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#constantly overshadowing when the guy wants to shut some eye
cyrwrites · 1 year
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Sleepwalker
Danny cannot go to the school because he's a fugitive of the GIW. However, he's still interested in learning.
He possesses the poor schmuck that is always falling asleep in school. Ironically, this means Tim Drake gets good grades, despite not being awake at class 90% of the time.
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sweetsbfreex · 3 years
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lethologica
when you can’t think of the word for something...like this fic </3
Summary: Harry’s family navigating his impending fame, and the activity of reader and harry making their first belly cast
Warnings: fluff, slight angst?
Pairing: Husband, Dad!Harry x reader 
“Hey! We’re back!” you yelled out, Harry following closely behind you as he shut the door,  carefully slipping off your sneakers. It was pretty late at least for the two of you now. The sun was away, you and H coming back from your well deserved date night. 
At the familiar sound of the slamming door came the different steps of your kids. Shuffling down the steps from your view you could see the face of your oldest ahead of the covey, bolting towards the two of you. The various sounds of ‘mom’,’mummy’, and ‘dad’ spoken out. 
“You guys took forever” Sydnie; seventeen, was the first to say, exasperated as she latched onto you. But was quickly shuffled away by the twins. “Bloo” the seven year old was born a Penelope, but after watching her favorite show Winx Club when she was three. Demanded she be called after her favorite character Bloom, but couldn’t pronounce the name all the way through. If you had called her by official name she wouldn’t respond, going on about her day as if no one was there. And it had stuck since then, forever the stubborn one only to grow into a sweet, shy little girl.
 And Alec, fraternal twins who had just turned seven.
“Careful babies the baby, remember” Harry lightly reminded. With that reminder he had loosened his secure hold.
“Well sorry” you teased, kissing all their forehead quickly “But we bought you guys some food too” you reported, holding up the labeled bag.
They responded with excited statements, as Sydnie took the bag from your hold, running to the kitchen with her siblings. 
“My hugs!” Harry yelled out, hands cupping his mouth then putting his brawny arms out like a plane awaiting their bodies to clash into his. “ought to take away your allowance for that one” Harry teases, fingers stretching out to tickle anywhere they could. 
As a result he got a lively mix of groans, laughs, and pleas.
“Joking” Harry says abruptly, kissing each of their cheeks before conducting all of you to the kitchen, assisting the twins into their own seatings at the kitchen. The light above all of you illuminating the room.
Embarrassingly enough it had been when you were pulling the plastic containers from the brown bag that you realized you were missing a kid. 
“Where’s your brother?” you asked, opening Bloo’s Spaghetti and spreading it on the white plate.
“Talking to his girlfriend” Sydnie air quoted, rolling her father-like eyes.
“Why do you say it like that?” Harry asked, wonderingly his back turned, reaching for the Placemats, setting them in front of each child. Placing one in front of an empty stool for Chase. 
“Daddy, he’s delusional! I’ve told him a million times. She found out his last name, connected the dots, and now she’s interested. I would know it’s happened to me hundreds of times since middle school” she said indignantly.
Finishing the last plate up, from the side of your eyes you could see and sense his deflation at the statement. Always overthinking about their last names and what it would entail as they grow up with Harry Styles as their father. His top five worry ever since the first time you were pregnant. His breaking point, however, had been when Sydnie came home, furious. From a day from school finding out that some girl in her class had tried getting closer to her with ill intentions. 
He could also sense the worry that washed over you, catching your eye to let you know he was fine. 
“He’s old enough to know better. He’ll be fine Syd,” you let her know, reaching your hand to fix the hoodie that overshadowed her precious face.
“I wasn’t, it sucks and he’s not taking me seriously”
“Cause you’re full of it” shifting your eyes to the doorway, the sixteen-year-old walked in towards you. His arm over your shoulders before placing a kiss to your cheek. Then making his way to his dad, who had pulled him in setting a kiss to his temple. 
“You say that but just you wait!” she walked over to him quickly, flicking his the back of his head, shifting her way over to the fridge before he could retaliate. Pulling out a drink and some cups for everyone else, almost bustling into you, as you made your way to the microwave.
“Don’t wish that on your brother” Harry persisted.
“I’m not, but he better not come crying to me”
"Whatever” he paid her no mind, shifting the conversation to his parents. “How was your date?” he asked, setting himself at the island. 
“‘Was fine we went to the arcade, I beat mum’s butt––”
“He’s lying, I beat him at air hockey”
“Just air hockey mum?” Bloo asked, a slight lisp from her missing front teeth. Her attention strayed away while Sydnie placed her cup in front of her, filling it with juice.
“Sadly” you mimicked a pout, Harry smiling with a smug grin. 
“Then went to dinner. Guess what” he exclaimed, directing his energy towards Alec”
“Mummy looked so pretty tonight, some chum couldn’t stop eyeing her. So I had to give him a knuckle” he told the story, raising his fist and mirthfully brought it to Alec’s stomach. Eliciting giggles from his which bounced off to Bloo. The rest of you with gratified smiles at the meaningful interaction. 
“Why are you such a fibber tonight” you urged Harry, smacking his shoulder. 
“I’m not lying” he said, walking to you till he was hovering over your back, trying to annoy you with his insistent cheek kisses.
“Go away” you whined, faking your displeasure, shrugging your shoulders. The kids could note your slight smile except for him.
“Go away” he mocked.
“We all know you wouldn’t hurt a fly” Chase pointed out correctly. Thanking you as you set his plate of food in front of him. 
Harry stood across the herd,resting back against the quartz countertop, arms crossed. Until you cuddled yourself into his side. His arm reaching down so his thumb could rub against the side of your belly. Your arms encircled around his waist, head on his chest.
“Not true” he replied. 
“It’s okay, it’s why I married you” you sweetly said with a smile adoring your face. He could only look down at you with a close lipped smile reflecting yours, his dimple digging deep. Leaning down to kiss you, filling you up with his love for you. 
Both of you had pulled away abruptly from the range of disgusted protests and a slam of an utensil. All except for sweet, shy Bloo. Who had watched with a smile on her face idolizing the love of her parents, swearing it was like the Disney movies. Like her favorite Princess and the Frog.
“We’re trying to eat!” Chase had said dramatically, pasta in his mouth. Sydnie covers her eyes with both hands, while Alec stuck out his tongue finger to his mouth. 
“None of you would be here, if it wasn’t for this” you emphasized, your finger waving between you and H. 
“No duh, you both won’t stop having children” Sydnie overstated, shuddering stagy. 
It was late now, all of you stayed downstairs, more overdue than intended. The twins went down an hour early before the other two. Chase and Sydnie finished their meals for the night and instead of leaving, stayed up talking to their parents.
In your sleep shorts and a light weight tank top, your hands were in Harry’s who was massaging them softly. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked feebly, peeking up at the overly focused man. 
“We’ve had this conversation a handful of times, don’t see why we need to have it again” he replied, glancing at you quickly.
“I know, but it might make you feel a little better” you tried again not wanting to push him too far. 
“I–It’s just” he had to stop for a minute, his throat closing up too much to even speak clearly. You propped yourself up against the headboard, your lower back aching a little bit, adjusting Harry so his red tainted face was laid on your shoulder. 
You could only coo at him, kissing his forehead, while your hand ran laxly on the side of his face. Your fingers brushing against the slight scruff against his cheek. Before moving your arm so your hand could massage his scalp at the back of his neck. Letting your fingers run through his lengthy hair at the same time. Your other arm reaches over to pluck a piece of tissue from the box, wiping under his nose softly. 
“Just want them to have a normal life like you and me, it isn’t fair to them that they’ve got to deal with shit like this constantly because of me”
“Baby don’t say that, regardless of it all they’d still have to go through life meeting awful people”
“It isn’t the same y/n, with people like them they know the reason is because of their stupid last name.”
“H” you start sternly, rocking the both of you slowly “Don’t say stuff like that, you think if they had to choose you wouldn’t be their dad? They cherish you so much. I know it sucks I do, but you’re an amazing dad, there’s no one better for them. They would never hold something like that against you, they love you too much to”
“You’re a brilliant mum too. I’m sorry”
“You don’t need to apologize baby” You stopped rocking the two of you slowly, smiling down at him only to see: glossy somber eyes, a subtle simper, and a hiccuping chest.  
-
“Stomachs getting bigger” he stated, his hand rubbing against your stomach absentmindedly.
“Thank you baby, just what every girl wants to hear” 
“No! Not like that beautiful. Just meant now people can see your pregnant again”
“I’m teasing H, I promise the hormones haven’t kicked in yet.”
“Finally get to sleep with ur boobs in front of me every night” He said smugly, naturally looking at you for his favourable reaction.
“You’re such a child” you return, pinching his arm lightly “You wouldn’t want to put it in the nursery?” you ask.
“Wherever you want angel”
That radiant morning led you to now, an impromptu family trip to Target, the kids getting whatever their hearts desired–– to an extent–– while you and Harry stood here astonished by the arrays of different casting kits. 
You raise your conjoined hands to point your finger at a baby blue box.
“That one? Genie told me that’s the one she bought” you queried.
He inspected it, twisting the box practically reading every word, before turning to look at the ingredients. 
“H you probably don’t know what half of those things are”
He shrugged his shoulder in response, looking at the box one last time. “Sure it was this one?” 
“Positive”
You were both meant to go find the kids until they had bustled around the corner, Chase pushing the loaded cart while everyone walked ahead. At the view of his parents. Alec had run ahead towards the two of you a motor car in his hand. 
“Mummy! Daddy! May I get this please?” he asked, raising the toy above his head. 
“Can I get this too please?” Bloo asked quietly, a lego set sat up in her palms.
“You guys were meant to keep them away from the toys” Harry told the older two. Knowing this would just add to their continual influx of toys. “Yes you guys can, go ahead and put it in the cart”
Alec had done his little dance, skipping his way back to the cart while Bloo walked herself carefully. Placing her set down as low as she could without causing any noise or crushing anything else. 
“You both get everything you need?” you asked, following after the twins along with Harry, placing the kit into the cart. 
You looked down at everything noticing some groceries, a few skincare items, a book, something for their rooms, and other things you couldn’t find that laid underneath everything else.  
“Yep, ready to leave when you are” Sydnie had responded.
“Okay let’s head out, Styles” Harry exclaimed, as low as he could, to not disrupt anyone else, Clapping his ringed hands together once.
“Dude, you’re such a dad” Chase quipped.
“Almost like I’ve been raising kids for seventeen years huh?” He jested back, eyes opening wide in faux disbelief, traveling to bother Chase some more. 
Giggling at the two, you looked down when you felt a body pressing into your leg. Familiar arms around your thigh. A distraught Bloo, looking up at you, her chin resting against your thigh.
“What is it, baby?” you asked, softly, tuning out the rest of your family.
“There’s a lady over there. She keeps looking at us” she informed you, pointing her dainty finger discreetly as she could to the woman at the end of the aisle. 
Being only seven the twins had a mutual understanding on why their dad had to leave at times, but that decreased once more when you had fallen pregnant again. They understood all the rules. 
a) if anyone was ever following, acting suspiciously always let mum or dad know–– if dad was there, definitely dad. b) never talk back to the idiots with the bulky cameras. c) Be careful who you talk to and what you say, some people aren’t always what they may seem. 
“H” you called him over.
He walked over to the two of you, eyebrows elevated in question. His hand instinctively brushing over bloo’s hair.
“Uhm maybe we should send the kids to checkout” you tilted your head backward at the not so prudent woman with the shocked face. Her phone pointing towards the two of you. 
You undoubtedly saw the happiness of his face shift to one of vexation and frustration as he glanced quickly, shrewdly at the woman. He extended his hand out to rub your elbow soothingly, nodding wearily. 
He turned to the kids, masking his face as best as he could. “You guys go ahead and save a spot for us, me and your mum are gonna grab one last thing”
They didn’t care much, just wanting to get home as quickly as they could, Sydnie grabbing both of the twins’ hands. 
-
Harry had kindly walked up to the woman, a displayed smile on his face, asking her to delete whatever she had managed to collect. You watched the encounter from the side, rubbing your belly softly, filled with mild angst. 
She had apologized profusely (the embarrassment seeping in her voice), the kindness in Harry letting her know it was fine as long as he could watch her delete everything. 
From her camera roll, Harry could see a video still of before the kids came, when you and him were looking for a casting kit. And some other videos of the family loitering in the target section. 
He bid her a tight-lipped goodbye, after he kindly asked her again, though it was starting to run low, to go to her recently deleted–– he wasn’t the most tech savvy but he also wasn’t an idiot. Once that was ultimately done, he locked your hand into his. 
“Are you okay?” you asked, securing your other arm up to wind around his.
“Just tired of the bullshit...” he sighed. He was just happy that he was able to protect his family this time. 
You halt him swiftly; he looks back at you in confusion, until you lug him down for as much of a hug as you could. Feeling his shoulders sag in relaxation and his arms winding around your waist. 
-
You stood next to Harry, in front of one of the sinks, reading the instructions. 
“So we start with the lubricant first, use these...” holding up a roll of the plaster tape “dip them into warm water, and just putting them on” you informed Harry of your summary.
He nodded, his lip between his fingers as his eyes roamed over the paper once again. “I’ll go get you a chair, pee before we start” He yelled over his shoulder.
He walked back in, a wooden chair between his hands. Setting it to the floor gently, smiling at you to take a seat. Walking back to the sink,resting his hip against the packet of lubricant in his hand. 
You smiled back at him as you took your seat. Deeming it be fit to wear running shorts and a tank top. Harry only in a pair of his joggers. Surprisingly after four kids, this was your first time trying a belly cast and you were a bit nervous wanting it to look just as perfect as it could–– adding your husband being a precisionist into the mix there was no guessing how this would turn out. 
“Take off your top” Harry said smugly, bringing the white packet to his teeth– side eying you–– while he ripped it off. Turning to start the camera propped up on the counter. You insisted this had to be recorded as a little keepsake for the two of you. 
You could only roll your eyes, trying hard not to feed into his ego. But the heat rising from your neck reported him otherwise. Tucking your arms back in the arm holes and raising the shirt off your body. Your body is bare except for the shorts adorning your legs. 
Ogling at you like a caveman playfully at the sight of your boobs out and about, eliciting quick giggles from you. He walked up to you clasping your face between his palms, pressing your aglow cheeks together lightly–– the white, cold packet sitting against your left cheek lightly. Giving you three earnest kisses to your lips and leaning down in front of you, giving a peck to your belly button. 
He squeezed some of the lubricant onto his fingers, deciding to start under your belly. You hissed at the sudden coldness hitting your skin. 
“Okay?” he asked, eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly open.
“A little cold, but you can continue” you let him know. 
He got at it quickly, once he finished that area he stood up a bit getting the sides of your stomach coated. Once he had finished, you stood up looking in the mirror at the shine of your stomach. 
“Now for the fun part” clapping your palms together sitting back down, wistfully watching Harry wash his hands of the substance. He got the scissors cutting the strips of various sizes. Walking to you at times to make sure it fits properly. 
‘Wouldn’t it be easier if I was next to you’ you asked.
Only to be replied with ‘No reason to have you on your feet, if I can walk to you.’ He unquestionably is just a bag of sunshine and everything good in the world.
Filling the sink with warmish water and placing on gloves. Snapping it on dramatically as if he was a doctor in a drama series.  
“Dork”  
He walked over with the first strip in his hand, water dripping behind him as he stepped closer to you. You pulled out your phone quickly wanting to capture a cute picture of this. Right as he placed the first strip you snapped the image. The only thing being seen was your protruded belly and below, his hands placing the plaster tape to your stomach, and a small tuft of his hair from the top of the picture. 
He pulled away proudly, smiling down at his work, with his hands on his hips. “Look at that, looks perfect huh?”
“You’re doing good so far H” you confirmed.
-
It was only fifteen minutes later, half of your stomach–– and that wasn’t saying much.
“Baby it’s fine we’ll just sand it down” you tried to convince H for the last time, but he was stubborn as ever.
His mouth open in excessive concentration, puzzled brows pulled together as he removed the plaster for the fifth time. And from your point of view, you swore, he placed it back on the exact same spot.
“Just wait” he sighed, it wasn’t where he wanted it to be.
“Harry, we’re gonna be forever” you sighed, swaying your feet softly until one of them accidentally knocked into Harry’s leg. He looked down at you, eyes telling you to quit it. 
“See there, you big baby” he grumbled.
“You’ve set it back into the same spot!” you exclaimed.
“No I haven’t, you’re just impatient...sounded a little brit there” he hummed, turning his back to you as he grabbed another slip. 
“Shut up!” 
-
Then there was, naturally, the sudden interruption.
Bloo had stumbled into the bathroom, expressing out about something one of her brothers did when she stopped taking into account, trying to figure out what was wrong with her mum. 
She gasped, eyes wide at the greying stuff. “What’s wrong with mummy?” she asked, looking between the two of you. 
“Turning mummy into a mummy!” He screeched, holding up a plaster strip. 
She brought her hands up to her mouth eyes growing only wider, her lip already starting to tremble. 
“You and your stupid dad jokes” you pulled Bloo closer to you, turning her back to Harry flipping him off behind her head. 
“We’re just doing a cast, don’t worry baby. Remember that episode of Jessie when Ravi got that mask stuck on Luke’s face and ripped his eyebrows off” you explained, She laughed at the connection of the episode. 
“Kind of like that, but without the eyebrows and we’re just using my belly” bringing your thumb to brush her brows up and the corner of her mouth clean. God what were they doing down there.
“Ohh okay that makes more sense.” you smiled back at her. 
-
And Harry who had a bit too much fun when it came to the upper portion of the cast. Acting like Alec does when Paw patrol was on or when Sydnie when her dad allowed her his card to shop. Finding any reason to smooth down the cast with his wet hands. Or taking his time to cover your nipple, using his thumb to level it out. A haughty expression on his face growing the higher he got from your belly button. 
“You’re acting as if we don’t have sex or take showers together” you tell him, popping another goldfish into your mouth (But not the good ones, the disgusting wheat ones Harry urged you and everyone else in the house to eat instead.)
“As if you don’t act like this when I take off my shirt”
He got you there, looking up at you to see you were not going to give him the eye contact he wanted. Your lips closed tight.
He delicately planted the last strip over the top of one of your breasts. 
“Wait, it doesn’t look right” 
“Harry!”
“Just joking y/n, now we wait five minutes and we can pop this off, sand it, and decorate it however you want” he told you, smiling at the finished product, leaning down to kiss your forehead then your lips.
“Wanna do it like this” you twisted your phone around to show him the image on Pinterest. A light blue belly cast, but you wanted it a pretty purple color, that was held against a frame, with butterflies of surveying sizes going across/diagonally the cast.
“However you want lovie” he told you again, pulling your head to his stomach, leaning down to kiss your head. Your arms winding across his waist.
“Thank you” you hummed in satisfaction. 
– – – – – 
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3
thank you to the anon who requested this!
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harrywritingsbyme · 3 years
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Just The Way You Are
Based Off Of This Ask
And This One
A/N: Anon…tysm for helping me out of my brain fart and suggesting/requesting this concept. I may or may not have cried (more like bawled) while writing this one. I love it sm and I feel like it’s perfect bc it’s so  relatable for so many, so I hope you like it bby🥺!! and I just realized that this is my last full post of 2020 which is absolutely insane…enjoy🙃
What you saw in the mirror was always a struggle for you. You were heavy in the chest, your hips were wide, you had chub in places where you didn’t want chub, and you had an endless supply of thighs. For the longest time you’d been in the never ending battle with your weight and with your figure. For years, you struggled to lose weight and slim down, trying your hardest to fit into the mold and standard of beauty that was placed before you. You tried so many of the fad diets you’d found on the internet and countless workout routines that were supposedly going to give you that instant gratification and the appearance you were chasing after.
 But at the end of it all, you got nothing. In fact, you came out with less than what you came in with. The only thing that came out of those efforts was even more disappointment in yourself. And the disappointment and dissatisfaction that came from those efforts was just a portion of the mountain of disdain and sadness that was already growing inside of you towards yourself. There were so many times where you just wanted to give up on it all. You felt like you’d never be seen as beautiful by yourself or by anyone else. You felt like there was absolutely no hope and that you weren’t going to be able to be loved by anyone because of your outward appearance. You felt stuck. 
And you felt stuck for a while. You went back and forth between fighting to get out of this state and just letting it be that way for who knows how long. You went on and on in this cycle until you became tired of being that way. It became exhausting. You’d reached your lowest point, you were drained. You realized that you couldn’t stay like this forever, nor were you going to allow yourself to stay like this anymore. So you pulled yourself up and you came up with a way to get yourself up. Even though it probably wasn’t the best mindset to have, you came to the resolve that if you couldn’t change it and if you weren’t going to be accepted and loved by anyone on the basis of your looks, you might as well accept and love yourself the way you were. And believe it or not, that pessimistic yet strangely optimistic mindset actually got you to a much better place. Sure you still had your insecurities about the way you looked and sure your heart sunk a little bit when you looked in the mirror, but you were feeling better than before and that’s all you cared about. You weren’t completely over the hill in regards to the negative feelings towards yourself but you definitely made progress and that’s all that mattered to you. You were finally feeling better. 
And you only got better. After making it to the point of feeling a bit better about yourself, you met Harry. He managed to shower you with all the love and affection you never thought you’d ever receive from someone. Even though you were strong in your convictions when it came to finding any type of approval in a man, you couldn’t resist Harry. He was an absolute dream. Along with loving you and your body, he was everything you could’ve wanted in a partner. There was no other way to describe it, he was just amazing and you didn’t want to let him go, nor were you planning to. You didn’t even entertain the thought. You held onto him and you enjoyed the pure bliss that came from being together. The both of you were completely head over heels for each other. And as you and Harry’s relationship grew, you blossomed. You became confident in yourself and you were able to stop putting yourself down. You’d reached the better place you were desperately searching for all this time. You were happy. This time, it wasn’t a facade that you were putting up to disguise your true and beyond negative feelings. You were truly happy. 
But with all good things of course, they either come to an end or come at a price. And being with Harry came at a price. You and Harry tried your best to keep your relationship away from the prying eyes that were constantly surrounding him. But you could only do but so much with that. It wasn’t that long before everyone found out who you were and made things a bit harder for you. After a little over nine months into your relationship with Harry, you began noticing an all around influx in your social media’s along with the press in general. Your picture was everywhere and there were so many people who were taking and interest in you and talking about you. You knew it came with the territory of dating someone who had an enormous amount of fame the way Harry did, but it was still very foreign and it was something that you weren’t prepared for. There were so many comments that made you happy and feel better about the situation. They were so happy to see you dating Harry, especially since you were very different from the women he’s dated and has been associated with in the past. Seeing those things always melted your heart and made you feel so good inside. 
But for some reason, the bad always crept in and overshadowed the good that was being brought your way. Along with an influx in positives, there was an influx in the negatives with the main target being your appearance. You tried to block it out and not focus on the negative, but those feelings that Harry was able to break through in the beginning came creeping back. Harry tried to console you in any way possible given the fact that you had talked to him a little bit about your past struggles. He took the time to remind you that you were desirable and that you were beautiful and that he loved you. Now while you were still down about what was being said about you, Harry’s words definitely provided comfort to you and made the situation tolerable. They didn’t miraculously change your thinking on the matter, but Harry’s words were able to stop you from going into the dark place you were in before which was what you needed at the time. Since everything was coming down onto you all at once, that was exactly what you needed. And eventually, with Harry’s help, you were able to make it through that incredibly intense time. 
Not too long after the news broke about your relationship, you and Harry celebrated your one year anniversary together, the both of you were beyond ecstatic about the milestone and your lives together going forward. The both of you were so happy to be together and so happy to have made it through the hell that was the past three months following the revealing of guys’ relationship. As you two continued on together, the negativity still came your way though. You tried your best to block it all out and keep moving forward to the best of your abilities but you weren’t able to let it all roll off you back. Some of it stayed with you, prompting you to just spring into action. Because you had so many people talking about you and your appearance, picking you apart at every turn, you were became determined to make them shut up. And the only way you knew how to do that was by going to work out with Harry. You figured that if you were able to do what he was doing, you’d be able to transform and as a result get them all to shut up and leave you alone. 
So you gave Harry the lame excuse of wanting to accomplish the health goal you had set for yourself which marked the beginning of your anxiety and stress filled workout journey. Harry bought right into that positive notion too, completely ready and willing to help you accomplish your goal and completely oblivious to your true motives towards wanting to start working out with him. From that point on, the two of you got up early at the same time five days a week to work out. It was incredibly hard for you to do but you were beyond motivated to shut everyone up and go back to having that peace you once had within yourself. 
You just wanted it all to stop. 
Now while you were extremely determined to workout, Harry began noticing some things that prompted red flags to go up in his head. The main and number one thing that got his attention was your excessiveness in regards to working out. After helping you get accustomed to working out the way he did and on the schedule he did it, you ran with it and never stopped. You began working out all the time, making your schedule seven days a week and sometimes twice a day. You were pushing yourself so hard and he was worried about you. He knew that you struggled with your confidence and body image so he didn’t want to discourage you. But he didn’t want you to hurt yourself either, nor did he want you to feel like you had to work out and change yourself for him or anyone for that matter. He knew that something had to be done and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. 
He decided to step in and do it all this morning. Normally it’d be an off day but since you were on seven days a week, you were getting up early to head downstairs to the gym. As you were moving to sit up, Harry tightened his grip around you, keeping your body down on the bed and against him. 
“Harry, you have to let me go.” You whisper back to him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip. 
“No I don’t, you deserve a rest day anyways.” He mumbles back to you through a yawn, beginning to fully wake up as well. 
“I need to do this babe, I don’t be long.” You try and reason with him, still trying to release his grip from around you. 
“Okay fine, but can we please talk before you go down?” He bargains, even though he had no intention of letting you go down there. 
“Sure.” You agree, stopping your attempts to free yourself from his grip.
“Thanks baby.” He hums before unwrapping his arm from around you and sitting up in the bed to almost hover over your body. “So what’s going on?” He asks calmly yet  bluntly. 
