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#oh and if anyone else of the 15 people who like the show want to add stuff share your thoughts or highjack this post go ahead
helen-with-an-a · 22 hours
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You always have an excuse
Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy
Barca Femeni x reader
Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.
Word Count: 3.8k
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Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.
You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.
“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.
The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.
“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.
“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.
“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta
“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.
And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.
It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.
“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.
“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.
“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.
“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.
Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.
The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.
“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.
“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.
“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.
Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.
She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.
You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.
The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.
“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.
“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.
“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.
“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.
“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?
“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.
“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.
“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.
The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.
Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.
“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.
You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.
But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.
You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.
“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.
“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.
“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.
“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.
“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.
“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.
“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.
“Oh, noth-”
“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.
“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.
“No. They aren’t.”
“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.
“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.
“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.
“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.
“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.
“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.
“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.
“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.
“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”
“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.
You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”
“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.
“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.
“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.
“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”
“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.
“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”
“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.
“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.
“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”
“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.
“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”
“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.
Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.
I hope you liked it <3
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m1ssunderstanding · 3 days
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 4.1
This is embarrassing but I'm actually so obsessed with the first five minutes of this episode that I've got it bookmarked in my YouTube account. It's just so perfect!
“Say you don't looooove him, my salamander. Then why did you neeeeeeed him? Ono don't answer.” He genuinely thinks need and love are the same and I really hope he's got therapy for that messed up mindset by now.
Officially honored as the most successful musical composer and recording artist of all time. That damn well better be mentioned in his movie. And people still don't take him seriously. But also. John definitely smashed his TV.
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I'm screaming. I love Linda the promoter so fucking much!! Interviewer: I knew a lot of your records had went gold and platinum and– Linda: a lot of them? All of them! Ugh I wish she was still with him now.
And then THIS! “What really happened between you and John?” As the first notes to “I Will Survive” play. It's too good. Everyone has to go watch that bit right now.
Linda coming in for the kill again with her fake posh accent: critics? Critics? Oooooh! … They're always three years behind.
Look at him (to the tune Bitch by Meredeth Brooks) he's a whore, he's a father, he's a star, he's a success, he's a lover he's smug, he's laughing, he's having fun, he's working hard. He's everything.
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Interviewing Wings concert goers and this one girl goes, "oh I just got off on all of it" and another one goes “It was great, i came twice!” Literally it should've been me!!!!
The McCartneys are seriously such a big family. And it's been Paul's responsibility since was about 21, really, to make sure they're all okay financially. That Francie story of him crumbling in the street in Liverpool haunts me.
"Why shouldn't they go to the same school as everyone else goes to?" State schools should be the only legal schools btw.
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I love what the creator does to contextualize their songs by pairing them with other contemporary footage. It makes it much easier for me to understand why something like “arrow through me” (which I love but none of the people I've shown it to do) would've been so popular.
Oh here we go again. Just show us the marriage certificate already.
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Cackling at the contrast between “Old Siam Sir” which is one of my all time fav rockers and footage of the Stones being cringe AF and Dylan being so beyond done he's basically dead.
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Oh. Okay. And then they slap us in the face with John's poor baby late 70s demo voice crooning, “Don't want your looooove. Anymore.” “I die each time I hear your name.” I'm fine. It's fine. I'm just vomiting my guts out because I'm sick. That's why.
The pairing of “Mr H Atom” with Paul's would've-been drag show is genius, but what is that clip of some sort of trial stuck in there? If anyone knows, please inform me. (16:15)
John sounds so sad talking about the “endless search for . . . Scotland . . . Within an hour of New York.” I can't help thinking of the Mull of Kintyre. But John was also the one who turned Paul on to Scotland in the first place, ≈always waxing poetic about the heather and the hills≈.
Sean is so adorable. Reminds me of my little guy a bit actually.
Why do I always want to tell Paul to be nice to John? John is worse to him. Idk maybe because John's pain is more visible.
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nordfjording · 6 months
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i never understand how people think going with me to new or difficult or challenging things will be helpful smh.
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suguru-getos · 4 months
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Fluffember with Satoru Gojo
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Prompt: Sharing a drink
Summary: You are in the early phases of your relationship with Satoru where you haven't even kissed each other yet. Taking things comfortingly and achingly slow. You go on a date with him where you share a drink together. <3 Warnings: None, it's absolutely fluffy in the most Dark Academia of ways since it has an almost poetic depiction of my love for this man lol. I have self-indulged here, so the reader is lean (Mentioning of his palm almost covering our waist); apart from that - nothing else. Let me know if I've missed anything loves x -> Talk to me about the man ;)
You hadn't spent much time with Gojo Satoru yet, however that didn't mean that the early stages of the relationship are not memorable and enticing in the least. Take today for an example, you can't wait for work to finish & go on a coffee date with him. It's barely been 10 days of you two agreeing to be in a committed relationship with each other. Your backgrounds were totally different, your brother goes to Jujutsu High and as his guardian who lives in Japan- you had met Satoru Gojo several times. He had introduced him to you as his teacher when he was 15, and now he is 18. A third year and ready to graduate. Satoru met you when you were 20, and he was 26 that time. There was always an eerie, unspoken mystery between you two. You didn't try on him though, as good looking and fluent in English as he was… something about there being no chances ever to exist caused your behaviour to carry a severe astonishing indifference towards him. Something that bewildered even Satoru always, though he was happy that there is someone who does not kiss the floor he walks on. It felt a good change, the only people who behave normally with him are his male counterparts, and women like Shoko and Utahime who know he is not to be taken so seriously at times.
Until on your brother's 18th birthday, he got him a fucking Mercedes. That was- interesting to say the least. You had talked to him here and there but your brother's birthday bash is the moment when you two started talking for real. Hobbies, what are your favourite places to visit, what irks you off, how his technique works… everything. Hell he cockily showed you his domain as well, something so beautiful you were haunted by it in your dreams.
You shake off all the thoughts in your head when one of your colleagues asked your help in something. He was a junior and often came to you with his series of questions and doubts. So far you hadn't mentored anyone really… though everything has started to remind you about Satoru Gojo. How good of a mentor he is for your sibling… Damn it, that man- you still haven't kissed for fuck's sake! Just gone on a casual movie date when he had to run off when your brother felt his CE in your house. Pft- funny… you can't wait for him to judge Satoru as a boyfriend when you finally tell him.
Satoru Gojo [3:00 PM]: Hey! :D You up for the date after work right???
You bit your lip as your phone's home screen lit up with the familiar name, no you haven't saved his contact cutely yet… you can't afford to move too fast. Don't want to be the one to fall first and fall harder and then get your heart broken to pieces.
You [3:01 PM]: Yeah, ofc! I'd get free by 5. Send me the pin.
Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: LOL
Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: 🤣🤣😏
Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: She thinks I'll not pick her fine ass up, mkay girl
You smiled a little at the text, biting your lip and raising your hand for your colleague to stop talking. He complied, seeing you so occupied and having dusted cheeks.
You [3:02 PM]: Okay, I'll wait :)
You're a dry texter at times, but you can be extremely chaotic when you're comfortable. Satoru still needed to unlock that gremlin potential after all.
Oh you can't wait for your work day to end, glancing at the time, listening to songs, finishing the Knowledge Transfer session with your junior colleague. Finally, it was 5:00 PM. You aren't one of the people who leave work on the dot, but today is an exception. You left your seat at 4:50, gliding towards the washroom and doing a final touch up on your make-up, before leaving outside.
There he stood, the man himself. Body language easy as a breeze, like a relief you'd expect when you see him with a tingle of nervousness that makes your heart ache. Oh he was wearing his glasses today, wearing a black shirt and some formal pants, waving his hands at you with a cheerful grin. He was the tallest amongst everyone walking by, easily visible and the most beautiful and ethereal of course.
You smiled back, walking towards him like an excited child and hugging him softly. Satoru wasn't soft at all though, single-handedly covering almost your entire waist into his palm and pulling you close, letting you drown in his expensive and luxurious cologne. Satoru smelled like power, if it was supposed to be a scent. A unique and distinguished scent that you wouldn't be too creepy to ask right now.
"Gosh little girl, I missed you. What're you doing to me?" He chuckled, walking alongside you and holding your hand possessively, intertwining fingers. Everything felt too much, and nothing at the same time. Nothing as in you wanted more, too much as in you can't take his touches which are now so relevant and so easy for him.
"I missed you too, Satoru." You still slur a little, and he looks down at you from his glasses, he loves how his name sounds from your voice. You've always called him Gojo san out of respect as your brother's sensei. Calling him Satoru helps break any restraints you have bounded yourself in.
Your office was near the bustling labyrinth of Tokyo city, and finding a neat and boujee coffee shop wasn't really hard for your boyfriend. You both walked in, and the barista was as mesmerised by Satoru at first glance as you were. Can't blame her, he is gut-wrenchingly beautiful after all. Sculpted by the gods.
"I'd like uh, to have?" He rips through your stray thoughts and smiles, looking down to match your height and leaning in a little closer to your face. "What'd my girl like to have?" Fucking hell you could combust! "I'd like to have a Chocolate Frappucino with an extra shot of espresso and some vanilla extract & caramel syrup please."
"Oh making a coffee mocktail are we?" Satoru grinned, and looked at the Barista who glanced expectantly at him for his order. "Oh we'd make an extra-large, and make it two straws kay?" He said is so casually though it was the cutest thing that has happened to you so far.
He held your hand and found a place for you and him, pulling your chair like a gentleman. "How was work, little one?" He muses, while you talk to him about your day, how you organized Zumba classes today for your colleagues and how your work was as hectic as ever but nothing to complain since you're not overworked.
He nods, and listens, like- really, really listens. For someone who talks a lot, Satoru was extremely observant and quiet right now.
Then, came the order, the Barista placing the tray with the coffee on the table & sliding in the two straws. "I hope you two enjoy." The venomous formality tinged with jealousy dripped out from her throat as she left. Satoru of course paid no mind… though you could observe how people looked at him. As if he was someone to attain.
You leaned in, wrapping your lips around the straw after dipping it into the coffee and took a sip. "Mm, so good." You almost moan a little at the exquisite taste. Satoru hands you the other straw, while you looked at him bewildered. His lips wrapped around 'your' straw, which had 'your' lipstick imprint and took a sip. Leaving you absolutely flustered and fazed. "So good, true… best thing I've ever tasted in 29 years." He hums with a genuine affirmation that only drives you off the edge. "Stop it, you're so dramatic!" You laughed, taking the other straw and sharing the drink.
How to make silly little things intimate - you could only hope to learn from Satoru Gojo <3 then again, you have several more dates with him to learn it after all. He was whipped and falling desolatingly fast for you.
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briarvalleyqueen · 7 days
Text
Your family is my family
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Malleus Draconia x fem!Reader | fluff
Plot: He finally gets to meet your family in your own world... 💚
Word count: 1058
A/N: I'm an amateur, I just had this idea and I wanted to write it down and post it! I hope you like it even if it's a bit badly written! 😊
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You and Malleus have been engaged for a while now. Malleus would beg to differ that you were engaged since the beginning but that's a discussion for another day.
As soon as you finished school you moved in with him to Briar Valley (taking Grim with you of course, who else would buy him tuna?). It was very bizarre at first, so many things to learn, so much to see.
Everyone now knows you as his Queen consort. Malleus still argues often with the Senate about you, who since his overblot are more reluctant to go against him and his wishes, especially when he treasures you so much he'll go crazy if he loses you. So they let you be since you have Queen Maleficia's approval, still throwing bitter comments at you now and then.
But the big question is... how will your family react to... Malleus? It hasn't been long since you found a way to travel back and forth between Twisted Wonderland and your home. You told them a few things about Malleus that would make anyone from your world look at you as if you're crazy. Honestly they're just so happy you're back and that you're okay, they don't care about the nonsense you spit! They don't believe you, they think something else has happened to you. You feel nervous but they just have to wait and see...
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"I'm Malleus Draconia, your daughter's soon to be husband. I am descendent of the fae that rule the night and heir to the throne of Briar Valley. I'm very pleased to meet my in-laws." He says smiling smugly menacingly at them as if it's not a big deal. I mean, it's a common occurrence someone's daughter is about to marry a future King of another universe who's not human right? Right.
Silence. That's their reaction to this for a good 15 seconds. Yes, you counted.
Finally your mother breaks the silence, "We're happy to meet you too Malleus, our daughter told us a lot about you but we didn't believe her at first." Your father just nods as he's still a bit bamboozled by the whole situation and doesn't trust himself to not spout some nonsense that would enrage this being in front of him. And if he is as powerful as his daughter told them, then he's definitely not someone to mess with.
As if sensing his worry Malleus comes closer and sits on the other side of the couch looking straight to your father's eyes.
"Do not worry, I'm never going to harm my treasure's own family. From now I consider you my own people and therefore under my protection." He announced proudly making your parents both excited and their head spin at the same time. You on the other hand groan at the nickname.
"Malleus not the treasure nickname."
"I'm sorry child of man, is that better?" He says immediately going into mischievous fae mode after you express embarrassment. "After all is the first nickname I gave you wasn't I? Should we now tell your parents our passionate love story from start to finish?"
He's officially done. "Malleus how about we talk like normal people and explain to them the situation? As I told you they didn't believe me but I think with your input they'll-"
"Now now my dearest I can just show them, after all it's nothing for me to draw lighting or engulf the whole place in thorns-"
You thank the seven for not bringing Grim and the Diasomnia trio with you because they'd make the situation more chaotic and overwhelming for your parents.
Your mom and dad panic, "You can do that?", they say horrified as Malleus nods seriously.
"Mom remember when I told you he put the whole Sage's Island to an eternal sleep because he learned his friend and father figure was about to leave? Yes."
"Oh God- Y/N just what-" Your mom is at loss of words while your father wonders if Malleus is a demon.
"As I said there's no reason to worry. My powers will never be used against you or your daughter. Her family, is my family." They both calm down a bit seeing how sincere he is as he reminds them again thay he's here as a son-in-law and not an enemy to harm them. It's time for a serious talk.
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Time passes and they start to learn more about Malleus and the world you were transported on. Even though they can't comprehend all those unbelievable things you both described they're happy you're happy and well and that's what matters. They find Malleus scary but they like him too. It's a success.
