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#and he ends up first of all usually just a massive douchebag not sure what that's about. But a guy who he would in canon HATE 😭
shopcat · 11 months
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i think in the hamster wheel of my mind a big part of where people go wrong with eddie and his shitty garage band as an extension is that they for some bizarre reason think he's gene simmons metal when he's jack black metal. heavy metal. he's tenacious d metal. he's school of rock. he's stoner lord of the rings metal he nearly wore blue jeans and plaid. jack black literally in real life once said eddie was the best character bc he's heavy metal like him. LOOK AT THIS
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#🍦#answer it's bc people think he's some mishmash of all alternative scenes without any actual knowledge of where the mashing occurs 😭#eddie is . a heavy metal guy. A cool one. a nice one even. he likes rock and roll#it's so funny when ppl try and describe it and they've never heard the stuff he actually listens to in their lives for some reason#literally so much of the appeal of eddie's character within his subculture is that its theatrical and dramatic but its still grounded#he's very alternative and Out There but he's still just some guy. he's not wearing spiked leather jackets#in fact he's not wearing any of the other kinds of leather jackets i've seen people say he would ... TO ME#sts#if u haven't seen the clip he then proceeds to air guitar the MoP melody then shouts heavy metal is everywhere#i don't even know how to explain this bc it's like ... okay#the general .. VIBE? aestheticsm? is kind of similar to what people sometimes portray but they're missing thst it's tongue in cheek#like it's like that buff poster of him being this anachronistic homage to heavy metal album covers#fire and satanic imagery and skulls and lightning and big drama and ROCK AND ROLL#it's rock and ROLL man...#and people r making him this weird sanitised dork LOL 😭 when he's a dork in a different more fun way.. imo#and it's not that those types of people don't exist and that they're not cool in their own way cuz they are sure but that's not THIS GUY#he is an 80S METALHEAD... and yeah i try and ground him in thinfs and poke and prod at it until it fits my own understanding of alternative#scenes better but that's bc i've had a hand in the punk scene for years and years#i dunno sometimes i feel like ppl r just not doing the full potential and then going way too hard in this super specific direction#and he ends up first of all usually just a massive douchebag not sure what that's about. But a guy who he would in canon HATE 😭#YOU ARE MAKING HIM A POSER. is what i'm saying#he is alwyas some guy before he's anything else and before he's that he's a 20 year old loser#you need to reflect this... You need to bottle it. ugh. ugh#so much of this reminds me of the time someone was like he would never wear PLAID#like are you kidding me. are you actually kidding me rn#ppl have this weird arstheticised mostly modern and mostly literallt just eboy Idea of what he'd wear it's crazy to me sorry#also it's ugly#i also think. this is so long lol . anyway . i also think going too ''authentic'' in the 80s metalhead direction also lands u w different#problems. my advice to people trying to write or draw alternative characters is they are People. before they are anything else#🍏
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letarasstuff · 3 years
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Ranting
(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)
Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team
Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct
Wordcount: 2.3k
✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.
Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.
So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.
It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.
A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.
The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.
Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.
It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.
“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”
At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”
Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.
On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.
“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.
To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.
Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.
The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”
Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”
“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.
“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.
This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).
“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”
Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.
“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.
“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”
After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.
Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.
Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.
“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.
Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.
When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.
Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.
“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?
I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.
(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.
After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”
Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.
The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.
Taglist:
All works:
@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner
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Harder than the liquor I pour
Pairing: JJ x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: After losing his best friend, JJ has trouble coping with the loss.
Warnings: Mention of alcohol abuse, mentions of panic attacks
Available on: AO3
A/N: Just a short piece because I couldn’t get it out of my head how JJ was gripping his chest during the first episode. Poor boy :(
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You hadn’t been able to find him for the last three days.
Three days too many, you were worried about him and had looked all over the island for him.
You checked all of his usual places and he was nowhere to be found. Not even a single sign of him. Hell, you even asked Luke about him but of course that douchebag of a father didn’t know where his own son was at. Something you had expected but the worry in your bones made you do stupid decisions.
The wind was blowing through your hair as you rode your bike through the last bit of light the sun would give you.
The first day that he didn’t answer your text or came to visit you, you thought he maybe needed some space. 
The second day he had been missing you had asked Pope and Kie if they knew anything but they also came up empty handed. Kiara had been grounded by her parents and Pope had been busy helping out his father, both of them trying to deal with the grief in their own way, so they couldn’t help you look. It was unusual but you would just do it on your own then.
Today, on the third day, you grew really worried. JJ was normally obsessed with you, in a good way of course. He kept coming over, wanting to talk to you and even after the loss of his best friend he had been at your house for multiple nights so you could give each other comfort.
And suddenly, no JJ to be found anymore.
You called his name out multiple times, looking left and right of the road, almost hoping you would just find him passed out in some ditch as long as he was alive and you could finally have him in your arms again.
He had been struggling ever since the accident. They hadn’t declared John B and Sarah as dead long after that. It had ripped him apart. You were hurting too but you only joined the Pogues later so you didn’t know them for too long, didn’t grow up with them. You did grow up with Sarah though but didn’t see her often, you had only gotten close when she joined the Pogues too.
You got off your bike, backside starting to hurt from using it all day long. A frustrated sigh left your throat as you pulled around to the Chateau, not in the mood to go home where no one would be waiting for you. Your parents were out on some business trip, thinking you would be okay and they would be back when school started. That’s at least what they had said, who knew when they would really be back.
A frown was forming on your forehead when you saw light at the old house. You threw your bike to the ground and walked over to the entrance, hope swelling in your breast.
“JJ? Is that you?” You asked carefully, not wanting to get stabbed by a robber. Not that there was anything to rob in here. 
“y/n?” The voice came from the bathroom and you walked over there with fast steps. JJ’s voice sounded hoarse and when you saw him, he was kneeling over the toilet, pale as a white wall.
“What happened?” You asked him when you kneeled down beside him. He was just hanging over the toilet, one arm on the top, his face sweaty, hair wet.
“Don’t know, you tell me,” he replied with a stupid grin, eyes half hooded as if he wasn’t really present. A whiff of alcohol came rushing towards you as soon as he had opened his mouth and you coughed.
“I think you had too much, buddy.” You ran a hand through his hair, holding the strands between your fingers for a moment. He was really just covered in sweat. “Come here.”
You reached under his arms and tried to lift him up but he had trouble standing.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled and pushed you away with more force than you expected. You almost stumbled over but were able to keep it together.
“JJ, I was looking for three days for you. Where have you been?” You asked him as you followed his weak figure to the bedroom he used to stay in where he sat down on the bed. Around the room were empty cans of different kinds of alcohol.
“Here, there, everywhere,” he said with a grin and started to giggle. He did act stupid when he had been drinking but you’ve never seen him drinking this much. Normally it was just beer but there was some pretty hard stuff around here and he seemed to have mixed them together in his body.
“You really need to rest.” You chose to ignore his stupid answer, he didn’t seem able to have a normal conversation with you about his whereabouts right now anyway.
“Why?” He asked as if he didn’t know what was going on. As if he wasn’t drunk out of his ass.
“Because you’re drunk as hell, your whole body is covered in sweat, you’ve been missing for three days and you just clogged the toilet with your puke.” You listed these things while trying not to sound mad or worried. He shouldn’t focus on your emotions right now but on his own.
“Oh so that means I need rest? Maybe I just needed to get away for a while,” he said with a shrug and grabbed a full can of beer which you quickly snatched out of his hand.
Within a moment he was standing right in front of you, invading your personal space and looking quite angry. He wasn’t standing straight by any means, swaying a bit.
You clenched your jaw and shook your head. “No more alcohol.”
He growled at you and shook his head, trying to take the can from you.
“y/n, come on. I need it,” he said through gritted teeth and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Why? Is that what you’ve been doing the last few days? Just drinking wherever you were? It’s not a solution,” you told him with a stern voice, shaking his head slightly to underline your point.
“If you had paid attention in chemistry, you would know that alcohol is definitely a solution.” He grinned smugly at you and this time you were raising both eyebrows in disbelief.
“I can’t even remember the last time you have attended chemistry class,” you huffed out, trying not to laugh out of frustration.
“Maybe I’m just smart.” He leaned down close to your lips but you knew he was just trying to reach around your body so he could get the can from behind your back, so you took a step backwards and heard him growl in frustration.
“You for sure are, I wish you’d acknowledge that more often.” Pope had probably told him that whole solution thing at some point. It at least sounded like something that would come from him. Which didn’t mean that JJ wasn’t smart of course, he really was but often his instinct kicked in before his brain did and he ended up making stupid choices.
“Please, rest,” you pleaded with him and he pouted at you before letting himself fall back on the bed behind him.
His eyes were full of sadness and his face was tired. You felt so bad for him, especially because he would have the worst hangover tomorrow.
“If you don’t, I’ll have to tie you down, you know?” You added the words quickly, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes anymore. You couldn’t handle it when he was so sad that it was tearing you apart too but sadly, this had been the case too often.
“Fine,” he groaned and lay down, turning his back towards you. 
For a long moment you just stood there before placing the can on the shelf behind you. You then took a few steps forward to him and grabbed the nearby blanket, throwing it over him and putting it up to his neck. 
Suddenly his hand grabbed yours and his warm hand wrapped around yours, cold rings pressing against your skin.
“You gonna stay?” His voice sounded almost unsure but you just let out a little happy snort before giving him a nod which he wasn’t able to see.
“Sure will. Now sleep.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
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He had been strangely quiet this morning. You weren’t sure if it was because he felt bad for last night or because he had a massive hangover. Maybe both.
You really wanted to talk to him about last night though. There was no way to avoid it but first, breakfast.
Both of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, not saying a word, just eating the food you had prepared.
“Listen,” he suddenly started and put his milk roll down, only half eaten. 
You tilted your head to the side and stopped eating too, waiting for him to say what he wanted.
JJ closed his eyes and took a deep breath before shaking his head and getting up, walking down to the yard. You followed him quietly, not wanting to push him because you knew how he would get if provoked.
Your gaze followed his, looking toward the water.
“I just can’t...I can’t handle it.” He didn’t need to put any context around his words, you knew exactly what he was talking about.
The blonde boy was missing his best friend, his brother and had troubles coping with his alleged death.
You put your hand on his left shoulder and he took his right hand and placed it on yours, enjoying the comfort in silence for a moment.
“Ever since...the accident. I’ve been drinking more than I should. Alone, when the three of you weren’t there. I just tried to kill these feelings inside of me. All this pain.” His words were dripping in pain and if you’d be looking at his face right now, you were sure you could see tears starting to build.
You slightly moved so you stood in front of him, indeed seeing his glassy eyes but he knew he didn’t need to hold back with you. You loved him and he loved you.
“You don’t have to do this alone, I’m right here,” you said and gave him a crooked smile, trying to comfort him somehow even though you knew it would be hard.
“My chest...it’s been aching. Like sometimes when I’m alone and I think about the whole thing.” He put a hand over his chest, right above his heart, gripping his shirt as if he tried to grip his beating heart. “I start to sweat, I shiver, my heart is racing and I feel sick, I can’t breathe.”
You knew that feeling too well even though you’ve never told him before.
“Those are signs of a panic attack, JJ,” you told him and moved closer, pulling him into an embrace. “Drinking makes it worse.”
“Hm.” He only replied with this sound and was silent for a moment before he wrapped his arms around you too, taking a deep breath.
Your brother used to have a drinking problem in his teenage years and soon after, he had one panic attack after another. You had experienced them oneself a couple of times, the feeling of a tight chest, of not being able to breathe.
It wasn’t something you wanted your boyfriend to experience but yet here you were.
“How do I stop them?” he asked you and leaned back a little to look at your face, not letting go of you in the process.
“Breathing, mostly. Don’t fight it. Call me, I’ll be there for you,” you said calmly, hoping your calmness would somehow go over to him.
“I just wish he was here with me. Us. Both of them,” he sighed and you nodded, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his nose.
“We’ll get through this, okay? Together. Kie and Pope too. When school starts we can’t hide anymore and have to face those looks on their faces. That’s why you’ve been hiding so much, isn’t it?” You knew him well enough to know this.
His jaw clenched and you knew you were right. It terrified you too. Those looks of classmates and teachers. Looks that would say ‘They were friends with dead criminals’ and ‘I wonder if they knew that John B was going to kill Peterkin’ even though none of it was true. Some would even feel pity for them. ‘They lost their friends’ and ‘It must be so hard on them’ but to be honest, none of their opinions mattered. Most of them were shallow people anyway.
You rested your forehead against his chest, trying to get rid of those thoughts of the future. Just like him, you didn’t want to think about it but it was important for him to know that you’d be there with every step you took.
“y/n?” He said your name with such tenderness in his voice that it made you smile.
You looked up at him again and found him smiling slightly.
“I’m so glad to have you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said and leaned down to place a kiss on your lips, a kiss that you immediately responded to.
It always gave you butterflies when he kissed you. Normally he was kissing you roughly, sometimes he bit your bottom lip but this time, it was soft and sweet and almost pleading you not to leave him. 
You wouldn’t.
“I love you,” you said as you pulled back to take a breath.
“I love you too.” He put a hand on your head, patting it slightly. It was a sweet gesture, one he didn’t do too often.
“So no more drinking? At least not alone and especially not hiding somewhere for three days so I get worried sick, okay?” you asked him, it had terrified you too much, thinking he would do something stupid.
“I promise. I’ll always call you before I want to get shitfaced.” He couldn’t keep himself from grinning a little and you rolled your eyes at him with a grin yourself.
“Alright, let’s get the place cleaned up. No need to leave evidence of your one-man-party.”
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fific7 · 3 years
Text
Ticket to Ride - Part 1
Billy Russo x Reader
A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance. Billy gets a taste of his own medicine.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.
*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.
(My photo edit)
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»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕀'𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕕, 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕪, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪
𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖
𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖
𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
You were grabbing armfuls of clothes out of the wardrobe and dumping them into the three massive suitcases you’d laid open on the floor. If any of your friends had seen you at that point, they’d have said you looked like a woman possessed.
Finally, the wardrobe was empty of your clothes, and you moved on to the chest of drawers and then the bathroom. The contents were shovelled into a couple of large backpacks, as were various other bits and bobs from bedside table drawers and shelving units. In a surprisingly short space of time, you’d packed up everything that belonged to you in this damned apartment.
That left you just two very quick things to do, and you could then somehow get all this luggage downstairs into the lobby and get the hell out of Dodge.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
The receptionist at the airport hotel you were booking into looked at the amount of luggage you had with you, and studied your face again carefully. No doubt she was wondering if you were a celebrity. Obviously deciding that there was an outside chance that you were but she just hadn’t recognised you, you were given an upgrade on the room without even asking for one.
Plopping down onto the bed once you’d got into your room, you rummaged around in one of the backpacks until you found your laptop, connecting it to the hotel WiFi. Opening one of the major airlines’ websites, you began scrolling through the destinations offered from JFK.
So many to choose from!
Now to plan your getaway.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Billy Russo got back home really late. He was going to be in trouble, no doubt about it... he hadn’t even texted because he hadn’t wanted to face any questions about what he was doing and when he’d be home.
Opening the apartment door, he was surprised to find it in darkness. Oh... had she gone to bed already? That wasn’t a good sign. He switched on the lights and immediately noticed a sheet of paper and a photo frame lying prominently on the kitchen island.
Walking over, he didn’t even have to pick up the note to read it. There was only one word, printed large.
“Goodbye.”
His stomach knotted and then he looked at the photo frame lying next to it. The photo was the one which was usually on the bedside table, a favourite of his.... she was sitting on a bar stool and he was behind her, his arms right around her. Both laughing into the lens as the photo was taken.
The photo was still in the frame, but it was torn in two.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Finally, by the next morning you’d decided on London. You’d never been, and quite honestly wanted to lose yourself in another big city. Flight booked, an AirBnB apartment booked for two weeks and you didn’t need a visa, so you were all set.
Now just one more thing to do. You opened up the box containing your new mobile phone and fitted the SIM card into it. After about twenty minutes of entering contact details and various apps onto it, you took your original phone and called Karen.
Her bored voice answered so you knew she was already at work, but she perked up when she heard your voice.
“Hi honey! How’re things? Wanna meet up for lunch today? I’m bored and I need a good gossip.”
You were a freelance copy writer and so you were your own boss. There were one or two assignments you were currently working on, but you could work from anywhere you could get a WiFi connection, so that wasn’t a problem.
“Uhhh, sadly not darling, I’m flying to London this afternoon.” You could hear her intake of breath, then she squealed, “Oh you lucky woman, how’d you manage to land an assignment like that?”
You gave a bitter little laugh, “I’ve left Billy.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Billy had sat on his sofa for a long time after he’d seen the note and photo. At first he’d just had to sit down, overwhelmed, as he had the most horrible feeling that his world was crashing down around his ears.
She was the one person who made him feel safe and loved. But he knew only too well that he’d been walking the line recently what with the situation at Anvil and having to keep Madani sweet. He hadn’t actually crossed the line, but he’d had to make sure she thought that he would, and soon at that. Would he have crossed it? He’d need to get back to himself on that question.
Of course he’d mentioned none of this to his girl. But obviously - somehow - he mustn’t have done a very good job at being discreet because she’d guessed something was up. And left him.
He’d poured himself a large whisky and downed it in one, before going over to the window and looking out forlornly at the city lights. Then he called Frank.
When he heard the gruff growl on the other end of the line, he said, “She’s left me, Frankie,” and realised how hoarse his voice sounded.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
“What?!” screeched Karen. You hadn’t divulged your recent secret fears to her, hoping against hope that you were wrong when you’d started noticing little things over the past few weeks. But now you gave her a full rundown of it all.
More and more claims of ‘working late’ and ‘being very busy at work’.
Alcohol on his breath after he’d been on these ‘working late’ evenings.
A distinct smell of CK’s Eternity from a jumper he’d left crumpled up in a corner on the bedroom floor when he’d been out extra late one evening.
The final straw? You almost laughed when you thought about it, as it was such a cliché. A smear of dark red lipstick on the inside collar on one of his otherwise pristine white shirts. And another unmistakable whiff of Eternity.
You’d never be able to wear that damn perfume again.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Frankie had been suitably sympathetic to start with, but had then begun to berate Billy for being ‘a stupid asshole’ once he’d explained what he’d been up to with Madani. “I didn’t sleep with her!” Billy grumbled, “....just messin’ around. You know we need to know what she knows.”
“Yeah, but women ain’t stupid, Russo! Were you goin’ home reeking of booze and another woman’s perfume?” Billy said nothing at first, just grunted but then said, “Maybe. Yeah.. probably.” “See!” said Frank, “...you’re a stupid asshole!” “I mean, she didn’t even challenge me on it!” Frank started laughing, “So that makes it her fault, huh!? You’re a piece of work, Russo.” “No, no.... I just meant, aren’t you supposed to have arguments about that kinda stuff first? She just up and left me!”
“I don’t blame her,” said Frank, “...and you know she’s not the type to take any BS from you, Bill. She probably thought it wasn’t worth her time listenin’ to you tryna give excuses for the inexcusable.”
Billy was reminded by this that one of Frank’s pet peeves was infidelity. “But I didn’t cheat!” said Billy forcefully. “Whaddya do, kiss her?” “Yeah.” “Feel her up a bit?” “Mmhuh.” “That’s cheatin’ in my book, Russo.” Billy realised he was hanging his head in shame, and quickly looked up and out of the window again.
“I dunno what to do, Frankie.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
You’d given Karen your new number and told her on pain of death not to pass it on to anyone, even Frank and especially not to Billy. She’d assured you she wouldn’t, and neither would she tell them where you were headed.
She’d been fuming at Billy, and you wouldn’t like to be in his shoes the next time she happened to meet up with him. Her rage had been quite spectacular and she was really, really pissed that Billy hadn’t even tried to contact you. You didn’t say anything to her, but secretly you wondered if he’d actually spent the night with his side piece on this occasion and hadn’t even seen your note yet. Jealousy and anger began to take over and you stood up abruptly, determined that thoughts of that douchebag weren’t going to invade your brain.
You took the SIM card out of the phone, shut it down and tucked it away in one of your bags. Gathering all your stuff together, you began to get ready to leave the room..
Can’t wait to get on that plane, you thought.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Frankie rang Billy back a couple of hours later. “Micro tracked her phone,” he said without preamble. “Where is she? At Karen’s?” Billy asked anxiously. There was a pause, then, “Nah, Bill. She’s at JFK. And her phone’s switched off now.”
Billy, standing next to the window again, yelled, “Fuck!” before leaning his head against the cold glass. “Can Micro find out which flight’s she’s booked on, Frankie?” “He can try, but it’ll involve some hacking so it might take a little longer.” He paused again, before continuing, “And avoid Karen. She’s out for your blood.”
Billy sighed, “She’s spoken to her?” “Yeah, course she has, Bill. She knows more than she’s tellin’ me of course, but I’m not even gonna try askin’ her. Waste of time.” “It’s okay, I get it, Frankie. I wouldn’t ask you to. But if she does say anythin’.....” “I’ll let you know,” Frank finished the sentence for him and hung up.
Billy looked out of the window and then up into the sky. She wanted to get away from him so badly, she’d got a plane ticket and was about to fly.
He just prayed he’d be able to find her before she took off.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
London
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years
Text
AU where Deidara becomes inexplicably fond of 'Tobi' to the point of just going 'fuck it' and following Obito into crazytown and, if Obito survives The Kaguya Nonsense, he now has a bitchy art school grad student following him around like "you fucked with my head for a year after making people pressgang me into a terrorist cell, now it's my turn to fuck with you." This is partly because this one post lives in my head rent-free.
(Brainstormed on discord with help from @britishassistant​. Please note that while I do usually headcanon Dei as nonbinary, this brainstorm kept to he/him pronouns and referring to him as a boy.)
Confession that this arose because I keep imagining 'person travels back to the Founders Era and wreaks havoc via Confusions, using different characters capable of 'why the FUCK' reactions every time, pinged on T7+Obito but Obito had to bring Deidara and everyone Regrets, because... boom.
