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recurring-polynya · 4 years

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I know I missed Renji's birthday but if you ever have time, I would absolutely love to see anything about Renji and Orihime's friendship. I always headcanon him as her no.1 weird bakery experiment supporter, but really anything would be great! They just seem like they would be each other's go-to supports and I would love to see your take on them!

Anon, I have no excuse for why this took so long! RenHime BroTP is one of my very favorite things, but I managed to draw a huge blank on this and then I went through two concepts that didn’t work before I managed to hit on one that did. (Also, I did write two other Renji & Orihime stories in the Time of Many Drabbles, one where they make a cake and one where they act out Orihime’s fanfic)

Anyway, I love the Advance Team Arc, please enjoy this Advance Team Arc story about Renji and Orihime trying to cheer Rukia up by going thrifting, ft. the all-time greatest Renji clothing item.

👖 🧥 💀

Orihime was headed outside for lunch, thinking longingly about her curry tuna fish sandwich, when a low, gravelly voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Oi, Inoue. You gotta moment?”

Abarai was leaning up against the wall of the school, his eyes scanning the school yard like he was waiting for a brawl to break out. Abarai reminded Orihime a lot of a guy in a prison movie. Not the guy that masterminded the prison break, but the guy who had the whole prison figured out and knew how to get illicit goods and would help the main guy escape even though they were sort of frenemies. Orihime found him a little bit scary, but in a cool way. They probably didn’t have motorcycles in Soul Society, but if they did, Orihime would bet money that Abarai would ride one.

“Sure!” she announced eagerly, and followed in his shadow as he silently rounded the corner of the building. He moved very quietly for such a big person, unlike Ichigo and Chad, who crashed and thumped wherever they went, especially when they went somewhere together.

“I gotta problem and I’m hopin’ you’ll be able to help me out a little.” Abarai shifted his shoulders a little, obviously uncomfortable in his school uniform.

Orihime knew all about the stresses of the undercover lifestyle. Clearly, he needed someone for an inside job, someone who knew all the subtleties of living a normal human existence. Fortunately for him, Orihime had been a normal human almost her entire life. “How can I be of assistance, Lieutenant Abarai?” she barked.

Abarai blinked at her. “Er. It’s not really mission-related. I need, um, some advice, I guess.”

Orihime set her jaw and tightened her fists. “I am short on life experience, but I have read many magazines. Ask me anything.”

Abarai waved his hands. “No! No! Look, you’re friends with Rukia, right?”

“Yes!” Orihime agreed. That was an easy one.

Abarai nodded quickly, happy to have found some firm footing at last. “The thing is, she’s been taking Ichigo’s vanishing act kinda hard.”

Orihime gave a tiny nod, her fingernails digging into her palms. The truth was, there was a dull, Ichigo-sized ache in her own heart, as well. She couldn’t stop wondering where he was and what he was up to and if he was getting good hearty lunches. She imagined it must be a thousand times worse for Rukia who had come all the way from Soul Society to just to see him.

“She gets real crabby when she’s worried,” Abarai continued on, continuing to scan the grounds, presumably for lurking Rukias. “She’s been getting on me for not having enough spare clothes for my gigai. I wouldn’t usually let her boss me around like this, but I thought it would make her feel better so I told her we could go, ah, shopping.”

“Oh, that’s so nice!” cried Orihime.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a prince. But here’s the thing: Even though Captain Hitsugaya outranks me, I am technically the mission manager, which means I’m in charge of the budget, and I’d really, really like to come out in the black. Matsumoto already conned me out of a significant portion of the petty cash. I don’t think Rukia has a real good handle on human money and I sure as hell don’t. I told Rukia that we should ask one of her friends to come along and she said she’d ask you, and I just was hoping you could help me keep things, y’know, frugal, without making a big deal about it.”

Abarai looked a little sheepish even asking. Orihime remembered the size of Rukia’s house back in Soul Society, the beautiful kimono she had worn once she was no longer a criminal. Orihime knew all about having friends who had more money than you. Her resolve hardened and slammed her fist into her open palm. “A strict budget is no reason not to look your best!” she announced. “You have come to the right person, Lieutenant Abarai! I, Inoue Orihime, Thrifting Champion of Karakura, will help you out!”

Abarai’s face washed over with relief, followed very quickly by confusion. “The what champion?” he echoed.

👖 🧥 💀

“You are a saint, Orihime!” Rukia declared as they marched down the street, arm in arm, Renji trailing grumpily a few paces behind, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “A gem! I offered to borrow something from Ichigo’s father for him, but this ingrate was having none of it.”

There was some low-pitched muttering from behind them.

Orihime was trying to picture Renji in the pink, ruffled tuxedo shirt Dr. Kurosaki had worn under his lab coat the last time he set Tatsuki’s sprained ankle. “I don’t think Dr. Kurosaki’s style would be quite right for him,” she suggested diplomatically. “I… guess… he’s supposed to be a teenager?”

Rukia heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re correct, as usual.” She craned her head back over her shoulder for a moment. “You owe Orihime an ice cream for this, Lieutenant Hopeless!” She swung her head forward again with a huff. Renji shot Orihime a wink.

Orihime couldn’t quite figure out Rukia and Renji’s exact relationship. Rukia has described Renji as “her friend.” On one hand, she hadn’t said about the shinigami from Ten or Eleven. On the other, she called Renji a lot of rude names and harangued him a lot. Renji had seemed pretty concerned about Rukia when he had pulled Orihime aside that afternoon, but now he was all slouches and scrunchy eyebrows. He reminded Orihime of Ichigo.

Oh! Maybe there was something to that! Maybe Renji was being a grouch on purpose so that Rukia could yell at him and feel like she was yelling at Ichigo. Wow! That was some master-level friendship. Orihime wondered if she should be taking notes.

“Ah, here we are!” she exclaimed, pointing at a little, tucked away shop front.

“What sort of shop is this?” Rukia frowned, examining the cluttered store window.

“It’s a thrift store,” Orihime explained. “People sell old, but well-made clothes to the shop, and they resell them for much cheaper than new clothes. Sometimes you can find really neat vintage, designer things that a rich person only wore a few times and decided they didn’t want. Uryuu likes to look for really ugly things made from nice fabrics and then re-tailor them. I have to modify a lot of my clothes, too, because of-- well, you know.” She gestured vaguely at her chest.

“What a brilliant idea!” Rukia proclaimed. “That’s so practical! Renji, isn’t Orihime a genius?”

“I didn’t come up with the idea,” Orihime mumbled self-consciously.

“Maybe you should open a shop to sell off your brother’s spare kimono,” Renji suggested airily. He was definitely baiting Rukia now, Orihime could see it when she watched for it.

“I should!” Rukia declared, closing her eyes haughtily. “People would probably pay twice just because he wore them!”

Renji just snorted.

👖 🧥 💀

“How about these?” Rukia asked, holding up a pair of jeans. “They look like the kind Ichigo wears.”

Orihime pulled her head out of the rack of pants she was sorting through, and Renji’s head popped up from the next aisle. “Hmm,” she said, tapping her finger on her lips. She knew what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to make Renji feel self-conscious by talking about his body and also, she didn’t want to make it obvious how much time she’d spent looking at Kurosaki’s butt. “Those are skinny jeans. Abarai is a lot, um, more muscular? than Kurosaki-kun? He would do better with a straight leg cut, I think.” She wished Uryuu were here. She didn’t know that much about men’s clothes, but she had heard him say that once while lamenting Chad’s tragic commitment to bootleg cuts.

Apparently, Rukia had no such qualms about Renji’s positive body image. “Hear that, Thunder Thighs? This is where all those squats get you.”

If this bothered Renji, he didn’t let it show. “My thighs are majestic, Rukia. Some people enjoy a guy with a little meat on his bones, for your information.”

Rukia laughed then, a sharp, amused guffaw, almost a cackle. Orihime looked up suddenly. She was sure she’d heard Rukia laugh before, but it had been a high-pitched giggle, a girlish titter. There was a gleam in the shorter woman’s eyes, and at first, Orihime thought she was being mean to Abarai, but when she glanced at him, his eyes were twinkling and he had a slight smile on his face.

Orihime got the sudden sense that she was interrupting something, although she wasn’t sure how you could interrupt someone making fun of someone else. She ducked her head and focused on rifling through the rack of pants in front of her. “How about these?” she asked, holding up a likely candidate.

“Those look pretty worn out,” Renji frowned.

“They’re distressed, Renji,” Rukia explained pompously. “It’s human fashion. They come that way. It presents the illusion of leading a rough and tough, adventurous lifestyle, even for fancy boys like you.”

“Rukia,” Renji scolded her. “Members of the Sixth Company do not walk around with their knees on display, for anyone to see.”

Rukia snorted, and Orihime suspected they were making yet another inside joke. “How’s he gonna find out? And if he does, you can just tell him you fell down the stairs, he would definitely believe that.”

“Er, here’s another pair without any holes,” Orihime offered. “They’re black.” Uryuu also had a lot of opinions on black jeans, but she was pretty sure Renji could pull them off.

“Thank you, Inoue,” Renji said, extra-graciously, reaching over the rack to accept them.

“You better try them both on!” Rukia yelled in her bossy voice. “I demand to see the forbidden knees!”

“Whatever, you’ve seen ‘em, before,” Renji muttered, but he was still smiling.

👖 🧥 💀

“Hey, Inoue!”

Orihime ducked past a rack of sweatervests, to where Renji was contemplating a leather jacket.

“Do humans still wear stuff like this? I know they were pretty popular a few decades ago.”

“Oh, yes,” Orihime agreed. “It’s a timeless look.”

Renji looked mildly shocked, but happy.

“That’s a really nice one,” Orihime added. “You should try it on.”

Renji didn’t seem like he needed a lot of encouragement to slip it over his shoulders. “I had a roommate who had one of these,” he admitted. “They look pretty dumb over a shihakushou, but Iba has never once let looking like a moron slow him down.” He grinned. “I was jealous as hell of it.”

Orihime clapped her hands. “Oh, Abarai, it looks so good on you!” It wasn’t even an exaggeration. It was black, a classic motorcycle cut, and it fit him perfectly. Orihime amended her mental movie casting of Renji: in a jacket like that, he could definitely be the protagonist of an American motorcycle movie, flicking cigarettes into the gutter and leaving a broken-hearted girl pining after him after he got run out of town for Raising Too Much Hell.

“Is it expensive?” Renji asked, holding out the sleeve with the price tag. “I don’t know what a jacket is supposed to cost.”

“It’s a very practical wardrobe staple,” Orihime advised. “Especially this time of year. It’s just starting to be jacket weather, and this will carry you through until winter, unless we have an especially cold one.” She checked the tag. “Leather jackets aren’t cheap, but this is a very good value. If you can afford it, I think it’s worth it.”

“I think I can make it work,” Renji murmured, obviously doing a bit of mental math.

“Hey, Abarai,” Orihime said, leaning forward, and keeping her voice low.

“Eh?”

“Is it going the way you planned? Do you think we’re cheering Rukia up?”

Renji opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I think we at least took her mind off him for a bit. What do you think?”

Orihime contemplated. “She seems like she’s having a good time. I think she liked looking at your butt when you were trying on pants.” Renji raised a skeptical eyebrow. To be fair, Abarai had a very nice butt. Orihime was pretty sure she still preferred Kurosaki’s butt, but it hadn’t exactly been a trial. “On the other hand, she does yell at you a lot,” Orihime said quickly. “She’s very difficult to read.”

“Yeah, I know. It takes some practice,” Renji replied. “And she hasn’t been yelling at me. You haven’t begun to see Rukia yelling at me.” He rubbed his chin. “I think we’re doing a good job. Thanks, Inoue! I couldn’t have pulled this off on my own.”

Orihime blushed. “Oh, I haven’t really done anything!”

“I think you und--”

Orihime never found out what Renji was going to say, because Rukia came skidding into the coat aisle. She was wearing a denim vest, a feather boa, and a cowboy hat, and clutching something in her hands. “Hey! Hey, Renji! Renji, I just fou...nd…” She trailed off as her eyes scanned Abarai up and down, lingering on the leather jacket. Her mouth dropped open a little.

Orihime’s eyes darted to Renji, who looked paralyzed by this development. His hand went to his hair self-consciously, his fingers getting caught in his bandana awkwardly.

If Orihime had felt like a third wheel up until this point, she realized that sometimes bicycles can be very hard to ride if you aren’t used to them, and third wheels are helpful when you’re in danger of tipping over and crashing. “Rukia, look at the jacket Renji found! He’s being waffley! Help me convince him to get it!”

Rukia came back to herself suddenly. “It fits you perfectly, you fool! Listen to Orihime.”

“I dunno,” Renji drawled, having pulled his act together as well. “It’s kinda expensive.” He started to grab another coat off the rack. It was tweed and had elbow patches. “Might keep looking for a bit.”

“No!” Rukia commanded, and Renji’s hand reflexively dropped the hanger like he’d just touched something hot. Rukia cleared her throat self-consciously. “Speaking of things that are non-negotiable, look what I found for you!!” With a flourish, she unfurled the bundle in her hands, which happened to be a t-shirt.

At first, Orihime had no idea what she was looking at. Obviously, it was a t-shirt. If she had to guess, it had been printed by a garage band full of teens that played a lot of covers and had to bum rides to their gigs. There was a drippy looking skull and some words in English. It was objectively terrible. But in a charming way.

“I love it!” Renji shouted, with far too much enthusiasm. “I don’t read English very well, though, what does it say?”

“I don’t either,” Rukia admitted. “I think this says ‘red’, though.”

“It says ‘red pineapple,’” Orihime supplied. They had just finished the unit on fruits and vegetables in English class. She had gotten a 100 on the test.

Renji and Rukia both burst into gales of laughter.

“How much is it?” Renji wheezed. “I’ll pay a million kan for it.”

“They use yen here, you buffoon,” Rukia gasped. “It’s got an orange sticker, what does that mean?”

“That means it’s on special clearance,” Orihime explained, scanning the chart hung on the wall. “100 yen.”

“Ha, ha, that’s cheap! It’s mine!”

“You were skeptical,” Rukia lectured, wagging a finger, “But I told you, didn’t I, Renji? Orihime knows what she’s doing.”

Renji wiped a tear away from his eye. “Double ice cream for Orihime,” he agreed. “What would we do without her?”

Orihime’s face felt very hot. She waved her hands frantically. “Really, I didn’t--!”

“Also, remind me what ice cream is again.”

“You dummy!”

Orihime stopped protesting. Anyone who didn’t know what ice cream was definitely needed her help.

#my writing #renhime brotp #a little renruki too #for a treat #i may have gotten carried away with the inoue pov #i just love her so so much #bless her heart for putting up with these dipshits #i probably should have edited this an extra time #but i didn't #i am tired

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speechlessxx · 4 years

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For Better, For Worse II (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: In which the reader honors her vows.

Warnings: Language, Soft Ransom (is that a warning?), SPOILERS (if you haven’t watched Knives Out & you should get on that lol), bad writing, angst, flashbacks, slight violence, hints of mental illness, it’s also not proofread

Word Count: 1762

Feedback is appreciated!

READ PART ONE HERE

When you first met Ransom, he was nothing short of a complete asshole. He flirted aimlessly and got what he wanted – a true spoiled brat. You were the first girl he ever encountered that simply shrugged him off and told him to ‘get lost’. From that moment, he was infatuated with you.

You remembered how he’d walk you to class despite his being on the opposite side of the campus. He asked you out on multiple dates and you shot him down every single time. You remembered how your friends discouraged you from falling for him. Like them, you were under the notion that Hugh Ransom Drysdale was nothing but a trust-fund prick. But sometimes – and it was rare, you promised yourself – you found yourself enjoying his company.

It would be as you were walking from the library back to your dorms. You would drop your books. And like a scene straight out a movie, Ransom would materialize out of nowhere and help you pick up your belongings.

It would be at a party and your friends had gone off with their significant others, effectively leaving you stranded and alone. Ransom would wave away at his friends as he took the empty spot next to you on the wall.

“I hate Professor Fitzgerald.” He muttered to you.

“You don’t have that class?” You tilted your head.

“No, but you do. English 1302. And I know you hate him.” Ransom smirked as he took a sip from his red cup.

“And how would you know that?” You asked.

“Because every time you’d walk out of his lecture, you have the cutest little crease between your brows.” You frowned at his words.

“I do not,” you scoffed.

Ransom only chuckled, pointing at your face. “See! Right there!”

You laughed, pushing him away. “You have it, too.” Ransom frowned, mockingly. “Aha! Right there!”

“What a pair we are, huh?”

“Fuck off, Drysdale.”

“Keep saying it enough, it’ll be yours.” He laughed.

“What?”

“My last name. Keep saying it enough, it’ll be yours.” He said, matter-of-factly.

“Whatever, Hugh.”

You remembered months after his constant ‘courting’ of you, he showed up to your dorm. It was in the middle of a Friday night – your roommate had gone to a party – and it was pouring. He was soaked from the rain and he gave you a sluggish smile and held out a bouquet of lilies, your favorite flower. You were about to slam the door in his face when he stopped it.

-=+=-

“Why don’t you want me?” He asked you and for a second, he sounded hurt. You scoffed in response as you tried to pry his hands off from wood of the door. “Seriously,” Ransom continued, “I’m trying.”

“You’re trying?” You laughed, coldly. “You’re borderline stalking me, Hugh.” He cringed as his first name left your mouth. “You’re just playing a stupid game. How much did you bet?”

Ransom frowned. “Bet?”

“Yeah. How much are your buddies giving you once you announce to the world you got me in bed? How ‘bout you just tell your friends you bagged me and leave me the fuck alone!”

“It’s not a bet, (Y/N).” Ransom shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his. “I’m not playing a game. If anything, you are.”

“How am I playing a game?” You snapped.

“Because clearly, I like you and you just keep playing hard to get. But fine by me.” He coughed a bit. You stopped trying to slam the door in his face – and possibly his hand – when you realized how pale he looked. “I’ll keep playing your game. I’ll keep putting in more and more effort ‘cause damn, you’ve got me under your spell.”

“Ransom…” you muttered as he broke into a fit of coughs. “Oh god, come in.” You opened the door wide enough so that the poor boy could come in. “Take off your clothes.”

“Woah, woah… I don’t know what you think of me, missy,” he laughed, “but I’m trying to take you out on a date first.”

“That’s a first, huh?” You teased.

“Believe it or not, yeah.”

“I’m trying to dry them, dipshit.” You laughed as he shrugged off his coat.

-=+=-

He had the world fooled that he was a complete dick, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized, it stemmed from his insecurities. His attitude was a defense mechanism because of how awful his family could be.

But with you, he was different. He was kinder and softer. And the more he let you in, the more you fell in love with him.

The Ransom you fell in love with wasn’t a monster like how the news articles said he was.

The Ransom you married wasn’t a murderer.

And yet, he confessed to you that he was.

He told you that if it weren’t for dirty cops and what was left of his mother’s wealth, he’d be locked away for his crimes.

He told you the story. And, no, he didn’t tell you any lies. Ransom was many things, but he could never lie to you. Not you. He told you the complete, unfiltered truth with all the grimy details that he didn’t even tell the cops or his lawyers.

So, where did that leave you?

-=+=-

When you first told your family that you were separating from Ransom, they were happy for you. They told you he was no good. They said that you were blessed enough that you didn’t bear his children – that nothing but your last name tied you to him.

But that wasn’t true.

Your heart still belonged to him. Every beat called his name.

So, maybe that’s why you didn’t run. That’s why you took him into your arms after he told you the story of how he killed Fran and tried to frame Marta for his grandfather’s death. Maybe that’s why you kissed the crease between his brows and told him that you love him despite it all.

-=+=-

“Your father called,” Ransom sighed as you walked in the house, arms filled with groceries. He walked over, grabbing the bags from your hands and setting them on the table.

“What he say?” You didn’t need to ask. You knew. You knew your family’s opinions about the man you married and the family you were marrying into. You knew they’d support your separation more than they’d support your reunion.

“Called me a monster,” Ransom huffed. “Oh, but what’s new, huh?”

“You aren’t a monster, Rans,” you muttered, kissing his cheek as you began to unload the groceries.

“You don’t want a divorce?” The words stunned you. Divorce. It was so ugly. The mere thought made you cringe. “That’s what your father told me to tell you. File for divorce as fast as you can before you’re next.”

The house quickly became silent as a tension filled the home. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind until a few weeks ago when you were on the phone with your parents. They talked your ear off, telling you that staying with Ransom was the worst decision you ever made. ‘You’re taking a risk just by being in the same house!’ your mother cried. ‘You’re going to be his next kill, (Y/N)!’.

You never thought you were in any danger around Ransom. Despite what the world may think of him, he wasn’t a coldblooded monster. Not when it came to you.

But the possibility was still there. Your parents reminded you of that every time you spoke.

“No, Ransom.” You said. “I don’t want a divorce.”

Ransom’s face was expressionless as he stared at you. You sighed as you continued to put away the groceries. Your father had no right to tell your husband that. Your marriage – and your decision to stay in it – was completely your choice.

“You don’t think I’ll hurt you?” Ransom blurted. You stopped what you were doing. His tone was different. It was colder. “You don’t think you’re next?” You stayed silent because you knew he was about to explode. “Because… that’s what the news thinks. That’s what the police think, too, I’m sure. That’s obviously what your family thinks – I’m sure mine think the same. Everyone thinks that I’m some coldhearted murderer and that my naïve, sweet wife will meet the same fate as the housekeeper.” His voice got louder and louder as he got closer to you. He slammed the cupboard shut, making you flinch at the sound. “So, tell me! Is that what you think? Do you think you’re next, huh!” You stayed silent. “Answer me!”

“Ransom,” you whimpered. His eyes quickly became soft as he took a step back. In his rage, he had frightened you. He scared you. He scared his one ally.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered.

“It’s okay.” You nodded. “It’s alright.” You weren’t scared at all. You understood his frustration. Everyone was assuming one thing – Ransom was a monster – and that simply wasn’t true.

“No, it’s not.” He backed away. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into feeling sorry for him by any means. He was afraid of himself. He was afraid that on one bad day, he’d snap. He had taken one life away, what’s to stop him from killing the love of his life? Ransom wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have – “

“Ransom, it’s fine,” you shushed as you rushed over to him. You carefully wrapped your arms around your husband, stroking his back. “You won’t hurt me. It’s okay.”

“But what if one day I do?” He asked. Ransom sighed as he looked down at you. “Sometimes, I can’t help but feel angry. Like there’s something in me that’ll just snap, and I’ll lash out. And it’ll tear me apart if I lash out at you.”

“Have you said that to your therapist?” You asked him. The court had assigned a therapist that came by your home once a week. Ransom didn’t like him – or so he said he didn’t. Ransom huffed in response. “That’s something you should bring up in your next session, Rans.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust that you won’t because you aren’t a monster, Ransom. Despite what everyone might think, that’s not who you are.” He dug his face in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in your arms. “And one day, everyone will see you how I see you.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” He muttered though it was muffled. He placed a delicate kiss at the base of your neck.

“I love you too, Ransom.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #knives out imagine #knives out #ransom is my kryptonite #i love him alot #fluff #angst #lots of angst #imagine

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bleedingthirium · 4 years

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Gavin x Reader (Dreams Come True)

Title: Dreams Come True Words: 10,300 (sorrynotsorry) Genre: Emotional Hurt-Comfort, Fluff, Romance Characters: Gavin Reed x Fem!Reader + Nines (platonically) Warnings: Um, it’s super long, rushed in some places, completely unedited because, let’s be real, who has time to edit? and just chaotically structured writing. Authors Note: Really self-concious of this fic. It didn’t turn out anywhere near as good as I hoped it would. So catch my sobbing at Gavin’s desk. This is for @bring-me-a-coffee-dipshit because she’s been feeling down and no one hurts my baby! Me & my DCPD boys will protecc this gem. Also, I don’t know how to write long fics. Hence the chaotic messy structure of writing. I’m not a professional. I also don’t know how to write short fics either because this was supposed to be written done ‘n’ dusted within a day. And it took over a week! Probs should’ve put in parts. But I’m also lazy so... ENJOY!

