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internnormaloak · 2 years

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In Little Ways Chapter Three: I Don’t Wanna Be You Anymore (Mid September)

Summary: Hermie has a crisis in the bathroom when his makeup begins to run. Two unlikely heroes come and help.

Pairing: OakWorthy

Tags: Hurt/Comfort

CW: Self Hatred, Past Burning, Anxiety

Title from i don’t wanna be you anymore by Billie Eilish

Previous Chapter

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Hermie ran into the classroom, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed his bag and pulled out his mirror. He stared at his face, tears coming into his eyes. He grabbed some foundation and desperately tried to get it on his face where his makeup began to patch, revealing the intensive burns that he hid underneath. Shit, No, No, No, I can’t let people see this. When the foundation still didn’t look quite right he grabbed his concealer, however, it still looked wrong. He slammed the concealer down and realized his only chance of getting it to look right would be to completely start over. He looked out the window of the classroom and saw the halls empty as class had just begun. Hermie ran through the hall and into the unisex bathroom. He began to splash his face with water and started removing some of his makeup. He got off the rest with some makeup remover he kept in his bag. After it was off he just stared in the mirror.

He looked tired, he had been up all night unable to sleep. That’s why he fucked up so much at his makeup. He couldn’t believe he had let himself be such a failure. He’s an actor goddamnit, he should be able to convincingly play the version of himself he wants to be. He lives to perform.

It was so much easier when he was going through his Batman villain thing and just said it was part of his method of playing Two-Face, but that no longer worked. Partially because Normal would gently but firmly remind him that being in a character that long can not be healthy “and also Hermie is it possible you're avoiding your feelings because it’s easier to pretend?”

He wished he could call Normal or Taylor or anyone else in the gang to come help him, but he knows all of them are in class and just because he knows logically they would skip class to help him doesn’t mean he wants them too.

Plus, as much as he loved his dearest and his friends, the only one that was pretty good with makeup is Scary, and she seemed, to him, to be the least likely to help him with this problem. So any actual support he’d get from the gang would be emotional instead of practical.

He had lost track of time as he stared in the mirror and lost himself in his thoughts. The mirror was a bit grimey, the janitors rarely ever came in and cleaned it. The reflection that stared back at him was just as dirty as the mirror.

Fitting. He thought to himself, if he wasn’t so upset, he may have even laughed. A part of him wanted to clean the mirror, as if cleaning the vessel he saw himself in would make any of this better. As if cleaning the mirror made him any less stuck in his cycle of not trusting himself to put on the makeup, but never wanting to be seen without it.

Suddenly, he was startled into awareness by two people entering the bathroom. Fuck! He thought about trying to hide in a stall but as soon as he decided too, it was too late, he was spotted. He couldn’t hide this time.

He looked at the source of the voices, it was Erica and Margarita Pizza.

“Hermie?” Margarita asked. He was probably more familiar with her compared to Erica, but he wasn’t exactly friendly with either of them. Margarita had been in a couple of plays, something about needing the extra credit or something. Hermie wasn’t really paying attention to her at the time as he was too absorbed in perfecting his role, his study of the other characters in the show could come after he finished his own.

“The one and only,” He tried to say with his usual confidence but he knew he didn’t look the part, he turned back to the mirror. “Don’t mind me just trying to fix my makeup, I’ll be out of here soon.” He grabbed a brush with foundation on it though he even knew his hands were too shaky. Still, he begged whatever deity is up there, who clearly had been ignoring him recently, to listen just once and let Erica and Margarita just leave.

“Hermie, do you want help?” Margarita’s voice was strangely neutral, calm, if not a bit confused. He could hear her footsteps coming closer to him.

He looked over to her, she was staring at his burn scars, he looked down, this is exactly what he didn’t want.

“Oh you don’t have to, there's nothing I can’t handle.” He tried to smile but even he could feel it not quite reach his eyes.

“Hand me your makeup,” Erica demanded, she didn’t sound mad but her tone left no room for argument.

He passed over his bag, “It seems I have no choice here.”

He sat down on the bathroom counter while the other two went through the bag seeing the products he had. He wrapped his arms around himself and avoided the girl’s eyes.

“This foundation is not the best match for your skin tone.” Margarita said, giving him a quizzical look.

Hermie shrugged. “I must’ve grabbed the wrong one this morning. I took apart my bag last night, playing with different looks, and rushed to put it together this morning.”

Margarita just nodded, before her and Erica shared a look. After that they began the process. Hermie noticed them being extra careful on his scarred skin. He objectively knew that this was them trying to be kind but it still made him feel bad, different. But not good different like when he was on stage and people were amazed at how good he was for a high schooler and how he wasn’t like the others. Or even how he knew that he and his friends and boyfriend were different then other high school relationships and would last past high school. This different felt like a reminder of the problem when he used makeup for the opposite reason.

When they were almost done, Erica finally asked a question.

“So Hermie,”

How did you even end up with this Scar? He mentally braced himself.

“Your boyfriend, Normal, he’s never made you feel bad for your scars right?” She seemed to be looking deep into his eyes, “Like I know your whole thing with him is that you are overly-“

“-And obnoxiously” Margarita added,

“-In love with each other. But you know, closed doors and all that.”

Hermie shook his head, “No, he’s never said a single bad thing about how I look, in fact,” he gives a small smile, tiny but the most genuine of the day so far, “He constantly tells me that I’m beautiful and handsome and he’s so lucky, and he’ll support me no matter what.” He then smirks, “He’s a total simp.” Of course, he ignored that he is also a huge simp for Normal.

Erica and Margarita snorted but still looked at each other, having another quiet conversation. Erica put his makeup away and handed him the bag.

“Alright,” Margarita started, “But if he ever says anything do not hesitate to tell us. I know we aren’t like, friends, but like, that be shitty of him and we could destroy him if you need us too.”

“Yeah like, he’s not as low on the totem pole as before but I can and will send him below Pissfoot Gum Toucher if need be.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I assure you that won’t ever be necessary.” Hermie got up off the counter and put his makeup in his book bag. He then finally looked in the mirror.

He looked great. His skin tone was even and it looked very natural, other than a subtle eye shadow look on his eyes that really brought out his eyes. His facial features seemed much more extenuated in the best possible way.

“Thank you guys, I-“

“-Look great, we know.” She started to walk into the corner, “Anyway, remember, sometimes the best way to use makeup is to bring attention to what’s already there, but just to cover it. Both uses are great, but I think people should know how to, and use both.”

“Anyway,” Margarita interjected before Hermie could respond, “We have horses to see during class, so we’re heading out. But we’ll see you around Hermie, yeah?”

“Yes, I‘ll be around.” He then turned away from the mirror. “If you ever need anything just let me know okay?”

But by the time he turned around they were gone.

A/N: Hello, thank you for reading!

Please let me know what you think, I've been editing this chapter for like a week trying to get it to be the way it is in my head, but it still isn't, so I'm going to go ahead and post it.

Title is from i don't want to be you anymore by Billie Eilish

I hope you enjoyed!

-Cecil

#hermie unworthy #dndads #dungeons and daddies #erica drippins #margarita pizza dndads #oakworthy

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

#my writing #moreid #derek #spencer #derek morgan #criminal minds #spencer reid #moreid fic #moreid fanfic #moreid fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer reid x derek morgan #userpenemily

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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BTS Reaction || Angsty Arguments [Request]

A/N: Angst ending!!! GIMMIE! Yes! Bring me back to my angst ways please

Seokjin:

Namjoon smirked as you showed him what you had gotten Jin that morning, it was just another small present to add to the pile of other presents you'd gotten already.

"You sure he has no idea?" You were scared that somehow Jin had managed to find out what was happening behind his back. You and Namjoon had spent weeks planning this surprise Birthday party and you didn't want anything to go wrong. It was the first time his Birthday would be spent at home and not at events like all the years before so you wanted to do something kind of special and Namjoon agreed to help you. The venue was ready and booked, everything was pristine and ready to go except for his gifts. You felt like you couldn't find anything that was going to be as perfect for Jin, what could you get the man that had almost everything he wanted in his life.

"He's clueless, thinks we're all going for a meal together and then heading home." Namjoon laughed sitting back in his chair and watching you, he knew how much stress you were under for all of this to go right but he also knew there was nothing he could do to reassure you that it was going to be fine.

"What are you getting him?" You questioned looking away from your phone, you were sitting on sites looking for the perfect thing but nothing was jumping out at you. You and Jin had been together for three years and you knew him like the back of your hand but it didn't make gift buying any easier for him.

"Not sure yet, me and Yoongi are going out later to shop. Wanna come?" You nodded and looked at the time, it was getting close to 1 pm which meant Jin would be back from lunch soon and you didn't want him to catch you walking around BigHit with no explanation as to why you were there.

"I'll text you the details," Namjoon said watching you get up from his sofa - leaving the bag of decorations and smaller presents in his studio so that Jin couldn't find them.

"What are you doing here?" You almost jumped out of your skin as you shut the door and heard Jin's voice ringing through the air,

"You scared me." You laughed looking up at him but he wasn't laughing. He looked pissed off at the fact that you were there in the first place,

"Why were you bothering Namjoon?" You didn't know what his tone was for, all you did was walk out of a studio it was no big deal.

"We're busy so why don't you just leave us alone?" You frowned as he gave you a dirty look, in all three years of you dating he'd never once looked at you like this before.

"I was just talking to Namjoon about-"

"About what? We're fucking busy Y/n, gosh you're always here!" You blinked at him and tried to ignore the staff members that had turned around to watch what was happening.

"You're always clingy onto me and the other guys, do you have any idea how annoying it is to go somewhere and expect to find peace but," He threw his hands into the air feeling defeated,

"Here you are again being a whiney bitch!" Your heart crushed as he called you a bitch to your face, he was turning red in the face with anger and you could feel your cheeks heating up because of all the people turning to watch the show. Namjoon's studio door opened and he frowned at the sight,

"Jin Y/n was just talking-"

"I know, fucking annoying isn't it. Always talking! Always clinging onto us," You looked at the floor and then up to Namjoon shaking your head you just wanted to get out of the building and away from Jin but he was continuing his speech about you being clingy.

(X)

Jin threw his keys onto the coffee table as he walked through the door of your shared apartment, he expected to see you standing and waiting for him as you usually were but you weren't there.

"Y/n?" His voice rang through the air but you didn't stop packing everything into the bag you were carrying, you'd beaten him home by five minutes so you already had a bunch of stuff shoved into a bag.

"Baby? What are you doing?" His hands touched your arms but you moved away from him and took the bag into the bathroom, giving him the silent treatment was easier than talking to him right now.

"Y/n?" You slammed the cupboard door shut and zipped the bag up and came out of the bathroom slinging the bag over your shoulder and heading for the bedroom door. Your hand reached the handle when you felt his on your wrist,

"Please don't leave me." He whimpered but you took his hand off you and headed down the stairs, you couldn't even look at him without feeling hurt but you knew it wasn't going to end well. Something was brewing and it was bubbling so much everything was going to blow.

"Why are you doing this?" The bag slipped from your shoulder and hit the floor with a light thud, you slowly turned back to look at him.

"Why am I doing this? Maybe because I'm clingy? or annoying? You take the pick of your words Jin and tell me." His mouth hung open as he remembered what he'd said earlier in the day but he wasn't defending his actions.

"Exactly! That's why I'm leaving, I'll leave and you won't have to deal with me being clingy or annoying okay? Tell Namjoon that the party was a huge mistake he'll know what you mean." You went to walk out of the door when he begged you to stop,

"What?" You snapped back at him and for a split second you thought he was going to rush over and hold you but he took the necklace that was around your neck and snapped the chain. It was what you kept a promise ring he had given you on.

"Right, wouldn't want me to pawn it in or anything." You picked up the bag and walked out of the front door slamming it behind you as you walked down the street. You had nowhere to go, the only money you had on you was enough for one night a hotel but the closest hotel wasn't for miles away from you. You felt alone and stranded but there was no way you were going back.

Yoongi:

You'd been planning the entire event with Jungkook for months, everything had to be a surprise from Yoongi. The boys tried every year to surprise him for his birthday but it always failed because Yoongi knew when they were up to something however, it was different this year. This year they had you and they knew that you could lie convincingly to Yoongi thanks to your acting background.

"So I'm thinking, I take him out for a one on one meal and then bring him to the venue?" You told Jungkook as you looked over everything, you were both sitting in your apartment talking about the plans. The party was in less than a week and you wanted to make sure it was going to go off without a hitch.

"Sounds good, I can't believe he has no idea." Jungkook laughed looking through the bags of decorations. You'd been storing everything at your small apartment since you and Yoongi barely hung out there - it was normally at the dorms or his apartment where you would spend your time together.

"I'm glad he has no idea, but I'll be even happier when all of this is over and I can quit lying to him." You laughed and looked over at the door as the doorbell rang,

"I only called ten minutes ago, that's some fast pizza." You grabbed your purse and headed over to the door to answer it,

"Yoongi?" You said his name a little louder so Jungkook would hear and begin rushing to pack everything away, you'd gotten this far without him realising you weren't about to let him catch onto everything now.

"You okay?" Yoongi asked, a little confused as to why you were blocking him from coming into the apartment, normally you'd let him just walk right in but the door had been locked.

"Waiting for pizza, come in." You moved out of the way and prayed that Jungkook had hidden everything.

"You alone?" Yoongi questioned, he saw a pair of men's shoes by the door and there was a man's jacket on the arm of the sofa.

"Yeah," Jungkook had clearly hidden away for a reason so you went along with it but Yoongi knew you were lying.

"Why-" The doorbell rang and you rushed away from the awkward tension to go and answer it,

"Thank you!" You took the pizza back into the living room and Yoongi stood there with his arms folded over his chest as he stared at you.

"If you aren't alone why two pizzas?" You started to stutter for something to say but he shook his head at you,

"I should haven't listened to what people were saying, where is he?!" His started raising his voice but you were still stuck on what he had said.

"What do people say?"

"That you're a whore, only with me for money and we all know it's true." That one stung, you looked at him still trying to find something to say back to him.

"Where is he then? The guy you're cheating on me with?!" His voice got so loud you dropped the pizza boxes onto the floor but he continued to yell at you.

"I'm not cheating on you Yoongi, I was-"

"Men's shoes, a man's jacket? But no, of course, you're not cheating on me. They were right though! Fucking slut," You felt your heart convulse as he spat the words out like they meant nothing, that they held no value when they did. With every word that flew from his mouth, you felt your heart crush all the more.

"Stop it!" You begged but he continued to call you the mean things and you ended up crying in front of him, you'd completely forgotten that somewhere in your very small apartment was Jungkook listen to everything that was happening.

"Whoever he is, I hope he can deal with how annoying you are, because I can't." You wiped your eyes not being able to stand this anymore, it was like hell the way he was talking to you.

"Leave. Leave right now." Your voice was stern and he cocked his head to the sighed and laughed at you.

"You're the one crying because you got found out cheating." You sobbed as he stared at you like that. Like you were nothing to him when less than two months ago he told you he loved you and was planning a future with you.

"Get out." You tried to tell him but it was more of a beg that came from your lips,

"Fuck off. I hope he enjoys it until you cheat on him!" He kicked over the table as he walked out of the house, slamming the front door behind him as he did so. Once you knew his car as gone you slid down the wall of your apartment bringing your knees into your chest as you sobbed into them.

Hoseok:

This wasn't your idea it had been Jiwoo’s idea, you wanted to do something special for Hobi's birthday since it would be the first time you were celebrating together with him and his family.

"I was thinking we could all go out to some kind of meal, or we could throw a small party. Us, his friends and a couple of old school friends." She said as she grabbed her cup of hot chocolate, you were in a small cafe around the corner from the BigHit building. This was nothing new, you and Jiwoo would meet up and have meals occasionally and get to know one another. She treated you like a sibling and you loved it, you felt so welcomed into the family by all of them and it was a wonderful feeling.

"I think the boys would love that as well, it's been a while since everyone was together like that." You said to her as you put your cup down and looked at your phone. Hoseok had been ignoring you all morning since you had a small fight about going to see Jiwoo. You didn't see the big deal about it and he hadn't explained why he was so mad all morning about it. He just went to work mad and ignored you after the fight, it annoyed you but you assumed he just needed to let off some steam.

"Everything okay? You haven't stopped checking your phone." She laughed and you nodded at her,

"Yeah we're just-" You stopped when you saw Hoseok walking into the cafe with the boys, all of them laughing and joking until Hoseok locked eyes with you and his smile dropped. He rushed over to the table,

"Can I talk to you alone?" He had another smile across his face but you could already tell it wasn't a good smile, it was the kind of smile you faked when you didn't want people to know that you were fighting with one another. You followed him towards the toilets of the cafe and he stared at you waiting for an answer,

"What?" You whispered looking at him, he folded his arms over his chest and shook his head at you.

"I told you not to meet up with her," You frowned,

"I didn't see the big deal-"

"She thinks you're annoying, she doesn't like you. She just puts up with you because you're dating me. None of my family actually like you...The boys don't either." You stared at him, he couldn't be serious? This had been Jiwoo’s idea in the first place. To come here and plan the whole birthday for him and Jimin had been your best friend since you were kids together.

"You're joking, right? Jimin and I have been friends since we could walk." You laughed nervously but you stopped instantly when you realised he was being serious,

"For your information, Jiwoo invited me here to plan your birthday so maybe you're projecting, maybe you find me annoying?" He nodded and looked at you.

"Yeah, you're right I do." You nodded without saying another word and walked out, going back over to the table without uttering a word to anyone you left the cafe.

Namjoon:

Jungkook had been trying to stall you from going to see Namjoon for the last ten minutes,

"Come on. I just have to ask him one question." You laughed at Jungkook who was still trying to do anything to get you to stay with him in the dance studio, that was when it hit you. He was trying so hard to keep you in one place and you were filled with dread as you realised there was probably only one reason why.

"Look! I'm staying," You lied, you sat on the chair closest to the door while he got himself ready to show you a dance that he'd 'been wanting to show you all week' it was a lie. Jungkook never danced in front of anyone but the boys unless there was a concert on or a teacher was helping them. The second his back was turned you were out of the door and in the elevator going up to Namjoon's studio, you were probably overthinking. You and Namjoon had been together for four years, he wasn't just going to throw that away. He was probably just busy, you hand hovered over the door handle as you debated about walking inside with yourself. It wasn't until you heard shuffling that you pushed the door open and there right in front of you was Namjoon, with another girl making out on his desk. He was stood between her legs as she held them open for him, his dick inside of her and your world came to a crashing halt. You slammed the door and tried to rush down the hall but Jin was coming up to you and Namjoon was screaming your name.

(X)

"Come out! I- Y/n! We have to talk about this." Namjoon was trying to open the studio door that you'd locked yourself behind but it wasn't working, you sat on the sofa inside there and pulled your knees into your chest. All that filled your head was him and that girl on his desk, him and that girl in your bed and him and that girl...Just him and her always.

"Y/n! We have to talk about it!" You couldn't even begin to form words, your throat was dry and your blood was running cold. You wanted to leave but there was no way out except facing him and what he had done to you.

"You can't hide in there forever." You looked at the door, he was yelling at you as though this was your fault. As though you coming into the studio and finding him balls deep in another woman was your fault and not his.

"No, you're right!" You flung yourself up and opened the door trying to move past him but he blocked you inside.

"Let me out." Your voice was blank, no emotion as you tried to ignore his pleas for you to listen to him. You'd only come to see him and ask what he would want for his birthday. You'd been planning a beautiful party with Jin all week and in one fell swoop, it was all ruined.

"Talk to me." He begged holding onto your wrist, your eyes travelled down to look at them.

"Talk to you? Okay, let's talk about how you were balls deep in someone that wasn't me? Talk about how you had Jungkook lie and get me to stay downstairs, does everyone know about her or are their multiple others too?" He shook his head at you as you went to walk away from him,

"It's your fault you know!" You froze in place as his words registered in your head.

"My fault?" You turned around to face him and he nodded while shrugging his shoulders,

"If you weren't so busy with Jin all of the time maybe I wouldn't have slept with someone else." You pretended to understand his logic and nodded along with what he was saying to you.

"Yeah, yeah. You're so right Namjoon, from now on I'll wait on you hand and foot. I'll never leave your side okay?" You asked sarcastically turning to leave once again he shouted something but you continued walking away from him - holding up your middle finger at him as you strolled away from him. You'd done your best not to cry in front of him but you knew the moment you got home to the shared apartment you were going to break into pieces.

Jimin:

You'd spent months saving up the money to get the tickets to go and see Jimin, you'd been together for three years but you still never let him pay for anything that you knew you could pay for but this time was different. This time he had no idea you were flying out to go and see him on tour, it was his birthday and you wanted to spend the week together instead of apart as you had done for the last three years. Jungkook had helped you with arranging taxi's for when you got to London and helping you book the hotel room next door to Jimin's.