“What do you mean?” You reply back to him with a puzzled look spread across your face to match your response. 
“You’ve been working out so much recently and it’s becoming a bit concerning sweets. I want you to reach your goal, I really do! I just want you to be healthy about it.” He softly points out to you, bringing his hand down to your cheek. 
“I’m fine Harry. I really want to reach this goal so I’m doing everything I possibly can.” You attempt to justify your actions over the past weeks, trying to steady your breathing a bit as well as you adjust to the touchy subject at hand. 
“Well I understand that and I’m so proud of you for going at this with that determination, I really am. It’s just that I don’t want you to be doing this because of all the things going around online.” He explains, his voice filled with  worry and concern. “I know it’s hard, but if you’re doing this, you should be doing this for you baby. That’s it.” He adds. 
When he says this, your heart sinks. You weren’t doing this for you. And you didn’t want him to find out your actual reasons for working out seven days a week and practically killing yourself because if he did, which he ultimately was, it was going to crush him. And the last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you. You could see all the worry and concern painted all over his face and you hated it. You hated it so much that you began to cry, not being able to hold back the tears that were already bubbling up in your eyes. 
“Oh my-baby please talk to me!” He begs, wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes. 
“It’s just so hard Harry. I’ve never had this many people coming at me about the way I looked. The only people I had to worry about before with this were myself and anyone I came in contact with. But now it’s everyone and it’s too much. I just want them all to shut up and leave me alone.” You rush out through your tears, completely breaking down below him. 
“I’m so sorry baby.”
“The only reason why I’m working out so much and trying so hard to get through it all is because I love you so so much. I can’t go back to that dark place anymore, I just wanna stay out here in the light and happiness with you. It’s just so hard when you have so many people coming at you all at once and it makes you want to just give in so that you can have peace.” You sob. When Harry hears this, his heart breaks into a million pieces. He was assuming full responsibility for this. He felt like if it wasn’t for him entering your life, you wouldn’t be completely broken before him right now.
“I’m so sorry that you’re going through all of this baby. It’s all my fault and I feel horrible for even putting you in this position.” Harry sighs, feeling tears beginning to form in his eyes as well. 
“But it’s not-“ 
“It is my fault.” He quickly interjects. “You’re going through this torture because of me and I’m so so sorry. I love you so much baby and I wish that I could just end all of this for you.” He whimpers, feeling the hot tears streaming down his face. 
“I love you too Harry. And it’s not your fault.” You reiterate, making it clear that you didn’t blame him for any of this. 
“I just need you to remember that I love you so much. I love all of you so much.” He says firmly to you, locking his eyes with yours to really reach you. He couldn’t stress how beautiful you were in his eyes enough. You were absolutely amazing to him and he just wanted to touch and admire you all the time if he could. He wanted to constantly shower you with all the love and affection you deserved. He wanted the girl he loved to know that she was absolutely stunning and that he couldn’t get enough of her. He needed you to know that. It was so important to him that you know how beautiful you were.
And he planned on making sure you knew just how beautiful you were. He quickly wipes his face before pulling your legs apart and moving in between them.
“Harry what are you doing?” You ask at his sudden movements. 
“Shh, just let me love on you baby.” He coos down to you before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is soft but filled with passion. You could feel it radiating off of Harry and down onto you. As he continues to kiss your lips, you feel his hands glide down your body, tugging up at hem of the shirt you slept in. Keeping his lips on yours, he pulls it up your body detaching his mouth when he pulls the shirt off of your body, leaving you in just your panties below him. “You are so beautiful.” He admires, taking in your pretty much naked body. Everywhere he looked he found something that he loved. There was no part of you that he hated. In fact, anything you hated, he loved.
Without wasting anymore time, Harry jumps right into his praising session so to speak. He starts at your lips, leaving you one final kiss before leaving a trail of kisses down the lower portion of your face and neck, going all the way down and stopping at your chest. He brings his hands up to your ample breasts and he cups both of them in his hands. He then lifts his head up a bit to lock eyes with you.
“I love these so much. They’re so pretty and they fit perfectly in my hands.” He whispers, bringing his mouth to one of your breasts and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. He then begins to suck on you, using his hands to squeeze wherever he couldn’t have his mouth. As he did this, your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open, allowing little moans to escape as you enjoyed the physical and emotional pleasure you were receiving from Harry. Even though it was just the beginning, you knew what he was doing because he’d done it many times before. And every time he did it, you had the same reaction. You were in a completely blissful state and you felt loved every single time. Those feelings were only intensified since you and Harry talked and you really expressed what you were going through. And now that you let all of that out, you felt lighter and you were so ready to feel good again. Harry then removes his mouth from your breast and latches onto the other, doing the exact same thing as before. Squeezing your flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucked on the other. He continues on like this a little longer before moving down your body.
“I love this tummy of yours.” He hums delightedly, leaving kisses all over the area, making sure to leave kisses along your sides as well, nipping at your chub every once in a while too. “Can’t wait to put out baby in here.” Harry hums, enjoying the idea of having a baby with you. 
“Oh my goodness Harry!” You chuckle through your labored breaths. 
“You’d look so pretty, maybe even prettier than you already are if that’s even possible.” He praises, smoothing his hand across your empty stomach. Harry then moves on to the next part of your body. 
“I love these hips.” He groans biting into and kissing the flesh of your hips. “Love grabbin’ them when I fuck you. So good.” He sighs, thinking back on the times he’s pushed into you. He then moves even lower. He begins to leave kisses along the side bands of your panties, bringing his mouth closer and closer to where your need was mounting. But instead of going there, he keeps going down and stops at your thighs. 
“I don’t know if I told you this, but I’m in love with your thighs. Like they’re absolutely delicious and amazing.” He rambles up to your before biting into one of them, squeezing the other as he did this. Harry loved how fleshy your thighs were. He couldn’t get enough of how they quaked and jiggled when he fucked into you. They were so soft and plushy, how could Harry possibly resist them?! Once he’s done loving on your thighs, Harry lifts himself up so that he’s kneeling between your legs before quickly pulling you onto your side to give your ass a couple swats, causing you to yelp out to him from how it stung. “I didn’t forget about your ass either baby, I love pulling it apart and having my face buried in it.” He says before pushing you back into your original position below him. 
“And now to the last stop.” He announces, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties before tugging them down, lifting your legs up to fully pull them off. He tosses them to the side and spreads your legs for him, revealing your soft and puffy center. “I love your pussy. It’s magical if m’being completely honest. It’s all puffy and  warm and sticky. It’s just the best. Feels amazing around my cock and it tastes amazing on my tongue.” He heavily praises before going in. He could see that you were already dripping so he knew that it wouldn’t take long at all to make you let go in his mouth.
With his mouth on you, Harry licks a wide stripe up your folds, pushing his tongue into you. When he does this, your hands go straight to his hair and your thighs begin to close a little around his head, prompting Harry to moan a little and rut his now hard cock against the bed. Even though this was all about you, Harry couldn’t stop himself from getting hard. In fact, he got hard because it was about you. Anything you did had the power to turn him on. He was constantly getting hard because of you. In fact, as he licked into you, Harry was rutting his hips down into the bed to relieve some of the pressure in his cock. All Harry wanted was to be wrapped up in you all the time. Just like now, Harry was eating you like his life depended on it as your thighs were wrapped around his head. While you were in heaven, Harry was in heaven as well. As he continued on, your were absolutely losing it too. His mouth felt absolutely amazing on you. You were already buzzing from the way he practically worshiped your body so now that he was full on eating you, you were incredibly close to letting go. 
“Feels so good!” You moan out to him, feeling a warmth spreading throughout your body. “Think m’gonna cum.” You pant, tightening your grip on him. To push you right over the edge, Harry moves his tongue up from your entrance and just sucks on your buzzing clit. This does the trick perfectly. As you let go, Harry could feel himself getting closer to his own release so he continues to push himself back and forth against the bed. 
Once you’re all done and your body goes limp, Harry leaves a kiss to your clit along with a kiss to each of your thighs, both of your hips, your stomach, and both of your breasts before stopping at your face.
“I love you.” You hum lazily, still recovering from your release. 
“I love you too baby.” Harry hums with a little chuckle, enjoying how tired out you are. “I love you just the way you are. I know it’s hard for you and I’m incredibly sorry for that. But we’ll get through it, right lovie?” 
“Mhm!” You mumble happily. 
“That’s right, and no more excessive workouts. If you wanna do some extra workouts, let me know so that we can have sex instead.” He proposes happily. 
“Can we “work out” some more then?” You breathe out.
“I’d love that. 
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babyboy-cody · 3 years
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Hey, you probably won't see this but I see that your request are still open. May I request one with the foursome? they are Neglecting the reader like making excuses to not spend time with her or not making love to her but she hears them making love to each other. They all decided to go to a fancy party they left the reader at the bar by herself when she ready to go home she sees them flirting with another girl calling her pet names and she sees Jim kissing her and touching her. The reader goes home crying her eyes out thinking they don't love her and she becomes depressed the more they keep neglecting her the more she becomes depressed and they notice and they try to make things right with her. I know this is long u don’t have to write it. This idea has been on my mind for a while.
oh this completely broke me :(( i’m gonna make this extremely angsty so FAIR WARNING. this will not have a happy ending,,,,,, i’m mean that way >:) this is gonna be vvveeeeerrrryyyyy looonnnggggggg.
word count: 6,249 fucking words
You’re not sure how long it’s been; days, weeks, maybe months. Somehow, in some way, it felt like an eternity. Without their touch, you weren’t sure how to keep yourself grounded and away from the darkness etched in your mind. Without simple praises falling from their lips like a soft melody, you weren’t sure how to build yourself up when you’re constantly falling down. Without their beautiful eyes set on you as if you were the most precious diamond in the entire world, you weren’t sure how to even feel worthy again. All you felt was pain - that deep, emotional, excruciating pain that seemed to follow you everywhere you went, whether you liked it or not. This was hell for you. You’re not sure what you did to end up in your own personal hell, but this was it. And you wanted to get out one way or another.
This loneliness is a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It kills you everyday just a little bit more, taking what was once your inner light and replacing it with a darkness that overshadows each moment. It is the fuel of your nightmares, the reason you struggle to breathe when a new shock comes. Where is the limit? When comes the point at which dogs are called off and the help begins? Because you need to know; you really need to know.
Today was like no other. It was just a repetitive cycle like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. You tried desperately to get something from them; a hug, a kiss, a pat on the back, a fucking handshake. You needed them so that it quells your mind that they don’t want you anymore, that they have no need to keep you around. It was pure torture.
Duncan was lounging in the living room, knocking back a small glass of his favorite Whiskey - one that you bought for him that traveled all the way from Sweden. His eyes were trained on the television mounted above the fireplace, his feet propped up on the glass table and crossed at the ankles. He didn’t turn his head when you entered, but you noticed his shoulders tensed as if he were holding his breath.
“Dunc?” You quietly spoke. “Um.. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me tonight? Just you and me?” You were fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit they all stopped you from continuing, but you picked it up again. You scraped at the skin in the corners of your fingernails and barely reacted when you looked down and saw blood.
“Can’t,” was his response.
“Oh..” you whispered, feeling your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach as your neck and cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “M-May I ask why?”
“I’m busy, Y/N,” he sighs and does the thing when he’s frustrated and rubs his hand over his jaw.
You nodded wordlessly, swallowing down a small whimper of emotional pain and left the living room. When you got to the hallway, you pressed your back against the wall and hid your face in your hands. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” you hissed to yourself, feeling that little tickle in your nostrils and the lump in your throat getting larger and more painful. You sniffled and stared at your feet. Your vision was getting increasingly blurry, the moments of Duncan’s rejection etched in your mind, mocking you for being so pathetic. “No, I’m not,” you whimpered. So very pathetic.
When you were able to calm down again, you gently wiped away your tears and hiccuped a few shaky breaths. Trudging up the steps slowly, you felt a bit of hope when you heard Michael in his office, wondering if he was typing away at his computer as always. You walked the agonizingly long hallway, twiddling your fingers again. You heard his quiet laughter, followed by the low hum of his voice, although you couldn't make out what he was saying or who was talking to. You knocked three times and slowly pushed the door open, gasping softly as you witnessed what was in front of you.
Jim was wearing one of his baggy college sweaters which was bunched at the bottom around his hips. He sat on Michael's lap straddling him, the same way you would always do. Their lips were locked in a deep kiss, Jim's moans so soft and barely a whisper. You felt a sick feeling in your stomach when you noticed how naked he was below. How long has it been since Jim and Michael touched you? Duncan? At this point, you couldn't even remember when the last time was.
Feeling a presence behind you, you sharply turned and spotted Duncan. You blushed as he looked down at you. He got closer now, close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his intoxicating cologne. He stepped into the doorway and into Michael's office. You looked up at him with hopeful eyes, wondering if they were going to invite you as well. You missed their pleasure filled touch. As you were about to step in as well, Duncan blocked whatever was left of the entrance with his body and the door, as he was holding onto the doorknob to avoid you coming in.
"Maybe next time," he told you in a monotone voice. And with that, he shut the door and locked it. Hearing that lock click so you wouldn't come in felt like a punch in the gut. You staggered back as if you were knocked in the face by Mike Tyson himself. Everything around you feels like it's going in slow motion. Your breathing sounds like an echo in your ears as you begin to hear a high pitched ringing. Your breathing is shallow and rapid, the early signs of an anxiety attack. You grabbed onto the wall as you begun to feel extremely dizzy.
"No, no, no, please no," you weakly cried out as you reached your room. "Not now. Not again." You felt so pathetic and weak. You slammed your door and hurried to your dresser as you began to wheeze, desperate to get in an even breath. You pulled out your inhaler, shaking it for a brief moment, popping the cap off and sticking the tube into your mouth to breath in the carbonated medicine. Almost instantly, you felt your lungs open up. You panted softly and outstretched your legs on the ground.
"What's wrong with me?" You weeped quietly, not able to hold in your cries anymore and finally letting the dam break. You're not sure what caused the change in your relationship, but you desperately wanted things to go back to normal.
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You have always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift on by. You have always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that begun a while ago remains like a veil over your skin, grey and cold. And as you watch the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there is only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy. It sits like November rain on your skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. At any other time you would have spoken to the guys, asked for the warmth you needed to ward it off, just a little is enough. No longer. Now you just let it come, drop by drop and you feel like it's an ocean falling upon you instead of rain - that the grief of years you carefully suspended has all condensed right above your head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, you just don't care. You'll still be true to yourself, still help others, but you plan to just stay here in the cold, comfortably numb.
When the tears weren't even half way done, you were empty. You couldn't have cried even if you wanted to. You hadn't experienced this feeling in a long time. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore – now it was an empty unhappiness - the kind you didn't think would easily lift. You felt like Michael, Duncan, or even Jim could surprise you with the cutest kitten on earth and you wouldn't feel a thing. You stared around yourself as if you were in a pit. Your surroundings were exactly the same, but they gave you no emotion. How could that be? You needed emotion to feel alive, to feel love.
There was a knock at your door, but you didn't respond. You continued staring out the window with a blank expression, your eyes dead and your lips in a slight frown. It was raining. You loved the rain. You remembered when you and Jim had ran outside one spring afternoon and jumped into puddles while laughter filled the air. If you focused your eyes well enough, you can probably see the raindrops sliding down the leaves.
"Y/N?" You felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. You sat in a daze, completely silent as rain continued to slap against the window. You looked at the hand and then up at the culprit. "Hey, can you hear me?"
"Hm.." you hummed low and looked around your surroundings. You looked back outside and breathed against the window, watching as frosty condensation forms on the glass. "Hi Jim."
The way you spoke worried Jim deeply. You spoke with zero emotion, as if you were a robot with no feelings at all. You had an empty look in your eyes when you looked up at him. He didn't even recognize you. Your reaction to his words were so delayed and monotonous. You were always so bright and bubbly and cheerful. But now, your responses were, "oh" "um" "hm.." "okay."
"We're going to a party tonight for Duncan's company. Michael wants us all to go, okay?" He told you, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his main focus was on you. "You down for dressing up all fancy?" He had a teasing tone in his voice, but you didn't react to it. All you said was, "Okay, Jim" in that same blank tone. He's not sure what was wrong with you, but he chose not to say much else. He nods wordlessly and leaves your room, not without sparing you one last glance, one that you didn't reciprocate. You still had that thousand yard stare out the window.
As he walks down the long steps, he hears soft murmurs of Michael and Duncan’s voice in the kitchen. When he enters, he smells the delicious steak Michael was currently cooking in a skillet pan. It sizzles and smokes, making his mouth instantly water. Duncan’s leaning against the counter adjacent to the blonde man, nursing down a glass of iced water with lemon - shockingly. They stop their conversation when Duncan notices Jim standing by the large kitchen island, his arms crossed and a wary look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” Duncan immediately crosses over and placed his cold hands over his cheeks. “What’s got you looking so beaten up?”
“Something’s wrong with Y/N,” he quietly tells him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “She’s... different. Not good different. It’s just... different.”
“Different how?” Michael turned suddenly and seemed interested in the conversation.
“She just wasn’t... there. It was like she was out of it and it was fucking scary,” Jim practically whimpered. “Are you sure we should be doing this? I-I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore.”
“Listen, we all already agreed with it, so we might as well continue with the plan, alright? The least she can do is understand where we’re coming from,” Michael reasoned, lightly calming down the young man.
All three men prepared dinner while you sat in the bath tub with boiling hot water pouring onto like no other. Compared to the cold rain outside, this type of rainfall felt so fucking excruciating and peaceful. The pain etched all over your sensitive skin was what you needed. With your knees tucked to your chest and your chin resting on them, you stared ahead in a blank state, barely acknowledging how hot the water really was. You hummed quietly when there was a knock on the door, followed by the wooden barrier opening.
“Jesus Christ,” Michael hissed as he was immediately enveloped in hot steam, barely seeing the shower or himself in the large mirror beside him. “Y/N? Are you in here?” He spots your rumbled pile of clothes on the ground, and he sees your shadow behind the shower curtain. “What the fuck?” He rips open the shower curtain and takes note of your bright red skin. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” He furiously goes to shut off the water, yanking his head back as he briefly touches the scorching knob. He reaches down to grab your shirt, wrapping it around the knob to turn the water off completely.
“I like hot showers,” you mumbled and never removed your blank stare from the tiles in front of you. “They feel... they feel... hm... good.” You nodded to yourself.
Michael now knew what Jim was talking about. This robotic state you were in was something he has never seen before. He wrapped a soft towel around your extremely warm shoulders and helped you out of the tub - the way you moved was like you were working on autopilot. There was no smooth glide in your movements like you usually had. It was rocky and uncoordinated, almost robotic. You sat on the toilet seat, not caring of your nudity before Michael. You were usually shy and hid away with a blushing smile, something Michael always loved teasing you about. You would always swat at his hand when he would - so very gently - trace your stretch marks. You didn’t even look up at him as he dried you off.
“We’re going to a party tonight. I’m sure Jimmy told you the details, right?” He looked down at you for a response, but all you did was stare ahead emotionless and in silence. He clears his throat. “I got everyone clothes to wear, so I left yours on your bed. Dinner’s ready downstairs.”
“Not hungry,” you whispered just barely, but Michael heard you perfectly clear. “Just gonna go... lie down for a bit.” It was quiet again as you fully wrapped yourself in the towel. You nodded to yourself and hummed softly, slowly standing from your seat and walking passed Michael in a trance-like state. He watched in the hallway as you made your way to your room and shut the door without sparing him another glance. He sighed softly and looked back into the bathroom, the leftover heat now gone and replaced with a soft mist.
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The drive to the event/party felt like an eternity. You sat in the backseat with Jim. All three men spoke to one another while Duncan drove. You were looking out the window, your eyes moving frantically to watch the street lamps pass by in a flash. You counted quietly to yourself with each car that passed. So far there’s been two cars every four minutes, so it seems. Jim was keeping an eye on you, watching as your lips moved like you were lip syncing to a song in your head. But it looked like your lips were barely parting to form a coherent word. It just looked like whispers, as if you were telling secrets to someone of the unknown. You looked down at your nails and scraped at the peeling skin. So pathetic.
“No,” you mumbled. “No, no, no.” Your voice was so quiet that a pin dropping can even be heard. You’re not sure when the guys ended their conversation or when the car stopped, but a hand touching your elbow pulled you from your thoughts.
“We’re here,” Duncan told you with a tight lipped smile, one that was obviously fake and strained.
You carefully exited the SUV, being careful of the bottom of your silky, champagne colored dress. You tightened the slip around your shoulders and chest when Michael wrapped an arm around your back to lead you towards the entrance. There were lots of people, too many people. The noise. The loud noise. It’s too loud. So very loud; the overexcited laughing, the clinking and scraping of metal silverware against delicate glass, the boisterous music. It’s so fucking loud. You winced when a man’s shoulder roughly knocked into yours when he was in a deep conversation with another man. This was a bad idea, so very bad. You turned to tell Michael that you were already not liking this, but he was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jim or Duncan. All three of them somehow disappeared and left you in the crowd.
You stifled a whimper and bit your bottom lip as you desperately stood on your tippy toes to try to look over the heads of so many business men, business women, or anyone in between. They bumped into you, not caring to apologize. You heard that familiar ringing in your ears again. All the noise you heard, all the laughter and music and conversation, sounded like it was in a tunnel. That echo that seemed so far away. You spotted a bar in the corner of the main hall and hurried over, silently thanking whoever was above when the seats were empty. The bartender acknowledged you and gave you a nod.
“What can I get you?” He leaned in close to hear you, a small hand towel resting on his shoulder.
“Um.. a strawberry lemonade, please?” You quietly told him, still looking back in hopes of spotting your men, hoping that they spotted you as well.
You can hear the sloshing of ice as the bartender made your drink. You were nervously picking at your fingers again, your face set in a grimace at the amount of people pouring in. You felt sick in your stomach. You felt... alone. Your drink was set on a napkin in front of you, all pretty and a mix of pink and red. You thanked him so very softly that he had to lean in to hear you. You reached into your small clutch and pulled out a $20. “Keep the rest,” you told him and took a small sip.
“I appreciate it, miss.” He gave you a smile and moved on to an eager and very drunk customer at the end of the bar.
You gnawed at your bottom lip, pulling at the thin protective skin with your teeth, barely wincing from the sting. Your eyes were frantically scanning the entire room, trying to see that familiar head of long blonde hair of Michael, of that neatly styled hair of Duncan, or that soft fringe of Jim. You sighed defeatedly and looked down at your drink, feeling so very unworthy and unwanted as laughter echoed all around you. Why did you even come? You knew it was pointless, didn’t you?
“What did I do wrong?” You whispered so weakly to yourself, resting your elbow on the bar top as your forehead rests on your hand. “Fucking stupid.”
Your drink was almost empty as you swirled your ice around with your striped paper straw. The little paper umbrella toothpick was discarded neatly on a napkin. You swiped your fingers on the condensation left from your glass. You drew a small smiley face, but soon wiped it away with the napkin. You looked up to do one last sweep with your eyes when suddenly, you saw the back of Michael’s head. You knew it was him because of the dark red velvet suit jacket he was wearing. Beside him was Duncan, and both men were grinning and talking to someone in front of them. You hoped it was Jim. And it was Jim. But they weren’t alone.
Clinging to his arm stood a pretty woman, so dainty and bright, yet there was a certain fire to her that you didn’t have. You watched as she probably said something snarky to Michael that had him throwing his head back in a laugh. Duncan was grinning like a cat that got the cream. Jim was staring her down like a hungered man. Then, it happened. It was so fast, but it felt like slow motion as it repeats over and over and over and over again in your head. She was clutching onto his tie, pulling him down desperately as they kissed so deeply, with such passion you haven’t had in so long. What hurt the most was that Duncan and Michael watched. They had grins on their faces, the same ones they had when Jim would do the same to you. You swallowed down a gasp as your eyes watered. You read Michael’s lips as he spoke to her. All you can make out was, “Dove.” That was your name. You can feel an ache spread from your chest to your stomach and back up to your chest. You covered your mouth to stifle an excruciating cry.
The pain increased with every step you took towards the exit. You held the bottom of your dress to not trip over, your tears warm and quick down your cheeks, for sure leaving mascara tracks. You hurried down the steps and turned the corner, passing through the beautiful garden you failed to notice earlier. When you were out of sight from other people, you dropped to your knees and pressed your hands into the grass. Your shoulders shook as you desperately tried to breathe, but every time you breathed it was a painful gasp and hiccup.
“Why? Why? Why? Why me? Why? What did I do? What did I do wrong, God? Please, tell me, why?” You cried and brought your hands together in a praying motion, crying up at the sky above. “Please, tell me! And I’ll change! Just tell me, why?”
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Self control is a finite resource because the part of the brain exerting control gets tired - it requires energy and that gets depleted. So, the repressing of anger needs careful thought. If it is boiling up, how will it be cooled? If it explodes, whom bares the brunt? Because they psyche under seige will naturally seek a more vulnerable (hence "safe") person to explode at. Stress bubbles down to less dominant people in a society where the more powerful have reduced ability to handle their anger and stress. Thus, how you deal with your anger is vital. It is as steam in a pressure cooker, you have to find a way to let it out in a safe manner. That can be through physical activity or by finding inner peace, or often a combination of the two. Sport releases the need for self control, finding inner peace expands your endurance and ability for self control. As such, they are a winning combination.
But now.. you’re not sure you have that same self control you had a while back. You felt nothing, hence you did nothing. You just laid there hoping that it’ll pass. Feeling empty and feeling tired have such a strong connection to one another that you need to fully rest before you can figure out what is what. But even rest is tiring. There is a silence to your soul; you’re fall leaves under frost. You feel the chill in your blood, coldness bringing the synapses of your brain to a stand still. Part of it is a pain, yet one you can endure, one you can sleep through night after night without the anaesthesia of false hope. This is your winter; you wait for spring and the chattering of the birds. But it never comes.