"So we can come to that world one day too? Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Your mom asks before you go.
"I told you mom, it's safe. It's what I'll be doing from now on. Besides Malleus will make sure nothing bad will happen." You say easing their worries. "How else are you gonna witness the most glorious royal marriage in history?"
They smile and laugh at your cheeky tone and your mother pats your back. The warm atmosphere is making Malleus a bit jealous but he's happy for your loving family. After all if it wasn't for them he wouldn't have found the love of his life. You hug them one last time before you leave and Malleus bids them farewell.
*Some time later.*
"My dearest do you think your parents liked me? Be honest." He says a bit pouty as you both sit on your room's big couch.
You smile. "Don't worry, they liked you. I know my parents were nervous at first but by the end I could tell they were more relaxed around you. Soon they'll come to love you just like I do." Your hand reaches for his cheek and caresses it softly.
He chuckles and holds the hand that is on his cheek, "I'm sure it must be this way if you say so. We'll soon be family, will we not?"
"We will my love, we will."
...
"But did YOU like THEM?" You raise an eyebrow.
"I did my dearest, after all they're the ones who brought you to life. Now I know where you got all your precious and really troublesome traits from."
"Malleus." 😑
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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months
Note
Hey! I love your writing so much so I figured I’d send a little request!
Could you doing something like Steve hase always noticed Eddie but Eddie is completely oblivious? With some first kiss/love confession?
OH ANYTIME!!! Thank you :) I am always here for pining and love confessions. The sappier, the better. The more nauseating, the better. The more I want to punch a wall, the better. I hope that happens here for you with this one! - Mickala ❤️
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Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening was Eddie Munson.
He was 14 years old at summer camp for the last time because “teenagers just don’t go to summer camp, Steven.” Which was ridiculous because it was a summer camp for teenagers, but whatever, not worth arguing with his father about.
Eddie was there, hair longer than most of the other boys, floppy and curly like he was trying to grow it out but didn’t know how to manage it.
If there was anything Steve could do, it was manage hair.
So he walked up to him and offered to show him his routine.
Eddie laughed, honest to god tears falling from his eyes as he slapped his leg.
Steve just stared at him, not used to being laughed at, only with.
But Eddie seemed to sense that he was serious, so he calmed down, but kept a small smile on his face.
“Thanks man, but I can’t afford the shit you do. I just gotta deal with it.”
“I mean, you can have mine at the end of camp if you want. I’ll just buy more.”
Which felt like the right thing to say, but Eddie just looked down at the ground and shook his head.
“Nah. Don’t really need your charity, dude.”
He walked away before Steve could explain it wasn’t charity, he just really like his curls and wanted him to take care of them.
------------
It was hard not to notice Eddie at school. He made sure he was noticed.
Everyone said it was because he was a “fairy” and thrived off the attention, even when he was getting beat up.
One particularly nasty rumor said he liked being beat up.
So when 15 year old Steve heard all this, he obviously knew he couldn’t ever say a damn thing about himself or any interaction he’d had with Eddie.
Which was really just the one time he’d accidentally insulted him.
His hair was longer now, just past his chin. The curls looked a bit better, though Steve could tell he didn’t use any type of conditioner, and he tried not to let that bother him.
He watched him though, secretly, when he could get away with it. In the halls or the cafeteria was easiest since he could always say he was staring at a girl if someone asked.
The way he just always walked with his head high, his confidence unlike anything Steve had seen from anyone that wasn’t a jock, made Steve’s stomach flutter.
He heard Carol say “confidence is sexy” enough times to start believing it was true, and that was before he watched Eddie strut around the school like he wasn’t constantly being thrown insults.
He watched as Eddie formed his own little ragtag group of friends, all outcasts because of one thing or another, only building his confidence more.
He watched as Eddie started driving a beat up van to school, making a name for himself as the guy who would sell liquor out of the back on Fridays.
People still teased him, still beat him up, but they were giving him money for liquor for their house parties left and right.
Steve watched.
------------
Nancy was amazing, everything Steve wanted and everything his parents wanted.
She was going to have an incredible future, and encouraged Steve to work hard to have one too.
He loved her. He did.
But he still watched Eddie.
Eddie who was standing on tables in the cafeteria, giving speeches that honestly, weren’t that dramatic. Maybe if he was anyone else, people would actually listen.
Eddie who started dealing weed in the woods behind school a few days a week, admitting the liquor thing wasn’t for him when he saw how many idiot kids still got behind the wheel to drive home after the parties he supplied.
Eddie who was unapologetically himself in all the ways Steve wished he could be.
Nancy was beautiful, she was smart, she was determined.
But Eddie was like a forest fire, a small spark that ignited with just a small fan of the flame, his best qualities hidden behind the smoke.
And Steve wanted to burn.
------------
Steve graduated. Eddie didn’t.
He didn’t get into college, so his dad made him get a summer job.
Eddie didn’t really hang out at the mall, wasn’t really his scene, but he did come into Scoops occasionally, and apparently only when Steve worked.
His coworker, Robin, rolled her eyes when Steve insisted on scooping his ice cream into the cone, ringing him out at the register, and watching him walk out.
“Are you poisoning him slowly or something? Are you planning on doing something stupid? What’s happening?”
He never told her anything, just shrugged in response.
Until the Russians. Until their stupid truth serum made him spill his guts literally and figuratively in the mall bathroom.
Robin listened as he talked about every moment, every look, every doubt he ever had about his feelings. About how he loved Nancy, he did, but she would never be the one he thought of first when someone talked about a future, about love, about a life.
Robin listened as he cried, sobbed really, explained how he knew it would never happen, but it didn’t stop him from wanting.
She listened until she couldn’t anymore.
“Steve, you’re not alone in this okay? I’m…You know Tammy?”
“Thompson?” He sniffled, finally looking up at Robin.
“Yeah. I’ve had a crush on her for like, two years.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“But why her? She’s kind of awful.”
Robin laughed, a real laugh, not a drug-induced one.
“Yeah, but she’s also kind of not.”
Steve nodded.
“I know what you mean.”
They were trauma bonded, sure, but they were also just bonded through life’s fucked up ways of bringing people with similar qualities and interests together.
------------
If Steve knew the next time he saw Eddie Munson would be when he was wanted for murder, a small part of him actually may have believed you.
Not because he thought Eddie was actually a murderer, but more because he knew what the town thought of him, and would have expected nothing less in the face of the unexplainable.
The three-time senior was kind of fucked if they didn’t figure this out, looking at a lifetime in prison for a murder he didn’t commit.
Steve focused on thinking about that anytime his mind wandered to how Eddie held a broken bottle to his neck, his other hand pushing him back, his leg between Steve’s to keep him there.
Robin pinched him when she could see his mind starting to drift. She was the best.
And as they worked to figure things out, and fight their way through Vecna’s curse, Steve managed to have actual conversations with Eddie.
They weren’t really ever completely alone, no one was while they were figuring things out and making a plan, but they still managed to talk.
It was enough for Steve. Enough to know he could maybe be friends with him when this was over and done. Maybe go to his graduation, maybe help him leave the town that was ready to burn him at the stake.
He didn’t expect it to be it. To be all he got.
So when he saw Dustin sobbing over a bloody body, he didn’t waste time. He had Nancy put pressure on the worst of the wounds, made Robin get Dustin out, he needs to go, started begging, pleading quietly with Eddie to just survive.
“You can’t let the fire burn out yet, idiot. Not now, not like this.”
Nancy didn’t acknowledge what he was saying, but he knew she knew.
He was tearing his shirt into pieces, makeshift bandages the only option for holding him together as Steve found a way to carry him to the trailer and through the gate.
It wasn’t easy, but nothing about any of their Upside Down trauma had been, and Eddie was worth it.
------------
Steve waited hours.
Then he waited days.
When a week had gone by, Wayne pulled him into a hug and practically begged him to go home and get some rest.
“Our boy will wake up and we wanna look our best when he does, right?”
He couldn’t really argue with Wayne, not when he’d let him sit by Eddie’s bed with him for days.
He didn’t tell Wayne about his feelings, didn’t really know if Wayne was a safe person to tell, but he figured Wayne knew anyway.
When he managed to sleep for a few hours in his own bed, shower in his own bathroom, and eat an actual cooked meal, he found his way back to Eddie’s room. The nurses no longer paid any attention once Owens and his government buddies cleared Eddie’s name.
He walked into the same scene he’d watched for a week now; Eddie asleep, hooked up to more machines that any human should have to, chest rising and falling slowly.
But Wayne hadn’t made it back yet, hopefully getting more sleep than Steve had been able to.
So he took the chair closest to Eddie’s head, gently brushing some of his hair from his face and reaching down to hold his hand.
Even like this, bruises and scars littering his body and face, he was beautiful.
His fire was still burning, Steve could see it.
He managed to fall asleep like that, holding Eddie’s less injured hand in his, head on the bed against his leg.
------------
A hand in his hair woke him up.
Expecting it to be Wayne or Robin, he blinked his eyes open and slowly sat up, ready for another long day of waiting.
But it wasn’t Wayne or Robin.
“Eddie!”
Steve resisted throwing himself at him, knowing he would be in pain, but he let his hands hover over him to show he wanted to.
“Hey Stevie.”
God, his voice was so nice. It was like actual music to his ears. He never wanted to go so long without hearing it again.
“How long have you been awake? Do you need the nurse? Pain meds? Where is the pain?”
Eddie chuckled quietly, small smile visible under his oxygen mask.
“I don’t really know but the pain is everywhere.”
“Shit, okay. Let me go get someone. I don’t even know who’s on shift right now. I don’t know how long I slept.”
“Stevie.”
“Yeah?”
“Calm down.”
Steve let out a disbelieving laugh, barely more than a huff of air.
“You almost died, Eddie! And you’re hurting. I almost-” Steve choked on a wet sob, his throat closing up as tears flooded his eyes.
“You didn’t though. You saved me. I’m here right?”
Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, and it clearly pained him to even talk, but he was doing it for Steve.
Steve suddenly realized there was far too much space between them, that if he wasn’t feeling the heat of Eddie’s flames against his skin, he couldn’t convince himself he was still alight.
He gently sat on the edge of the bed, taking Eddie’s hand back in his own.
“I almost didn’t make it in time. You were so pale, Eds. So bloody.”
“But you did. You made it.”
Steve took a shaky breath.
He knew he needed to say it. He needed to tell Eddie why he did everything he could to save him, why he hasn’t left his side except at Wayne’s insistence, why he was panicking so much now.
Eddie squeezed his hand.
“Stevie, you think I didn’t see you watching me? I started to think you were gonna kill me sometimes with how often you just stared at me.” Eddie took a few breaths, closing his eyes as he focused on what he wanted to say and not the pain. “I figured it out there. After Nancy. That’s why I came to Scoops so much. Loved that little outfit.”
Eddie was smirking at him and Steve let out a snort.
“I hated that thing. Robin did too.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that Robin never helped me when I came in either. It was always you.”
Steve couldn’t look at him, not while he was being seen so clearly.
“And all this? With the monsters and crazy people in this town trying to kill me? But you were the quickest to believe me. The one making sure I wasn’t going crazy. And then the one who got me out of there alive, even though I didn’t think there was any way I would.”
“Why didn’t you stick to the plan? You could’ve escaped with Dustin, been safe.”
“Because the world couldn’t lose Steve Harrington.”
“It couldn’t lose Eddie Munson, either.”
Eddie shook his head.
“I think you’re the only one who feels that way.”
“Really? You think Dustin could have handled losing you? Or Mike? He’s a shit, but he cares. And me? How was I supposed to?”
“Steve…”
“No! You don’t get to decide that you don’t matter to people. Everyone loves you and everyone would have been devastated to lose you. Wayne’s been sitting in this stupid plastic chair for a week waiting for you to wake up. You think he would have been okay with losing you?”
“Eventually, yeah.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I’ve heard.”
Steve shook his head.
“How do you not see how much people love you?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Steve didn’t quite know what to say to that. It’s not that he believed he was expendable, it’s just that if it came down to someone having to die, he’d rather it be him. Not to play hero, but because picturing anyone else dying was too much to bear.
“You’re loved, too. Every single one of those kids love you like a brother. Robin would probably marry you if you had boobs. I was willing to die to keep you safe, Steve. How can you not see it?”
“It wasn’t just me.”
“No. I wanted all of you to be safe. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the thought of you dying that made me cut the rope.”
“Why?”
“Because I watched you, too. All the time. I did things for your attention. I thought that was obvious.”
Steve shook his head. No way he was telling the truth. He constantly ranted about the popular kids, about how much he hated them and everything they represented. The hierarchy of high school continued into life and he wanted no part of it.
Eddie groaned as he adjusted a bit in the bed.
“I may need to continue this later, Stevie.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Let me get the nurse,” Steve muttered as he got up.
The nurse bustled in only a minute later, followed by Steve, who thought through the entire conversation he just had with Eddie.
Did Eddie…like him?
No way. He couldn’t possibly like Steve. He hated the whole King Steve thing. He’d said so multiple times over the years.
But so did Steve.
He zoned out while the nurse asked Eddie questions and checked his vitals, thinking back to all the times he’d been watching Eddie in school.
How almost every time, Eddie had already been watching him.
How Eddie’s theatrics always waited until Steve was in the same room.
How Eddie glared at Nancy, even when she was helping him.
Steve watched as the nurse put a new bag on his IV pole, explaining to him that this would be a morphine drip that would probably knock him out for another 12-24 hours.
He watched Eddie nod along, past the point of caring what was happening and just wanting the pain to stop.
The nurse finally left, and Steve didn’t wait.
He walked over to the bed, leaning over Eddie.
“You are an idiot,” Steve said, leaning in closer to his lips, grateful that the nurse had removed the oxygen mask and replaced it with a small nasal cannula.
“Am I?’ Eddie asked with a smirk, the lids of his eyes slowly getting heavier.
“Yeah. And I can’t believe I love an idiot so much.”
Eddie’s eyes widened for a second before they started to close again.
“You gonna kiss the idiot or make him fall asleep without one?”
