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rayslittlekitten · 3 years

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You Got This - Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first if you haven't.

Plot: After having a heart to heart, you and Jax re-live your youth.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! Reader

Contains: a lot of fluff and fluffy sex, also a shit ton of Jax smoking porn, and you see his butt 🙃

A/N: Thank you Anon for this request. I hope you and the other readers enjoy this (if not more) than the first part. This took me longer than I expected to write this, but it's finally done. I kept going back and forth on trying to decide what to include and what not to. Also, had I known I was going to be writing a part two for this, the beginning of this would have been at the end of part one, but hindsight is 20/20. I actually did already write out most of the beginning but decided to leave it out of part one because I thought where I left it was a good place to end it. I also thought about eliminating it completely but I really like the interaction that happens with Gemma. To me it's like a beauty shot. Is it necessary and does it move the story along at all? Not quite, but it looks good so let's just leave it in there anyways. Also to squeeze a little bit more angst out of Jax.

Also, I had a bit of trouble writing this as well because as strange as this sounds, I couldn't find the perfect song to pair with this. Sometimes I need music to help me get into the mindset and mood. I was going for like a nostalgic summer love kinda thing. I had actually thought to use a song form the mid-90s because to really make it feel nostalgic and Shanice's "Saving Forever For You" was the winner for that but I decided it was not right for this. Maybe their actual first time, yes. Then it was a toss up between "Honey Whiskey" by Satica and "Take Me Away" by Sinead Harnett/EARTHGANG and the latter won given the situation. I'd recommend giving it a listen below (or any of the songs listed) to get the mood I was going for while writing the sex scene. I really thank you for reading my ramblings if you've gotten this far. I just want to give the readers the best experience to my stories and how it was intended when I wrote it.

A loud commotion outside interrupts the moment and you both realize you need to get dressed before someone finds the both of you. He pulls out of you and you both quickly get yourselves together. You hop into the bathroom inside the bedroom to clean yourself up. When you walk out, you see Jax sitting on the bed smoking a cigarette with all his clothes and hair in place, like he had been sitting there this whole time and didn't move from his spot when you first walked in. He glances over to you and you're reminded of how his handsome charming face is something you miss so much.

"I should probably go before someone starts looking for either of us." You walk out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Jax grabs your hand and pulls you back to him.

"Hey." He stands up, cups your face and looks at you. "It's really good to see you again."

Suddenly you both hear the door knob rattling and then a knock following it.

"Jax, are you in there, honey?" You both hear Gemma on the other side of the door.

You both separate and smooth yourselves out and Jax walks over to open the door.

"Honey, what are you doing in here? Tara--" Gemma's facial expression shifts when she spots you. She looks at the both of you suspiciously. You both thought you were so slick when you were younger but if there was anyone who knew what you both were up to, it would be Gemma. Nothing slips past her. In fact, she’s always secretly hoped you two would get together. You were born into SAMCRO, making you MC royalty. The Princess of Charming.

"Oh, I didn't know you were in here too. I'm very sorry about Opie, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Gemma." You walk closer to the door and Gemma pulls you in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's your fiancé?" Gemma asks curiously.

"Fiancé?" Jax glances over at you.

"I came by myself this time," you answer. "We're kind of on a break." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm sorry to hear that too. Must be one hell of a break." Gemma's knowing eyes are boring a hole into you. "Lyla tells me you're staying a while?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna help her out with the kids for a week or so until she can figure it out. I know you and the club will be a big help, but with everything going on, I think her and the kids can use another familiar face."

"Family is important and I'm very happy to see you here." Gemma's eyes shift to Jax with the same knowing look she gave you. "Well, whenever you're ready, Tara's looking for you."

"Thanks, mom." Jax runs his hand over the top of his hair. Gemma glances at you both again once more before she walks away.

You start making your way out the door when Jax pulls you back in.

"You're engaged?" Jax asks with wide eyes.

"Was," you reply.

"Was it to that pretentious English prick you brought back with you last time?" Jax snarls.

"Ray is a good guy and he treats me really well. We're just going through a bit of a rough patch right now," you tell him. "Also, the last I heard, you're married with two children, Teller."

Jax just looks at you, knowing he has no right to be upset about you being with another man.

"And I believe your wife is looking for you," you say before walking away from him as you see your nephews and niece running up to you. "Hey guys!"

Jax takes a drag of his cigarette while he continues watching you as you kneel down to greet the kids.

A few days later...

The sun is beginning to set and Jax is at the clubhouse. Most of the people have already left. He needs some quiet and alone time after spending a few days earlier in the week not just watching his best friend get killed, but also saying goodbye and laying him to rest. He climbs up the ladder onto the roof of the clubhouse, one of his favorite places to think and reflect quietly while smoking. What he didn't expect to find is someone else had beat him to the spot.

"I didn't know you were here," Jax says as he walks over and sits next to them. "You've been avoiding me like the plague all week."

"I miss watching the sunset," you reply without looking at him.

"The sun doesn't set where you are?" Jax asks as he lights up a joint.

"It's not the same."

Jax takes a long drag and then offers it to you.

You look at it for a moment and form a small smile before taking it from him. The roof was also a place you both frequented in your youth to smoke pot, away from your parents and the adults. Eventually they figured out your secret spot, but it didn't stop you guys from coming back. You take a pull and hand it back to him.

"I also miss this. There is nothing like California-grown weed."

Jax takes a hit and blows out the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you ever miss me?" Jax looks over at you and passes the joint back to you.

You look over to him and squint an eye to prevent the sun from blinding you.

"Yeah, sometimes I do."

"Does your English weed taste like fucking tea and crumpets?" Jax jokes.

"Oh, I get the best shit there is over there. Trust me." You chuckle. "But... it's not home."

"So why don't you come home?" Jax looks back at you with the same squinty face.

You look at him for a moment deciding what you want to say. "You know, that's the reason why Ray and I put the engagement on hold. With everything happening here, I wanted to be closer to family. Figure my shit out." You take another drag and return the joint back to him.

"There's more than family that would love to see you back home too." Jax reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

"Jackson, what happened the other day, we both acted out of impulse. We were both just... vulnerable. I'm sorry if it gave the wrong impression."

Jax shakes his head, then takes another long pull of the joint. “Ope was like my moral compass, kept me grounded and always pointed me in the right direction, and now he's gone, because of me."

"Jackson, you can't--" You start shaking your head.

"You’re the closest thing I have left of Ope. I need you." Jax holds your hand.

"Jackson, in your heart, you always knew what was best. You don't need me." You push a loose chunk of his blonde hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear. "I know you're hurting, but I can't fill the void that Opie left. Nothing ever will. Just focus on what's important to you and you'll figure it out. You always did." You smile at him while caressing his cheek with your thumb. "You got this." He closes his eyes and leans in to your hand, soaking in your touch.

"You still have too much faith me." He turns his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, maybe. Besides, our boat sailed a long time ago," you add, pulling your hands away from him and looking away. Jax takes the last drag of the joint and tosses it off the roof.

"Maybe that boat can make one last stop before sailing away for good?" Jax gently grabs your chin and turns your head to him to look into his slightly droopy eyes.

Even all this time, it's still hard to not get lost in his baby blues. It's even harder with the perfect setting: the firey orange sky, the slight California breeze, the clubhouse rooftop. Maybe it's the weed, but it feels perfect in the moment. It's all taking you back to the summer when you were 14, when the only care in your worlds were right in front of each other. It's also the perfect setting for cruising around. Jax use to "borrow" one of the bikes from the clubhouse and take you on joyrides, basking in the sun while the wind hits your faces.

He slowly leans into you, and you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. Jax immediately responds and kisses back, his tongue slipping between your teeth. You can taste whiskey mixed with a faint linger of cigarettes and marijuana. Jax cradles your neck and pulls you in closer to him.

The loud roar of a motorcycle driving by and backfiring breaks you up. You both are brought back to reality that you are both still on a rooftop and a bit baked.

"Come on, let's get inside." Jax jerks his head towards the latch. Jax helps you down the ladder first and he follows behind. He quickly makes a sweep and doesn't see anyone except for a few guys at the bar with their back turned towards the both of you. Jax grabs your hand and leads you back into the spare bedroom you both were in earlier in the week. This definitely feels like you both are hormone-driven teenagers again, sneaking around the clubhouse.

Once Jax closes and locks the door, he turns his attention back to you but he stops in his tracks to really look at you. All of you. He never thought he'd ever be with you or see you like this again. What happened the other day was different. Like you said, it was a moment of weakness, an impulsive move on both of you because of shared pain.

This time, there is no urgency, there is no hurt, just the two of you re-living a moment the two of you wish you had the opportunity to experience over and over again. This time it's intentionally and purely for the most selfish reasons. He walks over to you and presses his lips onto yours, taking his time to actually taste and feel your soft lips on his. He pulls you in close to his body as his hands explore yours.

As the both of you continue to deliberately and slowly make out, Jax grabs your ass and presses himself against you, feeling his erection through your clothes. Jax pushes you backward towards the bed and you fall back when you feel the edge hit the back of your knees. He falls on top of you and expertly starts disrobing you while making out with you. In one quick swift, Jax pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you in a satin black bra. He takes his time with you, starting with his lips on your neck, licking and kissing it, even nibbling at it. He's always wanted to leave a hickey on you, letting all the guys know you're taken. He then makes his way down to your collar bone, the top of your chest and then pulls down your bra on one side to reveal a nipple. He puts his mouth over it and swirls his tongue around it. Jax looks up to see your reaction and find you looking back biting your lower lip. He smirks and pulls down the other side of your bra and gives that nipple the same attention, making you arch against his mouth.

"Oh, Jackson," you moan.

He lets out a low growl.

"As much as I want to hear all the sexy noises coming out of your mouth while I'm pleasuring you, you gotta keep it quiet, darlin'." He kisses you while he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. He then unbuttons your pants and backs himself off the bed. He slowly slides your pants and thong off your hips and down your legs. He licks his lips, excited to unwrap you like his present. You watch him as he lowers himself to his knees and kneels at your feet to help you with your boots and removes the rest of the clothes off your body. Suddenly feeling a bit exposed and shy like it's your first time with Jax, you keep your legs together. Jax places his hands on each of your knees and coaxes them open. He looks at his gift and licks his lips.

He dives in between your legs while looking up at you. His soft lips and warm wet tongue are licking and sucking you on all the right places and his beard tickling your inner thighs. That's new to you. He barely had peach fuzz in his teens. You feel him slip a finger inside you as his lips are pulling at your clit. Your breathing is getting shorter and more shallow. Jax inserts another long finger in you and finds your g-spot, rubbing circles on it.

"Jax, I..." Feeling your orgasm building, you are rendered speechless. Jax continues sucking and stroking you until you come undone into his mouth and on his fingers. He watches you squirm and thrash as you scream quietly in ecstasy. He doesn't stop until you are sensitive to his touch and you push him away. He wipes his beard and smiles at you, proud of his accomplishment. Jax surely still knows his way around your body.

You glance up to him as he gets to his feet. You watch him strip his clothes off, first the kutte, then his shirt pulled over his head. He kicks off his sneakers as he takes his time unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. You're glad he's taking his time though because it allows you to soak up and remember every second you have with this gorgeous man in front of you. He finally pulls his jeans and boxers down. Besides from the other day, the last time you and him were this intimate, the both of you were shorter, slimmer and clearly less experienced. Now you’re both grown, gained curves and muscles and are far more seasoned in the bedroom. He's also certainly grown in other places as well.

"Back up," Jax nods his head as he climbs onto the bed and hovers above you. You scoot back so your whole body is on the bed. Jax lays on top of you and smashes his lips against yours again, cradling your neck and grinding against you. You can feel the head of cock teasing your opening.

"Maybe we should use a condom this time," you tell him in between kisses.

"I'm not gonna lie. You did feel amazing without one the other day," Jax admits.

You and Jax had always been careful and taking the right steps when you were younger, using condoms at all times so that time was the first time you both had sex without one. Thankfully you are on birth control and both are STD-free, but you know you shouldn't take any chances.

You give him a knowing look.

"Anything for you, darlin'." Jax gives you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to put on a condom. He climbs back on top of you and looks at you as he caresses your face, still not believing that you're beneath him.

You gently grab his face with both hands and kiss him deeply. You then feel him slip inside you. All of him. You moan into his mouth and move with him, both of your hips slowly thrusting in unison. Jax grabs your hands and brings them above your head. He intertwines his fingers with yours and thrusts deeper into you. He watches you while you relish in the moment, as he pulls these lost emotions from you with each deliberate push. You wrap your legs around his waist and it encourages him to pick up the pace. You try to do the same and meet his rhythm.

Jax releases your hands and reaches for your legs behind him and brings them in front of him to rest on his shoulders, deepening his access to you. His hand reaches up to cradle your neck as he pounds into you. You then feel his thumb slide over the front of your throat. You start to feel his fingers tighten slightly around your neck. This is also new for you and Jax, but you're loving it. You can feel yourself getting closer to achieving another orgasm.

"Jackson..." you pant.

"Come for me, darlin'. I know you're there," Jax grunts.

You close your eyes and feel bliss as you let yourself go, letting your body take over you. After your orgasm subsides, you open your eyes and find Jax is no longer making love to you, but just smiling at you while still inside you. Now it's time for you to show him a few tricks you've learned.

"Get on your back," you tell him.

Without any protest from Jax, you both switch positions. Jax lies on his back with this hands behind his head, waiting for you to take the wheel. You straddle him and take your time sinking yourself onto him. You feel a lot more confident about being on top than you did when you were younger. You were shy and inexperienced. Now? You're going to ride him like the sexiest Harley you've ever had the privilege of sitting on. You slowly start riding him, rocking back and forth, grinding on him and teasing him. You enjoy the feeling of him filling you up to the hilt as you push down on him.

Jax looks up at you, watching you take charge and own his dick. He definitely notices you're a lot more comfortable in this position than he remembers. He reaches up and runs his hands over your breasts, massaging them and caressing your nipples as you enjoy the ride. He's certainly enjoying the view.

"You are still as fucking beautiful as the day I fell in love with you," Jax says, mesmerized by the image in front of him.

You smile and then lean back, placing your hands behind you on his thighs. Jax looks at you curiously. You roll your hips and start sliding up and down on him, giving him a clear view. He looks down and watches himself disappear in and out of you.

Jax groans and runs the palms of his hands over your thighs and settles on your hips. One of his hands then slides over between your legs and he starts rubbing circles on your clit with this thumb. You moan and gasp. You then lean forward, placing your hands on the pillow of each side of his head and lean down closer to him. You start bouncing your ass up and down as you look down on him, your hair forming a curtain around your faces. Jax grabs your ass and starts thrusting up to meet your movement. The only sounds echoing in the room are your pants and your bodies slapping against each other. Jax speeds up and watches your face as it distorts. He knows you've got another one inside you and you're very close.

"Come on, darlin'. Let it go." Jax coos.

You let out a loud moan as your legs shake and feel like a firecracker exploded inside of you. Jax clamps a hand over your mouth as he continues to drill inside.

"There you go, Y/N." Jax smiles watching you fall apart on top of him. He then swiftly flips you onto your back and roughly drives into you a few more times until he finally gets his own release.

As he slows down, you both look at each other, savoring the moment and then kiss softly.

Suddenly the door knob starts to rattle and the person on the other side is banging on the door.

"Yo, hurry it up! I gotta take a shit!" an unrecognizable voice shouts.

"Hey asshole, the bathroom is further down!" You both hear Chibs shouting. You place your hands over your mouth as you start to laugh.

"Shh!" Jax puts a finger over his pursed lips as he tries to suppress his own laughter.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

A/N: I never put notes at the end but I figured I'd let you enjoy the fic first before mentioning I currently don't have plans to expand this story. I might in the future, but not in the near future. I originally intended the first part to be short and be a one off, but I just kept writing and writing and there were so many places and opportunities to keep expanding. Same for part two. There were so many directions I could have gone. I had a bit of struggle with this for some reason. It's not quite exactly how I pictured it ending but it works for what it is.

If you haven’t read it yet, I wrote two short scenes titled “Carry Me Home” and “Joyride” which are like flashbacks in this universe.

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#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #au #reimagine

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fayemarvels · 3 years

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Backseat rider

Peter Parker x fem!reader (She/her)

Inspo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wU9lOKWFG54

I tried to write this in the second person so please tell me how you like it.

Summary: Inspired by the wonderful song Backseat Rider by Sara Kays, with my little twist on it, and with a happy ending.

You and Peter have been friends for a long time, and he promised you the first ride in his car. When you come back from your Europe trip, MJ is sitting in the passenger side. The fact that you are in love with him doesn't really help.

Or: Peter promised you a ride in his car and his stupid plan fails because he is jealous.

Warnings: angst, fluff, bad writing, grammatical mistakes,

Word count: 5.1k

English isn't my first language so please don't mind the grammar and sentence structure mistakes and stuff. If you have any suggestions on how to improve my writing, please let me know.

! Please don't repost my work anywhere without my permission. Thank you!

My masterlist *******

----

9. September 2013

It was the first day of school and you were standing at a bus stop just a few blocks from your new apartment. You and your parents just moved to queens and you were starting in a new school.

With your new schoolbag which you got for your 12th birthday just 3 days ago slung over your shoulders, you tapped your foot nervously against the concrete under your newly polished shoes.

You were so excited to start 6th grade in a new school, away from the people in your old one. You were always a shy kid and some of the kids from your previous school picked on you just because of that.

The school became hell and you started making excuses as to why not to go in. At first, your parents were annoyed thinking you were just lazy. But you later opened up about your struggles and they started to take action.

But before much happened, one of your parents got a job opportunity in Queens, New York, and without much thinking, took it. When you left the school, you felt like you could finally breathe. A huge boulder fell off your shoulders and you were so excited to find some new friends and meet new people. To get a new start.

Due to the traffic, the bus came with a 7 minutes delay. And as the bus rounded the corner to arrive at the bus stop, a frazzled-looking boy came crashing into you.

Before you could crash to the ground, he caught your hand and pulled you towards him in an effort to save you from crashing into the hard ground.

“I am so so sorry, I didn’t mean to I fell asleep and burned my toast and spilled toothpaste on my shirt, and ” he took a deep breath before he continued with his rambling.

“Oh god I am so sorry, I’m rambling” He scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, truly. But I would really appreciate it if you let me go.” You said quietly and the boy’s eyes widened in horror.

“Sorry, sorry” he kept apologizing and mumbling underneath his breath.

“Please stop apologizing, nothing much happened,” You laughed lightly and he breathed out in relief.

“I’m Peter, by the way, Peter Parker,” he introduced himself more calmly. Now, that he wasn’t rambling and frantically running his hands through his hair, you could finally focus on his features. He was slightly shorter than you, with curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes that were still tinted with sleep.

“Nice to meet you Peter my name is (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced yourself and you stepped together into the bus. You looked around for two places to sit, preferably together.

“There,” Peter pointed to the back of the bus. You pushed through the crowd of people standing and made it to the seats. Peter let you sit beside the window and sat beside you.

“The public transport in new york is so horrible,” Peter whined and you raised your eyebrow.

“Is it? I just moved in like 2 weeks ago so I didn’t have much time to explore.”

“Oh, so this is your first day of a new school.” His eyes widened in realization and you nodded.

“What school are you going into?” He asked and you could see the excitement in his eyes.

“Palm tree elementary school.” You answered and Peter jumped in his seat.

“Oh my, me too, that’s so exciting, Ned will be so happy,” he squealed you smiled widely.

You talked the rest of the ride to your stop, and through the short walk to your school. This boy might just make this school much more exciting than you thought.

20. August 2019

“Okay, just wait for me outside of your apartment building I’ll come and pick you up,” Peter said into the phone and you hummed in acknowledgment.

