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tobifuyu · 11 months

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Shopping with the Haitani Ran goes wrong!

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

Ran thinks you're too cute to be dressing this badly. He takes you shopping, finally gives in to his own desires and touches you in the dressing room. Chaos ensues.

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial.

words count: 5,398

a/n: this is actually my first time writing smut, or anything at all, so bear with me. the one shot is part of a longer fic that I will start posting pretty soon, set in the Bonten timeline, I just wanted to put out something in the meantime, mostly as practice. english is not my first language! enjoy.

If you think shopping with a man such as Haitani Ran would be an enjoyment of sorts, well, you’d be wrong.

If your damnation could be encased in a day it would be today out of all of them.

Haitani Ran is already a handful as it is, put him in a store-filled street, already dressed to the nines and parading around like he owns the motherfucking moon and stars and what comes out is a big ass headache and a lot of self-deprecation.

In theory, the idea was not half bad. Ran knows a lot about this kind of stuff: fashion, styling, brands… at least more than you do, no matter how much you’d like to keep up. And the amount of money in his bank account is – well, still a mystery to you – you can only imagine a lot, considering what he is wearing and the place he’s dragging you to with a big hand wrapped around your wrist.

So in theory him helping you pick out a few pieces of clothing you could buy with your weekly allowance didn’t sound too bad. Considering how extravagant he and his brother are, you were expecting to head over to Harajuku, and maybe try to dig out something he could style for you from a cool vintage store.

You didn’t think he would bring you to a mall.

You don’t even think you’d be allowed in such a place, normally, not in the way you’re dressed anyway.

I mean, you did try your hardest to look somewhat presentable, knowing you’d be running around with the Haitani Ran, but with your laughable budget and a very confused sense of style, you look like Ran had just picked you up from the sidewalk like one of those lone puppies you’d see in a sad movie and brought you around to keep him company while squatting at his feet and wiggling your tail.

You’ve just always liked too many trendy styles, buying a few pieces here and there and leaving you with no basics and nothing to match them with, and so y ou look out of place, walking into a brand store practically hand in hand with one of the most handsome guys those judgy store clerks have probably ever seen, with a timeless and classy outfit that makes him look like he belongs there.

And most importantly, that he can afford it.

Maybe the only thing that makes up for it is his crazy two-toned braids. Doesn’t make him look nearly as bad as you, but at least you know how to use a toner.

He spends some time looking around the racks after shooing the shopping assistant who tried to approach the two of you away, and you trail behind him like – yeah, you guessed it – a lost puppy with eyes cast down, as if trying to disappear, maybe then they’d stop staring holes through your bland white cardigan that’s a little too big for your frame since you eyeballed its size and then found it too comfy to size down.

And that’s because you and fitting rooms just don’t click. You find the whole process a little too tiring, both mentally and physically.

Who enjoys spending that much time undressing yourself to wear clothes that have been worn by god knows how many others and have yet to see a washing machine, just to cry the moment you get them on because fast fashion sizes don’t fit people but want people to fit in them? Also having to recollect yourself and patch up your makeup while redressing as quickly as possible cause a line has already formed outside the door, you can hear them, and you can already feel their judging stares the moment you are gonna leave all the clothes you tried on with the clerk, nonetheless, cause everything looked like absolute shit on you–

Draining, that’s what it is.

But it’s dread that you feel creeping up on you while approaching the said fitting rooms with one of Ran’s arms now circling your waist, the other doing the most to hold up a bunch of clothes that you can barely make out but you know he has picked out, just for you.

“We can skip this part.”

You had tried reasoning, just to get hit with a “Skip this part my ass, there’s no buying clothes without trying them on. That’s how you end up with that cardigan. And I’m paying for this shit, so we’ll do as I say, princess.”

Ouch, what a little bitch.

Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling remorse, after he’s reminded you so kindly of why he’s decided to do this in the first place, knowing he wants to pull out his wallet to soothe his pretty eyes from having to see you dressed like a mess all the time.

But you’re better than this, so you decide you’ll only pick something you can afford.

He’s nothing to you but a new acquaintance, after all.

A means to an end, you like to remind yourself. You’re not using him, not a hundred percent at least, cause he’s getting your shining company in return. But yeah… you just need him to get to Manjirou. Nothing more. Nothing fun… you swear to yourself.

You’re doing Toman a favor, continuing Draken’s underground work now that he’s gone. You know Takemichi and sweet Chifuyu don’t add up to much when it comes to planning.

You’ve heard about Ran’s little fixation on you from the grapevine. His own brother had admitted to him relentlessly talking about you. And now, with Kantou Manji looming over the future of you all, you knew you had to get involved.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Ran’s lazy lavender eyes have had you in a chokehold from the very first time the two of you met, years ago.

He and Rindou wanting to fight you and your brother – only the latter, really – just to find out that you don’t back down from a challenge.

(From that day onward, if you were to ask Rindou, he would say that’s when his brother started talking about you.)

So you let him lock you in the fitting room, one of those cool ones with mirrors and lights all around you but, most importantly, a sturdy door.

One you know, in a store this expensive, no one will start knocking on if you take too long squeezing into one of those tiny dresses.

Not that it does anything to stop Ran once you’ve declared you’ve tried on the first one.

A pretty lilac piece, that would complement him and his eyes more – you mentally decide you’d like to see that – but you would look pretty (for once) standing at his side.

If it weren’t for the fact that it’s a tad too little on your frame, as expected, squeezing all the wrong places, skin spilling over and all that (you can’t possibly know he’s picked it a size or two too small on purpose).

Especially your cleavage, meaning this is all but a dress you could just wear to parade around the streets with a gang member. It would send the wrong message. And god knows what would happen if that message were to reach someone from Toman. A blond-haired guy in particular.

Shame on you.

But you can’t dwell on it too much, with Ran bursting through the door, then closing it behind his frame with all the nonchalance in the world, as if it isn’t quite scandalous the way you’re half clad and enclosed in a tight space with a man older than you (not by much, but still), in a luxury store, with clerks circling the both of you like hawks.

He approaches your body, and you can tell he’s making a decision his head while scrutinizing the dress, or rather you, from over your shoulder.

You’re facing forward and can feel the heat of his body approaching way before you feel his front touch your back, his hands momentarily settling at your hips.

They then move lower, trying to smooth the fabric of the dress as if it would make it fit better, and you feel a shiver run through your spine at the contact.

The tips of his fingers are cold where they brush your naked thighs, so you blame it on that.

“Looks perfect on you.” his warm breath hits your neck as he speaks with that low voice of his.

Focus, goddamnit.

“I hope you’re joking. I can barely breathe, and I think my ass might be hanging out.”

You can feel his body shake with giggles, and you know he’s trying to contain them for your sake, even though he’s never been the one to shy away from public shaming, especially when it comes to you. Sigh.

“Mh, I don’t know about that, but the front looks good.” His hands make a b-line for your waist, squeezing the fat there before moving upwards to rest a breath away from your tits. The dress is so tight you didn’t need to wear a bra with that. “Gosh, would you look at that? Fucking perfect.”

“Ran,” you warn him, you know he’s just teasing you again, or rather, testing you.

You meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and you don’t want him to win one of the many little challenges he poses you with daily, so you hold his gaze, leaning the back of your head against his left shoulder.

He’s sure you’re the one tempting him at this point, deciding to play along in his little game that’s gonna ruin the both of you sooner or later, cause with that movement alone you’ve exposed your neck and cleavage like a white canvas, only his to paint.

“Fuck baby,” he groans and you feel yourself shivering once again, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? Or maybe you do, you little vixen.”

You laugh, “Is that all it takes to bring down the Haitani Ran? A dress that’s a little too small?” you want to hit his ego back, at least, for the way he’s making you feel.

So exposed and vulnerable.

And little, which you’re very much not, but the way he’s encasing you with his bigger body is making you look ridiculously tiny.

“Paired with these tits and hips yeah, might just be the one thing that’s gonna put an end to the Haitani’s reign.”

It’s mesmerizing, his tone of voice, the deep baritone laced with a hint of teasing and sass that drips from his lips like honey straight to your pliant ears and reverberates through your even more pliant body.

One of his fingers creeps up to the neckline of the dress and drags over its seams with such a delicately that you wouldn’t even have caught it if you weren’t so busy trying to follow his every move and breath, leaving the haze of his purple eyes that split second enough to record the very movement.

“Ran, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You try to hide your smirk as you say that, knowing that is not gonna stop him but rather rile him up.

He smirks back, grabbing you by the chin with his free hand so he can turn your head to face him. “Since when have you become such a prude, uh?”

“I have always been, you’re the one trying to taint my innocence, remember?”

You’re not completely joking at this point, he’s been trying to get a reaction out of you since you’ve started hanging out more frequently.

He knows you shouldn’t, but he’s adamant in getting you to admit he can rile you up just as easily.

A dark set of lashes shade his lavender hues as he stares down at you, pondering over what to do next without scaring you too badly.

“Can I kiss you?” There he goes, he just couldn’t resist himself, could he?

You just look so good, dressed in something he picked for you, standing in this tiny space with him draped around you. He wants to eat you up.

“No.”

Ouch. That hurts. How could you say no to him? Look at me, he thinks, and as if you can read his twisted mind, you do just that.

He is so irresistible, with one of his long braids slipping past your shoulder, hair tickling your skin the same way his hand is still doing over the hem of the dress. Pink full lips shaped in a pout you think he’s sporting more to get pity out of you rather than because he cares. But you’re a woman of great self-control.

Or so you thought.

“Just– you can touch me. To fix the dress.”

You two are so close, practically glued to each other, it’s not the first time it’s happened but your body still reacts like it’s being shocked every time he touches you.

And Ran thinks it’s more than he thought you’d allow yourself to go, so he does just that, to fix the dress, that is.

It’s to fix the dress that he grasps the fullness of both your tits in his big palms, no need to use one hand to hold your face to him anymore as you instantly rotate towards his frame to hide your face in the curve of his neck, soft lips pushed against his pale skin to muffle the sighs that you’re letting out at his bold move.

He doesn’t hesitate to squeeze them, pushing them up to prop the fat against the hem of the dress as if to make it fit properly, or as properly as the set image he has in his head, which is everything but proper.

“Fuck, you have such pretty tits.” He’s groaning in your ear at this point, enjoying the way you’re letting him touch you a little too much if the way he starts rubbing against you from behind is of any indication.

You can’t help your body from trying to mold to his touch, back arching and pushing against the hands caressing you over the skimpy fabric of the dress.

One of them is heading lower, running over the hills of your torso and hip before grabbing onto the flesh of your right thigh. The other keeps teasing you with precision and reaches over the hem to pull it down and expose your skin to the cold of the fitting room.

A perked nipple is encased by his long fingers, nails scraping over the bud to tease a soft moan out of your mouth. You grab onto one of his braids, slightly pulling before blindly looking for the hair tie. It’s removed with swift hands that you then run along its length to free it from the twists, so you can bury a hand at the back of his nape, pulling him towards you – as if he could get any closer – scratching the skin there as payback.

“R-Ran” your body is starting to heat up, the cold air surrounding the two of you doing nothing to cool you down. “‘Need more, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” At that the hand that has been massaging the fat of your thigh creeps under the bottom of the infamous dress, making you unable to see his next move even from the reflation of the mirror.

But you can feel him skimming over your panties with his fingertips, pressing against the wet patch that has formed there.

“You got wet just from this? Must be really desperate, uh. ‘ve barely touched you.”

What a piece of shit, you think.

But your body likes this side of his, the degrading and teasing, and it especially likes the way the pad of his finger is now pressing against your clit, unexpectedly making you let out a moan that you didn’t think you’d be capable of. Always the quiet one.

“Shh, you wouldn’t want them to hear us, now, would you?” He’s rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves, touching it just right, just like you would, alone in your room (while thinking about him, probably), making it hard to think or even remotely feel shame. “Maybe you’d like that? Mh? Want them to know making you feel good, right, pretty girl?”

When you don’t care enough to answer he pinches your clit over the wet fabric of your underwear, the whimpering noise you let out like music to his ears.

You just really want to feel his skin on yours, but too shy to ask for it you decide to do the next best thing. With the hand that is not too busy pulling the back of his head, you reach between your legs and push the fabric of your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air without a care in the world.

If desperation had a face, at this point, it would most definitely look like yours.

“Ah shit, pretty-“

“Touch me, Ran.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He finds your clit once again, not before running through the dripping folds and collecting the wetness with the pad of his fingers, just to rub it over your soft spot with careful precision.

His hand gives one final flick to your nipple before joining the other between your thighs, raising the lower hem of the dress to fully expose your wetness under the bright lights of the fitting room, just so he can take a good look in the reflection of the mirror.

You’re no saint, but also no one has ever touched you like this before, and the pleasure is pushing you to do things you probably would never even think of when the two of you are apart (but maybe you will, from this day forward).

That is why you reach down to grasp the wrist of his other hand, redirecting him to where you want to feel his touch, before slipping your fingers through his as if to show him what to do to you.

You feel his lips move against your ear before you register him talking, “Princess, you want my fingers? Hm?”

At that, you couldn’t nod faster, waiting for his touch to finally skim your opening, and once it does, you know he understands how much you need him, cause you see him raise his fingers as if to take a double look at the viscous liquid now wetting his skin. He rubs it over you then, spreading it on top of your clit to make his other hand work smoothly.

He stops right before he could slip in, making you whine in disagreement. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

All these pet names are new to you, he usually sticks to one a day, trying them out on his tongue before throwing the chosen one at you with the most annoying tone he could muster to, simply put, annoy the fuck out of you, as he does with pretty much everything else.

But the way he’s saying them now, between rushed breaths and a voice so strained that nearly makes you believe he’s the one being played with, does unspeakable things to you.

So you give in like you’ve learned to do with him lately. “R-rannie, please, want you… to touch me.”

“What do you need me to do, pretty? Speak up, use your big girl’s words.”

“Need your fingers. Inside me.” You feel like the air in the dressing room is thinning out, and you need to get this done as fast as possible.

That’s until his pointer slips past your hole. The moment his other fingers resume their rubbing over your bundle of nerves, while he’s opening you up, that’s when you actually start praying for time to stop.

Maybe if his hands were to leave your frame now you would crumble to the ground and die. That’s a new fear you have just unlocked because you don’t think you could ever go back to how life was before he made you feel what you’re feeling right now.

Alive.

Like every nerve ending is tingling and responding to the sweet sounds he’s making, or maybe the ones he’s pulling out of you. You don’t know what makes you more turned on, the effect you have on him, or the grip he has on you.

He starts moving his lone finger in and out, gently, testing out how far he can reach before you clench around him in pain.

He rubs over the ridges of your walls looking for something, trying out different patterns, and bumping against the outside of your hole with the palm of his hand to stimulate all of you once he slips completely inside, reaching as deep as his long digit permits.

At first, it doesn’t feel like much, you can tell he’s an expert but he’s just getting to know you. You think the feeling of fullness alone is enough to get a kick out of you, as long as he keeps massaging your clit in a, now, slower motion, as if he has nothing to rush about, not one care in the world. But it creeps up on you when you least expect it.

You thought he oversold himself with that oozing confidence that he sports 24/7, but as he starts laying open-mouthed kisses over your neck, running up its column, until he finds your sweet spot nested just below your ear and right by your clenching jaw, so does his finger.

“Fuuck. Oh my fucking god.” you heave.

Yeah, his lips are a godsend, but the way he’s bumping against that one spot inside of you with the tip of his digit just now is downright delicious.

He builds up a rhythm then. Fucking into you with more force and confidence, not forgetting to hit that patch of skin even for a single time.

“You like that, uh?” he asks like he doesn’t know, pressing his mouth against the underside of your jaw to drag his tongue along your salty skin, moaning at the taste. He asks as if you’re not clenching around his finger like your life depends on it, as if you want to capture it and hold him inside you to never feel empty again.

He realizes you need more, and he wants to give you his cock. Wants to stuff you full to the brim, cause he can feel how greedy your cunt is, so he knows you would eventually take him all inside, no matter how big.

You’re thinking the same, imagining how good it would feel to have him fuck you against the mirror that’s fogging up in front of you. You’re seeing the moon and the fucking stars with the tip of his finger alone. You wonder if his cock is big enough to kiss that little spot just right with his leaky tip.

He leaves you little to wonder, with the way his hips are bumping against you from behind. You can clearly make out the size of his length, now fully erected, as it rubs against your ass.

“Ran, fuck, I need more!”

And you both know that, but he also knows how ridiculously tight you are, how much he would have to open you up to take his cock, how he might need to spend hours with his head between your legs, fasting on your wet cunt just to make you loosen up. He’d do that gladly, but not now, in this fitting room.

So he just joins his pointer with his middle finger, carefully trying to fit in a second one through your squeezing muscles.

“No, Ran-“ you’re ready to beg, get on the ground on your knees, and plead him to have his way with you.

This is so not like you.

Or maybe it was, all along. You just needed someone to free you at last.

“You’re not ready to take my cock yet.” His tone is firm like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “I can barely fit two fingers in, pretty. You need to let me in, gonna make you cream around them, ‘kay?”

You swear the way he’s looking at you through the mirror alone is your undoing. You see his eyes running back and forth to your half-open ones, so you follow the gaze rolling over your exposed tits, heaving with your labored breaths, until reaching the apex of your thighs.

Two of his fingers are now plunging into your wet opening, the squelching sound being so loud to tint both of your cheeks red, and a ring of white collecting around the circumference of his digits, before dripping down your parted legs at the force of his thrusts. Your clit is still being rubbed raw, the intensity increasing with every passing minute, making you twitch in his firm grasp.

The whole picture is insanely erotic, something you haven’t even experienced in your fantasies yet.

It’s so intense that you feel your cheeks get wet from the unexpected tears now streaming down your face.

You’re a cryer, he’s elated.

You’re trying hard to muffle a scream, but Ran has you blocked in his grasp with both of his arms running over yours, so you have to turn and bite at the skin of his collarbone to do so, as you grip over his forearms, leaving behind the half-moon indentation of your nails.

He groans, letting his head lol back as you lick over the bruise; the skin has torn and you can taste the blood. As he speeds up the fingers that are massaging your clit, you realize that both of you might enjoy a little pain mixed with pleasure.

The overstimulation is so overbearing that you know you should’ve come long ago, but he’s taking you to such heights that you just can’t seem to let yourself go when alone in your bed you would have long given up and just taken a shitty orgasm as a win before retiring to sleep.

“Feel so- god, it’s so fucking good, Ran. Don’t stop, please please-“You don’t stop begging and he doesn’t stop thrusting, both his fingers and his hips behind your frame, chasing his orgasm against the plush of your ass.

He wants to pull his cock out of his pants and rub it against your skin. The dress has raised over the globes of your behind, he wishes he could just come all over it.

But he has no intention of ever slowing down his hands, not with the way you’re trembling against him, and not until you come, completely undone and fucked up from just two of his fingers.

You look so beautiful like this, with tears streaming down your reddening face, lips bitten, unfortunately not by him, and your cunt taking his fingers so well. Like the good girl he knows you are under all that sass.

He glances down at the scene one more time.

Your pussy is so pretty, glistening wet, he could finish right here and then.

He wants you to fucking come while screaming his name, no one else’s. He doesn’t care if they hear, he wants them to.

Ran wishes for more than just the clerks hearing you come undone for him.

At that thought something snaps inside of him.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Fucking tell me.” You snap out of the blubbering mess you’ve become, not because of the inexplicably angry tone of his request, but because he’s slowing down his movements and you were not expecting that.

Does he not know by now that you like his roughness? You need to come so badly.

“Please fuck don’t stop, please-“

“I said who’s making you feel this fucking good.” Ran doesn’t like to think he’s a jealous guy.

He’s The Haitani Ran, after all. There has never been any need for him to be.

But now that he has tasted heaven, here in this tiny dressing room with you, he doesn’t think he can stop.

He wants to make you his, and if that means he has to deprive you of your very first orgasm given by someone else so that you can come back running for more, so be it.

“You, Ran! Fuck it’s all you! You make me feel so go-” The slap that resonates in the small space it’s the thing that stops you from completing your praise.

Ran’s fingers have stopped moving inside of you completely, and his other hand has raised to slap your spasming cunt.

A scream of his name finally does rip out of your parted lips. There’s no way you could’ve avoided that.

And the new canting of your hips that are raising to chase a ruined orgasm is to little avail, you just don’t seem to reach the promised land.

Against all odds, Ran doesn’t resume touching you, even his hips are now resting firmly some inches away from yours, not even letting you feel him anymore.

He presses father light kisses from the column of your neck up to the side of your jaw, retracing the path he had run with languish before, until he can sweetly kiss your burning cheek as if to gently bring you down from the orgasm that never happened while he removes his fingers from inside of you, leaving you eerily empty.

“I- I didn’t come.” you’re still trembling at this point, but for a different reason. You think he might have mistaken any of your reactions for you reaching your long-awaited end.

You’ve heard some stories, you know some guys can’t even tell right from left when it comes to a woman's body.

But you’re wrong about him. “I know.”

More kisses are left on the side of your face, you’d think the gesture sweet if it weren’t for the ever-present grin you can feel against your skin.

“What- why?” the way you’re asking nearly breaks his heart, you sound so confused, broken. But that’s exactly what he needs, right? He needs to be the one to guide you.

“Because I’m not letting you come. You’re not my girl.” Your eyes are big like saucers, and you’ve turned your head to stare at him, he thinks this situation is so fun he could giggle.

“But I thought-“

“Just leave him, pretty girl. You’ve already forgotten about him, haven’t you? It was my name you were screaming, it was my cock you were begging for. Leave him, and come back crawling to me. Maybe then, I’ll think about letting you come.”

He takes some steps further away from you then, cold but still careful enough to make sure you won’t fall the moment he lets you on your own, bringing his soiled fingers up to his mouth. You watch in silence as he licks them clean. He’s making a show of it, engulfing the digits in his mouth and sucking around them as he moans. You’re so turned on you could die right there and then.

He then hits you with a “Fuck, you taste like heaven, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Before diving right back in, licking the skin one last time for safekeeping.

