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dilfgmancoolatta · 3 years

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can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

#freelatta #gordon freeman #hlvrai #tommy coolatta #nhlvrai #gordos feetman #halflife vr but the ai is self aware #I TRIED TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY BUT IT ENDED UP BEING VENTY SORRY

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gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

Seventeen: Welcome to Caratland (End)

Characters: Seventeen x reader (gender neutral)

Genre/warnings: horror/halloween au, choose your own adventure au, horror au, angst, murder, major character death,

Summary: The night before Halloween, you and your 13 friends decide to go explore the infamous abandoned amusement park: Caratland, where it’s rumored that rides start on their own, empty mascot suits are seen walking around, and people don’t return the same as when they left. Can you and your friends survive the night in Caratland?

a/n: realizing halloween is coming up, i’ve decided to FINALLY finish the au i did last halloween. for those who kept up with it: i’m sorry for discontinuing it. there was hardly any interaction with it so i just lost interest and motivation. and the lack of interaction is why i decided to just put all the choices in this part so you can see all the endings and whatnot. i’m sorry it took so long to wrap things up and there will probably be mistakes so i’m sorry about that, but i hope you all still enjoy it. ALSO LMK WHICH PATH/ENDING YOU GET FIRST TIME AROUND!!!

Tag list: @sadienita @xummie @mingoats @xxbluestrifexx @kwanseo @junhaoshua @allegxdly

Previous | Caratland Masterlist

[NOTE: there will probably be mix-ups with paths and endings because i literally just did all of this in 3 days and posted without anyone proof reading it. i will go through everything later to fix and edit things, so please be patient with me!!!]

»»————-　　————-««

16 -- A

“It’s probably best to go back to the breach, right?” you decided. “We know it’s there so it’s the best way to get back.”

“_____ has a point,” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Alright, everyone head back to the hole -- and don’t get split up,” Seungcheol stated before deciding to take the lead.

“Okay, but if I see one of those glorified Chuck E. Cheese mascots coming toward us, I’m leaving all of you behind,” Seungkwan muttered as he followed with the group.

All of you were glancing around trying to keep an eye out for the animatronics, while also trying to quickly and quietly make your way back to the way you’d gotten into the park. You kept mentally kicking yourself for convincing your friends to come here. If it wasn’t for you, you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. You were just lucky everyone was still here...

The gates were starting to come into view, and you felt relief begin to course through you. Your legs were starting to move faster on their own, just wanting to get out of this living nightmare.

Seungcheol shooting his arms out to stop the group was what had you skid to a stop. He whispered loudly for everyone to get down behind the nearby shrubs and two trash bins. The fourteen of you poked your heads around to see what had gotten him to act like this, and your heart sank at what you saw

Serenity was blocking the hole in the fence.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan hissed.

“We’re gonna die here...” Seokmin whispered, but Wonwoo was quick to comfort him.

“What’s the plan now?” Hansol wondered.

“I know it’ll risk us going to jail or something,” Jihoon began, “but I think it’s time we just cave and call someone.”

“No, I’m not going back there!” Seungkwan whispered intensely.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“I’d rather get arrested than get murdered,” Mingyu insisted. “At least we know we’ll be safe and alive in jail.”

You made a face, “Will we, though?”

“Listen,” Hansol interrupted as he pulled out his phone, “I’ll just call my parents -- they’re really chill. And worse case scenario, they just lecture us.”

But as he went to make the call, all his phone did was beep at him like the line was busy. He took the phone away from his ear and looked down, furrowing his eyebrows.

“We had service all night, right?” he asked.

“Yeah...?” Joshua replied.

“Well now I don’t for some reason,” he said, turning his phone screen to show his friends.

Mingyu’s eyes widened, “You’re kidding.”

Then everyone, including you, were taking out their phones and checking for service. Just like Hansol, you had no bars.

Unfortunately, everyone else was in the same boat.

Now, Seokmin was on the verge of tears, “We’re going to die here!”

“Don’t get hysterical yet,” Minghao told him. “There’s gotta be a way out of this. Even if we have to wait around until morning, we can probably out-run these hunks of metal.”

“Y’know, I heard a friend of a friend snuck in here once,” Soonyoung began. “Some dude Changkyun knows. He said there’s apparently some sort of underground exit under the food court.”

“At this point, we’ll have to try anything,” Wonwoo sighed.

“So back to the food court?” Seungcheol practically whined.

You took a deep breath, “Unfortunately, yeah.”

[GO TO: 17 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

16 -- B

“Does anyone even remember where the hole in the fence is?” you asked.

Everyone either gave you blank stares or shook their heads. You let out a sigh.

“Alternate way it is,” Minghao shrugged.

“Let’s just hang here until someone thinks of something,” Seungcheol suggested. “We’re all here, and I think those things are still hanging around wherever we were before. It’ll take a while before we see them again.”

So the fourteen of you hung out at the merry-go-round. Most of you leaned up against the horses or found yourselves sitting down on them. A few of you sat on the two steps of the platform. Chan and Wonwoo were sitting in one of the carriages that most families or parents sat in. All of you were scrolling on your phones or looking at someone else’s phone, trying to research anything about Caratland that might help you find a way out. Maybe a map or a blueprint or something might come up.

Suddenly, the ride jerked. You almost fell over onto Junhui as the ride began turning slowly, the music trying to play but the wiring was too old and worn that it just sounded demonic at best.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jihoon scoffed. “Who turned on the ride?”

The question was overlooked by Mingyu’s shriek. Every head who was on his side of the merry-go-round whipped over to see Bongbong sitting on a horse only a few rows away from the tall boy. But another scream from Seungkwan was what brought attention to the answer to Jihoon’s question.

Eight was standing at the controls of the ride, his never-changing smile on his face as he slowly waved.

“Run!” Joshua called, leaping off of the horse he was sitting sideways on.

“Run where?” Seokmin called as he scrambled to get off the ride and jump the short fence.

“Food court!” Soonyoung shouted as he pumped his legs as fast as they would go. “It’s a long shot...but I have an idea!”

“I’d rather know the idea first!” Jeonghan called after him as the group ran together away from the merry-go-round.

“One of Changkyun’s friends apparently broke in before!” he tried to explain between breaths. “He said there’s an underground exit there! Who knows if it’s legit, but...”

But it was the only plan they had.

[GO TO: 17 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

17 -- A

All of you had to squeeze through the tiny basement windows to get back in after finding the doors to be locked once again.

“How’d those fuckers get out in the first place?” Jeonghan huffed as he landed on the concrete floor of the basement. “The doors have been locked this entire time.”

“We’re being chased by animatronics that haven’t been functioning for years, and they’re out to kill us for some reason, and that’s what you’re going to question?” Soonyoung pointed out.

“Can we focus, please?” Seungcheol whined. “The sooner we find this secret eit, the sooner we’re free.”

“Everyone start searching,” Hansol said, waiving for everyone to scour the basement.

All of you searched every inch you could. The floor, the walls, shelves, behind old cupboards and props -- but there was nothing.

“What if it’s not here?” Chan suggested.

“Yeah? And where else would an underground exit be other than in the basement?” Jeonghan shot back.

The youngest frowned and rolled his eyes, “Soonyoung just said it was underground, he didn’t say under what part of the food court.”

“I mean...Jeonghan has a point,” Seokmin admitted hesitantly. “The basement is underground.”

[TO GO UPSTAIRS TO THE FOOD COURT GO TO: 18 -- A]

[TO CONTINUE SEARCHING THE BASEMENT GO TO: 18 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

18 -- A

“It can’t hurt to check somewhere else,” you spoke up, moving to stand beside Chan. “We’re looked everywhere down here. What if it’s not in the basement? There could be some secret tunnel under a different location and we’re just going to be here wasting our time.”

“I mean...yeah, that makes sense,” Jihoon decided with a shrug. “Alright, we’ll try back upstairs.”

“I don’t wanna go back up there...” Seokmin whined, clinging to the nearest person -- it happened to be Junhui.

“We’re all going,” you reassured him with a soft smile. “Let’s go. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You led the way up the stairs this time, but you found yourself going slow. You strained your ears for any noise on the other side of the basement door but the food court seemed to be quiet. Maybe the animatronics couldn’t get back in since the doors were locked.

You pushed the door open cautiously, poking your head out to glance around. It seemed empty, so you opened the door wider and let everyone else out.

“Is that e--”

SLAM!

All of you jumped back and turned around hearing the basement door slam shut behind the last person out.

“Fuck this, I want out,” Mingyu stated, shaking his head as he began to quickly walk away from the door.

“Hold up,” Wonwoo reached out and grabbed Mingyu’s wrist to keep him with the group. “We should stick together.”

“It probably just closed from the weight of the door anyway,” Minghao figured before going to pull on the door handle.

It didn’t budge.

“Move out of the way, toothpick,” Seungcheol smoothly pushed Minghao out of the way before trying the door himself.

Still nothing.

“D-did it...lock?” Chan asked slowly.

“Haha, would you look at that?” Seungkwan said, checking his wrist that very clearly didn’t have a watch on it. “I actually have to get the fuck out of here. Bye!”

“Maaaaybe,” Hansol grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him back, “don’t do that.”

“Yeah, nobody goes running off, got it?” Jihoon checked, shining his light at everyone to make sure they agreed to the new rule. “Shit’s too weird to be splitting up.”

“I think our best bet would be to hide in the security room until morning,” you spoke up. “It’s probably the safest place in here.”

“_____’s right,” Wonwoo nodded. “Let’s go -- and stick together.”

As a group, all of you made your way to the security room, with you, Jihoon, and Soonyoung leading the way. All of you had your lights, shining them around to make sure the entire area was safe until you made it to the security room and barricaded the door closed.

“Jesus Christ, I hated that,” Mingyu panted as if he had been holding his breath the entire time you were walking.

“I think I almost shit myself,” Soonyoung admitted.

“Imagine your last words being ‘I think I almost shit myself’,” Junhui snorted.

“Hang on, shut the fuck up,” Seungcheol snapped, holding a hand up as he quickly scanned the group in the room. He was trying to count heads while all of you were talking, and as he quickly recounted, his blood turned to ice. “Why are we one short?”

“One short?” Jeonghan asked.

“Someone’s missing,” he said urgently.

“Alright, let’s run attendance real quick,” Jihoon decided, trying to stay level-headed. He pulled out his phone and went to the group chat. “Obviously I’m here. Soonyoung?”

“Here.”

“Seungcheol?”

“Here.”

“Mingyu?”

“Unfortunately here.”

“Hansol?”

“Yup.”

“_____?”

“Here.”

“Joshua?”

Silence.

Jihoon looked up from his phone, repeating, “Josh?”

You and your friends looked around, trying to find Joshua’s face in the crowded room. But nobody spoke up, and the silence following Joshua’s name became deafening.

“Oh fuck...” you breathed, trying to not completely lose your shit. “Did we really lose Josh?”

“We have to go back for him,” Jeonghan insisted.

“What? No!” Seungkwan shouted. “That’s suicide!”

Then everyone was bickering. While everyone of course wanted to hope Joshua was safe, half of the group felt that going back out to look for him would mean all of them would get killed. The other half, on the other hand, were willing to risk their lives to go on a rescue mission.

[TO GO OUT LOOKING FOR JOSHUA GO TO: 19 -- A]

[TO STAY IN THE SECURITY ROOM GO TO: 19 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

18 -- B

“I mean...how would it be under anywhere else?” you asked slowly with a shrug. “No offense, Chan. But like, this is kind of the only basement in the place.”

“See?” Jeonghan sneered.

Chan just frowned and rolled his eyes.

“There’s gotta be something we missed,” Soonyoung said, trying to stay calm. “Let’s just sweep the place over again.”

But after more looking, you still came up with nothing.

“At this point, I’m about to just dig through the boxes of old animatronic parts and just hope there’s a portal at the bottom or something,” Joshua sighed, slumped against a wall with Jeonghan beside him.

“Good luck,” Jeonghan scoffed. “I already tried picking one up to move them away from the wall but they’re super fucking heavy. It’s literally impossible.”

You turned your head to look at the large stack of boxes. There were piles of various sizes, but the ones at the back pressed up against the wall went up the highest. It was a long shot, but behind the boxes was the only place nobody checked because it couldn’t be reached. But with everyone giving up hope, it didn’t hurt to try, right?

“Hey, Gyu,” you spoke up before pointing to the boxes. “Think you can move those?”

Mingyu shrugged, “Yeah, probably.”

He walked over to the wall and began lifting boxes one-by-one. He grunted as he picked them up and moved them away until he called everyone over.

“There’s metal behind here!” he called over his shoulder.

“Ooh, is it the door?” Soonyoung asked excitedly, pushing himself off the floor.

“Told you it was better to look down here,” Jeonghan said once more.

Jihoon groaned, “Can you let it go? Leave Chan alone already.”

Seungcheol started assisting in the box-moving until the metal door was accessible. Seungcheol tried to push it open, but it didn’t budge. He tried harder, but still nothing.

“Can I try?” Mingyu asked.

Seungcheol stepped out of the way, gesturing for the tallest to give it a shot.

Mingyu threw his shoulder into the door a few times before it finally swung open, leading to a narrow corridor that looked like it would bring you straight to Hell.

“Okay,” Soonyoung breathed out, “let’s see if this is the way to freedom.”

[GO TO 20 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

19 -- A

“Why is this an argument?!” you shouted over the bickering. “Our friend could be dead! I don’t care if nobody comes with me, but I’m going to find Josh.”

“I’ll go,” Jeonghan stated.

“Me too,” Hansol volunteered with a slight raise of his hand.

“Plus, I highly doubt an animatronic got him,” Minghao scoffed as he went to join your group as you went to open the door.

“Well...good luck with that,” Seungkwan nodded.

In the end, it was you leading the way, with Jeonghan, Hansol, Minghao, Seokmin, and Seungcheol tagging along -- the latter two clinging to each other as you opened the door and went down the short hallway to the door that read EMPLOYEES ONLY on the other side.

“Why would he split off from the group?” Jeonghan wondered. “If he were trying to prank you guys, he would’ve had me in on it.”

“Maybe he just--”

Your sentence was cut off by a scream -- your own scream. Your eyes saw the scene before you: Joshua’s body laying just in front of the EMPLOYEES ONLY door, a bloodied mess. All you could do was scream.

Standing over him, covered in what you could only assume was your friend’s blood, was Bongbong.

“_____, run!” Minghao shouted, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the door.

He quickly reached for the door and slammed it closed as you and the others ran back down the short hall. Jihoon had poked his head out the door to see what the noise was, and you crashed right into him, hyperventilating as tears welled in your eyes.

God, that image was going to be burned into your brain forever.

“What happened?” he asked.

“J-J-Josh!” you sobbed.

“Those things are in here,” Minghao panted, closing the door to the security room and pressing his back. “Th-they got Josh.”

“You’re fucking with us,” Seungkwan said quietly and very unsurely.

“Would Minghao fuck with you?!” Jeonghan cried. “If you don’t believe us, why don’t you go out there and check for yourself, Kwan? Go get yourself traumatized!”

“Okay, don’t scream at him, it won’t help anything,” Wonwoo spoke up, trying to somehow keep the group put together.

“Let’s just focus on finding a way out,” Seungcheol decided in a shaky voice.

“U-um...guys?” Mingyu spoke up, staring into the monitors.

Everyone gathered over to see what he was looking at.

Each room had a camera and a monitor to go with it. In each room, stood an animatronic. Each camera had an animatronic staring into it, as if they all were staring at the group.

They knew where you were.

“We have to get out of here,” Seomin panted, beginning to hyperventilate. “They’re going to come in here and kill us!”

“I get it’s scary, but we have to stay calm and--”

“Hey!”

Everyone turned their heads a the sudden exclamation. Chan was standing beside a square metal door in the floor with some dusty boxes and wires he’d moved to find it. He smirked, gesturing to the door.

“While you guys were shitting your pants, I found the underground exit,” he stated.

“Well fuck, kid,” Jihoon whistled under his breath.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Soonyoung said as he threw the trapdoor opened and descended the ladder that led to a narrow corridor.

Chan gave Jeonghan a pointed look, “And you thought I was stupid.”

Jeonghan just rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

[GO TO 20 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

19 -- B

You felt like a shitty person for not wanting to risk your life for Joshua. You felt extremely guilty that you didn’t want to go out and look for your friend, but truthfully, you were afraid to die -- and that’s why half your friends didn’t want to go looking for him. Not everyone was brave enough to be a hero, and while you always told yourself you would be when putting yourself into the shoes of horror movie characters, it just wasn’t the truth.

But in the midst of the argument of whether or not to go out to search for Josh -- the argument that you stayed silent for -- Mingyu spoke up in a shaky voice, “U-uh...g-guys?”

Everyone turned toward him to see he was staring into the monitors. You all gathered over to see what he was looking at.

Each room had a camera and a monitor to go with it. However, the monitors had gone fuzzy so you couldn’t see anything in any of the rooms.

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why are the cameras suddenly down?”

You wished they stayed that way after seeing what was displayed next. In each room, stood an animatronic. Each camera had an animatronic staring into it, as if they all were staring at the group.

They knew where you were.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the most disturbing thing.

You could see on one of the monitors, Bongbong was standing in front of the camera holding a familiar body. Joshua was being held up by his neck, and blood was coming out of his mouth, nose, eyes, and even his ears.

You weren’t the only one to let out a scream and flinch away from the camera, hiding your face as you started panicking and crying.

“We have to get out of here,” Seomin panted, beginning to hyperventilate. “They’re going to come in here and kill us!”

“We have to find the fucking exit!” Seungcheol said in a panic. “Everyone go--”

“Hey!”

Everyone turned their heads a the sudden exclamation. Chan was standing beside a square metal door in the floor with some dusty boxes and wires he’d moved to find it. He was just staring at you like he hadn’t just witnessed what all of you did -- and maybe he didn’t because he was too busy searching.

“Way ahead of you,” he stated.

“Thank god,” Jihoon said under his breath.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Soonyoung said as he threw the trapdoor opened and descended the ladder that led to a narrow corridor.

Chan gave Jeonghan a pointed look, “And you thought I was stupid.”

Jeonghan just glared at him, “I’m not in the fucking mood.”

And then he went down the ladder.

[GO TO 20 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

20 -- A

Other than only being wide enough for one person to walk through at a time, it was also very dimly-lit. It definitely looked like something straight out of a horror movie that would 100% lead to the characters’ imminent death.

Needless to say your heart was pounding in your ears.

There was another metal door, but this one was far easier to open. The squeak of it echoed down the corridor as the thirteen of you filed into the room. It seemed to be where they kept the spare mascot suits that actual employees would wear. There were a few of the bodies of the suits hanging up, with heads scattered in corners and on shelves, along with gloves and feet strewn about.

“I hate this,” Jun stated, looking around the room.

“I know these things are empty, but looking into their empty eyes is somehow worse,” Jihoon mumbled, staring at an Eight head.

At the opposite end of the tiny room in the right corner was another metal door. You were starting to wonder how many more metal doors you’d have to encounter in this place.

To the left of the room, there was a tiny wooden door that seemed like it would lead to a crawlspace. You assumed there was just more storage back there, but nobody cared enough to look back there, anyway. The focus was to get out of this place and get to safety.

“C’mon,” you nodded your head toward the other metal door that you assumed would lead to the exit, “let’s keep going.”

As Seungcheol went for the door, you and your friends heard banging. You all paused, Seungcheol’s hand on the handle. You listened for the banging again, and then looked to where it seemed to be coming from.

“Guys?” Joshua’s voice called from behind the small wooden door. “Guys?! Oh my god, guys! C-can you hear me? Hello?! Help me!”

“Josh?” Jeonghan took a step toward the door.

[TO HELP JOSHUA GO TO 21 -- A]

[TO CONTINUE TO THE EXIT GO TO 21 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

21 -- A

“Joshua!” you cried as you ran to the small door.

You knew what your eyes saw, but was it possible none of it was real? How else would you be hearing Joshua’s voice? He must’ve been alive somehow. Anything seemed possible at this point.

You got down on your knees, opened the small door, and crawled your way through. You stood up as your friends tried to get in behind you, but what you saw made your heart fall into your stomach as your hands went to cover your mouth, muffling the loud sob that came out.

Joshua’s body was slumped against the left wall, looking just as you had remembered.

He was still dead.

Your friends had similar reactions to you. Seokmin even threw up.

Seungcheol shook his head slowly, eyes full of tears while some streaked his cheeks, “We... W-we have to bring his body...”

“He’s right,” Jihoon said solemnly -- his body seemed to be shutting down now, almost uncapable of processing his emotions. “We need evidence of what happened tonight. Nobody will believe us otherwise.”

“I-I hate to say it, b-but...it’ll s-slow us down, though,” Wonwoo interjected through his sniffles. “What if we don’t make it out?”

[TO TAKE JOSHUA’S BODY WITH YOU GO TO 22 -- A]

[TO LEAVE WITHOUT JOSHUA’S BODY GO TO 22 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

21 -- B

You quickly reached out and grabbed Jeonghan to keep him from going any closer to that door. He turned to look at you, a pained expression on his face.

“Jeonghan, that’s not Joshua,” you told him. “You saw what happened to him. Whatever it is, it’s not him.”

“I think _____’s right,” Wonwoo nodded. “We need to keep going.”

You kept your hold on Jeonghan as all of your began filing out of the mascot room into another narrow corridor like the other one. This one, though, had a sharp right turn before leading down a while to another steel door.

But this door didn’t budge.

Soonyoung was at the head of the group, and he groaned in frustration as he tugged at the handle over and over again, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me; what’s with these doors?!”

You started to hear a thumping. It slowly got louder and louder...

...Or maybe it was closer and closer.

Junhui walked down the way you’d come and poked his head around the corner, his eyes widening at what he saw. He whipped his head back around and booked it straight back to where your group was trying to open the door, calling, “You might wanna hurry up on that door!”

Coming down the hall were all four animatronics, their eyes lit up as they stomped closer and closer.

