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missluckycharms · 3 years

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What about nobody knows their secretly dating, but they’re always flirting. So one day all of their Friends are at a club and y/n gets on the dance floor and starts twerking and Harry comes up behind her and starts grinding and tapping her ass and all there friends are whistling.

This Little Secret Of Ours.

A/N: hiii! I made this into a best friends brother! Harry blurb and I also changed a few things. I hope you don’t mind! Enjoyyy !!

**I will be getting around to all your requests in the next few days, please be patient !! Thank you !! **

Warnings: suggestive content, mature language, alcohol consumption, Harry is a cheeky lil shit.

It started when Y/N was nineteen and Harry was turning twenty one. It was never meant to happen, but what could she do? She was attracted to him, and he was to her.

They have a connection that you cannot look past no matter how hard it would be for them to be together, they needed to make it work.

And they did, they’ve hid it from everyone for nearly two years now. No one even suspects the pair is together, they never leave anyone have any suspicion on if they might be together. They even go as far as having some little fake argument just to keep up the “we hate one another” image in front of all of their friends — Y/N’s best friend being in that friend group, Harry’s sister.

The only way that this works between the two, is because Harry has his own flat, he bought it recently and Y/N as basically moved in, she’s rarely at her shared flat with her other best friend — always saying she was visiting family for days at a time, but she was really hiding out in Harry’s small one bedroom studio apartment together, cuddled up under blankets away from the world.

Every Friday their friend group has a tradition: they all meet up at the local night club and catch up on their lives, talk about their week, have some drinks and just have fun. As they’re older, their lives are getting more hectic and they have less time together, so this little meet up each week gives them the chance to feel like teens again.

Today is like every other Friday, Y/N is in Harry’s getting ready, the pair fighting over the one bathroom, Harry running in ahead of her for a shower as she “takes too long” and she “has to shave her bits and bobs!” And it “takes for ages!” Y/N always fires back with her usual response: “you’ve long hair too! You don’t see me complaining when you take ten years to apply your hair masks and then give two washes of it all!”

That small argument happened nearly an hour ago, Harry laughed back and slammed the bathroom door in her face as she stands in only his bath robe, her towels in hand along with a new packet of razors she picked up on her way over here. She rolls her eyes and huffs turning around to head back into his bedroom.

“Might want to give it twenty minutes m’love, I used up all the hot water” Harry says calmly, walking out of the steamy bathroom in only a towel slung around his waist and another towel drying the ends of his long curls. Y/N looks up from her phone, her eyes narrow as they only have three hours to get to the club.

“This is why I go first!” She yells out, flopping down onto the bed in annoyance at her boyfriend who’s laughing while running some curl cream through his wet locks, his eyes focused on himself in the mirror.

“Gives you twenty minutes to have some Harry time!” He says wiping the residue of curl cream into his towel, his smile wide as she looks at him from where she’s laying on his bed, her lips in a pout and her brows furrowed in anger.

“I had plenty of Harry time this week, you were like a kid! Barely got any time to even pee!” She yells as Harry just laughs at her angry self, loving how cute she looks when her lips pout and her eyes roll with her pretty eyelashes framing them. He adores her, all of her.

The twenty minutes is spent by Y/N being tickled by Harry as she yelled and laughed loudly while he teased her for being ticklish, her body squirming on the bed as he hovered above her with his fingers tickling her ribcage causing her to loose control of her whole body and melt into a puddle of flailing limbs and loud screeches. Harry eventually let up his tickling, allowing Y/N to finally shower and start to get ready. He’s currently sat on his bed, ready to go in his black and white silk button up, black skinny jeans and some black leather boots. Y/N is currently curling her hair and applying some makeup as she stands in her outfit: a simple black silk dress with black heels.

“Look so beautiful m’heart, love the sparkly straps on your shoes” he points out when she’s finally ready, Harry sliding his phone into his back pocket to get a closer look at his girl, his hands snaked around her waist as he pulls back to rake his eyes up and down her body carefully, his lip between his teeth as he observes her.

“Thank you H, you don’t look too bad yourself. New shirt?” She asks reaching up and tugging on the collar a little, only three buttons done up on the whole shirt leaving his tattooed chest to show through with his many necklaces — what was more eye catching was how sheer the fabric was, allowing his butterfly and other tattoos to be visible when light is shined onto him.

“Bought it last week, more sheer than I thought but hey, who doesn’t want a front row seat to the nipple show? Huh?” He asks shaking his chest at Y/N, her eyes rolling as she slaps his chest playfully as he pulls her in for a kiss.

“Can’t kiss you until we’re back here, which won’t be for like, God knows how many hours” He mumbles against her lips as they kiss one another passionately and slowly, their hands roaming one another’s bodies as they take in every detail of each other.

“You always take me into the bathroom for a quick fuck or a make out session, don’t act like you don’t do that” she fires back with a tug to his bottom lip with her own teeth, a groans escaping his chest at her action, his hands squeezing her ass a little as he pulls her more into him.

“Keep talking like that and we aren’t going anywhere baby” he says lowly, his tongue licking over her bottom lip as she smiles against his lips, her hands roaming his chest, then his stomach and then down to his crotch, giving him a tight squeeze when she feels how hard he’s getting, Harry lets out an involuntary moan at the feeling, his hips pushing into her palm as she licks over his bottom lip slowly as she goes.

“Come on big boy, we have somewhere to be” she says pulling away, fixing her dress and wiping her lipgloss from Harry’s lips, her eyes looking at him innocently as if she didn’t just tease him and get him hard two seconds ago. He groans as she grabs her handbag, throwing a wink over her shoulder at him as she trots towards the front door of the apartment.

“You coming?”

“Unfortunately no” he says sighing, looking down at his erection in his tight skinny jeans, Y/N rolling her eyes at what he means.

“Harry, get out into the cab” she says tapping her foot against the floors, her phone buzzing with messages from the Uber driver that he’s outside and not waiting any longer than five minutes.

“Fine” he sighs, grabbing his house keys and sulking his way towards the cab, Y/N apologising for the delay and Harry just pouting like a toddler beside her as they head off to their night out with all their friends.

—

The night has gone smoothly, Harry and Y/N sitting at opposite ends of the table they’re all sharing in the booth, their eyes catching one another’s every few minutes but their slight eye fucking flies under the radar due to how dull it is in the club. Their friends are chatting, laughing and singing as they all sip their drinks and talk about nonsense, Y/N being dragged into conversation about how her job as a florist is going by her best friend Jada, while Harry is dragged into a conversation by their friend Chase about nonsense due to his drunken state — Chase loves to pre drink and now he’s drunk as fuck.

Harry is nodding and smiling along to Chase’s words, his fingers fiddling with his beer coaster in boredom, all he wants to do is have drunken chats with Y/N about nonsense like they usually do when they drink at Harry’s place, the pair having a bottle of wine each as they dish out random facts and stories from their childhoods and Harry’s one year long college experience — he dropped out because he couldn’t handle not being around Y/N, she was too far away from him and plus, his dorm mate was a nightmare.

He’s brought out of his small daydream of half listening to Chase while also mumbling along to the words of the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the packed nightclub, by his phone buzzing in his back pocket, he takes it out and keeps it under the table on his lap, looking down to see a notification from Y/N. He doesn’t look up as he opens it, his eyes widen at what the message says.

Y/N: mind if I shake my ass on the dance floor?

Harry: don’t you dare, your ass is mine and mine only. Don’t think about it baby love.

He looks up to see her looking at him, her lip between her teeth as she locks her phone, him mirroring their actions as they stop their small conversation. Her eyes are dark with lust, a tug pulling at the corners of her lips as she leans over to whisper into Jada’s ear. Harry watches her like a hawk, legs spread under the table, arms crossed over his chest and his head thrown back against the wall of the booth as he narrows his eyes at his girlfriend, her own challenging smile getting thrown back right at him.

Jada is the first to move, then Lola and then Y/N, leaving Harry at the other side being sandwiched between Chase and Niall, Niall is currently on the phone trying to speak to his landlord about a busted pipe in his house, but instead of going outside he insists to stay in here, he has a massive fear of missing out. That’s Niall for you. Harry watches Y/N like a hawk, his eyes never leaving her body as she holds onto both Jada and Lola’s hands, their smiles wide and they mouth along to the words of the song,

Her eyes are on him every now and then, her hips swaying as she dances with her friends, others around them dancing aswell as Harry doesn’t take his eyes off his girl on the floor, the lights flashing about and illuminating her every now and then as she moves to the beat of the song.

Harry’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees her bend over and begin to shake her hips, causing her ass to jiggle about as Lola and Jada spur her on, slapping her ass a little as she laughs loudly, looking over to Harry who’s now stalking his way to the dance floor, pushing past the crowd of people. Jada nearly slaps Harry when he picks Y/N up by her waist, flinging her over his shoulder as she laughs loudly, Harry shaking her head as barely anyone on the floor recognises what’s happening due to how dark it is, Jada and Lola following hot on Harry’s heels as he carries their best friend like a sack of potatoes back to the booth.

“What was that for?!” Jada yells slapping her brothers chest and bicep, her brows furrowed in anger as Harry now holds Y/N close to him his hands around her waist as they both look at Jada with small smiles.

“She was showing off what’s mine” Harry says with a smile, looking down at Y/N who scrunches up her nose with laughter, pecking his lips lightly as they both finally get to show love to another in public, in front of everyone.

“I knew it!” Niall yells nearly falling over the table, Chase whistling and clapping as he nearly passes out due to how much he’s moving right now.

“Only because I told you!” Lola fires at Niall who rolls his eyes looking at them all, Jada stood beside the pair not knowing what to say.

“We all had a feeling, we were just waiting for you both to say something; there’s only so many times we’ll believe your bra just some how ended up in Harry’s car” Jada says rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/N burying her face in Harrys chest in embarrassment over the story.

Jada hugs the two, immediately running up to order a round of shots in celebration of the new couple — well, not that new, but now they’re officially together in the eyes of everyone else. They couldn’t be happier and they couldn’t be more grateful that Jada didn’t lose her shit.

“Guess this little secret of ours is out, huh?” He whispers to her, her smile wide as she looks up at him with her arms slung around his neck holding him close.

“I guess so, boyfriend”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #asks open #anon ask #answered asks #ask box

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sevngmin · 5 years

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college!seungmin

ok so

my friend made a thread(im not able to link it as her account is private) of skz as students at my college

and then i saw another thread of skz as college students

so here i am

major: law

club: photography

used to shoot his pictures on his dslr in auto mode until he joined the photography club,,, which fellow member hyunjin scolded him for

let’s be honest,, seungmin is that one boy in your major that everyone has a crush on

(you’d better be lying if you said you never have had an eye candy/crush on him before)

he came to school once with his hair up and every girl in his class wanted to set the school on fire bc that’s not the content they signed up for

and has his hair up more often,,,

not in a bad way tho bc he takes pride in dressing up for school sometimes and when people praise him for it he gets a lil blushy and goes (*^▽^*) thankuuu!!!!

if you’re in a project group w him you’re in luck bc seungmin always is super nice to his teammates and offers to lunch over work

(and also has his hair up for presentations,,, double oof)

sPeaking about presentations there was once he was looking especially fine while presenting about criminal law

and people were sneakily snapping pics of him

poor boy got so blushy he stuttered so much :(

honestly too nice to mark people down for peer evaluation but when they’re blatantly not doing work he’d not hesitate to give them a zero

you’d wouldn’t want to see him angry too esp when he hardly gets mad

meanwhile, you on the other hand,,, not so much

you have had your fair share of shitty teammates and you couldn't take it anymore

like,, have you been too nice to people for them to tell you to “just chill” when you get mad???? for legitimate reasons???

you just don’t get it

anyway

you and seungmin are friends bc he was your classmate since freshman year

and is the only one who you are somewhat familiar with in this year’s class

tbh you never really saw seungmin as someone more bc you two are kinda close and after you know him he gets kinda dorky its cute

like yeeeeeaaaaa sometimes you inevitably have the teeny tiny crush on seungmin but its no biggie

you guys are like close?? but not rlly bc seungmin has his own group of friends and you have your own

you are close with hyunjin but that's only bc y’all are on the dance team and besides, he’s in another major

seungmin always sits beside you in classes people think you’re his gf or sumn

but the people in the same class knows y’all are not bc you were the only one who snorted(too loudly) when seungmin knocked his head on the table while falling asleep in a tutorial

all the girls wanted to murder your ass for it tbh

seungmin is kind of your therapist in a way in which he lunches with you often and listens to your rants

be it about the iced chocolate in the cafeteria being watered down too much or standing on the crowded morning bus

seungmin is always that listening ear no matter what

quote hyunjin; “you should start charging her for listening to her rant about the school’s budget for the tenth time this semester”

also you; “i should start charging you for constantly making me stay back to watch you go over that same routine and song over and over again after practice.”

touché

moving on

honestly you weren’t looking forward to this year’s class bc the people in class r rlly gossipy and known for talking shit about others

but i mean,, you’re in school to get that degree,,, and not deal w shitty people right

WRONG

when the tutor assigned groups for a group project you were thanking the high heavens that seungmin was in your team

and as the team leader

so that no free-riders go to your team

it’s the week of submissions and there’s this member that kept giving excuses for not doing her part in the group report

and hence you had to do it because her parts were closely linked to yours and without her parts, you couldn't start on yours

seungmin had to help out too bc he feels obligated to as the team leader

and also feels bad??? bc he knows how you’ve been dealing w shitty people and now its another one

you honestly just want better people tbh

so like you just really couldn’t take it and went up to her face during lesson and said,

“hey if you’re not doing work i’m asking seungmin to boot you out bc you’re not doing your work”

nd she had the audacity to say,

“i did my work???? wdym”

aka write her name on the cover page

(and even spelt it wrong smh)

you rolled your eyes and huffed,

“i’m telling seungmin to boot you out, find another team.”

she just laughs maniacally which scares you, until she regains her composure and goes

“what? has sucking seungmin’s dick gotten to your pea brain?”

