#everyones mostly the same but just a little more normal i guess. jane can still run for president but maybe she loses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either…

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon…

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash.

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops.

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

1K notes · View notes

my-emotional-self · 3 years

Text

Toxic Love Chapter 4

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

The three of you gathered around the kitchen island and ate the pizza. Well, more like Steve and Bucky inhaled a whole pizza each while you ate two slices. The pizza was delicious, probably the best you’d ever had and your stomach was grateful for the yumminess.

“Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself Y/N?” Bucky asked as he licked the grease off his lips.

“What do you want to know?” you replied.

“Let’s start with your family and where you grew up.”

You shrugged as you wiped your fingers with a napkin. “There isn’t really much to say. I grew up in a small town in the Midwest. Both my parents died when I was a teenager. I never knew my grandparents and I was an only child, same with my parents, so I don’t have any other family. I moved here when I was 20,” you stated honestly. Well, mostly at least. Yes, it was true both of your parents died, but how they died was tragic. They both committed suicide. First your mother, then your father one year later. As far back as you could research, mental health issues unfortunately ran in your family and that was including you. But you weren’t ready to open up that old wound yet. You were on medication to help it and that was that. Luckily the dosing you were on worked well and you could only hope you wouldn’t need to adjust your medications anytime soon.

“We know how you feel doll. Obviously all of our family is gone too. But we can make a new family with the three of us,” Bucky stated as he wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders. You liked the sound of that. The three of you becoming your own family. It sounded nice.

You gave Bucky a wide smile, mirroring his. “What have your past relationships looked like?” Steve announced from the other side of you.

This was something you had been debating on bringing up. If you weren’t going to tell them about your mental health issues just yet, you didn’t want to lie and be dishonest about John as well. Taking a deep breath, you held it in for five seconds before releasing it. “I’ve only been in one relationship before. His name was John, John Smith. He’s in prison right now.”

From the corner of your eye you could see Steve clench his fist; his knuckles cracking in the process. “What happened?” he growled out.

“He…he umm. Well, he hit me,” you said, almost as quiet as a mouse but you knew both men had super hearing and they damn well heard you.

Steve slammed his fist on the granite countertop making you flinch.

“Steve!” Bucky barked at him in anger. “You’re not making this situation any better right now. Calm the fuck down and let her talk.” Bucky soothed his arm up and down your back. “Go ahead doll. We’re listening.”

Nodding, you began to speak again. “Things were great in the beginning. He seemed like everything I could have ever asked for in a man. I didn’t know if or when I would ever meet the two of you so I decided to live my life and date him. The first six months were a whirlwind of romance. He was the most charming man I had ever met. But then things took a turn when I moved in with him. I was ready to have sex yet, but he was sick of waiting. That first night I moved in, he…he raped me.”

This time you saw Bucky’s right hand clench on the table in front of you while Steve knocked his chair over as he stood up, pacing the kitchen. “Go on doll,” Bucky urged, trying to keep the anger out of his voice as best he could for you.

“That was just the first time. He umm, he did it again for weeks. I wanted to leave, I really did. But he was rich and he had security around the house. I knew I couldn’t just up and leave. Finally, when he demanded I quit my job, I stood up to him and told him no. That was the first time he hit me. That continued for months. I was ready to give up on myself.”

“What happened next huh? How did he end up in prison?” Steve demanded as he leaned over the counter, staring at you with those piercing eyes.

“I got lucky,” you replied. “We were out shopping one day. He felt bad for the wrist he broke the night before so he took me shopping. One of the sales ladies escorted me into a fitting room and I slipped her a note letting her know what was going on. I stayed in the fitting room for as long as possible. And then I heard them. The police. The sales lady called the police for me and they took him away. He’s been locked up ever since.”

Closing your eyes, you let the tears slip down your cheek. “You were so brave,” Bucky cooed as you felt his lips on the top of your head.

“Look at me Y/N,” Steve demanded yet again and that deep feeling to please him was happening again. You snapped your head up and looked directly into his eyes. “That will never happen in this relationship. Do you understand me?” You simply nodded. “Bucky and I would never hurt you like that. Ever. You have our word.” As soon as he finished talking, he stormed out of the kitchen and down the hallway to where you only assumed was his room.

“Just give him a minute to cool off sweetheart,” Bucky spoke in your ear. “Stevie gets pent up sometimes and he has a lot on his plate. He may seem like it, but he’s not mad at you. I promise.”

You collapsed into Bucky’s chest and softy sobbed. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you were relieved to have told them about John. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that doll. That will never happen to you again. We won’t let anything like that happen.”

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes later when Steve emerged from his room. “How about we go down and show you the communal kitchen and living room. Give you a little tour. What do you say?”

