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iamacolor · 2 years

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Since you've watched a lot more kdramas than me (believe me when I say that), I'd love to know what you think of kpop idols going the acting route. It's a trend that has been going on for years now and we've witnessed a lot of idols choosing to be actors/actresses once their contract ended. What were your favourite and least favourite performances if you have any? Oh, and did you ever feel like an idol was cast just for their popularity and not their talent (in acting I mean) and in result, the performance was not stellar? Sorry for this but seeing your tags under all those tomorrow posts made me wonder about this topic. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to.

hi anon!! those are good questions and i don't mind answering once bit, don't worry! but it might get long...

first of all i have to say that i started watching kdramas before i ever listened to a kpop song or knew a kpop group's name (it was around late 2018) and so i just watched dramas that i had seen people talk about on my dash or that were on those "kdramas to watch" lists based on the synopsis and so i knew nothing about idols turned actors or who some of the people on my screen were. which means i watched a lot of people act and enjoyed them without ever knowing they were idols in the first place. i only discovered that it was a topic of conversation when i really got more into kpop months later lol and so by then i couldn't really understand why some people were so against it (especially since it's not like all actors who never were idols are great actors anyway)

so i watched astro's eunwoo in my id is gangnam beauty, 2pm's junho in just between lovers, ze:a's hyunsik in strong woman do bong soon, girl'sday's hyeri in reply 1988, cnblue's minhyuk in hospital ship, infinite's myungsoo in miss hammurabi...and some more having no idea that they were idols and although i wouldn't put all of their performances on the same levels (which would be hard to do anyway because all of these shows are very different in ranges and genres) none of them stood out to me as "omg that one can not act at all what are they even doing here"

and even after i started to know more about kpop, there are many groups i don't know, especially older kpop groups, i don't always recognise when an idol is on screen (run on is one of my fave dramas, the male lead ki songyeom is one of my fave male lead ever and im siwan gave a stellar performance and i had no idea he was also an idol - same group as hyunsik actually- in the same show there's sooyoung from snsd who plays the second female lead and who was brilliant at it and again i had no idea she was an idol!) - i watched forecasting love and weather and the secondary female lead was an idol (in girl's day i think) and i found that through watching an interview almost at the end of the show lol - i watched vincenzo and the big vilain is taecyeon from 2pm and i had no idea and same for lee joon from mblaq when i watched my father is strange - but again i was never wondering what these people were doing there and i think they all did a great job!

i've now reached the point where i know enough kpop groups to watch a show knowing when a main character is an idol and they still impress me with their acting when i see it for the first time (jinyoung in the devil judge is amazing, sejeong in business proposal is so good at comedy what a dreamgirl, sungjae is perfect in mystic pop up bar both endearing and emotional, rowoon in extraordinary you did so well despite his character starting off with having no lines and no name, or krystal in crazy love shined when she got to unleash her character's anger and kyungsoo in swing kids ripped my heart out)

so honestly i've seen more idols-turned actors who can act very well and just register as actors to me when i watch a drama than ones who supposedly have nothing to do with acting. also it's important to note that a kpop idol's career as a full-time idol rarely lasts more than a few years (even if they've had success like f(x) was a very successful girls group and yet they're all doing different things now and haven't been active for years) and so when someone's done with a job before even turning 30 i think it's perfectly normal for them to turn into another one that also allows them to perform and be part of the entertainment industry they first started out in so it feels kind of natural if they're good enough at it (especially since most of them aren't deeply involved in their music's production so it's not like they could go to work as a songwriter instead for example even if they might want to) and for the ones like eunwoo or rowoon who act alongside their ongoing idol's career it's usually because they start off to attract more attention to their group (this is how i discovered astro thanks to eunwoo's acting and now i love the group) and then become popular enough to make a name for themselves which allows them a certain stability knowing that if their group disband or fail they have their own acting career to rely on which i personnally think is smart (although in some case i feel like it's a the detriment of their idol's career because they don't really have the time to actually be an idol - especially rowoon). an idol's job is often just to be pretty and do the choreography assigned to them which is very reducing and i think it's cool that some of them get to explore more of their own artistry by acting and getting to stand on their own and some of them have gone on to become absolutely amazing actors recognised rightfully by acting awards and such

i've noticed that a lot of idols nowadays (especially from groups that aren't super popular) go into acting in webdramas where the production and directing quality is usually very different from tv dramas and so of course they don't really shine by their acting because they often have to be a bit more stereotypical to fit into the short time and the genre - and i think for a lot of these webdramas casting an idol is usually to ensure a certain amount of view based on their fandom's size - but it's also a first step for some of them into acting so that they can then move on to a few secondary roles in dramas and maybe one day more but usually these aren't characters that require nuanced acting (like seunghyub from n.flying has done a few webdramas and has now had a few tertiary roles in dramas - his biggest one being in shooting stars at the moment where most of his character is based on being handsome and sweet or sanha from astro recently played the female lead younger brother in crazy love after being in a few webdramas and he was mainly asked to be cute and tall and funny and he fit that very well but it was far from stellar)

an interesting case of idols being cast because they're idols was the drama imitation which resolved around kpop groups struggling for success and the idols characters were played by actual idols (which was an interesting take since they know the reality of the industry better than anyone) yet the show didn't really let them shine as it just focused on a weird main romance but the male actor can actually act (saw him with an snsd member in love and leashes and he was great) and the side characters weren't given much to do - sf9's hwiyoung was a stoic character which is already his image as an idol so it didn't give him much to challenge himself i feel and the others were mainly there for some background action so again didn't bring anything of value but it's not like the show was great to begin with anyway lol and it flopped - the one who stole the show was chani from sf9 because his story should've been central to the plot but sadly wasn't and so he only had like flashback scenes and a few scenes at the end (interestingly chani was in a very successful drama that i haven't watched - sky castle - but since then he's mainly done webdramas and smaller roles like in imitation or in true beauty where he played the male leads' already dead best friend so again only flashback scenes - and funnily enough chani is a rapper in his group but i've only seen him play singers...)

i've ever watched a show where the main character was an idol and i thought they were awful and never should be actors but a lot of my fave shows have an idol as a lead so i'd say i'm all for it lol especially since it often attracts my attention to a show i might not have heard of of otherwise (i'm soooo thankful rowoon was in tomorrow because it's what made me read the synopsis and pay attention to the show before it was even out and where would i be now without joongryeon) and there are now several idols i've seen in mutliple dramas and always enjoyed their acting (especially since you can often see them get better as they act more and with more talented actors) like eunwoo, sooyoung, junho, rowoon, hyunsik...

also as you can tell i’ve watched a lot of dramas so i have no troubles believing i might have watched more than you haha

#ok i'll end it here before it gets any longer lol #but if you have any additional thoughts on this don't hesitate to share!#anonymous #i've got mail

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hxwks-gf · 4 years

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*✧･ﾟ:* two little lines

bakugo x fem!reader

summary: surprise! you’re pregnant. wait, that’s not the only surprise...

warnings: pregnancy, descriptions of throwing up, swearing, mentions of alcohol

w/c: 2k

request: I just read your Bakugou gets turned into a kid fic and it was so adorable, especially since he done well knew what he was doing( the brat lol) Anyhow I wanted to request either Bakugou( pro hero of course) reacting to the news that he and his female S/O are having either twins or triplets.

a/n: THANK U FOR SENDING THIS REQUEST IN, ANON!! i loved writing it so much, and soft bakugo is my fav bakugo. enjoy my loves!

“Katsuki, I really don’t feel well,” you said as you came out of the bathroom, wiping the sweat off of your forehead.

Your husband looked up from the piece of his gear he was tinkering with. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve felt really sick to my stomach for a day or two now,” you explained, sitting at the edge of the bed and closing your eyes. You could feel another wave of nausea coming over you at full speed. “Oh, God--” You clapped a hand over your mouth and ran straight to the toilet again, making it just in time before you violently puked the last remains of your breakfast into the porcelain.

“Y/N?” he called from the bedroom. A few seconds later and you heard his bare footsteps on the tile floor. His warm hand placed itself on your forehead and pushed back your sweaty hair. “Hey, let’s get you to the doctor, alright?”

“No,” you moaned into the bowl, “I don’t want to go to the doctor yet, it’s just the stomach flu or something. I just need to rest.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Bakugo growled, squatting beside you. He wrinkled his nose at the contents of the toilet. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll make an appointment tomorrow,” you said, cracking open your teary eyes at him. He had that hard-set look on his face, the don’t-even-try-to-argue-with-me one. You had seen it enough over the last few years of your marriage. “Can you just take me to the store so I can get some medicine?”

“Tch,” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of this apartment in this state.”

“Katsuki.”

He tipped his head back and let loose an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

You held out a hand and he helped you to your feet. He muttered incoherently while you got dressed, something along the lines of “--doesn’t know how to rest--” and “--never listens to me--”. After you were dressed, he at least made you drink some water before driving you to the nearby corner store.

The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes as you perused the aisles with a basket in hand, mindlessly putting cans of soup, stomach medicine, and orange juice into it. Bakugo grumbled to himself a few feet behind you, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“I’ll be right back,” he grunted, and disappeared down the snack aisle, leaving you by yourself near the pharmacy.

As you wandered down the rows and rows of medicine, looking for anything else you might need for the stomach flu, you saw something on display near the counter that made you stop and stare.

“There’s no way,” you murmured, walking up to them and picking one up. You flipped the thin box in your hand and scanned the back for more information. When was the last time you had your period? On a hunch, you dropped the box into your basket and hurried towards the check-out before Bakugo caught up with you again.

The cashier rang you up and bagged your items, and you felt another wave of nausea starting to build in the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, Bakugo rounded the corner empty-handed, and headed straight for you.

“Got everything you need?” he said, guiding you out of the store.

“Mhmm,” you absentmindedly hummed, trying not to think about the little box at the bottom of your bag.

The drive back to the apartment was silent, as was the walk up. Bakugo offered to take your bags but you vehemently denied his help, giving him a string of excuses and making a beeline for the bathroom again.

You locked the door and leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were in a seated position with your knees brought up to your chest. You were scared. The plastic bag was staring at you on the floor, just waiting to be opened. With a trembling sigh, you pulled out the little thin box and opened the pregnancy test.

Two lines. That meant pregnant, right?

You couldn’t tell how long you spent staring at the little stick in your hands, or how many times you had read and re-read the little instruction booklet.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

You licked your lips in anticipation and unlocked the bathroom door. You could hear Bakugo tinkering with his hero gear in the bedroom again.

“You were in there for a while, are you okay--” His sentence was cut short when he looked up at you standing in the doorway, holding the stick in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Katsuki, I’m pregnant.”

The screwdriver he held in his hands fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor. Within seconds he was getting up from the bed and gathering you in his arms, his chin tucking itself in the crook of your neck.

“K-Katsuki?” you said, utterly surprised.

“Are you being serious?” he said, voice muffled in your shoulder.

“Of course I’m being serious.” You gently pulled out of his embrace, but he still kept you close. “Look. Two lines.”

He looked down at the test in your hand. His own fingers reached up and wrapped themselves around it, his brows coming together in the center of his forehead. He stared at it so intensely without saying a word, you were concerned he had lost some screws.

“Katsuki?” you said again, gently. “What...what are you feeling?”

“I know I've never been good with talking about my emotions,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “But this--this makes me feel like the happiest fucker in the entire world.”

With those words, the gate that held your own emotions in check completely shattered and you fell into a mess of happy sobs, excited laughs, and exhilarated kisses. You’re not sure when it happened, but the two of you ended up kneeling together on the floor, still holding onto the test like your lives depended on it, crying and laughing and kissing. The only other time you had ever seen Bakugo cry was the first time he saw you walk down the aisle at your wedding.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “I really can’t.”

“Pregnant,” you breathed, still in awe. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Listen to me.” Bakugo let go of your hands and cradled your cheeks, looking directly into your eyes. “I love you. You are not going to lift a finger for the next nine months, do you understand me, woman?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Doctor’s office. Tomorrow morning.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re about six weeks along,” the obstetrician explained, pulling on a pair of clean gloves. “Let’s get the ultrasound going so you guys can hear the heartbeat.”

