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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

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LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 3

THREE - Little Shop Of Horrors

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Bucky vividly remembers being about 10 years old and sitting on the living room floor watching his father assemble a heavy cabinet made from dark, massive wood. It had intricate gold ornaments along the sides and around the edges and even at that young age, he knew that it must’ve been expensive.

He likes thinking back to that memory, mostly because it’s one of the few that he can still tightly hold onto and recount the exact way he’s felt then, and partly because it’s so seemingly insignificant. It’s nice to know that some of the memories he regained after having his mind wiped clean, are tiny unimportant ones. It’s not just the big moments and grand gestures that make life worth living. Sometimes it’s the little things, the small details you look back on and fondly remember with a smile on your face.

Looking at the furniture before him, Bucky can’t imagine what his mother would think of these cabinets. Everything is white or beige or grey and there’s a lot of shiny black fronts and glass doors. The place is huge, so huge they have to tape arrows on the floor so people don’t get lost, and it smells of artificial vanilla and sawdust.

It’s not like he hates the furniture here, it’s just a lot and quite honestly, he’s not sure what really matches his personal style. Hell, he hasn’t had a personal style since before he went to fight in the war.

“ Ooooh, this one is very you! “ (Y/N) exclaims as she lets herself fall onto a fluffy brown 2-seat sofa.

If it wasn’t for her, Bucky wouldn’t be here. Not only because he wants her to come around more often and actually be able to sit on a couch, but also because she was literally the one driving them both here.

“Watcha doin? “

That was the text that started it, and before he knew she had pulled up to his apartment building, arm hanging from her open car window, and yelled “Get in loser, we’re going furniture shopping! “

Bucky assumes that is another movie reference though he doesn’t dare ask her about it.

“Nope, that’s a two-seater. Too small. I want to be able to sleep on it. “

“ Or, and hear me out on this one, you could get a new bed to sleep in. “

He doesn’t have any reply to that. It’s not like he doesn’t want to sleep in his bed, it’s just — it’s too soft. It’s too comfortable. It makes it easy to fall asleep and dream. And it’s never pleasant dreams. It’s nightmares. It’s faces that haunt him. Innocent faces. Eyes filled with terror. Fear. Fear of him. It’s nightmares. It’s memories.

When he doesn’t answer, (Y/N) pulls herself back up from the sofa and wanders on “or we’ll just have to find a bigger couch, that’s fine too. “

And at that moment he’s entirely grateful that she doesn’t push him any further.

They wander around the store for a while longer, slalom in between sofas and recliners, swerve in and out of mock-up rooms, all the while (Y/N) keeps throwing puns at him incorporating the Swedish names of the furniture.

Hanging out with her kind of reminds him of the times he hung out with Steve when both of them were so much younger. Of course, it’s nothing alike. He’s not even close to the person he was then, the boy he was then. The thing is, back then everything was easy and light. Being here with her and listening to her horrible puns, that’s easy too. For right now, he doesn’t even notice the weight that’s constantly resting on his heart or the perpetual shadow that seems to rest above him. This is easy and it feels so nice.

They step into yet another room, this one painted a dark forest green. Against the wall, there’s a dark wooden cabinet holding books and a fake tv and in the middle is a corner sofa made from dark brown leather. It’s big enough to fit both him and (Y/N) and maybe even Lady if she’s okay with cuddling up a little to either of them.

“ I like that one,” Bucky says and lets himself plop down on the couch. It’s comfortable but not too soft. It’s just right. Is this what Goldilocks felt like?

(Y/N) sits down next to him, rests her feet on top of the couch table and for a second it’s just them and the black screen of the fake tv and the intercom system calling out for little Kyle to be picked up at the Småland play area.

“ Honey, “ (Y/N) speaks up after a moment, “ I think the tv is broken? “ her voice ringing through the mock-up in a thick Transatlantic accent, making her sound like the women in the movies he grew up with.

“ Huh. Ain’t that something ?”

“ Well didn’t you fix it like I told you? “

“ Guess I must’ve forgotten,” Bucky plays along, trying to suppress the smirk pulling the corner of his lips upwards.

“ Ugh, remind me again why I married you? “

Bucky shrugs his shoulders casually “ my good looks? “

“ Oh, don’t flatter yourself. It’s very unbecoming. Good thing is — “ she announces as jumps up, pulling Bucky up with her and right over into the next mock-up living room. “ We have another tv.”

As Kyle’s parents are called out again, (Y/N) and Bucky tumble from one room into the next. From kitchen to bathroom to fake little balcony. All setting the stage for another chapter from their made-up marriage. Scenes from a movie never made, a book never written. A beautiful kaleidoscope of could-be and never-was. A nice fantasy to get lost in.

If this was a rom-com, (Y/N) thinks, this would be the falling in love montage. Some killer indie track would play in the background and it would be featured in at least one Buzzfeed article about romantic gestures.

But it’s not a movie, it’s real life and she isn’t the romantic lead and Bucky is — well he would make a great leading man now that she thinks about it.

They make their way back to the green living room with the brown couch and the ‘broken’ tv and fall back against the leather, laughter shaking their bodies, tears of joy stinging at the corners of their eyes. As she catches her breath, (Y/N) taps Bucky softly on the right shoulder and drops her voice to a whisper.

“Honey,” she says “I don’t know how to tell you this but uh — there’s a family on our balcony.”

Bucky’s eyes follow her outstretched hand and sure enough on the adjacent fake balcony is a family of 4 staring back at them. And just like that, they fall back into a beautiful harmony of laughter.

“So explain to me again what this movie is about?” Bucky asks as (Y/N) takes another sip from her coke can.

“Dude buys a plant, it starts eating people.”

“And this is gonna show me what women want these days?”

A joyful chuckle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. “I mean … there is a love story and a moral about how far you’re willing to go for the people you love even if it might be morally questionable, but maybe — maybe we should consider this one the Halloween special.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulder as if to say “okay fine with me” and leans back against the car seat. The massive screen of the drive-in is currently playing some kind of ice cream commercial that has (Y/N) softly humming along to the jingle.

This trip wasn’t planned, in fact, they’d been on their way back home when a billboard at the side of the road caught (Y/N)’s attention and put a huge grin on her face, so wide it could’ve split her face in two.

That’s how he ended up parked neatly in a row of cars, Coca-Cola in hand, popcorn resting in between him and (Y/N) waiting for the commercials to end and the movie to begin.

“You’re gonna love this one,” she’s told him beforehand. He’s a little skeptical about it but he’s not gonna tell her. Bucky is just so appreciative of the fact that she bothers trying to introduce him to these things. They might not end up being for him but it’s a good feeling to have someone care this much. Someone who hasn’t been with him through all the shit. Someone who doesn’t feel responsible because they pity him. Someone who doesn’t owe it to Steve to look after Bucky…

“So … I still have some homework to do.” He chimes in thinking back to their conversation on his living room floor.

“Homework that involves me?”

“Mmh. Doc thinks I should learn some more things about you. Apparently, it’s not enough to know that you’re crazy about movies and talk a lot.”

“I do talk a lot.” (Y/N) agrees and pops a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you. What you want to know?”

“Anything.”

Since coming back from oblivion, Bucky hasn’t really made an effort to get to know anyone. Growing closer to people only means there’s more for you to lose. More people you can potentially hurt. He doesn’t usually learn new things about people because he doesn’t ask. Because he doesn’t want to know. It’s a lonely life but it’s safe. It’s comfortable.

But this is different. He’s in too deep now to stop. And yeah, maybe this is his homework. Maybe he asks because his therapist told him too but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He wants to know about (Y/N). Even the little things. The insignificant details.

“Well as I said before, I’ve studied literature and creative writing. I want to be an author. That’s uh — that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. The thing is it’s very hard to actually get people to give your writing a chance. Especially now. The world is in such a weird limbo after everyone came back. There’s no room for my art right now. So I work as a waitress to make ends meet. “

“What would you write about?” Bucky asks and in her eyes, in the surprise that’s so clearly written on her face, he can see that people don’t ask her that all too often.

“I don’t know, life? “

“Love stories?”

She lets out a mix between a scoff and a snort “what do I know about romance? I can tell you all about the love the movies and the songs and the books want to sell us, and don’t get me wrong, I love that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced true and honest romantic love. So how could I ever write about it ?”

For a moment silence falls upon them. It’s neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. Sometimes that’s enough.

“Look, I might not know a lot about love either, but I do know that dreams are worth holding on to, no matter how out of reach they seem. If it’s something you believe in and that you’re passionate about, it’s worth fighting for it.”

“Huh, didn’t put you for such a motivational speaker. Where’ve you got that from”

“Didn’t think the skinny boy from Brooklyn was ever gonna save a whole bunch of lives and fight in a war. Steve was the walking proof that you can do anything. “

“You miss him, huh?”

People don’t usually ask about Steve. They either don’t care how Bucky feels about the whole situation or they know it’s a tough topic and avoid it altogether. The worst part is he doesn’t even know how to respond. Yes of course he misses Steve, more than anything really, but there’s also a little bit of resentment swinging along. With Steve here by his side, it always felt like there was someone there who understood exactly what Bucky was going through. Someone who also had to figure out how to navigate this new life. But now with Steve gone, he feels so utterly alone.

“Every day.”

“Look I’m not going to ask what happened because quite honestly I’m still trying to grasp the fact that there are aliens and superheroes and wizards — “

“Wizards are not a thing.”

“You sure?”

Bucky lets out a slightly annoyed sigh “Yup. 100%”

“What’s the Strange guy?”

“Sorcerer.”

“That’s not the same?”

“No.”

(Y/N) considers for a moment, eyes screwed up in uncertainty before she shrugs her shoulder “ alright if you say so. Anyway, my point is, I don’t know if you have that many people to talk to and I don’t know if you even want to talk about Steve but if you do … well you can talk to me. I know I talk a lot but I’m also a really good listener. “

There’s no doubt in his mind that she is. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to talk about Steve yet though. Not when his heart is still at war whether or not to be angry. Not when he’s still so uncertain about his own complicated emotions.

“Thanks, I uh — I appreciate it.”

Loud music starts to play and (Y/N)’s head snaps towards the screen just in time for the title card to pop up in big colorful letters as three women shimmy across the street and start singing.

Bucky can’t help but let his gaze travel back towards (Y/N) every once in a while. There’s something about her he can’t quite figure out, but the way her eyes light up as she watches the movie and the smile on her face, it gives him a warm feeling. Like bad things don’t exist for the 90 minutes they sit together and watch a film.

“Sooooo?” (Y/N) asks as she parks the car in front of Bucky’s place. Her eyes still hold a sparkle that’s both mischievous and excited.

“I actually liked this one a little.”

“A little?”

“Look it’s not gonna be my favorite movie but I had fun. But uh — maybe that’s just because I’ve watched it with you.”

(Y/N) grants him a beautiful smile. It’s full of warmth and care and honesty. And he’s glad he told her, even if it makes him vulnerable.

“You telling me I’m a good friend?”

“Guess so.”

“Well, you’re a good friend too, Bucky.”

He hopes she’s right though he has a hard time believing it. He’s never seen himself as the greatest friend. Everything he did for Steve he did because he knew Steve would do the same. It came so naturally from both of them that it never felt like he was doing anything special or exceptional. It was as easy as breathing.

“Do you wanna come up? We could order some food.”

“Oh, I can’t. Gotta pick up Lady from Robin’s place. But as soon as your couch is delivered count me in as the first sleepover guest. “

“Will do. Hey, you think I should name the plant we bought (Y/N) 2?”

“Depends, you wanna feed the neighborhood Dentist to it”

“Maybe.”

They fall into another fit of laughter and even though it’s not that funny, and even though it’s really dumb and silly actually, Bucky enjoys it so much. He can’t remember a day when he laughed this much, felt this light.

“Oh, by the way, I’m throwing a pre-Halloween-party next weekend. If you’re free you should totally drop by.”

“I um — A friend is coming around that weekend.”

“Then bring your friend! The more the merrier, right ?”

Sam is gonna be down, there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind about it. Sam isn't the problem, he never is. It’s Bucky. Going to a party is terrifying for someone who’s never known anything but the 1940s. This can only end up in disasters.

And yet …

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

“Cool. Awesome. Just uh — Just text me when you know. Also, there’s no special theme so you can dress up as whatever.”

“I’m not dressing up.”

(Y/N) blows a raspberry against her arm “lame! But whatever, you do you.”

He guesses that means as much as “suit yourself”.

They bid each other goodbye with a hug and a promise from (Y/N) to Bucky to text him once she’s home just so he knows she’s safe.

To her, that’s a gesture so sweet and endearing it sends a jolt through her heart. To him, it’s as natural as breathing. You do what you can to keep those safe that you care about, even if it’s just a simple little text.

“You dressed up!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Man, You’re wearing a costume. I’m looking at you right now. I can see it. You dressed up.”

“These are just my clothes.”

“These are just your clothes? Your normal clothes?”

“Yes.”

“You’re wearing Converse now?”

“ mmh.”

“Your Jeans are cuffed, man. I’ve never seen you cuff your jeans.”

“It’s something I do now.”

Bucky isn’t a very religious person. He doesn’t pray very often. At that moment though, he prays to god and every higher spirit one might choose to believe in, to open up the earth and let it swallow him whole.

“Look,” Sam says and gives Bucks a friendly pat on the back “you don’t gotta be embarrassed by it. I dressed up!”

“Yeah, what even are you, by the way? An exterminator?”

“I — what? No! I’m a ghostbuster.”

“Okay. Whatever that is.”

“Whatev— Bucky, Man you really gotta go with the times a little. I know you’re practically ancient but the Ghostbusters? Catch up!”

“Whatever. I'm not dressing up. Can we go?” Bucky sighs in exasperation, making Sam’s grin grow even bigger. Bucky knows that he’s just playing into his game, that Sam loves riling him up. That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to not let it get to him.

“Alright alright. Hold your horses. I’m ready. Let’s go … Danny Zuko.”

Bucky wants to punch him then but Sam is out the door faster than Bucky can even react, his loud laughter sounding through the hallway.

There are people everywhere. Sitting on the kitchen counter, lounging on the couches, leaning against the wall by the open windows. Everywhere. The apartment is small and with so many people inside, it looks absolutely packed. Like sardines in a tin.

Music echos through the place, a song Bucky faintly recognizes from the radio but can’t name. Sam seems to enjoy it though, his body already swaying along to the tune.

“Hey Buck, where’s your girl?” He asks as both of them let their eyes travel across the room and over the crowd.

“She’s not my girl and I don’t —“

In the middle of the room is a fish tank. It separates the living room area from the dining room and kitchen. Blue and green hues radiate from it as colorful fish circle around and swerve in and out of the plants.

But Bucky hardly noticedsthe fish, as his eyes fall onto the girl at the other side of the tank. The water sends a blue shimmer across her skin but her smile doesn’t lose any of the warmth it always holds. She looks beautiful. She always does but there’s something about her tonight that’s different from all the times he’s seen her before. Something ethereal.

At that moment, Bucky feels a fluttery feeling in his heart, in his bones, in his blood. He knows this feeling, has felt it before, a long time ago. Maybe, he thinks, maybe there could be more than friendship there.

And that thought absolutely terrifies him. Because falling for someone makes you foolish and dumb and vulnerable. And that’s awfully scary.

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@zaynzierulez // @je-like-you // @dracoxxyoflam // @jackiehollanderr // @majo240820 // @kay-gilles // @booksb4looksstuff // @jckie94 // @charmed-asylum // @shawnie--jo // @yllwtaxi //

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #winter soldier x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier imagine #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #james barnes x reader #james barnes x female reader #he has too many names this must be enough

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ladykatie512 · 2 years

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where i’ve been

hey, it’s been a long while, huh? okay so, i realize i dropped off the face of the earth, and i’m sorry for the radio silence for the past three and a half months (holy shit). i won’t give you every excuse on the planet for what happened, but the good news is i did move. i love my new place, and i also have my appetite back, and i’m back on a semi-normal sleep schedule. like, brains are crazy. all i did was move, and my brain was trying to convince me the world was ending, and it literally just quit on me for a few weeks.

another problem i ran into that’s not biological is that my laptop randomly decided capital letters weren’t a thing anymore. so caps lock works, right? but the shift keys? nope, nothing. i’ve scoured google trying to figure out fixes, but i just want a new laptop at this point.

uh, more good news is i’m still writing. i’m using google docs and my work laptop, only i’m not writing for nacho or vaas. i know, i suck. it’s not like i planned to lose my hyper fixation on michael mando characters so suddenly. it just sort of happened, okay? i mean, i’m a sad bitch, and then douche-bag brain cancer rockerboy keanu was all, “hey, i still exist,” and… yeah. in my mental turmoil, i sort of plotted out and started writing a modern au silverv fic. but i promise, i fucking promise you, that i forever intend to finish and saints, hard to be a god, and a saint in sinner’s eyes. jade is my baby, and alli is too, even though i may or may not have some screwed up, horrible shit planned for one or both of them.

since i know it’s been ages, i have the first scene to and saints chapter 39 below the cut. nothing too exciting happens, but i figure it’s better than nothing? i don’t have anything for asise on my google docs, but i’ll see what i can do about getting a teaser up for chapter 10.

TL;DR: i’m a sad bitch, my brain broke, my laptop died, i moved, johnny silverhand has a vice-grip on my heart, have a sneak peek at chapter 39 for and saints.

Problem Kids

Jade woke early the following morning to the sound of quiet arguing, crying, and a ringing phone. Below her, she heard Nacho sigh, and she groggily lifted her cheek off his stomach to look around the room she found herself in. It took a moment to remember that they’d stayed over at Domingo’s apartment the previous night.

“If you don’t answer whoever is blowing up your phone and tell them to back off, I will,” she heard Nacho’s sleep-addled voice, and she turned to look at where he’d laid perpendicular to her on Domingo’s couch.

“I’m sorry,” she yawned before laying back down. Her cell phone was ringing on the coffee table in front of her, and Jade reached out for it before reading the screen. “Incoming call from: Pinkman” was displayed for a brief second before the call was sent to her voicemail, and the text on the screen stated “4 Missed Calls.”

Jade didn’t have time to contemplate if she should call Jesse back before he was already calling her again. The quick succession of phone calls along with the “4 Missed Calls” message had her gut-twisting, but she still flipped her phone open and answered with a sleepy, “What?”

“Have you seen Tammy?” Jesse’s voice cut through their call loudly, and in response, Jade briefly pulled her phone away from her ear.

“Tammy? Dude, what?” Jade asked again before she glanced over at the closed bedroom door where her friends were sleeping.

“Tell me where Tammy is,” Jesse insisted. “She’s not answering her phone. Have you talked to her at all?”

“Jesse, she’s—” Jade paused before realizing she should cover for her best friend. “Jesse, it’s not even six in the morning. What the actual fuck?”

“This is fucking important, Jade! Do you know where she is?”

“I don’t know! I’m not her fucking keeper, Jesse!”

Below her, she felt Nacho pull himself into a sitting position, forcing her to sit up as well. Jade met his eyes only to see his tiredness replaced with an odd combination of

concern and irritation.

“Did you tell her?”

“Did I tell her what?” Jade asked back in exasperation and broke eye contact with Nacho to rub at her face.

“About me! About everything!”

“You mean about your secret meth habit and why you’re constantly disappearing?”

“What did you tell her?”

“I haven’t told her anything!”

“Then why isn’t she answering any of my calls?”

“I dunno? Maybe because she has a brain and can figure out that you’re probably doing shady shit behind her back whenever you disappear like now—”

The phone was plucked out of Jade’s grasp, and she turned to face Nacho again, worried he was about to tell Jesse off. Instead, she watched him snap the back cover off her phone before taking out the battery.

“Uh,” she took a deep breath, “Sorry. Thanks for not breaking it this time.”

She watched him toss the pieces of her cellphone to the other end of the couch. “What was that?” he asked her, and at first, Jade thought he would settle for a yawn and a head shake. “Jade?” he pressed, and she sighed.

“Nothing. It’s just the fuckin’ guys being stupid,” she shrugged.

“They’re trying to guilt-trip you into covering for them?” Nacho pointed at her phone.

“Nacho, I don’t—” Jade yawned again before moving to sit next to Nacho on the couch with her feet on the ground and head on his shoulder. “It’s too early for everything. I got, like, an hour of sleep.” Next to her, Nacho sighed, and she figured he would drop the subject for her. “Can we just go back to sleep?” she asked him.

“You can sleep through that?” he asked, and Jade was confused for a second before she realized she could still hear crying.

“Fuck,” she sighed. As good friend mode kicked in again, she forced herself off the couch. The bathroom light was on, and the door was closed, but Jade could hear Lena trying to “quietly” argue with who she could only assume was Taylor. Jade could hear the crying from Domingo’s bedroom, but there wasn’t light coming from under the closed door.

“Hey?” Jade leaned tiredly against it and knocked twice. It took a moment before the bedroom door opened, and Jade had to catch herself from falling into the room. Tammy stood on the other side, her short pigtails slightly mussed from sleep and a deep-set frown on her face. She didn’t say anything, and Jade looked from her to April, who was sitting on the bed quietly crying and arguing into her cell phone. Jade could still hear Lena from the bathroom every few seconds with an outburst of not so quiet crying and arguing.

“Jesse called me,” Jade looked back at Tammy and saw her brown eyes roll heavily in their sockets.

“Figures,” she sighed and looked over at April herself.

“I told him I didn’t know where you were,” Jade added.

“You coulda told him,” Tammy shrugged. She looked about as tired as Jade felt, and she wondered if Tammy had gotten any sleep either.

“He didn’t have a chance to convince me before Nacho took the battery out of my phone,” Jade explained, and Tammy snorted.

“Whatever. I don’t wanna talk to him. I’ll just end up like them,” she nodded towards April on the bed.

“What’s going on?” Jade asked next.

“I guess one of the idiots finally checked their phones,” Tammy shrugged. “From the sounds of it,” she then pointed at the bathroom, “they aren’t even in town.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jade sighed this time and crossed her arms.

“Nope. No idea where they are yet. April’s tried asking, but it doesn’t sound like Corey will answer.”

Behind herself, Jade heard the other bedroom door open, and both she and Tammy looked over to see Domingo emerging. His face was scrunched, and only one of his eyes was squinting, straining to stay open. Silently he looked between Jade and Tammy and then at the bathroom. He then held a thumbs-up in a silent question, which Jade and Tammy both returned. He gave a nod before contagiously yawning and peeking around the corner at where Nacho had remained on the couch. He gave Nacho the same thumbs-up gesture, but Nacho answered him verbally in soft Spanish.

“Ellas novios finalmente se dieron cuenta de lo sucedido.”

“Oh,” was all Domingo responded with before Lena burst out of the bathroom.

“God, I fucking hate men! I hate them!” Lena emphasized as she spotted Jade and Tammy first. “Why the hell am I straight? Why did I not become a lesbian? I fucking hate men!” She’d only realized that Domingo was standing in the threshold to the living room a second or two after her rant. “Oh, not you guys. Sorry,” she added, trying to sound less upset.

“You’re good,” Domingo nodded at her, and Lena took that as her cue to turn back to Tammy and Jade.

“Guess where they fucking are.”

“Taylor told you?” Tammy raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“It took fifteen minutes, all of my phone’s minutes,” Lena added and shook her phone in the air towards Jade and Tammy. “He said they’re in Vegas.”

“No way,” Jade’s jaw dropped.

“You’re kidding me. They’re in Vegas?” Tammy had a similar reaction, only with more fury.

“You guys are in Vegas?” Jade heard April’s voice raise from inside Domingo’s bedroom. “What do you mean not anymore?”

“They’re in goddamn Vegas! Don’t let Corey bullshit you, April!” Lena pushed past Tammy into Domingo’s bedroom, where April was still sitting cross-legged on the mattress.

“Why the fuck were you in Las Vegas?” April pressed, no longer crying. It was the first time Jade had ever seen her anything this close to angry. “But you’re coming back, right?”

“They better be coming back,” Tammy huffed before looking at Jade again. “Can you believe this? I mean— What the fuck were they thinking? Did they plan this? Were they always going to Las Vegas?”

“I don’t know, Tams,” Jade sighed.

“I don’t know if that makes it worse or not, them taking an impromptu trip without saying anything. Fuckin’ morons,” Lena complained.

“Fine. Okay. Yeah, I love you too. Bye,” April sighed before looking over at Jade, Lena, and Tammy. “They stopped for gas and food in a town named Winslow? I don’t even know where that is.”

“So, wait, they left Las Vegas and waited until now to check their damn phones?” Lena questioned April’s explanation.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, and Lena looked at Tammy and then Jade.

“Sounds like bullshit, right? Where the fuck is Winslow? Is that in Nevada?”

“Arizona,” Jade and the girls heard Nacho call from the couch in Domingo’s living room.

Jade turned around from where she was leaning in the doorway so she could see Nacho and Domingo sitting sleepily on the couch.

“Arizona?” she asked.

“It’s between here and Vegas. About four hours away,” Nacho explained.

“They’re four hours away,” Jade looked back at her friends in Domingo’s bedroom, even though they’d probably heard Nacho’s clarification.

“I guess that makes sense,” Lena walked further into Domingo’s bedroom and sat next to April on the edge of the bed. “Seriously, are older men worth it?” Lena then asked Jade, and she had to fight not to smile at her friend.

“Jeez, really?” Tammy sighed, not sounding as amused as Jade suddenly felt.

“I’m serious! Nacho seems chill as fuck. Domingo seems chill as fuck. It’s ‘cause they’re older, huh?”

“Nacho’s not chill. He’s just shy,” Jade disagreed, and Lena laughed openly at her.

“Oh, yeah, right. Nacho’s shy after turning that million-dollar flex around on you like he did last night?” Lena asked, and even April smiled over at Jade. Tammy, on the other hand, huffed.

“We still need to talk about that.”

“What are you gonna say, Tams? That drugs are bad and that the cartel is worse?” Jade crossed her arms.

“Uh, yeah, actually. ‘Cause, maybe you shouldn't be dating someone in the goddamn cartel? Like, how does that even happen?”

“Can we not right now? It’s, like, six in the morning,” Jade sighed and Tammy, thankfully, kept her mouth shut.

“Jade’s right. It’s too early for all of this,” Lena sighed and pressed at her eyes. “I can tell the guys are still tired, and Jade looks ready to fall over. We should wait to do this later. The fuckin’ guys should have waited to do this later.”

#michael mando #nacho varga #vaas montenegro #better call saul #far cry 3 #fanfic #ao3 #nacho/OC #nachosverde #and saints #text post

17 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

09 | gangsta; sweetpea

Notes:

SO.. I uhh... Got super into writing this recently. I just really liked where it was heading after part 7. Yes. Yes, I realize that literally no one asked for more of this but.. I wrote it. Might as well share it.

I warn in advance. There as a graphic and detailed fight in this chapter. Also. There is a LOT going on in this chapter. A LOT.

This is the second of four parts I have already written and waiting to go. I know, I know.. Literally no one asked for this. But you’re getting it anyway.

Warnings:

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

NINE.

“What do you mean Hiram asked you to go cut their chains? Archie, this is not your place. They’re trying to fight back against this bullshit. Because that’s what this is, in case you’re wondering.”

“You need to make other friends. Literally anyone but them, Al.” Archie answered calmly. I glared at my brother from across the dining table. My father surprised me when he spoke up.

“You’re still friends with Jughead, right? How is that any different than your sister, being friends with Toni? Or that Fogarty kid? Or the other one, the moody one.. What’s his name?” my dad asked.

“Sweet Pea?” I questioned, taking a few more bites of my cereal. Grumbling about Hiram Lodge as I did so.

“He’s trying to help this town.” Archie muttered.

“What he’s doing is making people homeless. I bet you wouldn’t say that crap if he were trying to run anybody on this side of town out, Archie.” I snapped, pushing my chair away from the table, standing abruptly.

“Okay you two.” my father warned, glancing from me to my brother. Adding quietly, “Your sister has a point. That’s exactly why I’m going to talk to Hermione today about terminating the contract to build the housing.”

“Dad, you needed that contract.” I protested. Going quiet.

“I don’t need it bad enough to watch people gettin run out of their homes, tiny. I can find other jobs.”

“Dad..” I started, but he shook his head. Judging by the way his jaw was set, he’d made his mind up on this. I sighed, going quiet. Assuming that it was probably my fault he even made the decision that might just cost him the construction company in the first place. I think he could tell I was worried, because he caught me on my way out the door for school after Archie had stormed out, bolt cutters in hand to go and do Hiram’s bidding.

“I chose to do this on my own, okay? I just want to make sure you know that, Al.” my dad searched my face, waiting on me to give confirmation that I understood. I wasn’t entirely sure it was true, because for the past twelve hours, the fight had been ongoing between my brother and I.

“Actually, it was your mom who kind of reminded me what getting mixed up with the Lodges might bring on me. Has nothing to do with you and your brother fighting. But I wish you two would sit down and talk.”

I nodded, sighing. “I wish I knew he’d listen. But he’s changed so much since he started taking up with Hiram…” I shook my head. For the first time ever, I was actually kind of disappointed with my big brother.

If he weren’t under Hiram’s thumb right now, I have no doubt in my mind he’d either be helping Jughead with their protest, or he’d be doing everything he could to call attention to the issue.

“I know. Happens sometimes, tiny. All we can do is hope this whole thing is a phase and it doesn’t backfire on him. Be there for him when it does backfire.” my dad advised, pulling me into a hug.

As I went to step out, my dad tossed a brown bag towards me and I caught it. He smiled and shrugged. “Pretty sure when your friends get to school today, they’re gonna be starving. FP said they hadn’t eaten since 8 last night. This was some kinda hunger strike. Tell Fangs to share the bacon. I know he’s a growing guy, but shit.”

I laughed and smiled, doubling back to hug my dad. Really giving him a good squeeze.

“I love you too, kid. Now you need to get going.” my dad laughed when the hug broke, walking to the door and leaning in it, watching me til I got to the end of the street.

I spotted Cheryl waiting at our usual spot as of late and I made my way over. Opening the bag and letting her take out a biscuit. “Dad sent food for the others. That is, if Hiram doesn’t insist that my brother, idiot he is, escort them all straight to the police station.”

“Has your mother gotten back to you at all on the legality of what Ms.McCoy did before she stepped down as mayor?” Cheryl asked. I shook my head. Watching the sidewalk from the direction that Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea normally came from intently.

“Where are they?”

“Toni texted me a few minutes ago. They’ll be here.”

“So Hiram didn’t make my brother and the other guys on the wrestling team take them to the station? Because if he thinks for a second I won’t dig into my college fund to post bail, my brother’s a bigger idiot than I ever imagined. Because I will.”

Cheryl was smiling at me. Giving a soft laugh as she bit into the biscuit she’d taken from the bag in my hands. “ Take deep breaths, lioness.”

I took a deep breath, deadpanning at Cheryl, “Happy?”

“It will suffice.” Cheryl’s grin broadened when she caught sight of Toni.

I let out a ragged breath when I saw our friends heading our way, fuming in anger. Sweet Pea seemed to be the angriest, arguing loudly with Jughead and Fangs about how they should’ve just let him go and not held him back or tried to stop some fight.

Toni, Fangs and Sweet Pea came to a stop in front of Cheryl and I. I held out the bag to Toni and she grabbed it, not wasting a single second. Grabbing a biscuit and groaning as she practically inhaled it. Then grabbing a few strips of bacon. “Oh my god, I love your dad too.”

“There’s enough in there for everyone. Fangs, he said you had to share the bacon, man.” I laughed at the way this made Fangs pout a little.

I stopped in front of Sweet Pea who was still angry, almost shaking at this point. I grimaced at the bruise forming on his jaw. Stepping a little closer. “Are you going to eat, Hulk, or nah?” I teased, shaking the bag at him.

“I’m too fuckin pissed right now, Cherry.” Sweet Pea answered, a harsh tone. His jaw setting.

“Oh.” I muttered. I realized just how close I was standing to Sweet Pea and suddenly aware of that, I stepped away a little and let Fangs take the bag because I was tired of holding it. As we started to walk to school, I found myself walking right next to Sweet Pea all over again when Kevin Keller caught up to us and chose to walk next to Fangs, putting me in between Sweet Pea and Fangs by the time we’d all sort of formed a line.

“Kevin, don’t you own a car?” I teased gently, giving him a knowing smirk. I’d kind of picked up on the fact that he might or might not have himself a little crush on Fangs.

“It’s broken right now.” Kevin answered my question, nodding towards Sweet Pea covertly as he smirked at me. I bit my lip, glancing over at Sweet Pea as I shook my head. Because I knew what Kevin was about to assume and I knew that at best, Sweet Pea only tolerates me because of Fangs and Toni.

“Dad’s supposed to take me out to let me try getting used to driving his truck this weekend.”

“I’ll be sure to let my dad know so he’s on standby.” Kevin taunted, making me stick out my tongue at him. “I’m not that bad.”

“I’d like to agree, but I have Snapchat, so I know about your driving. I saw the go-kart thing. I had no idea you could make a go kart drift, if we’re being honest. You drive like a lunatic, woman.” Kevin taunted. I pouted at him, folding my arms. “I do not! I just wanted to win.” I pretended to be annoyed, holding my hand up at him.

Sweet Pea’s hand brushed against my other hand and I glanced down. Curling my pinkie around his. Giving it a squeeze. I didn’t dare to look up at him as I did this, of course. When he didn’t pull away, I didn’t either.

He was upset. I considered him a friend. I tried to tell myself that my hopes in doing what I was doing were to calm him down. Nothing more.

But deep down, I was starting to realize that this might not exactly be the case. That maybe I felt things…

Things I knew he’d never feel in return.

Things I knew I needed to get over.

XXX

He bit his lip when he felt her finger curl around his. A glance over at her revealed that she wasn’t even looking at him, instead, she was buried in something Kevin was showing her on his phone. He’d almost swear that she didn’t even realize she’d grabbed hold of his finger again, but then, she gave it a little squeeze a few seconds after she glanced up from Kevin’s phone.

She still hadn’t looked at him. Or let go of his finger.

Every part of him knew he should let go but he didn’t want to. And he kept telling himself that more than likely, it wasn’t anything more than just her, trying to be a friend because he was madder than hell and it was obvious.

Oh but he wanted it to be so much more than that.

Their sides brushed again and his breath caught in his throat a little.

Fangs had a good point the night before when they’d been talking. It was getting harder and harder to hide the way he felt.

The fight he’d gotten into with Alyssa’s brother came back to him and he used Archie’s words as a reminder as to why he needed to forget the way he felt.

