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#the way people have been talking about mike lately is so infuriating
robynrocksforbrains · 8 months
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Mike Wheeler is important and there's nothing wrong with analyzing him
Since y'all wanna be insufferable bitches about it I'm gonna explain to you why he's important, why Will loves him, why his struggles should be acknowledged, and why his character depth is pivotal to byler endgame being a satisfying conclusion for both Mike AND Will. Deal with it!
We are not seeing smoke where there isn't a flame. We are seeing smoke where there is a literal fucking forest fire.
Starting off with something a lot of people aren't ready for but I've seen more people talking about: Mike is the main character of s1 at the very least. He is the character that brings us into the world of stranger things. He is the character that the writers chose for this. Mike is the main character of s1 and it was an instant hit. The writers love Mike. Contrary to popular belief, giving a character an arc where they are struggling and their behavior changes from what is normal for the character we know and love does NOT mean the writers hate that character. It means they deliberately chose to give that character complexity and depth. Your inability to like characters that do anything wrong ever is not the fault of the writers. Your decision to act as if a character is not important is not reflective of the actual narrative because it in fact is in direct opposition to the narrative. So just to be clear, if you genuinely believe that Mike isn't important, or that the writers hate him, or don't care about him, or that his story "takes away" from any other character's - ESPECIALLY WILL'S - you are simply wrong.
In s1 and s2 Mike is established as an extremely caring person. He's loving, loyal, brave, intelligent, and trying his best. He is also established to be hot headed, someone who speaks without thinking quite often, someone who is capable of hurting his friends despite that being the last thing he wants to do. He is all of these things and more. He is a human. He is a kid. So in s3, when suddenly he is entirely different, it is completely logical to assume that there is a reason for that. He did not just wake up one day and decide he wanted to be an asshole, push Will away, make his friends feel abandoned, and echo the same sentiments their bullies held. Something is happening with him. He has so much going on in his head and it is painfully obvious. He's holding something in, he's hiding from everyone and from himself. We see glimpses of what he's trying to hide after Will calls him out on his behavior. Will gets through to him. Mike is usually unresponsive to tough love, except for when it's coming from Will. After their fight, it is obvious that he's trying to be better. But he still doesn't wanna face certain things, and he doesn't know how to navigate that. Because he's 13 years old.
There is a reason for all of that internal conflict. There is a reason it comes pouring out of him at certain times. He's crumbling. He is quite literally falling apart because he's holding on to too much. It's not a stretch to assume that, it just takes basic media literacy. Why would the writers have Mike act this way if he was just supposed to be a one dimensional character? Why would Finn be directed to portray Mike the way he does if there was nothing more going on? There are times where Mike looks like he's in physical pain because of his internal conflict. There is a reason for that. And acknowledging that DOES NOT mean people are taking away from Will. That's the most idiotic thing I have ever heard. Do y'all seriously not understand that more than one character can have emotionally complex storylines? Genuinely asking, is this a new concept for you?
Will's love for Mike
Will is head over heels in love with Mike. That is very much established. So when you're dismissing the emotional depth of Mike's individual arc because you think acknowledging it "takes away from Will" you are actually diminishing the significance of a huge aspect of Will's emotional arc. By taking away the significance of Mike, you take away from the significance of Will.
Let's do a quick recap of the very significant role Mike has played in Will's entire life:
Mike is Will's first friend.
They have grown up together and it can be assumed that they've reached important milestones together.
Mike has always been a safe person for Will. He's been a constant in Will's very chaotic and unfair life. Until the summer of '85, Mike had always been something good in Will's life. (That's not to say he is no longer something good, but it can be assumed that the summer of '85 is the first time Mike has been a causal factor in Will's unhappiness)
When Will went missing, Mike did not hesitate to search for him. It wasn't even a question of if. The moment he knew Will was missing he knew exactly what he'd be doing that night. He spearheaded the search amongst the party. He was the leader.
When Will came back, Mike was the only person that didn't treat him like he was gonna break. He cared for him, and he was there for him, but he didn't treat him differently; Will tells us as much. Which means we can infer that the way Mike was with Will in s2 - how gentle and loving he was - was nothing new. He had just always been like that.
When Will was possessed, Mike stayed by his side. Even when it was scary, even when it could've gotten him killed, he stayed. Because once again, for him, it wasn't even a question. That's just where he knew he needed to be. He was in the shed when they were trying to get through to Will. He was set apart from Lucas and Dustin, but he also wasn't equated to family. And his retelling of the story of the day they first met was the final push Will needed to find a way to communicate.
After a year of things being "weird" between them, Mike tells Will that he didn't deserve to be treated the way he had been. Mike tells him that he wants them to be okay again, and for the rest of the season he puts in the work.
Things get rough in s3, and at the beginning of s4, and despite all of that, Will confesses his love (albeit veiled). In a moment where Mike is feeling awful about himself, he tells him that he loves him and needs him, and he tells him why. And to him it doesn't matter that he's breaking his own heart to do it, because it's Mike. Mike, who makes him feel like he's not a mistake at all, and that he's better for being different. For Will, there was no other option. The person he loves was hurting and he knew how to help, and so he did.
Mike is the first person Will tells about Vecna still being alive. Because they're back to being a team. He knows he can trust Mike, and Mike seems to be very determined to prove him right.
SO.
These are all real and canon aspects of Mike's presence in Will's life. Will falling in love with Mike isn't something that just happened for no reason. Will fell in love with Mike because of who Mike is. When you acknowledge that, and when you acknowledge the reasons they've set out for why Will loves him - the reasons Will literally told us - you can better understand Will. But when you dismiss all of these things about Mike, you are dismissing a large portion of Will's emotional and romantic arc. You aren't being a Will Warrior. You are erasing so much of him and his feelings and his lived experience. That is not the hill you wanna die on.
Will loves a person. Not a feeling. Yes, he says that Mike makes him feel like he's not a mistake and that he's better for being different. But that's not why he loves him. He feels that way because he loves him.
Mike is a fully fleshed out character with his own feelings and struggles and fears and traumas and motivations. He's not a plot device. He's not just an accessory to Will's arc. He's not a character that was written only to be Will's love interest. He's Will's love interest because he's Mike.
If Mike didn't matter, and if Mike didn't play a significant role in byler, then they would be able to write in a love interest for Will in s5 and have it be somewhat satisfying. But they can't do that. Will's love for Mike has so much depth because Mike has so much depth. It is genuinely crazy that this has to be stated and that I have to back up this claim because it is simply a canon fact.
So yes, the rain fight affects Mike's character development and his involvement in it is important. Yes, the van scene literally could not exist without Mike and therefore his involvement in it is incredibly important. Yes, every single byler moment has an impact on Mike, and Mike has an impact on it because they are BYLER moments. Yes, Mike will have a lot of significant moments - with Will AND on his own - in s5 because his arc deserves and needs as much attention as Will's in order to execute byler endgame in a satisfying way.
No, none of these facts negate Will's importance or take away from his story. If anything, they add to it because Mike and Will's arcs are corresponding and intertwined.
Mike's struggles
To name a few
Dysfunctional family
Has been bullied his entire life
Extreme self worth issues
Inferiority complex
Hero complex
Lack of self preservation
Suicidal ideation (has been on display since SEASON ONE)
Internalized homophobia
To get this out of the way: Mike's internalized homophobia is allowed to be discussed. Discussion of it is not the dismissal of Will's internalized homophobia. Surprise surprise, two queer kids in the 80s have internalized homophobia! Who'd'a thunk it?! Their internalized homophobia presents in different ways but it is there for both of them. I personally relate to the way Mike's is portrayed way more than I relate to Will's. So why is it that we can't discuss it without being accused of erasing Will's experience? Or without people saying that we're "copy and pasting" Will's story? Because quite frankly, that feels dismissive of my - and likely many others' - real and lived experience. So please for the love of all things that are good just stop with this talking point because it will never hold up.
Moving on
I'm not gonna do a full breakdown of all of Mike's issues. Because contrary to popular belief, there are a lot. And that would be exhausting and I'd get carried away and it's not the point of this post. The point of this post is to defend the acknowledgement and mere existence of them.
If you're a byler that for some reason thinks Mike only exists to be Will's love interest and his trophy as compensation for his trauma, let me ask you this: Have you considered how awful it would be to have a queer character's individuality and emotional depth completely ignored for the sake of focusing on the queer character that "really matters"?
If Mike's own issues, with his queer identity and otherwise, aren't thoroughly explored... What's the point of all this? If Mike really is insignificant in this storyline and his individuality has no effect on it.. where's the emotional payoff? If his perspective doesn't matter... Why have the writers gone to such great lengths to ensure we don't have that piece of the puzzle yet?
Analyzing Mike and understanding Mike is very important to understanding byler. Once again, I think it's crazy that this needs to be said.
I also think it's important to note that characters can have similar struggles. There's no rule against that. Just like real life. Characters having similar struggles is not a bad thing, and acknowledging that their struggles are similar is not dismissive of either character. We're talking about STRANGER THINGS. Jonathan and Nancy's thing is "we've got shared trauma". They have literal matching scars. Shared experiences are some of the main building blocks for this show's romances. Byler has a TON of shared experience, basically their entire lives. We already know that. So wouldn't it be so beautiful for them to learn that they've been struggling with the same thing this whole time? That the entire time they felt alone in what they were going through when really they had each other and they never even knew it? Wouldn't it be so beautiful for Mike's acceptance of Will and Will's love for him was also a step toward accepting himself? Wouldn't it be beautiful for Will to learn that his love makes Mike feel like he's not a mistake? None of that would be in the realm of possibility if Mike didn't have emotional depth and if his individuality wasn't important.
And that leads me to my concluding point...
A satisfying execution of byler endgame hinges on Mike's individual emotional arc being handled well
God I hope this isn't controversial to say. I sincerely hope most people haven't forgotten that.
Here's a hypothetical:
Imagine season five has been released. You're watching it, and you notice that Mike has been relegated to just a supporting character for Will. We don't get any of his perspective. We don't get any explanation for his s3 and early s4 behavior. His breakup with El doesn't have any real tangible effect on him, it's really just used for El's character development. We never see him pining for Will like we saw Will pining for him. And then suddenly Mike is learning about the painting and then suddenly he's confessing his love and then suddenly byler is canon and official.
Now wouldn't that just be awful? Wouldn't that be unfair to the audience, to Mike, and to Will? For us to never learn just how much Mike had to go through to even be able to say it out loud? For Mike to never get the chance to prove to himself through word and action that he is the heart? For Will to never get an explanation for why things did get so "weird" between them? It would leave us with one big, nagging question: What was the point of everything Mike has said and done throughout the entire show if his conclusion is that lackluster?
Disregarding Mike for a moment (I know that's incredibly ironic given what the entire point of this is but just bear with me) - how would that be a satisfying conclusion for Will? I mean, Will's s4 arc was basically dedicated to showcasing his struggle with his sexuality and with his love for Mike. We were shown just how deep that love is. We were shown how patient, unselfish, unwavering, and beautiful that love is. So how would it be satisfying for Mike's love for him to not be shown with just as much depth? How would it be satisfying for Mike to just be a one dimensional character whose s5 arc is essentially "break up with girlfriend, wait to find out best friend is in love with him, say he loves him back, then they live happily ever after"? I think Will deserves for his love to be returned with the same intensity at which he gives it. And I think it should be clear to the audience and to Will himself.
Back to Mike!
Mike has been through so much shit. I don't think anyone that is denying that actually believes he hasn't been through shit. Because you'd actually have to watch the show on mute and with your eyes closed to think this kid hasn't had just the worst time. It's so ignorant to act as if this stuff hasn't affected him. There's stuff we've seen but there's stuff we also haven't seen. There are issues he has that date back to his childhood pre-canon. Just like Will, Mike has been a queer kid growing up in 80s smalltown conservative america. Acknowledging the pain he 100% carries because of that is so important. His perspective has been withheld from us, not because it's unimportant, but because it's the final puzzle piece. If we had Mike's perspective in s4, byler wouldn't be a "will they won't they" (even though we all know they will). If we got his perspective in s4, byler would be a "100% certain without a doubt they will". But the thing about his perspective is that it's so much more than just loving Will. It's fear. It's pain. It's insecurity. It's doubt. It's the belief that his happiness just doesn't matter all that much. All of that has to be explored. All of that has to be laid out in the open for us in order for byler endgame to feel earned. Mike's emotional payoff will lead to byler's emotional payoff.
Mike has known he loves Will. In s5 we will see him make a deliberate and active effort to overcome the things keeping him from doing something about it. And then he will do something about it.
And so when it finally happens. When both Mike and Will finally know that their feelings are requited, and when their arcs end with us knowing that they will face whatever life has in store for them together, that will feel earned. That will feel like the logical conclusion for both of them. Not just for Mike. Not just for Will. For both.
And Mike is just as important to that conclusion as Will is.
And one last thing...
Some people are going to talk about Mike more. Some people are going to talk about Will more. Because newsflash, people have preferences. Some people just relate to Mike more, or they find his emotional arc extremely compelling, or they just like him. It isn't an attack on Will or any other character. No one is saying Mike is more important than any other character (I'm sure there are people that say that but they are a vocal minority and they are simply wrong). We are just saying that he is important. If you wanna engage in media analysis, please understand that "main character" or "central character" does not mean "only important character" and "only character that should be analyzed". If you wanna talk about Will and only Will, that's fine. But you don't get to act like people that talk about other characters are doing a disservice to your fave, because that's not how any of this works.
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fierte-verte · 2 years
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Being Steve's Neighbor + Rival-to-Lovers Would Include... (Part 2)
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Part 1 / Part 3
Summer 1983
the summer days before junior year rolled by in a haze— between babysitting will, track, and going to robin's soccer matches, you rarely had time to think about anything else
the nights, however, seemed to drag on forever; the quiet slide of a window hinge, shuffling feet, the gentle notes of a tears for fears song— it happened routinely when you slipped into bed, radio silence penetrated by noises from next door
you never dared to draw back the curtains, fearful of all the things you might encounter, dreadful of the things your sleep-deprived mind wanted to see
was it steve perched on his window sill, doe eyes glazed behind cigarette smoke? or was it another girl climbing into his room, unaware of the heartbreak ahead like always?
your stomach churned at both possibilities, neither doing favors for your efforts in ignoring him
the knowledge that steve occupied your last waking thoughts infuriated you to no end (as did the blue box that sat in your closet, collecting dust per lack of neighborly chucked items)
even robin noticed the silence during sleepovers, rob lowe's dialogue no longer sparsed between cross-house banter
"so... either you've murdered harrington, which in that case, good for you, or we've entered an alternate universe where you two aren't fated to be mortal enemies"
since your porch blowout with steve, gracie's wandered off for another three times in total— always ending up around where steve first found her, always shaking as though she's seen something sinister
"hey bud, what's with the escapades, huh? those walks not enough for you, explorer?”
September - November 10, 1983
junior year marked many a turning points: you were promoted to captain after aaron's graduation, the regular sleepover schedule now included some robin-style gushing over tammy thompson, and steve had begun dating nancy wheeler from the year below
although you and nancy ran in different social circles, you were familiar with mike through will's animated stories— it was endearing, the way he occupied most of will's attention (which would otherwise have been wasted on people like lonnie byers)
though he seldom mentioned his best friend's older sister, will would occasionally let slip about mike and steve’s late night run-ins
"mike makes this scrunched up, grossed out face whenever he talks about nancy and steve, it's cute. like silly cute"
you realized what all those sleepless nights must have been: steve in his navy green sweater, hair perfectly coiffed and ready to romance all the way across town
could it be possible? steve harrington in an actual committed relationship? the thought rolled around your head like an aimless pinball
still, amidst all the confusion, surprise, and frankly, doubt, you had hoped the two wouldn't crash and burn as steve's previous attempts at dating; the development brought on a heady onrush of emotions, coupled with the lingering intuition of something big brewing ahead
soon, your gut had proven you right on a tuesday afternoon in the form of a missing person poster, tucked beside a food drive poster on the hallway bulletin board
a nauseous spell washed over at the idea of will in danger, and you set off to look for him in plausible places around town, running into a distressed and pacing jonathan outside his house; noticing pieces of a camera sticking out his bag, you'd coaxed the truth about these past few days out of him
"let me get this straight— there's a creepy picture of wheeler in your camera, which steve and his goonies broke, both will and barbara holland are missing, and there's an eight-foot tall monster lurking in the woods?"
christ, what happened to hawkins being the most banal town in midwest america? and why does this sound like a breakdown of one of will's d&d nights?
questions bubbled up your throat only to fizzle into nothing— you realized the only option was to take everything in stride; yes, you could theoretically wallow in disbelief, but it wouldn't bring you any closer to will’s whereabouts
remembering his tendency to hide out at castle byers, you offered to scope out the place again, letting jonathan know you'd call his house firsthand with updates
to your frustration, your search in the woods was fruitless; the lack of candy wrappers and unopened comics told you will had been absent from the hideout for a while
besides, there was something strange about the area; it was colder, a biting freeze almost, and unnervingly dark for an afternoon in early november
steve was en route home when he spotted you along randolph, hands in hair and visibly distressed— flashes of that evening on your porch burning through his mind
"(y/l/n)," he slammed the brakes as you whipped around, eyes darting between the bmw and his face. "what's wrong? you okay?"
"have you seen will? will byers? four feet six, bowl cut, big brown eyes?”
“wha-who- why do you keep losing—” steve gaped, until something registered and his eyes grew hard. “wait a minute, this is about that kid on the poster. byers? as in peeping tom byers?”
you soured at the comment, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach; there was no worse time than the present for a fight with steve, but he was just so damn good at picking one
“actually, jonathan’s a nice guy. but i don't expect people like you or hagan and his circus of clowns to care”
“and you do? the last i checked, you two were complete strangers at school”
“hmm, didn’t realize your head was out of your ass long enough to know that”
“don’t work that pretty little head of yours too hard, princess. i’ve got big enough eyes to see most people”
“bigger than your hair? sure, jonathan might be…odd sometimes, i’ll give you that— but he’s a good brother to will and a good son to joyce. that’s better than half the men here in hawkins”
“which makes voyeurism okay? he took pictures of nance in my bedroom!”
“no,” pinching the bridge of your nose with eyes squeezed shut, you felt the waning fight seep from your body. “not at all, steve"
his head, too, slumped at the crestfallen mutter of his name, all tension in the air now exhausted
"what jonathan did was wrong— and nothing except a genuine apology to wheeler will make it right. but right now, this is about will. he's eleven and nowhere to be found. steve, please, if he ends up on the wrong street in town..."
did the idea of slamming his head against the dashboard appeal to steve? yes. between nancy's distant treatment and his own growing irritation at tommy and carol, he'd been on edge all day
still, did the crushed expression on your face trump all his self-pity and frustration? damn yes
wordlessly, his hand reached for the car locks, head gesturing towards the empty leather seat beside him
"c'mon, let’s drive up lover's lake, see if the kid's camping out around the boat house"
who'd have thought— steve harrington and (y/n) (y/l/n) in the same vehicle, and heading towards the town's number one make-out spot at that? even so, you supposed stranger things had gone down in hawkins before
with a conscious sigh, steve leaned forward to crank the radio down, duran duran's mumbles filling every gap of thick silence
you two kept your eyes on everything but one another, afraid to look (and even more so to look away)
the road signs and block houses all melded together in a blur of colors through the window, stretching north to lover's lake
steve noticed the bundle of nerves pressed against his own chest— which is absurd to think about, for he'd driven the same route more times than he could count since freshman year; so what was so different about this?
