#it's hard to come up with fake technical text | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wavelikewhat · 11 months

Text

Heartstrings

Pairing: Producer!Woozi x Producer!Reader (she/her pronouns) Summary: You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer. Wordcount: 4.5k Content notes: none Genre/themes/appearances: fluff, strangers to lovers, idol/non-idol, music talk, Hoshi meddling, Seungcheol interrogating, Jeonghan snooping

A/N: So this is technically a fanfic for two fanfics: when I read i look good on you by @seungkwansphd I needed a backstory for them immediately. Then last week I read Live by @wondernus and it felt like it fit into my headcanon, so my mind started filling out how they met and got back together and began a public relationship… So here I am posting my first Woozi fic that is a fake prequel to those two, in a way? Please read those because they are so short and so sweet and will have your imagination (and heart) racing! This story is about how this couple gets together :)

“Ya! Soonyoung!” Jihoon called out.

Soonyoung abruptly stopped dancing and turned around, surprised to see Jihoon in his practice room. “What are you doing here?”

Jihoon got straight to the point, as always. “Do you have the number of the producer who wrote the song you did with Youngji?” he asked as he walked toward Soonyoung at the mirrored wall.

Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “Y/N? Why do you need her number at…” He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the mirrors and added, “11:45 at night?”

Jihoon sighed, exasperated that this ‘quick question’ was turning into a full blown conversation. “I have to finish that song featuring a woman’s vocals. The company wants to hear it tomorrow, but I need someone who can sing on the demo. They’ll have a hard time picturing a woman singing it if I sing it.”

Soonyoung nodded slowly. “That makes sense. Y/N sang the guide for that song. Yes, I have her number.” He walked over to his bag and fished out his phone. “Sent.”

Jihoon’s phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down to see a notification from Soonyoung. “Thanks.” He turned and headed out of the room.

Soonyoung watched the door close, shrugged, and walked back to the mirrors to practice.

...

[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:49 - This is Jihoon, Soonyoung gave me your number. Would you be able to sing on a demo for me tonight? I’m working on a song with a woman’s vocals and the company wants to hear it tomorrow.

[Y/N] 23:50 - Did you give someone my number?

[Hoshi] 23:50 - Woozi asked me for it. Did he text you?

[Y/N] 23:50 - He did, but I had to make sure it was real

[Hoshi] 23:50 - LOL!

[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:51 - Hi! I’m just finishing up at my studio. I can definitely help.

[Jihoon - Universe Factory] 23:51- Any chance you could come to my studio tonight then?

[Y/N - Bespoke Records] 23:52 - Sure, send me the location.

...

You stared at your phone in shock. There is no way THE Woozi (and he called himself JIHOON?! like you were actual people who knew each other?) just asked you for help at midnight on a Tuesday. You honestly almost said yes even before your brain had a brief moment of sanity and directed you to check with Hoshi.

When Woozi asked you to come to his studio you completely froze, re-entering reality only long enough to let him know you could be there. You’d seen clips of him working at the studio and it seemed like such a cool place. You couldn't believe you were really about to go inside.

Woozi (Jihoon, you reminded yourself) even sent a company car to pick you up, which was very thoughtful of him. Then again, you were doing him a huge favor by agreeing to meet him at midnight on a Tuesday. He was lucky you were a night owl. The least he could do was give you a free ride.

All throughout the ride to his studio from yours, you felt like you should be manically texting someone about it, but you were somewhat frozen in shock. You sent a message to your roommate letting them know that you were staying out late to work with another producer, and you gave them the address for “Jihoon’s studio” and made sure location sharing was still turned on for your phone. (Safety first.) You did this frequently enough that they easily replied they'd keep their ringer on and check on you in the morning to make sure you made it back.

You stared out the window as buildings and brightly lit late-night restaurants flashed by. Suddenly, you realized, I am literally living my dream at this exact moment. You lived in Seoul working as a music producer, you had an amazing roommate you loved, you had fun meeting and collaborating with other producers in the business, and you worked on several very successful songs. And now you were about to meet one of the most successful producers in the world. Unreal.

The car arrived at what looked like an average gray building after a 15 minute ride from your studio. The subway entrance across the street told you the building was only one stop away from your apartment on the subway line you rode to work.

A security guard at the entrance let you in and pointed out the correct elevator. As the elevator doors closed, you heard him on the phone with Jihoon, letting him know you arrived. When the doors opened, you didn’t even have to wander around looking for the right room. Jihoon stood outside one of the doorways and nodded quickly before heading back into a room halfway down the hall.

You took a deep breath and started toward the studio. You had butterflies in your stomach. You didn't follow the group closely, yet among the members you’d always felt particularly drawn to Jihoon, not just for his looks (because he was so handsome you could barely believe it) but for his mind. This was an amazing once in a lifetime opportunity to work with such a talented producer.

When you walked into the studio, it was exactly as it looked in the clips you saw online. He was sitting at a computer and beside him was an empty chair. On the desk were big headphones and a microphone that were both plugged into his system. You’d only seen this microphone model online, and your excitement grew at the chance of getting to use it.

“Thanks for coming over,” Jihoon said as you walked to his desk. “I had a busy schedule today so I didn’t find out until an hour ago that they wanted it so fast.”

“Happy to help. I’m glad you thought of me.” At that moment, he looked up and met your eyes. His gaze was intense and his eyes seemed to stare into you. Maybe this was his work mode.

Shake it off, you told yourself, dropping your bag under the desk and sitting down. Be professional.

Jihoon played the ballad for you a few times and explained the concept. He sent you the lyrics so you could scroll through on your phone and follow along. You sang along under your breath, shoulders bobbing to the beat. The song was sure to be a hit, but he was correct that it was hard to imagine a woman featuring on the song with his (absolutely incredible) vocals on the demo.

“Are you ready to record?” Jihoon asked.

You nodded. You were never nervous the first time you sang something. It was like making pancakes: the first one didn’t count. That was your personal rule. You carefully put on the headphones and settled the microphone in front of you where you liked it.

You sang the lyrics exactly as written with the same vocalization he used in his version. A few times, your tongue twisted over the words. Your gut told you it wasn’t your singing style that was the issue. It felt like the sounds of those particular words didn’t fit those specific bars. As Jihoon played it back for you, you settled in to listen but you still felt some of the lyrics weren’t aligned with the song’s concept or sound.

Jihoon tilted his head and looked at you. It looked like he was calculating something. “What are you thinking?” he asked, turning his chair to face you fully.

You hesitated for a moment, but this was work. Jihoon was looking for your professional opinion as a songwriter. He obviously heard the demos you’d sent Hoshi back when you wrote a song for him and Youngji, and Jihoon liked your voice enough to ask for it on his demo. So this was definitely about work.

“I think a few of the lyrics need to be changed.” You scrolled to the first spot on your phone and pointed. “Right here, these three syllables are clashing against the musical phrasing underneath. You should do two syllables with an elongated vowel.”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. What about ‘only’ or ‘maybe’ in that spot?” He looked at the lyrics on your phone and sang that section a few times to test out both options. You nodded along, feeling the rhythm of the lyrics.

“Maybe. It fits the concept of the song better.”

“I agree. What else?”

As you pointed out a few other suggestions, you found yourself much more comfortable working with him than you expected. Sometimes when you met some of the bigger producers for the first time, you felt too starstruck to make any changes to their work. But something about working alone in the quiet studio with Jihoon made your typical unease disappear. His presence filled the room, but his questions were clear and direct and you always knew exactly what he was asking.

Ten minutes later, Jihoon started a second recording, this time with the new lyrics. Despite the late hour, your voice felt strong and your mouth formed every word exactly as you intended. When you finished singing and took off the headphones, Jihoon’s eyes sparkled at you before he spoke. You felt it, too. This was it. You wouldn’t need to lay another track.

“Ready to hear it?” he asked, looking back at the computer and not addressing the fact that you both knew it was going to be perfect. You could hear the note of anticipation in his voice.

“Yes.”

A broad smile stretched across your face as you listened to the entire song. Afterwards, Jihoon turned to you with his phone in hand.

“Send me your agency’s contact information and the email address for the legal department. I need the KOMCA registration details so I can list your name in the credits.”

And just like that, you officially collaborated on a song with Universe Factory.

...

“Did you end up recording with Y/N?” Soonyoung asked Jihoon as they walked back to the practice room holding fresh iced Americanos.

“She came over that night and recorded the demo,” Jihoon replied, heading up a staircase.

Soonyoung’s eyes bugged out of his head and he stumbled on a step. He grabbed the railing to catch himself. “That night? It was the middle of the night!”

Jihoon shrugged. “She said she could.”

“What did you do together?” Soonyoung asked suspiciously.

“What do you mean? We recorded the song.”

“That’s it?”

“What else would we do? She helped with the lyrics and I set it up to give her writing credits.”

“Really?”

“Of course I did. She made the song better.”

Soonyoung watched Jihoon out of the corner of his eye. That was one of the nicest things Jihoon had ever said about anyone. Soonyoung took another sip of his coffee, his mind racing as he calculated a hundred algorithms at once. This whole situation was pretty unusual. But maybe, just maybe, his suspicion about Jihoon was correct.

“When are you seeing her again?” Soonyoung asked casually after they reached the top of the steps.

Jihoon cocked his head, thinking. “Maybe I’ll invite her to the recording. She would probably like that.”

Again, Soonyoung stumbled over his own two feet out of shock that Jihoon was considering someone’s feelings, and it wasn’t someone he’d known for a decade. And he didn’t always consider the feelings of members he knew for that long.

“Aren’t you going to buy dinner to thank her?” Soonyoung suggested.

“Is that necessary?”

“It would be the professional thing to do. Wouldn’t you do that if you worked with a guy? And Y/N really helped you meet your deadline.”

Jihoon thought carefully about the suggestion as they approached the door to the practice room. “You’re right. I should treat her to dinner. I’ll send her a message when we’re done.”

“I’ll remind you!” Soonyoung exclaimed enthusiastically.

...

Late at night a few days later, you walked up the hill to your apartment, completely lost in thought. You just finished dinner with Jihoon, and sharing the meal felt as comfortable as when you were recording in his studio last week.

After recording the demo together, he coordinated with your agency to make sure your credits appeared properly on the new song. You also had to sign an NDA about the song, studio location, and spending time with Jihoon. I guess it goes with the territory, you thought to yourself as you signed it.

During dinner, Jihoon explained the rushed deadline for the demo was because the song would be an OST for a drama starring one of the hottest actors in the country and the drama producers wanted to hear the song. Of course, they loved it and approved it.

It was hard to believe you worked with Jihoon on a song that Dokyeom was about to sing for a highly anticipated drama. It was even wilder that *Woozi* was saved in your phone simply as Jihoon, as if he was just another producer you worked with. And you were so surprised when he offered to buy you a meal to thank you. You should be the one thanking him!

But the simple meal was delicious and the quiet dinner in the small family-run restaurant near his studio (and near your apartment, but he didn't need to know that) was really nice. The owners seemed to know him well and treated him as a son. You knew you would remember the evening fondly.

Conversation mostly focused on work, but when Jihoon learned where you went to college for music production, it turned out you had learned from his mentors. He shared some genuinely entertaining stories from when he was starting to learn production software and recording tools.

It all made him more… real, and less of a person you just saw in videos on your phone. You sort of couldn't stop thinking about him, and as you walked up the steps leading to your apartment building, you found yourself mentally scrolling through all your draft songs to see if he might want to work on one with you.

...

[Jihoon] 21:09 - Would you be interested in coming to Dokyeom’s recording on Tuesday?

[Y/N] 21:15 - I would love that!

...

Through the glass of the recording booth, Jihoon watched you chatting with Dokyeom like you were old friends. He felt his stomach twist but couldn't figure out why.

Dokyeom had convinced you to record one track where you sang with him, even though they had a famous singer scheduled to record that verse tomorrow. So there you were, giggling with Dokyeom in the booth.

"Ready?" Jihoon asked over the booth speakers. He watched you and Dokyeom giggle yet again over the grumpy tone of his request before settling in around the mic.

Jihoon began the recording and heard your voice pipe through his headphones. Dokyeom added unplanned adlibs underneath, which Jihoon grudgingly acknowledged worked better than what he'd suggested.

It was so odd that Jihoon felt so protective of this song when it wasn't even his song anymore. You had made it so much better, and now the two singers were going to apply their own professional minds to the song. This is how it always went.

So why was he jealous of not being on the track himself? Of not being the one in the booth with you? Jihoon saw Dokyeom tap you on the shoulder to encourage you to join him on the final vocal runs. Oh yes, he was definitely feeling weirdly jealous over you two for some reason.

The music ended and you looked through the glass directly at Jihoon, eyes shining at him with a huge grin across your face. Jihoon found himself smiling back. You looked really beautiful at that moment.

Dokyeom's eyes widened as he glanced between you and Jihoon. He had never seen Jihoon appear so connected with a virtual stranger. The camera crew appeared to think the same thing, because he saw one of them move to get a close up of Jihoon, and he saw the robotic camera in the booth tilt toward you.

