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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

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i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad.

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport.

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt.

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son.

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime.

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers.

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious.

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari.

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing.

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him.

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm.

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!”

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile.

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you?

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you.

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased.

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes.

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin.

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve?

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close.

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard.

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him.

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth.

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight.

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.”

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together.

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man.

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit.

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head.

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right?

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them.

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased.

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.”

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months

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- out of my league -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Hecate! Reader

Based on - out of my league

An - im having the worst fucking migraines ever

You silently closed your window. “Ready?” You smiled over at clarisse who quietly nodded. Both of you wearing warm clothing as it was getting cold out.

“Got the money?” She asked adjusting the spear that was on her back. “Yup!” Confirming the previous question by holding up your wallet. “Common Let’s get going before we’re caught” you chuckled grabbing clarisses arm leading her into the woods.

You and clarisse had been friends for a few years. Both arriving at camp and being claimed around the same time you both grew close. In most scenarios ares kids didn’t really hang out with minor kids Espically the Hecate group, but that never stopped you both.

Clarisse liked you. She knew she did, she always had. You were the complete opposite of her, kind calm considerate.. that’s what made you both the perfect pair.

For the past few weeks clarisse had been trying to ask you out on a date. From trying to get you to go on a walk with her after the bonfire to picking strawberries with her. every time the idea came though up she was never able to actually ask the question.

What she didn’t expect was for you to ask her on a mid night run to a gas station a mile down the road. Clarisse quickly agreed and now found herself here

Reaching the edge of the camp you chuckled some. “Ready” you smiled, Walking out the camp border.

Taking a deep sigh clarisse stepped through the border and followed you down the road.

——

The walk there was entertaining. Clarisse getting threatened by the smallest of noises think they were a monster thus making you laugh.

Deciding to play 21 questions, the daughter of ares took a minute to think of her final question for you. “All right uh.. Why do you like the night so much” she shrugged her shoulders

“Really that’s your question” You laughed, however taking note of clarisses serious face you rolled your eyes. “I guess the reason why I like the night so much is because nyx and Hecate used the darkness as a way to help viel women and witches who were running away so they wouldn’t be caught.. it’s comforting in a way especially after I ran away” you smiled while shrugging your shoulders. Before clarisse could respond You changed the topic at hand

“Oh! There it is” you happily smiled grabbing clarisses Hand without realizing it leading her inside he glowing seven eleven.

Almost immediately you made your way down to the slushy machine. “Here try it” You handed the coke flavored drink over. The daughter of ares looked suspicious but took a sip of the drink. “Only shit”

“I know!”

Being at camp since you were barley 10 it made you learn to appreciate the smaller things in life. Walking towards the back of the store You took an elaborate pair of shades off the rack“How do these sunglasses Look on me”

“Like an idiot”

“Rude”

“You wanted me to be honest”

Rolling your eyes dramatically you set the glasses onto clarisse smiling as they made her look equally as dumb. “There now we’re both idiots” both of your faces were close, if either of you leaned forward your would be kissing. Gently patting her cheeks you walked away down yet another isle trying to ignore your burning cheeks.

——

Now walking up to the counter with an assortment of candies, chips, two slushies, multiple sodas and three hotdogs you payed the fee and walked out with clarisse following in suit.

Looking over you saw the normally strong guard girl smiling as she ate her hotdog. “Oh is clarisse smiling?” You teased.

“Shut up” she chuckled gently bumping her hip into yours. “Only if you tell me what’s got you in a good mood”

After some back and forth clarisse eventually agreed. “When I was younger My mom like you know she was in the army, when we were moving around the country and going to school to school my mom would stop at gas-stations and get me some comfort foods one being a Hot Dog” she sarcastically admitted. You hummed happily looking down at your long finished snack. “When we’re older and leave camp the first thing I wanna do is meet your mom”

It was like the world stopped for clarisse.. you.. you wanted to meet her mom. “Why that’s stupid”

“Not Everything is stupid clarisse, and not everything has to have some elaborate reason.” Giving her a playful dirty look you chuckled as she gently shoved you.

—

Growing closer to the boarder of camp halfblood, your slushys long discarded and half the bag of food eaten you decided to run ahead some. However one you entered the general forest area near camp you stepped in the wrong spot at the wrong moment.

Almost immediately you were tackled to the ground with a monster one you couldn’t identity in the dark towering over you, the gross slobber is dripping down your face you tried to push it off with no avail.

The next thing you heard was clarisse screaming as she stabbed the monster. “Don’t fucking touch her!” She yelled. You were trying to collect your breath as the wind was knocked out of you. Standing up some you balanced on clarisse, watching the monster disgenerate you looked up worried.

“Shit Are You ok” she quickly questioned grabbing your face, taking off her jacket she started to clean the slobber and blood off of your face. “I’m fine, hey look see I’m not bleeding it was probably just a hound sniffing around.. I’ll be ok” you grabbed the nervous girls wrist while trying to help her calm down.

Clarisse Just nodded in response. “Let’s get back to camp” she sighed, grabbing the two plastic bags off the ground she held your hand, refusing to let it go until you were inside the border.

——

Once at the Hermes cabin clarisse helped you silently open the window. Climbing inside you groaned, after the attack you had pulled a muscle in your back.

“It still hurts” she asked worried. Nodding you gave her a forgetful frown. Watching as she started to walk away you decided to tease her some. “Where are you going?”

“Bed. It’s 3am”

“So you’re really leaving without a goodbye kiss?”

“And Why would i do That” she stopped, turning around with a currious look “Because you like me” you quickly responded with a charming smile.

“I- I do not I don’t know where—“

“Yes you do. And it’s ok because I like you to”

Her shocked expression made you laugh once again, muttered a small spell you pulled the girl back over to the window. Leaning down out you kissed her softly. Clarisses arms were tied down to her side with your spell, but you found it amusing how she still tried her best to kiss you back.

Pulling away you undid the spell and finger waved at clarisse while closing the window. “Wait! YN you can’t do—!”

“Goodnight clarisse” You sarcastically teased blowing her a kiss before completely shutting the window

“Yn!!” She finally yelled.. clarisse rubbed her eyes, what the hell was she going to do with you.

Clarisse - So We’re dating

Y/n - yes

Clarisse - ok.. im ok with that

Y/n - *raising an eyebrow* everything ok clarisse

Clarisse - *standing with a hand over her mouth and looking down critically* yup

——

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #pjo show #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians

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snowyquokka · 5 days

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MONSOON - L. MINHO

cw - mature themes MDNI, fem!reader, brothers best friend!Minho, swearing, angst, fluff (kinda?), mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, somewhat proof read, yada yada yada

wc - 3k

a.n - I FINISHED IT. im not sure how many parts there’ll be but here’s this for now :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Your heart is beating at the same frequency as the music blaring through your ears whilst making your way to the front door of the shitty little run down frat house. You’ve managed to throw back three rounds of vodka shots without puking and you were feeling a bit proud of yourself. But you have enough self respect to know when to call it quits. The cheap liquor did it’s intended purpose. That purpose being forgetting about someone.

Or not.

You roll your eyes drowsily as you push your way through the door and onto the surprisingly somewhat empty porch. Plopping down on the top step, you pull out your phone before pressing the only emergency contact you have.

“Aw you do care enough to call me,” Jisung’s grin is present in his soft voice.

“Mhm, yeah care- sure. Erm, busy?” There’s some muffled laughter in the background followed by some shuffling before he finally answers.

“I- are you-“ he cuts himself off and whispers something incoherent, “Scale of one to ten?” Due to your recent lack of responsibility, as Jisung calls it, he’s set up a scale system to determine how wasted you are.

One being buzzed, tipsy at best.

Ten being, well, absolutely plastered.

“Eight and a h-half?” you hiccup.

More muffled whispers are followed by, “What am I going to do with you.” and “Send me your location,”

After what seemed like an eternity of being surrounded by makeout sessions and college kids blowing chunks into the nearby hedges, a familiar car finally pulls up to the curb.

You stand up, albeit a little too fast, but you still make it to your feet. The sound of a car door slamming rings in your ears, leading up to warm, gentle hands carefully lifting your arm over their shoulder in order to help get in the passenger side of the car.

“Han- Minho?” Big brown eyes stare into yours as he leans over you and buckles your seatbelt. His expression’s blank, but it always is when he looks at you.

Minho looks at you for another moment before shaking his head, as if he’s snapping himself out of a trance, and shuts the door.

It was only about halfway to your dorm that you realized you didn’t have your keys and your roommate was out for the night.

“Ughh.” You whine and Minho eyes you like you’re crazy.

Maybe you are.

Crazy for leaving your stuff at home.

Crazy for catching feelings for your brother's best friend.

Crazy for trying to drown him out of your thoughts with shitty tequila and obnoxious music.

Crazy for actually thinking that you could distract yourself, let alone forget about him.

“Hello? Earth to her majesty.” he pokes your shoulder.

“Fuck off,” Please don’t stop talking to me.

“Ah, see I like bothering you too much for all that,” he glances from the road to your curled up form. Your ‘defensive pose’ as he likes to call it. It’s not the first time he’s seen you absolutely shitfaced.

“Wanna tell me why you’re throwing a fit over there?”

“No key,” you mutter and press your head against the cool glass of the window, reveling in the way it soothes your massive migraine.

“No k- what are you talking about? You went to a frat party with no keys? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Minho lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh, making you curl into yourself tighter. He sighs softly and prays that Jisung won’t kill him for taking you home with him.

“Why are you smiling like this is funny? None of this is the slightest bit funny. You could’ve been hurt and then I would-” he snaps his mouth shut and grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.

There’s a small amount of pressure on your stomach when you wake up and the sound of light purring fills the room. You peek your eyes open cautiously until you spot the orange and white cat resting on your lower abdomen.

“Soonie,” you hum with a smile.

Wait. Soonie?

You sit up fast making Soonie dart off the bed in surprise.

You’re in Minho’s bed. And not for the reason you would’ve preferred.

You’re engulfed in his scent, tangled in his sheets, hair spread across his pillows. You wonder how many girls he’s had here before and mentally gag at the thought.

“Morning,” Minho nods as he sets a tray with a bottle of painkillers and some water on it next to you.

Memories of the night before flash throughout your head and your cheeks flush red with embarrassment while your hands run down your face.

You made a fool of yourself in front of Lee Minho. This is a new low for you, you think.

But then again this isn’t his first time tending to you and your drunken stupor.

Maybe not in his own home, and maybe without you knowing but he’s done it enough to be well versed with handling you.

You down the water along with one of the capsules and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, trying as hard as possible to avoid Minho’s gaze.

“Better?” He whispers.

No.

“Mhm, fine.”

“Do you wanna talk about it now or-”

You climb out of his bed groggily, “I don’t want to talk about it at all, actually.” Minho does a double take and you realize that your dress slid up your leg and exposed almost the entirety of your legs, dangerously close to your core.

He looks away long enough for you to fix yourself before clearing his throat. “That sucks because we’re going to.” His annoyance is obvious, the tips of his ears pink from being flustered. As much as you really really want to push his buttons, your head is pounding and you feel simply, well - gross.

“I uh- I went and bought you some stuff so you could go shower,” he says, almost as if he read your mind. He rubs the back of his neck nervously with a grimace.

You look at him with a confused expression, “Huh? I’m sorry, I must not have heard you correctly.” Minho rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t argue with me. Just go,” he points to the adjacent door which connects his room to the singular bathroom in his one bedroom dorm.

He pauses and tries to gather this words, “See, the thing is I didn’t really get a chance to get you clothes…” Lie. “So you could just, I don’t know, wear some of mine?” You stop mid walk and turn on your heel to see Minho with a hoodie and sweats in his grasp.“Please cooperate with me for once.” You sigh and hold out your hands for him to place his clothes in them.

“This is the stupidest idea i think I’ve ever heard come out of your pea-sized brain,” you grumble and stalk into the bathroom unbeknownst to the massive smirk adorning Minho’s face.

You were right when you thought you’d look absurd. Of course you were, anyone could look at you and tell you wouldn’t fit in his clothes. You step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and teeth brushed.

You’re practically swimming in his shirt and you had to tie the drawstring on the sweatpants so tight that it was a literal struggle.

“You were in there for an hour.” He deadpans.

“How’d you know what shampoo I liked,” you ignore him and ask as he eyes you. His gaze drags up your body as you run your fingers through your damp hair.