Because Archie did have a fair point when he pointed out that Sweet Pea wasn’t good enough for her and sooner or later, Alyssa spending so much time around them was going to get her in serious trouble or worse yet, hurt somehow.

But then what Fangs and Jughead both insisted the night before came back to him too and their advice made him want to fight. To act on the way he felt. To prove her brother wrong. To be with her. Be the guy who made her laugh. The guy she cuddled up with on a rainy Saturday to watch her horror movies. The one she came to when she was hurt or scared or just needed him.

They were making their way across the parking lot and she still hadn’t let go of his finger. To be fair, he hadn’t let go of hers yet, either. The connection was keeping him calm. Giving him other things to think about beyond the way he wanted to lose his entire mind over the fact that he was losing everything and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He felt powerless. He hated the feeling.

But the way she linked her finger through his and left it there gave him something else to focus on for a change.

And now, thanks to it, all he could think about was just how hard it was getting to keep his feelings himself.

“Alyssa?”

“Yeah, Kev?”

“Are you going out for the play? Come on, you have to.” Kevin pleaded.

Alyssa mulled it over, shrugging. About to shake her head before Kevin frowned. “You have to.”

“I’m not good at the whole getting up in front of people crap. We’re lucky I can manage cheering at the games without freaking out, Kev. Or have you forgotten the fairy debacle from Kindergarten?”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Kevin was giving her the pleading face.

“Kevin. I left the stage and ran to my dad. In front of the entire school.” she shook her head, laughing. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Besides, me singing? The sound of cats dying. I am not going to put people through that.”

“Oh come on.”

“Nope. Not happening, man.” she shook her head, smiling.

“Toni and I are thinking about it.” Cheryl spoke up.

Toni raised a brow, laughing as she nodded. “Thinking is the key word here, babe.”

Sweet Pea took a deep breath. Willing himself to either let go of her finger first or push things a little further. Maybe grab hold of her hand. Or brush his hand against her hand. He grumbled in frustration when he couldn’t make himself do either thing.

After a second or two, he managed to find a way to graze his hand against her hand and make it seem as if it were an accident. To his surprise, before he could pull his hand away, she’d linked her fingers between his.

She glanced up at him for a second or two, licking her lips. Giving his hand a little squeeze. They were almost to the doors of Riverdale High by this point. He figured she’d let go of his hand, but she hadn’t yet.

Everyone else split off, going to their own classrooms. He let go of her hand to push open the door, letting her step into the room as he held it open, letting it close behind him. As they took their assigned seats, she sank down in her chair, digging around in the pocket of her jeans.

Holding out a pack of chewing gum to him. Sweet Pea took a stick of the gum, unwrapping it. Popping it into his mouth.

After opening the text books, their teacher spoke up, addressing the class.

“We’ll be doing a bit of a different assignment. We’ve been studying genetics and I feel that it would be interesting to give this a try. You’ll be given dice.”

Sweet Pea chuckled when one of the other Serpents in class with them muttered an audible, “Finally, somethin I fuckin know about.”

Mr. Keaton glared at the other Serpent, silencing him. And then Mr. Keaton continued. “You will then roll these dice to determine what physical traits that offspring between yourself and your lab partner would inherit. You will chart the results and write a detailed summary. If you choose, for extra credit, you may draw this offspring.”

Sweet Pea coughed, shifting around in his seat awkwardly. Because all this entire project brought to mind for him was a mental replay of a particularly dirty dream he’d had about Alyssa not too long ago. The silent acknowledgement that he felt this magnetic pull to her and the harder he fought it lately, the more it refused to stay buried. The way it felt when her finger curled around his or the way it felt when he’d taken hold of her hand on their walk to school.

Every single touch, accidental or otherwise as of late.

Alyssa fidgeted a little herself, he noticed. He found himself wondering if she was fidgeting because she was suddenly regretting being paired with him for the term, or if she was fidgeting for the same reason he’d been fidgeting.

,, There’s absolutely no way she’s into me.” his mind taunted.

Mr. Keaton passed out dice and once they’d gotten their dice and the list of physical traits that Mr. Keaton compiled they’d be rolling for, Sweet Pea cleared his throat.

“Wishing you’d made a fuss about now, hm? Gotten switched to work with no brains over there?” he said it only half jokingly.

“Why? Are you?” Alyssa asked, gazing over at him, a brow raised. Laughing softly. “It’s just an assignment, Sweet Pea. And you’re not like.. You’re not a leper or something. I mean, I could do a lot worse.”

“If you’re fine with it, what the hell.” Sweet Pea shrugged, chuckling to himself quietly. Trying to fight back the sliver of hope that chose that exact moment to rise to the surface. The fact that she wasn’t switching, while surprising, didn’t necessarily mean anything. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

From the back of the classroom, Reggie spoke up. “Mr. Keaton, I’ve been thinkin… Maybe I should switch partners with Sweet Pea.”

Sweet Pea tensed.

When he knew Alyssa wasn’t looking, he shot Reggie an angry glare.

Reggie smirked at him, daring him to say something.

Mr. Keaton looked from pair to pair, rubbing his chin. “Amanda? Alyssa? Would either of you want to switch?”

Mandy was just about to speak up. He felt Alyssa tense up beside him and heard her mumble to herself, “Not today, Satan..” as she turned in her seat, giving Mandy an angry glare.

Mandy glared right back at Alyssa before giving their teacher the sweetest smile she could muster. “I’d love that, Mr. Keaton. Reggie’s an idiot. I’m sure even that Serpent is so much smarter.”

“The Serpent has a name, bimbo. You wouldn’t like it if I only called you bimbo, right?” Alyssa whirled around in her seat to snap at Mandy before she could stop herself. “Anyway, Reggie’s no stupider than you. Kind of a perfect fit if I do say so myself.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes at Mandy, but he cleared his throat, tapping Alyssa’s shoulder so she’d turn around before she got into trouble. He found himself super focused on the way she got heated just now because Mandy hadn’t bothered saying his name.

“If he makes me switch, I swear to god, I’m unleashing my wrath.” Alyssa grumbled to herself. Making Sweet Pea take a shaky breath or two.

Why did this matter so much?

Sweet Pea found himself a little surprised. He honestly thought she’d be jumping at the chance. He assumed she’d be happy to get away from him.

“Alyssa? Your thoughts on the matter?” Mr. Keaton questioned.

“ Nope. I refuse to have that absolute pig be the father of my non-existent children, sir. I’m fine where I am.” Alyssa answered, turning to shrug at Reggie as she said it.

Reggie pouted a little.

Sweet Pea smirked, shrugging at Reggie when their eyes met. Reggie glared at him, finally turning around when Mandy cleared her throat.

“You could’ve switched, Cherry.”

“ I realize this. But I didn’t want to.” Alyssa answered, finally meeting his gaze. Biting her lip. “Unless you wanted me to switch?”

“No, no. Fuck no.” Sweet Pea’s answer tumbled out in a rush. Alyssa laughed softly, managing a little smile. “In that case, we should probably get started. This is a pretty long list. Oh, while I’m thinking about it.. We’re trying to avoid my shitty eyesight, red hair and skin that burns at even a hint of sunlight.” she muttered, glancing over at him.

Sweet Pea caught himself doing it again, getting caught up in her eyes. Staring like an idiot. He nodded. “Okay, since we’re going there, Cherry. We’re trying to roll with the hopes that this kid doesn’t knock their fucking heads off every time they walk through a door.”

“I mean, it’s better than climbing shelves and counters to reach things your idiot brother puts out of your reach deliberately, but hey.. Go off I guess.” she teased gently, smiling at him. Holding out the dice.

“You roll first. I am.. Not good at dice.” Alyssa pleaded. Sweet Pea chuckled and shook his head. “Oh no. No, you first.” he smirked at her, he couldn’t resist it.

Alyssa pouted but took the dice and rolled.

“Okay, so.. Doubles..” Alyssa announced when both the dice settled on the side with one dot.

“Twins.” Sweet Pea consulted the list. “We were rolling for a number of offspring just then, right?” he asked.

“They better have given me good drugs.” Alyssa joked, filling in the chart. “I’ll roll for one, you can roll for the other?” she asked. Sweet Pea nodded. Silently hoping to god she hadn’t noticed him staring yet again. He answered in a daze, “Yeah.” as he took the dice to roll again. This time they were rolling for hair color.

“You better roll again, sir. Remember? We’re trying to avoid red hair.” Alyssa nodded to the dice settled on the top of the desk between them.

“Actually, no. I’m not. You are, but I’m not.” Sweet Pea smirked, the smirk growing when he saw her pout a little about it. “Deal with it, Cherry.”

“Well, we’re off to a great start. Can’t even agree on hair color.” Alyssa teased, noting that they’d gotten the red hair trait from her.

She took the dice back. “Come on dark brown and functional brown eyes..” she muttered, smiling when she rolled for Sweet Pea’s eye color, but scowling a little when she managed to roll that yes, they’d have vision trouble. “Poor kids.” she shook her head, laughing. Holding out the dice to him.

Sweet Pea had been in a daze yet again. Luckily, he managed to pull himself out of said daze when she placed the dice in his hand. He rolled. Grumbling when he got himself for the height gene.

The bell rang a few seconds later. Alyssa gathered her books and started for the door. Sweet Pea caught up to her. “Wasn’t so bad.” he mused. Carefully.

Alyssa smiled, shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t.” hiding a laugh as Reggie and Mandy made their way past in a very heated and angry argument. She nudged Sweet Pea, nodding towards them. “Some people should never be allowed to procreate.”

“They really shouldn’t.” Sweet Pea answered, swallowing down a lump as it formed in his throat. Letting his gaze linger for a few seconds. “Hey, if you want.. We can finish this tonight at the Wyrm.”

“You’d be okay with me showing up at the Wyrm.” Alyssa eyed him carefully.

He shrugged. “It’s not any different than all the times you came with Toni.”

“I’ll be there, then. Oh and Pea?” Alyssa turned back to look at him. He chuckled. “What?”

“Your name is coming off the top of the Mortal Kombat leaderboard. Tonight. Better bring your A game, sir.”

He bit back a groan at what she said. There was just something about the look in her eyes just now.. Teasing and playful… that combined with her calling him Sir definitely gave him a reason to need the walk to his next class.

Because he needed to pull himself together. He needed to get his head around everything and more importantly, he needed to really stop and think if he wanted to keep fighting whatever was starting to happen between them.

Because he’d been fighting it since he’d seen her around town for the first time. And he just couldn’t anymore.

Fangs caught up to him. “Didn’t you hear me yellin at you, man?”

“I was thinkin.”

“About?”

“Maybe you were right. About what we were talking about last night?”

Fangs smirked. “You’re gonna go for it?”

“I want to. Doesn’t mean I will. But I can’t keep saying I don’t.. Ya know.. When I do. Because it’s driving me fucking insane, man.”

“Want her?” Fangs filled in the blank, snickering when Sweet Pea gave him a dirty look but nodded. As they made their way into class and took their usual seats in the back, Fangs leaned across the aisle. “For what it’s worth… I think she’s into you, man.”

“Yeah. I doubt that.” Sweet Pea looked at his best friend as if Fangs were losing his mind. He wished that were true. He wanted it to be true. But he doubted that it was.

“You’re blind.” Fangs chuckled, turning his attention to the note Kevin had slipped into his locker. Chuckling and rubbing his chin in thought as he debated on what his response was going to be.

XXX

Practice had just ended. I made my way over to my locker in the girls locker room and I opened the door, thinking I’d grab the clothes I bought to change into after practice. Clothes that were nowhere to be found.

I grumbled to myself, annoyed. A quick glance around the locker room put me onto the fact that Mandy and her little army of skanks were circled up, looking at me. Whispering and laughing. Mandy was bold enough to call out, “Missing something, are we?” as she held up my clothes, laughing… Slinking over to the door that lead into the hallway.

Tossing my clothes right out in the middle.

I turned and glared at her. “You bitch.”

“Aw, are you upset right now? What are you gonna do, Alyssa? Go cry to big brother? Go sic your Serpent trash loverboy on me? I’m so so so scared.” she nudged her friend Kaylie. “I bet she doesn’t do anything. I bet she just sits there and fumes like usual. I’m surprised she had the nerve to call me a bimbo earlier in class if we’re being honest.” Mandy smirked as she said it, glancing at me. Nodding towards the door.

“If you want your clothes, sweetie, they’re right there! All you have to do is go get them…. Unless you’re afraid? Don’t flatter yourself, Alyssa. Nobody wants to see you in your underwear. Absolutely no one.”

I clenched my fists and took a deep breath or two. Mandy and her friends were all staring at me, waiting. Gazing from the hallway, where my clothes were piled up, back to me. Smirking and laughing because they were starting to think Mandy was right. That I wasn’t going to do anything. That I’d just turn and ignore Mandy’s attempts to goad me into a confrontation and shove down all my anger like I usually did.

,, she wants you to turn the other cheek like you’ve been doing until lately. If you do that, you’re basically telling her she can get away with this crap.” the thought came and rather than shove it out in favor of being the bigger person, I leaned into it.

Because today was not the day and I was not the one.

I stood and walked out into the hallway. Right as the bell to dismiss final class for the day rang and the hallway was starting to flood with students. One of them being Sweet Pea. We locked eyes as I walked past, calmly going to the Riverdale crest on the floor that she’d tossed my jeans in the center of. Bending to pick up my jeans. Sweet Pea’s arm shot out.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, out here like that, Cherry? Have you lost your mind entirely?”

“Nope. I’m getting my fucking clothes. Since Mandy the thundercunt scattered them all over the hallway.”

Sweet Pea growled quietly, his fists clenching and unclenching. He took off his Riverdale polo, holding it out to me, but I shook my head, biting my lip and smirking as I did so. “Oh no. No.. see, if I don’t do something major now, she’s never going to fuck off. So thanks but no. Now put your shirt back on before you get in trouble.”

Sweet Pea eyed me. Shaking his head. I tapped my foot impatiently, holding his gaze. “Sweet Pea… Put the goddamn shirt back on. I know what I’m doing, okay? This is to prove a point.”

“What good is that gonna do when you’re caught by a teacher and you wind up in detention, huh? Take the fucking shirt, Cherry. Take it now.” Sweet Pea used his firmest tone, but I was too angry. It didn’t do anything to me.

“Put the shirt back on, Sweet Pea. Now.” I muttered firmly. A hand on my hip. “Do it. I’m willing to stand here until a teacher spots me if that’s what it’ll take to keep you from doing something that we know might get you expelled.”

“Goddamn it.” Sweet Pea gave up arguing, finally realizing I wasn’t going to budge one way or the other. Not until I’d done what I came out to do. And the less he argued with me, the quicker I could get it done and get back in the locker room.

I spotted my favorite Motley Crue crop tee near the girls bathroom. And totally zoned out, so angry that I was actually shaking a little, I paid not one single bit of attention to the fact that a few people were staring.

I was too pissed to be embarrassed and that is probably a good thing. Because if I wasn’t so pissed, I’d have wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole.

I spotted the red and black plaid shirt I’d been wearing over my tee shirt hanging over the rim of a garbage can and I calmly walked over, plucking it out. With my clothing gathered, I went to step back in the locker room, ignoring the one or two whistles and the Ghoulie who felt the need to comment something so gross that I debated heavily on walking over and twisting his dick in my hand until it twisted off.

I flung the door of the locker room open wide and when I did, it connected with Mandy’s face because she’d been standing there. Probably recording the whole thing to post on her socials later.

Because that’s totally something girls like her do for funsies.

She stumbled back, holding her nose as blood began to slowly pool between her fingers. And before she had a chance to react, I was slamming her against the lockers immediately to the right of the door. My forearm against her throat to hold her there.

“You’re going to erase whatever video you just recorded. Don’t fucking test me, you diseased thundercunt. Erase the video. I know you recorded the whole thing.”

“You little bitch, you broke my nose!” Mandy slammed her head into mine, causing me to drop my forearm from her throat and grab for my own nose. Once she was free, she threw a punch. I ducked it and came up swinging. Connecting with her jaw. And before she could even recover from the punch, I was grabbing her by the hair and shoving her head at the locker door.

She charged at me, knocking me on the ground. I grabbed hold of her face, trying to go for her eyes and once she was trying to block that, I flipped it and reversed it so that I was straddling her hips now. The first thing I did was grab hold of her phone and throw it on the floor a few feet away as hard as I could. When she tried to reach up and choke me, I choked her back and she rolled us so that she was on top this time. Fists were flying again. The benches that ran the middle of the locker room were being moved out of place. Lockers were being hit as we made full use of the floor in the girls locker room.

Her friends tried to rush over to help but Veronica and Cheryl stopped them from getting close as Cheryl called out to me, “Get her! It’s about time!” and she told Veronica firmly, “Lock the doors. Nobody gets in or out. Amanda has had this coming for a while now.”

Veronica nodded, locking the door to the locker room. Betty held off Mandy’s friends with Veronica and Cheryl’s help. Determined to let the fight keep going. At least until one of us or the other calmed down.

I stood up, pulling Mandy off the floor. Pulling her towards the showers.

Turning on the water full blast and as cold as I could get it. Shoving her into it and as soon as I had her cornered, I leaned down to her level. Grabbing hold of her white and yellow Riverdale Vixens ringer that now had blood spattered on the front of it.

“You better hope that video got erased, Mandy, or this is just a preview of what your life’s gonna be like, honey.” I said it quietly and calmly. “And if you think for even a second about messing with me again… Remember this.”

“You’re actually insane.. You crazy little bitch. Just wait. I’ll get back at you. This isn’t over, Alyssa.”

“Oh, I’m counting on that, you diseased mega skank.” I shrugged as I walked away from her, facing her. My middle finger up in the air. “You might want to clean yourself up, Amanda. We can’t have anybody thinking we were up to no good in here, now can we?” I challenged.

A teacher was pounding on the door and it started to click into place what I’d just done. I sank down on the nearest bench, panting to catch my breath. Trying to calm down. Letting the anger and everything subside.

Cheryl made her way over, Veronica and Betty in tow. Stopping to unlock the door as they went. Whatever Cheryl told the teacher had the teacher satisfied that nobody was up to anything bad in the locker room and leaving and once they had, Cheryl shut the door quickly. Leaning against it with her hand over her heart. “Whew. That was so close.”

Veronica sank down on the bench in front of me, the first aid kit we kept in the locker room open and across her lap.

“This is going to hurt, Al. I’m sorry in advance.” Veronica winced as she started to apply hydrogen peroxide to the few scratches on the side of my face and cheek.

All I could do was nod. Because I was still coming down from the adrenaline.

“If she messes with you again after this, she’s clearly an idiot.” Veronica spoke up after a few seconds. I shrugged. “Oh, she’s not done with me yet. But it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stop it before all hell broke loose.” Cheryl spoke up, wincing as I looked up at her and laughed it off, shaking my head. Trying to flinch away from Veronica as she came at my face with a cold and damp washcloth to clean the blood away from underneath my nose.

“Cheryl, trust me. I’m fine. I can handle myself. You guys were trying to count the votes, it’s not a big deal. Besides. I needed to stand up for myself.”

“I know, but if I’d been in here, I could’ve stopped her.” Cheryl butted in, gently but firmly.

“I should’ve stood up to her way before now, if I’m being honest. Take the high road, they said. It’s better in the long run, they said. That’s a load.” I grumbled.

“Ouch fuck ouch hey.. Can you wipe less painfully?” I pleaded with Veronica.

She grimaced and muttered an apology.

“I can’t wait to hear about this crap later. Or try explaining it to my dad and Archie. Archie’s going to take the chance to spin this so that somehow, it’s anybody’s fault but mine.” I grumbled, shaking my head, disgusted at the thought.

“He’s just being a protective brother.”

“I wish sometimes he’d not do that.. So much. Did you know that he just stood back and let Reggie and Sweet Pea fight earlier when the team went to cut everyone loose?”

“I’m still angry with my father about that.” Veronica muttered, adding a second later, “But, that’s typical of him, though. He’s not happy until he owns everything and everyone.” Veronica fumed, shaking her head with a disgusted look on her face.

I bit my lip, nodding. Keeping my own opinions on the subject to myself. Because it’s not like she can control what her parents choose to do. And she tries to be better, she tries to make it so that there’s a very clear and obvious difference between herself and her parents, but with parents like hers, you wind up having to get your hands dirty sooner or later.

I’d just finished getting dressed and stepped into the hallway, finding Sweet Pea leaning against the wall.

“What the fuck was going on in there?”

I shrugged.

Mandy walked past with her friends and Sweet Pea looked from Mandy back at me. Grimacing as he caught sight of my face. Stepping closer.

“Did she do that?” he eyed me in concern. Tensing up a little. The soft edge to his voice had my heart fluttering a little, but as fast as that started, I was quick to shove it down. Reminding myself that Sweet Pea only tolerated me because we happened to share two friends in common. His hand raised, gingerly touching at a bruise forming along my jaw. Hissing as he shook his head. I tensed a little because now that the adrenaline was completely gone and the shock I’d been in or whatever for the duration of my fight was wearing off too and now everything just plain hurt.

“Mhm.” I answered quietly, swallowing down a lump as it formed in my throat. Gazing up at him. I blinked when my body brushed up against his, not aware that I’d stepped closer to him.

“Did you do.. All that?” he nodded to where she stood at her locker in the hallway, glaring daggers in my direction, her friends flocking her.

“I hope you’re prepared to pay for Amanda’s broken nose, you crazy witch.” Kaylie called out calmly. “Her mother is going to make sure you pay for the fight.”

Mandy smirked at me. “I can’t wait to tell my mother everything. I’m almost as excited to talk to her about the way you’ve been bullying me as I am to post the video of you wandering the hallway of our high school in underwear.”

I tensed, taking a step away from Sweet Pea and forward in the hallway. Sweet Pea reached out quickly, grabbing me up and away by my hips. Putting me behind him as he eyed Mandy calmly. “You really don’t value your life at all, do ya?”

Mandy eyed him, gulping.

“It’s a simple question, Mandy.” Sweet Pea shrugged, smirking a little.

“What are you gonna do, Serpent? I can make one call and have you arrested.”

I growled from behind Sweet Pea. “Try it you fucking gremlin. Try it.” I threatened.

“Enough.” Sweet Pea’s tone was calm and firm as he looked from Mandy to me, folding his arms over his chest. I went quiet and Mandy’s lip quivered a little as she gazed up at him.

“What you’re gonna do, Mandy… Erase whatever you recorded. If you don’t, you’re really not going to like what happens.” Sweet Pea stepped closer to her, giving a menacing scowl as he towered over her.

Just the way he said it had a slow and lazy heat settling in the pit of my stomach. Had my breath catching in my throat because of just the tone he took… You’d think he was my actual boyfriend. He was acting more like one than any of my past boyfriends, Reggie included.

If I were more hopeful, I’d almost want to say he meant every word of the threat he made to Mandy.

Mandy hurried off and Sweet Pea turned, settling his gaze on me. Eyeing my nose critically and grimacing. “It’s not broken. What the hell happened?”

“She was practically leaning against the damn door so when I threw it open, it hit her in the nose. She went to swing at me, I threw her against a locker… Then it kind of spiralled out of control from there?” I shuffled my feet, going fidgety under his intent and concerned gaze.

“Who locked the door?” Sweet Pea asked, admitting a few seconds later, “I tried the handle when I saw Mrs. Ellis heading for the locker room. I heard all the yelling and every time somebody hit a locker or the wall, so I figured something was going on in there… I was gonna warn you...”

“Oh, that was Cheryl. She wasn’t going to risk anybody going to get a teacher to come in and break it up.” I gave a soft laugh, shaking my head. I nodded towards the doors at the end of the empty hallway.

“We should probably get going. The last place I want to be locked in overnight is here.”

“Yeah, I was waiting on Fangs, but apparently, he ditched me.” Sweet Pea shrugged. I raised a brow, because that wasn’t like Fangs. Usually if he said he’d be somewhere, he was there.

“I haven’t seen him since lunch, come to think of it.” I spoke up after a few seconds.

“He probably bailed. He’s probably already at the Wyrm.” Sweet Pea shrugged. I nodded, agreeing.

“So.. ready?” I asked. Trying my best not to get my hopes up. Preparing myself for Sweet Pea to suggest going to my dad’s or to Pops instead of going to the Wyrm. Shocked more than a little bit when Sweet Pea smirked and nodded.

“Yeah. Just so you know, Cherry… If you think for one second you’re wiping me off the leaderboard, not gonna happen.” he chuckled as we walked down the hall and he paused to push the door open for me.

About halfway to the Wyrm, my hand brushed against his. I glanced down, biting my lip. Debating heavily on just grabbing hold of his hand.

Because friends held hands, right?

I mean.. I held hands with Cheryl and Toni all the time.

Except deep down, I knew that was not even remotely the real motive behind holding Sweet Pea’s hand. The simplest truth was that I just… Couldn’t stop myself from doing something. Anything.

I took a deep breath and carefully, I slipped my hand into his. Gazing down for a second or two after I’d done it. Shocked I’d actually had the damn nerve to go through with it. Even more shocked when Sweet Pea didn’t immediately scowl, tense up or let go.

Instead, his fingers laced with mine.

And like this morning, neither of us really mentioned it. But that tension that seemed to hang around us like a heavy cloud recently?

It got so very much thicker.

He pushed open the door to the Wyrm and I stepped under his arm, into the building. He stepped in behind me, nodding to a table with two chairs towards the back. Where it was a little quieter.

“We should be able to get everything finished back there, Cherry.”

I nodded. My eyes darted around. Finding it odd that the same people staring at me currently never even gave me a second look when I wandered in with Toni and Fangs.

I shoved the thought out of my head.

We were just two classmates.. Two friends.. Meeting to finish an assignment for school.

We made our way to the back of the bar, taking a seat at the table. At one point, while we were deep in rolling and making notes for the chart we’d been given and for our report we’d have to write later, FP wandered past.

“That’s good kid. Nice to see you actually takin school seriously. Don’t give Alyssa a hard time, buddy.” he flashed Sweet Pea a smirk and Sweet Pea nodded. Smirking right back at FP.

“People are looking at us like you’re doing something wrong.” I leaned in and whispered when I just couldn’t take the way people were watching like a hawk anymore and it had me curious.

Sweet Pea glanced up and around, shrugging. “ Most of the older guys think it’s impossible to be friends with a girl and won’t bring one around unless they’re involved with her. Is it bothering you?” he gazed at me, that concerned look in his eyes again.

I shook my head profusely. Taking a sip of the wild cherry pepsi that FP had brought over to us to drink earlier and wanting to kick myself for even mentioning it, because I had a feeling I’d probably just made things awkward.

And that was the very thing I was trying to avoid.

We finally finished rolling for genetic traits and I finished up the sketch I’d been doing.

“Okay. If you laugh I swear to God.” I gazed at Sweet Pea nervously as I shoved the sketch pad across the table to him.

“Did you just do this?” he asked, staring at the sketch.

“Yeah. I’m not the best.”

I reached for the sketch pad. But not before it flipped a few pages and settled on a drawing I’d done of Sweet Pea when he hadn’t been paying attention one day while we were all hanging out in here, playing the Mortal Kombat arcade game.

Lucky for me, he saw that I’d done sketches of Toni and Cheryl sharing a Twizzler at lunch one day and Fangs working on his motorcycle in the parking lot before school one morning. When he got to the sketch I’d done of Reggie, he scowled a little.

“I wanted to burn that too but Cheryl convinced me if I ever decided to actually get off my ass and apply to art school after I’m done with Riverdale High, it’d be good for my portfolio. She literally tried to throw herself on the fire to stop me from burning all the sketches I did of Reggie.” I laughed quietly, wincing as I shook my head.

Every time I caught myself thinking about the fact that I’d been taken in by a charming smirk and flirtatious mannerisms and the charisma of one Reggie Mantle, it only reminded me how gullible I was. How soft-hearted.

You’d think that getting involved with a guy who all but stalked me and tried to spread nasty rumors and suggestive pictures of me that I never should’ve sent in the first place when I finally got smart enough to break it off with him before leaving Chicago would be enough to teach me.

Apparently, it wasn’t. Because I came here and what’d I do? I got involved with Reggie Mantle. And now, that was over and I was starting to feel things for Sweet Pea, a guy who probably only tolerated me because we shared friends in common.

That was another huge reason I was not keen on opening myself up too quickly all over again. I might not always make the best choices, but even I had the common sense to know that I needed time… I needed to bounce back. Figure things out on my own.

And all of that was another huge reason I was determined to keep whatever I was starting to feel for Sweet Pea close to the vest. The more I could keep whatever I felt at bay, the better off I’d be. Because realistically, I just didn’t dare hope.

I was starting to realize I just couldn’t trust my own judgement when it came to emotional things. Until I got to a place where I could, I was doing the best thing I could for me.

Something tells me this is going to be so much harder than I could ever imagine though.

The door to the bar flew open and Toni barged in. Over to the table Sweet Pea and I were sitting at.

“Have you talked to Cheryl at all this afternoon?” Toni asked in a rush.

“I tried to call her earlier but it kept going to voicemail. And we were just saying earlier that Fangs is MIA too…” I rubbed my temples. I had the sneaking suspicion that I knew exactly what might have happened to Cheryl, because not so long ago, her mother had kind of caught wind of her relationship with Toni. And her mother was not thrilled.

I grumbled, digging in my jeans pocket for my phone.

It clicked for Toni that Sweet Pea and I had come to the Wyrm. Alone. Without her or Fangs present to act as a buffer.

“You’re here together, fuck. I’m sorry. I’m just.. I’m freaking out right now.” Toni glanced from me to Sweet Pea and then back again. “Are you two finally going to stop being snipey assholes and get along though?”

Sweet Pea shrugged, giving me a teasing smirk. “Maybe she’s not so bad… For a princess.”

“Maybe you’re not so bad either. For a giant grumpy asshole.” I teased right back. Feeling my cheeks burn hot just a little at the look in his eyes and the way he put emphasis on the word princess.

Because no, that did not help my current ongoing mental dilemma at all.

“You’re staying with me until we figure out this situation with Cheryl, right?” I asked Toni. Toni nodded, stealing a sip of my Pepsi. “I swear to God, if her mother’s hurt her…”

“If her mother’s done anything to her, she’s going to answer to both of us. I’ve got your back, Topaz.” I spoke up, giving Toni a reassuring look. I tried to call Cheryl again on my phone, but it went straight to voicemail too. I frowned at it, putting my phone away.

Toni eyed me and then glanced in Sweet Pea’s direction as if she were indicating that she wanted details later tonight when we were back at my dad’s place. Mouthing to me, “Well?”

I shook my head, shrugging. “We were just finishing that thing for Biology.” I mouthed. Glancing at my cell phone. I was not getting a good feeling at all. And the more Cheryl’s phone rang and went to voicemail, the more that bad feeling grew.

“It’s going to voice. He’s normally here already if he ditches.” Sweet Pea swore to himself and shook his head.

“Wait.. he got called to the office right after lunch.” Toni spoke up. Swearing when she tried to call Cheryl yet again and the call went to Cheryl’s voicemail as it had just done for me. She shoved her phone into her pocket and took a few deep breaths. “Maybe she just went to sit with her Nana. They haven’t let her out of the hospital yet, I don’t think.. That has to be it.”

The door flew open again and this time, my brother and Jughead were rushing in. Stopping to talk to a few of the other Serpents we went to school with who were present. Whatever Jughead told them had them rushing out the door in a hurry. I eyed them but quickly turned my attention back to the situation at hand involving our two missing friends. Trying to retrack the events of the day. I remembered it then, Fangs had been called to the office during lunch and after that, I hadn’t seen him again.

We had the second to last class of the day together. He hadn’t been there.

“You guys have to get out of here. Get everyone out of here and out of this side of town now. They’re about to raid the Wyrm.” Jughead and my brother rushed over to us. My brother let out a ragged breath when he caught sight of me. “Thank god. There you are. I was worried when I couldn’t find you. What the hell happened to your face, pixie?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.. You guys. Explain. What the fuck do you mean we have to get out of here? Archie, what’s going on? What have you let that jackass talk you into this time?”

“Nothing! It’s something I overheard, okay, look. I know you’re still pissed at me. But you guys need to get everyone together and get the hell off of this side of town, okay? Just trust me. Do it. I told Dad what was going on and he said that we could put people up until FP figured something out.”

Sweet Pea eyed my brother with a wary look. I eyed him too, wondering briefly if this were some kind of a trick that Hiram put him up to. Wondering how the hell he managed to get Jughead in on it if it were.

“What the hell is going on tonight?” I wondered aloud after a few seconds.Not even ten seconds later, one of the older bikers wandered in, getting a hold of FP, taking him to the back to talk.

“Are you makin this up, Andrews? Is this a trap? Because to me, that’s what it feels like.” Sweet Pea tensed. His fists clenched at his side and my brother shook his head. “No. This is me. Trying to make up for all of the other stuff, okay? Look. Hiram set the whole thing up this afternoon after he got done arranging to have Fangs arrested earlier.”

“He’s not lying. I just went down the the station, man. Fangs is there. They’re holding him for questioning and they won’t say a fucking word about why he’s even there. And while I was there, I heard some of the guys in the break room joking about how fun it was going to be, cracking some Serpent skulls tonight. If we leave now, they have nothing. They don’t get any evidence, they can’t make any arrests.” Jughead explained impatiently. “We have to go. We needed to be gone ten minutes ago, if you want the honest fucking truth, Pea.”

“Dad really said he’d let them hide in our house. You’re not lying.” I questioned my brother, gazing up at him. Standing taller. “Because I swear to God, Archie, if this is a trap.. If any more of my friends get arrested because you have a burning desire to be Hiram Lodge’s long lost son or whatever the fuck it is you want to accomplish.”

My brother cut me off. “I’ve been working undercover. I wasn’t supposed to tell you anything. I wasn’t supposed to say anything to anyone, actually. Getting close to Hiram is… for the greater good.”

“Uh huh.You mean like the actual greater good or the oh look, pops bought me a ferrari for christmas because I’m a good little fucking stooge greater good?” I questioned, a brow raised and my hand on my hip.

“Al, we can finish this argument once your friends have their shit and they’re heading back to our side of town. I’ll gladly finish this discussion then. Dad sent me and Jugs to get everyone away from here.”

“I don’t know..”

Sweet Pea cleared his throat. “I’m not saying I trust you, Andrews. But I’m willing to take what Jugs says with a grain of salt. He is one of us now.”

Toni and I exchanged a surprised look, but then everyone started to rush around and gather their things as quick as they could. And as soon as we were all out in the alley behind the Wyrm, the first of at least six police cars came flying by, blue lights flashing and sirens blazing.