Steve rolled his eyes, but leaned in to place a soft kiss on Eddie’s dry and cracked lips.
Eddie smiled into it, but didn’t seem to have the energy to kiss back right now.
Steve pulled away and rested his forehead against Eddie’s, gently, like he would break if he put too much of himself against him.
“You owe me a good one when you’re not high on morphine, deal?”
“Mhm. Deal, sweetheart.”
Steve blushed at the name, but Eddie’s eyes were closed.
Wayne walked in only a few minutes later, eyes wide.
“The nurse said he was awake?”
Steve nodded from his spot in the chair, Eddie’s hand in his, fond smile on his face.
“Yeah, she gave him morphine so he can rest some more.”
“Good,” Wayne visibly relaxed. “He tell you he’s in love with you yet or do I have to keep waitin’?”
“Well, not in so many words, but, kinda.”
“And you? You told him?”
“I called him an idiot.”
“Close enough.”
Steve laughed. It felt so good to laugh.
Eddie’s fire had spread quickly, the smoke clearing away just enough to let Steve be engulfed in his flames.
Steve was burning, and it was everything he hoped it would be.
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tarjapearce · 1 month
Note
How can you describe miguel mentally and emotionally ?
Oh man... This is a tough one. I'll start by saying that, even though we saw a glimpse of his mindset on ATSV, we still have sooo much to learn and know about him. (We just had it for 15 mins. jsksk)
I did this thing a while ago, focusing mostly on his grieving that addressed the rest just superficially.
I won't say I know him better than anyone cause
1. No. Characters evolve and I feel it'd be disrespectful af to just reduce him to a couple of traits or claim that I know him better than I know my nipple jsksk.
2. He's a complex character that is so well written that makes us all go psychoanalysing his behavior 🤭. (And love me a man that puts me to think)
But jokes aside.
He's emotionally unavailable. Simple as that. And though it might sound obvious to some, (And our savior complex kicks in and tell us to fix him 👀 yeah, I'm talking to us jsksk) there's no way we can do that, cause that's up to him ~. (And you can't help someone that doesn't wants to be helped.)
Healing takes time. And guess who overworks himself to the point of having his cortisol running 24/7 through his body? Miguel. He doesn't have time for therapy. His fear of watching it all go to hell once more is a too fresh wound. Some traumas last decades, and naturally people find ways around it without interacting with it directly to avoid reliving such impairment.
(I do appreciate the fact that in the new comic book, we see him trying to make amends with Conchata though. He's trying!!! :D.)
2. He's a patient man. I mean, he recruited after all versions of Spiderman that have this trait in common: They're perceived as friendly. And they're mostly young adults and teens. (Both are a handful btw. And most stories and comics Peter Parker is depicted as a 18-23 year old)
But they like pushing his buttons, (cracking a joke every 5 minutes, doing whatever they want even when specific orders were given) however. He doesn't strike me as someone that is mean on purpose, he's just wary but not totally closed off towards people. Wich is kinda contradictory on its own since:
You don't go around trusting people first hand upon just knowing them, right? 👀. But at the same time he showed Miles his own canon event, trying to empathise with him before dropping the bomb. (He was mentally preparing him, something he wasn't able to get but to experience the worst way)
A hypocrite truly. And not in the bad bad way (He calls a nerd the NWH Peter yet he is one) , cynic to an extent (Since he keeps repeating he's been the only one trying to keep it all together, meaning he still doesn't fully trusts the people around him.) A showoff (Did you see the way he turns towards Gwen when he first appears? Or the way he says "I was gonna do that") , arrogant to also an extent. ("It's much more cooler than a watch").
He took the job as a leader cause he knew none else was gonna, and if there was another one willing to assume the role, I'm sure he'd be dissatisfied with it's development cause our man likes to feel safe in when he's in control. (A trait often met in people with generalized anxiety)
And when he's not, his brain immediately goes into threat mode, but even so is able to adapt. (I have a theory he learned this the bad way. We've still got to see the origins of his Rapture intake though 🤔)
Now, we know this man is emotionally unavailable, through and through. His love is work. And married to it.
Now, I might get a bit controversial after this and some might not like it, but I don't think he wants another family after that. (We don't know much about this Miguel's background or family except that he was looking for things, and he found Gabi's universe. And for you to look into another universe in need to be happy says enough to imagine his family or is non existent or is really messed up.)
I know we want him to be happy, (And the producers better give him some healing and closure or else.) Cause he deserves everything. But grieving doesn't work like that. A loss like that is unmeasurable, it changes literally your brain chemistry forever. The least appropriate thing you'd do is have another kid or someone after such event.
(I've seen what that is an it's not nice. Specially for the involved kid)
But we're all ill here so Thank goodness fanfics exist ❤️
He allowed himself to be selfish enough to be happy, had his fun but consequences caught up to him. Consequences that he didn't know and now has him perpetuating his guilt and mind berating.
Hence the workaholic attitude, the coldness. He's done with establishing something with people in general, not just someone special. He's done of getting trampled by life, so he sticks with something he knows he can do very well and pours into it. The Multiverse is his hyperfixation.
Keeps him busy, keeps him on control but curiously and contradictory again, it keeps him needed and useful.
He's a walking contradiction. He doesn't need people to watch over him, not cause he doesn't deserves it. He knows that people worry about him, that's why he just minds his own thing to not be a burden.
Self-Sufficient, over achiever (Alchemax CEO & Spiderman, a genius, bilingual, probably more languages on his list cause he leads a multicultural and multidimensional task force babes ~)
He's not bad, he just doesn't know how to direct his anger or allows himself to feel properly and often rationalises his feelings. (Another coping mechanism where you're tired of feeling stuff and justify difficult or negative with logical thoughts)
But again, curiously knows how to communicate. I know it's fucked to say when he threw a trash bin to Miles before that. But! Hear me out.
Retaking the previous point, he was preparing Miles to give him the talk. After he throws the trash bin, he knows that anger won't solve things (Even though he wanted to give some chancla spanks to Miles for being an anomaly) So he chills, and you can see the transition between being completely furious to a more emotional approach. (Parenting surge there.)
He starts explaining everything from scratch, (literally with drawings and stuff) so Miles wouldn't be lost on what he was on about. Then they moved to the canon events, and shows his major trauma to him as a sign of empathy and an invitation to honest talk.
He admits he doesn't like what he does, and if you look closer his face is so damn distressed when locking Miles in the trap. It pains him, but again, someone has to do it, yet none is scarred enough to bear the burden.
I just want to hug him and send him to therapy. Cause he needs it. (Pretty sure he gave up on that too cause it was too time consuming.)
I'd be satisfied if the writers gave him that ❤️. But yeah. That's one of my many takes on him. Hope it helps c:
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whomstress · 25 days
Text
Ragatha's Bunnydoll
Paring: Ragatha x Jax
Rating: T
Hello! Long time no fic! This isn't one of my favorites but I've had it for a long time and wanted to finish it I hope you like it!
Jax has never been more angry with an outcome. Caine's adventure ended with a surprise punishment for the loser. Jax, unlike Zooble, who decided to opt out completely, played the game more than halfheartedly. He is much more interested in messing people up than actually winning himself. It was all going pretty great, especially when he was able to bowl Gangle’s comedy mask down the hall until he lost. He went to his room, not caring about whatever Caine was up to, and decided to try and take a nap. It's been days since he slept, so it might work this time. It usually doesn't, but he soon felt sleep fall upon him faster than it had in a long time. This felt like a trap, but he shrugged it off. Whatever it is, how bad could it be?
But, of course, nothing could ever be easy here, could it? He woke up on the main stage, unable to move. Of course he would. Why did he think anything else about this damn tent? He laughed inwardly; at least he could cuss all he wanted in his mind. He tried to call out, annoyed as hell, to someone to get him out of here, but that was impossible too. His mind was intact, but he couldn’t explain how he felt other than stiff as a rock while stuffed with cotton. Then Bubble appeared in front of him, and he was huge. Twice the size of his body. Jax finally felt himself jump at the shock, but he quickly went back to no movement.
“He’s soooo cute like this! I could just eat him!” Bubble said, menacingly opening his mouth to show his sharp set of teeth that were inching closer to Jax. 
Jax barely had time to react when Caine popped Bubble and appeared in front of him. "Well, that’s enough of that! Sorry Jax! I think Bubble is going through another teething phase!”
Jax tried to roll his eyes and say something sarcastic, but found once again that he was stuck. ‘What the fuck is going on!’ he thought. A menacing aura came from him, but even if Caine noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.
Caine came much too close to his face, and Jax wanted nothing more than to finally knock a tooth in. “Well JAX! I’m sure you're wondering, in appropriate language, What is going on?”
Jax just stayed silent, but even Caine could feel sarcasm dripping from the doll. "Yesterday, you told Ragatha the only thing worse than being stuck here was being stuck here as a living doll. So as punishment for today's game, I thought I’d show you how fun it could be! HAHAHAHAHA”
“But unfortunately, it is not in my code to make you new character models. That would require me to transfer your mind, and that is the only thing I cannot control here. However, I can change your form! So what do you think?”
A comically large mirror is placed in front of him, and Jax finally sees exactly why he can’t move or speak. He’s been turned into a small doll version of himself. His body and clothes were felt, and his expression was painted on sly. No wonder he felt like he was stuffed with cotton; he was. Oh, ho, ho, when he got out of this, there was going to be hell to pay.
Before Jax could start planning a premeditated murder, Caine jumped in. “Great! I knew you’d love it! How about you stay this hmmmmmmmmmm... forever?” Jax stayed silent in horror, but Caine jumped in a second later and said, “You’re right, that's a terrible idea! How will you go on more adventures!? HAHAHAHA Dinner time, it is! Have fun!”
Jax looked at himself a little longer in shock before mentally slapping himself out of it. 'Alright, you dumb bunny. Suck it up. Sulkings for losers. I moved earlier, which means I can move. I’m getting the hell out of here before anyone finds me. If Zooble gets a hold of me, I’m pretty sure they’ll set me on fire for that prank I pulled today.’ He laughs to himself, remembering their face as their pieces are scattered across the floor.
After about 15 minutes of trial and error, he realized he could move, but only in jerky movements. So he could swipe his arm or jump a bit, but it’d quickly go back in position, and he'd stop moving completely for another minute or two. He managed to get himself off the table, of course, landing face first, but the nice thing about this body was that it was so plush that he’s pretty sure he could be thrown at a wall and it’d only hurt for a second. 'Huh, it makes sense why Ragatha gets way more upset at centipedes than throwing stuff at her.’
A light bulb went off in his head, and if he could groan, he would. ‘Ragatha. This was her fault!’ If she hadn’t annoyed him, he never would have said what he said and gotten into this mess! Yeah, he's been picking on her more lately, but that’s just because she's the funniest to mess with. He’d found out a new way to fluster her by getting very close in her space. There was something addicting about the way her face flushed red and she’d yell his name. It was nice to see her like that.
You know in a funny way.
But it had really gotten to her, and she’d said something mean back, hitting below the belt. So he told her he might have it bad, but nothing could be worse than being stuck here in hell as a damn doll.
He stopped jumping even when he finally could again, remembering her face when he said it. Her eyes held genuine hurt, and her face pulled into a frown. She looked like she was going to cry. He hated it. She was just supposed to fluster again and yell his name. But when she did say his name, it was sad, and he realized that was not what he wanted. He felt an apology he’d never cared to give anyone else on the tip of his tongue before Zooble called his attention, and he retreated again. It wasn’t his fault; she's a crybaby, and he wouldn’t say sorry. Look what it got him into.
Ragatha’s eyes flashed again in his head, and something in his heart squeezed. If he could growl, he would. ‘Stop! It’s over now. We’ve been over this before. She’s not special. If I don’t apologize to Gangle, I won’t apologize to her! It’s not like she’d care anyway. She doesn't even like you.’
“Oooooh! What’s this?” 
Speak of the devil. Just his damn luck.
He feels himself being lifted by similar felt hands as if he’s nothing and he’s face, well, practically whole body, to face with the woman that was just invading his thoughts. Of course, it’d be Ragatha who found him. Doesn’t God hate him enough already? ‘It’s fine. It’s fine. As long as she doesn’t call you c-”
“CUUUUTEEE!” She squeals in such a high pitch that it makes him twinge just the tiniest bit, but she doesn't seem to notice after already examining him more thoroughly. He knew she loved dolls, but he didn’t think she’d say that about a doll of him. She pokes and prods him, admiring his stitching and design. “Oh my God, aren’t you the cutest little doll? I haven’t seen such a well-made doll in ages! I wonder if Caine is making some for us.”
Ragatha takes a little bit of lint off his cheek and smiles sweetly at him. “There you go, sweetheart, all better!” 
Jax can’t talk, but he’s still stunned and silent. He didn’t know she could smile that way. At least not to him. How does he get her to do it again? When did she get so pretty? He ponders that for a single second before he yanks himself back to reality. ‘Snap out of it! She’s only smiling because she thinks you're a toy, not because it’s you.`
“If only real Jax could look as cute as you!” He inwardly rolled his eyes again, but then she said something that made him freeze. "Alright, sweetheart, now that we’ve seen your high-quality craftsmanship, it's time to do the ultimate test for a plushie! How huggable are you?”
Oh no, no, no, NO. He hasn’t had a hug in ages. He’s not losing his streak now! He is NOT- Ragatha pulled him into a soft embrace, squishing her plush cheek against his, and moved a hand to hold his head like he was a real person she was supporting. The hug was so strange. It was firm but so delicate, like a hug you’d give to a loved one after not seeing them for a long time. Like he wasn’t just a doll. Like she wanted his touch. Like she liked him. Like she meant it.
It was nice. He guessed. It's super annoying how long she does it, but also nice. In that plushies are made for hugging kind of way, obviously. She pulls back, and he hates how he misses the warmth of her on his cheek. He almost didn’t want her to let go, but when she pulls back with a dopey smile for him, he really doesn’t find himself minding.
Her face suddenly sank. “If only the real you would let me in.
What? What does that mean? Real me? To his surprise, she keeps talking to him.
"God, the real you drives me insane! You know that?”