“Okay Petey, I’ll be waiting, I missed you so much throughout the summer, I’m sorry I didn’t call” you apologized feeling guilty.

“It’s okay, I get it, I was the one to suggest it. Okay, I’m leaving, I’ll be at yours in about 10 minutes. ”

You and your family went to Europe for the majority of summer. You tried to keep in contact but of course, it was hard the time difference made it very difficult to find a time where you both can call and don’t lose sleep.

The first person to stop trying was Peter. On a rare call one night, he informed you that he didn’t want you to lose sleep just because you wanted to talk to him

“Don’t worry, you’ll tell me everything when you get back, just don’t forget to bring me souvenirs.” Peter teased and you laughed sadly. You missed him so much and the heavy feeling in your heart wouldn’t go away.

“Okay, just prepare yourself because I’ve gotten you a souvenir from every single location we went to.” You sniffled.

“Hey, don’t cry, everything will be alright nothing will change I promise.”

10 minutes later, Peter pulled up to your parking lot and your heart skipped a beat. Your smile widened and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered. This was the first time you saw Peter after a month and a half. You returned from Europe only 4 days ago so you used that time to get rid of the jet lag.

Your smile dropped when you saw a shadow sitting on the passenger side. You shook your head and moved closer to the car. Peter stepped out of the car and you flung your arms around him. He tensed for a bit before he wrapped you up in his arms and breathed in your scent.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he mumbled into your neck and you pressed your lips into his hair.

“I missed you too, for the last two weeks, my parents were a pain in the ass,” you complained and Peter laughed. Then he got serious.

“Well, at least you have parents.”

“...”

“I’m just kidding, don’t worry bug,” he giggled and you hit his shoulder lightly.

“I hate these jokes,” you complained.

“I know, that’s why I make them.” He giggled and you rolled your eyes.

“Okay. C’mon, I have my classmate MJ here, I wanted to introduce you two he stepped away and you wrapped yourself around yourself.”

Peter opened the back door for you and you thanked him. When you got into the car he closed the door behind you and quickly got into the driver seat.

“So MJ, this is (Y/N). Bug, this is MJ.” He introduced you two and you waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I heard about you so much, is so nice to meet you.” MJ greeted and you smiled.

“I would like to say the same but Peter has never talked of you,” you scratched your neck shyly and MJ waved her hand.

“It’s fine, me and Peter only started hanging out about 3 weeks ago, but we’ve gotten a lot closer.” She explained and you nodded.

“So, Peter told me you are in an art school,” Mj started and you shuffled to the edge of your seat so you could hear better.

“Yeah, I do interior design, color pallets, and furniture designs.” You explained and MJ nodded her head.

“That sounds really cool, you’ll be the first I’ll contact when I’m furnishing my house” MJ laughed and you giggled.

“Yeah sure, just give me a call,”

But then, it got quiet. You just relaxed against the seat behind you and closed your eyes for a few moments.

“So, I saw the star wars movies the other day, it was so good,” MJ exclaimed and Peter laughed out loud.

“I tried to get this lady into it but she hated it. The same with star trek.” Peter said, pointing at you.

“Yeah, I hate it so much,” you chimed in but they didn’t respond. They just continued laughing and talking without you. You couldn’t help but think that they looked so much like the two of you looked when you talked about both of your favorite things.

----

MJ sat in the passenger seat for the next five weeks. When you traveled to school, from school, or even during the weekends.

She was there every single time Peter came to pick you up. And to be honest, it hurt just a bit more every single time you saw her sitting in the front seat of his car.

-----

You and Peter were supposed to go to see the new astronomical exhibition today. You were getting ready in your room when your eyes drifted over a framed picture on your vanity table. It was taken last summer, before he got his car, before MJ. You had taken it with your Kodak disposable camera in a parking lot in front of your local Target. You remember it like it was yesterday.

21. July 2018

It was around 10 p.m. when you and Peter left the target with a plastic bag of candy and a brand new disposable camera that you found in the sale aisle. You tore the safety tape away from the box and pulled out the instruction manual.

“I’m so excited; I’ve never had any of these.” You exclaimed and Peter chuckled at your happy face, threw his arm around your shoulder, and pulled you in closer to him.

“You are going to love it, it’s so fun. Especially because you have no idea how the photos are gonna turn out.” He smiled and you nodded.

“I always watch the tiktoks of people’s reactions to the developed photos, and they always look so happy, I want to try it.” you declared and pulled the camera out of the box.

“First things first bug, just a quick info, you need a lot of lightning for the photos to turn out good,” Peter explained and you waved your hand mindlessly, messing around with your temporary camera.

You quickly pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight. You put the phone on the ground in front of him and he looked at you puzzled.

“Will you do me a favor and be the first photo on this camera’s film?” You asked him and Peter nodded, acting very posh and snobby.

“It would be an honor, my lady,” he faked a bow and you burst out laughing.

“Okay smile for me,” you giggled and Peter smiled widely. He was so beautiful. Hair messy, and a hoodie a little too big on his body, with the long sleeves making cute sweater paws.

“Come onnn take the picture so we can eat the sweets,” Peter whined and you quickly snapped the picture of him. He bent down, took your phone from the ground, and turned off the flashlight.

“Come on I even got us and your fuzzy socks so your toes won’t get cold,” he said and you hugged him from behind.

“you are the best, you know that?” you mumbled and he shrugged.

“Might’ve mentioned it a few times before” You let him go and he pulled out the blanket from his backpack.

“Come on let’s sit here,” he pulled you towards the curb a few feet away from the spot you were standing at. He sat down, wrapped his arms around your legs, and rested his face on your stomach.

“Let’s sit here and eat all these delicious candies” he looked at you with wide eyes and you dragged your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Okay Doll, let’s do this,” you teased and he blushed hard.

“Stoop you know I blush when you call me that,” he complained and you laughed softly. You gently unwrapped his arms from your legs and sat down next to him.

“So, let dig in,” you rubbed your palms together and he put the bag between you two.

“I want the Reese’s,” you said and Peter handed them to you.

----

“Smiile,” you smushed your cheek against Peter’s and he smiled into the camera. The flash had gone off and you smiled to yourself.

“I bet this one’s gonna be so good.” He said and you nodded.

“So, as I was saying, May told me that she wants to buy me a car for my 18th birthday. I don’t know how she wants to do that but I’m not complaining.” Peter gushed and you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“I’m so happy for you, you deserve it.” You smiled and Peter continued.

“I want to take you on a road trip when we finish school. All around the US. From New York to L.A,” he looked at you hopefully and you smiled at him widely.

“That sounds so good, we can go to grand canyon and Zion and so much more, Oh my God, we will need so much more of these disposable cameras. Peter, we need so much food and tents and sleeping bags and maps.” You took a deep breath before you continued.

“We should make a checklist, we should start preparing, Peter why are we sitting here?” you asked and Peter gently shushed you by putting his pointer finger on your lips.

“We still have 2 years bug, no need to overthink it, everything is gonna be fine.” He assured you and you nodded.

“Come here,” he pulled you towards him and your head landed on his chest. You snuggled into his chest and breathed in his scent.

----

You were pulled back to reality when your phone rang. It was Peter.

“Hey (Y/N), we are nearly here, only about 4 minutes.” He informed and your breath got stuck in your throat. ‘WE’. MJ is coming with you. He didn’t ask, he didn’t inform you beforehand. He just invited her.

“Ummm Pete I’m suddenly not feeling very well, I think I should go and lay down, maybe you should go alone,” you mumbled and he hummed.

“Okay, get better alright? We can go somewhere tomorrow.” He suggested and you hummed in agreement, as you couldn’t do anything else without breaking down.

“Okay (Y/N) goodnight, get well soon. I’ll see you tomorrow” He didn’t wait for your response before he hung up.

You stared at the phone as the tears cascaded down your cheeks and you put no effort into stopping them. You slowly wiped off the makeup you put on just a few moments prior and threw out the cotton pad.

You stood up from your vanity and moved over to your bed. You couldn’t understand it. What have you done wrong? Just a few months prior, Peter would drop everything to be with you when you weren’t feeling that well. Now, he didn’t even ask what was wrong.

You cursed yourself as you tried to keep your sobs at bay. You lost him and it was all your fault. If you called more often or at least texted and kept in contact during the summer, everything would be fine. He wouldn’t be in his car with someone else but with you. But the more you thought about it the more your mind betrayed you,

‘Wait, he was the one to suggest that you two would stop the contact, did he get tired of you? Did he want to get rid of you? Is he sending signals by hanging out with MJ every single time they should be hanging out alone?’ the thoughts in your brain were running around before they suddenly stopped.

“He didn’t call me bug,” you realized. He always called you bug, never (Y/N). He only called you that when he was annoyed or angry with you. You started thinking back to every single hangout you had in the past 5 weeks to see if you could stumble upon a memory where you angered or annoyed him. Nothing.

Your shoulders sagged and you put your face in your hands.

“What should I do now,” you asked yourself as you tried to remain calm and not to let any more sobs out. As you looked around your room, slowly calming down, you saw a piece of Peter’s hoodie peeking out from your closet. In a rage of fury, sadness, and anger, you quickly gathered every single piece of clothing Peter ever gave you and put them in a cardboard box.

Taking out a piece of paper, you took your favorite pen and started writing a little note for your now ‘ex’ best friend.

Dear Peter, returning your clothes, maybe you can give them to MJ, now that she is your best friend and you don’t care about me. Could’ve at least told me you didn’t want me in your life anymore, instead of sending mixed signals and hurting me by that. Fuck you. – Love, (Y/N)

You signed it with fury coursing through your veins and closed the box with duct tape. You swiped the stray tears that fell down your cheeks and threw on a hoodie.

“Going out for a few minutes!” you shouted to your parents and closed the door, before hearing their response. After putting the hood up, you opened the window to the fire escape and you threw your legs over the window sill, taking the full cardboard box with you.

“Let’s do this,” you mumbled to yourself and dropped down to the ground.

----

The walk to Peter’s apartment didn’t take long, only about 10 minutes. But the walk felt so much longer this time, maybe because this would probably be the last time you would ever make it. You started tearing up just at that thought. You didn’t think this is how it would end. Six years of friendship ended just because you were too annoying. You shook your head and continued walking; you couldn’t afford to burst into tears in the middle of the road.

You stopped in front of Peter’s apartment and let out a shaky breath. This is it. You knew May would be at work, so you let yourself in with the key, underneath their doormat. You stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind you. You rushed into Peter’s room and threw the box on his bed. You didn’t want to linger around and experience the pain of remembering all of the memories you and Peter shared in this room.

You looked around one more time, and your eyes watered when you saw your favorite t-shirt thrown over his chair. You really wanted to take it but decided to against it. ‘He can do whatever he wants’ you thought and closed the door behind you.

The walk from his apartment wasn’t much better. But it was a bit shorter than the one before. You hadn’t had much time to think this time. You just came out of his building and in a few seconds, you were laying in your bed with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Now, that you calmed down a bit and your head cleared, you laid in your bed, looking at the ceiling, face blank of any emotion. You got pulled back into reality by your phone vibrating. You sat up and moved the phone closer to your face. It was Peter.

You had 6 missed calls and 26 unread messages from the curly-haired boy. But you decided to ignore them and turned on the airplane mode. You curled up into a ball and snuggled up into your fluffy blanket. It was going to get better, you will get better, the pain will subdue, the anger will not.

You were so damn angry at him. How could he do this to you, string you along when he doesn’t want you in his life anymore? Letting a few tears slip, you let your eyelids droop and let your mind wander into the darkness of sleep.

----

“I don’t understand, what does she mean by a new best friend? What does she mean by not want her in my life anymore?” Peter asked as he paced around his room, with your note crumpled up in his right hand.

“I think you did the opposite of what you wanted to do you know?” MJ interrupted him and he looked at her horrified.

“This is all my fault, I’m the reason she feels like this,” he mumbled and continued pacing in circles.

“Remind me why you wanted to do this again?” MJ scoffed and Peter stopped to think.

“To make her jealous,” he mumbled and MJ stood up and hit him across the forehead with a rolled-up engineering magazine she found randomly thrown under his pillow.

“You are so stupid, Peter. And I can’t believe I helped you. But at least I got the cute girl’s number,” she mumbled the last part and Peter ran his shaky fingers through his hair.

“I fucked up,” he announced and MJ glared at him.

“Yeah, no shit genius. Remind me how this started again. In detail and soak in just how stupid you are,” she growled out and he got lost in the painful memory.

----

It was around 3 weeks after his best friend left for Europe, he was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram when he saw a photo she posted just 4 hours ago. He went to like it but his thumb froze before he could double-tap. It was a photo of her smiling, looking as beautiful as ever, on a beach with a sunset behind her. But it wasn’t her that made him freeze, it was the boy that was standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. She was grinning at him, her smile shining brighter than all of the stars in the night sky.

“Who the fuck are you?” Peter mumbled to himself as he looked over more of the photos in the post. As he scrolled, the pair of them only grew closer on the pictures. Them sharing a meal, them in the sea, them on a carnival with a huge green teddy bear in her arms. Just from the last picture, it was clear that the boy won the plushie in one of those shitty scam carnival games Peter couldn’t play even if he really wanted to.

But what really got him, was the post from her private Instagram, the boy from the previous photos was kissing her on the corner of her mouth. Tears gathered up in his eyes as he exited the app and ran his shaky fingers through his hair.

‘Could she have a boyfriend? But she didn’t tell me,’ his breathing got quicker and he had a sudden urge to puke. Before he could stop himself, he opened his contacts app and scrolled to find MJ’s phone number, she could help him.

“Hey, I know this is a lot to ask but I need you to help me make my best friend jealous.” Those words came from his mouth before he could even think about them.

----

“I told you before you started with this stupid plan of yours that it won’t work out,” MJ snapped him out of his mind. Peter stared into the distance before he snapped out of it.

“I need to go and see her, I need to explain,” Peter rushed out before MJ stopped him.

“You need to give her some time, she wouldn’t want to see you, and only get angry or even more upset.” She explained and Peter nodded in understatement.

“You are right, I will let her cool off for a week, and then talk to her,” Peter concluded. MJ blinked in surprise.

“Are you sure you want to give her a week? I was thinking more like 2 days, not 7,” MJ said cautiously and Peter huffed out angrily.

“God, why are you so cryptic, why can’t you just tell me and help,”

“Because this is your relationship, that is on line, not mine. And you want me to solve this for you,” MJ raised her voice and Peter rolled his eyes.

“God, this is useless” he mumbled and the girl in front of him scoffed.

“I can just leave if that’s what you want,” She stood up to leave but Peter grabbed her forearm gently.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just really anxious and I want to see her. But you are right, I shouldn’t leave her without explanation for such a long period of time,” Peter apologized and MJ nodded.

“I need to go, mum wants to watch this new movie she saw in Target, I’ll text you okay?”

“Okay bye, enjoy the movie,” Peter mumbled and MJ walked out of his room.

“Great Parker, just great,” he mumbled to himself as he watched her leave through his window.

----

2 days later

Peter was standing in front of your school, waiting for you to finish. The last two days have been torture for him and he couldn’t wait to talk to you. When he heard the bell ring on the inside of the building, he stood up from the bench he was sitting on and moved closer to the main entrance, just a precaution and so he wouldn’t miss you walking out.

He started to get worried when he didn’t see you walk out even after 15 minutes.

‘Maybe they had some science lab and are cleaning up or something he thought to himself to calm down a bit. Then, he saw one of your friends, Bee, walk out and he waved at them.

“Hey, she isn’t here today,” Bee said to Peter. He only frowned. That’s weird.

“Okay, thanks Bee, do you think she could be at home? Is she sick?” Peter asked and Bee frowned at him.

“I thought you were best friends, you don’t know where she is?” Bee asked him and Peter looked down looking very guilty.

“We had a fight,” he mumbled and Bee scoffed.

“Well, I guess you fucked up pretty bad because she never misses school.”

“I know, I fucked up and I hurt her, but I just want to make it better, I gave her time to cool off and now, I need to apologize,” Peter explained and Bee nodded their head.

“Okay Parker, last chance, if you hurt her to this extent ever again, I’ll kick you in the balls.” Bee threatened and Peter nodded.

“Don’t worry, this is the first and last time this has ever happened, won’t hurt her ever again, I promise,” Peter said and Bee could tell his words were genuine.

“Fine Parker go, and if she is not at school tomorrow, you are a dead man, I’m telling you that right now.”

“Don’t worry Bee, I’m going to make this right,” Peter promised as he walked away from your school.

----

“Honey, someone is here to see you,” Your mom called out and you looked from under your blanket. You couldn’t function correctly for the past few days, the loss of your best friend being too much to bear.

“Tell them to go away please,” you mumbled and she shook her head sadly. You stopped crying a while ago, no tears left in your body.

You heard a gentle knock on your door.

“Hey bug,” You whipped your head towards the voice, and the tears you thought ran out, welled up in your eyes. He was there, even after he exchanged you for someone else.

“Pete,” you whispered and he quickly walked towards you and sat on your bed. You threw yourself into his arms but then quickly pulled back and furrowed your eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” you asked and Peter shook his head.

“I came to apologize, I hurt you by my actions and made you think something, that isn’t true at all,” he explained and you tilted your head, reminding Peter of a cute, confused puppy.

“I will just tell you the truth, and hope you will be able to forgive me.”

“I was jealous. It’s simple as that, and now that I’ve said it out loud, it sounds so stupid.” He took a deep breath and slowly tangled his fingers in yours.

“The truth is, I have feelings for you. You know what? Scratch that, I’m in love with you and have been for a long time. When I saw you with the guy in Europe, being all cute and sweet together, I just lost it.” He confessed and looked up to see your face. You had an unreadable expression on your face.

“Fuck, he even got you a huge teddy bear from the carnival scam games, I could never do that for you, and I know you love that corny stuff.” He said with a shaky voice and could feel the tears push into his eyes.

“I wanted to make you jealous, but I hurt you instead and that hurts me even more than seeing you with that boy.” He said and then kneeled on the floor beside your bed. He took your other hand into his and kissed your knuckles gently.

“I’m so sorry Bug, please forgive me,” he begged as he put his forehead against your hand. The tears that gathered in his eyes flowed freely down his perfect face and it hurt you to see him like this. You took your hand away from his and you could see the quick flash of pain on his face. You caught one tear with your finger and whispered.

“Please don’t cry, I’m going to cry too,” he quickly looked up and smiled sadly, when he saw your sunken and tired face.

“I forgive you, Peter.” You said with a crack in your voice.

“And you know, it actually worked out, I was so jealous when I saw you with her.” You confessed.

“I love you too Peter, I always have” you whispered and Peter’s face lit up with joy.

“You, do?” He asked and you nodded with a slight smile on your face.

“I do, so so much,” You caressed his cheek, shuffled closer to him, and kissed him on the forehead.

“Come here and lay with me,” you demanded and Peter chuckled.

“Well, what my lovebug wants, she gets.” Peter teased and you hid your face in the blanket.

“I kinda like it,” you whispered shyly and Peter laughed lightly.

“Scoot over love, let me lay with you.” You shuffled over and Peter slipped under your blanket. He laid down and slowly maneuvered your body, to lay comfortably on his chest.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, we’ll work it out, I promise.” You mumbled and Peter nodded and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you, Peter”

“I love you my Bug,” It was quiet for a bit before Peter spoke once again.

“So, who was the boy in the photos?”

“PETER!”

-----

I'm sorry I kind of disappeared for two months, but I had an extreme case of writer's block, but I am back. But I still have no ideas so if you have any ideas, I would be forever thankful if you pitched them to me.

I would also like to thank you for 97 followers, it's unbelievable.

I would really appreciate it if you gave me some feedback and told me what I can change.