“I don’t know. Lucky guess?” Minho shrugs it off and folds his arms over his chest.

“Okay then,” you roll your eyes and copy his stance. You two stay silent for a solid ten seconds until he finally speaks,

“This is ridiculous.” He says as he glares at you.

“If anyone’s ridiculous it’s you.”

“Me? You’re the one being an ungrateful brat,” he steps closer to you until you’re face to face, “I’m the one who came to your rescue. I could’ve told Jisung no, could’ve said I had better things to do than save you from yourself.”

You shake your head, “Then why didn’t you? I’m obviously just a bother to you, aren’t I? A burden that you can’t wait to be freed of.”

Minho furrows his brows, “Bullshit. That’s complete and utter bullshit and you know it.”

You inch closer to him so your chests are pressed against one another. “Do I, Minho? Because it seems like you only enjoy being a dick to me,” your hands curl into fists at your sides. Never in the four years you’ve know him would you have ever expected to have an actual argument with him. Usually it’s all meaningless jabs at each other, but right now you can tell that it’s more than that.

Minho’s eyes search yours as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Don’t fucking do that,” his voice comes out in a harsh whisper.

“Do what?”

“Act like the fucking victim of the situation you put yourself in,” His expression has grown agitated which only pisses you off to no end. You decide you’ve had enough and turn away from him to collect your stuff. “What are you doing?”

“I am going to text my roommate and she’s going to take me home.” You don’t bother looking at him as you speak, grabbing your phone off of the nightstand and typing out a ‘send help’ message to your roommate. Before you could send it though Minho has yanked your phone out of your hands. “Seriously?” You huff. He holds it above his head as you poorly attempt to reach for it.

“No. Until you can have an adult conversation with me you aren’t leaving.”

“What, are you gonna hold me hostage? Tie me up?” You realize that was the wrong thing to say when a smug smirk tugs at Minho’s lips.

“You’d like that too much. Wouldn’t you, princess?” Your breath catches in your throat as you fall dead silent. You’re still leaning against him, using him as leverage to get your phone. “Cat got your tongue? Never thought I’d see the day where you’d fail to find a snarky response. Always need to have the last word, don’t you.”

Your brain is so fuzzy, a mix of emotions jumbling your thoughts around. You slowly stand flat and remove your hands from his arms with palms on fire from the contact with his bare skin.

“You’re a dick.” You say while you take a few steps away from him.

“So you’ve said.” Minho stares at you with ice in his gaze. He slides your phone in the pocket of his hoodie and folds his arms over his chest. “You can go when you tell me why you’re doing it.”

“Doing what?” You say though you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You are quite literally self destructing. Why?” He narrows his eyes at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. Unfortunately for him, it’s going to take more effort than that to get you to spill.

“That’s none of your business. Now give me back my phone, I want to go home.”

“No. I’m not just going to sit back and watch my best friend’s sister practically kill herself over something that is probably meaningless.” You keep backing up as he walks towards you until you collide with the wall behind you.

How cliche.

“Just tell me so we can move on with our lives. But just so you know, I will not hesitate to keep you here as long as I have to until you help me understand why you’re acting so stupid when we both know that you’re far from it.”

Minho leans in closer, invading your space and allowing himself to be as close to you as he’ll ever be able to. He cares about you more than he cares about himself. His best friend’s little sister. At this point he’s a walking romance book trope.

“It’s nothing I’m fi-” Before you can utter another word Minho has his index finger pressed against your lips and an eyebrow raised.

“I’m going to give you another chance to rethink your words. Choose carefully.” You roll your eyes, prompting him to drop his hand.

“I’m trying to get over something.” You look down at your hands as you refuse to make eye contact.

“Something or someone?” You sink back against the wall.

You weigh your options: you could either lie to him, or you could confess and hope that you don’t die of embarrassment when he rejects you.

“Someone.” When you finally look up at him you’re surprised to see his boba eyes clouded with - jealousy? No, you’ve got to be imagining it. There’s no way.

“Who?” Are you imagining it?

“Just..someone.” Minho shakes his head as if saying ‘not good enough.’ But you’re not backing down that easily, this is just too good. So you do the next best thing: you mess with him.

“It’s someone from school..?” you wince, the statement coming out as more of a question.

Minho’s eyes narrow and he finally steps out of your way. He stares at you dumbfounded before pulling your phone out of his pocket and holding it out to you. As you reach for it your fingers graze his and you’re reminded of the situation you’ve put yourself in.

“Like I said, meaningless.” Minho’s voice pulls you out of the endless rabbit hole that is your stupid, insecure brain.

All of this for nothing, he thinks. This whole time he was dumb enough to believe that you had feelings for him but instead you were treating it like a joke.

“Whatever, come on.”

Two weeks have passed since you woke up at Minho’s place. Two weeks have passed since you came home trying to determine if you were being delusional or if he actually got jealous of the idea that you were thinking about someone else.

But hey, even if he didn’t actually feel that way you figure it’d be fun to play with him.

Why not? It’s all harmless anyway. What could possibly go wrong?

Luckily for you he’s supposed to be at Jisung’s place, where you happen to have just made a surprise appearance at. Your top tier excuse? There’s family drama that you want to gossip about with him.

Now you’ve finally comprised a seemingly fool proof plan to get a reaction out of Minho. You threw on his hoodie and a pair of shorts before leaving the house.

To your delight when the door opens to reveal Minho sitting on the couch he looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head. He can’t believe you even kept it, let alone willingly wore it. He wonders if it still smells like him or if you washed it, ridding it of any traces of himself.

“Hi, Sungie,” you pull your brother into a hug and make eye contact with Minho over Jisung’s shoulder.

“Why are you- I mean don’t get me wrong, I love it when you visit but like…you never do.” Jisung pulls back and gives you a skeptical look, preparing himself for whatever you’re about to ask him for.

“You never invite me,” you pout and slip past him into the living room. “Did you hear about auntie?” You say, turning to Minho before continuing, “You remember her, right? The one with all the cats, tried to get you to take them all? Yeah, you remember.” You smile before sitting next to him on the couch. Meanwhile Jisung - completely ignoring your babbling - has moved into the kitchen to make you a cup of tea, just like any other time you’ve shown up at his place unannounced.

Once you can tell that he’s out of earshot you look at the boy next to you who is painfully obvious in trying not to look at the exposed skin right underneath where his oversized hoodie, that could be classified as a dress on you, stops.

You look down at your body with an amused pout, “What’s the matter?”

Just as Minho was about to open his mouth your brother comes in with your tea, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

You thank him before crossing your legs and sinking backwards into the couch. You play with the end of your sleeve which goes an inch or two past the tips of your fingers as you wait for someone to speak.

Just as you thought you’d be playing the quiet game for the next three hours Minho answers your silent prayers.

“So, I decided to take a BDSM test,” he says just as you took a sip of tea, you almost choke on it but manage to cover it with a cough.

Jisung’s complaining is drowned out by the words that have been engraved in your brain for the past two weeks,

“What. You gonna hold me hostage? Tie me up?”

“You’d like that too much. Wouldn’t you, princess?”

Touché, you think. This little game has gotten ten times more interesting.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

tags: @skzstarnet @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @solisyeah

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arcaneacolyte · 9 months

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@batcadillac and I were talking about which Ghouls we think know how to drive a car/drive during a road trip and this is what we came up with lol

Swiss: Can drive. He's pretty chill and smooth driver, but he doesn't ever signal, and somehow never gets hit. Takes really convoluted back ways to get places because he claims that, 'I know a way that's faster'. It has yet to be determined whether or not these 'shortcuts' are actually faster. Picks obnoxious radio stations when it's his turn that makes everyone groan, but he puts it on full blast because he thinks it's funny.

Rain: Cannot drive. He vehemently denies that it's because he's a little bit of a klutz, it's more that there are plenty of others in the pack who can, and why should he have to learn if he doesn't want to? He is a passenger princess and will not help with navigation or anything. More than likely he is asleep with his own little travel neck pillow and sleep mask.

Dew: Does not drive. He gets road rage on the driver's behalf, so the idea of him actually driving is too scary of a thought for the others to comprehend. One time he threatened to disembowel another driver for cutting them off. Actually incredibly good at navigation though, so he's usually riding shotgun. The others aren't even sure he actually knows how to drive, and whether he does or not is a moot point, because even if he can't, he's going to pretend like he can. Cumulus: Can drive but doesn't. She gets too much anxiety over it and will 100% cry about it. She almost had a full breakdown trying to merge onto a highway once, so she doesn't have to drive ever. She's is perfectly content in singing along to the radio or playing car games and is really good at heightening the groups morale when it comes to long car rides. Cirrus: Cannot drive. She never really bothered to learn since like Rain, she noticed that there are at least several others in the pack who can and actually like to drive, so what's the point? Unlike Rain though, she's not a passenger princess. She's a master at organization and timing. There's never a missed bathroom break or forgotten item on her watch. Sunshine: Can drive, but she is the most terrifying behind the wheel. Just because she can, doesn't mean she should. She is a speed demon and wants to see how fast she can go. She weaves in and out of traffic because, 'it's fine, I'm not gonna hit anyone'. She has driven Copia exactly once because he almost had a heart attack. Mountain: Can drive. One of the only Ghouls who isn't Multi that can drive a car with ease. Due to his abilities on the drums, the multi-tasking of driving a car is fairly easy in comparison. He is the safest driver and drives calmly and obeys all of the traffic laws. The only unfortunate thing is that he can get physically uncomfortable pretty fast since it's difficult to find a car that fits his height well. Aether: Can drive, but he's not a huge fan. Being a Quintessence Ghoul, with a lot of cars on the road, it can be hard to block out the Quintessence energy coming off of everything, so he has to concentrate really hard to be able to drive as safely as he wants to. Still will drive in a pinch if someone is too tired, but he's really tense and it can lead him into getting a migraine if he does it for too long. Unfortunately there can't be any music or really any conversation over quiet talking, because he might actually implode from sensory overload. Aurora: Can drive. She may be tiny and have to pull the seat all the way forward, but she's one of the best drivers in the pack. Even with her small stature, she loves driving big cars when she gets the chance. She loves being able to see everything, and the actual feeling of driving is pleasant for her. More often than not, besides Mountain, she's the pick for first driver. She will drive until Cirrus tells her that she needs to take a break, but she usually will be the one to volunteer for a second driving shift. Phantom/Aeon: Can't drive. He's the youngest in the pack, so it really isn't expected of him? He also gets too excited about all of the things they pass by, so his distractibility isn't really wanted when it comes to driving. However, he is the keeper of the snacks and drinks and he loves that job. Rations everything out perfectly, and knows what snacks go best together. He is the best at any of the car games and loves to play them with Cumulus.

#ghost bc #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul headcanons #ghoul headcanons #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #aurora ghoulette #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #tag yourself I'm Mountain #not because I'm particularly tall but because my bones/muscles are bad and sitting in a car for long periods of time is painful for me lol

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 3

The part you’ve all been waiting for. Steve and Eddie! We also get the explanation of Edith’s names. True story: A friend of mine got his girlfriend pregnant and she called their daughter Josephine, but he HATED it, so when they broke up, he started calling her Jo to piss the mom off because she hated the nickname.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Eddie Munson got out of his car and was impressed by the members of Harri’s band. It was four member group with a guitarist, a bassist, a drummer and a keyboardist. Not quite like his boys, but they seemed like they knew what they were doing.

He opened his mouth to say hello when he stopped dead in his tracks. Standing up from the drum kit was the female version Steve Harrington. Down to the honey colored hair, the hazel eyes, and the freckles. Her hair was shorter than Steve ever kept it, one side half-shaved and the half over her left eye, but it was the same wild locks that made Steve famous in school. He quickly took a couple of pictures with his phone before his son spotted him.

“Dad!” Harri cried, practically throwing himself at his dad.

Eddie gave him a big hug.

“Sweet place you’re friend’s got here,” he said, looking around the garage, slipping his phone into his back pocket. The house couldn’t have been further from the Harrington place in Loch Nora. It was warm browns and cool blues. And that was just what he could see of the garage.

“Come meet her,” Harri said bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “She kicks ass.”

Eddie laughed and allowed his son to drag him over to the drum kit. “You know Mandy, and this Kenny Grant. And this is the queen of the castle, Miss Thing.”

Edith laughed and shoved her sticks back into the bucket she kept close by. “Hi, Mr Munson.” She stuck out her hand for him to shake and he took it.