(that was so crude im sorry)

and she said it so loud the rest of your classmates could hear and started murmuring amongst themselves

you were appalled at her words, speechless as you could feel your blood boiling

“i must be right huh,” she scoffs, turning her attention back to her phone, “sucking up to the pretty boy to get good grades, how low.”

you really wanted to slap the living life out of her

before you could do so, seungmin slammed his hand on the table, shocking everyone

“you’re the one to speak, who did nothing but to put her name on the cover page of the report, and to the point of spelling it wrong,” seungmin seethed, which made you honestly scared of him

he stood up with his laptop and cancelled her name in front of her eyes, then pushing you behind him, “as of now, you are not part of our group. if i ever hear you bothering any of my groupmates, i will not hesitate to report this to the course head. i hope i made myself clear enough.”

you could see the fear in everyone’s eyes, as it was the first time that they saw him genuinely get really really mad at someone

the girl ran out of class crying, as you slumped in your seat, mind still unable to wrap around how she was so rude to you, hands visibly shaking

“are you okay?” seungmin asked, eyes now dripped with worry, contrary to his anger-filled eyes just moments ago

“yeah, i guess.” you bit your lip, opening up your laptop, “thanks, for standing up for me.”

“a frown doesn’t look good on you,” seungmin commented, “just smile now, hmm? it’s all over, and you don’t have to deal with her again.”

you look over at seungmin, whose brown eyes were still staring at you

you gulped, crimson tinting your cheeks as you looked away and faked a smile,

“yeah yeah, thank you for saving me, prince seungmin.” you teased to hide the blush on your cheeks

and weirdly after this incident seungmin has been kinda protective over you???

like offering to drive you to school

eating lunch with you more often

offering to drive you back home

basically sticking to you the whole time in school

not that you were complaining, seungmin has even been more affectionate?? kinda

sending you good morning and goodnight texts

smiling more often around you and laughing at your lame jokes,,, when normally he would just stone at them

to the point when your friends started asking if you and seungmin were dating,,, bc he just stuck by you almost every breathing second you’re out of your house

you had to keep telling them no until one day,,,,,, you confronted seungmin

as soon as you got into seungmin’s car, you asked,

“why are you doing this?”

“doing what?” seungmin laughs, stopping at a red light

“this.” you deadpanned, “driving me to school, driving me back, being so close to me, everything. we’re not dating or in a relationship either, so why?”

seungmin turned to you, looks at you dead in the eye and presses a kiss to your forehead, which brings heat to your cheeks

“you’re awfully dense for a law student, aren’t you?” he smiles, diverting his attention back on the road, “if that didn’t make it obvious already, that i like you.”

“h-how can you say that so casually?” you stuttered, burying your cheeks in your hands, “that’s not sincere enough.”

seungmin stops at another red light, then presses a kiss to your lips, and you were pretty sure your cheeks were hot enough to cook eggs on them

“is that better?” seungmin bit his lip, obviously shy at what he just did skskskskskskks

and you do say yes

cute

when he tries to be smooth and all but his face just gives his inner emotions away

you turn up in school holding seungmin’s hands from then on

and all the girls cried for a week straight

#stray kids scenarios #i'll add in the links in a separate post bc the tags wont work if i add them in #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids fluff #kim seungmin #stray kids seungmin #seungmin scenarios #seungmin fluff #seungmin imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #college!au #college!skz

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dontyoudarejudgemesworld · 4 years

Text

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far: Chapter Seven: New Things

Hey y'all I hope your well. So sorry that it's been a minute but as we all know the world is in chaos. I am currently the only one in my house working and trying to support three others who are high risk. Due to that I've been massively stressed out and busy. Still I finally managed to get this together to go up.

As always you can find it here on AO3

Hope you all enjoy it. Be safe out there and take care of yourselves and others.

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“...and next ladies and gentlemen we have a creature so rare…so illusive that only the truest explorers have seen it. I give you the Cucuk-ig,” Billie said with a flamboyant flourish at a hog with wings carefully attached to its back, “Now I know that it may seem too good to be true but I assure you I personally brought this specimen back from the deepest bowls of the Amazon,” she told the tour she led leaning towards them as though imparting some great secret, “You see most people believe that the phrase ‘when pigs fly’ was coined to refer to something impossible. But it actually comes from the people of the Bulspita region where these creatures live. You see the phrase actually refers to early July when these amazing creatures migrate to their breeding grounds. The natives coined the phrase in reference to their harvest season which aligns with their migration,” she said her voice carrying the tone of a scholar looking around at the rubes a few of which looked skeptical, “Now of course when I heard the locals claims of flying pigs I scoffed but a native man offered to take me to see them. And so we embarked on a four week trek into the deepest groves of the Amazon. It was slow going as we cut through undergrowth so thick….,” she said launching into a story of grand adventure.

Dipper couldn’t help but think she looked like she had walked out of the jungle; heavy tan cargos were slung low on her hips, a black tank top hugged her form under an unzipped grey green cargo vest, and worn heat boots served at the basis for her persona. Fingerless black gloves and a red bandanna tied loosely around her neck sold the Laura Croft vibe along with her heavy black curls spilling in a wild mess about her face and shoulders. He noticed that her southern drawl had changed into a smooth English clip lending to the mysterious adventurer role. Dipper knew that to be roped into Stan's show you had to have a costume and he was kind of jealous of hers, it was a far cry better then gluing dog hair to yourself and dancing for money.

“Man she is really good at this,” Dipper observed from the counter where he leaned next to Wendy, “Like she kinda puts Stan to shame.”

“Oh yeah man,” Wendy said as they watched tourist eat up the black haired woman’s words leaning in as she spoke, "The stuff she shows up with is actually pretty cool, and she comes up with stories that could totally be a comic book. She’s like one of the coolest people I know. I mean I know that she's a total sham like Stan but sometimes I wonder if she really does go off on super cool adventures like some kind of Iowa Jane. Even my Dad thinks she's a bad ass."

"Really?" he said as he watched the for group scramble at shove money at her as she touted only $5 to get their picture taken with the pig. More then a few asked her to pose with them which she did gladly flashing winning smiles and peace signs for the camera. Watching her he couldn't help but think she looked like he though the author would; adventurous, daring, and brave.

"Hey...so I was thinking. You know how Billie has six fingers, " He stared causing Wendy to raise a brow her eyes shooting over to him.

"Yeah dude but she's kinda sky about it so maybe not..., " she offered quickly and he held up his hands shaking his head.

"No, no! Listen, " He said quickly, "The Journal has a six fingered left hand on the front. She has six fingers on her left hand, " He said and she shot up from her slouch on the counter to stare at him.

"Dude! Do you think she's the author!?! " Wendy asked her eyes wide and eager as they shot over to Billie who was now telling the eager crowd about the mermaid Stan had, "She totally could be. I mean she's a PI but who knows what she's actually investigating. It would totally make since."

"Well that's what I thought but Mabel pointed out that the book is super old. So Soos thinks she might be the authors daughter, " He told her bouncing in excitement at the redhead's sudden enthusiasm, "Mabel found out that her Dad grew up with Stan, but he died when she was young. The Journal Author said he hid it because he was in danger. What if her Dad was the Author and she came here looking for answers...for the Journals?" he said his own excitement bubbling up as he shared his theory with his favorite person.

"Whoa..., " she said looking down at him, "We have to ask her! She could be the key to figuring it out! "

"No, I mean not yet, " he said quickly, "I mean what if she's not? I think we should do some investigation first. I mean look at Gideon. He got a hold of one of them and went nuts. And the shape shifter...well you we're there. I think we should be careful here, " he said glancing over at the woman.

"Well, I mean I know Billie and she's pretty cool. She helped Tambry and I out... " Wendy started.

"What’re you two over here conspirin’ ‘bout ? " Billie's voice broke in causing both of them to jump. She seemed to have dropped the fake english accent her heavy drawl replacing it as she eyed both of them a lazy half smile pulling at her lips.

"Nothing! " they said in unison causing Billie's lips to twist in amusement as she cocked a brow. Eyeing them let let out a hum of disbelief.

"Yeah, y’all look as innocent as a fox in the hen house, " she drawled, "I'ma go pick up some burgers at Greasy's y’all want anything?” she asked as she leaned against the counter.

“Heck yeah. Double cheese burger please,” Wendy said with a laugh. With a nod Billie turned her emerald eyes on Dipper who stood staring up at her with red ears.

“What ‘bout you Bud?” she asked cocking a brow and he blushed even deeper as one hand came up to scratch the back of his neck. Just like his Grunkle, and her if she was honest. Must run in the family, she supposed.

“Uhhhh, sure. Thank,” he said as he shook himself slightly looking down to his feet before glancing up at her sheepishly, “Want me to come along to help?” he asked and she blinked in suprise. She seemed to hesitate as he waited anxiously; if he went with her maybe he could ask her some questions. After a minute she rolled a shoulder and gave a nervious smile.

“Sure, an extra pair ah hands never hurts,” she replied after a second and was rewarded with a beaming smile, “Well, get a move on. I aint waitin’ all day,” she said as she spun and headed out to the door to the El Diablo. Dipper looked at Wendy who widened her eyes and looked after Billie.

“Go dude,” she said and he scampered out the door after her. Clamering into the car he quickly pulled the seat belt on an watched as she slid into the front seat and started the car. Pulling out of the drive way she headed towards town. Glancing in the rear view mirror at the kid in the back seat. He was fidgeting as he stared at her from under the brim of his hat. A heavy silence filled the car as both of them seemed to think of something to say. After a few tense moments Billie cleared her throat.

“So…Stan says you like weird stuff,” she said breaking the silence and he let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah,” he said looking up at her in the rear view mirror, “The stuff around here is crazy. You said you’ve seen the gnomes, right? On our first day they decided to kidnap Mabel and make her their queen. When she said no they tried to kidnap her. Did you know that they can stack themselves into a giant mecha gnome?” he asked and she rolled her eyes and left out a huff of laughter.

“No, I didn’t,” she told him, “I know they’re nasty little varmints that’ll try an steal anything not nailed down. I like the ‘lil campfires that scuttle ‘round the woods, though,” she told him and his ears perked up.

“I haven’t seen those,” he said eagerly, “Do you think you could show me one. I’d like to add it to the jor…letters I’m writing home,” he caught himself his voice cracking. She cocked a brow at his stumble over his words but decided to leave it be.

“Sure, there’s one that seems ta hang out in the woods behind the Shack. I give it marshmallows every time I come visit so he’ll usually show up if I shake a bag an’ whistle,” she told him, “You’ll ‘ave ta show me some o’ the weird stuff you’ve found. We just wont tell Stan since he likes ta pretend that ‘weird’ ain’t a thing,” she said and he let out an uncomfortable laugh.

“Yeah, it took me raising a hoard of zombies to get him to admit it,” he said causing Billie’s eyes to fly open wide and her head to jerk back to look at him.

“What?!” she said before remembering that she was driving, “That’s…alarmin’ on a few levels kid,” she told him and he turned red as he scrunched down to hide in his vest causing her to wince, “I mean zombies being real and all,” she said quickly even though she had to wonder how the hell he had managed to raise the dead.

“Oh yeah, but you can cure the it with paint thinner and cinnamon,” he said and she had to bite her cheeks not to say anything, “We fixed Soos up after and he’s fine,” he added as she pulled up to Greasy’s. Turning around she handed Dipper a hand full of bills.

“I called Susan already. Go grab the food,” she told him, “And try not to summon any zombies on your way,” she told him and he grinned as he nodded hopping out. Watching him go she shook her head, she was going to have to ask Stan about the zombie thing. And figure out how in the hell he knew how to summon zombies, that didn’t seem safe for a 12 year old to be doing as a past time. Great more homework. Maybe she should just do full investigations on the whole damned family and save herself some time.

