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kitkatscabinet · 2 years

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Pairing: Kaitlyn Ka x gn! reader (useless lesbian trope but no reader pronouns mentioned)

Word count: 1929

Summary: The thought of getting to spend one more night with Kaitlyn had left you hopeful, however, as the night devolves into chaos you find yourself wondering if you'll even survive to confess.

Sitting on the steps up to the lodge you found yourself sighing at witnessing Kaitlyn’s interaction with Jacob. You had been hardcore crushing on her for weeks now but knew you likely didn’t stand a chance against her thing for Ryan. Bringing a hand up to your face you laughed bitterly and squeezed your eyes, at least you weren’t the only one suffering. It seemed like all the counsellors had formed inclinations one way or another and no one was going to end up happy, especially Jacob who wasn’t taking being dumped very well. The clearing of said man’s throat had you jumping in slight fright, glaring now you whipped a hand out to lightly hit him in the thigh as the other went to hold your chest instinctively

“Jesus Christ Jacob, you scared the shit out of me” you said, finally huffing out a laugh at the satisfied smile on his face.

“You could just go talk to her you know” he replied cheekily, motioning his head over to where Kaitlyn was now standing alone. His words caused your skin to heat up and shoulders to hunch up as if to hide yourself from his knowing gaze.

“It’s a bit late for that now” you sighed out wistfully “besides she’s got a crush on Ryan anyway” your nose scrunched up thinking about it, missing the bewildered surprise on Jacob’s face. However, before he could interject Kaitlyn was yelling at him to hurry up with the bags. Shaking his head Jacob sent one last glance between the hopeless pair before making his way up the stairs.

Hours later you found yourself alone with the object of your current pining, waiting for the others to arrive for one last hurrah as the van had all of a sudden broken down. Mr Hackett’s behaviour had sufficiently freaked you out but the prospect of spending more time with Kaitlyn had ended up overruling all logic. The two of you were now sitting shoulder to shoulder on one of the logs causing your heart to beat furiously out of your chest. She was so close you could smell her, see the flecks of colours in her eyes, realising you’d been staring in silence for far too long you frantically shook your head and looked away. However, your sudden and erratic movement had drawn her attention as she worriedly took in your flustered state.

“Are you ok?” she questioned now looking you in the eye, confusion and slight worry present on her stunning face. Breath hitching at her closeness, at her concern for you, your mouth opened itself before your brain could catch up

“pretty” you blurted out before blinking in mortification at your useless brain “Uh, fine, pretty fine yeah… I’m pretty fine” immediately wincing as you pictured yourself banging your head against a wall repeatedly. Anything to erase the last few seconds from your mind, alas you had the feeling your behaviour would keep you awake for years to come.

Taking in your burning embarrassment Kaitlyn found herself unable to stop the laughter from erupting from her throat at how cute you were being. Adjusting herself slightly on the log you were both sat Kaitlyn slowly moved her hand to cover yours taking satisfaction in the sudden deer in headlights look on your face. Before either of you could speak up however, the arrival of everyone else had you bolting off, walking towards Jacob in an attempt to wipe the smug look off his face. Leading everyone except Ryan to miss the disappointment on Kaitlyn’s face.

Truth or dare had well and truly gone to shit, just as you had thought it would. The hope that had bloomed in your chest as Ryan choosing to kiss Dylan after making knowing eye contact with you had been dashed immediately at Emma’s actions. You had chosen to run after Jacob, loudly swearing at the influencer that she’d done enough damage and giving Kaitlyn a disappointed look for deliberately stirring up drama.

The sound of Jacob’s cries upon arriving at the dock had your heart breaking for him. You didn’t agree with his overly obsessive behaviour, especially after Emma had made it clear they wouldn’t be together but the woman in question had definitely gone too far. Sitting next to him the two of you commiserated over your shared love life issues, you had known Jacob for a few years and the two of you had bonded over a shared hidden insecurity. Unfortunately, the sound of a scream ha the pair of you running frantically back to the camp. You had been split up at some point having accidentally fallen down a ravine as you waved off your concerned friend, the man hesitantly continuing his journey to find Abi.

You were definitely regretting that decision now as you wandered for what felt like hours in the dark and muddy forest. Your phone had died and the natural lighting was barely enough for you to see your own hand in front of your face.

Unbeknownst to you Kaitlyn had started to panic the moment Jacob had come back without you, the only thing stopping her from rushing out to find you was the heavily injured Abi and Nick. Before the group had sent Jacob back out to look for you Kaitlyn had found herself grabbing his arm and promising retribution should anything have happened to you, only stepping away at noticing his own guilty face.

Screaming in frustration you kicked the tree next to you only to immediately regret it at the pain that shot through your leg. It had definitely been a few hours now and you were cold, miserable, dirty and most of all lost. You’d finally made it back to the fire only to notice everyone had left, a note indicating the group had returned to the lodge to treat Abi’s and Nick’s injuries. Worry filled you at that, what the fuck had happened in your absence. Yelling in frustration you turned around and began to trudge in what you hoped was the direction of the lodge. A sinister feeling creeping up the back of your neck was the only the thing that had you suddenly lunging to the left, barely avoiding being barrelled over by some sort of creature. The darkness made it hard to see but whatever it was was not to be fucked with. Breath hitching, you turned in a random direction and began a mad sprint, fear filling you at the sound of its movements gaining on you. Through the fear you found yourself wondering if you would ever see Kaitlyn again. If the look of disappointment you’d shot her would be her last memory of you, if she would mourn you if you died here, if she would ever even find out what had happened to you. Tears filling your eyes in fear of your possible imminent death and as you accepted the fact you would likely never tell the woman how you felt about her.

Chancing a look back you didn’t notice the branch in front of you causing your body to tumble down in a mess of limbs. Desperately turning around you reached your arms up in time to grab whatever it was by the face, stopping its gaping maw from sinking its teeth into your neck. You couldn’t, however, stop the claws from digging into your sides ripping an anguished scream from your throat. Muscles straining in effort, you cast your gaze around trying to find something, anything to help. Reaching for a loose branch just above your head you managed to swing and make contact with the beast’s head, stunning it and causing its body to fall to the side. Branch still in hand you once again made a dash for the direction you now knew the lodge to be, thank fuck for the signs littering the trails. The sound of a gunshot filling you with even more fear as you stumbled onto the lodge grounds, hobbling over to the pool house at the sound of a scream. Head now well and truly woozy and the loss of blood and adrenaline you found yourself making eye contact with Kaitlyn before everything went dark and your knees hit the pavement.

Kaitlyn had yelled your name, alerting the group to your presence as they watched her rush to your fallen body. Everyone froze in shock between Nick laying shivering on the ground and your passed-out form. A scream from the woman at your side had the group kicking into gear. Abi and Dylan grabbing the feeble Nick and Ryan rushing to help his increasingly panicked friend. Upon witnessing your ripped shirt and the slowly growing pool of blood under you Ryan found himself taking a staggering step back. Only coming back to himself at the feeling of Kaitlyn grabbing his pants, pulling him forward and desperately barking out instructions.

You weren’t sure how long had passed before you woke, sweaty and aching you blindly reached out only to be stopped by a set of hands and a voice you vaguely registered as Kaitlyn’s.

“No, no stop trying to move” she begged, pushing you back down onto the bed as your heavy body gave into her wishes. Trying to slur out your question you tried as hard as you could to listen to her explanations but your head felt as if it was underwater, only processing about 1/3 of what she said. A warmth encasing your right hand had you looking down to see hers entwined with yours in a desperate grip, confused eyes swinging up to meet her you found your heart stuttering upon noticing her already staring at you. You couldn’t quite decipher the exact look in her eyes before she was diving in for a kiss leaving you to squeak in surprise.

“Um, what” you said eloquently, brain unable to process the nights events as your body froze in absolute shock. Kaitlyn heaved something half between a laugh and sob at your reaction, leaning over to rest her forehead on your shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability.

“I’m so sorry” she spoke up, confusing you even further “I knew Jacob had messed with the van but the prospect of spending one more night with you was too good to pass up on… and now your hurt, Nick and Abi are hurt and Kaylee Hackett is dead and” she heaved a breath cutting herself off and bringing herself up to look you in the eyes again. You probably should have been way more concerned at her words but the kiss had stolen all your attention.

“You, I what… Ryan!” was what you ultimately blurted out smartly

“What about Ryan” she replied confused

“I thought you had a crush on him this whole time” you said, noticing her expression twist at that

“What, why would you think that… Hold on, you’re lying in front of me incapacitated and completely ignoring everything else I just said to focus on that detail” she said, her turn to be absolutely incredulous at the dumbass in front of her.

“Well I can only focus on one thing at time!” you defended “Besides, you’re the most important thing to me at the moment” you grinned goofily as you relived the kiss once again. Feeling suddenly emboldened you leaned up for another kiss, laughing as you found her relaxing into it. Everything else could wait, for now you were going to make the most of your time with Kaitlyn…as soon as you lay back down cause holy fuck were your sides aching.

#kaitlyn ka #kaitlyn ka x reader #the quarry imagine #the quarry oneshot #the quarry x reader #kaitlyn x reader

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

could you write something about the readers parents not liking her and harry comforts her please

ok this is going to be quite sad and angsty so hold on tight!

Y/N was crying in her room. Again.

This was turning out to be a daily occurrence now. Wake up. Get shouted at. Go to school. Learn how to dissect a frog and master how to write the perfect essay. Come home. Get shouted at. Sleep. The weekends, she didn’t get all the good in-between stuff, it was just waking up to be shouted at.

For what? Well not even Y/N could answer that.

Her parents had despised her since the day she was born, or at least Y/N presumed. She was never allowed to go out without permission from her parents. She was not allowed to eat certain foods, because “she didn’t need to be any fatter”. She wasn’t supposed to wear anything inappropriate. She wasn’t allowed relationships. Although that last one, she cheated on.

Harry had been Y/Ns best friend all through high-school, until they reached college and Harry couldn’t wait any longer to make her officially his. He wanted her so badly. She was his best friend but he craved for more. It took Y/N a lot of persuading, but it was the best thing she’d ever done for herself. Harry was kind to her. He treated her with respect and love - something she’d never had from her parents.

Having a relationship whilst being instructed you weren’t allowed one, made things very difficult. Harry could only see Y/N when she allowed him to. After finishing chores she would tell her parents she was going to grab food or cleaning supplies from the grocery store, only to go and spend a few hours with Harry in his treehouse. She would always come back with a bag full of shopping and made sure she covered the hickeys on her neck well. It would be hard to explain their origin of those marks to her parents.

“Y/N!”

Her mum had never provided her with a nickname, only ever calling her by her proper name. Harry gave her nicknames and pet names galore; baby, honey, sweetheart, lovie, darling and petal to name but a few.

You had learnt that shouting back was “never okay” so you left your bedroom and walked down the stairs to find your mum, who’d just shouted for you.

“Yes mum?” You timidly asked, standing at the door with your fingers fiddling with each other.

Your mum turned and scoffed at the sight of you. “Oh Jesus Y/N! You look horrible. That dress is disgusting.” It just so happened to be your favourite dress - a simple, long - as necessary - white dress with pretty flowers embroidered in baby pink and blue across the skirt. It made you feel like a weightless princess. “Don’t you agree?” Your mum asked your dad.

“Oh yes. Too much fat showing.” Your dad lovingly commented back.

You looked down at yourself, thinking that maybe it was showing a bit too much skin and therefore showing off your fat. Harry always told you that you were completely beautiful - an angel - but it was hard to believe on days like this. You crossed your arms over your chest in discomfort. Speaking back would only make things worse, so you took the verbal abuse as it came.

“Now,” your mum sat up a bit more, “i’m finding it really hard to look at you right now, Y/N, because i’m hurt by you.” Tears, fake of course, were forming in her eyes.

“W-why?”

“Mrs Tucker said she saw you and a young boy kissing outside the grocery store the other night - the same night you said you were going to pick up cleaning supplies.” Your heart dropped to your feet, because it was true. You had been with Harry. You’d never thought about anyone catching you, mainly because you thought no one cared about you enough. Mrs Tucker does like a good gossip though, dammit.

“A boy Y/N!” Your dad shouted in reiteration, making you flinch to the noise.

“Now I told Mrs Tucker that was being silly. That lady will do anything for a natter.” You stilled, thinking you were off the hook, but you should ‘t have been so quick to let your guard down. “Until your dad and I followed you to the grocery store the next night, although we never reached the store did we Y/N? No we were outside a house instead.”

Oh no. You are so dead.

“A boys house, Y/N? You weren’t raised to be a whore.” Your dad spat at you, turning away from you as if the sight of you was disgusting.

“God knows who he is or what you’re doing with him, but it stops. Right now, today.” Your mum gritted through her teeth, obviously trying to keep her calm.

“But—”

“No!” You mum screamed. “I will not be seen as the mother of a daughter who sleeps with random boys, instead of studying and working hard for her family!”

This was so 1800s. This was your life.

You had actual tears forming in your eyes now, unlike those your mum bared. It was so silly that this was making you cry but you were so upset that they thought they could control your life this way. It was devastating.

“I-I.. I love him though.” You choked out between tiny sobs, “I love him.” You whispered - that having been the first time you’d told someone else other than Harry. It actually felt good. Relieving. To declare your love for Harry made the world feel possible.

“Love? You no nothing about love.” You dad rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

“The only reason I don’t know about love is because I never got it from either of you.” You started to fight back. This was a battle you were determined to win. No more hiding behind a timid figure. You were willing to stand up for yourself - no one else was going to.

“Because there’s nothing to love about you!”

You didn’t recall who this came from, all you remember is your heart dropping below the floor and fleeing from the room. Fleeing from the house. Fleeing from a family who didn’t see you as anything but a human being. You weren’t a daughter to them. You were nothing. Your heart called elsewhere. It yearned for the person closest to you.

It wasn’t until you were met with Harry’s front door that you realised where you were and what had happened.

“Oh Y/N! Hi lov—” Anne greeted you, until she saw that you were crying heavily and your chest was rising rapidly. “Harry!” She shouted into the house, leaving you a brief moment to collapse onto the floor in front of you. You didn’t care for the pain that ran through your knees from the impact - only the pain in your heart from the break it had just suffered.

“Woah angel, hey, hey.” Harry was by your side within seconds, completely incasing his body around you. Your head laid buried against his warm chest and his arms hugged you close to him like never before. His smell was one of home. He encompassed you and made you feel safe and loved. You weren’t alone.

“I-i’m unloveable.”

“But I love you.” Harry whispered against your hair, warm air softly kissing your skin.

“Yes, but—”

“No, “but”. I love you, Y/N L/N, I really fucking do. You’re my other half, baby.” He kissed your forehead a few times, knowing that’s your second favourite place to be kissed. “Your parents don’t deserve you, they really don’t. They’re cruel and cold-hearted, but that doesn’t mean I am. I think you’re beautiful, clever and kind. I think you’re everything i could ever want. And I know that you can’t be unloveable, because i’m, so deeply, in love with you.”

Harry continued to rock you, as your cried into his chest. You’d never believed in yourself before meeting him and you never thought that he could be so genuine towards you. He couldn’t care less what your parents think, as long as he helped remind you that you’re none of what they think of you. You’re so much better than mindless words. You make you you, not your parents. Harry’s helped you discover who you are and who you want to be. Even though your miles from becoming who you want to be, and you have your setbacks, you’re proud of how far you’ve come.

You cried against his chest, until the pain softened and your could regain your breath again. You unburied yourself from his hold and looked up to him with love in your eyes.

“There’s my beautiful girl, looking like a princess in you pretty dress.” He smiled down at you, even though you knew you had puffy eyes, red cheeks and a snotty nose. He loved you and all your perfect imperfections.

“Thank you, H.” You said with a wobble to your lips, really meaning your words.

“I know, baby.”

“I really do love you too.” You made sure he knew. His heart fluttered a little faster over your words. He leaned down to kiss you gently, minding all the salty water and grimy snot that laid on your face. His kiss sent butterflies swarming through your stomach and a new type of red appeared on your cheeks.

“Waffles anyone?” Anne asked as she stood at the door, the smells of sweet honey and cream only hitting you now. It was that moment that you realised your heart had never belonged with your parents, your heart belonged here, with Harry. Forever and always.