I let out a ragged breath and glanced up at Sweet Pea. When I caught on to the fact that he was both angry and silently freaking out, I reached down, gently grabbing hold of his pinkie finger with mine. Giving him a weak smile when I glanced up at him.

He didn’t smile back, but as we rounded the corner and promptly had to find another alley to go down to hide because another cop car rushed past, I felt him squeeze my pinkie finger with his more than a time or two.

Almost the second we crossed over into the North Side, I realized just how eerie and quiet it was.

Too quiet.

Nobody was saying anything. We were all too tired from running. Hiding.

At one point, Toni reached down and grabbed the hand of mine closest to her, giving it a squeeze as she muttered into my ear quietly, “I hope Cheryl is okay.”

“We’ll get up to my room and figure something out, okay?” I promised in a whisper.

And on the other side of me, I felt Sweet Pea’s hand lazily close on mine. A squeeze so light that I honestly didn’t think he even realized he’d done it.

It took a few seconds, but I dared to glance down. Eyes fixing on the way his hand engulfed mine. His fingers laced between my fingers. Before I could stop myself, I dragged my thumb knuckle lazily over his palm. Gave his hand a similar light squeeze as I glanced up at Toni to pretend I wasn’t aware I’d done it.

Once we were all in my dad’s house, FP showed up. Explaining that he was currently trying to figure out somewhere everyone could go. Letting people who’d gotten separated from family during the whole scramble to leave whether their people made it and were incoming or at another place that FP had taken the other half of South Side to keep the cops from finding everyone at once or whether they’d been caught and were going to need bail.

My dad and Archie took over the kitchen with the help of FP and Jughead, making food for everyone. Once everyone else was set up and occupied and there wasn’t anything else I could do to help my dad and my brother, I went to go find Toni and we slipped out of the chaos downstairs, retreating up to my room.

The second the door was closed behind me, Toni spoke up.

“You don’t think Penelope killed her.”

“Toni, no. But I do think that she’s keeping her somewhere. Remember Cheryl telling us that she needed to tell us something important? I think that whatever she was going to tell us is the reason we can’t find her right now. Her mother makes Joan Crawford look like a fucking saint.” I fell back across my bed and stared at the ceiling. Sitting up a few minutes later.

“Hey, that girl in my English class… her mom’s a nurse. I can ask if Cheryl’s been there to sit with her nana.”

I dug my phone out and texted the girl in question. Frowning when the girl answered that she’d been there earlier, but she’d left to go home.

“She’s not there. Okay, I do not like the way this feels.”

“Me either.”

We sat in silence on my bed for a few minutes, trying to figure out a way to find out what happened to Cheryl. As I tried to think of places she might have gone or hidden at, I texted my mom about Fangs being kept at the station.

She texted me back, asking if I knew why they were holding him and I texted her back that we were trying to figure out why and we were hoping she’d call and scare someone into giving some form of an answer.

I frowned when she called a few minutes later and explained that she hadn’t been able to get anything. She asked what the hell was going on in town tonight, telling me that while she’d been talking to the secretary at the station, she’d heard a lot of yelling and angry chanting from outside. And a lot of whispering and hushed laughing.

I told her about the raid and I told her about Midge’s body being found during the school play. I told her that people had been starting rumors for whatever reason that Fangs might have done it, because Midge and Fangs had something going on.

“You’re staying out of trouble though, right? With your brother going through whatever it is he’s going through, sweetie…”

“About that.. I kind of got into a fight. But none of the teachers know. Nobody saw it.”

My mom sighed and I frowned, tensing up a little at a possible lecture incoming. When it started, I sat there with the phone away from my ear, letting her go on for a few minutes before I explained calmly, “I’m not going to stand back and be a doormat either, mom. And since Archie is doing all this and showing his entire ass, I need to take care of my own problems. Mandy was a problem, I solved it. End of discussion.”

“First of all, don’t take that tone with me. Second of all.. Does your father know? Did you tell him any of what you just told me?”

“No. I only told you what I just did to get you off my back. Mom.. I’m.. I love you and I’m sorry. I can’t be perfect and I can’t be something I’m not.”

“I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m asking you to stay out of trouble.”

“It doesn’t feel like that though.”

We exchanged tense goodnights and goodbyes and I ended the call, tossing my phone at the top of my vanity as I flopped back against my bed.

“Ever feel like the black sheep?” I wondered aloud. Feeling bad about it after I said it, because I realized that Toni literally only had the Serpents, Cheryl and her grandfather and me. I palmed my face and shook my head, ashamed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get it. My grandpa and I argue a lot.” Toni gave me a sympathetic nod.

I shook my head at myself. “I swear, my mom and I are constantly butting heads. It’s part of the reason I never understood why she insisted I was the one to go to Chicago with her and that Archie stay here in Riverdale with Dad.”

“Probably because trust me. There are some things that men are not equipped to deal with.”

“I mean, true, but…”

Toni laughed quietly. Stretching a little. “Maybe Cheryl just wanted some space. I haven’t found anything out from anyone else.”

“All I know is what she told me before she left practice. She was going to see her Nana Rose again.”

“Yeah, she told me that too. But she’s been jumpy all day. Like she’s scared.”

“I noticed too.” I agreed, nodding. “Maybe she’ll be at school tomorrow. If she’s not, we’ll ditch and try to find answers or something.”

“Yeah. I’m too wiped to think anymore right now and if I do, I’m going to drive myself insane. And if I do that, we both know I’m going to go off and do something fucking dumb.” Toni admitted as she pulled back the cover on the other side of my bed.

“You’re cool with sharing a bed? I mean, all things considered.”

“Please,I know you have a very specific type of red-head and it ain’t me... Besides. You’re my friend. I’m not making you sleep on the floor.” I answered, gathering my things because I figured that everyone who was planning to shower tonight had probably done so already.

I made my way down the hall, reaching for the handle to the bathroom door right as Sweet Pea pulled it open from the other side. With a towel wrapped around his waist. I spun around, immediately going red in the face. “Shit, fuck. I’m sorry, I.. I thought everyone had already gotten a shower and gone to sleep?” I called out without daring to turn around and face him.

He cleared his throat. “Nah. I told Archie to go before me. I’m the one staying in your house. Didn’t want to intrude.” he tapped my shoulder when he’d pulled on his jeans and I turned around. He took a step forward to come out the door at the same time that I took a step forward to go in the door. We wound up body to body in the hallway. I gazed up at him, licking my lips.

He grimaced as his eyes settled on the bruise on my jaw from the fight earlier in the afternoon. “Did you show your dad? That looks a lot worse now.” His voice took on a concerned tone.

I shook my head. “Nope. I already had more than enough lecturing about it from my mom earlier when I called to get her to see if she could find out anything about why Fangs was arrested and being held.”

Sweet Pea raised a hand, dragging it through damp hair. A droplet of water trickled down his forehead. Then dropped onto his nose, rolling down it’s slope. When it dripped down and rolled down his lips, my eyes were glued to it’s movement. He cleared his throat, repeating the question that he’d asked me I apparently hadn’t heard. “Did she find out anything?”

“Just that they’re holding him until they have to let him go. If I had to guess though, it’s because people were saying crap about him and Midge having a thing going..” I muttered quietly. Shuffling my feet against worn wooden floorboards.

“At least you tried.” he muttered quietly, gazing down at me. His eyes darted to my bruises and scrapes from my fight with Mandy earlier and he cleared his throat. “You should go tell your dad what happened. Just in case she is dumb enough to upload anything she might have recorded and we can’t coerce her into taking it down on our own.”

“If she does, she does. Won’t be the first time something like that happened.” I blurted it out, going quiet as soon as I realized I had. Tensing a little because I really hoped that he didn’t pay it any attention. Or that he didn’t push to know what I meant.I wasn’t even sure why it slipped out. I fidgeted a little, nervous. He eyed me, but luckily, he didn’t ask for further details.

The last thing I wanted right now was for him to know exactly how stupid and pathetic I was and still am. If he knew I’d been dumb enough to sext Dave and Dave had turned and used the photos against me or any of the other shit that I got into in Chicago… I pushed the intrusive thought out of my head.

“Cherry?” Sweet Pea muttered quietly. His eyes fixing on mine. Hints of a smirk playing at his lips. As quickly as the thought came ,, he has literally no idea just how devastatingly handsome he really is, I swear to God.” I hurried to shove it out. Bury it way down deep. Try to ignore the way I felt the slightest flutter of my heart. Or the way my throat seemed to close up when I realized that we were migrating closer to each other and that his hand was brushing against my hip just barely.

“Yeah, Pea?” I finally managed to pull myself together enough to get out the words. Gazing right back up at him, falling in right over my head and virtually powerless to stop it from happening.

“Night.” he yawned as he stepped out of the doorway, making his way back downstairs. From the sound of it, my brother had dragged out one of his old gaming systems. And apparently, he and a few other Serpents were sitting up, playing some long forgotten game. I made my way away from where I’d been peering down the stairs just to make sure that things weren’t tense between everyone and I turned, slipping into the bathroom.

Turning on the hot water and leaning against the wall, letting it cascade down onto my body from above. Just… trying to process the entire craziness of the day so far.

By the time I slipped into my side of the bed, Toni was already asleep, wearing my black velvet eye mask over her eyes. I found one of my other ones and slipped it down over my eyes.

And it seemed like in literally no time, I was out like a light. Exhausted from everything that had gone down in one day.

#sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea imagines #sweetpea fic #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction ; sweetpea #my fics ; sweetpea

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justcallmenikki7 · 4 years

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Thantophobia

Summary: Namjoon was the number one constant for eight years. You loved him so much, too much, even through his infidelity, to scared of letting him go.

Thantophobia: the phobia of losing someone you love.

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader and Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 5920

Warnings: Infidelity, Namjoon is a literal asshole, angst with some tiny sprinkles of fluff, Yoongi is loving you from the side, nice Yoongi, Yoongi only wants what is best for you, depression, heartbreak, cheating.

Song rec: Stay by Sugarland

Note: please just know that this is fiction and not real. I do not believe that Namjoon would actually do this to his significant other, or to any one. I had this idea for a long time, but to scared to write it. I finally did and I have had this sitting in my word doc for a while, finished, but scared to publish. This is one of my longest fan fic, and I am very proud of myself. I hope you all enjoy.

The bed was cold, something that you have been familiar with these past few months. You do not remember when it was warm and not cold.

Has it been weeks? Months? Or even a year?

You do not have an answer because the bed has been cold for as long as your heart has been broken. You do not understand why you have not changed this yet, but the thought of leaving him is impossible for you to do.

You cannot leave Kim Namjoon, not yet.

No matter how badly he has broken you, he is still the one to keep you whole. No matter how many times he has left you all alone at night just to go and warm her bed only to keep yours cold did not matter. You believe that he still loves you more than her, that is why he keeps coming back is because he loves you. He still loves you, and that is what matters.

You stare at the clock that is hung up on the wall opposite of you, waiting for him to come home. You do not know how long you have been staring at it, maybe more than a few hours? You do not know. All you know is that you are waiting for Namjoon to come home to you. To come home and to sweep you up in his arms, like he used to.

Used to.

You remember how he used to come home every evening, kissing you on the lips, a smile so radiant that it made you smile as big. You remember how he would tell you about his day, explaining how Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin would cause him and the other hyungs hell at work by messing up the copy machine. After that, he would try and help you with cooking dinner, only for you to cuss him out since he would trip and spill what you were making. To apologize, he would give you that innocent look that would melt away the anger and bring you happiness. You would smile, shake your head, and then give him a kiss that would eventually lead to more.

What happened?

What happened was that new intern that applied at Namjoon’s work. What happened was her beauty and intelligence, and knowledge for Namjoon’s work. You never understood much about engineering, but she did. She understood and brought such new ideas that Namjoon could not help but fall in love with. You could tell that she infatuated him so much that it led to him spending more time at work with her, than him spending time with you.

You knew that they kissed and made love because you smelt her perfume on him. You saw the red lipstick stain on his collar that he had tried hiding. You noticed the distance that he began to form between the both of you. You noticed it. Even though your best friend, Yoongi, showed you the evidence from his phone where they were all close to each other at work, you did not believe him.

But you believed that he still loved you because he was coming home to you. It may not be every night, but he still does. He still loves you right?

When Namjoon got home, you could tell that he regrets coming by the look on his face when he saw you sitting on the couch now, looking at the clock. He knew that you would be there, but he still came home so he cares, right?

“How was your day?” you asked him, a sad smile on your face and your bad attempt at wiping the tears away.

“It was fine.” He answered, avoiding looking you in the eyes.

Ignoring the pain that you felt when your husband could not look at you, you smiled anyways, “Would you like some dinner? I can fix up-“

“I’m getting a call from the office, I need-“

You cut Namjoon off. You knew what he was going to say, but you could not allow him to leave. He just got home, he cannot go back to her just yet. “Please don’t leave!” you begged, jumping off of the couch and running towards him, “-Please! You just got home,” you whimpered, bottom lip wobbling. He was going back to her. It was not a call from the office, it never was. It was always her. The woman that stole your Namjoon, the love of your life. She was the one for the cause of this. She was the one who made him fall out of love with you and in love with her. Being all alone in this house has driven you mad, but you still stayed because Namjoon comes back.

You are pathetic, you thought.

Namjoon looked torn, and that gave you a sick sense of hope. He wants to stay! “It’s important, Y/N.” He said sternly, avoiding looking in your eyes.

“More important than me?” You asked, hurt. You knew the answer, you just hoped that he would say ‘of course not’ or hoping that he would at least stay.

“I’ve got to go.” He ignored you, pushing past you so he could get to the front door.

That night, you went to bed alone, again.

************

Namjoon was home!

He came home early because he was caught up with everything at work and you knew that she was out of town to see some family. How you knew? Yoongi. You knew that Yoongi hated what is happening, but he still supported you. It tore him into pieces when he had to show you that picture of both Namjoon and her. Yoongi has always been your best friend, but his constant persistence of trying to get you to leave Namjoon is getting annoying. He told you that you need to open your eyes and see the truth.

You called him ridiculous. Yoongi does not know the love that you hold for the man who was sitting across from you at the dinner table. You scoffed to yourself, shaking your head. Namjoon loves you, he would not be here if he did not. Even though he is here with you physically, he is not here in a sense. He keeps getting onto his phone and texting someone. You ignore the smile that he holds each time his phone buzzes, trying to tell yourself that maybe it is the group chat that him and the boys have.

But would a group chat have a heart after the contacts name?

“Namjoon?” You called out, trying to ignore how his smile drops when he hears your voice.

“Yes?” He asked, voice strained.

“I love you.”

Namjoon only nodded, going back to his phone, “you too,” He uttered quietly, words were careless. It is okay, though! He still admitted to loving you, even though he did not say the two other words.

A tear slipped out of the corner of your eye. Wiping it away quickly, you got up abruptly, plate in hands. Making your way over to the sink, hands shaking, causing the silver to drop to the floor. Placing the plate down into the sink, you bent down and grabbed the silverware. Taking a deep breath, you set the silverware on top of the plate.

Throughout all of that, you notice that Namjoon did not ask if you were okay or if you needed help like he used too.

Maybe he does not love me anymore.

You scowled at yourself. Of course, he does! He is just busy texting the boys about something that needs his attention.

*********

Eight years ago, you met Namjoon through your best friend, Yoongi. Your first impression on the tall, clumsy, nerd-like man was enthrallment. You were enthralled by how smart, wise, and intelligent the man was. You were also very attracted to him too. He was handsome – his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and the dimples that always showed up whenever he smiled made you swoon. You also cannot forget how polite and gentleman-like he was towards you. You knew from the first interaction that he liked you too. The lame jokes, he bad attempts at flirting, and how he stuck with you at the party that your mutual friend had thrown.

Wherever you went, he followed.

It made you feel important, liked, something that you never had gotten in your life from the opposite gender. Of course, you had flings with other women, but they were flings. But with Namjoon, him, it felt as if it was a dream come true. That night, instead of hooking up, you both went and walked around the city until dawn was breaking through the tree lines. You both talked about anything and everything.

It felt as if you two were soulmates – soulmates that had found each other.

After that night, you and Namjoon went on several dates before he asked you to be his girlfriend. Then after a year, he got you a promise ring, and the year after that you both got married. Now, six years down the road, it is as if you do not know the man you married anymore. You do not know what is going on with his work, how he is feeling, anything.

Somehow that passion that you both had had faded away. Sometimes, you believe that it was all just a lie and a game to him. Sometimes, you question his love that he had claimed that he held for you. Because, if two people really love each other, then why would they just stop? Why would they hurt the one that they love for fun?

You do not remember the last time the both of you had a full conversation. All that you remember is the small, barely even, conversations that only have the words “fine” and “I’ve got to go.”

You blame yourself, honestly.

You blame yourself because you became bland. You became boring. You are only a woman who has a bachelor’s in psychology, allowing you to be a school counselor that quit and became a waitress at the local restaurant in town because counseling took a toll on you. Namjoon always reassured you that you do not need a job because he brings in enough income. Of course, being someone who loves being active and doing something, you laughed it off. You like having that sort of independence, being able to bring your own income in. With that, you became comfortable. Namjoon always told you that you were beautiful and that you do not need to change anything about yourself. So, you believed him. You stopped worrying about how you look cause, you felt fine with yourself, plus, Namjoon loves you. Why change? Well, you have to admit that you have gained weight. You have filled out, but who cares? Namjoon does not. or, at least you think.

Then why did he fall for someone who is prettier than you? Are you not pretty or beautiful anymore? Why do you care so much about how Namjoon feels about you?

Because he always told you how much he loves you and how beautiful he thinks you are.

But when was the last time he said those words with that passion that he always held?

You cannot remember.

Maybe it is me... you thought, looking at yourself in the mirror. He went and warm some other woman’s bed instead of yours. He does not hold the same passion for you anymore. So, why can you not leave him?

Because he is your norm. He is the one person that you have been familiar with for eight years now. You cannot throw those away so easily. But he did. But that does not matter. You love Namjoon, so much that you would die for him. You would kill for him, give him the whole world even if he broke yours so carelessly. No matter how much he has hurt you these past few months, you cannot leave him. Because you believe that love is something that you should not give up on, no matter how hard it is.

No matter how broken you are, he is still the one that can fix you. Seeing him and having him, even if it means she is having him too, it still is something. You still get to see him and be in his presence, even if it is the shortest amount of time, you are satisfied. It is so fucked up that you do not care. Nothing can cut that small amount of string that is holding you onto Namjoon still.

Until the one-day Namjoon came home with divorce papers in his hands.

“What are these?” You asked, already knowing the answer, praying to whoever is listening to make this a prank.

“I want to get a divorce, Y/N,” Namjoon declared, looking anywhere else just so he cannot look at you.

“Why? Aren’t we happy? I love you, Namjoon. Why do you want to get a divorce?” Your voice shook, a smile that is so broken on your face that Namjoon internally broke at the image.

He broke you.

“Because I am not happy anymore. I don’t love you anymore, Y/N.”

“Yes, you do. Then why do you keep coming home to me-“

“Y/N, stop being in denial and face the facts that I don’t love you anymore, I love someone else.” Namjoon cut you off with a cold tone, a hard look on his face. “Now, please sign the papers so we can get this over with.”

“I’m not signing those papers. Joonie, I love you. Please don’t leave me, please,” the desperateness that come out of you was something that you did not recognize. You do not even recognize yourself at the moment.

What kind of woman have you become to beg for someone that does not clearly love you anymore? To have them stay with you even though that they are unfaithful to you.

Namjoon sighed, rubbing his hands down his face, clearly impatient with you. “Y/N, just please, sign these papers. You knew that this was coming at some point. Can’t you see that we are not happy with one another? That we are not in love with one another?”

“But I am, Namjoon! I still love you and want you!” You yelled, hands thrown in the air, looking like a mad woman. “I know things have been hard lately, but isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be about? Hardships but also love?” You tried to reason, trying to do whatever you can to make sure Namjoon will stay. “We can go to marriage counseling! Figure out what had gone wrong and fix it!” You took a deep breath, trying to think of anything to convince him to stay, “She can’t love you like I can! I gave you everything and all of my love, and-and-”

“-I don’t want that! I don’t want to be with you anymore, Y/N! I found someone else and I want to be with her instead. I don’t want you.” Namjoon’s words broke your heart by each word that he said, destroying every last hope that you had.

“Why?” You were terrified to know the answer, but you needed to know why. Why the man that you have loved unconditionally for the past eight years, through thick and thin, even through his infidelity, does not want you anymore.

“Because I fell out of love with you. I realized after our marriage that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just thought that what we had at the time was all fun until I put myself in a position that I didn’t want to be in.” Namjoon did not even hesitate to answer your question.

“So, you never loved me?”

“I mean, I liked you and I thought that I loved you, but I never did.” His answer made you feel dizzy, made you feel sick to your stomach. It was silent for a few moments, until Namjoon slid the divorce papers towards, the pen on top. Shaking, you grabbed the pen and signed the papers where you needed to sign as proof that you agree to this divorce. “I bought you a small apartment downtown, it is nice and all. I made sure everything was covered.” Those were his final words before he left, leaving you all alone in this once, you thought, happy apartment.

This whole time you were lied to. This whole entire time you were living a fake fairy tale, loving someone who never once loved you. Never in your life have you ever felt so broken and abandoned. The man who you thought you knew turned out to be someone you never knew. The person he showed you was a fake. He was someone you told everything too, someone you trusted, someone you relied on for many different things.

And now, you do not know what to do with yourself.

*********

It has been three months since the divorce happened and you find out that the man you love never loved you. And in those three months, you never once left the apartment that he, out of courteously, bought for you. You do not eat much, or do much besides laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out where you went wrong. To make Namjoon realize that he did not want to spend the rest of his life with you. What did I do? You would ask yourself, wanting to know what is wrong with you. You would try and trace back to where you could have possibly messed up.

Yoongi, your best friend, would come and check up on you everyday when he got off of work. Sometimes, even, he would stay the night just to make sure that you would not do something that you would regret. And each time, he would be met with you, in bed, staring up at the ceiling quietly. It seemed, to him, that you look dead. You never moved much. The only sign of life that he had was your chest moving up and down slowly from your breathing and your eyes blinking every few seconds. Other than that, you looked dead to the world.

Yoongi would also try to make you eat something. Whether that be chicken noodle soup, some ramen, or some sort of protein/veggie that he knew that you liked. You would not tell him that sometimes the food was not good because he is not the best cook, but you would still eat a little to make him satisfied. After you were fed, he would help you (force you) to take a shower and clean yourself. While you were doing that, Yoongi took it upon himself to clean your bedroom and wash your bed sheets and blankets to get rid of the nasty odor that was there. After your shower, Yoongi would brush out the knots that were in your hair gently. All of these things that he would do for you would make your heart flutter. His small actions would have you feeling wanted.

But you would always tell yourself that he was just doing it out of kindness because you both were friends. You knew that he would never hold any sort of romantic feelings for you because if Namjoon could fake it, he had the ability to do the same.

As Yoongi was brushing your hair, you are sitting in between his legs on the floor while he was sitting on the couch. Supernatural was playing on Netflix, your favorite show besides Spongebob, in the background. The both of you were silent, enjoying the silence that was in the air. There was an occasional yelp from you whenever Yoongi would accidentally tug to hard on a knot, only for him to apologize several times, asking if you were okay. You would reassure him by saying that you were okay and that he does not need to be freaking out over such a thing. After that, silence would once fill the air again.

Once Yoongi was done brushing your hair, he would reach over the arm rest to the small coffee table besides the couch to grab the coconut oil so he could put it into your hair. You never questioned his actions, nervous to run the quiet, reserved man, off. Everyone knew that Yoongi has never been a fan of explaining himself when he does something caring, so you did not want to make him uncomfortable. When Yoongi was done putting the coconut oil into your hair, he did not get up this time. This time, he stayed sitting on the couch, confusing you greatly. Because whenever he was done with your hair, he would get up and move to a different spot onto the couch to give you space. You would never tell him that you found comfort whenever he was sitting behind you, not wanting to make things awkward. You cannot live with yourself if you lost Min Yoongi. He is the only person that you basically have left. Of course, you had your parents back home, but they never were a fan of Kim Namjoon, and you had to find out the hard way on why. So, when they found out about you two getting married, they never gave you their blessings and support – they did not even show up to the wedding.

“You’re getting your color back,” Yoongi commented, hinting at your now not as pale skin color. From Yoongi’s help and persistence, you began to get rid of the deathly pale color. You also were gaining some weight back, something that made Yoongi incredibly happy.

Looking down at your uncovered legs, you had to admit that he was right. You do not look like a ghost anymore, “huh, you’re right.”

The pale boy scoffed, “Of course I’m right, I’m a genius after all.” He teased, tone cocky.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a small laugh. “Sure, you are.”

It was quiet once again, only for the sounds from Dean sassing Zacharia.

“The boys are wondering how you are, the Maknae line bugging me about seeing you.” Yoongi randomly said, playing with your hair. “They miss you, so does Jin and Hoseok. They all want to know how you are doing. I don’t tell them anything besides telling them that I saw you. I figured you would like to keep that private.” He explained, rambling a little bit.

“Oh, they miss me?” You questioned, surprise evident in their tone. “I thought they would not like me anymore because of what happened…”

“Y/N, we all hate Namjoon for what he did to you. They don’t consider him as a friend once they found out about his affair with that bitch. Once I found out when he first started the affair, I hated him and lost all respect that I had for him,” Yoongi bluntly explained, “what he did to you is sick. You gave him your everything and he just toyed with you. You deserve someone who loves you unconditionally. Someone who takes care of you when you’re sick and when you are happy. Someone who will be by your side through everything. Not someone who runs off when things get hard and messy. Not someone who is a coward.” Only if you knew that he was talking about himself in that moment.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, knowing that everything that Yoongi had just said is true. But you wished that it was Namjoon. You thought that he was the one. Afterall, he was your first official relationship, so you had no idea what to do in that moment. All of those other people were flings or fuck buddies since you were too busy with school to even think about a relationship, that was until you met Kim Namjoon.

“I know, but I don’t want that anymore. How am I supposed to know that they actually care and love me? How am I supposed to know that they are being honest and not just toying with me? I won’t be able to, Yoongi. I didn’t know that Namjoon was just staying out of pity and regretting marrying me. I’m just someone who is not worth loving.” You mumbled, a sob taking over your body. Everything is hitting you all at once.

Yoongi watched you break down right in front of him. The person who held his heart in his hand for almost a decade break in front of him, making him feel completely helpless. These past eight years he regrets introducing you and Namjoon at the party he threw. That night he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, but never did once he saw you and Namjoon interact. He knew right then and there that you had fell for him because he knew that look in your eyes. That look that said that you were attracted to someone. Then he had to watch you and Namjoon get married right in front of his eyes. Ever since then, he had to keep you at an arm's distance, knowing that he will do something that will destroy his relationship with both you and Namjoon. But once he found out about Namjoon’s affair, he had to step in. He had to get you to leave Namjoon, but your denial about him doing such a thing and belief that Namjoon still loving you killed him. He wanted to scream ‘I love you, Y/N!’ ‘I’m the one! I would never do that to you!’ but he held himself back. And once he found out about the divorce, he knew that this was his second chance to make you his. And right now, this very moment is his chance.

“But you are worth loving.” Yoongi stated, moving your hair out of your face so he could look at you in the eyes.

You look so beautiful.

“No I am not, Yoongi. If I am, why would someone just leave me if I am worth loving?” You laughed bitterly, breaking Yoongi’s heart.

“Because I love you, Y/N!” Yoongi claimed, voice raised, scaring you a little bit. “I’ve loved you ever since I met you in that stupid Humanities class where we had to do that stupid project with one another. Even when you were with Namjoon, I still loved you. I never stopped. Seeing you like this, so broken, it makes me want to kill Namjoon for what he has done to you. I want to show you that you are someone that is loved, someone that is worth fighting for. You are so beautiful, Y/N, and I will show you if you allow me too. I want to show you that you are worth it. I want to show you the things that Namjoon never showed you.” Yoongi was determined, something that Yoongi hardly shows because he hates showing his sentimental side.

His words had you stunned because the person who has been in your life for a long time, someone you that you thought that was the last person to ever hold such feelings for you, claim that he does in fact love you, was astonishing. Of course, you always had a crush on Min Yoongi, you just do not know that you could handle a relationship right now.

“Yoongi…” you began, seeing his face fall breaking your heart. “I never knew you felt like that,” you said honestly.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend at my party where you met Namjoon, but I didn’t once I saw you two talking to one another,” Yoongi shrugged, trying to hide his nervousness.

“I do like you,” you ignored said party and said person, “but I cannot do a relationship right now. But I do want to try things, but I just don’t want to lead you on or hurt you,” you explained honestly. You do not know what you would do if you lost Yoongi or hurt him.

“I will wait for you, Y/N. please believe me on that,” Yoongi begged, wanting you to believe him and see that he is not like Kim Namjoon.

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. You believe that he will get bored of you after a while, seeing that you are helpless case.

*********

Each day, Min Yoongi showed you that he is willing to wait until you feel sure that you were ready to give a relationship a chance. He proved to you by taking care of you like he has been for the last three months. He made you feel loved and wanted in his own way. He would bring you your favorite flower each time that he got off work along with some take out. He would make you laugh and smile any chance that he could get. Whenever you were feeling down and hopeless, he would hug you and stay with you for the whole night, not getting any sleep even though he had work that next morning. The one thing that he would do was give you one compliment on how and why you were beautiful. After that, he would focus on such things, talking about how it makes you so beautiful and why it is apart of you. He would do all of the things that Namjoon never did – like Yoongi had promised.

But you were still scared.

You were scared that Yoongi was going to do the same thing that Namjoon had done to you. You were scared that you would lose the one person that you care most about. You were scared to lose Min Yoongi because of you not being good enough for him. You did not want to lose yourself even more like you have because of Kim Namjoon.

It was hard. It was hard to not to fall in love with Min Yoongi. You have always been a person who loves so easily, and you hate that about yourself because you find yourself finding solace in him. He brings you so much comfort and love and happiness that you find yourself steadily falling for him, something that you do not want to do. And he knows that, because Min Yoongi is not a blind man. He knows you so well that you hate it. You hate how he knows all of your little quirks, habits, and thoughts. He reads you like an opened book that he is addicted to and you can read him like an open book, too.

But you are scared that one day, he is going to read too much that he realizes that you are boring and bland. That is what Namjoon had done. He read so much that he eventually gave up on you and decided to cheat and fall out of love with you so quickly. What if Yoongi does the same?

You tell yourself that you need to get over your fear and go for it. So, you try. You try because you do not want to be living in fear that everyone will be just like Namjoon. You try because you know that if you keep living in fear, you will be pushing everyone away, only hurting yourself more in the long run. You try because you know Yoongi. You know the real Yoongi because the past month he has proven to you that he is dedicated to you. Of course, you are very scared, you always will be, but then again, love is supposed to be scary. Right now, you do not love Min Yoongi since love is something that develops over time, but you do know that you will love him soon.

That is why, you agree to go on a date with Yoongi.

Yoongi takes you out to the plaza on this chilly November night to look at all the Christmas decorations and the pretty lights that have been hung up all around the plaza. You are dressed in black leggings with your white Uggs, white snow jacket, and a white beanie. You only have on mascara and chap-stick, and Yoongi swears that you are the most beautiful human being that he has ever seen. The whole time, Yoongi keeps you by his side, his arm wrapped around your waist. To him, and to you too, it feels so natural to be tucked into his side. It feels so good and it makes your heart flutter each time you step away to get a closer look at a decoration only for him to pull you back in. It makes you feel so good, so happy and calm.

As you and Yoongi were walking around the pond that was in the middle of the plaza, Yoongi pulled you close to him, his body towering over yours. “Thank you for agreeing to go on this date with me,” Yoongi shyly thanked.

“Did you think that I wouldn’t?” You questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Well, yeah,” Yoongi chuckled, “you turned me down a few times already.”

“True, but I wasn’t ready at the time. Now I am,” you admitted, beginning to get nervous.

You could see the surprised look on the pale man’s face, making you chuckle. Realization then made its way onto his face, understanding what your words meant. A huge gummy grin took over his face, making it hard for you to not smile too. In one motion, he leaned down, cupping your chubby cheeks into his hands and he placed his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow, calm, but also needy. Yoongi kissed you as if you were his life support; wanting to get a taste of you one last time before your disappeared. The kiss was so overwhelming that it made you cry. You have never felt this type of passion and love from someone in so long that it was foreign to you, and Yoongi could sense that. He moved his hands from your face, placing them on your waist to pull you close to him. eventually, the both of you had to breath, so you both broke apart, but only to rest your foreheads against one another.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for years,” Yoongi admitted, a smile on his face. He swooped down to place another kiss on your lips, laughing when he saw you chase after his lips with your eyes closed. “You’re so beautiful.”

Blushing, you hide your face in his chest, breathing in his cologne and natural scent. It was like home to you. “Thank you, Yoongi. For everything.”

“I know that it is going to take time, and I understand. I just want you to know that I will wait for you and will go step by step until you’re comfortable. I am not going anywhere.” He promised, each word spoke with honesty.

Nodding your head, the burden of nerves on your shoulder now gone. Yoongi rested his cheek on top of your head, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The both of you knew that things will take time to heal. The good thing is, though, is that the both of you will work with each other on this. Yoongi knew that it is going to be hard getting your ability to trust and not question everything, especially questioning yourself worth, but he is willing to do anything to prove to you that you are worth it.

Love takes time, and Yoongi is willing to take however long to prove to you that you are worth loving.

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stonyiscanon · 4 years

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socially awkward! peter parker x oblivious shit! reader

read: peter has a heart attack every time he talks to you because you’re too pretty and nice oof

lmfao just experimenting some new head canon//writing styles lmk what you guys think 🥺

it’s essentially a crack fic i have no regrets.

Warnings: an excessive amount of exclamation points used, overload of fluff, it might be little TOO crack-y if that’s even possible for me, a confusing amount of POV switches. ok it’s just shitty writing would you please read it.

Words: 4.8k this be a baby fic

Genre: fluffity fluff, idiots to lovers, high school! reader, god just read the title.

my masterlist is here if you want more shit

talk to me! be my friend please im lonely

peter first meets you when you’re new to midtown and you get sorted into his science class.

you sat in front of him your very first day and yeah he’s been soft™ for you ever since

like no joke the first time he saw your face he freezed up and choked on his banana

‘oh nO NED!!! she’s PRETTY!!’