You squeezed Bakugo’s hand excitedly. He sat beside you, watching the doctor’s every single movement like a hawk. She had you lean back and lift up your shirt to expose the little baby bump that was already starting to show.

“Alright,” she said, pushing the scanner over your lubricated belly and watching the fuzzy screen intently. You had no idea what she was looking at, it just looked like big blotches of black and white moving around. “Oh--there we are!”

This time, it was Bakugo that squeezed your hand with excitement. You looked over at him, seeing how focused he was on the little screen.

“Oh, what have we here?”

You whipped your head back to the doctor. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Looks like you’ve got two buns in your oven,” the obstetrician said, pointing to the screen. “See that? Two heartbeats.”

“T-twins?” you gasped, feeling Bakugo’s hand go limp in your grasp. “We’re having twins?”

“Congrats, Mom and Dad,” she said with a grin, clicking off the scanner and cleaning the jelly off of your stomach. “Twins are much more common than you think.” She stood up and stripped off her gloves. “I’ll be right back with some paperwork for the pharmacy and give you two a moment in private.”

As the door closed behind her, you looked at Bakugo. He was still staring at the little ultrasound still visible on the screen, his mouth slack and his eyes wide.

“Honey?” you said, tilting your head. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Twins,” he whispered in awe.

Your face broke into a smile and you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Twins.”

“So, what’s the special occasion?” Kirishima asked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Get your feet off of there,” Bakugo snapped, swatting his friend’s feet. “Christ.”

You chuckled, handing Kaminari and Sero each a beer. “It’s something we’ve been waiting to share with you guys for a couple weeks now.”

“Are you not going to have a drink with us, Y/N?” Mina asked from the couch, holding up her glass of wine.

Bakugo moved to stand beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. It was rare for him to be this affectionate in front of the rest of the group, but you knew he was too excited. They all looked at the two of you with confused and concerned expressions on their faces, waiting for whatever piece of news you had to share.

Mina was quick. “Holy shit, you’re joking!” she squealed before you could say anything, kicking her feet excitedly.

“What are you talking about?” Kirishima said, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “Joking about what--” You could literally see the lightbulb turn on above his head. “Oh, oh! Oh my God, guys! Are you serious?”

“Yep,” you laughed, patting your belly. Bakugo pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear.

“Wait, wait,” Kaminari said, holding up his hands. “I’m lost. What’s going on?”

“C’mon, dude,” Bakugo growled.

Sero’s eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of his skull. “Congratulations, you two! I was wondering when it was going to happen. I almost had a bet going for it.”

“A bet for what?” Kaminari whined.

“Denki,” you said, giving your stomach another exaggerated pat.

“Stomach?”

“Yes,” you encouraged, nodding your head slowly. “And…?

“And...oh, holy shit!”

“There he goes,” Kirishima laughed, patting his friend on the back. He looked back to you and Bakugo with a grin on his face. “That’s amazing. How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?”

“Well,” you started, smiling at Bakugo over your shoulder. “That’s not all of it, exactly.”

Now they were back in the dark again, Mina included. You took a deep breath and felt Bakugo’s arms tighten around you. “We’re having twins.”

“Twins!” Mina screeched, jumping up out of her seat and clobbering you in an excited hug.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Bakugo warned, hostility lacing his words. “Be careful with the mother of my children, alright?”

A surge of warmth spread through you, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Mother of his children. It had a very nice ring to it, and hearing it from his lips only made it that much sweeter. You reached around and tenderly kissed his cheek.

“Whatever you guys need, please let us know,” Kirishima said as he stood up and clapped a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “I mean it. Whatever you need. We’re all here for you.”

“Thank you, guys,” you said, unable to hide the crack in your voice as a lump formed in your throat. Tears came not a second later. “I’m sorry, everything makes me cry nowadays.”

“I don’t envy you there, Bakugo,” Kaminari said with a grin. “But I second what Kirishima said.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking about possible baby names, planning the eventual baby shower, and anything else under the sun that had to do with babies. As you sat on the couch, nestled into Bakugo’s side and casually running a hand over your growing belly, surrounded by friends and loved ones, you knew that no matter what happened, you and Bakugo would be alright.

You had to admite, the idea of having two little miniature Katsukis running around delighted you in a way that would most definitely frighten anyone else.

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFHJKDHFKSDHFKS #MY HEARTTTTT #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo imagine #bakugo fanfic #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo fluff

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wendystales · 3 years

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Memories - lrh (Chapter Three)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Two ※※※※※ Chapter Four

My mother spent the night with me and early in the morning I managed to convince her to go home and sort out her own things. Stephen was supposed to arrive at 8 am and I didn't want her here when that happened, she wouldn't like to see him at all.

“If there's anything I'll call, you can go, really.” I assure her, who goes reluctantly.

The clock struck five to eight and I was for the thousandth time running my hands through my hospital gown and my hair. My hands were sweating and my stomach was churning, I stared at the door as if I wanted to open it with the power of my mind, until it opened.

It was shocking to see him so different from what I remembered. His hair was shaved and bleached, almost white. Now he had a colorless rose on his neck that took up half of his left side and a piercing in his septum. He was a different person, just like me, it really had been years.

“Only Marnie McGonagall manages to remain exuberant even all run down.” he cracks a wide smile to break the tension. “These are for you!” he hands me a bouquet of daisies. They're not my favorite, but I thank him.

“Thank you, they are beautiful. Thank you for coming.” I try to control my breathing. It's all so strange.

“I was surprised by the call, I swore that after you left you would never speak to me again.” he throws himself on the chair beside the bed.

“So our breakup was real?”

“Yes, but not the way you were told, you met this famous guy and fell for him. We had already broken up when I started going out with Bethany.” he talks as if he is talking about the weather. The mention of him and Bethany together makes me nauseous, maybe it was jealousy.

“My mother talked about cheating, that I caught you guys.” I introduce the subject calmly, I know how much Stephen hates to be accused of anything. He rolls his eyes like he' s saying ‘I knew it.’.

“It impresses me that you buy that, Lizzie. You know how much your parents hate me. You broke up with me, that's true, but because you met this guy. He bewitched you, and it wasn't easy to get over you.”

I take a deep breath trying to control myself. It was too much information, too much information. I had broken up with Stephen for Luke, this didn't make any sense. I loved Stephen, I still do. Maybe this memory loss was a chance for us to get back to the way things were before.

“Did you and Bethany...?”

“No! It didn't work out, then she moved to Canada with her family, it wasn't going to work out, and deep down…” he comes closer, sitting on the bed and holding my hand. “I still love you.”

I open my mouth, but can't say anything, the statement takes me in total surprise. Stephen seizes the moment and kisses me. Nostalgia overwhelms me and all the moments we have lived through take over my mind, but deep, deep down, something screams in my head, it wasn't right, it didn't feel right. It wasn't him.

I lower my head breaking the kiss, feeling more lost than before. Stephen holds himself in place, but my urge is to push him away. Something bubbles up inside me and it is not happiness or passion.

“I think it's time for you to go.” I let out a harsher tone than I expected. I still don't face his eyes, maybe out of fear, maybe because I can't bear to look at him.

“You call me here and send me away like this?” he asks incredulously and offended. “You are unbelievable, Marnie. I don't know why I still waste my time with you. Your memory may have faded, but deep down you are still under his spell.” at that moment I abruptly turn my face to meet his. I know that my eyes are burning with anger, and so are his.

“I said, it's time for you to go.” I say in a broken voice, listening to my heartbeat rise.

Stephen stares for a few seconds before he gets up, picks up the daisies, and slams the door. I sink into bed, trying to calm myself. It really wasn't one of my better ideas to call Stephen here, but maybe it was necessary.

I turn on the TV and flip through the channels until I notice a picture of me. I go back to the channel and turn up the volume. They are talking about my accident and without me being able to prepare myself, they play the video of how it all happened.

I hold my breath as the pickup truck crashes into my side, causing my car to spin on the road and crash into the pole. They play it one more time, but in slow motion. The tip of my nose tingles and my eyes start to fill up.

Still watching the TV, my mind brings back the moment of the accident.

"I crank up the starter and before I can send the audio, I feel a loud impact on my left side. A deafening noise fills the entire car. Quite faintly, I watch the track spin and feel the shards of glass hit me, before I give myself over to that uncontrollable sleep."

The video changes and they show my attending, I cover my mouth, watching my unconscious body being pulled from the car.

My stomach clenches and I feel like vomiting from the nervousness. I turn off the TV and grab my cell phone, going back to researching my life in an attempt to distract myself.

Unlike yesterday, I Google my name and see what headlines pop up about me. Some sites give a brief summary of my trajectory, which helps me a little.

I watch some videos of rehearsals, interviews, fashion shows, even those videos of paparazzi leaving restaurants, with him. I look again at Instagram calmly, photo by photo, video by video, even the stories archives. There are several parties, trips, slumber nights, bts from photo rehearsals, and a lot of stuff with him, again. Of course, he is your boyfriend. Asshole!

I barely recognize myself on the screen. The Marnie I watch is outgoing, funny and charismatic, and I was never like that, at least as far back as I can remember. Which leads me to believe that this Marnie, model, famous and full of important friends, is a character.

Leah, Noah, Calum, Ashton, Mike and Kyleen. They don't just seem like friends, they seem like my family, brothers, I don't know. While it is fun to watch some of these videos, of all of us fooling around and messing up, on the other hand it hurts not to have any memories of them.

“How is my little girl doing?” I snap out of my trance and run my eyes to the door. I feel my eyes water as I recognize the middle-aged man.

“Dad!” I hadn't realized the urge to cry until I saw him. Until I felt his embrace.

“ It's okay, my love. I'm here. It's going to be all right, I swear!” he comforts me while I soak his shirt.

“ I'm sorry.” I pull away, trying to control my tears.

“For what?” he looks at me curiously. I shrug, not knowing what to say. Lately I feel I have to apologize for everything. “Honey, none of this is your fault. This amnesia is just a sequel, in a little while it will go away and you will remember everything.”

“I hope so. Even because everything I've forgotten has been very hard to remember.” I comment, playing with the bar of the blanket.

“ It's been a busy three years. You went from just my little girl, to one of the top models of 2019. That's quite a breakthrough.” he laughs, which makes me crack a smile. Only my dad could make me find that funny.

“Apparently I'm dating a rock star.” I join in with him.

“A very nice guy, I must say. He gave me a Gibson guitar.” he widens his eyes, emphasizing how awesome that was.

“Dad, you play guitar?” that would be nothing compared to what I couldn't remember.

“No, but it is amazing to have it on the wall.” for the first time since this whole nightmare, I allow myself to laugh.

My father spent the rest of the morning with me. He told me about his new job and how he was traveling the world now, helping his boss. I don't know how my mother was dealing with all this, she hated to be away from him.

“Mom must not like this new job of yours at all, huh?” I ask, scraping my red Jell-O.

I glare at my father when I notice his silence. We were sharing the bed space, he also had a Jell-O and we looked like two little girls gossiping while stuffing themselves with ice cream. I find his silence strange and wonder if something is wrong.

“Dad?” I call him once more.

“I was trying to find the best way to tell you this.” he sits up straight.

“What? Did you and Mom have a fight?” that was normal, not that big a deal.

“No! Actually, a little more than two years ago, your mother and I talked and we thought it was better to go our separate ways... with different people.” he speaks very slowly, calmly, and a little fearfully. I blink a few times, taking in the words and what they meant together. They got divorced?

I sit up like him, feeling uneasy. I start to breathe deeply. My relationship went down the drain. My parents broke up. Bethany disappeared across Canada. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that I had before had survived.

“Honey?” he brings me back to reality.

“Why? What? What happened?’ I ask. He opens his mouth a few times, saying nothing, trying to find what to say.

“Things were not going very well anymore. We were arguing too much and not even looking at each other anymore.” he takes a deep breath, visibly uncomfortable. “And I had an affair with a woman from my old job, that was the end of it.” he says so low, I can hardly hear, and honestly, it was better not to listen.