And now, you don’t know what’s worse: the cheshire grin stretching the pinkish of Ran’s lips while he’s downright degrading you after depriving you of an orgasm and, honestly, your self-respect;

Maybe it’s the fact that sweet Chifuyu’s face had only flashed behind your eyelids at his mention, after you’ve probably done one of the worst things you could ever do to him, or in your life, really;

… or the fact that you had to walk out of there, and wait for Ran to pay for the stained dress, cause he wouldn’t let you leave without making a scene. Knowing damn well that everyone in the shop had heard the two of you and is now looking with a mix of: reverence towards Ran, and hatred for you, by all women and men who rightfully wished to be in your stand.

At the end of the day, you were right. Fitting rooms would ever only leave you a crying mess, with clothes too little to fit; and shopping with Ran Haitani was hell made on earth.

At least you were convinced this was gonna be the last time you would ever accompany him – anywhere, really – or so you thought…

#ran haitani #ran smut #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran x you #ran haitani x you #ran x y/n #ran haitani x y/n #ran x oc #ran imagines #ran haitani imagines #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #haitani brothers #haitani rindou

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yesimwriting · 1 year

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Final Girl - Part 8

Series Masterlist (updated chapters 1 -9 and extras) Final Girl Masterlist

A/N this took awhile,, but i always want to put my best foot forward bc of how much this series means to me, which means i work when i’m in the right headspace for it and have the time to invest,, which hasn’t been lining up too much recently 😭 anyways i see all the supportive comments and appreciate them sm!!

also keep in mind that my priority is not the timeline, like if you’re feeling like the month before halloween is the longest month of all time,, it’s bc i want to give them bonding time before the heavy murder stuff!

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s/

Chapter Summary: Y/n tries to get back to normal and work on her friendships, but there’s nothing normal about surviving a serial killer attack, and it’s no one’s fault her friends keep noticing. She’s navigating the start of dealing with her trauma while also trying to be a good friend, especially since Billy hasn’t been feeling like himself lately. In a desperate attempt to feel like a normal, healthy teenager, Y/n crosses a personal boundary.

----

My mom has often told me that in many ways, I was born as an old lady.

She’d always say it after I tried being responsible. Suggesting that she give herself a curfew on weeknights, or at the very least, call if she was going to be late. Reminding her that there’s a reason people gave her the side eye when she took a visibly underage me into R-rated movies.

Now that I’m older, I guess she was right in a lot of ways. I wasn’t the kid-iest kid, if that makes sense, but there was one thing I was always good at: playing dress up.

With a mom like Gloria, it would have been hard not to. For years, my mom’s closet basically had the same magical properties as Disneyland. I thought that that mindset might have just been nine-year-old me, but apparently not, because Tatum and Sidney have been looking through it like it’s life changing.

“Okay.” Tatum picks up one of my mom’s shimmery wrap and tosses it over her shoulder. “It’s official, when I die, I want to be buried here.”

I look over in time to watch her observe herself in the mirror. “Then I hope you live for a very long time.”

She wrinkles her nose. “That better not be the only reason.”

“Course not, you know I love you very much, Tate-a-boo.” I make a quick kiss-y face, and Tatum almost giggles before returning the gesture.

Turning away from my mom’s dresses, Sidney smiles. “Please, for all our sakes, don’t let Stu hear you say that.”

After the joke settles, I practically snort. “Good point.” I step a little further into the closet, refocusing my attention. The only reason we’re all in here is because I wanted to borrow a pair of shoes before going out to the nail salon. It was Tatum’s idea, and the state of my cuticles made me agree. My social hibernation has not been good to them. “Okay, these are the shoes.”

Sidney steps out of the closet to give me the space to do the same. I slip on the shoes, happy with how they look with my outfit and their level of comfortableness. My mom rarely buys any shoes for herself that aren’t heels, so she ends up taking anything that’s remotely comfortable from my closet.

“I want to stay here.” Tatum’s hand brushes against the sleeve of something cashmere. “Maybe forever.”

“And leave your nail beds like that?” Sid glances away from the full length mirror that’s right outside of my mom’s closet. She turns her attention to her reflection, adjusting the fluffiness of her always, almost magically perfect bangs.

Tatum halfheartedly glares before stepping out of the closet. “You’re such a liar.” She raises a hand, studying her palm while walking out of the closet. “You told me they looked fine yesterday.”

Sidney almost smiles before throwing me a look. A quick raise of eyebrows that seems to say got her. “We’re gonna be late.”

----

The first nail appointment after awhile always feels like willingly volunteering to get a bunch of paper cuts. It’s not overwhelming painful, just a little irritating. After feels nice, though, now that my nails look fresh and I know I don’t have to worry about having my cuticles professionally gutted for a little bit.

And being around Sidney and Tatum is nice. Familiar in a way that’s still new. It’s weird in a good way. Like I could start throwing around cheesy terms like BFF and it wouldn’t even be dumb. It’d still be ironic, but I think they’d get the sentiment. It’s not that I’ve never had good friends, but this is different. A little more open.

Like right now we’re in Sidney’s room and we’re not talking about anything in particular, just going off of whatever comes up. I could probably say the dumbest thing in the world right now and it wouldn’t even feel unfitting or awkward.

“...Shut up, he was not that bad.” Tatum’s trying to sound more upset than she is. Somehow Sidney found a way to tell me about Tatum’s first boyfriend. A total middle school romance--they even went to the 8th grade dance together and held hands and had their first kiss under the bleachers. Sounds cute enough, but according to Sidney he was a total weirdo. Even by 8th grade boy standards. “He wasn’t.”

Sidney laughs again, the movement has her arm bumping into mine. “He tried to eat a live lizard because Stu dared him.”

“No way.” I snort. “Your first kiss was with a lizard eater?”

Tate sighs, dropping her head against the side of the mattress and crossing her legs on the floor. “Tried. It ran away and no one ever found it.” That’s still objectively hilarious. I can’t picture Tatum with anyone that out there, but then again, she is with Stu.

Not that he reminds me of an 8th grade boy trying to eat a lizard, but he was the one that came up with the idea. “Maybe Stu ate it.”

Tatum glares, halfheartedly shoving my leg as Sidney clasps a hand over her mouth to avoid laughing too hard. “I’ll ask him.”

It’s strange to picture them like that. A little younger, growing up together. “So you guys knew each other back then and now...”

She shrugs, “I don’t know...it just kind of happened. He was always hooking up with or seeing any girl with a pulse and I didn’t even see him like that until after--” She cuts herself off with no warning. “You know Sidney and Billy have a way nicer getting together story.” Tate snaps her head up to look at Sidney, whose expression immediately shifts. “Right, Sid?”

Sidney’s eyes briefly meet mine. There’s a bit of uneasiness there that I don’t get. What could the end of Tatum’s thought have been? What could she have been about to say that might have been--oh.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “Billy and I were hanging out for weeks--”

“You can say her name.” My throat feels drier than it did a second ago. “I won’t freak out if you mention Casey. Promise.”

Tatum’s eyes briefly shut. “That’s--” She doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. I’m right. Why wouldn’t she think I’d freak out? After the way I acted at that party. “No one would blame you if you did.”

It’s easy to say that it doesn’t matter when you’re not the one that has melt downs. “Yeah.”

There’s a brief stretch of awkward silence, the light mood now tainted by the exact thing that’s kept me away from my friends for so long. Maybe keeping to myself was about more than the safety of others--maybe I don’t want anyone to know what I’m like now.

“It’d be weirder if you weren’t a little messed up about it.” Tatum hums the words with such casualness I can’t help but laugh, even when Sidney snaps her head to the side to give her a seriously look. “I’m serious, only a total psycho would be able to see that and jump back into things.”

Sidney sits up a little more, “And you took the SAT a week after it all happened. You’re doing a lot better than most people would be doing.”

I nod, glad that they’re at least good at pretending that I’m not a total mess. “Yeah, guess I’m just sensitive about it because I freaked out on Noel at that party.” Ugh. That’s been something I’ve been trying really hard to forget. “He probably thinks I’m a total freak.” My eyes squeeze shut at the memory of the party. I had been a total mess. I flip flopped on murder accusations like it was nothing and nearly ran to Casey’s house in the middle of the night. “He’s probably told everyone I’m a total freak.”

“You don’t know that.” Sidney’s nice for trying to comfort me, but it’s not the best argument. She picks up on my expression because she then immediately tacks on, “Okay, let’s be logical--why would he do that?”

“Why wouldn’t he after the way I acted?” Ugh. Every guy that knows him is going to think I’m a complete weirdo. This is what I get for trying to date. “And it’s not like he called after. He hasn’t even talked to me in class since.”

Sidney’s eyebrows draw together briefly before her hands move off of her lap and land on her comforter. She pushes herself to stand. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Noel’s a total scrub. You’re better off.” Tatum stands too, scratching the back of her arm once. She approaches the bag she abandoned near Sidney’s door, “I brought that eyeshadow I was telling you about. The sparkly, blue one that makes everyone look like Baby Spice.”

She exhales what’s almost a laugh and I find myself not being able to answer. That does sound like something I’d normally happily go along with. Even though Tatum tends to go for a more subtle look on the day to day, she has a solid makeup collection. Lots of trendy shimmers and bright colors that are fun to swatch and mess around with. But there’s something about the way she said it...breezed away from one topic to this.

And the way Sidney just got up like she was hoping that’d change something. I sit up a little straighter, trying to remember what it’s like to not feel paranoid all the time.

Sidney stops adjusting her hair and messing with her bangs in the mirror. “Or we could hold off on that and go to the video store.” Another change to a topic that normally I’d be all over. “I think Randy’s working, we could bug him a little and get something to watch later.”

Okay, another thing I’d normally want to do. It has been a minute since I’ve gotten to annoy Randy, and the itch is definitely there. Maybe they’re just trying to be good friends and cheer me up, but they’re spitting out suggestions in a way that feels like they’re really hoping one will stick.

“Are--do you guys know something about something?” Ugh. If this is my paranoia acting up, I’ll never recover. Why can’t I just go along with things? “I don’t know if it’s me and my head, but you’re acting kinda weird.”

“No, we’re just--” Sidney’s eyes don’t stay on me, they shift over to Tatum for the briefest second. I blink and almost convince myself I’ve imagined it. “You’re not crazy, we just don’t want to stress you out.”

I push myself onto my feet. “That is the worst thing you can say to someone you don’t want to stress out.”

Sidney’s eyebrows draw together like she’s worried. I almost feel bad for pushing. “Noel not talking to you isn’t an accident or your fault.”

“Sid.” I snap my head in Tatum’s direction. She hesitates beneath my stare and gives in with a sigh, “Okay, Noel’s a player who brags about crushing girls’ virginities and breaking up with them the next day. He talks about every girl he’s dated like they’re some kind of car and there are even worse things written about him in the handicap stall of the second floor bathroom.” Tatum pauses, considering how she’s going to word what actually happened. “You’re going through a lot right now and that’s the last thing you need, and we were worried about you, so we talked to Stu and Billy and basically...got Noel to back off.”

Oh my god. The embarrassment, anger, and shock are all fighting for dominance in my mind, but none of them overpower the other so the feeling is just really fucking bad. All I can picture is Billy and Stu talking to Noel like I’m some little kid or someone with brain damage that can’t make their own choices.

“You guys suck!” I wipe at my face with the back of my hand, exhaustion cutting into my irritation. “Like really suck. I’m not some child that can’t make her own decisions.” Ugh--I can’t even decide how to react. “It’s not like I was going to marry him or anything.”

Tatum watches me with a certain level of uncertainty. I don’t think I’ve ever snapped at her or Sidney before. “You’re not exactly a casual dater.”

“Well--I-I could have been.” It feels awkward, almost reluctant, and I hate myself for it. She’s technically right. I’ve never casually dated, but I’ve never seriously dated either, so it probably wouldn’t kill me. “Either way, it might have been a mistake, but it was my mistake to make.”

“I know, Y/n,” Sidney breathes the words slowly, “We didn’t mean anything by it, it wasn’t like a whole scheme or anything it just--” She’s trying, really trying. “We wanted to help you.”

I didn’t need help, I was fine. The genuine hint of worry in her tone keeps me from pointing that out. I just stare at her and then at Tatum. Why does it matter anyways? Everyone gets to be normal and do dumb things and have people they’re close with and relationships and all I have is the stupid ‘almost murdered’ label.

“Why does it matter enough for you to--” I cut myself off, not sure what I’m really asking or what I mean.

Tatum lets out a small sigh, the sound almost reluctant, maybe a tiny bit annoyed that she even has to talk about this. “Because you’re our friend,” she half shrugs like what she’s saying should have been assumed , “And we love you.” She presses her lips together briefly, “Duh.”

Sidney throws a look in Tatum’s direction, “Yeah, we love you so much we were willing to risk you being super mad at us because we were worried.” Sidney pauses to take a breath. “We shouldn’t have done it behind your back, and in the future we won’t meddle.”

When I don’t ease, Tatum tacts on, “If it makes things any better, Stu’s normally a total guy’s guy about this kind of thing and even he thinks Noel’s a total creep.” She scratches the back of her wrist, “And those two never care about this stuff, so, boohoo, we all love you.”

Okay, that doesn’t exactly fix things but it does take the edge off just a tiny bit. They all go way back, and that’s intimidating. And Tatum’s trying to be funny about it, layering on the sarcasm so that I’ll laugh. I hate that it’s almost working. “Well, as long as it’s just everyone being obsessed with me...” The joke feels like a bit of a betrayal, so I tact on something else, “I’m still mad, though.” That feels even weaker. I’m too in my head about all of it and still pretty embarrassed despite the fact that I didn’t do anything. It won’t last forever, but right now, it’s all feeling like too much. The safety of my bedroom feels miles away instead of the few blocks it actually is. “I think I-I’m gonna...”

“No,” Tatum huffs, “It wasn’t supposed to be a thing.” She tilts her head to the side, silky blonde hair bouncing with the motion. “We haven’t seen you in forever and it was more Stu and Billy’s thing, they’ve been ready to start a thing with him since like the 9th grade.”

More Stu and Billy’s thing? That almost makes sense for Billy, who Noel casually suggested could be a murderer. But Stu? Noel seemed to like him well enough. Maybe it’s a loyalty thing. I can see Billy and Stu having a bit of package deal friendship. You can’t hate on one without becoming enemy of the other. And with how generally protective Stu seems to be over his friends, it’d make sense.

But still. I am not a bargaining chip or an excuse or someone that needs their approval on who I do or don’t date.

“Let’s do whatever you want to do and then if you’re still mad, we can invite them over and you can yell at them.”

Tatum almost smiles, “You’re good at that.”

That...feels a little weird. “I’m good at yelling?”

“No, it’s like when you told off that reporter. One minute, you’re normal, but then, when you need to be--bam! You’re super bitch.”

I laugh, this time it’s genuine. “Super bitch strikes again.” The exit is still close, and some nervous part of me wants to cling to the out. I’m not sure if it’s out of some form of fear or genuine anger or both. But I do want to stay around them a little longer and go take way too long renting a video just to annoy Randy. “If I get to pick what we do, I say we go bother Randy and get a movie. He’s had it easy for too long.”

Sid half scoffs at my ominous tone. “How do you know?”

"Knowing whether or not Randy needs to be annoyed is my superpower.”

----

The video rental is surprisingly empty for early Thursday evening. Schools are out and it’s close enough to the weekend where normally there are more people stopping by to check out what they want to watch in advance. Today doesn’t reflect that. Good to know that my Randy distress radar is still in tact.

There’s an older man adjusting the latest release aisle, changing out movies. He’s the only employee that I see as I scan over the store and a part of me nearly deflates. Sidney did say she thought Randy would be working and I have no way of knowing. Our friendship has also been a victim to my recent hermit ways, and it’s likely suffered more than my connection with anyone else. At least my other friends are in a couple of my classes or need to walk down the same hallways. Most of Randy’s classes aren’t near mine and we only share a study hall, which he often uses as an excuse to leave early in order to get to work. Meaning that most days I only see him during lunch.

The door to the back swings open and behind a cart of VHS tapes, there’s a familiar face. Randy. I find myself smiling as I approach the counter he’s coming up from behind.

“Excuse me,” he glances up, a bit of surprise causing him to raise his eyebrows, “I was wondering if you have a copy of Child’s Play 2, but not the original, the extended cut with the alternate ending, Sorority House Massacre, uncut, duh, and/or Fox’s original version of Clueless.”

Randy blinks, unfazed by my bullshit. “I’ve been around you too long to fall for that last one.”

I almost laugh. I can’t believe Randy remembers my rant about the developmental nightmare that was the original Clueless pitch. Fox wanted a TV show, but they got a movie instead, and that took way too long for no reason. I had talked about it a lot longer than I meant to the other day at school. “You caught it.”

“Decoys are always more obvious than they seem to the person making them.” It feels like some kind of movie rule reference, vague enough for me to get how it applies but not so random I feel the need to ask. “So are you here to rent something or make my job harder?”

“A little of both.” Turning my head, I gesture to where Sidney and Tatum are. They’re in the same aisle, backs to each other as they scan through options. “We wanted something to watch and Sidney said she thought you’d be working today.” I tap my nails against the counter. “And I had this feeling that things have probably been too easy for you.”

Randy’s lips turn upwards but it feels a little different than a smile. “Yeah, nothing but peace since you...”

“Became a total paranoid PTSD recluse?”

He half shrugs, “Jack Torrence.” I roll my eyes, a little relieved that Randy’s joking about it instead of pressing. It’s part of the reason he’s a good friend to have. “You’re feeling better, though, right?”

Spoke a little too soon, but that’s an okay question. It’s not invasive, it’s just an offer. “Getting there.”

Randy nods, taking in the answer for what feels like a little too long for two words. Maybe he’s feeling the honesty of what does seem like a cop out answer. I’m not over it by any means, but feeling better is a process that’s starting to work. “That’s good.” He pushes the cart slightly before pulling back to place. “You’re good.” Randy lets out a breath, tugging and pushing the cart again. “I mean--deserve to feel good and normal.”

I grin at the stumble in words. It’s rare that we’re openly nice to each other instead of acting like little kids after one pulls the other’s hair. “I get what you mean.”

His lips part, but no words come out. Randy’s eyebrows draw together as his mouth shuts. What is--a firm touch on my shoulder snaps the question out of me. My head turns and some kind of comment about being rude to people in line rises and immediately falls back down. Stu! And then I remember my earlier conversation and it feels a lot more like: Oh. Stu.

It’s such an instant flip that for a second I don’t react. Stu pulls his arm around me in a quick attempt at a side hug, but I’m so stiff it’s more like being shoved into him. “Look who’s here.”

Bumping into him is by no means new to me. Small town, same friends, some overlap in hobbies. But this time it’s different. I promised myself that Stu and Billy would get scolded for meddling as soon as possible, but I didn’t expect run into him in public. It’s like being a parent with a child that’s misbehaving in church. You can’t do anything but redirect until you get to the car.

Stu drops his arm back to his side. “Thought you were doing something with Tatum and Sid?”

“They’re over there,” I gesture vaguely with a tilt of my head, trying to seem casual. I might not be willing to get into the whole Noel thing in front of Randy and the suburban mom trying to settle a dispute between two kids who can’t decide which movie to get, but Stu probably is. “I wouldn’t look too closely, girls’ night movies might make you sick.”

Stu misses by just a second. He does wrinkle his nose in a display of the kind of good humor I’d expect from him, but it doesn’t feel as natural. There’s nothing wrong about his reaction, it just feels lacking. Missing his usual brand of energy. “I have no issue with girls’ night movies.”

Clearly, I’ve been spending too much time with him because I get the joke instantly. Now it’s my turn to cringe. “Why do I even talk to you?”

“Because, buggsie, your life would be so boring without me.” The nickname does make my expression warp, but this time it’s more like trying to keep in a laugh than anything else. “If your only movie influence was Randy, you’d be a lot less likable.”

Randy sighs. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The words are just a little too sharp. They’re good enough friends in some senses. Not two I’d guess hang alone together, but I like to think at the end of the day they like co-existing. That doesn’t mean they don’t bicker from time to time in a way that feels different than when Randy and I fight like little kids or Stu and I fight like an old married couple too lazy to get divorced.

“No need to be bitter, dude,” Stu’s hand is back around my shoulder, “I gave you a whole five minutes.” That was a weird thing to say. Random, and not in a fun sort of way, but before I can ask, Stu’s pulling me forward. “You want to help me sneak up on Tay?”

I throw Randy a look that hopefully communicates my level of confusion and some sort of see you later. “Uh...” Stu’s already turning like I’ve answered, “Sure?”

When we’re finally closer to the shelves than the counter, Stu lets me go, his hand sliding down my arm a little before retracting. “So you go up to Tatum, talk to her, keep her distracted, and I’ll sneak up behind her.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He’s moving along so quickly and casually, but I’m still fixed on that last comment to Randy. It wasn’t banter-y and Randy didn’t say anything back, which feels a little weird. “That last thing you said, the five minute thing?”

Stu barely pauses, head tilting in a way that feels confused. “Oh. Gave him five minutes to make a move, but you know Randy, not a closer.”

It’s said casually enough that I could think Stu’s being serious, but there’s also a hum of sarcasm in there. And what he’s saying does feel too unrealistic to not be a joke. Randy and I are completely platonic, there’s no way he sees me like that. Plus, I’d like to think that if a guy I’m around that regularly liked me in any sort of way, I’d have at least somewhat picked up on it.

“Shut up,” I shove Stu’s arm, “You’re not funny.”

He holds his hands up in defense briefly. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

It’s said casual enough that I’m finally given a second to think. The nagging voice at the back of my head is finally given the opportunity to remind me that I’m supposed to be mad at him. Or, at the very least, irritated until I can tell him off for trying to make decisions for me behind my back.

“Interesting that you mention shooting you, be--”

“Ouch,” Stu hums, a little too pointedly, “Thought we were all good, angel.” I press my lips together, staring at the ground to avoid giving him anything to latch onto. “I’ve been on best behavior. Minding my business, just here to check something out.”

I stop, a motion I think is subtle enough but Stu picks up on it immediately. He turns and grabs my wrist. The contact is sudden enough to force me to look up. Stu’s watching me, his expression seems innocent, and not in that pretend way either. There’s a hint of confusion behind his eyes. I’m not sure I entirely believe it, but I think it’s possible that what I’m mad about isn’t coming to mind. He has no reason to think I’d know about it.

His hold is firm and oddly warm and bordering on distracting.

“Stu,” Tatum’s cheery voice snaps the two of us out of our stand off.