“It’s not doing anything!” Soonyoung huffed, trying with all his might to open the door. “Mingyu, get up here!”

Mingyu squeezed between bodies to get to the door, trying to open it as the group just shouted for him to be faster.

“We might have to just...face these things,” Chan said. “Once and for all.”

“Yeah? How?” Wonwoo scoffed. “They’ll crush us in seconds.”

“There’s fou-- thirteen of us, and four of them. We might have a shot.”

“Well hurry up and decide so we can at least put the strongest up against them first,” Junhui called.

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS WHILE MINGYU KEEPS WORKING AT THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- A]

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS TOGETHER GO TO 23 -- B]

[TO KEEP TRYING THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- C]

»»————-　　————-««

22 -- A

“We can’t just leave him here,” you stated. “Not only for the evidence, but because he doesn’t deserve to rot away here. His family doesn’t deserve to wonder what happened to him.”

“I’ll grab him,” Seungcheol offered, swallowing his fears and stepping forward to scoop up his friend. “Let’s get him home.”

Chan was the last into the tiny room, so he turned to go. But the wooden door was suddenly closed and wouldn’t open back up.

“What the hell?!” he grunted as he continued to try the door.

“Why’d you let it close, dumbass?!” Jeonghan demanded.

“I didn’t!” Chan shouted back. “It was just open!”

“Ugh, leave it to the fucking baby to--”

“G-guys?” Seokmin asked.

“Can you get off my fucking case?!” Chan huffed as he stood up and went to stand toe-to-toe with Jeonghan. “You’re always such a fucking asshole to me! Why can’t you--”

“Guys?” Seokmin tried again, looking between the left and right walls.

“Are you two really going to argue right now?” Jihoon groaned. “We’re literally--”

“Guys!” Seokmin finally shouted over everyone. “The walls!”

“What about the--”

Jihoon’s question died down as soon as all of you began looking at the walls. They were moving in toward each other, which would crush all of you between them.

Everyone was suddenly in a panic. Everyone was throwing themselves at the door, trying to tug it open before the walls could do anything. Some of you -- such as you and Wonwoo -- decided to spread out so you had more room. But some -- like Jeonghan and Chan, who grouped up by the door with a few others -- created a big human-lump that would be crushed faster. You heard their cries and pleas before they were crushed to death with a sound you couldn’t get out of your ears.

It was only a moment later you met the same fate.

[GO TO ENDING B]

»»————-　　————-««

22 -- B

"Nobody wants to be the asshole that says it’s better to leave him behind, but...” you trailed off.

Wonwoo was right. Joshua would more than likely slow you down. Besides, you knew Josh would want all of you to have the best chance of getting out alive as possible.

“Th-then you go ahead,” Seokmin spoke up, almost like he was afraid to.

“What?” Jihoon asked.

“I...” Seokmin looked at Joshua as more tears welled in his eyes. “It makes me sad to think he’d just be down here alone. I don’t care if he’s...gone. He can’t just stay down here.”

“I’m not leaving my best friend down here,” Jeonghan agreed.

“Seokmin, he’s--”

“Look, just go,” Hansol interrupted whatever Jihoon was going to say. “I’ll help them with the body. You guys just go on ahead.”

Minus the three who wanted to collect Joshua’s body, the group turned and left the small room and went back to the mascot room. Soonyoung tugged on the metal door and led the way down another corridor that looked exactly the same as the one that had led into the mascot room. This one, though, had a sharp right turn before leading down a while to another steel door.

But as you were walking down the hallway, you heard the yells and screams of your three friends. All of you turned on a dime and ran back toward the mascot room but the metal door was already closed and wouldn’t re-open for some reason. All of you were yelling and trying to open the door until you heard a sickening crunch, and then silence.

You all fell silent. You didn’t know what to do now.

“We--” Jihoon’s voice cracked so he cleared his throat. “We should just...keep going...”

Following behind Jihoon, you all turned one by one and went back down the hallway. You turned the corner and walked down that long hallway toward another metal door.

But this door didn’t budge.

Jihoon groaned in frustration as he tugged at the handle over and over again, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me; what’s with these doors?!”

You started to hear a thumping. It slowly got louder and louder...

...Or maybe it was closer and closer.

Coming down the hall were all four animatronics, their eyes lit up as they stomped closer and closer.

“It’s not doing anything!” Soonyoung huffed, trying with all his might to open the door. “Mingyu, get up here!”

Mingyu squeezed between bodies to get to the door, trying to open it as the group just shouted for him to be faster.

“We might have to just...face these things,” Chan said. “Once and for all.”

“Yeah? How?” Wonwoo scoffed. “They’ll crush us in seconds.”

“There’s fou-- nine of us, and four of them. We might have a shot.”

“Well hurry up and decide so we can at least put the strongest up against them first,” Junhui called.

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS WHILE MINGYU KEEPS WORKING AT THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- A]

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS TOGETHER GO TO 23 -- B]

[TO KEEP TRYING THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- C]

»»————-　　————-««

23 -- A

“Mingyu, keep trying the door!” you called to him. “We’ll try to hold them back.”

“We?!” Seungkwan repeated.

Mingyu continued to try to pull the door open as the animatronics slowly turned the corner and began walking toward the nine of you. You weren’t sure how to prepare yourself for this at all, but you knew you couldn’t just turn your back and die.

But you should’ve known what would happen. Four giant machines up against eight fleshy humans who were nowhere near as strong. Sure, all of you were faster than them, but how could you dodge or run in such a narrow hallway? You were doomed from the start.

Well, not you specifically.

Seungcheol had shoved you to the back toward Mingyu, promising to keep you safe. So your friends all died in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror.

That’s when Bongbong closed in on you.

“I got the--!”

Mingyu’s exclamation of finally getting the door open was cut off by Bongbong’s arm swinging out and clotheslining him into the wall and cutting off his oxygen.

The attack that was meant for you, but you had ducked underneath.

The light flooded into the corridor, and just like that, the animatronics just shut down. The light turned off in their eyes, and they were frozen with their hands reaching out for you.

Except Bongbong’s arm that was now frozen in place, keeping Mingyu strangled against the wall.

You could hear Mingyu gasping for air as you slowly opened your eyes that you’d squeezed shut when you ducked. You looked up and saw the animatronics were lifeless now, and then you shot up and turned to try to help Mingyu. You pulled and pulled on Bongbong’s arm while you had to watch Mingyu slowly die. It was like watching a movie in slow motion, the way his body went limp and the life drained from his eyes. Still, you stood there and sobbed and told him you’d free him as you continued to pull uselessly at the animatronic.

When it finally set in that you didn’t stand a chance, you ran out the back parking lot where the door opened to. You ran out of the park and to your car -- which was still parked near the other 3 that belonged to your friends that were no longer with you -- and drove off toward home with tears still streaming down your face.

The clock on your car radio said 6:08am.

[GO TO ENDING A]

»»————-　　————-««

23 -- B

“The door’s useless!” you cried. “We’re not going to just turn our backs and die. That’s not how I wanna go out.”

Nobody had any faith, but they knew you were right. Laying down and dying after all of this wasn’t worth it. If you died, at least you would die fighting.

But you should’ve known what would happen. Four giant machines up against nine fleshy humans who were nowhere near as strong. Sure, all of you were faster than them, but how could you dodge or run in such a narrow hallway? You were doomed from the start.

Seungcheol had shoved you to the back toward the door that wouldn’t open, promising to keep you safe. So your friends all died in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror.

That’s when Bongbong closed in on you.

[GO TO ENDING B]

»»————-　　————-««

23 -- C

“The door will work!” you swore “Like the basement, remember? Just keep trying!”

Sure, this was different in the way that you had to pull and not push, but it had to give eventually, right?

You continued to face the animatronics that were now starting to close in on all of you. Seungcheol tried to squeeze in besided Mingyu, grabbing the handle and pulling with him. Jihoon crawled between Mingyu’s legs and stood in between the taller boy’s arms, both of his hands wrapped around the handle and tugging with everything he had.

You moved to put yourself in front of your friends. You got all of them into this mess, so you deserved to be the first to die.

As Bongbong closed in on you, you closed your eyes.

“_____--!”

The darkness you saw behind your eyelids suddenly seemed brighter, and you felt a gust of wind from behind you.

There was a couple seconds of silence.

“Holy shit,” Minghao breathed.

You opened one eye just enough to see Bongbong’s face just inches from yours. But...why were the lights in its eyes off?

You opened your eye wider. Then the other one. Its arm was only a hair away from you, but it made no move to actually touch you. There was also light flooding into the corridor from behind you. You whipped your head around to see the door was open, and you looked back at four animatronics. Were they off now?

“Oh my god,” you sighed in a shaky voice, taking a step backward toward the door.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Wonwoo said as he grabbed your hand and all but dragged you out the door.

The door opened to the back of the parking lot. All of you ran as fast as you could toward your cars, only stopping at the hood of the closest one to catch your breath. Seungcheol pulled out his phone.

“It’s 6am,” he reported.

“Maybe that’s why the door didn’t open,” Wonwoo panted, hands on his knees.

“I don’t care to speculate,” Jihoon said as he went to get into one of the four cars. “Take me the fuck home.”

[GO TO ENDING C]

»»————-　　————-««

ENDING A

You weren’t sure what to do about the texts from the group chat when you got home. You swore everyone was dead. You watched them die in front of you.

Soonyoung said he was tripping balls the whole night.

Jeonghan agreed, saying he was sure there was something in the air making them hallucinate.

Even Jihoon was saying something weird had happened that night, because he thought he saw everyone die.

So...maybe they were right?

But when you inevitably went to school Halloween day, something didn’t seem right. Maybe it was because you hadn’t slept all night and you were drained in every sense, or maybe it was because you were convinced all of your friends had died right before your very eyes, but everything felt...off. At least, your friends did. It was their smiles and their voices and their hugs and laughs and promises that everything was fine, but something about it seemed alien to you.

Maybe it was from how emotionally and mentally drained you were, and the fact you didn’t get any sleep, but you swore there was an odd glow to their eyes that wasn’t just the glimmer of the florescents.

And why did Junhui wink at you?

[YOU AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND...OR DID THEY?]

»»————-　　————-««

ENDING B

Get dressed.

Brush your teeth.

Brush your hair.

Go downstairs and converse with your parents.

Drive to school.

Say hello to your friends.

Laugh at what Soonyoung said.

Promise to walk to class with Seokmin and Seungcheol after you go to the bathroom.

Go into the bathroom.

Use the mirror to fix your outfit.

Use your fingers to brush through your hair one more time.

A light reflects off the mirror.

You are the only one in the bathroom.

[NONE OF YOU ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND BUT SOMETHING ELSE DID]

»»————-　　————-««

ENDING C

(NOTE: i know some people might’ve only had josh die while other had more people die. so this part will mention multiple people who didn’t make it home but i will only mention josh by name. sorry if it seems kind of confusing)

You didn’t even want to go back home after everything that happened. But you needed to shower and change, so you dropped your friends off before going home. After getting out of the shower, you checked your phone. Your heart dropped and your stomach was doing flips at what it saw.

One series of texts was from a group chat that was all of the people you were positive made it home from Caratland. All of them were wondering what the fuck was going on.

The other was the original group chat, with a text from Joshua asking if everyone made it home okay. It made a shiver go down your spine. How could he be texting? He died.

Those that had died started having a conversation about hallucinating, insisting something weird must’ve been in the air to make everyone trip and see things that didn’t actually happen. Nobody knew if it was possible. Minghao suggested that at this point, anything was possible. But still, why did all of you have the same hallucination?

The group decided it was best to ignore the message.

When Wonwoo offered to give you a ride to school, you said yes.

The two of you walked to homeroom together and saw the usual group of your friends sitting at the left side of the classroom. But seeing the friends you thought had died now just sitting there like nothing happened made your skin crawl. You wanted to turn around and walk out.

Wonwoo squeezed your hand and continued forward.

You sat and chatted with the group, and everyone seemed to be dancing around the fact that things were...weird. Maybe it was because you hadn’t slept all night and you were drained in every sense, or maybe it was because you were convinced all of your friends had died right before your very eyes, but everything felt...off. At least, your friends did. It was their smiles and their voices and their hugs and laughs and promises that everything was fine, but something about it seemed alien to you.

And why did Joshua wink at you?

[YOU AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND...OR DID THEY?]

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fanfic #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #seventeen text au #seventeen horror au #seventeen halloween au #seventeen aus #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfics #seventeen text aus #seventeen horror aus #seventeen halloween aus

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ethanesimp · 3 years

Text

THE OAK TREE // ZERO E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Just Ethan and Y/N behaving like children, mentions of killing someone (as a joke), swearing.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

TEASER

A/N: This is the first chapter of The Oak Tree! I hope you guys enjoy :) Huge thanks to @night-girl-301 for proofreading this and cheering me on! I was like... scared as shit to post it so yeah.

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you): @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio @ethan-torchio-angelo @unitermoonshine @everythingisdefinitelynotfine

It was only a few minutes past two-thirty when you managed to open the door that led to the greenhouse. The key, more often than not, would get stuck in the lock, and you’d have to spend a few minutes trying to yank it free, but this time around luck seemed to be on your side.

You placed your large black backpack on the stool that was always by the door before closing the entrance again. Mr. Murphy was still watering the plants, completely oblivious to your presence thanks to the loud music coming from the small stereo he kept near the gardening tools. You tapped his shoulder gently not to startle him; it wouldn’t be the first time you’d come into the place unannounced and you didn’t want to be the reason why he had to walk around with a cast on his arm again.

He smiled fondly at you and adjusted his large glasses that were starting to slide down his nose. Mr. Murphy was an old man with long white hair and kind blue eyes, he’d been in charge of the greenhouse at the Oakes Academy for almost twenty years and had been the first person to show you kindness after you first arrived at the place years back.

“I thought I told you to take the afternoon free, Y/N,” He shook his head disapprovingly and you could only shrug. You had to work at the greenhouse at least three hours a week to maintain your scholarship per the Academy’s rules and it’d been long since it stopped being a task and instead became your favorite part of each day.

“We were let out of Philosophy earlier so I thought I’d come by before I go study. Can I help with anything?” The older man sighed but nodded. He adjusted his glasses once again and wiped the dirt from his jeans.

He pointed at the corner where all the pink anthuriums were kept, shielded from direct sunlight, “Please water those, put a bit of fertilizer on the ones that arrived on Wednesday, and if you’ve got time, can you please feed the worms?”

“Sure thing, anything else?”

“Just those three things. I’ve got to go help unload the groceries so please lock up both doors once you’re done,” He asked with a smile on his face as he buttoned his coat and grabbed his walking cane from where he’d dumped it on the floor right next to him. Back when you’d only known him for a few days, you’d always rushed to his side to pick up his cane and help him, but quickly realized it was a thing that annoyed him because of how independent and stubborn he was. “Oh and, before I forget, the kid’s outside. I don't want to come back and see you two trying to tear each other's heads off."

A laugh escaped past your lips and you shook your head as you tilted your head to the side so you could look through the hole in one of the windows. Just like he’d said, the boy with the long hair was sitting outside by the oak tree reading a book. You looked back at Mr. Murphy and shrugged, "No promises."

"I'm serious. You're smart Y/N, and I'm pretty sure you could easily find something you've got in common. That much hatred isn't good for either of you." Those were Mr. Murphy's last words before he walked out of the room.

You stood by the plants for a few minutes as you played around with the headphones that hung around your neck. You’d already sort of been startled by the topic you’d seen during Philosophy that day and you hoped that being at the greenhouse would serve as a little distraction but Mr. Murphy’s words hadn’t helped much.

You huffed and looked around for the hose to water the pretty anthuriums to get your mind off of everything that had gone down that day.

Hours later, you were still unable to shake Mr. Murphy’s words off. It wasn’t the first time he’d insisted on voicing his thoughts against that rivalry you had going on with the person standing between you and your biggest dream coming true. The thing that pissed you off though, was that his words had reminded you of what your best friend, Rory, had told you just the previous night while you did your usual hate rant. According to them, it was a good way to destress yourself.

You scoffed at the thought alone and let your chin rest on your palm as a frown appeared on your forehead. There was not a thing you could name that made you even remotely similar to the person sitting only a few feet away from you at the quiet school library. Ethan Torchio, a.k.a. Your archnemesis, the person you disliked the most in the face of the earth, was biting on the tip of his pencil as he concentrated hard on the thin black book he was holding up. Those dark eyes that shone honey whenever light hit them just right and those long strands of hair that graciously fell down his back accompanied by his signature turtlenecks and pretty smile were enough to make someone’s knees weak, but they only made you gag.

You were sure he felt your eyes bore holes into the dark depths of his soul because it didn’t take long for him to look over his shoulder and meet your stare. Ethan smirked and his eyebrows shot up as he sent you a wink and a small wave. You knew that expression of his, he was teasing you, riling you up, hell, maybe he was trying to intimidate you. As crazy —and maybe a bit pathetic— as it made you sound, a simple smirk wasn’t just that when it came to him, never had been. Those dark eyes of his communicated his devilish intentions to you while he looked like an innocent child who’d never break a plate to anyone else.

You held his stare and mirrored his expression, which made him chuckle softly. It was nothing more than a silly game you’d play with one another to see who’d get tired of it first. The stare-off didn’t last too long that time around because his attention was stolen by one of his friends, Thomas. You simply shrugged and went back annotating on your copy of the black book. It was nothing more than one of those books written for the sole purpose of boring people to death. You loved reading, but when it came to those school-issued books that took around three pages to describe the sky-blue sofas in the main character’s living room, you couldn’t read more than a few pages before wanting to aggressively chuck it out the window.

In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the book that did nothing other than make you feel miserable, you stood up. You walked over to the large window that went from floor to ceiling. To your delight, the curtains were drawn back, which allowed sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark library with its beautiful hues of orange and yellow. The librarian was a grumpy woman that loved when the curtains covered all the windows and blocked any source of light that wasn’t the soft glow of the lamps placed all over the dark room. You were almost convinced this woman had never felt the warmth of the sun against her pale and ashy skin, sometimes you even thought of her as a vampire that’d burn to death if she dared to stand outside for a few minutes.

You looked out the window and admired the green gardens that adorned the front yard of the Academy’s largest building. The Oakes Academy was old and had been around since 1057. However, unlike most ancient schools like this one, the school board hadn’t been too interested in renovating the place outside of simply reinforcing the structure enough to fulfill the basic safety guidelines and the installation of optical fiber wires for a better internet connection. Even then, it was still considered to be one of the most prestigious schools to study at, and if it hadn’t been for the generous scholarship you were offered, you wouldn’t have been able to afford it anyway.

“Still plotting that little plan of yours to end the human race?” You bit down on your bottom lip to stop the colorful curse words from spilling as you turned sideways to look at Ethan. He’d decided to wear one of those annoyingly tight black turtlenecks of his and a pair of plaid trousers that made him look taller than he already was.

“Yes, and I’ll start with you first,” You smiled sarcastically at him, “In fact, I’ll swing by your dorm and murder you in your sleep,” You added while you choked the air for dramatic effect.

Ethan laughed and rolled his eyes. He had that spark of hate in his eyes that was always present when he was talking to you. That look alone told you that all that hatred and disgust you felt towards him was returned in the same magnitude. This rivalry of yours that consisted of dirty looks and constant arguments had been going on since eighth grade and it just seemed to get progressively worse as graduation approached.

Everyone at Oakes knew how much Ethan and you despised each other, it wasn’t a secret. Even the Head Professor had been a witness of plenty of your many petty fights and you didn’t doubt that the people in charge of the Student Welfare department were sick of the many reports you’d filed against each other for breaking the ‘student rules of politeness’. No one remotely important cared much about your reports anyways because they were far from serious and, more often than not, childish.

“How cute. Although I don’t think that’d work too well for you, would it amore? If something were to happen to me they’d know it was you,” He commented. You shrugged and bit your lip in anger at the nickname he knew very well you detested.

You casually leaned against the window, “Meh, it’d be worth it if I knew I wouldn’t have to see your face again. Now please get away before someone starts getting the sick idea that we’re friends.”

Ethan rolled his eyes but backed up a few steps either way, “God forbid someone would think such a horrific thing," He scoffed and raised his hand only to show you his middle finger when he knew the librarian wasn’t looking.

Before either of you could utter out another word, Damiano, one of Ethan’s closest friends, walked up to where you two were standing, effectively ending the conversation between you.

He waved at you and offered you a kind smile, which you immediately returned. Unlike his best friend, Damiano was a delight to be around. He was one of the kindest and nicest people you had ever met. You were quite close thanks to the fact that he’d been dating Rory for a while and you got used to spending long nights with the two of them doing silly things like playing board games or watching films. You were basically their third wheel, but neither of you minded much, if at all.

“Hey, what’s up?” Damiano smacked Ethan on the shoulder as he started a conversation with him. You took it as your chance to leave and just awkwardly walked away after mumbling something about having to find Rory. They had told you something about eating dinner together, and while you’d initially refused because you were supposed to finish the book and start on your report, you were tempted to accept their offer and forget about the stupid book for a little bit more.

Just as you were about to leave the library, your phone vibrated inside the pocket of your warm cardigan. You took it out and chuckled when you read Rory’s message about their new phone but groaned when you realized they wanted to see you after curfew. You sighed and left the library as you tried to think of a great excuse to tell your roommate Emilia so she’d cover for you while you snuck out.

Ethan had his eyes focused on your figure as you left the library but turned back to look at Damiano when he spoke up, “If you’d only talk to them Ethan, I-” He sighed and interrupted his best friend, already irritated by the conversation he’d had with you.

“No, I will not talk to them, okay? Not like we can even talk because we start arguing like two toddlers,” Ethan mumbled out the last part and took a deep breath in. Truth be told, no part of him wanted to talk to you. You were annoying, rude, and didn’t seem to have more than one brain cell in his eyes, so why lose his time talking to you? Not like there’d be anything to talk about.