A small smile broke across your face. “I’d like that very much.”

As the elevators opened to the communal floor, you jaw dropped. If you thought Steve and Bucky’s apartment was big, this was ten times the size. Not only were there ample more couches, the television was bigger and there was a large dining table big enough to sit at least twenty people.

“Holy crap,” you exclaimed in awe.

“Yeah, Tony likes to go big if you couldn’t already tell,” Steve joked.

“You think?” you quipped back, earning a smirk from Steve.

The entire space was void of anyone except the three of you as Steve pulled you further into the living room. He explained that the group tries to do a movie night at least once a week. “To make things as fair as possible, Tony pulls a name out of a hat to see who gets to pick the movie that night,” Bucky said.

“Yeah but it doesn’t really work. There is still always complaining and bitching from everyone else. Mainly Clint,” Steve chimed in.

It made you giggle, genuinely giggle and it felt good. That hadn’t happened in quite some time.

Steve and Bucky guided you towards the hallway, explaining that these were the ‘hobby rooms’ of everyone and their soulmates. Steve opened the door to the one at the end of the all on right left side.

“This will be your room. You can make it anything you want. But I’m going to guess this will be your game room where you work.”

“That would be correct,” you answered as you turned on the light. The room was very decent sized and you would have no problem fitting all of your gamer stuff in here. Hell, there would be a lot of room left over and you were quickly trying to think what else you could fit in here.

“C’mon. Let’s go back to our floor and we can show you your room up there.”

On the elevator ride back to their apartment, Steve and Bucky explained who all lived in the tower and who their soulmates were. Tony and Pepper were soulmates together, along with Bruce. Bruce was best friends with Tony and more of a brother figure to Pepper. Then there was Natasha, Clint and Darcy Lewis and they were all in an intimate relationship together. Lastly, there was Thor and Jane but they didn’t stay in the tower too much as they spent most of their time on Asgard.

Steve stopped in front of your door. It was across the hall from Bucky’s and right next door to Steve’s.

“Go ahead and open it,” Steve said with a smile. “Just place your hand over the screen.”

Taking a deep breath, you did as he said and placed your hand, palm down, on the digital screen where there would normally have been a doorknob. With a soft click, the door opened for you and you walked into your new place. It was nothing like what you were thinking. You were honestly just guessing it would be a bedroom, but no, this was an entire apartment.

Straight ahead was a decent sized kitchen. There was dark cherry wood cabinet with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. To the left is what you would assume would be the living room, however it was completely bare of any furniture. As you continued to move through the apartment you found that the bedroom was all the way in the back. It was a very nice sized master bedroom with the biggest walk in closet and on suite bathroom you had ever seen.

“What do you think?” Bucky asked as he came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s big,” you replied with a chuckle.

“I’m going to have Tony’s interior designer email you. Give him examples and ideas of what you would like and she will make it happen. Don’t worry about prices. This is Tony’s gift to you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Are you sure?”