He inwardly chuckles, 'Yeah, that’s the plan, sweetheart.’
She slides down the wall to sit with him, hugging him to her, and he realizes he’s going to be here for a while. At least this wasn’t the worst position to be stuck in. ‘Why doesn’t she tell her friends about this?’ Well, actually, he understood more than he liked to admit. He never liked people knowing he was upset either. He understood a lot about her, and he knew the feeling was mutual. And he hated it.
She’s the only one who would ask him if he was okay. Ever. They weren’t even really friends, enemies at worst; if anything was off with him, she was the first to notice. The only one to notice. She’d find him in private or even in the middle of his pranks on her and look at him with that dumb doe eye and ask if he was ‘okay’. Of course he wasn’t okay! He was stuck in digital hell, not even knowing his real name. Nobody liked him here, but he could care less because there was no one he liked either.
“Why does he do this?” Ragatha snaps him out of his thoughts and starts talking again. “I swear we’ve been here for years together, but it’s all the same. As soon as we get closer, he pushes me away. And I know that dumb bunny trusts me! Otherwise, he’d never come to me.” 
Once again, he flinched at her, but once again, she didn’t seem to notice, lost in her own thoughts. Why was she talking about this out loud? What if some other idiot heard her?
“Why does he stay all night? Come into my room just to stare at the wall? So silent, not wanting a single touch, and yet when I go to move even an inch away, he stares straight into my soul? I know what he’s thinking; he has to know I know.” Her breath hitches. “Don’t-”
Leave me
The words fill his head, and his mind goes back to those moments. He’d stare at her until she moved back close enough for him to relax. It had to be less than once a year when he’d come to her, and it didn’t start until he'd been stuck there for a year. It was the closet he felt to anyone here—the only time he’d let himself be vulnerable. And he hated it.
“Why won’t he let me in?” She sighs once again, hugging the plushie closer. “He has to know how I feel about him.”
Oh, he knew exactly how she felt about him and how everyone felt about him. She was right; he’d push her away after that. He usually avoided her like the plague for at least a week in his sort of 'thanks', but then even he noticed his bullying of her would increase. He didn’t know why, but he needed her attention. He hated that she saw through him, but if she didn’t look at him at all, he didn’t think he could stand it. His thoughts are spiraling down when she interrupts again.
“AND WHY DOES HE FLIRT IF HE’S JUST GOING TO BE A JERK?”
‘...What?’
“I swear he gets in my face, blows in my ear, and looks at me like he wants to eat me! Even if it is kind of hot.” Wait no. He wasn’t flirting. He’d just been bullying her more. She must’ve finally lost her mind. And yet, despite the initial surprise at the sudden change of subject, he feels his ego bloat not only at her last comment but at the way she’s so flustered at the thought.
She suddenly yanks him up, so he’s back to being face-to-face with her. “Seriously, if you're going to kiss me, just do it already, you idiot!” 
He watches amusingly as she stares at his face, and hers blows up in a blush, cartoonish steam coming from her. But she doesn't put the plush down in embarrassment like he thinks she will. She bites her lip and looks around three times, like she’s making sure no one can see her. 'What is she doing now?’ He thinks.
“This is so dumb! If actual Jax sees or hears this, he’ll never let me forget it.” His ears perk at this, suddenly very interested in what she has planned. Blackmail is always great.
She blows out a warm breath that he can feel touching his face. “Screw it. It’s just pretending anyway.” He watches intensely as she closes her eyes and begins moving in. He can’t believe his eyes. No way. Is she really?
She’s much too quickly an inch away when he thinks, 'God, she’s beautiful.” 
Her lips touch his painted-on mouth only for a moment before a large cloud of smoke poofs him back to his real body with their lips still connected. Ragatha pulls back in surprise, yelping his name, “JAX! What are you? How are you?”
But he doesn’t let her finish instantly connecting their lips again. Still in disbelief, she tries to pull back to get an explanation, but he brings her lips back to his more eagerly each time she whispers his name against his lips. He moves her like a ragdoll, ha, onto his lap, and she melts in his grip. She’s not sure how or why this is happening, but she can’t bring herself to stop.
It’s soft and rough at the same time. Like trying to make up for lost time. Hot breath and soft lips clash and move together in a delicious touch. He whispers her name as he brings her impossibly closer to him, and she feels a shiver crawl along her skin. Goosebumps. She didn’t even think she could have them, but if she didn’t feel them now, she knew she never would.
Jax reveled in her little squeaks, tender gasps, and the music that was his name on her lips. Like a punch in the face, everything made sense now. How he felt. What she meant to him. What he meant to her. She liked him, and he loved her.
They finally pull apart from each other, gasping for air. They stayed like that for a moment before he started to burst out laughing. She wanted to laugh along, but that was definitely his laughing at her, not with her laugh. Ragatha looks suspiciously at him and says, “What?”
“I can’t believe you poured your heart out then kissed a doll of me!” Her face glows as red as her hair, and she goes to pull away in annoyance, but he pulls her back with a smirk. “If you wanted me that bad doll face, you shoulda just asked.”
“You’re such a jerk,” Ragatha pouted, but she could see the humor in it. She complained about him not explaining his feelings for at least 10 minutes to a plush, only to do the same thing.
“Yeah, but I’m your jerk now, baby.” She looks back at him, and he’s once again looking at her with hunger in his eyes, making her gulp and her blush rise again.
“You look like you want to eat me.” She says in a shaky voice.
"Hmmmm, that cause I do,” He pulls her closer, and she gasps, ”Good thing you like it.”
Her eyes hood, and she moves in, but he pulls back, leaving her disappointed. “Say it first, say you like it.” His mouth stretches like a Cheshire grin as she squirms underneath his stare.
She looks him in the eye and reaches a hand up to cup his cheek and rub a thumb along his skin. She smiles warmly at him as she sees his eyes widen in shock. “I really like you.”
He searches her eyes, looking for lies, but he can’t find them. That’s not what he asked for, but he can’t find himself upset when she’s finally looking at him like that. He hates that he finally feels his own blush rise, and he presses his lips hard together before crashing back into her lips. “Prove it."
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ckret2 · 7 months
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Chapter 15 of Bill's a human prisoner and everybody's grumpy about it, featuring: NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTM
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Remember these? We're getting 'em both in one chapter. Plus: FORD! Also: a little bit of human gore, a lot of bizarre alien gore.
This is a shorter chapter, but it's the first one with a direct glimpse into Bill's backstory and home dimension. I hope you enjoy! And are deeply horrified!
####
"You have to stop spouting this nonsense." A golden line slithered around him, weaving back and forth, her furious eye focused on him as she paced. "Nobody comes to your services for deranged muttering about points of light in darkness. They don't want to hear about things that are above-but-not-north of us! What does that mean, above-but-not-north?"
"It means what it says, Mom." Above him—above, but not north, in an endless void outside the plane of the world—countless stars twinkled in an unending dark. "That's where the third dimension is. And that's what it looks like! I don't know how else to explain it to someone who hasn't seen it!"
"Then why explain it at all? They don't want to hear it! It's a surprise you aren't already losing congregants. I know you can tell you're losing their interest."
He could tell. Sullenly, he said, "Maybe we just—just need smarter congregants. If they weren't too stupid to understand—"
"People are stupid, sweetie. That's why they follow you. You don't want the smart ones anyway, or they'd be smart enough to see through all the lies you make up about the third dimension—"
"I'm not making it up!"
"Every week you talk about impossible places that can't exist! Either you're lying or insane—which is it?"
How could he answer that? He looked up into space, as if the distant stars only he saw could help him.
"Oh, don't do that, I hate when your eye goes white like that. It might impress your worshipers but it doesn't work on your mother, young triangle." She paced around him faster, coiling tighter, surrounding him on all sides in gold, her eye peering straight into his. "I don't care whether you're a liar or a lunatic—you're still my golden child, and everyone else will see that too as long as you tell them what we say. Nobody wants to hear that the third dimension is a dark, empty void! Tell them it's full of color and life! Tell them it's filled with the spirits of departed shapes, or messengers, divine guides, muses—"
"But it isn't! I don't care what they want it to be, it's not true! I'm trying to make them understand!" He had to make them understand, he needed somebody to understand. He thought he'd go insane if he was the only one who could see how empty and awful space was.
"I've listened to your gibberish about points of light and up-not-north for months and I don't understand it, so how can anyone else—"
"You're not trying to understand!" Space and all its vast emptiness was oh, so close, so achingly close. Pressing against everyone's bodies, breathing over their organs, lighting up those tight-coiled fibers beneath everyone's skin, shining on the bloody bones and thin muscles. "Either you're not listening or you're stupid!" How couldn't anyone else see space?
"How dare you—!"
How could they be close enough to touch it and still deny what it was?
Why was he the only freak who could bend up into it?
Her sharp tail cracked like a whip behind his base. "I'll teach you to talk back to me like that!"
His mind was feverish with anger, pulsing and roiling behind his eye—and for a moment, he wasn't afraid of anything.
She could bend and flex and coil, she was the most flexible line he'd ever seen. The doctors thought he might have inherited his ability to bend up-not-north from her, some genetic predisposition to flexibility. If he could bend UP, so could she. He'd make her. He'd force her. He'd show her.
He jammed his corner into her side. She shrieked, uncoiling from around him to scrunch around her wound. "Watch your— What are you—"
"You'll see," he said, shoving her against the wall, shoving her into a corner. "You'll see if it's the last thing you do!" It was like cramming a long rope into a short box; each time he shoved, she bent and curved and bent again.
"Stop—stop, it HURTS—"
He could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for her to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'dsee the dark, she'd see the far points of light—
"STOP!" She howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room.
She didn't bend up.
He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured.
He didn't know what to do.
And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, rippling up-but-not-north and down-but-not-south, and his head swam and his vision blurred, and he couldn't remember.
Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. He’d seen grotesque injuries and rotting bodies before—he’d been in hospitals and seen through the bandages, been in graveyards and seen into the coffins, unable not to see though the doors and walls and tombs. He’d seen the way the skin came off, the way it split into hairy filaments as it loosened from the body, bristly around injuries or sloughed off whole from the long dead. But he'd never seen dead skin curl like his mother's, loosely zig-zagging back and forth and wrapping into spirals like the centers of flowers. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 
Irrationally, wildly, hysterically, watching his mother die, he wondered—when he died, when he was a corpse, when he rotted—when his body split open in half from his burst eye, as the labyrinth of his guts bloated and unwound and inverted themselves to spill in sick threads from his mouth, and his skin peeled free, layer by hairy layer, from his eyelid out—would his rotting golden skin curl like his mother's had?
He knew it would. He knew it would. He knew it would.
####
He woke to moonlight streaming through curls upon curls of golden skin dangling in his eye, choking him on rot.
He squeezed his eyes shut, batted the hair aside, and forced himself to breathe until the nausea subsided.
He hated how humans dreamt.
He decided he didn't want any more sleep tonight.
He dragged himself upright, shambled downstairs, and tried to ignore the coils of his internal organs spilling out of his head and dangling around his face.
He needed a drink.
####
Ford woke up standing over a bed and a body.
He couldn't identify the shape or size of the body under the sheets, due to how badly it was contorted and the way the dark pools of blood in the bedsheets distorted the shadows. All he could see was the head: a flash of a pale cheek turned away, and the unmistakeable Pines hair curls. The hair was matted with blood.
Ford's hands were coated in hot blood and cold blue flames. There was a nauseating metallic taste in his mouth and something thick and warm dripping down his chin.
He heard a quiet chuckle. He whipped around to face it—
And saw himself reflected in a triangular window, a gray shade. He was smiling so widely he could see moonlight glinting off his molars. His slitted eyes glowed a sickly yellow.
Ford woke up staring at the ceiling. He licked his lips; reassuringly dry. He held up his hands; clean.
He sighed.
Ford could roll over and go back to sleep. He'd gotten used to dreams like this decades ago; these days he hardly even had them. But he was already awake and irritated. He might as well pick up where he'd left his research at dinner time—do something that felt productive. He got up, fished a crumpled paper that said "Downstairs" out of his bedside stand and set it next to Stan's glasses, and crept out of the guest room to head for the vending machine.
Bill was in the kitchen.
Ford stopped in the next room, staring through the doorway. Bill was sitting in the dark, only his silhouette visible in the light through the window. He was hunched over the kitchen table, supported on his elbows, unmoving. Ford couldn't see Bill's reflection in the window. Not even his eyes.
Ford wondered what he dreamed about. Perhaps the thrill of possessing people.
He was half tempted to confront Bill—demand to know what he was up to—but, Ford told himself, there was nothing to confront Bill for. They'd given him permission to use the kitchen freely. Bill wasn't up to anything. It was well within his rights to sit silently at the table in the dark.
Ford just didn't like it.
He crept into the living room. Bill never noticed him.
####
Dipper divided the nightmares he'd been having since last summer into two categories: the Bill nightmares; and the Bipper nightmares—which were, in a way, also Bill nightmares.
The Bill nightmares were just his regular nightmares, except that Bill was also in them. For Dipper, regular nightmares were a mishmash of fears, insecurities, chaos, and random weirdness. It was natural that Bill, the most terrifying entity Dipper had ever met, occasionally guest starred in his dreams. The problem was that, since Bill actually could invade dreams and always brought chaos and random weirdness in his wake, it was that much harder for Dipper to realize he was dreaming rather than actually facing Bill—and, once he woke up, harder for him to reassure himself it really was only a dream.
(Mabel told him she had similar problems, and it wasn't even limited to nightmares. Sometimes, no matter how sweet or unthreatening her dream was—and sometimes because it was so sweet—their erratic scene-changing logic-breaking wish-making nature gave her the creeping sense that she was trapped back in Mabeland. Not often, she said. But occasionally, when Dipper couldn't sleep either, he could hear her wake herself repeating "—I wanna go back to reality—I want to go back—go back to the real world," and then meow herself back to sleep.)
On the other hand, the Bipper nightmares were like no dreams he'd ever had before.
They might start out as normal nightmares—dreaming of a near death experience, or a monster charging at him, or some humiliation too deep to endure further sleeping through—until he jolted awake. Or he'd think he'd jolted awake—in truth, he'd just woken up into another dream, so realistic he thought he was awake until he realized he was hovering over his bed, and the world looked hazy and false, and his body was still beneath the covers. Just like when Bill had ripped him free of his body.
