Post-good ending Robert and Dadsona watch some movies. No warnings.
After Amanda left for college, I tried to occupy myself as much as I could, to cope. Not having her around felt… unnatural but she was happy at her university and that’s all that matters. Amanda’s an adult who can take care of herself just fine.
The first few weeks were rough. It took all my Dad Powers to not call Panda every hour to check if she’s doing alright, if she’s eating healthy or… I’m getting too into it again.
Most of the time work kept me busy. I’ve also become way more productive in doing things like cleaning the house. So good in fact, I’ve run out of things to clean. I even offered to mow Brian’s lawn out of boredom.
Robert stayed true to his word and spent a lot of time doing… Robert things, I guess. We would often still hang out, of course, and he seemed to be taking better care of himself. I often remember what he said to me at Amanda’s graduation party. I told him that I’m happy to be a supportive friend for him, but sometimes it’s hard not to think about his stupid, attractive face. And his stupid knives.
A ping in my phone snaps me out of whatever I was doing.
It’s a text from Robert.
'wanna come over for a drink?’
Excited, I grab my jacket before shooting him a quick message saying I’m on my way. Two minutes later I’m at his doorstep. Robert opens the door, a grin on his face, and says hey.
“Not going cryptid hunting tonight?” I ask, following him to the living room, being careful not to kick or step on Betsy who decided to run around me in circles.
“Nah,” he turns to me, bottle of wine already in hand. He’s taken it down a notch with the excessive whiskey drinking. “I kinda just felt like watching a movie at home, that sound good to you?”
“Would be a shame to say no, considering you went through the effort of cleaning up.” I remark, taking in the changes of the room. After Val’s last visit, Robert became more self-conscious about the state of his house and started putting in work to fix it up. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but he’s hauled most of the trash out and there wasn’t an avalanche of things scattered across his floor anymore.
Robert snorted but was obviously happy I’d noticed. I know he felt silly about it, but it mattered to him to be praised for small achievements. He actually showered, too.
We settled onto the couch, Betsy scrambling up between us as Robert set up a film. Since Amanda left, we’ve been having movie nights more often. Sometimes in the cinema but mostly here in Robert’s living room. His TV set up is too good to pass up.
Today he put up some post-apocalyptic horror film and commented throughout the entire thing, pointing out the plot holes and ocassionally leading into another one of his made-up stories. I didn’t mind, I’m not a super huge fan of horror films so Robert’s jokes made the experience all the more fun.
The wine was soon gone and Robert stumbled out to get some snacks while I picked out something else to watch. Going through his endless DVD’s, I notice something on the far back of the table. Looks like a thin book? I move away a few movie discs to find a sketchbook. Doodles of Betsy, other dogs and people adorned the pages.
Huh, Robert draws? I mean… I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering he liked whittling. And he did find a lot to talk about with Amanda, I just figured he was telling her how to identify if her roommate was a werewolf or something.
Flipping through the sketchbook, I can’t help but smile. There’s tons of drawings of his daughter, both small and grown up. As if he was afraid he’d forget what she used to look like. There were also drawings of another woman, his wife, probably. And that looks like the scenery of the town from Robert’s thinking spot, and-
It was a little surprising finding my own face on the last page. Haha wow, is it hot here or what? Ugh, okay, this is no time to gush over how touching and adorable this is. I need to put this ba-
“What'cha so red about?” Robert’s voice boomed as he peeked over my shoulder. “Oh. That.”
His face dropped down all of a sudden and I felt a bit of panic seeping in my face.
“Sorry, I should’ve asked…” I realize how snoopy I was being but Rob just waved a hand at me before sitting back down on the couch.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” he sighed running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… embarrassing, I guess. I haven’t drawn in a long time.”
“You whittle but you’re embarrassed about drawing?” I snort, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously though, you seem kind of upset about it. Is everything okay?”
“It’s… I haven’t picked up a pencil ever since the accident. Since Marilyn passed away and Val… Well, you know.” He fell silent, his eyes shifting to stare through the window.
All of a sudden he looked tired again. Just like the first night we spent at his house. I watch him, still amazed how he’s able to go so on and off like a switch. Even after all this time, it’s still hard to read when or what Robert’s feeling. It makes me uneasy; I want to be able to help him, to say something encouraging. Make him feel less lonely.