You broke eye contact with Jihoon to take off your headphones and thank Dokyeom for a chance to record the song for fun, and Jihoon shook himself out of whatever bizarre hypnosis he was going through. He headed over to the computer to send this track to his personal email, just in case he may want to listen to it later.

After a few more recordings of Dokyeom alone (his raw vocals were no joke), the three of you chatted in the studio while the engineer finalized the tracks and Dokyeom suggested getting dinner.

"I would love to, but I'm meeting my roommate for dinner," you explained. "We live nearby."

"Invite them!" Dokyeom replied. "Let me pick a spot and send you the location." He scrolled through the map on his phone.

Jihoon tidied the studio and listened to the two of you talk about dinner options. So you lived nearby and had a roommate. For some reason, he liked learning things about you. It must be because you worked together so well.

Dokyeom selected a restaurant and you called your roommate to ask about meeting you and your friends for dinner. You made eye contact with Jihoon when you said that into your phone. "Friends." Were the two of you friends now? Maybe.

...

"Jihoon, did you watch the new behind the scenes video?" Seungcheol asked as they rode to their next schedule.

Jihoon responded without looking up from his phone. "Not yet. It’s been a busy week."

"The fans are going crazy over your recording with Y/N."

Jihoon looked up at the sound of your name. He didn't realize Seungcheol knew who you were. "My recording with Y/N? You mean Dokyeom's OST recording?"

"That's not what Carats are calling it."

Seungcheol held his phone up so Jihoon could see a fan edit of the few clips from the episode that showed you with him in the studio. It ended with a screenshot from Dokyeom's Instagram story showing the three of you at dinner after the recording, in a photo taken by your roommate.

"What is that all about?" Jihoon wondered aloud. He was genuinely confused.

"Are you two dating?" Seungcheol asked directly.

Behind him in the car, Jeonghan and Minghao immediately stopped chatting. This was far more interesting than their conversation. While eavesdropping, Jeonghan frantically searched your name and Jihoon's name on social media to find the clip Seungcheol was talking about.

"No," Jihoon replied. "We worked together on the song and Dokyeom suggested we have dinner. We had dinner another time, too."

"That’s it?" Seungcheol asked skeptically.

"What do you mean? That's it."

Seungcheol looked from Jihoon to his phone, where the edit was playing again. Seungcheol agreed with the fans. There were definitely sparks between you and Jihoon. Maybe Jihoon didn't realize it yet.

By then, Jeonghan had found the clip and was watching it on mute with Minghao. They shared a meaningful look. They would probably agree with Seungcheol on his theory.

Jeonghan opened his text thread with Soonyoung and sent him a message out of curiosity. "Do you still hang out with Y/N?"

...

You were surprised by the reaction to the behind the scenes video. Most of your friends were excited to see the clips of Jihoon and Dokyeom and kept telling you the video was so cute.

Back when Dokyeom tagged you on his Instagram story, you explained to your friends that you worked on something with them and it had been an amazing experience. They were all happy for you and excited after the song was released and became so popular.

The fans seemed to have the same reaction as your friends. You were naturally a little nervous about what Carats would say when Jihoon's company asked if you were willing to be recorded. After the video, the fans seemed to think you were adorable and talented and that you worked well with Jihoon. It wasn't the dramatic reaction your roommate predicted.

But your roommate was also convinced you were into Jihoon and he was into you. While that might be half true, despite your denial, nothing in the video showed anything personal between you and Jihoon. Not that there was anything personal between the two of you, but sometimes you felt like he was giving…something. His attention felt more intense than regular coworker attention. You sort of loved having all his attention focused on you.

Nevertheless, you were barely in the video after all, since it was about Dokyeom recording the song. They cut the entire section with the track you sang with Dokyeom. The few clips where you appeared mostly showed you chatting and interacting with Jihoon, and you may have watched one or two fan edits of those scenes.

No matter what was or wasn't going on between you and Jihoon, you would never forget immediately after the music stopped, when the two of you stared into each other's eyes in a perfect moment in time.

Even if he never contacted you again, you would never forget that moment.

...

[Jihoon] 13:30 - I just learned the song was nominated for best OST

[Y/N] 13:31 - WHAT?? Really??

[Jihoon] 13:31 - It's your first nomination right?

[Y/N] 13:31 - Yes!

[Y/N] 13:31 - I can't believe it

[Y/N] 13:32 - I'm in shock

[Jihoon] 13:32 - I asked them to invite you to the ceremony

[Y/N] 13:32 - You didn't have to do that

[Jihoon] 13:33 - I have to sit with the group, but even if we don't win I want it to be a special night for you

[Jihoon] 13:33 - It's an honor to be nominated

[Y/N] 13:34 - Thank you so much for including me in all of this

[Jihoon] 13:34 - You earned this

...

"...produced by Woozi of Universe Factory, and written by Woozi of Universe Factory and Y/N of Bespoke Records. This is the first win and first nomination in this category for these songwriters. Please welcome Woozi and Dokyeom to the stage."

Jihoon was actually surprised the song won. The other nominees were very popular as well, but all were produced by groups who wrote many drama OSTs. Seungkwan clapped his back and encouraged him to go up to the stage with Dokyeom as the members cheered and clapped around him. Above the noise, Jihoon could hear the song playing in the background.

As he stood, he took a moment to scan the audience, hoping he might see you. He didn't know where your assigned seat was, only that you weren't at one of the tables at the front with the larger groups and celebrities. He knew you were here because of the excited text messages you sent him after you spotted his table.

Dokyeom led the way to the stage. Jihoon reached the microphone and accepted the award, bowing to the MCs. They stepped back and motioned toward the microphone. Dokyeom nodded encouragingly. Jihoon had done this so many times yet completely forgot what he was supposed to do this time. He wished you were on stage with him.

"Thank you, thank you everyone. Thank you to the company and the drama producers for this opportunity. Thank you to the viewers for appreciating the song from rookie OST producers. Thank you to Y/N, who is also here tonight, for elevating the song to what you hear today. She…"

Jihoon trailed off as loud applause covered his voice and people seemed to be looking at the screen behind him. He turned to look and his mind went blank. You looked radiant in your elegant dress and glowing smile.

He'd never seen you in such a beautiful gown (he only saw you in jeans or sweats and he loved that didn't follow all the trends). Your makeup was shimmering on camera (your everyday makeup always wore off by the time you arrived at your late night meetings but you were always beautiful to him). Everything about you was captivating.

He was a man of few words, generally, but right now he was speechless.

Finally, Dokyeom poked his side and nodded toward the microphone forcefully. Jihoon's years of media training kicked in and he turned back to the audience to finish his speech.

"Thank you also to our wonderful singers who brought so much life to the song. I hope we are all able to return to you soon as stronger artists."

When Jihoon returned to his seat, Soonyoung eagerly whispered, "Y/N looks gorgeous, doesn't she? How did you know she was here?"

"I invited her," Jihoon replied. And she does look amazing, he thought to himself.

...

Late that night, many hours later, Jihoon's phone buzzed as he filled a glass of water. He looked at the notification and saw it was a message from you.

[Y/N] 4:13 - Thank you so much for everything. I'm going to remember tonight for the rest of my life. It was an honor to work with you and I'm so proud of the song.

Jihoon looked at the time. Maybe it was too late to call you, but you were clearly up too late thinking about things, just as he was. He tapped the icon to call you and was still a little surprised when you picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi. I just wanted to say it was a privilege to work with you too.” There was a pause and he awkwardly filled it. “The award will be sent to your company after they engrave it.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ve never won anything before. It still doesn't feel real.”

Jihoon heard a small thump in the background. It sounded like you sat down. He sat down on the couch himself and set his glass on the table in front of him.

“It would be funny if we worked together again and won another award.”

It wouldn’t be funny, Jihoon thought. It was very possible. You were extremely talented. “Why not? You should send me some of your songs.”

You chuckled into his ear. Something about this made his heart beat faster. “I've been thinking about doing that but I didn't know if you would want to listen to my music.”

“Of course I do.”

The line went silent.

Jihoon wondered if you could tell how he felt about you. His friends told him women were more perceptive than they expected, especially if you treat them disrespectfully. He tried to treat everyone with respect. But he wanted more from you. He wanted more with you.

“YN? Are you still there?”

“I am,” you replied quietly.

“After you send me some songs, should we have dinner again? Just us. We can talk about the songs.” He paused, thinking of how to put into words what he felt about you. “And anything else on your mind. I really like it when you tell me what you're thinking about.”

“That would be great. I would love to.” He could hear your smile over the phone.

#seventeen fluff #svt fluff #woozi fluff #jihoon fluff #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #seventeen fanfic #wavelikewhat #woozi fanfic #lee jihoon #jihoon imagines #woozi #jihoon #svt #seventeen #wavelikewhat svt

966 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 3 months

Text

sorry I can't get over/keep forgetting that episode 2 outright said that Angel was either living IN V Tower with Val or living in the studio, (Val literally says "he thinks he can work and then go home somewhere else?!" while AT home) and like

Shit man if he's willing to let Angel sleep in his house and have this weird possessive sexual obsession over him when they're not even fucking dating, and considering how large V Tower looks from outside, it kinda leads me to believe Valentino would lure a potential darling into living at his home under the guise of "oh, I have plenty of room, Angel already lives there, you'd have rides to work and a little friend ;)"

and like Valentino may entirely be correct, he DOES have more space than he knows what to deal with, and there have been employers to house their employees before, but imagine him offering you shelter at his house like night ONE and Angel's head SNAPS to look between both of you because??? Huh??? Whuh??? Val isnt nice unless he WANTS something, and Angel barely knows you, but, you've been nice all night and he can tell by looking at you that maybe you shouldn't even be "down here" AT ALL. he's risking his own safety to interrupt the conversation, "Val, c'mon, don't, they're just a kid" ( 'kid' as in you're probably still in your 20s, whereas he's been dead SINCE the twenties and is technically over a hundred years old)

but Valentino just looks at him with this fake smile, "why don't you go make me a drink Angel"

"But Val-"

"WHY DON'T YOU GO MAKE ME A DRINK ANGEL :)"

And Angel is walking away... leaving you with Valentino... telling himself that he's pathetic and worthless for not being able to help more. But.... if he's going to be trapped in that awful house with that horrible man, at least, now, being there means he can help protect you. He doesn't care if Val takes it out on him at the studio the next day; Angel makes sure you're safe and you at least get to sleep during your first night in the afterlife

when Angel runs off to the Hazbin Hotel, though, of course that means he'll take you with and he'll tell you as many horrific and humiliating stories about his experiences with Val as you need to hear until you finally listen and come with him, sneaking out once Val is asleep, potentially mayhe even "assisted" into slumber by Anthony to help you two run away. You're like his lil sibling now; he couldn't POSSIBLY leave you behind! 🥺❤️

Or worse... maybe you have to run back for something, or you're a little slower than Angel, and you get caught. "What do you think you're fucking doing?", you're spinning around, Val has woken up, Anthony is waiting outside... you risk it all to text him quickly on your phone, "he's awake. RUN" and hitting the side button of your phone just before Valentino swipes it, looking at your lockscreen with FURY because now you're HIDING shit from him TO HIS FACE

Valentino grabs you HARD by your arm and is just about to start really screaming at you asking what the fuck you're doing and. Angel appears. He could've ran away but he came back for you 🥺 he tells Valentino he was just gonna take you out for some fun and, it wasn't YOUR idea, it was his, HE convinced you to try and leave the house at night without Valentino's permission, and you have to hold your tongue in horror as Val drags him away and orders you to go back to your room, "or else!!"

You're sobbing your little heart out and his entire body hurts when he practically limps (for multiple reasons) back to your room, but, at least when you hold him and hug him and promise you'll do anything to help get both of you out of here, it helps everything feel better...

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

185 notes · View notes

viccharine · 8 months

Text

do you guys ever listen to a band so much that you end up making fake merch for it?

