guys…bought this for me?”

They could see the tears already forming the corners of his eyes. Mike pulled him against his chest and wrapped his arms around him as the tears began to fall. The other Losers rushed to join them, wrapping him up in the middle of a big group hug. Eddie searched his brain for something to say but was coming up blank as the love and astonishment took over. When they got to hot from the summer heat plus body heat, Eddie had managed to compose himself.

“You know my mom is going to take it the second she sees it, right?” He sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“We thought you could h-hide it at one of our places.” Bill said.

“We’ve figured it all out, Eddie. Don’t worry about it. Take it for test ride.” Stan said, gently shoving him toward the bike.

Eddie took the bike by the handles and steered it out to the street, his friends behind him with their bikes. Mounting the bike, Eddie felt a thrill go through him as a grin spread across his face. Pushing off, he began to ride down the street, all the rest of the Losers pulling up beside him. This wasn’t the first time Eddie had ridden a bike, but it was his first time riding a bike that was his. It was freedom and excitement and relief all balled into one.

They rode until they reached the quarry, their intended destination for the day. Eddie carefully pushed down the kickstand with his foot, making sure his new (used) bike wouldn’t fall over into the dirt. He cherished every gift his friends had given him over the years, but this one took the first-place spot. In a million years he didn’t think he’d be able to convey to them just how grateful he was for the gift. Having to hide it from his mother and one of their houses was a bummer but if it kept it safe from her, then so be it.

All seven stripped down and dove down into the water below, washing away the sweat that had gathered on their skin from the ride. Eddie was floating on his back, staring up at the clouds in the impossibly blue sky above him, when Stan waded over to him. He splashed some water in his face, causing Eddie to stand quickly, sputtering a bit as he wiped water from his eyes.

“Dammit Stanley.” He said with a smile, sending a small wave in Stan’s direction.

“It was Richie’s idea.” Stand put his arms up to block the water, ignoring Eddie’s retaliation.

“What was?”

“The bike. He saw it in the window of the pawn shop and put the plan together to raise money for it.”

“Why didn’t he tell me? I figured it was a joint idea.”

“Joint effort, Richie’s idea. He wanted you to be happy. Figure it out.”

With that, Stan swam away to rejoin the rest of the group. Eddie found Richie in the chaos that was his friends playing in the water. Beverly had his glasses in her hand, holding them out of his reach as he laughed and tried to get them back. For a while, he’d known how Richie felt about him. He felt the same way but was afraid to pursue it. Two boys in love wasn’t exactly an accepted thing in Derry. Now, as he watched him with the knew knowledge of the bike in his mind, he felt his heart swell.

It would be another year before either worked up the courage to confess to the other and begin their relationship. With many bumps along the way, a few breakups here and there, they eventually moved in together. This led to marriage, which led the adoption of their daughter. On the eve of her sixth birthday, both men sat in their living room wrapping last minute gifts. One of her gifts, sat in the corner of the room with a big bow on the handlebars, was a brand-new bike. Her first bike.

They’d lived in an apartment before and there wasn’t much room for a bike. Since deciding to start the process of adopting a second child, they decided to upgrade to a house in a suburb just outside of the city. Close enough for both Eddie and Richie to get to work easily and for their daughter to still play with friends from her old school. She’d been asking for a bike for her birthday, but both her fathers lead her to believe she wouldn’t receive one. They were excited to see her reaction to it.

When all the gifts were wrapped and piled up on the top of their coffee table, they sat back against the couch with a joined sigh. Eddie curled his legs up under him and leaned heavily against his husband’s shoulder. Both were tired and would eventually have to make the trek up to bed. For now, they were happy to have a moment of silence together. Eddie’s eyes landed on the bike in the corner, hidden in a way that she wouldn’t see it when coming down the stairs in the morning.

“Makes me think of my first bike.” He said, snuggling in closer under Richie’s arm.

“It would have been nice if we could have gotten you a new one instead of that rusty hunk of junk.”

“I loved it. It was perfect.” Eddie turned to rest his chin against Richie’s chest, looking up at him. “I know it was your idea to get me that bike. Stan told me.”

Richie looked down and brough is hand up to gently cup his cheek. “How come you never said anything?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. That was the moment, you know. When I realized I was in love with you.”