“Yes sweetheart,” Steve replied as he slipped his hand in yours. “We want the best for you. Whatever you want this new home of yours to look like, then so be it. We will make it happen for you.”

~~~

That night as you lay in bed after spending time with Steve and Bucky, you couldn’t help but frown. Things had seemed to be going much better tonight than they did when you first met them two days ago. Now, you had to pack up your apartment and move. You weren’t really nervous about that part, hell, you were looking forward to it. But then it meant things were starting to get real. When things start to get intimate with them, would you be able to let yourself go and do that? Would things be vanilla in the bedroom? Would you be able to tell them that because the only sexual experiences you’ve ever had was being raped, that you could now only get yourself off on violent fantasies of being raped, or tied up, or choked? Fuck, what was wrong with you?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

128 notes · View notes

ransomedrogue · 3 years

Text

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

ah yes 1.6, so much attempted boundary setting, so little success... it’s mini make up scenes this time around :D

1.6

Weller had been in a bad mood all day; starting from a sleepless night at the office, before moving onto having his objectivity questioned by both Mayfair and Jane. And then there was the fact that he'd tried to compensate for getting called out by being hard on Jane, which had just made him feel shittier about everything. Even stopping the bad guys and blowing up a truck with a perfect grenade toss hadn't improved his disposition, the way it normally would of.

He knew why, of course. It had been eating at him since she said it. But Weller was loath to face what had to be done, despite being sure it was the right thing to do.

Jane was heading towards the elevator, so it was his last chance of the day to talk to her. But Kurt remained nervously irritable, not yet entirely sure he was going to go through with it.

What if she said yes, and told him he was too close? He'd have to accept it of course, though it would be like a dagger to the heart. Still, Weller knew that he had to offer, as much as he didn't want to.

He remembered back to earlier that day, when she had asked about his objectivity. It had struck him so hard, even though everyone else had already been loudly saying the same thing. Because it was Jane, of course. He had told her that he didn't want to make things any harder on her than they already were. So if he didn't want to be a liar then he had to act right then.

So Kurt forced himself to approach, pressing the elevator button and trying to push back the anxiety in his gut. For a moment he paused and considered chickening out, but in the end his personal honour code demanded that he follow through with it.

"Do you want a new lead agent?" he asked, blurting the question out quickly so it didn't get jammed up in his throat.

His heart froze as Jane gave him a confused look.

"What?"

"On your case," he explained.

"Back in the surveillance van you said… that I wasn't objective."

Weller pushed himself to continue, even though he didn't really want to say the next words.

"So I can step down," he said, unable to control the little shake in his voice.

"And Mayfair can assign you a new lead agent."

He felt like his life was hanging on her reply, even though that was very overdramatic. Yet, one little word right then could take her out of his life again, possibly forever.

When Jane eventually affirmed what he believed – that he was exactly the right man for the job, because of his dedication to her case – Weller's shoulders relaxed for the first time that day. He was sure no other agent would do better and, as long as she felt that way too, it didn't matter what anyone else thought.

Kurt was so relieved that he pushed it too far again right away; offering to drive Jane home even though her detail was there to do exactly that. He tried to tell himself he wasn't disappointed when she pulled back and reminded him of the line they were trying to set.

But even that, the way she bit her lip and her shy 'better not'. It killed him.

She was an asset and the girl he'd spent his life trying to find. She had come to him with his name tattooed on her back and yet she wasn't his. It wouldn't be appropriate to act on the feelings she evoked in him, no matter how strongly he felt the connection between them, how much she blew his mind.

He'd been an ass to her all day, and still she hadn't jumped at the chance to get rid of him.

The elevator ride was quiet at first. Weller figured that Jane had already ended the conversation by rejecting his offer of a ride home, yet he still liked just being in the same space as her. It was pathetic, he knew. But true.

About halfway through the ride, Jane turned to him, wearing a serious expression.

"I really am sorry. I definitely don't want anyone else."

How was he supposed to take that?

Weller told his heart to settle down and hoped to hell that his brain would come up with something appropriate to say.

"I'm sorry too, Jane," he spat out, still trying to think though the fluttering in his chest.

"I shouldn't have been so hard on you today. None of that was your fault."

She offered him a hopeful smile that lit the green tint in her eyes, just as the elevator arrived at its destination.

"Thanks," she replied.

"And I meant it about coming for a drink sometime."

Jane ducked her head, her expression turning timid again.

"I don't know," she murmured, as they stepped out onto the parking level.

"It might feel awkward to start. But once Patterson gets going on the shots, she'll make sure you're having a good time."

Her face brightened a little at his words and Kurt struggled to keep his hands to himself, despite having spent an entire day trying to establish a more solid professional boundary.

