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nariism · 1 year

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can't take my eyes off of you

pair. itoshi rin x gn!reader

content: fluff, strangers to lovers, slice of life, angst/comfort for one part, itoshi brothers' relationship isn't as awful

synopsis. rin has never been good at remembering faces. but as the seasons change and the years pass, he can't help but think that yours might be his favourite. or - the times rin couldn't take his eyes off you

wc. 8.5k

itoshi rin never misses a shot from 15 metres out.

he's absolutely positive he never has. nope. not even once. so when he ends up on the ground, chest heaving, sweat pouring, and eyes looking toward the sky, he's confused.

he replays the last couple seconds in his mind, hears his teammates cheering and certain victory is about to come. then he receives the ball, dribbles a little as he always does to kill the spin on it and gets ready to unleash another perfectly parabolic goal, when...?

he blinks up at the sky. looks to his coach sitting on the bench with a scowl on his face, to the score, 2-3, and he gulps loudly. had he scored they would have went overtime and he's confident he could have gotten another after that.

so here he is on the turf with his muscles aching from use. it’s early january and starting to snow; he has to blink the snowflakes out of his eyelashes. his teammates are pulling him up to his feet and clapping him on the back: "nice shot, itoshi," even though he missed. he supposes that in their eyes any play he makes would be godlike, but he feels vile being congratulated when he couldn't even score.

in his current haze, he can't seem to remember where his mind was when he shot. he just remembers the heavy clang of the ball against the metal post, cheering from the opposite side of the field, and the whistle. it takes him 32 minutes to discover why he missed. he's sitting in the changeroom, a towel draped over his head and waterbottle in tow, when it comes back to him.

itoshi rin doesn't pay attention to faces all that much. he could tell you what his mom looks like. what sae looks like ("annoying," he scoffs). he knows what his teammates look like - he has to so that he knows who to pass to in split second decisions. other than that, he doesn't bother.

he thinks hallways look too crowded when he tries to discern what people look like. he doesn't like feeling suffocated. he sits in his homeroom, obediently listens to the teacher, packs up, and leaves without sparing anyone a second thought. there's someone who always sits in front of him in class, but he can't put a name to the face. in fact, he can't seem to put a face to the rest of their body. the back of their head is familiar, the same one he’s been looking at for a long time now.

he's a bit stunned when he catches your eyes from the bleachers.

you're sitting there looking rather plain and talking to a different classmate he also can't name. you seem a little disinterested in the game, if anything. you're just another figure in the crowd. nothing more than one body among dozens. but for some reason he sees you, perhaps for the first time ever, and the breath is stolen from his lungs.

your eyes only meet for a moment, but the hair of a second that he looks at you is all it takes, because his ankle doesn't turn enough and he collides with the ball at an angle he doesn't mean to.

so he sits there, annoyed, leg shaking, heel tapping against the tile floor of the locker room. he's usually good at seeing through people and pretending they don't exist, but now all he can see when he closes his eyes is your stupid face and stupid smile and stupid expression and the way you jolted slightly in your seat when you met his eyes.

it irks him to no end.

you're restless in class. not because you're bored, or need to use the bathroom. not even because you had one too many cans of coffee from the vending machine before showing up to school today.

no, it's because, crap, why is rin glaring holes into the back of your head right now? without even looking back at him you can feel that he's leering at you with intense focus.

the teacher dismisses the class and you hurry to gather up your books into your arms hoping to escape his death stare, but much to your dismay he taps your shoulder lightly with the end of his pencil. you turn sheepishly in your seat, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"what's your name?"

what.

you stare at him blankly, slightly flabbergasted and unsure whether or not to feel offended that he doesn't know your name despite sitting behind you for the entire semester. in fact, rin has been in your class almost every single year since you were in grade school, not that he ever bothered to care apparently.

"um..." you drawl out lamely. he quirks a brow at you, and you lament, telling him your name begrudgingly. he seems oddly satisfied despite how bitter you sound.

"okay," he says, and goes back to putting his books into his bag. you blink at him incredulously.

"...o...kay?" you shift in your seat uncomfortably. he doesn't even dignify you with a response, slinging his bag over his shoulder and brushing past your desk without a second glance.

you fume silently from your spot as you watch his retreating back. you're sure he's heading to the field to train, and you have half a mind to stop him. but then your friends approach you, slightly starstruck, and ask you why the itoshi rin was asking for your name.

you think it's a little weird how excited they are over this. star or not, he's still an asshole.

the next day, rumours are already spreading like wildfire about you and rin. were you secretly lovers? dating? arranged marriage?

your head spins at the thought, not only because - um, ew? - but because this all sprang from a single ten second interaction. if you were dating, why on earth would he ask for your name?! regardless of all simple logic, your name is thrown around in quiet whispers and laughs.

you decide to sulk today at your desk, head in your arms as you rest your eyes and try to drown out the obvious staring from your friends and classmates. you feel as though they're waiting for you to come forward and say something, anything, to confirm their suspicions. sure, rin was quiet and didn't really bother with making friends, but seriously! all he did was ask for your name!

you're half asleep when he stops beside your chair. the smell of his cologne makes you dizzy (in a way that makes your stomach turn and - damnit, why does he have to be so attractive?!). you squint and side eye him, though he can't see it with your face buried in your arms.

"good morning," he deadpans, and the entire class erupts into hushed gossip. you whip up, back straight, and glare at him. he seems a little surprised at your reaction, blinking innocently and infuriatingly oblivious.

'read the room!' your expression screams at him, but he doesn't falter. not even a little. your cheeks burn when he stands there, staring, waiting for you to say good morning back to him.

you finally relent after a good 5 second pause. "...good morning, itoshi."

he again seems satisfied with your interaction and takes his seat behind you, his chair screeching impossibly loud as the entire room watches with bated breath.

you want to wither away and die on the spot and have the floor swallow you whole and- oh come on! why on earth is he burning holes into the back of your head again?!

it’s mid-spring.

rin goes about his days normally. he doesn't stop to say goodbye to anyone in class - including you - when the last bell rings, instead scooping up all his belongings and rushing out the door to get to the field first. he feels that saying good morning to you every day is sufficient enough; it scratches that itch in his brain that bugs him when he thinks about you.

he also thinks you're avoiding him for some reason, because whenever he sees you in the hallway at lunch you turn heel and bolt in the other direction, even though he knows your locker is only a couple down from his.

you're actually very pretty, he admits now that he can remember your face. it's annoying that it distracts him a little when he tries to pay attention in class, but he figures it's fine since he already knows how to introduce himself in english anyways.

but he doesn't like seeing your face, pretty or not, in a crowd. there, it's too distracting. in class it’s less of a problem, but on the field is an entirely different story. it gets to the point where it's almost aggravating, the way he wants to search for your eyes among the plethora of students who come to watch them.

your friends seem to admire him, he discovers, when they give him shy waves and bright smiles as he kicks the ball and glances in your direction. (so that explains why you show up to his games so often despite avoiding him like the plague in school, he thinks). once again he's instinctively looking for you, to meet your eyes, even though his kicking accuracy has dropped from 98% to 97% this season because of it.

he likes to watch you still in your seat when he looks at you. it strokes his ego in a way that football just can’t. his brain is good at instantly tuning out and ignoring all your friends who are vying for his attention.

you can tell he's looking at you. at you, specifically. it makes a shiver run down your spine.

you decide to be brave one day after a couple months spent agonizing over whether or not you should try and ignore him for the rest of your life. it's raining a little. your friends are all huddled under a fortress of umbrellas you built together. he thinks it's endearing in a way, and as he's taking a swig of water from his bottle, he ends up staring a little more intensely than he means to.

he must be acting too obvious because all your friends notice him looking their way and start clamouring again, waving in his direction trying to get him to say hello back. but he isn't paying them even half a mind.

you meet his eyes. you smile gently at him. for the first time ever.

he nearly chokes on his water.

it's a free period in class today, time given to allow the students to finish up whatever remaining work they have before the break. he watches you pull out a math textbook, then english, then japanese literature, and try to decide which you should do first.

he ends up scooting his chair over to your desk when you choose english.

"can you help me?" he asks. you look unconvinced, lips pursed. eventually you agree, because he looks uncharacteristically sad when you point out that he had the highest score in class on the last test.

he feels a little dumb sitting there pretending not to know the difference between an "-ou" and an "-au" sound, just to hear your voice. he’s already proficient enough in english, specifically to understand gameplay commentary from famous overseas teams. he doesn't even know what compelled him to pull his chair over here. his legs are too long to be cramped beneath the desk along with yours, and the table itself is too small for both your books. he stays anyways because he likes the way you sound trying to explain to him the basics that he already learned years ago.

("no, itoshi. here, this is how you spell it."

"you can’t just replace ‘c’ with ‘s’, that doesn’t even make sense here!"

"are you doing this on purpose?"

"itoshi. pay attention.")

he deflates a little when the period ends, because that means it's one period closer to officially being spring break and he won't get to see the way your face lights up when he looks at you for a whole week. he blinks when you extend your hand out to him. your phone is lit up, the contacts app open and the prompt "add new contact" is selected.

he freezes. he's so still you're afraid you might have just killed him.

you look like you're about to retract the offer, face flushed in embarrassment because ouch, getting rejected by itoshi rin? that's rough, buddy. but he stops you, one hand gently grabbing you by the wrist while the other snatches the phone from you with urgency that's amusing.

he hesitates when deciding what name to put for himself in your contacts before handing your phone back to you and you fluster a bit, wondering why he's suddenly on a first name basis with you even though all you've done is exchange polite smiles and glances every so often and say good morning for a couple months.

he leaves for a while after that, asks to go to the bathroom and doesn't return for so long that everyone is suspicious he's taking a massive dump. when he does come back, he saunters up to your desk, contemplates something with a strange expression on his face, then plops whatever he's holding onto your table and rushes to sit back down at his desk looking so flustered that you wonder if you’re dreaming.

it's a juicebox from the vending machines outside. there's a sticky note attached to it.

thanks -r

you don't muster up the courage to message him until three days into the break. it's so late that it almost feels mortifying and you're worried he'll think you forgot about him. in truth, he's essentially haunting you and your mind. him and his stupidly gorgeous face.

hi rin! how's your break? :)

only a few moments pass while you stare at your screen waiting for the grey typing bubble to pop up when he replies.

hi good

you aren't sure why you're surprised in the slightest that rin is the driest texter in the world. sinking into your mattress, you groan quietly. two texts in and the conversation dies. you poorly attempt to revive it:

what have you been up to?

he doesn't even respond fast this time, leaving you on delivered. you're bored and lonely and oh god. you kind of miss the way rin looks at you. okay, so maybe you’re a bit delusional thinking that he might have a soft spot for you. (you’re not.)

tossing your phone to the other side of your bed, you decide to stop moping around in your room and meet with your friends that had invited you out earlier in the day. your phone buzzes as you put your first foot out the door.

football

you huff silently, pocketing your phone without responding because he's being the worst at texting right now. rin waits patiently for a response, phone in hand as he drinks some water between pants. it's a nice day out. cicadas chirp loudly around him.

sae, who he'd been absentmindedly kicking a ball around with, approaches him. "who's that?" he asks while he rudely snoops the screen. rin twists it away from his sight.

"mind your business," he replies. sae just laughs, as all older brothers would.

"interested in someone? mind not on football lately? no wonder your passes have been so shitty today."

rin gives him a sharp glare. he's worried sae will never let him live it down if he brings you up, so he doesn't, and instead throws his phone back into his gym bag when he figures you've found him too boring.

not that he cares. not at all. not even slightly. no siree. (his hands are itching.)

he quickly realizes in horror that sae is right, his passes are shitty today, so half an hour later he calls it a day and abandons his horribly confused brother in the park to go home and think. it's late at night by the time you get home, kicking your shoes off and making a beeline for the shower. you finally decide to check your phone again and almost pass out.

hope your break is good kind of miss your dumb face

you're not sure what kind of evil possesses you to come here, but somehow you end up standing behind the fence at one of rin's spring break soccer games.

it's quieter than usual. you're not surprised - all of rin's adoring fans have gone home and stayed home for the break, and yet here you are watching him play as you always do. you feel like his doting partner and the thought makes your stomach churn.

he looks the best when he's on the field. his face is less serious. less doom-impending. his eyes are sharp on the ball, on his teammates, on the enemies, and he's quick on his feet. his muscles flex with every movement. you find yourself gawking at him rather unceremoniously.

at halftime, he plops himself onto the bench and gasps for air, catching his breath before he's inevitably sent back out to the battlefield. his breath hitches in his throat when he sees you.

"hi rin," you wave at him, handing him a fresh and icy cold water bottle. he accepts it without hesitation, downing almost the whole thing in one go.

"you came," is his curt observation when he closes the bottle back up. he had invited you, of course, but when you didn't reply he figured you weren't interested.

"might as well be here to show my support. school spirit and all," you muse with that smile on your face that drives him absolutely crazy.

"yeah. sure." he drapes a towel around his neck and the conversation dies there. you seem content just admiring him from where you stand, and he seems content letting this feed into his ego.

when the whistle blows again, you get ready to bid him goodbye until next week when you're back in school, but he stops you before you can get a word out.

"wait for me, okay? i won't take long."

you're a bit shocked but promise him you'll stay behind after the game. and you do so, sitting there on the bleachers obediently as the whole team walks off into the locker room. you stay there for a while, watching everyone else pack up to leave. some people hang back to meet their partners and friends on the field. it feels awkward being the one waiting for rin.

he emerges from the building 15 minutes later. his hair is dripping wet from his shower and he's dressed rather sloppily considering he's usually prim and proper. there's a gym bag slung around his body. it’s unfair how pretty he looks even when he’s dressed so mundanely.

"hi," he greets you on the field, and he doesn't elaborate more than that. you seem dissatisfied.

"so, what's up?"

he makes a funny face, you think. it's always hard to tell what exactly he's feeling, but he almost looks... embarrassed? his eyes divert somewhere off to the side as if he's finding it hard to meet your curious gaze.

"let's get food," he finally says, still unable to look at you. if he had, he wouldn't have missed the way you bristle at the suggestion. and although you had plans to sit around in your room and relax today after this, you find it hard to deny him.

so you end up at a casual spot. the only thing on the menu is variations of onigiri that he eyes disdainfully. you laugh at him. "are you sure you want to eat here? we can find somewhere else," you tell him. he was the one who chose this place, after all. you dont mind following him around some more if he doesn't seem interested.

"here is fine," is all he replies with before he steps into the little shop.

you've never seen the way he eats, but you're not surprised that he doesn't speak when he does. he just shovels the rice into his mouth without skipping a beat, mouth closed while he chews, and looks at you occasionally as if making sure he’s not just hallucinating that you’re sitting across from him.

you're not sure how to talk to him. everytime you try the words seem to die on the way out because holy shit he's insanely breathtaking. so instead you eat in silence with him; not exactly what you'd call an ideal first time hanging out, but you're comfortable sitting there with him nonetheless. you liked that about him.

he walks you home after that. you miss the way he jumps out of his skin when your knuckles brush together as you walk. you're not sure how to say goodbye to him when he stops a few feet away from your front porch.

he's looking at you again, in the way that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you wonder if he feels the same when you look at him. (he does.)

"rin," you call out and it sounds just a little breathless. maybe he's just imagining it.

what he doesn't imagine is your sudden lunge forward, a soft kiss on his cheek, and then the front door slamming behind you before he can even blink. he stands there for a bit - completely, utterly, hilariously frozen in place.

sae leans against the doorframe that night, arms crossed over his chest and an annoyingly amused expression on his face as rin lays there, face down in bed and buried under the blankets. the younger brother looks up, eyes pleading with sae not to ask what happened. of course, he does anyways.

“i’m guessing things went well today?”

rin screams silently into his pillow.

when school comes back around, you settle into a routine. rin meets you at your locker in the morning, watches as you shuffle your books into place, then walks to class with you. at the end of the day, he takes you home because "it's raining out," or "don't you want my coat?" or best yet: "i would be sad for you if you got mugged."

he likes this routine a lot. he gets to see your face more often since he usually spends most of the day just staring at the back of your head. the days seem to blur past him faster and faster as graduation approaches, but he’s blissfully ignoring the passage of time just to bask in your presence a little longer. summer passes in a whir. you take up so much of his memory space that he starts seeing you in his dreams. it drives him insane.

it’s late autumn. he feels like he’s on the precipice of something big, something grand, but he can’t put his finger on it exactly.

rin is halfway through a bite of a pork bun when-

"are you guys dating?"

you squeeze your juicebox a little too hard and it squirts down your throat. rin looks at you funny while you cough. his leg bumps against yours mindlessly under the desk where he has decided is your usual lunch spot. together.

"no," he replies simply. the guy standing at your desk seems to chipper up.

"okay, then, do you have any plans later?"

you don't respond at first, because you're almost positive he's looking at rin when he asks (because who wouldn't be? he's the star of the school and every guy wants to be his right hand man). but he isn't looking at rin. he's looking directly at you.

rin's eye twitches.

"yes," he replies for you just as you start to notice the guy is still waiting for an answer. your classmate looks unconvinced.

"i thought you guys weren't dating?"

"we are," rin corrects quickly even though not 10 seconds ago he was saying the opposite.

okay. that kills you. he watches with a glimmer of humour as steam leaves your ears. you swat at his arm. "n-no! we are not!" you manage to stammer out. you can't help but notice that rin frowns at this, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

"i was kind of hoping, if you don't mind... did you want to grab dinner with me after school?" your classmate shifts in his spot and sheepishly rubs his arm. rin's eyes tear between you and him. there's a gross feeling of jealousy growing inside the pit of his stomach when you look like you're considering it.

he chooses to ignore the pure look of pity in your eyes, as if you were looking at a lost child, and instead sulk in his spot, back sliding down the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

the guy is practically pleading for your number in seconds, and while you don't know him all that well you relent anyways because, well, what's the worst that could happen?

that's how you end up 6 hours later at a place much too fancy for your liking. it's cramped and stuffy and orchestral music is blaring over the speakers. you're pretty sure you've only seen places like this in western movies.

you suddenly miss the quiet comfort that sitting with rin brings you. the realization tears through your heart violently.

your classmate is trying way too hard to impress you, you think to yourself, because every word out of his mouth sounds like a brag. the highest grades, first choice university, tallest in his family; you're getting bored to death listening. so you slide your phone out while he's in the bathroom, stamp out "S-O-S" to rin, and hide it away again.

rin is out the door in minutes, leaving sae in the living room confused and wondering whether or not he should press continue and finish whatever horror movie is playing on his own.

your classmate insists on paying for your meal. you decline with fervour, worried that you'll feel a little indebted to him for paying for such an expensive dinner - one certainly too expensive for students - and pay for yourself. he even offers you a ride home which you also turn down because you know rin is a few minutes out.

he considers it a successful date, to which you have to kindly explain that while you had fun, you’re not interested. he seems angry when he slams the door to his car, muttering about how he shouldn’t have messed around with ‘rin’s property’. you seethe.

there's a particularly chilly breeze tonight. you end up left out in the cold, clothes thin because you were told to dress for the occasion, shivering where you sit on the street bench. rin tosses his coat over you.

"have fun?" he asks sarcastically. you glare at him and he averts his jealous gaze.

"as if," you bite back. he doesn't respond after that, only tugging you to your feet and putting an arm around you. he's walking in a direction away from your house, but you allow him to drag you along anyways.

"was your night any better than mine?" you ask him when he stops in front of a convenience store. he’s reading the advertisements for popsicles despite the cold nipping at your skin.

he thinks for a moment. "no, my brother was being a pain."

you laugh a little at this. "i thought he was going back to spain soon for the next season. don't you want to spend some time with him?"

"no." not when you're here, he wants to say, but he doesn't. you snort at his quick answer.

he's staring too intensely at you again - he actually realizes it this time - but for some reason he can't look away. it's always been like that with you, ever since he caught your eyes from the crowd in that very first game. you’re like a plague on his mind.

his expression contorts a little and you giggle. the sound makes him feel like he can't breathe. suffocating, but not in the same way as when he’s walking through a crowd. drowning, but he can’t get enough, drinking in everything about you even if it kills him.

snow drifts down and catches in the loose strands of your hair. the first snow of the season. he didn’t know it was possible, but you somehow look even prettier.

"why are you looking at me like that, rin?"

"you're pretty to look at."

"yes, i know-" because he tells you that all the time, "-even though i also have a quote-unquote 'annoyingly distracting face'."

he only nods in response. your cheeks grow warmer when he starts closing the distance between you, twisting to meet your eye level. your heart is ready to pound out of your chest when he's so close you can feel the exhale that leaves his mouth. it wavers.

"it is annoyingly distracting. how can you expect me to just ignore you?" he asks, but it doesn't sound like it's a question directed to you. the way he's looking at you, eyes impossibly soft and face scrunched up in confusion, makes your knees weak. he doesn't look at anyone else like that. he just doesn't.

"you're getting too close, rin," you whisper but there's no attempt to back away from him.

