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90spumkin · 3 years

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Have Yourself a Spooky Little Christmas

Summary: What the holidays are like with Spencer and your 5 year old son.

A/N: Well here it is. My first Christmas fic! I enjoyed writing this it made me all warm and happy. I don’t know who to give creds to for the pictures because I got it from google. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this, and message me if you would like to be added to my taglist or the taglist for a certain series just specify which one. Also this is kind of how i pictured Ronan while writing this. Let me know if any of the links throughout the fic are not working and I will fix them.

Pairing: dad!Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: lying to a child about Santa, the rest is just fluff

Word Count:1942

It had been a long day at the office. Pile upon piles of paperwork were coming in trying to get everything settled before the holidays. I had just curled up on the couch with my son Ronan to watch a Christmas movie, when the door of the apartment flies open and in comes my husband weighed down by shopping bags.

I instantly untangle myself from my blanket to go help him. As I make my way to him as I quickly as I can my dorky husband starts on one of his rants before I can even get a hello out.

“Y/n you are not gonna believe all the Christmas stuff I just found at that little Christmas store down the street. I was gonna surprise you guys with getting home early. Well as you can see, I got distracted.” Spencer giggled at himself and I stood staring at my husband still trying to process that my Halloween obsessed husband was actually excited about Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong we have always celebrated Christmas the 8 years we’ve been together, but we have never really gotten into the festivities of the holidays. Spencer was bent over rummaging through the bags he had dropped on the floor. He stood up with what looked like sweaters clutched in each hand a goofy grin on his face, “Where’s Ronan? I got us all matching Christmas sweaters!”

“Asleep on the couch. Spencer honey why on earth-?” I was cut off by Spencer walking away and gently shaking our son awake. There was a loud screech and yelling of “Daddy! Daddy you’re home!”

Ronan attacked his father, wrapping his arms around his neck. Spencer picked him up and walked back over towards me. He showed Ronan the sweaters and our son just thought that they were the best thing ever by the look on his face.

I looked down at the bags at my feet which contained way more Christmas decorations we had room for. Spencer noticed me looking and said, “I thought we could visit my mom this weekend and decorate her room with what we don’t use here.”

I thought my heart was gonna explode. This man is so caring and loving and I swear looking at him holding our son and love evident on his face I knew I would continue to love this man for the rest of my life. I nodded and smiled, “Oh course honey, of course.”

Spencer’s grin only grew. He started to bounce Ronan who giggled in return, “Who’s ready to decorate?” Ronan squealed in his arms and shouted, “MEEEEE!”

Spencer put him down and they grabbed the bags Spencer had dropped on the floor and raced to the living room where they dumped the bags contents on the couch.

I walk in a little less as excited knowing we still haven’t put the Halloween decorations away, “Spencer honey are you forgetting something?” He looks at me questioningly and I only point at the skeleton standing in the corner and the fake pumpkins lining the fireplace mantle. He smiles and gives me a wink, “Oh those are staying.” This of course draws out even more excitement from the little boy at his side. They are so much alike with their mop of brown curls, love of learning, and love of all things spooky. I just take it all in at stride and decide to set the mood with some Christmas music.

30 minutes pass and we have our tree up and tinsel lining the kitchen island. I begin to hum with the song playing as I place ornaments on the tree. Spencer and Ronan are in the process of placing lights and a Santa hat on our lovely skeleton friend. Ronan begins to sing while he works and decides to change the lyrics, “Have yourself a spooky little Christmas.” This makes his father so happy and from then on out we no longer say Merry Christmas.

------

A week or so passed since we decorated the house. We have not had time to do any other holiday festivities. Of course, Ronan wasn’t missing out due to all the Christmas things he gets to do in school.

It was the first day of the two weeks we get off for the holidays and I made the decision to celebrate and spend time with my little family as much as I possibly could. About the time I had made this said decision, the apartment door flew open and was followed by the pitter patter of little feet and the laugh of my husband.

They came into the kitchen where I had been since they left to get breakfast. Ronan had a serious look on his face as he said, “Mommy, we need to leave right now!”

I was a little concerned, but one look at Spencer’s face told me all I needed to know. They had concocted a plan and it all started with this conversation with my favorite little boy.

“Oh, we do? And why is that honey?” I asked while trying not to let a smile slip and break my serious composer.

“If we don’t leave right now then we’ll miss Santa at the Christmas festival!”, he leans in and whispers the best he can, “If we miss Sant then Daddy will be grumpy and we don’t like him when he’s grumpy.”

Spencer of course still hears him, and snorts and I can’t hold back my smile any longer, “Oh we definitely don’t want that. Let me grab my coat.”

This brought a loud squeal from Ronan who launched himself into his father’s arm who also started to squeal in excitement.

Once we arrived at the festival my attention was locked on all the beautiful Christmas lights and decorations. There was breathy ‘wow’ to my right, and I looked to see the two most important people in my life staring at the lights and decorations with their eyes wide and mouths agape. They were both so mesmerized that I was able to catch the child like wonder on both their faces in a picture that I would cherish forever.

I had just enough time to put my phone away before Ronan snapped out of it and said, “Okay Mommy, Daddy. This is our game plan. First, we find hot chocolate. Second, find Santa.” He put his little hand in the air between us and we laid ours on top of his and as soon as he said “Break!” Spencer scooped him up and our little Christmas mission was ago.

We had managed to drink two cups of hot chocolate each by the time it was our turn with Santa. Ronan was so excited he could hardly stay still. When they told him, it was his turn he all but ran to sit in Santa’s lap. When Santa asked what he wanted for Christmas, Ronan thought for a moment and then leaned and whispered in his ear. Whatever he told Santa made him let out a gleeful ‘HO HO HO’.

Once we were a little ways away with Ronan holding mine and Spencer’s hands as we walked, he asked, “Would you guys like to know what I asked for?”

Spencer smiled down at him, “Only if you want to tell us buddy.”

“I asked for a little brother or little sister. I think I would be a good big brother.” He said with a huge smile. I looked at Spencer who was already looking at me. We smiled and said in unison, “You sure would.”.

We found a little café to have lunch and as we ate, I watched as Spencer and Ronan discussed where we would go next. I couldn’t help but to feel overwhelmed with love knowing my husband goes above and beyond for our son because he loves him so much, he wants him to have everything he didn’t as a child. And in return Ronan all but worshipped his father.

----

It’s Christmas Eve and our apartment is full of laughter and flying flour. Spencer and Ronan’s chestnut curls look as if they have frosted tips. I let out a laugh at how cute they are, “You guys are a mess!”

“Mommy your hair is white too!” Ronan and Spencer snorted at my shocked reaction. I hadn’t realized how much I had been hit in the crossfire.

“Okay that’s it I am never letting you two back in the kitchen.” I said with a pointed look. This just caused a whine from both the boys. I of course responded with throwing more flour at them both.

Cookies were finally in the oven and I was able to talk the boys into helping me clean up the kitchen. Ronan was bringing me the dishes to put in the dishwasher and he seemed to be deep in thought. Spencer noticed this also and paused in wiping off the counter to ask, “Hey bud, what’s on your mind?”

Ronan handed me the bowl he was holding and turned towards his dad, “How does Santa visit us? We don’t have a chin tea.”

Spencer’s face twisted in confusion and then his genius brain caught up, “Oh chimney. Well me and Santa go way back. We grew up together, and so I gave him a key so he could make sure you got all your presents.”

Ronan smiled really big and made the ‘come here’ motion with his finger. Spencer squatted down in front of him and Ronan place his hand on Spencer’s cheek and said, “You are a very good Daddy.”

Tear swelled in Spencer’s eyes and he wrapped our little boy in a hug. All I could do was clutch my heart and smile with tears in my eyes. They stayed like that a few minutes until the oven timer went of and Ronan detached himself from Spencer and yelled, “COOKIES!”

-----

Waking up slowly, stretching with the sun shining through the window onto your face. That’s the ideal way to wake up. But that is not how Spencer and I woke up on Christmas Day.

I was brought out of my blissful sleep by a tiny foot in my rib cage which was connected to a little boy screaming, “SANT CAME! SANTA CAME!”

Spencer and I both groaned, but Spencer was awake a lot faster than I was. He scooped Ronan up and started running to the living room screaming a long with the boy in his arms. I followed close behind wondering how they have so much energy so early in the morning.

Once we were all in the living room Spencer started giving Ronan his gifts one at a time. After opening every gift Ronan would say, “This is the best present ever!”. This of course made us giggle.

Seeing the joy all over Ronan’s face and all over Spencer’s as he watched our son was the best gift I could have ever asked for.

After a long day of opening and playing with gifts we all curled up on the couch to watch Ronan’s favorite Christmas movie, A Nightmare Before Christmas. Ronan was curled up in my lap with his head on Spencer’s lap. Spencer looked at me then at the boy in our laps. I looked over at him as he was running a hand through Ronan’s curls in a calming manner. He looked at me and said with a smile, “I would never want to spend a spooky little Christmas with anyone else.” He kissed my head and I curled up into his side pulling our son closer to us. I never wanted Christmas to be over.

Taglist: @criminalmindzjunkie @brooklynxnicole @hendersonsshadow @homoose

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dad spencer reid #christmas #christmas fic

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the-tickly-faerie · 3 years

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for prompts, if u still want them, do u think u could do bench trio w/ lee!tommy? maybe tommy's feelin bad and needs comfort but refuses to let himself ask for or accept any? but tubbo and ranboo know him well enough to tell that he's not feeling good, so they essentially just corner him and go "you Will accept our affection and love" and tommy's like "i will Not" and they're like "cute how you think you had a choice" and tickle the shit out of him, knowing that he wants and likes it and yet refuses to acknowledge that out loud.

No sad be happy!

A/N I LOVE THIS OMGGGG I WANT THIS TO HAPPEN TO MEEEEE!!! Sorry, I didn’t get this out sooner, I was busy and I have been really down lately. But this prompt made me happier! (Not me blissfully ignoring canon). I took this and ran. I hope you like it!

Today has been a hard day for Tommy. Everything just sucked. He had no energy, yesterday he made many mistakes. Everything sucks. Today he did not want to get out of bed. Just to top it off he had a lee mood. He wanted tickles but didn’t want to ask. He just wants soft cuddle tickles. He honestly doesn’t care who he just wants tickles. But since he didn't want to ask, he just lay in his bed and watched videos and suffered.

Ranboo and Tubbo were kinda worried about Tommy; he hadn’t been out all day and hadn’t even sent a hello. So being to best friends they decided to go check on him. They walked to his door and knocked. “Tommy!” Tubbo yelled while he knocked on the door. Tommy hadn’t answered(he had his headphones in so he didn’t hear them). The two boys decided to just invite themselves in. Tubbo and Ranboo walked around the house looking for Tommy. They finally went to his room and opened the door to see Tommy laying on his bed, watching videos.

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked startling Tommy. “What are you two doing here?” Tommy said, turning to face them. “We were worried because you haven’t been out all day and didn’t say hello to us this morning on your communicator,” Ranboo explained. “Oh,” Tommy said looking away. “Are you ok Tommy? You don’t look like it,” Tubbo said with worry laced in his voice. “Me yeah I’m fine,” Tommy lied

Tubbo took a few moments to look at his best friend to basically study him because Tubbo knew Tommy wouldn’t come out to say it. Tommy saw the looking in Tubbo’s eyes and knew what he was doing. To which his face turned a subtle shade of pink. He knew Tubbo was going to figure out, it was just a matter of time.

“Look thank you two for coming to check on me but I’m fine so you can leave,” Tommy said trying to convince the boys that he was indeed fine. Even though Ranboo hadn’t been friends with Tommy that long, he could see something was wrong. “Are you sure?” Ranboo said, raising an eyebrow. “Yep, now you can go,” Tommy said quickly trying to shoo them out before they figure out what was wrong.