The first time he'd had the Bipper nightmare, Dipper thought Bill had taken over him again, and that at any moment his body would open its eyes and laugh at him. When that didn't happen, he thought he'd died. He'd flown to Mabel's room, to his parents', to Waddles, to the neighbors' houses, trying desperately to get someone's attention—and when nothing worked, he returned to his still body in despair and waited there, sure that in a few hours his parents would come to get him for school and find him dead...
But then he'd woken up. For real, this time. And then he woke the rest of the house with his screaming.
He learned to cope with these nightmares, both the Bill ones and the Bipper ones. He talked about them with Mabel during the day or went to her for reassurance at night. Sometimes he called Ford, if he and Stan were in a time zone where they'd still be awake. (Ford said he'd had nightmares for years about Bill invading his dreams—and almost none of them had been real. He said that his visits from Bill were usually less chaotic than a normal dream. Bill liked his weirdness but he liked being the center of attention more; he liked to stage his dreams like a movie director, keeping a firm grip on the setting and the narrative flow, snapping from location to location and moment to moment with an artistry that natural dreams didn't have. The muddled mundanity of your average nightmare was beneath Bill.)
And Dipper learned to wait out his Bipper nightmares. Sometimes he wandered the hallways, but he found that engaging with the dream tended to prolong it; instead, if he stayed by his body and didn't do anything, eventually he'd drift back into deep sleep and wake back up. He started keeping a radio on at night—he could hear it in his sleep—and listening to the weird 3 a.m. broadcasts kept him entertained enough until he woke.
####
But since returning to Gravity Falls, Dipper had found a new way to deal with his nightmares:
Yelling at Bill about them.
Tonight, he was having his guilt-dream about his dad asking why he'd given up kickboxing; until the dream was interrupted by Bill emerging from the refrigerator to announce that Weirdmageddon was opening a second location in Piedmont and then throw a rabid skunk at Dipper's face. Dipper had woken up too angry to think straight, stomped to Bill's empty window seat, and then stomped downstairs.
He found Bill sitting in the kitchen in the dark, washing down a bag of cookies with a pack of hard cider and staring out at the night. Dipper stopped in the doorway. "You!"
Bill turned to give Dipper a bleary-eyed look. "Me?" 
"Stop messing with my dreams and stay out of my head!"
"Beg pardon?" Bill's eyelids were desynchronized as he slowly blinked. "I'm just..." He gestured vaguely around the kitchen with a mostly-empty cider can. "I am just—sitting here."
"You've been in my nightmares all year," Dipper said hotly, even as he was waking up enough to realize that Bill, down here in the kitchen, probably wasn't influencing his dreams. "So just—just..." This was stupid. "Cut it out, man."
"You've been dreaming about me? How sweet." Bill gave Dipper a mocking grin, propped his chin in his hand, propped his elbow on the table, actually missed putting his elbow on the table by at least six inches, and fell to the ground with a yelp.
Dipper stared tiredly at Bill cackling on the floor, and turned around and trudged upstairs.
Dipper found that, whenever he had nightmares about golden geometric apocalypses, it was reassuring to get an instant reminder that Bill had been nowhere near his head. Even if he thought Bill was laying on the "helpless human" act a little thick.
####
(I'm still recovering from Health Junk, so if you've got any comments, I'd deeply appreciate them now even more than I usually do. Thank you, y'all readers and commenters and friends are really keeping me going during this time of feeling like a pile of half-sentient gunk. 🙏✨)
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eating-plastic · 8 months
Text
Carnival Lights: Henry Barrow x Reader
Warnings: mentions of murder (come on, it's Henry), swearing, some mean!Henry, naive!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Henry (my favorite dynamic lol), some fluff, probably grammatical errors
Word Count: 3434 words
A/N: This is for that anon that asked me if I wrote for Henry Barrow (assuming that they wanted me to write something for him lol). I know I said I was going to take a break from Killer Frequency, but the “people pleaser” in me wanted to get something done. So yeah, I hope this isn't too disappointing. I also hope that my interpretation of Henry is to your liking (you gotta get creative when given a blank slate like him 😆). As such, I also hope anyone else that is a fan of this skrunkly also enjoys this as well. Oh, also, this takes place before the events of the game during Marie and Henry's "national murder tour" leading up to Gallows Creek. Just thought you should know that. Bye!
--------------------
Sparkling lights and the sound of upbeat music and screams of excitement flood your senses as you skip through the crowds attending your hometown's yearly carnival. You had always partaken in the festivities ever since you were a child, and the event still filled you with joy. Some of the older booth vendors and ride operators even knew you by name.
You had originally shown up with two of your friends, promising that they wouldn't get too "lovey-dovey" with each other since they were a couple, but that was broken about 15 minutes into your arrival. Feeling like a third-wheel, you broke off from them, not really caring too much. You could easily enjoy yourself here without them.
After you finished playing a game where you had to try and hit cartoon sea creatures with a water gun (and failing since your aim wasn't the best), you decided to head to something you knew you were good at: the funhouse maze.
You knew the maze like the back of your hand, and could easily make it from the entrance to the exit, so you decided to see how many combinations of routes you could go. You wanted to know every nook and cranny that these dark, black light lighten halls had to offer.
Once you got bored, you began to make your way to the exit. Once at a crossroad where you needed to turn right, you stopped when you heard a man let out a shout of frustration. Worried that they were lost, you made your way towards the noise to help them out.
'God fucking damnit,' Henry thought. He was so fucking close to getting the man his mother told him to kill. He was right on his tail and then...he was gone. Now he was lost in this Goddamn maze and it was all his stupid fault because he knew he wasn't good with mazes. It was a good idea in theory, since the man would be all alone with no one would hear him scream. But of course in practice it had to bite him in the ass.
He tore his mask off and shoved it into his large duffle bag at his side. God, was it making it hard to breathe in this stuffy prison. Not to mention how that man was probably long gone by now.
'Augh, what am I gonna tell mom?' worry began to flood his mind. She was no doubt going to be pissed at him.
Luckily for Henry, his unaware savior was approaching.
--------------------
As soon as you rounded the corner, you were now facing a man of decent stature, with long hair, a black trench coat, and a large duffle bag at his side. It was quite odd attire to be wearing in the middle of summer, but maybe he was just a worker at the haunted house who wanted to try out the maze on his break. He also seems to be oblivious to your presence, muttering to himself.
"Hi!" you chirp, causing the man to jump and spin around.
"The hell are you doing, here?" he hisses.
"Uh, it's a maze at a carnival. I'm here having fun," his harsh tone was completely lost on you. "You're lost, right?"
"What do you think?" he snarls, but you just laugh.
"Yep! I thought so! Come on, I'll show you the way out," you grab his hand, noting that he was wearing black leather gloves. Also odd, but once again that could've been just another part of the haunted house attire.
The man rips his hand from your grip as if yours had burnt his. You look back at him confused, but just shrug and begin to run off towards the exit.
"Hey, wait!" the man shouts and begins to chase after you, making sure to be on your tail so he could leave.
Eventually, you and him were able to taste the fresh air of the carnival, with the added smell of fair foods. You turn to look at the man, only to be taken aback a bit.
He looked to be a boy about your age, with piercing eyes but a very handsome face. You also noticed that he was unfamiliar to you.
"Huh, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" you smile at him, but he just turns to walk back towards the crowded rows of booths. "Hey, wait up!"
You decide to follow him. If he was new, you didn't want him to be overwhelmed or lonely.
"I'm Y/N!" you grin, but he just continues walking forwards. His eyes scanning the crowds and his jaw tight.
"Oh, you don't talk much, huh? That's okay! What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get something to eat? Oh! Or we co-"
"Look, don't you have friends or something that you can go hang out with?" he asks sharply. Unfortunately for Henry, the tone was once again lost on you.
"I do, but they'd rather make out in the tunnel of love than hang out with me," your tone drops slightly which makes Henry's eyebrow quirk up. After a couple of seconds though, just shake your head and smile back at him. "It's okay though, because I met you! I love meeting new people!"
'Jesus, what was your deal?' Henry thought. You were like a Care Bear in human shape. So sickeningly sweet that it was making him feel weird. How could someone like you exist in the cruel world his mom had told him so much about? Has it not broken you, yet?
"Oh, look! Bumper cars! You wanna go do those?" you beam up at him. Henry sighed. If he put up with this, maybe you would leave him alone. Besides, you provided him good cover. A new face like him dressed the way he was all by himself may drive suspicion. So he turned his head to look at your eager face and uttered one word.
"Fine."
--------------------
You weren't bad at bumper cars, but you also didn't win. Not that you cared though, especially since your mystery man had won. You were surprised at his skills and made sure to tell him.
Henry listening to you gush over him was odd. Not used to getting such praise from someone who wasn't his mother. And like with his mother, it made him feel good.
You continue to skip through the crowds with him at your side. He was still scanning all of the people around you, but his jaw wasn't tight anymore. That elated you, as you took it as him finally enjoying himself. You both stop when you hear someone call your name.
"Is that you, Y/N?" the voice of an older man called from a game booth. Your face brightens and you run to him, Henry following after you.
"Frank! I haven't seen you in ages!" you hug him over the booth's countertop. Henry tenses up and watches the man closely.
"You're one to talk! I haven't seen you since you were just 'this' tall," Frank levels his hand to show just how small you were when he had last seen you. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops when his eyes fall on Henry. "Hey, Y/N, who's your friend?"
"He's new in town! I saved him from the maze!" you chirp.
"Ah, okay," he drawls, looking at Henry suspiciously. Upon seeing you look at him fondly though, he puts on his best "friendly face" and holds his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, son."
Henry looks at Frank's hand before shaking it, still analyzing the older man. You are completely oblivious to the tension, as you look at the milk bottles that are stacked up in the booth.
"Hey, Frank! Care if we play?" you pull some tickets out from your back pocket. Frank's mood changes at the sound of your voice and smiles at you.
"Of course! You and your friend here get three shots," he kneels down to hand you three baseballs first.
You throw all three and only get three of the six bottles down.
"Oh, well! Your turn!" you turn to smile at Henry and move out of his way. Frank hands him three baseballs just as he did with you. He takes the ball, pulls his arm back, and....
All six bottles tumble down with a force that startles both you and Frank.
"Well I'll be damned! I have never seen anyone knock those bottles down like that! You play baseball, son?" the older man asks Henry, amazed.
"No," he says, shortly.
The older man clears his throat at the awkward silence before looking towards the stuffed animals that hung around the booth.
"Well, you won. Pick out your prize."
Henry wanted to just walk away, but looked at you in his peripheral. You were staring longingly at a pink elephant plush that had a cute, cartoony face. He points to that one.
"This one right here?" Frank asks, taking the elephant down. Henry nods. "Alright! Here ya go."
Henry takes the stuffed animal and nods at him.
"Bye, Frank!" you call as Henry begins to walk away from the booth.
"Bye, Y/N! See you next year!"
As soon as you both are five feet away from the booth, Henry practically shoves the plush at you.
"Here."
"What-?"
"You wanted it. I got it. Now take it," he says shortly. You look up at him, confused, but he still continues to walk forward and scan the crowd. You take the plushie and smile at it. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, with the softest fur you ever felt.
You squeal and pull Henry into a hug, thanking him. He tenses up and pushes you off.
"What the hell are you doing?" he scowls.
"I-I'm sorry, I-I just w-wanted to...," you trail off, hurt evident in your voice and eyes.
Your change in demeanor causes Henry to feel guilty, and the couple of eyes he could sense on him only added to that feeling. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.
"Look, I'm...I'm sorry, okay. Just...just warn me before you do that again...please," his voice is now soft as he looks at you, wanting you to know that he did really feel sorry.
"Okay," you whisper, still feeling miserable about making him uncomfortable.
"Hey, why don't...," Henry thinks for a second. "Why don't we go on a ride, huh?"
"Okay," a smile forms on your face. "Which one do you wanna go on?"
"Whichever one you'd like," Henry gives you the first genuine smile you had seen that night. This causes your own smile to grow and you take his hand to lead to one of the more thrilling rides. Henry doesn't rip his hand away this time, allowing you to drag him to where you wanted to take him.
Once at the ride you wanted to go on, you handed your elephant to the ride operator and Henry hesitantly gives up his bag, before you enter the ride.
--------------------
By the time the ride had ended, you and Henry were wobbling in the best way possible. Henry let out a shaky laugh. He had never felt so alive. Where had this been his whole life? You let out your own laugh at Henry's reaction, before you and him collect your belongings and go on to do more rides and games. While walking, and even making some small talk with your mystery man, he stops when he spots a phone booth.
Henry thinks about his mother, about his mission. He had to call her, to tell her about how he couldn't get a good opening. He wouldn't mention how he was getting distracted or how he was having fun with a living ray of sunshine. He knew how she would probably react if he was honest.
"Hey, uh, Y/N?"
"Yeah?" you look up at him, beaming.
"I, uh...I have to make a phone call. I-I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay! I'll wait right here!" you chirp.
He nods and gives you a small smile, before walking to the booth.
Henry enters the booth and sighs. He rummages around in his pocket before finding some quarters and inserting them into the machine. He lifts the phone and inserts the number to the motel room he and his mother were staying in. He waits, tapping his foot nervously as he waits. Then it stops, and a familiar voice speaks from the other end.
"Yes?" his mother says.
"H-Hi, mom."
"Oh, Henry!" her voice is cheerful. "Did you finish your 'assignment'?"
"No, I haven't. I can't get a good opening," he doesn't mention that he had lost the man to begin with. "Besides, this one person won't leave me alone. They're constantly following me around and bothering me."
His mom sighs on the other end and thinks.
"I'll be over there in a bit. Keep trying, dear. And remember, if you do find your opening, do what you must. Poor kid," she mutters towards the end of the statement.
Henry's stomach drops. He knows instantly what she meant. He didn't want to hurt you. You had nothing to do with...with all of this. You were an innocent, sweet person in this miserable world. Why get rid of someone like you?