"You look great, he's going to love this." Jungkook said as you came out of the bathroom wearing Jimin's favourite outfit on you, you did a small spin in the room before posing for Jungkook and bursting into laughter. Jimin was at the concert venue getting some extra practice in and Jungkook was agreeing to take you to the venue for the surprise to be a little special and he was going to record everything as well.

"Let's go."

(X)

"Jimin! Go again!" Someone called out from backstage, you were sitting at the side with Jungkook still hidden from Jimin but he just caught your laughter and he groaned into his mic.

"Follows me everywhere." He had a laugh in his voice so you figured he was joking,

"That laugh, it haunts me! Follows me everywhere just like they do." You froze in place as he made a joke about you following him everywhere, Jungkook stared at you not knowing what to do in this sort of situation, he stumbled backwards and knocked a bunch of microphones stands over and Jimin looked over at you both.

"See! Follows me everywhere!" He yelled and you could tell he was mad about it, you stared down at the floor as you felt stage managers all turning to look at you. Jimin walked over to you and took you to one of the changing rooms backstage not realising he still had a microphone on himself as he did so.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded answers slamming the door behind him and staring at you, he folded his arms over his chest looking you up and down.

"It's your birthday, I wanted to surprise you." He groaned running his hands through his hair as though he was the frustrated one here and that you hadn't just heard what he said about you on stage.

"Surprise me, sure. With how fucking obsessive you are? You always show up everywhere. I can't go anywhere or do anything without you popping up and asking me questions about it! Do you know how suffocating that is!? To have you breathing down my neck all of the time?!" You looked down at the floor trying not to cry in front of him right now, you just figured he was under a lot of pressure and he didn't mean what he was saying to you. Someone began tapping on the door but he continued to ramble on,

"You're always there! Everywhere I turn! There you are, smiling, laughing and acting like the perfect partner when you're just so god damn fucking annoying!" You flinched as he yelled and his voice echoed through the venue then it hit you hard, he was still wearing a small microphone on his shirt and you knew that everyone inside the building had heard every single word he'd been saying to you.

"Where are you going!?" He yelled as you pushed past him and opened the door, Jungkook was standing there with his hand up as if he was going to knock on the door but you pushed past him and ran towards the taxi bay outside.

Taehyung:

"Come on!" You giggled moving Taehyung's chair out from under his desk at home. You'd been trying to get him to leave with you for the last hour but he hadn't moved. He'd decided that the game was far more important than spending time with his partner. The reason you were so stressed about getting him to leave was that you'd planned the best surprise birthday party for him and you were waiting for him to go and see it. All of the boys, friends and staff members were at the venue waiting for you to come but you were late.

"Fuck! Alright! I'm coming!" You ignored the tone of his voice knowing you'd probably annoyed him too much, he'd said he wanted to play the game but you'd been begging for him to come with you.

"Okay good! Wear my favourite shirt on you," You giggled but he ignored you and followed you down the stairs in the same shirt he'd worn all night and all morning.

"What are we waiting for? You were in such a rush two minutes ago." You nodded and slowly walked out of the apartment texting the boys that you were finally on your way to them but Taehyung seemed to be in a really bad mood.

"Smile baby, it's your birthday." You cooed reaching up to poke his cheek but he shoved your hand away from him and walked out of the door. You followed beside him in silence as you tried to make sure he went in the right direction, they were all waiting at the local cafe that they'd been pimping out with directions.

"It's my birthday, you're right. I should be at home relaxing instead of out with my-" He continued rambling but you couldn't hear him because he was mumbling under his breath.

"What?" You giggled thinking he was just joking about something but he stopped in his tracks and stared at you.

"I said instead of out with you, you're being so annoying and incredibly clingy tonight! Fuck! I just wanted to stay at home and play videos games but No! You had to drug us out to some lame cafe!" You stood still as he yelled at you in the street, you and Taehyung rarely fought and when you did he never yelled at you. Neither of you yelled at one another because you both hated it, you hated getting mad at each other. You found no use for fighting, if you had a problem it was best to talk about it calmly but that wasn't how Taehyung was feeling tonight.

"You find me annoying?" You stuttered out and he scoffed in response,

"Yes, I find you annoying, I find you clingy and I'm not the only one. All the boys agree with me, you've done nothing but bother them all week!" Everything he was saying was all starting to hit you at once, like being hit by a truck. You chest physical started to hurt as he continued to list off everything he thought about you that week alone,

"Just keep coming with me." You whispered trying to make him see that this wasn't you trying to be annoying but nice. He followed behind you in silence and you stood outside the cafe, no one could tell from the outside that the inside was done up to look special for him.

"See! Another dumb idea of yours! A cafe! It's my birthday, we could have at least gone somewhere nice." The boys watched from the inside as Tae started yelling at you and you were shaking your head trying to convince him to go inside.

"Leave me alone! Fuck! I can't believe we've made it this far in our relationship." You froze in place and stared at him, blinking as he said that before walking away from you.

"Don't leave me. Don't you dare leave me!" But he did just that, he walked away as though leaving you in the street crying was no big deal to him. You sniffled and took in a deep breath as you turned around to see Hoseok standing in the door,

"The party's cancelled, I'll pay for everything." You whispered pushing past them and into the small cafe to find the manager.

Jungkook:

You slowly walked around the gaming room in the shared apartment you had with Jungkook, you'd been living together for six months and it had been the best six months of your life.

"What exactly am I looking for?" You asked Namjoon down the phone as you walked around the room, he'd gone into town for you to get Jungkook's gift but he needed a little help.

"It'll be on his desk, a controller." You walked over and spotted the battered controller that Jungkook owned, it was broken due to all the times that he smashed it around whenever he lost control over a game.

"Got it, sending you pictures now." You and Namjoon had been planning the perfect birthday surprise party for Jungkook, usually, he and Namjoon would share a party but this year you decided to throw a surprise party for Jungkook. You took photographs of the controller and sent them over to Namjoon, you went to place the controller down when you heard the front door slam making you jump in surprise. The controller slipped out of your hand and onto the floor finally breaking as it got its final blow.

"Shit." You whispered trying to clean it up before Jungkook walked into the room but it was too late, he stared at you and then down at what you were doing.

"For fuck sake!" He yelled making you jump a little, he bent down and began cleaning up the broken pieces,

"You break everything you touch!" He yelled and you moved away from him trying to tell him it was already broken before you touched it but it was no use. He wasn't going to listen to reason after he just found his controller smashed up,

"You can't just leave shit alone that doesn't belong to you?!" You looked at him stuttering out an apology but it wasn't good enough for him he was pissed off at you,

"Why are you even in here?! This is my space to get away from you!" He yelled and you stumbled out of the room and watching him slamming the door in your face, he continued rambling on the words he was saying, complaining about you as if you weren't stood a couple of steps away from the door.

(X)

"I didn't mean to break it." You defended later that night but he was shaking his head at you already,

"Just go away, you're so fucking clingy." He grumbled throwing the pieces of the broken controller into the bin, he clearly wasn't over it yet.

"It was an accident Kookie." Your hands came into contact with his back but he shoved you away,

"I said leave me alone! Fuck! Do I need to say it in another language for you to understand?! Leave me alone!" You tried to say something else and he started shaking his head,

"You know what, just fucking leave. Pack your shit! and get out of my house!" He yelled looking at you, you looked him in the eyes and he was serious about every word he was saying.

"Jungkook?"

"I said get out!" You nodded without another word and left him standing in the living room while you rushed upstairs to pack as much as you could into one bag.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

OATH

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Words: 1.836

Warnings: none, fluff

Synopsis: after a bad mission, yn is there to support Leon who is doubting himself

"Here you are.", Yn said with a soft smile as Leon opened the door of his hotel room.

"Yn, hey.", he said low, looking tired and exhausted.

"May I come in?", she asked carefully, nodding into the room.

Leon stepped aside, "Sure. But I'm not the best company at the moment."

"I know. Chris ... told me what happened.", she said as Leon closed the door.

Leon leant against the doorframe with crossed arms, "And now Chris sends you to talk with me as his last chance because I don't wanna talk with him?"

"Actually...", she said while putting a bottle of Whiskey and two glasses on the table, "I'm not here to talk."

Leon looked at her with confusion written on his face and a raised brow.

"I know you, Leon. After this mission, I expect you to hide in this room to get drunk. But getting drunk alone sucks. So, here I am. Your support. We can talk, we can sit in silence. Whatever we do and everything that happens while we drink this bottle stays between us and with this bottle. You know like 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'.", she explained smirking.

“Like an oath?”, Leon asked amused, feeling already a bit better. He had no idea how she was able to do that but it seemed to be her magical power to let him feel better even if Leon didn’t think he deserved it.

"Yeah, kinda. So, come on, let us go to bed- no! Not what you think but if someone passes out, it would be more comfortable.", she said, taking the bottle and the glasses. Leon followed her and together, they sat side by side on the huge hotel bed with pillows in their backs and with a perfect view of the night city lights from the window facade.

Yn poured Whiskey into the glasses and handed one of it to Leon. While taking it, Leon’s fingers brushed over her skin but even if Leon checked her reaction closely, she was good at hiding the impact he had on her even by this small contact.

"This is good.", Leon said after the first small sip to taste the liquid.

Yn nodded and let the amber liquid slowly swirl in her glass while watching the light dancing in it, "Yeah, it's my dad's favorite Whiskey. I hoped you would like it.", she said, looking at Leon with a soft smile before they touched glasses.

Leon was still staring into his glass, after a while of pure, comfortable silence, he said: "I never expected everything would go so wrong."

Yn stayed silent to give him time. She also had no idea what she could say. Yes, the mission had gone wrong but she was convinced it wasn’t Leon’s fault. At least, not how he thought it. He always did what he could to save as many people as possible.

"It's almost as if whenever I make one step forward someone comes around and pushes me two steps back. It's exhausting.", he sighed.

"But you're still fighting. That's all that matters.", yn said low.

Not looking at her, he answered: "Are you sure? How long can a man fight before he starts to break?"

"I don't know. But I saw you fighting. You still have a lot of energy. I guess much more has to happen before you even start to break."

Leon scoffed and looked at her with a grin that wasn't reaching his eyes, "You have a high opinion of me.", he said bitterly, doubting himself.

Yn turned over to him, "Of course I have. You're the one everyone of us can count on. I can count on you whenever I need you. No one could do what you're doing to stop this whole bullshit."

Leon saw the truth in her eyes but still, "I'm not so sure about that."

Quickly, she put her glass on the nightstand to face him, "Leon, if you give up, there won't be someone else. If you give up, they will win."

Leon drew his brows together, "And what if I don't wanna fight anymore? All the people who died because of me-"

"And what's with all the people who are still alive because of you? Doesn't this number count as well? And I bet it's higher than the other one.", yn said convincingly, waiting for Leon’s reaction.

Leon put his glass away as well. After the third glass, his mind already felt a bit cloudy. Maybe that was the reason behind his courage. As he turned back to yn, he leant closer to her, "You know, I like the way you see me.", he admitted low.

"I always saw you like this and I always will see you like this. Leon, you're the best man I know-", she got stopped by his lips on her own. The kiss was careful, soft but also desperate. As Leon noticed that she stayed where she was, he tangled his fingers into her hair to deepen the kiss even more. While still kissing her, he snaked his arm around her small waist to pull her close and just like that, yn laid on her back with Leon hovering above her.

Her mind was clouded with alcohol, and maybe it was because of this that she got brave enough to act the way she always wanted: yn digged her fingers into his long hair to scratch along his neck what caused him to moan. She had imagined how Leon would kiss her but to feel it was so much better.

Leon drew back to look into her eyes but neither of them said something. There was a silent agreement between them. Both wanted the same thing. And so, they were just relishing the moment together.

The next morning, Leon awoke with the first rays of sunlight warming his naked chest. A movement next to him brought the events of the past night back into his mind. Leon rolled on his side and looked at yn. She was naked and her legs tangled with the blanket. A beautiful view in the rising sun. Her hair was tousled and spread across the pillow. Carefully, Leon took a strand of her hair to pull it out of her face.

As Leon brushed her cheek with his fingers, she moved, slowly opening her eyes and smiling sleepily at him, "Hey, good morning."

"Morning. I didn't mean to wake you up.", Leon said softly with an apologetic glance.

"Well, with such a view in the morning, it's not the worst thing to wake up to.", she said while placing her hand on Leon's chest, feeling his heartbeat.

He watched the move and sighed. Everything just had happened and now, he wasn't sure if that had been right. Leon liked her. A lot. He respected her and before the mission, he wanted to ask her out and now, it seemed to be more complicated. His eyes moved to the bottle on the nightstand. Half of it was still filled.

"Leon? Buyers remorse, huh? It's okay if you regret the last night. Like I said, what happened during the bottle stays with the bottle. We don't have to talk about it. Ever.", she said, slowly retrieving her hand away from him and pulling the blanket closer to her body.

Leon noticed the shift in her mood and hurried to stop her from leaving the bed, "No! No, I don't regret anything. I just.. I...", he said and laid an arm around her middle.

"Yeah?", she asked insecure and feeling vulnerable.

"Damn, I had planned it differently.", Leon cursed low and looked away, brushing his hair out of his face.

"You had planned what?", yn asked confused.

Leon rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes, "I... I wanted to ask you out but then, there was this mission and everything went so wrong. And now, we're here... skipping a few steps."

"Mhh...", she said, slowly nodding while Leon watched her curiously. She looked at him, at the bottle and back at him before she grinned, "So, Leon Kennedy wanted to ask me out, huh? Good to know. But as I see it, the bottle is still filled."

Matching her grin, Leon pushed her back to climb on top of her, pushing the blanket away on his way to have her naked again, "You have an idea, sweetheart?", he whispered low and smirking while stroking over her jawline and neck with his fingers, tracing her facial lines.

Yn slid her hands over Leon's naked back, digging her nails into his skin now and then, which caused him to shudder with pleasure, "You know the oath, whatever we do, it still counts to the bottle."

"So, until this bottle doesn't get empty, the thing between us, doesn't have to stop either?", Leon asked.

"That's my idea.", yn said and nodded slowly, already seeing the hunger in Leon’s eyes.

"I really, really like your idea.", he breathed before he crashed his lips on her. He found his way between her legs and within a few more moments, the two were busy with the second round to explore each other.

***

Leon took a cardboard box with 'kitchen' written on it to carry it inside the house he and yn had just moved in. Yn already were unpacking another box. She took some glasses to put them away. From the corner of his eyes, something caught Leon’s attention. It was the black cap of a bottle. He took it out of the box and smiled as he held a half filled bottle of Whiskey in his hand. He remembered the night where yn had brought it. It was the night where everything had started between them, "We still have it.", Leon said and raised the bottle up as yn looked puzzled at him.

She grinned, the same memories were running through her mind, "Of course, we do. I won't allow that something happens to this bottle or otherwise, things are over between us. Remember the oath."

Leon chuckled and snaked his arms around her waist to bring her close, "Even after ten years, you still think I would leave just because the bottle would be empty or broken?"

"Whatever we did, we do or we will do, it still sticks to the bottle. So, why should we take the risk?", she asked with a smirk. It was silly but it was the thing that had brought the two together.

Leon cupped her chin and kissed her softly, considering if he should be honest after all these years, that this wasn't the original bottle anymore. It was another one he had brought after the original one got destroyed by accident. As he left her lips and saw her smile and sparkling eyes, he stayed silent. There was no reason to take that away from her. He loved her just too much and the tradition was just a silly thing of theirs.

It was their oath and it shouldn’t be broken.

#resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil infinite darkness #resident evil the village #resident evil vendetta #resident evil #resident evil damnation #fandoms #writing

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tenderdean · 3 years

Text

i was talking to @andromedaskyline about how we just know whatever this ending is gonna be will be—well, a punch to the gut at best, but then it got us thinking about what kind of ending we want for dean and listen. listen.

when all is said and done, dean is alive and well, and he drives off into the sunlit horizon, and at the end of that road after however much time he needs to recover—

he starts a halfway house.

a halfway house for hunters, yes, but mostly for kids.

kids like claire and krissy and josephine, and alex and patience. kids that fell out of their normal lives and into hunting, with no feasible way back out. kids like dean.

it’s a place to crash and recuperate, where there’s a roof over their heads and a bed to call their own and a food-stocked pantry (it never runs low. dean never lets it run low.) but also: a waypoint.

dean’s still got sonny’s number, and if there’s one person who can help a kid find a future or a family or a purpose, it’s sonny. (it’s also dean—but he’s not used to advertising himself; it’ll always feel like overselling.) he sits up late at night working through college applications, scholarship applications, to help these kids through the nightmare that is lying convincingly on paperwork. he teaches these kids all the things he had to learn by his lonesome: how to cook, how to clean and mend clothes and treat wounds and hustle pool without getting decked in the face. and if they’re set on hunting—and he gets it, he does, because retiring was never an option for him when there’s lives to be saved, and he knows how—then he rolls up his sleeves and he teaches them.

hunters are a special kind of people, too rebellious for their own good, but he knows not to push. anyone can leave, but anyone can also stay. and when they do, he’s got things to tell them: the fastest way to decapitate a vamp and torch a wendigo, where to park their getaway car, which weapons to always have on hand and which to leave in the motel room, never to leave a case too early to miss something or late enough for the cops to get you. who to call when they do. basic skills, survival skills, but there’s nothing basic about them anymore when they’ve amounted to his entire life and he’s perfected them, had to perfect them to stay alive through it all.

he’s seen things, butted heads with things that go unmentioned in even the thickest of lore books, and he makes sure they know how to take all of them down, or else how to sweet-talk it back where it came from. he makes sure every kid knows the vampire antidote by heart. he also tells them about purgatory, and to think hard before mercy-killing anything into an existence of blood-slash-blood-no-rest-no-peace. some things can save themselves: if they want to, let them, but make sure they follow through. it’s about the saving, not the killing, and if the two of them become muddied you have to save yourself first.

dean has a bed for you, in that case. a bed and a mean burger and an ear tilted in your direction.

sometimes, sam calls: dean lets it go to voicemail, and that’s a gift to them both. dean will leave a voicemail of his own, in time. he’ll talk for however long he wants to, about whatever he wants to, answers the questions he likes and doesn’t answer those he doesn’t. talks about the kids, all the time, about how much he wishes he could’ve done this for kevin. there’s no interrupting in voicemail, no pointed glares, and the new routine is maybe the healthiest they’ve ever had.

he still goes out on hunts, as a teaching outing with the kids or to let off steam or because it’s an all hands on deck sort of thing. he can’t let himself get rusty, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t indulge: memory foam on his bed, a monthly road trip in the Impala planned and followed through with, a nice, slim pair of new boots perhaps more often than he needs. it’ll take a while, but someday in the future, he even goes to the beach. leaves the united states to do it, and comes back toasty and bug-bitten and about fifty tons lighter by way of his soul.

it evolves, as kids leave and new ones come in, because no one can leave dean’s house without his number. it becomes a hub. dean makes sure there’s a weapons arsenal in the garage, stakes of various obscure woods and silver bullets by the thousand and machetes besides. they’re all for borrowing—he’ll get new ones if some don’t return. the rest of the garage is divided: the impala and all that’s needed for her upkeep, and a workbench, a visor, a torch. he works on side-projects. lets his inner inventor out to play. EMFs that can detect hex bags, glasses that fracture the light just weirdly enough that no ghost can slip past the wearer unnoticed.

that’s how, in ten years, he’ll reinvent the Colt. he makes as many bullets as he can, and it’s expensive, slow work, but it’s the largest ace any of them have ever had up their sleeves and he wants it to be available to anyone who needs it.

knowledge isn’t something to hoard, not when it can save lives. and fuck if holding the world together with his bare hands more than once, more than twice, didn’t leave him with some unconventional wisdoms, some hard-earned truths and bits of trivia that could never end up being useful but also very well could. he’s prepared for that. makes sure his kids are prepared, too.

it’s not just the kids anymore, though, not when the hunters among them have branched out and met other hunters and the world knows his name, anyway, for all kinds of reasons, good and bad. his is not a name that slips someone’s mind when it’s mentioned in passing. hasn’t been for a long, long while, and that was never a good thing until this: until it just grows around him, not murder-plots or resentment or a heathy dose of fear of being associated with him, not like a snare drawing tight but a garden. (he keeps one, out back. hasn’t really got that much of a knack for it, but some of the kids like ripping roots out of dirt, and hell, so does he.)

it’s not replacing bobby. he doesn’t pretend to be the FBI superintendent or social services or someone’s lawyer, not when he’s not out there in a suit. when a phone rings, the person on the other end always knows his name.

it starts out messy, and it’ll always be messy, but it becomes more structured as they go. a demon case comes in: they’ve got people specializing in that, send them out. a rugaru: the same. and if it’s something that’s truly Out There, they send dean, and he’ll handle that. when he comes home, he’ll make sure that next time, it won’t be just him who knows what to do.

some kids start penning down comprehensive lore books, his dad’s journal with the volume turned up, with only the stuff that’s true and none of the fluff, the muddied waters. dean contributes to that more than he expects, at first, and suddenly they’re crowding and crawling around him, eager for his input. turns out he has a lot to say.

not enough for the kids, though, it seems, because they keep sneaking carver edlund’s books into the house when he has banned them, has made it a bold point on his penned-down list of house rules. he finds them stuffed under mattresses and as pdfs on phones. he burns what he can. but he also says, okay, all right, i’ll write a fucking memoir if that’s what it takes to get you people to stop smuggling this trash in. and he lays down the basics: azazel’s plot and meddling angels, an apocalypse or two, what’s there besides the earth and how to make sure you never go there. nothing warranting gaudy pulp covers with half-naked men on them. if anyone wants to know which brother did what, they’ll have to be damn good at reading between the lines, because dean’s too over it to point fingers, especially not when his words might stick around for other generations to read and judge and point their own. he doesn’t put his name on it. leaves it anonymous.

what he doesn’t count on are the notes in the margins, the whispered conversations after dinner or the glances he’ll get: that he’s the hero of that story, he’s just too humble to write it down.

he only yells about that once.

in the end, it’s like this: there’s no american men of letters, but there’s people of action, and they all cluster around the heart of the country where the drive is about the same to each coast, and at the heart of that is dean.

in the very, very end, it’s like this: his memoir goes into print, and there’s a preface telling his name in bold letters, and clarifying the details he had made sure to leave extra vague. if you’re in a roadhouse bar somewhere—and there’s more of them now, run by those who wouldn’t stay but wouldn’t leave, either—there’s a solid chance you’ll run into a dean or deanna or ten, and they can tell you exactly who they were named after and why.

but right now, it’s just a chance, something to build out of nothing, something he wishes he had back when. something to turn his north towards, to pour all his strengths in that have grown from pain and weakness. they do always say the best leaders are those who never wanted to lead. out of all the rubble, something that’ll hold up without him there to keep it together, though he’s the heart that beats in it, anyway. he’s the home it grew up in.