“They’re just so exasperating!” He spoke up and Damiano rolled his eyes as he saw his hate rant start approaching. They were both aware that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, “I just- They try so hard and it’s annoying. Like I swear they’re also a huge hypocrite. I know you don’t see it but I do, I’ve never met anyone mo-”

Before he could end his last sentence, he felt a body slam into his and arms snake around his waist. Ethan huffed at the impact but wrapped his arms around her frame once he noticed it was Adeline Rossi, or Addie as everyone liked to call her.

She pulled back and looked at both Damiano and Ethan excitedly, “You will never believe this but the craziest thing just happened… Hey, where’s Vic?” She trailed off as she started looking around for her friend.

Ethan chuckled lightly when he saw Thomas quietly approach Addie while she was distracted. They all knew she was the easiest person to scare, so it didn’t take more than a slight push and a soft boo for her green eyes to go wide and for her to jump. She was quick to turn to where Thomas was standing and didn’t think twice before smacking his shoulder with the heavy book she was carrying.

Thomas put his hands up in defeat as he took a step back and rubbed his shoulder, “Okay, okay shit. Stop, that actually hurts,” He whined and Addie only shrugged as Damiano and Ethan watched the whole interaction with amusement.

“Right, so, ignoring all that,” Addie spoke up once again and shifted her attention back to Ethan, “Since she is nowhere to be seen, could you please help me with some stuff? It’s just this little interview for one class of mine and I’ve already interviewed Damià and Thomas but I need just one more.”

He nodded and said a quick goodbye to his two best friends before following the shorter girl out of the library. However, while he was walking, he felt his phone vibrate inside the pocket of his jeans. He fished it out and frowned as he read the text that had just been sent to him but laughed once he noticed it was only his girlfriend Emilia from her new phone.

Then he sighed and rolled his eyes once he realized she wanted to see him past curfew again and he knew Will would ask him for money in exchange for not ratting him out. He quickly texted her back and slipped his phone back into his pocket as he followed Addie to her dorm.

GOOGLE DRIVE

#ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio x you #ethan torchio x y/n #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

The Fight

CW: Ableism against a child, references to attempted noncon/assault of a survivor, religious references to the Bible, conditioning, trauma recovery, trauma response

TIMELINE: Immediately post-Creepy Pet Lib Guy. Links in piece.

She hears his footsteps, the soft motion of him through the living room and into the den, where a single lamp is on in the corner on the side table next to the old couch Paul never could bear to throw out. Ronnie doesn’t look over at him, instead picking at a bit of duct tape affixed over a ripped spot while sipping her beer straight from the bottle.

There’s a show on the television - they have a new one finally, but Ronnie’s never thrown out a damn thing that wasn’t broken just because it got replaced and she’s not about to start now, so she moved it in here - but she’s not watching it. Not even sure what the show is, only that the laugh track is tinny and never seems timed to the moments of actual humor.

The house is mostly silent, this late at night. There’s no sound but the occasional gurgle from the ice machine in the fridge, the soft hum of electronics that she never notices except when the power goes out, and then only because of its sudden absence.

No sound but the television’s off-key laughter and the footsteps of her son, creeping up behind her.

“Mommy?” His voice is so high and soft, fuzzy with sleepiness, and she turns with a tired smile to see him dragging his favorite blanket behind him along the floor. It’s a quilt she bought at a church’s Christmas market when he was two, and it had buttons sewn in with the patches, giving the cats the quilt is decorated with three-dimensional button eyes.

His face is rounded and so like his father’s, even so, his face and eyes and his hair are all Paul’s, through and through. He’s an echo, a clone of his father, in a lot of ways… up to and including navigating a world that has already labeled him as difficult, and he’s only six years old.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing up?” She’s twenty-three with a six year old son, and doesn’t that seem strange, some days? So many of her friends from high school are still out until dawn, posting photos of their drunken shenanigans on Facebook, and here Ronnie sits… twenty-three, with a husband who works nights, and a six-year-old son whose teacher calls him hopeless, right to his fucking face.

“I, I, I had a bad dream,” He says, and his eyes are so, so big in his small round face. Paul’s eyes are like that, big and green and soulful. She’d fallen into them, her junior year, and she’d never wanted to climb back out. No matter that her friends thought he was weird, no matter that yeah, okay, he is weird - he’s her kind of weird, and she and Paul understood each other right from the start.

“Oh, no.” She pats the couch cushion beside her and he clambers almost eagerly up to tuck himself in beside her. Her throat nearly closes as he carefully spreads his blanket out to cover them both, the simple gesture of care and love. How do you look this boy in the eyes and tell him he can’t do something? “What was your bad dream about, do you want to tell me?”

“Monsters,” He says, as if that single word relays all the information she could possibly need. Maybe it does, really - at least the monsters her son dreams about are easier to vanquish than the ones Ronnie has to help him learn how to face on his own as he grows.

“Good thing I monster-proofed this house before we moved in,” Ronnie teases. She moves her arm around his shoulders and he smiles, faintly, eyes closing as he leans his head against her collarbone, his ear right where he’s always wanted it, ever since birth - over her heart. Listening to her heartbeat. Sure enough, his fingers find their way to her stomach and start to tap in time with it, and Ronnie sips her beer again.

“Monsters aren’t, aren’t, aren’t real, actually,” He says, speaking quietly and without opening her eyes, and Ronnie thinks if her six-year-old well, actuallys her one more time… she read all the parenting books and has a whole shelf of parenting memoirs she’s picked up and not a single one mentioned that little kids are fucking know-it-alls. Not one.

“Well, if they’re not real, then why are you buggin’ Mommy at midnight because of dreaming about them, huh?” She keeps her voice light and affectionate, just this side of teasing. Tristan doesn’t react well to any kind of perceived anger or rejection, moping for a day or more around while his brain tries to process that she didn’t stop loving him just because he did something that bothered her. Tris as a toddler broke her heart more than once with terrified insistence that you, you, you don’t even like me anymore after time-outs or discipline.

He’s just being manipulative, her mother had said once, but Ronnie knew better.

He’s three years old, Mom. He’s not trying to manipulate me, he’s scared.

He’s just doing what works, Veronica, you can’t always give in to it.

Mom. He is a little boy. Do you realize how you sound?

Now his teacher is repeating the same tired circular logic that cycles round and round her son without ever seeing him. Ronnie is staring down the barrel of another round of meetings, talking to administrators to try and get around the teacher’s rigidity and hostility, arguing for Tris to get moved into a new class, and all the while he’ll fall further and further behind in his in-class work - while at home he rockets through the homeschooling workbooks she buys, a six-year-old already doing second-grade reading and writing work, first-grade math, obsessed with a kid show about science that they have to watch every single day or he has seriously informed her he might die.

The knowledge is there, and his love of learning hasn’t been throttled by school yet, and Ronnie can’t do anything but try to work within a system that tells her that her son needs to be changed or cured in order to not be kept locked away from everyone else.

Monsters are pretty fucking real, in Ronnie’s experience.

One day her son will have to learn that all the monsters are human beings.

God, she’s so tired of fighting, and so very aware that she’s not going to stop until the whole damn world remakes itself to give space for Tristan, until the world deserves how unreservedly her son loves it.

She takes another drink, then sets the beer bottle carefully down on the coaster - she ordered them last year, and they all have little stylized drawings of the three of them on it, faceless sketches of a man, a woman, a child - man and child red-headed, woman with brown hair.

When she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test, right before Thanksgiving her junior year, she’d thrown up and cried for a week and been sullen and silent at the holiday table, trying to figure out what to do next.

But Paul had never hesitated. When she told him, his response had been to go home to his dad and ask to start working part-time with the Garden, running packages he never looked into, playing lookout outside of bars while the Garden met inside. His first pay - cash handed to him in an envelope - he’d spent some of it on a onesie, a baby blanket, and a stuffed puppy with fur so soft Ronnie could barely stand the fluff.

Then he’d spent some more on ginger chews and ‘Preggo Pops’, lollipops that were supposed to help with Ronnie’s morning sickness, and three books on pregnancy for her and one book on becoming a dad for him.

Paul did what Paul always did - took one look at a cliff he had to cross and simply leapt headfirst and hoped for the best. That impulsiveness that she loved and that had gotten him in so much trouble in life, the enthusiasm that carried her long with it.

There are monsters in the world, Ronnie thinks, running fingers through her son’s fine, soft hair. But there are people who help you fight the monsters, too. Even if the monster is just the stares from other students at school as her stomach grew, the way her friends’ parents stopped letting her come to their houses, the thin-lipped disapproval of the principal handing her a high school diploma as she half-waddled across the stage, refusing to be shamed, engagement ring on her finger. Even if the monster is a world that tries to shove her son into boxes that he can’t fit into, or a teacher who sends him home in tears convinced he’s too stupid to learn anything.

Her jaw sets.

Veronica Higgs has been headstrong since birth, and she’s never made a decision she didn't follow through on. Never turned away from a fight. She’s not about to start now, not when it’s her son.

Ronnie has never turned away from the sweet baby that had looked at her with such dark-eyed seriousness when he was born, the infant who cried for reasons Ronnie couldn't’ fathom, the toddler who screamed that the lights at Target hurt his skin, the little boy who lined up dinosaurs and cars and toy horses in perfect color gradients, the boy who rocks in her arms and hums when he’s happy, the boy she hopes will one day be able to live on his own without her, because…

Because if only Paul and Ronnie are going to fight for him, then they’re going to have to be a fight so fierce that everyone else can’t possibly hold out against them.

The doctors said he might not talk - and he talks a mile-a-minute, about any-fucking-thing that comes into his mind. They said he wouldn’t make friends easily, but he goes on sleepovers with his gymnastics buddies, just went to a party at Chuck E. Cheese with a little preparation so he wasn’t scared of the games and lights and noise when he got there. They said he would struggle in school, and-

Well, he does. But only because of the adults who refuse to understand that Tris learns just fine… if you let him listen in his own way.

“Hey, Tris?” She smiles down at him and he turns those big green eyes up to her. There’s a chapped spot on his lower lip that looks like he might have messed with it until it opened into a sore, and she reminds herself to get some vaseline on it. “You want to stay here with me for a bit? We’ll watch one of your shows, and then back to bed. How’s that sound?”

He smiles at her, and nods a little, still tapping along to her heartbeat. “Oh, oh, okay, Mom. Can, can, can… can-can… can we watch Dino King?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ronnie hates that show, but really - he loves it, and it’s one night, and she could use the way his open, brilliant happiness helps her forget that he’s going to have to work harder and harder to hold onto it as he grows.

She picks up the remote, brings up the menu, switches to a streaming network, and listens to the grating, familiar theme song start to play as her son’s eyes move contentedly to the screen.

He watches the show, but he never takes his head away from her heartbeat.

---

Natalie Yoder has had easier nights than this one, that’s for fucking sure. She leans over the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of her, trying to figure out where they went wrong. This is one of their biggest grants, it’s a bit of funding that she has always relied on, and… denied approval for the upcoming fiscal year.

Thousands of dollars she needs to feed and clothe and house her rescues, gone up in smoke, denied with a bloodless email and no ability to fight back, not for this one. Not this year. It could be a simple error, something she overlooked, sure. Or maybe the association that gives out the grants is suspicious of her story about transitioning homeless people into permanent housing, which really is exactly what she’s doing, isn’t it?

Just… not the kind of homeless people the grant givers are imagining.

She’ll have to call Vince to beg for him to help her fill in the gap, and that will mean time for him to speak with his finance guy and get another couple of shell companies to funnel the money through so it doesn’t go back to him. He’ll give it to her, to be sure - Vince could give her the money to run this place flat out for the rest of his life and still be one of the wealthiest men in America, thanks to his low-key lifestyle and strong work ethic meaning he spends more time filming or producing than he does doing anything else.

Nat knows why Vince doesn’t want to be home, to sit up alone with a bottle or a glass in his hand. She knows his work ethic is simply escaping the demons that will never stop haunting his footsteps, what he traded away for his success, what he lost, what the money and fame can protect him from but can’t remove the stamp of it already written over his soul.

He’s famous, and rich, and Owen Grant can’t touch him now… but the tradeoff of Vince’s survival was that some innocent kid was abducted and turned, through drugs and torture and horrifying assault, into Kauri.

Kauri, who hasn’t answered the phone or sent a text in a week.

Not since that fucking group meeting where Chris was assaulted and Kauri stood up for him. Not since Kauri’s intuition that Kyle had some less-than-savory interest in Chris had proven correct, because… it wasn’t intuition at all.

It was experience.

Nat groans, rubbing her hands over her face, closing her eyes and reminding herself, teeth ground together, to try and stay calm. It’s not unusual for Kauri to disappear for a while, a week or more. It’s not a sign that something is wrong. He was hurt by Nat pushing him, he needs time to think.

He’ll pop right back up again, smiling like nothing happened, like he isn’t giving Nat gray hairs (well, new ones, anyway) trying to tell herself he’ll be okay.

All she can do is trust that he’ll come back when he’s ready.

... and castigate herself for letting that fucking predator get close to Chris without picking up on what he was planning, and for not realizing Kauri wasn’t just being overprotective of a younger rescue, but - in his own way - waving giant red flags that Nat, and Jake, and everyone else just didn’t see.

That, and then losing the grant, have made for one hell of a fucking week.

Nat takes deep breaths. Her hands smell like dish soap and a hint of the roasted garlic she’d put in the soup for supper lingering. The kitchen still smells like the garlic, roasted parsnips and rosemary. Chris had never had parsnips before-

Not that anyone knows if he really hasn’t or not.

“Oh, Nat, you are a mess tonight,” She mutters to herself. “Just full-on moping, huh? That’s how we’re gonna play it?”

Then she hears the soft scrape of a foot on the tile and looks up, blinking, to see Chris in the doorway, leaning against the wood of the frame, the big purple fuzzy blanket she’d gotten him a few weeks back wrapped around his narrow shoulders, the hints of faded muscle that still linger there. Usually he’s draped in Jake’s clothes but tonight he’s only wearing his basketball shorts, no shirt at all.

The rare glimpse of so much of Chris’s skin - she hasn’t seen so much of him since the night he arrived in the pouring rain - tells Nat more than anything else that Chris isn’t okay, either.

“Hey, Chris. What’s up, sweetheart?” Nat glances over at the oven, squinting at the clock, and then groans. “Jesus, it’s nearly 2 am. I lost track of time, I guess.”

Chris doesn’t move from the doorway, not at first. He’s gone quiet again, since the assault, regressing back into periods of stillness and silence that they were so sure he’d gotten past. Jake says he’s testing again, trying to push Jake and Antoni into repeating the patterns that were tortured into his mind as normal, reacting with relief at their rejections - and then testing again, within hours, reminding himself that they’ll never say yes.

Nat looks at him, the shadows under his green eyes, and tries, “Did you have a nightmare?”

He slowly nods, and she watches his hands twist a little into the soft fabric of his blanket, rhythmically twisting to the side and back, nearly invisible with how well he can hide what he does to soothe himself, a skill taught in all the worst ways, learned in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane.

“Hm. I can see that. Was it about the meeting, the other night?”

His eyes dance away from hers, move to the ceiling, and he’s staring upwards at the rough texture up there as he nods, chewing on his lower lip with his top teeth, worrying at a spot that she knows he’ll eventually work to bleeding, sooner or later. He pauses and says, softly, “Kauri… didn’t come find me. That was, was my... my dream. And... it. It hurt.”

His voice, slow drips of speech, hits Nat like a knife to the heart. She nods, slowly, and pushes herself up, chair scraping back across the tile. Chris flinches minutely at the sound, curling a little into himself. “I understand, sweetheart,” She says, softly. “I’m so sorry we didn’t know sooner.”

She thinks, looking at him, of Daniel in the lion’s den, an old Bible story that’s never left her. Daniel trusted God and walked out unscathed, but she’s always thought maybe he wasn’t quite as unscathed as the Bible wants you to think he was.

It’s one thing to have faith that you’ll survive being thrown in with monsters - it’s another to be so inhuman that you don’t wake with nightmares, for months or years after, that you were never saved at all. She is certain, deep down inside of her, that Daniel dreamed of a lion’s teeth and a promise broken, a prayer unheard.

The stories talk about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in a furnace walking out of the flames untouched, but of course the flames had still touched them. Scars aren’t always written openly on your skin.

Of course they dreamed of flames scorching their skin, curling their hair, smoke stealing breath from their lungs. They, like Daniel, must have woken gasping, certain that their faith had been misplaced, that their trust that someone stood between them and the monsters who would destroy them had been betrayed.

They must have breathed, panting, in the middle of the night, and sworn they could still see the smoke in the air, feel the heat against their skin.

They must have needed to come fully awake to remember - and believe - that they had been rescued. They must have needed the reminder.

Chris has no scars from walking with monsters - all his scars are inside his head. Chris’s scars come in his fear that she will not want him, that no one really wants him, when he can’t fight back or say no or defend himself, when he needs someone else to be his defense, to go to war. They come in his insistent, constant testing of Jake, pushing to see if it’s all been a lie, if they only want to use him the way he has been taught he is made to be used.

“Kauri was smarter than any of the rest of us,” Nat says, feeling suddenly exhausted. “We should have listened. I shouldn’t have had to step in. You deserved better.”

Chris deserves a fucking angel to lead him untouched out of the flames.

All he has is Jake - and Nat.

She fills a saucepan with cold milk while he watches her, his eyes on her back a tangible, palpable weight, and pops a lid on, turning the dial until the flames flicker up from the burner to start heating it to a simmer.

“I’m going to have hot chocolate the old fashioned way,” She announces, pulling down a bag with some discs of melting chocolate in it. They cost too much and mostly nobody notices the difference, but tonight… tonight, she thinks the extra effort is worth it. “You want whipped cream on yours, when it’s done?”

“Yes, please,” He whispers, and she looks over at him with a small smile. His hair is mussed still from sleep, a hint of red on his cheek where he must have had it pressed into a pillow. His freckles stand out in the thin light of the kitchen’s overhead light fixture.

Next door, at Miss Ruth’s, a light turns on, and Nat glances through her own window to see it. Jaden, probably - that kid sleeps about as little as Chris does.

“Well, good, because I’m having some, too.” She pauses, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. There’s a long silence that draws out between them. The milk heats, bubbling just the tiniest bit around the edges in the saucepan, and Nat carefully drops in the chocolate discs to melt whisking until the liquid is a rich brown, thickened, ready for her to pour carefully into two mugs and top with the spray-bottle whipped cream she keeps in the fridge.

Nat sets the mugs down on the kitchen table, pulling Chris a chair up right next to hers. He relaxes a little at the tacit, silent request for closeness, drops into his chair with a slight smile playing over his face. He picks up the mug with both hands and takes a sip, getting whipped cream at the end of his nose, wiping it off with a scrunched-up expression that lifts some of the fatigue that dogs Nat’s muscles in the early-morning hours.

“I know the dreams are scary,” Nat says softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his back. He looks over at her, with those giant green eyes in his narrow face, searching for something in her. Maybe just for certainty that the promises she’s made to him will be kept. “But Kauri did come to help you. And you’re safe here, with us. We’ll always come for you, Chris, no matter what.”

He leans over, with slow inevitability, until the top of his head brushes against her neck, his head just at her collarbone. She lets her arm slide around his shoulders, her hand moving to run fingers slowly through his fine, soft coppery hair. “I, I, I forgot how to say no,” He whispers, and presses his head against her.

“I know, honey. But that’s okay, we get back up and try again, right?” Nat sips her own hot chocolate slowly, and Chris holds his cupped warm in his palms, but even as he keeps taking sips, he doesn’t pull away from her. Eventually, he puts the mug back down on the table and shifts a little, so his ear is just over her heart.

“We, we, we try again,” He whispers. “But, but, but I don’t want to, to, to, I don’t-... want to be, um, to be scared again, to… have someone-”

“I know.” Nat swallows, her throat closing, briefly, but she fights it back and keeps her voice - and her hand through his hair - steady as she speaks. “There are going to be bad people out there, Chris, who want to hurt you. But you’re not alone.”

She thinks again of Daniel, waking from nightmares of gnashing teeth, maybe kicking off blankets and pacing a room, his skin written invisibly with the aftermath of a terror that never punctured skin. She thinks of three men in a fire, dreaming again and again that the fourth never arrived to lead them out of the flames.

She thinks of promises made, and kept. Prayers spoken in desperation, and answered, although so often far too late.

She thinks of the prayers for mercy, in the cold white rooms, that are never heard at all.

She’s tired, but she loves them - all of them, who have passed through her doors and gone on to other places - and she can’t imagine being anything but their army, their defense, the wall they can hide behind to rebuild themselves until they fight on their own.

Not on their own, though, never really on their own.

She may never know what happened to him, to bring him here to her doorstep - but she knows that he doesn’t have to face the monsters, the flames, the danger alone. Not anymore.

“You’re safe here,” She says, gently, and turns her head to rest her chin on top of his head. “You’re safe here, and loved, and there’s nothing we won’t do to make sure you’re safe. Whatever comes at you, sweetheart, we’ve got you. And we’ll fight it for you, every time, until you can fight for yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, in a whisper, “Do, do, do you you-you promise?”

“Promise, Chris. Cross my heart and hope-”

“Don’t-... don’t say the, the end of it.” His voice weakens. “Please.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” She tightens the arm around his shoulders a little, and feels him snuggle closer in response, a low sigh of relief at the reassurance in the embrace. “Swear on everything. I’ve got you, and Jake has got you, and we’re not gonna disappear. I don’t-... I don’t know if we can always save the day for you, Chris, but I can promise you that we will always try.”

He hums, eyes closing. One of his hands slides over her stomach, and begins - slight, soft, barely-there - to tap.

It takes Nat a few seconds to realize that he is tapping along to the beat of her heart.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript, @itallcomesdowntopain

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ricksroaches · 3 years

Text

Namjoon - Dysphoria ch. 3

pairing: Yoongi x Reader, OT7 x Reader (platonic)

Summary: As a last resort, Namjoon tells his strict, overbearing father something that isn’t exactly true. He ends up having to find a way to prove his bluff.