"Henry, sweetie, you there?" his mother questions.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, I, uh...I was just looking around. Look, don't worry about coming over. I got this, I promise. I'll call you if I need you, okay?"
"Hm...okay," she pauses, clearly skeptical at her son's words. "Please just stay safe, okay? I love you."
"I love you too, mom. Bye."
"Goodbye."
There is a click, and then the line goes dead. Henry lets out a shaky breath and sets the phone back on its cradle. A knock at the booth startles him out of his thoughts. He turns around to see you looking at him, concerned.
He opens the door to the booth and steps out.
"Sorry," you apologize. "I just wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. Are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah, yeah...don't worry about it, okay? Food, uh...food sounds great."
"Okay. What would you like?" Henry thinks for a moment before cracking a smile at you.
"Surprise me!"
You nod and walk off to find a food booth. You knew exactly what you wanted to get. You had been craving it ever since you entered the carnival grounds.
Henry followed behind you, curious as to what you were going to get as you passed booth after booth. Then you stop, just what you were looking for.
"I was wondering when you were gonna show up," a woman greets you.
"Hi, Pam!" you smile at her and hand her some dollar bills. "Two candied apples, please!"
"Two?" Pam cocks her head to the side until her eyes fall on Henry. "Oh, I see."
She smirks, interpreting the mystery man besides you and how you were lovingly holding your elephant plush as a date.
A few moments later, Pam turns back to you and Henry with two candied apples in her hands.
"Enjoy, you two!" she winks at you when you and Henry take your treats. The two of you walk once more, while Henry investigates the sweet in his hand. You look over at him and laugh.
"What? Have you never had a candied apple before?"
"Uh, no actually. Are...are they your favorite?" he asks.
"Uh huh!" you nod eagerly. "I have to have at least one when the carnival's up!"
It was true. Ever since you had the teeth to eat them, candied apples had been your favorite treat, even with all of the cavities you had gotten over the years because of them.
Henry slowly raises the apple to his lips and bites down. The taste causes him to pause. He had never tasted something so sweet. It seemed fitting that they were your favorite.
"You like it?" you ask.
He nods his head, before he takes another bite.
--------------------
"So you really aren't gonna leave tomorrow?" you look at Henry sadly.
"Yeah, I-I'm, um...I'm afraid so."
You had learned that Henry was just visiting your hometown on a road trip with his mom. You thought that was fun, because your family always goes on road trips every summer, and yet you were going to miss your new mystery friend.
"Oh, Y/N! There you are!"
You and Henry turn around, seeing your two friends running towards you.
"Yeah, we were really worried!"
That causes Henry to stare daggers at them. They were worried? If they were so Goddamned worried about your safety, then they wouldn't have abandoned you.
"Uh, Y/N...who's this?" they both look at the man beside you that was making them feel uncomfortable under his stare.
'Good,' Henry thought.
"Oh, this is just my friend I made who kept me company this whole time," your voice is still cheerful, but you were still trying to guilt them. Henry smirks at that.
"Oh, well, uh...it's-it's getting late. We should start heading home."
Your eyes widen at that and you look down at your watch. It was almost midnight. God, your parents were gonna kill you.
"Yeah, you guys head to the entrance. I'll catch up!" your friends look at the boy besides you. Despite being the same age as them, something about him didn't seem right. They slowly turn around and do as you told them. As you watch them go, you hear a certain someone mutter something behind you.
"Henry."
"What?" you turn to look up at him.
"That's my name," Henry says.
You try the name out and smile. The sound of you saying his name made his chest feel weird.
"You look like a 'Henry'," you quip.
"That a bad thing?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.
"Nope!" you giggle and shake your head. Your demeanor changes and you awkwardly fiddle for something in your back pocket.
"Here," you hand him a small slip of paper.
Henry takes the paper and unravels it, a phone number revealing itself to him.
"Just in case you wanna keep in touch, o-or you know...just letting me know if you're gonna be in town again," you sheepishly state, squeezing the elephant in your arms. You had written your number down when he went off to make his phone call. You felt silly since you didn’t even know his name yet, but you knew you liked him either way.
"I, uh...I think I'll do just that," he smiles at you and puts the paper in his pocket. You smile back.
"I'm gonna hug you. Is that okay?"
Henry laughs, before opening his arms to you. You wrap one of your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist. Neither of you want to pull away, knowing that it would mean the end of your night together and who knows how long until you see each other again.
Unfortunately, your friends were waiting for you and he had a mission that you were unaware of. You pull away first.
"Goodbye, Henry," you quickly press a peck to his cheek. He tenses, but then looks at you shyly.
"Y-Yeah...goodbye, Y/N," a shade of pink crosses his face. He then clears his throat before pointing to your plushie. "You take good care of him."
You giggle and nod your head, before turning and walking away from him. Not even five feet away from him, you turn back and wave both your hand and your elephant's arm goodbye. Henry shakes his head and smiles, lifting his hand up to give a small wave of his own.
He stood there, watching your figure get smaller and smaller, until you disappeared into the crowd entirely.
--------------------
The man was killed swiftly in the haunted house of all places. No one suspected a thing, believing that the body was just a prop and the screams just sound effects.
Now Henry was laying down on his bed in the motel room his mother had rented. She was in the bathroom washing his knife and mask.
He could still hear the noises of the crowds cheering, feel the shakiness in his limbs after a thrill ride, taste the candied apple on his tongue, and feel your kiss on his cheek.
Perhaps when he and his mother got into the next town and had to split up again, he would see if that number you gave him was real.
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Now that I have gotten out of the fanfic bubble for a minute, let me just say, that one: I am not very happy with this woman who decided to come into Armie's life and pull this shit with him after everything that has happened to him. Why? yes, I know Armie is a big boy his life is his and he can do what he wants I'm all for that just like Timmy.
However, it kills me to see that he is trying to better himself (like most of us in this world who were abused by someone) and trying to become a better person just for someone to come along and have written on their story this long nice thing about Armie.
Just to turn around and be dumb as hell and write, "super interested in psychopaths" Armie is not a psychopath. Like most of us who end up abused, he is a human being trying to better himself, and become a better version of himself after the fact. And try his best to see the better in people but end up with people who either
want there 15 minutes of fame, because they heard about all the crap that was going on with him and saw and thought to themselves "oh my god! drama let me see for myself what this is about." Hello serial killer lovers of Jeffery Dahmer, Ted Bundy ect.
They only want to be with you because either you are rich as hell and want that big green and will sweet talk your way into it. Having no actual care in the world for the other person at all. Or you have something else that the person wants.
We find someone and think, "okay this is it. Maybe I will try just one more time. Maybe this time will be different." just for them to cheat, lie, and make excuses for their actions because they don't want to take accountability.
Which just instills for those of us who have to or are trying to rewire our thinking from the abuse, that this is just another person who proved to us that we can't open up to anyone. And that there probably isn't a real genuine human being out there who will love us (other than our mommas, grandmas and sisters if you have them in your life or at all) for just us and actually want to see us happy, and actually want to be with us. Instead of adding to the already warped way we end up seeing the world thanks to the abusers.
Now let me clairify this: I am not talking about the "I'm gonna die alone." #foreveralone bs. that people do when they can't stand to be by themselves. NO. I am talking about actually have been alone, can stand and be okay with being alone but, want to experience a real loving relationship that actually lasts with someone who isn't toxic.
It breaks my heart that both Timmy and Armie have to result to having people like this around them in their lives. Or that these people end up finding them. Both of them deserve to be happy, healthy and more importantly they deserve to be with people who will treat them like they deserve. For whom they actually are and not the way Hollywood perceives them to be.
And I have to say after all this shit.... Armie you need to get with Timmy, you two need to go snag Luca and hop your asses on a plane get far away from Hollywood. Go back to Crema, turn off your damn phones and just breath for awhile and this is not me hinting at the sequel as much as I would love that.
These two men need to be around each other again and a hell of a lot more often to keep both of them from doing stupid shit. Like this. Seriously, guys I love you both but you need to focus on yourselves, Armie (your kids) rather than getting into PR bs and having toxic people invade your spaces. Stop jumping pussy and get back to talking about the things that matter. 🙄🙄
Luca, I know you are a busy man, but could you please at some point when you are not so busy to kidnap your boys and take them back to Italy with you.
And Two: WHO IS READY FOR THE CRAZINESS TO GET BACK TO SOME RESEMBLENCE OF NORMALCY? SHOW OF HANDS ANYBODY? 🙌🏻
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farity · 6 months
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Obsession, part 15
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"Daeron called. He wants to know if he needs to come home."
Aemond looked up. "The last thing I need to worry about is Daeron being here. He's safe with grandfather."
"After all this Baratheon mess is over," Aegon said, "we'll all get together. But I was thinking we should strike first."
When Aemond said nothing, Aegon sat across from his brother. "I don't particularly feel like spending my time worrying about when the Baratheons will strike. I suggest we make a plan. Get the daughters married to our allies so we know where they are, take over Storm's End, make sure Borros is never a problem."
"That will take a lot of planning. A lot of firepower. A lot of banners being called."
Aegon nodded. "I trust you. Put a plan together, I can start setting up potential destinations for the daughters, calling on our allies. They've just pledged loyalty, might as well put them to good use."
Aemond smirked. "What about you? When are you getting married?"
"Oh, don't fucking tell me you've become one of those married people who want everyone else to get married."
"No, but it's been a while since you dated anyone."
"I don't fucking date. What do you want me to do, go to a fucking bar and meet some girl?"
"Um-"
Both brothers turned to see Helaena standing at the doorway.
"I'm going out with Cregan, I might not be back until super late."
"I don't want to fucking know," Aegon said. "Seriously, just go. And remember, No Glove, No Love."
"Oh my gods, Aegon!" Helaena turned bright pink and left in a hurry, and Aegon started cackling.
Aemond studied his brother. "You are such a weirdo."
"Do you want a litter of little dragonwolves running around? Because I don't. And anyway," he added, turning serious, "let me know. I don't want this to be a dark cloud hanging over us. What's the fucking point of being the ruling House if we live our lives wondering when we're going to be attacked?"
* * * * *
"You know, Aegon was seeing someone for a while," Alicent said while out on the gazebo. She was halfway through one coffee cup and you looked up, wondering why she would tell you about her oldest child's love life.
"Um, okay?"
She smiled. "A therapist, I mean. She is very good and when Aegon was losing his way and we wouldn't seeing for weeks at a time, she helped him straighten out."
You buttered your toast, saying nothing. You hadn't kept up with the gossip on the Targaryens before you became one of them. You knew of them, of course, but you didn't scrutinize the press for news and rumors on them.
"It must be shocking to be part of this family when you've known only . . . " she waved a manicured hand around, "normal people life. If you need to talk to someone, I can have her come here. Every week if you wish." She drank more of her coffee. "It's not good to bottle things up."
"Thank you. It's been such a whirlwind, really. I will take you up on that," you said, and took a bite of your toast.
She smiled at you, nodding. "Very well, I will set it up."
"Mom!"
"Helaena, dearest, sit with us."
* * * * *
"Oh, that was just a silly thing. It doesn't bother me," Helaena said after Alicent left.
You had wanted to make sure, now that you knew one of the Baratheon daughters was going to marry the Snow boy that Helaena once liked.
"I don't know that I have any influence on this, but if you would rather he didn't marry her, I can-"
"You have influence," Helaena said, eyes wide, "believe me."
You made a scoffing sound, "please."
She took a long swig of her orange juice. "It's true. You know Aegon is not supposed to go with Aemond when he's doing," she lowered her voice and leaned in, "gun stuff."
"So?"
"He went because of you. He wanted to show respect to Aemond. Plus more than once he's said, 'oh, Aemond's wife said this, and she told me that,' which means he listens to you. So," she smiled at you, "you have influence. But no, there's no need. I am very happy with Cregan."
Leaning over, you raised an eyebrow at her. "oh yeah?"
She smiled happily. "He's told me he wants to marry me, that he knows I'm the one for him, that he will wait until I know he's the one for me."
"Oh my gosh, Hel! So romantic!"
"Who's romantic?"
You whirled around at the sound of Aemond's voice. "The guy from the movie," you replied easily.
"Hmm."
"Are you joining us for breakfast, brother?"
Aemond kissed the top of your head. "No, I need to talk to Aegon." He ran his fingertips across the back of your neck before continuing to the house.
* * * * *
"I locked the bank accounts in Essos, that's where Borros was keeping a lot of hidden accounts. He's been funneling money from his own allies and now he doesn't have access to it."
Aegon nodded. "Well done." He checked his phone, then looked back at his brother. "Tomorrow I will let him know we've found husbands for his daughters, and then it should get interesting."
Aemond nodded slowly. "I can't imagine he's going to take the news well. Even worse when we tell him his assets are frozen and all he has is the miserly budget he runs his household on." He smiled at the thought, "shouldn't have messed with us if he didn't want retaliation."
"I sent people to the borders, in case they try to run. We have people in Pentos, too, they will let us know if they hear anything. I'd prefer not to have to go myself."
"Would that be because you don't want to be away from your wife?"
Aemond glared at his brother. "Fuck off."
"Yep, I thought so. I have a zoom meeting with the Martells. They keep asking me to go to Dorne but I can't until this is all settled. Anyway, sounds like you have this all handled."
Aegon left and Aemond's thought went to his wife, remembering the answer she'd given him earlier.
She loved him. It both comforted and frightened him, and he hadn't wanted to delve too much into his own feelings for her. It was complicated.
Feelings had always been complicated.
He had been teased and bullied by his brother and cousins. Ignored by his father. His mother found him the easiest to love, compared to Aegon's recklessness and Helaena's unwillingness to open up. Then the incident with Luke. Then the other incident with Luke. He felt cursed and like if he didn't excel at everything he did, he would be ostracized again.
Aegon had matured and Helaena had decided she adored him, and his mother appreciated him. She loved him in her own way, he was sure.
He hadn't even thought about his father making the decision to kill him. He couldn't.
He thought of a child. His child. He would protect them with everything he had. He wouldn't make them prove themselves to him over and over. Then he saw her, clear as day in his mind. Her belly large with his child inside her. He felt his insides clench with want.
