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bluesidez · 2 months

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OKAY I HAD TO HIT YOU W THIS BC I NEED THIS TO COME TRUE 🗣🗣‼️‼️

AcademicRival!Miguel x AcademicRival!reader

where they will do quite literally ANYTHING (legally) POSSIBLE to one up each other.

whether their petty rivalry began in high school or first year of uni/college, IDC- but they absolutely despise each other.

and!!! at some point down the track, they forgot why they were beefing in the first place, only for it to start stemming from a place of 'jealousy' (yk how sometimes jealousy is actually feelings of romantic interest in disguise,, yeah, that) and it gets to the point where they are quite literally making it all their friends' problem bc of it.

like i can imagine reader drinking something that Miguel sees and Miguel going 'i need to have this all the time and sell it out so reader can never have any' and Peter is like '???', or reader finding out Miguel got a certain mark and goes 'nobody speak to me for a month i have to understand everything about quantum physics before that smug asshole opens his mouth' and Jess is like '??? just kiss, fym??'

and then they finally have a moment where they have no choice but to rely on each other- whether Miguel's car breaks down on the side of the road reader happens to drive by and she takes him to his, or if reader desperately needs help in a situation and immediately calls him bc she knows he'll pick up bc she needs scary dog privileges and thats HIM so then they end up having a moment of reflection together with either super fluffy smut or absolute debauchery and fluffy aftercare i totally dont mind either way.

IDK do you know what i mean??? 🫣🫢🤭

anyway LY BLUE-BLUE, thank yew for letting me ramble on 🤍🩵

Are you asking me to write this? 🧐 (I shall add it to the pending ideas list just for you 🐰🩵)

I wrote that as a reply as soon as you sent it, but now I have more ideas that I wanna yap about to go along with this.

SO!! You already have a rivals, enemies to lovers trope going on. What better way to make it even more fun than to add the stoic x chatty dynamic???

Like I’m imagining the reader and Miguel first meeting in middle or high school. He’s a transfer student that’s immediately making the top grades and people are like where tf did he come from?? Reader doesn’t really think anything of it, she just carries on with her school life, chatting away (and getting in on the gossip about Miguel).

It’s not until he ends up in the same class with reader one semester (probably in high school) that reader is finally able to be in close contact with him. He’s so quiet and a little boring, but there’s always random girls coming in and out of the classroom to attempt to chat to him.

They’re always bringing snacks or sweets for him. He always turns them down with a “No thank you. I don’t like chocolate.” type of response. (What he thinks to be polite and cordial)

The guys in the class think he’s a huge jerk. The girls in the class still fond over him. You think he’s an oddball, a weirdo. But you really have no solid information to justify it.

It’s not until one day that the teacher asks this obscure question that he pisses you off. (I havent thought of a weird question yet tho). Everyone else has given crude or stupid answers, riling each other up and joking. You raise your head to give the most out-of-the-box, yet plausible answer that leaves the teacher impressed and the class laughing in shock. Miguel scoffs and debunks it so fast, that you start to feel like one of his rejected groupies. If you thought the laughter for your answer was loud, the laughter for his sounds like the crowd in a football stadium.

You’re embarrassed but you don’t really show it. You just brush it off and joke with everyone else like usual.

Then, one of the class’s first huge tests come. You’re gunning for the number 1 spot although you figure it won’t be too hard with half of the room being class clowns and the other half not giving af. You read over the material once and already have a good grasp on it, so you joke around with everyone else. There’s rap battles and TT routines. You guys even manage to get the teacher in on some of them. From the front of the room, you can see Miguel glancing back at you with such a sour look on his face. Wtf was his deal??

Test day finally comes. You’re the first to turn yours in with a smug smile on your face. You even take a nap until the next bell.

You’re on cloud nine for about a good week. Although, every time you open your mouth in class, Miguel looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Then, the time came for the teacher to hand out the papers. He was pretty theatrical and loved to announce who got the highest score.

You were gearing up for him to say your name. And you don’t know of you’re crazy, but you’re certain your mom didn’t put “Miguel O’Hara” on your school registration form.

You frown as you come back to reality, watching as teacher handed him is paper. From your seat, you can see the bright red 100 in the corner, a smiley face to adorn it.

Then the teacher hands you your paper. A 99.5. Just 0.5 points from a perfect score. And what you got points taken off for is something so ridiculous that you could scream.

You can see him in your peripheral as you chat with the other students about the answers. Just as you discuss your silly mistake you take a small look at him. He has a faint smirk on his face, as if to laugh at your downfall.

From then on, you decide that it’s a war.

[and obviously, the story would travel with them as they grow. Once they’re adults, I can imagine Miguel to still be this same stoic, yet more approachable person who has had a ROSTER of hookups and a reader who’s still so flirty and chatty, yet can’t find a good partner to save their life. The dynamic of him knowing exactly how to make reader feel good verses reader being overwhelmed for once would be sooooo good]

What do you think Lexie-bun?? 🥸

#lab testing 🔬#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader

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trensu · 4 months

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So this was originally a little ficlet i added to @gyroshrike's EXCELLENT angel dust fanart. You should check it out IMMEDIATELY. Anyway, I ended up writing it out into a proper fic so I could post it to ao3 here. and i thought i might as well make it its own tumblr post as well since the fic is done already. Enjoy!

“What do you mean no?” Cherri asks, annoyed. “This is the fifth fucking outfit you’ve shot down.”

Angel doesn’t know why he thought Cherri would be helpful on this shopping trip. He forgot that Cherri’s idea of fashion involves singed tops and torn up bottoms. He snatches the clothes from Cherri’s hands and throws them back on the rack.

“Ya keep pickin’ slutty clothes!” Angel replies, also annoyed.

“That’s because you are a slut, bitch.”

Angel gives her a two fingered salute because he’s fucking cultured. Cherri cackles and flips him off in return. Angel marches to the other end of the store to the rack full of boring colors like navy, gray, and black. They don’t go with his coloring at all. It’s the only rack left he hasn’t looked through in the entire store, though. Cherri follows behind him, purposely shoving racks and mannequins to make a mess as they go.

“Well, I ain’t tryin’ ta look slutty this time,” Angel says as he aggressively inspects the rack of clothing.

“Good luck getting that cat in bed after your date,” Cherri snorts.

“It’s a first date! Husk ain’t like that,” Angel says, feeling a bit offended on Husk’s behalf. “He’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah, the drunk arsehole is a total gentleman,” Cherri rolls her eye.

“He is about this kinda thing. He’s a classy guy, okay? So I’m givin’ classy a try,” Angel insists. He reaches the end of the rack with nothing to show for it. He growls. “Fuck this place, it ain’t got shit. Let’s go.”

“Fuck yes! About fucking time,” Cherri cheers.

After blowing off steam with Cherri, Angel sneaks back into the hotel. Not that he’d done anything wrong; he just doesn’t want to bump into Husker at the bar after the spectacular failure of a shopping trip. He’s stressed because he was running out of time to get an outfit together. He knows he gets catty under pressure. (Ha. Catty.) He doesn’t want to risk getting catty with Husker.

Once inside, Angel wanders the upper levels for a bit until he is absolutely sure that Charlie was nowhere around. He knows Charlie would be overjoyed to help but she's about as subtle as machine gunfire when she's happy. Angel wants his future upscale look to be a surprise for Husk.

Since Charlie can’t be considered, Angel is left with one last option. With extreme reluctance, he makes his way to Charlie’s room. He makes sure not to show anything but confidence and charm when he knocks on the door.

Vaggie opens it with a scowl.

“Angel. What do you want?” Vaggie asks in that flat yet annoyed tone she was so good at doing.

“Heyyy, Vaggie. Ya know that redemption thing Charlie always yaps about?” Angel starts. Vaggie’s scowl deepens, so Angel continues before she could say anything. “I was thinkin’ I should change up my look, so I ain’t so sexy and tempting. Looking like a prude is a virtue, ain’t it? You’re the biggest prude I know! Wanna help a fella out? For redemption and sh–uh, stuff?”

Angel bats his eyes at Vaggie, channeling his ‘I’m a sweet, naive virgin, please take advantage of me’ character. It’s a very popular character in his line of work. He is much better at that than at looking innocent but he figures it’s basically the same thing. Vaggie glares at him. Okay, slight miscalculation on Angel’s part, then.

“No,” she says, and tries to close the door. Angel catches it with two hands before it shuts completely.

“Wait!”

“I’m not helping you with whatever porno you’re doing,” Vaggie says.

“It ain’t for porn!” Angel says. He’s not exactly insulted that Vaggie assumed it was a porn thing, but he’s not not insulted either. He’s got a life outside of porn, sometimes!

Vaggie stares at him. It’s an expectant stare. It’s a stare that clearly says Angel has to give her a reason to not harpoon him with that spear she carries everywhere. (It’s also super judgemental but that doesn’t offend Angel since Vaggie looks at everyone except Charlie judgmentally).

A small jolt of embarrassment hits him. He wishes it was a porn thing now.

He doesn’t want to say it out loud, this tiny frail chance Husk gave him by asking him out. If he says it out loud, Vaggie will scoff. She’d roll her eyes and ask him why he’s even bothering to try. Does he really think anyone would seriously want to date a cokehead pornstar? This is a pipe dream and Husker will get fed up with him so fast.

(Vaggie wouldn’t say any of that, a part of Angel knows. Those were Valentino’s words, but he’s so sure that Vaggie must have thought it at least once. Everybody must think that about him at least once).

The longer he stays quiet the more Vaggie’s glare softens until she starts to look genuinely concerned. And, fuck, Angel can’t have that. He’d die (again) if Vaggie felt sorry enough to be nice to him. He pastes on his smile and keeps his tone girlfriend-ly.

“I got a hot date, Vaggie, that’s all,” Angel says. “Wanna try somethin’ a little different for it.”

Vaggie is not convinced by his nonchalance which makes Angel wonder if he’s losing his touch. His acting skills are second to none! She should be eating out of the palm of his hand with this performance! Instead, she marches out of the room and waves him along.

“Follow me,” Vaggie says in her drill sergeant voice that makes everyone who hears it straighten their spine and find themselves already halfway to a salute.

Angel learns that Vaggie approaches clothes shopping with the same tactical focus and determination she approaches any mission, which is weird but whatever. She stealthily leads him to the nicer side of town into a more upscale shop than Angel is used to. She marches through the shop without bothering to ask Angel for his input on anything. Still she manages to pick out a few outfits that went well with his coloring and in his size. Angel has never appreciated her observational skills more.

“Try these on and show me,” she demands, piling her pickings into both sets of Angel’s arms and shoving him into a dressing room.

Angel complies without protest. He sashays out of the dressing room like a supermodel four times before Vaggie nods in satisfaction on the last option. She actually smiles at him.

“This one. You’ll impress your date with this one,” Vaggie says without a hint of irony.

Angel smiles back and thanks her enthusiastically. He ignores how he hadn’t recognized himself in the mirror in any of the outfits. He ignores how uncomfortable the clothes feel on his body. The clothes are classy, just like Husker prefers. That’s what matters.

–

When Husker shows up at his door for their date, he does a double take.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Husk asks, confused.

Angel starts to lean flirtatiously into his space, a salacious come on right on the tip of his tongue. He catches himself halfway and quickly straightens himself with an awkward laugh.

“Just somethin’ I found in the back of the closet,” he lies through his teeth.

He’d devoted time to doing his makeup just right and making sure the clothes were crisp and clean. He still feels uncomfortable in them but all things considered, Angel thinks the final product came out pretty good. The way Husker looks at him now makes him wonder if he overestimated his looks for once.

Husk’s eyes narrow as he studies Angel. His gaze trails Angel top to bottom. It doesn’t feel very sexy but Angel supposes the point is to not look like a whore so this means he succeeded, right?

“Sure,” Husk says, notes of confusion still in his tone. “You ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course!” Angel stutters like a moron.

“Alright,” Husker says after a beat.

Husk gives Angel another suspicious look, shoulders tense and wings pulled close. Something shifts in his expression that Angel can’t read. He’s afraid it might be disappointment. Husker shakes out his wings and offers Angel his arm, which Angel accepts with relief.

“So, where ya takin’ me, Huskie?”

Husker tells him about a little place with good food, better drinks, and a live jazz band. As they walk out of the hotel, Angel almost cozies up against Husk, so tempted to rub his cheek against Husker’s furry ear. He catches himself again and over-corrects by pulling away from Husk until their linked arms are the only point of contact. Husk stumbles a bit with the weight shift. He shoots him another indecipherable look. Husker opens his mouth to say something but appears to change his mind and snaps it shut.

That’s okay, though, right? Husker wasn’t much of a talker anyway! Angel fills the silence between them with nervous babble. Angel is normally very good at conversation but tonight he keeps having to stop and restart mid-sentence when his stories get crass. Being crass is not good first date behavior. Husker grunts every now and then but it’s clear he’s only listening with half an ear. It doesn’t help Angel’s nerves at all.

The date goes downhill from there.

Husker finds them a booth when they arrive at their destination and helps Angel order their food and drinks. He points out several he thinks Angel will like.