Summary: Gavin gets a phonecall stating reader has been admitted to hospital due to fainting from stress. There’s only one thing that can stress reader out to such a point and Gavin is PISSED.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ Nothing ever seemed to feel good enough for anyone. You tried your best, but your best wasn’t good enough. You were in desperate need of a break because you could feel yourself breaking down. It was hard to find the strength to smile, and where you normally would smile, tears threatened to present themselves in the corners of your eyes. Luckily a deep, slow breath and an eye-roll to the heavens as if praying the pain away, seemed to keep those negative emotions at bay. The factor of your stress was the preparation of exams, and understandably so. Exams were always a stressful time for everybody, but it seemed to be the worst time for everything to come crumbling down around you.

You had a phone call from your Mother, who seemed to always find something to nitpick about you. Normally you could just shrug your shoulders at the end of the phone call and go about your day. Either you were high on stress already, or what your Mother said seemed to have hit too close to your heart, validating those fears you had; that you were destined to be a failure, your grandparents would be disappointed in you, your mother is currently disappointed in you (yes, she said that!), all because you decided to pursue business studies and get a degree in Business so that, one day, you could open a new bookstore and run it the way you want to; for it to be a unique and welcomed independent store rather than a big chain retail store. Your Mother would have much preferred you to pursue a more beneficial career, something like Politics, Medicine or Law. Something that was, unfortunately, too out of your league of knowledge. It wasn’t for lack of trying. You would have loved to have become a woman of medicine, a scientist even! You find all that fascinating and constantly reading journals, watching documentaries… but you are just unable to retain the information. It’s not because you’re dumb. It’s just how life is. But your Mother had no problem calling you out on it and quite plainly stating that you’re dumb. “I never expected to raise a child whose IQ is lower than the average person. What was the point in supporting your studies if you weren’t going to build a decent career for yourself? At least your boyfriend has a decent career. You should be disappointed and ashamed of yourself. Because I am.” That was the phone call of the morning that had started your bad day. You already had a bad week regardless. Stressing over studies and exams, and then dealing with rude customers at your local part-time job. You loved your job, you enjoyed helping customers but the rude ones… It really began to take its toll on you. And you didn’t want to whine to your boyfriend at the end of the day because he has much longer shifts than you, and his occupation is physically and mentally demanding. The last thing you wanted to do was bitch to him about your menial day when he could’ve been dealing with bigger shit. “Can’t believe someone as dumb as you is working in a place like this. The easiest job in the world and you managed to fuck up my order. I want to speak to your manager.” It was one tiny mistake that could have easily been rectified had this customer given you the chance to apologise and correct your mistake. No harm done. Instead, you were left speechless at the sudden onslaught of insults that your own mother basically spat at you hours earlier. You call your manager as per requested and allowed him to deescalate the situation while you excused yourself to assist other customers. At the end of the day you were called in to his office and even with the door shut, every word could loudly be heard in the staff lunch room as you were being berated over the incident earlier. The entire day had been an extremely bad one in general and you were more than glad to go home. Unfortunately everything began to drown you all at once. You didn’t even make it to your bus stop when your hands began to tremble violently, your legs felt like jelly, your heart was pounding so painfully in your chest that it was like knives were beginning to stab at you from the inside, noises were muted out yet you swore you could hear yourself struggling to breathe as well as hearing the blood rushing in your veins right in your ear. You didn’t even hear anyone call out when you collapsed.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

It was a slow day at the Precinct which was both a blessing and a curse; it meant no major crimes had taken place, but it also meant that Gavin was stuck with paperwork – something that he despised doing and would often neglect to do, and then in situations like today, he now has a mountain of neglected paperwork to get through. It was beginning to drive him mental, and oddly enough, Gavin was beginning to get on Nines’ nerves. Understand that Nines can deal with every annoying, conceivable flaw that Gavin has, but today Gavin had managed to push Nines over the edge. “Let’s go get some lunch. Out of the office.” Nines suggested, placing his pen down and leaning back against his chair, blue eyes looking over at Gavin. “Best idea you’ve had all day.” Gavin agreed a bit too quickly, though it didn’t come as a surprise to Nines. Typical that Gavin would agree to anything that would get him out of doing paperwork. Nevertheless, Nines hadn’t seen Gavin consume anything nutritious since arriving at the Precinct. This would be a great subtle way to get him to consume some sustenance. Gavin drove downtown, a little bit away from the Precinct just so he didn’t feel so closed-in with work; he wanted to enjoy his food not think about work. But as luck would have it, his phone rang. “You gotta be fucking kidding me! Can’t even take a lunch break!” came the grumbled as one hand left the steering wheel to answer the phone, only for his hand to be swatted away. “I’ll answer it, you need to abide by the road laws.” “Bite me. If it’s Fowler, remind him that he does have other fucking officers there.” It wasn’t Fowler. It was an unknown number, but local, according to the area code. “Detective Reed’s phone.” “Is this Gavin Reed?” “Detective Reed is currently driving. May I ask what the nature of the call is?” “I’m Doctor William Kent from the Detroit General Hospital, I’m calling to let Mr. Reed know that his partner is currently admitted under our care.” “Any injuries?” “No, she came through the emergency from fainting.” “Fainting? What was the cause?” “A panic attack most likely.” “We’re on our way.” “What?” Gavin asked as Nines ended the call but continued to hold the communications device in his hands to prevent Gavin from breaking the law of being on the phone while driving. He ought to upgrade his car a little, get a Bluetooth speaker that can accept incoming and outgoing calls. Or invest in a phone cradle at the very least. What was the point in becoming a Detective if you weren’t going to uphold the law? “Y/N has been admitted to the Detroit General Hospital under –“ “Why? What’s wrong? Is she hurt? Did they say anything?” Gavin interrupted in a mild state of his own panic, Nines noticing his stress levels rising a little bit. “Under the emergency of fainting from a panic attack.” Nines calmly finished despite being interrupted. Gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly to the point where his knuckles turned white, Gavin forced himself to keep to the speed limit as he took a left turn instead of going straight ahead to their original location. You weren’t injured, that was his main priority. You weren’t injured. But you fainted. You weren’t pregnant, it wasn’t a hot day, and as far as he knew you didn’t have a fever… It was just… Stress. He knew you were stressing over your studies but he didn’t think it was this bad. Was he really that shit of a boyfriend that he overlooked the clues of your stress levels? What kind of Detective doesn’t pick up on displays of body behavior? Gavin had been oddly quiet since the phone call and arriving at the hospital. Mentally beating himself up for not being as attentive to her as a boyfriend should. He was so caught up in a case that he took to working around the clock in order to bring it close. - “Babe? I gotta stay back. We’ve got a lead and we’re so close.” The dreaded phone call came through one night, but you weren’t surprised or frustrated. He had began coming home late at night so you knew he was working on a case that required a lot of his attention as well as priority of needing to bring it to a close before anything more bad comes of it. “It’s fine, Gavin. Honestly. Just make sure you eat something. Coffee isn’t food.” “You sound like Nines.” “Well maybe you should listen. You’re a good Detective but you’re a shit listener.” You both chuckled at the light teasing before he needed to get back to work. “I love you Gavin.” “Yeah. Yeah… I love you too. G’night Babe.” “’Night.” You both hung up and Gavin remembered how lucky he felt to have someone who understood him and his position. Granted, he didn’t have to stay back and pull an all-nighter, but when he had a lead and he was on a roll, it was best to let him go. His previous partner didn’t understand and he would often come home to a pissed-off partner, yelling arguments ensued… But with you, he came home to a home-cooked meal wrapped up in the fridge so all he had to do was microwave it, sometimes there was a little note on the fridge of microwave door that simply read ‘I love you.’ One time you even put a note on the coffee machine with two large letters, ‘NO’ and a frowny face. Guess you caught on to the fact that he’d come home and have a coffee before bed. A bad habit you were trying to get him out of. “If you want something that tastes sweet but bitter, come have me.” You teased when you first told him off for having coffee so late at night. Precinct nights are fine, you understood the need for caffeine then, but when he’s home – that’s a solid ‘no’. He had tilted his head back and let out a deep, gorgeous laugh. His eyes crinkling from the wide grin he wore on his permanently exhausted features, “Babe, there is nothing bitter about you. I don’t think you even know how to be ‘bitter’.” You definitely won that argument as his hands rested on your hips and pulled them to his. His smiling lips brushed against yours before taking you into a deep kiss, only to pull back ever so slightly, “Mm, definitely no bitterness.” “No bitterness?” “Only sweetness.” Your own lips turned up into a playful smirk, eyebrows quirking up ever so slightly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him down into another heated kiss, murmuring “I know something else that’s sweet.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” You breathed against his lips as you began to tug him out of the kitchen. - “Gavin!” A stern voice interrupted the males thoughts as he was still tightly gripping the steering wheel, car idling despite already pulled into a parking bay. Head quickly turned to glance at Nines, blinking as Gavin came back to his surroundings with a sinking heart. “I let her down, Nines.” He sighed out the burdened confession as his hands dropped from the wheel, one hand pulling the gear stick into ‘park.’, the other flicking the engine off before both hands dropped into his lap. Nines LED flickered to yellow as he watched the storm of emotions engulf Gavin, who was staring guiltily ahead at the looming building of the hospital. “You did no such thing, Gavin. I can’t always tell when you’re stressed out until you snap. It doesn’t make me any less of a competent colleague to you, does it?” “Friend.” Gavin corrected but sighed softly as he agreed, “No, it doesn’t. But…fuck!” Nines quietly waited until Gavin’s strew of emotions calmed down. Sometimes the more Nines tried to reason with the Detective, the more angered Gavin became. He found it beneficial to wait until Gavin was calm enough to see reason. “Alright. Let’s go. You comin’ with me or what?” “Only to protect the medical faculty should you lose your temper at them.” Nines made up the half excuse. Partially knowing that if something involving Gavin’s lover ‘girlfriend’, there’s a high percentage that Gavin would lose his patience with the medical team over things he didn’t understand. Such a situation being if they needed to keep her in for a few nights, Gavin might argue about taking her home, not understanding their reason. At least with Nines there, he can easily diffuse any situation before Gavin escalates to an annoyingly level of inconvenience. As they entered the hospital, Gavin made a beeline for the reception desk. “Can you tell me where Y/N Y/L/N is?” Nines caught up to Gavin just as directions were given. She wasn’t too far. Second floor. At least she wasn’t in the opposite wing of the hospital. Taking the elevator to the floor, Nines quietly accompanied Gavin as the two began the pathway to where your room was located. The only times Nines spoke was when he called Gavin’s attention and gestured to the correct room number. As the two walked past the window where the blinds were open, they could see you sitting on the bed, cross-legged but curled in on yourself, staring at the white blanket. Your face void of emotion but also looking like you’re about to burst into tears at any given moment. Nines would be lying if he said that what he saw didn’t affect him somehow. Something tugged painfully at his synthetic heart. Which was odd because he knew his systems were running at 100% perfect stability. The flicker of his LED from the calm blue to a violent red was enough physical evidence to give away that the stoic RK900 android was worried about you. This was not you. You were normally cheerful, bubbly, hardly ever without a smile unless you were deep in thought or focused on a task. Even being given something as simple as a single flower or a cup of tea would cause you to smile for hours. You cherished the little things. Nines thought you were just a clueless naïve human being when he first met you. Little did he realize, at the time, that there was nothing naïve about having a heart of gold. For the heart you carried brought so much joy to Gavin, made him more tolerable in the workplace, and seemingly a better and healthier person. You were a good influence on him. And Nines couldn’t help but notice how everyone welcomed you when you stepped into the Precinct. They were all happy to talk to someone new, get some stories of an adorable domestic Gavin… To put it simply, you were a walking ray of sunshine. Even Nines found himself feeling elated whenever he saw you. Nines stood to the side, allowing Gavin some privacy with you as he entered the room with a gentle rap of his knuckles against the door. “Babe?” ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ You lifted your head at the sound of a voice that always felt like home to you. The first words to you spoke was a heartbroken plea, “Gavin? God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Immediately Gavin was by your side. “Hey, hey. No. No, you’re okay. It’s okay.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, taking your hand and enveloping it in his. Your other hand had a strap around the wrist and finger, attached to a machine as it monitored your pulse rate. You also had two sticky pads to your chest with thin wires popping out from the neckline of your work shirt, monitoring your heartrate.

“You got me out of paperwork so, y’know, thank you.” He murmured playfully, trying to lighten your mood and bring a smile to your face. But it didn’t work and he certainly didn’t expect it to. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Sometimes it was like everything shut down and plunged you in a numb state, and then the next minute you felt like you could burst into tears and drown your soul beneath the floods. Nines watched from the window as you collapsed your head against Gavin’s shoulder, hiding your face in his neck. You didn’t appear to be sobbing but your shoulders sagged in defeat. Gavin’s torso twisted slightly to accommodate the new position as he wrapped his arms around you, murmuring softly in your ear. (“It’s alright. ‘M here. I’ve got you.”) Occasionally pressing kisses against your forehead. It fascinated him the way Detective Reed worked. He was a smart-mouthed asshole at work, probably less since you’ve been with him. Heavy sarcasm. Matching quip for quip with Nines. Dangerously short-tempered. Definitely plays the role of ‘bad cop’ in the interrogation rooms. But with you… it’s hard to see him as the short-tempered grumpy Detective he’s known to be. There’s a new gentle side that Nines knew he had but never saw it. Until now.

There was a knock to the door as the Doctor approached, the nursing staff most likely have informed him that your emergency contacts have arrived. You immediately pulled away and curled back in on yourself as Gavin stood up to shake hands with the Doctor. “Detective Reed, I presume? Doctor Kent.” This time Nines entered the room now that the Doctor was present and blue eyes immediately dropped onto your huddled figure. Your cortisol levels were high, your serotonin levels were low. There was clearly more than just stress, hints of depression perhaps? None of the medical staff seemed to have picked up on that. Mind, Nines wasn’t programmed to read a human body psychologically, so he wasn’t equipped to make such bold conclusions. “I’m relieved to see your unharmed, Y/N.” Nines gently greeted you, trying to bring a softer tone to his usually sharp matter-of-fact tone. You offered a small smile but Nines could see your bottom lip quivering and the smile and gaze immediately dropped, going unnoticed by both Doctor and Detective as the two conversed, Nines bringing his attention back to the conversation. “How’s she been sleeping?” “Uh, decently. She studies throughout the night. Not coming to bed until near midnight.” “What time does she wake up in the mornings?” “5 or 6ish, I guess.” “The healthy amount of sleep an average person should be getting is 8 hours. 7 at the bare minimum. The lack of sleep that, I’m assuming has been ongoing, leaves her in a sleep-deprived state on top of studies for exams. As a Doctor, I know how grueling studies and exams can be. So I know that her lack of sleep isn’t helping in any way whatsoever to her studies. Any other stressful factors in her life? At home?” “Not that I’m aware of.” Gavin looked over at you but you only ducked your head out of his line of sight. He didn’t bother asking about any more stresses, knowing you wouldn’t be up to talking. The Doctor shifted on his feet as he came to a final conclusion. “I would prefer to keep her in overnight under observation. Prescribe a mild sedation to help her get a peaceful night’s rest.” “No!” Your small voice quickly interjected, shooting down the idea as your head snapped up and panicked eyes set upon the Doctor, “I want to go home.” Your E/C left the Doctor’s and fell on your boyfriend, silently begging him. “Please?” It was like a fist hand squeezed at Gavin’s heart and then proceeded to stab it against a sharp knife. Never, in the past two years of being with you, has he ever seen you look so broken before. His gaze dropped from yours and back to the Doctor, “Can I not bring her home?” “It is with my professional opinion that we do keep her in overnight.” “You are within your rights to go against medical advice, Detective.” Nines quietly spoke from the side, having noticed your stress levels increased drastically at the thought of staying here. His cold blue eyes seemed to have softened a little as he looked over at you before, also, dropping his gaze on the Doctor. “If I may interject, it might be beneficial to bring Y/N home. Her stress levels might decrease once she’s in a familiar environment that she deems comforting and safe. I can offer to stay the night to keep an eye on her levels. If they reach critical condition, we can bring her straight back.” And this is why Nines came along. He made a compelling argument against the Doctor whereas Gavin would’ve lost his temper. Nines could already see the panic flash in the Detective’s eyes with the thought of leaving a distraught girlfriend at the hospital overnight. That panic would immediately flicker to anger within the flick of a switch. “Very well. On the proviso that her levels are to be regularly scanned. If there are signs of no improvement, you are to bring her straight back.” “Of course.” It was settled then. The Nurse was called in by the Doctor to disconnect you from the being hooked up to the machines while Gavin walked out of the room (dropping a kiss on the top of your head with a murmured ‘Be right back’) so he could sign the DAMA form. (Discharged Against Medical Advice). Nines watched as everyone left the room, leaving you and the RK900 unit alone. You were still sitting on the bed and your gaze dropped to your hands in your lap. Under the ever-watchful gaze of Nines as his blue eyes studied you for a moment before breaking the silence. “You still seem quite withdrawn.” His tone was quite gentle, surprising you (though you didn’t show that you acknowledged his efforts) and also surprising him. You ducked your head further away from his gaze, your hair finally falling down around your face to obscure your features from view. “I don’t deserve him.” You whispered, your hands beginning to fidget, picking at your nails, rubbing your fingers together, fingernails pressing hard against your skin to the point where you were leaving little crescent moon indents. Your Mother’s words echoing loudly in your head. Unfortunately, your fall to the ground didn’t cause amnesia so you remembered everything about that phone-call. Your fidgeting was a sign that another panic attack was coming on and Nines seemed to have picked up on your stress levels as he came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. His larger hand reaching over and placing it over your fidgeting ones. A gentle squeeze of reassurance was given. “Quite the contrary Y/N. Gavin is the one who doesn’t deserve you. But I know he’s quite lucky to have you. I must say I’m grateful you’ve entered into his life. He’s become much less insufferable.” A very quiet whimper escaped your lips, that if the RK900 didn’t have highly incredible audio sensors, he would have easily missed it. He didn’t fully turn to you, remaining his usual professional self but when he felt two hands grip his tightly, he glanced down. Your fingers were white with how tightly you were holding on to him just as how tightly you were holding onto the lid of emotions that were threatening to spill forth. Ever so slightly, Nines leant forward a little – just a little, but enough for you to know he was silently offering an embrace if you needed it. And you did. You dropped your head into his shoulder and let out a deep sigh. “He could do so much better than me. I’m just…” you struggled to find the right words to describe just how despicable you are compared to many other successful and far more beautiful women out there are. “Perfect.” Nines supplied as his free hand wrapped around your upper arm/shoulder. “You are incorrect to state that he can do better than you. You are the better. Detective Reed is quite out of his league with you.” You merely scoffed at hearing this but the words were comforting to the voice that voice inside your head that was telling you otherwise. There was nothing more Nines could do or say. He wasn’t equipped to be dealing with psychological matters of a sensitive nature such as the situation you’re currently in, so he opted to remain silent and just hold you in this semi-embrace.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ Gavin had finished with the paperwork outside and stopped in his tracks as he walked past the window and saw Nines holding you. Kind of. It looked awkward to Gavin but you seemed content in the embrace. There was no pang of jealousy from Gavin at seeing Nines holding you (why would there be? Nines and you weren’t interested in each other like that), however, Gavin couldn’t help but marvel at how attached Nines had become to you. The RK900 became intrigued with your cheery personality and the way your presence seems to melt all the insufferable behavior away from Gavin. Yours and Nines friendship deepened the more you and Gavin hung out together with Nines, getting to the point where Nines would call you for advice either on Gavin or to do with women (what’s the best approach etc.) most likely related to crime cases with female victims since neither he nor Gavin were the best people to deal with emotionally distraught women. Sometimes you’d even ring Nines to ask about Gavin (if he came home in an exhausted or closed-off mood). Gavin would never have picked Nines to be the one to settle with a bond of friendship other than himself (not to sound vain). Phone ringing in his pocket, Gavin stepped away from the window – probably should give Nines privacy since always seems to be allergic to initiating (or participating) in physical interaction that isn’t violent. He didn’t even get a chance to greet the caller when Fowler’s voice immediately screamed down from the other end of the receiver. “Where the hell are you two!?” “Technically on our lunch break.” “Well get your asses back here and do some of that damn paperwork! It’s overflowing on your desk like Niagra-fucking-falls!” Normally Gavin would hit back with a quip that would leave others to wonder how the hell he hasn’t gotten himself fired yet, but instead his voice was oddly calm, probably because he was also in the hospital hallway. “I’m at the hospital. Something personal came up.” The voice on the other end dropped its raised tone as concern laced through, “Everything alright?” “Yeah. It’s just… personal. Gonna need a couple of days. Nines will be back tomorrow.” “S’fine, s’fine. It’s slow here anyway. Just keep me in the loop.” “Yeah… yeah, thanks.” “Take care, son.” With that, Gavin hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket, relieved that Captain Fowler didn’t pester with questions. It’s not like Gavin took days off anyway – only when forced to by the Captain himself. One of the excused had been; ‘Reed, you’ve been working non-stop and you’re pissing me off. Go home and stay home for a couple of days.’ He walked past the window to see Nines standing by the bed with his hands behind his back, awaiting for Gavin’s return, as though he hadn’t just shared a gentle embrace with Y/N. Stepping into the room, Gavin walked over and placed a hand on the back of your shoulder in a gentle touch, “C’mon.” his voice so soft that if you weren’t in such a state, it would’ve melted your heart. Hands wrapped tightly around your arms as though you were giving yourself a hug, you leaned into Gavin’s side as he guided you out of the room with his arm around your mid-back. Nines following behind as he watched the two of you. You still seem quite withdrawn and quiet. Your levels seemingly decreased since leaving the room and Nines was satisfied he put forth the offer to bring you home. It was silent as they walked out of the hospital and to the car. Gavin occasionally peering over at you but you kept your head down with your gaze on the ground. He felt so out of his depth right now. He was worried about you, actually worried about you. And because he was so worried about you, he worried further that he would say the wrong thing or not be able to help you. He was gentle and kind with you, but he was still the blunt-speaking Detective he’d always been. It didn’t help that this is the first time you’ve ever been this bad. The worst you’ve ever done was breakdown and cry while stressed. All of which can be fixed with hugs and soft murmurs. That was easy. This wasn’t. This required a gentle and fragile approach. Something that Gavin will truly fuck up somehow. Yet the figure following behind them thought otherwise. Had he been able to hear Gavin’s thoughts, Nines would reassure him that he is the perfect person to handle this. Nines has witnessed the true gentleman that Gavin is when he’s around you. He knows Gavin is capable of empathy and sensitivity. Unlocking the car, Gavin opened the door for the backseat behind the driver, his hand leaving your back as you lowered into the seat. He left the door open momentarily as he popped the trunk of the car and pulled out the blanket you made him keep in their in case of emergencies. - “You don’t even have a first aid kit in your car?!” you queried as you and Gavin made your first shopping trip together and were placing grocery bags in the back of the car. “No. Why would I?” “Gavin! You’re a Detective!” “So?” “So…shouldn’t you have one!?…what if someone was in trouble?” “That’s what paramedics are for Y/N.” “You’ve got first aid training, right?” “Yeah they make us do that shit every two to three years.” “Well you ought to have a first aid kit in the back of your car in case of emergencies. It’s only a matter of moments between life and death for some. Paramedics may not arrive in time and you could be the one to make that difference.” Gavin went quiet for a moment as he mulled over the point you made, sighing excessively loudly (which made you giggle because it was one of those defeated sighs where he knew you were right and rather than telling you you’re right, he just sighed it out.) “Alright. I’ll get one if it’ll make you happy.” “And a blanket.” “Why the fuck would someone need a blanket?” “In case of situations like shock, or it’s in freezing cold temperatures.” Another sigh and then a defeated, “Fine. Fine. You win. But you better kiss me for this.” You grinned and did as he asked, leaning over you brushed your lips against before his hand pressed against your lower back, pulling you against him as his lips captured yours. “Mm, that’s what I thought.” He murmured. You could feel his grin through the kiss and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh against his lips. - Nines ever-observant eyes watched with curiosity as Gavin retrieved the blanket from the trunk of the car, shaking it out of its folded-up state and brought it around to you. It smelt a bit musty from being cooped up in the dark back of his trunk but you didn’t mind as he draped it over you. “Guess you were right, huh?” he smiled softly as he tugged it around your sides. You could only nod. It was like you hit such a numb state. You couldn’t share in his humor, you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate his smile. You could only be glad that you did something right for once. With your door finally closed and you were safely situated in the backseat, Nines finally moved from his spot and slid into the passenger seat just as Gavin slid into the driver’s seat. Unlike when he and Nines left the Precinct, Gavin was much more careful in reversing and driving out of the hospital carpark. Mostly because you were in the vehicle. The drive home was quiet. Gavin constantly checking his rearview mirror to keep an eye on you. Occasionally you both made eye contact and you would always look away in shame. He deserved so much better than you. Perhaps your mother was right. Look how you’re inconveniencing him. He’s had to take time off work because of you. “Would you like me to inform Captain Fowler of your sudden absence?” Nines quietly asked, purposefully keeping his voice at a gentle lull so as to not disturb you. “I’ve already called him. Said you were coming in tomorrow though.” Eyes focused on the road, Gavin answered Nines without breaking concentration, his voice equally quiet. “Is that wise? An agreement was made between the Doctor and myself that I would ensure Y/N’s safety outside Hospital Grounds.” “So? S’not like you got it in writing.” “No. I did, however, record the conversation.” “Without his consent? Why, Nines, you devil, you.” Gavin quietly joked. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the statement, deeming an action unnecessary, Nines decided to correct the name-calling, “I’m an android, not a devil. Regardless, that agreement still stands.” “Look, Nines, we’re about to crack this case. Let’s face it, you’ll work quicker when I’m not there. You got Anderson and that annoying plastic prick as backup.” Gavin turned the corner and was only now three streets from arriving home. “Very well.” You heard the entire conversation, they weren’t being quiet in an attempt for you not to overhear, they were being quiet out of respect for your already quiet state. But you did readjust yourself, sinking further beneath the blanket and leaning your head against the window. The hum of the vehicle’s engine, the flickering of the indicator and the quietened toned voices that were usually loud and bickering (mostly Gavin instigating the arguments) was enough to make you drowsy with the heavy onslaught of emotions you were fighting back. ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ You hadn’t realized you were home until your door opened and you jerked in surprise. “Shit, sorry babe. You okay?” You hummed softly as you undid your seatbelt and climbed out of the car with the blanket wrapped around you. Immediately Gavin’s arm came around the small of your back and guided you up to the house. “Would you like a cup of tea Y/N? I’ve heard herbal teas are beneficial in calming ones nerves.” Nines asked as he followed up behind you and Gavin, hands behind his back. You only shook your head, “I think I just want to go to sleep.” You muttered and felt Gavin’s hand rub your back in comfort. The small home that you and Gavin shared was always warm and welcoming. Unlike bare yet always messy apartment Gavin had prior to you coming on the scene. There were artwork on the wall, photos in frames displayed on different types of shelving, alongside little ornaments that you and Gavin collected over time. Mostly things you found cute whenever you would visit a market or something. Occasionally something on display would be from Gavin; “I saw this and thought you might like it.” Had been his way of telling you he’s thinking of you and taking an interest in what you like. And because he wanted to spoil you with something you’d like personally rather than just the average gift of jewelry.