“What’s with the moniker?” Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin.

“Most of my friends call me Miss Thing because when I was little I was mute and I loved the Addams Family movies, so because I could sign Uncle Dusty called me Miss Thing,” Edith explained. “But everyone else calls me Edie.”

Eddie’s grin grew bigger. “Edie, huh?”

“My full name is Edith Barbara Harrington,” Edie explained. “My dad wanted to name me Lilian, but my mother overruled him. So when she fucked off, Dad started calling me Edie to piss her off.” She pursed her lips and looked at the ground. Eddie was struck by how much she looked like Steve. “At least he got to chose the middle name.”

Eddie’s smile grew fond. “Barbara’s good name.”

Edie just shrugged her shoulders, “Aunt Nancy was pissed Dad got to it first. But as Dad pointed out she told everyone who would sit down for longer than five minutes that she wasn’t going to have kids so...”

“So your dad won that argument,” Eddie finished. “Losing once and while is good for her.”

Edie laughed. “That’s what Dad said. So when her and Uncle Jon had a little girl while doing some expose in Europe somewhere, she stole Lilian from him.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sounds about right.” He looked around. “I want to let you kids get back to practicing so where’s your dad?”

Edie jerked her thumb at the house. “If it’s as bad as it looked, just follow the sounds of retching, you’ll find him.”

Eddie nodded and made his way to the house but as he turned she could have sworn Mr Munson said, “Still getting migraines, the poor bastard.”

Once he was gone Edie turned to Harri. “Does your dad already know my dad?”

Harri frowned. “I’ve never heard my dad mention a Steve or even the last name Harrington in my life.”

Edie looked at the door that led to the house in confusion. “And I’ve never heard of the name Munson before either.” She turned to him. “What did you say your dad’s first name was?”

“I didn’t,” Harri said with grim expression. “It’s Edmond, but everyone calls him Ed or Eddie.”

Edie’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. No wonder I’ve never heard the name before.”

Harri just nodded.

Mandy spoke up. “Hey, guys can we get back to practice?”

Harri and Edie looked at each other and then nodded.

Eddie heard the retching and his heart ached. He hadn’t thought about Steve Harrington for years. Not since Jay’s funeral. They had fallen out long before then, but Steve had been on his mind that rainy day in Hampshire. Mostly cursing him, but a thought nonetheless.

But now he was so far from that man that knelt there sobbing in the rain begging for Jay to come back, maybe this was the universe’s sign that it was time to mend bridges.

He found Steve right where Edie said he’d be, curled in front of a toilet retching his very empty guts out. He crouched down to the side of him and tapped his shoulder.

“Harri?” Steve murmured.

Eddie huffed out a laugh and signed. “Flatterer.”

Steve rolled over to prop himself against the side of the tub and looked at him more closely. “Eddie?”

Again he signed, “Where’s your hearing aid, rock star?”

“On the sink,” Steve muttered. “And I can hear just fine out of my right ear. It’s just the left one that’s a bitch.”

Eddie laughed and reaching behind him grabbed the aid off the vanity top and put in his pocket. “I don’t think you want this to fall into the toilet or the sink for that matter.”

“Dustin would kill me,” Steve agreed warily.

Eddie flushed the toilet and got a washcloth wet. He handed it to Steve.

Steve flushed a bright pink and used it wipe off his face and some of his shirt where he hadn’t made it to the bathroom in time. He washed his hands and threw it in the laundry basket.

“You know I used to make jokes about basketball being nothing more than shooting balls into laundry baskets,” Eddie teased. “Way to prove me right, Harrington.”

Steve gave a half smile. “Don’t make me laugh, I’ll throw up again.”

“And we definitely don’t want that,” Eddie agreed. “Do you think you’re done with your porcelain throne, your majesty?”

Steve rubbed his face and looked down awkwardly. “If you mean to ask if I’m done throwing up, I should be.”

It came out harsher than he meant to, but he didn’t need Eddie bringing up King Steve, not now.

Because he was looking down he missed the flicker of emotion skitter across Eddie’s face.

“Can you stand?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve tried but ended up lurching his direction instead. Eddie scrambled to catch him.

“Whoa there, Harrington,” Eddie murmured. “I’m going to help you up and then get you to your bed. Please tell me it’s not upstairs.”

“It’s not,” Steve murmured. “It’s just down the hall, third door on the left.”

Eddie got his arms under Steve and lifted him to his feet. He propped him against the wall and then lifted him bridal style. Steve merely moaned and buried his aching head into Eddie’s neck to block out the light that would hit his face once they exited the bathroom.

“All right, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie slipped out of the bathroom and followed Steve’s directions to the bedroom. The door was open so Eddie was able to walk right in without disturbing Steve.

The room was a far cry from the soulless monstrosity that was Steve’s teenaged bedroom. It was blues and greys and soft downy covers. He had pictures of Edie on his night stand and a large white wardrobe.

“Can you make it to the bed if I set you in front of it?” Eddie murmured.

“I should be able to,” Steve said, strained. “I just had a hard time getting up because I’d been on the floor for so long.”

Eddie pursed his lips. Yep. Yep, that was more likely than Steve not being able to walk. Yep.

“But thanks for the assist,” Steve continued, oblivious of Eddie’s internal panic.

Eddie gently let him down and waited until Steve was able to stand on his own before letting go. Eddie turned down the covers and Steve slid in with a sigh of relief. Eddie draped the blankets over him and tucked him in. He pulled out the hearing aid and placed on the nightstand next to Edie’s picture.

“I’ll send Edie to check on you when they’re done with their practice,” Eddie said softly.

Steve nodded and Eddie turned to leave.

“I didn’t name her after you, you know,” Steve whispered.

Eddie’s shoulders sagged and turned back to face him. “So she said.”

“The nickname though...” Steve said with a chuckle.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Steve snuggled further into the pillow. “Mhmm. Did it to piss Addison off.”

There was a story there, Eddie could tell but he didn’t want to press Steve while he was in pain.

“Go to sleep, rock star,” Eddie said instead.

And as he closed the door, Eddie swore he heard Steve murmur, “I missed you.”

Eddie pulled out his cell phone and pressed and held down the number two.

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted. “How are you on this fine spring evening?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Eddie said in that tone that immediately set Dustin’s teeth on edge. It was the tone that said something had gone horribly wrong and it was up to Dustin to fix it.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit.

“Well, Uncle Dusty,” Eddie said with a malicious grin on his face. “You’ll never guess where I am.” He turned his phone around and sent the two pictures to him.

“Hold on I got a couple pictures here...” Dustin said trailing off. “Holy fucking shit! Is that Harri with Edie Harrington? At Steve’s house?!”

“It most certainly is,” Eddie continued. “Would you care to tell me why I wasn’t informed OUR KIDS WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOL!” he whisper-screamed, knowing that Steve was just down the hall and his kid was in the garage.

Dustin pulled the phone away from his ear and rubbed his ear with his finger. “Sheesh, dude. You’re loud. Even when you’re trying to be quiet.”

Eddie pushed his fingers into his eye as he fought to tamp down on his temper. “Dustin...” he said, slow, dark and sharp.

“Look, man,” Dustin said. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I warned you that if you moved back to Indy there was a chance you’d see Steve. And as for your guys’s kids going to the same school, you had to know that was possibility. You moved into the richest neighborhood. Which is where Steve has lived for the last five years.”

Eddie ground his teeth and seethed. Because Dustin was right, the little butthead. He had been warned. A lot of people had warned him.

“Fuck!” Eddie hissed into his phone. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t uproot Harri again. It’d kill him.”

“So don’t,” Dustin said. “You don’t have to interact with Steve outside your kids being in the same band and going to the same school. I don’t think my Mom and Joyce ever spent more than five minutes in each others’ company at time and they liked each other.”

“I don’t think I can do it,” Eddie whispered. “When I came over he was in the throes of one of his migraines and from the look of it, it was one of the bad ones. You know what a bleeding heart I am...”

Dustin sighed. “So you helped with a migraine. You remembered how to do it. Congrats. I still don’t see how you can’t just avoid him in the future. You know,” he said bitterly, “like you have for the last twenty years.”

“Hey,” Eddie bit out. “You know why. You fucking know why.”

Dustin scoffed. “And I still think it’s bullshit. So go on then, why can’t you ignore him now?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let out in a shuddering sigh. “As I was leaving after helping him get back to bed, he said...”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Dustin said. “You helped him to bed?”

“Fuck, Dustin,” Eddie snapped. “Not like that. I just made sure he didn’t fall down.” Which was a lie. But that’s what Dustin got when he insinuated there was more to it than that. “Anyways, he said that he missed me and that though Edith wasn’t his choice, calling her Edie was definitely in honor of me. How the hell am I supposed to walk away from that?”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two and Eddie thought he’d lost the connection.

“No,” Dustin agreed, soft and solemn. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to walk away either.”

“What do I do?” Eddie whined.

“I think you know what to do,” Dustin said. “Stop running away.”

Eddie let out another shuddering breath. “Yeah. It’s time.”

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #reconnecting years later AU #ladykailtiha writes

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astroboots · 1 year

Note

You are such an incredible writer and I love your Homecoming series!

When do you think Boa discovered that her feelings for Santiago weren't just friendly?

Stuck with You

Summary: It's the night before Santiago leaves for deployment.

Pairing: Santiago x female reader (you)

Content: fluff, angst. Young Santiago with his luscious curls who should come with his own warnings really.

Wordcount: 2,900

Homesick Masterlist | Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist

If you're being honest with yourself, you've always loved Santiago. How can you not? After all, he makes it very hard not to.

There are many things you love about him. That gap between his teeth that he's had since you were kids. The crinkles around his eyes when he smiles that started coming in after he returned from his first deployment. Those ridiculously luscious black curls that are finally starting to grow back from his ugly buzz cut now that he's home again.

Been home just about shy of five months, and somehow it's already time for him to go again. Five months that went by far too quickly.

Whenever Santiago is back it's almost like he never left town. You'll come home to him having let himself in with the spare key. He'll be bumming on your shitty IKEA futon. Eating up all the doughy cookie parts of your Ben & Jerry's you have stacked in the freezer (leaving plain vanilla ice-cream in the bottom like a savage). Reading your books that he always puts back in the wrong order on the shelf.

He'll sit there, book in his lap, like he belongs there, slotting in so easily into your life it seems seamless. Making this shitty little apartment feel a little bit less shitty, a little bit less lonely, and just that much more like the home you actually want to return to.

Santiago has that magic skill when he's here.

It's been that way since you were kids. When you lived down the road from him. Your mom would be working late hours between three jobs, leaving you by yourself, and he'd sneak over to yours with R-rated movies he wasn't allowed to watch.

No matter the time, or the location, when Santiago is here, he fills up the space with his presence. He's always made your empty home feel less lonely. It's one of the many things you love about him.

And when he's gone. When he leaves, he takes that with him.

It's why the weeks and days leading up to his deployments always leaves you with a gnawing dread in the pit of your stomach And tonight? The last night before he leaves is always the worst.

The knowledge that after he goes, you'll come back to an empty futon, an empty apartment, an empty home, and you're right back to being a latchkey kid with no one to come home to.

Still you don't want to put a damper on his night. A night amongst a group of old friends, meant to be a last hurrah to send him off again. So you suck it up, you get dressed, put on makeup and you practice your strained smile in the mirror until it's not so strained anymore.

You're just about to call for a cab when you get a text in the group chat.

Santiago

Sorry guys, got a killer migraine and not quite up for it tonight. I'll catch up with everyone next time I'm in town.

You stare at that message for a long time. You don't know how long you stare at it, or how many times you reread it, hoping that the text will change if you keep reading it, before you snap yourself out of it and get out of the dress and wash off the makeup.

You hate the send offs, but you hate the idea that you're not going to see him on his final night even more. Want to clasp onto the last few hours, like the countdown of New Year's eve right before the ball drops, even if it kills you inside.

There's no use moping about it. What are you supposed to do anyhow? Call Santiago and cry about the spilled milk? Guilt him into coming anyhow, migraine and all?

He probably would, if you asked him. You know that.

Because you're his oldest friend and he'd do just about anything for you that you asked him to. Except the one thing you want more than anything. Stay.

No, the best thing to do is to cut your losses, settle in for a night of Korean dramas and finish off the Ben & Jerry's Santiago's left in your freezer. Distract yourself, so you don't think about whether he'll call you in the morning before he leaves so you can at least say bye.