deciding to risk a glance at the last intersection— big mistake, really— steve realized the setting sun had begun to work its magic, tender light splitting to coat even the roughest edges in beauty
you were swathed in the delicate glow, hair fanning out around your face like a makeshift halo— the only divine thing in a town that was insipid at best
"take a picture, harrington," you teased, but the jibe was heatless, amused and almost...sweet, "it'll last longer"
a peep in the rearview mirror revealed a steve flushed from ear to ear, and for a moment the sight was enough to ease your worry about will
arriving at the lake, you two began the search— not only did steve weave between trees and boulders with the precision of indiana jones himself, he was also surprisingly chivalrous, extending a hand for you to grab onto at each tricky obstacle
"done a lot of exploring around here, harrington?" you grimaced at the tone of your own voice, neither friendly nor casual enough for your liking, too deliberate in its pointed pitch
steve, too, had been surprised by the question, rubbing the back of his now slightly reddened neck
"not more than the average teenager," he replied uncertainly, "but what's it to you, princess?" (it was the exact same question, two years apart and still, no answer in sight)
instead of a half-baked answer, steve received an elbow to his stomach instead, instantly doubling over per his personal brand of theatrics
"sneaky way to get me on my knees, (y/l/n)"
"as if i have to stoop that low," you had almost smiled at the return of his pink-tinted cheeks
November 10 - 12, 1983 
your futile trip to the lake was a last shot at optimism before an ensuing two days of hell; between news of a body in the quarry and the eventual announcement of will's funeral, you were sucked into a whirlwind of shock and grief
robin had been your rock through the forty-eight hours, making sure you were eating and taking naps despite your complete lack of will to do so
he'd been so young, will, so full of dreams and wonder and hope, always cheered up by the prospect that there'd be another campaign to plan; all those nights spent in each other's company— you had come to see him as a friend, a brother
and all you did was fail him, the voice inside you raged, punching at your insides until there was nothing to do but crumble on your doorsteps
some time later, the roar of an engine broke through your hysterics; steve had pulled into his driveway, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hovering above his door handle
one minute your vision was a teary mess, and the next it plunged into darkness; immediately, you breathed in the smell of klein cologne and detergent
"christ...harrington..." you choked out, caught between shoving the jerk away and reeling him in by the lapels
almost bent over from the push and pull of elation and agony in your chest, you were steadied only by the firm grip of steve's arms
"i'm so sorry," he whispered, his head a grounding weight atop of yours
"it's my faul- my goddamn fault - didn't even know he was travelling home so late, if only i had offered—"
"hey hey hey," his voice was firm, as you blinked through the curtain of tears to focus on his face, "it's not, okay? you had no control over what happened— don't go punishing yourself because i know you will, you've got too big of a heart"
"i just wish—" the rest of your sentence blubbered into nonsense, though steve had guessed it nonetheless, thumb rubbing circles into the crook of your arm
"i know," he looked pained, the most empathetic you had ever seen him, “i know, princess”
sensing your quick descent into fatigue, steve leaned down and slid one arm behind your knees, the other supporting your back; with a slight lift he was carrying you inside the house and onto the living room couch
you tried hard to hold onto his jacket sleeve, desperate for another warm presence in the vacant house, but merciless sleep took over before you could mumble stay
you didn't need to, however— steve had remained at your side until he heard the sound of your parents' car in the driveway, at which he slipped through the back door, into the garden, and over the fence to fall, in a very non-ninja like manner, face first into his hedge
you didn't wake up until well into noon the next day, when you were knocked out of heavy slumber by a series of brash, urgent knocks downstairs
the door opened to reveal— and you swore hawkins was just getting more and more flabbergasting by the day— steve harrington, pressing a coke can to an alarmingly huge bruise on his face
he was obviously agitated, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as words seemed to escape him
"steve," you tugged him into the house, closing the door in case nosy mr. pleet from across decided to poke his head out, "you okay? what happened, why are you—"
"i screwed up," he made a face that was half wincing and half frowning, though you couldn't tell from the amount of blood smeared on his cheeks, "i screwed up with nance so bad, (y/n), i'm such a goddamn idiot! a stupid, no-good, hot-headed waste-of-time—"
"okay—" you interrupted before he could spiral any further, guiding him to the couch, nudging him to sit down and plucking the can from his hands, "though i am thoroughly impressed by your vocabulary, you are going to split that face wide open if you keep up the vigor. sit here, i'm getting the first-aid kit"
steve watched with half-swollen eyes as you sprinted to the kitchen, busted lips left stinging in an ill-advised attempt to smirk when he spotted the bunny slippers on your feet
it was even harder for him not to when you threatiningly held up a damp towel to his face, false hostility betrayed by the gentle grip of your other hand on his chin
“make one comment,” your gaze dropped to the white slippers shortly, “one comment, steve, and i will smother you with this towel”
“wasn’t about to say anything,” he shrugged and mimmed zipping up his lips, a flash of delight visible in his brown eyes before they dimmed, before current circumstance flooded his memory
“c’mon lover boy,” you tossed the bloodied towel aside, moving onto antibiotic cream and brushing it over steve’s nastier scrapes and cuts. “what really happened?”
for two hours, steve had relayed his twists and turns with nancy, jonathan, and what now was probably his former clique
the conversation had you reeling between disappointment and hope, second-hand embarrassment and relief, all of which you concealed under the calm guise of treating steve’s face
smoothing over one last band-aid near his temple, you rapped your knuckles against his forehead lightly, determined to get his full attention (not that he’d been able to concentrate anywhere else with you so close)
“i don’t know what goes on in here, assuming there’s actually something— but your only way out is through. drag your sorry ass to wheeler and jonathan. apologize. you’re obnoxious, steve, but far from despicable”
he’d held your gaze with such appreciation that it nearly made you blush; within the duration of a week, it was as though your neighbor had shed his entire king steve persona, now a simple boy seeking redemption
no, not simple, you corrected yourself— nothing about steve harrington was simple
“alright,” he relented, the ghost of a smile hanging on his mouth, “if you say so princess”
when he returned the next day, it was with double the expected good news; not only had he made amends with nancy and jonathan, will was alive, passed out in the hospital but nonetheless alive
you’d managed to jam your feet into one shoe, ecstatic to see the kid before steve wrapped a hand around your wrist, drawing you closer to him on the porch
“(y/n),” he cleared his throat, then reached into his coat pocket to pull out a tiny tazer the size of a matchbox, “promise me you’ll be careful? lock the doors at night and keep this with you at all times?”
you frowned at his grave expression, lips parted to seek an explanation when he beat you to it
“i just- after this thing with will - i want you to be safe,” he pressed it into your palm, “please, princess”
and pray tell, how were you supposed to refuse those doe eyes?
you nodded, slipped the tazer into your bag, and tiptoed to hug steve briefly; his neck was strangely warm
“thank you,” you pulled back with a bright grin, before dangling the keys that you had sneakily tugged out of steve’s jean pocket seconds ago
“now drive me to the hospital, harrington”
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atlabeth · 3 years
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nightmares - mike munroe x reader
summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.
a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy
warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff
wc: 4.8k
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You were running.
You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.
You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.
And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.
A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.
Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.
Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.
You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.
But your luck had just run out.
Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.
That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.
You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.
Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.
Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—
The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.
It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—
A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.
You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.
You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.
It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.
It was exhausting. You were exhausted.
You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?
Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.
One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.
Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!
...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.
The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.
None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.
Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.
But now?
Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?
If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.
The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.
They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.
As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.
The worst part? You could hardly blame them.
When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.
You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.
You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.
(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)
You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.
By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.
If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.
Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.
(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)
It was the same situation with Mike.
Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.
But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.
You looked awful.
Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of
hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.
You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.
(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)
You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.
The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…
You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.
~
You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.
Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?
Because you had a nightmare?
He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…
Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.
Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.
For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.
You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.
But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.
The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.
You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.
“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.
Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”
You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”
He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”
“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.
“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”
“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.
“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”
That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.
“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”
“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”
You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.
“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”
Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.
“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”
You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”
He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”
“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”
That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”
“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”
He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”
“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”
Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”
“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”
“It is,” he murmured.
Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.
“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”
You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.
“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”
“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.
Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.
“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”
You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.
“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.
“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”
“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”
“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”
That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”
You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”
His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”
He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”
You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”
“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.
As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.
You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.
It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.
But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.
You weren’t alone, and neither was he.
He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.
-
perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77
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sleeperswakewriting · 3 years
Note
First time smut? Could be both or one inexperienced with a dose of comedy ^^
Summary: Childhood friends to lovers, Levi finally works up the nerve to ask Petra to go to prom with him. After years of pining, they decide to lose their virginity to each other on prom night.
Rated: M
Word Count: 5.4k
Prom outfits based on this!
now playing inevitable by anberlin and I think we're alone now by tiffany
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If you told Levi Ackerman that the best night of his life would include loud music, drunk teenagers, and a broken air conditioner, then he would have called you crazy and told you to piss off.
Except, of course, unless you mentioned one small detail.
He would be attending prom with his childhood crush, Petra Ral.
Friends since they were babies, neighbors both raised by single parents, they were the best of friends.
Even if they were polar opposites.
Petra was on the cheerleading team, doing cartwheels and somersaults by the time she could walk and was a social butterfly with a heart of gold.
Levi had exactly five friends, not including Petra—Erwin, Hange, Mike, Eld, and Gunther. He met them when they were in elementary school and his friend group had stayed the same ever since.
Throughout the years, their friendship faced trials and tribulations, mostly due to the fact Levi had been in love with her for as long as he could remember, and Petra was absolutely oblivious to the fact.
So much so, that she would dance around the room while they did homework, clad in booty shorts and a loose t-shirt with no bra on. He knew she saw him as a brother, going as far as to kiss him on the cheek in times when she was feeling particularly affectionate, and allowing him to wrap his arms around her with each heartbreak she faced.
"Levi, why don't you ever date? You could get any girl you want!"
He didn't dare tell her why. Even though Petra would never actually leave him, he enjoyed their affable candor, her free touches, and smugly, their Friday night movie nights, a ritual they had since they were children.
Which was also the point of contention between her and her current boyfriend.
He had a bit of a reputation as being a hard ass, also Petra's silent bodyguard even though she didn't need it, and one guy in particular—Oluo, had the nerve to come between their sacred time.
And Petra being Petra, invited him to their movie night, to Levi's chagrin, but miraculously, Oluo had taken a liking to him and the three had a few more movie nights together.
Eventually, they broke up amicably, with Petra teasing Levi that it was because Oluo had a bigger crush on him than her.
It was their senior year, which meant college applications were rolling out, and for the first time in Levi's life, he faced the reality that he might be alone.
Petra had gotten a full scholarship as a cheerleader, Erwin was going to business school, Hange to a STEM school, which left him...
"Directionless!" His mother called him. "I've worked so hard raising an intelligent young man and you can't pick a school?! Application times are ticking, Levi, you need to choose something—-a major, a school, something!"
He asked Petra what she thought about him going to school across the country, and in her infuriating smile, she patted him on the shoulder and said whatever made him happy.
I want to make you happy, he wanted to say.
The summer of their junior year was filled as it always was; late nights talking around the bonfire, camping, and summer jobs.
Petra had gotten him a gig as a camp counselor, a job he wouldn't have gotten if it weren't for her since he had "the personality of a boar," as Hange aptly put it. But, with her sweet persuasion and way with people, she had convinced the manager that Levi would be a fine addition to the team.
And he could lead the children's soccer league!
As luck would have it, he was pretty good with kids, and they latched on to Levi's stoic personality with glee.
It was a sleep-away camp, and while the girls and boys slept in separate cabins, counselors included, Levi knew Petra had a rule-breaking streak (that she got from him) and snuck out after curfew so they could watch the stars.
"The night sky is easier to see than in our hometown!" She exclaimed, leaning against his shoulder.
There was no way she would be able to hear how fast his heart was beating, how his cheeks were heated from how close she was, but all of that seemed to change when she took his hand in hers.
"This is our last summer like this, isn't it?" She whispered, and he dared to wrap an arm around her, even though it was far from the first time.
"Yeah," he agreed gruffly, not wanting the cruel reminder. Would they stay friends? Would she leave him? Did he fuck up all his chances to be with her?
Erwin and Hange kept telling him to tell her how he feels—they weren't getting any younger, and Levi morosely pointed out that she's dated several people, with none of them like him at all.
Well, there's a reason why none of them worked out, they observed.
Petra leaned in closer, burying her face into his shoulder as she sniffed. "I'm not ready for senior year. So many choices to make. I mean, I'm glad to be more independent, but I like living with my dad, you being right next door, and our friends all being in one place. Everything is going to change."
Levi swallowed, her words like bile in his throat, but choosing to placate her.
"Well, not everything."
She looked at him, eyes watering with hope.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, looking away from her, not being able to tolerate her steady laugh, her playful friendly shove, and an "Oh, you!"
But she did neither of those things, and he looked back cautiously, noticing a different look in her eyes.
Maybe it was the moonlight, but her gaze was tender, her lips puckering in a way that he'd never seen before, and before he knew it, she was leaning in to kiss him.
Levi had his first kiss when he was 13 years old in a game of spin the bottle, with Petra in attendance. She had been making eyes at a boy all night, and in a fit of frustration, he spun the bottle furiously, hoping it would land on her, but instead, on another girl who he was fairly sure had a crush on him.
Petra walloped with the rest of their friends, cheering and loudly goading, and it was over before he could blink twice.
Hange took pity on him later, locking them in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven, but it turned into Petra crying over the boy who wasn't paying attention to her, with him consoling her as best friends do.
She was bliss, her sweet pea body spray engulfing his senses, as he tentatively kissed her back, wondering if this was some delirious dream he was having.
Petra was moaning in a way that he thought was only in fantasy, at night when he dared imagined himself as her boyfriend, and when she pressed her body against his, breasts deliciously folding against his chest, he groaned in return, releasing them from the kiss to catch his breath.
"Petra, what's going on?" He asked, caressing his forehead to hers, begging that this wasn't some mistake.
She kissed his cheek, then his nose, as she giggled, "I love you, Levi. You've always been there for me, I guess what I've been looking for has been here the whole time. You...You feel the same way about me, right?"
Nifa and Nanaba had teased her relentlessly that she was building a harem since, for every guy she dated, Levi was very much a part of her life, even accompanying her on some group dates.
"I don't want him to be lonely!" She argued, putting on her watermelon lipgloss. "You know how he is, all by his lonesome. Everyone knows he's like my brother."
Nanaba laughed, giving her a look, "Well someone better call the cops because brothers shouldn't be looking at you like that. I can't believe you wear this around him," she said, pinching Petra's thigh that cut off just at her ass by her extra-large PJ shirt.
Rolling her eyes, "Please, we've seen each other in diapers. And in cringey Halloween costumes. I think we're past feeling embarrassed."
"Whatever you say," Nanaba said, noticing the pink hue on Petra's cheeks as she talked about him.
Levi thought he would be caught dead before he said I love you to anyone but his mother, and even then, it was given in brief, stilted tones.
But with Petra, he said it as quickly as he could, pulling her in for another kiss, wanting to hold on to her for as long as she would allow him.
His mother was thrilled, always having a feeling that her son harbored feelings for their ginger neighbor, and her father awkwardly patted him on the back.
"Glad it's you, son. I'm tired of all the jocks she brings around," and with a crane of the neck and a stern look, he said, "By the way, Petra, same rules apply, door stays open at all times!"
Petra groaned, stomping up the stairs. "Daddy, it's Levi! We used to listen to music on my boombox when we were 10, remember? We'd keep the door closed so you couldn't hear the CDs we bought from the thrift store."
Her father gave her a cautionary glance to her, then to Levi, who for the first time in his life, felt scared of the serene man.
"Door. Open." Her dad said with a final word, and Petra huffed, dragging Levi into her bedroom as she bemoaned how much she wanted to kiss him, earning a cough from downstairs.
Their relationship was "going steady" as some would call, with it being Levi's first relationship (he hoped his only), and Petra getting used to the idea that he was now her boyfriend.
He got jealous quite often, to the extent where he would hold her hand in the hallway or would walk with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. If he was feeling particularly whipped, he'd hold her books, but he wasn't sure if the snickers from Erwin and Hange were worth it. Not the one for PDA, Petra was surprised when he asked to hold hands, and she was more so endeared at his exuberant affections.
So far, these were the happiest days of Levi's life.
When springtime came around, with the seniors abuzz with the promise of graduation and more importantly, prom, he came to the dreaded realization that Petra was expecting a "promposal," something he had seen throughout his four years of high school but always wrote it off as annoying.
He supposed he didn't think he'd be lucky enough to go with the girl of his dreams.
It started with Nifa, who received a promposal from Gunther in the most saccharine way possible, a candy gram.
Then Nanaba and Mike, the latter coordinating a flash mob with their friends. (Levi didn't dance, but Petra told him all about it and showed them the final video they recorded).
It was a given that Eld and his long-time girlfriend would be going together.
Hange dropped on Levi that she and Erwin were also going as a pair, but it was nothing serious, and decided to go together just so they wouldn't have to deal with the headache of finding an actual date.
Which left Petra, waiting for Levi, and not being the one for grand gestures, he sat himself down to work on a promposal in the only way he knew how to.
Coding a video game.
Petra may be a cheerleader, but she was also a huge nerd thanks to Levi, where they spent most of their childhood playing every video game between his Gamecube, her PS2, and subsequently, their Nintendo DS's, and trading and exchanging games throughout their adolescence.
Their personal favorite was Zelda, with Petra often handing the controller off to him for the harder dungeons, and he knew just what to do when they had their usual Friday night movie, this time at his house.
Cuddled up on the sofa, they were kissing, barely paying attention to the movie as the white of the TV illuminated their bodies. A half-eaten box of pizza was open and cups of soda were on the table in front of them.
It was getting late, and he knew Petra had to be home soon, and he tried to focus on not losing his nerve. Hands at her waist, her plush body against his, he told himself there was nothing to worry about since this was Petra and she chose him when she could have any guy in the school. Eight months of dating should have said so.
Petra seemed to catch his hesitancy as she broke the kiss, but suckled at his lower lip in a way that he adored before she whispered, "Something wrong?"
She knew him so well.
Pulling her in for one more kiss, he reached for the remote to shut the TV off. "I coded a game," he said seriously, wondering if his face gave away his nervousness. "I was wondering if you could try it."
Eyes sparkling, Petra nodded excitedly. "It's been a while since you've made something!"
He ran to get his laptop, already having the file ready while he opened his computer, sliding it in front of her.
"It's, uh, standard WASD to walk, and you can use the numbers to click on objects," he explained as a black screen opened, showcasing a pixelated version of Petra. She held a magic wand with some fire at the end, and she was smiling, wearing her cheerleading outfit.
"Is this me?" She asked, giggling as she went through the dungeon, shooting fire bolts from her wand.
He nodded, staring at the screen in apprehension.
"Not to be a critic, but it's a little easy. Maybe add some mazes so it's not as linear?" She suggested, blasting through a monster.
"Sure, yeah, I'll keep it in mind," he said absently, chewing at his lip as she made it to the final room.
A dragon with a letterman jacket appeared, and Petra easily dodged his fire while she gave more flicks of her wand. The dragon poofed away in a cloud of smoke, revealing a chest, and as she clicked to open it, the chest opening sound from Zelda played, making Petra squeal.
"Oh boy, what am I gonna get?" She asked with an excited clap, and the screen enlarged, a picture of a blue rose and a question in pixelated letters asking,
IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE. WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME?
YES / NO
Mouth gaping, Petra looked to Levi, who was nearly squirming out of his skin in panic, clasping his hands together firmly.
Petra smiled, moving the cursor over to "YES" and clicked on it, playing the item received sound from Zelda, and confetti popped on the screen.
Crashing into Levi, Petra kissed him, wondering why it took her so long to see that she had been adored her entire life.
"You're so romantic," she sighed, tugging at his hair and running her fingers down his undercut.
Levi wanted to nearly cry from relief but quickly forgot about his distress as Petra flicked her tongue down his earlobe. She whispered she had five minutes until curfew, and it was a good thing they were neighbors so she wouldn't have to hurry home.
---
It's too damn hot, Levi thought to himself, tugging at his cravat that contrasted with his black button-down and white suit. A chain tied the two ends of the jacket together, also accompanied by a white pocket square, and even though he liked his ensemble when his mother first helped him pick it out, it was starting to feel too tight as sweat clung to his skin, the layers of the fabric suffocating him in the mid-spring weather.
Maybe it wasn't the only reason he was hot, he entertained, seeing Petra dance with their friends, dressed in a spaghetti strap orange dress and matching cream ribbon. Around her wrist was a blue rose corsage, the one he gifted her when he picked her up from her house in his mom's beat-up minivan.
She looked radiant, and perhaps what made her even more attractive was the fact that she was dressed for him. He had seen her in dozens of outfits ranging from sweat pants to middle school formals, but tonight, this was just about the two of them.
Blushing, she accepted his flowers and corsage, posing for pictures by the stairwell he used to climb with her, pretending monsters were chasing them.
Wrapping his arms around her had never felt so right as they slow danced, the dim light and rainbow disco ball illuminating their touch starved bodies. Levi Ackerman didn't dance, but for her, he would do anything as long as she was by his side.
Pressing her cheek to his chest, happy she chose only an inch for her heels so he was still taller, she whispered to him, "Are you nervous about tonight?"
Petra had agreed to go as fast or slow as Levi wanted, especially with it being his first relationship, but there was one request she had after he had asked her to prom.
"I want to have sex with you if you're ready," she said after a heated make-out session.
"Here?!" He asked, looking at his childhood bedroom, the same navy walls he had known for 18 years staring back at him.
"No, not here!" She giggled, flopping down onto his body.
"Prom night," she said quietly. "I've been saving myself for someone special and I want it to be you. I've never gone all the way with a guy...."
"Really?" He asked in wonderment, assuming Petra had sex, a thought he kept firmly shut off at the back of his mind.
"It just never felt right before. Until you." Scooting up to meet his lips, he groaned, evidence of his arousal for her apparent from the first time they kissed and then after. Sometimes she palmed his pants, sometimes he took care of himself right after she left, but he never wanted to push too far, or come across as inexperienced to Petra.
"We're both 18, I was thinking we can rent a hotel room. I can tell my dad I'm sleeping at Nifa's. You can say you're at Erwin's."
A million thoughts and images flashed through Levi's mind, but the only thing he could hear was I'm going to have sex.
"Prom night, then," he agreed.
He had stayed up hours the night before reading up on sex, the technical side of things, the intimate parts, and discussing protection with Petra the weeks leading up to it. They agreed on condoms, so he went to the store in the middle of the night to get a box, and stuffed them in the back of his underwear drawer so his mother wouldn't find them.
Before he left for Petra's, his mother embraced him, giving him the speech that he was growing up so fast, how proud she was of him, and that she was so happy he and Petra were dating.
It was then she pulled out a plastic shopping bag of condoms and started putting them in his pockets, both his jacket and pants, and Levi nearly pushed her to the ground, face flaming.
"What the hell, mom?!"
She gave him a stern look. "I know what kids do on prom night, Levi. I just want you and Petra to be careful—Don't make me a grandmother just yet! Look, I got you different sizes and flavors—"
They were not having this conversation, and Levi haphazardly unlocked the front door, barely sliding his shoes on, "Stop. Just stop. We're, uh, we're fine. We have everything we need."
Kuchel breathed a sigh of relief, placing three more condoms into Levi's hand, accompanied by forty dollars. "Good. Just be safe. Tell me if you need anything, and have fun at the hotel," she winked, and Levi gaped at her.
"What?" She asked innocently. "I know you guys are 18. And I might have heard Petra in the grocery store gossiping with her friends."
He facepalmed, groaning. Of course, Petra would be broadcasting losing her virginity.
To you, he reminded himself.
Levi stepped back into the house, kissing his mom swiftly on the cheek, muttering I love you as he took the car keys and drove down the half a block to Petra's house. Kuchel waved as she closed the door, happy her son was finally with Petra.
"A little," he admitted to Petra, back in the present. He kissed the crown of her head, holding her close. "Are you?"
Nodding, she raised her head to look at him, though they were nearly at eye level.