Gavin took you down the hall while Nines stayed in the living room, waiting Gavin’s return. “How are you feeling?” Gavin murmured as he shut the bedroom door and walking around you to pull back the blankets of the bed on your side. You merely raised your shoulders in a small shrug. Today had escalated drastically for you; physically, mentally and emotionally. You climbed into the bed, still wrapped in the blanket from the car as an additional comfort. You snuggled down with the blanket being tugged right up around your chin by Gavin. He had no idea what the fuck to do but he could only hope this would work. His hand came down to rest on the curve of where your hip was hidden beneath the blanket as he crouched down on his quarters. His other arm resting above your head as his fingers gently caressed your hair from your forehead. “What the hell happened to you today, Y/N/N?” “I don’t know… stress, I guess.” “I’ve seen you stressed, babe. This isn’t that. There’s something more. Something you’re not telling me. What is it?” Damn him and his Detective skills, able to pinpoint when someone wasn’t telling the truth. You licked your lips in nervousness as you stared at his grey orbs. “Can I ask you something Gavin?” “Yeah. ‘Course.” “Do I…Do I, um… Do I…” your voice wavered as you stammered your words, the remaining question was whispered because you were barely holding on now, “disgust you? Make you ashamed to be with me?” His fingers stopped their ministrations, his face twisting into a mix of disbelief and anger. “What the fuck Y/N?! No! Where the hell did this all come from?” Just like that, the gates to the dam opened and the tears fell uncontrollably from your eyes, your own features twisting into so much hurt that it tugged painfully at Gavin’s heartstrings, already filling with anger and who caused you to be so distraught. A sob broke out and you turned your face into the pillow, away from his gaze as your body violently trembled beneath each sob that tore out. “Shit. Hey, hey, hey…S’alright. It’s alright.” Gavin quickly moved to sit in the small space on the edge of the bed. Everything that had built up for weeks, only for the phone call from your mother to finally be that tipping point for you came bursting out. You felt one hand grip whatever part of you he could reach, and the other caressing the material of the blanket that was covering your body. “I’ve got you, babe. I got you. You’re alright. ‘M right here.” Soft words were murmured as he continued to caress your back in comfort but his efforts hadn’t even managed to calm you down at all. “Babe, can you look at me?” “No….” you wailed into the pillow, curling further in on yourself. Quietly adding an “I can’t!” between sobs. Your cries were really getting to Gavin and he had to find the strength not to explode in anger and hunt down whoever it was that hurt you like this. “’M right here Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.” Gavin’s voice rose a little to be heard over the volume of your cries but still, somehow, remained a gentle tone about it. He barely managed to catch it but he heard it loud and clear, “I’m a disappointment.” “Who said that?” “Everyone! My boss! Customers! My own M-Mom!” Gavin was well aware what your mother was like. What your family was like. They expected too much from you and had you at high standards that were impossible for you to achieve. Not everyone was built to become a surgeon or a firefighter, or even a Detective. At first, he tried to reason with himself that they just wanted the best for you but it was clear that they bullied you – and he swore that sometimes they would do it for fun. He lost all respect for your family and wanted to shield you away from them as best as he could without it falling into the ‘possessive/alienating’ category of being in a relationship. It was part of the reason he asked you to move in with him. Give you an offer of a new life. Hopefully ceasing as much contact with the toxicity of your family. “God-fucking-damnit!” The curse fell past his lips before he could even catch it, startling you and causing you to curl into a tight ball – how that was even possible, he had no idea. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything!” “Fuck. No. I… No, I’m not mad at you… Fuck, babe… I, uh…” His hand hovered midair, debating whether continuing to offer you comfort was the right course of action. He had sent you into such a pleading state with his verbal outburst, he didn’t want to be the one to add to that. “I’m not worth it. Any of it. You deserve better than me.” Without thinking, his hand came down and rested firmly on your shoulder. Sliding off the bed, he resumed his position of crouching down to peer at you since you were curled into a tight fetal position. “No.” he firmly stated. “You are worth everything to me, Y/N. Everything. Don’t you dare think you’re not.” He dropped his head, muttering under his breath, “I’m going to fucking kill that woman.” It was no use. Whatever Gavin said to you, you only cried through his words. You hadn’t meant to be so rude but you couldn’t calm down. This was years and years of your Mother’s verbal abuse coming out. The more you cried, the more Gavin swore bloody murder. It was hard; he wasn’t the type of guy who knew the right things to say. He was far from the ‘ideal perfect boyfriend’ that women seem to desire. But he was doing all he could, and all that he knew how. That also includes staying with you until you fell asleep. Your body stopped trembling but his hand never ceased those comforting motions against your frame. Gentle hushing every now and then emitted past those lips that were known to swear like a sailor and argue with anything that moves. Gavin had since resumed his original position; crouched by the bedside, one hand caressing the hair back from your now tear-stained face, the other rubbing circular motions in comfort – which had now ceased to where his thumb was just gentle caressing while his hand remained firmly against the curve of your hip. He waited until you were asleep before he left, gently tugging the blankets around you, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form – features now relaxed and set into a peaceful slumber as if you didn’t just suffer a massive breakdown. The moment he turned from you, however, there was a murderous rage in those stormy grey orbs of his. Quietly shutting the door behind him, he walked out to Nines who was holding a framed photo of the three of them. This was definitely your doing. Gavin would never place photos up, particularly personal ones. But you insisted, and you really adored the one of you three. It was just a dumb selfie at the beach with your faces squished together in order to fit in the frame. It was silly, and one of the very rare times that Nines stepped out of his level of comfort from his professional appearance to just be ‘normal’. His LED was circling the soft amber glow, occasionally red would flicker through. He was quite concerned about you. Particularly when he heard the heartbroken wails filter through the shut door. Audio components picking up some of the conversation as he eavesdropped a little, however, he decided that this was one of those times where you could not be comforted. A shame that you weren’t under hospital care, they could have given you a sedation to avoid the mess of emotions. Perhaps with the decent night sleep, you could wake up feeling more refreshed and a stronger state of mind to begin the day’s problems. Which is what he hoped would work for you now. Hearing the door click shut, he placed the photo back on the shelf and waited for Gavin to reappear. “How is Y/N?” Gavin didn’t even look at Nines as he pulled out his phone from his pocket and thumb began scrolling through the screen of contacts. “Cried herself to sleep. Fuck all I could do for her.” “Surprisingly her cortisol levels are back to a regular state but there’s been a significant drop in her serotonin levels.” Nines reported as he followed Gavin into the kitchen. Glancing up from his phone in annoyance, wanting to just get the person he was looking for on the phone and rip into them. “What?! English, Nines.” “I was speaking English, Detective. To put it simply, her stress levels are back to normal but she’s taken quite the plunge with her happiness.” “Yeah, no shit Sherlock. You seen the state she’s in? She’s far from happy. She’s hurtin’ Nines. And there’s fuck all I can do for her. And this wouldn’t have happened if her fucking mother kept her goddamn mouth shut.” “I’m afraid I’m not following.” “I couldn’t get much out of her but…” Gavin went on to explain just the real level of nastiness your Mother can be. And whenever there’s a family get-together, they all put their two-cents worth it. And not in a supportive manner either. They were jabs, accusations, insults, remarks… playground bullying that was clearly taking it’s toll on you. “…Which is why I asked her to move in with me. To get her away from all this bullshit as much as I can.” “I see.” “Enough’s enough. This ends now.” Phone gripped in his fist, pointer finger came out and jabbed at the air towards the ground, emphasis his words before he extended his arm out and pointed towards the door of where you were sleeping, “Because the next time this happens, I don’t want to get a phone call saying Y/N’s topped herself.” Nines would have interjected, maybe offered for Gavin to calm down while making an irrational phone call but from what he had just been informed with regarding your family, well… they had this coming. Nines was standing by for… moral support. And to also make sure Gavin doesn’t say something stupid that could jeopardize your relationship with him or his job as an officer of the law. Finally hitting the green call button on his phone, Gavin waited for your Mother to pick up. When the line connected, he offered no greeting and go straight to the point,

“What did you say to her?!” “Nothing that any other Mother wouldn’t give advice to their child.” “You call that advice!? Do you have any idea what you’ve fucking done!?” “I gave her a reality check, Mr. Reed. Get her to pull her head in and do something good with her life.” “No. You gave her a hospital check. You’ve fucked her up.” “Excuse me?” “You heard me, lady. Every time I manage to bring her to where she can finally see her own worth, you bring her right back to the fucking ground again. And this time she landed in the fucking hospital!” Gavin’s finger never ceased the jabbing in midair with every point he made. If only the Mother could see how close Gavin was to losing his shit, perhaps she’d actually shut up and listen to him. “That’s at no-one’s fault but her own.” “No, that’s at your own fucking fault. If you were a decent mother and supported her -” “Y/N has had this fantasy dream since she was a child. It’s time she outgrew it and got a proper job.” “Since when is wanting to own to a business a fucking fantasy?! She can do it. She has the smarts to but you keep fucking her up.” At this point, Nines yanked the phone out of Gavin’s clutches when the Detective’s began to rise and his anger would be to blame for waking you up, which is something that Nines wanted to avoid. You needed the sleep and listening to Gavin scream down the other line of the phone would only stress you out further. Placing the communications device to ear, a much more calmer tone greeted the line, “Good evening Mrs Y/L/N. What my colleague is trying to convey is that one Y/N has successfully surpassed her examinations, she has a solid proposal to put forth to the bank and town-council officials. There is a 15% she will be knocked back, but that is a very low percentile so I highly doubt she will become the failure that you are clearly so worried about. I understand that every parent wishes for their child to succeed. Your concern is admirable but the unsolicited advice is not. I suggest that if you cannot be as supportive of her as her own boyfriend and his work colleagues down at the Detroit City Police Department, perhaps it is best if you minimalize your contact with Y/N. I assure you that your daughter has people in her corner to support her, people that you ought to be wary of the next time you break the law. Because the next time you bring Y/N down again, we will bring you down the next time you break the law, regardless of how small it is. Good day Mrs. L/N.” Just as well that Nines took over from the phone call. Had it been Gavin, he would’ve been screaming down the line with a much worse threat; ‘Break Y/N again, and I’ll break your fucking face.” Gavin temper can get away from him particularly when it involves you. Before your mother could get a word in, Nines hung up the phone and looked over at Gavin whose mouth was slightly agape before they turned into a snarl as he took his phone back. “She got off lightly if you ask me.” “Yes, well the alternative is against the law.” “Tch.” “It would be advisable that you also retrieve Y/N’s phone in case the mother tries to contact her while she’s recovering.” “Fuck. Yeah… Yeah, I’ll do that.” Instead of doing as Nines advised, Gavin grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, some pain relief from the top of the fridge and then rummaged around one of the top drawers in the kitchen. Grabbing a marker and a piece of notepad paper, he quickly scribbled something on it before gathering everything and making his way down the hallway to the bedroom. Quietly opening the door, he made an effort to be quiet with his steps as he set down his phone beside yours so he could unload the rest of his items; placing the bottle of water down, the packet of pain relief tablets in case you awake with a headache or any other aches from today. Lastly, the little note that simply said; ‘Love you X.’

Despite the murderous anger that had consumed him earlier, it all melted when he saw you curled up beneath the covers. One of these days he was going to marry you. If you’ll have him, that is. He can only hope he’d make a decent husband to you. Leaning down, lips softly kissed your temple, gaze lingering on you for a moment, flames of fierce protection flickered around Gavin’s heart, who was prepared to burn anyone whoever dare hurt you like this. Grabbing both phones, he left the room and quietly shut the door behind him. ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ He found Nines in the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee made for Gavin, knowing the Detective would be in dire need of something after the stressful few hours. Sitting at one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, Gavin groaned and rubbed his face as Nines took your phone and switched it off completely before sliding it back to Gavin. “Nines? Uh… listen – uh, thanks for everything today. Didn’t mean to rope you in with all this shit.” “You’re quite welcome. I’m just relieved to know that Y/N is home.” “Yeah. Me too.” A quiet moment transpired between them as Gavin sipped away at his coffee and Nines running his regular internal checks with his system. “’M gonna marry her Nines.” The statement came as no surprise to Nines, he was well aware how smitten Gavin was for you, but he hadn’t expected to see the tips of Gavin’s ears turn pink at the statement. Gavin’s face was turned slightly from Nines’ complete view, but Nines knew this was something that Gavin was embarrassed to confess but clearly wanted to open up to Nines about. “I know, Detective.”

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

It was close to 8 months since you successfully graduated from your university. Gavin and Nines were both there to see you accept your certificate, they were both there when you signed documents and contracts for various things. Gavin wanted to be there for every crucial moment for you, and Nines wanted to be there to ensure that you weren’t getting screwed over by what was stated in the contracts and documents.

It was the evening before the bookstore opening and everything was in place. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be a grand opening of sorts so Gavin didn’t book the day off; having booked quite a number of days off already with wanting to be there for the other stuff in the past few days. So, he decided to take you out to dinner tonight. Or so you thought. He came home early so he could have a shower and get ready while you also had time to do your hair and makeup, wearing the dress that you knew drew him wild. It wasn’t your intention to tease him but you also know he’s been stressed with work but has also been there for you with everything… you knew there was only one way to show your appreciation… but that was for after dinner. You hadn’t even left the house yet, let alone the bedroom when two large hands had your hips pinned against the wall. You let out a small gasp and arched against him with a small hum. His lips trailing from your cheek and down your jawline, “You look delicious babe.” One of your hands rested on his forearm, the other trailed up the nape of his neck, fingers pressing against the smaller parts of his hair. “Dinner first and then dessert.” “I’d rather have you for dinner.” Came the husky murmur against your ear as his hands gripped your hips and pressed his own against yours, feeling the slight bulge in his pants. You forced yourself to hold back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how much you really want to cave and give him what he wants. “And not dessert? Shame. Dessert’s always the best part.” You teased, tilting your head sideways for his lips to have better access. He refused to kiss your lips because he didn’t want to mess up your makeup. “Can’t I have both?” he groaned out but forced himself to pull away, especially if he wants tonight to go as planned; which didn’t exactly interfere with your plans but will definitely delay them somewhat. His lust-filled green eyes stared at yours as a finger gently hooked under your chin, thumb very lightly caressed across your dark red painted lips. “You really are fucking beautiful, you know that, right?” Luckily the blush you were wearing covered up the natural heat of your cheeks at his compliment. “I do now.” You murmured softly as your gaze met his and your lips smiled softly. You had no idea how much Gavin worshipped the ground you walked on, adored you in every single aspect of the word. At the same time, he was your entire world to you. He may not look like it, but he was the epitome of a gentleman to you. You’ve been told by so many that he’s an absolute asshole at work (granted he’s calmed down since he’d been dating you) but you just can’t see it. Smiling, you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and leaned back, thumb wiping away the lipstick residue left on his cheek. “And you, Detective Reed, are quite the charmer.” If he could wink, he would, but he’d given up trying ages ago. Instead, his lips turned up into a smirk and his hand connected with the curve of your ass. “C’mon.” Gavin took you both to the bookstore first. Night was falling and you could only make out the sign by the street lamps; ‘Cozy Book Nook Store’ a name that suited the theme of the bookstore you designed. Even with the curtains drawn, the windows and signage already had a welcoming and cozy tone. Gavin had wanted to see the final product before anyone else when the doors opened tomorrow. Unlocking the door, you flicked some of the lights and let him in. He wondered around a little, taking it all in. Mind, he’s been coming in every few days to see the progress, spending his weekends dedicated to helping you unbox books and placing them on the shelves. But he knows you’ve been working hard nonstop between then and now, adding the finishing touches and such. You quietly stood to the side, hands clasped together in front of you as you watched his reaction. Did it look good? Did you do a good job at setting it up? It was a rustic themed look inside with little nooks lit up by soft fairy lights where people could sit and read. Eventually you were going to incorporate a hot chocolate machine but that also came with a lot of pros and cons, and not quite in budget at the moment. “This looks amazing! You nervous?” he turned as he watched you walk over to him, forcing himself to keep his eyes on yours and not wander down to the curve of your hips as they sway while you walked. “Excited mostly, but yeah, a little nervous.” “You know I’m proud of you, babe. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He glanced around at the store before his gaze landed back on yours. “You achieved all this on your own.” “Well, I can’t take all the credit. You helped too.” “Hm, I think I mostly got in the way.” There was one weekend where Gavin kept slapping your ass as he walked past while you were bent over some books or boxes, a couple of times you both fooled around too. It was basically a wasted weekend because Gavin clearly had other things on his mind. He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. “You’ve come a long way Y/N. You should be proud of yourself. I am. I am so fucking proud of you, you have no idea. I know things weren’t easy. But I will always be there for you. And I…” Gavin had wanted to say something romantic, something that would sweep you off your feet but he wasn’t capable of doing that. He still struggles to open up on a heart-to-heart level at times. Instead, his free hand disappeared into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small square box. Before you even had time to process anything, he was down on one knee, still holding your hand while managing to flick the box open to reveal a beautiful gold diamond ring. “I would be even more proud to call you my wife. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He had every intention of asking you to marry him regardless of whether you graduated or not. If you didn’t graduate, it would give him the opportunity to whisk you away for a weekend to help forget your troubles, to propose even if it means you don’t become the successful bookstore owner you’ve always dreamed of being. Whether you were an assistant, or at a ‘menial’ job like retail or at Starbucks… he’d still be proud to call you his wife. But when you graduated and bought the building that was only a block away from the Precinct (expect a lot of visits from Gavin, sometimes Nines too, on his lunchbreak), he knew the perfect way to propose to you; When your Bookstore was all set up and ready to open. “I… Gavin are you sure?” “I’m on my knees, asking. I’m pretty sure Y/N.” “No, I meant… my family aren’t exactly –” “I’m well aware of your family and I would really rather not talk about them while I’m trying to ask you to marry me here.” You laughed softly at accidentally leaving him in limbo like that. But your laughter soon turned into tears of happiness as you sobbed out a “Yes.” Being a physically active Detective, he was able to unexpectedly brace himself as you lunged your body against him. Arms coming around his neck while you kissed whatever part of him you could. “Oh my god, yes!” Still holding the box, his arms snaked around your lower back as he held you to him, his lips managing to catch yours in a tender but deep kiss in the middle of your bookstore.

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years

Text

Um, I Don’t Think So

Request/Synopsis: Reader is Tony Stark’s daughter and secretly dating Peter. One day, they accidentally let it slip that they’re together.

Warnings: Swearing

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Peter Parker

A/N: I love this, that’s all I gotta say. In this, Pepper is the reader’s mother! Also, Peter’s such a lovable dork, he deserves the world. Anywho, as always, gif isn’t mine and my inbox is always open! xx Enjoy!

You found yourself launched into a complicated situation once again. Your boyfriend, Peter, had now officially-unofficially joined the Avengers and was being mentored by your dad in jus about every possible way. You loved their closeness, really, you did. You know your dad was extremely important to Peter in so many ways, having lost his father figure a while ago. So, your dad took him under his wing, making him a new suit and helping him buckle in for life as a superhero.

Of course, there was one thing that tainted this perfect image. Your dad didn’t exactly know about your relationship. No one did, really. It was a huge secret that would definitely end in a long talk with your father about boys and your mom would probably pester you into telling her everything. You loved your parents dearly, but you weren’t sure you were ready to introduce Peter as your boyfriend to your family and the team just yet.

“You seem lost in thought,” Natasha grinned, her face mask cracking as she did so, “Definitely about a boy.”