Usually, he and Husker can pound back alcohol like nobody’s business. They sometimes make a game of it and those nights are some of the best Angel has because he gets to see Husker soften and relax in his company. However, Angel is an affectionate drunk and Husk has had to nudge Angel away more than once those nights. Husker is always sweet about it now, with gentle hands and amusement in his eyes. Husker always helps him back to his room afterwards like a perfect gentlemanly escort. Despite that, Angel can’t help feeling a bit stung at the rejection each time.

Tonight, he only orders one drink. He knows he can’t be getting too handsy with Husk on their date. He’s sure it would annoy him. He doesn’t want Husker to regret asking him out. With his focus strictly on keeping up his good behavior and watching his alcohol intake, Angel barely touches the food Husker recommended to him.

Husker keeps shooting him these looks that make Angel anxious. With each glance, Husker slinks deeper into his taciturn demeanor. Of course, Angel overcompensates with his babbling. At one point, Husk has to shush him during the jazz show. Angel clacks his jaws shut in shame, because he knows how much Husker likes jazz and here he is ruining the experience for him. At least Husk is nice enough to hold Angel’s hands throughout the rest of the show, though he probably only does it to keep Angel from fidgeting too much.

When they leave the joint, Husker doesn’t offer his arm again. He doesn’t even walk very close to him. Angel's stomach churns so much, he’s afraid if he opens his mouth to speak, he’ll puke the two bites of food he ate earlier.

They’re halfway back to the hotel when Husk clears his throat. His hands are in his pockets as he trudges on, keeping his eyes on the crumbling sidewalk.

“You didn’t have to say yes,” Husk says, not even glancing at Angel or faltering in his steps as he speaks. Angel, on the other hand, halts in confusion.

“What?” Angel asks, not sure what Husker was talking about but the tone of voice made his stomach drop. Husk sighs, stopping in his tracks to finally look up at Angel. His face was closed off in his standard apathetic frown.

“When I asked you out,” Husker says, his tone going to his usual bored gruffness. He hasn’t used that tone towards Angel in a long time. Hints of panic start crawling up Angel’s veins. “You didn’t have to say yes.”

“What?” Angel asks again like a fucking idiot. He hopes he doesn’t sound as shaky and pathetic as he feels.

Husker’s voice goes flatter though his tail has started to twitch uneasily.

“You should’ve said no if you didn’t want to…be with me. We woulda been fine.”

“Huskie–”

And at last some of that soft, hidden sincerity crept back into Husker’s voice. Only a little bit, but it’s there.

“I’d still be your friend, Legs,” Husker says, gazing into Angel’s eyes and sounding painfully honest. “I wouldn’t abandon you over that.”

“No! I-I–”

Husker looks away with a bitter grin. Angel’s heart cracked at the sight.

“I’d need a day or two to lick my wounds, but I knew it was a long shot anyway. I woulda come back,” Husker shrugs when he finishes going for nonchalance, but his wings are once again curled protective and close, making his usual slouch look less like carelessness and more like defeat. Husker doesn’t wait for Angel’s response, instead choosing to continue walking back to the hotel.

Angel stands in place, floored by how badly he fucked up. He notices his breathing becoming erratic. He does his best to do the calming breathing thing Charlie taught them all. It works well enough to get him running to Husker again though Angel still feels unsteady and insecure. Most of him is screaming to fucking book it in the other direction because fuck, fuck, Angel hates feelings. But Husker also hates feelings and he basically threw up his guts at Angel despite it. The least Angel can do is return the gesture, right? He owes Husker that much.

“Husker, wait!” he shouts.

Husker’s posture becomes more guarded but he doesn’t acknowledge Angel’s call. Angel catches up quickly (Husk can’t go too far too fast with those short legs, Angel thinks, helplessly fond despite the anxiety). Dodging around Husker’s wings that quiver with tension, Angel grabs the crook of his arm to bring him to a stop and place himself in Husk’s way. He lets go quickly at Husk’s glare but somehow manages to stand his ground.

“I did want! Husk, I wanted ta say yes, I wanted ta go on this date so much,” Angel says desperately, feeling a telltale burning around his eyes and hating himself for it.

The tension in Husker’s body breaks free as his patience caves to his temper. His wings flare open and his tail whips side to side aggressively.

“Then why are you acting so fucking fake? With the clothes and you treating me like I got the fucking plague! I thought we were done with that bullshit,” Husker snaps furiously.

“Cuz I wanted ta…I wanted ta be good for ya, Husk,” Angel chokes out, shoulders slumped in defeat. “You like classy. I wanted ta be a good, classy sorta guy for ya. I-I fucked up. I always fuck this shit up. I don’t mean ta do it.”

Angel stares at the poor excuse of a sidewalk they’re on, blinking back tears. Husker doesn’t say anything for a long time. Angel nearly loses his nerve and turns tail when Husker speaks again.

“You fucking dumbass,” Husk says.

His voice is deep and warm and fond, the way it is on their drinking nights together. Angel’s head snaps to Husk at his words. That cocky little smirk– the one Angel first saw after Husk had pulled him out of his self-destructive spiral at the club and realized that if he wasn't careful he'd lose his heart to the guy–has replaced the angry slant of Husk’s mouth.

“Hey!” Angel protests with a cautious smile. Husk rolls his eyes.

“Don’t expect compliments if you’re gonna act stupid,” Husk says and offers his arm to Angel. “You’re already classy enough for me, Legs.”

Angel takes his arm and looks down at him slyly.

“But not good, huh?” Angel tries to tease but Husker doesn’t take it.

Instead, Husk looks at him intensely and says firmly, “If this redemption shit the princess keeps talking about ain’t total bullshit, you’d be the one to make it.”

“Oh,” Angel says, stunned, then adds to cover how hard it made his heart beat, “Husker, ya big ol’ flirt. I betcha say that ta all the pretty boys.”

“Fuck you,” Husk grins at him. Angel bats his eyes and lets his voice go all breathy.

“Oh, yes! Please, daddy,” Angel simpers. He adds a loud moan for good measure. Husker throws his head back with a rough, loud laugh. Angel knows immediately he wants to hear it again forever.

By the time Husk drops Angel off at the door of his room, the pair of them have relaxed significantly. Angel opens the door slightly to peek in on Fat Nuggets. After he makes sure his Nugs is sleeping soundly, Angel catches Husk’s sleeve before he could make a sneaky escape.

“Hey, Husk, can we get a do-over? A new first date? I want ta do it right next time.” Angel asks shyly. The corner of Husk’s mouth quirks up, making his golden eyes crinkle in a way that makes Angel’s heart melt.

“Depends,” Husker says with that charming smirk. “You gonna wear that stupid outfit next time?”

“Oh baby,” Angel says, plastering himself against the door frame in one of his sexiest poses. “I’m gonna wear my sluttiest dress for my handsome kitty. Everyone’s gonna wish they were you when they see us togetha.”

Husk snorts.

“When you put it like that…”

“You can put it wherever ya want, daddy,” Angel flirts. He’s only half-joking but he keeps his hands to himself to keep things light. Husker rolls his eyes in good humor.

“A do-over sounds good.”

Angel drops the pose instantly, beaming at Husk.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Angel’s heart flutters at the small smile that accompanies Husk’s assurance.

“Next week?”

Husker nods in agreement.

“Great!” Angel said, probably a little too enthusiastically.

Before Angel canlose his nerve, he dips down and presses a light, meek kiss on Husker’s cheek. When he pulls back, Husker’s eyes are as wide as saucers and his wings have puffed up in a way Angel hadn’t seen before. If Angel didn’t know any better, he’d say Husker was downright flustered. And oh god, Angel wanted to make him blush all over. Husker would be so cute in bed.

“G‘night, Huskie!” Angel says quickly and slams the door closed behind him.

After nearly tearing himself out of the uncomfortable clothes, Angel crawls into bed wearing only his boxer briefs. Next time, he thinks to himself in joy and disbelief. I get a next time.

He knows it will be perfect because next time he’ll be himself. Angel. Because that’s all Husker wanted. Just Angel.

He curls up around Fat Nuggets and allows himself one quiet, happy squeal.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #husker #trensu tells stories #this is my first hazbin fic tbh #i gotta go finish my steddie fanfics before i write anymore for hazbin #though let me tell you #i have plenty of Ideas for huskerdust fics

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borderlinereminders · 2 years

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hey i could use some advice if its okay (also sorry if this is vaguely venty i am, very upset right now) i'm having a hard time regulating my emotions regarding my friend of 5 years, she's a good friend and we've been through a lot of ups and downs but nothing that we couldnt eventually figure out a way through lately. like the past year or so i've felt like i mean nothing to her and like i'm just a second option to pass the time. it first became a problem when her boyfriend who was abusive and her got into an argument over me (he thought me playing minecraft with her was abusive /srs) and she literally tried breaking off 5 years of friendship, not cause he asked but to appease him just in case it'd make him happy. obviously it didnt end up working but it hurt and it still really does hurt after that, while with her bf she started fawning over a girl and thats all she'd talk to me about sometimes, every day its either the girl or her bf. either its venting or gushing either way day in day out i was there to listen and it felt like i just straight up didnt matter anymore cause it was always about them and how she desperately wanted to be talking to them as if i wasnt even there or something then finally she broke up w her bf, and i thought woo no more of that but she immedietely got with another guy who even says he doesnt wanna date her, only wants to use her body and rarely if ever texts her back, yet recently she threw $50 just to try and get him to reply all the while constantly yapping at me how much she'd rather talk to him. every few months its someone new and i become obsolete, she'd rather talk to them and cancels plans just to talk to them instead of me. i've started trying harder in our friendship, always letting her vent always accepting hang out invites always replying to texts always encouraging her interests. outright buying her things to try and help fill the void she might be trying to fill. but nothing works she's always more excited for someone else. not that i have to be a priority of course i understand that but it feels like i've never been a priority, i'm not even 2nd or 3rd place and i feel awful and it hurts. plus another thing she never listens to me despite saying that i do seem to know whats best, i try to be there for her and give her advice when she asks then she turns around and takes what she admits is worse advice from one of the other people she fawns over just because she likes them better. i don't think i matter anymore (or ever did) and i don't know how to regulate or deal with that, i don't wanna accidently lash out at her but i don't know how to get past this. i've been ignoring her more frequently (i know its not good but i cant bring myself to text her i know i'll scream if i do) and she doesnt even really initate conversation, if she does its about one of the people as usual. which just makes it hurt more and make me wanna scream and lash out even more. i'm probably overreacting so if you have any advice i'd really appreciate it, thank you for your time

Hi anon,

I'm sure my advice isn't what you want to hear, but my advice is that she is not a friend for you and you should end the friendship. Of course, you can always try communicating to her and seeing if she changes her behaviour, but I also worry that she'll tell you what you want to hear and continue this anyways. It's not to say maybe she genuinely is open to changing, but it sounds like she isn't in a place to be a good friend to you.

You deserve to have a friend who treats you the way you deserve to be treated. Being ready to dismiss you like she has isn't a sign of a good friend. It also sounds like she takes you for granted.

You matter and you deserve friends who value you. You are not overreacting at all.

(Also, while it's reality that we tend to "prefer talking to someone" over someone else at times, or stuff like that, that isn't okay to say to you. )

You say she is a "good friend" and maybe she is in some ways. But from this ask, it feels to me that she isn't in a place herself where she is capable of giving you the friendship you deserve. It sounds like she has a lot of personal work and healing to do. When I say my advice is to "end the friendship" it doesn't mean it has to be permanent. But you deserve to be treated better, and if you aren't in a place to "end" it, you can definitely take a break from it.

If you aren't in a place to do that, then please start thinking about your boundaries and putting up boundaries with her. You deserve to be treated better.

Disclaimer: Please know that my advice comes from a place of what I would personally do. I am not a professional by any means, and cannot possible understand the nuance of the situation. You know this person better and your relationship much better than I could ever gauge from an ask. Please always be aware of patterns of behaviour, especially after healthy communication, because you deserve to be treated well. If a relationship/friendship isn’t for you, it’s entirely valid to end it even if it’s just a matter of being incompatible.

#april answers #ask a borderline #tw abuse

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addison-dykegomery · 3 days

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greys anon back again👋uni was kicking my ass but the semesters over and im caught up now! didn’t really care for the finale/season but i loved reading ur thoughts! im also giving the show an out this season because ik the strike messed things up but how uneven things were made me long for the end tbh😭 bc if this is the writers running on empty it’s kinda embarrassing and cliche and they need to get all the OGs back for s22, give everyone closure and wrap it up on a high note. i need greys to end with dignity lmfao like that’s the bestie

& so is bailey, who was the best part of this episode (saw ur tots about her and simone and although i don’t go there—they had cute tender moments but i rly wanted simone and maggie to smooch last season & im loyal plus ive always been partial to bailey & callie lezzing out together) and amazing in the end. the fact that they’re did all that for lucas tho, laughable—simone needs 2 let that mf go already my god! ik she won’t but im choosing 2 believe they’ll free her next season bc im over it. she’s better than this) as is the fact that lucas is staying and yasuda is leaving. just nasty and cruel and lesbophobic to me specifically. hers and jules’ almost kiss moment was so intimate and convincing i almost looked up fanfic of them but i don’t think there would be any at least not yet. greys non canon lesbian ships are so under-appreciated tbh 1/3 (this is so long sry in advance!)

hey greys anon bestie <3 finally replying to you!! (same here, this one comp sci class i'm taking is like. consuming my life. but in a good way)

aww thank you ^^

girl, i've thought about this SO MUCH like from a writing/showrunning standpoint I have literally no idea how the show could end. imo it has to be some kind of a full circle moment with meredith and ellis and carousels and alzheimers, and probably derek and just as many OGs as they can get to come back. kind of like what they tried to do in season 17, only way less shit. but they would need dempsey&co back for that not to mention ellen (which btw i do not get like is she back or is she not back? wasn't she supposed to leave? like wasn't everyone freaking out that meredith was leaving? So much ado about nothing smh) so i kinda doubt that will happen

it would also be a slay if the last scene of the show is zola visiting meredith in the nursing home (a parallel to meredith and ellis) and meredith has alzheimers but there are photos of derek, lexie, cristina etc beside her bed and zola is telling her how her surgical internship is going and meredith is like "i think i used to be a surgeon once" and zola is like "yes, mom, you were" SDFGHJ or however it went in s1. but ik everyone and their mom has this as their theory for the ending so i doubt it will happen also.