It’s been a month. One whole month since you’ve witnessed the cause of your shattered heart. It wasn’t broken and able to piece back together. It was completely shattered into dust. You relived in constantly in your conscious and unconscious state. It replayed like a broken record over and over and over again. The moment was in your dreams, nightmares, and thoughts. When you had gotten home that night, you stood in complete silence before finally uttering that long, heart-wrenching scream that strained your vocal cords. You had fallen to the ground, unable to keep yourself standing any longer and screamed and screamed and screamed until you couldn’t scream anymore. You were already in bed by the time the guys had gotten home. Only Jim called your phone, but you let it ring. They didn’t check up on you. They just left you there, broken.
You lie awake in bed, watching as the rain fell and pelted against the window in a gently melody. It brought your spirits just slightly, but it soon washed away in an instant. You contemplated on taking your medication again, the ones that made you feel good, but you’d rather punish yourself with this overpowering feeling of emptiness. You didn’t deserve to feel good. You deserved the pain thrown at you emotionally.
You’re not sure what time it was, but there was still light out. It couldn’t be no more than two in the afternoon. You heard clatter coming from downstairs, followed by a mix of deep voices. You continued staring out the window, wishing you were enveloped in nothing but darkness. There was a knock at your door, following the small creak of it opening. Well, this was a first.
“Dove?” Michael quietly called out. “Are you awake?”
He watched as your breathing was steady, your back facing him as you were huddled underneath the covers. You didn’t respond to him, but you knew that he knew you were awake. He sighed quietly and stepped around your bed to get closer to you, sitting on the edge of the bed to lower the covers in order to see you.
You didn’t look at him, instead keeping your eyes on the window with a blank expression. He noticed the really dark circles under your eyes and your sickly complexion. He noticed how much weight you’ve lost, and he wondered when was the last time you ate. He hadn’t seen you in the kitchen in so long because it was Jim who tried to coax you to join them for breakfast and dinner.
“Come downstairs and eat,” he told you, tugging on your arm gently, but you slowly pulled it away and tucked it under the covers again. He frowned.
“Not hungry,” you hoarsely whispered. “Just go away, Michael.” You shut your eyes as a small tear rolled down your temple. “Please... just leave.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but his attention turned to the doorway where Jim and Duncan stood. They both shook their heads as the youngest of the two frantically waved his hand in a “come here” motion. Michael glanced at you one last time and stood up with a small sigh. When he left the room and shut the door, they all stood in a small circle.
“She’s getting worse,” Duncan mumbled and rubbed his jaw frustratedly.
“I knew this was a bad fucking idea, Michael,” Jim hissed. “I never wanted to do this. You wanted to do this. And we were so stupid to go along with it because you made us believe that we needed something new in our lives.”
“It was a suggestion, Jim,” Michael told him, holding a hand out to calm the frantic man. “I just thought -”
“Yeah,” Jim cut him off. “You thought it would make things better. Now look at her. She’s fucking falling apart because of us.” He whimpered and pressed his hands against his eyes to roughly rub his tears away.
He walked away in a hurry, mentally beating himself up for falling victim to Michael’s words. What was he thinking? Needing something new? He didn’t need new, he needed you. When he kissed and flirted and had his hands on that girl, all he was thinking about was you. He wasn’t thinking how bad the outcome could’ve been.
Duncan stared at Michael silently with his arms crossed. “We need to make this right,” he told the blonde man. “This was a reckless and unthinkable thing we could’ve done, and now we’re paying the price.”
“I know,” Michael mumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted our relationship to take a next level of something exciting.”
“Exciting?” Duncan scoffed. “We pushed her away. We neglected her constantly. We haven’t touched her, let alone kissed her in, what, almost two months? It’s just... we should’ve brought her into the loop as well.”
“I know,” Michael stressed. “Look, we’ll fix this. We always do.”
Except, the damage was already done. There was nothing too fix. You were a hallow shell of a human, of what was left of you. You were nothing but a faint, forgotten memory.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: ✧・゚: *✧・゚:
You rest eyes upon the leaves, fluttering in the garden. In the light of day you could never tell of the storm they had suffered the night before, of the winds that howled and tore their brethren from branches to ground. They reflected the soft sun rays, gave off their colors with that quiet joy nature sings of, that silent music you love to hear. Yet you also saw the plucked leaves, swirling in the gusting wind, the subtle “tells” of the hardship only recently passed. In that moment you wondered what people would make of you. Would they see “tells” of your storm? The way your eyes were slow and mouth heavy at the corners? Would they see the tears un-cried? And if they did, if they saw that emotional debris, knowing how the grief hurricane returns over and over, would they shine for you like the sun on the trees or treat you like you were on the other side of glass, ensuring that your storm never chilled their own skin, much less clipped at their souls. You wondered.
Tightening your chunky cardigan over your body as a chill passed, you smiled and closed your eyes as you smelled the freshly cut grass and rainwater. Everything was peaceful, as it should be. Your bare feet was buried in the soft tuts of bright green grass, your toes wiggling as you giggled at the tickling sensation. Afternoon crickets chirped and birds sung sweet songs in the trees. You felt at peace with yourself. Michael, Duncan, and Jim were away. You’re not sure where, but they had left a note telling you the time they should be back. The trunk and backseat of your car were filled with boxes and trash bags of your things. It was time to let go and be free, as much as it pained you to do so. As much as you tried to forget about that incident, it was tattooed in the back of your mind permanently.
You entered the house and shut the back door, making sure it was locked and the window shades were down. You walked around slowly, savoring the last of moments inside. Every room you were in, you remembered something good or bad that happened. Every moment of passionate love making, every laugh, every argument, every cry, every kiss. You would be forever grateful in in experiencing these things because without it, you weren’t sure how strong you’d be compared to now.
You heard the small beep of the alarm unlocking and the front door opening. You swallowed down a small, nervous breath and nodded to yourself. Everything’s going to be okay, you thought. You entered the large dining room where the three stood. Jim looked defeated, Duncan looked confused, and Michael... he looked broken.
“We saw your car...” Duncan began, but Jim cut him off instantly.
“Where are you going?” He mumbled softly and took a tiny step forward, shuffling his feet side to side, not knowing what to do in this moment.
“Um... I’m leaving,” you quietly told them. “I did a lot of thinking these passed two months and I’ve come to a realization that I’m not cut out for this.” Michael opened his mouth to speak up, but you held a hand out to silence him. “Listen to me, please. I loved you, all of you. I loved and I gave and I was taken for granted. And the only person to build myself back up again was... me.”
“Why are you talking like this so suddenly?” Michael spoke up, brows furrowing as he struggled to understand your words.
“I saw what happened, at the party. And I know that, maybe, I wasn’t someone you wanted and I know how difficult I can be and I know I have some unresolved issues I need to work on to become better,” your voice cracked and you sniffled as your looked down at your hands with blurry eyes. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”
“No,” Duncan whispered brokenly. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He angrily shook his head, eyes blazing with a building rage. “You-You can’t leave.”
“Duncan,” you whispered softly and stepped up to him, resting your hands on his scruffy cheeks as a lonesome tear rolls down, pooling over your thumbs. “I have to go. You have to let me go.”
He shook his head as the dam finally breaks. “No...” His voice was completely broken, eyes filled with so much pain and anger. “Please...”
You stepped away and sniffled. You looked over at Jim and gave him a sad smile. His bottom lip was trembling so badly that he had to bite down on it to make it stop. He was rubbing the back of his neck continuously, a tell tale sign of frustration and panic.
“Jimmy,” you quietly said. “You’re gonna have to let me go as well, okay? Can you do that for me?”
He shook his head and exhaled a shuddering breath. “I-I can’t... I...” He couldn’t even speak. He just stared at you in desperation, wishing and hoping that you’d change your mind and stay with them like you all promised.
And finally, you looked at Michael - the first man you ever loved and who introduced you to Duncan and Jim. You would forever be thankful that you had the opportunity to fall in love with these men, but sadly, these opportunities must come to an end.
“What can I do to make things right, dove?” He begged, something he’s never done before and it’s such a shock to you. “Tell me what to do.”
“There’s nothing that can be done to make things right, Michael,” you told him gently as you shook your head. “I think this was the final straw that I really needed to get out, and I really hope that you all have a good life ahead of you. I love you and I always will love you deep down in my heart, and I’ll never forget you three.” You gave them a sad smile. “I guess this is goodbye,” your voice cracked just a little bit.
You looked at them one last time before moving through the hallway and towards the front door. You swung the strap of your bag around your shoulder and dug inside for your keys. You pulled out the house key from the ring and placed it on the small table that had a stack of mail, a little bowl with Jim and Duncan’s keys, a long vase with lilies - your favorite flower, and a picture. It was of you, Duncan, Jim, and Michael the minute you all had moved in. There were bright smiles on your faces, even Michael. Things were so much better back then; when things were simpler. You heard faint crying coming from the dining room, and you wondered who it was, if you should go back to console them. But you knew if you did, you would stay.
As you left the house, you studied it with a small smile. You’ll never forget the endless memories inside and out. This wasn’t just a house, it was a home. “Goodbye, home,” you whispered and placed your hand on the banister.
After the long days of being so alone, the pain ebbed. You thought you would feel the knives in your back forever, the long blades slicing into such sensitive flesh. There were days your brain felt electrocuted, so violently defocused and the pain, the emotional pain, was all so encompassing you simply existed as a matter of will power. They say people come out of these things stronger, and you guess that's true, but you come out wiser too. You still have your loving heart, you’re proud to say. You still have your idealism and courage. You still take forward leaps whether you can see the ground or not. But this heart, it's not for everyone, it's not for the ones who threw the knives.
But this? This isn’t the end. It’s the start of a new chapter. You’re not sure where you’ll end up, but you’re sure you’ll pass the next level. Alone or not.
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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years
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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 13 - Sketch/Ache
Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, so close yet so far, 3k
@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends
WARNINGS: death mention
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
October already? Looking at the work schedule posted on the wall, Willie ran a hand through his hair. The time really was just passing him by, huh? Another day over, he grabbed his skateboard and strapped on his helmet.
“Hey, Willie?” His manager, Kyle, called after him before he got through the back door.
“Yeah, man?” Willie turned to answer him.
“This Saturday we need some extra hands while we’ve got a group performing. Could you be there?”
“Totally, man,” he said, smiling with assurance before heading out into the street. Los Angeles was fresher than Vegas, at least for him. He loved the breeze from the ocean that swept in every evening and being near the water in general. There was so much more to do, as well, and he didn’t think he’d ever exhaust that list. Just the number of places to skate was constantly growing, without mentioning the rest. Of course, he had been hoping to do some of them with Alex by now, but that was easier said than done. Sunset Curve didn’t seem to be doing too many shows at the moment, and that was all he really had to track him with.
Stopping at an antiquated apartment building, he headed down a stairway into the basement and burst through the door.
“Guess who’s home!” he cried. Sheldon came pattering over with his ever-cheerful prrrp and rubbed against his leg. Kneeling to pet him, Willie chuckled. “Aww, I’m happy to see you, too.”
He immediately went over to the cat’s bowl and poured some food in, listening to Sheldon purr loudly as he ate his dinner. Willie grabbed some food for himself to snack on as he sat at his desk and looked at the unfinished drawing that had been left there early that morning. He’d begun covering his walls in sketches again, and this time he didn’t have to be afraid of everything being torn away. In fact, Willie couldn’t even believe he had convinced himself that his life was fine when staying with Caleb.
Things had changed entirely. Since his brief adventure out in the desert, Willie was fully independent. He owed most of it to Bessie, still, and he thought of that woman every day. She hadn’t left him any way to contact her, otherwise he’d want to send her a thank you card at least once a week. It even overshadowed the fact that he’d actually ridden in a plane with Harrison Ford.
Willie remembered how incredibly short the flight had been in comparison to the rest of his journey. Bessie had donated an old cat carrier that they strapped into the cabin for Sheldon while Willie joined Harrison in the cockpit. It was nothing like watching the man fly the Millenium Falcon, except that it felt like they had gone into lightspeed and landed not too long after taking off. 
“You should be proud,” Harrison had told him. “You didn’t get sick.”
It had taken Willie until after they landed at the Santa Monica Airport to realize that he’d hardly spoken a word because he kept looking at him in pure shock at the reality of the man. His embarrassment must have appeared obvious, because Harrison Ford leaned down to look him in the eye.
“I’ve seen it a million times, don’t worry about it.” There was something sage about the resting expression on his face.
Chuckling in a flustered manner, Willie tried to think of the best way to thank him.
“Well, that was...that was really amazing, Mr., um...Mr. Ford. Thank you.”
The old actor smirked a little. Willie had seen a handful of actors come through the diner in Vegas before (at least, he’d been told they were famous, since he didn’t recognize most of them), and none of them were nearly as friendly.
“Willie, right?” Harrison had asked. It was enough to get him starstruck all over again, but he managed to nod. “Well, since I’ll never see you again, I’ll give you some advice.”
Willie listened intently.
“If you believe something is worth it, don’t quit. From what I already know about you, it doesn’t look like you do, so I have an extra piece of advice for you: planning and preparation is everything.”
Thinking back to when Bessie had scolded him about not riding the bus, Willie cowered inwardly. He couldn’t imagine how stupid he had sounded then.
“Do you know where you’re headed, kid? I can call a cab to take you anywhere you need.”
“How come you’re so nice?” Willie blurted. He hadn’t meant to.
Harrison Ford bowed his head, still smirking, and looked back up.
“I was twice your age before I really got anywhere. Now I’m just an old man who still does the job. Doesn’t mean I’m always nice, but sometimes….” He shrugged and gave him a wink.
Nodding, Willie had thanked him again. Harrison Ford held out a hand, which he shook with great enthusiasm before accepting the offer for the cab and saying goodbye. When he’d asked to go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the cab driver had looked at him in confusion.
“You do?” the guy asked. Seeing the definitive nod from Willie in the back seat, he just looked resigned. “Okay.”
Shortly after being dropped off, Willie had realized why the cab driver had responded that way. Standing before Grauman’s Chinese Theater, the street was just another place covered in gum, surrounded by people dressed as other celebrities. He saw other people taking pictures with them, and saw that the ones all dressed up were being paid. Some young woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe was doing her best to catch his interest with a flirty pose and a wink. Awkwardly smiling, Willie turned away and went to explore that area of the city. It was a good thing he hadn’t owned a camera then.
Now, he had decided to get a cheap one, just to capture anything he found interesting when he saw it. He’d accumulated a handful of things in the past few months: the basement apartment, a mattress, his writing desk and chair, and his job at the record-store-slash-cafe, among other things. The fridge had already been in the room, which was a nice perk. It was cool enough that the owner of the building had been willing to rent to him even though he was still underage. Working at the record store was much better than both the diner and the hotel, although his hopes of having Alex or his friends chance to stop in were dwindling some.
For now, it was much like before he’d left Vegas, only without Caleb’s dark shadow constantly looming over him and a few more memories restored. And, of course, he could keep Sheldon with him. It was strange how meeting Alex and being at the Pearl already felt like a dream. Willie often had the thought that maybe he should move on and start planning out whatever he wanted now. Maybe Alex had just been the catalyst to get him out of a bad position and help him move forward.
Staring down presently at the drawing on his desk, Willie sighed. Alex’s smiling face (what he could remember of it) beamed up from the page. Sure, he could tell himself to be over it, but was he really? Sheldon began running about the apartment like he was being chased by an invisible foe, creating a distraction from Willie’s thoughts. After a while, he went to bed and lay awake replaying in his mind the last few moments he’d actually seen Alex. It was still so vivid. If it was no longer important, why could he recall it so well?
He watched as Alex stood up and held out a hand toward him. Taking it, he was impressed by the strength with which he was lifted off the surface of the observation deck. His mind returned to earlier that day when the situation had been reversed, and he wondered if Alex had felt the same exhilaration from that moment of closeness. He already missed the feeling of Alex’s fingers through his hair. Gaining his balance, he let go of Alex’s hand and a nervous giggle escaped as a bout of giddiness came over him. 
“You alright there?” Alex teased, grinning.
Shaking his head, almost to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch, Willie grinned back.
“I’m having a good time,” he told him.
The warm smile that spread across Alex’s face and the way his eyes lit up deserved to be captured forever. Willie was sure he could fill a thousand pages of sketches, even if they were all of that one expression.
“Me, too,” Alex said, eyes wandering all over Willie’s face.
Before Willie could blush too hard, he picked up his skateboard.
“I know some shortcuts that’ll get us back to the hotel pretty quickly,” he started, pressing the button for the elevator. He didn’t want to go back so fast, but he had to remember his early work day in the morning. Caleb always had some sort of laundry list on the days he didn’t immediately go in to work at the diner.
“You’ve been a good tour guide so far,” Alex said as they stepped into the elevator.
Casting a wistful look back at the splendid view of Las Vegas, Willie watched the doors shut. Once they got out to the street again, Willie looked up at the hat sitting on Alex’s head. Impulsively, he lifted it up and put it on backwards, grinning at Alex.
“How does it look?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Alex’s jaw hung open for a moment, his nervous smile betraying him.
“It looks good,” he said in a breathless manner. It was such a cute expression, Willie wished he could make it happen again.
Alex was wishing right then that he could keep a picture of Willie with the hat on. He usually didn’t let people just steal it off his head, but when the result was that handsome he wasn’t going to complain. He’d wait until they had reached the hotel to ask for it back.
“So,” Willie started saying. “Back to L.A. in the morning, huh?”
Ah yes, the feeling of being crushed by reality. Alex bowed his head. He wasn’t excited to address it.
“Uh, yeah,” he sighed. “You know, when I got here I was hoping to just get the gig over with and leave, but that...I kind of forgot about that.”
He glanced up at Willie, not sure how much he should go into detail about why he changed his tune.
“But then you met Sheldon and he was the coolest cat ever, right?” Willie teased.
A chuckle of genuine entertainment escaped his throat. Did Willie know how charming he was? Alex wished he knew how to tell him.
“Yep, it was definitely the cat,” he responded. “Although the owner isn’t too bad, either.”
He got a casual shrug in return.
“Well, I know I’m busy, but I could call you,” Willie offered.
Fear pinched everything in Alex’s chest. It almost made him stop in his tracks.
“God, I - ” he started awkwardly, forcing his body to keep moving. “I can’t. I seriously wish I could, but that’s just...not possible.”
He already hated the words the moment they’d been spoken. His parents suspected enough things about him and his activity with the guys in his band, but they would make his reality pure hell if they ever picked up the phone from a guy they’d never met who had shown as much interest in him as Willie. While he felt fine being open just about anywhere else, at home was where he remained most guarded.
Willie was looking at him with slight disappointment.
“That’s too bad, I guess,” he said. “At least I know I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”
It was the only consolation they could afford. Alex wanted to make plans right then and there.
“And what would we do if I did find you?” he asked, knowing he was prodding for signs that he wasn’t the only one with hopes. He tried to relax his stride to appear more casual.
“Lots of possibilities,” Willie told him. “I haven’t shown you my favorite museum, or seen you skate - ”
“Just putting it out there,” Alex interrupted, raising a hand. “I cannot skate.”
Willie blew a raspberry. “Maybe not now, man, but you will by the time I’m finished with you.”
The way he wiggled his eyebrows made Alex think of something much different than riding a skateboard. He cleared his throat nervously as he looked up at the street they were on. The hotel was already a block away.
“Whoa, how’d we get here so fast?” he wondered.
“I know my shortcuts,” Willie said proudly.
Unfortunately, he did. Alex wanted more time to figure out a way to see Willie in the future. There had to be a possibility in the future. His long legs could only go so slowly, however, and soon they were stopped outside the hotel doors.
“Are you gonna make it home okay?” Alex asked. “Wherever that is?”
“I’ll be fine,” Willie shrugged plainly. “It’s not too far.”
For a minute, they stood in awkward silence. Alex could feel his entire body burning to make some gesture that left Willie with the right impression. What would be too forward? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? He’d already checked off holding him and running his hand through Willie’s hair, so he wasn’t going to simply send him off with a hand wave or something.
“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow before you guys go?” Willie said, smirking optimistically.
“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said, trying to return a smile with the same optimism.
“Oh,” Willie sputtered. He took off the hat and tried to place it back onto Alex’s head properly. It didn’t work, but Alex simply adjusted it into its comfortable backward position. His fingers twitched under the temptation to touch Willie’s hair again.
“One of these days…” he muttered.
“Hm?” Willie perked up curiously.
Oh, no, he’d said it out loud. Damn. There was no way he couldn’t follow up.
“Uh...one of these days I’ll be around here again,” he said, nodding to reassure himself. “I’ll come looking for you.”
Willie could only look up at him and smile.
“I…” Alex began to scratch the back of his neck, but forced his hand down into his pocket. It had to be said. “I definitely like you.”
He watched Willie’s face morph from surprise into a smile, and finally his trademark eyebrow raise.
“So do I,” Willie said, biting his lip.
They both giggled, now that their feelings were out there in the open. It only made Alex ache more to stay. Willie placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You take care, Alex,” he told him.
He nodded. “And you be safe, Willie.”
He got one more glance into those gorgeous brown eyes, longing to toss in a line and anchor himself in them. The dim lights from the street played off of the natural glimmer that was always present.
Feeling Willie’s hand slide off his shoulder and down his arm, Alex could’ve sworn there was a tiny squeeze he received at the end of his fingers before Willie let go and got onto his skateboard. He watched him leave until eventually he was staring out into the darkness all alone. Reluctantly, he headed back up to the hotel room.
Alex was lying awake in his bed, silent tears falling down his cheeks at the bitter memory. His last words to Willie had been powerless to protect him. What sort of sick and twisted universe would let that happen? He knew he had no control over those circumstances, but he still felt that if anyone died in a fire, it should be him. Willie had been too wonderful to deserve it.
Turning to his side, he still hated the sobs that wracked through his whole body months later. Most people would deem it pathetic to hurt this much over someone he’d barely known. It was strange, but it felt almost undeserved, like mourning as he did wasn’t allowed. What about the people that Willie had spent time with every day? How could Alex begin to fathom their pain? To them, his sorrow would appear as empty as if he were crying over Freddie Mercury. This hurt far more than when he’d cried over Freddie.
It didn’t help that he couldn’t tell his family. The guys had been okay at letting Alex have his space, but his parents kept making comments about his sudden upset over everything. They would only see death as something bittersweet, a “better place” to go for people who were doing the right things. Of course he was terrified of death - he wasn’t exactly considered worthy of anything good, by their standards. That only made the loss of Willie that much worse. He hadn’t bothered to explain himself to Abbey. He couldn’t put that emotional burden on her.
Before he could let his mind wander further into the dark, Alex tried to find something else for his brain to put on cycle. Oddly enough, it went back to singing for Julie’s mom at the hospital. The words immediately began to repeat in his mind: we all live in a yellow submarine…. It wasn’t a song that he truly loved, but it was catchy. It was the one Willie had suggested they do. Alex remembered how he’d imagined everyone in that room in their own world together, safe and free from worldly cares. Somewhere full of color and warmth and people could be happy as they were.
That’s all he truly wanted. Maybe he would have that with the band, and maybe he’d get away from his parents and finally be free from all of their pressure, and maybe one day he’d recover and find a guy like Willie again. He wasn’t sure what he really believed just yet, but there had to be something good worth holding onto. If it was just some stupid world where he and his friends lived in a yellow submarine, so be it.
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Unexpected bonding
(The short fanfic based on the first proper meeting between Musa and Riven on “Fate: The Winx Saga”. English is not my first language, so apologies for the possible grammar- and spelling-mistakes.)
Musa walked across the yard, among training and chatting students, trying to calm her twirling thoughts by firmly holding the combat stick. Usually, she enjoyed the lessons and this place felt like a second home to her. But in all honesty, these last few days could've gone a lot better. For some reason, this complicated mix of excitement, worry and determination around her was harder to take than usual. Everyone was restlessly and impatiently waiting for something to happen, even though they didn't fully know what it was. But it was there, hiding in the plain sight. This was the time her help would be needed the most, but she had never felt herself so...damn useless. How she wished she could've already been in her room, put her headphones on, focused on the music and let the rest of the world keep turning by itself for a while.
The sudden flash of obvious arrogance and more hidden anger was an oddly welcoming change in the common atmosphere and attracted her attention. It didn't take long for her to figure out its source: one of specialists was training with a battle rope a few long steps away from her, clearly apart from the others. His technique appeared to be nearly flawless, but she didn't need her powers to notice that behind it there was a deep need to let his frustrations out.
Musa didn't actually know much about Riven. Of course, everybody had heard of him - other than being close with Sky, he had gotten quite a bad reputation in Alfea, and his questionable habits with drugs didn't exactly help on the matter. These "stormy and unbalanced"-kind of energy auras were often too much for an empath like her, and that fact alone put him among the people she had usually been avoiding. 
Still walking forward, she answered his sharp glance nonchalantly – a neutral, silent hello, that didn't expect any kind of discussion. However, hearing quiet, out of the blue chuckle made her stop reflexively, full of doubt. They hadn't changed more than a few words with each other before and she had had no reason to believe it would change now. He stopped his training too and looked at her, estimating.
"You like holding that big stick?"
His slightly amused, undermining and suggesting tone after a long and exhausting day made Musa react quickly; with secure grasp, she rotated the stick swiftly and bent into an attack-position, holding the stick very close to his face – staying still, half waiting for some kind of anger or offended surrendering-movement. However, her intuition was wrong again: instead, the youngster touched the head of the stick lightly and lowered It, raising his eyebrows and smirking almost flirtatiously. "I'll take that as a yes."
Young fairy repressed her will to roll her eyes: sadly, Riven was also well-known for his narrow-minded, obnoxious and somewhat prejudiced comments and opinions. This year Terra and Dane  had seemed to have gotten the worst blows of them. Even though Terra hadn't admitted it to anyone, Musa had lived with her long enough to know that some of the remarks had really gotten under her skin. And that was saying a lot, when it came to a generally happy person like her. Some people just couldn't take a hint of crossing the line, and the boy standing in front of her was definitely one of them.
To show him that she really wasn't in a mood for such behavior today, she partly leaned on her stick and titled her head. "I think I just threw up."