#dean winchester deserves better #we both spitballed this into this huge wonderful thing #and it helped so much. so had to share #text #prose #fic

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xlostinobsessionsx · 3 years

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Good Girls are Bad Girls that haven't been Caught | Luke Patterson

Pairing: alive! 1995! Luke Patterson x fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,038

A/N: A big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky for proof-reading and making this fic much more vibrant! 💖

This fic is based on "Good Girls" by 5 Seconds of Summer.

Masterlist

Luke and (Y/N) knew each other since they were kids. They had been neighbors since childhood, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to be playing with each other in their adjoining backyards most days. But time went by and slowly they got older. On his 8th birthday, Luke had gotten a guitar and quickly realised his dream of becoming a rock star. After meeting Alex Mercer and Reggie Peters in middle school, the dream slowly became reality. Sunset Curve was born. (Y/N), on the other hand, took on violin instead.

As time passed, they slowly began to grow apart. One would describe Luke’s style of music and dress as more rock n’ roll grunge. (Y/N), however, looked the total opposite, elegant, poised, which could also be heard through her playing throughout the neighborhood. (Y/N) listened to classical music and took ballet lessons while Luke continued his guitar lessons and went to ice hockey practice. It seemed like after all this time, the two had nothing in common anymore.

Now they were in high school and they barely knew the other existed anymore. The only times Luke saw (Y/N), even though they were still neighbours, was when they ran into each other in the hall or if they just so happened to leave for school at the same time, which these days was very rare. (Y/N) was quite the early riser, and was often already off on her way while Luke was still lying in bed half asleep. Though they had two classes together, they hardly spoke to each other. It was as if their friendship before this had meant nothing.

Sometimes Luke missed the old days. Back then, (Y/N) didn’t seem too different from him. He could still remember them sitting in his treehouse, sharing gummy bears and listening to an old Led Zeppelin album. Now all she ever seemed interested in was studying. But even despite their different paths, they talked to each other from time to time. Their parents, on the other hand, were still very close. Occasionally they met at one of their homes, cooked together, talked about their jobs and even more so about their kids. Luke had learned from his parents that (Y/N) planned to go to Harvard once they graduated. Of course, when they told him that, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knew his parents wished he had the same or at least similar plans for his life. But Sunset Curve was finally starting to take off. After they played their first gig at a small bar in L. A., more and more bars and clubs were willing to let them perform. Luke had loved rehearsals before, now they were even more fun, especially knowing that they’d get to perform their new songs in front of more people than just Bobby’s parents. Bobby became a part of the band when he moved to L. A. four years after they had formed. With Bobby’s arrival the band not only found a rhythm guitarist, but also a place to rehearse. Before that, they had to rehearse in Reggie’s basement, between boxes and useless junk. Then of course his parents constantly fighting upstairs didn’t make for the best working environment.

Whenever Luke fought with his parents and just needed space to clear his head, there was no better place for him than a small shed in Bobby’s backyard which they had affectionately dubbed their studio. The words from his parents still rang in his ears as he pulled out his bike, guitar case slung over his back.

“Why can’t you be more like (Y/N)?! She has good grades and a bright future at Harvard!” His mother had wailed.

“Being a rockstar is not a realistic goal, it won’t bring you any money or stability.” His father tried to convince him.

Every time it was always the same. Luke jumped onto his bike and made his way through the backyard towards the gate, when he stopped in his tracks. In the corner of his eyes he could make out a dark figure, running through the yard next to his. At the end of the driveway, he could make out the lights of a car, shining through the trees and the figure running towards it. When the figure finally came into the light, Luke could finally see who it was. She turned around, taking one last look at the house behind her before she opened the car door and got in before promptly speeding off into the darkness. Who did (Y/N) just leave with?

Luke was tired the next morning. Despite spending the night in the studio, far away from the trouble with his parents, the young guitarist hadn’t slept a wink. His mind was racing with thoughts of (Y/N) and the mysterious person she had left with. During their lunch break at school, he told his band members of the encounter. “Wait, you mean to tell us that (Y/N), the definition of the perfect daughter, snuck out?” Bobby asked in disbelief.

Luke nodded. “Yep, got into a car with someone. Can’t say for certain who it was.” The eyes of the four guys wandered to said girl, who was sitting with her friends at a table not far away from their own.

“I’ll dip into the school gossip and see what I can find out. I’ll deliver the goods.” Alex smirked. And deliver he did at their band practice later that day. “So you know Tori, the girl who sits next to me in chem class and never shuts up? She told me that she heard from one of her friends, who was told by one of his friends that (Y/N) was spotted with Brandon Jones in the back of the library.”

“Brandon Jones?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alex nodded “Yeah, the captain of the football team who always drives a really expensive car.”

“How do they even know each other? Isn’t he usually on the brink of suspension?” Reggie asked curiously to which Alex shrugged.

“Well, well, well, seems like your little (Y/N) likes bad boys, Luke.” Bobby laughed, while throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders.

Luke quickly shrugged it off with a grimace. “She’s not my (Y/N).” He snapped. “It just surprises me that she sneaks out to meet him. That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you know her so well after barely talking to her for years and only making eyes at her from afar.” Bobby countered.

“I’m not making eyes at her!” The guitarist defended himself much too quickly to be believable. Back in the day when he still was friends with (Y/N), he may have had the tiniest of crushes on her. Luke had to admit that (Y/N) was indeed very beautiful, but he most certainly wasn’t making eyes at her as Bobby had suggested.

A few days passed. Luke sped through the house looking for his jacket so he could get going to band practice, which he was already running late for. “Mom, Dad. I’m going to Bobby’s” He shouted through the house, hoping his parents had heard him. Finally finding his jacket under his bed, he shrugged it on as he made his way through the kitchen.

He was about to open the back door, when his mom appeared behind him. “Don’t you have a french test to study for? (Y/N)’s father told me about it.” Emily looked expectantly at her son, arms crossed over her chest.

Luke rolled his eyes and turned around. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to Bobby’s. We’re gonna study together.” He lied convincingly.

Emily nodded slowly, a bit skeptical. “(Y/N) studies every night alone and gets good grades. Maybe if you would just concentrate more, you could study alone, too.” Emily suggested. Luke laughed silently. (Y/N) studying every night? That was rich, if only her parents really knew their daughter.

Luke mentally shook his head out. “Sure, but Bobby is better in french than I am. So he can help me. Work smarter not harder, isn’t that what they say?” He shrugged.

Emily looked at him thoughtfully. “You could study with (Y/N). She’s nearly fluent in French now.”

Luke nodded, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he opened the door. “I’ll think about it, alright? Now I really have to go!” He quickly said and made his way outside, slamming the door behind him. He couldn’t be late, after all Sunset Curve was playing another gig tonight. Luke took his bike from its spot against the fence and made his way towards the gate to the front yard when he suddenly saw a figure out of the corner of his eye again. Her hair was flowing in the wind as she quickly made her way through the darkened yard only this time instead of just watching, Luke went after her. Before (Y/N) could reach the car that was waiting for her behind the trees, Luke touched her shoulder. Startled, she let out a yelp of surprise as she spun around. “(Y/N)?”

“L-Luke...hey.” She laughed nervously.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked her confused, he was half expecting her to be up in her room studying like the perfect little princess she was.

(Y/N) clasped at his wrist and pulled him behind the trees, out of the sight of her house. “Don’t you dare tell my parents about this!” She hissed at the guitarist through gritted teeth.

Luke laughed. “What? That their little princess is sneaking out?”

“I’m not a princess!” She angrily countered.

Luke shook his head “Nah, you’re right, you’re clearly the living definition of a goody-two-shoes. Such a good girl, eager to please.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes “You clearly forget everything you thought about good girls.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly a voice interrupted both of them “(Y/N) you’re coming?” Brandon Jones, cool as ever with a cigarette poised elegantly between his lips, sat in the car beside them, looking with raised eyebrows at the girl in front of Luke.

(Y/N)’s gaze wandered between the two boys “I gotta go.” She murmured as she opened the car door. But before getting inside she paused and turned to Luke again. “Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.” She winked as she got into the car immediately rolling down the window. “Now be a good boy and just turn around and forget about this encounter, alright?”. With that, she sped off leaving the guitarist standing there dumbfounded. Luke shook his head in disbelief, what had just happened?

When he arrived at Bobby’s, (Y/N) words were still running laps through Luke’s head. He was quick to tell the rhythm guitarist about the encounter. “‘Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught’.” Bobby murmured.

Luke nodded. “That’s what she said. Sounds pretty rad don’t you think?” He looked at the other guitarist who nodded in agreement. “Yeah...” Suddenly it was extremely and rather awkwardly quiet. “Do you think that they-” Luke started.

“Are seeing each other?” Bobby finished his friend’s question, the lead guitarist nodding in confirmation. “Would it matter?”

Luke shrugged. “I mean, I just don’t want her to see her being pressured into something she doesn’t want to.”

Bobby laughed quietly. “OR you just don’t want her doing anything with Brandon.”

“Okay, I am definitely not jealous!” Luke countered, shaking his head.

“I never said you were, but now that you mention it…”

“Oh shut up...besides I’ve barely spoken to her in years!”

“But people don’t really change that much!” Bobby countered.

Luke huffed dramatically. “Well she did!”

“I don’t know about that, bro. Sneaking out? Doesn’t really sound like the (Y/N) we know from school.” He paused a moment. “The (Y/N) you knew when you were younger, the one you’ve told me about, that’s her down to the letter.” He shrugged as rose from his spot. “But enough about this. We’ve gotta go pick up Alex and Reggie. Otherwise we’re going to be late!” Luke quickly nodded, grabbing his guitar before following Bobby outside.

The club was completely packed with people. Luke could hear the audience’s chattering from backstage. “This is so cool!” Reggie excitedly said after taking a look through the club. “There are so many people here from school, too!”

Luke took a deep breath. Adrenaline was starting to course through his veins. He could practically hear his heart beating in his chest as the band made their way onto the stage. He blinked a few times as he tried to get used to the spotlights. His gaze drifted down through the crowd in front of them as they quickly set themselves up. Suddenly he stopped. At the back, right next to the bar, there she was standing. Their eyes met and a small smile played around her lips. Luke laughed to himself quietly before taking a step closer to the mic. “We’re Sunset Curve!”

After their gig, Luke made his way through the crowd. Everytime someone patted his shoulder to tell him how good they were, she nodded thankfully but his eyes always stayed fixated on (Y/N). When he finally stood in front of her a giggle left her lips “Good show, Patterson.”

He smirked, leaning against the bar. “Thanks.”

“Just like we imagined when we were kids.” She slightly bumped against his shoulder.

The guitarist felt his heart beat faster at this. Nervously he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess.”

“So that’s what you’ve been up to all this time...?” She quietly asked, her gaze drifting through the crowd. Luke nodded in reply. “And soon you’re gonna be famous!” She smiled suddenly much more excited.

Luke laughed “I think that’s still a long way off. What about you? What’ve you been up to?” He asked her curiously.

“Oh, you know violin and ballet lessons, the usual. I haven’t told my parents yet that I’m sick of it!” She nonchalantly took a sip from her coke and looked at him.

Luke furrowed his brows, he was genuinely confused. “I thought that’s what you liked? I mean you got your violin around the same time I got my guitar.”

(Y/N) shook her head “I practically begged my parents to get me an electric bass so we could form a band but they got me a violin. Said it would be better for me.”

Luke was surprised at those words. “A band?” He saw (Y/N)’s cheeks taking on a pink shade.

She shrugged. “Like Led Zeppelin.” Suddenly ‘Whole Lotta Love’ started to blast through the speakers of the club. (Y/N) laughed “That’s creepy. Like they’ve been listening to us talk about it.”

But Luke barely listened to her. Instead he had been transported back to 1987. He had just found the old Led Zeppelin EP in one of his dad’s boxes he kept into the attic. He had immediately called (Y/N) to meet him in the treehouse. They had been listening to the songs when suddenly (Y/N) had told him about her best female friend (Y/F/N), who had told her that she had kissed Fynn, a boy from their class. “Like a real kiss? On their lips?” Luke had asked with wide eyes. He, of course, had asked her if she ever had kissed a boy on the lips. (Y/N) had admitted that she had never. In her childish recklessness, or could it be her boldness, she had told him that he was the only one who she would have wanted to kiss. Luke remembered how nervous he had been, when (Y/N) had leaned in, ‘Whole Lotta Love’ playing in the background when their lips touched but for a short second.

Luke looked wide-eyed at the girl in front of him, who didn’t know the memory that was playing in his head at the moment. His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips. Maybe Bobby had been right. Maybe (Y/N) hadn’t really changed that much and maybe he still had those feelings he had for her when he was smaller. He quickly shook his head. He couldn’t have those thoughts. (Y/N) was here with someone else. “So where’s your shadow?” He asked, referring to Brandon. He turned to the bar to order a coke.

She sighed “Having a smoke.”

“Already missing him?” He laughed.

(Y/N) huffed, slightly annoyed. “Yeah, sure.”

“I thought you were a thing?” Luke asked, turning to her again.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows “Who told you that?”

“Nobody. I just thought because you always sneak out to meet him and because you’re here together…?” He shrugged.

(Y/N) laughed. “No, I mean it’s fun to hang out but I would never...I mean...he’s a player and only plays with girls.”

Luke looked at her amused. “So you’re just hanging out with him for the sake of hanging out?” (Y/N) nodded.

“I was just tired of everything. Of my life. It seemed like a good escape, you know? But now...it’s really hard to make it clear to him that nothing will ever happen.”

“Just be careful, alright? I don’t think he’ll let you get off the hook so easy.”

(Y/N) shook her head “Soon he’ll get tired of me and look for someone else.”

“And what about you then?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and turned to him, something obviously weighing heavily on her mind. “Luke, I-” She started, but before she could finish her sentence they were interrupted as an arm found his way around (Y/N) shoulder.

“I’m back.” Brandon smirked, eying Luke suspiciously.

“Hey Brandon.” Luke smirked, annoyance evident in his gaze, before turning to (Y/N) again. “It was nice catching up, (Y/N). See ya around.” With that he made his way through the crowd, trying to stop himself from thinking about (Y/N).

Days passed. Once again, Luke barely saw (Y/N) apart from their classes. He was sitting in his room, writing down the lyrics to a song that had been stuck in his mind for days, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He ran down the hall of the family’s ranch style home and was met with her beautiful eyes, when he opened the door. “(Y/N)! So good to see you!” Emily greeted with a big smile, appearing behind Luke. “Come on in.” Luke stepped aside to let the girl inside. With a questioning glance, he looked to his mother. “I called (Y/N)’s parents to ask if she could help you in french. I think that would be better than having to go all the way to Bobby’s, right?”

Luke nodded slowly “Uhm, yeah. Sounds good. Uhm, we could go into my room?” He suggested, looking at Emily.

His mother nodded “Yes, but leave the door open. I’ll bring you some snacks.”

Luke nodded in agreement and turned to (Y/N). “Shall we?” (Y/N) nodded in reply and followed him down the hall to his bedroom. “Take a seat, I guess.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk as he took a seat on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you in french.” She laughed.

Luke nodded slowly, a sly, teasing smirk appearing on his face. “And, uh, is Brandon alright with you hanging out with me?”

“Who cares?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “Right after your concert I told him I couldn’t see him anymore.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“As I already told you, at first it was just an escape but...he wanted to do more the entire time and I just didn’t want to...at least not with him.” She laughed.

Luke looked at her, a playful glint in his eye. “Not with him, huh? So someone else has caught your eye then?” he laughed.

(Y/N) shrugged, casting her glance downward. “Maybe. But that won’t happen, so…”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) sighed, nervously keeping her gaze trained to the ground, before looking up at him again. “Luke...you see...I know we haven’t had that much contact over the last few years, but...I wish it was different and I’m sorry. I thought...well I had hoped...“ She paused, inhaling deeply. “Maybe we could start over? Being friends again?” She asked, hope evident in her voice.

Suddenly Luke felt his heartbeat just a tiny bit faster. “Friends?” He croaked, before clearing his throat. “You mean like back in the day?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, and uhm maybe…” She nervously played with the necklace around her neck. Luke’s eyes drifted to the pendant. It was the necklace he had given her when she had turned seven. Inside it he had put a picture of the both of them. (Y/N) eyes softened when she saw what Luke was looking at. She took the chain from around her neck and slowly took his hand, placing it in his palm. She looked expectantly at it before looking up at him. Luke opened it and found himself looking at his and (Y/N)’s younger selves. In the picture he had his arm slung around her shoulders. Both of them were smiling brightly.

Luke sighed as he smiled at the memory of that day. “I had a little crush on you back then.” He admitted quietly, staring at the toothy grin of her younger version.

“You did?” (Y/N) asked.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the picture. “I was so sad when we stopped talking, but it...it had just happened, right?”

“I wish it hadn’t...I uh...I had a crush on you, too.” she murmured.

Luke laughed quietly, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. “So if we want to go back to how it was then…”

“You would have a crush on me?” (Y/N) smiled hopefully.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe I still do.” He felt his cheeks heating up as (Y/N) clasped at his hands.

“Maybe I still have a crush on you, too.”

Luke’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes met (Y/N)’s and he couldn’t stop his smile from growing wider if that was even possible. “Just maybe?” He asked cheekily, as he slowly leaned in closer.

“Alright, so definitely.” (Y/N) giggled as their lips connected in a tender kiss.

“Please, you have to come!” Luke whispered into the phone in the kitchen where the landline was. It was already dark inside the house, his parents already having turned in for the night.

“Okay, fine. But you tell my parents that you have a good influence on me the next time they see us.” She laughed through the speaker, before hanging up.

They met behind the trees at the back of their yards. He leaned in to greet her with a short kiss. “I missed you.” He murmured, hiding his face into her neck.

“We just saw each other a few hours ago.” (Y/N) laughed.

“That’s so long ago!” He countered as Luke got onto his bike and looked expectantly at (Y/N), who stood on the tire spokes behind him. “Hold on tight!”

The venue was filled with people dancing and chattering. (Y/N) followed Luke to the side of the stage. “Stay here so you’ll have a good view of the stage and that way I can see you, too.” He said, looking at her with a wide smile.

“Knock ‘Em dead, rockstar!” She beamed at him, leaning in to give him a good-luck kiss.

“Alright, enough of that lovebirds. We gotta go!” Bobby laughed, interrupting the cute moment pushing Luke toward the stage.

Reggie smiled at them. “Look at all the people! It’s gonna be sick!”

Alex shrugged nervously. “I hope they like us...”

(Y/N) smiled at the other band members “You’re gonna rock this, I’m sure of it!” She hugged them and wished them good luck, before the band went onto the stage.