"Maybe. Thanks for the offer." Jane said, flashing him one more smile before getting into the SUV with her detail.

Weller stood there as the vehicle drove away, his heart still in the same turmoil it had been in all day. It seemed like everyone was harping on him to pull back from her but he wasn't even sure it was possible. His usual rock solid emotional walls had come crashing down and he couldn't rebuild them with the onslaught of her presence.

He had told her that he was working on being objective. He just hadn't mentioned that he already knew he was destined to fail.

###

It was another quiet night alone, with only a head full of questions to keep her company.

Jane sat on the couch with the TV on but turned down so low that it was inaudible. She wondered how Ana was doing, alone in her apartment, with her matching security detail out front.

Her own life had been so action packed during the days and her first few nights had been so full of turmoil and self-questioning that Jane had only recently begun to register her loneliness. It had been a slow realization that everyone else had partners and friends and a life outside of work. Whereas she had just her doubts to keep her company.

Jane briefly wondered what it would be like to have a normal life; the freedom to just head out the door and meet a friend. Even the thought of having real friends seemed like a stretch when she was trying to connect with teenaged hackers.

She cringed a bit thinking about being told off by Weller twice for the same thing, then pushing him away after the truth had slipped out about her loneliness. He'd even asked if she wanted him off the case, which had made her stomach drop out from under her. The thought of losing Weller when she had nothing else to hold onto was terrifying and not at all what she wanted, despite battling with him for most of the day.

He had never been objective about her and most of her really liked that. Despite the pressure she sometimes felt because of it, or the way he'd treated her that day. Weller was possibly the only person on the planet that cared about her, even if their relationship was intense and undefinable.

Jane sighed, realizing that her head was stuck on Kurt again. She looked at the TV for a minute, trying to turn her thoughts in a different direction. She'd love to be able to just go out for a walk on her own, without a team of FBI agents following her. But that was a thought for another day, not something helpful to entertain at the moment.

Her phone rang just then, jolting her out of her head. Jane reached for it in surprise and saw that it was Weller, so she figured that something case related had occurred.

"Hi," she said, picking up the call. "Did something happen?"

"No," Weller replied. "Sorry I didn't mean to worry you. I was just out walking and I thought about what you said earlier."

"About being alone."

He sounded… off. Which made her chest constrict as he paused and waited for her to respond.

Jane wanted to ask if he was okay but didn't know what she would do if he wasn't. In the end she was quiet for too long and Weller must have gotten anxious because he started to apologize again.

"Sorry, right. You need some space. I shouldn't have called," he mumbled.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It was the same thing he'd said to her the previous night, after she'd held his hand to her heart and told him that he was her starting point. Then tomorrow had come and he'd been cold to her all day. She didn't want that to happen again.

"No, wait. Don't hang up," Jane replied hurriedly.

"Why are you out walking at this time?"

Weller exhaled audibly.

"It's a long story," he said. "I needed some air."

"Which is what made me think, you can't even go out and get a breath on your own."

Part of her was pissed off, that he was only just understanding that even after she spelled it out for him earlier. But it was nice to be talking to Kurt and she didn't want to make more distance between them. So Jane took a tone somewhere in the middle, more teasing than upset.

"Oh, so you're just figuring that out now," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

"Yeah," Weller sighed. "I guess I haven't been seeing everything you're going through, outside of the cases."

Jane wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want his sympathy and yet it did feel good, for her hurts to be acknowledged.

"Anyways, I was walking and I thought maybe you wanted to talk. Not about the case. But so you don't feel so alone."

It was a sweet gesture, if possibly somewhere past the boundary lines they'd been trying to set. But no one else was going to call to talk to her, and she definitely didn't mind being on the phone with Kurt.

"Yeah. I'd like that," Jane said.

"So… what do people talk about on the phone anyways?"

Weller laughed, and she could hear him relax at her question.

"Honestly, I don't talk on the phone much. Especially now with Sarah and Sawyer living at my place. Back when we did call, it was mostly just catching up on what's happened in our lives."

"Well. You're pretty caught up in everything that I know about my life," Jane replied.

"So, it's going to have to be up to you. Tell me what you like to do when you're not working."

She could feel Weller frowning at the idea of not working, but then he laughed again, a little shyly this time. It was a comforting sound, and Jane felt herself smiling in response as Kurt ummed and uhhed a few times before he re-found his voice.

Then, hesitantly at first, Weller started telling her about hot summer evenings at the ballpark, drinking beer and cheering on his team. Which quickly turned into a full fledged conversation about baseball in general and ending up blowing Jane's mind when she was told how much money professional players could make for being good at hitting a ball with a bat.