In spite of the loathing tone in her answer, Riven couldn't help feeling a tad impressed: this tiny fairy seemed to have more fierceness and spunk in her than the most of the well-trained Specialists. After the lackey-like, avoiding or somewhat fearful reactions he had faced lately, this strictness from someone else than his best friend or mentor – especially a girl - certainly was something new. There was no denying that Beatrix had offered him quite a portion of that as well in her own, seductive and slightly twisted way, but this lass had some exceptional gentleness, vision and different kind of honesty in her that Beatrix just... had not. 
Still a hint of smile on his face, he came a little closer to her, unwilling to change the subject. "I saw you on the support rounds with Miss Dowling  at training." His tone was trying to pursue neutrality, but even the fool could've seen that he wanted to prove his point.
Musa tried to separate her own feelings from all the other auras around her to process his new, startling attentiveness. Was she honored or bothered – and more importantly, which one was the right way to react? At the moment, even the Expert of Emotions herself couldn't tell. What was the catch here? It would've made more sense for him to keep an eye on assertive and strong people like Stella or Aisha. She stayed quiet, letting a little patient smile crack her poker face, wondering where he was going with this.
Being wise enough not to test her patience any longer, Riven decided to answer the unspoken question himself. Without fully meeting her eye, he let his gaze linger at her feet. "I wouldn't have expected a mind fairy to have such good moves."
Without an invitation or permission, Mrs. Dowling's task-orientated but friendly voice echoed in her ears again.
 "Not all fairy magic is suited to combat roles. Support is equally, if not more, important. Your magic can help us assess the fragile states of minds and uncover hidden enemies."
It was a common knowledge that the Headmistress was encouraging to the core, cared for her students, and meant well. Still, Musa's speculative mind constantly found hidden subtexts in her words, which started with "too theoretic" and ended up at something like: "Insufficient" or "powerless when things actually go wrong."
"I used to be a dancer." The words escaped her lips, before she managed to stop them. Whether it was because of Mrs. Dowling, her own defense mechanisms against Riven's prejudices, his infuriating abilities to give compliments and offend at the same time, or just pure tiredness, she was surprised by her own transparency. She had told about this only to her very few close people in her life. Not even her roommates knew. And now she had blabbered it in front of a basically complete stranger! But on the other hand, it was really refreshing to talk to someone, who didn't pry or force their curiosity on her out of duty or responsibility. Unable to help herself, she admitted: "I kinda miss being physical."
When she had been younger, her mother had taught her to dance and they had made it something they shared. It had been wonderful to dive deep into music and focus on the movements and the different worlds, in which melodies had transferred her into. But when her mother had passed away, she hadn't been able to bring herself in that flow anymore. No matter how persistently she had tried, it hadn't felt the same. Now it only reminded her of everything she had lost.
Abruptly, she returned back to reality and noticed that Riven's gaze had found its way in her eyes again and his posture had returned to its natural defensiveness.
"Yeah, well, too bad", he spat out in a slightly husky voice. "You're a fairy. They don't care what you wanna be in this place, only what they want you to be."
Quite a nice reward for being honest! It would've been so easy and rightful for Musa to get mad at him. But her mother had always used to say that no one's story and melody should be shut out, and she had chosen to live through that code. Even with the douchebag like Riven.
Now that she looked closer, with a little help of her own, she was able to see the dark circles under his eyes – eyes that were actually really observant and sincere, like they were trying to convey her an important message. Under the arrogance and "know it all"-attitude, there was buried bitterness and sadness. This wasn't just a cocky boy fighting for his territory. It was a sincere warning, born by his own, long-term experiences.
When one really stopped to think about it, this guy had gone through quite a rough year. The first more hidden emotion Musa sensed – perhaps because it had been also her friend for the last couple of days – was the fear of not being enough. Mr. Silva had always been righteous and fair leader and mentor who wanted to treat everyone equally, but still there was a little...guess it could be called conflict of interest. Even though Sky’s bloodline had guaranteed him the place in this school, he had been motivated and trained himself to the top and hadn't expected any special treatment. But after his father, Andreas of Eraklyon, had passed away in a battle, Silva, as Andreas' best friend, had taken him under his wing and now saw him basically as his own son. Due to this fact and his carefree and rebellious stoner-history, Riven must have felt overshadowed and the need to prove everyone that he belonged here.
Obviously, there was also worry and complicated feelings about Beatrix on his mind. Despite her... interesting personality – kindly expressed – and her shady and threatening motives that were becoming clearer by the moment, they had been close. She had been one of the few people who didn't judge him in one way or another. And now she was imprisoned and not many people knew what the faculty was planning to do to her. He probably also wondered how big role he had played in causing the danger – partly by being nasty to Dane – that was now hanging above everyone. He clearly tried to act like it didn't have an effect on him, but Musa and Aisha had witnessed his lousily finished training this morning. All of this would've a lot to bear to anyone, and Musa couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.
"You really hate being here, don't you?"
She hadn't even acknowledged she had used her powers on full force until she saw the look on Riven's face: it was disoriented, almost blank, and there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. Musa was fully aware of what her powers awoke in others: being mentally and emotionally exposed without their own control could be terrifying.
Suddenly, Riven snapped out of his slumber, obviously startled, and pointed his finger at her accusingly. "Stay the fuck out of my head!" His voice was loaded with as much poison as possible, but a tiny, unintended smile screwed his cover up.
Snorting, he shook his head a little and turned around, away from the control of her bright eyes. "Mind fairies..." Still somewhat confused, he started to walk away, mumbling something like: "Walking red flags..." Nosey even at their best, thinking of being know-it-alls because of their abilities... He had been a careless idiot for letting his guard down. There was no doubt that the girl would go straight to Dowling, perhaps Silva, too, to report that the school's unstable rebel should be watched under this big threat...
Annoyed, he lifted his gaze off the ground just in time to see Sam, Musa's boyfriend, approaching them. Personally, he had nothing against the lad: if anything, despite being a loner, Terra's brother always seemed to be nice to everyone. Truth to be told, there was nothing to complain about his fighting skills, either. Perhaps those traits ran in the family. Passing him by, he tapped Sam's shoulder heavily. "Good luck with that one, mate!"
Without his own will, the fairy had awoken something in him, something he both feared, wanted to forget and also secretly missed...things from last year, that almost seemed like another life... Needing his own space, he sped up his steps and headed inside, the image of deep purple eyes oddly and fascinatingly haunting him.
Musa couldn't help smirking to the different auras of these two boys: one reminded of the serene, sunny summer day, while the other one was pretty more like an autumn storm.
For a moment, Sam looked after Riven and then turned his confused gaze to his girlfriend. "What was that about?"
Musa came closer to him, smiling and enjoying his calming and innocent presence. "Nothing." Technically, she wasn't lying. She had no room in her heart to be offended; over the years, she had become quite familiar with those kinds of hostile reactions to her powers. Whatever that had been, she didn't have energy to analyze it now. Besides, she had more pressing, romantic and distracting matters on her mind right now. "Wanna head back to the suite?"
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eliemo · 4 years
Text
Should Have Known Better
Summary: It all happened at once, too many people talking, too much anger and hatred and fear, and it was his fault his fault- Virgil felt himself fall backwards, landing hard on the kitchen floor
CW: Panic attacks, arguing, angst with a happy ending. virgil wrongly assumes he’s going to be hit but his family loves him
Read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703804
Really, the fight was ridiculous to begin with. It was nothing that hadn’t happened before, and Virgil definitely should not be feeling the vaguely familiar churn in his gut, the sickly tightening of his chest.
It was a simple disagreement about a new idea Roman had come up with, something “new and spectacular” the creative side had colorfully put it. And of course, Virgil had voiced his concerns. Because that was what he did.
It was easier now- now that he could work with the others rather than against them, a voice to be listened to rather than feared and chased away.
And it wasn’t like they didn’t argue among themselves constantly. As Logan had pointed out, their bickering was usually what got them to any kind of conclusion. And sure, it would get heated sometimes, fingers pointed and name-calling would occasionally occur (usually from Roman) and on certain days it would be more difficult to handle, voices too loud and too much, but it had gotten easier. There was no more malice aimed at him specifically, no more ganging up and refusing to listen, no more hate or scorn from the people he cared so deeply about protecting.
Today, however, maybe things were a bit different.
He’d been a bit too harsh, snapping too quickly and escalating the argument faster than was necessary. It hadn’t been a good morning- or a good couple of days if Virgil was being honest with himself.
He was still reeling after the incident with Deceit, a harsh reminder of how easily the Dark Side could slip into their lives, pulling Virgil right back into the memories of how things used to be.
He hadn’t slept much, and when he did there was nothing but nightmares and flashes of the past, and the last few days that familiar anxious feeling had been steadily building up, making him more jumpy, his paranoia skyrocketing.
The other sides had become accustomed to recognizing the signs of a bad day, especially if it only continued to get worse. This last week, however, everyone had been understandably preoccupied, and Virgil had no right to put his own issues above more pressing matters. It would go away, it always did.
Now, he wondered if he was imagining just how aggressive this argument had become.
“Why do you always do this?” Virgil froze at Prince’s shout, his definitely louder than normal shout, a brief burst of panic clawing at his throat.
He should stop. He should deflate and duck out, give in and let Roman have his way. The other side was angry, on edge, and fed up with his bullshit, and Virgil knew all too well what happened when he pushed an issue with someone blinded by rage.
But Virgil couldn’t stop himself, and the fear and nausea building up in him made him defensive, mouth moving without his brain’s permission.
“Because I’m the one who has to protect Thomas from your stupid ideas! Unlike you, I’m not in this for my own ego!”
Guilt coiled in his gut when he saw hurt flash across Princey’s eyes, but it was quickly drowned out by another wave of fear when the look morphed to anger.
Patton cut him off before he could yell again, but there was no relief in the interruption when the words managed to be somehow even worse.
“Hey, come on Kiddo, that doesn’t seem...Roman’s just trying to help Thomas, you know that.”
The words were laced with disappointment, something that felt like knives to his chest when it came from Patton- the first person to ever see him as anything other than a useless hindrance, especially when it came with the underlying suggestion that Virgil didn’t care about Thomas.
Everything he did, every time he argued, he was just trying to protect him. All of them. Patton knew that, didn’t he?
“I am too!” He said, ignoring the way his voice had become just a bit quieter than before. “Patton, you think I do this just for the hell of it? I’m just trying to make sure Thomas doesn’t--”
“Doesn’t what?” Roman interrupted, too loud too loud too loud. He was angry, all Virgil ever did was make people angry. “Doesn’t live a happy worry free life?”
It wasn’t hard for Virgil to pick up on the unsaid. Thomas would be better off without you. We all would.
Virgil’s throat felt tight, the panic now cold and all consuming. He could feel his heartbeat growing dangerously fast, breaths coming too quick and shallow. He opened his mouth to shoot something back, to keep them from seeing how scared he was, blinded by Roman’s glare and Patton’s irritation.
It was almost a relief when Logan raised a hand to cut him off, stoic and impartial. Virgil wasn’t sure he would even be able to force coherent words out right now.
But then Logan raised an eyebrow at him, not the careful look of concern he gave when he noticed Virgil was having an attack, but something that seemed to be a reflection of both Roman and Patton’s anger.
You made them all mad, you made them mad, they hate you, they hate you they hate you. You’re the outcast again, they don't want you here.
“Virgil, you know we all...appreciate your input-” he hesitated, he’s lying he’s lying “-but logically, this shouldn’t be an issue. You’ve blown this all out of proportion, Virgil. More so than usual.”
He didn’t miss the irritation in the Logical side’s voice, the way all eyes in the room were on him, glaring at him, hating him.
Virgil was suddenly painfully aware of how close they all were, knees practically brushing under the table they’d gathered at in the mindscape’s dining area. In Thomas’s living room, during these arguments there was usually a good amount of space between them.
The only one who could really reach him without crossing the room was Logan. If he was angry enough, he could easily reach through the stair railing and grab Virgil by the hoodie, holding him still while Roman approached, Patton standing to close him in-
But they wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t.
But...it would be so easy now. They were so close together, and he’s made them so, so angry. He would deserve it anyway, he’d only pushed an issue that didn’t matter, been the bad guy again and pushed the only people who cared about him to the point of-
“Anxiety, are you even listening?”
Virgil flinched at the use of that name, the memories of hate and bitter loneliness rushing back all at once, the annoyance in Prince’s voice burning like acid.
No one seemed to notice, anything Virgil even tried to breathe out overshadowed by Logan’s biting remark. “Virgil, we do expect you to at least listen to—“
“Are you ok, Virge?”
It all happened at once, too many people talking, too much anger and hatred and fear, and it was his fault his fault-
He had barely even heard what Patton had said, unable to comprehend the concern building when he was so focused on Roman, who hadn’t stopped ranting.
The creative side raised his hand- and it was just a gesture, just a dramatic gesture, Virgil knew that.
Roman often spoke with his hands when he was worked up, always flamboyant, always moving. Virgil was used to that, it had never bothered him before. It was harmless.
But all of that went right out the window the second he saw Roman raise his arm up, still consumed with anger, and everything after that was a blur of panicked instinct.
He jerked backwards, eyes squeezing shut as the chair tipped over, stumbling on suddenly unsteady legs, everything spinning and far away.
He thought he heard voices, angry no doubt, angry at him for being such a baby, for making such a big deal over a problem he created, but the blood was rushing to his head, heart pounding in his ears.
Virgil felt himself fall backwards, landing hard on the kitchen floor. Without thinking he brought his hands up to block his face, to protect himself as much as he could, whimpering despite himself when he heard approaching footsteps. He curled in on himself, tense and waiting.
“Virge?”
There was a hand on his shoulder, and Virgil flinched back so fast he didn’t realize he’d slammed into the wall until a flare of pain shot up his back.
“Virgil! What’s wrong?”
He was fairly sure it was Patton talking, voice muffled by Virgil’s own out of control breathing, the panic attack building up faster and faster.
Through the haze of fear, Virgil thought that maybe Patton was the one side who wouldn’t hurt him for this. Patton was kind, he wasn’t one to get angry easily, despite how impulsive and protective of Thomas he could be.
The other two could often be swayed by their anger, but Virgil knew they wouldn’t do anything drastic to him if he didn’t deserve it.
Only, Virgil did deserve it. He’d been stupid and unfair, and some anxious part of him had driven him to tear apart the family he’d waited so long for. They had every right to lash out however they saw fit.
And yet here he was, cowering on the floor like a child, unable to stop the string of please that barely translated to breathy, shaking words.
“I- I’m sorry, I sorry guys, we- we can do w-whatever...whatever you guys want I was just- I was just…”
“Hey, Virge it’s ok,” he heard Patton say, and Virgil thought there was a hint of confusion in his voice. “It was just an argument, honey. What’s wrong?”
Slowly and cautiously, painfully aware of how badly he was trembling in his little heap, Virgil glanced up from the floor, face burning when his vision was blurred with hot tears.
Patton was crouched on the floor a few steps away, looking like a deer in the headlights, eyes brimming with his own tears behind his glasses. A spark of hope ignited in Virgil’s chest. Patton wasn’t angry anymore. Patton didn’t look like he wanted to hurt him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil could see Roman and Logan where he’d left them at the table. They’d both stood up at some point, frozen at their chairs, but Virgil didn’t let himself look long enough to see their expressions, pushing himself back against the wall at the cruel reminder of how angry they’d all been.
“Virgil,” Logan said, and Virgil flinched before he could stop himself. “You need to breathe. 4, 7, 8, remember? We—“
“Can’t—“ he gasped out, the uncertainty mixing with fear only making his panic worse. “Can’t breathe, I can’t-- I--please I’m- I’m sorry I’m sorr--”
“Hey kiddo, it’s alright,” Patton said, Virgil latching desperately onto the kindness he could pick up on in the words. “It was just a little argument. I think we all got a little carried away, right guys?”
“Of course!” Roman agreed, still too loud, too close to becoming angry again. “I apologize, I was not acting very...princely, I suppose. If I had known it would…” he trailed off, and Virgil could practically see the crestfallen look in his eyes at the anxious side’s reaction to his voice.
But Virgil couldn’t help it. Because no matter how loud the rational part of his mind screamed at him that everything was fine, it was just Roman and Roman wasn’t angry, Roman would never hurt him, it was buried under the relentless waves of panic.
He would hate himself for the reaction later, he was sure, guilt bubbling somewhere beneath the fear, but the sound of Roman’s voice only made him cry harder, chest squeezing out what little air he could get, leaving him sobbing uncontrollably on the floor, still waiting for a blow that he knew would never come.
“Oh kiddo, oh no we...Logan what do we--”
Patton’s voice faded as Virgil’s breathing got worse, rocking himself slightly, gasping desperately for air he wasn’t allowed to get. He shouldn’t be reacting like this. He shouldn’t. They were his family. They wouldn’t hurt him, no matter how pathetic or annoying he was being, no matter how much a nuisance he was, no matter how much he held Thomas back.
Because that's what he did. That was all he did, no matter how hard he tried to be good, to help and protect, to get the people he cared so much about to just understand. They knew in the long run, they were better off without him. They only put up with him because they had to. If they had an excuse to get rid of him-
What if this was a good enough excuse. He’d made them all pointlessly angry, right after Deceit had tried to manipulate them. He was a Dark Side. They knew that. What if all of Patton’s love wasn’t enough to convince the others not to treat him like one?
What if--
“Virgil.”
Virgil’s eyes snapped open at the calm, carefully calculating voice of Logan, who had somehow managed to kneel by his side without the other noticing his approach. The logical side had begun to reach forward, hand hovering over Virgil’s knee but not touching.
Virgil froze completely, gasping breaths coming to a halt, eyes glued to the unmoving hand. The hand that could so easily grab for him if it wanted to. It wasn’t like he could do much in this state, weak and dizzy, easy to overwhelm.
“Virgil,” Logan said again, that familiar gentle tone he took when Virgil was having an attack. “You’re safe. You’re with us, you’re ok. You’re suffering from cognitive distortions. I assure you, whatever is happening is not--”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
Virgil hadn’t even realized he’d spoken until Logan’s reassurances were abruptly cut off, his hand disappearing from view, the room deathly still and quiet.
And suddenly it was so much worse. Because he couldn't bring himself to look up, couldn’t see the look in Logan’s eyes, couldn’t see where he put his hand-
Virgil’s eyes went to Patton, wide and desperate and clouded with so much irrational fear.
“I’m...I’m sorry,” he stuttered, not even sure why he was apologizing anymore, definitely unsure of what he was even afraid of. They weren’t going to hit him or send him away. They wouldn’t. “Sorry, sorry I’m sorry I argued I-I shouldn’t have-should have...should have stopped I’m sorry, you guys can—“
“Virgil.” That was Roman, and there was something about the creative side so easily using his name again that made him stop his rambling. “You don’t need to...you’re not in danger, Virge. Nobody’s upset with you.”
Virgil blinked, glancing wildly around the room at the three sides, his thoughts battling with reason, aching chest struggling to take in shaky breaths.
“But…” they weren’t going to hurt him, they weren’t going to hurt him, “But I...you were mad. I shouldn’t- shouldn’t have kept arguing.”
They argued all the time. It shouldn’t have been any different. But Roman had never...shouted at him like that before, the others were usually able to reign him back in. And they all hadn’t been against him like that, treating him like the antagonist since...since before things had gotten better.
And then he’d been called Anxiety. A slip up that usually would never have been a problem, but today- when things had only been building up with no release, reminders of Deceit and dark sides, it had all been too much.
“Virgil,” Logan said softly, and Virgil winced, everything just a bit too loud. “Can you look at me, please?”
Virgil swallowed, throat still dry and tight, breathing still too fast and painful. But he obeyed, tense and trembling, raising his head to meet Logan’s gaze.
The logical side, though his worry was still evident, gave a small, reassuring smile. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Virgil.”
And that undid something in him. Because he’d known that, he’d known his family would never hurt him. But hearing it said aloud for him, so simple like it was never even a question, that was all he needed to finally take a full breath, shoulders dropping their defensive stance.
He took in shuddering breath after shuddering breath, unable to stop the hiccuping sobs that escaped in between.
“Oh, kiddo.” Patton was beside him now, hands still hovering, tears welling up in his eyes. “Can I touch you?”
Virgil nodded, refusing to be ashamed of how desperately he needed the physical reminder of safety. He leaned forward, shutting his eyes as he slumped against Patton’s chest, the other side quickly wrapping his arms around Virgil’s back.
“Hey, hey you’re ok,” Patton whispered, holding him close. “Copy my breathing, ok? I’m right here. Hold for four…”
It took some time, as it usually did during a bad panic attack, Patton guiding him though his breathing exercises, breaths slow and exaggerated, voice quiet and soothing.
Virgil almost fell back into a fit of panic when it dawned on him just how stupid he’d been, how tired everyone must be of him doing things like this.
But then Patton kept talking to him, Logan offering gentle reassurances, Roman sending him guilty smiles every time he catches Virgil's wandering gaze, and everything slows down again.
He’s beyond exhausted by the time his breathing slows enough for Patton to be satisfied, his lungs no longer screaming for air. He was too weak to even sit up on his own now, still shaky and sore, eyes heavy and drooping.
He barely even felt himself being lifted off the floor, held in steady, safe arms and carried away from the kitchen. When he did manage to open his eyes, it was to a white suit and Roman looking down at him like Virgil was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Virgil swallowed, guilt rising up in his chest at the reminder of how he’d acted, how the sound of Roman’s voice had driven him deeper into a senseless panic. He could only imagine how bad he’d made Roman feel for something that wasn’t remotely the creative side’s fault.
“I’m sorry,” he slurred, his mouth refusing to cooperate with his muddled mind. “Didn’t...didn’t mean to make you--”
“I shouldn’t have yelled,” Roman said, smiling softly like it was as simple as that. “I should have seen you were having a bad day.”
Virgil tried to shrug, but it was nearly impossible with a body that felt like lead cradled against Prince’s chest while they made their way to the couch.
“It’s ok.”
Roman slowly lowered Virgil onto the cushions, hesitating briefly before settling down next to him, giving the anxious side plenty of time to protest or move away. Not that Virgil would, Roman a welcome distraction from the shivers still racking his body.
“Patton’s getting you some water,” Prince explained. “And Logan’s running to find extra blankets. Do you...want to be alone?”
Any other time, Virgil might have been embarrassed by how quickly he shook his head, and later he would definitely deny the way he leaned into the warmth of Roman’s touch. But he didn’t miss the quiet sigh of relief that came from the other side, or the fond smile he couldn’t quite shake.
Roman hummed under his breath, carding his fingers through Virgil’s hair as he gradually drifted off, vaguely aware of someone draping a blanket over his shoulders, two more weights settling on either side of him.
Virgil was fading before he could even think to try to make out what any of them were saying, the distant sound of their voices lulling him to sleep, still aware of the protective hold Prince had on him.
184 notes · View notes
drakewalkerfantasy · 3 years
Text
Sneak-peak: Consequences: Chapter 1 (Rewrite as my own work)
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Synopsis: Two people from two different worlds. He 27 years old former Marine, who doesn’t believe in happy endings, at least not for him. She 23 years old college graduate with the older brother who watch her like a hawk always thinking that no guy is good enough for his little sister. Two complete strangers who come together for a night of solace from their moment of anger and hurt. By consequence, they were brought together and their fates intertwined. 
What will happen when the reality of the one night’s actions filled with lust and anger will hit them both? What will happen when he will find out that the girl he spend the night with is not only his roommate but also his best friend’s little sister? The one he swore to himself never to touch, the one for whom he will never be good enough. 
Please let me know if anyone is interested. This is rewrite of series I never finished and that started as fanfic, but I really want to make it as my own series.
The cover is temporary for now. (I think)
@choices-bound​ hon let me know if interested :)
Jordan Williams never was the one who scared easily, or backed out of his decision in that matter.
Former Marine, even though his parents didn’t support him... the one of the few survivals of his platoon… The hero, who singlehandedly carried his friends out from the burning hell on Earth not knowing if they were dead or alive. Who by some miracle wasn’t hurt as badly but was left with the nightmares to remind him of how lucky or cursed he was, and with the ugly scars to never let him forget of the ones who weren’t as fortunate to live.
And today even though he still wasn’t scared, he was nervous. This was the last Friday before he will start his new life. No more deployments. No more deaths, at least not on his watch. And as many lives as he could save after he would learn how.
And he was determined to learn how… to be the best in what he would be doing hopefully for the rest of his life, trying to block the nerves raking through him. The only thing that overshadowed his new beginning was the fact that the place that he found for the living, was already occupied, which meant that he would have a roommate, something that he was determined never to have. The main reason why no matter how hard his best friend tried to convince him to rent a house together, he did not succumb to his persuasion. Preferring solitude instead to the company. Not wanting anyone to see him at his lowest or to hear his screams during the nights, while he would wake up sweating from the same nightmare night after night. And as a result of that he got himself in a situation in which he was now, fated to share the house with the person he even never met.
He huffed, driving toward the lonely standing house, someone’s car already parked there. He looked around, leaving his car on a free space. Getting out of his SUV, Jordan went toward the house. When he got inside, he noticed still packed boxes in the hall, but he didn’t hear or see anyone else. He walked further into the house, entering a living room he will be forced to share with someone else. He looked around the neat and cozy room, two armchairs were standing opposite fireplace, the massive bookcase was located along one of the walls. He was about to go and check the kitchen when he heard his phone calling. Taking it out, he checked the Caller’s ID before answering the call, listening for a familiar voice, coming from his mobile.
“Morning to you too, Brandon,” replied Jordan, putting his keys into the bowl.
“Hey, Jody. Did you finally got to your new place? Settled in okay? How is your new roommate? Still not regretting not moving in with me?” questioned Brandon in his carefree manner, as if he wasn’t on the verge of the death no longer then six month back after he would save Jordon’s life and in return he would saved his. His cheerful voice caused a surge of amazement through Jordon while he listened to his friend waiting for his turn to speak.