“You picked it up again, though.” I say with a small smile, reaching out and taking one of his hands in mine. He turned to me but stayed silent. “I know this is a tough process for you but I want you to know that you can turn to me no matter what. I’m glad to see you getting better but there’s no need to hide and pretend that everything’s alright just to keep me happy. You mean a lot to me, Robert… I don’t want you to feel alone.”
He stared at me for a while longer before breaking into a small laugh, tugging on my hands and pulling me close to his face so our foreheads are touching. Ohhhh no, he’s too cute…! Pure thoughts. Pure. Thoughts.
“Why is it that you drive an old man to tears every time you say something nice?” He said, his eyes closing softly. Movies forgotten, he buries his head in my chest and pushes me down onto the couch, clearly not intending to move an inch for the rest of the night. Following his lead, Betsy curls up on my foot.
“Good night, then.” I snicker, nestling my face in his hair.
A muffled 'mmmhm’ is all I hear before he dozes off.
So I design an accent. I set up the little preorder page, like 4 people show interest. Yup. Sounds about right. I don’t expect to actually print the accent because it’s clear not enough people want it.
A couple weeks later, one of the people with a slot pings me asking about when I’m going to submit the accent.
I tell them maybe by the end of August given that I get more interest.
September rolls around and pretty much no one has posted on the thread since then, but they ping me again anyway asking when I plan to print.
I say, heck it, I hate confrontation. May as well print the stupid thing, so I ping the others. One is obviously on haitus, but the other two promptly respond with payment. Okay.
The person who was bugging me to print? No payment.
When they finally did send payment, they sent it was a 2-way CR, which I found extremely rude as they were already late with payment.
When I had finally gotten the accent copies in, I put one in their crossroad.
Waited two days for them to accept. Nothing. They were the one who wanted the accent so badly, and they can’t even accept the CR promptly?!
Whelp. That’s the story of how I was forced into printing a useless accent that has now cost me around 2000G out of pocket.
Summary: AU set 200 years in the future where things like flying cars and robots are the norm. Dan and Phil are flatmates and best friends. One day, while Dan’s out at work, Phil sees a light in Dan’s room. Upon investigation, he sees something which changes the way he feels about Dan, and will change their relationship forever.
A/N: inspired by this prompt : “you asked me to prom by filling my locker with ping pong balls that say “prom?” on them but i tripped on one and smacked my head on a locker but thanks for taking me to the nurse!!! i still want to go with you!!” taken from here
Really, Jimin shouldn’t be surprised by his bad luck anymore, but he still lets out a surprised and high-pitched squeak when his foot stepped on one of those stupid ping pong balls that had just cascaded down mysteriously from his locker and slipped forward, smashing his head against his locker painfully hard, loud thumb echoing through the halls and making everyone gasp loudly at the painful sound.
He groans loudly, hand smacked on his forehead trying to numb the pain of his throbbing head with eyes closed, not sure if it’s because of the pain or because he feels humiliated the whole school has seen him fall so ungracefully. He hears rushed footsteps approaching him and the sound of the ping pong balls being shoved away as someone seems to finally have the decency to go check if he’s hurt himself or not.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Jimin groans in response at the familiar voice but not really putting a face on it, eyes still closed because he’s starting to feel a bit dizzy. He hears movement, more balls being shoved away and then strong arms are lifting him up and holding him in place by his waist.
Jimin isn’t really sure what happens on the next ten minutes, he’s only aware he’s being lead to somewhere by someone whose apparently really strong because Jimin can’t help but lean all his body and weight against the warm presence at his side and the other doesn’t stumble even once.
He wakes up with a throbbing head and his eyes close again when the brightness in the room is too much for his pupils to handle. Jimin massages his temples and when his fingers reach up a bit further up his dry throat lets out a moan of pain. There’s a bun where his hair line begins, he can’t even pass his fingers softly without feeling pain. He sighs while siting up on bed, and then notices he’s in the school’s infirmary.
“Oh, you feeling better?” comes the soft voice of the nurse. She approaches him with a concerned expression, frowning when Jimin yelps in pain when her hand rests on his head. “Are you dizzy?”
Jimin shakes his head and then follows with his eyes the light of her little flashlight. She turns it off and then directs a soft smile at him.
“Fortunately it’s only a bump, it will be sore for days and an ugly bruise will appear but nothing to worry about considering you hit your head pretty hard.” Jimin blushes and lowers his head in embarrassment.
“It wasn’t my fault, some asshole put ping pong balls on my locker.” he explains grumpily, frown deepening when she giggles.
“Yeah, he explained that to me too.”