‘like, REALLY pretty!!! S H I T’

‘um,,... okay ain’t that a good thing you sit behind her in class!! maybe you can ask for her number or something—‘

oh hohohohoho ned my friend,,

N O

ABSOLUTELY NOT

peter parker has spoken to you a total of twenty-two (22) times within the whole year that you’ve been... acquaintances?? classmates?? ….. friends???

and his fat secret crush on you will STAY A SECRET THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

he’ll die before he asks you out or makes a move because there’s no way in hell peter has a chance with you, the beautiful new girl.

‘i mean, she’s not just beautiful too! she’s so smart, and i know that because i can literally see all her notes from behind her and she gets like, basically all A’s, but she doesn’t even know she’s smart and beautiful?? like, she never raises her hand in class even though i know she knows all th-’

you would think ned would be tired of peter’s ‘shit I’m in LOVE’ rants by now, he’s not because we stan supportive friend ned.

hehe little does he know his big fat secret crush may not be,, totally unrequited

👀

oKAY so maybe you have a humongous tiny crush on the dorky cute guy who sits behind you in science class

WHAT ABOUT IT not like he likes you back anyways.

that one time you asked him for a pencil he looked like he was having an aneurysm!! like okay, are you that hideous or—?

(yeah it totally doesn’t hurt at all that the cute guy you like is repulsed by your presence and seems to ignore you and tense up whenever you’re around)

(t o ta ll y) 🤡

yeah y/n kinda dumb in this because the entire student body knows about peter’s (not so secret lmFAO) crush on you

everyone lOwkEy ships it

ned is president of the petery/n shipper fanclub

that may be because he’s the only member in aforementioned fanclub but you two have many supporters outside the fanclub

ned hypes peter up everytime science class comes around and peter gets kinda confident when he walks in the classroom

‘yeah! i got this!! maybe this time i won’t stare at her hair creepily and then run aw-‘

‘hey peter!’

asjkdjejnxHAUXINENEIAIRJBSJS

ABORT NEVERMIND I DONT GOT THIS ASKXISNNDKSN

peters brain has left the building

and he kinda stares at you for a sec and runs off to his seat at the back

hm, yeah he definitely doesn’t like you

you sigh as you take your seat in front of him, trying to ignore how your love for this dork is completely one sided

the entire class wants to throttle both of you

so then for the sake of the cliche and the plot (did you heart that fourth wall break?? nvm i didn’t hear nothin)

gasp group project time??!?!?!?!

dang who could have saw this coming

totally unexpected

wow

peter is half hoping to get you and half DREADING to

because he knows if he gets you he’ll be able to spend time with you but 300% won’t be able to function and will most certainly fail this project

but i mean who cares about grades.

in a plot twist that literally no one saw coming,,,

‘betty and liz, you’ll be doing yours on atomic structure,

and peter and y/n are partners! you’ll be doing...’

oh nO

you’re partnered up with peter!

i mean this is great news you get to stare at his precious face more but you’re basically forcing him to spend time with someone he doesn’t like!!

so you turn around and you give him an apologetic and (cute as FXCK) small smile

meanwhile, peter combusts

one look at your smile and he just knows he’s completely fucked

like he physically uwus so hard he slams his head on the table

‘oh! are.. you okay? i mean, is working with me really going to be that bad?’

awkward laugh to hide the pain,, quick y/n!!

‘nO!! i mean, no, absolutely not that’s not what i- it wasn’t my- i didn’t m-‘

you smile a little sadly this time and say,

‘don’t worry about it, i know you don’t like me. it’s only two weeks anyway. i promise i won’t take much of your time.’

wait. hold up. back up here. wha-? wHO doesn’t like W HO??

‘wait what do you mea-‘

‘don’t worry about it. wanna meet at the library after school to get a head start on this?’

‘uh, yeah. i mean- cowabunga…!’

wat

shit peter has never wanted to die more in his entire life

so he does what any other normal person would do and yEEts out the classroom full speed

leaving you slightly hurt but mostly just confused

peter strolls in the library casually attempting to strain his neck 360 degrees to look for you

he looks like a chicken and also that’s humanly impossible but leave him be he’s iN LOVE

he spots you on one of the study tables. he takes a deep breath,, and walks over

‘hey!! sorry i’m a little late, uh, something… came up haha’

acting like the poor boy didn’t stand outside the library for fifteen minutes thinking about what he was going to say to you

‘no worries!’ you shoot him another one of those painfully adorable smiles and peter wants nothing more but to give that smile a smooch because damn that is a face that deserves smooches

but he also has a tiny feeling that maybe you might not appreciate it if he randomly kissed you out of nowhere

(you would not mind at all but he doesn’t know that)

‘so yeah! ready to compare the wonders of chemistry and motion physics?’ peter says, bending down to snatch his backpack up to the table (effectively hiding his red cheeks)

you snort as you prop your elbows onto the table, resting your head on your hands.

‘the wonders? hm, i really can’t tell whether you’re being serious or not. guess you really are a dork.’

you giggle a little bit before you catch sight of peter looking like a gaping fish. you immediately slam your hands down, perhaps a little too loudly considering you’re in a library, and blurt out,

‘uh, I was.. joking! making a joke, in case, you know, that wasn’t obvious.’ You awkwardly hide your face between your fingers and squeak out a small apology

‘nO! no, no, don’t worry about it. yeah, I am a dork, so… yeah, i’m not offended, or anything. uh- just, yeah, don’t worry about it.’

well, that ruined the flow of conversation peter was so desperate to keep up with

none of you speak for a bit, opting to look around the very interesting library walls instead, until peter clears his throat and brings up motion physics again

yeah! this will be fine. all you have to focus on is science, and NOT peter’s very soft kissable lips and how good he looks in his light green coloured sweater

huh

oh no

desperately attempting to clear your mind, you try and focus on what he’s saying instead

it’s just SCIENCE, y/n. focus on the SCIENCE.

this distraction just-concentrate-on-the-work technique works for about the next hour or so as you guys study and work on this project

everything is going great!

you two have an organised google doc full of research and a finished introduction! you’re being extremely productive!

both of you are doing an amazing job at hiding your mutual (except none of you know it’s mutual) attraction!

so as you walk out the library beside peter some time later, you’re smiling softly, because even if your massive crush isn’t reciprocated, you and peter can maybe at least be friends by the end of this, right?

he didn’t even look like he detested you as much as usual today

maybe that’s because he was pretty much forced into cooperating with you because of this project, but you even caught him smiling at you today, so he must be warming up to you

which is great news, of course

peter swallows down his fear and the excessive amount of spit that is coating his tongue and turns to you

‘so, this was really fun’

you tilt your head, mildly horrified at his words

‘we need to stage you an intervention if a science project is something you classify as ‘fun’’

‘no, i mean, the science was kinda boring. spending time with you was really fun. ….right?’

oh good, he isn’t actually a complete monster who does science for fun

(he totally is but you don’t need to know that)

‘yeah! hanging out was really fun, even if we had to spend that time doing work’

you shudder and cringe when you mention ‘work’, because there are much more interesting things you’d rather be doing with peter

👀

‘yep.’

‘yeeep.’

‘so, we should meet up again to work on this… project. right?’ you’re shifting your weight and darting your eyes across the floor, desperately avoiding peter’s gaze.

‘yeah!!’

oof maybe that was a little too enthusiastic. maybe you didn’t notice?

‘i mean, yeah… yeah, totally. sounds… chill.’

oh god that’s worse isn’t it

‘great!’

cue awkward silence

‘so… um… can I maybe have your number?’

you stare blankly at him trying to conceal your excitement because did PETER PARKER just ask for YOUR number?!?!?!

oh no why aren’t you saying anything crapcrapcrap this is peter’s first time asking for ANYONE’S number did he mess up oh no he messed up didn’t he.

‘you know, for the project!!!!! haha!!!!’

oh. of course he wouldn’t actually want your number

*sigh these oblivious fucks I stg i’m the one who’s actually writing this and I want to throttle them*

‘oh… yeah, no problem! um, here’s my number’

‘cool! i’ll text you then!’

from peter p [12:48]

Hey y/n!! Um this is Peter btw. Peter Parker. From science class.

to peter p [12:49]

hey peter!

from peter p [12:49]

So if it’s cool w u do you want to meet up at my place? For the project haha, just figured a change of scenery might be nice. The library can get a little bit boring sometimes.

to peter p [12:49]

yeah sounds cool just send me ur address and i’ll be over after skl tdy if that’s ok

from peter p [12:50]

Yep awesome see u then

to peter p [12:50]

see u! :))

that smiley face almost makes his heart burst god he’s so whipped for you.

then the panic kicks in.

‘OHMYGOD Y/N Y/L/N IS COMING OVER.’

peter spends like three hours making sure the apartment is SPOTLESS.

spends like half an hour trying to decide whether he should take down all the Star Wars memorabilia down from his walls

like, he doesn’t want you to think he’s a DORK.

(too late peter)

but then ultimately keeps them up, partly because shit you’re coming in like 5 minutes he doesn’t have time for this

but also, you’re a nice person! you surely won’t make fun of him for having a knockoff replica of the death star in his room.

hopefully

oh god if you make fun of him for being a Star Wars nerd he will break down in tears HE HAS TO TAKE THEM DOWN

*ding*

fuck

peter stands up from his spinney chair abruptly and scrambles towards front door.

he spent some time this morning with Aunt May for girl advice and nothing really came out of that except a very traumatizing safe sex talk and some teasing that he will never be able to erase from his memory.

he takes a fast detour and quickly stops in front of the bathroom mirror on his way to open the door, desperately trying to tame the mop of curls and his head.

did I put on deodorant this morning? crap I brushed my teeth right?

*ding*

FUCK

peter stops in front of the door, takes a deep breath and-

‘hey!’ a strangled greeting comes out of his throat but hopefully you don’t notice how nervous he is.

you don’t, because this is oblivious shit!reader

‘hi peter!’

peter is suddenly very aware of how long you have been standing outside.

‘oH! sorry, um come in!!’ he says, opening the door wider and welcoming you in with (overly?) enthusiastic arms.

‘yeah! make yourself at home and everything. you want a drink or something?’

‘water would be nice.’

peter sprints to the kitchen to get you some ICE COLD water in his favourite mug.

peter parker’s apartment is covered with cosy furniture and photos of him and another middle aged woman. half those photos are him and that woman smiling brightly into the camera.

there’s a photo that’s nicely framed above the mantle that shows a young peter beaming in front of a birthday cake, with that same woman and another unknown middle aged man smiling down at him. the photo is clearly old and crumpled, even with the frame around it.

peter looks so happy in that photo…

huh. baby peter is just as adorable as he is now.

you jump away from the photo when you hear his footsteps coming back into the living room. something about the photo seemed emotional, personal. it just didn’t seem like something you should be looking at.

peter comes back clutching two mugs and hands one to you.

‘nice place!’

‘oh, thanks… yeah my Aunt isn’t home right now, she’s downtown meeting some friends, so we have the place to ourselves……’

‘so we can study uninterrupted.’ he says.

oh of course, studying!! yep that’s exactly where your mind went when peter said the apartment was empty aHaH.

peter’s room is a little less adult than the rest of his apartment, flooded with polaroids of him and Ned, with Star Wars posters on the walls.

you ignore the pang of jealousy that you feel when you spot a photo of MJ and peter grinning in front of a bowling alley.

so for the next two hours you two are in peter’s room… studying vigorously.

you would be 100% lying if you said you weren’t disappointed only studying happened.

the weird thing is???

every time you would look down at your textbook to explain something about periodic motion peter seemed to be looking at you when you looked up?

well, looking at you isn’t very weird, looking at someone while they’re talking is just basic manners. but when you looked back he would snap his eyes straight back to his own textbook, nodding and wordlessly agreeing with whatever you had just said.

maybe it’s just your imagination but the way he looked at you, it’s almost a loving, caring gaze.

oh god who are you kidding, it’s just your brain and imagination playing tricks on you.

you’re alone with peter parker in his bedroom!! these things are going to happen!

‘hey you want to take a break? we’ve been going at this for a whole hour now.’ peter says, craning his neck to take a look at the clock on the wall.

‘has it really been a whole hour?’ you lean back in your chair looking up at the ceiling.

‘yeah okay. let’s have a small break then.’

peter picks up both of your mugs and heads off to the kitchen, groaning slightly when he stretches his legs out for the first time in an hour.

*a/n: apologies in advance to those with nut allergies*

he comes back with both your mugs refilled with (water for you, gatorade for peter) and a small bag of almonds for you to snack on.

‘oh hey! almonds are my study snack of choice too!’

‘yeah, i know’ peter says carelessly, scrolling down his phone.

‘i don’t like almonds all that much, but i bought a few packs this morning on the way to school.’

hm,, wHat

‘if… you don’t like almonds why would you get them for me?’

‘because you like almonds.’

blink.

b l i n k

it takes a bit of time for peter to realise what just came out of his mouth.

‘i meAn! I’M NOT A STALKER I SWEAR. i just see you at school sometimes and you always have a small pack of these to snack on whenever you’re doing work so i thought,, you know, since we’re doing WORK, i should buy some for you… so you won’t get hungry!!!’ he’s wailing nonsensical excuses and apologies by now.

huh.

peter parker knows that you snack on almonds when you study, and bought a pack for you even though he doesn’t like them at all.

maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

you tear apart the packaging and stuff an almond in your mouth, your traitorous lips slowly threatening to curl into a huge smile.

(despite how much you fight against it, you end up with a slightly demonic looking huge smile on your face, which you attempt to hide by stuffing more almonds in your mouth)

(you now look like a chipmunk)

(but a cute one!!!!)

meanwhile peter is trying to hide the feeling of humiliation by resting his face in his hands, because he literally just exposed himself. he will not be able to take it if he looks back up at your face and you’re laughing at him for this stupid crush.

to his surprise, he does not look up to find you mocking his love for you, but instead, he finds you with a mouth full of almonds, struggling to chew and swallow them all without looking like a disgusting fool.

oh.

that’s kinda cute.

after a good five minutes of you trying to force like 10 almonds down your esophagus, you clear your throat and awkwardly blurt out a ‘thank you’

‘for the almonds! it’s cute how you bought them for me because you knew how much i like to snack on them while i study. that’s really sweet of you. i guess you really don’t hate me all that much, huh?’ the last sentence comes out teasingly, a playful smile gracing your lips, but instead of uwu-ing over your cute smile, peter’s just confused.

‘why would i hate you?’ he says, his eyebrows laced together in confusion.

‘well, i always kinda got the impression that you didn’t like me… all that much? i never really knew why. hey, why did you hate me so much before this? if i accidentally did something at the start of the year that pissed you off, i’m sorry.’

your playful smile fades a little bit as you see peter basically collapse on himself just due to sheer GRIEVANCE.

‘WHY WOULD YOU THINK I HATED YOU?’ peter yells out, probably annoying the neighbours with how fucking loud he is, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care right now.

‘you… didn’t?’ you say, now becoming just as confused as peter.

he shakes his head aggressively, bringing his fingers up to his temples.

‘but… you always seemed so jumpy around me! and you would never really talk to me, and that one time i asked you for a pencil, you looked like you were dying or something! i always just thought you didn’t like me!’

god

peter doesn’t know whether he should be laughing or crying.

‘that’s not because I HATED YOU!! that’s because- i mean- i always thought-’ he’s still yelling and at this point one of the neighbours are definitely going to come knocking to complain, but peter still doesn’t care, because he’s currently having an existential crisis.

ohmygod all this time my CRUSH thought I HATED HER because I couldn’t function like a normal human being in front of her because of how much I liked her until i gave her some ALMONDS what is wrong with me? what kind of entity that controls the universe could hate me so much to pull THIS kind of sick prank on me?

‘wait if you didn’t hate me why would you always act so weird in front of me?’

‘BECAUSE-’ peter tangles his fingers into his hair, and he kicks his chair, sending it halfway across his room from frustration.

‘how could you possibly think I hated you??? how could you possibly think ANYONE could hate you??? you’re single handedly the only good person in this godforsaken school full of IDIOTS and BULLIES! nobody could ever hate you, y/n, and certainly not ME!’

perhaps he is using an excessive amount of hand gestures, but it gets his point across.

‘wha-? what do yo-?’

‘wHat are you TALKING ABOUT?’ you say, slowly turning just as frustrated as peter.

‘if there’s ANYONE that’s decent in this ‘godforsaken school full of idiots’ it would be YOU, peter parker!! nobody would just pay attention to what I EAT so I wouldn’t get HUNGRY during a study session oKaY!! you’re so CONFUSING! every time I accept the fact that you don’t like me back you pull this bullshit, essentially making me rethink ALL MY FEELINGS!’ you say, going through the room (stepping over the toppled chair), just to jab a finger onto peter’s chest.

suddenly both of you are aware of your flushed cheeks and your close proximity.

‘wha- WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?’ peter basically shrieks, and you would not be surprised if all of New York managed to hear that scream.

your cheeks darken as you awkwardly step back from him, realising that you accidentally outed yourself.

‘um- i mean,’ you stumble on the fallen chair as you desperately walk backwards with your hands behind your back to avoid peter’s piercing gaze.

*you’re not good at confrontation okay*

‘you like me?? wait wait, you like ME?’ you frown a little as you look at peter’s incredulous expression.

‘well yeah, you don’t have to rub it in like that, I know you don’t like me back.’ You mumble, looking away.

‘don’t like yo- OH MY GOD!’

this time peter stalks all the way across the room, looking you dead straight in the eye.

‘you better not be joking with me, y/n.’

you squeak out a small ‘no’ or something like that because you can’t really focus with peter looking down at you like that.

‘you mean to tell me, my stupid fat, nervous crush on you was mistaken for HATRED, and all this time I’ve been thinking I have no chance with you, but you’ve been crushing on me too all this time?’ his words come out jumbled, and a little fast, but you can decipher the general meaning.

peter parker likes you… too.

oh GOD WAT

he clears his throat, biting his lip and you can just tell he’s about to apologise, because peter’s a complete angel who probably doesn’t want you feeling uncomfortable.

‘um- uh, y- oomph!’

and in this shocking turn of events, you execute the only spontaneous thing you’ve ever done in your life and pray that it ends up well.

you lean forward and press your lips to peter’s, hoping to whatever superior being there is that this was a good decision.

spoiler alert: it was

peter.exe has shut down because all of a sudden your lips are against his and oh wow this is so much better than all those times he’s imagined it happening because it’s actually happening now.

your hands find their way to peter’s curls that he was trying so hard to get under control an hour ago but now he can’t remember why he doesn’t like his hair if it’s just going to be tugged on by you like this from now on.

he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer to him, pretty much pressing his body against yours.

not that you’re complaining.

and god if peter died from suffocation right now that would be a heavenly way to go, and he would be a-ok with dying if it meant finally being in your arms.

you pull away from peter, both of you slightly panting before you burst out in giggles, resting your head and letting it fall on peter’s shoulder.

‘oh my god, we’re such idiots, aren’t we?’

peter hums in agreement before lifting your chin up to kiss you again.

bonus: boyfriend! peter

definitely still stares at you in science class except now whenever you catch him staring he just shoots you a lazy grin

because yEa he has FULL RIGHTS to stare at you now because you’re his GIRLFRIEND.

you find out he’s spiderman pretty much immediately let’s be real this boy is not the best at hiding secrets

especially from his GIRLFRIENDS whomst he loves VERY MUCH.

this boy also gives you anxiety attacks whenever you see spiderman on the news saving people, getting hurt and shit, but he understands.

sends you a text before and after he gets in the suit whenever he can.

most certainly uses his spidey-powers for things they were not intended to be used for.

to visit his girlfriend so she can give him cuddles at any time why what were you guys thinking about hMmmMMMmmmM?

likes to show you off but also gets very blushy and shy about PDA

pretty much had a seizure the first time you held hands.

ned almost fainted when he heard the news (aka peter rushed to call him the second you left that night you kissed because these bitches are very gossipy)

peter parker is the ultimate clingy boyfriend.

……

and you love it.

your science teacher no longer puts you in the same group or partners you guys up now though.

because now you can’t study together, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other.

sometimes when peter is feeling ~particularly clingy he just nuzzles into the crook of your neck during lunch, and pulls you to him so you’re pretty much on his lap.

and MJ is just like yall r disgusTING

right in front of my salad.

in conclusion, peter parker loves you and you love him.

it’s honestly kind of sickening,

but you love that too.

36 notes · View notes

quincywillows · 5 years

Text

write, write, write: the “sprint” method

hello fellow writing compatriots in creative crime! i’ve been trying to figure out how i want to kickstart the major writing aspects of this blog, and i figured one of the best ways i could would be to share the writing method i’ve been utilizing for almost two years now known affectionately as “sprinting.”

i’ve shared this with a few of my writing friends and they’ve said it does wonders to help break writer’s block, and i know it has helped me get through some of my most difficult scenes and projects by breaking it down into manageable chunks without literally breaking the scene apart. i’m sure a method like this has existed many a time before, and i wouldn’t be so bold as to claim myself the sole divisor -- in fact, my own method was somewhat inspired by a method lauren graham referenced in her memoir, “talking as fast as i can.” so check that book out because it was a fun read, but also read on if you’re feeling frustrated or unproductive with your writing my friends. we shall tackle the struggle together!

the other really nice thing about sprints are that you can do them alone OR with a friend, and both methods are relatively effective. i tend to do sprints with my darling friend emma ( @stevesharrigton ), and the fun part about that is not only do you have someone actively writing with you so you don’t feel so alone in the process and have someone to bounce questions or brainstorm roadblock fixes with, but part of the process involves sharing your favorite part of what you just wrote so there’s immediate gratification and feedback which can help combat the overwhelming feelings of needing to “finish” something in the writing world to be at all acknowledged. so without further ado!

the sprint method in it of itself is actually very simple.

the goal of the sprint is to dedicate all of your concentration towards your wip for a little bit of time again and again until it builds up to a significant amount of effort without even realizing. emma and i always start with one 15 minute round, and usually on a good day we end up spending about 2 hours working on our projects without it feeling like so much at all.

firstly, choose your workspace, as well as set up your desktop / writing workspace. i recommend choosing locations where you feel comfortable writing (at this point i can write anywhere, but my bedroom used to be my sacred spot), and a place with limited distractions as that’s a big part of this methodology.

when it comes to setting up your writing workspace, what i mean by that is you want to create an environment with as little exterior distraction as possible. if you’re working on paper with pen, put all of your devices far away from you, like face DOWN on the table, or even all the way across the room so you’re not tempted to look at messages or scroll mindlessly. if you’re on desktop, you should have only two things open and active on your screen -- your wip document, and a “scratch” document (like notes or stickies, etc.).

set your amount of time for your “round.” this can change by round, but i usually start with 15 minutes, and then additional rounds range from anywhere from 15 - 30. for whatever amount of time you end up setting, you will only be focused on the document in front of you. the scratch doc is helpful for if you get other story thoughts and don’t want to forget them, or just want to write “AHHHHHHHH” for all 15 minutes. the point is you’re dedicating ALL your attention to your project for that time: no messaging, no tumblr, etc. give your devotion to that project! it deserves it, and so do you!

write, write, write. spend that set time doing what you said you would do when you set out to sprint -- writing. it doesn’t have to be brilliant, you don’t even have to make substantial progress. sprints are a no pressure entity, and their whole purpose is to put something on the page.

take note of your progress. see how many words you managed to write in that time allotment. if you’re writing with friends, share your word count. then, take a moment to find a piece of your work from that sprint that you are really proud of -- it can be a whole little exchange, or as minor as a word choice that just seems to really fit. this is where doing this method with friends is really fun, because each of you get to share your work with immediate reactions. it’s also a great way to support each other’s progress!

if you’re feeling energized, sprint again! keep sprinting until you run out of steam by doing those manageable 15 - 20 minute chunks.

if you’re thinking “but can i really disconnect for 15 minutes with no distraction??” trust me, i know its hard to believe, but you certainly can. if you’re worried about missing a text or someone getting worried, you can even explain to them that you’re writing for a set amount of time and won’t be available. writing is part of your day just like anything else -- no one will be upset with you if you dedicate some of your time to it!

all this to say, i will note that the sprint method will not magically fix writer’s block or feelings of ennui. you have to be willing to to try the method at all and actually commit to the rules: it’s guaranteed to be ineffective if you sit down to “sprint” and spend 10 of your 15 minutes looking at the phone that isn’t supposed to be part of your world for those 15 minutes, you know what i mean? if you give it your all and it just doesn’t work for you as a writer then that’s totally okay, but you’ll never know unless you truly try!

i’m personally one of those people who believes writer’s block is a myth blah blah blah, but whether that’s true or not, the thing that works about this method is just by putting SOMETHING down, you will already feel a lot better. the way that writer’s block and inactivity in writing is so effective at holding us back is because we get into cycles where the sheer act of writing again can feel intimidating because we haven’t done it for a hot minute. this method serves to break that by just encouraging bit by bit fixes. it won’t knock your mental block down like a sledgehammer, but rather tackles it brick by 15-minute brick.

okay now that i’ve rambled your ears off, crack those knuckles and let’s get writing!!! happy sprinting, y’all! :)

#writing #writing tips #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writerblr #writing gabs #maggie.txt #useresther #tuseremma #i hope this makes a shred of sense lmao #we love a sprint! we love a sprint!

515 notes · View notes

bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Photo

Freed up some time, actually! Gonna blog the new pages of HS^2. Liveblogging resume...

FYI, the post I glimpsed that alerted me to the fact that new pages exist had a translucent screenshot of Brain Ghost Dirk on it, so I know that at least is in store for me. Makes sense; a way to involve Dirk’s voice obnoxiously heavily even when he’s too far away to narrate. And ties into this... chapter(?) name, of course. Chapters, huh?

> CHAPTER 1. Ghostflusters

God. Damnit.

Could we NOT??? No?

Fuck you, Dirk. I blame you for this.

So we have greenery, a can-city and Sburb-legal human house mix... some sorta cow-looking thing from far away in the front yard...

The void resounds. Space seizes and warps as the bounds of relevance erode away to nothing but the wishful nostalgia of times passed. There is a hole in the middle of the universe, and it is hungry.

All very literally true.

But the denizens of this particular iteration of Earth C don’t know it. All of this is just business as fucking usual for a planet plagued by war, continuous inclement ghost weather, and the general malaise of being absolutely severed from canon.

--oh, FUCK. This isn’t the new planet, this is Candy timeline Earth. I didn’t wanna come back here! :C

I guess that explains most of the content warnings. Except fucking ALCOHOLISM. Gee, thanks for adding THAT to the Candy timeline, as if it wasn’t fucked over enough!!! Bluh.

I thought the closing lines of the Epilogue were that after RoboDave, Aradia and alt!Callie dove out of the Candyverse inside the singularity, the black-hole timelines and Dirk’s presumably-still-”relevant” nonsense weren’t going to collide with each other again? So... why are we seeing this? Is there going to be MORE influence like that, and the ending line was just fancy-talk? Is it just an irrelevant little follow-up to Candy to show things turning out okay or pseudo-okay, like an epilogue to the epilogue? Or is some of this Dirk nonsense presumably within the bounds of some sort of canon going to still have some last bit of influence on this so-called non-canon timeline?

That last one would make sense, given that it echoes how Homestuck^2′s dubious canonicity would still have definite influence on fanworks outside of canon. Right?

Let me pull that last line from the epilogues again--

...where’s the Epilogues’ log, this is getting kind of hard to find with all their reorganization... fuck, I had to guess at the URL even. Here we go, the last page of Meat...

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

...Right. This implies that Canon and Non-Canon shall never meet again. BOTH ways. Doesn’t quite gel with the fact that we’re cutting back here--

Oh.

This is about Jake and Brain Ghost Dirk isn’t it. I noticed his name down further on the page. THAT’S why we’re cutting back here.

So, Canon and Non-Canon aren’t exactly meeting... not for anything relevant, anyway. But we’re using Candy Jake’s visibility of Brain Ghost Dirk to get a better idea of Dirk’s broader self and plans through a splinter of him? While getting another glimpse into how the post-epilogue Candy timeline is going for our, er... “curiosity”? Is that it?

Hm. I guess that doesn’t count as the twain “meeting”... I’ll just keep reading now.

They spend their days absorbed in the petty and pointless pursuits of “having jobs” and “raising families” and “falling in love”.

Is this Dirk’s narrator voice? This sounds like something the current megalomaniacal Dirk would say.

I’m not going to quote the rest of the text’s further reminders of how Jane has been made into an absolutely fucked-over asshole in every timeline except the one where she grew old to open a Joke shop, adopt Dad, die, get prototyped and timeline-doubled, then mysteriously disappear from any mention in the Epilogues as if the Sprites were just forgotten about completely eventually.

> (==>)

Oooh, using the less-relevance-surrounding-parens that were used on retconned ghost!Vriska back in Homestuck proper to denote our presence in the non-canon Candy timeline? How handy!

Not a far-away cow, then.

John has been an incredible pal, opening up his home to Jake and his son on such short notice, and even offering him a pair of pants, as well as a shirt that he has so far neglected to put on.

Alright, that got a chuckle from me.

John’s house doesn’t have air conditioning.

What the flying fuck.

...Ah, John’s been away patching things up with Roxy some more, I presume.

It, like the rest of his assets, is in her name. She’d seen to that as soon as they were married.

Life players and assets, huh? Always gotta be hoggin’ em.

He hasn’t seen much of Tavros today either, but that’s not unusual. He’s probably out with his kismesis, the one he thinks Jake doesn’t know about.

Huh. Maybe Candy’s young Vriska? Couldn’t get the real Tavros with your main self, so your alternate nigh-clone self settled with a human by the same name? Or one of the other kids we heard of from this ‘verse..?

> (==>)

Jake’s hot man-bod cropped out of this image to avoid titillating my readers too much.

(Tumblr keeps jumping back to the top of my post after I add images and I keep thinking the title reads “Ghostfuckers”.)

Jake washes the dirt out from under his fingernails, and his eyes fall on the bottle still sitting on the counter. John had opened it, but together they’d barely touched the stuff. Jake had promised him and Tavvy he’d dry up his act and all, but... well.

God damnit. If this is still Dirk-voiced narration -- I’m not sure it can be, now I think about it, as he’s supposed to be “out of range” or something, unless non-canon is just malleable like that, which wouldnt be surprising (or Dirk’s splinter’s presence allows it) -- he could literally be inducing or writing in Jake’s drinking problem just to hurt him more. You can’t really put an overstep that assholish past Prince Dirk the way he’s gotten to be.

There was another ask in my inbox insisting that Dirk wasn’t going to stay the true villain here, if only as some sort of karmic revenge for declaring his self-importance... but I still don’t think that’s the case. For one, Dirk HASN’T declared himself the villain... he still can’t see how fucked-up and unjustified his trampling over of everyone’s wills IS. Shadows of recognition... but not really. He really honestly believes he has the fucking RIGHT to do what he’s doing.

(Which is, incidentally -- to answer another ask -- why there’s basically NO chance that Rose has some sort of control or recognition of her situation under the surface, and is playing Dirk, as another person hopefully surmised. No. She really IS being unknowingly steered away from personal growth and recognition of the thought-control she’s under... because nothing less could feel as horrible to us.)

Part of the entire POINT of Homestuck and its Riddle was to show that these crazy kids, if they put their wills to it, always had the potential to be the literal Gods of the world around them. That when ordinary people grasp the will and drive to shape the world around them, they can turn everything back from the brink of destruction... or vice versa. Thus, it’s only appropriate that a player from this game could become a villain more disgusting than any we’d imagined in the series so far. What he’s been doing -- writing twisted sorrow directly into the lives and experiences of those around him, nurturing their worst, most power-hungry tendencies (Rose) and deceiving them more directly than Doc Scratch (who was PART Dirk) ever did, making a JOKE of their free will in a more terribly direct way than ANY have been shown onscreen to do?? It IS, and is MEANT to be, the worst we have EVER seen in Homestuck. Not as clumsy and from-the-outside as Lord English, but just as blatantly direct. Not as easy to ignore or mistake as Doc Scratch’s horrible, intentional Prince-of-Hearty worsening of the players, instead just as impossible to gloss-over as it is to bear witness to. That very TITLE, “Prince of Heart”, can embody the very ANTITHESIS of the Ultimate Riddle itself, robbing EVERYONE of their ability to shape not just the world around them, but even so much as themselves or their very thoughts. When used the way Dirk is using it RIGHT NOW, anyway. And his ambition is to impose this on all of Paradox Space.

There COULD be another villain, later. But I can’t imagine a single one more appropriate. And Andrew’s just the type to use one of the Striders, both practically self-inserts of parts of his personality and presence, as that ultimate villain to be overcome in a story about escaping Canon, too.

Turning his ex into an alcoholic just for his own self-satisfaction? In a side timeline where Jake didn’t even try a relationship with him again and finally had a chance to grow up happy in SOME universe? I wouldn’t put it past him, and you shouldn’t either.

Moving on.

> (==>)

Eugh. I just... don’t want to think about him being an alcoholic on TOP of everything else. As if there wasn’t enough to deal with in Candy already.

> (==>)

Hm?

> (==>)

The jungle air is heavy, humid, and familiar. Twenty years on and the thick drag into his lungs settles on him in a blanket of nostalgia, reassuring in its discomfort.

Hm. Is this his fantasy, or a view of him in another timeline?

He is deeper in the jungle than he’d ever venture in his waking hours. There were places on his island that not even his Gran would tread, and she’d been the bravest person he’d ever known.

Hmm. So he even knows it’s a dream, but is still in control...

Jake doesn’t recognize anything. The jungle of his dreams is wild and unknown, and there are things moving in the dense undergrowth.

...Hhhuh. Still not sure what to think of this yet.

A sudden wind thrashes the canopy. There are pine needles in his mouth. There aren’t any pine needles in the jungle.

Very Dream, then.

> (==>)

--Yup.

> (==>)

Yoink--

> (==>)

JAKE: Yes you are i know that much. I saw your body! I carried your coffin chock full of all those stupid fucking swords! DIRK: Nope. JAKE: Dont nope me mister!

They would pile all those shitty swords into his coffin, yeah.

Anyway, now to see how much Prince Dirk is in this Dirk. And if he’s in one mind with himself or has the slightest chance of feeling rebellious.