(reblogs greatly appreciated!!!!)

close ups and commentary under the cut!

about the poster itself: do you guys know how hard it is to make art for a band that hasn’t been active in 13 years? the answer is HARD (yes, i probably could done research and looked for old interviews for inspiration but who has time for that)

—> the icons related to “take a vacation!” are inspired by lyrics from the song “take a vacation!” (haha, did you see what I did there?) specifically, the lines “we’ll leave the waves at the ocean” and “we’ll leave the sand in a suitcase”

—> the Jon Walker and Ryan Ross icons are taken directly from the album cover (it took ten years off my life trying to figure out how to get them on here w/ the color palette—graphic design may be my passion but I never said i was GOOD at it)

—> the heart imagery comes from the fact that the band’s called “the young VEINS”—although it annoys me IMMENSELY that i technically drew more arteries than veins in the icons (my anatomy teacher would be so disappointed, but alas, anatomical accuracy had to be sacrificed to make it. yknow. look nice)

—> i did hand-lettering for all the text except for everything that’s in Helvetica (i did THAT in canva). the art program i use has a basically unusable text tool so I was forced to draw all of it, so I choose to believe that the reason why it doesn’t look. the best. is because of the caffeine shakes

some extra commentary: am I the only one who’s genuinely REALLY bad at listening to music? i don’t really get into bands as much as i just find songs that sound nice—to illustrate the extent of this issue: i did NOT know that Brendon Urie was a part of Panic! At the Disco. I’m not even kidding, I thought the artist who made Death of a Bachelor and the artist who made A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out were completely different and just. didn’t bother to check if I was right.

also, I’m not the type of person to be interested in band lore???? I rarely know the names of band members if even I’ve listened to the band for years (I really couldn’t care less in most situations)

case in point, i did not know who the FUCK Ryan Ross was!!! i knew he was in p!atd but that’s literally about it—before a couple of days ago if you asked to me pick out either Ryan Ross or Jon Walker from a line up I would not be able to get even CLOSE

anyway, my friend/manager is really into band lore, so I basically got a crash-course in all things “early to late 2000s emo band” and subsequently found out about the Young Veins (i was also extremely disappointed when I found out they only had one album and hadn’t been active in over a decade) THEN I realized that decade old, inactive bands don’t usually have merch, so I made my own! “merch” used lightly—i don’t think this is actually fit to sell lol

anyway that’s all k thanks byeee :D!! (and go stream the young veins!!)

242 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 9 months

Text

8/13/2023 : LRLG Contribution 🍓🥝

well… i didn’t expect this release today but i’m taking it and i’m happy that we have them back with us! and released on the 13th too. what a good number! 🫶🏼

you all know how this works, let’s play a game and guess what the “scenes” are referring too 😂😂😂

everything is fake. fanfiction. i don’t have the permission to transfer the whole content. so some parts will be incomplete and others i will just explain what’s happening.

It starts with WYB talking to someone, and it’s obviously XZ.

WYB: 👀

WYB: "nice"

WYB: "Will not guard XZ's freedom to dress” ( I think this means Web won’t get in the way of whatever XZ wants to wear. )

WYB: it's beautiful

WYB: “Really nice��

WYB: I haven't changed yet, don't worry

WYB: come in a while

WYB: "oh"

WYB: "good"

WYB: Just take a picture and wear it. I'll be there later.

So this is 99.9% an event where they both attended and that’s two so far, Weibo Night and that gala in HK. My money is on Weibo Night tho, because WYB said he will come later. In the HK gala, WYB was visible very early in the venue even if technically XZ flew to HK before him.

The wedding clothes 💌

and XZ can wear anything and WYB will probably go— “wow xiao laoshi!” 😍😍😍😍 some are also interpreting WYB’s words ( freedom to dress ) as a sort of comfort to XZ. He was probably hesitant to wear what he did and thought it would be better to play safe. But has a very supportive s/o ( WYB ) who knows what to say to boost XZ’s confidence.

The next part is, still not sure if this is a continuation of WB night. But a girl is saying XZ is beautiful and WYB is there with this expression on 🥹

XZ: "I told you I can not come"

WYB: “Um?"

XZ: “Just kidding, kidding"

XZ: "Do you want to shoot when you go back tonight?"

and then the girls, most likely staff told XZ they can continue and that he (XZ) should coax the child (WYB)

NEXT UP IS A RANDOM EXCHANGE, but cpfs think they are playing a game:

WYB: "Why don't I have a mask"

XZ: "Because you don't have an eyeshadow palette..”

WYB: "What to use"

XZ: "Small eyeshadow combined with big eyeshadow"

WYB: “boring”

XZ: “Don't play when you're bored"

WYB: "Who shared it with me"

XZ: "Don't order it"

(….)

XZ: "There are a lot of materials that you can't sell, but you can use them later.

WYB: "Kids don't play this.”

XZ: "Yeah, adults are playing"

WYB: “….”

Some are guessing it might be this — Dream Detective. I understand cause games like this are relaxing, you won’t be so stressed about it. Plus when I read the reviews, they said the graphics are good so maybe that’s why XZ likes it. So cute tho how WYB will try everything XZ recommends — he will also play with him even if it’s not his type of game. There are other guesses on what they’re playing but this is the one i’m going with.

Then we have another block of text from WYB.

WYB: "When will there be a holiday for you?”

WYB: "Come and see me, come and see me if you're not tired"

WYB: "So are you coming or not"

WYB: "There is nothing missing, and you can buy it here"

WYB: "You and I can't buy it"

OMG MY HEART. Come and see me, come and see me if you're not tired. He’s just so 🥹🥹🥹🥹. How can you say no to that huh XZ? and WYB knows it’s inconvenient to meet but maybe there are days that he really needs company and XZ will grant him that. I’m just so happy they have each other.

"There is nothing missing, and you can buy it here" >> CPFs also interpret this part as, we don’t need anything. You’re all i need, you are something money can’t buy. Anything else we can buy and replace.

I don’t fully understand the next exchange but it’s WYB talking to some people. Not sure if staff or cast. I can’t figure out of the context and looks like it’s not cpn-y. I could be wrong, again, some things on here are hard to connect. But what stood out is this exchange :

WYB: "You can't see both sides, right? You know whether he's skinny or fat."

👧: “Let's just say I've never paid attention to this issue"

👩‍🦳"Besides, you can see it in the video, you have to touch it to know."

So this is like Web who cares if XZ eats enough and he will know that by how XZ looks. If he’s grown too skinny or what. Years later, he’s still so attentive about XZ’s health! 😌😌😌

Then back to WYB again who is obviously talking about The Longest Promise / Yuguyao

WYB: “Didn’t eat, not very hungry”

WYB: "Will you be sad if I don't eat?

WYB: "( laughs ) they're all talking"

WYB: "they said you're good at acting, you're immortal

WYB: "If you don't believe me, ask them yourself"

WYB: “Rave reviews”

Awww. He’s such a supportive boyfriend! I’m cackling tho at how he used that iconic line. In the drama it should be will you be sad if I die?

Kidding aside, yes Yibo. XZ will be sad ( and most likely angry at you ) if you don’t eat!!!

XZ: "Don't listen to this"

WYB: "Your hair can be braided.”

WYB: "Is it hot for you to wear a wig?"

XZ: "nothing to eat"

WYB: "Brother X went to buy it, it was delicious"

Then Web tells him to lie down for a while, an assistant said she will get a pillow and then WYB said he will go out and make a call ( so XZ can rest ).

THE HAIR! XZ’S LONG HAIR!!!!! This? In braids??? WYB i hate you for putting thoughts in my head!

THEN THIS. Everyone’s favorite Chongqing pepper strikes again 🌶️🌶️🌶️

WYB: "Didn't I say come back when you're not tired?"

XZ: "I'm not tired on the road, I'm tired when I arrive"

WYB: "Thank you for coming all this way"

XZ: "I came all the way here and you still go out with your phone"

WYB: "I didn't call. I remember there was a massager, but I couldn't find it.

XZ: “neck pain”

WYB: “i’ll give you a massage”

OMG GG. 😂😂😂😂

Don’t worry, i’m sure WYB loves your more than his phone or whatever! LOL. and you have WYB who is good at coaxing and will massage XZ. God. They are so sweet. I hate them. 💀💀💀💀

There’s also a part of this, they are talking about food and ordering and XZ said he wants an egg custard tonight, so of course WYB made it happen.

There is an exchange where WYB said “"You scared them so much that they dare not eat!” I wanna know. Who was the group or person who sensed XZ’s hangry energy / face that it scared them 😂😂😂

That’s all!!!!

I enjoyed this LRLG and there is also some feeling of relief cause we thought they would be gone for good. Or they will return but not this early. I like reading about their simple life and interactions. Some turtles are also commenting about the two sides of Xiao Zhan and how WYB is the only one who gets to see this side of him.

SO TRUE. 💯

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #peak clowning behavior 😂😂😂😂#there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

187 notes · View notes

rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

annoying (derogatory). ldh

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem! reader genre: college au, halloween au | crack(?), fluff wc: 3k (2.920) warnings: too much alcohol, kind of rushed and very stupid a/n: i know its technically not halloween anymore but this idea came to me this morning and i just had to write it. haven't posted anything in a while and i missed writing a lot <3 also thank you @decembermoonskz and @yaesnovels for the help with this fic!

you arrive at a halloween party only to find out your biggest nightmare came true in real life: you accidentally wear matching couple outfits with your biggest enemy. or where annoying (derogatory) turns into annoying (affectionate).

Black skinny jeans, blue jean button-up, black shoes and a tacky black coat. Your eyes meet with none other than your main enemy, a shit-eating grin slowly creeping at his face making you freeze in your spot and arch your back like an angry cat when you realise a fact that is immediately confirmed by the snicker coming from behind your ear.

“Your couple costume is so good guys, didn’t know you were dating-”

“Jeno, shut the fuck up. You know damn well this is not a couple costume,” you mutter, not liking the fact that your friend is feeding into this situation.

“Oh,” Jeno blinks, faking a surprise, “but he’s Edward. And… you’re Bella… isn’t it a couple costume, then?” he asks, pouting, acting lost in thought.

“No, it’s not-”

“Just admit that you planned this all along, Y/N,” Donghyuck grins, “you wanted to match with me, obviously.”

“I did not! I didn’t even know you’re going as Edward. If I knew, I wouldn’t have gone as Bella, for fuck’s sake,” you mourn in agony, hating the Halloween party you were invited to already, solely for the fact that you’re accidentally wearing couple costumes with the guy you hate the most on this earth.

Lee Donghyuck has been on your death wishlist for as long as you’ve known him. His annoying (derogatory) attitude and the confidence he radiates was already a hint for you that you wouldn’t like him when you first met him at university, but it was only solidified on one sunny day when he made fun of your haircut. Yeah, it might have been a bad, terrible haircut– you can even admit that– but he really didn’t have to call you Dora the explorer every time he saw you at campus until your hair didn’t grow back. Yes, this was the exact situation that made you hate the guy more than you hate anything in this world. Some would say you’re petty. You just think you’re being reasonable.

“I talked about it in the groupchat!” Hyuck exclaims, referencing the Whatsapp group chat you’re both in because of mutual friends.

“Well, I have your number blocked so I don’t have to read your annoying messages every morning,” you snap, seeing Donghyuck only smile at your frustrated figure, making you more annoyed.

“I’ll have you know, Ryujin enjoys my good morning texts,” he smugly proclaims, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you nod, “because she lacks common sense,” you add, seeing the man in front of you snicker at your nasty remark, loving the sight of you all worked up and frustrated.

“Don’t be mean,” he says, “I thought that was my job. Or, at least, that’s what you told me when I called you Dora-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, not this again,” you roll your eyes at him, not wanting to see the look on his face he always has when he teases you. “See? He’s being annoying again-” you turn around, wanting to find comfort in Jeno, only to realise he’s no longer watching over your little quarrel, but is standing in the corner of the room with his friends from class instead, drinking out of a small red cup.

Turning back around to see Donghyuck leaning on the kitchen counter, hands resting at the very top, you try hard to ignore the grin on his face. Catching him eyeing you from head to toe, you furrow your brows and shake your head in disapproval. “Stop staring at me, weirdo.”

“Just wanting to see if you’ve done a better job than me, that’s all.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sigh, walking over to the kitchen counter, looking for a cup that would contain something you’d enjoy drinking– because you can’t even smell vodka without wanting to physically carve your stomach out of your body (you’d call this reflex your bad flashbacks from war)– Donghyuck’s voice lands into your ear once again, possibly the effect of his figure standing so close to yours.

“Chill out already, would you? Let’s dance,” he says, pointing his chin towards the living room, resonating with roaring music and filled with various other people from your university, all dressed in costumes. A rumor has it that Johnny-- the host-- was kicking out everyone that came without one, and with how much this guy loves Halloween, you don't even try to doubt the information.

You huff, laughing at Hyuck's proposal. “I would rather die than to dance with you, Lee Donghyuck.”

Silence– well, to a certain extent, with the loud EDM music playing in the background– overtakes the two of you after your response, your eyes still searching through the sea of alcohol poured in various red cups over on the kitchen counter, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Do these people really not drink anything other than vodka and cheap beer? Sighing in disappointment, almost reaching for the beer– because everything’s better than vodka– a hand holding a single red cup comes into your rear point of vision, making you look up at your silent companion in confusion.

Taking the cup into your hand and sniffing, your eyes meet your supposed enemy, to which he expressionlessly says: “Rum and coke. I know vodka makes you puke.”

“Thanks,” you say, hesitantly taking a sip and averting your gaze from the male, taken aback by his sudden act of service.

“Will you dance with me now?”

Sighing, you shoot him a glance, seeing the shit-eating grin appearing on his face again, making your blood boil at unreachable heights. “I will kill you tonight, Hyuck.”

“We’ll see about that, spider monkey.”

“Oh, you two look amazing together-”

“We’re not a couple,” you cut off the stranger passing you by on your walk down the street, sighing to yourself.