She asked about his own history as a ballplayer then, which drew a few more embarrassed chuckles from Weller before he opened up about falling in love with the sport as a boy by spending long nights at the local ball field, throwing pitches until his arm was dead tired.

After awhile Jane realized how easy it was to talk to Weller when things weren't loaded with expectation and tension. Despite the way things had been between them that day, it seemed strangely natural to be on the phone with him, laughing at his description of teenage Kurt's athletic prowess.

By the time he was back at his apartment, Weller had given her a full rundown of his military school sports career and Jane was a bit sleepy from being cozy on the couch and listening to Kurt rumble on about baseball. She grinned lazily as she heard Weller opening the door to his building, still telling her about strikeouts and home runs. It was as relaxed as she'd ever been, in her remembered life.

"Are you still awake? I can't believe I just bored you with baseball for so long."

Kurt's voice startled Jane out of her thoughts and back into the conversation.

"Actually, that was really nice," she said. "Thank you."

Weller laughed self-consciously, but she could still hear the smile in his voice.

"Watch out or next time I'll tell you about my failed basketball career," he joked.

"But you're right, that was nice. Thanks for putting up with me."

She heard his worry slip through in his parting words and was startled back into reality. Where he'd offered to recuse himself from the case and they were trying to draw a line between them. Talking on the phone for such a long time hadn't exactly helped that process, yet it had felt so right.

"I wouldn't want anyone else to explain baseball to me," Jane said with a little laugh.

"Goodnight Weller."

"Goodnight Jane," he replied. "See you in the morning."

Jane ended the call with a grin on her face and a warm buzz in her chest. She didn't have much, not even a life to call her own. But at least she still had Weller, despite being at odds with him all day.

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #blindspot rewatch #s1fic #i wrote this

26 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Text

Pleasant Surprise (Indruck Superhero AU)

A little fic I’ve had bouncing around my head for awhile, set in the universe of “The Thrilling Adventures of the Green Knight.” It takes place after that story, and after the events of the small fics “Aww, Rats” and “Back in Time”. You can read it as a standalone, but it does contain some spoilers for main fic.

“You know how you always say communication is important in a relationship?” Indrid drums his fingers on the arm of the couch.

Dr. Mwangi nods, the chain on her glasses glinting in the soothing lights of her office.

“I...there is something I am not sure how to communicate to Duck. I, it’s something I’ve been dishonest about. I” Indrid takes a deep breath, “I lied about the date of my birthday.”

Dr. Mwangi doesn’t so much as cock an eyebrow, much like she managed not to gasp in horror when he told her what his training regime involved when he was learning to be a villain. Indrid’s going theory is that this self-control is his therapist's super power.

“Do you want to spend part of our session today figuring out how you’d like to talk with him about this?”

Indrid fidgets with his glasses, “Yes, please.”

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

Duck comes home to one of his favorite scenes; Indrid sitting with his easel in front of the rat run. His boyfriend decided he needed to cultivate his artistic streak, so that one part of his life would not involve superheroing or villainy in any capacity. From the look of it, he’s still on the theme of inserting the rats into still-lifes of different styles.

Duck loves watching him paint, in a way at once connected to and completely different from the attraction he feels observing the other man train in the hideout or dig himself into engineering a new invention. There’s the same cleverness in his hands, the same concentration lining his face. But there’s an innocence that’s absent other places, a kind of happiness that only exists in activities untouched by his past.

“Hello, chivalrous one.” Indrid murmurs as Duck comes to drape his arms over his sweater clad shoulders.

“Hey sugar. I like the new paintin’--is that Dr. Harris Bonkers?”

“Indeed.” Indrid turns his head, his grin as bright as the streetlights flickering to life outside, “The fuzzy medical practitioner in the style of Seurat. I foresee Aubrey liking it as a Christmas gift, and I wanted to do it while the inspiration was still fresh.”

“Bet she’ll get a kick outta it.” Duck kisses the top of his head, then starts removing his work clothes, “you had dinner? Thought I might reheat some pizza.”

“I ordered us dinner, it should arrive within ten to fifteen minutes, depending on whether this is the broken stoplight timeline.” Indrid sets his brushes aside, stands so he can follow Duck down the hall to the bedroom.

“Thanks for doin’ that.”

“There is, ah, something I wish to discuss before it arrives.”

Duck turns and his heart twinges. Back when Indrid was his nemesis, Duck learned to read his emotions, a skill that eluded everyone else. He can tell when Indrid is nervous and, most often, when Indrid is nervous and doing everything he can to hide it.

“What’s on your mind?” He takes a soft step towards the other man, who goes very still as he summons his next words.

“Do you remember what I told you about my birthday?”

“That it was in the spring and you’d let me know when we were gettin close to it. Wait, fuck, you never did, not this year or last year. Then again, last year was when the White Star boys kept tryin to fuck everythin up, think a lot of stuff got missed. Do you, uh, wanna do a birthday observed or somethin? Could even get a little goofy and do a half-birthday.”