"But I'm happy it's with you."
A more upbeat song began, causing the numerous couples on the dance floor to break away and spin onto the dance floor. Petra let him go, but grasping his hand as she guided them back to their friends, encouraging them all to hold hands.
"To senior year!" They shouted, and as much Levi wanted to say he hated crowds, the sweat, and the lack of personal space, he found himself not caring, savoring the last tendrils of adolescence.
---
Petra was talking nonstop as they drove to the hotel, only 15 minutes away from the prom venue, and while she was usually a chatterbox, she found it was more from nerves than actually having anything significant to say.
Levi had one of their mixtapes in the CD player, burned during their middle school years written in sharpie Levi and Petra's mixtape, volume 5. Stolen songs from the internet, coupled with tracks from both of their iTunes libraries, Petra always marveled at how opposite they could be, and yet shared similar interests.
The songs were so familiar to her that she involuntarily sang along, reminiscing how often she played their shared songs and rolling over in excitement on her bed when she found a track she knew Levi would like.
Levi parked, hand still resting at the clutch as he looked to her with a steady breath. "We're here," he said quietly and Petra nodded sweetly in return.
Both brought two small duffles to change out of their prom clothes, and shuffled into the hotel, checking in, trying not to look like two teenagers about to have sex for the first time, but ultimately failing as Levi's hands shook as he slid the key card in.
Booking the cheapest room they could find that wasn't a motel, there was little space to walk other than the perimeter around the king-sized bed, a TV with a dresser, and a door leading to the bathroom where Petra excused herself to.
Levi switched the lights on, checking for anything unsavory, and dropped his duffel bag to the floor, checking himself in the door mirror.
Should he change? He didn't want to look too casual, not having the faintest idea of what "sexy" pajamas looked like for men, and he awkwardly paced, debating to at least take his jacket off, unhooking the chain to let his lapels break free.
He hung the jacket over the nearby loveseat, then fiddled with his cravat, wondering if he should take that off too since Petra may find it to be a nuisance, and before he could debate with himself any longer, he heard the bathroom door open up, revealing Petra in a pink baby doll outfit.
Blinking at him with doe eyes, she blushed furiously, not meeting his wandering eyes.
She was definitely not wearing that before they got in, so she must have changed, and suddenly, Levi felt very overdressed as his mouth went dry.
Licking his lips, he hurriedly got the "sex stuff" from his bag, throwing the box of condoms onto the nightstand, followed by lube, and Petra started giggling as he undid the condoms from his pockets as well.
"How many times do you think we're going to have sex tonight? 50?" She joked, eyes raking at the varieties.
"My mom insisted," he grumbled, heat creeping up his neck and Petra's eyes widened in embarrassment and fear.
"You told her?!"
"No!" He blurted defensively. "She figured it out. You know how perceptive she is."
Petra hummed in agreement, scooping up the condoms and putting them back into his duffel.
"I think it's safe to say we can just use that box," she said, pointing to the Trojan extra-large, then running her hands down his arms.
Levi shuddered, unsure if he wanted to keep staring at her or rip the lingerie off, but found himself unable to speak as Petra kissed him heatedly, tongue diving in, and placed his hands on her breasts.
"You can touch them, you know," she whispered, and Levi could have come alone from the contact, his hands touching the silken mounds he had fantasized about ever since they hit puberty.
He backed them into the bed, with Petra's back falling against the plush sheets, and she moaned as Levi pressed his weight against her, gently rocking against her body. She reached for his cravat, tugging it off so that it hung around his neck, and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.
"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?" she purred, her pearl earrings catching the light in the room.
"Yes, but I can stand to hear it a bit more," he replied, daring himself to touch her legs, each graze of his fingertips like electricity down her spine.
The babydoll deliciously pushed her breasts together as a cute little ribbon sat in between her breasts. The material was nearly opaque, and his mouth watered, thinking of Petra in a thong, despite the number of times he'd seen her in a bathing suit.
"And you look, uh, amazing," he breathed above her.
"Really?" Petra exclaimed in relief. "Nanaba helped me pick it out, said that you're probably more into cute-sexy than sexy-sexy."
Gently sliding the straps down so he could kiss her bare shoulders where her freckles met, he said, "Anything you wear for me is sexy."
"Mmm," Petra sighed as he continued working at her top, finding the ribbon in the back and letting it fall off her arms until she was left in her bare breasts.
Instinctively, she went to cover then, but at Levi's eager and furtive look, she released them, guiding his hands back onto her chest, encouraging him to knead and caress her.
He was clumsy, but in an endearing way, fascinated that he was able to elicit such sounds from her, and when he realized she was only wearing her underwear, and he was wearing too much, he immediately discarded his shirt, then moved to unbuckle his pants.
"Let me help you with that," Petra said, sliding onto her knees to unzip his fly, then eagerly sliding them down his legs as he kicked it off.
"Wow," she breathed at the tent in his boxers, and he had the urge to cover himself as well until Petra reached for him, stroking his length and he moaned loudly.
"Y-you can't do that, I'm gonna come," he coaxed himself to say despite how magnificent it felt.
Blushing, happy she was able to make him feel so much with so little, Petra removed her hand and embraced him as they fell back onto the mattress.
They kissed again, feeling each other's bodies for the first time in this state, hands needy but asking for permission, Levi skimmed the tips of his fingers over Petra's ass, earning a hiss of pleasure.
"I need you," she whined, and unsure of how to proceed, Levi detached himself and grabbed a condom, hands shaking as he undid the wrapper.
"You know how to put it on?" Petra asked out of concern and fascination.
He nodded, slipping it down while pulling the tip. "I've done a test run just to make sure. I, uh, was thinking of you the entire time—-" Fuck, this was not romantic in the slightest, Levi chastised to himself. Petra didn't want to hear how he tested the physics of it, how to avoid using it incorrectly which led to him snapping it against his fingers.
But practice makes perfect, and he felt confident as he hovered above Petra, kissing her neck softly while feeling awkward from the latex between them. She hooked her thumbs over her panties, taking them off, and spread her legs for him, her expression yearning and hopeful.
"I've heard it might hurt," Levi said, breath heady at the sight of her womanhood, a cute ginger patch of curls.
"It's okay. You can't hurt me, it's you," she said gently, resting her hands against his shoulder blades, egging him forward.
Levi placed the tip at her entrance, holding his breath as Petra wriggled beneath him, gasping from the friction and he slid in very slowly, both moaning from the contact.
Petra was slick with arousal, and as he continued to push in, they gasped in time, and Levi had to keep himself from moving too firmly because she felt absolutely wonderful, all warm and tight.
"You okay?" He asked, noticing her wrinkled expression, and Petra gasped, opening one eye.
"Y-yeah, you're just really big. But I feel okay."
Pride swelled within him, kissing her gently as he throbbed with desire, and asked her permission to move.
Lifting her hips, he groaned, pumping into her once, then twice, then on the third—-
"Argh!" He gasped, already coming, not being to restrain himself because that's how good she felt.
Shame washed over him as Petra realized what was happening, and she held him gently as goosebumps danced across his skin.
He immediately removed himself from her, hobbling to the bathroom, and Petra looked worried as she processed what had just happened, but pleased that nothing unsafe occurred.
She squeezed her legs together, disappointment and frustration throbbing between her legs, but Levi reappeared, looking thoroughly abashed as he tucked his underwear back on.
"Petra, I'm so sorry about that. Let me make it up to you—"
And before Petra could protest, he crawled to her on all fours at the base of the bed, and placed his hands on her knees, opening them slightly.
"I read that most girls like this better away," he began, kissing her inner thigh, and Petra rolled her head back, happy he was tending to her, but squeaking as he immediately dove his head between her legs, then licking her core with an unpracticed tongue.
"Eek!" She screeched, kicking him in the chest out of reflex from the surprising sensation.
"Ow!" Levi exclaimed, falling back and looking like a mixture of pissed off and fear.
"Did I hurt you?" He asked, inching back to her, and Petra plopped her head against the pillow, laughing hard to herself.
"I should be asking you that, I'm sorry I kicked you," she said, giggling into the popcorn ceiling, then turning to face him. "I think for that, we need to warm up a bit. But...I don't want that tonight. Another time," she added with a hopeful look and Levi smiled sadly, hanging his head.
"I'm shit in bed."
Petra weaved a hand through his hair, realizing how much pressure he was under. "No, you're not, Levi. You were just excited. If anything, it's flattering," she said, an adorable pink blush filling her cheeks.
"We'll get better with time and practice. While we wait for you to reset, I brought something for me. I figured something like this would happen."
She padded to her duffel bag, taking out a pink dildo, and clicked it on. It vibrated, and Levi looked at her with a dumbstruck face as she smirked in response.
"Maybe we'll need all those condoms anyway."
46 notes · View notes
marireadshellblazer · 3 years
Text
Hellblazer Issue #14
Kicking it into gear, now! This is a part of John’s life I feel a lot of people either don’t know about or often forget about. Before reading the series I heard all about how shitty the last 50-ish issues were, the glory of Mike Carey’s run, and the uhh…seal thing from issue #13. This arc is an important one and I was really surprised I didn’t hear more about it before. So much of the John Constantine lore and history happens in these early chapters, so it’s kinda weird it’s not talked about much. Oh well.
Now, we move on to homeless/transient John. Indeed, this arc of the series takes us into a hippie commune where John lays low in an attempt to avoid the law.
Ahh yes, just another morning for John Constantine. Kinda rude, but I suppose he has a point.
William Blake
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Ha! Be careful what you wish for, John!
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Weird plug for Diet Pepsi, but I’ll take it.
The incident from the apartment in Paddington still lingering (see issue #10). Poor John.
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Same though.
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Ha! Yeah! To add to what Swamp Thing did to John a few chapters earlier (see issue #10 of Hellblazer and issues # of Swamp Thing to see what was going on there) he actually got him a tattoo without his consent (I think it’s supposed to be a pine tree?). He was pissed at him for talking shit, but it was still kind of a dick move. Now, that’s not to say I don’t love Swamp Thing. I do. That comic is a cosmic, existential masterpiece (or at least the early chapters are), but even I can say that Swampy did him dirty.
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This sound exactly like one of Delano’s twitter posts. It’s a goldmine, by the way. 9/10 do recommend.
Awkward way to meet up LOL but here she is; Mercury. I do like her, honestly. As far as child characters go in media she’s not bad. And I like that she does, eventually, bring out a softer side of John. She and her mom got me thinking about Dean’s relationship with Lisa and her son Ben in Supernatural (I am so sorry for bringing up that cursed show. To be fair, I’ve seen almost every season, so a reference was bound to show up eventually). Also, how she calls her mom by her first name and has a sort of supernatural connection has me thinking about the film The Ring.
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Woah sending a kid out to look for psychedelic mushrooms. What is with the adults in this series?
I love that Merc collects strays, be it animals or people. It speaks to her connection with nature and how she views the world. 
I gotta agree here, at least to an extent. Really, nature worship has been around so long because it’s just a part of us. It’s everything and everywhere. Even in this day and age, with all out modern technology, we still have a connection. It’s a bone that is strained, but not broken.
While I sort of get why they don’t want people hanging around the stones, they could make some more exceptions for people, right? Maybe?
To be totally honest, I first learned about ley lines and megalithic mysteries via watching late night re-runs of Ancient Aliens, which is simultaneously infuriating and hilarious. I mean, it got me interested in some things I hadn’t known about before, but at what cost?
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Here is the book John is talking about; The Old Straight Track
I wasn’t able to find much on John Michel, but I did find writer John Michell, who wrote about crop circles and Earth mysteries. Maybe it was a misspelling?
I like their little hippie community. It’s a bit like John’s place in Paddington; another safe haven where he can relax. Not too close to anyone personally, blending in and able to feel safe in the accepting and chill atmosphere. On the surface everyone has eccentricities that are equal or greater than his, so he doesn’t stick out. John, whether he wants to admit it or not, is like pretty much all humans in that he does search for community and belonging.
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WOW John!
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Marj is on to you, John!
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This is EXACTLY what happened to me the last time I went camping. 0/10 do not recommend.
Words I had to look up:
Nick- prison cell
Yellow press- journalism that has very little research put into it and very little truth to it. Instead, concentrating on scandalous headlines rather than real news. Kinda like click bait but more crap.
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llogllady99 · 3 years
Text
Crimson Red : Chapter 1
Scholar’s Mate
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CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Petra, Hange, Moblit, Mike, Nanaba, Eld, Oluo, Gunther, Kenny, Erwin’s Father, Kuchel, Frieda Reiss, Nile Dok, Yelena, Marie RELATIONSHIPS | Levi x Erwin GENRE | Mystery, Thriller, Romance, Dark Academia IV | Blood and gore, Blood and violence, Alternate universe - modern setting/high school/ boarding school, angst and fluff and smut, knife kink, knife play, drama & romance, eventual romance, eventual smut, emotional manipulation, cults, rituals SUMMARY | Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry is the best boarding school in all of England, producing over time leaders of Nations and outstanding personalities in society as well as being the perfect environment for your child to flourish in, spending his time with specially trained staff to support his need and wonderful, well behaved peers like him. We only have two rules: don't go in the woods and do not try to go through locked doors. From the statement above one would have assumed that Sina was the perfect school and that the rules that were imposed were just for their children's safety, but as Levi joins the school at the beginning of his senior year, he uncovers a secret so putrid and morbid that will leave him scared for life. That is...if he manages to make it out alive.
Chapter song: Devil’s trill sonata
August 23rd 1996, London
Deformed, lazy, pungent smelling circles rose above her head, as Kuchel exhaled the smoke the cigarette she was currently holding between her long, bony, alabaster fingers provided her with. She did not smoke that often, only when she was under a rather stressful situation. Today, her son would be departing from home in order to attend a boarding school across country. It wasn’t that she did not trust him or have enough faith in him, but since his brother announced Levi’s immediate enrolment, a feeling of distress had started to grow in the pit of her stomach, becoming larger and larger everyday, until it finally managed to take upon her entire being. Thence, the obnoxious amount of cigarette butts lying around carelessly and forgotten on the balcony of her victorian terraced house. Taking one last drag out of the device, which would inevitably bring upon her death someday, she dropped it to the tiled floor and not sparing a second glance its way, stomped it until the electric orange that lined its edge turned a dark ashy brown. Further covering up herself with her long brown coat and shivering slightly from the chill morning, Kuchel made her way back inside the house where the sound of piano keys being pressed consistently in formation of a slow and disturbing song grew louder and louder as she approached her son’s room.
The door was opened and inside a large piano could be spotted by the large and covered with white and blue curtains window. Sited at the instrument was Levi, pressing the keys with precision, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“Devil’s trill sonata?” Kuchel asked, sitting down on the small sofa in front of a coffee table where an unfinished game of chess laid, its pieces shining with the bright light seeping in from the windows. If she didn’t know any better she might’ve said that this was a new chess set, but with her son’s obsession with keeping everything clean and organised, something rarely got in poor condition.
“Indeed, mother. Took me a while to learn it. Care to share your opinion?” Levi replied not taking his eyes off the keyboard.
“It’s exquisite, like every sound your hands ever produced on that piano.” She answered, leaning further into the soft cushions of the couch. As if to prove her wrong, Levi pressed the wrong key and unbalanced the whole song, losing his concentration and ultimately his rhythm. Sighing in frustration, he got up and joined his mother on the couch.
“And just when I think I’ve got it, I mess it up.” Levi fretted, then glanced at the unfinished game of chess. “Humour me mother and grant me the honour of one last game of chess before we depart.”
“Certainly,” she replied then helped her son rearrange the pieces on the board. She chose white so she could dictate the conduct of the game: a simple scholar’s mate from her son as they were already late to the station. ‘E4 e5, Qh7 Nc6, Bc4 Nf6, Qxf7’ , Levi checkmated her, stood up and sought her hand, also bring her to her feet shortly after.
“I think it would have been better if we postponed the game, winning in such a desolate manner almost has me furious. However, I am well aware that we are already late to the station. Please lead the way mother.” Kuchel smiled at her boy, of course it would infuriate him, this game was nothing like the hour long matches they used to share, her being the first that introduced the game to Levi.
“Levi dear, you never did tell me why you quit competition, you would have become a master by now.” Kuchel said from the driver’s seat, looking shortly in Levi’s way. She personally offered to drive her son to the station as she wanted to spent every last moment with him before he was gone. She was sure to miss him dearly, and he would miss her too, though he won’t show it because he would be too embarrassed to do so.
“I’m quite confident you know, but I will tell you one final time: Isabell enjoyed the game and it feels wrong competing, something that she never got to experience as the rug was pulled from beneath her feet before she even had a chance.” Levi turned away and looked out the window, slightly fidgeting with his hands. “What do you think the school will be like? You attended a boarding school yourself, so please tell me.”
“That was a long time sweetie, a lot has changed since then, but I will tell you this: the bond you will form with your soon to be friends will last a life time.” Kuchel replied, not taking her eyes off the road. After a few more turns they arrived at the train station. It was finally time to say goodbye. Levi regarded her with one of his warmest smiles and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I will see you soon, mother. Take care.” And just like that he was gone, his small form disappearing behind the high arched red pillars of the station, the small black suitcase with the last of his belongings trailing behind him. His other luggage had been sent before hand. Kuchel wiped a tear from her cheek and got back in the car, heading in the direction of the closest high class bar.
-
To say the train was packed would be an understatement, every wagon was agglomerated by students just like him chatting animatedly about their summers, their high pitched voices ringing through the train, worsening his already present headache. He decided to try another wagon, so pushing past the intermediate hall’s door, he entered the isle of one with cabins. Every single one of them was packed with the same loud and obnoxious students, except the one from the very end. A cabin whose occupant was a girl with messy brown hair, tied up carelessly into a ponytail, square glasses sitting gently on the tip of her slightly down turned nose. She was mindlessly eating from a bag of chips as she pondered over whatever it was that she was looking at through the compartment’s window. Levi slid the door open and cleared his throat to get the girl’s attention. The girl shook her head, startled a bit by his presence then cocked an eyebrow his way, urging him to say something.
“Do you mind?”
“Mind what?” The brunette replied, her voice melodic and with just the right amount of deepness to it.
“Me sitting here.” Levi replied awkwardly, faking indifference and adopting a bored looking expression. He was never good with people and interactions like this distressed him immensely.
“Not at all, please take a sit.” The girl smiled and gestured for the sit in front of him.
“Thanks.” Levi hoisted his luggage up and dumped it on the support space above their heads, before proceeding to sit across from her. For a few minutes none of them spoke a word, instead switching their gaze between the landscape present beyond the window and themselves when they thought the other wasn’t looking.
“Hange.” The girl suddenly muttered.
“Excuse me?” Levi switched his gaze towards her, tilting his head to the side bewildered.
“Name’s Hange.” The girl, Hange, rapidly spoke, seemingly experiencing the same overwhelming emotions that came with meeting new people as him.
“Nice meeting you Hange, my name is Levi.” He extended her hand out to her and after a moment’s hesitation the brunette shook his hand.
"You headin’ to Sina?”
“Indeed, I am. I assume you do too?” He said, his eyes fixing her uniform: a white and freshly starched button up with a navy blue skirt, tailored to sit just above the knee, and a purple tie.
“Yeah.” Hange replied awkwardly then started fidgeting with her hands a bit more.
“The students screaming like they own the place do too?” He tried to ask, to further stir the conversation.
“Yeah, they are. My friends were also supposed to be here but one of them will be coming tomorrow and the rest are already at the academy.”
“So soon? Wow, I barely came today because it was required and because of the orientation day tomorrow.” Levi was being unusually vocal. Maybe he was just trying to soothe the other girl’s nerves, but he also felt that he could trust her, weirdly enough. At his affirmation, Hange’s face lighted up, and all traces of embarrassment seemed to have fled from her face as she now began talking earnestly. Orientation day was an opportunity for the students to mingle with other houses, or factions as she like to call them, and meet their professors, explore the school, and if they weren’t already be sorted into a house. Hange also made sure to enumerate all the teachers present, emphasising on someone with the name of Frieda Reiss, the math teacher and Nile Dok, the history teacher that apparently made very good jokes and his lessons were always pleasant for the students, being one of the few moments of relaxation throughout their day.
“What house are you in Levi?”
“That I certainly don’t know, I suppose I am to be sorted.”
“Yeah, well the housing system is pretty fucked up if you ask me. They organise us based on our personality type.”
“Is that a bad thing? It doesn’t seem to be, I would be quite content with being placed in a house with personalities similar to mine, makes the whole socialising thing so much easier.”
“Sure, but you wouldn’t be stepping outside your comfort zone,” retorted Hange. “Not to mention the discrimination against those who are considered “less special” are made.”
“I believe that if we were all to be the same, the world would surely become quite insipid.”
“If everyone shared your opinion, the school would be a much more better place.”
“Please explain the housing system to me, Hange.” Her gaze settling once again on him from where it was directed out the window, she began explaining. The housing system was based on the personality types of people and the roles which they played in society, making it easier for the staff to each of their individual needs. There were four houses. The first was Boethiah house, where architects, logicians, commanders, and debaters would reside. Its signature colour was purple, symbolising the high intellect its students possessed. The second house was Antheia, where advocates, mediators, protagonists, and campaigners found their place. Represented by the colour green, the house was known for its social and communicative students. The third was Martell house, which gave place to the logisticians, defenders, executives, and consuls, the indigo blue colour signifying their nurturing and loyal nature. The last of the houses was Lannister, housing the virtuosus, adventurers, entrepreneurs, and entertainers. The people in this house were fun and full of humour, the colour yellow revealing their outgoing nature. The houses were named by the four founders of the school, respectively Phoibe Boethiah, Panacea Martell, Caelum Antheia, Kestrel Lannister.
“Hange I’m sorry to interrupt you but this whole thing seems very Harry Potter to me, and don’t let me get started on the names, they sound right out of a fantasy novel.” Levi snorted, amused by his new school.