You throw your crumpled up dress into the laundry basket, about to put on sweats and a baggy t-shirt when your eyes linger. Santiago's left his army sweatshirt here.

Rough and scratchy, it's the most depressing washed out gray you've seen. You're surprised he didn't throw it in the trash considering how much he keeps bitching about it. It's probably going to give you the same rashes Santiago gets if you wear it. So you don't know what possesses you and makes you take it out of the basket and put it on. The material itches like there are bugs crawling around your skin the moment you do.

You glance at yourself in the bathroom mirror and almost burst out into a laugh.

What a hideous shirt.

Shaking your head, your hand is already at the hem ready to drag it off and about to release your poor skin from the eczema trap when the scratch of keys at your front door pulls your attention.

The noise stops your heart and has you leaping to the living room just in time for the door to open and Santiago's wild curls pop up like a whack-a-mole.

He barges in pizza boxes first, beer crate second as he haphazardly kicks the door close, without any signs of the "so called migraine" he'd texted your friends about, eyes alert and grinning from cheek to cheek.

"Got us two meat lover's special and your crazy peanut, banana curry pizza," he says as he strides into your kitchen space and sets down the three boxes of pizza along with an overly full grocery bag filled with cookies and snacks.

"You better appreciate this, people standing behind me in line looked at me like I was fucking crazy. You know you're the only one that orders this abomination? Pretty sure you're the only reason they still have it on the menu."

"What are you doing here? Didn't you have a migraine?" you accuse and Santiago doesn't miss a beat, not even looking up as he unpacks the last of the grocery bag.

"Is that my sweatshirt you're wearing?"

It shuts you up quick. You don't say anything more about his miraculously gone migraine and he doesn't push about you wearing his clothes. Instead he reaches into the bag and pulls out a DVD cover depicting a sickle sticking up from the soil with dripping blood in the title: Children of the Corn.

"What do you say, just like old times." Santiago smiles, and when have you ever said no to Santiago?

So you roll out your shitty futon bed. Surrounded by a buffet spread of snacks: Doritos, popcorn, Reese's and spilled beer that will never wash out of your sheets. The movie flickers in the background, but neither of you really pay it any attention beyond the opening.

You're too busy laughing at Santiago's stupid jokes. Too busy imagining the fury in his sister's face, as he tells you about how he used Martina's curling iron to straighten out wrinkles on his shirt and nearly got himself killed.

Too busy cramming your face full of popcorn and loading up on greasy pizza into the early hours in the morning as you're talking about everything and nothing. The bottle of beers long polished, but neither of you inebriated enough to account for the way you're both slurring. You're both half-asleep. You just don't want to miss a beat of a second with him until he has to go. So when a traitorous yawn breaks out and Santiago asks if you need to sleep, you lie.

"Not sleepy, just tipsy."

"What about you? Don't you need sleep?"

He smiles, and you can't help but smile back at him. At the way his eyes are half lidded, and the messy thick curl that's spilled onto his forehead lingers.

He shakes his head gently at your question. "I can sleep on the plane."

There's a small pang of pain piercing somewhere deep in your ribs. Like someone stuck a thumbtack in there and you can't reach in and pull it out.

Your smile wants to drop, but you fight it, because you don't want to make a scene. Don't want to make it harder for you both than it already is. You just need to smile and get through it.

Not that it works, Santiago can see through your crap in two seconds flat. His own smile drops, the drowsy expression in his face much too sober all of a sudden.

"What you wanna do when I get back?" he asks, switching the subject.

Back. Cause he will be back, is what he's telling you without drawing attention to the fact that you're near tears.

Eight months from now, you remind yourself and you try to compile a list of all the things you can look forward to doing together.

But you can't think of anything, mind drawing blank.

"The new Kill Bill will be out," Santiago suggests, filling in the space of your silence. "We'll go together. You're also going to have to come as my plus one for my cousin Diego's wedding in September. Otherwise my mom is going to try to set me up with some "nice" girl again," he moans drawing quotation marks around the word, nice, like it's a curse.

"Need you to intercept my mom's nagging. Don't want her to go on about grandkids again. I'm barely the legal age to buy a beer, I don't understand why she's talking about grandkids like my sperm is running against an expiry date. It's not a carton of milk."

You snort with laughter and nearly choke on your spit, and when you turn to look at him, Santiago looks way too pleased with himself at making you laugh.

"It's because she's worried you're going to knock up some rando you meet at a bar one of these days, and then you'll be stuck with them for life."

Santiago just grins, "nah, the only woman I'm stuck with is you."

He doesn't mean it romantically. You know that. But still you can't help the wide smile pulling at the corners of your mouth or stop the warmth that blooms in your chest at his words.

Can't stop staring like a pathetic loon at his face when Santiago's eyes tilt up towards the ceiling, before his eyes flashes in that way it does when he thinks he has a brilliant idea.

He snaps his fingers, abruptly and much too loud for this time of the night and nearly jumps off your futon in his excitement.

"That's what I should do to shut my mom up! Just marry you! It'll be great — won't have to listen to her nag. She won't try to set me up with any more "nice" catholic girls from church."

You don't know what comes over you. You know better. Should have stopped Santiago, thrown a pillow in his face and told him to shut up before he got himself too excited.

But you don't, because when you see the animated expression on his face, the way his eyes are wide open, eyebrows shot up with a big open-toothed smile, describing your hypothetical future together, your stomach flutters. Your cheeks warm when he tells you how your kids would have his amazing hair and your "angry looking eyes", and he'd sing your kids Metallica songs as their lullabies and you can teach them why Hemingway is a really shitty and overrated writer.

He looks at you, waiting for you to laugh at each one of his fantastical details, as if he was doing a bit in a standup comedy. Like this is all a joke and terribly funny. Because Santiago is telling it like a joke, but you can almost see it in front of you.

Two kids, close in age so they’ll always have each other and never have to feel alone the way you did growing up. A dog, a big one, and a fluffy one at that, that will shed and leave fur everywhere and Santiago will bitch about how it keeps getting into all his clothes. A house, not a gaudy McMansion house. It doesn't even have to be big or special, just a home. Filled with people that are waiting for you, instead of another empty apartment and a note on the refrigerator letting you know there's frozen pizza you can heat up for dinner.

"We'll name our first after my mom. She will never be able to complain about anything about me again," Santiago jokes.

And that's the problem with all of this. Everything he's describing. This hypothetical future that's your dream. It's Santiago's worst nightmare -- a horrible, disfigured joke.

A house and a family that he is beholden to, and would never be allowed to leave out of a sense of duty— you might as well lock him up in chains and throw away the keys.

You've known it since the first day they met. Santiago has adventure and ambition thrumming underneath the veins of his flesh. Can barely stand still for more than five minutes in one spot before his whole body vibrates with impatience. His feet itches to take a leap and dive headfirst into adventure and the unknown.

You know all of this because you know Santiago, maybe better than anyone. So you don't know why you would open your mouth to ask him, the one question you never ask anymore.

"Would you stay?"

His mouth works, eyes still glinting with something warm and adoring, as if his first instinct is to say yes— and then you can see it, the moment that his brain catches up with your question and he realizes what you're asking him.

Can practically hear the needle drop and pierces through the happy bubble. Can see the second that the laughter and mirth in Santiago's eyes dim. His words catch in his throat as he stares at you until he has to look away.

Because you know… no matter how much you mean to him. Hell, even if he wanted to, he would never be able to. He would never stay.

Not for you, not for anyone.

When words find him again, Santiago sounds flustered and apologetic, fingers running through his disarrayed curls in that way he does when he knows he's fucked up.

“Yeah, no, I’m drunk. Sorry, just ignore me.”

An awkward silence that is so unlike any space the two of you find yourselves in, fills your tiny apartment. You can feel the weight of it sitting on your chest like lead.

The only thing you can hear is the gears in Santiago's brain turning, as he's trying to find the words to make this right and fix it.

Even in the dark you see the way his mouth opens and closes, two seconds away from apologizing, "Boa, I—"

Except, he has nothing to apologize for, you're just being selfish. You want a life that this man is incapable of giving. Something that you've always known and he's never tried to trick you otherwise.

You roll to your side until you're facing him, putting on your best attempt at a smile that you've practiced all day in the mirror. Then you give him a playful pat on his cheek to let him know that you're just fucking with him.

"I know what you meant idiot. Go to sleep, you have a flight tomorrow".

Santiago's eyes are still homed in on yours. Wide and sorry, brimming with guilt. You can tell that he's trying to decide whether to untangle the tangled knot that he's accidentally stuck his foot into or just let it go. Trapped in the indecision of this moment.

So you makes the decision for him. "Sleep, or there's no fucking way I'll be able to drive you the airport tomorrow."

There's a hesitant nod, accompanied by a quiet murmur of an "ok", against the flickering light from the TV Screen.

You reach behind you for the remote to turn it off and the whole room is swallowed by the pitched darkness.

It's better this way.

This way you won't be able to see him or what expression he's making.

Except, that doesn't happen. Even in the dark you can see him. It doesn't matter that your eyes are tightly shut, cause you've known this man so long, for so many years, that you've committed every inch of his face to memory.

Know him so well that you know that his eyebrows are knitted into a worried pinch of a frown. Lips pressed together into a thin line as he stares into the darkness of the ceiling before he can't help himself and those thick lashes of his flutter shut.

Something brushes up against your calf, and then his knee nudges yours.

"I really love you, y'know," he murmurs.

And it's all you can do to stop yourself from breaking, to quell that ugly sob you can feel lodged somewhere between your throat and chest.

"I know Santiago, I love you too."

How can you not? He just makes it very hard sometimes.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

#oscar isaac #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #homecoming #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #cici writes

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bornincaldecott · 2 months

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I didn't really get into Romy in '97 too much in my post-episode 2 brain dump last night, and while I'd like to say that was completely intentional because I was planning a second brain dump dedicated to them...that's not the case. Not entirely, at least.

Like I said, it was late when I was finally able to watch episode 2 (was fighting an absolute terror of a migraine), and my post last night was already getting long. I was exhausted but I needed to get my thoughts out of my head.

But now that I'm more coherent and feeling somewhat better (migraine's a persistent bastard), let's get into it!

My Romy heart was so happy seeing them together. This era of them is probably my favorite. Yes, of course I love how far they've come since this, and of course I'm obsessed with them being married, but there's something about this part of their relationship — the pining, the angst, the romanticized chaos — that just slaps.

Maybe it's because I do know what the future holds for them, and seeing what led them there, everything they went through and endured, is such a testament to how much they love each other.

Remy has so much faith in Rogue, even this early in their relationship (although I guess they've been together for at least 5 years by the time '97 kicks off). "Rogue always comes to Gambit's rescue"? PLEASE. I know that was supposed to be a throwaway because they're teasing Scott but COME ON.

They gave us so many little glimpses into their relationship. Romy nation was fed well. Like when Rogue's hanging on him after the sentinel fight?

Look how proud she is of him. That face? "Yeah, that's my man."

They seem so comfortable with each other, and it makes me so happy I was misty-eyed watching. Apparently not comfortable enough though because...y'know...

Now that I've slept on things, though, I wonder if they're actually going to go full-on Rogueneto. Yes, they hinted at it, and yes, some tension was introduced, but maybe it'll get nipped in the bud before it becomes a whole thing. This is cheating, but there's another trailer where we see Kurt bamf between them, and you can tell that Remy had his arms around Rogue right before that. The fact that we have that trailer tells me that Kurt is going to be introduced sooner, rather than later (but I could be wrong). So that makes me think that Mags might be a bump in the road, but not an all-out hurdle they have to clear.

That doesn't make it hurt any less 'cause BOY HOWDY does it hurt. But even the strongest ships sometimes have to sail through storms before they can make it back home to the harbor, their endpoint.

I doubt we'll get it, but there is a part of me that's holding out hope that, in light of the Rogueneto angle, we'll get the "home and harbor" speech at some point, albeit with a different lead up. I don't think we will but GOD I WOULD SOB. Maybe Remy's VA has Cameo. I'd shell out the cash for that.

#xmen 97 #rogue x gambit #romy #home and harbor

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silverstagspirit · 1 year

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Survivor of Ramshackle - part 2

Part two is here!

Warnings: Swearing, dark themes, death, lots of death, gore, blood, body horror, vomiting, dead bodies, I am not responsible for what you read.