Luke’s gaze immediately fell to his girlfriend, who gave him a thumbs-up. He winked at her before getting closer to the mic. “Hey, we’re Sunset Curve, thank you for having us.” The crowd erupted in cheers. “Thank you.” He laughed “We directly wanna start with a new song. It’s inspired by a person who means the world to me.” His gaze fell to (Y/N) again, who was smiling at him. “It’s called Good Girls/Bad Girls.”

“She said to me forget what you’ve thought, cause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.”

#luke patterson #charlie gillespie #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson x fem!reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #sunset curve

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tired-college-student-writing · 5 years

Text

#WayneAngel: Chapter 2

The Maribat AU by @ozmav and @maribat-archive is all I can think about atm, so enjoy more of this

Summary- After Grayson posts a video on the wrong twitter, Damian feels like he should lose his social media privileges, and possibly his hand.

Part 1

Part 2 (HERE)

Part 3

______________________________________________________________________

Wayne’s Angel @FashionableInGotham

Thanks for outing my relationship, Dick, now I owe Tim money.

Marinette paused realizing that no one was going to believe the lone tweet, even as she hit send on the first post of her new twitter account. There were probably a hundred fake accounts popping up already in light of the news. Thousands of theories on her were already flying around the net.

She probably had a zillion texts from her classmates about the video, but she had taken one look at the group chat and missed calls she had gotten from Alya and turned her phone onto do not disturb. She’d check for texts from her actual friends later.

She sighed and stuck her head outside, and was only mildly surprised seeing the two middle Wayne boys stilling sitting on the patio.

“You guys are still out here?” She asked, only for Jason to flip her off and Tim just bleary lifted his head up, having been taking a nap in the sun like a cat.

“Easy boy,” She soothed Jason, “I’ve just come to tell you the kitchen is no longer off-limits, and that Damian is attempting to murder Dick.”

“What did Dickie do?”

Instead of answering Jason’s question she held up a blue bill between two fingers, “Oh I also owe Tim this,”

She watched Tim pause mid-yawn and eyes flash to her before his eyes grow large and he cracked up laughing.

Jason slipped into a cheeky smirk, “No…”

“Oh yes,” Marinette sighed, “Dick accidentally uploaded the video he took earlier to his public twitter, instead of his private one. #WayneAngel and #MariDami are both trending right now.”

“The demon spawn might actually succeed in killing him this time,” Tim gasped out, snatching the bill from her.

“Not on Alfred’s birthday, he won’t,” She giggled back before holding up her phone, “Either way, mind helping me enter the celebrity Twitter scene? I feel there’s going to be lots of clean up involved, but I figured the sooner I’m officially introduced the better, but I need someone to confirm I’m me on there.”

Tim pulled out his phone, “One introduction tweet coming right up.”

Tim Drake Offical @TJDrake

Thanks, @AFlyingGrayson for fucking up and winning me the bet with on who would out The Demon spawn’s relationship!

Anyways, Just wanted to introduce @FashionableInGotham as my actual favorite sibling and the Demon spawn’s real, flesh and blood, girlfriend, Marinette.

With the tweet was a picture that Tim had snapped of the three of them chilling on the porch, Marinette perched on the armrest of Tim’s chair as the boy waved the banknote in front of the lens, Jason smirking as he gave the young girl bunny ears.

It’s a very endearing picture, in her opinion and was ranking in retweets in a heartbeat. Her follower count was climbing from the seven Waynes. Marinette wasn’t going to ask how Tim managed to hack twitter to make the missing Waynes follow her, she really didn’t want to know.

Plausible Deniability and all that.

The tweet was followed quickly by one from Jason.

Jason Todd Lives @BestTodd

Yes the brat has a girlfriend

Yes I lost the bet on if he’d follow in Bruce’s footsteps

Yes that’s my real reaction to her picking me up

Yes she’s is that adorable irl, Proof vvv

Yes @FashionableInGotham is my unofficial baby sister and I will fuck up anyone that upsets her

The picture he attached as proof of her being adorable was of her working on a piece, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she concentrated. The reds and purple laying in pieces around her as she snipped and sewed them together. Behind her, you could barely make out Tim and Damian arguing on her chaise.

There was a sudden bang as the patio door was hung open and Dick tumbled through, phone in hand, with Damian still following him, but the knife had been replaced with his sword.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were introducing Marinette on twitter!” The eldest whined as he continued to dodge Damian’s strikes. Damian stilled, turning to his other brothers.

“You what!”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Easy Damian. It was my idea. Get a good image out there before people have too much time to theorize about how I wormed my way into the elusive Waynes.”

Tim just snorted, “Ah yes, Marinette the masterful gold digger who had no idea she was dating the Damian Wayne for the first two months of their relationship.”

The other boys laughed as Marinette’s face turned bright red.

“You promised not to bring that up again,” SHe whined as her boyfriend came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her.

“You know you love us, Angel,” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss into her hair, pointily ignoring the fake gagging from Jason and Tim.

“Sooooo” Dick drawled, bringing everyone attention to him, “We have about an hour we need to start dinner, and two before he and B get back. Who’s up for a little twitter QnA?”

_______________________________________________________________________

The group chat was too hectic to keep up with anymore, no one was sure what was happening, until Chloe texted each of them individually and offered up a conference room at her family’s hotel for them to gather and go over what was happening.

She was a little surprised that they all agreed, especially Lila. The gig was up, there wasn’t a way for her to convincingly spin this turn of events, not when the Wayne’s were already rushing to social media to defend the girl after the video accidentally went up, introducing her under a brand new twitter.

If anyone saw that the blonde was already following said twitter, she’d claim it was to keep up with any drama that unfolded from little miss no one dating a Wayne.

After all, she had an image to keep up, she couldn’t just...

“Chloe?”

Her head snapped up to see Adrian standing in the doorway.

“How on earth did you get here so fast?” She asked with a raised brow.

He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck, “I... might of snuck out...”

She laughed, “Knew school would be good for you.”

He grinned sliding into the seat next to her, making her relax.

Their relationship had been rocky for a while, but after Queen Bee made her official debut, they were working through it. She couldn’t deny the fact that his eyes glowed as she tried her best to be a better person made everything easier

“So have you abandoned your ridiculous high road principle?” She questioned, watching him flinch slightly.

“You know I didn’t...”

“Yeah, Yeah,” She sighed waving her hand, knowing it was still a sore spot to him that Marinette had taken the advice so poorly before Chloe stepped up and explained what he had meant.

Keep your head down, don’t draw attention to yourself. Messages that had been instilled into Adrian for years, both to keep out of the media spotlight and, after his mother disappeared, to stay at of his father's way. Lies had never been an issue to him since rumors were always flying around the model and the people he worked with, so while it took him a while to see that the lies that Lila told were different than those written in the gossip columns and were actually doing harm.

Let’s just say the boy was still beating himself up for that, even if Marinette forgave him. Sadly it was too late to have Adrian come forward on his own to out Lila without it looking like Marinette had just gotten him under her thumb so they had been waiting for their chance.

Chloe was glad to say that that day had finally come.

“Did you know Damian was the boy Mari talked about?” He asked quietly.

“No,” She sighed, “Luka and Kagami had no idea either, you’d know this if you bothered looking at your phone.”

He shrugged, leaning over her shoulder, “I left it at home, Dad tracked me last time I snuck out with it.”

She huffed a laugh handing over the phone so he could see the... colorful texts from the pair.

“I didn’t know Kagami knew any swears in French,” He confessed after scrolling through the group chat.

“My money’s on her learning them from Ms. Couffaine,” Chloe offered lazily, “That woman swears like a sailor.”

“She lives on a boat,” Adrian counters, “I think that qualifies her as a sailor.”

“Whatever,”

They lapsed into silence as Adrian clicked over to the entire group chat to see if he could make any sense out of it now that the flow of incoming texts has trickled off.

“Are you okay?” She suddenly asks making him arch a brow, gazing up from the phone.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your lady is in love with someone else.”

Adrian smiled softly.

“I accepted that awhile ago Chlo,” He reminded her, back to the day they were all too close when time ran out, when the five of them could no longer hide, “I’m very happy to be her best friend, plus I’ve been thinking that I might look what the cat can drag-in”

She groaned, whacking him, “You’re ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

“Like you weren’t wondering if you’d be a good snake charmer.”

She squeaked, swatting him again harder as he fell off his chair with laughter.

“I told you that in confidence, not so you can make stupid puns!”

“Oh come on Chloe, don’t throw a hissssy hit,”

“I’m a bee, so buzz off!”

They stared at each other before breaking down into giggles.

“I hate you,” She whines through the pearls of laughter.

“No you don’t,” He waggled his eyebrow making her laugh harder.

Knowing he won he glanced back at her phone only for his smile to twist into a wicked grin.

“Tone down the Chat in that grin or people will put it together,” She warned, poking his cheek.

“Marinette and the Wayne boys just said they’re doing a QnA under #Daminette.”

Chloe blinked a few times before her smile twisted to match his, “There’s a projector in here and we have about five minutes until anyone else gets here.”

“I’ll grab your laptop and make sure Plagg and Pollen come down from your room,” Adrian said, climbing to his feet.

“I’ll call Luka and Kagami and ask them to be prepared, and then get Jean to get refreshments and inform Jagged Stone of what’s happening,” She assigned to herself before he nodded and took off.

Operation Dethrone Lila was officially underway.

About fucking time

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @kceedraws @northernbluetongue @starry-bi-sky @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @lexysama @vincentvangoose

#miraculous ladybug #batman #maridami #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #Tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #Damianette #chloe bourgeois #adrian agreste #lila rossi #lila gets exposed

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javierpenaspinkshirt · 4 years

Text

Other Lives

Chapter two: Stay Close

Mando x OC

Warnings: Vague mentions of assault. Gross handsy boy in a bar. Icky formatting.

Words: 3.2k.

Summary: Mando finally agrees to let Tee acompany him on a bounty hunt. Who knew he was the protective sort?

A/N: the second chapter of the Other Lives series (title based on this song). Thanks for reading (and thank you for 500 follows)🖤

Chapter one: Deal

Chapter two: Stay Close

It had been four weeks since Tee had agreed to join Mando on a trial basis. They had travelled countless miles together in that time, getting to know each other as crew mates. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Tee really liked the Mandalorian. She found him alluring, she was curious. He talked about himself and seemed to really enjoy a conversation while he sat in the pilot’s chair. But he had not yet allowed her to join him on a hunt for a bounty. The few he’d had since they met he had done solo, insisting she wasn't ready yet and should stay on the ship.

‘So where are we going now?’ she questioned.

‘Tattooine, desert planet, used to have a pod racing circuit but I don’t think they do that anymore’ Mando sighed a little.

‘Desert you say? So my speciality?’ Tee’s eyes glinted and Mando spun round to look at her in the co-pilot’s chair.

‘Tee..’ his voice warned.

She grinned at him and rubbed her hands together. He lowered his helmet and laughed.

‘I know what you’re going to say, Tee but it’s not safe’.

‘Come on!’ She whined, letting the syllables drag ‘it’s a desert planet! I’m a desert dweller! This is my moment, Mando! Let me come with you! Who’s the bounty?’

He sighed and relented a little, she had noticed he wasn’t all that good at saying no to her when she mock begged.

He handed her the bounty puck and showed her how to activate it.

The image of a Twi’lek flashed up.

Mando knelt next to Tee’s chair and read the instruction to her, ‘he’s an ex associate of the leader of the old Hutt Clan, he’s been on the planet since the fall of the Empire but he owes a lot of money to someone powerful, probably a protection racket he hasn’t paid, he’s a spoiled rich kid but he’s burned his bridges and lost all his friends, so we have to go get him’.

Tee spun round so she was staring Mando right in the visor, eyes wide, ‘we?’

He nodded, ‘we, but if I think the situation is getting hostile or it gets out of hand I want you out of there faster than you’ve ever moved before’.

Instinctively Tee leaned down and wrapped her arms around Mando’s neck and embraced him, mumbling her thanks into his shoulder.

He groaned in surprise before eventually bringing his right arm up to pat her shoulder.

She let him go but kept a hand on the cool metal of his left pauldron, her smile the brightest he had seen yet.

‘Captain Mando, I will not let you down’ she mimicked a military salute then launched herself from the chair and down to the hull to change her clothes and get ready for her first bounty hunt.

Mando stayed where he was, squatted on his haunches next to the co-pilot’s chair. A little taken a back at first, it had taken him awhile to realise that Tee wasn’t being deliberately touchy-feely, she was just a tactile person. Part of it, she had explained, stemmed from coming from a ‘cuddly family’, he remembered the way she sighed wistfully as she said it. She was used to showing affection through touch, something very new to the heavily armoured Mandalorian.

But he’d gotten quite used to it. He wasn’t ready to reciprocate just yet, it was still too new to him. But thankfully she didn’t seem to take offence, in fact it made her all the more ‘touchy’ as their friendship grew. He enjoyed the way she’d lay a hand on his shoulder as she spoke to him while he was piloting and he liked that she would pulled him into a vice-like embrace when she was excited or happy.

They hadn’t known each other long enough to have seen each other truly sad or angry, but two weeks ago a bounty had caught Mando with a blade and he had dragged the man back to the ship bleeding through his under shirt. Tee had watched as Mando froze the quarry in Carbonite and slumped against the wall of the hull, clutching his side and hissing at the pain.

It had thankfully only been a superficial wound and a bacta patch had fixed it in mere hours, but the way Tee had clung to his arm for the rest of the evening had sparked something in him. She’d fallen asleep in the co-pilot’s chair that night, not wanting him to be in the cockpit alone in case he needed anything. She lasted as long as she could but eventually she slipped into sleep and he had spun his chair to gaze at her.

He’d studied her soft features. Her eyes were closed but he knew they were deep brown, dark and sparkling like the legendary lakes of Endor. They held secrets he would hope to one day know and they were near impossible to say no to. Her skin was tan, smooth from years spent fighting against coarse sand and deceptively soft for someone who spent half their life underground and the other half in scorching sun. Her lips were slightly parted as she slept, that made him smile. He’d never spent this much time with someone who wasn’t also in full armour, not since he swore the creed anyway.

She was an education for him and he was an eager pupil.

He pulled his mind back and rose up off his haunches. He could hear her in the hull, humming as she clattered around, probably hunting for her boots. He knew she’d be awhile so he took the opportunity to remove his helmet.

He set it down gently on the control console and rubbed his eyes. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and blinked as his sight adjusted to the artificial light of the cockpit. He used to be able to walk around armour-free while travelling but he couldn’t risk that now Tee was with him.

She knew about the creed, she’d asked almost immediately once they’d set off from Jakku. He’d been very happy to indulge and told her all about his religion. He was proud of who he was, proud of his people. The pair had connected over the loss of family at the hands of the Empire. They’d shared stories of tragedy and defeat, the battle of Jakku, the purge of Mandalore. They were kindred spirits in so many ways. It was nice to have someone who understood him.

And crucially, she respected the way. Though she was tactile, she had never once over stepped his boundaries. She had accepted that he would not remove his helmet in front of her and she had simply smiled and repeated his mantra back to him – ‘This Is The Way’.

He liked her a lot and he would be sad if she did decide to go back to Jakku, but the sound of her singing and chatting to herself about her impending mission from the hull allowed him to hope that she would choose to stay.

His helmet back on and Tee’s boots found, Tattooine was in sight.

‘Are you sure about this?’ This was the sixth time Mando had asked.

Tee rolled her eyes and smirked at him, ‘yes I’m sure, I got this’.

Mando didn’t turn to look at her, just nodded as he focused on flying. They had dropped out of hyper space and were now only moments away from landing.

They docked at Mos Espa’s ship port and stood shoulder to shoulder as the door to the hull slowly dropped open. Tee stifled a smile as she felt the heat from Tattooine’s twin suns on her face, she loved the warmth. She resisted the urge to grab Mando’s hand and squeeze it in excitement and opted to keep it professional.

She was ready to stroll off the ship confidently, head held high when she felt his hand on her lower back. She snapped her neck up at him. He didn’t look down at her, just kept his eyes focused ahead.

‘Stay close to me’.

She nodded and they descended the ramp together.

It was hot in Mos Espa. Gloriously so. The sun on her face and the feeling of anticipation surging around her body had Tee feeling invincible. She was almost skipping, gliding along, focused on the job whilst simultaneously completely out of body.

Mando knew how she was feeling. The Adrenalin of his first hunt had caused him to make several mistakes. Of course he’d still caught his quarry, but he’d also sustained multiple injuries and the new knowledge that cockiness can get you killed. He’d learned the hard way, but he wasn’t going to let Tee suffer the same fate.

As they rounded the corner of a dusty street he grabbed her arm and pushed her up against the wall. Her eyes shot up to meet the visor, desperately searching for any kind of eye contact.

She got none but he spoke in a low and hushed tone, ‘you need to stick close to me, I mean it, Tee, you cannot be out of my line of sight, promise me’.

She nodded, eyes still searching for his, the excitement in her face fading.

‘We don’t know what we’re walking in to, it could be hostile, I need you to be ready for that alright? If it kicks off you get behind me and you do not let go of me’ he emphasised every word and Tee did her best to nod along convincingly. Mando was pushed up against her holding her arms by her side, she felt both threatened and protected all at once.

He let her go and stepped back, ‘let’s go’.

He lead her further down the crowded street, following the beeping and rapid blip of the bounty fob towards the cantina at the end of road. There was music floating from the windows and a spark of excitement was reignited in Tee as she saw the band playing through the window.

Mando held the door open for her and ushered her in, putting his hand on her lower back again.

The cantina was an assault on the senses. The band were loud but the sound of chatter was louder. The smell of alcohol was strong and the lights were almost fluorescent, they made Tee’s eyes sting. Mando guided her with his arm towards a booth. He sat her down then positioned himself in the one next to her. They were sat back to back in separate booths so as to appears as if they weren’t together, and sat just behind a pillar that would obscure them from view from most of the cantina floor.

Mando scanned the room and caught site of the Twi’lek bounty.

‘That’s him’ Mando motioned with his helmet, ‘he shouldn’t be too hard to get a hold of’.

The Twi’lek was twirling around, clearly inebriated, clapping and singing along to the band, barely holding himself up.

Mando stood up, ‘I won’t be long’.

Tee nodded and watched from her booth as the bounty hunter stalked confidently towards his prey, cape swaying and the Amban rifle very clearly displayed over his shoulder. This shouldn’t take long.

But as Tee watched on in awe Mando suddenly froze. Feet away from the still spinning Twi’lek, Mando had stopped dead.

Tee craned her neck and stifled a gasp as she realised that the gang sat at the booth near the Twi’lek were not just onlookers, but his companions. All of them had drawn blasters and had them hidden under the table they were crowded around, all pointed at Mando.

He carefully raised one hand and spun round to slowly walk back to Tee. He sat back down behind Tee with a loud sigh.

‘Turns out he’s still got friends’.

Tee laughed quietly and reached round the seats to squeeze Mando’s arm, ‘let me see what I can do’.

She got up before Mando could protest and made her way back to the wobbling Twi’lek. She wasn’t exactly dressed for dancing but she would do her best.

She began to sway to the music of the band and closed her eyes as she raised her hands up above her head, drawing the attention of all the gang members round the table.

A Mandalorian was an obvious enemy, head to toe in armour and weaponry, he would stand out in most situations and most certainly in a small town cantina. But a girl, twirling and spinning as if she was on her fourth spotchka could not be a more familiar sight in a bar.

No blasters were drawn but Tee could feel their eyes on her as she shimmied her hips and danced closer to the still moving bounty.

She bumped into him gently and fluttered her eyelashes at him, ‘hey, would you like to dance with me?’

The Twi’lek looked her up and down and flashed her a lascivious grin, ‘very much’.

He held out his hand for her and Tee took it, wrapping herself in his arms and throwing her head back in over-exaggerated laughter.

Mando stared from the other side of the cantina. If his jaw could have swung open it would have. He gripped the table edge so tight he thought he might snap it. He wasn’t sure what he was more upset about, Tee being able to sashay straight up to his bounty, or the fact that said bounty had his hands all over her.

She was giggling and running her hands over the Twi’lek’s shoulders making eyes at him as they swayed their hips to the beat. Mando gritted his teeth, but he couldn’t explain why.

Suddenly he watched her take the Twi’lek’s hand and motion to the back door. The bounty flashed that grin again and gladly followed her, motioning to his crew to stay put, he wouldn’t be long.

Mando stood up abruptly and left through the front door, he needed to find a way behind the cantina and fast.

The Twi’lek pushed Tee up against the wall with his full body weight against her. He began placing sloppy kisses up and down her neck, she could smell the alcohol on him.

'Hey, hey, slow down a little maybe?' Her request was met with a grunt.

Her mind skipped back to just half an hour ago when Mando had been the one pressed up against her, making her promise him that she would stay with him. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry that she’d blatantly disobeyed him. She also wished a little that it was him pushed up against her again.