He pulls away quickly, eyes falling on Tatum. “There’s my girl.” Stu pulls her into a hug and gives her a quick kiss. “Y/n was going to help me sneak up and surprise you, but she’s in a mood.”

Ugh. Stu has a way of dismissing any type of reaction that doesn’t work for him as me being in a mood or pouting. “I am not in a mood.”

“Give her a break.” Stu’s hands are still on her. “Y/n found out about the Noel thing.”My gaze instinctually shifts back to Stu. His easygoing grin falters. Tatum smiles at him with a coy look that I guess could be interpreted as some kind of apology. “Don’t get moody, she pulled it out of us.”

It takes him a second, but Stu eventually eases off of her. He doesn’t look as content as before, but his expression hints at nothing else besides casual annoyance. “She can’t be too mad if she’s still hanging around you and Sid.”

“I got to tell them both off already.”

Stu turns, something smug tugging his face into an almost smile. It’s infuriating. “If that’s what you’re into, babe.”

Tatum scoffs and halfheartedly smacks his shoulders. “You’ve been around long enough that I don’t have to apologize for him anymore, right?”

“Right.”

Stu lets out a breath, “Geez, you two sure act like you love me.”

I am so not in the mood to say anything nice about Stu in front of him. “Maybe if you minded your business a little more--”

“Okay,” Tatum pushes herself into the budding argument and looks at me. “Save your energy for when there’s two of them.” Good point. If I yelled at Stu and Billy separately every time they messed up, I’d be yelling constantly. Tatum’s attention shifts back to Stu, “Is he around? Sid’s around the corner.”

Stu shakes his head once. “Nah, it’s still early and he only said he might call. He’s been a little out of it.”

Billy’s out of it? And out of it enough to not be around Stu for once? It’s not like they’re literally attached at the hip but a weekend evening where both me and their girlfriends are busy and they’re not hanging out together? That in itself hints at something being wrong.

I think through the last I heard from Billy, but nothing particularly stands out. He might have briefly mentioned his dad but not in a concerning way. Not in a way that indicated he’d have to spend extra time with him or anything.

Billy has also been weirdly absent. No recent warning-less appearances at my window. Has he been going through something and I’m just too caught up in my personal issues to notice? God, this serial killer nonsense has turned me into a terrible friend.

“He okay?”

Stu’s eyes flit up to meet mine. “You might want to hold off on the scolding, but last time I checked in, yeah. Just all angsty, you know how Billy gets.”

I blink. Last time he checked in. Maybe I’m idealizing their friendship too much, but I’ve always felt like they were looking out for each other. Closer than Stu’s current reaction warrants. Or maybe I’m overthinking things and Billy’s just taking some time. He doesn’t seem the type to want to talk about fuzzy things like feelings.

“We were going to ask you guys to come over, but if he’s not up for it, that’s okay,” Tatum says, “You can still come by later, but I think you should check in on him.”

Now I’m starting to feel antsy. Like I should go check in on Billy, but I don’t even know what that’d look like. The realization that I’ve never been to Billy’s house hits hard and with no warning. Whenever we all hang out, it’s at my place or someone else’s, and when it’s the three of us we go to Stu’s and sometimes my house. The thought rubs me the wrong way, like this one thing is pulling on the threads of our friendship.

He’s one of my best friends and I can’t even say I know what his room looks like.

“I’ll probably stop by soon.”

That makes me frown. Probably. Soon.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Tatum’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Dewey wanted me to give you a head’s up that he’ll be trying to meet with you soon. He wants to go over some....stuff.”

Ugh, this again. I can’t escape it. “Yeah. He has my number, Dewey can call whenever, but the warning was nice.”

Stu shifts back like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “He wants to talk to her again?” He’s more offended than I am. “What? It’s not like anything’s changed.”

Tatum shrugs, “I don’t know. Dewey doesn’t give me the details.”

“Unless they have new evidence, they shouldn’t be dragging her back into it just because they don’t know shit.”

I should tell him to drop it. That this is my business and maybe it’s time we establish some firmer boundaries, but I can’t get the words to form. The whole thing feels hypocritical. I should be annoyed, but I’m not because he’s saying what I can’t.

It’s brief, but for a second it almost feels like Stu might be the closest to someone that gets what it feels like. The irony is insane, considering that there’s no way that empathy’s his strong suit.

“I don’t know. It’s not my thing.”

Tatum is understandably a little defensive, which is fair. Especially when considering our earlier conversation. This isn’t fair to her. “It’s okay.” The words feel like a flat cop out compared to Stu’s instinctual defense. “It’s not Tatum’s fault and Dewey was really nice about it last time--”

“Last time? You mean when they ambushed you at the hospital before they let you take visitors?”

My stomach knots at that. The feeling of waking up there, confused and unaware of what I’d just been through and then being made to feel like I was completely alone while Billy and Stu were waiting outside for me. “That’s not his fault.” A dry defense. “It sucks, but it’s for the greater good and it won’t take long.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or him. “It’s okay.”

Stu half sighs. “I’m going to grab my movie and head out, maybe stop by Billy’s.” He tuns to give Tatum a brief goodbye kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you soon, Y/n. Make sure you get to yell at me before it builds too much.”

At that, I roll my eyes but still wave him off.

----

My eyes are on the phone again, staring down the extension on my nightstand like it’s keeping things from me.

Ugh. This is ridiculous. I snap my attention back to the homework in front of me. Some extra credit for my math class. It’s an attempt at damage control because the test I had to take the morning after being attacked by a serial killer is seriously bringing down my GPA. Too bad calc has never been my strong suit. The distraction that is my inability to move on from what Stu said is definitely not helping.

Even after Sidney, Tatum, and I left the video store, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Stu’s uncertainty and what Billy could be going through. Maybe Stu was playing down how much he knows because Billy didn’t want anyone else knowing. I could see that. Hope for that since the thought of Billy locking himself in his room and dealing with whatever it is completely alone tugs at my heart.

I could call. He might not answer, but that’s okay. It might make me feel better to just do something and it’s not like I’ve never called him. There’s also the more extreme option of showing up to his place. I’ve never been to his house, but he’s pointed it out before. Even though I physically could get there, that feels like too much. If I’ve never been over, it’s probably for a reason.

There’s also Stu. I could call him to ask about Billy. He’s more likely to tell me about how Billy’s doing than Billy. But that also feels weird for no reason. Again, it’s not like I never call them.

I glance over at the digital clock on my desk. 7:56. Okay--it’s not too late. Not weirdly late.

I stand before I can think about it too much, walking over to the phone. If it’s going to be distracting, I should just get it over with. Maybe having some kind of answer will make it easier to focus on things.

The phone rings about three times before there’s an answer. “Yeah?”

“Hey.” Okay, that one word feels super awkward for no reason. “Hi--it’s um--” Be more normal. It’s just Stu. “It’s Y/n.”

A quick breath that feels more like a laugh than it sounds. “Yeah, I figured that out.” Great, now he’s making fun of me. “I also know why you’re calling.”

“Really?”

I can feel his amusement over the phone. “You can’t stop thinking about me and want me to come over.”

I snort as soon as the words wash over me. What was I expecting? “You figured it out. This is a booty call.”

Stu sort of laughs. “Yeah? I can be over in five.”

Pressing my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, I sit up a little more. “Loser.” I reach over for a pillow and pull it on to my lap. “Okay, so actual reason, I was trying to do something for calc, so obviously my mind was wandering and thinking about literally anything else.”

“Obviously.”

My fingers brush the fluff of the pillow’s exterior. I brush the strands flat and then back into little spikes of hair. “And at some point, I started thinking about what you said at the video store. About Billy.”

There’s a brief silence, and then another one of Stu’s breathy-accidental-laughs. “Aw, you’re worried.” Ugh. “That’s cute, angel, I’ll make sure to tell him.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.”

My nose wrinkles at that, nails smothering my pillow’s layer of fluff. “Is he okay or not?”

For a second, the only thing coming from the other side of the phone is the general static of someone’s movement. “Bossy.” I roll my eyes, but before I can tell him to spare me tonight, Stu continues, “Why didn’t you just call Billy?”

It’s a fair question, which only bugs me more. “Because there’s no way to call someone and ask if they’re okay based on a passing comment without sounding insane.”

I pinch the thin hairs of my pillows between my thumb and index finger. “And it’s less insane this way?”

Feels like it. “Kinda, yeah.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Billy’s fine, he’ll be back to his usual levels of brooding soon. Promise.” I don’t know what to make of that, so I just focus on my pillow. “It might help if you called him tomorrow. Let him sleep it off for a little longer.”

That’s probably a good suggestion. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” My eyes drift back to the still open textbook on my desk. My mom is out with Wells so I can’t even use her as an excuse to not be doing this right now. I briefly bite my tongue to give myself a second to think through what I’m considering. “You um--are you doing anything right now?” Even more awkward. Great. “I could really use an excuse to not work on calc right now.”

“Now it’s a booty call.”

Being friends with him is so annoying sometimes. “I hate you.”

“Ouch,” a brief shuffling before he speaks again, “You know I love distracting you--” I roll my eyes. “But tonight’s--”

“Shit, is Tatum over or something?” A hand flies over my mouth. Of course I’d call at a time where he had someone over and be a total mess. “I’m sorry.”

Some more static before a response, “No, it’s--” He sighs once. “Billy’s here and he’s--” Oh. My embarrassment is definitely doubling, but there’s still some relief there. At least he’s not alone. “Maybe you should come over, help cheer him up.”

“You’re kind of an asshole for not mentioning that earlier.” I push the throw pillow off my lap and let my back fall onto my cocoon of larger pillows. “And it’s fine, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm him or anything.”

“No,” Stu’s answer is quick but feels a little flat. Almost worried. “You--I think it’d be good for him to see you.” There’s still a bit of hesitance there, like Stu’s not telling me the full story. Maybe he can’t. “We rented a few movies and I think I might still have those sour gummy things you like.”

I really do love sour gummies. “Is Billy okay with it?”

“It’s my house, bug.” When I don’t say anything, Stu sighs, “Kidding. C’mon, he loves you.” I don’t know why I’m debating so much, it was my idea, but now it feels a little intrusive of me. “And we’re a lot more fun than calculus.”

“Not a high bar you’re setting there.” Stu pointedly scoffs. “Okay--if you’re sure Billy’s okay with it, I’ll be over in a few.”

“Need to go ask your mommy?”

I’m already pushing myself to my feet. “Shut up.” An ‘at least I have a parent that gives a shit’ nearly slips out and I just barely manage to bite my tongue. That’d be like reacting to a playful shove with a punch to the face. Besides, my mom’s not a factor right now. She and Wells are out to dinner with some friends. She left me with a 20 to order pizza and maybe rent a movie. “I can still not go.”

Stu chooses to ignore the (empty) threat, “See you soon, babe.”

I push open the door of my closet and search through it as quickly as possible. It’s not like I need to get dressed up to go to Stu’s, but my stained pajama pants from the ninth grade and practically threadbare tank top aren’t things I wear out of the house. Especially now that fall is making evenings a lot chillier. “I don’t get our friendship.”

“I keep you supplied with those awful sour gummies.”

I smile despite myself, grabbing something out of my closet. “That explains it.” Bending down, I pick up another article of clothing. “See you soon.”

----

“There she is.”

Stu pulls me into a hug before I can think to react. He’s always so warm and everywhere. I think it has to do with his smell. It sounds weird but he’s so consistent about it. Enough expensive laundry detergent to drown out most of the usual teen boy body spray musk to a level that’s tolerable and sharpens the slight hint of weed that seems to cling to him. Even that is balanced. Subtle unless you know to think about it. But now it’s a little more overwhelming than usual...fresher.

Like he just finished a joint. I stare at him for a second and while his eyes seem mostly normal, there’s a bit of a red tinge there. If it wasn’t for the smell of weed, I wouldn’t have noticed. “Are you high?”

The corner of Stu’s mouth pulls up into an almost smile. He’s amused. “That’s a fun way to greet me.” I give him a pointed look. “Mmm...maybe a little.” Stu extends an arm, halfheartedly punching me in the shoulder. Instead of dropping his arm like usual, Stu relaxes his fist in order to squeeze the top of my arm. “What gave me away, angel?”

“With you, it’s always a safe guess.” He sort of frowns, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Kidding. You smell like a dispensary.”

Stu squeezes my arm a little harder. “Judgy.” He tilts his head slightly. “And here I was going to offer you some.”

“No one likes me when I’m high.” That’s true enough. I get all paranoid and clingy. Randy won’t even smoke around me if we’re alone just in case.

He half scoffs. “Nah, that’s just for people that don’t know how to handle you.”

Handle me? I’m about to give him some sarcastic answer, but when my eyes meet his, the reaction freezes over. He’s staring at me with a concentration that feels more prominent than his hand on my arm. I don’t know why, but I feel the need the redirect and break the silence. “Where’s Billy?”

“In my room.” Stu swings a hand around my shoulder and starts guiding me forward. “C’mon, he’ll be happy to see you.”

I should shrug Stu off of me, but it feels easier to just let him. Besides, there are other things to worry about. From the vagueness Stu’s been handling mentions of Billy with, I half expect him to be in a straight jacket or something. “He--he does know I’m here, right?”

The only answer I get is Stu placing a hand on his bedroom door once we reach it. He releases me to push open it open. “Hey, feeling any better?” Billy doesn’t get a chance to reply before Stu continues, “Because I brought you a present.”

Weird...and kind of objectifying, but in a weird way. It’s not so much the words, but the way he’s saying them. This is definitely an ambush. Stu pushes the door open all the way before I can really react. I still make a point of smacking his arm. “Don’t make it weird.”

I turn my head towards Stu’s room. Billy is in there, sitting with his back against the headboard and he’s looking at me but there’s little recognition. It’s more like he’s seeing through me. I want to assume it’s part of some kind of side effect of being high, but I can’t quite get myself to dismiss it as something so casual.

Any fight directed at Stu evaporates into the air and morphs into this weird veil of tension. Not good or bad. Just heavy and full, bleeding through the room and into the hall where I’m still standing.

“Hi,” it feels like an attempt at cutting through the harshness, “I heard you were feeling bad so I thought I’d come back and make you feel worse.”

Billy’s eyebrows draw together slightly, like he’s considering how to react. He settles on a, “Yeah?” It feels smaller than the way he usually is.

I swallow my instinctual reaction. “Yeah--things aren’t looking too good in Iraq and everyone’s getting too comfortable with nuclear bombs.”

The corner of his mouth turns up into an almost smile. It’s not quite there, but the thawing of the icy layer behind his gaze is cracking. “Anything else?”

“I still think the Princess Diana divorce is kind of a bummer.”

Stu sighs dramatically. “Of course you’re on her side.”

“There is no other side, Charles is the worst.”

Stu walks fully into his room and practically flops onto his bed. His head hits Billy’s calf and Billy throws him a dirty look before adjusting. “Charles is next in line for the throne. That entitles him to all the girls he wants. That’s just history.”

I wrinkle my nose and halfheartedly glare at him. “He’s also probably inbred.”

Billy sits up a little further, reaching for what I’m assuming is a joint. “Definitely inbred.”

The small vouch of support is strangely easing.

Stu tilts his head to look at me briefly. “You two deserve each other.”

“Don’t pout.” Maybe not my smartest joke, but it’s too easy to pass up on.

He props his head up just to glare at me. “I can still kick you out.”

I roll my eyes and Billy wordlessly extends what he’s been smoking. Stu reaches for it absentmindedly and Billy moves his arm away. “You need to slow down.”

Stu doesn’t protest, which has to be a byproduct of his easy high. I’m so distracted by that it takes a second for it to click. If Billy isn’t handing off the joint to Stu, he’s trying to give it to me...the person who’s going to be around their mom and a cop before the night’s over.

“Can’t tonight.” I’m so going to get bullied for this, “My mom would know immediately, and then she’d kill all three of us.”

Billy sits up a little more, not fully taking his hand back but relaxing it a little. Stu drops his head back down, accidentally landing on Billy’s leg. I suppress a laugh when Billy lazily shrugs Stu off. It doesn’t work, because Stu still glares at me as he curls into himself slightly. “You could stay over, sleep it off.”

Maybe Stu’s more high than I thought. I take a step forward, feeling awkward about the distance. “I don’t see how that helps the my mom killing us all thing.”

“You could call her from my home phone, tell her you’re staying over at Sidney’s or Tay’s.” Stu doesn’t wait for my response before stretching out an arm in my direction. “Come here.”

It feels a little bit like a trap, but at the same time, standing this close to the door is probably weirder than anything Stu’s going to try. I walk forward and sit down on the edge of his bed. Stu smiles lazily and adjusts so that his legs are on my lap. They’re long. He’s basically an arachnid.

With Stu, a firm approach is usually best, but this seems harmless enough so I don’t kick him off of me. “You’re like a spider.”

He laugh-scoffs, stretching even further. “Like a daddy long legs.”

There’s a weird attempt at sultriness in his words. It’s so stupid I can’t hep the terrible laugh that comes out. “Shut up. You’re so gross.” Now I do want him off of me. He won’t move so I try dragging myself back a little. All that does is make me bump into Billy’s arm. “Sorry.”

Dismissing my apologetic look with a short wave of the hand still holding the joint, Billy sits up even more, angling himself towards me. “You should be.” It’s sarcastic, but still oddly flat, like Billy’s putting work into being a part of the conversation.

Stu, clearly feeling forgotten, softly kicks his leg. “Your sobriety’s bringing old Billy Boy back down.”

I lean back, ignoring the way my fingers brush against Billy’s. “I promise me being high would only depress him more.”

“I like you high,” Billy muses flatly, “You get all jumpy.”

I roll my eyes, trying to straighten to pull my hand back but Billy doesn’t let me get that far. His hand turns over and pulls his fingers between my own. It’s a casual enough attempt to pull me back into place, but his eyes are so quick to meet mine. There’s something almost nervous about the shift, and vaguely familiar. An uncertain, begrudging request for reassurance I’ve come to associate with people going through some sort of depressive episode.

“That was one time,” I mumble, “And it was because you guys are assholes and didn’t tell me that it was extra strong.”

Stu’s leg moves again, “It wasn’t extra strong, we just didn’t pace you.”

“Either way--assholes.”

Billy moves his thumb along my knuckles. “We’ll be nice this time.” He takes a deliberate hit and exhales the smoke in a way that lingers. I can feel the smell of it, a paranoid part of me thinking it’s already caught up in my hair and clothes and skin. Like my mom will just be able to tell already. Maybe it is already too late.

And it’d upset her. She’s already worried enough about how I’m handling all the killer stuff, if she thinks I’m acting out and smoking she’ll probably freak. This also wouldn’t be the first time I did something like this and didn’t tell her...or the first time I stayed over at a friend’s house to sleep something off.

It’s also objectively nice to be around them. Also, Billy’s whole slightly off thing is something I’ve definitely seen before. The familiarity finally clicks into place, a few memories of my mother from when I was younger. Bad ones, days in which things slipped through the cracks before my mom was diagnosed and started managing that part of herself.

“Even if you don’t smoke, you should call your mom...stay over.” Billy gets the words out stiffly, like some invisible force was trying to shove them back down his throat. “Keep me from being alone with that one.”

Stu lets out a sound that’s sounds a lot like a tired “fuck off”. The casual disapproval makes me smile.

Billy takes another, much shorter hit. I let myself observe the process. The way the smoke goes in, how he holds it in, and finally the way he forces it out. Billy wordlessly turns the joint around in a silent offering. I give in with an exhale and reach over. Billy doesn’t let me get that far, moving so that his fingers are almost to my mouth. I part my lips and let him hold the joint there as I inhale. He doesn’t give me long before taking it back. He runs his thumb along my knuckles. “Hold.” I struggle, but follow through. “Good. Now breathe.”

I let it out with a slight cough.

“There ya go,” Stu mumbles, patiently dragging his leg up my thigh. “You’ll feel better.” I wish I had more experience with smoking outside of them. If I did, I’d have a reference point to tell me if Stu’s weed is actually extra strong or not. I’m sure what he gets is considered good shit, since he definitely has the money and tolerance. “You should call your mom before you get all giggly.”

I openly frown. “I do not get ‘giggly’.”

“Yeah, you do.”

I’m not in an argumentative mood. Maybe it’s the atmosphere or the weed is already starting to cloud my judgement. I should call my mom, though. It hasn’t been that long since I left, which means she’s probably still out with Wells. It’ll be easier to just leave a message on the machine. She always checks when she gets home.

Ever since the first incident, my mom keeps a cell phone on her that’s always on, but it’s still weird to both of us. I don’t have the number fully memorized yet, it’s written on a note held to the fridge by a magnet back home...a few blocks away. The cell phone isn’t exclusively emergency, but my mom doesn’t love portable technology. She thinks they’re tacky and breed rudeness.

I tap Stu’s leg, “Up.”

Surprisingly enough, Stu listens, letting me go. I let go of Billy’s hand and reach for the extension on Stu’s nightstand. I quickly dial my number and leave a flat message. Staying over at Sid’s, have fun but not too much fun, love you and see you tomorrow.

In a moment of straight forward association, I almost went with telling my mom I was staying at Tatum’s, but I have to talk to Dewey soon and my mom will probably be there and that felt like a potential loose end.

Stu half snorts, “Love you and see you tomorrow, mom.”

I shove Stu’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Have fun but not too much fun,” Billy mumbles, a lot more subdued but just as teasing.

Rolling my eyes, I move back to the edge of the bed where I was sitting before. “It’s an inside joke.”

Stu leans forward and pinches my cheek. “That’s adorable.”

The patronization doesn’t sit well and my eyelids feel heavier than they did a second ago. “I hate you guys.”

“Clearly,” Stu breathes, reaching over and taking the joint from Billy. “Oh, Billy, forgot to tell you, Y/n’s supposed to be mad at us.” Billy tilts his head a little too far to one side like that’s news enough for him to be curious. “Tay told her about the Noel thing.”

Billy feels imbalanced, head leaning one way and spine straight. His eyes harden over again. “Really?” He takes my hand again, this time a lot less softly. “Over that asshole?” I let him run his knuckles over my hand again, even though this time it feels a lot less soothing. “If none of your friends like a guy, that usually says something about the guy.”