Notes: Namjoon is also a junior. Jungkook and Taehyung are sophomores, Jimin, Y/N, and Namjoon are juniors, and Hoseok and Yoongi are seniors. Jin has graduated but still hangs out w them.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: cursing, mentions of drug use, mentions of mental hospitalization

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Perfection.

The Merriam Webster Dictionary defines perfection as: freedom from fault or defect.

Perfection was the standard held over Namjoon’s head since the day he could walk. His dad expected perfection. Not excellence, no. Excellence has the stain of room for error. Perfection was pure, unscathed by failure. Freedom from fault or defect. And he accepted nothing less. He was obsessive. His mom always said that’s where he got it from.

When Namjoon was 13, he stayed up all night binge watching Star Wars. He didn’t mean to, the time just flew by. What he forgot though, was an Algebra unit test he had that day. He snuck a cup of coffee from the pot and felt tip top, but by the time 5th hour came around, he was dying. You know that feeling when your in class dozing in and out and time kinda warps and every time you blink, 10 minutes have gone by? It’s also not easy to think about quadrilaterals and Euclidean triangle proofs while your at it.

He made a C. He never scored less than an A. Ever. He was sure his fate was sealed. The walk home alone had his palms sweating.

Namjoon remembered a lot of screaming that night. At him, his mom, his brother. No one was safe. Even long after they’d been sent to bed, he could hear their shouts, muffled by the walls. Sleep didn’t come to him that night either.

Naturally, he grew to resent his dad, but then strive for his approval at the same time. All that stress festered into rage. The kind that would put the fear of God in anyone. It scared him, and he was smart enough to know he needed to do something about it. Every time he felt that twinge, that compulsive urge to bash someone’s head in, he’d do push-ups. 10 turned to 20, 20 turned to 50, 50 turned to 100.

By 14, he had developed a strict diet and workout schedule. His body fat dropped from 23% to 10%.

He joined the football team by his dads wishes as a freshman and quickly excelled. By sophomore year, he was not only the starting quarterback, but the team captain. His IQ and OCD allowed him to see patterns in the other team’s offense that others were too brain damaged to notice. He was basically the team’s strategist and often took the coach’s job of giving the rundown before games.

He loved to win. He loved the endless cheers and adoration they showered him with. None of that, however, could compare to the feeling of seeing his dad watching in the stands with a proud, contained smile. His dad’s approval wasn’t Namjoon’s driving force. It was the wrath that he’d do anything to be spared from.

Beads of sweat were blown from Namjoon’s forehead as he sprinted around the track surrounding the school football field. His heart hammered in his chest and his legs begged for rest, but he needed to make exactly 7 laps without stopping or he had to start all over again.

He could see the finish line inching closer in the distance and he pumped his legs even harder to go even faster until he sped over the thick white line. With a parting ‘fuck you,’ his muscles went slack and he collapsed into the grass. He couldn’t hear himself think over the all consuming sound of his heart thundering in his ears and him gasping for air.

Once his pulse slowed to a non frightening pace, he pulled the hem of his jersey up to wipe the sweat from his eyes. He laid his arm over his face to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun and let his body sink further into the grass.

He thought he fell asleep, because the light reaching through his eyelids faded, and he couldn’t feel the cancer waves beating down on his arm. Confused, he peeked under his arm-“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

Y/N was standing at his side staring down at him. He didn’t fall asleep, he was just laying in the long shadow she cast. “What the fuck what are you fucking Annabelle?!”

“I called your name like twice.”

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Okay first of all,” she took the sucker she had out of her mouth and pointed it at him “watch it. Second of all, Jimin told me you needed a ride home, so I’m telling your ungrateful ass ahead of time.”

“Why aren’t you in class?” She put the sucker back in her cheek.

“Skip n trip.”

“You’re a dumbass. There’s no way they won’t notice your gone.”

“Joon this school’s budget is $300 and a handful of Chuck E. Cheese’s tokens. Those teachers could give a shit. Besides, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

“What did you take?”

“Shrooms.”

“What are you gonna do until I get out?”

“Dunno. I might rescue a cat from a tree, might steal the Constitution. You never know.”

“Okay well I need to shower before next period so,” Before he could finish she offered him her hand. He took it and she heaved him up a lot easier than he’d expected for a 5’4 druggie.

“Thanks. Now begone, demon.” With the small shove he gave her arm, she turned and meandered to the front of campus.

~~~

Namjoon’s stomach fluttered when his 7th period teacher started talking about what they were going to do tomorrow. A key sign of the end of class nearing. He watched the clock make its way around and around until finally, the bell rang.

He came down the brick front steps of the main hall, eyes sweeping for Y/N’s car. Nothing. With an annoyed huff, he made his way to the parking lot. “Why can’t you use the carpool like a human?”

He was nearing the back of the parking lot when the 1993 Corolla e100 came into view. Its dusty blue paint job and modifications courtesy of Yoongi and his father’s garage that he worked at. A pair of converse hung out the passenger window. When he got closer he saw Y/N laid across the front seat, plastic sunglasses balanced on her nose, hands folded behind her head.

He wrenched the door open making her feet flop to the seat hard enough to wake her with a choked snore. He swatted the bottom of her feet so she’d move. He sunk into the passenger seat and watched her hastily rub her eyes trying to wake up, glasses now perched in her hair. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why the hell were you asleep when you were supposed to pick me up.” She rested her forehead on the steering wheel.

“Sorry. Shroom come downs make me hella sleepy.”

“Do you want me to drive?”

“Nah, just hand me a Monster. I keep some in the pocket behind your seat.” He gave her a concerned look but reached around and pulled a lime green can from the pocket. She shifted the car in reverse and cut the turn to exit the parking lot, opening the can in her hand with her teeth in the process.

“I could’ve gotten that for you.”

“And not look badass? I think not.”

“That wasn’t badass.”

“Sure it wasn’t.”

~~~

Y/N wanted burritos and Namjoon was getting hungry so they stopped by La Michoacana, their favorite Mexican place, and ate them on the hood of her car.

By the time she pulled in his driveway, the sun was beginning to sink below the trees and buildings. He grabbed his backpack and sports bag from the trunk and walked around to her window, leaning his forearm on the edge and bending to be eye-level. “Thanks for the ride. My dad's home so don’t floor it out of here okay?”

“No problemo brochacho.” She gave him an OK sign before pulling her shades back down and driving off with two small growls of her engine.

His family was already having dinner when he came through the door. “Joon honey, is that you?”

“Yeah mom!” Who else would it be?

“Come eat dinner will you?”

“It’s fine I already ate-”

“Come sit with your family.” His neck hairs prickled at the sound of his dad's voice. He knew better than to keep him waiting. He dropped his bags by the coat rack and made his way to the dining room. He took his seat across from his older brother, Geongmin. “Care to tell us why you were late coming home?” His dad, at the head of the table, finally spoke.

“I was just getting something to eat with my friend who gave me a ride home.” His dad took in his answer before giving a dismissive nod and returning to his plate. Another wave of silence carried the table for another few minutes before his mom spoke up.

“So, Mrs Kwon told me today that her daughter Somin is still looking for someone. Why don’t you give her a call?”

“What? Mom, no. Why?”

“Aw come on sweetie it could be fun you never know. You need at least one highschool relationship before you graduate.”

The truth was, he’d actually had a few relationships in the past. He just never let them find out about it.

“Listen to your mother, she’s right. If you want to understand women enough to marry one, you better start learning now.”

“But…I just can’t.” His dad's gaze zeroed in on him.

“And why is that?” The words came out before he had time to rethink his idea.

“Because I already have a girlfriend.” His mom dropped her fork. Geongmin let out a snort and choked on his iced tea.

“What?” She placed a hand on her chest. His dad didn’t seem too mad. Yet. He set his silverware down neatly and folded his hands in front of his mouth.

“Who is it?” Oohhhhh shit. Now everyone was staring at him, waiting for an answer. Okay Namjoon, just say a female name. Any name, just say something.

“Y/N.” FUCK!

“Y/N? Y/N who?” His mom jumped in.

“L/N.” SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU IDIOT!

“Hmmm…. I've never heard of her.”

“You wouldn’t have.” He turned back to his dad who was still eyeing him. He could tell something wasn’t right, only making Namjoon’s thighs sweat more against the seat.

“I want to meet her.”

FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK! NAMJOON YOU STUPID ASS MOTHERFUCKER WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?

“Okay.”

Fuck a duck.

~~~

Y/N took a thoughtful hit of her joint. “So you're telling me…that I have to go to dinner with you…to meet your parents…because you said you had a girlfriend?”

“Yes.” The pair were sitting on the school roof during lunch. Her usual hiding spot.

“You know,” she blew out the wispy cloud, “for a genius, you’re really fuckin stupid.”

“Please Y/N they’re trying to get me to date this girl I used to go to preschool with. We hate each other!”

“Woah woah chill my guy. I never said I wouldn’t.” His eyes lit up and she held her joint above her head to avoid it being crushed by Namjoon’s hug.

“Thank you so much I mean it! I owe you big time.”

“All you have to do now is ask Yoongi.” She had to hold in her laugh when she felt his body stiffen, and ever so slightly take his hands off her.

“Oh…right.”

~~~

“Hey, Yoongs.” Y/N tapped one of the boots jutting out from underneath one of the various cars in the garage. The raven haired boy rolled out from under the car, laying on one of those rolly things. He looked up at her with streaks of motor oil and sweat on his face. His eyes lit up when he recognized the lame stance and shaggy hair that was his person.

“Hey, N/N.” In one swift motion, he was on his feet, wiping his hands on the red rag that was tucked in his waistband. He noticed Namjoon standing behind. “Sup. What are you guys doing here?”

“You see…about that.” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck.

“Come on Joon, spit it out.” She shoved him forward.

“Fuck’s wrong with him?” Yoongi pointed at him with his thumb.

“He has to ask you something.”

“Well on with it I have a job to do.”

“IneedtotakeY/NtodinnerwithmyparentscauseIsaidshewasmygirlfriendtogetoutofthemsettingmeupwithsomeone.” Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut and braced for his reaction.

“I don’t think that was a question, but okay.” His eyes popped open.

“Wait, really??”

“Yeah. If she’s willing to clean up your mess that’s all I care about.”

“I told you he’d say yes.” She bumped his arm with her elbow with a smirk. The wave of relief washed over him like jumping in a pool on a hot summer day.

“There are rules that come with that.”

“State your terms.”

“No touching below her waist, no pet names, no staring, and have her home before 10. You’re also allowed exactly one kiss if things get sticky.”

“Deal.”

“So when is it?” Yoongi listened to Namjoon explaining their plans while Y/N took his rag and started wiping the grease off his cheeks, nose, and forehead. Namjoon watched him sit still while she practically climbed all over him like a jungle gym. His patience with her was simply astounding.

By the time she finished and tucked the rag back in his waistband, Namjoon got a call. It only lasted a few seconds before he hung up. “That was my dad. I gotta get home.”

“Ight. That means me too. Bye Yoongs.” She spun around and followed Namjoon to the car.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She turned around. Yoongi held his hand up and made a ‘come here’ motion with his index finger.

“Oh shit!” She came bounding back and threw herself on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her chin and planted a kiss on her lips. He made eye contact with Namjoon over her shoulder and gestured around her figure clinging to his body, dramatically mouthing ‘mine.’ Namjoon chuckled and climbed in the passenger side and waited for the lovebirds to finish their visit.

~~~

Y/N had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel when there was a knock at her door. She padded to the door and opened it. “Jimin! You learned to use the door!”

He rolled his eyes and stepped in.

“I was told I’m needed for assistance.” She swung open her bedroom door and they entered.

“Yeah, I need your help picking an outfit that won’t get Namjoon killed.”

“Hmm. I see.” He put his finger to his lip and eyed her closet. “Are they religious?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Old school or progressive?”

“Pretty old school I think.”

“Underlying misogyny?”

“What? Fuc- Jimin I don’t know.” He simply eyed her hair, face, and body, nodding.

“Okay, I think I have an idea.”

“And what is thAH!” Her towel was ripped off and he began rifling through her drawers. “JIMIN!”

“Oh please, nothing I haven’t seen before. Let's see…” He tossed a plain bra and a pair of underwear over his shoulder to her.

“Something comfortable, since you won’t be getting lucky tonight.” He moved to her closet nonchalantly while she scrambled to clothe herself. He pulled out an armload of clothes and tossed them on the bed. It was funny how he seemed to know her closet better than she did.

After countless trial and error, he finally decided on an outfit. A white, one shoulder long sleeved bodysuit with a black velvet pencil skirt.

Next was hair. “Jesus what am I gonna do with all this?” He held locks of her curls in each hand. It ended up not being as big of a problem as he thought. A nice bun with a few curls hanging out suited the look well. It was messy, but not too messy, and made her look put together.

Last was makeup. He opted for nude shades on her lids, minimal foundation and contour and a soft peach lip gloss. “In case they’re secretly Amish, I don’t want them thinking you're some whore.” She chuckled, his light hearted nature broke through her nerves. He pulled her in front of the mirror and admired his work. “You look stunning.” She couldn’t help the bashful smile that she hid behind her hands. Suddenly he gasped. “SHOES!” He raced to the closet and looked through her meager collection. He settled on a pair of white block heels, the white strap across her toes complimenting their fresh white pedicure. She slipped them on and he repositioned her in front of the mirror. “Now,” he slid his hands down her arms and rested his chin on her shoulder, “you look perfect.”

Her phone buzzed on the bed, interrupting the sweet moment.

Joon🦒: I’m almost there.

“Okay he’s almost here, do I look like a good girlfriend?”

“The best.” With a smile and a peck on his cheek, she slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. She opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of Hydroxyzine. Namjoon had asked her to refrain from being stoned at dinner, since she tended to say some crazy shit when she was. Granted, he didn’t say sober, just not fucked up. Shaking out three capsules, she eyed them before tossing them into her mouth.

Namjoon’s grey BMW M4 pulled into the driveway, it’s headlights pouring through the front kitchen window. Y/N and Jimin shot up in unison. He grabbed her by the shoulders and faced her. “I know you're probably freaking out right now, but just remember, you got this. There’s no way you can fuck up so bad they never want him to see you again.”

“Way to put that in my head.” He just smirked and opened the door for her.

“Go get ‘em tiger.” He landed a playful swat on her ass, sending her out the door for him to close behind her. No going back now. She made her way down the front steps and Namjoon got out wearing a matching charcoal grey suit and met her on the passenger side. He opened the door for her and held her hand for support until she was settled before shutting it gently. His car was spotless. Yoongi took great care of his car but even he had maybe a jacket laying in the backseat. It looked like he just rolled out of the dealership.

He climbed in the drivers side and pulled out of the driveway. “Was that Jimin?”

“Haha yeah. He helped me get ready.”

“How is he gonna get home if you don’t get back ‘til 10?”

“Hobi’s on his way to pick him up. Apparently they’re gonna drop and watch scary movies.”

“Hobi? Watching horror movies. You're kidding.”

“I've done it with him a few times, it’s quite entertaining.”

“I’m sure it is.”

~~~

It wasn’t a long drive to the restaurant they were meant to meet his parents at. It was a restaurant she’d never heard of, and probably would never be able to afford. He offered her his arm which she gladly took and they entered.

She was immediately hit with the smell of olive oil and fresh bread. Italian music floated over the light din of patrons dining on luxury dishes. Namjoon leaned down and whispered, “I didn’t think they’d pick such a nice place.” A hostess carrying an arm full of menus approached them.

“Mr. Kim?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Right this way please.” Y/N almost couldn’t keep up in her heels with the swift steps the hostess made. She remembered why she never wore them.

The woman led them past table after table, until they reached another smaller room, lit with candles and a crystal chandelier. It was quieter than the front, but still filled with the light chatter of diners sipping million dollar champagne. Okay, she knew Namjoon was wealthy, but this? God damn. She might as well be meeting the President.

They eventually stopped at a table with a couple already sitting. His parents. She put on her best face and gave a polite bow when they stood to greet her. “안녕하세요 당신을 만나서 매우 기쁘게 생각합니다” She looked back up to see them both frozen in surprise. His mom looked to Namjoon.

“You never told us she could speak Korean.”

“주금” Y/N held her index finger and thumb close together with a humble smile. This was good. She’s off to a good start. Once they exchanged pleasantries, they all sat down. A waitress came by for their drink orders. His parents ordered wine and they both ordered sparkling water.

“So, Y/N, how did you get to know our son?” His mom was the first to speak. She was clearly the more excited one. His dad looked like he was at an interrogation.

“We met at a pep rally sophomore year, and I noticed he kept visiting the art room where I worked after school, so when junior year came around I just risked it and asked him out.” His mom melted over the story she made up on the fly. God bless her wicked creativity. It wasn’t until he met his dad's eye that his smile tapered. Although it wasn't noticeable to anyone else, it was obvious to Namjoon. His dad wasn’t happy. Allowing himself to wait around to be asked out by a girl? Disgraceful.

Y/N basically lied about everything she was asked. Where she lived, who her parents were, plans for the future. Somehow the conversation shifted to religion.

“Are you religious, Y/N?” His dad asked. She definitely feared talking to him the most, given the few rants Namjoon went on in the past.

“I was raised Catholic, mass on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, the whole deal, but nowadays we hardly have time to go.”

“Were you confirmed?”

“No sir.”

“Why not?”

“We…” Her mind froze. She couldn’t get past the memories of that age. Cold metal bed frames and IVs, stringless hoodies and slip on shoes. “We moved and by the time we found a church to join, my parents were too busy with new work to take me to the classes. So it never really happened.”

“Aw, well that’s a shame.” His mom remarked. And the conversation moved on.

Y/N barely remembered the rest of dinner. Her mind still stuck in the padded rooms. Eventually, the last of dessert was finished and it was finally time to go. She briefly excused herself to use the restroom. She was feeling pretty good while she washed her hands. She said all the right things, they didn’t seem annoyed or too judgmental. She pushed the door open and nearly ran into Namjoon’s dad on the way to the mens’ room.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s alright. Listen, I’ve actually been meaning to tell you something.”

“Okay?”

“You and my son seem to have a strong bond. I can tell he likes you a lot. But just between us, I know you lied to me.” Her heart dropped into her stomach. “I know you don’t live uptown, I know you don’t live with your parents. I know where you actually live.”

“W-what?” She was frozen in place as he stepped closer. “I understand you may be embarrassed of your financial standing and I’m proud of Namjoon for accepting you for who you are. But I’ll tell you one thing.” He leaned in her ear. “You will never be good enough for my son.” With that, he turned and vanished into the restroom.

All Y/N could do was plod back to the table where Namjoon and his mom were standing. “Joonie? Would it be okay if we went now? I’m starting to get cramps.”

“Oh no please. Namjoon, take the poor girl home.” Best. Excuse. Ever. Works every time.

Once they were inside the car, she let out the breath she’d been holding. Had she been holding it the entire time? It felt like it.

“Ohhhh shit.”

“Dear god what now.”

“Don’t look now but my parents are staring at us from inside. I don’t think my mom believes us.”

“Why?”

“She’s talking about how I wasn’t affectionate enough.”

“How do you know that?”

“I've seen countless of their conversations, I don’t need to hear to know what they’re talking about.”

“Nuclear option?”

“Going nuclear.” With that he leaned across the console and cupped her cheek, melding his lips to hers. It wasn’t as bad as she expected it to be. She thought it’d be rigid and awkward, but he had a way of making them feel comfortable. They parted and he shifted back into his seat.

“Did it work?”

“My mom is jumping up and down. I think it worked.”

He started up the car and pulled out onto the road to her apartment. “What you said about cramps, was that true?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t dare tell him the real reason. Knowing Namjoon she knew that would only turn out one way. He reached over and popped open the glove box in front of her. Inside were tampons, pads, makeup wipes, muscle relaxers, and more lined up in neat rows. She gladly took one of the pills. “How you don’t have a girlfriend yet I’ll never know.” Namjoon may be a compulsive hothead, but at least he knows how to treat a lady.

“Hey, N/N?”

“Yup.”

“Are you actually Catholic?”

“Yeah. All of it was true except for the moving part.”

“Did you, you know, believe in it? In God?”

“I mean it’s kinda like Santa. Your parents tell you he’s real and you’re too naïve to think for yourself so you believe. To answer your question, yes, I used to at least.”

“What happened?”

Hospital gowns, bed restraints, pills in little paper cups.

“….I pretty much lost faith in anything I couldn’t see the moment I was admitted to that place. Shit like that kinda breaks down your character.”

“Are there still times where you think you might still believe?”

“What are you, Jehovah's witness?”

“I’m just curious. You’re the last person I’d expect to be religious.”

“Rarely. I only turn to a higher power when I think there’s nothing left between me and death. When I’m so sure that my life is coming to an end that the only thing I can think to do is pray that heaven is real.”

“H-how many times has that happened?”

“Three times.”

“Oh.”

“Namjoon, promise me something. If one day you see me with my rosary, I need you to throw me in a mental ward and burn all of my religious shit. The whole box I keep in my closet. All of it.”