"i don't care," he grumbles.

it’s late autumn when you have a comically terrible first date that rin never stops bringing up, even years later. it’s late autumn when he hears how his heartbeat roars in his ears when he looks at you. it’s late autumn when he realizes how much he’s in love with you.

he kisses you first.

it’s spring, and your graduation day.

well, it's also rin's graduation day, but one of the games in his competitive league got moved to today so you're forced to attend alone. you had tried to convince him: "rin, please, you only get one high school graduation in your life. can't you miss this game?" sounding a little exasperated. he looked at you almost with offense at the very idea of skipping out on a game.

it upsets you that he won't be here celebrating with the rest of the seniors (what you mean to say is with you, because itoshi rin couldn't care less about those people he can't even name). you're a little mopey for the better part of the morning, feeling only slightly better when your friends find and join you in the crowd. the ceremony is supposed to start soon and your heart aches.

why you feel so hurt is beyond you. maybe you're just upset over the reminder that soccer will always be rin’s first love, but it's not fair. this was supposed to be a special day for both of you, and he bailed.

you're about to follow your group of friends into the gymnasium where everyone is to be seated when a hand captures yours. you startle before the rough and calloused skin soothes you. familiar. rin.

he's out of breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with each inhale he rakes in as if he'd just sprinted here. and though he'd never tell you, he did sprint here after feeling all too guilty at the game and leaving halfway through. he smells like sweat, and he's not dressed even slightly for the occasion, but he's in front of you holding flowers and looking extremely guilty.

"rin?" you balance him with your hands on his shoulders as he doubles over to catch his breath. "what happened to your game?" his stomach turns when he realizes you don’t sound even an ounce mad at him, only slightly confused and worried. how did he ever get so lucky?

you try to pry but he opts to ignore your questions. he looks at you through his lashes, completely focused, gaze sharp and loving and so intense you're afraid you'll melt into a puddle. it's only then that you realize:

oh. oh. rin is choosing to be here. here, with you, and not playing soccer.

"congratulations," he finally pants out and shoves the flowers into your arms with haste. this makes you laugh and his heart throbs in his ribcage. oh god, he might actually pass out. you look too nice draped in your graduation gown and cap. the school colours always did suit you.

"rin, it's your graduation too," you remind him. he feels your free hand cup his face and guide him back up to look at you. you're so close he can practically feel your laugh rumbling in his own lungs. you kiss him gently and he falls apart.

it’s been over a year since he first learned your name, but he worships it anyways, repeating it over and over against your lips.

"congratulations," he sputters again clumsily when you pull away from him.

"congrats," you echo.

when you choose to go to university, rin follows.

"are you sure you want to go there?" you ask him while you sit on the floor of your childhood home and pack your things neatly into a box. rin lounges on your bed, watching. "i'm pretty sure there's other schools that have better soccer teams than this one..."

"shut up," he bites before sliding off the bed and helping you stuff things into the moving box. "any team i'm on is the best."

you smile at him because you know what he really means is that he'll worry so much about you if you're apart that he won't be able to focus on soccer anyways. but if you ever told him you knew that he would deny it as if his life depended on it, so you keep your little truth unspoken.

"did you find a place yet? or will you just be staying in the dorms like me?"

he grimaces. "don't you think the dorms are a little unsanitary?" you only laugh at his mild disgust, as you always do when he's being a drama queen.

"come on, it's the college experience!"

"the college experience is... going to college," he argues weakly.

"yeah but you meet more people that way. so, you did find a place then? where is it?"

his eyes tear away from you as he closes the box. "if you're staying in the dorms, so am i."

you blink before laughing again. it makes his heart race. "what, are you jealous that i want to make some friends? i can't keep talking to you and only you forever, y'know."

he only pouts slightly at this, looking away with a red tinted face. "... what if that’s what i want?"

you drop the book you're about to pack in surprise, eyes a little wide. he groans when he realizes his error, a grossly smug grin spreading across your cheeks. “you mean that?”

“no, i take it back. rot.” he quickly refuses.

you look like you’re about to open your mouth to protest, so he reaches over and pinches your cheeks together to stop you. you glare at him softly, mumbling something unintelligible with your lips squished up from his fingers.

“sorry, i didn’t catch that?” he looks annoyingly victorious.

you swat his hand away from your face, sighing. “i’m just saying, it would be cool to meet some new people, maybe even have mutual friends!”

“i have enough friends.”

“rin, i’ve seen the contacts list on your phone.”

“ouch.”

you merely giggle in response, standing and grabbing the moving box into your arms. rin quickly follows, snatching it from your hands as if he’s offended you didn’t ask him to take it for you. he places it among the countless other boxes in the corner of your room, ready to be moved tomorrow morning.

your room is so empty, it fills you with quiet sadness. you grew up here. know every nook and cranny like the back of your hand. know where the spiders like to make their webs. know every suspicious stain you made as a kid.

rin seems to notice your change in demeanour, because in seconds he’s standing in front of you with his brows furrowed. “what’s wrong?” he asks and you can’t help but smile at how attentive he is.

“nothing, it’s... it’s stupid, i guess. i’ll just miss this place. feels like the end of my childhood, you know? moving out of my parents’ and into the real world, alone.” you don’t realize you’re rambling until you finish, flushing a bit in embarrassment. “sorry, i should stop.”

his head tilts to the side and confusion is written all over his face. his hand comes to your cheek, thumb grazing the skin gently. your heart nearly stops in your chest.

“but you’re not alone.”

there’s a stifling silence in the room. he’s waiting for a response from you, but you’re not sure what to say. your room is only illuminated by a couple lamps, one on your night table and the other on your desk. they cast an orange glow on rin’s face that makes him look ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven itself. and his gaze doesn’t waver, soft and filled with adoration as it always is even though you’re nearly in tears from the nostalgia ripping through you.

you swallow the lump growing in your throat. “what if that changes? what if we change?”

“why would we change?”

“i don’t know, rin. don’t you think the person you were in highschool is gonna be a lot different than who you will be a few years from now?”

he thinks for a moment, eyes finally leaving yours and drifting to the floor as he contemplates. there’s a finality in his expression when he studies your face closely again. “maybe. but i know i could never look at anyone else the way i look at you. that’s something that could never change.”

your breath hitches so loud you’re sure he can hear it too. there’s not an iota of dishonesty in his voice, not a single tell that says he doubts his claim in the slightest. “how can you be so sure?”

there’s silence again. deafening. you can hear your own blood rushing in your ears. then he kisses you, the same as he always does, but there’s something else behind it.

“i love you,” he tells you for the first time. three words reserved only for you. three words that he’d been waiting for the right moment to tell you. three words burning in his mind since the first time you took his breath away, though back then he tried his best not to entertain the idea. but now he’s never been so sure of it. “don’t you know that?”

both his hands cup your face now as you blink at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, totally speechless. he all but drags you into his body, arms draped around you and holding you closer than you think he ever has before. he sighs in relief when you nod.

“yeah, i-...” your arms circle his waist as you melt into him. “i love you too.”

he knows. he’s always known, just as you have.

it’s really no surprise when rin gets scouted for a team in europe. france, to be exact.

you’re in your third year of university, and though you love rin and know that he loves you, you can’t help but have some doubts about long distance. you still have god knows how long until you graduate completely, and it’s not exactly like you can uproot your whole life and education just to follow him all the way to france.

the prospect of asking him to stay and turn down his dream doesn’t seem all that much better, so you stand in the airport at 2am with him waiting for his flight. it’s an abysmal hour to be waiting for the plane, but it was the only one that would get him there at a reasonable hour to ease his jet lag.

“i’ll call you,” is the last thing he tells you when he kisses your forehead, the words mumbled into your skin like a promise. it makes your heart sink, and you can’t find a response in your throat that wouldn’t immediately turn into a sob.

the gate closes behind him. it’s only been seconds and you’re yearning to look into his eyes one last time.

life goes on as usual, but not. there’s a rin shaped hole in your life in places you never considered you would miss him in. you feel the heavy weight of his absence when you wait in line for your starbucks order, where he would usually stand and judge other people’s drinks with you. you feel it when you instinctively reach for two boxes of juice instead of one when you stop at a convenience store. you feel it especially when you try to stay awake a little later, a little longer, just a bit more, waiting for him to come home from his practices but failing when the time difference catches up to you.

it’s an ungodly hour of the night when your phone buzzes by your head. you groan quietly, hand thudding as you reach to turn it off until you freeze in place. there’s a picture on the screen - it’s of rin. you stole it when he was looking particularly cute while he watched you study in the library one day, and though he was incessant that you erase it from existence you couldn’t help but make it his contact photo much to his dismay.

you blink the grogginess from your eyes when you accept his call. he frowns when you flinch, adjusting to the sudden brightness of your screen in your otherwise very dark room.

“did i wake you?” he asks, brows furrowed, even though he can tell right away. he’s been craving to hear your voice all day. sue him for being a little selfish.

you huff with laughter. “no, it’s fine. i was waiting for your call.”

he gulps loudly when he hears how genuinely happy you are to hear from him. you were always so patient even with his short temper and busy schedule. you were too good to him.

“sorry. i know it’s late, i just…” he goes quiet for a moment, “i missed you.”

you nod, head sinking further into your pillow. he smiles when the duvet pulled over your body drowns you. it must be cold in japan right now. “i miss you too, rin.”

“is school okay?”

“a little boring, but i’m working on a proposal for my final year so hopefully it picks up soon. how has football been?” you ask him despite watching all the streamed games you possibly can. you know what a superstar he’s become, taking PXG by storm and making a name for himself among the starting lineup.

“busy. tiring. i miss you,” he says again, distracted.

there’s a rustle of wind that blows his bangs into his eyes. he quickly swipes the hair away, but you seem completely enamoured by him. he’s sitting outside, probably on the balcony of his incredibly pretty and expensive european style apartment. you can hear the faint chatter of people and cars passing just below him.

“i wanted to show you something,” he coughs out when there’s a beat of silence that passes on both ends of the call.

your eyes narrow from the brightness again when he flips the camera, adjusting you over the ledge of his balcony so you can see over it and across the streets of paris. the sky looks beautiful from this view, deep pink and gold as the sun sets.

“you’re so lucky,” you sigh contentedly. he was always good at reminding you that he was still thinking about you.

he blinks at his screen, eyes drifting away from the sky to settle on your image. he could watch a thousand sunsets on his own anyways. you’d always be prettier. he takes the opportunity while his camera is flipped away from his face to look at you, to examine you closer, to see if you’re really doing fine in japan, without your scrutinizing eyes calling him out.

“i’ll show you one day,” he blurts out. “in person, i mean.”

there’s laughter on the other end of the call, music to his ears. he can feel his body melting in relaxation from the sound alone. “only if you pay for the ticket,” you jest.

rin rests his head in his arms, leaning against the stone railing of his balcony. his phone stays extended past the barrier, held still so you can admire the sunset from a different part of the world. he suddenly feels violently homesick, even though you sleep under the same moon as he does.

you take note of the hush that befalls him, mirth dying in your throat. “rin. turn the camera back around.”

“why?” his voice is quiet again.

“i want to look at you.”

there’s another pause, and you think that he’ll be stubborn some more like he always is, but to your surprise the camera flips back around so that you can see him. the lower half of his face is still buried in his arms and his eyes shift away from you. the setting summer sun paints him in warm light.

you smile. “come back home to visit soon, okay?”

‘you’re my home,’ he wants to say. he doesn’t, because he’s worried he’ll throw up.

“right. soon.”

“hey,” your voice is soft and comforting. he almost wants to cry, but itoshi rin never cries. his focus shifts back to you and your expression is unwavering. adoring. “want to hear what the lady in front of me ordered at starbucks today?”

“lay it on me.”

“grande iced matcha with two pumps of raspberry syrup, four pumps of cinnamon dolce syrup, and cinnamon topping. she swore by it too, said it tasted like one of those fancy jelly-filled donuts you get from a bakery.”

he sneers in amusement. “sounds terrible.”

you both laugh, and for a moment it feels like he never left. he watches you roll around in bed a bit, flipping over so that the moonlight illuminates your face. his breath catches in his throat looking at you, so peaceful and warm. he wishes he was there to hold you. homesickness creeps up his spine again.

“whenever you come back…” your voice is gentle. loving. “i’ll be waiting for you with open arms.”

he stands up straight, eyes dragging all over your tired face through the facetime call. how was it possible for someone to be so breathtaking even in the dim light of their bedroom, expression heavy with exhaustion and smile fading with the lull of sleep? he’s so fucking lukewarm, allowing himself to be so enchanted with you when all you're doing is resting.

“i love you,” he tells you anyways. not like the words even needed to be uttered when he’s looking at you so longingly. that’s something distance could never change.

you were right, rin thinks. a lot of things had changed. his 27th birthday has come and gone, he’s about to finish his first contact for a professional team, and he’s packing up all his things to move back to japan. permanently.

despite all the moving parts in his life, you’ve remained constant. the person he can always depend on. the person who picks up his calls no matter the hour. the person who’s been sending him care packages with all his favourite japanese snacks that he so dearly misses.

some part of him is relieved that you’ve stuck with him all these years despite the painfully few and far between visits home, and the other part of him is crawling with the idea of not wasting another breathing second being apart from you.

it’s why when you meet him at the airport, all smiles and hands and kisses, he decides that he’s had enough of waiting.

“rin, wait-” you’re staring at him completely bewildered, as if you had just imagined his words. made them all up in your head.

“marry me,” he insists again. he doesn’t even have a ring. he’ll kick himself later for it, but right now you look too beautiful.

oh god. you might collapse. he’s boring into you so intensely, eyes sharp and serious but there’s so much emotion swimming in his expression that you would fall over if he wasn’t holding you upright by the waist.

there’s a crowd starting to form, because ‘oh wow, honey, look. it’s itoshi rin’ and ‘is he proposing?’ and ‘is now a bad time to ask for an autograph?’

he doesn’t care.

rin thinks you’re taking too long, or maybe he’s just being too impatient, because he opens his mouth to say more. but he’s cut off, perhaps by the single greatest word known to man.

“yes,” you breathe.

you’re in his arms in seconds, pressed so tight into his chest you could suffocate. you’re giggling regardless, bubbly and shaky and it makes the heart in his chest squeeze painfully with how much he missed you.

you still smell like the brand of shampoo you liked to use even before he left for europe. he can feel your shoulders trembling against him as you babble on and on about how happy you are with laughter on your tongue. he kisses you, and suddenly he’s eighteen again. it feels like home.

your hand reaches up and his heart leaps into his throat when you brush the hair out of his eyes, fingers delicately ghosting over his forehead. “of course i’ll marry you.” your voice is quiet, words for his ears only.

your sweet moment is short-lived, because there’s paparazzi surrounding you in seconds. they bombard you with question after question and you shrink away despite being abnormally used to the press. you are, after all, standing beside one of the most talented soccer players in japan. you realize he’s being unusually quiet, even for him, and when you turn to look at him again your breath catches.

he’s not paying anyone else a lick of attention. he’s never been good in the spotlight. never been good with faces. never been a people pleaser. in fact, you’ve joked multiple times that he has a special talent for ignoring people and exuding ‘leave me the hell alone’ energy. but he’s always looked at you the same, and you count yourself lucky that he saw you that day. had he made that shot, would your lives be any different? or would you always just be the person who happened to sit in front of him in class?

it doesn’t matter. none of it matters when he’s looking at you with his lips tugged into an impossibly wide grin for a man of his nature, eyes soft and face a little red. you nearly have the wind knocked out of your lungs.

he presses your foreheads together. “i’m home.”

you laugh. he’s heard it a thousand times, but he could never get tired of it.

“welcome home, rin.”

it’s starting to snow outside, but that’s okay. you always looked so pretty with snowflakes dusting your hair, anyways.

#— whispers in the wind ✧#itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #reader insert #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #slice of life #bllk fic

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reareaotaku · 9 months

Note

Hello it's me Rachel. Listen um sorry for the bother you but can you make a yandere losers club headcanon movie it 2017 ?

It's no bother! Of course I can!

Yandere Losers Club Headcanons

Characters: Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom [Also, I looked up the Jewish stuff for Stanley, so if I got anything wrong lmk]

Bill Denbrough

He gets really shy around you

Stutters a lot and he never really gets over it, no matter how he tries

You're way out of his league and he's surprised when you ask him out

But oh my god, you really want to date him

"Do you want to go out with me?"

He looks at you shocked, his mouth on the floor. At first, he thinks you're trying to pull a prank on him or making fun of him, but you're dead serious

"Oh- W-w-what?"

"Do you want to go out with.... me?" You gesture to yourself at the end, your confidence quickly fading in fear you were about to be rejected

"Uh-uh-uh, um...y-ye-yeah. I'd l-l-l-love to."

Now it's your turn to blush and you smile, "Great. That's great. So what now?"

"I don't know..."

It's a little awkward at first, but you both eventually get over it

His friends tease him, but Bill always brings up about how they're all single [It usually ends the teasing]

He always dresses up whenever he's going to see you

He just wants to look his best

Eddie Kaspbrak

You meet at his favorite place, the pharmacy

He knew who you were and you vaguely knew who he was

He had a huge crush on you and when he saw you, he nearly shit bricks

He quickly put the stuff he was holding back on the shelf, while accidentally knocking stuff down

"Uh, you're Eddie, right?"

He awkwardly laughs, his face turning a light red, "Uh, yeah. Y/n?"

"Yeah. What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" He's quick and nearly yells it at you, causing you to flinch back. He instantly felt bad about it

You only knew two things about Eddie; He's a germaphobe and his mom is crazy

"You're that germaphobe, right?"

His eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "No! I'm not scared of germs. That's crazy," He laughs it off, moving his hand back and forth. He blushes when hearing you laugh and he looks away from you

"You're really cute. Do you want to hang out?"

"Hang out? You and me?"

"Yeah, there's actually a diner close by-"

"Of course. I mean yeah, that'd be cool"

You start hanging out more after that and Eddie is secretly losing his mind

You're hanging out with him

Wow- He feels like he's dreaming

When you ask him to be your boyfriend, he's sure that he's dead and in heaven

Richie Tozier

You both fucking hate each other when you first met

You bully the hell out of each other, trying to get the last word

"Why are you late?"

"Sorry, I was fucking your mom."

"Well, I'm glad you could enjoy someone's mom since you don't have one"

He rolls his eyes, mocking you, because he has no insult to throw back without sounding like he was offended

Things change when he gets older and he realizes that he likes you

it started when he'd see things in his everyday life that reminded him of you

At first he was irritated and he wanted to destroy those things [Flowers, rocks, tree bark, a cloud, the way his food is placed, a game/game character, etc]

But then, he realized these things made him happy. You made him happy, even when he tried to fight it

He began to cherish these things and anything he could preserve and keep, he would

He has a shrine dedicated to those things. Nothing ever directly linked to you, but just things that make his mind go to you

Neither of you will ask the other out, because you two are two prideful- Actually, it'll be an accident when one of you confesses

You two will be fighting and one of you will comment about how the other is pretty/handsome as an insult and the other turns around and is like "You like me?" You'll be blushing and the person who insulted the other will deny it, but whoever was insulted will be like "I like you two."

Stanley Uris

Stan is very mature for a boy his age and that's what attracts you to him

He doesn't really notice you at first, because he doesn't have time for dating and he's more worried about keeping his things in order

You try approaching him multiple times, but you usually get shrugged off

You can go to the temple and wait until after Prayer hall, Shacharit, or the morning blessings, but he'll probably spot you and avoid you. If you're not Jewish, you'll approach his father, the Rabbi, telling him about your interest in the culture

"You can't just be Jewish. You know that right? It's a long progress-"

"I'm okay with that. I'm interested in the culture, language, and history"

He's impressed with your knowledge and interest that he's willing to take you under his wing

Stanley then becomes jealous, because you're becoming closer with his father than he ever was

You get progressively better at speaking from The Torah

"There's this girl who keeps coming to the Temple. I've been avoiding-"

"Wait, there's a girl who's actively seeking you out and you're avoiding her??? Because???"

Stanley rolls his eyes, "It-"

"Is she ugly?"

"No-"

"Are you gay?"

"What? No-"

"Then why are you avoiding her?"

"It's stupid-"

"Spit it out."

"Well, she's not even Jewish, but my dad treats her like she's been going to the Temple her whole life. So, she learns a little Hebrew so what? Anyone can do that."

"Oh, you're jealous and have daddy issues. Got it"

His father acts kind of like your dad. Tries setting you up with a good guy so you'd be set for later in life. Get you incredible connections

When you'll finally get him alone, he busts. He yells at you and he realizes all his anger about his father out on you

Though, when he sees you cry, he quickly stops and he feels so bad

He didn't mean to make you cry. God he felt so bad

He quickly apologizes and this creates a friendship between you both

You can tell him any secret. He'll never tell a soul

You can depend on him for anything. You're the only thing his father likes about him

"Why can't you have Y/n's dedication? She wasn't even born into a Jewish family."