Indrid shakes his head vehemently, “No. That is not it. I, I ah, I lied. My birthday is not in spring. And before you ask ‘when is it,’ the answer is I have no idea. We never celebrated birthdays. I only know my age because my father unleashed my brother and myself upon the world some time after I, or rather we, turned eighteen.” Indrid tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweater, “that is all I wish to say.”

It would be easy to giggle at his serious tone.

Duck pulls Indrid into a hug, “Thanks for tellin me. Do you want help tryin to work out when it really is?”

“I...I do not know. I was simply tired of such a small lie weighing me down.”

“Okay. You wanna cuddle until dinner?”

“Of cour--oh damn it all.” Indrid steps back, pulling off his sweater, “Baron Thorne is going to try and hold an entire dormitory of students hostage in forty-five minutes.”

“More than a two hero job?”

Indrid tips his head back, then replies, “it’ll go best with for. I shall alert Barclay and Aubrey.”

“Roger. I’ll get the car.”

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

Duck’s researching potential plants for Dani to modify into non-lethal weapons when the secure elevator dings open and Agent Stern hurries out, looking a kind of excited he hasn’t seen since Barclay’s parents landed their ship to meet their son’s new boyfriend.

“Gettin the feelin you got good news for me.”

“I do.” Joe pulls out his datapad, “I went through the files we confiscated from Abbadon to find the one on Indrid. It did indeed have his birth date, and you are not going to believe what it is.”

Duck looks at the little boxes of letters and numbers beneath the photo of a much younger Indrid with a much crueler smile.

“No fuckin way.”

“I know right?” Joe grins, “ I think he’ll get a kick out of that.”

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

“My birthday is on Halloween?”

“Yeah!” Duck looks so happy that for a moment the emotion carries Indrid as well.

“That is rather fitting. It’s always been my favorite holiday.” He can see it now; little orange lights, a black tablecloth, some cake.

“And it’s three weeks away, so we still got time to plan somethin to mark the day. I was thinkin we could have it Friday, since Halloween is a Saturday and I know at least Barclay and Dani got things they do every Halloween. How’s that sound?”

He isn’t sure. Something circles up from the deep, animal part of his mind, but he can’t name it and so does his best to ignore it.

“It sounds wonderful.”

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

Indrid cannot escape. Everywhere he turns there are birthdays; on the T.V, in the restaurants he and Duck go to, on cards and balloons when he’s getting groceries

It’s your big day!

“You don’t turn thirteen everyday”

To my son, on his eighteenth birthday

“To my brother, my favorite partner in crime”

“This week on ‘My Neighbor’s a Werewolf,’ Jamie throws Max a surprise party, and gets a big surprise of his own.”

When that one flickers across the screen, Indrid clicks the T.V off with a little hiss. He’s tense, feels like the embodiment of the moment a knife-tip meets skin; resistance and resignation in the instant before it all comes pouring out.

“You got a cake preference?” Duck rests his hand on the couch near Indrid’s shoulder, tone light as he continues, “know you like really sweet stuff, I could get mom’s hummingbird cake recipe from Jane-”

“Whatever you think best.” Indrid flexes and coils his fingers.

“‘Drid, it’s your party, you get to mark the occasion however you want.

“And what if I do not wish to mark it at all?”

“Uh…” Duck clears his throat, “uh, that’s fine too.”

Indrid turns his head to see the expression he knew would be there.

“That upsets you.”

“N-uh, fuck, I uh, it don’t uh-”

“Duck, please do me the courtesy of not drawing out the lie.”

Ducks shoulders sag, “Guess I’m a little disappointed. I, uh, I was havin fun plannin it with you. Thought I could make up for all the times you didn’t have one.”

“Well, you can’t.” Indrid snaps, stands more dramatically than he means to. He just wants this to be over, wants to stop seeing the memories he thought he’d properly laid to rest, “you cannot make up for what I saw, what was done to me, what I did.”

“I-”

Indrid holds up his hand, “I know you see it as your job to remove all traces of my tragic past that you can.”

“Hold the fuck on.” Duck shakes his head, “Is that what you think I’m doin? ‘Drid, it’s just a party. If you don’t want it you don’t want it, but don’t fuckin pretend this is some indicator of us as a pair.”

“Oh but it is.” Indrid feels his lips curl into an old smile, “you get to play the nice, normal hero making everything better, while all I am is someone to pity, broken long before you ever met me!”

Duck goes still, and in his visions he sees the rats finishing skittering to the far side of Ratopia. It’s at this moment he realizes he’s been yelling.

“I…I am going to bed. Goodnight.” He hurries down the hall, only bothering to change his pants before crawling under the covers. In most futures, Duck follows him and demands they finish their argument, leading to a far larger fight. But the hero doesn’t come. This gives Indrid time to get his breathing and heart rate back to normal, to try and work out why the thought of his loved ones gathering to celebrate his birth makes him want to disappear into the night.

He’s not quite asleep when Duck comes in. He’s not quite ready to apologize. As he’s contemplating his options, his boyfriend slips under the sheet and lays in such a way that his right hand is inches from Indrid’s own.

Without opening his eyes, Indrid slides his fingers across Duck’s palm. Duck shifts to interlink their fingers, and closes his hand.