“I should buy you things more often.” Richie grinned.

“Shut up. It wasn’t the bike. It was the sentiment behind it. That fact that you wanted to do something for me and that you thought of me when you saw it in the window. Made me feel special.”

Richie kissed him then. They’d shared hundreds of thousand kisses over the years, but each one still gave both men butterflies. In the morning, when their daughter woke and found her presents, she would see the bike and squeal happily. They’d spend the rest of the afternoon teaching her to ride. When she falls and scrapes her knee, Eddie is ready with the antibacterial and the bandages. Later, when she suggests family rides, Eddie and Richie buy themselves bikes. Nicer bikes than the ones they had as kids and just as special, because they bought them together.

#Reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it (2017)#it (2019)#Ro writes

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timothee-soft-boy · 5 years

Text

A little something...

for @maraskolnikova on her birthday. 🎁 Because she is probably the only person who will like this! 😂 Enjoy your day, lady!

_______________

My eyes burn as I open them on this cold winter morning. Head pounding, I massage my temples hoping it will ease some of the pain, but no such luck. I forgot to draw the blinds last night and the daylight is pouring in, made extra intense by the fallen snow. Cursing myself for the mistake, I turn away and shade my eyes for a few moments before throwing off the covers. I slowly sit up, but that doesn’t keep me from getting lightheaded with the change in position. Sitting for a few moments, I get my bearings and make my way to the kitchen. Downing as much water as I can and a couple ibuprofen, I decide caffeine is required and my pantry is bare as usual.

Back in the bedroom, I pull on gray sweatpants, a hoodie and thick wool socks. Donning a parka, scarf, beanie and boots I make my way out into the snow and the cold slaps me in the face. After a moment more it actually feels good. I was sweating when I woke up and the cold is a relief of sorts. The brisk walk is helping me feel human again.

I open the door at Frisson Espresso and a wave of warmth hits me as well as the strong, bitter aroma of the brew. Machines are whirring and steam whistling behind the counter. There’s a few people in line and I fall in behind a tall middle aged man in a long wool coat. I admire his shoes. They seem younger than what I would expect for a man that age and sort of weather inappropriate, but I shrug it off. Letting my phone entertain me during the wait, I scroll through insta, seeing what all my friends were up to last night. Smiling at their silliness. Sometimes I envy how they can just take random pictures and it’s no big thing. I have to keep my private life extra private and it is a bummer. But, I trust Brian and know it’s for the best.

The man before me speaks and his voice sounds familiar. I listen intently trying to see if I can place it, but I become more and more perplexed as the seconds tick by. He turns and I see his face. I halt in my tracks and recognize the man as James Murphy. What a small world it is. This man is a New York institution and here he is on this morning at my favorite coffee shop. I’m frozen and continue to stare. The employee says next a few times before I snap out of it and order myself a giant latte and croissant.

I turn to wait by the counter and take down my hood. Snatching the beanie off my head, my hair goes wild, but I don’t care. Saddling up to James, I decide if I should say something. I know how much I like attention from fans, but I’m not sure how he would feel. Before I find the resolve, he turns to me and asks, “Timothée?” He knows my name. Holy fuck, James Murphy knows who I am. I remove the glove from my hand and reach out to shake his. “Yeah, that’s me. James. Wow. It’s so nice to meet you, man. I love your music. How’re you doing?”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot! I’m great! Just getting my morning fix.”

“Yeah, same here. I love this place. Perfect antidote for a hangover,” I say jovially, laughing and shaking my head. James smiles at me and I smile back. “Dude, I’m just floored you know who I am.”

“I remember those days. Getting recognized was a shock to me too, when I was starting out.”

“No, I mean I’m floored that you specifically know who I am. You and your music are like a New York institution. I wouldn’t think someone like you would know of someone like me.” Bashfully, I shift my gaze to my boots.

“You must be kidding. Of course I know you. I loved you in Call Me By Your Name. That performance was transcendent.”

I look back up to see him still smiling at me. “Oh, wow! Thank you, thank you... coming from you... just, thank you.” My throat tightens and my eyes well up a bit. I’m so tired the emotions are right under the surface.