He complains to you about his father, and you're always open to listen to him

Though, he's scared of nearly everything, so you usually are the braver one in the relationship

You have to beg him to go anywhere with you, because he doesn't like being around people

He just sticks with you the entire time

Beverly Marsh

She was very confident when approaching you, but it was fake

She's the type of person to lean on some boxes and then they fall over

She loves brushing and playing with your hair

She thinks it [your hair] is so pretty

She'll hum to you while she brushes it/plays with it

She asked you out. She was very bold about it

She goes after what she wants and she wants you

She'll make sure the moment is perfect

You're alone and the night is beautiful [Though nothing like you]. The wind is blowing just right and the light from one of the post is shinning your face like a halo

If you ever get into a fight with her, she'll avoid you for days/weeks

She doesn't want to, but it's a tactic she knows will get you crawling back

Mike Hanlon

He puts your needs before his own

He's sweet and whenever you have a problem he's always there to listen

He's a smart kid and will always help you with your homework

And by help, I mean he'll do it for you

Hope you like band music, because that's his favorite type of music

He does have a tiny little issue where he lies to make you happy. He's scared of losing you and just wants to keep you close

He doesn't do it on purpose, it kind of just happens

When you find out, you're livid and he understands, but he doesn't apologize. He think he's doing the right thing

You can be mad at him, but you'll always get over it, because you can never be mad at him for long

He doesn't gaslight you on purpose, but he does do it sometimes

"So what, you don't love me anymore?"

"Of course I love you!"

"Well, you're sure not acting like it-"

Ben Hanscom

He's really insecure about himself and his weight, thankfully you make him not feel like he's a pig

In fact, you don't mention it all; It's not something you notice

You always pick up when he's sad and always do whatever it takes to cheer him up

You try and help him cope with it healthy

Though, as he gets older, he starts to work out and you go with him. You don't want him to feel like everyone's staring at him or something

Whenever he's feeling like people are judging or staring you'll always divert attention to yourself, whether it's wearing something crazy or just making yourself look different and wild, you're willing to have people judge you as long as he doesn't feel judged [Does that make sense?]

He never judges you. In fact, he thinks you're way to good for him

Everything you do for him just makes him realize you're to good for him

If you're ever insecure, he's surprised

"What? You're like the prettiest person in the world! " He's absolutely flabbergasted

Absolutely adores you and follows you like a puppy

Practically attached to your hip

Bro's a little dependent on you ngl

#it chapter 1 #bill denbrough x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader #richie tozier x reader #stanley uris x reader #ben hanscom x reader #beverly marsh x reader #yandere bill denbrough #yandere eddie kaspbrak #yandere stanley uris #yandere richie tozier #yandere beverly marsh #yandere mike hanlon #yandere horror #yandere slasher

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ssentimentals · 1 year

Text

first crush {choi seungcheol}

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

prompt: 'you should pay rent of how much you live in my head.'

warnings: none, it's pure fluff as usual

seungcheol is with his friends at starbucks and they are discussing something, but he’s not listening, not really; his whole attention is focused on you and when that happens, everything else kind of fades into the background for him. you are standing not far up the queue and he already knows you are going to order one cappuccino venti with a small smile and always, always a polite 'please' and 'thank you' on your lips. he already knows you are going to glance at the caramel waffles on the counter, bite your lip in a debate whether to buy them or not and for whatever reason you always decide against them despite your obvious desire and it makes seungcheol sad every single time. for the last two months he has to resist the urge to come up to you with whole pack of those waffles, the only thing that’s stopping him is that you two are… nothing, in reality. not friends or at least acquaintances, not enemies, not strangers - just two people who have decided to take Economy 101 and now are suffering the consequences of that action.

seokmin, ever the gentle sunshine, nudges him with: 'some people find staring creepy, so maybe you can-'

'seok is trying to remind you that you have balls, so man up and make the first move,' jeonghan interrupts, grinning. 'we are not letting this one slide, my friend. it’s your first crush, after all!'

and that is exactly what makes everything bizarre for seungcheol - you are his first crush. he never understood what 'crush' even entails, because he never really found anyone particularly appealing or maybe he just never bothered with relationships being too focused on his studies; 'crush' never happened to him in that big sense, when one actually feels something close to the word that starts on 'L''. he did have his share of dates but nothing turned into something serious and no one stayed in his head the way you managed to do without even trying. seungcheol likes his routine and these unfamiliar feelings towards you were not part of it, which annoyed him at first but then he just accepted that thoughts about you became part of his day. his friends obviously noticed this change in him and got incredibly excited on the prospect of him finally having a crush on someone. ('it’s really not that big of a deal,' cheol tries to reason but they don’t even listen to him. 'you having a crush happens like once in a blue moon, of course it’s a big deal!'). so yes, he has a crush. he doesn’t really understand how others are not like him as well, because surely he can’t be the only one who notices how you stand out from the rest? it was intimidating at first but when he realized that you are single and no one is actively pursuing you, he relaxed and— did nothing. horrifyingly paralyzing fear of rejection stopped him from trying anything out (that one time when he came up to you with a question about upcoming exam does not count). which is also not seungcheol’s style, and it’s again unusual, unfamiliar, bizarre and oh god, he hates it.

'seat next to her is the only empty one,' seokmin notices and seungcheol doesn’t miss him and jeonghan sharing a knowing look. 'um, i suddenly remembered-'

'don’t you fucking dare.' seungcheol grabs both of them by elbows but he’s not quick enough.

'we have to go, my mom’s friend’s fish was left unattended, you see?' jeonghan’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and he pats cheol’s back in a mock comfort. 'but you said it yourself, atmosphere here helps you to focus better and you have to finish that paper, right? so stay and me and seokmin have to go.' little shit grabs seokmin’s hand and pushes him towards the exit. 'and remember cheollie - you have balls!'

cheol glances at your direction and you look too engrossed in the book to notice anything else, so he's a little relieved on that one. he quickly orders his usual americano and with zero hesitation also grabs two packs of caramel waffles, ignoring how his heart decided to gallop out of his chest at this moment. every step towards your table feels like a battle within himself and by the time he reaches you, seungcheol is mentally exhausted and his brain turns into mush because when you look up, all that comes out from his mouth is a rather rude 'that's for you' followed by thrown waffles in your direction. he realizes what he's done only seconds after but it's already too late: you look startled in a very, very unpleasant way. shit.

'shit,' he vocalizes, making you look at him again. 'fuck- i'm sorry for throwing them at you, i was going to- that was very rude, wasn't?' you nod and he sighs, resisting the urge to bump his head at the table. 'i'm sorry, i didn't mean to do that. shit, i really wish i could control myself better around you.'

his mouth finally shuts up and after a minute of a charged silence, you gesture at the empty seat in front of you. 'you wanted to take that one?'

seungcheol mutely nods, unmoving. you are looking at him like he's weird and he is, that's the thing, but you were not supposed to learn that right away. he hesitantly pulls up the chair and as you don't protest, he equally hesitantly sits on it, pulling out his laptop from the backpack. 'i'm sorry again,' he mutters and carefully slides waffles towards you. 'these are for you. i'm seungcheol, by the way, in case-'

'i know your name,' you interrupt quietly, raising your eyebrow. 'we are together in Economy 101 class. we even talked once, i think.'

'we did.' he confirms and again taps on the waffles. 'i notic- i mean, anyway, these are for you.' when you look at him with a very obvious question, he adds: 'just thought you would like them, you know.'

'you bought these waffles because you thought i would like them?' you ask, puzzled.

seungcheol nods. you are silent again and honestly? he's on a low head start of just sprinting the fuck out of here, because this might be the most awkward and embarrassing interaction he ever had in whole life and-

'think of me a lot then, seungcheol?'

he looks up in shock. you don't look mad - there's humor in your eyes and question is asked in a more teasing manner than anything else. corners of your lips are turned upwards and it looks like you are trying your hardest not to smile widely. you sound confident but he sees light blush dusting your cheeks and you're not fooling him, you are nervous too. seungcheol sits back, smiling.

'you should pay rent of how much you live in my head.'

your eyes widen a little and you duck your head, making him grin widely. your shoulders shake with a quiet laughter and seungcheol's mission instantly becomes to get out of here and hear your loud laugh, be the reason of it. when you look up, you are smiling and he feel his heart thump loudly in his chest. ah, so this is what differentiates 'crush' from everyone else. you are smiling at him and just this gesture makes him happy, just this is enough.

'i can take payment in different ways, by the way. i'm flexible like that,' he says, grinning.

'oh really?' you ask, smiling as well. 'what are the ways of paying?'

'giving me your number is the one that i feel most inclined to at the moment.' he unlocks his phone and slides it towards you. 'rest can be discussed.'

he refuses to acknowledge how adrenaline practically pumps through his veins as you enter the digits. you give it back to him and he calls instantly, lightning up when your phone starts buzzing. you laugh, shaking your head in amusement: 'you thought i'd given you a fake number?'

he shrugs, smiling. 'it's always good to check.' he then looks down at another pack of waffles and slides them to you as well. 'these ones are for you too.'

your smile is sincere when you accept them and your quiet 'thank you' warms his heart. he's too excited to concentrate on any work right now, so he stands up, ready to share great news with his friends. 'i'll text you,' he promises, gathering his laptop. 'please reply to me.'

you laugh loudly at this and he smiles. mission completed. 'i will, i promise.' you say. 'see you, i guess?'

he nods. 'see you very soon,' he confirms and runs away with a light heart and a huge smile on his face.

a/n: ah it's almost Christmas! hopefully you are all in a good place and are enjoying it to the fullest <3 here is the link to my other works, check them out as well! - nini

tag list: @pearlygraysky @woozionascooter @smalliechelle @jaetaimjadore @yeow6n (let me know if you want to be added!)

#choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x y/n #seungcheol fluff #seventeen fluff #seungcheol x reader #seventeen reaction #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeen seungcheol #svt seungcheol #scoups fluff #scoups #scoups scenarios #scoups seventeen

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iliiuan · 1 year

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I'm to the point where Gawyn actually makes a decision, and a lot of the criticism he receives seems misplaced to me. He makes shit choices because he has shit information because the women he trusts to provide him with information refuse to communicate. Elayne, then Siuan, and then Egwene all misused him.

He followed Elayne to Tar Valon and undertook his training there, doing his duty without complaint. Then his sister vanished. His mom freaked out. He worried, and also BLAMED HIMSELF.

When Elayne returned, I don't remember if she even bothered to say 'hi' in his direction before running off again. Now he's really worried. Siuan won't tell him anything. Min won't tell him anything. He's trying to keep Morgase from blowing a gasket. Galad's joining the Whitecloaks. And then... there's a coup. Siuan, having given him exactly zero reason to trust or back her, he knew Elaida as a respected advisor, and he thought that her ascent was legal. He also thought that he would be able to get the information he wanted out of Siuan. All of this makes sense.

Then he stumbles. The change in Amyrlin doesn't fix his problems. He still doesn't know where his sister is. He lets Min rescue Siuan (and Leane and Logain). I don't remember his reasoning, probably because it wasn't very good. This particular point was all him.

Now he has his Younglings, and Elaida wants him disappeared, and he's sent on the mission to scoop up the Dragon Reborn for Elaida. He's heard rumor that Rand murdered his mom, maybe his sister as well, and he has a bloodlust for revenge. All of this is really reasonable, frankly. Then he runs into Egwene.

Egwene has the power to divert Gawyn from his path of doom, but she instead chooses to ignore him (in the political sense) and withhold information from him, while also sort of using him as a spy but not very well. Instead of using her rather impressive people skills to push him onto a healthy path, she uses him for some snogging and makes him promise not to harm the person who is supposed to save the world. She doesn't tell him where Elayne is. She doesn't give him any evidence about Morgase beyond being a character witness for Rand. She doesn't explain about the fractured tower, nor emphasize her allegiance to the rebel faction. She makes no effort whatsoever to sway him to her side, to even try to convince him to abandon Elaida. She doesn't even respect him enough to read him in as a spy for her. She also seems to think that a low-level soldier will be able to protect Rand from Aes Sedai. You know the ones, the women who can channel? Yeah. Not fucking likely.

So off he goes, swimming with his misperceptions, making ever more desperate decisions, experiencing increasing trauma and stress, until he finally comes to his senses and seeks out Egwene's side.

What I'm really trying to emphasize here is that Egwene could have had him on her side beginning in Cairhien, but she couldn't be arsed.

So when he goes back to her, and people criticize her for being with his loser self, my heart deflates a little. He deserves so much better. Even if he is a loser.

I also find the claim that Gawyn exemplifies toxic masculinity to be backwards. If anything, Elayne and Egwene are the ones displaying the traits usually associated with toxic masculinity: arrogance, withholding information or training, refusing help and then being upset when the helper isn't around, seeing the opposite sex as deficient (this one is only Egwene), acting invincible/infallible, not listening to good advice because of the gender of the person giving it ... you see? Don't be fooled by his masculine-coded job of bodyguard; everything else about the gender roles in his world are reversed from ours. He has a prescribed support role, and when he can't fulfill it, he becomes lost. He doesn't get to determine his destiny, so he doesn't train in how to make life decisions, but rather in how to follow orders and to walk his prescribed path.

So much about Gawyn's journey matches with the experience of women in our world who were raised and trained to be homemakers, but then had to claw their way out of abusive relationships, or find meaning after infertility, or push forward as a single parent after being abandoned by a husband or family.

So yeah, I have a really difficult time accepting a lot of the scorn he gets, especially from supposedly feminist critique.

#wheel of time #wot spoilers #gawyn trakand #elayne trakand #egwene al'vere #siuan sanche

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chaosduckies · 3 months

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Restoration (Chapter 3)

I have no idea how I keep making the chapters even longer. I just somehow do. But, enjoy!

Word Count: 4,600

CW: Fear, mentions of death, panic attacks, reference to someone as an “it”, overthinking, slight trigger warnings

3-Nathan

When my mom finally came home from work yesterday, I was expecting her to get her plate of dinner and sit down on the couch putting on The Golden Girls like she usually does. What I wasn’t expecting was that she’d be getting a call from my teacher Mrs. Kay. The worst part about it was that they acted like they were such friends. Joking around and laughing. Had they even met each other? Most likely if my mom had kept it a secret that Mrs. Kay actually knew what happened to us in the past. Was mom the one who put me in that horrid class? No, she wouldn’t do anything against my will. Not unless she knew I would be ready for it.

They had talked on the phone for what seemed like hours. I was guessing Mrs. Kay was asking questions about me since my mom had mentioned me multiple times in their conversation, but I was raised not to ever eavesdrop. As I would be punished accordingly. But I wasn’t in that hell hole anymore. And I guess my fear was still pretty bad if I still thought I would be tortured for listening in on a conversation. What made anyone think I could even go to school with giants?

When I had woken up the next morning, it was to the sweet smell of my moms famous pancakes. The one dad always loved before we were kidnapped. I cringed at the thought, but forced myself out of bed and ready for the day, putting on a light purple shirt with a button up, blue sweater my mom bought me last month, and black jeans. I never wear anything that shows my arms. For good reason too.

I rushed down to the kitchen, where my mom had already place my plate on the very right edge of the kitchen island, giving a happy smile to me, “Morning, Sweetie.”

“What the occasion mom?” I laughed, taking my seat and staring down the pancake on my plate. She had always made them the best. Incomparable to even IHop’s pancakes.

“Oh well, I’m sure you can guess why. Last night I was told you were doing a little project with someone. As far as I knew you hadn’t made any friends, so I was getting worried, but now I know you were just embarrassed to tell me.” She giggled. What? Was she talking about Ryker. Oh no. No. Nononono. Not in a million years would I ever trust a giant ever again. Not after what they put my mom and I through.

“N-No! We’re not f-f-friends.” I stuttered, suddenly feeling bad for saying it out loud. Why? I was only speaking the truth. But that didn’t leave a very satisfying taste in my mouth once the words rolled of my tongue.

“Nate, your teacher told me some interesting things about that boy. Ryder was it? He really does sound like a nice guy. Maybe give him a chance? I know it’s hard for you honey.” She hugged me, her grip loose and weak, and planted a kiss on my forehead, giving a sad smile before digging into her breakfast. Now even my mom was saying that he was really nice. How was I supposed to believe that? For all I know all of those acts could have been acting. The little incident at lunch, him trying to talk to me, what if he was just trying to gain my trust to eventually backstab me? Just the thought was making my hands sake as I reached for my fork. I’d only have to hope that today doesn’t go wrong.

Mrs. Kay had told Ryker and I before we left to meet in her room, or more specifically the little office that was in her classroom. It was right by the many newsletters and papers that hung on to the wall presenting various fights and political issues in the city. I try not to pay attention, but we all knew that there was a growing number of riots all around from bother giants and humans.

I headed into her room, seeing that her room was crowded with what seemed like hundred of other students trying to find their partner. I was almost stepped on a few times had I not been practically running to get to the mini office in the back of the classroom. I guess that was just pure luck. Now I just have to hope that that luck pays off in here.

Inside, there was a teacher desk where currently my teacher was sitting at, looking at something on her computer. I turned my gaze somewhere else, seeing that there were two student desks, both with the same elevators for a human to get on top of one. Ryker was sitting at the one on the far right. There were piles of paper on the floor that looked like it needed to be read through and put in order and graded, and some magazines with a picture of one of the people from the riots on the front cover.

A quick glance back to the crowded room, and I was now face first with the elevator I was guessing I was supposed to take. Mrs. Kay nor Ryker even knew I was here, so if I wanted to back out and hide in the bathroom, now would be the time. Let’s see, if I did decide to hide in restrooms, someone is bound to find me and take me to the principal, but at least I wouldn’t be taken around everywhere like some pet, but my mom would hear about it and she would be mad at me. If I didn’t hide, Ryker would most likely try to keep talking to me and eventually forget I was even there. Maybe. If he doesn’t forget I’m there, he might want to mess around with my like I’m some kind of toy or plaything.

Both options were equally as bad. A tough decision to make, but I don’t exactly want my mother to have gone through all of this trouble for me to have a “normal” life, just for me to quit not even a quarter of the way through. That was cruel. But on the other hand, it would be even more cruel to be subdued to that same torture for who knows how long again. Forget it. Everyone’s going through all of this just for me, so I’ll make sure it’s not in vain. Maybe. If I can get through this.

I walked into the elevator, hand hovering over the same dreadful button I see everyday. I suck in a deep breath, pressing the buttons before changing my mind, and instantly regretting every single one of my choices. Wouldn’t I just be bothering these people? Ryker wouldn’t be bothered by me? As far as I know he’s already frustrated with me not even talking to him, and now I have to stick with him the entire school day in order for me to make it out alive. Maybe even literally.

Unconsciously, I pressed my back up against the back elevator wall, sliding down and holding my head between my knees. Everything felt dizzy, and it wasn’t because of my fear of heights. Was I having a panic attack? No, I would be breathing harder and I wouldn’t be able to think. It was just a little breakdown. In front of my teacher and potential kidnapper. Great introduction for the first day, Nathan. I hissed in my head, trying to stand back up, using the railing to hold myself up on shaky legs. There were a pair of eyes on me, and oddly enough it didn’t feel like a stab right to my back. No time to think about that when I was struggling to just keep my balance.

After struggling to regain my balance, I looked out where the elevator gate was open, revealing a huge black box I’m pretty sure was Ryker’s phone, his hand grabbing it and stuffing it in his pocket. I let out a quiet squeak as his hand moved fast, making me instinctively move back, and once again my back was pressed up against the wall. I made the wrong decision.

My heart was beating fast, and my thoughts were all jumbled up. Any chance of thinking clearly was gone, and now I was trapped inside the elevator unless they wanted to force me out. How can I become friends with someone who was much, much bigger than I was? Would he even want to? Or was he like those sadistic jerks that just want to mess around and act like we were just toys?

There were muffled voices outside, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying, more worried about how I would get out of here. I had calmed down enough to somewhat get thoughts through. If I make a run for it they could easily stop me. If I don't’ run they’ll force me out and punish me for not listening. Wait no- It’s a school why would they hurt a student? Were they even allowed to? Oh wait that’s off topic-

“Hey, um, Nathan? Are you okay?” It was Ryker’s voice. Just as soft as I remember. Too bad I was not in any condition to answer. I most definitely was not okay. Not in the least, and yet I still somehow found myself in this situation. If anything, him knowing I was there only made my heart race faster and my trembling even more severe.

The room stayed silent for a while as I calmed myself down. The first bell rang, signaling that there were five minutes until first period started, and I immediacy felt regret. I was going to make him late because I couldn’t even make it past this stupid elevator. Great. Even more guilt. But even more of a reason for me to get out. I was calmed down enough, and surprisingly I didn’t have a complete panic attack. Now the only thing I have to get past was how he would be carrying me.

Taking one step at a time, I made my way to right in front of Ryker, occasionally tripping over my own feet and catching my balance at the last second, but I made it. I never lifted up my head, scared that I would lose any and all confidence that remained in me if we hade made eye contact. Especially when I had the feeling he would know that I was really, really terrified for my life.