AND something that would be a huge wig in orbit moment is if they already filmed the ending back in 2004 and it's meredith waking up after her one-night-stand with derek in the pilot and it's like woa.. it was just a dream.. and then derek is like hey i'm derek and meredith is like cool can we skip to the part where your wife struts in bc i wanna marry her. which might happen tbh ! we will see 😌

anyway NO I DO NOT WANT IT TO END SOON i need it to get me thru my bachelors at LEAST (which is gonna be a long time bc i'm not the brightest candle on the cake 🤠)

anyway.

Simone and maggie is also intelligent 🙌

omg yes literally after i posted my finale yappings i was like oh shit wait yasuda is leaving 😭 why would they do this to us. i don't super care about them but i like them better than helmika just bec i don't get what helm was trying to do at all, it was funny when she was all about having a crush on meredith (like, same) but she can emigrate to paris with levi now that's ok

i fully block out the fact that simone/lucas is a thing (their scenes are usually my tea breaks tbh) like i feel like my brain isn't entirely processing that info even tho i know it is technically true. i mean simone is a full on dyke in my mind because you expect me not to project onto her? with THOSE mommy issues? when she had that scene with addison in the nicu... i was like 🤔🏳️‍🌈❓ ok now kiss

#also i love reading your asks it's okay!!#asks #anon bestie

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing v.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 435

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a glimpse into the past

“Yes. I’ve literally just stepped foot into my apartment.” Jungkook huffs with his phone between his ears and his shoulders as he attempts to multitask, hands moving a box of the dining table.

But Jimin is persistent and he’s yapping his ear off, something about dropping by in a few but Jungkook is barely paying attention, not when the existential crisis of no longer being a high school student that could hide under an institution with a false sense of security. College was different. He was on his own, even with the presence of his friends; and Jungkook was both terrified and excited.

He’d always dream of the start of his college life. Jungkook was a bit of a dreamer, and he aimed to live out the best life possible; all while trying to juggle his academics and do some extracurriculars on the side. When he told Taehyung about his ambitions, his friend just blinked and him and offered a snort; with an almost taunting pat on his shoulder.

You’ll see.

Jungkook didn’t know what he meant then, and he can only wait to find out.

“Do you need help moving in? Tae and I just finished a lecture and we’ve got the rest of the day off.” Jimin asks over the phone, and while Jungkook wants to start off his journey being independent; there were boxes of his belongings that looked way too unappealing to deal with alone.

“You’d to that?” Jungkook sighs, eyebrows furrowing when he searches for the box that goes into his bedroom.

“Come on, Kook.” Jimin whines, “You think your own hyungs won’t help you out?” His jibe is lighthearted, which only makes Jungkook roll his eyes at his friends' words.

“I know.” Jungkook affirms, “Just college life, you know? Thought you’d be busy having your third existential crisis of the week to help out.”

Jimin snorts over the line, “Try this day, kid.”

Jungkook chuckles, and mumbles something under his breath before puffing; grabbing his phone with his hand as he thinks of a question he’s meant to ask for a while, ever since he stepped foot onto campus and his accommodation.

“Is ____ with you?” Jungkook asks.

Jungkook did so some growing in the time after you’d graduated, and he supposes that he relied a little too much on you as well as Jimin and Taehyung growing up in high school. Because once the three of you graduated, Jungkook was essentially left to fend for himself when you no longer were able to pick him up with a call away or help him out with difficult math problems when you had college to worry about.

It was horrible at first, purely because Jungkook missed you and your kindness. Sure, phone calls and texts worked—but your presence was always more than what words could ever offer, and Jungkook found himself searching for other methods to survive the next two years in high school without you there looking over him.

His football teammates had always been just his football teammates until he was forced to fraternise with them on a deeper level, and he realised that they weren’t too bad. They were fun and full of life, definitely the type of people that he found himself having fun with. He’s always been surrounded with people that were older than him, you, Jimin and Taehyung for example—and having peers his age to hang out with was a pandora box he never knew he’d ever get used to.

Take Eunwoo for example. Jungkook was petrified of him because there was no way a sixteen-year-old could look that could, and if he looked like that before puberty finished its course—then what the hell was he going to look like after?

But he was a nice guy, a fun person to hang out with and he definitely taught Jungkook some things he’d never dare ask Jimin or Taehyung. Things about women and men; the interrelationships that could be navigated with enough practice.

And enter Yuna, the first girl he’s ever had the ability to get to know in his life besides you. It was the typical cheerleader-meets-footballer trope that Jungkook would always scoff at, but according to Eunwoo “it’s only right that the same type of people minded together.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows when Eunwoo clasped him on his back when he told him that with a wink, suggestive eyes when he exposed a not-so-secret that Yuna had on Jungkook after one of their football games during his senior year.

But Jungkook thought otherwise, probably because he remembered you telling him that people were fundamentally different and social interactions with different walks of life only made life more beautiful and worth living. Seeing the diversity in cultures and experiences opens up our hearts to a world that doesn’t exist for us—it keeps us humble.

Jungkook blindly agreed then, likely entranced with you in general to consider the weight of your words. But Eunwoo was like a constant reminder, and he was older then—a little more subdued enough to pay attention to the words of his friend.

And when Jungkook continued his high school life, it seemed like more and more people seemed to pay attention to him. It wasn’t like he was unpopular before, he definitely caught the eyes of many—but it was different then. It was like Jungkook was his own person and people thought he was cool enough to approach.

So when Yuna shyly asked him out for a date, Jungkook said yes even though he still thought of you.

And when Eunwoo slapped a pack of condoms into his palm while his other football teammates hollered, Jungkook took the leap of faith and lost his virginity the same night.

So, yeah. Jungkook did some growing up—and he hopes that it’ll be enough for you to see him as a man.

“—she’s always doing so much that she barely has time for us and I get that she’s always been an overachiever but we miss her, you know?” Jimin complains, and Jungkook just about returns back from his flashback.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Jungkook says sheepishly.

“Were you not listening to me rant for the past five minutes?” Jimin exasperates and Jungkook hears some shuffling and a chuckle, possibly coming from Taehyung, on the other end of the line.

“You do have the tendency to go off tangent, Jimin,” Jungkook mutters.

Jimin scoffs, “It’s called paying attention to the details you brat. But anyway, to sum it up for you since you wanna be annoying—_____ isn’t with us. She’s got this student council thing and a meeting with a bunch of ambassadors visiting the campus in the evening.”

Jungkook blinks, taking a moment to process the information. He smiles fondly to himself, realising that you always did fine on your own—and he supposes it’s always been that way. You were quiet and never imposing, but you still did your best.

“Oh.” Jungkook says, “Will I be able to see her soon?”

Jimin snorts on the other end.

“Why are you asking me? You have her number right?” Jimin retorts, “Though it may be difficult reaching her cause she takes like five business days to reply if you aren’t work-related.”

Jungkook chuckles while he fiddles with his thumb. He can see you working hard, eyebrows furrowed as you type out emails and organise events like the efficient woman you were.

He’s seen pictures of you on social media, courtesy of Jimin and Taehyung who’d post stories of your pouts when they’d drag you out for some social time, according to their captions. And God, did you grow up even more beautiful than you were in high school.

Jungkook saw you as the girl he admired in high school and it was mostly his puppy-loved up brain thinking of you like this super smart and out of his reach senior that he wanted to respect. But now that Jungkook was … older. He still thinks you’re admirable and smart, but he can’t lie and say he didn’t notice other things.

Like how certain tops flatter your collarbones so nicely that he wonders what it’s like to sink his teeth into them. Or how you’ve experimented with tennis skirts that look like easy access for a territory Jungkook’s used as one of many of his spank bank materials. Even the way your eyes innocently glance up in pictures makes Jungkook’s brain hazy.

Jungkook was older, and so were you. The two of you were in college and it was different. You weren’t just his high school senior and he wasn’t just the little kid that worshipped you. It was free game and Jungkook wanted to make to most out of it.

“I will.” Jungkook nods with a declaration and a sense of determination in his chest. “What time does she finish?”

A brief moment of silence until Jimin responds, snorting to himself.

“She usually gets off her meetings at—10 pm?” Jimin ponders out loud. “You’re really going to wait for her?”

Jungkook wants to add he’s been doing that all this while, but keeps it to himself.

“Just can’t wait to see her.” He shrugs casually.

“You still have that schoolboy crush on her?” Jimin teases. But Jungkook doesn’t flush this time. He’s had his handful of experiences to navigate his way with feelings and desire.

“Not a crush.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. But he wasn’t going to admit that to Jimin or Taehyung just yet. “Is it bad to want to see an old friend?”

“Whatever you say, Jungkook.” Jimin sing-songs. “But I will warn you; _____ isn’t the type.”

At this, Jungkook furrows his eyebrows.

“What?”

Jimin sighs, “Whatever it is you’re thinking … stop.” And his words oddly set off an uneasy feeling in Jungkook’s chest that he doesn’t like. “You know _____. She’s not the kind of person that dates or fucks around. I don’t think she’s even looked at any guy on campus ever since we were enrolled two years ago.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, feeling slightly ashamed that he’s been caught so early on. But along with growing up, Jungkook’s grown quite a bit of an ego too.

“What makes you think I want to fuck her? What if I really just miss her?” Jungkook snaps.

“Kook, I love you and you’re my best friend but I’ve seen your Instagram stories and escapades. I have no problem with you being sexually active or whatever—you do you, as long as it’s consensual and within respectable boundaries. I know you think college is like this unobstructed territory where you can just fuck around with people but _____ really isn’t like that. I’ve been there and I’m telling you to drop it.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw, “You’ve wanted to fuck her?” Jungkook accuses.

He can practically hear and feel Jimin’s eye roll over the phone.

“No, you idiot.” Jimin sighs, “I’ve had the same intentions as you with other women. While they may be receiving and comfortable with that, _____ won’t be. I hear and recognise your tone and I’m warning you against it.”

Jungkook purses his lips, wanting to defend himself further. But he realises, who is Jimin to tell him what to do with his life? He isn’t a kid anymore.

“You’re reaching.” Jungkook tells Jimin, “You don’t have to worry okay? I just miss ____ and I want to see her before orientation on Friday. Is that a crime?”

“Again, I don’t know what you really want so I won’t project anymore. But I’m telling you, ______ is _____. You don’t think dudes have tried with her before?”

Somehow the revelation of the fact that you did have two years to mingle around with other people and potentially get with men (or women) that weren’t him causes a different type of dread to fill his stomach, an ugly emotion of jealousy. One that he’s never felt before and he doesn’t like it at all.

“God, I haven’t even seen you yet and you’re already micromanaging my entire life.” Jungkook scowls.

“The double standard is real.” Jimin scoffs, “You used to follow _____ around like a lost puppy when we knew each other first? I feel betrayed, man.” Jimin is joking but the reminder makes Jungkook still.

"That's ... different." Jungkook protests.

Jimin snorts as if he doesn't believe his friend.

"Oh, it is different all right. You, my friend, are whipped." He snickers, "Too bad the two of you are basically polar opposites, huh?"

Jungkook freezes on the other end when Jimin casually lets it slip the thought that somewhat plagues his mind, too.

"We're not that different." Jungkook defends himself.

"Says you Mr Athlete all throughout high school. I bet you ten bucks that you were already recruited by one of the football dudes here."

Jungkook scowls because Jimin was spot on.

"Okay. I do sports and she doesn't. That's it." Jungkook snaps.

Jimin clicks his tongue, "You're all for the attention, dude. _____ always keeps it on the down-low while you do your best when people are cheering you on. It's like the spotlight follows you wherever you go and she does her best avoiding it."

Jimin clenches his jaw because while Jimin's words were lighthearted, and he knew better than to ever put you down because the three of you were all good friends—the fact that someone as close to the two of you as Jimin; was laying out the obvious makes Jungkook doubt himself a lot more.

"Oh, and you're the best at psychoanalysing people right?" Jungkook sneers.

Jimin snickers on the other end but Jungkook can't find it in himself to laugh.

"Relax. I'm joking, all right?" Jimin reassures his friend. "You don't even like her that way, right? That's what you said anyway."

Right. He didn't. That's what he told Jimin.

"Right," Jungkook says stiffly.