A few drinks, screams at the top of your lungs on the dance floor and selfies in your Halloween costumes later, you two and another few friends– the most sober ones of the group– were sent on a McDonald’s run. You argued that you could just order pizza, or that you could just get Postmates, but Jisung got too drunk to remember how it works and insisted on you getting it personally, because, quote, the stranger could eat his chicken wings, and, well, Jeno can never say no to Jisung, so… here you are.

“Not gonna lie, dudes,” Mark says, laughing to himself, “the disgusted look on Y/N’s face every time she has to explain this to someone is the only thing keeping me going right now.”

“I’m glad that at least someone is having fun,” you mutter under your breath.

“Who said he was the only one? I am enjoying this,” Donghyuck snickers, walking by your side as if to annoy you even further. Every time his hand accidentally brushes against yours as you walk– because even though you’re the most sober of the group, the amount of rum and cokes you’ve drank tonight is still enough to make you walk a little to the side– makes you want to turn around on your heel and scream into an endless void full of your misery.

Every time you see the man next to you grin with his perfect pearly whites, the hairs on your arms stand up in nerves, your stomach feels funny and the pit on the very bottom of it only deepens. You’ve never felt this much frustration, annoyance and anger towards someone. Normally, you’re a pretty chill person– it’s just that Lee Donghyuck is a menace to society and to yourself twice as much.

Walking into the McDonald’s that’s luckily only a few streets away from Johnny’s house, you stand in line and wait for your turn to finally order the endless list of meals the group waiting back at the party managed to stick together. Looking around, seeing a long line of teenagers dressed in various costumes, you find a new sense of appreciation for humanity. Isn’t it funny how once a year, we dress as someone else for one day just because we feel like it? Humans are actually pretty cute, if you think about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t notice Donghyuck talking to someone that’s standing behind him. His words blur in your tipsy mind, allowing yourself to relax for just a bit and calm down before you have to carry the bags with food down the street again, back to the party, when the words girlfriend and Bella startle you awake.

“Yeah, it took me so long to convince her to come as Bella, ‘cause she always refuses to watch the movies with me, but she loves me too much, so she finally agreed-”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Donghyuck?” you ask, not even having enough energy to scream at him anymore, just furrowing your brows in resignance.

“Don’t mind her, she gets a little grumpy when she’s drunk, right, sweetie?” Hyuck grins at you as he puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The smell of his showergel mixed with the cologne he uses– strawberries and coconut with just a hint of pinewood– hits your nose, making you swim in a weird sense of comfort and jumpiness. You once told him he uses too much cologne. He joked that it was so you would notice him, but ever since, the smell of his cologne has become less prominent, the sweet mix of strawberries and coconut making itself more known to your nose every time he was close to you in any way.

“We’re not even dating…” you lock eyes with the stranger dressed like Batman as you sigh, seeing the confusion in his hooded eyes when they jump from your figure to Donghyuck’s close to each other in a comfortable embrace.

Standing in the line at McDonald’s, various grinning teenagers pointing towards you two and telling you what a cute couple you are, you grow tired of explaining to them that your matching costumes are a mere coincidence. And with Lee Donghyuck sabotaging your every attempt at getting it straight and telling everyone that you actually hate your supposed other half, it becomes impossible to spread your truth, and so you just eventually stop trying.

Drinking so much the world is spinning and you feel hot in your cheeks, talking in the kitchen with Jaemin, Jeno and (ignoring) Donghyuck, you feel like this evening couldn’t get any better. You see, you may sound like an alcoholic right now, but the more rum and coke you drink, the less you mind Hyuck’s annoying teasing and the bad music choices from the resident DJ Jungwoo. You asked him to play Pitbull twice. He refused both times, and if that’s not a sign of a bad DJ, you don’t know what is.

Laughing at a joke Jaemin made, you momentarily lock eyes with Hyuck before you jump up in surprise at a loud scream coming from behind your back.

“Bella! Where the hell have you been, loca?!”

Turning around, you see a tall man with a wig on, wearing the most ratchet outfit cut out of a 2009 movie– there was no doubt, this was none other than Xiao Dejun dressed as Jacob from Twilight. Laughing at the whole situation– because there’s nothing else you’re able to do now, after realising that the three of you accidentally wore the costumes of a love triangle without knowing the other’s intentions, you watch as the man replicates the scene from the movie and runs towards you to pick you up into a spinning hug.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you giggle when he puts you on the ground.

“Why? You didn’t plan this?” he asks, seemingly not knowing about the rivalry between you and Hyuck as his eyes dance from him to you, seeing you shake your head in disapproval.

“Don’t listen to him if he tries to tell you otherwise, but no, we did not plan this,” you laugh, seeing Dejun join you in the little moment of you slowly going crazy.

“Well, that’s just great, because that means I can drag you to the dancefloor without Edward here getting mad at me!” Dejun yelps as he physically drags you to the living room by your right hand, body swaying to the beat of the never-stopping EDM music playing through the speakers. You don’t really remember you and Dejun being this close, you only had a few classes with him last semester, but it seems that the alcohol level in your blood is no longer letting you have any barriers tonight. Eyes shortly switching to the kitchen– completely subconsciously, really– you notice Donghyuck staring at the two of you with a cold look, jaw clenched. It only adds to the costume of Edward, you’d say, since you don’t remember the man having any other expressions in the movie, but the sight of Hyuck looking like that makes you a little taken aback, since you’ve never seen him with this face before.

“Are you sure you two didn’t come together? ‘Cause Edward Cullen over there looks a little jealous, if I may say so myself,” Dejun screams into your ear, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Don’t mind him,” you shake your head, “we hate each other.”

Dejun’s eyes widen at your last sentence, surprise overtaking his features. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you snicker, “he called me Dora the explorer for two months after I got a really bad haircut, I can’t stand that guy,” you laugh, seeing Dejun only snicker as he takes your right hand and rises it towards the ceiling, urging you to twirl for him like a ballerina.

“Well, that’s understandable,” he laughs, “even I’d hate him for that, if I was in your place.”

When the song ends and Dejun finds another familiar face in the corner of the living room, you find yourself sitting on the abandoned sofa in the middle of the room, finally letting yourself take deep breaths and try to force your head to stop spinning. Fanning your face before you take off your statement Bella zip-up hoodie, you let your eyes rest for a moment as you notice the sharp pain in your left temple– the first sign that you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight. Telling yourself you’re only gonna stay until you don’t feel a bit better, you try to force your brain to not shut off, before a painful slap to your thigh startles you awake as the sofa dips next to you with the weight of another figure.

“You okay?” you hear the all too familiar voice of none other than tonight’s Edward Cullen. After so many hours of being around him, you don’t even hate it as much anymore– in the loud screaming of the evening, you’d even consider it a safe haven.

Humming in agreement as you nod, you notice his hand on your thigh lightly massaging the spot he slapped before, the touch of his hand burns your clothed skin, sending shivers down your spine. “You want some water?” he asks, but as you shake your head to say no, there’s not a single thought in your head as you focus on the motion of his fingers on your leg, thinking of how you’ve never seen him so caring before, making you believe that maybe if he wasn’t so annoying towards you, you wouldn’t hate him as much.

“Do you want to go home?” he asks again, making you want to curse at him for breaking the silence (well, not really, since the havoc is still happening and the music is still playing), but instead, you only hum and cover his hand on your thigh with your palm, not even thinking about your actions. The danger of drinking is that you never know when the drink you have is the last one that takes you over the edge of having fun to being absolutely fucking miserable, and you think that the one you had right before Dejun dragged you to the dance floor was exactly the one doing just that.

“In a bit. Want my head to stop spinning so much first,” you say, letting your head drop onto his shoulder, enjoying the calmness of the situation after the stress and loudness of the whole night.

The smell of strawberries and coconut overtakes the smell of alcohol lingering in the room, calming your senses and making you wonder why you never gave Hyuck a chance before. It’s not like he was wrong about the haircut, after all…

“I’m team Edward, just by the way,” Donghyuck mumbles into your ear, making you snicker. To think you were considering that he wasn’t so bad just a few seconds ago…

“You know, Hyuck, I’m starting to think you’re an actual vampire, with how you’re sucking out my energy the whole evening,” you mutter, hearing the boy laugh at your comment before his tone turns suggestive as he leans even closer to your ear.

“Maybe I can suck your neck instead, like an actual vampire, you know-”

Feeling hot in your cheeks from the comment that just escaped from between his lips, hating the way it made you feel all funny in your stomach, you sigh and move away from him, standing up from the sofa in urgency. “I’m actually going to kill you, you know-”

“Oh, come on,” he giggles, taking you by your hand and dragging you back down to the sofa, “sit for a bit and then I’ll walk you home, okay? I was only joking…” he says, seeing you roll your eyes, but your body slides deeper into the sofa cushions, getting comfortable. “Unless…?”

Yeah, never mind. Lee Donghyuck is still the most annoying (affectionate) human being you’ve ever met in your whole, entire life.

859 notes · View notes

red1sg0n3 · 2 months

Text

COLOUR CREW INCORRECT QUOTES

my hand slipped :)

Pink: SIX MONTHS.

Rye: What’s she yelling about?

Red, Sweating: I’m sure it’s nothing

Pink: foR SIX MONTHS YOU WATCHED ME WATER A FAKE PLANT-

Pink, to Red: I’ve categorised your messages into three sections

Pink: ‘Messages from Red’, ‘Death Threats’, and ‘Death Threats from Red’.

Blue: What are you doing?

Red, surrounded by birds: Raising a family

Rye: I have no fears

Blue: What would you do if you woke up and Pink was taller than you?

Rye:

Rye: I have one fear.

Blue: Are we sure Red is getting enough sleep?

Pink: I think her eyes close when they sneeze.

Red: In your opinion whats the hight of stupidity?

Mochi, turning to Simp: Hey, how tall are you?

Red: Bitch.

Pink: Blocked.

Red: Wait unblock me I need to tell you something

Pink: …Unblocked.

Red: Bitch-

Rye, Bursting through the door looking panicked:

Blue: What happened?!

Rye: NOBODY DIED

Blue: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT??

Mochi: Man i just wanna get laid.

Mochi: In the ground. Put me in a coffin. Let my soul descend.

Simp: Descend?

Mochi: You heard me.

Mochi: Some people play hard to get!

Mochi: I play hard to want.

Pink: You ever wish you could block people in real life?

Blue: Restraining order

Red: Murder

Pink: Lets play 20 questions

Rye: Alright, what’s your favourite colour?

Pink: Tomato, do you like moth people—

Red: Hey I had a crazy idea

Blue: Those are never comforting words coming from you.

Red: Did you think this through?!

Simp: Bold of you to assume I think.

Red: Tea no longer keeps me going so I have Pink text me ‘We need to talk’ periodically so I have enough fear and anxiety to keep me going.

Blue: oh please Pink! You love-slash-loathe Rye! And Rye loves-slash-loathes you back, which is pretty much one step away from matrimony!

Blue: We need to learn to treat eachother with respect and dignity.

Blue: So shut the fuCK UP AND LISTEN—

Pink: How are you even alive?

Red: Dumb luck! In that I’m lucky all of you are so dumb.

Rye: Hey I need help with this crossword puzzle, Need a five letter word for disappointment.

Simp: Mochi

Mochi:

Rye: …well it fits.

Red: Gentle reminder to not eat too much before bed!

Pink: No

Red: This was a gentle reminder, yet your words of defiance brings me devoid amounts of rage.

Rye: Technically it was only one word of defiance.

Red: I want nothing more than to uppercut you into the stratosphere.

———————————————————

ENTITY IDENTIFICATIONS

@local-angst-dispenser / @witchybluedeity / @countavaricious / @sucuretcannelle / @theitskid

PINK / BLUE / WHITE / ORANGE / PURPLE

#i don't have to answer for my crimes #incorrect quotes #Colour Crew

8 notes · View notes

saucy-sassy-sparkly · 1 year

Text

Moments: Four

Author's Note: Darlings, here she is: part four. Part five is mostly drafted so we’re not finished yet ;)

Pairing: Chris (buzzcut era) Evans x reader

Word Count 6.7k

italics are flashbacks (except the beginning rambling), and bold are text.

Moments Masterlist

Four: 2012, Prague

The older we get, the more we come to appreciate the little things…

The stolen hour in your schedule for coffee and catching up with a friend.

The relief of warm socks, fresh out of the dryer, on a cold winter evening.

The taste of your mom’s chicken noodle soup when you feel like shit.

The warmth of a hug from your grandfather.

The smile a memory can give you, even when the moments around it hurt.

Those are the things that matter; creating a life made up of moments that fill your soul.

“Go again,” Chris rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath while he waited for everyone to reset. It was the third time they’d rehearsed this scene today and the stunt coordinators still weren’t happy. His back was covered in sweat and he was panting while he quietly embraced the few moments to catch his breath. He waited for the go signal, watching his castmates take directions and nod, feeling grateful that no one was approaching him. On the signal, he artfully twirled his fake ax and then charged at the oncoming foes, batting several out of the way quickly in a perfectly choreographed fight.