JAKE: I know a dead dirk when i see one! DIRK: Sure you do. But that wasn’t me. Are you really surprised to find out I got a couple of spares? JAKE: So what youre saying is you arent my dirk. DIRK: ...That is a whole ‘nother conversation that we really don’t have time for, pertaining to exactly who or what ‘your dirk’ actually constitutes. DIRK: Do you mean the Dirk from your timeline? DIRK: Then yes, that Dirk is dead. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you fucked and then ghosted, no, I’m not your Dirk. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you felt closest to, that you really knew--

...well, this Dirk still knows how to be a presumptuous, pushy creep. :(

JAKE: Ahhh! Brain ghost dirk! DIRK: In the ghosty flesh. JAKE: Crumbs bro where have you been? JAKE: I could have used someone on my side! JAKE: You just disappeared one day without even the odd toodaloo to mark your passing! DIRK: That isn’t strictly true. I did disappear, but it was in a catastrophic blaze of hope-drenched pathos. I even threw out a couple one-liners. DIRK: But you wouldn’t remember that. JAKE: Because...it was a different dirk? DIRK: No, a different Jake.

Hhhuh. So in the claymation-reproduced Lord English stagefight -- or, maybe more likely, the pre-retcon Aranea-induced Game Over timeline -- he was too washed out by hopesplosions to manifest properly?

DIRK: Until recently there’s been a shortage of ambient narrative relevance for Dirks, since one particular motherfucker has been sucking it all up like a thirsty little twink at his first interspecies rave.

Hm! So Prince Dirk has been making it so other splinters of himself have really limited ability to influence, huh? Guess that’s a sort of price for the narrative-hijacking power he’s attained. Wonder how this Dirk really feels about that.

> (==>)

--Pff. He’s certainly not shy about letting Jake know he shouldn’t trust him, though! That’s a good sign.

I’ll split the post here for a bit. Seems we’re about halfway through this upd8 from the look of the log.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots

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icedcappujaeno · 6 years

Text

11: with Ten

“That’s exactly what a gang member would say.”

genre: doctor!au

words: 3.5k

pair: Ten & reader

warnings: language, reader being pretentious lmao

( a/n: another request! this time, it was a doctor!au with our beloved Ten. i honestly had a hard time writing him so from the bottom of my heart i am sorry. )

Being a new resident pediatrician at the new hospital you’re working was quite a struggle, but you weren’t complaining about it.

You knew the consequences of transferring to another workplace: it is harsh - everyone will look down on you unless you prove something worthwhile to your new colleagues. It’s not that the staff and your fellow doctors aren’t being welcoming, but - it’s in human nature. You’re new to their eyes, new to the atmosphere, so they’re still on the phase where they’re still evaluating you – a prey to the predators.

The whole concept was not new to you. You’ve been assigned to different hospitals back in your junior and senior internship, adjusting in no time would be no problem at all.

Just don’t mess up anything.

But that’s exactly what you did.

Doctor Chittaphon stood there, frozen, looking down at his white coat – covered in patches of brown from the coffee he’s holding…which you bumped straight into.

His jaw was dropped while his eyebrows were furrowed, a clear sign how irritated he was. His hands were still raised, one with the now lessened amount of coffee in a cup in the right, the other, the charts of the patients’ records.

There was nothing but a bunch of ‘sorry’ was the only thing coming out of your lips as your tried to wipe the stains away with your handkerchief, but the cloth of his white coat had already absorbed the liquid.

It was an accident, on your point of view. It was time for your rounds and you still have a clinic to attend to, so you need to be brisk. Time is gold. That was a golden rule, especially in your profession.

But it happened suddenly - you were about to go out of the quarters and didn’t notice the person coming in as you were checking in your phone the progress of your patients’ prognosis which was texted to you last night. That’s when you bumped straight into Doctor Chittaphon – who was a colleague of yours, another resident pediatrician – and spilled the contents of his venti americano on his white coat, which you miraculously managed to dodge.

Few minutes have passed until he spoke, and you know the smile forming on his lips was not anything positive. His eyes were still focused on the brown patches of coffee on his coat.

“Good morning, Doctor (Y/N),” he said, gritting his teeth. You looked up to him and crumpled your now stained handkerchief and smiled apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Chittaphon, I swear I didn’t mean it,” you blurted. “I had to admit I wasn’t looking at where I was going, but, well, you are too, so I think we’re both to blame in this accident?”

Chittaphon took a few steps until he reached the nearest table to place his cup of americano and metal chart down, then took off his white coat. You saw tiny patches of brown staining on his blue button up shirt as well. His eyes were truly threatening behind those slick, black frames, and he sat on one of the chairs.

“And I still have to do rounds,” he sighed, pinching the bridges of his nose while his brows were remained furrowed. “God damn it. What a pain,” he said, throwing his coat in the hamper, which made one of your brows raised. “I only brought one with me.”

You were so confused. “What does that have to do with your rounds? You could just say an accident happened.”

“Actually,” he stood, towering over your smaller figure and you could tell, the smile etching on his lips was not genuine. “I had to go somewhere after my supposed duties for today, but I can’t go now because of these stains, thanks to you,” pointing out to the stains.

You scoffed (it occurred naturally, even the situation wasn’t calling you to do it), with matching roll of your eyes. Your hands grabbed the patients’ charts he was holding along with yours and turned away, the sound of your heels clicking as you walk down the hallway.

A hand grabbed your arm which made you turn, and it was Doctor Chittaphon, an eye brow raised in your direction.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m doing your rounds,” you replied, trying to let go of his grip. “You could go home and take the day off and I’ll just say I filled in for your duty today,” there was a tone of irritation in your voice, but the guilt of ruining his day just because of a petty accident (which you conclude he’s going to be dramatic about) was tripping you. “Do you have any endorsements, Doctor Chittaphon?”

His face seemed to lighten up as his smile was curving upwards and his lips was stretching to smile wide. He loosened his grip around your arm and put his hands on his pants’ pockets.

“Well, there is none, all of their information is written on the charts,” he pointed out to the metal clipboard in your hand. “Most of my patients are running with diarrhea anyway, just keep them in IV and hydrated – well, I think you know that.”

“I do,” you scoffed, for the second time around.

You want to wipe off the smug-looking grin on his face as he was explaining those to you, but you don’t want to be assertive no further - you don’t really know how this colleague of yours work, and a single move might ruin the good reputation you’re building so far.

“If that’s all then okay, Doctor Chittaphon. I’ll be going now. If you ever forgot some endorsements, then you can ask for my number at the main nurse station and message me the details.”

With one last look at him and his smug face he’s making (which you want to punch so bad), you walked away to start your doubled duty for today.

“I’m called Doctor Ten by the kids, too!” you heard him shout, but you just rolled your eyes.

Later that tiring day, when you’re about to clock out, you received a text notification from no other than the devil himself.

from: Dr. Chittaphon

[ Thanks doc 😘😘 I’d be more than glad if you spilled coffee on my coat again 😉 ]

You groaned, scratching your head a little violently in annoyance.

“Ah, fuck you Ten!!!”

to: Dr. Chittaphon

[ I’d be more than glad to punch you in the face Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul 🖕 ]

from: Dr. Chittaphon

[ that’s so pro of you 😛😘 ]

▫▫▫▫▫

When you opened the door to your quarters one night for your night shift, you met eye to eye with the person you want to see the least.

It was Chittaphon.

He was grinning ear to ear when he looked at you, while you tried to ignore him and prepared your things for your ER duty. As you noticed he was preparing as well, but you couldn’t care less to what post he is assigned for tonight.

Hopefully, not the ER.

When you finished packing up and preparing, you went out of the room, but he followed you, the grin never leaving his face. Oh, how annoyed you are. You seriously, really, want to at least land a blow on that glowing, smooth skin of his and wipe that grin off his face.

You continued to walk your way to the emergency room, but he kept on following you like an enthusiastic dog.

You can’t help it anymore.

“Why are you following me?!” You turned around and stop in your tracks. He halted his steps as well, looking utterly surprise with your outburst. The people around the hallway who was nearby was surprised too, as their heads turn to your direction with questioning looks.

“What?” He sounded so confused, he even held up his hand in the air like a criminal.

He looks so lost.

But so do you. You’re just more aggressive.

Well, only to him.

“Why are you following me?” You said, more gently this time, noticing how eyes are on you which made you so embarrassed.

Chittaphon chuckled and lowered his hands down, continuing to stride to wherever he’s heading to, which was in the same direction as the ER.

No way.

You paced faster, and when you caught up to his steps, you looked at him with almost pleading eyes. “No, please don’t tell me you’re on ER duty too.”

You never noticed that you’ve already at the front of the ER doors when Chittaphon pushed it open – and you felt like all the luck for tonight’s shift has been gone. He walked straight to the doctor’s table and started the endorsements from the morning shifters, while your feet have been leading you to the table as well, your mind was still thinking how unfortunate you are for tonight.

You took a seat when your morning shift colleagues left and tried to regain focus.

Be professional, you thought, while reviewing the patients’ charts.

“They said it was quite toxic in the morning,” Chittaphon informed you, sliding down on the seat next to yours. “I hope it won’t continue to our shift.”

“I hope so,” you replied. You genuinely hoped that it wouldn’t be. To be honest, you’d prefer toxic shifts in the morning than toxic night shifts. A single graveyard shift could be so stressful and tiring, your weariness could make you sleep for days literally.

Meanwhile, Doctor Chittaphon kept silent beside you, and while the time pass without any patient coming in, he was reading a book, and you’re surprised that he’s actually…not annoying as you perceive him to be. When you took a glance at him, he’s actually…handsome and cute? When his brows furrow at times, when he pushed his glasses upwards while he’s seriously submerged in the book he’s reading, he really looks smart…

And admittedly, sexy.

He glanced your way with a smile, and you immediately turned your head fast that it would cause you a vertigo.

▫▫▫▫▫

It was around 3 A.M., and since you’ve made it a habit to drink a venti of cappuccino, 2 shots, your eyes are wide awake, and your insides are tingling, your legs shaking and bouncing uncontrollably - as someone caffeine-driven individual would do (feel), and much to your irritation - you can observe everything you see.

And your eyes fell to your next victim, which was the ears of the man sitting beside you while his head was buried in his arms. Like a microscope, you noticed the tiny holes on this side of his ear, and your curiosity piqued in. Instinctively, you reached for his ear, and he didn’t even move an inch – you figured he was sleeping.

Oh my god, who would sleep on his duty so publicly like this? Why is he so tired?

You continued to play with his ear, and you were amused that he wasn’t even moving an inch. The tiny piercings really fascinated you, especially how he got away with it. Although it’s quite common nowadays for men to have piercings, (even doctors, they have lives outside the hospital too, and you understand that, no judgement), but Chittaphon’s…he doesn’t have it only in the lobule, he also have it in the helix, scapha, antihelix – you could basically perfect an ear anatomy exam if he was your partner with all these holes as labels.

“Are you in a gang?” The question was merely a whisper, but then his head shifted to the other side that caused your hand to retract from playing his ear. He groaned something, but his voice was muffled because of his arm.

“What?” You asked him, and his head bounced up and he looked at you with those scrutinizing eyes back when you first met.

“I’m not, what the fuck? What kind of question is that?” He groaned, placing his chin on his hand.

You were quite embarrassed. So, he knew you were playing with his ear, but he didn’t do anything or even say something about it.

“I’m kind of awake, you know. I don’t sleep on duty without telling,” he said.

“Oh,” you resigned, looking downwards and played with your stethoscope’s bell that was hung around your neck. “Sorry.”

There was an awkward silence until you heard him sigh, and he called out to your name in a whisper. You leaned closer to him as what his hand is gesturing you to do.

“(Y/N), I swear, don’t tell this to anyone, or else I’d kill you,” it almost sound like a threat, but it didn’t scare you. To your ears, he almost sounded like pleading, plus it’s not that he’d actually kill you.

“That’s exactly what a gang member would say,” you teased, and he just rolled his eyes.

“Okay, I’m just curious,” you cut him off, and you can’t help but ask. Your curiosity about his piercings have really consumed your thoughts. “How many piercings do you have?”

There was a pause before he answered. “Eleven.”

Your eyes went wide for a moment, and then you nodded. “Cool,” your lips puckered as your curiosity was slowly eating you alive. “What for?”

He sighed, thinking the interrogations were over. “You’re actually talkative, huh?”

▫▫▫▫▫

It was your day off today, and you took the time to relax by some window shopping downtown. Of course, you’d pass by your favorite library, though a bit crowded, the aesthetic vibes it gives somehow soothes your soul.

But when you’ve left, just outside the library doors, you spotted a familiar figure just a meter away that caught your attention. They share the same built, the same height, the same hand gestures – it must have been him.

By the time you know it, you’re already walking in his direction – and you noticed the people he’s bidding goodbye and saying thank you to – they were holding a folded umbrella-like equipment and a bag that most likely contain a camera which was obvious on its cover. They were exchanging smiles and handshakes – and when the crew bid good bye to your colleague, you called out his name, and when he looked at you, he didn’t look pleased at all.

You can’t help but notice how he looked – his glorious forehead showing, and his hair was styled up that it almost looked like a whole bottle of hairspray was used on it. He was wearing a white shirt that enhanced the built of his torso and those broad shoulders you’ve never noticed before. It was matched with dark blue ripped jeans, a chain hanging from one of the belt holders, one of the kids’ trend these days.

His ears…now you understand and know what those piercings are for. Though the earrings didn’t count as equal as the piercing count he told you – it was really fascinating to look at. It is very sexy and cool in your eyes, you had to admit that.

He looked…very different from the nerdy look he presented in the hospital – and you’ve never thought that you’d see this side of him – all dolled up and looking like a model from a magazine. You remembered the Doctor Chittaphon back from the night duty at the ER with the black framed glasses that rested on his nose, how his side profile looked so ethereal and clean…but looking at him now, the terms “there are two sides of the coin” made sense to you now.

He took your arms, and when you looked at him, he was in distress.

“I swear, if you tell this to anyone I’ll—”

“You’re a model?!” you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. The people around shoot glances at your direction, and Chittaphon put a hand over your mouth to silence you while giving the people apologetic smiles while he muttered “sorry”.

It was like déjà vu.

You struggled free from his hand – shooting him a glare while he continued apologizing to anyone around. You took out your phone, pressing the camera app – but alas, his reflexes were faster than yours and he grabbed the phone out of your hands.

“Hey! Give it back!” you tried to snatch it back, but he held it higher, using the height difference as an advantage, a smug grin etching on his lips.

“I’ll tell Nurse Lucas about this,” you said, and that seemed to wipe off the grin from his face. Everyone in the hospital knew how no secret is safe with Nurse Lucas.

“Okay, look, I’ll treat you to anything you like – just don’t tell anyone about this,” he reconciled, giving your phone back. Your lips stretched into a wide grin – dragging him to the zoo-themed café you wanted to try for some time now.

When you’ve both settled and got your orders, there was silence in the space between you, and noticed he looked tired as he took a sip of the drink he ordered.

“You’re really a model?” you really can’t help it. It was a new concept to you – a doctor and a model sharing the same body.

“Yeah, only part-time,” he replied.

“That’s cool. How did you find the time? I mean, the hospital’s load is already heavy…”

“It’s not often though in general, but lately, the star for the job had to leave because of some personal issues, so I had to fill in. The pay is good enough for my wants, so,” he shrugged.

“That’s…very practical,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. With the events happening so suddenly, it was the only word you could think of. Technically, it isn’t wrong, his modelling job, though part-time, would be another source of income. What really made you think he was amazing was because he managed to commit to it even though the hospital work is exhausting enough.

Chittaphon looked very worried – his fingers are fidgeting against the table top, so you held his hand in assurance, along with a genuine smile. “Don’t worry Doc. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

He seemed to relax with your action, thus mirroring the smile you flash on him. “Thanks doc.”

“On one condition though,” a smirk curving the thin line of your lips. Meanwhile, he raised a brow.

“What’s that?”

“I think you’re cute, so, well,” there was a sudden pang at your chest – it was supposed to be a smooth pick-up, but now that you’ve fucked it up, you retracted your hand – but only to be stopped by his bigger one.

“Ah, you were saying?” The smug attitude that you had earlier seemed to have transferred to him, as there was a smirk on his face right now while he held your hand quite tightly.

“Nothing, I was just joking--, “

“Jokes are supposed to be half-meant, doc,” he chuckled, and it sounded so sexy in your ears to have your cheeks heat up. “What was that? What’re you gonna say?”

“Oh god, shut up, Chittaphon! Forget that!” You whispered, trying to free your hand away from his grip. He did let go, but his voice boomed into laughter, his eyes curving upwards and nose scrunching. He looked so bright and bubbly, very different from the haggard, zombie-looking doctor that roams around the hallways of the Pedia ward.

When his laughter halted, he glanced at your physique that’s now a blushing mess, and held both of your hands in his, which made you look into his vibrant brown eyes (it was the contact lenses).

“I think you’re like an appendix!”

“What kind of –”

“I have a gut feeling I should take you out!”

▫▫▫▫▫

“Make sure that Chae-rin of bed 4 had her antibiotics administered on time,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You were about to clock out much to your glee. “That would be my last endorsement for today.”

“Hey,” Ten called out, (a name he insisted you to call him as you two got closer), walking towards you as if the hallway was a runway. His white coat was lightly being flew by the air as he continued his stride, and when you glanced at him, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You lightly hit his arm to which he feigned in pain, placing a hand on it as if to exaggerate what he felt.

“What was that for?” He pouted (how you wanted to kiss that lips of his – but you’re in front of the nurses’ desk). “Anyway, you’re clocking out too?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, reviewing the metal charts for endorsements. “Just finishing up. Also,” you clicked your tongue, your eyes still focused on writing on the chart. “The hallway’s not a runaway, you’ll blow up your cover.”

Ten could only chuckle as you did as well.

With a click of your pen, you took off your coat and headed to the doctor’s quarters to pack things up. He followed and did the same, and when you’re finally off duty, he led you to his car. With the seat belts all fastened up and the engine running, before driving off, Ten shot a look in your direction.

“I should have been an ophthalmologist, not a pediatrician,” he sighed. You raised a brow in his direction.

“Are these one of those corny pick-up lines night again cause if it is—”

“Oh my god, let me finish first, (Y/N).”

“Okay,” you resigned, but you could feel your embarrassment circulating in every vessel of your body right now. “Go on.”

The car started to move though, and there was a disappointed look on Ten’s face when you glanced at it. “No, I won’t, it’s ruined now.”

You could only laugh and pinch his cheeks, earning a smile on his lips as he drives.

#nct #ten #nct ten #nct chittaphon #nct imagines #nctwriters #chittaphon leechaiyapornkul

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

Straight Boy

Part 2: together

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 10365

Chapters: 2/4 [All chapters]

Read on AO3

AN: Oooooh this chapter is fuuuuun :) I loved writing all this fic but especially this chapter. Also, forgot to mention it last chapter, but yes "Baz in glasses" is BACK baby!!! I love this HC and I will keep putting it in fics until I die. Well, enjoy this chapter :D

Tagging: @jeansjeansjeansjeans

———————————————-

I have to do a double take of the building. I check the address Baz text sent me, and it’s right. This fancy ass mostly glass white condo is definitely the right place. Well, Baz said his family was rich, maybe they bought him a whole condo for uni? Yeah...

I walk and type in the buzzer code Baz gave me. It rings low and loud, until a very pissed off voice comes on. And it’s definitely not Baz.

“What?!” The posh woman barks out. I instinctively step away.

“Uh, I’m here to see Baz?” I say with extreme caution. “I’m Simon, by the way.”

“Oh, right, Basilton said you were coming.”

Basilton? What? Okay, not important right now. There’s an obnoxiously loud buzz and the door unlocks. I rush in and go towards the elevator. It’s all cold grey fancy steel. I feel very intimidating as I go up to the twenty fifth floor. Luckily, Baz’s flat is just to the right, so I don’t get lost. (Penny says I get lost turning left.) I knock on the door lightly. A few heavy steps come towards me, then the door swings open, making me take a step back.

This woman is definitely not Baz, but I’m pretty damn sure they’re related. Same skin tone, same grey eyes, same black hair. Though she has a thick white blonde streak at the front. I can’t tell if it’s dyed or natural. She’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans with old Doc Martens. She looks like she just came out from a seventies punk bar, and she was the headline act.

“Uh, hello,” I say very cautiously. “I’m Simon.”

“So, you’re Simon,” she replies with a weird suspicion. “You’re shorter than I thought you would be.”

“Um, sorry?”

“Fiona!” I hear Baz shout from behind her. He appears suddenly, glasses on top of his head, hair falling in a lazy wave over his angry face. He's dressed in a loose white shirts and blue jeans we picked out at W Wood. Wait, are jeans his lazy clothes? Huh, odd. He looks good, so whatever.

“Stop picking on Simon,” he growls at the women, apparently called Fiona, glaring viciously. Fiona glares right back.

“I wasn’t picking on him,” she says with bite.

Baz rolls his eyes dramatically. “Of course you weren’t.” He finally looks at me and immediately grins. “Hi, Snow, glad you could make it. This is my Aunt Fiona. Please ignore her. She’s over protective, like an old pit bull.”

Fiona scoffs loudly and smacks his arm. “I am not old, you wanker! I’m only thirty eight!”

“Not the important thing here. Now, Fiona, don’t you have somewhere to be?” He raises one eyebrow impossibly high. Fiona glares even harder.

“This is my apartment, y’know.”

“Our apartment now. And you’re going to Nicky’s. Seriously, why don’t you two just get a flat together and give me the place to myself 24/7?”

Fiona rolls her eyes. Wow, I can see where Baz gets it from. “Please, we’re too new for that.”

“You’ve known each other since high school.”

“But only been dating for a few months. We’re still in the sexy honeymoon phase, Basil,” she says with a wink. My cheeks heat up, Baz is obviously unimpressed, and Fiona looks very smug. I feel like I’m intruding on a much larger conversation.

“Fiona,” Baz sighs, “please, just go see your boyfriend. Come back tomorrow.”

She sighs over dramatically. “Fine. Leave my kitchen and living room in working order by the time I come back, please.”

Baz sighs in the exact same way. “Yes, of course, now go!”

Fiona walks past me, patting my shoulder as she goes. “Nice meeting you, Simon. Have fun.” Her nails dig into my skin for a brief moment. Not enough to really hurt but enough to sting. I don’t think she likes me that much...

Baz physically pushes Fiona out the door. She flips him off. He groans and gestures me inside. “Sorry about that. Come in, come in. I’ve almost got supper ready.”

I follow in after him, unzipping my hoodie, since this fancy place is certainly well heated. “It’s fine, man. I didn’t know you lived with your Aunt.”

“Yeah, sorry, never came up. She lives close to campus so it was easier to just take her extra room instead of trying to find another place. And I think my parents want her to spy on me for them.”

I chuckle as I kick off my trainers. “And how is that working out? She didn’t strike me as someone who would tattle to your parents.”

Baz’s lip pulls up into a smirk. “Well, she likes to be a shit and pretend she’ll tell them about my activities. But at the same time, she let me smoke half her joint last night while we watched Monty Python and ate peanut butter from the jar.”

“Oh my god,” I giggle. “That sounds amazing!’

“It certainly was. Now come on, I’m starved.”

We walk down the short hall into the actual apartment. I have to stop myself from gasping. The whole place is kinda intimidating but cool. It’s like what you see in catalogues. All white walls, modern furniture, and large bay windows with a view of the steel and brick horizon. Though there’s also enough personality to it to show that two people live here. There's lots of photos on the walls of Baz and Fiona and people who look enough like them to be relatives. Some old books are spread out on the coffee table, with lots of sticky notes on the pages in Baz's wispy handwriting. And next to the volumes are rolling papers I can safely assume are Fiona’s. Looks like a fun place to live.

“Just nearly burned supper, goodness,” Baz chuckles.

I follow his voice into the kitchen. It’s all white with fancy high tech chrome appliances. Baz is bending over the oven, making the denim stretch across his arse. I blush and avoid looking. The memory of...that part of his anatomy is still burned into my brain. It never goes away, just fades and pops back up at literally the worst possible moments. Like late at night, persuading my hand to “accidentally” slip into my pants. Or right now, when I really can’t let my hand go anywhere to relieve the heat he makes in my stomach. Fuck, my head hurts.

“Perfect,” Baz says cheerily. “Cooked all the way through.” He pulls out a pan with two herb covered chicken breasts and oily asparagus stalks. He opens the pot on top of the stove. It’s filled with absolutely divine tomato sauce. My eyes get very wide.

“Wow,” I gasp. “When you said you were making supper, I thought you meant boxed pasta or some shit.”

Baz smiles smugly. “I’m classier than that, Salisbury.”

His smirk makes my stomach even hotter. I shrug. “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Damn right. Now go sit down, I’ll bring the plates out in a second.”

He gestures to the large glass dining table near the window. There’s two rich crimson placemats across from each other, twin wine glasses already filled. The lights are low, matching the setting sun. Everything is soft orange, red, and violet. It’s really nice. This is the fanciest supper set up I've ever seen. And Baz did it for me. He's so nice. My knees wobble a bit as I take my chair. Baz soon comes out with two full plates.

“Dinner is served,” he announces grandly, placing the food in front of me. It’s chicken, asparagus, and some unfamiliar rice dish. It’s got lentils, fried onions, chickpeas, macaroni noodles, and that amazing tomato sauce all on top. My mouth immediately starts watering.

“Thank you,” I reply as he sits down. I wait for him to unfold his napkin and everything to be polite. Mum taught me that. But it’s hard. I really want to eat.

Baz gives me an amused look. “Dig in, Snow, I can see you salivating all the way from over here.”

I roll my eyes, but still grab my utensils. “Shut up.” I put a large forkful of rice in my mouth, and it’s a flavour explosion. My tastebuds are singing with joy. I’ve never had something this good. I start shovelling huge bites in, making Baz snort with laughter.

“You like it?” he asks with amusement.

“Uh, fuck yeah! What is this, ambrosia?”

Baz chuckles and shakes his head, “No, just some good spices. That’s called koshari. It’s a very famous dish in Egypt. I’m half Egyptian, so I wanted to try to make it. Connect to my heritage and all.”

I try to smile, but my mouth is partially filled with koshari, so it’s difficult. “That’s awesome. Like, it’s really cool you’ve got that connection to your culture and stuff. Plus it’s just like super delicious.”

He half smiles, lifting his wine glass like a true gentleman, “The chef appreciates your compliments.”

I lift my own and clink our cups together. Like we’re fancy or something. “You’re very welcome.”

We trade easy conversation as we eat. Baz has completely caught up in his classes. Actually, he’s probably ahead. He’s incredibly smart so I’m not surprised. I’m getting better at paying attention in class. Penny gave me a fidget spinner, which I think was supposed to be a joke, but it’s actually helped me channel some of that restless energy. Plus I’m just super interested in our therapy unit. It’s what I study social work for, to help people. Baz calls me exceedingly noble. From his small smile, I assume it’s a compliment.

Once dinner is finished, we put our plates in the sink. I try to start washing but Baz slaps my hand away.

“None of that,” he says resolutely. “I’ll do it later.”

I put my hands in my pockets. I know there’s no point in arguing with him, amazing stubborn bastard. “Alright. What should we do? I don’t really feel like going home yet.”

A strange look crosses over his face. Both nervous and excited maybe? It’s so fleeting I can’t tell before it’s gone. He nods slowly. “Want to watch a movie? I’ve got Fiona’s Netflix account.”

“Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

We walk over to Fiona’s pristine white couch. I flop down while Baz sits properly, ankles crossed, straight back, hands in his lap. Jeez, he can still be so uptight sometimes. He flips down his glasses, probably so he can actually see the TV. Fuck, they really do look good on him. I have to make an effort not to stare.

“What should we watch?” I ask. “Horror? Comedy? Drama?”

Baz shrugs. “Well, I only watch documentaries, which you’d probably find very boring. So I leave the choice up to you, Salisbury.” He hands me the remote like a gentleman offering a bouquet. I take it graciously.

“Oh thank you kind sir,” I say in my poshest accent. Baz rolls his eye and chuckles.

I flip through Netflix for a little while. Well, Baz wasn’t lying about only watching documentaries. All his recently watched are movies about forests and wars and violinists. Bo-ring! I go to the romcom section, because I love stupid tropey shit. Penny calls me a hopeless romantic. I just like that everything works out in the end. Real life isn’t usually like that. It’s nice to pretend. So I pick “Notting Hill”. It’s one my favourites.

“Dear Lord,” Baz mutters part way in, “what is this?”

“It’s a rom com,” I reply.

“So, I’m supposed to believe that a movie star just happens to wander into this guy’s store? And she kisses him impulsively? Seriously?”

I playfully smack his arm. Wow, his hands are rough, his arms are smoother than sea glass. “It’s not supposed to be realistic, it’s supposed to be fun.”

He snorts. “Well, all I can focus on is the plot holes.”

I sigh. My head, heavy from food drowsiness, lolls to my right. It takes me a bit too long to realise it’s fallen on Baz’s shoulder. Shit, didn’t mean to do that. He’s incredibly tense, every muscle pulled tight. I nearly move off, but then he relaxes. His legs uncross, and his hands fall to beside his sides. So, I guess this is okay. And his shoulder, despite it’s boney-ness, is actually really comfy. Yeah. this is cool. I’ll just stay here.

The movie keeps going, but it kind of falls to background noise for me. I know it off by heart anyway. I’m more focused on other things for some reason. Like the feel of Baz’s soft shirt on my cheek. Or that his whole jean covered leg is pressed against mine. Or how close his rough farmer-violist hand is to mine. I’ve only held it a couple times, and only loosely. I do wonder...

Before thinking about it too much, I reach over and grab his hand. Baz inhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t pull away. Our hands rest together. We stay like that for awhile. Watching the movie, just casually holding hands. Normal friend stuff. His skin is still as scratchy as I remember, creating sparks of sensation all over my palm. And his fingers are quite long. Pianist fingers, I think that’s the term. They’re nice. I like his hand. I like holding it.

Eventually, I lift my head up, and my eyes flick over to him. I just want to see if he’s enjoying the movie. Holy shit, he’s looking back. His grey eyes are staring right at me. It almost feels like he’s looking through me they’re so piercing. It makes me shudder involuntarily. His eye move lower, to... Wait is he looking at my-

And then he kisses me.

Holy shit. A guy is kissing me. More importantly, Baz is kissing me. His face is so close to mine, black hair falling around us, glasses pushing against my nose. Baz’s lips are smooth, soft, and kinda cold. Well, not cold, just chilly, like an ocean breeze. It feels nice. His kiss feels nice. Oh my god, I’m musing about a guy kissing me, about how much I like it. What the hell?!

Our mouths are still, just pressed together chastely. Like we're a pair of awkward pre-teends having out first kiss. But really I’m too stunned to move. Then Baz pulls away slightly. His eyes are a bit glassy and his breathing is unsteady. “Is this okay?” he whispers.

That’s a really good fucking question. Am I okay with this? My lips are still tingling, and my pulse is hammering in my ears. Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to get close to him again. I nod. “Yeah,” I reply breathlessly, “yeah, it’s okay.”

Baz smirks, pushing his glasses on top of his head before kissing me again. He’s less hesitant this time, moving his mouth more insistently and curling his long fingers around my nape. I try to match his pace, try to pull him closer too, clutching his shirt in tight fists. I just want him so close. I let out an involuntary moan when his nails prick my skin. The slight sting makes everything go spinny. My mouth falls open, and I moan again as his tongue slowly slides across mine. Holy shit, why does this feel so much better than any kiss I’ve had before? I’ve only snogged a few of people, so it’s not like I’ve got a ton of experience, but I’ve got enough. And this is by far the best snog I’ve ever had.

I don’t even realise I’ve been leaning back until I’m laying down with Baz over me. He’s got one hand in my hair, the other trailing along my side, and a leg between mine. I’m holding his hips, dangerously close to going under his shirt. I really want to feel those muscles I saw in the changeroom, but I don’t want to do anything like that without Baz’s permission. Consent is necessary and all. But suddenly, without even moving off my mouth, Baz grabs my wrist and shoves my hand right under his shirt. Okay, pretty damn sure that’s consent. I trace the ridges and planes of muscle in his back, memorising the how ridiculously good they feel. He groans into my mouth. It makes my whole body shudder. And I full on gasp when he grinds his knee between my legs. My whole brain fucking explodes. Oh man, I am certainly “reacting” very, very strongly right now.

Through all the arousal haze, I wonder if this, what we’re doing, means I’m gay. But I don’t want to kiss Baz because he’s a guy. I want to kiss Baz because he’s Baz. Because he’s nice and funny and watched Doctor Who for me. And sure, he’s also really pretty with his wavy black hair and deep sea eyes. But anyone would notice that. I’ve noticed that other guys are pretty before. I can be straight and observant, right? I don’t know. It’s all too confusing to think about now. I just want to keep holding Baz. I have to do that.

Fuck, how long has he wanted this? How long have I wanted this? I would say I didn’t, but then why are a list of things I want to do to Baz? Like this; I push a hand into his hair. The strands are soft, slipping through my fingers, just like I thought. I clench my fist and shove his face more into mine.

Suddenly, Baz pulls off my mouth.

“Sorry,” I say (I’m out of breath it’s embarrassing.)

“No, no, don’t be sorry. Just,” he takes a breath, “want to continue this somewhere more comfortable?”

I’m panting very hard, but so is he. His face is flushed, eyes half lidded, lips swollen and wet. He looks fucking hot. My whole body is vibrating with energy. I want to pull him down and kiss him until our mouths are sore. And well, this couch is a bit small to stay here for that long. So I nod. “Sure, sounds good.”

Baz grins, showing all his bright white teeth. “Wonderful.”

He climbs off me. His legs are shaky, but when I stand up, mine are too. Baz turns off the telly and takes my hand, leading me down the narrow hall towards a room. Once we enter, it’s very obvious that this is Baz’s room. It’s extremely neat because of course Baz is a clean freak. But the desk is covered in a mess of books and sheet music. His violin case sits in the corner. I wonder if I’ll ever hear him play.

We stop in front of the large bed. His sheets are all black, and they look like silk. Well, that's definitely more comfortable than the couch. Baz turns towards me. His face is lit up by the setting sun, skin glowing perfectly in the fiery light. Wow, he’s somehow even prettier right now. But, is he nervous? He’s chewing on his lip, and the hand I’m not holding keeps flexing. I guess he is. Huh, I haven’t seen him anxious since the W Wood. And right now he’s much worse.

“So,” he says, clearing his throat a bit, “how far do you want to go? We could just keep snogging, that’s fine with me. Or we could do more. Whatever you feel like, I’ll be fine with.”

Fucking hell he’s so considerate. It makes my heart speed up, for some reason. But, what do I want? I want to touch him, to kiss him a lot. For him to kiss me and touch me too. Maybe in places other than my lips. Actually, fuck "maybe", I desperately want that, the need itching under every part of my skin. Even though I've never wanted a guy to do that before. Even though I’m straight. I’m trying not to think too much about those contradictions and focus on how good kissing him felt. I really don’t need a headache at this time.