“Yeah, but the school was founded in 1000 AD, imagine the names they had then.” Hange replied, huffing out a laugh.
“I assume you’re from Boethiah?” He said, jerking his chin in the direction of her purple tie.
“Yeah, we are the smallest house as our personalities are so rare. I wonder what house they’ll place you in. Did you take the test?”
“Yeah, when I took my entrance exam a few months ago, something about a psychological evaluation.” And with that their conversation ended, instead each of them turning their attention to their forever changing surroundings, vibrant green meadows and flowery fields slowly turning into dull, grey moors as the sun above then started to set, orange, red, yellow, and orange blending with the dark blue the night brought along.
-
At the academy, in the encrimsoned light of the headmaster’s office, Erwin Smith stood proudly  with his hands behind his back watching from the giant circular window over the school’s gates in anticipation of the students’ arrival for the new trimester.
“You did quite a good job last year, Erwin. I expect the same this year.” Arcturus Smith, Erwin’s father and also the headmaster, spoke from his dark oak desk in the middle of the room, breaking the silence that had settled over the office. The blonde turned his attention to his father and bowed his head in appreciation and assurance. Arcturus bent slightly over the desk, his chin now resting in the palm of his hands.
“Please come take a seat. Let me introduce you to this year’s targets.”
“I was actually questioning myself when you were going to introduce them to me.” Erwin said, as he made to take a sit across his father. The man pushed two files in his direction, both of them stamped with red ink that spelled “CLASSIFIED”. Carefully, he picked up the first one and opened it. The picture of a redheaded girl with short hair stood in front of him.
“Nifa Thompson,” he read out loud. He eyed his father expectingly.
“She’s a sophomore and you have until September 21st, think you can handle it?” Arcturus cocked his eyebrow. “The girl isn’t very sociable and I’m sure some undeserved attention from the school’s head boy and number one bachelor will send her flying over the moon.” Erwin sighed and shook his head, then after a moment’s reconsideration looked up at his father and approved. The next file was about a new boy by the name of Levi Ackerman, he had short raven hair styled in an undercut, piercing blue-silver eyes, and a bored, impassive expression. He doubted he would be an easy target but he was up for a challenge. Looking up at his father, Erwin smirked.
“This one is perfect father. Blood type O and INTJ Personality type. He’s a gem. His mother is an alcoholic, his uncle is nowhere to be found, and he has no other close relatives. No one's going to miss him when he's gone. ” Now he laughed. Arcturus eyes shone with satisfaction.
“Just perfect for this winter’s sacrifice. And guess what? It’s also going to be a full moon, just like you always wanted. Maybe this year I’ll let you do the honourifics. That is, if everything goes as planned.” Then the headmaster leaned down in his chair and adopting again his usual cold demeanour, he said, “You are dismissed, son. Please go and welcome our students. I wish you a good year, full of achievements and perfect scores.
Erwin bowed and left the office.
-
As Levi walked through the massive iron gates of the school, he immediately gawked. Sina was like nothing he had seen. To put it simply: the school was spectacular. Touched by gothic architecture, the building displayed pointed arches lighted by golden yellow lamps from below, flying buttresses, and embellished colonnades. One feature that particularly stood out to Levi were the large lion statuettes that stood firmly place on each side of the enormous front staircase that started from the yard in which they were currently walking in, and that had a beautiful lotus pooled white marble fountain, and ended right beneath two high arched oak doors. At the gate they were met with a teacher, a women in her thirties that had piercing blue-purple eyes and ebony black hair that fell flawlessly on her navy blue Tudor coat, who escorted them inside the school.
The entry gave way to a long and wide hallway with vaulted ceiling and intermittently placed pillars. A few feet from each other hung golden chandeliers lightning their way as they headed in the direction the teacher was leading them in. High up in the ceiling there was stained glass through which the moon’s light slipped in, almost unnoticeably.
In the dining room there were four long tables each placed parallel to each other, the ceiling was painted with frescoes, beautiful biblical images. The professors’ dinning table was in an adjacent room, being separated by one of those pointed arches Levi had seen outside. Similar to the hallway, the dinning room also had stained glass, one particular piece stood out to Levi as it was the image of Jesus himself painted on red and blue glass, slightly highlighted by the moon’s light, whose outline could be made through the blue glass that composed Jesus’s robe. Truly spectacular. Even though he was just as rich as everyone attending here, he had never seen such a school. His last school was also private, but instead had modern architecture with the sparing of a few buildings such as the chapel or assembly hall.
“Please leave your luggage by the entrance and go take a seat at the table assigned to your house specifically. Those of you who have not been assigned a house yet please go and stand by the teachers’ table as the headmaster and the other staff will join us shortly and place you where they think fits you best. I’m Frieda Reiss and I will be your math teacher this trimester.”
Shortly after, the staff made their way to their table and as everyone was seated and quieted down, Arcturus, the headmaster delivered his annual welcoming speech and turned to the fresh meat waiting patiently and awkwardly into a corner.
“Ah I suppose I am to assign each of you your house, very well then come on here don’t be shy.” The group made their way once more in the middle of the dinning room. All of the eyes were on them, the other students waiting just as nervously as them to see who they would be welcoming in their house next. The headmaster rummaged through his black Tudor coat and pulled out a piece of yellow, coffee stained paper and started reading aloud:
“Emma Williams goes to Lannister.” A blonde petite freshman girl made her way to the table on the far off right of the room and proceeded to sit down at the table with the other students, who were cheering and clapping exasperatingly, excited for their new member.
“Jane Walker to Martell,” again, a freckled redheaded girl made her way to one of the middle tables on the left, also welcomed by the cheering of the other members and quietly sat down with a smile on her face, clearly satisfied with the choice.
“Hmm, Levi Ackermann, an interesting name for someone British. Your assignment has been a hard one as the test refused to reveal anything concrete, but after a long dispute among all members of the faculty, we decided to assign you to Boethiah as an architect!” Arcturus beamed, extending his hands and widening his eyes as he bore Levi with his predatory gaze. The boy smiled then made his way to the table in the far off left end of the dinning room. His eyes searched involuntary for Hange, who was seated at the middle already on her feet and waving him over ecstatically.
“Oh my god Levi! I can’t believe you’re an architect!! I never would have guessed! Come have a sit don’t just stand there.” Levi took a sit beside her as the brunette shuffled to the side to make him space. Everyone was looking at him, throwing glances and misplaced whispers to their colleagues. Levi only smiled in their direction and looked around the table, his eyes stopping on a fiery strawberry blonde girl in front of him that was burning holes in him with her gaze. They stared at each other, none making a step towards the other. Hange was talking about something in the background but he didn’t turn to pay attention, refusing to break eye contact with the girl. Eventually, with a puff the girl relinquished and extended her hand over the table,
“Petra,” she said. Levi took her hand and with a smirk told her his name. And just like that Levi made two friends at the Academy already, chatting animatedly with them over dinner. At some point, someone placed a hand over his shoulder. Somewhat startled, the raven flinched then turn to look for the hand’s owner, a blonde and well built boy with a cold stare was fixing him with his sapphire eyes, a lop sided grin present on his face.
“Erwin Smith, I came here to give you an official greeting to our school,” pulling Levi to his feet, he forcefully shook his hand and with a forced grin continued, “I am the head boy here and I am in charge of the students, if you have any concern or question about anything by all means come to me and I will do my best to support you and grant the answers you seek. Welcome to Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry, Levi Ackerman.” And with that Erwin dropped his hand and after placing a hand on his shoulder, walked away retaking his seat at the head of their obscenely long table, disappearing out of his sight as he took a sit back down. A rather interesting start to what he reckoned would be an equally interesting year.
Notes:
I do not own Attack on titan or any of the characters in the show or related to it!!
I really hoped you like it, if you did please stick around as there will be more where that came from!
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kaypeace21 · 4 years
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something i noticed, during the s3 byler argument, Mike says “El’s not stupid, it’s not MY fault you don’t like girls.” Mike’s “it’s not my fault” doesn’t fit as a retort, the theme of his retort should be defending El. He should have said “it’s not HER fault you don’t like girls”. Knowing there were other versions of that line the writers must have consciously chosen to leave this one in, knowing how it could be interpreted. anyway, do you have any idea why mike even said that line?
Yes, I have talked about it -here (in my long ‘why Mike is gay post’). But since so many people misinterpret the meaning of Mike’s words- might as well do a shorter/more brief version .And do a post focusing on it. HE’S SAYING THIS TO HIMSELF!
First some background
Mike DOES NOT think Will is gay. Dustin foreshadows their fight in s1 saying “Dustin: “He’s just jealous.”  Mike: “What?” Dustin: “Sometimes your total obliviousness just blows my mind?”  Dustin: “ What matters is, he’s your best friend. And then this girl shows up… and all you ever want to do is spend time with her!” Mike: “that’s not true!”
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Dustin:  “Yes it is! And you know it. And he knows it. But no one ever says anything until you’re both start… yelling at each other like goblins with intelligence scores of 0. And now everything is weird”
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Mike: “He’s not my best friend! … I mean he is. But so are you.”
 He won’t let himself consider that Will could be gay because then it would be harder to pretend he isn’t gay himself . That it isn’t just a weird phase that he’ll grow out of. We see that throughout the show Mike is projecting his feelings for Will on to El . Who in s1 was described by 5 characters as looking like a boy (and specifically like Will, by 3 characters ). There’s just way too many examples of him projecting to list here. But s3 we see Mike is trying to mimic romantic moments between him and Will (from s2) to El (in s3). In order to transfer his romantic feelings for Will on to El. The “blank makes you crazy” vs “crazy together”, the shed scenes of “most important thing” vs “the best thing I’ve ever done”,etc.
The difference between past seasons though, is that Mike is now conscious that he’s doing this. The more feminine El gets- the harder for him it is to pretend. Especially now that they’re going through puberty- and the physical differences between boys and girls is becoming more prominent. We see this in the first ep of s3.  I talked about it more here, but the Duffers use music with all the characters to convey plot points or the emotions of the characters. One example is when Mike forces Will to dance with a girl so he ‘fakes a smile’. 
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So yes, the fact that the very first lyrics that play when we see mileven kiss for the first time  is “Just a little uncertainty can bring you down”-  reflects Mike’s true feelings.And we know this is how Mike (not El) feels about their relationship because he begins to sing the song right after this lyric.The song is even from the album titled “boy in the box”. AKA: Mike is in the closet
“And nobody wants to know you now. And nobody wants to show you how.So if you’re lost and on your own. You can never surrender.” He fears that if he isn’t straight everyone he cares about will abandon him, and that he’d be lost and the only one ‘like this’ -all alone.But he can’t ‘surrender’ the false-idea of being in love with El (out of fear). This is the rural Indiana in the 80s- at the height of the aids epidemic. People on the news said gay people were being rightfully punished with the ‘gay cancer’ (aids). They equated being gay with being a perv, p*d*phile, murderer, or mentally ill. Churches said you’d ‘burn in hell’. In rural areas people would form gangs and murder people they thought were gay. Of course Mike is terrified and wants to be straight! His parents in s2 were Reagan supporters. And Reagan was notoriously homophobic. He’s probably afraid his parents will hate him, kick him out, or that someone will kill him or he’ll die from aids by simply kissing a boy.
  We see Mike is doing his own f-ed up form of conversion therapy. He kisses El but he puts on the wall a drawing of Will so he can look at it while he kisses her. Probably hoping to transfer his romantic feeling for Will on to her.
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Like that’s Will! He has light brown hair (not black) and Will is the only one associated with fire and has drawn himself with fire in the past. And Will even overlaps with the rainbow drawing that reads “mike”  before we see the mileven kiss. It was intentional.
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So when Will Says “you’re ruining everything (their relationship) .And for what?! So you can swap spit with some stupid girl.”
This infuriates Mike because he thinks swapping spit with El is the best way to save their relationship! And he’s been trying to ‘fix himself’ so Will doesn’t hate him- and it hasn’t been working, to Mike’s frustration. So he screams “El’s not stupid, it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” because he’s projecting. And although, he loves Will… a part of him probably is a bit angry that he’s making him feel this way. 
Mike never actually says to El’s face that he loves her- he even says during his fake-confession  “[old people] say it”.And later Mike apologizes to El and says “sorry, I sound like a [7 year old].” Aka the number Will rolled in s1. Right after he discusses d&d with Will and talks about seeing both of them for the Hollidays. So it’s telling that after he says “El’s not stupid . it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” (to himself). He immediately regrets yelling at Will. He even closes his eyes and takes a breath before continuing.  And apologizes,  by giving a heteronormative answer of:  
“I’m not trying to be a jerk, but [we’re not kids anymore]. What did you think, really?! that we’d never get girlfriends. That we’d just sit in my basement and play games for the rest our lives?” 
Mike is yelling this at himself to keep his feelings for Will under control.El is an idea to Mike about what adulthood is- which is why he doesn’t really defend el (and his ‘love’ for her) but just talks about “girlfriends” in an abstract way.  This was essentially Mike telling  himself-  he’s NOT allowed to just be with Will and never have a gf. He has to grow out of his ‘childish feelings’ for Will- before it’s too late, because being a gay man is dangerous.  That’s why when the camera is on Mike (when he looks back a the byers house -and they only show Will and Mike). The dialogue is  “But I know you’re getting older, growing, changing. I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change.”He doesn’t want things to change (and his feelings for Will to evolve into love, because that means Mike has to admit he’s gay and accept his future as a gay man-which at the time, didn’t seem very bright). They both are afraid of the future because of this. Mike tries to act like a ‘straight-adult’ and Will tries to revert back into his childhood because of this. 
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Mike also mentions “games’ because d&d is a symbol of byler’s romantic relationship. He’s just pretending to not enjoy the d&d game. Mike says they have to get girlfriends and they can’t play games for the rest of their lives. But that’s what Mike wants- he just wants to be with Will for the rest of his life (playing games) without either of them having girlfriends. Because, we see Mike never took any of Will’s d&d art off his walls.Even though he changed his poster (from the same wall  that had will’s drawings on it) Mike couldn’t remove any of Will’s d&d art.  It was an act - which is why he was upset (in the last episode) when Will was donating the game, and why during the Hopper speech,  it pans to Mike as Hopper says “I miss playing board games every night.”
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Mike even has a binder filled with every d&d drawing Will has ever given him.
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In the pilot, they even say Will uses d&d to “escape” his insecurities about his sexuality “like mike” & Mike uses d&d to “escape” his insecurities about not having a gf.  * And no, dustin & Lucas didn’t use d&d to “escape” anything- in the pilot script.
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And right before Mike says the famous “crazy together”line it zooms in on Mike’s d&d set.
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The  “crazy together” scene is romantic since both Mike & Flo both equate love making you ‘crazy’. Mike saying “it makes you crazy” and Flo saying saying in s1 “ only love makes you crazy and that damn stupid”). 
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(x)(x)
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Mike is lying about his feelings for El- and El is just confused about her feelings for Mike.  The only one’s with mutual feelings for Mike is Will! Will even has a breakdown and goes ‘crazy’ after seeing a pic of them the night they promised to go crazy together - and then Will repeatedly calls himself ‘stupid’ . Because this is when he realizes and admits to himself he’s in love with Mike. And so he grabs a bat (that his dad- who called him a ‘queer’ taught him to use) and destroys castle Byers in a fit of anger and self-hate. That fight was what caused Will to realize his feelings for Mike and the jealousy he had been feeling were because he was in love with Mike. When Mike asks “what did you think, really? That we’d never get girlfriends… play games for the rest of our lives?” 
Will is 100% honest a says brokenly “yeah. I guess I did” And then says angrily “I really did!” . Even if both don’t understand the gravity of their words in that moment Will was honest- he doesn’t want to ever have a girlfriend he just wants to be with Mike for the rest of his life. And Mike, who assumes Will is straight, is shocked that this conversation upset Will. Or that he would disagree with his words.
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And again their last conversation (about d&d is very telling and is foreshadowing). What Will meant when he said ,  “I’ll just use yours when I come back- I mean… if WE still wanna play”. Is essentially foreshadowing that the ball is in Mike’s court. If he wants to be with Will for the rest of his life he has to initiate it and prove he loves Will after pretending for so long to love El, instead.
gif credit:  first 2 gifs ampwn98 , 3th gif by janebycrs, 5th gif Cath-avery , 4 & 6th gifs mine
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bathroombreaks · 4 years
Text
gg 1x03 rewatch
the questions are from @pynkhues, you can find them here.
1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!
the big mike scene!! the comedy is unparalleled
2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?
ok so, hear me out, i love the scene of the girls getting drunk after giving rio the fake cash, it’s hilarious and i love that shot of beth after they say they can go back to normal now. truly, this scene is amazing. but only in a vacuum. in the context of the story, i am infuriated every time i remember that annie knew she had a home visit with the social worker and decided to get drunk in the middle of the afternoon before said visit!!!! it’s so fucking dumb and irresponsible!! annie being irresponsible is A Thing, i know, but also i think they took it too far. like, i totally get being late because you had to dump the car and you weren’t counting on it, but also why risk being late or forgetting about the visit by getting drunk?? why not just go home and make sure the apartment is cleaned?? i hate it so much. especially because i love the scene with ben where she says nothing matters more than him and this just doesn’t line up with that.
3. Why do you think Rio decided to trust the girls with the Canada job?
uhmmm, so i’ve seen some people theorise that he didn’t trust them and that it was a test. big mike either truly didn’t know they were coming because he wasn’t rio’s supplier or simply wasn’t warned or he was told by rio told not to hand over the money to them. either way, the purpose of it was to see what they’d do to get out of that situation. and tbh i really like that theory and i think i might agree!! we’ve seen him do stuff like that, i think it totally makes sense. and i mean, he definitely wanted to see what else beth could come up with on the spot, right?? so sending her on that little trip, there was no real way for him to lose - best case scenario, they bring back the money, so rio and his boys didn’t have to waste their time on the trip, and worst case scenario, they get arrested but he doesn’t care what happens to them and they don’t have enough information to snitch so it’s fine.
4. In this episode, we see that Boomer’s been tailing Annie long enough to find them at Boland Motors stealing the car. How long do you think he’d been tailing Annie for at this point? And why do you think he’s so fixated on her?
time isn’t real in this show so i have no idea. just kidding, just kidding, @missmaxime​ proved time does exist with her timeline posts (which can be found here). i think he started tailing her when they let him go, so a couple of days?? i mean, he has showed up at her apartement before when she’s there, but i don’t think it’s such a wild guess to think someone would be home that late at night, y’know?? and i think he’s fixated on annie because he’s a creepy, disgusting man and she had the gall to reject him and talk back to him.
5. Sheila took credit for the money Ruby had stolen for Sara’s medication! What do you think is the history between Ruby, Stan and Sheila? And with the way this show likes to full circle on older storylines, do you think there’s a chance she might come back?
ruby mentions she’s been after stan since high school so i think probably sheila was expecting stan to ask her out, but instead he asked out ruby, or something along those lines. and, ok i have nothing against sheila coming back, but i also don’t really see a way for them to do it?? or what the point would be?? they kind of came to a stalemate when sheila realised ruby absolutely knew sheila wasn’t the one who gave them the money (and maybe even that ruby was) and there’s really no way around it?? sheila can’t rat out ruby without ratting out herself and neither can ruby. and i don’t really see how they’d get out of that or even what would be the point with trying. idk, sorry
6. Do you think Big Mike was trying to rip Rio off? Or did he just not believe the girls were who they said they were?
i like the thought that rio told him specifically not to give them the money without putting up a fight because he wanted to see what else beth can pull out of her ass, but realistically big mike probably was trying to rip off rio. seems unlikely that he wouldn’t believe who they were, they seemed to have all the instructions right?? and how did they know where to go or who to ask for if they weren’t in on it?? so yeah that’s probably more likely, he figured with the three suburban housewifes he’d get away with ripping him off.
7. On a scale of 1-10, how attracted were Beth and Rio to one another in the warehouse scene?
beth’s efficiency kink is really shining in that scene, 10/10 she would bang rio on top of a pile of his fake money. and rio’s been into her since he laid eyes on her so 10/10 would bang her on top of said pile if she asked
8. Did Annie ever stand a chance with the social worker against Greg and Nancy?
i think so, yes. i’m not from the usa but from what i hear it seems like social services there are big on letting the kids stay with their parents. and ben’s old enough to pick which parent he gets to stay with in my country, so i’ll assume he is too in the usa. i think if annie showed that her apartment is clean, her bills are paid on time, ben is clothed, fed and happy, etc etc, things could’ve worked out for her.
9. Do Ruby and Stan regularly use handcuffs in the bedroom?
oh damn, did not see that question coming. y’know what? yes, they do. unlike beth and dean, they’re still very much in love and sexually attracted to each other, so they probably didn’t spend the last 20 years having only the most vanilla sex on the planet. fully believe handcuffs are a thing they’re into and regularly use.
10. Do you think Rio thought Beth had left him her pearls for a booty call? And more importantly, do you think he gave them back?
yes and no, in that order. that is not the look of a man who thinks he’s about to go into a work meeting, that is the look of a man who thinks he’s about to have fantastic table sex. and he absolutely kept the pearls. they’re in the same box as her panties from the bathroom and the bullets
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rsbry-beret · 4 years
Text
I Looked At You Like The Stars That Shined
Find it on ao3 here
There were three unalienable (inalienable?) truths that Zoey was absolutely sure of.
1. Max was the best friend anyone could ever ask for, except maybe Michelle Obama, because duh.
2. Python was the best coding language and anyone who says otherwise is a lying liar who lies, or at the very least someone Not To Be Trusted.
3. Leif was the most annoying straight white man she had ever met in her entire life.
It was anyone’s guess how anyone could possibly bear to be friends with him. He was an asshole, albeit a talented one, and a total slytherin- not that all slytherins were bad, but. Well. Leif was willing to step on people if it meant he could get a step up.