“Ryker? You can handle the rest?” I hear Mrs. Kays ecstatic voice, typing away at her computer. I jumped seeing him move his hand slightly towards me, shutting my eyes tightly and expecting for him to grab me like I used to be, or even dangled in the slightest, but it never came. To my complete and utter shock, he laid his hand palm up on the very edge of the desk, waiting for me to approach. I gulped. I had never done this before.

I had always been grabbed or dangled around, never given the option of being held. It was either in a tight fist that usually resulted in a few broken ribs, or casually being used as a toy for kids. I shuddered at the memory.

Still, this was a surprise. I wasn’t expecting this, and now I felt insecure about how to get on. Do I just jump? Walk? Run? I mean the guy from yesterday had just dragged me on, so this is technically my first time. He just jumped right on. Could I do the same? But Ryker knows Lucky. He doesn’t know me. Maybe only people who Ryker knows are allowed to do that.

Curse my overthinking.

I waited for Ryker to get impatient with me, but it never happened. His hand stayed still, never once reaching for me in anticipation. Maybe a minute had gone by. Th longest minute of my life, but that’s when he eventually gave a sympathetic look towards me, “Have you done this before?” Not willingly, no.

I shook my head almost immediately with no hesitation, feeling terrible for making him wait this long. I dug my head in my hands, feeling all the extra wight of guilt on my shoulders. I’m ruining everything.

“No it’s… it’s fine. Just whatever makes you comfortable.” He told me, a hint of sadness in his tone. What would he sad about?

I took shaky steps to the edge, seeing how I should do this and eventually just walking on. I mean, it worked out, but I fell face first into the fleshy surface. Somehow this wasn’t the first time that I’ve face planted into Ryker’s palm. He let out a chuckle, “You okay?”

How do I even begin to answer? Words were not enough to express the amount of fear that was building up inside me. Not even enough to describe red my face turned from embarrassment. This was the worst feeling ever, but I still managed a weak nod before settling in the center of his hand, trying to stay away from all possible ways to fall down to my imminent death. Not something I would like to enjoy.

He slowly stood up, grabbed his backpack and headed down the hall to his next class that really wasn’t even that far from this one. At least it wasn’t far for him.

There were tons of students in this class, making me feel insecure and tiny. I wasn’t used to being around this many giants. Especially ones that seemed to notice me and give out looks. But they weren’t directed to me. All directed to Ryker, who just sighed and headed to his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world how others looked at him like he was some wild animal. How does he do that?

I was expecting him to just throw me onto the desk, but he let his palm down, letting me get off safely without spraining an ankle or getting the wind knocked out of me. I would have thanked him had I not been terrified. I stood awkwardly on his desk, my thoughts a jumbled up mess. What do I do? I mean of course I have my own work to do on the computers we were given, but I was talking about what do I do now that I was on the desk.

Ryker was pulling out a journal and a book from his backpack and placed them near me, but not so close that I jumped in fear of him dropping that onto me. He glanced in my direction, flashed a smile and dug out whatever else he needed for this class. I looked down, noticing that I was pretty much smack in the middle of his desk. I was in his way.

Before my knees gave out on me, I hurried to the edge of the desk, and forced myself not to look down at the impossible height I was at. I felt stares, but most weren’t directed at me. I groaned to myself, hating the fact that I was being watched. They were just curious, but I’d rather not have to worry about someone constantly having me under their eye. It didn’t feel right.

The final bell rang, and that’s when class had started.

I didn’t even realize how shaky I was until Ryker lightly tapped on the desk in front of me, making me flinch and avert my attention to him. He flashed a sad smile, giving a thumb up as if asking if I was okay. I most definitely was not, but I forced myself to give a shaky nod and pulled out my computer.

Every so often I would jump or react when he had moved to grab something near me or was just flipping a page. I was doing a pretty good job since I haven’t ran off yet. Not that I could without having twenty pairs of eyes on me. Otherwise, everything was going great.

In all honesty, it really wasn’t too bad if I just did the same things over and over again. Ryker took me to his classes, I had somehow never failed to fall face first the second I took a step onto his palm, resulting in him asking if I was okay. During his classes, I moved out of his way before he ended up getting annoyed with me, which I was expecting but never came. Odd. But there was no way I was going to test his patience. It could all go downhill from there.

For lunch, I just sat with at the table Ryker usually sits at, trying to make it easier on him. Both of us never ate lunch apparently. He sat on his phone, while I just finished up some notes from my physics class. He didn’t try to make a conversation with me, only the occasional yes or no questions. If I was okay. Did I want to move. Those sorts of things.

What didn’t sit right with me was how he flashed me sad looks every time I moved away from him or when I jumped. It’s like he felt bad for making me feel scared. Why? It was so weird to see how he cared so much about how I felt when I cared so much about how he felt towards me. Wasn’t he annoyed with having to take care of me? I would be if I had to constantly carry about something that didn’t even look grateful for the help.

The rest of the day was easy. He had his seventh period off, taking us to the library along with four other people who were currently playing Uno. He let me on the ground where there was an entrance to the human side of the library, telling me that I was probably tired of being around him all day and I could have some time alone if I wanted to.

So now here I was in a quiet library where two teachers were talking about something and I just sat here trying to stay calm. Only forty more minutes and I was free. Eight more school days and I wouldn’t have to do this ever again hopefully. Good. I could barely keep up with one day, let alone the rest of the school year? Nope. I do not want that on my to-do list.

It was three minutes before the bell rang, and I decided not to keep Ryker waiting like this morning. It was rude, and I really didn’t want him to be late because I couldn’t even get on his hand without going under a breakdown. I’m just lucky he hasn’t even mentioned anything about this morning.

I walked back into the library, seeing that the people who were playing Uno already left for class while Ryker was sitting down on the couch reading that same book he took out this morning. He didn’t seem bothered at all. Well, that might change after carrying me around for two weeks.

I looked around, trying to find a way to get on the table or really anything to stand up on for him to see me, but there was nothing. There were no elevators in this library. Heck. What do I do now though? The bell’s going to ring soon and Ryker doesn’t even realize. Of course everything has to go downhill right when it’s almost the end of the day. Life hates me.

Yelling was under no circumstance an option. Getting closer to him wasn’t either. I’d just have to hope he realizes soon enough. And luckily, he closes his book and looks towards the door that leads to the human side and sees me. Good. I was not about to yell for him to notice me. Not at all.

He shoved the book in his backpack before standing up and walking slowly towards me, but I couldn’t stop the quiet squeak that escaped my mouth. He was tall. Really, really tall. Even for a giant. How did I not realize this sooner? My breath hitched in my throat as I looked down to the ground. Seeing him sitting at a desk was one thing, but him standing up to his full height while I was on the ground? Not something I wanted to see.

He must have caught on because he crouched down, holding a hand out. Either that or he just wanted to get going. I hurried on, hoping he wouldn’t catch that I was trembling extremely violently.

“Sorry. Were you waiting long?” He asked me. I bit the side of my cheek, shaking my head. I lied.

As soon as the last class of the day started, Mrs. Kay walked in looking cheery as always, “How’d everyone’s day go?” She had asked, earning a few answers from students. Apparently they all had a great time. It’s because they were already friends and used to this.

“I’m glad you all enjoyed it. Today is a free day, so finish up whatever work you have in other classes or talk with your partner. Get to know one another.”

The whole room was bustling with bright conversation while I still couldn’t even say one word to Ryker. A part of me really wanted to. I mean, I was being rude by not actually giving any effort at all to talk, but at the same time I feel like I would just be more annoying to him.

Mrs. Kay came over to us, smiling and keeping her posture as she checked on students as she came down the isle. I winced, already knowing what might happen. She’s going to tell us to talk. Ryker has only asked me simple questions today, and I always either nodded my head or shook it. Meaning I haven’t spoken a single word to him for the week and half. Honestly, I was kind of jealous that others could laugh and joke around with their partners while I couldn’t so much as open my mouth to speak. Some great partner, huh?

“How did today go you two?”

I didn’t bother looking, too embarrassed to answer. Ryker was about to complain to her about everything that was wrong with me and there was nothing I could do about it. Because he isn’t wrong, even if I don’t know what he’ll say. I was weak, pathetic, scared, my bones were even more breakable than a normal humans because of how many times they’ve been broken in the past, I was a lot shorter than the average human, I wasn’t strong. You’re broken. That last thought hangs in the back of my mind and leaves a sour taste on my tongue.

Who knew, maybe he would get an actual partner that could keep a conversation with him. Or to entertain him long enough. Just get me out of here already so I can-

“It was good.” Was all Ryker answered with, and I could somehow hear the smile on his face.

I didn’t know if this was some kind of trick or not, but if it is, then it’s awful. He has to be lying. There has to be something he can say other than “it’s good.” Seriously. I’m pretty sure Ryker grew tired of my at some point in time.

“And how about you Nathan?” The question directed to me.

What do I answer? “I didn’t die?” Or “All my limbs are intact.” Or my body answers for me instead, nodding shakily as I eye the elevator door. Maybe I could get out of here? No one would notice, and as long as Ryker wasn’t looking I could just slip away… No. There’s only about twenty minutes left of class. I can hopefully survive until then.

“Have you two talked at all?” Mrs. Kay asked, a hint of anxiousness in her tone. It’s because she knows from my mom. That’s what my mom was talking to her about. How I reacted to being around giants. Great. Because I needed more people trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

I didn’t bother knowing if Ryker nodded or shook his head. I hated my overthinking. So, so much. All terrible possible outcomes, and that’s all I can think about. That I’ll never live the life I used to live ever again. That no one will figure out whatever was wrong with me. That I’ll never be able to trust a person again. I miss the days when dad would just lie down with me on the cold, metal floor of our cage and keep telling me everything was alright when nothing was.

Wait.

Why was I talking about that?

I wish my overthinking would just go away.

“Hmm. Alright. I said these next two weeks would be fun, and I have the best idea for that.” She giggled, but I could hint that little bit of worry hidden in her words. This wasn’t going to end well for me.

She walks up to the front of the room, “I really wasn’t planning on everyone getting along so well right away, but this is apparently a faster class, so, here’s a little fun I’ve thought of!” She started off, “I want you to go to to each other’s houses. Or, more specifically your bigger partner.” She joked, and a couple laughed along.

But this wasn’t funny to me. Apparently not to Ryker either. We both stared wide-eyed at our teacher, probably both wondering the same thing. Why did she do this?

There really was no way out of this. I thought I would pass by these next eight days with just having to deal with school, but now I have to go to his house? What would his parents think of me? I’m literally bothering him afterschool and that’s probably his time to destress and not be bothered by anyone, which was the complete opposite of what I’d be doing.

“Now, it can be anytime between now and next Friday. You are not required to stay over for the night, but I would like either one of your parents to sign off, proving that it happened. If there are any problems, please take it up with me after class.”

She smiled, and sat down at her desk, probably making the slips we were now supposed to get signed by either one of our parents. But, as I looked back to Ryker, he didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look happy either. His hands were clenched into fists, he was biting the inside of his cheek, and I did not like how close his hands were to me.

Soon enough, the class was filled with excited conversation again. I somehow worked up the courage to turn around, and Ryker was staring out the window, and then his eyes met mine, making me jump. Great turn of events. I wasn’t expecting that.

“How do you feel about being in a house with five other people?” He awkwardly asked, worry encasing every word he said. I quickly shook my head. No. Five people? So him… his parents… does that mean he has two other siblings? Oh heck. No. No this cannot be happening. I can’t even handle one person let alone five?

Ryker gave a sad smile, “Sorry litt-… Nathan. I’ll just tell her afterschool that you don’t feel comfortable with this. I’m not going to force you.”

I had no idea what he was going to call me before, but I didn’t care. I was more shocked at how he willingly offered to tell Mrs. Kay for me that I couldn’t do this. Why?

Maybe he wasn’t that bad after all.

—————————————

Wow. That’s long. But thank you for reading! I hope you’re all enjoying reading this just as much as I am writing it! I promise the next chapter will really explain a lot. For now, enjoy this last-minute drawing I did of Nathan.

#g/t #G/t writing #G/t art #g/t community #sfw g/t #my art #gt #Oc:Nathan #Oc:Ryker #G/t angst #G/t fearplay #restoration #I surprised myself with how long that chapter was #I think I’m going to do something a little special for the next chapter #I’m glad you’re all enjoying this!#Giant/tiny

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angel-gone-south · 7 months

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Psycho Killer

Killer! Butters w/ Detective! Reader

emeto warning. nsfw mention. murder. (choking and gore) you’ve been warned.

°•. ☾ .•°

Butters was a good kid. He was a good kid, he swears and he promises. It’s a shame nobody’s ever believed him though.

His father was ‘on a late shift.’ Butters and Linda knew what he was doing, truly. Out getting his ass rammed by some guy who didn’t give two shits if he was married or not.

It was October. Halloween was less than a week away, but it’s not like his parents would ever let him participate. The most he’d ever been allowed to do was carve a pumpkin and go trick or treating a few times, mostly in secret. Linda called it evil, the devil’s day. Stephen couldn’t give two shits, but he couldn’t be bothered to fight with his wife either.

Butters knew their marriage falling apart was his fault. When he was a kid he found out his father was ‘wrestling’ around with other men, and his mother went psycho. She tried to drown him, and then cover it all up.

Perhaps that’s why, when she started her usual berating as he was unloading the dishwasher, he snapped back at her.

“Leopold I will never understand why you’re always out of the house. It must be that Kenny boy getting you hooked on drugs or sex or something,” She started. Before she could get another word out, her son had dropped the stack of ceramic plates in his hands. “Oh, now look what you’ve done, you fucking idiot! You’ve ruined your grandmother’s nice plates. Go get the broom.”

But he didn’t move. His fists were at his sides, arms shaking and tears dripping down his quickly reddening cheeks.

“No. Fuck you.” His mother gasped incredulously.

“Leopold, you do not talk to your mother that way, you insolent-!” She choked. Her son’s slender hands wrapped around her throat as he sobbed.

“Will you just shut up for once?! I don’t need you to tell me everything I’m doing is wrong! I know you hate me! You’re just- you’re such a fucking bitch!” He slammed her back into the wall as she clawed at his hands that shook with the force and pressure he was exerting.

“L-Le.. Leo-” Her gasping enraged the poor boy even further.

“NO! It’s my turn to talk goddamnit, and you have to listen! I know I’m not the perfect son, but I do what you ask! I’ve always done everything you’ve ever asked of me, no questions! I didn’t even fucking tell anyone you tried to kill me! For once can you act like a good mom?!”

He hadn’t even registered he was doing it. She couldn’t breathe as her only son brutally smashed her head against the army green walls of their kitchen.

It must have been ten or twenty minutes before he calmed down and dropped her limp body. Butters stood in a trance, staring at the blood and brain that smeared down the wall. For a few minutes he felt strangely calm, the only noises he could hear his breathing and the furnace kicking in.

The front door opened. The blonde boy was still on autopilot, so he moved to the living room. Little splats of blood covered his face and shirt, hardly noticeable from a distance. As his father opened the door, he noticed his son staring him down with dead eyes. The milky white of one of them had never failed to perturb Stephen- especially because he couldn’t remember why it was like that or how he got the scar that ran through it. Everything about his son he saw as freakish.

“Butters? Where do you think you’re going? Where’s your mother? Linda? Linda!”

Butters was silent as he moved closer to meet eyes with his father. In the past years he’d finally grown to be taller than the closeted man.

“She’s in the kitchen.” Butters’s voice wasn’t more than a whisper. Stephen could barely move before he noticed his son was holding one of the knives from the drawer.

“What are you doing with that, you little freak?” His fate was sealed. Butters twisted it as he jabbed his father in the stomach, unfeeling for the man who’d abused him all these years.

“Righting a wrong,” That was the simple statement as he kneeled with his father, shushing him as he choked and groaned in pain. “It’s your fault.”

°•. ☾ .•°

When you went into work on the morning of October 26th, you expected nothing different. South Park was the quietest town you’d ever been in. Go in, maybe find a missing cat or two, and go home.

On this particular day a young man about your age ran up to you. He was absolutely frantic, ranting and raving like a fucking madman. You stopped your coworkers from detaining him, instead grasping his hand gingerly and bringing him into a back room where he could have a hot drink and calm down.

“What’s your name?”

“Kenneth. McCormick. I-I live down past the train tracks. I-I woke up to a letter on my nightstand. I-It was from my best friend. Leopold. H-Here.” He passed you a piece of notebook paper.

‘Ken.

I’m sorry. I have to go.

See you someday, okay?

Leo’

“I didn’t know what to do. He’s gone. I-I tried to go inside his house a-and it’s locked. Please check on him. I hear his parents didn’t show up to work this morning either.” You pat his hand, holding it in both of yours.

“We’ll do our best, honey. Go on home now.” Your stomach sank as he left.

Leopold Stotch was a boy you knew all too well. You grew up with him, only a year older than the boy. You never were brave enough to stop the other kids from picking on him. He and Officer Barbrady were the reasons you decided to become a law enforcement officer. ‘Protect the innocent’ was your personal mantra.

You huddled into your jacket as you knocked at the Stotch household door. When nobody answered for several minutes, you peeked in one of the windows.

You paled, and your stomach twisted. You radioed in, speaking frantically. When the others pulled up you’d already managed to shakily pick the lock, kicking the door open softly.

It smelled awful. This shit was not your cup of tea, for sure. Rotten meat, sickly sweet. You nearly upchucked your breakfast, especially at the mere glance into the open kitchen where Linda’s brains splayed across the wall and her back.

You shivered, leaving and sitting on the curb as some of the other officers phoned the coroner. You stared at the ground, knowing that if they didn’t find him too, well, there’s only one person to blame.

Butters.

°•. ☾ .•°

His leg bounced as he sat in the motel room he’d booked. He thought about calling you. Turning himself in. You’d probably help him, be a character witness to him and his parents, right? He could plea temporary insanity. The murders were messy and hasty and he had left the knife and his dirty clothes in a pile in his room.

His eyes bore holes into the burner phone he held, and his teeth bit down hard on his lower lip when he finished your number. He hit enter, trembling as he brought the cell to his ear.

“Hello, you’ve reached [Name]. How can I help you?” He teared up at your voice, his own scratchy as he spoke.

“Gosh, [Name], you sound so pretty nowadays.”

“Leopold?! Leopold, where the fuck are you? Do you even know what happened?” He chuckled. You always were one for silly, frivolous questions.

“Yeah. I did it,” For a moment he felt almost proud, but the pangs and stabs of guilt ushered themselves back in quickly. “I didn’t mean to. Sh-she started yellin’, and I grabbed her, and then dad came home and… well. You’ve seen what I’ve done.”

“Leo you have to come back,” Your voice strained. He wished your distress wasn’t caused by him. “We can work this out. Y-you just snapped, went crazy, right?l

“I can’t. You know what they’ll do to me. I’m not made for prison, darlin’.” Your heart fluttered at the nickname and you cursed the blush that rose to your wet cheeks.

“Leo, please,” He cut off your begging.

“I can’t. But I couldn’t live with myself if I never said goodbye to you. I love you, okay? I… I wish it coulda been different, though. Woulda liked to marry you, maybe. I always wanted to hold you, wondered what it felt like.” His admission wracked a sob from your throat.

“I love you too.”

“Goodbye, sweet thing.” With that, Butters brought his heavy boot down on the cheap burner phone, severing your connection, permanently.

°•. ☾ .•°

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dragonflylady77 · 1 year

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Steve's Pick

Billy/Steve | Teen | 1.5k

No Upside Down, First Kiss, Flirty Banter

Square: A2 - Love At First Sight for @billyhargrovebingo

Summary:

Steve heard the bell chime when a customer walked in so he looked up and who the fuck was the sex god who’d just walked into Family Video?

Steve was barely paying attention to whatever Henderson was saying anymore and only barely remembered to warn the kid with a distracted, “Sorry, customer, gotta go,” before he clumsily put the receiver down, his eyes still on the hot stranger.

Read on Ao3

***

“So you’ll do it?”

Steve sighed, wishing his shift would end already so he could go home and crash, instead of listening to whatever issue Dustin had had with Mike fucking Wheeler. Again. He looked at the clock. Half an hour to go. Wednesday afternoon shifts usually dragged but this one had to be the worst one ever.

“Steve? Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, Dustin, fine, whatever.” He rolled his eyes, never happier that the shop was currently deserted. He guessed that everyone was at the movies, catching the new releases. Lucky them.

“Steeeeeeeve!”

Henderson’s whiny voice pulled him back into the present.

“Oh my god, what? I’m at work, you know that right?”

“I am aware. But I also know there is no one there. It’s Wednesday, Steve. So will you tell Mike you agree we should let Max in the Party?”

Steve heard the bell chime when a customer walked in so he looked up and who the fuck was the sex god who’d just walked into Family Video?

He looked like he was around Steve’s age and was wearing the familiar Hawkins Community Pool fire engine red shorts, matched with a black button down with weird flowers that vaguely looked like figs on it. But he’d only buttoned the bottom two buttons and Steve was absolutely failing in his effort to tear his eyes away from the guy’s golden chest.