Then, it finally hit Tubbo what was wrong. Tommy was having a bad day and was also in a lee mood. Tommy’s face was flushed and he couldn't stop fidgeting( a key sign that he was in a lee mood) and he was in his room laying under the covers at 12 am. Which is not normal.

“I figured out what is wrong with Tommy,” Tubbo whispers leaning over to Ranboo. Now Tommy has good hearing so he heard this. ‘Shit’ Tommy thought, his face now going redder. “What Tubbo?” Ranboo whispers back. “He is under the weather and is in a lee mood. He needs soft cuddle tickles stat Boo,” Tubbo whispered before looking back at Tommy.

“So Tommy I can see you under the weather and in a particular mood. Am I correct?” Tubbo says crossing his arms. “What are you talking about? I’m fine and I’m not in a lee mood. Bitch,” He added the last part to at least try to mimic his normal energy. “You can’t lie to us Tommy and it’s ok if you want tickles,” Ranboo says, giving Tommy a grin. Tommy’s face got even redder, to the boy's delight. “I don’t want tickles,” Tommy said, which they all knew was a lie.

“How about this you don’t have to say you want tickles you can just nod your head for us to know that you want it. Now, do you want tickles, TomTom,” Tubbo says trying to make it easier for Tommy. Tommy of course was about to protest but decided that he just wanted tickles to make him feel better so he nodded his head. Of course, he looked away because that nickname always flusters him.

“Thanks for telling us, Tommy,” Ranboo says. They moved closer to Tommy and sat down on his bed. Tommy laid down in the middle of the bed and asked in a very quiet whisper, “ Can we do cuddle tickles. Both Ranboo and Tubbo internally awed at this and they both laid down next to Tommy(On their sides) without saying a word.

They started to slowly tickle his tummy. Tommy started softly giggling. “There's that cute smile I’ve been waiting for. Isn’t it cute Ranboo?” “Yes, it is, Tubbo. It's so sweet,” Ranboo said with a smile. Tommy loved this, his mood was getting better. “Guhuhuys,” Tommy giggled. “Yes Tommy,” they both said. He didn’t answer back, he didn’t want to. Ranboo brought his hand up to Tommy’s ear and gently tickled it. It was Tommy’s biggest melting spot. So when Ranboo started tickling it he visibly melted into the pillows.

They continued to tickle him before he told them to stop. “Feeling better big man?” Tubbo asked. “Yeah, I am. Thank you guys,” Tommy replies with a tired grin, he was very sleepy and was barely keeping his eyes open. “It's not a problem Tommy. Now why don’t you fall asleep, you look tired,” Ranboo said. Tommy didn’t reply and just let out a huff. After a couple minutes the pair heard Tommy's breath even out. They didn’t say anything just cuddled the sleeping boy until they fell asleep too.

#lee!tommyinnit #ler!ranboo #ler!tubbo #mcyt tickle fic #mcyt tickling #mcyt tickle #fluff #fae writes

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sword-brainrot · 3 years

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DARLING SWEETIE HELLO ITS MEEEEE. IM SO GLAD UR OKAAAAY. I MISSED YOU TO MUCH 💜💙❤💙❤. But yes. Matchuppy thingy uh. Call me Vy. A dumb bisexual who studies history and mythology as a major but fairytales in my spare time. Smol, very giving and spontaneous with gifts and hugs and adore physical affection. I uh...have a bad habit of apologizing a lot due to self confidence issues (getting there fam, getting there. Im better at least!!) And I also tend to internalize my anger and sadness. I also have...no filter once I get to know a person. I tend to compliment them out of the blue (someone says im pretty and i will immediately say back "not as pretty as you!!") Which peeps mistake for flirting which uh...i also cant tell how flirting works. Dont take compliments well either. I think...thats it??? I hope dis helps! THANK YOU DARLING💜💙❤

I Match You With...

🌸Higekiri 🌸

♡ Higekiri is a pretty excitable and no filter type of guy. He will say what is on his mind and say it with a smile. He never says it out of indecorous intentions. He is a guy that is looking for fun and is always smiling (for the most part), he isn't afraid to pull your string a little and get you riled up. Of course, making sure there is a line so he never actually hurts you. He would be able to bound off your energy whenever you want to go on hour long rants or let out your energy. Honestly, he would love to do anything like that instead of sitting around waiting for work to do around the citadel or missions.

♡ It might be surprising by just looking at his outward appearance, you would assume that he is a little bit of an air head at times and mostly happy go lucky. In actuality, he is very good at reading others. He is normally the one that is the middle man when people have an argument. He keeps the situation light hearted and make sure both sides understand each other. He would do that same for you. Higekiri will notice when you start to internalize your true feelings and take your out of the situation where it is just the two of you. He won't ask about it but know he is willing to listen to anything you have to say. He is ready to lean you a shoulder and embrace you so the burdens aren't so hard to bear alone. He would never judge you for showing the more vulnerable feelings.

♡ He would also help you break the habit of constantly apologizing. As much as he loves you for how you are, he doesn't want you to feel like everything you do needs to be apologized for. He wants you to know that you are not always in the wrong and don't have to apologize for just existing. He would take it slow and at your pace. Higekiri wants to help you love yourself just as much as he loves you. He is also the type that will say, "If you apologize again, then I have no other choice than to kiss you, ya know?" Just to get you to blush and think it more carefully. His Cheshire Cat like grin glaring back at you, full of love, of course.

♡ Higekiri is the Genji brothers that doesn't have much memory of his past. He doesn't talk to much about it and often jokes about it with teasing his brother about what his name is. (next part is my headcanon) It is no lie that he has forgotten his past but he did that to himself. When he manifested, the past was too painful for him to bear and his brain needed up giving him dissociative amnesia. Which is why Hizamaru remembers their past, but Higekiri doesn't. Even though he doesn't have his memory, he would love to lay his head on your lap as he listens to you tell him stories of all types of historical events and any mythology stories you may know. You may actually help him slowly regain memory of his own. Don't try to push it though, it could be very dangerous making someone remember something their brain forced them to forget!

♡ Higekiri's favorite spot to lay is on your lap. He is also the type of person who likes to give gifts and a bunch of physical affection. Don't be surprise if he just wraps his arms around you when he tired and use your shoulder as a pillow while you both are standing. He may even get really excited and hug you, lifting you up in his arms and spinning with you. He loves affection a lot. He also gets cold very easily, so expect him to cuddle you for all the warmth you hold.

♡ Higekiri is 5'8" (178cm), so if you are shorting than him, he is going to have a blast. He will give you piggy back rides constantly and lift you up whenever he can. He will also adore giving the top of your head a kiss when he first sees you in the morning. He finds people shorter than him to be absolutely adorable.

♡ You said that you are oblivious to flirting and don't take it well when you do realize. Higekiri isn't into being subtle. If he is going to flirt with you, he is going to make it known and he very clear about it. If he ever goes too far and you start to feel uncomfortable, he will back away and stop. He wants you to know that he is interested you and loves you a lot that he will constantly give you compliments. "Why are you so pretty? Makes me want to stay with you forever, so don't go running off on me, okay?"

♡ He will make sure you get at least one compliment a day until you start to get used to it and start to see the stuff he compliments in yourself. There will be mornings where and he sits in front of a mirror with you and start to compliment one part of you in a very detailed fashion (doesn't even have to be about your appearance), and tells you every little thing he loves about that part and how it makes him feel knowing he can have you in his day to day life. He knows it will be a slow process and you aren't just going to accept the things he says as facts but he is willing to stick with it until you can love yourself just as much as he loves you and you can see yourself with how he sees you.

♡ You like giving compliment? You fight when someone compliment you and compliment them back? Well good luck, you are entering the ring with Higekiri. You two will have compliment fights and I figure you both are very stubborn to give up so they will go on forever. Until one of you get pulled away, get too tired and fall asleep, or Higekiri does something that makes you go red and silent. You two having tallies of who won? Most likely!

#Matchups #Touken Ranbu #Touken Danshi #Tourabu #Touken Ranbu Headcanons #Touken Ranbu Imagines #Touken Ranbu x Reader #TKRB #TKRB Headcanons #TKRB Imagines #TKRB x Reader #Higekiri #Higekiri x Reader

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deidaratheartboi · 3 years

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A Day In Life With The Akatsuki Pt 1

So imagine a tv show decides to make a show about the akatsuki called "A Day In Life With The Akatsuki." This story is going to be a bit different at least I think it is. -Cue morning music- Kevin: Hello everyone my name is Kevin your T.V show host and today we are with a group of people who call themselves "The Akatsuki". Scary am I right? Now let's give them a warm welcome everyone. The Akatsuki all walk out onto the stage until Deidara trips over Sasori's cape, causing Kakuzu to fall and Hidan to land on the floor. Tobi then begins to laugh. Tobi: Hah what a entrance huh senpai? Deidara: Oi shut up it't Sasori's fault Sasori: My fault? If you weren't so clumsy you wouldn't have fell. Konan: Guys we are on T.V can you two get along for once? Kevin: Ohh what's the harm in having a little fun? Kevin helps them up. Kevin: Now why don't you all introduce yourselves? Hidan shoves them all out of the way. Hidan: My name is Hidan from Yugakure and I like Jashin, blood, and annoying the heck out of Kakuzu. Say if anyone is interested in Jashin- Random Girl: Not gonna lie he's kinda cute Random Guy: You think he's cute? Random Girl 2: I wonder what this Jashin is? Konan shoves him aside. Konan: No one wants to hear about your fake God. Hidan: But, he's real. Kakuzu: Anyways name's Kakuzu from Takigakure. I like money, money, and even more money. This show better pay good or else. Random Girl: Damn I like this guy Random Guy: All he cares about is money? What about cars? Kevin: Nervous laugh It does and you seem to be like a man who knows what he wants. Kisame goes next. Kisame: My name is Kisame and I am from the Hidden Mist and I like sharks, hot tea, and sitting alone in the dark. Itachi face palms. Random Girl: He's weird looking Random Girl 2: For real, but I mean he could be fun. Random Girl 3: I think he's cool as fuck. Kevin: Very interesting Kisame. Itachi: My name is Itachi as you might already know I am an Uchiha. As far as my likes you don't need to know. Random Girl: Ohh he's so mysterious Random Girl 2: And hot as hell. Random Girl 3: MARRY MEEEEE!!!!! Toib: Hello my name is Tobi and I am a good boy. I like Deidara-senpai, oranges, and cats. Random Girl: Awwww he's so wholesome Random Girl: I know right. Random Guy: I wonder what he looks like under the mask? Deidara struts out towards the stage. (What a queen lmao) Deidara: My name is Deidara and I am from Iwagakure. I like art, my man sasori, and art.

Because ART IS AN EXPLOSION!! Sasori rolls his eyes Randon Guy: Woah he seems energetic Random Girl: Is Sasori the red head? Random Girl 2: I smell some potential yaoi Random Girl 3: Wtf Sasori: My name is Sasori I am from the Sand Village. Random Guy: That was a short intro Random Girl: He seems so dead inside Random Guy 2: My type of dude Zetsu: My name is Zetsu you will find out about me more later. Random Guy: Yooo what's with that plant guy? Random Girl: Beats me Konan: My name is Konan I am from Amegakure. I like making paper art, watching dramas, and making plans. Random Guy: DAMN SHE'S HOT Random Girl: Omg can you not? Random Girl 2: She seems really nice Pain steps up. Pain: My name is Pain I am from Amegakure. I am the leader of this group. Random Girl: Not even 3 seconds and I'm in love Random Guy: And you talking about me thirsting over Konan? Random Girl 2: HIS VOICE IS SO DEEP DOWPJPOJFPJWPFPWJF Kevin: That will be all the introductions people tune in tomorrow to see the first episode of "A Day In Life With The Akatsuki". Until next time people. -Cue closing credits- ------------------------------------------------- Kevin: Oh we're gonna make a lot of money off of this huh? Rick (Director): Mhm now just let things take their natural course for now and then we'll begin the next phase. Kevin: Aye aye captain ------------------------------------------------ Next part coming today might get all of them out today who knows.