He places a hand on my shoulder, to steady me. I take a deep breath and draw the tears back.

“Listen to me, man. You’re going to be a New York institution someday soon. You soaked up all the good and bad things about this place, turned it into something beautiful and removed the hardened exterior that so many who live here carry around all their lives. All the good is showing. All the light is coming through. You have a true gift.”

They call his name and he picks up his drink from bar. I open my mouth over and over trying to find something to say.

He stops in front of me. “It’s okay. I’ve been there too. Just soak it up. You deserve the praise. Keep doing your thing. Nice to meet you man.” He leans in for a hug and claps me on the back with his free hand. “Later,” he says as he walks away.

Still in shock, I hear my name called and pick up my drink and breakfast. Leaving the store, I notice it’s snowing again. I breathe deeply, letting that amazing compliment soak in, and feel really proud. Putting on my headphones I pick Yr City’s A Sucker and strut all the way home. I really, really love this city.

Link to song:

https://youtu.be/DCnHKHZp2IA

#timothée chalamet #james murphy #lcd soundsystem #fanfic

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years

Text

HALLOWEEN RADIO | 10.31.20

Secret Radio | Halloween special 10.31.20 | Hear it here.

Artwork by Paige, Liner notes by Evan except * means Paige

1. Sam the Sham - “Little Red Riding Hood” *

I had to make the case to Evan that this was a Halloween song, but I justify with the fact that 1.) this song uses the phrase “spooky ol’ woods” and 2.) many years ago, Sleepy Kitty played a festival on Cherokee Street that wasn’t a Halloween show but it happened to be the Saturday before Halloween. Recognizing our responsibility, we scrambled to throw together costumes and realized that if we just got a wolf mask and paws we already had everything in our wardrobes to throw together the Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs LP cover drawing of Red and the wolf. Evan says he doesn’t like Halloween but it’s only because once he commits, he commits completely. One of my favorite moments of the night was spotting Evan that night, several hours after our set in the afternoon, having a completely serious and sincere conversation with a friend – wolf nose and paws still intact. This was pre iPhone days, but I tracked down an image and I’m gonna put it on our fake radio insta. Thus, Little Red Riding Hood is in fact a Halloween song.

2. Roky Erickson - “I Walked with a Zombie”

Every year, reliably, Paige’s dad Ned tells us we should cover “I Walked with a Zombie,” and each year we somehow don’t do it. So this live version of the song is for him, just in case this is the closest we ever get.

Halloween tag

3. Steve Martin - Little Shop of Horrors soundtrack - “Dentist!”

Sure, an alarmingly large and hungry, sharp-toothed plant is scary. But is it as terrifying as a dentist who delights in the pain he inflicts? “I thrill when I drill a bicuspid” — shiver!

4. Hocus Pocus soundtrack - “Sarah’s Theme”

Our definition of a good Halloween movie is way less horrifying than it is lightly spooky, so “Hocus Pocus” is just about ideal for our purposes. This is the sound of Paige’s delighted Halloween youth… though we also just watched it again. Holds up!

5. The Beatles - “Mr. Moonlight”

Paige pointed out that this is essentially a religious song to the moon — a song of praise, devotion, and submission to a greater power.

6. Quasi - “Ghost vs. Vampire”

I know that Quasi has had a long and illustrious career, but my fandom is frozen at this pinnacle of mystical bummerness. I learned so much about being creatively sad from Sam Coomes.

7. Rocky Horror Picture Show - “Sweet Transvestite”

8. The Velvet Underground - “The Gift”

Didn’t realize this was a Halloween song until tonight. If Hitchcock is proper Halloween, which I vote a definite yes, then “The Gift” is ultra Halloween.

9. Bauhaus - “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”

I feel like I have to say psychic hello to my friend Joseph Grady, who first introduced me not just to the coolness of Peter Murphy but to the allure of vampires generally. I wore my nails and my coats long. We talked about what the vampires were up to that night. We had some truly perfect nights together.

10. The Bitter Tears - “Murdered at the Bar”

An invaluable prize from being in a certain scene in a certain set of years in Chicago with the School of the Art Institute crowd — grad and undergrad. We all loved this song, and 15 or so years later, “we all” turns out to be a very specific and much-loved crew of people I miss and love. Except for Chris Shea, who I love and get to hang out with here in the city. This song is for him especially.