Steve was so glad it was Robin’s day off and that Keith hadn’t bothered to come in today. He wouldn’t have been able to deal with either of their ridiculing remarks at the amount of unabashed staring he was doing right now.

The most perfect chest Steve had ever seen stopped on the other side of the counter and Steve lifted his eyes to take in the face of an angel. Blue eyes like the ocean he’d only seen on TV, a dusting of freckles over his nose, curls of the lightest brown, almost blond, and a mouth made for kissing.

Fuck.

“Hey there,” the beautiful stranger said. Goddamn if his voice wasn’t just husky enough to make Steve’s dick stir in his pants from that one word.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video, I’m Steve. What can I do to you, um, I mean, for you?”

Steve felt his cheeks heat up and half expected to get punched for his slip up but the stranger laughed instead—the most enchanting laugh ever heard in Hawkins, Indiana, for sure. Then the man smiled and Steve worried he might just jizz in his pants from it.

“Well, hi, Steve. I’m Billy. I just moved here from California with my sister and her mom and I—”

“Oh god, why?” Steve couldn’t fathom swapping sunny California for Bumfuck, Indiana.

Billy laughed again and Steve fell in love. “Long story… could tell you over a beer sometime when you’re free.”

“I’m free every night,” Steve replied before he could stop the words from escaping his mouth.

Billy grinned and leaned forward on the counter, crossing his arms and making his biceps bulge a bit. Steve wanted to sink his teeth into them.

“Is that so, pretty boy?”

“Uh huh, it gets awful lonely too, just me in that big house, day after day, night after night. I mean, my parents didn’t even bother showing up when I graduated high school last year so yanno, who can say when they’ll come back and thank god they’re happy to keep paying the bills because there’s no way I could afford the bills…” Steve was aware he was word-vomiting but couldn't make himself stop as Billy looked at him with an increasingly amused smile. “And then I’d have to move and like, live under a bridge or something, because there’s no way I’d even be able to afford a tiny trailer at Forest Hills with what Keith pays here and oh my god, I need to shut up, I’m sorry.”

Steve stopped rambling and hid his face in his folded arms, banging his head onto the counter in the process. He’d for sure hear the bell now, as Billy ran away as fast as his feet could carry him…

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Aw, babe, don’t say that, you’re not stupid,” Billy said, his fingers gently tangling into Steve’s hair. “Come on now.”

Steve froze. He’d said that out loud? Shit. And Billy was still there?

Billy’s hands dropped from his hair as Steve slowly lifted his head to find Billy was now leaning halfway over the counter, his gorgeous face a few inches away. Steve watched, entranced, as Billy swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. He wanted to kiss that boy on the mouth if it was the last thing he did.

“Am I dreaming right now? Did I make you up with my mind? Is that why you’re so perfect?”

“Aw Stevie, I’m flattered but I’m far from perfect, just ask my sister.” “Okay, I will.” Steve paused. “Who’s your sister? What’s her name?\”

Billy grinned. “Max. Small, red head, bit of a bitch.”

“About fifteen, rides a skateboard?” Steve was pretty sure he knew who the girl was, a recent tentative addiction to the Party, much to Mike’s vocal dismay

“You do know her. I don’t know if I should be impressed or creeped out.”

Steve let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Billy, it’s a small town and I work at the only video store.”

“Duly noted. Anyway, Heather at the pool said you were the guy to talk to about where to go for a good time.”

“Heather Holloway? Oh boy. She was definitely pulling your leg.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. Billy, I’m sorry, I have no clue what the cool kids are up to these days.”

Dammit, now Billy would leave and Steve would never know what it was like to bask in the attention of a god.

“That’s okay,” Billy said, his grin getting wider.

What?

“It is? But a second ago you said—”

“Steve?” Billy asked, moving slightly forward, narrowing the gap between them.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Steve replied, leaning towards Billy, mesmerised by how his blue eyes now looked nearly black. He smelled so good up close, Steve wanted to wrap himself around him and never let go.

“What time do you get off?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.” Steve couldn’t believe he’d just said that but he wasn’t taking it back. What was that saying his dad kept throwing at him? Fortune favours the bold? Well, Steve was being bold as fuck right now, because he didn’t want the golden stranger—Billy— to leave. He’d seen the light and he wanted to follow Billy, wherever that led.

Billy chuckled. “Smooth.”

Steve shrugged. “They didn’t call me King Steve in high school for nothing.” “I heard they called you that for another reason,” Billy replied with a knowing smirk.

“Ah, that.” Steve felt his cheeks heat up.

“Yes, that. Any truth in that rumour?” Billy asked, his face now a couple of inches away from Steve’s.

“Would you like to find out?” Steve’s eyes dropped to Billy’s mouth then back to his eyes. He grinned.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

Steve decided he didn’t want to wait any longer to find out what kissing Billy tasted like. He didn’t even look at the clock, Keith would just have to deal. Wednesday nights were dead anyway. “You know, I think my shift just ended.”

“Brilliant,” Billy whispered, his hands cupping Steve’s elbows now. “Isn’t it just?” Steve whispered back, leaning closer.

“Can I kiss you?” Billy asked, his mouth now so close that Steve could feel Billy’s breath on his lips.

“Yes.”

The word was barely out that Billy’s mouth was on his, his tongue eagerly licking into Steve’s mouth. They moved sideways to the end of the counter a foot away, still kissing, then the second they could, their hands were all over the other. Steve buried his fingers in Billy’s golden curls while Billy’s hands went lower, sliding down sides, before grabbing handfuls of his ass and pulling him closer.

Steve moaned out loud when he felt Billy’s dick pressing against his and he wished they were in his bedroom instead of his place of employment.

“Oh my god, Billy! Gross! I leave you alone for two seconds and you’re already sucking face with the first guy you find?”

Billy ended the kiss and moved his hands to Steve’s waist before turning to face his sister. The look on Max’s face went from grossed out to surprised.

“Steve?”

“Hi Max.” Steve waved at her, feeling rather embarrassed at having been caught like that.

“Shitbird, apologise to my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfr—” Max rolled her eyes and stomped her foot. “You’re unbelievable. I bet you didn’t even get the movie Mum wanted.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #dragonflylady77 #guin writes harringrove #dfl writes #billy hargrove bingo prompts #billy hargrove bingo

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lucius-morningstar · 24 days

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Common Ground (Part 3)

The first little story slightly rouses Vaggie into another question, one Lucius isn't any happier to answer now then he was then. ----- Vaggie: I'm going to ignore the Piccolo Flute thing, cause that image in my head hurts. Lucius: How do you think I felt, ever peed out of more then one hole. Vaggie: Eww man, gross. Lucius: It was, why'd you stop if it wasn't the flute thing? Vaggie: Can I ask how you feel about your dad now, your mom? Lucius: I wish you wouldn't. Vaggie: I just want an idea of what's going on, you and Charlie talk very little about your folks. Lucius: Not so much now regarding "dad" on Charlie's side.. Vaggie: I don't think she's forgiven him.. Just happy he's around now and trying I guess. Lucius: ...Wish he had tried a little harder back then. Vaggie: Do you hate them? Lucius: No, it takes a lot of energy to hate someone. I can hate Adam more then I can hate my parents, but even then hate is a strong word. Am I angry at them, sure but I think I have a right to be. They don't realize that they weren't the only ones struggling. I don't know how Charlie can put a bright side onto everything onto dad, onto mom, onto hell and onto heaven. Just.. She must be so tired. To have so much faith in those who don't even consider you an afterthought. Vaggie: I'm sure your parents thought and cared about you more then you think. Lucius: Then answer me something Vaggie. Why didn't he stop her from leaving, why didn't he beg for us to stay.. Why'd he only contact us on birthdays or special occasions. He didn't even remember Charlie had set up a hotel and she had told him more then once. Why hasn't mom contacted us, why hasn't she tried to send word or be there when Charlie sent call, after call, voice message after voice message.. She thinks I don't know it but I had to listen to her cry at night. Every night she'd shed tears for those who didn't deserve fuck all. They had the most amazing child and they practically pushed her-.. Pushed us aside. Mom tried for a bit but then she left, she wouldn't tell me why, or where or how long and to be honest. I don't think she's fucking coming back and I hope she doesn't! Vaggie: ... Lucius: I didn't even want him back, because I'm so scared he'll get her hopes up again and just bring her down all over again. I know he says he wants to be of help this time but I just don't believe him. I know part of her wants too I know she does but- Vaggie: Lucius. Lucius: What? Vaggie: During all this you barely mentioned how you felt about it. Only about how Charlie should feel or does feel. What about how you feel? Lucius: I don't care about how I feel. I'm use to them letting me down and I know better then to let them in again but Charlie is always wanting to see the best in them even when they let her down for years and I know if mom comes back, Charlie will welcome her with open arms but I just wish she'd be angry. I wish she'd hate them a little bit. I spent so many years looking out for her, my own feelings always came second and that never has bothered me. Vaggie: Not once? Lucius: ..Maybe once or twice but.. It just- Vaggie: Why not tell me about those friends. You can start with whoever you want, let's take a break from this. Alright. Lucius: Alright. I-I guess I can talk about how I met some of the worst friends a prince could have. This story won't be great either. Vaggie: Eh most stories of the past usually aren't when death is involved. Lucius: Yeah, alright.. I guess I can tell you how I first met Jewel, fuck I was an idiot. Vaggie: Love makes fools of everyone. Lucius: Unfortunately.

#fan character #hotel hazbin #hazbinhotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #Fan Oc #Hazbin Oc

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invisiblegarters · 9 months

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Only Friends Character Rankings - Ep 8

Decided to start titling these with the episode but dear god now I have to go back and fix them and apparently I am not consistent with my tagging (shocker), so probably that won't happen. We'll just move forward.

Last week Sand pissed me off, Ray managed to get what he wanted while still kinda looking like a loser (and making Boston either a prophet or just someone who knows Ray way too fucking well), and Mew won the ep by being impressively unhinged in his revenge and making the supremely dumb (and messy) choice to date Ray. I enjoyed the visuals but also couldn't stop laughing because you know Book was bending his knees so he could do the forehead touching and neck nuzzling with Khaotung. It must have looked so awkward.

ANYwho, let's get to it, shall we?

Disclaimer because I'm gonna need it this time: these are my opinions only and do not necessarily reflect what the show is trying to do or the characters' actual motivations. While I try to take a step back as much as possible while doing these my biases and personal experiences are still going to come into play and today I'm more frustrated than usual.

You've been warned.

Characters (Fave to Least Fave atm)

Sand. Look, I was terrified about what he would be doing this episode last week. I worked myself into a whole lather about it. But he was awesome here. He set clear boundaries and stuck to them, he rebuffed Ray at every turn. He tried to move on with his Freddie Mercury soul twin. Or at least hook up which I would love for him, everyone else gets to at least kiss someone else why hasn't Sand, huh? WHY HAVEN'T YOU LET SAND KISS ANYONE BUT RAY, SHOW THIS IS WORKING MY NERVES PLEASE TAKE HIM OUT OF COLD STORAGE. *ahem*. Frankly he exceeded my expectations.

So I want to know what all the people dragging him for not doing enough fucking want. Do you want him to hit Ray over the head with his guitar (me too but we all know he hasn't been pushed that far yet)? Leave the country? Change schools? What?

He's trying. This whole episode was him trying to let Ray and whatever hopes he may have harbored about him go with as much dignity as he could - yes he was softer about it than I would have been, but Sand's just like that. He is taking responsibility for his own damn feelings the way he always does and he's trying to deal with them alone, away from Ray, without causing fuss. Ray's the one hounding the shit out of him right now. If it's about him running to help him with the cops, well, I sort of get it but not really - Sand would have done that for anyone he cares about, and he knows damn good and well if Ray's caught with coke after he just got into trouble for drinking and driving his dad might not even be able to get him out of it. He'd have done the same for Nick guys (not that he'd have to but my point stands). You can't just turn caring off because the person you care about sucks. And he could have stayed and babied him and he chose to leave and baby Nick instead, and to me that feels important.

Although it might be about the preview, which okay, fair. And if it is I can't throw stones because the preview for this ep had me incandescent with rage last week.

Beyond all that, though, I just want to know: has anyone ever taken care of this man? Because it feels like no. Every relationship in his life, form his mom to Ray to Nick, even to Yo in this ep, he winds up playing caretaker. The shoulder. The one people rely on. It bothers me that he seems to have no one to lean on in turn, and I doubt he's gonna get that at all in the run of this show.

Boston. I love Boston I will never stop. He didn't do a lot today but everything he did do was great. Pining over NIck but still shutting him down, genuinely listening to Atom, showing up to a party with all the friends who hate him right now and being like "yeah, my place too, suck it." Hands down my favorite conversation this ep was between him and Top - something about it felt so oddly playful. Well, you know, for Boston. It felt like whatever hang up he had with Top, it's gone now, which makes me think once again that it was less about him than Mew. Also he did this:

and it made me cackle.

He's gonna fuck Atom and piss Cheum off but Atom's a big boy so I'm not really that bothered by it. That said, it was funny to watch him hesitate for once. Like hm, this could go badly. And then Atom was like "so?" and that was that, lol. Oh, Boston.

Mew. Oh, Mew. I was so disappointed when I saw him doing lines with Ray. This is not the way I wanted you to spiral, babe. But I did call it. He wanted Ray to make him forget how he feels about Top, but Ray can't do that because Mew is about as into him as he is the wall. In fact he might be more into the wall, if possible. It was certainly a trip watching his face every time Ray got affectionate. And when Ray isn't working, what does he turn to next? Alcohol. Drugs. Anything to help him pretend he's moving on. "Habits (Stay High)" is Mew's song this episode.

But in the end it won't last, I firmly believe that. Mew will boomerang back to himself, maybe not as gullible as he calls it, maybe a little less uptight, but yeah. He's not going to keep wearing Ray's persona like his own little Halloween costume. He's got too good a foundation for that, has been too firmly rooted by the love of his parents and even his friends (yes, his friends, they might not be good for each other but all of them try to be good to him save perhaps Boston I said what I said).

Although we still have four eps so I doubt it'll happen soon.

Top. I just don't get the need to hate on this guy. It's getting super old. I think he's really trying - he clearly cares about Mew, and he's cared for a while, and he wants him to be happy even if it's not with him. Weird to me how when Ray said the same everyone bought into it, but when Top does it it's sus. Especially when Ray demonstrably couldn't even keep to that claim, lol.

But I digress. Maybe I'll have egg on my face in two episodes or whatever, but I feel for him. And I believe that he actually cares about Mew. You don't just stand there and take all the things that Top took from Mew this ep and then turn around and take care of someone when they're drunk and high and their new boyfriend is nowhere to be found to do the thing they promised they'd do better than anyone else. Maybe he'll do something beyond the pale in the next ep and that will be that, but right now he's putting his money where his mouth is in regards to Mew and I have to commend him for that. I am curious if he will continue doing so if Mew tells him to leave him be and means it - has he done that? Because as far as I can recall he has not, which is telling.

He was stand up this ep, but he does lose a few points for cuddling Mew while he was incapacitated. Because Mew would definitely not want that were he awake and sober (or well he would but he would still say no and that's the point).

Popular theory is that he called the cops. If he did, I basically say *shrug*

The Lesbians. Yes they are an entity leave me be. I am not one who thinks that Cheum was entirely wrong, although I do think that there's a time and place and maybe while someone is being pinned down by the cops isn't it. She is wrong that Ray is dragging Mew down with him. Ray isn't doing that, Mew is happily sliding all on his own. Well, not so happily but the choice is still his. Ray is enabling it, yes, but of course he is. One, it's Mew. Ray has no idea how to tell Mew no. Two, Ray does all these things himself. Of course he's gonna be okay with Mew doing them too, because not only does it reinforce his own shitty habits, it give him one less person telling him they're shitty. I agree with fandom that Cheum is not Ray's friend, not really. But Ray isn't hers either. Both of them care about Mew. The end.

April though was the real MVP of the two of them. Woman speaks sense, both about Mew and about the situation with Ray. I think probably because the only person she really cares about here is Cheum, so it's easier for her to step back and see the others from a more neutral place.

Nick. Still out here trying to earn the gold in the simp category of the messy Olympics. The brass balls he had to go up to Boston like he did, though. Like. Okay. I still think you're insane but I can respect that. HIs hurt face when Boston shut him down didn't get to me this ep, but his Halloween costume was cute.

Daddy Dan is gonna be a problem. I can't wait. Every time that man smiles I'm like danger, will robinson, and yet I'm so ready for Nick to walk right into that thinking that he's moving on and finding that he stepped into something he can't handle.

Ray. This happy motherfucker.

Where do I even start with this one. He has Mew just like he always wanted and he can't even give it fifteen minutes before he's bugging Sand. Like dude. Come on. Give the poor guy a break please. But of course Ray won't - all he's thinking is that he can have Mew for boyfriend and Sand to make him feel better about himself. It's...frustrating to watch.

But also he was so pathetic everywhere this ep that I don't think I've ever liked him more. He's such a loser, I'm sorry but not really. Like it cracks me up that Sand gets shit on for wanting him and Nick gets shit on for wanting Boston but I'm supposed to feel bad for this dude? Nah. At least Sand and Nick haven't stopped quite so low as to be the willing rebound for a dude that clearly doesn't want them yet (I mean, Nick so would. Sand...not so much. More on this later).

Relationships (Fave to Least Fave atm)

TopMew. I actually think these two might be able to make it work. They're the only couple I think this about now.

They love each other guys. Sorry but it's true. Maybe Mew won't be able to get over the Boston of it all, and if he can't he can't. But he wouldn't be spiraling this hard if he didn't still love Top - he certainly wouldn't have looked at him the way he did in the hostel kitchen with his defenses down, high and miserable and sick and hurting so badly and still in love despite his best efforts. And he wouldn't need to hurt him so damn badly, either. And Top loves him back.

Now all the masks are off. Whether or not they work together that way remains to be seen.

YoPlug. Look you leave Yo alone Jojo I am not kidding. I know you were being all clever and showing Sand his closed off future (which again, wouldn't be happening if people didn't hurt him, Ray), but I'm not having her crying on my screen. You stop that.

That said, as short as it was the breakdown of the relationship felt too real. Sometimes loneliness becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, but what are you supposed to do when every time you put your heart out it comes back a little less whole?

Nick and Sand. Can they please make out. So far Sand is the only one of these six dudes who hasn't so much as kissed anyone other than his OG pair (I'm counting the preview to slide Nick in here, sue me), and I for one am sick of it. You better pay me back for this insult with Sand getting his mouth (and hands) all over everyone soon. Starting with this guy.

Even if they don't kiss on the mouth (RUDE), I do love how they support each other. Sand led Nick out of that hostel like "yes you are crazy friend but we're all a little crazy in love, lean on me and I'll get you home." And I love that for them.

BostonNick. Boston catching feelings? Who would have thought (me, forever ago, lol. I said Nick might sneak in under the radar because Boston was so sure he couldn't possibly, and it looks like I might have been right). The fact that he knows that Nick was the one who told Mew about the sex tape because Nick was the only one he told. Good times. The way he shuts Nick down in spite of the fact that he clearly misses him. Also good times. I genuinely can't wait to see what they do next.

RayMew & RaySand. Putting them together because they're like pb&j for this show. Can't have one without the other rearing it's ugly head. Yes, I said that right.

Ray and Mew were exactly the dumpster fire most of us expected (I'd say all of us but I know there were some people out there who were hoping they wouldn't be - I see you and I appreciate you). Mew is wild out here not even being able to hide how little he enjoys Ray's boyfriendly attentions, and even I had to wince when Ray was waiting for him to say "I love you" back and he just kind a looked at him like "That's...nice." Dude couldn't even kiss him unless he was performing for Top (and okay look, in context the kiss was not great. Out of context? Book and Khao BL when please?).

People seem to think he and Mew are going to be over at some point next ep, but I'm not entirely sure (although after watching the preview again I do think it's more likely than I thought at first, seeing as Mew is flirting with some dude and I don't think he'd do that if he and Ray were still pretending they might actually be able to manage a relationship when only one of them wants one - I could be wrong but I don't think so, even though he does not care for Ray like that I think Mew would be uber sensitive about it considering). That said, if it's Mew who ends it it's gonna feel like we're just doing yet another lap of the same damn track and I wish they'd change the record already. What is it Sand said? Moving on in a circle? Yeah.

Khaotung did say that Ray is selfish and won't stop until he gets what he wants, and I guess we're seeing it this ep. I was so annoyed with him getting up in Sand's space all the time, like dude. You have a whole ass boyfriend (as Sand kept helpfully reminding him). STOP. But he won't stop. Because why should he, right. If he pokes enough Sand'll just give in and then he can have his cake and eat it.

Everything Ray did and said to Sand at that party was awful (although I did get a kick out of him literally running up to pull Sand and the other Freddie apart like the pitter patter of his shoes on the floor combined with just watching him bolt that few feet to prevent lips from touching KILLED me I had to pause the video to cackle with sheer delight this absolute fuckass of a man (surprisingly affectionate)).