#harry oneshot #harry blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles concept #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles sad #finelinevogue harry styles #finelinevogue

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song."

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard."

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night."

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked.

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking."

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band."

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right."

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid.

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!"

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!"

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation.

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover.

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?"

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me."

"What does it look like?" You asked.

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one."

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told."

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it."

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned?

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner.

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table.

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this."

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care."

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-"

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor.

"It was a gift." He finished anyway.

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head.

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much."

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered.

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering."

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me."

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.”

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage.

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help?

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition.

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly.

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack.

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile.

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you.

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy."

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music.

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush.

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone."

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans."

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side.

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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IOTA Reviews: Lies

You guys ready for almost twenty straight minutes of Angstdrien Depreste? Neither am I.

Let's get into the third (chronologically the second) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Lies (Oh, I get what they did there).

We open with Marinette struggling to decipher the grimoire she inherited from Fu, before two of the Kwamis screw around and play a video about Adrien.

Jesus Christ... it hasn't even been an episode since she broke up with Luka, and the writers are already back to making her simp over Adrien again. And this part of the episode takes place during “Truth”, where she's still dating Luka. This is supposedly meant to show her conflicting feelings regarding both Adrien and Luka, but it just comes across as yet another joke about Marinette simping over Adrien because the writers have forgotten she has other interests outside of her hero life.

And here we go. The writers are going to go out of their way to make the audience feel bad for Adrien in this episode by showing how tough his life is. What do we see him do that is allegedly so exhausting? He models for another statue, goes to a photoshoot, and then goes to some drama class where he repeats some phrase (I think it's supposed to be a warmup, but it's never explained why he's there in the first place). That's it. This is his definition of an “endless day”? Oh yeah, his life must be soooooooo hard.

Adrien is a rich white boy who is the son of one of the biggest names in fashion across the world, has legions of fans, an honest education, and is also one of the most beloved superheroes in the city while not having to struggle with the same responsibility his partner has. But no, Adrien's life is much harder than anyone else who has suffered this past year. It's yet another trick the writers are pulling to make people feel bad for Adrien instead of criticizing his behavior. I'm sorry, but I find it a little hard to relate to someone whose biggest problems amount his diamond shoes being too tight.

Good lord, I'm not even a minute in...

So Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and heads off to patrol. Keep in mind that the first part of this episode takes place during the events of “Truth”, so we see how he reacts to Ladybug not showing up for patrol. He waits for a while before he starts, but not before leaving a message for his partner.

Now, this moment honestly could have worked. What doesn't make it work is the air quotes Cat Noir starts off with. If he had said something like that honestly and kept his feelings a secret, it could have shown he understands the burden Ladybug has to bear now that she's the Guardian, but doesn't want to worry her. The problem is that the way he phrased the first sentence coupled with the air quotes make it seem like he doesn't care about what Ladybug has to deal with now, and only wants her to spend time with him.

You think I'm being overdramatic or I'm just jumping to conclusions? In the very next scene, Cat Noir actually tries to see if Mr. Ramier is emotional enough to get akumatized into Mr. Pigeon again just so he can see Ladybug.

This is just... why? Why would any of the writers expect the audience to feel bad for Cat Noir here? It's one thing for him to miss Ladybug's company, which is natural considering how much time they spend together, but wanting to start a life-threatening situation just to see Ladybug just isn't cool. What makes this any different from Chloe causing a subway to go out of control so she can save it herself, or Lila intentionally akumatizing herself and working with Hawkmoth just because she hates Ladybug? If you can find a reason other than “because the plot says so”, I'll want to hear an explanation.

So Cat Noir goes to Le Grand Paris to drown his sorrows in alcohol with his favorite drink, a White Russian without the vodka and coffee liqueur. Also, instead of cream, it's skim milk. And speaking of Chloe, we see her get into a brief squabble with Sabrina over missing a bag she has underneath her shoulder, and Cat Noir gets excited again at the prospect of getting to fight an Akuma, but thankfully, the situation is resolved fairly quickly.

Ignoring how unheroic this makes this supposed “superhero” look, I have a quick question. SHOULDN'T CHLOE BE IN PRISON RIGHT NOW? She essentially committed treason against her country by willingly conspiring with a terrorist. I get that everyone in Paris was paralyzed at the time, but did Ladybug not tell anyone what happened? How is she not in trouble? Did her father pardon her or something? Is she not even going to do any community service? You would think given how much Astruc hates her, Chloe would be forced to face more consequences for her actions other than losing her Miraculous permanently. Hopefully, “Queen Banana” will shed some light on Chloe's situation, but I'm not exactly holding my breath on that.

But yeah, Cat Noir actually gets excited at the prospect at fighting an akumatized Sabrina, while ignoring how cruel Chloe's being to her, because I guess it's a day that ends with a “Y”. Remember when Adrien actually called out Lila and compromised with her in order to get Marinette back into school? Good times.

Cat Noir keeps calling and leaving messages for Ladybug, but changes his mind as soon as he sees Kagami, because he has the attention span of a puppy looking for someone to play with. Adrien stares at his phone's wallpaper of Ladybug, implying he still has feelings for her, and is then informed by Nathalie that his fencing class with Kagami was moved back by an hour. In reality, it was a trick by Kagami to get the two to spend some quality time together.

They choose to hang out in the art room because, get this, Kagami has always had a passion for drawing. Of course! That explains why it's never been mentioned in any earlier episodes, not even the one where she attended the premiere of an animated movie, which is a similar form of art. It's almost like the writers wanted to have Kagami do something that doesn't involve swinging a sword around. It's a good reason, mind you, but maybe if it was foreshadowed more, I would be more open to it.

Kagami says that she loves drawing because “art never lies”. Because it's not like someone can draw something completely inaccurate to what's actually being depicted, much like a certain character who likes to make up stories of people she knows to get others to like her, right? Kagami also says that her mother doesn't let her draw because she doesn't think her art isn't good, even though she's blind. Because when it comes to parents in Miraculous Ladybug, they're either amazing people who love their children, or they're emotionally abusive pieces of garbage who make you wonder why they even had kids in the first place. There is literally no middle ground. Maybe some of the writers have daddy issues?

So Kagami decides to draw a picture of Adrien, but wants him to give her a more “natural” pose instead of the standard model poses he usually gives.

Okay, this scene is raising so many red flags, the dialogue might as well be in semaphore. Where the hell did this side of Kagami come from? Why is she so controlling and forceful all of a sudden? In fact, why is she so obsessed with Adrien being “perfect”? The two made jokes before in the past (Desperada), and even spent half of the Season 3 finale playing around with Marinette? Why is she now Little Miss Serious?

Also, Kagami is really overstepping boundaries with Adrien here. Like, to a seriously uncomfortable degree. I get she isn't good with social cues, but how can she not see how anxious Adrien looks while she forces him into a pose, all while saying how wrong he is for doing what he sees as “natural”? This is not what a healthy relationship looks like, and spoiler alert, this isn't exactly why they even break up at the end of the episode.

Before the two can kiss while they're actually at fencing practice, Adrien is forced to leave Kagami to help Ladybug fight Mr. Pigeon (which means the narrative basically gave him what he wanted for no reason), leading to the same scene where Ladybug almost kills him, while he jokes about how he likes how angry she gets, and she apologizes for something that wasn't her fault. Just remember, he flirts with Ladybug right after he left his girlfriend to join her for an Akuma battle. The same montage from “Truth” happens, only it's Adrien missing opportunities to be close with Kagami, culminating with the little Kitty Section concert that happened right before Luka got akumatized.

While the two wait for their rides, Adrien accidentally drops the charm Marinette gave him all the way back in “Gamer”, which Kagami picks up. When he sees an Akuma flying, Adrien soon heads off to fight him, saving Ladybug from blowing her cover. After the events of “Truth”, Adrien apparently heads to Prince Ali's birthday party (yet Rose isn't there for some reason), meaning the second half of this episode takes place immediately after the previous one, even though it's been established that Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth needs time to recharge.

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After Cat Noir flirts a little with Ladybug again, he heads off to the party to meet up with Kagami. When he had to leave to fight Truth, Adrien claimed that he left something on the Liberty, which Adrien later claims was the charm Marinette gave him. Kagami soon realizes he's lying about something, and doesn't take it well.

There's a good performance from Kagami's voice actress here, and it's a nice parallel to Luka, who also feels a sense of betrayal when Marinette can't be honest with him. But this scene does tie into the problem with Adrien and Kagami in this episode, and I'll get into it towards the end.

Kagami storms off, and is immediately akumatized by Shadowmoth, turning her into Lies.

Like Truth, the design here is really forgettable. The design is all white and gives Kagami a haircut that looks like it belongs in The Jetsons, but that's it. The one thing I like about her is the way her powers work. Instead of going from victim to victim, Lies creates an energy dome that slowly grows and paralyzes anyone has lied before in the past, which is basically everyone who comes into contact with it. It's a pretty interesting idea, and it means that Ladybug and Cat Noir have to rely more on strategy while avoiding any contact with the dome.

Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and charges into action, with Jagged Stone offering to help out.

I don't think you can say the same for your family, can you, Jagged?

Cat Noir tells Jagged to get to a safe place, but much like his one night stand with Anarka, he refuses to pull out, so he gets paralyzed by the dome, along with everyone in the building.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir and immediately summons her Lucky Charm, a remote control drone. Since it hasn't lied, it can go into the dome and be used as surveillance while Cat Noir distracts Lies. While it seems like nobody inside the dome can touch Lies, Ladybug realizes that Fang, Jagged Stone's pet crocodile, hasn't lied either, so she uses the drone to lure him out of the building.

Cat Noir thinks of a way to distract Lies by doing what he always does to increase the tension.

You know, I thought of a little game we could play. Why don't we count how many times Cat Noir sacrifices himself this season? So far, the Cat Noir Self-Kill Counter is at 1, but I'm guessing it will be higher the longer this season goes on.

So while Lies is distracted by Cat Noir's unconscious body, Fang runs over and breaks her corrupted object, Marinette's charm. So after using Miraculous Ladybug, Ladybug runs over and, for good reason, I may add, scolds Cat Noir for recklessly sacrificing himself yet again.

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You know if this plan failed, not only would Shadowmoth get your Miraculous, but Ladybug would be all alone, you idiot! And we're supposed to find this reckless endangerment funny!? Seriously, Ladybug smiles at Cat Noir's stupid little quip as he still flirts with her right after he got into a fight with his girlfriend.

The next day, Adrien apologizes to Kagami, but she says she can't trust him, not as a boyfriend, and not as a friend either. And here is the problem with the Adrigami breakup. Like with the Lukanette breakup, it chooses to focus on one detail instead of the other, and glaringly obvious detail. The episode is trying to say that the whole reason Kagami and Adrien can't work as a couple is because of Adrien keeping his life as Cat Noir a secret. In reality, both of them have problems that they need to work on before they consider dating. Kagami has shown herself to be a massive control freak in this episode because of her own vision of what Adrien is like, showing she doesn't respect his boundaries or beliefs.

And Adrien? Where do I begin?

Adrien clearly shows several signs that he hasn't moved on from Ladybug with how much he flirts with her, even before he and Kagami got together, and there's the fact that unlike Marinette who realizes how she can't have a love life, it doesn't feel like Adrien actually learned that lesson.

We are supposed to see Adrien focusing on his secret life as Cat Noir as the responsible thing to do, and that like Ladybug, he needs to prioritize being Cat Noir over dating. The thing is that this episode has only showed how he doesn't take any of the hero stuff seriously. Throughout the episode, he treats being Cat Noir as a fun pasttime, when it comes to craving Ladybug's attention to the point where he's just short of causing an Akuma attack out of desperation until he sees someone else to spend time with, constantly flirts with Ladybug despite how annoyed she can come across, doesn't understand any of the stuff she has to deal with now that she's Guardian, and will sacrifice himself all so Ladybug can do all the work for him. He doesn't care about anything unless he gains something in return. It doesn't matter if lives are in danger, he thinks his personal feelings are more important because his civilian life is sO hAaArRd.

At one point when we were all kids, we all wanted to be superheroes because we all thought the idea of having superpowers and the freedom to do whatever we wanted sounded awesome. But that's not what being a hero is. We never thought about the responsibility that comes with being a superhero. One of the main themes of superhero media that we all watched growing up was that they would help us to learn right from wrong, and that sometimes, personal sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, and our feelings just aren't that important in the grand scheme of things. Whether we learned this lesson from Superman, Spider-Man, Sailor Moon, the Power Rangers, or even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, what matters is that by the time we reached the age of these heroes, we would have a similar moral compass so we would understand why these heroes would make some of the choices they did, and we would be able to make similar choices if we encountered situations like the ones they went through.

Part of growing up is realizing that being a superhero isn't all fun and games. Sometimes, you need to put your own personal desires aside to make sure nobody gets hurt because of something you did or didn't do. We are currently in the fourth season of this show, and after 82 episodes, Cat Noir has still failed to learn that lesson. He doesn't understand that even if his “true self” is clowning around, that's not how a hero acts. You don't see Batman or Captain America acting this way, and you don't see real life soldiers or emergency workers acting this way either.

And that's not even getting into the fact that this is the same problem the Lukanette breakup had. Even though Marinette had a valid reason to break things off with Luka because she realized being Guardian was more important, the narrative framed it like she was still into Adrien, no matter if she was making an effort to get over him. Likewise, even though both Adrien and Kagami have issues the narrative refuses to actually acknowledge, they frame it as Adrien's hero life was ruining their relationship, when in reality, the reasons for both the Adrigami breakup and the Lukanette breakup should have been flipped. “Truth” should have been about Marinette coming to terms with her new responsibilities as the Guardian, and “Lies” should have been about Adrien realizing he needs to work on his own personal issues before he considers his feelings for Kagami or Ladybug.

So the episode just ends with Ladybug and Cat Noir saying that even if they have to keep secrets about their identities, they can still trust each other. Also, before Kagami dumped him, Adrien reaffirmed his feelings for Ladybug (the only time they were actually referenced outside of flirting and his phone's wallpaper), which implies that Adrien is going to continue to pursue Ladybug, having learned nothing from this whole episode.

You know, after watching both this episode and “Truth”, and seeing how it undid two of the major changes from the Season 3 finale, does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all? Does it almost feel like you've been here before? How am I gonna be a optimist about this? Hell if I know, this episode's honestly worse than “Truth” was.

Put aside your feelings on the Adrigami breakup, the pacing here was awful. Because the writers thought it would be interesting to have some continuity for once by having it take place right after “Truth”, the timeline is incredibly confusing. Can Shadowmoth just create more Akumas at once without having to recharge? And shouldn't Ladybug and Cat Noir be exhausted from having to fight two Akumas and a Sentimonster in one day?

Even then, about half of the episode was spent following Adrien as he whined about how hard he supposedly has it, proving despite what Astruc continues to state, he is far from perfect, and like what he loves to say about Chloe, refuses to change. Wow, that's so interesting. And we're supposed to feel bad for Cat Noir and be mad at Ladybug for missing their patrol, forgetting everything she's been going through in the last week, considering how Gabriel just fixed the Peacock Miraculous, suggesting that the events of “Truth” and “Lies” happened not too long after “Miracle Queen”. Even the Akuma fight wasn't that interesting because it was crammed into about five minutes thanks to everything else going on in this episode.

In an attempt to make the audience sympathize with him, this episode only made me loathe the way Adrien is portrayed even more. Seriously, he reaches “Frozer” levels of unlikability in this episode. Maybe he'll get some much needed character development, but given how much Astruc will put him on a pedestal and ignore his flaws, I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon.

But I still don't see the point of spending so much time building up this relationship for two seasons just to end it as soon as they hook up. At the end of the day, all Lukanette and Adrigami amounted to was filler. It was a way to get in some romantic scenes for the fans while the writers continue to drag out the Love Square drama like a taffy puller. And now that Luka and Kagami have served their purpose, watch as Astruc and the other writers start to slowly remove them from the narrative until they appear about as often as Nino does now.

After all, why care about anything in this show that isn’t related to the Love Square? It’s clear none of the writers do.

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Love me Harder-Part 4

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Summary: Falling in love with your sisters sworn enemy probably wasn’t the best idea…

Note: Tik Tok challenge requests are still open for whoever wants to submit one! I will be doing them throughout the day! I hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know what you think!