#akatsuki texts #reality show #hidan #kakuzu #konan #deidara #sasori #pain #zetsu #kisame #itachi

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bittysvalentines · 4 years

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la dolce far niente

To: @insertatitlehere

From: @wrathofthestag

For @insertatitlehere who wanted some family drama, pets, some introspective Jack, or social media. How about all of them? :) I hope you like it. From @wrathofthestag

Fic Summary: With Bitty out of town for a few days, can Jack learn to unwind and enjoy the sweetness of doing nothing?

Rating: General Audience.

It had come as a surprise. Just as Jack and Bitty had settled in for an evening of Netflix and Chinese takeout to enjoy the last sleepy summer days before Jack’s preseason the call came in.

“He did what?” Bitty sat upright on the couch, practically knocking over the bowl of pepper steak on his lap. “Oh no!”

Jack looked at Bitty, who in turn, stroked Jack’s arm and shook his head, as their husky, Netty, nervously paced around the room.

“Coach broke his leg, he’s okay,” Bitty quickly whispered then returned to the call at hand. “What did the doctor say?”

Bitty spoke to Suzanne, throwing out an occasional, “uh-huh,” and finally hung up with a big whooshing exhale.

“What happened, Bits? Is Coach okay?”

“That darn man! He insisted on cleaning the gutters himself—even after mama warned him not to—and he slipped as he was coming down the ladder. Bam! Broken fibula!”

And just like that, Bitty was off to Madison the next day to help Suzanne out and act as referee between her and his Aunt Marlene.

The night of Bitty’s departure, Jack sat in bed catching up on long-ignored emails. He waited for Bitty to text him, letting him know he arrived safely.

He saw an email from Ruben, the Falcs head of social media, and groaned. The subject was read Social Media Update. He’d been on Jack for a while to get his Instagram going and much to Jack’s chagrin, George agreed.

Ruben had called Jack into his office, a while back, and Jack already knew what was coming.

"George said photography’s your hobby,” Ruben said matter-of-factly. “So let's set you up with an Instagram."

"Bitty already did, I just haven't done anything with it," Jack said as he fidgeted with the Falcs paperweight on Ruben’s desk.

"Jack, the only thing worse than no social media is bad social media," Ruben sighed.

"You sound just like Bitty, " Jack said as he shrugged helplessly.

"Yeah, well, there’s a reason I like that boy." Ruben smiled. "Now let's get some content in there.”

Since that meeting, Jack uploaded exactly zero images. That was three weeks ago. He now took to ducking into empty rooms whenever he’d see Ruben walking his direction.

+++

Jack's alarm had gone off twenty minutes ago but he remembered the conversation he had with Bitty before he left...

“Why don’t you finally do all those little things you’ve been wanting to do, but never have time?”

“Little things?”

“Yeah, you know. Treat yourself."

Bitty leaned in and kissed Jack. A big lush kiss.

"You know how you’re always saying you want to sleep in more, try some new recipes, read a book on the balcony—those things. Do it. Do a little nothing."

Jack smiled thinking of the possibilities, and so he opted to stay in bed. He stretched lazily and watched the sunlight waft in. The light made curious shapes on the bedroom ceiling.

He turned to look at Bitty's side of the bed. Even though Jack had the entire bed to himself, he stayed on his side the entire night. He reached over and took Bitty's pillow and pressed it to his face. It no longer smelled of him, but Jack hugged it to his chest.

Just then Netty walked in, the look on her face clearly demanded breakfast. She gingerly strolled over and placed her chin on the empty side and looked up at Jack through lowered lashes.

"I know, girl. I miss him too."

Netty’s tail wagged.

Bitty was never really a pet person, and it had taken a whole month for him to really warm up to Netty, but when Jack went a long roadie, Netty stuck to Bitty’s side. By the time Jack returned, Bitty now called her Punkin, Cookie, Biscuit, and about a million other baking-related nicknames.

“Jack, she’s just so sweet—and has your eyes. Don’t you, my little praline?” Bitty had said as he scratched Netty’s chin.

Jack put the pillow down and sat up. Netty perked up.

"All right, let's get you some food and we'll go out for a run. Let me just see if I got any messages from Bits."

Jack reached for his phone and checked it. He already had a message waiting for him.

Bitty: Morning, handsome! Text me when you're up. Say hi to my little cupcake.

Jack: Netty said your pillow is VERY soft. We might have to make room for her every night.

Bitty: Jack Laurent, please tell me you did not let her sleep in our bed.

Jack: Maybe?

Bitty: Jack!

Jack: Haha. Just kidding. I might, though. The bed's too big without you.

Bitty: <3333

Jack smiled. He got out of bed and turned back to look at it. He was struck with the urge to take a photo of it, and then on a whim opened up Instagram. Scrolling through the filters, Jack felt overwhelmed by all the choices so he skipped that part and typed his caption.

The bed feels too big this morning.

He smiled and pressed "share."

"Shit. Was I supposed to do hash things?"

Netty looked up at him and Jack frowned. He edited the post and tagged Bitty.

"There."

Jack walked into the bathroom and saw his toothbrush sitting solitary. He felt an instant pang of longing as he missed having Bitty's toothbrush next to his. A toothbrush. Jack felt so silly. The chirping would have been endless if the guys—Samwell and Falcs alike—could see him now.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and blushed. Jack decided in that instance that rather than feeling sorry for himself (Bitty had only been gone one day and Jack needed to pull himself together, tabarnak) he would document his day to show Bitty what he was doing. Also, he could finally get his Instagram going and get Ruben off his back, but mainly it was for Bitty… and a little teeny bit for Jack.

The caption read: Good oral hygiene is the cornerstone to any healthy smile. Which comes in handy when you have someone who makes you smile. @omgcheckplease

After he brushed his teeth, Jack walked to the kitchen and poured some kibble into Netty's bowl and she eagerly dug. Jack took out the coffee grounds from the cupboard and was about to get the pot going when he stopped and remembered the Chemex Nursey had gotten him for his birthday.

He had used it a few times, but mainly he’d stick to the coffee machine because Bitty would be so antsy for his morning cup. This time, however, Jack knew he could be a bit slower. He'd drink that “hipster bullshit”—Shitty's words, not Jack's—and really savor his morning cup.

He ground the beans and set the kettle to boil. He folded a coffee filter into a conical shape and wet it. After he had placed it on top of the Chemex, he put the grounds into the filter. Once the water was ready, Jack slowly poured it over the grounds and watched it drip, drip, drip away.

Jack's thoughts suddenly took him to his childhood. Every morning when maman was home, he'd make her coffee. He hadn't thought about it in years, but he would get up early (anxious insomnia kept slept at bay often for young Jack) and make her some coffee in the old silver Italian percolator that always sat on the stove.

"Jacky, you made me coffee!" Alicia would say every single time, sounding just as surprised and genuine as the time before.

He remembered how he watched her carefully a few times and then memorized all the steps so that one day, he would be able to do it on his own. And he did! Jack felt less alone somehow, brewing coffee for his mother as the rest of the world slept.

A great cup of coffee this morning, thanks to @derekmaliknurse’s birthday gift. @omgcheckplease should I pour you a cup? #chemex

Netty pressed her nose to Jack's calf.

"Hey, girl. As soon as I'm done with my coffee, I promise we’ll go."

Just then, his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Do my eyes fucking deceive me?"

"Hey, Shits."

"Don't 'Hey, Shits,' me."

"What do you mean?"

Jack could already hear the teasing mirth in Shitty's voice.

"Well, I'm sitting here in Haus 2.0, chowing on some cereal, having my morning caw-fee, scrolling through my ‘Gram when lo and behold, not one but two—two motherfucking super soft JLZ posts appear on my feed."

Jack grinned. "Oh?"

"I just about spat out my Oops Berries, brah."

"The front office asked me to step up my online presence, that's all."

"That's all? Lemme talk to Bitty."

"He's in Madison."

"Madison? Why?"

"Coach broke his leg and he's out there helping Suzanne."

Shitty was quiet, almost too quiet.

"Shits?" Jack asked, eyebrow quirked.

Shitty guffawed. "Jack, I love you but let's call a spade a spade."

"What do you mean?" He asked feeling transparent.

"Brah, you're not doing that for the front office. You're sending Bitty a visual love letter through Instagram. You’re wooing him with images, and I gotta tell you, I fucking dig it."

Jack grinned. "I don't know what you mean."

Shitty snorted. "Right. Yeah. Okay. Listen, who am I to stand in the way of your courtly lovin' ways? Personally, I dig it. You go with your sweet displays of man-on-man affection--"

"I'm hanging up now, " Jack laughed.

"All I'm saying is prepare to be either chirped within an inch of your life or fawned all over online."

"Bye, Shitty."

"Bye, you Ansel Adams mofo. You better dedicate a post to meeeee!"

Jack laughed. He shook his head as he picked up his mug and walked out to the balcony.

Taking a small sip, Jack relished the robust aroma of the coffee which had hints of chocolate and pepper. He hummed happily. The silky lush coffee slipped down this throat deliciously while he sat and watched the morning sky finish making her appearance.

+++

During Netty's walk (Jack chose to opt out of a run that morning), they stopped at the corner bakery he and Bitty like so much. The morning rush hour crowd had long died down. He got in line and watched as an employee brought out a tray of chocolate croissants, fragrant and fresh.

"Hey, Jack," Kamal, the owner, said as Jack reached the register.

"Hey."

"No Eric today?"

"No. He's visiting his parents for a few days. It’s just me and Netty."

They both turned toward the window and saw her patiently sitting by the lamppost.

"Cool. So, one low-fat bran muffin?" Kamal asked as he began to ring up the order.

Jack looked at the croissants.

"No, I'll have two chocolate croissants and a peanut butter dog biscuit."

"All right, all right.” Kamal smiled. “Treat yourself, man."

Jack smiled. "Yeah, something like that."

Jack untied Netty and they made their way to the dog park down the street. He sat on a bench as he watched her run to and fro, while he ate his pain au chocolat.

+++

“It is little wonder that for Jack the Ripper, the ‘Liston Knife’ was the weapon of choice during his killing spree in 1888.”

Jack closed his copy of The Butchering Art, as he finished reading the chapter to Netty, who seemed quite enthralled while she rested at the foot of the couch where he lounged. She then gave out a loud yawn.

“I was going to order some food, but how about I make us something instead?” Jack said to Netty.

Jack put down his book and polished off the last dregs of his tea as Netty lazily wagged her tail a few times. Jack quickly took Netty’s picture and posted it. The caption read: She’s practically a baked good now and has no clue. Right, @omgcheckplease? #husky

He sat up and stretched as he made his way to the kitchen. Jack scratched at his belly and opened the fridge. There was some deli meat, a couple tamales Bitty got from the local carniceria, half a cheesecake, packages of fresh meat, and various odds and ends. Jack knew there were some chicken tenders in the freezer, but he wanted something else… something different.

Jack: Debating what I should have for dinner.

Bitty: I’m surprised you’re not ordering from Star of Siam.

Jack: I was going to but changed my mind.

Bitty: What are you in the mood for?

Jack: Not sure. Something good.

Bitty: Aw! I wish I was there so I could feed you.

Jack: What would you do?

Bitty: Hmm… after giving you a bunch of kisses, maybe some spaghetti and meatballs? Put some meat on your bones. You’re wasting away, Mr. Zimmermann.

Jack: Haha. That does sound good, actually.

Bitty: You know MooMaw’s recipe box? The one on top of the fridge?

Jack: The yellow box?

Bitty: Yep! Pull her spaghetti and meatball recipe and make that.