“He?” asks Jimin confused, tilting his head to the side. And then remembers someone brought him here.
“Jeon Jeongguk, he brought you here.” of course. Jeon fucking Jeongguk had to be. Jimin huffs in annoyance at the mention of that name. Of course Jeongguk would carry him to infirmary, it’s the least he could do after almost killing him, because Jimin’s sure he was the one who filled his locker up with those stupid balls, it’s something that idiot would do.
Jeongguk has been making Jimin’s life hell for the past year, always picking on him, making fun of his height or his too high-pitched voice for an eighteen years old, pranking him and always saying something that will make Jimin grumble annoyed and throw some insult back at the other.
Taehyung says Jeongguk does that because he’s crushing on Jimin, and every time his best friend says so he snorts and rolls hard his eyes because first of all, acting like that with someone you supposedly like is something only little kids do, so Jimin doubts Jeongguk likes him. Also, the other boy is the quarterback of the school’s football team, and that’s enough explanation as to why Jeongguk wouldn’t spare him a single glance. Jeongguk’s handsome, tall, broad shoulders and nice muscles, warm smile and bright eyes and loved by everyone. Obviously Jimin, an awkward teenager that passes rather unnoticed by everyone wouldn’t be Jeongguk’s love interest.
So he assumes Jeongguk is just a bratty and bored teenager who likes to have fun at the expense of another human being just trying to survive in high school.
“Can I leave now?” he asks, already resting his feet on the floor. She nods with a soft smile and lets him leave after making sure he really isn’t dizzy or stumbling on wobbly legs.
Jimin goes straight to his locker to see if he still has a mess in front of it that he doesn’t want to clean but will do if the dammed balls are still there. The halls start to get filled with people as classes have ended already, and Jimin can feel all eyes on him.
Taehyung is waiting for him there, shoulder resting on the lockers and fingers playing with one of the dreaded ping pong balls that Jimin finds himself hating with all his heart, but apart from that one resting on his friend’s hand there’s no trace of any more balls.
“Yoh.” salutes Taehyung with a frown on his lips, noticing the red patch on his forehead. “I’ve heard what happened to you, buddy.” Jimin sighs and shoos Taehyung away from his locker so he can grab his things. He opens the metal door, quickly stepping aside in case that bastard has decided to prank him again, but no deadly balls come rushing down this time and breaths a sigh of relief.
“It was that idiot of Jeongguk.” says Jimin, grumpily shoving his books inside his bag and then slamming the door shut again with too much force. He’s mad, so mad, his head hurts, probably the whole school is talking about his clumsiness and Jeongguk must be having the time of his life at his successful prank.
“You sure it was him?” questions Taehyung with a little tease on his voice. Jimin is about to respond to him but the amused stare his friend has makes him look suspiciously at him.
“What do you know?” he says instead of replying Taehyung’s question. The taller giggles and passes an arm around his shoulder, dragging him towards the exit of the building but instead of going to the parking lot, Taehyung leads them towards the back of the school and this makes Jimin’s suspicions grow.
“It’s just that I also think it was him, after all he was there when it happened and brought you to infirmary, so he was obviously watching from distance.” starts Taehyung, smile not leaving his lips. “Also it’s something he would do.” Jimin nods and his eyes catches the school’s football pitch where the football team is doing their usual training. “So I saved this ping pong ball for you to throw it at his head in vengeance.” Taehyung shows him the mentioned ball and Jimin grabs it immediately, ready to do what Taehyung has suggested, it sounds rather fair on his ears.
He approaches the field, his friend giggling in amusement next to him. He knows he’s going to get on trouble for this, after all he’s going to attack another student in front of a teacher but Jimin couldn’t care less, he’s sick of dealing with Jeongguk.
Jeongguk is near a bench, searching on his bag for something and Jimin thinks that now is the right moment to attack him, so retreats his arm, eyes focused on his target and ready to throw when he spots something scribbled on the ball and blinks confused at the word marked there in black sharpie. ‘Prom?’ it reads, and this makes him turn his head with a confused expression at his friend.
“It was scribbled on all the balls.” explains Taehyung with a wide grin before Jimin can ask anything, and lets the words sink in, allowing Jimin’s damaged brain to understand the meaning of that phrase.
“What?!” he finally squeacks, eyes as saucers looking at the tiny ball on his hands as it were some abnormal object. Taehyung laughs, tears falling from the corner of his eyes at Jimin’s expression and at the situation.