I’m sure there’s some kind of joke I could spin. Maybe about where he learned that one from. Get that from Cosmo? But the bordering on defensive look behind Billy’s eyes is overbearing and messing with my head. Stu is seriously in danger for bringing this up right now.

“It’s not about the guy,” I manage, “It’s about...” All the points I had feel a lot less concrete under Billy’s scrutiny...or maybe it’s the weed. Or both. I swallow, dropping my gaze to my lap as I try to really think. Okay, it’s definitely both. “Timing and boundaries.” It feels fractured. “Like even if a guy totally sucks, you can’t go over my head about it.”

Stu lets out a sigh, dropping his head onto one of his pillow’s. I glare openly. This is all his fault. Why bring it up now? Billy was just starting to act a little more like himself. “I don’t know what you see in him.” Ugh. It’s like he’s not even hearing me. “Especially with the way he talked about Casey.”

That last part hits its intended goal. Stu’s staring at the ceiling, so I can’t see his expression, but he seems to take my silence as a win. I don’t know Noel as well as they do, but he did talk about Casey at that party and it wasn’t exactly kind.

I squeeze what I can grab of the comforter like that will tether me here. It half works but it does nothing to ease the tightening in my chest. The memories mix uneasily with the start of my high. The dip of panic doesn’t suit the way my body wants to feel and it all blends together in a way that leaves me on edge and a little nauseous.

There’s the sound of someone moving, but I barely pick up on it. Billy smacks the side of Stu’s head. “Too much, asshole.”

Stu throws Billy an offended look before craning his neck to look at me. I must look as off as I feel, because Stu does sit up. “Shit,” he pushes himself back, “Sorry. I didn’t think--”

“You never think.” The words are pointed, but not completely angry. If I was feeling any better, I would’ve laughed. He slowly reaches forward and I don’t stop him from prying my fingers away from the sheets. “Your trip going a little bad?” I nod. “Don’t think about it.” Easier said than done. “You could end up like Stu the one time he smoked too much while watching one of those old horror movies where the special effects are basically held up by a string.”

That cracks at the panic a little. “What did he do?”

“Convinced himself that it was real and we were the ones that were off.”

I almost laugh. “Actually?”

“Shut up,” Stu sighs, a little bitter but not actually mad.

Billy ignores him, “Actually.” He turns my hand over carefully before running his fingers over the thin scar on my palm and up my wrist. “So you’re already doing better than him.”

For a second, I let myself study Billy. The wisps of hair falling forward, the slight pinch between his eyebrows, his focused expression. Billy almost always holds himself with a certain tenseness. Whether that’s force of habit or natural to him, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why he gets along so well with Stu. They balance each other.

“Are you...” I don’t know where I’m going with this. “Are you feeling any better?”

His expression briefly clouds, pulling into something much more blank. He drops his gaze and for a second I feel like I might need to take it back. “Yeah--yeah, don’t worry.” Again, easier said than done. Billy clears his throat almost immediately after, like that will erase the fact that he actually responded.

“Good.” It doesn’t sound overly positive, but he hasn’t convinced me. “I’ve missed you, a little.” That feels a lot more real.

Billy angles his head downwards, almost smiling. “Only a little?”

“It’s not like you haven’t been around at all.” He traces an invisible line up my wrist. “Maybe more than a little, anyway.”

“Aw,” Stu hums, his hand finding a place on my back. He leans forward and rests his head on my shoulder. “You two are adorable.” I’m not really given a chance to answer before Stu lets out a sigh that I feel against my neck, “Don’t be mad.”

Honestly, I’m not feeling any anger. I’m a little annoyed at him and frustrated that I’m still not normal. That’s all there is. It’s too tiring to turn into anger. “’M not mad,” it feels like a confession, “A little annoyed at you, but not more than usual.”

He breathes a sarcastic, “Haha” into my shoulder.

With no warning, I start to unweave myself from them. I think they’re too confused to ask until I’m actually standing.

“Where are you going, angel?”

I don’t really know, so I can’t really answer. Stu’s room isn’t super familiar. I’ve been in here a couple times, most of them brief. I take a second to really take in the space. A lot of posters, the ones that aren’t directly bloody movie posters feature practically naked women and some combine the two. It fits him.

“Getting a feel,” I decide on, “You can tell a lot about a person based on their room.”

Stu moves to the edge of his bed, grinning at my focus. “Really?”

I move to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. “Mhm.”

“You’re not going to like anything you find in there.” He places a hand on the front of drawer but doesn’t stop me.

It takes me a second too long to realize what he’s getting at. By then, I’ve already taken in a cover of a magazine with a model that’s wearing even less than the girls on the posters, a box of condoms, a surprisingly neatly stacked set of polaroids, an old deck of cards, and a few random odds and ends all crammed in there.

My nose wrinkles, but I’m too distracted by the polaroids to make fun of him. I can only see the top one, but it’s innocent enough, an accidental snapshot that sort of looks like a blurry person on a couch.

“Polaroids?” I pick them out of the drawer and flip to the next one. A small lump that looks like a cat in Stu’s living room. Weird, I’ve never seen one in his house and he’s never mentioned having a pet. Maybe these are old pictures. Before I can snoop any further, Stu pulls the stack of photos away from me. “You’re no fun.”

He rolls his eyes as he moves the first photo back into place. “You’re nosy.” I don’t say anything because I’m not so high that I’m clueless. This is a little weird of me, but I can’t help the impulse. “What if the next picture had been me naked?”

“You take naked pictures of yourself and keep them in your nightstand?”

Stu intentionally ignores my laughter. “You don’t need pictures for that, baby, you can see the real thing.”

My laughter picks up again. “Yeah? Let’s go right now.”

At that, Stu does crack a bit of a smile. “Let’s make Billy strip first.”

“Deal,” I mumble through another laugh.

Billy drops his head onto a pillow, “Fuck off.”

I turn my attention back to the card deck and dig them out with my nail. “Any naked pictures hidden in here or am I good?”

“No promises.” With that as my warning, I begin to shuffle the cards absentmindedly. “Why? You wanna play strip poker?”

Ignoring him, I move back to my previous position on the edge of the bed. “Think I’m good.”

I drag the nail of my thumb along the edge of the cards and focus on the sound of them. Billy nudges my knee with his. I look up as he extends his arm, silently asking for the cards. I hand them over without thinking much about it. Billy begins to actually shuffle in a way that would fit Vegas.

He has to notice my mesmerized stare, but he says nothing. “Do you actually know how to play anything?”

My mom briefly worked at a casino when I was in the first grade and she’d have to bring me in sometimes, but I retained nothing. “Not really.”

That starts something. A process that should have been short and easy. Billy trying to explain different versions of poker and Stu trying to trick me, but only sometimes so I couldn’t know to for sure not trust him. It’s a mess of laughter and a refreshing lack of angst. Every once in awhile, someone insists that a loser has to take a drag from a joint, so everyone’s progressively getting worse. I’m pretty sure Stu’s cheating somehow, but I have no proof and I’m too out of it to get any.

It’s so lighthearted and genuinely fun that I’m fighting against the heaviness of my eyelids. It can’t be that late, but I’m already starting to feel drowsy. I’ve finally been given good cards, so I really need to get it together. “I won.”

Stu scoffs, eyebrows drawing together as he eyes the cards I just set down. “No--that’s not--”

“I won,” a yawn cuts my sentence in half, “Don’t be a loser about it.”

Stu picks up all the cards, ignoring my protests. He’s already mixed me up a couple of times. “I can let you have this one, because you’re--”

“Because you have to.”

Billy turns his ankle, tapping his foot against my leg. “Don’t be mean about it.”

That was nowhere near mean. “Dramatic, both of you.”

Stu’s mouth falls open in a mock gasp as he continues to gather cards. I don’t know what he’s doing until he drops them all back into his drawer and shuts it. He then walks towards his dresser, pulls out a T-shirt, and tosses it in my direction. “After all I’ve done for you.”

I pick up the T-shirt and fold it onto my lap but make no move to go to the bathroom to change. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“You’re half asleep already.” Billy ignores the dirty look I give him. “Just change in case you fall asleep.”

Stupid voice of reason. I scratch the back of my wrist and decide to give in. If for no other reason than the fact that Stu’s shirt is almost weirdly soft. Rich people must have access to different kinds of fabric. I reluctantly get up and find Stu’s bathroom.

I change quickly and take a second to make sure Stu gave me a long enough T-shirt. Thankfully, he did, so I don’t have to feel extra awkward about anything. I fold my clothes and bring them back with me.

“Looks nice on you, babe.”

Drowsiness hits harder without any distractions. I blink, unsure on how to respond. Stu’s always a flirt with everyone, but it feels a little weird to react to it while standing in his room at night in one of his T-shirts. “It’s the rich guy cotton.”

The corner of his mouth turns up. “And those legs.”

“Shut up.”

Billy turns onto his side, fluffing his pillow. “Go to sleep before he gets worse.”

“Yeah.” The two of them look comfortable, all settled. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

Stu props his head up on an elbow. “You don’t wanna do that. Living room’s creepy at night and you’ve smoked too much. You’ll get scared.”

“I’m not 12.”

“It’s safer here, you wouldn’t be alone if something happened.”

Ugh, Stu can never resist trying to get me paranoid. “Nothing’s going to happen.” That’s what I thought when I was at Casey’s.

“Just get in bed,” Billy mumbles, half asleep, “I know how this argument goes with the two of you.” When I don’t move, Billy sighs, “If I fall asleep and you get freaked out, I’m not helping.”

Stu lays back down, “He means it. He’s an asshole when he’s tired.” He pauses for so long, I briefly think he might have fallen asleep. “...’S not a big deal.”

True. It wouldn’t even be the first time we all fell asleep in the same bed. And Billy’s slept over in my room enough times for that to barely phase me. “Yeah.”

I walk over towards the bed. “Drink water,” Billy mumbles the words with his eyes still shut. I look over at the nightstand and there’s a glass there that wasn’t there before. I drink a few long sips until Stu sits up to steal the glass from me.

Rude. “Give me--”

He downs the rest of it in a few gulps, “Go to bed.”

I roll my eyes, but unfortunately do listen. Stu pushes me towards the middle, ignoring my surprised huff. I smack his arm before covering myself with his bed sheets. I barely get to reflect on how much of an asshole move that was before I fall asleep.

----

A/n fun fact, there’s a moment in here where Y/n came superrr close to accidentally finding out who Ghostface is :)

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @finnydraws @slytherhoes @vxarak @xofeeeeelsxo @thewayiknowyou @yourslashersfinalgirl @winterridinghood @maggieleighc

#scream #Scream 1996 #scream imagine #scream x reader #Stu Macher #stu macher x reader #Billy Loomis #billy loomis x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #Poly! Ghostface x Reader #poly!ghostface #slasher #slasher x reader #final girl fic

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rhoorl · 9 months

Text

Working Title: Chapter 7

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle

Rating: Mature, 18+, for the love of all things please don’t engage if you are a minor ok?

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Chapter 7 on AO3

Chapter Summary: We find out what Dieter had planned for the afternoon.

Warnings: This chapter has some swearing. I don’t want to spoil anything, but here’s just a blanket “there could be adult stuff happening” warning. There is also a brief mention of body insecurity and a past toxic relationship.

Dieter motions for you to lead the way, his hand again lightly resting on your lower back. You hope he doesn't see the goosebumps that have formed on your arms.

“So, where are we going?” You try and sound nonchalant. “Are you sure I don’t need to change or anything?” motioning to your outfit.

“No, what you’re wearing is fine. I have another idea, but that would require some … changing…maybe next time. You’re good the way you are, more than good.” He looked over to you with a smirk, his eyes giving a hint of something more.

“Oh, so you are assuming there will be a next time?” you tease.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he blushes. “Uh, I- uh, sorry I didn’t me-”

“I’m just messing with you,” you lean into him, your arm brushing against his.

You make it to the front of the resort and see a car pull up. You recognize this as the same one Ari used to pick you up from the airport. The valet parks the car, gets out, and runs around to open the door for you, except Dieter beat him to it.

“Thanks, man,” he opens his hand to collect the keys from the valet. “Hey, here you go.” He fishes out a few bills from his wallet to hand over.

"Thanks, Mr. Bravo," the kid smiled before hustling off to go retrieve the next car.

Dieter turns and opens the door up further for you and guides you, closing the door gently. You could probably count the number of times a man has opened a car door for you with one hand. It wasn’t a gesture you expected, but for some reason having Dieter do it made you feel warm.

This feels nice, right? Like he wants to take care of me. Ok, hold on, you're going a bit overboard. He just opened a fucking door.

While you have this inner debate with yourself, Dieter manages to jog around the front of the car, groaning as he gets into the driver's seat.

“Are you ok?” You ask as he adjusts the seats and the mirrors.

“Nah, yeah it’s just my back, sitting all day isn’t really the best for it.”

“Oh no! Need me to drive? Do you need to get something? Ibuprofen? Icy Hot? A massage?”

Fuuck. I did not mean for that to come out. The intrusive thoughts are really winning right now. Shush.

He turns his head over to you, lowering his chin and arching his eyebrows.

“Why, are you offering?” he teases.

Your eyes bug out slightly and you feel your pulse quicken and your face turn red. Frozen, you're unsure what to say next. You want to flirt back so badly, but you feel…silly. Like, how could this absolutely stunning man be showing interest in you? There has to be something you aren't picking up on.

Moving to face forward, he clears his throat and puts the car in drive. You needed something to do with your hands so you pull your hair out of the clip and start fidgeting with it.

“So, uh, Indy said you two used to play volleyball?”

Thankful that he changed the subject, but you're also annoyed at Indy for giving him the visual of you in volleyball shorts.

“Oh yea, we played a lot when we were younger, all the way through high school. Indy wasn’t able to play our senior year because she got the lead in a play and she was too stressed out,” you recall.

Dieter cautiously weaves his way out of the resort and onto the main road as you tell him stories about playing, fondly reminiscing about all the fun you had on and off the court too.

“Once Indy found out I learned how to braid hair, it was game over,” you chuckle. “I became the designated team braider….I guess, that was when I started doing other people’s hair besides hers.” You smile, looking out the window.

"No offense, but aren't you a little short for volleyball?" He wasn't being snarky, he was legitimately asking. This was a common reaction when people found out you used to play. Indy was tall, so it made sense, but you were a good six inches shorter than her.

“I played libero, so you don’t have to be super tall.”

“Do you still play?”

“It’s been a while, but yea.”

“Volleyball players have those uh…short shorts right?” He gives you a quick glance, keeping his eyes forward and both hands firmly on the wheel.

Are his knuckles turning white?

“Ha yea, well those shorts don’t really fit the way they used to,” you laugh.

He chuckles. “I’ve been trying to be respectful, but from what I've seen I feel like you could still pull them off,” he winks.

You feel your face getting hot, unsure how to even respond to that. You look down and fidget with the hair clip in your lap, letting out a nervous laugh.

“I. Uh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sorry, I’m a little rusty with…flirting.”

“What? No, no. Don’t be sorry!” you reassured him. “Honestly, I am too…rusty. I can’t remember the last time someone flirted with me, so it just threw me off is all.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I figured you got hit on all the time and I was just lame.”

“You? Lame?” you look over and give him a confused look. “You could never be lame.”

He laughs. “Oh I’m a dork, I guess I just hide it well,” he gives a slight wink.

“That’s not a word I would have used for you.”

“What word would you use,” he asks with that low tone he’s used a few times with you.

“Uh. Hmm.” You try and buy yourself some time to try the right word because your mind was going a mile a minute.

Hot. Handsome. Sexy.

“Genuine," whispering it to yourself.

He looks taken aback by that. “Genuine?”

“Y- yeah, you have really kind eyes and… I don't know, you seem like a really genuine guy. I’ve always thought that when I’ve watched your movies and interviews and stuff.”

“That’s…that’s really nice, thank you,” he crinkles his nose and smiles at you.

A silence settles between the two of you. Normally this would make you uncomfortable, wanting to fill in the space with ramblings, but this didn't feel awkward. Swallowing hard, you look over to Dieter who has relaxed his grip on the steering wheel to have just one hand resting at the top. He looks like he's grappling with something.

“For what it’s worth, I … I think you’re pretty genuine too.” He keeps his gaze forward but glances at you every so slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up.

“Thanks,” you smile.

The car lurches to a stop at a red light. You’d been stealing glances at each other for the whole drive, but now he was able to look over at you without fear of driving you both off the road.

He didn’t give you the widest of smiles, it looked like he was thinking of something, but a smile did extend to his eyes. Your heart rate starts to quicken as he moved his right hand, thinking he may be reaching over to grab your hand. But, he just places his hand to rest over the gear shift, his thumb rubbing circles absentmindedly. The move isn't really meant to be suggestive you think, but your mind can't help to wonder how it would feel for him to rub circles on your cl-

Fuck, don't look at his hands don't look at his hands. Don't go there.

Hearing a honk from behind, he snaps out of it. “Oh shit, it’s green,” he chuckles as you return your gaze forward.

Other than the day you arrived, this was the first time you had been outside of the resort. You take the opportunity to look out the window at the lush landscape. There was a reason this was called the Garden Isle, everywhere you looked it was green. You could feel Dieter glancing over at you.

“Beautiful,” he says softly before clearing his throat. “Uh- it’s beautiful right?” Nodding past you towards the scenery outside of your window.

“Yea, it really is. I’m glad I get to finally see some of it…so … where are we going?”

“Don’t you like surprises?”

“I don’t really get them that often,” you laugh.

“Well, you got one last night.”

“Ha true. That was honestly so sweet of you.”

“Ah, I see what you did there…”

“Wha- oh,” you bring your palm to your forehead. “Did not mean for the pun. It was very … nice of you. Thoughtful.”

He preens at the praise.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

“So, you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re going? How do you even know where to go by the way? I thought you hadn't been to this island before.”

“Ok detective,” he snorted, a smirk coming across his face. “No, I haven’t been to this island before. There’s only like one highway, so it’s not that hard to navigate. Plus, I'm great with directions.” He looked over at you, swallowing hard. “Uh, we’re probably like five minutes away.”

You thankfully settle into a more relaxed back and forth for the rest of the drive by asking about each other’s days. The car starts to slow down as he turns left onto a red dirt road. There is a building up ahead with a lot of cars in a parking lot and a sign that you can’t quite make out. Dieter looks over to you conspiratorially with an eyebrow raised to see if you have an idea of what he’s up to. You playfully roll your eyes at him and return your gaze forward. As the sign gets closer you recognize the colors and then you start to see the outline of a shape. A coffee cup? Finally, it comes into view.

“Is this the same coffee we drank this morning?” You perked up realizing it must be some farm or retail space.

Dieter gives you a big smile. “See … I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Yea, that coffee is from a local company and this is their farm.”

You shake your head, furrowing your brows as you look down at the hair clip in your hands. You chuckle to yourself. It was as if he was trying to find ways to make you smile.

Again with something thoughtful.

“What? Is this lame? Sorry…I thou-” He ruffles his hair and finds a parking spot. Once parked, he turns his body to look at you with his puppy dog eyes.

“Wha- no! Oh my goodness, no!” Wanting to reassure him you lean over and grab his bicep, giving it a slight squeeze. “This … this is so nice! I uh-”

You feel a wave of simultaneous emotions, it’s overwhelming. On the one hand, you feel giddy. It makes you feel special that he thought of something you might like, something small you both share. And that he made the effort to bring you here. But all of that care and attention made you uncomfortable. These kinds of sweet gestures – from surprise gifts to opening the car door – happened to people like Indy, not you.

Your mind goes to Ryan and the years you spent being a second thought. The time away from him, and your sessions with Carla, made you finally come to grips with how little he valued and cared for you. You had internalized this notion of being unworthy so deep into your being. Unworthy of kindness, unworthy of care…unworthy of love. Even though it had been weeks since you finally ended things, these feelings were still so fresh and right at the surface.

Fidgeting with the hair clip in your hand, you can feel yourself starting to tear up, a common reaction when you feel frustrated or overwhelmed.

“Hey, I- shit. l…" Dieter rubs his hand over his face. "I thought that you liked the coffee so much and since you drink it black you can really taste the flavor and they have a fuck ton of flavors here and maybe we can grab a few bags to take back to the hotel so we can have it in the mornings.” Dieter rambles, trying to search your eyes to see how you’re feeling. You could tell he wanted to reach over and comfort you, but he was trying to give you space.

You chastised yourself as a rogue tear fell down your cheek.

“Shit, I - I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Seeing you cry snaps something in him. He leans over to bring his hand to cup the back of your head lightly scratching your scalp, trying to soothe you. Looking up you see his puppy dog eyes working overtime as he looks at you.

“No, shit, I’m sorry” you sniffle and shift more toward him, reluctantly making eye contact.

He was so desperately trying to search your face for what he did wrong and how to fix it. He moves his other hand to cup your face, wiping the tear that had fallen with his thumb. As if almost by instinct, you lean into his touch. He was calming you down. You both stayed like this for a few moments while you kept your eyes closed, trying to breathe and collect yourself.

“Fuck. I’m really sorry,” you finally muster. Sitting back in your seat, you pull down the sun visor to see how red your face is. “Th- this was so sweet, honestly Dieter, thank you. I still want to go in, if that’s ok?”

Furrowing his brows, he gives your thigh a little squeeze. “Yea, whatever you want to do sweetheart.”

You give him a little smile. “I feel like I should explain or someth-”

“No, you don’t. I mean, if you want to I’m all ears, but don’t feel like you have to explain anything to me. We can sit here for as long as you want, or leave. It’s up to you..” He gives you a lopsided smile.

You give yourself one last glance in the mirror. “Ok, let’s go.”

“Yea? Are you sure?"

"Yea. Let's do it." You open the door, grab your bag and step out of the car.

You didn't realize that he had taken this time to get out of the car and come over to you, reaching you as you close the door. He's close and his eyes rake over your face.

"Hey, come here," he opens his arms up for a hug.

You close the distance, reaching your arms around his midsection and flattening your hands on his midback, giving a slight squeeze.

His arms come around your shoulders before he moves one of his hands up to cup the back of your neck, giving you a quick kiss on the top of your head. You took in what felt like your first deep breath in minutes, relaxing into the embrace.

"Are you sure you're good? We can leave and head back, I won't mind. Whatever you want to do." You can feel his lips on your hair as he speaks. He gives you one last kiss on the head before pulling back to look at you.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you smile.