Jack walked over to the fridge and opened the small metal box. He found recipe after recipe handwritten on index cards, some yellowed with age, some written in Bitty’s neat script.

Spaghetti and Meatballs - Made with Love by Irene

Jack read the recipe: ground beef, onion, eggs, milk, garlic, crushed tomatoes, parmesan cheese. Reading it alone made his stomach growl. He opened the fridge again and saw he had most of the ingredients on hand. He opened the cupboard and found the rest.

Jack: I’m making MooMaw’s spaghetti and meatballs. And I love you for having all the ingredients in the house.

Bitty: Be sure to send me a picture of how it turned out.

Jack: Have you been online at all today?

Bitty: No, I haven’t. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? I’ve been running errands for Mama all over town. I’m getting ready to make a chicken casserole and then finally sit for a bit. Why?

Jack: No reason.

Bitty: Skype tonight?

Jack: 9?

Bitty: See you then, handsome. xoxo

Jack smiled as he gathered all the ingredients on the counter.

“Alexio, play Wilco by Wilco on Spotify.”

The smart speaker began to play as the music floated through the kitchen. Jack rarely listened to music in the house. He preferred to let Bitty play whatever he wanted and instead saved his tunes for the car.

“You and your old man music,” Bitty would sweetly chirp whenever they were in Jack’s car.

Bitty would lean over and raise the volume for Jack and begin singing to whatever song was playing—even if he didn’t know the words. Bitty would make them up as he went along. Each one smiling as the wind would blow through their hair. Bitty’s smile like sunshine while Jack would gently stroke his leg as they drove down the Providence streets.

“Alexio, call Papa.”

Jack began cutting onions for the sauce, referring back to MooMaw’s recipe, as his phone rang through the speaker.

“Allô?”

“Hey, Papa.”

“Jack, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting your call until Sunday.”

“I know, but I wanted to call you now.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m just making some dinner. Bitty is visiting his parents for a few days, and I just wanted to see how you and Maman were.”

«Missing your boy, are you?»

Jack smiled, even as his eyes stung from the onion. «Yeah, but I’m also missing you and Maman.»

«What are you making?»

«Spaghetti and meatballs. I’m using Bitty’s grandmother’s recipe.»

«Do you remember that summer, you must have been about four or so, and the only thing you wanted to eat was spaghetti.»

Jack paused. He placed the tip of the knife down onto the butcher block. «I don’t remember that.»

Bob laughed. «Really? I’m surprised. You were very adamant about it. Your poor mother was so upset that you wouldn’t eat anything else.»

Jack laughed. «Crisse, I think I do remember! Did she make it for breakfast?»

Jack recalled sitting at their kitchen table in Pittsburgh (He always liked that house because the backyard was enormous, they got a dog. Wayne, the golden retriever) and swinging his legs back and forth as Maman placed a bowl of pasta in front of him. The tang of the sauce, the gooey cheese being pulled from his lips. It all came back to him.

«How is Maman?» Jack asked warmly.

«She’s out with Louisa and Marie—they’re at a wine tasting or something. Who can keep track?» Bob said. Jack could hear the mirth in his voice.

«Well, I just wanted to say a quick hi, and I better get back to this otherwise I’ll never finish.»

«Sounds good, son. Send me a photo.»

«Will do. Talk to you on Sunday.»

«Love you, Jack.»

«Love you, too, Papa.»

Jack began to sing along to Wilco once again and he tossed the onion into the ground beef...

Jack sprinkled some parsley on the top of his dish and smiled.

“Not bad, eh, Netty?”

She looked up at him expectantly, hoping for a bite. He scratched the back of Netty’s ears, then scooped a little pasta and a couple of meatballs into her dog bowl.

He took out his phone and opened up Instagram again.

Homemade spaghetti and meatballs based on @omgcheckplease’s grandmother’s recipe. I hope I made y’all proud.

Jack shared the photo and instantly closed the app.

“Come on girl, let’s eat.”

Netty followed Jack to the dining room where he put both dishes on the table. Netty jumped up onto one of the chairs. Jack smiled contently as Netty began to dig in, and he soon followed.

+++

It was almost nine and Jack began to get ready for Bitty’s phone call. He had cleared the dishes and placed them all in the dishwasher. The leftovers were in the fridge and he remembered there was half a key lime cheesecake in the fridge. Jack took it out, cut a big slice and poured himself a glass of milk.

Jack took a photo of cheesecake and shared it on Instagram. The caption read: A day of doing sweet nothing ends with a sweet something. Wishing @omgcheckplease was here.

He stood at the kitchen counter and dug in; each bite delicious and sweet, reminding him of Bitty in every possible way.

He took another forkful of cheesecake and finally looked at his Instagram notifications. Jack did a triple take—he had so many likes and comments, he didn’t even know where to begin. So many were from strangers, too. It was a little overwhelming, so he decided to just look at comments from people he knew.

rubenalmanzoSM: Well done @jlzimmermann1

bsknightESQ: Brah! When you cooking for me? Did you ever know that you’re my hero??

derekmailknurse: I’ll get you some Stumptown beans. #chemexforlife

AliciaZimmermannProd: Look at you! On Instagram.

thelarissaduan: I told Shits I would not chirp. (Even though I really want to. Esp. with that bed pic, dude.) #softbro

omgcheckplease: I love this... and you.

Jack closed Instagram and yawned as he made his way to the bedroom. He pulled his laptop into bed and at nine opened up Skype and called Bitty.

Bitty’s face appeared, looking sleepy and tired, but smiling brightly the instant he saw Jack.

“Hey, there, handsome.”

Bitty was in his bedroom, in bed, with his back against the headboard.

“Bits,” Jack said.

He turned onto his side and rested his head on the crook of his arm. The laptop sat on the mattress next to him.

“You are the sweetest, most beautiful boy in the entire world.”

“Am I?”

“You are! I saw all of your Insta posts.”

Jack could feel himself blush.

“They weren’t too… boring?”

“No! I love them! They were lovely.”

“They were all for you,” Jack said softly.

“I know.”

Bitty reached out to touch the screen and Jack immediately did the same.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“I swear Jack, I thought I was going to have to break up some fisticuffs between Mama and Aunt Marlene.”

Jack chuckled. “That bad, eh?”

“The worst. I’m so glad I’m coming home the day after tomorrow. Poor Coach was basically like, ‘Save yourself, son!’”

“I miss your face,” Jack said simply and unguarded.

“Lord, I miss yours too. So much…”

The two looked at each other as if they had nowhere else in the world they’d rather be.

“So, how was your day? It looked pretty nice from what I saw,” Bitty said as he finally spoke.

“It was. I did a little nothing, all day.”

“And my little strudel?”

“She helped. Turns out she’s a pro at it.”

Bitty chuckled. “I love it. And how was it?”

Several years ago, Jack was in his therapist’s waiting room and was idly leafing through a copy of Psychology Today when he came across an article that made him pause. He began to read it, and at the time found it to be completely absurd. The article was about la dolce far niente, or the sweetness of doing nothing.

“Maybe you sit and read a book. Maybe you stare out the window or balcony and listen to your favorite musician,” the article read. “What can you do today to begin doing nothing?”

Jack frowned as he read, not understanding what was so great about remaining idle. It wasn’t until he began a relationship with Bitty that he truly understood what doing nothing could mean. They could do nothing while they snuggled in bed, they could do nothing while they sat on the couch as the rain poured outside as Bitty slowly ran his fingers through Jack’s hair.

Nothing with Bitty came to mean everything to Jack, and soon Jack began to appreciate doing nothing by himself. He understood that he didn’t have to be “on,” all the time. 95% was okay. La dolce far niente.

“Well?” Bitty asked again.

“It was sweet, Bits,” Jack replied with a smile. “Very sweet.”

#bittyjack #bv2020 #bitty's valentines #omgcp fandom #omg check please!

94 notes · View notes

feferipeixes · 4 years

Text

Grapefruit Juice

For @skia-oura. You know what you did.

(on AO3)

It was a quiet morning when Bentley awoke, nestled in between Dipper and Torako. Dipper was curled up in the fetal position, forehead resting on Bentley’s shoulder, a clawed hand caressing his other shoulder, little Z’s floating above the demon’s head. Torako, on the other hand, was practically lying on top of him, spread-eagled and snoring loudly. A small smile spread across Bentley’s sleepy face. It felt so nice, in a weird way he didn’t know how to express. He loved waking up next to those two dorks. It felt safe to be with them.

Also, the fact that they were sleeping meant they weren’t wreaking havoc, which was always a plus.

A glance at the alarm clock -- it was early. Too early to really start the day, but too late to get back to sleep. He carefully extracted himself from the bed, making sure not to wake either of his roommates up. Tiptoeing out of the room like a cartoon character, he eased the door shut and then proceeded to the kitchen.

He opened the cupboard to look for something to eat for breakfast. The box of Moffios immediately stuck out to him -- he noticed that the sigil preventing it from being touched was almost worn away. Either Torako had been scratching it out or she’d made some sort of deal with Dipper. He quickly re-inscribed the symbol, and the box took on a glittery sheen indicating that it’d sting any fingers who tried to take it. That should keep her away from it for a few more days.

He grabbed his favorite almond-based caffeinated cereal and closed the cupboard. Setting the box of Nutty Tweaks down on the table, he fetched a bowl and looked through the fridge for something to drink. His usual box of orange juice was nowhere to be found. Bentley rolled his eyes -- no doubt his doofus brother finished it off and forgot to put it on the shopping list. Looked like he was eating dry tweaks that morning.

Except...

In the back of the fridge, he glimpsed a bottle of pink juice. He pulled it out and looked it over for a label. Nothing. It was probably the weird old-timey juice that Dipper would import from Australia, which was apparently the only remaining place where it was made. With a glint in his eye, Bentley poured himself a glass. If Dipper was going to drink all of his juice, he’d just have to return the favor.

His revenge at hand, Bentley sat at the table and started spooning crunchy almonds into his mouth. He considered the box’s promise to get anyone who eats the cereal “absolutely shredded” with “ham wild muscles” and “disgustingly feral abs”. He wondered if people really fell for that kind of marketing. At any rate, it didn’t affect him. He just liked almonds. And caffeine.

...although if he Did happen to get stronger from eating cereal, he wouldn’t complain. He’d be able to draw longer-lasting sigils if he could cut deeper into a surface.

Cereal consumed, Bentley raised the glass of juice to his lips. He briefly wondered whether it really was such a good idea to drink a demon’s juice -- for all he knew, it wasn’t actually juice but rather distilled insanity with blood mixed in (for taste). The promise of vengeance was too much to pass up, though, and he took a small sip.

And then downed the entire glass.

Whatever that stuff was, it was delicious. Weirdly tart with a sweet aftertaste. He’d never tasted anything like it -- no wonder Dipper went to such great lengths to obtain it. Before he knew it, Bentley had drunk the entire bottle. Surveying the casualties of his breakfast, he felt a small seed of guilt sprout within him, but he quickly brushed it away. It’s only what Dipper deserved for drinking all the orange juice.

Out of nowhere, the bedroom door slammed open with enough force to shake the room. Salt and pepper shakers spilled onto the counter. A clock fell off the wall and shattered on the floor. Bentley felt the chair he was sitting on jump a foot off the ground, and his arms shot out instinctively to grab the table so he wouldn’t fall over. Disoriented, it took him a moment to parse what was happening. Then he saw Torako standing in the doorway with a crazed look on her face, and immediately knew his peaceful morning was over.

“Bentley!” she yelled, gesticulating wildly. “You’re eating breakfast? Without meeeee?”

“You were asleep!” he countered. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

He shrank into his chair as she stomped over to him, hands on hips, hair matted and messy. She picked up the cereal box and broke into a mischievous grin. “Bentley’s Getting Buff, I see.” She cackled and tossed the box aside, sprinkling almonds across the kitchen.