“I…I promise.”

~~~

The Beemer pulled into her driveway and he helped her out of the car, heels in hand. She took the shoes from him and he gave her a warm hug. “Thank you.”

“No problemo brochacho.” He mocked a scoff and pushed her away.

“Ruined it.” He circled around and climbed back into the driver's seat. Y/N made her way up the steps and turned around. She gave him a wave and he waved back from behind the windshield. With a chuckle, she went inside.

She was met by Yoongi and Taehyung sitting cross legged at her kitchen table. “And just where have you been all this time, young lady?”

“Yoongi, why is it here?” Tae sipped from the mug he carried daintily in one hand.

“Heard Yoongi whored you out. I tagged along to watch the drama.” She chuckled.

“There isn’t any. Go home Tae.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can. We were gonna hang out tomorrow anyway.” Yoongi fished his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to the fluffy haired pervert. “Leave even a scratch and I’ll skin you. Make sure you lock the garage cause if someone jacks it then I’m really gonna come for you.” Taehyung gave him an exaggerated salute and a boxy grin before he bounded out the door and to the car like Tigger. Yoongi shut the door behind him and spun to face her. “What’s wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play that game with me, you know it never works.” She let out a long sigh and flopped onto the couch. The cushion dipped beside her when Yoongi sat down. She instinctively laid her head in his lap. He began plucking out the bobby pins holding her wild hair in place. “So how did it go?”

“It was fine at first. I pretty much had to lie about everything so they wouldn’t think I’m some gold digger.” He loosened the hair tie, finally setting her locks free. His fingers rubbed her scalp to ease the tension from the tight hairstyle.

“That’s obviously not the problem. You have no shame lying.” She giggled.

“It was pretty much fine halfway through, then for some reason they started asking if I was religious.” His veiny fingers mindlessly scratched her head, nearly sending her to sleep. “His dad asked if I went through confirmation, but it just reminded me of other stuff.”

“The hospital?”

“…yeah.”

“What about the other half?”

“I couldn’t really focus after that so I’m sure my conversation wasn’t the best.”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I was pretty much in a different place after that.” He tucked a piece of hair that was hanging in her eyes behind her ear. “After dinner, I went to the bathroom and ran into his dad on the way out.” Yoongi stilled.

“Relax, he didn’t diddle me or anything.”

“What did he do?”

“He knew I lied about where I lived. Luckily he still believed we were actually together, cause then he told me that I would never be good enough for his son.” The head scratches halted all together. “It’s really not that big of a deal, it’s not like it matters. We’re not even dating.”

“Y/N look at me.” He met those e/c eyes and made sure he had her full attention. “You don’t actually believe that do you?”

“Believe what?”

“That you're not good enough.”

“I mean….no?”

“That didn’t sound very certain.” She turned her head back so her temple rested on his thigh.

“I mean I haven’t exactly been the gold standard in my lifetime.”

“You don’t have to be. Name someone you think is perfect. I’m talking not a single flaw inside or out.”

“….”

“So, why do you think you have to be?” She was quiet. He didn’t need her to answer, he just wanted to plant the thought in her mind. The softest sniffle could be heard. “Hey, come here.” He laid longways and guided her on top of him. She pressed her ear to his heart and he cupped the back of her head in his hand. He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You might not be good enough for him, but you're too good for me.”

“I think I can live with that.” He could feel the small smile grow against his chest.

After a half assed shower, Yoongi tucked them both in bed. Once again her head was on his chest. “Did you tell Joon?”

“No.”

“Good.

“Although we did get kinda deep on the way home.”

“Like what.”

“My religious awakenings.”

“Oh, you really went balls deep didn’t you?” Her head bobbed when he chuckled.

“Ha, yeah. Speaking of which, there’s something I forgot to mention earlier.”

“Oh boy.”

“When we were leaving, his parents were starting to get suspicious because the entire night he didn’t touch me once.”

“I don’t see the problem here.”

“So he had to kiss me in the car where they could see.”

“…”

“Hey you can’t get mad you said he could.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” He gently rolled her off him and he peeled the covers back. “Where are you going?”

“Hold on, I gotta piss.” She just laughed and watched him lumber out of the room in his t-shirt and boxers.

When he came back, she was sitting up with her knees hugged to her chest. “So what were you thinking about?”

“Was it good?”

“Was what good?”

“The kiss.” She thought for a second.

“I’m gonna be honest, it was unexpectedly pleasant, but you have nothing to worry about.” He came to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Why’s that?” She stood and bounced to the end of the mattress. She grabbed both his shoulders and looked down at him.

“Why would I cheat when I already have the best sex I’ve ever had?” He gave her a long, cool look.

“Until now.” He grabbed the backs of her knees and swept her onto her back with a surprised yelp. He crawled onto the mattress and attacked her with a barrage of kisses anywhere he could reach. It was going to be a long night.

#bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts angst #namjoon #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic

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thingismyson · 2 years

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Fun AU facts with Aaliyah Thingismyson/Demon64! Bc brainrot!

-All the cat androids have retractable nails to symbolize claws. This has an actual purpose, as off stage their nails are used to open boxes or pop balloons once they’ve been there for far too long, and while around kids they’re not meant to be out. Oldey got his nails filed down after his incident for obvious reasons.

-Yenndo made Elizabeth/Baby look at the blueprints for the funtimes to show her that they have murder tools in them and that starts her joker arc

-Flumpty and Golden are just 12-year-old eldritch horrors and no one notices.

-Greg FNaTI’s parents are the nightguard and phone guy from Five Nights at Chuck E Cheese’s, he often tells the SSA members about his one dad’s experience with the suit as his “supernatural experience”, I feel like this somehow correlates to Henry vanishing because if I heard that story I’d go missing too.

-Shadow Bonnie (Charcoal) and Shadow Rachel (Raven) are twins since they’re made from the same dead kid, just reflecting guilt of different people.

-Fredbear’s Diner reopening and Candy’s Burgers and Fries opening around the same time and thus Oldey had the biggest beef with Springbonnie and Fredbear (it was very onesided since Oldey was an android and the diner performers were just robots with *some* basic personality traits). When Fredbear’s shut down for good Oldey was ESTATIC and then realized WHY and was never the same

-Markus (TNaR guard and Bonnie Mask Bully) could’ve been apart of the afton family by marriage if he played his cards right but after he accidentally helped kill a kid he dropped Micheal and now he’s dating a robot

-Rat’s nephew and grandnephew are the people who run the FNaC 4 building and they have good intentions but also god damn. You guys replaced your uncle/granduncle.

-As androids were made more human like and were given more jobs + personality, companies started putting tags in the insides of their clothing, these tags state they’re androids and only serve to allow corporate to locate their androids if they’re out on the town during show hours. This was added in the late 80′s so the lines including and after the toys have tags

#fangamesau

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karihighman · 4 years

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Moms Night Out 🍻

Hailey & Stella are at Molly’s, bonding over their idiot husbands & chaotic kids. (Based on a Twitter prompt.)

“Wait you can’t be serious?” Stella asked as she passed Hailey her first beer.

“Oh no, I am!” Hailey told her, getting some of the foam off the top. “Completely serious. I come home one day and the house is fucking disaster, Jay’s like ducked under a pillow, and our two twins are barreling down the hallway screaming at the top of their lungs. I guess they were quote-un-quote sword fighting and Jay was the big scary dragon they were supposed to slay.”

Stella held back a laugh. “And?” She asked, brows and drink raised in tandem.

“And what?” Hailey questioned.

“Well, did they slay Jay or what?!”

“Oh,” Hailey grinned. “Hell yeah they did!”

“How’d they get so hyped up anyhow?”

Hailey gave Stella a deadpan look. “Have you met Jay? The man can’t say no to anything Cooper and Cici ask. They’re like, his kryptonite or something.”

Stella set her beer down. “Soooooo, sugar high?”

Hailey mumbled an “Mhmm,” as she took a long drink. “So, how ‘bout you and Kelly?”

Kidd didn’t hold back a laugh this time. “Oh Jesus. When aren’t we dealing with craziness. I swear, it’s like I ask him to do one fucking thing and he manages to not only not do it, but to have done something else instead!”

Upton motioned for her to elaborate.

“Oh, so we were taking Brian over to daycare right? And Kelly just ups and drives through the McDonalds lunch rush because Brian begs him for “nugs.””

“Nugs?” Hailey asked, her brows knitting together.

“Nuggets. Y’know, chicken nuggets?”

“Oh, got it. Okay, so? That’s not bad!”

“It is when we’ve already been late 2 times the same week dropping Bri off at daycare! I don’t wanna look like the slacker parent cause my dumbass husband is controlled by a 3 year old.”

Hailey bit her lip to keep from completely losing it. She could just picture Stella and Kelly, minding their own business when Brian makes those big puppy dog eyes and BAM! Chaos ensues.

It’s what happens with Jay all the time. Hailey says the twins can’t have ice cream until they do some spelling or practice their handwriting? She’ll come back to chocolate covered handprints not only on the kitchen counter, but all over their homework too.

But then of course Jay gives her that look, the one she’s been melting over for years, and she’s a goner. Typical. Course who could blame her? She has a hot husband. A hot sergeant husband, she might add.

“Helllooooooo? Earth to Hailey?” Stella tried, waving her hand in front of the blonde’s face.

“Hm? What? Oh, sorry.” Hailey said. “Just daydreaming.”

Stella scoffed, pouring out another round for each of them. “Uh huh. Anyway....”

“What?” Hailey asked, noting Stella’s knowing tone.

“Well, have you and Jay even had a date night since the twins came along?”

Hailey buried her head in her hands. “Oh hell, do not make me tell the story of Octoberfest 2021, Stell. I can’t do it.”

Kidd was a quarter into her beer when she perked up. “Oh no, you’re telling it.”

“Fine.”

Stella leaned on her elbows so she could listen as Hailey settled in. “So, I get Jay to agree to go to the festival with me. He says he’s got it allllll figured out, right? Babysitters would get there at 8, we’d be back by 11-11:30 tops.”

“Okay, sounding good so far...”

“Well, come to find out the original babysitters of his brother Will and girlfriend Natalie are going to the festivities too! Therefore, Jay, in all his infinite wisdom, dialed up Adam to help out last minute.”

“Oh hell.”

“Yeah. Adam’s a great friend, but a horrible babysitter. You think it was crazy when Jay was there? That was — and pardon the pun — child’s play.”

“Oh come on, Hail. I’m sure it wasn’t all bad. Besides, he and Kim are attached at the hip aren’t they?”

“Usually, Yeah. But no, not that night. Kim was out and about with Kevin, Vinessa, and Jordan.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. So Ruzek’s alone with our kids and I get a call from Adam at — ready for it — 9:30 and he asks me where I keep the towels. Turns out, he let the kids “make dinner” which meant, flour and dough everywhere, pizza sauce on the fucking ceiling, cheese in I don’t even know where and—“

“Okay, okay, I get it. So Adam’s no pizza man,” Stella observed.

Hailey downed a lot more of her beer before continuing. “So then I of course pull Jay away and he’s just like, oh but they love their uncle Adam!” And im over here thinking of course they do but I don’t love him when they turn the house upside down!”

“Hailey, you’re such a mom,” Stella joked.

“Well, I made Jay go home and help Adam clean up the kitchen, meanwhile I had to wrangle the twins into pajamas and properly feed them.”

“Could be worse,” Stella offered. “One time Brian convinced Kelly that there was a mouse living in his toolkit.”

Hailey paused. “Was there?”

“Yeah, a fake one!” Stella grinned. “He’d put it there as a prank but oh man, I’d never seen Kelly so pale!” She laughed out loud at the memory. “Then Kelly told him about how to pull an even better prank. So then lo and behold, I find a “snake” in the shower and almost trip and kill myself.”

Hailey giggled. “Oh god—” she couldn’t finish her sentence because she burst out into another giggle fit. “I’m sorry, but that’s too funny!”

“He made it up to me though,” Stella winked, and Hailey smirked.

“Yeah, Jay’s had to do some groveling too...”

“Don’t you mean begging?” Stella pushed, wagging her eyebrows.

Hailey shrugged, leaving it open ended, because, as luck would have it, in come their dumbass husbands now.

“Hey,” Kelly says first, nodding at Hailey before leaning over the bar to kiss Stella.

“Hi babe,” Hailey says as Jay walks over to her. He wrapped his arms around her, sort of hugging her.

“So, where’re our kids, guys?” Stella asked as she pulled away from Severide.

“Yeah, so, about that....” Jay began, running a hand over the back of his neck. Kelly stood over near him looking just as sheepish.

“They may have wanted to go to Chuck-E-Cheese. We may have taken them.” Severide told the ladies.

“We? As in you and him, right?” Kidd asked.

“Well....” Jay began, his sentence cut short by a pair of bustling legs and high pitched squeals coming down the way.

“Momma! Momma! Look! Uncle Adam bought us milkshakes and and we won a big bear!!”

Cooper and Cici pointed towards Adam, who, of course strolled into Molly’s with the hugest teddy bear Hailey had ever seen.

“Well, actually I won the bear,” Jay defended, looking at Hailey with the rest of his sentence — ‘for you’ unspoken.

“I managed the high score at ski ball,” Kelly chimed in. Stella gave him a nod, patting his shoulder. What he didn’t see was she mouthed over to Hailey ‘sure he did.’

“You sure the kids had fun?” Stella asked, clearly amused.

“Not as much as us,” Adam said, earning eye rolls from the ladies and embarrassed looks from the menchild spouses.

Stella and Hailey grinned at each other. Yeah, some things never change.

#one chicago #chicago pd #chicago fire #fanfiction #fanfiction prompt #hailey upton #stella kidd #stellaride #upstead #stella and hailey friendship #future fic #if they had kids

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Pink and Totalitarianism Always Go Hand in Hand

Here’s the promised crack fic. Disclaimer, this is terrible in every and any form, because it is meant to be that way. If you want quality, structure, a story that makes sense, this ain’t it chief. This is certified Crack. If you finish this and all you can say is something along the lines of “what the fuck”, my work here is done. (Besides, this isn’t edited to add to the overall crack vibe)

Enjoy and good luck, because it get worse and worse as it goes

Masterlist in bio // pinned post

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 4626

Warnings: Mention of drugs, light non-graphic violence, language

Summary: You’re stuck in a world that does not make sense, alone and surrounded by secret police and spies that will report you to the government. One early morning, Jason appears in your living room. His arrival gives you an opportunity to get the hell out of there for good.

You had taken a habit of sleeping lightly.

You, who had once cherished your sleep like it was the rarest gem in the world. Yet, you found out you had still severely underappreciated its importance in your life, something you realized only when it was gone. You missed it like an old friend who was gone to war and died on the front, leaving words forever unsaid. What would you do for just one more night in your bed, with your own pillows and that drool stain that just wouldn’t leave anymore, sleeping like a log until the late morning. Or just a nap, that even would be enough. But you were far from home now, and you didn’t have a lot of hope you’d ever come back.

When you heard a loud thump in the living room, your eyes flew open and your muscles tensed. Pushing off the pink comforter and pulling on the equally pink robe that was draped over the wooden chair, you carefully made your way down the corridor and toward the sound. A man dressed in black and red, with a red helmet complementing his strange outfit was standing there, looking around like he was trying to understand what was going on. You plastered a smile on your face.

“Hiya there” The corner of your mouth hurt from the strain of smiling so wide. “Can I help you?”

“Uh?” He looked up, and even through his helmet you could assume his eyes were wide with confusion. They wouldn’t get you this time, you’d make sure of it. He didn’t fool anyone. “Where am I?”

“Silly!” You laughed, waving your hand in a small dismissive gesture. “We’re in Happy Town, obviously!”

“Uh?” He repeated, already visibly exhausted. That one agent lasted longer than the last, you had to give him that. His confusion was credible and well played down to the last detail. “Listen, lady, I’m sorry I crashed your house but I need you to point me toward Metropolis”

“Metropolis? I haven’t heard of a city of that name” You didn’t drop the smile. The goddamn smile. “Although, you are quite illegal sir, black and red are prohibited colors”

“... What?”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to change” You explained. “Luckily for you, I have spares in the bedroom. Come along”

“Wait, prohibited?” He repeated, and you nodded eagerly. A test, it’s always a test. “What colors aren’t prohibited then?”

“Well, pink, you silly goose!”

He stared at you for the longest time. “What the fuck”

You froze. Actual agents were not allowed to swear, under any circumstances. They were physically not able to, even. “What did you say?”

“I said what the fuck”

You let your smile drop and sighed in relief. “Oh thank fuck”

“Hey, stay with me” He waved a hand in your face. “What the fuck is going on? Where am I?”

“Okay, we don’t have a lot of time, but basically” You paused, looking around to make sure all of your curtains were closed. You found a way to disable your microphones, but you had only to sunrise before they turned back on again. It was less suspicious that way, when you could attribute the lack of sound to you sleeping. Besides, you couldn’t risk you saying incriminating things in your sleep. “We are in a side dimension called Happy Town, but things are sketchy here. I don’t know what they are hiding, but if you don’t stick to their gimmick to the letter, you’re going to reeducation camps and stuff. This is some serious brainwashing, and I’m talking worse than Scientology”

“Fuck” He swore, taking off his helmet. “How did I get here?”

“Some portal, I dropped in the same place you did” You spoke quickly, in a hushed tone. “I haven’t found a way out, obviously, but if you came from Earth too, I’m betting there’s something I missed”

“This is insane”

“You tell me” You scoffed. “And you haven’t even seen how bonkers this place really is yet”

“Do I really have to wear pink?” He flinched, and your eyes widened.

“Yes, you do!” You replied. “They will have you under scrutinization as soon as you step out of this house. If you want to survive, you must follow the rules to the letter. They don’t fuck around, I tell ya. When I first appeared, all the neighbors moved away and were immediately replaced by other creepier neighbors. I swear they’re spies. They’re all spies!”

“Wait, how long have you been there?”

“I don’t know, years?” You guessed. Could have been any measure of time really, you couldn’t know for sure. “I have no idea how I got through their brainwashing sessions. Either I outsmarted them, or they have no idea what they’re doing. It’s better not to take any chance, though”

“This is fucked up” He sighed and sat on the couch. “Besides wearing pink, what do I have to do?”

“Oh boy, sit tight” You began pacing in front of him. You didn’t know him, but he was your best chance at getting the hell out of here. Your bed now seemed a little bit closer now, even though you knew you’d never sleep the same. “It’s not just the clothing that’s pink, it’s any fabric, by the way, because happy people like pink”

It was like he was now aware that every couch, chair, carpet, curtain in your house was actually pink.

“You gotta smile, always. You gotta look like chuck-e-cheese on crack” You continued, pacing in front of him. “Talking of which, never, EVER eat pie. I don’t know what’s in it, but it messes with your brain. Always find an excuse or distraction to avoid eating it”

“I’m not--”

“Never allude to the microphones you might find, act like you’ve never seen them and have no idea they’re there” You added. “Also, tomorrow we’ll have to get you registered if we don’t want the secret police to storm the house. You’ll have to follow my lead or we’re both dead, got it?”

“Yeah but--”

“Don’t say anything incriminating during the day” You interrupted him again. “I tweaked the microphones so they’re scrambled from midnight to sunrise. But that’s it. Also, always assume anyone you talk to is a spy or a snitch. It’s the Stasi all over again here, you can’t trust anyone who you don’t hear swear, which is nobody”

“Wai wait” He stopped you as you opened your mouth to continue on. “Why?”

“Because the people from here cannot swear, happy people don’t swear, they smile and giggle” You felt your eye twitch as you recited the lines you were fed over and over again. “The people engineered here are not able to, only those they kidnapped from Earth. Bad news is, beside that, they are virtually non-differentiable from each other. And they all wear those stupid pink clothes, only the regular police wears a darked shade of magenta. Other than that, all the same”

Confusion and horror was evident on his face. He sat there, processing it all as your eyes fell on the clock. You had about ten minutes until the first rays of sun showed up and reactivated the mics. “There’s no way back?” He finally asked.

“Not that I know of yet” You wrapped your hands around yourself. “You know, I have been begging for help out of this hell hole. You might be the key. Anyway, we gotta change you into something non offensive before they find out you’re here”

You dragged him in the bedroom, leaving him at the threshold while you rummaged through the dresser. All those clothes had been there too when you popped in the house, as if they had known exactly what they were doing by bringing you here. However, it wasn’t clear whether or not they had planned for their new citizen to be you. Ad judging by the arsenal of weapons on the new guy, ir reinforced your theory that the actual selection was still experimental. You weren’t exactly the shut up and obey type, and you doubted he was either.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you pulled a pink cardigan out of a drawer. It occured to you that you might have to know what to call him. Polite people knew the name of their housemate. You grabbed a yet again pink pair of slacks and pushed the clothes in his hands.

“Uh, Jason” He replied, surprised at the sudden income of pink fabric. You threw him the socks, suspenders, bow tie, belt and dress shirt that was, you guessed it, the exact same color as the rest. He was covered in pink clothes like a coat hanger.

“(Y/N)”

“Hey, I’m not wearing that” He objected as he took a better look at the clothes. His face turned to disdain as he shook his head like he had drank bad milk. “Nope, no way”

“If you don’t wear pink, they’ll kill you” You said through your teeth.

“No, I’m not talking about the pink” He said, his expression unchanging. He pulled the cardigan and held it up. “This. This won’t do at all. I’m not wearing a fucking cardigan”

You stared at him, wide eyed. You didn’t have the time to deal with that, sunrise was a few minutes away!

“You will wear that cardigan or so help me” You said in a low, yet threatening voice. He recoiled. “Suck. It. Up.”

Wordlessly, he headed for the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. He changed in two minutes, coming back awkwardly with his pile of dark clothes. You picked them from him and walked to that spot just beside your bed, and kneeled. You unscrewed the floor board, which was already loose, and you deposited the bundle, weapons and all, next to a very, very dusty blue jeans and burgundy coat. You hurried to replace everything like it hadn’t been touched and stood up again to face an all pink, visibly uncomfortable Jason. He was tying his bow, a displeased frown on his face. It made you wonder what was his life before. He changed rather quickly, and didn’t seem confused by the way bow ties worked.

“What now?”

“We gel your hair”

“No” His eyes widened. The wake up siren sounded outside, and like a reflex learned through violent lessons, your face pulled into a pained smile. You still made a zipping motion over your mouth, pointing to the bathroom. With a silent sigh, he complied.