"If the two of you ever ended up together, though ..." It's as if Jimin was the one dead-set on pushing for it as Jungkook wishes for him to drop it. "Nah. It wouldn't happen. It probably wouldn't work out either."

Jungkook forces a dry chuckle before muttering a lame excuse and hanging up.

He loved Jimin, the guy was a good friend on an average day and an absolute sweetheart on better ones. And Jungkook knew that Jimin meant no malice when he spoke of the potential relationship between you and Jungkook because, well ... Jungkook has always been the younger guy. And that would be weird, wouldn't it?

But Jungkook knows he's done some growing up. And he'll prove it—in whatever way possible.

Jimin doesn’t need to know.

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forthehpfanboys · 3 years

Text

Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.

Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~

It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.

So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.

The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.

The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.

You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.

You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.

“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”

You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.

“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame.

“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.

“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.

“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.

Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.

“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead.

“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.

“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.

Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”

“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit.

“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling.

Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.

“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.

“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours.

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily.

The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.

He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead.

“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”

“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny.

“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.

“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.

“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry.

You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.”

“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.

“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.

“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.

“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.

“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers.

“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.

“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”

“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.

Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.

“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.

“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him.

“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.

You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.

“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.

“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.

“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”

“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.

“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.

“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”

You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.

“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.

“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.

“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back.

“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”

“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,

“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.

With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.

“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.

“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”

Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.

“I like this one.”

A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.

#Ron Weasley #ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley imagine #hp x male reader #x male reader #male reader #ron weasley smut #hp imagine #hp fic #punk!ron weasley

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baconsoupforthesoul · 4 years

Text

The Ink Demonth - Day 11 - Bargaining

Keeping the Peace

A/N: I might be streaching the prompt a bit here, but I couldn’t resisit doing something for my friend’s Wild West AU. Henry in this au belongs to @doberart and Harrison belongs to @inkspottie and I hope you all enjoy!

“You don’t need to always be checking up on me, you know?”

Henry looked up from his drink into his younger brother’s slightly annoyed face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just here for a drink. Can’t the sheriff get a nice refreshing glass of water while he’s on duty from his favorite local establishment?” Henry gave Harrison a cheeky grin as the shorter boy rolled his eyes.

“Oh really now?” Harrison raised a suspicious eyebrow at his brother, to which Henry could only chuckle.

“I promise Harrison, I’m not trying to hover,” Henry told him honestly. “Just this late at night, at the town’s most popular bar, if there’s going to be trouble anywhere in this town, it’s going to be here. I’m just keeping my ear low to the ground.”

“Alright, I’ll let you off the hook,” Harrison sighed as he picked up his dish rag. “This time anyway.” Harrison pointed an accusatory finger at Henry, but he couldn’t suppress the playful smile on his face.

Henry chuckled as he watched his brother go off to wipe down more tables. The Palette was certainly a lively place tonight. Folks from all over Inkwell and even quite a few out of towners were packed into the salon. Henry had to admit, he and Harrison had it pretty good here. After spending only two years as deputy, he had been made sheriff of this place and the town hadn’t given him too much work in the past 3 years. Inkwell was a fairly law-abiding place. Still, trouble could find you anywhere, even in a town as quiet as Inkwell.

Just as Henry was about to take another sip from his drink, he’s startled by a loud bang just outside the Palette. A gun shot. Henry turned around sharply, but he didn’t see anyone wielding a pistol, and no one appeared to be injured. Most of the bar goers were staring out of the tavern doors. He could see Harrison out of the corner of his eyes looking as white as a sheet. The younger boy gave Henry a worried look as his brother got up and uncliped his gun holster.

“Careful Henry,” he said softly, his playful mood from before long gone.

“Don’t worry, Harrison. I’ll handle this,” Henry said as he gave Harrison a reassuring smile.

The sheriff pushed open the tavern doors and surveyed the late night street. He didn’t see any evidence of a fight or any sort of shoot out. So who had fired that gun?

He turned to his left to see two gentlemen laughing loudly, practically falling over due to the force of their laughter. One of them was mostly bald except for the scruffs of hair around his ears and the back of his head, along with a scar on his forehead. The other man had a full beard and was wearing a cowboy hat and an eye-patch. The sheriff also took note that one was holding a pistol, and that there was an apple set up on a barrel a ways away.

Henry didn’t recognize either of them from around town. He believed he had seen them as they strolled into town today though, and when asked had introduced themselves as Charley and Barley.

“You couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn!” Barley hollered, slapping his knee.

“Shut up!” Charley yelled, brandishing his pistol. “I just had something in my eye. I’ll get it this time.”

“Excuse me gentlemen,” Henry called out as he approached. “Mind telling me what all the fuss is about out here?”

“What’s it to you, sheriff?” Charley grumbled, shooting Henry a dirty look as he stepped into his personal space. Henry wrinkled his nose as he smelt the strong smell of alcohol wafting off of the man.

“There’s no need to be rude, Charley,” The bearded one lightly chided his companion, taking a step forward as he pulled Charley back slightly. “How you doing, sheriff? Wanna see Charley here miss his shot again?”

“You shut your yap!” Charley spun around and slapped the other man’s hands off him. “I’mma put a hole right in the middle of that damn apple, you’ll see!”

Henry frowned, the situation becoming all the more clear to him. He could smell booze off the both of them, and it appeared like they were having some sort of shooting contest out here.

“As entertaining as that sounds, why don’t you put the gun away, yeah?” Henry advised, eyeing the pistol wearily. “I’m afraid you can’t just have a shooting contest out in the middle of the street. Someone could get hurt.” Henry would hate for some innocent bystander to get shot cause two drunken men wanted to show off their aim.

“Like I give a damn,” Charley scoffed. “This don’t concern you, gold star. If ya don’t like it, then you can kiss my ass.”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes at him. “I think it very much concerns me when the good people of this town’s safety is at stake,” he argued, voice stern.

“The two of you seem a little worse for drink,” Henry continued, trying again to pacify the situation without it escalating. “Why don’t the two of you go sleep it off. I know a couple places you could get a bed for the night, at a reasonable price too.”

“Are ya deaf!” Charley yelled, spinning around to glare at Henry. The intoxicated man stomped up and got right up in Henry’s face. The smell of alcohol off the man’s breath was so strong it almost made Henry gag. "I said this ain't any of your business! If you're so bothered by it then ya can get lost before you end up getting hurt, goldstar." The underlying threat didn’t go unnoticed as Henry took a step back, his hand hovering over his holster.

"Woah, easy there Charley," Barely stepped up and gently but firmly pulled his friend back. Charley shook his friends hands off but stepped back, still clearly fuming.

"I apologize for my friend here, he just gets a little riled up once he's reached the bottom of the bottle," Barely tried to explain. "We don't want any trouble. Why don't we all settle down and… put all this behind us, yeah?"

Barley reached out and grasped Henry's hand, giving it a firm shake. Henry blinked in confusion as he felt something like paper in the palm of Barley's hand. Or rather, it kind of felt like a dollar bill. It took a second for his brain to put two and two together before it dawned on him.

This man was trying to bribe him.

"Huh?" Barley let out a noise of surprise when he felt the cold metal cuff lock onto his wrist.

"Mighty bold of you to try to bribe me, sir," Henry told him, his tone ice cold. “I think the two of your can sleep off your night of drinking in the jailhouse tonight. Now if you would kindly put your other hand behind you please?”

Barely stood frozen as Henry carefully guided his other hand behind him and secured the cuffs. “But-but-but surely we can sort this out sheriff! I may have some more coins jingling in my pocket here…”

“Not interested,” Henry deadpanned. “Now if you could also put your hands behind y-”

“Like hell!” Charley yelled, cutting Henry off as he pulled out his pistol. “You ain’t taking either of us anywhere!”

“Easy there,” Henry cautioned, his whole body tense as he stared down the barrel of the gun. “I’m just taking you boys in for one night in the jailhouse. That’s all. No need to do something you’ll regret.”

“Oh, you’ll think I’ll regret it, do ya?” Charley scoffed, cocking the gun back.

Henry could feel his blood run cold as he stared at the armed man. He’d been lucky in his job so far, having not had too many violent crimes to deal with. But now he was staring death in the face, all over a dumb shooting contest. His thoughts raced as he tried to think of his next move. How could he get out of this without anyone getting hurt?

“Henry!”

The sheriff's eyes widened as he heard Harrison call out to him. No… Harrison was supposed to have stayed in the salon, not out here with a drunken trigger happy man who could easily turn the gun on his brother. He can’t help but glance back, seeing Harrison standing on the steps of the bar looking horrified.

Before Henry has a chance to say something though, and before Charley can even pull the trigger, Henry hears a soft click from behind the armed man.

“I’d put the firearm down, son,” a gravelly voice drawled. Charley went as white as a sheet as he felt a gun being prodded into his back.

“Norman!” Henry startled, feeling the tension slowly fade away. “I didn’t even hear you come up. It’s good to see you.”

“Same, sheriff.” Norman replied. “I was just moseying about and saw that you could use a hand here. Now,” Norman turned his attention to the man he was holding at gunpoint. “if you could put that ol’gun away and put your hands up, that would be mighty kind of you son,” Norman ordered Charley, who gulped and did as he was told. “You wanna pass me another pair of cuffs, Henry?”

“Sure thing, thanks for help, Norman,” Henry shot his friend a grateful smile as he passed another set of handcuffs to him.

“Are you alright, Henry?” Harrison exclaimed as he rushed forward, almost tripping over his own feet to go check on his brother.

“I’m just fine, Harrison,” Henry turned to look down at his brother’s worried face. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

“Yeah, like you had it just five seconds ago,” Harrison argued, letting out a long sigh. “Don’t scare me like that, Henry! If Norman hadn’t shown up…”

“I did though, no need to worry yourself about the what ifs son,” Norman told him gently. “I’ll help your brother with these two fellas, don’t you worry Harrison.”

Harrison looked between the two of them before heaving another long sigh. “Alright… you guys just be careful, okay?”

“Sure thing, Harrison,” Henry agreed, a soft smile on his face, reaching out to ruffle Harrison’s hair. “I’ll see you back at home, Harrison.”

“You better,” Harrison huffed, batting Henry’s hand away before crossing his arms. Henry only chuckled in response as he and Norman led the two men away.

“I may have a real nice ring in my back pocket, if that helps sheriff?” Barley tried again, turning back to look at Henry.

“No thanks,” Henry scowled at him. “How about you do less bribing and more walking, yeah?”

Henry sighed as the four of them made their way to the jailhouse. This was the first time someone had ever tried to bribe him. It made him feel sick just knowing that there were plenty of lawman out there who would have happily taken the money and looked the other way. He couldn’t imagine letting greed get in the way of maintaining the peace of this town. People counted on him here, and he refused to let them down.

“You know, your brother does have a point though,” Norman spoke up, looking over at Henry. “You’re lucky I showed up when I did. I think you might want to think about finding yourself a deputy, Henry.”

“Yeah… I really should,” Henry agreed with a sigh. Night’s like tonight made that all the more clear. “I just need to find just the right one for the job.”

#the ink demonth #ink demonth #bendy and the ink machine #batim #henry stein #charley #charley batim #barley #barely batim #norman polk #wild west au #doberart #inkspottie #spacy writes

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ringa-starr · 5 years

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What You Mean to Me Ch6

A/N: Whoo! Finished! Hey all my beautiful dudes and dudettes! Here it is: the chapter that starts all the drama! I hope you guys are as excited to read it as I am for you all to read it! lol That being said I won’t babble too long I just wanted to say I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and please leave any comments or suggestions you have below.

See you guys for part 7!

Stay breathtaking, excellent, and as always be excellent to each other!

I love you all,

-Deidra <3

Outfits:

Emily smiled as she looked through the display full of t-shirts at Hot Topic the next afternoon.

Eyes lighting up, Emily gasped as she picked up a white t-shirt with the words My Brain is 80% Song Lyrics in gray letters.

“Dee”, Emily said to her best friend who was looking through another display of shirts a couple steps behind her, “don’t you just love this shirt? You should get one too! And they come in all kinds of colors- “

Emily stopped talking, her smile fading when she noticed her friend wasn’t paying attention to her, a frown on her face as she distractedly went through the clothes on the display she was looking though, barely giving them a glance.

“Dee?” Emily tried again.

Deidra slowly looked up, feeling nervous suddenly.

“Hey, Em?” she said quietly. “W-When you first had sex with Bill-“Deidra could feel her face turning warm as she went on with her question. “How long did you miss your period for?”

Emily’s eyes went slightly wide, taken aback by the question.

Laying the shirt across her arm, Emily looked through a couple more t-shirts before answering Deidra’s question.

“Dee, I never missed my period”, she replied, confusion and concern lacing her voice. “That does remind me though, on the way home I need to pick up some more tampons.”

“Good”, Deidra added quickly. “My mom asked me to pick up some medicine for Adam anyways. He hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

“Aww poor Adam”, Emily said sympathetically. “I hope he feels better soon.”

“Yeah”, Deidra agreed, feeling bad that she lied to her best friend. “Me too.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Dee?” Emily asked as the girls sat down at the mall’s food-court later that day. “You don’t look very well.”