He ducked, struck, rolled, and attacked for several minutes, working his way from one end of the faux tunnel to another. When he did this on set, it would be darker and he’d have on far more- his T-shirt allowed him to move easily now but he knew he’d have to accommodate the bulk of the winter clothes his character- Curtis- would be in. Right now, in the lights of the rehearsal space, he could focus on each move he had to make and reciprocate appropriately. Chris was often grateful that fight scenes hardly had dialogue for good reason– he was out of breath by the time each sequence was done.

By the fifth time they reset and ran the sequence, the stunt coordinators were finally happy, which made Chris and his cast mates happy: that meant the end of the day. They’d been rehearsing all of the various technical sequences all day— all week in fact— and Chris was sore and tired. A hot shower, cold beer, and a cheeseburger from room service were calling his name. He could indulge tonight before a long-awaited day off from rehearsals. He’d been here a month and it was only the third full day off; he was hoping he finally had the energy to do a little sightseeing.

Y/N’s hand was cramping from the frantic notes she scribbled in her notebook. The speaker clicked through his slides at a ridiculously fast pace while she tried to make notes on best practices and new research to take back to her practice in DC. Because she was unmarried and childfree, she and two of her older colleagues– the one and only man, Keith, in their practice with college-aged children who she’d hardly spoken to, and a woman, Rachel, in her 50s who’d never married– had been voluntold that they would attend the annual International Psychology Conference in Prague. The other four women in her practice had young children and it was “hard to get away”.

So, Y/N had decided to take it as an adventure. She’d taken an additional week off of work to get to tour Prague. She’d flown out with Keith and Rachel on Monday evening and arrived in time to drop their bags at the hotel and attend the first series of lectures. On the flight, they’d spent the first 90 minutes going through the conference brochure and deciding which items would best suit their practice and who would attend each. The rest of the flight, while Keith napped, had been used for Rachel to explain to Y/N all the ways the other women in the practice were rich, selfish bitches that just wanted to make other people do things they didn’t want to.

Y/N was still new to the practice– new to the career in general. She’d been hired nine months ago after finishing her graduate degree and interviewing with several practices in the DC area. She’d fallen in love with this practice that was the #1 recommended practice for women and children experiencing abuse or homelessness in the DC area; when they’d offered her the job, she was over the moon. Her clients ranged from children to teens, from play therapy to talk therapy, and filled her heart knowing she spent her days helping others.

When she’d shared this with Rachel, Rachel had sighed, rolled her eyes, taken a huge gulp of her vodka tonic, and said, “You’re so sweet and inexperienced.”

The more time she spent with Rachel, the more she thought that maybe Rachel was the bitch…

“You should’ve brought a laptop,” the woman next to her whispered when Y/N dropped her pen to flex her hand a few times. She offered a half-hearted smile in return before beginning a flurry of more notes. By the time the speaker was finished, she’d covered the front and back of half a spiral notebook. It was filled with her scribbles from the whole week: each speaker, their background, their contact information, their research, their insight… She'd take it back to her hotel room and transcribe it neatly into a second spiral notebook that she would keep on her well-organized office shelf with all the other meticulously kept notebooks from college and grad school.

She met with Keith and Rachel to walk back to the hotel; Keith was clicking through his Blackberry, presumably messaging his wife as he had most days at the end of the conference, while Rachel had started talking about dinner. For the last four nights, they’d eaten together, chatted about the speakers they saw, and then retired to their rooms alone. Y/N didn’t mind Keith so much; he reminded her of her Uncle Chuck– he was kind and funny and minded his own business. Rachel was tiresome but intelligent; she’d tried to convince Y/N to go out in the evenings for a drink but she’d politely declined each time.

She was looking forward to the week by herself. She’d convinced her boss to let her stay the week– work would pay for her plane tickets while she had to cover the additional week of hotel stay on her own. That seemed like a fair compromise since they’d paid for her hotel and food for the nights she was there on business. Y/N hadn't allowed herself any kind of real celebration after getting her graduate degree; she’d just jumped straight into job hunting and her career. It was time to take a break and enjoy herself. This was her first vacation alone… ever… and she was more than ready to take in Prague in the spring.

“Want to meet in the lobby at 6 and go for dinner?” Rachel asked as they approached the hotel.

Keith shook his head, “I’m going to get room service and finish packing.”

Rachel turned to Y/N who offered a tight smile… she could do one more meal with Rachel before a week alone so she agreed quietly as they approached the elevator bank.

Chris had disembarked the shuttle from the studio and lumbered in the back entrance of the hotel with his cast mates; they chatted casually as they made their way to the elevator banks. An elevator arrived just a few moments later and people clambered in, quickly filling the space. Chris waved them on, not feeling like spending another second cramped in with the other sweaty, exhausted actors. He stood alone waiting for the next car to arrive when the click of high heels on the tiled floor alerted him to someone approaching.

Three figures– a barrel-chested man, a short, middle-aged woman, and a lithe woman about his age– stopped and reached for the elevator call button. It was already lit up from Chris, but the youngest woman tapped it once for good measure and then stepped back and away from it. Chris kept his eyes downcast, trying not to be noticed or engage in conversation. The last thing he had the energy to do was engage in appropriate social banter with strangers. It was hard enough before he became recognizable; now that he had a superhero gig under his belt, it was almost impossible to avoid small talk and autographs once he made eye contact.

That said, from where she stood a few feet beside and in front of him, he struggled not to notice the curve of the young woman’s legs or the way her heels accentuated them in her business casual outfit.

The elevator arrived and Chris stepped back to let people exit, his eyes still downcast and then gestures to his companions. The older woman walked by him swiftly without a word, the man offered him a curt nod, and the youngest woman said a quiet, “thanks,” as she stepped in front of him where his eyes were again drawn to her curves.

He moved quickly around the young woman and into the back corner where he could try to hide; the other woman asked, “What floor?”

“Seven, please.”

“Easy enough,” there was laughter in her tone when he realized she’d already hit seven for all of them.

She backed away from the buttons and started to talk to the younger woman next to her, asking about dinner. Her companion had moved back beside Chris to lean against the back of the elevator to surreptitiously lift each foot and roll her ankle.

They still hadn’t made eye contact– but as the floors quietly passed and he watched her move on to ease out of her shoe just enough to flex her foot. She talked quietly with her friend, making plans to meet back downstairs in a few hours.

When the conversation lulled, Chris couldn’t help himself, “I don’t know how people don’t break more ankles in heels,” he gestured at her feet. “Seems awful.”

“For the right shoe or the right occasion I’ll take the pain, but I regret my decision,” she started to turn to him but was distracted when the other woman cut in, “is it your ankle again?”

“Yeah,” the younger replied, “I have an old injury that sometimes acts up when I wear heels too much. I think walking on the cobblestones is getting to me.”

The elevator dinged quietly to signal arriving at the floor and Rachel stepped out, followed by Y/N, then Keith, and then Chris. Keith had quietly said goodbye as the elevator doors were opening and Y/N had already wished him a safe flight while Rachel promised to meet him in the lobby at 7:50 tomorrow morning.

Rachel had stopped in the middle of the hallway to talk to Y/N, effectively blocking Chris from going past in the thin halls of the historic building. “Excuse me,” he muttered quietly, trying to get their attention.

Y/N stepped out of the way without looking at Chris; her eyes were still trained on Rachel as she talked quickly about dinner. She hadn’t moved. Y/N grabbed her arm and started to pull her out of the middle of the hallway just as Chris had said, “can I just–” a little more forcefully than he intended.

“I’m moving,” Rachel snapped, looking up at him before her eyes got wide. “Oh God,” she gasped.

Chris wanted to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. He knew that reaction. He knew what was coming.

“Oh my God!” She said again, louder this time as she reached for his arm, “You’re Captain America!”

He slowly turned, trying to calm his breathing and stop the sweat that had just started to trickle down his neck again. He was so uncomfortable in these moments. He never knew what to do, how to respond, how long to stand there, how to get out of it… He took in the woman speaking. She wasn’t old and wasn’t unattractive; she was probably in her 50s with copper hair and green eyes; she was short and thin and had on a little more makeup than she needed, was dressed in a tailored pantsuit, and was grinning ear to ear.

“My nephews just love your movie, do you think I could take a picture with you to send them? I took them to see it in theaters. They watch it every time they come over. I’m a big fan too, you’re wonderful.”

Rachel was blushing furiously and talking faster than normal.

Chris forced a smile, “sure, I’d be happy to.”

Rachel turned to Y/N and started to hand her phone over, “Y/N, can you take it?”

Y/N didn’t respond.

Chris finally turned his attention to look at the other woman in the hallway and his breath caught in his throat.

He could still see the teenager in her face, but she was a full-grown woman now. She was stunning– as beautiful as he’d found her in line at the lift, in the tattoo parlor, on the dance floor. Years in between had done nothing but add to her beauty. She’d filled out in the most luscious, delicious way; his eyes trailed all across her body and back to her eyes. Those eyes. The ones he’d been able to both light up and tear up.

His heart hammered harder in his chest while he stared at her– the woman he’d been convinced was the one that got away. The woman he’d hated himself for leaving that night. The woman he very consciously compared every other woman to.

“Chris,” she breathed. He sighed her name in return, both of them staring in silence.

“Shit, Y/N, do you know him?” Rachel practically squealed, looking between the two of them.

“What are you–”

“I’m here for a conference, are you working?”

Chris nodded, “we’re in rehearsals now, filming starts in a few days.”

“Hi, Y/N, what's going on?” Rachel interjected again and Y/N felt frustration coiling, ready to snap. Her emotions were on overdrive right now and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was talk to this woman.

“We met years ago,” she turned to Rachel, trying to keep her voice from shaking, “we were kids. It’s been…” she trailed off.

“We met 15 years ago.” Chris finished for her, turning to Rachel. “Let’s get you that picture.” He told her, taking her phone and flipping it to the new front-facing camera. He held it at arm’s length and they both smiled. Chris took a few and then handed the phone back to Rachel who was already texting her nephews. Chris and Y/N were still staring at each other, neither one of them able to come up with the right words.

“I’ll meet you at 6, Y/N,” Rachel finally looked up from her phone and glanced between the two of them. “I’m going to need a lot of details,” she smirked and Y/N didn’t have the brainpower to roll her eyes. She knew that dinner was going to be a barrage of nosy questions. For a therapist, Rachel was not good at respecting boundaries.

“Should we… I mean… Why don’t we…” Y/N tried several different starts but faltered each time. Her whole body was shaking, she was sweating, and she was so anxious. Y/N was fiddling with the strap of her bag on her shoulder; Chris had seen her do this each time they’d been together– her anxiety manifested in fidgets and lip biting. The lip biting, he remembered, was one habit he liked on her.

“What room are you in?”

“734.”

“I’m 718,” Chris gestured in the opposite direction that Rachel had just walked. Had they been staying just rooms apart for days and never seen each other? They walked quietly down the hall and stopped in front of Chris’s room. They were both lost in thought for several more seconds before he said, “Do you have to go to dinner with her?”

Y/N huffed a laugh before glancing down the hall to see that Rachel was gone, “I don’t particularly want to, but it’s her last night and I already agreed to it.”

Chris nodded, “How long are you here?”

“Another week,” her fidgeting continued.

Chris visibly brightened, “Are you staying here the whole time?” She nodded. “I’m off tomorrow, can I take you to breakfast?”

Y/N hesitated and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth making Chris’s heart skip. She stared at him, her eyes bouncing between his before she nodded, “yes,” she said quietly.

“I’ll come get you at 10,” he started to reach for her, to pull her in for a hug, but he hesitated. He grasped the strap of his backpack tighter and raked his eyes over her face for any signs of regret, or hesitation. She was still biting her lip and watching him carefully; for a long moment, she didn’t respond to him and finally said simply, “okay.”

“See you in the morning,” he watched her walk down the hall, no more than 10 rooms away. He tried not to watch her ass, he tried to focus on all of her from the curve of her neck to the sway of her hips. She glanced back at him as she pulled out her room key; for the first time, she offered him a real smile, and even from down the hall, he saw a blush rise in her cheeks.

He launched his bag across the room to his bed and strode right into the bathroom to crank on the shower. Chris’s mind was racing. She was here. Y/N was here. She was down the hall, right now, and had been for days. He stripped out of the sweats and T-shirt sticking to his body and stepped into the warm water; he probably should’ve gone with a cold shower after seeing her; his whole body was tingling and excited. He was sweating again, he was anxious, and he was coursing with adrenaline.