I always grew up thinking that my father was the best man in the world. My superhero. Prince Charming from all the Disney movies. The kind of man I would like to meet in my life. And then I find out that my father was none of these things. He is just like all the others.

“How could you?” disgust overflows in my mouth. “You have a family.” again something bubbles up inside me.

“I have no excuse, no justification, I was wrong and I regret the way things turned out. It didn't have to be this way. Okay, today your mother and I are friends and we go our separate ways, but there was no need for all that suffering to happen.” he stares again at the jelly, ashamed.

Silence fills the room. Nobody knows what to say. I don't recognize the man next to me. I don't even know what is going on in my head at the moment, there are so many thoughts and assumptions that I feel like I'm going crazy.

“Have you found someone yet? I mean, are you still with that woman from your old job?” I ask softly, poking the skin on my finger.

“No, she was just a fling. It didn't work out. Your mother was seeing someone until last month, but apparently it didn't work out.” he shrugs, which shocks me a little. I know it's so natural for them, but I'm still absorbing it here. “I met someone, Meredith. We've been together for a year now.” he gives me a beautiful, passionate smile. “Let me show you some pictures.” He gets as excited as a teenager. “Unless you don't want to.” he looks at me fearfully.

“I want to.” I crack a tight smile.

My father is back to being the excited teenager as he shows me the pictures of Meredith and her children. Children?

“They're yours?” I ask slightly jealous.

“No, Kendall and Samantha are from her first marriage, they are twins.” he smiles. “But I love them as if they were my own, the same way I love you.” he gives me a kiss on the side of my head.

He passes me another picture and my heart races as soon as I see them both, he on my lap and she on Luke's lap. I hold up the cell phone and stare at the picture with an ache in my chest.

“This was at my wedding, you both looked beautiful.” my father comments softly. I bite my lip, trying to control my crying and smiling at the same time. We really did look beautiful.

“I always wanted to have brothers, remember?” I ask with my voice shaking. I pass another picture and now my father and Meredith are posing with the four of us.

“They think you are the best big sister in the world.” I grimace, letting the tears come over me. They are not from sadness. Honestly, I don't even know what they are from, but the feeling is good.

Around lunchtime my father left, as he was exhausted, he had come straight here from the airport after a 12 hour flight. I was alone for the rest of the afternoon reading, until my mother arrived at 4pm to pick me up.

When we left the room, I noticed that Luke didn't come, which I find strange, since I remember my mother had commented that he was coming with her.

“He had an upcoming incident with the band, but he should be at your apartment later.”

The fact that I have to wait longer to talk to him makes me nervous and anxious. I just wish he would show up soon so he could help me with everything and clear up the sea of curiosity.

Along the way, I am talking to my mother about her and my father. I was so distracted by the conversation that I didn't even notice when we arrived in front of a beautiful building.

“Are you sure we are at the right address?” I ask looking out the window. My mother laughs and gets out of the car. I live here?

When we get to my floor, I realize that there is only one apartment per floor. We must be at the wrong address. My jaw drops as I enter the hall of the apartment.

Right away I find a huge painting of myself on the wall to my left. I was wearing that strange make-up and an even stranger outfit. The tone is black and white, but I am sure that the color picture is very colorful.

“This was the picture of your first magazine cover.” my mother clarifies with a huge smile on her face. I stare at my picture again, still frowning.

I follow my mother into the living room, once again letting my jaw drop. I had a living room right at the entrance, to my right was the living room with a huge TV, and to my left was the dining room. Slowly, I walk through the space, looking at everything breathlessly.

“Is this my apartment?” I ask in surprise. My mother lets out a short laugh before confirming. “I bought it?” she nods. “With my money?” she nods again. “As a model?” she laughs. “Okay! This is still too much for me.”

I walk curiously around the apartment again, looking at the kitchen, living rooms and, of course, the bedrooms. Two guest rooms and mine. When I reach the second floor, I am confronted with a hallway full of pictures. They range from personal photos to work photos. I pay more attention to the pictures of me and Luke. We are a beautiful couple.

I go into my room and find everything arranged. I let the excitement take over me when I see the closet. I look at the clothes, amazed, besides several boxes of brands like Gucci, Prada and Chanel still unopened.

On the last shelf, I see an older looking box, the slightly faded color catches my eye. I pull out a small ladder and carefully pull the box onto my lap, it wasn't heavy, but doing this with a broken arm and a twisted leg is not easy.

I sit down on the closet floor itself and open the box, wishing I hadn't seen it and maybe never opened it. I gently run my hand over those little souvenirs with tears in my eyes once again. I need to stop crying.

Movie and concert tickets, dried flowers, empty peanut cans, cards, cabin photos, and beer caps, everything I lived through with Luke. The feeling that takes over me is almost suffocating. My body feels and radiates all that it represented, but my mind would not let the image load.

Underneath it all, I pull out a diary and, at the same time that curiosity eats away at me, fear also takes over. I close my eyes and open to a random page.

"I can't believe I modeled at NYFW. OMG! OMG! OMG! It's unbelievable. I'm going to need to watch the runway show about a thousand times before I can believe it."

I flip back a few sheets and stop when I see Luke's name.

"I know it's not a good sign that I'm thinking about him and being so close to him, but I can't help it. Luke is amazing. The way he looks at me, how he listens to me, how he understands me, and his kiss...I can't forget his kiss..."

“Sweetheart?” I hear my mother scream. I wipe away the tears and put the little box under the skirt of some dresses. I get up as fast as I can and walk to the bedroom door.

“Yes?”

“I thought I'd help you in the shower, what do you think? Get rid of that hospital smell.” I accept the idea, which sounds very good.

After a good shower, I put on some pajamas and get to know my room, opening all the drawers, looking at all the makeup, everything. I decide not to go through that box anymore, because I still don't know how to manage everything it represents.

Once again my mother calls me and I believe it's for dinner, but when I get to the living room I find a brunette girl and a guy with red hair.

“Hi?” I nod gracelessly.

“Hi!” they return the greeting a little nervous too.

I ‘know’ who they are. Ashton and Leah. They are in several pictures in my social networks, in my hallway and on the living room furniture.

I watch the brunette with long hair, crack a huge smile. I watch her fingers tightening, like a child trying to control herself. I smile fearfully, but it was enough for her to apologize before squeezing me in a hug.

“I know you don't remember me, but I am your best friend and I am so glad that you are okay.” I look at my mother, who is smiling, and at Ashton, with my eyes wide and patting her on the back.

“Leah, you don't have to suffocate her.” Ashton comments without manner, scratching his forehead.

She walks away gracelessly. I give her a smile, but thank her for the space. Ashton approaches a little fearfully and holds out his hand, respecting my space, but it is apparent that he also wants to give me a hug.

“You can hug me, I don't bite.” I joke, trying to break the tension.

He says nothing more and surrounds me with his arms. Unlike Leah, I manage to return the hug in the right way. His hug takes longer and I feel some tears on my shoulder.

“I thought we were going to lose you.” he squeezes me one more time, before pulling away, drying his tears clumsily.

“You won't get rid of me that easily.” I blink at them both.

“Well, the reason we came here was not just to see you. Of course we were worried to death and everyone wanted to come.” Leah begins.

“But we thought it better not to come all at once so as not to frighten you.” Ashton interrupts quickly. I thank him silently.

“Deep down, we wanted to bring you this.” she hands me a pen drive. “It's not perfect, but we made a powerpoint to explain everything that happened in these three years.” Leah gives a closed smile.

‘You made a power point?” I ask incredulously.

“Of course we did!” Ashton shakes his shoulders. “We hope it helps and that you remember something. Anything at all, any questions, just call.”

“Thank you very much!” I smile in appreciation for both of them.

“Don't you want to stay for dinner?” my mother offers. I look at them expectantly. They both look at each other and give a shrug.

“We don't have an appointment, right? It won't be a problem. The guys will just be really pissed off that they didn't come.” Leah warns Ashton.

“It will be a pleasure to have dinner.” Ashton smiles in appreciation.

Dinner was very quiet, I did most of the talking. They were very curious to know what amnesia was like and how I was feeling and dealing with everything.

“Depending on how things go for you this week, we thought we would have a dinner on Friday. Then if you feel comfortable, of course, you can see everyone again.” Ash suggests.

There is still time until Friday, but just the thought of seeing everyone makes my stomach turn. I know they are my friends and they know me, but I still get nervous. Not to mention that they are famous, I don't know how to deal with these people. Although I am too.

“That's fine, we'll confirm by Friday.” I open a nervous smile. “Huh, Luke didn't want to come?” I question, upset at his absence today.

How am I supposed to get to know and get close to him if he doesn't come?

I watch the two of them look at each other and wrap up the beginning of their answer. In the end, Ashton sighs and answers.

“He is having a hard time absorbing all this. He just needs some time to sort it all out in his head.” Ash shrugs, signaling that it was no big deal.

I understand that it is hard for him. I don't know how I would handle it if I were him, but I'm not going to pretend to be upset that he's not here either, although I can't do anything about it, I'm not going to force him to stay here if he doesn't want to.

“It's really weird having Luke as my boyfriend, you guys as best friends. It's so out of reality. It feels like I'm in a dream and soon I'll wake up.” I comment, playing with the cloth napkin.

“Look, the first time you handled and accepted all of this well. I'm sure you'll manage again.” Leah squeezes my hand on the table.

“So, a powerpoint, hm?” I change the subject not being able to prolong my curiosity any longer. Even though I'm scared, I want to see it.

Leah cheers up again and begins to explain everything very excitedly. With their help we go to the living room and I put the pen drive on the TV, ready to see what they have done. It is strange to think that this small object has all the answers I am looking for. Not to mention the fear of the unknown, in this case, the forgotten one.

“Ok, so this is Michael…” I watch her standing beside the screen, explaining everything to me, with extreme patience and good will. My god, she is an angel.

I look at all my friends and the things we have done. I notice how Ashton was a kind of older brother, overprotective, and Leah was a kind of sister. Always holding hands or holding arms. Or when we were drunk, trying to climb on each other's backs.

They put all the trips we took, my fashion shows and photo shoots, some interviews. It was a great summary. I stare at the screen feeling something strange welling up in me, I see flashes forming in my head, and I begin to force myself to remember.

“Don't skip.” I shout to her, not wanting to lose the flow of memory. “Play that video again.” I ask desperately.

I approach the TV watching Noah, Leah's brother, walking in front of the camera with a bag on his head and complaining that the product was burning. He was bleaching his hair.

" “Why does this shit burn so bad?” I hear Noah shouting from the room, pissed off.

“Because it's bleaching.” I answer, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I sit down on the couch next to Calum, who is very interested in the package of bleach.

“What do you think about me bleaching mine?” he asks, still focused on the package in his hand.

I stare at him for a few minutes, trying to imagine the look. I pout, signaling that it wouldn't look too bad, in my opinion.

“For God's sake, you're not going to do that ridiculous lock of hair again, are you?” Leah shouts from the bathroom.

“It wasn't ridiculous.” He defends himself loudly. “But I really wouldn't do it again.” he comments softly, making me laugh.

“OH MY GOD.” I hear Noah scream. We run into the bathroom to find his white hair, with a few colored dots, just like the ones in the bag.

I cover my mouth in shock. Leah starts to record trying to hold in her laughter, as do I, but we simply can't stand it when Calum reads the name of the pharmacy in Noah's head.

I see him leaning against the doorframe laughing with his hand on his stomach and eyes closed. Miserably, I still try to hold in my laughter, not lasting long and joining Calum, becoming almost breathless.

“Oh man.” he dries his tears, laughing again next."

“Noah didn't want to go out anymore that night. We ordered burritos and stayed at his place. Calum and I spent the whole night laughing about it.” I speak too fast, running over a few words. I replay the scene in my head a few more times still flustered.

They both look at me and Leah starts jumping up and down in celebration. I remembered, I remembered! I start yelling at her, celebrating.

“What's wrong?” my mother comes running from the bedroom.