Of course, part of it was just Zoey being overdramatic. She loved Leif because they’d been working together for forever, and he was part of her team, and it was hard to hate someone after having access to their innermost thoughts and feelings about their doubts via song and dance. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.
And Tobin was even worse, some days. Sure, he was a complete computer genius, but sometimes talking to him made her just want to dip her entire head in a vat of burning wax, just so she wouldn’t have to hear him speak.
It was absolutely infuriating that they were both fairly good-looking. Assholes shouldn’t be allowed to be handsome. The universe should have some fairness
She snorted to herself, setting her coffee down on her desk and pulling out her laptop. Who was she kidding- she knew better than anyone that the universe didn’t really believe in things like justice.
She heard the elevator ding from across the floor, obnoxiously loud like it always is, and watched Tobin and Leif walk in the room together, chatting and laughing and looking for all the world like they actually got the recommended six hours of sleep while simultaneously doing Pilates and eating things like quinoa, and protein shakes, and maybe even salad.
She hated them both. She hated them so bad.
“What’s up, ginger snap?” Tobin smirked as he passed her desk, looking horrifyingly hyper.
“Absolutely not,” she responded without even bothering to think about it. She was too tired to think. Everything was awful.
“It’s a term of endearment, red.”
“You’re a term of endearment,” she shot back, too focused on her coffee to bother coming up with anything clever.
“She got you there, babe,” Leif said absently from his desk, already set up for work. Leif was her new favorite. Out of the two of them. Let’s not go crazy.
“She did not. Were you even paying attention?” Tobin glanced over at Zoey for a moment, like he was trying to figure something out, before turning back to Leif. “Babe.”
God, she would never understand those guys. Was that what guy-friendships were like? Were they being homophobic or were they just joking? Was Zoey overthinking this? She sighed for a moment before shrugging, going back to her coffee. It was too early to think at all.
It was beyond Zoey, how Max had convinced her to go to a bar with the team. Including Leif and Tobin. He had just started talking about team building, and then Joan had overheard and said it wasn’t the worst idea he had ever had, which was basically the equivalent of an excited squeal from anyone else, so really she had no choice. She had to do it. As a manager. For work.
It helped that Max had a really cute smile when she finally agreed, but that was neither here nor there.
So they were all sitting at a table, eating potato skins and drinking semi-okay tasting vodka, trying desperately to talk about anything other than work and mostly succeeding.
Max was saying something about Ant-Man and physics and chemical-whatever, but her gaze was caught on Leif and Tobin, sat together and a little apart from everyone else. Were they lonely? Should she reach out and invite them into the comic book discussion?
She watched as Leif put his hand on Tobin’s shoulder, meeting his eyes inquisitively and smiling broadly when Tobin nodded. She hadn’t ever seen him smile like that before.
An hour or so later, she looked over to see Tobin and Leif leaning heavily on each other. The glasses in front of them were full, but Zoey wasn’t so dumb to think that meant they hadn’t drank any- she wondered how many rounds they’d both had.
She nudged Max in the ribs, nodding over to the two of them, murmuring to each other something nobody else could hear.
“Huh,” said Max. “Who knew they were affectionate drunks?”
“Yeah,” Zoey said, and nudged her leg a little closer to Max’s under the table. “Who knew?”
It was an hour after lunch and everyone on Zoey’s team was finally, for once, actually working and in the zone and doing things. She might cry from joy. Or exhaustion. Or both.
And then the elevator dinged, loud and piercing. Like a church bell at a funeral. Or an alarm clock. Or something else equally bad. That elevator ding was a harbinger of nothing but bad news. Zoey might break down right then and there.
She looked up to see who was there, about to ask what they needed, but all that came out of her mouth was a strangled “Gyuah?”
The pimpled delivery boy stood awkwardly, arms full with the biggest arrangement of flowers Zoey had ever seen. And her mom was a landscaper. It was honestly the most hideous thing she had ever seen, a mess of roses and sunflowers and daisies and a million other species in a million different colors.
It was also about the size of a very large mini-fridge. A small-fridge, if she may.
The boy shuffled on his feet. Yikes. “Who here is Life Donnelly?” he asked in his high, cracking voice.
“It’s- it’s Leif,” Leif said, sounding somewhat stunned. All eyes turned to him, blushing fire-engine red all the way to the tips of his ears.
“Right,” said the delivery boy, sounding wholly apathetic. He winded his way through the desks to drop the vase of flowers off on an overwhelmed Leif’s desk. “There’s a card. Have a good day.”
“Right. Uh. You too?” Leif said. the boy was already gone.
Everyone was silent for a split second. Then there was chaos.
“What’s the note say, what’s the note say, what’s the note say?” someone was asking over and over, and Mike was definitely taking pictures for blackmail purposes, and Zoey hated to say it but she was curious too.
“Guys,” she said in her manager voice, which needed work but was still enough to cut through all the yammering. Everyone was quiet for a moment. She smiled at them, then at Leif. “Well, what does the note say?”
“Yeah, Leif,” Tobin cut in, sounding just short of sly, “what does the note say?”
Leif cleared his throat once, twice, three times, then quickly plucked the card out of the arrangement and opened it up.
“‘Love of my life,’” he started, before flushing again, unable to keep reading. Someone wolf whistled.
“For Christ’s sake, Leif. If you can’t read it, I will.” Tobin smirked, grabbing the card before dramatically reopening the card with a flourish.
“‘Love of my life,’” he began, “‘I wasn’t sure what flowers are your favorite, so I got them all. I know you hate people at work knowing about our relationship because it’s embarrassing, but I’m kind of an asshole. I love you more than flowers can convey.’” Tobin blinked twice. He had a look on his face Zoey had never seen before, and had no hope of decoding. “There’s no name, so…” he set the card down on Leif’s desk, reaching around him.
Leif was beaming, clearly just as mortified as he was enamored. Zoey couldn’t help but glance at Max, who looked more confused than anything else. Her eyes traced his jawline.
“Wait,” Max said, breaking the quiet, “you're dating someone?”
Zoey was never going to get them back to work.
“Uh. Yeah?” Leif finally said, clearly wishing he could crawl beneath his desk and stay there. His left hand was absentmindedly tracing the petals of one of the peonies. It was almost sweet. Zoey decided to take pity on him.
“Okay, everyone, back to work.”
“Hey, Leif, can you stay late tonight to work on that timeline we need?” Joan asked as she walked out of her office.
“Actually, Joan, I’m sorry but I can’t tonight.”
Zoey looked up, astonished, and saw most of her coworkers do the same. Tobin didn’t, just paused and smiled down at his keyboard for a second before continuing to type.
“I’m sorry, maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Joan said, slower this time, dangerous. “Leif, you need to work late tonight.”
Leif looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, smiling painfully. Zoey winced in sympathy. “I understand, but I can’t. It’s my anniversary.”
Joan squinted. So did everyone else, really. “I don’t think you realize how little I care.”
Leif smile strained even more, paper thin. “ I’m not staying late tonight. I’ll use my vacation hours if I need to. This is important to me.”
Zoey’s eyes bounced back and forth between them like she was watching a ping pong match.
“To be clear,” Joan said, “You’re prioritizing your personal life over the launch of our product? The one that needs all hands on deck. The one that launches in two months. That product?”
Leif looked terrified, and also the most confident Zoey had ever seen him. “My relationship is the most important thing to me.”
Joan stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Leif’s hands were shaking minutely. Joan waited a couple seconds longer, then nodded slowly, walking back into her office and closing the door behind her.
All the breath left Leif in a big whoosh, and his shoulders sagged like a popped balloon. Tobin was immediately out of his chair and by his side, saying something in his ear that made him smile. Tobin poked Leif’s hands until they stopped shaking, and then smiled big and happy at him until Leif couldn’t help but smile back, fragile but real.
Zoey was kind enough to pretend not to notice. She’s had enough of those types of moments with Max to realize that some things should be kept private between friends.
It was another late night at work, but at least this time Zoey wasn’t the only one. Maybe it was mean to think, but she was happy that her whole team had been kept longer to work on the project, not just her.
It got a little lonely when it was just her on the floor.
It was already ten, and everyone was exhausted. Zoey’s makeup had come off twenty minutes after normal closing time, and by seven thirty she had changed into the sweat pants she kept stored in her desk at this point. Max’s hair was soaking wet from when he poured water on his face to try to wake himself up (unsuccessfully), and Tobin had ditched his color-blocked hoodie two hours ago.
Perhaps most concernedly, Leif was asleep at his desk for the third time that night.
“Is he okay?” Zoey finally burst out, staring at Leif’s rising and falling back. “I mean, I’m tired too, but it’s still pretty early.”
Tobin sighed, turning to look at Leif too. “He didn’t get much sleep last night. We- he was gonna make it up tonight but-“ he shrugged “-Joan.”
The silence stretched on. Just before it got awkward, Tobin stood up. “I’m going on a coffee run.”
Max squinted at him, untrusting.
“We have coffee here,” Zoey said, confused.
Tobin shrugged. “Leif likes the stuff from ‘I Like You A Latte’. I’m already going, so what do people want?”
Had Zoey entered an alternate universe? If she had, she wasn’t complaining. “Anything with caffeine, please.”
“Black coffee,” Max said, clearly too tired to muster up confusion.
When Tobin showed up thirty minutes later with everyone’s coffee order somehow balanced in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other, Zoey was so thankful she almost forgot to be scared he had poisoned her coffee. But when she saw Tobin softly shake Leif awake, she figured it was fine. They were all too tired to do anything nefarious.
She took a bite of her bear claw and moaned. Even if Tobin had laced it- what a way to go.
Zoey was so, so glad to be at another launch party. She’d admit, when she heard SPRQ was hoping on the AI train, she was skeptical. But Jade turned out really well, and she couldn’t be happier to have Mo come DJ again.
When Mo got there, he immediately told Zoey she had to introduce him to her coworkers.
“Girl, as much as I love the constant dilemma of your choice between Dreamboat Simon and Sweetie Max, I think at this point we both know who you’re gonna choose. I need more drama. Intrigue.”
“I mean,” Zoey said, already leading Mo to her team’s desks, “You probably know way too much personal information about all of them for this not to be weird, but okay.” They got to the desks where, thankfully, everyone was still working on the last minute problems. Not that it was good that there were last minute problems, but- well.
Her coworkers looked up when they heard two pairs of footsteps and Zoey smiled at them. “Guys, this is my friend Mo. Mo’s gonna be DJ-ing the launch tomorrow. Mo, this is my team.”
This was so awkward. Her worlds were colliding. Although honestly, when she looked around, it seemed like the only one uncomfortable was her. Mo was already talking to Tobin about music (huh) while Leif sort of just stood there and listened, nodding occasionally and laughing at all the right moments.
Then, clear as a bell, Zoey heard Mo say “you two are such a cute couple!”
Time stopped.
“Uhm. What?” Max said, loud, interrupting Mo.
“What?” Mo asked back.
“Tobin and Leif aren’t dating,” Zoey supplied.
Tobin looked at Leif. Leif looked at Tobin. Then they both started laughing, hard.
Everyone was looking at everyone, perplexed and concerned and some other emotion, something between embarrassed and amused, like they thought they were in on a joke, but weren’t entirely sure.
Eventually Tobin and Leif stopped laughing and Tobin said, “Actually, me and Leif have been dating for coming up two and a half years now.”
Zoey felt her eyes widen. Max dropped his pen, and almost his laptop. Mo started laughing, now.
Leif grinned too, surprised. “We thought you all knew?”
“How would we know?” Zoey asked, probably somewhat shrilly.
“We call each other ‘babe’,” said Tobin. “We’re constantly touching.”
“Whenever one of us can’t work late, neither can the other. Tobin went on a coffee run for me,” Leif added.
“Shut up,” Tobin said, pink. “Like you didn’t love the flowers.”
“Oh my god, the flowers were from you?”
“Max, we’ve been dating for two and a half years, yes the flowers were from me.”
Leif smiled and wrapped his arm around Tobin’s waist. In hindsight, they really were obvious. “I thought you guys were supposed to be geniuses or something? Mo figured it out in three minutes.”
“That’s because I’m amazing, honey,” Mo said. “And as absolutely hilarious as this is, I do need to set up for my real, paying job right around now. Bye-bye, Zozo.” Mo waved, still laughing quietly to himself.
Everyone stood for second, taking it all in.
“Hey,” Tobin finally said, turning to Lief, “does this mean we can make out at work now?”
Title from Mary’s Song by Taylor Swift :)
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colourthestarts · 5 years
Text
5 Things I Noticed About You
1.      You were actually not that polite.
Well it wasn’t that you suddenly became rude, but he sure as hell didn’t expect the girl at the back of the class who just simply minded her own business to snap at that third year girl who spend too much time worshipping herself. If he remembered correctly the words were “Listen up hairball. Either shut the fuck up or get lost cause Jesus I cannot listen to the same story again. You guys brake up and then get back together. Or you cry and end up back together. Stop being an idiot and invest time in yourself instead of that asshole.”. He had to admit the deadpan that was given with the speech added to the charm.
That time he genuinely thought that the snap was a fluke and you were stressed for exams or tired from preparation for them. But then he heard you chat with your friends on the rooftop when he wanted some alone time.
“Suck it up. Life isn’t fair and whatever. That’s a well shit excuse why you failed. We both know that you were lazing around instead of studying so don’t complain for getting the grades that you get. Stop whining and pick yourself together while you have time.”
 2.      You liked coffee.
That knowledge was gained by a coincidence. Somehow he was standing in a line behind you with his friends, while you were with yours. He did notice your casual style was very chill. Jeans, top, a jacket and a scarf that covered your lovely neck and the backpack with cherries on it. You looked cool. But taking that aside,who wants a triple expresso mid-day? Let alone keep coming back for the same order another three times within an hour. He really wanted to ask why so much coffee. Were you tired? Stressed? Did you just have shit day and needed some sort of comfort? He would gladly do that for you anytime you needed.
Few days later he was still curious with your coffee obsession when he noticed just how many coffee flavour things you liked. Eventually he decided to ask. Well not you, but your friend. He had no guts to talk to you. Yet. The reply was slightly weird just by the expression of her friends face.
“She says it tastes good. But I think that it helps her to stay calm.”
3.      A friend for comfort
Maybe the most surprising part was that you were good at comforting people. It was about a month later after a long match when he and Kenma were passing a park that he saw you and your friend sitting on the swings. While you held a box of tissues the friend was crying her eyes out.
“Do you want to go home and cry there?”
“No”
“My home?”
“No”
“Wanna eat?”
“No! Why do you keep asking questions?!” The friend replied irritated.
“Well you’re crying your life out and frankly I don’t know what to do” You replied calmly, but it only infuriated her.
“I need you to care! To comfort me! Be a friend, be on my side!”
“Of course I’m on your side. And you are my friend. But I don’t know how to help you. You need to cry? Cry I’ll stay as long as you need. Want me to go yell or beat him up? Fine I’ll do that. Buy you sweets or take a train and go somewhere far away. Okay we’ll do that. But I need to know what you want.”
The friend saw how serious she was and so did Kuroo. For a quick look it would seem as she was annoyed by this whole situation. But the tight grip on the swing chain and the look in her eyes showed that she was there for her. A good minute of silence passed and then her friend stood up to pick up her bag.
“Are your parents home?”
“No, working till next week.”
“Firstly you can’t say I told you so about this. I know you didn’t like him, but just don’t. And I’m staying at yours and we gonna get drunk and eat ice cream and I’ll cry a lot and you have to let me.”
“Okay” You replied with a smile and got up to get your own bag and catching up with your friend who was already walking away.
“You like her.” Kenma stated as he walked of.
Kuroo couldn’t deny.
4.      Loyal
Few days after the incident in park, the teachers decided another project was to be done in pairs. The friend and now her ex-boyfriend were paired together and so were you and Kuroo, but after few hours you convinced the teacher to pair you with the ex instead. Kuroo wasn’t too pleased, missing his opportunity to talk to you, but he couldn’t complain. Your friend was polite and did her work so there were no issues and she said was the same with your pair. A while later when the teacher said that the grades were announced at the board outside in the hall Kuroo and the friend went to check it, but before turning the corner Kuroo was dragged backwards. As he was just about to ask what was wrong he could hear a conversation going.
“I’d say we make a pretty good team don’t you think?” the ex smoothly stated. But the answer was even smoother.
“We are not a team. Mika and I are a team. I noticed how you look back at her and don’t even think of hurting her more. She is just starting to get happy and if you mess with that I will mess with you and make it a personal goal to make your life as difficult as possible. So unless there is a school related topic I suggest you mind your own business, sit back and enjoy your ride to hell asshole.”
Kuroo saw that Mika was now grinning.
“Sorry. I told her to be nice to him but this – this I do not mind at all!”
5.      Quick to isolate herself
From then on Kuroo and Mika became pretty good friends. Not too close, but they chatted once in a while. Which is why he noticed that Mika and her did not always hang out together. After few of those moments after classes finished and before everyone went to their clubs he asked if they had a fight to which she answered:
“What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Well you haven’t been hanging out much…” To which Mika replied with a frown but waved the comment of.
“We’re good. She… she’s just… sometimes she… Okay, look she’s not been feeling well these days.”
“She’s ill?”
“No, she just needs space. And when she’s good she comes back.” Then caught Kuroo of guard by saying. “Don’t try to confess your love or whatever when she’s in this state.”
“Wha- I don’t know what you mean.” Kuroo tried to brush off but clearly he wasn’t good at hiding his interests.
“Cut it out man. She might be oblivious but I’m not when you keep staring at her like a stalker or something.”
“Ahhh… not my intention.” Kuroo was now very embarrassingly blushing while avoiding eye contact with Mika but still asked. “…does she know?”
“Ha hell no. She’s about aware of this stuff as a brick wall. But, I’ll give you advice considering that you can’t even tell what she can tell. She gets scared off easily so don’t just do what guys do and be like ‘I like you’ she’ll be confused and avoid you until graduation from awkwardness.” Wow Kuroo’s possible plan just got gutted in 15 seconds. “Befriend her instead and see how it goes from there.”
“How do- we have no common interests?”
“She sucks at chemistry. Like passes it well but she honestly does not understand it at all and just memorizes it. I’ll invite you and Kenma to hangout and it can go from there. But like I said not now. She needs time to herself so be patient with her.”
Kuroo had to confess. He was so confused in this conversation. Mika knew and even gave advice. Good advice.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because you are actually not that bad. I mean before the whole project I thought that you’re an ass and full of yourself.” Before Kuroo could protest Mika cut him off “But you’re friends with Kenma and he’s like supper chill but doesn’t take nonsense. Plus you’re a dork and a nerd.” Kuroo went back to blushing cause Mika’s digs did not stop there “Like seriously you haven’t even talked to her properly. It’s super amusing.”
“What’s amusing?” Of course she had to appear at this point. Curse the universe. But thankfully, Mika stepped in for godsmacked Kuroo.
“Ohh just that my ex failed to give in his assignment”
“Wow that is bitter even for you Mika.”
“Um-excuse me. I can gloat in private.” Mike defended with a grin.
“Kuroo is not exactly private, but whatever. I was just send by your captain to get your ass in for practice.” Then she added to Kuroo. “Aren’t you supposed to also go to volleyball? I guess being a captain just lets you be late.”
“Don’t be like that! Bye Kuroo I’ll let you know more later.” Mika said when she pushed her friend out the door. Kuroo managed to respond normally and say his goodbyes.
On his way to volleyball practice Kuroo could tell the difference. Normally she was calm and collected, a bit sarcastic but kind and never bothered people. But even from this small conversation he saw that she did not want to be there. She really looked she couldn’t be bothered at all by anything. That made Kuroo feel weird, but he decided to take Mika’s advice and leave her by.
On the other hand, he couldn’t ignore the opportunity to feel somewhat accomplished. She knew who he was and that he played volleyball. That was a start.
Two days later Mika send Kuroo a text.
16:48 She’s back. Gonna drag her to a coffee shop on Thursday so make sure you and Kenma are free. You’re welcome.
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lady-olive-oil · 5 years
Text
Work Out: Chapter 5
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A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! It took me a while to get this out but it’s here. I’ll be on vacation next week and so I’ll be writing just not updating per-say. If you or anyone has experienced a loss of a child or family member, and you want to talk about it my inbox is always open. It’s chapter 5. That means it’s time for another project to be started. I have 4 started already and I am going to pick which one i like best to start typing chapters for. Which will most likely be Chris Evans x Roxie in So Into You. There’s one line in here that I asked to use from my good sis @madamslayyy and it’s in here. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future projects.
Warnings; child death, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), language
Word Count: 5,029 [my village knows this is was gonna be long]
Lil Nasties: @maddiestundentwritergaines || @themyscxiras || @crushed-pink-petals || @honeychicana || @dc41896 || @chaneajoyyy || @jojolu || @titty-teetee || @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove || @ljstraightnochaser || @mimigemrose || @fumbling-fanfics || @amelatonin || @screamingdrago || @breddiefrooks || @ellixthea || @designerwriterchic || @destinio1
_____________
It was 3 am, dark and eerily quiet. Only the sound of my Sunter oscillating floor fan being on, and Florian’s occasionally snoring, could be heard. He took my offer on staying at my condo, instead of a hotel when he’d come to New York. Missing him from going back and forth from here to Munich, Germany, did some things to me. I never felt like this in a while about someone.
Only thing I could see in the dark from the moon, peaking through the window shades, was my big brown bear with an ‘I Wuv You’ pillow attached to it. Florian has shipped it to me from visiting his family.
He’s done something to brighten up my life, that I didn’t think needed to be brighten up. I couldn’t sleep. I could never sleep around 3 am and there’s a reason for that.