11. Phantom of the Opera - Korean cast - “Point of No Return”

We had this epiphany accidentally. As I recall, we watched the movie version of “Phantom,” and I was distinctly not impressed, but then Paige put on the French-Canadian version and we were both fascinated by how different it was. That led us into Phantom Internationalé, wherein we just looked up versions from all over the world. It is amazing: each version is both militantly like and distinctly unique from the others. The Korean Phantom emerges as the most singular from among the versions we heard, and “Point of No Return” an emotional height.

Meet Me in St. Louis - “Tootie the Horrible”

One of the greatest Halloween scenes in the history of cinema in our book.

12. Donovan - “Season of the Witch”

13. “The Dweller of the Cave” * I Found this tape at my parents’ house this summer while we were delayed in Illinois between March and whenever the van got fixed and we drove back. Rediscovering this tape may be why you’re listening to this whole fake radio spooktacular tonight. Hi to Stewart and Jill.

14. Science Fiction Double Feature *

15. Dr. Who Theme Song*

16. Red Dwarf Theme Song*

The previous 3 songs were woven into a medley for Sleepy Kitty’s KMNR Freaker’s Ball. It’s one of life’s great pleasures for a band to play Freaker’s Ball, we literally wound around a wooded road to find some Elk’s Lodge or something full of college kids DECKED THE HECK OUT in EPIC COSTUMES ready to freakin’ get down. Never have I been closer to being the band in the prom scene of a 90s movie than at a Freaker’s Ball. We met some rad folks through the KMNR scene, and if I’ve ever told you about my custom vocal pedals, Colin of CroyTone Audio was one of those rad folks we met one of those magical nights. Also, raise your hand if your love Red Dwarf!

17. Ghostbusters

Paige: “I had this reflector, this flat reflector that was some scrap of something that Ned got from Honeywell. I would play Ghostbusters, and I was like: ‘This is a ghost trap.’ It was SO REAL to me. It was this flat reflector, like a bike reflector, and I would like, like, set traps. And I’d be like, ‘Don’t move my ghost trap!’ I would set the ghost trap, and it was like fishing for ghosts. But that was me playing. I would, like, wait. …I don’t know if it worked or not.”

“I’m not sure if this is me imagining this or not, but I’m pretty sure there was a day where I was like, ‘I feel like this trap’s not working.’ But I also feel like I was like, ‘But how would I know? They could be all inside. This is either full — or empty.’”

Vertigo soundtrack

18. The Fall - “Frightened”

“I don’t wanna dance, I wanna go home” — Fri-dund!

19. Goblin - “Zombi” Title Theme

20. Karen Elson - “The Ghost Who Walks”

I think we got this record at Third Man Records when we were playing in Nashville. Sean’s new residence!

Paige: “Karen Elson is tall, beautiful, an interesting musician, AND she has red hair. That’s crazy. What are the chances that you would have all of those things? Talk about a blue moon!”

21. Eartha Kitt - “I Want to Be Evil”

“The only etchings I’ve seen have been behind glass.”

22. Jeffrey Lewis & Los Bolts - “The Pigeon”

“Old skies you flapped through are no more.”

We would like to give a heartfelt hello to Yona Schimmel, mostly out of reach for now. We mourn every missed knish.

23. Scott Walker - “The Seventh Seal”

Paige didn’t know this was a movie, she thought this was just a cool song about a guy playing chess with death.

24. Groovie Ghoulies - “(She’s My) Vampire Girl”

I love that he puts two Bazooka Joe jokes right in the middle of the song.

25. Black Sabbath - “Paranoid”

Sometimes you need priests to summon spirits.

26. Fantasia - “A Night on Bald Mountain”

This is a song that seriously disturbed Paige when she was young. She thought that they did this whole demon thing every single Saturday. For me, it made such an impression that, when each of my young friends and I improvised who we were — “I’m Darth Vader!” “I’m a Cylon Raider!” my take was “I’m Night on Bald Mountain”! And I would open my arms wide and pretend that I was an entire sharp mountaintop transforming into a giant demon with wings, and I would always be the biggest and baddest and scariest creature of all, no matter what they thought. Bald Mountain beats Batman every time.