“Oooh, do tell,” Wanda sat upright, dropping the magazine she was reading.

You scoffed, turning away, thankful that the charcoal face mask you had on covered your blushing, “I’m not thinking about a boy.” You loved your girls nights with Wanda and Natasha dearly, but damn, these girls were observant.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you know you can’t lie to us,” Wanda said with a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. One thing you hated about her observance was that she had a habit of looking inside your head to see what was up. You had told her off countless times, but you’re almost certain she still did it from time to time. One of the reasons she was impossible to lie to. You were surprised she didn’t let slip you and Peter were dating, you were almost certain she knew.

“I’m not!” You defended, “Why would I even be thinking about a guy anyways, I’m too busy watching Judge Judy.” You played it off, shrugging your shoulders and turning back to the TV as Nat chuckled.

“I’m practically the definition of liar, honey,” she remarked, “I know when I see one.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to face her, “C’mon, don’t you think that if there was a guy you two would be the first people to know?” Nat and Wanda exchanged a glance, shrugging slightly, “Besides, you know my dad doesn’t let me go 20 feet near a guy who isn’t an Avenger anyways.”

“It’s Steve!” Wanda pointed a finger at you, and you choked back a laugh.

“Steve?! What? He’s like, a hundred years old,” you laughed at her accusation, and Nat rolled her eyes, realizing that that was absurd.

Wanda realized it too and shrugged, leaning back down on the bed and picking up the magazine she was reading previously, scanning through the pages once again. Nat got up and walked to the bathroom, taking the towel out of her hair, so you turned your attention back to the television, watching Judge Judy roast some stupid people arguing about a car. You felt a buzz in your back pocket and pulled your phone out, fighting a blush when you read the message.

Spider Boy - Hey, babe, your dad invited me for dinner at the compound tonight so I’ll see you then, love you. xo

You grinned to yourself, already excited to see him, and quickly sent a reply.

Can’t wait, love you. x

You rushed to the bathroom and took off your face mask, feeling incredibly satisfied when you could move your face easily once again.

“Sorry, guys, dad texted me, gotta go see him, bye!” You rushed out the door, waving to the two girls who looked puzzled but didn’t get a chance to say anything before you were rushing down the hall to your room. The drive for Peter was about an hour and a half, and you wanted to get ready right away.

“Hey, kiddo,” You nearly ran straight into your dad while turning the corner as he stood in front of your door, “Dinner tonight, everyone’s coming, just letting you know. We need a good... bonding experience after what’s happened recently.”

You nodded quickly, excitement running through your veins, “Of course, I understand totally!” You turned the doorknob to open it, stepping inside your gorgeous room. The large queen sized bed sat next to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water, the Manhattan skyline in the distance. You rushed to your closet, throwing off your baggy sweatshirt (that was actually Peter’s but no one had to know) and shorts, scanning through your closet to find something to wear.

You pulled out a pair of jeans and a lace tank top, not wanting to seem too over the top or else people would get suspicious. As soon as you got dressed and started analyzing yourself in the mirror, your phone buzzed from the bed. You rushed over as saw you had a new text.

Natasha - You took off quickly, girlie, you know we weren’t done with questions!

You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly before answering the nosy redhead.

Dad needed me! Dinner with the whole squad tonight, gotta prepare. No more questions!

You threw your phone back down on the bed, rushing to the bathroom to put on some makeup. Once you were done, you took your hair down from the bun it was in and grabbed your phone, rushing out to the living room. It had only taken you half an hour to get ready, so you still had to wait at least another half. You walked over to the couch and noticed Bucky and Sam arguing over what to watch as your mom, dad, and Bruce were cooking up a storm in the kitchen.

“Sam, I swear to god, I am going to knock your teeth out,” Bucky let out a frustrated groan as Sam changed the channel once again.

“I am sick of watching freakin’ National Geographic documentaries, man!” Sam reached for the remote as Bucky changed it once again. You let out a small laugh, thoroughly entertained by these two. They acted like brothers, and to you, they felt like brothers. You were forever blessed to have these people surrounding you.

“Y/N, come on, would you rather watch a show about bugs or ESPN?” Sam looked over to you, causing you to raise your hands in surrender.

“Not my argument, boys,” you shook your head, causing Sam to groan and Bucky to defend himself.

“It wasn’t a show about bugs, you dipshit!”

You were about to reply that you’d rather watch bugs than sports, but your dad announcing Peter’s arrival made all of your attention turn to the front door, where Peter stood with flowers in his hand. He was wearing a button up shirt and dress pants, a little bowtie around his neck. He looked absolutely adorable, and if this relationship wasn’t a secret, you’d run up and plant little kisses all over his face. Your dad greeted him with a firm pat on the back and welcomed him in, but his eyes were fixed on you. You hated this secret thing, wanting nothing more than to greet him properly, but you knew it was for the best.

“Who are the flowers for, kid? Me?” Sam asked, making Peter blush slightly as he shook his head, laughing awkwardly.

“You wish,” he responded, making Sam act offended, “They’re for you, Mrs Stark, thank you for the dinner invitation,” Peter walked over to your mother, handing her a gorgeous bouquet of roses and sunflowers, which to you was the most beautiful combination of flowers you could get. Your mother awed at the gesture, pulling Peter in for a hug. You felt your heart melt, loving how your parents got along with your boyfriend. Your dad nodded in approval, helping your mom find a vase for the flowers as Peter walked up to you, taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at you, taking your breath away at how gorgeous this little dork was.

“Hey, Peter,” you replied, looking away when you realized Sam and Bucky were watching your interaction, not wanting to be suspicious or obvious.

“Parker, would you rather watch a show on bugs or sports?” Sam asked, leaning forward as if he were interrogating Peter, making you roll your eyes, looking over to Peter who seemed a little confused, “Actually, forget it, you’re a bug, of course you’re biased.” You felt yourself laughing, looking over to Peter who didn’t know what to say, nodding awkwardly. Sam let out a groan of defeat and turned the channel back to Nat Geo, making Bucky let out a ‘humph’ of triumph.

As the two continued bickering, Peter leaned over to you, whispering in your ear, “You look beautiful, babe.” You felt your cheeks heat up and you looked over to him, smiling shyly.

“You look pretty damn good yourself, Parker,” you whispered back with a little wink, making him grin.

Within the next hour, all of the Avengers had piled into the dining room and you were all seated around the long glass table, the food making your stomach grumble louder than you had expected. You didn’t eat lunch, so that explains it. You sat between your dad and Wanda, who was being embarrassingly flirty with Vision sitting next to her. Peter sat across from her and your mother across from you.

Everyone dug in immediately, the smell and look of the layout being too tempting to hold off on. You could hear Bucky and Sam arguing over potatoes at the end of the table, resulting in Steve scolding them like children, making you giggle.

“Um, anyone want a drink? I’m getting up,” Peter announced, standing up and looking around the table, waiting for a reply. Everyone mumbled a ‘thanks, I’m good.’

“I’ll actually have glass of water, thanks, if you don’t mind,” you smiled up at Peter and he nodded.

“Sure thing, babe.”

Oh, no. Fuck. Shit.

Please, please, can no one have heard that?

You felt your heart completely stop as your eyes widened, looking at Peter who went completely white. It was as if time had slowed, everyone stopping what they were doing to see if they had heard correctly, and based on both your reactions, they did.

“Babe?” Your dad questioned, placing his knife down as he looked between the two of you, “Uh, I don’t think so. Please tell me he didn’t say babe.” Your mom’s mouth dropped, looking over at you with a confused expression. Oh, God. This was not how you wanted them to find out.

“O-Of course not, M-Mr Stark,” Peter laughed awkwardly, waving his hands, “Why - Why would I call her babe?”

You dropped your head, Peter’s nervous stuttering being a dead giveaway of the fact that you two were in fact a thing. You lifted your head once again when you heard your dad’s chair pull away from the table, standing up. You rushed to your feet as well, eyes wide.

“Dad, calm down,” you pleaded quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Your heart went from being dead still to racing out of your chest. Peter looked absolutely terrified.

“Calm down? How do you expect me to-” he took a deep breath, “What’s going on between you two?”

You wanted to answer, you really did, but as soon as he asked the question, your voice left you, and you looked to Peter.

“U-Um, we’re, uh, dating, Mr. Stark,” he mumbled quietly, looking down to his feet before looking back up. From where your hand was placed on your dad’s shoulder, you could feel him tense up. You knew he was mad, his breaths coming out slightly shaky as your mom placed a hand on his from where she was sitting, looking down at her plate.

You heard Nat mumble an ‘I told you so’ to Wanda, realizing that telling them today would have probably helped how bad you felt right now.

Your dad turned to face you, and you felt awful, “Dad, I’m so sorry for keeping this from you, I-”

“How long has this been going on?”

You were surprised by how intensely he cut you off, but you swallowed your nerves, “Around six months.”

“Six - Wow, six months, nice,” he laughed sarcastically, “You’re my daughter, you’re not supposed to lie to me.”

You suddenly felt very aware that the entire team was watching and listening to you guys, but you didn’t really care, your dad’s anger being the only thing you wanted to deal with, “I know, dad, I’m so, so sorry, believe me, I am. I wanted to tell you as soon as it happened, believe me, but this is going so well and I was terrified of telling you and mom, I’ve never really done this dating thing before, you guys know that, and I really, really care about Peter and I didn’t want you guys to flip out, I was waiting for the right moment.”

You dad chuckled, “The right moment? It’s been six fucking months, you’ve had loads of right moments.” You felt your heart break, and as you opened your mouth to respond, Peter’s voice beat yours.

“If I may, Mr. Stark, she’s telling the truth, she was always talking about how awful she felt hiding this from you, she refers to the two of you as her best friends,” you heard Natasha mumble an ‘ouch’ before Peter continued, “But believe me, I love your daughter, more than I could ever tell her, and I would die trying to protect her, you need to know that this isn’t just a teenager fling, or whatever, I’m in love with her.”

You felt all the air leave your lungs as he said that last sentence, looking right into your eyes, letting you feel all of the emotions he could possibly express towards you in that moment. It was almost as if everyone else in the room had faded away, the two of you sharing this extremely intimate moment. But then you remembered that everyone was sharing this moment with you.

“Aw, shit, you can’t be mad at him after that, Tony,” Sam exclaimed from the other end of the table, cutting the sweet moment short as your dad turned to him with a death glare, his expression softening as he looked to you once again.

“I’m mad, yes, I can’t believe you totally disobeyed my orders about not dating anyone on the team,” he said softly, coming to his senses.

You gave him a mischievous smile, “I’m a Stark, we don’t listen to what people want us to do.” You were immediately engulfed in a hug, your mother rushing around the table to join in as you laughed, the rest of the team letting out an ‘awe.’

You pulled away from them and smiled at Peter, who stood there awkwardly, but you could tell he was extremely relieved, the colour returning to his face and his shoulders much more relaxed. He looked over at your dad, nodding.

“Well, Peter, I guess if I had to pick anyone for my daughter to date, I’m glad it’s you,” your dad smiled at him as your mom rushed to the other side of the table to hug Peter, mumbling something about ‘love birds.’

Everything seemed to fall right into place, you could be open about your relationship with the boy you loved, and everyone on the team seemed overjoyed. Steve grinned proudly, Natasha shot you a wink and a thumbs up, sending you a text saying ‘We need to talk!’, Sam and Bucky smirked at Peter, who rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, Clint placed a hand over his heart, muttering about young love, and your dad sat next to you, smiling proudly as he realized that you were with someone good, someone that he knew would take care of you.

You sat back down, a sigh leaving your body as the cat was finally out of the bag, “Anyways, Parker, I’ll have that water now, thanks.”

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faunusrights · 4 years

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 19

IN THIS EPISODE OF MURPHY IS SCREAMING, CONSTANTLY, TRAPPED IN THEIR PERFECT NIGHTMARE:

Glynda was saying: “I know we aren’t friends. I know we aren’t partners. I know you’re a criminal. But—I think I can trust you. I think I have to trust you, even if you’ve done awful things before.”

EVERYTHING GOES WRONG BUT LIKE SOMEHOW WORSE THAN EVER? LIKE A WHOLE NEW BRAND OF LOW. LIKE CINDER’S GOT A PICKAXE AND THE CENTRE OF THE PLANET CALLS FOR AID.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE HUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but dw offal hunt, like the rising of the sun, the arrival of winter, and the eventual downfall of capitalism, always returns. so lets go.

(i just quickly reread chapter 18 liveblog to remember what happened and Ah Yes I Remember Now. The Suppressed Memories)

The place was emptier without Glynda. Quieter.

/gunshot oh we’re in danger right out of the gate huh? we got some yearning right out here? right now? how quickly the turn do tables.

Cinder appraised her work, holding the beige coat up to the light and squinting.

man i forgot. i FORGET. how much i just love cinder in this fic. sometimes she kinda zones to the back of my mind where she sits waiting for me to start thinking about her again, but now i remember that this cinder is Peaque. look at her GO, minding her own BUSINESS. im proud of her. does she know i love her.

It didn’t take long to don her new, fire-proofed clothes.

in another world, in a more comical plot, she used asbestos. it didnt go well.

The subtle warmth of the Dust teased tension from Cinder’s stiff muscles, even as she marvelled at the strangeness of her own bedroom’s space. It seemed bigger now than it had the last two nights.

She chose not to dwell on it.

i choose to dwell on it! ME!!!! I CHOOSE TO DWELL ON IT. HEY CINDER WHAT THIS GAY SHIT. hello. ma’am. can we look deeper into this. i, for one, would like to, and i, for one, think its of value to think abt this. that said, small segue

Quietly, Cinder murmured, “I didn’t freak out.”

THE FACT SHE SAYS IT ALOUD LIKE EM AND MERC CAN HEEEEEEAR HEEEEEEEER i am. INFATUATED with this family. cant wait for the 100k spinoff thats basically an elongated beach episode where they go to like. alton towers. or butlins. six flags??? thats a thing in america right??? anyway. beach episode. call me. (wink wink nudge nudge push push shove shove)

We had to stop back in because Merc left his favorite binder, and it was 2 in the morning, so it was easier to crash here for the night than mess with the ship’s autopilot.

them,,, THEM!!!! mercury is just a son and childe. thast it. he canot change this. i love these kids so much i am SHAKING THE MONITOR RN!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAA

Stuck here in one of the homes they’d shared, Cinder missed them terribly. Missed the sound of their voices and the easy comfort of their presence. Finding the time to contact them had been difficult, between managing Glynda and Hati both, but Glynda was gone, and she’d sent Hati onwards to Atlas. She remembered her call with Emerald, before arriving in Umbraroot; she knew it had not soothed her or her fears.

im sorry was this chapter targeted at me, specifically, as a human being on planet earth? GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS FAMILY!!!!!!!!! THIS WONKY OLD BANDAGED UP FAMILY UNIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! i thrive every time they are mentioned on the page. it is a blessing. my succulents grow stronger each time they show up.

“No,” Cinder argued softly, “I had to. Mercury, you deserve to hear it from me as well. I am sorry. And I am promising you: I’ll come back.”

For a long, heart-wrenching moment, he was completely quiet. It was good that Cinder was alone in the apartment; laying herself bare like this would be unbearable with an audience.

GODDDDDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i am OBSESSED WITH THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM GOING TO BE THINKING ABOUT THIS UNTIL I D I E. of all thing the remaster does better than og, this is just. SPEEDING AHEAD. this whole CONFLICT this whole MESS just makes everything so much RICHER its like when u splash some wine in yr fancy food or stick some cinnamon on yr favourite desserts u dont NEED TO but it adds that lil SOMETHING,,, that little KICK that just ties the flavour profile together and in this case ofgughugguhu it just GIVES SO MUCH. im making SNOW ANGELS in the WORDS on the PAGE.

“Mercury. If I could prove it to you, I would. But you have to—trust me. For just a while longer.”

“It’s getting harder,” he said. He didn’t sound like he was lying just to hurt her. That wasn’t spite. That was honest anger. And it made her feel like dirt.

im less picking these for specific instances of like, things i want to say, but more just because bits of this r rly just so /chef kiss. cinder has these.... endearingly (take that whichever way u like) human qualities in OG to rly make u realise she had ties to add to her #Doubt but the remaster is just AMPING it up and u FEEL IT and ive never been more SYMPATHETIC to a round-faced sinnamon bun of assholery and fire id DIE for cinder fall and this is a fact PUT IT ON MY GRAVESTONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Is there anything you need?” What was this? Cinder could barely focus on her words. It felt like... “Anything? At all?”

“We’re fine.”

“Mercury, wait please—” She was losing him. “I think—”

“Just hurry up.”

The line went dead.

this place is not a place of honor.................. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here........................ nothing valued is here................ IM DYING

Cinder began to type out her response, and that was when the nausea really kicked in.

[...]

She recognized this now.

Glynda.

stress stress stress stress STRESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

There shouldn’t be anybody. Cinder had done everything in her power to cut Glynda from people who would interfere. To isolate her. Make it easier to bring her to Atlas, to the frozen north, to her mother and the machine…

Cinder’s esophagus quivered; furiously, she shut her eyes and thought of nothing.

god cinder don’t remind me that you’re an asshole and dipshit and also a moron im trying to be NICE and CARE ABT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP REMINDING ME YOU’RE A PIECE OF SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The front door clicked open.

Cinder couldn’t have said how much time had passed, only that it had passed slowly. What she did know was that it was Glynda returning, the sensation of boils bursting wafting off her soul. It crawled over Cinder’s flesh. She curled in on herself.

There were mites under every nailbed. Salt in her weeping mouth.

offal hunt’s brilliant use of this horror aspect is something i have tried previously to emulate and here’s a fact, take it from me: that shit is HARD. offal hunt consistently able to whack those real nasty, really Disgusting vibes on the head EVERY TIME is a work of art. i mean, kc and diesel do not fuck around, and therefore i am NOT surprised, but it’s only when u try this shit yourself that you realise: this is hard! this is difficult! it’s a huge testament to how GOOD this fic is in every way. also this whole fucking body horror aspect is something i didnt know this fic needed, but it did, and here we are.

Thickly: “Things were going okay. If you hadn’t gotten nasty, I might have smoothed things over. I could have fixed things with my son.”

with my son

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CANT TAKE IT EVERY TIME ITS TOO MUCH FOR TO BEAR I CANNOT HANDLE IT I CANNOT STAND IT ITS LIKE BEING SHOT JUST DIRECTLY IN MY DICK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

im like sweating rn

Glynda said, “I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

I SAID IM SWEATING

Glynda asked, “Are you lying to me?”

And Cinder said, “What?”

“About me. About Witches. About Ozpin—” Cinder’s guts went sour. “—About anything. I need to know if I can trust you.”

I SAID I! AM! S W E A T I N G

“I know you’ve lied to people. Hurt people.”

Adrenaline and the image of her kids’ faces behind her eyes made a potent, sick cocktail. “—Not. Now.”

so lets like double back to when i said hey was this chapter written to target me specifically and as it turns out, yes. yes it was. yes it was and as MUCH AS I AM LIVING FOR THIS MOMENT THIS SWEET BUILDUP THE EXPLOSION AND THE CRATER IT ALL LEAVES BEHIND

so this next bit is like. i cant really quote one section but as i was saying in Vague DMs, this whole bit feels like wading through mud. usually if you say something consumes energy to Read it’s in a Bad Way when yr bored but this is more like. you Feel cinder all over everything feels so sluggish and it’s like dragging your own corpse around as you try and leave and you’re TIRED and your LEGS HURT and you’re kinda thinking god what if i just fell face down for just a moment of my LIFE.

The putrid weight of Glynda’s soul filled the room until there was no space left for her.

it’s like being trapped in a sauna, like getting stuck in a humid waiting room. where do you GO. what do you DO. god this whole section is fantastic and offal hunt NEVER fails to fucking nail the Vibes but reading it is HARD. i literally keep having to stop and breathe like ive been holding my breath. jesus h christ.

a small intermission for a mood:

“Get fucked.”

back to regularly scheduled hell

Out of the bedroom. Down the hall. The walls were sweating with heat. She tasted smoke.

i love that i just said how i feel like im trapped in a sauna and it turns out: thats because me and cinder both, baybee!!!! hahahaha help

Glynda’s soul chewed her to the marrow. “Move, Glynda.”

cinder being hunted at the start of this fic: teehee! im running away! now im gonna getcha! heehee! arent i clever :) cinder being hunted now: this uh. this blows, actually,

Cinder’s pulse roared in her ears. Her hands twitched. She smelled Ochre Brown’s round face melting off. His wide smile shattered with each of his teeth, going black and popping like corn.

this chapter is probably my favourite so far for this blending of so many elements. i cant even begin to like. THINK STRAIGHT about how all of this is tying together. the lore. the THEMATICS. like i said this character rly is just Rich with what og lacked and oh is it RICH. im gonna read this chapter in future and see so much that i know ive already missed. holy shit.

“Ms. Fall,” she said. “The White Fang requires your presence immediately.”

NOT NOW

Cinder stood there looking at it for a moment. Her thoughts were slow. Copper-tinged. Something small and indulgent whispered to her through the blood-fog.

It was obvious enough what would happen if she got into this car. The driver would take her to a secluded place, where she would be ambushed by a squadron of battle-hungry White Fang grunts.

They’d try to take her down. And she was a killer, wasn’t she? Ochre Brown wailed in her ears with every thump of her runaway heart. Her hands itched for action; her teeth, for blood.

She’d burn them black.

never mind! you are already dead,

She thought about Glynda. About her saying that if there was trouble with the Fang, she wanted to come. That she would fight for Cinder.

She thought of Glynda’s question: What aren’t you telling me about Ochre Brown?

Yeah, fuck that.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A CLIFFHANGER!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A MOMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!! MORE MOMENTOUSLY: WHAT A CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is EASILY my favourite chapter so far. EASILY. everything about this was peak offal. the relationships. the dynamics. the dialogue. the vibes. the Grossness. the fighting. the EVERYTHING. this is some other level and its BITCHIN. PEAK. that said im now very tired. im going to have a cup of tea and Consider Things for a few hours. brb.

#liveblog #rwby #offal hunt

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talesfromthesnogbox · 5 years

Text

Big (Trash) Mouth

Summary: Richie Tozier is an already overall awkward human being, the absolute last thing he needed was an untimely visit from Maury, his hormone monster.The Big Mouth x It (2017) crossover I apparently needed but couldn't find.

Word Count: 4164

Notes: Soooooo yeah, I posted something on tumblr a little while ago about how I needed this crossover and nobody took the bait so I took it myself. I've never written for It or for Big Mouth, so I'm sure this is all wildly out of character, but whatever, it sparked joy. It was... interesting attempting to write this and not say a lot of the things I knew Richie would say, but I didn't want to go there being in my mid 20's and writing 15 year olds. So yeah. Enjoy?