Would she even want a child with him? When he couldn't even tell her what she meant to him? He knew Helaena had procured birth control for her, the day they'd arrived at the safe house. It was what Helaena did. If Daeron lost his inhaler on a trip somewhere, Helaena had a replacement couriered to him within the hour.
The thought of his wife, pregnant, holding their child, teaching their baby to walk, Aemond realized he was smiling and that tears had gathered in his eye.
She loved him. And he was a fucking coward who had nearly lost her and couldn't even form the words.
* * * * *
You turned your face back and forth before the mirror in the bathroom. The scratch had faded to almost nothing, the bruises were gone. Your feet had healed up and Aemond had told you the self-defense instructor would start in a couple of weeks.
You heard the front door open and you went to find Aemond walking in. He headed straight for you and, cradling your face in his hands, kissed you so gently that you could only lean in against him, your hands on top of his.
"I'm a fool," he said, pulling back. "I'm the biggest fool there is."
"Aemond, what is it?"
He was still holding your head in his hands, and he looked flushed. "I've spent the last ten years holding people at arm's length. and fuck this, I don't want to any more."
"Aemond," you whispered, touching his cheek.
"I love you."
Your mouth dropped open, but you found that you couldn't speak.
"I adore you. I love being with you. I love having a future with you. I married you because I couldn't let you go."
You felt the heat of tears beginning to gather in your eyes.
"I love laughing with you, and knowing that you are mine, and sleeping next to you. I love that I belong to you and you belong to me. I hate that-"
You pressed a hand to his mouth. "Nope, we're not doing hate stuff right now," you said as you started crying, and he wrapped his arms around you.
"I've been a godsdamned fool."
"Stop."
He kissed you again, then pressed his forehead against yours. "I want a life with you," he whispered, "a life full of joy, and adventure, and all the dumb bullshit happy people do."
You laughed through your tears. "Oh, we have adventure all right, I don't think we'll be lacking in that." You kissed him, wiping off your tears. "I want it all, Aemond. I want everything with you."
He kissed you again, and you stayed like that, holding each other in the middle of the living room for a long time.
* * * * *
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bunnygirl678 · 6 months
Text
Back at it again with another Reguri AU that I don't have time to write. So steal it please! Seriously feel free to write, draw, or use it to distract your mind enough to fall asleep (is that a thing other people do or am I just freaking weird)
-Red and Green are on their honeymoon in alola (duh) and they are doing a fun little couples battle with some of the alolan pokemon they've caught
-one of the tapu's sees them and wants to fuck with them cause they're unhinged (my 5 year old has rewatched the sun/moon anime like 15 times and i still can't remember which one does what)
-sends green back into time (note this is gonna be like dragon ball z time travel where it just created a new timeline or whatever)
-he gets transported midbattle with little red, but like not the championship and most of his pokemon haven't evolved yet
-Big!green is just like awwww you guys were so cute, little!red immediately realizes that somehow Green aged like 12 years in a flash and is obv confused, green explains that he was on vacay with his Red and got sent here somehow, let's go to the lab and see if gramps can help
-they travel to the lab or whatever, and the prof is immediately like "My dead son!" cause my hc is that green looks identical to his dad, and big!green is like nah sorry gramps it's just me from the future
-and they all talk and little!red is like, you aren't an asshole, anymore? and big!green like apologizes for little!green, and is like it may not seem like it but i know he cares about you, because big!green knows that during their journey he realized he had feelings for red, but like didn't want them so he just started being an asshole
-at some point daisy sees the ring and is like "oh you got married?! Whos the lucky lady anyone we know yet?" and big!green kinda like does an awkward quick glance at little!red, and is trying to figure out how to not out his past self because this isn't his secret to tell
-the prof is like 'oh holy shit you and red figured things out' cause he observes and figured it out when green was like 7 or something, and little!red is like wtf and big!green is like yeah but not for a while and then he gives little!red some training just cause what else are they going to do, plus little!red is having a crisis, cause he thinks his version of green hates him
-then it like flips to big!red's perspective and little!green shows up freaking out shouting for his red cause they were just together, and he see's big!red who is swole af and doesn't look that much like his red so he thinks his red has been kidnapped or something, and little!green goes absolutely feral, cause remember he has feelings for his red
-he's like i'll kill you, did you hurt him, where's red, and big!red is like this is the most adorable thing I've ever seen, and like big!green at one point had told him that he had feelings for Red when they were small but Red didn't really believe it until that moment, and also he's like hmmm green and i should adopt cause he's like high on honeymoon and little!green is such a cutie
-Big!Red is like i'm red, it's fine, little!green doesn't believe it until big!red brings up something that like only he would remember like they caught a caterpie together or something idk
-big!red goes and buys little!green some food and they kinda talk and little!green can't stop staring cause wow big!red looks so different, then he sees the wedding ring and is like devastated, and is trying not to cry or whatever and big!red is like able to read him like a book cause it's green even though it's little!green it's still green, and he like pulls out his phone and it's a photo from their wedding and little!green like short circuts cause he didn't even realize that was an option
-somehow they get to switch back and the other timeline red/green work out their issues quickly both with knowledge of the future and they start dating at like 14, cause 11 year olds don't date, and red never goes up the mountain except for the occasional week of training and green always goes with him and it's never angsty like the other timeline
-the alolan honeymooners are just glad to be together again and they finish their time in alola and red's like let's adopt and green's like whatever makes you happy
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hon3ymo0n · 7 months
Note
https://youtube.com/shorts/VrnOIhvcPDM?feature=share
That's his bf isn't it? Then why he's acting like this 😭
ANON😁😁😁
Ofc he is🤨 lemme reassure you🫂
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Link
Firstly we have Jungkook’s reaction to kitty gang Jimin body rocking the shit out of himself.
https://x.com/winnttaebear/status/1583292758122717184?s=46
JK covers his mouth, smirks, and screams “OH JIMIN!”. I know we heard him doing that so many times, but it’s always funny. Everyone was silent and chilling but JK had a physical and vocal uncontrollable reaction😛😛😛
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That concert was a cultural reset and Jimin’s body rolls are always giving. So Jungkook’s reaction is not out of place AT ALL
What makes it kinda 🤨 is the difference. The difference between Jungkook’s gaze, face, smile, body language, and the tannies’.
Everyone is amazed, more or less. But more than a simple reaction, Jimin’s movements have no other effects on them. They can tell it was beautiful, they react, that’s it.
Jungkook, on the other hand, is involved. Caught. Completely. His scream is not the only 🤨 element here. When he’s done shouting, he looks at Jimin smirking, and to me, he looks like the only one who’s trying to contain his reaction.
It almost looks like he’s trying not to show his thoughts, but I don’t actually want to analyze this moment. Looking at the clip should be enough🫡.
He lays back, pumps his chest, flyes with his mind, and plays it cool with a subtle smile. He’s tripping more than anyone else, basically.
And he even tells him “it’s fatal”. Cuz that’s how HE felt about it🫵🏻.
(If this makes zero sense it’s just the KG JM’s effect)
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What’s 🧍🏻‍♀️… happening 🤸🏻‍♂️… to🧎🏻‍♀️…. me 🐕…?
Anygays. The video you sent me then shows one of my favorite Jikook’s moment at all. Looking at this picture should be enough too😑 (this is basically becoming a Jimin’s appreciation post)
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Now tell me that if you had this picture in your hands you wouldn’t react like this ⬇️ (I’d do worse)
He needs to stop for a second. He has to collect himself. He makes that weird sound, again, with the “it’s fatal” smile on his face (I’m having so much fun), and than shows the picture saying it is extremely sexy.
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You know, one of the things I love the most about Jungkook complimenting Jimin (besides the consistency, the sincerity, the spontaneity and the respectful yet abrupt attitude) is that certain shyness he has when he calls Jimin “sexy” in front of a group of people.
The same happened in 2020, when he said that Jimin looked sexy with make up on.
During that moment, members had to pick who they thought looked the best in the Black Swan concept. Jungkook’s finger AUTOMATICALLY ran towards the sky. He literally couldn’t wait to give his answer (I have proof☝️)
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Look at him😭💀
Namjoon was not even done counting (3,2,1) that JK was already impatient. He raised his right arm, than his left, than his right again, and he looked like a child in class knowing that 4+4 is 8 when the teacher asks. Then, he pointed at Jimin. Immediately, of course. And like that wasn’t enough, he said “for me, it’s Jimin hyung”.
Jimin loves to receive compliments, so he says “everyone, Jungkook picked me. Can we hear why?”.
And here it goes. If we go low, Jungkook goes low low. He says the longest and whiniest “Jimin hyung” of all times, which probably lasted 15 minutes (approximately🙄); he pretends to think about it, he firstly compliments Jimin’s dance skills (which are true and he truly appreciates), he says he looks graceful. Like a graceful black swan.
Now the flirting begins. They’re distant, but they look at each other. Jimin asks: “oh, really?” and Jungkook says “yes”. Jimin’s not satisfied, so he asks “anything more?”, with that, face. WE ALL KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT
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(GO TO JAIL)
Jungkook is embarrassed but daring, he feels exposed but kinda likes it. So he KEEPS TALKING ABOUT JIMIN. He says: “Jimin-ssi…(big ass pause, again), when he doesn’t wear make up he looks… (big ass pause again)…. he looks young”
Did you see that? Jungkook wanted to specify that Jimin looks good in both. Make up and no-make up style. He wanted us and Jimin to know that, for him (and not only😊) Jimin’s bareface looks young and beautiful anyways. But make up, of course, has a job, and knows how to do it. So he adds that:
“But with make up and his hair all styled he looks…(now I don’t know how to put this pause in words, just look at the clip if you’re brave enough🫠)”
Jin: “cute”
Jungkook : (frozen)
Jin: “like a black swan?”
Jungkook: “he looks sexy🙄😑😶‍🌫️”
Man wanted it to look like words came out of his mouth by themselves and he didn’t realize it.
Everyone is silent. Jin is surprised (and a little bit cringed) by that “sexy”, and Jimin was definitely NOT expecting that. He was so confident, staring at Jungkook, but when he heard “sexy” he just moved and said “ah…such high praises”.
He wanted it to look professional but he failed. Just like his boyfriend a few seconds before. Everyone wanted it to look in a way but ended up looking like a flirting college smut fanfic.
Jungkook’s compliment took ages, anon. All of it filled with a lot of hesitation, looking at the members to feel safe and receive their approval about what he’s saying.
What he says is true, all of it. BS Jimin was endaring. So if what Jungkook was saying was real and relatable, why was he so tensed?
Because he knew. He knew he was complimenting his own boyfriend in front of millions of people who were gonna watch it. There’s a big difference, my dears, between calling a friend “sexy” (and the way you feel about it) and calling your boyfriend, “sexy”. The effect it has on you is completely different.
That’s why Jungkook goes around it for a bit, and he even FROWNS like he’s thinking about it🙄
He already knew what to say. He just needed the right and “bro coded” way to put it, unfortunately.
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“I think… a bit….” …
😒
Dude. Stop. Like… what are you talking about…
(Tweet link for this moment).
Going back to the link you sent me, anon, we have JK’s reaction to Jimin’s portfolio.
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This is pure boyfriendism. Jungkook invented it. Not only his reaction to his man dressed in black and thight leather, with the most sharpen jaw line and the biggest BDSM vibe, but also the way he sits next to said man.
Their feet were close, their shoes were touching, but most of all, Jungkook just naturally and casually put his arm behind Jimin’s back. On his chair.
This is not something he did because his arm was hurting. Or his shoulder needed a good stretch. This is a spontaneous and almost… automatic? gesture.
(Got an automatic shine, automatic, automatic mind. Automatic flow…)
Anyways. It happened all of a sudden. And multiple times. Jungkook moves his arms a few times but always ends up putting it there. In Jimin’s personal space.
Look at the original content. These are just screenshots.
This melts my heart🥺🥺🥺
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Again, Jungkook's body language is so telling here. His feet are unconsciously pointing towards the person Jungkook feels the safest and most comfortable with. The person he and his body are attracted to. This works for all types of bonds and relationships, not only romantic. Our bodies are inclined to face in the people's we like/align to the most/ direction.
He moved his arm for a bit.
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But it was a matter of seconds.
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Again...
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And again.
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This is honestly so domestic. Nothing to do with physical attraction, or sexual tension, or hidden moments (such as them trying to touch and hold each other hands without anyone else noticing). This is just... natural. The most pointless and useless act ever: putting your arm aroud your loved one. Why? Just because.
Now I'd like to stay in the feels for a little bit, anon, but your compilation has "Have Mercy" by Chloe as background music so it's not easy at all. That’s why we're back on the thirst traps for a while.
Jungkook reacting to Jimin's Set Me Free Pt.2 is the perfect representation of brain froze in real time.
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He was vibing and nodding but when Jimin showed his chest and abdomen he stopped working. His head moved a few more times becuase he was so focused he was struggling to control anything else. His cervix muscles either. And his eyelids as well, since he was not even blinking...😑
These lives just prove how enchanted and attracted Jungkook is. This relationship can not be perfect, we all know that. It just can't be. But love and attraction are there, have always been, and will always be. Jungkook is devoted. And here we are back to the feels.
Jungkook’s smile and dimples looking at this Jikook moment🥺🥺🥺
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He was cozy and sleepy on that couch holding his knee in the cutest and more in love way possible. He was giggling🥺🥺🥺
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You thought Jungkook was just love and flowers? Well... not only. He can also get pretty jealous. Infact, when Jimin says “why am I so erotic here?" (ugh that man knows), Jungkook gently… slaps him.
He knows he has no power over Jimin, over his pictures, over his words. Possessive obsessive Jeonlous is just a big no for me. He is jealous, he is perilla-leaf attentive, he is careful, always watching Jimin, and he does ask Jin what he's talking about when he suggests to show Jimin naked on live broadcast, but he's also Jimin's n.1 support.
And he'll be the first one to show his damn abs to the world (only if he can look too😛). So this slap here was some sort of "hey, don't remind me that people are gonna see you like that".
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The same goes for the last moment. Jimin showed some good chest on camera and Jungkook noticed that (who wouldn't...)