“Stop! I just cleaned the apartment yesterday!”

Ignoring him, she picked up the empty juice bottle on the table and examined it while Bentley eyed her suspiciously. It was very likely she’d pick Dipper’s side if a revenge battle broke out because the two of them combined were an unstoppable chaos machine. He had to get her off the topic of breakfast, quick.

“Hey, Tora,” he said carefully. “I was thinking about re-dyeing my hair. Did you wanna...”

Torako cut him off by screaming at the top of her lungs. Bentley winced and clapped his hands to his ears. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed. “You’re going to wake up the entire building!”

“Did you drink Dipper’s grapefruit juice????” she screeched.

Bentley shrank into his chair again. “Maybe. But he deserved it.” He glanced at the open bedroom door, curious about the fact that Dipper hadn’t come out yet to see what was going on. Maybe he’d been summoned.

“Oh NO Ben, this is BAD,” Torako continued to yell. “Holy shit holy shit HOLY SHIT!”

Bentley started edging away from her. “Is something happening right now? Am I missing something?”

She tore her gaze away from the bottle and stared him directly in the eyes, radiating such delirium that it was almost nauseating to look at. She hurled the bottle into the ground as hard as she could, and it broke through the floor into the next apartment down. Before he could object to this, she grabbed him by the shirt collar and shrieked, “BENTLEY you’re gonna DIE, that was GRAPEFRUIT JUICE, don’t you KNOW, it’s gonna make your ANTIDEPRESSANTS EXPLODE IN YOUR BRAIN!”

He gaped at her. “What are you talking abouuuu- !” He yelped as Torako effortlessly lifted him up and wrapped him over her shoulders. He tried in vain to wriggle free of her grip, but she was much stronger than him. “Let go of me!”

“Hello? Hospital?” Bentley stopped flailing to see Torako talking into a phone wedged between her head and her shoulder that couldn’t possibly have been there more than a second ago. “Yes, hospital! Please come quick! We have a serious case of genius boy brain burst! Oh stars, I can’t do this!” She dropped the phone and started sobbing, prompting Bentley’s anxiety to shoot through the roof.

“Tora? Are you okay? I’m really worried.” Not about himself, because he was pretty sure his brain was not about to explode from drinking juice, but even in her most trickster of moments Torako had never acted like this before and it was freaking him out. “Is this part of a prank or are you... really having some kind of breakdown right now? If this is real then I need to know so I can help.”

“You’re the one who needs help, you poor thing.” She laid him down on a stretcher and patted him on the head. “It’s gonna be okay! The hospital people will save you! They’ll take you to the juicer from Willy Wonka and everything will be okay!”

“What’s Willy Wonka?” Bentley yelled as he was pulled away on the stretcher. He watched Torako get smaller and smaller before finally fading away into the distance. Exhausted, he put his head down and stared up at the inky black ceiling of the ambulance. “This is so annoying. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I need to bust out of here.”

“Please don’t,” Philip said. Bentley’s eyes boggled at the sight of his father steering the ambulance. He gave his son a wink before turning back to face the road. “I’d have to chase you down or I’ll get fired, and I can’t do that. You’re so much faster than me now.”

“Dad?” Bentley breathed. “Why are you driving an ambulance? When did you -- you’re not supposed to -- isn’t it late?”

There was a sigh from the front seat. “Sorry, Bentley, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way, when you’re about to die from grapefruit overdose, but it’s true. I wasn’t making enough money doodling little hearts on pictures of your very handsome roommate. I had to pick up some odd jobs to make ends meet.”

“You what now?”

“It’s shameful, I know.” Philip’s head smacked down onto the steering wheel, and the ambulance started swerving wildly around on the road. “In a perfect world, we’d all be able to sit around and talk about demons all day without worrying about rent or food, but we don’t live in a perfect world and it’s my job as a father to break that to you. I’m so sorry.”

Bentley opened his mouth to respond, but faltered when he heard a hiccup. He flipped over onto his stomach to see his father weeping softly onto the steering wheel. Alarm bells rang in his head. “Dad, please don’t cry. It’s alright.” He attempted to undo the straps holding him on the stretcher, but they only seemed to get tighter. “We can talk about this. Please don’t cry.”

He reached out to him, his fingers gently brushing up against the driver’s seat, hoping that his father would sense his presence and take his hand. But it never came. There was a jerking sensation from beneath him as the conveyor belt activated, and the stretcher started moving away from the ambulance.

“Dad?” Bentley called, his voice heavy with reverberation. “Dad, don’t leave!”

No response. The sound of weeping faded away, and Bentley felt a pit settle in his stomach. He looked around and saw that he was rolling slowly on a track that ran through a landscape of stars. A row of doctors stared at him with blurry faces from behind a glass partition. Half of them gasped as he went by. The other half just looked disappointed, shaking their heads or crossing their arms.

“It’s… the Grapefruit Juice Boy,” one of them choked out.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” he yelled, scowling. “This -- okay, I’m getting suspicious now! Am I dreaming? Is this what a dream that isn’t a nightmare is like? It sucks!”

The conveyor stuttered to a halt and the doctors all vanished. Bentley blinked, and realized he was in a dentist’s office. A pair of hands pulled a paper bib around his neck, and his scowl deepened. “Now what’s going on? I thought this dream was about medication interactions! Why am I at the dentist now?”

“Grapefruit juice is really sugary,” came a voice from behind him. “Your teeth are gonna fall out.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Bentley raged. “My roommates constantly pour sugar into every orifice on their faces, but I have a stress dream about the dentist because I drank a bottle of juice. I’d like to see Torako and Dip- hey wait a minute!” He cut off as the familiarity of the dentist’s voice hit him. The hands appeared again, putting a second bib on him, and Bentley noticed the fingers were tipped with claws. He struggled to tilt his head back, and caught a glint of light off the razor sharp teeth in the dentist’s grin.

“Hi Bentley,” Dipper said.

“Dipper? Why are you the dentist?” He collapsed back into the dentist’s chair and let his limbs fall limp over the sides. “Why are dreams like this? Is there some deep meaning behind all of this? I’d almost prefer the nightmares to Dipper cleaning my teeth.”

“Hey now,” Dipper pouted, putting a third bib around Bentley’s neck. “Maybe I’m really good at dental work. You know how hard flossing is with teeth like this?”

Bentley scratched his head. “Um, I guess not. But then why would I dream- hey wait a minute. Are you a dream Dipper or the real one?”

Dipper dropped the fourth bib he was holding and stepped back, bumping into a table of dental equipment. “Uhhhhh. Dream Dipper, definitely. Your brain just loves thinking about me. That’s it.”

The scowl returned to Bentley’s face in full-force. Sitting up, he tore the bibs off his neck and stared his roommate right in his dumb evil eyes. “It is the real you! What are you doing in my dream? This is all your fault, isn’t it?”

The demon smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Haha, well, uh, yeah sort of. Technically it’s Torako’s fault. This was all her idea, but I’m the one with the dream magic, so it just made sense, like oh who’s gonna keep Bentley in a weird dream so that he sleeps in today, Dipper obviously, and -”

Swinging his legs off the table, Bentley stood up for the first time in what felt like ages, and marched over shakily as Dipper backed away. “You trapped me in a crazy dream world??”

“No! Not really!” Dipper raised his arms, looking panicked. “I mean, okay, I made parts of it, but mostly all I did was stop you from waking up earlier! Sometimes people just have weird dreams, Ben! It’s a natural part of life for your species!”

“I’m putting wards all over the bedroom when I wake up. Why did you do this??”

Dipper shrank down to his 12-year old form and tried his best to look innocent. “No reason at all! You just looked like you needed some sleep! It definitely wasn’t that Torako needed time to break the sigil you made to prevent her from touching the box of Moffios!”

“Oh my stars Torako. This is ridiculous.” Bentley stared at his hands, picturing them each grasping one of his roommates’ hands, thinking about how that was definitely not going to be happening again for two weeks at minimum. “Does this at least mean you didn’t actually finish off my orange juice?”

Dipper giggled nervously. “Yeah, about that...”

Bentley facepalmed. “Wake me up. Right now.”

“Well, uh, you see,” Dipper replied, squirming, “it’s like, there’s a time limit on the deal I made with Torako, and yknow how it is...”

“If you don’t wake me up this instant, you’re gonna have a lot more to worry about than whether or not you’re getting cuddles ever again. I’ll have my dad over for dinner every single night and he’ll ask you every uncomfortable question under the sun! Do you hear me?”

Dipper blanched. “Yes sir, right away sir!” he babbled, standing up straight and saluting. He snapped his fingers, and the world fell away.

Bentley shot upright in bed, the sounds of squealing floating in from the kitchen. He jumped out from the covers, sprinting past the ashamed-looking demon at the door, to see Torako kneeling on the kitchen counter, jabbing at the box of Moffios with a dinner knife.

“Torako! No!” he hollered, racing after her. “I’m never buying Moffios again!”

Her eyes grew big as dinner plates and she took off with the box, running around the table to get away from him. “Bentley! You’re awake! Uh… this isn’t what it looks like!”

“It looks like I’m changing the locks is what it looks like!”

“Dipper!” she cried as she passed the demon, who was watching the scene looking half-concerned and half-amused. “You said you’d keep him busy! We had a deal!”

“He figured it out!” Dipper cried back. “I knew he’d be too smart to fall for this!”

“I’m coming for you next, jerkface!” Bentley roared.

The sounds of screaming and furniture toppling over filled the apartment. The people in the apartment immediately below them hesitated before calling the landlord to complain about the noise. It was, after all, not much worse than Saturdays usually were in the Pines-Lam-Farkas household.

----

A bright ray of sunlight beamed through a crack in the curtains and directly onto Torako’s face, waking her up. She shifted, trying to find a comfortable position amidst the lumpy couch cushions, but eventually resigned to her fate and opened her eyes. She was in the living room, of course, because Bentley hadn’t let her sleep in his room for a week now, which was just a little bit of an excessive punishment if you asked her! All of this and she didn’t even get any Moffios. The sheer injustice of it all.

Sitting up, she yawned and surveyed the room. She scratched her head as she looked for Dipper. He’d been sleeping on the floor next to her since they’d both been exiled from Bentley’s room, but the demon was presently nowhere to be seen, which was strange. He must’ve had an early morning summons. Oh well.

She headed over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. If she wasn’t allowed to have Moffios, she’d at least have something sweet to drink for breakfast. She grabbed the box of orange juice, flipped off the lid, and started chugging it directly from the carton. When it was all done, she collapsed into a chair with a large grin. Just what she needed to start the day.

“TORAKO!” Dipper yelled out of nowhere, blipping into reality directly beside her. “Did you drink my grapefruit juice?”

She yelped and fell out of her chair. “What? No, this is Bentley’s oran-” She lifted her hand, still holding the empty box of juice, but trailed off when she realized she was actually holding a clear bottle with a small amount of pink liquid left inside. She stared at it in shock, then at Dipper who looked equally as horrified. “What? But, I -”

“Torako, you’re gonna DIE!” Dipper screamed, suddenly wearing a nurse’s outfit and pushing her down the hall on a hospital bed. “Your MEDS are gonna EXPLODE in your BRAIN!”

“Noooooo!” she shrieked, flailing around as her parents jogged up beside the bed and waved at her while sobbing. “Bentley was right! This is awful!”

In the real world, Bentley was in the kitchen, applying the finishing touches on a new Moffios-protecting sigil that would last eight times as long. He heard Torako yelling in her sleep from across the room and smiled. “Yeah, it is,” he muttered, walking over. “Next time you’ll think twice before you try something like that on me.”