Nobody wants Deidara involved, except Deidara. People especially do not want Deidara and Sai in the same room, because between Deidara's hands and Sai's 'commentary,' someone's going to get murdered. -- (Deidara is of the opinion that he should be involved in everything where there is the potential for blowing something or someone up. Deidara was sort of invited, in that Obito refuses to leave him unsupervised, but nobody really wants him, like, doing things.)
Team Seven is trying to help push a peace treaty through for the Senju and Uchiha. Keeping an eye out for Zetsu, Obito's talking Madara around as the person who actually knows him best, Naruto is Vibing with Hashirama on a level nobody hoped they'd reach, Sakura's smoothing ruffled feathers by healing the dying, Yamato is demonstrating Mokuton as evidence of something, and Kakashi has his hand over Sai's mouth so they don't cause an international incident. Sasuke isn't helping, just kind of in a stare-off with Izuna.
And then Obito says, "Wait, shit. We're missing a blonde." "Where's your idiot, Obito?" "He's not my idiot, Bakashi, he just--" BOOM "Ah, shit." [cue maniacal laughter in the middle distance]
"This is why I told you to keep an eye on him while I talked to Madara!" "I told Sasuke to do it!” "Why do you expect Sasuke to do anything you tell him to do?"
Part of what I was going for was: 1. Deidara and Obito have a preexisting relationship that angles heavily towards mutual antagonism due to the whole Tobi thing. 2. Deidara is both completely unhinged and capable of mass destruction, which means he's perfectly set to Cause Problems. And of course 3. This means a role reversal where Obito finds the shoe on the other foot because now he’s the one trying to rein in Deidara.
Obito is 100% done with Deidara, but this asshole is kind of his responsibility? Like? What's he gonna do, hand the kid over to Onoki? Nah, bruh, his douchebag teenage sidekick deserves better than Iwa. -- (Deidara does not, in fact, deserve better than Iwa.) -- It’s like Deidara is his kid or something, like he knows he’s hellspawn but he’s Obito’s hellspawn.
Madara: You came to convince us of peace, yet you bring-- Obito: No, shut up, it's better than leaving him to his own devices, at least this way I can stop him. Hashirama: How do we convince the Daimyou this is a good idea? Madara: We need to make him think there's a bigger threat, maybe? One that he can't fight without united shinobi clans to hire, rather than pitting us against one another to maintain his economic dominance. Hashirama: But there aren't any bi-- Deidara: I VOLUNTEER
Obito: So what are we going to do? Deidara: Blow up buildings belonging to the rich and powerful. Obito: And what are we not going to do? Deidara: ...blow up the innocent? Like kids? And poor people? Obito: Okay, yes. That's pretty much it. Deidara: Wait, can I blow up a monastery? Obito: Do you want the Shinigami to come after our heads?! No!!! Deidara: What if it's a Jashinist temple? Obito: We have seen evidence that one exists, do you really want to risk it?
Hashirama, full of 😀 : I brought dango! Deidara, to Obito: Are you going to eat it with your eye again. Madara, Izuna, all the Uchiha: [turn to stare] Obito: Literally why do I put up with you.
(Deidara is that one kid who Delights in telling everyone about the weird and dumb shit Obito pulled as Tobi.)
Deidara: Hey, dipshit, you wanna-- Obito:
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Also, Kakashi has his four brats so Obito gets to keep Deidara. It’s only fair. -- Kakashi at least has Tenzo to coparent, and some of his kids are well-behaved... ish. They try, at least. Obito's just got a Hell Child who actively delights in causing mischief and mayhem. -- The most Naruto's going to do is dye your hair in your sleep. Sai makes dick jokes and Sakura punches things, but overall, they're not bad kids! Sasuke is. Sasuke. But that's okay, that's why there's a solid five people in that team to handle his bullshit.
Whereas Obito is stuck. With an art school grad student. -- Deidara is contextually the epitome of "I think I will cause problems on purpose." -- (Deidara... is what Tenzo would call “a bad influence.”)
Btw? Keep Sai and Deidara away from each other. Kakashi learns that the hard way. -- "Captain, the art kids are fightingggggg!"
Kakashi: Obito get a handle on your disaster Obito: DON’T YOU TALK ABOUT MY BOY THAT WAY
Jumping back a tiny bit though, Obito regularly asks Yamato to use his Mokuton to seal up Deidara's chakra for a bit. (Is this how it works in canon? Probably not, I think it's just bijuu chakra, but I also Do Not Care.)
But honestly, when it comes to Team Seven, Deidara is that one older cousin at family reunions that teaches you how to hotwire a car. -- Deidara is okay with Naruto and Sakura, ish. -- He antagonizes Sai in a way that ends in tears. -- He. Has to be kept away from Sasuke. For a variety of reasons, most of which have to do with Eyes and Explosions and Itachi.
Sasuke barely remembers who Deidara is, he’s just grumpy he couldn’t bring anyone from Taka with him.
Meanwhile Taka is just. They’re assholes? Taka bitches enough to hunt him down. They excuse it with "Juugo needs you" -- "I'm in a different dimension, eighty years in the past, how did you..." -- "Science ninja. Best sensor on the continent." -- "Also we asked Orochimaru for help." -- "Yeah, we asked Orochimaru for help."
Taka being there signals a marked improvement in Sasuke’s demeanor and cooperation, and Kakashi just resigns himself to having four more kids. -- Juugo is a godsend when he's not being set off into a homicidal rage. And he apologizes! Meanwhile, Karin and Suigetsu are The Worst.
T7+Obito and Deidara have been in the past and bullying the clans into a peace for like a week and then they just hear MASSIVE ROARING a mile away and Sasuke's like "Oh, hey, it's my idiots." -- Sasuke’s grinning for the first time in weeks. (It’s tiny and barely perceptible but it’s there.) -- I don't know that Taka could actually help at all, but they sure can cause more problems. Unlike Deidara, most of them are not intentional.
Suigetsu: Hey, Sasuke, so I know that Deidara guy tried to kill you... Sasuke: He did? Suigetsu: --but would you be mad if I tried to hook up with him? Sasuke: I don't care, knock yourself out.
(Suigetsu is the kind of man that wears tearaway pants just to reveal rainbow leggings that say "I'M GAY" on them. If Suigetsu and Sasuke didn't have at least one 'no homo' make-out session... well, I wouldn't put money on it either way, but I do think it's a valid reading of the text.)
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Deidara: What's it like when Obito actually decides to be serious? Kakashi: Uhhhhhhhhhhhh Obito, previously:
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Kakashi: Trauma. It's trauma.
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comphersjost · 4 years
Text
More Than This ➸ Mikko Rantanen
its 3 am and i couldnt wait to post this. its self indulgent, all of it
You have a thing for bigger guys. And Mikko, well, he takes notice.
word count: 3.9k+
warnings: slight angst? if you squint, reader cant get off, size kink (obviously), smut, thigh riding, mutual pining if you squint, sorta best friend!jt
masterlist
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You didn't know how you let JT talk you into letting him swipe through your Bumble account. And you definitely don't know how he managed to get you to let him do it while displaying your phone on his Apple TV. And what you absolutely, totally, completely did not know, was how you let him keep going when Ryan, EJ, Gabe, Mikko, Naz and some of the wives and girlfriends arrived at his and Josty’s shared apartment. 
You'd known JT for years, so your dating life wasn't exactly a new subject for you. Besides, it had seemed fun at the time, the group of you lounging around the living room as JT swipes through Bumble for you.
“Hey what about this guy? He's cute!” Gabe says. JT scrolls through the guy’s profile.
“Wait,” you said, stopping him from scrolling any further. “6’4? Swipe right.”
The group erupts into laughter at your words, though you were being completely serious. JT swipes right anyways without scrolling through the rest of “Andy”’s profile, the group cheering as you match. You lock eyes with Mikko, completely by accident, and the dark look in his eyes tells you he knows something you don't. He stands, announcing he's going to get a drink from the kitchen, but you don't miss the smirk tugging at his lips as you gulp, your eyes travel up his hulking frame. 
Your attention is pulled away by Naz saying something about a guy’s bio being “ultimate douchebag vibes”, and that’s when you decide it's been enough. You snatch your phone back from JT, disconnecting from the screen mirroring despite the protests around you. 
“You guys have snooped into my dating life enough,” you laugh, “All thanks to Comph here, but that’s enough, seriously.”
With a grumble, the group relents, allowing the conversation to progress past “6’4? Swipe right.”
-
You were staring again. 
You knew it too. You also knew that if you didn't stop soon - like, now - you were gonna get caught. Again. Just as a thought goes through your head, you feel an elbow digging into your side. 
“If you want to fuck him, just shoot your shot.” You turn to glare at Ashley, finally tearing your eyes away from the blonde brute on the other side of the bar. You reach over to smack JT with the back of your hand as he starts laughing.
“Fuck off, dude,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Even if I wanted to - which I don't, by the way - I couldn't.”
“Says who?” JT says incredulously. “Besides, don't you have a thing for big dudes?” As your oldest friend of the group (though he wasn't always your friend for as long as you've known him, he was your brother’s friend from college before you moved to Denver), JT had the most shit to talk. 
“Says my contract with your team, Jimothy.” The ginger grimaces at the nickname, but lets it slide, opting out of his usual reaction of punching the guys in the arms when they called him that. Instead he laughs again at your defensive expression and your avoidance of his question, turning to call the rest of the guys back to your table. Your glare intensifies as he gives you a shit-eating grin. 
“Technically you don't know that it says that. What's the worst that could happen, Y/N?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was so unlike him. Drunk JT was the worst you thought. “I'm sure he’d be down for a -” he pauses dramatically “night of passion.” 
You gag at the way he says it, at the same time you here an accented voice say.
“Who wants a night of passion?” 
You tense, not having realized the rest of the team had actually come back so quickly. You force yourself to relax and paint a playful smile on your face, turning to look at the Fin. 
“Nothing, Jimothy’s just being stupid as usual,” you say dryly, scooting over as Mikko motions for you to move further in the booth. You pretend not to notice Ashley’s shit-eating grin as Naz rolls his eyes at her antics. Luckily no one at the table says anything incriminating before the boys start up a new conversation. 
In the chaos you almost don't notice Mikko stretching, placing an arm behind you on the booth. But you do notice, and it makes you stiffen. Mikko feels your body go rigid, glancing down at you with a confused pout. He leans down for a moment until his mouth is by your ear. 
“Are you okay?” he murmurs as his hand drops to caress your shoulder in what you guessed was supposed to be a comforting manner. 
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” you lie easily, avoiding his gaze. “Just a little on edge.” 
If it was possible his voice lowers, making you strain to hear him. “Just relax.” And - that really doesn't help, heat settling in your gut at the words. 
“Actually -” you say abruptly, finally meeting his eyes for the first time that night, “I think I’m gonna go home. I’m just not feeling it.” 
You can see Ashley watching you closely from the corner of your eye, but you don't turn to look at her. Instead you raise an eyebrow expectantly, motioning for Mikko to get up out of the booth so you could leave. He looks surprised by your sudden desire to leave - lips parted in confusion and what you thought was a hint of hurt. 
With a reluctant look on his face, Mikko slides out of the booth, stepping aside to let you slip past. You send a quick wave to the table, and after a brief goodbye, head towards the exit to wait for your Uber. You assumed Mikko sat back down as you walked away, so it surprised you when you heard Mikko call after you just as you'd begun to walk towards the curb. 
“Y/N! Wait!” 
Your step falters for a moment as you glance over your shoulder, pausin to let Mikko catch up with you. He reaches for you for a moment, before pulling back. 
“Are you okay? Seriously.” 
And like, you hate the concern in his voice. Stupid you think. Stupid accent and stupid pouty lips and stupid - 
Your thoughts are interrupted by Mikko repeating your name, softer this time, as he takes a step closer to you. Your breath hitches at you stare at him towering over you, trying to force yourself to think of anything other than how his massive hands would feel on your body. 
“Yeah,” you finally choke out, taking a step backwards towards your waiting Uber. “Yeah, I’m good, just - I'm just tired and have a lot on my plate right now.” 
You're reaching for the door before he can respond, barely catching his faint “Text me when you get home safe!” before the door is closed. You pretend not to hear him. The driver glances at you in the mirror quizzically, seemingly wanting to ask how you left Mikko Rantanen outside of a bar without so much as a goodbye, but thinks better of it, turning up the soft music on the radio as he begins the drive towards your apartment. 
You feel drained when you finally get home, showering and changing into more comfortable clothes as quickly as you can before crawling into bed. Your thoughts drift to Mikko as you close your eyes, the heat in your gut from before returning. You consider taking care of yourself, but considering you haven't been able to get off in weeks, the idea seems even more exhausting, so you let sleep overtake you. 
“You didn't text me.” 
You glance up from your laptop to see Mikko standing in the aisle of the plane, his eyebrows furrowed into a slight frown. 
“What?” you say dumbly, you stare up at him, forcing your attention away from one of his enormous hands as it curls around the back of the seat in front of you. You only succeed in noticing his thighs in his basketball shorts, the chiseled muscles making your mouth go dry.
“When you left yesterday,” he clarifies, pulling your gaze away from his thighs. “I told you to text me when you got home safe.” 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, oh.” 
You're taken aback by irritation in his tone - and slightly offended. Who was he to be annoyed with you? 
“Well, I was really tired, so…” you trail off, eyes falling back to your laptop screen. You hope he takes it as an end to the conversation, and luckily, he does. 
You feel bad for being short with him, but JT and Ashley’s teasing from the night before - and, let’s face it, from months before - was getting to you. You can't help but watch Mikko’s back as he retreats, heading back to the front of the plane where he usually sat. 
You see him slump in his seat, blonde curls barely visible over the backrest, and a pang of guilt shoots through you. It’s gone the moment you catch JT’s eye, flipping him off as he grins knowingly, before shaking your head and focusing on your work. 
You didn't have time to lust over Mikko. Not when you had the job that needed your complete focus. 
The flight is short, and you arrive in Edmonton faster than you thought you would. You try to ignore Mikko’s burning stare as the players and staff exit the plane, trying your best to tune into the animated story Josty was telling JT. 
You breathe a sigh of relief once you close the door to your hotel room, finally relaxing for the first time all day. The game wasn't until tomorrow, so you knew you had time to do what you wanted - which was absolutely nothing. 
And nothing you did, lounging around in your room watching Netflix and declining an offer from JT to go out with, well, everyone. It didn't help that you knew Mikko and Mark’s room was directly next to yours, but as you heard the chaos of a group of 30 grown men, and then some, heading out for the night, you relaxed a little more. 
An idea pops into your head when the noise finally fades, your hands slipping further down your body to rest above your shorts. You were tense, and needed release - desperately. You give in to yourself, slipping your fingers under your shorts and panties, gasping as your fingers slide through your folds. You're already wet, sensitive from not having been able to cum in weeks. 
A soft whimper escapes your lips as your fingertips find your clit, rubbing gently to work yourself up. You can't help the noises that escape your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet, but easing up when you remembered that everyone had gone out. 
Your breath quickens as you rub tight, fast circles on your cunt, your back arching. Your other hand finds your breast through your thin t-shirt, pulling and pinching at your nipple. The added sensation makes you moan loudly into the empty room. 
Your hand moves faster and faster in your panties as you pinch your nipple roughly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet - just in case. 
You're so so close, you can feel it. Your orgasm is right there, and it feels endless as you chase it. You move the hand that's playing with your breasts down to slip under your panties, sinking two fingers into your pussy. Your back arches even more at the feeling, whines escaping you now even with your lip between your teeth. You just - you need something to push you over the edge into you euphoria but - 
“Fuck!” you sob, your body collapsing back onto your bed as your hands cease their movements. You draw your hands out of your shorts, repeating “Fuck”, before resigning to the fact that you just can't cum. Tears slip down your cheeks as you attempt to catch your breath. It ached, how bad you needed to cum but you just couldn't. So you give up on, trying to find anything else to focus on. Only hours later did you find yourself falling into a restless sleep. 
The knock on your door makes you jump, the sound echoing in your empty apartment. You frown as you think Who the fuck is here this late? You'd only just gotten home and settled from your trip to Edmonton, finally relaxing on your couch with Netlix already pulled up and ready to browse through. You're so caught up in wondering who could be at your door that another three heavy knocks sound at the door. 
 Impatient much? you think bitterly as you make your way to the door. 
You nearly slam it shut again when you see who's on the other side. 
“Mikko,” you say, a questioning tone to your voice. “What are you-” 
“I heard you.” His words are abrupt, cutting your sentence off. You frown, not understanding what he means. You step aside to let him come in, and he doesn't hesitate before sweeping into your apartment, slipping his shoes off and taking a seat at your couch. 
You raise your eyebrows at Mikko’s boldness as you come to stand in front of him, about to ask him to clarify what exactly it was he heard, before he answers the question for you. 
“Last night. In Edmonton.” 
Your blood runs cold, but his voice lowers, thick with intention. 
“I could hear you, when you couldn't cum.” 
“I - I -” you stutter for a moment, “I thought everyone went out last night.” 
It's not a denial of what Mikko said, and he knows it. 
“I stayed behind,” he says simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes are dark, and you can't bring yourself to look away, no matter how badly you wanted to. 
“I…” You flush under his gaze, somehow both absolutely mortified by him hearing you, and curious to see what he would say. “And you're telling me this because…?” 
Mikko is silent for a few moments, mulling over his words. “Let me help you,” he finally says, his voice low and husky. “Let me help you cum.” 
You can't help the way you gasp, the desperation from the night before flaring up again. 
“Mikko I don't-” 
“Think it's a good idea?” he finishes, his hands coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. “I don't care. I want...I want you. I want this. I want to help you.” 
“Mikko…” 
You sound uncertain but he knows you've already made up your mind. You let out a yelp as he tugs you roughly into his lap, smashing his lips into yours. A moan escapes you immediately, god he was incredible. Mikko is big, he's so big that one of his arms wraps itself almost completely around your waist, the other coming up to cup your face, nearly covering half of it. You feel small in his lap, and you love it. 
His tongue darts in and out of your mouth, coaxing small noise from you as you grip his shoulders. It was better than you could have ever imagined, the way he bites your bottom lip and tugs back on it with a smile. You whine again as his giant hand falls to your ass, flexing over the flesh and squeezing. 
He pushes against your ass, guiding you to rock against him. You tear your lips away from him, head falling to his shoulder at the friction. Your brain is fried, unable to think of anything but the behemoth of a man in front of you. 
“God he's so painfully my type” you remember telling your friend when you first moved to Denver. You didn't tell her why. You didn't tell her it was because of his size. You didn't tell her it was because he was over a foot taller than you. And you definitely didn't tell her it was because you wanted him to use that size to his advantage with you. 
And use it he did, moving your body the way he wants against him as you whimper pathetically. Mikko maneuvers you so that you're seated on one of his massive thighs, your leggings doing next to nothing to provide a barrier between your cunt and his thigh. 
“Please,” you find yourself whining before you can stop yourself. The pressure of his leg against your clit makes you giddy, unable to think of anything but more more more. Mikko’s hand on your ass guides you, rocking your hips against him as the other caresses your hair. 
“That's it,” he spurs you on, accent thickening as he moves you, “Just like that, good girl. Feels good doesn't it?” 
You whimper again and nod against his neck, moving your hips even as he guides you. The friction feels delicious against your cunt, and you can already feel your orgasm building up. Mikko murmurs soft words of encouragement as you rut against him, the tent in his sweatpants growing tighter as more noises escape your throat. 
Logically, you knew Mikko’s size would likely match the size of his cock but - nothing could have prepared you for what you felt against your thigh as you rocked harder into him. His cock was straining against his sweats, thick and heavy as you pushed against him. 
Mikko’s hand disappears from your ass for a moment, before coming down again with a rough smack. You jolt at the sting and cry out as it only brings you closer to the edge. Your hand curls around his neck, your face smushed into his shoulder with his other hand cradling the back of your head. 
“Please, Mikko, please!” you sob into his t-shirt, so fucking close to release. You were desperate, strings of curses and his name and “pleasepleaseplease” the only words leaving your mouth. He coos gently at your desperation, bouncing his leg slightly to give you more friction. 
“I've got you, rakas,” (beloved) he murmurs lowly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “You're close aren't you?” 
“Mhm.” Your voice comes out whiny, but you could really care less, too caught up in chasing your orgasm to care how you sounded. “Mik - Mikko, please, please.” 
“That’s it,” he repeats, the hand that was cradling your head disappearing, only to come down on your ass sharply. A sob is ripped from your throat as you wind your hand into his hair and pull. “Come on, there you go, are you going to cum for me?” 
“Yes yes yesyesyes,” you babble, frantic as you seek your high. 
“Cum for me, rakas,” Mikko growls. “I want you to cum for me.”
The filthy, commanding tone he uses is enough to send you over the edge, throwing you into white-hot ecstasy as you finally - finally - achieve the release you've been craving. You're faintly aware of the scream you let out, and the tears slipping down your cheeks, but you're too focused on the pleasure you're feeling to be embarrassed - or even care, for that matter. 
Mikko holds you tight to his body as you begin to regain consciousness, rocking you slower and slower against his thigh until he stops, tugging you so that you straddle his lap instead. You're hyper aware of his cock pressing against your thigh, achingly hard. 
“You did so well,” he purrs, peppering your neck with soft, wet kisses. “You did so fucking good, you're so beautiful when you cum for me.” You whine at the words, finally finding the strength to lift your heavy head from his shoulder. 
“Sorry I ruined your shirt,” you snivel, gasping out a sob when another tremor wracks your body. Mikko pulls you back into his chest, chuckling softly. 
“That's alright, suloinen asia. (sweet thing) You did so good for me.” 
Mikko strokes your hair softly as your sobs slow to a stop, holding you tightly to him to build you back up where he shattered you. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as his fingers caress you, the heat radiating from him lulling you into a daze. 
“Thank you,” you whisper softly, curling your hand around the back of his head. You pull back softly to look at him, and you can't help but revel in what you see. Mikko’s cheeks are pink, his lips swollen and bruised, and his eyes are blown wide with lust. He stares up at you in admiration, smiling almost shyly at your gratitude. 
“Y/N I - fuuuck,” Mikko’s words are cut off when you rock your hips against his aching cock, his hands flying to your waist. “What are you - oh - Y/N - shit -” 
“Please?” you mewl softly, pouting softly at his reprimanding stare. 