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He then says "Tell them to pin it!" (the shirt), and Jimin says "It was sewn". So they both laugh and that's it.
Do you see the difference between Hobi’s innocent “oh Jimin! Your chest!”, almost saying that to himself rather than Jimin, and Jungkook’s reaction?
We can't deny Jungkook is jealous. But it's not that toxic and problematic as people used to design him (expecially in those youtube compilations that I literally can't watch). And Jimin's reactions are the proof. He always smiles, laughs, or teases Jungkook for his jealousy. He's okay with it, because he knows him. He might like it a little bit. And, just maybe, because he's jealous as well🙄. Just in a different way.
That's where they work. Jimin won't feel oppressed by Jungkook asking him "where are you going?". He will smirk, lick his lips and ask him "why do you wanna know😛?”.
Thank you for stopping by anon🙏. At the end of the day, these things are not enough to tell if they’re boyfriends or not. I’d never base my opinion just on these things. We need to look at the bigger picture, the big gestures and, paradoxically, at the smallest things as well. At the details. Such as this one💜
https://x.com/stopkookminpls/status/1691453531168133122?s=46
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I guess feels won over Chloe for today🙄
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you don't have to know what to say or what to think on ao3
The first time it happens, it's an honest mistake.
(The times after that are also honest mistakes, but Nico feels like he should've known better.)
He's been working really, really hard to learn American Sign Language. After his three days in the infirmary, after working night after night, talking to Mr. D, struggling to learn how to open up to other people and how to finally be a 15-year-old teenager who tries his best to not let his lifelong trauma get to him too much, Nico di Angelo had become close friends with one Will Solace.
He'd never thought he'd be able to have a friendship with someone like Will. Someone who didn't take shit from anyone—he made sure to make that clear—, but was doting and cared for everyone else, sometimes a little too much. Someone who was as bright as the sun itself, who could light stars in the sky just by smiling, who could coax Nico's fears out of him and make him feel equal, not judged.
Someone who Nico could see himself loving.
Okay, and, woah, that might be a little too far, but was he wrong? He was finally allowing himself to feel hope after The Incident (mental trademark), letting himself have friends and a crush that didn't feel like ripping his insides apart and stir-frying them for dinner. So what if Nico's eyes lingered a little too long on the way Will's hair glowed against the infirmary's emergency lights?
(“Nico, when the siren rings and lights up, you stop everything and you go help!”, Kayla had yelled at him the first time it happened. He only felt death in the air after Will finally started running after the patient.
It was that bad.)
Who could blame him, then, for wanting to learn the language the boy he liked felt more comfortable with? Will had assured him that he did just fine with English, that his Cabin Nine hearing aids worked more than perfectly, but Nico had seen the way he got excited whenever he got to sign with someone. There were a few Deaf demigods around camp and Will knew every single one of them. Sometimes, he would sign while speaking, and it made Nico's Italian self happy because hand gestures! Then it made Nico's gay self happy because Will's hands, oh my gods, and then Nico wanted to learn how to make Will's face light up like that.
So, he learned. He got familiar with the computer in the Big House, watching YouTube videos on the matter, practicing in the mirror, going up to other campers who were signers and fighting social anxiety like his life depended on it. He had nailed most stuff by week three. The power of hyperfixations.
He did it all hiding from Will, of course. It was meant to be a surprise. He would walk up to Will, sign something, and Will would be like, “Nico, I didn't know you signed!”, so Nico would reply, “I learned just for you!”, and they'd hold hands and kiss and skip into the sunset.
A guy can dream, right?
“Hey, Nico!” Will yells out from the infirmary steps. “I'm done with my shift. Wasn't expectin' to see you here.”
Gods, his accent is so cute.
“I just thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing,” says Nico, preparing himself mentally for what comes next. “I have a surprise for you, actually.”
“Oh, you do?” Will gives his side-tooth smile, the one he does when he's excited for something he doesn't want to show excitement over.
Nico takes a deep breath.
“Food-you-want?” He signs, slowly but surely. “Me-hungry.”
Will blinks.
“Do that again.”
A warm feeling bubbles up in Nico's chest. Embarrassment, adoration, nervousness, teenage crush? He doesn't really know. He only knows that Will's cheeks look flushed and his voice is barely above a whisper, a tone Nico doesn't get to hear often, so of course he signs his sentence again. He'd do anything Will asks for.
“Do the last sign again.”
“Hum,” Nico starts, feeling a little off. He signs it again, anyway, placing his hand shaped like a C in front of his torso, following a line from the center of his collarbones down to the middle of his chest, then vice-versa. “It means 'hungry'... Right?”
Will takes a deep breath, face redder than Nico's ever seen.
“It means 'hungry' when you do the movement once,” he explains, carefully, doing the sign. The same handshape and movement Nico did, but just once, from the collarbone to the middle of his chest. “When you do the movement twice… It means something else.”
“What does it mean?”
They stare at each other. Nico's eyes are wide. Will's eyes are so blue. Nico would pay more attention to the blue if he weren't so preoccupied with—
“It means 'horny'. You signed, I'm horny.”
—With running away.
☀️🤟🏻⭐️
The second time it happens, Nico is still embarrassed by the first one.
Maybe it had been his fault to not pay a lot of attention when the online video he was watching went over the five parameters of ASL. But it wasn't entirely his fault the two signs were so similar, right? Will assured him afterwards—after he found Nico and after a few awkward laughs—that it was a very, very common mistake. The signs were really similar, after all. Nothing wrong with admitting that.
Still, Nico couldn't help but feel his face heat up every time he remembered that day. He'd told his crush he was horny. Unwillingly, sure, but it was sort of true! Nico was still accepting what being horny meant, but he knew that, even in the mildest sense of the word, he was horny for Will. Embarrassing, but honest.
So now, they were hanging out in the Hades' cabin, just the two of us and a bunch of DVDs they'd stolen from the Apollo cabin and Chiron's stash in the Big House. A mix of old rom-coms, sci-fi, noir, and historical dramas, limitless options, but they still argued over what to watch.
Nico suggested, finally, Back to the Future. Will adjourned his case.
As Will walks back from the DVD player, having put the disk in there, Nico takes a deep breath.
“You-eat-want-what?” he signs, going over each sign in his head like a mantra. He does not need a repeat of last time. Then, he raises his eyebrows, signing, “Pizza?”
Will goes as red as a tomato in the face.
“N-No, I'm good,” Will stutters, fanning himself like Hazel does when she's shocked. “Not hungry.” 
“You just came back from a 12-hour shift,” Nico deadpans.
“Let's just watch the movie.”
So Nico is taken back to nights at the Lotus Hotel, when they would have movie nights and play Back to the Future in a loop. Marty McFly might have been his first boy crush. Briefly, he imagined Will in a costume like that for Halloween. But, for now, they're doing just fine, thighs close enough to touch, Will's hand nearly making its way to Nico's scalp for some good head scratches, and life is good.
Sooner than Nico would've liked, it's curfew time. The DeLorean is long gone, and Will is rising up to his feet, stretching, his shirt riding up, and Nico sees the sliver of skin, with a little of hair on his navel, and, oh, gods, he shouldn't be seeing this, but Will is really handsome, and—
“Walk me out?” he says, sweet as ever, and Nico can't say no.
“I had a good time,” says Nico, leaning on the door panel. The moonlight makes Will's hearing aids glimmer.
“Me too,” Will replies, smiling. “The infirmary today was as excitin' as a mashed-potato san'which, good Lord.”
His accent got thicker the more tired he got, just like Nico's.
“Good-night,” Nico signs. “Sleep-good, you.”
Will's eyes linger on Nico's hands, then on his face. His expression is unreadable. It seems… fond? Happy? Nico doesn't know. He just knows he wants that big smile.
“By the way, Nico,” Will starts, voice a little serious, “this is how you sign 'pizza'.”
He goes through the motions. It's just fingerspelling, Nico notices. P-i-z-z-a.
Nico furrows his brows. “What did I sign?”
“You signed…” Will takes a deep breath. “You asked me if I wanted to eat, uh, the… The female genitalia.”
Nico slams the door so hard he doesn't know how Will keeps all of his teeth and nose intact.
☀️🤟🏻⭐️
The third time it happens, Nico is just plain tired.
He had been on a week-long trip for his father, working on some old business in Louisiana, fighting the occasional monster that came his way and shadow-traveling out of danger—no longer to an inch of his life because he didn't want to make Will worry about him. His clothes are a mess, his hair is greasy, there's soil built up under his fingernails, he hasn't had an actual meal in days, and he's exhausted to say the least.
After showering, eating, and bed-rotting any leftover worries away, he sleeps for fifteen hours straight. He wakes up still exhausted, though a little less, so he walks up to the infirmary since he has nothing better to do. Might as well get a check-up while he's there.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says to the head of blond hair when he sees it.
“Good afternoon, di Angelo,” Will replies, looking ready to tackle any challenge, bloody or non-human, that comes his way in his combination of scrubs, cargo shorts, and Jesus sandals. “You look like you're near 'bout past goin'.”
Nico doesn't know what he's saying, but shrugs anyway. “I'm tired.” Then, he signs, “Me-tired. Coffee, me-need.”
Will smirks.
“All you had to do was ask, Death Boy,” he replies, amused, and Nico lights up.
“You have coffee?” He doesn't know why Will looks so smug about coffee, in a way he's never looked before, but he lets himself be led to the infirmary kitchen, watches Will drape over the Nespresso machine, churning out a nice cup of pure, slightly-processed espresso.
The smell is enough to make Nico's eyes open a little more.
“Also,” Will says, putting his doughnut down by the table, still smirking for reasons unknown, “the sign for 'coffee' goes like this.”
He demonstrates. Nico barely follows, focused on taking a sip from his coffee.
“You signed, I need to make-out. You've gotta pay more attention, di Angelo, or— oh, my gods, Nico, breathe! You're gonna burn your throat! Nico!”
☀️🤟🏻⭐️ 
Nico is tired of failing.
It's not like he's failed-failed. Will has been more than helpful, willing to show him the ropes and correct his signs, and they've actually spent more time with the other Deaf campers, practicing and practicing. Nico is still fighting the flush that decorates his cheeks whenever he signs with someone else, but he's getting there. Anything for that megawatt Will Solace smile.
So, on the Fourth of July, as they're watching the fireworks, Will takes his hearing aids off, saying the noise makes it hurt. Nico gets a little antsy, but shakes it off, and would rather focus on the way the red, white, and blue from the sky makes Will's freckles change colors, too.
And he looks so good tonight. He ditched his usual medic attire for something still Will, a white tank top, denim shorts, an American flag bandana to keep his curls out of his eyes and flip-flops. Nico dressed similarly, but in a black t-shirt and black shorts, black socks and black sneakers. No bandana; only Will can pull it off.
The tank-top is low cut enough that Nico can see his tattoo peeking out. Gods, he's so beautiful, he thinks to himself, lost in thought he almost misses the way Will is waving his hand in front of Nico's face.
“Hi,” Will signs. “Here, fun.”
Nico nods.
“Confess-me,” Will signs. It's a closed fist by his sternum, opening outwards, like he's pulling something out of his chest. Nico translates it to, I need to tell you something, then nods again. Will takes a deep breath. “Me-like-you. Me-like-like-you.”
Nico's breath is stolen. He doesn't know where it went. He doesn't know what's going on. Off in the distance, someone whoops loudly and a group of campers cheer, but he can only focus on the opaque thump of the fireworks and his own heartbeat increasing pace against his chest. Will is staring at him, blue eyes like the sky, like the bandana, like the prettiest gemstone one could conjure.
“Sign-you-learn. Why? Me. Special-you. Me-like-you, why? You.” When he points at Nico, the final 'you', he does a flourish, like he's honoring Nico. You learned sign for me. You're special. I like you because you're you.
Nico feels words bubbling up in his throat, but doesn't let himself say anything. Instead, he moves his hands like he's practiced so many times in front of the mirror before.
“Me-like-you. Long-how? Long. Favorite-person, you-mine. Date-you, I want.”
I've liked you for a long time. You're my favorite person. I'd like to date you.
With that, he finally gets a megawatt Will Solace smile.
39 notes · View notes
rainbowcrowley · 29 days
Text
15 questions, 15 10 some friends
i got tagged by: @queerbuck and @gentlebeard, thanks lovelies 🥰😘
ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
don't think so, no. my dad picked up my name somewhere on tv or radio..? and he really liked it. i must admit, it's a cool name bc it's unique, but i like my chosen nickname waaaay more. it's also gender neutral so 🤷🏻‍♀️
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
i rarely cry bc of Reasons but the last time was.. about 3 weeks ago, during a mental breakdown yay
DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
nope. also don't want kids. i'm not fit to be a parent.
WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?
not many. i hate exercise lol. did some archery lessons a few years ago - i even got pretty good at it but had to stop, bc it's an expensive hobby. oh and back when i was 15/16 years old i had some horse riding lessons, but that's it.
DO YOU USE SARCASM?
yeah, i think? not as much as i used to, tho.
WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
eyes, hair and smile, i think
WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR?
blue-grey
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
fuck scary movies man. i hate horror. it's not my genre. it's not that i get scared easily... i just think they're boring. gimme all the happy endings pls.
ANY TALENTS?
overthinking (:
(my therapist would scold me for not putting something positive here, too, so... guess i'm a really good cook? it comes easily to me and i really enjoy it. does this count as a talent..?)
WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
(northern) germany. komme aus dem echten norden.
WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?
watching movies/shows/youtube, reading, playing video games, travelling, tech and computers, tumblr/fandom.... guess??
DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?
noo, not at the moment, sadly.
HOW TALL ARE YOU?
1.78m 🧍🏻‍♀️
FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?
school was hell :) but i guess today it would be english, german, physics and history...?
DREAM JOB?
the one i'm doing/learning to do right now. i'm an IT specialist apprentice. :) (the guys you call when the printer doesn't work and who will ask you if you have turned it off and on again ehehe)
no pressure tags: @beccibarnes @underwhelmingalchemist @crowleyraejepsens @crowleyholmes @sherlockig @skinnyscottishbloke @wibbly-wobbly-blog @stedesbonnets and everyone else who wants to do it ✨️
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