---

His smile looked unnatural.

But again, so did yours probably. So did everyone’s. Smiling that much wasn’t natural for anyone or anything but perhaps a hyena. Or a clown. You walked arms in arms with him, waving at people sending you curious glances, their smiles unwavering. The government was already aware of this presence, either because they zapped him there or because they heard your made up meeting conversation through the microphones.

“Okay, I see what you meant by everyone is a spy” He muttered through his teeth, making sure his lips weren’t moving. He was holding to his grin like it was a lifeline. And it was.

“Right?” You replied in the same manner. “So don’t slip”

“I won’t”

“Well hello there!”

You jumped in surprise at the Mayor appearing in front of you, seemingly out of nowhere. You put your free hand on your heart and laughed. “Hi there, you startled me good!”

He laughed. Jason laughed. It all seemed forced.

“I see we have an addition in Happy Town!” The mayor pointed to Jason, nodding in approval at his attire. “Where did you come from?”

His first test.

“I… Came from Earth!” He replied with enthusiasm. “Although I have to say, I looooove this place. It’s so… Happy!”

Well played, Jason. Well played.

“I am so glad to hear you say that” He placed a “friendly” pat on his shoulder, but he seemed satisfied. “What is your name, lad?”

“Dick Grayson, sir”

You swallowed back your confusion at his words, but also at the hint of genuine smile that crossed his expression. Keep smiling.

“Well Mr. Grayson, welcome to Happy Town!” They shook hands. “I see Miss (Y/N) is already taking care of you, integrating you nicely in our community”

His gaze shifted to you as a silent warning behind those cold, smiling eyes. You had your fair history of problems with them, but they had every reason to think it was over now. Still, the warning lingered. But those pink assholes wouldn’t catch you this time.

“I’ll make sure he becomes one of us in no time!” You assured, giving a light nod to Jason.

“No doubt you’ll make an amazing couple” He tipped his pink hat and you noticed Jason held back a cough of surprise. “The daily play of the anthem is about to start, I must return to city hall. I’ll see you around!”

He waved. You waved. Jason waved. He walked away with a skip in his step like the happy jerk he was.

“Couple?” He said, coming back to your public mode of communicating.

“Sorry, I should have warned you” You sighed internally.

“Sorry?”

“Yeah!” You wanted to burst out so bad. “What about it, Dick Grayson?”

“I wasn’t about to give them my real name” He defended, watching around for people noticing your hushed conversation. But everybody was preparing for the anthem, their attention directed to the morning messages man on the giant screens.

“So you gave that poor guy’s instead?”

“Poor? Nah. Relax, he can take care of himself” What you were sure was a chuckle escaped his lips. “Besides, he’s not even--”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for our national anthem”

You elbowed Jason and stood up straight, the sun hitting the side of your face. He mimicked your posture. The music started, and you could see faltering in the corner of your eye.

“Is this--”

“Yes”

“What the fuck”

“I know”

“Whyyyyyyy”

“Stay with me” You urged silently. You really didn’t know how or why Happy Town’s anthem came to be ‘Yeah!’ by Usher feat Lil Jon and Ludacris, but even if you did, now was not the ideal time or place to get into that kind of discussion. You suspected it had something to do with the exclamation mark after the ‘yeah’. But you could be wrong. You still didn’t understand the bigger picture however, since the lyrics clearly contained the word ‘not’ followed directly by ‘happy’ in the first verse, which made ‘not happy’. It was against the party line.

“Okay, we stage a coup tonight” He decided as the song ended. “I don’t think I can do this another day”

----

Midnight came slowly.

After a day of mingling and presenting Jason as Dick Grayson and your future husband like the Mayor had most probably hinted at during your morning encounter, of slyly getting out of eating pie and avoiding the police, you were glad to finally breathe.

“UUUUGH” Jason whined, plopping on the couch. “I can never look at the color pink the same way ever again. I’m sick of it, sick of it!”

“Get it together!” You snapped. “We need to plan our coup. We’ve got one shot for it, and if it fails we’re toast. I need my bed, Jason. MY BED”

“Alright, what do you have in mind?” He asked, taking a deep breath. “You know this place more than I do”

“I say tomorrow night, we quietly follow the police after their curfew patrol round” You began, biting the skin around your nails. “How good is your stealth?”

He looked at you blankly for a good ten seconds before he let out a small, ironic snort. “Above average, I’d say”

It was like he wanted you to ask why he’d think that, but you were too busy thinking about your plan. “Good, good” You nodded. “There must be some headquarters somewhere. All we have to do is get there, threaten them at gunpoint--Your guns are functional yes?”

“Obviously”

“--So they’ll zap us back to Earth. And if not, we shoot the mayor and take control of this hell”

“That escalated quickly,” He stated. “But what the hell, sure, I’m on board. Let’s go”

“Tomorrow the sun sets at 8:07. We’ll need to be changed and ready to go by then”

“Wait, tomorrow?” He sprung up in his seat, eyes wide. “No, no. I can’t take one more day of pink cardigans and pleasant conversations with spies!”

“DEAL WITH IT” You gestured wildly before calming down almost instantly. You didn’t need the neighbors to hear and report a fight. “Patrol is already over for today. Be smart about this”

“Fine” He sighed aggressively. “But if this flops, I’m taking everyone down with me. There won’t be an after tomorrow, I can fucking tell you”

“Yeah I won’t stop you”

“Good”

“Good.”

You stayed there in silence, unmoving for a moment. This was it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. Your liberation. Your bed was less than 24 hours a day if things went as planned, which you hoped it would.

“I’ll… Sleep on the couch” He mumbled after a while, moving to lay down. YOur eyes widened.

“You can’t” You objected, knowing the government would find a way to find out the scam you were running through that detail.

“Why not?”

“If the secret police comes for a surprise inspection and your side of the bed is cold, we’re kaputt” You explained. “We’re supposed to be at the very least fiancés, remember?”

“God fucking dammit” He swore, looking up at the sky like it would help him. Ha, you already tried that and it didn’t work.

---

The next day, as you prepared the decaf pot of coffee because happy people didn’t need caffeine to be happy, a knock sounded on your door. Jason was taking a shower in the bathroom, so you went and opened the door. Like you had predicted, two men in dark magenta stood at your doorstep with dangerous looking smiles.

“Good morning ma’am” One greeted with a tip of his hat. “This is a surprise inspection, warranted by the new arrivant in your household, name Dick Grayson and title husband to be. May we come in?”

Your smile widened as you stepped aside, like you actually had a choice in the matter.

“Of course!” You exclaimed. “Coffee, officers?”

“We’ll have to politely decline, thank you” The other smiled as they came in and observed the clean state of the house. All houses were required to be neat and clean at all times. They looked around for something out of place, slowly but surely directing themselves to the bedroom at the end of the hall. You followed them a few paces away, ready to answer their question if they had some. It wasn’t your first surprise check.

They finally reached the room, from where they could hear the shower running. Their gazes caught the neatly folded pink pile on the bed, then they surrounded it. They started to feel under the comforter and drapes, on the pillows, everywhere they could spot the presence or absence of another person. You called it, oh you so called it.

The shower stopped, and both officers shared a look. “Alright, everything is in order ma’am. Have a good breakfast and a good day!”

You escorted them to the door, threw them a thank you on the way and silently sighed once the door closed behind them. You returned to your coffee, and not long after, Jason emerged from the hallway all dressed in pink.

“Ooh, who were the gentlemen here?” He inquired cheerily, but you knew what it meant.

“Some nice officers came to see if we were doing fine here!” You replied with equal cheer.

“Shucks, I missed them” He snapped his fingers, chuckling. “Next time perhaps”

“Of course!” The pep in your voice did not match your eye roll. Thank god there were no cameras.

You finished breakfast and went to town once again, like you did everyday. You felt like everyone was staring at you even more than usual. Like they all knew what you planned for that night. You might have been slightly paranoid, but Jason’s calm demeanor was helping. He was good at that, like he had practiced for all of his life to deceive people.

The mayor bothered you again after the daily play of the anthem, a song you were sure would elicit a violent reaction from you once you would be back in the real world. Then, you repeated the same daily routine you had had forever. Smile, avoid the pie, smile, talk with the neighbors-spies, smile, think about how life is amazing, smile.

Smile smile smile smile smile smile.

Eurgh.

That night, the pleasant conversations contained codes to trump the microphones. Jason pretended to dance while you unscrewed the loose floorboard and carefully placed his clothes and weapons on the bed. You picked your old clothes, quietly dusting them off. They smelled weird but you were excited to wear something other than pepto bismol dyed fabric. Making sure the curtains were drawn, you proceeded to change. Jason looked ecstatic to finally be rid of his cardigan, while you took a moment to appreciate your black t-shirt and burgundy coat. While he had his red helmet, he handed you a domino mask from his pocket. You had no idea why he had that, but you took it anyway. It looked cool and rebel. You sneaked through the back door, avoiding the spots of light by either lamps outside your house and street posts. You watched the patrol casually making sure everyone was inside, keeping a good distance in between you and them at every time. They weren’t talking, but whistling some creepy tunes. You had to make a small hike through a hill when they entered a gated tunnel, but you ended up in front of a giant factory where workers dressed in grey buzzed around with crates. YOu gasped.

“Illegal” You muttered.

“What?”

You shook your head. They had gotten to you too much, it was time you left that god forsaken place. “Nevermind. How do we go through that barbed wire?”

He pulled out a medium sized pair of cutters from… You had no idea where, but he had them. You shrugged, gesturing to him to go ahead. In a blink, you were in. You sneaked inside without being seen, navigating the building with guesses and feelings. You finally ended up in the main production room, where crates of products were opened and emptied in a giant bassin. The stirred liquid was purple and smelled strange, but you knew it was to do no good. And right beside, there was the pie filling packaging.

“I knew it!” You hissed under your breath. “They’re putting drugs in the pie! Can you see what it is? Cocaine? Heroin?

“Doesn’t seem like…” He leaned in. “Wait…”

“Al-- Allegra?” You managed to read the crate.”Never heard of it, but it must be terrible and dangerous”

Jason turned his head and stared at you. HIs helmet bore no expression, but you were sure he looked at you like you were dumb. Did he know what it was? “Are you kidding me?”

“No, why?”

“Allegra is--” He sighed. “It’s allergy medication. It’s… Not drugs per say”

“Uh?”

“God dammit--” He paused as something caught his eyes. It was sparkly, and unfit for this environment. From it emerged five armed guys dressed in earth clothes. They had a bag of white substance, which was tasted by the man who welcomed them. “Of fuck, THAT’s cocaine”

You waited as they put some of it in a vial, which already had purple liquid.

“Fuck, they mix it with allegra?” He cursed, mostly to himself. “What kind of fucking insane dimension did I step in?”

“I told you”

“Okay, so those guys will have to leave eventually” Jason pointed at the visibly Earth humans. “We’ll make sure we catch it as well”

“But they have machine guns” You pointed out, not sure how his mind worked.

“Wait for my signal” You knew he was grinning under that helmet. Before you could ask him how the fuck he would manage five armed guys, he jumped over the rail and started running toward them. You shut your eyes shut as gunshots went off, then opened them again when it was silent. There were bodies around, but Jason was still standing, wrestling with two guys. You watched for a few seconds when you noticed a pink figure sneakily approaching from behind, a frying pan in his hand.

The mayor!

You jumped over the rail too, but your landing was way less graceful than Jason’s. Actually, you were pretty sure you sprained your ankle. But still, you ran-limped to the man and jumped on his back before he could bonk Jason’s head with his weapon.

“ARRRRRGH”

He did not see you coming, as he lost balance at your attack. You crashed on the ground, where you managed to get on top and start hitting him. But apparently neither of you knew how to punch, so it was a rather pathetic looking fight. You swapped and slapped, pulled hair and scratched, until you got a hold of his pan and made a pancake of his face.

“Take that you pink fucking nightmare” You spat as you stood up. You turned to Jason, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

“Wow uh” He covered it with a cough. “That sure was an interesting fight to watch”

“Keep mocking me, mister fucking assassin” You rolled your eyes. “I stopped him from bonking your head”

“Alright, alright, thank you”

“No problem” You replied. “Let’s get out of here”

You went and stood on the platform the dealers came through, then waited. But nothing happened.

“I think we need to activate it” He spoke up. That was logical.

You scanned the room for a panel control, and you believed you spotted it on the opposite wall. You grabbed your shoe to throw at it, before Jason held back your arm’s motion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Activating the portal” You furrowed your brows, pointing at the panel. A big red button on which was written ‘ON’ was glaring at you from the distance. Practical target.

“Don’t throw your shoe, that’s dumb” He snorted. “Let me”

Before you could argue, he cocked his gun and fired a bullet right on the button. A death sound resonated, but nevertheless sparks began to fly and not just from the ruined panel. The portal opened and swallowed you, sending you through flashes and weird colors until you were spat out in a dull, dark place that smelled bad. Jason seemed to have landed just fine, but you were another story. You pulled yourself up, whining at the pain in your ankle.

“I didn’t expect to see you here”

A creepy, unknown voice made you both turn around. It was a pale man with an unnaturally stretched smile and bad taste in clothes, and right away it made you think the worst. You had been thrown in Dark!Happy Town. Without thinking, you let out a war cry and hurled your frying pan to the more evil version of the Mayor, knocking him out instantly.

What you didn’t expect though, was the roaring laughter from beside you.

“Oh--Oh my god” He could barely talk. “I wished I filmed that”

“What? What’s happening?” You asked. Had he gone crazy? “Who’s that? We’re not back home are we?”

“Relax, we’re back” He took a deep breath, his shoulders still shaking. “You’ve just knocked out the most wanted criminal in Gotham city”

“WHAT?”

“Welcome back, (Y/N), welcome back”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #jason todd x you #red hood x you #outlaws #crack fic

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purplecatghostposts · 4 years

Note

I'm very much interested in the story of Bubby and the ice cream flavours, if you feel up to writing it.

Today has been a day, let’s go

—

There are exactly twelve ice cream flavors in the ice cream parlor- which by all means is small- and yet Bubby is at his limit.

There’s too many choices and Bubby doesn’t know what he wants. The number of times he’s eaten ice cream can be counted on one hand so he’s not familiar with all the flavors, or what he likes.

Not to mention, there’s too many choices to make. It doesn’t just end with picking a flavor. There’s toppings, cup vs cone, size- so many things at once and Bubby is holding up the line.

Because of course there’s a line. Bubby can’t make his choices in peace- there’s workers waiting on him and other customers and every single one of their eyes is on him- he can feel it. The itch of everyone watching and waiting for him to make a choice. To fail. We’re all waiting on you, P-823. What’s your answer?

“Uh, Bubby? Are- are you okay?”

Tommy. Tommy’s here. Tommy’s looking at him with his ever-watching, glowing eyes. Tommy was trying to do something nice for him- he’s buying after all- and here Bubby is, having a crisis over ice cream flavors. He’s ruining this for him- disappointing Tommy.

Bubby’s getting soft. He’s only been out of Black Mesa for a few months and already, he’s lost his edge. All those years enduring what they threw at him, for nothing. Bubby used to keeping his cool even under the worst situations- he managed to negotiate with Gordon after he betrayed him while still stuck in his tube. He didn’t break then, nor at Xen, nor at Chuck E. Cheese. Why now? Why does Bubby feel his hand heat up and shake? Why does he have to hold back from screaming at a poor employee who’s done nothing but ask Bubby a few questions he can’t answer? Answer him, Prototype. We just want to know what your opinion is. It’s harmless, honest.

But it’s not harmless. It’s a trap, a trick, Bubby’s going to say the wrong answer and they’ll laugh and laugh and laugh at him as he gets dragged away to his tube. Bubby can kick and scream and plead all he wants but no one will help him- not even Tommy. He should’ve made the right choice, he should’ve known what the right choice was, he should’ve known but he doesn’t and Bubby will lose everything because of it-

No answer is worse than a wrong answer, Prototype 823. Obey your superior’s command and give us an answer.

“Sir, I don’t mean to rush you but there’s kinda a line forming. If you need extra time, you can let someone pass in front of you!”

Another choice. Bubby feels something inside of him snap. “I don’t know what the fuck I want- is that what you wanted to hear?” He shrieks, feeling the heat rise in within him and it’s too much, too much, too much oh god everyone in the parlor is going to see him breakdown-

“Bubby? Bubby, can you- can you hear me?”

Tommy’s voice is more even than he was expecting. He’s staying calm despite everything and Bubby isn’t sure when he sunk to the floor but there’s cool tiles against his skin. He still feels too hot but it’s a comfort. A tiny comfort he clings to when he answers.

“Fine- I’m fine- just-...” Bubby hisses back. His chest is being crushed by nothing but his own anxiety and he refuses to open his eyes. He doesn’t want to know what people think of him. “Let- let the next person in line go or whatever.” He forces out the words out, trying not to let his voice tremble. They’re coming for you, Prototype number 823. They know you’re not the perfect being.

“Don’t- don’t worry about everyone else, okay?” Tommy tells him slowly. His voice is the only thing Bubby can hear. Why is it so silent- are they all staring at him?

Bubby stifles a pitiful laugh. “No offense Coolatta but they’re the only thing I’m worried about.” Well, that’s a lie but Bubby isn’t going to tell Tommy that. “...Are they all looking at me?”

“That’s uh... They’re not really looking at anything?”

Bubby soaks his words in and a minute later, finally asks, “What?”

Tommy doesn’t say anything for longer than Bubby was expecting. Then, he speaks carefully. “Bubby... I- I think it might help you if you see for yourself. Open your eyes for just- for just a moment?”

Bubby doesn’t want to by any means. He can already feel their gazes on him, all knowing he’s far from perfect and mentally judging him. But Bubby opens his eyes anyways, then stops.

Everything else has stopped. Frozen in time and all in shades of gray- all except Bubby and Tommy. It’s true, nobody’s eyes are looking at him because nobody’s eyes are looking. They’re all blank, not seeing anything, and it’s as if-

As if...

“Did- did you freeze time?” Bubby snaps his head to Tommy, baffling at the sight of it all. Tommy rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, giving him all the answer he needs. “H- how?”

“Been practicing. That’s not- it’s not important. Bubby, are you okay?”

Bubby opens his mouth to lie. Tommy gives him a hard look and he shuts it without a second word. His heart thumps in his chest and his limbs are far too shaky for his liking. There isn’t a single person in the world who would believe him if he said he was fine.

“Why do you ask if you already know?” It comes out far snappier than Bubby was intending. Tommy doesn’t flinch or back down in the slightest.

“I- I want you to be honest with me.” Tommy sits down in front of him. He doesn’t shy away from Bubby’s anger and instead, confronts it. Which surprises him. “You’re not acting yourself.”

“And what do you know about how I act?”

“In case you forgot, I- I traveled through Black Mesa with you too. I’m in the Science Team, I see you every- every Sunday for brunch, I’ve been with you on camping trips and- and I was there at the bank heist. I might not know you as well as- as Dr. Coomer or Benrey or Gordon but- but I do know you. And... And I know what you look like when you’re scared.”

Bubby’s defensive wall starts to crumble and he hastily tries to rebuild it. To put something between him and Tommy so he doesn’t realize just how weak he is. “I’ve never been scared in my life.”

“I know you were afraid when you got put in- in your tube again- after Gordon got jumped.” Tommy counters. “I know you were afraid on Xen, and- and when Coomer got hurt on the heist. I know you get jumpy in- in hospitals or when movies have scenes about people almost getting experimented on. I’m not an idiot, Bubby. I- I keep tabs on my friends.”

Each point makes Bubby deflate a little more until he’s defeated. Bubby wasn’t expecting Tommy to be so observant but... Tommy always was the underdog type, wasn’t he? The one who you least suspect?

“Fuck.” Bubby laughs. A breathy laugh but a laugh nonetheless. “You... You’d think I’d remember that you made a dog once and wouldn’t underestimate you but... Here we are.”

“Here we are.” Tommy echoes. He gives Bubby a second to breathe before asking, “You wanna talk about it?”

“God no.” Bubby rubs his face, taking in and letting out long breaths. “No offense but you’re not who I want to talk to.”

“Feeling’s mutual, no- no hard feelings!” Tommy smiles. “But I can still help. What- what do you need?”

“How long can you keep time frozen?”

“Few hours.”

Bubby nods, satisfied. “I only need one at most. Give- give me time to breathe.”

Tommy’s understanding and Bubby can appreciate that. “Anything else? What set- set you off exactly?”

“...You can’t laugh.” Tommy nods firmly. Bubby still hesitates to answer. “Couldn’t decide what fuckin’ ice cream flavor I wanted.”

“Oh.” Tommy pauses at that. Bubby waits for some kind of ridiculing comment that never comes. “Well... I’ve tried- tried all of them so I could give you a lowdown?”

It’s not a bad idea by any means. Bubby gives him a nod and Tommy starts to describe them.

The world remains frozen until Bubby can breathe easy again. He’ll go home and talk with his fiancé later and further down the road, Gordon will jokingly ask him when he started to actually warm up to Tommy- to which Bubby will reply that it’s none of his business- but for now, Bubby will learn about ice cream flavors like it’s a class in school and the pressuring voices in his head are tuned out until he can’t hear them anymore.

Tommy and Bubby will never be as close as they are with other people, but Bubby would still die for the guy and now he knows for sure that Tommy would do the same.

—

I got a sudden rush to want to write this an hour or so ago so take... Whatever this is! I really wanted to explore the platonic relationship between Bubby and Tommy because they don’t really talk ever but they’re in a group that sees each other a lot. Anyways, hopefully this was somewhat good and thank you!!

#SB Speaks #SB Writes #Ask #Request #Long post #Bubby #tommy coolatta #Just a short lil thing #It kiiiinda got venty? eh oh well I write hurt/comfort either way #I can have a lil vent. as a treat!#but yeah Bubby time!#Bubby has a bad time buttt hes got friends who can freeze time and that helps #panic attack #just in case

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

A Shoulder to Cry on

Chapter 17 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: This one is very Angsty I hope I haven’t over done it. Mentions of drug abuse. Sorry to be clogging up you tag notes with A&E - Alone chapter today and ATB today! I hope you like it.

Only tagging those who have asked. I hate to annoy people with tags.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2103

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