“Stop that,” he groans, his head tilting back slightly in pleasure. Whether he's talking about your pout or the way you were grinding on him - who knows. 
“Please?” you repeat, smiling triumphantly when his hands on your waist push you a little harder against his dick. 
“Yeah,” he breathes, “Yeah, yeah, okay, one condition.” 
“Mhm,” you hum, too distracted with roaming your eyes over Mikko’s chest and arms to pay attention. 
“Hey.” Mikko grabs your face between two fingers, squishing your cheeks together as he forces you to look at him. You stop breathing for a moment, his grip on your face unrelenting as you wait for him to tell you his condition. “My condition,” he says, “is that I want more than just this. Let me take you on a date. And no more swiping right on any other big guys on dating apps.” 
His words catch you by surprise, and you laugh loudly. Mikko lets go of your face when you do, watching you throw your head back joyfully. He's confused for a moment, but accepts your kiss, smiling against your mouth as you giggle against his. 
“Is that a yes?” he murmurs between kisses. 
“It's a hell yes,” you smile brightly, leaning into to steal another. 
“Great, now can I fuck you over the back of this couch and make you cum again or what?”
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Text
The One With The Merry Little Christmas
Summary: The chill at this year’s Lawrence City Fire Department’s Christmas party has nothing to do with the snow falling outside and everything to do with the Dean and Y/n. 
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3.5K+
Warnings: Language, implied smut, angst (with a happy ending, no pun intended)
Author’s Note: Ah, can you smell Christmas in the air already? Cause I can! Anyway, this fic was written for @smol-and-grumpy​ ‘s SuperFriends Title Challenge, The One With The Friends With Benefits, and @janicho88​ 100 Followers Supernatural Christmas Celebration with, of course, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. These both kind of morphed into the same idea so I decided to combine them. I hope you guys enjoy xoxo and a very Merry Christmas -Alex
Check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!
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Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on
Our troubles will be out of sight
Across the small town, snow covered the streets of Lawrence, Kansas, the massive, fluffy flakes continuing to fall as the street lights came on that evening. The town was quiet, the blanket of snow muffling the ambient sound in the winter evening. Just south of downtown sat the city’s one modest fire station. The golden brick building was glittering with red and white twinkle lights, the glow lighting up the street for a few feet in either direction. Music could be heard bumping on the sidewalk from inside the building, its inhabitants sure to be enjoying their company Christmas party. 
Inside, the common room was filled to the brim with the entirety of the company and their loved ones. The kids were chasing each other around the bases of the fire poles. A few of the older ones knew enough to jump full force on the metal to pull open the chute at the top, entertaining the younger ones each time the plastic split open, their giggles chiming in with the festive holiday music the Captain had found in his playlists earlier that day. 
Food and drink littered the expanse of the countertops. Anything one could have been craving was set out for the group to enjoy. Dean was pouring himself a soda since this was his year to be on shift during the party and he had to behave. The fireman had grumbled about it when he stopped by his best friend’s apartment to drop off the ingredients for her taco dip. The taco dip she had only agreed to make for him if he purchased the product. After all, the woman had already made a few dozen sugar cookies for the festivities as her own contribution this year. She politely reminded him then that he could get as pissed as he wanted next year. Not that her words much appeased the Winchester. 
The first responder turned to his buddy and coworker, who was filling another bowl with his famous chili, and held up the red plastic cup with a mock look of disgust, “What is the point of Coke if it doesn’t come with any Jack?” 
“A suga’ rush?” The Cajun drawled in his signature accent. Dean snorted, bringing the cup to his lips when the object was snatched from his hand before the two could meet. 
“Hey--” he spun on his heel, coming to face to face with his best friend. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked over the rim of the cup at him. “Come on, you don’t want that, there’s no rum.”
“Sure,” the woman wet her lower lip before taking a sip of the soda that Dean had poured for himself. 
“Satisfied?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, holding out his hand for his drink back. 
“For now,” she admonished. “But I’m watching you, Winchester.” 
“That’s hurtful, Y/n/n.” Dean placed his hand over his heart, giving his friend the puppy dog look that he had learned from his little brother. A peak of a smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she looked at him before it faltered once again. Finally, she relented and gave the drink back to its rightful owner. 
“I’d say more like rightfully cautious,” the other firefighter chimed in on their conversation, earning an elated grin from the woman standing across from him. Y/n clapped her hands together like a child, her tongue peeking between her teeth as she bounced on her toes. Placing his arm over Dean’s shoulder, Benny added, “Right, Dean-o?”
“You two are incorrigible,” Dean lamented, shrugging his friend’s arm away from him. The pair laughed at Dean’s irritation as Y/n scooted her way in between Dean and the drink table. 
Dean internally cringed as Benny chose then to walk away, leaving the two friends alone for the first time that evening. The thing was, the air between the two friends was actually colder than the snow that blanketed the town outside the fire station. He knew that Y/n was putting on a show for everyone in the station since she couldn’t get out of going to the party last minute, which he also knows she would have preferred. The woman was as much a part of their work-family as she was her own family. That was what happened when best friends were joined at the hip for over fifteen years. There was no way she was getting out of going without raising suspicion, and Y/n was too private of a person to deal with answering questions that her absence would have surely raised. 
As much as people like to think they know the real woman, she only has ever fully opened up to two people in her life, her mother and Dean. No one else has ever stuck around long enough to try and break down that wall that she had put up around herself. If Dean wasn’t just as stubborn as her he might have stopped trying a long time ago, but he was determined to get to know the real woman no matter how hard she seemed to try to stop him. 
In the grand scheme of things, he supposes that’s is why it was so easy for them to fall into their friends with benefits relationship. One post-breakup, alcohol-fueled night in bed together two years ago had begun the whole thing. It didn’t take them long after they woke the next morning to realize the cliche arrangement could be just what both of them needed. Even still, Dean could count on his hands how many times in total they had spent in the other’s bed. 
The most recent of which just happened to be last night. Dean had stopped by with dinner for his friend and the ingredients for the dip he had conned her into making. A few glasses of wine later, as it usually did go, and the two of them enjoyed their time together. But it wasn’t the sex that was the problem, it was the conversation after. 
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
From now on
Our troubles will be miles away
Dean ran a hand through his sweaty hair as Y/n climbed from the bed in search of her strewn articles of clothing. She picked up the various garments, throwing them in her hamper as she passed by it and into her ensuite bathroom. 
“Why are you so quiet?” Dean’s voice carried across the room and over the sound of the shower starting. He pulled himself out of the bed and slipped on his boxer briefs as he followed after her. 
The woman bit her tongue as she tested the temperature of the water. It was only a matter of time before Dean caught on to her charade. Some days she hates how well he knows her. It’s not that she wants to keep secrets from her best friend but it can be downright creepy when he basically reads her mind. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About?” he questioned, stepping into the bathroom as she climbed into the shower. 
“How to tell you something,”
“Alright, you’re kind of scaring me, Y/n/n,”
Allowing the hot water to cascade down her face and body, Y/n took a deep breath before choosing to answer him, “It’s Sean.”
“As in douchebag Sean?”
“Dean, do you have to call him that?” she sighed, having already expected this reaction from him. 
“Yes, because he is one. You know what, douchebag is the nicest thing I could be calling him right now,” Dean countered, leaning against the bathroom vanity, his arms crossing over his freckled chest at the mention of that prick’s name. 
“He wants to get coffee,” her voice was low, knowing her admission was about to rile up the man on the other side of the curtain. She wasn’t even sure he had heard at first, that was until he whipped the curtain open.
“What?!” 
“Jesus!” Instinctively, her hands flew to protect her modesty as her heart tried to escape from her chest. “Dean, what the hell?”
“I could say the same thing to you! Do you not remember what that jackhole put you through over the last year, because I do. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time.” 
“You think I don’t know that? It’s just coffee, he didn’t ask me to move in with him?” Y/n spit back, her stance relaxing along with her heart. 
“But you and I both know that all it takes is one look at those blue eyes and you’ll be putty in his hands. You can’t go.” The way the last three words came out of his mouth, the definitive tone behind, it them was enough to get her blood boiling underneath her skin. 
“Oh, I can’t? Is that an order, Lieutenant?” The title rolled off her tongue, her eyes hardening as she stared at Dean. “Last time I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“You know that’s not what this is. Y/n/n, I only want what’s best for you. I don’t want to see him screw up your life again. I was there to pick up the pieces last time and I don’t want to do it again.”
“Well I can guarantee you won’t ever have to do it again,” her voice was low, her words steady even though her eyes were filled with unshed tears. 
“You know that’s --”
“Get out!” she commanded suddenly, stopping him before he could say anything else. Her eyes scrunched closed, willing herself to not look at her closest friend, the one person she was supposed to be able to count on as he let her down. 
“Y/n,”
“I said get out!” 
Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more
That was the last time the two of them said anything to each other until she walked into the fire station a little over two hours ago. He had to give it to her, she was putting on a good show, even messing around with him like usual. But he could see the truth in her eyes when she looked at him. Y/n was pissed, but most of all, she was hurt. 
Dean turned around, leaning against the counter to face her. The woman didn’t acknowledge his presence, instead choose to continue with preparing herself a drink, one with a bit more whiskey than needed, but he wasn’t going to comment on that. “I’m glad you are here,” he tried instead. 
“Well, I haven’t seen Sam and Jessica and the kids in a while, I wasn’t going to miss out on that because you are an ass,” she noted, still choosing to not look at him. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 
“No, you never do, do you?” She swallowed thickly, turning on Dean, the flicker of a flame telling the experienced first responder it was best not to stoke the fire. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like minutes to them, when in reality, it was merely a few seconds, the bubble they were in being popped by Dean’s niece running and crashing herself into his legs. 
“Uncle Dean!” She cheered, reaching up with her short arms as he bent down to pick her up. He situated the little girl on his hip as she squealed in delight. “Can I have another cookie?” Her tone dropped, the small child looking up at her only uncle from underneath her insanely long lashes. 
“How many is that now?” He asked her, the glint of a smirk on his face. 
“Uh… two,” she held up two fingers, her argument completely unconvincing. 
“Uhhuh, I bet,” Dean grumbled, but he knew in his heart he couldn’t say no to that face. “Okay, one more cookie, but you can’t tell on me to you Daddy. He thinks sugar is for suckers.” 
“Promise.” The little girl held up her pinky to her uncle, one of the first things he ever taught the kid because he knew he was a sucker from day one and he was not trying to get into trouble with his little brother over it. Even if it never worked to his advantage.
Dean held up his pinky and wrapped it around hers. He shrugged to Y/n before taking his niece over to the sweets table. In reality, Dean knew the conversation needed to be over, it wasn’t the time or place, but if there was one thing he hated more than anything it was fighting with Y/n. It felt like a piece of him was missing when he couldn’t talk to her or see her, and if he was being honest with himself that kind of scared him. When he became so codependent on her he couldn’t be sure. It just felt like she had always been there, and always should be, right by his side. 
Clara tried to steal a second cookie as Dean helped her pick out the first, but he knew he would be in it if he let her get away with that one, so he made sure it got put back. When he turned around to set the five-year-old down, he noticed Y/n was gone. He scanned the whole room and couldn’t find her anywhere in the mix of people. 
As suspected, the little girl rushed right to her Daddy, who scowled at his brother. Dean offered a shrug and a smirk as he made his way over to Sam. “Don’t you start with me too.”
“Oh, it’s not me you have to answer to, it’s Jess because she’s the one that has to put her down tonight.” 
“Eh, she’ll forgive me, I’m her favorite brother-in-law,” Dean waved off his brother. 
“You’re her only brother-in-law.” 
“Whatever. Did you see where Y/n went?” 
Sam crossed his arms, his brows rising on his forehead, “Looked like she was headed outside.” Dean pursed his lips, two small dimples forming at the corners. “Did you two fight?” 
“Is it that obvious?” 
“No, but you are all brooding and pensive right now,” Sam moved his hand in a flourish in front of Dean as he spoke. 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, what’s going on with you two?” The taller brother pushed for Dean to talk, and he pondered his pros and cons of answering. 
“Sean wants to have coffee with her?” Dean said, nonchalant. 
“And?” 
“And the guy is a dick, she deserves better.” 
“Better? Like you?” Sam tried to hide the amusement from his features as Dean whipped his head from where he was staring at the door to his little brother. 
“What?” Dean’s voice rose an octave at his brother’s question. 
“Oh come on, I know you guys have been sleeping together for a while now.” 
“Sam, it’s not what you think,” Dean sighed before running his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s only happened a handful of times.” 
“And?” Sam shook his head, trying to convey his meaning to his brother. “Listen, you guys have known each other for longer than I’ve known Jessica. You spend all your free time together. You are basically a couple which I would say without the sex but we all know you are doing that too, so basically a couple. Why can’t you just man up and tell her how you feel?” 
“Cause I don’t know how I feel? It’s never felt like a relationship with her. It’s just always been easy.” 
“That’s how it should be, Dean. The two of you are perfect for each other. I think you owe it yourselves to at least try.” Sam urged.
“And what if it all blows up?”
“What if it all works out?” Sam countered. “Every relationship is either going to end in forever or end in a breakup, but that doesn’t mean that you just don’t try. Take the leap, Dean.”
“I hate you, you know that,” Dean grimaced, knowing that his brother was right. While he had never thought of Y/n like that before they slept together the first time, he couldn’t ignore the chemistry they had together. She was his other half, he already admits to that, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t amazing sex. Sam was right, how would admitting anything be different than how they already lived their lives together?
“Yeah, well, I’ll say I told you so at your wedding,” Sam clapped his older brother’s shoulder before running off after his toddler. Dean glared after his brother, he hated when he was right, mostly because Sam loved to say ‘I told you so’. 
Through the years
We all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star
Upon the highest bough
The firefighter stalked off towards his locker to grab his jacket before following out the doors that lead to the side of the firehouse. If Y/n went out, that’s where she would be, sulking in the shadows. Cold air swirled in to replace the heat from inside as he opened the door, the rush of it sending a chill through his body. He zipped up the coat as he went down the few stairs, finding her sitting there on the stoop. 
“Dean, I don’t want to talk about it,” She sighed when she looked up to see it was him that had followed her. 
“Then just listen?” He quirked one brow at her, waiting for her invitation before taking a seat next to her. “I know that you are hurting and I wanted to start by saying I’m sorry. It was never my intent to hurt you.”
“I know that.”
“I just… I can’t stand seeing you so down. Sean hurt you badly and I didn’t want you to allow him to do it again. You deserve so much more than that.” Dean pulled his arms in closer to his body as the chill of the night set into his bones and the snow continued to fall around them. 
“It was just coffee Dean, not a marriage proposal.”
“Yeah, and I hate that even more,” Y/n looked up then, confusion written all over her features. “Y/n you know that you are the most important thing in my life, next to my brother. Hell, most times you outrank him. When we fight, or you go out of town, it’s like there is a piece of myself missing, I have this hole in my chest that only you can fill. I guess I never really understood what that meant in the grand scheme of things.” 
“Dean,”
“You know I love you right?” He cut her off.
“Of course I do. I love you too,” The word rolled off the tip of her tongue like honey. Like it was the most simple thing in the world. Because she did love him, and she had for as long as she’d known the eldest Winchester. 
“But Y/n/n, I think I’m in love with you,” Dean held her gaze, his amber green eyes searching hers for the words she had yet to utter. The girl across from him could feel her chest filling with emotion, the confession by her favorite firefighter igniting something long dormant inside her. 
“You do?” Tears were threatening to overflow her eyelids, the feeling inside her needing to escape somewhere. She wasn’t in control anymore, her voice cracking with her words. 
“I do,” he nodded, affirming his words to himself as well as her. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought that maybe we could give us a chance.” 
“Us?” Dean nodded, at a loss for what she was thinking for the first time in a long time. “I like the sound of that, us.” Y/n repeated the words with a snort,  a coy smile upturning one side of her mouth. Dean’s breath hung in the air as he waited for her to continue. 
“Is that a yes?” 
“Yes, Winchester.” The woman shook her head as he sighed, his body visibly relaxing next to her. Dean took his hand out of his jacket pocket, cupping her cold cheek in its warmth. A bright smile lit up her face as he ran his thumb over her reddened nose and down over her bottom lip. “Just kiss me already.”
“Is that an order?” He threw her words back at her, earning a fist to the chest. Her nose scrunched up as she playfully scowled at him. Dean felt her fingers wrap around the lapels of his jacket before she was pulling him to her, their lips meeting in the middle. Both of them were hesitant, this being their first kiss that wasn’t alcohol-fueled or rushed. Dean opened his mouth to her just as the alarm inside the firehouse sounded sending the two of them apart as if they had been electrocuted. 
“I’ve gotta go,” Dean silently cursed the universe’s timing. 
“Go save lives,” she patted down his jacket against his chest as her fingers unraveled themselves from the material. Dean pecked her chilled nose before getting up and running to the door, pausing as he pulled it open to turn back to her. 
“Wait for me?”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
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Forevers: @22sarah08​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @katehuntington​ @lyarr24​ @malfoysqueen14​ @miss-nerd95​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @suckmyapplejacks​ @superfanficnatural​ @supraveng​ @talesmaniac89​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​
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internethorrorfan · 3 years
Note
Could I see your Liu/Sully headcanons please
Homicidal Liu headcanons:
Homicidal Liu was created by VampireNote13. Link to story/info here: https://cpuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Homicidal_Liu. None of this is canon, this only applies to my AU version of the character.
-Sully isn't a split personality of Liu's, he's actually a demon that possessed him after the night Jeff went insane. Sully had been watching him for years beforehand. Sully has Liu's best interest though... for the most part.
-Obviously Liu regretted killing that nurse in his story but surprisingly Sully ended up regretting it too. Sully came to the realization that killing an innocent person made him just as bad as their brother so he vowed to only kill criminals from that point forward.
-At first Liu actually forgave Jeff for becoming a murderer. In his mind he’d be a hypocrite if he condemned his brother when he had a voice in his head telling him to kill people himself. But 1 day he saw a news report about Jeff killing some preschoolers and realized that his brother was unforgivable. Now Liu wants to kill him as much as Sully does.
-Why does he wear a scarf all the time? It’s because the scarf was a Christmas gift from his mother and has great sentimental value to him. The cross necklace you seem him wearing in fanart all the time also has sentimental value to him: it was something his dad got him for the last birthday he had before the incident.
-Liu and Sully argue a lot (because Sully is a massive douchebag most of the time) but they really do love each other. Liu considers Sully a better brother than Jeff ever was. 
-Liu has really bad survivor's guilt and blames himself for what happened to his family. Sully keeps trying to tell him that it’s not his fault but Liu rarely listens.
-Since he doesn’t remember what Sully does he makes him write everything he does down in their journal. Sully usually complies...unless he does something he knows Liu wouldn’t approve of. 
-He's afraid of most of the horrors but he still lives in the Under Realm since he's a wanted man in the human realm. The other horrors know not to mess with him though. Both because he's the brother of Jeff the Killer and because they've heard of Sully's reputation.
-Like Jane he's The Mom Friend™. He's more of an overprotective mom though. He always worries about Sally's safety whenever he's babysitting her even though she's literally dead. Sully is more like that cool uncle your mom doesn’t want you hanging around because he lets you break the rules.
-Speaking of Jane, she and Liu have a complicated relationship to say the least. Liu himself is good friends with Jane and the 2 of them hang out a lot but Sully hates her. Sully wants to be the only 1 to kill Jeff so he sees Jane as a threat. Sully likes to secretly sabotage Jane’ s efforts and blame it on others. Liu is none the wiser.
-He sleeps with a night light on to make sure he's never caught off guard when he's asleep again. Anybody who makes fun of him for it gets a punch to the gut.
-Liu gets along well with Masky since Tim also knows what it’s like to have a violent alter ego even though he doesn’t have 1 anymore.
-Knives? Screw that. That’s so 2014. He’s got a fucking gun. Let’s see Jeff try to stab something when he’s got a bullet right between the eyes.
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Art by 0ktavian: https://www.deviantart.com/0ktavian/art/Liu-Woods-Fanart-Marksman-728540827
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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years
Text
together | ho x fem!reader
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@allegra-soleil​ asked: Chérie, ma belle, that last blurb BROKE ME. Can I have something similar but with Haz? Cuz we both know he is more hot tempered, and would probably make things worse before making them better, yelling and crying later when he realizes he really fucked up💔 Maybe he was the jealous one? Feeling left out by your sudden friendship with Tom? Mercy, baba. Je t'adore💖💖💖
Warnings: MAJOR ANGST including language/swearing, harsh arguments, screaming, cries, insecurities, anxiety, lots of emotions tbh BUT FLUFF at the end because we want happy endings in this house, dammit!
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: ALLIE. MY GORGEOUS ALLIE 💞 your request turned into an oneshot because, well, inspiration i guess? 😂🙄🙊 so this one is for you bae, an angsty as hell but with that fluffy ending we all want 🥰🥰🥰 love you girl and as always, stay safe sweetheart 💖💗
‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event  
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Despite whatever people say, no human on Earth could escape the reality of how feelings work. No human was perfect, that was for sure. Not even Harrison. And now, the boy was massively experiencing jealousy at its best. Or maybe at its worse.
Which actually lead to now, when you tried to catch up your blond boyfriend as he stomped towards his bedroom, at Tom’s house.
“What was that just now?” you yelped as you were now both in the bedroom, Harrison facing away from you and not a single word addressed since what happened just before.
“What?” Harrison said with a harsh tone.
“The way you just addressed both Tom and I a minute ago, acting like a complete douchebag. Care to explain?” you asked again, slight irritation now audible in your voice.
“Oh sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your private time with Tom!” scoffed Harrison while turning towards you, and your eyes widened at what you were looking at.
The face of your boyfriend displayed a look of mixed emotions you never knew was possible; anger, disgust, sarcasm and pure jealousy. His whole body screamed tension but the worst part must have been his voice, each word accentuated by the fakest playful tone of all time.
And that vision was almost scaring you.
“What are you saying, Haz?” you demanded with clear and proper authority, the need to know what was going on in your boyfriend’s mind being your main goal at the moment.