P.S. I totally headcanon Maggie and Went Tozier to be EXACTLY like Mr and Mrs Birch if you’ve seen Big Mouth, so I wrote them that way.

ao3 link

~~~*~~~

Big Trash Mouth

“Late bloomer”. It’s something Richie had heard his whole life.

Late to start talking, walking, late to potty train, and now…

“Bill, when the hell did you decide to grow a mustache?”

Richie rolled his eyes as his friends fawned over how masculine it made him look. Their voices all deeper, bodies filling out the way they should be. He was fourteen and still gangly as ever, the only thing that had changed with Richie was his height. He now towered over his friends, but still had the awkward squeaky voice. His cheeks were still filled with baby fat, and he walked like a newborn giraffe.

All he wished for was to grow up, like his friends were. He talked the big talk, but in reality, Richie was a scared little boy. His heart thudded in his chest when he thought about what his first kiss would be like. Sure, Bill and Bev were really the only two losers who swapped spit on the regular, but Stan had kissed a girl from camp, and Mike had been actively pursuing one of the girls in their year at school after they’d kissed at a birthday party in a round of truth or dare. Eddie always blushed and told them to fuck off whenever he was asked, which left Richie and Ben as the last two losers.

Ben was a romantic, he wanted it to be special, which Richie always fake gagged at before running his mouth about the love of his life, Mrs. K. It was easier to make a joke about it than face up to what he was really thinking about…

It wasn’t that Richie couldn’t see himself settling down one day, or having a crazy whirlwind romance. He was just young, he wasn’t thinking about it. All he wanted was to be with Eddie.

He’d deny it to anyone who asked if he had a crush on Eddie (even to himself). It wasn’t a crush, Eddie was his best friend of all the losers. He knew what they had was special, and he wanted to grow old with him… and be like, best friends forever, ya know?

Nevertheless, Richie would shake off the feeling. He’d shaken it off at twelve, and he was still shaking it off at fifteen… for a little while at least.

It was hot that night, he’d been reading one of his dad’s old Batman comics, and he realized Batman and Robin were a little close for just friends.

“Ha, totally gay.” He’d muttered, trying to ignore the feeling of his heart beating wildly at the thought. Unlike most of his friends, he didn’t see the appeal to characters like Catwoman. She was sexy, sure, but he didn’t feel the attraction to her. But Batman…

A shiver ran through Richie, and suddenly, a rumble came from his closet. He jumped, terrified that the fucking clown might be back again.

“H-hello?” Richie whispered, praying there wouldn’t be an answer. After a moment of silence, he turned back to Batman. The story became lost on Richie, he stopped focusing on what was happening, and continued to zone in on Batman’s well-sculpted body; and then the rattling started again. “Fuck, hello? Eds, did you follow me home again?”

The closet door opened and a dark figure walked out; a big ugly monster, covered in hair revealed himself in the light. “Who the fuck is Eds?”

Richie shouted as the thing came closer. He slapped himself across the face, attempting to wake himself from whatever nightmare he was in, but he wasn’t waking up.

“What’re you doing kid? With the whole… slapping thing?”

“What the fuck are you?” Richie shouted again, adjusting his glasses and scrambling further up his bed.

“Oh, me? I’m Maury! I’m your hormone monster!”

“My what?”

“Your hormone monster! Congrats kid, you’re a man now.” Richie looked at him, confused and a little horrified of the physical monster that had manifested in front of him. “Look Rich, you’re reading a dirty magazine or some shit, your mind wandered for a bit, badda bing badda boom, here I am. So why don’t you… how did you put it… tickle your pickle and call it an evening?”

“What the fuck.”

“What, are you not looking at your dad’s Playboys?” Richie stared at the thing… Maury… in horror for a moment. “No, I’m reading a Batman comic.”

“Odd flex, but okay, I can work with that. Chicks dig a man in a spandex suit, I bet he gets so much pussy.”

~~~*~~~

Richie had barely slept that night. Maury kept him awake, flooding his mind with confusing thoughts and images.

“Wow Rich, you look horrible.”

“Thanks asshole, not looking too shabby yourself.” He snapped back at Stan as they reached the quarry together. He was not in the mood today.

Hanging out at the quarry today instead of the clubhouse turned out to be a blessing and a curse. The cold water woke him up instantly, and soon enough, Richie was back to being the trashmouth they all knew and loved. But shortly after jumping in, Eddie arrived.

Richie’s heart thudded, and a weak smile broke across his face as Eddie dropped his bike, waving to his friends. Then… his clothes started coming off.

“Ohhhh, shit man, I see how it is, that’s Eds.”

He jumped. “Fuck’s sake, you scared the shit outta me.” Maury had appeared out of nowhere, and it put Richie right back into his bad mood.

“Yeah man, who knew short, angry and hypochondriac would be the one to get your motor running. I thought for sure it’d be the tall, leggy redhead.”

“Shut up, Eds does not get my motor running. He’s my best friend.”

“Oh yeah? Tell that to your dick.”

“What? FUCK.” Sure enough, Richie felt the same unfamiliar stirring he’d started feeling the night before low in his belly. He sunk lower in the water, covering his shoulders, moving as far away from his friends as he could.

“Hey Richie!” Eddie yelled. “Get over here, I need a partner for chicken.”

“Oh yeah, chicken is a fave. Think about it Richie, Eddie sitting on your shoulders, it would be so easy to just turn him around and bury your face—”

“FUCK OFF MAURY. I GET IT.”

“Well you obviously don’t. That problem in your pants wasn’t a problem until he showed up.”

“Oh my god, OKAY. I’m attracted to dudes.” Richie hung his head low, his face burning.

“And…”

“And what? I said what I said.”

“Come on man, it goes deeper than that. You’ve had four other dudes in their tighty-whities feet away from you literally all afternoon and you waited till Spaghetti man showed up to pop a boner.”

Richie frowned. “Um, you’re the hormone monster, none of that was my decision apparently.”

“No, but the gay thoughts you’ve been having about Eddie were all yours.”

Before that day, Richie would have denied it until his face turned blue, but finally, he had to come clean with himself.

“Fine, fine. I’m attracted to Eddie; I have gay thoughts about my best friend. I… I l—I like Eddie.”

“Atta boy! Now go tackle him and pretend your hand slipped when you touch his butt.”

~~~*~~~

“Hey Richie, why were you being so weird earlier today?”

Richie spluttered. Bev had always been forward, calling him out on his bullshit, but he didn’t expect that she’d call him out on it today. The two of them had become close. Richie’s mom adored Bev, she was always welcome at the Tozier house for dinner, a sleepover, whatever she needed. He never questioned why his mom let him have a girl sleep over all the time, but now he supposed she had an inkling that he might not think about girls that way.

He leaned back against his headboard and looked straight ahead.

“I… um…”

“I thought it might be the boner you popped when you saw Eddie strip down, but you were quiet all afternoon.”

Richie felt his face pale. “You… what?”

She laughed. “Stan pointed it out, Mike begged us not to say anything after the sleepover incident.”

“Fuck, well that’s embarrassing. I feel like I’ve lost control, my hormones are like a fucking monster, always there, just waiting to attack.” Richie sounds crazy in his own ears.

“Is it weird that I understand?” Richie looks at her curiously. “Sometimes I just… I just feel so angry, I want to scream and cry, but then…” she shakes her head, “Bill comes in and just… he makes it all better. But then it’s hard to control myself there too.”

“Oooh, Bevvie, you gonna spill all the dirty deets about Big Bill?”

She giggles. “Shut up, asshole. You gonna spill the beans on why you popped a boner at the quarry?”

“I think I have a crush on Eddie.” Richie’s surprised to hear it come out of his own mouth, let alone with another person in the room.

“Yeah dipshit, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Wait, what?” Maury popped up in the corner of Richie’s eye as they spoke it together. “Dude, what the fuck, how’d she find out before you did?”

“You two aren’t exactly subtle you know. We’ve been placing bets on when it would finally come out forever.”

“But… but Bev, neither of us… I didn’t even tell you I was gay. I didn’t even really admit it until very recently.” He paused. “Oh yeah, I’m gay by the way, you’re… you’re the first of the losers to know.”

She looks down at her feet, embarrassed by her own outburst. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… thank you for telling me Rich, I’m proud of you for coming out.”

“Thanks Bevvie.” He opened up as she leaned into him.

“It’s just… you and Eddie have something different, something special between you two.”

“Yeah, but… just because he likes guys too, doesn’t mean he’s into me.” Richie pouted.

Bev turns to look at him. “Richard.” She deadpans.

“What?”

“Eddie’s been flirting with you since we were fucking thirteen.”

“Um, he’s been bitching at me since we were fucking thirteen is I think what you meant to say.”

“No, flirting. He’s been pulling your metaphorical pigtails. And the shorts, he literally only wears them when you’re around because you always comment on them.”

“What? Richard, you never told me there were shorts involved.” Maury popped up. “I demand to see the shorts, take me to the shorts!”

Richie rolled his eyes, his heart thudding in his chest. Could Eddie like him back? “That still doesn’t mean anything, Bev.”

“That means everything, Rich.”

“Yeah Rich, that means everything! I think Eddie likes you man. Maybe try sticking your tongue down his throat, it’ll be like a fun little experiment to see for sure.”

He ignored Maury, still turning red at the thought.

Beverly smirked. “You’re imagining sticking your tongue down his throat, aren’t you?”

Maury raised his eyebrows. “Wow, she’s good.”

He shoved her, a smile cracking on his face. “Shut up.”

“Never.” Bev composed herself and leaned back into Richie. “I think you should tell him.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Richie shook his head. “I-I can’t. He’d never—”

“I literally just told you he’s been flirting with you for years. Spit it out Richie, it’ll feel good once you do. Plus, boyfriend.”

“No, but he’s my best friend. What if I fuck it all up and he never wants to see me again? Or worse, what if we do end up dating, and I hurt him? I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt him. I just want him to be happy.”

“He’d be a lot happier if he were with you Richie.” Beverly reached up and stroked the hair away from his forehead.

“Okay, maybe so. But maybe I’m just not ready to come all the way out yet.”

She smiled. “That’s okay too.”

~~~*~~~

Months went by, and Maury continued to torture Richie to no end. He somehow sprouted up even taller, his voice got even lower, and suddenly he was just… hairy.

Richie had grown up a lot, but not just physically.

He was still Richie Trashmouth Tozier, but in much smaller doses than he had been before. He almost stopped relying on dirty jokes and made genuinely funny remarks, he stopped trying to take the spotlight, and opened up to, and listened to his friends in return. Richie had become almost civilized.

He’d come out to his parents; they were every bit as loving and supportive as they’d always been, sometimes overly supportive.

“You know sweetheart, my friend from work has a nephew in the next town over who’s gay, maybe we should set you two up.” His mom would say.

“Richie, you should really think about cleaning up the hair on your face, at least until you can grow a proper beard. Your mother has told me scratchy kisses are unpleasant, and you don’t want some nice boy to think you give scratchy kisses.” His dad would lament.

Richie’s parents were a lot, but he was grateful that they cared.

“For god’s sake man, why did your dad cry teaching you how to shave your face?” Maury said, rolling his eyes.

“Because he doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that I’m growing up and I won’t be his baby anymore.”

“Geez, that’s bleak.”

Richie and Maury’s attention was drawn to the window as he heard a gentle clink. They approached carefully, only to find Eddie at the base of his house looking up.

“Well well well, would you look at that. Just saw him this afternoon, but little Eds came back for some of that sweet Trashmouth lovin I see.” Maury waggled his eyebrows. “OH! And he wore the shorts. The SHORTS Richie!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Richie opened his window. “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” He called down to Eddie.

“Really not in the fucking mood right now, Trashmouth.” He sounded broken, small. There was anger and hurt layered under his displeasure to Richie’s usual antics. “I—I don’t think I’ll be able to climb up. But…”

“Say no more Spaghetti. Come around to the front, my parents are in the kitchen, I’ll sneak you in.”

Richie raced to the front door as quickly and quietly as he could. When he saw Eddie’s broken expression, he immediately brought him in for a hug.

“I’m okay.” Eddie repeated, but he didn’t look okay.

“Come upstairs, we just have to get past Maggie and Went.”

They tiptoed into the house, but Maggie Tozier was like a bloodhound. “Richie, is that Bev with you? Oh, hi Eddie, what a nice surprise.” She smiled as she turned the corner and spotted the two boys.

Eddie smiled. “Hi Mrs. Tozier. Sorry to interrupt your evening, I won’t stay long.”

“Nonsense, stay as long as you’d like. Can I get you boys anything, a snack? Something to drink?” Maggie smiled, sensing something was wrong. “Eddie, is everything okay?”

Eddie smiled but shook his head. “It’s complicated.” He shrugged, but Maggie’s eyes were kind, encouraging him to share. “I… it’s my mom… she’s been even more overbearing since I came out to her and we got in a fight. I just needed some air. I think I should have just kept it to myself and not told her I’m gay.”

Maggie rushed over, and Went popped his head into view. “Oh honey thank you for telling me. Never feel ashamed to be who you are.” She pulled him into a hug, Went rushing over to join them. “Well if you ever need some extended time away, there’s more than enough room for you here.”

“Thanks Mrs. T.”

“Wow man, this is all pretty gay.” Maury snuck in. “Ha, get it, gay? Cause we’re like totally gay and sharing feelings ‘n shit? Yeah, that’s some good shit.”

Richie rolled his eyes at the hormone monster, and touched Eddie’s shoulder lightly. “Love the whole Full House heart to heart thing that’s going on, but I think Eddie came over to take his mind off it all. Wanna go upstairs and play on the Super Nintendo?”

Eddie smiled and nodded, following the other boy into his room.

“Went, did you know Eddie was gay?” Maggie asked her husband quietly.

“I had an inkling. I think something very beautiful is happening with our son and his best friend right under our noses.”

Maggie frowned. “Just because they’re both gay—”