29. “Jump in the Fire”

Or as I say whenever the occasion warrants: “Jump in the show-AHH!”

28. Rogers & Hammerstein “Pore Jud Is Daid”

29. Barry Adamson - “Something Wicked This Way Comes”

I cannot recall what brought this album to my ears… I suspect it was something I got in my inbox when I worked at The Rocket. This whole album is full of heavy musical grooves and heavy mental movement. It’s a rare pleasure in

30. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, “I Put a Spell on You”

This is straight-up one of my favorite recordings of anyone ever. And when I eventually saw it enacted in “Stranger than Paradise,” I was blown away by how fundamentally Eastern European it sounds. Every sound he makes with his voice creates new characters.

31. The Shining, “Midnight, the Stars & You”

Happy halloween my friends, I wish we were all at an otherwordly dance together.

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stormyvixen · 6 years

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Blog Tour with Excerpt, Q&A, Early Review & Bonus Review! Summoned to Thirteenth Grave (Charley Davidson #13) Darynda Jones!

Grim Reaper Charley Davidson is back in the final installment of Darynda Jones’ New York Times bestselling paranormal series!

Charley Davidson, Grim Reaper extraordinaire, is pissed. She’s been kicked off the earthly plane for eternity—which is exactly the amount of time it takes to make a person stark, raving mad. But someone’s looking out for her, and she’s allowed to return after a mere hundred years in exile. Is it too much to hope for that not much has changed? Apparently it is. Bummer.

She’s missed her daughter. She’s missed Reyes. She’s missed Cookie and Garrett and Uncle Bob. Now that she’s back on earth, it’s time to put to rest burning questions that need answers. What happened to her mother? How did she really die? Who killed her? And are cupcakes or coffee the best medicine for a broken heart? It all comes to a head in an epic showdown between good and evil in this final smart and hilarious novel.

OMG! What an explosive and stunning conclusion to the Charley Davidson world! While readers may be disappointed that the series is ending, there is no way for readers to be disappointed in this climatic ending that is such an unexpected outcome! Readers also can’t help but agree that ending the series with the thirteenth book is quite appropriate as the number thirteen has such notoriety to it. The strong, bold characters of this series have continuously wowed readers with fun, sass, and thrills throughout this excellent series and they fulfill their reputation in the final book as they all come together to save the world.

The relationship between Reyes and Charley has always been unique and passionate and the conclusion of this book keeps that tradition going which invokes numerous emotions from readers but they have to admit that it is quite fitting. As always, the story is full of adrenaline pumping suspense, excitement and sass that readers have come to love although this book may actually surpass the overall explosive and thrilling feel of the previous stories. Maybe that’s because the series is ending or maybe it’s because of the whole world ending danger that flows throughout this fast paced story. While readers may be sorry to see Charley go, they can’t wait to find out what the author has in store for readers next.

Author’s Book Page https://www.daryndajones.com/summoned-to-thirteenth-grave/

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35391370-summoned-to-thirteenth-grave

BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/summoned-to-the-thirteenth-grave-by-darynda-jones

Summoned to the Thirteenth Grave is the 13th and final book in the Charley Davidson series

Charlotte “Charley” Davidson, a part-time private investigator helping the police with her ability to contact the dead in her full-time role as the Grim Reaper, in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in a paranormal romantic suspense series

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/series/52637-charley-davidson

Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B071WQ7NPK?ref=series_rw_dp_labf

1 First Grave on the Right 1.5 For I Have Sinned 2 Second Grave on the Left 3 Third Grave Dead Ahead 4 Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet 5 Fifth Grave Past the Light 5.5 Shimmer 5.6 Glow 6 Sixth Grave on the Edge 7 Seventh Grave and No Body 8 Eigth Grave After Dark 8.5 Brighter Than the Sun 9 The Dirt on Ninth Grave 10 The Curse of Tenth Grave 10.5 A Very Charley Christmas 11 Eleventh Grave in Moonlight 12 The Trouble with Twelfth Grave 13 Summoned to Thirteenth Grave