“Um… do you think she’s had enough?” Dipper asked from his position on the floor. He had his hand on Torako’s head, and when he looked up Bentley could see Torako’s dream reflected in the demon’s eyes. She’d somehow managed to wriggle free of the straps on the bed and was running down a highway in only a hospital gown, being pursued by a fleet of ambulances. “She admitted defeat.”

Bentley sat on the edge of the couch and seemed to consider it. “Yeah,” he said finally. “You can wake her up.”

Dipper nodded, and removed his hand from Torako’s head. She gasped and her eyes flew open, looking in all directions before making eye contact with Bentley. She leapt off the sofa and backed against the wall.

“Sorry, Ben! I’ll never Dip into your dreams ever again!”

Bentley sniffed. “Sounds about right. And you?” He turned to Dipper, who looked similarly panicked under Bentley’s purview.

“And I promise I’ll only side with Torako sometimes instead of all the time!” he offered, backing up beside Torako. “Also not to go into your dreams ever unless I really need to, which I totally won’t take advantage of ever!”

“Good. I’m glad we had this talk.” Bentley stood up. “Do either of you want breakfast?”

“NO!” Dipper and Torako both screamed, scampering away at full speed. They ran into the bedroom, dove under the covers, and clutched each other tight. “Never again!”

“Suit yourself,” Bentley said, trying out the shoulder up-and-down thing that Dipper always did to express indifference. He pulled the bedroom door shut and just stood there for a bit, reflecting on the day’s events. Then he walked over to the kitchen, poured himself a bowl of Nutty Tweaks, and took a seat by the window so he could watch the snow fall as he ate.

It really was a very peaceful morning.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #bentley farkas #torako lam #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #fic #my stuff #this is very silly #and based on a dream i had #and also based on wanting to drive kass up the wall #ur welcome 💝

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 16

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15

*adele voice* hello, it’s meeeee i was wondering if after all this time you’d like to reeeaaad. AHEM, in other words, thank you for reading, you lot mean a lot to me :’)

“I saw the cops on campus this morning.” Strands of hair escaped her haphazard ponytail, and she blew it out of her face. “You should really do this once a week so it doesn’t get so nasty,” she muttered, tone completely changing. She missed my shrug as she bent on her knees, foraging under the sink.

All signs of Harry had been removed since the night before, besides the faint clean scent lingering on the pillow. But even that was fading from my mom’s trigger happy Febreezing. Harry had snuck out earlier than me, just sending a text saying he had an early before-game practice.

“Mom, you really don’t have to clean this up.”

She ignored me for the upteenth time, pulling out Clorox wipes and focusing all her strength on the built-up gunk on the counter. “At least take turns or something. You do one week, Renny does the other.”

Tap Ramen must have been made by people who knew most college kids couldn’t afford more than a coffee and dehydrated noodles - on a good day. I slurped up the artificial chicken flavor and winced as the scalding water dribbled on my chin, some falling on the carpet. We cleaned whenever we could. But recently I’d been swamped and had zero motivation for any extra obligations, much less for cleaning. Renny just… didn’t. I think Renny saw a broom once, and hid it further out of reach.

More Clorox wipes were drawn and she moved to the sink.

“What were you going to say about the cops?” I asked.

“Oh, right.” She pushed back her hair with the back of her hand. “It was kind of weird. Do you know if anything’s happened?”

I offered her a bite of my ramen. She shook her head, sweat beads lining her forehead.

“Okay” - I tried to explain between chunks of noodle what was happening, but she made me swallow and start over. “Supposedly there’s some kind of gang that’s been tagging the walls around school. We woke up to an e-mail today and I guess they tagged the courtyard last night. There’s a game later though.”

“That’s frightening...”

“I think that’s why the cops are here. Extra security to make sure everyone feels safe.”

“Freaky.” She waited for me to say I agreed with her, that this was random and unexpected, but I didn’t. Fear lingered in her eyes, and I knew a couple of cops didn’t make her feel any better. In a second, she pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. “I just want my angel to be safe.”

My eyes closed, wishing it could be as simple as it was when I was a kid. When she could hold me tight, and tell me good guys always won - and I believed her. “Thanks momma.”

She gripped both my arms when she pulled back. “You don’t have any plans for next weekend right?”

I knew that tone. Some mandatory event was coming up and the thought of another something to do hurt my head. Midterms were over, but with sorority meetings, soccer games, and Zayn’s art project, I still needed to get caught up grading papers for Dr. Rhinecuff and write my own. There were only so many descriptions of the Krebs cycle I could read before the red pen sounded more appealing lodged in my eye. I rubbed my temple. “Mooooom.”

“What?” Her hand cradled my own that gripped my head, scared something was wrong.

How could I tell her I didn’t want to do whatever she was going to tell me? “I feel like I’m always doing something.” Another scalding bite of soup burned my mouth and I cringed.

“I know, but-”

“I just haven’t been given a second to myself to breathe!”

She flinched, retracting her hands. “Your brother’s coming into town.”

I faltered as she handed me her phone, bypassing her screensaver of Harry and I at the gala to pull up the text.

She wasn’t joking.

“Did he say why…?” I managed to mumble, half-fanning my mouth, trying to salvage whatever taste buds had survived my voluntary attack.

“He has a conference in Irvine. But he’s also family. He doesn’t always need a reason to come and visit us.”

I almost snorted but covered it with a cough for her sake. “Doesn’t he though?”

“Y/N!” she scolded.

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right.”

A sort of sadness filled her voice. “I know we barely see him, but he’s still my son.”

The words hung in the air. The fact that she needed to state something like that startled me more than I thought it would. She had two children, but one of them was more a stranger. We saw him maybe once or twice a year for a conference, Christmas if we were lucky. While her son was a stranger, her daughter was turning more unrecognizable every day. I softened. It wasn’t her fault she pushed out a numbers-chasing robot of a human.

“So you’re coming to dinner,” she said. The slight sheen in her eyes disappeared as she bat her lashes, a determined gleam taking its place.

I guess sometimes you couldn’t choose your family.

------

You also couldn’t replace the comfort of mom with a chai almond milk latte, but a girl could try.

My phone buzzed and I tried to ignore the way I deflated when it was Renny.

Can you bring me a lowfat latte I’m dyyyyinnnggg

Somehow, using her ridiculous charms and guiles, Renny had gotten the professor to allow her to turn in her essay a week late after spewing some story about how she was so overwhelmed from the stress of school and tonsillitis.

My phone buzzed again and I couldn’t help but snort at the dark moon emoji Renny added. The tall basketball player in front of me turned around, and I ducked my head down, clearing my throat. Shady moon emoji = the funniest emoji EVER, as verified by Renny and yours truly. Also worked as our code for beyond the world of the living. Running off two hours of sleep? Shady moon emoji. Just ran into your ex? Shady moon emoji. Well, I didn’t have any exes. But Renny definitely got some use out of that scenario.

I picked up our lattes, heading out the door. Renny was probably sitting with her head on her laptop cursing the extended deadline which only meant extended procrastination.

“Excuse me, miss!”

I stalled at the sound of authority. I could turn around, or keep walking. Unfortunately, I chose the former.

Rogue Cop from the frat house walked towards me, stalling a few feet away. “Do you have a moment.”

But it wasn’t a question. I nodded, and he pulled me aside to the grassy courtyard where kids rushed from one class to another. From the Starbucks patio, I felt eyes peering over laptops watching as he crossed his arms, his eyes unreadable behind black sunglasses. This was very… public.

“I was just on my way to your room, actually, so I’m glad I caught you. I have a few more questions.”

His name badge reflected in the sun, blinding me for a moment. Officer Ramirez. I’d shoved his card deep in my dresser drawer, but I hadn’t thrown it away.

“How do you know the Styles family?”

I shrugged. “I have a class with Harry. We were studying for our midterm together the other day.”

“Did you attend their family’s charity gala?”

Something told me he already knew the answer. I nodded.

“What happened that night?”

“I don’t know the full details of it, but when everyone was inside the auction room, the- I guess… I saw their family portrait was stolen.”

“How did you come to see that?”

“Mrs. Styles screamed. Everyone saw it, I just rushed to the sound like everyone else.”

“Did you see the image that was on the wall.”

Obviously.

“Yes?” I swallowed, hating how nerves warped it into a question as the conversation twisted.

“Can you remember anything else about the time you saw the symbol at Kean’s? Where was it, when was it…? Anything you can remember could help us in a big way.”

My eyes flitted to passerbys, each one turning to look at us once. Some had their phones out, probably zooming in for Snapchat or to message concerned parents. I hid further behind Officer Ramirez’s frame.

“It was a tattoo. On the back of the wrist.” My voice wavered, unwanted adrenaline making my body tremble from the inside-out. “Sometime in September.”

“Would you be able to recognize this person if we showed you him?”

“No. It was dark, and they were wearing a hoodie. I couldn’t see their face.”

“How many were there?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said they. How many did you see with the tattoo?”

“Only one. Outside the shop. But he was with a friend. He was shorter.” A shaky hand raised to tuck some hair behind my ear. He noticed.

“Did you speak to them?”

“They didn’t hurt me!”

My outburst caught him off-guard. He inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. Even his breath was calculated. “I see.” He rubbed the stubble beneath his chin, looking at the two drinks in my hand. “If there was anything that happened, it’s okay to tell me. It would only help us.”

“I just saw one tattoo.”

But even I could tell my voice was weak. He nodded, unconvinced, but I knew that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to prove his suspicion right.

“Thank you for your time.”

I nodded, taking this as an opportunity to walk away.

“As you know,” he called out, waiting for me to stop before continuing. “The gang tagged the school grounds this morning. Their tags are moving towards the coast, outside of their normal range, so just be aware of your surroundings. Notice the people around you.” He spoke like a father, but beyond the sunglasses was still a cop, and I knew he was dissecting my poker face for any sign of a flinch.

“Always.” And even I was impressed with how confident how I sounded.

I turned around, closing my eyes, and pretended for a second I was sinking into the earth, the cool dirt covering my body and hiding me from the world instead of my alternative. That when I opened my eyes, the world would be too close, looking at me, gossiping about me, wondering about me.

The random girl who talks to Harry now turned into the random girl who talks to the cops. That had a spicy ring to it, but I wondered how much the two went hand in hand.

I tossed the cooled lattes in the nearest trash can, shooting Renny a text.

Sorry. Line was too long.

------

I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. But I think I was used to that now. Later in the art studio, Zayn put down his brushes. He cleared his throat, and I stirred on the chair, ripped from my reverie.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s all over your face. So it’s all over the canvas.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, cringing at how the words flew out of my mouth so easily. I shouldn’t apologize so much.

He mulled something over in his mind until the annoyingly familiar look of pity appeared. I looked away from his soft eyes, out towards the window, trying to escape the sadness he reflected back to me.

Harry was right.

I didn’t like the way he saw things.

--------

“Well you never, ever, EVER have to do that again.”

I looked to Renny, one brow arched as she shoved a fry in my mouth. “One, because it was your last session. But TWO, and most important… because I will model for Zayn next time.” She made a silly face and raised her eyebrows. From the field, the band started to play at that exact moment and she burst out laughing. I smiled, glad she was enjoying herself.

We stood by the locker rooms, waiting for the boys to get a spare moment to give us their extra jerseys.

“Would you ever think that we’d both be dating guys on the soccer team?” she mused.

I gave her a look.

“Or whatever it is you and Harry are doing. It’s crazy, right?”

If you told me two months ago that the guy who’d walked into class with a black eye would be the guy I was waiting on now, I’d laugh. If you then proceeded to tell me this man was Harry Styles, I’d stop laughing and say you should never be a comedian because your jokes were too far from reality.

“Crazy,” I agreed, eyes bulging out of my head for emphasis.

“W’as so crazy girls?” Niall strolled out, arms spread open with the jersey tossed over his shoulder. Renny jumped on him, legs wrapping around his waist as if there was some kind of magnetic pull attached to their hips. Harry wasn’t too far behind and gave me a head nod. I felt my own pull.