His house was the closest to Rem's but him bring the brother closest to her age, they had always gotten on better than the older two. Harry was at work with back to back sessions, she didn't want to bother him. He answers the door "Lai?" Her eyes are swollen and red "Lai, what's a matter?" He pulls her in for a hug "Nate, I thought I was doing the right thing!" She sobs.

"Hey! It's OK! Come on, let's get you off the doorstep. I'll make us a tea and you can tell me what is going on!" She follows him to the kitchen "Are the kids here?" She wipes the tears from her face, "No, Zeppy has gone to Vicky" he rolls his eyes at the mention of her name "And Jade has taken the boys swimming" he calls back as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A few minutes later he comes in with 2 cuppas "There you go! I can't remember if you take sugar or not"

"That'll do fine!" She smiles as he hands her the mug "So, what has upset ya?" She sighs not wanting to talk about it, but that's why she's here "It's Rem...he probably hates me. Alene has been in contact with Melissa and she wants to build bridges with Rem. I went round just now to have a word with him and he got angry and kicked me out" she sobs.

Nate rubs her back and hands her a tissue "Oh Lai! I'm sure he didn't mean it! It's just a sore subject for him, you know this more than anyone. Once he calms down, he'll realise he shouldn't have taken it out on you" Laila wipes her tears and takes a deep breath.

"I get why he is upset, I do...." Laila's phone starts to ring, she didn't want to speak to anyone right now other than Nate, so she ignored the call, a few seconds later her phone PINGS "You should get that maybe it's Rem?" she huffs pulling out her phone Harry's name appears across the screen.

"It's Harry, Alec has told him about what happened with Rem. Looks like he tried to call me too. I'll give him a call back in bit" she puts her phone away "I think Rems will be fine once he cools off. You've got to also think it's a big thing! Here he is building this new life with Alec and suddenly the past comes rolling in" She feels a little better after talking to Nate.

"So, Zeppy has gone to see her Mum?" Nate rolls his eyes "Yeah, not much I can do able that now she's 18" Nate just shook his head, he always worries when Zeppy is visiting Vic as she always comes home with an attitude.

15 Years ago

Zeppy and Vicky's mother and daughter relationship has always been up and down, but more downs than ups. When Zeppy was 3 Nate went to pick up Zeppy as usual, she would spend weekends with him, he knocked on the door and got no answer.

He knocked a few more times again, still no answer, as he opened the flap of the letter box he could see straight into the kitchen where Zeppy was turning the dials on the gas cooker hob.

That's when the smell of gas hit him, he calls out to Zeppy to stop and open the front door.

After Zeppy unlock the door he rushed his daughter out the house and into his car before going back inside to turn off the gas and in search of Vicky but there was no sign of her in the house. Zeppy's bag was packed near the front door, he picked it up and left the house.

30 minutes later a frantic Vicky calls him, after the 5th call he finally answers "PLEASE TELL ME, YOU HAVE HER NATHAN!!???" still angry she had left their 3 year old daughter in the house by herself, he decides to be cruel "Have who?" he calmly asks "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHO?? OUR DAUGHTER!!?" she screams down the phone at him.

"No, I'm running late. I did call to tell you" this was a lie he had called her after he found she had left Zeppy at home alone. "NATHAN! SHE'S GONE!!" she's sobbing on the other end of the phone "How?" he asked, hoping she won't lie like she has on other occasions. Like when Zeppy had used Vicky's phone to call him because Vicky had collapsed. When he got there she lied saying she had the flu, but he knew better the reason why she collapsed was the same reason they split - Drugs.

"She was in the shops with me....I turned away for a second and she was gone" this was the last straw for him. She had flat out lied to him, on the way to his, he asked Zeppy where Vicky was she told him that she had left with Scott (One of her druggie friends) and told her not to answer the door to anyone leaving her there.

"Good job she's safe then! I have her, I was early, but thank fuck I was! Vic, she was playing with the gas cooker! What the earth possessed you to leave our 3 year old daughter by herself?" Vicky knew she had been caught out "Nathan! You scared the shit outta me!" his blood boiled he couldn't even be bother to answer that she clearly couldn't see what she had done was wrong.

With the help of Terry and Liz, he won primary custody of Zeppy before she was 4. When Zeppy started school Nate was a single dad, so Liz would always pick up Zeppy from school as his job at his grandad's Garage was until 5PM. He met Jade on her first shift at the pub, he was covered in oil, but her smile won his heart the first time he saw her.

The next day he came to collect Zeppy he had gone home to change his clothes and shower. Liz looked a little confused when she saw Nate walk through the door clean and smart, but she soon realised why when her eyes followed the direction he was stupidly smiling in. He made the excuse that he and Zeppy would have dinner at the pub that night just so he could stay a little longer. By the end of the night he finally worked up the courage to ask her out....

2 years later.

Jade gave birth to their first son Blake by his first birthday they were married soon followed Isaac and Alfie.

When Jade had gone into labour with Blake, Vicky assumed she would automatically get Zeppy for a few days, but Nate had already planned for Liz and Terry to have her. This broke her heart, so she turned to her only friend and overdosed. Waking up in hospital, she was greeted by Nate stood at the bottom of her bed with a sad Zeppy. She smiled at her daughter as she opened her eyes, but Zeppy didn't return it "Zep? Baby, Aren't you happy to see Mummy?" she asked. Zeppy teared up, "NO!" she shouted back at her before storming off upset.

Vicky looked to Nate "I couldn't keep it a secret from her anymore Vic. She knows how you got here" the look of realizations spreads across her face, "You told her?!" she hissed, he leaned over the end of the bed "Believe it or not...she overheard the doctor. Vic this was supposed to be a happy time, but you went and shat all over it!" he walks off leaving her with nothing, but her tears.

Although Zeppy wasn't biologically Jade's daughter, she treated her exactly the same as the boys, Vicky hated this. Whenever Zeppy would call Jade Mum in front of Vicky on the supervised visits at the contact centres, she would always hiss "She's not your Mum!" Jade would ignore her.

Jade obviously knew what happened with Vicky, but she also understood she was a Mother and how much it must have hard her to hear her daughter call another woman Mum. Much to Nate's disapproval Jade always encouraged Vicky and Zeppy's relationship she even got him to change the fortnightly supervised visits to once a week. If it was left up to Nate, she wouldn't have any contact what so ever.

As far as Vicky was concerned, he thought Zeppy would be better off without her in her life. But Jade would always convince him as much as he doesn't, like her, it has to be Zeppy's decision on whether she kept in contact with her or not and if he took that away from her she would resent him for it. Zeppy kept contact in hope that one day she might have a normal Mum, one that might put her daughter and her health first.

So far that seems a long way off.

Present day

"Probably Vicky talking in her ear, but don't take it to heart, Nate" she smiles her phone rings again. She takes a look at the screen, it's Harry again "You better answer that he'll be worried about you" Nate gets up "I'll make us some lunch and you speak to your boyfriend" Laila answers the phone.

"Hey handsome!"

"Hi my love, Are you OK? Alec called me and told me about Rem's blowing up"

"Yeah, I'm OK! I'm at Nate's just talking about it with him"

"Are you sure you're OK? I can see if I can get Ollie to take on the rest of my PT sessions for today?"

She smiles at his sweetness "I'm fine now....what time do you finish? I'll pick you up in the car?"

"If you're sure? I finish at 4 today"

"Yeah, I'm sure and I'll see you at 4"

"OK 4...I love you!"

"I love you more"

Nate makes a gagging noise at his sister, she laughs as she hangs up "Things going well between you two then?" she rolls her eyes at him "Clearly!" he hands her a sandwich "Cucumber and lots of butter" she laughs, "You used to make me these for my packed lunches at school or if I was ill"

"You loved them, I remember someone telling mum not to make your lunch box because you wanted me to do it!"

"To be fair mum would normally chuck in some Jacobs crackers with butter and grated cheese, that stuff would always go everywhere! Do you make the kids these?"

"Yeah, Zeppy used to love them. Alf, Blake and Isaac still have them if they are having packed lunch"

They heard the front door slam "Jade? Zeppy?" Nate called out soon after he heard footsteps hammer up the stairs before another door slam "Zeppy?!" Laila said as she looked to Nate. He sighed and was about to get up from the sofa to deal with his daughter, but Laila grabbed his arm "Let me!"

He sat back down, leaving Laila to deal with one of Zeppy's mood swings. She knocks on the bedroom door to hear Zeppy yell "Dad, go away!" She knocks again "Zippy, it's me!" She heard her huff followed by footsteps coming closer.

The door swings open, Zeppy's eyes are swollen "Will you stop calling that Aunt Leia!" Laila laughs.

It was 3 months after Nate had found out about Zeppy that Laila first met Zeppy. She could never pronounce her name right, it always came out as Leia, it kinda stuck until she hit her teens and she started calling her Aunt Laila and she asked her to stop calling her Zippy.

"Are you going to let me in to have a chat?" she doesn't respond, she moves away from the door and wanders back into her room leaving the door open. Laila walks into the bedroom Zeppy is slumped on the side of her bed, head down looking at her feet. Laila saw her wiping her eyes, "Zep's, what's wrong?" she sits down next to her, Zeppy turns away from her "Come on, you can tell me!"

"She's using again!" she hisses towards Laila, she pulls Zeppy to her chest and she begins to sob "Am I not enough? I told her after the last time if she used again that's it...I'm cutting her out of my life"

It breaks Laila's heart to see her niece like this.

Why can't she see what an amazing daughter, she has!?

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 18.

@lem-20 @ridgy--didge @secretaryunpaid @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @tea-me-kah @casualpostqueen @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @beautifuluknownvoid

#atb #fictional story #Always The Bridesmaid #Original Work #original writing #original character #original story #pixie 88 #harry x laila

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Note

Hi. I was wondering if you could maybe do a Diego Hargreeves/Reader one using BH from the 100 Ways to Say I Love You or Kiss #V. I mean if you're not too busy. Sorry, I know you probably have better requests but there's not a lot of Diego ones that are sweet and I feel like you're really good at sweet.

A/N: Alright, you asked for cute, so I tried to keep cute, as fluffy and fun as I could while also applying generous steam. Also, look Letters! Hope you enjoy Word Count: 1769 Rating: M - sexual situations

“Please just come unlock the door for me, I know you have a master key and can,” you begged Al, struggling to balance the boxes and bags in your grasp.

“No. I’m not Hargreeves’ minder and it’s not my job to let his girlfriend in just because she doesn’t rate a key,” the old man snapped.

“I mean, in my defense, you told Diego he wasn’t allowed to make a copy of the key and give it to me.”

“I don’t know you, so I don’t want you having a key to anywhere in my gym! It’s a boiler room not an apartment. Nice, pretty thing like you shouldn’t be bothering with him while he lives there anyway.”

You managed a shrug around your packages. “If you won’t let me in, can I decorate out here?”

“No!”

You rolled your eyes before fixing the gym owner with your best puppy-dog pout. “If you didn’t at least sort of like Diego, you would have kicked him out ages ago. So I know you’ll understand when I say that I really, really want to do something nice for him this year.”

“I’m not helping you with this nonsense.”

As he turned to walk away, you blurted out in desperation, “I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

That seemed to catch his attention and he turned back to you. “Why didn’t you start there, girl?”

Several hours later, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. It wasn’t perfect, the banner over the sink hung just slightly askew for example, but you had to give it to yourself, you had done a pretty good job.

With a slight smirk, you placed the two paper conical hats on the little folding table, the finishing touch, and sat on the bed to wait for your boyfriend to return home.

You were just about dozing off when you heard the doorknob rattle and braced yourself. You were fairly certain that he wouldn’t enter expecting danger, but with his penchant for throwing knives, you could never be too careful.

“Hi hon,” you said, once you were sure you weren’t about to be skewered.

“Y/N,” he started before smirking, “hey.”

“How was your day?” you tried to be as nonchalant as possible, even though if you were standing you would be bouncing on the balls of your feet in excited anticipation.

“You know, same old same old,” he shrugged as he started removing the leather harness he always wore out.

You moved to his side, kissing him on the cheek, your hands deftly replacing his own to undo the buckles on the straps.

“Really?” you asked. “There was nothing special about today?”

His eyes flickered to yours as he caught your tone. You watched the quick flash of panic as he considered that he might have forgotten something important, like an anniversary, before he registered that you were still smiling adoringly at him. Only then, did he actually look around the room, searching for some clue for what was going on. His mouth fell open in shock and he stared, dumbfounded.

“What’s…all this?” he asked after a moment, stunned expression still in place as he gestured to the signs you had carefully taped to the walls.

“Well, if you looked a calendar, you’d know today is October 1st…”

“Uh-huh…” he nodded, eyes now falling on the table and the party hats sitting there.

“Which means today is…?”

“Y/N, what are you getting at?” he asked, facing you with a completely puzzled expression.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s your birthday, Diego. So I wanted to do something for you. I know it’s not much, but Al vetoed throwing you a party in the main room. Said something about it being a serious business, not a Chuck E. Cheese.”

“Y/N. This is your idea of ‘not much?’ There are balloons…” his voice was incredulous and for a moment you worried that he was annoyed.

“I…it’s just…I know your father was never big on parties…or fun…or joy…when you were growing up, so I wanted to do something nice for you. I thought, for once, you should have a proper birthday.”

You could see him melt at your words, offering you a soft smile. “It’s perfect, Baby. I…can’t believe you went through all this effort just for me.”

“Of course I did, I love you Diego.”

He grinned even wider at that, pulling you in for a kiss which warmed you to the core and made you very tempted to suggest skipping the dinner and cake that you had worked so hard to procure. After you reluctantly separated, you guided him over to the table and set a plate of take-out lasagna in front of him as if it was a five-star dinner at the most exclusive club in the world. The two of you ate in companionable quiet, one hand laced together over the tabletop the entire time. Even if you were in a dingy boiler-room, everything about the moment was perfect.

“There is one more thing…” you smirked as you set about cleaning up from both dinner and the chocolate cake that had followed. “Your birthday present.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Y/N. Not after all this.”

“Well I did anyway. But you’ll have to unwrap it.”

You returned his puzzled look with a temptingly raised eyebrow. His eyes trailed down over you slowly before flicking back to the look on your face.

“I think that can be arranged,” he said, stepping closer and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“I thought as much,” you replied. You itched to start planting kisses over every inch of him, but you wanted to let him have total control, do whatever he wanted tonight, so you stood as still as you could.

Slowly his hands trailed down your arms, ghosting over your flesh before he twined his fingers with yours.

“I might be the luckiest man in the world.”

He pulled you in close by your joined hands causing you to almost stumble into him as he kissed you, but quickly, you took control, impatient with his gentle touches. Tugging teasingly on his lower lip, you coaxed his mouth to part for you and allow you to explore every inch of his mouth, as if you didn’t know everything about him. Fingers still interlocked, you began luring him toward the small bed in the corner, step by faltering step.

You hadn’t gotten far when he pulled you up short with a growl, releasing your hands in order to tangle one of his in your hair, tugging lightly and drawing out a moan. With the other, he began to caress your side, running his fingers up and down, sliding increasingly lower past your hip until he reached the hemline of your dress. Bunching the fabric in his fingers, he gathered it and slowly pulled it off of you, hot skin brushing against yours as he exposed you and the royal blue lace lingerie you had bought specifically for the occasion. He pulled back to get a better look at you and groaned, the sound sending a thrill up your spine and drawing out even more of your desire.

“Do you have any idea the things I want to do to you, Y/N?” he asked, trailing kisses along your collarbone and down the slope of your breast.

He began moving again, backing you toward the bed as he continued to tease, using the hand still tangled in your tresses to angle your head and expose even more skin to him. You moved as he directed, a marionette for him, stumbling and shuffling in a passion-drunk haze.

“I have a few guesses,” you said breathlessly, one of your hands carding through his short, spiked hair and the other clinging desperately to his shoulder.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure what all he’d want to do with or to you, but you trusted him and surrendered to him completely, especially tonight. Anything he wanted, if it was within your power, would be his as far as you were concerned.

Your knees hit the edge of the bedframe and the pair of you fell back. You sighed in relief at not having to try to support yourself on jelly-like legs as he hovered over you.

“God, baby, you look so good like that,” he groaned.

Suddenly, there was a rapid knocking on his door.

“Diego,” the voice on the other side, one you recognized as his brother Klaus, whined through the thick panel. “It’s urgent.”

He sighed. “We could just ignore him. He’ll go away.”

“Or you can just acknowledge and get rid of him. I think knowing he’s hovering outside the door might…kill the mood a bit?”

Before he could respond, the man in question burst through the door in a fabulous flail of limbs and fur trim, landing face first.

“Oh! The door was unlocked!” he cried as he climbed gracelessly to his feet.

His eyes fell on you and Diego, lingering for longer than made either of you comfortable on your half-clothed form below his brother.

“You should hang up a sock or something at least,” Klaus teased.

Diego grunted in frustration, shaking his head and rolling his body to block Klaus’s view of you. “What do you want?”

“Well it’s our collective birthday. And during my third…fifth?...drink I found myself thinking, do I really want to spend today alone? No. I want to celebrate with someone important to me. And who could be more important to share today with than my beloved brother?”

Diego rolled his eyes as Klaus continued to ramble, either too high to realize just how much he was interrupting, or just not caring. The curly-haired man flopped sideways into the threadbare chair in one corner.

“So anyway, happy birthday, bro,” he drawled, kicking his legs about until he positioned himself in a way that he thought was comfortable, sprawled out and clearly determined to stay.

You sighed and reached down to the floor, digging out your dress from where it had somehow ended up, under the bed. Tugging it over your shoulders, you asked, a little sharply, “Do you want some cake, Klaus?”

He grinned and clapped his hands, “Oh I would love some. That is so sweet of you, Y/N.”

“No, babe, don’t. If you feed him he’s never going to leave,” Diego complained.

“I’m not going to be rude. It is his birthday too after all.”

You leaned in to whisper into Diego’s ear, nipping teasingly on the lobe as you did, “besides, it’s not like your present is going anywhere. It’s yours, any time any place.”

#Diego Hargreeves x Reader #Diego Hargreeves #reader insert #The Umbrella Academy.#TUA #Klaus is a loveable pain in the ass #is this too generic? survey says results inconclusive #requested

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reelybadfnafocs · 3 years

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My FNAF OC

Okay, I’m pretty new at this, but the idea for this particular FNAF oc has been floating in my head for a while. wassup its mod mangle here. gonna review the shit out of your oc. ill be talkin in this bold text is gonna look blue on the blog. alright cool les go

Name: Winchell The Clown-Wolf OK THIS FOLLOWS THE NAME RULE BUT CLOWN WOLF HAS ME SCREAMIN

Species: Wolf [I know it’s not original] it do not matter…dont worry

Job: Main Mascot, cheering up anyone who is sad, celebrations.

Purpose: to bring joy to everyone this, as well as the job description, is incredibly broad. its fine as a cheesy in-universe slogan, but when trying to build a character, youre probably gonna want to thaw this out more beyond a generic statement.

Creator: Robert [I can’t think up a last name for him, but he’s named after the Jack In The Box founder]

Location: Winchell’s Pizza and Burgers. ham burggy

Where: While he and his fellow animatronics usually perform on a stage based off of the little town they have in the commercials [think Mcdonaldland and other 70’s/80’s commercials], they’re mostly just free range [the reason is that unlike Fazbear Entertainment, Winchell’s is SUPER strict on customer and employee safety, this plays a role in my AU fic where they outlast Freddy’s because of it]

Age: I’m not sure what to put, but if it counts, Winchell’s was founded in 1978 [a year after OG Chuck E Cheese], but due to vengeful Freddy Fazbear employees, the chain closed in 2009. It reopened a few years later, with upgraded animatronics. instead of putting an age, try substituting this with a “years in service/use” section. im not sure about this whole age thing either tbh

Haunted: Sort of, Winchell is haunted by his original voice actor, but said voice actor only attacks [via Winchell] those who harm kids or employees. This is why the vengeful Fazbear employees don’t try again after the first attempt. not really a sort of then innit bruv! sorry idk how british people talk. anyway, yeah, this is definitely haunted. not by a vengeful evil spirit i suppose but still haunted.

Skill: Winchell will howl to alert the player of “Polar Freddy” [vengeful Freddy’s employee #1], “Arctic Bonnie” [Vengeful Freddy’s Employee #2], and “Icy Foxy” [Vengeful Freddy’s Employee #3]. Winchell can also distract some of the animatronics [including 2 of his own crew] that were re-programmed by the Freddy’s employees to harm people in various ways, but can only distract them for a small amount of time. He’ll also turn the power out to prevent both the employees and the animatronics from seeing, but this doesn’t work on Billy Bluebird [one of the reprogrammed Winchell’s animatronics], Snowy Chica [the only non-spring animatronic of the arctic themed re-opened Freddy Fazbear’s], Withered Toy Freddy, and Fixed SpringBonnie. [It also doesn’t work most of the time anyway, but at least he tries to help you.] Also, sometimes he’ll talk to you, which will catch the attention of Fixed SpringBonnie and the vengeful Freddy’s employees. At the end of the game, Winchell will defeat SpringBonnie permanently on the last night [but only if you don’t get jumpscared], but will have to sacrifice himself to prevent the other animatronics as well as the angry Fazbear employee’s from offing the player. NO NOT WINCHELL

Appearance: Mint Green, with his face being white with blue cheeks and a purple nose. He has a red shirt, and blue bell-bottoms [Winchell is from 1978, I wanted to reference that.], as well has having a blue clown hat [like Jack from Jack In The Box’s hat]. ohhhmy god hes perfect

I can’t draw for the life of me, but I will give you the inspiration for Winchell.

The 1970s version of Jack from Jack In The Box [who is my icon]: He’s a really underrated mascot [I’m a 2000s kid, but I like to research vintage things], and he was voiced by none other then Paul Winchell [Tigger from Winnie The Pooh], who’s name is also the inspiration for Winchell. There are two animated commercials and three comic with records [How a House Makes Noise, Where Oil Comes From, and How Pain Helps Us], starring 70s Jack and his crew on Youtube if you’re interested [also to help get a bit of a feel for Winchell, as Winchell is supposed to have many of the same personality traits as 70’s Jack].