"Ok sweetheart, let's go," he keeps one arm on your shoulder as he leads the way to the building that you assume is some sort of gift shop.

"Thank you," you look up at him as you walk up the stairs to the entrance.

"For what?"

"Just…just being here." You pull away to face him. He furrows his brows, confused. "I know you said I don't have to explain, and I don't really want to right now," you gesture around. This wasn't a conversation to have in public. "But I do want to … to explain at some point."

"You take whatever time you need, I'm here," he smiles, reaching over to give you a side hug as he opens to door to the gift shop.

You walk into a retail space seeing a bunch of merchandise ranging from T-shirts and coffee mugs to cookbooks. The smell of coffee hits your nostrils as you walk in. When you were younger you hated the smell and taste of coffee, but as an adult, you’ve grown to appreciate it.

"It smells so fucking good in here." Dieter looks around spotting a wall of coffee bags. "Ooo over here." He grabs your hand and leads you over.

You look down, trying to confirm that your hand is actually enveloped in Dieter's. He readjusted so your fingers were intertwined and you feel a warmth cascade over your body. You felt safe.

Snapping out of it, you look at the wall of coffee as you both stop in front of it. He wasn't kidding, there were a ton of flavors. Still holding your hand, he starts to read off the different flavors.

"Hi there, do you want to sample any?" A young man with a name tag comes up.

"Oh, oh yeah. Want to?" Dieter looks over at you.

"Yea, that would be great!"

"Awesome, well we have our tasting bar set up outside. There's also more information about the farm out there too." The young man gestures to another door.

"Cool, thanks."

Dieter leads the two of you outside.

The next several minutes are spent sampling all of the different coffee flavors. You both come up with a little game where one of you tried a sample and attempted to guess if the other would like it or not.

You realize that while Dieter appreciated the different flavors, he was more of a fan of simple roasts, particularly the dark roasts. You, on the other hand, were reveling in unique flavors like coconut caramel crunch and vanilla macadamia nut.

When you both had your fill of the samples you head back inside to gaze at the coffee bags to choose what would be coming back to the resort. You had been a bit oblivious to this earlier, but as you head inside the gift shop you start to notice eyes on the two of you and people whispering.

You could count on one hand the number of times you had been out with Indy and she got recognized. But you can't begin to imagine what it must be like for Dieter to go anywhere in public. Looking over at him, he seems unaware of the sudden interest his presence is commanding from the other patrons.

"So, which ones should we get?" He gestures to the wall in front of you.

"Hmm…it's hard to decide, they were all so good. What about this one and that one?" You pointed to two of the varieties Dieter had gushed about outside.

"Ok and what else?"

"What do you mean what else. How much coffee are you trying to get?" You chuckle, looking over at him.

"Well, these two are the ones I liked. What about the ones you liked?" He leans in, smirking as he whispers, "I'm planning on drinking a lot of coffee. And hopefully, most of it is with you."

Your nerves come back again. "I, uh. Well, I'd hate to make you drink something you weren't a big fan of. We can get these bags," pointing to the original two you grabbed.

"Belle," he turns and lightly touched your arm. "Pick what you like. It's not like I was gagging at any of these. Sure there are some I prefer over others, but I'll drink whatever."

"Ok," you concede, grabbing one additional bag.

He gives you a side eye and tells you to pick another, so you do it. You both head over with your bags in tow to check out.

Dieter sets his bags down and then grabs the two from your hands to place them in front of the cashier, who is eyeing him like they're trying to place him.

"Wha- what're doing? I can buy those."

"No, I brought you here, it's my treat."

“Dieter, you don't have to do that."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him whispering in your ear, "I want to. So leave it."

"Well, thank you.*

“You're welcome sweetheart," he moves to give another kiss on the top of your head, looking back at the cashier with a smile. You feel an electric pulse down your spine.

"Hey, aren't you that guy fr-" the cashier starts to ask as Dieter signs the receipt.

"Ha yea, that's me!"

He spends the next couple of minutes talking with the cashier who was gushing about what a big fan they were. Dieter gives them his full attention and smiles and laughs as they chat. In the end, he asks if they want a picture.

"Oh yes, that would be awesome. Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your date more than I already have."

"It's ok, here let's take a picture." He releases the arm from around your shoulder and heads around the counter as the cashier grabs their phone and frantically tries to unlock it. You hadn't realized how accustomed you had gotten to feeling Dieter's arm on you or having his body so close. You miss the warmth immediately.

"Thank you," the cashier says after Dieter snaps a couple of selfies, checking to make sure they looked ok before handing the phone back. "Have a great day and come see us again!"

"Thank you!" You both said in unison as you walked out of the shop.

As you make your way back to the car, he reaches for your hand. It feels so instinctive and comfortable like you have been doing this for years with each other.

He opens the car door for you again, handing you the shopping bag so you can put it on the floor at your feet. Once he gets back in and starts the car he looks over to you. "I know we had a little rough start to the visit, but I hope you had fun?"

"Wha- Ah I'm … I had fun! This was a great idea Dieter, thank you." You genuinely had fun once you settled in. "This was honestly…between the cookies and this? This was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

He smiles and reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

"Good, I'm glad." He glanced at the clock. "I know it may be a little early, but are you hungry? Want to grab dinner?"

"Yea, I'd like that."

Dieter had a recommendation from Danny, so he pulled up the address on his phone to navigate there.

On the way you both settle into conversation, talking about things you want to do and see on the island during your time there. You don't even remember when he did this, but at one point you look down to see his hand resting on your thigh, his thumb drawing small, light circles.

You can tell by the GPS you're close, getting excited as you see him turning toward the ocean.

"Looks like this is it," he gestures to a small hut-like building with an amazing view of the ocean. "According to Danny, this spot has awesome seafood. Shit, do you like seafood? You aren't allergic, are you? I should have asked instead of assum-"

"Hey," you grab the hand resting on your thigh."I love seafood, it's one of my favorites."

"Oh…oh yea, duh…I knew that."

You furrow your brows and look at him. "How? I haven't told you that."

"Oh, ah," he rubs the back of his neck with his left hand. "I, uh, I may have asked Indy what kind of food you liked."

"Aw, that's sweet of you. You could have just asked me, you know," you chuckled.

"I know, but I wanted to … surprise you." He offered with a sheepish grin.

Now it was your turn to give his hand a little squeeze.

You head inside, grabbing a small table outside with an amazing unobstructed view of the ocean.

After you place your orders and the server takes your menus, you prop one elbow on the table and rest your head in your hand, closing your eyes, and taking a deep breath. You smell the ocean and hear the relaxing sound of the waves.

"Are you ok?" Dieter asks with a slight tinge of concern in his voice.

Your eyes blink open. "Oh, yea. I'm just really…content?"

"Is that a question?" He laughs.

"Ha, no. I guess I don't know the word for it. Just happy I suppose," crinkling your nose and looking down at your hands.

"If it helps, I'm very…content too." He puts both forearms on the table, leaning forward slightly. He reaches his hand for yours, his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your joined hands. A small smile comes across his face.

"Excuse me," you hear a Southern drawl snap you out of your little moment. "I am such a big fan, can I get a selfie with you, hun?'

Your turn to see a woman probably your mom's age beaming at Dieter. She was holding out her phone.

Giving a charming smile he says yes, even helping her figure out how to get her camera open before he takes the photo himself.

"You are such a doll, and even more handsome in person. You're a lucky lady," she looked at me with a smirk.

"I, we're not-"

"I'm the lucky one," he cuts you off, smiling up at her.

"Well, you're both adorable. Thank you, sweetie. Didn't mean to interrupt."

Dieter watches her leave over his shoulder and then looks back at you. You have a quizzical look on your face.

"What?"

"Nothing…" you clear your throat. "Does that ever get annoying?"

"Um, I don't know if annoying is the right word…" he says looking down and fidgeting his hands. "Normally I'm fine with it. Actually, it's pretty cool to have people like my work. And, if I can help make someone's day brighter then that makes me feel good," he steals a glance at you with a smile. "Sometimes in situations like this," he gestures between the two of you, "or when I'm with my family it can get a little tiresome because I'm just trying to exist like a normal person."

You reach over and squeeze his hand.

"Well, you looked really gracious and I'm sure you made her day, hell probably her year with the way she was looking at you," you laugh.

The rest of your dinner goes by without incident, both of you easily talking for what felt like hours. Your inadvertent yawn is what spurns Dieter to ask for the check.

On the way back to the car you complimented the choice of restaurant. "That food was amazing! You'll have to tell Danny it gets five out of five stars in my book."

"Ha, well maybe you can tell him tomorrow yourself. Are you excited to get started with the shoot?"

"Yea. I feel like it's been a lot of set up and I just want to dive in, ya know?"

"Ha, yea."

The drive back was relaxed, both of you quietly thinking to yourselves. Between the food you ate and the gentle rocking of the car, you can feel your eyes getting heavy.

"Belle, hey sweetheart we're here," you hear Dieter say as he rubs your arm.

You aren't sure where you are as you start to blink your eyes open, the first thing you see is Dieter leaning over to you, coaxing you awake.

“Did I fall asleep?”

He nodded.

You bring your hands to your face, shaking your head. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry that is so embarrassing.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed it was cute. And no, you didn’t snore or anything like that. Even if you did, it would have been ok,” he says with a smile.

The valet opens your door and you step outside, Dieter meets you around the car and takes the shopping bag from you as you head upstairs.

As the elevator opens to your floor, nerves flood over you. You make it to Dieter's room first and you both stop. He turns to look at you, his eyes bouncing down to your lips and back. His hand rubs down your arm, closing the distance between you.

"Belle, can I-"

You hear the ding of the elevator and pull back from each other.

Indy and Sam spill out of the elevator, clearly in the middle of a heavy make-out session that will inevitably end up in one of their rooms, most likely Sam's since it is closer.

Dieter clears his throat loudly, giving you a side eye and a smirk. Indy and Sam pull away from each other abruptly, not realizing they had an audience.

"Oh…oh hey…Belle…Dieter!" She waves, trying to catch her breath.

"Hey, Indy! Hi, Sam!" You call back waving, trying to suppress your smirk.

Sam gives a little wave and tries to hide behind Indy, but you already clocked the bulge in his shorts.

Shit, no wonder she is losing her mind over this guy.

"Don't let us interrupt you, you all have a good night," Dieter calls over to them with a wave.

Sam seems thankful for a way out and turns on his heel to open the door to his room. Indy hurries behind him but gives you a devilish grin.

Looking back at you, Dieter smirks. "Well, I guess we know where they'll be the rest of the night."

You look from his eyes down to his lips, suddenly feeling nervous again. You want to kiss him, hell you want to do more than that. But your emotions from earlier were still very much at the surface, and it bubbles up other memories you didn't want to deal with right now.

"Belle?" Dieter snaps you back to reality. He's giving you those eyes again. He swallows hard and you can't help but track his Adam's apple as it bobs up and down. "C-can I kiss you?" He said it with such earnestness, but also a darkness behind his eyes.

"Uh, y-yea."

Your mouth moved before your brain could. You felt like you were on a rollercoaster that was reaching its first big drop, scared about what was over the crest, but wanting the thrill.

"Yea?"

You nod and he drops the bag with the coffee to the ground and slowly closes the gap between you. He brings one hand up to cup your face, the other resting on your waist. He angles his head down slightly, as you bring your hands up to rest on his chest as he finally makes contact with your lips.

His kiss is soft like he's still asking for permission. You kiss him back with a bit more fervor which gives him the cue he needs. His hand snakes its way to the back of your head pulling you in deeper. You slink one of your hands up to the back of his neck, raking the curls at the end of his hair and then lightly scratching his scalp. You can tell he likes that when he gives a small moan into your mouth.

He walks you back, moving the arm at your waist and extending it so he can feel where the wall is. He has you caged in and is pushing himself closer to you. You can feel him getting hard, which in turn fuels the fire starting to simmer in your core.

He tests his limits with his tongue, trying to gauge your receptiveness as he explores your mouth. You couldn't help the whimper that came out of you, which only made him crash into you harder.

"I've been dying to hear that sound again baby," he says as he trails kisses down your neck and back up.

You moved your other hand from his chest to cup his face, scratching his stubble and imagining it would feel like on other parts of your body.

You don't know how long you stay making out, content with being close to him. He works his way from your mouth to your jaw and down your neck, giving you little nips before coming back to your mouth. Every once in a while he'd slow down and lightly bite your bottom lip.

His hand moved to trace down your body. His palm splayed out so he lightly touched the outside of your breast as he made his way down and around your waist and cupped your ass, which elicited moans from both of you.

You wanted more, but just not right now. You needed to stop before your head got in the way and ruined things. His hand starts to inch its way up from the bottom hem of your shirt. Suddenly aware that he's getting closer to feeling or seeing more of your body you pull back, catching your breath for the first time since this all started.

He pulls back to see your face, but you cast your eyes downward. The hand that was entwined in your hair makes its way to your chin as he tilts your face upward. You both take each other in before he rests his forehead against yours.

"Was that ok?" He finally breaks the silence.

Finally getting your breath under control you manage a "yes."

"Yea?"

"Th- that was probably the best first kiss I've ever had. No, it was. That was the best first kiss I've ever had," you looked up at him through your eyelashes, biting your lower lip and nervously giggling at your honest admission.

You hadn't kissed that many people in your life, certainly not as many as Dieter. But even with a smaller pool to compare it to, you just knew that the last several moments had ruined anyone else for you for the rest of your life.

He brings both of his hands to cup your face so you can continue to look at him. "I can, without a doubt, say the same thing." He kisses you on your forehead. "And I'd like to do it again."

You smile. He's shown you nothing but kindness and sincerity, yet you still can't bring yourself to believe him. But, you kiss him back opting for actions over words right now.

"D-do you want to come in?" You feel him smile against your neck.

Pulling back, the nerves start bubbling up. "Uh, I'm uh I…"

"Shh it's ok," he rests his hands along your arm, giving small, comforting circles as you look down. "Hey, sorry. I…uh…I didn't mean to assume. C-can you look at me?" He whispered.

You look up at him and he's looking down at you with such reverence.

"Listen, I … I obviously want you," he chuckles, looking down at your body and rubbing his hands up and down your arms. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable. And if tonight ends right here then I'm more than fine with that. I feel lucky I was able to get a kiss…I've been wanting to kiss you si- … well, for a while. And I'm so fucking happy you let me."

You bring your arms around his neck, and he takes that as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, settling into an embrace.

"Yea? This is ok?"

"Of course, baby," he said with a low voice, kissing you chastely on the lips.

You smile as he brings his forehead to yours, taking time to close your eyes and breathe, staying present in the moment.

"Thank you for today.”

"We should uh- we should find something to do tomorrow."

"We have to work tomorrow," you giggle, pulling back to look at him and bringing your hands down to rest on his chest.

"Ha, right, yes we have work. What time do you have to be there?"

"My call time is 5 a.m. to get everything prepped. When’s yours?"

"Uh, I think it's like 8."

"How many scenes do you have to shoot?"

"Just two I think, so shouldn't be too long of a day. Want to have coffee in the morning before you head down? Danny got me some insulated mugs so you could take one with you."

"What? That would be so early for you."

"Well, for one, I'll most likely already be up," he rubs the back of his neck. "And two, I…I can't think of a better way to start the day." He gives a small lopsided grin, a dimple showing.

You shake your head, eyes cast down. "I'm sure sleeping in is a better way to start your day."

"But I want to see you," his voice is suddenly small, the most vulnerable you've heard it.

"Ok…I'll come over at like…4:30?"

"Yea, that sounds good," he says as he gives you one last kiss which then moves into another and another.

You finally move away from each other, trying to catch your respective breaths. He gathers both of your hands in his, squeezing them before bringing them to his lips for a kiss.

"I…I’ll see you in the morning."

"Yea…sounds good," he smiles.

You make it to your door and steal a glance over before inserting your room key to unlock it. When you look, you realize that Dieter had been watching you, leaning against the wall, waiting for you to get into your room safely.

You give a little wave and head inside. Once the door closes, you lean with your back against it and take in what just happened.

Holy shit, I just made out with Dieter Bravo in a hotel hallway. After he took me out on a…date? It was a date, right?

It was late, but you needed to try and get some sleep, otherwise, tomorrow was going to be rough. You rush through your night routine not realizing it was done with a smile on your face.

As you settle into bed, you triple-check that all of your alarms are set and you put your phone on the charger. When you're finally settled in bed, your phone dings. You roll over to look, assuming it was Indy telling you not to wait up. You smile when you unlock your phone and see a text from Dieter.

DIETER: Sweet dreams, Belle. I’ll see you soon.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: This is probably the chapter I tinkered with the most so far, so I hope you like where it landed. Fun fact - the coffee place (and the cookies) are actually real companies. I’m thinking of doing a post at some point showing off all of the little references (once we visit a few more places).

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the kind comments and reblogs and likes this little story gets! Thanks for going on this little journey with me. Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #working title fic #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you

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fractiflos · 7 months

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Okay, for months I have had so many fic ideas revolving around the first three holders, I've decided to put them all down here for the Three Weeks of Trioholders Event hosted by @aimportantdragoncollector, to help inspire others. Feel free to use these for the event or any future fics (or drawings), since I don't think I'll have time to write them (and I didn't want to overwhelm the ask game lol).

Cheerleader bet: The first 3 holders make a bet; losers have to wear a female cheerleader outfit. I like the idea of Yoichi winning, so he gets to see Second and Third in cheer skirts waving pompoms, but this is your fic (or art)

An AU where Yoichi works as a nurse and Second lands himself in the hospital with a gunshot wound

The 2nd and 3rd are scientific rivals forced to work together by the government to oversee the creation of an important new technology

Ichinii kindergarten AU: Second and Third love pretending to be knights and rescuing people, but Second hates having to rescue princesses because "She's not pretty enough to be a princess" until one day, Yoichi Shigaraki transfers to their school and volunteers to let them rescue him, but wants to pretend to be a princess, much to the amusement of the other boys. Oddly enough, Second has no complaints about this princess.

Deku and Bakugou's uncles both come on the same day to pick them up from preschool, bump into each other, and would you look at that Second, love at first sight is real after all. Meanwhile, Yoichi just thinks of him as a friend at first.

Deku and Todoroki are studying together, when his Uncle Yoichi walks in, with his two best friends, Second and Third, along with his cousin Hikage. Naturally, Todoroki sees the green eyes and pale hair, and immediately thinks that Hikage is Yoichi's secret lovechild. All that's left to do is figure out who's the father, Second or Third? Meanwhile, AFO catches wind that Yoichi has a secret lovechild, and assumes that the father must be All Might. (I left a lot of details out, but it's fun to see what people fill in. I submitted this as an ask, but I was super tired, so it ended up being barebones and I hated it, so I'm rewriting it here)

A modern AU where AFO has been secretly scaring off all of Yoichi's boyfriends. It's actually pretty easy as even without his quirk, he's still terrifying. Then one day, Yoichi brings a certain spiky-haired man home, and not only does he look like the rebel bad boy from every father's nightmare (very different from the previous nerdy cowards Yoichi's dated before), but none of his previous tricks can drive him off.

Genderbend! I guess this is more geared for art, but hey, who's to say our first three holders aren't unlucky enough to be hit with a genderbend quirk while out on patrol

Angel and Devil! Yoichi is an angel, the brother of the Big Guy himself (Yep, AFO gets to be God). Tired of the rules of heaven, he sneaks into hell, where he meets a pair of very interesting (read: hot) demons.

OR REVERSE: Angels, Second and Third are tired of following the overly strict rules of heaven and sneak into hell, which is ruled by Demon King All For One. There, they meet a rather attractive white-haired demon...

After a terrible incident with some hair dye, and a friend who is now on very thin ice, Second's pink hair has now been turned into a really ugly shade of orange, and he has a date in less than 48 hours (I refuse to get over his hair color)

College AU: Second and Third have been friends since they were in diapers, and are now getting physics degrees. One day, Third decides to introduce his childhood best friend to the new friend he made in art club, Yoichi Shigaraki. Then ends up having to Third-wheel as they spend the whole-time flirting

Romeo & Juliet AU. This time, it's Second & Yoichi. I mean, they're both star-crossed lovers doomed by the narrative to die, so why not?

Victorian Era! Yoichi is secretly in love with his servant(s), but is engaged to marry someone else

Second is a horror writer with writer's block. When his apartment lease is up, he decides to finally buy a house out in the countryside, thinking the nearby spooky woods will inspire him. The house tends to inspire him more, what with the random oozing, slow opening of doors, and breezes that sound like whispers. It's almost as if he's really haunted...

Yoichi is in college now and away from his strict brother. He decides to go with his roommate to a party, but his sheltered upbringing has left him woefully underprepared for the wildness of a college party and... Has he been drugged? Don't worry Yoichi, your heroes have come to save you!

Baby Izuku Midoriya is babysat by his uncles! So, while they do all sorts of fun baby things that somehow turn out to be extremely dangerous, Hisashi has a nice dinner with Inko.

Done! I hope I've managed to inspire someone.

#Three Weeks of Trioholders #yoichi shigaraki #mha #second one for all holder #second one for all user #third one for all holder #third one for all user #duoholders #trioholders #jane's fic ideas

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an-otterly-adorable-being · 8 months

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Freckle&Ivy x Poly!Reader Headcanons

My first shot at headcanons, and I had to pick something I have no personal experience with. Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

• You saw Freckle and Ivy dancing one night at the Lackadaisy, and boy were you starstruck.

• Two beautiful people who are seemingly opposites, yet are still lovey dovey? Yes please!

• Is what was most likely thought in your head.

• Of course, having multiple partners at once isn't exactly mainstream, so you settle with approaching them and, at the very least, befriending them.

• Guess what, the feelings didn't go away, in fact they multiplied.

• Eventually, after a while you work up the courage to talk to Freckle and Ivy.

• Soooooo, pitching the idea to them was a hassle.

• You wanted to take it slower with the explanation of what you were asking, but you kept tripping over your words.

• Eventually you ended up just, spitting it out, a decision you immediately regretted.

• Curiously, though, Ivy and Freckle were...cool with it?

• Granted, some of it had to deal with Ivy thinking it'd be an interesting idea, and Freckle being a people pleaser, but you got to take victories where you can find them, y'know?

• The three of you decided to go for it, and boom, poly couple.

• Unfortunately, no matter which way you identify, you'll have to hide the affection for them.