“I remembered. I remembered Noah with bad hair!” I shout, out of breath. The three of them hug me and again we shout.

19 notes · View notes

resinatingbeauty · 3 years

Text

In Memory of The Best Friend I Ever Had - RIP Shadow (assumed)- 4/30/2021

Shadow showed up at my parents house where I lived at the time, one night back in 2016. I had just gotten home from working at a local country club late in the evening, tired, and physically burnt out from working 40+ hours a week on top of going to college for my associates degree. I saw something pass by the driveway out of the corner of my eye. Something massively fluffy, tail straight up in the air, trotting along. There are many feral cat colonies in this town and many cat owners that lived on that street. Needless to say, I didn't expect this one to whip back around and start chirping at me, rubbing my legs after I called to her.

My mother was adamant when my last two cats had past 8 or so years prior that she wasn't looking for any more pets. My mom loves animals, but she also loves her home and was thinking about doing renovations before adopting any new companions. I knew I was in trouble when this cat came to me with nothing but affection, clearly malnourished, but strangely well groomed. I knew she had to be owned by someone, I had no idea who.

That night I went inside after spending some time enjoying her company. At the time, I was calling 'Charlemange'' as a play on 'Charlemagne'. I had been taking a medieval humanities course at the time and the name seemed fitting enough considering how much scraggly fur she had. Huge paws. Big, fluffy tail and mane. I had never seen a cat so gorgeous around the area. All the feral cats are short hairs, reinforcing my notion that she had to be someone's pet.

I watched through the window slit of the front door as Charlemange played with the moths and other bugs that were attracted to the lamp post my parents have at the end of the driveway and regretted leaving her out there.

I simply thought that Charlemange would return home where she belonged. When I went out to my back screened in patio, whom do you think was waiting for me? Meowing? Charlemange. To my mother's horror, she would launch herself at the screen and hang there to get our attention. Imagine this big ass cat hanging from your screened in porch you've been trying to renovate by all her claws.

She was persistent and Charlemange NEVER returned home, wherever home was.

Eventually, I sealed the deal, low key giving her a can of tuna. Now you see how Shadow went from Charlemange to Shadow.

For about a month, all I had to do was make a high pitched noise and Shadow would come out of wherever brush she was stalking, running and talking until she found me. One evening, I went to give her her dinner, and she shot in the front door.

Mortified, I watched as she scooted right into the one place that I dreaded her to go. My parent's room. That night, as a 20 something, I received a lecture from my father about how my mother felt about pets. 'She isn't a kitten, you know,' he said, 'thats a grown cat. Someone else's cat.'

I just listened and acknowledged what he was saying. I knew there was no point trying to explain what exactly happened. When my dad got done going off on the back porch and went back in to bed, I heard a meow from the patio door. Shadow had been standing at the door, waiting for him to leave , almost like she was saying, 'Hey, I'm really sorry about that, sis,'

Shadow would go on to live in or around the property for nearly a month. I made an effort to find her owners and return her to no avail. Eventually, a single mom I had been working as a private tutor for as a side hustle agreed that she would take Shadow. This would only last for a few months. The family had another cat, Karma, whom had been declawed (I abhor this) and two little girls who had no respect for animals (especially cats) because of this. I knew how the oldest handled Karma and my only solace in handing Shadow over was that I knew she wouldn't be hit by a car, would be fed, loved to a degree, and would scratch the shit out of them if they fucked up.

Their mother ended up calling me, giving me money to bring Shadow in to the humane society, saying she was a wonderful cat, just not the best fit for the girls. I could only imagine what Shadow went through at that house, because the time there changed her. The collar I had on her was returned to me snapped in two. It looked like it had been pulled off. I cringed thinking about it and never put another collar back on that cat. At the time, a woman had been busted hoarding 100+ cats that had all been relinquished to the humane society and local rescues. The humane society's solution for most was euthanasia and I wasn't about that for Shadow. Back to my backyard she went.

Eventually, Shadow won over my mother and my father, especially my father, whom you would never think would love that cat so much. When my mother brought Shadow to the vet, we were surprised to find she had a chip in her ear registered to someone on our block. As per protocol, animal control was sent out to investigate. The woman told animal control that she didn't want the cat. All she did was run away. Shadow's real name was Holly, but she was still Shadow to me.

Shadow became the best friend I ever knew. Not a night went by where she wasn't under my covers sharing the pillow with me, laying stretched out on her back or side as the little spoon. If she wasn't in my bed, she would sit at the door to the bedroom, guarding me or in a chair next to me, always watching. I could do no wrong in that cat's eyes. She was the highlight of my day when I got home from every crappy job I had since. A furry coat to soak up the tears shed during long nights of insomnia and depression. An inspiration for my art and spirituality. My familiar and kindred spirit. If I would talk to her, she would respond with chirps and meows like she knew exactly what I was saying. If someone else was in the room giving her attention and I walked in, she would perk up and run toward me like they never existed. Shadow was the second cat that chose me. I have never chosen a cat from a shelter or adoption / rescue facility. This is how I acquired both my childhood furry friend and Shadow.

It all began when I noticed Shadow's fur was sticky and stiff, like she had been sitting in honey. Just the end of her tail at first. She always had this silly habit of sitting in her food tray, so I cleaned it and her and thought nothing of it until the drooling started.

Shadow had always been a drooler, but not to this extent. Drool bubbles would pop from her left lip. One night, when I came home from work before I started my leave to focus on my Etsy shop, I was horrified to find her sitting on the couch with a bloody chin. Now, there wasn't a large amount of blood, but this alarmed me significantly. It was time to see a vet, like, yesterday. Thankfully, my shop sales had been great and I didn't have to fret over the bill- I was ready to pay whatever it was to make her feel better.

The vet confirmed what I knew deep down and didn't want to acknowledge because the thought was just too painful. Cancer. No chance of survival even if I wanted to go through the hell of treatment, which involved removal of the tongue and jaw. I brought Shadow home and cried, hoping for the best -that the antibiotic would work. The vet said she had been wrong before, it could just be an abscess and it would heal. Shadow was still doing cat things. Shadow was still my best friend, she still loved me, she was still trying to cuddle me at night and surrounding me with the reminder of death in the odor of her breath.

Yesterday, I brought Shadow in to be put to sleep. The decision was made when I looked up from making a rune set and saw puddles of blood on the floor, a stream of it from her face as she was sitting in the window sill. I have never felt so heartbroken. Not even at a family member's funeral. I asked to bring her home, burying her under the tree where I buried my last cat and childhood familiar, Elmo. When I saw the standard biohazard bag peeking up through the dirt, I knew that was where she belonged. With her sister. Yesterday, my heart was buried with that cat. Eleven years was not long enough but each one filled with so much love and happiness. I stood with her until the end. The only peace I feel is that I know that she is no longer hurting. I know she knew I loved her.

I miss you Shadow. To those of you who have recently lost your best friend, your familiar or the love of your life, my heart goes out to you. I hope that someone else can read this and share my pain. I understand that there was nothing I could do but love her. Love your pets. Love them as long and as well as you can- nothing is immortal. We accept this when we commit to caring for our (mostly) furry (sometimes scaly or feathery) friends. This doesn't mean that it hurts any less when we lose them.

To my customers, who have been patiently and diligently awaiting orders while Etsy forced hiatus on my shop, preventing sales during this crisis in addition to my sister in law's wedding and me poking my own eye out back and February- you all are really the best turn of luck I've had. You do not know how much I appreciate you allowing me the time to spend these last few precious moments with her. It truly means the world to me and I hope at the end you receive something worth your time and patience. I have not forsaken fulfillment, and orders are still shipping. Unfortunately, I NEED to reopen and accept new orders, as Etsy is demanding payment for $600 worth of shipping labels. My shop is still appearing as in hiatus at the moment, but I ask for all the support my friends, supporters and followers can offer at this time as I essentially will be working for free when I reopen to pay these fees. Great, right?

If you are awaiting refunds, there is literally no money in the account associated with Etsy. However, as the funds become available, I will be processing refunds / cancellations. I'm sorry for the delays, I never thought I would say I found success at the worst possible time. I urge the rest of you- if you have a deadline for your order for the love of goddess TELL ME. I am getting a little frustrated with buyers (who are frustrated with me, understandably, but still, my item descriptions are clear about relaying deadlines) who are upset or complaining about meeting gift deadlines or other deadlines I literally had no idea about. I'm a decent psychic, but not perfect.

~ Samantha

(Owner/Designer/Creator blursedbaubles.etsy.com)

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years

Note

I've been thinking about Faith giving Faust head and getting frustrated that she can't fit all of him inside her mouth. Faust would have to teach her some tactics to work around his size - using her hands, sucking his balls etc. (Or maybe she just fucking chokes on him, idk 🙈)

Warning: 18+ smut/anti-religious/anti-Christian themes/angst etc.

Faust x Faith Masterpost [x]

Faust wasn’t answering his phone. After the first few unanswered text messages, Faith assumed the worst. When she called, every ring seemed to echo in her head, warning her of things she had to force herself to suppress. She called again. No answer. Her call dropped and the line went dead.

In her fearful heart, Faust’s absence came from sudden disinterest. He had had his way with her, and that was all he needed. It was on to the next girl. Faust said himself: he’d fucked many girls. Some of them once and then never spoke to them again. Was his profession of love just a show? Faith swallowed the knot of anxiety clogging her throat, but it returned, bigger and more constrictive than ever.

Her parents dropped her off at her dorm after church. Faith waited until they drove off and turned the corner before marching to the bus stop, cell phone in hand, still waiting for Faust to return a message. When the bus arrived, she flashed her student card and took a seat near the back so she could hang her head and avoid the stares. In her Sunday best, Faith felt ridiculous, and with tears lining her eyes, she was sure somebody would notice her for the wrong reasons.

Faust’s roommate answered over the intercom with a careless grunt when she pressed the buzzer.

“It’s Faith. Is Faust home?”

His roommate didn’t answer, but the door clicked open, allowing her to pass through. She rode the elevator up, wringing her wrists and smoothing out the front of her dress over and over until she reached the top. As always, loud metal music seeped from under the door at the end of the hallway. She didn’t bother knocking since nobody ever did, and opened the door to find an empty living room.

Faith paused at Faust’s door, pressing her ear to the wood. At first, she heard nothing. Then a hollow clicking noise came from inside. She knocked, but there was no answer.

“Fuck,” she heard Faust mutter. “Oh, fuck.”

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Faith opened the door and peered into the room to find Faust sitting at his computer desk with a large pair of headphones muffling his ears. He was in his boxer shorts, shirtless, legs spread wide under the desk with both his knees bouncing.

The clicking noise came from his drumsticks hitting various pads of an electric drumkit hooked up to his computer. The screen showed a mostly gray interface, streaked with multi-coloured lines. Every time he struck a pad, the line blipped. Faith let out the tension from her overfilled lungs.

“Faust?” She called.

The man didn’t hear her voice, so she came up from behind him and tapped on his shoulder. A startled gasp leapt from his throat as he whirled around in his desk chair, green eyes wide with fright. Faust ripped off his headphones, ready to berate her for startling him, but his words faded fast as she dropped to her knees before him.

She tugged his boxers down to his knees before he dropped his sticks and grabbed hold of her hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked.

Faith continued wrestling his underwear off until he conceded, spreading his legs wide so she could fit between them. One dainty hand rubbed up and down his soft shaft until it twitched and rolled to one side, filling with blood. Faust stopped her.

“How did you get in here?” Faust asked, eyebrows clinching together.

“Your roommate buzzed me in,” she replied.

“Fucking Isak,” he griped. “Aren’t you supposed to be in church?”

“That finished hours ago. Aren’t you supposed to answer your phone when your girlfriend calls?”

“I’m a little busy.”

Faith tried on her most innocent smile. “Too busy for me to suck your dick?”

Before she ducked down, Faust rolled his chair away, though his cock remained fully erect. “I have to get this track recorded.”

She crawled toward him. Faust noticed her hair tied up in a glistening pink ribbon, and the gold cross shining across her collarbone. The dress she wore looked like it had come off a porcelain doll—all velvet and lace, puffy sleeves and buttons down the bodice. He shouldn’t have found it arousing, but it was, and he cursed under his breath.