He was positive, absolutely certain, he’d never have a chance to see her again. When he’d walked out of her DC apartment that night in a fit of stubborn stupidity, he’d hated himself every step of the way…

Chris shoved open the last door and let the cool night air hit him in the face. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was. How had he not seen it was her the moment his eyes fell on her? How had he taken this long to realize that it was Y/N? And more importantly, how was he a big enough dick that he’d just walked out on her after chasing her down and forcing his way into her apartment tonight.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. No wonder she’d rejected him. No wonder she's pushed him away. He was impulsive and expected her to jump into his arms with one big gesture. He’d expected that even after he’d misled her about Jessica. Even after he’d spent two hours up against her and flirting with her without realizing who she was. And shit, the comment about other women…

Had fame really done this to him? He had a little taste of being famous with one big movie and it had gone to his head this fast? Did he really have his head so far up his own ass that he didn’t realize the girl of his dreams was standing in front of him? He’d been thinking about her for years– what the fuck was wrong with him? How… HOW had he not realized? He hadn’t been up close to her in seven years but it didn’t mean he hadn’t pictured her, hadn’t seen her pictures….

Chris was cocky, that wasn’t a secret. He knew he was hot shit, he knew that women fell at his feet, and he knew that he enjoyed their attention. He bought them drinks, took them to bed, and didn’t call because he didn’t have to… there was always someone else. But never who he wanted.

Because she’d walked out of that shitty little Boston apartment and he hadn’t stopped comparing every woman’s laugh to hers. He’d followed her basketball career, showing up at any game in LA or Boston without her knowing. He’d watched her stats and seen her success. He’d been proud to see her play live, hiding in the upper levels of stadiums to avoid being noticed, dragging his brother or sisters along whenever he could to be able to blame them if anyone asked why he was there. They’d never asked why they were there. But they’d cornered him one Christmas after they’d all talked and all realized that they’d all been dragged to women’s collegiate basketball games… and always the same team… and then Scott had gotten on the school’s website and recognized that one face from when they were teenagers…

His family knew. His close friends knew. They all knew how bad Chris had it for Y/N.

And yet here he fucking was, standing outside her apartment after he’d stormed out for absolutely no good reason.

He should go back in; he should walk back up the stairs to pound on the door and demand she open it.

But he didn’t.

He sat down on the curb, grateful it was late and there were only a few passing cars on this side street. Chris sat on the curb, his head in his hands, and loathed every part of his being. He decided to sit out here and wait for her to come out. She’d have to leave eventually and he would be here to grovel. He wouldn’t make excuses, he’d be honest– that he was a self-centered asshat who didn’t know his head from his ass and should’ve known immediately who she was.

It wasn’t until almost an hour later when Y/N’s friends, including Annie who he recognized from that fateful weekend and the weeks after, came stumbling out of a cab.

“Christopher Evans,” she slurred, pointing a finger at him as the other girls piled out and into the building, “you hurt her again, didn’t you.”

“Annie,” he said in acknowledgment, not responding to the rest of her statement.

“You’re a dick.” She walked by him and towards the door. He hadn’t realized she’d seen him in there too; of course, she had. He followed her to the door when she whipped around, “You will not come in here!”

“I shouldn’t have walked out on her, please, Annie.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, watching him beg. She’d done it before, sitting in that park, listening to him plead his case. She had the same look on her face then– one that he couldn’t read; he took a step towards her.

“Annie,” he pleaded, “I know I messed up last time, I don’t want to do it again. I’m not dating anyone, I’m entirely single. I compare her kisses to everyone I’ve ever kissed. Let me go back up there and fix this before it’s too late. I can fix this.”

“Fuck you,” Her words were venomous– a best friend defending her territory– but her tone was a purr; Chris took a startled step back as she prowled towards him. She closed the gap between them quickly though and put her hands on his chest. “C’mon, Evans,” her voice was low, and her hand was dragging across his pecs.

“What the hell, Annie,” he kept walking backward, stumbling over the curb and into the street.

“You can fuck me instead,” she was keeping pace with him; “you can’t have her, I won’t let you near her, but I’ll let you fuck me.”

He threw his hands up in the air as far away from her as possible, “not what I’m here for, Annie, I’m just here for Y/N.”

“I think you just want to get your dick wet, and I can be that for you.”

“I’m out of here,” Chris mumbled, shoving his hands in his pocket and finishing the walk across the street to the other sidewalk. Annie watched him go and he didn’t look back– not at her. He looked back across the street and up at the window that was still lit… the one where the curtain fluttered and he watched a feminine figure disappear into the recesses of the room.

He sat in his room now in Prague picturing that night and the feelings that coursed through him. The residual regret and disgust in himself were present every time he allowed himself to think of that night and how he’d handled it. He stepped out of the shower and toweled off, pulling on sweats and a t-shirt and ordering room service in hopes that some food in his stomach and a beer in his hand would settle his mind to think about what he wanted to say to her tomorrow.

Y/N stared out the window of her room at the bustling city getting ready for a Friday evening. People were going home from work, headed to get drinks, and bringing children home from the park and school. People all around her were going about their business, but she couldn’t.

Chris was down the hall. The last time she’d seen him, it was his retreating form across R Street and down the corner where he’d disappeared and she’d never seen him again. She’d allowed herself to see his movies, and she didn’t run away from his image as she had after the last blow to her ego. She was happy for him and proud of him. She was grateful for those two special nights in Vermont and Boston that had made her feel good. Time had given her perspective to appreciate that they were special moments and to let them be what they were– fun and flirty and nothing more. That night he’d walked out of her apartment in DC had hurt the worst….

Annie charged into Y/N’s apartment, kicking off her heels and finding the girls sitting on Y/N’s kitchen floor eating Bagel Bites and chugging water, giggling over their recap of the night. Annie continued through the apartment to find Y/N curled up on the sofa in sweatpants and a Bucknell sweatshirt she hadn’t seen in ages.

“Y/N… what are you wearing,” Annie sighed, dropping on the sofa next to her and pinching the sweatshirt between her fingers. Y/N shrugged, not responding but tucking in on herself more. Annie saw the puffy eyes and quivering lip. “He’s not worth it.”

“I know.”

“He’s an ass just trying to get some ass.”

“I don’t think he was, Annie, I don’t think I should've pushed him.”

Annie shrugged, propping her feet on the coffee table, “If he can’t handle being challenged then he couldn't handle a relationship.”

“He just wanted so much so fast. He was ready to jump in and be something but earlier tonight…” Y/N trailed off and twisted the sleeve of the sweatshirt in her fingers. It didn’t smell like him anymore, but she hadn’t allowed herself to get rid of it. She’d always intended to give it back to him that night in Boston but she’d left it at Annie’s dorm and then it had all fallen apart. All these years later she kept it tucked in the back of her closet when she wanted to be reminded of him.

Annie huffed, “he just came onto me, Y/N. Forget him.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “what?”

“Yeah, he just asked me to go home with him. He did it when he kept calling me in Boston too. I had to chase him into the street and tell him off!” She rolled her eyes, “he’s a pig.”

Tears started to stream down Y/N’s face again, “I can’t believe he’d do that.”

Annie shrugged, “do you want some Bagel Bites? I’m going to get some before they’re all gone.”

Y/N shook her head and got up off the sofa, retreating to her bedroom. Her friends had stayed the night, taking up spaces on the sofa, and Annie eventually came in to share Y/N’s bed. Everyone had gone home the next morning hungover and talking about going out that night, but Y/N had crawled back to her bed after she locked the door behind her and cried.

Annie would’ve teased her, but Y/N had always believed in love at first sight because of Chris. She’d never admitted that the feeling she got when she first giggled at him in the lift line– when he was blushing madly and they couldn't stop making eye contact– was a feeling she’d been chasing her entire life. No one had made her feel that again. She’d only ever felt it again twice more: the night in Boston while he touched her and kissed her and for a fleeting moment last night when he’d slid into the cab next to her– when she realized this might actually work out.

Over greasy McDonald’s breakfast (the perfect hangover cure), Annie had gone on and on about Chris, despite the looks Sasha and Jenna kept throwing at her when they saw tears welling in Y/N’s eyes. She’d finally relayed the story about their meetup in Boston, when he’d claimed it was to get Y/N’s number and talked to her but, according to Annie, he’d hit on her the whole time. She said the same thing happened in the street outside last night– that Chris had said he was waiting to take her home and that Y/N was far better off without that sleazy fuckboy.

On the way to the elevators, Y/N glanced at Chris’s door, hoping that fate would call him out to the hallway; when she sensed no movement behind it, she continued to the elevator and then the lobby where Rachel dragged her into the bustling streets and to a restaurant she’d had recommended to her by one of the bartenders.

Dinner was easy enough; Rachel relentlessly pried Y/N for details about how she knew the stupidly handsome Chris Evans well enough to leave them both speechless. Y/N dodged the questions for a while as Rachel continued to top off her wine and eventually, the story tumbled out of her. She couldn’t stop herself; she needed someone to talk to– her feelings were too raw and emotional– she started in Killington and ended in the hallway, filling in as many gaps between as Rachel listened carefully and responded, to Y/N’s surprise, supportively.

“Sounds like you’d be stupid not to give him a chance again. It seems like the universe is telling you that you have to.” Y/N finished the last medovnik and dropped her fork while Rachel continued. “I’ve only ever been in love once, and I didn’t feel half as excited to see her as you do when you talk about Chris.”

“I don’t know if I’m in love with him, I hardly know him,” she sat back in her seat, tossing her crumpled napkin on the table next to her dessert. “And I just… I can’t…” She kept dropping her sentence while avoiding eye contact with Rachel.

Like a good therapist, Rachel caught onto the deflection and pounced; “Sounds like you’ve got more on your mind.”

“I do.”

“Spill,” she leaned forward and propped her chin in her hands, “I have the company card to buy dinner and I’m not paying until you get it all out.”

“I can’t get past the Annie part.”

“That he hit on her?”

Y/N nodded, “I just can’t stop thinking about that– that he’d claimed he wanted me but would then go hit on Annie and try to take her home– twice.”

Rachel was quiet for a moment, “did you talk to Annie about it?”

“Yeah, but she always blew it off and called him names before she changed the subject.”

“Talk to her again, it’s been years now, see if she’ll talk about it. She was probably embarrassed or ashamed that she might’ve shown interest when you were clearly involved.”

Y/N paused, playing with the tablecloth, “We’re not really friends anymore.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up, “oh? Why’s that?”

“We had a falling out about six months after that night with Chris.” Rachel was silent as she let Y/N gather her thoughts and continue.

“She slept with my boyfriend.”

“Come again.”

Y/N nodded, “I met this guy Brandon pretty soon after the whole thing with Chris happened. I liked him, he wasn’t going to be the one but we had fun. We all went to a Halloween party, I got too drunk and my friends took me home. The next morning I went to Annie’s to return the shoes I’d worn out… and Brandon was leaving. We ran into each other on the street, he came clean immediately and was at least decent enough to be apologetic before I obviously ended things. I went up to confront Annie and she lied to my face. I walked out and never went back. I took the shoes with me.”

Rachel didn’t say anything for several long heartbeats before she said, “so you’re telling me that she slept with your boyfriend and lied to you and you’re concerned about what happened with her and Chris?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, you know what happened with them.”

“Huh?”

“Sweetie, you’re smart. Nothing happened with her and Chris. She lied to you then too.”

“I don’t know, Rachel, before that night with Brandon she was my closest friend in the world, why would she have made that up?”

Rachel rolled her eyes but said nothing, flagging down the waiter for the check. They walked back to the hotel with Rachel running her mouth again, although this time, Y/N had more patience for it; it had been a while since she had someone she could talk to…

“I’m going to head to the bar for a nightcap,” Rachel said over her shoulder as she marched away, leaving Y/N at the elevators. “Good luck!”

Y/N spun her ring on her finger while she waited for the car to arrive and rode up alone and in silence to the seventh floor. She made her way slowly down the hallway, pausing again outside his door and hearing the low hum of the television from inside. She hesitated, raising her hand to knock before dropping it and scurrying to her room.

Once inside, she plopped on the bed and continued to play with her ring, twisting it over and over again while her mind coursed through every single second she’d ever spent in Chris’s presence.

In total, it was less than 48 hours.

What was she thinking, throwing around words like love and soulmates for someone she hardly knew? She knew him better from his IMDB profile than she knew him. This was just lust, right? It had to be just lust. Just wanting something she’d never had.

And yet…

She knew what it was like to see his passion spark when he talked about something or someone he loved. That hadn’t changed in any of the moments they spent together.

She knew what it was like to see him look deeply into her eyes and listen to her bare her soul about her fears of failure, her secret hopes to help those who couldn’t help themselves and never ever laugh at her.

She knew what it was like to feel the weight of his hand on her waist bring comfort and solace, even when her anxiety was spiking.

She knew what it was like to watch those blue eyes take in her lips and watch her carefully before he kissed her.

This couldn’t just be lust.

She groaned loudly and forced herself off the bed and into the bathroom to change into her soft, mauve pajamas. She washed the makeup off her face and brushed the wine out of her mouth, swishing the water around and trying to concentrate on the feeling of the water in her mouth, the mint on her tongue… anything to keep her mind off the mountain of muscle down the hall.

Chris had sworn that he’d heard someone slow to a stop outside his door. He could’ve sworn he saw the shadow of two thin, lovely legs and the sound of hurried breathing before a quick rustle of feet on the carpet moving quickly away.