• The 1920s had lots of cool beer and neat criminals, but folks weren't exactly accepting of anything out of the norm, and Freckle and Ivy were already an established couple.

• Don't worry though, that just means you get extra love in private!

• Well, as in private you can get, that is.

• Private time is short, having to fit between Ivy's college classes and y'all's work at the Lackadaisy.

• Because yeah, you probably landed a job over there, either because you wanted the job, or because they desperately need supervision.

• Bonus perks if you're good with a needle and thread, because Ivy needs someone to fix her clothes up, and Freckle needs someone to fix his cousin up.

• Speaking of Rocky, he's not really suprised when he finds out.

• Man's been traveling the country, he's encountered lots of stuff like this.

• Actually, a lot of the Lackadaisy members are atleast fine with the idea of the three of you together.

• I mean, speakeasies were the place for people and relationships who didn't conform after all.

• And that means you can be all lovey dovey with them at the Lackadaisy with only the odd stares of new patrons.

• Of course you do have one-on-one dates, especially when either Freckle or Ivy are busy.

• Ivy will take you out shopping and just generally hanging out around town.

• Whether you're fem or masc, she'll get you the perfect outfit.

• Just know, you'll be carrying the stuff, and Freckle's aching arms are ever so grateful for your sacrifice.

• Late night study dates at either her dorm or a local library (depending on gender) are also pretty common, especially when finals roll around.

• She also likes when she can take a break from the work to sneak off somewhere private where you two can be all cuddly.

• As for Freckle, he mainly just goes with what you want to do.

• Want to head out and see a play? Freckle'll come along too. Spend some time just fixing things and cleaning? Freckle loves that? Recover after Rocky convinced you to do something stupid? Trust me, he's been there, and he's right there next to you.

• That's not to say he's completely hobbyless, he'll take you out to baseball games and parks when he's feeling confident.

• Freckle will stay away from anything too high energy though.

• He doesn't want to show off his more... psychotic side.

• He'll invite you over to his house however.

• As a friend, of course.

• You are about 70% sure that Nina knows, though, but doesn't say anything to keep Freckle happy.

• All in all, you three make things work, even with the weirdness of the situation.

• Oh and by the way, I hope you don't mind not having both of your hands when you're alone with them.

• Odds are the one of, if not both of them, will be holding your hands throughout the day.

• But hey, who needs hands when you've got a kick-ass girlfriend and a shy, unstable boyfriend?

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy headcanons #lackadaisy ivy #lackadaisy freckle #calvin mcmurray #ivy pepper #freckle mcmurray #headcanon #polyamory #or my best attempt at it #i

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blusapphire · 1 year

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Play me a memory (Billy Russo x Reader) - Chapter 1

Summary: When you first met Billy Russo, you fell for him hard and fast. Being with him was like a dream, You were perfect for each other, or so you thought.

You return home one night to find all traces of him gone. You’re left heartbroken… and with a life changing surprise. Years later, you find yourself in a predicament when you unexpectedly find your way back into each other’s lives.

Notes: The first chapter is finally up! Please let me know what you guys think!

Series Masterlist

…

When you were a child, You thought you had an idea of how your future would turn out. In your mind, you believed there were paths people could choose to follow that would decide their future. And You decided a long time ago, that you would follow the perfect one. You had a map in your head with your whole life planned out. Every direction you would follow, all the places you would visit, people you would meet, your dream job; Everything was set in stone.

But of course, nothing is set in stone.

One night, tragedy struck, driving a knife through your dreamlike fantasies, altering your future forever, forcing you to take a different path in life.

That horrific night that plagued your memories and left you scared forever.

Needless to say, Your life did not go according to plan. It rarely ever did for anyone.

Not that you hated how your life turned out.

No, it wasn’t that at all.

Sure, It didn’t go accordingly, but there were moments you couldn’t have imagined going any other way, and people you wouldn’t trade for the world. It wasn’t on your map, but you we’re happy.

The gentle rain lightly tapped your bedroom window of your New York City apartment, the cool air fogging up the windows, as the raindrops fell from the grey tinted clouds. You go through the different outfits in your closet, looking for a weather appropriate color, as you hear a a knock on your door.

You yell for the person on the other side to come in, and a head pokes through the door.

“Hey, y/n, uh…“she muttered, “she won’t come out of her room again.”

You heaved a sigh, as you closed your eyes, bowing your head in constraint. You turn towards your best friend, as you prepare to utter the question that has long become a routine between the two of you,

“Is it a color situation again?”

She replies with a single nod, followed by a tight knit smile. “I mean, it is effective though. Sometimes I think about hiring her as my personal stylist.”

You reply with a light laugh, as you move towards her, “I got it,”

“You always do,” she smiles as you breeze past her, heading into the hallway, toward your daughter’s bedroom.

You walk in and stand by the door, and find her rummaging through her drawer, you guessed looking for something that she couldn’t find.

This wasn’t something that was out of the ordinary in your home. It actually happened a lot more than you would like, much to your dismay. You tried to get her to pick out her clothes the night before, which actually did work, but one morning she would decide that she wasn’t satisfied with what she had chosen, and insist that she pick out a totally different outfit.

Which wasn’t a problem; it only caused you to fall 15 minutes behind schedule.

“Alright Ava, I’m here,” you say as you place your hands on your hips, in a superhero stance, “What’s the super special piece missing from your look today?”

Your daughter turns to acknowledge you, with a look on her face that tells you she knew you would be there, as she holds up a blue item in her hand.

“I can’t find my purple one,” she gestures to the blue headband in her hand, “the one Betts got for me last Christmas,” she tosses the item on her bed, as she returns to rummaging through her drawer.

“Well, I see some blue in this outfit,” you point towards her multi colored dress, walking over to pick up the blue accessory, “I happen to think it goes really well with this dress.”

“Mom,” she turns and looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “I can’t wear purple shoes and a blue headband,” holding out her arms for emphasis, “ they just don’t go together!”

“What’s wrong with the outfit you picked out last night?”

“Mom, I had a burst of inspiration this morning,” she replied in an obvious tone, “I can’t just ignore it.”

“What if you just wore a black one?”

“That would be too many colors in one outfit!”

You chuckled at your daughter’s reply, moving in to help her tidy up her now messy room, picking up clothing from the floor, and putting things away in the correct drawer. Sometimes, you thought your daughter was a little too smart for her age. Or that maybe her brain was actually that of a teenager trapped in a younger person’s body, the way she was so passionate and strong minded about her decisions. You doubted that a bunch of second graders would care about their classmates appearances, or their own, for that matter. And if this was her at age seven, you wondered what she would be like when she was an actual teenager.

Boy, were you in for a ride.

“Well, you might just have to go with one of the two,” you admit as poke around helping her look, “because I need to drop you off at school and get to work and we’ll have to take the train today while my car’s being repaired at the shop and we only have a few minutes to spa-“

Your interrupted by the buzzing of your phone, signaling that you just got a text. You fish out your phone from your back pocket and look down at your screen, quickly skimming over the text.

“Hey, are you free for dinner Saturday night, at 8?”- Nick

You gaze at your phone in guilt, at the text from a man that you had ghosted after no more than two dates. You open your phone to reply, different excuses in mind, all which you end up erasing, when your pulled out of your trance by your daughter shouting something in the background.

“ Found it!” She excitedly yelled as she placed the recovered accessory over her head.

“Great,” You both walk out into the hallway, towards the kitchen, as you bring your phone back out to check the time. “We only have ten minutes to spare, and I still have to get dressed and make you breakfas-

“Breakfast is all done.”

You turn towards Jazmine, as she brings over a plate full of food over to Ava, the young girl impressed with the smiley face of fruit and whipped cream decorating her pancakes.

“Jaz,” you let out a sigh of relief, “What would I ever do without you?”

“ mm, I guess we’ll never know,” she jokes as she gives a playful shrug.

Jaz was a godsend. You had first met in high school, and had been inseparable ever since. You went to the same college together, got your first ever jobs together, and the list goes on. After college, you two got this apartment together, and the rest was history. She was there for you in your darkest moments, even when you were far from deserving, no matter how ugly things got. She practically helped you raise Ava and if not, was like a second mother to her. After Ava came, you tried your best to convince her that she was your responsibility and your responsibility alone, but Jaz did everything she could to pitch in and help raise Ava, much to your avail.

You stood back and watched as Jaz and Ava had a very intriguing debate about wether or not cupcakes should be served after every daily meal, of which Ava was winning, biting back a smile.

It was the three of you against the world. Your own little family. And no, it wasn’t on your map at all, but you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

…

You adjust your bag on your shoulder, as you try to keep your balance holding on to the pole in the middle of the train cart, looking around at sleepy faces and those who had already their morning coffee. You had already dropped Ava off at school two stops before, and had to get back on to get to work. You hop off the train after a few stops, walking up the slippery steps, the subways wet and dirtier than usual, with the rain that had been at it all morning. You contemplated taking the bus the rest of the way, but decided walking a few blocks wouldn’t hurt. Usually you had your car, and didn’t have to worry much about the Nyc transit, but It needed to be repaired, and wasn’t available for pickup until this afternoon.

You close your wet umbrella, as you walk through the turnstile doors of Wilburne industries, greeting the security and staff good morning, before walking toward the elevators.

Wilburne Industries.

You had got a job at the multi- million dollar company a few years after college, After you had Ava, and had worked your butt off to get to be one of Wilburne’s top employee’s, earning you your very own office. When you first got here, you weren’t very qualified, previously being employed at a small tech company, but your boss, and founder of Wilburne Industries, Harrison Wilburne, had taken a chance on you.

Sometimes you still couldn’t believe you worked there.

You step off the elevator, onto the 23rd floor of the building, the heated floor warming up your freezing hands from the cold rain. You shovel through your bag for your office keys and greet friendly faces that bid you good morning. You unlock your office door and set your stuff down, remembering that you forgot to stop for coffee on the the way to work, due to Ava’s fashion dilemma this morning.

You walk over to the coffee machine around the corner and grab your company designed mug, and begin making your normal roast, when your pulled out of your action by someone calling your name from afar.

“Y/n, hey!,” the man wearing a tie calls, as he jogs over to the coffee station, phone in hand.

You look over and grimace, before quickly turning back around, hoping he didn’t see you complete the action.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself.

He approaches you, out of breath, a smile across his face.

“Hey, y/n, did you, uh, get my text this morning?”

“Nick, hey,” you dragged out the last word as you turned to face him.

You liked Nick. He wasn’t a bad person. He was actually perfect. He had Perfect hair, a perfect smile. He spent his summer reading to elementary schoolers, despite his busy schedule, and he was a gentleman.

So it wouldn’t make sense to the average person why you had ghosted him after two dates.

You had a really good time on those two dates, but you didn’t see it going too far. You didn’t want to have the “it’s not you, it’s me,” conversation, but it was true.

It really was you not him.

It was hard to date while raising a child alone, and you wouldn’t be able to juggle work, a child and dating until you were ready. You didn’t know how to break it to him, not really one for awkward conversations, so you ghosted him, far from what he deserved, and avoided him all throughout the the office for weeks. It was actually a miracle how long you had gone without running into him.

“Yeah,… I did but i actually didn’t get a chance to respond,” you say as you anxiously pour the coffee into your mug, eager to get back to your office and out of the current conversation, “But I’ll have to check my schedule and get back to you.”

“Well, how bout lunch this afternoon?”

“Uh, I actually have to pick up my car from the repair shop this afternoon, and pick my daughter up from school too so,” you give him an apologetic smile as you attempt to walk away, “it’s a really busy day but-

“Ms. L/N, Mr Wilburne is requesting to speak to you in his office.”

“Sorry,” You give him an apologetic smile, as you begin walk away, grateful to be saved from uncomfortable situation, “I have to go, but I’ll see you later,” and you walk away before he can speak another word.

…

You knock on the door of your boss’s office, and he yells for you to come in. He looks up from his computer, expectant to see you, with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Y/n, please, come in!,” he gestures to the seat in front of his desk opposite of him, prompting you to sit down, which you do.

“So, I’m sure you remember the security breach we had a few weeks ago.”

“Yes sir, I remember.”

It was three weeks ago, to be exact. A group of thieves had gotten past the company’s very complicated software, by hacking into the company’s computers, and broken into the building despite the constant security surrounding the building at all times, attempting to steal god knows what. It had become a five hour hostage situation, and some hostages ended up getting injured. You weren’t there at the time, thankfully, having left early because you got a call from Ava’s school that she hadn’t been feeling well. They somehow made it out of the building, but weren’t able to get away with anything. The police still hadn’t caught the guys who did it.

“I was thinking of getting some extra security around the building, at least until the police know who was responsible, and as one of the important figures in this company, I wanted your opinion,” he says as he folds his hands on his desk, “your honest opinion.”

“Uh, yes, sir I think that’s a really good idea,” giving him an assuring nod, “it would help the staff feel a lot safer, given the circumstances.”

“Great. I was thinking of a company named Anvil,” he hands you you a pamphlet, with the company’s name “Anvil” written across the top in bold letters, “it’s ran by an old acquaintance of mine. I set up a meeting for next week, and want you and Chelsea to give him a tour of the building, so he can have an idea of where to place his men, for the extra security.”

You curiously look down at the pamphlet handed to you, having never heard the name before.

“I want you to read through that, and let me know what you think. Also, I want you to write out a report of the floors of the building that were breached.”

“That won’t be a problem sir, I’ll read it through, and have a finished report ready for you, by next week.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he points his finger at you for emphasis, and turns back to his computer, you guessed to finish what he was working on before you walked in. You stand up and leave his office, closing the door behind you, and speed towards your office, hoping not to run into Nick again.

…

“So, have you ever thought about buying another car, or uh, scrapping this one, or driving anything else other than this?”

“Rob, the more you ask, does not raise the chances of me wanting to get a new vehicle,” you joked with the car repair man, as you walked past the several other cars in the repair shop,“and I thought I was your favorite customer?”

“Eh, that’s up for debate,”

You lightly chuckle at his reply, as you hand him the repair money, with a generous tip included, which he places in in his back pocket.

“She’s good as new-, Well, as new as she could be.”

“That’s why you’re the best, Rob.”

You walk around the car and do a quick inspection of the vehicle, that had began to fade in color, it’s bright red now a dull pink color. The mirror’s were rusty and the inside of the car had a few scratches, but it was perfect in your eyes.

This was your third time at the repair shop in two months, if you counted correctly.

Parts of the car would give in, which would lead you to the repair shop every few months or so. If it wasn’t the car battery, it was the engine that needed to be looked at, which made you a regular at the shop. You had been to many repair shops previously, and most refused to touch anything, afraid that it would break down within a few repairs. It became a difficult task to complete each time, with the number of repairs growing each year.

But Rob always came through.

It would’ve been easier to just get a new car, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sell this one.

It was one of the only things you had left of her.

You thought of her everyday, your mother.

Her smile, that would reach her eyes, that was almost as blinding as the sun. Her perfectly manicured hands, that would hold your hand in hers, whenever you were afraid. Her soft laugh that was like a feathers floating in a light summer breeze. And that smell. That smell that only she had, that was uniquely hers.

That’s how you wanted to remember her.

Not what you saw of her that night.

Not how he left her.

You hop in your car, and adjust you seat belt and rear view mirror, as you try to forget the bad memory.

“Thanks again, Rob!”

“Yeah, no problem, see you in a few months!” He jokingly yells out as you drive out of the repair shop, and hit the road to pick your daughter up from school.

…

“You two are unbelievable.”

“I think you should give it a chance, it actually doesn’t sound so ba-“

“I can’t believe you let her convince you!,” you yelled in playful frustration at Jaz, who you now thought was just as much of a child as Ava was. “You would have a sugar crash, before noon.”

“But how come donuts can be eaten for breakfast?,” Ava questioned, “their full of sugar and frosting.”

“You know she actually has a poin-,”

“You are not going to convince me that you can turn a cupcake into a breakfast sandwich!” The two of you had returned home about an hour ago, and you decided to begin making dinner, while Jaz and Ava kept you company in the kitchen.

“But wait, what if.. you added bacon?” Jaz asks hoping to convince you.

“That would absolutely not make it better. I think it would actually make it worse,” you replied, imagining a bacon filled cupcake, “And it’s actually kinda gross.”

“I just think you should try it,” she shrugs as she picks up one of the carrots you just peeled and snacks on it, “she might be on to something.”

You giggle at her ridiculous comment, when Ava stands from her seat, and walks over to you.

“Mom, do you have any old magazines? I want to cut some pictures out for my new scrapbook.”

“Didn’t you just make a new one a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, but you can never have too many!”

“She’s right, you can never have too many scrapbooks,” Jaz adds.

“I have a few up on my closet shelf-,” she runs off into the hallway before you can finish, “but give me a minute, they’re too high up and I don’t want you to hurt yourself!” you finish slicing up a vegetable as you yell out after her.

After you wash your hands, you walk into your bedroom to find the old magazines, high up on your closet shelf.

“I think there may be some underneath the bed, in a shoe box.” You inform Ava, as she begins reach underneath the bed.

After a few minutes of searching, you realize that you may have misplaced the old magazines, prompting you to start searching in your bottom drawer.

“Mom, who’s this?”

“Who’s wh-“

You turn around as your face freezes in panic, and your unable to finish your last words, as she holds up a polaroid picture. You thought you had hidden away all the pictures of him, but you had obviously missed one. The picture was of you and a man with black hair, as you placed your hand around the playful arm that was around your neck, and held up white roses that covered the bottom half of your face.

Yet the smile still reached your eyes.

The joy and excitement of that night , could be seen through the half of your face showed up in the picture. It was a simple picture, but it spoke a million words. It was the first night you had met.

He had a smile you would recognize anywhere.

Dark brown eyes that were different from just any regular old brown eyes. They had this unique sparkle to them, that could stop anyone in their tracks.

Similar to Ava’s.

Sometimes she reminded you of him. In the little actions she would do, the weird food combinations that were similar to his, that you used tease him for. And when you looked at her at times, you thought she looked just like him.

Billy Russo.

“That’s… an old friend. From a long time ago.”

She takes a second to look at the study the picture, before she decides to place it back in the shoe box where she found it.

It was a name that was associated with so much pain, and heartbreak, and a whole bunch of other feelings were weren’t quite sure of. But one thing you were sure of was this:

You never wanted to see that man again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #the punisher #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic

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newtthetranswriter · 2 months

Note

PLEASE WRITE THIS WHEN U HAVE TIME. I know your requests are closed, but I wanted to request this because my memory is very bad & I forget a lot of my ideas.

transfem reader w toji fushiguro (or gojo if you’d rather write him) who has gender dysphoria about her body? maybe she does everything she can to appeal to the stereotypically feminine view—makeup, hair, heels—but when she sees the women that flirt w her boyfriend, she can’t help but feel inferior. maybe her body’s too rectangular or her chest is too small.

I can’t seem to find any fics like this, and I really like your blog 🙏🙏 again, please write this when your requests are open.

Word count: 1932

Pairing Satoru Gojo x Trans!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Self doubt, mentions of transphobia (internalized and old fashioned views), ooc gojo?

A/n: Hello Thank you so much for requesting. I know you said I could wait to write it until I opened requests again, but I just felt inspired by this so I hope you enjoy it. Also I went with Gojo mainly because I'm not the biggest toji fan. I am trans masculine so I’m not 100% sure if I captured the feelings trans fem people feel so if there are any mistakes please let me know. Anyways enjoy and remember to Hydrate or Diedrate.

Dating Satoru was a dream come true. I mean seriously never would I have thought such a high ranking member of Jujutsu society would even look my way let alone The Satoru Gojo. But I guess I got lucky, and even though Satoru is one of the most loving people I have ever met, I can’t help but to doubt myself.

Afterall life as a transgender person is hard enough as it is but add the strict and stuff beliefs of the older generation of Jujutsu sorcerers and you have a breeding ground for self doubt. Everytime Satoru and I are in public or have to interact with one of the other clans, my mind is flooded with terrible thoughts. ‘How can Satoru stand to be seen with me, there are so many more beautiful women out there.’ or ‘He’d be better off with a cis woman who is truly beautiful.’ It’s hard to quiet these thoughts when I’ve heard these comments from the higher ups in passing and sometimes I believe them.

And today of all days, the thoughts are more precisdent as me and Satoru are out on one of the few dates we get with his busy schedule. I had spent hours before trying to look as beautiful as possible to make this date perfect, I had Shoko help me pick a nice outfit and the perfect pair of heels. I spent most of the day perfecting the perfect hairstyle and make-up look for the night. Eventually with major words of encouragement from Shoko and Satoru himself I was ready, I even started the night feeling confident that I looked amazing.

But alas all good feelings come to an end. Once we were at the restaurant, I couldn’t help but notice all the beautiful women staring at Satoru and I mean I can’t blame them but it just caused the thoughts to surface again. Noticing my slight shift in mood Satoru turned to me, “Hey is everything okay?” He asked as he placed his arm around my waist. Not wanting to worry him I just smiled and nodded at him. “Okay… but you know if there’s something bothering you let me know, Ok?” He said, I could tell he was skeptical but he dropped the topic when the hostess asked us to follow her to the table.

Once seated we talked briefly about how his students were doing and how curses were becoming more annoying as of late before dropping the topic of work and just talking about tv and plans for the next couple weeks. “And I was thinking that we could go check out the new mall that opened up recently, I saw some beautiful dresses I thought you might like and would love to get you a few,” Satoru explained as he looked at the menu in front of him.

“That sounds lovely.” I responded and was planning on continuing the conversation when a waitress approached the table.

Looking at the young woman, I couldn’t help but notice how she was the picture of feminine beauty. Curvy in all the right places, perfect hair and subtle but gorgeous make-up. “Hello I’m Ally, I’ll be your server tonight, can I get you any drinks?” Hearing her speak for some reason made my heart hurt, knowing I would likely never sound as young and girlish as her.

I noticed Satoru looked at me and I quickly wiped the look of doubt off my face before he could say anything. I guess it worked because he turned his attention back to the woman, and quickly ordered us some wine and an appetizer we had agreed on. The waitress wrote the order down before excusing herself to take care of the order. Once she had walked away Satoru turned back to me. “Are you absolutely positive nothing is wrong?” He asked as he placed his hand over mine on the table. Once again not wanting to sour the mood of the evening, I nodded and said I was fine and turned the topic back to the previous conversation.