‘What do you want from me, pretty girl? You want me to blow your mind right here against this wall?’ The Twi’lek’s words were slightly slurred and if anything turned Tee right off, but she obliged and giggled sweetly, praying that Mando had seen her leave.

He began to run his hands up Tee’s legs and push at the waistband of her trousers, despite her quiet protests, when a solid grip on his shoulder made the bounty leap. A heavy, leather clad hand clamped around the bounty’s mouth to prevent him from screaming as Mando pulled him off Tee and cuffed the squirming boy’s hands behind him.

Mando spun him round so he was facing the visor, ‘touch her again and I’ll cut off both of your arms’ he growled.

The Twi’lek whimpered but his drunk brain prevented him from attempting to escape.

‘You okay?’ Mando looked over the snivelling bounty at Tee.

She nodded and readjusted her belt, ‘lets go’.

Mando threw the Twi’lek over his shoulder in one fluid motion and the three of them ducked around the street corners as quickly as they could. Who knew how long it would be before the bounty’s friends began to worry.

The quarry began to cry as they arrived back at the ship port. Mando tossed Tee a pouch of credits before activating the ramp to the Razor Crest from his vambrace, ‘go pay for the dock, then come straight back’.

Tee nodded again as she watched him carry the now loudly sobbing bounty up into the depths of the hull. She had watched Mando carbon freeze a bounty a few times and if she was totally honest, it made her feel deeply uncomfortable. The horrifying expressions of the bounties was enough to turn her stomach, but not knowing whether they would be dead or alive when they were unfrozen was too much for her. She was grateful to Mando for not making her watch.

She paid the dock supervisor and slowly made her way back to the Crest. She couldn’t hear any crashing or screaming from inside so it was probably safe to board.

She tentatively made her way into the hull, deliberately avoiding looking towards the carbonite racks at the back. There was an eerie silence hanging in the hull knowing the weeping Twi'lek was now just a frozen lump of carbonite.

Tee closed the hull ramp and climbed up to the cockpit. Mando spun round in the pilot’s chair as soon as he heard her footsteps. He leant forward, elbows resting on his knees as Tee slumped down in her chair with a sigh.

‘You were amazing, Tee, quick thinking and so smooth!’ He was quick to praise and actually sounded impressed.

Tee let out an exhausted smile, ‘any excuse to break out my moves’ she leant forward and leant on her knees, her face close to his.

‘Are you okay, though?' Mando reached his hand out and cupped her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb in circles over her soft skin.

She closed her eyes and nodded, enjoying that he had learned that she found touch comforting, ‘I’m fine, actually that was quite good fun… well, the bit where you came and caught him anyway’.

Mando laughed then fell silent, his eyes raking over her body from behind the visor, remembering the way the Twi’lek’s filthy little hands snaked over her hips and across her shoulders. He didn’t deserve to be so close to Tee.

He sighed, 'Tee don't ever feel like you need to do something like that again, okay? I will never ever ask you to put yourself in harms way for a job, don't just brush this off as "this is how it is"' he made the quotation marks in the air with his fingers and earned a giggle from Tee.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Mando’s voice was soft and laced with concern.

Tee nodded, ‘I’m fine. It’s not the first time someone has gotten too handsy, you get used to it working in an all male environment’.

Mando’s heart lurched at the idea of his co-pilot having to deal with that kind of behaviour all the time, horrified at the idea of her small frame being pushed around and touched without her permission. In that moment he decided he would do anything to protect her from that.

'I'm serious, Tee, never put yourself in bad situations for me, ever' he brought his hand back to her face and tucked a wayward strand of her behind her ear then gently cupped her chin to force her to look directly at him.

'I promise' she murmured it softly but it sounded sincere, 'but I knew I was safe, I knew you'd come and get me'.

‘I’ll always come and get you' his sentiment was so genuine he almost caught himself unaware, but her grin put him at ease, he hadn’t over stepped.

Mando sat back in his chair and let out a sigh, 'So I guess you’ve proven your skills as my assistant then’.

‘Assistant?’ Tee snorted also leaning back in her chair, legs crossed and arms out on the arm rests, 'I saved your ass on this one! If anything you were my assistant’.

She earned a proper laugh from Mando who had no choice but to admit that he had underestimated this one. Sure he would have still got the guy, but it probably would've wound up in a fire fight that required several days recovery on his part.

‘Next time we go on a hunt, I’ll be sure to have your back’ she winked at him playfully.

‘Next time?’ Mando laughed, ‘so you’re not going back to Jakku then?’

Tee smirked, ‘no one goes to Jakku on purpose, Mando’.

Tag list: @opheliaelysia @keeper0fthestars

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mando #mando x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #mando fanfic #oc #pedro pascal #other lives

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janiedean · 4 years

Text

JB THE MUSICAL TENTATIVE SETLIST

... so this week me and a few anons were discussing crack plots and THIS came up, and now I sat down and I thought about it and hahaha here we go guys have what I came up with for the possible mamma mia!jb au except that it has springsteen songs instead of ABBA because that’s how I roll. this is the tag if anyone’s interested in what madness came out of that, but anyway I did come up with a plot with songs so here’s the thing.

the musical is obviously called tunnel of love because reasons.

people actually in it: brienne, jaime, their OC daughter [catelyn jr for this exercise], catelyn, tyrion, jon connington, loras, brynden tully, possibly selwyn

plot, numbers & so on:

ACT ONE

in pure rent style because I’m that bad with musical, we open with all everyone minor characters; save my love;

the scene opens in the island of tarth, where brienne is shown working at a bar covered in rock singers’ posters and getting helped by her seven year old daughter in the background cleaning tables or something, while her boss catelyn looks at her and tells her story; a good man is hard to find (pittsburgh) [obv with reworked lyrics];

cat jr goes back upstairs since they’re about to open, brienne asks for a small break, goes out on the beach, stares longingly at the ocean and wishes to have back the happiness she had once that while she loves her daughter she hasn’t quite managed to grasp yet though we still don’t know what it’s about; hello sunshine

brienne goes back to work, we move to cat jr - she wonders where her father ended up since brienne never told her who he was while she rustles through stuff in the attic and finds some half-faded letters sent to a couple men years ago and she wonders if one of them might be her father - she finds the addresses and writes them figuring that one of them might be and she wants to see her mother happy, so what’s the harm?; waitin’ on a sunny day;

first guy who arrives is joncon who tells her that no, he’s actually her godfather but he knew her mother for reasons and wonders at how long he’s been far from the island but he had to get over his bf who didn’t love him back; my hometown

second guy shows up and he’s renly who also confirms that he’s the other godfather and one of brienne’s oldest friends but maybe she should look a bit deeper to find her real dad and when she does things will go admittedly better - brienne will find her guy again same as he’ll find his guy at some point; two hearts;

cat jr goes back to the attic to look up for more clues and ends up finding a picture of brienne with two guys one of which was torn off but the other is there and wait he has her hair - it’s tyrion, who she assumes is her dad. she asks renly and jonc to help find the address and writes him and he gets there in time for her birthday, but when he arrives he tells her that no, the dad is actually his brother but he’s delighted to have a niece; surprise surprise;

at this point cat wants to know the backstory and why isn’t her dad there. the other three guys look at each other, sigh and tell her that well it happened years ago when they all were on vacation on tarth same as the whole of the lannister family....

IMMEDIATE FLASHBACK where we see younger jaime and brienne meeting at some beach party and jaime asks her to dance; tougher than the rest (jaime only);

she accepts even if she can’t believe it [he’s coming out of Bad Cersei Relationship News so he’s kinda fucked up but he honestly wants to leave her behind], they ended up having sex; cover me [jb duet];

later tywin finds out and forbids jaime from seeing her except that brienne who at that point wanted to be a singer and had regular gigs at catelyn’s bar comes up with a scheme to smuggle him out and have a night out with both tyrion’s help and the bar’s patrons etc; rosalita (brienne mainly + tyrion/jonc/renly + jaime getting himself dragged out of the house);

after that, they discuss running away together; thunder road (duet);

FLASHBACK ENDS, we’re back on the island where brienne finds out everyone showed up and she’s like yeah no I’m not calling him again, tyrion tries to tell her that it didn’t end badly because of the reasons she assumes, she cuts him short and says that she knows she’s going to end up alone and it’s fine, she always knew; when you’re alone;

at that point shit happened in between and renly started flirting with loras who’s another new bar patron, jonc started flirting with cat’s uncle, brienne is taking herself out of the equation, tyrion is flirting with bronn ie the local cop or something, ends up with choral number with reworked lyrics for spirit in the night, end act one.

ACT TWO

always rent style, opening number with everyone going for tunnel of love;

we open up straight somewhere else where jaime is on his own, living in some shitty small apartment having lost a hand after enrolling with the army after things went sour with both brienne and his family; born in the USA;

jaime muses about how things ended - basically cersei ruined stuff for them going to brienne and telling her about their rship and jaime had gone after her to call it quits after arguing with brienne on the beach about it but then brienne wouldn’t take his calls anymore and he never had the guts to go back. he receives a letter from tarth from tyrion who tells him he has half a chance in hell of fixing things and he hopes he can manage; back in your arms;

meanwhile on tarth cat jr is like shit this place is so boring will I ever get out of here did you three have such an interesting life until now, tyrion/jonc/renly explain her that when she leaves it’s better if she sticks to being herself rather than conforming to other people’s standards; growin’ up [all four of them]

meanwhile brienne is on her break again and is missing jaime horribly bc tyrion brought it all back and wishes she could get out of this damned impasse that her life became; badlands;

jaime arrives on tarth without brienne knowing and immediately meets his daughter and learns her middle name is actually jamie and realizes brienne named her half after him and is Overwhelmed As Fuck and swears that he’ll try to do right by her; living proof [both of them];

at that point though jonc and renly are like yeah we’re the godfathers though thank you and they all assure her that they’re going to be in her life; I’ll stand by you, [all three of them];

brienne finally learns that jaime is back and she’s not exactly that hyped because she thought he left her for c. and then she realizes he’s missing a hand and they have a heated-ish confrontation; for you [duet];

jaime is despairing that he’s ever going to win her back after she tells him he’s too late, everyone else assures him that if he goes for it convincingly he still has a shot; wrecking ball [everyone but jb];

jaime feels somehow better for that and gets his spirits back together; my love will not let you down;

jaime organizes things with cat and brynden so that evening while brienne is out serving drinks at the bar he shows up on stage like HEEEY I have to tell you something and tells her he still loves her and wants to get it started again between them; mary’s place [mainly jaime, everyone else does backup];

brienne is still like OH MY GOD SHOULD I, jaime proposes; i wanna marry you;

brienne decides that damn it she still loves him and he obviously means it so yeah sure she’ll marry him; leap of faith [jb mainly, everyone else choruses]

closing number with everyone having paired up etc with born to run.

... THERE THAT’S YOUR MUSICAL

#jaime x brienne #idk if any of you guys wants this madness on the tag but i worked too hard for it so #also: for anon vote we decided that brienne's dad owns a farm or smth and has a goose #who goes around on the premises #the goose is named bruce and has bitten off hyle hunt's clothes a lot #meanwhile jaime got a pet chicken or smth named rosalita post coming back from the war #that he totally brings with #obv bruce and rosalita will fall in love midway through act two #otp: i dreamed of you #idk how the fuck i should write this #BUT ANYWAY HAVE AT IT #jb the musical

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h3l10tr0p3 · 5 years

Text

Headcanon: Deku, the Serial Shipper

Contains- Mentions of sexual activities, established relationship - Bakudeku; Crack pairings- TodoIna, JiroMomo, UraTsuyu, UraTenya, DenkiSero, Kirimina, platonic Kiribaku etc.

(Beware- Long post)

Jesus Christ, I just had this HC and now I gotta spill, otherwise I won't be able to sleep tonight. Here's another annoying Long Post for y'all)

Deku, as a Pro Hero and Katsuki's Duo Partner, has a pretty hectic life since the media are crazy bloodhounds, the villains are a pain in the ass, interacting with fans becomes exhausting at times, and the critics are demons wailing for his blood.

Yeah, very hectic. And on top of that, there's very little time to relax. Most of the days he sneaks some solace in the gym, if he can buy more time he likes to read and immerse himself in his notebooks and research. Fighting Katsuki to blow some steam is a last resort to shed off weeks of frustration and only reserved for off-days or desperate times - because something like that inevitably devolves into gratuitous rough sex or worse, day-long fuck-a-thon. Not that Deku doesn't enjoy it, he simply doesn't have the time to indulge and he knows Kacchan doesn't either, so they try to keep their hands off each other unless the occassion begs for much-needed violent release.

But sometimes, you just want instant relief. Sometimes Deku just wants to kick back and relax like a normal person, go on the internet, without everyone hounding him for a piece of his mind.

So he does.

Under Anonymity.

Et viola @allmight9000 comes alive on several media platforms including Tumblr and Twitter. At first, Deku masquerades around as a hardcore All Might fan fighting anyone who dares to diss the retired Symbol of Peace . But since his retirement, his popularity has gone cold, not many heated debates take place around him anymore and as sad as this makes Deku, he decides to discover new venues.

Now, Deku knows there's this dark void of fanfiction lurking on the net and there's no escape from it should he ever set foot into it. He is also aware of the dark things that beckon him from the sewers like Pennywise the Dancing Clown (eg. All Might/Endeavour, Hawks/Endeavour, All Might Bowl, All Might/ Hero Harem, All Might/Midnight, All Might/Aizawa/Present Mic and so on), things he should rightfully keep a safe distance from. But this is fucking Deku we are talking about- ofcourse he dares to dip his foot into the murk of fanfiction.

For science, he thinks, and takes the plunge.

It all goes downhill from there.

One day, Katsuki comes back from his shift to find Deku face-planted into the sofa, he hasn't eaten lunch, hasn't bathed and is claiming trauma, repeatedly insisting that he has sinned and he is going to hell for it, then he shakily holds up a 367k word fic of Villain Might/Endeavour. Katsuki has to slap him back to his senses. Later that night, Deku calls up Toshinori and asks him for forgiveness, when Toshinori asks him worriedly, 'For what?', Deku assures him he DOES NOT wanna know.

After obsessively going through various tropes and completing every Enemies to Lovers / Mutual Pining / Unrequited Love fic there is (and there is a lot, Deku hates himself every day for it), waiting torturous weeks for dead authors to rise from the ashes for a teeny tiny update, Deku finally gives up his small lake of unfulfilling All Might ships (because frankly it's hard to find a fic that suits his tastes and convincingly fleshes out a love story around a man who has pointedly avoided romance for the better part of his LIFE or a find a fic which is COMPLETE) and sets out into the sea of Ships.

Bad Idea.

Very VERY Bad Idea.

(We know it, he knows it. Katsuki is the only one who is blessedly oblivious because he chooses not to wade into Deku's mental shit and compromise his own sanity.)

Strangely, Deku has come to take an odd satisfaction of returning to fan mentality of shipping two people without restraints (rarely more than two)-it's simple, senseless, easy. It gives his head a break from all the overanalyzing it does and gives him a small dose of endorphins when he cant work out, eat out or fuck out the frustration. He was adverse to it first, since these are strangers trying to ship two random people (people he is friends with), and it was unsettling to find so many people shipping them when they've BARELY had any interaction in canon real life! What's the premise of shipping them at all? He just didn't find any allure to it back then. So he kept his reads under fluff and under mature ratings because he feels uncomfortable reading smut about his friends.

But Deku had a 'Oh my God they were ROOMMATES' moment when Jirou and Momo announce that they are dating to the U.A. Alumni, that too after reading a really fluffy Creati/Earphone Jack fic which accurately referenced their public sightings together and spun it into plot-points quite masterfully. ( the author did a real good job on it) And the most horrifying thing about the fic, Deku finds, is the fact that NO ONE, not even the AUTHOR knows how correct they were in their estimates! No one except Deku.

That realization shakes the foundations of Deku's beliefs and morality as he wonders how many fics out there , sfw or smut, requited or unrequited love, enemies to lovers or lovers to strangers, fluff or smut have come so so close to the truth, been so damn close - like an alternate course of their love-story? and WHY IS NO ONE GIVING IT MORE KUDOS?

This is how Deku ends up being the most irredeemable Shipper of the universe- with a mission in hand:

To curate proof of all valid ships and to supply aforesaid proof of it to the world (as subtly as he can of course, so as to not compromise his own identity or the privacy of the Shipped.)

He begins to scour through the net for paparazzi photos, indulges in gossip, pries out information of who is dating whom from his Hero contacts, authenticates it, creates folders and subfolders of photographic 'proof' (they are just teasers really) and whenever anyone writes a fic that comes anywhere close to the real thing he makes sure to tag them in his tumblr/twitter post with photos which basically pour gasoline over their fiery passion to continue dreaming and writing fics around those Ships. Like:

You wrote a fic of Fluffy Iron Fist x Real Steel? Here you go- an obscure pic of them leaving her apartment together

Uravity x Ingenium and Uravity x Froppy? A love triangle that could possibly end in heartbreak?!! Damn, sistah, who knows? (She's confused too, imho) So here you go- Uravity getting tipsy with Froppy and Uravity snuggling to Ingenium under the rain.

One-shot of Chargebolt x Cellophane getting frisky in an alley? Honey, I gotchu. Here's a pic of them arriving at a villain scene together with dishevelled clothes.

All Might x Endeavour Slow Burn? My dear friend- here's a picture of the Symbol of peace roasting marshmallows with Shouto on flaming Endeavour merch. Please don't make me block you.

All Might x Midnight? Here's a pic of my mom, me and my Dad AllMight. Midnight, Who binch?

Celsius (Shouto) x Gale Force Stripper AU? Oh, hey, look I'm totally that one lucky guy who was in the right place at the right time, okay? I dont know these guys personally, OKAY? Not. At. All. But I have some Opinions™ about your fic? and pics to support it. Just wanna show you that maybe...i mean...MAAYYYYYYBEEEE...the stripper is Galeforce, not Celsius? Yeah? Don't worry though, You're doing good. Love the slow build, keep up the good work!

Deku becomes a sensational fic-writer-enabler and often gives inspiration to writers who are looking to write for a new fandom. Deku's got their backs.

He sinks so deep into this Shipping business that one day Katsuki catches wind of it. It was becoming painful to keep ignoring Deku's descent into madness. Katsuki was okay with it as long as the nerd did his job well and fucked him even better (which Katsuki will never admit to enjoying, even at gun point. Pull the trigger, you coward). So, yeah, Katsuki could have accepted all of Deku's weird stalkerish behaviours (even if they weren't fixated on him all the time anymore and the 'Kacchan, sugoi!' comments had plummeted drastically....who needs the shitnerd to validate his worth, right?! Right...it didn't make him pissed AT ALL. because admitting that would mean he enjoyed it, WHICH HE DID NOT, MIND YOU)

What Katsuki couldn't accept was Deku accidentally using his official Hero twitter handle to post a very platonic (but in the eyes of rabid fans- borderline homoerotic) pictures of him and Eijirou and posted it as #Ground_Riot. The fucking flood of Zeku-haters and pro-GroundRioters had the comments section on FIRE. The post goes VIRAL.

Deku, fucking DEKU, the man who is secretly ENGAGED to him, is promoting GroundRiot like NO ONE's business and HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT HE DID WRONG.

Katsuki finds Deku happily puttering around their shared apartment completely oblivious to the PR hell that has been licking at his heels. He immediately attacks Deku's account and is completely gobsmacked. Lo and fucking behold- every fifth picture in his blog is fucking GROUND RIOT.

Not just that, apparently, THIS MAN, his fucking FIANCE, is not only a renowned peacemaker in inane Ship wars, but is hailed as a Soothsayer of Ships for always correctly prophecizing "Ships that will Sail into the fucking Sunset', he is basically some minor god in the Hero fandom who is extorting excitement out of fic writers and fans alike so that 'the crime of incomplete fics' can be eradicated once and for all. And Deku's fucking commited to it.

(perhaps more commited to Ground Riot than his own betrothal because there isn't A SINGLE POST of ZEKU on his blog)

There's even a post where he answers an ask from anonymous. The question: "Are you also anti-Zeku? I have never seen you post anything related to that ship. Is it because you think it won't Sail?" And Deku answers shortly how he isn't explicitly Anti-Zeku, but doesn't like the idea of reading fanfics of that ship. He clearly witholds his opinion if the ship will sail or not. Katsuki also finds the chat which started all this shit.

Chat-

Hey! @allmight9000. I wanted to write a GroundRiot fic? Could you give me some inspiration?

Aww, sure! It's my favourite Ship tbh. I love GroundRiot. I have a whole gigabyte of inspirations in my laptop. I'll send you some when I get back home, okay?

Yup!!! I am actually a hardcore Zeku fan. But recently my friends got me into Ground Riot and I am addicted!! But Zeku will always have a special place in my heart <3

I see. :)

Do you wanna try it out? I know you mentioned you don't like it. But I know some REALLY good fics.