“What? You get a taste of dick once, and now you’re some little cum dumpster?”

“Your cum dumpster,” Faith purred.

Her hands travelled up his thighs again, enclosing his shaft in a double-handed grip. She tugged him back and ran her tongue over his balls, sucking one into her mouth, then the other. Faust hummed like an engine as her grip tightened.

“You ever suck a cock this big before?” He asked.

Faith shook her head, using the motion to stimulate him a little more.

“Of course not. You’re too much of a good girl,” Faust said, tangling her bouncy ponytail around his hand. “But somehow you know exactly what to do, huh? How is that? Have you been practicing a lot on your dildo at home?”

“I’ve seen how it’s done,” she claimed.

“Is that so? Have you been watching porn? Trying to figure out how all this works?”

Faith descended on him, his girth forcing her lips into an exaggerated O-shape. His head hit the back of the chair, and he moaned, thrusting his hips up once to choke off her airway, but only for a split second. She giggled, and the vibrations tickled his groin. Faust used her ponytail as a reign to draw her back, the head of his cock popping out of her mouth with an animated noise.

“You made me fuck up my best take,” he growled as he stood up, taking her with him.

Faust guided her to the bed, where she sat on the edge and looked up with shiny, innocent eyes. She opened her mouth again, tempting Faust with her tongue lolling out. He bounced the head off her tongue, then gagged her with half his length in one swift motion. A wave of saliva oozed from her glands, and he came away with several strings of it dripping from his cock. He gave her throat another quick prod, shivering from the spit connecting them.

“How was church, baby? Did you tell God about the filthy fucking things you did to my cock the other day after you lied to your daddy? Tell him how I stretched that fucking pussy and dumped a huge load all over you?”

Faith shook her head. “Why would I tell him when I’m not ashamed of it?”

“Well, you should be. It’s a sin to be so cock-hungry. You shouldn’t be thinking about swallowing my cum.”

“But I can’t help it.”

Faust stroked her cheek, then tapped her lips, glossing them with his pre-cum. “I know. It’s because you’re a bad, bad, filthy little girl. You’re corrupted. And God doesn’t want nasty things like you.”

Before Faith answered, Faust cradled the back of her head and pushed forward, sheathing his entire length until he hit the back of her throat. She came up with a sharp gasp, eyes watering. He bit his lip, a jolt of guilt stopping and restarting his heart. Faust climbed onto the bed and pressed his back against the headboard, spreading his legs so she could crawl between them.

“Lie on your stomach. That’s it. Suck my balls again.”

Eager to please him, Faith did as she was told and hefted one of his testicles with her tongue. She rolled it between her lips before taking it in her mouth. Faust stroked his length and spread his legs wider to watch her treating his scrotum like she would a lollipop. He bent his knees and inched his pelvis lower. Soon, her excess saliva dripped down, and he shivered when she let the tip of her tongue drag up the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, you look so cute in your little dress, with your ribbons and shit. Were your panties soaked all morning while you sat listening to your minister telling you how much God loves you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Faith moaned.

“Did you sit next to your daddy and pray for the chance to take this big fucking dick down your throat?”

Again, Faith agreed. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, pumping him in time with each bob of her head. After a few minutes, her jaw began to ache, and Faust noticed. It reminded him of how she hurt the morning after they had sex for the first time. As satisfying as it was to know he’d left his mark in the form of nagging pain, her whimpers struck his chest in a sickening way that made him wince. Suddenly, the tears in her eyes from choking weren’t as erotic. He snapped his hips back and took her up in his arms, kissing her swollen lips until she tried pawing at his groin again.

“Please, I want to,” she whispered.

“I’m hurting you again.”

“No, I like it.”

“I don’t like making you hurt.”

“Faust, please,” Faith whined. “I can take it. It might hurt a little, but it feels so good. Please, I want to make you feel good too.”

“Turn around then.”

Faith reversed her position, lying down so her chest pressed against his stomach while she took him in her mouth again. Faust lifted her dress, sighing at the sight of her panties before wedging them to the side. Her pussy looked smooth, appetizing, and so wet he longed to suck the dew from her lips. He did, and the moment his tongue made contact with her opening, she groaned around his length. He gave her mouth one shallow thrust before spreading her wide to stare at her opening.

“Fuck, your pussy tastes so sweet when you’re all wet for me. Just soaking through your panties for me.”

Faith learned to breathe through her nose as she sucked his cock. His remarkable length hitting the back of her throat caused wave after wave of spit to fill her mouth. She swallowed it all down, moaning when his tongue sluiced back and forth over her pussy lips, locating her clit after a moment of teasing.

“Oh, yeah. Suck that cock while I eat your perfect little pussy.”

She squealed when he spanked her, the sensation encouraging her to go faster. Faust placed her thighs over his shoulders and got off the bed with her hanging in the air. Though suspended several feet off the ground, Faith continued working his shaft while he tilted his pelvis, effectively fucking her mouth while he sucked her clit.

If Faith were a regular band-slut, Faust would have dropped her back onto the bed and thoroughly fucked her throat until her cheeks turned purple. But she wasn’t. Faith was all his and had never given thought to jump from one guy to the next the way his previous flings had. It’s what made him treat her with care. He couldn’t get off to the sounds of her gagging and spluttering all over his dick. He wanted her to feel as good as she made him feel, no matter how badly he wanted to pound into her mouth.

Though she was much smaller than him, suspending her weight grew tiresome, and he lay back down on the bed so she could finish him off in comfort. He cradled her jaw, forcing her to look up at him while his shaft glided back and forth over her tongue. Then, she slid onto the floor, kneeling before him in a more traditional position. He fought off the urge to pull her face closer and let her follow her instincts.

After a while, Faith popped off his dick, stretching her sore jaw muscles. Faust still hadn’t come, and she wondered how much longer he needed. Was she not doing it right? Did her skill pale in comparison to others he’d experienced? She stared up at him, eyes wide with wonder.

“I’m almost there, baby. Keep going. I know it hurts, but... Fuck, I’m close, I promise.”

The real issue was time. Faust expected is bandmates to show up at any moment. Sundays were designated for practice, and this week, they were recording demos before heading into the studio. He looked at the clock, and it read five past one. If they hadn’t shown up already, they were late. Faust shook his head free of worry and focused on the beautiful girl between his thighs, lavishing his dick with her tongue and lips. He closed his eyes, dropped his head back, and concentrated on the sensation. But before he made it to the edge of orgasm, his bedroom door flew open.

“Fuck!” Faust exclaimed, pulling out of Faith’s mouth before she realized what happened. When she looked up and saw the shock on his face, she turned around and gasped.

Ola, Mordy, and the new singer all stood in the doorway with varying degrees of amusement on their faces. Mordy tried pulling the door shut, but Ola’s boot was in the way. The guys tripped over each other, embarrassment and intrigue causing them each to stumble and offer apologies.

“Shit, Faust. Sorry!”

“Get the FUCK out! Doesn’t anyone know how to fucking knock?” Faust hollered.

Once the door shut, Faust looked down at Faith, who was glowing with humiliation.

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe that just happened,” she groaned.

“This is exactly why I wasn’t answering you. Today’s just not a good day.”

Faust rose from the bed, now flaccid, scooped up his boxers and got dressed while Faith fiddled with the hem of her dress.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had plans for the day. I just thought you were ignoring me because you’d had enough. I thought—”

“That’s fucking ridiculous, Faith. Don’t even bother finishing that sentence. You know that’s stupid. If I don’t answer my phone, it means I’m fucking busy. It doesn’t mean I’m out fucking other chicks. Don’t start to get all paranoid and clingy, okay? I hate that shit.”

Faith bit her tongue and nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I already told you... Sundays I have band stuff to do. You have your stupid church shit, and I have my shit. We can’t be together every single day of every week.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I said I’m sorry.”

Faust found his wallet, opened it and took out a twenty-dollar bill. He handed it to her. Faith looked at him, confused.

“What’s this for?”

“Take a cab home. I can’t drive you.”

“But—”

“Look, babe, I’ll call you later. I have a lot to do today. We’re going into the studio, and I’m supposed to have my tracks down already, which I would have had finished had you not come in unannounced.”

Faith looked down at the note and then back up at him, feeling terribly obtuse and regretful. “I didn’t mean to interrupt something important. And you could have said something instead of letting me waste my time trying to make you feel good.”

Before Faust could get another word out, Faith left the room and shut the door with enough force to make him flinch. He knew he should go after her, but his pride anchored him in place. He would have to pick up the argument at a later time, though he knew the unfinished business would tail him to the studio and nag in the back of his mind all day.

Faust scoffed. “Goddamn it.”

He left his bedroom and found his band sitting in the living room looking like they’d seen a ghost walk by. Faust shook his head, not wanting to talk about what had just transpired.

“Uh, sorry, Faust. We thought you were still laying down drums. We had no idea you were—”

“Just shut the fuck up, all right? Let’s just get this over with.”

#faust x faith #faust stuff #valter skarsgard imagine #valter skarsgard fanfiction

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missyslittlepet · 4 years

Text

((Requested - It's readers birthday and Heartman surprises them with vines.

It's not very long but I really hope this is kinda what you were after????? Enjoy!!! 👍🏻💙))

Happy Birthday Raven! I Can't Swim.

"What do you fancy for breakfast?" You asked Heartman as you walked to the kitchen.

"Now that you've gained some strength back after your surgery you can have whatever you want. My treat."

You were so happy that he finally got a heart transplant meaning he didn't have to stick to his twenty one minute cycle anymore. You had been together for about a year when he agreed to it having fully moved on from the search for his family.

"Can I get a waffle?" He asked with a grin. He had been on strick healthy foods to help with the recovery so he was ready to get his teeth into something tasty.

"CAN I PLEASE GET A WAFFLE?!" Your brain had the words out before you even thought about it. The reaction was so natural considering how long it had been since you had watched that video.

Heartman jumped at your sudden outburst making his glasses go askew. You laughed again at his reaction, he was so cute sometimes.

"(F/n), you can't go making me jump, I still don't know just how much this new heart can take." Heartman joked.

"I know," You laughed. "I'm sorry Heartman. It was instinct, honestly. I used to love vines."

"Vines?" Heartman asked carefully adjusting his glasses before looking over them at you.

"Yeah, Vine." You grinned excitedly.

Heartman squinted in confusion and you felt your smile drop.

"Oh come on! Please tell me you know what vines are!"

"I can't say that I do (f/n), sorry. What are Vines?"

"Oh my God, how did you miss out on vines?! They were short videos on the internet before the Death Stranding. Just a few seconds long but they were so hilarious! Me and my friends used to communicate solely in vine references, it was great!"

Heartman smiled at your enthusiasm despite not having the faintest idea what you were talking about. He could tell that these 'Vines' meant a great deal to you.

"Ah well," You sighed fondly at the memory. "I'll get you those waffles!"

You beamed at him before returning to your task.

He watched from his chair as you pottered around the kitchen making him his food. The smell floated through the air and made his mouth water. He adored you and appreciated all that you had done for him over the past few years. You were his rock when he lost him family and when the Death Stranding finally ended he realised that you had become his world. You were always helping him in some way. Whether that be through his mourning or getting him waffles.

Heartman knew your birthday was tomorrow and he was yet to find a gift for you. Despite knowing you so well he still struggled with finding gifts for you. He had been searching for a way to show you how much you meant to him but nothing was as heartfelt as you deserved. He had considered proposing to you but he didn't want to be cliche and wanted to make it really special.

However, now that he had found out about your love of 'Vines' he thankfully had a few ideas. He decided he would wait until you went to your meeting with Die-hardman before getting started since he knew you would be trapped there for hours.

Heartman had missed his research and now he had something new to get his teeth into. Due to Sam successfully connecting the Chiral Network it meant that he now had access to archives from before the Death Stranding. He quickly typed in 'Vines' into the database and thousands of folders popped up. At first all he could find was information on plant samples but he was determined to find what he was looking for.