Part 3 Part 5

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Rafe and I became exclusive after that night on the beach…

It was weird at first being so open despite the odd looks from people. I tried not to think about it too much despite the comments and stares. I was going to enjoy my time with Rafe.

This led to one of my rare days off, my legs perched on the dash of Rafe’s golf cart. My eyes trained on his muscles working as he played on the Figure Eight golf course. I squirmed in my seat a little from the way his muscles flexed, his hat perched on his head backwards adding to the desire pooling in my belly. We hadn’t moved past the heavy make outs with occasional groping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for more.

My experience with men wasn’t bad but it also wasn’t great. I’ve had my few shares of casual hook ups, boyfriends that didn’t last longer than a few months before the feelings died out, but Rafe was different. Maybe it was the fact that we had both wanted each other for so long, the tension bursting between us now that we could freely be seen with the other.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there beautiful?” Rafe asked, startling me from my thoughts.

“How good your ass looks in those shorts.” I smirked, earning a deep blush from my boyfriend.

He sauntered over to me, swinging his club around to hold it behind his neck. Rafe leaned his head down to touch his nose to mine, sweetly pecking my lips before he pulled away. I moved my hands to feel the slight stubble forming on his cheeks, he let go of the golf club, and let it fall to the ground. In the next instance, he had my legs around his waist. Rafe leaned in to crush his lips to mine, leaning me back at an angle. I forgot where we were, and that people were literally all around us. My only focus was how good his soft lips felt against mine. I bit his bottom lip, gently tugging it back. He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips.

“Come on guys, this is a family golf course.” Someone called, my head snapping to see Topper making his way over. Rafe flipped him off as my cheeks burned with embarrassment.

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I very quickly became uninterested in being at Figure Eight now that Topper decided to interrupt mine and Rafe’s hot make out. He stayed with Rafe to play a round between them which annoyed me even more. I didn’t get a lot of days off, so my mood was pretty much ruined. I saw Pope walking by, carrying some groceries for someone. I was going to jump up and help when Topper decided to make his way to him.

“Well, well look who we have here.” Topper hollered, my feet instantly taking off towards Pope. Rafe had yet to notice either of us were gone.

“Can we please give it a rest today, unless you want to deliver your own groceries.” Pope spat, dodging Topper’s reaches for the beer he was carrying.

“Knock it off Topper, your tea time isn’t up yet.” I growled, stepping in front of Pope.

“Leave this to the men y/n,” Topper hissed, shoving me to the side as he attacked Pope.

I went into flight or fight mode, jumping on Topper’s back as he railed his fists down on Pope. I punched Topper’s nose, giving Pope enough time to wiggle his way out from under Topper. He reached back and pulled my hair, a scream leaving my lips from the burn. I tumbled down, scraping my arms and legs against the gravel. Topper grabbed his club, and swung at Pope. I was horrified as blood spewed from Pope’s lips.

“RAFE!” I screeched, hoping to grab his attention.

I didn’t look to see if he had heard me, jumping to my feet to run towards Pope and Topper. In a split second decision, I jumped in front of Pope, and took Topper’s swing. Agonizing pain tore through my body, a sickening crack heard as the head of the club connected to my ribs. Topper’s eyes widened, dropping his club immediately. I whimpered on the ground, keeping my eyes closed as I sobbed in pain.

“Y/n!” Pope shouted, crouching down to me.

“Go, run.” I whispered, giving him a reassuring nod as he took off.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Rafe boomed, but I couldn’t focus on his words. White noise rang in my ears, my heart still thudding in my chest from the adrenaline. I snapped out of it when I felt a hand, Rafe’s hand, pushing some hair from my face.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” he asked.

“Hurts,” was all I was able to gurgle out.

“Tell me where baby,” Rafe spoke softly.

“Ribs,” I choked.

“She just jumped in front of me man!” Topper exclaimed.

“Because you were beating a fucking kid Topper!” I snapped, flinching in pain.

“Can I lift you up, get you to the ER?” Rafe asked gently, his hands shaking as they stayed near my face.

“I think I can get up,” I huffed, having help from Rafe to stand. My ribs were aching, the pain feeling like a stabbing sensation.

“I’ll deal with you later.” Rafe hissed as Topper, following behind me as I walked back towards the golf cart.

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A cracked rib that would take a while to heal, the doctor was surprised that it wasn’t crushed with the severity of the bruise forming on my ribcage. I was told to not go back to work for at least a week, yeah, we’ll see how that goes over with my dad...

“So, you want me to cancel dinner tonight?” Rafe asked, holding my hand tight in his as we exited the ER.

“No, I still want to go.” I insisted, nerves creeping in as I remembered I was having dinner with Rafe and his family tonight.

This would be the first time I would be there as Rafe’s girlfriend, and I was scared shitless. I knew my parents, or I should say my mother and my biological father, grew up with Ward and Rose. The tension was there at the Kook gatherings they made me attend since my mother had me when she was still in High School.

“I don’t want you to go if you feel like you have to...you don’t need to suffer in pain all night.” Rafe sighed, assisting me while I climbed into the passenger seat of his truck.

“Rafe this is important, I want to make a good impression, and how is it going to look if I bail.” I scoffed. He had one arm leaning on the open door while the other was by my head, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“They aren’t going to give a shit if you’re hurt. Baby, please just think about this.” he murmured.

“I have thought about it, I’m going, and that’s final.” I growled, swinging my legs in the door.

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I spent the next three hours making sure every detail about my outfit, hair, and makeup were perfect. Rafe laid on my bed, scrolling through his phone while he waited for me to get ready. His constant complaints about how long I was taking was really starting to irritate me however…

“Babe, this isn’t a fancy ass dinner. It’s just my dad and Rose, and I think my sisters might be there.” Rafe mumbled, throwing his phone down beside him.

“I swear to god Rafe, if you complain one more fucking time…” I laughed humorlessly.

Rafe got up from his spot, leaning down behind me. His eyes met mine in the mirror, staying connected as he leaned down towards my neck. He placed gentle, wet kisses down the side, my eyes widening when I felt his teeth nick a spot just below my ear.

“Rafe!” I gasped, pulling away from him immediately. His shit eating grin earned a playful shove from me, his laughter booming through my room.

“I’m gonna kill you,” I gritted through my teeth, trying to cover up the bite to the best of my abilities. Once I was fully dressed, Rafe’s eyes surely would have popped out of his head if they had gotten any wider.

“Oh Jesus,” he muttered, taking his eyes away from you.

“What?” I panicked.

“How am I supposed to sit through a family dinner with you lookin’ like that.” he blurted, a giggle slipping through my lips.

“Sorry baby,” I smiled, leaning up on my toes to kiss him.

“You look stunning, and I’m so happy you’re all mine.” Rafe whispered, butterflies racing in my stomach at his compliment.

“Thank you Rafe, I’m happy too.” I spoke softly, giving him another sweet kiss.

=========================================

I wanted to puke from how nervous I was, wishing I had taken Rafe’s idea to cancel. I was about to high tail it back to the truck, but before I knew it, we were entering the Cameron household. Rose smiled wickedly sweet at Rafe and I, Ward didn’t even glance towards us, and Sarah and Wheezie were the only ones to actually greet us. I felt awkward around Sarah with the beef she still had with Kie, and I knew she was also talking to John B. Rafe didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, dragging me to the dining room.

“So Rafe, how long is this one gonna last?” Ward rumbled from his seat.

“Seriously dad?” Rafe questioned, his grip on my hand almost hurting.

“I’m just saying...none of your other, um, exploits, really had staying power. You think this is gonna last more than a week?” Ward chuckled, ice flowing through my veins as my gaze went back and forth between the two men.

“We’ve been together almost three months, I really care about her dad. Can we please have just a normal dinner?” Rafe exasperated, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean Rafe...you know about her parents.” Rose spoke up, my head snapping in her direction.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asked, irritation clear in his voice.

“Her mother’s track record isn’t exactly...well let’s just say she sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Rose chuckled, my shoulders straightening.

“I’d thank you kindly to keep my mother’s business out of your mouth Mrs. Cameron.” I spoke harshly.

“Honey...your real dad didn’t want your mother, he didn’t want you, so what makes you think our Rafe will have anything to do with you? Your mother was a slut, and you know what they say...like mother like daughter.” she pointed out, my blood boiling at this point.

“That’s enough!” Rafe shouted, standing up so fast his chair raked against the tile.

I shot out of my seat, tears pricking my eyes as I made my way out the front door. I could hear them all arguing, but I didn’t care to listen. My ribs protested as I let out a sob, my hand holding on to them as a rush of pain surged through me. I was prepared to walk home at this point, my feet carrying me on instinct.

“Y/n, wait baby please!” I heard Rafe call.

“Can you please just take me home Rafe, I want to go.” I sniffled, backing away when he tried to reach out for me.

=========================================

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe whispered when he parked his truck in front of my house.

“Not your fault, I just...I definitely was not expecting that.” I mumbled, wringing my hands out anxiously. I looked from my house and back to Rafe, biting down gently on my lip.

“Do you...do you want to stay with me?” I asked quietly, looking down at my hands.

“Only if you want me to,” he smiled, my head nodding immediately.

I did my nightly routine, checking the locks on everything before heading back to my room. I put a scrunchie on the door which signaled the kids that I didn’t want to be bothered. I left my fairy lights on, sliding in next to Rafe who was already cozied up under my covers. I buried my face into his neck, completely entangling myself with him. His hand traveled up my thigh that was laying across him, stopping at my hip to rub the skin that was showing from my shirt riding up. The rings on his fingers left goosebumps behind, the cold metal contrasting with the warmth that had spread from him to me.

“For the record, I plan on keeping you.” Rafe smirked, pinching my skin playfully.

“Lucky me then, I get to put up with your dumbassery for a little while longer.” I teased, the both of us sent into a fit of laughter. Once that died down, Rafe tilted my chin up, kissing me tenderly.

“Sweet dreams beautiful,” he whispered.

“Sleep tight slick,” I yawned, snuggling up closer as I let my eyes close.

=========================================

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @drewswannabegirl @sexualparkour @teamnick @jiaraendgame @agirlwholovescoffee @outerbongs @jaxxandcomet @velyssaraptor @baby-pogue @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @must-be-a-weasley-92 @kaitieskidmore1 @ma10427 @ifilwtmfc @lasnaro @justcallmesams @judayyyw @lonely-kermit @gviosca @iamaunicorn4704 @jellyfishbeansontoast @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @eb15 @hurricane-abigail @tangledinsparkles @haley-talks-too-much @sunwardsss @http-cherries @bibliophilewednesday @evaporatedrosepetals @thetomatosaucee @tomatosauceagent @redosmo @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @obx-direction-sos @mxltifandoms06 @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @gracielou0518 @hannahhistorian92 @lemur46 @ohdangitsjay @screechinglawyer @leasly @sambucky8 @babebenhardy @poguestyleskye @joshy-obx @harryswigss @simpingforrudypankowonly @x-lulu @starrystarkey93 @teenwaywardasgardian @nina1800 @theotherscottishgirl @5sos-xmalumx

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finaledenialist · 4 years

Note

Okay, your tags on The Empty Post have showed up in my notes and I have to ask. Tell me more. Tell me it all. All of the feelings and thoughts about that scene because what I’ve seen so far? Absolute perfection and I agree wholeheartedly.

Thank you! Okay I basically unloaded most of my thoughts in my tags here but let’s go through this one more time. I may add: this was already said a thousand times by better meta writers than me 3 years ago when season 13 was actually airing. And I will ramble a little about Purgatory, too. Now with that out of the way:

The Empty. Canonically it is a being, a living immortal being that rules the place or an ‘anti-place’ where angels and demons go are sent to when they die to dream of their regrets forever (this sounds awful and like a punishment for dying despite being immortal, for getting themselves killed or something). Also: the Empty was there before Creation, the Nothingness before Darkness and before Light.

Okay. But let’s see what other things the Empty represents: lack of anything. Complete nothingness that Cas got sucked into (by Lucifer but also by helping the Winchesters). Now we know that Cas‘I am afraid I might kill myself’tiel had his issues, right (I still can’t believe that we are praising 8x08 thee Hunteri Heroici for being a filler episode with Cas - which is awesome, don’t get me wrong - but we all keep forgetting what he actually did say to Dean there!!! Dean says: are you afraid the angels will kill you if you show up in Heaven? And Cas looks straight into his eyes and says: After all I’ve done, when I see Heaven, I am afraid I might kill myself).

Please remember that it’s not only Dean, Mr. ‘Purgatory was pure’. Cas, after all he did in season 6, after his death in s7, after coming back and being literally haunted by everything he’s done, must have felt that Purgatory was liberating, too. It was some kind of an Alternative Universe where he didn’t have to face the consequences of his actions. He was free of them. It was literally his escape AND additionally it was (well, according to good old christian lore, maybe not specifically spn lore) a place where you are supposed to atone for your sins so there must have been the feeling of atoning, of making things right without actually doing anything specific, where having to survive and not get eaten by the Leviathans was his main problem (= surviving was just enough, nothing was asked of him), which, compared to all he’s done, wasn’t that hard or difficult. He found himself running away from Leviathans which could mirror running away from consequences of his actions - but it was Purgatory, it was at the same time atoning for what he did. It was EASY.

Cas basically confirms that he officially stayed in Purgatory because he didn’t think he deserved to go back to Earth and that is true but what he doesn’t say is: ‘Purgatory was pure and easy and kill or be killed and no other worries than that, no thinking, no real responsibilities which actually was a nice escape from the real world after all I did and been through in the past 3 years’. He wanted out, he wanted an easy choice. Okay, maybe he wasn’t actively looking for an easy way out but when it presented itself - when they appeared in Purgatory - he took it like a gift. We’re talking about a character who spent all his life following orders, who finally broke free and found himself completely lost in the freedom of choices, directionless and maybe wanted an escape. He must have felt overwhelmed but all this freedom (which he basically confirms in 6x20 freedom is a length of rope and god wants you to hang yourself with it). I COMPLETELY understand that choice to escape.

So in seasons 8-12 Cas has a lot of stuff going on in his head, he gets lobotomized for most of season 8, he is hurt and tortured and treated like shit for most of season 9 and 10 and he ultimately gives himself up to Lucifer in s11 and then he almost dies in 12x12 and he never really got to talk about all of this or work this things out with anyone because Sam or Dean are not really the most talkative guys and Dean in 10x09 basically tells Cas to ‘let it go and not think about it’ which is a shitty advice to someone who suffers from some mental issues if I am being honest (this is like. ur depressed? oh go for a run and smile and stop being sad!!! kind of advice if you ask me). So these issues only grow and grow and start eating him up and please remember that at the very same time Cas is falling in love. I said it previously but I think the moment he realizes what he really feels is 12x12 when he is dying. In that moment he is able to name this feeling but it’s of course covered by: ‘I love you. I love all of you’.

Now in season 12 he finally gets a proper arc with Kelly (god bless her, honestly, she and Cas had one of the most healthy relationships ever portrayed on tv and it wasn’t even romantic, I could go off about this but it’s getting really long anyway). So he kind of is on his way to find a purpose again - Dean is saved (from hell, from Michael, from the Mark), so he focuses on Kelly and unborn Jack and maybe in his relationship with her he rediscovers love (not necessarily romantic but he sees how she loves Jack) and he does all he can to protect her from basically everyone including the Winchesters. And he promises he will take care of Jack and then. Then he is killed by Lucifer (shattered at the altar of Winchester because he gets involved in the Apocalypse World because of them while having built something for himself with Kelly and Jack BUT still not having properly processed all his previous trauma).

Okay, so fast forward: Cas is woken up by Jack in the Empty. He is of course confused and stuff (we still don’t know what was he dreaming about all this time he spent there now that we know this is a place where angels and demons dream about their mistakes and regrets <- fanfiction gap #1). He wakes up, he is ‘greeted’ by the Empty and one of the first things he says is that he has to go back because Sam and Dean need him.

This is his first, automatic thought - I (probably) don’t want to go back, but Sam and Dean need me so I have to, I don’t want to go back for myself because I never wanted to since Purgatory but I know I have to. He doesn’t even think about Jack in this moment. I... maybe it is a stretch but I sense a kind of fear in these words. It’s like he thinks: ‘if I had the chance to come back and chose not to come back from selfish reasons then if the Winchesters ever find out about this they will be angry at me’. But I might be reading too much into this, but on the other hand Jesus fucking Christ this is precisely what happened in Purgatory. He chose to stay although he had a chance to return and the effect was Dean being mad at him. Talk about trauma--

Then the Empty (who was in Cas’ mind) voices his biggest fears:

'I know who you love, I know what you fear. There is nothing for you back there. Wouldn't you rather be a fond memory than a constant festering disappointment?'