No thank you ^_^ I make it a point to not read those fics. I just can't visualize it working, you know?

Oh...np. Each to their own. But I really hope one day you try reading some if you can?

I don't think so ...😅...uh...but..Any preferences for your inspiration though? or genre youre interested in?

Fluffff!!

Haha, okay! Look out for the new post on my twitter!

YASSS!! Love ya!

You too!

Katsuki sees red, he's about to flip his shit when he decides to give Deku one LAST fucking chance to explain WHY THE FUCK is he promoting Ground Riot when he should be shipping Zeku and demands of him if he really wants their Fucking Ship To Sail Or Not.

Deku gets defensive and says of course he does. Katsuki asks why he has been trying to push him onto Eijirou all this time if he wasnt serious about it. Deku doesnt want to answer. Then Katsuki gets fruatrated and asks WHY the fuck didnt he post Zeku.

"Because I don't want to support it"

"We are literally fucking engaged, you moron. What the FUCK do you mean you don't support it?!"

"I support Us, Kacchan! I just don't wanna support Zeku-shippers! Those two things are different!"

"WHy dont you wanna support them?! tHere is No Difference!"

"There is! I am not obligated to do anything for you. But if I admit to shipping Zeku out loud to the shippers, then I'm obligated to post pictures of us and I know that if I start posting that then my blog will literally be a flood of just Us all over!!"

"What is WRONG with that?!!"

"WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ENGAGED IN SECRET! NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO KNOW! you said it yourself! That you don't like the useless yapping of reporters about your love-life where it isn't their business!"

"YEAH? WELL FUCK THAT!"

And Katsuki whips out his phone, takes a selfie of french kissing the hell out of Deku and immediately posts in on his twitter. Deku has hardly reeled back from that intense kiss when he realizes what Katsuki has done and he practically explodes in shame.

"Kacchan!! Our secret!"

"Your fucking fault, Deku. If I have to deal with the shitty extras at all, it better be for the right Ship, you dumbass. I'll punt you straight to China if I hear Ground Riot from your mouth ever again...capiche?"

"But I like Ground Riot...It's a valid ship, Kacchan. You cant diss on it just like that. It has wonderful scope, and the fluff in this ship is AMAZING. I think I have a soft spot for Uke!GZ and Soft!GZ now... and it is a really mutually productive ship unlike- hrmff!", Katsuki shuts him up with a smack to his mouth and sheds his shirt.

"Shut your mouth and strip, shitnerd. I'll fuck the Ground Riot out of you. Also, let's make this fucking clear that if you mention ANYTHING that goes anywhere near Eijirou's dick,ass, balls or mouth", Katsuki shivers, "then I'll wreck your dick, ass, balls and mouth. Remember that. Now STRIP"

"But what about platonically? That's a solid ship, right? Right, Kacchan? Also It doesn't mention Eijirou's- fuck!!!"

Deku gets wrecked thoroughly.

(Let's observe one moment of silence for his Shipping ass 🙏)

(r.i.p. Deku)

Katsuki later asks him why Deku doesn't read Zeku fics either, cause pretending to not like it to weasel out of obligation is fine, but it doesn't explain why he refuses fo read any either.

"A fic, especially the ones that I like, always are these perfect little stories which always have a happy ending. Can't help it, I'm weak to it, Kacchan- it's why I read fics at all, you know? For the rush of happiness and feels! It's always written with the intention that it will be perfect! And it is. But it doesn't come close to the real thing. There can be fics out there that come really close to what we really have though - but I refuse to accept that any fic could be better than the imperfectly perfect things I have with you, Kacchan. No matter what anyone insists, what I have with you is perfect to me. You are perfect to me. And that's all that matters."

Katsuki calls him an incorrigible sap and turns away to hide a violent flush that turns him red like a stop sign.

Omake:

Katsuki's #Zeku goes Viral too. But at this point no one understands what is going on or WHY. Because GZ appears to be a Zeku shipper when Deku is a GroundRiot shipper. Confusion abounds. Zac Efron memes agonize over Both ships, Captain America Japan Civil War Memes make a comeback. And for some reason, Deku keeps posting Ground Riot afterwards too and everytime he does, the next day he is seen limping.

"Did you have a hardtime with Zero-san at training yesterday?"

Before Deku can answer the one who asks him that, Eijirou comes up, winks and answers in his stead, "Very hard", and runs away to Mina's side before Deku has a shame-filled meltdown.

(The Ground Riot thing stops only when Mina and Eijirou get finally married.)

#bakudeku #katsudeku #katsuki x izuku #ktdk #bkdk #deku the shipper #humour #social media shenanigans #headcanon #fic idea #fanfic idea #too many headcanons #holy crap this was such a shit hc #deku ships kiribaku

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godrics · 5 years

Text

back to you

pairing mark lee x gender neutral reader

summary part 2 to eyes closed.

genre & theme angst, fluff ig

warnings none

authors note I realize I change past tense to present tense so like don't bother me abt that k also idk if the ending makes sense bc i really don't like it but yall really wanted a happy ending soooo here.

part one | part two

The world was out to get you, you were sure of it.

Everywhere you went, he was there. Going to the library to study? Sorry, he’s there studying, too! Going to class? He’s in the same hall at his locker/friend’s locker. Want a new pair of jeans? He’s there too, shopping for Christmas gifts for his family. Want some chicken? He’s there getting food for a party.

To say the least, you were pretty pissed about it.

Storming into your last class of the day, you went all the way to the back of the classroom -- avoiding your boy’s stare on you, but he didn’t follow you to your new seat. You dropped your backpack on the floor and sat down, putting your head on the desk, covering your eyes. You’d just seen him in the hall, and you knew he had the same class at this time, but it still pissed you off.

Why the fuck couldn’t Mark Lee and his perfect face stay away from you?

You vaguely heard the bell ring, but you didn’t lift your head from your desk as your teacher started to talk about the new Spanish work you had for today, slowly falling asleep until the door slammed open. Jumping, you and the rest of your classmates looked to the door, only to find Mark Lee looking sheepish.

“Sorry, Miss,” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to open it that much.” Rolling your eyes, you slumped in your seat, crossing your arms.

Your teacher sighed, “It’s fine. Take a seat, Mark.” You couldn’t see what Mark did, looking up at the ceiling before you realized what the teacher just said. Your head snapped back to the front, scanning the room and with horror, you realized the only free seat was beside you.

“No,” you whispered as you watched Mark’s legs move towards you. “Crap, crap.” Sliding down in your seat, you avoided eye contact and stared at your empty desk. This couldn’t be happening.

Mark slid into the seat on your right and you closed your eyes, feeling your heart beat faster. You continued to stare at your desk and didn’t look at him when he whispered to you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he whispered. Oh God, why was he talking to you? Didn’t he think just his presence was enough? “How are you?”

Jesus. “Fine.” You stiffly whispered, not looking at him.

“That’s good, so, uh, do you have a pencil I could borrow?”

Huffing, you leaned to the side and got a pencil for him, holding it out for him. You stiffened as you felt his hand touch yours, grabbing the pencil. Oh God, oh God. Why was this happening to you? You hadn’t done anything wrong.

Wait, was this because of that one time you didn’t give Sally Stewart her mechanical pencil back in fifth grade?

When the bell rang, you got your backpack and ran out of the classroom, pushing past people to get outside. Taking a fresh breath of air, you sighed in relief. God, it was suffocating you to be near Mark Lee.

Swallowing, you realized just how much it hurt to be up close to the perfectness that was Mark Lee. You had a boyfriend, he was to help you get over Mark. Then why the hell was your heart still fluttering from him being so close?

“Y/N!” You froze, immediately recognizing the voice. Mark. You didn’t turn your full body but you twisted your head to show you heard him. “Hey,” he sent you a smile that knocked the breath out of you. Damnit. “You left this,” he held out the pencil you had lent him.

“Just keep it,” you shook your head, waving your hand.

“No, I’ll buy some tonight,” he put it closer to you and you sighed, knowing he wouldn’t stop until you took it. You grabbed the pencil, ignoring the shiver that went down your spine at the contact your hands mine. You shoved it into your backpack as he continued, “So, uh … Do you want to hangout sometime? This weekend, maybe?”

Closing your eyes, you willed yourself not to do anything irrational -- like cry in front of him. Why was the world doing this to you? What’d you do to deserve this? Because Mark was the one to break off your relationship.

“Mark, please don’t start,” you whispered, shaking your head and opened your eyes to see him look at you in confusion.

“Start what?”

“This,” you gestured between the two of you. “I’m not sure what you’re playing, but please don’t do it to me. You’re the one who broke it off, not me. So, just … stop, okay?” You don’t look to see the hurt in his eyes and instead walk away, meeting up with your boyfriend who smiled as soon as he saw you and gave you a hug and kiss.

You do not see Mark Lee everywhere.

You do not see him when you go to the library to study. You do not see him in the same hall anymore. You do not see him shopping anymore. You do not see him when you go to get chicken. You see him twice a day, once in English class and the second time in your last class of the day.

To say the least, you were unsure why this bothered you.

Quietly walking into your last class of the day, he is sat the farthest away from you and your boyfriend, who you sit down by. He doesn’t look at you, instead silently staring at the teacher’s desk -- who hadn’t arrived yet. He can feel your stare, you know it -- but he doesn’t look at you.

Getting your attention, your boyfriend grabs your shoulder. Turning to him, you stare at him expectantly and he smiles a bit awkwardly, asking, “Are you okay? You keep staring over at Mark Lee.”

Your mouth drops open a little, gaze switching between your boyfriend and Mark, who is still staring at the teacher’s desk, and smile. “I’m okay. And, I’m not.”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t push. “Okay.”

You smile convincingly and he grins back at you, forgetting the topic moments before as the teacher walks in the room, putting down her stuff. Letting out a small breath, your gaze turns back to Mark, and that’s where it stays for the rest of the class until the bell rings.

Mark is the first one out of the classroom and you make a split second decision, hurryingly grabbing your things before following after him. “Mark!” He almost trips at the sound of your voice, and stops himself in his tracks. “Hey,” you breathe when you get to him.

“Hi,” he’s staring down at the ground as students walk past you two. “What do you need?”

“Um,” your mouth grows dry. You hadn’t thought this far. “I-I just …” Your voice trails off. You didn’t have an excuse to talk to him. But you wanted to.

“Look, Y/N,” he seems to get exactly what is happening. Your heart hurts, he always knew you well. But then why did he break up with you? “You … You can’t be mad that I tried to talk to you a few days ago, and then when I don't, you come to me.” He shakes his head, turning his eyes up to look at you. “Make up your mind, and choose.”

“Choose what?”

“Whether you want me in your life or out of it.”

You inhale, eyes closing briefly. “I-I-” You don’t know what to say. “Mark, I want to know why you broke up with me.”

Mark stares down at his shoes again, “You were moving. I thought it’d be the best.”

“Long distance relationship would work,” you remind him. “As long as I was with you, it’d work. I didn’t care, Mark.”

“But I did,” he says. “I couldn’t think about being with you when you’re far away from me, and near so many other guys who I knew one would catch your attention. And from what I know, it seems like it happened. We just weren’t together.”

“Mark …” You whisper his name. You realize that you were never really pissed about him showing up everywhere, you were just upset because everything reminded you of him. “I got with him to forget about you. Looks like that didn’t really work so well, because here we are, seven months later, and I’m still so hopelessly in love with you.”

Mark’s head snaps up to you, “Really?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, “Really.” His lips turn into a grin and you smile before looking around. “So, where … where does this leave us?”

“Whatever you want,” he shrugs. “We can start off new, if you want.”

“Maybe,” you hum. “But … do you really want to be with me?” You whisper, eyes darting down to the ground. After Mark had broke up with you, insecurity grew -- like, why did he break up with you? Was it because you were ugly? Because you didn’t do something? Because you did do something?

“I always have,” he sighs. “But my insecurity grew over my want and so --” he stops himself from talking. “Yes, I do want to be with you.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Well … Before anything happens, I think I should talk to him.” He doesn’t question you on who him is, he already knows.

Mark nods in agreement, “Okay.” He smiles slightly. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” your lips twitch up. “Is your number still the same?”

“You still have my number?” He grins.

“Yes,” you roll your eyes, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll text you later, Mark. Don’t get run over on your way home.”

“Don’t die,” he calls back to you as you walk away from him, on your way to your soon to be ex boyfriend. You smile.

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taizi · 5 years

Text

put your empty hands in mine

chapter six: the lucky cat

natsume yuujinchou pairing: kitanishinatsu word count: 2639 summary: Kitamoto and Nishimura are soulmates, to absolutely no one’s surprise. But they’re also soulmates with a very shy boy who lives somewhere far away, who writes to them in tiny, careful letters right before bed, who apologizes when the mimicry of bruises pop up on their arms and backs because of him. And that’s a surprise to a lot of people. read on ao3

“Ugh, Takashi,” Satoru says with distaste. “I can’t believe you’re friends with Shibata.”

Takashi gives him a guilty smile, but finishes tapping out a reply to his new email anyway. While he’s distracted, Atsushi shoots Satoru a warning look over the top of his head, and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“I’m just saying. I was gonna beat him up for being a jerk, and I can’t do that if Takashi’s friends with him.”

“He’s not so bad,” Takashi says in his soft, insistent way. “He apologized for taking my phone, and he makes the other kids leave me alone. School is a lot more fun now.”

Satoru can feel himself relenting, because Takashi’s eyes are so big and brown that it’s impossible not to melt under them, and that’s annoying. He crosses his arms and sulks at the river, and sulks a little harder when Atsushi says, “Ignore him, he’s being an idiot. I’m glad you have a new friend, Okashi.”

Takashi still turns a little pink when they call him by a nickname, but that’s ninety percent of the reason why they do. He puts his phone away and lifts his bare feet up out of the water, crossing his legs and leaning over until he’s comfortably slumped against Satoru’s side.

Then he pulls out that orange marker of his, the cap squeaking as it’s twisted off. Satoru can’t resist looking down at his own hands as Takashi’s familiar handwriting appears on the inside of his left wrist.

Satoru watches the characters form, and sounds them out in his head as they do; su-ki da yo.

“Ughhhh,” Satoru says again, with even more feeling this time. He throws his arms around Takashi and topples them over sideways, squeezing him hard and rolling him into the muddy bank, mostly so he won’t notice how red Satoru’s face probably is. “That’s so cute! It’s annoying!”

Takashi’s alarmed yelp morphs into helpless laughter as he struggles to get free. Atsushi scoots aside to avoid their tangle of limbs and doesn’t lift a finger to help him.

It’s the best summer they’ve ever had, because Takashi is visiting for a whole month before the next school term. He got to meet all of Atsushi and Satoru’s friends, and they all liked him immediately-- even grumpy Adachi, who doesn’t really like anyone that's not Tsuji. They’ve spent countless hours playing tag in the tall grass, and begging cool treats from storekeepers, and filling their pockets with bugs and crushed flowers and little frogs to bring home to Mana.

Takashi brightens with every afternoon he spends in the countryside under the beaming sun, until his skin is a gold that matches his eyes, and his grin is waiting just around every corner. Satoru wants to keep him here forever, until he forgets what it was like to be shadowed and sad.

“Mom’s gonna be mad at you,” Atsushi says dryly, when they’ve run out of energy to wrestle anymore. “She already did the laundry today.”

“We can just hop in the river and get all the dirt off,” Satoru retorts. “It’s so hot today we’ll be dry again before dinner.”

Beside him, Takashi suddenly goes still. He sits up quickly, all the playful vibrance gone out of him to make room for something tense and alert, like a rabbit that senses a hawk in the sky. Satoru follows his eyes, but there’s nothing to look at; just a stretch of riverbank they have all to themselves, and an empty bridge over the water.

But still--

“Something’s there?” Atsushi asks. He’s already getting to his feet, reaching down with both hands to pull Satoru and Takashi up, too. “Where is it?”

“On the other side,” Takashi says quietly. He’s staring at the opposite bank. “I don’t think it wants to cross the river. If we hurry we can get away.”

Satoru will never understand how people see Takashi like this and still call him a liar. He’s looking at something-- his eyes are moving inch by inch to follow it, wherever it’s going. There isn’t anything faked or forced about it. Atsushi is still holding their hands as they pull away from their comfy spot by the water, and Takashi points them in the direction of a little footpath that wings toward the treeline.

“There’s a shrine up there,” he says. Somehow he knows better than Satoru does where all the shrines are, and Satoru’s the one who lives here. “We’ll be safe at a shrine.”

The first time something followed him, he told Satoru and Atsushi to go home without him. They scolded him so much for even thinking they’d leave him to deal with a mean ghost by himself that he never brought it up again. He just holds their hands tight and pulls them along, as quick as he can without tripping them up, dodging low-hanging branches and jumping over protruding roots.

They spill out of the trees and onto a wider path, and nearly bowl Tsuji and Adachi right over.

“What in the fresh hell are you doing?” Adachi snaps, shuffling to hide the fact that he’s holding Tsuji’s hand. Any other time, Satoru would be delighted. “Natsume, don’t let them drag you around.”

“Everything okay?” Tsuji asks, as unflappable as ever. He’s frowning a little bit. “Are you running from someone?”

“No,” the three of them chorus, which is probably the most suspicious thing ever. Tsuji, class president and resident mom friend, narrows his eyes at them. “We’re just showing Takashi around,” Atsushi adds more convincingly.

A branch snaps somewhere behind them, and Takashi jerks an involuntary step in the opposite direction, yanking his soulmates with him.

“Anyway, seeya,” Satoru says by way of farewell, and the three of them take off again before their friends can get a word in edgewise, tearing up a slight incline and diving into the cover of some heavy brush. “Jeez, the one time there are other people walking around in the woods-- why would you walk around in the woods? Weirdos!”

Atsushi laughs breathlessly. “We hang out here every day!”

Their meandering route finally leads them across the shrine stairs. They head up, bare feet tapping the sun-warmed stone, the red torii gate looming in welcome just a few meters ahead.

Looks like we made it, Satoru thinks victoriously--

And then wind roars behind them, like a hunting creature. Takashi makes a strangled sound and pulls them to the left sharply. Satoru’s foot catches on something around ankle-height and he goes sprawling with a startled squawk, and he drags Atsushi right down with him. Takashi manages to stay upright because Atsushi does the sensible thing and lets go of his hand, but his face is pale.

“Um,” he says, sinking to his knees gingerly. “Do either of you know what this was for?”

Satoru picks himself up with a groan to get a look at what Takashi’s talking about. The fair-haired boy is holding two ends of a snapped straw rope-- probably the thing Satoru tripped on. Its little paper streamers are crushed and dirty, now.

“It’s a shimenawa,” he goes on, looking at the two of them beseechingly. “It’s-- like a ward? Or a barrier? Do you know if-- it was here for an important reason?”

“You broke it,” a gruff voice behind them says. All three of them flinch wildly, and Satoru and Atsushi both spin around, ready to plead their case to whatever old man happened upon the scene, because it was an accident!

But there isn’t an old man. There’s just a little wooden shrine, with more of the paper shide streamers hanging across the door. Satoru blinks, and looks around for whoever spoke. Atsushi crawls over to where Takashi is kneeling and says, “Hey, what is it?”

He grabs for the hand Atsushi offers him. He looks terrified. The doors of the shrine are rattling now, as if there’s something inside trying to burst out. Satoru looks down at the broken rope on the ground, thinks of what Takashi said about a barrier, and has a realization that comes in the form of a succinct, internal, oh no.

The doors burst open.

There’s a lucky cat statue inside.

They sit there frozen for a moment, staring at the innocuous porcelain figurine. It stares right back, with its waving paw and painted smile. It’s so anticlimactic that Satoru lets out a huff of laughter, and Atsushi’s tense shoulders slump in relief, and Takashi says, “Well, thank goodness for-- “

The shrine explodes.

Wood bends and snaps, a plume of stirred dirt rising like a cloud, and the three of them duck closer together to keep it out of their eyes. Satoru squints from behind his hand, though, watching the round figure of the calico cat come to life.

It lands next to the splintered remains of its home and squints at them with its dark, slitted eyes.

“You’re not going to cower at the sight of me?” it asks, in the old man voice from earlier.

“You’re not very scary?” Takashi replies. It comes out sounding like a question. He’s probably used to spirits that are scary. The cat huffs, like it’s amused.

“Little brat,” it says, not entirely unkindly. It waddles a few steps forward to give Takashi a sniff. Atsushi is tense, clutching Takashi’s arm with both hands, but Satoru isn’t sure what he’s so freaked out for. It’s a fat old cat-- if it tried anything, they could just throw a rock at it or something to make it go away. “You smell like another human I know. You look like her, too, but she was bigger than you are. Nowhere near as runty.”

“He’s not runty,” Satoru says, offended. “We’re ten, this is as tall as we get!”