“What am I saying, you’re asking!?” Harrison sneered at you, “I’m just noticing that my own girlfriend looks like she’s having the blast of her life with my freaking best friend ever since we started the quarantine, is what I’m saying!”
Harrison’s voice got louder as the sentence kept going, each word heavy enough to weight more and more upon yourself.
“Are you joking right now?”
Now you were expecting anything, but that.
“I’m just by myself mostly all the fucking time like I don’t even exist in this house! But don’t mind me, really, it’s not like I’m your damn boyfriend in the story! So don’t waste your precious time with somebody like me and just go back to your dear Tommy to laugh and be lovey-dovey like two stupid kids!!”
“Are you out of your mind or what?!” you retorted before Harrison had the chance to continue, your ears still not believing what you just heard.
“If you wanted to go out with Tom Holland himself, you should have said no to me in the first place, instead of using me all this time to get closer to him-”
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Harrison?!” you shot, you voice getting as loud as Harrison’s one.
The back and forth argument kept getting worse, you two now becoming entire messes as both your faces were reddening at the same time your words got louder.
The scene definitely drew the attention of the other residents of the house, the first one being Tuwaine as the man was passing by and just stopped at the doorframe, not believing what was actually happening. Soon Harry followed, the screams loud enough to wake up the deaths or the neighbours next door, or even the entire neighbourhood.
“Oi guys, what’s up in there?”
And obviously, the next and last person to arrive was Tom.
“Why the fuck are you all screami-”
Just then, you simply exploded like a grenade that waited and took too much already on yourself. Your voice was screaming of anger now, but also distress and sadness, the rage definitely showing now from head to toes that you shocked all four boys, Harrison included.
“FUCK YOU HARRISON! JUST- FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING DAMN ATTITUDE!” you raged and kept going in one breath, “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I DID TO DESERVE BEING TREATED LIKE A- LIKE A TOTAL SLUT BUT IF Y-YOU CAN’T TRUST ME ENOUGH OR EVEN BELIEVE IN THE LOVE I FEEL TOWARDS YOU, I-I JUST- AT LEAST FREAKING TALK TO ME BEFORE ACTING LIKE A FUCKING TOSSER Y-YOU DAMN BASTARD!!!”
That was it. You lost it, all your usual nice and sweet composure just vanished in a snap. But you felt hurt, badly hurt like you never once thought you would be that your feelings just washed over you that you had to scream as loud as possible.
You never had that kind of harsh arguments with Harrison, even knowing the boy was sometimes short tempered but right now, everything he said to you still resonated in your head. Every words. All of them. Even the degrading ones. Each of them were said with pure and bad jealousy, something you couldn’t imagine coming from Harrison.
In the end, even him was capable of hurting people.
Your face was now a red mess, your entire body tensed but at the same time shaking, and your eyes full or tears that soon started rolling down your cheeks when you finished screaming to his face.
Then a cold, tensed and awkward silence settled in the room. No one dared to say a word. And after a loud sob escaped your lips, you ran outside the room, not even glancing once more at the blond guy in front of you, nor at the other boys as you made your way past them. Your cries echoed in the hallway as you then barged inside the “office” room, slamming the door behind you with such violence it made everyone jump, locking it right after. Finally alone in your own despair, you slid your back down the door and sat against it, the back of your head slightly bumping onto the wooden door as you now let out your sobs openly.
“The actual fuck was that just now?!” Harry finally dared to speak, snapping out after what he just saw and heard. “Did you literally accused (Y/N) of cheating on you?!”
“Were you out of your mind to be rude to her like that?!” Tuwaine added, dumbfounded by all the argument.
Harrison was not moving, not a single inch. He was like petrified on the spot, now standing alone in his bedroom as his friends were still staying outside of it. But compared to a few minutes ago, his face now lost all colour, being as pale as if he saw a ghost.
He was completely shocked at himself.
“Mate” Tom addressed his friend, the tone of his voice calm even after being badmouthed by his own best friend, the one who just stood there like a lonely and wandering soul.
Not really expecting an answer from Harrison, Tom slowly walked inside the room, to then stand in front of his blond friend.
“That’s totally normal to get jealous, you know?” Tom began in his most understanding and serious voice, “But jeez, (Y/N) is like a sister to me! Never would I see her more than that!”
Tom’s words were making their way though Harrison’s brain, but the lack of reaction from him was getting really worrying.
“But mostly, I’d NEVER betray my best friend! Never, you hear me Harrison?” Tom insisted firmly. “And just now, you completely misunderstood everything and hurt (Y/N). And yourself.”
And at that moment, Harrison felt like the entire universe fell on top of his head. For good. He finally realised he badly fucked up.
* * * *
It’s been four days since the argument. The four longest and tougher days of Harrison’s life.
Since then, you’ve closed yourself into the office room, not wanting to be near or see your boyfriend after everything he said to you. You ate there, slept there and cried there. You just locked yourself in, as if wishing for everyone to forget you were even there. But that was impossible for Harrison.
When Tom somehow brought back his friend to himself, after being completely out of his mind like he never did, Harrison panicked and just wanted to rush back to you. Tom, Harry and (mostly) Tuwaine could hold him back, even when he started screaming your name for you to forgive him, pure agony in both his voice and written on his face.
After, Harrison was like an undead. His usual shining blue eyes were no more, but replaced by empty one, completely dull and lost into nothingness. His body was even too heavy for him to stand properly, as if everything he told you came back to him to just put the blame on him and only him, the guilt heavier like an entire building. He even lost his appetite and his sleep, not finding any purpose to any matter while being away from you after what he did. What he made you endure.
You didn’t want to see him anymore, and just kept ignoring him while he stood on the other side of the door for hours, pleading for you to open and talk about it together. Nothing. You never replied. If you ever needed something, you would simply ask to Tom, Harry or Tuwaine by text. But never Harrison. Never. And Tom would have to drag his friend away from the door as he would just start crying, desperately trying to open it or even bang his forehead on it on total despair.
That situation weighted on everybody else, too. The once joyful house became a pure living hell of agony, the air thick with tension all around. Being under lockdown for so long was already a pain in general, so nobody needed that kind of additional stress to make it worse.
It had to stop, but not any which way.
On the sixth day, Tom was cooking some lunch while Harry and Tuwaine were in the backyard, enjoying the beautiful weather that London was offering them. And Harrison was at the exact same spot he occupied since the incident, slumped onto the couch, head thrown on the back to fix the ceiling for hours.
“Hey, Harrison.”
The blond lightly glanced at Tom, his body not moving, as the brunette stood next to the couch with a tray in his hands.
“Do you want to bring this to (Y/N)?” asked Tom to his friend.
Harrison’s head slowly turned towards him at the sound of your name.
“She doesn’t want to see me anymore” whispered Harrison almost inaudibly, his eyes red and puffy after so many sleepless nights spent with cries.
“If you just force yourself into her like you did the past days, like a mad man, for sure she’ll just keep ignoring you...” sighed Tom, trying not to sound so done with his friend during that tough path he was going through. “Man up, be yourself and go.”
Still hesitant, Harrison looked between Tom and the tray in his hands a few times, before slowly sitting down properly on the couch. Tom nodded at him to encourage him a bit and after what seemed like the biggest effort of his life, Harrison finally stood on his own two feet, now facing Tom.    
“Come on and make up properly, idiot” ironically chuckled Tom, hoping to lighten the mood a little.
He held once again the tray out for Harrison to take, insisting. Gulping, the blond boy lifted his arms to soon grab the tray, hands still slightly trembling. Tom waited for his friend to calm down, knowing perfectly his mind was just a complete mess at the moment as so many scenarios of what was about to happen kept playing on and on, each of them at the same time.
Once he emptied his mind from the negativity invading him, Harrison took a deep breath in before holding the tray properly by himself. Tom gently patted his shoulder, another supporting move of his and moved aside to let his friend walk past him.
His steps were as light as a feather, not wanting to make too much noise on his way to the office room. Harrison’s heart was beating like crazy, each beat almost wanting to break through his ribs, the pain almost unbearable.
But there was no coming back. Not anymore. Harrison was so scared to mess everything up again, like he did when he started an argument that was not even supposed to exist. But he brought it up, like the dumbass he was sometimes. And now, he had to made up for all the abominations he said to you. So yes, Harrison was scared and even worse... he was scared to loose you.
Without realising it, the blond boy was now standing in front of the wooden door. That door that could be the epitome of your heart right now, completely closed and unknown to him, acting like a barrier to protect you from more sadness you may not be able to handle anymore. But Harrison had to make the first step to you because he was the one who caused all this.
He had to fix his mistakes, once for all and good.
“... (Y/N)?” the boy called in what sounded more like a whisper.
He clicked his tongue, sure you didn’t even hear him. After glancing at the living room and noticing Tom had left to join the boys outside, Harrison cleared his voice and tried again.
“(Y/N)... It’s... it’s me.”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, you were curled up onto the couch that became your bed for almost a week. Your lack of sleep was beyond your own understanding, as not even a single one of your college projects managed to keep you awake at night. Your body has been aching and heavy, the simple fact of rolling over being painful to you. And the painkillers did nothing to your constant headaches that kept coming and going whenever they wanted. You were sad, hurt and now tired.
But out of nowhere, you caught a faint voice coming from the door. At first you were not really sure as your mind was rambling all over the place, but then you heard it again, and a bit clearer. That familiar voice you knew too well, that particular one you were trying to avoid at all cost since the argument.
Harrison.
Hearing it now awakened all your senses again, against your own will but you preferred to stay quiet, bringing your knees closer to your chest and hoping he would just go away.
“Please, (Y/N)... I-I’ve brought your lunch...”
You gulped, hiding your face into your knees. His once energetic voice was no more, sounding now more morose and... hurt. And somehow, it still saddened you a bit. The silence invaded the place again. Now you felt torn between two rather difficult choices: still ignoring him because the hurtful words he screamed at you that day were the cause of your sleepless nights, or... maybe confront him and see how it goes. Maybe.
“Fuck, what did I expect really... Of course you’re still angry at me, and you have all the rights to be” Harrison murmured along with a sigh.
Lowering his head, Harrison’s eyes fell on the lunch tray Tom kindly prepared to you and mindlessly inspected it. The smell was mouthwatering and the steak sure looked delicious, but Harrison couldn’t help but note you always liked your meat less cooked and with a lot of oregano. And regarding the sides, the boy was pretty sure you would leave the cucumber slices of the salad, as you liked more carrots instead.
All these little things, even the most insignificant ones, were part of your being. And Harrison learnt to know all of them by heart, and to cherish them. And so did you, ever since you started dating. The specific tea he loved to drink depending on how he was feeling, the vegetables he couldn’t look at - even after you desperately tried to cook them in many different ways -, what to do when he was feeling tired and grumpy, the movie he could binge-watch all the time, and so on...
Harrison loved you as much as you loved him.
And he had to fucked this up like a bastard to finally realise he just imagined the stupidest things ever, and hurt you in the end.
“... I’m the fuckin’ worst.”
As any chance of this door opening vanished into thin air, Harrison loudly sighed, badly depressed but still trying his best to contain his tears a bit more, and put the lunch tray down at the door to then walked away.
But after only taking two steps, two click sounds suddenly reached his ears which made him stop on his track, turning quite fast towards the door to see it... slightly opening. And that was when Harrison caught sight of you and his body froze, eyes wide open.
Through the half-open door, you were there, your entire frame partially visible but still. He was finally able to see you and notice how fragile you looked. Facial features slimmed down, dark circles and red eyes. You were a mess, just like Harrison was during the past few days. After what seems like hours of total silence, both your eyes finally met, hesitant at first but then, you slowly opened the bedroom door a bit more. The heart of Harrison started beating all over again, his lungs working fully as if he learnt once more how to breath.
“... Harrison.”
Oh, your voice. Hearing it after so long brought shivers down his spine.
“(Y-Y/N)... I-”
But words got suddenly mixed up in his mind as Harrison wanted to tell you so many things at the same time. How much he was sorry, how much of an idiot he was, how much he regretted, how much... he missed you. So much. But then, he remembered Tom’s advices.
“If you just force yourself into her... like a mad man... she’ll just keep ignoring you...”
Harrison had to think calmly, but most importantly wisely. So he decided to stay quiet waiting for you to speak first, if you ever did.
You’ve never seen Harrison this tense like he actually was. Never this... all over the place. Hair sticking in every directions, his stubble more visible than ever and baggy clothes. Well, you were pretty much the same anyway. But what saddened you more was the look in his eyes. His ocean eyes you loved getting lost into turned into two empty orbs, dull, deprived of any joy but tears, now.
“... We need to talk” you muttered in a low tone, your hand grabbing the door harder to get you some extra support, you hoped.
As you slowly lowered your body to take the tray off the floor, Harrison got quicker and grabbed it before you. This brought you two face to face, crouching with only the space of the tray between you, eyes locking for some seconds. No word spoken but only looks, and that was a lot.
You averted your eyes at the same time before getting up again, a bit awkwardly. Harrison followed you inside the office room while you closed the door right after him. Not paying too much attention at the mess around, he went to place the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch and stood there, not knowing what to do or if he could talk. Silently, you advanced to then sit on the said couch, pushing away the blankets and pillows you used to sleep on the side. You patted a few time the space next to you while looking at Harrison or, at least, trying to draw his attention as the boy was looking anywhere but at you, fidgeting with his fingers like a child who just did something stupid.
Well, maybe that was the case, actually.
Finally, Harrison heard the muffled sound of your hand against the couch and, after looking at you like he wanted your approval, slowly but surely walked and sat next to you. He brushed his thighs a few times, feeling his muscles stiff but still trembling. His heartbeat kept pounding on inside his chest, one foot slightly tapping in rhythm on the carpet. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to remain calm. But Harrison knew he had to speak first. After all, everything was his own fault.
“(Y/N), listen I’m-”
“I’m sorry...”
Harrison stopped and looked at you, mouth still open as he was not sure if he heard right. Now frowning, he noticed your head dropped as you were desperately fixing your knees, the grips of your hands on your sweatpants making your knuckles slightly turn white.
“I’m sorry, Harrison” you repeated once again, your voice trembling and just above a whisper. “I-I shouldn’t have insulting you l-like I did. You deserved it b-but I said such horrible things to you, instead of talking about it with you... I-I’m an idiot, I should have-”
“W-Wait (Y/N), what are you saying? I’m the one who has to apologise to you, not the other way around!” retorted Harrison, quite shocked and confused by your words.
“But I just got things worse, Harrison! A-And in the end, we were just screaming at each other a-and I-I-”
Your body started shaking again, your throat tightening as more words wanted to go out, soon followed by sobs. Your breathing became halting and tears were forming at the outside corners of your eyes, you couldn’t stop any of this as guilt kept growing inside of you during these days.
Harrison couldn’t handle seeing you like this anymore, nor hearing accusing yourself for what happened to you both. That was impossible, and it had to make it stop. He had to make you understand that any of this was not your fault. He had to comfort you as much as you needed to be.
So the boy slid from the couch, both knees on the carpet as he was now facing you. He pressed his torso against your knees, trying to be as close as possible to you, and put his hands on your thighs. The touch brought you out of your inner upheaval and your teary eyes met again.
“Listen, (Y/N)” began Harrison, gulping, “I’m the one who started all this mess whereas nothing of this would have happened, okay? I-I’m the stupid one here, the selfish one, the... jealous one who imagined horrible things because I got... I got insecure and lonely. I shut myself away enough to awaken the worst side in me. And like a complete asshole I accused you of... of cheating on me. You, the person I love the most and that loves me so much in return. The person I trust with all my heart. I just- I fucked up so bad a-and-”
Harrison didn’t notice the tears already rolling down his cheeks until now.
“I-I’m just the worst boyfriend- no, the worst human being ever-”
But then, your trembling but soft hands gently raised to wipe his wet cheeks with your thumbs making him stop spouting any more gibberish about himself. And it was like your touch instantly appeased him, like the best medicine that could exist and just closed his eyes, his breathing slowly calming down.
By instinct, his bigger hands raised to gently rest on top of yours and just leaned his face on your palms, appreciating the skin contact he missed since then. God did he miss your touch.
You both sniffled, forehead resting against each other as you leaned more towards the blond boy. The tears kept going for some time actually, neither of you really knowing for how long. But that was needed.
After some time spent in a rather calm silence, you parted from each other and you gently brushed your boyfriend’s wet cheeks with your thumbs again, a comforting smile now on your face.
“I think... we both messed up” you gently whispered.
A light smile appeared on Harrison’s face, the left corner slightly raising more like it always did when he was getting shy or embarrassed... or comforted.
“We did” replied the blond, a soft chuckle barely audible, “... well, mostly me.”
“Never hesitate to talk to me, alright Harrison?” you stated quite seriously but still with that kind tone of yours your boyfriend loved so much. “Even for stupid matters, I don’t care, just let’s talk about it. Promise?”
“I promise, love.”
You shared another smile, rosy cheeks and eyes still shining with the last few tears. But now, the atmosphere felt way lighter as any ounce of negativity washed away around you both. You kept the eye contact and your hands connected, a way to slowly treat that deep link between you both.
Then you gently brought Harrison’s face closer to you and left a light kiss on his forehead, the kiss lasting for a few seconds but Harrison made the most of it, his eyes closing again which let the last tears roll on his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, love” Harrison whispered like he was in trance.
“I know, dear. I know. But we will go through it. Together.”
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keeper-not-hero · 3 years
Text
MY THREE HUMANS AND MY THREE TROLLS ARE FINALLY DONE BEING THOUGHT ABOUT AND ARE NOW PLACED INTO THE WORLD FOR YOU TO ENJOY READING ABOUT, Massive post under read more!!!
[Obs: These ain’t kids. They’re all in their early 20’s tho.]
Gatolt Osbizb (name means nothing. = Muse of Doom.) - 
Looks: Hair that goes down to her shoulders, curly and surprisingly well groomed. Skin (and body) made up of tiny chunks stitched together. Fingers, hands, legs, slightly different shades of grey, with seams colored with the multitude of different blood types beneath. Blank eyes, shirt and pants. Simplistic dress code.
Personality: A hodgepodge of Troll flesh, bones, and a few cybernetic enhancements all stitched together into a singular being. Goldblood, purple blood, violet, and more. Both of her eyes are blank (though she can still see thanks to cyberoptics), and she is usually in at least a mild amount of pain due to the strain of her body barely being able to keep itself together. Despite all that, she tries to act cheery and tries to be the life of her friend circle, though not always with success. And besides, she rarely tries to mingle outside of it, feeling unwelcome in other circles.
Constantly requires maintenance which she usually does herself, and… fresh replacements. Her creator fucked up in making her, which means she is now slowly yet constantly rotting away, to the point every part of her body except the brain and enhancements are different than her first resurrection.  Her girlfriend, Bakhus, usually helps with gathering ‘replacements’. She feels like a burden due to her condition that sometimes leaves her bedridden for days, which makes her stay quiet and sometimes even enable her friends’ bad habits, because she doesn’t want to be a drag. Hates the fact her whole life revolves around her condition. Likes gardening and clockwork.
Bakhus Gredui (Greedy Bacchus / Dionysius. = Thief of Void)  - 
Looks: Hair that goes all the way to the floor and a few feet behind her, greasy, messy, and dragging food bits in it. Tank top with her sign (Sign of the Brazen) on it, suspenders and oversized clown pants. Juggalo make-up messy and somewhat faded, droopy yellow eyes, usually with a hunched stance. Very, very tall, and extremely strong - with some healthy weight to her body to go along with it.
Personality: A purple-blood that represses her kind and motherly urges under liters and liters of Faygo. A chef at heart and a great cook from years of experience, she constantly throws barbecues and small carnivals on her massive garden, which attracts lowblood and highblood alike. Her festivities have become small gathering spots for those who wish to mingle with the upper / lower classes despite their own status, and for spies of both the Condescension and those who oppose her. Bakhus is, of course, too busy grilling to mind that she has accidentally created the perfect neutral spot.
Despite her cooking prowess, the Faygo inhibits both her ability to feel much empathy or care about the taste of her food. Deliciously cooked and prepared meals placed near overly-sugary, soggy, Faygo-drenched pretzels. She carries a massive cookbook alongside her massive pot, which has recipes that certain blood types enjoy, and… recipes made out of said blood types. She has no qualms cooking violets and reds, and sometimes will go so far as to grab Faygo-drunk trolls in her cookout and take them inside to ‘rest’. They’re never seen again.
Also keeps a small spice garden. Gatolt usually takes care of it, with whatever isn’t used to cook as fertilizer. Occasionally, she sends the butchered corpses to Marciu. Who also happens to be Gatolt’s creator.
Marciu Shelli (Like, y’know. Mary Shelley. Frankenstein’s author. = Seer of Space)  - 
Looks: Short hair, think Eridan, but with no streak. Scrawny to a fault, and clearly underfed. Big scientist glasses with special prescription lenses, white lab robes that hide his starving figure and his left hand gloved with thick, hazmat-suit-like protection. The right one is a prosthetic, indigo tubes and wires trying to replicate the sensation of the original with… some success. Pointy nose, sharp teef.
Personality: Anxious, skittery and, quite frankly pitiful even for an indigo blood, Marciu spends most of his days either robbing graves for corpses or putting his ill-gotten gains to use in his laboratory. Deeply resentful of feelings he has about himself, he buries them deep within him and, to make sure no one can say he is valid or try to empathize with his pain, keeps pushing himself further and further down the hole until he pushes everyone away. Having lost a hand to a nasty accident involving a bone saw and a few too many of Bakhus’ spiked snacks, he also has a mechanical replacement.
A master of biomechanical engineering, he constantly creates half-troll, half-machine abominations to help him around the lab. Rotten servants just barely able to move their joints with hollow eyes and faces, mechanical hearts pumping blood and fuel throughout the system. Still, despite his best attempts at being as repugnant as possible, his friends still cling to him.
Except Gatolt. Gatolt has actively tried to kill him multiple times, being stopped only by Bakhus’ eternal kindness to the weirdo that occasionally gives her “aged” ingredients. Also, his human friends.