Thanks for reading

- Faye xxx

133 notes · View notes

quokkacore · 3 years

Text

with great power I [lee jeno]

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

pairing: lee jeno x reader

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

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

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

word count: 10.5k

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

main masterlist // story masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

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

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

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

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

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

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

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

y/n: also ur literally never late

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

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

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

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

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

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

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

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

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

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

[7:57 AM]

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

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

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

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

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

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

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

“The Bachelor?”

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

“Ah. I see.”

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

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I, uh… ran a little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

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

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

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

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

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

“Fuck you, Huang.”

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

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

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

"San Choi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coming!” San yelled back.

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

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

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

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

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

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

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

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

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

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

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

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

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

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

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

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

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

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

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

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

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jeno?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you left your keys."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

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

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

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

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

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

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

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

“Hand it over, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[8:36 PM]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

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

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txtdreamss · 3 years

Text

the boy who has everything// [f.w.]

Summary: Fred and you have been secretly going steady since the end of your fifth year. Now that he and George are making their grand exit to follow their dreams, you are struggling to come up with the perfect parting gift.

Inspired by: https://open.spotify.com/track/37hblhCnC5YzhDQH58Rgpi?si=0EISnLcTRE2mctlIXNObTA

Warnings: Angst, Malfoy!Reader, difficult home life, neglect mentioned

A/N: Currently going through a bit of a writers block that definitely came from school, but I thought something to do with my fav boy would help clear my mind. Just want some input from ya’ll, would you be interested in me starting to take requests? Also, low-key miss having mutuals before I decided to completely start over lol. Also, why does ‘each other’ look wrong to me? Like I am a native English speaker but the words just like sus...

Word Count: 2.2k

The numerous differences between your childhood and your boyfriend’s were anything but subtle.

Growing up, you felt as if you were a puppet being dangled for the world to see. Your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was a complex woman; She obviously loved you very much. She held you, but never longer than it took to keep your tears at bay. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, was your father in blood only. His disdain for your lack of enthusiasm regarding blood purity was obvious. He had never once in your 18 years on Earth said ‘I love you’, or even a simple ‘I’m proud of you’. Until the day came where you were willing to take the dark mark and fight on behalf of Lord Voldemort, you would be nothing in your parents’ eyes besides a test child before Draco’s birth.

Now, from what Fred had told you, his childhood was seemingly filled with sunshine and rainbows. He spent his summers wading in the pond near the Burrow, listening to the chirp of crickets and giggles of his numerous siblings. The entire family was open about showing their love in words and actions. Molly and Arthur, despite not being particularly rich, would give the clothes off their backs if it meant their children would never have to experience fear in any capacity. Fred always had a playmate, and never did he have to go through life fearing being expelled from the family home for his opinions.

In the simplest of terms, Fred and you were complete opposites. Your similarities were found in the small things; the way you both were headstrong and loyal, and most of all...

You both despised Filch. Fred had saved your butt from being caught in the halls after dark at the beginning of 5th year. He had decided then and there that despite the fact that you were in a different house, you simply had to be more than another member of the besmirched sacred twenty-eight. He knew from the second you were taking his outstretched hand in the dimly lit corridors that no matter what, you both were destined to be in each others’ lives. As he led you down a secret passage to the sound of Mrs. Norris’ eardrum-rattling mewls, you knew that the idea that he was just another impoverished ginger from the Weasley family was anything but true. Despite all the odds, that night was what laid down the foundations for you and Fred to become more than just another member of the family feud.

Going on almost 2 years later, and your relationship had shifted from what was a slightly odd friendship to an unexpected relationship. Fred and George were now planning their grand escape for sometime after the Easter holidays, but you had a totally different date on your mind; April 1st.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Oi, Weasley! You are a whole 42 seconds late!” You giggled, and Fred simply chuckled before dropping his books next to yours.

It was rare for Fred to be on time, but he always made an effort (and usually succeeded) for you. Due to your obvious difference in house loyalty, the easiest way you found to spend time together was to carve out 2 afternoons each week to just bask in each others’ presence. Every Monday and Friday (unless there was a quidditch match), you would meet Fred in a secluded corner of the courtyard. The two of you would goof around study, snack on some treats from Honeydukes, or simply lie back and enjoy the sunset while talking about whatever came up.

“So, anything big happen today, love?” Fred pecked you on the cheek quickly before dropping his head on your shoulder.

“Just the usual. Apparently, my mother has finally given up on sending me howlers to come home.”

“Y/N, mum already said she would love for you to come and stay with us during the holidays. You could come get a feel for the family over the holidays next week, and you would finally get to see what the Weasley-Twin-Birthday-Bonanza is like!”

“You mean watch your aunt call you George for a whole evening while asking why you aren’t a prefect? Oh, I am so in.” The ginger made a face of mock offense while dramatically huffing into the shoulder of your robes. “That reminds me, will you finally cave and tell me what you want for your birthday?”

“Love, I don’t want anything at all. Having my gal be there for the big one-eight is more than I could ever ask for.”

Money was no issue; Your mother had continued sending you a small allowance, most likely in the hopes that it would sway you to ‘do the right thing’. Fred had always made an effort to get you a new charm for your bracelet for your birthday, which most likely cost him a few weeks in sales, so of course you wanted to return the favor and find the perfect gift. Last year, you had crocheted him a plush lion wearing a Gryffindor-themed scarf and he had loved it. For some reason, though, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to find him something bigger and better for his final birthday as a Hogwarts student.

“If you say so, Fred. Just don’t complain when you open my gift and it’s a pair of socks embroidered with little kittens.” Fred simply smiled and grabbed your hand that was previously tapping on the edge of your potions textbook.

“I’ll wear them with pride.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Ginny, please tell me you have some amazing idea for a gift that I haven’t thought of....” Ginny grimaced as you sunk into the wooden chair, obviously aware that this meeting you had called in the library wasn’t just to give her some advice in terms of course selection.

“Well... um... maybe you could bring him some muggle joke products? He really gets quite a kick out of them.” The apples of Ginny’s round cheeks became rosy, and she awkwardly rubbed at the back of her neck. “I mean, no offense, but couldn’t you just ask him?”

“I tried that already. At this rate, he will be turning 19 before I figure out what to get him...” A puff of air escaped your chapped lips, and you once again found yourself nibbling on them in thought.

“Well, here you are, big sis! Trying to figure out a gift for your git of a boyfriend?” Draco’s familiar greasy head popped out from behind the shelf before the young wizard marched up to you directly. “Do us all a favor, give him a little ‘life sans Y/N’... Merlin knows his parents probably don’t want a child of dark lord sympathizers at their shack anyways.”

“Shut up, Draco...” Before Ginny could attempt to soothe your anger, you had up and left the room.

“Psh, serves her right anyways...” A resounding smack was heard as Ginny wacked the platinum-headed goon on the back with the heaviest textbook lying nearby.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It wasn’t like doubt surrounding your relationship had never been an issue before. You often found yourself wondering if your company was putting Fred in danger, especially considering the current climate surrounding the resurgence in death eater activity. Fred had always tried to quell your worries, but sweet words and gentle kisses could only do so much. You and Fred knew how you both felt towards each other, but it seemed like the world was against you some days.

Maybe Draco is right, he could get out of here and find a nice girl with normal parents to settle down with. After all, who wants to be known as the significant other of a Malfoy?

A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye, but you quickly dabbed it away with the edge of your sleeve to avoid grabbing attention from any of your housemates. The only perk you found that happened to come with being sorted into Slytherin like the rest of your family was that it was far enough away that you knew Fred wouldn’t find out if you spent any time sulking about your common room. For once, the slam of the heavy dungeon doors brought you comfort instead of a nagging chill.

Fred isn’t like me. He has everything he could ever want... All I do is create more stress for him.

Ignoring the harsh gaze of your housemates, you slipped into your dorm and found yourself slinking to bed without so much as slipping off your robes. Pulling the emerald comforters over your head, you let yourself slip into a restless sleep.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was finally the day before the Easter holidays, and Hogwarts was more alive than ever. Young couples were spending their last day on campus wandering the corridors, groups of friends sat laughing and promising to write letters on what they each planned to bring back, and even some people that swore they were enemies seemed to be acting more hospitable. It must’ve been nice to not be spending the morning trying to calm your beating heart and convincing yourself that what you are doing isn’t wrong.

“Hey Lovey! Have you finished packing yet?”

“Well... not exactly, Freddie.” Fred’s face dropped, and he took your hand in his.

“Is this about my aunt? I promise you won’t even have to say more than a simple ‘hello’ to her.” The mere mention of Fred’s Auntie Muriel almost cracked your tough exterior.

“I can’t come home with you, Freddie. There is no way your family wants to spend their holiday break with the daughter of Lucius Malfoy. Look, I mean... here’s your gift. Just please promise to wait till you get to the station to open it.”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but you had already turned away as to avoid him seeing hot tears trail down your cheeks. You would have to be insane to go and willingly spend your holiday alone in the Malfoy Manor. There would be no family meals, especially now that all your parent’s energy went towards providing shelter for the death eaters. As you stumbled away to make your way back to your dorm to finish packing, Fred’s warm hand grasped your shoulder.

“Please. Y/N, all I want is to be able to spend every day of this holiday mucking about with you. I know why you want to go home, and I’m telling you as your boyfriend and best friend to not do it. Just please, grant me a birthday wish... come home with me.”

Fred drew you into his chest, and you found yourself clutching onto his striped button-up as if it would save your life. His larger hands rubbed across your back, and he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you really sure about this, Fred? I wouldn’t want to make your mum and dad uncomfortable, or even your older brothers for that matter.”

“Y/N, my love, the light of my life, just come home. If you can manage to get George to like you more than he likes me, I promise you the rest of my family will love you.” His signature smirk spread on his freckled face, and he pressed a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

“Now, let’s go get you packed, Y/N.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Oi, Fred, what’s in the box?” George elbowed his brother while somewhat attempting to be quiet. The train ride was almost over, and you had resorted to using the seat opposite to the twins as a temporary napping spot.

“I nearly forgot I had it on me to be quite honest. Do you think I should open it even though she is coming with us?”

“She said to open it at the station, but we are obviously past that point, so please just open it!” George bounced in his seat, and Fred gave in to temptation. He unwrapped the ribbon holding the small box shut, opened the lid, and discovered a dainty chain with a circular pendant hanging on the end.

“Is that a size reference for your-”

“George! Shut up, you dimwit. I think it might be a mirror-glass type thing, but I genuinely have no idea...”

“Freddie, bring it to your eye and look through it.” The twins both jumped as you rolled over, clearly no longer asleep.

Fred brought the pendant to his right eye, squinted, and his immediate smile couldn’t be contained. When held at the right distance, he could see a small picture of you and him from your first date at Hogsmeade. He was much more lanky and awkward looking, and you were almost matched in height. The smile you both shared in the photo warmed his heart to no end, and Fred found himself having to gather his emotions from the memories he had of that day.

The ginger all but leapt to your side of the cart, and he wrapped his arm around your still-sleepy figure. He squeezed you tightly to his side before leaning in to whisper something in your ear without allowing George to hear.

“It’s perfect, my love.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Post-fic A/N: I hope this was a good read for you guys! I am definitely on the verge of passing out, but proofreading is superior to sleep (jk). Anyways, if anything comes to mind, don’t hesitate to reach out or send in an ask! I love interacting with you guys, even if it is just a brief hello! :) ~

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred and george #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred x reader #fred weasley imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #angst #malfoy reader #reader insert #weasley supremacy #txtdreamss

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k-project-singularity · 3 years

Text

Facts & Trivia || Misaki Yata

The following is part of a series of posts made by me. The information listed is official canon provided by GoRa. Sources will go from the anime, to mangas and novels as well as official short stories. These are NOT fanmade headcanons. The purpose of these posts is to provide useful information for fans as well as roleplayers looking for confirmed lore for their muses. Please do not reply to argue with me about what you read here. I did not come up with this stuff myself. GoRa did. I’ll come back to edit these as I find more info.

Born on July 20, 1993 (The same year as Daichi Yamata, Tōru Hieda, Andy Dōmyōji and Saruhiko Fushimi).

Member of Homra since January/February 2009, when he was 15 years old alongside Saruhiko Fushimi.

His Homra insignia is on the left collarbone like Saruhiko Fushimi’s. Yata and Fushimi are remarkably known as the first and only case in which two clansmen received the mark on the same spot. Yata took great pride in this and will show it off often. He hates that Fushimi marred his own.

His weapons of choice are his fists and legs that Yata uses with expert street fighting moves and acrobatics. He also brandishes blunt weapons such as a baseball bat and a pole, and can control his aura to make his skateboard go faster as well as use it as a weapon itself.

He wears a smartwatch that he uses instead of a PDA. It has all the functions of a mobile phone, including camera and holographic screen as well as a flashlight. It was gifted to him by Fushimi, who personally customized it for him when they were roommates.

Yata called himself Yatagarasu to sound cooler as a Homra member. Yatagarasu is a crow spirit with three legs in Japanese folklore.

Yata is the vanguard of Homra. This means he adopts an all-out direct offense tactic, charging at the enemy on the front without any regard for his own safety. This used to make his duo with Saruhiko almost invincible as his friend would watch his back and finish off the enemy. But after they split up, this strategy doesn’t work as well and Yata often puts his own life at risk with it.

He was born with a different (and unknown) last name. His last name became “Yata” only once his mother remarried (In Japan children of remarried women get their new stepfather’s last name). Misaki was 6 years old at the time.

He hates to be called by his first name because it’s girly. The only people allowed to use it without getting yelled at are his family, Anna, and Saruhiko back when they were friends. Saruhiko still calls him Misaki out of habit, sometimes just to annoy him.

During his earliest childhood he was best friend with Rikio Kamamoto, dragging him around in all kinds of dangerous explorations. Departing from him at 6 years old, he reunites with Rikio once he joins Homra nine years later.

He always displayed a kind of tough, abusive friendship with Kamamoto, calling him names because of his weight and yelling at him when Rikio showed weakness by crying. Even now he doesn’t hesitate to fight him or physically hit him when in an argument.

Though he was born in Shizume City, he moved to live elsewhere at 6 with his mother when she remarried. When he was 12 his family moved in Chiyoda City (Saruhiko and Scepter 4’s district) and was able to go visit Shizume City again because it was nearby. At 15 years of age he returned to live in Shizume City when he moved in with Fushimi.

He attended Himuka Middle School in Chiyoda City, where he met and befriended Fushimi. Both of them dropped out at the end of their third year.

Though he was often bullied, Yata was kind of a bully himself at school, often forcing people into being his friends and scaring them with his fierce and strong personality. This caused the other kids to not really like him much and blacklist him behind his back.

Swears and yells a lot. He’s very manic and violent when he gets worked up and won’t hesitate to give a beating to fellow clansmen too if they anger him (or even if they don’t, in the case of Kamamoto).

He’s very good at baseball and is particularly proud of his straight as a pitcher.

He can use both the skateboard and surf board very skillfully. Even to the point where girls will find him cool, unbeknownst to him. He owns both boards stylized with Homra’s symbol.

His favorite subjects in school were PE and music.

However, seen how bad Yata was at playing Totsuka’s guitar, it’s safe to assume his only musical talent was singing.

He tried to learn to play the guitar from Totsuka.

He likes videogames, which he played a lot with Saruhiko in the past. He often goes to the arcade and has even taught Anna to play FPS games. This shows he might be a bit oblivious to what is appropriate for a kid when it comes to gore and violence.

For his age, he has pretty good housekeeping and cooking skills. However, Kamamoto has described Yata’s cooking as “too manly” for a girl’s birthday.

All animals seem to dislike him for some reason. This includes the horse strain Basashi and a retriever that Fujishima once picked up.

Neko, who also believes to be a cat, shows instinctive hostility towards Yata just like a real cat would.

Yata is actually upset when animals hate him and to bring it up is a sensitive subject.

This seems to be a “mirroring” trait to Fushimi, who instead dislikes animals and yet seems to attract them to himself like a magnet.

Eric Sōlt seems to dislike him (a reference to his dog-like personality), and often mocks him in English. Though Yata’s English is bad, he seems to be able to pick up the insults and gets very annoyed.

He’s very annoyed by how popular Kamamoto gets in the summer when he loses weight. Though, rather than because of jealousy, it might be because when Rikio is surrounded by girls it is impossible for Yata to approach him or hang out with him at ease.

He’s an active member of the Committee of Fattening Up Kamamoto Rikio, going great lengths with his cooking skills to make him gain weight (even to the point where his own living budget will be as low as to force Yata to eat poorly).

Yata appears to get overwhelmingly flustered in the presence of young women, to the point he looks outright terrified and avoids interacting with them. He seems to be okay with little girls or women far older than himself.

Because of his past drama with Saruhiko, Yata holds a personal and violent grudge towards Scepter 4 and anything related to them, reacting with suspicion and hostility towards any of its members.

By far the member who cares about Homra’s honor the most. Yata doesn’t tolerate that anything offensive is said about his King or clan. He also gets furious when his fellow clansmen act in dishonorable ways that could stain the Red Clan’s reputation, and will violently discipline them without any restraint if so.

In general, Yata proves to have great pride and sense of honor overall, refusing to strike at injured people, no matter how bad he hates them.

Despite his problems with Fushimi and how directly he insults him as they fight, Yata also won’t tolerate that anyone else speaks poorly of him. In general, Homra members know to avoid the topic entirely around Yata.

He’s known to not listen all too well to no one, save perhaps Mikoto-san (who however hardly ever tells him anything).

This may be another a mirror personality trait to reflect Fushimi, who instead doesn’t speak out his thoughts (“He never listens vs. He never tells”).

He won’t tolerate being bossed around by any guy save the Homra founders. Yata dislikes when people settle things on their own. Ironically, he is guilty of this fault himself as he often takes decisions and acts without waiting.

Despite his fiery temper, Yata is very nurturing and won’t hesitate to show concern and care for those he’s very close to. Though he may be aggressive about it, especially with Saruhiko.

Yata is tormented by not knowing the exact reasons behind Saruhiko’s betrayal. He’ll ask him several times, only to get mocked as a result.

When he and Saruhiko start arguing, Yata can get tunnel vision and forget about everything else around him, including bullets and grenades.

Though he always swears he’ll beat Saruhiko to death, deep inside Yata has never given up on getting his friend back, and always looks with hope for signs from Saruhiko that they can be comrades again. Because of this he gets even more hurt every time Saruhiko reiterates his betrayal and spite towards Homra.

Yata can be a bit of a crybaby and tear up more easily than most guys.

He’s terrified of ghosts. When he hears about ghost stories or thinks one may be close, Yata gets extremely jittery and manic. However, he strongly denies his fears and will react with nervous violence if accused of this.

#k project #lore #misaki yata

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fan-art-ic · 3 years

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By Chance | DT Secret Santa 2020

A writing gift for @zestyquetzalcoatl who requested a fic with Gladstone and Donald getting along and use of Paperinik for the @ducktalessecretsanta2020 event! Despite how the rockiness of everything that’s happening, I hoped I conveyed that they care about each other. Even moreso, I hope you enjoy this!

Posted on archiveofourown here

Summer, 1999

Gladstone and Fethry’s parents wanted to go on a wine tour through Calisota, so the two of them were dumped on Scrooge McDuck, their barely related ‘uncle’. However, since Scrooge had taken in Della and Donald as his wards, the geezer had become a bit more approachable, a tad more indulgent of his young family. Part of that was giving in when Della asked her uncle to let her cousins stay with them for a couple of weeks during the summer.

Gladstone considers Fethry more brother than cousin given how often their parents had the other family over. Fethry is a good kid, silly but reliable. Della is whip-sharp with all the subtlety of a rocket, but she’s the only one who can prank Gladstone without his luck saving him. It’s unfortunate for his wardrobe, but it makes seeing her so much fun. Donald…

He’s easy to rile up, is all Gladstone can really say. Or is it? That certainly hadn’t been the case earlier.