“I-I’m good for anything.” Wait no, not right. “But not ‘all the way’, though. I don’t think I’m prepared for that, in every sense of the word.”

Baz chuckles, his other hand grabbing mine. “That’s fine, no worries. Neither am I, to be honest. But there’s lots of other stuff we can do.”

I look down at the floor, stomach twisting terribly with nerves. “Um, if I’m being honest, Baz, I, uh, have no clue what to do. I’ve never done this before, with a guy.”

He doesn’t say anything. I expected him to laugh, to tease me at least a bit, but instead I feel his rough pianist finger knock up my chin. His mouth is soft, and his eyes are kind and understanding. Why are my knees so weak? “It’s okay, you don’t have to be nervous. We can try things, but you can absolutely stop me if I you want to, alright?” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, taking a moment to trace my jaw with a single callused fingertip. “I’ll take care of you, Simon.”

Bloody Hell, I’m not sure I have knees anymore now.

We lean forward simultaneously, lips instantly moulding together like we’ve been kissing forever. It feels so fucking good that I barely notice him pushing up my shirt. He pulls away when he reaches my arms. His face asks the silent question, and I nod in reply. He pulls the shirt over my head and tosses it to the side. I push at the hem of his. He happily helps me get it off, whipping it on the floor. My hands instantly go to his bare torso and chest. I try to touch all of it. Stomach, chest, shoulders, everything. I feel every bit of smooth skin and sharp angle, and they’re just as wonderful as I imagined.

“You’re actually perfect,” I murmur.

Baz smirks. He clenches his stomach, showing off his stupid perfect abs. I can’t suppress the squeak that pops out of my mouth.

“Why thank you,” he drawls sarcastically. I scoff, hoping it makes up for my red cheeks. He slowly runs his hand over my bare side the across my stomach. My whole body feels electric. I shiver and sigh. “You’re pretty damn amazing yourself, Snow.”

I attempt to laugh off my embarrassment. “T-Thanks.”

He kisses me softly again, arms winding around my neck. I hold his waist tightly. I nearly pull him over as Baz spins me around and pushes me on the bed. He stands over me, cupping my cheeks as we keep kissing. Soon he breaks away and starts trailing his cool lips slowly down my neck. It feels so good my eyes roll back in my head. I fall back on the mattress, propped up on my elbows, legs still hanging off the edge. He goes further and further. Across my collarbone, down my sternum and stomach, until he reaches just above my trouser waistband. Baz looks up from where he’s kneeling between my legs, eyes so dark I can only see the smallest ring of grey, and places a tentative hand over the button.

“May I?” he asks breathlessly.

I’m gripping the sheet so hard my knuckles are white. I can’t tell if it’s from nervousness or anticipation. Probably both. I know what he means. I know what he wants to do. Part of me is still confused by my own desire, but a louder part is only thinking in sex. In “yes, yes, please, more, do it.” And it’s a lot louder.

“Yeah,” I say, falling fully onto my back, "you can.”

I lay there, staring at the blemish free white ceiling, breathing harshly, just waiting. Everything is quiet. The only sound is the distant honks from far below and my own clamorous heartbeat. Baz doesn’t do anything for awhile and I start to think if I fucked up somehow. Am I too eager? Has he changed his mind? Is this all one big stupid mistake?

But then he pulls my pants down and takes me in his mouth. Then, well, I’m not thinking very much at all anymore.

———————————————-

I roll off Baz and flop next to him on his bed. We’re both panting and sweating and a bit sticky, bare bodies glistening in the city lights. It’s very dark out now. The sun set awhile ago. I manage to twist my still dizzy head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. Holy shit, we just spent over two hours having sex. My muscles are totally dead, throbbing with blissful exhaustion.

And it hits me, again: I just had sex with Baz, with a guy, and I really, really liked it.

So does this mean I'm gay? But I liked it because it was Baz, not because it was a guy. He was so patient, so attentive, pushing just enough to get me to try new things but never so far that I was uncomfortable. I'm still unbelievably confused, but mostly just really fucking satisfied.

“Wow,” I say, voice raw and scratchy. “That was just, wow.”

Baz tries to chuckle, but his voice isn't much better than mine. “Had fun, Snow?”

“Uh, yeah! That was like the best sex I’ve ever had.” It’s only after the words burst out do I realise how fucking embarrassing that sounds. Baz laughs, of course. I cover my burning face. “I’ll shut up now,” I groan.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed, darling.” Baz peels my hands off, grinning face now hovering over mine. I can feel his foot pressed to my bare calf. He kisses my knuckles lightly. A thousand butterflies take off in my stomach. “It was really good for me too.”

His face is shiny with sweat, wavy hair all tangled because I kept pulling it (not that he complained). The city light dances across his skin perfectly. There’s a lot more butterflies flying now. I cup the back of his head and pull his mouth down to mine. I just want to be closer to him right now. It’s not urgent like before. It’s simply a lazy slide of our tired mouths, a calm way to end the frantic evening.

Baz pulls back slowly. His breath tickles my face. Then he collapses on top of me, face buried in the crook of my neck. I snort out a laugh I can’t help. He’s just too adorable.

“You tired, Basilton?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “And don’t use my full name. Only my family does that.”

“But it’s so funny! Your name is fucking Basilton Grimm-Pitch. You sound like an Edgar Allan Poe character.”

He chuckles against my skin. “Then you’ll love my first name.”

My heart does double time. I look down at him as best I can. “What the hell is your first name?!”

I feel his shit eating grin on my collarbone. “A man is allowed to have a few secrets, Snow.”

Damn, I really want to throttle the smug perfect bastard. He groans as pushes himself off me, slowly rolling onto his back then sitting upright, legs hanging off the edge. He stretches his arms to the sky, showing the grand muscular expanse of his back. (There are a lot of angry red scratches from my nails. Fuck, I was really into it.)

“I don’t know about you,” he yawns, “but I’m completely knackered. I’m brushing my teeth and going to bed.” His head turns halfway, showing just one eye, gaze slightly unsteady. Is he nervous again. “You want to stay? It’s alright if you don’t.”

Honestly, I’m not sure my muscles are strong enough right now to get me home. Even so, I do want to go. So I nod. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

His mouth quirks up. “Good.”

Baz slips on his boxers and hands me mine. He leads me to the washroom. It’s huge and pristine and white of course. Baz gives me a fresh toothbrush, which is really thoughtful, because he’s really thoughtful. The vain bastard keeps hogging the mirror though. Once we’re done with our teeth, we go back to the bedroom and Baz takes out his posh red silk pyjamas. He tries to offer me a pair but I’m fine with an oversized t-shirt that looks totally unworn.

“That thing?” Baz says slightly disgusted. “I got that from the overeager poet’s society back at Oxford.”

Huh, makes sense. It does have a Byron joke on it. I shrug. “Eh, it’s fine. Kinda funny too.”

Baz waves dismissively. “Very well. You can keep it if you want. I’m not going to wear it.”

I pull at the hem. Well, if he’s offering, sure. It’s really comfy. And or some reason, I sort of like the idea of keeping this shirt. Keeping Baz’s clothes...it’s just sorta nice.

I flop down on the silk sheets and immediately sink into the comfy mattress. It’s like a goddamn smooth cloud. I’m already drifting off into dreamland when Baz lays next to me. He pulls the quilt over us. Distantly, I feel his long arm drape across my waist and his body curl around mine. His breath hits the back of my neck, almost immediately evening out in sleep. I instinctively snuggle closer, because he feels good. This whole night has felt good. Maybe I should just focus on that instead of the storm in my brain. Yeah, I’m fine with that.

———————————————-

I’m waiting for Baz at Goat while trying to do my readings. He meets me after class, then we have lunch and talk. We’ve been hanging out a lot more on campus the past three weeks, ever since I slept over. I do that a lot more too, actually. I go to his place at least once a week, usually more. Sometimes we just eat supper, maybe watch a movie, then fall asleep in Baz’s bed. Other times we use the bed for...other things.

I’m still straight though. That's still how I think of my self. I just also like this, whatever it is. It’s a sorta weird but awesome friends with benefits thing. I think. We haven’t really defined it. But whatever. We’re having fun. Who needs labels?

“Hello, love.” Baz’s hand is a comfortable weight on my shoulder. He bends around the back of the chair and kisses me. It’s just a short, sweet greeting kiss. He does this a lot now. I like it. I smile against his mouth.

“Hi,” I reply as he sits down across from me. “How was class?”

Baz stretches out his hand. “Well, my fingers hurt, so very good. How was your’s?”

I lift up my heavy textbook. “Professor Blowhard assigned extra readings again, of course. Does he realise we have lives outside of class?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care, obviously. Because he's a dickhead.”

“Damn right. I need scones to feel better.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. Ebb already getting our food ready?”

“Ebb’s finished your food.” I jolt slightly. When did Ebb get here? Did she manifest out of thin air? She holds two plates with our usuals. A latte, sour cherry scone, and grilled cheese with tomato and spinach for me. (Baz suggested I try the last one, so Ebb made it, and it’s really good.) And a fancy turkey-pesto panini and pumpkin mocha breve for Baz.

Baz smiles up at her. He’s gotten very friendly with her. “Good day, Ebb. How’s it going?”

Ebb shrugs. “Pretty okay. I sort of want some new dishware but I’m not sure I have the funds for it.”

“Well, Christmas is coming up. Maybe I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ebb laughs and ruffles Baz’s already messy hair. She’s very friendly with him by now. “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Baz. Sweet of you to say though. He’s certainly a keeper, Si.”

She winks at me before sauntering off. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I flick my eyes over to Baz. He’s taking a sip from his overly large coffee cup. When he lowers it, there’s whipped cream on the tip of his long nose. I snort and giggle. Baz’s brow furrows.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, actually genuinely concerned. He’s always very concerned about his appearance. It’s funny, and kind of cute.

I reach out and use one finger to swipe the whipped cream off. His nose scrunches like an adorable child. I hold it for him to see.

“You’re making a mess,” I tease, then lick my finger. Baz’s eye go wide, and he might blush. It’s hard to tell sometimes, what with his complexion and being emotional display repulsed British gentry. I’m not sure why though. I just don’t like wasting food.

“Christ, Simon,” he chuckles, shaking his head. His eyes flick up to mine and he smirks. That expression makes my stomach do a lot of funny things. “Like you’re one to talk about messes," he says. "My kitchen is still recovering from your pizza debacle.”

“It turned out to be good frozen pizza though.”

“Yes, at the sacrifice of a clean oven.”

I shrug, reaching my foot out to tap his for emphasis. “I’ll destroy my own next time, alright?”

He goes a step further, tracing the toe of his Oxford on my bare ankle. It makes me jolt, but in a good way. Baz seems to have that effect on me.

“Hm, y’know, I haven’t been to your place yet. Invite me over for oven destroying pizza sometime?” His voice is smooth as butter. It makes my legs feel weak, even though I’m already sitting down. And he’s right, he hasn’t been over yet. It’s not because of anything, his place has always just been easier. That should be corrected.

“Yeah, sure,” I chirp, “I’d like that. Though my flatmate might interrogate you. She still isn’t sure she approves of you.”

Baz shrugs dismissively. “Understood. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’ll warm up to me. I’m very likable.”

I scoff. “And full of yourself.”

He pushes his foot until it’s fully under my jean cuff. I yelp in surprise. “Got you to like me, didn’t I?”

Shit, why is my face so flushed? I try to use my book to cover it, but my eyes peek out over the top. Baz is still smirking, still slowly moving his shoe up and down my skin. It’s sort of hard to say no when he’s doing that. Bastard. “That’s true, I suppose,” I say shakily.

“Exactly.” He leans forward on the table, chin cradled in his palm. “Want to come over tonight? Fiona’s at Nicky’s again. Those two need to just move in together already.”

“Yeah, agreed. And I can come over as long as you help me revise for a midterm.”

“Very well,” he sighs dramatically. “If that’s the price I must pay for a good shag.”

And I thought my blush couldn’t get any worse. I use a hand to cover my bright red face. “Baz,” I giggle, “shut up.”

He chuckles and slowly peels my hand away. I’ve found his violin calluses feel weirdly wonderful on my skin. “I’ll help you, love, don’t worry.”

Fuck, he’s always so nice. Just so kind and helpful and fun to be around. He’s like Penny, I guess, but our dynamic doesn’t feel like me and Penny. Not better, just different. My heart and stomach don’t feel twisty around her. And I definitely don’t want to snog Pen silly. Baz is just different. Whatever we have is different. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. And I certainly don’t want to stop.

———————————————-

A week later, Baz is scheduled to come over. I’m trying to salvage my stupid homemade stupid pizza when there’s a knock at the door. I run over still wearing the apron and oven mitts as I open it. Baz is standing on the other side, gym/overnight bag slung over his shoulder. He blinks at me confused, eyes big behind his glasses. (He’s been wearing them more. That's good. He looks amazing, and he needs to see.)

“Hi,” I say breathlessly, kissing him hello by habit.

“Good evening, Snow,” he says. “Nice apron.”

I look down. Right, this is Pen’s “Snog the Chef” apron. Micah sent it to her as a joke. He made the false assumption she cooks enough to need one. Both of us usually cook from a box or order take away. I chuckle.

“Uh, yeah. Still trying to make supper. Come in, come in.”

I race back to the kitchen, leaving Baz in the living room. I can still see him through a small square space in the wall. (The previous tenant had a thing for cutting random holes in the wall.) He scans the room, taking in his surroundings.

“Hm,” he says thoughtfully. “Nice place.”

I laugh loudly so he can hear me. “You don’t have to be nice, y’know. I’m aware it’s gross. I tried to clean a bit.”

“I’m serious, it’s nice. Love all the Polaroid pictures. Is this blonde girl your roommate?”

“Uh, no, that’s Agatha. The other girl, Penelope, she’s my flatmate. We all went to high school together.”

“I see, that’s nice. You all look happy.”

I lean out the weird window hole. Baz is looking at the picture from the summer, when we all went to Agatha’s family beach house. I smile. That was a happy time.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Summer before final year. Can’t tell Agatha was about to break up with me a few weeks later, huh?”

It’s a joke, but I immediately regret it. Baz tenses up. Shit, that’s a serious topic, and I shouldn’t talk about Agatha like that.

“There’s no bad blood though,” I say quickly. “Like, it sucked when we split up but it was for the best in the end. We’re way better as friends. She lives in California now. She skypes me and Pen a lot, tells us all about America and shit. I sent her a British flag for Christmas last year, and she sent me a California one.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m babbling, sorry, I’ll stop.”

Baz turns his head. He’s smiling, no anger or disappointment, thank God. “It’s fine, love, don’t worry. She sounds lovely. I’m not jealous. Unless I have a reason to be.”

His raised eyebrows and toothy grin tells me he’s joking. I chuckle. Why would he have a reason to be jealous anyway? I mean, Agatha’s pretty, but so is he. “No, you definitely have no reason. Maybe I’ll introduce you two sometime. You can compare expensive hair products.”

“Hey, you like my hair.”

“Yeah, but I’ve also seen how many bottles you have in your shower. And how many bottles did you bring with you tonight?”

Baz doesn’t answer. I snicker as I pull my pizza out of the oven. Well, it’s not much of a pizza anymore. Sort of a dough, cheese, and sauce liquid mess in a pan. I groan and lean my head on the cupboard over the oven.

“Trouble with supper, love?”

I look up. Baz is leaning in the window hole, arms crossed over the sill and head on his bent elbow. He looks nice like this, relaxed and all. Huh, he really is a lot less uptight than he was two months ago. That’s good, I suppose. I smile weakly.

“I think this pizza is even more of a disaster than the last one. And this time it’s completely inedible.”

He frowns sarcastically. “Aw, what a surprise.”

I take a mitt off and throw it at his stupid smug pretty face. “Fuck off, I tried!”

Baz doesn’t looked fazed by the glove projectile, just holding it as he smiles. “I know, darling, and you did your best. Now, shall I order take away?”

I sigh, shaking off the other mitt so they lay in a messy pile on the counter. “I guess so. But I’m paying for it. I was supposed to make you a nice supper, I should at least pay for the substitute.”

“Well, I certainly have no problem with that.”

I turn off the oven and take off the dumb apron. With heavy steps and hanging head, I go into the living room. Baz immediately reaches out and pulls me against him, hugging me close. I wrap my arms around his firm back, easily sinking into his embrace. He smells nice. Like cedar and bergamot, I think.

“Want to watch a movie?” he whispers, breath tickling my ear.

“Sure,” I mumble into his shoulder. “Do you like Pixar?”

He chuckles. It’s a really nice sound, washing over me like a warm, relaxing wave. “Yeah. Pixar is wonderful.”

We don’t move for a bit though. We just stay there, hugging in the middle of my living room. He’s a good hugger, so I don’t mind. I just close my eyes, breathe in his smell, and let his strong, firm arms hold me.

———————————————-

“Why does Buzz go still?” Baz asks. “He doesn’t think he’s a toy. Why would he pretend to be one when a person walks in?”

“Shhh.” I reach up to blindly hit his stupid smart arse mouth. “You’re ruining the movie.”

“I’m simply pointing out a flaw in the film’s plot.”

“Just shut up and watch, arsehole.”

Baz makes a displeased noise, but does thankfully shut up. Our half eaten take away pizza is still sitting on the coffee table. The sun has mostly set, the light of the telly the main source now. I’m junk food tired so I’ve ended up with my head in Baz’s lap. His legs are comfortable. And I like the way he strokes my hair. I could probably fall asleep like this if I wanted.

“Sorry again about supper,” I mumble into his thigh.

Baz hums softly, winding a finger around one of my curls. “It's fine, love. You made the effort, that's what counts. And I appreciate it.”

I hum, throwing an arm over his knees. “You’re nice.”

Bizarrely, he scoffs at that. “You’re the first person to say that, Snow. Most people say I’m rude and mean.”

“You're not, they're all wrong," I say immediately, almost angry for him.

He pauses for a moment, hand still in my hair. "You really think so?" he asks, voice slightly shaky.

"Yeah, of course. You tease me but you also made me supper and watched Doctor Who. That means a lot. You’re, like, snarky nice. Fuck, does that even make sense?”

Baz runs his thumb over the nape of my neck. “No, I get it. Thank you, darling, you’re incredibly sweet.” He brushes his long fingers against my ear. “Sometimes I wonder how I found you,” he sighs.

I chuckle, sound muffled by his trouser leg. “You ‘found me’ in a boring psych lecture, remember?”

“Yeah,” he whisper-laughs. “Glad I did though. Honestly...” He takes an audible breath, like he’s getting ready to jump off a cliff or something. “I think you’re the best thing to come out of moving to Watford.”

My mouth suddenly feels dry. And my heart is bruising my ribs it’s beating so hard. That was definitely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. But it doesn’t feel like when Penny or Agatha or Mum are nice. It feels so...new. I wish there was a more eloquent word for it, for what I feel when he says something like that. It’s an all encompassing sensation I've never experienced before. Like a supernova in my brain and chest. I just can’t place it.

The end credit music starts playing. I turn my head back to the screen. “Oh hey, it’s done,” I say. “Wanna watch something else?”

I can’t see Baz’s face, but I feel him lean back against the sofa. “Sure. Anything in mind?”

“Actually, yeah, I've got something. You’ll like it.” I fumble for the remote, then start flipping through my Netflix list. I know it’s there... “Aha! This!” I highlight a movie I found yesterday. Baz leans forward with curiosity.

“A documentary on an Australian string quartet?” He chuckles. “Really?”

Shit, I thought he would like it because there are string instruments and stuff in it. But it’s not like every chef adores cooking shows. “S-Sorry, it was just an idea. We can watch something else.”

Baz puts an arm around my waist and squeezes my stomach tight. I immediately relax. “No, that wasn’t a discouragement. I’m very intrigued. I’m just surprised you’re offering to watch it. It’ll be quite dull for you.”

I shrug. “Eh, maybe. But you’ll like it, and I’m willing to try.”

Baz doesn’t answer. Well, not with words. His arm holds me even tighter, and he leans down to kiss my hair. His cool lips press lightly to my scalp. I can’t help the shudder it makes. When he pulls back, he goes back to to softly stroking my hair. I feel like I could melt into the couch.

“Put it on,” Baz sighs. “Try not to fall asleep, Snow.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say, meaning it genuinely.

So the movie is objectively boring for me, because I'm not a violin student, and I’m not a huge fan of documentaries period. But there are some good parts. I like the people, following their progression and lives and how their careers influence everything around them. Baz likes that too. Though he’s also fascinated by all the fancy instruments. I just think they’re all really pretty.

“Hey,” Baz asks, “where’s your flatmate?”

“Oh she’s-” The front door suddenly slams, making both of us jolt. A few footstep sounds later, Penny is standing right in front of us. “She’s right here. Hi, Pen.”

Penny is frozen. She blinks at us in complete silence for a few long seconds. I don’t know what’s so baffling. “Hi... What’s going on here?”

“Baz and I are watching a movie.” What’s going on with her? Pretty sure that was obvious.

She quirks an eyebrow. “So this is Baz?”

“Oh right.” I gesture to her. “Baz, this is Penelope Bunce.” I gesture to him. “Penny, this is Baz Grimm-Pitch.”

“Hello, Penelope," Baz says smoothly. "May I call you that?”

“Um, sure.”

“Wonderful. Pleasure to finally meet you.” He offers his hand like the gentleman he is.

Cautiously, Penny takes the handshake. “Same for me. Good to put a face to the name.”

“Likewise.”

Their hands fall. Penny has a weird expression on her face. Her eyes keep flicking between me and Baz, looking positively perplexed. I don’t get it. We’re just watching a movie. She said it was okay to bring Baz over, but it still must be weird for her to have someone new around. She doesn’t like new people. But Baz is going to be hanging around with me indefinitely, so they should probably get more comfortable with each other.

“Wanna watch and eat with us?” I ask. “Pizza is lukewarm but still good.”

She seems even more confused, head pulling back and mouth twisting for a moment. “Uh, sure, if that’s alright with both of you.” She looks pointedly at Baz.

“It’s perfectly fine with me. Snow’s the one taking up the entire sofa.”

I scoff and smack his knee. “Fuck off.” I swing my legs dramatically, putting myself upright. It makes my vision spin a bit, so I fall against Baz, head on his shoulder. I don’t think he minds though. “There, happy?”

He chuckles and throws an arm around me, pulling us even closer together. “Positively elated, Snow.” He presses a sloppy wet kiss to my cheek. I make a disgusted noise as I wipe it off.

“Arsehole.” I kiss his cheek too. Fair’s fair. I look up, and Penny’s eyes are incredibly wide. I gesture at her. “C’mon, Pen, there’s room now.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Alright then."

She sits down, but closer to the other end. Weird. I try to make more room, putting my legs over Baz’s, pressing against him. But she doesn’t move any closer. Actually, she moves further away. Weird, but I get wanting your own space. She is watching the movie intently though.

“This is good,” she says through her pizza. “That violin is incredible.”

“It’s called the Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius,” Baz interjects. “Made by Antonio Stradivari of Cremona in 1713. Many say his string instruments are the greatest ever made. He’s estimated to have made 960 violins, 650 of which are still around. What I wouldn’t give to play a Stradivarius.”

“Right," Penny chuckles. "Simon said you were a violinist.”

“Yup, he is,” I say. “Which makes him a total music nerd.”

Baz flicks my far ear then kisses the other. “Says the Doctor Who nerd. And not just music. I enjoy history and English language too.”

“Hey, so does Penny! She never shuts up about that book about working people.”

“‘The Making of The English Working Class’ by EP Thompson, Si,” Penny says with some exasperation. “It’s an interesting read.”

Baz makes a contemplative sound. He’s good at those. “I’ll have to look it up. Shall we compare notes sometime?”

Penny turns her head. She seems to be examining Baz over her spectacles, brown eyes moving up and down over him. She does that a lot, examines people, like me the first day we met all those years ago. She’s assessing him, figuring out whether he’s worth her time. She decided I was. I can only hope she likes him

“I’ll think about it,” she says.

I breathe out a small sigh of relief. They get along, thank God. Neither of them notice the sigh, but they do notice the loud yawn I can’t help afterwards.

“Tired, Snow?” Baz teases.

“No,” I grumble. I rub my aching eye, which doesn’t help my case.

Baz sighs, then shoves off my legs and stands over me, all tall and looming and handsome. He offers his hand. “Then let’s go to bed. I have an early class tomorrow anyway.”

“Okay.” I take his hand and he hoists me to my feet. I’m a bit wobbly, but Baz keeps me steady with an arm around my waist. Damn, I’m tired. “Can you put away the pizza, Pen? I’ll clean up the rest in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” she says absentmindedly, already flipping to her own show.

“G’night, Pen.”

“Night Si. And Baz.”

“Goodnight, Penelope. Lovely to meet you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I sigh again, because she sounds genuine, and I don’t need two of my best friends feuding. There’s no need for unnecessary drama.

Baz and I wash up quickly. (He hogs the mirror again.) I throw on my usual baggy shirt and sweats. I assumed he brought his ridiculous posh silk pyjamas, but to my surprise he takes one of my Watford sweatshirts and a matching set of grey trackies. I look at him with utter amusement.

“Really?” I chuckle.

“I left my bag in the living room,” he says nonchalantly. “And I don’t feel like going to get it.” His pretty face become nervous for a moment, looking down at the hardwood floor. “Is it alright?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I curl my fingers in his elastic waistband, making him stumble closer. “You look good. You should wear my clothes more often.”

He chuckles, leaning down to capture my lips. I sigh and melt into it. Baz holds my face, slowly running his finger over my cheek. I encircle his waist. Warmth spreads from my mouth and through my entire body. Damn. No matter how brief or how long, how fast or slow, Baz's kisses are always pretty damn great.

He pulls back slightly, leaving the smallest space between us. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispers against my skin. “Come on, now. I’m tired and so are you. Let’s sleep.”

I yawn right on cue. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Baz pulls me towards the bed. He lays down first, putting his glasses on the nightstand, and I follow, head pillowed on his strong chest. His arms wrap around me tightly. I like when he does that. Baz always makes me feel better just by holding me. How the hell does that work? Why does he feel so unlike any friend I've had before? I don't know. And I don't care, so long as he just keeps holding me.

“Night,” I mumble.

“Night, love,” he sighs.

I drift off with his left hand in my hair, his right tracing circles on my back, and his heartbeat right under my ear.

———————————————-

“Snow? Snow. Simon.”

I groan at the voice disturbing the my sleep. A rough, callused hand shakes my arm. Of course I know who it is, so I don’t even open my eyes.

“What?” I grumble

“I have to go,” Baz whispers. “I’ve got class until seven. Lunch at Goat tomorrow?”

“M-hm.”

“And are you still staying at my place Friday?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you understand anything I just said?”

I roll over, bleary eyes opening slightly. The dawn light doesn’t hurt my eyes too much. Baz is a blur of black, reddish-gold, and grey.

“Goat tomorrow, your flat Friday,” I mumble. “Got it.”

There’s white in the blur now, what I assume are his teeth in a wide grin. He leans forward. “Wonderful. See you later, darling.”

“Bye, love.”

He presses a kiss to my hairline. Even half asleep, I can feel his cool lips on my forehead and the smell of all his fancy products waft up my nose. I listen as his shoes click out the door.

I think I fall asleep again, because when I wake up it’s a lot brighter outside. I groan at the burning sunlight and bring the sheet over my head. I don’t have class until two so I don’t have to get up just yet. I just lay in bed, trying to block out the day. And under those sheets, it hits me that I called Baz ‘love’ for the first time. Huh. Guess his use of cute nicknames is rubbing off on me. It’s new, but so is a lot of stuff we’re doing, and I’ve like it all so far. I think I like this too.

My stomach growls like an angry lion. Guess that’s my cue to get up. I throw off my sheet and immediately shiver. Fuck, it’s chilly. I look over and see that Baz left my sweatshirt folded on my dresser, so I slip it on. I press it to my nose. It still sort of smells like him, a gorgeous mix of his cologne and fancy products. That makes me smile like an idiot, for whatever reason.

I saunter into the kitchen. Penny doesn’t have any class, so she’s sitting at the dining room table with a bunch of textbooks spread out. It’s like the school library threw up on it. The coffee in the pot is old, but I don’t feel like making a new one. So I pour it out and put it in the microwave.

“That’s disgusting, Si,” Penny sing songs.

“Shut up, Pen,” I reply with my most chipper voice. The microwave beeps. I drink from the mug and promptly spit the whole thing out in the sink. Oh Christ, it is disgusting.

“Told you so.”

I glare at her through the kitchen wall hole as I pour the coffee out. I start setting up the kettle for tea instead. Screw coffee. Baz says tea is better for you anyway.

“So,” she says very matter of factly, staring at me through our lovely wall hole, “Baz.”

She doesn’t continue. Nothing to explain what the fuck she’s talking about. She just looks at me with narrow eyes while twirling a pencil in her hand. I blink at her, silence hanging between us, and still nothing.

“Yeah, Baz,” I chuckle.

“You like him?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s cool.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah. Well, sorta.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Sort of?”

I shrug, scratching the back of my neck. “He’s nice in the important ways, y’know? Helps me out when I need it and treats me well. But he also teases me. In fun though. I tease him too, and I try to be nice. I hope he thinks I’m nice too.”

The kettle whistles. I get out my Adventure Time mug and a peppermint tea bag. When I look back at Penny, she’s twisting her lips, brow furrowed together, pencil tapping on the table rhythmically. That’s her concerned friend look. She always looks like this when I make a major life decision, or when I attempt cooking.

“And, you’re happy, right?” she asks carefully.

I blink at her in confusion again. That’s a weird question. I’ve been depressed before, sure, but I haven’t lately. So I’m not sure why Penny is concerned with my emotional state. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She chuckles and her concerned look goes away. That’s a relief. I don’t like making Penny worried. “Alright then. As long as you’re happy.”

“Okay,” I chuckle, laughing at the absurdity of this.“Fun talk, Pen. Enjoy studying.”

“Will do. Get to class on time!”

I scoff, walking towards my room with lovely steaming tea in hand. “If I got to class on time, I wouldn’t be Simon Snow Salisbury.”

Penny sighs with exasperation. Now that’s a sound I’ve heard since high school. It’s become weirdly comforting in a way. Penny’s always going to be a bit frustrated with me, and she still loves me anyway.

———————————————-

“Simon, what are you doing this weekend?”

I look up from my fancy grilled cheese, mouth still full. Baz has finished his panini and is now in his “villain position” again. One long leg over the other, bony elbows propped on his armrests, fingers pressed together. It’s still half intimidating-half badass. I swallow my food. Don’t want to be rude with him.

“This weekend?” I ask. “Uh, nothing. I don’t have anything planned. Why?”

He drums his fingers together slowly. Total Bond villain. “Well, I have a proposition for something we could do.”

That makes me put down my food and shift in my chair. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You see, my parents wanted me to come home for the whole break next week. But I couldn’t do that with my practice schedule. I still want to see them though, so I’m driving up for family dinner on Sunday.”

“Okay...”

“And the thing is...” He drums his fingers on the wooden table and chews at his lip. “I’ve mentioned you to them, and they’re wondering if you’d like to come up with me.”

I nearly drop my sandwich. I stare at Baz silently for an inappropriate amount of time. “Your parents," I say cautiously, "want me to come over for dinner?”

He nods slowly, face pinched together in nervousness. “Yes. They’re both eager to meet you, though they may not show it outwardly. But please, love, don’t feel pressured. I told them it might be too soon for this but they can be...insistent. It’s completely up to you though. They’ll survive if you say no.” He rubs his nose under his glasses. “Sorry, this is just a whole mess. I thought about not asking but I wanted to give you the choice.”

“O-Okay.” I nod, like a very slow moving bobble head. Wow, this is just a lot. I haven’t met a friend’s parents since Agatha. And we were dating, which made it very scary. This seems even scarier though. My heart is pulsing too fast. Fuck, why does this feel so intimidating?

Baz grabs my hand, thumb tracing the back of it. It immediately calms me down. “Don’t panic, love, no matter what decision you make I’ll understand. It’s not like we’ll stop speaking if you don’t come to dinner with my pushy, posh parents.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s up to you, love.”

Right, up to me... Fuck. Do I want to meet Baz’s posh family? Even though it’s scary? I mean, I guess it would be nice. They’re probably smart like Baz, cultured too, all that. It sounds intimidating, and it was with Baz at first, but I learned. And maybe I can learn with his family too. I'd like to know more about Baz, be part of another aspect of his life. That's what friends do, right?

“Okay,” I say, “I’d like to come.”

Baz’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falling open slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. It sounds fun, and I’d like to meet your parents. If they’re anything like you, they’ll be posh, really smart, and weirdly nice.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Well, that’s one way to see them.”

I giggle too, leaning closer to him over the the small table. “Okay, good to know. Anything I should bring?”

“Well, Sunday nights are our ‘fancy dinners’, so we dress up. You’ll have to wear a suit.”

I frown. “I don’t own a suit.”

He nods like some thoughtful scholar. “Hm, alright. Well, I’ve got one you could borrow. Is that alright?”

“Sure. If it fits me, Mr. Tall and Lanky.” I poke his muscular shoulder for emphasis, making him laugh.

“You’re not that much shorter than me, don’t worry. So we’ll go up Sunday afternoon and leave Monday morning. I’ll certainly be drinking, so I don’t want to drive home the night of.”

“Very responsible, love, very responsible.”

Baz chuckles softly, and I do too. He looks me in the eye. All I see is kindness. Who the hell ever said he was an arsehole? He’s actually incredible.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” he asks, his voice still concerned.

I adjust our hands, so we’re smooth palm to scratchy palm, and smile as big as I can. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Baz smiles back. Not as big, but it’s still kind and calm. He leans forward and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.”

And weirdly enough, neither can I.

———————————————-

AN: So the documentary is real and called "Highly Strung", and the book Penny mentions is real too. Hope you all liked this. I like writing this fluffy definitely-not-a-relationship haha. Tomorrow, "adventure" :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #university #no magic #human baz #oblivious simon #straight boy #mysnowbazfanfic

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poppyknitt · 6 years

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Collapse- A JSE Egos Fanfic

**WARNING: Yes I know this one begins with a joke in the recap but that’s because the final four to five fics of The Unraveling are super duper tense and have a fair bit of violence in them, and what better way to make it a bit less serious than to make a stupid joke? Also yeah just by the way if you get triggered by violence and slight gore you might not wanna read these final four or five. Especially the last three. Those are pretty heavy in violence. Just... overall proceed at your own risk kind of stuff.