PART 1 PART 3

Everything was flying by so fast. The second they stepped through the portal, it felt like all their insides were being rearranged. Yuu flew past universe by universe. Saw shapes beyond human comprehension, colors that don't exist, and sounds that could never be fathomed. Closing their eyes helped a little, but they were still being thrown around like a rag doll through the space-time continuum. After about 15 minutes of absolute hell, they blacked out. When they regain consciousness, they are lying in the dirt of some unknown place. They picked themselves up. Their body felt like lead. They were sure they were going to have a migraine after this. Looking around, they realized this was a plot of unused land that was located near their hometown. Then it clicked.

They made it

Yuu knew the way to their house from here, so they wasted no time in running home. Heavy pants exhaled from their chest as they sprinted home. Nothing could hold them back anymore. They were finally home. They were giggling like a madman between breaths, and before they knew it, they were already talking out loud to the family members they were yet to meet again.

"MOM!! DAD!! I'M HOME!! I MADE IT!! I KNOW YOU ARE PROBABLY WORRIED, I CAN EXPLAIN!! SOMETHING TOOK ME AWAY BUT I'M SAFE NOW! I HAD SO MUCH FUN THERE WAS MAGIC I SAVED PEOPLE I LEARNED SO MUCH I MADE NEW FRIENDS YOUR GOING TO LOVE THEM SO MUCH I-"

Yuu stopped dead in their tracks. Their town was there. But it was reduced to rubble, ash, and crumbling ruins. There was still smoke coming from the leftover embers.

"..."

They didn't know what to say. The world tilted on its axis. Before they could pass out, however. Yuu found themselves running to their already intended destination. Charred corpses littered the streets of what was once their home. There was complete silence save for their swift, heavy footfalls against the broken tar of the roads, and the increased pounding in their chest. Rounding the block, they could see the sign for their street. It was bent and burnt bit still recognizable. With the last of their stamina, Yuu made the final push to their house. Seeing their home as nothing but a pile of rubble and ash is a sight they never wanted to see. But this is really happening right now. This realization hits even harder when they see their parents charred corpses next to the rubble.

"No," they whispered. Utterly shattered. They were shaking at this point . Both from physical exhaustion and the emotional trauma being inflicted on them. With a shaky hand, Yuu slowly reaches down and holds the skeletal hand of one of their parents. Nothing could stop Yuu from breaking down. Yuu's screams of pure agony filled the sky as tears and snot cascaded down their face. They barely registered themselves falling to the ground and weeping on all fours. It didn't matter. For there was only one thing that existed right now: PAIN.

Yuu whole body hurt like it never did before. There was something coursing through their veins that felt like lava. It was another factor in their screaming. Yuu's throat got tired after the outburst and just gave up after a while. They could only wheeze now as they fell into misery. Not like they even had the energy to make any sound anymore.

Yuu did not wish to look at the ruins of their home anymore. So they lurched their way into the street. Looking down the road, they saw a pile of bodies heaped high. What caught their eye about this, however, is the flag pole that was stuck in the middle on top. The flag had an insignia of some kind. It was threatening. The triangular red flag flowed in the wind like a trail of blood in water. The insignia mocked them of being unable to save their family.

Yuu trudged their way to a lake. Their skin paling and sweat cascaded down thier face with every step they took. Setting eyes on the water, they went to the edge and stuck their whole head in. They felt so thirsty. Yet no matter how much they drank, it still was not enough. Their entire stomach was now filled with water, yet they still needed more. What was happening to them? Their breaths had been labored for some time now, but now they were becoming even more intense. Yuu began to feel nauseous. Something weird was happening inside them. That weirdness turned into pain as they suddenly vomited a whole ton of blood. There was just a thick stream of blood coming from Yuu's mouth, straight into the lake. It was a horrifying sight. Yuu is just emptying out an entire bodies worth of blood. The blood coming out changed from red to black as now they had no blood left in them. Yuu identified the substance even in this state:

Blot

Then it started happening. Yuu was overblotting.

They were so tired they could only slouch there as thier body morphed and changed. Fingers growing sharp claws. Hair turning pitch black. They could feel their clothes changing and materializing more features. Their right eyeball burned like it was on fire. The ink seeping into shapes down their face. The process was surprisingly calm. As if this whole thing would bring them peace. At last.

The ink around them started to morph into a shape. The shape grew features as more ink accumulated around it. The shape began to form into a creature. This creature looked like a biblically accurate angel. Because it was constantly changing between different forms of different creatures. It finally settled on one form, however. It was the form of a three-headed dragon with two tails and a pair of giant wings. Each of the three heads had a crown atop their cracked glass skulls. This thing beared uncanny resemblance to an antagonist Yuu saw in a monster movie once. But judging how it looked like an eldritch creature beforehand, this thing probably has multiple forms like this. That and they remembered seeing somewhere that a multi-headed dragon is one of the forms of the devil.

Yuu's transformation reached its end as they opened their eyes. The fatigue they were feeling earlier was now completely gone as they felt like they could take on the world. They felt so good. They felt powerful, too. They wanted to see for themselves if that was true. They attempted to fire a spell they saw the boys use towards some rubble. To their surprise, a burst of magic sprung forth from their hand and completely demolished it in the blink of an eye. This was amazing. They could do magic now. It made them feel a little bit better. But they were still alone in this world now. Alone, except for their monster. The three-headed dragon peered down at them with its soulless eyes. There was electricity crackling where its mouth should be. It didn't have that many features on its face. But if it did, it would have the face of: "What are you? You are the only living thing here. Do not cross us."

Yuu looked at the creature. The creature looked at them. This was their phantom. This thing would eventually kill them. They knew this, yet they couldn't bring themselves to turn it away. This was the only company they had left. Their family was gone. Their home was gone. And their friends in Twisted Wonderland would never think to look for them. They would die completely alone. Without anyone here to save them. Or even know what happened to them. This was it. The end.

They could still do something. The blot was meddling with their mind. But a part of Yuu's morals were still trying to function in a way. But it came out twisted. Their goal now was to destroy whatever killed their people. To stop this from happening to any other world out there. They will end this madness even at the cost of their own life if they must.

Floating their way to the pile of dead bodies they passed earlier, Yuu pulled the flag pole out the heap, snapped it in half over their knee, and threw it away.

Sorry this took so long. I hit a brick wall of writers block. Also, I am now doing this series with they/them pronouns as you may have seen. Once again, I apologize for any mistakes. I did not proofread this. Hope you enjoyed it.

Taglist: @kami-kun1003

#twisted wonderland #twst #yuu #overblot #overblot yuu #angst #twst angst #twisted wonderland angst #tw: dark themes #tw: dead bodies

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thatblackravenclaw · 1 year

Text

why wait until we get home?

Blog Details | Let’s take a trip

Neville Longbottom x black!fem!reader

warning(s): smut with plot, drunk reader (established relationship), public sex, slight dom/sub undertones, p in v, cockwarming, no condom, squirting, cursing, creampie, cum eating

word count: 1k

“We’re almost there babe. Just ten more steps.” My stomach spins as I try to focus on his voice. I’m about to puke my guts out, but at least I won £20.

Five steps later we made it to the bus stop. I let go of Neville’s hand and hold on to the pole as I bend over to heave. Nothing is coming out. It’s like it evaporated. His hand rubs in circles on the middle of my back. My ponytail feels tight and I feel a migraine coming on. I stand up as the light on the sidewalk gets brighter. The automatic doors open and Neville holds my hand. I follow him up the stairs. I hear two beeps before he leads us deeper into the bus. There aren’t many people as it is 2 o’clock in the morning.

“Can I sit on your lap Nev?”

“Do you promise to behave?”

“Scouts honor.” I raise three fingers to show how serious I am.

“You were never in the scouts,” he laughs as he helps situate me on his lap.

The bus takes off suddenly and I accidentally hop on his lap. I hear a groan from behind me, but it’s not from pain.

“Sorry,” I squeak as I lean back against him. My skirt is splayed on his lap. The only barrier between us is his clothes and my underwear. The bumps on the road don’t seem to seem to cease. I rock against him with each one.

“Baby,” he warns.

“I can’t help it.” I defend.

But what if I can? I look around the bus and everybody is either asleep or too tired to pay attention to us. I slowly grind against him. His hands gravitate to my hips and stop me.

“Please, babe? I just want to play.” I turn to him with my big, doe eyes. He sighs as one of his arms reaches around my waist.

“We’re in public.”

“No one is paying attention to us.”

I scooch off of his crotch to his thighs. I reach behind me and slowly unzip his pants. I pull down on his briefs enough to let his cock free from the restraint.

“You know I’m not quiet when it comes to sex,” he whispers the last word.

“It’ll be okay. Just mark me whenever you feel like you’ll make too much noise.”

I pull my panties to the side and lift myself until I’m directly over his ever growing cock. My eyes do one last sweep to make sure no one is paying attention to us before I slip the tip inside of me. The bus hits a pothole and Neville accidentally slips all the way inside of me. I slap my hand over my mouth and Neville tucks his head into my neck. His teeth sink into the flesh and my grip around my mouth tightens. I look around and everyone else is still preoccupied in their own worlds. My walls become accustomed to his size and I trust myself to put my hand down. I lean against his chest. His hands lay on my stomach and I can practically feel his heartbeat on my back.

“Good boy.” I raise a hand and run my fingers through his hair to calm him.

I moan at the bruise that is now forming on my neck. I don’t even care about the rest of the people on the bus anymore. My arousal is becoming evident. I slightly shift my position and he slips deeper inside of me. I clench on reflex and I feel his teeth bite a little harder and a groan rises through his throat.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” I coo to try to get him to loosen his grip.

“Sorry,” he whimpers. I tell him it’s okay and slowly grind my hips over him.

I can just barely hear the noises my slick makes when our skin rubs against each other. I raise my skirt up to see the mess. The milky white substance contrasts with my dark skin and I crave to see more of it. With this idea in mind, I lean forward on the seat in front of us and lightly bounce on him. My eyes squeeze shut and unintentionally hold my breath. His hands make a home on my hips. I slightly look back and see his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and I can tell he’s trying so hard not to make noise. His cock twitches inside of me which makes my walls constrict around him and my clit throbs. I look back forward and reach my hand down to rub my clit while speeding up my bounces. His tip is kissing my cervix. It’s getting harder to stave off my orgasm. He lightly taps my thigh and I lean back against his chest. The position makes me lose momentum, but he continues thrusting up inside of me.

“I think I’m going to cum.” *he hoarsely whimpers into my ear. I look down and lift my skirt to see the action. I notice the cream that covers his shaft. The sound it makes as our skin slaps against each other is lewd. The throbbing in my clit increases and I feel the band in my abdomen about to snap.

“Fuck it,” he says. His grip on my waist tightens as he ruts into me. His whimpers turn to moans. The melodic sound is right in my ear which triggers my orgasm. The cream washes off as my arousal soaks his dick and makes a pitter patter sound on the floor. My thighs are shaking and my body becomes overstimulated. A second later, ropes of his cum shoot into me. I squeeze my legs together and sigh with content. I feel completely sober as I relax into his arms.

“Do you think they heard that?” He asks. We both lowly laugh as I stand up. His cum drips out of my pussy and on to his softening cock. A “fuck” whispers out of his lips. I push more cum out of me and completely remove myself from his leg space. I lean down lick all of his cum off of him. I hear his head knock on the back of his seat and his thighs tremble.

“You’re evil.” He says with his eyes closed. He opens them as I swallow the rest of his cum.

“You love it.” A mischievous smile graces my lips as I think about what I’m going to do to him when we get home.