Scrooge was stuck in meetings the whole afternoon of their first day in Duckburg, so Della and Donald showed their cousins around town. While walking around, they passed an electronics store with a window filled with televisions tuned to the same channel. On the screens was a Kiwi, the name Angus Fergus - Channel 00 visible on the subtitle banner. The breaking news headline was DUCK AVENGER: ENEMY OR FOE?

Gladstone laughed. “Enemy or foe? What kind of question is that?” He watched briefly as a news clip of a dark duck-shaped figure jumped a fence. His cousins stopped so he wouldn’t be left behind and turned to face him.

Donald frowned, saying, “It’s not a question.”

Della jumped in at that point. “That’s the top reporter on the Duck Avenger,” and as she said the name, she moved her voice up and down and wiggled her fingers. Gladstone and Fethry laughed at her antics, and Donald’s shoulders hitched up.

“Top reporter?” Donald scoffed. “The Duck Avenger is only a menace to those who need menacing, and that reporter is a joke. He can’t even write a byline.”

“Do you even know what a byline is?” Gladstone joked and Donald started to grow red. Della jeered at her brother and Fethry mimicked her. Donald’s face darkened.

“Yeah, didn’t you fail that English test, Don?” Della brought Donald in for a noogie, but he escaped it easily. He nearly swung at her, but stopped mid-way, grimacing.

“You okay, Donald?” Fethry asked.

Gladstone watched as Donald looked at the groups of people walking past them on the sidewalk before blowing his emo-long bangs out of his eyes with faked nonchalance. The duck rolled his shoulder and all he said was, “I got clipped by some ninny on a unicycle earlier. Don’t worry about it.”

“A unicycle?” Gladstone and Fethry questioned at once, but were steamrolled by Della’s reply.

“Wow, Don, if a unicycle can take you out you better let me take point on the next adventure,” Della laughed. She then tacked on, “Do you wanna put an ice pack on it back at home?”

“Nah, let’s just keep walking. That new arcade Funzo’s is a few blocks away,” Donald brushed Della off.

While going to Funzo’s had been awesome, especially because Gladstone tried the Big Bass wheel and won the 10,000 tickets (and he played the claw machine, successfully grabbing a toy each time), Gladstone feels...

There’s this niggling emotion in his chest, and as Gladstone tosses and turns in his bed, he can’t help but wonder if there is something wrong with Donald.

Gladstone huffs and drags his luxurious pillow down his face. “This is stupid,” he tells the dark of his temporary room. He flops onto his side and pulls the down comforter over his head. Underneath the blanket, it is pitch black and with each exhale it becomes stuffier and hotter and more unbearable.

He bursts out and pushes the comforter away. Gladstone grimaces and closes his eyes. He opens them and then sits up, grabbing his pillow and pummelling it a few times. He lays it and then himself back down. Sighing, he closes his eyes again.

“Argh!” Gladstone gripes out loud and he beats his fist into the mattress. Why couldn’t he go to sleep? “This sucks.”

This is fine, though. He’ll just drink some water and then fall right asleep like a baby. That’s it, right, his luck won’t let him go to sleep because he’s dehydrated, no problemo-

He turns to the nightstand, where no matter Gladstone stays there is always a glass of water, there’s no glass of water.

“Seriously?” Gladstone squawks at his luck. “Seriously?”

He sighs heavily and glances at the door. “I guess I’ll just go get my own water.” Luckily, by the door are a pair of shamrock green slippers. Gladstone shrugs his bathrobe over his pajamas and finds the slippers to be exceedingly soft when he slides them on.

The door opens quietly on oiled hinges, and Gladstone slowly makes his way out of the guest wing of the mansion to the main steps. He’s certain there are closer stairs that would take him to the kitchen, but he’s yet to learn them. He could probably ask Della or Donald about it tomorrow. He passes by a suit of knight’s armor and the moonlight pouring in from the windows glints off the poleaxe menacingly.

Gladstone shivers and shuffles faster. He can’t imagine living in such a creepy place with creepy things all year. Would make him bananas. All these magical artifacts and mystic doodads must be at least half responsible for Scrooge’s weird habits, Gladstone thinks and then laughs at his own thoughts.

“I’m hilarious,” he says out loud and definitely doesn’t startle when a hushed wailing emanates from a collection of strangely-shaped clay. He shivers again, “Eugh.” Soon he’s at the main stairs and not a single step groans as Gladstone walks down.

A sharp creak snaps through the still air.

He freezes on the stair landing and he looks toward the sound. Towards the steps on the other side of the landing that lead to the west wing of the house, where he was told Scrooge, Della, and Donald’s bedrooms are somewhere located. Gladstone grimaces. On one hand, it’s probably nothing, just some treasure acting up a bit how that pottery had. On the other hand…

Gladstone can’t help but imagine his cousins and their uncle in trouble and somehow unable to yell for help, that creak being the sole sound to alert anyone, and Gladstone had just happened to be nearby to hear it. His hands fiddle with the bathrobe tie, and his head swings to look back-and-forth between the ground floor, just down the steps, and the other side of the mansion, up the steps.

“That didn’t happen, I didn’t hear anything,” Gladstone murmurs to himself.

Thud.

Gladstone glares incredulously. That sound was so soft and distant, but he undeniably heard something thud in the house. Right after he said...nope, no more tempting fate, Gladstone decides. He turns to walk down the stairs, but as soon as his foot touches the first step, he hears another creak. Gladstone huffs and the moment his other foot touches the next step, there is...

Nothing. He didn’t hear anything. That’s good, right?

Gladstone makes it halfway across the foyer before he whips around and races up the stairs. He speed-walks down the hall of the opposite wing, feeling silly as he cups his hands to his ears. He hopes he hears something. He hopes he hears nothing.

There! A muffled yelp pierced the still air and was cut off not even a second later, but Gladstone had heard it. He stops in his tracks, and as luck would have it, he’s in front of a branching off hallway. Gladstone sees a few doors down it, but the main one that draws his attention is wrapped all around in bright yellow CAUTION tape. As he reluctantly walks closer, Gladstone spots a tiny boat sticker on the door jamb.

He nearly sweat drops. Gladstone loves his cousin, but he knows it’d be tempting fate to knock on the temperamental teenager’s door in the middle of the night. And what would Gladstone have to say for himself, that he was worried? That there were some weird sounds that scared him? He’d be very lucky if the only thing that happens is Donald waking up, telling him he heard some spooky artefact, and closing the door in his face.

Oh wait, it slowly dawns on the teenager. He is that lucky! He’s incredibly lucky every single day, why would this be any different? All he needs to do is knock, lay his fears to rest, go to bed, and lay himself to rest. Everything will be fine. He'll go back to sleep and the sun will rise and everything will be fine. Gladstone sucks in a deep breath and exhales in a whoosh. He knocks four times, just enough force to catch attention if Donald is awake, but not raucous enough to wake him. A muffled curse filters through the door. Gladstone frowns and folds his arms awkwardly. The door opens a few inches to reveal the sleep-squinting eyes of his cousin.

“Gladstone?”

He laughs weakly. “Ah! Donald, just the duck I wanted to see…” Gladstone means to say more, but is distracted by the dark shadows under Donald’s eyes. Or, more, around the eyes…?

“Did you need something?” asks Donald. His eyes are looking away from Gladstone’s, and his fingertips around the door are flecked darkly.

Gladstone blue screens for a second before finding some words to say, “I was wondering if you knew anything about the pottery near my room! Such fascinating pieces of, uh, artwork.”

The door shuts without answer and the goose scrambles. “Wait! No, I uh, I actually was, I’m worried,” he stammers out, and the door opens back up, a little more than before. Success. If only it wasn’t at the sacrifice of his dignity. “You see, they’re really freaky, and were making some weird moaning wailing noises? And I just couldn’t get to sleep!” Gladstone grins bashfully. The door opens fully, and there stands Donald, rumpled and grumbly but definitely awake.

“Move to a different room tonight. Tell Uncle Scrooge in the morning about it, he’ll give them a lecture,” Donald advises him, actually more helpful than Gladstone thought he would be. “Go back to sleep, Glad.”

“Well, uh, sounds good,” Gladstone says. The door begins to shut and Gladstone blurts out, “Why are you wearing boots in the middle of the night?” He had barely noticed them at first, but now it’s striking him as super weird.

Donald squawks. His eyes flick down and then back up to meet Gladstone’s. His cousin goes to slam shut his bedroom door, but before it closes Gladstone shoves his hand in between and blocks it. He hisses loudly in pain and Donald’s eyes go wide. The door reopens and Donald starts to reach out to Gladstone, who’s withdrawn the injured hand and stuffed it in his mouth to muffle his yelps, but then the duck aborts the gesture. When Gladstone finally lets go of his bruised hand, Donald flicks the side of his beak.

“Idiot,” he rasps. “Don’t put your stupid hand in the door.”

Gladstone declines to respond because with the door open more, he has a better view of his cousin. Donald’s feathers are badly ruffled, his tee-shirt oddly bulky on him like he’s wearing something big underneath, his black boots dirty and scuffed. Now, Gladstone can tell that his eyes aren’t swollen with only a lack of sleep but also with bruising.

He whistles lowly. “That’s a hell of a shiner, Don.” His cousin’s shoulders jump to his ears and he snarls at Gladstone.

“Shut up! You didn’t see any of this!” Donald stands taller and moves to block Gladstone’s view of the room, but Gladstone uses that to push him out of the way and walk in. As he walks by, he spies a thick piece of blue fabric spilling out the back of Donald’s shirt. He quickly reaches out and grabs it, pulling it closer to inspect. It has more weight to it than Gladstone expected and the underside is a deep coal black.

“Is this a cape?”

Donald whirls around to face him, and man, oh man has Gladstone messed up. If looks could kill Gladstone would be worm food. The duck’s shoulders start to shake and Gladstone can practically see steam whistling out his ears. Oh man.

“Get out of my room! You didn’t see anything! GET OUT-” Donald’s volume exponentially rises and Gladstone rushes to clamp the duck’s bill shut before he grows loud enough to wake up everyone else. Donald shakes in his grasp for a few seconds but regains his calm quickly enough that Gladstone feels somewhat certain he won’t start yelling again. Donald breathes heavily and with a dark look at Gladstone, he turns his back on him and stalks over to his bed. “Get out of my room,” his cousin orders, pulling his blanket over his head. As if that would be enough to dissuade a curious (not scared!) gander. Gladstone eyes the haphazard mess around the room. Piles of clothes, overflowing trash, an open window letting in an unusually cold summer draft. He shivers. Then he looks closer at the window.

Dark, two-toned smudges litter the windowsill. The floor below the window is oddly clear of any mess in a rough circle. Gladstone knows for a fact that there is a climbable trellis right outside Donald’s window. Della had pointed it out during his and Fethry’s first tour of the manor grounds, bemoaning the fact that lame straight-lace Donald got a sneak-out-able window and she didn’t.

Gladstone had laughed then, but now he was severely doubting the idea that Donald never snuck out.

“Donald? Is this…” Gladstone walks closer to the window and bends over. He picks up something small and black, rough in texture and sort of sticky. Spread out in his hands, he can see it’s a domino mask like the ones comic book superheroes wear. His trailing off must have been telling because after a few seconds Donald forcefully tumbles out of bed and snatches the mask from Gladstone’s hands.

“It’s for a school play,” Donald says harshly before shoving him towards the door. “Get out of my room.”

“Is this blood?” Gladstone asks as he stares at the reddish residue on his fingertips. “Donald, I want an explanation.”

“Yeah, well I want a thousand dollars, and you don’t see me getting it,” the duck says brusquely.

“Do you want a thousand dollars? I can give you it.” It wouldn’t even make a dent in his savings with how his parents make him deposit all the twenty-dollar bills he finds and cash prizes from sweepstakes he unwittingly wins.

Donald’s feathers fluff out a bit, and Gladstone realizes that was the wrong thing to say. “I, uh, well I mean, are you okay?”

His cousin gives him a disbelieving look and pauses in his attempts to push Gladstone out. The goose notices a small patch of darkened feathers on the side of Donald’s head. He reaches out to poke it. “You’re hurt?”

Donald bats his hand aside. “Just leave, Gladstone. Forget all this and I’ll let you get away with as many jokes as you want tomorrow.”

Tempting. Very tempting, in fact. For a second, Gladstone wavers. He and Fethry are in the works planning a prank on the Duck twins for the next day, and it’s a doozy of one that definitely would result in getting chased up a tree. His tree climbing skills are lacking…

“Nope!” Gladstone replies. “C’mon cuz! What’s the big secret? Some adventure you don’t want your sis getting in on?” His response gets him a tired look. Gladstone frowns. He’s just getting nowhere tonight. How untypical. This calls for drastic measures.

“Look, Donald,” he says seriously, and steps aside and away from the door. He levels a look at his cousin and is returned with an exhausted, stony stare. “I don’t want in on…” Gladstone gestures around the room, “whatever this is. I was worried earlier, but, eugh, this pains me to say, but I was worried about you.”

His cousin’s stunned expression is enough to make Gladstone continue. “You seemed off earlier, and this is like, REALLY wildly weird, whatever you’re up to, and, I don’t know, are you actually okay?” Donald stares at him, his face closed off and blank. Gladstone fidgets a bit awkwardly; bald-faced honesty is not his usual policy and the longer this silence drags out the heavier the sinking feeling in his stomach gets.

Finally, his cousin sighs harshly and looks him in the eyes before glancing around his owm room. Donald sighs again, but reaches out and closes the door with a click. Gladstone backs up to give him space and sits down in the desk chair to the left of the bed.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” Donald begins quietly. “Not Fethry, not Della, not Scrooge, not your folks, you tell anyone and not even your luck will save you.” Teenage bravado or not, a shiver runs down Gladstone’s spine.

“Okay.”

“You promise?” Donald marches up to him and sticks a pinky finger in his face. Gladstone curls his own pinky around it and swallows roughly.

“Promise, Don.”

Donald breathes in and it’s like all the tension in him had been cut in two. With a deep sigh, his shoulders sag and the duck stumbles a few steps backward to sit heavily on the bed. He awkwardly draws up one leg and encircles his arms around it, and scratches at his elbow. In the soft moonlight pouring in, Gladstone can just make out a bandage clip peeking out of feathers. What craziness is Gladstone stepping into this time?

Donald mumbles...something into his elbows and knee, his face too buried for Gladstone to hear. “What?”

Donald mumbles again.

“What?”

Donald’s fingers clench. Unclench. He lifts his head to glare at the goose. Reluctantly, as if the very words pain him, Donald says, “I’m the Duck Avenger.”

Gladstone’s eyes bug out.

“WHA-” Donald moves lightning-quick, lunging forward and clamping a hand around Gladstone’s beak. He lets go after a second. Gladstone continues, volume adjusted, “-what do you mean you’re the freaking Duck Avenger? You’re saying you’re a vigilante? Did you hit your head?”

“Yes,” says Donald. “At least several times.” Gladstone has no response to that.

His cousin...is a vigilante. What did Gladstone know about the Duck Avenger? Not well-liked by news reporters, not well-liked by police, not well-liked by criminals. Criminals. His cousin regularly goes out and sneaks around at the dead of night getting...who had Gladstone heard about? The mayor?

“What was the deal with the mayor?” Gladstone asks. Donald frowns and seems a little caught off-guard.

“He was embezzling funds from Duckburg taxes,” explains Donald. “Using people’s money for his own fancy, schmancy pool at his big fancy, schmancy mansion, instead of fixing potholes or funding something worthwhile!”

“You live in a fancy, schmancy mansion with a pool,” Gladstone points out. Donald glares at him.

“It’s not the same!”

“Okay, okay!” Gladstone raises his hands in surrender, and he changes the topic. “So, like, you go out and expose politicians and punch robbers and stuff? Like Superdog or Wonder Warble?”

Donald scratches the back of his neck. “There’s a bit more to it than that, but uh, yeah.” The duck sits taller. “I avenge. I avenge on those taking advantage of those not in power. Or is it I avenge those not in power…” the teenager trails off.

“Neat!” Gladstone interjects as he can empathize with being brain fuzzy late at night; this is all so confusing without thinking about grammar of all things. Ugh, grammar.

“Wait, so how’s being a mysterious vigilante going to work when summer is over and school starts?” asks Gladstone. He starts to spin himself in the desk chair. “Are you going to just ‘avenge’ on weekends and holidays or…?”

Donald shakes his head and then yawns so big Gladstone hears a joint pop. He shivers. Eugh, gross. Whoa, he’s dizzy. He stops spinning the chair and realizes he’s missed half of what Donald has said. “Wait, back up, can you repeat that?”

His cousin rolls his eyes but obliges. “I was saying that I’m gonna go out whenever I can. If I’m not unconscious from the latest adventure or I don’t have a huge exam the next day, I want to be out there,” Donald turns his head to look out the window, “making a difference.”

Gladstone is seeing all sorts of hidden depths to his cousin tonight. Yikes, what to say to that kind of statement, jeez. “We got plenty of time to make a difference, Don, we’re not even out of high school,” Gladstone reasons. “Right now, we’re just learning the ropes and being crazy kids, no need to really stress about it that much. Making a difference is for adults.”

Donald shoots him a sharp glare that settles into a deep scowl. “Of course you’d say that.”

“Of course I’d say what?”

“That we should let the adults handle it. That we should wait to become adults to handle it. Some of us-” Donald visibly bites off the end of his sentence. Gladstone frowns. The duck continues, wrestling with his words. “I,” he stresses, “I am not waiting to do something. That’s not...It’s not something I can do.”

Gladstone stands up from the desk chair and starts pacing. One, two, three, four steps, turn around, walk back. One, two, three, four steps, turn around, walk back. One, two, three, four-

“Glad?”

The goose stops pacing and stands still for a moment. Gladstone ignores his cousin for a second to inspect his hands, where they’d held the mask earlier. He rubs his fingers together and some of the light brown, dried blood crumbles off his white feathers. He turns to look at Donald.

“Donald.” Gladstone hesitates before repeating himself from earlier, “Are you okay?” He hopes his cousin sees it for the out it is. Let Gladstone win once tonight. His cousin frowns and scratches at his elbow. The bandages shift around the arm. Gladstone looks away.

“Am I…are you okay?” Donald deflects instead.

“I’m peachy keen,” Gladstone replies with pronounced cheer. He rocks back on his heels. “So, you are okay? You’ll live to the morning?”

Donald catches on, frowning at first before finally saying, “Yep, all good. You can go back to bed now.” Gladstone laughs weakly.

“Good to hear! Good to hear…” Jeez, now the duck almost looks downcast because Gladstone wants out of this frankly strange conversation. His stomach churns uneasily and Gladstone really just wants to dart out the door and chalk this all up to a weird dream. He turns and begins to walk toward the door, but before he crosses the threshold, Gladstone spins around and rushes up to the duck.

“Gladstone?” Donald says and then groans, “Mind the ribs!” as Gladstone quickly, tightly wraps his arms around his older cousin. He holds the hug for four seconds before letting go and stepping away immediately.

“Well, goodnight, Don,” Gladstone says. Donald looks back at him.

“Goodnight, Glad.”

The goose nods and then makes his way out of the room. Just before he closes the door, he hears Donald’s tired voice ask, “You won’t tell anyone ‘bout me?”