(The Unraveling will have, at least, 15-16 parts. Maybe 14 if I scrap today’s fic. It will end when the Anti’s Birthday Special ends. From there, everything will be relative free real estate for me, so expect less violence, at least, until like, maybe november or december. I dunno. Depends on how long my sanity can survive on just emotion and character-sanity-based angst.)

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Recap: Marvin’s plans are proceeding fairly well, as so far, he has managed to gain control of two other egos, Jackieboyman and Chase, indirectly driving Signe out of the picture in the process, and has presumably done some other stuff that we don’t know yet. Seriously, I don’t even know. I’m literally writing most of this out as I come up with it. Now the four remaining egos wait in fearful silence, doing their absolute best to hold everything together as the uncertainty of what Dark, Anti, and/or Marvin may do next drives them all to desperate measures. Will Henrik be able to escape the future foretold by Seán’s dreams? Will Marvin realize what he’s doing before it’s too late? Will Robbie ever manage to help JJ and Henrik heal from the traumatic experiences they had when they were Anti’s puppets before it’s too late for them? Will Seán be able to stop Marvin? Will JJ and Chase ever get to see the full beauty of the night sky when no lights within at least a 100-kilometer-radius are on? Find out on thise episode of Seán-y Ball J!

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[October 8th, 7AM]

JJ looked to Henrik one last time before the doctor went to work.

“Are... Are you sure you’re okay to bring them in on your own, Henrik..? I.. I know your scars have been bugging you recently...” JJ signed worriedly to the doctor. Henrik had begrudgingly asked the younger ego to assist him with getting Chase and Jackie out to the car that morning once he realized he wasn’t going to be able to do it alone, because of the recently-reagitated scars he had initially recieved back during his 9-month vacation.

“No, JJ. I have assistants to help me vith zhat. You finish getting your morning routine over vith, and zhen you and Robbie vill go to Seán’s house, and spend zhe day zhere, since, vithout Chase, zhere is no one else vith zhe luxury or time to stay here and make sure Marvin does not harm you two, yes?” Henrik said. JJ would have objected, however, he knew Henrik wasn’t asking, at least, not this time. He went back inside as Henrik drove off to the hopsital, only to be “ambushed” by a glomp from Robbie as soon as he walked ten paces from the front door. The tackle-hug sent poor JJ to the ground, but thankfully, the landing wasn’t really all that painful.

“Robbie, what on earth did you have to hug me so violently for?” He signed, even though the zombie probably couldn’t see it.

“Jamie look sad. Mavvy used to say hug make sad better. So I hug Jamie. Jamie happy now?” Robbie explained.

“... Will you let me go eat my breakfast if I say yes?”

“Yes. Do not want to keep Jamie from food. Hunger not pleasant.” Robbie said, provoking a small, genuine smile from JJ.

“Okay. I’m happy now, see?” He pointed to his face, and Robbie smiled, letting go of the older ego. JJ stood up, and helped his brother up, too, before going to the kitchen to get himself some food.

Honestly, aside from having to help Henrik with getting Jackie and Chase’s unconscious bodies into the doctor’s car, the morning had been fairly normal for JJ. He’d gotten up, put on daytime-appropriate clothes(though, it was pretty much the same basic outfit he worr every day), gone to Robbie’s room to check on him, walked downstairs and made sure Henrik had gotten enough coffee and food, gotten hugged(though, be fair, this one was a little more violent than the regular hugs he got) by Robbie until he smiled, and got himself some breakfast. Had it not been for Jackie and Chase’s unfortunate ...situations.., he probably would have gone to check on them, too. Actually, speaking of which, Chase had been unusually quiet this morning. JJ didn’t seem to remember the locator’s screen lighting up as text slowly appeared on the screen even once since he went to sleep last night.

It wasn’t until he heard Marvin’s voice behind him that he realized not asking Henrik if he could take the two of them to Seán’s house on his way to work was a bad idea.

“It’s good to see you again, Jameson.”

~~~~

Jackie did his best to help Henrik and the other staff at the hospital get Chase set up with life support and such, but of course, since his vision was still heavily clouded by whatever spells Marvin had used on him, the most he could do was help stabilize the equipment. When they were done with that, Jackie went over to the empty bed in the room they had been placed in, and sat there silently, as still as a statue, if you ignored the slow movements of his chest as he breathed.

He listened to a couple of nurses conversing with Henrik beyond the now-closed door, having nothing else to do.

“What should we do about the one that is still able to move around?”

“Surely he’s stable enough to continue to stay with you, or perhaps even his family?”

“Vell, at zhe moment, yes, he is stable. But I am afraid he has been treading the line between zhat stability and instability since he vas... attacked. I do not fear for him vhen he is awake, however, I am afraid his brain likes to vander into and out of unconsciousness as much as he did vhen he vas here last. He has not shown signs of needing life support vhen zhis does happen, as it never lasts longer zhen a few hours, but I do not vant to take zhe risk zhat he vill not get vorse.”

“What about their eyes? Is their condition a result of some sort of horrible, undiscovered disease?”

“No, no. Notzhing of zhe sort. I am afraid zhat zheir conditions are not somezhing ve can heal vith medicine. Ve can only vait, vait and hope zhey get better.”

Well, at least the doc had some faith that he would heal.

[12PM]

JJ stood between Marvin and Robbie, his eyes wide with fear as Chase desperately tried to figure out a way to save them without violence, since none of them really wanted to hurt Marvin. Initially, Marvin’s intentions had clearly been nothing more than to sit down and have a friendly little chat between two friends, like old times. JJ had foolishly accepted the proposal, wanting to believe that maybe Marvin had decided that he had caused enough destruction and pain.

That idea had only changed when Marvin refused to let the two leave for Seán’s house.

———

JJ struggled against the Magician’s grip, his eyes wide as he realized just how much of a mistake it had been to stay in the house as long as they had once Henrik left. Robbie was hiding behind him, as Marvin’s painfully strong grip on his arm prevented him from leaving.

“Please, Marvin! You don’t have to do this! I- We were just trying to go to the park, I promise!” JJ signed desperately, tears of pain threatening to spill from his tear ducts at any second. Marvin briefly narrowed his eyes at the younger ego, before loosening his grip on his arm just enough so that it wasn’t painful, but was still strong enough to keep him there.

“Sorry, Jamie. I’m afraid it’s too dangerous for you to leave. I’m sure Seán would understand why you didn’t come if you told him you had to stay because we were afraid that Anti would be prowling outside, waiting for you to leave, so he could capture you again.” Marvin smiled. For some reason, something in the back of his mind that sounded a whole lot like Chase told JJ that he could trust Marvin. He relaxed a bit, thinking that Chase had figured out how to communicate with him without using the locator.

“... I... Okay. We’ll stay here, Marvin... Just... let me go, okay..?” He signed, still a bit terrified.

“Good. I’m glad that you two still trust me.” Marvin’s face read nothing more than pure happiness and gratitude as he spoke.

———

“I gave you a choice, Jameson. You still have time to change your mind, you know.” Marvin said, his eyes entirely emotionless, as the threatening purple aura of magic surrounding him pulsated strongly. He had been storing magic since he took control of Jackie, because he knew the confrontation with Anti he had planned was going to require much more magic than he’d ever even used in his entire two years of existence.

“I won’t help you, Marvin! What you want to do is wrong, regardless of the fact that we have the same enemy! You’re only going to be making yourself out to be as bad as him if you go through with this!” JJ signed, still protectively blocking Marvin from getting to Robbie. He realized that he probably shouldn’t have said that last part as soon as Marvin responded, and braced himself for whatever came next.

“Fine! Have it your way, then!” Marvin spat angrily, and before JJ could even realize what was happening, Marvin had used some unknown kind of spell to violently slam the younger ego into a wall, dazing him instantly.

Robbie yelled for JJ, and begged Marvin to stop, but he was just shoved aside as well, hitting the wall head on with a sickening CRACK!. JJ ran to the now-unconscious form of the zombie, wishing he could scream for Robbie to get up, too terrified and dazed to sign to anyone or anything at this point. He scrambled back into a corner with Robbie cradled in his arms, tears flowing down his face, as Marvin approached his shaken form.

“I’m sorry, Jameson.” Was the last thing he heard, before his brain briefly exploded into a frenzy of pain, as everything went black.

Jackie’s eyes snapped open, bringing his consciousness back into the physical plane as he felt a brief jab of pain envelope his brain. Something in the back of his mind told him something was seriously wrong, so, on instinct, he got up, and half-blindedly made his way out of the room. The hallway was mostly empty, as the nurses and doctors were mostly checking up on other patients or in the ER or something. He made his way a bit hap-hazardly up the stairs, using the astral plane to send a message to the locator he knew was with Henrik as he did so.

“Henrik! I’m heading to your office now! I need you to be ready! It’s urgent!”

“Vhat?! Vhy?! Jackie, I told you to stay in zhe room ve gave you!” The response came fairly quickly.

“No time to explain. I’ll tell you more when I get to you!”

Once he got to Schneep’s office, he knocked urgently on his door.

“Vait! Be patient, Jackie! I am coming!” He heard the muffled voice of the doctor through the door. With each passing moment, Jackie only got increasingly anxious about what could possibly be happening back at the Egos’ house right now.

~~~~

Seán slammed the door to the Ego’s house open, not even bothering to shut it as he frantically searched the place for any sign that JJ and Robbie were alright. It didn’t take him long to find them, luckily, but that was because the room they were in looked like someone had set a bomb off in it, and they were huddled up together in a corner. Robbie was half-awake, clinging desperately onto the unconscious form of his dapper brother, just like he had been in the most recent iteration of the hospital dream. The only difference between this and the dream, however, was that neither of them appeared to be under a mind control spell like Jackie and Chase were.

As he called the hospital, the only thing Seán could think of was how he could have prevented this if he had decided to come check on them when he realized it was two hours after the time they had set for when they would get there by- JJ was never late- instead of just brushing it off as them having a slow morning.

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Part Twelve of

The Unraveling

(A very big chapter in a slightly darker version of the Jacksepticeye & Markiplier Egoverse)

Part Thirteen

@antis-loyal-puppet

@chaoticcrimsonrose

@septic-dr-schneep

@spaceykidd0

@tiny-septic-puppet

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elsaclack · 6 years

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This is really random but I saw a fic of yours about Amy being sick (I think the prompt was "Amy yells at the Vulture") but I can't find the full piece anywhere. Is it on AO3 anywhere? I love your writing and I completely understand if you just didn't want it out anymore. Just thought I'd ask! :)

i thought it was but i just went and searched my entire work history (including all 70+ chapters of those god-forsaken oneshot collections) and i couldn’t find it anywhere!! i guess i forgot to cross-post it back when i first wrote it, and it got lost when i deleted the original elsaclack. but i just scoured my docs list and found it buried in a random folder so i’ll repost it here and add it to the newest one-shot collection on ao3 :)

fun fact: this was written almost exactly 2 years ago!!! meaning that my writing skills have developed considerably since i actually wrote this. aka please don’t judge me if this seems like a sudden regression haha

also i wanna tag @phil-the-stone-art bc we actually developed the concept of The List together so she’s at least 35% responsible for this fic lmao

under the cut!

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much. She prides herself on her meticulous nightly hygienic rituals, on the cabinet full of multivitamins and minerals she takes on a daily basis in her bathroom, on the rigorous workout routine and diet she keeps herself on each week to maintain perfect health. She lives her life by a very tight plan (laid out in checklists and carefully organized in color-coded binders) that simply does not afford her any extra time to be sick.

Which is why, when she wakes up one Tuesday morning with a head stuffed full of cotton and violent shivers rolling down her spine, she gets up to start her usual routine in spite of the fact that she feels like she hasn’t actually slept in three weeks. Jake’s still snoring on the other side of the bed, another hour away from getting up to haphazardly dress in whatever flannel he can find lying on her bedroom floor that doesn’t smell too dirty, and he doesn’t even stir at the sound of her shuffling footsteps or running nose.

She drags herself into the bathroom, shuts the door, and flicks the lights on. Her reflection honestly makes her jump back an inch or two; she’s never seen her skin quite so pale, or bruises beneath her eyes quite so dark, or her lips quite so visibly dry and cracked. She reaches out to grip the edges of her sink and realizes that her arms and hands are trembling, and when she leans a bit more weight onto them she notes that her knees are quaking beneath her.

All in all, not a great start to the day.

She presses on, though, ignoring her running nose and congested head and general exhaustion. The shower helps a little, but not much.

When she shuts the water off, she hears Jake moving around in her bedroom, and her heart skips a beat. She hadn’t even realized she’d been in the shower that long. “Jake?” She calls as she wraps a towel around herself. Her voice is coarse and rough.

“Hey,” he knocks lightly at the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah - yeah, could you, um…there’s a binder out on the dining room table, should say something on the cover about that case I was working on last night -” she clears her throat and winces at the sharp pain that responds “- could you grab it and put it in my bag?”

“Sure,” he’s quiet for a moment and Amy’s left to gently rub at her temples with the heels of her hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound awful.”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

But she’s not. Her knees are still quaking and vertigo has suddenly set in and she’s swaying, reaching out to grab the tiled edge of her shower. Her hand slips against the wet surface and she falls forward, shoulder banging painfully into the tiles.

The door swings open and Jake bursts inside in a panic. “Ames? Oh my God!” She suddenly realizes that she’d sunk down to a crouching position upon falling. He kneels next to her, gently pulling her away from the shower and letting her lean heavily into him. Her head falls against his shoulder, forehead pressed to the crook of his neck, and she hears him tut. “You’re burning up, babe,” he says quietly.

“I’m fine,” her voice fails half-way through and she ends up finishing in an unconvincing whisper.

“You’re not going to work today,” he tells her.

“But -”

“You almost fainted just now, Amy. You’re staying home sick today.”

She tries to argue but he pulls her up off the ground, keeping his touch firm and steady should gravity leave her again, and her voice completely dies on the way out of the bathroom. He lets her whisper weak arguments as he steers her gently toward the bed, humming and nodding along as he pulls fresh sweatpants up her legs and eases one of his academy shirts over her head. He pushes back on her good shoulder with just enough force that she lays down and pulls the comforter up to her chin. Her eyelids flutter closed when he presses a kiss against her forehead.

“I’ll tell Captain Holt where you are,” he says quietly. His hand finds hers against the mattress, fingers twisting through hers. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She’s asleep before he even gets out the front door.

A few hours later she’s roused by the sound of her phone vibrating on her bedside table. Sunlight streams in through her window and she squints, disoriented, fumbling around with semi-numb fingers for her phone.

From: Jake PeraltaHow u feelin? Miss u at work. Charles says he’ll bring u goat soup later lol

It hurts to even swallow, and Amy has to work really hard to keep from whining at the splitting headache igniting behind her right eye.

To: Jake PeraltaFeel like garbage. I haev a headache. Im afraid to get out of bed for meds. Miss u too

She waits five minutes for him to respond, and when her phone remains motionless, she closes her eyes and lets it fall against her chest.

Precisely twenty minutes after that, she hears her front door open. It closes again and she hears footsteps crossing her living room and it only just hits her that someone is in her apartment when those footsteps cross the threshold of her bedroom.

“Hey, hey, don’t get out of bed,” Jake says soothingly. Amy falls back against her pillow from her struggling half-sitting up position as Jake drops a plastic grocery bag at the foot of her bed and perches on the edge of the mattress beside her. He replaces her phone back on her bedside table with one hand and smooths his other palm over her forehead (and she only just then realizes that she’s sweating) and grimaces. “You’re still burning up,” he says, running his fingers through her hair just above her forehead.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, and the words slip out between two wet coughs.

He frowns and gently scratches his short nails against her scalp. “I brought Advil,” he says, casting an absent glance over his shoulder at the bag he brought in, “and stuff to make soup. It’s the recipe for Nana’s matzoh ball soup.” She raises her eyebrows beneath his palm and he grins down at her. “Don’t tell Charles, but it’s literally the best soup you’ll ever have and it’ll cure your dumb cold in twenty minutes or less.”

“Promise?”

He leans down and pecks a kiss against her forehead. “Promise,” he says when he leans away. “I’m gonna go make some and bring it in here and you’ll be back on your feet before the end of the day. Peralta Guarantee.” He winks.

She sinks down into the mattress as much as she can when he stands up, opening her eyes only when he comes back in with two Advil tablets and a glass half-full of water. Within minutes she begins hearing pots and pans knock around in her kitchen, and through her cloudy mind she registers that her stomach is rumbling in irritation.

“Alright,” he announces from her doorway. Her eyes split open and he’s carefully balancing the soup bowl on top of her dresser. “I’ll help you sit up, don’t move.”

He pulls her up with one hand and waits until she’s sitting up steadily before hurriedly stacking her pillows up behind her. She breathes a sigh of relief when she leans back, not realizing just how much of a strain sitting up is until that moment. He hurries back to where the soup is still steaming and carefully brings it over to her, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth for how hard he has to concentrate on not spilling any.

He nestles it in her lap, and she smiles, because he looks so proud of himself and he’s really so adorable.

Jake stays with her until she finishes the whole bowl and then he takes her dishes from her and quickly rinses them out in her sink.

“I’ll be back after work to check on you and to finish cleaning that, okay?” He calls from her doorway.

She hums hoarsely and fades out of consciousness.

An hour later, Amy wakes up feeling half-human. Her head and throat still hurt and she still can’t breathe out of her nose, but her brain doesn’t feel quite so fried and her limbs don’t feel quite so weak anymore.

Jake was right - the soup really did help.

Not as much as Nyquil would, but…still.

She kicks the comforter off and moves to sit up, and her phone suddenly falls into her lap from her chest. She pauses, staring at it, trying to remember when it ended up back there. She has no new calls or texts, but when she unlocks the screen, there’s a new note pulled up.

Things i want t odo to jake in bed

Amy feels flames engulf her face that have absolutely nothing to do with her fever. The list has twelve items on it, each one raunchier and riddled with more spelling errors than the last, and by the time she gets to the end of the note she’s covering her face in embarrassment. She’s got just the vaguest memory of typing it (and it’s really more of a dream of a memory than anything else), but none of it will solidify into more than just faint snapshots in her head.

But the more she rereads it, the more heat begins building in her body - heat from the mental images, heat from the germs ravaging her body, heat from the thick comforter still draped over her legs.

She has got to go get some Nyquil.

Santiago Determination blazes through her as she drags herself out of bed, shoulders set and jaw clenched as she pulls one of Jake’s hoodies over her frame and slides her feet into her rarely-worn flip-flops. Part of her feels guilty, knowing that if Jake was the one home sick she’d insist on him texting her anything he needs so that he would stay in bed and recover faster, but she brushes it off as she grabs her purse.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

She blames her scattered brain on the matzoh ball soup later. She blames her compromised detective skills and her lack of attention to detail and her general disorientation on the soup. Because under normal circumstances, no matter how sick she truly is, she would definitely have noticed the Vulture browsing the low aisles of the bodega around the corner from her house immediately upon walking through the front doors.

But as it is, she doesn’t, which means that he gets a visual on her before she’s even aware of being spotted.

She’s so busy perusing the medicine section toward the back that she doesn’t notice him stalking around the shelves, doesn’t feel him peeking around the Doctor Scholl’s cardboard display, doesn’t hear him mutter at a mother and daughter to get out of his way as he follows her ambling walk down the aisle. She isn’t aware of the danger until he’s basically on top of her.

“Yo, Santiago,” he says, his voice low and curdling. She winces and turns slowly, and he’s leaned against the shelves to her left, leering down at her. A handcart hangs between them; it’s full of at least thirty boxes of condoms, she realizes when she glances down. Her stomach shifts unpleasantly. “You look homeless.”

“Get out of the way,” she whispers hoarsely.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Peralta got you screaming so hard every night you lost your voice?”

Heat bursts through her cheeks and she glances back, meeting the scandalized look on that same mother’s face with an apologetic grimace. “Shut up.” She snaps as fiercely as she can.

He smirks, because her voice only comes in bursts. “Damn, you really let yourself go, didn’t you?” His eyes rove her body and she’s suddenly very keenly aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear beneath her sweatpants. She can feel her face blossoming.

“Whatever.” She turns away quickly and digs her phone out of her purse, cursing when she hears the Vulture following her down the aisle. She dials Jake’s number quickly, and he answers after just two rings.

“Hey, is everything oka-”

“I need you go come to the bodega by my apartment,” she whispers. She can feel her hand trembling again and she curses whatever part of her thought it would be a good idea to do this on her own.

“Wait, what? Why are you -”

“I thought I could walk over here and get what I needed without you, but -” she winces at the sound of the Vulture’s laugh, loud and obnoxious behind her. “But I ran into someone and I need you to come save me.”

“Santiago, look - they do make extra-small condoms! Should I put a whole box in for you and Peralta or is that too many?”

She hears a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Is that the Vulture?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not faint.”

“I’m doing my best, but please hurry.”

Amy starts pacing up and down the aisles, doing her best to block the Vulture out. He trails along behind her, alternating between making lewd sexual innuendos about random items on the shelves they pass (“Everything’s a sex toy if you try hard enough,” while pointing out a plastic broom) and insulting her general appearance (“Y’know, you were much sexier before Peralta dragged you down to his level of ugliness. Just make sure your ass doesn’t get as fat as his”). It’s around the time they make it back to the medicine aisle that he turns to making fun of Jake himself.

“I still can’t believe you’re with that loser,” he laughs as Amy finally swipes a bottle of Nyquil off a lower shelf. She stands up slowly, gripping the shelves above her firmly, as a wave of vertigo hits her once again. “You’re hot as shit usually - not right now, obviously - I bet you could sleep with any guy you want.”

She clenches her jaw and tries to calculate how long it’s been since she hung up with Jake.

“I bet the sex is really boring, too,” the Vulture continues. “I bet it’s all missionary and full of, like, eye-contact and shit. I bet he tells you he loves you because you don’t make fun of his tiny weiner.”

“Okay, y’know what?” She snaps, and suddenly her voice is half back. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with missionary if you do it right. Secondly, you’re full of crap if you really think eye-contact is boring. Third, you’re right, he does tell me he loves me, because he actually loves me, you sexist pig. And fourth, he’s not tiny.”

“Whatever. He’s a joke, just like you, and I bet the sex sucks and you’re both so bad at it that you can’t even tell that it sucks.”

She knows people are staring, but her brain just isn’t functioning right. She yanks her phone out of her purse and quickly scrolls over to her list. “Jake’s the best sex I’ve ever had, okay? In fact, he’s so good that I made a list!” She shoves her phone in his face and scrolls quickly, grinning in manic triumph at the dumbfounded look on his face. “I made a list of all the things I want to do with him because he’s so unbelievably good. You wish you were as good as him.”

He is, for once, speechless. Amy locks her phone and steps back, smug grin on her face. The Vulture’s eyes flicker to something over her shoulder and she sees the spark of recognition in his face; when she turns, she feels her stomach drop down to her toes.

Jake’s standing at the end of the aisle, looking just as dumbstruck as the Vulture. She gasps, and the sound comes out like a ragged squeak. His mouth is hanging open but his brows draw together at the sound.

“Ja- Jake,” she says hoarsely.

This seems to snap him out of his stupor. His mouth snaps closed and he immediately begins striding down the aisle toward her and there’s something new in his eyes - smug and barely-contained glee, maybe - when he throws his arm around her shoulders. “Hi, honey,” he says, laying a kiss against her temple and pulling the bottle of Nyquil from her grasp. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Yeah, well, you’re both a couple of losers!” The Vulture shouts after them. Jake twists around and flashes his middle finger at him and grins into Amy’s hair at the sound of his splutters. “I’m buying thirty-five boxes of condoms!”

“You’re amazing.” Jake murmurs once they’re outside of the store. “But next time, just call me instead of trying to go get stuff on your own. I really don’t mind doing it for you. That’s what boyfriends are for.”

She sinks into the passenger’s seat of his car and sighs in relief; her body is already aching from the exertion of just a lap around the bodega. She feels Jake slide in on the driver’s side, feels the engine roar to life beneath her and the air conditioner tickle across her face. The car lurches a little when he puts it in drive and then his free hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.

“I’m sorry about…that.” She whispers once he’s pulled away from the curb.

“It’s fine, but I really mean it about calling me next time, okay? ‘Specially since you almost fainted this morning and everything, like, what would’ve happened if you’d fallen and hit your head and they took you to the hospital? They would’ve called Manny and it would’ve taken him three hours to get here and -”

“Wait, no, they’d call you,” she interrupts. “Manny’s not my emergency contact anymore. You are.”

He turns his head toward her and stares.

“I changed it two years ago, Peralta. Way before we started dating. I just figured, y’know, since you’re my partner and everything, you’d be able to get there the fastest. And, besides, that’s not even what I was talking about. I meant…the stuff I said to the Vulture. The list.”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I don’t really care. The guy’s an ass. I could hear him yelling all the way from the front doors. Besides, you weren’t lying.”

He squeezes her hand a few times in quick succession and she snorts. “So you’re…not mad? About any of it?”

“I’m more curious than anything else. Do I get to look at the list, too? Or is that just between you and the Vulture?”

“I can’t stand you.”

She does let him see it once they’re back to her place. He reads each item carefully three times over without ever saying a word, and then stands and grabs his laptop and a notepad off of her dining room table. When she asks what he’s doing, he responds with a muttered “research” and then promptly tells her to finish her soup.

The night passes in a haze that has nothing to do with the cold or the soup or the medicine, and the next morning she wakes to the sounds of Jake’s congested voice explaining through chest-rumbling coughs that neither he nor Amy would be making it into work that day.

#em answers #brooklyn nine nine #amy santiago #jake peralta #jake x amy #my b99 fics #god i've been writing for b99 for a Really Long Time #sos #Anonymous

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lord-taika · 6 years

Text

The girl (Toni Topaz x Fem!Reader)

Can you do a Toni Topaz imagine where reader is Fp's daughter and she and Toni are dating and all the serpents and students of southside high know but jug doesn't and shes scared to tell him because when she told her mom it didn't end the way she wanted and she doesn't want to lose him but hes supportive of them

A/n: This hits close to home so i’m just going to put my experience. Also I love each and everyone of you so if you ever feel like you cant talk to someone about you being LGBTQA+ or being curious, you can always come to me and ill try my hardest to be the biggest support system in your life.

“So, how was your first day at south side?” I asked my older twin brother as I tried making us something to eat. “It’s a literal hell hole. It’s falling apart, the kids are doing drugs in the hallway, the teachers don't care, and on top of that, I have to sit with some snakes so some cannibals don’t come after. Oh, and don’t even get me started on that giant oaf” He said placing his computer on the table. “ I honestly don’t know how you managed to survive at that school if you could even call it that.” He said causing me to laugh. “Well someone had to stay with Dad after mom left and took jellybean while you decided to move to the Northside,” I said realizing how harsh the words came out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” “Yes you did. But I get why you would be mad too if you left me and I was left with a drunken dad.” “Hey, let's go get pops and you can tell me more about your day, cause I defiantly can’t cook today,” I said smiling at the oldest Jones. “Hey kids, what can I do you for?” Pops asked as we sat down in Jugs regular booth. “Let me get a hamburger, No tomatoes, no Onions and without cheese and an order or curly fries with a medium vanilla shake.” “Make that 2″ Jug said smiling at the old man that practically watched us grow up. Smiling at us he went back to the kitchen and I began asking jug more about his day. “Did you at least make some friends?” I asked, Knowing how much my brother liked to refer to himself as a ‘lone wolf', whereas I was as social as they’d come. “I did actually. She was showing me around school today, Toni Topaz. You know her?” He asked instantly catching my attention.

Did I know her? The 5′5, pink haired, Photo loving, doc marten wearing girl practically stole my heart the first time I laid my eyes on her. My girlfriend of almost a year. “Y/n/n? You okay?” Jug asked as he saw me space out. “Yes. Yes. I’m great. What about Toni?” I asked with maybe too much excitement. “She's a great girl. Loves crime movies. Oh, and she told me that I should see if I could open the red and gold again.” He said as our food was presented to us. “She’s amazing. You’ll love her.” I said already being happy that my brother liked her without actually knowing her

. ~Next morning~ “Are you going to school today?” Jug asked as I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Nodding, I closed the door, before getting started on everything I usually did before school. After deciding to leave my face bare and leave my long black hair in its usual state, i made my way over to my dads closet before grabbing my favorite olive green shirt that made its way to my mid-thigh, pairing that with some black ripped jeans, white converse and the signature leather jacket with the bright, two-headed serpent on the back. “Is that dad's jacket?” Jug asked as I made my way into the living room where he was putting on his signature grey beanie. “No, I worked hard for this jacket. It is his shirt though” I said grabbing a banana and heading to the door. “Since when are you a serpent?” Jug asked locking the door behind him and catching up to me. “I don’t remember. a while now I guess.” I said getting in the driver's seat of the old pick up. “why’d you join?” Jug asked as I pulled out of the sunny side trailers and made my way to school. “ Family. They had my back, I have theirs.” I simply said pulling into the student parking lot already filled with motorcycles and cars that looked like they would break at any second.

“Do we have any classes together?” I asked Jug as we made our way to the school. “I think we might have first. but that’s as much as I know.” Jug said as we spotted my friends, Fangs, Pea and Toni. “Oh great. the giant oaf.” Jughead mumbled causing me to laugh. “He’s not that bad. I said as we made our way over to them.” “Welcome back Jones” Fangs said as I made my way to my girlfriend. Toni pulled me in for a kiss but I redirected it to a hug, surely leaving her confused. “Hey why don’t you guys get to class, we”ll catch up in a bit. I just need to talk to Toni real quick.” I said hoping the guys and jug would leave so I could explain to my girlfriend why she wasn’t being smothered in kisses. Thankfully they left without asking questions. “So you want to tell me what that was about?” Toni asked crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry. It’s just Jug. I haven’t told him about us and I want to wait for the right time.” I said trying to pull her closer to me only to be pushed back. “So you mean to tell me that for those 11 months we’ve been together you’ve never once mentioned it to your brother? really Y/N?” She said, the anger in her voice quickly replaced by sadness and then again by anger. “Ton, I want to tell him I just-” “You’re what? embarrassed or ashamed?” Toni asked. “Neither. Look, Toni -” “No, you know what? Come talk to me when you stop hiding our relationship from you brother. I don’t want to be with someone that isn’t as proud of having me as their girlfriend as I am of them.” And with that, she left. Well fuck.

I spent my first three classes trying to talk, text and even write notes to Toni but all I got in return was silence. I was hoping that during lunch I could actually talk to her, so as soon as the bell rang signaling it was lunch time I practically ran to the lunchroom. Knowing that Toni usually sat with pea and Fangs I made my way over to their usual table before noticing she wasn’t there yet so I sat down. “I get that you’re hungry but the school food is hardly anything to run for.” Fangs said causing pea to chuckle and me to flip both of them off. “Have either of you seen Toni?” I asked facing them. Before either of them could say anything I spotted her pink hair coming this way before she noticed me. “Toni Can w-” I started only to receive an eye roll before she decided to sit with other serpents. “What was that about?” Pea asked as I placed my head on the table before groaning. “ I fucked up and now she doesn’t want to talk to me. “ I said looking up at the boys in front of me. “What’d you do that made her so mad?” Fangs asked, generally concerned. “I haven't told Jug about Toni and I so she thinks I’m ashamed or something.” “Are you?” Pea asked. “No. Never. I would scream it from the tallest building in the world that I’m in love Toni Topaz. I would travel to hell and back. Hell, I'd even transfer to Riverdale High If Toni asked me to.” I said looking over my shoulder to see Toni laughing at something James, On of our new members said. “You got to see it from her point of view. You’ve been together for almost a year but you haven’t even told you twin brother about your relationship. and on top of that when she goes to kiss you, you turn that into a hug. I’d be pretty hurt if I were Toni.” Fangs said trying to put everything into perspective. “I can’t believe I'm actually going to listen to you idiots, but how do I fix this?” “Gotta go to where your problem started. Tell your brother about Toni. “ Pea said. God, for two idiots they actually give good advice. And so I was off, trying to find my raven-haired, anti-social twin brother in this hell hole.

“There you are,” I said finding him inside the old abandoned room that was once the red and gold, typing away on his computer. “What happened to you?” He asked noticing me trying to catch my breath. “Holy fuck I'm out of shape,” I said in between pants. “Is that what you came to tell me?” He asked laughing a bit. “No. I need to talk to you. It’s important so I'm going to need you to keep your comments and questions t yourself until after I'm done. “ I said coming to sit in the chair in front of him. “Okay, how do I start this? You know Toni? Okay well, I am completely head over heels in love with her and we’ve been together for almost a year.” I said looking up trying to read his face. “Almost a year and I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. I didn’t even know you were into girls. Why didn’t I know you were into girls?” I asked me. “Because you remind me of mom.” I said causing him to raise his eyebrow as I telling me to elaborate. “Do you remember that time mom and I got into a fight and anytime I would walk into a room she’d leave and you didn’t see us talking for at least two weeks? Well, I came out to mom during that time and since she grew up really religious she tried telling me that I was confused and that it was a phase so when I explained to her it wasn’t she began ignoring me since she grew up that way. And since you remind me of her I was scared that you’d start cutting me out of your life. “ I told him as he tried to register everything. “You know I'd never leave you. especially for a stupid reason. We’ve been together since the womb, we’re going to be together until we die, maybe even after that. But why are you telling me this now?” “Because Toni and I got into a bit of an altercation and she told me that she thinks I’m ashamed of being with her since I didn’t tell you about us. I don’t want her to ever feel like that so I figured, in order for me to fix things it was time I tell you about us. “ I told him. “So, what are you going to do now?” Jug asked me, as he started packing up his things. “Gotta go find my lady and prove to her that I love her.” I said causing him to smile. “Go get her.” he said as we walked out, and started walking to our last period of the day, English.

“look, there she is.” Jug said nudging me as we spotted Toni talking to fangs and sweet pea in front of her locker. Pulling jug with me I made my way over to her. I noticed Fangs nudge her, causing her to look over at us. “Whats this?” She asked turning her attention to me. “ Forsythe Pendleton Jones III this is Toni Topaz, my girlfriend of 11 incredible months and the girl that stole my heart. Toni Topaz, this is Forsythe Pendleton Jughead Jones III my twin brother.” I said looking at her hoping to get some kind f reaction out of her. “What are you doing?” she asked raising her eyebrows at me. “You told me that you felt that I was ashamed or embarrassed to be with you, and that has never been the case. I figured it was time the two most important people in my life officially met. Look, I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like i was ashamed to be with you because that has never nor will ever be the case. I am completely head over heels, madly in love with you and I want the whole world to know it. “ “God, you’re so cheesy. “ She said laughing. “Does this mean you accept my apology?” I asked only to be pulled into a soft yet tender kiss that always makes me weak in the knees. “you make me want to throw up.” Sweetpea said ruing the moment. “You’re just mad because I actually have someone that loves me.” I said sticking my tongue out at him while wrapping my arms around my girlfriend. “what do you think about coming to dinner with Jug and I so my two favorite people could get to know each other?” “Where are we going?” Fangs asked putting his arm around Toni and I. “You’re going home. We’re going to stuff our faces in burgers and shakes.” Toni said, placing another kiss on my lips before we all made our way to English.