He shook his head. “No, no. They’ve had something special from the beginning, my sweet. I think it’s just the natural progression of their relationship.” Went kissed his wife’s cheek, and went back to their cleaning.

~~~*~~~

In the hours that had passed, Richie successfully took Eddie’s mind off his mother. The two teens laughed as they played Street Fighter, shoveling popcorn that Maggie had brought up into their smiling mouths.

It was Friday, so Eddie didn’t feel bad about drifting off in Richie’s bed shortly after they’d both collapsed in it, comic books sprawled at their feet.

Richie looked on as Eddie peacefully slept beside him. His features were soft, boyish still, but a hint of developing masculinity lay beneath the baby fat that remained. He removed his glasses and flipped off his lamp, settling into his normal sleeping position when Eddie snuggled in against his side.

Fuck.

“Oh shit, Richie, I don’t think Eddie’s asleep.” Maury once again made an appearance.

“What the fuck are you talking about, he’s totally asleep. Maury, what do I do?”

“Um… um… do you think he’d mind if you—”

“YES. Yes he would absolutely mind if I just whipped my dick out in the middle of our sleepover Maury.”

“Richie…” His head turned to the boy in his arms who was obviously very much not asleep. “I can hear you thinking. Shut the fuck up and hold me.”

“You heard the man Richard, he wants to be held, hold him!”

Richie moved hesitantly, gaining confidence as Eddie snuggled in closer to him. He could feel his friend’s breath lightly hitting his neck, getting closer and closer as he searched for that perfectly comfortable sweet spot in Richie’s arms. Eddie’s lips lightly grazed his neck, and suddenly Richie bolted upright, feeling the familiar tension stir in his gut.

“Richie?” Eddie sat up sleepily, eyes boring into the side of Richie’s face.

“Why the fuck would you move! If you would have waited a few more minutes, sweet, sweet magic could have happened!” Maury whined, dragging a hairy hand down his face.

“I—I’m sorry Eddie, I just… gotta save some lovin for your mom, am I right?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I-is it weird, being like this together now, because I’m gay?” They had indeed had sleepovers before where Richie had woken up with Eddie curled around him, but it had never bothered him until Maury showed up.

“N-no, no, that’s not it. I’m gay too, asshole.”

Eddie got up, walking towards Richie hesitantly. “Then why…” and then in the moonlight, he caught a glimpse of why. “Oh my god, classic Trashmouth. It’s like the quarry all over again. You really can’t control that thing can you?” He joked.

Richie had no witty response for him. He was silent for a moment, letting his own embarrassment wash over him. “I’m sorry Eddie.”

Eddie frowned. “For what? We’re teenage boys, that shit happens like all the time in our sleep.”

“Eddie, I… I wasn’t sleeping.”

Maury’s eyes shot open. “Richie why the fuck would you do that, he’s gonna think you’re some sort of pervert! Not that I wouldn’t love you any less if you were some sort of pervert, believe me, I could tell you stories about some of the other kids I’ve been assigned to.”

“Maury, just… just shut up, please.”

“What do you mean you weren’t sleeping? Richie, we’ve been asleep for—”

Richie shook his head. “You’ve been asleep for hours, I… I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts of Mrs. K running through—”

“Richie please, you literally just said you were gay.” The two were silent for a moment. Eddie looked at him hesitantly and nodded. “Okay. Does this happen with—”

“No.” Richie closed his eyes and collapsed back on his bed, willing the horribly timed problem to go away. “No, Eddie, just you.” He let out a groan of frustration.

Maury stood behind Eddie, unable to read his expression. “Shit man, I think you have to tell him how you feel now.”

“I’m sorry Eds, I never meant for you to find out like this… I never meant for you to find out at all.”

“What the fuck are you going on about Richie?”

Richie sat up and looked Eddie in the eye. “Eds… Eds you don’t get it?”

Eddie spluttered. “N-not really! I have no fucking clue what you’re trying to say right now. All I can tell from this conversation is that you’re gay and still apparently fucking my mother, and you popped a boner from lying beside me. I’m not a fucking mind-reader man, I’ve got no idea what—”

Richie’s lips gently touching Eddie’s cut off his rant. The kiss only lasted a second, but it left the two teens breathless.

“O-oh.” Eddie’s eyebrows were in his hairline, and Richie couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“Holy fucking shit kid, you fucking did it.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Neither boy wanted to speak first, neither wanted to look into the other’s eyes. Richie was beyond embarrassed, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d maybe lost a friend.

“Fucking hell Eddie, even your mother is more talkative in bed.” He laughed nervously, adjusting his glasses.

“Shit man, he’s not saying anything. Whip it out, whip your dick out! Stun the motherfucker into saying something!” Maury yelled and jumped about.

“Richie… we were having a moment, why the fuck would you bring my mother into this again?”

Richie’s eyes went wide. “We… we were? I kinda thought you were going to jump out my window to be honest.”

“No, no! That… that was… good! I mean, I liked it.”

“You did?”

Eddie shoved Richie lightly. “Yes, dumbass, I did. I just don’t really know how to do this whole…” He pointed between the two of them.

“This whole what?”

“You know… um… crush… thing.”

“Crush!” Maury looked between the two boys and collapsed.

“Wait, you have a crush on me?” Richie pushed his hand through his hair.

“Yes asshole, why do you think I always try to partner with you in chicken? And sit beside you whenever we’re with the rest of the losers? I’ve had a crush on you for like… I dunno… like a really long time. And I kind of thought you did too. But now I’m wondering if maybe you just wanted another gay boy to I dunno, experiment with. Fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“No! No, Eds, me too, I feel that way too. The crush I mean.” Richie smiled and took the smaller boy’s hand in his. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sorry about…” he waved his free hand over his crotch. “I just… it’s like… uncontrollable. And like… your butt just looks really good in those shorts.”

“Beep beep trashmouth.” Eddie giggled. “I get it. I mean, I don’t, my dick isn’t trying to sabotage me, but it did at one point, and that sucked.”

Richie looked over to Maury accusingly. “Yeah, it does suck.” He shook his head and looked at Eddie. “So what do we do now?”

“Well I like you, and you like me, we could always… um I mean… you could be my boyfriend?”

Richie fake gasped. “Mamma dear!” He said in a southern belle accent. “This here boy wants to be my boyfriend!”

Maury shook his head. “Yeah man, maybe don’t do that.” But Eddie was giggling like a schoolgirl, eating Richie’s performance up. “Okay, wait, maybe you’re onto something. He likes it, keep doing it.”

Eddie shoved Richie again, knocking him down onto the bed, but tumbling after him. “Shut up asshole.”

“That’s asshole boyfriend to you, boyfriend.”

He blushed adorably. “Okay, asshole boyfriend.” Richie noticed Eddie’s gaze travelling between his eyes and his lips. Before he could stop himself, he leaned forwards, and kissed him again, this time longer, with more pressure.

Eddie’s breath hitched; it was perfect. Perfect until…

“Boys? Shouldn’t you be—oh!”

Richie pulled away from Eddie, and jolted back up again. “Mom!” He shouted. “This is why you need to knock!”

“Sorry sweetie, I’ll just… I’m gonna leave the door open a bit for you. We’re talking about this tomorrow. Goodnight boys, sleep tight! Make good choices!”

Maggie wandered back into her room, giggling as she crawled back into bed beside her husband.

“You may have been onto something with those two Wentworth.”

“See Mags, I told you. Something beautiful is happening.”

#reddie #reddie fic #richie x eddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #maury the hormone monster #It big mouth au #my writing

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spookyspaghettisundae · 4 years

Text

Willy the White Wolf

The thumping rhythm and jilted melodies of trashy electronic music droned on throughout the Velvet Tango Bar. Lights hanging from the ceiling cast the large room in a warm orange hue, littered with islands of glowing smartphone displays.

A bunch of thirty-something nobodies stood in clusters of small cliques, far enough apart in the dive to not hear the exact words of each other’s conversations, but still too close for Alethea’s comfort.

Alethea sipped from her bottle of cheap beer. Danielle and Rhiannon were late, so she stood alone at a tall table. She had not expected to see so many people attending the Evergreen High reunion and to be gathered here the night before the actual party. Then again, there were few other options for recreation outside of the sleazy bowling alley in this backwater town. But she had not come here for the reunion party. She had come here because of the letter from her dead friend Harry.

And she had come to this bar because of another such letter. The one she had found in their secret place under the bridge. One that read, “Someone will die in the shower room tomorrow night. You have to stop this.”

Adding to her discomfort of standing alone, she could not help but feel like Lucas Cooke and Bradley Mills, those two goons, were shooting glances at her from across the bar’s room this entire time. While the two former jocks of the White Wolf team nursed their drinks over some dialogue inaudible to Alethea, she wished more than ever for the ability to read lips.

She almost spilled some of her freshly opened bottle when someone started talking right behind her.

“Look who’s come back to our neck o’ the woods.”

Alethea turned to look Alice Brock in her weary eyes. The former cheerleader of the White Wolves looked like she was ten years older than her peers; a puffy face with a road map of wrinkles, both products of an overindulgence in alcoholic beverages.

Alice looked Alethea up and down.

“Damn, Allie, you look like you might’ve made somethin’ outta yourself, huh?”

Alethea put her beer down and forced herself to smile in return.

“Hi Alice,” she finally replied. Her voice cracked in the process, betraying her lack of interest in small talk.

“Heard you’re a big journalist now. You gonna write a piece on our town? Dig up some of the old stories like Butcher Benson’s murders? Or those silly UFO sightings?” There was something strange in how Alice pronounced certain words—not like she didn’t know how to pronounce them, but like she was pronouncing them wrong on purpose.

Alice’s expression remained listless and blank the entire time.

“Yeah, no. Just here for the,” Alethea said, her words trailing off. She pondered her lie. “The reunion party.”

She tried to maintain a friendly mien throughout, but instantly and mentally scolded herself for doing so instead of slipping into her poker face. She knew exactly what kind of hideous grimace she always cracked whenever she lied.

“Right,” Alice said, the word drawling out with dripping sarcasm. “Well, good for you for making it big. Not like those assholes over there.”

Alice smiled at Lucas and Bradley, but there was something sinister in it because of the words she added next, “Two dipshits who’re just one bad day away from becoming the next serial killers of our lovely state of Maine, or something.”

Alethea tried not to look over at the two men and just swallowed emptily, keeping focused on Alice’s face.

“You know, you and the rest of the losers club—”

“Fuck off,” Alethea snapped.

Alice stopped in the middle of whatever she had been about to say. The weary air about her had vanished, her eyes gone wide with surprise as she now stared at Alethea.

“Jeeze, sorry. I was just about to say, that you, Danielle, Ryan, and Harry—God bless his soul—you were the ones who turned out alright in the end, I guess? Joke’s on us? We were always giving you shit and calling you the ‘losers club’ and now look at us. Most of us hardly made it out of this county, let alone this town.”

Alethea sighed and swallowed another comment. She picked up her phone to check the time. Rhiannon and Danielle were now almost forty minutes late. Not even the heavy snow fall was an excuse for that, given how small the town of Evergreen was.

Alice had truly changed and Alethea was almost warming up to her as their conversation went on. But she could not help but feel watched. She almost regretted it when she shot another glance over to Lucas and Bradley.

Still staring at her. Creeps.

Seeing Brad smack his lips after downing a shot of liquor almost made her feel sick.

Alethea sighed again and realized that Alice was still talking, muffled by a combination of the background music in the bar and her own mind drifting to the letter from her dead friend, Harry, as well as the urgency of needing to see her friends who had returned to the town for the same reason. She was starting to feel dizzy and needed to get out, even if just for a moment.

“Excuse me, Alice? I—I need to use the restroom. If you see Danielle or Rhiannon, can you tell them I’ll be right back?”

Alice just blinked and stared at her. Probably dumbfounded that Alethea was ignoring her somewhat and kind of bossing her around. It dawned on Alethea that their roles from back in their high school days had been reversed; that Alice used to be the snot who never listened to her.

“Yeah, sure.”

The cool air from the corridors outside the bar’s main room swept over Alethea’s skin like a fresh breeze and she almost immediately felt better.

She stopped in the hallway, almost feeling a migraine coming on from the glaringly bright light pouring from the fluorescent tubes lining the ceiling. They flickered for a second, adding an eerie atmosphere to the snow-white Willy the White Wolf mascot costume standing in the corner. A sign hung from its neck, reading, “Come see the whole White Wolves team of ‘05 at the Evergreen Reunion Party!”

There was obviously nobody in the suit, but its dead empty eyes stared back at Alethea and sent shivers down her spine.

She shook off the weird feeling it had given her and she continued on into the restrooms. The door opening sounded oddly loud. Her own footsteps echoed just as much, reverberating painfully in her own head. Her temples throbbed. The door swung shut behind her and she looked at herself in the mirror for a split second, noting the black rings under her eyes, before heading into one of the stalls.

Nobody else in here.

She flipped down the toilet’s seat and locked herself in the stall, taking a deep breath before sitting down. The smell of cleaning chemicals and the myriads of comments, numbers, and lewd jokes scrawled onto the inside walls and door of the stall assaulted her senses.

She exhaled sharply and produced a joint from her purse. Clamping down on it between her lips, she then started digging around in her pocket book for her storm lighter. The other objects in her purse clicked and clattered about and she uttered a curse over how impractical this stupid bag was—like that the slot for her phone was too small for it.

The women’s room door opened. Loudly, just as when she had entered. The joint almost fell from her mouth as she stopped rooting around in her purse, frozen in the spot.

Then the restroom door’s hydraulic arm automatically shut the door again.

Footsteps thundered through the room. Not small shoes, but heavy. Big. Wide soles, she just knew it, even without seeing them.

Wham.

The loud noise startled her. Someone had swung open a stall door, two stalls down from hers, letting it slam into the wall.

WHAM.

Again, now one stall closer. A shadow broke the light through the cracks in between the thin walls of the bathroom stalls and their doors.

A pair of heavy black boots thumped down in front of the door of her stall. She had almost expected a pair of those fuzzy cartoonish feet of the mascot costume from outside in the halls, but, no—a pair of heavy black work boots, matching the sounds they made.

They had stopped there. Waiting.

She held her breath. Her mind raced, reeling with all the terrible possibilities. A million thoughts a second. Still she held her breath, instinctively without even thinking about that, just hoping to be ignored. To think that this had nothing to do with her. That nothing had anything to do with her.

Her heart pounded. So loudly, that she wondered if the man outside the stall could hear it.

She knew it was a man. There was something so menacing about this presence that, in her mind, it had to be a man.

Her hand trembled like a leaf in the wind as she grabbed the joint from her mouth and stuffed it back into her purse. That caused some fabric and objects in there to rustle and then clink.

Someone slammed into the door to her stall and she gasped, only narrowly masking a shriek.

“Fuck off, I have a gun,” she said. Or yelled. Or she wanted to yell, but she said it instead. Her voice trembled more than her hands and even she felt unconvinced by her own lie.

The person outside her stall shuffled their feet. Those heavy boots stepped away, then walked away. The restroom door opened and this person left again.

The fear refused to subside, and Alethea’s heart continued to pound like crazy, so hard that it almost seemed like it was trying to explode.

She allowed herself to breathe again, straining to listen; to see—to know—if anybody else was in there. Letting time pass. Seconds that felt like minutes, minutes that felt like eternity. Hoping that this person—whoever it was—was long gone whenever she dared to open the door to her stall again.

Alethea clambered on top of the toilet seat and peered over the edges of the stall’s walls. There was nobody else in the women’s room. She hopped down, exited the stall, and approached the door.

Then stopped.

Her heart continued to drum to the tune of terror. She grabbed her phone and flicked its display so she could take a picture, hoping that she might blind any assailant with the flash, or fool them into thinking she was holding pepper spray or a taser—if the worst came to pass.

The marathon of thoughts racing through her mind played through a thousand scenarios in which she escaped an assault or was overpowered by some creep and she finally had built up enough courage to leave.

She leaned out the opened door and peered into the corridors. Nobody there.

With hasty steps, she took her leave.

And stopped dead in her tracks again.

The mascot costume of Willy the White Wolf was missing. The sign still read, “Come see the whole White Wolf team of ‘05 at the Evergreen Reunion Party!” But it was now on the ground, with a big dark shoe print from a heavy work boot stamped on it.

Alethea’s heart skipped a beat and she nearly dropped her phone when she whipped it around to call Danielle.

The call went straight to voice mail and she spoke into the merciless void of it while she craned her neck and looked around each corner with the expectation of running into a possible assailant.

“Uh, to hell with the bar. I think someone’s out to get me here. Let’s meet at our safe place where we always used to get high. If I don’t show up there in thirty minutes, call the cops.”

Alethea hung up.

With hurried steps, she half-jogged out of the place, descending a flight of stairs and exiting into the cold wintry night, into flurries of fluffy white flakes silently falling down and adding to the feet of snow piling up outdoors. The cold wet powder crunched underneath her shoes and the lack of traction on the bottom of her sneakers almost made her slip and fall as she rushed across the parking lot, though she caught herself mid-stride and continued on.

She then remembered that she hadn’t even paid the friendly bartender, Cobbs, for the beer she had bought, but whispered some more profanities to still her mind and say that she would pay for it some other time. After all, she had an honest, legitimate excuse to have gotten the hell out of there.

Still, it caused her to second-guess her actions and turn. For just one moment.

A moment that made her see a figure in the doorway of the Velvet Tango Bar. Standing against the blinding glare of the fluorescent light was the silhouette of Willy the White Wolf in all his goofy glory. But he held a fire axe in one hand, letting it droop down by his side, the axe’s head resting on the ground beside him.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she remembered the faceless psychopath who had chased her down the hallways of the Lakeview hotel, wearing nothing but a horse’s head. She still felt the injuries on her back that he had inflicted with his improvised weapon before she escaped his wrath.

Willy took a step towards her. The head of the fire axe dragged along the floor, its metal scraping against concrete as he descended the three steps onto the parking lot with a CLANK, CLANK, CLANK. Then he stopped again, staring at her through those dead, hollow eyes of the mascot costume’s stupid cartoonish head.

Gasping for air, Alethea ran. She wanted to scream, but could not.

The snow crunched underneath her feet, and she stumbled and slipped and slid forth, only barely able to see behind her as she fled and never felt bold enough to stop and look back at her pursuer.

But she knew for sure: Willy followed, lumbering, head flopping ridiculously, the axe now gripped in both of his freakishly over-sized three-fingered hands.

Alethea scrambled to escape through the narrows between houses and onto the street, where a car would have run her over had it not been rolling along at a snail’s pace due to the thick layer of snow on the town’s roads. She winced at the blinding glare of its headlights shining into her face and she yelled at the driver for help.

It took moments for everything to sink in—for her to make sense of the situation. Rhiannon and Danielle had gotten out of the driver’s and passenger’s seats, respectively, and called out to her.

“Christ, Allie, are you alright?” asked Danielle.

Willy the White Wolf—or rather, the creep disguised as the mascot—had stopped chasing her, probably once he had seen her run into other people—into witnesses.

The figure of Willy was absent. Alethea stared into the darkness between the street lights, where shadows swallowed everything and the snow devoured every sound.

Every sound but Danielle’s voice, pleading with Alethea to answer her and tell her what was going on. But the rushing of blood in Alethea’s ears, her heart racing with a million beats a minute, she could barely hear it. It all sounded so far away. She just wanted to know where her pursuer was.

The darkness had taken Willy. Her assailant was nowhere to be seen.

All that remained were the tracks she had left behind.

And the big tracks of Willy’s costume, leading out into the woods nearby.

—Submitted by Wratts

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crowkingwrites · 5 years

Text

Battle of the Bands (Ch.19)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 1124 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten // Chapter Eleven // Chapter Twelve // Chapter Thirteen // Chapter Fourteen // Chapter Fifteen

Ramsay’s Ending (Chapter 16) Viserys’ Ending (Chapter 17) Jon’s Ending (Chapter Eighteen)

Robb’s Ending - The Great Escape

“What?” Viserys reacted. “You’re not with Ramsay? But he said—

“You’re suing the whole magazine and this was all my fault. I—

“Did Robb Stark fire you?”

“No, well—

“Why are you here?” Viserys asked. His voice was different this time. It held no anger or rage, but confusion. “Did you come for me?”

“I…no,” you stood and closed your eyes. Why did Viserys make everything about him? “I didn’t come here for you.”

“Oh,” he sounded hurt, but you rolled your eyes. “I just thought maybe we could talk. I didn’t end things well between us.”

“Yeah, suing me is completely normal,” you added with snark.

“Look, it was stupid. But, I didn’t appreciate what you said about me. I’m not like that.”

“You are,” you took a dig at him. “You’ve been using people and breaking the rules all your life because you think you’re God. You’re not.”

“Do you realize how much of a big deal I am? Do you know who my family is? You can’t talk to me that way. I can fucking sue you into the ground, bitch.”

“Don’t call her a bitch,” you heard Robb’s voice behind you. Robb’s eyes stared Viserys down. “Your entire family is founded on the idea of power hungry people who have no love or mercy for anyone. What she write was nothing new. You’re just mad because it’s true.”

Viserys’ palms turned into fists. “You know, your family isn’t as amazing as you think either. All of you are dipshits. Including your mistake brother.” Robb almost lunged at him, but you got in front of him. You forgot how it felt to be this close to him. He smelled like a forest you wanted to get lost in for hours. You didn’t notice before, but he wore your favorite color as a tie. Maybe Robb didn’t completely hate you?

“He’s not worth it,” you said quietly to him. You took Robb’s hand and left Viserys behind. A thought popped into your head and came out of your mouth before you really thought about the question. “Why are you here?”

“I had to follow you,” Robb admitted. “That…sounded creepy.”

“Yeah. It did.” You laughed. Both of you stood there for a moment and let time pass around you. You didn’t know what to say or how to react.

“I thought you were gone. I tried to call you a lot, but—look, I’m really sorry. I was on my way your place because I thought there was something really wrong. Jon told me about your anxiety and I thought—I thought you were suicidal. Oh, that’s really bad to say. I’m really sorry. I was on my way to you and I saw you! I saw you leave, so I had to follow you. I just—I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Robb blurted out. He took a breath. “Are you ok?”

You put your hand over your mouth. He still cared. After everything both of you have been through together, he still cared for you.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Ok great!” Robb smiled. “Because I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t okay. I mean, you’re so sweet and I don’t want to lose you. I fucing panicked when I heard you were leaving. I blamed myself for all of it because I’ve been so—

You kissed Robb softly and slowly. Time seemed to slow around you as you took your time with him. Your hands traveled from his chest to around his neck. It was as if you were kissing a prince. Robb held you gently and kissed you back.

When you finally separated, Robb looked at you with more love than you could handle. Your face turned different shades of red. He laughed and touched your forehead with his own.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked you.

It didn’t matter who won the Battle of the Bands. Robb won over your heart from the beginning. After the first few dates and a little time in the bedroom, Robb and you found that love really does happen at first sight. The rest of the year seemed go by quicker when you were happy.

You gained two promotions in that time (of your own merit without Robb’s help), and you were now Head Editor of Arts and Entertainment. The Scene paid you enough to live on your own in downtown. The Scene’s Christmas Party went off without a hitch and you stood next to Robb in matching outfits.

“I like you in black dresses,” he whispered in your ear. “Hm, I like you better in brighter colors. Why do you always wear black?” you said, kissing his cheek.

“Oh no. You’re a complete hypocrite. Your whole closet is black. Don’t start with me.”

“Oh, we better behave, someone professional is walking towards us,” you winked. Robb looked at his acquaintance and smiled at you.

“Actually, he’s here for you. Mr. Woolf! Good to see you!”

“Robb Stark!” Mr. Woolf shouted with arms wide to hug him. “You know, you look more like your mother every time I see you.”

“Oh I know,” Robb said. “My mother blessed me with her beauty genes and thank God for that. Could you imagine if I looked like my father?”

“Well, look at your brother. He broods all the time still, doesn’t he?”

Robb pointed to his left. “He seems very happy with his girlfriend now, so I wouldn’t be so sure. Oh! This is my girlfriend, Y/N L/N, Head Editor of Arts and Entertainment for the Scene.”

“I’ve been waiting to meet you, Ms. Y/N.” Mr. Woolf shook your hand. “I’ve read your material and I’m more than impressed. Have you ever thought about writing a book?”

“A book?” you said shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Mr. Woolf contacted me two weeks ago,” Robb interjected. “He wanted to meet with you face to face for a book deal.”

“Wait! Like a real deal book deal?”

“Yes,” Mr. Woolf smiled. “A real deal book deal. Wolf Publishing would love to sign you on as a new author.” Your face was a mixture of confusion and excitement. The floor seemed to melt your feet and Robb held you up.

“Is this seriously happening?!” you turned to him. Robb kissed your head.

“Say yes, love,” Robb reminded you to talk.

“Oh my God! Yes! Of course! I’ve very interested!” You shook Mr. Woolf’s hand and looked back to Robb. Robb loved you for your attitude and talent, and you knew he would support you either way. A singular thought ran across your mind. You heard wedding bells in your ears.

Note to Self: He’s going to be your husband one day.

In this order:

Chapter 16 - Ramsay’s Ending Chapter 17 - Viserys’ Ending Chapter 18 - Jon’s Ending Chapter 19 - Robb’s Ending Chapter 20 - Your Ending

Ultimate Tag List (People who wished to be tagged in EVERY work I post.)

@angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09 @i-theredqueen@sleepylunarwolf@loki-0fasgard @parkerplexed

Game of Thrones Tag List (People who wish to be tagged in everything GoT related)

@boltonblade @why-so-red@sj-thefan @sunshinesydney-blog@drunkenpoets@antiscocialfanwarrior@fnnexua@fraueninflammen @wanna-plan-world-domination@bravado07@k-macncheese@theladyofrice@lokimysunandstars@tyri-yawn@kcd15@theocatkov @cassandrabelleaime @oberyners@ragnarssonsbitch@storytellersun @ren-ni

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#robb stark #robb stark/reader #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #game of thrones #got #got imagine #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones imagine #battle of the bands #batb

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ikonislife · 5 years

Text

Complicated.

-Yunhyeong x female reader

-friends to lovers? mentioned of sex, slightly nsfw

“You know, I’ve never really understood your no one-night-stand policy.” The spoon full of soup you had just inhaled through the wrong pipe spoke to the incredulous, not to mention shocking nature of the question that had just left your best friend’s lips.

“What’s so hard to understand about it?” Nearly coughing your lungs out, you finally found enough strength to gasp out a few words, no thanks to Yunhyeong’s aggressive patting on your back.

“Well, what if you’re like unbearably frustrated, then what?” The wide doe eyes, the seemingly innocent tone of his words made you questioned his very existent. How could someone, who had just asked for the reason why you weren’t opening up your legs at every opportunity, be so innocent that the thought of masturbation evaded his mind. Unless, he was chasing a very specific answer... That thought popped up in your mind for the single split second and so did hope. But this was Yunhyeong you were dealing with, he probably meant nothing by his words.