He really needs to quit kissing people that don't want him to, please. Like, yesterday. Damn, Ray. Also say what you like, defend it how you want, but trust me Mew would not be happy with any of what he was pulling at the party. Mew IS DATING HIM because Top did something very like, and Ray's big draw was that he would never. And here he is proving Mew spectacularly wrong.

He doesn't want a threesome and he doesn't want polyamory. He wants to play at being Hugh Heffner.

And while I wouldn't buy it of Mew, I totally believe Ray would tell Sand that he and Mew were done to get him back where he wants him. Sand said I won't be your second choice and Ray heard but he didn't listen, he never listens, and I feel like if he's not careful he's gonna push that man into doing something incredibly destructive in the next four episodes. I actually want to be wrong here - I'd like it more if the huge trailer fight wasn't about Mew at all - but the show seems to really want to make glue out of the RayMewSand love triangle horse so I guess we'll have to wait and see.

If I had my druthers since I guess we're doing round three of this, it wouldn't be Ray lying or going back to old reliable when Mew finally admits that he's just not that into him, but a genuine attempt to try to be together with admitted feelings on both sides. And then it would be Sand who does something to fuck it up. If I have to go through this yet again I want Ray to be all in and shattered for once. But let's be real here, this show never gives me what I want (Am I still bitter Top and Sand weren't exes? You bet your ass. I still think Top and Sand should hatefuck or there should be a flashback to a threesome with them and the ex okay it's just what should happen show why do you hate fun) so I'm not holding my breath.

In Conclusion

Things went both better and worse than I expected. Everyone here is a mess and I still have hope for that baseball bat.

Please for the love of all that is good in the world let Sand fuck.

#only friends #only friends the series #rankings

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aemiron-main · 10 months

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what if henry just ends up having killed people instead of it being edward creel or whoever that is because that is a whole new character youve invented babe.......................

also are you gonna keep stanning henrys ass if he truly does turn out to be a murderer who killed his own family because he decided to play god and punish them (including his sister. who is a child) for past mistakes

im pretty sure you said you think virginias abusive or something but im curious. what if youre wrong

“a whole new character you invented” babe he’s in the show. you can read his name and backstory on the screen in front off your eyes right now. open netflix. pause during the indianapolis gazette scene. and read alllllll the details of edward that are completely different from henry. i didn’t just make them up. they are In The Show. It’s not even like, speculation. It’s literally written there word for word in front of our very eyes. It’s Right There.

As usual though, people like you can never be bothered to read even one of the 1526384848484 posts I’ve made regarding Edward and/or the multiple 001s we see during NINA (all of which can be easily accessed from my pinned post). It’s clear that you’re not actually interested in having a nuanced discussion about the topic because if you were interested in nuanced discussion about it, you would have read the posts, and it’d be pretty clear to you that Edward isn’t just someone that I made up. Like it or not, his name and backstory and family and details of how long he lived in Hawkins is written on screen in S4. He’s there.

And two things about this question a.) so what if i was going to continue stanning? what are you going to do, explode me with your mind??? and b.) this is a redundant question because he didn’t kill his own family to try to play god and punish them, the evidence (and if you’d actually read any of my creel murders posts before whining in my inbox you would know this) overwhelmingly supports the idea that Henry didn’t kill his family/the only member he MIGHT have killed is his mother, and based on what we learn about him and his mother, her death was very much deserved because his choice was “kill your mom who is trying to send you to live with a pedophile scientist for the rest of your life” or “live with a pedophile scientist for the rest of your life”.

How did he supposedly trance Victor and kill alice at the same time? Why don’t we see Alice’s death? If he was so dead-set on punishing them, why doesn’t he ever actually give any indication of what he was supposedly punishing Alice for?

And just an interesting sidenote re: the Creel murders, I was listening to an interview with Kevin L Johnson last night (who plays Young Victor), and he said that when filming the multiple versions of the murders, he overhead Sean Levy talking about how there was “one version where Henry wasnt the one killing Virginia and one where it seems like he might be the one doing it,” so neither of the scenes in the show were intended to definitively portray Henry as the murderer. And this wasn’t just something Kevin was told as a coverup or something, it was something that he overheard that he wasn’t supposed to overhear, and what they did tell him on the matter/why they were recording two different versions of the scene was “incase we try to go a different direction,” but then as we all found out, they DID use both scenes.

And I know I’ve talked before about how the main focus should be what’s in the show rather than interviews etc, but again, this interview/the talk of Henry not definitively being the murderer completely lines up with what I’ve already analyzed from the show & how it doesn’t make sense for Henry to be the one doing things & how Hawkins Lab was very likely watching the Creels/messing with them from day 1 at the house. Both of the scenes of Virginia’s death/the murders leave a LOT of room for doubt about Henry being the perpetrator- and it’s intentional!!!! Because he’s not!!!!

And who gives a fuck if I’m wrong???? Are the Stranger Things Police going to arrest me????? Should i throw myself off of a cliff dramatically??? What sort of answer are you fishing for here, anon?? I don’t know about you, but I’m more than capable of handling being wrong- I just don’t think that I’m wrong as of right now.

Like if I’m wrong so what!!! The world goes on!!!! I won’t explode into a billion little teeny tiny pieces!! I had fun analyzing!! Who cares!!! Are you betting on me or something, anon?? Is that why you’re so worried about me being wrong?? Or- do you have 💕💕feelings 💕💕 for me, anon?? Are you worried that if i explode into a million little pieces if I’m wrong that we won’t be able to sail off into the sunset together?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 rest assured, anon, our honeymoon in france is safe, as even if I’m wrong, nothing bad is going to happen and I’ll still be there on the beach waiting for you…

#stranger things #st anons #edward creel #henry creel #creel murders

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jainasolo1233 · 1 year

Note

My number one defense for Anakin Skywalker: he was a slave! He never got thearpy for it, and was taught by unfeeling monks how to kill after leaving his mother to die. Plus the unfeeling monks willing left him be groomed by someone they had doubts about. And they were surprised he turned to the dark side? The jedi's practically gift wrapped him for Palpatine.

My number one defense for Padme and why I support her marriage to Anakin Skywalker: Padme has done the proper thing all her life. The one time she meets a hot guy who listens to her, is willing to follow her lead, who is willing to kill for her and her children, who thinks the world of her. Honestly yeah I buy it. Let her be reckless in this one thing. Honestly Padme I'm her own right is a little crazy and I'm all for it. It's everyone else that screws it up.

The jedi knew something dark was inside Anakin when they met him, but believed in the prophecy of him destroying the sith since they had returned after thousands of years.

They jedi are usually recruited when they are infants and have no memory of their life before. Anakin was 9 and had hopes and dreams and fears and everything. I don't think the jedi had ever taken anyone so old before and didn't know what he was feeling regarding that.

Maybe they saw Anakin's dark side as recklessness and rebellion of a young person and didn't think much of it.

Have you ever seen the Clone Wars animated series?

There was an episode when Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka tried to rescue a bunch of slaves. Anakin, of course, is bothered the entire time because he used to be a salve himself. I don't really remember the episode that well, but I wanna say that's the only time his slave past is addressed.

Anakin and Padme were truly fine. Fingers can be pointed at anyone, but I blame Palpatine. Of course, the blame goes to him. He's the villain of the entire series.

I think Anakin should have confided in Obi-Wan. I truly believe he would have been able to help him, but Anakin had lost so many people from his mom and fellow jedi, especially Ahsoka. I don't think he could bear losing the love of his life.

I'm rambling now...lol

Of course, jedi aren't even allowed to form attachments, but that rule was made (by the writers) until after the EU stuff was written because Luke, Leia, and her kids were all married and they made work and none of them fell to the darkside (I mean one did, but that was for a totally different reason).

Anyway!

Anakin and Padme, yes perfect couple. Tragic ending as most Star Wars couples.

#star wars #anidala #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #asks #ask #darkcrowprincess

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spandexinspace · 7 months

Text

But you shouldn't listen to her.

Sequel time. Sort of. Follow up to "Mother Says", will be edited a final time and uploaded to AO3 at a later date.

___________________________________________

At first Querl figures Lyle will come around soon enough and concede that the logic to his argument is sound despite its unfortunate trigger. That he’ll agree that Querl was right all along. It won’t be the clean, near-painless end Querl had imagined, not with his mind already burning with every treacherous thought it can conjure up, endlessly repeating every word from their last conversation, but it’ll be an end.

But what starts as a day stretches into two, then three. Querl doesn’t leave the lab, buries himself in work that’s not nearly advanced enough to keep him from thinking about other matters, the spectre of things to come always present in his mind. Though he doesn’t normally dream he refrains from sleeping, unsure and, as much as he hates to admit it, a little afraid of what could come of it.

On the fourth day he finally gives in to the itching curiosity and ventures out to the monitor board to check the team roster. It’s late enough in the evening that most of his teammates are preoccupied with other matters, leaving only Dirk to keep watch over the wide array of monitors in the room. He’s sitting with his back turned towards the door as Querl enters, as oblivious as ever. The main monitor shows that there are two away teams, a total of ten people including Lyle, with one seemingly being engaged in something planetside and the other being labelled as off-world. Usually that means they are operating outside of a named territory. Potentially very far away.

"How long has the off-world team been away?" Querl asks Dirk, who seems much more interested in figuring out at what angle his chair will tip over than actually monitoring anything.

"Two days, maybe? Shouldn't you know?" he says, craning his neck to look back at Querl.

"It’s not my job to keep track of other Legionnaires.”

“Like you’re not just keeping track of your sprock-buddy.” It would take so little effort to kick that chair out from under him and watch that smug face get wiped off his face. Or at least to use a force field to do it. But it would take even less effort for Dirk to retaliate — Querl wouldn’t put it past him to do that — and he would rather avoid the inconvenience that could introduce at a time like this.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Sun Boy?” Querl asks instead, settling for glaring at him, though Dirk seems infuriatingly unaffected by his odium.

“Oh sorry, mom, I thought we lived in a free country.”

“This isn’t a country. And don’t call me that!” Querl turns on his heel to leave, and if Dirk shouts something that sounds suspiciously like ‘sincerest apologies, mother’ after him he pretends he didn’t hear it. What a sprocking prick. As if any of this is any of his business in the first place.

Another three days crawl by in an excruciatingly slow fashion, every minute seeming to stretch out into hours of painful wait, filled to the brim with uneasy anticipation.

Gates drops by the lab at some point, ranting about one injustice or another. It’s not an effective distraction, few things really are when Querl’s mind is set on something, but it’s easy enough to let him ramble on, to only interject a question here and there. Gates doesn’t ask difficult, invasive questions and doesn’t concern himself with their biped drama. It’s a nice reprieve.

Other than Gates’ visit there are unusually few distractions. Some of his other teammates come by to ask their usual inane questions, but none linger. Luornu is thankfully also with the away team, removing her sometimes far too prying eyes and ideas of supposed siblinghood from his life. Her concern comes in waves, he suspects her different selves don’t quite agree on how much of a nass they should give about him, but when she’s determined to bother him she rarely just lets things go. Querl is thankful for the relief. He’ll have to confront the rest of them one day, but it seems easier to do that at another time.

Almost 170 hours pass before Lyle returns to the lab. Querl, finally buried deep enough in his work to almost block out every other thought and idea and how tired he should be, doesn’t notice him until he’s standing next to him, a dark spectre at the edge of his vision.

“Lyle,” he says, snapping up from the monitor in front of him, fumbling to pause the near-endless scroll of input of data on it.

“Yeah, hi, we need to talk. Preferably somewhere slightly more comfortable than right here.” Lyle smiles tightly. There’s a smear of something grey across his cheek and dark rings under his eyes, his entire presens radiating an unsettling energy. Querl squirms in his seat. An urge to reach out, to take his hands in his own and tell him that everything will be OK, almost overtakes the rational part of Querl’s mind, clashing against it like rough waves against a surge gate. It’s selfish, it won’t help him in the long run, he tells himself.

“Where would that be?” he asks instead, standing up.

“Living area of your quarters?” Querl nods deftly and lets Lyle lead the way from the lab to his adjacent quarters.

Well inside Lyle gingerly sits down on the small, dark-grey couch in the centre of the room, though not before having to move a stack of folded blueprints out of the way. The couch is not comfortable and as far as Querl knows hasn’t served as much more than extra storage space since that was confirmed, but he suspects that’s not the main reason why Lyle looks so uneasy, sitting there with his legs and arms crossed and a resolute expression on his face. Clearing and taking the seat on the other side of the couch Querl feels the unease envelop him too as he lingers on the far edge of the seat, as if ready to spring up at any moment. He looks towards Lyle, fidgeting with his flight ring as he waits for him to say something.

“I suppose hoping for you to start was too much to ask for.” Lyle sighs. “Are we still doing this?”

“This?” Querl asks, his mind running through at least a dozen ideas of what ‘this’ could entail. The conversation, the previous conversation, their acquaintanceship as a whole…

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lyle says, uncrossing his arms to gesture towards him. “Breaking up, taking your sprocking mother’s advice. This entire idiotic thing.”

“Why is me caring about you all of a sudden idiotic?”

“Because you’re framing it like you care about me, but you’re refusing to listen to what I’m actually saying! I’m not ready to give up on this, us, but you seem so damn intent on it all of a sudden.” Lyle doesn’t get it, he’s focusing on the wrong things again, acting like this whole thing is on Querl. As if it can not be true just because his mother brought it up.

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what has the most beneficial outcome in the long run. And we have no evidence that this is it.” Surely Lyle, of all people, should be able to understand that.

“What kind of evidence could there be? Do you want to peer review our relationship? Perhaps create a control group and apply for a grant?”

“Be serious. Evidence that this kind of relationship can even have a favourable outcome in the first place. We’re not a common coupling, perhaps there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh? Could that reason be that there are like twelve Coluans living off-world and most of them are centuries older than you?” Lyle asks. Despite the edge of mockery in his voice he’s not wrong. Most Coluans aren’t cleared to go off-world until they’re a lot older than him, and most of them are taught to keep to themselves. He is, as he so often is, an anomaly in that regard. But it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t disprove the untested nature of their relationship.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Lyle falls quiet and Querl risks meeting his stare, dark and rimmed and looking almost as tired as he feels, swirling with something desperate. When Lyle speaks again it’s in a lower voice, devoid of the earlier edge.

“Querl, I love you. I’ve loved you for years and I knew what I was getting into when I started dating you,” he says. “This is absurd. I don’t need you to act like you’re saving me something.”

“What do you need?”

"I need you to trust me enough to talk to me about these things, and to trust my opinion over your mother’s. There's no point in us being together if you can't do that." Querl fumbles for words, his mind drowning in engulfing dark brown eyes and venomous thoughts he shouldn’t listen to, telling him he should just go along with it. He looks away.

“Discussing certain subjects could be hurt- or even harmful,” he says, biting back anything but the bare logic. His feelings don’t matter, won’t change the pain he’s capable of causing, he has to ignore them.

“And you think this isn’t hurtful?” Lyle’s voice rises again. “You think I’ve been having a great week of not feeling like shit because my relationship started falling apart out of nowhere?”

"It was not my intention to hurt you."

"Which is a great thought, but your intentions don’t mean nass if this is what you’re doing with them. You can't decide for yourself what will hurt me or what's good for me.” Lyle stops, breaths an uneven, shaky breath. “At least not, you know, with these things. That has to be a conversation."

“Being forced to make a decision could be more hurtful.” Querl grits his teeth, tries to keep himself focused, to ignore the ever increasing buzz of regret at the back of his mind threatening to spill forth the second he missteps. He needs to be better.

“Not being given a choice is always going to be more hurtful in the long run. You should know that.”

“I’ve never be-”

“In life, at large, not just relationships. Look at me!” Against his better judgement his eyes snap back to Lyle’s own. He’s drowning again. “There, great. Everything you’ve told me about your past makes it sound like you’ve been jerked around at every opportunity, did you like that? Was that fun for you?”

“It’s not the same,” he replies lamely, feeling his focus and resolve falter even as he’s saying it.

“Isn’t it? No one has ever tried to do something you hated because they thought it was helpful? Grief, Querl, this can’t be the first sprocking time you’ve ever had to think about this.”

“Maybe not,” he offers. A large part of his time on Colu feels like a blur these days, an indistinguishable mass of time that was never quite his. He’d hated it, he’d felt nothing, he’d lost himself in his work until he’d stopped feeling like he had to be an actual person too, shutting everything out except when he couldn’t. “But I… This is entirely different from what my life was before the Legion, even before the anomaly and my mother’s return,” he continues, his mouth dry. Before he’d felt so many things and known there was a future outside of the endless pursuit of trying to make up for the crimes of his ancestors. ”And this isn’t about me.”

“It is, though. You can’t tell me you’d be fine with me trying to dictate your life. That’s not what this is supposed to be about,” Lyle says, leaning forward, face hard-set.

“How am I supposed to know what this is about. It’s just... It’s just complicated.” Querl’s eyes sting and his pulse pounds in his ears.

“So complicated you don’t want to do it?” He should say yes, lie and finally cut them both loose.

“... No.”

“Great, then we’re still on the same page about that, at least. Incredible work, wanna talk about the actual issue now or should we keep arguing around it all night?”

“No, I suppose not.” Querl breaths in, trying to gather himself, his mind filled with the jagged pieces of his shattered resolve. “Do you find it acceptable to date someone who will not age at the same rate as you do, primarily physically but potentially also mentally?” he asks, mechanically, for a nauseating split second reminding himself of his mother and her script.

"Yeah, again, I'm not sure we'll be dating forever. Which isn't an indictment, relationships aren't meaningless or bad or a waste of time just because they don't last forever, but it does mean that it might not even be an issue in the first place,” Lyle says, nonchalant if not for the guarded set of his face. A mask good enough that most wouldn't see through it.

"And if it is?" Querl prompts.

"I don't know, it’s hard to say without knowing exactly how it’ll play out. I guess I might want kids someday and that could be hard for, well, several reasons. But I stopped planning that far ahead after what happened to Jac. I’d rather just let this take its course and see where it ends, but I need to know I can trust you to do that. What about you, are you fine with doing this?

"I-...” He hesitates. “I never thought I’d actually have a choice in the matter."

"But if you did?"

Querl shakes his head slowly, eyes faltering. Nights of sleeplessness and the receding heat of the argument start to overtake him, numbing both his body and mind. His head swims, filled with thoughts of years of not knowing and often not even caring what happened to him as a person. He has no idea what he wants. He wants Lyle, to reach out to him and feel his warm skin against his own and forget every stupid idea he’s ever had and the last week of trying to convince himself that he needs to do better. To give in to his own selfish, hungry desires.

Lyle pulls off his gloves and reaches for his hands, stopping just short of touching them.

"Can I?" he asks. Their eyes meet. Querl nods, then grasps Lyle’s hands himself. The touch of his hands, marked and scared by years of work beyond his age, is warm and familiar. Lyle rubs his thumbs over his knuckles.

"So, you don’t know and I don’t know. Kinda seems to me like we just have to find out for ourselves," he says with a softness Querl doesn’t deserve.

"I suppose so." He takes a breath, feels it burn in his throat. "I am sorry that I didn't talk to you first. And for making you feel bad. It was not my intention, but it wasn’t right."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for kinda blowing up at you."

"It may, perhaps, have been justified." Querl blinks, forcing back the stinging sensation in his eyes.

"Maybe so, but still. Friends?"

"Perhaps slightly more?" Querl asks, daring a half-hearted grin.

Lyle snorts.

"Fair, good, saves me from having to break into your room later," he says, amusement evident in his voice. The tension in Querl’s chest starts to dissolve, seeping out of him with every word.

"And why would you need to do that?"

"Well, it turns out most of my clean shirts are here now."

"And theft is easier than getting your laundry done?"

"Obviously."

Querl closes the gap between them, moving across the uncomfortable couch until he can lean into the curve of Lyle’s body and let the familiar warmth fully overtake him.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” Lyle lets go of one of his hands to wrap an arm around his waist, tugging him closer yet. “It hasn’t been great.”

“I’m sorry.” It seems so easy to say it now, so trivial to forget the heat of the previous moment now that it’s over.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll learn from it.”

“Yeah.” Querl leans his head on Lyle's shoulder, letting his hair cascade over his shoulder. He presses a quick, chaste kiss to his neck and wraps his own free arm around his waist, burying himself in his presence. “Am I selfish, for wanting this?” he asks, voice low.

“Am I selfish for wanting this?” Lyle asks in return, squeezing his hand.

“No.”

“Then there you go. It’s fine to want things.” Lyle lets go off his waist, lazily dragging his warm hand across Querl’s back until it comes to rest at the nape of his neck, his fingers softly intertwining themselves in the slightly too long hair there. A shudder travels down his spine. He hooks the hand at Lyle’s waist into his belt, the metal cold against his hand. Feeling Lyle against him, smelling the faint mix of his cologne, sweat and space travel, his strong arm resting against Querl’s back and the slight softness of his stomach against his knuckles, feels like home. Like he belongs there, despite what his mother or rationality might say.