Indrid wakes up five hours later in two discrete stages. The first is coming out of the nightmare, of his body registering the need to move, to hide, before his brain is fully back to the present. The second is waking up enough to wonder why he always hides in the closet after these dreams; he didn’t have a closet growing up.

He creeps into the living room, hoping he hasn’t woken Duck. He has woken Chicken, who decides it’s close enough to her breakfast time to yowl at him until he feeds her. While she crunches her cat food, he opens one of the doors to Ratopia. The mischief is mostly asleep, but at the sound Void rouses from his spot atop Mallard and scurries over to Indrid’s hands.

“You forgive so easily.” Indrid murmurs, cupping him in one hand and closing the cage with the other, “or perhaps you just forget with much greater skill than I.”

He knows when Duck is behind him. Without turning, he sets Void on his shoulder and says, “I think I know why I have been so unpleasant tonight. I...I have only ever marked two changes in age; being old enough to face the trials of my order and being sent out to cut down those who dared oppose us. My ‘birthday’ is a harbinger of suffering and death. And I, I know that is not the real truth, but it is the one my body believes, the one my mind has been bracing for without me fully understanding that’s what it is doing. I did not mean to take that fear out on you.”

“‘Drid” Duck’s voice is scratchy with sleep, but when Indrid turns his eyes are alert, “I’m so fuckin sorry. It, uh, it didn’t occur to me that your birthday would be wrapped up so tightly with the shit you went through as a kid. I never meant to push you into somethin you didn’t want.”

“But I do want it!” Indrid shoves his hands into his hair, “I want to have dinner with our friends, to get gifts, to enjoy a thing that millions of people partake in every day. And I am so, so very angry that I cannot, that instead I am dealing with all of this.” He gestures vaguely to himself, then looks at Duck, his body registering safe as the hero joins him by the rat run. When Duck opens his arms, Indrid nestles into them without hesitation.

“Whatever you decide on, that’s what we’ll do.”

Indrid hums, snickers when Void clambers onto Duck to tickle his cheek with his whiskers. After the shadows of the past recede in the warmth of Duck’s embrace, Indrid whispers, “I would like to have the party. I would like to help you plan it. But I...I would like a few of the details to still be surprises for me. It might be nice for my birthday to bring me a pleasant one for once.”

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

“Oooh, this looks so cool!” Aubrey sets a gift on the table as she admires the mothman string lights, banners, and balloons, “dang, Duck, didn’t know you had a decorator streak.”

“Don’t get a chance to flex it much. And it’s kinda easy when the theme is so specific.��

“I’m trying to compliment you, doofus.” Aubrey playfully whacks his arm, then squeals, “honey, look, rats in hats!”

“Awww” Dani joins her to regard the mischief in their tiny party hats (only Mallard is still wearing his, the others in various states of tossing them about), “Indrid, did you make these?”

“Indeed, though Barclay made these.” He slides the enclosure open and sets five rat-sized cupcakes on the floor, “which is wonderful, because I did not want them to feel left out. They’re getting them earlier than the rest of us because Barclay is looking for ways to keep me out of the kitchen.”

“It’s your birthday, that means letting someone else cook!” Barclay calls from the kitchen.

“But I modified the blender and the mixer to be self-operating!”

“Wait, what?” Is all they hear before Barclay is drowned out by whirring.

“Should we help him?” Dani says through their laughter.

“He’s a professional, he’ll be fine.” Joseph steps from the kitchen, his casual wear of jeans and a Loch Ness Monster dress shirt still somewhat jarring to the former villain who only ever saw him in suits, “Aubrey, Dani, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yes please. Okay doctor, time to play.” Aubrey opens the special hatch in Ratopia and deposits the rabbit, who settles in to be groomed by his smaller friends.

Dinner is fancy macaroni and cheese and fruit salad, Indrid’s favorites. As Ned regales the table with his latest misadventures in fixing up his new van (“I was unaware an owl could nest in a seat cushion”) Indrid glances at the entryway.

“Everythin okay?” Duck whispers.

“Yes. I, ah, I simply did not expect so many gifts. I know it’s customary to receive them but I thought you got one or two. Not that everyone brought them.”

“You wanna open them?”

Indrid nods, grinning, “very much so.”

He takes care not to peek at the futures when unwrapping them, wanting to preserve the excitement as long as possible. Aubrey gives him a six pound bag of Lucky Charm marshmallows, Dani sneaks out to the car and returns with a potted plant (“I modified it so that the blossoms will be extra attractive to moths”). Ned gifts him a signed, limited run poster from Red Dust on His Soul, Joseph and Barclay a stack of new romance novels (“I think you’ll like Agent X, it’s a mystery series but he romances quite a few characters in them”). Mama sent a package from West Virginia that contains a small, wooden duck she carved herself and made especially smooth so it would be soothing to rub). And Lydia Little, AKA Sylvia Cold, presents him with a mug declaring him “Favorite Brother.”

Duck’s present is the last one he opens. Waiting for him in the rectangular box is a white shirt with “World’s Greatest Rat Dad” on the front. The back is covered in squiggle-scratches of five different colors, which Duck explains are signatures from the mischief made in rat-safe fabric paint.

“It’s perfect.” Indrid sighs, kisses his boyfriend and then beams at his friends, “it is time for cake.”