I came up to him, suddenly feeling a little dumb for having asked for this in the first place. This was normal, though, right? Totally normal? He beckoned me a little further away around the corner from Niall and Renny who were already pressed up against the wall. Neither of us wanted to see the wordless pep talk she was giving him.

“Right. Arms up,” he ordered.

I scoffed at his smug smile, but didn’t argue, putting up my arms. I looked him dead in the eye as he aligned the jersey with my hands. The places his skin brushed mine made my hair stand on end, aware of each goosebump that was now so delicately close to him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to take off what I’m wearing first?” I mocked.

He paused, looking at me as he tugged the jersey down a little more aggressively than necessary.

With the jersey on, he watched while I fixed my hair. “M’not into public showings.”

“I was kidding,” I mumbled.

“I don’t think you were.”

“I was!”

Scrutinous eyes appraised my flustered state, and he fought a smirk. His voice was velvet, suddenly Mr. Seduction. “You don’t have to deny yourself with me.” His fingers looped through my jeans’ belt loops, tugging me closer. Our hips touched, but when I thought he was going in for a kiss, he bit the tip of my nose instead.

“Who are you???” I flinched, but before I could say anything more he gently pushed me back so he could get a good look at me. The whiplash from being close to him had me reeling. I hesitated before doing a spin.

His lips pursed before breaking into a smile. “Waited a while to see this.”

“Worth the wait?” My confidence faltered as he scanned over my body, up the curve in my legs and the rise of my chest, until he searched my face, finding some hidden meaning in my words again.

“I’d bet on it.”

I couldn’t meet the intensity of his gaze, so I looked to his own jersey. “We’re matching.”

“I’m a little offended.”

“Why?”

“I think you wear it better than me.”

He winced as I hit him on the shoulder. “Who turned you so cheesy.”

“Oi! Offense!”

From around the corner, Niall peaked his head around. “We got two minutes, mate.”

I hid my frown from Harry as he turned to Niall, the sharp edge of his jawline made more prominent from the fluorescent lights above us. Parts of him were shadowed, and when he yelled fuck off to Niall (big smile, just banter), I noticed even his neck was attractive.

I laughed, absolutely ridiculous, and he turned to me.

“W’as so funny?”

I didn’t say anything as his hands snuck around my waist to pull me in again. But I don’t think I needed to say anything. Slowly, I leant up to his perfectly tousled curls instead, resting my forehead against his, hoping to keep this feeling locked in forever. The softest sigh escaped him.

“Did you hear about what happened last night?” he asked, softly.

“Yeah.” I opened my eyes, but his were still closed.

He hummed, tugging gently on my jersey. “You don’t have to wear this if you don’t want to.”

“Heyyy, you said you wanted to make me happy.” I nudged my nose against his, and he smiled. There it was. That’s what I wanted.

“I want you to be safe.” His brows stitched and the smile fell again. Just like that.

I pulled back, but his hands stayed firm, keeping me tight against him. The gang had been on campus. Kean’s wasn’t too far away, but a marking here was a clear breach of territory. If I was worried, that was one thing. But if Harry was worried, I was terrified.

“Stop that.” He saw my spiralling thoughts and snapped me back to the present, gently lifting my chin. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“I just don’t know what they want. You can’t promise me that it’s going to be okay.”

“Fair... but I’m a strong boy, Y/N.”

“Yeah well I don’t necessarily have as many muscles as you.”

There were dark circles under his eyes and a sleepy smile on his lips. Somehow, he was going to be strong enough to go out on the field and give it his all. It took all the energy in the world for me to get out of bed this morning, let alone run a field fifty times over. “I’m going to make sure you don’t have to use any of them,” he promised, looking over his shoulder. He backed me up against the wall, back blocking us to any invasive eyes.

“How do you do it?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“How can you be so confident… and just ready, all the time?”

The roar of the crowd picked up as the announcer spoke. He’d have to leave soon. He’d go out there with the strength and infallibility he proved each game. He’d use all of the world’s bullshit as fuel to win.

But right now, he was outside the public eye.

Right now, his stubble tickled my jaw as he ran his mouth to my ear.

“Cos I’m a damn good liar.” He dipped his mouth lower, placing a kiss on that sensitive spot that made my breath hitch. His lips were light, but a hard knick of his teeth tugged on the smooth skin. The softest breath escaped me, but he heard it. I knew he did. He’d started gentle, but as soon as the breath was out he pulled harder on my skin, nibbling, sucking, the stubble scratching deliciously against my neck, desperate to hear the sound again. And again. My back arched from the pressure, pressing my body closer as he turned me to a panting mess. He was enjoying this as much as I was, I could feel him grow against my thigh, and I wanted nothing more than to drag him into the locker room and see every inch of him.

He pulled away too soon, hair disheveled, and a satisfied smirk on his face.

“I thought you weren’t into public displays?” I asked, breathlessly.

“That wasn't a display.” His fingers traced my bottom lip, mesmerizing himself with how his thumb slid down, my lip running with it until it slid back up. “That was a warning.” He smirked, turning on his cleats, looking back just as my hand covered the tingling patch on my neck.

“If they fuck with you, they fuck with me.” He shrugged, walking backwards, naughty schoolboy grin lasting but a moment before he disappeared around the corner.

I scoffed, wanting to pound my fists against the wall for having been left by him again!! Being sucked and dumped… again!!!

At least Renny was high on cloud 10000. All she could talk about was how good Niall was at kissing, and in the sheets, and UGH she just wanted to rip off his jersey and DO HIM RIGHT NOW. She shook me vigorously to get her point across. At least that was one frustration we could agree on.

Once in the soccer stadium, we struggled to find a free space in the stands. The Panthers had basically secured their rankings, and now the stands were full twice a week to see how long this winning streak could go. We looked like deer in the headlights scanning the sea of faces until we saw a platinum bob bouncing up and down. “Y/N!!” Gemma shouted, but we could only read her lips.

We pushed our way through the crowd, almost impossible to get down the aisle as everyone stood up in a cheer. I tossed a look back - the team had rushed onto the field. Harry was in the front, repeatedly lifting up his hands to the crowd. Scream louder. And they did.

Renny nudged me further up the stands, and I followed her gaze to the DGS - Viv, Karli, Shelby and others faces of their clan. I couldn’t see Lynn. I squinted harder. She was probably there somewhereeeee- WELP. Viv caught me staring. I ducked lower behind the stranger I was trying to pass. She shouldn’t be able to see me, but I could still feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my jersey with Harry’s giant #13 impossible to miss.

Frickity. Frickity. Frack.

“Should we sit with them?” Renny asked, barely dodging the slosh of beer from someone raising their arm a little too vigorously.

“HA! I’m good. You can though.”

I finally smooshed my way past everyone, practically falling in Gemma’s lap with Renny not too far behind.

Gemma looked at the hickey briefly, but was polite enough to not mention anything. I didn’t have a mirror with me, but if how it was stinging was any judge of size, it was way bigger than a quarter. When the halftime show was on and the band was playing, Renny left for the DGs. She squeezed my hand. “I’m only going to say hi. I’ll come back.” I smiled, nodded, but I knew she wouldn’t.

The thing was, I didn’t mind Gemma’s company. At all actually. If we hadn’t seen her, I would’ve been forced to mingle, and I didn’t want to think about forcing conversation right now. I didn’t want to think about much of anything. Compared to Harry’s dark enigma, Gemma was a breath of cool light. A little reserved, sure, but not shy. And she wouldn’t press me into talking when I didn’t want to.

“Where’s Charlie?” I asked.

“Left. He had work in England. Life across the pond,” she mused. “His was a roundtrip, mine was a one-way, but I’ll be back by Christmas hopefully.”

Disappointment washed over me. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten attached to the friendly man. How funny the one person who reminded me of my brother leaves the same week my ghost of a brother returns. Could I trade them?

“He didn’t want me to come,” Gemma sighed suddenly. Her hair was drawn back in a fishtail braid, and she picked at the ends.

“Charlie?”

“No. Harry.”

She sat straighter, tossing the braid over her shoulder. “But I think a part of him would’ve been sad if I didn’t. He does that sometimes. Says things he doesn’t mean.” Her eyes were glued to the field.

“Why wouldn’t he want you to come?” My tone was sympathetic. At our sleepover, Harry had said they’d fought, but he hadn’t wanted to discuss it. There wasn’t any way I was going to drag the truth out of him, but maybe Gemma...

She rolled her eyes, irritated. ““Well…” she sighed, clearly not quite sure where to start. Or if she should start at all.

“I won’t tell Harry,” I said, “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, pfft.” She waved her hand, dismissing my comment. “I know it’d come out sooner or later.”

It wasn’t a diss towards me though. I thought of Harry’s invasive eyes and my fiery tongue… and she was right. It probably would have come out. At least the thought had been there.

“I’m just a little worried about him,” she confessed. “I mentioned it’d be nice to have our mother come down and stay a while. There’s plenty of room in that house of theirs, but he’s-”

The roar of the crowd drowned out her words. Harry had scored. I clapped instantly, but it was brief, distracted by Gemma’s words.

“Are his parents cool with...your mom?” It was weird phrasing, and knowing absolutely zero history about their relationship didn’t exactly help. Gemma seemed forgiving, unphased at least.

“Lionel’s...open to it. And Mary-” Gemma looked away, not sure how to describe her. “She’s been gone recently.” She did a sweeping motion above her head. She clearly didn’t mean physical absence. “They’ve been generous to let me and Charlie stay, so I can’t imagine they’d rob Harry of that right to decide for himself.”

“Why doesn’t he want to see her?” I ask, avoiding the Mary topic for now. The flash in her eyes says I’ve asked a little too much. I should feel embarrassed, but she shrugs, hiding it well.

“He hasn’t seen her since he was a child… it’s been a long time.” I remembered Viv telling me Harry was adopted when he was seven the same time Gemma moves a strand of hair from my face like a mother would. She glanced at the exposed hickey. “How’s he been though? S’he seem fine? You probably see him more than me.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a deflection away from revealing anything more about her brother, or blatant curiosity. Perhaps it was a bit of both. I shied away from her touch, not sure how much she knew about Harry and I. Did he tell her anything about me I wonder? Or was I still the “friend” from English class? No matter what kind of tacit understanding we’d shared ever since the cops arrived at the frat house, I didn’t know how far that understanding went in public.

“I see him sometimes,” I admitted. “Between school and the sorority, and Harry having soccer practice all day every day, we study sometimes… I guess-” I shrugged “-I guess I see him enough.” But it wasn’t enough. Not really. Because every minute without him, he lingered stubbornly in the recesses of my mind, and the smallest unrelated thing could remind me of him. Sometimes that reminder was enough. Other times, the giant black t-shirt-wearing sass god that he was in my mind refused to be tucked away and sat on top of everything else - which made it exceedingly hard to concentrate on homework, work, sleep, and anyone that didn’t have curly brown hair and shadowed green eyes. I was already three episodes into the Housewives, and had only seen about two short clips of him.

It didn’t help that I now had photographical evidence he existed.

After seeing my mom’s lockscreen, I studied my favorited photo a little longer. We stood side by side, opulent and regal in my red-wine ball gown and Harry in his black-and-white elegance. I frowned at how I seemed to lean into him a little more than he did into me, but his hand still claimed my waist, fingers dipping lower onto my hip. Our masks hid different truths (or were some the same?). Each time I’d look at it again, I pretended not to have seen the image a dozen times before, opening and closing my eyes as though it’d help me look at it differently… each time, I thought the same.

We looked like we belonged together, the woman in the dress and the man in the tux. We fit.

If you took away the costumes, would it still be true?

“He is a little on-edge,” I continued cautiously. Harry ran across the field, a little slower than usual, and I remembered his reddened eyes. “I think he’s having trouble sleeping.”