“You know I hate it when you call me that,” Jordan growled frowning after finally the questions stopped in that annoyingly abrupt manner he hated. “And yes, I already got to my new place but had no chance to settle in just yet. Answering your last question, I have no idea who my new roommate is as I can see only unopened boxes there. But I do hope that the person I share this place with is someone who will not interrupt my study or throw constant parties. Although based on the fact that instead of unpacking, this roommate just left… I guess I can say goodbye to that…”
“Yes, yes… About your study, you need to unwind for the last time before your study starts… sometimes I really think you forget how to do that spending all your free time buried in books,” started Brandon, making Jordan flinch at his  choice of words. He could be buried… they both could be as were most of the guys from their platoon.
Pale, bloodied faces appeared in front of his eyes. His hand suddenly covers in blood right in front of his eyes… screams deafeningly loud dying on their lips twisted in agony, leaving only few of them alive, and if no one would come soon they would join their comrades, their friends… sooner then they could finish the prayer…  not that anyone from them believed, not after what they have seen or lost.
“What do you mean?” forced out Jordan, closing his eyes and letting out the slow breath.
“I mean that I was invited to the party, and you are coming with me. I need a wingman, so you are coming,” exclaimed Brandon, making Jordan  frown moving his phone a bit further from his ear.
“Never,“ cut Jordan, shaking his head. He was done with partying or woman. "you know I don’t do parties… not anymore.”
“Yes, but you also know I will not give up until you say yes. So let’s make it easy for both of us.” laughed Brandon.
“I need to unpack my stuff, and it may take the whole day. Also, I need to go to the library to pick up some books for my studies as tomorrow the library will be closed. So this time you will need somehow to manage this on your own.”
“If these are the only reasons then…. partyyyyy.”
“I told you, I will not have…,” tried to say, Jordan.
“I will be there in twenty minutes and will help you unpack, and then we will pick up your books before crashing this party.”
“You will not give up… right?”
“Man, you should know by now that never.”
“Fine…” sighed Jordan exasperatedly looking at his watch. “be here in twenty minutes, but I will leave a party before 10 pm. Understood?”
“See you in twenty minutes,” replied Brandon, ending the call.
Almost an hour later Jordan finally heard a knock on the door. Grudgingly he opened it letting his best friend inside the house.
“You are late,” stated he holding one of the boxes in his hands.
“Sorry, I met my new neighbors and they needed help with some boxes,” shrugged Brandon nonchalantly passing by Jordan feeling not even the slightest remorse in his delay.
Another hour later and unloading the last boxes that Jordan brought with him, they finally started to unpack them. And in another three hours, they were finally done. All the stuff that Jordan took with him were put neatly to their places. The bookshelf in the living room stocked with new books he brought, and a picture of him and his older sister put above fireplace. They both looked in satisfaction around the room putting the last boxes into the storage place. Brandon patted Jordan on the back before going toward the door.
“So now, when we finally finished with unpacking,” started his friend, his eyes widening, when he noticed how Jordan displeasingly looked on his new roommate’s still packed boxes. Quickly his friend marched back to him grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door, letting him only grab his keys on the way out. “Don’t you even dare to think about that. You are NOT touching your roomies’ stuff. Now…. let’s go to this place, where you need to be quiet and bore yourself to death or we will be late to the partyyyyyyyy.”
That word again… thought Jordan. The word that makes him flinch every time, and his teeth grinding together.
“Can you stop calling it that. And the library can be fun when you know what you are looking for,” noted he, hoping his friend missed his reaction before they both exited the house, shutting the door behind.
This was already three o’clock when they rushed toward the library, trying to get on time before it will be closed. After another ten minutes of arguing that Brandon should wait for him in the car instead of constantly complaining about the place or flirt with every single girl they would meet Jordan ran up the stairs taking two steps at the time before disappearing behind the heavy doors. When he was about to round the corner, he felt someone bumping straight into him. The heavy books the person was carrying fell to the ground hitting painfully his foot. Making him swear under his breath, looking at the person in front of him with the frown.
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"Screw people.”
Title: “Screw People.” Requests:  Could you please do a shy hunter reader that’s a bookworm and doesn’t talk much with both him and the reader starting to get crushes on each other - @hford0311 and also; Dean request, if you want. In a bar/club, protecting the reader from jackasses, goes wrong when Dean gets kicked out, expects reader to go back into bar. Reader leaves with Dean? If you want to that is :) - @brokencasbutt67-writer Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing, canon-typical violence, sexual harassment Word Count: 3.5k
note; i loved both of these requests and saw them fitting well together, hope u guys enjoy !! (also i was listening to this version of ‘iris’ by the goo goo dolls while writing the ending in the Impala, could be cool to listen to while reading if u want!)
alsoooo sorry this has taken so long to get up, thank you so much to the people who requested this for their patience!!!! xxxx
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Finally, you were alone.
The mood was set, scented candles wafting lavender smoke into the air as you settled back onto the bed, a coy smile carving your expression as you turned down the fresh sheets. A blissful sigh fell through your parted lips as you stretched out your arm, fingers grasping and searching until finally, they found it - the object that had been at the back of your mind all day, tinging every thought, spurring every movement...
You pulled the hardcover edition of your favourite book into your lap, a grin splitting your face as you snuggled beneath your duvet and ardently threw open the novel to the page you had marked all-too-long ago. The tantalising rustling of pages paired with the familiar musk of a well-loved book served to eagerly drag you into the story’s depths, and suddenly you felt like a child again; tucked beneath your blankets well after bedtime, eyes straining in the dim light as you hungrily devoured a new story, pages flying as you frantically read, drinking in the fresh plot and bubbling with excitement over the adventures of the characters as you escaped into a fantasy world all your own, if only for a few hours.
The hunting life allowed little time for the simple pleasures of life - between the constantly switching monster of the week, paired with the looming threats that always overshadowed those associated with the Winchester brothers, you’d barely had a moment to yourself in weeks. And so, the moment the boys declared it was time for a break, you were snatching your favourite book from where it had been gathering dust on your shelf, bracing yourself to forget the outside world and the troubles it held, to escape into a world where a happy ending was guaranteed, where you weren’t destined to lose all those you cared for.
That was the beauty of books, you reasoned. You near always knew what to expect. Heroes meeting and facing adversaries, learning lessons about themselves and their relationships, and by the end of it all, finding some semblance of fulfilment or at the very least, closure. And of course, you weren’t one to complain about a touch of romance thrown in along the way.
Life had no such guidelines, especially the hunting life; no promises of happiness, of even making it past the next week. People were even less predictable; at least books were easy to read. Life’s characters were far less easy to understand. Perhaps that was why you insisted on avoiding them as vehemently as you did - books were your comfort, and all people had given you thus far was grief.
“Hey, Y/N, you busy?”
Well… maybe not all people.
You held up your book wordlessly, nose still buried beneath the pages as you ignored Dean Winchester’s query. He chuckled, leaning against the doorway.
“Whatcha reading?” he asked, peering at the cover as he sauntered into the room. You sighed, keeping your page with your thumb as you let the book fall shut around your fingers.
“Old favourite,” you explained. Dean nodded appreciatively.
“Cool. Well, just wanted to say hey - you did a great job on the hunt today, by the way,” he informed you, flashing you a proud smile that had you fighting to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the slight acceleration of your heart. 
“O-oh. Thanks, but… I don’t think it was anything too spectacular,” you protested weakly, a nervous chuckle escaping you as you fiddled idly with the pages of your book. Dean shrugged.
“Hey, you got the job done - Sam and I woulda been toast without you,” he said. “You should give yourself some credit.”
You allowed a smile. “Thanks,” you tentatively replied, voice small. Dean held your gaze a moment longer, eyes heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, before he cleared his throat and ducked his head.
“Look, uh- Sam and I are headed out tonight. Nothing fancy, just headed to the bar, some celebratory hey-we-killed-a-nest drinks, you know the drill. You can- you can come with us, if you want,” he invited. You laughed dryly.
“Thanks, but… I don’t think that’s really my scene,” you said. “Being surrounded by people? Not my thing.”
Dean shook his head in amusement. “I can’t believe how shy you are - you just took out those vamps like it’s nothing, Y/N. That’s pretty damn impressive,” he commended. “You have nothing to be shy about - you’re a total badass. If anyone has the right to be a cocky son-of-a-bitch, it’s you.”
You hid your smile as you glanced down to the book in your lap, fingertips nervously rubbing over the paper, curling it beneath your touch.
“I think you have enough cockiness for the both of us,” you said, sending him a shy grin. He snorted.
“Yeah, maybe. Well, offer still stands - Sam and I are leaving in fifteen,” he told you, straightening up and casting you once last, lingering glance as he headed towards the door. Your awaiting novel itched in your hands, eager to be read, but you paused as Dean hovered uncertainly for a moment by the doorway, as if locked in an internal debate.
“Hey, Dean?” you asked quietly, the words flying from your lips before you could halt them. That was the thing about Dean - talking to people wasn’t always easy for you, but something about the eldest Winchester set you at ease in a way no one else could ever hope to. He turned around immediately.
“Yeah?”
You tore your gaze from his jade eyes, though you felt the raise of goosebumps along your skin as he kept his soft stare trained on you. You flushed, tucking your hair behind your ear, cold fingers discordant against the heat of your cheeks.
“You ever think… sometimes monsters are easier to deal with than people?”
Dean frowned, ambling over to your bed and perching himself at its edge, only a few feet away from you. He shrugged. “Sometimes, sure - but people… people you can reason with. They have… morals, you know? A code. Means they can be scarier, sure, when they decide not to care - but when they do care, it’s…” Dean’s eyes flickered from yours to the ground, and he licked his lips as he chuckled breathlessly. “When you find someone to care about… I can’t imagine anything better,” he said, his eyes darting up to your own. You found yourself locked under the vice of his gaze, his expression softening with a flicker of vulnerability before he cleared his throat and broke the trance. “Why’d you ask?”
You released a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. “I dunno. I guess, just- what you were saying earlier, about being a good hunter? It’s because monsters are easier. I get monsters - most of them don’t think too hard - all instinct, y’know? But people are… people are manipulative. They judge and they hate and they hurt, I just… with monsters, I know what I’m getting. People are a lot harder to trust,” you explained. Dean nodded slowly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but… ah, you’re probably right. Screw people,” he said with a cheeky grin. “But it’s not like you need to stay in contact with everyone you meet. Sometimes fun can just be… fun. Doesn’t need to be serious,” he told you, though there was a trepidatory edge to his playful tone. “You should come out tonight - let loose for once. You deserve it.”
An amused hum fell vibrated in your throat. “I dunno, I’m an all-in kinda person,” you mumbled, and you saw a small smile tilt the corner of Dean’s lips.
“Yeah. Me too.”
You scoffed. “You, really? Mr Different-Girl-Every-Night? You’re a serial flirt,” you teased, and he smiled, shaking his head.
“Yeah, but there’s a difference between a fling and actually getting to know someone - I dunno if you’ve noticed, but sometimes it feels like I care a little too much.” His smile died, and he quickly shook his head, throwing up another grinning facade. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your nerdiness.” He cast a pointed glare at your book. “Seeya later.”
Dean left, the bedsprings jumping back into place as he picked himself up from the seat, traipsing through the door and leaving you with sweaty palms and a stomach full of butterflies. You watched as he left, eyes lingering a moment too long on the empty doorway before you turned your attention back to the novel in your lap.
You wanted to read, you really did - but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, the words would blur into an incomprehensible mass that your eyes instinctively skimmed, only for you to reach the end of the page without having understood any of it at all. After a few failed attempts at reading the same few lines over, you sighed in defeat, setting the book aside as you leaned back against the headrest.
Maybe Dean was right - maybe you should give ‘people’ another chance. Maybe it was time to put your incessant shyness and distrust behind you, to ‘let loose’, as Dean had so aptly described it. 
Dean…
You thought of the warmth of his smile, the vibrant ringing of his laugh, the coy smiles he’d shoot you when no one else was looking… the idea of going out was sounding more and more appealing.
And so, you decisively marched to the library, where Dean was grabbing Baby’s keys as Sam shrugged on his jacket. The sound of your footsteps had both their eyes jumping towards you, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of hope in Dean’s surprised expression.
“Hey, uh, I was thinking that I might take you up on that offer, Dean,” you said, extending a wry smile. “Mind if I come?”
Dean’s mouth opened and closed silently, before he finally nodded. “I-uh- yeah, of course!” he exclaimed, just as shocked at your decision to step out of your comfort zone as you were. “What changed your mind?”
You shrugged, looking down at your feet as you scuffed the floor with the toe of your boot. “Maybe I should give people a chance - you’re right, I should let loose every now and then,” you said, tone clouded with false certainty. Dean frowned, but let your uncertainty slide as his concerned expression was replaced with an encouraging smile.
“Great, finally a drinking partner who can keep up with me,” he quipped, shooting a glare at Sam, who rolled his eyes.
“Hey, someone has to drive you home when you’re plastered,” Sam countered. You laughed, the uneasy atmosphere dissipating as the three of you walked to the car. Dean shot you a wolfish grin, and the warm sensation that buzzed in your chest had you certain that you were making the right choice.
What was the worst that could happen?
---
Turned out, the ‘worst’ had a name - it was Brandon. You knew this only because he refused to let you forget it.
“Come on, sweet cheeks, let me buy you a drink,” he coaxed, words stumbling into one another as his hot breath rolled over your face, reeking of beer as he leaned in uncomfortably close on clumsy feet. 
“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” you replied, throwing him a distasteful, uncertain glance as you took a step back. Your eyes flitted over to the bar, where Sam was talking to a girl and Dean was grabbing drinks for the both of you. Catching your glance, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he noticed your company.
‘You okay?’ he mouthed. You managed to give him a tight-lipped smile and a short nod before Brandon was dragging your attention back to him.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, baby,” he slurred, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. “It’s just one drink.”
You took another step back. “Like I said, I’m good,” you insisted, though your voice came out small and hesitant. You gritted your teeth as he snorted scornfully, and your hand balled into your fist at your side as he sauntered forwards once more. Though you weren’t necessarily one for confrontation, you had no qualms about putting this asshole in his place. Barely twenty-four hours ago you’d single-handedly taken on three vampires - you were pretty sure you could handle an overeager drunken bastard.
Before you had the chance to put him in his place, however, Brandon was being shoved away from you by a familiar pair of toned arms. 
“They’re not interested, jackass,” Dean growled, taking a protective stance over you that you comfortably settled into. The drunk stumbled back, mouth falling open in outrage.
“Who asked you, huh?” he challenged, and Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he ran his tongue along his teeth. You could see his hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his side.
“I think a better question is; why can’t you take no for an answer? They said they’re good, man. Give it a rest,” Dean spat through clenched teeth. Brandon snorted.
“Mind your own fucking business, dick,” he snarled. “You want ‘em all to yourself, huh? Selfish prick.”
Dean scoffed, shaking his head with a grim smile, and for a moment you thought he was going to turn away… until he slammed his fist into your harasser’s jaw with a hard crack that made even you wince.
When Brandon arose, he was nursing a red jaw and a bleeding nose, but the red fluid trickling across his lips and staining his chin did nothing to mask the pure hatred etched into his expression as he lunged at Dean. The eldest Winchester blocked him easily, grabbing his wrist and slamming his face into a nearby booth table. There was a flurry of movement and shouts as Dean landed another punch to the man’s cheek, pressing him into the table with his arms locked behind his back.
“Apologise,” Dean demanded, and Brandon gasped for air.
“I’m sorry, man, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. Dean kneed him, and the man grunted in pain.
“Not to me, idiot. To them,” he hissed, nodding towards where you stood with wide eyes and brow half-cocked in appreciation at Dean’s strength as he held the bulky man down like he weighed nothing. 
“I’m sorry! Christ, let me go, please!” he said frantically. 
“Dean, what the hell!” Sam’s voice interjected from behind you, and suddenly a bouncer was peeling Dean from his bruised and bloody opponent.
“Time to go,” he said in a gruff voice. Sam stepped forward, and the bouncer shot him a look.
“He with you?”
“Look, we don’t want any trouble-” Sam began, but Dean made a sound of angered amusement.
“Speak for yourself, Sammy,” he muttered, still glaring daggers at Brandon. Dean caught your eye as the bouncer dragged him outside, and the last you saw of him before he was tossed outside was his cocky wink. You chuckled to yourself as Sam quirked an eyebrow.
“What the hell happened?”
You shook your head, walking to a window and watching as Dean paced before finally heading towards the parked Impala. 
“Guy was a dick - he deserved it,” you said, watching as Dean wiped his bloody knuckles on his jacket. “Look, I think I’m gonna head off with Dean,” you added, and Sam cast you a concerned expression.
“Do you want me to come?” he asked, though you could hear the reluctance in his tone as he glanced back at the girl he’d been talking with, who was still waiting for him by the bar. You smirked.
“Nah, I’m good - you go have some fun,” you teased, giving Sam a playful smile that he sheepishly returned.
“Alright. Seeya later, Y/N.”
Sam left, and you braved the cool night air as you walked to the Impala. The tail lights were on but the engine was off, the car sitting perfectly still in the parking lot. As you approached, the music from the bar echoed distantly behind you, captured by the walls and bouncing hollowly into the darkness, fading into nothing but a thumping bass and a vague suggestion of guitar and vocals.
You tried the passenger door. Locked. You tapped on the window, and watched as Dean leaned across the seat to unlatch it. The moment it swung open you slipped inside, the familiar scent of leather overruling the pollution and alcoholic odour the car park carried. The door fell shut with a heavy click, blocking any lingering traces of music from your ears. 
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, hearing only the haggard sounds of one another’s breathing and the light static of the radio. You glanced over at Dean.
“How’s your hand?” you asked. Dean laughed darkly.
“Fine,” he told you, but extended his hand towards you when you raised a quizzical brow. You tenderly took his palm against your own, turning over his fist to look at his knuckles - red and raw and tender, but nothing serious. Instead of releasing him from your grip, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and Dean tentatively raised his gaze to yours. 
“I could’ve handled that guy, y’know,” you told him sternly. Dean ducked his head guiltily.
“Yeah, I know, it was just… the way he was treating you…” He trailed off, a weighted sigh heaving from his lips as he shook his head to himself. “You didn’t deserve that. No one does, but… especially not you. I… got angry.”
You smiled wryly. “Bit of an understatement,” you said, and he laughed, genuinely this time.
“Yeah, maybe,” he allowed. “Look, I don’t think I’m welcome here tonight - I’m gonna head home. Just… give me a call when you wanna be picked up.”
“Nah, I’m ready to call it a night, too,” you said, leaning back into the seat. Dean looked at you in surprise.
“What? What happened to getting loose, giving people a chance, all that crap? Seriously, I don’t think you need to worry about that jackass - I doubt that dickhead will ever approach another person in his life,” he said seriously, and you laughed.
“Yeah, I doubt it - but I don’t think I’m really in the mood to let my hair down,” you replied, amused.
“Wait, what? But we were having such a good time!” he countered, and you met his eyes again, nodding.
“Yeah - we were. Screw other people, Dean. I thought I needed to act like someone I’m not to be happy - someone I thought I should be. But… partying? Being around a whole bunch of strangers? That’s not me, Dean. I… I don’t need to surround myself with people to be happy, it’s not in my nature. I just need… a few people I really care about,” you said, giving him a tiny smile and a pointed look.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmured. “Y/N… sweetheart, you never need to make yourself uncomfortable because you feel like that’s how you ‘should be.’ You… damn, Y/N, you might be shy, but it’s frickin’ adorable,” he said playfully, and you laughed, elbowing him gently as you ducked your head in embarrassment, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I mean it, Y/N - you’re… you’re fucking amazing,” Dean breathed, and your laughter died as his eyes found yours again. He held your gaze, and you felt his eyes burning into your soul, piercing through your quiet front and seeing you for you in a way that no one else ever had.
And suddenly, he was kissing you.
His breath was warm as it blended with yours, and he tasted of whiskey and moonshine as his large hand found your cheek, cradling it as though you were something easily broken. His chapped lips bit into your own and your leg cramped up as you twisted to press closer to him, but none of that seemed to matter as you lost yourself in the bliss of kissing Dean Winchester.
You pulled away, catching your breath and taking a moment to soothe your racing heart as you ran your hand along his jaw, his stubble grazing your fingertips as he closed his eyes beneath your loving touch. 
“So… you’re sure you don’t wanna go back in?” he checked, and you giggled, shaking your head.
“Definitely not,” you breathed, your breath fanning over his lips as you leaned your forehead against his. Dean melted against you, his arms looping around your waist and bringing you close to his chest.
“Good,” he murmured, “because I don’t think I can let you go until I get another kiss…” he said, raising a cocky eyebrow. You grinned.
“I think that could be arranged…” you purred, sealing your mouth against his.
Screw people, you thought as you lost yourself once again in Dean’s reverent touch. You had all you needed right here.
__________
Forever tags: @babygirloreo​ @calaofnoldor​ @lmpala97​ @sebastianshoe​ @81mysteriouslyme​ @castieliswatchingoverme​ @kina666​ @liviaolivia​ @simplyxparker​ @helpmeluci​ @demonsofhunting​ @bee-happy-buzz-on​ @lilulo-12​ @amandatar-06​
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thatonedoctorwhoau · 4 years
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Chapter 7! I feel I should mention that I have no idea how to write children, so if Tommy and Tubbo come off as very mature for 10 year-olds, you know why. As always, special thanks to @dtvibez for all her help, so go send her all your love and support
Summary: 24 hours ago, George Ashworth lived a completely normal life, with completely normal people, and a completely normal job. 24 hours later, he was running for his life beside a man he had met mere hours prior from an otherworldly monster. Suffice to say, this was the start of something new and wonderful. And hair-pulling annoying.
On Tuesday the 22, October 2015, at precisely 11:00 pm, Tommy Anderson and Tubbo Smith stared in awe at the sight before them. The box they had been trapped in was not a box, it was something much more.
“Tubbo,” Tommy asked, breathing heavily, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Yeah,” Tubbo responded. “I think so.”
Beyond them, a small bridge lined with rails led to a center octagon, where what Tommy assumed was a control panel. The panel was silver and covered in switches, buttons, and levers. On top of the control panel, a long tube jutted into the air, with tv placed on a rotator. The tube had lines of a silver liquid running through it, which connected into a shape that reminded Tommy of a whale's tail. Above the aforementioned tail hovered three yellow crystals, bobbing up and down ever so slightly. The walls of the room were black and covered in small dots, similar to what Tommy recognized as braille. Zig-Zag shaped beams shot from the floor below into the ceiling, lined with white stripes of light.
Tubbo and Tommy walked forward, running their hands along the rail, before stepping onto the central octagon floor, examining the panel. A series of monitors made up the first area of the console, followed by a lever that had a large red ball at the end of it. Tubbo focused his attention on the small portable tv connected to the tube. Taking hold of its handles, he extended it forward, in an attempt to see what was on it. The tv showed a set of circles, with lines emitting from it. Unable to decipher what it meant, Tubbo moved it back to its original position.
“Hey Tubbo,” Tommy yelled from the other side of the control panel. Tubbo turned to look at him. “Do you think I should press this button?”
Tubbo thought back to the words of the man who’d locked them in here. “I’m pretty sure the guy told us not to touch anything, so, no!” Tommy pouted and muttered to himself, but took his hands off of the panel
The boys were startled by the sound of someone yelling, and turned to look back at the door. “What was that?” Tommy asked.
They soon had their answer, as seconds later, the door slammed open, and the strange man ran in, clutching a bundle in his hands. “Hey, what's going on?!” Tommy yelled. The strange man knelt down and leaned the bundle against the rail, before running along the railway onto the central octagon, turning right and running down the path and vanishing. “What is that…” Tommy asked hesitantly, trailing off. Tubbo stepped forward, taking a closer look at it. Realization dawned on him when he spotted the familiar shade of blue.
“It's George,” he whispered in shock.
+++
“Is he going to make it out of this?” Tubbo asked quietly. The three were sitting in one of the rooms located within the massive box. Across from them, George lay asleep, bandages and an oxygen mask covering most of his face.
After George was brought onto the box, Tubbo and Tommy had rushed over to him, attempting to wake him up. The babysitter was covered in blood, and as they had shaken him, his blood began to soak their hands. The stranger returned, taking George into his arms. Tubbo and Tommy protested, but the man ignored them, walking towards the other side of the ship. The boys followed him into a room that resembled a surgery room that Tubbo had seen on TV. The man placed George onto bed, and placed a mask over his head.
Tommy protested initially, attempting to protect his friend, but the man quickly reassured him that if he didn’t intervene now, George wouldn’t survive. With no other options, the boys left the room, not wanting to see what the man was going to do.
Approximately 7 minutes later, the man beckoned them back into the room, where they sat down. The man explained that George had been badly wounded, with severe damage to his intestines and lungs. Through his efforts and the ‘power of hydrodime,’ the man had been able to heal him enough so that he could be put into a coma, before he could attend to the injuries on his head and back.
With a sigh, the stranger rose from his seat. “My name is Wilbur, pleasure to meet you.” He said, extending his hand in greeting. Tommy took his hand first.
“I’m Tommy.” He muttered, letting his hand fall down quickly. Wilbur turned to Tubbo, hand outstretched
“I’m Tubbo.” He said, shaking the others hand. “Is George going to be okay?” Wilbur looked back at the man on the bed.
“He will be.” He said.
“How long do you think he’ll be like, that?” Tommy asked hesitantly. Wilbur paused for a moment before speaking.
“While his injuries were pretty severe, the hydrodime will help heal him at a faster rate. I suspect he’ll be back to normal in...” he counted on his hand. “Three to four business days, given the current rate of exchange.” Tommy let out a moan.
“What am I gonna tell my mum?” He exclaimed. “She’ll kill me when she sees the mess we’ve made.”
“I’ll think of something, don’t worry. Pull out the ol’ Soot charm” Wilbur said, sitting back down on his chair and adjusting his jacket.
Tommy wore a disgusted look on his face. “Please do not flirt with my mother.
Wilbur ignored the child's response. “For now, I’m allowing you guys to stay with me. There's still two of the Marcorx running amuck, and I can’t have you getting hurt.”
“What's a Marcorx?” Tubbo asked.