Neville Masterlist | United Kingdom

#Neville Longbottom #neville longbottom smut #Harry Potter Smut #Neville longbottom x fem!reader #black!reader #harry potter fanfiction #Neville Longbottom Imagines #neville longbottom x you

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j1gsawz · 2 months

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OKAY GUYS. HERE IT IS…

Xrayshipping / Loganzep headcanons

(this is kinda long so be warned but i beg you to read it i need others to hear me out on this random ship i accidentally created while trying to think of someone to ship logan with)

zep lives au:

so basically i’ve created this au where zep survives because adam wasn’t strong enough to actually bash his head in so zep crawled out of the bathroom (after amanda killed adam or saved adam or whatever you wanna go with) and was able to not get arrested (don’t ask me how because i don’t know. maybe he was able to convince the police he was actually forced to hold alison and diana hostage and come up with a convincing lie that he doesn’t know what happened to detective tapp)

this whole thing could also just be worked into zep just becoming one of john’s apprentices if you ignore that he failed his test. i prefer my interpretation though since i don’t think zep would ever want to be an apprentice.

after his encounter with adam, zep has scars across the side of his face, and there’s very small patches on his head where hair isn’t able to grow anymore. he of course got a severe concussion from the beating too, and he now gets headaches and migraines a lot. (i really don’t know how the scars would look or if the hair thing makes sense and googling “blunt force trauma scars” like my friend suggested… did not work to say the least)

he often wears beanies or has his hood up to try to cover some of the scars. (this later on will lead to logan constantly calling him handsome and beautiful)

obviously zep quits his job at the hospital, and he ends up working at some shitty restaurant in a mall food court where he eventually reunites with logan

zep and logan already vaguely knew each other from working at the same hospital (zep always had a lowkey hallway crush on logan)

logan was shocked to see zep had survived, as john never told him and logan never had any reason to go to the bathroom.

zep was at first unaware that logan was now john’s apprentice, but eventually he figured it out. it made him really nervous at first, which made logan upset. after many conversations with logan, zep grew to trust him again

in general, zep is a lot more on edge after his test, and is almost constantly anxious unless he’s with logan. he’s always scared lawrence is going to find out he’s alive and hunt him down for what he did to alison and diana. (logan would eventually talk to lawrence about it and make sure it was safe for zep to be around the other apprentices… not that zep even wants to be around them that often)

general / cute relationship stuff:

after logan and zep reunite, they start “hanging out” a lot (they’re basically going on dates but neither of them will admit it)

logan is bi and zep is gay and transmasc (no cis man is named sheppard. btw that is his canon full name according to the script ^_^)

zep has never been in a relationship before, so he’s very inexperienced with everything that comes with being in one (but he’s usually not shy about it. just nervous. i dont want him to be some shy blushing twink because he’s NOT that he is a little weirdo)

logan on the other hand has been in some relationships before, but never anything too intense. or anything with a man. so it’s new for both of them.

zep fell in love first, obviously. he was down bad the moment logan was nice to him. logan fell for zep not long after, although he denied it at first.

i also headcanon zep as being autistic, so I think he’d have a lot of unique ways of showing his affection for logan, who would find all of these absolutely adorable. (he’d do something stupid like point at a crushed monster energy can next to a crushed root beer can on the side of the road and be like “that’s so us” and logan would shed a tear out of pure joy)

logan is very careful and gentle with zep, always making sure he’s comfortable and feels safe.

if is an au where adam survives… logan would absolutely detest him for hurting zep. He wouldn’t harm adam, of course, but he would just glare and stare at him angrily while adam tries to figure out wtf is going on. i don’t think zep would hate adam for what happened; he understands very well the circumstances of john’s games.

zep listens to music like oingo boingo and the cure, but logan is a full on country guy and it drives zep insane. eventually logan gets into better music but still brainrot popular radio stuff like nsync & the backstreet boys.

zep will deny this, but he thinks the scars on logan’s back are very attractive in a way. he is actually so physically attracted to logan it makes him dizzy.

random logan headcanon: i think he is southern and moved to [whatever city saw takes place in] when he got older. sometimes his old accent will peak through in his voice, and boy oh boy did zep immediately start having some interesting thoughts about logan dressed as a cowboy the first time he noticed it.

and that’s it for now!! i really wanted to make this post cuz i’ve been fixated on logan & zep for almost two months now and i’ve been completely alone :’) this is all probably really out of character for them but i dont care i love them so much. if anyone makes content of them (PLEASE DO IM BEGGING YOU) feel free to tag me cuz i would absolutely love to see it!!

bonus playlist:

#saw #saw franchise #zep hindle #logan nelson #xrayshipping #loganzep #saw 2004 #jigsaw 2017 #unrelated tags for traction cuz im desperate:#chainshipping #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #lynnmanda #shotgunshipping #piranhashipping #Spotify

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blainesebastian · 2 years

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i don’t get sick (ccg universe)

words: 2,439 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): austin tending to sick reader notes: part of the coffee cart girl universe but can be read alone :) warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

How you’ve gone from delivering coffees on set to watching on the sidelines as people actually act out the lines you’ve written in a script sometimes just goes right over your head. Like you’re aware that this was obviously the end goal, this creational transfer, to see your words actually brought to life in a scene. It’s surreal and incredible and you’re also attempting not to look a gift-horse in the mouth because you’re aware that it could all go downhill at any moment. You’re not asking for the film to be some sort of blockbuster box-office success but…you’d like your parents to see it, Austin too? You’re going to be proud of it no matter how well it does because you’ve earned that.

But at the same time? You also want it to have every opportunity to be perfect…which is why you’re not sure if the lead actor is going to work for you.

You literally cannot believe you’re thinking about this again.

You’ve already run Austin down the very long conversational road on how when you were there with the casting director during auditions, everyone felt like they had found the perfect cast for the roles. But…the longer you watch this lead work with your script, the more you feel as if they’ve made some sort of mistake. You’re trying to give a little grace; Austin suggests you speak more with the actor and director on how to hone the character in your script but…something just doesn’t feel right.

Are you overreacting? Are you being too much of a perfectionist? There’s this headache pinching its way to your temples, a pounding in your ears as you pace slowly in front of your couch where Austin is. He’s sprawled out on the cushions, your cat on his lap, watching you walk back and forth as he pets between the feline’s ears,

“I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind,” You continue, running a hand over your face. “I dunno what to do—it’s too late to get another lead, I mean, we’ve been shooting scenes Austin. So I’m just supposed to what,” You stop pacing and look down at him, gesturing with your hand, “grit my teeth and bare it?”

Austin takes a short breath in through his nose, “Look, first I just want you to stop puttin’ a hole in the floor.”

You look down at your feet and roll your eyes but there’s a hint of a smile tugging your lips. Fine, you’ll stop pacing.

“Second—trust the casting director and yourself. You obviously saw somethin’ in this actor when you saw him audition right? That’s how he got the part. Maybe there’s some sorta disconnect goin’ on now. He’ll get it.”

Sighing you nod your head a little—you know Austin is right. Maybe you’re just overdoing it? Once again so concerned with something to be perfect, no mistakes, that you can’t even enjoy the process. Just because things don’t feel right yet doesn’t mean they won’t ever be. You know that this lead role isn’t as consuming as what Austin had to do for Elvis but, in context, that was two years of his life that he had to settle in. Maybe this actor for your script just needs a little time to find where he fits.

“Y/N,” Austin waits until your eyes meet his gaze, “You know how much grace to give him, alright? If it keeps feelin’ wrong, put your foot down until it’s right.”

You nod softly—right, okay, right. Gonna take it one day at a time, see where they’re at by the end of the week. That headache that was settling on your temples suddenly takes a sudden and jagged poke behind your eyes, making your draw in a sharp breath. One hand goes to your temples, rubbing at them with your thumb and middle finger.

“You gettin’ a migraine?” Austin asks, concern mapping along his voice. You can hear him stand from the couch, approaching you before putting a gentle hand on your arm.

“No,” You clear your throat, pulling your hand away, “No, I’ve had a headache for the past few days. Just comes and goes.”

He hums lightly, pushing your hair over your shoulder. His hand settles on your neck, tipping your chin back with his thumb so that you’re looking up at him. His eyebrows draw together a little as he looks you over,

“You look flushed baby.”

Opening and closing your mouth, you shake your head because you are…he is not going there. “M’all worked up.”

Austin smirks a little, thumb running along your jawline, “I’ve seen you worked up before, it’s not this.” You’re about to say something else when his hand moves to touch your forehead and you attempt to bat him away because—

“I’m not sick.” You’re just not. You have no time at all to be sick, the headache is from stress probably, not getting enough sleep or eating enough. That’s it.

“Oh so we’re gonna be stubborn?” He asks, “Shocking—that’s cute.”

You huff dramatically, pushing him away a bit with a hand on his chest even though you don’t really want him to go anywhere. Austin knows exactly what to do with his proximity and regardless that he’s annoying it works every single time. He tears down your defenses, your walls, makes you completely comfortable…which you suppose in general is never a bad thing.

But in this case? You are trying to prove a point and you are definitely not sick because you’re too busy to be. Just ain’t happening.

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m just tellin’ you like it is—you’re wrong. I don’t get sick; I have an impeccable immune system.”

Austin laughs a little, “Oh I’m wrong?” He shakes his head, planting a quick kiss to your hairline. “Alright, whatever you say.”

“That’s right whatever I say,” You mumble to yourself as he pulls back, possibly a bit petulantly. Should have just lied and said it was a migraine to have Austin help you into bed and make a cup of a tea.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you let out a long breath.

You are definitely not getting sick.

You wake up about an hour before your alarm and roll over in a fitful attempt to fall back asleep. The sheets are sticking to you, your body is hot, and the heat from Austin which is usually comforting is making you feel like you want to peel your skin off. Throwing the comforter back, you pull yourself from bed. The minute your feet hit the floor, you’re overwhelmed with nausea and quickly walk to the bathroom, not closing the door completely behind you. Once your feet are on the cold tile, you feel a little bit better, wiping sweat from your forehead as you glance at your very pale face in the mirror.

Oh no.

Your cheekbones are splotched pink, you’ve got chills, skin heated, slightly congested, and a ringing in your ears from the headache.

You’re sick—you cannot fucking believe this.

Groaning in miserableness, frustration and fatigue, you turn the water on to wet a washcloth to at least wash your face. You run the fabric along your hairline, cheeks and then finally wipe along the back of your neck. The door creaks open slightly and you pray it’s your cat but of course it’s Austin, leaning against the doorframe to look in on you.

“You alright?” He asks softly, tone concerned as he gives you a once over. His voice is caked with sleep, slightly gruffer in some places, dirty blonde hair mussed in a bunch of directions. You’d love nothing more than to tell him you were fine and to go back to sleep, but you already know you won’t be able to fake anything.

Sighing, you shake your head as the room starts to spin and you slowly take a seat on the closed toilet seat, “Please don’t say ‘I told you so’ when I’m dyin’.”

There’s a soft laugh from Austin as he comes into the bathroom, crouching in front of you. “I wouldn’t do that—I’ll at least wait until you’re feelin’ better.”

You smile despite how terrible you feel, shaking your head as Austin pushes your hair away from your face so he can get a better look at you. He smooths some back from your forehead, leaning up to press a long kiss to your hairline.

“I think you have a fever.” He whispers, gently kissing your cheek.

You want to tell him not to bother or fuss, the last thing you want to do is to get him sick too but he doesn’t seem like he cares or that he’s going anywhere. Ironically he can be quite stubborn too…but in this case? You’re grateful.

“Let’s change your clothes, get you back into bed.” He stands up.

Sniffling, you move to take off the shirt you wore to sleep in, “I gotta go to set.”

Austin scoffs, “You are not goin’ anywhere.” His voice is firm, shaking his head as he puts the shirt in the hamper before disappearing into the bedroom. He brings back one of his sweatshirts, the black waffle-knit one that’s super soft and helps you pull it on over your head.

Crinkling your nose, “Austin, you know what I’m dealin’ with there, I have to go.”

“Yeah, all this stressing you’re doin’ is probably why you’re sick.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, feeling a wave of emotion crash right into you that you do your best to swallow down. You know he’s right but…at the same time? You can’t help but feel like some sort of failure—which you know makes no sense but…this is your first big thing, your first step into a world that you thought was closed off to you. Missing a day just feels like you’re already letting yourself down.

“Look at me,” Austin murmurs and you can tell he’s crouched down again, your eyes opening to see him eyelevel with you. “There is no shame in takin’ care of yourself, okay? You’ve worked so hard for this, staying home to get better does not somehow translate into you bein’ less.” He holds your gaze for a long moment, making you swallow over a lump in your throat,

“You understand me?”

You nod softly, sniffling, running a hand over your cheek. “You’re pretty good at 6am bathroom pep talks.”

Austin smirks, moving to wrap his arms around you, “Grab onto my neck.”

Once you do that, he hooks an arm underneath your legs and scoops you up bridal style to take you back into the bedroom. Setting you down on your side of the bed, he pulls the sheets back to help tuck you right back in.

You sigh softly, running a hand through your hair—maybe with some extra sleep you’ll bounce back in a few hours (or at least that’s the hope). Regardless, Austin promises to call in sick for you, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“Are you leaving?” You ask, your eyes already closing.