“Well how did you get rid of all your boners when you were a mere socially awkward teenage boy, and not this “charming prince” I’ve heard so much about.” Disgust slowly engulfing your face, earning you few more harsh pat, though you suspected these weren’t to help the small coughs still falling from your bruised lungs. “Well, beside having those nasty wet dreams about me, of course.”

“I did not have nasty wet dreams about you, get off your high horse.” The high pitch scoff falling from his lips and those wary glances, the exact opposite of the words being spoken. And that strange chuckle, the way he was trying to move past the fact that he had unashamedly stared at you that one summer when when the heaven decided to blessed you with clear skin and slightly more curves than the plank of a body your 14 years old self had... All of it raised even more questions in your heart than his strange question. Though you said nothing, playing along just to see where this conversation would lead your friendship to.

“Not according to Jinhwan that one summer at camp!”

“I hate that dipshit...Bet you didn’t even have to force it out of him” Yunhyeong muttered darkly, seemingly cursing his best friend to the depth of hell in his mind.

“You know it! That boy is weak for me, don’t know why you’re still telling him secrets.” Your sudden reminder of just how big of a crush Jinhwan had on you in high school and college somehow stealing all the colors off of Yunhyeong’s skin. A nervous chuckle ripped from his lips as his gaze began dancing about the room. You caught on, far sooner than the cough he heaved to rid himself of whatever that was that had possessed him during those few seconds. Again, you won’t utter a word until you were completely sure what he was playing at.

“Well, you still didn’t answer my question.”

“Why are you all TMI with me all of the sudden. Why are you all of the sudden curious about my kitty?” You’ve learn your lesson, his shenanigans won’t be having you snorting soup twice in the same hour. Pushing your bowl away, let you tempted to sip another spoon, you turned the question back on him, wholeheartedly curious just of what he was fishing for. But it was slowly becoming clear that perhaps your dear best friend might have a problem he somehow concluded only you can fix.

“When are we not TMI... And please, don’t refer to it as kitty again. I call my pet cat that and I don’t wanna be thinking of your...”

“My... litty kitty? vagina? pussy?” You jest, taking a moment to finish your food before the stammering man could say anything else to put you off of your meal.

“Are you on crack?!” It was his turn to spray your entire dining table with the monstrosity he called a bite. The look on his face, you wouldn’t say he was mortified nor disgusted but rather regrets of heading down a path in which he himself know not the destination. So he definitely had no idea himself where or if you would’ve entertained this conversation, good to know.

“No, you asked about my coital business, putting the p in my v, I’m just giving the audience what they want!”

“No, I changed my mind, let’s go back to kitty.” Dutifully cleaning after himself, Yunhyeong mused as he wiped up your dining table.

“Oh, come on. If you want to talk about my vagina and its business, at least have a the ball to call it what it is! It’s not that easily offended, you know.” Sighing, you loan a hand in cleaning up only for the man to swat it away, citing he could clean a few dishes himself. Honestly, if he wasn’t so dense to your feelings, you might just marry him one day. When was the last time you met someone like Yunhyeong, you weren’t too sure. One thing you were sure of was that none of your useless exes were even a corner of the man Song Yunhyeong was. He’s charming and it was honestly quite endearing the way he hadn’t realized himself just how much damage he could do to a girl’s heart. Wasn’t till you had let on just how big of a crush your cheerleader best friend had on him that he finally began to explore this new side of himself. The man is handsome, there was no arguing there but he was so much more than that. Beautiful soul, and wonderful personality to match the attractiveness of his smile, and alluring voice. He was always just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. You hadn’t really seen him as anything else but as time changed, heart grown, and people matured, there was always something more in the hugs he had given you despite them being the same as the one you hated with all your guts at 6 years old. Then came college and their little duo of Yunhyeong and Jinhwan suddenly expanded into 7 crackheads going through life together, wrecking hearts and intimate parts, building quite a reputation for themselves. The parties came and gone, same too were the girls and the restless late nights, all that remained in his life was their unbreakable friendships... And you. You’ve always looked at him the same way you had but now that your heart was capable of feeling love and pussy capable of telling a dickhead from a true man... One second he was just Yoyo and the next, you were so far gone, you hadn’t even a single course of action for this feeling festering. So you did what you do best, let it simmered and stewed in your heart, not a single word to the man you still called best friend despite wanting so much more.

“Fine, call your vagina whatever you want... just not kitty... Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just, whenever you say it, I just imagine you have a vicious lioness in between your legs that’s gonna bite my dick off if I’m mean to you or something.” He muttered darkly and for whatever reason, you were given the impression that Song Yunhyeong actually believed you have a real lion in between your legs, sharp teeth, pointy claws and all.

“Excuse me, but my pussy is a proud lioness and I will viciously attack you in her honor if you dare offend her.” You weren’t joking and he knew full well, wincing as he shut off the water, muttering something under his breath that sounding awful lot like “girls are so scary”, before joining you on the couch. “Plus, what kind of porn you boys be watching these days anyways. now I’m just imagining a porn actress with a CGI lion instead of a vagina.”

“Can’t speak for the other boys but, I definitely have not and will not want to see anything like that. Nightmares.” You couldn’t help but cowered when Yunhyeong let his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Though you knew he was just pushing and tugging at you to make himself a comfortable spot to lay down, it seemed all the more damning to your soul with the conversation at hand. “Anyways, you haven’t answer my question.”

“What else do you want to know? I just use my hands, toys, and whatever else that get the job done!”

“Toys, huh? So, just not a real dick?” He deadpanned and honestly, how was this man was the same person once refused with all his life to swim in the same pool as you, simply because you had graduated from frumpy one piece to wearing bikini.

“Are you offering?”

“Maybe if you start being nice to me!” A wink teasing a blush onto your cheeks, you worked quick to shove him off before he could catch on to your erratic heart.

“Never mind, being nice to you is no fun.” You slapped his chest but feeling the steady beats of his heart under your palm only fueled further the storm in your heart.

“But for real though, what’s the harm in sleeping with people just for pleasure?”

“There’s nothing wrong nor harmful about it. I applaud women who literally live for themselves and couldn’t care less about what people say and get what they want in life. But I just, I know myself and I know I catch feelings. I just don’t think it’s fair for anyone to be subjected to my delusional heart when all they looked for was sex. It’d be great if I could just for that moment, push aside all emotions and feelings and give into those primal urges, but I’m too scare that I can’t. Plus, there’s something about sex when you’re in love that I, I don’t know, addicted to.” You hoped with all your heart he’d just give up, of not putting you through the long winded road that had lead you to be this hopeless romance.

“What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t understand even if I explain it for the millionth time. You just have to experience it... You have experienced it, right?” The way his eyes grown three times its size, the innocent curiosity teetering at his lips with all the questions his heart could ever dream of asking... It made you wonder if Yunhyeong had ever experienced true love.

“I- I don’t know.” He stammered and your heart shattered.

“But, you’ve had girlfriends and... What about your first time?” You curled up in your seat, leaning forward with all the anticipation, and a curiosity that mirrored his, perhaps even more.

“Just because I’ve had girlfriends, it doesn’t mean I’ve experienced love or this complicated emotion you’re describing. And my first time? It was a drunken one night stand in the frat house.” As nonchalant as ever with his sexual conquest, honestly you weren’t so surprise that his was neither planned, nor painfully awkward as yours was. It was admirable the way he went about things, getting what he wanted without really ever letting frilly matters of the heart getting in the way.

“Oh. I see.”

“I mean, don’t pity me or anything. I had fun and I guess that just mean I’ll get to experience something super special in the future.” He noted the way the corners of your lips dipping slightly into the tiniest frown and suddenly his heart too, ached. “I guess you could say I’m still waiting for someone special.”

“I not, I swear! I don’t mean to be condescending about it. I’m sorry if it came off that way. I just, thought that you’d have experienced it with at least one of your girlfriends.” Silent gently blanketing over your small living room. You let your eyes glued to the nonsense blasting on the TV screen and he too, though much less focus.

“Uhm, I can’t promise to understand but can you still explain it anyways...” A sheepish grin on his lips, Yunhyeong got his fingers scratching the daylight out of his poor scalp, eyes flickering between yours and his tapping foot. Suddenly the suave lady-man disappeared, leaving behind the sweet boy that had tormented you with his care through your entire high school career.

“Well, when you’re in love with someone, you’ll always see them as the best thing in this world even when the days had been rough and life hadn’t been kind. They’ll always see the best version of you even if you were going through the worst day of your life. So, needless to say, the same principle applied to sex.”

Your explanation got Yunhyeong at the edge of his seat, blindly reaching for the remote to turn down the TV as he got his eyes glued on you. The way he was staring, it made you wondered if he was mentally jotting all these down as if you were giving a crash course on love.

“Even with something as silly as body hair, if someone truly love you, they wouldn’t let something as trivial as a little hair getting in the way of enjoyment. Or if out of stress, out of exhaustion, you happened to under-perform, they wouldn’t care because there were and will be countless times when everything is great. Things you’d think as embarrassing, things that you would think twice about telling just anyone, that person would just see it as curiosity, as exploration. My point is, without having to worry about superficials, you’ll enjoy sex for what it is, fully and truly, transcending just a physical act but emotionally and spiritually.”

“I see...” You could hear the cogs in his brain churning, teeth chewing his soft lips raw.

“With sex, you can’t just phone up someone and ask them-” The realization of just whom you were talking about hitting you squarely in the chest like a freight train against a tiny, unsuspecting bunny. “Well, actually no, you probably could just phone up some girl and she’d be more than happy to oblige.”

“I’m not that popular, you know.” He drawn out a heavy breath with a small jab to your side, earning himself a sharp gasp of a laugh from your lungs.

“Okay, but still, I’m sure if no one else would, Jinhwan would suck your dick.” Your little jab earned yet another sharp glare from the man, on the edge of just mauling you himself. “For me, just thinking about calling someone up to ask for a no string attach, one night stand already is mortifying enough. Then there’s also the issue of who can I call, will they laugh in my face, would they take advantage of the situation. There’s so many issue that honestly, i’d be put off long before actually going through with it.”

“I honestly, I’ve never really thought about sex in that way. It always was just a way to release my frustration, something I enjoy.”

“And nothing wrong with that, I’m just too complicated for my own good. Hell, even if I somehow managed to score myself a fuck buddy, it’ll always be quid pro quo. I love the moments after when you’re just laying there cuddling, trying to catch your breath, sticky and sweaty. Limbs entangled, trying to figure out if you should just clean up or try your best to tetris yourself around the cum stained spots and fall asleep. Then the morning after, stinky breath and bedhead, remnant of an entire night of fun crusted yet you feel content. I want all of that and unless it’s with someone I love, I’d be way too self conscious to let go and enjoy myself.”

As the last syllable leaving your lips to join the softening atmosphere, warming with feelings, Yunhyeong sat in silent and you let him be for what you had just unloaded, probably too heavy for a random Sunday afternoon. Perhaps needing time to absorb, perhaps any second now he’d burst out laughing at your outdated ideology, Yunhyeong hadn’t let on a single emotion since your words melted into the world. Whatever will come, at the very least you got to let your heart sing in front of the man who it truly belonged to even if he doesn’t know it. For now you’d just bask in the comforting, content quietness, rarely the case whenever you and him were bound in one room. It was strange, how light you felt despite not anywhere nearing to confessing your feeling, not even a hint for the oblivious man to hang onto. Perhaps for now this was enough, to let him know the kind of person you are, your true emotions and state of mind.

“Would it be strange if after all that, all I can think about is you?”

“Woah, slow your roll... What does that mean?” Nothing could ever hope to prepare you for this moment when Song Yunhyeong confessed he thought of you when he thought of emotionally complicated sex.

“I- I’m not sure but, i keep thinking about it. Holding hands, lazy morning in bed, sweaty and exhausted yet content and happy, cleaning each other up, showering that may or may not lead to more... All of that, all I can see is you.” The warmth behind his beautiful eyes screamed sincerity, yet you couldn’t help but let a bit of doubt lingering in your heart, stopping you from devouring the man this very second.

“Are you just saying that because I like poured my heart out to you?” You questioned, half hoping he’d say no, yet you won’t succumb to hope just yet.

“No, no, not at all. Come on, Y/n, I’m not that emotionally inept that I fall for someone just because of a speech.” He pinched your cheeks and truthfully you were glad for it hid the blush heating up your skin. “I mean, like when I think of those things, I see me, of course. But it’s not with just anyone, or a faceless person... I see you, just peacefully snoozing in my arms. I see your fucked out expression but also that smile you only sport when you’re extremely happy. And, perhaps that also explained why I’ve been feeling strange when you’re around.” He had your heart in his hand and with each second ticking by, with the closing distant between your body, you were just a bit closer to passing out from the immense happiness warming your soul.

“Are you, do you like me?!”

“I- I think so. I don’t know how else to explain how incredibly happy these thoughts are making me. And no! before you can go ruining it, it’s not cause I pictured you naked.” He got both hands on your cheeks, shaking your head slightly with a fake scowl on his lips.

“I wasn’t going to say anything...” You muffled out through your pursed lips, wishing he’d just end your pain already and kiss you.

“I know how your brain work, lady. You can’t fool me.”

“Touche... So, what does that make us?”

“I guess, I need to know where I stand in your life... Do you, does it make things weird for you now that I have these feelings?” He was cautious, oh so cautious because it wasn’t just getting turn down by a snooty rich girl. It was getting turn down by you, his best friend and perhaps the person his heart had been beating so erratically for.

“Uhm, that, that might take awhile. I have about 5 years worth of feeling to catch you up on.” Eyes falling onto your laps, heart nearly leaping out of your chest, you couldn’t bear saying those words with Yunhyeong watching so closely.

“Fi- Five years?! God, Y/n, were you ever going to tell me how you feel?” His shriek of surprise nearly sending you tumbling onto the ground had it not been for the hands holding your shoulders.

“No, honestly. I’m sappy and all that but I’m just a chicken... If there’s even a 1% chance you’ll say no, I will keep my mouth shut for the rest of my life.”

“I- So if i hadn’t start this weird conversation, you would’ve never told me...”

“Pretty much...”

“You’re right, we have a lot to talk about.” A heavy sigh falling from his lips. To think all these years he had been bragging, smug about the girls he had slept with and the parties he had conquered. Knowing you’ve been listening, eating up all his words even when it was damaging to your heart...“And about what’s going to happen now... Well, I definitely do not want to rush into anything... You’re too precious for me to just fuck things up because I’m impatient.” As much as he’d like to whisk you off your feet and maybe finally experienced this new world of physical love, there were still too many things unsaid.

“I’m precious?!” You gasped with a bright smile on your lips, and as adorable as that was, it was becoming very distracting for his brain to properly function.

“Focus, woman!”

“Right, sorry...”

“But at the same time, I don’t want to drag things out for so long that it jeopardize our feelings. So how about we just take things slow, go on a couple dates and just see how it plays out?” He proposed an offer that you could never turn down.

“I’d like that.” And though neither of you yet brave enough to let a kiss bloom, Yunhyeong had finally worked up enough courage to pull you into his arms. He held you for what felt like an eternity, feeling the fluttering of butterfly in his stomach, in his heart, and in his soul. It was so strange, the nervousness, the anticipation, it wasn’t anything new, anything he hadn’t experienced before. Yet this very second, it felt as though the world ceased to exist and it was just you and him, sharing body heat and soft words, stories of the past, and plans for the future. Yunhyeong wondered if this was what you meant because if everything you had said was true, he couldn’t wait for the day when kisses won’t be a rare occurrent and he’ll be able to love, worship you in every way he can.

#yunhyeong #yunhyeong scenarios #ikon #ikon scenario #ikon imagines #ikon fanfic #song yunhyeong

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writer-and-artist27 · 5 years

Text

Tag Game: OC Interview

Tagged By: @langwrites. Thanks for the tag, Lang. :)))

Rules: Pick a character from your WIP, and have them answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people!

1. What is your full name?

“Hisako. Of the Hoshino family. Unofficially, Hoshino Hisako, if you want to be technical. Buuuuuut I don’t really have a last name. I am a Nobody after all. Got a problem with that, punk?”

2. What does your full name mean?

“You’re interviewing me and asking me this?” (pauses, looking a bit sullen) “The Hoshino is the nice part, being ‘in the star field’, but Hisako? It’s just plain ironic. It means, ‘long-lived child’ when, last I checked,” (she tugs at the hairband sitting on her wrist) “I look exactly like an 18-year old girl who died way too soon.”

3. What are your nicknames/other names?

“I just go by Hisako. Simple as that. Try to ask Tomoko-chan to see if she can come up with any names.”

4. What’s your gender?

“Female. Only thing I could be, really. Being an amalgamation of memories from another girl does that, after all.”

5. What’s your sexuality?

“Uhhhh. You’re really asking this?” (glances to the side) “Tomoko-chan, do I have to?”

“You have to, I think!”

“Goddammit.” (turns back to face the camera) “I’m not really into sex or people in general, so put me down as ace and we’re fine.”

“Then what’s with the jokes?”

“You make yourself too easy to tease, dear!”

“HISAKO!”

“Hehehe.”

[She’s neutral on stuff like that, but focuses a majority of her attention on Tomoko from Nobody reasons]

6. Where are you from?

(sarcastic) “From California! Hello? Former American!”

“Hisako!”

(turns toward the back, voice softer and more affectionate) “I know, honey! No need to remind me!” (turns back to the camera, expression sour) “Let’s just say I’m a part of that sweetheart over there. Don’t ask anymore than that. And no, we are not lovers. Get your head out of the goddamn gutter.”

7. How old are you?

(gives you a raised eyebrow before raising a hand to count off fingers) “1, 2, 3, 4… hm.” (lowers hand) “I look like an adult, I feel like an adult, yet the numbers add up to me being younger than an adult. 4-5-ish, the hand says. Oh well! Just say I’m 20 and go with that.” (sticks out tongue)

8. What is your magic form/species?

(looks around) “Nobody. So I could don the dark cloak and look creepy if you wanted me to.” (materializes Oblivion Keyblade with a cheery smile) “I could do that!”

9. What does your human form look like?

“Just like what you see. 5’2”, female. Long straight brown hair with no bangs, glasses, beauty mark on nose and on the chin, medium-sized chest and apparently noticeable hips—”

“Wh-Why are you mentioning that, Hisako?!”

“Because I can! It’s part of the question, honey!” (coughs into fist) “Anywho. I prefer wearing t-shirts and jeans. Sneakers are a nice plus because ninja sandals are too impractical. Can we move on?”

10. What’s your aesthetic?

“Simple yet badass. Is that how it works?”

11. Who’s your best friend?

“Who else could it be?” (smiles fondly) “Tomoko-chan is my whole world. Literally.”

“H-Hisako…”

“I love you too, honey!”

12. Would you ever get a piercing/tattoo?

“Hell yeah! I probably should look into it when I can… maybe a tattoo on my arm or something! That would look cool! And being a Nobody means no one’s gonna look in the hot springs!”

13. When are you happiest?

(smiles softly again) “When my charge is happy. And that’s when she’s safe and with friends and family she cares most about. Simple as that.”

14. What’s your biggest secret?

(stares into the camera like the Office) “That I’m not actually human. And that I will die before Tomoko-chan one day.” (pauses, clears throat) “Don’t tell her the last part.”

15. What was your first impression of ______?

“Of Tomoko-chan? Far too nervous. Vulnerable.” (smiles fondly) “Someone who looked like she needed a friend above all else. And well, I’m not leaving her now.”

(huffs, hands on hips) “Kakashi could use some work in social skills, but then again, my own charge has anxiety, so they get along in silence with books and piano just fine. He’s definitely a lot better than his angst-filled Canon self at least.” (grins) “I like him, got a problem?”

“Obito deserves so much better. The Uchiha Clan doesn’t deserve to even have him in their ranks, the assholes. I don’t care what the others say — Obito is a great ninja and needs more friends. He’s cool.”

“Rin-chan? She needs more friends too. I’m starting to worry with her status as Beta-Sakura in Kishimoto’s script that she might go down a dark path with that heart of hers, especially with her hospital position, but she seems okay. I’ll have to remind Tomoko-chan to spend more time with her just in case.”

(blinks) “Kei?” (grins wolfishly) “She’s awesome. She calls out Tomoko-chan more than me, while being a ninja! And, not to mention…” (smiles more fondly) “She’s Tomoko-chan’s reincarnation buddy. And in this kind of dipshit world, where death is guaranteed for almost everyone at one point or another, painful or not, to have her is a blessing.” (expression evens out to something unreadable) “I hope their friendship lasts beyond my days…”

“Otoha… Hm. I’m actually not sure what to say aside from, ‘I’m glad they’re here,’ because first impressions weren’t exactly great.” (barks out a laugh) “Their death stare seemed way too on point! But Tomoko-chan loves them, so I’m not going to complain. More reincarnation buddies to help destroy any Canon threats, the better!”

Tagging: No one. Whoever wants to do this, go ahead!

#hisako #tag game #oc things #langwrites #i got tagged #hoshino tomoko #civilian pianist #the sea and stars #silent feathers #hatake kakashi #keisuke gekko #uchiha obito #nohara rin #otoha kuroki #long post

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wrinkledparchment · 6 years

Text

Autophobia // Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: You have autophobia, a fear of abandonment. After Betty’s “disappearance”, you and Bill have an encounter after you trash talk Bowers, leading to the two of you comforting each other over your losses.

Word Count: 2,131

A/N: This fic is so much worse than Neighbourhood Playground, which is honestly one of my best works. Also, I actually have autophobia, and it sucks. Also, I have a couple other fics in the works, and I’m considering writing for Richie and Stan, but like, my boy Billiam needs more attention. I always see so many works for Stan and Richie, whereas Big Bill, Spaghetti Monster and Silence of the Lambs have so little fics, and even Bill has more fics than the others.

Warnings: Angsty fluff. You being upset about Betty, Bill being upset about Georgie, but you all comfort each other in the end! <3

Autophobia - The fear of abandonment or being abandoned by a loved one

Your body was being wracked by sobs, tears flowing down your face freely and forcefully. Your eyes were red and itchy, wishing that all the water droplets could streamline down your face in one final motion, leaving nothing left to weep out.

After years of avoiding friendships, -- or relationships of any kind, for that matter -- the one person you allowed yourself was gone. The warm liquid that had just stung your eyes dropped onto the crisp, white piece of paper you clutched in your hands. Missing.

“Betty,” you managed to croak out, “you promised.”

Looking at the poster, you knew exactly what had happened. Children in Derry were going missing left and right, and it was only a matter of time before one of you were taken. Regardless, it didn’t feel real. You didn’t want it to be real.

Oh, how you wished it was you. So selfish, right? Rather than suffer the pain of the only person in this hell you trusted being gone, you could simply disappear, cease to exist. Pain couldn’t hold you so tightly anymore, for you could no longer feel it.

No, this was not about you. It was about Betty Ripsom, a sweet, innocent girl who -- unlike you -- was still intact. Still so young and naive, not having to face the cold, harsh reality that one day everyone you love will be 6 feet under the ground.

You had faced that reality all your life, beginning when you were only 7 and your mother had been driven to suicide by her depression. Then, when your grandmother passed away, and after that, in the 6th grade, when your 10th-grade friend was murdered in cold blood. The unforgiving town of Derry loved to take away the cherished and to leave the others broken in their midst.

For the rest of the school year, you trudged around the Derry High School and Middle School hallway, alone. On the last day of school, you heard the Losers Club talk about Jewish traditions. You just sighed and walked past them, and when you walked out, you saw your best friend’s mother waiting at the entrance. She saw you and gave you a sad smile and carried on searching the crowd of adolescents for her daughter.

You, as usual, gently held the missing poster. You could still see the spot where your tears had dried, slightly wrinkling the paper and blurring the text in which was a description of Betty. You kept the poster, of course, as memorabilia. As a reminder of why you should never get close to someone. As you walked in you saw the Bowers Gang taunting the Losers Club, and then he made eye contact with you.

“You’re lucky, boys. I’ve got a new target,” he said, striding his way to you.

The Losers recognized you, you were considered the prettiest girl in the school but considering you refused to talk to anyone after Betty’s death, you weren’t popular. Naturally, two of the boys had a crush on you. Stanley Uris and Bill Denbrough.

But those thoughts were cleared from your head as Bowers stopped in front you. You swallowed hard, giving him puppy dog eyes and holding the barely-intact paper in your hands.

“Betty Ripsom still getting you down, huh? Maybe you should hang out with us. Forget that useless little bitch.” he said.

The sadness in your eyes was replaced with boiling anger, rage and infuriation at this boy who had the audacity to call your best friend -- who was dead, mind you -- a bitch.

“What the hell did you just say to me about my dead best friend?” you asked fiercely. You could hear Richie whooping in the background. “I called her a useless bitch, and even that is an understatement.” he spat.

“No, an understatement is that your father regrets bringing such an egotistical asshole with a disregard for hygiene and a love of mullets into this world,” you stated.

He visibly tensed and strutted even closer to you, threatening you without saying a word. His actions said it all.

“Why don’t you try being nicer to me, princess?” he asked, looking you up and down. The Losers Club got closer, ready to defend you.

“I’ll try being nicer if you try to be less of a dipshit, though I feel the effort would only be one-sided. Now, may I be blessed with you and friends’ absence?” you asked. You looked behind you at the Sheriff, and Bowers got the message. Richie’s laugh was very audible.

“I’ll be sure to get you back for this.” he hissed.

“Oh, and I’m sure your ‘daddy’ will stop disowning you,” you stated, raising your eyebrow. Bowers shook his head in disgust and walked away with his gang. “Holy shit, you’re better at insults than me!” Richie stated, running to you while the Losers Club attempted to catch up.

When Bill caught up, he looked at the poster in your hand, recognizing the tear splotches and the wrinkles from when you had to clutch it so hard to ease the tension in your mind.

“I’m s-sorry about Betty, Y/N.” Bill stuttered, swallowing as you made eye contact.

“It’s alright, Bill. It was bound to happen anyways,” you stated, breaking the eye contact and looking at the ground.

“What do you mean?” Stanley asked. “Eventually everyone dies. And after the… disappearances… I knew that it was either going to be Betty or me. I just wish that… it would’ve been me,” you slowly stated. You didn’t like the way your voice broke under the thought of it.