“When I heard what happened to you I rushed to your locker to see If I could get a hint of who did it and saw Jeongguk there picking up all the balls quickly.” he explains between laughs, “When I approached him he blushed madly red and ran before I could say anything and that ball fell from the bag he was carrying. I told you he has a crush on you.” Taehyung laughs again, falling on his knees and clutching at his stomach. “Stop it, this is not funny!” exclaims Jimin, cheeks tinted red. He’s confused as hell, not two minutes ago he thought Jeongguk tried to kill him and now it seems that the other only wanted to ask him to prom? Was this one of his pranks? Was he planning rejecting him if Jimin went to him to ask the other about it?
Jimin turns his head and sees Jeongguk now sitting down on the bench while drinking water. There’s a little frown on his eyebrows as if he is in deep thought, and it makes Jimin wonder if the quarterback’s worried about him. Jimin looks again at the ball on his hands, debating what he’s supposed to do now.
“Go talk to him, idiot.” says Taehyung still laughing, pushing him towards the field. Jimin stumbles on his feet, feeling suddenly nervous without knowing exactly why.
He stops a few steps away form the quarterback and then throws the ball at his head, hitting him square on the head softly. The taller jumps in surprise and turns his head with a scowl on his face that quickly transforms in panic when he spots Jimin’s face, opening his mouth to say something but Jimin beats him to it.
“So, you were the one who filled up my locker with a bunch of ping pong balls.” states Jimin more than asks, pointing with his finger at the white plastic ball resting on Jeongguk’s feet. The other nods, big doe eyes looking back at him in horror, and Jimin finds himself enjoying the other’s suffering. “And when I hit my head you brought me to infirmary.” Jeongguk nods again, swallowing hard.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“
“Are you serious about that?” cuts Jimin at Jeongguk’s attempted apologize, pointing with his finger again at the ball. He watches in amusement as Jeongguk blushes, and bites his bottom lip to prevent himself from laughing at his expression.
“I- I- well, I mean-“ Jeongguk is a stuttering mess, cheeks flushed red and hand scratching at the back of his head. It’s funny to see the always confident Jeon Jeongguk blushing and having a hard time.
“Why would you do that?” questions Jimin, eyes analyzing every move Jeongguk does. “I thought you hated me, you are always pranking and insulting me and now you ask me to prom?” Jeongguk averts his eyes, head hung low sheepishly.
“It’s just that you look cute when you are mad.” confesses the taller. Jimin’s eyebrow rises in surprise at that statement, and Jeongguk sighs before speaking again.
“Look, we have really different interests and groups of friends, so I thought saying those things or pulling little pranks on you would be a nice way to catch your attention.”
“That’s what you’ve been trying to do all this time? Catch my attention?” asks Jimin incredulous. “Why?”
Jeongguk snorts and rolls his eyes as if the answer were obvious.
“Because I like you.” he confesses blatantly, and now it’s Jimin who’s blushing. Jeongguk is an idiot, sure, but has never hurt him physically (well, until today but that was more Jimin’s fault). Now that he thinks about it, all the pranks and things he says are just teasing and bratty acts, not really mean and Jeongguk always is smiling softly when Jimin stomps his feet annoyed or yells something at him, so it kind of makes sense that Jeongguk may like him.
The shorter dares a look at Jeongguk to see him swallow nervously and eyes full of fear and insecurity, after all he just confessed and Jimin is supposed to give an answer.
“If you want me to go with you to prom, you’ll have to ask properly this time.” says Jimin with a cocky smile as Jeongguk gapes at him incredulous with a frown. He can’t believe Jimin is now playing hard to get after the confession.
“Do you…” he starts with a small voice, and Jimin feels his heart picking up its pace, he can’t believe Jeongguk is actually going to ask him “do you want to go to prom with me?” asks finally the taller after what feels forever and Jimin’s smile widens, white teeth showing and eyes almost closing.
Arthur tapped away at his keyboard, mindlessly adding bits of embellishment into the political science paper he probably should have finished hours ago. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to write up his thoughts on Marxist ideologies, of course (though he wouldn’t describe the process as his ideal way of spending a Saturday afternoon). No, rather, his progress had been hindered thus far by the constant stream of texts coming in from one Alfred Jones, who apparently was spending his Saturday exploring a city he’d travelled to with his “football” team. Last he heard, Alfred and his mates had been romping around some sort of a field museum in the few hours they had left before their evening match.