There is a lot to unpack here because this is the Empty’s (who, as stated at the beginning can be read as a manifestation of not only death but also Cas’ depression and self-worth issues) reaction to Cas saying that Sam and Dean need him. She says: uh oh you’re wrong<3 I know who you love, what you fear, the is nothing there for you, sweetie. Essentially: they don’t need you. No one needs you or wants you there. They are better off without you. Wouldn’t you rather be a fond memory (of actually being useful as in: saving Dean from hell, helping to stop the Apocalypse, helping to fight the Leviathans) than a disappointment (failing powers, makes mistake after a mistake, chooses to protect the unborn Antichrist rather than killing him before he’s born - and not to make this whole thing worse but this is what Dean has the audacity to say to Cas in 15x03: why if something goes wrong it always seem to be you).

I will now allow myself for some privacy, because I am a person who dealt with these kind of thoughts in my head for years, these are straight up suicidal thoughts: no one needs you, no one wants you, you are a disappointment and if you die you will be fondly remembered, everyone is better off without you. And we know Cas was suicidal because he literally tells us in 8x08 and we have no proof that he somehow got rid of these thoughts, ever. If anything, they were always there, present, if not growing. Thoughts like that don’t just disappear. Please remember one more time what was happening to Cas in seasons 8-11. He wasn’t healing. He was getting worse, while all this time managing to keep his head above water for someone else, while the guilt was rising and rising.

If the Empty represents all his issues: depression, suicidal thoughts, guilt, self-hate, lack of self-worth, and what she offers is: eternal sleep. Maybe not entirely peaceful sleep, but sleep nevertheless, no consequences, no facing your fears, no dealing with anything, an escape, sleep -

And she prompts him to stop fighting, to go back to sleep because there is nothing to fight for (now the symbolism of him being waken up by JACK who was his new found purpose just before he got killed), but she makes a mistake to confront his thoughts and fears with him. She makes a mistake of taking a ‘physical’ form, putting on his face and voice his fears. And Cas is a warrior and he kind of hates himself, so his instinct was to fight. Of course it was easier not to think about all of these stuff at all, to push it back, to try to forget. But once he was forced to face all of these? He fought back. AND HE WON!!!!!

WHAT A MESSAGE TO SEND RIGHT?!!! You might have all these issues and not want to face them because you feel you will crush under them but look: when you are forced to face them it turns out you are somehow way stronger than them!!! The moment you choose to fight you already won, you are already saved!!! Because ultimately these are your thoughts and this is your mind and you control it, no one else! The moment you decide, you choose, to take control: you win. You are saved because you chose to save yourself because you decided you are worth saving. And the Empty (and everything she represents) immediately gets angry and lets him go, ultimately annoyed because he dared to defy her and she just can’t win with someone who decides he wants to be free. WHAT. 👏🏻 A. 👏🏻 WONDERFUL. 👏🏻 MESSAGE. 👏🏻

So... Having said all that. There is only one thing left: I have NO IDEA. NO IDEA. HOW HE FOUND THE STRENGTH. TO STAND UP AND SAY THIS:

I'm already saved. You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for... ever. For eternity.

A FUCKING ICON. STRONGEST CHARACTER EVER. YOUR FAVE COULD NEVER--

#ask #mutuals #cas #castiel meta #cas meta #the empty #long post #theselfhatingangelofthursday

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gabywantsafriend · 4 years

Text

Anything For You: Ferris Bueller x Reader

(Kinda my gif??? Idk I found it online but I originally posted it on here)

Requested by anonymous: ferris bueller realizing he loves the reader maybe?

I’m so sorry it took such a long time to post another imagine! I hope you guys enjoy it :’)

Warning: Swearing

“Adams?” “Here.”

“Adamley?” “Here!”

“Adamowski?” A rather lazy hand was raised, indicating the student’s presence.

“Adamson?” “Here.”

“Adler?” The response was delayed by a couple of seconds. “Here.”

“Anderson?” Another delayed response. “Anderson?” “Here!”

“Bueller?”

Nothing. You quickly scanned the room, he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t walk in that morning. You looked at Cameron and he shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what Ferris was up to or where he was. “Bueller?” Crickets. “Bueller?” Dead silence. “Bueller?” The teacher’s monotonous voice began to sound like a broken record player.

You cleared your throat as you tried impersonating the missing troublemaker, letting out a low “Here.” The class snickered, causing your teacher to silence everyone. Turning to you, he huffed.

“L/n, I know you and Bueller are best friends but you really don’t have to cover for him in his absence. You’ll get your turn in the roll call later, don’t get too excited,” He went on with checking the attendance. You stubbornly sank into your seat, eyeing the vacant one next to you where Ferris was usually sat. What kind of trouble do you have in mind this time?

--------

Recess rolled in and you were standing at the phone booth just outside of your school. You dialed Ferris’ home number and waited for him to pick up. He was probably out on another one of his spontaneous adventures.

“Hello?” His voice was nasally, he was always good at playing sick.

“Oh, cut the crap. Where the hell are you, idiot? This is your tenth absence this semester, you said you didn’t wanna miss school after last time! No wonder your grades are shit! What are you up to now?” You scolded. Skipping class to hang out and be teenagers was fun the first few times. However as it became a habit of Ferris, you wished he could take school more seriously.

“Y/n, calm down. First of all, I could easily hack into the school’s computer system and change my grades,” He coughed. “Second, I’m not kidding this time. I’m actually sick.” You scoffed, muttering a small “yeah right.”

Of course, you found it hard to believe. You’ve known Ferris Bueller since you were ten. And you knew that it took a lot for him to be ill.

“Why would I ever lie to you? I’m serious,” he deadpanned. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, I’ll bring today’s assignments for you and I’ll visit you as soon as class ends.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone as he spoke. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You bid goodbye as he did the same, both of you putting down the phone.

Well, what do you know. For the first time in a long time, Ferris Bueller was sick.

--------

You dropped your bike right in front of the Buellers residence and sprinted to the back door. You lifted the rug and took the spare key that Katie Bueller left in case of emergencies or whenever you wanted to visit. You were always welcome. Unlocking the door, you bolted up the steps and stopped in front of the door to your best friend’s room..

“Ferris, you better not be naked. I’m coming in.”

“Hi, Y/n.” The sight was beyond pitiful: The floor was littered with used tissues. Bottles of medicine decorated his dresser. And on the bed was a very pale boy, sniffling and shivering still even under the many layers of blankets he was covered in. Oh, Ferris.

“You look like shit.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you too,” he quipped. You rolled your eyes at his untimely use of sarcasm and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, you’re practically steaming,” You commented, getting up to fetch him an ice pack to hopefully lower his temperature. “I’m flattered, Y/n. I really am. But can you keep it in your pants until after I get well?” You were used to his foul-mouthed jokes by now. “Very funny, loser. Now put this on your forehead,” You handed him the cold material and he obeyed, hissing as it touched his skin.

“Oh, right! I got the homework for you,” you told him, getting your bag and pulling out his books and assessment sheets and laying them on his desk. “I also wrote an extra copy of the notes you missed,” You handed him the pages that you’ve ripped from your notebook where the duplicates were. His eyes, teary from his cold, widened.

“Wha-? But I just asked for you to get today’s assignments! You didn’t have to go an extra mile with taking my notes for me!” He took the papers gratefully, flipping through them. “I’m convinced you’re my guardian angel or some shit! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.”

It was true. You’d gladly and endlessly do anything for him.

You’ve liked Ferris since you first covered for him in fifth grade.

Young Ferris thought it’d be a good idea to chuck a bouncy ball at Mrs. Ritland, the math teacher you had all despised. Believe it or not, he was an even bigger idiot back when you were ten. She was writing on the chalkboard, back turned to you; the perfect time to strike. The small toy hit the poor lady’s nape. The classroom was suddenly filled with gasps and the sound of laughter. She exclaimed in pain, rage-filled eyes darting from student to student. Before she could even question which delinquent threw the damned thing, you stood up and raised your hand.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

Ferris was quick to defend you, chucking another bouncy ball at the woman. “If you even think of punishing her, you’ll have to go through me!”

You were both given a month’s detention and have been inseparable ever since.

“I’m dying,” He croaked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Oh, please. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do!” You quoted him. “Didn’t you say that yourself?”

He groaned, “Yes, I did say that myself. But now isn’t the time. I’m really not feeling well, Y/n.”

“Nonsense! It helped Cameron last time, he felt great afterwards.” You got off the bed, trying to pull him up with you. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the covers. “Aww, come on! Get up on your feet, mister! What do you feel like doing today? The weather’s lovely! Maybe we can go swimming? Or perhaps you’d like to go to the arcade? Ooh, street food sounds good! Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you there!” You coaxed excitedly.

“As much as I love our adventures, I was thinking maybe we could just stay here? You know, we could talk for a while and we can take a nap together just like when we were kids. And when I’m feeling better, we could watch a movie,” Ferris spoke softly, sniffling right after. You hummed, considering his offer.

“You can stay here and rest. I can get us some corn dogs from the stand nearby, I’ll be quick I promi-”

“No, no, you missed my point,” he shook his head, grinning at your stubbornness. “I meant can you stay? We don’t have to go anywhere. I enjoy your company, it’s more than enough,” He pulled the blankets to his nose, hiding his bashful smile as well as his growing blush. You were sure you would have melted then and there.

“Sure thing. Ferris.” You adored this boy.

It had been an hour since you’d agreed to stay in with Ferris and you were seated at his desk, tutoring him about trigonometric functions, a lesson he missed that day. He was reading the notes on the topic, following along with what you were saying. “Okay, I found this to be quite easy. So, we start off with the basics: sine, cosine, and tangent-”

At least, that’s what it looked like.

At first glance, it seemed as though he was actually studying. But what you didn’t know was that he had been admiring your handwriting and your little doodles on the blank spaces of the paper.

See, Ferris liked you. He’s liked you since forever ago. He remembered the moment so vividly, as if it only happened yesterday.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

He looked at you and thought, “Wow, that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, he couldn’t let a pretty girl such as you take the blame for what a stupid boy such as him had done. It just wasn’t fair to you. So he immediately admitted that it was his fault, as he should.

He felt guilty that you had to get wrapped up in this mess and had to suffer the consequences. To make up for it, every time you had detention, he would take you to secret hideouts around the school. That two months of running around school trying not to get caught marked your first of soon-to-be-many adventures.

And now here you were, almost eight years later, helping him solve for x. His eyes softened at how into it you were while teaching him. You were even more beautiful than when you were a kid, just when his younger self thought you couldn’t get any more stunning.

He thought about how you were kind enough to fill him in on everything he’d missed; how as soon as class was dismissed, you biked as quickly as you could just to take care of him. You could have easily ditched him to go out and get those corn dogs you’ve been craving; or you could have easily gone out for a walk since, according to you, “the weather’s lovely.”

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

The mere thought of that, along with everything about you, caused his heart to pound out of his chest.

I think I’m in love with her. Fuck that. I am in love with her.

“...And that explains why sine 90° is equivalent to 1. What the-? Ferris Bueller, are you even listening?” You waved a hand in front of his face, still not responding. He looked as if his mind was somewhere completely different. “Hello? Earth to Ferris?” He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He whispered something you didn’t quite catch. “What?” He whispered again. “I can’t hear you, pal. Speak up.”

“I love you. There, I said it.” You were at a loss for words as your eyes met. Both of you progressively got redder by the second.

“What in the right mind made you say that?” Confusion was evident in your voice, as well as nervousness.

“I’ve loved you for a while now and when you dropped everything to visit me today, I realized how deep I’ve fallen,” Ferris bashfully stated. He could be cheesy at times but you thought it was cute.

“Woah, you are such a fucking sap,” You both burst into laughter, him scoffing and clutching his chest in mock offense. “I love you too, you dingus.”

His heart fluttered as you said it. The mix of his sickness and your confession made him lightheaded. You plopped down on his bed, hugging him tightly. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re too close, I’m gonna get you sick!” He asked as you kissed his nose.

You got under the covers with him, rolling your eyes, “You think I still care? I fucking love you for Christ’s sake!” You made him laugh at that. “How about that nap you suggested earlier, hmm?”

He closed his eyes, the biggest grin still plastered on his face. “She loves me,” being the last thought in his head before contently falling asleep.

#80s #80s movies #ferris bueller's day off #ferris bueller x reader #ferris bueller imagine #imagine #ferris bueller #ferris beuller

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fantasy-costco · 8 months

Text

My favorite part of cleaning house is that sometimes I get jumpscared by my partners Catholic Merch. Hello small picture of crying Jesus stuck in my pants drawer for some reason

#It's a uhhh rulebook for lent #With Mr. Jesus on the cover looking very suffering #I've also found a tiny metal charm of the Virgin Mary #Which my fiancée informed me came with a bigger statue of the Virgin Mary she received for Christmas #Which ALSO cane with a tiny rosery so really that's a hell of a bargain #*came with #Oh that reminds me fat Tuesday is next week I should get king cake #I'm not catholic I'm just southern and I LOVE king cake

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rockingrobin69 · 1 year

Text

Snippet

One Monday Teddy asked, “Uncle Harry, why are your flowers always sad?” pointing to the newspaper under his nose. The pen was still in Harry’s hand, half-chewed.

“I,” he said, stopped. Squinted at the sketching, didn’t really see it. “Are they? Sad?”

“Yeah! Look at this one,” sticky-peanut-butter-finger wiggled very close to his face. “It’s all frowning and all.”

Did look at the lily in question, couldn’t really see where a face would be for it to frown. An eyebrow, maybe, in that line over there, or—“Oh,” when it hit him. The sagginess to the corners. “Yeah, I guess it is a bit sad.”

“They always are,” with a truly Hermione-level of self-assuredness. “Is it because of the, you know, the Terrible and Devastating Loss You’ve’ad Suffered and… everything Mrs. McGuire always goes on about?”

Choked on a startled laugh, buried his face in his palm. “Sorry! No, it’s not—sorry. Jesus, Ted, you surprised me there, is all.”

Thankfully, mercifully, Teddy laughed too. A bit like Malfoy’s laugh, loud and unselfconscious, a little wild. “Sorry, Uncle Harry! I didn’t mean to,” words lost in another burst of laughter. Harry’s chest went tight and over-warm, something fizzy and bright bubbling inside.

“Look at us,” he said in this thick voice he barely even recognised, “all sorry and silly like that.”

“So silly!” Ted shouted, delighted. “Gran would say we’re being so silly!”

“And what would Uncle Draco say?” with only a touch of self-loathing. Teddy’s smile went big, and he came closer, conspiratorial.

“He would say we’re being absolute gooses about it.”

“Geese,” smiling helplessly. “He’d say we’re being silly geese?”

“Absolute geeses!” shouting, “that we’re—we’re—honking!”

They both roared with it, arm flailing, belly-aching laughter, shouting things like “honk!” and “goose!” and “stop, Ted, oh, god, stop,” flat on the table and laughing. Harry was constantly wiping his eyes, shaking his head, overwhelmed with how tight his chest was, with how much he loved this silly little goose of a kid, who used to be quiet, who still sometimes was. Who was scratched in the same ways Harry had been, and then in different ways altogether. For whom Harry was an adult, was a fixture in a life that wasn’t entirely stable, that was, still, full of warmth and bursts of laughter.

“Hey,” he tapped Teddy’s shoulder, “when he comes in here, what do you think Uncle Draco’s going to say?”

Ted made a serious face, quivering at the edges. “He’ll say, ‘what on earth is happening here!’ and then,” giggling too hard to continue.

“Then?” Harry tried valiantly, covering his own uncontrollable giggles under his hand, “then he’ll—laugh?”

“Honk!” Teddy screamed, and they both lost it, both utterly and helplessly entranced, both, probably, a little bit in love with the image they each conjured of a bemused, sparkly-eyed Malfoy coming in with his arms crossed, with his slanted smile, with his frizzy hair and the piercings all shining in the kitchen’s florescent light. With the questions already on his face and his willingness to partake in any kind of idiocy, of silliness, with how he’d probably only make it worse.