It had been a couple months or so, nearly in March now with the spring weather, and things were starting to look up a bit. That is until the gut wrenching moments with Jake happened. The bad memories came flooding back and the nightmares became worse, and worse. It came at least once or twice a month, but now they’re more frequent.
Around this same time I’d have the same recurring nightmare: me losing my baby girl at just 16 weeks. I let the dream play out this time. Normally I’d wake up in different scenes.
I was at work with a client and my phone rang to a news flash. Typical news about politics, and crazy folks. At the time time Jake and I weren’t on speaking terms due to his infidelity. I went home that day, around noon, to an infuriated Jake.
“Where the hell have you been?!” He yelled in my face,’I could smell the alcohol on his breath. This wasn’t the first time I say him this frustrated.
This time it was his job at a restaurant; he got fired, again. He always blames me for his misfortunes when I’ve been holding him up. I’ve been there for him time and time again.
“At work. Where else would a 3 ½ month pregnant lady be? I have bills to pay Jacob, and a baby to feed soon.” Apparently he didn’t like the hint of attitude in my voice, because the next thing I knew I was being thrown against a wall with force.
The wind was knocked out of me; my throat was sore from screaming and he was in my face.
“You know where you need to be at all times. You are MINE, and no one else’s.”
“We’re separated remember? Or did you forget?! Hey out of my face and out of my house now.” I pushed passed him, on my way upstairs, till I felt an even more powerful force push me down. I had landed on my stomach, the pain was too much to bear.
I froze in place, crying and praying to the heavens, hoping that my little Angelique would be alright.
“Geneva? Oh my god, please come on baby.” Jake was frantic, picking me up and taking me to the car. Making our way to the hospital I was in too much shock to love around.
Several hours later of being in the room, the doctor gave em the final verdict. It was too much damage to be done for my baby. I was stunned. Too traumatized to even move. The doctor gave us some time to ourselves, after the procedure was done.
Jake reaches out to touch my hand and I draw back from him.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I seethed through my teeth, not even glancing in his general direction. I could tell he grew impatient with me, by the way he yanked my head to face him.
“If you weren’t so disobedient, we’d have a baby soon. But you just had to defy me and get hurt. I thought you loved me, Geneva.”
“I do. But you make- you’re blaming this on me? You’re blaming the death of our baby on me?!” My anger surfaced as my parents walked through the door.
Jake was faster than they were, because he tried to  choke me. His grip was too tight, my nails dig deep in his arms. Deep enough to draw blood. My dad was pulling him off, with my mother in tow. My vision grew dark, I couldn’t move again. All I could hear were my parents screaming for the doctors to come help. The nightmare ended.
I woke up screaming in the dark, causing Florian to wake up abruptly and be on the lookout. I felt bad for waking him up but I’m glad he did.
“Geneva? Is everything ok?” He held me close to his chest, as I cried in heavy sobs. I finally let the dream play out. I explained to him what my dream was, his rage about my ex increased ten fold.
Pulling me close to his chest even more, he mumbled something in German as she rocked me back and forth. He couldn’t fathom how any may would I ever lay his hands on a woman like that. Pregnant or not. He know his own mother would be livid if he went that route.
“I vow to this very day, he won’t come near you. I know you gave me the green light to rough him up, and I did, but I need full control Genevieve. I need to you give me full control, my love.” The sincerity in his voice was calming. It was as if he was sent from the gods to protect me. As he caressed my cheek, I kissed his hand on instinct, holding on to his hand.
Looking into his soft green eyes, the moonlight shining through the windowed curtains, making them glow with love. Upon resting my head on his, he snaked his arms around my waist.
“You made a promise to keep me safe and I believe you. So without question, I give you full control, Florian. Full, control.” Whispering against his lips, he smiled at me genuinely and held me close. He fell back against the fluffy pillows, taking me along with him. The still calmness made it easier for me to fall asleep next to him.
I think I’ll keep him a little while longer.
-The Next Day-
“Ain’t no way in hell! You can’t do that!”
“The hell I can’t. House rules cuzzo, house rules. Now draw your 4 and the color is red.”
“You ain’t right.”
Game night has been a tradition in my family for generations. To keep it alive, I had the crew come by my half finished apartment, along with the typical game night food. First game of the night was Uno. Not just any old game of Uno, it was Uno Flip. It brought out the worst in people but it was all in fun.
“Now she taught me this game last night, simply because it’s new, and even I knew she’d say ‘house rules.’ ” Florian was invited as well, why wouldn’t I invite the guy that I heard beat up my ex?
“You trained him well, sis. I like him.” Nefertiti, Winston’s girlfriend of 3 years, was always the insightful one of the group. She was always busy with her stylist job, but when she has time she comes back home and chill.
“Yeah but you still can’t do that. Cheater.” Mike mumbled under his breath, which earned him a smack upside his head by Johari.
My dog Dragon, my reddish-brown Pomsky, was asleep in his kennel in the laundry room. He loved it when Florian came over to visit, because he had someone big and strong to play with. He clearly loved the fact that I had someone too.
The vibes were perfect for a night in with no responsibilities. I was already out of the game so watching was always my forte. Joahri was looking at Florian and I, as I was snuggled into his side as he played the card game.
“So what are y’all exactly? Cause y’all for sure as hell, ain't friendship with benefits. Y’all emotions are too attached.” The question threw me off, because I started choking on my Seagram's Jamaican Me Crazy wine cooler. Johari was never one to hold back, and that’s what Mike loved about her.
Florian couldn’t help but chuckle and rub my back a little to calm me down.
“Uh well. We’ve just been hanging out lately. Enjoying each other’s company.” I looked to Florian to help.
“We like hanging out with each other. I enjoy her company and she enjoys mine. Why put a label on things?” He explained a bit further and the look on Jojo’s face was unwavering. She wasn’t falling for it at all. Heating the doorbell ring, we were saved by the bell.
“What he said, labels aren’t needed. Imma get the door.” What did I want? I wanted him but I couldn’t say it yet. Answering the door, Cynthia and John stepped in, along with Destiny and Ryan. Filling the room with more love.
Just by the look on Florian’s face and the tone of his voice from earlier, he seemed to want things to go further that what they were. I couldn’t tell.
Did I want things to go further? I’m still married to the asshole who won’t sign the papers. Maybe it is time for a new outlook on life.
-Florian’s POV-
Did I want Geneva to be mine? Did I want her to feel safe; secured, loved and wanted? Did I want her away from Jake anyway? Yes I did.
I didn’t want her to feel unwanted anymore. I can’t stand seeing her hurt anymore either. With all the stories I’ve heard about Jake, and how he’s mistreated her. I just knew I had to make things right for her.
While she was distracted with the girls in the kitchen, I had to ask the guys for some help with a very creative strategy.
“Guys, I need your help with something.” I was nervous to say the least. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I think it’s time I make my feelings known.
“What’s up? You need help asking Geneva to be your girl?” Mike went straight to the point.
“Oh you tryin to ask our sis to be your girl? This outta be good.” Ryan chuckled gently, glancing around the room real quick.
“Well since we’re playing games tonight, got anything in mind?” Winston asked curiously. I had never met Winston fully, just in brief passing with Mike at parties.
“How about scrabble? We each form a word for me ask, I’ll take the last word.” Letting the guys know my plan, they all were in agreement and helped set up the board.
The guys gathered the game up and set it up. I had a necklace in my hoodie pocket I was gonna give her tonight anyway. Now was the best time.
“What y’all up to?” Once I heard that angelic voice I had to move fast, giving every team their pieces.
“Just getting ready to play scrabble. We’re doing teams, so little mama come here.” The slight blush on her caused the whole group to chuckle, as I placed her on my lap on the floor.
“Team scrabble? Interesting. Alright I’ll play.”
-Geneva’s POV-
The game went on for about an hour or so. My ass was getting sore from sitting so long, so I had to get up to so I could stretch. Placing a kiss on Florian’s head, I made sure to give him some love.
“Y’all need anything while I’m up?” Making my way to the kitchen, I grabbed the empty plates and cups. Turning up the volume on the speaker a bit.
“A few beers and Seagrams. I’ll come with ya.” Johari got up to help me while the others continued to play the game.
“So what’s up with you and Florian? Foreal sis come on now. No games, no shade.” Leaning against the counter, sighed gently with a smile.
“I like him. We mesh well together and he’s great company. I do kinda wanna date him though, it’s only fair since Jake moves on.” I started biting my lip thinking of all the moments Florian and I have shared over the last few months.
“You should! It’s your time now. Plus he sounds like a keeper.” Johari was glancing back into the game from for some reason.
“Gege! Come on it’s your turn with Florian!”
“Coming! He is. We should get back to the game.” Grabbing the bottles, making our way back to the game, I snuggled back in Florian’s lap. He moved to the couch this time.
For some reason the room was more mellow than normal, and the girls were giddy. What was going on?
“Alright. Mike went; Winston went next, Ryan and John. Now it’s my turn.” Florian explained and kissed my cheek. I was too preoccupied with my phone.
My mom had texted me about graduation, and when it was. I kept forgetting to let the family know about the date and time. Florian took his turn and tapped my thigh to let me know.
“Alright guys we are all out of tiles. I’ll tally up the scores.” Grabbing the notepad and pen, I glanced at the board once or twice. I saw something and I didn’t know if I was reading it right.
The group was minding their own business, till I got their attention by reading everything out loud.
“ ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ How did y’all- oh my god.” I immediately looked at Florian with tearful eyes and the group erupting in cheers.
“Couldn’t think of a better way to ask, with the blessing of your friends of course, and Mike. So Geneva, will you?” Florian’s soft voice pulled me in, as the sounds hushed around us.
All I could focus on was him and him alone. Holding his face in my hands; taking in his after rain scent and resting my forehead on his I knew I was home. With him I was always home.
“Yes. I’ll be your girl, Florian.” Kissing him with everything in me, he held me close to his hard body but he felt soft in my hands.
“Ahem. Y’all we got others games to play.” Mike cleared his throat, before having to pulling us apart.
“Sorry. Oh Geneva, turn around real quick.”
I did as instructed and felt cold metal hit my neck. Glancing down, I noticed my zodiac sign around my neck, shining in the light of the ceiling fan. He clamped it shut and turned me back around.
“Perfect fit. Alright now, let’s play.” Kissing me gently, Florian busted out Jenga.
-3 games and yelling matches later-
It’s an intense game of Jenga going on. It was my turn to go, and I was nervous as hell.
“Ok babe. You got this. Don’t be nervous.” A little encouragement from the new boo, made it even worse.
Pulling the block from middle, watching the tower lean for he left I got nervous and it all came tumbling down.
“In that rubble, lies our relationship.” The mocking hey joking tone of his voice, caused me to smile.
“Ok Kyle.” Patting his cheek gently, I was gifted with a gorgeous smile that he is never afraid to show. The smile that would put the stars on Egypt to shame.
His type of smile though, was like no other. His smile was so bright and happy; full of life and wonder. Like a kid in a candy store, or a kid on Christmas Day. His smile was truly contagious.
John nodded towards Florian, to grab his attention. “Hey Florian can I ask you something?”
“Sure. What’s up?” Draping his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer.
“Seeing as though Jake fucked up everything for himself, I want you to be one of my groomsmen. I see how well you’ve been treating Geneva and I think you should walk down the aisle with her. You’ve gained a friend in me.” He paused a bit and did the typical bro handshake with him.
“You’ve gained a brother from Ryan and I. Welcome to the group man.”
The look on his face was priceless and full of pure excitement. He couldn’t have been happier to be included.
“I’d be honored John. I’d love to walk with Geneva.” I felt his lips on my forehead, making my body feel all all warm and inviting.
“Game over let’s do something else. Mortal Kombat anyone?” Breaking my concentration wasn’t ever easy, but Florian managed to do so.
“Sure. I’ll play. Not sure how to do so, but I can always learn from a great teacher.” Sending a wink in his direction, I grabbed the other controller for the PS4 and got into position so her could “teach me” how to play.
Everyone else was in their zone, minding their own business, as Florian was giving me the rundown on the game. Little did he know, my two brothers taught me how to play whenever I’d come home on the weekends from college. They prepared me for this moment.
“Ready, draga?”
“Bring it.”
Fifteen minutes into the the game, he was kicking my ass in both matches. Time to kick it into high gear. The gag is, I was just messing with him.
“I’m gonna change my character real quick. If that’s ok with you?” The gentle tone of my voice made that precious smile come back.
He shrugged. “That’s fine with me baby girl.”
Going through the character list, tuning out everything around me, I focused on my strategy. I found the right character.
“Jade. Let’s do this baby.” Pressing start on the controller, I maneuvered in my spot on the couch and started to annihilate Florian in this game.
“What the hell…” he was in shock and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Finish him!” The tv yelled through the Sony speakers, placed around the 75” flat screen.
With a sly smirk, and a burst of energy to leap up to squat on the couch, I caught the attention of our friends and they gathered around.
Michael got too excited, stomping his feet against the hardwood. “She’s gonna beat you bro.”
“Not by a long shot.” Florian gritted through his teeth, maneuvering the buttons on the controller.
“Final kill shot…”
“Nice try babe.” With one final move, Jade had sliced Raiden’s head clean off and stood proud with her staff.
“Fatality!” The room went silent, Florian dropped his controller in defeat and was wide eyed.
“How in the hell? I just taught you 5 min ago?” He looked at me in utter disarray.
I chuckled a bit. “No you didn’t.”
“Uh were you paying attention when I taught you earlier?” He was in straight disbelief and I was living for it.
“I was. But you forgot that I have two brothers that play this on the daily baby. I faked it, unlike other things.” Sending a wink in his direction, I got up to clean the rest of the plates.
As the party died down, our friends left for the night, I was left cleaning and Florian was messing with something in the house.
Next thing I know, I hear some Michael Jackson music and the adrenaline kicked in with me. Grooving to the beat to past the time, I felt his strong hands on my hips.
“Oh so I take it you’re feeling better after getting crushed?”
“You wound me Printesa. You wound me.”
Placing a kiss on his cheek, I moved my hips along with his to the funky beat of Pretty Young Thing. Truth be told he’s the first person I’ve danced with in my house. I never got to do a lot of things with Jake because he’d always be “busy” with work and it affected our relationship a lot.
I cherish the little moments I do get with Florian. When he’s away I find something to do, but it makes it all worth it in the end, when we meet back up in my hometown. The song shifted to a real old song that brought back memories and just felt right.
“Do you remember, when we fell in love. We were so young and innocent then.” He sung in my ear so elegantly, as he swayed with me in solitude and confinement.
I couldn’t help but sing back to him, doing a little spin turn, to have my back pressed against his chest.
“Do you remember, how it all began. It’s just seemed like heaven, so why did it then.”
His strong arms that were wrapped around me just right. I felt safe and secured in his embrace, I never wanted to leave. We continued to sing the song to each other, and gravity took us both towards my bedroom.
There was a glowing light illuminating from my room. The closer I got, the more the room came in visual and it was sight to behold.
It seems that when I was cleaning, he was setting this all up for us the whole time. I felt the tears on the edge of my eyes, one shed as I held my face together. Turning towards him I sniffled.
“Florian. What is all this for?”
He held my hand and guided me towards the grand king sized bed, that took up a good portion of space in the master bedroom. This condo was perfect in every way and I still have yet to call it my own.
“Well seeing as though we just started dating a few hours ago, 6 to be exact, I thought we’d consummate our relationship. By making love to my lady love.” We both looked into the mirror I had installed and just took in each other’s reflections.
He truly listened to me. It was rare to find a good man that listened. I was going to enjoy this by any means necessary. Changing the playlist to smooth jams, I faced him fully.
“You do listen to me. I’m glad you do.” I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer.
The music pulled us and guided us like a magnet. I took his black v-neck shirt off first, tracing the hard muscles with my nails with a featherlight touch. Our foreheads were touching, his hands were under the grey racerback I was wearing. My skin was on fire, but I loved every second of it.
Our lips were ghosting one another’s, a teasing game that only could be won by one. He gave in and smashed his lips against mine. Our lips moving in synchronization to the rhythm of our heartbeats, drawing me closer to him.
He broke the kiss for a split second, analyzing the room once again.
“Don’t need us both being poked with electric candles, now do we?” He set all the plastic candles on my dresser, then came back to me.
“No we don’t. But we do need less clothes.” Trying to be sexy, I slipped my tank top off. Only remaining clothing were my shorts; white lace bra and matching undies to hide my heated desire for the man standing in front of me.
I took it upon myself to slide off his basketball shorts, eyeing the man in front of me in all his naked glory.
“No boxers or briefs huh? You were thinking of getting lucky today weren’t you?” Kissing his chest softly, my hands gripped onto his ass tightly, gaining a moan from him.
In a blink of an eye, he yanks the rest of my clothes off, throws them somewhere in the room and made me jump up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, to continue the kiss, he laid us both on the bed.
“You’re the first woman I’ve ever gotten intimate with on this level. Face to face, pure and raw intensity. Just close.” He whispered in my ear hotly, as his fingers dragged along my curves. Making the room seem hotter than it already was.
“So far, you’re doing everything right.” In one hand I held the back of his neck while the other, yanked him by his chain around his neck, back to down to kiss me. His tongue fought for dominance with my own, a shaky moan erupted through my body once again.
The movement of his hips against mine were orgasmic and sensual. His weight on top of me, felt so delicious. I trusted him enough to not use a condom this time versus all the other times. Who knew that kissing could get you off.
“Geneva, do we-”
“No. I trust you. Remember what I told you? I trust you.” Nodding in more confirmation, I brushed my hips another time to get him inside me. I knew for a fact that I was not about to go to work in the morning and I didn’t care.
Smiling up at him, deep into his green-hazel speckled eyes, I saw a man that shown me so much love these past few months. A man who really cares for me deeply; physically, mentally and spiritually.
“Then I guess we can.” He captures my lips with his once again, lacing our fingers together above my head in an exultant feeling all over. My body overheated; I felt him rut against me, as I squeezed his fingers tight.
He broke the kiss to let me know to fully relax. I did so, and felt my velvet walls being stretched deliciously by by his hardened dick. I moaned sharply, arching my back off the black sheets, and dragged my nails up and down his back. We came once again just off of us humping each other.
My legs went back around his hips and constricted him like a python, egging him on even more to go faster. Letting out mini yells of his name along with multiple phrases in Romanian and German. His hands gripped my thighs tight.
“Lil Mama, come here.” He sat back, pulling out of me. I felt an emptiness, craving for him to be back inside me. He pulled me on to his lap, I sunk back down on instinct. I could tell he was chasing his 3 orgasm with me, so this next one was about to be ruthless.
The temperature increased; his hands hot and heavy on my hips, helping me rotate up and down. Forward and back, this time going with the rhythm of the music. I held the back of his head, gripping for dear life, resting my head on his as I went faster.
“Ah ah- fucking shit! Right there. Oh come on daddy.” I whined digging my nails deeper into his shoulder, feeling my 3rd orgasm coming faster. He looked me dead in my eyes and spoke with such dominance.
“Don’t call me daddy unless you trying to make me one.” Once he growled that against my lips, I purred back at him and caught his tongue with my lips, sucking gently. His eyes went big at how frisky the move was. I pushed him on his back, squeezing his dick inside me again and closing my eyes tight at the feeling of him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes tight at the feeling.
I whispered against his lips, “If you play your cards right, maybe we can talk about kids. But I need a ring first.
“Only way I’d see it happening, baby girl.” One final kiss session, feeling the vibes again with one of my songs playing on my phone. Rolling my hips sinfully, leaning my head back and gripping my hair I gasped sharply.
“I’m so close…”
“I am too. Let go with me baby girl.” He leaned up, kissing my chest, sucking one of my nipples in his mouth and then moved his thumb against my clit. My orgasm erupted before his own.
I moved quick and fast to slide off him and take him in my mouth. He had to get off by the end of the night or I wouldn’t feel good about it. Tasting myself on his dick, made me wet all over again.
“Shit baby- goddamn.” He held the back of my head, I relaxed my jaw and used my tongue to my leverage. I had him whimpering like a little kid, and I loved it. Using one of my hands to get the rest of him in my mouth, I kissed his thighs a bit before going back at it.
He smacked my ass one good time, which made me moan around his throbbing dick. He released down my throat, I swallowed every drop and crawled back up his sweaty body. Kissing him gently, rubbing my nose with his.
“You smacked my ass like you own it.”
“I kinda do, draga. I kinda do.” He smirked at my gasp, as I hit him playfully.
Stretching a bit, I sat up and smiled at him.
“I trust you remember that ok?” I reminded him. He nodded sweetly and pulled me back down onto his chest. Which was heaving up and down a bit.
“Shower or sleep? Or both?” I traced shapes on his chest gently, hiking my leg over his.
“Both. I’ll even switch the sheets out. Plus I owe you in the morning.” Picking me up bridal style towards my master bathroom, I let out a sweet giggle.
“Definitely gonna need that cause I’m not into work tomorrow.” Loving the feel of the bow water on my body and my hair, I helped him wash his hair and he did mine.
After what seemed like hours, we were both dressed: the sheets were changed and the room was cooler. Falling asleep to his voice made it easier and the nightmares were gone.
“I could stay like this forever with you.” Is what I could’ve sworn I heard him say, but I was too deep into my sleep to pay attention. I couldn’t see myself with anyone else.
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silence-burns · 5 years
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Natural Enemies //part 4
Fandom: Suicide Squad (DC)
Summary: Based on: “Imagine Rick Flag inviting you to join the Suicide Squad.” by @thefandomimagine
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You felt way better in your old clothes, even though they obviously weren’t cleaned since you got caught. The prison diet was far from pleasant and it made you lose some weight, but as far as Flag could guess, you were still physically in shape. He had no doubts about your skills, not after what you showed him.
You took a deep breath once you stepped out of the prison walls, the guards still watching you closely. Flag didn’t rush you, it was the first time you were out in months. It was hard to read your expression - all Flag noticed was the way you eyed the escort and him. You didn’t wait for any orders, going straight to the helicopter. The rotor blades started, pushing the dust and old leaves off the ground to swirl in circles.