The cat gives him a once-over. “You’re the brat that broke the barrier. Well done.”

“It wasn’t on purpose. And if I’d known what you were like beforehand, I’d have hopped over that old rope and left you stuck in there.”

Atsushi is making a sound like he’s dying, but Satoru ignores him. He’s not going to be polite to anyone who decides to be mean to one of his two favorite people in the world, and he doesn’t care if they’re humans or one of Takashi’s yokai.

The cat doesn’t look too bothered, anyway. It seems like it would take a lot to impress it one way or the other. And then Takashi is leaping ahead of the conversation to say, “What human do I look like, maneki-neko-san? Who was she?” so Atsushi doesn’t get a chance to call Satoru an idiot, which means Satoru won that round.

“Her name was Natsume Reiko,” the cat tells him. There’s something odd about the way it’s looking at Takashi, as though it’s sizing him up for something, or making some kind of decision about him. “She must have been a relative of yours.”

“I think that was my grandmother’s name. I’ve heard some of my relatives talk about her,” Takashi says slowly. “They don’t say nice things. Was she-- like me?”

“She was. She could see ayakashi, and she was always alone.”

“That’s not like Okashi, then,” Atsushi interjects abruptly, apparently having kept quiet for as long as possible. “He’s got lots of friends.”

“We knew he could see ghosts before we even met you,” Satoru says. He doesn’t add “so there” even though he wants to. “That’s why we were running through here like crazy in the first place.”

The cat blinks once, twice, unhurried. It says, “Something chased you here?”

“Yes,” Takashi says. “It was-- big. It had long, tangled hair and one eye in the middle of its face. There was a smaller yokai with it, with, um-- sort of wide, feathered ears? Like a dog’s?”

“Do things chase you very often?”

“Yes, ever since I was small. That’s why I was going to the shrine. They don’t bother me there.”

Atsushi’s hands squeeze where they’re holding him, and Satoru leans into his back a little more. They can’t be there with him all the time, as much as they’d like to be. He lives so far away from them that he has to handle the scariest things all by himself. All they can do is comfort him after the fact, try to cheer him up when he gets quiet and sad, write reminders to him in colorful ink that no matter what, he’s never really alone.

And that’s nice and all, but when a monster chases you home from school and looms over your bed at night and whispers your name from every corner of the house, it’s not much.

“Hmph,” says the cat, and then it crawls right into Takashi’s lap.

Takashi gasps, perfectly stunned, and Satoru can’t say he expected this turn of events either.

“Um,” Atsushi hedges. “Maneki-neko-san--”

“Come up with a better name for me than that, brats,” it grizzles. “That’s a mouthful, and it’s none too creative. Your heads must be full of cotton.”

While Satoru is offended and Atsushi is getting that way, Takashi looks somewhere between hopeful and delighted. “A name?” he asks, lowering his hands slowly to the calico fur. “Are you going to stay with me?”

“That’s right,” says the grouchy cat. “Not because I want to-- I have better things to do-- but I owe your grandmother a favor. She’d curse me from the afterlife if she knew I let her little descendant get into trouble on his own.”

“This thing reminds me of Adachi,” Satoru mutters. It’s not a compliment, and Atsushi turns away to muffle a snort behind his hand. “So you’re gonna look after him, is that what you’re saying? Why don’t you just say that?”

The cat glares at him. Satoru has never been less impressed by a glare in his life. Takashi bites his lip, looking worried. “Um, I don’t think my guardians would let you stay, neko-san. They don’t-- they’re not-- “

“They don’t have to let me do anything.” It folds up its paws and puts its chin on Takashi’s knee, every bit as though it’s settling in for a nap right then and there. “I can make myself invisible to most humans, you know. It’s only in this form of mine that your little friends can see me.”

“Lucky us,” Satoru mutters.

“Satchan,” Atsushi laughs helplessly.

But Takashi is enamored. He likes cats, Satoru remembers. He sends them pictures of the strays he feeds at the park.

He’s kneeling there in the dirt, damp and muddy from an afternoon spent by the river, barefoot because they didn’t remember to pick up their shoes before they went running off, his arms full of a fat talking cat that they accidentally broke out of a warded shrine, and none of these things seem particularly strange to him.

If anything, he looks happy.

“Can I call you Nyanko-sensei?” he asks eagerly, which is exactly the sort of adorable thing Satoru should have anticipated he would say.

The cat grumbles a lot, but it doesn’t look displeased, and it’s exactly like when Adachi rolls his eyes at Tsuji, who literally everyone knows is Adachi’s best friend. Takashi scoops it up when he climbs to his feet, and turns to throw a beaming smile at his soulmates, hugging his new cat to his chest in both arms.

“Wait till I tell Shibata!” he says brightly.

“Ugh,” Satoru replies, remembering to be annoyed about that.

But he has to admit, even if he’ll never say it out loud, that it’s nice knowing Takashi’s got some people looking out for him when Satoru and Atsushi can’t. Even if one of those people is an annoying reformed bully, and the other is an annoying talking cat.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #kitanishinatsu #nishimura satoru #natsume takashi #kitamoto atsushi #tsuji #adachi kei #my writing #natsuyuu fic #empty hands #here i am posting fic at 4am like a madman

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workingonit-currently · 5 years

Text

(Title Pending)

Part 2 (Start!)

In this words everyone has one thing in common, a Spark.

It's the number one thing you're judged on. Sparks are special abilities but also give the person they belong to other side abilities that relate or compliment their Spark's main ability.

But sometimes Sparks are what hold you back.

Boze wasn't one to turn down an assignment but with her Spark, eternal youth, she feels she could be doing more with her job than invading a stupid school. Though this was her first assignment since transferring to Shīru city's police station and they'd read her previous jobs and seen her abilities they still decided to assigne her this job.

The task was to invade the local school, Monogatari High School, and report any suspicious activity, the Shīru police having had a tip-off from a local that something is going down there.

Boze was the only officer known who could convincingly get into a school, looking young enough thanks to her Spark, but Boze wanted a juicy assignment, not just some stupid job like this. She couldn't understand why she was saddled with an assignment like this when Officer Corn and Sohin', the two goof-balls of the station, got to go to multiple bomb sights and mess around! It was so unfair!

Fair enough that Officer Corn's Spark is more chaotic than most and Officer Sohin' couldn't be more off in the clouds and neither could pass for convincing teenagers but despite all odds Boze's mind still found a way to convince her that they could do it instead.

She wouldn't dare bring it up to Chief Takahashi though, to afraid of losing both her badge and her life. The Cheif was about as tough as they came, survived time in The War of Vallies, braved the heats of Ghosts with nothing but a cup of milk as sustinence and most recently fought against the great Domination Extermination Force Fighting You. The station myths even say her hair is purple because it's dyed everyday with deadly poison from a giant snake that she keeps, all so that when she finally meets death they'll be running from her.

Despite this Boze still hates the fact that she has to pretend to be a hormonal teenager and spend her day learning in school. She finished school for a reason!

That's partly why she can't believe she's actually standing at the corner of the street she lives at with a backpack, waiting for the Monogatari High School bus, but she is.

Sighing and gripping the light purple strap of her backpack around her left shoulder Boze thinks of her days in school, not thinking this will be that hard. Breath

She was wrong.

As soon as she stepped on the bus she knew she was wrong. The scent of body odor and the sound of teenagers screaming and shouting brings Boze back to her school days and she struggles to find a seat, each person she passes side-eyeing her and sneering as if they have a personal vendeta against her or her bloodline.

Eventually she does sit down, at the back of the bus to avoid the glares and sneers, her face already feeling inadequate and ugly. Trying to take time to ready herself for the day Boze finds it extremely difficult, wild thought of what she must look like or how she must smell distract her mind and suddenly the thirty minute bus ride from her home to the school seems like hours.

She gets out of the bus just as school starts, following the crowd into the main hall and sitting down, trying to blend in. The crowd of teenagers are like snakes, tightly crushing her but she still moves, ready for anything at this point and her seat in the hall is not much different, she's wedged between a skinny and boney boy and a slightly buff girl.

A very official looking woman steps infront of everyone and brings a speaker to her mouth, Boze assumes she's the head. She stands up on a platform infront of everyones seats and has a flowey suit-dress thing so it only makes sense that she owns the school or is high in status here and you don't get much higher than the head.

This is correct as Boze finds out when the woman announces she is the head.

"Good morning all of you and welcome to your second year at Monogatari High School, I also welcome the new additions that have only come this year. Welcome all!" The lady starts with and Boze now remembers why she hated school, the teachers all seemed condisending to her and they don't seem to have changed now.

"For those who are new please let me make you aware of some things, firstly I must ask you to call me Miss Rose, secondly please make sure you know your place as there are five ranks and Leader is the top so try not to cause any trouble before being assigned your rank, thirdly can we all please try to finally put and end to CB, it is not funny anymore and students have got hurt." Miss Rose, the head, asks with a slight hint of frustration on that last one but she takes a deep breath and continues, "That is all. Thank you and have a good day!"

Boze takes out her notebook and pen before scribbling down her fimdings, 'CB is something to watch out for'. As she writes she feels a pair of eyes on her notes and swiftly turns her head to meet them.

"Oh! Umm...sorry. I was just curious!" The skinny boy next to her stutters and Boze rolls her eyes, not lowering her guard around this guy as he could be a suspect.

Bringing the notepad to her chest Boze casually struts out of the hall and towards a classroom of sorts that every other child is heading to. She takes this time to inspect those around her, knowing extreme Spark usage of immense power would give off physical signs such as discolouration of hair into an unnatural colour.

Her eyes meet only one, a tall silver boy that the crowd seems to avoid subconsiously. Interesting.

Boze sits far away from the teacher, planning to be undisturbed and alone to note suspicious activity but as she pulls out her pen the same skinny boy she sat next to sits by her and smiles, avoiding her death-glare.

“Hi. My name’s Logan, nice to meet you.” He introduces and sticks out his hand for Boze to shake, the morning light bouncing off his glasses and making Boze unable to see his eyes.

"Nice to meet you to. Boze." Boze responds with, using a more sour tone than the boy and shaking his hand slowly. Boze hates this boy already, so she can't understand why he would keep almost trying to make her hate him more.

For example all throughout the lesson whenever Boze would answer right Logan would grab her hand a hogh five it, shouting loudly "yes!". Or maybe whenever Boze took notes Logan copied those note but in smarter language. In all ways of the word, Logan was getting on Boze's nerves.

It also didn't help that when the bell rung for lunch and the teachers obligation to care ended a quater of the class stayed behind to glare at Boze and Logan, narrowing their eyes at Logan's new 'friend'.

"Oh why hello hot-cakes, I didn't see you last year. Are you new baby?" One calls, a girl with black hair covering one eye.

Boze chooses to nod to this, Logan shaking in his boots as she casually packs her bag. She's use to sexual name calling and next to nothing intimidates her anymore, especially not this overly-sexual teenager.

"Also looks like you're one of little Lo's friends. Any statements?" The same black haired girl spits this time and Boze cringes, disgusted by the girl. Boze observes that the girl is the only one actually speaking, probably meaning the group around her would fall to pieces and give up if Boze were to take her down.

"Fuck. Off." Boze states with her middle finger up, finally having packed her bag and slinging it onto her back. Logan of course shakes more and goes pale, eyes darting between the black haired girl and Boze, muttering under his breath.

"Oh you're going to pay!" The girl shouts, trying to intimidate Boze as she cracks her knuckles and glares at her. Boze casually walks towards her and punches her in the face, not having the actual time or energy to draw the fight out any longer than it has to be.

After Boze's first punch the girl topples down, blood pouring from her nose. (And not the good kind.)

Boze simply grabs Logan by the arm and walks away. She may not exactly like him but if he's getting bullied she mighy as well stick by him.

"That was awsome!" Logan finally says and punches the air, Boze slightly smiling at the compliment.

"We should get lunch though." Logan muses before turning the tables and dragging Boze forward.

As Boze and Logan walk with their trays full of food, remembering to sneak a quick glance as they pass the black haired girl who is now looking less than peachy, they wander.

Of course they can't wander anywhere they want, Logan could since he's a Leader but he says he's never abandon his new friend. Boze appreciates this but asks anout Leaders.

"What are they?"

"Well, it pretty much means we can go anywhere anytime and people HAVE to treat us with respect." Logan tries to explain but Boze rolls her eyes teasingly.

"That black haired girl I punched didn't seem to be treating you with a lot of respect." She comments and Logan awkwardly laughs, looking away from her.

"Yeah, that's the sad thing about being a Leader, you can't exactly lose per-say at...anything!" Logan starts and chuckles nervously, "If you do lose at something they strip you off your title and give it to the person who beat you. I guess it's meant to make you train harder and be better but I can't handle all the pressure but need the actual title for my oen project I'm working on and I couldn't afford to lost the title so I just let Grace, that's the girl by the way, keep beating on me with the promise she's never tell anyone. My projects actually interesting though and, in my opinion, worth it. It's this sph-"

Boze interupts Logans ramble by placing her hand over his mouth, her eyes glued to the same silver haired person she saw while walking to the classroom. He's just as tall as Boze imagined, now that she could actually see all of him. He is also very muscular which is saying something since most people here are physically fit.

"Oh. That's Wes." Logan noted as he saw where Boze was looking, he pushed his glasses up his nose, "Don't talk to him."

"Why?" Boze asks, already suspicious of this Wes boy, firstly his hair is unnaturally silver and then Logan tells her not to talk to him. This is just a recipe for disaster and Boze wants in.

"Let's just say he's a last resort." Logan tries to explain, giving Boze chills when he talks about Wes. What kind of power does he hold if he's deemed a last resort? What kind of person is he?

"But...Why are those people talking to him then?" Despite this feeling of impending doom Boze enquires more and Logan sighs, covering his face as he notices the blonde haired girl and glasses-wearing boy talking to Wes.

"Those people are Joven and Courtney, both Leaders, and they usually talk to, and hang out with Wes. They're probably disscussing 'buissness'." Logan explains simply, putting air quotes around buissness and making Boze more curious.

"Buissness?" She asks Logan, eyeing the trio of suspicious trouble-makers and already getting ready to report this to base. I bet Officer Corn and Sohin' don't see anything this interesting ever.

"Yeah, those three are all kind-of, most of the time, seen together and most people here think they're in a group despite being from different clicks. Joven claims that he's telling Wes off most of the time and Courtney claims Wes just messes with her personally a lot but I think it's because they're all Leaders." Logan explains and nervously laughs, awkwardly waving as the trio finally notice them.

"Wes isn't a leader though?" Boze finds the flaw in Logans words and wonders if he's trustworthy.

"Only because he doesn't want to be, he could probably take down everyone in the school right now." Logan explains, quieting his voice as the trio approach but Boze still hears.

"Really? So do you know any more? Any way to...I don't know..take him down if he snaps? Wes I mean. A teacher maybe or the Head or-" Boze asks and Logan cuts her off quickly.

"Shut up for a second and don't tell anyone I told you this but no one can take Wes down, that's why he's the last resort..." Logan explains and goes to run off to avoid the trio approaching but Boze grabs his tie and stares at him. She stares deep into his eyes, seeing them wide with fear as she smiles.

"There's something you're not telling me..." Boze hisses quietly as Wes passes, Courtney and Joven heading off in seperate ways away from Wes.

"N-no! Really! There's no one in this school who can take down Wes..." Logan insists but Boze doesn't loosen her grip on his tie, still not believing him.

"Okay! Maybe Damien but...-" Logan starts and Boze growls, growing impatient with Logan. He lied to her!?

"Where is he!? I thought you said no one in this school could take down him?" Boze hisses and grits her teeth, not caring about making a scene. Mari wanted her to invade this school and gain info, this is how she gains info!

"Damien is probably in the club house. That's technically not in school, just on school grounds" Logan explains casually with a smirk before running away but calling back, "Good luck getting him to help you though!"

Boze enters what she thinks is the Clubhouse as it's stationed near small wooden houses and she instantly smells cinnamon. Crinkling her nose aand looking around Boze finds no one in the clubhouse, just the evening sun shining through the five small glass windows.

Boze doubts Logan, wondering if he was lying, when a sneeze disturbs her from her thoughts and her attention is brought to a single soft chair with someone sitting diagonally across it.

Readying her fists as she approaches, Boze moves towards to front of the seat to look at the person who just sneezed. Just as she manages to sneak around to the side of the seat and black hair becomes visable the voice of the person casually comments.

"What's taking you so long? I thought you'd be quicker."

"Huh?"

"Oh, so you're here now? What do you want?" He asks, dissinterested and casually leaning back in his seat.

"You are Damien, correct?" Boze asks, trying not to get thrown off by Damiens casual and lazy facade. If he truely is as powerful as Wes or even more powerful she can't let her guard down, he wouldn't be this casual so it must be an act.

"Yeah. And you're Boze." Damien answers, waving his hand in a 'speed-up' movement and catching Boze off-guard in the fact he knows her name., "Now that we're finished with introductions can we please get back to what the hell you want New-Girl?"

"Umm...okay? Well I need to know something first-" Boze starts but Damien cut her off, picking at his nails and consentrating very little on the coversation or her.

"Yes, I am as strong as Wes. No, I will not fight him. Why? I like him, he's useful to me and we need him as a last resort." Damien quickly explains and answers all of Boze's questions, silencing Boze momenteraly.

Damien takes this chance to stretch and sigh, placing a hand at the back of his neck and lying his head back, trying to relax. He is very much acting like the owner of this whole place, ignoring Boze when he feels like it and not taking anything seriously.

It's getting on Boze's nerves.

"So...Why do you need him? Why is he a last resort? For what!?" Boze suddenly finds her voice and rambles, the volume of her being not to Damiens liking and he can feel his rage rising. When Boze gets annoyed she rambles and that annoys Damien, can you see the problem.

Damien closes his eyes and grits his teeth, feeling the heat rise in him and bubble like lava, "Boze, shut up!"

Boze takes a break to look at him, staring at him and his rude words before continuing, "Now what's up with you? Are they experimeting on you? Would you be willing to file a report? Anything you know about this Wes guy? He's shady right?"

"Please...stop..." Damien pleades slightly, gripping the back of his head as the feelings inside him rise but Boze continues, ignoring him.

"I mean what is going on! I'm new here so could you explain literally anything!? Like more about Leaders! What is under Leaders! There are like five statuses in school but all I've heared about is Leaders!? Why!?" Boze rambles and her volume increases.

Damien can't take it anymore and sits up, opening his eyes suddenly and grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from barking at the rambling gurl.

"Listen! I-" Damien shouts at her but is cut off by the school bell, freezing them both and silencing them.

As Boze looks back at Damien she finds him having regained his seemingly natural lazy and aloof attatude, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes, a smirk on his face as he feel Boze's eyes on him.

"Looks like you were saved by the bell. Come back here tomorrow morning before lessons and we'll talk more okay?" Damien explains and sighs, his breath calm and relaxed. He has a smirk on his face and if Boze wasn't told any better she would think he was just some random aloof idiot.

"Just try to not get yourself killed first aye?" Damien teases and Boze feels heating gathering around her cheeks so she turns her head to try to hide it.

Boze nods hurridly to herself, agreeing with Damiens plan, and looks back at Damien only to find him having dissapeared into thin air.

"Huh? He's gone?" Boze asks herself and pokes the air around and on the chair, checking for Damien.

#smosh squad #smosh fandom #smosh #smosh games #smosh au #smosh anime #anime #anime au #au #Au #AU #damien haas #damien #wesley johnson #wes #boze #courtney #courtney miller

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am-i-right-counselor · 6 years

Text

Je Sais Que Tu N’es Pas Ma Réalité

Title: Je Sais Que Tu N’es Pas Ma Réalité

Pairing: Dominick “Sonny” Carisi Jr./Reader

Summary: It had been a few weeks since you’d broken up with Sonny Carisi…were you ready to see him again?

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 2490

Notes: Thank you as always to @carisiismyhomeboy and @of-salt-and-moon for all their help!

Read it on Ao3!

It had been awhile since you had been out. You hadn’t much been in the mood to go out lately, but tonight you had decided to give it a go. Besides, you could use a drink or two. It had only been a few weeks, but you went through a pretty rough breakup and hadn’t been out with your friends since then. It was your best friend’s birthday, and you’d feel pretty shitty if you didn’t go.

You were running a little late, the subway took too long to go in between stations. A usual occurrence, but still annoying. No one would be offended, but you hated being late. You walked into the bar, and it was jam-packed. It sounded like the party was in full swing. You could see that Jenn was making her rounds, so you went to the bar to get yourself a drink, and her a shot. Gin and tonic for you, a shot of tequila for her. The bartender slid you the drinks, and Jenn appeared beside you.

“Happy birthday!” You greeted her with the shot.

“Thank you!” She downed it in an instant. Jenn looked at you with a bit of concern. You knew her too well. She was about to give you news that you wouldn’t like. You–and she– were sure of it. Rather than waste any time on small talk you confronted her right away.