“They’re those things that attacked you. The Marcorx are some of the most territorial creatures in the universe. They’re constantly on the move, trying to find a ‘perfect home.’ Now typically, they travel by themselves, but three, in one group. It's extremely rare to even see two of them together, let alone three.” Wilbur trailed off.
“Why did they attack us?” Tommy asked, scooching his chair closer to Tubbos.
“Well, it's difficult to say.” Wilbur began. “In order to find their ‘perfect home,’ a Marcorx will need to find a living being of enough energy to steal.”
“So they’re vampires?” Tubbo interjected. Wilbur considered his statement for a moment, before continuing.
“In a way, I suppose so.” A silence began to fill the room. The sound of George's heart rate monitor beeping intermittently, becoming the indication of a passage in time.
“How did you know how to save us?” Tommy asked quietly, turning to look at Wilbur. The man looked down.
“I had an inkling that something was going to happen. My Tardis has a sensor on it that can track explosions of alien energy across the planet, and while it isn’t always the most accurate, it led me here.”
“What about George?” Tubbo interjected. “You act like you’ve met him before, but he's never mentioned you”
Wilbur let out a small chuckle. “I met him this morning. I decided to pop into a local school for a spell, see if I could find any evidence of alien activity. Imagine my surprise when this random bloke runs into my class, yelling about a monster chasing him.”
“Wait,” Tommy exclaimed, voice raising, “This wasn’t the first time this happened?”
Wilbur shook his head, “Nope, based off his language, this is probably the third time this has happened today.
In the next moments, Tubbo became aware of three things. The first being Tommy’s angry screaming at Wilbur for failing to prevent the attack from happening. The second being Wilbur's attempt at a refute being overshadowed by Tommy's continued swearing. And the third being the shuffling noises coming from Georges bed, as heart rate monitor began speeding up
+++
“George?” Tubbo whispered quietly.
Wilbur turned at the sound, spotting the boy in green making his way towards the man's bed. George's body had begun to shake, and he could hear small groans of pain coming from him. Stepping away from Tommy, he told the child to shut up, which caused Tommy to let out a gasp of shock. Wilbur then checked George's heart rate monitor, which had begun to speed up.
“George,” he said, breaking the momentary silence that had filled the room. “George, are you with us?” He placed his right hand on the man's shoulder, nudging it in an attempt to wake him up. George's eyes remained closed, but his body began to shake more violently than before. His heart rate monitor grew louder.
“George, you have to wake up!” Tubbo exclaimed, reaching over and shaking the man's shoulders. By now, Wilbur noted how his eyeballs were moving frantically back and forth underneath his eyelids, and how he had begun sweating a terrible deal. Wilbur moved away from Georges bedside, racking his brain for a plan, ‘I can’t let him die like this.’ He thought to himself. ‘I just got started, I can’t lose someone so soon, not like last time.’ As he attempted to think of any helpful action, his eyes landed on the medical table a few feet away. The table was covered in a variety of silver instruments, but what drew Wilburs attention the most was the panacea, a yellow cylinder shaped like an epi pen.
The panacea was an item of great value, known throughout the galaxy as one of the most powerful healing treatments in existence. Several lifetimes ago, Wilbur had been sent on a quest to retrieve the item from the acidic caves of Zarlint, in order to save the dying queen. He hadn’t been quick enough, and after the queens death, he had been banned from the star system she had ruled. Wilbur had kept the instrument, as a reminder of his failure.
Wilbur looked back towards George's heart rate monitor. The device was beeping frantically, but the main cause of concern came from the Gallifreyan spindles glitching across its screen. In a language the children could not understand, they spelled out a grim prediction. Unless he intervened with the panacea, George's body would burn up from within, and he would be dead within a matter of minutes. ‘Is he worth saving?’ The question bounced around in his mind. Afterall, George was merely a human, insignificant to the vastness of the universe. Wilbur had no way of knowing which galaxies or planets he could save from destruction with such a device.
‘But,’ a voice echoed through his head, ‘He could be more than anyone could expect. Even the most insignificant being could alter the universe in incredible ways. He said he knew you, but you’ve just gotten started. Isn’t it worth discovering how?’
Making his decision, Wilbur leapt forward and grabbed the panacea, ripping the cap off of it. “Get out of the way.” He said, rolling up his sleeves.”
“What are you doing?” Tommy exclaimed, moving to stand in front of George, Tubbo joining his side.
“I’m trying to save his life!” Wilbur responded. The heart rate monitors beeping increased.
“What is that?” Tommy asked, pointing at the panacea.
“Its an epi-pen!” Wilbur lied.
“George doesn’t have an epi-pen.”
“Tommy-”
“Tommy, please stop. Just let him save George” Tubbo shouted, grabbing his friend's arm. Tommy stared at him in shock, before relenting, allowing for the man to pass. Wilbur took a hold of Georges forearm, shook the panacea several times, before stabbing it into Georges arm. The panacea made a sharp clicking noise, before letting out a small ping. Wilbur removed the device from George's arm and placed the device into a nearby trash bin. George's body began to cease its rapid movement, and with a deep sigh, returned back to its previous lax state.
The heart rate monitors quiet beeping became the only noise filling the room.
After several minutes, a shuffling could be heard from Georges bed again, causing the three to stand up and cautiously approached the man. For a moment, they remained silent, before a low moan was emitted from George
Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, squinting at the light. “Wilbur?” He asked in confusion
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blkmxrvel · 4 years
Text
Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (15) - [CONVERTED]
Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader
Summary: In  the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their   Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount   Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El   finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of   her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so   terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?
Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.
A/N: once again i’ve fallen in love with this story and read it officially now 6 times. I’ve converted the rest of this series so, get read guys! we will be on a loving kara danvers spree until the new year lmao! enjoy. also, in this chapter and this chapter only, kara is short. i totally forgot about this part and there literally nothing i could do to fix it without having to change the story and, this isn’t my work so. 
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Kara parked her car in the lot, and practically skipped up the walk towards Nia’s little home behind Mount Overland House. Ever since she’d come home from the seminar that morning she’d felt like she’d been walking on air. Then again, that may have started the night before, when Y/N called and asked her out on a date.
Kara had always thought she’d be the one to ask Y/N out on a date. It would be romantic, possibly in the park. They’d walk together around the pond, hand in hand, not saying anything but simply being together. And from her research Kara would know that the sun would set at exactly 5:39 p.m., and she’d watch the sky for the first blush of pink to appear before she would turn to Y/N with a soft smile on her face and ask the perfect question, at the perfect moment.
“Y/N Hastings, will you go out with me?”
Not that she’d been thinking about it, or planning it, of course.
And ordinarily if anyone had beaten her to the punch and disrupted her carefully not-planned romantic gesture, she would be upset. But the quiet, nervous and halting way in which Y/N had asked her, just before they’d said good night…
“Miss Kara, I w-was wondering if you’d m-maybe like to go out on a-a date with me…”
That trailing off, that soft uncertainty, of being so unsure of herself and what she thought Kara might feel... Kara had found herself saying yes, yes, absolutely, of course, without even a second thought to her own plans and sense of melodrama. Y/N had cast the line in her own way and Kara was hooked. Not only was she hooked but she was sunk, because Y/N had sounded so relieved, so shyly proud of herself when she’d refused to tell Kara where they were going, only saying that she’d fixed everything already and Kara only needed to wear something casual but comfortable, and would she please mind picking Y/N up?
So there was a present wrapped in white and tied with a green ribbon waiting in the car, and Kara was wearing a pair of checkered shorts under a black top, with knee-high black boots to match, her heart was fluttering wildly as she knocked on the door to pick up her date.
But it was Nia who answered the door, not Y/N, and she grinned at Kara. “Before I let you in, I must ask you, what are your intentions with my houseguest?”
Kara raised an eyebrow, and Nia laughed, throwing the door open wider. “Come on in, Miss Zor-El, Y/N’s been running around the house all morning a nervous wreck waiting for you.”
“I have not.”
Kara turned and the heart that had been fluttering skipped a beat. It amazed her how in even jeans and a shirt Y/N could look beautiful, but this time she’d done her hair up instead of letting it fall on her shoulders, and somehow she looked even more breathtaking than usual. She smiled at Kara, a light blush on her cheeks as Kara simply couldn’t stop staring.
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, I adore it,” Kara said. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around Y/N in a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you, Miss Kara.”
She’d missed her too; it had surprised Kara just how much. She was used to being alone, at her home and in the hotels for seminars, and it hadn’t ever bothered her, not much at least. She had her albums and Theo, her TV shows and Alex and Maggie, her dads. But then Y/N had come into her life and made a home in a little piece of Kara’s heart, and now the house seemed too big, the hotels dirty and lonely, and the albums of love and longing had taken on even more meaning.
It wasn’t that during the few days she was gone she thought about Y/N constantly; she had a job to do and it was easy enough for Kara to get distracted even without Y/N in the picture. But if she didn’t actively think about her except when calling, texting, or buying her gift, Y/N was still ever-present in the back of her mind, a quiet safety or security that was almost like the bracelet Kara wore around her wrist.
Twice during the seminar when she was supposed to be paying attention, Kara had found herself playing with it, and wondering what it would be like to switch it to the other side.
Kara let Y/N go and smiled at her. “I missed you too. Don’t you want to tell me where we’re going?”
Y/N pretended to consider it, and Kara nearly rolled her eyes; this one had a bit of the brat in her, apparently. “Nope,” Y/N finally said, sounding merry. “You’ll find out soon enough, Miss Kara. But we should go so we’re not late.”
“Late for what?”
“Nice try.”
“Have her home by midnight!” Nia called after them, and Kara shook her head, but couldn’t help but laugh when Y/N did.
Kara held open the passenger door for Y/N then made her way around to the driver’s side, grinning a little when she climbed in and saw Y/N eyeing the present. “That’s for after our date,” she said, and this time did roll her eyes when Y/N pouted. “Good things come to those who wait, Y/N.”
“I think I’ve waited long enough…”
Kara glanced over, and moved her right hand off the steering wheel to rest on Y/N’s knee. It was sobering, really, how quickly a happy moment could be overshadowed by him, like a spectre that they couldn’t stop from hanging over them. She briefly wondered if the evil that was James Hudson would always be there, or if they’d ever make it past him.
“But you know,” Y/N added, her own hand coming to rest on top of Kara’s, “Some things are worth waiting a lifetime for.”
“When did you get so romantic, Y/N Hastings?” Kara teased, relief flooding her.
Y/N smiled. “Right around the time I met you, I think,” she said. “Please turn left here, Miss Kara.”
It was cute, the way she framed her requests; Kara could tell by the slight way Y/N’s hand clutched the car door that she wasn’t fully comfortable still, with asking things or giving “orders.” But there was also a determined look on her face, as if she was going over the directions in her head, focused on getting them to wherever they were going successfully.  And that only made Kara more eager to know exactly where they were going.
“So you had a good time at the park the other day with Alex and Maggie?” Kara asked, keeping her eyes on the road while remaining hyper-aware of Y/N’s fingers lightly curling around the hand on her knee.
“I did, yes, Miss Kara,” Y/N nodded. “I think… I don’t know, I- she-“
Kara glanced at her. “Y/N?”
“Alex’s a good Dominant,” Y/N blurted suddenly, then chewed her lower lip. “She… she’s really good. Turn right here.”
This was the same route Kara took when… hmm. The excitement grew a little bit stronger within her; could it be that Y/N had… But she pulled her thoughts away from their date and back to the words the woman next to her had spoken. She’d said it with so much wonder, such surprise, and it pained Kara to think of just how much Y/N expected every Dominant she came into contact with to be like her former one. But it was worse when the person was male, because it was a man who had inflicted every inch of pain on her body and every flicker of hurt into her heart. For Y/N to start realizing that maybe, just maybe not every male Dominant was a bad one… Kara felt that peculiar warm feeling again, and she turned her hand over, locking her fingers with Y/N.
“She really loves Maggie.”
“She really does,” Kara agreed. She paused, and then added, “It’s amazing how beautiful our lives can be when we have someone to really love us.”
Y/N nodded with a small smile, and then her eyes lit up. “We’re here, Miss Kara.”
Kara’s mouth dropped open as the theater came into view. The marquee for Wicked seemed to shine like diamonds in the afternoon sun, and if she hadn’t been driving she would’ve clapped her hands like a child in her excitement. “Wicked?” she exclaimed. “We’re going to see Wicked?”
Y/N’s smile grew as she watched Kara in amusement. “Yes. Alex helped me decide and I ordered the tickets…”
“But how did you know I love the theater?”
“You… put the numbers in my phone.”
“Well, yes, but I wasn’t hinting or anything.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow at Kara.
Kara shivered a little. “… Are you sure you’re not Dominant, because that eyebrow.”
“Do you know where to park?” Y/N asked, laughing a little.
“Of course I do,” Kara said with a huff, still scarcely able to believe that Y/N had been able to pull all of it off. Mixed in with the excitement was no small amount of pride, that Y/N had orchestrated the whole thing without much help. Still, she’d have to give Alex a high-five later; she always knew exactly what Kara liked even if she pretended not to.
Kara parked on the upper deck and turned the car off, moving to exit but stopped, because Y/N was rooted to her seat and now clinging to her hand. Kara’s brow furrowed in confusion before it cleared with the realization. Y/N may have organized their date, ordered the tickets and gotten them here successfully, but the parking deck was full. Which meant a full theater, which meant a lot of people, which meant… terrified Y/N. Kara shut the car door and turned towards her, holding her hand gently.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said quietly. “We could have had a picnic somewhere, or played board games at Nia’s. This is a lot for you to take on, Y/N.”
“I-I know,” Y/N stuttered, her voice shaky, “But I wanted to. You like the theater and I… I like you. You’ve been so good to me, Miss Kara; I wanted to do something good for you. But I’m scared.”
“And that’s okay.” Kara sat in the car, silent for a moment, before finally saying, “How about this. We’ll go in and have a look around, and if we decide we want to stay we can. I’ll be right there with you, and I’m not going to be upset if you can’t do it. All right?”
“You promise you won’t be mad, Miss Kara?”
Kara squeezed Y/N’s hand. “I could never get mad at you for that. And like I said, I’ll be right there with you. I know you can do it.”
Y/N hesitated, and then nodded. “Okay. I really do want to see it. From the description it sounds as if Elphaba isn’t evil, only misunderstood.”
“Keep talking like that and I might fall in love with you.”
“Did you know that the Clock of the Time Dragon’s wingspan is the same as a Cessna 172?”
“Stop it.”
Y/N giggled and fell into step with Kara as they walked towards the front of the theater. They paused at the ticket counter, and Y/N swallowed hard, taking a deep breath.
“Two tickets, reserved under Y/N Hastings.”
A second went by as the man pulled up their account, then handed the tickets to them with a smile. Kara beamed at Y/N, who grinned back.
Once at the door, Kara stopped and looked at Y/N. She held out her hand, saying nothing, only smiling.
Y/N took her hand, and they walked into the theater together.
Instantly Kara felt at home. The theater was swamped, but these were her people, her family in addition to her dads and Alex and Maggie. It was where she felt whole, complete. It was where she knew she belonged. She’d spent her life preparing for a life in New York, to be a Broadway star bolstered by her talent and the love of the submissive that would be waiting for her after every show. She’d been accepted to one of the premier drama schools just prior to graduating from National City Academy, and Kara Zor-El knew her star was on the rise.
And then her dad had gotten sick.
Randy Zor-El’s illness hadn’t been fatal, and both Kara and her other father had thanked God about that, but it was enough to keep him out of work for almost a year, and since David Zor-El couldn’t quit his job to care for his husband, the task had fallen on Kara. Well, she’d actually volunteered, refusing to even entertain the idea of some strange nurse coming in to care for her father. As a spoiled only child doted on by her daddies, Kara had felt it only fair – and necessary – that she stay behind and temporarily postpone her dreams of going to New York.
Her father hadn’t been sick again ever since his illness had faded away, but Kara’s New York dreams had been postponed ever since. Alex had helped find her a job within the government, and now Kara’s life was wrapped around SETS.
So she craved every chance she got to go to the theater in National City, or occasionally to a show in Columbus. For a few short hours it was a chance to immerse herself back in that life, to imagine what if. What if she was in New York? What if she was just finishing up a show, and was opening the door to her dressing room to find Y/N there, kneeling in wait for her?
She felt Y/N’s hand tighten in hers and Kara came back to the present, pulling the woman slightly closer to her. “You’re all right,” she reassured gently. “No one’s going to hurt you, I wouldn’t let them.” Y/N nodded at her, her face pinched and white as her eyes darted here and there, looking at everyone and everything before finally settling on one of the souvenir counters.
“Do you want to go look?” Kara asked. “You might find something you like.”
Y/N gasped, her eyes widening. “I forgot to bring money,” she said, sounding heartbroken.
“Hey, that’s all right,” Kara soothed, hating the way Y/N’s eyes were tearing up. “I can buy my own souvenirs, and I tell you what, if you want anything, I can get it and you can pay me back, okay?”
Y/N chewed her lip, seeming uncertain, but she nodded. Kara walked them over to the souvenir counter, her own eyes wide with green and pink, the Grimmerie, snow globes, the Emerald City glasses…
The Emerald City glasses. Y/N was staring at them, an excited grin on her face, and Kara fought back a giggle. Out of all the things, the sunglasses were what captured her interest? She poked Y/N’s arm lightly.
“Do you want those?”
“No, that’s all right, I forgot to bring money.”
Y/N rolled her eyes as Kara turned to the woman behind the counter and said “One pair Emerald City glasses, please, thank you.”
“You look adorable,” Kara said, once she’d made Y/N try them on. “My little Ozian.”
Y/N took the glasses off and looked at Kara, her gaze searching. “Your little Ozian?”
“Yes, well. Ahem.” Kara cleared her throat, feeling awkward, but was saved by the gentle tone sounding through the lobby that told them it was nearly show time. “We should find our seats!”
It didn’t take them long, because Y/N had reserved them fourth row seats, and Kara was absolutely not ashamed that she squealed when she discovered this. Still, her happiness was short-lived (and she’d forever hate that pun, thank you very much) when she sat down and realized that the person immediately in front of her would prevent, by virtue of his ample height, any good view of the stage. She sighed and rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, leaning her chin on her hand.
“Miss Kara?” Y/N said, glancing at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing,” Kara said, and then waved her other hand in the general direction of the man in front of her. “I’ll just have a nice muscle strain after this is over from attempting to see the stage.” She offered Y/N a small smile, hoping that she wasn’t sounding ungrateful. “I’m perfectly used to it, being shorter does have its disadvantages.”
Y/N nodded, looking from Kara to the stage to the man, then back at Kara again. “You could um… no, never mind, it’s stupid.”
“I could what?”
“Sit on my lap? T-that way you could see, and no one is in front if me so I’d be able to see just fine too, and… but it’s a dumb idea.”
It was cute, the way Y/N sat nervously with her hands in her lap, a few loose tendrils of hair falling into her face and making her look even more gorgeous than she already did, if that was possible, Kara thought. But she also thought that this wasn’t the way things were done. Dominants weren’t supposed to sit in the laps of their submissives – but wait, Y/N wasn’t even hers. So maybe… she glanced at the back of the head of the person in front of her, then over at Y/N.
In seconds she had moved over and was sitting in Y/N’s lap.
“O-oh,” Y/N said, startled, slowly moving her hands up so that her arms wrapped around Kara’s waist, holding loosely. “Are you… comfortable, Miss Kara?”
“Very,” Kara said, taking a deep breath and relaxing so that she leaned back against Y/N. She felt Y/N’s chin come to rest on her shoulder, and Kara smiled, once again feeling warm and happy. She opened her mouth to speak when a sarcastic voice at her left stopped her.
“Don’t you need to get into costume, munchkin?”
Kara tensed in spite of herself, in spite of being so used to these jokes. She’d been called worse, during her time at the Academy; if it hadn’t been for Alex she wouldn’t have had any friends at all, really. She knew they all envied her talent, her ability to make jaws drop and eyes water with a simple note sung with power at the end of a song. Her classmates showed their jealousy with insults about her height or whatever else they could think of, and despite her best efforts to not let it bother her, some days were easier than others.
“Sir, I think you might want to be quiet so that you’re not asked to leave.”
Kara craned her neck around to look at Y/N in shock. Y/N’s eyes were dark with anger as she regarded the man that had spoken rudely to Kara.
“Oh, really, and why is that?” he sneered.
“Because,” Y/N said calmly, “As you can see, there are children here, so no dicks are allowed.”
Kara nearly choked as the man turned almost purple with rage, before finally turning around and focusing his gaze back on the screen. She began to shake with the effort of trying not to laugh out loud, and shivered when she heard Y/N’s voice in her ear, low and uneven.
“Have I displeased you, my lady?”
She should warn Y/N against calling her that. She shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N as the knight who had just defended her honor. But Kara was helpless to do anything except shake her head no, because Y/N sounded so nervous and worried, so she said with a little giggle, “You’ve been around Maggie too long.”
“Maybe,” Y/N said, “But you need protecting, too.”
“And you’ll be the one to do that?”
There was a pause of what seemed to be an eternity, before Y/N at last said, her voice down to a whisper, “I want to be.”
The fanfare of No One Mourns the Wicked saved Kara from once again disappearing too far into her own thoughts, and the excited way in which Y/N clutched her only made her own excitement grow stronger. Kara had seen the show many times, and knew all the lines by heart, especially Elphaba’s, since it had long been her dream to someday play her on the stage, and so she was able to concentrate more on Y/N’s reactions. She was happy that Y/N laughed in the right places, applauded after all the songs, and it seemed to Kara that it was natural for the woman who held her, that Kara herself wasn’t the only who might be right at home in a theater.
“Do you need to leave?” Kara asked as Y/N breathlessly dragged her off to the restroom at intermission, words spilling out of her about how wonderful the actresses were, how fantastic Defying Gravity had been.
Y/N stared at her as if she’d grown three heads, and Kara laughed, squeezing the girl to her. Their faces were inches apart, and it would be so easy to just…
But no. Not in a bathroom, for goodness’ sake.
They stood on their feet in raucous applause through the curtain call, and for once in her life Kara made the decision to forego autographs at the stage door. She had more important things to attend to, she thought, even if for a split second she wondered if she’d gone insane; what could be more important than stagedooring?
But one look at Y/N’s face as Kara drove them towards the coffee shop was enough for her to know she’d made the right decision. She took the wrapped package into the shop with them, laughing and ignoring Y/N’s pouts until they’d both ordered – and Y/N had gotten chocolate chip cookies again – and sat at a table far in the back away from prying eyes, before sliding the present across to Y/N.
“For me?” Y/N said, taking off the Emerald City glasses and resting them next to her coffee cup.
Kara shook her head. “For you, little brat.” She smiled. “Open it, whenever you’re ready.”
But Y/N simply stared at the package, running the tips of her fingers over the paper and the ribbon, seemingly lost in thought. Kara was beginning to know that faraway look well, the expression that told her once again Y/N had slipped into the past, to a memory she might not have wanted to revisit.
She reached out and captured Y/N’s hand with hers. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Y/N smiled at her slightly. “I just… haven’t had a present in a long time, Miss Kara.”
“Not since…”
“He let me sleep on the bed once, for Christmas. At the foot. For a few hours anyway; he said he wouldn’t have enough room to be comfortable if I was there all night.”
Maybe she could hire Maggie as a hit man… Kara squeezed Y/N’s hand again. “Well now you don’t have to worry about that, and maybe your friends will help make up for that lack of presents.”
“Friends,” Y/N echoed, giving Kara a strange look.
“Open it, Y/N.”
She did, slowly and reverently, and Kara realized with a grin that Y/N was going to be one of those people, who opened every present as slowly as possible, while making sure not to tear any of the paper or ribbons, because they wanted to save them. It gave her a little thrill, though, thinking that maybe Y/N would want to save the paper and ribbon in a scrapbook. A reminder of the date they’d first shared.
Kara watched in nervous anticipation as Y/N lifted out the sketchbook. Her eyes fell on the front cover, her mouth opening in a little “o” as she read the inscription.
A bird does not sing because she has the answers. She sings because she has a song.
Y/N said nothing as she opened the book and began to leaf through the empty pages, and Kara began to worry that she didn’t like it. Maybe she should have gone with a necklace. Or a charm. But all of those… those were gifts a Mistress bought for her girl, and even though things were probably going a lot faster than they needed to with Y/N, Kara knew they weren’t ready for that yet, if they would ever be.
But then Y/N looked at her, and the tears fell down her cheeks as her lips trembled into a smile. “It’s g-gorgeous, Miss Kara, I—“ She stopped then, unable to speak.
Kara let out the breath she’d been holding. “Really?” she said. “You liked it? I-I just know you love to draw and, well, you’ve got paper and pencils but I wanted you to have something that you could use to keep all of your sketches together. And I know you like birds, so when I found a book with the quote on it, I thought maybe…”
“I love it. Thank you, thank you so much.”
They sat together in the coffee shop talking until the sun had slipped under the horizon. Kara told Y/N about her father’s illness, about how she’d been meant to go to New York but hadn’t, and how much she loved the theater.
“Do you ever want to go?”
“To New York?” Y/N nodded, and Kara shrugged. “Sometimes I do wonder if I am past my time for that,” she answered honestly.
“I don’t think someone like you could ever be past time to do what you want, Miss Kara. Maybe you can sing for me sometime, and let me decide that.”
Kara blushed. “Maybe I will.”
They drove back to NIa’s house in silence, both women happy and warm in the glow of first date bliss. Kara was bound to chivalry as usual and insisted on walking Y/N to the door, both because it’s just what was done, and also because she knew Y/N was tired, and she didn’t want her steps to falter on the way. So she walked beside Y/N, watching for any sign of a stumble, then stood underneath the lamplight when they reached Nia’s door. The house was dark and Kara was relieved; she’d half-expected Nia to be watching for them out the window.
“I had a wonderful time,” she said to Y/N. “I’m really, very proud of you for doing all of this. For doing it for me. Thank you so much.”
In the dim light Kara could see Y/N turn pink as Kara hugged her. “It was for me too,” Y/N confessed. “I just want… more time with you, Miss Kara.”