Then again, he was positive he’d heard someone outside his door every 15 minutes for the last three hours. The first four times he’d gotten up off the bed and checked the peephole. The fifth time it had startled him because it was actually room service. The sixth time, and every time after that, he forced himself to stay sprawled on the bed munching french fries and trying to pay attention to Big Bang Theory reruns.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus on Leonard and Penny, and Sheldon. He couldn’t keep his attention on their chaos and silly drama. All he could think about was Y/N. She was in the same city once again and he was bound and determined to make tomorrow morning the most important date she’d ever been on. He yanked his phone out to look up restaurants when he saw a text.

Scott: you dead? i havent heard from you all week Chris: basically Chris: you’re never going to guess who’s down the hall right now Scott replied quickly: Cher Chris: lol nope… Scott: … Madonna? Chris: … Y/N

Chris’s phone rang immediately and he picked up quickly, “what the fuck, have you talked to her?”

“I’m taking her to breakfast tomorrow.”

“Where? You know it has to be perfect. Was she mad? How did she seem? Did she hug you? TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

Chris laughed, shifting off the bed to his laptop to continue looking for breakfast choices, “she was nervous but she didn’t turn me down on the spot.”

“Christopher Robert, I may have broken her ankle but if you break this girl’s heart one more time, I’m going to break your face. Do you know how many shitty stadium hot dogs I had to eat while you pined for her? Do you know what an idiot you were in DC? Do you know how much I’d love to throat punch you for taking so goddamn long to fix this?”

Chris laughed before sucking in a breath and letting the pause linger; he quietly said, “what if I can’t fix it? What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Then you close the door on it for good, but you’ve always wondered. After you were a complete fool in DC you’ve never dated the same way. You’ve held everyone at arm’s length.”

Chris was quiet, thinking about Scott’s answer. Scott continued to talk; he’d opened his own laptop and was Googling from his apartment in LA, offering suggestions and reading menus out loud while Chris did the same.

He didn’t hear the knock the first time over Scott’s ranting about not being invited to Prague and therefore not being there to help Chris win Y/N back.

At the sound of the second knock, Chris froze and went silent. “Shut up,” he told his brother, refusing to move from the desk… he refused to believe it was real. No one was knocking at 10 pm.

A heavy sigh on the other side of the door made Chris’s gaze yank quickly away from his computer screen and to the crack between the carpet and the door: a shadow.

The shadow shuffled and he heard a quiet, “this is stupid,” before it disappeared.

Chris launched out of the desk chair and across the room, dropping his phone on the desk with his brother’s shouting, “WHAT IS HAPPENING,” into the earpiece. Chris yanked open the door and charged into the hallway.

She was retreating to her room, clad in all pink, her hair piled on her head, and in just socks.

Chris had enough forethought to pull the latch through the door to keep it from locking behind him and he took three large steps to come face-to-face with Y/N.

“I couldn't wait until morning,” she said quietly, her hands twisting in front of her.

He grabbed her hands to still them, pulling them around his neck and dipped his lips to kiss her.

Taglist: @bellaireland1981 @before-we-get-started @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @elrw24 @maylaysia109 @royalwritersoftheuniversesverses

#chrisevans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #cevans #christopher robert evans #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans series #chris evans x female reader

93 notes · View notes

gennyanydots · 1 year

Text

Show me the way home, honey Ch. 23

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader soulmate!au

Show me the way home, honey masterlist

The best part of your day on the weekend is waking up next to Bradley. Getting to lay in bed with him all snuggled up was so nice. Sadly that isn’t what happened this morning. Your best friend woke you up by jumping on your bed.

Bradley had decided that you both should follow all those silly wedding traditions, including not seeing each other the night before the wedding and then not seeing each other until the wedding. You pouted about it but he didn’t budge on it.

Not only did you not wake up next to Bradley but you weren’t even at your own house! You stayed the night at your best friend’s house and Bradley and his buddies were all at the Bungalow. You pouted even harder about that because you sleep like shit anywhere but home but you still let him have the house for the night, it was his technically after all.

To top it all off you had to wake up early. Way too early. The wedding wasn’t until late this afternoon but for some reason you still had to wake up around 7? This is bullshit. You’re gonna be sleepy and grumpy all day. You just know it.

Yes today is supposed to be the happiest day of your life but like why couldn’t it have started at 11? Or better yet 2? This whole wedding timeline thing is silly. Damn the sun for setting at an inconvenient time. The wedding starts at 4:15 since the sun will set around 4:45. The pictures will end up being gorgeous but still. So sleepy.

It’s going to be a fake it till you make it kind of day and you’ll just have to ignore your own grumpiness. You don’t want anyone thinking you’re some kind of Bridezilla. You’re definitely not. You’re just a toddler when it comes to sleep. And food. Bradley has started keeping granola bars in the Bronco in case you start having an attitude with him and your attitude magically stops as soon as you have something in your belly.

So here you are at 8 am trying really hard not to scream at your best friend for being an annoying little shit and jumping on your bed. Bradley always wakes you with soft kisses. You miss him. You immediately grab your phone and text him that. And to complain about how you were woken up. You throw your phone down on the bed and roll out and grab your shower things and head into the bathroom. You make quick work of your shower and soon you’re sitting at the kitchen table happily eating a bagel doing a little happy wiggle as you eat. If you HAVE to wake up you’re glad you at least got a yummy bagel.

Your best friend starts the rundown of your day. Next is hair at 9:30. Then makeup at 11. Then off to the Hard Deck to finish getting ready. Then pictures. Then the wedding. Then more pictures. Then the reception. Then hopefully going to sleep in Brad Brad’s arms.

Your mom and sister arrived shortly after you started to get your hair done. All of your bridesmaids arrived soon after that and it was a whirlwind of everyone getting ready together and having fun. Champagne was freely flowing and the music was loud. Maybe you wouldn’t be a grump all day.

Soon you were off to the Hard Deck. This is definitely the most dressed up you’ve ever been going to the Hard Deck.

Penny had a back area where the staff keep their things that she set up nicely for you for the wedding. You had rented a big tent off to the side of the bar for the guys to get ready and hang out in.

You had taken lots of pictures with everyone so far and now you were just waiting a little while before the first look. You decided to keep with the tradition and not see Brad Brad before the wedding and instead decided to do a first look with your dad. You did however tell the photographer to take a picture of Bradley’s face when he first sees you. You don’t want him to cry but at the same time you hope he cries.

Your best friend comes running into the room giggling and you look at her funny, “Where were you?”

“Delivering your gift!” She says excitedly and you blush immediately.

“You didn’t tell me!” You say back.

“And let you back out? No way! He loves it by the way,” she says teasingly.

“Shut up!” You whisper yell to her. “Did you ask him?”

“Oh I could just tell…..” she says then giggles.

—————————————

Bradley and his friends were out in the tent waiting for instruction from the wedding planner. He knew there was still some more pictures to take. Today there always seemed to be more pictures to take. Not that he minded too much. He was excited to be able to relive this as much as possible. It’s one of the best days he’s ever had. Take a few pictures between drinking beer with his friends? No problem. Plus by the end of the day he’ll have his very own wife. He’s very excited about that.

He’s playing on his phone, trying hard not to bug his future wife, when he hears some of his friends talking at the entrance to the tent. He stands up and goes over and sees your best friend holding a small box.

“Hey Brad Brad! I brought you a present from your wifey,” she says with a smile that seems to be just a bit off to him.

“Oh okay,” he says taking it and looking it over. Nothing looks off about it but he doesn’t completely trust that look that your best friend was giving him. She’s still eagerly watching him as he looks over the box.

“Well aren’t you going to open it?” She says excitedly.

“Yeah I can do that I guess,” Bradley says and starts to unwrap the present.

Under the paper is just a slim plain brown box. He looks up and your best friend is grinning at him and nodding her head. He looks down at the box and opens the lid leading to a plain black book. Still nothing suspicious. He pulls the book out and turns it over. He sets the box down on a nearby table and opens the book. Inside in your handwriting reads, “For the times when you miss me in the future.” Well that’s sweet of you to get him something when he misses you. He turns to the first page and there’s a picture of you smiling. Holding the uniform jacket that he’s wearing right now in front of your mostly naked body in one hand and pushing your hair up in the other. Holy shit. He turns the page. Another picture of you in a cute little white babydoll nightie laying back on a bed winking at the camera. Is he dead? Bradley is pretty sure he’s dead and gone to heaven. The next picture is a posed picture of you unlatching your bra. Yep. He’s dead. He has to be at least brain dead. There’s definitely no blood left in his brain. It all went south. The next picture you have the jacket on and your pushing your boobs up but tastefully not letting anything show directly. Thank god he’s been keeping this book close to himself so nobody can see. The next picture is just one of you laying on a bed in heels from behind so all he can see is your ass. This is the best present he’s ever gotten. The final page is an artsy black and white photo. Well it would be artsy if it wasn’t a picture of you arching your back off the bed biting your bottom lip and holding your breasts in your hands so your nipples are covered. Okay. Fuck not seeing each other before the wedding. He needs to fuck you. Now. Right now. Immediately. He shuts the book and starts towards the opening in the tent and your best friend puts out her hand.

“Hey there slow your roll, Brad Brad,” she says as she blocks his exit.

“I gotta go,” he says and takes another step.

“No can do,” she says shaking her head. “You have an hour until the wedding. She has first look with her dad soon and then you need to be in position ready to go. Guests are arriving. You cannot fuck her right now.”

“But the pictures!” Bradley says with a whine.

“Yeah I know. I was there. It was hot,” she says with a chuckle. “But still no. Go into the bathroom. Take care of that. Will it away. I don’t know. Just get your dick under control. It’s almost go time. You can fuck her later. I promise.”

He huffs and nods. Fine. He’ll fuck you later. He watches as your best friend heads back inside and he groans.

“What’s up, Roo?” Bob asks him coming yo to stand in front of him.

“I just got the best present in the world and I can’t properly thank my wife for it yet,” Bradley explains sighing.

“Well not long now before you’re married to her and can thank her as much as you want,” Bob says chuckling having a vague idea of what Bradley got. Phoenix may have bragged about her own wife’s pictures to Bob earlier this week.

“But I wanna do that nowwwww,” Bradley says whining.

“In front of her dad? That’s weird, Rooster,” Fanboy says laughing.

Bradley grumbles and crosses his arms then grabs his new book and puts it in his backpack for safe keeping. Nobody gets to see his wife like that but him.

———————————

It was time for first look with your dad and oddly you’re more nervous for him to see you than Bradley. Maybe because Bradley will for sure have a fantastic reaction to you all dressed up.

When your dad turns around in the bar he instantly has tears in his eyes and he’s rushing over to hug you. You clearly had nothing to be worried about. Your eyes start to water as he kisses your cheek and tells you how beautiful you look. Your mom soon joins you both and it turns into a big group hug, both your parents telling you how proud of you they are and how happy they are to see you with Bradley. They say they couldn’t hav me chosen a better man to love you and you know it’s true. There’s nobody else in the world more perfect than Bradley. Clearly the universe knows what it’s doing with the whole soulmate thing.

You hear your sister call your name and you turn around wiping some tears from your eyes. You notice she’s holding a gift bag.

“What’s that?” You ask.

“Your husband to be got you a little something,” she says with a giggle and walks over and hands it to you.

You smile and open it pulling out a white bag. You turn it over and it’s a white loungefly backpack with a bow that has a tiny veil and two rings. That man really is perfect.

“Should I carry this instead of my bouquet?” You ask jokingly and your mom playfully smacks your arm.

“Absolutely not. That would be silly. Walk into the reception with it on obviously,” your mom says.

You laugh, “Great idea!”

Just then you hear your wedding planner call your name. You look up and she quickly explains that it’s time. You nod and look at your family who are all smiles.

“Okay let’s go get you married!” Your best friend says coming out of the back room with your other bridesmaids and you laugh.

AN: why are the pictures so specific? Because they definitely do not exist in real life but with an army jacket instead. Definitely not real.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster soulmate!au #show me the way home honey #rooster x female reader

114 notes · View notes

purpleturtle9000 · 10 months

Text

do Echo and Lee technically count as a third pair of disaster twins

They don't mind that Echo's quiet, because there's enough going on in their own mind without adding someone else's thoughts to it. They can come close to getting lost in themself, sometimes, but Echo's always there to draw them back out again. With a comic or movie, or in some cases, a grenade stolen from Tello.

Well, they can't say their life is boring.

"Could throw it back at Tello," they suggest. There's a vent near the desk in the lab, for when things get caught on fire and need to be aired out, and they know from experience that they can fit small objects through it.

There was, after all, The Incident Of The Crab. Not the blue one that Heiwa is bonded with, but a regular one from the store. Tello screamed hysterically and somehow ended up sideways through the window with their goggles off.

Leonardo laughed so hard he started crying. Despite the fact that they were then grounded for the Tello torture, Lee considered it all worth it.

They're pretty sure that they can avoid getting in trouble for this one, though. Pep likes candy corn, and Echo 'accidentally' 'borrows' things all the time. And equally important, Tello comes running whenever they think that Pep is distressed.