~*~

Billie sat on Wendy’s hide out one leg dangling over the edge head resting in her hand as she stared at her lap top. She was reading Filbrick Pine’s service record. And man was it a read, apparently Grandpa was a bad ass who’d served honorably kicking some serious Nazi ass in WW2. While she had Stanley’s life pretty well plotted out from 18 and beyond, that didn’t help her figure out why his whole family had erased him. To understand that she needed to understand her family, which meant learning the in and outs of it. And what she was finding was slowly paint a picture of dysfunction that made her feel slightly less out of place.

Idly she pushed the thick glasses up her nose. It was late and she had changed into her basket ball shorts and t-shirt after the kids had gone to bed, and her contacts had been bugging her. Normally she hated wearing the stupid coke bottle lenses but she was blind as a bat without them. Sticking her pen between her lips she chewed on it lightly in between jotting down notes in the book beside her. So far she had pieced together that Filbrick had served front lines for most of the war, and done it stoically. He’d been one of the first ones on sight of three concentration camp liberalizations, and his psych eval.s suggested that he had repressed most of the trauma from such service. Though he met much of the criteria for PTSD as laid down by the APA.

Depending on the severity of it he would have…her eyes snapped open as she jerked up. She’d been dozing, it was late and a day spent hustling for Stan was more tiring then one might think. Sighing she set the laptop aside and brought the cigarette in her fingers to her lips taking a long drag the cherry flaring to illuminate the bright blue paper of the barrel of it. Cracking her neck she looked out over the yard and out into the trees. A heavy mist had descended around them obscuring the shapes below; changing them into shifting twisting shadows. The horrors of her subconscious just waiting to rise up and consume her if she let them. Good thing Lucid dreaming was a thing; if it wasn’t she’d probably be a full blown alcoholic instead of just a functioning one.

“Well, well, well, you’re new,” came a voice from behind her that sent shivers down her spine. It was soft yet reverberated around her and one that she didn’t recognize. She knew her demons and this wasn’t one of the. Taking another drag she held the cigarette up and cocked her head watching the smoke curling up and away into the stars that spiraled lazily above them.

“So are you,” she said after a moment with out turning. A chilling laugh came from behind her as the demon moved circling her. She didn’t look up to follow it’s progress but she saw it; a yellow pyramid with a giant eye. The dapper little bow tie and top hat added a touch that was both sinister and comical.

“Hmmmm, you don’t fit,” he said as he stopped in front of her, “A real Wild Card. Nice hand, I love freaks,” he laughed and she finally looked up at him cocking a brow he lips twisting in boredom.

“Huh, guess I’m running out of imagination. I’d think my subconscious would be able to come up with new material,” she sighed rolling her eyes, “So what are you? New form of self loathing? Manifestation of trauma? Representation of budding Body Dysmorphic Disorder? she asked and he laughed as he looked down at the mist and the figures that swarmed there.

“As delightful as that stew of crazy is I’m not part of it,” he laughed floating lazily around her, “No, I’m something so much more,” he assured her stopping hover over the pages of her notebook and looking down at them, “Looking for Pine Family secrets, huh? I could help you know,” he laughed as he raised his hand and the pages exploded to float around them, “I know things, lots of things,” he added his voice distorting to a deeper growl as his body began flashing a million images at once, some she recognized and a lot more she didn’t, “I could help you you know. Infinite knowledge and all it takes is a hand shake,” he said his hand bursting into blue flames as he offered it to her. She stared at him her face expressionless except for a single brow twitching as the pages swirled around them each displaying a picture of her family moving in mute memories.

“Okay enough of that,” she said snapping her fingers the pages returning to a normal notebook causing Bill’s eye to widen slightly as she looked up at him a vicious kind of smile pulling at her lips, “Look here Bill. This is my dream. I don’t know what you are but I don’t make deals without knowing the stakes. So whatever you are you can leave. My whole job is finding out secrets and I don’t need no help. So crawl back under what ever walk you came from. I’m waking up now,” she told him snapping her fingers again.

Billie jerked awake finding the stars over her fixed in their proper places. Shaking herself she sat up and looked down at her notebook the pages fluttering in the light summer breeze of the night. There in the corner of the page was a simple doodle of a triangle with a top hat.

“Well that’s new,” she said looking down at the lines.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gf au #au gravity falls #lost pines daughter #ao3 #bill cipher #billie pine #Stanley Pines #stan pines #dipper pines #pines family #pines family bonding #they should really create a list system to save a group of hashtags so I dont have to spend twenty minutes trying to remember them all #mabel pines #wendy corduroy

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boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

A Girl Walks Into A Bar 4

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Word Count: 5000+

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. Bella and Declan go out to a show downtown, there’s booze and music and a playful ambiance between them. They both open up and share a little about themselves in an attempt to make a new connection. They keep surprising each other as the night goes on, but Bella takes home the trophy for the most surprising action taken yet.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Drinking. Fighting. Unwelcome guy getting handsy and mouthy.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, scuffing your black leather mid-calf combat style boots.

"Too much? Not enough?" you turn to your cat Robert who is watching you and swishing his tail from the bed. You turn and present yourself to him. "I don't wanna show to much, but I haven't been able to dress up and show off in so long."

You make an excuse to the peekaboos of your torso that were showing through your destroyed vintage Motorhead t-shirt. It showed your sternum and stomach tattoos and your black bra underneath in slices and holes through the thin and aged fabric. "I've not shown the girls off in so long I'd forgotten what size bra to buy. Well, that or I've put on some weight." you huff out a laugh and adjust your new, surprisingly sized C cup bra. Maybe it was the chest days you'd been having more of with your workouts, either way, you weren't complaining.

You sigh and scratch Robbie's head at his indifference as he purrs at your manicured maroon nails that matched your toes and your lips. "You don't care do ya lil dude?" you smile down at him as he rubs against the texture of your fishnets under the holes, frays and distressing in your light wash jeans. You fuss with your hair some more, picking Robert's mixed color fur off your shirt. You're picking your chest length, almost black wavy, messy hair out of your fake lashes, grumbling about the choice to wear them. You jump at the sound of your doorbell, almost poking yourself in the eye and swearing. You shoo Robbie out of the room and shut the door behind you.

Your worn in boots move silently across the wooden floor and southwestern style rug in your living room to your front door. You peep through the hole you'd had installed, couldn't be too safe, and see Declan with wide eyes, messing with his long hair the same as you had been yours just moments ago. You undo the multiple hard locks screwed into your door. He waits and tries to figure out how to greet you as he hears the heavy metal clicking on the other side of the door.

"It's just like any other hang out." he mumbles to himself, hands shoved into the pockets of his thick leather and fur jacket, his jewelry clinking as he moved, boots crunching against the salted concrete towards your door. "It's not a date, bro, chill." he whispers, nodding his head and staring at your door. "You're just hanging out with a friend. A...new friend. Who happens to be the only girl you've done something with in...jesus..." he rolls his eyes and groans as he pushes the doorbell. How long had it been since he'd been on a date? Wait, this wasn't a date, he shakes his head and lowers his brow. He was just getting out of the house with someone who needed the same. Just so happened you were cool and cute, that shouldn't complicate things so much and make him feel this nervous.

"Hey, Declan." you say with a friendly smile, your arm resting on the door as you make eye contact with him. You certainly didn't appear to be nervous.

He hesitates for a moment, being surprised by your appearance. He stops himself from looking at anything but your face, but with its dark eyes and lips, surrounded by styled hair he was struck by how pretty you were. He thought you were pretty before, intense eyes, strong jaw and naturally pouty lips that were unfortunately usually set in a scowl. But now you looked even more intimidating with your smokey eyes and long lashes, the friendliness on your face offsetting the severe decoration of it and he found himself with a new appreciation for it.

"Hey, Bella." he says with a softer tone than he meant to speak, with a nod of greeting your way.

"C'mon in I gotta turn off the lights and everything." you say with a wave of your hand, letting him shut the door behind him. You move around your space, setting things up out of Robbie's way, placing his favorite planter in the window, as he liked to wait for you to return from the perch. You fill his bowl and switch off the light, making your way back to Declan, unaware of the set of dark eyes that had been watching you move the whole time.

As soon as you turn around, it's like he's drawn to look at your body while he has the chance. Get it out of his system while he can. It would be hard not to notice the way the high waisted stretch denim was painted onto your thick, strong legs and ass as you bent over to pour food into the cat's dish. The thin fabric of the old t-shirt clung loosely to you, he could make out the blurred shaped of tattoos on your upper arm and back, but couldn't make out any of them, only getting shifting windows of your skin and bra underneath as you moved. You lean over, cleavage pressing together, shown through the slices of the shirt as his nose twitches in consideration of seeing you as a sexual being.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, looking at the floor as you layer on your gray zip-up hoodie and leather jacket. "It's still fucking freezing outside I take it?" you say with a smirk as you zip up your soft layer.

"Oh yeah, it's super shitty." he chuckles, his face downward but his eyes shifting up to meet yours.

"Good thing you're driving then." you grin, shoving your phone into your pockets. "Won't have to wait outside the venue though. So that's good." you say, switching off the final lamp in the hallway. You grab your wallet off the table by the door, attaching the chain to it you hadn't used in years. You didn't like carrying purses and when in a tight space in the city, you didn't want someone stealing something out of your pockets so the relic from your teenage years was a reasonable option.

"Oh damn a wallet chain?" he laughs, shoulders moving with it.

"Yeah. Years of hanging out with metalheads." you shrug. "Old habits die hard I guess." you nod and purse your lips. "Why? You want to talk shit?" you grin and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Psh, no." he says, showing you his hip where a chain rested in the pocket of his jeans, pushing his heavy shearling lined brown leather coat back from his torso, covered in a lived in Sabbath shirt.

"It's a reasonable thing to wear when you don't have a purse isn't it?" you say enthusiastically. He can tell you're relieved he wasn't picking on you for it and it found it rather endearing. "Don't want anyone stealing it, don't wanna have to keep up with it."

"Plus a chain y'know. Good accessory for bad asses don't you think?"

You nod and laugh. "Unfortunately also for bratty mall rats with nothing really to rebel against." you say with a look of reluctant acceptance.

"And which of those groups did you belong to?" he teases as you open the door and he walks out. He feels a weak shove to his back and a quiet snort from you that makes him grin.

"I like to think a little of both. Only retrospect though y'know?" you say as you turn to put your keys into the pocket inside your coat. "But if you'd asked me when I was 16 I would've punched you for suggesting anything other than badass." you roll your eyes as you make your way down the big step and follow him by his side to his truck.

"Looks like you ended up living up to it though." he says, nudging your arm with his elbow. You look up at him, a warm and friendly smile on his annoyingly handsome face, half obscured by the large shearling covered collar and lapels on the coat.

"I'll take it." you say with a lighthearted, lip pouted nod.

He opens the truck door for you, which was another rarity in men as the years went on you'd found. He takes his coat off before he tosses it at you in the benched truck seat.

"Hard to drive with that big thing on." he says, shaking his arms before he took the key to the ignition.

"Damn this thing is heavy." you laugh, folding it and laying it between the two of you.

"Warm as hell though."

"This is another one I might steal from you." you say, running your fingers across the worn and supple leather.

"Ah, ya like it? Thanks. I've had it for years. I like yours too. By the way." he glances over to you as he pulls out of the driveway.

"Thanks. I've had it for years too. The only good leather jacket is one you've had for years." you say with certainty.

"Same for shirts too I take it?" he smirks.

"I know you aren't talkin' shit about my shirt now, son." your voice raising and a smile on your face as you give him a look.

The fact that you called him son made his body shift with laughter. A woman over a foot shorter than him, talking to him like she could kick his ass. But then again, who knows, maybe you could?

------

Parking is as much of a hassle as it ever is in the city, but you find a garage and walk the short blocks to the venue, surrounded by young people with beanies and glasses they didn't need to see, sipping their IPA's and arguing over album supremacy. You walk down the stairs to the door, hidden on a lower level with an unassuming door blocked from the street and covered by a severely weathered awning. As you enter the hallway, the smell of sweat and stale beer hits you, exactly how a venue should be in your eyes. You turn back to take Declan's hand.

"It gets a bit tight in here sometimes," you say, lacing your fingers into his and he's happy you don't seem hesitant to touch him. "Don't wanna lose you, so just keep close and follow me, I know the right hallways to move down." you explain. As soon as you make it through the small, entryway with the old intricately tiled floor the sound of music hits him. "They've got Zeppelin on tonight. Mark must be working." you laugh, even though you know Declan doesn't know who that is. "I work with at the studio sometimes. He plays drums. He's a fucking wizard on 'em." your voice raises as the volume of the music does, moving down the crowded dimly red hallway.

"Hey, Doug." you say the bouncer who gives you a polite enough nod as you pass with a raised hand. "Mark over the house tonight?"