“Honk,” Harry agreed, used his sleeve to wipe some snot, “oh god, Teddy, you’re—” no words to describe it. On the floor, Teddy had begun on what he named his ‘loose goose dance’, which involved mainly elbows and the occasional shriek, and Harry lost it, entirely, perpetually, lost it.

“Teddy!” screaming and joining, flinging his elbows in every direction, belly simmering with it, with how—how silly and light and terrific it all was, everything was, in existence: that he had his godson and his kitchen and his Malfoy and his, this, this terrible, sticky, peanut-butter-smelling moment, this lunacy.

A noise from the door—and there he was, their Malfoy, arms crossed and his face torn between amusement and surprise: “Hello there, Teddington, Harry. What—what on earth is—”

They both cracked with it, sobbing, melting down to the floor: “What,” Teddy, and “on earth,” Harry, lost, both of them lost to it, lost. In the distance, Malfoy was shouting (“what? What? You have to tell me, what?”) and they were all losing their minds, all already have lost.

(From act 2 of Wonder Full on which I'm, yes, still working, promise!)

#drarry fic #snip of a wip #I literally could not stop myself from sharing this.#it's been a tough week for whatever reason? silliness mostly? and this made me so happy #act 1 is actually my favourite thing i've written i think #teddy lupin #uncle harry being a good godfather #further proof i am addicted to silly geese

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hawkinspostbite · 4 years

Text

STRIKE

Words: 8,116

MASTERLIST

A/N: I do not claim to, nor do I own Stranger Things; the concept, characters, plot, etc.

MONDAY

Joanna stood right outside her locker, Carol, Nancy, and Diana standing around her. “So, strangely enough, I had to leave Billy’s last night. It was honestly embarrassing.” She sighed. “It’s never happened before, but I hit my sex breaking point.”

“Steve is unbelievable.” Di groaned, receiving questionable looks from the others. “Oh, I mean unbelievable in the way that he’s ridiculous. Checking on me every five seconds. I’m fine, just do what you’re doing, Jesus Christ.”

“If only I had your problem, I feel like Billy completely forgets I exist. Absolutely no control, and not a care for me.” Jo sighed.

“If I get within three feet of Tommy, he can’t keep his hands off of me. I can’t stand it.” Carol whined, examining her fingernails.

“Well at least your boyfriend likes you, I couldn’t tell you the last time Jonathan and I slept together.” Nancy counteracted.

“Jesus, we’re quite the mess, aren’t we?” Carol laughed pathetically. A few moments of silence passed.

“What if we went on a sex strike?” Jo spoke. Carol, Nancy, and Di looked at her in shock. “What-“

“That’s honestly not a bad idea.” Nancy said.

“Are you serious? That’s crazy.” Carol shrilled.

“Quiet down!” Jo swatted at her hand. “It’s not that crazy. It’ll be fun to watch them squirm.”

“They won’t even realize anything’s different.” Carol replied.

“One week, maybe not even- One week to prove to them that us and our needs are just as important as their’s.” Jo was becoming desperate to prove to the girls that this was in fact, a great idea. “By Friday, Carol, if Tommy can go without jumping your bones; Di, if Steve stops worrying about you; and Nancy, if Jonathan can’t keep his hand off of you, I win, and I get bragging rights. If not, I will treat you all to a shopping spree at the mall, no limit. And you can all say you told me so.”

“What about you?” Nancy asked.

“What about me?”

“What if you can’t get Billy to tend to you?”

“Then I’ll just look like a fool and continue to suffer.” Jo shrugged. “What do you say?”

“I say we get other girls in on this.” Di spoke up. The others look questioningly at her. “We can’t be the only four girls in Hawkins with bedroom issues. We should spread the word.”

“Damn.” Carol mumbled.

“You’re a genius.” Jo leaned over and kissed Di on the cheek. “Starting now, the female students of Hawkins high school are on a sex strike!” The four girls cheered, drawing the attention of passerby in the hallway. “We have to spread the word. I’ll take art.”

“I can cover gym.” Carol said.

“I have a double-period of English.” Di said.

“I guess I’ll cover science.” Nancy spoke.

The first period bell rang, interrupting their small power-trip. “Meet at lunch?” Jo asked. The others nodded, each of them smirking to themselves. The four girls went their separate ways, going to spread the word of their great idea.

Carol had gym first period. Normally she would stand, grumbling to herself against the bleachers, but today she almost made Mr. Sweeney keel over in shock from her participation in volleyball and her friendliness towards other students.

Nancy had science second period, and luckily for her, they had a group lab that day. Small notes, written in code were passed from female to female in the class.

Di had a double-period of honors English third and fourth, so her friend’s new plan made for interesting conversation between the girls at break.

Jo had art right before lunch, which made it a little more difficult to spread word, due to it being such a quiet class. But most of the work had already been done for her, because within the small whispers of the classroom, she heard talk of her master plan to rule against men.

Jo walked into the cafeteria, where she found Carol sitting with Tommy and Billy at their usual lunch table. “Hey babe.” Billy reached out to her, like he did every day. Jo ignored him, standing at the head of the table and seeing Nancy and Di waiting patiently at an empty table in the corner of the room.

“Carol, did you forget about that project we’re doing?” Jo whipped her head to look at her friend. “The others are waiting.”

“Oh shit! Yeah the project, totally forgot.” She pried herself away from Tommy’s grip, grabbing her bag and standing up.

“Hey, we don’t have a project in any class.” Billy said, his face twisting in confusion.

“Well we do.” Jo shrugged. “Super top-secret. You’re not allowed to know… And we’re pressed for time, sorry, bye.” She dragged Carol by her sleeve away from the table.

“Close one.” Carol sighed, sitting down next to Di.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I would’ve had to track you down though.” Jo rolled her eyes and sat next to Nancy.

“So have you heard the word around town yet?” Di asked proudly.

“Yeah, not much to talk about in a double-period of English is there?” Carol sneered.

“Jesus, must you be such a bitch all the time?” Jo snapped.

“Seriously?” Nancy groaned.

“I think the word is sufficiently spread.”

“I heard some freshman whispering about it in the hallway before third.” Carol smiled. “It’s definitely sufficiently spread.”

“So what’s the next move?” Nancy asked.

“We should have a party.” Jo said.

“I can’t host, my parents literally never leave the house.” Nancy sighed.

“I can’t either, my mom’s still pissed about the hole in the deck from the fourth of July.” Carol frowned.

The girls looked at Di. “Not even in the realm of possibility.”

“Fine, I can host.” Jo groaned. “I’ll just tell my dad to go away for the weekend or something.”

“He would do that?” Carol asked. “Like if you said, “dad just go away for the weekend”, he would?”

“Um, yes?”

“What if we made flyers?” Di asked. “Like maybe wallet-sized or something, so it would be harder for the guys to come across.”

“I could draw one up pretty quickly.” Jo shrugged.

“If we can find a way to make copies somehow, we can each give them out, and make official.”

Jo looked down at her watch. “There’s enough time for me to make a rough copy of the poster if I go now.” She gathered her things, standing from the bench.

“I’ll come with.” Carol grabbed her things as well.

“We can meet at my place after school.” Nancy said. “Mike will probably have his friends there, I’m sure one of them can help us figure out how to make copies of the poster.”

“If Max is there-“

“She would give her life for you Jo.” Di chuckled, making Jo smile.

“Alright, we’ll meet in the parking lot after school, see you then.”

Across the lunchroom, Billy watched as Jo and Carol left the room in a hurry. He had watched as they spent ten minutes talking with Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington’s new girlfriend, who he didn’t quite know the name of yet. That, the fact that Jo had left so suddenly last night, and her distance from him all day rubbed him the wrong way. “What do you think of that?” He asked Tommy.

“Those two being weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Well they’re always weird.”

Billy rolled his eyes, unsatisfied with his friend’s response. Hopefully, for both their sakes, Jo would stop being so strange.

In the empty art room, Jo scrambled quickly to find two pieces of poster-board and a marker. “So what’s the game-plan here?” Carol asked, sliding her backpack onto the big wooden table.

“A very rough draft of a sexy, female-empowering poster.” She concentrated on the paper as she scribbled Girls STRIKE at the top of the page, looking over at Carol questioningly.

“Yes, keep going.” Carol smiled.

Next, some random words at the bottom of the page, just to fill in the space. “What do I put in the middle?”

“Lips? Lipstick? The sign for females, you know, the one with the circle-”

“How about this?” Jo quickly drew the silhouette of a girl. “She can wear a dress. Or maybe not?”

“Right now she can just be a stick-figure.”

“But you get the idea?”

“Yeah I get the idea, I think it’s hot.”

“Well then we have our poster.” Jo high-fived Carol and rolled the paper up as the bell rang. The girls made their way to Jo’s locker where they placed the poster into safety.

At the end of the day, Jo retrieved the poster from her locker, meeting the others in the parking lot by Nancy’s car. “Come on, we’ve gotta go before the guys get out here!” Di squealed.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Jo and Carol climbed into the back of the car, leaving Di up front with Nancy and the middle for Mike.

“Hi boys.” Jo smiled at them as they climbed into the car.

“Just two of you today?” Nancy asked.

“Max, Dustin, and Will are coming over in a little bit. Max had to go home first and Steve’s gonna bring them over later. Hey.” Mike replied, suddenly noticing Jo’s appearance.

“We have a project.” Jo replied to Mike’s question he had yet to ask.

“Cool.”

Upon arrival at the Wheeler’s house, the four girls practically sprinted up to Nancy’s room, locking the door behind them. Jo pulled the poster out of her bag, laying it out on Nancy’s bed. “That’s…” Di began.

“Rough.” Nancy said.

“Yes, thank you.”

“But I think we get the picture.” Di smiled.

“So what exactly is the plan for the party? How are we supposed to keep guys from showing up?” Nancy asked.

“Or finding out?” Carol added.

“We aren’t.” Jo replied. “I mean, we’re supposed to try, but you know there’s no way to completely keep it from happening.”

“It’s like Hargrove has a built-in party-detector

“We need to try our best to make sure that other girls keep it as quiet as possible.” Di added.

“We should have a dress-code for the party.” Carole burst out.

“Like…?” Jo asked.

“Black and red.” Carole grinned. “Those are powerful colors.”

“Leather and lace optional?” Jo said, jokingly.

“That’s going on the poster!” Nancy agreed.

The girls continued to work out the details of the party, arrival time, alcohol, music, etcetera, and Jo noticed that Steve had dropped off the other kids. She left Nancy’s room, opening the door to the basement, she was met with immense noise. All six sets of eyes turned to look at her. “Max, can I talk to you upstairs quick?”

Max, confused, followed Jo up the stairs, back to Nancy’s room. Upon seeing the poster on the bed, she stopped dead in her tracks. “What is going on?”

“We need your help.” Nancy said.

“What are you guys doing? Organizing some weird sex strike or something?” Max laughed nervously.

“Actually, yes.” Jo said.

“You’re joking- That was a joke. Are you serious?” Jo nodded. “That’s disgusting, I did not need to know that.”

“Relax Maxine, sex is a part of life-“ Carol smiled.

“Jesus Christ, Carol! The last thing I need is Billy finding out that we gave Max a bootleg sex-ed class in Nancy’s bedroom, oh my god.” Jo snapped at her.

“So what exactly did you need help with?” Max walked up to the bed, further examining the poster.

“We need help making copies of this, to pass out to other girls.” Jo answered.

“We were thinking maybe wallet-sized, or a little bigger?” Di added.

“I know how to copy and print and everything, but we figured that the schools wouldn’t be too happy knowing that we were producing sex-strike posters to hand out on campus.” Nancy shrugged.

“Yeah, I can imagine…” Max sighed.

“But we know you have an in at the library-“ Jo began.

“I work there on weekends, yes.”

“Do you think we could get in this week to make copies?” Jo smiled. “Please Max, I’ll do anything. I’ll take Billy off your case for as long as I can, I’ll even take you and your friends out for pizza and ice cream next week. Literally anything, just please get us twenty minutes in the library copy room.”

Jo was practically on the floor, begging Max. She pursed her lips. “You and Nancy pick me up after school tomorrow. I’ll tell Marissa that I need the copy machine for a school project.”

“Thank you so much Max!” Jo jumped up from the floor, wrapping her arms around the younger girl.

“You owe me so much.”

“I’ve never broken a promise before.” Jo held her pinkie out, locking it with Max’s.

Max left Nancy’s room, still feeling slightly uncomfortable, and she rejoined her friends in the basement. “What did she want?” Will asked.

“Something stupid about my brother.” Max rolled her eyes, playing it off.

“I still don’t understand how they’re together.” Lucas said.

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

“Your brother is like the biggest asshole on planet Earth, and Jo is like-“

“The total opposite!” Dustin interrupted. “She’s into art, and she’s quiet, and she’s nice to us. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Lucas agreed.

“Me either.” Mike said.

“I don’t get it just as much as you guys.” Max shrugged.

Upstairs, Jo had rolled the poster back up, in preparation to leave. “I’ve got to head out before it gets too dark.”

“Prince Bad-ass in his blue chariot isn’t going to come give you a lustrous ride all the way to Trestle road?” Carol snickered.

Jo patted at the poster in her hand. “Nope, it would ruin the plan.”

“He’s gonna be pretty pissed when he finds out you walked home by yourself.”

“So come with me?” Jo raised her eyebrows. “You can spend the night. We’ll stop at your house, you can pick up some clothes.”

Carol sighed. “I suppose I could.” She turned to gather her things. “Your dad home? He gonna let us drink?”

“It’s Wednesday for god’s sake.” Jo rolled her eyes. “Di, you wanna walk?”

“No, I’m gonna hang here until Steve comes for Dustin, but thanks anyway.”

“Be careful.” Nancy waved them goodbye.

“Play it cool, see you tomorrow!” Jo yelled back.

The two girls began their sunset-trek from Maple street to Pine, where they stopped at Carol’s house. Her mother was at the grocery store, and her father had yet to return from work, but her older brother was there. “Hey, we’re gonna need you to get us some supplies for a party Friday.” Carol said, writing a quick note to her parents about her whereabouts.

“Don’t I get an invite?” He asked.

Carol snickered. “Not with that thing hanging between your legs.”

“Sorry, girls only.” Jo shrugged. Carol and Jo retreated into her room briefly, for Carol to pack an overnight bag. Her phone began to ring. “I didn’t know you got your own line?”

“It’s the latest addition.” Carol set her bag down and walked over to the phone. “As you can imagine, only one person really calls it. And I’m sure that’s who this is now- Hello?”

Surely it was Tommy.

“Yeah I’m sleeping over at Jo’s.

I know we were at Nancy’s all night, for that project we told you about at lunch?

“Uh, well- What class is this project for?” She held the receiver to her shoulder, blocking sound from traveling to Tommy.

“Art?” Jo answered, questionably.

“It’s an art project Jo has. She needed us all together but she has to work with us separately. We ran out of time at Nancy’s so we’re going to her house.

Yeah, my mom’s gonna give us a ride.

Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Jesus Christ.” She hung up the phone, and then unplugged it. “I’ll save my folks some grief.”

Carol finished packing her bag as the sun set, and the girls finished their walk, two streets over to Trestle road, where Jo lived. “Hey dad, I’m home, and I brought Carol with me.”

Jo’s dad sat in their small living room, half-asleep as the television lulled in the background. “Hey girls, what are we up to tonight.”

“I have an art project that I need Carol’s help with if that’s okay. She’s gonna spend the night.”

“Fine by me, just make sure you two are up for school in the morning.”

“Thanks dad, love you.”

“There’s pizza in the fridge by the way, and anything else you want, just help yourselves.” Carole smiled at Jo’s dad’s kindness. “By the way, Billy called. He seemed worried, you might wanna call him back.”

Jo rolled her eyes.

Jo and Carol went down the steps, into the basement, which had been fortified as a bedroom for Jo. Quite frankly, it was the best hangout spot any of their friends had. It had a bed, 2 couches, a small television and radio, an attached bathroom, and a pool table, making it the ideal place for drinking, smoking, and sleeping, and now, secretive “art” projects.