Personality-wise: Winchell is very similar to 70’s Jack, just a bit clumsier and slightly snarkier. He’s also prone to being protective of everyone he’s close to [such as the player], and will do anything for them, but he does have his limits. Winchell will not tolerate mean people or rudeness [Billy Bluebird was made as a snarky and rude character to be a foil to Winchell’s kindness].

final thoughts:

you had me at “wolf-clown.” fucking brilliant. a few kinks here and there but its not terrible in the slightest. ohhh my god. i love winchell

#Review #submission #mod mangle

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some-days-we-get-sundays · 4 years

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Avalance couple questions- basically little one shots

First road trip:

Sara and Ava went to go visit Ava’s pretend parents in Fresno.*let’s just pretend they can drive to Fresno.

Sara: Look Ava I know I held a knife to your moms neck the last time but it was only because I thought something bad had happened to you and that they had something to do with it. But I really wanted to meet your parents for the first time, with you by my side. None of my significant others had normal parents. Yours are fake but they’re like out of an old navy catalog and...

Ava: Honey-

Sara: Right. Anyway I really would love to get to know them with you. We can both get to know them together and i dunno, make it a regular thing maybe? And you can meet my parents too. So what do you say, road trip?

Ava: Wait, did you say you held a knife to my mom’s neck :?

They decided to do it the old fashion way and take a car so that they could have an excuse to buy junk food for the road trip to Fresno. Well Sara wanted the excuse. Ava got apples, carrots, pears, and granola. Sara got sour patch kids, peanut butter cups, skittles, lunchables (even though Ava made them both sandwiches), twizzlers, and bbq flavor chips. They played 20 questions and would you rather. They took turns driving while the other dozed off. They argued over what to listen to on the Bluetooth. Ava wanted Taylor Swift and Sara threatened to break up with Ava just for suggesting that. They belted out some Lizzo and Ariana Grande, they listened to H.E.R and some classic rock after that. One would always try to hold the others hand while driving until they would swerve on the road and have to pay more attention to the road instead of each other.

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First impression of the other:

Sara: Scared and horny. She first sees Ava in her pants suit threatening the legends. Sara is turned on and then she realizes that Ava is being mean to her crew so she prepares a snappy comment just to see pants suit squirm and get more agitated. It’s super arousing to Sara watching this tall beautiful woman be so bossy and demanding and giving orders. But Ava isn’t on the legends side so Sara doesn’t like her... even if she’s fucking gorgeous.

Ava: Damn I finally get to see this captain “bad ass” in person. And jeez it should be a crime to have eyes that blue. What is she like 5 feet tall. She’s so tiny. How can this little human do all the damage she’s been doing for so many years as a legend and then even before that as an assassin. I knew she was... pretty but damn she’s like insanely pretty. Beautiful really. And that damn attitude... I’d like to take her down a peg. And that smart mouth of hers. Making fun of my outfit, that’s original. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that smirk off her face with my lips. Woah no. Sara’s bad. Bad Sara. Bad hot Sara. Fuck I’m so screwed.

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What do they argue about the most:

Sara’s life before the legends, Ava being the C word. Sara hiding things from Ava because she’s scared to ruin the relationship and Ava finding out and getting upset. Sara not letting Ava take care of her sometimes and wanting to handle things on her own. Ava is very nurturing and wants to take care of Sara but she often forgets that Sara had a very troubled life after the boat accident. Sara is used to hard shit and used to taking care of herself. Even when she was with Nyssa, both Sara and Nyssa were raised on survival, not love. Sara has to remember that Ava loves her with no obligations or strings attached. Sara doesn’t have to be scared with Ava, she doesn’t have ultimatums with Ava. So even though it’s been some years, Sara still has a hard time letting her guard down. Ava makes sure to look Sara in the eyes, softly hold her face and push Sara’s hair back and tell her that she can open her heart to Ava and that Ava wants to be there for Sara and that she loves Sara with her whole being. Ava tells Sara that even though she died a couple times and was an assassin a couple times that it’s still Ava’s job to protect Sara even though Sara could kick Ava’s ass if she wanted. Sara still tells Ava that she was taking it easy on her that day that they fought each other on the wave rider. Ava says, “you wanna bet.” And then they fight each other all the way to the bedroom.

Sara doesn’t understand what it’s like to realize your whole life was made up. She and Ava fight on occasion when Sara forgets sometimes how Ava came to be. Sara will bring up things that she did as a child and Ava doesn’t have those memories. When these things happen, Sara takes Ava’s hand, runs her thumb over Ava’s fingers and kisses Ava on the cheek. She then vows to make new memories with Ava every time that Ava is feeling particularly sad about being a Clone. They’ll go to chuck E cheese, they’ll have water gun fights, they’ll build a clubhouse and make forts and continue to go camping (without the monsters), they’ll watch some of Sara’s fave cartoons and kids shows, they’ll make up handshakes and play video games, they’ll play truth or dare, they’ll go to the 80′s and 90′s and walk around the mall, Sara will take Ava to live concerts and shows... Sara assures Ava that even though the past was fabricated, her present and future with Sara are very real <3

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Favorite things about each other:

Sara likes Ava’s height. Even though mostly everyone is taller than Sara, not everyone has the perfect height difference between them like Sara and Ava do. Sara likes when Ava swoops down and captures her lips. Sara likes standing on her tip toes and having Ava’s arms wrapped around her body. She likes when they’re hugging and Ava slightly lifts Sara off the ground. Sara likes when Ava spoons her because Ava’s body is soft and it perfectly engulfs Sara’s body and makes her feel like she’s in an Ava cocoon. Sara daydreams sometimes about the curve in Ava’s top lip. Those pouty lips of Ava’s send Sara overboard every time. One of her favorite things to do is suck on Ava’s top lip. Ava also has princess hair and Sara often calls her princess pants suit. Sara can spend hours lazily running her fingers through Ava’s locks. She loves when Ava let’s her braid them while they watch movies. Sara also likes Ava’s legs, they are so toned and they go on for days. Sara doesn’t mind when she gets caught hungrily looking at them either. Sara likes the pet names that Ava calls her. Oliver never called her pet names, and Nyssa called her beloved but Sara likes being Ava’s baby, Ava’s babe, Ava’s sweetheart, Ava’s honey. Sara likes that Ava makes breakfast for them both. Sara isn’t always the best at taking care of herself but Ava makes sure she’s eating properly. Ava’s heart is just so big and she cares so much. It makes Sara ache sometimes, how much Ava cares. Sara loves that Ava worked her way to the top. Nothing was handed to Ava. Ava is brilliant and extraordinary. She can take care of herself, just like Sara. Ava was a woman in a man’s world of monsters and she held her own. She can fight her own battles, just like Sara but she likes that Ava allows herself to cry and be sad and confused and admit when she needs help. Sara learns from Ava how to be more vulnerable and how to forgive herself.

Ava also likes Sara’s height. She usually is self conscious about being so tall but Sara makes her feel beautiful. She loves leaning down and closing out the world as she kisses Sara. She loves wrapping Sara up and protecting her. She doesn’t want Sara to go through anymore pain and when she engulfs Sara, she imagines that she is shielding her from any more heartache. She likes that Sara is so small but so fierce. Everyone around her is taller but when she walks in the room, she’s easily the tallest most strongest, fearless person there. Ava is in awe of Sara’s confidence. Sara told Ava about her past, but she still thinks some things have been left out to spare Ava. Ava doesn’t mind and knows that Sara will tell her when she’s ready. Ava knows this is probably everyone’s favorite physical feature about Sara but she doesn’t care. Those damned blue eyes of Sara’s. Holy shit. The first time Ava saw them in person she gasped. How is it possible to have eyes so blue. Ava feels lucky that Sara only has those eyes for her. She thinks just getting to have Sara in her life makes up for the fact that she is a Clone. Sara makes it all better. Ava of course also likes Sara’s abs. Sometimes when they’re lounging on the bed, Sara sprawled out in every which way, Ava slips her hand under Sara’s shirt and runs her fingers over Sara’s abs. She sometimes will lightly kiss them too. And it’s more tender than it is sexual. Ava sees little scars here and there that she traces with her fingers and kisses with her lips. She doesn’t ask Sara about them. Ava is fascinated by all of Sara’s martial arts skills and often gets Sara to show her some of the moves. Ava thinks Sara is the strongest person that she knows. She has fears but she does stuff anyways. She powers through her fears and doubts, she doesn’t hide or run from her past like she used to. She embraces who she is. She doesn’t apologize any more for who she was or how she had to survive.

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What do they do in their downtime?

Besides making up for lost childhood memories, Sara and Ava are homebodies. They obviously use the jump ship for vacations and weekends away but mostly they like to hang out on the time ship in Sara’s room. They lie in bed together and talk, they play video games, Ava reads and Sara puts on earbuds and speed reads audio books. They read the same book so that they can discuss it with each other. When they do go out they like to try all the suggested restaurants from different time periods and areas. They like to go watch movies in the theaters from all the different time periods as well. Sometimes they’ll have picnics or lounge on different beaches. They’ll go to art shows, and cute shops, and museums and they absolutely love walking around old bookstores together- the older the better. Mostly they love to just spend time together. It’s rare that they want to be apart like some couples. Ava and Sara have almost lost each other too many times and they’re always around the Legends, so they cherish anytime together when it’s uninterrupted and just the two of them.

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Who is more jealous

Ava keeps finding out all of the people that Sara has slept with. She’s not mad and she doesn’t blame these people. Who can resit the charms of Sara Lance. Ava certainly couldn’t. She doesn’t blame Sara either. Ava knows that Sara loves her and she now knows that Sara doesn’t want other women. Sara didn’t even want an Ava clone. She could have had her pick of a number of Ava look alike’s but she wanted this Ava. But those insecurities run deep. She’s more secure the longer that they’ve been together but when they’re around attractive people, Ava stands closer to Sara or grabs her hand and squeezes it. Sara squeezes it back every time and Ava relaxes. Then when they are alone, Sara shows Ava how much she only wants her.

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Who is more romantic

Sara is. Sara loves spoiling Ava. And cooking dinner for Ava (ok sometimes Gideon cooks but it’s the thought that counts). Sara loves getting Ava random gifts just because. Her and Charlie and Zari like to sneak away on the jump ship and go shopping in different time periods and Sara always finds cute little trinkets or jewelry or books to bring back for Ava. Ava doesn’t like the commercial holiday and hates her birthday but Sara loves to go all out. Sara likes the moonlit walks and the nights under the stars. She likes going to fairs and winning prizes for Ava. She grew up watching movies where the guy always kissed the girl in the rain, or made a big speech or got flowers just because. And even though Sara grew into this tough bad ass who died many times and had to do terrible things in order to survive, under all that she’s still that same little girl watching those movies, not even being able to believe that she gets to have this fairy tale. She gets the girl and fights the monsters, demons, and dragons on the way.

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First to Wake up/Go to Sleep

Sara usually wakes up before Ava but it’ll be anywhere from 2-5 in the morning. She still has nightmares so she’ll sometimes get up and go make Tea and take it back into bed with her. Ava wakes up at the normal time and when she see’s a mug that wasn’t there before on the nightstand, she feels bad because she knows that means Sara had a nightmare. Ava will make breakfast (even with Gideon insisting to let her do it) and then she’ll rub Sara’s back or stroke her hair till she wakes up. Ava usually falls asleep first unless it was a super tough day then they both knock out at the same time. Sara usually is the night owl though. She always seems to have so much on her mind keeping her awake. Once Ava has fallen asleep beside her, Sara snuggles in and spoons Ava, burying her face into Ava’s neck.

#avalance #sara lance #ava sharpe

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mel-at-dusk · 4 years

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HOW THE MARASCHINO CHERRY BECAME A COMFORTINGLY TRASHY AMERICAN ICON

Just when did the syrupy, lipstick-red lynchpin of ice cream sundaes, 1970s fruit salads and throwback cocktails conquer the world (and your grandparents’ home bar)?

The cocktail cherry may be small, but it looms like a fiery red planet over the modern history of eating and drinking. Look, there it is, bobbing around in the rust-brown murk of a Manhattan; and, hey, there it is again nestled in the snowy peak of an ice cream sundae, lurking in the syrup-soaked folds of an upended can of fruit salad, or in your parent’s drinking cabinet, languishing in a sticky jar first opened at the dawn of the Clinton administration.

For more than 100 years it’s been the Zelig of the culinary world, beaming out from multiple places it probably shouldn’t be, inviting you to spear one with a cocktail stick, bite down and let your mouth flood with the unmistakable taste of… well, what exactly?

Not actual, fresh cherries, that’s for certain. No, the taste of a cocktail, glacé or ersatz maraschino cherry has nothing to do with the luscious, grape-like subtlety of real stone-fruit. Its impact on the palate — almonds and preservatives and a great, hallucinatory wash of artificial sweetness — is the flavor profile of a cherry as described by a drunken child. Something that, even way back in 1911, was railed against in a New York Times editorial as “a tasteless, indigestible thing, originally, to be sure, a fruit of the cherry tree, but toughened and reduced to the semblance of a formless, gummy lump by long imprisonment in a bottle filled with so-called maraschino.”

And yet, even though this resistance to the gloopy, synthesized commercialism those little red globules represent is at least a century old, the cocktail cherry abides as a cultural artifact. Not just in the post-Mad Men context of master mixologists hoarding artisanal Luxardo cherries or producing their own housemade varieties, but in studiedly kitsch, revivalist dessert parlors like New York’s Morgenstern’s Finest Ice Cream; and even, scattered throughout Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon A Time… in Hollywood, garnishing the industrial-strength whiskey sours of one Rick “Fucking” Dalton.

“When you see a bright red one now, it’s like a bartender with a waxed moustache and sleeve garters,” notes Jared Brown, drinks historian and master distiller with venerated British gin brand Sipsmith. “It’s no longer just itself. It’s nostalgia and irony and humor.”

So how does something so ridiculous and occasionally reviled come to have such durable appeal? How the hell are they even made? And what, exactly, do bitter food standardization wars, embalming fluids and carcinogenic food dyes have to do with it?

Well, pour yourself a stiff Mai Tai, crown it with what may be your final ever cocktail cherry, and let’s chart the turbulent life, near-death and eventual resurrection of a near-indestructible American icon.

As with most convenience foods, the cocktail cherry story starts out innocently enough. Cherries stretch back to the prehistory of Europe and West Asia, and pretty much since that time, they’ve been notorious as the frail divas of the produce aisle — difficult to transport, susceptible to bruising and known to liquefy without refrigeration. And so, innovative orchard owners in the early 1800s — most notably the Croatian-born, Italian-based Luxardo family — started preserving at-their-peak cherries, both as an alcoholic liqueur and steeped in a boozy brine made up of mulched cherries, pits and sugar.

This was the Big Bang that gave us the maraschino, named for the sour, Marasca cherry variety that Luxardo made their own. It wasn’t long until these pickled fruits were infiltrating the U.S. as part of the wider mania for cocktails in the mid-to-late 19th century. (The original 1888 recipe for the martini, as Brown notes, called for a “cherry rather than an olive.”) But soon, that original, burgundy-hued Luxardo maraschino was joined by a whole Rothko color wheel of lurid U.S.-made knock-offs, soaked in cheaper preserving syrups.

One reason for this was pure cosmetics. “The first taste is with the eye, and in the days before social media, the maraschino cherry offered a huge visual bounce,” notes Brown. “Think of it resting in the brown tone of a Manhattan — it’s like a bright red beacon in the drink. [And so,] there was a need to get it as brightly colored as possible.”

Yet it’s also notable that the maraschino cherry’s turn-of-the-century ascendancy also coincided with the wider vogue for lab-made dyes, flavorings and additives that flourished in the pre-FDA era. (Relevant: This was also a time when, at the behest of nervous dairy farmers, margarine had to literally be dyed pink in some states to broadcast the fact it wasn’t butter.) “For many years, I’ve asked audiences at tasting events what maraschino cherries, grenadine and sloe gin have in common,” says Brown. “And the answer, of course, is nothing. Nothing! And yet, go back to my childhood and they were all the same color and flavor because they came from the same lab.”

Throw in the arrival of Prohibition in 1920, and the fact it meant fruit could no longer be preserved in alcohol, and other brining methods needed to be found. It was a team of Oregon-based scientists who, after more than five years of experimentation, realized that calcium salts could preserve the Northwest’s seasonal glut of fresh cherries, and also help them retain their firmness. What’s more, in the 1930s, this same team realized that if you bleached the cherries and then dyed them red (or green, or even, occasionally, electric blue) the vivid pop of color would be even more pronounced. At this point, the American “maraschino” — leached of its natural color, embalmed in synthetic preservative and flavored with almond-derived benzaldehyde — had mutated into something only tenuously related to its European forbearer.

The original maraschino farmers in Italy were — if you can believe this — not crazy about American producers using their name to hawk cloying, cherry-shaped candies the color of antifreeze. But by 1940, they had lost a long-stewing food standardization battle, when the FDA decreed that the name “maraschino” had now evolved beyond its original meaning and, to most Americans, meant the artificially flavored neon red scourge of the Luxardo family.

And so, in the wake of World War II, the cocktail cherry’s cultural dominance truly began; slotting into an additive-laced mid-century food landscape, they gleamed from Betty Crocker cake recipes, adorned every other drink at a newly established 1950s Tiki bar chain called Trader Vic’s, and even, come 1978, gave their name to a hardcore adult film called Maraschino Cherry. “I remember adoring them,” says Brown, recalling his 1970s childhood in upstate New York. “There was nothing better, when we were out at a restaurant, than getting a cherry on a little plastic cocktail sword.”

If anything they were even more adored in the U.K., where a collective, post-rationing proclivity for all things sweet only added to their appeal. Eccentric TV chef Fanny Cradock would place them on the top of troublingly phallic “banana candle” party concoctions, and in Only Fools and Horses — a beloved, long-running BBC One sitcom about a family of luckless grifters living in South London — it became synonymous with main character Del Boy and his fondness for gaudy drinks that represented a tacky sort of sophistication. Even when I was growing up in 1990s London, my parents — first-generation Nigerians who rarely drank — would always have a glowing container of what we knew as glacé cherries beside a long-opened bottle of brandy.

“You can’t underestimate the power of a good garnish,” laughs Alice Lascelles, drinks writer and author of Ten Cocktails: The Art of Convivial Drinking. “That Day-Glo cherry is something I associate very strongly with childhood and the idea of a grown-up drink, a celebratory drink.” This mixture of childishness — of innocence — and a more adult glamor seems to be at the heart of the cocktail cherry’s appeal throughout this period toward the end of the last century; they’re fruit with all the subtlety and unpredictability chemically extracted, an unapologetic hit of trashiness that appeals to both Chuck E. Cheese birthday party attendees and the kind of chain-smoking bar flies we all sat two stools from long before social-distancing measures required it.

But, of course, the cocktail cherry party came to an abrupt halt later in the 1980s. Partly, this may have been lingering scares over the occasional use of Red Dye Number 4 — a chemical colorant with some links to cancer in animal trials — in some preserved cherries, permitted because they were deemed to be “decorative” rather than a foodstuff. Also: There were unfounded rumors about formaldehyde being used as a preservative which, perhaps fittingly, just wouldn’t die.

Mostly, though, their waning was linked to the demise of the movement that first popularized them in the U.S. “The maraschino cherry collapsed precipitously along with the collapse of cocktails,” says Brown. “Suddenly, you weren’t finding anyone over the age of 10 lunging toward maraschino cherries, and what happened was people discovered wine, which eventually went into craft beer.”

At that point, in terms of the popular consciousness, cocktail cherries were mostly glimpsed at the fringes of culture, or within insalubrious bars with “C” hygiene ratings tacked to their windows. Then, inevitably, as the cocktail revival of the mid-2000s began in coastal cities, sailor-tattooed mixologists started looking into what preceded the neon cocktail cherries of their youth, and eventually rediscovered Luxardo’s original, burgundy-colored and naturally sweetened maraschinos.

“I remember I’d race [Milk & Honey founder and bartender] Sasha Petrosky and Audrey Saunders [of the Pegu Club] to a place called Dean & Deluca because it was the only place you could buy Luxardo maraschino cherries in New York,” recalls Brown about the frenzy during the craft cocktail boom. “It didn’t matter which one of us got there first; we would end up [dividing] them out until the next shipment.” Now, Brown reports, Luxardo is sending “palette-loads a week over” for import and he himself preserves around 200 jars of maraschino-style cherries a year to sell from his home in the English countryside. In 2017, Luxardo planted 2,000 new Marasca cherry trees in Northern Italy — taking their total to 30,000 — just to keep pace with demand.

The pendulum, after all those years of traffic light-red candied cherries, has swung back to something purer again. Yet, interestingly, the unnatural cocktail varieties haven’t disappeared. They’ve had their own rebirth, whether crowning old school cocktails at acclaimed, 1960s-inspired Detroit bar Hammer and Nail, or clogging social media feeds as part of author Anna Pallai’s Twitter account-turned-campy-coffee-table-hit 70s Dinner Party. “There’s a definite trend for kitsch that’s brought them back,” says Lascelles. “Instagram has helped as well, because they really pop in a picture.”

It makes sense that the current, extremely online moment — where almost everything can be both completely sincere and larded in multiple confusing layers of irony — would be the time when both these diametrically opposed approaches to cherry preservation would find room to flourish. They are, as Brown notes, “jubilant and ebullient at a time when humor and fun is something we are all desperate for.” It seems as plain as the unearthly red glow, beaming from the bottom of a filled coupe glass in the corner. Like that opened jar in your parents’ home bar, the cocktail cherry isn’t going anywhere.

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