"You hear the music don't you?" he smirks.

"I do." you smile widely, tugging Declan along behind you. The bald man doesn't pay Declan any mind, which he appreciates, he knows he looks like he's trouble. He guesses if they know you here, they knew you wouldn't bring in any trouble with you. "Mark really loves Zeppelin, which means he might play only that until the show. Lucky us." you say with a quick spin in his direction and a flip of your hair. He noticed the bounce in your step immediately. A much more approachable expression stays on your face as you mouth words and your head starts to bob, soon followed by shifting shoulders and swaying hips. He watches you with amusement, finding that it must be music that really makes you happy, as he's never seen you look so relaxed.

You squeeze through a few hallways with bathrooms and offices with frosted glass in the doors of the old building on the way to the open space of the bar and stage. The room must've been an old theatre he believes. A long bar against the left wall, arcade machines and pool to the right, a drop off of a few steps onto a floor in front of a raised stage with old gilded columns and ceiling that would almost go unnoticed in the darkness. Differently gelled lights color the stage in reds and blue's, basic laser lights move across the bodies shifting on the floor, shouts and the muffled murmurs of so many shouted conversations over the sound of the music hit his ears and he feels taken back to younger years he used to go to these sorts of places every weekend. He'd been looking for trouble back then, or rather trouble always found him no matter where he went, but he felt a certain confidence that he wasn't doing that anymore. He'd made the choice to leave that life behind after it tried to take everything away from him.

He turns his attention and thoughts back to you as you walk backward to the bar, both your hands now holding his. "What ya wanna drink?" you shout, pulling him against the bar with you after squeezing into a spot and using your hips to make room for him next to you.

"Depends. How long we gonna be here?"

"Long enough for you to get a little tipsy with me then switch to water." you say with a grin. "Start with something hard then we'll go to beer then finish off with something sobering. How 'bout it?" you ask as you lean over the bar to seek out a bartender.

"Sounds good. Whiskey?"

"Whiskey." you give an affirming nod. "Mallory!" you shout out a bartender. He's endeared towards you and the fact that you seem to know the people who work here. Showed you were a humble person to remember the names of people who didn't own the place.

"Hey!" she says cheerfully, reaching across the bar as you give a one-armed hug to each other. "Haven't seen you in a while!" she says, wiping her hands on a towel. "What ya drinkin'?" she asks before looking over to Declan "This tall drink of water?" she laughs, nodding her head towards him.

"This is Declan." you laugh, patting his stomach. "Declan, Mallory."

"How's it goin'?" he asks, leaning in to be heard.

"This one yours?" she asks with a suggestive smile.

"I mean, he's with me here tonight," you say and chuckle. "Give me two whiskeys." you say, changing the subject of conversation.

"Comin' up." she calls out. "You be good to her, alright? Or she'll kill you." she laughs and moves down the bar.

"You have quite the reputation Bella." he says, both of you leaning on the bartop with your elbows, the crowded bar forcing your bodies together.

"I've been coming here for years," you say with a shake of your head. "I know Mallory from high school." you explain. "I've been here in the off hours, helping set up the stage and work with the sound tech's and what not."

"So you don't just work in the studio?"

"That's my job, yeah. What I get paid for." you elaborate. "But I love live music too. I love the culture of it all, the bars and the bands. I don't want to just do one thing y'know? So when I went to support friends and help them set up, I started asking questions, learning about the tech setups and what not, started helping the staff and the roadies and everything."

You look from the shifting stage lights back to him. "You're really passionate about music aren't you? Just...in general I mean."

"Yeah. It's always been important, but I decided to make it a career and now it's my life pretty much." you say with expressive eyes that almost read as innocent. He was pleased to see the happiness in your face as you talked about something with passion, he felt like he was really starting to get to know you as a person, breaking throught the hard outer layer you kept. After a brief break in conversation, you see thoughts running behind his eyes. "What about you? What are you passionate about?" you ask, leaning in closer, finding the conversation deep for the environment it was taking place in.

He considers his answer. For so many years revenge, vengeance, justice would've been knee-jerk reactions to the question. But with the passing of his own revenge on the one man he'd focused it on for so long, he found himself having to figure out where his life went from there. "People?" he says with a tilt of his head. "I mean...I'm from a really rough neighborhood. I grew up watching all sorts of terrible shit go down, cops and violence and everything." his eyes narrow and he looks down at the bar, you saw a depth to them as they opened up to you that you liked. "So I guess...I like helping people now. I used to be out for myself but...time made me realize there's more than just me in the world." he nods, his voice loud but soft in its delivery, a thoughtfulness to the words he chose. "So I try to take care of the place and the people that need it now. I've got the bar for people so they don't get in trouble anywhere else, that was my first step. Tried to create a safe space for people that found trouble anywhere else they went."

"For people with resting bitch faces and bad tempers like me?" you give him a smile to lighten the mood, the last thing you wanted was him to be somber while out with you.

"Yeah, for outcasts and bad attitudes no one takes the time to understand the source of." his smile softens, and you felt like he might actually see through you for a moment.

"You're a good dude Declan. I don't know why you're wasting your time with me." you say with a shrug.

"Because you say things like that." he chuckles. "Bad people don't say things like that, Bella. You're not a bad person. Just got a mean face like me." he says giving you an exaggerated smile.

"Drinks!" Mallory announces, sliding the glasses towards you. You give her your card and she slides it through the reader on the iPad in her apron. "Thank you and thank you." she says with a lilt. "Ya'll look good together, by the way." she says giving you a wink and a grin before spinning and moving back to the other barked orders from your side of the bar.

He expected you to blush or be shy, but he should've known better. You didn't seem like the bashful type. "I mean...we do look good." you say with a straight face before you let out a loud laugh and sigh before taking a drink.

"We're two good lookin' people." he says with an enthusiastic nod of agreement and it makes you chuckle in your glass. Yeah, this dude was alright. --- You're two drinks in, to his one and you're feeling great. Zeppelin is playing over the speakers and you're in your happy place, you leave him at the table you'd manage to snag by vulturing over the edges of the show floor. As it always does when you drink, the music moves your body and you don't even realize it. Although you are slightly dancing your way to the bar on purpose.

"Three bottles of Guinness." you tell Mallory with a flip of your hair. Declan watches you from the table, tall enough to see over the crowd to keep an eye on you. He sees you greet a few people, and only the women with hugs, he notices. The bass in D'yer Maker moves your hips and shoulders as you move through the crowd he has to admit he likes the sight. You lean over the bar to shout at your friend and he clears his throat as your hips sway to and fro. You turn around to wait, eyes looking out into the crowd, shoulders swaying and mouthing the words, unzipping your hoodie as you let your eyes shut for a moment and take in the bass from the speakers.

He sees you holding the bottles, giving a head nod, reading your lips saying "Fuck yeah." as Houses of the Holy starts. He laughs under his breath at the cute expression on your face with your tongue slightly poking out from in approval. You hold the bottles up high, making your way through, down the stairs, raising your layers off your midsection and giving him a peek to the true span of your bodies movement, in a very appealing waist to hip ratio. As you approach the table you don't stop singing the words the closer you get and you see the laughter across his face. You wrinkle your nose and move your body with more visible purpose and no subtly before you hand one of the bottles off to him.

"I'm gonna have to listen to Physical Graffiti when I get home tonight." you muse, head bobbing still.

"This on that album?"

"Have you not listened to it?!" you say with wide eyes.

"No! No I have, but I don't know every song that's one every album off the top of my head."

"Ah. I was afraid I'd have to get a cab home." you laugh and take a drink.

"You'd think this would've been on the album that has the same name, y'know?" he says, leaning in with a lower brow to drive his point home.

"It was written for that album actually." you say, putting your leg up in your chair and leaning across the table. "But Atlantic thought it was too similar to other songs." you take a quick drink, he can tell the information stored in that attractive head of yours must've been massive with the way you could pull out facts like you were a musical game of Trivial Pursuit. "An album with Dancing Days AND House of the Holy would've been amazing. I can see why they'd think Dancing Days was a better fit for the time period...better fit overall for the album too really. But Houses of the Holy is so eclectic it'd be hard to have something out of place on it." you continue speaking with your hands. "You've got everything from reggae to ballads to some fifties style Spector kinda vibes. It's a major creative force." you conclude, your face finally moving back to his and focusing.

"Are Led Zeppelin your favorite?" he asks, an almost teasing look on his face.

"I mean..." you blink rapidly, realizing you might've been boring him, talking too much about the music as was easy for you to do when you got comfortable. "Possibly yeah," you say with a huff of a laugh. "Am I talking about them too much?" you ask with a low dip in your voice and a quirked brow.

"No, no." he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You just know a lot about them."

"Yeah. Comes with the territory. Gotta know about music." you say with a more pleasant expression.

"You definitely do." he smiles and you mirror the expression with a slow blink unintentionally. "I can see why you went into it. You're clearly passionate about it. It's nice to see."

"To see what?" you ask, leaning in closer to him.

"Someone passionate about something. Only thing I hear people care about is alcohol on a daily basis." he says with a forced exhale and a purse of his lips. "Or illegal things I'm not at liberty to discuss." he says more playfully.

"Yeah I found a healthy way to deal with my obsessions. Luckily."

"That's rare. Hard to do." he nods in approval.

"You'd know, you own your own business. That's hard to achieve." you offer, your face unknowingly soft and open.

"You know, you're actually pretty nice, Bella." he says with a teasing tone.

"If you tell anyone I'll hurt you." you threaten, a flash of a smile before you turn the bottle up to take another drink. ------ The set was over and you were going to grab a soda for the road while he went to the bathroom. The place was still crowded, people on the move as the audience started to break up into sections.

"Biggest bottled soda ya got for the road." you say to Mallory, leaning over onto the bar again so she could hear you over the voices as she took a moment to restock some glasses.

"Got it!" she calls out.

You stayed on the bar, considering cracking open some peanuts when you feel someone touch you. You immediately stiffen, the hairs prickling up on the back of your neck as the pleasant expression from your face falls into a low brow scowl quickly. You hesitate only a moment, and another touch, this time clearly a whole hand rubbing over your ass and squeezing. You react quickly as your temper has taught you, you see the man starting to lean over the counter next to you and identify his weak points as your self-defense training had taught you.

You turn your body quickly, hopping off back from the bar and correcting your posture. You didn't know this guy, not that it mattered, and you react before whatever sleazy greeting he was gonna spew out could pass his lips. You shift your center of gravity, your fist moving back and positioned to knock him right in chin before the gross smirk even left it. You hit him with a hook, his body twisting and doubling over the bar before sliding down into the floor.

You stand and hiss, shaking out your hand as the rings on your fingers make the joint ache from the impact.

"Back at it again I see?" Mallory says, tossing you the bottle.

"Fucker grabbed my ass." you say without looking up from the body slumped into the floor.

"HEY!" you hear Declan, who has his hands on your arms quickly, turning you to face him. "You alright?" he asks, looking you over and finding your face calm, eyes blinking up at him like he was the one acting strangely.

"Yeah. Hands hurts a little." you mutter.

"What'd...who...are you okay?" his voice rises in pitch.

"Yeah dude, I'm fine. This douchenozzle grabbed my ass." you roll your eyes.

Declan looks to the body and back to you. "You knocked his out I see." the fear moves from his face and is replaced with bright amusement.

"Seemed fair." you say with a shrug, twisting the cap off the soda.

"You just..." he shakes his head, his hands on his hips. "Damn." he starts to laugh.

"Told ya if you mess with her she'll kill ya." Mallory laughs and hands you your card back across the bar.

"What the fuck!" a guy comes up to the bar, kneeling by the unconscious offender. "What happened?"

"You with him?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"He grabbed my ass so I knocked his out." you say casually, looking over your hand. "Fucker better not've cracked my ring." you mutter.

"He touched you and you do THIS? What the fuck, he just thought you were hot." he says defensively.

"Maybe he should learn how to compliment women instead of touching them without permission. He touched me in a way I didn't want, I touched him in a way he didn't want. Even stevens." you say with a nod. Declan watches your cool demeanor with a dumbfounded smile on his face. You were full of surprises.

He looked you over and Declan is on high alert, ready to defend. "He probably didn't even mean to touch you, I mean...you are one thick bitch."

You sigh and decide to go with a threat instead of leaving two bodies. You lean forward and get his balls in a vice grip and he squeals. "This is how he grabbed me. So does this seem like an accident to you?"

"No...FUCK, no!" he grunts and tries to push you away and you let him go. "God damn, you're fuckin' crazy you-"

"Watch it." Declan says intervening before another name called would cause you to knock this guy out too. He thought the physical warning was more than fair. "Looks like you need to get your friend out of here. And reconsider how to talk to women, huh? I'm sure you wouldn't like it if I told you what a needle dicked pussy you are, so don't go callin' names... callin' the woman a bitch." he almost growls out.