She nodded as if this wasn’t a surprise to her. “He didn’t used to.” But it sounded like a question. “Sometimes I think it’d be better if I hadn’t come,” she said it under her breath, but I’d heard it just before the stands collectively groaned. The other team had stolen the ball from Harry and scored.

“Don’t say that, I know he’s happy you’re here.” Though I didn’t, not really. I gave her a gentle squeeze, not sure how else to comfort a friendly acquaintance.

She wiped her hands down her face and when they fell in her lap, she’d shaken whatever it was that was bothering her. “You’re right. Maybe.” Then, a quizzical look took over. “Has Harry told you anything?”

I shook my head. “He just said you got in a fight. Didn’t tell me about what though.”

She took out popcorn she’d hid in her purse, sly smile saying something she wouldn’t. “He must really like you.” She still had that knowing smile when she erupted in a cheer, standing to clap with the rest of the stadium.

We’d won. Everyone’s phones lifted high in the air, recording the mania they’d all been expecting. Flashes, little bulbs of light, captured pictures of happy college students and their victorious team. The videos would be one of many posted to Instagram stories, along with those from the after parties.

A crawling feeling drew up my spine. I looked around, expecting to be the subject of somebody’s photograph. Ridiculous, because I didn’t find anybody zooming into my face. No one was watching me, I reminded myself. But still, the feeling lingered.

In the crowd, Matt stood taller than the rest. He flashed his all-American smile, jumping up and down with his other basketball friends. When he saw me staring, he waved big, but his smile faltered. He pointed to my neck before shaking his head, busting up with a laugh I realized I couldn’t hear. A laugh I didn’t know how much I’d been wanting to hear until now. Until I couldn’t. But even though I couldn’t hear him, his look said it all. His teasing voice sprang in my head - had a good night, huh? - and then my own chest bubbled with laughter. But his eyes dropped lower to my jersey and his smile fell. He looked away without meeting my gaze again, and I couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of rejection.

-----------

The dangling string lights above Karli’s bed swayed into each other until they became one blurry glow. Or maybe it was me… okay yes, it was me. I was the one swaying. From the carpet, I gripped her lavender bedspread to steady myself.

“I’m not surprised we won honestly,” she said, Cartier bracelets tinkering down her arm as if her cheering from the stands was the sole thing that made the Panthers win. In my impaired state, I fought a snicker. If the gang had seen her walking last night, one mugging would’ve given them all the money they needed.

Horrible thought.

Awful thought.

Tremendously awful horrible passing thought I wouldn’t wish on anyone-

But alas, it was still a thought.

“That makes two of us,” Viv chimed.

It was sometime past midnight, and Renny and I had already taken full advantage of the mini shots we’d packed in our purses. We broke them out as soon as the official meeting had ended.

Tonight had been “get to know what we’re really all about night.” So we’d learned more their charity Service for Sight. Apparently, sometime quite soon we’d be paired with a vision impaired student on campus as a sort of “introduction” for the bigger service work to be done later at the Blind Children’s Center in Los Angeles. For the first time since joining, I’d felt an excited flutter in my chest. The only reason I was studying Biology was to eventually become a doctor, to contribute to the world in some positive way. And now the opportunity was falling in my lap to do something that felt...good. Maybe I did need to thank Renny and - oh, God - my mother for pushing me into this.

Most of the girls dispersed to post-game parties after that - including Harry’s frat’s. I tried not to think about Harry getting drunk and beautiful girls dressed in zilch getting to see his drunk flushed cheeks and taking advantage of his flirtatious nature… pressing him up against a wall, him dipping his head low to brush his lips against their ear…

I stop my imaginative self-pity and laughed at myself. Harry? Taken advantage of by pretty girls?

For what it’s worth, I also tried not to think about how my phone had remained completely silent since the game. I’d sent him a “CONGRATULATIONS!! So proud. I have to go the DGS tonight but wish I could celebrate with you” just in case he’d been planning on seeing me. It was the nice thing to do after all. I was getting antsy for him to see the message and when we piled out of the stadium, I caught him just before he entered the field tunnel.

“Harry!!” I’d shouted. He faltered, before he matched the voice with the face. I pantomimed texting and waved my phone like a madwoman. “CHECK IT!!”

But Gemma was right behind me, and his face fell, turning on his heel just as he’d left me last. Except this time the bruise he’d given me wasn’t visible. And there were helluva lot less butterflies.

Shelby turned the first floor of the DG house to an after party of her own, but as soon as friends of friends started showing up, Karli began leading a small group of VIPS upstairs as I planned my escape. Renny hadn’t noticed, already giggling halfway up the banister with Kiki while Lynn followed, arm slung around Donna.

My hand had just opened the front door when Viv called out to me.

“Stay,” she’d said, long blonde hair tossed over a delicate shoulder. It was hard to find something malicious in her tone, especially through my buzz - but I knew another intention was hiding, somewhere, even if I couldn’t see the end game. “Come onnn,” she drawled, her voice the sweet nectar of a venus fly trap. I could hear my mom’s voice now, telling me that I was being too harsh, judging too soon…

But even if I couldn’t prove it, energy couldn’t lie. Was I smarter than a fly?

I followed her anyhow.

Sat between Donna and Renny, I was starting to think that the last Jack Daniel’s shot was a mistake when Karli slammed her hands against the carpet. It was a dull thud, but it could’ve shook the whole room the way we all went rod-still.

“You guys might actually turn out to be cool,” she confided. She burst up in a fit of giggles, but quieted herself, barely. “No, really, you’ve done a great job so far.”

“Aww.” Renny placed a hand to her chest and I wanted to smack it down. I quickly glanced at Lynn, but instead of getting a can you believe this? stare, she seemed unbothered.

“It’s easier than how we had it,” Viv said.

“Really?” I always thought they’d just strolled in, flashed a nice smile, bonded over how they had the same hairdresser and BAM. They were in.

Apparently not.

Viv looked past me to the door, and in the hushed way she spoke, made me think this wasn’t exactly what they wanted everyone to hear. Or anyone, besides the six of us. Karli and Viv looked at each other in sly excitement. With a swish of her autumn bob, Karli leant forward, hands splayed on the carpet.

“We have an assignment for each of you,”

“Uh, pass, I don’t need another one,” Lynn chortled.

Karli held out her finger, scanning us in the the most dramatic pause. “This isn’t an ordinary assignment. The first phase involves you getting a DG Pretty Please.”

Donna tried to stifle her laugh. Renny hid a smirk, but she sat silent, completely transfixed.

“The DG Pretty Please is a task, anonymously assigned to you by one of our members. Think Secret Santa, but different,” she continued.

“And some of these tasks will take longer than you think, so Kiki and I are giving you plenty of time to prepare,” Viv smiled, as though it was the most charitable thing she could have done.

“Is everyone getting a task like this?” Renny asked.

Karli scratched her eyebrow, slightly annoyed. “It doesn’t really work like that. It’s something you do if you’re asked.”

But I heard the edge to her tone. This was something you did if you were told. With the way they’d watched the door for any unsuspecting party goer, it sunk in that this wasn’t technically official. It was the part everyone knew that came with sororities and fraternities, but the part no one put on paper. If getting a secret mission was as bad as DG hazing could get, I’d consider myself lucky.

“Does Shelby know about this?” I asked, boldly. Renny shot me a glare, wordlessly asking if I was really that dumb to ask that question, to have just now decided to expose the unspoken agreement carried out wordlessly and infamously since the organization’s conception.

Karli snorted. “Shelby was the one who invented this.”

“In December, we’ll have a final pledge meeting. Prove completion of your DG Pretty Please and if you do, then that same night your big will be revealed to you.” It was the only time Viv’s smile didn’t feel too forced. She enjoyed this madness.

Renny didn’t hesitate- “I’m in!”

“But!” Viv interjected. “If you aren’t successful, you forfeit a spot in the sorority. I know you all get super busy with clubs, and parties-”

“And homework,” I mentioned.

“Oh, right. School,” Karli said, partially joking. “I know everyone likes you guys right now, but this is a serious assignment that affects your ability to be a part of this sisterhood. And you can’t tell anyone what your task is. It’s completely anonymous. If anyone else finds out, we’ll know you talked. Your challenge is void. You fail. We question your loyalty, bla, bla, bla, details. Any questions?”

“Can I get my money back?” I laughed, and the girls snickered - but I wasn’t really joking.

“Ha! No.” Viv was as much of a comic as I was. “You’ll get your tasks in a couple days.”

A chime went off, and we all looked at our phones. It was Lynn’s.

“We made the paper again!!” She did a little party dance in her lap and Donna peered at the screen. “Just got the notification,” Lynn explained.

The only college student left alive that got updates of the local paper, Lynn’s parents were published newspaper columnists. After graduating Yale and having a stint of employment in the Middle East, the couple traveled to New York and continued writing for the Times before they moved west coast and settled for the San Francisco Chronicle. ‘Major literary nerds’ was Donna’s affectionate term.

“Is it about the game? Did they include any pictures of cheer?” Viv was suddenly interested. She looked at the article, lips pinching in disappointment. There were snapshots of the different players from tonight, and I struggled to focus on the screen that was lain on the floor for all to see. But there he was, mouth open as if bellowing to his teammates, legs parted in a run. My blood ran hot. Was it stuffy in this room? Was it just this photo of Harry? Or was it just good ‘ol Jack Daniel?

I drew my hair up in a haphazard ponytail, smiling as Lynn scrolled to a picture of Louis scoring and pulling some ridiculous face in concentration. “There’s my boy!!” I hollered, pointing at the screen. “He’s just so dang good.”

Kiki’s brow rose. “Wrong jersey, love.”

Lynn suddenly snapped, snatching her phone back to recapture our attention. “Dude, I saw Louis go in the locker room with Candice yesterday after Journalism. But I don’t think…”

Karli’s auburn bob swished as she shook her head. “Oh, hell no. My mom sees Candice at church every Sunday, she probably just took his dirty laundry to take home.”

“Doesn’t that mean he’d have to strip down first,” Lynn smiled.

“Again, doubt it,” Kiki dismissed.

Viv heaved a sigh of relief. “Well thank God, I would’ve been out.”

“Out of what?” I asked. This time Renny didn’t stab me with her eyes for asking a question. This time, she was just as curious.

“You didn’t hear about the money pool?” Lynn asked.

“Uhhh… no.”

“I’m with you...” Donna said, eyes narrowing.

Lynn held up her hands. “What?! Babe, don’t look at me like that.”

“It’s a game everyone in the house is in on,” Kiki said. “Whoever’s the first to fuck in the locker room wins the money. Do you want in?”

My body temperature rose another 500 degrees just remembering being outside the locker room, whereby I continued to be consensually ruined for any future makeout that didn’t involve Harry.

Viv looked completely cool, composed. “Y/N must’ve missed one of those meetings.”

“I don’t know, I think Y/N might win if she plays. Did he give you that massive thing?” Donna’s voice was low, but not low enough.

Everyone’s eyes went to my neck. I swallowed, hard. Viv’s eyes glazed over and I didn’t miss the click of her jaw.

Can the gods come down right now and blast me away??! Why did I put my hair up!! Why!! I’d been so careful hiding it this entire night!!

If I wasn’t drunk I’d be trembling. I didn’t trust Viv, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to hate me. Seeing her eyes glaze over I almost felt guilty. Almost. Until I remembered all the snide comments, the way she belittled me in front of Harry, the way she took pride in being one step ahead...

Not this time.

I channeled my inner I don’t give a damn like the perfect mask it was, and flipped my hair over both shoulders, giving them my best ridiculous smize face that made Renny snort aloud.

“Eh, I’ll think about it. But I’ll let you win for now.”

Kiki watched the scene unfold before her with a delirious smile, respect riddling her voice. “I think you’ve just given us inspiration for your challenge.”

chappie 17

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