“I’m ok, Em”, Deidra replied, looking down at the orange chicken from Panda Express on her plate. “I guess I’m just tired. I didn’t really sleep well last night.”

Emily took a bite of her tuna, bacon, cheese, ranch dressing, and all the salad makings except olives sandwich from Subway before gently leaning over and feeling Deidra’s forehead, causing Deidra to smile.

“Em”, Deidra said with a laugh. “I’m okay really. Boy, you’re getting as bad as Barry.”

Emily laughed before taking a sip of her Mellow Yellow.

“Yeah”, she said. “Barry told River you got sick last night.”

“Boy, that moron doesn’t know when to keep his big yap shut, does he?” Deidra asked with a smile, stabbing a Chinese noodle with her fork and twirling it around. “Now your brother’s gonna be concerned.”

“Well, duh!” Emily cried, sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes. “You know River looks at you like another sister. Of course, he’s concerned.”

Emily wiped some tuna off the side of her lip with her napkin.

“He told me to ask about you”, she added, “and for me to tell you that he’s thinking about you.”

Deidra smiled. “Well, tell him I said thanks”, she replied, “but I’m sure this is nothing but a stomach bug or something.”

She took a sip of her sweet tea.

“You guys worry about me like I’m dying or something”, Deidra added with a laugh.

Emily smiled back.

“That’s what friends do”, she replied. “We worry. It’s like our job.”

“Well, thank you”, Deidra told her. “In some…weird way I actually appreciate it.”

After leaving the food court, the girls went into Claire’s, each buying a few sets of new earrings before leaving the mall.

The closer they got to Walgreen’s, the more Deidra thought as she stared out Emily’s passenger seat window, trying to come up with a good explanation for why she felt so sick and what she could get in order to make herself feel better.

Emily parked her cherry red Mazda Mazda3 in front of the store and the girls got out, the cool, medication-scented air hitting them as soon as the automatic sliding doors opened.

Emily headed for the magazine section in the back of the store while Deidra headed for the medicine aisle.

As Deidra walked down the medication aisle, cold and flu medications in both liquid and tablet form surrounded her.

She picked up a bottle that contained a liquid medication that was made especially for nausea and vomiting, reading the back of it.

‘This kind of sounds like what I’m doing’, the teen thought to herself as she continued down the aisle, ‘but I’ll keep looking.’

Surely there had to be something in the store that could help her with her sudden tiredness as well.

Suddenly, Whams! Wake Me Up Before You Go Go played on the store’s overhead speakers, causing Deidra to smile and snap her fingers to the beat.

There was no way someone could be in a bad mood while this song was playing!

As she turned the corner to go down the next aisle, thinking it led to more medications, Deidra started lip syncing the lyrics and eventually started dancing as she went up and down the next aisle, not even taking time to notice the items on the shelves.

“I wanna hit that hiiiiiiiigggggghhhhhh!” Deidra sang, her eyes squeezed shut as she slid all the way to the end of the aisle on her knees.

She may have carpet burn now but Deidra didn’t care.

At that moment she had something else to worry about: in the mist of her dancing, she had knocked over almost a whole row of supplies.

Deidra felt her cheeks turn beet red as she looked around at all the baby bottles, rattles, cans of formula, and little jars of baby food that surrounded her feet, the shelves that were holding them almost completely empty except for maybe five or six items.

“Oops”, she said in a quiet voice, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

Hearing the loud crash, Emily ran to the end of the aisle her friend was on and shook her head, folding her arms across her chest as she eyed the large mess on the floor.

“Let me guess”, she said nonchalantly, her eyes slightly narrowed and a smirk on her face. “Wham! happened?”

Without moving an inch, Deidra nodded her head, knowing it was Emily standing a couple feet away from her.

Emily sighed and got on her knees, helping Deidra clean up the mess.

Deidra gave her friend a grateful smile as she got down on her carpet burned knees, picking up some formula cans.

Deidra had just set the cans back on their shelf and was about to get on her knees again, when a sick feeling came over her stomach causing her to close her eyes and place a hand around her middle.

“You ok?” Emily asked as she slowly stood up with a set of baby bottles in her hands.

Without opening her eyes, Deidra shook her head.

“I think I’m gonna be sick”, she said quietly before running to the store’s restroom.

Emily sighed sadly as she shook her head.

She wished there was a way she could help her friend feel better but what could she do?

That exact question was still in Emily’s head as she set the packet of baby bottles she was holding back on the store rack.

She was just about to bend over and start picking up some more items when something caught Emily’s eye: a whole straight line of different branded pregnancy tests.

“No!” Emily gasped to herself in a near whisper, feeling for a moment as if some force of power greater than herself was trying to tell her something.

She slowly looked in the direction of the Walgreen’s bathroom then back at the tests just as slowly.

“Could she really be- “Emily whispered to herself, the thought sounding more and more crazy the more she thought about it.

“Deidra?” Emily whispered again, cocking an eyebrow. “Pregnant?”

With shaking hands, Emily slowly reached over and took a random pregnancy test off the rack, studying it carefully.

Emily was so engrossed with the test that she didn’t even notice Deidra standing behind her.

“Hey, whatcha lookin’ at?” Deidra asked with a smile, causing Emily to jump out of skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, Deidra apologized as she bent down to clean up more of the mess she made. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The teen noticed the pregnancy test in Emily’s hand and smirked.

“Emily Phoenix!” Deidra cried, a teasing smirk on her face. “Is there something you’re not telling me, young lady?”

Emily smirked back.

“Maybe you should ask yourself that question, Dee”, Emily replied as she eased herself back up off the ground.

She held out the test to her friend.

“Anything…you wanna tell me?” Emily asked quietly, yet seriously.

Deidra frowned, a serious look coming across her face as she slowly looked down at the test before making eye contact with her best friend again just as slowly.

The girls stood still in their places, the only sounds around them being the store’s air conditioner as well as their speakers overhead playing a local radio station, and the sliding doors opening and shutting as customers came in and out, just looking into each other eyes, each holding an end of the pregnancy test.

Finally, after what seemed like centuries, tears welled up in Deidra’s eyes, everything making sense to her now as she finally admitted to herself something she kept denying.

With a tearful sob, she threw her arms around Emily’s neck, almost knocking the poor girl over.

“I’m scared, Em”, Deidra admitted in a quiet, tearful voice.

“I’m so scared”, she added in a barely audible whisper.

Emily tightly hugged her friend back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, her mouth forming a thin line as she said a silent prayer for her friend.

Deidra didn’t want to let Emily go and to be honest, Emily wasn’t ready to let go of Deidra either.

She wanted to take her best friend’s fear away and at that moment, Emily felt the only way to do that was to hold onto Deidra as tight as she could, knowing deep in her heart that was not the answer.

Deidra finally opened her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall several aisles over.

For the first time in a while, relief washed over her.

2:41 p.m. That meant that her parents were most likely still out, having their own plans to go out to lunch at Applebee’s then go see some friends.

Her brothers had their own afternoon plans as well.

Barry was most likely with River playing basketball at the high school gym and Adam was at the 2:40 showing of Back to the Future.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Deidra slowly reached behind Emily and started taking one of each different brand of pregnancy test Walgreen’s had to offer in her arms, ranging from the cheapest to the most expensive.

Neither girl said anything as they walked towards the check out line, Emily almost positive Deidra was going to be sick again, pass out, or both.

Deidra didn’t meet the cashier’s eyes as she sprawled the armful of tests she held onto the counter, but it seemed as if the cashier didn’t really care either way.

The teenage cashier with jet black hair with one large lime green streak in her face and gray eyes rang up each test one by one as she chewed her strawberry flavored gum, blowing a bubble.

When it popped, Deidra jumped a little causing Emily to gently place a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s ok, Dee”, she tried to reassure the anxious girl beside her. “It’s going to be ok.”

At the sound of Emily’s voice, the cashier glanced up at the two teenagers in front of her before shrugging her shoulders and ringing up the rest of the tests, now chewing her gum louder just for spite.

‘Bitch’, Emily thought with a small scowl as the cashier laid a now full Walgreen’s bag on the counter for the girls to take.

“That’ll be $35.21”, the cashier said as she took out a copy of 16 magazine, opening it.

Deidra made a move to take her wallet out of her purse, but Emily placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“I got this”, she told Deidra softly with a small, warm smile.

Deidra gave Emily a small smile in return, willing herself not to start crying again.

Emily placed the amount needed on the counter and took the bag, leaving with Deidra without another word from either teen or the rude cashier.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Deidra let out the breath she was holding before putting her head in her hands, jumping as the sound of Emily shutting the driver’s side door was heard.

Emily quickly buckled her seat belt before putting one hand on the wheel, starting the car with the other.

She looked over and gave Deidra a teasing smirk before putting her car in reverse, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

“You better drink up, Girl”, Emily said as she looked over shoulder and out the rear view window behind her, referring to Deidra’s unopened bottle of Root Beer she bought at the vending machine outside the mall before they left.

“You’ve got a lot of tests to take”, Emily added as she drove down the road towards Deidra’s house, glancing down at the drug store bag at her best friend’s feet.

Just as Deidra predicted, her house was eerily quiet and empty.

Even Lucky, the Goldberg’s family pet was quiet as she slept in her little doggy bed next to Murry’s, Deidra’s dad’s favorite chair.

To be honest, she really wasn’t used to the house being this quiet as there was always something going on with somebody…and this was no exception.

Looking over her shoulder, Deidra nodded her head at Emily who was still standing by her car, the Walgreen’s bag in her hand.

Emily quickly followed Deidra inside the house, shutting the door behind them.

“C’mon!” Deidra hissed. “Let’s go upstairs!”

Emily quickly followed Deidra upstairs and into the bathroom, shutting the door and switching on the light.

Sitting on the closed toilet, Emily started ruffling through the bag.

“Okay”, she said thoughtfully. “Do you want to take the cheapest one first, one in between first or the most expensive one first?”

Deidra finished her bottle of Root Beer, throwing it in the small trash can beside the toilet.

“Probably the cheapest one first”, she replied, feeling her drink slosh around in her stomach.

“Oh, God why did I drink that water too?” Deidra asked, a part of her speaking her thoughts as she gripped the side of the bathroom sink, remembering the long drink of water she took from the Walgreen’s water fountain earlier.

Her stomach felt so full of liquid at this point that it hurt a little to move.

Emily quickly found the test and handed it to Deidra before standing up and walking towards the door.

“I’ll be standing out in the hall”, Emily told her.

Deidra nodded and opened the toilet lid before examining the box, slowly opening it.

Deidra sighed taking out the boxes contents and reading the direction.

“Please please just be a bad stomach virus”, she pleaded in a whisper, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet.

Emily slightly jumped when the bathroom door opened and Deidra walked out into the hall a few minutes later.

Emily gave her friend a questionable look.

“Well?” she asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“Well what?” Deidra asked, a part of her playing dumb.

Emily smirked slightly.

“Are you…” She let the question cut off and it suddenly clicked in Deidra’s mind.

“Oh, I don’t know yet”, she admitted. “The test takes 10 minutes.”

Emily nodded. “And you still have several to take”, she added.

“Don’t remind me”, Deidra groaned slightly, feeling of her stomach.

“I feel like there’s enough liquid in here for every girl in San Dimas to take a pregnancy test or two”, she said, partly kidding.

Emily laughed out loud at her friend’s comment.

“If only it worked that way”, the teen laughed through laughs.

A little alarm from inside the bathroom started ringing 9 minutes later, signaling the test was ready.

Emily gave Deidra comforting smile as she gently touched her shoulder.

“Just focus on the negative, Dee”, Emily said kindly.

Deidra forced a smile back before taking a deep breath and walking in the bathroom, shutting the door.

“Hey”, Emily said to herself, eyes lighting up as she was reminded of something.

Smiling wide, the blonde grabbed her phone out of her pocket and went to her music player, ‘The Negative’ from Waitress the Musical filling the whole upstairs of the house.

Emily had just pressed the ‘Repeat’ button on the song when the bathroom door opened and Deidra walked back out.

Emily quickly paused the song and looked up at her friend.

Tears filled Deidra’s eyes again as she slowly made eye contact with her best friend, her face saying everything.

Emily’s smile dropped.

“Oh, Dee”, she softly gasped, rushing over and enveloping her best friend in a hug.

Deidra’s body started shaking as she quietly cried on Emily’s shoulder.

“What am I going to do?” Deidra cried, her tears falling down her face.

“Now, wait a second here”, Emily said, slowly pulling away from the hug. “There are still more tests to take in there.”

She gave Deidra an encouraging smile.

“Maybe this one was a fake positive”, Emily continued. “I mean, it was the cheapest test after all.”

“Yeah”, Deidra said thoughtfully as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re right.”

“Yeah!” Emily added, her smile growing wider as she turned the song back on again. “Like Jenna, Dawn, and Becky said, we’ll just keep our focus on the negative!”

For the first time that day, Deidra started feeling better.

Laughing, she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, boy”, she sighed. “Are you still obsessed with that musical?”

“I can’t help it”, Emily said with a small pouty look on her face. “It’s so good!”

Deidra laughed before going back into the bathroom.

About to shut the door, Deidra gave Emily one last big smile, crossing her fingers as well as her arms.

Emily smiled back, crossing her own arms and fingers as she watched Deidra shut the door.