He eyes Declan and is rightfully intimidated but the guys pissed and he even considers taking him on for a moment. His eyes shift back and forth between your short frame and Declan's tall one before stepping down and hoisting up the now groaning man. "Both of you are fucking crazy." he says in a weak defense, dragging the guy alongside him.

"Thanks." you say with a weak smile.

"On my own constitutions couldn't let him get away with bad mouthing you like that twice."

"I get it." you say with a subtle smile. "Thanks for not trying to puff up and defend my honor. I hate that shit." you roll your eyes and pat his arm.

"It didn't look like you needed it." he says with a laugh that carries across his face.

"I didn't." you give a small chuckle back, handing him the bottle. "You ready to get out of here?"

"You need ice for your hand or something?" he asks, motioning towards your clenching and unclenching fist.

"Nah. It's freezing outside. If it gets bad I'll put it out the window on the drive back." you say only half joking.

"Whatever you say, Tyson." he jokes, moving his arm out in a sweeping motion for you to lead the way.

"More like McGregor." you say with a laugh before shaking your hand again.

"I'm inclined to agree with whatever you suggest from now on or some reason."

"Because you're smart." you grin nod your head, letting him know he was under no threat from you.

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer

#frontier #frontier fanfic #declan harp x reader #declan harp fic #declan harp fanfic #frontier fic #frontier fan fiction #delcan harp #jason momoa #declan harp x ofc #declan harp fan fiction #frontier au #declan harp au #frontier modern au #declan harp modern au #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #frontier fandom

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our-smooty · 5 years

Text

If It Ain’t Broke

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Mature

Relationships: None

Tags: suicidal thoughts, self harm, drugs and alcohol

Summary: 4 times Murdoc needed help and the one time he accepted it

Murdoc held the lighter to his skin, watching the flame burn. It didn’t hurt as much as it should have thanks to the copious amount of alcohol and speed in his system. Honestly, he was a little disappointed; the pain was one of the best parts. Quite quickly a reddened spot appeared, getting worse and worse until the Satanist couldn’t stand the heat any longer. What was left after he flicked the lighter closed was an anger blister, one of numerous on that arm.

FuckingDisgustingAddictPoserPieceOfShitNoOneWouldCareIfYou--

A rapid, loud banging on the washroom door broke him out of his trance. He’s nearly forgotten where he was.

“Hey asshole!” someone called through the wood. “People are waiting out here!”

Murdoc swore gruffly. “Piss off! Go find another shitter. We’ve got lots of them!” Why had he thought throwing a house party was a good idea? Now it sounded like the guy outside was kicking the door. The bassist really didn’t have the energy to deal with this, though that could be fixed with a bump of speed.

He let the idiot keep smashing on the door as he got his fix and cleaned himself up. Pulling down the sleeves of his grey shirt and fiddling with the lock, Murdoc swung the door inward. The dullard on the other side was mid-kick, and the sudden removal of the door caused him to stumble forward onto the bathroom floor. Murdoc cackled.

“Serves you right,” he snarked, stepping over the fallen man and out into the hallway. The others in line for the loo were quiet now that they realized who had occupied it. The bassist leered at partygoers as he passed, stalking off to the living room where he knew his bandmates would be.

“Murdoc!” 2D cried as he walked through the doorway. The singer had a bird under each arm and a joint in hand as he lounged on the sofa. Russel was sitting at the--normally cluttered-dining room table playing cards with a group. Noodle was nowhere to be seen, though that wasn’t surprising, given that she was only 10 years old and the house was full of drugs and other illicit activities.

Murdoc didn’t answer the kid, choosing instead to head straight to the liquor cabinet and grab a bottle of whiskey. His high from the speed was kicking into gear and his knees were shaking, though he never would have admitted it out loud. Instead, he slunk over to the other couch and sat slouched into the peeling leather.

“Where’d you go, Muds. We missed you!” Satan did the singer ever shut up? Now he had the girls cooing and tittering over in his direction. Normally he would have slid over and stolen the birds from the other, but his heart just wast in it tonight.

“None of your sodding business,” he snapped, swigging from the bottle. 2D continued to smile--the simpleton probably didn’t even know he’d been insulted. Murdoc watched him go right back to chatting with the ladies without a care in the world. His arm burned and he resisted the urge to scratch.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Russel asked from the table. Murdoc’s nails dug into his palms and the skin under his sleeve throbbed. He felt the familiar heat of rage bubbling up from his stomach into his throat.

“Fuck off lard-arse!” he felt himself screaming. Before he knew it he was throwing the bottle, smashing it against the wall beside the TV. The women on the sofa began to shriek, and 2D jumped up, hands flying all over the place.

“Holy Hell, Murdoc!” he shouted, taking a step towards the bassist, and then back again with his hands outstretched. Murdoc was panting now, though he wasn’t sure why.

Russel stood and set his cards down, motioning to the others at the table to leave, then turned towards Murdoc. “Are we gonna have a problem, Murdoc?”

The drummer was so much bigger than him, and had already proved himself of taking Murdoc down. His nose was a testament to that. But still he was so angry for no reason and his heart was pounding. Maybe a fight would help him calm down. With three quick steps, he was up in the drummer's face, swinging wide.

He didn’t even remember hitting the floor.

“Where is Murdoc?”

Noodle was standing in the center of the studio, guitar plugged in and ready to play. Russel sat behind his drum kit reading a magazine and 2D was fiddling with one of his keyboards in the corner. The only member missing was the bassist.

“Probably still sleepin’,” Russel sighed, flipping the page. Noodle frowned.

“He knew we had practice this morning, yes?” she asked. Stu looked up from his keyboard to nod and shrug.

“I told him, but you know how he is,” he answered. This was so like their oldest member; make promises and then completely flake. She was getting really tired of his attitude.

Noodle threw off her guitar and stomped out the studio door. Neither Russel or 2D tried to stop her, they knew better than to get in her way. She could probably take them both out and barely break a sweat.

The guitarist strode through Kong towards the car park, the heels of her boots clacking loudly. No longer was she the little 10-year old running through the halls. Noodle was a force to be reckoned with now, something that Murdoc would come to learn in a few minutes.

When she got to the carpark it was silent. Normally when Murdoc was in his Winnebago it was filled with the sound of loud music and other debauched activities. It looked like 2D was right when he said the bassist was probably sleeping, though that wouldn’t save him from their youngest members wrath.

“Murdoc!” she shouted, banging on the door with her fist. No sound came from inside, but the door was locked so she knew the bassist was in there. “Murdoc! You are late for our practice!”

There was significant rattling and clanking from inside. The door swung open and Noodle only just had time to step back to avoid getting hit. “Who the fuck is poundin’ on my soddin’ door!”

Murdoc was a mess. As usual, he was mostly naked, though Noodle was eternally grateful he was still wearing underwear. His cape was missing, and he only had one boot on. His normally tidy but greasy mop-top was in disarray, and the bags under his eyes were ten-fold. But that wasn’t what Noodle noticed most.

“Kore wa Nan desu ka? You are injured!” she grabbed at his arms, pulling them forward. There were cuts and burns dotting both of them and covering up old scars. A trickle of fear and concern broke through her previously furious mood.

Murdoc flinched and pulled back, retreating into the Winnebago. Noodle followed him before he could lock the door, stepping over debris and clothing. The bassist was rifling through said clothing for something to cover up with, muttering to himself.

“What are you doin’ here Noodle?” he asked, voice rough as he pulled on a long-sleeve shirt. The injuries disappeared under the cloth, and she had to wonder how she’d never seen his scars before.

“We have band practice,” she answered, watching him. “You promised you would be there.”

Murdoc swore and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. I forgot.” He was stumbling around now, hopping into a pair of trousers that looked well beyond their lifespan.

“I’ll be there inna minute, Noodle,” he said, still not looking at her as he fumbled around for his other shoe. It was a little sad, and her concern increased.

“Are you alright?” Some of those injuries looked recent and swollen.

“Perfectly fine, Noodle-girl. Jus’ slept in a lil’, that’s all.” He was most certainly lying. He’d opened the door much too quickly for him to have been passed out after a night of drinking. She frowned.

“Do not treat me like a child,” she insisted, striding towards him and grabbing his arm again. “I am not stupid, Murdoc.”

He deflated a little, the fake smile he’d plastered on sliding from his lips. Pants on but not buttoned he sat heavily on the bed, hanging his head.

“I don’t--Can we not talk about this?” he asked, gaze trained on the floor. She knew that he knew what the injuries were, where they’d come from. But she didn’t know what to do about it; for all her eagerness, she was still only a teen. So she sighed and nodded, turning back towards the door.

“Please, be careful,” she asked before walking down the Winne steps. He didn’t say anything as she left. Before swinging the door closed the looked back at him. “Do not worry about practice, we will reschedule.”

When Noodle got back to the studio, 2D and Russel were jamming, riffing off of each other in a lazy sort of way. They stopped when she entered, obviously looking at the doorway behind her. It was obviously empty.

“Did you kill him?” 2D asked, and the warble in his voice gave away that he was only half-kidding. Russel chuckled.

“He will not be joining us today. We will have to practice tomorrow,” Noodle informed them neutrally, moving to put her neglected guitar away. 2D shrugged and started to pack up while Russel tossed his sticks to the side.

“What, was he too drunk to bother showing up?” he asked. Noodle wasn’t sure what to say to either of them. Should she tell them what she saw? Should she keep Murdoc’s secret? It felt like she had half the pieces to a puzzle, with the other half nowhere in sight.

“He is ill,” was what she settled on. For now Noodle would keep Murdoc’s secret, at least until she could figure out what the best thing to do would be.

2D was settling into life on Plastic Beach, if you could call it that. After the first week he discovered that most of the time, Murdoc forgot to lock him in his room or order the Cyborg to do it. So he spent most of his time not recording wandering the island avoiding the foul-tempered bassist.

Sometimes though, he wasn’t so successful. It had been at least two weeks since Murdoc sent the Cyborg for a supply run, and he was getting tired of eating cereal for every meal. They hadn’t been recording anything either, so the singer hadn’t had the chance to ask if and when they’d be getting more of anything. If he wanted to find out, he’d have to seek out the other willingly.

“Uh, Murdoc?” he called, knocking on the other’s bedroom door. Cyborg was nowhere to be seen, which made him uneasy. It was always creeping around making those God-awful mechanical sounds.

When he heard nothing from inside he tried the handle--it was unlocked. Very slowly he pushed the door open just enough for him to stick his head inside. It was dark, as usual, and empty. Plastic Beach wasn’t exactly massive, where could Murdoc be hiding?

He got his answer in a loud clattering coming from Murdoc’s en-suite bathroom, followed by Cyborgs usual beeps. Taking care to not step on anything important the singer made his way over to the bathroom, peering through the doorway.

Inside Cyborg was standing in front of the tub, an open first aid hit at its feet. On the edge of the tub sat Murdoc, shirtless and bedraggled and most certainly drunk. 2D stared as Cyborg meticulously wrapped one of the bassist’s hands in gauze. His other hand was still unwrapped and sat bloody and bruised in his lap. Had Murdoc gotten into a fight? There was no one else on the island since they’d finished with the last contributor. And fighting didn’t explain the other scratches and scars littering his entire upper body.

“Please give me your other hand, Master,” Cyborg said, placing the wrapped one down. Murdoc winced as he held it up, looking longingly at the half-empty bottle of rum on the floor. As his eyes slid over the rest of the bathroom, his gaze landed on 2D peeking in through the doorway. Stu gulped and stepped back, sure that he was in for a beating.

“That you, Faceache?” Murdoc sounded tired and cranky, never a good sign. 2D could probably outrun him, but then who knew when he’d seen the man again. And he was really, really tired of cereal.

“Y-yeah, it’s me Muds,” he answered, stepping into the bathroom fully. The smell of antiseptic stung his nose. Murdoc swatted the Cyborg away and stood with some effort. He was much drunker than the singer first thought.

“Th’fuck d’you want?” he slurred. 2D had the sinking suspicion that if Murdoc hadn’t been so uselessly drunk he would have been spitting mad.

Hands drawn up and fingers twiddling, 2D warbled, “W-well there’s no food, ‘cept cereal a-and expired milk.”

Murdoc wobbled dangerously, and the Cyborg shot a hand out to support him. A sick feeling ran through the singer as he looked on. Murdoc had been frightening and intense when they lived at Kong, but now he looked like an old, unstable drunk. It was honestly sad, and Stu felt a stab of pity for the other.

“Y-y-you,” Murdoc stuttered, pointing a shaky finger in the singer’s face. “The fuck d-d-’you know?”

2D raised an eyebrow, still wary but not as scared. He could definitely get away from Murdoc right now if he had to; it’d been a long time since he saw the other this drunk. “I think I know when the cupboards are empty, Muds.”