Why Tello insists they're not a parent to Pep, Lee doesn't know, but its not their business. They just like the opportunities it presents.

I'll give you a six-ounce box of candy corn if you keep Tello out of their lab for five minutes, they text Pep.

Leonardo complains sometimes about how even the young blues have phones, but it's the easiest way for them to all stay in touch. And it's easier for Tello to track them, when they run off to do 'some weird shit'.

There's no response to their text, but a minute later, they hear Pep wailing like he's been abandoned. Perfect.

The door to Tello's lab slams open not ten seconds later, and they rush past without looking at Lee or Echo once. They might not have even noticed the two of them there.

Lee outlines their plan, and Echo goes along with it, like he always does. He'll be doing the work, since Lee makes a much better lookout. They learned that the hard way, from the two times they got busted because Echo just skedaddled instead of warning them.

They're a long ways from the lab by the time Pep stops crying. One of the nice things about Tello is that they're completely unable to tell when the crying is fake, and are worried regardless. Very convenient.

Pep shows up to collect his candy and disappears with both the promised reward, and a warning not to go into Tello's lab until he hears something explode. He seems vaguely disapproving but says nothing to get them to stop. Why interfere with free candy?

For better or worse, Lee's half-forgotten about the grenade by the time there's an explosion and a shriek in short order. Oh, right. They convinced Echo to blow something up. It's surprisingly easy to do.

"Think we're gonna get in trouble for that if they catch us?" they ask.

They can't see anything of Echo, just the several blankets he's been wrapped up in for twenty minutes, but they can hear a snort of laughter.

"Trouble if they catch us," Echo agrees.

Which probably means they should be running right about now, but it's not like Tello is actually going to do anything. The only thing faster than an angry nerd is a protective brother, namely Alpha.

Besides, Echo is half asleep already, curled up against their plastron with his head tucked under their chin. He likes being held - needs it, really - and Lee never minds being the one to hold him.

Who else could he trust? No one else has been through what they have. Leonardo comes close to making them a trio, but he was only in his prison dimension for a few minutes. Lee was there for days, and Echo, a full year. And Leonardo hasn't lost nearly as much as them.

They lost one twin, and found another. Echo doesn't make up for their three dead brothers, but he doesn't try to. It would be worse if he did, Lee thinks. But as it is...

Losing their first twin hurt. Being with this one doesn't.

It's the only simple thing in their lives, and somehow, Lee's okay with that.

#fic: reality check #reality check echo #reality check lee #ficlet #rottmnt

6 notes · View notes

aparticularbandit · 4 months

Text

For Fake: Chapter Six

Summary: America lied about having a girlfriend to get her moms off her back, but when they want to meet said girlfriend, she asks her good friend Viv to step in and help.

Viv Vision/America Chavez

Chapter Rating: G. Fic Rating: T.

AO3

previous chapter / next chapter

punchesstars: hey punchesstars: u wanna come over punchesstars: or hang out punchesstars: or something

punchesstars: joey did the thing! punchesstars: new america food 4 u! punchesstars: u should try it!

punchesstars: viv punchesstars: hey viv punchesstars: u there?

punchesstars: u ignoring me?

punchesstars: viv??????

It shouldn’t feel like a break up.

Technically speaking, it isn’t a break up.

(That’s Viv speak – technically speaking – because America’s not one to actually care about the technicalities of anything. She just knows that, like, “technically speaking” is a thing, definitely, but, like. She doesn’t talk like that. Only the eggheads talk like that. You know. Amadeus. Riri. Viv.

Agatha, sometimes, when she’s in one of her moods, but you did not hear that from America, got it?)

So, like, yeah, it isn’t a break up. They haven’t even officially broken up! Or, uh, fake? broken up? However you word that. Viv would know. They haven’t broken up their fake relationship. Officially. Or whatever. But it still hurts when Viv just goes radio silent for no apparent reason.

Okay, so, like, sure, maybe there is a reason, and maybe it’s because her dad wasn’t supposed to find out, but, like, America didn’t know anything about that! How was she supposed to know? It’s not like her moms told her they were coming over, which is honestly kind of rude and she should totally have a talk with them about it. She just. doesn’t want to? Her moms can be pretty tough when they want to be, and she can’t see that conversation going the way she wants, and it would just end with everyone being all upset, and she doesn’t feel like being more upset than she already is.

Because America is upset.

She’s upset with Viv.

For not texting her back!

For ignoring her!

She didn’t do anything wrong!

Other than lying to her moms about having a girlfriend and then asking Viv to be that fake girlfriend under false pretenses which no one knows about, she’s not talking about it, she’s totally keeping those to herself, thank you very much and then maybe getting a little too deep into this whole thing because maybe it would actually be nice if Viv was her girlfriend.

Maybe.

A little bit.

But you didn’t hear that from her either, and you better not be repeating it around anywhere, because she absolutely will find you and punch you in the nards!

…or something.

So here’s the thing: America’s never really been to Viv’s house before. She knows where it is, obviously, but Viv’s kind of a private person. She likes gaming and games and, uh, privacy. And not having a bunch of people at her house. Or maybe that’s more Vision; he’s always given America major intimidation vibes, and she’s never wanted to go when he’s having, like, an off day, or something like that. And it’s not like Viv gave her an open invitation or anything like that.

So she’s never gone over. Never really had any reason to.

Until today.

America knocks on the door a little too hard and a little too much and then steps back and shoves her hands into her jean jacket pockets and scuffs her shoe on the doorstep and stares at the bright welcome mat that tells her maybe she isn’t the only one who never comes to see Viv or Vision. She nudges the mat with her shoe enough to find that there isn’t a spare key under it, which doesn’t surprise her at all; Viv and her dad seem like the types who would have some sort of electronic key, something smarter than just a keypad with passwords in it, something so smart she can’t even think of it.

But when it takes an awful long time for anything to happen at the door at all, America starts scrounging around. Definitely, Viv and her dad probably have some sort of complicated way of opening the door, but even more importantly, they also definitely have a camera somewhere. Probably somewhere super inconspicuous, where no one can even possibly imagine—

Nope.

There it is.

Found it.

Right in the top right corner. Where most people put their cameras.

Okay, maybe most of them don’t put them in the top right corner, but they usually have them in some corner, and it’s usually in addition to the one that sits in their electronic doorbell. Which. Maybe America should have used the doorbell instead, come to think of it. Oh, well.

America looks up into the camera – the one she can see; there’s probably a gazillion other ones she can’t see – and waves. “Yo. Uh. Mr. Vision? Or Viv? Or someone? Can you, uh. Can one of you open the door?” She leans up on her tiptoes. “See, Viv’s my girlfriend and everything, and she’s been ignoring my texts, which is kind of like avoiding my phone calls, and I thought it’d be a good idea to come and check on—”

The door flies open, and Viv grabs America around the waist and pulls her through.

“Oh, hey, Viv—”

“Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup—” Viv shakes America violently as the momentum she’d used to open the door causes it to bounce off the outside wall and slam itself shut. “My dad listens to those, he’ll hear all of that, he doesn’t know I’ve been—”

“What, ignoring me?” There’s only so long America can vibe with the being violently shaken by her synthezoid not-girlfriend before she starts to feel nauseous. You’d think that jumping through all of those portals into other universes would get her used to this sort of thing, but that’s not true. Multiverse hopping is an entire other sort of thing. Like teleportation. And roller coasters. “C-C-C-Can you s-s-s-stop with the…the…the—”

Viv stops. She drops her hands from America’s shoulders. Wraps one arm around herself and looks away from America. “Sorry.”

“Thanks.” America rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. She looks around the front room – the living room – and finds that it looks…normal. It’s just a normal living room. Normal couch. Normal coffee table. Normal place for all the television stuff. Normal television – not even a super big one, just, you know, an average-sized television. Maybe even a little smaller than hers. “Wow,” she says, turning back to Viv. “Your house is, uh—”

“Aggressively normal?” Viv completes for her with a huff of a chuckle. “Father would like people to believe that we are just the same as they are. He hid most of the gifts in the basement.”

America blinks. “Gifts?” She turns to Viv with a half-grin. “What sort of gifts?”

Viv shakes her head. “Nothing. There is nothing in the basement.” She keeps looking away from America, refusing to meet her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“You stopped answering my texts.” America crosses over to the couch and slumps down into it. Then she scowls. For all that the couch looks normal, it isn’t comfortable. “It’s been, like, days, Viv.” She presses down on the cushions a few times. “And your couch is kind of shitty.”

Viv shrugs. “Father did not ask for the help of a human before buying the couch. It is only for appearances. We do not use it.” She sits on the opposite side of the couch but shows no signs of discomfort. “I do not sense a problem.”

“Ugh.” America makes a disgusted expression by curling her lip. “Your bed isn’t like that, right? Your bed’s pretty soft?”

“Is that a normal question?” Viv should be looking at America when she asks that question. She should be tilting her head to one side, confused and concerned and intrigued. But she isn’t. She’s just staring at her hands where they’re clasped in her lap.

This is wrong. Something’s wrong.

And America doesn’t know what it is.

“I…I guess not.” America’s brow furrows. She presses her lips together. “Hey, uh, Viv? You know you can tell me anything, right? Like, maybe not….” She cuts herself off. “No, anything. You can tell me anything. Really. I won’t, like, go anywhere or anything.” Without a second thought, she reaches over to place her hand over both of Viv’s. She hesitates, when she realizes what she’s doing, but then goes through with it anyway.

Viv’s hands are colder than normal. She shouldn’t be able to realize that, but she does.

“I think we should break up,” Viv says, still not looking at America, still gazing down at her lap. It’s as though America’s hand being there doesn’t mean anything, hasn’t done anything. She nods to herself once then repeats herself, “I think we should break up.”

“Uh. Okay? Sure?” America doesn’t know what’s going on. “I mean, we were always going to break up ‘cause we weren’t really together, so, like, that’s. That’s fine.” She won’t say it doesn’t hurt, but, like, she’s not going to push Viv into a relationship she doesn’t want. All those fake dating tropes are fine in movies and stories and everything, but she probably shouldn’t have expected to actually work in, like, the real world. “But you’ve still been ignoring me—”

“I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” Viv continues. She still doesn’t look up.

It takes a moment for America to process that. “You think we should…huh?”

“I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” Viv repeats. If anything, her voice has gotten more monotone. Then she unhooks the rainbow necklace America gave her and sets it on the couch between them. “And I think you should take this back.”

America stares at the necklace. She had it a long time before giving it to Viv; it was one of the first things she bought on one the very first universe where she’d been able to have money. After food, it probably was the first. It’d been a reminder to herself. It’d given her hope.

But she doesn’t need it anymore. She’s here now, with a new family who are helping her learn how to use her powers so maybe, someday, she’ll be able to get out there and find her moms. Her first moms. (Sometimes she thinks of them as her real moms, but Wanda and Agatha – they’re her real moms, too. It’s a complicated thing.)

“No.” America shakes her head, leaving the necklace between them. “I gave you that. Keep it.” She reaches into her pockets and finds the rainbow gloves Viv gave her. “But if, uh. If we’re returning stuff, I guess I should give you these? Yeah?” She sets them down on the couch just next to the necklace.

Viv doesn’t say anything.

That’s the most frustrating thing of all – that Viv won’t say anything, and she’s actually here, and Viv could say something if she wanted. But she won’t.

America stands. She brushes off the front of her jeans. Bites her lower lip. “I guess I should, uh. I should go?”

Viv nods.

America wants to say something. She wants to take Viv’s shoulders and shake her, just the same way Viv shook her earlier, wants to make Viv explain all of this to her. But that won’t do any good. She knows it won’t. Still. “Look, uh. I know you’re mad at me or…or something, but I don’t know what I did, and I’d really like to know what it is so that I don’t do it again.” She shoves her hands in her pockets and glances down at her worn out old shoes. “Even if we’re not, uh. If we’re not talking, you should. Text me about that, I guess.”

Please.

Viv doesn’t let herself look after America as her friend leaves. It’s enough to just sit here and have the conversation at all. She’s had her emotional core shut off for so long that all of the feelings – hers, America’s, all of them – are so overwhelming that she can barely breathe. She doesn’t need to breathe, but she should. For appearance’s sake.

After America leaves, Viv picks up the necklace. She stares at it for a few moments. Then she shoves it into her pocket along with her gloves and heads to the basement.

(She will never say it to him, but sometimes living in the basement with everything else her father has hidden makes her wonder if her continued existence causes him just as much pain as the things he’d used to decorate their house when the rest of their family was alive.)

Sparky sniffs at her hands as Viv walks down the stairs, and she runs her hands through his fur. When she gets into bed, he curls up with her, just against her chest. She wonders about it then, pressing her hand into her mattress. Is my bed soft? She’s never really thought about it all that much. She hadn’t liked it, when she was human, but she hadn’t ever considered it might be something she could change.

Maybe that’s something she can look into. In the future.

Yeah. In the future.

2 notes · View notes