Gladstone swallows roughly and it takes him a moment to respond. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“ ‘Kay...goodnight…”

“Goodnight, Don,” repeats Gladstone and he closes the door with care. He walks back to the stairs and goes down to the kitchen. He remembers that reporter, asking if the Duck Avenger is the enemy. The shadowy silhouette of the Duck Avenger jumping a fence. Gladstone pulls a glass out of the cabinet and pours water into it from the pitcher. He sets the pitcher down and there’s a slight brownish tint on the white plastic that hadn’t been there before. Gladstone wipes it away and drinks from his glass. A mayor embezzling funds, that would require breaking and entering to figure out, getting into secured files or going onto the mayor’s, well, ex-mayor’s property, trespassing. That’s just one thing Gladstone knows about, and who knows how long Donald will keep superheroing? If he ever gets caught…

Gladstone finishes off his water and rinses the glass, setting it to dry on the mat beside the sink. He walks back to his room and slips under the covers. He stares up at the ceiling. His cousin the vigilante. Out there, trying to make a mark and fixing injustices. Although Gladstone isn't quite sure his cousin is really old enough, when he thinks about it he can find it pretty cool of Donald. Hopefully, he won’t have to think about it all. Tomorrow, he’ll have to talk to Fethry about changing their prank plans. Maybe something with not quite as many roller skates.

Gladstone closes his eyes and waits for a new day to begin.

#ducktales #donald duck #gladstone gander #paperinik #ducktales secret santa #my writing #ahhhhhhhh i enjoyed how this turned out but i just hope you enjoy this as it is a gift lmao

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ezgithechaotic · 4 years

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The Parent Trap | Chapter Three; bad to the bone

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

AU: The Parent Trap, dad!harry

series summary: Identical twins Benjamin and Edward, separated at birth and each raised by one of their biological parents, later discover each other for the first time at summer camp and make a plan to bring their wayward parents back together.

chapter summary; Benjamin and Edward discover what enemies mean.

author note; I don’t know why but it took very long for me to start to write this chapter but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, ı guess.

I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. My askbox is always open if you want to talk. Please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

Taglist is open. (10\20)

The Parent Trap Masterlist

Edward hated places full of people. He hated it. It was overwhelming and loud, and it made him sweat through his clothes. He liked being alone, spending time on his own. If he had to be around people, he would choose adults. Not eight to twelve years olds running around him, making him anxious. If it weren't for his mother's sake, Edward wouldn't be there. And it wasn’t really his priority to make friends either.

He never really understood the concept of having a lot of friends. He had Nate, his mother, his aunt, Becky, and his grandfather. He had his little family and was very happy with it. Meeting new people and making friends wasn't his thing, it had never been. But Edward loved making his mother happy. Seeing her smile was his only purpose. He knew Y\N only wanted him to have a good childhood. He understood that. But while sitting alone at the corner at lunch on the first day, he was starting to question his decisions.

He could feel his anxiety taking over his brain, starting to panic. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours, and Edward was already losing his mind. He had no idea how to handle the camp for six weeks, and he was far from making any friends. He felt like he was failing while he was supposed to have fun.

"Hey, buddy." When Edward looked up, he saw one of the counselors standing with a tray in her hand. "Can I sit?" she asked, and Edward slowly nodded his head.

An adult, finally.

Unlike the kids of his age, Edward loved adults. He listened to old songs, read the old books. Everything his mother knew, he knew. So that way, Edward felt like talking to an adult was easier. It was easier than talking to any kid at his age, hell, it was easier than sitting in a room full of kids at his age.

"Not any friends yet?" She smiled like she knew how hard it was for him.

"I'm not the social type, to be honest." He shrugged, wanting to show he was okay with it.

"You're not wrong," She looked over her shoulder, eyeing all the kids around them. "kids are scary. But, it's not that bad to have a fencing partner."

Edward's eyes shined as he heard the sport. "Wait, there are people who know to fence here?" He really couldn't see the potential in those kids.

"Not much, only a few. But I think you would make a good competition." The counselor's words were the only things that made Edward smile since he had gotten there. "Well, I could try," he said, and it made him remember Nate. Maybe you'll find somebody who can beat you at poker, Nate had said as he gave Edward a new deck of cards. He doubted it then, but maybe he could find a friend. If kids there knew how to fence, one of them surely would know hot to play poker, right?

"Excellent, Ben! The winner and still undefeated champion from London, England Mister Benjamin Styles!" One of the counselors whose name was Maggie said, as Benjamin defeated his last opponent at fencing. His smile grew behind the mask. At last, his father's weird interests were getting handy. He had never thought he would use fencing anywhere. Maggie, the counselor, searched through the crowd around them to find someone who would be a good competitor against Benjamin. And her eyes found Edward, who was standing at the corner with a few new friends, he discovered it was not that bad to have friends, watching rather uninterested. "Ed, why don't you give it a try?"

Edward couldn't understand what she had said for a second as he felt all the eyes turned to him. Chill, he thought to himself, it's just fencing. It was one of the few things he was good at, so he was determined not to screw. Edward nodded and left the corner to wear the white suit.

He thanked and took his weapon from his new friend and walked to his opponent. As he got closer, his confidence and courage grew. Now, he was standing face to face with his opponent, whose name he didn't know. "Fencers, ready?" They heard Maggie calling to them. Benjamin spun his weapon in his hand with confidence. "Ready," he said. Edward tossed the metal up with his foot and caught it mid-air. "All set."

They crossed their weapons. "On guard!" Edward tensed, and Benjamin strengthened his hold. "Fence!" Their weapons hit, and as Edward took a step forward, Benjamin took one back. While they moved with synchronization, the grass under their feet turned to sand. Boys dodged each other and got closer.

Edward felt like everything was moving around so fast. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. On the other hand, Benjamin was glad that he finally found someone who could fence but couldn't help feeling annoyed that his opponent was slightly better than him. They made their way's through trees. Clashing sounds were echoing around them, and the crowd, which was watching them, was getting bigger.

Kids ran away when they saw Edward and Benjamin coming towards them. Benjamin pushed Edward to a plank of carved wood and Edward dodged his weapon by turning around himself, and taking a step back. Edward jumped over a hay bail as Benjamin chased him. He rested against hay bails, and when Benjamin struck his weapon harder this time. As Benjamin tried to strike once more, Edward jumped on hay bails and caught his flying weapon mid-air.

"Nice catch!" Benjamin said.

"Thanks!" Edward was feeling more and more confident.

Benjamin saved his weapon, where it stuck and swung. Edward jumped not to get hit and landed in front of one of the cabins' veranda. Benjamin climbed the stairs to catch up with him. Metal clinking got more intense as Edward cornered Benjamin in the balcony. Benjamin took a step back to dodge his opponent, but Edward's weapon hit him in the chest. He rolled over the boarding of the veranda and found himself in the cold water.

"Sorry, let me help you!" Edward thrust out his hand to help him. Benjamin gripped his hand. "No, let me help you!" he said and pulled Edward to water.

"Why would you do that!" Edward yelled. Both of them drenched in water, now.

"Me?" Benjamin argued. "You pushed me in!"

"I didn't!"

"Okay!" Maggie chirped and boys got out of water. "That was quite a show. I think we got ourselves a new camp champion from California Mister Edward Y\L\N!" They took their mask off as the crowd around them clapped. "Alright, boys shake hands." Benjamin and Edward turned to each other with a sigh.

The moment Edward saw Benjamin, he felt like he was looking to a mirror. Benjamin stretched his hand out, and Edward grasped his hand. They felt the electricity going through their bodies, as they shook hands, it was almost magical. Benjamin was sure he had never felt this strange before. The kids, around them, gasped and whispered.

"Look at them!"

"They look alike!"

Both of them withdrew their hands as Maggie walked to them. Benjamin scratched his neck with a confused look on his face. "Why is everyone staring?" Now, with a few people around them, including Freddie.

"Don't you see it?" Edward asked.

"See what?" Benjamin shrugged, becoming more confused.

"The resemblance between us," Edward said as if he was stating the obvious.

"Resemblance," Benjamin smirked. "between you and me?" Edward nodded his head with his eyes wide open.

"Let me see, turn sideways." Edward turned to his left with a puff, so Benjamin could examine. "Now, the other way." Benjamin squinted. "Well, your eyes much closer together than mine. Your ears. Well, don't worry, you'll grow into them. Your teeth are little crooked. Oh, and that nose!"

When Edward attempted to talk, Benjamin stopped him. "Hold on, I'm not, quite finished. You want to know the real difference between us?"

"Let me see," Edward raised his eyebrow. "I know a defense, and you don't, or I have class, and you don't. You take your pick." Both of them took a step ahead with an angry look on their faces. "Okay, Ben, Ed, it's enough," Maggie said them, but the longer she looked at them, she felt like there was a mirror in between. "Sorry, Ed, Ben." Benjamin and Edward turned to her when she got their names wrong. "Wow, you guys look alike."

The pair turned around with a puff and walked away as their friends followed them. Both Benjamin and Edward had the same question in their minds, thinking how weird it was. Benjamin quickly threw the thought at the back of his mind, but it lingered in Edwars's for a long time.

A few days after meeting Benjamin, Edward was sitting in his cabin after lunch with his friends and the kids from camp, playing poker. He had been winning since the first round. Edward was loving being at camp more and more every day. He was glad he had decided to trust his mother. He found that having friend wasn’t really bad and unnecessary.

Edward smiled as he put the cards in his hand down. "Sorry, boys. Two pairs." And he collected all the money sitting on the bed, arranging them. "So, that's it?" He looked around. "No more takers?"

As everyone around him rejected his offer, he heard the door creak. "I'll take a whack at it." Benjamin came into view with a sock full of coins, wearing vintage sunglasses and a shiny bomber jacket. He poured the coins to bed, making everyone watch in awe.

Edward shuffled the cards in his hands without breaking eye contact with Benjamin. "Take a seat, Styles." Benjamin sat down across Edward, took his glasses off, and put them on top of his head while leaning to bed. "Deal me in."

As the game continued, the tension between the two grew more and more. Edward put more money into the pile, trusting the cards in his hands. The more money Edward put, the more money Benjamin put. Both of them had a smug smirk on their faces.

"Tell you what I'm going to do," Benjamin said as he put his last money into the pile of coins, cash, and coupons. "I'll make you a little deal. Loser jumps into the lake after the game."

Edward took one last look to his cards, smiling. "Excellent."

"Butt naked."

"Even more excellent. Start unzipping Styles," Edward put his cards evenly on the bed so everyone could see it. "Straight in dimes."

Benjamin shook his head as if he was shocked. "You're good, Y\L\N." He smiled as he continued shaking his head. "But, you're just not good enough." He turned the cards to him, making Edwards frown at the sight. "In your honor, a royal clash."

A minute after, Edward found himself walking on the deck, all the boys catcalling him, butt naked. When he reached the lake, Edward stopped and turned back to see everyone watching him. He faked a smile and made a soldier salute to Benjamin. Edward took a deep breath and turned to the lake again.

It's just water, he thought to himself, as his heartbeat fastened. It's just water. He took a deep breath and jumped into the cold water. "Grab his clothes," Benjamin whispered the boys around him. When Edward finally came out of the water, he saw everyone running away, leaving him behind with only his white sneakers.

He took the sneakers and covered himself as much as he could. Shivering from the cold, he walked to his cabin. Even though Edward was sure that he had social anxiety, he was too proud to let Benjamin win. So, the next thing he decided was to declare war.

Three days after the poker game, Benjamin was walking to his cabin after a basketball game with his best friend, Freddie.

"You're kinda becoming obsessed with this Edward guy." Benjamin had been talking about his victory for three days straight. So, Freddie was getting nervous about it. He knew Benjamin could be a total drama queen and do much sometimes. Maybe all the time. He didn't quite know when or where to stop.

"Don't be ridiculous, Freddie. I'm just having fun." Benjamin said, smiling to his friend.

"Are you sure?" Freddie asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know Uncle Harry would be mad if he heard that you were involved in mischief, again."

"Well, he won't hear anything, will he? Plus, everything is under control."

Freddie took a deep breath. "I hope so."

"You're turning into my dad, relax a bit."

"Being your friends comes with a damaging side, you know?" Benjamin laughed at his friend's remark. "I can't wait to take a nap. I'm so tired after that game."

As their cabin came into view, Freddie's eyes expanded. "I don't think that's possible, mate."

Benjamin frowned. "What, why?" He followed Freddie's look and saw their cabin. Their beds were lying around in the grass outside the cabin with their bags and clothes. Their pillows and blankets were on the roof, covered in red paint.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

It was in the middle of the night when Benjamin decided to strike with his genius evil plan. Edward and his cabin mates were sleeping, as Benjamin and his friends coated one of them with honey and the other with shaving cream. They poured oil, syrup, and honey on the floor and hanged strings around the room.

The first thing Edward saw when he woke up was a fake spider attached to a string across to his face. Their cabin was almost like a spider nest. Edward jolted from the bed to only step into the weird mixture of syrup, oil, and honey. When he groaned with disgust, his friends woke up to the same sight around them. Screams and groans were echoing inside the cabin.

Benjamin, Freddie, and their friend were just outside the window watching them, as the chaos took over the cabin. Edward tried to step out of the weird mixture, but his feet stumbled a red string that was impossible to see inside all that mess. The moment his feet touched it, three little water balloons fell from the roof, exploding and making the floor wet. As soon as he thought balloons missed him, a bigger one hit him in the head and drenched him.

"That boy is without a doubt the lowest, most awful creature that ever walked the planet!" Edward yelled with frustration as Benjamin watched him with laughs. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Morning, boys!" Marcus said them as he made his way to the cabin with Maggie following him. "Morning, Marcus!" They said in unison. But the moment they realized what was about to happen, their faces changed and they panicked. "Marcus!"

"Inspection time!" Marcus said, holding his megaphone. When he realized there wasn't still anyone coming out of the cabin, he walked toward it. But Benjamin quickly crossed his way and made him stop.

"No, Marcus! Do not go in there. One of the boys got sick last night, and it's a big big mess. Save yourself the aggravation, it's disgusting." Marcus put down the megaphone he was holding while Benjamin explained. "Well, if someone's sick, I must go in." He tried to open the door, but Benjamin didn't let him because he knew that if Marcus opened the door, a giant vat of syrup was going to fall on his head.

"Move aside, Benjamin."

"No, really, I insist. You can't go in there," said Benjamin. "He's highly contagious."

"Actually," Edward stopped watching the mess Benjamin he got himself into and decided to do something about it. "we're all quite fine in here unless Benjamin Styles knows something we don't know. I insist, open the door and see for yourself."

"Stand aside, Styles." Marcus pushed him away, and the minute he pulled the door open, a giant vat of syrup poured down on his head. Maggie pushed him to save him, but she stepped right under the bucket. So, she hit him in the back again, and they fell into the room.

As Marcus helped Maggie to get up, she grabbed a doll swinging from the ceiling. The moment she pulled the doll despite Benjamin's yells, she pulled on the fan, and feathers fell from it like snow, sticking to them and making them look like chickens.

"I told you it was a mess in here," Benjamin said with an anxious look on his face.

"He should know, he did it!" Edward yelled.

"You and you," Marcus pointed Edward and Benjamin. "pack your bags!"

The next thing they were walking through trees with their bags thinking that their parents were on the way to get them. Benjamin could only imagine how mad his father was, and Edward was afraid that his mother was only going to be disappointed in him. When they finally stopped at the beginning of the stairs, both of them were confused.

"You two are going to spend your time in the isolation cabin for the rest of the camp," Marcus said with a smile on his face, and Maggie pointed the cabin.

Benjamin and Edward looked at each other with disgust. The only thing the pair wanted was to face the wrath of their parents rather than staying in the same cabin for four weeks.

The first night in the isolation cabin was a total nightmare. The only thing Edward could think of was how disappointed his mother would be if she heard everything. If he told Benjamin what he thought about, he would call him mother's boy. But he didn't care. His mother was his best friend, and Edward was terrified of making her sad. His mother was everything to him, and her every word, and every thought was precious. Plus, this camp was a golden ticket to figuring out how to make friends, but now, thanks to Benjamin, he had lost that opportunity, too.

Benjamin was honestly making him crazy. The way he talked, the way he acted, even the way he looked. They were so different from each other. He couldn't figure out if it intimidated him or annoyed him. They didn't have a single thing in common, not that Edward knew anything about Benjamin, but it still felt like they were complete opposites.

On the other side of the room, Benjamin was angry, annoyed, and anxious. And all those emotions were making him overwhelmed. First, he was angry, he didn't know if it was for himself or the boy across the room, but he was angry. He was annoyed because the reason he had gone to that camp in the first place was to have fun, but now Benjamin was stuck in the same room with the most terrible person he had ever met and was far from having fun. And he was anxious because all he could think about his father talking to the camp counselor and apologizing for the things he had done, more than once.

Benjamin could only imagine the look on his father's face. He would be so disappointed as if he weren't enough. His green eyes would pierce through his head, and he would lecture him until he apologized. Benjamin adored his father expect those times. They had a great relationship and a lot of common interests. Harry was a great dad, he was, but being a single father meant that he had to be both the bad and the good cop. And it was the hardest part.

Benjamin was so much like his mother, Harry didn't know how to tame him. Even though Benjamin looked exactly like his father, he was nothing like him. Every word, every gesture, every eye roll was like his mother, and it drove Harry crazy. But how much Edward was like Harry, drove Y\N crazy more. Not only with his long curly hair, green piercing eyes, and identical smile but also with his personality. Edward was everything Harry had ever been. Even the music he listened to reminded her of Harry.

It was disturbing how much they took after their parents, but both of them didn't know. Y\N sometimes thought what if Harry was the parent who raised Edward, not her. He loved music. Would he be more interested in singing, or would he still have social anxiety with Harry without all the paranoia Y\N had?

Questions made both Harry and Y\N wonder about things they could have had if they hadn't been stubborn. If Harry chased after Y\N, If Y\N stayed and talked instead of running away. Now, the only thing their children thought as moon lightened the room in their beds was, without knowing the other thought about the same thing too, if they hadn't been way more stubborn than their parents, would this feud could be a friendship.

Only if they knew how much time it took to build a fellowship.

TAGLIST; @yllwtaxi @meredithhuntt @soullessbabee @xoxoellll @2kayla64 @sometrueaffection @fromthedt @angelbabyivy @harrymarvel @kisskillstudio

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #one direction #one direction imagine #the parent trap #the parent trap au moodboard #harry styles the parent trap au #the parent trap au

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minervacasterly · 4 years

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The caricature of Margaret Beaufort:

From pop culture POV and the POV of those influenced by it, this powerful matriarch is all of the following: Religious nut case! Bitch. She killed the princes in the tower! Old and ugly! Screw her! She and her son were the worst thing that happened to England!

And yet her son became the founder of a dynasty that reigned for more than a century and continues to fascinate us. Now on to the real Meg Beaufort. In the White Queen she is all this and that but the real Meg was no religious nut case and she certainly didn't plan the murder of the Princes and you can debate me countless times on this but there is no concrete evidence that she did! Richard had more than enough motive and opportunity to kill the Princes and oh wait before I get the Ricardians on my case, I don't hate Richard. I actually find him interesting, I wouldn't find him interesting if he was perfect. Richard had learned from his brother's mistakes but made mistakes of his own. If he produced the boys then that would've propelled them to sainthood and the last thing he wanted was a cult was already building around Henry VI. What happened with this last monarch is fascinating and you might be wondering -hey! Isn't that the guy they smothered with a pillow in the White Queen? Yeah, that's the one. Except there are so many theories abounding to his death. The first one comes from Bettini who wrote three weeks after the Lancastrian king's death that it was Edward NOT Richard who gave the order. At the time the blame was solely pinned on Edward, so let's not confuse contemporary sources with secondary. Rous and Vergil writing in the Tudor period pinned the murder on Richard and even early Ricardians say that he did it, but with one major difference -*under* Edward's orders. If this is so, one thing we can all agree, if Richard gave the order or personally took care of Henry, it was all done under his brother's command. But this backfired, soon people were attributing all sorts of miracles to this guy, he became more famous in death than he had ever been in life. Edward tried hard to suppress this cult but he couldn't and Richard did the next best thing. If you can't beat them, join 'em! He cashed in on the cult and officiated a reburial of the dead monarch and started all new kinds of celebrations for him but people still talked as they always do. Now if he had produced the dead children as he and his brother had done with the Lancastrian king, then it would've been chaos, complete and utter chaos!