He can’t even begin to imagine how much he would have missed this.

Lyle turns his head, nuzzling into Querl’s hair. "Still doesn’t make any sense how you can have such nice hair.”

"Inferior human hair follicles, hm?" he hums, not entirely sure if Lyle will hear him at all. His body suddenly feels heavy, like the last days' worry has finally started to settle over him. He blinks, each time slower than the last, having to fight just a little harder each time to open his eyes again.

"Nah, I think some cosmic force decided you have to be just as attractive as you're difficult to deal with."

"I'm not difficult," Querl says, stifling a yawn.

"Uhu, and you're also not falling asleep on me right now?"

"Sprock you," he says, pressing another kiss to Lyle’s neck.

"Love you too, though I need to shower off all the space dust if you've decided it's bed time."

Querl sighs and gives Lyle's neck one last kiss before he starts to unfold himself, not at all inclined to let go of any part of his partner or welcome the cold that settles over his skin when they’re not touching. He doesn’t want to let go of him again. Not now, perhaps not ever.

"You can join, if you want," Lyle offers, sounding just as tired as he feels. “I’ll even let you use some real shampoo.”

"I've already showered today and, as you may recall, last time I took you up on that offer we had anything but a quick shower." Querl clears his throat. He supposes that’s technically a lie. The actual shower was quick enough.

"Hm, yeah. Oh well, give me a few." Lyle stands up and stretches out his arms above his head, freezing halfway through the motion to glance back down at Querl. "You are OK with me sleeping here again, right?"

"Unequivocally.”

#losh #dc comics #my writing

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wistfulweaverwoman · 1 year

Text

I Feel Fine

I’m not sure why I volunteered to ride with Gale on the drive to the lake house. It’s not like we’re actually friends. We talk, know stuff about each other. Used to be neighbors, back in elementary and middle school. His mom watched me and my little sister sometimes. I’m pretty sure he still thinks of me as a kid, even though he’s fucking my best-friend. Well, really, she’s my only friend.

They met at the bowling alley where the three of us, as well as what seems like most of the other teenagers in town, work. Boys have always liked Madge. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect tits. A regular beauty queen. Seriously. She hates it, but her mom was Miss Arkansas and insists that Madge follow in her footsteps, even if it’s just for the shit she can put on a college application. She always calls it a scholarship program, like she can live with herself if it’s for college. No one knows about the pageants; I’m sworn to secrecy. I don’t really know why, it’s not like the other cheerleaders are going to tease her like I do.

I’m not a cheerleader. I’m not anything.

I don’t realize I’ve been sleeping till the protesting brakes wail softly. I jerk upright, wiping the sticky side of my face with my forearm. The truck follows Madge’s white Jetta along the gravel road. Through the pale dust swirls I see the girls jammed in the back seat, their hair piled in messy knots on their heads, moving their arms in sync. They’re probably listening to some terrible pop song they’ve used in one of their routines. I bet they’re screaming the lyrics off key.

I contain a shudder; I kind of hate dramatic people.

The anticipation starts to build as we begin to ascend the last hill. I’ve been coming here with Madge's family since we became friends back in second grade. Usually it’s just the family, her mom, and dad when he has time, and her younger brother, Brian. We’ve had a few slumber parties up here, but never any real “party” parties. There are three kegs in the bed of the truck, bottom shelf liquor that’s probably closer to rubbing alcohol than anything that’s fit for human consumption, spiked lemonade, cider, plus every flavor of wine cooler ever made.

I’m not really sure who else is bothering to drive up for the weekend, but the whole senior class was invited. Which is kind of crazy, even if our school is pretty small. But it’s our graduation, our last big hurrah. Everyone was warned that the beds are first come, first serve and to bring a sleeping bag, just in case. The house is pretty big. Besides the master, already claimed by Madge and Gale, there's the attic bedroom, where Madge and I usually sleep, Brian's room, three guest rooms, and the bunk room. Plus, there’s a pullout couch in the boathouse.

I roll down the window, lean my head out, close my eyes, and just inhale. It’s not really too different from home, but I’ve always been happy here. The spicy pine hanging in the air smells how carefree used to feel. Without raising my lids I roll my eyes. Nostalgia is making me sappy, but I don’t bother forcing away my smile.

Everyone climbs out groaning, and stretches. A series of car doors slam as the cluster of girls excitedly shoulder their burgeoning duffle bags. Gale grabs his, and several bags from the grocery store. I grab another two, along with my backpack. I didn’t really need to pack anything. I’ve got lots of stuff up here, but Madge made me buy a dress for the party. And she treated me to some stuff from Victoria Secret’s. Which was weird.

I tried to just get some sweatpants with ‘pink’ on the butt. But she insisted that every “woman” needs at least one set of sexy underpants. I hate them. Not only are they not comfortable, but they seem to emphasize everything I hate about my body. My thighs look fatter, and my belly seems to ripple beneath the synthetic band. They even look bigger than my cotton briefs. And I feel like an imposter. Panties like these belong on someone beautiful, or at least someone who looks beautiful naked.

I don’t cringe when I look in the mirror or anything, but, as Aunt Jo once said when she was drunk and trying to give me some sort of confidence boost, I’m basically the opposite of a “butter face”. It’s not the nicest thing to say to a distraught sixteen year old girl. I guess I found some comfort, since I laughed, though embarrassed and horrified, at her graphic description of some girl she supposedly knew in the Army that always had to suffer the humiliation of wearing a bag over her head or take it from the rear, or maybe in the rear? I never wanted to ask.

Really, the whole thing sounded humiliating. Ever since then I’ve been suspicious of guys and their motives. I generally assume that the only reason a guy would be interested in me is to use me to get to know Madge (this has happened), or because they want to masturbate in me (this has not happened). The result is that I’m kind of mean to most guys my age. Not Gale, because, though he’s a bit of a douche, he’s decent enough. He listens to Rush, buys us booze, and doesn’t act like I’m a third wheel. I think he gets that really we’re the ones that let him tag along with us. But he actually knows Madge. As popular as Madge is, no one really knows her, other than us. When we were younger I was always side eyeing other girls. I probably came off as jealous, but really I’m just protective.

Okay, so maybe I’ve always been a little suspicious. Madge tries to get me to hang out with some of her other friends, but she acts differently around them. I don’t think she even notices. Gale does. The few times we’ve all got together he’s gotten real quiet. His face seems relaxed, but I can tell he’s pissed, because I wear the same expression. He wouldn’t have come up for the party, except for the obvious promise of copious amounts of sex.

The gravel crunches under my flip flops as I follow the others across the driveway. The girls hustle through the front door to claim a preferred bunk. A squeal echoes down the hall with Gale’s rough chuckle, and then pounding footfalls disappear upstairs. A door slams from somewhere far away. I place the bags beside the others on the counter in the kitchen and put the perishables away.

Shit.

I forgot to bring my one piece swimsuit. Upstairs I only have a bikini from sophomore year, when I first started gaining weight, but wasn't actually the size I am now. I don’t care that it’s too small when it’s just me and Madge. I try not to get too athletic in it. If I so much as sneeze my boobs try to escape the top like a pair of unruly puppies. Leaping off the dock is out of the question when Brian is lurking around. I’m pretty sure he’s already had an eyeful. Ugh.

If I go change now I can at least get in a swim before anyone else arrives.

Throwing caution to the wind, I cannon ball off the dock, breasts be damned. I may joke that if I do jumping jacks that I’ll knock myself out, but they aren’t really that big. Still, it’s hard to keep them in my top while they're trying to float up to meet my chin.

The water is freezing, but that’s how I like it. It’s a murky green brown, and I can barely see two feet in front of me when I swim down, reaching out with my fingers, exploring, only to shoot back up when I touch the slimy tangled bottom. I hate touching the bottom, but always seek it out, like I have to make sure it hasn't changed.

I float for a while, my hair undulating gently. The trees sway overhead. I forget why we’re here, who’s here. I forget a lot of things. I get lost in my memories, remembering joy, and the person I used to be, before my world was wrecked.

A car door slams. Then another.

Startled, I sink below the surface. I try to blow the water back out of my nose, but some of it is already burning at the back of my throat. Ungracefully I haul myself up onto the edge of the dock and realize I’ve left the towel on my bed.

I breathe in slowly smelling sun baked wood, my cheek, naked belly, and palms are pressed against the gray weathered boards, almost hot enough to burn my skin. I consider my options, either rush through the house and risk showing my goods to god knows who, or… or go see if there’s a towel in the boathouse.

The gaggle of girls from Madge's car are straggling down from the house having changed into swimsuits. Not wanting to wait around till even more people show up I hop to my feet and speed walk toward the boat house, the skin where my thighs touch burning with the friction.

After retrieving the hide-a-key from under a fake rock I let myself in. It’s stuffy and warm, but not unpleasant. The boats are actually stored one level down. This upper area is really more of an entertaining space, with a sleeping nook in the rear.

Probably no one’s been here since last summer. In the closet, on the top shelf, are a stack of towels and another of bed linens. If my mom had put them there they'd probably be threadbare and musty. Madge’s mom buys new towels every year and sticks dryer sheets in all the closets to keep them smelling nice.

I’m contemplating how I’ll reach the top shelf when I hear a laugh. I freeze on tip-toe with my arm in the air.

“That’s right motherfucker!” says a boy from somewhere very near the door. “It’s mine, and I’ll fight anyone that tries to take it.” Someone yells something back, and the boy laughs, and I hear a thump and the door slams shut, probably using his foot.

Fuck.

Without looking I know who’s here. Madge once suggested that I like him. “Like him” like him. He’s really nice, but I said I didn’t, because I don’t like anyone. But I’m not blind. He’s probably the hottest guy in school.

He grunts, sounds like he’s shifting whatever he's carrying, and I turn as he stumbles into the room trying to tug his shirt off with one arm, the other clutching a sports bag.

For half a second I consider hiding, he hasn’t seen me yet, but instead just turn back around and try desperately to grab a fucking unreachable towel. The dripping tips of my hair sway with my effort, tickling my lower back. His stuff thuds to the floor.

“Oh!” he gasps. “I’m sorry! Are you staying in here?”

I glance over my shoulder, wishing I was someone or somewhere else. He looks a little like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide and staring.

“I’m just here for one of those,” I say, waving my hand in the general direction of the linens.

He presses up beside me. His eyes dart toward my tits and linger a little too long. The heat coming off his bare skin is like a campfire and my skin actually prickles in response. He plucks a towel off the shelf, barely needing to reach up.

I’m taken aback when he unfolds the thing and wraps it gently around my shoulders. Maybe it suddenly occurs to him how intimate the gesture is, or he catches the look on my face, but he takes a big step back and smacks his shoulder on the closet door.

I tuck the towel firmly into place, glaring down, really feeling out of my depth.

Should I say something? Why the fuck haven't I left yet? Run, Bitch! Flee!

“So. Thanks for the towel!” I say, my voice pitching up. I sidestep him, shuffling back toward the exit. “See you later, Peeta!”

I don’t look back, and manage to make it up to my room without being seen. Madge is waiting for me on the bed when I’ve finished showering. She’s already dressed, makeup and hair done like she’s dressing up like Taylor Swift for Halloween. She’s laid out my dress and the hateful butt gobbling “sexy” underpants, with matching bra, which smashes my boobs together into what basically looks like an ass crack. She looks gleeful to the point of maniacal. I glower, aiming my best “I hate you” at her, causing her to cackle.

“You promised,” she says. I did promise, after she and Aunt Jo pressured me into agreeing. Madge retrieves one of many make up cases from under the bed, scraping the floor. The argument was that I didn't always need to be a bitch, that make-up is just another kind of armor. Whatever. It’s all bullshit. None of it would matter in the zombie apocalypse.

Madge sets my hair up in these giant curlers and then spends way too much time on applying my makeup so that it doesn’t look like I’m wearing any.

“So how many times since we got here?” I ask. I hate talking about it, but also have a morbid curiosity. Plus, who else am I going to ask? Not mom, or grams, even if they were still alive. Aunt Jo welcomes these types of inquiries, but I’ve found her explanations way too detailed.

“Four,” says Madge. “Now that I’m on the pill he doesn’t use condoms. It feels great for like, two minutes, then he’s done. Which is fine if we’re, you know, in the hot tub. But we’ve got a bed here and no parents.”

“Ew, the hot tub? Seriously?”

“Just once. Not as awesome as it sounds.”

“Sounds gross.”

“You think sex in general sounds gross.”

“It’s all the sharing of body fluids. Plus, I can’t really wrap my mind around how “good” it’s supposed to feel after you described the first time.”

“I told you, Mark just... went at it. I wasn’t exactly warmed up.”

“It hurt because you were cold?” I say in a mystified voice.

Madge leans back and squints at me.

“Pffft,” she says, realizing I’m teasing. “Asshole,” and smacks the back of my head with a pillow.

“Mark convinced you to have sex because it was junior prom. Not because he liked you. You cried the whole time. Why the fuck would I want that?”

Madge shrugs, and I can tell she’s struggling not to look superior.

“It’s different, when you care about someone.”

“I think I’ll stick to climbing trees and building forts with Prim.”

“And that’s why I love you,” she says, and kisses the top of my head. “You’re more of a kid than Prim is.”

“She’s too excited to get it over with. We get a few years, and then we’re grown.”

I pull the dress over my head and then Madge removes the curlers. I don't know why she’s being so careful, she has to know it’s going up in a ponytail sooner or later.

She scans the floor, and then looks at me accusingly.

“Where are your new sandals? The wedges?” she demands.

“Oh no. I must have forgotten them at home,” I say in a non-sad voice. “I guess I have to wear my flip flops.”

“If you didn't really want them, why did we spend two days shopping?”

I shrug. It seemed really important at the time. And then I remembered they're just shoes.

“Will you try to have fun tonight? Really try?”

“Sure.”

At some point, after going down stairs, we separate. I’m not going to follow her around the whole time; she takes her hostessing duties seriously, greeting everyone, chatting. She doesn’t realize she’s acting just like her mother.

I have a beer. It’s thin and sour but the warm feeling in my belly somehow makes me feel like less of an outsider so it suddenly seems like a good idea to have a few more. I sit down with a group with my red plastic cup, trying to remember I'm wearing a skirt, assuming they’re playing a drinking game, and not really paying attention to what till the boy next to me leans over and kisses me sloppily on the mouth. I draw back in protest, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.

“What the fuck?” I say.

“It’s your turn Katniss.”

I squint at the middle of the circle, and realize we’re playing fucking spin-the-bottle like a bunch of sixth graders.

Whatever, I said I’d try. I give the empty Cuervo bottle a hard spin. Only then do I take the time to glance around the circle to see who I’m actually playing with.

Weirdly, there are mostly girls. There’s Jessica Riley, Melissa Karkowski, the Vargas twins, Jared Unibrow is next to me, Monique Jones, Gretchen Wilkinson, Richard Talks-to-tits across the way, and oh, great, Peeta Mellark a bit over to the right.

Explains all the girls.

The bottle stops pointing at the girl beside Richard. He grins at me.

“Nope,” I say. “There’s only three dudes, if we played by the sixth grade rules you’d get like a million turns. I’m kissing her,” pointing at Jessica, who looks startled, and then weirdly smug.

She jumps up a little eagerly, and is leaning over me before I can stand. She presses her lips against mine, and I’m surprised I don’t hate it.

Jessica is back to the bottle and kissing some other girl before I can gather my bearings. I stop paying attention again, easy to do since I’m nursing another drink that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. A hand grasps my arm just above my elbow and pulls me to my feet.

Peeta.

“Hey, you’ve been drinking,” he whispers. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” God he smells good, like some kind of spicy smelling body wash.

“I think so,” I whisper back, and wink. Am I… flirting? I've done that exactly never.

Peeta looks me in the eyes, searching for something. Should I smile? I cross my eyes instead. He throws his head back, laughing. The whole time he’s got his hands on my arms, like he’s afraid I’m going to tip over.

“Dude. She’s fine. Kiss her already.”

And he does. It’s gentle, he doesn’t mash his lips against mine. He brushes against them. His hand slides up my arm to the side of my head. It’s nice. I open my mouth, and instead of jack hammering my tongue with his he just kind of slides the tip in. I don’t want to stop, but this is just a game so I sit down. Peeta stumbles back to his spot.

“Katniss,” says Jared. “Spin it already.”

I glance at Peeta, he’s still watching me. Well everyone is; it’s my turn. I’m way too delighted when the bottle points to Peeta. I stand up carefully, trying to keep my knees together so I don’t flash everyone. Peeta’s just stepped up to me, has just clasped my elbow, when pervy Richard speaks up.

“No, no. You two already frenched. It’s seven minutes in heaven now. Into the closet.”

We both stare at him. I’m not sure what’s going through Peeta’s mind, but I’m both simultaneously intrigued and terrified. What goes on during these brief rendezvous? Do kids just feel each other up? Hand stuff?

“Nope,” says Peeta. “Fuck that, I have a room.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out the backdoor, toward the boathouse. He walks right past it, though, and sits down at the edge of the dock, his legs dangling. He pats the rough wood beside him and I plop down.

“Sorry. I wasn't going to take you into that closet so Richard could get his rocks off thinking about me groping you.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Now he’s just going to think you brought me to your room to fuck or something.”

He cringes. “I didn't think of that.” He stands again, tottering a little, and offers me a hand up. “Let’s go back. Have you eaten?”

I shake my head and follow him carefully; the beer in my system seems to be messing with how far away the ground is from my feet.

A group of kids has gathered out on the large deck lit by hanging twinkle lights. Some kids are setting up their instruments off to one side. Playing music is always a family affair going back generations in our area. They start their first reel, fiddles and guitars and a mandolin twanging out into the night. Couples take their partner and begin clogging.

It’s damn magical.

I feel the pull to join, either the singers or dancers, but I keep walking. We edge around the deck and enter the kitchen. It’s already a mess, abandoned cups, spilled drinks, chip crumbs litter the floor. While I’m trying to figure out what to eat Peeta assembles an epic plate of nachos. I’m about to start my own plate when he indicates they're for the both of us. I’m too drunk to be annoyed that I have to share.

We pass Richard and the rest of what’s left of the group. At least half of the girls have left, and I catch a few stink-eyes as we pass out of the room. Some of these girls are as pretty as Madge, and clearly want him. Why is he still with me? The obvious answer is unclear. Does he pity me? I don’t need his pity. I do need a hairband because my hair is sticking to my sweaty neck. Peeta follows me to my room. He sets the plate on the desk by the window, but instead of eating looks around with interest.

Madge’s mom had the whole place professionally decorated about twelve years ago, it was even featured in a spread in Southern Living. This room is sweet, made for little girls. Above the white paneled walls is a wallpaper scattered with tiny blue cornflowers. The canopied bed, though huge, seems small compared to the size of the space. There are built-in cushioned window seats, shelves of books. There’s a rocking horse in one corner, and a huge dollhouse in the other. Instead of a closet there’s a wall of built-in cupboards and drawers. There’s an attached bathroom, complete with a shower and a seperate clawfoot tub. When we were small, and Madge and I weren’t outside swimming, we spent hours playing noisily, or reading quietly. I love it here.

Peeta steps into the bathroom, and pauses, gripping the edge of the door and staring at my swim suit hanging over the shower rod, drying. The door shuts with a thump, and I twist my hair up onto my head. The cool breeze hits my sweaty neck and goosebumps cover my skin for a moment. Peeta seems like he’s in the bathroom for a long time, but time doesn’t seem to be passing with it’s normal regularity, so maybe just a minute goes by.

“Want to go for a walk?” he says, stepping through the doorway. I nod.

We go back downstairs, leaving the nachos to wilt untouched, not remembering them till we’re three stories down. I grab a hotdog. For some reason it seems like a good idea to take a shot of whiskey. It burns going down and I gag on the aftertaste. For good measure I take another. Peeta silently hands me a red solo cup. I discover it’s just coke, and I take small sips while leading him down to one of the walking trails.

It’s dark, but the moon is out, so there’s not too much stumbling. I take him to the hammock halfway around the lake and sit sideways to allow some room for him to perch beside me. Still, the sides of the hammock kind of force us toward each other and we awkwardly lean in the opposite direction. It dawns on me, in an abstract way, that this is a very romantic spot. I just want to show him one of my favorite spots on the property. I’m suddenly worried that he might think I’m trying to seduce him or something.

I try to come up with something to say, or do, other than to flee again. I can’t. So I stare at the sky, looking for shooting stars. I pretend not to notice that Peeta’s watching me instead of the stars. Finally I give in and motion to the sky.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“The prettiest I’ve seen.” He didn’t look at the sky. Is he... trying to get in my pants?

“What?” I’m laughing, it’s so cheesy.

“You’re pretty” he says, shrugging and gives me a genuinely shy but sweet smile. I impulsively lean in, pressing my mouth onto his. We stop fighting the hammock and press into each other, our feet leave the ground, and the hammock swings us back and forth.