Cyborg took this moment to pipe up. “It has been approximately 15 days since the last supply run.” Murdoc growled

“I knew that, y-you bucket of bolts!” 2D flinched. This wasn’t going at all like he’d imagined. After seeing the bassist in this state, 2D was less worried about supplies and more worried about his health.

“Murdoc, a-are you alrigh’?” he asked, reaching out to put a hand on the Satanist’s arm. Murdoc winced and drew back, nearly falling into the tub.

“I’m fu-fuckin’ fine,” he said, face going pale. Blood began to drip from his untreated hand. Not two seconds later he was pushing 2D out of the way and retching into the toilet bowl. All that came up was bile and, presumably, alcohol.

“I dunno... you’re hurt an’ you look pretty rough, mate.” Was Murdoc even his mate anymore? He’d beat him and kidnapped him and treated him like shit for years now, but something about seeing the other man so broken made 2D forget most of that. His mother had always said his kind nature would get him into trouble one of these days. “Why don’t you go lay down for a bit?”

“Sod off!” Murdoc shouted, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and staggering to his feet.

2D persisted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea mate…” But Murdoc was angry now, advancing towards the singer with a hard glint in his eye. 2D recognized that look and decided it might be time to make his escape.

“Get the fuck out!” he screamed, making a grab for the singer’s shirt. 2D dodged and scampered out of the room with a small squeak. So much for trying to be nice, or getting more food. It looked like he’d be eating cereal for a while longer.

One of the main perks of being so huge and living on the roof was that Russel had a good amount of privacy from the rest of the band. Minus the occasional car and passerby, it was almost peaceful. Well, at least it usually was.

For the last couple of weeks, at around 3 am every morning, one of his bandmates had started causing a racket. It was mostly thumps and bumps, like someone pounding on the walls, and in general, he could sleep through it, but he was still curious. 2D and Noodle weren’t usually the type to be so discourteous, though sometimes the singer would forget the expected social niceties. Russel had his suspicions that it was Murdoc making all the noise, but he hadn’t been able to catch the man in the act. Until one night.

As usual, the banging began around 3. Unusually, Russel was still awake, having been in the clutches of a transient spell of insomnia for a few days. It was definitely coming from the part of the house where Murdoc’s room was, and this time Russel was determined to tell the older man off. Carefully he leaned down to his bedroom window, using one giant finger to tap on the glass.

“Yo Muds,” he whispered, “what the fuck are you doin’ in there man?”

The banging stopped abruptly, and Russel tried to see inside to locate the other man. It was incredibly dark like the bassist had intentionally removed all the light fixtures from the room. While squinting through the window, the drummer was caught by surprise when Murdoc appeared at the glass, yanking the dirty pane up and open to stick his head out.

“What’re you shouting abou'?” he drawled, the unmistakable stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke leaking from the open window. Russel’s nose crinkled in disgust.

“I’m asking you what the hell you’re doing to make all the noise every night,” he repeated. Murdoc rolled his eyes and took a drag of the smoke he was sucking on.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Russel.”

The drummer huffed. “Like hell you don’t.”

Murdoc blew his lungful of smoke out the window, and subsequently into Russel’s face with a smirk. “Did I disturb your beauty sleep?”

“Fuck you,” Russel snarled, choosing to return to his rooftop and ignore the disgusting man. As he retreated he could hear Murdoc’s croaky laugh echoing into the night.

But the drummer wasn’t going to give up that easily. Still unable to sleep the next night, he lay and waited for Murdoc to start up again, and like clockwork, the banging began. This time, Russel was quiet about it, leaning down to peek through the window and hopefully catch the other in the act. He looked through the glass, willing his eyes to adjust and see whatever was going on.

Like the night before it was completely dark, but that didn’t stop the drummer. He was patient, waiting until his eyes adjusted enough to be able to see into the room. Inside he could see the piles of trash and other junk that was omnipresent in any space Murdoc stayed in for long. In the far corner, there was a bed covered in lumpy sheets. As Russel watched, the sheets shifted violently, a green arm coming into view for a brief second.

He was about to look away, almost certain he was about to see something he really didn’t want to when he heard a muffled, shout that sounded far from sexual. Suddenly, Murdoc sat up, his arms flailing and bumping into the walls, making a familiar banging noise. Had Murdoc been having nightmares this whole time?

“Sweet Satan!” the bassist screamed upon noticing Russel lurking outside of his window. Russel winced--he really should have seen that coming--and opened the window with one massive finger.

“Uh, hey Muds,” he said, a bit embarrassed to have been caught. “Sorry I scared ya.”

Murdoc had the covers draw up over his chest, eyes wide. He wasn’t even trying to play it cool, Russel had scared him silly. “W-w-what the fuck are y-you doin’ at m-m-my window!?”

“You were thumpin’ around again so I decided to check up on you.” Really he’d wanted to catch the bassist in the act and tell him off, but now that he knew why Murdoc was making so much noise…

“Are you OK man?” Russel asked, watching Murdoc try to quell the shakiness of his limbs. The drummer couldn’t help but feel a little bit worried. Murdoc might have been horrible and rude, but he was still Russel’s friend.

“I’d be a lot be-better without you starin’ i-in my sodding w-window!” The bassist said through chattering teeth. Russel wondered if he should push, or if he should knock on 2D or Noodles window and let them know. But then Murdoc was swinging his legs out of bed and walking towards the window, fist raised and lips drawn back in a snarl. He banged the window shut and drew the curtains with such force one of them ripped off the rod.

Russel didn’t waste time staring at the swaying fabric; if Murdoc wanted to be an asshole, then fine. He huffed and lay back on the roof, staring up at the stars. It wasn’t really his place to be getting into the bassist’s business anyway. Murdoc had made it clear what he thought about the rest of the band.

It was over. He’d made it through the fire to the other side, and he was exhausted. Murdoc had managed to get home to the Spirit House, apologize to the band, and make it safely to his room before breaking down. Finally alone, he crumpled to his knees, ugly but silent sobs bursting from his chest.

Despite the things he’d said online, prison had been absolute hell. He honestly hadn’t thought that he’d make it out alive--and almost didn’t, after his stupid stunt. It might have been worth it to tell the others, to let them know, but every time he tried, he couldn’t get the words out. He’d been close when they’d greeted him with hugs and kind words, so so close. But at the last minute he’d choked up; how do you tell your family about the things that had happened? Story of his life.

But he didn’t want to think of that now. All the awful things he’d done in the past, or had done to him were always in the back of his mind and it was so easy for them to come bubbling out when he was already upset. It was nearly impossible to stop the tears now, and it was getting harder to stay quiet. Shakily, he shoved a knuckle between his teeth, biting down.

He didn’t want to do this anymore, he couldn’t do this, he couldn--

Of course, just as he felt himself shaking apart, there was a quiet knocking at the door. The bassist went stock-still as 2D’s twangy voice filtered in through the wood.

“You in there Murdoc?” he didn’t answer, but the singer didn’t seem put off. “I saw you come up here and I wanted to make sure you were alrigh’.”

Murdoc gasped in an effort to quell his crying and find his voice. Unfortunately, 2D had never been the most curtious person when it came to personal space, and the doorknob was already turning, revealing the singer staring down at Murdoc’s pathetic form.

“Oh uh, what happened?” he asked dumbly. If Murdoc hadn’t been in such a state he would have said something nasty, but as he was all that came out was a choked whine. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, finger still jammed between his fangs and dripping blood. 2D finally caught sight of it after the blood began to dribble down the bassist's hand. Immediately, he shot forward, gently pulling the skin away from Murdoc’s grasp and sitting beside him. “Jeeze Muds, don’t hurt yourself.”

Now he had the smaller man’s hand in his, and Stu began running his thumb in comforting circles. “What the matter Murdoc?”

“I-I-I--” He was shaking so bad it nearly looked like convulsions. 2D’s eyes went wide, then softened as he leaned in to slowly wrap an arm around the bassist. It made Murdoc realize how long it’d been since someone actually hugged him.

“Take your time mate, it’s alrigh’,” 2D assured him. Murdoc nodded, though he felt like a complete idiot the entire time. When did he get so soft?

Eventually, he got the shaking under control, mostly thanks to the pressure of Stu’s arm around his shoulders. If he’d been on his own it could have taken hours to calm down, and not without a good bit of alcohol. But 2D was there and warm and familiar in a way Murdoc desperately needed right now, so he let himself be weak just this once.

“Feelin’ better?” the singer asked, giving Murdoc space to shift and get comfortable. Again, he nodded, opening his mouth and taking a deep breath.

“Not really, no.” His voice was wrecked and gruff. “I feel like a total prat.”

“Uh, why?” 2D asked, cocking his head to the side. Murdoc wanted to punch him, but he was afraid he didn’t have the strength to really lift his fist. Instead, he weakly gestured to himself with a sigh.

“Jus’ all of this, s’not d-dignified.” He sniffed and rubbed at how eyes until he saw stars. “Why’d you bother knockin’ if you were jus’ gonna barge in here?”

2D chuckled nervously and shrugged. “I had a gut feelin’ you weren’t doin’ alrigh’ when I saw you downstairs. And then I came up here and your door was locked…” He angled his body toward the bassist, making it clear that the older man wasn’t getting out of this conversation without a fight. “You don’t have to deal with this stuff alone, Muds.”

Murdoc laughed wetly with a grimace. “Y-yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Spare me the--”

“I’m serious!” 2D interrupted. “Murdoc we’ve known each other a lot of years. And we have a lot of history. But we’re still family, and I don’t like t’see you hurtin’. I care about you, you old sod.”

The truthful tone made Murdoc squirm a little. He’d never been very comfortable sharing his emotions with others, but he really was at the end of his rope. Taking another steadying breath to stave off the tightening in his chest, he looked up at 2D.

“I-I-I don’t know how.”

Stu smiled a little, probably glad Murdoc wasn’t screaming in his face. “You could start by tellin’ me what’s got you so worked up, and then we could go back downstairs and watch a movie with Russel and Noodle.”

He could feel the exhaustion in his limbs and behind his eyes. “I-I don’t think-- I’m tired, D.”

“Maybe you should get some rest then, and we can talk tomorrow?” That sounded incredible.

“Y-yeah, that’d be good,” he agreed. 2D got to his feet and held out a hand to the bassist, crouching down a little because of his height. Murdoc thought about getting up on his own, something about the way the singer kept trying to help him made his stomach churn. But he was also so tired, and he didn’t want to keep pretending to be something he wasn’t, so he took Stu’s hand and let himself be pulled up. It felt like making progress, in a weird way.

#gorillaz #fanfic #murdoc niccals #Stuart Pot #Russel Hobbs #noodle #tw suicide #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL #tw self harm

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nymph-net · 7 years

Text

ISSA STORYTIME

Ok I’m bored so ima tell y’all a wild ass story that happened to me first semester of my college experience; the story of when I got laced by a wild thot with some CRACK. Let’s get into the tea gorls

So I went to art school for communications design. I dont go there no more because it was hella racist, but a different story for a different day. The campus I went to was way up north, in Utica. Never heard of it? Didn’t think you would. Just imagine if the worst neighborhood in Detroit was an entire town with like no people and cows. I don’t know about y’all but at my school we had this thing called late night where we get snacks and shit in the cafeteria after dinner. I was one of 6 black boys in my entire school so it was always dry. So this particular late night I had got a pink wig and started fucking around and giving these crackers some life to entertain myself. My extra ass being who I was did stand-up for the entire night. Since it was early in the school year tho I aint really have no solid friends, so the people who I was gonna go smoke with finished their food and left me like some fucking snakes. When I was done I was deep in my feelings lol because bitch.....you gon spark up.....without me???

I was like “y’know what idgaf, I don’t need you niggas” because I’m likable, right? I could talk to anyone I wanted and make friends. That’s what my dumb ass thought even though I knew damn well these all were some back woods ass white people from Cousin Fucker Nowhere. So I’m standing in front of the dorms like “ok, if I was a white person who loved giving free weed to negroes, what would I look like?” and as though Satan himself heard me, this girl wearing dem Jerusalem B.Cs (you know what I’m talmbout) and a bright jacket that had to be from the thrift store because it smelled like pickled dick and horse radish extract walked past. I was like DING DING DING, gotcha Becky!! So I was like “omg hi sis, I always see you in class and I think your style is so cool blah blah” and all that fake shit. Naturally Linda felt gassed af and immediately offered to let me smoke with her. Yeah, yah boi got it like that.