Margaret Beaufort's sole aim up until the princes disappearance in the summer of 1483 was to gain back her son's lands and bring him back safely. She was forced to give him up before after the Lancaster line had been wiped out from the face of the earth by Yorkist forces, ending to some historians' view, the wars of the roses in 1471. Margaret would not see him until the aftermath of Bosworth in 1485. She had little to worry about the first years of his exile, he was with his uncle Jasper, his father's brother. They intended to sail to the French court, a court his uncle knew very well but landed in Brittany instead because of the bad weather. Brittany was not on good terms with the French and they had their fair share of enmity with the English so it served the Duke well to have two valuable English hostages, one who had a considerable (if debatable) claim to the English throne via his mother. Edward attempted to coax the old Duke into give up his charge and while the Duke never believed Edward's intentions, some of his ministers did and those who didn't just wanted to cash in on the juicy rewards. Henry was an intelligent youth who was far from the serious and mama's boy he's depicted in today's fiction. He loved to laugh, play, joke and gamble. But he was aware how valuable he was and at one point feigned sickness and took sanctuary in a church when he suspected his future voyage to England was a hoax -which it was -and that small trickery on his part saved him.

By 1480, Margaret had more than enough to worry, but she wasn't giving up on her son's legacy. With Edward's promise to marry him to his eldest daughter, Margaret continued to rely on the faith that gave comfort to so many women in this period, and Edward's promise, albeit a fake one, was something she never let go of. The accession of Richard and Anne changed all that. Always an opportunist at heart, she tried to curry favor with the new regime. Whether she agreed with it or not -we will never know but her husband was an official in Richard's government and she had more than enough reason to believe that Richard would grant her her request to bring her son back. After all he was more busy convincing everyone his brother had never been legally married to Elizabeth and securing his position. But surprise, surprise for Margaret and everyone involved. Her life was never easy, it was one obstacle after another and this was no different. The boys' disappearance changed everything and Buckingham's rebellion gave her a chance she had never considered before. Her moment to shine had come. She was no longer looking to bring her son back as a mere earl but as a king so she started plotting with the queen dowager through her Welsh doctor. After a lot of plotting and intrigue and tragedy at Richard's court, her son's shining moment came and thanks to the defection of his stepfather from Richard's camp to his side, he won. There is a famous myth that his stepfather, Thomas Stanley found the crown in a thorn bush but this is likely Tudor propaganda. Richard's treatment afterwards was one that's always given by the victor to the loser, stripped of all his clothes and shamefully paraded, he was then written as the worst monarch that ever lived.

And while I do agree there needs to be a better assessment of Richard, doing the same to Margaret and Richard is just as dumb. She was born in 1443 and a year after, John Beaufort, her father and Duke of Somerset died. Many said at the time that it was because of suicide because of his terrible leadership in France. Truth or not, Margaret was now a wealthy heiress and her wardship was widely sought after. William de la Pole, the crown's favorite tried to marry her to his son, but after he was murdered, at only nine years old Margaret was brought to court to swear that she never intended to marry his son. Later she rewrote history saying that it was because of a godly vision that told her that it was her destiny to marry Edmund Tudor and establish a great house, that she denied it. Margaret married at only 12 and Edmund Tudor, anxious to get his hands on her wealth, didn't bother to wait. He impregnated her less than a year after and she gave birth in January 1457 when she was months away from being 14, to her only offspring. The birth damaged her, she never had any children with her other spouses. She had a happy marriage with her next spouse, Henry Stafford and they celebrated their anniversary in big style every year and even housed Edward IV in their hunting lodged in one occasion. This doesn't sound like the power hungry, vindictive Margaret of TV. And that's because she wasn't! She was very learned and founded and refounded many colleges, chief among them: Christ's College which had previously been God's House and St. John's in Cambridge. Aware that only the privileged few could attend these institutions she voiced her concerns in 1479, and her attempts bore fruit when Wimborne College was established posthumously in 1509, which was later renamed Queen Elizabeth's school. She also established the Lady Margaret Beaufort Professorship of Divinity at Cambridge in 1502 and the first women's college in Oxford was named after her.

In spite of her joy of seeing her son crowned, she could not help herself. Fisher and many contemporaries described how she cried -a clear sign of a woman that doesn't care about power- and when asked why, she responded because she had lived through so many kings and princes who had been murdered and killed in battle. Who knew if her son was next or if his reign would last. She cried the same tears of grief on her grandson's joint coronation with Katherine, fearing that his reign would face the same troubles.

Margaret passed away days after in 1509, after a long life of hardship and triumph.

#history #tudors #dailytudors #margaret beaufort

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fallen-gravity · 4 years

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Fightin’ Back Chapter 3

Chapter Notes: Final stretch, boys! This is the last chapter that takes place in season one before we get into the heavier themes of season two. Boyz Crazy this time, and probably the only emotional hurt/comfort chapter of the entire fic.

So, uh, this has actually been up on AO3 for a few days already, but it completely slipped my mind to post the tumblr link until now. My bad 😂

AO3

The car is uncomfortably quiet as Stan pulls away from Lookout Point. Dipper’s leaning against the passenger side door, staring into the mirror like if he stares at Wendy long enough she’ll notice and chase after them to apologize to him for snapping at him. Stan taps at the steering wheel rhythmically, just to get some sort of noise to break the tension in the air, and Dipper sighs.

It’s sad, really. The kid had been so excited to split Wendy and Robbie up before they left that he tried to insist on driving the golf cart up there himself. But he had no idea where Lookout Point even was, and Stan was sure someone was finally going to notice that the golf karts were stolen from the Northwest Golf Course, so he offered to drive him there in the car instead. And even then, the kid had been so excited he was bouncing in his seat the entire drive over. Stan’s sure he would’ve neglected the seatbelt altogether if he hadn’t reached over and clicked it into place for him. He was going on and on and on about code deceptions and the supernatural and how Robbie must’ve gotten the CD at some evil black market, or maybe he really did burn the CD himself and he’s secretly a vampire demon or something, and how that reminds him that he should “try mixing some salt into his spray bottle of holy water the next time he’s out demon hunting”, but now that everything’s over and done with and Wendy bitterly insisted she’d rather walk home than be with any of them right now, Dipper’s looking more like a sick puppy limping home with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Ah, don’t think too much into it, kid” Stan says, and Dipper finally breaks free from his mirror trance to spare him a defeated look in his eyes. “The breakup’s still fresh. I bet by this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you, swooning over how you saved her from that horrible monster”.

Dipper doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow at him and goes right back into staring out the window. Least they’re too far away for him to still be staring at Wendy out the rear view mirror.

“I mean it!” Stan barks a laugh. “Never got to finish that story I was telling you earlier. So after Carla ran off with that hippie, I stuck around to see how things were going with her. I was sure there was something about him that he wasn’t telling her.” He pounds at his chest with one of his fists. “And I was right! Turns out the dude’s guitar was, uh, cursed. So one day while he was sleeping I broke into his apartment and smashed the thing to pieces. After he had nothing left to show for himself, Carla came running back to me. Even drove the guy’s van into the ravine just so he couldn’t bother us again”

There’s a hint of a smile on Dipper’s face. “I don’t think I’d sink low enough to break the law, Grunkle Stan.” He pulls himself away from the window. “Plus I thought you said she hated you for doing that"

Stan taps at his head. “You gotta work on your listening skills, Dips. I said he hated me for doing that”

Dipper rolls his eyes at him, the most Dipper thing he’s done since getting back in the car to head home.

“Look, my point is, you gotta learn to look at things more positively. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you now, but tomorrow? You never know”.

Dipper flinches at the idea, but this time when he sighs it sounds more like he’s trying to calm his own nerves than like he’s trying not to cry.

Stan pulls the car up to the back of the shack and unlocks the door. He steps out, and just as he’s about to head into the house he turns heel to talk to Dipper before the kid has time to run past him up to his bedroom to mope. “How’s about we sit in the living room with a couple a’ Pitt Colas and watch a movie to forget about the whole ordeal? Your choice”

Dipper mumbles something about movie night to himself, but only responds to Stan’s offer with a shrug. “I’m not in the mood. You can go in without me. I’ll come in when I’m ready”

Yeah, okay, Stan’s not buying that for a minute. He knows by now that when Dipper starts moping, the kid isn’t gonna move for hours. It’ll be two in the morning before he decides to come in, and even later if he accidentally falls asleep.

No mention that there’s child protection laws against leaving kids in locked cars.

…and that car-eating tree monster Stan’s sure he’s read about in that first Journal.

Screw it.

Stan gets back in the car, but Dipper doesn’t so much as blink when Stan closes the door behind him. Stan’s willing to believe that it’s because Dipper assumed he went inside, and whoa, okay, whoever put the idea in the kid’s head that he’s not worth the time of day is gonna need to start answering questions fast.

He turns the keys to start the ignition, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin when his door clicks locked on him. “Grunkle Stan?” he asks, once he realizes the car is pulling away again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Y’got cotton in your ears? I told you before, kid, I’m taking you bowling”

“Right now? I thought you were just saying that to make me feel better”.