Kara pulled back then, no longer hugging Y/N but still holding close to her. Their faces were inches apart again…
Kara leaned up on her toes and gently, softly pressed her lips to Y/N’s. Once again she pulled back and waited, her eyes searching Y/N’s.
Y/N’s arms wrapped around her as her lips met Kara’s in another kiss. These kisses weren’t like the first one Kara had shared with Y/N; frenzied desperation had been replaced with gentleness, and with Y/N’s hands splayed across her back and Kara’s hands held safely, securely around Y/N’s waist, Kara knew that wrong or not, too soon or not…
As somewhere in the dark she could hear a bird sing, as they kissed over and over in the lamplight, Kara knew there would definitely be more time with Y/N Hastings.
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ecto-american · 4 years
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Broken Ectoplasm C12
Ectoplasm | Broken | Glass | Theory | Community | Eavesdropping | Worldbuilding | Accident | History | Shape shift | Puppet | Or Read on FFN or AO3. | shoutout to @qlinq-qhost for betareading
Day 20: Ink
There was just simply too much to think about. The most annoying part was how that's all there was to do. Think, think, think. Zero action.
Agent G sighed boredly as he sunk further into his couch. He had nothing to do, nothing to prepare for tomorrow. His work clothes were already hung and ready for tomorrow. Everything needed, including lunch and his briefcase of paperwork, was packed and sitting on the kitchen counter. Part of him wished that he had been able to just stay the night at the hospital instead of passing over shift duties to the night team. Ghost activities always spiked at night. But given that the night team had come in white sweatpants and personal laptops, headphones and snacks, they likely suspected that Phantom was going to be very quiet that night. Which made sense, given his condition.
God the Guys in White was boring.
Where was the action? The excitement? The cool jet planes and armor and shootouts? That's what had enamored him, that made him curious and interested in the organization. While the initial introduction to his current career path was certainly not...ideal, it definitely caught his attention. Nothing really could do so better than accidentally being shot at over being mistaken for the ghost boy. Hell, after he joined, he learned that the very agent he was partnered with now was the one that nearly shot him out of the Amity Park Observatory. So it's not like he was in the wrong department.
Agent K didn't even really seem interested in being a detective of any kind. Agent G, the entire ride back to the main office, had tried to ask about his thoughts. His theories, his predictions. Agent K had none, and he didn't really care to listen to Agent G's either. Even after they got the medical records, and Agent G was left floored, Agent K had no insight into the situation.
Skinning? A skinning? That was so disturbing, the reported account. Maybe, maybe he could understand why a ghost researcher would wanna skin a ghost, even though that in itself was kinda creepy. But a ghost, skinning another ghost? Skinning them "alive" so to speak? That was some dark stuff. Something he'd imagine hearing some kind of serial killer did. Even a ghost as supposedly evil as Phantom didn't deserve that.
Emphasis on the supposedly.
Agent G's mind continued to wander as he tuned out the low background noise of his TV going. The Guys in White...was simply so boring. So much waiting, he had entertained himself via reading, and re-reading, and analyzing every case file that Agent K and Agent O were assigned to. It caused him to notice some odd details in the finely printed black ink that led him to have doubts when he began to match Phantom's long, detailed case file with various other cases that were on file within the GIW archives.
The mass public report and stories, the personal accounts and statements taken from dozens and dozens of people during what was dubbed the Overshadowing Epidemic. Many people, whose names he even recognized, had come forward with their accounts and to be interviewed about their overshadowed experiences. Their accounts were similar. Most experienced a loss of time, feeling constantly cold for a while afterwards, being dazed and confused following the immediate aftermath. Some felt physically and mentally exhausted, as if their bodies were never given rest or they had been running a marathon. None of them could pinpoint truly how they knew that they were overshadowed, but they always knew when it ended, and many could immediately see the ghost in question leaving their body. While a number of people came forward with their concerns, the case author reported that given security, news and personal footage, that it was estimated that anywhere from twenty-five to forty-percent of Amity Park was overshadowed during this time while only a hundred people had personally come forward with their account. And for what purpose? Why did this mass overshadowing even happen so suddenly, and why did it end? Nobody was really sure, and the case author made no attempts to even answer the question, nor did he even suggest the question even being a reason.
According to both Phantom himself and eyewitnesses, Phantom stated that he was on their side during this time. At least five eyewitness accounts, names of people he recognized from his high school years, had come forward to claim that Phantom had saved them from being overshadowed. This was dismissed as being ridiculous according to the case author. But this matched up reasonably well.
Frederich Isak Showenhower, more commonly known as Freakshow, was taken into custody after being in possession of stolen goods. After his initial interview with the Amity Park police, he was extradited to GIW's headquarters due to his story. It was absolutely wild to the police, but it had that odd grain of truth that made them ship the ex-circus leader their way. His story was that it was really ghosts that did it using a ghostly artifact, and that he wanted a plea bargain of sorts, to get less jail time since he did not technically do any of the actual stealing. It was noted that in exchange for his information on ghostly artifacts, that he would be given a lesser sentence.
Phantom was shown on security footage and seen by witnesses stealing jewelry and money, robbing stores. Agent G studied all that footage closely, and he had noticed something peculiar. Many of those unique objects stolen matched perfectly to what was confiscated from Showenhower's loot. Both in item description and appearance. Phantom was never shown actively stealing money or jewelry or anything really, outside of this window of time period that matched with Showenhower's statement.
And these things just continued to match on, and on, and on. Things matched up, hidden in the endless text of black ink of case file after case file. It didn't quite confirm innocence. There was still a lot of questions, like motivation and some details that'd need clarifying. But the amount of facts that clicked together was enough, in Agent G's mind, cause a significant doubt in Phantom's defense.
But nobody really wanted to hear it.
He had brought it up to his boss, to no interest. Agent K told him to not bother digging too deep into seeing something that wasn't there. Agent O was more interested in his upcoming vacation with his wife. The other agents tuned him out. Nobody really seemed to care about the motivations or deeper questions involved in the casework.
Ghosts are just evil, they do that, his coworkers claimed, and Phantom was no different than any other evil ghost. But even evil had motivation of some kind. They almost always had some motivation. That's what drives people, and ghosts, to do anything. Many ghosts didn't attack humans or even come to the human world. So why were some attacking and others not? Why would Phantom, if he was evil, seemingly flip flop from doing good days one day to doing evil ones the next? It made no sense. Especially given the supposed behavioral patterns he displayed, it just was an odd fit, and Agent G had simply too many questions.
Agent G turned his TV off as that empty, confused feeling set in. Something just wasn't right concerning Phantom's case. Was this really life as a GIW agent? Was this really what he signed up for? Maybe he really should have become a cop like he originally trained for. But the Guys in White promised to help him find an identity, something he had been searching and trying to find for years. Their impressive display, that action and lightshow. It was what he thought he really wanted.
Was he missing something? Maybe it took longer to get those things, an identity and the excitement of field work. To be fair, he discovered so many things already laid out in ink that previous agents had authored before him. The desk work wasn't entirely useless. Just boring. There was so many facts that pointed to doubt. Agent G wasn't even claiming that Phantom was innocent! Just that there was reasonable doubt.
But of course...he was just a rookie.
He sat in the dark for a few moments before he finally stood up, and he got ready for bed. Tomorrow, he could hopefully get some answers. And he already knew how he was going to force his coworkers to listen.
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Thankfully the worst of the worst was over, leaving many what if thoughts to be put to rest. The surgery went well. Maddie nearly cried in relief when she finally properly saw her son post-stitched up. The swelling had reduced dramatically, and his jaw no longer looked distorted as it was secured back into place. His jaws were also wired shut. So unfortunately, the much needed conversation was still put on hold, and it would truly be put off to the side for a long time. But the important thing was that he saw safe. He made it through the surgery without shifting his form, and his secret was in tact.
She watched Danny as he slept peacefully. Jazz was curled up and sleeping on two chairs pressed to the wall. The teen had been so tired, she didn't even stir when Phantom was moved back to his room. Jack had been napping, but woke when Maddie was allowed to follow Phantom inside.
But now her husband sat next to her in the heavily dimmed lights of the hospital room. Maddie couldn't sleep. A pressing concern troubled her too much.
"Jack?"
Silence.
"Yeah?"
"...Are we bad parents?" Maddie's voice was barely audible. Afraid of the answer.
Jack didn't immediately swoop in with his reply, a blind assurance that they were not bad parents. That they couldn't have known. It wasn't their fault, that this was unpreventable.
"...We might be," came the grim confession. Maddie wiped an eye before tears could freely flow.
"He's afraid of me." Maddie was barely able to get it out. She kept her eyes on her baby. Tiny parts of her continued to die with every slap of reality.
Jack said nothing to correct or reassure her of something different. He stayed silent as they both let their situation sink in. Their son...was a ghost. Danny Phantom. Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom. Looking at that snow white hair, and how physically similar he was...how terrible were they to not have noticed.
"What do we do now?" Maddie had to know. She squeezed her husband's hand. "How can we ever...continue? How am I supposed to live knowing-"
"Do you really think he did all those terrible things?" Jack half-interrupted her. Maddie swallowed hard. She hadn't really thought about that. But now that she knew that Danny was fine, that he was safe and okay and right in front of her on a steady recovery path, her thoughts were drawn to an entirely new and frightening question: was her son evil?
Regardless of anything, that ghost boy was her son no matter what (wow, that was still a lot to process). But the ghost boy...his track record of criminal behavior was long, nearly endless. Attacking the mayor, all those robberies, summoning the ghost king, ruining Christmas, so many various miscellaneous things. This was so unlike Danny. Before high school, Danny had never had any troubles in school. Not grades, not behavioral. He was a model student in every way, and this sudden change, this very violent and destructive change, scared her.
A sick feeling came over her. When Danny died, maybe he...changed. Maybe this really wasn't her sweet little baby anymore. But did Danny die? He never answered her question.
"Jack, is Danny dead?" Maddie asked her husband quietly. Jack paled, and he shook his head no immediately.
"Jazz said he became half ghost during the portal accident," he explained. Danny was half-ghost? That was...a bit better than the idea of her son dying without her nor his father noticing, but it was still chilling.
"So he's not truly a ghost," Maddie said slowly. "So in theory, he shouldn't be evil." Jack looked thoughtful as he picked his words.
"But given everything he's supposedly done...Do you think?" Jack dared not say the thought aloud. Neither of them wanted to believe it.
Danny her spectral nemesis, who attacked a mayor and brought Amity Park into the Ghost Zone, who consistently caused perhaps millions in property damage and injuries from those who couldn't escape the scene, who robbed banks. Danny her baby boy who was skipping class, had begun to snap at her and talk back, who was failing classes and constantly coming home late from his curfew. Danny the ghost boy, who had been seen rescuing people from burning buildings and who saved a school bus from driving off a cliff, who helped catch criminals. Danny the youngest member of the Fenton family, who would cook dinner without asking if his parents were in the lab too long and encouraged them to take a break and eat, who never forgot a birthday and who stood up for his friends no matter what.
No matter what form he was taking, no matter how much she shot at him as Phantom or scolded him as Fenton, he never looked at her maliciously or with true rage. Frustration and teenage annoyance, but she had never looked into blue or green eyes that made he feel as if he was truly, at his very core, evil.
"No," she shook her head. "I don't think there's any possible way."
"So what do we do? What was all of that, all of the robberies and the attacks," Jack began, and Maddie just continued to shake her head. Her head was throbbing from a lack of sleep and emotional exhaustion.
"I don't know," she confessed. "There has to be some reason. Some explanation. But I don't know it, we'll have to…" she trailed off. Maddie closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. Sleep sounded wonderful right now. She felt Jack's lips press against her temple in a gentle kiss.
"Let's focus on going home," Jack finally suggested.
"What's the chances of us all going home?" she questioned. Jack didn't reply. The unspoken answer was very, very unlikely.
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alkhale · 5 years
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Ugh😭 I just need a little taste of the next nascent update
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(srry it’s been awhile, with finals finished i had some stuff going on at home and i work on the other stories in tandem with whatever chapter flows faster for me atm and there’s so much with memos i want to catch up on)
Raven levitated the steaming cup down into Pandora’s waiting hands.
She stared at the sleek cup, smoothed out and painted with fine black. Pandora gingerly moved her fingers around it as Raven took her seat, several spaces away from her, at ease. Silent. 
“That’s a really useful power,” Pandora said. “If I had something like that, I’d use it to do a bunch of things at once.”
“I’m constantly at battle with the forces behind it that try and overshadow me any moment,” Raven said.
Pandora took a sip of the herbal mixture, wondering if it was possible to drown yourself with a teacup. No, she wasn’t that dumb–the closest she could get was choking on it and hoping for the best from there.
“It has,” Raven said, taking a soft sip, “Its moments.”
She could hear the distant rumble of the city. There was a bit of a salty sort of tang in the air from the bay lapping around the secluded tower’s foothold. The breeze was chilly, nipping at her cheeks and at her legs. Pandora’s bun was starting to ache a bit from how tightly she’d pulled it together at the top of her head.
“Can I just,” Pandora stopped. She set the cup in her lap and then turned imploring eyes Raven’s way. “Can I just talk for a second?”
Raven took a long sip.
“You’re a mess,” Raven said flatly. “I’ve been blocking you out since you came out of his room. Your emotions aren’t exactly well contained.”
Pandora’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. She folded in on herself, hunching her shoulders and bowing her head. “S…Sorry, um, about that–”
“He’s the same,” Raven said without a hint of emotion. “It comes and goes. Like a whiplash. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Oh,” Pandora couldn’t help the flicker of curiosity. “Does it… Does it have a sort of look to it? Our auras and–”
“Even if I tell you not to talk,” Raven said, answering her earlier question and ignoring the present one, “You’ll talk. If it stops you from giving off any more emotions than you already do so I don’t have to increase my meditation while you’re here, then fine.”
Pandora bit her bottom lip.
Raven merely continued to drink from her tea cup.
“I just really wanted this weekend to be fun,” Pandora rushed out with a groan. The cup sloshed in her lap and she pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes. “The point of me coming was supposed to be fun. I–not that you guys aren’t fun with him–it really does seem like he’s just… just been having a great time here with all of you and he’s doing all this great stuff but–anyway, it’s just… It was supposed to be a little breather. For me, at least. I wanted it to be nice for him. I didn’t want to cause any trouble, I just wanted to spend time with my best friend and do all this great stuff but–”
Pandora groaned, louder. “But stuff just happens even when you can’t–things are always just out of our control–out of my control. I know his mom’s just doing this to mess with him, you know? She’s probably one of the most intelligent human beings on the planet and I mean, she’s Dam’s mom. With him it’s already this–” 
Pandora made a vague gesture with her hands, “It’s like this never ending chess game with him or something! Sometimes I feel like everything is a-a-a move or we’re always thinking around each other while thinking about each other and I’m worried that’s weird? Or it’s wrong? Isn’t that sneaky of me? Of him? Of us? I don’t even know! But he isn’t supposed to be thinking about her–I don’t have any rights to say anything but Dam’s beyond her now. He really is! He’s grown up and he’s kind–he’s so, so kind, and he’s always doing things so fully.”
Pandora made the motion of wrenching her heart out of her chest. “He doesn’t do things often but when he does he does it. Dam’s… He’s…”
“If you’re going to keep talking about him,” Raven said, “and not get anywhere, I’m going to go.”
“Sorry,” Pandora said. “He’s a great guy, you know?” Raven rolled her eyes. “You kinda remind me of a friend of mine back home– And, well, there’s something more to everything that’s been bothering him and I’m worried but then there are things I’m worried about to–”
“You’re talking in circles,” Raven said. “Make points. Address them.”
Pandora’s mouth opened, her jaw went slack, working for a second as she fumbled over her words.
“No,” Raven said, looking at Pandora in slow, absent realization. “You’re always like this, aren’t you? You just talk and work things out from there.”
“That’s what I’m always doing in my head,” Pandora admitted. “I think there’s a word for it.”
“Overthinking,” Raven said. “A mess.”
“Oh, well, yeah, that sounds right too….”
Pandora roughly rubbed at her hair, almost knocking her bun out of place.
“Perhaps,” Raven said. “You need to meditate.”
“Where do I start?” Pandora said miserably.
“What’s making you so miserable in the first place?” Raven said. “Why are you out here–with me?”
Pandora pressed her fingers to her lips before whispering, “My best friend is stressed out and I think looking at me just makes him more stressed out.”
Raven considered the energy thrumming several floors beneath them. “How do you know that?”
Pandora gestured limply to the doors that lead back inside behind them. “He’s been using his katana and his martial art skills non-stop in the training room.”
Raven raised a brow. “He’s always training here.”
“I know,” Pandora said, miserable. “But I asked Bart to pull up the feed. He’s cutting off their limbs or breaking their legs first.”
Raven stared, waiting.
“He only does that when he’s thinking really hard,” Pandora said, lips wobbling. “Otherwise he’d just cut their heads off.”
She filed that away for future reference. “I see. That’s… thoughtful.” Torturous.
“I think he does it because he’s imagining opening up whatever’s bothering him that easily,” Pandora said, shoving her face into her hands.
Raven took a small sip.
“Doesn’t that seem morbid to you?” That’s coming from me.
“A little but it’s Dam,” Pandora said into her hands.
She sighed. Raven waited, holding her cup in her hands and watching the slow ripples on the surface. Pandora turned her eyes forward, staring out at the beautiful city skyline flickering out across the bay.
“I feel so behind,” Pandora said quietly. “I know I’m naive and I try not to be naive, but I can’t help but end up falling back into it.”
“Naivety and optimism walk a fine line,” Raven said. “But they’re not always the same thing.”
“You’re not an idiot for wanting things to go well,” Pandora repeated.
“Wise words,” Raven said.
“A family friend I might be seeing soon,” Pandora credited. “He’s a larger than life kind of guy but… Mama says we’re alike sometimes. If I ever ended up becoming a heart-breaking flirt here and there.”
Pandora stared at the flickering lights.
Raven stilled for a moment. It was a flicker not unlike the lights across the bay from them. A moment. A thought. An emotion that wasn’t her own that bled out from the girl sitting beside her. And then it was gone.
“I wish I could play it all out,” Pandora said quietly. “Get my hands on the keys… It always… It always helps me think when I can’t seem to think about anything else.”
Raven tipped her head to the side. In all honesty, she’d rather be holed up back in her room right this moment opening up the new spell book she’d finally secured through several different means. But if it meant clearing up the ridiculous amount of energy flooding the tower, then she’d sacrifice the night.
“Perhaps,” Raven said. “We can work something around that.”
Pandora turned to her quickly, overturning the tea cup in her lap. Raven managed to stop it midair but the herbal mixture splashed out, spilling over Pandora’s legs.
“What do you have in mind–”
“Didn’t that hurt?” Raven said, staring at Pandora. “The tea was still warm.”
“Oh, no, it’s just a little warm,” Pandora said quickly. “Hardly any heat–I’ve had really hot tea thrown on me before, now, that stuff hurts–”
Raven regarded her in silence.
“I–you know, people–piano now?”
this other part:
“You don’t,” Raven said, dully, seriously, perhaps even with a touch of disgust, “Need to be jealous.”
Pandora looked ashamed for a moment over the top of the piano. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it–I mean, I promise it’s not like that or anything–or anything towards you! You’re honestly gorgeous and wonderful and really, really cool and I wish I could be a bit more like you–”
“Stop,” Raven said. “Now.”
“Sorry, that was weird. Didn’t mean to creep you out. I’ve been jealous a bit before? On different occasions for different people. I’m really jealous of my friend and how he can come up with original songs on the piano and I’m jealous of this one guy for how he’s always doing what he wants and how hard it is to figure him out sometimes–oh, and I really get jealous of how Dam never gets fat. It’s insane. It’s actually insane. I think it’s the genetics and–”
Raven opened the door with a soft glow of her power, a silent threat.
“I’m shutting up now. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Sor–” Pandora pressed her fist into her mouth, as though she were about to eat it.
“I’ve never been in such a conundrum with anyone before,” Pandora said, seeming a bit bewildered.
“You’ve never met anyone like me before,” Raven said flatly.
- I’ve always liked raven ever since the old teen titans and i think she can help this idiot
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wongiemei · 5 years
Text
iKON Reaction To A New Girl Member
Jinhwan:
I think Jinani would be a little concerned for the girl since she’s entering a boy group. He would try to talk to YG as the oldest and persuade him to think clearly because this is a REAL big change. iKONICS might get a little outraged and some might throw hate on the poor girl due to jealousy. But Yang is very clear that he wants the girl in the group.
When she arrives at the dorm, he would smile and try to make sure she’s comfortable. The girl would awkwardly sit on the couch and the older line would make small talk with her. It’s clear on her face that she’s very uncomfortable about the whole thing and doesn’t want to be in the situation. But here she is and Jinhwan would learn how to get used to it. He would definitely glare and scold the 2 maknaes if they are showing their displeasure because in the end of the day, she’s just another one of them who wants to live her dream. Being a girl is just the problem but she couldn’t help that. 
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Yunhyeong:
Ah, mama Song. Since we know he takes good care of the boys like their mother, he would definitely welcome the new member with open arms. But when he found out it was a girl, he would stop and be blank for a hot second before pulling a confused face. It would keep him up at night, thinking and worrying about her. Like Jinhwan, he has the same worries and concerns regarding this new addition, a female. The two oldest would talk late one night with a glass of wine and would make sure that they would treat the new member good. They both know that they were once like her and it would be wrong to treat her differently because when they were in her shoes, they were very desperate to debut and would take any chance. But he still isn’t sure about whether YG is making a mistake or not. 
However, once he sees her, he would be all over her. He would ask her if she’s hungry or if she’s thirsty. He learns she’s a 97-liner and he could see how scared and unhappy she was. She was scared because, hello, she’s debuting under a boy group and would probably get hate on and called a ‘whore’. She was unhappy because she was supposed to debut with BLACKPINK but she didn’t get along with Jennie. Yunhyeong constantly reassured her that the boys are here for her and will help her with anything. She can think of them as her brothers rather than just co-workers.
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Bobby:
Same with the other 2, he’s concerned and not very pissed off. But he’s still quite upset with the sudden addition and especially since she’s a girl. Jiwon has stated that he thinks too much of a problem and end up creating more problems and more problems after that. He would worry about iKON’s image and he would eventually think about the haters who would hate on the girl. He lost hours of sleep just thinking about the issue and he is not sure how things would go from here. He’s always seen iKON as a hip-hop boy group, not a co-ed. Jiwon would think it’s unfair that she gets an easy ride to debut when they all worked very hard to get where they are.
But once the girl enters the dorm, he would freeze up and just stare at her. Bobby’s known to be very awkward and he doesn’t really know what to do. Does he smile at her? Does he just remain stoic? The girl has to really initiate anything between her and Bobby because he sure isn’t going to do anything. I think he’d be very self-conscious with everything he does because he thinks it would be rude with a girl around and disrespectful. But really, Bobby isn’t really mad about the whole thing. As long as iKON continues to make music and she puts in her efforts, he doesn’t care who he’s working with.
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B.I:
Oof, he’s pissed. To be honest, I think he’d be a brat about it. Normally, Hanbin is a very nice person and very caring towards others that he puts them first before himself. But B.I, is very strict and very formal. Once YG told the group about it, he scoffed and just glared at the CEO, not really saying anything. The members were scared of B.I’s glare but the CEO disregarded it as his opposition about the whole idea. The boys looked at each other and knew that B.I was going to get rid of this girl one way or another. He’s very sensitive to things he doesn’t like and the sudden addition to the group would make him feel like iKON isn’t enough. Like he didn’t work hard enough for the group. But he also sees this as a challenge. To prove to YG that he can handle anything because he’s the great B.I. Honestly, the whole thing comes down with his pride. As a man, his pride gets easily hurt and he’s very upset and he’s going to make sure everyone knows it.
The moment that doorbell rung, he stands up with his arms crossed and staring, more like glaring, at the door. The girl is taken aback by the hateful gaze on her and she feels chills. Jinhwan pinches Hanbin and silently warns him to stop it. Once everyone gets seated on the couch, he introduces himself as, “I’m B.I. I’m here to make music so I don’t have time to dilly-dally around.” The boys roll their eyes because whaat Hanbin said was a complete lie to just make himself look tough. But the girl nervously gulps and stares at the floor, lips trembling and eyes shaking. That moment, the boys don’t see him as the Dumbin they have loved. They saw him as B.I who knows what he wants and will destroy anything to get it.
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DongDong:
This baby, I think, is the only who’s kinda excited. Donghyuck is a very bright and friendly person who loves to make new friends. Yes, he’s sometimes shy but his excitement for another member of his family overshadows that. Of course, he was very confused and blank about the whole thing but realizing that he was going to have a sister makes him so excited. Yes, he has a sister in real life but he doesn’t see her often but another sister who he was going to see all the time made him so happy. He would very thrilled to have another person in the group because he believes that it would give the group a fresher look. 
Dongdong was the one who opened the door and he shot her a smile before ushering her inside. The girl was clearly shaking and trembling so he wraps an arm around her, telling the guys she was here. He excitedly introduces himself and tells her that he’s looking forward to working with her. Out of the 7, he was the only one smiling at her and he blinked pointedly towards Bobby because Hanbin was glaring this girl down and Dongdong didn’t want this girl to be uncomfortable at just being here for less than an hour. I feel like the girl would trust Dongdong the most, even when the boys are comfortable with her, because to her, he’s always going to be that one person who accepted her when nobody did.
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Ju-Ne:
Well, this kid’s also a brat. He’s immature about this type of thing and he would question YG so hard until the CEO’s glare shuts him up. But to him, I feel like he doesn’t really like her due to how easy she got in, regardless her gender. Even if it was a boy, he would still act like this. The group is his everything and he knows that something will happen once YG announces her arrival. Like the rest, he’s more concerned about the future of the group and how she would impact the public’s view on them. Junhoe would be very protective of the group and he’d be damned if something would hurt it.