Preorder -

Amazon - https://amzn.to/2IBXGuk

Kindle - https://amzn.to/2x2hlCj

Audible - https://www.audible.com/pd/Mysteries-Thrillers/Summoned-to-Thirteenth-Grave-Audiobook/B07D84S17N?ref=a_search_c3_lProduct_1_1&pf_rd_p=e81b7c27-6880-467a-b5a7-13cef5d729fe&pf_rd_r=QXS3H5Q7BK026V885AXK&

B&N - http://bit.ly/2x1jeiq

Nook - http://bit.ly/2IFENGX

GPlay - http://bit.ly/2x1k3rw

iBooks - https://apple.co/2x2i6v9

IndieBound - http://bit.ly/2x4Y82I

Kobo - http://bit.ly/2IC0qrC

Powells - http://www.powells.com/book/-9781250149411

SMP - https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250149411

EXCERPT

1 What, pray tell, the fuck? - T-shirt

It wasn’t until I felt the sun on my face that I really knew I’d made it back. The bright orb drifted over the horizon like a hot air balloon, blinding me, yet I couldn’t stop looking at it. Or, well, trying to look at it. After giving it my all through squinted lids, I gave up and closed them. Let the warmth wash over me. Let it sink into my skin. Flood every molecule in my body.

God knew I needed it. I hadn’t had a drop of vitamin D in over a hundred years. My bones were probably brittle and shriveled and splintery. Much like the current state of my psyche.

But that’s what happens when you defy a god.

Not just any god, mind you. No siree Bob. To get booted off the big blue marble, one had to defy the GOD. The very One a particular set of children’s books called Jehovahn. The man had some serious control issues. I bring one person back from the dead and bam. Banished for all eternity. Exiled to a hell with no light, no hair products, and no coffee.

Mostly no coffee.

Q&A with Darynda Jones

How did you come up with Charley?

So, I’m lying in bed one morning, waiting for my turn in the shower, when Charley popped into my head in all her glory. I loved her from the get-go. I will add that I was looking for her. I had just typed The End on my second complete manuscript, a YA titled Death and the Girl Next Door which later sold to my amazing editor along with the Charley books. So, I was craving another project. I knew I wanted it to be adult and paranormal. That was all I had. And then Charley walked in.

What has it been like to planning and writing this series, and how does it feel to be wrapping it up?

I had no clue! I dreamed, of course. We all do that. But for that dream to become a reality…it’s quite surreal. I have the best job in the world. Planning and writing the last two books have been bittersweet. I love writing these books so much, so the fact that it’s coming to an end is a little heartbreaking, but I want to go out with a bang. Like a HUGE one. I hope everyone loves reading them as much as I’ve loved writing them.

Are there any side characters or plots you wish you would have developed more?

Actually, yes. In Fifth Grave Past the Light, I brought in a character named Nicolette Lemay, gave her an insanely cool gift, then never brought her back in again. We see her briefly in Twelfth Grave, but I wish I’d done more with her.

Can you give us a sneak peek into how it all ends? What do you hope readers feel as they reach the last page?

I am very hopeful that readers will feel a sense of happiness, closure and (dare I dream?) euphoria. All I can say is that this book is truly darkest before the dawn. Charley and Reyes have accidentally opened a hell dimension within our own, and they have to figure out how to close it before it takes over the world. But it’s expanding exponentially, and soon there will be nothing left of the world as we know it. But with a little help from Charley's departed mother, one clue leads Charley in the right direction and, hopefully, to the secret to stopping the hell dimension and save all of humanity. Sadly, she only has three days to do it.

What's the next project you're working on?

Right now I am working on a brand new series, a trilogy set in a small town in New Mexico with a sheriff named Sunshine, a missing girl named Olivia, and a murder suspect named Levi. Too bad she is in way over her head, especially since the missing girl is her daughter's best friend and Sunshine has been in love with Levi since she could breathe.

BONUS REVIEW Second Grave on the Left!

If you hang around with dead people, life can get pretty complicated. Take it from Charley Davidson, part-time private investigator and full-time Grim Reaper. Complicated is her middle name. The deceased find her very sparkly. Demons find her irresistible. And one entity in particular wants to seduce her in every way possible.