[Why does he have human friends? Idk, Pesterchum + machines or AU where humans and trolls live in the same world after a few Sburb/Sgrub/Swhatever versions playing out after homestuck and Lord English being gone.]
Bert Kairos (Albert Einstein and his whole relativity stuff + Kairos, a greek concept of time. = Mage of Time.)  - 
Looks: Very short and very curly hair. Dark skin, both legs missing, though one has a very unpolished, simplistic metal prosthetic to help him stand in one foot. Right arm missing too, half of a prosthetic attached to it,cut off at the elbow from an accident. Hasn’t bothered replacing it yet. Blouse with a robot symbol and shorts, chin stubble. Brown eyes.
Personality: A gentle soul who makes more time for everyone else than he ever did to himself. Spending literal days away from his parents’ home, staying in his makeshift workshop creating toys for the kids on his street and to help the people of his community. Lost both legs and an arm from accidents with heavy machinery and cars that he work repairing to make a living, usually for meager scraps out of the kindness of his own heart and the belief that it’s all part of a greater plan that he barely gets enough to survive, relying on crutches and Marciu’s prosthetics that often break because of even more accidents due to his very precarious working conditions.
He dreams of one day being able to inspire people, though. A big, endless machine of silly, simple delights. Not curing the world, not controlling the weather, a machine with the same utility as a painting. A machine that could cover the entire world in its width and length, proof that humanity can do anything if it just bands together. A wish that sometimes consumes his mind as he spends hours on end, instead of sleeping, building small moving pieces that will hopefully one day help fill this whole. This magnificent machine he will make to help mankind flourish through its artistic value, that they will sing his name in praise for generations, that mankind will be uplifted until we don’t need work, money, barriers, differences, just a homogenous mass streaking across the cosmos with machine brilliance. 
But, he has way too many people to take care of, so he never dabbles on it too much.
Andy Eissuh ( :) - Lord of Life) - 
Looks: Blonde hair tied in a manbun. Bushy stubble beard all over his face. Smuggest fucking grin you’ve ever seen. Blue eyes. Average height, an air of superiority that is as annoying as it is believable due to how he carries himself; like an untouchable douchebag. White tuxedo and business pants, y’know, like a doctor. Right? He’s even got the white cross! Yeah, sure, that sounds right. Like he cares about proper dress code for doctors.
Personality: A very, very, very bad doctor. A very bad doctor that has just enough good reputation and far too much money from their family to let their pretty much 100% patient loss rate slip without anyone being able to pry into it. Patient comes in, body bag goes out, and nothing ever leaves the hospital. The one time he actually saved someone was by accident, and it was a botched (and misdiagnosed by him) liver transplant where he accidentally removed the appendix instead of said liver, forgot to replace it, and the patient recovered in a short while with the help of the nurses from what he later learned was appendicitis.
Believing himself to be able to do no wrong, with a chirpy, colorful yet aggressively passive personality, he keeps his friend group around mostly to dispose of the bodies without many questions asked, and so he can feel better than the pathetic wretches he considers them. Completely blind to his irredeemably cruel medical malpractices, which he didn’t even study for, he simply bought his way into a degree because he “could feel it was my destiny.” Soft, sweet, and completely unhinged. Finding great joy preying upon the insecurities and naivete of his peers, which he feels is a breeding ground to use and abuse them for his own needs. Shoulda been smarter if you didn’t wanna get taken advantage of, duh!
Cain Pyrite (Cain the first sinner + Fool’s Gold. = Rogue of Light. ) -
Looks: Hair slightly above his shoulders, dark and greasy. Sickly pale skin, beeg librarian glasses. A nice fuzzy coat, plus shirt, plus jeans. Eye symbol on his coat. Looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in weeks, which, yeah, is absolutely right. Gentle smile, though it occasionally cracks into a nervous attempt at hiding… something!
Personality: Dedicated to… no, OBSESSED with preserving occult and ancient knowledge. Scrolls from ancient alchemists, bones of kings, relics thought long since lost hidden on the back of his seemingly normal book shop. Spending most of his days with no clients, he occasionally gets someone who is aware of his darker inclinations. He is always happy to trade knowledge for knowledge and artifact for artifact.
Only, not always the originals. No. Never the originals. 
Always finding a way to spin a story and make sure that he can spot out any fakes, he builds his collection of convincing lies, and hidden truths. Friends with the others since grave-digging always inherits some fun and interesting things, and his appetite for the esoteric and forgotten is only comparable for his taste in interesting and unique foods.
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argylemnwrites · 4 years
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He Knew
Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC (Ellie Whitnall)
Book: Ride or Die (post book 1)
Word Count: ~4600
Rating: R (language, referenced sensual content, referenced violence)
Summary: The five times Ellie came back, and the one time she didn’t
Author’s Note: Written for @rodappreciationweek Day 2 - Colt Kaneko. This is my first time not only writing Colt, but also my first time writing for one of my Choices couples that don’t end up “happily ever after.” I adored the bittersweet endings we got in ROD, and I wanted to keep that vibe here. This is pretty different from my usual writing tone/genre, so be forewarned - this is not a happy tale, but the crumbling apart of a relationship. It think the warnings listed in the rating section cover the content here.
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It wasn’t really goodbye. He knew she’d be back. There was no way she would be able to stay away, to just fall back into a world where her only thrills came from acing a test. That was too easy for her. She needed more, the push, the challenge, the adventure. He knew because he was just like her.
He wasn’t sure exactly when she’d be back, though. He was sure she’d be back in LA for Thanksgiving, but he didn’t expect her to come looking for him then. Besides, the shop was still in ruins. He wouldn’t be easy for her to find at this point. He rode past her dad’s place early on Thanksgiving morning and saw her blue Shokai Fourier sitting in the driveway. But he didn’t see her then.
Same thing about a month later, her car parked in the driveway when he drove by a few days before Christmas. But it didn’t surprise him that she wasn’t ready to come back to his world, not just yet. That first semester of college probably had enough novelty to keep her from getting too bored. New friends, new freedoms, new knowledge.
It’s not like he wasn’t busy, too. Hunting down the remnants of the Brotherhood while not attracting any unwanted attention was a new mission, one that required a new sort of careful calculation and anticipation. He wasn’t the type to sit around pining, moping, waiting on some girl, just like he was sure she wasn’t longing for him. They were alike in that way - they didn’t let their emotions define them.
It wasn’t until the anniversary of Pop’s death that he really felt it, deep down, that he… fuck it, that he missed her. Because no one else got him, not the way she did. No one else was quite like her. He was a few drinks in, sulking in the room he was renting from X’s old roommate when he did the thing he swore he would never do - he pulled out his new phone and searched “Ellie Whitnall” on Pictagram.
Her hair was darker, no longer highlighted, but still pulled back in that ponytail. And that damn sweatshirt was nowhere to be seen. Instead it was her in a crop top and a skin-tight pair of jeans in a line with six other girls, a smile on all of their faces as their arms wrapped around each other’s backs. Her lounging on the grass with one of the same girls, textbooks sprawled out around them as they both laughed. Her eating a slice of pizza in some tiny restaurant, a blond dude who looked like a preppy douchebag sitting in the booth next to her.
She looked good, happy enough. It made him proud, but the worst parts of himself wished she was just a little miserable. Not just because he was mourning and miserable himself, and misery did fucking love company, but because she didn’t belong in a world that was bland and ordinary. She burned too bright for such pedestrian experiences. She would see that soon, and she would be back. Until then he just had to keep working on avenging his father’s death, making the Brotherhood pay for all the shit they’d done. And that’s what he did, not noticing as May and June passed by. But then July came.
He was working at the sideshow, trying to find out where Wallace had last been spotted when he saw her on the dance floor. She was wearing a little white tank top and a light blue skirt that was short enough it barely covered anything. It took all his willpower to listen to what the little punk was telling him and not just march over there and kiss her, welcome her back where she belonged. But business had to come first. Besides, she was only dancing with her brunette friend, Riya, and the guy who had worn the orange tux to prom.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away” he murmured into her ear when he finally, finally could join her. She tensed at first, as he came up behind her, snaking his hand around her waist, his fingers tracing along the thin strip of skin between her shirt and skirt, but she relaxed into him when she recognized his voice. She spun to face him, her arms reaching up to rest on his shoulders.
“Who says I’m here for you? Riya and Darius just wanted a taste of what I was up to last spring.”
Colt shook his head. “Nah, you wouldn’t have worn that if you weren’t here for me,” he said as his eyes traced over her gentle curves, settling back on her face, just as beautiful and determined as he’d remembered.
“It’s July in LA. Some of us actually dress for the heat.”
He chuckled lightly, leaned down, and kissed her. She tasted the same, her fingers felt the same as they crawled up his neck and clutched onto his hair. When he tugged her out of there and handed her his spare helmet, her arms felt the same as she wrapped them around his chest. And when they got to his new studio apartment in Broadway-Manchester and stumbled towards his mattress as they stripped as quickly as they could, she felt the same as he sunk into her, both of them moaning in relief.
After, they talked all night, lounging on his mattress, drinking cheap beer and eating the string cheese they found in his pathetically empty fridge. About her classes and seminars, her roommate from some tiny town in Nebraska who had never seen an escalator before coming to Langston, and her upcoming research project. About his plans to reopen the auto body shop next year, now that the heat was finally dying down and he could go back. About how Ximena was still around, ready to help out, but how Toby had made his way north to San Fran, working for some startup that was looking to get into the high-tech auto accessory game. About how Mona would be up for parole in a few months.
“When do you head back?” he finally asked as the sun started to peek through the window, his hand tracing along her spine as she curled up against his side, her head resting on his shoulder.
“Tomorrow,” she said, after a moment, “Dr. Frisch wants me to start on my research next week so that we can get a prototype built before the end of the fall semester.”
Colt swallowed before sliding his fingers under her chin and tilting her head up, looking straight into her brown eyes. “You happy?”
She nodded gently. “For now.”
“Not bored?”
“Not yet.”
“Just want to make sure they aren’t wasting your talents.”
“Colt…”
“Just remember, you shouldn’t settle for bland.”
“I know, Colt. I know.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Even though it had been over a year since he last saw her in person, he knew she would be back someday. She had his new number now, and every so often she would send him a little text or photo. They had no agreement, had made no promises to each other, still her messages were sometimes flirty, sometimes sexy. The blond idiot still hung around her Pictagram, but if she didn’t feel obligated to keep things between them… friendly or some shit, it wasn’t any of his business really.
The summer after her sophomore year at Langston, she stayed out east, hired on for some summer research program. But Colt was busy, too. The shop was open again. It wasn’t officially under Colt’s management, not until the statute of limitations ran out next year, but he had a couple of mechanics he’d hired on, keeping things on the up and up for the moment. Everyone knew Colt was running the show.
One day in October, he was at the shop, on a creeper under some rich asshole’s Porsche Cayman GTS when Ricky, his newest hire, called out for him.
“Hey, Kaneko. Some chick is here and says she needs to talk to you.”
He rolled his eyes as he pushed himself out. Ricky was talented, but he was far too much of a pushover. “I’m in the middle of this, Ricky.”
“I know, boss… but she kinda acted like you guys were… she seemed like she knew you personally.”
Wiping his hands on his pants, he strode over, ready to tell off whatever entitled little girl thought she could demand to see him, but then he caught sight of her. The sweatshirt was back, but her hair was even darker than it had been last summer. 
“Ellie? What are you doing here?” He was shocked by her appearance in his shop, in the middle of the semester, and every instinct to tease her about not being able to stay away went out the window when he saw the look on her face, so hollow and lost. He ushered her into his office, closing the door and hearing it all. How her dad was in the ICU at UCLA after he’d suffered a massive heart attack. How she’d had to go on a leave of absence for the rest of the semester.
“The doctors think he’s going to be okay, but I can’t… I can’t go back to the house alone. Not after everything,” she finished, perched on the end of his desk.
“You’re here by yourself?”
“Riya transferred to UC Oakland to be with Darius, so other than you… I don’t really know anyone here anymore.”
So the blond douche didn’t come with her. Either he was even more of a dickwad than Colt pictured, or he wasn’t that important to Ellie. Either way, it was all Colt needed to know. He tugged her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t tell her things would be alright, because unlike some people, he wasn’t stupid enough to try and lie to her. To make her promises he couldn’t keep.
So he did what he could. He took her back to his apartment, poured her shots of tequila, and fucked her senseless. There was nothing he could do to make things better. But he could make her forget, at least for a little bit. It’s what she would have done for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
“Ellie coming tonight?” Ximena asked as Ricky spread out the takeout on the table in the breakroom.
“Haven’t seen her around much lately,” Ricky said, opening the containers of fried chicken.
“She’ll be back,” Colt said with more confidence than he actually felt. It wasn’t that he doubted that she’d be back… eventually. But she was pissed at him. Really pissed. And he wasn’t sure how long it was going to take her to cool off.
It was absurd that she was angry with him when he was the only one who wasn’t handling her with kid gloves, instead treating her like the grown-ass woman she was. Her dad was recovering just fine, but Ellie kept putting off going back to Langstson. When she’d told him she’d pulled out for the spring semester, though, he’d told her exactly what he thought about that. That she was being stupid. That she was only sticking around out of guilt over her last few months of high school. That she was wasting herself.
“What happened to you telling me I would always have a spot on your crew?” she’d yelled at him, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Not like this, with you just bumming around, aimless. Fucking around, not really doing anything. You’re better than that, Ellie.”
She’d stormed out of his apartment after their fight, and he hadn’t seen her in eight days. He assumed she was with her dad. It wasn’t worth dwelling on. She’d be back once she’d cooled off and realized he was right. But the days continued to tick by, with no sight of her around the apartment or the shop. After three weeks, he rode past her dad’s place, but the Shokai Fourier was still in the driveway, so he knew she was still in LA.
Finally, almost one month later she showed up at the shop, just as they were wrapping things up for the day. She walked straight into his office without so much as saying hello to anyone, so Colt took his time, finishing up with the spark plugs he was replacing before he joined her. She was sitting at his desk, scrolling through his spreadsheets, reviewing the shop’s finances. So damn presumptuous.
“I didn’t realize you were an accountant now,” he said, crossing his arms as he closed the door. 
She spun in his chair, glaring at him. “Just seeing if you can afford to hire a mechanical engineer.”
“By my math, you’re only half a mechanical engineer at this point. That has to earn me a bit of discount on your salary.”
“I’m here to negotiate. If I’m going back for two more years at Langston, I need to know it’s going to be worth it. So make me an offer.”
Colt couldn’t fully suppress a smirk as he quirked an eyebrow at her. “What, am I supposed to write a number on a sheet of paper and slide it over to you?”
“I’m being serious, Colt.”
He rolled his eyes. “The offer’s the same as it’s always been - equal partnership, you and me, running this place.”
“And that offer will still be on the table in two years?”
“It hasn’t changed in the past two and a half, has it?”
She stood up with a nod at that, crossing the small office to stand in front of him, staring up at him, somehow looking imposing from five foot two.
“Should we shake on it?” he asked, widening his eyes to tease her, just a bit.
“I think we can do better than that,” she said before she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him with all she had, shoving him back against the door in the process.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Colt glanced at his phone. 11:45 pm and no new notifications. She was supposed to be back from Riya and Darius’s wedding today, but as the minutes ticked by, he wasn’t sure if she was more upset than he’d anticipated.
Technically, they were both supposed to be back from the wedding today. But he’d gotten word about some… hot merchandise that was too good of a deal to pass up late on Friday, and so he’d shot Ellie a text to send Riya and Darius his congratulations before he turned his phone off. He’d figured she’d understand. She was as ambitious as him, after all.
But seeing as it had been radio silence all day Saturday and now Sunday, he was wondering what sort of Ellie was going to walk through that door. Either she was pissed, or something had happened to her, but he didn’t think she’d been in any danger in Napa.
His finger hovered over her name in his contact list. She hadn’t answered any of his calls earlier today, so he didn’t have much hope for this one. Just before he pressed down to foolishly call her yet again, headlights flashed through the front window of their apartment’s living room. She was home.
Less than a minute later, the deadbolt turned. There was Ellie, her little duffel bag in one hand, a garment bag in the other. She looked exhausted, and when she glanced up and saw him sitting at their little table, he noticed that her eyes were bloodshot. She didn’t say anything, just shook her head at him as she walked straight into their bedroom.
“Ellie, come on-” he started, chasing after her, but she slammed the door right in his face.
“I don’t even want to look at you right now,” she called through the door.
“It was three million worth of merchandise for only four hundred thousand. I couldn’t pass it up.”
The door flung back open, Ellie practically trembling with anger as she braced herself against the door frame.
“I was the fucking maid of honor, and my plus one didn’t show up!”
“None of them like me anyway.”
“Hmm, I wonder why,” she practically sneered at him as she shoved past him, stomping into the bathroom, slamming that door this time.
“You know we need to move more volume if we want to keep growing the shop. You’re the one who wants us to expand our territory into Vermont Knolls.”
“Fuck you!” echoed through the door.
“What do you want me to say? I made the call that I thought was best for our business.”
“How about ‘Sorry, Ellie. I was a total asshole’ as a starter?”
He winced at that. He probably should have led with an apology. He just didn’t think it would piss her off this much that he’d missed the wedding.
“Ellie, I am sorry. I just thought you would be fine with it since you told me to skip your cousin’s wedding last spring so we could close that deal-”
“-You didn’t even ask me this time.” she called out.
“I didn’t have time. And they are your friends. It’s not like I left you all alone with people you don’t know.”
The bathroom door swung open, but Ellie pivoted on her heel, sitting back down on the toilet seat.
“You say I’m your partner,” she said with a heavy sigh, “but you always make these decisions without me.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was a no-brainer. The pure profit on-”
“I don’t mean business partners. I mean in our… personal life.”
He frowned at that, crossing his arms, “What the fuck are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”
Ellie just shook her head. “I don’t know. Sometimes it just feels like… like no amount of growth at the shop will ever be good enough for you. Like you are never off the clock.”
“I’m not ever off the clock. That shop is Pop’s legacy, and with you, it’s grown bigger than he could have ever imagined. I don’t know why you’re acting like this was all me. We’ve built everything we have together. You’ve always been hungry to prove yourself in this world.”
“Look who’s talking! Don’t you ever think that maybe your father wouldn’t want you sinking into this world so single-mindedly after he tried to keep you away from it for so long?”
It was an old argument from her, one he hadn’t heard in years. “My pop made a lot of bad decisions. Underestimating what both of us were capable of was just one of them.”
Ellie’s phone chirped, and Colt felt lightheaded as he watched her stand up and pick up a pregnancy test off the counter next to the sink. “Well, I hope you do better than him,” she said, shoving the piece of plastic into his hand. “This decision’s all mine, and I’m keeping it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was his own fault she was staying with her father for a few nights. He’d been careless and just a little too reckless. The contact on the new stock of Tesla Model S’s had been a friend of Ricky’s friend. He should have vetted him better. He’d been too blinded by how good of a deal it was. But it was a mess from the start, and now they owed a crew in West Adams seven million in either cash or vehicles. At least he hadn’t gotten arrested. He’s pretty sure Ellie would have murdered him if that had been the case.
But he’d gotten them involved in a bad deal. It was 100% his fault. Not only was Ellie pissed at him for not being appropriately cautious with their business, but pregnancy had reduced her fuse significantly. She’d gone off on him when he’d returned from the drop with the terrible news. He didn’t blame her for wanting to take a few days away from him and the shop. He figured it would go a long way if he’d worked out a safe way to repay their debt by the time she came back, hence staying late in his office, trying to brainstorm the quickest way out of this mess.
At some point he must have nodded off in his chair at his desk, because suddenly he bolted awake, disoriented and panicked, grabbing for the handgun he kept in his top drawer before he recognized Ellie standing in his doorway. He let out a rough breath and moved to offer her his chair, but she just shook her head.
“It won’t be worth the effort it takes to stand up again,” she said, reading his intentions in a second. “I was waiting for you at home, but when it hit midnight and you weren’t back, I thought I might find you here.”
“I thought you were gonna stay with your dad for a few more days.”
“He was asking a lot of questions about us that I didn’t exactly want to answer. Besides, I figured you might need some help coming up with a plan.” Her hands rested on top of her stomach. She still had three weeks until her due date, and Colt had no idea how was going to stand up if she got any bigger. Not that he told her that.
“It's my mess, Ellie. I can take care of cleaning it up.”
She shook her head, rubbing her hands along her bump. “That’s the thing, Colt. Your messes impact all three of us. So even if it’s not my fault we’re seven million in the hole at that moment, I need to help you fix things. And the two of us working together has always gotten us better results than either of us working independently.
“But Colt, I need you to take a step back from this ‘high risk, high reward’ approach. It was one thing when it was just you and me, but we both need to be a bit more careful going forward. Our kid deserves parents that are alive and not incarcerated, alright?”
He sighed but nodded. “I just don’t want us to lose our edge. But I get it, Ellie. I do.”
She sighed as well before she said, “Come on. Pack up your stuff and meet me at home. We can work on solving this from the comfort of our bed, okay?”
“Sure thing. I’ll see you there.” 
She gave him a little smile, so forced and empty it nearly shattered him, before turning and walking out the door. He wished he knew how to earn her trust back. But she was like him. She had high standards. Fixing things with her was going to take ages.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colt ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm his breathing. She had to come back. She had to. She had his daughter.
This fight had been bad, worse than any other than he could remember. When Ellie had seen the news coverage of Shaw’s shanking in prison, she’d turned to him, horror etched across her face. She hadn’t even needed to ask if it was him. She’d just known that he’d ordered it.
He tried to get her to understand, to see that he’d only done what he had to do. Shaw had his initial parole hearing coming up soon. If he so much as breathed a whiff of freedom, not only was their entire shop and crew in danger, but so were their lives and Margot’s. He was just taking a necessary precaution.
But she’d not wanted to hear any of it. She’d marched into Margot’s room, throwing her clothes and toys into a bag before hefting her out of bed and marching her out to her car, strapping her into her booster seat while she was still sound asleep. Ellie hadn’t so much as said a word to him as she drove off. Of course she’d ignored every call and text from him since that time.
He’d taken to riding past her father’s house daily. Her Shokai Fourier was always there, but he was never lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her or Margot in the yard. It had been nine days since he’d seen his kid, and he was getting desperate. He didn’t know what to do.