When she enters the dorm, he curls his lips and looks her up and down, trying to get a good read on her. Without him knowing, he would probably blurt out something so sarcastic that it would hurt her feelings. He wouldn’t really care about that at the moment because there in front of him, stood his future. You bet he’s going to be pointing out every wrong thing she’s doing like, ‘No, you’re not doing it right. Bend your knee more.’ ‘God, get on with the melody and the beat.’ ‘You sound like a dying duck.’
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Chanwoo:
He’s our baby fetus that isn’t really sure about girls yet. Boys his age would probably be experts but Chanwoo’s been training since he was young so he was still awkward around females because he hasn’t interacted with a lot. The news would hit him pretty hard because he’s still trying to fit in with the group and he doesn’t want another member to get used to. Of course, like every maknae, he’s scared that she would take his title and he would get less lines than now. Chanwoo isn’t happy and he will help his leader to get rid of this member.
As the girl introduces herself and makes her age known, Chanwoo becomes less upset. But that doesn’t mean he’s thrilled to have her, either. This boy wouldn’t say anything but just glare at her and make her as uncomfortable as possible. There will be a time that he would get used to her but not now. However, Chanwoo would slowly warm up to her because of her situation. Like her, he was thrusted into a group that already knew each other and had some members not like him. I think Chanwoo would slowly start to accept her because of how similar their situations are. Plus, that means another playmate and another person to prank. 
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hunnywrites · 5 years
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Sixteen Candles: Part One
Summary: It’s the day that Vivian has been looking forward to nearly her entire life: her sixteenth birthday. But between her sister’s wedding overshadowing her big day, and praying that her crush Billy Hargrove will finally notice her things aren’t going too well for her. If she can just survive the under the sea dance at her school and avoid the really weird and creepy Tommy H her night might be salvageable. Maybe. 
Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC
A/N: I’m cracking under the pressure and writing one of the 80′s teen movie inspired fics for Billy. I meant to get this up a few days ago on my birthday, but we all know I’m horrible with deadlines. This is gonna be a mini fic, probably around six chapters in total. And I’d say it’s an AU. I hope you all like it! We get to see more of Cheryl Burns from Arcade Dreams which I’m pretty excited about. 
Vivian’s house was chaotic on a good day. Weekday mornings went by in a tornado like blur as she and her older sister Carol got ready for school and her parents readied themselves for work. If it wasn’t Carol and Vivian arguing over who got to use the bathroom first, it was Vivian yelling at Carol for using up all of the hot water and borrowing her clothes without asking. Their mother had given up on cooking her family a big breakfast once both of the girls had started high school, and now the two sisters all hurried around the kitchen dodging each other while fixing themselves a bowl of cereal while their father practically choked down some dry toast and coffee. That was a normal morning. This week had been been anything but normal.
Vivian’s older sister Sarah was getting married in two days. The only catch was that Sarah her fiance Kevin lived in Florida. Which meant that all wedding planning was taken over by Vivian’s parents. Which meant that their household had gone from chaotic to nuclear war zone. The phone was constantly ringing. If it wasn’t a florist or a caterer or someone that was calling with questions about the wedding, it was Sarah calling nearly in tears over how scared she was that her wedding would be anything less than perfect. 
Tonight would be a slight reprieve though. Her parents were driving a few towns over to pick Sarah and Kevin up from the airport, and wouldn’t be back until the middle of the night. Their mother had absolutely forbidden them from taking any calls regarding the wedding. They’d been instructed to take a thorough message on the notepad their mother had left on the fridge and that was all. “I want homework done as soon as you get home. There’s leftovers in the fridge so no ordering pizza. I want you both in bed by ten and absolutely no friends over.” their mother had said. That last part had been mainly for Carol. She’d been known to throw a few impromptu get togethers anytime their parents were gone for the night.
Vivian never really minded. Even though she and Carol got along as well as two alley cats, Vivian always covered for her. Regardless of the fact that Carol’s boyfriend Tommy was an absolute weirdo and Vivian always spent most of the time hidden in her room to avoid him, there was one reason that she was so willing to look the other way when it came to Carol’s parties. Billy Hargrove. 
The crush Vivian had on him was absolutely shameless. Just like every other girl at her school, Vivian had it bad for Hawkins’ resident bad boy. They definitely weren’t close or anything. They barely interacted. If Vivian was ever brave enough to leave her room when Carol had friends over he might say hi or give her a nod in the halls at school if she could work up the nerve to say something to him. Of course Vivian had it all built up to much more in her mind. Countless times she had fantasized about saying a flirty hello to Billy in the hall, and that nod would be followed by him sauntering over, taking her in his arms and kissing her so hard she’d forget her own name. 
But there was one other thing getting in the way of Vivian’s fantasies ever becoming a reality ...aside from the obvious of course. Cheryl Burns. Cheryl was Billy’s pseudo girlfriend. They weren’t quite friends with benefits. They weren’t really even friends. But they both hung out in the same circle, they were both freakishly attractive and Billy was of course more than willing to pretend to be Cheryl’s date every once and awhile in exchange for...well, Vivian didn’t really like to think about what those two were most definitely doing. And it wasn’t like Vivian wasn’t attractive. She was just painfully shy and awkward. But those two things definitely didn’t work well with trying to get a boy’s attention. 
Which was why she was stuck up in her bedroom and watching down on Carol and her friends wistfully from her window. The usual crowd was there. Tommy H had brought a twelve pack of beer, Nicole had brought some guy along (Vivian was pretty sure his name was Curt), and Cheryl was placed delicately in Billy’s lap. It was still warm outside. The weather was somewhere between summer and fall, so Billy could comfortably lounge out by the pool in a pair of jeans a light blue button up shirt. Vivian wanted to rip the buttons off with her teeth.
She shook her head wildly to get the image out of her mind and reached for the pale yellow phone that sat next to her bed. She quickly dialed her best friend’s phone number, her leg bouncing nervously as she waited for her to pick up.
“Hey, Viv-”
“He’s here.” Vivan hissed, keeping her voice down as if somehow the group outside would hear her. 
“...Who’s there?” Robin asked. 
“Billy! Carol invited them over since my parents are off picking Sarah up.” Vivian explained, looking down once again at Billy who still had no idea she was even home. 
Robin sighed loudly on the other end. “Viv, I really don’t get this whole Billy thing. I mean aside from the obvious reasons. The guy’s a total douchebag. He’s like the douchiest of douchebags. And I’m pretty sure he uses more hair product than you do.” Vivian rolled her eyes at the joke.
“Okay, so he’s not exactly Prince Charming,” Vivian agreed. Robin let out a snort. “But he’s not that bad. I mean he’s like mysterious. Dangerous.” she explained. Try as she might, Vivian had never really been able to explain the appeal of the whole bad boy type to Robin. She always just looked at her like she was speaking some foreign language. 
“Can you even hear yourself?” Robin laughed.
“Oh shut up,” Vivian said with a sigh. “Robin, this is the worst. He’s in my backyard and I’m up here like some sort of peeping tom.”
“I gotta be honest, Viv. That’s pretty pathetic.” she teased.
“I know.” why couldn’t she just go downstairs and talk to him? He was just a boy. Vivian told herself it was because she didn’t want to hear Carol bitching at her that she was trying to scare her friends away or she didn’t want to deal with Tommy and his flirting with her (if you could really even call it flirting). But she was a chicken with a capital C. I’m totally gonna die alone, she thought with a groan.
“Look,” Robin began with a serious tone. “He’s right downstairs. He’s not dating Cheryl. You should just go ask him out. Bite the bullet. I mean, it’s not like you’ll die if he says no or whatever.” it had always driven Vivian crazy how Robin could have such a casual attitude towards everything. She didn’t think there was a thing out there that could scare Robin. Well, except maybe one thing. 
Vivian crossed her arms. “I’ll ask Billy out the day that you ask Tammy Thompson out.” 
Robin was silent for a moment and Vivian could practically hear Robin rolling her eyes dramatically. “...Touche,” was all she said. “Listen, I’m changing the subject now. What do you wanna do tomorrow?” 
Tomorrow was Vivian’s sixteenth birthday. Something she had been looking forward to practically her entire life. A girl’s sixteenth birthday was a big deal. A right of passage. She’d finally be able to drive. Initially she had a whole plan laid out. Her entire day had been scheduled from morning until night. But then Sarah called to announce that Kevin had proposed. And then they decided they’d be getting married the day after Vivian’s birthday.
Then there was the under the sea dance at school. Hawkins High was trying to put a fun spin on their homecoming dance or something. It had been announced on the school’s morning announcements about a week ago. And Vivian had no intention of going. She and Robin never had any interest in those sorts of things. Carol definitely would, but Vivian wasn’t exactly bummed out over the idea of her sister missing out on any birthday plans she had. 
It just so happened that Kevin’s parents would be flying in on the night of Vivian’s birthday, as well as her grandparents. So her parents gave her and Carol a choice; either go to the dance or have dinner with Kevin and his parents at Enzos. Vivian decided the dance would be the lesser of two evils. 
“Ugh, I don’t even know anymore. Maybe we can catch a movie or something? I think Red Dawn is still out. Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey.” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. They probably wouldn’t have to stay at the dance long. Carol wouldn’t rat Vivian out for ditching solely on the principle of Vivian constantly covering for her. And it was better than spending the night trying to explain to her grandpa how the new TV worked for hours on end.
“I do love me some Swayze,” Robin joked. Vivian let out a snort. “If that’s what you wanna do, birthday girl, then that’s the plan. Listen, I gotta go finish some biology homework. Try to stop stalking Billy, okay?”
“I’m not stalking,” Vivian argued before sighing. “...I’ll try my best. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
“You know it. Later, dork.”
Vivan smiled and rolled her eyes. “Later, dweeb.” 
She could still hear the sound of Carol and her friends hanging out by the pool, so Vivian decided it would probably be safe to head down to the kitchen. She could see from the top of the stairs that the small light above the stove was on, but she assumed Carol had left it on so she and her friends could see to get in and out of the house. She definitely wasn’t expecting to see Billy rummaging through the fridge. 
Vivian stopped short in the doorway and let out a small  “Oh.” when she saw him. There was a brief moment when she was deciding whether to go back upstairs or not, but before she could decide, Billy spotted her. 
He did somewhat of a double take when he saw her. Almost like he was making sure he wasn’t just imagining seeing someone in the doorway. He flashed a slow, easy smile her way and Vivian nearly gulped. “Hey, Viv.” nearly everyone she knew called her Viv. And yet somehow no one else managed to give her that tingly feeling that shot up her spine like Billy could whenever he said her name. Robin was right, she really was pathetic. 
“Hey…” she shifted awkwardly, not moving from her spot in the doorway. Say something you idiot, she scolded herself. You’re alone with Billy Hargrove in your fucking kitchen. Say something! 
Thankfully he beat her to the punch. “Nice shirt.” He said, nodding to the oversized Tank shirt she was planning on wearing to bed. The three headed hellhound that adorned her shirt was almost looking up at her judgmentally. 
“Hmm? Oh! Thanks! Yeah, uh my dad took me to see them a few years ago as a Christmas present.” she’d definitely gotten her taste in music from her dad. Back in the day he’d followed the Grateful Dead whenever they toured and he joked that he had the Kiss logo tattooed on his ass. Vivian kinda didn’t believe that one though. There was no way her mom would marry anyone with a tattoo of anything on their ass. 
Billy raised his eyebrows and let out a chuckle. “Your old man is definitely cooler than mine,” he pulled out a can of Coke and held it up in offering to Vivian. She gladly took it and mumbled out a thanks before taking a long sip. Billy watched her quietly for a moment before nodding his head towards the patio. “How come you’re not out there with everyone else?” 
Vivian rolled her eyes in a way that she hoped came off as casual. “Carol always says I’m trying to steal her friends or whatever.” she said with a shrug. That was the nice version. “Don’t think that you’re cool by association just because you’re my sister. You’re definitely not.” Carol had said once after Vivian asked if she could tag along to some house party Carol had been invited to. So Vivian gave up trying to hang out with Carol after that. Tommy and Carol would give her a ride to school and a ride home and that was about the extent of the relationship. 
“Yeah,” Billy said. “She can definitely be a bitch when she feels like it.” 
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Vivian said with a snort. She bit her lip when Billy let out a small laugh. This was it. This was her chance. There wasn’t anyone else around. She should just ask him to the dance. Robin was right, what was the worst that could happen? “So um...are you going to the dance tomorrow night?” she asked, trying to keep her voice sounding as calm and  casual as possible. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that she was sure Billy could probably hear it. 
He made a face. “Probably. I’m pretty sure Cheryl’s gonna drag me along,” he rolled his eyes. Vivian’s heart dropped down into her stomach. Of course he was going with Cheryl. She would never miss an opportunity to flash off whatever sort of relationship they had. Cheryl would never pass up on making the other girls from school jealous. It was what she lived for. “What about you?” 
Vivian was so shocked he asked that she almost didn’t respond. She cleared her throat loudly before giving a small shrug. “Yeah. It’s either that or a rehearsal dinner for my sister’s wedding,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean, you’d think they’d let me skip out on both since it’s my birthday and all…” 
“Oh yeah? Well, happy early birthday. One year closer to the sweet release of death.” Vivian felt her cheeks grow hot at the way Billy grinned at the snort she let out. She was grateful that the kitchen was dark and he couldn’t see how red her face probably was. 
“Thanks...um, I have homework I gotta finish up so I should…” she jabbed a thumb in the direction of the stairs. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
Billy nodded, a faint smirk on his lips. “Sounds like it. Later, Viv.” 
Vivian let out a sort of quiet, strangled, nervous laugh before turning around and all but bounding up the stairs. She sighed loudly once her door was closed behind her. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” she scolded herself. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” She repeated in a mocking tone. She threw herself dramatically down onto her bed. 
If Billy thought Vivian was a total loser after that interaction he’d been gracious enough to hide it from her. So much for small miracles, she guessed. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach that later when Billy was driving Cheryl home he would bring up Vivian’s pathetic attempt to ask him out. The thought of them laughing at her made Vivian let out a loud groan. 
At least tomorrow was her birthday. She would wake up to the smell of the blueberry pancakes her mother always made for her birthday, her dad would crack his “boy, you sure are getting over the hill, huh, sweet pea?” Joke he cracked every year, and when she came home for school it would be time to open presents before Sarah, Kevin and her parents headed off to meet Kevin’s parents. If she focused on that then her run in with Billy didn’t seem so bad. 
Only that’s not exactly what ended up happening. Vivian woke up to a morning that wasn’t quite as chaotic as usual. It was so quiet that Vivian felt like something might be wrong. She’d almost wondered for a second if somehow she’d woken up late. There were no pancakes. No birthday jokes. Instead her father was running around an otherwise quiet house like a headless chicken. “Has anyone seen my briefcase?!” he called, poking his head into each and every room he walked by. He barely passed a glance in Vivian’s direction. Weird, but Vivian was willing to accept that he was just distracted. 
Her mother was in the kitchen with Sarah and Kevin. “...Morning.” Vivian said wearily as she walked in. Sarah was the only one that looked up. 
“God, Vivian what did you do to your hair?” Sarah gasped. Vivian frowned, reaching up to touch her red hair. “Who let you cut it? You’re a bridesmaid!” her sister’s face was growing more and more red by the second.  “We’ll have to put it up. This is completely unacceptable. Mom, did you approve of this?” Kevin  didn’t even bother to look up from his newspaper. Which was typical of him. He practically wouldn’t speak unless Sarah told him it was okay. 
Vivian’s mother rolled her eyes. “It looks fine, Sarah. Leave it. Vivian, do you want toast?” 
Vivian blinked a few times, wondering if maybe she was just dreaming. Or maybe they were trying to pull some sort of prank on her. “Um...no. I’ll get cereal I guess if there aren’t pancakes…” she said, looking carefully at her mother.
Her mom let out a snort. “Not unless you’re making them. Okay, I have to get going. You’ll get a ride with Carol?” she asked, turning to look at Vivian. She could only nod. “Sarah, you have to meet with the florist in an hour. I’ll be home at five.” she shot Sarah a pointed look before walking out. 
Vivian opened and closed her mouth a few times. 
“Jesus, what crawled up your ass?” Carol asked with a dramatic eye roll as she walked into the kitchen. She looked at Vivian’s pajamas and scoffed. “And will you get dressed? Tommy will be here soon and I’m not waiting for you. If you’re not ready by the time he gets here you’re taking the bus with all the other dorks.” 
Vivian looked at her sisters. Carol was shooting her a dirty look while Sarah looked at Vivian and her hair with a nearly disgusted look. She silently spun around, heading up to her room, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.
“I don’t believe this...they fucking forgot my birthday.”
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meowloudly15 · 5 years
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Stranded: Day 2 - GREEN MONSTER
I'm really sorry I didn't have this chapter ready for you guys sooner. Hopefully next chapter will be on time, but I can't make any promises anymore.
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Gwen lay in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar building in an unfamiliar dimension, staring at the dark ceiling. At least she felt safe here, safer than she did in the jail cell or on the rooftop.
Though she hated to admit it, Gwen was looking forward to school tomorrow. Her life would be back to normal, at least in some aspects.
ATOMIC DISJUNCTION
Gwen sighed and shut her eyes as a painful spasm passed through her.
She was lucky to not have a roommate due to being a "transfer student". She was also lucky to have successfully stolen toiletries and a notebook from a nearby Walblue's.
IMPENDING MORAL CRISIS
Gwen rolled her eyes. Having a conscience and a sense of responsibility and duty sucked. It was times like this when she wished she wasn't a superheroine.
What would have happened if she wasn't one? What would her life be like?
It would have been a lot more boring, that was for sure. She would probably have done better in her classes (that was a big if, knowing how little she cared about schoolwork before taking up the mantle), and she might have been more popular, considering that she would have had more free time to socialise.
It sucked that she couldn't attend some of her band practices due to patrolling the city. While the rest of the band was okay with her absences, Em Jay was not.
Em Jay had been getting on Gwen's nerves as of late. She really wasn't that great of a person. Gwen supposed that knowledge came both from getting to know her better and from not constantly hanging out with a guy who would compliment her at every opportunity.
She sighed resignedly. Peter had snuck back into her mind. She really didn't like to think about him; she wished she had never met him. But then again, had she not met him… so much would be different, enough so that it was impossible to say quite what.
Without conscious awareness, Gwen dipped into her memories of Peter.
One Friday night, Gwen decided to don her nearly-new Spider-Woman costume and go out web-swinging. She had planned to stop by the park where Em Jay and her band were playing that night, just for kicks. She had told Peter about her plans, hoping to maybe meet him there and knowing that he would probably be interested even if only for the sake of seeing Em Jay.
Gwen had only possessed her web-shooters for the previous two weeks, and while she had practiced as frequently as possible, she was far from being adept. However, she had only crashed into two streetlights, clipped the side of four buildings, and almost hit one car, which meant that she was improving.
Improvement was key.
Gwen reached the park and perched atop a nearby gazebo, scanning the crowd for her friend. She soon spotted him hanging around near the stage. However, several people also spotted her.
"Holy cow, how'd that guy get up on that gazebo?"
"Hey, I think my mom almost hit that girl with her car the other day!"
"What's a gazebo?"
"Why's he wearing both a hood and a mask?"
"Oh my GOD it has weird EYES this is UNREAL!"
Eventually, almost all of the crowd, including the band, was looking her way, pointing, taking pictures. Gwen grimaced, thankful for the mask.
Peter stepped up onto the stage amid the confusion, grabbing the mic. Gwen saw him do so, although most of the crowd was too focused on her to notice.
She wondered what on earth he was up to. Peter normally hated speaking in front of crowds, although she did see that his eyes were firmly screwed shut.
All of a sudden, Gwen heard a loud voice yell through her mind, "GREEN MONSTER". She slapped her hand to the back of her head.
Peter yelled into the mic, "HEY!"
The crowd quieted down and looked at him.
Peter, wearing an uncharacteristically solemn frown, started to speak. "I want you all to understand what I'm doing and why I'm about to do it."
The crowd was stunned into silence. Even Em Jay and the other members of Jackpot were too flabbergasted to move.
The voice in Gwen's head kept repeating over and over, "GREEN MONSTER".
Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. Jealousy was the green-eyed monster. But why was Peter jealous?
Peter reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small vial full of an acidic green liquid. The crowd gasped and collectively took a few steps backward. A few people in the rear turned and fled.
"Don't worry, this isn't a bomb," Peter tried to joke, but his flat affect belied any amount of humour which his words might have held. The crowd did not look reassured.
"This vial holds an untested serum, originally researched by Ozcorp but perfected by yours truly, which is intended to bestow upon the consumer superhuman abilities. In a few minutes, I'm going to drink it."
"No! Don't do it!" yelled someone from the middle of the crowd.
The corners of Peter's mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. "Ah, but I haven't told you my reasoning yet."
Gwen leaned in closer, a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach growing to match the itching at the nape of her neck.
"You know," Peter began, "I've been overshadowed as of late. I've been overshadowed by somebody whom I know and whom I've been helping out and whom I'm close to. She was courteous enough to join us tonight."
Peter extended the hand with the vial in the direction of Gwen, who didn't move.
"She was recently granted superpowers, you know, like Captain America. I helped her out. I put in hours of free time that I didn't have towards helping her, towards giving her gear and helping her practice her powers. And how does she thank me? She doesn't. She shoves me aside like she shoves everybody else aside. She only cares about herself! And she left me in the dust, no thanks, no gratitude, nothing!
"This girl, 'Spider-Woman', thinks she's so special. But you know what? She's not. She's just a little girl. Just a kid with a dorky Halloween costume. She doesn't think I'm special. Nobody thinks I'm special. But you know what? I'm gonna be special in just a minute. I'm gonna drink this, and I'm gonna be special, just like her. More special, even. You'll see. You'll all see."
Peter uncorked the vial and tossed the cap away. He then looked at Gwen, his eyes boring into hers. "You know what?" he said, more quietly than he had been speaking before. "I idolised you. I wanted to be like you. And then I realised how horrible of a person you are. I wanna be you, but better. I'm GONNA be you, but better."
He raised the vial to his lips.
Peter's words had cut Gwen to the bone. She reacted too slowly, shooting a webline that yanked back an emptied vial.
Gwen yelled, "NO!"
Peter smirked. "Don't try and stop me."
Somebody had had the bright idea to call 911. A few police cruisers showed up at the park. Police officers jumped out of their cars and rushed over to the scene.
The crowd started to panic, but nothing happened.
Peter frowned, anxiously running a hand through his short brown hair. "I don't know how long it was supposed to take bef-"
He interrupted his own statement with an earsplitting scream.
GREEN MONSTER
The crowd finally lost control and fled the scene as Peter's skin started to morph. His body stretched like Silly Putty caught in invisible hands. Gwen yelped in horror, transfixed by the grotesque train wreck that was his transformation.
Peter shrieked again, but it wasn't a human shriek. It was a screech worthy of the Cretaceous Park movies. His clothes tore open as green scales started sprouting all over his body. His hand, which was now twice its normal size and bore razor-sharp talons, crushed the puny microphone like a twig.
Peter had become a lizard-like monstrosity. He roared one last time and charged at the police officers, who took shelter behind their cruisers and opened fire. Gwen had half a mind to stop them, but when their bullets started bouncing harmlessly off of Peter's scales, she decided to wait and watch for the time being.
As soon as Peter decapitated the first officer, Gwen knew that she needed to do something, so she shot a webline at him and pulled him off balance. Peter snarled, then redirected his attention towards her.
"Oh boy," she muttered as Peter charged at her, his giant tail lashing behind him. She leaped out of the way as he smashed through the gazebo, sending shards of wood flying everywhere. As she landed, Gwen turned and started rapidly firing webshots at Peter, covering him with semisolid webbing. He tore through the webbing as if it were paper, then charged again.
Gwen leaped into the air and landed on Peter's back. It looked like she would have to physically subdue him. But how exactly did one stop a rampaging lizard-beast?
Gwen noticed that the police officers were holding their fire, apparently waiting for her to get out of the way.
"Kid!" one cop yelled through a megaphone. "What are you doing?"
"Don't worry, I got this!" Gwen yelled back, wrapping her arms around Peter's neck in a chokehold.
She was lying through her teeth. She had no idea what she was doing.
Peter thrashed around, trying to free himself from this pesky insect, but Gwen held on tightly. His startled roars started to weaken and change into whines. His thrashing grew ever more frantic, and he eventually managed to grab Gwen's right leg and start pulling on it. Gwen yelled and shifted her grip so that she could hold Peter's neck with only one arm. With her free hand, she started striking Peter's claws, desperately trying to extract them from her lacerated leg.
Peter decided to try a different tactic. He let go of Gwen's leg and backed up into a large oak tree, smashing Gwen between him and it. He kept striking it repeatedly until Gwen was too bruised and beaten to hold onto him any longer. She dropped like a stone as the tree finally uprooted.
Gwen came to her senses a few seconds later, just in time to see Peter charging at the line of police officers, who were futilely shooting at him. "Call the SWAT!" she heard one of them yell. The outburst was followed by several jarring screams of pain.
She had to stop Peter before he killed them all.
Loud chatter from a group of girls passing through the hall outside Gwen's room snapped out of her reverie.
She missed Peter. She missed the poor guy with all her heart.
Reminiscing about him wouldn't help anything.
It was better to just forget, to stop thinking about him, to move on.
Gwen wished she didn't have to move on. But she did. She had to push aside her feelings, bottle them up out of harm's way, because they were only going to get in the way. They were only going to stop her from being Spider-Woman.
She couldn't risk losing anyone else.
Gwen shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. There was no time to worry.
She thought back to her earlier mental debate on what would have happened if she hadn't become Spider-Woman, and she recalled how in this universe at least, Peter had been bitten by the irradiated spider.
What had happened to this universe's Gwen Stacy?
Was she alive? Was she dead? Was she a monster? Had she even existed in the first place?
Gwen was filled with a sudden compulsion to know. She wanted to know what the other her was like, what her family was like, how her father had fared, all of that.
But that wasn't something she should worry about right now.
Gwen lifted her phone from the bedside table (she had also stolen a charging cord from Walblue's) and checked the time. It was 10:40 pm. She ought to hit the sack. Tomorrow was a school day.
Gwen set down her phone and drifted off to sleep.
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