After a while the good feelings merge into something else entirely. Though the hammock had mostly stilled a while ago, I feel like I’m spinning. I pull away to catch my breath, and struggle to get back on solid ground, sinking to my knees. But the sick feeling stays, and then grows. Peeta seems to have realized I’m not feeling so good because he got to his feet and is standing over me, trying to help me up. As soon as I’m standing I go down on all fours and crawl towards a bush. My hair is unbound again and I struggle to push it back over my shoulders, trying not to heave. I fail. I can’t keep the contents of my stomach in. First comes up the sweet coke, followed by the salty half chewed hotdog chunks with the acrid combination of booze and bile.

Long after I’m empty I still dry heave, but eventually I come back to my senses. Peeta’s crouched beside me, holding my hair away from my face and rubbing my back in soothing circles. He hands me a crumpled napkin from his pocket, and I wipe my mouth while he hauls me to my feet. Taking my hand, he leads me back, promising a bottle of water from the boathouse. I mechanically follow. We stop at the door and stare at the sock that’s hanging on the knob. Peeta cracks opens the door, and I hear a strange slapping noise and low moans. I can’t figure out what I’m hearing, but Peeta quickly pulls the door closed blocking out the sounds, looking irritated.

I struggle against him, trying to get inside, managing to turn the knob.

“Peeta,” I hiss. “Someone sounds like they’re getting hurt in there, we need to help.” I ram my shoulder against his chest and my stomach rolls in protest.

“Trust me”, he whispers into my ear. “They don’t need your help.”

He quietly pulls the door shut and leads us back to the party. I must be pretty drunk still because one minute I’m right behind Peeta, and the next I’m in my room naked, standing on the hateful underpants. At least I’ve shut the door. I get a whiff of the nachos and fling the whole plate out the window like a frisbee. I’ve pulled on some boy shorts and an old tank top by the time Peeta enters with a few bottles of water and a bottle of pills.

I dutifully take the medicine he offers and down the first bottle of water. Is he staring at me? Or is he just really drunk too? He opens his mouth, but I turn and stumble toward the toilet. It’s a weird sensation, throwing up the cold water. It comes up so fast that some shoots out my nose. Peeta is behind me again, trying to save my hair from the toilet. The feeling of wanting to crawl into a hole intensifies when I glance behind me and see that more than a little water has splashed onto his shirt and cargo shorts. He drops my hair and removes his shirt and rubs his front with the dry part. He loads up my toothbrush with toothpaste and hands it over.

Legs shaking, I stand. I splash my face and rinse my mouth. Going slow to avoid activating my gag reflex I watch Peeta watching me. This feels way more intimate than kissing. Why is he still here? I try to analyze his motives, but my brain is mush. Clearly, as I’m puking like the possessed, he must realize nothing is going to happen between us. Right?

I lean over to spit, and through a mouthful of foam say “We’re not going to fuck.”

I’m not sure how I expected him to react, annoyed maybe, for putting in all the time but never getting very far. I glance up while I cup my hand under the water flowing from the faucet. He’s still staring at me, though his brows are drawn. He looks confused.

“That’s not- I never though that’s where this was headed, I just really like you. I always have” he says.

What? Since when? No… I’m suspicious this is a last ditch effort to have graduation sex. But there are plenty of girls downstairs that’d be happy to oblige.

His pocket buzzes and he steps back into the bedroom. I hear him groan. He’s staring at his phone with disgust.

“What?” I ask, walking slowly into the room.

“Sometimes I wonder how Rye and I are even related,” he says, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Rye is his twin, but not identical, brother. Peeta’s the baby of the family by, like, 20 minutes. Rye is a known slut, so that’s probably who was in boathouse. I wouldn't be surprised if he sent Peeta a text bragging about it. My phone buzzes on the side table. One glance tells me that Rye actually sent a mass photo text. I toss the phone at the bed and point.

“Make it go away,” I say, swaying a little. He snatches it up.

“Sorry,” he says, looking down at the photos.

“It’s fine,” I say, “It’s not like this is the first time Rye has sent me a dick pic.”

Peeta’s head snaps up. “WHAT!?” he says, loudly. Peeta’s always so mild, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him pissed. He chucks my phone down with enough force that it bounces off and thuds on the floor.

“Sorry! How does he even have your number?”

“We were lab partners sophomore year.”

“Oh, yeah. God, I was so bitter about that.” Was he? I did set the curve that year. Rye only got an “A” because of me.

I open my mouth to answer, but turn back for the toilet. I lay my arm across the seat so I can rest my head. Peeta sits on the edge of the tub and makes me take small sips of water in between the dry heaves. I’m so tired.

“Do you want to be alone now?” he says. I’m so overwhelmed with longing the back of my nose and throat burn.

“I want my mom,” I whisper, ashamed I’m crying. He reaches out and squeezes my arm.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asks quietly. I nod, snuffling. He leads me to bed, pulls the covers back, and then actually tucks me in. I’m out almost instantly.

Weak light glows through the window and my bladder is so full it’s actually painful. On my way to the toilet I see Peeta asleep on the floor with a pillow and a quilt. After pulling on some shorts and yanking the curtains closed I nudge him with my foot. He lifts his head and squints at me.

“You can lay on the bed, it’s big enough for us both.”

Then I fall back onto the mattress and pull the bedclothes over my head.

After an indeterminate amount of time passes I wake, a little too warm, but so comfortable that I don’t want to move. As I become more conscious I realize that Peeta has cupped his body behind mine and I have become the “little spoon”. At least I’m not being forked. I roll away to find a cool part of the sheet and fall asleep again.

When I wake again light pours in from the open window, a square of sunshine nearly reaches the bed. Didn’t I shut that? Madge is poking me excitedly, while Gale is leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Peeta still sleeps next to me. Madge raises her eyebrows, makes a circle with her thumb and forefinger and passes the index finger from her other hand through, back and forth. I shake my head rapidly and point at the door. I mouth “Get the fuck out,” to emphasis my point. Gale is shaking with the effort to not laugh out loud. I point again and she throws up her arms in surrender and tip toes out.

I squirm, trying to get comfortable. I roll over. Finally I get up and shower. By the time I come out of the bathroom Peeta is gone, like he’d never been here at all.

#I Feel Fine #THG #modern day au #wistfulweaverwoman

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littlemissaddict · 1 year

Text

Something a little different than usual but I needed a little bit of an outlet and writing is something that helps me deal with what's going on in my life. Also I could've done with some Eddie cuddles this past week or so.

Word Count: 1205

Warnings: Mentions of a heart attack, thoughts of losing a family member. I think that's it but please let me know if I missed anything.

She vaguely heard Eddie let out a string of curses as the shrill ringing of the telephone sounded throughout the trailer. Slowly he lowered her body down onto the couch as he got up to see who was ringing at this godforsaken hour but the pull of sleep was so strong that she didn’t bother to try and listen to who it was when Eddie answered the phone with a gruff hello. However she soon perked up when she heard him change his tune when he greeted her mother and panic started coursing through her veins enough so that she was now wide awake and sitting bolt upright on the couch with her eyes locked on Eddie.

“Yeah she’s right here I’ll just get her for you” Eddie spoke, his head turning straight to look at her with an unreadable look on his face and she was straight up from the couch on her way over to him before he could even make his way towards her.

Taking the phone from his hands as her own hands shook as she brought the phone up to her ear. “Mom?” she asked and waited for the reply, she was very aware of Eddie behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and his head resting on the top of her own and she leaned back into him, sinking into the sense of comfort he always brought her.

“Hey sweetie, I’m sorry to call this late but I just wanted to let you know that your grandpa has been taken into hospital, he’s had a heart attack” her mothers voice croaked through the phone and she choked out a sob in response, feeling Eddie’s arms tighten his hold on her at the sound. “I know baby, the doctors have him in surgery now so I’ll keep you posted you just stay-” her mom didn’t get a chance to finish before she was cutting in.

“No no I’ll come, I’ll ask Eddie, he’ll bring me, I’ll be right there” she sobbed, tears freely falling down her face as she felt Eddie slide out from behind her, already heading to grab his shoes without question.

She could hear her mom repeating her name as she spoke over her, trying to get her attention. “Sweetie, there's nothing you can do here, stay there with Eddie and I’ll ring you once he’s out of theatre, once we know more” her mom promised but it did nothing to calm her down as they said their goodbyes and she hung up the phone.

She turned with watery eyes to find Eddie standing by the door of the trailer, shoes on and keys to the van already in his hands but she shook her head solemnly at him. "Oh sweetheart I'm sorry what-what happened?" He asked, dropping the keys on the kitchen side as he strode back over to her, opening his arms and letting her sink into his touch once more.

"He had a heart attack, he's at the hospital but mom, mom said that I need to stay here but I just wanna go" she whimpered, burying her face into his chest. Eddie understood immediately who she was talking about, ever since she was little it had been her and her mom so her grandpa was the only father figure she'd ever had so she was very close to him.

He held her as she cried, one hand soothingly rubbing her back and the other in running through her hair, "I know you don't want to hear it but your mom is right sweetheart, the hospital is the best place for him, they'll do all the can to make him better again" he mumbled into her hair as she held him tighter, her body shaking with her cries. "You'll see him again" he added, the words 'I promise' about to roll off his tongue before he stopped himself because that was something he couldn't promise but he just hoped he was right.

She pulled away, sniffling as she spoke, "I'm sorry" she mumbled, not sure if she was apologising for her crying, crying into his shirt with now had a wet patch on or ruining their movie night by having to have him look after her.

"Hey, hey now you have nothing to be sorry about" he soothes, his hands cupping her cheeks as he attempts to wipe away some of the wetness from under her eyes. "You are allowed to have emotions, to show them how you need to and I'm here to help you just as you are for me sweetheart" he adds, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin. "Now how about we bring the blankets out here and camp on the couch for the night, it’ll be like our own little sleepover and we’ll be within reach of the phone” he suggested, smiling softly at her when she nodded at him. Her own eyes wide and radiating how thankful she was for him that he didn’t hesitate to kiss her, a soft peck on the lips this time before he was up and heading to his bedroom like a man on a mission.

He cursed as he came stumbling out of his bedroom, having caught his foot on the duvet cover which was trailing along the floor which he attempted to juggle into submission as his arms were full with his pillows as well. Although he was less than frustrated with himself for it when he saw the small smile it brought to her face, instead glad to bring her some happiness in this troubling time even if it was at the cost of almost falling flat on his face. “Well it’s good to know that you care so much” he teases in response to her amusement.

“Sorry Eds but you’re too clumsy for your own good sometimes” she gives a watery laugh as he dramatically groans, collapsing on the couch next to where she’s sat.

“Ouch sweetheart you wound me” he says, voice coming out muffled from where he’s still got the duvet and pillows in his arms which have now fallen over his face.

She crawls towards him, carefully pulling them away from his face only to see the shit-eating grin that’s plastered onto his face. It being the only warning before he’s throwing his arms out, the duvet moving with them until he’s got her wrapped up in it and is pulling her into his chest. “I’ve got you now sweet thing” he chuckles, feeling her wriggling against him and the soft muffled giggles that are coming from her. He holds her until she settles down and she's gone so still that he thinks she’s fallen asleep until he peaks over the top of the duvet to find her already looking at him.

“Thank you” she smiles as she lets him unwrap her from the duvet and positions them so that they are both laid on the couch under it. Her cuddled into his chest, now wrapped in his arms where she feels the safest being lulled to sleep again by the sound of his heartbeat as he tries to stay awake to listen for the phone for any news.

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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janaknandini-singh999 · 10 months

Text

Chapter 5

"Isn't that the same girl you knocked out in that reception?" Shlokaa's father slyly looked up from his newspaper and chuckled

It's usually brown aunties and moms who are into gossip but in their house it was Shlokaa's father. Shlokaa's mom would be too busy and uninterested to bother but her husband would take out all the drama and masala to relish.

On her father's comment, Shlokaa just wanted to pull his cheeks so hard until he got the sign to be quiet. Just like aunties do when some kids pass cheeky replies to what they say. Yeah, weird brown folk tendencies and urges.

Jaya uneasily shifted on the sofa, sensing the tension to turn into a storm anytime now

"Shlokaa! Did you really do that? Please don't, I don't want any kind of trouble here!" her mother fumed "Come on, you people are in 11th grade and half the year is already gone! Even if you don't like Vilasini, it won't hurt to tolerate her for just over a year now. Besides, you have to prepare for the head girl post, too."

Shlokaa argued "Mom! My tournament is during that time, you know I can't miss it. I've been practicing for it since so long now!"

Shloka's mother glared at her and that was her cue to listen now. Her rage came from her mother, she knew it. She admired her for being so independent but hated her for ironically not letting her own daughter be so when it came down to taking decisions, even though she knew that her mother only wanted the best and she was trying as hard as anyone could. A fierce mother raising a fierce daughter. Volcanoes did erupt.

"Ok," her mother quietly said "you can do the tournament."

Shlokaa finally felt her breath come through and nodded, silently thanking her mother

"But only on one condition. You will start attending anger management classes from Monday."

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"Vilasini Ramakrishnan."

"Present."

Vilasini was sitting on the front seat, she had occupied it as soon as she had reached the class, which was earlier than anyone. She wanted to roam around her new school until the classes began on her first day. She liked doing this anyway, getting some alone time before she would charge headlong into her hurdles and life.

The class teacher (Vilasini thought she looked familiar) wished her, briefly nodding and that was it. No grand introduction to the class - this was no primary or middle school, after all. Vilasini felt relieved again. But it was short lived. Soon, Aditi and Shlokaa came running to the class.

"You girls are late to the class. Don't repeat this again or you will be standing out of class. Sit down fast now."

"Sorry, mom- I mean, ma'am." Shlokaa didn't even meet the class teacher's eyes as Aditi rushed to sit beside Vilasini

And that's when Vilasini saw it - their class teacher was Shlokaa's mother. Anyone could've guessed it. The same fixed, undying expression and way of carrying themselves, like a careful flame ready to dance and engulf.

Aditi mouthed a quick "I'm sorry, I have to be with Villu and help her with work or you'll have to" to Shlokaa, who she nodded and gave a terse thumbs up before settling herself on her seat far behind them.

Vilasini was quick to realize Aditi and Shlokaa's plan and arrangement. If they had come to the class early then the class teacher would've made Shlokaa sit with Vilasini to help her personally for catching up with work as she was a new student in her class.

Fair.

She didn't want to interact with Shlokaa either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The interval bell rang and people, mostly boys, ran outside.

Vilasini sighed and opened her tiffin, continuing her discussion with Aditi who listened intently.

"So, Krishn ji is basically the Supreme Godhead and-"

"Actually, Ram ji is more of the perfect God."

Vilasini looked up to catch the one who had interrupted her. Shlokaa. Upon their eyes meeting, Shlokaa stirred ever so slightly, Vilasini thought she might've imagined it. But she held the gaze firm and so did she. She had never noticed it before but from this up close, how angular Shlokaa's face was.

"So calm, so gentle. Never a trickster or a thief." Shlokaa eyed her and continued

Aditi opened her mouth in horror - such talk of Shri Krishna in front of Vilasini!? Her cousin might just- but Vilasini quietly patted her hand to assure her.

"Meanwhile Krishn ji? He didn't even fight, he let the Pandavas and Kauravas do their thing and suffer in anguish." Shlokaa's eyes burnt silently

"It was their fight. Ram ji also only fought when it was his. But you know, what? Sita ji should've killed Raavan instead. Why let someone else fight for you, even if it is your husband? Didn't Durga defeat demons on her own? Didn't Shivshakti also fight side by side when the time demanded? If Ram Sita were equals then why should the man here just do? And then in the end even after rescuing her, he left her-"

"Guys, guys!?" Aditi came in between "We are literally talking about the same God, how does it matter? It was an epic of those times but in some version, Sita ji killed Sahasra Raavan too. It's all stories that we need to learn from and not fight over, right? They legit taught us how nobody wins in a war and here are you both ironically fighting. Y'all are missing completely the poin-"

But they weren't listening. They hadn't brought up this topic to rationally debate about it in the first place itself. In fact, they didn't even want to talk by throwing their faith and opinions on the other. They were talking to each other, this was just an excuse to do so.

"Big Krishn bhakt, huh? Well, your maakhan chor is big on giving people a second chance. Maybe you should, too." Shlokaa whispered

"And your Maryaada Purshottam never attacks people who haven't done any harm. Maybe you should learn a thing or two from him, too."

Clap, clap.

Somebody laughed behind them, clearly amused.

Manika emerged next to them, giggling "Wow, ladies. Nice talk! But I didn't know abnormal people could talk about Gods? Isn't it blasphemous or something? What ya say, lesbo?"

At that, whatever girls had been talking and eating their tiffins in the class looked up and turned towards them. "What?" one of them asked, incredulously

"Ahaha, that's right! Our new friend here is one of a kind! Won't you thank me for introducing you so amazingly to everyone, Villluuuuu?"

"Says the one who is a cheater." Vilasini spoke

The girls gasped louder and came closer to them.

"What the.. what the heck are you talking about?! Girls, don't listen to her! Just because her image is tarnished, she's dragging me into this. Ha, classic but unoriginal petty drama!"

"Oh, really, girliee?" Vilasini imitated Manika's accent "You don't remember Raman? The poor sweet guy you dated in your previous school while hooking up with countless other dudes?"

Manika became quiet. She wasn't expecting this. She could defend aggressively but they'd all see through it now.

"You.. you think you can get away with slut shaming me?"

"Oh no, darling. I really don't care about any of it, I'm a very liberal and sick bitch myself as you have already introduced me so thank you for that!" Vilasini winked and walked away as the crowd laughed and cornered Manika.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At dispersal after everyone had left the school, Manika escaped to that banyan tree where she often went and broke down.

She missed her little sister so much. The flashes. The-

Suddenly, she saw this small girl stuck above on the tree. No, not stuck. One hand clutched desperately on the branch, her body dangling, she was about to fall any moment. She let out a cry as Manika rushed reflexively and catched her. The girl started sobbing in her arms, still terrified from the shock.

"Shh, you're safe now, little one." Manika soothed her and caught herself crying too

"Sneha, where are you? SNEHA-" a deep voice called out and a boy in khaki pants and a messy man bun ran towards them. He was an inch shorter than Manika but appeared the same age.

Sneha jumped from Manika's arms to the boy's, saying "Bhaiya!! This didi saved me," she pointed up to the tree "I almost fell."

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I would've never forgiven myself if anything had happened to her." the boy said

"No, it's alright. She reminded me of my own sister."

"Ohh, didi?! Aapki bhi behen hain?? Meri age ki hain kya??? Can I come and play with her?" the little girl smiled her tears away

"Umm no.. she died in an accident last year."

The boy looked up, unsure of what to say. He couldn't imagine a day without his sister. This girl was so brave.

"I'm so-"

"Yeah, right. Thanks." Manika looked away, lifted her bag and turned to leave, clearly not in the mood to talk about it

"Ved."

"What?" Manika turned again

"The name of the person whose sister you saved the life of and because of which you saved him too." the boy made somewhat of an attempt to smile but it came out just as a stern but kind look. He held out his hand.

This boy clearly had no idea how saving worked, Manika thought. If it did work then Manika would have not thought of saving anyone else but her sister. But she couldn't. She refused to shake his hand and turned away again. One simple name enough to indicate a simple no.

"Manika."

Far in some distance, Shlokaa walked across with her mother with files in her hand. She saw the little girl in the boy's arms and Manika with them. She just rolled her eyes and moved on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shlokaa Sharma. Everybody welcome our new friend!" the bald man held out his arms

Nobody in the lot put as much effort to say hello, few smiled, few just stared.

Great, they all looked more or less as screwed up as her.

Her mother's idea of these anger management classes had instantly repulsed her, but she'd do anything for the tournament.

"Sir, why are you beating around the bush and being so formal? The earlier she gets used to this the better. So, Shlokaa? Mommy issues or daddy issues? Or whole family issues?" someone leaned and asked dramatically

A roar of laughter burst. Shlokaa darted the eyes to the one who had asked such a question. It was the same boy who was with Manika. But how dare he make fun of her family? What ensued and what didn't was her personal thing. Nobody needed to invade and remark like it's the most casual thing in the world. She would've banged the chair on this boy's head but she just clenched her wrists instead and breathed.

"Now there, Ved. No need to be rude. And everyone, HUSH! But he does have a point, Miss Sharma. I don't mean to intervene, and healing is an individual process. We are just here to help each other. But the trigger is a valuable point to identify and-"

But Shlokaa wasn't listening. She had seen someone else in the room sitting in a round table fashion with everyone here. Another boy. A slender, well built one. His face somehow seemed awfully familiar but Shlokaa couldn't place it. She was carried away into thoughts for trying to recognize him but couldn't. Soon the class got over and everyone started leaving.

Shlokaa quietly went behind the boy. He went near his bicycle and jumped on it. Shlokaa quickly started her scooter and followed him.

#desi aesthetic #desiblr #desi tag #desi #desi culture #desi dark academia #desi stuff #desi academia #desi girl #just desi things #desi wlw #saptiya series

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