He sat along the edge of the cliff, watching the waves crash along. It wasn’t calming him tonight. Nothing was going to calm him. He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually he heard a car engine approaching behind him. He would have known that paint job in his sleep. The engine quieted and he felt Ellie approaching him, sitting down next to him, almost close enough to reach out and touch. Almost.
“This is it, isn’t it?” he asked, staring out over the Pacific, inhaling the salt of the sea air.
“Colt… I can’t raise her in a home where killing someone is an acceptable solution to a problem. You had to know I wouldn’t be able to stand by you when you ordered that hit.”
Her words stung, burned his soul. Of course he’d known that. She’d always had her lines her morals didn’t allow her to cross. But how did she expect him to just sit there and let a threat to the safety of his family potentially walk free?
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked. He could hear the tears in her voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, to see revulsion and disgust in the place of love and trust.
“What is there to say? Nothing I can do will make you come back.”
He heard her sigh before he felt her fingers, tiny and gentle against the back of his hand. He turned his hand over and threaded their fingers together more out of habit than anything. He knew her well enough to know that this wasn’t a gesture of love or hope.
“Colt, I’ll always love you, but…”
“I know, Ellie.”
“Are you even sorry?”
He paused, thinking over her question. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he’d always respected her too much to attempt to placate her with pretty sounding lies. “I don’t regret it at all,” he finally said, “I did it for both of you.”
She didn’t recoil from him at that. He hadn’t said anything she didn’t already know in her soul anyway. She’d always understood him in ways others just couldn’t. After all she was just like him. Just like him in so many ways.
They were only really different in one key way. She tried to pretend that there was a way to live the life they did and to be “good,” to keep to some sort of moral code. He knew that wasn’t the case. Or maybe she was just a better person than him. It was hard to tell right now, when he felt so hollow and drained.
“We’ll work out times for you to see Margot,” she said after a few minutes of silence. “I think we probably both want to keep lawyers out of this.”
Colt just grunted in acknowledgement. Ellie gave his hand a little squeeze before she tugged her hand free. She pushed herself up off the ground and walked back to her car. He couldn’t bring himself to watch her drive away, so he just stared ahead as he listened to her ignition start.
It was goodbye. He knew she’d never be back.
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Pacific Rim 3
I outline the plot of Pacific Rim 3 as experienced by me in a waking fever dream before and during today's 4am shift as a way to distract myself from real life stress with imaginary stress, written in breaks during work and in the parking lot before driving home because I'm going back to sleep when I get there and I want to preserve this fever dream first before I lose the details of it,
Ok I've been here for 3 hours and I don't know how to do a read more link on mobile I'm sorry you're getting this as is whether you want it or not I need to sleep goodbye
Dr. Gottlieb and Liwen are working on building their own portal to the Precursors to beat them up once and for all
Jake is seen giving an inspiring speech to a new wave of cadets who've been training with the old ones, now fully realized Jaeger pilots. Amara is everyone's favorite instructor.
Jake is very imposing and military and inspiring. Jake is everything the kids need him to be. Jake slips away from the party early and tears off his uniform before disappearing down a side street in his civilian clothes
Nate has the visible emotional human reaction of milk curdling and goes after him
Dr. Gottlieb and Liwen Shao are talking to someone about how they're making progress on the rift but they need help. Someone in particular who knows about alien tech. He's coming in on the next flight, actually. The person they're explaining this to gives a disbelieving "no..."
NEWTON
Wakes up in his house in the middle of fuckass nowhere. Somewhere away from technology he could theoretically use For Evil, or people he could theoretically hurt. This is, however, a self-imposed isolation, as he seems to have been granted his freedom, conditionally.
We see his morning routine, featuring normal stuff like making coffee, panic attack in the shower ft. indistinct memories of the Precursors, taking a massive dose of PPDC-granted experimental medication, starting the car, another indistinct alien trauma flashback, listening to the radio on the way to the airport where people appear to recognize him and he low-key has a panic attack because oh God everyone knows what I did
Jake leaves the bar and runs into Nate, who gives him the old Argh Argh Responsibility And Pride talk and Jake is like yeah man I know shut up
They have a fistfight in the rain and the neon lights in the alley outside the bar
No one properly wins because they've drifted so many times and they can predict each other's attacks but they both land a few and take a few, Jake gets hit a bit more because he's drunk
They both end up just sitting in the rain feeling sorry for themselves
Nate: Jules proposed to her girlfriend.
Jake: I know
Nate: they're getting married.
Jake: yeah that usually happens when someone proposes
So Jules wasn't going to end up with either of them and they're both sad about it. Nate suddenly suggests they go back in the bar. He'll buy Jake a drink to make up for beating him up. Jake is like ok sure but the drink's gonna be soda because I was LEAVING the bar because I was ALREADY drunk
They share a Soda Of Angst at the bar and talk about how they're gonna die alone. Jake says "at least we've got each other" and it's impossible to tell if he's joking. Nate is like "you know what this place isn't that bad we should come back sometime."
Newton reaches the lab. He is terrified of Liwen and awkward around Hermann. He instinctively calls Liwen "boss" and she reminds him matter-of-factly that they're working as equals now, "since you ruined my life's work."
Hermann asks how the medication is working and Newton indicates that it works fine but he still gets anxiety about it not being enough. Hermann promises him it's been proven effective, thus why the PPDC let him out of his crimes against humanity iron cell of shame. It's revealed that what they're giving him is a stronger dose of a medication originally developed for burned-out Jaeger pilots with unmanageable symptoms, and that it blocks out memories related to the drift--and since this is how the Precursors were reaching him, this works to block out their influence. The cost is that Newton doesn't remember much of anything past building his own neural bridge. He knows it happened but the details won't load. He's constantly worrying that it's not enough, that the Precursors will come back, and is taking a dangerously high dose that gives him constant hand tremors and worse insomnia than usual.
The first time he and Hermann are left alone they have an uncomfortable attempt at talking which gradually turns into an argument about nothing in particular. Newt keeps calling him Hermann but it sounds Wrong and Hermann hasn't been allowing people to just use his first name here and he finally snaps at Newton to stop it and he's like "oh my God I can't call you your NAME? what the hell am I supposed to call you??"
Newt says something angsty and Hermann says something like 'yes well the nicest thing that ever happened to me was drifting with a dead and decaying piece of kaiju viscera' and he says it sardonically but he's serious
Newt doesn't remember any context for the time they drifted.
Newt assumes he's being maliciously sarcastic and starts SCREAMING at him
Hermann just looks at him in shock at first then just lets him go for a little while
Eventually shutting his mouth by jabbing him under the chin with his cane and saying, very quietly and coldly, "get out of my lab"
Newton gets out of the lab
Newton runs into Nate and Jake at The Angst Bar and they recognize him but he has no idea who they are but he's willing to just roll with it at this point and asks them if they know Hermann well enough to give him advice
"like that was sarcasm right? I'm pretty sure he was making fun of me but now I'm less sure idk"
Nate's: no he's immune to sarcasm
Jake: yeah it's kinda funny
Nate: *the gaze*
Jake: I mean, nothing wrong with that, but yeah if he was being sarcastic that'd be first time it's happened as far as I can tell
Newt: are. Are you telling me. That someone actually. For some reason. Offered me a sincere compliment. And. I yelled at him
Jake: that's your call, I mean, you know him better than us, right? You guys were friends right?
Newton, who doesn't remember any of these people:
Nate: I mean I wasn't there, only way to tell is to go back and ask him
Newt: aaaaaaa
Newton goes back and Liwen is like "hey I've got no idea what's going on here but can you weirdos just act normal for two seconds so we can get some work done" and Hermann and Newt both just kinda. Laser focus on rift stuff
Remember the guy with the "no why would you involve Newton"reaction? No because he's but important and has no name or real identity? Yeah ok every Pacific Rim movie needs one Designated Douchebag to cause Interpersonal Drama and this guy is it. I'll call him DD for short
DD shows up and is like oh my God you actually turned Newton loose in the lab?? Why would you do this we're all going to die
Everyone just ignores him
Designated Douchebag has the self-importance of a high elf and the confidence of a fucking walnut and doesn't like being ignored
And starts talking directly to Newton, which really freaks Newton out but he continues pretending to ignore him
DD: so you're safe now? Not going to start speaking alien gibberish?
Newton: don't plan on it
Hermann, without turning around: DD you may not like to hear this but it was never your business who we brought in to assist, we don't need your permission, and complaining about Newton now that he's already here is certainly not going to do any good.
DD: alright fine but you'd better keep a close eye on him.
DD: anyways Newton tell your girlfriend I said hi
Newton, blank: who?
DD: you know, Alice?
Newton's face registers several emotions as he grapples with a name from the buried memories-confusion, disgust, terror-mostly shock
There is an abrupt cut
Liwen, thinking her two colleagues were acclimated to each other enough to allow her to leave the room and get tea without disaster, is walking back down the hallway talking with a lab tech when they hear the sound of something breaking
A moment later the doors to the lab are flung open and DD is forcibly ejected, collapsing on the floor in front of them. Dr. Gottlieb exits the lab behind him, holding his cane like a cricket bat. There is a muffled sound of Newton yelling OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING
Liwen backs out of range of cane damage and sips her tea, mildly intrigued. The lab tech starts to run for help and nearly crashes into Nate and Jake, who came running to see what the yelling was about.
Nate: what is--
Dr. Gottlieb, panting with restrained bloodlust: HELLO SIRS GOOD TO SEE YOU I BELIEVE THERE'S BEEN A SECURITY BREACH BECAUSE THIS FELLOW HAS JUST BEEN CASUALLY CHATTING ABOUT RESTRICTED CLASS-J49 INFORMATION PLEASE LOCK HIM UP
DD: it's COMMON KNOWLEDGE and he ATTACKED me
Dr. Gottlieb: YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID SIR!! *He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes some blood off the handle of his cane*
Nate: WHAT is happening
Newton: *trying to have a quiet hysterical laughter meltdown in the lab before anyone remembers he's there*
Anyways next plot point. An alien shows up
Not a Precursor! A nice alien
Listen if PR:U gets to pull all that bullshit with Mt Fuji I'm allowed to add aliens okay
Hermann should have a nice non-genocidal alien friend I think he deserves it
Anyways the alien is clearly a different species than the Precursors (or Kaiju) and seems friendly but they can't communicate with it, the linguistics team is working on it but it's going to take A Lot of Work
Hermann goes "hm I've got a quicker and more accurate option"and wheels out the drift interface
This alien's mind doesn't link well with human minds but Hermann is a pro and powers through
He gets seasick and throws up and finally comes out shaky with a bloody nose and eye but he's managed to communicate!
The alien is a diplomat from another world the Precursors attempted to colonize, they survived because the Precursors underestimated the humans' resilience and spread themselves too thin, trying to invade earth and the alien homeworld at the same time and then getting distracted dealing with the humans, which left the aliens time to prepare their defense
They're here to help with the war effort, they don't have a lot that's relevant to current human scientific understanding but they can help fill in some of the gaps in the human's knowledge about rifts
They're making progress! Yay!
Things are getting serious, training montage Jake and Nate and the new pilots getting ready to kick ass
Newton finally brings himself to apologize to Hermann and explain he was confused but the net progress here is still zero because then they immediately have ANOTHER argument
Hermann has started writing his notes in the alien's language, he wants to make sure he can remember it well enough to help the linguistics team, and it's also beautifully precise and he just loves it and loves that he's able to write it, come on who wouldn't be proud of being the first contact human
Newton sees a bunch of notes of Alien Gibberish (to him) and gets Bad Vibes
Newton doesn't think they can trust the alien, Hermann does but his proof is mainly "I can tell because I drifted with them" and Newton 1. Doesn't remember what that's like and 2. DOES remember that the last time he thought it was a good idea to drift with an alien he ended up nearly killing literally everyone on earth
They yell at each other some more
At some point Hermann tries to deescalate and asks why they can't be friends again and Newton, still yelling, says "people keep acting like we're friends and I don't remember it! As far as I'm concerned this is all we ever had! I barely remember you at all and what I do remember is that we hated each other!"
Hermann: ....I never hated you. .. alright, colleagues, then? We've got a rift to build
Newton, still hyperventilating slightly: ok ok yeah sure yeah
Interlude: Jules gets married!
She asks Hermann to walk her down the aisle (where she meets her wife, who walked down the opposite aisle to meet in the middle)
Newton, protesting "I don't know I don't feel like I should be here," is physically dragged into the venue by Liwen, who is telling him that this is a diplomatic event it's his duty to be at.
She drags him over to Hermann and settles between them, soaking in the chaotic gay science panic vibes
She seems to be enjoying herself
Jules sees Hermann in the audience and an evil gleam comes into her eye
She has a strong arm
She hurls her bouquet directly at his face
Hermann ducks, panic granting him lightning quick reflexes
The bouquet, travelling at about Mach 5, zooms past him and hits Jake Pentecost squarely in the nose
He inhales several petals of baby's breath and gets slapped in the eyelid by a vine and goes into a dramatic coughing fit. Nate pounds him on the back.
Alien, speaking through a translating device they've got set up (it isn't perfect but it works on a basic level mostly): is it bad luck to touch the flowers?
Hermann, still slightly panicked from the near miss: no it's ahh, there's this silly tradition that whoever catches the bouquet is likely to get married next, and ah, as you see there, sometimes a bride with a sense of humor will, err, intentionally aim it at someone who, uh, didn't necessarily want it?
Alien: I think I understand. My sibling often tells me to go the southern hills of ^°^=^^°^°^^°°= to find a mate, though I have told them many times that I have no such desire.
Nate and Jake are like "ok neither of us have a date I guess we're drinking our sorrows away together at the reception" and do that
And maybe make out a little bit
Neither of them is ready to deal with Feelings so they both just blame it on the alcohol and try not to think about it too hard
Newton, venting @ someone, explains that there's an empty space in his memory where he knows that that something about Hermann is supposed to go and it doesn't feel like the other, worse memories he's blocked out, it feels like he lost something precious, but he has no idea what that is
Hermann tells Newton he's been working on a device that might block out the Precursors' influence without affecting his memory, so he can use all of his knowledge. And so he isn't constantly so confused about who he does and doesn't know but he doesn't say that part
It connects to his skin a bit like a drift interface
Newton is terrified but enthusiastic about maybe being Less Confused All the Time
The fact that he is guarded by a full security detail to make sure he doesn't Become Evil Again the whole time he's going off his meds really doesn't help the stress much
Memories start coming back but they're confused and jumbled and at first he's not much better off
The Precursor nightmares are about what he expected but he keeps hearing Hermann's voice in there too and he's not sure why and he can't remember when he heard it like that
Meanwhile Hermann keeps needing to drift with the alien to clarify important details about the rift that they don't know how to translate into human terms, but it fucks him up a little bit more each time he does it until the last time he passes out for like at hour and wakes up disoriented with a nosebleed that just won't stop and Jake orders him to stop drifting
He's ok with that because they've got the information they needed anyway!
IT'S TIME, THEY'RE SENDING THE JAEGERS INTO THE RIFT
Newton, despite his misgivings, reluctantly joins Liwen, dr. Gottlieb and the alien in command to supervise the mission, still wearing the device and getting random bursts of confused memory
Jake and Nate are piloting the Lady Avenger (did u know gypsy is a slur and they prefer to be called Romani) and go though first and start punching Precursors and their bodyguard Kaiju
Newton goes very still and just stares at Hermann for like a solid minute while he's trying to work, his expression shifting to something new
Hermann, softly: what?
Newton, smiling: I remember you.
Hermann, furiously trying to interpret alien data: is this really the best time??
It's a close fight across the rift, the Precursors are on their home turf and the Jaegers are not, fighting in a bizarre low-gravity environment that doesn't really have floors
Their base is set up differently than expected and Hermann decides he needs to check something with the alien. By drifting with them. He's still bleeding uncontrollably after the last stunt that got him banned but he's determined to do it because It's Necessary
Newton takes the headset from him and puts it on instead
It feels Bad
But then he sees another planet, beautiful, so different from his own yet so similar. He sees aliens attacked by monsters from the deep, responding more or less how the humans had, moving inland, building useless walls, building their own monsters for defense. He sees the alien diplomat losing friends and family.
He sees the journey to earth, and drifting with Hermann. He sees the alien's memories of Hermann, and Hermann's memories in the drift. He sees how Hermann remembers him. What he forgot. What the Precursors had blinded him to.
He doesn't have time to think about it because he's feverishly trying to translate the knowledge he's receiving into data that works with their human technology so they can help the Jaegers and there's blood dripping from his face onto the controls but it's there, in the back of his mind, he knows now. Hermann missed him.
The Lady Avenger is hit and Jake is knocked unconscious. They begin to drift downwards as Nate, unable to move the Jaeger alone, yells at Jake with no response
Newton disconnects from the drift, nearly blacks out, and has to sit down for a minute. When he comes back around he sees the Jaegers are in trouble--none completely disabled yet, but they need more help
Newton has an idea
Newton: ok I'm gonna do something stupid. *To his security detail* listen I need you to aim your guns at me and shoot if you think I'm out of control
Liwen, with zero hesitation, reacting quicker than anyone else in the room, pulls out a gun and sticks it right in his face
Newton: see, yeah, that's what I was saying, like that. Thanks boss, glad someone here's got guts.
Liwen: not your boss
Newton: I kinda like saying it tho
Liwen: hm. I'll allow it.
Newton: ok. Hermann--uh
Hermann, hearing his name said right this time: it's ok
Newton: :) ok cool I'm going to deactivate the blocking device I need you to turn it back on as soon as I squeeze your hand, can you do that
Hermann: absolutely.
The Precursors are a hive mind. In battle, when pressed, they can force their thoughts outwards, confusing and scrambling the communications of other species while keeping in contact with each other. This is going well and normal until there's an unexpected distortion which resolves into Newton's voice
Yelling WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS I'M BACK
(epic Tom Morello riff)
Newton can't keep the connection open for more than a few seconds before they start to overwhelm him, Hermann pulls him back. It was enough to confuse the Precursors and give the jaegers an advantage.
During the delay, Jake wakes up. He's disoriented and in pain and so is Nate, still linked to him, but they can move again. They one-hit-k/o the Precursor that was creeping up on them, turn around, and realize they've drifted almost right into the reactor they've been looking for
So they blow it up
Hermann is still holding Newton's hand as everyone else celebrates. He looks at Newton for confirmation, who nods in relief.
"they're gone. Well, those ones are, anyway."
Humans start opening rifts across the galaxy to kick Precursor ass across multiple star systems
(epic Tom Morello riff intensifies)
Humans team up with multiple alien races previously menaced by the Precursors to take out their common enemy. Jaeger tech is combined with alien science, humans and aliens drifting
They figure out how to use a recording of Newton's Precursor-influenced brainwaves as a weapon to confuse them
So basically Newton makes a recording of himself screaming at the Precursors that's weaponized by teams across the galaxy and it's incredibly cathartic
Jake, in a hospital, is woken up by an infuriating snoring noise. Nate is sleeping in a chair by his bed. He's both annoyed and touched. Mostly the latter.
Hermann writes a book in what is now his third language, the alien script precise and beautiful
We see Newton and Hermann getting dressed together for an Important Event, they're both complaining about having to go but seem not to mind too much. Newton ties his tie too loose, like in the good old days. Hermann fixes it for him.
No one died
The free peoples of the galaxy took down the Precursors with no casualties and the power of screaming
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popculturebuffet · 3 years
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Darkwing Duck: My Valentine Ghoul Review aka A Bad Episode Even by Valentine’s Day Episode Standards
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Welcome back Darkwings of the Night. It’s time to go back to St. Canard for the very review that got me to finish up my look at the episodes that should’ve lead up to Just Us Justice Ducks and the episode itself last month. While I probably COULD have reviewed this one before finsihing that as continuity’s pretty loose here, I wanted to see Negaduck’s proper introduction first. So was it worth it?
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Yeah while I was glad to get one of my retrospectives done and free up some room for other stuff, this episode..was an objective disapointment and might be even worse than “Brush with Oblivion”. If your curious to know why and aren’t already lobbing a harpoon at me for bashing an episode you liked, join me under the cut. 
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On PAPER this episode sounded really good. Negaduck trying to seduce Morgana back to crime and in general after Darkwing once again neglected her is not at all a bad premise and the in episode conflict of Darkwing’s obnoxious supscioson of his girlfriend being an ex con, COULD’VE been really interesting. But there’s a reason Could’ve was in all caps folks: This episode is not very well put together and it’s gender politics have aged like fine santa liquor left split in a bathtub surronded by toxic waste for 20 years, and tastes just as bad. Trust me I know. My colon still hasn’t recovered. So let’s get into WHY shall we? 
So we open with a date in a graveyard with Darkwing and Morgana, unsuprisingly though Darkwing isn’t the fondest of their meal which... look like someone scrambled the Star-Spawn of Cthulu. He’s going to be pissed.. especially once I try some. Look i’m very curious and very hungry. 
But things take a turn when Darkwing brings up diamonds, because he’s fully insensitive enough to bring them up in front of his girlfriend. She does take the truth in stride: he’s not proposing he’s simply hung up on a case of diamonds going missing, and no solution and thus might have to cut the date short. She offers to go with him but he shoots her down, saying the last time she helped she turned him into a rutabega.. instead of you know TRAINING her and helping her on her aim.  Then the episode looses me.. and about how long into the episode are we exactly? Not taking the theme song into acount?
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Yup. It takes around 2 minutes, with some change. for the episode to become absolutley terrible. But first off Morgana suddenly flies off the table claming he dosen’t trust her for being a former criminal and zaps him in vengance.. which is assualt. Cartoony assault sure but it still hurts and his reactoin is STILL pure feer as he’s turned into some kind of ball... I mean.. it’s not like he can’t fight crime like that. Some of the best have done it. 
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But still she goes to physical violence at the drop of a hat this episode and Darkwing seems more than a little afraid of that happening again. Just... wow.  I thought, having finished the Legend of the Three Cablleros, i’d be done with writing so poor a character comes off as a domestic abuser, mental in that case phsyical here, but here we are. Now this is untetional so I don’t blame the writers as much.. but I still heft some blame on them for being SO bad at writing a woman that she can’t get angry without phsyically attacking her partner or grasping the implications there. 