“I was!” Stan flashes a grin. “But I never specified that you had a choice in the matter, now did I?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get so much as a word out, Stan speeds out of the driveway so quickly that Dipper’s head whacks against the headrest of his seat.

~~~~~~~

Friday nights are usually the busiest day of the week for the bowling alley, but when you know exactly the right kind of people and have just the right amount of bribe money in your pocket, you can waltz in and get any lane you want as fast as you want.

Dipper, despite all of this, doesn’t seem as thrilled about the idea of bowling as Stan is.

“Aw, c’mon, kid” Stan gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m letting you go first! Everyone knows the person who gets to bowl first is the person you need to beat. It’s a privilege, if you ask me”

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan” he fiddles with the laces of his sneakers. “I appreciate the gesture, and all, but...I’m just not feeling up for it tonight”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Not up for beating me at something you know you can hold over me the rest of the summer?” He scooches closer to Dipper on the bench. “Now I know something’s really wrong. This still about Wendy?”

He winces at the mention of her name like he’d just been slapped in the face, and Stan sighs.

“Look, Dips…” he pauses, trying to figure out to work around making this sound like the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with...anyone, let alone his own nephew. “Who needs women, am I right?” He raises the can of soda he’d bought from the snack bar in a toast, but Dipper only rubs at his arm awkwardly.

There’s gotta be something that’ll get Dipper to understand how many times Stan’s found himself in the exact same situation.

Well, okay, Stan knows exactly what’ll get him to understand, but if he goes around telling so much as Mabel, the kid’s dead to him.

He sighs. “Kiddo, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you, you’re dead. Not just to me, I’m talkin’ dead dead. Got it?”

That seems to be enough to catch his attention. “O-of course” he repeats, like Stan’s about to tell him the secrets to unlocking the universe. It almost makes Stan wish that his story were more interesting.

“Truth is, that story I told you about Carla ain’t exactly how it actually went”

Dipper blinks. “I…know. You told me that earlier”

“No, I mean…” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, none of it was true. Obviously nobody rocketed off into the sky on a rainbow, or anything, but...Carla and I hadn’t even been dating anymore”

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, and Stan chuckles.

“Well, we had been dating, y’see? But she’d just broken up with me a few days ago when I decided to stop over to the Juke Joint to see if she’d wanted to talk about changing her mind” he raises his hands in defense. “I only went in to talk. Scout’s honor, or...whatever it is your sister says.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I get in there, and that hippy really is playing his transcendental music up on this tiny stage they had there”.

He takes a hard swig of his soda like it was a shot glass. “But Carla was up there with him, y’see? She was singing to some...weird folksy song that I’d never heard of before. Didn’t even sound like she was singing in English.” He leans back on the bench, resting his hands at the back of his head as he turns his gaze to Dipper. “That’s how I knew I lost her for good. So instead of causing a scene like some kinda....jerk”, he catches himself, “I ran out into the parking lot and hotwired her new boyfriend’s van and hightailed it outta there”.

The gaze that Dipper gives him is sympathetic, but he’s also covering his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to giggle.

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Stan flashes a grin. “You don’t need girls to show you a good time” he raises his drink towards the television screen above their bowling lane, still flashing with Dipper’s name. “You can always have a great time with your Grunkle Stan! No chance of eventual heartbreak with me”

“I know, I know…” Dipper stands to play his turn, and pretends the weight of the bowling ball doesn’t tip him over as he chucks it down the lane. The ball careens off to the side at the last second, barely even scraping the surface of the pins. “But I don’t think that’s entirely what’s bothering me” His second throw knocks down all but two pins, leaving him with a seven-ten split. The screen switches to flashing Stan’s name, and Dipper turns to him as he returns to his seat.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Stan stands, pretending to appear dismissive in case it’s something Dipper doesn’t want to admit with all eyes on him. “You tellin’ me I just told you my biggest secret for nothing?”

Dipper blushes. “N-no! That’s not what I meant”. He sighs, looking down at his hands. “I mean, Wendy’s really one of the first people to really...accept me into her friend group.” This time he’s the one waving a defensive hand in the air. “Not that I’m saying I’ve never had friends before,” he squeaks, “...but they’ve felt…forced? Since Mabel and I were in a lot of the same friend circles, it just...always felt like they liked her better than me and only let me tag along because they knew I was related to her, or something”

Wow, okay, that hits way closer to home than Stan was expecting it to. He opens his mouth to comment, but it turns out that he’s not talking.

“But in comes Wendy, and y-yeah! Maybe some of it has to do with...other things” his face is turning pink, and he’s trying to hide in his vest. “But she’s so cool to me, and it doesn’t feel at all like she’s just using me to get to Mabel. Her friends like to make babysitting jokes whenever we tag along with them, but with Wendy it feels like she really wants us to be there” He sighs, and slumps against his seat. “What if she hates me? Or never talks to me again? Or she quits working at the Mystery Shack because she doesn’t want to be around me, or-or she does keep hanging around, but it’s just like everyone at school, and she’s only there for Mabel, but she’s too cool to cause a scene and tell me to leave, and-”

“Breathe, kid” Stan’s at his side in an instant, gripping firmly onto Dipper’s arm to help him back onto his chair before he falls to the floor. “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.” He loosens his grip on Dipper’s arm once the color starts returning to his face. “Tell me, you really think Wendy’s the kinda person to kick you to the curb like that?”

Dipper doesn’t respond right away, but he’s taking deep breaths, which is a good sign. “No, I guess not…” he physically turns his body towards Stan to look at him, probably to prevent another dizzying spell. “But she looked so angry at me, and she grouped me together with Robbie, and she’s probably never talking to him again, I’m just….so worried I’m gonna lose the coolest friend I’ll probably ever have”.

Stan shrugs. “Trust me, bud, you do not have to worry about that. Teenagers are just like that. Y’get angry, you need to blow off steam for a few hours, but come tomorrow you’re over it like it never happened”. Stan finally goes to take his turn, lobbing the ball down the lane like it weighs little more than a penny. It slips into the gutter, but at the last second it careens back up and knocks all the pins over. He grins, pumping his arms in the air, and turns his gaze back towards Dipper. “You should’ve seen me when I was her age! I’d break a window, I’d punch a jerk in the face, and then I’d be over it”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re still like that”

“Exactly!” he boasts. “And you don’t see me holding grudges against people who don’t deserve it, do ya? You know you meant well, Dipper, and I’m sure it won’t take long for her to realize that too.”

Dipper’s playing with the edge of his vest. “I guess so”.

“There, see?” Stan gently nudges him as he sits down beside him again. “Problem solved”. He says, but backtracks a little when he remembers what Dipper had said about his anxieties around making friends. “And if you ever need any of my advice on how to talk to girls without using any creepy mind-altering CDs, I’m your guy” he flashes Dipper a thumbs up, and it makes him smile.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I’ll keep that in mind”.

#gravity falls #my writing #team brawn #stan pines #dipper pines

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snakeboistan · 4 years

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHIOTA NAGISA

Thank you, Nagisa, for showing me that being kind and gentle doesn’t mean that you’re weak and also that the parts about you that you hate can be turned into your greatest weapon. You have been a role model for me for the past four years and I strive to be as wise and caring as you. Keep doing what you’re doing, you adorable little assassin, we’re all so very proud of you. 😍😊

Yes, I know that Nagisa’s birthday is during Summer break but shhhhh

(25 unread messages)

Akabane Karma: Hey there Nagi :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLUEBERRY! I can’t believe you are officially older than me. But don’t get your hopes up, just because you’re my elder, doesn’t mean that I will start listening to you. Just to show you how awesome I am, I decided to stay up late so that I can text you exactly at 00:00. But for real, I hope you have an awesome day and I promise to beat up anyone that ruins it for you ;) Nagisa, you are honestly the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you’re seriously like such a sweet and kind and honest and good person and I have no idea how someone as nice and forgiving as you ended up befriending someone as crazy and violent as me. You’re the only person who's never been scared of me and even though you hate violence you still stood by me and never tried to change me and you liked me for me. No one’s ever liked me without expecting me to change and I’ve never felt as comfortable being myself with someone as I have with you. Can’t wait to see you at school today - I got you a present. No I won’t tell you what it is and yes, you’ll definitely love it. See you soon.

Sugino Tomohito: Happy Birthday Nagisa! Hope that you have fun today! I just want to tell you that you are the best best friend that I could ever ask for and I am truly grateful for everything that you have done for me. When I first got kicked down to 3-E and was forced to leave the baseball club, I thought that it was all over but you came along and was the first person to actually sit down and listen to me and you offered to practice baseball with me and honestly, that really made my day. Dude, you are like this amazing blue ball of kindness and like seriously you are brilliant but you don’t nearly give yourself enough credit. I don’t know where you get your low self esteem from or what it is that makes you think that you are worth so little but I promise to remind you that you are cared for every single day until your next birthday and for the rest of your life. Okay, that probably sounded super weird but it’s early and my brain is like 60% baseball memes at this point. At first I hated losing my baseball friends and getting sent to this abandoned building on top of a death mountain but meeting you has made me realise that our crazy assassination classroom™ is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. From the day I’ve met you, you’ve been nothing but loyal and caring. You are the person I can talk and rant to and you’ll never judge me and you always know how to make you smile. And honestly, you are worth 1000 baseball teams. Don’t let your mother get you down. See you in class! Oh, BTW, my little brother says Hi.

Kayano Kaede: HIIIIII NAGISA! HOPE YOU HAVE A HAPPY BIRTHDAY FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART! I got you a gift and I hope you like it and no it’s not pudding but you will be getting some cake from that cafe we visited over the weekend. It’s not easy being the new girl and ever since I’ve joined the class, you’ve been nothing but an awesome best friend and you have always been by my side since the day we decided to have matching hairstyles (which might I say looks so much better on you than it does on me - UNFAIR!) I hope the rest of the year is filled with pudding and happiness and sweets and smiles and everything else you love

Nakamura Rio: Happy birthday to our resident blueberry cinnamon roll! Have a wonderful day ‘Gisa. I’m sure you will when you see what I have in store for you ;). You are seriously the most mature, innocent, pure little bean I have ever met - and definitely the most fun person to play pranks on! Dont worry, as the birthday boy, you shall spend 24 hours completely prank free. Yes, yes I know, I’m the best classmate ever. Dont need to tell me something I already know, sweetie. See you later, my fellow English lover!

Maehara Hiroto: Yo, dude, Happy Birthday! Hope you have fun and enjoy what we’ve got in store for you (no hints!). Like seriously you are legit the most awesome person ever cause you’re so sweet and innocent and can turn into this super awesome secret badass whenever you want to. Youre like the class therapist/medic/person we can always rely on and you never complain when we drive you crazy (cause I know that we do). I’m super proud of you man. Never change Nagisa. See you at school. (BTW - We still up for karaoke next week?)

Isogai Yuuma: Happy birthday Nagisa! Hope you have a wonderful day! I can’t wait to see you in class later. When my siblings found out that it was your birthday, they insisted that they make you a card.You are an irreplaceable member of our class and I’m so happy that you are part of it. Seriously, if it wasn’t for you and your ability to calm people down and talk people out of doing whatever crazy idea they came up with, I’m pretty sure I would’ve lost my mind. You’re always smiling and always participate in class without complaining and you always see the best in everyone. Keep on doing what you do Nagisa, the world could use more people like you. ( Oh and come to the cafe later, I got an iced bun on the house for you)

Fuwa Yuzuki: AAAAAHHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAGISA! CONGRATULATIONS ON SUCCESSFULLY SURVIVING THIS LONG ON EARTH! OOHH IM SUPER EXCITED FOR YOU TO SEE WHAT I’VE GOT YOU! Thank you for always going along with and listening to my crazy anime/manga rants even when you have no idea whats going on. It’s so much fun hanging out with you cause youre chill and youre always up for anything and apart from Takabayshi you’re the person in the class that get my references the most. Youre an amazing main protagonist and you deserve all of the screentime and lines you get - heck even your own spin-off show. For someone who loves heroes so much, youre doing an amazing job of being one yourself. Youre the best Watson a Sherlock like me could ever ask for and a really good friend for this manga obsessed Otaku! Love you and see you later!

Kataoka Megu: Happy Birthday Nagisa. I hope that you enjoy the rest of the day. As someone whose job is to watch over our … interesting class, having you around makes everyone else bearable. I’m sure that if you aren’t here to keep the peace I would’ve murdered Okajima months ago. You have always been really respectful and kind and I appreciate having someone as hard-working and loyal as you in my class. I always enjoy having our talks about equal rights and you have always been like a little brother to me (honestly, I prefer you over my actual older brother). See you later and please continue to stay the way you are.

Okano Hinata: Hey there Nagisa. Happy Birthday! How’s it going, little dude! Hope you enjoy yourself and have lots of fun today. Thank you for being one of the only boys that I can actually stand. You are such an amazing person to have in the class and you’re amazing at being someone that we can all come to when we’re upset. Plus you let us brush your amazing godly hair (seriously I’m jealous at how nice it is). If any main campus kids try to ruin this special day - come to me and I’ll sort them right out :)

Kurahashi Hinano: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAGISA! I HOPE YOU HAVE LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS OF FUN TODAY AND EVERY SINGLE DAY OF YOUR LIFE! CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU SO THAT I CAN GIVE YOU YOUR PRESENT IN PERSON AND THE BIGGEST BIRTHDAY HUG EVER! YOU ARE AN AMAZING PERSON AND I (AND EVERYONE ELSE) LOVE YOU SOO MUCH OKAY I HAVE TO GO NOW BUT BYEEEE

Kimura Masayoshi: Hey Nagisa! Happy Birthday! Can’t wait to see you at school!

Mimura Kouki: Happy Birthday Nagisa :) wish you the best :)

Yada Touka: Happy Birthday Nagisa! I hope you have a fun-filled day! You are a really sweet and nice person and I enjoy hanging around with you - especially when you join us girls on our girl trips to the mall. You’re like a little brother to me and I always feel comfortable when I’m with you. Love you and hope you have a nice day <3

Takabayashi Koutarou: Happy Birthday Nagisa. I hope that you enjoy yourself.

Hayami Rinka: Happy Birthday Nagisa

Okajima Taiga: Happy Birthday Nagisa. You are such an incredible person to have in the class. And thank you for always saving me from the girls when they get mad at me. Hope you have fun. I was going to give you some really cool magazines but when the girls figured it out they slapped me and said that they’d tie me up in the middle of the mountain and leave me there if I did so I’m just gonna give you something else that I made (with Sugaya’s help). I’ll show you it at school - I hope you like it.

Kanzaki Yukiko: Happy Birthday Nagisa. I hope you have a nice day and thank you for being such a good and reliable friend. See you at school.

Yoshida Taisei: Happy Birthday Nagisa! I’m so sorry for the grenade incident earlier and I am so happy Koro-Sensei saved you. Also like you are one tough guy, you know that right? Cause what happened with Takaoka, man you couldve beaten any of us up with your eyes closed any time. Stay awesome dude. See you at the mountain

Hara Sumire: Happy Birthday Nagisa. I’ve made some sushi just for you. I hope you like it. As your official unofficial mother, I hope you have fun today and I can’t wait to see you later.

Sugaya Sosuke: Happy Birthday Nagisa. Thank you for being around and seeing the good in all of us even when we don’t see it ourselves. You always know how to inspire us and you are going to be an awesome grown up when you’re older. You always appreciate everyone and you know exactly how to pick us up when we’re down. I hope you like your present (you’ll get it later)

Okuda Manami: Happy Birthday Nagisa! I hope you have a wonderful day today. I just want to say thank you for being my friend and always encouraging me and helping me. You always know how to cheer me up and include me. See you at school.

Chiba Ryuunosuke: Happy Birthday Nagisa

Hazama Kirara: Happy Birthday fellow literature lover. I really enjoy talking about gothic literature with you - your analysis of themes and context is always very insightful and interesting and I enjoy spending time with you. If you ever need to escape, you can always come to me. PS - my offer to curse your mother is still up.

Muramatsu Takuya: Happy Birthday Nagisa. Hope you have fun. I made you some ramen (don’t worry its not my dad’s recipe so you’ll be good)

Terasaka Ryouma: Sup Shiota, Happy Birthday. I just want to say that I’m really sorry for being an a**hole and treating you like a jerk - especially forcing you to wear that grenade at the beginning of the year. You’re really good at assassination and you’ve got some serious moves. I dont really know what to say but you can always hang out with my gang whenever you want.

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Slept Ons: The Best Records of 2020 That We Never Got Around To

Tattoos and shorts! How did we miss the Oily Boys?

It happens pretty much every year. After much fussing and second-guessing, the year-end list gets finalized, set in stone really, encapsulating 12 months of enthusiastic listening, and surely these are the best ten records anyone could find, right? Right? And then, a day or a week later, someone else puts up their list or records their year-end radio show, and there it is, the record you could have loved and pushed and written about…if only you’d known about it. My self-kick in the shins came during Joe Belock’s 2020 round-up on WFMU when he played the Chats. Others on our staff knew, earlier on, that they weren’t writing about records they loved for whatever reason — work, family, mp3 overload, etc. Except now they are. Here. Now. Enjoy.

Contributors include me (Jennifer Kelly), Eric McDowell, Jonathan Shaw, Justin Cober-Lake, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Ian Mathers, Andrew Forell, Michael Rosenstein and Patrick Masterson.

The Chats — High Risk Behavior (Bargain Bin)

High Risk Behaviour by The Chats

Cartoonishly primitive and gleefully out of luck, The Chats hurl Molotov cocktails of punk, bright and exploding even as they come. They’re from Australia, which totally makes sense; there’s a sunny, health-care-subsidized, devil-may-care vibe to their down-on-their luck stories. Musically, the songs are stripped down like Billy Childish, sped up like the Ramones, brute simple like Eddy Current Suppression Ring. Most of them are about alcohol: drinking, being drunk, getting arrested for being drunk, eating while drunk…etc. etc. But there’s an art to singing about getting hammered, and few manage the butt-headed conviction of “Drunk & Disorderly.” Its jungle rhythms, vicious, saw-toothed bass, quick knife jabs of guitar frame an all-hands drum-shocked chant: “Relaxation, mood alteration, boredom leads to intoxication.” Later singer Eamon Sandwith cuts right to the point about romance with the couplet, “I was cautious, double wrapped, but still I got the clap.” The album’s highlights include the most belligerently glorious song ever about cyber-fraud in “Identity Theft,” whose shout along chorus buoys you up, even as the dark web drains your savings account dry. The album strings together a laundry list of dead-end, unfortunate situations, one after another truly hopeless developments, but nonetheless it explodes with joy. Bandcamp says the guitar player has already left—so you’re too late to see the Chats live—but it must have been fun while it lasted.

Jennifer Kelly

Oliver Coates — skins n slime (RVNG Intl)

skins n slime by Oliver Coates

2020 was a year of loss, of losing, of feeling lost. Whether weathering the despair of illness and death, the discomfort of displacement or the drift of temporal reverie, English cellist Oliver Coates creates music to reflect all this and more on skins n slime. Using modulators, loops and effects, Coates employs elements from drone, shoegaze and industrial to extend the range of the cello and conjure otherworldly sounds of crushing intensity and great beauty. Beneath the layering, distortion and dissonance, the human element remains strong. The tactility of fingers and bow on strings and the expressive essence of tone form the core of Coates composition and performance. If his experiments seem a willful swipe at the restrictions of the classical world from whence he came, the visceral power of a track like “Reunification 2018”, which hunkers in the same netherworld as anything by Deathprod or Lawrence English, the liminal, static bedecked ache of “Honey” and the unadorned minimalism of “Caretaker Part 1 (Breathing)” are works of a serious talent. skins n slime is an album to sit with and soak in; allow it to percolate and permeate and you’ll find yourself forgetting the outside world, if only for a while.

Andrew Forell

Bertrand Denzler / Antonin Gerbal — Sbatax (Umlaut Records)

Sbatax by Denzler - Gerbal

Tenor sax player Bertrand Denzler and drummer Antonin Gerbal released this duo recording last summer which slipped under the radar of many listeners. Denzler is as likely to be heard these days composing and performing pieces by others in the French ensemble ONCEIM, playing solo, or in settings for quiet improvisation. But he’s been burning it up as a free jazz player for years now as well. Gerbal also casts a broad net, as a member of ONCEIM, deconstructing free bop in the group Peeping Tom, or recontextualizing the music of Ahmed Abdul-Malik along with Pat Thomas, Joel Grip and Seymour Wright in the group Ahmed amongst many other projects. The two have worked together in a variety of contexts for a decade now, recording a fantastic duo back in 2014. Sbatax, recorded five years later at a live performance in Berlin is a worthy follow-up.

Gerbal attacks his kit with ferocity out of the gate, with slashing cymbals and thundering kit, cascading along with drubbing momentum. Denzler charges in with a husky, jagged, repeated motif which he loops and teases apart, matching the caterwauling vigor of his partner straightaway. Over the course of this 40-minute outing, one can hear the two lock in, coursing forward with mounting intensity. Denzler increasingly peppers his playing with trenchant blasts and rasping salvos, riding along on Gerbal’s torrential fusillades. Throughout, one can hear the two dive deep in to free jazz traditions while shaping the arc of the improvisation with an acute ear toward the overall form of the piece. Midway through, Denzler steps back for a torrid drum solo, then jumps back in with renewed dynamism as the two ride waves of commanding potency and focus to a rousing conclusion, goaded on by the cheering audience. Anyone wondering whether there is still life in the tenor/drum duo format should dig this one up.

Michael Rosenstein

Kaelin Ellis — After Thoughts (self-released)

After Thoughts by KAELIN ELLIS

To be sure, “slept on” hardly characterizes Kaelin Ellis in 2020. After a trickle of lone tracks in the first months of the year, a Twitter video posted by the 23-year-old producer and multi-instrumentalist caught the attention of Lupe Fiasco, quickly precipitating the joint EP House. It’s a catchy story from any number of angles — the star-powered “discovery” of a young talent, the interconnectedness of the digital age, the silver linings of the COVID-19 pandemic — but it risks overshadowing Ellis’s two 2020 solo records: Moments, released in the lead-up to House, and After Thoughts, released in October. It doesn’t help that each album’s dozen tracks scarcely add up to as many minutes, or that the producer’s titles deliberately downplay the results. And some, of course, will judge these jazzy, deeply soulful beats only against their potential as platforms for some other, more extroverted artist. “I’d like to think I’m a jack of all trades,” Ellis told one interviewer, “but in all honesty my specialty is creating a space for others to stand out.”