“What…?” You preemptively took a swig of your drink. Jenn took a deep breath.

“Sonny is here.” She exhaled.

Your heart sank right into the pit of your stomach. The last time you saw Sonny, it ended well, but it still ended. Despite promises to still be friends, there was no turning back, not really. You could be civil, but it was way too soon. The wounds were still fresh, and you didn’t feel like rubbing salt into it.

On the other hand, this was Jenn’s birthday, and you had wanted to be here for her. You couldn’t let fucking Sonny Carisi keep you from being the good friend you ought to be. Men had never held you back from being the best friend you could be, and Sonny Carisi sure would not become the exception to that rule. He was Italian, not French.

It was as if Jenn could see your thought process–and she might as well have, you never did have much of a poker face.

“Okay… that’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You said, half-convincingly. Jenn looked at you shrewdly. She always could read you better than you could yourself. In fact, only Sonny came close to Jenn in terms of knowing you. That was history.

“Look, you know I didn’t invite him, right?” Jenn looked slightly worried. You smiled and hugged her.

“I know, I know.” You hugged her tighter.

“It was Jason. I’m not quite sure he knows you two aren’t together anymore.”

You sighed. Of course Jason wouldn’t know. You hadn’t really seen too many people since it happened. In many ways this was the first time you had seen most of this crowd since everything went down. You and Sonny used to run into Jason all the time when you were together, it made sense that he’d mention the party. It didn’t make sense for Sonny to show up, but then again you wouldn’t quite know where his head would be at these days.

It’s okay, you can do this. You mustered your best fake smile.

“I guess not.” You hugged her tight. “I’ve got this, don’t worry.” You signalled the bartender and ordered Jenn another shot, as well as yourself.

“Happy birthday!” You both downed your shots. You may have also finished your gin and tonic as well. If you had to be around your ex, then you weren’t going to do so sober.

Grabbing another drink, you made your way into the crowd. You weren’t going to seek out Sonny, but you weren’t going to hide from him either. Jason was the first person to find you.

“Hey!” he said as he gave you a hug.

“Hey yourself!” You smiled back at him. Jason gave you a sheepish look.

“Hey, so no one told me you and Sonny had broken up…” Ah, so Jenn had gotten to him first. “I didn’t know, otherwise I wouldn’t have invited him…” You smiled and shook your head.

“It’s okay, Jason. Really.” You took a sip of your drink. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

He looked at you with concern.

“I know… but you don’t hate me, do you?”

You shook your head again and laughed.

“No, I don’t hate you, Jason. At least not yet.” You winked at him. The look on your face softened, as relief washed over him. His body relaxed.

“Oh good. I felt super bad as soon as I found out.”

“It’s alright! Honestly.” You chuckled. “Besides, if you really feel that badly, you can buy me a drink.”

“Another G&T, coming right up!” Jason made his way to the bar. You finished off the rest of your drink at hand.

Jason had given you your next drink, and you were making your rounds amongst your friends. It had been really nice to catch up with this group. It really had been a long time. Though it had been pleasant, and you were psyching yourself up, there was a nervousness in your gut in the shape of Sonny Carisi.

The inevitability of running into him was imminent. You kept scanning the room, but couldn’t see him or his damn long legs. There was no way he could have hidden himself so well in here. Was he even here? Was he avoiding you?

Suddenly, as if the universe was mocking you, you heard that thick Staten Island accent.

“Nice shot, but I could do one bettah!”

Of course he was at the pool table. Where else would he be? It wouldn’t be the dancefloor, that’s for sure. The two of you would play pool all the time when you were out. He was pretty good, but not as good as you. You must have been staring for too long, because you made eye contact. Shit. You took a sip of your drink. Here goes nothing. Making your way to the pool table you waved at him.

“Who’s winning?” You leaned back against the wall.

“”Who d’ya think?” He smiled in response. So far, so good.

“Well, that’s only because you’re not facing me.” Shit. You didn’t mean to come across as flirty. This was going to be harder than you thought.

“No, I never could beat you, doll.” There was some of that warmth in his eyes that you loved–had loved–and you were doing your best to ignore that.

Sonny placed his hand on the wall beside you. You were used to him being this close to you, and you almost leaned in. Almost. That would have been your natural inclination a few weeks ago, but not tonight. He broke the silence.

“Hey so uh, I wasn’t gonna come, but y’know… Jason can be a little…”

“Annoyingly persuasive?” You offered with a smile. His face softened.

“Yeah, you could say that. Guy wouldn’t let me alone all the way between produce and frozen foods!” He smiled at you for a moment before giving you a serious look. “I… I can leave if it’s…it’s…”

You shook your head vehemently. You refused to be the reason Sonny left.

“No, no, it’s alright.”

Sonny nodded. Before, you two could share an easy silence between you; nothing needed to be said. Now, there was this awkward, void of a silence. You were going to take another stab at saying something, but got cut off by a blonde woman.

“Can I get next game?” She was looking right at Sonny, who didn’t even look at you.

“Sure thing.” He beamed at her. Ah, so that’s how it is. You were feeling simultaneously amused and relieved. I guess that wasn’t flirting, then.

Sonny racked up the balls, and him and the blonde started playing. You leaned back against the wall, swirling your drink, desperately looking for someone else to talk to. Being civil was one thing, but watching Sonny openly flirt with someone else, that was out of the question. Especially when you thought you were making some progress.

Thankfully, you had your drink in your hand. Concentrating on not breaking the glass was keeping you from acting out irrationally. Watching Sonny play pool with that woman–Renée was her name, you found out from eavesdropping–was starting to grind your gears. You could feel your ears burn. It could have been the alcohol, but it also could have been the slow rage creeping up your neck.

It was happening in front of you like a train wreck; you couldn’t stop it, but you couldn’t look away either. Sonny was running on about 80% charm. He never did have to run at a full 100%, he didn’t need to. She was putty in his hands, and why wouldn’t she be? The Dominick Carisi charm was like the sun; warm and magical. If you were lucky enough to be grazed by it, you would long for nothing else. Not that you longed for it now, but it did hurt to see it be used on someone else. Someone not worthy.

You had to snap out of it. Thinking like this could not end well. It was starting to get a little awkward just standing there. Sonny clearly wouldn’t notice if you walked away. Hell, you could disappear all together, and he probably wouldn’t bat an eyelash at this point. You wanted to melt into the ground.

Glancing around, the only exit from this situation was back to the bar. You practically yelled your order at the bartender. That wasn’t your intention, but your previous drinks were catching up to you. You gladly took the drink the bartender slid over to you. It wasn’t something you should be having, but it was the only way you were going to make it through this mess.

You couldn’t leave now–it was too early in the night. And besides, if you left before Sonny… no that couldn’t happen. You also didn’t want to piss Jenn off. It was her birthday and the last thing you wanted to do was make it about yourself.

You leaned against the bar, when you clued into the music playing.

‘Can’t stand by myself. Hate to be alone.’

The song wasn’t familiar, but you could relate. You found yourself gravitating towards the dancefloor. What a cliché–drunk woman on a dancefloor. What did it matter anyway? It’s not like you were making a fool of yourself like Sonny was, practically falling over the first pretty face to come his way. You couldn’t scream like you wanted to, but you were certainly going to dance your heart out.

‘I feel like just a baby. Portrait of a lady. Poster of a girl.’

Letting the music take over you, you started swaying your hips to the beat. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sonny at the pool table. He was still all over that girl–woman–Renée. You closed your eyes and turned around. You couldn’t stop what was going on, but you didn’t have to witness it. You didn’t hate yourself that much. You just danced it out harder. Maybe, just maybe, if you danced hard enough, the world would melt away. Perhaps you were dancing a little too recklessly, because you accidentally stepped on someone’s foot.

“Ouch!” Exclaimed a very well-dressed man.

“I’m so, so sorry!”

The man laughed and shook his head.

“It’s okay!” He stepped a little closer to you. “Maybe I can forgive you…”

“Maybe you can forgive me… and how is that?” Okay, gin was definitely taking control there. He stepped even closer.

“Maybe I can forgive you… if you dance with me?”

You grinned and leaned up, your voice brushing into his ear.

“Forgive me then…”

There was no need for any further invitation. He placed his hands on your hips as you swayed to the music. The power of the gin helped but this was the first time since your break-up with Sonny that you felt attractive; that you even wanted to be desired by another man. You placed your arms around his neck, keeping your gaze on his lips, daring him with your eyes to kiss you.

A dare was all it was going to be as soon as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You didn’t even need to turn around to know it as Sonny.

“Mind if I cut in?”

The man instantly withdrew himself from you.

“By all means…”

And with that, the handsome stranger backed off completely. You turned around.

“What the fuck, Sonny?!”

He shrugged with a sly look on his face.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, Sonny.”

Seeing red, you pushed through the crowd towards the washroom. You didn’t dare look behind you, just barreling forward. As you were approaching the door, Sonny placed his hand on the the wall in front of you.

“Wait! Just listen!”

You turned your head up and glared at him.

“What?” The venom in your voice was hard to miss.

“Why’d you take off? I just wanted to dance!”

“If you wanted to dance so badly, why didn’t you ask Renée?”

Sonny bit down on his lip. Of course he didn’t have an answer. You doubled down.

“You were having so much fun playing pool with her, so why not dance?”

Still no answer. You were right. You pummelled ahead.

“You had no problem ignoring me as soon as she came by. It’s fine. You’re allowed. But as soon I find someone to hang out with, you magically appear?”

You were letting him have it, but he wasn’t responding or making eye contact. You nudged his shoulder.

“What? Say something! Does Dominick Carisi finally have nothing to say? You’re the one that stopped me!”

He opened his mouth to say something, but promptly closed it. You sighed, exhausted with all of this.

“You know what? Fuck this. You had your chance to dance with me. I wasn’t the one that wanted to break up. That was you. You had your chance but you gave it up. Live with it.”

You turned away from him, storming your way to the exit. You gathered your jacket and purse and pushed yourself out of the door. You’d make your apologies to Jenn later. She’d understand. Right now you need to walk out of there and keep walking. Keep walking until the rage burned off. It felt as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You were mad, very mad, but you also felt… relieved.

For the first time in weeks you were okay, and for the first time, you knew you would be okay.

#law and order: special victims unit #law and order svu fic #sonny carisi fic #sonny carisi/reader #sonny carisi/you #dominick sonny carisi jr.

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fuckyeahjamieandclaire · 6 years

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It turns out love can conquer crow’s feet. Executive producer Maril Davis on the period drama’s decision to let love, not age lines, drive Claire and Jamie’s reunion arc despite a 20-year time jump.

There’s always been plenty to envy about Claire and Jamie, the star-crossed couple whose centuries-spanning romance propels the period drama Outlander. They’re capable, brave, and beautiful, blessed by an unbreakable bond, strong convictions, and even stronger sex drives. Since the series’ first season, their ear-pleasing accents, smoldering, soul-searching looks, telegenic love-making, and repeated rescues of each other’s lives have set a high standard, relationship-wise. But recent episodes of Outlander have introduced us to yet another quality we wish we had in common with Claire and Jamie: They’re almost immune to aging.

By their third seasons, many TV series settle into a rut—a familiar and welcome one, in the case of some comfort TV, but less so for hour-long dramas with fantasy elements, which traffic in twists and upheaval. But disrupting the status quo wasn’t a struggle for Outlander, an adaptation of Diana Gabaldon’s book series, which comprises eight novels (with a ninth on the way) and assorted shorter works. Through 37 episodes, the Starz series’ story is still closer to takeoff than landing, working through the third book in the sequence, 1993’s Voyager.

The events of Voyager dictated an unorthodox interlude for a program that’s centered on the interplay (and intercourse) between two charismatic and chemistry-laden leads: an extended separation and a mutual 20-year time jump. At the end of Season 2, the pregnant Claire (a 20th-century English nurse who in the first season accidentally slips into the past through, um, a mystical stone) and Jamie (her 18th-century, red-haired highlander lover) are forced to break up by the impending Battle of Culloden, at which Jamie, a Jacobite rebel, expects to be (and nearly is) killed.

To protect their soon-to-be-born daughter Brianna, Claire (played by Caitriona Balfe) returns to the 1940s. Believing that Jamie (played by Sam Heughan) did die, she does her best to move on, relocating to Boston, raising Brianna, becoming a doctor, and growing apart from her first husband, Frank, who’s caring and attentive but lacks Jamie’s highland lilt, kilt collection, and Men’s Health cover physique. Jamie, meanwhile, survives battle, torture, and imprisonment (nothing new for him), grows and shaves a big beard, fathers a son, pivots to printing and smuggling, and gets married again out of loneliness, all while carrying an eternal torch for Claire. Midway through the third season, after almost five episodes apart, they reunite in the mid-1760s, two decades older but no less in love—and, curiously, looking a lot like they did the last time they were together.

“I wanted to look—well, the same as when you last saw me,” Claire says with some trepidation during their first conversation, admitting that she’s dyed away the single gray streak that had appeared in her hair in earlier, Boston-centric scenes. Mission accomplished, Claire. Neither member of Outlander’s leading duo looks any worse for wear after 20 years of imprisonment, parenthood, and pining for lost love.

For Outlander’s creators, the time jump presented a production dilemma, not because of the story (which Gabaldon had already plotted out) or setting (most viewers aren’t well-versed in the intricacies of 1740s vs. 1760s style), but because of the actors’ appearances. In real life, a two-decade difference isn’t invisible, no matter how much St. Ives Oatmeal and Shea Butter Lotion you lather on because of Balfe.

Heughan, 37, and Balfe, 38, were both 34 when the series premiere aired in 2014, but their characters were considerably younger. “Jamie’s kind of early 20s, Claire is late 20s when it starts,” Outlander executive producer Maril Davis says by phone. Three years passed between Claire’s first time jump back to 1743 and the Battle of Culloden, which, Davis says, would put both of them in their “mid- to later-40s after the [20-year] time jump.” Although the creators talked about shortening the story’s time jump to reduce the need to alter the actors’ appearance, they found that they couldn’t do it without omitting too many plot points from the characters’ time apart.

Aware that the time jump was looming, the producers started doing screen tests last season with Balfe and Heughan, in consultation with head of hair and makeup Annie McEwan, who had worked on Season 4 of Game of Thrones before joining the Outlander crew. After experimenting with various looks, the creative team decided, essentially, that both Balfe and Heughan were too hot to convincingly tamper with by obscuring their actual features. “We have two actors who happen to be incredibly beautiful people,” Davis says. “It is hard to make them look bad, damn them.” Originally, the pair’s first post-reunion sex scene featured a reference to stretch marks, but the writers lost that line from the script, Davis says, when the makeup crew informed them that stretch marks “don't read very well on camera.”

Even apart from the specific challenge of wrinkling, graying, and thickening two age-resistant actors, the transition from 20s to 40s is a particularly tough one. “It's hard to make young people look incrementally older,” Davis says. “It's obviously a little easier—and I put ‘easier’ in quotes—if you're aging someone up from like 30 to 80. … With two actors who look so young anyways in their real life, we realized that we couldn't do major jumps without it looking fake, and also taking a lot of extra time in hair and makeup, as well as using a lot of extra prosthetics.”

For Davis, a veteran of more explicitly sci-fi (and more makeup- and prosthetic-reliant) productions such as Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica, Outlander’s understated approach to the aging process didn’t come intuitively. “There were some times that I said to our hair and makeup team, ‘Can we go farther? Because you can't read some of these lines that you're painting on camera,’” Davis says. “And they were horrified. They were like, ‘Are you kidding? Oh my god, we can't go any farther.’ It's interesting, because you also have to take the advice of people that have been in the business doing the hair and makeup a long time, knowing that they can only go so far until they feel uncomfortable because it doesn't look real anymore.”

In addition to the aging uncanny valley, there’s the time cost to the talent and crew to consider. A heavier hand on the cosmetic side—on top of the prosthetic flogging scars already applied to Heughan’s back in shirtless scenes for much of the series’ run—would mean much more time in makeup chairs, staring blankly into mirrors as fake years and real hours add up. Though according to Davis, Balfe and Heughan, who were frequently consulted, never expressed any reservations about hiding their youth under veneers of age. “They're both very game for whatever we want to do, and so this isn't a vanity thing,” she says. “Neither of them, I don't think, at any point has ever said, ‘I have to look good, so don't make me look too old.’”

This was a weighty decision, because the ramifications for the series could extend far into the future. Unlike some shows or movies that might insert a brief flash-forward in a single scene or episode, Outlander is committed to the time jump for the long term. Whatever aging the crew applied to Balfe and Heughan now would sentence them to the same look for years to come on a series that may still be relatively early in its run (which already has been renewed for a fourth season). That’s not only a nuisance, but potentially an acting inhibitor, as Davis says Heughan discovered while wearing his wild beard in the third season’s second episode. “If you have something on your face like that, sometimes it's a little harder to talk, you're more aware of it, it takes you out,” Davis says. “So all of these things are factors, and same with if we were getting into heavy prosthetics to make actors appear much older than they are.”

The end result of all the discussion and screen tests is a difference so subtle that you have to squint to see it—just like the new, older Jamie has to squint to see small text without wearing his reading glasses. Specs aside, he looks almost unchanged. “With Sam, we've kind of weathered him, adding more shading to his face,” Davis says. “We've got some lines that the hair and makeup department have put in themselves, and then greying at the temples for him, as well as with Caitriona. We realized because her skin is also so young that we'd have to sell a lot of it with the gray in her hair.” Of course, even that gray is gone now, at least temporarily, although Davis says its absence stems from an impulse to portray Claire’s humanizing insecurity, rather than a need to preserve the stars’ romance-novel looks (which she acknowledges are part of the show’s appeal). “So much of our talk about appearance is motivated from a character standpoint,” she says. “I don't think we ever go, ‘Oh my god, they have to look amazing because this show is trying to sell a fantasy element.’” But who’s to say that the mystical stones don’t have anti-aging effects?

In navigating the time jump, the producers’ overriding desire was to avoid distracting the audience by going overboard on aging. “You don't want to be taken out of the moment, sitting back watching at home,” Davis says. At times, though, the lack of aging is its own sort of distraction. My wife and I giggled through one supposed-to-be-tender scene as the script tried to sell us on these nearly identical-looking 30-something specimens as people pushing 50. “I don’t look like an old man?” Jamie asks self-consciously, shortly before exposing his still-chiseled chest. And Claire, after completely disrobing to reveal her youthful frame, tells an admiring Jamie, "You must really be losing your eyesight." Nobody’s buying it, guys.

The aging-related dialogue is less jarring when it alludes to the absurdity of the situation, as when Claire marvels to Jamie, “Most men in their 40s have started to go soft around the middle. You haven't a spare ounce on you,” or when she greets the family lawyer by exclaiming, “You look exactly the same!” (No Battlestar fat suits here.) In other scenes, though, the actors convincingly convey the passage of time through emotion, even though they both remain outwardly radiant. “We had so many discussions with Caitriona and Sam about this internal aging, because some of it, you are trying to sell this gravitas of 20 years of loss through their acting, which I think they do so well,” Davis says.

The best asset Outlander has in hand-waving its characters’ immutability is an audience that’s willing to suspend disbelief. “Let's be honest, we could've kept these two apart for a week and it would've seemed like an eternity,” Davis says. “I think for the fans it probably seemed like 100 years—for us as well. So I don't think we needed to add to that at all.”And if—like a lot of the Outlander faithful—you’re the sentimental type who doesn’t mind some soapiness, you’ll accept that love can conquer crow’s feet. “I think in a weird way, that 20 years just kind of faded away when they saw each other again,” Davis says. “In some ways, it was like so much time had passed, and in other ways it was like no time had passed at all because that love had never died.”

With the reunion episode’s semi-awkward aging exchanges behind it, Outlander soon stops dwelling on appearances: The following week, Jamie fireman’s carries a man from a burning building, and the week after that, not-so-newlyweds Claire and Jamie tear off their clothes and writhe around on the floor. Most Outlander watchers wouldn’t have it any other way.

Judging by the books (spoilers!), there’s still a chance that we’ll see an actually old-looking Claire and Jamie in future seasons. “If we're lucky enough to do all the books, they're in their 60s in the current books,” Davis says. “So we do want to also have somewhere to go, and we do need to use, as a base, our two actors, who are very young, and so we want to be with them on this journey.”

But based on this season, don’t be surprised if the 60-something couple doesn’t look a day over 45. “Time doesn’t matter, Sassenach,” Jamie says in Season 3’s sixth episode, using his pet name for Claire. “You will always be beautiful to me.” And also, most likely, to everyone watching at home.

#outlander #outlander starz #maril davis #caitriona balfe #sam heughan #jamie x claire #tv news #people: caitriona balfe #people: sam heughan #A. MALCOLM #3x06 #tv: s3 #queue

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