When Charley and Cookie (her best friend/receptionist) have to track down a missing woman, the case is not quite as open and shut as they anticipate. Cookie's friend Mimi disappeared five days earlier. Mimi then sends Cookie a cryptic message telling Cookie to meet her at an nearby coffee shop. The coffee is brewing, but Mimi's still missing. There is, however, a clue Mimi left on the bathroom wall: a woman's name. Mimi's husband explains to them that his wife had been acting strange since she found out an old high school friend had been murdered. The same woman whose name Mimi had scribbled on the bathroom wall.

Meanwhile, Reyes Alexander Farrow (otherwise known as the Son of Satan. Yes. Literally) has left his corporeal body and is haunting Charley. He's left his body because he's being tortured by demons who want to lure Charley closer. But Reyes can't let that happen. Because if the demons get to Charley, they'll have a portal to heaven...well, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty.

Can Charley handle hot nights with Reyes and even hotter days tracking down a missing woman? Can she keep those she loves out of harm's way? And is there enough coffee and chocolate in the world to fuel her as she does?

Here is your signpost for the most hilarious read of the year: Second Grave on the Left.

Sensational and suspenseful, the second book in the Charley Davidson series has readers holding their breath in anticipation of what happens next. Charley as well as all the characters in the series are strong, vivid characters that easily draw readers into their world, but Charley and Reyes still the show. Charley is smart, fun and fully of sass as she kicks butt while solving crimes and Reyes is oh so dominate, a true bad a** that has readers melting on the spot. The fun and snarky dialogue adds a lighthearted atmosphere to the story but at the same time, readers can feel the importance of every scene. Charley and Reyes has lots of electrical chemistry that produces plenty of sparks but this relationship is in no way typical and has some major obstacles.

This fast paced and smooth flowing plot is full of non-stop excitement and thrills including surprising twists and turns that keeps readers guessing. Not is Charley for a missing woman which turns out to be more complicated and dangerous than she originally thought, but she’s also searching for Reyes’ body and he’s being quite stubborn, then there are things going with her family and secrets being revealed. There always something going on in Charley’s world and readers can’t help but become completely engrossed in this novel.

Author's Book Page https://www.daryndajones.com/second-grave-on-the-left/

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9565045-second-grave-on-the-left

BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/second-grave-on-the-left-by-darynda-jones-2018-10-11

AVAILABLE in print or ebook

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Second-Grave-Left-Charley-Davidson/dp/0312360819/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1311272123&sr=8-1

Kindle - http://www.amazon.com/Second-Grave-Left-ebook/dp/B004TLHNOC/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1342532033&sr=8-2&keywords=the+second+grave+on+the+left

Audible - http://www.amazon.com/Second-Grave-Left-Charley-Davidson/dp/B005HG7AG4/

B&N - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/second-grave-on-the-left-darynda-jones/1028783962?ean=9780312360818&format=hardcover

Nook - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/second-grave-on-the-left-darynda-jones/1028783962?ean=9781429987660&format=nook-book

BaM - http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Second-Grave-Left/Darynda-Jones/9780312360818?id=5112633791145

GPlay - https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Darynda_Jones_Second_Grave_on_the_Left?id=Or-fNjlOQ8oC

iBooks - https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/second-grave-on-the-left/id425331825?mt=11&uo=4

IndieBound - http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780312360818

Kobo - https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/second-grave-on-the-left-1

Powells - http://www.powells.com/biblio/62-9780312360818-0

SMP - http://us.macmillan.com/secondgraveontheleft

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author DARYNDA JONES won a Golden Heart and a RITA for her manuscript First Grave on the Right. A born storyteller, she grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, annoying man and beast alike. Darynda lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys.

BUY LINK: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250149411

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Darynda

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/darynda.jones.official

Website: http://www.daryndajones.com/

Pintrest - https://www.pinterest.com/darynda

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4175419.Darynda_Jones

BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/authors/darynda-jones

St. Martin’s Press:

SMP Romance Twitter: https://twitter.com/heroesnhearts & https://twitter.com/SMPRomance

SMP Romance Website: https://heroesandheartbreakers.com/

THANK YOU FOR VISITING & A MAGICAL DAY!

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