Emily let out a relaxed, joyful sigh as she fell back on Deidra’s parent’s bed, her hair sprawled all around the bed, her arms spread out.

“Emily Phoenix”, Emily said to herself with a wide smile, eyes slightly narrowed, “is there anything you can’t do?”

Emily lay there on the bed of best friend’s parents for the next hour and was about to drift off the sleep when suddenly, her feeling of tiredness vanished and she was suddenly wide awake.

Emily hoped to her feet, pushing stray pieces of hair out of her face as she speed-walked over to where Deidra stood in front of the open bathroom door with her arms behind her back.

“Well?” Emily asked, eyes shining with wonder. “Was I right? The rest of them were all negative right?”

She didn’t even give Deidra a chance to open her mouth to answer.

“Oh, I knew it!” Emily cried happily. “See, Dee? You had nothing to worry abo-“

It was only then that Emily made eye contact with her best friend, accidental mind you, but contact none the less.

“Dee?” Emily questioned slowly. “Dee…are you ok?”

Deidra said nothing for a moment.

“You tell me”, Deidra finally said, releasing her arms from behind her back, dropping every pregnancy test she took onto the floor.

Emily jumped out of the way, preventing any of the tests wetness from getting on her.

The teen only had to look down for a split moment to see that all those tests said one thing…

“Positive”, Emily gasped out, her jaw dropped as she slowly looked up at Deidra.

“All those tests are positive!”

Deidra slowly nodded her head before sinking to her knees as she put her head in her hands, sobbing loudly, Emily instantly rushing over and taking her shaking best friend in her arms.

“Well, Emily”, Emily said to herself with a sigh. “What have we leaned today?”

Taglist:

@shhh-no-ones-home? @celestiaelisia @derangedcupcake @lindszeppelin

#keanu reeves #ted theodore logan #bill and ted #keanu reeves fanfiction #ted theodore logan fanfiction #bill and ted fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #ted theodore logan fanfic #bill and ted fanfic #keanu reeves fic #ted theodore logan fic #bill and ted fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #my writing

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glitchinthesystemspiderbyte · 6 years

Text

[52] Glitch in the System - The Beat Goes On (Pt. 2)

Sorry for the delay. E legitimately forgot what day it was because it’s snowmageddon and yesterday she got a very substantial and painful tattoo. Here’s Part 1 if you missed it!

We’ll also be streaming tonight around 7pm EST if you’re bored and want to hear us eat popcorn. We also take fic requests in real time so hit us up!

The dog park happens.

“Hey hey!” Lúcio announced as Sombra and Widowmaker emerged from their room, Sombra rubbing the sleep from her eyes in pyjamas, Widowmaker already dressed for the day and as alert as ever. “You lot like pancakes?”

“Yes,” Sombra replied immediately, leaving Widow’s side in a mad dash for the kitchen.

“You made us breakfast?” Widowmaker said, looking suspicious.

“Well yeah,” Lúcio laughed, peering out from the kitchen. He was wearing a dark green apron with his signature frog logo on it, and the scent of warm cinnamon wafted behind him. “That’s what a good host does.”

“Oh,” Widow replied, and Sombra could see her struggling to reconcile his unprompted kindness. The hesitation was obvious enough that Lúcio began to look a bit nervous until Widow unfurrowed her brows and looked up. “Pancakes are fine.” Then, to herself. “Why is it always pancakes?”

“Breakfast is ready, then!” he said, smile resuming its usual spot across his face. “Maple or hot fudge?”

“Hot fudge?” Sombra asked incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, right?” he grinned, handing Sombra a plate. “I was a maple boy myself until Hana turned me onto the idea of hot fudge over banana pancakes. Wanna give it a shot?”

“Sí absolutamente,” Sombra said without missing a beat, taking the banana he offered her next.

“I am not that adventurous,” Widow said as Lúcio passed her a plate. “I will be fine with maple.”

“Nothing wrong with the old standby,” he nodded. “Y’all sit, I’ll bring out the accoutrements.” He added a French accent to the last word, vanishing before Widow could judge him appropriately for it.

Breakfast was an easy affair - pancakes, some fresh local fruits, and a mix of tea and coffee offerings. Conversation was even easier - a feat Sombra missed from her time in Dorado - and they idled for a bit after finishing until Danu made it readily apparent that she needed to be let out.

“Anyone want to go on a walk?” Lúcio asked. Danu was the first to reply, with an exuberant bark and a wagging tail, and Sombra nodded as well.

“I could use some sun,” she said, glancing outside. It looked beautiful, if warm, and she missed the reliable muggy heat of home.

“I will finalize the plans for our departure?” Widowmaker suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Good plan, araña,” Sombra agreed. Lúcio snapped a leash onto Danu’s dollar and they were off.

It was late enough that the sun was shining, and early enough that the full weight of the oppressive midday Brazilian heat had yet to settle on the mountainside community. Danu walked nicely on her leash, sticking close to Lúcio’s side as they strolled down the smooth walkway that looped around the neighborhood. She didn’t tug at the leash once, and Sombra marveled yet again at how well Lúcio had managed to train her despite his impressively full calendar. The guy was booked solid for the next month - they’d just managed to catch him in time. She’d checked before asking to stay with him, of course.

“Where we headed?” Sombra asked, hands at her sides as they strolled along the walking path beside the road.

“Dog park down the way,” he said as a hovercar ambled by them. “Danu loves it so long as Bella isn’t there.”

“Bella?” Sombra asked, looking around. The neighborhood was a far cry from the favelas she knew Lúcio had grown up in, but a general feeling of camaraderie seemed to exist even within these spaced out structures. Folks outside tending their gardens or walking their dogs waved and called out to him by name, and he had a smile and personal greeting for each person they passed.

“One of the local dogs. Young boxer. Good pup, but a little rambunctious for Danu.” He chuckled and patted her head. “She might be big, but she’s a giant baby.”

“Poor girl.”

“Eh, she puts up with a lot,” he grinned. They turned a corner into what appeared to be a community park, and a few minutes later reached a large fenced in plot of land with several dogs playing as their accompanying humans chatted along the sides.

Lúcio unsnapped Danu’s leash and, after looking back for his nod of approval, she dashed off to join the others by the agility course and robotic fetch machines. One of the smaller dogs was yapping angrily at a robot as it held a ball out of reach, slowly winding back in preparation to pitch it into the distance. As the bot’s arm snapped and the ball flew, Danu trampled the small, eager pup and nabbed the ball before it even hit the ground.

“Oops,” Sombra said, grinning as she and Lúcio found a bench to sit on. “And you said she was a baby.”

“Even babies can be bullies,” he replied, amused. “She’s a gentle giant though.”

“Tell that to the terrier she just stepped on.”

Lúcio chuckled to himself as a large wolfhound raced by them, barking at another dog escaping with its toy. “That’s Breno,” he said as the hound passed. “He’s got a good spirit, even though he usually ends up being the punching bag of the park. Something about his size just makes him a target for attention it seems.”

“And Danielle thought Danu was a horse,” Sombra said, watching Breno lope hopefully over to the dachshund worrying his stuffed banana.

“His human’s over there,” Lúcio said, pointing as a diminutive woman sitting at a table eating a sandwich. “The irony thickens.”

“This is neat. I’ve never been to a dog park,” Sombra mused, leaning forward on her hands. “Weird, considering how much traveling I’ve done.”

“You don’t have a dog, do you?”

“Nope, just a very personable cat.”

“No occasion to visit the local dog parks then, I’d wager.” The conversation stalled slightly, and they turned their attention to the variety of happy canines and their companions. “Where have you traveled, anyway?” Lúcio asked casually after a few moments, following her eyes as she watched the dogs run.

“Just, you know,” she shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable and acutely aware that her open-ended comment had left her open to questions. “Around.” She’d let their easy camaraderie put her off guard, and she wasn’t ready with a compelling lie. A part of her, she noticed with a slow rising horror, didn’t even feel like trying.

“For any reason?” he pressed, and she noticed he was pointedly not making eye contact.

“Fun, I guess,” she replied slowly, racking her brain to come up with something believable. Traveling artist? Too flowery. Mobile consultant? Too dry. International IT? Ew.

“Fun?” Lúcio looked over at her with a curious expression on his face as she spoke, and she felt warning bells go off in her head. Familiar, gut-wrenching warning bells.

“And work,” she continued awkwardly, settling on a nondescript mixture of her vague train of thought. “I benefit from continuous business trips.”

Lúcio raised an eyebrow at her, draping an arm over the back of the bench. She saw him cast a glance around before he leaned slightly closer with a slow-dawning smirk on his face.

“Business trips, huh?” he said conspiratorially. “Is that just what you named them or are they called that in your dossiers from Talon, too?”

She sat up straight, an icy fear crawling up her spine like a spider. “What do you mean?” she asked, feeling any effort at denying the claim slipping through her teeth.

“Oh come on, Sombra,” he rolled his eyes. “I’ve known for a while.”

“How?” she asked in such a manner that Lúcio’s smile faltered ever so slightly.

“You weren’t exactly discreet,” he said, shrugging off his concern. “Hyper-cybridized former Los Muertos hacker involved in the LumériCo break-in? An uncanny knowledge of technology and networking? Mysteriously always surrounded by bright purple hard light screens with no CPU in sight?”

“Oops,” Sombra replied, remembering their several video chats wherein she took almost no precautions against what Lúcio had seen, only what he might find should he attempt to tap her connection. Programming error, she sighed to herself.

“I mean, I’ve read the Overwatch briefs.” He shrugged, seeming far too lackadaisical for a guy who just casually accused her of being involved in international terrorism.

“How -” she asked, her curiosity momentarily surpassing her worry. “How did you get classified briefings?”

“Hana,” he replied, offering her a rueful half smile. “She likes to make fun of how much they resemble StarCraft strategies. They might be full of propaganda and hyperbole, but some details stick out.”

“Like the brainwashed blue assassin?”

“Yeah, like that.”

Sombra’s brain raced, not an uncommon occurrence in itself, but this time it was tinged with an unfamiliar panic. Lúcio was a friend - a valued friend as it turned out, and no one in their right mind would keep her around once they knew who she really was.

Would she have to kill him? Somehow, the idea of sending Widowmaker after Lúcio made her more sick than her decision to remove Miguel as a security threat, even though - all things considered - Lúcio was a far greater concern than the low-status errand boy she once knew as a child.

In all honesty, she didn’t think she could do it, no matter what the consequences. Not now. She had a friend, and the importance of that had settled into her bones.

“I don’t have a great answer to this,” she said morosely, her weak response more palatable than the growing silence between them. Danu barked in the distance, the dog oblivious to what was happening a few feet away. “I did what I had to.”

“You had to work for Talon?” he asked, hands in his pockets as he looked off where Danu was jumping around happily. His tone was mildly accusatory, and while she bristled against it, she also had trouble finding fault in his distaste. She wasn’t a big fan of it herself.

“I didn’t have to,” she shrugged, upset at the turn the conversation had made. “And I only kind of work for them. It’s more an arrangement of convenience.”

“But Danielle…” he said. “She works for them.”

Sombra’s expression turned bitter. “She was created by them; she had no choice.”

“She’s still a murderer.”

“So am I.”

“But she likes to kill.”

“Well I love her anyway.”

Lúcio stopped and looked at her finally, smiling softly. “You what?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Sombra looked over at Lúcio to see his typical impish grin in place replacing the uncertainty that had lived there moments before. Offering a smaller one in return, she smacked him on the shoulder. “Jerk.”

“You know I only drop the truth.”

They laughed, but Sombra could feel the looming elephant in the room threaten to smother them again. She decided to beat it to the punch. “Listen, I know I’ve done some questionable - ok, shitty things, and that maybe my methods aren’t always the most...ethical. I enjoy manipulating those in power, because I can, and because I’m tired of watching the world be run by a handful of corrupt individuals with egoes to feed. But I swear on my mother’s grave,” she insisted, holding up a hand, “I am doing it for a greater good. I just…” she sighed. “Might not know exactly what that is yet. Not completely.”

Lúcio put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “We never do, do we? I didn’t know stealing my sound barrier would work; I just knew something had to be done, because things were bad and that was the only truth I knew for certain. Chances were just as good the Vishkar would have leveled the favela and everyone in it as punishment for my actions. There’s precedent for that, after all.”

“You’d certainly have made a convenient scapegoat,” Sombra agreed.

“Sure would have. As luck had it, the people had my back and were willing to put their bodies on the line for their freedom. Without that?” he shrugged. “I would have just been another corpse thrown against the cold metal shell of the Vishkar machine.”

“Survival’s a hell of a motivator, isn’t she?”

“Sure is.” He scratched the back of his head. “Listen, we all make choices for a reason, and I might not agree with all of yours, but I am the last person going to tell you that you shouldn’t have made them. Besides,” he chuckled. “I like having a friend to talk about this stuff with.”

“Yeah,” Sombra said, feeling uncharacteristically chagrined. “It’s been a while since I had a friend.”

“Me too, man,” Lúcio nodded in agreement.

Sombra scoffed. “You’re a fuckin’ liar. You’re man of the hour here - everyone knows you and loves you.” A part of her couldn’t help but feel hurt whenever she thought of how easily her role in LumériCo’s downfall was dismissed as an act of terrorism by those outside her country. At least Brazil loved Lúcio for what he did.