After we got our drinks and we ordered our entrees, I couldn’t help but notice that our waitress was checking in on us more than what is normally expected. She would stop by the table every time she walked by to check if the wine was to our liking or if we needed anything while we waited for the main course. I quickly picked up on how she would get slightly closer to Satoru’s side of the table each time, it was also clear that Satoru hadn’t noticed the subtle comments being directed at him. I couldn’t help but think that he was saying anything about it because he liked being hit on by a cis woman. Maybe he secretly hates the fact that I'm trans and just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. Eventually the thoughts got the best of me and tears started to well up in my eyes and it was taking everything out of me not to burst into sobs.

Once the waitress left again saying she would check on our food, Satoru turned to look at me, and I could see his eyes widen exponentially even through his dark sunglasses. “Hey, it’s ok. What’s wrong and don’t say nothing, something is clearly bothering you.” He said gently but sternly as he squeezed my hand and pulled his sunglasses off so I could make unobstructed eye contact.

Not having the strength to hold it in any longer I let out a few of my thoughts, maybe a little too loud for the setting but I couldn’t hold it in. “Why are you with me Satoru? You could have anyone, so why me?” It took the white haired male a second to process what was said but before he could speak, I continued. “I’m not beautiful like every woman here, I’m not curvy in all the right spots, my make up looks like a middle schooler did it, so why do you stay with me, when you could have a real woman?” I hated saying it but it was true in my mind, or at least I believed it. I wasn’t thin with big boobs and a big butt, I’m just flat. My figure is the opposite of curvy, I have broad shoulders and the flattest chest. I can’t grasp how someone so handsome can sit across from someone like me and say that I’m beautiful when so many better people are around.

After my mini outburst it was almost silent in our area of the restaurant. Satoru just looked at me stunned, he knew I suffered from dysphoria but he thought he had done a good job helping me feel better. The six-eyes user looked down at the table before speaking. “I know you have trouble believing me when I say this but you are the most beautiful person I have ever met. I don’t care if you aren’t curvy or if you struggle with make-up sometimes, No matter what you are beautiful to me.” As he said this he stood from the table and whipped the tears that had escaped my eyes from my face. While he was focused on me I noticed our waitress coming back this time with our food in hand. Seeing me look in that direction Satoru waved over the woman. “Can you have those put in togo boxes for us? My partner and I are done here.” I looked up at him shocked, but before I could protest he spoke again. “And before that can you please have your supervisor come speak with me?” Now I’m extremely confused.

“Satoru, what are you doing? I thought we were going to eat here?” I asked, confused, as I watched a nervous looking man approach. Satoru just stood up straight, put his sunglasses on and turned to the man who I’m now guessing is the supervisor.

“You must be the supervisor. I would like to file a complaint about the waitress who served me and my lovely partner here.” Satoru spoke in his formal tone he reserved for the higher ups, it was clear he was upset but he sounded so calm. “I was just trying to enjoy one of the rare occasions when I can pamper my Love, and your waitress spent most of the night hitting on me. Now I tried to be understanding and let it slide, but after numerous comments that clearly made my partner upset, I have decided that we will be taking our food to go and we will not be returning to this establishment.” While I didn’t expect that, I wasn’t expecting the look of concern that washed over the man’s face at my boyfriend's comment. “I will also be pulling all support from this restaurant that is provided by the Gojo estate.” With that final comment Satoru turned to me and offered his hand for me to take, as I stood up, the waitress from before brought our food now in to-go boxes and handed it to Satoru.

With food in hand we started to exit the restaurant, but before we could reach the door, the supervisor ran after us calling for Satoru. “Mr. Gojo please reconsider, I’ll fire this woman. Flirting with customers is against restaurant policy. Please do not pull the funding.” At first It seemed that he was actually upset about what the woman did but with the last sentence it was clear he was actually more worried about the money the Gojo clan apparently provided the business.

“No, I will be pulling the funding. You clearly care more about the money then how your employees are treating your top investors.” Satoru said not even looking at the man. With that we left and went home.

Once we were home and finished with our food, we laid down in our large bed and just cuddled with each other. Breaking the silence I asked a question I had been thinking about since we left. “Why did you do that?” I felt him looking at me clearly confused by the sudden question. “I mean tell that guy you were pulling the funding from the restaurant, I didn’t know the Gojo clan had investments in such things.” I was confused.

I felt Satoru chuckle as I laid on his chest before he spoke. “First, The Gojo clan has investments in a lot you don’t know about. Secondly I told him that because I meant it.” I lifted my head to look at him. As if reading my mind he continued, “I’m not going to support a business that only cares about the money and only has a problem with staff being disrespectful when their funds are threatened.” I nodded and was about to say something before he stopped me. “Plus I could tell you were uncomfortable the entire time and were just holding back for my sake. I want you to know that if there is ever a problem I will deal with it.”

“Thank you Satoru.” I said laying my head back on his chest. I decided it was probably time to go to sleep when I let out a small yawn.

As I drifted off, I heard Satoru speak one last time. “I love you, Y/n, don’t ever forget it. And I mean it when I say you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, I could never wish for more.” With that he placed a kiss to the top of my head and we both fell asleep enjoying each other's embrace.

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x transfem reader #x trans reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x trans reader #satoru gojo x reader

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ilovelosersandshortmen · 5 months

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Could I ask for the Brotherhood with a Platonic Reader who's just some random kid? Not even a mutant or anything, they just walked into the house one day and just decided 'yeah I'll live here with you guys🤷'

The Brotherhood of Mutants reacting to a random person deciding to move in with them (PLATONIC!!)

I love this idea oml 😭😭 This has very big Addams Family vibes honestly. I'm going to write this with a more sibling-like relationship because I love found family.

TODD:

• Okay, honestly, I've always thought Todd would be like.. a redneck cigarette dad. I mean that with love.

• Constantly getting into wrestling matches and teaching people bad behaviors, you know what I mean. Trailer park behavior. (I used to live in one so I can make fun of it)

• He's the kind of guy that would put you on his shoulders so that you can spray paint a building or something. Also teaches you the most efficient way to hop a fence when running from the cops!

• He's like Roderick from Diary of a Wimpy kid, taking you out for gas station snack runs late at night.

• Sometimes, he feels like you're the only person he can open up to.

• He has cried on your shoulder more than a few times.

• Then you guys make cookies together.

FRED:

• I know I keep bringing this up, but I believe Fred is an amazing cook. (this is based on the rose radishes he made for Pietro or whatever)

• So he constantly makes sure you get fed first, because he knows eating well in the Brotherhood is really hard.

• Always lifting things to impress you.

• (Yeah he's a sad only child soo.. you're his new sibling. He's decided. Already calls you his brother/sister)

• Would literally both die and kill for you.

• He doesn't want to hurt you with his hugs, so sometimes he just lets you cling to him like a koala.

• He likes to help you pick out your outfits (I don't know, this just feels right to me)

• He's also super supportive if you're alt/goth/emo

• You guys have fashion shows to show off your outfits.

• Honestly, he's your biggest fan.

PIETRO:

• Genuinely in disbelief

• "Wait, so we're just.. letting this happen!?"

• He's really the only one who cares, which I guess is understandable. I wouldn't want even more people in a house that's already falling apart.

• So, at first, he's always complaining about you being there. You took his spot on the couch. You stepped on his shoe that one time. Once he complained that you breathed too loudly near him.

• After a while, he reduces his whining to muttering and then eventually just gets used to your presence.

• He doesn't like to admit it, but he kind of does want to impress you. He'll use his powers and then just.. stand in front of you, waiting for praise.

• Always behind you when you go for walks, like a scary guard dog.

• SO. MANY. PRANK WARS.

WANDA:

• She's chill.

• She's not really vocal about everything, but she does really care for you!

• Wanda would def help you dye your hair or paint your nails.

• And she would use her powers to grab things off of high places, just so you don't get injured.

• Pietro might be a little jealous of you, but who cares what he thinks anyway.

• She would also probably help you pierce yourself

• Then would help you when it got infected.

LANCE:

• He always tries to pretend that he doesn't care, but he definitely does.

• Always making sure you don't get hurt around the house, and is the first person to worry if you do ever get hurt.

• Also, this goes for all of them, but he would absolutely love playing video games with you. Even if he loses. A lot.

• More than a few earthquakes were caused over Mario Kart.

• Also the first to raise hell if you went missing.

• Sometimes takes you out with Kitty to get food (like that one "Mama y Papa" trend on Tiktok)

TABITHA:

• She takes you under her wing immediately.

• After a day with her, you have a new taste in music and a bunch of outfits that were not shoplifted at all.

• You basically become her right hand person when causing trouble, she'd constantly wake you up for late night joy rides.

• Asks you to help her with her hair (there's no way she doesn't use 5 bottles of hairspray for that thing)

• You two definitely shoplift together, or she shop lifts random things for you.

• Always getting you little snack or trinkets.

I don't know if this was exactly what you were thinking, but I love the idea of a platonic sibling-like relationship!! Also, I'm sorry if this is really short, I'm more used to writing romance. But, as always, I appreciate you and I hope you have an amazing night!!

#xmen evolution #the brotherhood of evil mutants #todd tolansky #xmen headcanon

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beautouslysandy · 1 year

Text

Laughing In The Rain

By-Sandy

Sodapop Curtis x GN!Reader

Warnings:Zero, just fluff with soda

Word Count: 1,031

______________________________________________

-You are a care-free sweet-hearted person, you have many people in your life but there is only one person you wanna spend it with and that is Sodapop Curtis. The boy next door, in simple terms. -You get butterflies just thinking about him. He is your dream and he just doesn’t know it. You haven’t seen him a lot since he dropped out of school. You miss seeing his smile when you’d was eachother in the halls. You miss seeing him everyday in History class. You miss him so much. -You guys have know each-other for 4 years, you aren’t the best of friends but your still pretty close. You know almost everything about him, not in the creepy way of course.

-Little do you know that he is missing you too.

••••••

It was a murky and rainy evening, you were at your desk studying for upcoming exams. Your desk faced the window so you could look out onto the street. Great for people watching is what you and your dad always joke about. You tap your pencil on your desk repeatedly, your growing bored and frustrated with studying this material. You look out the window zoning out. You love the rain, you love the smell of the freshly wet grass, the feeling of it hitting your skin, and for some odd reason you lived for the stormy grey the sky and clouds turn during a rainstorm. You enjoyed the little things no one else did. You came back to the present time, you say two little girls in rain attire jumping in puddles, you laughed to yourself as you thought it was adorable. You eyes wander to see the Curtis’ house and some of their friends out on the porch. They were knocking on the door, all huddled together trying to get through the open door first. You have this idea to go out into the rain and just enjoy it. You chicken out at first cause you don’t wanna embarrass yourself, you then begin to wonder why would I be embrassed if I am enjoy something I like. ‘Screw it.’ You thought to yourself.

You get off the desk chair and leave your studying to another time. You were about to walk out the door when you hear your mom’s voice call to you. “Y/N L/N, please tell me you are not going in the rain wearing that?” She said peeking out of your parents study examining your outfit like it was a report card.

I look at my outfit, I had on dark blue flare jeans with white roughed up shoes and a white sweater with your sliver locket.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused with what was wrong with your outfit

“Put a jacket on, young lady. Then you can go play or what not in the rain.” She said sternly with a smile.

“Okay, ma” You say willingly as you grab your black rain jacket and put it on. You open the door and close it, you take a deep breath. And as you guessed it smelled like freshly wet grass. You are pretty sure you have candle of the smell somewhere in your disorganized room.

You walked out into the rain, you giggled as your hair got wet. You went to grab the hood of the chair to put it on then you found nothing and then it hit you that you had forgotten that this rain coats hood was murdered last year after your little brother had the smartest of ideas to use it to play tug a war with the neighbors dog. You sat down on the sidewalk and played with the grass just enjoying as the rain hit your skin. You smiled with your eyes closed and took a deep breath again. You picked a dandelion out of the grass surprised that it wasn’t ruined by the rain. You twirled the stem around with your fingers. You zoned out until you heard a familiar voice saying:

“Y/N? Why are you sitting on the sidewalk when it’s raining?” You looked up to see Sodapop, you were shocked for a second then turned pink.

“Uhm..I just like the rain thats all.” You said almost like it was a question.

‘Gosh Y/N do you have any social skills?’ You thought to yourself.

“Oh. Me too” He said with a smile.

You chuckled awkwardly, “That’s nice.” you said uncontrollably

“Uh yeah.” He said sounding a little sad

This conversation was going no where. Until you said:

“So how’s been?” You said confidently, you even added a smile. You felt your skin turning pinker by the minute. He smiled, glad to find a topic. “It’s been great! As you know I am working at the DX full time now and..” He began sitting down right next to you looking you in the eyes. He’s eyes were sparkly, he didn’t have a rain coat on or anything just a white t-shirt, his DX short sleeved button up and hat, and his shoes and oil stained jeans. You completely zoned out, you didn’t anything he said and you found him looking at you happily and waiting for a response.

“Oh I am sorry, I zoned out” You said awkwardly and a bit embarrassed.

He looked at you with same sparkle in his eyes and replied with “Thats okay! Happens to me all of the time! I will just repeat what I said…” and he did.

———

You don’t know how long you guys have been out there but you didn’t care and he didn’t seem to either. Most of your conversation had been filled with laughs and giggles. It’s was still raining and y’all were soaked but it didn’t matter, you were happy. “So..” He said picking at the grass, picking out a strand of one from a patch of crab grass on your lawn. “Would you like to come over and hangout?” He asked looking at you with his perfect smile.

You didn’t say anything at first, you have never been invited to a boys place before. “I-I..uhm” You were speechless and you were so flustered.

He looked at you confused “We can just stay out here if you want, I was just getting a little cold that’s all.” He finished with his smile.

“No no no. I just went blank, sorry. I would love I mean like to hangout with you or I mean you and your friends. Uh sure.” You said quickly as you felt heat find your face, you had totally weirded him out you were thinking.

He laughed softly as he looked at the ground then he looked and you and said, “I was hoping you would say that.” He stood up and held out his hand which you quickly took.

He turned and gave you a kiss on the check before leading the way to his house. When I tell you almost squealed and turned 50 shades of red I mean it. Believe me.

Thank you for reading!

-Sandy

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #sodapop curtis #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop imagine #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop curtis imagines #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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hikari-ni-naritai · 3 months

Note

3 6 10 11 12 18 21 23 26 27 29 30 31 36 45 50 52 54 55 57 58 59 60 62 69 (nice) 74 76 86 87 90 95 97

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

man . theyre both kinda. painfully sweet. bubblegum i guess? i also like cotton candy tho its just hard to pick

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

i dotn know what like. most of these words mean. how are half of these related even. tomboy.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

man i fucked hard at dodgeball

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

these days shredded wheat

12. name of your favorite playlist?

the fuck is a playlist

18. ideal weather?

yknow, cloudy, warm, smells like its about to rain

21. obsession from childhood?

warriors cats babeyyyy. and bionicles

23. strange habits?

man i KNOW ive got some but i cant think what they are. i do this wrist flick manoeuver to crack it.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

if im actually out in the warm weather? take a nice walk maybe.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

yknow. i havent done it in ages but i really like doing jigsaw puzzles. maybe put some jazz on.

29. best way to bond with you?

i dunno honestly! i dont have an answer to this one. it takes a lot of time and effort i think.

30. places that you find sacred?

the woods. the woods the woods the woods you have no idea. the woods. its the woods.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

i would die if i tried to do either of those things

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

like...... charlie the unicorn i think.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

fantasy obv

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

god there was something that destroyed me but idr what it was. the hardest in recent memory was me trying to tell a REALLY really stupid joke that wont make sense to any of you. i did not manage to say it bc i was laughing too hard.

52. favorite font?

i absolutely do not have an opinion on this

54. what did you learn from your first job?

you know at mcdonalds in order to work the grill you have to be willing to put your arms under a hot piece of metal that drips boiling grease on you? thats what i learned.

55. favorite fairy tale?

what IS my favorite fairy tale....... we'll go with red riding hood bc her modern interpretations are always the cutest

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

damn what. uhh ok, having to rebuild my entire social life after the shit that happened a couple years ago, the several year process of going from hyperconservative christian to a . whatever the hell i am now. some kind of far left girl. and uhhhh. figuring out i was trans i guess? idk

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

four??? im good at ff14 raiding, im good at writing, im good at.... uhh... im pretty funny i think, annnddddd uhhh. i dont know that its a talent, but i like to think im good at making people feel safe talking to me.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

heh... guess i shotcha... uhh 'god im fucking tired'

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

ISEKAI OBVIOUSLY specifically something like slime 300 but ill take almost any of them.

62. seven characters you relate to?

SEVEN............ god.... uhh hanako ikezawa, hikari finalfantasy (im cheating), (god i got to ONE and already had to start cheating...) yumiella dolkness, man im tappin out. look at my list of ocs i put way more of myself into them than there could ever be in any other character

69 nice. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

i feel like i know how i know most of my fun facts bc if i didnt i would not really know if i could believe them or not.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

like 8 or 9 probably. i dont really go below a 5 so. its gotta be like migraine or vertebral artery dissection bad before im like 'i should really get some meds'. unless im doing it preemptively which ive done for like when ive got raid later.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

man fuckin SCALLOPED POTATOES BABEY

86. cookies or cupcakes?

the amount of qualifiers this question needs.... cupcakes tho probably.

87. your greatest fear?

dying.

90. luckiest mistake?

i mean most of my mistakes havent been lucky, the best i can think of is when i accidentally followed my girl @handinvampirichand and now we're mutuals with wildly different taste in things but we're cool.

95. favorite app on your phone?

i like tumblr

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

uhh mine, my moms, my moms house, my brother's, my dads. jg wentworth 877 CASH NOW. so thats 6

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bugeyedfreaks · 5 months

Note

Blossom - 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 12, 16, 20, 23

A bounty of Blossom questions, yay! 🥰

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I think at this point my blog could probably be described as both a general PPG fanblog AND a platform dedicated to defending Blossom… so I think I’ve exhausted myself on describing why I like her so much, and I feel like if I wrote it all again I'd just be repeating myself. But I mean, she's great! She's the kind of character who could (and sadly sometimes does) get easily written off as the "boring girly one," but she's so much more than that. She has a lot of very strong positive qualities and just as many interesting character flaws and quirks that I feel get overlooked by a lot of people.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

Nothing. She’s been in way too many fandom crossovers as it is and it drives me bonkers. 🤣

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

I've been told by maaany people that I seem to have a lot in common with her, but I guess at least two things we share are the innate desire to want to do good and to be perfectionists in whatever we do (and, of course, we get really irritated when we don't reach our desired level of perfection).

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Gosh, well... I guess one thing is that she usually looks beeeeautiful in fanart. 😌 My opinions on older versions of Blossom (and those versions of the girls in general) are very nuanced, and I can be weird and picky about it, but I do really like some of the fits I've seen fanart of Blossom in (like yours for instance, her outfit is cool!). Many people make her look very fashionable, and I appreciate seeing my fave treated well like that.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I've written a lot about the mischaracterization of her character and how the fandom sometimes treats her so... weird (i.e. with shipping and stuff.. you know what I mean... 🥴). I also don’t like it when she’s written off as just some stuck-up, bossy jerk because… okay, yeah, she can be one, but that’s not all that she is! Not that Buttercup and Bubbles don't have their share of nuance, but I'd argue that Blossom has a whole lot more nuance to her. A lot of people don't seem to pick up on that, and the result is that she's either written off as preachy and boring or completely devoid of personality (which is... more often the case, unfortunately).

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I kind of like the idea of her growing up to be a detective (or at least doubling down on her superheroism), mostly because of this plotline in one of the chapter books where her idea of becoming "grown up" is ditching her sisters and starting her own crime-solving business.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

PPG/RRB and any of the ones that exist outside of the world of the show. Dexter’s Lab and Samurai Jack, for example, don’t canonically exist in the world, even though there’ve been little Easter eggs in all of the shows/some CN crossover stuff, and I’m a dopey little stickler for canon (…well, most of the time, anyway!).

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Me. I'm never onscreen but I play the role of "audience member" and so we should be besties. 😆

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Every picture of her is my favorite picture, but this one popped into my head when I started thinking about it. She looks so delightfully goofy, the queen of backyard cereal meals.

#powerpuff girls #ppg #blossom #ask game

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strawbrygashez · 11 months

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Postal 4 + Poostall Royale Fic

The Day Grandpa Slayed

I got the idea to make a short little fic where Poostall Dude & Doe are the ones who helped p4 get his ‘special’ petition outfit together :) This isn’t that good & is just silly ..

————————————————————————

“Okayyy! I see you!” Doe yelled out from her seat across from the other two sitting on the sofa perpendicular to her. Of course she also had her phone out, taking pictures with a wide smirk as she watched the men in front of her.

Dude had to glance away from Poostall to give her a frown which got him a slight slap on the shoulder from the man in front of him. “Don’t make faces. You’re already going to ruin your makeup Dude.” Poostall fussed before he took hold of Dudes face to make him face forward again. Dude mumbled out a sorry before Poostall got back to work on filling in Dudes eyebrows.

Honestly Dude didn’t give a fuck about her taking pictures or either of them joking around about it really. But damn that flash was bothering his eyes and he could deal without her constant snickering. It wasn’t the fact that Dude was man getting his makeup done that was making her giggle of course. Poostall was the one doing the makeup for christ sakes since she didn’t feel like it. It’s just that she liked picking on him particularly for being oldest Postal Dude. It didn’t necessarily get to him that much, he knew he had killer looks and charm but still both her and Poostall Dude were a handful and ‘evil’ rascals most of the time.

But he always also found himself liking that though. Sometimes he wished it was easier for him to still be a fast, sneaky, sly piece of shit person but with his aging bones, he found it harder to do as the years went by. So seeing the both of them gave him a feeling of nostalgia..though he isn’t in a hurry to admit that. Especially to Doe.

“Oh come on…I mean it. You look good! If this doesn’t get people signing your dumb thing I don’t think anything else will.” She said as she finally sat her phone back down and leaned back in the recliner. “You’re lucky you got Mr. Short Stuff helping you too. He’s better at makeup than me anyways.”

Poostall moved back from Dude to check out his handy work from further back. “Hmm…I dunno. Does that look okay to you?” He asked as he gestured towards her for Dude to turn his head back towards her.