Carol unrolled the two posters, laying the scribbled one next to the blank one. Jo picked up the phone connected to the wall, dialing Billy’s number and hoping that whatever god was listening, made him not pick up. Lucky for her, he didn’t, so she proceeded to leave a quick message on his answering machine. “Hey baby, it’s me. Don’t be mad… But Carol and I walked from Nancy’s home after school… C is sleeping over, we’re still working on that project. I’m guessing you’re pretty pissed at me, and you’re probably out drinking or something like that. Be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“That was disgustingly cute.” Carol snickered from the floor.

“Yeah, and he won’t suspect a thing. Plus tomorrow we’ll fight about the fact that I walked home, so he won’t even care about the mysterious project anymore.”

Jo gathered her markers and watercolors and sat down next to Carol. “So honestly, you can turn the T.V on, you don’t have to sit and watch me try to perfect this.”

“It’s fine, I like to watch artists work.” She settled herself more comfortably onto the floor, holding a pillow in her lap.

“I am by no means, an “artist”, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. Go put a record on.” Jo hated to make Carol get up after she had gotten comfortable, but she couldn’t work in silence.

“I don’t know how you expect to work with this absolute masterpiece playing in the background, but to each their own…” Of all the records to pick, Carol had chosen Queen’s, “Jazz”.

“You’re totally right, why would you put this on?”

Carol threw herself onto the couch. “Because I don’t want to listen to anything depressing while we’re plotting a sex strike.”

“Right.” Jo nodded her head.

For quite awhile, Jo worked on the poster, while Carol watched over her, quietly humming to the music. Occasionally, they would burst out singing, and laugh, and then return to work.

After three hours, a short pizza break, and only one “maybe we should rethink this whole plan” dilemma, the sun had completely gone down outside, no light peered in from the singular tiny window across the room. The poster was complete. “That’s a keeper, for sure.” Carol admired the artwork laid out on the floor.

“I’m quite honestly shocked that I did it with such little preparation.” She turned around to look at her friend. “Do you think it’ll get the point across?”

“I mean everyone basically knows from word-of-mouth anyway, this is just a seal-the-deal type of thing. I think it should be fine.”

“Not too much information? I mean, it doesn’t say my house but nobody else lives on this street except for Mrs. Goldson.”

“Yeah, she’s deaf.”

“Exactly-“

“No, I think we’ll be fine. Stop worrying. This is gonna be awesome.” Carol climbed down from the couch, sitting face-to-face with her best friend. “We’re gonna get to watch them sweat. Can you imagine their faces when they realize what’s going on? It’ll be priceless.”

Jo raised her eyebrows. “This isn’t a little cruel?”

“The whole reason we’re doing this is because we need paid attention to! Who gives a shit what they want, it’s time for them to cater to us. We’re women, damn it! Without us, nobody would be here, so they’re gonna start being a little more grateful for our presence.” Carol grinned.

“In the end, we’re gonna win, regardless.”

TUESDAY

After Jo’s pep-talk, and a shot, for an extra boost of courage, the two girls went to bed. The next morning, Jo’s dad drove the two of them to school, the finished poster rolled as small as possible so as to not draw any suspicion. It was hard work, trying to avoid Billy and Tommy, and the rest of their friends on the basketball team, where they usually hung out in the parking lot in the morning. They had to crouch behind a group of freshmen girls to safely get inside the school.

“It should be safe in my locker.” Jo said, hushed. “He doesn’t know my combination- Thank god.” She shoved the poster inside, quickly closing the door and turning to face Carol.

“Ready to face the world?”

Down the hallway, Billy and Tommy came into view, the rest of their friends following behind like groupies.

“Act natural.” The two nodded to each other, making their way towards their boyfriends.

Neither of them suspected anything.

Throughout the day, they tried their best to carry on like normal. Nancy and Di briefly caught up with each of them at lunch, saying that Jonathan and Steve hadn’t expected anything. Speaking of lunch, it was the most difficult period, trying to not to perform excessive PDA on their boyfriends without them suspecting something was harder than they had originally thought. “Strike! You’re on strike!” They had to keep reminding themselves.

At the end of the day, they had to, once again sneak away from the boys. Steve was in the parking lot, waiting with Dustin for Di. Jonathan was with Nancy, standing between their cars. Will, Lucas, and Mike were inside Jonathan’s car. “Hey.” Jo said, walking up to them.

“We’re waiting for Max.” Nancy replied.

“She had to pick up her skateboard from the office.” Will spoke from inside the car.

Jo gave him a questioning look. “She was skating before homeroom and the secretary took it from her.” Lucas answered.

“What a bitch.” Jo rolled her eyes, seeing Max walk into view.

“Sorry, Ms. Leen took my board this morning-“ She grumbled, her board tucked under her arm.

“No worries.” Nancy said, turning to get into her car.

“What’d you tell Billy?” Jo asked, climbing into the passenger seat. They waved goodbye to the boys in the other car.

“Picking up extra hours at work.” Max replied, laying her board down on the floor. “You guys were taking me so you can work on your project.”

“Thank god.” Nancy sighed.

The girls drove to the library. The older girls followed Max inside, waiting for her to convince Marissa to let them use the copy machine. After quite a few minutes of coaxing, she allowed them thirty minutes, after that she’d have to charge them for ink.

Inside the copy room, Max set up the machine, making roughly sixty wallet-sized replicas of the poster Jo painted. Nancy and Jo began to cut them up as Max watched them run through the machine. “Do I want to know the story behind this scheme?”

Nancy and Jo looked at each other. “No.” They said in unison.

“It’s probably better if you didn’t.” Nancy said.

They somehow managed to copy, print, and cut up all the cards within their thirty minute time-slot. Thanking Marissa, they rushed back to Nancy’s car. Nancy took Jo home first, a rationing of cards enough for her and Carol in her grasp. “I’ll get some to Di tonight, they’ll probably come and pick up Will and Dustin.” Nancy said.

“Max, not a word to Billy, right?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Start trying to find a date that works for everyone to go out for food, okay? See you guys tomorrow.”

Billy had been suspicious of Jo since Monday, when she left him alone with Tommy at lunch. Jo was always sneaky and strange but it wasn’t out of the ordinary. He admired her for her quirks. But this time it wasn’t just one of her quirks, it was more like she was deliberately being weird. It bugged the shit out of him.

Monday and Tuesday he had been fucking up in practice, getting his ass reamed out at home by his dad, and practically slept through the first half of his school schedule. He spent half the night awake, wondering why Jo hadn’t come over at all, and barely let him touch her.

By the time practice ended on Tuesday, he had already reached his breaking point. “Has Carol been acting weird at all this week?” He asked Tommy, as they gathered in the locker room to shower.

“Not really, she’s just been spending a lot of time at Jo’s, why?”

Billy shook his head. “Well Jo has. She hasn’t come over at all. Normally she’s over every damn night.”

“Chicks are weird, man. They go through phases.” Tommy shrugged.

Billy didn’t buy it. Tommy was no help, but he knew who could be, and he was ready to push some buttons.

Billy arrived at Jo’s house, and let himself in. Her dad wasn’t home, so she was alone. Quietly, he passed through the living room and into the kitchen, seeing her standing over the stove, the draw-fan on full-blast, blocking out any background sound. “Ya know, you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

“Jesus!” She jumped, turning around and clutching a wooden spoon to her chest.

“No, just me.” He smirked, stepping forward to grab her hips. But she twisted out of his grasp, turning back around to stir whatever was in the pot. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning forward. “What’re you making?”

“Trying to boil noodles for macaroni and cheese.” She mumbled, concentrated at the pot of still water on the stove. “Don’t think I have it hot enough.”

He looked up at the dials, reaching to turn the one for her burner all the way up. “Can’t cook noodles on a simmer.”

“I don’t love cooking. Can you tell?” She laughed as the flames grew underneath the pot. “Wanna do it for me?”

“If you insist…” He rolled his eyes jokingly. “Just as long as you get everything else ready. Think you can manage it?”

“I think I can.” Jo turned to grab a packet of powder off the counter. “It’s Kraft.”

Billy boiled the noodles, and drained them, and Jo mixed the cheese sauce together. The two ate their macaroni, and talked about their days at school. Eventually, they moved down to Jo’s room. They sat on the couch, enjoying the comfortable silence they provided each other. Until Billy had to ruin it.

“You been okay lately?” He whispered, running his hands through her hair.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yes… Why?”

“Dunno… Just haven’t seen much of you this week. How’s that project of your’s going?”

He felt her tense up in his lap. “It’s fine. Almost done, gotta hand it in Friday afternoon.”

“Huh, really. How have the other’s been? Helpful?”

“Others? Oh, Nancy, C, and Diana? Yeah, very helpful, probably couldn’t do it without them.”

“When do I get to see this super top-secret, mysterious art project?” He smiled, trying not to make it seem like he suspected anything weird was going on.

“Well…” She sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll be getting it back, it might be going to the art show at the end of the semester.”

Nice cover. He thought.

Billy was currently content with sitting in the quiet and enjoying each other’s company. It was the most physical contact they had had all week. Eventually though, he let his mind wander, and soon his hands, and then Jo found herself in a predicament.

God, it felt nice, having him kiss her, and touch her, but damnit she was supposed to be on a strike. She couldn’t let it go any further.

Billy’s hands traveled under Jo’s shirt. She pulled away from his kiss. “Mm, I’m kinda tired.”

He still didn’t move his hands. “C’mon, this is the most I’ve seen of you all week. Let’s just have some fun.”

He leaned forward, catching her lips in his again. She sighed, once again pulling away. “No- No. I don’t want to, c’mon not tonight.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists, removing his fingers from under her shirt.

Billy groaned, flopping his head against the back of the couch dramatically.

Jo couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit guilty.

She climbed off of his lap. “I’d say you can spend the night, but I don’t trust you won’t somehow talk me into sleeping with you, so I think I’m gonna have to ask you to go home.”

Billy’s jaw dropped. She had never asked him to leave before.

“What has gotten into you lately-“

“Nothing, nothing. My dad’s gonna be home, and we have school tomorrow…”

“That’s never stopped us before.” He grumbled, standing up and fixing his shirt.

“Doesn’t matter, no means no.” She chewed at her lip. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like it.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Billy rolled his eyes, staring at his girlfriend. “Am I at least permitted a kiss before I go?”

Jo smiled softly, leaning up on her tip-toes to kiss him. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Billy was damn sure there was something suspicious going on now.

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday was tough. Carol had skipped school, just to avoid Tommy. Nancy had skipped for a college visit, and Di joined her. So it was just Jo alone all day, with Billy and Tommy, and their idiot friends.

Billy was sure he had become wise to what was going on. Putting the pieces together: Tommy saying Carol was acting weird, Jo not wanting to have sex last night, the secret “art” project. The two of them had created a sex-pact, and the art project had something to do with it. (He hadn’t worked out all of the pieces yet.)

Billy was a born-instigator, so naturally, he made it his mission, to break the pact. And he took out all the stops.

He made sure to wear extra of the cologne she loved on him, only buttoned his shirt up halfway, smiled more often, and was extra sweet to her in the morning.

In their fourth-period gym class, he gave Mr. Sweeney to brilliant idea of having the guys play shirts versus skins during their basketball drills. He, of course volunteered his group for skins, trying his hardest to drive Jo wild. He winked and smiled at her from across the gym, watching repeatedly as her cheeks flushed red in the middle of a conversation with someone.

At lunch he made sure to keep at least one of his hands on her thigh at all times, complimenting her any chance he got. And when he waited for her at his car after school, he made sure he was smoking a cigarette, because although she detested the habit, she thought it was hot.

He greeted her with a kiss and watched as she got into the passenger seat; He followed, in the driver’s seat. He reached across her lap, into the glovebox, grabbing a piece of gum. “Gum?” He asked, slowly breaking the piece in half and sticking it in his mouth.

She practically drooled. “I know what you’re doing. It isn’t going to work.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about princess.” He grinned, starting the car. “Just asking my gorgeous girlfriend if she wants a piece of gum.”

Jo breathed in deeply. “Shut up.” She said through clenched teeth.

Wednesday afternoon was when Steve began to get suspicious. Di hadn’t wanted to do anything but drive around and listen to music since Sunday night. She made no extra effort to be affectionate, physically or verbally, and Steve was beginning to panic. Had he done something wrong? Had he said something wrong? Did he spend too much time with Dustin? Did she not like the music he played? A million questions ran through his mind all day, leading up until the very moment he picked her up from school.

He had told Dustin that morning he was going to have to get a ride with Jonathan, because he desperately needed to talk to Di. Dustin asked no questions, he knew exactly what Steve was going through, he had had his fair share of lady-problems too. Communicating with his girlfriend Suzie in Washington was more often difficult than simple.

When Di got into the car, she greeted him with a kiss, which was not out of the ordinary. They went through their regular routine of asking how each other’s days were, and chit-chatting about the college visit and work at the video store. A few moments of silence passed, and Steve couldn’t control himself anymore. “Are we okay?”

Di turned to look at him suddenly. “What?”

“Are we okay? Am I doing everything okay?”

“Steve-“

“You haven’t really talked to me that much the past few days, and all you’ve wanted to do is drive around, not that I mind, I love spending time with you, but we haven’t just done nothing, or just hung out in awhile and I feel like it’s something I did, or something I said. If it is, please tell me, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever say it again. Whatever it is, I didn’t mean it, it was stupid of me-“

“Steve. Relax.” Di tightened her grip on his hand, where it was placed on her thigh.

“Oh- Sorry. It’s just-“

And then that’s when Di began to panic. “Please take me home.”

Steve slammed on his brakes in the middle of the street, his eyes going wide. He ripped his hand from her thigh, placing it on the gear shift. Di was never confrontational, she wasn’t aggressive. There was nothing wrong with between her and Steve, and she couldn’t come up with a logical excuse for why she wanted to just drive around, so she told him to take her home.

She was already mentally slapping herself.

“I-uh, okay.”

The rest of the drive to Di’s house, Steve said not one word. Neither did Di. He dropped her off, watching longingly as she silently got out of his car, and walked to her house.

Steve spent the entire drive home trying not to cry.

Billy dropped Jo off at her house, watching as she begrudgingly gave him a kiss. “Call me if you need anything… Or anyone.” He winked, watching as she clenched her jaw.

On her front porch she stood, shaking her head and flipping him off as he drove down the street, music blasting at max volume, pleased with the shit he had pulled.

He had definitely cracked the code.

THURSDAY

Jo spent Wednesday night sufficiently frustrated. She was mad at herself, for coming up with such a stupid idea. Who even strikes things anymore? She was mad at Nancy, Diana, and Carol for agreeing to her stupid idea. And most importantly, she was mad at Billy for figuring out what was going on, and making it his life’s mission to tease the shit out of her.

She expressed her frustrations to Carol over the phone after she had been dropped off. “How could we be so dumb?” “Since when did he get so clever?” “What the fuck is wrong with us?” Were just a few of the things she had said to Carol.

Carol was practically glued to her side all day Thursday. “They can’t possibly mess with both of us. We just have to distract each other.” She had said. She was only partially right.

Billy seemed to have let Tommy in on the girls’s little secret, and the two of them were the pair from hell. All day, any opportunity they got, they were doing something to get under their skin. Tiny little movements, whispering in their ears, stupid shit. And of course they got a reaction, because Carol and Jo were nothing if not predictable.

The pair went to Carol’s after school. She left her phone unplugged still.

After practice, Billy ditched Max, telling her to skate home, and drove himself to Steve Harrington’s house. He hated that he even knew where he lived, but he had been at a party there last summer, and he hated to admit it, but Harrington threw a wicked party.

He had barely gotten out of the car when he saw Steve step out his front door, a bouquet of roses in his hand. “I love you. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?”

“Hey, Harrington!” Billy called, casually walking towards him.

Steve looked up, eyes wide in shock. He flung the flowers behind him, quickly stuffing both of his hands into his pockets. “Hargrove, hey man, what’s up.”

“Those for your girlfriend?” Billy pointed to the discarded bunch of flowers on the ground.

“Oh, these?” Steve turned around, picking them up. “Yeah, they’re for Diana.”

“She been acting weird lately?” Billy chewed at his lower lip. “Because Joanna has, and I know they’re doing a project together, so I was wondering-“

Steve interrupted him. “Joanna is always weird.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “That’s besides the point. Has Diana been acting weird? Jo has been out-of-the-ordinary weird, and I’m wondering if it’s that project they’re doing.”