To her surprise, Lúcio’s response was laughter. “Yeah, I get how you might think that. Everyone does.” He whistled for Danu and the tall animal stopped worrying the stick she had pinned to the ground, ears perked up as he called her over. “I don’t want to sound like some ungrateful guy with too much fame, but sometimes it can get a bit lonely in the spotlight.” He shrugged, snapping Danu’s leash back onto her red collar as she loped to his side. “Folks forget where the music came from. I still got scars from where I dragged myself up out of the dirt, and I could have been killed stealing that Vishkar tech.” He looked at Sombra, his expression intent, and a little bit sad. “Sometimes you gotta break some rules to do what’s right, but the folks buying and promoting my music don’t always want to hear that, you dig?”

Sombra looked away and smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “I dig.” She let her mind wander back to her time in Dorado, after she’d left Los Muertos and vanished into anonymity. “Some fucking old American soldier comes in and says Los Muertos is a criminal gang to be purged, and then Overwatch labels me a terrorist for trying to take down a greedy corporate monster bleeding my people dry. But who stopped them in the end?” Her subsequent laugh grew bitter. “Those same criminals and terrorists.”

Lúcio laughed softly. “The Vishkar gave me a similar label.”

“Guess the only difference between us were sweet beats,” Sombra replied, smiling.

“Well I mean you also do work for a terrorist organization.” Sombra glared at him, but it didn’t hold up against his wide smile. “What?”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“Hey,” Lúcio said, sobering a bit. “Listen, I understand why you do what you do, and why you’ve done what you’ve done. I might not entirely get all your methods,” he smirked, “but I certainly understand your motivations.”

“Thank you,” she replied, swallowing. She felt an uneasy relief wash over her. “I suppose it goes without saying that if you tell anyone I’ll have to kill you?” She meant it as a joke, but considering recent events, it was difficult to commit entirely to the bit.

Luckily, Lúcio took it in stride. “Are you kidding me?” He shook his head. “You know way too many of my personal secrets at this point. I ain’t telling no one who you are.”

Standing up from the bench, he offered Sombra his hand. “I got your back, ok? You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

Sombra looked up at the face smiling knowingly down at her. It was unlike her to take people at their word; against her very nature to engage in the roulette game of trust. She’d survived by accepting no compromise on the matter, protecting her anonymity with a ruthless cunning that left no room for exploitation.

Except that she’d let Widowmaker in - a genetically engineered assassin with limited emotional savvy who all things considered should have turned her in a dozen times. She’d let Gabriel in, too, if to a lesser extent, and the man could have ruined her life with the stroke of a pen if so inclined.

So what was one more open door if the person on the other side was willing to keep it safe?

Taking his hand, she let him pull her up into a hug. It felt nice, being close to someone that wasn’t Widow.

“All right,” she said, stepping back. Danu barked at them, and she interpreted it as approval, and the words came out easier than she ever would have thought. “I trust you.”

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic. Table of contents located here.

#spiderbyte #sombramaker #widowsombra #sombra x widowmaker #widowmaker x sombra #sombra #olivia colomar #widowmaker #amélie lacroix #amelie lacroix #lucio correia dos santos #lucio #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fandom #overwatch fic #glitch in the system #glitchfic

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beepbeepliv · 6 years

Note

I know you said It ships but could you write something henclair, with its all my fault. pretty please 💕

I love to fuck with my favourite characters and Dustin is a fave so I apologise babe

Dustin gets spiked. Sorry for the shitty ending... i remembered it was supposed to be a drabble TW: super vague mentionsof intent to rape

“I won’t go, if you don’t want me to,” Dustin said, for thefifth time, glancing back at where he knew Lucas was stood, just staring. Heshook out of his daze and shrugged.

“No, go! You should go! I’m just… not sure about him.” Hesaid, still confused within himself at why he didn’t want Dustin going out. They’dbeen together for 4 years, he knew the younger boy would not be leaving him forthis guy, but he still felt off about the whole thing.

“Dude, his father is a director. He said he saw potential in me. I can’t pass that up!” Dustincontinued, putting down his comb and getting up from the dresser to approachwhere Lucas was still stood, crossed armed.

“I know, babe, I know.” He replied, pulling Dustin closeonce he was within reach, so they were both pressed against the wall, “I know...I can’t help if I worry about you,”

“I’ll be fine! I’ll text you the whole way. If he triesanything. I’ll bite him, and Dart will sense my pain and come running,” Almoston cue Dart started howling from his cage, Lucas smiled over at him fondly andDustin heart swelled at the amount of love Lucas had for Dart.

(He had squealed the first time he met him. “Oh my God. Hethinks he’s a wolf! Dustin, I love him,”)

Dustin still saw a bit of worry in Lucas’ expression.

“Fake dating someone isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,”Dustin murmured, then he growled, trying to lighten the mood, and it workedbecause Lucas’ concerned expression morphed into disgust. He pushed Dustin onthe shoulder and turned to walk away when he was caught by the waist and pulledback. Lucas struggled, trying not to concede too quickly.

“Boys who growl don’t deserve boyfriends,” He yelledobnoxiously

“No! baby, don’t leave me I’m sorry.” Lucas finally laughed,spinning around in his boyfriend arms, he placed his hands on Dustin’sshoulders.

“How sorry?” he asked cheekily.

“ooh, let me show you,” Dustin replied, wiggling hiseyebrows, Lucas rolled his eyes but kissed him anyway.

He obviously didn’t go to the door when Dylan came around topick Dustin up, they could have played it like he was a roommate but Lucasdidn’t need any reason to feel jealous and do something stupid like kiss Dustinto assert his masculinity. He was fine just watching from the upstairs window.

He did get a text soon after he left

8.33 – Dustin: I toldyou, you were hotter. Nothing to worry about *lennyface*

Lucas couldn’t help his laughter.

“Fucking loser,” he murmured heading to the bedroom, he andDustin had set up a pretty decent fort before he had to leave, and Lucas wasn’tjust going to let it go to waste. He had only seen Black Panther once… thisweek. It was time to watch it again.

He let Dart out and the small husky immediately jumped athim,

“Okay boy, c’mon let’s go watch some black excellence,” heyipped as if he understood and followed him back to the bedroom, settling inbeside him and licking at his face. He laughed and snuggled up close as hepressed play.

Turns out he didn’t have time to feel bad or have anyworried thoughts about Dustin and Dylan because he was getting constant textupdates. At least every 15 minutes.

9.07 – Dustin: You may have to watch your back babe. Dylan’s got anextensive Pokémon collection.

9.07 – Lucas: DnD is better. It’s okay, I’ll date Will

9.10 – Dustin: Don’t you dArE

Lucas giggled and turned to show the messages to dart, whoyapped, recognising the small icon as Dustin. He headbutted the screen.

“Who would get you in the divorce?” he asked, “Me or yourdaddy?”

Dart yapped once. Lucas nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lucas focused back on thefilm till he felt his phone go off again.

9.23 – Dustin: Damn, Pokémon and a rugby player. Get you a man that doesboth amirite? Why don’t you ever offer me your jersey?

9.25 – Lucas: We don’t have jerseys you idiot, but you can wear mygross basketball shirt anytime!

9.25 – Dustin: mmhmboyfriend sweat. Rawr

Fucking loser, Lucas thought fondly as he led Dart back tohis cage and fed him dinner, he refilled the water bowl before locking him in. Hewould usually let him roam, but he wasn’t currently aware enough to take goodcare of him (Dart fucking loved to escape, and Lucas was too tired to go outsearching – plus it was dark). He didn’t want to fall asleep and wake up andhave him gone. Dustin would genuinely murder him.

He returned to another text.

9.31 – Dustin: he puts pineapple on his pizza. At this point I maynever come back babe byefelicia.gif

Lucas just rolled his eyes, pressing play on the movie. DamnDaniel Kaluuya was nice to look at, even if his character was an idiot.

There wasn’t another text for a while but at this pointLucas wasn’t even worried anymore. He actually felt sorry for Dylan because hewas sure Dustin was spending more time on his phone that paying attention tohim.

10.00 – Dustin: Yikes well he just asked me to come back to his placeto take some headshots for his dad… that sound like a proposition to me…thoughts?

Lucas bit his lip, contemplating, he didn’t want Dustin tomiss out on any opportunities because of him. But he also did not want Dustingoing over to this guys house. He trusted his boyfriend, definitely but hecouldn’t speak for the other guy. He must have been thinking for too longbecause another text came in soon after.

10.03 – Dustin: I’m taking that as a no.,, I thought as much, justwanted to cross check. I’m in the bathroom now so I’ll just go back out, downmy drink and say I have to head home. The fort still up babe?

10.04 – Lucas: I never want to take it down.

10.04 – Lucas: Also… if you really want to go...

10.05 – Dustin: Shut up Lucas. Rollseyes.gif

Lucas sniggers and places his phone down in the bedsidetable. He really, really didn’t want Dustin going home with Dylan – so he washappy. He went downstairs to go refill his popcorn and ran into Stan, one oftheir roommates cleaning up. He held back the urge to roll his eyes. He lovedStan, really – but that boy loved to clean.

Lucas tried his hardest, all the time, he ready did, but he wasstill learning how to live with someone with OCD and wasn’t sure what to do.

“Hey dude, do you wanna come up and watch Shrek with me?” heasked. Stan kept scrubbing – a bit frantically.

“No, No I, uh, I have a date with Richie in 30 minutes,but,” he paused, breathing frantically, “I can’t leave until it’s clean,” hefinished. Lucas nodded, out of his comfort zone. He wished Dustin was here.Dustin was fucking amazing at calming Stan down.

“Okay, I’ll help. We can get this done in like 10!” Lucasoffered, placing the bowl down.

“Really? Thank you, thanks!” Stan shoved some cleaning materialshis way and Lucas chuckled, getting to work on the dishes.

Lucas and Stan manged to clean up in 20 minutes leaving Stan10 to freshen up and get out the door. He was pretty proud of himself. Hesorted his popcorn and ran back up, swearing when he realised he didn’t pauseit.

“Can’t miss Shrek, this film is iconic,” he whispered tohimself, laughing at his own joke. As he rewound the film he noticed his phoneflashing and remembered Dustin. It was coming close to half ten- he was probablytexting to say he was close by. Lucas picked up his phone to check

10.10 – Dustin: Bill paid, walking to the car! Keep the fort warm forme!

10.12 – Dustin: Luca I don’t feel god,,, Cld you make msome soup for,,

10.15 – Dustin: he lockd the doors and im sleep

Lucas’ heart dropped, and he felt his vision tunnel as thesound of the film faded into the background. He must have read that wrong or hewas misinterpreting.

10.15 – Dustin: this isn the way hoe…. Hes not takjin me home. Imscared

This was not happening. This was not happening. Not to Dustin. Not his boy.

10.16 – Dustin: oh my g,

10.16 – Dustin: I think;; he spiked me.

10.16 – Dustin: I thi he spik my coke

Lucas stopped reading the text and looked at the time. Itwas 10.34. This had happened almost 20 minutes ago. He was such a badboyfriend. Anything could be happening. His mind was going wild with possibilities.Anything could be happening. Heneeded to find Dustin and get to him but, no car, they had no car. How could he--?He had to—Steve! Steve had a car. He was a three-minute bike ride away.

Lucas’ mind was made in an instant.

He ran down, stumbling on the stairs and quickly openingSnap-maps to find Dustin. He located him and sped down to Steve’s, it was dangerousbecause he was nervous, his hands were shaking, and he couldn’t really see. Healmost got hit multiple times, but it was worth it for his boy.

He banged on Steve’s door obnoxiously and repeatedly till hecame down. He was in pyjamas, but Lucas didn’t have the heart to make fun ofhim for going to bed to early.

Steve took in his state and expression and his frown lightenedup.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, grabbing his car keys from the standin preparation.

“Dustin—I – I can’t. It’s all my fault, spiked— his drinkgot spiked. We- we need to go. 16 Pembrooke Drive. Steve now, Steve! He spiked him!!Anything could be—he could be— oh god!” Lucas didn’t even know when he begancrying, he was so frustrated and couldn’t believe he was wasting so much time.Dustin had been alone and out of it with the guy for at least half an hour. Whoknows what was happening?

Luckily Steve seemed to understand and nodded solemnly,

“Get in,” he said, beeping the car open and speeding off assoon as they were both in. He inputted the directions into the satnav. Lucas reluctantlywent back to Dustin’s texts

10.13 – Dustin: Sorry, I sosrry, so sorry,. ‘’; I cahkgkn’t

10.13 – Dustin: u wer rit; I sorry ii lovv . I cant ;’kgkjl

“Fuck,” he whispered, feeling more frustrated tears comepouring out, “fucking fuck,” he slammed his hand on the dashboard.

“Lucas, we’ll get there. He’ll be alright.”” Steve said, hisvoice calm and steady, contrasting his death grip on the steering wheel. Lucasdidn’t believe him.

“This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have let him go. Stupid,stupid, stupid,”

“Hey, hey listen up shithead. Did you spike him? No. so stopthat self-blame shit, cause that’s not helping him right now.” Lucas’ mouth slammedshut and he nodded. Steve was right. Focus on Dustin.