After an hour and a half of searching he finally found a folder containing videos and social media posts. From what you had described he thought he was in the right place. He browsed the video titles and found one called 'Iconic Vines That Cured My Depression And Watered My Houseplants' and decided it was a great place to start. He opened up the video and watched intently not sure what to expect.

"Two bros chilling in a hot tub. Five feet apart cuz they're not gay!" The video was of two men and lasted only a few seconds.

"What on earth?" Heartman said pushing his glasses up his nose. He leant in closer to the screen.

"Every time you yell at your kids put a quarter in your no yelling sock and pretty soon you'll have a weapon to bea-"

Heartman couldn't help chuckle at that one. The more he watched the more confused he became in the most wonderful way. The humor was ridiculous but he loved it and found himself laughing along with them. Before he knew it he had binged several compilation videos and had a whole set of notes to create some birthday surprises.

Your cuff flashed as you sat in yet another meeting signaling you had received a message. You were thankful that this was the last meeting of the week. They were getting more and more frequent as they were discussing plans for repairs to old delivery equipment. Of course this meeting just so happened to be on your birthday. Lucky you right?

You hadn't gotten the chance to speak to Heartman before you left. He still slept a lot despite his recovery almost being over meaning he was still fast asleep when you were getting ready. He looked so peaceful and you kissed his forehead and snuck out the door, careful not to wake him.

After half an hour more of listening to renovation plans the meeting finally came to an end allowing you to check your mail. You felt a smile tugging at your lips when you saw Heartman's name pop up. You always loved seeing what he wrote to you.

"Good afternoon love, I'm sorry I wasn't awake to see you off. I hope you're having a great birthday and I can't wait for you to come back home to me. Missing you always,

- H x "

You grinned at your cuff before making your way back home. You knew the drive would take forever.

Heartman stood back to admire his creations. Truth be told he was really proud of himself. He never considered himself good at gift giving but this time he was excited. He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you saw what he had been planning. With a grin Heartman placed the last tray down on the table and waited for you to arrive home.

When the door finally slid open Heartman jumped up and ran towards it to greet you.

"Happy birthday (f/n)!" He said as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and gave you a kiss.

"Close your eyes." He said before you could come any further into the house.

You looked at him suspiciously before doing so anyways. Heartman took your hands in his and began leading you through the house and into the living room area.

"Okay (f/n), you can open them!" He said awaiting your reaction eagerly.

Slowly you opened your eyes and were met with trays of food on the table.

"Welcome to Chilies! I hope you're hungry!" Heartman's grin grew wider.

"What is all this?" You laughed looking at the strange choices of food.

"Could I interest you in some Freeshavoca-do?" Heartman asked pointing to some guacamole in a bowl.

You felt your smile widen.

"Or perhaps some hurricane tortillas?" Heartman could tell that his references were being recognised.

You were beaming at this point. You couldn't believe what he had done for you. Now all the foods made a little more sense to you.

Heartman gestured at a plate of chicken strips.

"Fuck ya chicken strips!" You both shouted in unison. Heartman's new heart melted at how happy you were.

"Oh Heartman!" You pulled him into a hug. "Thank you so much, this is the best present ever!"

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

"This is actually your present." He said taking a step towards the table and picking up the gift box from it. He handed it to you and waited.

You bit your bottom lip as you took the lid off. When your eyes fell upon the wrapped object you started to laugh knowing full well what was under the paper. You quickly ripped it open and put on your best child's voice.

"An avocado... thanks!" You giggled and placed the box back on the table.

"Actually," Heartman laughed. "This is your real present." He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to you.

You took the second box and opened it still laughing from the avocado. Inside was a USB stick. You looked up at him and raised your eyebrow.

"It contains thousands of vines so you will never have to miss them again!" Heartman looked so proud of himself. "Happy birthday (f/n)."

You brushed your finger over the USB stick and felt tears come to your eyes. To anyone else they were just stupid videos but they held so many memories for you. They transported you back to before everything went to shit, made you relive moments with those you had lost a long time ago. No one had ever given you a gift that thoughtful before.

"Heartman... I... Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me... How much you mean to me..." You smiled blinking away your tears. "I love you so much."

"And I love you too (f/n)." Heartman rested his palm against your cheek and you nuzzled into it. "We could make a night out of this and play them on the big screen if you'd like? I've grown quite fond of them."

"I'd love to!"

You quickly ran to set it all up while Heartman shut out the day light and set the lighting to pink and blue.

The whole night was amazing. You both cuddled up and feasted on the vine related food while laughing like a pair of hyenas. You were over the moon that he seemed to enjoy vine humor just as much as you did. When it started getting late and you started yawning Heartman stood and switched the screen off.

"Come on, you look tired." He smiled warmly, hold out his hand to you.

You took his outstretched hand gratefully with another yawn. You went to start grabbing the plates but he stopped you quickly.

"Don't you worry about those love, I'll tidy this up. It is your birthday after all." Heartman smiled grabbing the plates from the table. He hummed to himself as he made his way to the kitchen area.

"This bitch is indeed empty. Yeet." Heartman chuckled loudly throwing the plates in the dishwasher.

You shook your head and laughed at the butchered attempt of a vine quote and wondered how you ever got so lucky. This truly was the best birthday you could have ever asked for. Vines, food and Heartman. What's not to love?

#death stranding heartman #heartman fanfiction #heartman imagine #heartman x reader #heartman #i loved this request so much #heartman fics

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heartbreakerholland · 6 years

Text

lunchtime losers [p.p.]

Summary: Peter Parker was one of your best friends in high school, but there were moments that made you question who exactly he could be to you. Here are a few of those moments you spent in Midtown, trying to figure things out year by year.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of underaged drug use, mild swearing, open ended. . . ending(?), unedited

Disclaimer: i cannot stress enough that you shouldn't do drugs/alcohol while underaged. i know high school is weird and everybody might seem to be experimenting with new things, but i promise there'll be a time and place where it's appropriate to do so. i am in no way glamorizing/romanticizing (underaged) drug use, even if it's such a small portion of this fic. drug/alcohol abuse is very serious, even as a teenager when it doesn't seem like you're abusing it.

A/N: i have some pointers! this is a different writing style compared to what i've posted before. i've written like this back when i first started writing fanfiction years ago and quite frankly, i don't even like it that much, so i'm very iffy about this. this is based off of my own experience with getting to know my feelings about a good friend, and a lot of the scenes in here are closely accurate to what's actually happened in my life. the only part that i can say is 100% pure imagination is the ending, which i know will probably make a lot of you frustrated ☺️ (it's because i still haven't told this person my feelings for him oops) ANYWAYS this is written in a very one sided perspective, but i tried to write in a way that you can read between the lines and get a little idea of what peter’s feelings are too. a lot of peter’s and the reader’s feelings are told merely through action and dialogue and less of actual explaining, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💞

feedback is greatly appreciated and feel free to request a part 2! enjoy reading!

[masterlist] [join a tag list]

•••

Freshman Year

"This has been going on for weeks," Michelle muttered to you. "If the tension at the table gets any worse, then I'm not sitting with you guys anymore."

You stepped out of the lunch line with your tray in hand, following MJ to stand away from the crowd of students. Looking behind her, you watched Peter and Ned enter the lunch room and sit down at your usual table.

You rolled your eyes. "I already told you. Maybe Peter likes me and maybe I like him back, but he's always been one of my closest friends. I don't want to ruin that."

She scoffed and began walking towards the table with you at her side. "So? You can date and still be friends—"

"But what about when we break up? We either stay friends or never talk to each other again. I'm not risking it."

You knew she would have said more, but the two of you already made it to your table. You took place in your usual seats, Michelle next to Ned and you across from them, next to Peter. You set your backpack on the ground underneath the bench where everyone sat. Without thinking about it, you handed Peter your chocolate milk carton and apple sauce, while he slid over his fruit snacks that May always packed for him. It was a routine; you always got those because you didn't like eating it but you knew Peter did, and Peter never told May that he doesn't like fruit snacks because you loved eating them.

MJ narrowed her gaze at you during the interaction, but you chose to ignore her. It was nothing more than a routine.

"Y/N, Michelle," Ned said. "Please tell Peter that he's being stupid.”

Without missing a beat, you and MJ repeated Ned's words at the same time.

Peter glanced between the two of you with mock surprise. "You didn't even know what we were talking about!"

MJ shrugged, taking a bite out of her food. "Don't have to. You're always stupid, Parker."

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm hurt, guys. I really am."

You chuckled but said nothing more, allowing your three friends to carry the conversation while your mind wandered.

You tried your best to pinpoint the moment you began liking Peter as more than a friend, but your heart wasn't into it.

All you could really tell was when you became more conscious of how close you always sat with him, thighs glued to the side and elbows never coming apart. You blamed it on the lunch table crowded with other students on either side of your friend group, giving you absolutely no space for Jesus in between.

You would catch yourself staring, taking note of his mannerisms and how his light brown hair always seemed to bounce whenever his head moved. You decided you noticed those things because of how long you've been friends with him.

You realized you always watched for his reaction first before seeing the others' after you said something funny, but you told yourself it was only because you valued his opinion the most.

You tried taking note of his flaws in hopes that it would get rid of whatever those feelings were. His hands were always clammy, his backpack was so big that you weren't sure how he didn't topple over when it was on his back, and sometimes he'd spit a little when he talked a lot. (For some reason, those things didn't push you away like you wanted.)

You felt a kick from under the table, bringing you back to the cafeteria. You looked up to be met with Michelle's glare, who signaled you to check your phone. Reaching into your pocket, you took your phone out and looked at the screen under the table.

Michael Jackson: if u keep staring at peter then he might actually notice for once

You gave MJ a look, who was the one who sent the text, and put your phone away. You didn't realize you'd been mindlessly eating until you felt full. You slid your food to Peter, who began eating the rest of it without second thought. (He always ate his lunch first then whatever you couldn't finish as well.) Routine.

Before you could actively participate in the conversation, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

The four of you rose from the long table, gathering your trash to throw it away. You slouched over to grab your bag from where you put it.

"Here ya go," Peter said from behind.

You turned around to see him holding up your backpack for you.

"Oh, thanks," you smiled, swinging the backpack over your shoulders.

He returned the smile. "You going to your locker?"

"Like always, Pete."

"Alright," he slowly backed away. "See you in five?"

You nodded and began walking the other direction, where your locker was. Michelle followed Peter to the band room while Ned decided to accompany you on your short walk.

"Soooo, Y/N," he said suggestively. "That dance is coming up."

You groaned. "I thought the four of us were just going to sleep over at MJ's that night?"

You stopped in front of your locker, opening it to grab a textbook for one of your classes later in the day. You grabbed one of Peter's hoodies that he left in there, knowing it would be cold in the band room. (You had a locker in one side of the school while Peter had his own in the other side. You both agreed to share both, merely for convenience and nothing more.) Ned leaned on the locker next to yours, facing you.

He fiddled with his backpack straps. "You know how the school's making it a 'girls ask guys' kind of thing? Well, Michelle was thinking that maybe we should go! Like, she'll ask me and you can ask Peter—"

You raised a pointed finger at your friend. "I see what you're doing now," you accused him. You shut the locker and began walking towards the band room with Ned beside you. "I don't condone meddling, Leeds."

"But Y/N!" he said excitedly. "MJ and I know that you two like each other. You know that Peter likes you. He knows that you like him. You know that he knows that you like him. He knows that you know that he likes you. It's a win-win!"

You sighed. "You're making it sound more complicated than it actually is."

The two of you made it to the band room and Ned opened the door for both of you to walk in. You both headed to retrieve your instruments, with other students swarming by.

"You're making it actually complicated! Look, Y/N. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but," he lowered his voice, "if you don't ask Peter to the dance, then he's gonna ask you."

You froze, holding your instrument case in the air. "What?" You regained yourself and set the case down, facing Ned. "No, Ned. No. Listen. I'll tell you what I told Michelle, okay? I just want to be Peter's friend—"

"But you like him!"

"But I don't want to do anything about it. It's just a crush—it'll pass. I treasure our friendship more than having a crush that won't last forever."