Oh and it gets worse. Yes, it somehow gets worse from “Morgana attacking darkwing for upsetting her”. Darkwing proves to be pretty vile himself, as when Morgana accuses him of not trusting her due to her criminal past.... he says “You know what they say once a crook always a crook. “
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My.. fucking.. god.... the show is stacking unfortunate implications on top of itself like lego bricks. And yes attitudes towards prisoners were much worse back then, I get that. Dosen’t make it tolerable to HEAR someone spouting that bullshit, let alone our protaganist. And while it doesn’t make her right to shoot lighting at him, as she does after this or attack him before... it does mean he’s a massive, mentally abusive dick who refuses to trust his partner who reformed FOR HIM, just because she used to do crimes. It takes a special kind of bad writing to screw up so badly that two of your heroes are immensley unikeable in the span of minutes but they did. CONGRADULATIONS DUMBASS!
So yeah Morgana breaks up with him and he tries to go after her  and Gosalyn, who was there the whole time with eek and squeak,  decides she needs to get the two back together. 
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I mean at least Gosalyn MEANS well. As a result despite her helping them not being a good idea, she’s one of the most likeable characters in the episode. At least for now. The most likeable?
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Yes. REALLY. Now granted he’s as much of a bastard as always; After seeing Morg’s tantrum he wants to seduce her back to evil to help with his diamond scheme, unsurprisingly he’s the one stealing them and his plan to do so.. is not all that bright as he fakes being good to get into her good graces.. forgetting that he’s going to need to show her he’s bad again for any of his plan to work, as during the climax i’ts revealed he’s using a candy company as a front for diamond smuggling. Now granted that.. is actually really clever as no one’s going to think to check a shipment of choclate boxes for diamonds unless their tipped off and he even mentions starting a candy company earlier, so that being his scheme dosen’t come out of left field and i’ts  a clever misdirect that you’d THINK he was lying about the Candy Company.  But while Negsy doesn’t’t escape the contagious case of stupidity everyone’s got this episode, he’s still entertaining as ever and Jim cummings manages to make saying “Well be the best of pals” pants crappingly terrifiying. So Negaduck is a delight as always even if his plan makes little sense, as his way of going about it is still clever: he fakes being good and both uses this to make darkwing jealous, thus making him seem irational, and to provide a shield and also forces himself on their valentine’s date. He even gets past Morgana rightfully beign supsicous by playing to her past. So yeah not the best plan OVERALL but damn if he still isn’t awesome.  They visit a carnival, ah feels like home, though this one has a freak show where MORGANA feels like she’s home. After trying to fry Darkwing and making him look like the bad guy Negaduck manages to seperate the two in the tunnel of love then use darkwing’s own jackassery against him by claming he left saying once a crook always a crook. He hten.. comes on way too strong, first asking if she’s thought about going back to crime when they get back to her place and then isn’t resceptive when he just tries to fully turn on the charm. Oh and Darkwing walks in and thinks his gilrfriend is cheating despite her not returning Negaducks affections because he’s a douchebag.  Gosalyn is in the house at the same time as after Negaducks earlier deception, Eek and Squeak flew her back to Morgana’s house to use the Necronomiduck, which talks like he just walked out of Beast’s house because of course he does, and gets a love potion.. which they accidently spray on Darkwing instead. So we do get one of the few GOOD parts of the episode where Darkwing acts all buddy buddy to negaduck and Negaduck even gets rid of him just by telling him to go jump off a cliff. And the combination of Drake acting all sachrine again, much like posiduck, and Negaduck’s clear annoyance and confusion is just comedy gold. 
Sadly that ends and Drake returns and a fight breaks out with Morgana accidently freezing darkwing and when trying to freeze negaduck, he simpy reflects it back the obsconds with her ice cube. 
While Gosalyn and co thaw her dad out, Negaduck explains the whole choclate scam and Morgana refuses and they fight, with Negaduck covering her in chocolate.. then darkwing when he shows up as you’d expect. Darkwing however has buzzsaw cufflinks, a wonderful 60′s batman type gag, and saves them both.. btu the love potion ends up on Gosalyn who covers her dad and possible step mom in frosting
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Thankfully it wears off fast, and morgana gets the idea to put the love potion, which is air born into the gas gun, finally getting Darkwing to trust her and blasting Negaduck, then suckerpunching him when he gets close. Oh and despite her plan being VERY obvious , Darkwing STILL questions her flirting with the guy. 
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So the day is saved and we end with him questioning her order at dinner that night and her .. attacking him. And Gosalyng saying “Well you always hurt the ones you love”
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Final Thoughts: .I do not like this episode. I do not like it on a moat, on a boat or with a goat or in any way shape or form even though that breaks the ryhme. Reviewing it only had me finding MORE problems with it. Morgana and Darkwing are so unsympathetic here, with her violence towards him making it seem like “Aw all couples are just the woman chasing the man around with the frying pan.. or lighting bolts in this case” even though that’s sexist as hell at BEST and makes light of domesdtic abuse towards men at worst.  Darkwing gets off no better, being THAT kind of asshole who assumes just because someone used to be a criminal they always will be. Which even in pastiche makes no sense as I can name tons of superheroes, a who USED to be criminals or villians: Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Black Widow, Luke Cage (Before becoming a superhero), Scott Lang Ant-Man, Hal Jordan Green Lantern, Cassandra Cain, Simon Baz, Mach 10, Songbird, Quicksilver, Rogue, Wonder Man, and Emma Frost. And that’s not getting into the number of heroes, including many on this list, who went evil fo ra bit and came back from it.. some of whom are on this list. Usually his black and white insanity schick works but the episode does nothing to punish him for it and instead makes Morgana seem just as irrational by attacking him. 
While this episode dosen’t use the love potion badly, thank god, with morgana even calling it a bad idea.. i’ts all I can give it outside of negaduck. The love potion and negaduck gags are both great.. but everything else is just so toxic and odious it makes it very hard to enjoy. And so.. this wins the DUBIOUS honor of being the worst Darkwing Duck episode i’ve seen so far. The plot’s weak, filled with horrible outdated ideas even by the time this was made, and no one is likeable, even Negaduck wears out his once he starts getting a bit too pushy with morgana. All in all a waste of potetial and a good episode. Until the next rainbow, this episode can step on a rusty railroad spike and get tetnus. 
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Afterparty
“Stop, what are you doing?” I squeal and try to push Harry off of me. I mean really, how old is he? Why is he always trying to mock me until I explode and he has to apologise the next day, after I usually storm out on him.
I just don´t get it, why he always is like this. He does the most stupid and childish things, triggering my anger and annoyment constantly. If it was for Louis, I would get it. He is my best friend since I can think but Harry…I just met him a few years ago and barely saw him after our first meeting. Now, as the boys of One Direction are nearing their hiatus, they were more often in London and so we see each other more often.
I don´t want to complain, I am happy to have my best friend around more often, during their crazy ride in the music industry we barely had the chance to catch up, feeling like everything was happening at once and the five years were over in just a second.
“Harry just for once behave. My god, I thought I was the childish one” Louis sighs as he enters the kitchen. Harry finally let go of me and frowns at his friend. He puts the cream away, he tried to spray in my face for several minutes and walks out on us.
“Thanks Lou. I was literally going to stab him. What the fuck is his problem?” I ask and grab the cream to put it back in the fridge.
“I really have no clue; he is different when he is around you. Maybe he is insecure or he just thinks it´s funny. I don´t know. You ok, though?” he asks and I nod, shooting a fake smile at him. He raises an eyebrow at me, but he understands my silence and doesn´t bother to ask. I am very thankful for his silence and look at him. He looks stressed and tired and as he now ruffles through his hair and leans back on the counter, I watch him concerned.
“You really are taking a break, aren´t you? I don´t want you to continue with music and this shit immediately because you literally look like crap” I ask and he nods in agreement.
“Sure, taking a break was my plan since the hiatus came up. I need to rest a bit and spend time with my loved ones” he explains and I smile sheepishly at him. I know that I am included in the term loved ones.
“Louis, Y/N! Are you ever planning on getting your butts out here again?” Niall shouts from the living room and I roll my eyes at Lou.
“Coming, Ni!” I shout back and grab Lou´s hand. He snakes his arm around my shoulders and presses me against his side, as we walk back in the living room. Liam and Niall are spread on the couch and Harry is sitting on the massive armchair in front of the fireplace. I am happy, they decided to light the fireplace, because it is quiet chilly outside. And I like the crackle and the smell of the fire place. Sadly, I have none in my flat, that would be the best thing ever.
“Finally, if you wanna be all lovey-dovey you should get to Lou´s” Niall says annoyed and presses play on the remote before we even have the chance to take our spots. I decide, because I am still freezing, to sit near the fire on the floor, which was ultimately next to Harry in his armchair.
“You cold? Want a blanket?” he asks me, but I shake my head. I am fine but also a bit irritated because his concern.
“I would prefer it, if Niall would stop making such fucking bullshit comments about Y/N and I. We are friends, nothing more” Lou says and I knew he was going to say something about Niall´s comment. He hates it, when one of the boys says something like that, he was always scared it would affect our friendship in a negative way.
“Oh, give it a rest, Lou. We all know, Y/N would never ever date anyone of us. She knows us way too well, right Y/N?” Niall asks me and I smile at him. He basically is right. I know Louis way too long. He is like my childhood Bestie, he always protected me in school. I had a crush on him, when we met, though, but for him I was always like a younger sister. As if he hadn´t enough sisters. We met in the school choir and then again in the football club in Doncaster and he teased me, a girl would never make a goal when he is the goalkeeper. He pissed me off so bad, I took the challenge and finished him. He was so impressed after that, he invited me over to his parents´ house and we became friends. Just like that. Sure, we had some major fights over time and even didn’t speak to each other for a few months, but it never lasted.
“I would definitely not date Louis. That would be so weird” I answer and Louis nods in agreement.
“Would be disgusting, not that she is not beautiful. The man, who gets to marry her is one of the luckiest ones in the world, but we just know each other too long. Wouldn’t ruin our friendship, also” he agrees and shoots a smile at me. I look over at Niall, mouth full of popcorn, staring at the screen. He is not even listening anymore, so I shrug my shoulders and watch the show, Niall picked for us. It isn´t long after Louis and Liam fall asleep on the couch and I stand up.
“Time for me to head home, guys. Goodnight” I whisper, so I don’t wake up the sleeping beauties. I walk to the front door and put my shoes on.
“Care, if I take you home? Don’t like the feeling of you going all alone by tube at this hour” Harrys asks behind me and I look at him sceptical. He wants to take me home? Since when is he so concerned about my wellbeing?
“I know the way home; I have walked it so many times from here. I´ll be fine. Thanks for the offer” I reject him and grab my coat. He helps me by holding it up, so I can easily slide my arms in the sleeves. As I open the front door, I freeze. Oh no. It is pouring outside and a very cold breeze is hitting my face. I have no umbrella and no hood, nothing. I will be soaked before I have even walked out of the gate.
“Sure, you don´t want to take my offer?” Harry asks again and I look at him again. His green eyes stare into mine and my heart skips a beat. Wait, what? Why is my heart skipping a beat when Harry looks me in the eye?
“I guess I´ll take it then” I answer and he smiles happily, slipping on his boots and grabbing his coat and an umbrella to escort me to his car. As I sit in the passenger’s seat, I look around and scan my surroundings, as I never have been in his car before. It´s all black and very modern. I breathe in, to see, if the car smells new but all I smell is the familiar smell of fire and an expensive after shave or perfume. It smells like Harry. Wait, why do I know how he smells? What kind of freak am I?
Harry gets in the driver´s seat and starts the engine. He smiles and turns down the volume of the radio. As he sits a few seconds, his smell hits me fully. I try not to breathe in too obviously but I really really like his smell.
He drives safely and relaxed and taps his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. He is a musician with his whole heart, even Lou is not as much into music as him. The awkward silence is interrupted by him asking:
“Are you coming to our last performance in a week?” I look at him from the side, seeing the straight line of his nose, his jawline and the light stubble on his cheeks. His long lashes, framing his green eyes. His really beautiful green eyes.
“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t miss Lou´s last performance with the band. Why you asking? Don’t want me to come?” I return the question and he looks at me, before returning his eyes to the street.
“No, why would you think that? Of course, I want you to come” he sounds a bit offended and I lough dryly.
“Why do I think that? Because you have been nothing but a jerk when I am around” I explain to him and he hits the break, so hard that I am hurled forward into the seatbelt. He parks the car on the side of the street and turns the engine off. We aren’t even near my home. Oh no, what did I just do? I am really not in the mood for a fight with Harry.
“I am sorry, if that is what you think about me. I thought I was being funny around you, I wanted you to like me. I am sorry, I don’t dislike you at all, Y/N” he says and I look at his beautiful face. He is hands down, the most attractive guy, I have ever seen in my life. But I never told Lou about this, I knew he would make fun of me. If he had been nicer to me in the past, I would probably have fallen for him. Very hard. It helped, that he was a jerk.
“Oh…I, well...I don’t know what to say” I stammer and blush. He likes me? He really does? Shit.
“I hope you accept my apology” he says and I nod slowly.
“Y-Yeah, sure. I accept your apology but I would prefer you being yourself around me, not some douchebag I want to kick in his ass” I answer and he smiles, showing me his dimples. For god´s sake, how can a man be so beautiful?
“I think I can manage that. But I have to warn you, I am quite a gentleman if I don’t try to impress a beautiful girl with being funny” he says and winks at me. Holy fuck, he thinks I´m beautiful. The laugh that escapes my lips sounds nervous, I can hear it.
“That’s okay, I think. Gentleman is way better than jerk…so…you actually like me? I am so confused right now” I confess and look down at my nails. Could get a manicure soon.
“Yes, of course. You are so nice and funny to be around, how could I even not like you. This is so weird…you thinking I didn’t like you. It´s so far from the truth” his smile is nearly from ear to ear now. What is he saying? I am absolutely confused and unsure how to react and as he touches my hand with his, I just jump back as far as I can in the car seat. He bites his bottom lip and starts the engine again. Without another word he takes me home safely.
A week later
I spray some of my favourite perfume on my wrist as I finish my look for the night. It is the day of One Directions last performance. I am so happy for the boys, to finally end this. They were so unhappy with their management and when Zayn left, they decided very quick to take a break and let it rest for some years. Of course, their fans were shocked, but I know how hard this decision was for each member of the band. But this time in five years, they all finally thought of themselves first. Their health, their time and their life in the spotlight. They all just want some peace. I sigh and swipe my hands over my dress. It is simple, black, no cleavage or anything. It is like me. Simple and plain.
I get there nearly too late because of the tube. We were stuck in a tunnel for nearly 20 minutes and I just arrive in time to get to my seat next to the boys´ families.
“Hey, good to see you, Y/N” Jo says and hugs me tight. I greet the other Tomlinson´s and take my seat next to a gorgeous blonde woman.
“Gemma, Anne have you met Y/N before? She is Louis´ childhood friend” Jo says to the blonde girl next to me and the woman behind her. They both are gorgeous and smile at me friendly.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I am Harrys mum Anne and this is my daughter Gemma” Anne says and I shake her hand. Gemma looks just like Harry, when she smiles. Same dimples, same smile. Wow.
Finally, the band is announced and when they come on stage, the fans are so loud. I nearly get deaf by the screams. Eventually they get a bit quieter and when they sing their last song, we all stand on our feet, swaying to the words and looking up at them. I think I can say, we are all unbelievably proud of these guys. Maybe, we even cry a bit during their song and I see that Lou is moved as well. He pulls the boys into a tight hug afterwards and smiles and waves at us.
After their appearance we really don’t pay attention, but talk quietly to each other about the boy’s future and a lot more. Anne and Gemma are really nice and I like them very much.
“Are you all going to the after show party?” Gemma asks when we are finally allowed to stand up and walk around. The Fans spot the boys´ family and shout nice things. They wave back at them and I answer her question as the first one.
“I am going for sure” she smiles widely and she looks so much like Harry.
“Great, Mom won´t come so I´m gonna stick with you, if that’s alright?” she asks and I nod. I am happy she will accompany me. I think we go on really well with each other.
We all walk backstage to see, if the boys are ready to leave. It´s a big round of hugs and when I stand in front of my best friend, he smiles so wide, that I laugh at him amused.
“Honey, so glad you are here. Wouldn’t be the same without you” he says and hugs me really tight. I press my body against his, smiling like an idiot.
“I love you, Lou. Wouldn’t have missed it for anything” I say honestly and feel him pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“Leave something of her, for us to hug” Niall says laughing and I hug my favourite Irish Lad.
“Seriously, it was so emotional. I´m so happy for you all” I say and I mean every word. Niall smiles at me and I kiss his cheek soundly. He is sweaty and bright red, but I really don’t care.
“Thanks, Y/N” he says and I hug the next one in line, who happens to be Liam. We smile at each other and I kiss his cheek. We are not as close, as Niall and I but I like him. He is a nice guy and he always makes sure the boys behave properly in the public eye.
“Good to see you, love” Harry says with his deep and raspy voice, as I approach him. I can feel how Louis stares into my back, Harry never ever called me love before.
“Hi, Harry. How are you?” I ask him, as I hug him. His arms are wrapped up all around my body, it´s amazing. I can smell him and he breathes on my shoulder, so I get shivers. As I kiss his cheek, he closes his eyes for a second and I can feel him smiling.
Gemma and I drive together to the venue, where the party will be. As we enter the club, it is already really crowded and I take Gemmas hand, to not lose her. We finally find the boys and sit down next to them. They are talking with some other people and I turn my head, to see if I know someone else here. I see Louis sisters on the dancefloor. We sit there for a bit and try to have a conversation against the loud music until the boys are finished talking and join us. Harry slides in next to me on the bench and I hold my breath, as his thigh and arm touch mine.
“Hey little brother, how about getting the ladies a new drink?” Gemma asks from the right and Harry rolls his eyes at her.
“Yea, I´ll take another one, too” Niall and Lou say and Harry sighs.
“I´m coming with you, to help” I suggest to him and he doesn’t look as annoyed as before. He stands up and holds his hand in my direction, so help me up. I take it in my hand and follow him. As he orders, a man approaches me and looks at me knowingly. What is happening?
“Fancy a drink? You look like you could need one” he says and glides between Harry and me.
“Thanks, no. I´m fine” I answer and smile at him. His hand rests on my hip and I try to take a step back, but it is too crowded.
“Well, maybe you want to join me in my private booth up there. We could have some fun…together” he smiles slimy at me. I shudder in disgust. He is attractive but how fast can someone be unattractive just of their behaviour.
“No, thanks” I answer, no longer smiling. Harry, who was in a discussion with the barkeeper finally turns in my direction and looks confused at where I was standing before.
“Come on, this dress would be very nice on the floor of this club…I´ll pay all your drinks if you join me” he mumbles and comes closer. I try to push him away from me, as I meet Harrys eyes. He has this little wrinkle on his forehead, that usually pops up, when he thinks or is angry, and combs his long locks with his hand.
“Under no circumstances” I scowl and feel, how he presses his body onto mine. I shudder and pull at his hands on my back, very near my ass.
“Hey, you touching my girl?” Harry says and his voice is deep and more like an angry growl. His girl? The man turns around and is met by Harrys glowing eyes. Harry is nearly a head taller than him and stares him down. He immediately puts his hands up and apologizes to Harry.
“Sorry, mate. Didn’t know she was taken. No offense, sorry” he says and I let my breath out.
“How about apologizing to the lady, you harassed?” Harry asks and the guy stammers an apology, before he takes off into the crowd.
“Thank you” I say from the bottom of my heart. The barkeeper puts the first drinks on the bar and I slide a bit closer to Harry. Just in case.
“Sorry guys, I need to get a new bottle of Gin. Be right back” the barkeeper says and disappears. I am pushed from some ladies behind me and stumble against Harrys arm.
“Sorry, I was pushed” I say and shoot him an apologetic look. He just smiles and pulls me right in front of him. I am now encircled by him and the bar. I smell his cologne and the fire from his home and look up at his face. His piercing eyes wander over my face and I can´t hold it back.
“Your girl, huh?” I ask and a smile darts over his lips. I shake my head and can´t look away from him.
“Had to say something, was the best that came to my mind” he answers and shrugs his shoulders. He has left is jacket at the table and I can now see the tattoos on his toned chest, as his black blouse is opened quite a bit.
“What is this that, by the way?” I ask and touch his thigh in this bright red suit pants with an all-over flower print.
“You don’t like it? I think it´s great” he answers and shows me his thigh. I laugh and shake my head.
“Well it will definitely be remembered. Flower boy” he laughs and I hear the barkeeper say:
“Here you go” Harry grabs some of the drinks and winks at me. I follow him with the other drinks and hand them to Gemma, Lou and Liam. Harry has mine and gives it to me. We salute each other to the hiatus and a lot of free time.
Later that night, I am just a little bit tipsy, instead of Louis who already went home two hours ago, I find myself outside the venue to catch a bit of fresh air. Unbelievable how fast the last five years have passed. I am thinking of leaving soon as well, because it is really tiring to be with so many people. I danced with literally everyone in this club and my feet really hurt. I sigh and see the white cloud forming from my breath.
“Cold, huh?” I hear a familiar voice and turn around to face Harry. He´s wearing his flower suit jacket and smirks at me.
“Leaving already?” I ask him and he shakes his head.
“No, I was looking for you” he answers and I turn a light shade of red.
“You getting now overprotective since we spoke last week?” I smile and he sighs.
“Told you, I´m a gentleman” he says and I nod. He is right, he definitely behaved this night like a gentleman and if he keeps being so nice to me…I will be head over heels for him in no time. Oh god, this is going to be really hard.
“What are you staring at?” he asks and touches his face confused. I shake my head and press my lips together. I am really cold, considering I have no jacket.
“Nothing. I´m going to grab my things, I guess” I say and move past him. He follows me back inside and in the little corridor he grabs my hand. I look at him confused, as I look into his green eyes.
“Come with me, Y/N” he says very simply and I am even more confused.