They got there, and Lucas was tumbling out of the doorbefore the car had even come to a full stop, he distantly heard Steve reprimandinghim but just ran forward into the house, ramming the door with his shoulder. Hejumped back as pain flared up in his arm, but only took a moment to recover beforehitting it again and again.

“Shit, Lucas, step back,” Steve said, when he’d finallycaught up, pushing Lucas back and picking the lock.

They ran in to find a shirtless guy standing in front of thefridge, holding a bowl of grapes. Lucas felt anger flare up in his gut as hetook in his dishevelled hair and unclasped jeans. The guy frowned when theywalked in, taking a step back,

“Who the fuck are you? Why are you in my house?” He asked,

“Dylan Ffion?” Lucas asked, stalking towards him. The guy shrugged,dropping the grapes and crossing his arms defensively,

“Who’s asking?” Lucas reared back and decking him across theface. Groaning when he pulled his shoulder more and bruised his knuckles, thepunch wasn’t as hard as he would have liked but the shock factor helped him asthe guy flew back, clutching his nose. “What the fuck, dude?”

“Where’s Dustin?” he asked coldly, the guys eyes widened in realisation,but he quickly schooled his expression, grabbing a cloth to catch the bleeding.

“fuck! What are you a jealous ex? I don’t have to tell youshit about his dating life,” dating life,Lucas felt disgust grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Look, you fuck, Dustin texted me saying you drugged him,you piece of shit, so unless you want me to leave and go straight to thestation, you’ll tell me where he is and pray to God I find him in a decent condition.If I find that you’ve harmed a single fucking hair on his head, I’ll skin you.”He reeled off, stepping into the other guys personal space. He seemed tofinally be understanding how serious the situation was and began stutteringthrough an excuse.

“n-nah dude, you’ve got it wrong. I was j-just helping him. Hehad too much to drink and…” Lucas scoffed rolling his eyes and grabbing Dylan bythe collar, cutting off his spiel,

“Where. Is. he?”

“Upstairs, first room on the right,” he choked out just as Stevewas pulling Lucas off him,

“Dude you don’t wanna get done for assault, go get him. I’lldeal with this shithead,” he said, shooing him upstairs. Lucas heart was in histhroat as he ran up and to the room Dylan had said, he bit his lip when he sawDustin, passed out on the bed. He could almost pretend he was asleep form thisfar away, but upon approaching him he could see the faint tear tracks on hischeeks. His heart was in his throat as he approached the bed.

“Hey Dusty,” He said, gently shaking him, “Can you hear me,love?” Dustin groaned on the bed, his eyelids flickered, and his fingerstwitched. Lucas took his hand tightly, feeling his eyes tear up, “C’mon baby,wake up please,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his knuckles with his thumb. Allhe got in reply was another groan. He ripped of the blanket, cringing when hesaw his boyfriend was just in his underwear,

“Shit, Dust, where are your clothes?” he asked quietly,looking around the room. He grabbed a dressing gown, wrapping Dustin in it andpicking him up. On his way out, he noticed Dustin’s jeans on the floor, andgrabbed them as well.

“Steve can I have your keys?” he asked as they walked by theliving room.

“Fuck” Steve uttered when he turned around and saw Dustin inLucas’ arms, “Of course,” he threw him the keys and all Lucas could think as hemade his way back to the car was that he let his happen.

“Never again,” he whispered, kissing Dustin’s forehead, “Neveragain,”

lmao sorry for the shitty ending

send me a word (or phrase) and an IT ship and I’ll write u a drabble//headcanon for it :)

#lmao god this ending fucking sucks #may come back to this #who knows #liv writes #henclair #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #i do quite liek this pairing #tho i dont write for ST much #sorry if this sucks ass lmao #im so shit at writing now wtf is my prob #anyway enjoy lovelies #stanger things #henclair fic

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18tpaz · 7 years

Text

Scoundrel's Luck

A teeny tiny donation for @damereyevents au theme/season/month lol.

It's really short so don't expect much.

Summary: Rey seems to have a bad day...

“For kriff’s sake, Ben must've crushed my collar bone or something!” Rey cursed, feeling her right shoulder go immobile after that sparring session with her older brother. Luke, her coach and uncle, was attending a conference so Ben temporarily took over leadership. Since then, it's been a truckload of drills meant for Olympians instead of the collegiate amateurs they actually were.

“You better take it to the clinic,” Finn shrugged, preparing for his turn in the fighting ring, “I'll gladly avenge you.”

“Yeah, drag my worthless brother to hell,” Rey replied in a grumble as she headed off to the infirmary.

And if Rey hadn't run out of her scoundrel's luck yet, she was informed that the nurse was unavailable for the rest of the day. After some added sarcastic grumbling, she decided to help herself to a few painkillers kept in an upper drawer.

“Excuse me, am I catching a thief or what?” Poe Dameron appeared, leaning comfortably against the doorway with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

“If I don't get even just one tablet I swear I will have my arm chopped off!” Rey whined.

Poe flashed a empathic smile and sat down beside her, “I'm taking over the clinic today, so how can I help the best fist fighter on campus?”

Rey frowned slightly, remembering that Poe used to be the top dog in the fighting ring until Ben ended his career all too swiftly. Since then, Poe diverted his time to various academic pursuits such as apprenticing under her mom, becoming one of Rey’s dreamy professors...and …. maybe she should suck it up and stop staring at him like a lost pup. Rey had a reputation to keep.

But well, if there was someone who would understand her pain, it would probably be Poe. Finn did say that he was a good listener.

“Ben murdered my shoulder...or some nearby joint. I swear he's just being an ugly womp rat because I ate the last piece of bacon this morning,” Rey began lamenting, “I swear to God that man has no chill!”

Poe chuckled along as he listened while gently handling Rey’s upper arm. She winced when he raised it above her head and sighed when he allowed the limb to relax. A quick noninvasive scan ensued while Rey continued listing her brother’s litany of sins. And for kriff’s sake Rey can’t keep her mind from feeling how soft Poe’s hands actually were, despite his past nitty gritty athletic career. She found his dexterity to be a very nice asset...and if she stopped yapping about her loathsome brother she might actually still have some dexterity left in her conversational skills!

“Well, you got to be a little more considerate towards Ben. He just wants to be the best and all,” Poe commented, “I kind of knew that feeling too until your mom became one of my mentors. Told me that the only way I’d come through was if I had a more level-headed mind.”

“And look at you, being groomed as mom’s heir apparent on the teacher's desk,” Rey teased. If there was someone who knew how to handle all sorts of people, it was her legendary mother. And obviously, it wasn't her mother's fault that Ben didn't like to listen to his parents...or to any decent advice for that matter. She thought at times that Poe was a better son to Leia than Ben actually was. What if she and a filial guy like Poe hook—

Poe smiled sheepishly and shook his head, “I don't know…” he continued working on Rey's arm, adding a medicated patch and wrapping it up properly with kinesiotapes and bandage. Rey decided to clam up and just enjoy the thoughtful treatment from Mr. Dameron while it lasted.

“Anyway, your shoulder is nothing to worry about. It's just a little muscle tear on the rotator cuff. Some ice, rest, meds, and it’ll heal on its own,” Poe advised, but didn't stop fussing on Rey's arm. Rey hoped it wouldn't stop soon either.

Some eye contact happened before Poe cleared his throat, letting go of the injured limb and handing her a few anti-inflammatory tablets neatly packed in a paper bag, “Well… you're welcome to visit anytime. Um, I mean, well...I owe your mom a lot and it's the least I can do to take care of you or uhh...”

“Thanks Poe,” she interrupted slyly.

And what did her dad say again about these sort of games?

Ah yes. You gotta shoot first if you wanna win big.

So she quickly kissed Poe on the cheek before walking out like nothing happened.

Scoundrel's luck runs strong in her family, after all.

#damereyevents #damereyaumonth #damerey #au #also some rey solo in there lol sorry2x

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seanshumblehome · 7 years

Text

Randy Cunningham in:Andrew’s Redemption (Part 6).

It was ten o’clock in the morning at the Cunningham household and Howard sat on Randy’s couch with his arms crossed and a annoyed look on his face while Randy prepared himself to go out on an early ninja patrol.

Howard:Ugh why do I have to babysit him? Howard asked slightly annoyed.

Randy:Because I have to go out on patrol and Theresa’s hanging out with Debbie and Heidi. Randy replied.

Randy then opened his bedroom window and prepared himself to leap through it when he suddenly felt a strong tug on his scarf prompting him to turn around to see that Howard was holding his scarf.

Howard:Well what the juice are we suppose to do without you and Fowler? Howard once again asked.

Randy:I don’t know take him to breakfast, the gamehole, the park, whatever just make sure to get him out of the house, it’ll help socialize him. Randy hastily replied.

Howard then realised Randy’s ninja scarf allowing him to leave his household and go on his patrol.Howard let out an annoyed and aggravated sigh then proceeded to make his way down to the living room where Andrew and Mrs.Cunningham currently where.Upon entering the living room Howard approached Andrew prompting him to set down the book he was reading and turn his attention to Howard.

Andrew:So what are we going to do today? Andrew asked as he got up from the couch.

Howard:Well Cunningham’s out dealing with ninja business and Fowler’s hanging out with the bane of my existence so we’re pretty much on our own. Howard replied.

Andrew:Will this be a problem? Andrew once again asked.

Howard:No, its just that having Cunningham or Fowler here would’ve made things more easier. Howard stated.

Andrew:hmm yes this does seem unfortunate but no matter we will just have to go on with the rest of our day without them. Andrew said.

Howard:Yeah I guess so, but anyway we’ve standed here yapping for long enough so come on lets get outta here and go get some breakfast. Howard said as he approached the front door and opened it.

Howard then walked outside with Andrew quickly following behind.

“A few minutes later.”

after a short bus ride later Andrew and Howard now sat at a table in a breakfast diner waiting for the waitress to bring them their food.As they waited Andrew couldn’t help but feel as though he was being watched so he looked up from the table and noticed that in the far right corner of the diner a boy (somewhere around his age) was sat at a table with his mother looking straight at him. Upon realizing that he had been noticed the boy looked down at the table his cheeks as red as the ninja scarf.The mother of the boy then turned and looked at Andrew and smiled to which Andrew recipocated with a reluctant wave. The mother of the teen then turned back to face her son and spoke to him. Suddenly the boys face turned a bright red and Andrew watched as he slammed his head down on the table in embarrassment.

Howard:Yo dude what you lookin at? Howard asked after looking up from his phone.

Andrew:The family in the far right corner. Andrew answered still looking at the mother and her son.

Howard turned and looked at the mother and her son who were now silently arguing with each other.

Howard:You wanna go talk to ‘em? Howard asked looking back at Andrew.

Andrew gave no response as he simply got up from the table they were seated at and began to walk towards the mother and her son.

Howard:Remember not to say anything to revealing. Howard said as Andrew walked away from the table.

Andrew nodded then continued to make his way towards the mother and sons table.As Andrew got closer to their table the mother and her son quickly hushed themselves.Andrew stopped in front of their table then looked down at the boy whose face was still bright red.

Andrew:Hello, earlier I noticed that you were starring at me and I’d like to know if I my sit here and speak with you? Andrew asked.

The boy looked at his mother with a questioning look to which she responded with a wink and a smile.

Boy:Um uh y-yeah sure I guess. The boy nervously responded.

Andrew nodded then proceeded to take a seat next to the boys smiling mother.

Andrew:My name is Andrew Akiyama, might I be able to get your names? Andrew politely asked.

Damion:Uh Damion, my names Damion Maines. Damion hesitantly responded.

Laura:And I am his mother, laura Maines. Mrs.Maines politely answered.

Andrew:Well it’s a pleasure to meet you both. Andrew commented.

Meanwhile with Howard.

Howard sat watching as Andrew conversed with Daimon and Mrs.Laura Maines hoping that Andrew didn’t end up saying something that would prompt the Maines to evacuate the diner.After several minutes Andrew returned to the table looking rather cheerful.

Howard:So uh how’d it go? Howard asked nervously.

Andrew:It went very good, the boy Damion even gave me his phone number. Andrew answered cheerfully.

Howard:Wow really, dude do you know what that means?! Howard exclaimed.

Andrew:No. Andrew said with a raised eyebrow.

Howard:It means that you made a friend bro! Howard cheerfully exclaimed.

Andrew:Hey yeah you’re right I did make a freind. Andrew realized.

Howard:Dude I can’t wait to wipe this right in Cunningham and Fowler’s face. Howard smugly thought to himself.

Andrew:Anyway sorry for keeping you waiting. Andrew apologized.

Howard:Ah it’s cool dude. Howard said accepting Andrew’s apology.

Suddenly the waitress approached Andrew and Howard’s table holding two plates in her hands.

Waitress:here’s your food sugars, sorry to have kept you waitin. The waitress said as she placed the plates down on the table.

“A few minutes later.”

After they had finished eating their food Andrew and Howard paid for their breakfast then left the diner and returned back home to the Cunningham household were upon Andrew proceeded to sit down on the living room couch and continue to read his book while Howard simply sat down next to him and proceeded to watch television.

To be Continued in (Part 7). God this took waaaaaay to damn long to finish.

#rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #randy cunningham #theresa fowler #howard weinerman #rc9gn oc

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