“I’ll be here—just gonna run out and get some groceries.” But you’re asleep before you can reply.

The next time you wake up, you have no idea what time it is. Completely disoriented, you reach out for the bed beside you but the sheets are cold. Your head is pounding and you run a hand over your face to try and figure out which way is up. Groaning a little, you push yourself up in bed and pull the sheets back. Your head is clouded and that’s putting it kindly…you feel like your brain might actually resemble a shrink-wrapped piece of ham at this point. Blindly pushing the bedroom door open, you frown as you attempt to get your bearings and look for Austin.

You wander through the apartment, eventually finding your boyfriend in the kitchen where he’s…

“Are you making soup?”

He turns a little to look at you, a soft laugh leaving his lips. “Yeah, I told you I can cook you know.”

Pulling the sleeves down over your hands, you walk in, sniffling, looking around at the various ingredients. He really went to the store to buy things to make chicken soup from scratch—no one has ever done that for you before, other than your mom. It’s just…really thoughtful and sweet and while you know Austin is those things, somehow this is surprising to you.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” You offer him a small smile.

“I wanted to—looked like you were in on your deathbed in there.” He teases, using a large wooden spoon to stir the pot before approaching you.

You put your hand up quickly, turning away to sneeze not once but twice. Ugh. You move to grab a napkin to blow your nose, tossing it away and washing your hands. That does nothing to help the pressure in your sinuses—you thought you’d feel better with some sleep but clearly it’s going to take a few days. So annoying.

Austin reaches for you to attempt to pull you into his chest, “No, I don’t want to get you sick.” You state, even though you’re not strong enough to push him away. You fold way too easily against him, closing your eyes. The heat of his skin is comforting and you find yourself melting on the spot when he brings his hand up to massage one of your temples.

“I’ll risk it.” He presses a long kiss to your hairline, “Don’t be fallin’ apart on me, alright? If the roles were reversed you’d be tellin’ me I need to take care of myself. Same goes for you.”

He’s right—especially if something like this would have happened to him on the set of Elvis, you’d be the first person to tell him he’d need to slow down, get enough sleep, eat enough, try not to stress into making himself sick. Taking care of himself was a priority…though you have to admit it’s a lot easier to say than advice to give yourself. You tip your chin up to look at him, nodding softly,

“Seems like it might be a dealbreaker if you’re gonna make soup every time.” You tease a little and he leans down to press a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Stubborn,” Austin repeats, smiling a little at you, “But I love you.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his waist to squeeze him as you utter the phrase back. You’re feeling better already.

Forgot I had this request on my desktop lskdfj i also somehow lost the ask it was paired with but ANYWAYS thanks for the request and thanks for reading!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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sneakybananabox · 9 months

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Well in that case, i have new request for u and thank u for writing previous. Poppy and mc are in a relationship and its poppy's birthday, so mc surprises her by taking her to spend time with her dad Art like in story poppy memtioned in letters that how much she wanted to meet him but cant bcz of piers. Please keep twin out of it like there are no twins. Thanks in advance. You are great.

I had this started but never finished. I had to practically dust off my idea journal to jog my memory. (I am being a little dramatic) I tried to do a quick edit so sorry for any mistakes cuties. Sorry for being awol again.

Happy Birthday

Poppy could feel the migraine beating against her head. Each surge of pain, only made her angrier. All the Zetas in the meeting felt like they were playing catch with a bomb, one wrong move, and everyone was dead.

“For bid day on Friday, we thought the theme could be Wizard of Oz because there is no place like Zeta.” Ohio clicked to her next slide with a picture of the Zeta house with a yellow brick road leading up to the front steps. Listening to all the girls get giddy about the theme only made her migraine worse.

“Everyone, could you shut up! I don’t want to sit through any more presentations so Ohio you are in luck. You, Chloe, Hayley, and Taylor will work on bid day. If you all fuck this up you can pack your bags.” Poppy hit the gavel against the table and got up to go to her room. “Meeting adjourned.”

She pulled out her phone to text Bea to see if she wanted to hang out. Her migraines made her feel clingy. All she wanted was to be cuddled in bed with her girlfriend. Since dating Bea some say she had softened and lost her touch. It wasn’t that she lost her touch, she just wasn’t as angry anymore. Poppy no longer had to hide a huge part of herself anymore. She could finally be free to be herself. Her parents weren’t always on the same page, but it was time to live for herself not them. Even though they weren’t excited about her newfound partner, Bea Hughes, as long as she stayed number one her parents were satisfied. She needed to keep her position as head bitch in charge, no one would dare to take it from her either.

Hughes

Want to come over and keep me company?

I have a headache and need attention.

Sorry BB I have to help Zoey with her

setlist for Lil Nos F. After though I will

swing and give you some world famous

Bea Hughes cuddles.

She threw her phone onto her bed. Her migraine needed to be gone and fast. It seemed like the perfect time to hit up her favorite tea place to help with her migraine. She changed into some more casual clothes and pulled out her jewelry box. She grabbed her favorite necklace Bea got her around the time they started dating. She admired the pink poppy in the middle with the black center. She looked at the bottom of the jewelry box and contemplated for a moment. After putting on the necklace she went over to her door to make sure it was locked and sat on her bed. She pulled up the false bottom of the box. Pulling out a stack of letters she went through the letters she never sent to Art Nakamara.

It had only been four months since she found out the truth about her family. She was home for the weekend for some business event she didn’t care about.

Piers was trying to impress a mogul from another company and he needed his token family to parade around to make himself seem perfect. Poppy had on one of her favorite pink dresses that was customized just for her. She was forced to talk to the mogul’s son Harrison.

“We were out on the lake for like a month. It was a great time, it would have been better if you were there in a bikini.” Harrison moved closer to Poppy to put his arm around her. He smelled like strong leather and tobacco.

“I’m allergic to water, sorry.” Poppy got from under his arm, eyes stinging from the cologne. She practically sprinted to the bar, she needed a shot of anything right away. “Hit me with a shot of anything.” The bartender slid her a glass with clear liquid and before he had time to turn Poppy downed it. It was smooth, but burned like hell going down, just what she needed. She turned and was met with her mother.

“Poppy, what are you doing at the bar alone? Where is Harrison? He seems like such a nice single boy. Cute too.”

“He had to go to the restroom. I am sure he has women practically lining up to date him mother. I am however off market. I told him I would meet him at the bar” Poppy wasn’t sure if her mom believed her lie, but she couldn’t really care. Her parents were acting strange, which says a lot because her parents weren’t exactly like most. They haven’t been in contact as often. Weekly phone calls have turned monthly. They haven’t had the easiest time accepting Bea, but she couldn’t continue to live for them she needed to live for herself. Poppy was going to need six more shots to just get through the night.

“Just make sure you are a good hostess to him. We need to make sure the Vanderwald’s leave happy.”

“Yes mother I know. I will make sure he leaves…. Content of course.” Her mother must be out of her mind if she thought she would spend anymore time with that boring ass boy.

The miscellaneous shots she took were finally kicking in. She pulled out her phone and looked through Instagram. She saw a picture of Bea back at Belvoire. It looked like her and Zoey were in their dorm. Poppy couldn't help but admire her girlfriend. She hated that she had to miss their night to schmooze these boring people. The alcohol she drank gave her a great idea though. She sent a text to Bea and hoped her plan would work.

About an hour later Poppy met Bea and Zoey at the door relieved she had back up now.

“What took you so long?” Poppy was running out of excuses to dodge Harrison all night. Bea enveloped Poppy into a hug.

“We had to get ready. If I am going to be around the Min-Sinclairs I need to look my best.”

“She changed her outfit like four times while freaking out.” Zoey was tired of watching Bea change her outfits back at the door.

Bea playfully pushed Zoey, “She is lying. It was traffic too.”

“I am just glad you are here to save me from the annoying Harrison Vanderwald.”

“Oh Yea, the guy that got kicked out of Belvoire for trying to bribe his professors.” Bea had a class with him and remembers him being such a dick.

The night went on with less bumps than the beginning. Harrison found someone else to leech off of in the night. People were finally leaving from the Min-Sinclairs and Poppy could finally take a breath.

“Thanks for the invite Pops.” Bea enveloped Poppy in her arms.

“Alright you two I will be waiting out in the car. Thanks Min-Sinclair. Bea don’t take forever or I am leaving you.”

“Yea Yea Zoey. I will be out in a second.” Bea goofily grinned, holding Poppy,excited to be alone with Poppy for the first time tonight.

“I missed you Popcorn.” Bea kissed her girlfriend.

“It’s definitely the alcohol making me soft but I missed you too.” They just held each other for a moment until they heard the sound of a stomach grumble. “Hughes have you eaten anything all day?”

“Well we were going to go to get pizza, but I got excited by your message.”

“Bea Hughes choosing me over pizza. You really do care about me.”

“I absolutely do Pops.” Bea places a soft kiss on Poppy’s forehead. Her stomach grumbles even louder this time.

“Alright let’s get you a snack”

Poppy pulled out one of Bea’s favorite snacks. She had secretly been requesting this snack because eating it always reminds her of Bea. She would rather shave herself bald then tell Bea this.

“Ooh my favorite thanks Poppy.” Bea kissed Poppy’s forehead before indulging in her snack. Poppy’s heart explodes everytime her girlfriend lightens up.

After an angry text from Zoey wondering what was taking so long, Poppy and Bea started walking to the closest exit. They heard a whispered argument taking place.

“Ana if this gets out I will be a laughing stock. How could you be so fucking careless. The stock would plumet and then what of the fancy life I have given you.”

“I know, I am sorry. No one knows of this. Not even Poppy. As far as she knows you are her father.”

“Yea no one except me, you and any decent private investigator. I will take care of this like always.”

Poppy and Bea ran to the walk in pantry to avoid Piers from catching them on their accidental eavesdrop. Poppy felt like the air was sucked out of her lungs. She collapsed into Bea’s arm and quietly sobbed. Piers was not her father and her mother kept her from her bio father.

Poppy was lucky to find one private investigator not under Piers thumb. She was given Arts name and found out all she could about him. He was a well loved preschool teacher. He would supportive of his students and even as adults they would come visit him to catch up. Everyone saw his like another parent in their life. She felt robbed for missing our of know her real dad and stuck with Piers. Piers was controlling and not at all affectionate which as a kid made her question her self worth. Bea slowly helped her through her feelings and downfalls. She wishes her girlfriend wasn’t so busy because she could really use her cuddles right about now.

Bea felt bad about lying to her girlfriend but she was trying to desperately figure out what to give someone who has everything for their birthday. She has gone through a thousand ideas all of which she felt were not good/expensive enough for the girl who swiftly stole her heart. She barged into Zoey’s room and threw herself onto her bed.

“Bea what if I were naked. Knock at least next time!” Zoey lectured without even looking up from her laptop.

“I would have closed my eyes. I need some help from that beautiful mind of yours.”

“You are lucky flattery will get your everywhere with me. What’s the problem roomie?”

“I don’t know what to get Poppy for her birthday. I have brainstormed for weeks and came up with diddly squat.”

“ That’s like picking a gift for Satan themself. Ow watch the laptop” Zoey rubbed her the back of her head that was assaulted with her fluffy pillow.

“Don’t be dramatic that was practically a cloud. Now please help me with this dilemma so I don’t end up sad and single.”

“First of all you are being dramatic and second of alll nothing wrong with because single. Most people will agree you have melted Poppy’s ice princess facade. Even if she doesn’t admit it she loves your ‘from the heart sappy shit you do’. Just think with that big heart of …” Before Zoey could finish her sentence Bea jumped off her bed and ran out.

Poppy held Bea’s hand while she drove. She paid attention to the hum of her car and the warmth of her hand. Her hands felt empty without her phone, but Bea insisted on her leaving her phone at the Zeta house. She didn’t need much convincing wearing a blindfold for a surprise. She wasn’t going to show it, but she was just happy to be in Bea’s presence. It was like feeling a calm wash over her mind. She vented about her day and how annoying the Zetas were during the presentations. They drove what felt like hours away from the University.

“Okay Pops I need you to do me a favor. Stay here while I go get something. No peaking or else I will withhold kisses for the next week.”

“Are you even allowed to be so cruel on my birthday?” Bea kissed Poppy quickly before running into the mysterious location. Pops just listened but none of the sounds were out of the ordinary. After about 5 minutes Bea came to Poppy’s door and opened. She helped her out of the car and handed she her favorite tea.