It was only a few more moments before a small “ping!” came from Arthur’s mobile and he quickly abandoned his essay and opened his latest message:
“Omg dude we just found a giant sloth”
Followed quickly by:
“Pics coming soon”
Arthur’s eyebrow quirked up and he felt himself smirk softly. He hadn’t imagined Alfred as the type to get so excited by a museum. Needless to say, Arthur’s curiosity had been piqued. He carefully replied, “I await them with baited breath.”
After another minute of adding more rubbish into his essay another message came, this time with a picture attached with the caption, “Look at the size of this guy! Friggin crazy” And, indeed, the skeleton was quite large. Alfred and a few others Arthur vaguely recognized had squeezed into the corner of the picture, looking rather small in comparison to the monstrous sloth-creature beside them.
Arthur’s attention quickly left the giant skeleton and rested upon Alfred’s stupid grin and the arms he had wrapped around the shoulders of the young men beside him. In spite of himself, Arthur felt himself frown, and he bit down on his lip to make it stop. He most certainly did not feel small stabs of jealousy poking at his innards whenever he received pictures like this, with Alfred draped all over people these people who got to spend so much time with him while Arthur was cooped up in his student flat hundreds of miles away writing a shitty paper. No. That would be childish, and Arthur Kirkland was never “childish.”
Leaving that idiotic train of thought behind, Arthur turned back to his conversation with Alfred and replied, “Yes, crazy indeed.” With a moment’s pause and a small chuckle, Arthur sent another message, saying, “It reminds me of you.”
He didn’t even bother turning back to his paper now. Instead, he kept his eyes on the screen, waiting for just a bit longer than usual before seeing a message saying, “I can’t see that comparison going well”
With a laugh, Arthur quickly wrote and sent, “You’d be right about that.”
A few moments passed, and then Alfred messaged:
“I wish I could see you saying that in person”
“You’re just smirking at all this aren’t you?”
Arthur smiled knowingly and tapped out his reply.
“Did you even need to ask?”
“Not really :D”
Arthur smiled idiotically down at those little words. This boy was going to be the end of him.
He wasn’t sure if he should start a new line of the conversation or wait for Alfred to start going off about something else, but before he got the chance to make a decision a new message from Al appeared: “Hang on a sec”
Arthur let out an impatient sigh, twirled his mobile around in his hand for a minute, and then decided that the smart thing to do would be to go back to working on his paper. Granted, it was more than a bit difficult to focus on the task at hand when most of Arthur’s mental energy was spent on listening for that stupid “ping!” that would put his mind at rest. Nevertheless, he was able to get in a good few sentences before the next message came, this one looking, strangely, quite wordy at first glance.
“Hello Alfred’s boyfriend, this is Antonio letting you know that Al got us kicked out of the exhibit because he wouldn’t stop texting so we confiscated his phone, lo siento”
There was just a beat of silence before Arthur let out a deep laugh and scoffed at Alfred’s adorable yet frustrating mindlessness. Was he surprised by this turn of events? No, no he was not. It was almost charming to think that Alfred had wanted to keep up their conversation so much that he would blatantly disregard museum policy. Almost.
Still, Arthur felt a bit guilty about having a hand in getting Alfred’s mates kicked out of the museum as well. He had no idea who this Antonio person was, but Arthur figured the poor boy deserved a reply:
“Good on you lad, I’m sure he deserved it.”
Arthur waited for a little while to see if he might get a reply, and sure enough one soon came:
“You are much more british than I expected”
“Also I should probably stop texting you as it seems to visibly upset Mr. Jones, although his cheeks are a delightful shade of red atm”
For what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes, Arthur let out a hearty laugh at the news of this turn of events. The thought of a jealous, red-faced Alfred was admittedly tantalizing. He quickly replied, “No, you should definitely send me updates on this apparent spiral into madness, it sounds entertaining.”
Okay, maybe Arthur Kirkland could sometimes be a bit childish.
In a way, it was sort of depressing, too, because you kept wondering what the hell would happen to all of them. When they got out of school and college, I mean. You figured most of them would probably marry dopey guys. Guys that always talk about how many miles they get to a gallon in their goddam cars. Guys that get sore and childish as hell if you beat them at golf, or even just some stupid game like ping-pong. Guys that are very mean. Guys that never read books.
Listen here you assholes I don’t give a frickity frackle about stupid ping pong bets or Dejan’s clothing line bullshit, you win Stevie a fucking trophy, you play your hearts out, you defend like you know how, you actually score like you can finish properly. Just #DoItForStevie