“Di hasn’t mentioned a project to me…” Steve fiddled with the wrapping on the bouquet.

Billy raised his eyebrows. “Hmm. That’s weird. Jo said she had a project in art. Wheeler, Carol, and your girlfriend have been helping her out with it since Monday. Funny she didn’t mention it. You’ll have to ask her about it… Thanks anyway.”

Billy turned on his heel, walking back towards his car. “Actually, she has been acting a little strange.” Billy grinned, turning back to face Steve. “Every night she just wants to drive around and that’s it, she won’t do anything except hold my hand.”

Billy nodded, motioning to the flowers in Steve’s hand. “You go give her those flowers, I’ll handle the rest.” Billy twirled his keys between his fingers. “I’m gonna figure out why the girls have been acting up, don’t you worry pretty boy.”

Meanwhile, Steve had taken it upon himself to drive over to Diana’s house. She clearly didn’t want to talk to him, so he decided to leave the flowers at her doorstep. He managed to find an sticky note in his glove box, and on it he wrote I love you, I’m sorry. Just as he rehearsed, even though he still didn’t know why he was supposed to be sorry. He rang the doorbell and sprinted back to his car.

On his way home, and throughout the rest of the night he couldn’t stop the thoughts swirling his head. Why was she mad at him? What did he do? What did he say? Did she get the flowers? If she got them, did she like them? Did she see the note? He didn’t sign his name, would she know they were from him?

Steve didn’t sleep much that night.

Upon arriving at home, Billy found the house completely uninhabited. Max’s backpack had been thrown haphazardly inside the front door, almost making him trip over it. He kicked at it, causing it to slump sideways. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought twice about picking it up and taking it to her room, and then yelling at her when she got home about it “Max don’t leave your fucking backpack right inside the door, I almost died!” But a small piece of white paper sticking out of the front pocket caught his eye first.

He bent down, pulling it out of the bag, and when he read it, he almost threw up. It was a tiny, wallet-sized piece of card-stock, Girls STRIKE was painted across the top of it in red ink, but that wasn’t the most disturbing part. “Leather + Lace optional”, was what really got him. What the hell was Max doing with a card that said that on it? Where did she get it? Why did she keep it?

Holding the card between his fingers, he rushed into the kitchen, quickly dialing Tommy’s number on the phone. “Dude, you have got to see this shit. I’ll meet you in ten.” He said, hanging up and going back outside to his car.

He did make it across town to Loch Nora in record time, laying on his horn for Tommy to come outside. He had just planned to sit in the car and show Tommy the card. “Look at what I found in Maxine’s backpack.” Billy sighed, tossing the card into Tommy’s lap.

“Shit, what’s your thirteen-year-old sister doing with this?” Tommy examined it.

“My thoughts exactly.” Billy replied. “But then I remembered that she went to the library with Joanna and Nancy Wheeler on Tuesday after school. And who’s been acting weird this week, but Jo and Carol, and they’ve been working on that stupid art project with Wheeler.”

“So… You think this is the art project?”

“Could be.” Billy lit a cigarette. “I went over to Harrington’s after school. He said his girlfriend has been acting weird too lately.”

“She’s included in that project the girls are doing.”

“Precisely, amigo.”

“So what are we supposed to do about this?” Tommy waved the card in his hand.

“Looks like we’ve got a party to go to.”

Also, over on Isola Road, Nancy was secretly sleeping over at Jonathan’s. Joyce never actually had an issue with Nancy staying over, she trusted both of them, but understood how it might be awkward to asl your mom if your girlfriend can stay over, so she let them continue with their “secret” sleepovers. Nancy was hesitant to say yes Jonathan’s fifth-period offer, “Wanna stay the night?” He asked. Then she figured, maybe she should stay over, and make it a point to mention their issue. After all, her problem was very much different from the other girls’s.

But alas, they never got the chance. When she arrived, they got right to work on studying for an English exam, and then they decided to watch a movie. (A television was the latest and greatest edition to Jonathan’s bedroom) And by the time the movie was over, they were basically half-asleep, so what would be the point in mentioning sex now? Whether it was happening, or not.

They laid in bed, side-by-side, barely touching each other. “Jonathan?” Nancy said, the darkness of the room making her voice seem a lot louder than it actually was.

“Yeah Nance?”

“You know you can touch me, right? Like we can cuddle or whatever, you aren’t gonna break me.”

From beside her, Jonathan chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay…” Nancy turned on her side, facing away from him. She was about to fall asleep, feeling completely and utterly defeated, when she felt Jonathan’s arm wrap around her middle. She smiled, feeling slightly accomplished.

Nancy had a good night’s sleep that night.

FRIDAY

Friday was a relatively easy day. Tommy and Billy had decided to keep their distance from their girlfriends, not wanting to draw any extra attention to themselves, or make them wise to the fact that they knew everything that they were scheming.

After Billy had talked to Tommy, he had driven over to Steve’s, tossing the card at him just like he did Tommy. “Told ya I’d figure it out.” Steve was shell-shocked, eyes wide and nodding at everything Billy was saying. He grasped most of the information. “This is why your girl’s been acting weird… Party at Joanna’s on Friday… Better call Byers to let him know…”

Steve did call Jonathan, who had absolutely no clue anything was going on, he had had a big project at the Post throughout the week that had taken most of his focus away from school.

So the plan was set, Billy was going to pick everyone up, and they were crashing the fucking party.

Jo had told her dad to go away for the weekend. “It’s just a little party dad, a couple girls. No boys, I pinky-swear. Please…” She didn’t have to beg much, her dad would probably do anything she asked, almost short of murder if she said please.

Nancy and Di had made sure to have secure alibis with their parents, and bags already packed. Nancy drove them all to Jo’s house, where they finished setting up what Jo had done earlier.

She had cleaned the house the night before, trying to take her frustrations out by tidying up. Carol’s brother dropped off copious amounts of alcohol, and a gram of weed just for an extra treat (He had a soft-spot for Jo). Red lights were strung up around the entire house; the living room, kitchen, all over the basement. The entire kitchen table was covered in drinks, and Carol was on music-duty so it would be nonstop bangers all night.

Nothing could go wrong.

They all got dressed, none of them wore leather or lace, it was more of a joke, but they did wear black and/or red. “We look hot!” Di squealed.

Girls began to arrive as early as seven thirty, to which they were gladly welcomed. Within an hour, the party was in full-swing, music blasting, alcohol flowing; someone had brought glitter and it was everywhere, but nobody cared, because there was not a man in sight.

That was, until, Jo heard the roar of a scarily familiar car engine from outside the house.

She stopped, dead in her tracks, almost spitting out her drink. From across the room, her and Nancy locked eyes. Shit. No, no, it couldn’t be, the boys didn’t know about the party.

Jo walked through the crowd of girls to the front window, staring in shock as Billy stepped out of the Camaro. “Holy shit.” She mumbled.

She set her drink down on the windowsill, rushing to step onto the front porch. Nancy, noticing her panicked stare from across the room, grabbed Di and Carol and they followed her onto the porch. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jo said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she greeted her boyfriend.

“You’re found out sweetheart. We’ve come to crash the party.”

“But- How? How did you find out?”

Billy pulled the wallet-sized card out of his pocket. “Max kept a copy for herself after your little library rendezvous.”

“Well shit.” Jo face-palmed.

“Just give up, give in. You’ve lost.” The four girls stood, shocked at the presence of their boyfriends, who stood smugly in front of them. “C’mon, it was a good effort, but we figured you out. Throw in the towel.”

Not thinking her friends would give up so easily, Jo shook her head. But to her surprise, her friends had actually thrown in the towel. Billy walked forward, pulling her to him by her waist. She couldn’t put up a fight, she had been so strong all week, but she was finally ready to give in. “How I’ve missed you, princess.” Jo pouted as he peppered her face with kisses. “We’ve got some lost time to make up for, come on.”

Jo was a too drunk to form coherent thoughts, let alone form a coherent argument to figure out how or why or when Billy had figured out their plan. When she took Max and her friends out for food this week, she would have to investigate how Max managed to steal a copy of the poster.

From over Billy’s shoulder, she watched as the other girls desperately fell into the arms of their boyfriends. Shit, they had lost. They had lasted the entire week, but the hadn’t been able to keep it a secret.

Defeated, she let Billy drag her to the depths of her bedroom, locking the door, and finally surrendering to him.

MONDAY

On Monday, the girls met outside, next to Nancy’s car.

Nancy was glowing, the winter sun illuminating her face, her cheeks a bright rosy tint. Carol was grinning from ear to ear, clearly exponentially happy. Diana was staring blissfully into the distance. Jo was happy, albeit angry with how her plan failed, she had an extremely euphoric weekend.

“So, ladies, how was your weekend?”

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things masterlist #stranger things fanfiction #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #jonathan byers #jonathan byers imagine #Nancy Wheeler #nancy wheeler imagine

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reverxnce · 3 years

Text

|| Continued ||

@counttwo-4

His courageous savior, it seemed, had lingered near one of the pews.

Instead of the holy-looking armor, he wore a sweater that barely fit him and his old military pants that were… horribly tattered, and was barefoot. His prosthetic leg faintly gleamed a tad in the candlelight– an old thing that looked to have been added on to time and time again with a strange, futuristic technology that could only be described as alien, with techno-organic wires that looked to be brass covering a wooden-ceramic leg, like muscle covering bone, with a few golden glows beneath it. Upon his palms, strange sigils were visible– much like before. His palms, his feet (yes, including his prosthetic), and his whole back… covered by his sweater.

Of course, beneath his attire was also quite a few bandages, too. But… his expression visibly softened for once, watching Ezekiel kneel before the crucifix and pray.

Slowly, Ezekiel was returning to his normal self, the Arch-Judicator knew, but he knew one thing: the knowledge of Hell would still cause pain. Still cause fear. He couldn’t have that– and, soon, he’d have to help him forget it in the same way he had with the girl he considered his granddaughter… but… Not yet.

Right now (even if he huffily didn’t want to admit it in his horrid state), he wanted to spend time with Ezekiel. He’d at least admit he really wished he had his own old clothes, but they wouldn’t fit him anymore. Not with all the muscle he gained from fighting… felt like a super soldier. Like one of those old comic books that William liked, back in the war. Captain America.

… But, first, he found himself slowly pressing his own hands together. A small gesture, still as silent as could be, his weary eyes, weary from war, from death, from suffering and pain and living for literal eons, staring off at the crucifix, at Jesus’s face. And silently– after ages, he prayed, too.

Lord… I know, I’ve never prayed ever since the war. I’ve done so many things in vain, I’ve succumbed to wrath and rage and things considered unforgiveable, maybe, by most. I do not deserve peace, nor happiness. I do not deserve the joys of life… but Ezekiel Brown does. All I ask is that you give the courage and the happiness and peace that he begs of you to him. He deserves it most.

… Amen.

He dropped his head after finding himself making a small cross, his hands soon dropping to his sides… and, he finally spoke when he knew Ezekiel had finished his prayer.

“ … Mr. Reverend? ”

“Goodness - it’s you!” Ezekiel had promptly turned, a hand raised to his heart in a gesture of surprise. “Gosh, how long have you been there?” A light chuckle left him, greeting the other with a smile. It was always nice to hear the other vocalise once in a while. It was so very rare that he spoke, it was almost special no matter how simple the words.

“I was just prepping the altar; thought I might reopen the Church tomorrow? I think it’s about time I got back to work. Too much time spent in my room lately. Besides, I miss it. What do you think?”

He still wasn’t quite back to normal. Sleep had been a massive issue in the last couple of months; the Reverend was tired and it showed. But it was getting better, bit by bit. And Ezekiel was starting to realise that he needed to get back out there, or else he would get stuck in a rut and not be able to climb out again. He was already oversleeping daily as it was. He’d had a rest, now he needed to rework that sense of purpose back into his life. He was ready.

Warm smile still present, he clutched the broom with both hands.

“Sorry, here I am going on about I, me, mine - did you need something?”

#counttwo-4

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dnfisgay · 4 years

Text

Mr. Loverman - Chapter 1

a/n: hey! welcome to my first fic on here! i kinda feel like i’m back in freshman year writing youtube rpf but hey! we’re all regressing anyway aren’t we? this is a dreamnotfound fic based on the online personas of georgenotfound and dream. this is in no way meant to pressure them or their relationship, and if either of them say they’re uncomfortable with fanfiction i’ll take this down! but anyway at the beginning of every chapter there will be a content warning section and a summary if needed, or if any plot altering events happen during the possibly triggering sections. i hope y’all enjoy Mr. Loverman, a fic based on the song by Ricky Montgomery.

THIS IS MY OWN WORK. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER BLOGS/SITES WITHOUT PERMISSION. DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN.

Prologue

Sometimes, a simple decision is what changes your life the most. Sometimes, a tragedy is a blessing in disguise. Not always, but enough of the time for a few lucky people to benefit. We were some of those people. A simple decision changed... everything. Everyone. Changed me, changed him. Sometimes, we regret those decisions. Other times, they’re the best thing that’s ever happened. We made history together. We made our own history. We changed ourselves for the better. Part of it was born of tragedy, of pain and suffering, of wrong-place-wrong-time. But after, we were born anew. A butterfly emerging from fog.

The rainbow after a storm. A soft mist at the edge of a violent fall. Our own little refuge within the storm. We made history together, you and me.

“I've shattered now, I'm spilling out Upon this linoleum ground I'm reeling in my brain again Before it can get back to you Oh, what am I supposed to do without you?”

Content Warnings: none

Word count: 1,520

Chapter One - A New Chapter Of Us

“What if we moved in together?”

George laughed.

‘What? You’re joking.”

“No! I’m totally serious!” Dream said, laying on his bed. “Think about it. You could get a work visa, come live with me, and we can make videos together! Like vlogs and stuff! You can get away from your family, and I… well I get you! It’s obviously a win-win situation.”

“Vlogs? You don’t even show your face.”

“Oh… yeah. Well, whatever! I’ll do a face reveal. Please, George!”

George’s hesitance showed, making Dream bounce on his knees on the bed, literally begging him.

“Please George! Please!” he laughed, waiting for him to agree. George stayed silent, trying to hide his smile.

“I guess you don’t love me then… oh bother,” Dream fake pouted at him, pretending to cry, rubbing his eyes to make them red. He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice.

“Okay, alright, you wore me down,” George said. “Looks like I’m going to Florida!”

---

It’d been three months since Dream asked George to move in with him, and every day he’d sent him pictures of their place. Their place. He doesn’t know why that made him so happy to hear, especially coming from Dream. When he showed George the lounge and texted him “our living room :D,” he felt like his whole entire body was lit ablaze. Like a firework on the Fourth of July -- how American of you already, George, he could hear Dream’s voice saying. It felt like when his first girlfriend told him I love you for the first time. Except... not that. Obviously not that.

And the day was finally here, after waiting for the visa to get approved, and video chats, and seeing only pictures, it was finally going to be their place. Dream and George’s place. There would be no more lagging video or Discord crashing on them. If the internet went out, he’d still be in the next room over. He’d still be his.

Well, not his. But he’d be there. George felt the need to explain himself even in his own head.

The sound of Dream’s Discord ringer cut through his thoughts, too loud for his own good. He stretched over to his desk and answered, turning his camera on too.

“Georgie!” Dream said, bouncing with excitement. “Guess what tomorrow is, Georgie.” He leaned forward on his desk, wiggling his eyebrows at George.

George feigned confusion. “I don’t know, Dream. What’s tomorrow?”

Dream pouted. “Are you being serious right now? Do you really not remember?”

“Dream! I’m literally packing right now!”

“I’m litch-rally packing right now!” Dream mocked, impersonating George’s British accent. George stared him down while Dream was folded over laughing.

“It’s not too late for me to change my mind, you know.”

“Actually, it is. Work visas have to be used or you’ll get a fine,” Dream said, chewing loudly on what looked like — popcorn? God, Americans were weird.

“Is that actually true or did you just make that up so I have no choice but to come?”

Dream looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “...Maybe.” George laughed silently, smiling to himself. He would never say it out loud, but he loved Dream. He didn’t know what made him keep it to himself when Dream all but shouted it from the rooftops, but something inside of him felt it was too real to be said. Dream knew it was true, and that was good enough, right?