“Don’t tell me we drove all this way for you to poison me.” She took a sip and recongized it being one of her favorite drinks Matcha. “Hughes I know you did not make us drive all this way for something we could go about 5 minutes from campus to get.”

“Poppy if I wanted to poison you I wouldn’t have done it in somewhere so public. But no it’s not just for the tea we had to come here for you birthday gift. Take of your blindfold.” Poppy took off her blindfold and felt like she recognized where she was. She looked around and noticed a man walking towards them. He was a bit shorter than she was and he was smiling. She recongized him from the pictures the P.I. sent her as well as when she googled Art Nakamura , her bio dad.

“Hello, Poppy” The man beamed at her. “Happy Birthday” He held out a bouquet of flowers. Poppy hesitantly took the flowers.

“Hello Mr. Nakamura.”

“Please feel free to call me Art.”

“ Thank you for the flowers Mr. Nakam– Art. Could you give Bea and I a moment?”

“No worries I will get us a table in the cafe.” Art walked into the cafe and Poppy turned to her girlfriend.

“What the fuck were thinking, Hughes?” Poppy shouted not worrying about the looks from passerbys. “How did you know about him? Do you know what could happen if Piers finds out about this? I could loose everything! Do you not fucking think!?”

“I was just trying to get you a good birthday gift and you have everything and I thought maybe it would be nice to meet him and get answers for questions you wanted. One of the nights I stayed over the letters were out and I accidentally read one of them. I didn’t say anything ,but the emotion just pour out of them and it seemed like you really wanted to meet him.”

“Those were private! Bea I can’t do this with you. Please just leave. I will find another way to get back to campus.”

“But Poppy you don’t have your phone.”

“I don’t care. Just go.” Poppy shouted at Bea. Her chest felt heavy because she felt bad for yelling but she was just so angry. Anything else Bea had to say died in her throat. She walked back to her car and got in to leave. Poppy walked inside and found Art enjoying a mug of green liquid. She could smell the matcha.

“I am sorry for intruding, Poppy.”

“No, Art it’s no worries. It was just an unexpected surprise.”

They talked for awhile and Poppy’s stiff posture softened as she learned more about Art. He loved matcha just as much as she did. He talked about his time in college and how he always wanted to be a teacher. He showed her a picture of when he took his class to the museum and helped pay for the kids who couldn’t afford it.

“I know it’s none of my business and my apologies in advance if I am over stepping. You shouldn’t be so hard on your girlfriend Bea.”

“She told you about our relationship?”

“No she didn’t need to. I know the look of love anywhere. We have all been bitten by the love bug once or twice.”

“ You don’t care that I am dating a girl.”

“Of course not. We can’t help who we love.” Poppy did her best to keep her tears from escaping.

“I appreciate you saying that Art. I just couldn’t imagine the wrath if Piers found out.”

“Bea said the same thing when planning this. She didn’t even let me bring my phone. I didn’t even park around here she made me park farther away and walk. I thought she was joking at first. She had me turn right 8 times to make sure I wasn’t being tailed.”

“I don’t have my phone either. She really went above and beyond.” She whispered the last part. Suddenly she felt like the worst girlfriend on this planet. She looked at where Bea had parked and saw an empty space.

Bea found a quiet restaurant to sulk. She barely touched her fries when her phone started to buzz. It was a number she didn’t recongize, but there was no scam likely under it so she answered.

“Hello?”

“I’m so sorry for blowing up at you.” Poppy muttered. “I just was so sacred and had so many emotions running about I didn’t know how to react.”

“It’s okay Poptart. I should have ran this by you and not read the letter.”

“Will you come back? I want you to meet my dad.”

“Absolutely, I will be right over.” Bea only went over 1 block, she didn’t want to leave Poppy stranded. After parking she walked into the cafe and saw Poppy laughing with Art. She was actually belly laughing. Bea’s heart felt so full to see her girlfriend enjoying her time with her father. She walked over and Poppy pulled her into a hug. She always felt light when her and Poppy embraced. Like nothing in the world could hurt them as long as they were together.

“Art I know you two have corresponded ,but I would like to officially introduce Bea my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you in person Bea. Thank you for today.” Bea shook Art’s hand and they sat and talked.

Art was telling them a story from his time in college and Bea was giggling at the story. Poppy imagined what life would have been like if Art was always her dad and raised her. She imagines with someone so warm as a father she would have turned out different. They stayed until close and parted ways after exchanging numbers on napkins.

On the way back to campus Poppy grabbed her girlfriends hands and planted a soft kiss on the back of Bea’s hand.

“Thank you for an amazing day.”

“Always. Happy Birthday Pops.”

Master List

#thanks anon!#anon reply #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b choices #queen b playchoices

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hibernationsuit · 8 months

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Silent fury and/or trembling hands? For the writing prompt? :D

omg these are so good :') thank u!

trembling hands Waking up after hibernation nap could've been more peaceful, but alas, your first minutes are just a scientist monologuing about saving the colony from the Board and that you have been a popsicle for 70 years instead of 10, and then the said mad scientist sends you down to the planet on an escape pod. Sad! Have a look on how Toby's first moments went on Terra 2. warnings: violence mention, death mention, self-concious thoughts, gun mention

---

"Oh my god did I just kill a man???"

"Technically, no. It was the escape pod, and maybe his stupidity."

"But-"

The old man's calm-ish voice sounded sligthly more high-pitched than before. "Calm down, take a deep breath." He paused for a moment, then continued, with his typical voice this time. "What's done is done. Now go find the ship."

Oh boy, he probably hates me already.

I stood up, slowly and steadily, trying not to fall, as if my body was slowly recalling how to stand. Even worse, the 36 hour period of no eating before entering hibernation added dizziness and nausea to the mix. I definitely didn't feel like those smiling people on the pictures of the papers Klara was designing.

Oh no...Klara...

"Hey! Doctor Welles? I need to ask you a-"

"Whatever questions you have, I'll answer them later. You can come to my lab once you get that ship and we can talk there," the scientist said, and quickly added before I could reply, "And please, call me Phineas."

"Fine, okay, sure." He definitely hates me.

I took a deep breath and looked at the sky to get my thoughts together. Except that instead of seeing the typical, calming Earth scenery, what I saw instead was another planet covering almost half of the sky.

"Listen, I know this may all be shocking for you, but you have to get moving." Phineas's voice said.

May?! I'm barely holding myself together after your monologue and now you want me to steal a dead man's ship??? And I'm supposed to be calm? "Why the hurry?"

"The Board will come. And trust me, they don't want my success to surface. Erm, I mean, a live Hope colonist isn't something that will make them happy. Now go."

Fine. I looked around to see the way forward and noticed two small, green creatures running somewhere. The image from a guide to space fauna came to my mind right away: sprats. Tiny little creatures that apparently live almost everywhere in the world. I'll follow these and see where they lead. Surely they know their way around.

The sprats led me on a small little road, past a half-eaten body of a human and two dog-like animals that didn't seem friendly enough to walk past them normally. Were they the ones who ate the person? I didn't feel like finding out, and sneaked past hiding in the grass. This feels like some kind of shitty action movie. Or a joke. Surely this can't be a joke?

The road led into a cave, and the sudden change in light and a somewhat bad landing worsened my headache. I took a few steps and leaned on a wall, fighting the urge to lay down on the ground and curl up like a hedgehog trying to defend itself from the bad things around it. Of course, a migraine, as if the situation wasn't bad enough.

Back when I was a child, I used to get migraines often, but I haven't had any for a few years now. This one felt even worse than I remembered. I took a few deep breaths and wondered what could've triggered it. Dehydration? Hunger? Being on a strange new planet my body wasn't used to? Or was it the fucking escape pod?

I continued walking forward slowly, leaning on the wall with one hand. My vision became blurrier every step and the ringing in my ears got stronger, but as I barely managed not to trip over one of the sprats skittering in front of my leg, it all suddenly stopped.

And so did the time.

I watched the sprat, a critter which previously ran quite fast, move slower than a snail.

One blink, and everything went back to normal.

"What the f-" I muttered before crashing on the ground.

"Careful now," Phineas murmured. I barely registered the words he said after as I was slowly getting back up. Something about side effects of hibernation. Yeah right.

The headache seemed to have eased for now, leaving the fatigue as my only company. He could've at least let me drink some water first before stuffing me into an escape pod.

"Hey, who's there?" A voice asked, coming from the cave further part of the cave.

I managed to walk a bit further and saw a man sitting on a bench, supplies laying around. The man himself was wounded, not lethally but still badly.

He noticed me and gestured to come closer. "Okay, good, now..." He took a deep breath, and instead of what could've been a greeting, began, "You've tried the best, now-" he paused again, wincing from pain, "-now try the rest. Spacer's Choice. Oh Law, that stings."

What the hell was that? I looked around and noticed some first aid supplies in a box. It's been years since I took the first aid course, but it was better than nothing. "Sit still, I'll patch you up."

The man, who introduced himself as guard Pelham while I was doing all I could remember about dealing with such wounds, watched me do it all with a worried face. Do I look as unsure as I actually am?

Yet once I was done, he looked at his side and smiled. "Looks like the bleeding stopped, I owe you one. Though, I hope you don't mind me omitting this little exchange from my report. Spacer's Choice doesn't like us accepting outside help."

"Spacer's wha-" I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. Was this guy so worried I'll tell his supervisors I helped him? "Never mind. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you. Might've bled out on my own. Or worse, would've had to beg our boss to give us some Adrena-Time."

"Wait. Aren't you supposed to get a sick leave for this so your wound would heal?"

"Sick what?"

"Paid time off work? So you can rest?"

"That's a funny joke. Why would someone be paid for resting?"

"Are you telling me you-" I stopped and sighed, muttering quietly to myself, "Where the hell did I end up?"

"You're acting a bit weird. Did you hit your head or something? You're in Emerald Vale, a Spacer's Choice community. You know what that is, right?"

"Uhhhhh...no. Sorry, my thoughts are all over the place now. Just woke up after long hibernation."

"Oh. That explains what you're wearing. Where did you travel from?"

"...Earth?"

Pelham laughed. "Joking again, are you? That's alright, keep your secrets."

"What? I'm not joking, I-" Could Phineas be telling the truth? "Um. Do you know anything about the Hope?"

"The what? Is that some new Auntie Cleo drug? You're not one of them, are you?"

What the fuck? "Um. No. Sorry. What year is it?"

"2355. Man, you sure you're alright?"

We left in 2285... "Um. Yeah, definitely. Sorry." I really need to change the topic. "Uh. How did you end up here, anyway?"

"We were patrolling the area. There's an illegally grounded ship there, and we're looking for its owner."

That must be Hawthorne's ship. "Really, where?"

"That way," he pointed at the entrance blocked by the canisters. "But, there's Marauders there. Thought I could take them out, but then my gun misfired. So, I barricaded myself here. If they try to come, I'll deal with all of them in one shot." The guard smirked, clearly proud of himself.

"Right, great." The migraine symptoms were slowly starting to come back and I realized that I really need to continue to look for that ship. "Whatever. Listen, I really need to get out of this cave. Can you help me move these canisters so I could go?"

"Why bother moving them when you can just blow them up?" The guard picked up the gun laying next to him and handed it to me, along with extra ammo. "You'll definitely get really far with all that ammo. Sorry that I can't give you one more, it's stuck in my side."

"Uh, thanks," I took the gun and looked at it. I've never fired a gun, can't even remember ever holding one. They were heavier than they looked. Though, the fact that something so small could be lethal...

"Everything alright?" Pelham asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I noticed my left hand was holding my side, right where the wound was a few months ago. Wait, not months. Seventy years ago. I sighed and nodded quickly. What a mess.

"Good. Now, just aim at the canisters and shoot. Easy as a pie. Just make sure you're not too close to them."

"I- Um, alright." I walked back from the canisters and raised the gun with my trembling hands. Why can't this all be just a bad dream? I thought before pulling the trigger.

#my writing #my ocs #asks #oc: tobias #the outer worlds #the outer worlds oc #captain of the unreliable #yes i messed up w/ the cave + ttd part i know it's in anothr part of the way. idc </3 #anyway hehe him :) he's not vibing #this ended up being longer than i hoped tbh but oh well! ended up cutting out the marauder part too that would've come next bc it was #becoming too long #also yes i changed the conversation a little 😌

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