Ned raised and dropped his arms exasperatedly, giving up.

Michelle popped up, seeming chipper than usual. "Hey guys, we're practicing for contest today," she said. "What're you talking about?"

"It's not gonna happen, MJ," Ned sighed. He grabbed his instrument and trudged away, leaving you two alone since the rest of the students seem to have gone in their respective practice rooms already.

Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared at you, her attitude changing back to normal. "Why not, Y/N? Are you scared or something?"

You sighed. You turned around and headed the same direction Ned went, with MJ following closely behind. "No, I'm not scared. Can you guys please stop meddling? I just don't want anything to happen, and that's it."

The two of you stopped in front of your designated practice room, the door closed. You peeked through the small window in the door, seeing the boys were already in there, oblivious to you and MJ on the other side.

"Why not?" Michelle asked. "You'll regret not ever knowing what could have been—"

"No, that's the thing," you interjected. You were tired of hearing these talks about Peter, and it was beginning to show. "I know that I won't regret it. I can daydream about 'could-have-beens' with Peter all my life, and I'll be fine with that. I don't want to lose him, and if that means that I can't be with him romantically, then that's what I'm gonna do. Having a crush is always temporary, Michelle. Peter's the kind of person that I want permanently in my life. Do you know what I mean now?"

She stared at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes, like she could see right through your words. See what, you weren't sure. After a skeptical moment, she took a breath, surrendering. "Alright, fine. I'll let him know that."

You took a breath of relief. "Thank you."

Michelle turned to open the door to the practice room, Ned and Peter welcoming the two of you in.

The practice room was small with the four of you and your instruments in it, meaning you'd be in close quarters with them—Peter specifically.

It was easy to pretend your feelings for Peter weren't there. It was easy to act like yourself despite the elephant in the room. Before the complications, you and Peter were glued together, so why treat him differently now?

Maybe you noticed him noticing you, watching your moves when you pretended you couldn't see where his line of sight was directed. Maybe you took note of him flinching back whenever you accidentally brushed against him, and how the sweat from his palms were more prominent on his instrument.

But it was easier to ignore those things, which is what made it easier for you to act like it never happened in the first place.

Sophomore Year

You weren't usually one to gloat, but damn it you were right about the situation with Peter and you told yourself that you should be happy about it.

Crushes were always temporary. Friendship could last forever.

Could.

Michelle and Ned eventually stopped bringing it up freshman year, and you figured Peter eventually stopped liking you as well.

The whole ordeal wasn't something any of you talked about, an unsaid truth never to be spoken. You refused to even think about those weird few months and how you felt during that time. You told yourself that having a mutual crush on your best friend wasn't something to think about.

You were just glad that you weren't the center of Peter's attention anymore. You knew this was true, mainly because his attention drifted to Liz Allen. The intelligent, breathtaking, lucky girl: Liz Allen.

Besides Peter's obvious crush on her, nothing changed.

"If you three weren't my only friends at this school," MJ said, "I'd stop eating lunch with you guys."

You followed her out of the lunch line after paying, just like the normal routine since last year. The two of you began walking across the cafeteria and towards the same table you've always sat at, with Ned and Peter already there. (The only difference nowadays was Peter sat next to Ned, and you and MJ sat across from them, so Peter could helplessly drool over Liz across the lunch room.)

You chuckled. "Me too, I think. . . It's because of Peter, huh?"

She groaned. "Duh. All he does is gush about her."

You laughed as you sat down next to Michelle, having finally made it to the table. Before even being able to look at your food, Peter began talking.

"She straightened her hair today, guys! She looks so different but still. . . so good."

Ned followed where Peter's eyes were, seeing it was true. Michelle faked a gag, which only you noticed.

The two of you ate your food in silence, which was something different compared to before Liz came in the picture. Peter also stopped bringing you fruit snacks and eating the food that you couldn't finish, as well as denying to take chocolate milk and apple sauce from you.

Sometimes you'd catch yourself missing those little things, but you told yourself it was only because of the change in what used to be normal. Before, normal was getting squished next to Peter and enjoying it, oddly realizing the days he switched between his cologne, and endless banter between the four of you. Now, normal was having to think of what to say to strike a conversation with him, rolling your eyes at his comments on Liz, and being vaguely aware of the few times he looked your way.

You would find yourself hurting, and you'd have to correct your thoughts and say it was only missing the past. There was no use in feeling sorry for yourself, though. Things happen, feelings change, and that was that. You were still friends with Peter in one way or another, and that's what you wanted, so clearly you had to be happy about things going your way.

"You guys are losers," Michelle told the boys, who were still fawning over the senior girl in the cafeteria.

Peter didn't seem to hear her, (he didn't seem to hear anything you and MJ said, nowadays), but Ned shrugged. "You're still friends with us," he replied.

That was true. You were still friends and that's what mattered. It was weird having to remind yourself of that fact, but it was still that: a fact.

"Hey, Y/N?" Peter spoke out of nowhere.

His voice fazed you. It was odd hearing him say your name now, especially after realizing he used to say it almost as often as he breathed.

"You know about girls, right?"

You and Michelle shared a glance, knowing where this was headed.

"I mean, I am a girl, so yeah," you said. You looked at him, but his eyes never seemed to have left the special girl seated somewhere behind you. You paid no mind to it, your eyes going over how his head was dreamily rested on his hand.

"Okay, so," he began. "Hypothetically speaking. . . If you're a senior, would you date a guy that's a sophomore?"

You rolled your eyes, but decided to mess with Peter. "Well, what's the guy like?"

Michelle snorted.

"He's, uhm. . . He's pretty smart. Really nice, I think—"

"He's a cutie!" Ned chimed in.

You shrugged. "Well, if that's all he has going for him. . ."

"No!" Peter retaliated. "He's really cool, and uh, thinks you're pretty! Yeah, you're pretty."

You felt your face heat up and you were glad that none of your friends were looking at you for once.

You were warned that the people you walk into high school with would never be the people you'd walk out of high school with. People grew apart and that was life, apparently. You didn't think those warnings would actually apply to you, though. You thought the four of you were too strong together to separate.

By the time sophomore year was halfway done, you were proved dearly wrong.

You thought Liz would be the only strain on your friendship with Peter, but his behavior drastically changed out of nowhere then suddenly he got an internship with Stark Enterprises. Peter was one of the smartest people you ever met, so you weren't surprised. If anything, the real surprise was he not only quit the only class he had with you—which was music—but he stopped even trying to talk to you.

You and Michelle decided to stop sitting with Peter and Ned during lunch.

"There he goes again," Michelle pointed.

You followed her gaze and saw that Peter was fawning over Liz again, which was weird considering he rarely showed up during lunch anymore.

It hurt. You knew that now. Missing Peter wasn't something you'd expect to feel, but lately? It's all you've felt.

You didn't have to miss MJ or Ned, because you still saw them and talked to them regularly. It was only Peter. Always Peter freaking Parker.

Maybe you took him for granted. You'd never thought that there'd come a day that you'd stop sharing food, sharing classes, sharing a conversation.

"No point in regretting it," you said aloud.

It was more for yourself than to Michelle. You made your decision on who Peter was to you, so it would only be a waste of time in wondering who he could have been.

Junior Year

Something changed sophomore year. Ned told you that Peter ditched the academic decathlon which resulted in him getting detention. That was something you never expected to hear, considering Peter was the perfect example of Midtown High's star student.

The beginning of junior year, you saw him in music. He stayed this time.

He seemed to be taking advantage of "conveniently" getting the same class like before. He made a point to talk to you again—during class and lunch—and it was like he never ditched you and MJ.

"Oh my God," you rolled your eyes. You aggressively turned your body to face Peter who sat beside you. "You just want to win! You're not even right!"

He looked at Ned and MJ sat in front of you two for help, but they only stared back with clear amusement. (The four of you assumed your usual seats from freshman year, so you would always get squished against Peter's side at lunch again.)

"It doesn't matter if I'm right!" he exclaimed with big hand gestures. "A debate is a debate! You could be right—I'm not saying you are—but I'm just better at debating than you."

Ned did a terrible job at hiding his laughter from the argument you were having with Peter.

This was something that you were happy you had the chance of getting used to again—not that you'd ever tell Peter that. As soon as the school year began and all of you sat together, not so playful yelling was all that accompanied the lunch table.

The dorky boy loved proving himself right, and you loved proving people wrong. As soon as the second week of sharing lunch in the cafeteria passed by, it would have been weird not to bicker with him like before.

Michelle slammed her book closed, startling the three of you to silence. "Look," she said, giving you and Peter a death glare. "Y/N, Peter has some good points—all only technical, but still good."

Peter thanked her and you huffed, upset MJ wasn't on your side.

"Shut up, Peter," she said. "Peter, Y/N's still right, and you're just gross."

"Ha!" you yelled, then rose from the table's bench and reached over to high-five Ned. (You were sure he'd side with either of you, but it was the thought that counts.)

Peter scoffed. "It's not that gross," he said, refusing to take Michelle's answer. "If you were on a deserted island with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and no microwave, it would still be safe to eat them—"

"The directions say to microwave them for a reason, Peter!" you interrupted.

"It's already cooked!" he brought up, which was something he pointed out earlier in the conversation. "It's cooked before it's frozen, then you can just warm it up in the microwave—but that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Y'know what, fine," you said, slamming your hands down on top of the lunch table. "You can eat frozen chicken nuggets all you want, Peter. But I am going to warm mine up in the microwave like everybody else. And if you get some weird disease, don't come crying to me because I was right—"

"I won't come crying back to you! Because I'm still right!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch before you could put another word in. The four of you immediately rose, with MJ and Ned heading straight to the band room.

You reached down for your backpack, only not to find it where you left it. Turning around, Peter held it in the air for you to shrug on. Just like before.

The two of you silently walked side by side to your locker so you could switch out textbooks and get one of Peter's sweaters that he always "forgot" in there.

"How's that one guy doing?" Peter asked, one hand in his jean pocket with the other gripping his backpack strap.

You shrugged, opening your locker. He leaned against the locker next to yours, staring you down with his usual grin.

You'd be damned if you didn't say puberty was doing Parker well. You wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't ditched you last school year, but he definitely got. . . toned, to say the least. He also learned how to use hair gel and walked around school with clothes that seemed to make him more confident.

You cleared the thoughts away. Those things were only noticeable because you were friends with him. Obviously.

"You mean Carlos?" you replied. You reached into the locker and sorted out what you needed to.

Peter nodded then grabbed the textbooks you had in your arms. You shut the locker and the two of you began your walk to the band room.

"I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me, which was nice," you told your friend. "But he stopped talking to me out of nowhere and hasn't even opened my messages since."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Here, lemme see the messages."

Before you could reach in your back pocket for your phone, Peter beat you to it with his free hand. He unlocked it and went to the messages. While reading it, he chuckled.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, amused. "That's why he stopped replying! You called him 'dude!'"

You gave him a shocked look. "So what? I call everyone dude."

Making it to the band room, you opened the door and followed Peter in. He spoke while the two of you set down your belongings. "You friend-zoned him."

You scoffed. "I did not!"

He gave you a look. "Y/N. I've been friend-zoned enough times to know when somebody else is getting friend-zoned."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to get yours and Peter's instruments, but something felt off about what he said. You didn't really care about talking to Carlos, but what Peter said felt like it was partially directed to you. You didn't blame him, because you technically did friend-zone him. . . but that was two years ago! Clearly he let it go by now, because you definitely did.

Senior Year

You and Michelle stumbled inside her home, waving a goodbye to Peter—who dropped you two off—before shutting the front door.

"Dude," you turned to her. She looked at you with glazed eyes, but was still able to keep her focus. You continued, "I am so gone."

Both of you giggled, leaning on each other to take off your shoes and put aside your bags. MJ led you to a couch, retrieved water from the kitchen, then sat next to you. She chugged the water down with a hand clearly steadier than yours. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, but she looked put together for the most part.