“But- um, I don’t want to be a nuisance. I’ll let you guys enjoy your time,” you stated, walking away before they could get the chance to object.

No friends. What if they disappear again? What if… I’m the reason?

Sitting in your bedroom, sulking, was almost always what you did. Today was no exception. You stared blankly at the wall, as classical violin music played through your small room. You decided you needed to occupy your mind, so you picked up your violin, paused the record player and began to bow away. Of course, a particularly sad tune ended up echoing through the room.

Suddenly, you heard your father yell, “Y/N! Someone’s here for you. Sending them up!”

You just sighed and continued to play, halting only when you heard a knock on your door. “Come in,” you said. And soon enough, the door was open, along with your mouth. In your doorway stood Bill Denbrough, your next door neighbour and childhood crush.

“Y/N, you and Bill are practically made for each other!” Betty squealed, smiling wide at you. It was a typical sleepover night at your house when you two revealed your crushes.

You shook your head and your eyes stayed put on the floor underneath your sitting figure, hiding in shame. “No, Bill and I… he doesn’t even know who I am,” you stated.

“One day, he’ll come around. Bill and you would be the perfect couple!” she stated stubbornly, refusing to give in to your belief; that Bill would never so much as pay attention to you.

And here you were, staring at Bill who was currently in your room, looking back and forth between the violin and your face. “You play?” he asked. You nodded and began to set the violin back into its case.

“So what’s up, Bill?” you asked. When your voice was soft like that, it sent his heart into a frenzy. “I j-ju-just wanted to h-hang o-out,” he stated. You looked back at him and smiled, your beautiful (e/c) eyes gleaming in the sunlight. Bill’s heart could’ve exploded, his ribcage could’ve broken under the immense pressure from the rapid beating of his adolescent heart.

“Well, let’s hang out then!” you said, and walked over to your record player. Taking off Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, you then walked over to your stereo and inserted your favourite vinyl. ‘Stayin’ Alive’ started to ring throughout the room and you sat on your bed. Looking over at his seemingly happy form, you smiled. Your childhood crush was standing in front of you.

“So, what do you want to do?” you asked curiously, swinging your legs to and fro. Bill smiled, “I was hoping y-you wanted to hang out with me and my friends at the b-barrens tomorrow.” The barrens were literally disgusting, and you couldn’t imagine wanting to hang out there, but if Bill was going, you were going. You shrugged, “Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do,” you stated, hopping off the bed and walking over to Bill. “But I also don’t have anything to do right now. Go for a walk with me?” you asked.

Bill swallowed hard, and so many sentences beginning with ‘What if’ rang through his mind. There were numerous ways the boy could screw this up. Then, he landed on his final ‘What if’ question; What if she enjoys my company and wants to hang out with me again? It was a small step forward, but it seemed to urge Bill in the right direction.

“Of course, where would we be going?” he asked. You shrugged and gave him a smirk. You began to walk out your door, though you stopped to wait for Bill, signalling him to follow you. Trailing along like a lost puppy, Bill started to panic. Why did he agree to this?

“So, Bill, what’s your opinion on dad jokes?” you asked, a little giggle gracing the air around you at the end. Bill couldn’t help but smile at your question, and the sound you made asking it.

“Well, I’m the master of dad jokes,” Bill smirks, looking at you.

You scoffed, “Oh please, I’m the queen of dad jokes.”

“And I’m king of the dad jokes. Ruler almighty,” he joked, and you laughed a bit at the end.

You continued to joke around about things you’d heard Richie say, or make jokes about random things that popped into your mind. “Well, Y/N, what scares you?” Bill asked. Oh god, would you sound crazy if you said you were afraid of abandonment? Would he think you were weird, or…

“I have autophobia,” you stated before you could stop yourself. You wanted to take it back, you didn’t think before you spoke.

“What is that?” he asked. “It’s… a fear of abandonment. Of people abandoning you.” you stated.

Bill immediately felt a damper on the light mood that used to be. His thoughts went to Georgie. “Is that why you had such a hard time after…” Bill didn’t want to finish the sentence. “You know, sometimes I still see Georgie.”

You looked to him, “I’m so sorry about him, Bill. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose someone that close to you.”

“But you lost Betty, so you have also lost someone close to you.”

“But, every time you walk into your house when Georgie normally would have been there... It’s so different, and you have to face it over and over again. You wouldn’t even feel comfortable at your own home, because even that is a reminder.”

Bill just nodded, and he noticed you had stopped walking. He realized there was a creek in front of him, and you turned yourself towards him completely. “Hey, hey. Bill, look at me,” you said, trying to get his eyes to focus on you. He turned and made eye contact, watching as your hand raised ever so gently to wipe his tears away with your thumb.

Looking in his eyes, your thoughts began to wander. You were getting attached, you were about to enter treacherous waters. But it was too late.

Bill quickly pulled you in for a hug, squeezing your smaller body against his tightly. “You’re not alone, Y/N. I’ll never abandon you.” Bill whispered into your hair.

“You’ll never have to worry about me disappearing, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.” Betty soothed, watching you with worried eyes.

Your breathing had started to regulate once again and your tears were starting to dry. You lost your older best friend, one that you and Betty cherished like the sun and the stars. And you had a panic attack.

This endless chain of heartbreak, death and suffering would, obviously, never end. And that led you to the question, ‘Who was next?’ You knew that the world loved to rip loved ones away from you. So, naturally, Betty was next on the hit list of death.

You almost started sobbing right then and there, “That’s what Betty said, and look at where she is now.”

“I s-swear, nothing will happen to me. A-as long as y-you’re around, I h-have a r-reason to live.”

He promised.

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ghosty-schnibibit · 5 years

Text

SO HOW ABOUT THAT NEW TAZ EP

full disclosure, the back third of this liveblog is pretty much pure capslock, i just got done listening to this on two hours of sleep after having written an entire ass medieval history essay in one night along with my final in my shakespeare class at nine am today, i had a lot of emotions and just went full karkat on that shit

WE'RE PRETTY NERVOUS TOO GRIFFIN

oh no, poor justin lol

"the memes for ned have been pretty hot lately" YA DON'T SAY GRIFFY

ned you dipshit i love you

ned's been practicing his cantrips lmao

loving ned's instincts to go back to his partners

p r o f e s s o r f i l e s

oooooh boy this is really not great, maybe don't go where everyone will probably want to kill you ned :|

G L U E Y

WAIT WHAT???

THIS IS NOT DANI, THIS IS NOT DANI

oh thank good ned has caught on

YEP DANI WASN'T DANI IN THE LODGE EITHER, CALLED IT

OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS TERRIFYING

oh nice, go strategy ned!

ned as the weird uncle is a good character summation

god bless you travis for putting this much thought into this

1. pendant, 2. confusion, 3. anger

i love you my impulsive daughter so much

"it fits you perfectly" i... i am legit tearing up, holy shit, god damn griffin

huh. that's interesting. i'm gonna go on a quick little theory tangent: i think that the flamebright pendent is a missing chunk of sylvain, specifically the chunk that had the last remnants of sylvain, the entity, within it. aubrey's mom mentioned that she was wearing it when she gave birth to aubrey, right? i think the reason there's no magic in the pendant now was because it was all transferred into aubrey when she was born. she's a reincarnation of sylvain. that's my theory and i'm sticking to it.

JAKE! YAY JAKE!

"i'm sorry to cuss" JAKE MY PRECIOUS BABY BOY

are they going to barricade the lodge?

THAT'S NOT GREAT

oh jake you sweet little angel i love you

"I CAN'T REMEMBER UNLESS I'M IN THE DAMN CAR JAKE" if that is not the biggest mood i don’t know what is

correct! very good!

frasier dad energy

JOHN MULANEY

justin has so many fun stories

i love you griffin lol

i don't think its a test there rachel

NICE! go duck! :D

VERY BAD MUSIC, VERY GOOD BUT VERY BAD MUSIC

OH HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS TERRIFYING

OH GOD IT'S THE FUCKING BLOB FROM INSIDE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I'M SO SCARED RIGHT NOW OH MY FUCKING GOD

PLEASE TELL ME DUCK AT LEAST HAS BEACON ON HIM

OH HOLY FUCK NO, HELP FARGO LADY PLEASE

i love duck so much and i am so fucking scared for him

"that worked well" god i want to listen to that mbmbam bit now

burgley :D

god that's some beautiful visuals griffin

oh no, i knew this moment was coming and i'm still not prepared

i have not felt this much emotion since the balance finale and i'm shaking

oh my god travis this is some stellar emotion

... holy shit, clint mcelroy, that was the most heart-wrenching vocal performance i have ever witnessed in my life and i'm crying for ned, holy fucking shit

"what did you do?" i am f l o o r e d

aww boyd :'(

this level of complexity to ned as being pushed into escalating gigs he isn't comfortable with by boyd is making me so sad, i can really get all the "you ruined my life" talk from ned now

god this entire scene is just... god this is so sad

oh my god ned that is so dumb looking holy shit

... was he legit trying to warn her dad about boyd?

don't discourage this griffin i love this, i love getting ned's inner thoughts

the mental image of little eighteen y/o aubrey just grabbing a tennis racket and going to face a murderer is just... oh you poor baby :’(

"gotta be true to ned" damn clint you are so good this season

OH MY GOD NO NED DO NOT

holy shit i do not feel bad about boyd being murdered by the abomination anymore, what a monster, goddamn

jesus christ clint these rolls are so bad

"well congratulations" love the sarcasm there griffy

... he's going to hit her isn't he

where's the mom where's the mom where's the mom

OH SHIT

OH MY GOD AUBREY HOLY SHIT

JESUS THIS IS NOT GOOD, THIS IS VERY NOT GOOD

oh god ned

aubrey i'm s o b b i n g

jesus christ i was not emotionally prepared for this episode, god damn

YEP! YEP IT IS!!! I'M GONNA GO MAKE THAT TEA BECAUSE I'M VERY UPSET!!!!!

i'm so hype for rockport limited but i'm so upset still

oh dang i'll have graduated by then :o

god do i love duck newton

OH GOD THAT'S FUCKING HORRIBLE HOLY SHIT

WHAT ARE YOU DOING DUCK

"THAT'S ABOUT ZILCHO" I LOVE YOU DUCK YOU BRILLIANT BOY

YES USE THE LUCK TO SAVE FARGO LADY

OH NO OH NO OH NO

god i fucking love you justin mcelroy

you let aubrey do it last time griffin, let duck do it now!!!

NICE! THANK YOU DICE GODS FOR SPARRING MY BOY!!!

i love duck and i love his dynamic with literally every character he interacts with

OH NO NOT THE SPOOKY MUSIC AGAIN

LEO NO HOLY FUCKING SHIT

... is ned going to leave kepler??? oh my god

OH NOPE THAT'S THE ABOMINATION NOISE

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO TERRIBLE OH MY GOD, THIS EPISODE IS SO BODY HORROR HEAVY

"WHAT DID YOU TAKE FROM ME" IT'S LOSING ITS FORM BECAUSE OF THE THING NED STOLE AT THE HOTEL, THAT'S WHY IT'S DYING, OH MY GOD, HOW DID I NOT MAKE THAT CONNECTION BEFORE

EVERYTHING YOU'RE DESCRIBING IS HORRIFYING GRIFFIN HOLY SHIT

JESUS CHRIST THAT SUDDEN VOICE CHANGE GRIFFIN

i am so worried about ned

"it doesn't make sense to the spider when you step on it" JESUS CHRIST GRIFFIN

... i am not liking the way he just paused there. i am not liking the way he's acting like he knows what's going to happen. reeeally not liking the implication that maybe indrid is linked to this somehow

NICE, NICE, NICE, GO NED! GO NED! GO NED!

YEEEEEAH, GO NED!!!!!

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST GRIFFIN

OH MY GOD, THIS IS ALL HAPPENING BEFORE IT GOT TO DUCK, I NEED SOMEONE TO MAKE A MAP OF THE TIMELINE OF THIS EPISODE BECAUSE I'M SO CONFUSED

griffin you have put me through the ringer tonight you do not get to kill leo on me after all this shit you've done to me this episode

"say you're sorry first!" god i fucking love duck newton with all my heart

OH NO, OH GOD LEO'S GOING TO DIE

"i don't think i'm going to do the obvious one" you mean killing leo

WAIT WOULD DUCK HAVE DIED IF HE HADN'T LEVELED UP JUST THEN?????

NOOOOOOOOOO LEO HOLY FUCKING SHIT NO

OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK THEY'VE FIGURED OUT HOW TO NOT DIE WITHOUT FORMS??? OH MY GOD WHAT IS GOING ON?????

whenever griffin says "we see" i get scared

MINERVA :DDDDD

EVERYTHING IS SAD AND HORRIBLE AND TERRIFYING BUT AT LEAST WE GOT MINERVA BACK

#ghosty liveblogs taz #taz spoilers #taz #taz amnesty #the adventure zone #I'M STILL FREAKING OUT AND IT'S BEEN LIKE HALF AN HOUR #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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lumiolivier · 3 years

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The Good Old Days Chapter 28: World's Greatest Wingman

A/N: Hi, friends! So, I'm currently rolling. I'm the ok fingers emoji close to snapping. I could use all the validation I could get. Love you! x

Just what I need. A good, long night at the office with my pain in the ass hermanita. Just a little something, something to clear my head. Yeah, I miss Vanessa. I’m going to. I love her. She’s an ocean away. That’s bound to happen. But for the sake of my o9wn sanity, I need to keep going. The world doesn’t stop turning because Vanessa’s in a different part of it. It just feels like it does. Still, I need to keep moving. March…It’s only until March.

“Morning, boss,” I walked into the Old Man’s office like I did every other night as if nothing happened. Everything’s fine. What do you mean, I seem different? Of course not. I’m fine, “What do I got today?”

“Necesitamos hablar, Francisco,” the Old Man got serious, “Siéntate.”

Oh, shit…Why did I have that same feeling I’d get when Mama had a wooden spoon in her hand? I did as he asked me and sat across from him. The Old Man taught me how to read people, but his face was written in Greek, “What’s up?”

“Your mother’s worried about you, Frankie,” the Old Man began, pouring himself a glass of scotch.

“When isn’t she4?” I laughed him off, quietly praying this would be the end of it.

“Frankie…” he stood his ground, “You act like Sariña and I don’t talk. She asked me to keep an especially close eye on you tonight.”

“When did you talk to my mother?”

“When you weren’t even getting out of bed,” the Old Man growled, “You scared the shit out of her. At one point, she thought you were dead. At least until she noticed you were breathing again. Now, when I met you, kid, I never thought I’d ever ear your mother so scared. When I met that kid in the restaurant that night, I didn’t think anything could crush him more than working there. So, what did I do? Me being the kind-hearted Samaritan I am, I offered him a new home. Something a little more loving and nurturing than soul crushing. Talk to me, Frankie. What happened?”

“Vanessa’s gone,” I told him, probably being a little blunter than I needed to be. I knew he wasn’t going to let up, so I might as well, “She’s gone, Old Man. She left this morning for Italy and I’ve been a little depressed ever since.”

“I figured the girl had something to do with it,” he winced, “Shit…I’m so sorry, kid. That sucks. Tell you what. How about I give you the night off, so you can get your head right?”

“You don’t have to do that,” I shot him down, “I can shake it off for the sake of professionalism. No worries.”

“Not tonight,” the Old Man insisted, “You stick around home tonight. We’ll go sit at the bar, throw a few back. It feels like ages since you and I had a drink together. Has it been since you started working for me?”

“We had to,” I thought back, “I really do appreciate the concern, Old Man, but I got it. Really. Where am I going tonight?”

“You’re going to the bar tonight,” he ordered, “Plain and simple. You don’t get to call the shots around here yet, kid. I do. So, if I tell you you’re sitting at the bar tonight and getting paid to do so, then so be it. My word around these parts is law. You know that.”

“I do,” I nodded, “But perhaps the occasional bit of council doesn’t hurt.”

“When it’s unsolicited,” the Old Man got up and slammed the rest of his scotch, “It gets a little under my skin. That’s when it’s overstepping. I pretty much let you get away with murder here, Frankie. That’s not a charmed position everyone gets to be in. There are few in this world that can ask me to jump and I’ll ask them how high they want me. But right now, you’re starting to piss me off. I know you want to go out and run this town, but you can’t do that when you’re like this. And this is one of those things that will take a sec to heal. You can’t always just rub some dirt in it and call it a day. Trust me. That’s all I’m asking. I’m worried about you and this is my way of fixing it. So, I’m not going to send one of my guys that’s not in his right mind out to take care of my shit. Got it?”

“Got it.” Mama’s spoon would’ve been nicer.

“Go get a drink,” he nudged me out the door.

“Alright,” I got up from my chair, “And by the way, Old Man…”

“What?” he snapped a bit. Alright…I see he’s still a little heated. And I couldn’t blame him.

“There might be someone coming by tonight…” I bit the inside of my cheek, “That may or may not be underage…”

“No,” the Old Man put his foot down, “No, no, no. We’re not doing that, Frankie. We don’t let minors in here. Once we start allowing that, cops come in and start sniffing around. And that’s really something we don’t need. Granted, with the local fuzz, we’re on pretty good terms. They don’t fuck with my shit. I don’t fuck with theirs unless they need a consultant. But we don’t allow minors here.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” a voice screeched from the bar. I think everyone in the Narrows could’ve heard that one.

Speak of the devil…The Old Man shot me an angry glare. Yeah…I think it’s safe to say I’m pretty high on the Old Man’s shit list right now, “Handle it. Now.”

“Got it, boss,” I took off for the bar and pried Veronica out of the arms of the bouncers. Damn, Veronica…It took two of them for one of you? Color me impressed, “Guys! Guys! Let her go. She’s with me.”

“It’s like I told you fucking meatheads when I walked in,” Veronica shook them off, “I’m not in here to get wasted.”

“Hey,” I pulled Veronica into my chest, “Relax, Veronica. You’re alright, kiddo. You’re safe.”

“Hi, Frankie,” Veronica’s face lit up very quickly, “I told you I’d be in here tonight. Why the fuck did Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit grab me at the door?”

“Because it’s not often we let an eighteen-year-old in here,” I explained, bringing her to the bar, “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault,” she let it go, “Did you not tell anyone I’d be here?”

“I just told the boss minutes before you came in,” I chuckled a bit, “If we’re being honest.”

“Oh, god…” the Old Man came out of his office, “Just what we need. Another fucking Scarlotti to corrupt.”

“Love you, too, Old Man,” Veronica giggled, running into the Old Man’s arms.

“Hi, Veronica,” he kissed her forehead, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know I make it a habit to hang around miscreants and troublemakers,” she shrugged, “But I felt like hanging around a different breed tonight.”

“Organized miscreants and troublemakers?” the Old Man poked at her.

“Only the most organized,” Veronica smiled, “I mean…You got to the top somehow, didn’t you?”

“Alright,” he relaxed, “She can stay. It’s not every day I make this exception, sweetheart.”

“I know.”

“After what happened last time, though,” the Old Man let it go, “There’s nowhere safer in the city for you than right here.”

“Damn straight,” Veronica made herself comfortable at the bar.

“Hey,” the Old Man flagged down the bartender, “Do not serve her.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Old Man…” Veronica awed, “Come on…Rude.”

“You’ll live,” the Old Man assured her, “Frankie…”

“Yeah?” I perked up, thanking God for putting Veronica on this Earth. The Old Man was about to blow a fucking gasket and I didn’t want to be the one he blew up on.

“She’s your responsibility tonight,” he ordered, “You wanted work so bad? There’s your assignment. I need to go see a guy across town. You kids play nice. Raincheck on that drink.”

“Alright,” I wasn’t going to fight him. It’s not like I was in the position to. If I would’ve said two more words, I had a feeling the Old Man would’ve brought my ass to the warehouse and that’s somewhere I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.

Once the Old Man left, Veronica flagged the bartender down yet again, “Can I get a rum and diet Coke please?”

“No, you cannot,” the bartender shot her down.

“Son of a bitch!” she pouted, “Seriously? The Old Man’s not even here.”

“His word is law around here, Veronica,” I threw an arm around her, “Sometimes, you learn that one the hard way.”

“What did you do, Frankie…?” Veronica gasped.

“I didn’t do anything.” That she needed to know about, “I’m just saying.”

“I ask for one damn drink,” she rolled her eyes, “It’s not like I can’t handle myself.”

Regrets were about to be had. I could feel it. But I leaned into Veronica’s ear, making sure to keep my voice down, “I’ll see if I can score you something later. The current bartender gets off at midnight. I’ll jump behind the bar until last call.”

“Bless you,” Veronica kissed my cheek, “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Because the fact that I’m in love with your sister has nothing to do with it. I had to be honest. I didn’t mind hanging out with Veronica for the night. For a while, I thought all I’d be doing is wishing she were her sister instead, but no. It was a genuine good time. Maybe the Old Man was right. Maybe I did need a night off to get my head right again. And if throwing a couple drinks back with one of my favorite people in the world is how I do that, then so be it. I’ll take this any day of the week.

As the night went on and midnight was upon us, I jumped behind the bar and started slinging drinks. I got a little too caught up in it and ended up losing Veronica, but I knew she was still here. And that was ok. As long as she stayed here, nothing could go wrong. And everything would be ok. The Old Man couldn’t get pissed at me for letting Veronica out of my sight. Veronica was still in a safe and controlled environment. Everything’s great. However, out of nowhere, I found her again. Or, the more accurate description, she found me.

“Frankie, holy shit!” Veronica bolted up to the bar.

“Jesus Christ, Veronica,” I caught my breath, “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…” she freaked, “But I need a wingman.”

“What?” I looked at her strange, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I need a fucking wingman,” Veronica slammed the seltzer water I put on the counter for her and subtly pointed toward the jukebox, “Over there.”

A blue-eyed beauty with a bright pink streak in her dark brown hair stood there, flipping through the catalog without a care in the world, “What about her?”

“She’s who I need the wingman for…”

“She’s cute, Veronica,” I applauded her taste.

“Hell yeah, she is,” Veronica swooned, “I didn’t intend to come in here trolling for ass, but…I want that one.”

“Alright, alright,” I settled her, “Chill, killer. See if you can get her over here and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I love you, Frankie,” she threw her arms around me, “I really appreciate it.”

“I love you, too,” I nudged her away, “Good luck, kiddo.”

“Thanks…” And there she goes. I got a better look at the lady that caught Veronica’s eye. Huh…She seemed kind of like the impossible dreamer type. She’s the kind of girl that’s going to either make Veronica fall in love or completely break her to pieces. Blisters and calluses on her fingers, more eye makeup than one person had a right to, but who was I to judge? Musician, I bet. It wouldn’t surprise me. If she was enough to make Veronica turn into a lost puppy around her, she must be something special.

“And so,” the Old Man came back and pulled up a seat at the bar, “Love claims another victim?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I started mixing him a drink.

“Looks like those Scarlotti girls have a type,” he teased.

“Very cute,” I giggled, “When’d you get back?”

“A couple minutes ago,” the Old Man tipped his drink to me, “How have things been since I left?”

“Not too bad,” I poured myself a little something, something, “Relatively simple. How’d your meeting go?”

“Can’t complain,” he reported, “Pretty alright as far as I’m concerned.”

“Excuse me,” a newly familiar face came to the bar. Oh, she’s all covered in piercings, too. No wonder Veronica fell so hard. The girl’s a sucker for hardware, “Can I get a rum and Coke please?”

Huh…Interesting…Veronica like rum. I know I’m not supposed to serve her, but how am I supposed to know if she’s going to give this to Veronica or not. Although, I could see Veronica sweating by a corner table, so maybe she could use a little drink. I know I’m not supposed to serve her, but sorry, Old Man. I can’t leave her dying like that, “Sure.”

“Thank you,” she sat at the bar and waited for me.

I mixed a straight rum and Coke for her and handed her another one. That one was diet. Veronica was picky, but right now, I had a feeling she wasn’t going to care as long as it had a proof. I slid the glasses across the bar, “Here. Second one’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

“Hey…” I stopped her before she could get away and nodded toward Veronica twiddling her thumbs, “She seems kind of tense. I bet one of those could mellow her out.”

“I just met her tonight,” she played with her lip ring, “Do you know her?”

“Yeah, I know her,” I nodded, “She’s a little trouble, but nothing too detrimental. A little trouble, but a good heart.”

“And she’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” she looked back over at Veronica, “In that whole Catholic schoolgirl fantasy kind of way. Yeah?”

“I suppose so.” It felt weird thinking of someone I saw as a little sister in that light, but sure. Whatever works for her.

“This might be asking a lot,” she winced, “But…Do you know if she’s…tasting the rainbow, if you know what I mean?”

I figured it out. I looked over at Veronica, who must have heard the conversation. Because if she nodded any faster, she’s going to end up with whiplash. And that was all the permission I needed, “Yeah. She does. What’s your name?”

“Tessa,” she introduced herself, “I just moved to town a couple days ago.”

“Well, Tessa,” I grabbed my drink and toasted with her, “Welcome to the mean streets of New York City. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Good luck with Veronica.”

“Thanks,” Tessa blushed a bit, “Hey…You don’t think I could…I mean, I know we just met, too, but you don’t think I could ask you a favor…Do you?”

“What else am I here for other than to be the friendly neighborhood bartender?” I shrugged, “What can I do for you?”

“Since you know Veronica,” she asked, “Do you think…Maybe you could kind of wingman for me? Like I said, I really don’t know many people here yet and my roommates were being a little loud tonight, so you’re kind of the best I got here…I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask you your name and I’m already asking for favors.”

“It’s Frankie,” I introduced myself, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Veronica and see what I can do.”

“Thank you so much,” Tessa beamed, “I really do appreciate it.”

“No problem…” I’m smelling a pattern here.

“Look at you…” the Old Man praised, “Playing devil’s advocate, are we, Frankie?”

“I’m just helping a sister out,” I finished off my drink and got another one, “Do you mind if I go on break, Old Man?”

“You’re not even technically on the clock, kid,” he let me go, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were excited about this.”

“If my love story’s on hold,” I hopped the bar, “Then, why not live vicariously through someone else’s?”

“Make me proud, Frankie…”

“Will do,” I went over to Veronica and Tessa’s table, “Evening, ladies.”

“Frankie…” Veronica looked at me so lost and confused. And yet, something in her eyes said what the fuck am I doing here and to fuck off, “What brings you here?”

“I work here,” I pointed out, “And I figured I’d come over and say hi.”

“Do you mind?” Veronica got defensive. That’s her nerves running on high. And I can’t blame her for that, “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“I see that,” I glanced at the other side of the table, “Hi, Tessa.”

“Hi, Frankie,” Tessa finished off her drink.

“Look…I’m going to be honest with you,” I sat down, “This girl here? She’s an absolute sweetheart. And I love her like she’s my own.”

“Oh…” Tessa got jumpy, her eyes shifting between Veronica and me, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were already seeing someone, Veronica. I’ll just…”

“No, no,” I stopped her, “It’s not like that. You asked me at the bar if I knew Veronica. And I told you yes. But that’s because I’m dating her older sister. It’s not like that with us.”

“Oh…” Tessa let out a little sigh of relief, “Ok…”

“Frankie, I love you,” Veronica jammed the heel of her boot into my toes, “And we can catch up later. I promise. But right now, I’m kind of busy.”

“Actually, Veronica,” Tessa chimed in, “Do you…maybe want to get out of here? I know a place uptown that’s not too far from my apartment building. If that’s alright.”

“Um…” Veronica didn’t know what to do. She was absolutely frozen in her seat. But she looked to me almost as if she were asking permission. She knew I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her tonight, but it was getting to be that time again where I was fully off the clock.

“Just be careful, ok?” I threw my arms around her, keeping my voice down, “I suggest being back home by daylight. We don’t need another kidnapping incident on our hands. It’s bad enough we had Vanessa and me. I don’t want to see you go through that same level of bullshit.”

“Bold of you to assume anyone even knows I’m gone,” Veronica kissed my cheek, “I’ll see you later, Frankie. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I sent Veronica and Tessa off to God knows where to hopefully have a good time. I didn’t get any bad vibes from Tessa. She seemed alright.

I went back to the bar and had one last drink. Something to bring this fairytale to its end. Yet, the Old Man looked at me just as lost as Veronica did, “What the hell just happened?”

“I just set my sister up with a lovely young lady,” I sipped on my rum. You’re a good man, Frankie. You’ve done good tonight. And dammit, you earned that drink.

#the good old days #fan fiction prequel #oc backstory #mafia au #switch #for the family

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