“With you? Where? Why?” I ask and watch how his hand entwines our fingers. What the fuck is happening?
“Just with me, because…I have absolutely fallen for you” he says and I open my mouth in shock. What? Harry Styles is in love with me? How? I mean…what? My brain is sending error signals and I can´t even form a normal word.
“Please say something” he begs me and comes closer. His eyes seem insecure and scared.
“I don’t know what…I´m…I…” I stammer very intelligent and he laughs quietly.
“I am in love with you, Y/N. Do you feel the same? Can you love me?” he asks and I think about his words. I am not yet in love with him, but I have a crush on him, definitely. If I can love him in the future…guess we will see. I smile at him and nod.
“I think that could happen, yes” I answer and he beams happily at me, cupping my cheek with his warm and soft hand. He leans in and as his soft lips touch mine, I know this will be a tough but great journey. Being with Harry. It is a soft and tender kiss, completely different as what I expected from a Rockstar but afterwards, he smiles and leans his forehead on mine.
“Shall we?” he whispers and his eyes sparkle happily. I swear, I have never seen such mesmerizing green eyes.
“We shall” I answer and smile back, as we finally leave the venue, hand in hand.
  _____________________________________
So, this is my first one on here, I hope you like it and don´t be too harsh on me. Feedback is gladly appreciated!
Love, xx
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bangtanfancamp · 5 years
Text
the Devil wears Gucci-Part 3
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Masterlist
▪︎series Masterlist
▪︎Kim Taehyung x reader(featuring Kim Namjoon)
▪︎1.7k words
•Enemies to lovers au, fashion industry au, loosely devil wears Prada au, f*ckboy au, fluff, romance, angsty banter
As the dedicated personal assistant of the genius mind behind House of RM, the empire that rules the fashion industry, your world is turned upside down the day Namjoon personally asks you to train his newest hire- the eternally insufferable opposite Kim Taehyung.
(Not my photo. Credit to vantaeholic)
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(Tae’s lunch || Tae’s POV)
I used one of my fries to poke the others around my plate, trying to figure out how I’d screwed this up all ready. I know I tend to joke around a lot, but it always seems to put women at ease. Things go better when they’re laughing. And whose day isn’t better for being flirted with?
I just had to work for the one girl who got pissed off by it. Everyone likes me. So what was the problem? Even the women at the cafeteria here liked having me smile at them or tell them how beautiful they were. Women liked that kind of attention, right?
Everyone goes through their day trying to impress the world around them, but everyone else is so wrapped up in themselves that they never even see them. I see it. I see how long the girl who took my order spent trying to cover up her freckles with her makeup, so I told her how cute they were. I saw how tired the woman who gave me my change was so I told her how much her eyes sparkled in this light. I noticed how nervous that cute girl across the office was so I smiled at her. What was so wrong with that?
Why did ____ have to look so disgusted with me all the time? I was just having fun. Life is hard enough anyway. People want to laugh. People want to be told they look good. And so what if I get a date out of it or someone invites me home. We’re all adults and we’re allowed to have fun. No one needs to be that serious all the time. And God, she worships that maniac, doesn’t she?
She got so mad when I mentioned it though. I thought girls liked talking about their crushes, but... maybe ____ is more private than I thought. Maybe I took it too far. It’s just so infuriating how she talks about him. She’s just so wrapped up in praising god Kim Namjoon- she made it so obvious that she had a thing for that egomaniac. I thought she’d finally laugh with me or at the very least blush and elbow me in the ribs, but she looked….i don’t know. She looked hurt. I think I crossed a line I didn’t mean to.
God, it’s barely been a day and I’d wrecked the only good part of this job. I noticed her the second I walked into that office. She got to me in 2 seconds flat. That hair, those legs, the way that skirt hit her curves- it made want to wrap my hands around those hips and bend her right over that jerk’s desk. God. I was already gone the second I laid eyes in her...
But then when she looked at me and I saw her face….she was beautiful. She’s quick and clever and obviously good at what she does. Everyone here seems to get along with her. I like ____. Honestly, she seems pretty cool. She’s just stuck on that douchebag. But hey, some girls are are really into that whole power and authority kink. Who am I to judge?
I just didn’t think there’d be any harm being vocal about things since everyone seems to think I won’t last here very long anyway. Might as well shoot my shot while I can, right ?
I slid my hips down in my seat and raked my hands through my hair. This place would never be my first choice, but it didn’t seem that bad, I guess.
There were things I’d much rather be doing with my time, but I’d do it for my mom. Anything for her. My stupid uncle in her ear caused this whole mess. At the end of the day, all of this was his fault for meddling in my life anyway.
Chin propped in my hands, I looked out the hundredth set of floor to ceiling windows I’d seen today wondering how long I’d even have this view when movement in the corner of the room caught my eye. It was ____. I felt myself starting to smile just because she was here. Maybe we could get on the right foot now and she’d loosen up a li-wait. She looked like- like she’d been crying. The skin beneath her eyes was puffy, and the light she’d had around her earlier seemed.... dimmer. Her teeth were clenched, her chin set extra high as she walked my way, white knuckling the tablet in her hands. She looked pissed. But calmly so, which was honestly scarier.
Crap, I really stepped in it this time, didn’t I?
I quickly scrambled to stand up from the table, but she pulled out a chair instead and sat down beside me. Folding her fingers together on the tabletop, she cleared her throat and looked up at me, challenge and grit lacing her gaze.
“Have a seat please, Mr. Kim.”
For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to say, so I followed her instructions.
“I’m glad to see you retained enough information from our tour to have been able to find this place. That’s a good sign at least. If you already have the layout down, I’ll brief you on what a basic day here looks like. Tomorrow Namjoon will be returning from a charity gala in Miami. On a typical morning, he is to be greeted with his hot coffee of choice, typically an extra hot hazelnut latte with an extra shot of espresso. Not two shots. Not three. Just one. Trust me, he’ll know. He despises soy milk and has an almond allergy so no fancy milks unless you’d like to be wearing it as an accessory for the rest of your day. Now that is a normal day, however, when he returns from a red eye flight, he expects to be promptly greeted with the first step of the juice cleanse from the Buddha bliss juice bar down on 7th so he is not visibly puffy during any press work for the day….”
She rattled on like this in detail for the next 15 minutes and it finally started to sink in who the real power at house of RM was-_____. Sure Namjoon pulled the big levers, but she made sure he never fell apart and that seemed like a super power all by itself. She knew every like, dislike, allergy, pet schedule, dry cleaner, exercise schedule, person to kiss up to, person to avoid...And she knew every contingency to tweak things for so he didn’t go off the rails and downsize half a department for their assumed incompetency just because he was sleep deprived and jet lagged off a red eye after being dumped by his latest high profile fling.
Not gonna lie- it was extremely impressive. And kind of hot. I don’t know if I’d ever seen a girl that strategic and smart. She really knew what she was doing. How she managed to be three steps ahead of the world's youngest self made man was a fearsome thing to see. The way she analyzed all these situations made me wonder if she was analyzing me too, but I didn't think on that for too long. She didn’t romanticize him this time. I noticed that. Just laid out all the facts as they were and how to troubleshoot for all of them. It was like watching a master explain chess strategies, and I respected it.
But at the same time, it made me wonder. Just how much of a man-sized brat was Namjoon? it was kind of disgusting how much the man needed to be coddled honestly. How easily everyone accommodated his massive ego. It definitely didn’t help me hate him any less.
“So!” She resolved, tapping a stack of papers against the tabletop to level them out.
“I realize that was probably an onslaught, but you have to dive straight into the deep end to stay ahead here. Any questions?”
“Yeah, just one: what time do you get here every day?” I leaned forward on my elbows, searching her face. She seemed caught off guard by my question, quickly trying to rearrange her expression after feeling like she’d been in control for our entire conversation.
“Just before 7am. I try to beat Namjoon here so I can prepare things for the day. It doesn’t always work though. It’s almost like he sleeps here sometimes.”
“And what time do you go home?”
“On paper? 6pm. In reality? I’d say typically 10 on a good night. Somewhere between 11 and midnight on his particularly temperamental days.”
Holy crap. Was she serious? “Last question.”
“Okayyy…” she pulled back from the table, body language screaming discomfort about where I might be going.
“So, if you’re here- how many days a week?”
“Five.” She answered succinctly, tone clipped. “Unless we’re approaching a deadline for a project- then weekends become mandatory too.” Jesus.
“And any holidays?” I add. Her gentle face is steely and guarded. I wouldn’t trust me right now either, dollface.
“Of course not. But there often is more work to be done than that accommodates so I usually come in anyway.”
“Uh huh. Right. So! Let me get this straight- you know what? for your sake, let’s even round down some. Let’s say, you’re here six days a week, working anywhere from 11-15 hour days. At minimum, you’re working well over at least 15-20 hours of overtime PER week with no vacations— which is not only unethical, it’s illegal. All for the glorious empire of Kim Namjoon. So. Riddle me this-when do you ever get to live your own life?”
Silence.
She dipped and furrowed her eyebrows at me. I could see her lashes fluttering as she scrambled overtime to come up with a defensive answer for me. I settled back in my seat, arms draped behind my head, knowing in some weird way, that I had won.
“You’re beautiful. You’re young. This can’t possibly be the way you want to spend all your time. Tell me-When was the last time you slept in til the sun woke you up? The last time you had a Netflix marathon in a grubby old T-shirt with dorito stains on your fingers and a giant glass of wine? Or! even went out on actual date for that matter? Why are you here wasting your 20’s away in this place running Namjoons company for him and getting none of the credit?”
She gaped, beautiful mouth struggling open and shut like a fish freshly yanked out of the water. I couldn’t tell if she was furious with me or just lost. It didn’t look like she’d ever asked herself that before.
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do my job here. I’ll do what you ask. But do me a favor and think about that. It’d be such a shame to see so much beautiful potential go to waste.” I pushed off from the table to stand. I felt my chest swell- I had the upper hand again. “Now, I believe you mentioned something earlier about finding me a desk space upstairs. Shall we get started on that? I’ll need a pleasing environment if I’m expected to slug through all of Namjoon’s nonsense on a daily basis. The closer to you, the better.” I started to walk away, not waiting for her but knowing in my gut she’d follow. She wasn’t the only one allowed to have a mic drop moment.
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Part 4
Series masterlist
Thank you guys so much for reading til the end and visiting my little corner of the internet. I am SO excited about where this series is going. I started writing one of the last chapters first and have been going backwards to figure out what happened to get us there and- you guys- I can’t wait for you to see!! Should I try to come up with a regular upload schedule?? Let me know. ✨
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chinatea · 5 years
Text
Tattoo/Christian, Superhero AU.
The one where Tattoo is a Superhero and Christian is a reporter who always ends up being saved by him.
(Tat is your generic superman - super strength, super vision, super speed, all that jazz.)
(A fun fact - I actually started writing this as Tattoo/Baby G, but ended up writing Christian, behavior-wise, so I changed the pairing to Tat/Chris. Although there is still a few Baby G-ish traits to him I decided not to edit out, cuz it’s just more fun that way, isn’t it.)
It’s Friday night and Jimin could think of a million ways how to spend it in style.
Like, having a hot bath with candles and a glass of Bordeaux. Classic. One could never go wrong with classic on a Friday night. And that was his plan for the day. Hell, he’s been looking towards it all week, but the plan has changed and that’s why Jimin is not currently soaking in himalayan salts, but instead soaking his ass in some dank-ass basement, all tied and gagged up like someone’s messed up idea of a Christmas present.
(Sadly, that wouldn’t even be the first time - the criminals around here lack both brains and originality, like, big time.)
Times like these, Jimin truly hates this city. Times like these, he swears as soon as he’s outta here, he will pack his shit and catch the first bus out of this hellhole, because he’s had enough of this bullshit.
Why him? Just...why?
A rhetorical question, mind you. He bloody knows why.
It all started with Mr. Titanium Glutes, or Tattoo, who spawned out of nowhere one day, like most superheros do, in his spanking new spandex briefs and has been stealing the front pages across editorials all over city ever since.
Meanwhile, Jimin was just a modest reporter (with awesome hair and scintillating smile) who did his job. And sometimes that job had him doing some footwork, sending him places no-sane-person-would-ever, putting his life at risk and other occupational hazards.
Running away from enraged crime mobs was nothing new to him. Little did he know, however, how much of a pesky menace Tattoo would become once they get to know each other a little better. Despite all Jimin’s attempts to minimize their contact as much as possible.
There is only so much he could do, however. He’s not a miracle worker, after all. His job is dangerous and dangerous spells Tattoo in big sparkling letters. The man would just turn up, whenever a shitstorm rolled in, to save those in need with his superhuman strength.
And yes, Jimin might have been a hair away from the imminent death, but was he in need? Hell no.
He never asked to be saved. Never asked to be held like he was made of glass. And he definitely didn’t ask Tattoo to look at him like a lovesick fool. (Must be the hair, dammit.) Naturally, it was exactly the moment when a million of stringers around the area chose to snap their best winning shot of the day - and ever since that day Jimin has gotten unfortunate notoriety and a new nickname...
Lois Fucking Lane.
Inevitably siccing every single villain who has beef with Tattoo on Jimin’s ass. Which is, like, the entirety of the criminal underworld by now.
Gee, thanks.
“Stupid rope,” Jimin mutters under his breath, struggling to loosen the knot holding his wrists together just enough to hopefully slip a hand out and undo the binds.
Whomever kidnapped him was stupid enough to leave him and his tiny hands unsupervised and is so going to suffer for it, because Jimin also has a superpower - in times of need, his tiny hands have the capacity to become even tinier. He’s a badass like that, obviously.
A few little huffs and puffs later, Jimin lets out a happy little squeal, wiggling his hands free and tackling the foot binds next. Followed by a nasty gag that smells like something Jimin doesn’t want to linger on too much to avoid a lifelong trauma.
Although free and unbounded, it still leaves him locked up inside a dimly lit basement, containing nothing but a rusty tankard left forgotten on a shoddy wooden chair in the corner.
Jimin has a mind to kick it in frustration when he makes out faint footsteps approaching from behind the door. In panic, he grabs the chair, the rusty tankard flying off with much racket.
Jimin cringes, cussing out loud, as he hurries to take point next to the door, readying the chair above his head. If he is to die tonight, at least he’ll take one of those motherfuckers with him.
He holds his breath as seconds stretch into long moments of waiting. Then, the door knob turns and Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, smashing the chair down on whomever glides right in.
The man doesn’t even flinch as the chair disintegrates into dust upon contact, raising a cloud of fine specks to float in the air. Jimin stumbles back by the sheer force of the impact, air caught in his lungs. He wheezes loudly, struggling to catch his breath. He feels a hundred years old, for some reason, utterly tuckered out. Who knew that holding that chair for two seconds could be so damn exhausting.
“W-what the hell are you doing here?” he finally stutters out, shooting a glower at Tattoo who just stands there, arms crossed over his massive chest, thoroughly amused by Jimin’s fumbling around.
“Oh c’mon, toots, you just jumped me with a chair. I don’t exactly expect a written apology, but a kiss would be nice, don’t you think?” Tattoo intones as he flicks away a few splinters off his bicep. “Besides, one would think you’d get the memo by now. Your knight in shining spandex has arrived. Now gimme my kiss.”
“Shut up,” Jimin grouses. “Where are the scumbags who kidnapped me?”
“Probably running for their lives now,” Tattoo shrugs. “I’ll deal with them later, don’t worry.”
“If you can find them, that is,” Jimin scoffs.
“Oh I will,” Tattoo adds smugly. “Just like I always find you, toots.”
It occurs to Jimin then that Tattoo indeed is infallible when it comes to tracking him down just in time before the heat. If only he hadn’t been too preoccupied being exasperated with the man half the time, he would have questioned it much sooner.
“Super hearing,” Tattoo explains then, tapping next to his ear, looking like he’s about to burst from smugness. “I always listen in if my toots is in trouble.”
“First, I’m not yours, second, excuse me??” Jimin seethes. “You can’t do that. This is violation of my privacy. I know my rights, dumbass.”
The look Tattoo gives him is far from remorseful. His unapologetic grin shines like a beacon of self-righteousness.
“Then go ahead and sue me, toots. I’d rather have you mad at me than hurt,” Tattoo says before adding in a voice that belongs in a bedroom with moody lighting. “Besides, I usually tune out for a while then you...ah, you know. Even if those are the prettiest little sounds I’ve ever heard anyone make with their mouth.”
Heat creeps onto Jimin’s cheeks as he gawks at Tattoo, feeling disarmed and stripped naked, metaphorically, of course.
“You didn’t...” he whispers.
Tattoo’s big stupid grin tells otherwise.
What a fucking sleazy bastard.
Mind gone black, Jimin turns on his heels and wobbles out of the creaky door and up the steep staircase, so steep in fact, he has to almost crawl up the steps, hating himself for choosing skintight jeans to wear today. As much as he loves how they hug his thighs, he hates the very idea of treating that douchebag to the dreamy panorama of his ass. He doesn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know that Tattoo is watching him go like a creep.
Because Tattoo is a creep, regardless of how many grannies he saves per day. And Jimin just happened to catch his fancy. Oh woe is him.
He pushes the heavy door and finds himself in a quiet back alley, heaps of trash bags and not a soul in the vicinity.
“Eh, toots?” Tattoo calls after him, hot on his heels, as always.
“I’m not talking to you. Ever.”
“Sure, but I think you’d still like to know that there is a huge damp spot on your ass that looks like you peed yourself, just saying,” Tattoo supplies helpfully. “Did you really pee yourself?”
Tattoo looks genuinely concerned for him while Jimin cranks his neck this way and that to access the damage done. His ass does feel wet to the touch.
“You know it’s okay if you did,” Tattoo continues, nodding to himself. “I won’t judge. We’ve all been there. Well, not me, obviously, but I still find you hot, don’t worry about th-”
“Jesus fuck, will you shut up?” Jimin barks at him. “I didn’t pee myself, you asshole. I sat in a fucking puddle for an hour, okay? And it’s all your damn fault.”
“I know.”
Tattoo sounds somber, for a change, all usual mirth gone, which makes Jimin eye him suspiciously. Did the bastard suddenly grow a conscience?
Then, Tattoo holds his hands out, squeezing the fingers in a grabbing motion, shamelessly lewd.
“Hop on,” he pipes, eyebrows wiggling. “C’mon, toots, you know the drill.”
(Or maybe not.)
A million curses later, Jimin finds himself successfully loaded into Tattoo’s arms. What choice does he have? Brave the streets with damp asscheeks? Hell no.
Arms wrapped around the bastard’s neck, Jimin tries to think happy thoughts - like choking Tattoo to death with his tiny hands which gradually translates into choking Tattoo with his thighs which ends up with Jimin power-riding Tattoo’s face, choking him with his ass.
His thoughts are weird, so what.
He just hopes that Tattoo doesn’t have a telepathic ability or anything of that sort, because…
(He’s totally fucked, isn’t he?)
Only the bastard doesn’t take him home as Jimin belatedly discovers. While in the air, Jimin keeps his eyes squeezed tight because Jimin and heights don’t mix well, so when he opens them, deeming it safe, what welcomes him is not his balcony with petunias from his mum.
“What in the frack is this?” he says, wobbly on his feet, soaking in the sight of a lonely tent on the roof of some apartment building. The inside of the tent, decorated with fairy lights, are layered cozily with blankets and throw pillows. Jimin spies a food basket and a bottle of wine, which leaves little room for misunderstanding - he knows what in the frack this is.
A romantic roof picnic set for two.
He faces Tattoo then, hands akimbo, and taps his foot impatiently, waiting for explanations.
“Well,” Tattoo starts. “I hope you like chicken, toots. It’s organic, I promise.”
“Did I ask you to do this for me?” Jimin asks, unamused.
“No, you didn’t,” Tattoo replies, looking too somber for comfort for the second time this night. His chest sinks with a sigh as he rubs the back of his neck, a touch sheepish. “Listen, I wanted to apologize. Better late than never, right? I’m sorry for making you a target even if it was not my intention, I just...I’ll be back in a second.”
Jimin has barely any time to blink as Tattoo flashes in and out of his sight, only this time, the spandex suit is gone and, in a way, Tattoo is gone, too. What Jimin sees in front of him is a guy in a hoodie, sweats and a pair of round glasses. What the..?
“My name is Jungkook,” the guy says. “Apart from doing, you know, superhero stuff, I’m an average student who majors in culinary arts with a minor in photography. I love video games and working out even though I break pretty much every gear I touch, so I don’t. I have a doting mum and a little brother. They’re normal, by the way, in case you wanted to know. I don’t know why I’m the way I am. My favorite color is yellow and hey, I’m single.” 
The guy, Jungkook, wraps his speech up with a stupid wink and even a stupider grin and the only reason why Jimin doesn’t shove him off the roof is because of the major cognitive dissonance he’s experiencing right now.
So he lets it slide, just this once.
“You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” he says, quiet, hugging himself from the chill of the night. “Why would you expose yourself like that. That’s stupid.”
“Because I think it’s only fair after all I’ve put you through, besides I know that you won’t tell anybody,” Jungkook smiles cheekily. “And I don’t know how about you, but I’m starving, all this superpower can’t sustain itself on air, you know.”
Jimin stares at him as he shakes his head to himself.
“Fine, but only because I’m hungry too, okay? Don’t get any ideas now, brat. This is not a date!”
“Sure, toots. Here, I’ve brought some spare sweats for you.”
“The fuck I’m gonna do with them? Wear them as a dress?” Jimin gripes as he grabs the sweatpants offered, five times his size from the looks of it.
He quickly strips out of his skinnies and tugs those parachutes on as Jungkook crouches over the basket, unloading its contents. Jimin’s stomach grumbles at the mouth-watering smell of food and he mentally wills it to shut the fuck up - he’s been through a lot today and doesn’t need Jungkook being even more smug than he already is.
A total husband material he may be, but Jimin won’t give in.
Not on their first date, anyhow.
“Scooch, or something,” he gripes, settling down next to Jungkook who only scooches closer, unapologetic, and even if Jimin scrunches up his nose at that he doesn’t complain or move away - it’s warmer that way, okay?
(Yep, totally fucked, he is.)
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