Doe slipped off her sunglasses and squinted. “Hm..Yeah.” She said with a shrug before reaching back into the bowl of chips she’d been eating from. “Looks fine to me…Don’t forget to put on those really big eyelashes though! I think it would complete the look.”

Poostall nodded before digging back into his own makeup bag. “Did you actually want those on though old man? We can just do more mascara or something.” He said as he pulled out a couple false lashes and a small thing of what Dude assumed to be eyelash glue. (Hey. Dude kinda knew makeup…he’s fallen down random YouTube rabbit holes at night).

“Eh, fuck it. I’m already committed to wearing fucking stockings and high heels. At this point nothing is too much for me.” He replied. Looking down at himself he really didn’t know exactly how he gotten himself into this position but meh. Worse stuff has happened and he genuinely didn’t care when it came down to it. Maybe some people would laugh or something but he’s gotten that all his life so what reaction could happen this time that he’s not used to?

“Mkay. Do you wanna pick a set?” Poostall asked as he laid some of the fake lashes in their packaging in between them. Yeesh, they really made all these options for eyelashes? He’d kinda just assumed they had only one normal option which were just long and big and then the rest were more for parties where they had fake gems and whatnot. He’d have to try to learn more about this shit especially if these two knew a lot about it. It would make things less confusing for him to understand.

He picked up the set with the biggest lashes and handed it over. “Uhm, I guess this works? Unless I can’t use that or something..”

Poostall grinned. “You can. There isn’t a set you can’t really not use Dude.”

A bit later the look was complete. Dude really had done himself up from head to toe. Maybe going through all this just to get some signatures was pretty over the top but everything was said and done. Plus, Dude actually found himself quite amazed with how the makeup turned out as he looked into the small makeup mirror Poostall had handed him. The makeup really tied the look all together and he found he was actually feeling pretty confident! Old him would have definitely gave him shit for looking like this but for some reason, current him felt actually pretty attractive.

“Jesus fuck man. You really out did yourself.” Dude complemented him as he looked at himself from different angles with the mirror. He even made different faces in the reflection a couple times which made Poostall snicker. “Eh, it’s not much. Me and Doe usually take hours with makeup before we hit up clubs. Kinda just threw stuff together just now but I think it looks great too.”

“I mean it. Like you could probably uh- get some kinda career with these skills. I think that’s a thing right? You could be one of those uh..makeup gay guy influencers I see on YouTube.”

There was…many things about that statement that Poostall could say. Especially since the older guy in front of him was for real wearing high heels and Dude currently had a boyfriend but instead he just raised a eyebrow and gave a sarcastic thanks before beginning to put his makeup products back into a little bag.

Dude helped him gather his things back up before he pulled out his own phone to look at himself on selfie mode on the camera. “Do you all really think I look good?” He asked as he fixed a small smudge of lipstick. Poostall nodded, more concentrated on getting his stuff back together while Doe spoke up again to reassure him. “Like I said Dude, if this doesn’t work nothing will.” She smirked as she watched him check himself out. “You should upload a picture even. Tag me and Poostall though!”

Dude barely even knew how to navigate most social media but oh well, fuck it. Maybe he would share it somewhere, just keep it on his phone for memories sake.. or to show his boyfriend later. Either way, he snapped a photo or two before setting his phone back onto the couch with a sigh. “After I’m done I think I’m going to call it a day.” He grumbled, leaning back into the seat. The girl in front of him took another bite of a chip and nodded, crossing one of her legs on top of the other. The day before he’d basically gave them a tour of the town basically.. he’d been dealing with their asses for about a week now and letting them even sleep in his trailer…and even she knew that they can be annoying so she quickly understood. “Yeah. It’s supposed to rain later on I think. That’s what the cute weather lady said on the news earlier anyways. Yknow the one with the long hair? Blue eyes??”

Dude shrugged and checked the time on his phone. “Well it’s six now..”

“Uh.. yeah I would probably go ahead and head out now if you wanna make it back before it gets bad.” She said, picking up the remote next to her and flipping the channel from the old horror movie that had been on, to the weather which made Poostall huff. “I was watching that dumbass.”

“Oh shut up. You’ve seen that movie tons of times.” She grumbled back as she tossed the remote back down.

What was totally insane to Dude was that the two weren’t siblings..not because they looked similar obviously, since all ‘Postal Dudes’ do but just because they had that kinda energy. Plus, they’d both met each other without some funky ‘brain damage’ situation or anything weird. What they’d told Dude at least was they’d met each other at work and eventually moved in together since they just clicked so well..

Thinking of the fact there is apparently multiple versions of himself always just gave him a headache though, but sometimes he did wonder what happened to the one he’d met ages ago with the brown jacket. He understood that situation a bit more since he’d gotten pretty badly injured but nothing crazy to Dudes knowledge made him be able to meet these two but he wasn’t even going to question it. He’d met them, they’d seem nice, they’d needed a place to stay so he’s leaving it at that until whatever else eventually comes up.

Seeing that he indeed should go ahead and probably get ready to leave he stood up.

“Wait! Wait! Can I take a picture of you fully?” Doe asked as she lifted up her phone again. Dude rolled his eyes but posed anyways with a hand on his hip and a leg sticking out some. “Jeez.. you got some killer thighs man. Work it!” She giggled. “I know.” Dude dramatically sighed as he gave her another pose. “It’s a blessing and a curse.” He joked as he turned around to give her a over the shoulder pose, making her smile more and Poostall chuckle again.

“You gonna give us a twerk or something?! You got too much cake not to.” Doe joked as she zoomed out on him on her phone. “Cake?”

“Ass.” Poostall clarified as he stood up to go grab a drink out of the fridge. “Oh.. uh. Why not?” Dude said. He was in a playful, silly mood anyways. He liked seeing them finding joy in stupid crap so why not? He slowly dropped ‘it’ low and then to his sudden embarrassment both Doe and Poostall let out a wheeze. Doe laughed pretty hard until her eyes watered up. “Grandpas serving cunt!!” She yelled as she continued to record.

It left him feeling more self conscious than he thought he’d be so he suddenly stood back up, (ouch!! his legs!) before giving a small laugh of his own though his face was red. “Agh, shut up. I need to hurry up and take my meds so I can leave, assholes.” He smiled shyly before quickly making his way to a cupboard and pulling out all the meds he takes everyday.

Once he’d taken them and things had calmed down enough, (though Doe was still wiping her tears away) he stood near the door. “Alright. I’ll be back probably around nine. I’m going to pick up some food us even though I don’t think you all deserve it.” He joked.

“Aww, I’m sorry Dude. Well be good while you’re gone I promise and I’ll tease you a little less…eventually.”

“Hm..I’ll believe it when I see it. Anyways, be good you two. Im not saving your asses again like I did Monday night again.” Dude said, placing a hand on Doe’s hair, ruffling it up a little since she was the closest of the two. “Yeah yeah. Don’t worry. The hot chick is on anyways so I’m good.”

Dude soon left after giving a couple reminders, leaving Doe and Poostall alone.

“Hey…. My Doe-eyed Deary?”

“Hm?”

“Didnt Dude drive by a club the other day? Wanna go check it out while he’s out?”

“I like the way you think.”

#postal dude #poostall royale #postal fic #postal 4

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socialbunny · 1 year

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15 questions for 15 mutuals :3

i was tagged by @annieshowell, @obsoletepixels, @goatskickin, @shitysimp, @sicksadsim and @jsasimmer <3333333333 thanks guys ily >:3

are you named after anyone? no, my mom had two names she wanted to pick for me and she and my dad settled on the one i have. but she was alsoo watching this movie in the hospital and one of the characters has my exact birth name so i think that cemented the name lol. and my name dirk, i named myself after dirk dreamer bc he's so me fr

when was the last time you cried? can't remember exactly

do you have kids? No I don't need that that in my life rn

do you use sarcasm a lot? I dooo, never in a mean way tho bc i feel like using sarcasm to mask how u feel abt some1 is pussy fr. i love joking around and poking fun and just being silly and weird and chillin like? irl personality is hit or miss with people. ive been told i talk back too much or always have something to say like? 😭

what sports do you play/have you played? when i was in elementary school i was in a dance group (terrible at it i have no rhythm at all it's honestly embarrassing) and when i was in high school i was in a tennis class (which was a PE alternative where we honestly never did shit tbh, towards the end of the school year we'd just be in the computer lab most of the time) and i considered joining the actual team but i also sucked at it 😭 and i really don't like doing team shit esp sports bc people start acting weird and i start getting real agitated.

what's the first thing you notice about other people? like physical i guess their outfit and hair and other shit i wear my glasses forr but shittttt, like just talking to someone i can catch their vibe really quick. just the way someone talks can tell you a lot abt them

eye color? Brown

scary movies or happy endings? it really depends on what the movie is

any special talents? nothing in particular i can think of. i think anything i do i'm really good at but not especially good at you know. i used to be told i'm really good at drawing but i was told this by the type of ppl who say they cant draw a stick figure so. take that as u will

where were you born? Texas 🤠

what are your hobbies? I love drawing and writing and reading and all the shit in that sphere of hobbies in theory 😭 been in a slump lately and doing shit seems harder than it needs to be. I love watching animation analysis and critiques, and listening to those 3hr vids of ppl talking abt shit i will never watch or care about while i do other bullshit. i really like making renders right now it gives me something to do without getting distracted too much. i also love playing really old shitty video games that have pages of cut content on tcrf

do you have any pets? No :( never had any pets when i was a kid either bc my mom had a whole bunch of dogs as a child and she didnt fw the idea of having any more animals in her house

how tall are you? 5'4 :)

fave subject in school? I love English (predictably I guess 😭)

dream job? i'd love to work in the animation industry in any way possible <3 or work in tv in general. probably have my own cartoon some day but thats such a stretchhhhhhhh i cant even work on my sims fanfiction or any oc shit LMAO. if not then i'd accept nothing less than a job where i don't have to talk to a lot of people and get payed billions of dollars to do bullshit

i dont have 15 ppl to tag since i do ask games so slowlyyyyy but i'll tag @despairoftheendless, @junkskoer, @faghotline and @hyperthinks !!! <3

#chat

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tiredcowpoke · 9 months

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REGARDING THE SINCLAIRS [5]

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Request: Not a request. Previous part: [X] Blurb: You had always assumed the stories of time travel in your family were just that. Stories. At worst, maybe an inside joke. However, your world starts to shift when your grandfather leaves his home to you in his will. The old Sinclair house, one that has been passed down for generations. Taking up the task of moving into and upgrading the home, a man dressed like he just stepped out of a western arrives, unconscious, on your porch with a letter in his hand. Warnings: Mentions of a previously abusive relationship (not graphic.) Note: Catching up Tumblr to the AO3 version of this since I plan on trying to pick this back up. Sorry about that.

Arthur turned the baseball cap over in his hands as if it was going to bite him as you walked back into the house after shoving a bag into the back of your car.

It was an early morning, almost six, and you could feel it. Still, you knew you had a bit of a drive ahead of you and you wanted to get to the motel by evening. A part of you was struggling not to let the stress of the situation get to you, but…well, you had no idea how someone would react to seeing their own grave. Still, Arthur had confirmed again that he wanted to do this. (Judging from the look on his face when you asked, you had a feeling that he was getting tired of you asking…) Still, the sight before you made you pause, a small grin crossing your face.

“The Elks aren’t my favorite team either, but it won’t bite you,” you said, gesturing toward the cap in his hands as you tried to lighten the mood.

“Huh?”

“It’s the team’s logo on the front,” you explained, “...Listen, I’d let you wear what you want, but there will be pictures there of old gang members. You included. I can’t risk someone recognizing you, as much as they probably will just think it’s a coincidence.”

“This hat and outfit will do that?” Arthur asked, sounding somewhat disbelieving. At that, he put the hat on. It fit nice, at least, his eyes peering out at you from under the brim.

Knowing who he was, you could easily tell it was him but…well, it was enough to not get people to take a second glance. He definitely looked like someone you’d pass by on the street without much thought. It was a downgrade. The cowboy fashion suited him, that was clear. Still, you didn’t want to risk it.

“Yeah, it’ll do,” you said with a nod, “Though, I guess I’m ready to go if you are.”

“Sure…” Again with the uncertainty, though from the glance he tossed over your shoulder, you had a feeling it was more about the car this time.

You never had to explain a car to someone before, but you’d certainly try. Offering Arthur a small smile, you gestured that he leave the house before you followed him out. You locked the door behind you, watching as he looked over your car with some mild unease. Arthur had ‘died’ in 1899, he was right on the cusp of a lot of technological advances. Yet, you had to realize that even the things that seemed new and innovative back then would seem outdated now.

“You used to rob trains, right?” you asked, stepping down from the porch as Arthur glanced back at you.

“Sure.”

“Well, this is kind of like a train,” you said, gesturing toward your car, “Minus the coal, steam…it functions like one. Kind of.”

“Damn small train…”

“Yeah,” you said around a laugh, “There’s some technology in here that makes it move. In all honesty, we might be here a while if I tried to explain all the parts but…it’s safe. I’m a good driver. You can just sit and relax.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Arthur replied, finally approaching the passenger side as you lingered by the driver’s side, “Kinda looks like a coach, just without the horses…”

“Yeah, horses aren’t that common for transportation these days,” you explained, opening the door, “I mean, some places may still, but I’d get used to cars.”

“Damn shame.”

Offering him a somewhat understanding smile, you got into the driver’s seat as Arthur opened his door after you. He watched somewhat curiously as you put on your seat belt, causing you to glance at him as you pulled out your keys. You were about to point out that he’d need to put his on when Arthur seemed to catch on, mimicking your movements with some hesitation. You turned on the engine, Arthur tensing somewhat but seemed to relax once he saw nothing else happened.

Some faint music played out of the speakers, but you flicked it off for now. As much as you could explain how that worked, you didn’t want to overwhelm him.

Though, he adapted well as you got onto the road into Strawberry. A little tense, his gaze mostly looking out of the window and windshield. If he was overly uncomfortable, he didn’t say much about it but you figured getting him into some conversation would help him adjust and make the drive not too insufferable without music.

“The gang…” you started, making him glance toward you, “You guys were out east near the end of the century. You ever been to Strawberry?”

“Yeah,” Arthur replied with a small huff, “Ain’t much there, but I used to have some lastin’ damage on that town.”

“Lasting damage?”

Arthur paused for a moment, almost like he was debating getting into it. “Well, if you know so much ‘bout me, the gang, guess you’ve heard of Micah?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely intertwined into the narrative of the downfall of your gang,” you replied, picking your words carefully, “He’s a…strangely divisive figure, though I don’t understand why.”

“Divisive?”

“Yeah, opinions are split. Nobody argues that he was a good guy or anything, but whether he was just a greedy bastard or if he just wanted to separate Dutch and didn’t think his actions would cause it all to fall apart.”

“Let me tell ya somethin’,” Arthur started, his voice tight, “Knowin’ Micah, that first impression is the only one people should have. Rat bastard cared for nobody but himself.”

“As much as I wish I could just say that’s that, unfortunately nobody’s going to believe me about…this whole situation. Still, I agree. It’s just people liking to be contrarian. There’s a number of debates about you that I’ve seen.”

“Yeah?” he asked, now catching his attention as you nodded, slowing the car somewhat to take a turn.

“It’s about morality, I guess. Also some dispute about events that happened in your journal and arguments about bias. It’s a lot to get into. The most common one I’ve heard is if you had good morals to begin with or if you only changed because of, uh, the TB.”

Arthur sat on that for a few moments, staring out as the outskirts of Strawberry approached. You were worried you had crossed a line, but you didn’t want to lie to him. It was clear people cared about the story, the events and the reality of the Van der Linde gang. People talked about it, and had differing opinions.

“What’s your view on that?”

“I, uh…” Well, you certainly weren’t expecting to have to give your input. Really, the old west and the Van der Linde gang wasn’t in your usual scope of historical interest.

“I think human nature is a little too hard to wrangle,” you continued, letting out a small sigh, “It’s a bit of a mess trying to guess the nature of historical figures. Though, based on your journal, it’s clear you had a shift in perspective. Wanted to help those closest to you, and had some more empathy. The TB gave you a different perspective, along with the downfall of the gang. Whether you would have developed it if you were sick or not doesn’t really matter when you are looking at the historical facts.”

“...Guess I can kinda understand that,” Arthur replied, watching as some more buildings started to pass. “Is this Strawberry?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “It’s definitely more than that little town you’re probably used to, but it’s still not much. A little too touristy, but some people settled here a little further out. Me included.”

It was a nice little town, though. You had seen more than enough wedding parties pass through to have celebrations and photo-shoots in the mountains. Retirees and vacation homes. It was far from the little town you saw in the grainy photographs in the town’s local museum. There was a lot more ‘life’ in Valentine an hour or so away. They had always retained their status as a farming town.

As much as you associated Valentine with your ex, you also knew their little summer end festival was coming up. Fireworks, camping, horseback riding, and dancing. You had always enjoyed it as a kid. Went on a couple dates to the festival itself over the years. A part of you wondered if it changed much. It might be worth going to. You figured it could be worth asking Arthur about, even if he didn’t seem the type to like crowds.

Still, after the small conversation about the gang and historical legacies, he didn’t speak up too much outside of asking the odd question about where the two of you were or how long it would take.

As much as you tried not to show it, you were nervous to show him Beaver Hollow. You had no idea what to expect, but you wanted him to do what he wished.

Arthur was placed in your care for a reason, you figured you might have to let him lead every now and again.

****

It was about 3 am when a voice cut through your sleep-addled brain, causing you to stir somewhat.

It took you a moment to register the unfamiliar surroundings of the dark motel room, an air conditioner in the window humming quietly in the background. Shifting you noticed Arthur leaning down toward you, hand on your shoulder. At your waking, he removed his hand from your shoulder, shifting to let you sit up with a yawn.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ain’t an emergency. Just…well, I’m starvin’.”

“Oh,” you replied with a small, somewhat breathless chuckle.

You both had been driving all day and finally reached a small town a few minutes from Beaver Hollow. The motel wasn’t exactly glamorous and didn’t offer much in the way of food. You figured you would just sneak out in the early morning to get some breakfast for the both of you and stop on the way back for a proper meal. You had ordered whatever room service they had there, but it wasn’t exactly appetizing. So, as much as you weren’t expected to be woken up, you probably should have expected that.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, gathering yourself up to a stand before digging around in your jacket for some change, “I think there’s a vending machine down the hall, I’ll get us something to eat. Hang tight.”

The wooded area had gotten significantly cooler after the sun had gone down, though the time of year still had it feeling pretty warm at night. The woods up near Strawberry were pretty, along with the mountains, but the forest out here was dense and almost dark. You recalled Arthur making a comment that it was worse back in his time, and you could believe that.

Making your way across the cool flooring of the balcony of the second floor, you approached the machine to buy a couple chips and snacks. Looking at it now, you realized that maybe you should have made more of an effort to feed yourselves. Even if you could sense the amount of nervousness that hung over the both of you.

Grabbing the food and stopping to purchase some bottled water, you wandered back toward the room.

Arthur was almost a silhouette in the darkness of the room as you closed the door behind you, but at least he was awake and sitting up. Turning on the lamp on the table between the two beds, you passed him some of the food.

“This is beef jerky and some chips,” you said, watching as he took them from you and turned them over in his hands with a somewhat confused expression.

“Everythin’ come wrapped up like this?” he asked, lifting the jerky package as you found a small chuckle escaping you.

“Mostly,” you replied, “If you want something to eat that’s quick and easy, it’ll probably come in a package like that.”

“Well…thank you,” Arthur replied, which you returned with a small, tired nod of your head as you started to eat. It was purely junk, but late at night like this you didn’t particularly care.

Though, Arthur at least seemed particular about the jerky, which you figured probably struck him as familiar. At least, somewhat. You didn’t know what he ate in a day, but most of the time he didn’t complain about the food you cooked him. Unless it really was something he had never put together before. Though, you figured his exhaustion might be making him quiet.

You had been hoping to sleep through the night and just head out into the big day tomorrow. It gave your mind a chance to wander, and you found yourself glancing up at him again.

“So, what are you expecting tomorrow?” you asked, “With the tour and…?”

“Ain’t sure,” Arthur replied after a moment, seeming more preoccupied with digging around for the last of his snack for a moment. “I guess…just to see. I remember a lot about that camp, but obviously…not what happened after.”

“It’s just…” you started, trailing off as you tried to gather your thoughts, “I’m worried about you, y’know? How you’ll handle it. It’s one thing to talk about it, but…seeing your own grave. That would be a lot for anybody.”

“I’m the one who wanted t’see it,” Arthur replied, glancing up at you, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“See, I just can’t,” you replied in some light humor, but there was a touch of seriousness to your tone, “I mean…Francis clearly knew…or knows, more about the outcome of this whole thing than I do. He dropped you here, at this specific time and with me, for a reason. So, I guess I feel some responsibility. I just hope in you wanting to do this, it won’t…leave you worse off than you already are.”

“I ain’t gonna pretend I know anythin’ ‘bout that whole…time travel business, but…” Arthur trailed off, glancing toward the closed bathroom door in thought. “I dunno. You didn’t ask for this, I certainly didn’t. If there’s a way to make this easier, some way to get back…maybe I’d find it here.”

“Arthur…” you started, leveling him with a sympathetic stare as you tried to find a way to say what you wanted to say without hurting him too much. “I don’t…I don’t think there is a way for you to go back. I know Francis set this whole thing up, but at this point…in both your timelines, you’re…”

“Dead,” Arthur said, finishing your thought with a small nod, “Then…guess maybe seein’ the grave might put the ideas outta my head.”

“I’m sorry…” you said around a small sigh, reaching across to place a comforting hand on his knee, “I mean, I can’t say anything with certainty but looking at this as rationally as I can…well, I doubt if there is a way, it’ll be here.”

“I still wanna see it,” Arthur replied after a moment, glancing back at you as you removed your hand from his knee and leaned back against the headboard of your bed.

“Then we’ll see it,” you replied with a short nod, “I’m not saying we shouldn’t.”

“I know. I…I appreciate this,” Arthur said, which made you give him a small grin.

“I’m still figuring everything out, too, but…well, I want to do what you feel is important to you,” you explained, “Even if I can’t wrap my head around it, I’ll help.”

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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