“Did you want to watch me pack?” George said, folding another one of his shirts and placing it in the box. Dream wasn’t paying attention. He was messing with something on his desk, his tongue sticking out and his eyebrows furrowed so tightly you could barely see his eyes. George loved his eyes, they were a warm pale green color that fit him perfectly. George snapped his fingers at Dream and asked if he was listening.

“Huh? Oh. No. I’m sorry,” Dream looked sheepish, worried. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to, I just zone out sometimes, I’m really sorr—“

“Dream, Dream, calm down. It’s okay,” George smiled. “I’m not mad. Did you want me to ask the question again?”

“Please.”

“I asked if you wanted to watch me pack,” he asked, knowing which answer he hoped for.

“Ooh, can I stay on?” Dream looked giddy as he asked. “I wanna tell you about my new bedwars record.”

“Sounds perfect, Dream.”

---

It took him two more hours to finish packing up his clothes, bathroom necessities, and shoes, spare for the ones he needed on the plane. Dream had talked on and on for the whole two hours, about bedwars and what he was going to make for dinner, and how his mom sent him over homemade banana bread the other day. And even Patches made an appearance after a while.

“Oh my God, Patches! I get to meet Patches! You know Dream, I’m kind of more excited to meet her than I am you.”

“Haha, very funny,” Dream cooed. “Not like Patches will make you dinner or comfort you when you have nightmares.

“Nightmares? I do not have nightmares!” George defended, despite the fact he did definitely have nightmares. And he knew Dream knew that, he’d been the one called at 4 in the morning and the one who talked George back to sleep. It was all part of the game, though, the cat and mouse they had going on. He wondered who was the cat and who was the mouse

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Georgie. Oh, wait,” Dream smirked, laughing his ass off. George gasped and tossed his dirty shirt at his webcam, not minding the fact that it was still on his body and that he was now shirtless in his cold room.

“Hey! I wanna see the view! You look sexy with your hair messed up like that.”

“Haha, very funny,” George fake laughed, though Dream didn’t. He usually laughed after jokes like that. What made this one different? “If I wasn’t so bloody cold right now I’d leave it on there. Make you suffer all alone under there.” He heard Dream whimper, and he didn’t know what it was, but it made his stomach churn. “But, I am very, very freezing right now.”

He pulled the shirt off the webcam, covering his chest with the fabric. “There. You have been freed,” he said, slipping his shirt back on. He swore he saw Dream’s eyes linger on the strip of skin still exposed on his stomach before he pulled it down.

“I’m gonna go make some dinner,” George said, checking the time on his phone. “What, it’s already 9? Jesus. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go make some cereal real quick, stay on the call.”

George put Dream’s volume loud enough that he could hear it decently from across the flat. Meaning, Dream could also hear him burning himself.

“Did you just burn yourself? Aren’t you making cereal?”

“Um…maybe?” he said, shouting over the cold running water. “I may have accidentally left the oven on from when I made salmon last night.”

“Last night?” Dream screamed in horror. “Genuinely, how are you not dead yet?”

“I don’t know!” he said, wincing and drying off his hand before grabbing his bowl of cereal. Well, it wasn’t a bowl, but a large Tupperware container.

“Is that Tupperware?” Dream asked as he sat down at his desk.

“It was the easiest thing to unpack.”

George ate his cereal in silence for a few minutes, drinking down the last bit of the sugary milk before asking “What were you staring at earlier? When you got distracted.”

It took Dream a few seconds, but he finally remembered. “Oh! This!” He pulled out a tiny crossbow made of pencils and shot a rubber band at his camera.

“That’s actually so sick,” George said, staring more intently at his screen to get a closer look. Dream went off on a tangent about it, showing him the mechanics and everything it could shoot. He swore he’d have another one for George by the time he got home. Home. He liked that word coming out of Dream’s mouth. He liked hearing it about himself.

Eventually, it got too late for George to be up anymore. His flight left in 7 hours and he still needed to pack his PC. Dream pouted when he told him he had to go, but perked back up when he remembered the next time he’d see George, he’d be able to hug him! He was all but forcing his body to get tired after that.

“Wake me up if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Georgie,” Dream smiled. This time, he didn't sound teasing. He sounded genuine, more genuine than he’d heard in a long time.

“I… admire you too, Dream.” George’s face went flush and hot, his cheeks blotchy with pink and peach.

“Psh! When are you ever gonna say it back?”

“Never, I thought we’d been over this.”

“Mark my words, Georgie. I will get you to say it back sooner or later.”

Yeah, right.

---

a/n: so! that was the first chapter of Mr. Loverman! i’d love any feedback and opinions y’all have! the next chapter should be up in a few days, and i even have art from one of my lovely twitter mutuals coming! i hope everyone enjoyed! :D feel free to reblog<3

Chapter 2 - Linoleum Ground (date TBD)

#mrloverman #dreamnotfound #dream smp #dream #georgenotfound #sapnap #youtube rpf #dream team #minecraft youtube #mcyt #chaptered fic #chaptered #all fics

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 25

Y/n puts an end to everything.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

⚠️HUGE⚠️ trigger warnings: rape, drugging, sex trafficking, VERY graphic descriptions of violence, physical violence (please let me know if I leave anything out)

Hannibal could walk through a valley of human suffering and not even flinch. You couldn't tell if that made him subhuman or superhuman. You, however, were just human.

You wanted to be a badass. You wanted to kick the door down and make a scene. But one woman was enough to break you.

She was wearing only a large t-shirt. A cloth bandage covered in blood covered her pubic area like a makeshift pair of underpants. She laid limply against a stone. Her arms were punctured where needles had been.

"I don't..." she mumbled, clearly intoxicated beyond function. "...don't make me..."

You knew you couldn't afford to stop. But compassion kept your feet firmly on the ground in front of her.

"What is Chase making you do?"

"I can't-" She said, pressing her forehead against the rock. "I can't be an unwoman-"

She began to slam her head against the rock with clear intent to take her own life. Without thinking, you grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the grass. She sobbed, a bloody, but thankfully, survivable, gash on her forehead.

"Tell me your name." You demanded, squeezing her shoulders.

"...Tiffany." She said with a sudden lucidity.

The name unlocked a memory in you. It was the still image of a sunny young girl, immortalized on a faded missing person's ad hung up at the grocery store. Tiffany Rose Pierce, it read.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Tiffany." You whispered. "I'm gonna get all of you out of here."

"Vanguard won't like that." She said, slipping back into a state of minimal consciousness.

"Stay here." You instructed, pushing yourself back to your feet.

You readied your gun and slowly, carefully pushed the cabin door open. Suddenly, the stained glass window was the least of your worries.

The entire area was lined with cheaply-constructed bunk beds, like an overgrown henhouse. Women with distinctively long hair were shackled to the lower bunks. Their shaven counterparts, the unwomen, were forced to be the slavedrivers. They held the chained women down.

You heard the rattling of chains coming from the right. It was accompanied with screaming and wet slapping.

"Take daddy's cock you filthy fucking broodmare." A familiar voice grunted.

The only way you could look at him was behind the barrel of your gun. He was exactly how you pictured him while listening to his voice in the car. Unremarkable, middle-aged and serpentine.

"Pastor Armitage!" You yelled.

To hear someone call him by his title in the midst of violating a person was enough to send him into a panic. He sputtered and his entire face turned red.

He didn't suffer for long, though. A 12 gauge shell right through the face took care of that. Fragments of his head, his blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. His knees buckled and his limp body collapsed.

The room fell silent. Smoke trickled out of your barrel.

"Where's fucking Chase?" You asked the room.

Someone weakly pointed up the stairs. You met her eyes and nodded.

"Sorry about the mess."

Now you knew how Hannibal felt. Blowing someone's head off made you acutely aware of your own head on your shoulders. You held it higher. You felt no remorse as you ascended the staircase with your gun blazing.

You came across a room with some words etched in the door. 'Skin room'. You launched your foot squarely into the door, causing it to violently swing open.

You examined the room from behind the gun. Chase had done a hell of a job dressing up this cheap cabin bedroom like a hotel suite, but the smell hit you before you could be fooled. A brick chimney, a wine cooler and a mahogany desk were positioned so the eye would gravitate towards the luxury while the nose picked up the brutality. The stained glass window was suspended in front of the real window, absorbing the mid-morning light and giving the room an eerie sepia tint.

You cocked your gun to announce your presence. You heard the sound of running water, and then a side door swung open.

“You’ll forgive me a couple minutes to freshen up.” Chase said, shaking his hands dry. “Cleanliness is close to godliness, after all.”

You said nothing. You didn’t want to dignify him with a conversation.

He bent over and pulled a bottle of wine from his cooler. He placed it squarely on the desk. You looked at it, then did a double take. He grinned sadistically.

“Is that...” You leaned in to get a closer look. “1907 Heidsieck Monople Gout?”

Chase shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the wine expert.”

You’d heard many a conflicting story about the legendary 1907 Heidsieck. Some said as many as 2,000 bottles were pulled up from the depths of the freezing Baltic sea. Some said a single bottle could go for half a million dollars. With that kind of precedent, you never thought you’d ever have to worry about it. Yet, there it was. Right in front of you.

“I’m saving it for a special occasion.” Chase said, suddenly reminding you where you were.

You returned to your gun. “For when you kill me?”

“For when I save you.” Chase smiled, his unnaturally white teeth glistening in the sepia light. “See, Miss [F/N], you survived two of my attempts on your life. God has smiled down on you.”

“Or, maybe,” You interrupted. “You’re just horrible at killing.”

Chase raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"A knife through the hand hurts like a bitch, but it isn't fatal." You shrugged. "And you didn't do a good enough job beating the fear of death out of Catherine. Else she might have actually gone through with it. Maybe if you'd sent Tiffany-"

"God loves you." Chase interrupted before you could poke more holes in his attempts on your life. "Why you're still alive when so many less deserving of death have died is beyond me, but god works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?"

"She sure does." You smirked.

Chase cleared his throat. You'd pegged him as the type to get irrationally angry at the implication of god being a woman, so his reaction surprised you.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" He gestured to a seat across from him.

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think so."

"Pity." He pouted. "Not even for poor Mr. Graham?"

It dawned on you that he probably still thought he had Will, and you could use it to your advantage.

You held your gun at your side and hesitantly sat down in the seat. A gluttonous smile spread across Chase's face.

"So it wasn't wine after all." He said. "It wasn't even your own life. You're only willing to save your soul for the sake of your precious Will Graham."

"What do you care?" You growled through your teeth. "This is just a power grab for you. You wouldn't know what genuine empathy for another person feels like."

He grinned, as if someone had just flipped his 'on' switch. "Jesus does."

"Did Jesus use his influence to lure teenage girls into a sick breeding ring?" You sneered. "I don't remember that from VeggieTales."

"Genesis 1:28." Chase said. "And God blessed them, and God said unto them, be fruitful, and multiply."

"I suppose you also don't eat shellfish or wear mixed fabrics." You rolled your eyes.

"It's always the same arguments from you atheists." Chase scoffed, adding a distinct bite to the last word. "When are you going to show some actual proof that the bible isn't an infallible model for human morality?"

"Maybe when you stop eating shellfish and wearing mixed fabrics." You repeated.

"They are minor sins at best." Chase grimaced. "I have gotten right with Jesus. You, on the other hand, oh, you. Your sins are weighty."

"I did just blast a rapist's head off." You admitted. "And it's going to be two very soon if this one doesn't get to the fucking point."

"I know about your exploits." He squinted. "With Mr. Graham and the man with the Nazi accent."

"He's actually from Lithuania, which, if you wanna be technical," you corrected, just for the sake of being annoying. "Is an ex-Soviet state, but whatever."

Chase tensed up at being corrected. "I know about your hedonistic sexual activities with two men, your exploration. But in the bible, Satan approaches these two people called Adam and Eve..."

"No he didn't." You shook your head. "It was a serpent. The devil wasn't a concept when Genesis was written."

Chase gritted his teeth. "God made one man and one woman. Each to fill each other's sexual desires, within the context of marriage, entirely-"

"But Adam had two spouses, didn't he?" You cocked your head and smiled. "Eve wasn't even the first woman in Adam's life. That was Lilith."

Chase heaved a frustrated sigh. "How do you know that?!"

"I was raised catholic." You said in the tonal equivalent of smacking him upside the head. "I was forced into religion at a young age and brainwashed to hate myself."

"See, that's where we agree." Chase tented his hands, thinking he found a genuine point of connection. "Organized religion is a cancer on society. Christianity is fundamentally about a relationship with god."

You laughed. It was the first real, good laugh you had in a while.

"Don't laugh." He scolded. "I am sorry that that was your experience with religion and that the Catholic church modeled a false teaching of who god is and what he wants. Not all christians-"

You wiped a tear from your eye. "Homie, you killed four people in front of me."

He placed his hand over his heart. "And christ forgave me. And he can forgive you too."

"Alright, this has been fun and everything," you said, standing up. You aimed your shotgun and cocked it. "But, I did come here to kill you, so, open wide."

Chase put his hand squarely over the barrel and pushed it out of the way. "You don’t have the guts to pull the trigger."

You pulled the trigger and blasted his hand clean off. Any hope of reattachment was shattered, as bits of his hand painted the walls and floor.

You opened the gun and let the two empty shells fall to the ground while Chase screamed in agony.

Instead of going through the motions of reloading, you smashed him over the head with the gun. He wrapped his good hand around the barrel and attempted to wrestle it away from you. You took this as an invitation to corner him against the wall with the still-hot barrel against his neck. He smashed his forehead into your nose, sending you tumbling backwards.

The shotgun fell to the ground. You pinched the bridge of your nose to control the blood flow. Chase wrapped a champagne towel around his stump and picked up a small revolver on his desk. He let off a shot, which lodged itself into your shoulder. By the time he let off the second shot, you were on the ground. The third shot didn't fire, just let out a flash and a bang.

"Goddamn blanks!" He cursed.

He tore open a drawer and rummaged around for bullets, giving you a window to come up from behind and gouge your fingers into his eyes. He screamed, dropping a handful of bullets. He flailed aimlessly, then charged backwards, slamming you into the cheap drywall.

He felt around for the bullets without the advent of eyesight. You knew you wouldn't be able to take aim with your shotgun with a bullet lodged in your shoulder, so you dove for the revolver.

Chase grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you down. You hit the floor with a thud, the collision making the bullets jump. Chase grinned, using the sound to place them. He turned around and reached for one, while you scooped up another that had rolled under the desk.

You scrambled to your feet. Chase's hand was just centimeters from the revolver. Thinking fast (but not so thoroughly), you grabbed for the revolver. You wrapped your hand around the barrel, putting yourself at a disadvantage if he fired off another blank.

Chase, however, wasn't that forward-thinking, and opted for a childish game of tug-of-war instead. Knowing he had the brute strength advantage, you waited for him to pull back and released your grip. Chase tumbled, cursing on his way down.

With no thought on your mind but ending this, you launched your foot into his sack, causing him to scream and drop the gun.

Just as you thought it was over, just when the gun was in arm's reach, he kicked your knees backwards and you fell. You swallowed the pain and army crawled for the revolver.

"I don't think so." Chase spat, smiling like a maniac. He grabbed your face with his good hand and his fingers slithered down your throat.

"Choke..." he demanded. "Choke, demoness."

Strengthened by animalistic instinct, you crushed his fingers under your teeth. The sound of snapping bone filled the inside of your head and a sudden rush of blood flooded into your mouth. He withdrew his hand, leaving a finger behind to limply fall down your throat.

You coughed and gagged while Chase screamed. A single bloody digit dislodged itself from your windpipe, flew across the room and landed on the desk.

Chase sputtered something resembling a laugh. "Maybe you're not such a dumb bitch after all."

You grabbed the gun and pushed yourself up with the help of the desk. The finger stared up at you as you loaded the single bullet.

You positioned the finger onto the trigger and guided it with your gloved hand. Then you aimed it at his forehead. Dead by his gun, by his trigger finger. Bleeding on the ground in his private bunker while the empire he built collapses around him. A coward's death. It was poetic enough an end as he deserved.

"You want to say a prayer before you meet god?" You offered.

"My soul is saved." Chase said through ragged breaths. "My place in heaven is secured."

Bang. One bullet, right between the eyes. A bloody fingerprint on the pistol. You dropped the revolver and collapsed. You just laid there, listening to your phone buzz.

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