But mama ain’t raise no fool and I seent Get Out so I don’t go nowhere with a white person without at least one other poc with me. So this couple I’m good friends with now was walking out of the dorms, we just gon call them Peanut & Jelly. They were quiet and both shy people so they didnt hang out much yet. They were also native and latino which was good enough for me so my loud ass was like “Aye, y’all smoke??” it’s 2017 so of course they smoke and I invite them to come smoke some of Margret's weed. Consider it reparations. Since they ain’t have no friends they were happy to come join us. Smh y’all if you see this I’m so sorry I got y’all into this lmao. Anyway Trisha was like “Super duper the more the merrier, let’s go :))” with her wild ass. But I remembered I still had some of my own weed left so we ran to my room and got it, but I ain’t have no bag to carry it in. So Ingrid said “Oh, I have a bag you can put it in” and pulled out this ashy ass ziploc bag. RED FLAG NUMBER ONE. But my clueless ass thought she just had some plaster or some shit in there before since we went to an art school. Smdh.

Shortly before we depart Peanut and I are getting everything together and making sure there’s no smell. While this is happening Jelly watches Rebecca spread some “dust” on her gums. RED FLAG NUMBER TWO. This nigga thought it was candy dust or something. No one in this equation is particularly bright. But anywhore, we started making moves to this parking lot/roof that we usually hung out at. I was hoping my friends fake asses would be there so I could ditch Jill’s ass. Peanut & Jelly I ain’t mind because they were cool once you got them to talk. I could tell they weren’t feelin Harriet tho lol and tbh neither was I but would your ass turn down a completely free spark up??? Didn’t think so. We get to the roof finally and I start checking my jacket to find I forgot my mini bong in my room. So Elizabeth is like “Oooh awesome we can smoke out of my pipe!” and I’m like lol you bougie ass bitch just call it a bowl. But my fake ass just said “Litty gorl, load that shit up!” thats exactly what I get. She starts loading her “pipe” up and I notice both my weed and hers lookin a lil ashy. AND THATS RED FLAG NUMBER THREE

It’s like 11 at night tho and we only had street lights so I didn’t wanna call Susan out and end up lookin a fool if it was nothing. So I just let her do her thing and pull out my lighter so we can make it do what it do ya feel? So we smokin and I’m having a pretty good time. I feel proud of myself and shit for scamming little Mary Ellen and getting a full spark up after my niggas rolled out on me. I’m like “haha bitch you did that and you high as fuck”. Me being the funny nigga I am in my head, I make myself laugh. Then I realize for someone who smokes pretty regularly and only had two hits, I was already shmizzed for some reason. I look over at Peanut & Jelly and both them niggas lookin like

“Already??? Huh, that’s weird”, young nigga Kam thought to himself. But once again it was free weed so I shut my Nancy Drew ass up and let it go. Debra passes the “pipe” to me and I hit it harder this time because I ain’t pay for it so ima get mines. Because I hit it so hard I kinda taste it and bitch, that shit tasted like Mary J. Bliges leather boots and plastic. So I’m like “yo Amanda, what’s good with your bowl the weed taste weird?” And it ain’t like weed has a particularly good taste but I know it damn sure don’t taste like that. Emily proceeds to say “I don’t think anything’s wrong with the weed, might be the other stuff tho” As soon as she said that shady shit Peanut and I’s heads snapped to look at her like “Bitch....what other stuff??”

Jelly at this point is checked the fuck out, like this nigga is walking through space or some shit. That might just be him tho cause that nigga always acts weird when he high smh. That ain’t the point tho. This raggedy Ann ass hoe starts giggling and laughing like someone said something fuckin funny. I’m sitting there confused and high as shit still got the fucking pink wig on, Peanut got her ass riled up and with good reason because we both know we just asked ole girl a question. So Peanut says one more gain “Did you put some shit in the fucking weed?”. By now I think Amber realizes the joke is nay and she’s close to getting stomped out. Here comes the climax of the story y’all. This bitch gon roll her eyes like we being extra and say “lol it’s fine, we just smoked out of my crack pipe and I haven’t cleaned it yet” When I tell you the entire world went silent, I heard SZA wheezing into her microphone miles away. My ass, Peanut ass, and even Jelly incapacitated ass was all like

“...wut?”

Jelly just started laughing like he just heard the funniest thing ever in his whole life. Peanut was staring at Tina like she was preparing her alibi for the police when they find that lil girl’s body. And me, you ask? I was just thinkin bout my girl Whitney. Like sis, is this how it started for you? I was looking at Rachel all hurt. Et tu Becky? All a nigga wanted was some weed and now my ass sitting on a roof high off crack. Suddenly time returns to normal and the only thing my faded ass can muster is a “Pardon me???” Helen continues to chuckle like she Tiffany Haddish up in this bitch and tells us that she smokes crack and weed out of that bowl sometimes, and that we had placed the collective weed in her coke bag. Jelly stupid ass still in the corner laughing to keep from crying because I knew that baby voiced nigga was scared. I’m so astounded at this point that I can’t even drag this wild ass bitch. Peanut however, is not me. Lort I never seen anyone but my momma yolk somebody up so fast! She smooth slid across that asphalt like

Grabbed Ellie, and said “BITCH HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?? ARE YOU SERIOUS??” and started shaking that bitch like she was tryna give her shaken baby syndrome. Jelly managed to get himself together enough to try and keep his girl from going to jail. What was I doing? Well I knew I had a choice, I could help Peanut throw Taylor off the roof, or I could help Jelly keep our good sis from catchin a charge. So I chose the smartest option. MY ASS STARTED TO HIT FOOT.

That shit wasn’t none of my business no more!! Bitch the link up is over! The deck is DONE. I could already hear my momma belt whoopin my crack head ass in my mind, no thank you ma’am! My black ass was done for the night. As I’m running back towards campus I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to find Jelly running behind me, dragging Peanut along by the hand. Chloe however, is nowhere to be found. I ain’t stop running tho. Was it fear, was it anger, was it the adrenaline pushing me to run? Nah I was on crack so it was prolly that lol. We run until we’re two blocks away from campus and I’m finally too tired to run, which surprised me because I always assumed crackheads were just like the enegizer bunny. So we’re catching our breath and I’m tryna keep from falling over because I feel hella whoozy, but I manage to ask “What happened to Bobby?” Peanut proceeds to tell me she took one good fist, and dropped Katy like a bad habit. I was proud of sis too because she’s twig thin and I thought she was meek af. We start walking back to the dorms and all 3 of us are just silent. Ain’t nobody got shit to say bitch we on crack. Peanut and I lived 2 doors down from each other so they go in her room and I go in mine after we say our good nights. I go in my room and my roommate is there with his boyfriend. Immediately my roommate is like “lol you’re high af” and my overly trusting ass gon tell him “This girl laced the weed with crack”. This cracker ass bitch gon look at me and say “oh really.....are you ok?” like I just got into a small argument. Like nigga....I GOT LACED WITH CRACK DO I LOOK OK???

So I sit down and start watching videos on my laptop to try and distract myself from my anxiety because a nigga was SHOOKT to the core. My roommate and his boyfriend were just watching me like I was a good ass episode of something. I don’t blame ‘em tho, I looked wild af. I was twitching, teetering, and sweating like shit even though it was late September in upstate New York. Now this fake ass bitch gon take a snapchat video of my crackhead ass trippin and put it on his story for everyone to see. Needless to say after that day ain’t nobody fuck with Molly ever again. One good thing did come out of it tho, Peanut, Jelly, and I became real tight after that. And what became of Becky you ask? She made sure to steer clear of all 3 of us and my friends lol because they threatened to cut that hoe. Moral of the story children? Don’t trust white people.

#storytime #story #black tumblr #i dont even know what to tag this as #text post #?#entertainment #idk man #just dont juudge me #weed #tw drugs

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bigbrotherfiore · 4 years

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episode six: “i am about to shake this house down boots ” - addilyn

hoh: addilyn

evicted: rich

MIKKI: https://youtu.be/CBq0rnYR8mk

SZYMON: https://youtu.be/54DwTSjkhdw

SZYMON: https://youtu.be/SIByJuI7KtA

HALEY: https://youtu.be/wUZEHzxZB5w

daly said callout elise for playing both sides the MOMENT she stops playing both sides. im so mad. and admits that i was on the outs of their lil 4 so like bye whatever i dont even... im mad. because i think there is a difference between angrily saying someone is dangerous and outright exposing shit and also saying im in some alliance that im NOT in, he was wrong, so clearly i was right to say byeee because he thought that was a thing.

im just floundering. i feel the tension and i hate it. i dont know who i can trust of austin/sara even tho i want to and i'd lean towards neither even tho austin is trying to send me nice dms like "oh fuck" like yeah oh fuck dude ugh i dont even know what to say. addilyn should nom rich as the target but idk if i am in danger of going up beside him or as a renom. im on the outs of the entire game rn and pretty expendable to most people. i was hoping for hoh to prove my loyalty but i completely fucked it up by fumbling with my timer so RIP. hopefully i can survive regardless but it's definitely gonna be a hard path from here on out and i have no idea how to rebuild right now because nobody has any real trust for me. im gonna talk to some people more like lana and see what i can do. i could reach out to the bottom but i know they'd throw me under the bus no questions asked for doing that. my gameplay was not good this round, floaty untrustworthy lookin ass, but maybe i can make like regina george and survive being under the bus.

WHO WANT'S TO SEE MY HOH ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM feeling very glad i finally won a comp.. after coming second... This is far too much power for me to handle. But I am about to shake the house down BOOTS..........

So giving Daly a pity vote at this last eviction might have done more damage than good. Haley is pissed and wants to know who the other vote is and I can't tell her it was me, especially after I just told her I knew Daly before this game. It is also kinda hurting my own game because people are thinking that I was the vote to keep Daly and lol I was

Every day that continues in this house, it just makes it harder and harder to not tell Haley that I also know Sara as well from before this game began. I truly do believe that if I mention to her that I know Sara after seeing how she reacted about the Daly thing, I think that would be the end of our friendship. On the other hand, after this game she is going to find out regardless and she will probably never talk to me again... Luckily I told her about the Daly thing after he was already gone from the game or else that could have been really bad

Addilyn is the new HOH and I think this is good for my own personal game tbh... We have that Winnipeg connection and I truly believe she wants to keep me in this game because she gets genuine vibes from me. Unfortunately Rich and/or Sara will nominated this week and that will be a whole hassle to deal with

This game has become really unenjoyable over the last 24 hours for the reason that I hate having to lie to the people I genuinely love in this game. Knowing Sara and Daly from before this game really put me in a shitty position from Day 1. I didn't know either of them were applying but when they were both casted, I wanted to work with both of them immediately, then Haley came along. Haley has been my rock in this game and I know that I can trust her with my life in this game. She tells me everything about her game and it kills me to have to keep secrets from her but if she knew about me knowing Sara as well as Daly she would instantly not trust me and I want to go to the end with her...

I am getting real sick of Jakey in this game. He is going around starting rumours about every single person in this house and I am getting sick of it. It is clear he is working with Addilyn and Mikki because some things I have said to them only has gotten back to him word for word and that is upsetting because I really did trust Addilyn and Mikki and feel a little betrayed by them, especially if Addilyn nominated me this week after telling me I would be 100% safe

So another week where I escaped the block. Unfortunately Sara and Rich are on the block but all hope isn't over yet. We still have Devil's Lair and POV to get them off. Rich asked if I would play in the POV as his houseguests choice but I really didn't want people to see how close we are so I convinced him that picking Haley would be a better option for us. Hopefully I am not screwing myself over by setting myself up for the backdoor option this week...

LMAO not haley lying to me about not talking to Austin or ferg much when I know they're in an alliance together and her and Austin make it SO obvious that they are a duo. I can't help but laugh. it's cute how they think they are slick when they are literally MESSAGING ME THE SAME TIME, and like start messaging me after the other and then end at the same time it's just.....so obvious. like guys please try harder???? if you wanna be a secret duo keep it more secret??? you're literally in an alliance together I- and I know about it because you're aligned with MY secret duo. ahhhhh how cute of you to try how cute how cute. I'm so bitter and over these people like so over it every single thing out of haley and Austins mouths is FAKE and they think they are being so great at playing people but I'm sitting here playing them back it's so exhausting keeping up a fake conversation. the sad thing is I think I would love haley outside of this game. but in it she annoys the crap out of me because she's sooooo fake and boring. I'm over it.

So I somehow managed to avoid the block this week, considering a number of people were trying to get me up beside Rich because they were worried I would save him, which I would LOL. So from here, I have to casually try to sway the votes for Rich to stay, depending how the Devils Lair goes... I really don’t want to lose Rich and Mazden isn’t even playing this game so it’s not a difficult decision for me.

Rich is probably leaving tomorrow and this game is just getting worse and worse for me... It is literally killing me not being able to tell Haley about the full relationships I have with Daly and Sara and the longer I wait, the worse it is getting... I actually feel like a horrible human being lying to her...

(a little while later)

So I came clean to Haley about the whole knowing Sara/Daly thing because I do truly trust her with my life with in this game. Sara is probably gonna smack me when she finds this out but I will ensure that it won't affect her game. Haley means a lot to me and I couldn't wait until the end of the game to tell her or else she would probably never talk to me again.