*** I hope you guys liked reading this. As always: like, reblog, leave comments, questions or concerns. Until next time****

#toni topaz #toni topaz x reader #toni topaz imagine #jughead jones #sweet pea #fangs fogarty #south side serpents #bughead #jughead x reader #riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale x reader

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

11 | gangsta; sweetpea

Notes:

I warn in advance, yet again. There’s not quite as much going on in this chapter as the previous one but there is still A LOT. And Dave kind of makes an indirect appearance. Via text.

This is the final part I have already written and waiting to go. I know, I know.. Literally no one asked for this. But you’re getting it anyway. Catch you guys with more of this fic that literally nobody has asked for in a few days, probs.

Warnings:

loosely canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tensionstarting now, actually - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…eventual sexual content / a virgin original character- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there. revenge porn / grooming behaviors + an older boyfriend that Alyssa had in Chicago and moved to Riverdale to get away from are hinted at here. And this chapter might not be the only one in which we hear about Dave Novak. - I put this here so it doesn’t trigger anybody. I tried to be very very very vague when I wrote out things.. But if you can’t handle it, I understand trust me... This is not going to be a huge part of the fic, no worries. It will have a small arc, but then it’ll be resolved.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

ELEVEN.

We all seemed to have the same idea. We wound up down at the quarry at the same time. Cheryl and I emerged with Kevin from the path leading away from Riverdale High to find Toni and Sweet Pea were already sitting on the bank, staring out at the water.

Cheryl took a seat beside Toni, leaning against her side with an arm around her. I sat down between Sweet Pea and Kevin. Kevin’s eyes darted around the area. “So this is what the quarry looks like in daylight.”

“Mhm.” I mumbled. Not really caring about any potential awkwardness as I found myself leaning against Sweet Pea’s side. Gazing out at the water. Sweet Pea slipped an arm around my shoulder but I didn’t notice it until a little later when his hand squeezed my upper arm just as I started to cry a little.

People had been somber and quiet all through the day. Weatherbee announced the death on the intercom with morning announcements and while you had some Bulldogs who were a lot less hesitant to openly say good riddance, you had quite a few people who were just saddened that everything played out the way it did and resulted in Fangs death.

“Midge shouldn’t have been with us that night. I can’t stop thinking that whatever the Hood saw that night gave him the impression that Midge was down here doing something she wasn’t.” Kevin sighed, shaking his head sadly. By now, he’d told Cheryl and I the whole story.

Midge had been posing as a date for both Kevin and Fangs. Helping them slip off to be together now and then. It explained why the weeks leading up to Fangs death, we saw a fair bit less.

“You guys meeting didn’t have anything to do with what happened.” Sweet Pea mused aloud, glancing at Kevin.

Kevin eyed him warily. The entire walk down to the quarry, he’d been worried that coming down with us wasn’t a good idea, that Toni and Sweet Pea might not welcome him being there, but we explained that he and Fangs weren’t exactly a deep secret among the four of us. “I tried to tell Dad to let him go out the back of the station entirely, but Minetta intervened. Insisted that he went out the front or the side.”

“Because Minetta’s a fucking prick who only wanted to make sure his stupid half assed attempt at ‘justice’ got put on the news at 8.” Toni muttered. Reaching out to give Kevin’s shoulder a squeeze. Kevin took a shaky breath or two and nodded.

“I just can’t stop feeling like somehow, if one thing happened just a little differently.”

“Me too.” the rest of us muttered in unison before we all fell silent again. The late afternoon sun sank lower in the sky. Toni stood, pulling Cheryl off the ground. “We need to be getting back to the campground… Getting ready for the last practice of the play... Kevin, if you wanna walk with us…”

Kevin nodded, pulling himself off the ground. Glancing back at Sweet Pea and I. I called out to the three of them that I’d see them later.

This left Sweet Pea and I down on the bank alone.

And for about ten minutes, neither of us really said anything.

The chill started to take over the air and I hugged myself a little. Wishing I’d worn more than the thin black and white striped long sleeve top I was wearing with my favorite jeans. Sweet Pea must have seen me doing it, because he moved to sit behind me. One of his legs on either side of my body as his arms wrapped around me and he propped his chin on my shoulder. “Better, Cherry?”

I nodded. Keeping quiet. Thinking about everything that had happened lately. I leaned myself back against Sweet Pea before I even realized I’d done it. He gave a quiet growl. His arms squeezing me just a little. Putting me even closer to him.

“None of this feels real. It feels like a nightmare.” I mumbled after a few seconds of heavy silence. Sweet Pea muttered a quiet “Yeah.” in agreement.

I turned around to face him, my legs settling over his upper thighs. He pulled me onto his lap completely. Raising his hands so that they rested on either side of my face. His thumb rolling over my cheeks. I’d apparently started crying a little and hadn’t noticed.

“You need to get home. Hood’s back, remember? C’mon, I’ll walk ya, Cherry.”

I nodded. Pulling myself off his lap and holding out my hand. He grabbed hold and lazily pulled himself up from the grass and nearly fell into me. We started up the trail and through the trees and I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand. Clearing my throat as I gazed up at him.

“Please don’t go after anybody or anything. You saw the huge fight that almost happened in the parking lot this morning. I don’t want anything to happen to you too, okay?” I muttered the words softly, giving him what I hoped was my best begging look.

“I promised I’d wait until Jugs did or didn’t find something. I keep my promises, Cherry.”

I nodded. Giving his hand another squeeze.

My dad’s house was in view again and I raised a brow at the sign in the front yard.

Andrews for Mayor.

“What the hell?” I muttered, nodding to the sign.

Sweet Pea eyed it, shrugging.

“It’d be better than Hermione Lodge.”

“I know, but..” I trailed off, shaking my head. We paused under the street light just as it came on overhead. We stood there awkwardly for a minute or two and then he stepped closer. Pulling me into a hug. Squeezing a little.

“Get inside, Cherry.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. Gazing up at him as the hug broke. “Let me know when you make it back to the camp.”

He gave me the thumbs up and started to walk in the direction of the campground FP had them all staying at for the time being. I wandered up onto the porch, leaning against the front door to pull myself together a little before stepping into the house.

Just in time to find Veronica and Archie sitting at the table with posters and signs spread out all over. And to hear my dad talking to my mom on the phone. My mom, of course, was telling my dad how running for Mayor may not be the best idea. But my dad was insisting that with everything that had happened as of late, somebody had to actually try to do something.

I wandered over to the table, flopping into a seat. Veronica reached out, pulling a dried leaf out of my hair.

“Did you hear the news?” she smiled at me.

“Dad’s running for mayor?” I questioned. My dad smiled. Held out his phone so my mom could say hi to me.

“Are you just getting home?” my mom asked, giving me one of her looks as she did.

“I went to the quarry after school with some friends.” I answered her.

“I heard what happened, sweetie. If you need to talk, you know you can call me, right?” my mom eyed me in concern. I nodded as I pulled myself out of the dining chair and made my way over to the stove to fix myself a plate of spaghetti.

After a few more minutes, my father ended the call, coming to sit down across the table from me. “Well? What do you think, tiny?”

“Honestly? I think this is a good thing. A very good thing. If anybody can fix all the crap that’s wrong with Riverdale, I think it’s you.” I smiled at my dad. Veronica spoke up, voicing her agreement.

After my dad went upstairs to take a shower, my brother spoke up.

“All the stuff with Hiram is behind me. I can’t believe I thought I’d be able to pull off what I was trying.”

Veronica gave his hand a squeeze and spoke up, gazing at me. “Your brother finally realized what I’ve been trying to point out to him about my father all along. And then I found out new things and… I have to do something.”

“Do I want to know?” I asked, twisting spaghetti around my fork and taking a bite. Veronica shook her head and muttered quietly, “I wish I didn’t know. That’s all I want to say right now. I’m still trying to get my head around it all.”

I nodded. Dropping the subject.

“Where’d you get the shiner, Archie?” I nodded to his black eye. He shrugged it off, chuckling. “Chuck ran his mouth at practice. I shut him up.”

“Oh shit.. Tell me he wasn’t stupid enough to try his crap with Veronica again?”

“Nope. He just ran his mouth.”

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. Putting my bowl into the sink and making my way up the stairs, into my room. Flopping across my bed right as my phone went off twice.

[ tall broody and handsome ] I made it, cherry. Jughead thinks he might’ve found something out too. Going to meet him now. I’ll let you know.

I texted back quickly.

[ cherry ] thank you for letting me know.

I hesitated because I wanted to type out that I didn’t know what I’d do if something happened to him too, and after staring at the entered words, I erased them, going with the simple thank you.

Then texting him again.

[ cherry ] that was fast. Be careful. You’ve got your switchblade and another person with you, right?

The next text had my skin crawling and everything I’d eaten that day crawling up my throat.

[773 - 589 - 7956] guess who?

[ 773- 589 - 7956 ] i bet you think it was real cute.. Turning over all that stuff to help them lock me up. i know it was you, scarlet.

[ 773 - 589 - 7956 ] you owe me, scarlet. And i intend to collect.

I threw my phone down and crawled up to the top of my bed. Putting my knees to my chin and my arms around my knees. Taking long deep breaths but that didn’t help me at all.

He wasn’t supposed to get out. How had he gotten out?

My stomach churned. I knew I needed to tell someone, but at the same time, I didn’t want to, either.

I got myself into this mess. I needed to get myself out. One way or another.

Besides, I tried to convince myself, there’s no way he’ll come to Riverdale.

XXX

Sweet Pea got to the place he’d agreed to meet Jughead just in time to see the end result of the fight.

Well, it wasn’t so much a fight as it was a one sided ass kicking. He managed to get his hands on some of the Ghoulies sent by Penny Peabody to find Jughead and get even, but Jughead was laying there on the ground. Badly beaten. Unconscious.

He picked him up and carried him to the hospital. Calling FP on his way there. Explaining what he’d seen and what he thought happened. FP showed up at the hospital with Toni and a few of the other Serpents about fifteen minutes later, just as the doctor was coming out to tell Sweet Pea that Jughead was awake.

FP went in first.

And outside in the waiting room, Sweet Pea found himself thinking about the one thing that Jughead had managed to say before he slipped into unconsciousness. A Bulldog hadn’t fired the shot that killed his best friend.

Midge’s mother had done it. In a fit of grief. The cops weren’t pressing the issue. And Sweet Pea felt conflicted, because on the one hand, he understood that it was grief. On the other hand, he wanted some kind of revenge. Closure.

Because he’d just lost his best friend. The only person he had left that he considered true family. Fangs had been like a brother to him.

His mom had mentioned that he had a half brother once, but that they’d never know each other. Fangs felt more like family to him than any of his blood relations did at this point, because Fangs was always there.

XXX

Inside the hospital room, FP explained what he’d done to keep Fangs safe until the heat was off. Jughead listened and when his father finished, he spoke up quietly. “We have to at least let Sweet Pea know. The guy was his family. Fangs was the only family Pea really had.”

FP mulled it over, nodding. “I’ll talk to him when I go back out into the waiting room. You find anything you were lookin for about who fired the shot?”

“Midge’s mom. She turned herself in this afternoon. They’re not going to do anything to her, I don’t think.”

Betty rushed into the room and FP made his way out, letting the two be together alone. Once he was back in the waiting room, he spotted Sweet Pea sitting sprawled in one of the flimsy chairs. He walked over and sat down beside him.

“Fangs ain’t dead, kid. I had to get him the hell away from here because there were very real threats made.”

Sweet Pea eyed him, a brow raised.

“What the fuck do you mean Fangs isn’t dead?”

“We protect our own, kid. Fangs was being threatened. I got him out of town.”

“Toni and I were mourning our best friend. Does that mean shit to you?” Sweet Pea took a deep breath to keep himself calm. FP nodded. Sighing as he muttered that he understood. And then he explained that as soon as things cooled off between the North and the South side, he’d be sending for him to come back.

“I want to see him. If you’re not full of shit.” Sweet Pea insisted.

“Perfect. You can make the supply run out to where I have him stashed. Better get going, kid. I want you back in time to make class tomorrow. We clear?”

Sweet Pea nodded, standing. FP gave him a key to the RV he was staying in currently, told him where to find the supplies he’d need to give Fangs. He gave him a wad of cash to give to Fangs and then a few smaller bills. Smirking as he mused aloud, “Keep it, kid.”

Sweet Pea nodded, even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt taking money from the guy. And then, he set off to run the supplies to Fangs.

#sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea imagines #sweetpea fic #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction ; sweetpea #my fics ; sweetpea #// i can't warn you enough. read.all.the.warnings. seriously people.

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arabellaflynn · 7 years

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How could I possibly not know my attachment style until I was a teenager, you ask? Well, mainly because I had nobody to get that attached to. My mother likes to tell people the story of my first steps. I was sitting on her lap one day at a family gathering, while she was chatting with the other adults, and I let it be known that I wanted a toy that was across the room. Nobody could be arsed to get it for me, or even walk over there and crouch beside it to encourage me to go get it myself. Eventually, I got tired of squalling, squirmed free, and toddled over to get it on my own. No stumbling, no falling; I just walked over, plopped down, and focused on my toy to the exclusion of all else. She thinks this is an adorable story. It would be if it were a case of 'took our eyes off the baby for two seconds and look what happened'. It was not. This was my mother's parenting technique through my entire childhood: Whenever the baby wanted something inconvenient, ignore her until she took care of herself. She's not a sociopath -- she was good with food, water, shelter, clothes, school, making sure I didn't just drop dead, etc. But any level of psychosocial interaction beyond what a pet might need was inconsistent at best. The most praise I ever got was when I was "independent", i.e., didn't bug her for shit. Dad followed Mom's lead, and to be brutally honest, the two of them were actually an improvement over the families they'd come from. Unsurprisingly, my mother and I got along increasingly poorly as I grew up. By the time I was a teenager, I could articulate the feeling that she wasn't listening to me when I complained, but it didn't do me any good. She could parrot back the words I'd just said, it just didn't appear to mean anything to her. At some point she'd just snap and shout, "What do you want me to do about it?" The actual answer was, "sympathize and comfort me," but by that point I'd been without it for so long I didn't know that was an option. I'd try to think up some practical solutions, find none, sullenly admit the answer was, "Nothing, I guess," and retreat to my room. As far as I can tell, she considered this to be her winning the fight. There wasn't anyone outside the family for me to get attached to, either. I didn't have a best friend as a kid. I didn't know this; there was a girl in my grade whose mother hung out with my mother, and I was informed that she was my best friend. In retrospect, she didn't like me much and wished I'd go away, but she had been ordered to play with me. Her mother was the kind of woman who enforced the 'no squirming while I do your hair' rule by clonking her on the head with the hairbrush, so I'm not surprised she did it. When I was eight-ish, I bought a set of those 'best friend' necklackes that are each one half of a heart. She flat refused to wear hers. I don't recall my mother having much reaction to this; I may not have bothered to tell her. Mainly what this taught me was that my affection was a goddamn nuisance, and if I wanted to make 'friends' I should probably not say anything about it. They would be, at best, confused. I got innumerable more lessons in same throughout grade school. I tried berating myself into not caring so much, but that didn't work very well, so I took the compromise position of never talking about it. I still have favorite people, I just generally keep it to myself. I can be glad to see someone without making them take time out of their day to deal with it. It was not until I was a freshman in high school that I met other humans who consistently acted like they fucking liked me. I still see people complaining that online socializing isn't "real" socializing, and I say a hearty FUCK YOU!, because without the internet (or at least crappy 14.4 mbps modems) I would not have had any friends ever, least of all at a time in my life where I was becoming increasingly stressed and despondent. My school district set up an online BBS that was ostensibly for "homework help", although I don't think I ever saw a single post in that forum. What we actually used it for was play-by-post role-playing games. A couple of guys set up a Star Trek game, and I wanted to join, so I sat down to read the background docs. I found them woefully inadequate. I was even less diplomatic as a teenager than I am now, so I wrote the guy who posted them and went, "You call that tech?" and he wrote back, "You think you can do better, you do it." I owned all of the published technical manuals for the various Trek series at that point, and I did in fact think I could do better, so I did. Bizarrely enough, this made us friends. Nerd lyfe, yo. I ended up fairly close with the two guys who ran the game, and with a girl they knew, all three from a neighboring high school in the district. I handled this very poorly. I had no idea how to cope with people who actually cared about my mental and emotional well-being. It had nothing to do with how they were behaving; they did successfully transmit the feeling that they cared about me, very much. I just didn't trust my read of the situation, at all. I felt as though I were on a tightrope the entire time, wondering how much they would tolerate from me before they snapped and admitted I was demanding too much attention, and told me to sod off. This was not their view of the situation at all; they uniformly thought my parents were horrible, and probably wished they could do more to get me away from them. By this point I had started having what in hindsight were clearly uncontrollable panic attacks, which my parents responded to by ignoring them. Literally -- I can clearly remember sitting at one of the computer in the living room, sobbing hysterically while I typed at one of said friends in a chat window, both parents within sight of this and having absolutely no discernible reaction whatsoever. I took to doing this more and more, dumping my irrational, incomprehensible feelings out into text, because for some reason they all put up with it. I always expected that one day they would just tell me to STFU, but they never did. One of the guys in the group had two sisters and therefore some idea of what you do about crying women, which was mainly hug them until they fixed themselves. He was very patient, and eventually became my first real 'best friend', a thing that surprised only me. When I was around seventeen, I was badly broken by the realization that he cared about me in a way that my own family did not, and that if push ever came to shove, my family could go fuck themselves, because I'd side with him. I remember sitting in the front seat of his car very late one night, babbling uncontrollably at him about this epiphany. I have no idea what he made of this, but he did continue to talk to me for several years afterwards, so it apparently wasn't anything bad. I still deeply mistrust the instinct that says someone is aiming to be that kind of friend to me. It is rare, and I try not to let myself want that too much, because it gets me into trouble. It involves a kind of emotional intimacy that other people view as inherently romantic -- I don't, and I cannot for the life of me comprehend why other people do, but it provokes a lot of jealousy in the wrong situation. Losing friends is bad to begin with, but that one is especially ruinous for me. From my point of view, it means I have to give up a connection to another human being because a third party has arbitrarily decreed I don't get to have it. The jealous SO unilaterally declares we're in a competition I don't want or understand, and I automatically lose. It scares me on a par with what I think normal people would feel at the prospect that their sibling had married a crazy person and would never speak to them again. The reward has to be pretty big for me to take the risk. This specific thing is the other reason (aside from a general lack of spoons and extroverted emotional energy) that I have decided I do not do closed monogamous relationships. There are seriously people who consider that kind of friendship to be 'emotional infidelity'. You can't see me right now, but if I were rolling my eyes any harder I'd risk retinal detachment. If this counts as cheating in a monogamous relationship, then clearly I am not natively monogamous, and I should not be in those. I really need that kind of emotional scaffolding, in various degrees from multiple people, to provide stability in my life, and I have no family capable of providing it. Any partner who told me, "you're too close to that other person, give it up or this relationship is over," would be immediately and permanently broken up with. from Blogger http://ift.tt/2yMkyFE via IFTTT -------------------- Enjoy my writing? Consider becoming a Patron, subscribing via Kindle, or just toss a little something in my tip jar. Thanks!

#IFTTT #Blogger #Unsolicited Advice

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actualbird · 7 years

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(wc: 2.8k. michael is the Sawi Best Friend . pining + pining + pining = pining. part 1. part 2. part 3. or read everything here on ao3)

The English Project Christine Crisis begins with Jeremy wordlessly sitting next to Michael during lunch, back stiff, face pale, looking a little bit like a gargoyle that just saw another, uglier gargoyle, before grabbing his bag and raptor screeching right into it.

“I have no idea what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, but honestly? Hard same,” Michael says, patting Jeremy’s back as his screeching slowly dies down into pained warbling. “Let it all out, buddy.”

“Mmmmmmrrr,” Jeremy says into his bag. He turns his head to face Michael, face creased from the bag, “Dude, do you ever feel like sometimes the universe is trying to be nice to you but it’s spent so long being a dick to you that everything is still kinda awful?”

“Uh,” Michael says. “I’m going to need a little bit more context.”

“Like, are you ever given a really, really good thing, but it’s the worst thing ever at the same time?”

“Okay, I catch your drift now,” Michael’s got the worst crush on his incredible best friend, so yeah, he gets it. Michael pats Jeremy’s head. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

“Christine,” Jeremy sighs dreamily.

“Was she, like, extra cute in the hallway today or something?”

“She’s always cute in the hallway,” Jeremy says. “But uh, in English today, there’s this paper we’ve gotta write.”

“Uh huh.”

“And it’s by pair.”

“Alright.”

“And Christine was assigned as my partner,” he says, voice getting more urgent with each word.

“Well, that’s great news, isn’t it?” Michael grins, but Jeremy just looks like somebody just killed a bunny in front of him.

“It isn’t! I’m going to have to talk to her and spend time with her and stuff and it’ll be great but I’ll mess everything up because I always do,” He groans, burying his face back into his bag. Michael has to lean in to hear the rest of his muffled words. “How are people even supposed to function around people they like?”

Michael, expert at functioning around a person he likes, decides to be sympathetic. “Okay, first off? You don’t always mess everything up. That’s my best friend you’re talking about, so don’t be too hard on him,” he ruffles Jeremy’s hair. “It’ll be fine, okay? Just act like you normally do.”

“Anxious, tense, and weird?”

“Funny, sincere, and interesting,” Michael says, fingers threading through Jeremy’s hair. “A little awkward sometimes, but hey, who isn’t?”

“You’re my best friend, you’re practically contractually obligated to think all that,” he grumbles, but then he looks at Michael. “Thanks, though. Also, if you keep touching my hair like that, I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“Whoops,” Michael jerks his traitorous hand away. “So, uh, what’s project about?”

“The Tempest,” Jeremy answers, smiling a little bit. “Christine and I talked about it a little before class ended, and she was so excited, god it was so cute. It’s dumb, but I wish she’d get excited about me too.”

“Geez, dude, this project sure is going to be wild ride, huh? You just switched from dreamy lovey dovey to mega sawi in under a second.”Jeremy makes a questioning noise, one that Michael’s come to understand as Jeremy’s shortcut for what did that mean now that lately, Michael’s been speaking a bit more Filipino around him.

“Sawi literally means ‘unlucky’, in English, but lately it’s been kind of specific to describe people who are down in the dumps and shit when your love life is kind of crummy,” Michael explains.

“Why the hell does your language have so many fitting words about love?” and Jeremy’s face is back in his bag again.

“No idea, dude,” Michael sighs, wondering the exact same thing.

Here’s the thing about Jeremy:

He’s a big ball of nerves who’s anxious ninety percent of his waking life. He second guesses his second guesses and doubts as if he’s being paid good money to. He tries to hide it, but he’s bitter and pissed off about a lot of things in life like his parents or his social standing. Sometimes, even if he doesn’t mean it, he’s a bit of an asshole. The state of Jeremy’s self-esteem, based on what Michael’s seen, is akin to an on fire screaming garbage can that keeps setting itself back on fire every time Michael tries to put it out.

But he also wears these dumb cardigans that are really soft and often are too long, covering his hands til only his fingers peek out. He’s got a weird, adorable, wheezy laugh that’s a remnant of the asthma he grew out of when he turned eleven. He keeps a paperclip or two in his pockets all the time to give to Michael just in case Michael feels like he needs to fidget with something. He always remembers Michael’s birthday. His Filipino is atrocious, but he tries to speak words and phrases of it anyway.

The thing about Jeremy is that he’s pretty much the best person Michael knows.

heerefarwhereveryouare is calling…

“Coolest guy on the planet speaking, how may I help you?” Michael wedges his phone between his head and shoulder so he can continue to rinse plates with his hands. On the line, Jeremy lets out a very emotional screech. “Uh, buddy?”

“Are you busy right now?” Jeremy asks.

“Just dishes,” Michael grabs another plate. “What’s up? I thought you went to Christine’s place for the project?”

“Exactly! I mean, I’m home now, but, oh my god! I went to Christine’s house!”

“Ohhhh, I get it, this is call is going to be gushing about the whole experience, am I right?” Michael says fondly.

“No—I mean, yeah, but, you know.”

“It’s alright, Jer, you don’t have to justify it,” Michael thinks that if he actually had any other friends, he’d love to gush about Jeremy to them. Alas, he wasn’t as lucky. “Go for it.”

“For real?”

“It would be a privilege to have your sonorous voice wax poetic while I get sudsy with plates,” Michael tells him sincerely. “Unleash the raving dude. I am ready.”

“Okay, well,” Jeremy says. “Okay. Okay. I’ll start from the top. So like, she lives pretty nearby so we walk and it’s kind of awkward for a bit? I’m like, agh, fuck it, so I just say whatever the hell is on my mind and it turns out what that was was dolphins.”

“You fucking furry.”

“Says the guy who followed Meerkat Manor religiously,” Jeremy fires back with no hesitation. Michael has never been prouder of his boy. “There was a documentary about them on Animal Planet a few days ago focusing on their sonar powers so I just kind of blurt that out weirdly. I wanted to like, dive into a gutter and die, but then she just keeps asking about it? She got really interested in it. At one point, she makes this adorable dolphin noise, it was—” Jeremy makes a noise which Michael understands fully. Michael also feels very random noise over cute shit Jeremy does all the time.

“See? Being sincere works! Even if it’s about dolphins,” Michael laughs. “How’d the rest go?”

“Uh, well, we we’re productive, for most of it. We drafted what parts of the drama we wanted to expound on,” Jeremy sighs. “She’s really, really, smart Michael. I’m okay in English, but she’s a genius. She’s so passionate and perceptive about the themes and ironies present in the text. She’s a huge theatre kid and she’s super excited for the school play which is gonna have their sign ups soon. Dude, if she signs up, I will too.”

“Nice!” He smiles. “I’m loving the confidence!”

“Yeah, I—She’s just really confident with herself so she makes me want to try to, if that makes sense?”

“Of course it does. I’m glad she’s bringing this out in you, man.”

“I am too,” Jeremy sighs, ridiculously fond. It’s a soft sound, but it echoes in Michael’s head, bouncing off the walls of his brain, clattering around, causing all kinds of shit like aches in his chest or a hunch to his back. Oh, how he wishes. He wishes, real bad.

“Michael? Michael, you still there?” Jeremy voice brings him back. Right. Rinsing a plate and on the phone with a boy who’s got no idea.

“Yeah, still here, dude,” Michael says. “Just zoned out a bit. You know how I get with the dishes. All the soap gets really existential.”

Jeremy snorts, “Whatever you say, man. Listen, I’ve gotta go. I promised Christine I’d message her the google doc link to what we made today. Thanks for listening, Michael! You’re the greatest.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Michael dries his hands. “Good night, dude.”

“Night!” and Jeremy hangs up.

Michael takes a deep breath. Then another. And another. He runs a hand down his face and thinks, fuck. Michael is happy. He’s gotta be happy. His best friend is actually interacting with the girl he’s crushing on, so Michael is over the moon. But the tight feeling in his throat stubbornly says otherwise.

Sawi doesn’t even begin to describe whatever this is now.

Here’s the thing about Michael:

His head is a cluttered mess that goes eighty eight miles per hour basically every second, but never in any useful direction. He likes obscure stuff that not many other people can relate to. He gets that sometimes he speaks too fast or is too loud or generally just is too much, but doesn’t know how to tone himself down. He’s weird and uncool but he’s also aware that there’s honestly nothing wrong with that as long as he’s having fun. He’s a loner, but he doesn’t care because he’s got Jeremy.

Michael’s also been Jeremy’s best friend ever since they met twelve years ago at some undisclosed sandbox where Jeremy talked to him out of nowhere holding a beetle in his hands. He’s seen Jeremy at his highest (first place at the sixth grade science fair with his experiment that tested out the slipperiness of certain fruit peels), and his lowest (“Michael? Can I come over? Uh, well, I’m fine, I swear. It’s just—mom left and. I’m fine, I’m—”). He slowly dug himself a hole of non platonic feelings for his best friend and only noticed he didn’t bring a ladder with him to get out once he was already in too deep.

The thing about Michael is that he’s had a lot of practice at this.

Somebody taps Michael’s shoulder in the hallway and he almost has a heart attack. He turns around slowly, apprehensive, because Jeremy never touches Michael out of nowhere without clear visual warning, so it’s either a bully, an axe murderer, or the heaviest fly in the world.

None of the above. Michael has to look down a little bit to see Christine Canigula waving at him sheepishly.

“Uh,” Michael pulls his headphones down. This is odd. People don’t talk to Michael. Christine is people. He should probably say something. “Hi?”

“Hi, uh, I don’t know if you know me,” Christine says, gesturing wildly already despite only having spoken for two seconds. “But you’re Jeremy Heere’s friend right? Michael?”

“Yep, that’s me,” Michael smiles. Nickname wise, Jeremy Heere’s Friend is a lot better than Anti-Social Headphones Kid. He hopes it catches on. “You’re Christine.”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Jeremy talks about you a lot,” he says because he’s a goddamn good friend, damn it. “Like a lot. You’re a great English partner. The absolute best, if his words are to be believed.”

“He’s just overselling me,” she laughs. It’s a dorky, wheezy laugh, Jesus Christ, they’re made for each other. “Jeremy’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, he’s like, the softest boy in the world,” Michael tells her.

“I really like your patches,” she segues, pointing at the Rise Above Racism one in particular.

“Thanks. I really like your dress.” Michael says, for the lack of anything else to say. There was never a walkthrough on how to do smalltalk. It really is a nice dress, though.

“Thanks!”

“So, uh,” Michael fiddles with the wire of his headphones. “What’s up?”

“Oh! Right,” Christine blinks, slinging her backpack off her shoulders. “He forgot his cardigan back at my place, yesterday. I could’ve returned it tomorrow, when we have class, but he’s pretty thin so I was worried that he might get too cold. I really don’t want my English partner to die from, like, hypothermia, or something. Especially since he’s been a great partner. I’m really glad I got paired with him, because I’m pretty sure everybody else in the class doesn’t really care all that much about the text. It’s like, there’s a reason Shakespeare is timeless, y’know? But a lot of people nowadays don’t wanna give it a chance long enough to see just how incredible all his works were, and still are, even now!” She says, impressively, all in one breath.

“Yeah, dude, rock on Shakespeare,” Michael smiles, kind of taken aback, but charmed all the same. Michael’s about as straight as a circle, but he can see why Jeremy likes Christine. “Jeremy’s the raddest.”

“Rad!” Christine cheers, Jeremy’s cardigan in hand. It’s adorable. “Here, you go. Heh, Heere. Heere you go.”

“Oh geez, I’ll tell him you said that, he’ll lose his shit,” Michael laughs.

“Nice,” she rocks back and forth on her feet, then suddenly she jolts, as if remembering. “Whoa, wait, sorry I’ve gotta run. Thank you so much, Michael. See you around!”

And she whirls off, walking away with a happy skip in her step.

Here’s the thing about Christine:

Michael doesn’t know her. He knows the adoring stained glass image collage of her that Jeremy has created through dreamy anecdotes and forlorn sighs. He’s aware that there might be a lot different between that image and the real Christine Canigula, but just by going off of what he’s seen, Christine is a great girl

She’s nerdy and unapologetically passionate about her interests. She’s a little all over the place, but so is Jeremy. She smiles a lot and happiness trails after her like an devoted puppy. She layers clothes like a boss. Michael doesn’t know her all that well, but she makes Jeremy happy.

The thing about Christine is that she makes Jeremy happy. And that’s the most important fucking thing.

“Dude, are you wearing my cardigan?” Jeremy asks later when they meet for lunch.

“Sure am,” Michael says, picking up his juice carton. “I bumped into Christine earlier and she told me you forgot it and gave it to me instead of waiting to see you tomorrow because she was worried your skinny ass would die from the cold.”

“She was worried about me?” Jeremy smiles like a dweeb, before blinking and saying, “Wait, that doesn’t explain why you’re wearing my cardigan, though.”

“It’s soft as fuck,” Michael bites his straw to hell and back. “You can have it back after lunch.”

“Fair enough,” he says, starting to eat whatever mush it is the cafeteria served today. “So what’d you think?”

“Of what?”

“Christine,” Jeremy says. “That’s the first time you met her, right?”

Michael nods, deciding to pick on Jeremy a little bit. “She’s nice, I guess.”

“You guess,” he hisses. “That’s it, take off the cardigan. Only people who appreciate Christine for all her glory is allowed to wear it.”

“Agh! I’m kidding, I’m kidding, she’s incredible and perfect and she’ll wage an army of puppies to fight off people who don’t like Shakespeare,” Michael laughs, batting away Jeremy’s grabby hands.

Jeremy huffs, sitting back down, and he’s silent for a moment. Then he says, “I think I might tell her soon.”

Those seven words rattle in his head. Clang, clang, clang, motherfucker. But Michael’s been doing this long enough to expertly cram all of it into a box in the corner of his mind for later. Priority number one: Jeremy. Always.

“Dude! So proud! High five,” Michael raises his hand. Jeremy sheepishly swats at it. Close enough. “How are you going to do it?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” he grumbles. “I always stutter and forget how to talk when I’m around her.”

“Maybe you can try writing a letter?” Michael suggests past the tight feeling in his throat. “She’ll love something like that.”

“You really think so?” Jeremy smiles, a little unsure, a little perfect.

“I know so,” Michael assures him. “And whatever happens, I’ll be here to help you through, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Michael,” Jeremy leans his head against Michael’s shoulder. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably crash and burn,” he says, swallowing all the aches down.

His point is this. Christine, should she ever like Jeremy back—which is highly probable given that Jeremy is a fucking catch—would be really good for Jeremy. They’d be really good for each other. They’re both nerdy and cute and they’d be so good.

Michael might be the pining best friend, but really, he’s a best friend first. Best friends make best friends happy. Above all, Jeremy deserves that.

Even if it’s with somebody else.

(not as much filipino in this part :^(((. i’ll make it up in the later chapters [prayer hands emoji])

#bmc #be more chill #boyf riends #iwrotesomething #my laptop is dying i gotta post thisfast haha #jhfkjdskfd wordcount na pahaba pahaba ng pahaba

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