Flag recognized a cold shoulder when one was meant for him. You were angry and had every right to be.
“All clear, sir!” reported one of his people, a soldier named Mike. They’ve been thrown on missions together for five years now and worked well together.
“Copy that.”
Flag closed the door behind himself, sitting opposite to you. Inside, the deep howling of the machine seemed a little less deafening, but was still uncomfortable. Gaining altitude, the windows absorbed your attention. The rain blurred the outlines of Belle Reve prison, but Flag was sure you could still recognize most buildings. He got curious if you would use that knowledge once you were put back there.
When the island was just a little spot on the horizon and you still didn’t pay any attention to him, it became hard to ignore you were still mad. He shouldn’t care that much, but didn’t want to ruin the mission. After all, it required working cooperation, and moods could make it harder. And maybe, just maybe, deep inside Flag felt a little bad. He hated to have a thorn in his side.
“You know it was a test,” he finally broke the silence, out-shouting the noise.
You must have heard him, but he got no reaction.
“I had to find what you’d do,” he continued. “How prone you are to violence.”
“I’ll be more if you don’t stop chit-chatting me,” he finally earned an icy cold look from you.
“I want to make things clear. There’s no need to use that venom.”
“Maybe you’ll choke at last.”
“Venom doesn’t work that way.”
“Do you want to try mine?”
Flag slowly counted to ten backwards. It didn’t help. It never did and yet he still tried it from time to time. Especially around such annoying people - he seemed to be surrounded by them lately.
“I won’t talk about this anymore. I just needed to be sure.”
“ I already gave you my word.”
“ The word of mercenary?” Flag laughed bitterly. “Please…”
“Maybe words and promises don’t matter to you, colonel, but I never break mine. Now, do you want something from me before you set me on your enemies?”
It wasn’t perfect, but at least he got you talking.
“In about two hours we’ll meet the rest of the team. We’ll drive to the place we need to infiltrate and capture the owner alive.”
“Is this where I should ask what’s the issue a team of grown men couldn’t handle?” you raised an eyebrow.
“The owner is a scientist. He used to work for the government, but his projects have been shut down a few years ago. He didn’t like that much, so he continued them off the radar, in his mansion. They are the problems.”
“Monsters?”
“Beings immune to death by any methods we’ve tried so far. The government could nuke the place, but we need Santino alive, he needs to answer a few questions.”
“I love how you short-cut things, colonel. You should write poetry,” you sighed with amusement.
Flag frowned. “Any problems?”
“Absolutely none. I just deeply admire how you avoided to admit that the gov is a greedy bitch and wants Santino’s experiments exclusively, before any other party gets curious about the immortal soldiers.”
The noise in the cabin didn’t change, but both of you instantly felt the tension in the small space, as if taking a deeper breath could break the last illusions of balance.
You’ve studied Flag’s face. It was obvious you were right. Should you have kept it to yourself? Probably. Did seeing his shocked and infuriated face make up for his behaviour at the shooting range? Definitely.
Flag wanted to punch you. Or himself maybe, he wasn’t sure. The tactics of telling you as little as possible proved to be a complete failure, both now and back at the prison. Even Waller’s anger once she finds out you guessed everything wasn’t as bad as seeing you smirking right in front of him, with cold satisfaction after repaying him.
“Alright. Now we’re even,” he nodded, surprisingly amused.
“Are you sure?” you asked with fake innocence, clearly pleased with how much you played him.
“We better be. I just want to close this mission and free myself from you.”
“Same.”
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I’ve completely gotten lost. Aimlessly sidetracked.
This is my lover
This is my person. The love of my life. The place where my heart lives.
The one I would marry with paper rings, every single time. The one I let get away once, but know that in the end it’s a fight we are gunna win.
I’d move mountains, spin the world the other way, cross oceans for this man. I’ve loved him for half my life. From the very first time our eyes locked. This love came back to me.
August 25, 2020 update Illicit affairs 
part one: Mike
Do you ever stop to think about how your choices and decisions ricochet and impact others unsuspectingly? For me... I had a love. I had two children with this man of mine. We rarely fought, but when we did... it was always because exes of his with other motives wanted to “catch up,” for me, that was a hard line that no one should cross. I had been cheated on too many time to want to deal with those people, or be that person. Especially now that I had children, those were games that younger people should be playing if played at all. 
I remember one day you came home and wanted to tell me that you had just apparently realized that you were a smart ass, because Jen said so. This is something that was not new news to literally ANYONE who knows you. So you proceeded to tell me the story about how rude you were to another apprentice at work. & you were texting Jen about it. I asked why you even had her number? Because you were working together and you needed to call or text to tell others when or when not to stop. She was “one of the guys,” none of the men at work looked at her that way, you said. Plus, you added “she was trailer trash & I had nothing to worry about.” I voiced my opinion and said that she had no business texting you when you were not at work. 
I remember you graduation, and her barging her way between us all, while your entire family, the kids and I were standing in line. more specifically, she walked right between you and I... and your head turned to watch her walk away. The look on your face infuriated me. I almost slapped you. I almost made us all leave- fuck your graduation. You wouldn’t have done ANY OF THAT with out me... not with a child. Our house was ALWAYS clean, dinner was ALWAYS made, your laundry always done & folded away. One girl, one boy. It’s haunting to me how songs I heard as a 3rd grader that stuck with me like Dixie chics “He’s 2 and she’s 4, and you know they adore you... so how can I tell them that you’ve changed your mind?” haunted me for generations. Trains “one that’s 5 and one that’s 3, been 2 years since he left me.” whyyyy did those lyrics echo in my mind years and years before, foreshadowing exactly what was to come?
Christmas work party, same thing.. I saw you two talking across the room. You “just happened to bump into each other.” she’s a chain smoker, something you detest. You tell me stories about how one of the other guys at works gets blow jobs from her in the parking lot on lunch break, were you really telling me about what you two were doing, or were you just taking sloppy seconds? 
Look at this God forsaken mess that you made me!
the night before our son turned one, his first birthday party you were “at the gym” passed out in the parking lot. You were lying. you were cheating on me for over a year. After my father passed away. Finally telling me that my weight gain was a problem for you. But I didn’t see you helping me at all, you never took the kids for a few hours so I could go on a run, what did you do for me? 
That’s the thing about illicit affairs... stolen stares, they show their truth ONE single times. & they lie and they lie and they lie a million little times. Your new relationship is built upon a million little lies. If she cheats with you, she will cheat on you. And just so you know, as fast as he left me & his children he will leave you EVEN faster for the next skinny girl that comes along. If you haven’t noticed, it’s great and freeing to not have any “baggage’ holding you down. She fights you whenever the kids take time away from you. She fights you about me... still. To this day. foundation built on a million little lies. 
part 2: Adam
You know me. You’ve know me for years. We dated... we lost touch. We got back in touch, we kept in contact. Wished each other well when our lives took off with others. When our children were born. Nothing but love for each other, always. You found this video of this woman who was an artist... years before she had left the love of her life somewhere. She’s meeting with people and staring into their eyes for a minute. A million strangers, one minute at a time. Then she locks eyes with the lover that she lost all those years ago... and they lock eyes again- it was the most powerful and magical video and feeling that I have ever witnessed in my entire life. It’s the way we would lock eyes with each other oh so many years ago. You said you hoped that it would be our story. 
https://youtu.be/mEcqoqvlxPY
One night I received a call from you, after 5 plus years of not hearing from you. I thought someone must have died because you called repeatedly until I answered. At the time I was pregnant with my first child. It was actually the only night Mike and I had ever spent apart our entire relationship. timing... was it fate? You told me that you were sorry for how we ended. How you would tell your grandkids one day that the love of your life was me. A Californian girl that you were too stupid to not fight for. You told me that every night when you see the moon and the stars you think of me, and you wish and hope that I know and feel that you still love me, and pray that I think of you when I see the moon and stars, too. It was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to me. I remember wishing that every single girl in their life gets a phone call like that. You said “Bella, when you see the moon and stars, I want you to know that I’m looking at it too and thinking of you, and that no matter where you are in the world... know that I LOVE YOU with all my heart, and I will until my last breath.”
You were my best friend 3 states away; you were there for me when I was breaking up with Mike. You came to California to see me. You told me I was the love of your life; that you were already in contact with a lawyer to divorce Volde (short for Vodlemort) you told me all about how awful she was, not supportive. I tried to be the voice of reason. to coach you through different ways of communicating with her, to save your marriage. You said you did therapy and nothing changed. I told you that if I could go back in time, I wish that mike would have just been honest with me. If you’re not happy- say something. Before it’s too late. Before you cheat and take everything to the next level. You told me that you moved to the first floor- I saw your room. I saw the boxes,.. the text messages. We FaceTimed enough to me to feel like you weren’t lying to me about any of it. but 3 states away and both of us with kids- we were best friends and nothing more. what more could we be? 
You were the one who said that you wanted two years. Two years and you would be divorced and move out to California to be with me. My childhood best friend happened to move to the town next to yours... and she paid for me to come visit. I had no intentions of seeing you, of meeting up. But YOU made a point of ensuring that it would happen. I said lets meet for coffee. You asked me to meet you at a local soccer field, you wanted me to see where you grew up playing and where you would go when you missed me most. I agreed, but that we would go straight for coffee then lunch. You had nothing else to do for the day and asked if you could invite yourself over for BBQ and such. I didn’t think it would be a good idea, drinks and time alone with you would leave me too vulnerable. 
we get to the soccer field and we hugged for 17 minutes! and then you kissed me and told me how much you missed me. I asked what was the deal with you and volde, you said you got your own apartment with your brother since he divorced his wife. So I let that kiss lead to more. I let you in.. too easily.. I had no regrets and felt like everything that had led me to that point in time was an invisible string leading me back to you! 9/1/18, we saw each other for the next 3 consecutive days until I flew back home. I came to visit again not long after that. we were constantly on the phone, FaceTime, and texting. we spent hours just loving each other from near and far... Hours together just tied up under the sheets, hours on end with out going out to eat. hours just basking under the sun picnicking and cuddling near the river. 
I was in a full fledged long distance relationship, waiting for this man to tie up “his loose ends” until he would move here to be with me. We talked about everything, we talked ALL the time. So how I missed any warning signs is beyond me, and how you fooled me into be the OTHER woman is beyond me. Because you weren’t separated, you weren’t living in an apartment with your brother. That first day we reconnected, was your wedding anniversary! Who does that. I hated myself... for allowing anyone to ever make me that person that I have hated more than anything in the world. I would never ruin a family. I would never cheat with anyone. 
I never felt like I was stealing stares, or clandestine meetings. 
Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby. Look at this God forsaken mess that made me. You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with ANYONE ELSE. And you know damn well, that I would ruin myself a million little times. 
I would’ve lied for you. I would’ve protected you had you just be honest with me. But you made me out to be the bad person, you did that to not only me, but to your wife and your kids and for that... I will never forgive you. 
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ghostmartyr · 6 years
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I can't wrap my head around Zeke, so hope you can help (you've been awesome at explaining many questions I've asked). How do you go from "we are victims of your father, you've been brainwashed by him" then decide to work with the people you tried to wipe out entirely? I don't see how this is another Krueger enactment, because he killed people while acting as a full-blooded Marleyan, Zeke was on Paradis without any of Marley watching him. He could have initiated contact before shredding Erwin...
Aha, pressure’s on, huh? Glad to hear it, though. :)
I think the core of Zeke is that he wants this all to end. Decisively. He’s been abused by the concept of an Eldian Empire and Marley both. He hates war despite being a proactive participant in it.
By virtue of it existing, Zeke’s gone through a lot to forge his own identity, and I think it’s fair to say that makes him very dangerous. He isn’t dependent on an encouraging environment or allies for his development. We don’t know enough about his life post-Grisha to say that they didn’t help, but Zeke is a person whose function is the same in isolation as it is in company. The only influence on his actions is what he wants.
So, what he wants is for all of this to end, and to not be his father.
One of the earlier things we learn about Zeke is… this whole quote that I really can’t be bothered to segue neatly into:
“I’m sure that by the end, they’ll be sending every person inside those walls off on a suicide charge, from their elders to their children… They’ll go on saying that if they’re going to die anyway, they might as well die a proud death. It only shows how unimaginative and set in their ways they are. …The little fools.
[…] What’re you getting so worked up for? You’re not like your father, remember? You need to find joy in every little thing. Now let’s turn those soldiers into proud little chunks of meat.”
When we’re talking about ways out of a conflict that has been going on in one form or another for almost two-thousand years, the key word there is probably “unimaginative.”
Among other key words. Those two pages are a gold mine.
Zeke is not a fan of angered passion. That’s Grisha’s thing, not his. He is going to be a well-adjusted weapon of mass destruction, thank you very much. Yes, bodies everywhere, but if he can pretend it’s one big baseball game, that’s the way to do it.
The Survey Corps charging him to die still infuriates him. A proud death is a concept worthy of mockery. People who go down that road because they believe in their inevitable death are lost causes.
They aren’t learning. They aren’t trying to work around the problem, which is death. They’re trying the same thing over and over again instead, and the only thing it will produce is a large pile of bodies, and that offends him on a level that costs him his chill, which he values deeply.
One of the things about Zeke is that he grows up knowing he’s of royal blood. He knows, possibly from the second Grisha does, that he can do things with the Founding Titan that no one else can.
I don’t know how long he’s imagined the possibilities of that power, but I’m guessing a while. He’s probably brooded over the concept longer than several cast members have known about its availability. He probably has a long list of creative ideas on how to use it. That puts him in the fun position of being able to judge people for their lack.
Zeke being so self-sustaining is really a thing that matters when considering all of his murder (there is probably also a whole separate post on how Zeke can control titans like his own personal action figures). I think one way to approach his character is to quote broadway.
“I am the one thing in life I can controlI am inimitableI am an originalI’m not falling behind or running lateI’m not standing stillI am lying in wait”
He’ll play along, because it does not have an effect on him. He’s waiting for his opportunity, and if he has to wait up to his last breath, he’s willing to work with that.
The thing about the manga quote up above, where Zeke is deriding the lack of imagination shown by the mass of soldiers he’s about to kill? They win that fight. They die, but they win, because someone has the creative idea of using Zeke’s titan’s to get to Zeke.
The pile of bodies is standard, but the cause is something a little new. Like the 3DMG Zeke admires when he plucks it from Mike’s body. There’s a spark there.
Marley wants the Founding Titan. Zeke wants the Founding Titan. Seems like a happy arrangement.
Marley sucks at getting the Founding Titan.
New Founding Titan is Zeke’s brother.
Heeeeeeeey.
The other thing about Zeke is that he does seem to care for the family that hasn’t abused him. His grandparents earn some warm fuzzies, and the first contact he has with Eren ends with him promising to save him. Family matters, and in this essay I will expect that statement to be enough on the topic.
Now then. About that first contact.
The cheap answer to your most direct query is that Pieck is right there. We’re not using that answer because it’s boring, but also, with how loaded the blocking of the scene is, I’m pretty sure Zeke’s words are meant to be as sincere as they get.
“You have to believe me. I know what you’re going through. We were both victims of your father… he’s brainwashed you.”
Oki doki then. Here’s how Zeke and Eren first meet: A very angry Eren is threatening to slit Bertolt’s throat. Angrily and passionate-like. Those traits of their dad that Zeke is not a fan of. Eren is there in part because their father coerced him into taking on two Titans.
This is the first physical contact Zeke has had with a piece of Grisha in years. It is angry and vengeful, and (based on what R&B have likely told him) unknowingly drafted into a fight it is woefully uninformed about.
“Brainwashed,” might be a little strong for it, but Pieck is there Zeke’s feelings on Grisha are also pretty strong, based on how fast he connects angry with his father and how not to be.
I think Grisha honestly did the best he could for Eren, then had a really bad night of relapsing and murder, but given Zeke’s experience with Grisha, this is just another spawn of his father’s misguided methods. Throwing another body at the problem. That other thing Zeke hates, only because this is a family member and a fellow victim (/future co-conspirator), he cares.
He could have extended a hand to Paradis before, but why? He’s after the Founding Titan and has a host of disdain for the Survey Corps’ methods when they cross at Shiganshina. If he gets the Founding Titan out of that, he’s golden, and avoiding widespread murder by his hand really is a long-term goal that his immediate priorities have no need to consult with.
Marley being in such a rough political spot post-Shiganshina probably also made looking for allies elsewhere appealing. It’s all about seeing opportunities and leaving your best cards for the best moments.
Hope that helps! Thanks for the ask!
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megaphonemonday · 6 years
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Ginny's ready to buy a car. From one of Mike's dealerships. 😃
ooh, nice. I went with “not from one of Mike’s dealerships” for the grumpy Lawson of it all.
and that’s a start
“You’re not starting for another five days, Baker,” Butch complained. “Do you really need to be looking at the scouting reports right now?”
Mike, personally, agreed. He generally agreed with Ginny’s approach to her starts: there was no such thing as over-preparation. However, Butch had a point. She’d had an excellent outing today and should focus on the meal provided by clubhouse chefs to help her recoup, which was currently sitting neglected at her side. 
Ginny, apparently though, agreed too. 
“I’m not,” she replied absently, though given the way her eyes were still trained on her tablet, none of her teammates believed her. Not until she said, “I’m looking for a car.”
“A what?” 
The words were out of Mike’s mouth before he could really think about them.
Finally, her eyes lifted from the screen, meeting his. Her nose wrinkled. “A car, Lawson,” she enunciated, clear and slow like she thought his hearing was going. That earned a light chuckle from the remaining Padres, though most of them had blown through their dinners and gone home to maximize on a night spent in their own houses. Ginny didn’t look proud of the feat, but Blip more than made up for her placidity. 
“You know, they have ones with motors now, man. No more need to propel it with your feet.”
“The Flinstones?” Mike demanded, frowning down any more laughter from his team of traitors. “Really?”
“I figure you and Fred are of an age,” Blip replied airily, ambling off to his cubby so he could get home to his wife and the kids.
Mike let the car talk drop. For a while. If, the following day, he made sure to get into the clubhouse early—so early that only one Padre would possibly be around—that was just to avoid more Stone Age jokes. 
“Hey, Lawson,” Ginny greeted as he walked into the weight room, no sign that she clocked his sour mood. “Do you think Arenado will still be on his hot streak when we go to Colorado?”
“I don’t know,” he groused, frowning at her. “Probably. Are you really going to buy a car?”
“I don’t know. Probably,” she parroted, nimbly folding herself in half to stretch out her hamstrings. 
“Baker.” Mike pointedly averted his eyes, though her ass in spandex was a work of art.
“What?” she rolled upright, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve had a lot of weird Uber drivers lately. Besides, I kind of miss having a car. There a problem with that?”
“No, of course not. But you know you don’t have to do all that research, right?”
Ginny squinted at him. “Did I miss the part where research is an intrinsic and infuriating part of the car buying experience?”
“It is,” he grudgingly allowed. For people who aren’t friends with the owner of an entire network of dealerships.”
She laughed. “Is that why you’re being such a grump?”
“I’m not being a grump.”
“Sure.” Her agreement was clearly pure indulgence. Mike would’ve been more annoyed about it, but Ginny was grinning at him, inviting him in on her joke. “I’m still not buying a car from you, though.”
“Why not?”
“You make 20 times as much as I do, old man,” she said, conveniently forgetting her clutch Nike deal that made him and the rest of the team look like peasants. “You want my money, you can win it from me in poker.”
Mike was smart enough not to blurt that he’d give her whatever damn car she wanted. But, God did he want to. He wanted to give Ginny everything. Still, he’d gotten pretty good at keeping that particular desire to himself. 
“You make that sound like it’s actually hard,” he said instead, cramming down everything else the way he’d become so adept at since last September. She rolled her eyes and went back to stretching. Mike joined her, though he couldn’t resist getting one last word in.
“Okay, you don’t have to buy your car from me, but you do know I’ll help you, right?” With anything remained unsaid.
Her smile, when she looked over at him, was dazzling. “I know you’ve got my back, Mike.”
Hearing that out loud, admitted as easily as if Ginny was just telling him the time, was almost worth the months of denial, the tight control he’d exerted over himself since his desperate attempt at a trade fell through. Mike might not be able to be anything more than Ginny’s friend, teammate, and captain right now, but there were far worse places to be. 
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thegreatwhiteferret · 6 years
Text
I Can’t Help Myself
Summary: Vic had died a little inside when Mrs. Banks had said his name after Tozier’s. It was no secret that the Losers Club had always been the bane of Henry’s existence. That meant that Vic was supposed to hate them too, and after taking beatings every time the Losers did something to thwart Henry, Vic had an overall discontempt for them. Richie Tozier more so than the others, for reasons that Vic never really let himself explore.
Pairing: Victor Criss/Richie Tozier
Rating: Explicit
A/N: Alright, cards on the table, Vic Criss does not get enough love. And yes, I know that he is a bully and part of the Bower’s Gang, but he is a wonderful character to play with and expand upon. This fic was requested by an Anon after I begged for something that would allow me to write a Vic Fic. I am so sorry that it took me so long, I got swamped with requests and lost some inspiration, but I am busting my ass to get it back. I hope that y’all like this and GIVE VIC CRISS A FUCKING CHANCE. (Also I really fucking love writing Richie Tozier, God damn.) 💖💖💖
NSFW Under the Cut...
“We will be having an exam on Antiderivative and Indefinite integrals next Tuesday. I will be assigning you study partners, now to keep you accountable, I will also be passing out a log that you need to both sign and you both will also be responsible for handing in all of your notes. That means that I will know if you haven’t met up with your partner.” Mrs. Banks instructed from the front of the room, she was met with the collective groans of sixteen high school seniors. She chuckled slightly at their pain. “I know, I know, I am just the absolute worst. This is what you get for taking AP Calculus.” She moved towards her desk and pulled out a list of names. Richie raised his hand and she nodded at him to go ahead.