You shrugged lazily, taking a sip of your water. "You've seen me smoke," you said to her. "I've been. . . chill, buzzed, whatever. But right now? I am high." Laughter interrupted whatever you could have said next, though you weren't sure if you had anything to say.

She laughed with you, still clearly having a good time despite being more sober. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Like," you looked around the room, searching for the right set of words. "I haven't been this high in a while. . . Like, you've never seen me this gone."

"Ooh," she rubbed her hands together comically. "I'm excited."

You rubbed your eye, forgetting the makeup you had on. "Why?"

"Because!" she chirped up. "You know what they say? Drunk words are sober thoughts. Well, high words too, maybe."

You shook your head with a smile before drinking more water. You didn't mind letting loose with Michelle; you trusted her, which was why you smoked as much as you did in the first place. You were comfortable enough to allow her to see this side of you, even if there was the chance you might not remember any of it in the morning.

You helped each other up the stairs, having decided you should at least take off your makeup and change your clothes. (Thank God her parents weren't coming home that night.) By the time you both finished, you were seated comfortably on the couch once again, this time underneath one large blanket and with the television playing late night cartoons in front of you. A single lamp as well as the TV were your only light sources, which kept the living room in a dim glow.

"Can I be honest?" you spoke over the cartoons, startling Michelle. Neither of you were sobering up at all, but that fact didn't stop anything.

She nodded and turned off the TV. MJ turned to completely face you, giving you her attention. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

You began rambling without hesitation. "You know how Peter was at the game? Well, of course he was. He had to be because the band was playing for the football team and he's in band. . . But anyways, I didn't talk to him at all—he always seemed busy with somebody else—but I couldn't stop. . . I don't know. I caught myself looking for him a lot, like, to see if he moved around the bleachers or something."

Michelle nodded, allowing you to continue.

"Okay, well. . . I don't know, dude," you continued. "You remember how we had crushes on each other freshman year? Well—I don't think I have a crush on him, I swear—but I feel something. . . It's weird. He's one of my best friends but I know there's something stronger there."

She looked around the room thoughtfully, searching for a reply. "What do you feel?"

It was hard to think clearly and how to explain yourself; the only word that stayed in your head the entire time was his name. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You began rambling. As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly forgot what they were, but that didn't stop you from talking. "Michelle, it's so weird. I've never really told you this but, remember when he had a crush on Liz? And when he ditched us for a while after that? I—I think I missed him. And not just as a friend. You know what, I don't know."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You shook your hands in the air as if you could shoo your thoughts away.

You continued. "I care about him as a friend and stuff, but I don't think how I've felt about him is how I feel about other people, like you or Ned. It's different. Like, I don't want to lose him. I don't want him out of my life."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You sighed. "When he was gone for the whole Stark Internship thing, it felt like I really lost someone. I mean, I don't have to talk to you or Ned for days—weeks, even—and I'll be fine. But when the same thing happened with Peter? I would feel so. . . lost."

Michelle nodded, staying attentive the entire time. There was a part of you that knew she wasn't high enough to forget any of this, though you were sure you wouldn't remember much.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Peter, Peter. "What does it sound like to you? I don't know what I'm feeling is called, but it's definitely not just a friendly thing."

She stared at you for a moment, contemplating what to do next. "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with you two," she began, "but I think you should know. . . You know how you'd leave during lunch sometimes to go to the bathroom?"

You nodded, recalling the multiple occasions.

"Well," she continued. "Ned and I talked about it, and we noticed that Peter's not the same when you're gone, either. Like, he'd look so bored and would play games on his phone compared to when you're at the table and he'd never stop talking."

You imagined him doing so. "Huh."

"Yeah. . ." she said. "Let's just go to sleep, okay? Sleep on it, and I'll remind you whatever you forgot you said in the morning, alright? Then we can figure out what to do."

As soon as MJ said the word "sleep," you instantly realized how heavy your eyelids felt. You nodded at her proposal, and laid yourself down on the couch with her.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or if it was just that dark in the living room, but you were definitely thinking. You imagined the feeling of being brushed against Peter's body, whenever you sat next to each other or walked side by side in the school halls. He started driving recently, and for some reason you always got shotgun while MJ and Ned didn't hesitate to sit in the back. You could nearly feel your elbows touching when you both leaned on the console at the same time. You remembered the times he'd laugh around you, uncaring about how loud it might've been, as well as the fact that he said your name more times in one day than anybody else did in a whole month.

His absence sophomore year definitely put a strain on you. You loved Michelle and Ned to bits, but you were pretty sure you might've loved Peter in a different way.

Him being out of your life for that period of time was confusing but, at the same time, clearer than looking through a window. You managed to keep tabs on him even if it meant only scrolling through his Instagram or seeing how he'd hold himself across the hall. You knew then that you cared about that boy more than you ever cared for anyone else.

You were terrified of you two becoming more than friends because that meant you had a chance of it ending badly and never talking to him again. Staying friends meant staying safe.

It meant that you had more of a chance of him being with you, which is what you knew you always wanted. You knew you'd be happy, crush or not, as long as Peter was in your life the rest of the way.

Is that what it feels like to love?

You nervously rubbed your hands together, which gained odd looks from other students due to the warm New York weather. It was a few months after that fated night with Michelle, the day of the senior field trip. The entire senior class got to go into the city and do whatever they wanted for an entire school day.

Michelle coolly stood beside you, her hands in both her jacket pockets. "I'm excited," she admitted.

You squinted at her. "For what?"

An uncharacteristic smile broke her face. "You know! You're finally gonna confess your feelings to Parker. It's about time, honestly. Ned and I were beginning to think about calling off our deal we started freshman year—"

"Hey guys!" a voice chimed in from afar.

You gave MJ a look to stop talking about the subject, watching Ned and Peter walking towards you two.

"I am so excited," Ned said. You caught him giving Michelle a wink, which told you that she informed him of the "plan."

You would've groaned if Peter weren't standing right next to you.

"Me too!" Peter said obliviously. "I really want to check out that new pop culture museum."

A teacher announced for everyone to gather up and get inside the bus. The four of you sat in the back together, you and MJ sharing one seat while Peter and Ned were seated right in front of you.

"I'm scared of getting lost, honestly," Ned confessed a bit after the bus began moving.

Peter huffed his chest. "Don't worry, man! The internship," he winked at the three of you, "really let me get to know the city, so I'll know everywhere we go."

You and MJ rolled your eyes together. Peter had shared his secret about being Spider-Man with the two of you not too long after he got his license, only because his "spider senses were tingling" right before avoiding a crash.

"By 'everywhere' do you mean all the port-a-potty's?" you teased him.

Peter made a face. "That was one time! Ya use the bathroom once and that's when the paparazzi show up," he whispered to himself.

You were nervous for nearly the entire day due to the anticipation of confessing to Peter. It was hard figuring out when and where to do so; should you make a big deal out of it like one big crush proposal or just bring it up out of nowhere as if it were the most normal thing to say?

Decisions, decisions.

The four of you were inside the new Museum of Pop Culture, wandering around aimlessly with offhand remarks for everything in the exhibits.

"Guys," Ned said. He walked beside Michelle while you and Peter were behind. "The horror exhibit actually looks pretty scary."

You peeked through the glass doors, the exhibit on the other side. All you could see was red glowing from the ceiling, which did make Ned seem correct.

"Never fear," Peter whispered to the three of you. "Spider-Man is here."

Your group walked through the doors, instantly being met by speakers blasting screams and haunting music. The red lights from above were your only source of light, leading the way deeper into the exhibit.

"Oh," MJ said softly. "Y/N, don't look up."

Not many things scared you, but you knew that Michelle was well aware of what did.

Trusting her, you instinctively gripped onto Peter's upper arm and watched your feet move on the ground. You noticed he instantly tensed at the contact, his bicep tougher with your fingers barely able to wrap around it.

"It's alright, Y/N," Peter said, looking up to see what MJ was talking about. "It's not even that ba—ohmygod we're not walking that way."

He redirected you to the left after the exhibit opened up into a large room. You heard Ned and Michelle chuckle at Peter, who allowed the two of you to move in front of them.

"Dude," you heard Ned from behind. "It's just a bunch of hanging bodies wrapped like. . . mummies?"

Knowing you were well past whatever MJ told you not to look at, you raised your head and took in your surroundings.

"Oh," you said. "It's not that bad."

You looked to the right side of the room where Peter made a point not to cross and saw what Ned was talking about. You laughed, letting go of Peter's arm. "You call yourself Spider-Man? It's not even that scary."

All of you stopped and stood with one of the walls behind you, scoping out the exhibit.

"That's the one thing I don't like!" Peter complained.

Michelle walked over to the small area of fake bodies hanging from the ceiling, all of them covered with cloth and net. She poked it.

"It's fake, you dork," she said.

You and Ned followed her and saw the bodies made a maze, leading to an explanation on what movie that section was about. The three of you taunted Peter, walking into the maze.

The brunette puffed his chest. "Yeah, whatever."

He was last to go inside, the rest of you well ahead. There was a line of bodies between you and him, so you pushed the one closest to him.

Peter screeched.

"One thing!" he screamed. "That is the one single thing! I hate you guys!"

The rest of you broke out into laughter.

You were all seated in a McDonald's booth, leisurely eating your shared meals. You had assumed the same seating as you always did for lunch at Midtown.

You felt a kick from under the table. Looking up, Michelle gave you a pointed look.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she announced.

She scooted out of the booth and stood up.

"Oh yeah, me too." Ned said.

The two of them walked towards the back of the fast food restaurant.

So this was it.

How the hell were you going to do it? You didn't even know if Peter had any feelings more than platonic for you. What if all he felt was platonic? You would make things awkward, ruin your friendship, waste all that time for the past four years being one of his best friends for something non-mutual.

You could hear your heart beating through your eardrums. Your hand shook a little every time you raised a fry to your mouth.

You were terrified. You weren't sure if confessing would even be worth it. In a few months, high school would be over. You'd have no good reason to see any of your friends everyday again, nonetheless Peter by himself.

Maybe you've just been overthinking everything. It wouldn't have been hard to believe that your feelings came only from convenience of going to the same school, having the same class, eating at the same table.

You cared for him, but maybe that was all there was. It could just be an unconditional love, like loving a brother.

You shook your head at yourself. That wasn't it; you definitely did not think of Peter as a brother. Even a little graze against him made your senses go wild. Every time you had eye contact with him, you'd force yourself not to look away despite thinking he'd always have been able to look straight into your soul and know what you felt.

You always knew what he would say if he saw you do something stupid, and you were always excited to hear what he'd think about something that happened to you when he wasn't there. You'd be able to recognize his laugh a mile away, and being the cause of his smile made you feel light.

You knew he'd tell you the truth on which shirt looked better with which jeans and not just say you looked good no matter what. He'd make sure to take stray lint out of your hair and point out if you had something in your teeth.

You've had short crushes on other people, and you even dated some of them for an amount of time. They never made you feel the same way Peter did.

You remembered the feelings you had when you found out he went to homecoming with Liz Allen sophomore year. When you learned of his crush on her, it was a dull ache. But when you even saw them at the dance together? It pierced.

But you were still able to get back to the groove of your feelings after that.

Yeah, you might've been in love with Peter Parker. What took you four years to realize that?

"Hey, Y/N?"

Your head jerked up and you looked at him beside you. God, what were you going to do? Could you bring yourself to say it?

Shut up,you thought to yourself. Eventually, it'll be too late. Say it now.

Peter continued talking after you stayed silent.

"I know this is really out of the blue," he said. He put down the burger in his hands and faced you completely. "But I just want to say thank you for everything. We're gonna be graduating pretty soon and. . . I don't know. I just really appreciate you—and MJ and Ned—for sticking around."

You nodded your head, urging him to continue, nervous to hear what he had to say next.

"Things were really weird after I got bit by the spider and I still feel like shit for ditching you guys for a while. . . But thanks for letting me come back. I couldn't have ever imagined getting better people in my life than you three. Even if we go across the country for college or something, I really hope we can all stay friends. I love you guys, you know."

Oh.

You smiled at him like he did to you. Friends.

You cleared your throat. "I love you too, Pete."

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