So uh... there’s a lot to unpack here but really all I can say is that I’m really disappointed in myself for letting a dumb game really get to me and make me feel real things. Austin, Sara, and Daly all knew each other. AND have gamed together before. And took 1st, 2nd, 3rd in a previous game. Honestly, when he told me, I should have been more surprised but I wasn’t. I know I should be used to more people lying to me but he was like the #1 person I wasn’t lying to. And because of all of the work he put in to our relationship I believed he wasn’t either. But I was SO wrong. Poor rich, he and I connected immediately. And I know I stated before I don’t know who I would have picked, but I have a gross gut feeling that it would have been Austin based solely on how often we talked. Which makes me feel sick that I betrayed someone who I was great with for someone who did nothing but lie to me. Austin admitted he was the daly vote. And last night when he told me I told him I understood the vote but I didn’t understand the continued lying. And I’m not sure I stand behind that. I know this is a game of cut throat, do what you gotta do, scheming, etc... but I wasn’t here to play that way and Austin knew that. The fact that he voted against me at all really pisses me off and just hurts tbh. And Sara continually making comments about the daly thing makes so much more sense now. Like yeah I realize now how good you felt with him. You knew him! But I didn’t! BUT IF I HEAR YOU SAY WE NEED HIM OR HE WOULD HAVE HELPED THIS ONE MORE TIME ILL SNAP. You’re in my alliance, not daly. And If we all could have agreed on a renom or you let me put up jakey when I wanted to we wouldn’t be here. I also wouldn’t have put him up if I knew you all knew each other. I wanna tell sara really badly that I know. And I think rich deserves to know more than anybody. But I told Austin I’m not the type to ruin people’s games. So I’m not going to make a liar out of myself. WHICH REALLY SUCKS BECAUSE I LOVED MY IDEA OF A CAMEO GOODBYE FROM AN ACTUAL HOUSEGUEST DISHING ALL OF MY TEA. I don’t know where I want to go from here. I’ve put a lot of time and energy in to someone who didn’t need to. He had other people and was most likely playing me the entire time, he swears he wasn’t but there’s been so many lies I don’t even care anymore. I’m literally just so annoyed I let myself get here. I truly don’t want to play anymore, I don’t know if I have the emotional capacity to continue. Depending on who wins next week, I might volunteer to be a pawn and do some stupid shit to go. I’m not interested in just quitting, I don’t wanna ruin their game like that. But I’d rather have my fellow houseguests think I’m just a really bad game player rather than a coward who quit. Because it’s going to look like I quit for nothing. And really I did it to save myself from continually getting hurt, which is the first really selfish game move I plan on playing.

I am getting really sick of Sara/Haley/Rich talking about quitting this game just because we aren’t in power for one week. Yes, I will admit I was thinking about quitting my own but it was because I had to keep a huge lie from someone I truly do like and it was making her cry killed me but I wouldn’t ever go thru with it and to think that they are thinking of quitting just because things aren’t going our way for one week is really getting annoying...

Click HERE to see the Goodbye Messages for Rich.

youtube

#bbfiore #episodes

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rhotdornn · 7 years

Text

FFXIV Writing Entry: [11] -- [AU]Mercy versus Justice

Decrepit alleys lay awash with the first, autumnal drizzle. Faint flickers tickle the bulbs within the forsaken lamp posts, once-neatly planted along the pavement. Color-bled rectangles shape the course, width and berth of these alleys... And whatever else took to breeding within these hoods, too.

The pounding of the truck’s exhaust leaves little space for thought. It isn’t like for anyone to stroll through these quarters unattended at night... Or, at the very least, sporting desirable attention.

The clock’s long-since struck past the grand, ol’ midnight hour. Wishful thinking, for the city to be asleep... Yet, despite the slithering, ghastly fog and the spectral clouds clogging the heavens above, it never is. Always watching, ne’er resting.

The tires of my pick-up truck flare up in an abrupt burnout--the brakes are locked into place, hindering further movement. Loyal thing, this black beast--served its debt long past what I took for expected. Doesn’t show signs of givin’ in any time soon, either.

The door is the first to unclasp, and swing open. The soles of my boots are met with the watery rancor, hurrying down the tilted, broken tiles of cement paving the alley. A better life for the citizens, healthcare for all, poverty out-the-win’ow...! All those promises, an’ look the squalor an’ what else these people got from ‘em. I pound the heavy door back, offering a firm pat to the hood of the freshly-sprayed truck.

After the key’s secured the hinges of the door, I stuff my palms within the sanctity of my jacket. The winds were, for a blessing, not as tantalizing tonight--making the choice of a long, ebony leather jacket all the more appealing... Not that I wore much else on the side, anyhow. Black, fingerless gloves promised some succor of warmth to my palms... Not that I intended to stay outside overlong.

The back-end to some shoddy, run-down store was to be my rendezvous point, eh... Rightfully so--for deep it lay nestled within the abandoned hood, and gods would know how many stinkin’ mutts piss their territory ‘round here. The tapestry greets one in no kinder spirits--rotting off the wall, exposing solid, cracked brick from what I can only assume t’ be the nineties... And naught more is there, save for one archaic, wooden door to bar--or permit--passage. Try your luck. Or so it goes.

The back of my knuckles soon kissed the hind end of the doorway. I can feel the dense breathing ‘hind it shortly thereafter... Aye, the anxiety seeps from it like vitriol.

“Brought the milk.” I calmly mutter out, stowing my palm away, back into the confinement of my deep pocket.

“...”

I recollect my breath calmly, closing my lids as I make purchase of a lofty inhale.

“Whi’er than white, organic an’ so forth.”

The door creaks open, and I accept it as an invitation--or a death passage. Guess I’ll be made acquainted with either soon enough.

Darkness spills throughout the windowless abode--and swiftly does the door seal behind me, the moment I accommodated enough space. So much for decency, and one’s respect for privacy bubbles.

“You’ll ne’er get the code right, eh...?” the opposing voice calls out--some might find it surprising, painted just a few decibels and textures above mine own, with a lighter accent to boot.

“You make ‘em too long.” I retort swiftly, pressing on--idly nudging an empty pizza box out of my path with the aid of my boot. “Can’t be arsed t’ remember ‘em.”

“We’ve gotta be on the same page, bro--communication’s e’erythin’ these days!”

Lots of enthusiasm for someone barely leaving the precious comfort bubble of his makeshift basement...

...Or whatever this slump was.

Three computer screens illuminated a far-stranded corner of the solitary room. You’d barely make out the riled, unkempt bed from the scarce light, a pile of littering, wasted ramen cups, fast-food delicacies and god-forfend what-else scattered beside it.

“Wasn’t kiddin’, though. Got you some actual food, kid. Now, to try this ‘gain sans useless passcodes,” As we both emerge before the blinding rays of the monitors, the pictures of blueprints come into eyesight. I shove the paper bag into the resident’s own paws, thinking no better of it. “Yo. Let’s see what you’ve got for me.”

A rather burly, pale hand curls around the helm of the bag nearly suspiciously. I quirk a brow upwards, but again, think no better of the matter.

“Awh, c’mon--won’t let me eat first?”

“First we work, then we eat.”

“Ye’re more of a Sea Donkey than a Wolf...”

“An’ whyssat?”

“It’d gimme an ‘scuse t’ call ye Sea Ass.”

I shake my head near-whimsically, choosing to opt out of the conversation. I really hope the selfsame humor did not run in the family.

I lay the balls of my palms against the desk, leaning onwards to inspect the screen. Lots of print, in blue. Go figure where it got its name from.

“Right’en, partykiller--what I’ve got fer ye t’day is a proper treat, aye. Witness an’ feast upon the greatest find o’ the century, hacked exclusively byyyy~ yours truly~!”

God, the enthusiasm in his narcissistic voice is difficult to weather down. Here’s to hoping that didn’t run in the family, either.

“So... Dhem, I’m lookin’ at...?”

I squint harder, once more, asserting sheer will against floating, glowing pixels on the monitor. They ain’t something you’d encounter in architecture 101, per se.

“The greatest of all finds, Dornn! Sittin’ on yer ears o’ermuch, bro?” He joins the fray, presenting quite... Eagerly to the monitors with his greasy palm. Ask me not whence from that grease came.

Minus the enthusiasm and eyebags-doubling-as-eyeshadow, he ain’t a far fetch from me in appearance. Go figure, having shared the same cradle, as twins no less.

“These are the prints of M’s Onument Tower! An’ funny story there, too.” He began, that acidic pride back within his voice. “I stumbled quite... Peacefully while lookin’ into an operation of “borrowing” cash from one’a their lesser banks... Especially ‘fter last week, when they’ve conquered an’ cashed in from no less than freakin’ 49 whoppin’ percent of the stock market--oddly enough, the competition rose t’ the same amount ‘swell, leavin’ only a measly 2 percent fer the rest’a the workin’ folk.”

“Huh... Guess they did grow big. Yet, you do realize that such a heist might be just a bit o’er our heads, eh? They ain’t one o’ the competin’, biggest Corps’ fer nothin’ these days.” The response came naturally to me--I’m not too eager to go knocking on the vault of M-Corp’s lesser banks, littlealone their main door. Word has it the mayor’s bent to their will... An’ that’s a word I don’t mean to challenge...

...Yet.

“A’ight, but get this--our lil’ un’erground hacker friends--”

“Your.”

“Aye, fine, my lil’ un’erground hacker friends would delight in this lil’ bit of info. Who knows what they could do with this? Per’aps finally expose the lyin’ whoresons fer what they really are?”

“Ye’re not givin’ that t’ them.” I cut in sharply, and a visage befit of crushed dreams dawns on him--irritation swift to follow by the twitching of his brow.

“An’ what’d ye have t’ say we ought’a do then, huh!? Let ‘em puppet-string the cops at their e’ery whim, roll an’ rile up new gangs t’ get the drug flow steady an’ goin’ around the streets, kidnappin’, slavery, human traffickin’--they’re worse than yer common mafia! Consider ‘em forgiven, eh...? Or did’ja forget who put ye in jail in the first place, eh Dornn?”

He’s got this flair in his eyes... The talk of justice often gets him riled up. Always does it manage to ignite his heart, like it once had done to mine own.

I rise my right hand out of my pocket, planting it atop my collar. There, I fiddle with a dogtag slung ‘round me neck, twirling it around me digits. A final exhale follows, as my own heartbeat descends into a chaotic beat.

“Mask yer address, send M-Corps a lil’ worm, a warnin’--posin’ as yer lil’ hacker friends. Keep the tension ‘tween ‘em still hot, can’t ‘ave it grow stale. While they fight it out, we’ll find ‘nother backdoor in their system. Send a copy t’ Big-B, but keep the o’her siblings outta it... ‘Specially Rally.”

“Not like she’d pay attention, or has e’ersince she got that shiny, new job who-knows-where...”

“That’s a matter fer ‘nother time. Get off yer ass, grab yer guns’n’rifle, we’re “goin’ the distance” this time ‘round.” At this, that spark within his crimson hues is embellished with a brilliant glint, as his hand dives underneath the desk, and then behind it--not the most practical spot to store a sniper rifle, but it’d suffice. It kept him alive to this day, so it had to, I’d imagine.

With a few flicks of the wrist, a smack on the Enter button, and an ungodly burp did the tick confirm the message sent. Soon we set out for the door--two guns holstered at the inner flank of mine own trousers, deftly concealed beneath the coat--and one of his own guns following suit on his person, with his rifle strapped across his broad, towering back. Comes with the Roegadyn package.

Within his other palm, a platinum laptop was held hostage--a quirky alien caricature with its tongue out slapped like a sticker across its front.

As the door unlocks, locks and we make for the car, Dhem sets loose a pent-up yawn.

“By the by, how’s the lil’ snake doin’ in ‘er lil’ lair?” He butts in, earning him a upright-bending brow as I climb into the truck.

“By all ‘ccounts, she’s farin’ well. Rivs can ‘andle ‘erself jus’ fine--an’ we’ll pay ‘er a visit to make good on that ourselves. She’ll be... Thrilled t’ hear the next plan, aye.”

“Right, Dornn. Well, plan’s secured, fake-message’s sent an’--” he pauses, a thousand clouds figuratively beginning to pour down on his mood.

“...What now?” I ask, as the engine roars to life--my gaze fixated briefly upon him.

“...I forgot the food.”

The last thing those alleys saw and heard right then and there was the tension of my truck’s tires against the uneven puzzle of a pavement, complimented by their burnout’s smoke--all the while in the meantime, hundreds of laptops and personal device assistants played witness to yet a new scheme of our own make, unfolding at their isolated screens.

[Involves]: @ladyrivienne

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2017 #Rhotdornn Hyrtfyrsyn #Rhotdhem Hyrtfyrsyn #Roegadyn #Writing #RP #IC-ish #AU #AU GRID #AU IYS #Sea Wolf #Yes WD is still one of my favorite games as of late

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