“Mrs. Banks, is there a minimum amount of time that we have to spend with our study partner?” He asked, pushing his thick glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Contrary to popular belief, Richie was all business when it came to his actual classes. He and the rest of the Losers had been talking about all going to college in Boston for years, and Richie had his heart set on M.I.T.. Applications were due in a few weeks and he was not about to do anything to mess his chances up.
“Well Mr. Tozier, I would say that a good minimum to set would be two hours, because I know that you all have work for your other classes, but in all honesty, I think you should work with your partner until both of you are completely confident with your understanding. Who knows? You might enjoy your study partner and choose to work with them for the rest of the year.”
Richie nodded in understanding, he looked around the room to see who he might possibly end up with. His eyes settled on his best friend Stan in the desk next to him.
“Keep looking, Richie, you know there is no way she is going to partner us up together. Every teacher in this school knows that we have been friends since we were toddlers. They want variety in the pairings.” Stan muttered, without even looking up from his notes.
“Well that is just...homophobic.” Richie settled on and Stan shot him a glare that told him to cut the bullshit. Richie rolled his eyes and began looking around the room again. He was a little bummed when he first found out that he and Stan were the only ones out of the Losers who were admitted into the class, but he wasn’t completely shocked. Bill exceeded in English, Mike and Ben in History, Bev was all over art, and Eddie was taking all of the extra science classes that he could to prepare for pre-med.
As he looked around the room he was striked by the fact that although he had known all of these people since kindergarten, he didn’t really know any of them. He might be able to pull their names out of his ass, but anything more than that would be impossible. His eyes settled on a figure slumped over his desk in the back of the room, a shock of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he read through his notes. It was Vic Criss. Richie had been shocked to find out how intelligent he was, once the Bowers gang broke up a few years prior and Vic actually began to apply himself. No longer afraid of what Henry and Patrick would do to him if they found out that he was actually smart.
Then Patrick had been sent to a juvenile detention center somewhere in Kansas or another bum fuck state like that, a facility that could control his mental illness and prevent him from harming any other living thing. That had happened when Richie was a freshman. Henry had still tried to terrorize people, but without the resident psychopath, his threats didn’t seem so harsh. Instead of asserting his dominance over the entire student body, he took it out on his much smaller and weaker boyfriend.
Richie didn’t know the full story of what happened. He had heard rumors that Belch had been the one that saved Vic’s life, carried him to the hospital himself to receive help one Wednesday night in late fall when Vic and Richie were sophomores, but no one ever knew for sure. All anyone knew for sure was that when Vic had returned to school the following Monday, he looked like a train had hit him. His already pale skin was covered in painful looking bruises. He yelped everytime he sat down or moved too suddenly.
Belch became his bodyguard and escorted him through the halls, making sure no one touched him. Henry being the lovely human that he was blew up one day a week or so later, calling Vic a pathetic little slut who was too much of a sissy to take it like a man in front of everyone at lunch. Vic had run off in tears as Belch and Henry started swinging at each other. Eddie had been the one to follow Vic into the boys bathroom and held him as he cried, reassuring him that everything would be okay.
Richie wasn’t supposed to know about that. At least, he figured that Vic would probably prefer if no one ever knew. Eddie had told Richie in confidence, needing to get it off the chest, and Richie promised to never mention it again. He wouldn’t of course, Richie knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“Okay, then.” Richie was pulled out of his thoughts when Mrs. Banks cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. She had found the appropriate list for the class, and Richie could vaguely see that there were two columns on the paper. “Let’s see...Mr. Uris, you will be working with Miss Bloom…” Stan groaned slightly, Pattie had had a crush on him for the last year and a half and refused to accept that he was in love and in a relationship with Mike. A few more names were read off the list, and then he finally heard his own. “And Mr. Tozier, your partner will be Mr. Criss. You have the rest of class to set a schedule to meet up. I’ll be here to answer any questions you have.”
Richie’s eyes drifted to the back of the classroom again and his eyes automatically found Vic’s. He tried to send him a polite grin, but Vic just nodded towards him a solemn look on his face, and dropped his eyes down to his notebook again.
Richie sighed, he had no idea how this was going to work out.
-
Vic tapped his pencil gently against the table in the library where he was sitting, waiting for Richie. Vic had died a little inside when Mrs. Banks had said his name after Tozier’s. It was no secret that the Losers Club had always been the bane of Henry’s existence. That meant that Vic was supposed to hate them too, and after taking beatings every time the Losers did something to thwart Henry, Vic had an overall discontempt for them. Richie Tozier more so than the others, for reasons that Vic never really let himself explore.
He was about to just give up on Richie ever arriving, he was twenty three minutes late already, but then there was a crash at the front of the library and suddenly a sprinting figure with black curls and an outrageously loud printed shirt was coming in his direction and sliding into the seat across from him.
“Shit...hi! Sorry I’m late.” Richie apologized, slightly gasping for breath. Vic shot him an unimpressed look and opened his binder, trying to locate the specific notes he needed. Richie eyed him as he did this. “You know that you’re going to have to talk to me right? For this whole study buddies thing to work, it’s going to involve talking.”
“I’m aware, Tozier. But thank you so much for checking in and making sure that I did. I appreciate it.” Vic replied cooley, his voice void of any emotion. It made Richie want to squirm in his seat, he didn’t like it one bit. Richie groaned, they needed to clear the air.
“Alright, Criss. Let’s get it over with, cards on the table. Why do you hate me so much?” Richie asked point blank, Vic lifted his eyes from his papers and stared at Richie for a moment, he groaned when he realized that Richie didn’t find his actions intimidating.
“I don’t. I don’t hate you.” Vic mumbled, it was so low that Richie had to strain to hear him. He shot Vic another pointed look. “Jesus Christ, what do you want me to say, Tozier? You know how it was. Our groups didn’t get along. It’s as easy as that. I don’t hate you, I don’t particularly like you, but I don’t hate you.”
“Well then…” Richie started, a wicked smirk crossing his face. “We will just have to change that, won’t we?” He let out a low chuckle, and Vic knew he was in for it. He wasn’t going to escape these study sessions unscathed.
-
The thing is, that when Richie sets his mind to something, he gets it done. It’s a fact that infuriated the other Losers at times. Last year when he had heard about the Women’s March in D.C. he decided that Bev had to be there to experience it for herself. Everyone shook the idea off at first, it was too expensive, too far, but Richie believed in himself and sure enough, he and Bev walked the streets of the capital wearing their pink pussy hats.
Vic was no different for him, he was determined to make the boy either like or hate him, preferably like. He couldn’t stand the neutrality of being in between.
The thing that was different for him was how surprised he was that he enjoyed Vic’s company so much. Vic was really intelligent, but in the way that he still had to work hard for his grades, like Stan did. Richie had always been able to walk in completely unprepared for an exam, and still pull a high grade.
Vic was also surprisingly funny, he didn’t even have to try. Richie really enjoyed finding that out about him, sharing hushed laughs in the library. They met after school every single day, long after the first test had come and gone. He really enjoyed their study sessions, although they rarely got much studying done. Vic was becoming a really good friend.
-
Vic wasn’t sure when exactly it happened. Somewhere in between mathematical formulas and stupid jokes, he fell for Richie Tozier.
He resisted for as long as he could, reminded himself of all of the pain that Richie had inadvertently caused him over the years.], but every time that he tried to get himself to hate him, all he could see was that goofy smile, freckled face, and his kind brown eyes hidden behind his huge glasses. He was so far gone for him.
He closed the door to his room, flicking the lock closed and dropping his backpack on the floor before throwing himself on his bed. He had just gotten back from one of his study sessions with Richie, and the bastard had licked his lips every five seconds, causing a familiar heat to pool in Vic’s abdomen.
He wiggled his jeans down his hips kicking them off and onto the floor. His flannel and t-shirt went next until he was laying in just his boxers and socks. He let the heel of his palm press lightly into his clothed cock, feeling how hard he already was. He raced to get his boxers off next, his cock springing free to curve up against his belly.
He squeezed a pump of lotion out from the bottle on his bedside table, and rubbed his fingers together in an attempt to warm it up, and then his hand was on his cock. Jerking in a slow and familiar rhythm. He closed his eyes and threw his head back into his pillows, moaning out at the feeling of his own hand. He thumbed his slit slightly, collecting the drops of precum that had collected there and let them mix with the lotion. He kept jerking up and down, flicking his wrist when he would get close to the head.
Images flashed behind his closed eyes. He imagined running his fingers through those messy dark curls, and pulling on them. God, he would pull on them so hard while Richie swallowed his cock. Then there were Richie’s fingers, long and slim, skilled from playing the guitar, Vic could imagine how the callices would feel against his delicate insides, fucking him open. His tongue, that sinful tongue. Vic wanted that tongue inside of him. In his mouth, God in his ass.
Vic could feel his orgasm fast approaching, his hand sped up, chasing release. He rubbed his thumb against the sensitive ridge under the head of the cock, just on the verge of painful, and then he let himself imagine what Richie’s cock would look like. Long and slim, but impressive, just like Richie himself. He jerked two more times before he was cumming. He felt his toes curl and his entire body spasm, spurts of milky white cum landing on his chest. He stroked himself slowly through it, before he fully collapsed onto his pillows.
Not even a moment later, he felt the shame kick in. Of what he had just done. He needed to keep control of himself. He couldn’t let this go on any longer, what if he slipped up at school? What would happen then.
-
A stray look and a small smile on his face. That was all it took for Vic’s feelings for Richie to be noticed by the worst possible person. Henry.
It happened at lunch. Vic and belch were sitting off in the corner where they always did, the Losers at their own table in the middle of the chaos. Richie had stood on the cafeteria table and started to perform what was surely the worst Irish step dance in history. Bill and Ben had tried to pull him down off of the table, but he was surprisingly strong and coordinated enough to leave them toppled over while he was still upright. The other Losers just shook their heads at his antics, Bev recording the whole thing on her phone.
Vic smiled at the sight. The sight of the happy boy that he liked dancing goofily on a cafeteria table. It felt like only seconds had passed before he was being lifted out of his seat and slammed into the floor. He gasped for air, head throbbing from impact. He looked up to see Henry, damn near foaming at the mouth above him. Belch moved to help Vic up, but Henry shot him a warning glance, the kind that told everyone that he would actually slit his former friend’s throat if he had the chance.
“ARE YOU FUCKING HIM YOU LITTLE FAGGOT?” He screamed down at him, Vic tried to scramble up to his feat, but Henry pushed him back down by his shoulders. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION YOU DUMB SLUT. ARE YOU FUCKING RICHIE TOZIER?”
“N-no NO.” He stammered out, his chest felt heavy, like he couldn’t fully breath. He wished that he had his anxiety medication on him, but Henry never believed in those pills anyway and would have just thrown them away.
“What are you Stuttering Bill now?” Henry asked with a cruel laugh, he squatted down in front of Vic, he was so close that Vic could smell of stale cigarettes that clung to Henry’s tongue, and something else he knew all too well, beer. “I saw you smile at him Victor. You pathetic little fag, in love with a Loser?” Henry looked at someone behind Vic and sneered. Vic didn’t have to look to know that it was Richie.
“HEY BOWERS! Why don’t you leave him the fuck alone?” A voice called out, it was Richie’s, and it made Vic’s heart clench in his chest. Why couldn’t Richie just keep his mouth shut. Let Vic take this beating, and just move on with their lives.
“Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth, Tozier?” Henry spat, and his attention was back on Vic who had managed to stand up, but was struggling to keep his balance. “Does he know, Vicky? Does he know what a pathetic little slut you are, all the things you let me do to you? What you let me AND Patrick do to you?” Henry snarled, and Vic’s breath caught in his throat.
He hadn’t let them. In fact he had convinced himself that it was all a dream, that the pain that he had felt in his ass, like he was being torn open until he bled, was just a dream. They had gotten him drunk and high, just enough that he would be pliable, but not enough for him to black out, he honestly thought that he would have prefered that more, but then he wouldn’t have been able to feel what they were doing to him, and that was truly Pat’s kink. Causing people horrendous pain. Henry liked the dominating side of it, and that night he had. He had dominated Vic without his consent, and let his boyfriend be violated by his friend as well, at the same time. The painful memories came flooding back in Vic’s mind. He could feel the tears pricking his eyes.
“That’s right, Vicky. You remember good and well. He’s never going to want you, even trash like him wouldn’t want something used and destroyed like you.” That was the last thing Vic heard, because he was running again, he had to get out of there, away from him. He was tired of Henry tearing him down like this, in front of people, it was cruel. This time he didn’t just run to a bathroom and hide, he hightailed it out of the front doors of the school and just ran.
He collapsed to his knees once he reached the park, body overcome with emotion and unable to physically continue. Sobs began wretching themselves from his throat, tears flowing freely now. He hadn’t heard anyone behind him, but then he felt a hand touch his shoulder and he flung himself backwards, scared at the prospect of it being Henry, there to finish him off.
“Hey, I’m so sorry. Vic, can you look at me?” A soft voice said, and he whimpered at the sound, he knew that voice. It was Richie. He blinked back tears and turned his head to look at the other boy. Richie wore a concerned expression on his face, and he moved to kneel in front of Vic, careful not to touch him again. Afraid that he would spook him. “It’s just me, Vic. It’s just me.” He soothed.
Vic nodded, and tried to get control of his breathing, he moved closer to Richie, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Richie rocked him back and forth in his arms for a few minutes, until Vic had stopped shaking.
“I…” Richie started, but stopped, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. “I am so sorry, that he said those things to you, that he physically did what he did today, and everything else he did before. I’m so sorry, Vic. You don’t deserve that.” Richie told him softly.
“You don’t know that.” Vic said, voice small as he shook his head. “You don’t know me. I’m pathetic, just like Henry said. I let him do those things to me…” He couldn’t continue, he keeled over and began retching into the grass, the newfound memories present in his mind.
“I don't think that you’re pathetic. I think that you are so strong.” Richie told him, and Vic scoffed slightly. “And I would really really like to get to know you. More than I do already, because I like you Vic. I think you’re special.” Vic looked up at him with tear filled eyes.
“You mean that?” Vic asked, and Richie just nodded. They stayed still and silent for a few more minutes, before Richie was pulling himself into a standing position and reaching a hand down to help Vic right himself.
“Why don’t we go back to my house? I can make you some tea, and we can get to know each other a bit better. How does that sound?” Richie asked sweetly, and Vic could feel his stomach flutter at the tone.
“That sounds perfect.” Vic told him, and let Richie grab his hand, leading him down the streets of Derry to his house.
-
Vic let out a yawn and stretched as he began to fully wake up, he was in an unfamiliar bed and it startled him for a moment. He was about to panic when the door to the room opened and Richie walked in with two mugs.
“Hey, you’re up.” Richie said with a soft smile, Vic must have looked confused, because he continued. “You were really worn out when we finally got back here, you’re in my house by the way, so I figured that it would be best to just let you sleep for a while, you’ve had a rough day.” Richie told him, handing Vic one of the mugs.
“Thanks.” He said, accepting it and taking a small sip of the hot herbal liquid. “For everything, for following me and getting me somewhere safe.” Vic said, nothing but sincerity and gratitude in his voice.
“Of course.” Richie smiled at him again, he really needed to stop doing that. “Vic...can we talk about what happened, what Henry said?”
“I...I don’t really want to talk about the abuse...the things he did to me…” Vic said sadly, a hiccup making its way out of his throat, a sign of how upset the topic made him.
“No. Not that, although if you ever feel comfortable telling me, I would listen as best as I could.” Richie told him. “I was referring to what Henry was saying, about you having feelings for me...do you?” He asked softly, voice full of something that was hard for Vic to pinpoint.
“I do. I’m sorry, I tried so hard to fight the feelings, but I just couldn’t.” Vic confessed, a frown etched on his face. Richie gently grasped Vic’s chin and pulled it up so that he was looking him in the eye.
“I’m glad you couldn’t, because well, I couldn’t either.” Richie told him and Vic’s eyes went wide with shock.
“W-wh-what?” He choked out, and Richie let out a small laugh before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Vic’s lips. He pulled back almost immediately, watching the smaller boy’s face to see his reaction.
“Was that okay?” Richie asked, that mysterious tone was back, self doubt he recognized it as now. His eyes held so much hope, but also fear.
“FUCK YES!” Vic cried out, surging forward to capture Richie’s lips with his again. He crawled into Richie’s lap easily, refusing to break the kiss. Richie held onto his hips, while Vic ran his hands up and down Richie’s back. They pulled back after a few minutes, desperate to catch their breaths. “Richie…?” Vic asked, gaining his attention. “Will you fuck me, nice and slow and lovingly? I’ve never had that before.” Richie’s breath got caught and he choked slightly.
“Are you sure? It’s been an emotional day…” Richie started to ask, but was cut off when Vic pressed his lips to Richie’s again.
“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life. I trust you, please make me feel again.” Vic said softly, and Richie nodded. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and stood to pull his jeans off as well. Vic followed suit, pulling his sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt off as well. Richie let out an audible gasp when he saw some of the scarring that Vic had on his arms and his chest, he knew that they were battle wounds left by Henry.
Richie helped Vic to lay back on the pillows, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before moving down to his chest. Richie pressed a sweet kiss to each of Vic’s visible scars. Acknowledging all of the pain that he had been through. When he was finished, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Vick’s briefs and looked up at him for permission, Vic nodded and Richie pulled them over his ass and down his legs, so that Vic was laying completely bare in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight.
“Can I suck you off, Sweetheart?” Richie asked, and Vic moaned at the thought. Henry had never done that for him, in fact Vic had never had a proper blow job in his entire life, and here his crush was asking him if he could. He nodded in consent. Richie moved forward, wrapping his hand around the base of Vic’s cock and guiding it to his lips. He took it in easily, letting his mouth slide up and down the shaft. Vic let his hand rest in Richie’s curls and Richie groaned, encouraging Vic to tug his hair slightly. When he did, Richie moaned louder, the vibrations sending shock waves through Vic’s cock. It was beautiful, but he didn’t want to cum from just that.
“Richie, if you don’t stop I’m gonna...you know.” Vic let out, and Richie pulled off with a pop, smiling up at him.
“Okay, I’ve got you, how about we try some fingers next? I’ll take it nice and slow, working you open for my cock.” Richie told him.
“Yesyesyesyes.” Vic rushed out, and Richie let out a fond laugh. Richie reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a tube of lube and a condom. He set the condom on the bed, and popped the cap on the tube of lube. He squeezed enough onto the tips of his fingers that he could coat three of them. He rubbed his fingers together slightly to warm it up before turning his attention back to the boy in his bed.
“Can you hug your knees to your chest for me, V? Put that pretty hole on display for me?” Richie’s tone was sweet, but also had a directive tone to it. He wasn’t just asking Vic to do something, but rather telling him exactly what needed to be done. Vic did as he was told and hugged his knees to his chest. Richie groaned at the sight, when his little pink puckered hole revealed itself. “Alright, here goes one finger.”
Richie traced the ring of muscle with one of his lubed up fingers, teasing Vic’s hole ever so lightly. Vic whined and Richie finally relented, pushing his finger past the ring of muscles and into his hole, he took it easily, and soon Richie was thrusting in and out with more force. Vic moaned out at the sensation, and then his jaw dropped open when he felt two fingers pushing back into him. Richie scissored his fingers and flicked his wrist every once in a while, driving Vic absolutely crazy. He was going too slow, he needed more.
“Richie, please. I’m ready. I can take it.” Vic cried out, but Richie shook his head and added another finger so that Vic was being stretched open by three. He was right about Richie’s long and slim fingers fucking him open. It was perfect, exactly what he fantasized about. He started rocking his hips back to meet the thrusts of the fingers, and Richie took that as his cue that Vic was ready for more.
“Are you still with me?” Richie asked, and Vic nodded, cheeks and chest flushing from his arousal. He watched as Richie shed his boxers, his cock just as beautiful as he had imagined in his fantasies. Richie grabbed the condom from the bed and open the foil package, easily sliding the latex down his cock. He leaned forward, the blunt head of his cock resting against Vic’s hole. He gave him one more concerned look, met with a nod, before he slowly pushed himself all the way in. It took a minute, he didn’t want to hurt Vic after all, but then his hips were meeting Vic’s ass, and it felt amazing.
“You can move.” Vic told him, and Richie started thrusting in and out of him slowly and fluidly. Vic moaned at the feeling, screwing his eyes just from the sheer force of pleasure. Richie picked up his pace, building a steady rhythm and adjusting his hips to fuck right into Vic’s prostate. “Ahhhhh fuck!” Vic cried out and Richie repeated the action. Vic was crying out with every thrust, every slight touch of skin on skin anywhere but their crotches.
Richie could feel his own orgasm coming closer, but this was all about Vic. He needed to cum first. Richie snaked his hand down in between them and took a hold of Vic’s cock. He began pumping him in time with his own thrusts. It took less than ten strokes before Vic was letting out a long and drawn out moan, cumming all over his and Richie’s chests. Richie kept pumping into him, now with a purpose, he pressed in one final time and filled the condom deep inside of Vic’s ass. He pulled out carefully, dropping the condom into the wastebasket next to his bed. He moved to lay behind Vic, his arm wrapping over his midsection, and he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.
“Thank you for this, Richie. It was amazing. I just can’t help myself when I’m around you.” Vic said graciously, and he could feel Richie smiling from where he was rested against his neck.
“Right back at you.” Richie said with a slight giggle. “Now how about we go to sleep now, and then deal with discussing what this means when we wake up?” He asked, and Vic nodded turning to press a sweet kiss against his cheek.
The snuggled into one another, neither remembering the last time they had felt this safe and comfortable.  Vic and Richie thanked God they were assigned as study buddies.
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