Yet as with all small, good things, there’s reward in savoring these miniatures on their own terms, and After Thoughts in particular proved an unexpected retreat from last fall’s anxieties. Ellis has a poet’s gift for distillation and juxtaposition, a director’s knack for pathos and dramatic sequencing — powers that combine to somehow render a fully realized world. As fleeting as it is, Ellis’s work communicates a generosity of care and concentration, opening a space for others not just to stand out but also to settle in.

Eric McDowell

Lloyd Miller with Ian Camp and Adam Michael Terry — At the Ends of the World

At the Ends of the World by Lloyd Miller with Ian Camp and Adam Michael Terry

Miller and company fuse the feel of a contemporary classical concert with eastern modalities and instrumentation. The recordings sound live off the floor, and give a welcome sense of space and detail to the sensitive playing. Miller has explored the intersection between Persian and other cultural traditions and jazz through the lens of academic scholarship and recorded output since the 1960s. With this release, the performances linger in a space where vibe is as important as compositional structure. The results revel in the beauty when seemingly unrelated musical ideas emerge together in the same moment, with startling results.

Arthur Krumins

Oily Boys — Cro Memory Grin (Cool Death)

Cro Memory Grin by Oily Boys

The title of this 2020 LP by Australian punks Oily Boys sounds like a pun on “Cro-Magnon,” an outmoded scientific name for early humans. It’s apt: the music is smarter than knuckle-dragger beatdown or run-of-the-mill powerviolence, but still driven by a rancorous, id-bound savagery. The smarts are just perceptible enough to keep things pretty interesting. Some of the noisier, droning and semi-melodic stretches of Cro Memory Grin recall the records made by the Men (especially Leave Home) before they decided to try to make like Uncle Tupelo, or some lesser version of the Hold Steady. Oily Boys inhabit a darker sensibility, and their music is more profoundly bonkers than anything those other bands got up to. Aggro, discordant punk; flagellating hardcore burners; psych-rock-adjacent sonic exorcisms — you get it all, sometimes in a single five-minute passage of Cro Memory Grin (check out the sequence from “Lizard Scheme” to “Heat Harmony” to “Stick Him.” Yikes). A bunch of the tunes spill over into one another, feedback and sustain jumping the gap from one track to the next, which gives the record a live vibe. It feels volatile and sweaty. The ill intent and unmitigated nastiness accumulate into a palpable force, tainting the air and leaving stains on your tee shirt. Oily Boys have been kicking around Sydney’s punk scene since at least 2014, but this is their first full-length record. One hopes they can continue to play with this degree of possessed abandon without completing burning themselves to down to smoldering cinders. At least long enough to record some more music.

Jonathan Shaw

Dougie Poole — The Freelancer's Blues (Wharf Cat)

The Freelancer's Blues by Dougie Poole

A cursory listen might misconstrue the heart of Dougie Poole's second album, The Freelancer's Blues. When he mixes his wobbly country sound with lyrics like those in “Vaping on the Job,” it sounds like genre play, a smirking look at millennial life through an urban cowboy's vintage sound. Poole does target a particular set of issues, but mapping them with his own slightly psychedelic country comes with very little of the postmodern itch. His characters feel just as troubled as anyone coming out of 1970s Nashville, and as Poole explores these lives with wit and empathy, the songs quickly find their resonance.

The album, though it wouldn't reach for pretentious terms, carries an existential problem at its center. Poole circles around the fundamental void: work deadens, relocation doesn't help, spiritual pursuits falter, intelligence burdens, and even the drugs don't help. When Poole finally gets the title track, the preceding album gives his confession extra weight, a mix of life's strictures and personal limitation combining for a crisis best avoided but wonderfully shared. The Freelancer's Blues comes rich in Nashville tradition but finds an ideal fit in its contemporary place, likely providing a soundtrack for a variety of times and spaces yet to come.

Justin Cober-Lake

Schlippenbach Quartett — Three Nails Left (Corbett Vs. Dempsey)

You might say that this record has been slept on twice. The second recording to be released by the Alexander von Schlippenbach, Evan Parker and Paul Lovens (augmented this time by Peter Kowald) was released in 1975, and didn’t get a second pressing — on vinyl — until 2019. So, Corbett Vs. Dempsey stepped up last summer, it had never been on CD. But this writer was so stumped on how to relate how intense, startling, and unlike any other free improvisation it was and is, that he just… slept on it. Until now. Even if you know this band, if you don’t know this album, well, it’s time you got acquainted.

Bill Meyer

Stonegrass — Stonegrass (Cosmic Range)

STONEGRASS by Stonegrass

Released on the cusp of a tentative re-opening for the city of Toronto after two months of lock-down, this slab of psychedelic funk-rock was the perfect antidote to the COVID blues when it arrived at the tail end of a Spring spent in near-isolation. The jam sessions that became Stonegrass were also a new beginning for multi-instrumentalist Matthew “Doc” Dunn and drummer Jay Anderson, who reignited a spirit of collaboration after a decade of sonic estrangement following the demise of their Spiritual Sky Blues Band project. Listening to these songs, you’d never know they spent any time apart. The tight, bottom-wagging jams on offer are evidence that these two are joined together at the third eye. Anderson’s grooves run deep, and Dunn — whether he’s traipsing along on guitar, keys or flutes — is right there with him. There’s enough fuzz here to satiate the heads, but the real treat here is the rhythmic interplay. Strap in and prepare to get down.

Bryon Hayes

Bob Vylan — We Live Here EP (Venn Records)

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Bob Vylan flew under the radar in 2020 successfully enough that when someone nominated them for the best of 2020 poll in Tom Ewing’s Peoples’ Pop Polls project on Twitter (each month a different year or category gets voted on in World Cup-style brackets, it’s great fun and only occasionally maddening), most of the reaction was “is that one a typo?” Nobody had that response after listening to “We Live Here” — my wife also participates in the poll, so we just play all the candidates in our apartment, and Bob Vylan was the first time both of our jaws dropped in amazement; the song got played about ten times in a row at that point. Bobby (vocals/guitar/production) and Bobbie (drums/“spiritual inspiration”) Vylan’s 18-minute EP lives up to that title track, fireball after fireball aimed directly at the corrupt, crumbling, racist state that seems utterly indifferent to human suffering unless there’s profit in it. Whether it’s the raging catharsis of the title track or the cool, precise hostility of “Lynch Your Leaders,” Bob Vylan have made something vital and essential here, that very much speaks to 2020 but sadly will stay relevant long past it.

Ian Mathers

Working Men’s Club — Working Men’s Club (Heavenly Recordings)

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It’s been evident these past few years that I’ve retreated from music and committed myself to the slower world of books as a way of giving my mind a break from the accelerating madness outside, but I could never really leave my radio family the same way I could never really leave Dusted. Another great example why: A fellow CHIRP volunteer played “John Cooper Clarke” in a December Zoom social I actually managed to catch, and I’ve been addicted to Working Men’s Club’s debut LP from October ever since. The quartet hails from Todmodren, a market town you won’t be surprised upon listening to discover is roughly equidistant between Leeds and Manchester; the album screams Hacienda vibes in its seamless integration of post-punk signifiers and dancefloor style. It’s easy to bandy about names from Rip It Up and Start Again or even The Velvet Underground in 12-minute closer “Angel,” certainly one of the most arresting tracks of the year, but the thing that struck me immediately is that this was the record I’d always anticipated but never got from Factory Floor — smart, aloof and occasionally calculated, yet still fun enough to play for any crowd itching to move. Until the community of a dance party or Working Men’s Club live set is once again possible, patience and a fully formed first album will have to suffice. You’ll have to imagine the part where I corner you at the party to rave about it, I’m afraid.

Patrick Masterson

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sparklestarofficial · 3 years

Text

About The Sparkle Force

The Sparkle Force is a TV show that is being filmed this summer. It is about 3 normal girls with some not so normal abilities. The TV show features Isabella as Sparkle Star, Dior as Sparkle Bubble ,and Emily as Sparkle Wave.YES the name may sound like the show Glitter Force (alot of people didn't like the show that much because it was an english dub of Smile PreCure) I am happy to anounce that The Sparkle Force is the next gen of Glitter Force and it is not copying ANY of the Precure movies or TV shows.

Emily/Sparkle waves story

The Sparkle Force begins with a girl named Emily (I know it sounds like Emily from glitter force but the actors name is actually Emily and she wanted to use her real name in the show). Emily thinks its Saturday and is late for school. She arrives at school and her friends Dior and Isabella are there. at lunch time, Emily Forgets her lunch and Dior gives her some of hers. After school, Emily is walking home and sees something sparkling on the ground. She picks it up and it is a blue seashell gem. She has no idea what it is or were it came from. She brings it home. Outside, There was a villain name Icarus. Icarus said " COME MY CREATURE OF EVIL! BRING DARKNESS TO THIS WORLD!!". A big dark purple yellow eyed creature called a Ravana came out of his hand and started destroying the city. In Emily's her bedroom, she is looking at the gem and wondering to herself what it is. All of the sudden, The window opens and it starts to get really windy. A blue seahorse jumps through her window. The seahorse says "Hi i'm Squirt!". Immediately, Emily starts freaking out because the seahorse can talk. The sea horse explained , "I am a pixie from a magical land called fairytale land! Queen magic sent me here to find the three legendary Sparkle Force warriors and i think that you are one of them!" Emily says "ME!? How can I be a warrior?!" Squirt hands Emily a small round compact, Squirt says "Open the compact and put in that blue charm you found!Then say Sparkle force makeover!" Emily said "But why?!" Squirt then said "Look outside! There's a giant creature attacking the city! you are the only one who can stop it!" Emily looked at squirt and said "ill do my best!" "INSERT SPARKLE GEM! Sparkle Force.. MAKEOVER! Sparkle bands! Sparkle boots! spectacular!! Calm and peacful, The source of life!! I'm Sparkle Wave!!" Squirt looked at Emily in awe "YAAY! YOU DID IT!!!" Sparkle wave smiled. She went outside and defeated the evil ravana!

(For this one i am gonna write it in parts)

Dior: Hello???

Emily: Dior!?

Dior: Hi, whats up?

Isabella: Where are you!? Class starts in 5 minutes!

Dior: WHAT!!!!!

Emily: Hurry up and get over here!

Dior grabs her bag and runs out the door

At School Emily and Isabella are waiting at the front

Emily: There you are!

Dior: Sorry, I didn’t see the time! I’m glad you called when you did

Emily: Thank Isabella. She is always so punctual.

Isabella: Well it was because Emily had her phone out so fast (checks time)

Isabella: Hey girls, we should probably get to class...NOW!! We are gonna be late! And I was really hoping I would get to show Ms.Flora this equation I spent HOURS solving last night!

(all walk to class)

Ms.Flora: Alright class! We are now gonna do math!

Isabella: Ms.Flora,

Ms.flora: Yes Isabella?

Isabella: I think i found out how to solve that equation from yesterday's math

Ms.Flora: Lets see!Yes… oh! That's right isabella! You really are my star student!!

Dior: Ms.Flora, I don’t really understand this question

Ms.Flora:Maybe Isabella can help you

Isabella: Lets see

Dior: here (points to question)

Emily comes over

Emily: Can you help me too???

Isabella: Sure!

At lunch....

Dior: Knock knock!!

Emily: uh..Who's there?!

Dior: TANK!!

Isabella: Tank who?

Dior: YOUR WELCOME!!

(All laugh but Dior laughs the hardest)

Emily: Good one Dior!

Dior: thanks!

Dior: hey! Wanna have a sleepover at my house after school!?

Emily: That sounds soooooo fun! Let me check with my mom

(Pulls out cell phone)

Isabella: I have to ask first too

Emily: Oh shoot! I can’t tonight, sorry. My mom said tomorrow.

Dior:aaaaaaw now we won’t have fuuun🥺

Isabella: How bout we just do it tomorrow? Then we’ll all be together

Emily and Dior: Ok! (Alł nod)

(Bell Rings)

Isabella: Oh! We better get back to class!

Emily and Dior: UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Isabella: Come ON!

Emily: Fine

(Pulls Dior)

After School...

Emily: Later Gals!

Isabella: Later!

Dior: See ya!

All Run off

At Emily’s house…..

Emily: Squirt? Twinkle? Pop?!!!!

Pixies: HI Emily!!

Squirt: I am so hungry, Can we eat some mac n cheese?!!

Emily: sure… if.. That's what pixies eat. ’ll go get some

Goes downstairs

Emily: (Yells) OK, Thanks Mom!

Emily: Here you go (sets down bowls)

(Sqiurt eats and Twinkle and Pop approach Emily)

Twinkle: Emily, we have something to give you

Emily: What is it?

(Twinkle holds out a star gem and Pop holds a bubble gem)

Emily: These look like-

Pop: These are the Sparkle Gems of Sparkle Bubble and Sparkle Star!

Emily: Who?!

Squirt: They are the other Sparkle Force Warriors

Pop: We need your help finding the rest of The Sparkle Force

Emily: I’ll do whatever it takes

At Dior's House…...

Dior: How do I take 99mm and convert them to centimeters?

(Diors Phone ring)

Dior: Hello?

Emily: Hey Dior

Dior: Oh Hi Emily!

Pop: It’s HER!!!

Emily: Who?

Dior: What?

Emily: Oh oh Sorry sorry, ummmm, um can I call you back

Dior: ok……

Emily: Ok thanks bye!

(Hangs Up)

Emily: Pop, what-

Pop: I think that girl could be Sparkle Bubble!

Emily, Squirt and Twinkle: WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In The dark domain . . . .

Icarus:(YELLS IN ANGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) SPARKLE WAVE! WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS!? THINKING SHE COULD BEAT ME!!!??

Flint: Maybe she has enough Brain cells not to fear you, Icarus.

Icarus: Huh!? FLINT! YOU NO GOOD, DIRTY LITTLE-

Flint: Step aside brainless, let me show you how to take care of that sparkle girl *cackles*

Back in the normal world

Emily:Ok, i am gonna call Dior again but you three NEED to be quiet!

Pixies: We will

Emily: good. Shhh

*ringing*

Dior: hello? Oh hi again

Emily: I am so sorry. My...dog had too… go to the..bathroom? *smiles nervously*

Dior: you have a dog?

Emily: um.. no.. you see it was my.. aunts! Dog

Dior: oh..ok

Pop: I CANT BELIVE IT ITS ACTUALLY HER! ITS-

(twinkle and squirt cover bliss’s mouth)

Dior? What was that!?!?

( tries to see)

Emily: oh..nothing it was just...my aunts..dog

( Pop jumps on Emily’s head)

Pop: hi I am Pop and-

(Pop falls )Pop: aah! Oof

Dior: oh my gosh Emily, your aunt's dog can talk!!

Emily: uh, I gotta go now bye!

(Emily hangs up)

Dior: that was...interesting

Back to the villains…

Flint: mwa hahaha! And now… to bring darkness to this world!

Flint: ravana, come out and make this world dark and miserable!

Ravana: hahahahaha!

Back at Emily’s house…

Twinkle: I feel the darkness of a ravana!

Emily:time to transform!

Emily: insert sparkle gem! Sparkle force makeover!

Sparkle bands, sparkle boots! So fresh!

Calm and peaceful, the source of life!.. I’m Sparkle Wave!

Squirt: go Sparkle Wave!

(Sparkle wave running)

Sparkle wave: we need to get rid of that thing!

Squirt: remember how?

Sparkle Wave: I think so!

(Sparkle wave focuses)

Sparkle wave: focus focus FOCUS!

Sparkle wave: sparkle force!! Splash stooorm!!

Sparkle wave:alright!

Squirt: uh, did you even try?

Sparkle wave: whaaaat!? I missed?!

Flint: ha! This girl is easy! Icarus really is weak!

Sparkle wave: I’m exhausted!

Pop whispers under her breath: we need Sparkle bubble. NOW!

(Pop goes out to look for Sparkle bubble/Dior)

Dior….

(Dior going for a walk)

Dior: it’s getting late but I am a bit hungry, I think I am gonna get some pizza!

Pop: bingo!

Pop: um hello?

Dior: you..your that dog..Emily had

Pop: actually I’m a pixie! Listen, we need your help!

Pop: Dior, you're a superhero!

Dior:ok first of all, how do you know my name and second of all, how am I a superhero?!

Pop: I’ll explain everything but first you need to come with me!

(Pop grabs Dior and pulls her by the arm)

Dior: WAIT! We're are we going!?

Back to the fight…..

(Emily falls to the ground)

Flint: RAVANA, GET HER!!

(Ravana picks her up)

Emily: *yells* aaaaah!

Meanwhile….

Pop: come… with...me!!

Dior: but… I don’t know who you are...or what you are!

Pop: I know , but that’s not important right now, you have to come with me!

Dior: fine!

(Pop brings Dior to Emily in the battle)

Dior: WHAT.IS.THAAAAT!!

Bliss: it’s a ravana, an evil creature trying to bring darkness to this world and mine.

( Dior sees Emily)

Dior: Emily? Is that..you?

Emily: *sigh* so much for the secret identity

Pop: Dior, you need to help her!

Dior: How!?

Emily: Use This! (throws over Sparkle gem)

Dior: What is this? And what do I do with it?

Pop: you use it to transform when there’s danger.

Pop: and this is your Sparkle gem (points to sparkle gem)

Dior: ok...what for?

Pop: it’s so simple it’s almost embarrassing!

Dior: but WHY IS MY FRIEND AT THE MERCY OF THE MONSTER?!?

Emily: Dior! You have...to do what the pixies say! Please!!

Dior: I’ll..I’ll try

Pop: hooray! Ok, put the gem in the sparkle pack and say the words, Sparkle Force Makeover!

Dior: *nods head*

Dior: Insert Sparkle gem! Sparkle force, makeover!

Sparkle bands!! Sparkle Boots! Oooh!!

I defeat trouble! I’m Sparkle Bubble!

Twinkle: yay! Now we only need one more!

Sparkle Bubble: WHAT.. Just happened!?

Pop: you transformed into Sparkle Bubble! You're my partner!!

( Dior was speechless)

Sparkle Bubble: I…… LOVE IT!! AND IT'S PINK!!

Pop: yaaay!

Flint: Ok Ravanna Crush her~

Pop: now go get your friend!

Sparkle Bubble: Yes!

( Sparkle Bubble jumps to save Emily)

Sparkle bubble: how… Do I do that exactly?

Pop: try to use your Bubble Storm!

Sparkle bubble: my what?

Pop:focus all your energy into this, your sparkle soul (points to sparkle soul)

Sparkle Bubble: I’ll do my best!

(Sparkle bubble focusing)

Sparkle Bubble: Sparkle force! Bubble..Stoooorm!

Ravana: *yells*

Sparkle Bubble: (Runs over to Emily) Are you alright???

Emily: I think so. Better get used to it since I bet this isn’t going to be the last time.

Sparkle bubble: (Laughs) whoooo! I am sooo tired!

Sparkle Wave: Ya get used to it

(Both laugh)

Flint: WHAAT?! DEFEATED BY A SCHOOL GIRL!?

(Flint disappears)

(Sparkle bubble and Sparkle wave untransform)

Emily: so? What did you think?

Dior: exciting but exhausting!

Dior: oh one more thing,

Emily: yes?

Dior: can we go get food?

*all laugh*

Squirt: now we only need one more Sparkle Force warrior!

Emily: Before we go get food, I am gonna call Isabella to see if she wants to come.

Dior: good idea!

(Isabella comes running up behind them)

Emily: oh hi! We were just about to text you to see if you wanna come get some food with us!

Isabella: oh sure! What are we getting?

Dior: ICE CREAM!!!

Isabella: sounds good!

With the ice cream scene…

Twinkle in Emily’s bag peeking out and looking at Isabella whispers to herself...

Twinkle: could it be?

Emily: this is so good!

Isabella: I know right!

Dior:ITS YUMMY!!

*all laugh*

Isabella’s/Sparkle Stars story!

At Isabella's house…

Isabella: And that is how you multiply decimals!

Emily: That was so fun!

Dior: And quite easy too!

Emily: Thanks Isabella!

Isabella: No Problem!

Twinkle: Emily!?

Isabella: What?

Emily: Ummmm NOTHING!

Dior: Isabella could you go get us some snacks? I’m starving.

Isabella: Um...ok

(Isabella leaves)

Emily: Twinkle!

Dior: What was that!?

Emily: ya, Isabella could have seen you!

Twinkle:Sorry, But i think that your friend Isabella might be the third Sparkle Force warrior

Emily: WAIT WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????? How!?

Dior: Twinkle, are you sure???

Twinkle: I’m Sparkle Star’s pixie and I know her when I see her.

Isabella: Hey guys, I’m back

Emily and Dior quickly shove the pixies back in the bag

Emily: Great!

Dior: Thanks

Isabella: So what do you want to do?

Emily: I KNOW!

Isabella and Dior: What?

Emily: We can do karaoke!

Dior: Good idea!!!

Isabella: I have a karaoke machine we can use!

All: YAY!!!

Pixies: YAAY!!

Isabella: What..was that?

Emily and Dior: SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Isabella: Are two you alright?

Emily: Yes fine!

Dior: Totally!

Emily: it was probably just my….ringtone! I’ll turn my phone on silent. (Glares at the pixies)

Dior: Let's do Karaoke!

Girls sing karaoke

Isabella: That was fun!

Emily: Ya! You girls sounded AWESOME!

Isabella: You too!

Emily: Thanks!

(Dior and Emily exchange glances)

Isabella: Everything alright?

Dior: huh? Oh, ya ya everythings fine

Isabella: Come on guys, I’m your BFF, I know when somethings bothering you

Dior whispers to Emily: Should we tell her?

Emily: I don’t know. Do you think she would even believe us?

(Dior and Emily look at Isabella and giggle nervously)

Emily: Can you give us a sec?

Isabella: uh I guess so

Isabella gets up and leaves

Emily:Oh I feel so bad lying to her but I don’t know what to tell her!

Dior: Maybe we should show her. They say seeing is believing so why not?

Emily: (Thinking) Ok, let's do it

Dior: (Yells) ISABELLA!!!!! You can come back now!

Isabella: Hi

Emily: Isabella, we have something we need to tell you

Isabella: Yes?

Emily looks at Dior

Emily: This is gonna sound crazy and you're going to be confused but you need to trust us.

Isabella: Ok…?

Dior: Well we are something called Sparkle Force warriors. We’re like superheroes, and we think you might be one too.

Isabella: Whaaaaaaaat? What's a Sparkle Force warrior? Oh wait, good one guys. Hilarious

Twinkle: HI!

Isabella: AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! WHAT IS THAT?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!

Emily: Twinkle?!

Twinkle: What?! I thought we were showing her!

Dior: That is a pixie

Isabella: What now?!

Isabella; I am so confused!

Dior: Giggles nervously

In the Dark Domain…

Flint: AAAAAAAAAAAH, SPARKLE BUBBLE!!!

Icarus: Looks like you're just as weak as me.HA

Flint: YOU LITTLE-

Thug: Could you two be QUITE!?

Thug: I'll handle those girls. Just leave it to the expert.

Back at Isabella’s house

Isabella: So you're telling me that you two are superheroes and I am too?!

Emily: nods slowly.

Isabella: This…… This is Crazy! There is no way You two are superheroes and there is no WAY I am!

Emily and Dior look at each other

Twinkle: It’s True Isabella! You are Sparkle Star! I know it!

Isabella: And you just expect me to believe a TALKING CAT!!!!??

Twinkle: yes

Emily: I know it’s hard to believe but-

Sky goes dark

Squirt and Bliss: IT”S THUG!!!!

Emily: Now there's another one! (Looks at Dior in panic)

Dior: Isabella stay here, Emily, Time to transform

Emily: Right

Dior and Emily: Insert Sparkle gem, Sparkle Force, Makeover!

Emily: Sparkle Bands!

Dior: Sparkle Boots!

Transform

Emily: Calm and Peaceful, The Source of life! I'm Sparkle Wave!

Dior: I defeat trouble! I’m Sparkle Bubble!!

Isabella: HOW DID YOU DO THAT!!!???

Dior: Now do you believe us?

Emily: We don’t have time! Come on!

They jump out the window!

Isabella: Wait!!! Where are you going? You know there's a door?!

Twinkle: Come on, they need your help!

Isabella nods and they run out the door

Outside……

Thug: This world is in for an unhappy ending! Ravana Come out and bring darkness to this world! Now I’ll just wait for The Sparkle Force to come out and then I’ll crush them!

Sparkle Wave: Hey You!

Thug looks down and see’s Sparkle Wave and Sparkle Bubble

Thug: Those must be the girls those losers Icarus and Flint were talking about!

Thug: well i am not gonna let Sparkle Wave rain on my parade

Thug: and Sparkle bubble better watch out!!

Thug: RAVANA!! SMASH THEM!!

Sparkle Wave and Sparkle Bubble dodge

Sparkle Wave: Sparkle Bubble, try your bubble storm!

Sparkle Bubbler: Ok! Sparkle Force, Bubble storm!

Sparkle Bubble: Misses

Sparkle Wave: No!

Ravanna hits Sparkle Bubble back

Sparkle Wave: Sparkle Bubble!!!!!!

Thug laughs and sees Isabella and Twinkle

Thug: She has a pixie? Very Well, Ravanna, GET HER!!!!!

Ravanna sends a blast at Isabella

Sparkle Wave: NO! Sparkle Force, Splash Storm

Emily hits the blast. The Ravanna blasts again.

Thug: Ravanna, again!

Ravanna fires at Isabella again

Emily: NO! (Jumps in front of Isabella) *Screams*

Emily gets thrown back next to Dior.

Isabella: No! Emily! Dior!

Thug: Wait a minute. She’s not a sparkle gal! Well then, Ravanna, Crush The other 2!

Isabella: NO!!!! (Jumps in front)

Isabella holding up Ravana: I know i said i didn’t believe you..erg.. And..i hope that...i wake up soon..and...this is all just a dream..But...errrrg..even if it is...your my friends and..uuf.. I won’t just let some...MONSTER...uuh...HURT MY FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!

Sparkle Wave: Isabella, here (Hands Sparkle Gem)

Isabella: What?

Sparkle Bubble: (helping Emily up) You can do it

Sparkle Wave: We believe in you

Isabella:(Thinking) OK! Insert Sparkle gem! Sparkle Force MAKEOVER!!

Sparkle BANDS! Sparkle BOOTS! Fabulous!

Sparkle Star: Something bright like the stars above!

I’m Sparkle Star!!

Twinkle: YOU DID IT!!! Now use your star storm!

Sparkle star: Alright. (Looks at The Ravanna) AND NOW!! To teach you a lesson!! NEVER MESS WITH MY FRIENDS!

Sparkle Star: Sparkle Force! STAR STOORM!!!

Twinkle: (She and pixies jump in joy) I knew it!! She was the one all along!!

Sparkle Wave, Sparkle Bubble and Sparkle Star all hug!!(and pixies join in)

Thug: ANOTHER ONE?!!?!?GREAT! Now what am I supposed to tell Icarus and Flint?!

Thug disappears

Emily and Dior: Isabella you did it!

Emily: You saved us! Thank you!

Isabella: Hey, No one messes with my BFFS

Emily: *sighs* I’m so glad you 2 are on the team, here I thought I was gonna have to do this alone

Dior: Your never alone

Isabella: cause you have us

Pixies: US TOO!!!

All Laugh

Isabella puts her hand out.

Isabella: Ok girls, legends on 3

Dior: (puts hand in) because we’re the Sparkle Force

Isabella and Dior look at Emily

Emily: (Puts hand in) Because we’re stronger, together

All: LEGENDS!!!!!

All hug!

#Sparkle Force #Sparkle Wave #Sparkle Star #Sparkle Bubble #Emily #Dior #Isabella

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