They dim the lights, sing to him as Barclay emerges from the kitchen with a massive, mothman shaped cake with lots of candles. To his delight and surprise, the inside is layers of pink and yellow, flavored with strawberry and vanilla. He eats far more than is perhaps wise, but it is his birthday and it is his understanding that such things are allowed.

His guests linger for a few hours more, Aubrey and Dani the last to leave with a reminder to put the plant on the balcony. Indrid waves goodbye, closes the door and arms the security to full. He turns back into the house, sees the cards and gifts his friends put so much thought into locating for him, the stray dishes and half-empty glasses that signify they were here. For him. Because they wanted to be, because they care about him.

“‘Drid? You want any more cake before I put it aw--oh fuck, sugar, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing” he sniffles, grins, “these are tears of happiness. I, ah, I hurried us into cake because I felt them upon me when I opened the gifts. It will take some time yet for me to be willing to show such feelings around our friends.” He wipes his eyes, “thank you, my love, for arranging this.”

“Any time, darlin.”

He smiles, “Have I mentioned lately that you are my hero?”

“Pretty sure you called me that this mornin. But I sure as hell don’t mind hearin it again.”

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

“What is this?” His brother scowls up from the paper plate Indrid passed to him through the complex delivery system keeping his cell from the world around it.

“Cake. Today is our birthday. Did you know that?”

“Who cares for such frivolous things, little brother?”

“Those of us who do not spend our lives steeped in the misery of others, twin brother. If you do not want it, give it back and I shall share it with one of the guards.”

Apollo looks at the cake. Then he kneels on the floor, tearing into it with his hands. He doesn’t eat it what he destroys, and after a moment Indrid grasps why.

“Did you really think I hid some device to help you escape in there?”

“Yes.” His brother is now trying to light stab the cake with his gaze.

Indrid rubs his forehead, “Perhaps some day you will learn to see things for how they are, not how you believe them to be.” He starts for the door, looks over his shoulder and says softly, “happy birthday, Apollo.”

A slam as his brother strikes the see-through front of his cell, “Get back here this instant you worthless, traitorous, coward!”

The door slides open and Indrid steps into the hall. Joseph is waiting for him, drops his eyes from the security feed to the man in front of him, “what a waste of Barclay’s cooking.”

“Agreed.”

A gentle pat on his shoulder, “You tried, that counts for a lot. Now go enjoy your night.”

“And my knight?”

“Him too.” Joseph waves goodbye, then adds, “and happy birthday!”

Indrid gets home before the city trick or treating hours begin; he’s feeling rather good, all things considered, and Halloween is so beloved by villains that the odds of his evening being interrupted by work are almost none.

Duck is on the porch lighting their Jack ‘O Lanterns, grinning brighter than all the candles and lights on the block combined when Indrid walks up the steps to join him. He sees in the futures that he’s made him a special, Halloween themed birthday dinner.

He pulls Duck into a hug, kissing the top of his head with happy sighs, thanking whatever twist of fate pushed him into the arms of the man who was, in many ways, his first-ever pleasant surprise.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #taz amnesty #superhero au

11 notes · View notes

aggresivelyfriendly · 3 years

Text

‘Tis the Damn Season- Chapter 2

Winter Wonderland

Hello loveys! Here is chapter two, a new year, a new world, a new Harry video! Thank you to @dirtystyles for fixing my tenses, which I promptly messed up by revising and adding. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Happy reading- reblogs are love!

Emma was annoyed before she even caught her flight, but she loved airports, so she got lost in watching the peculiar things people did in the there to sublimate what was probably just anxiety. She'd once watched a boys' trip, maybe a bachelor party, get on a plane and begin toasting at 5:30 am. The groom had almost bought the whole plane a round, but one of his mates had stopped him. She assumed this wasn't his first beer of the day, but maybe it was the last of the night before?

People acted different in airports.

That had been her first flight to Holland. When she went to her interview at Wageningen University and Research Center. She really needed to impress, she'd pressed her outfit more than she had ironed anything since she'd been taught to do it. This was her dream school and the climate research they did was groundbreaking and she wanted to be part of it so much that she was willing to do whatever it took. Beyond the heavy course load she could expect during the regular school years, the top students got amazing summer work or internships. She'd promised herself she would not be going home for breaks for some time. Honestly she was just fine with that. There wasn't much left for her in Holmes Chapel.

There wasn't much in Holmes Chapel at all.

She'd wanted to move from the little village the minute they'd moved there when she was eleven. Sure it was cute, picturesque and maybe something out of a Jane Austen novel, but Emma did not read much Pride and Prejudice. Though she definitely had seen Mr. Darcy come out of the pond. Honestly, she was more of a nonfiction girl, and she like investigative reporting. She'd missed London pretty much immediately and begged to go back for months. It was a time in her life she would have called the absolute worst, until it became the foundation for the best years. Emma made really good, motivated friends. Big dreams were common in little Holmes Chapel, so Emma fit right in. It may have never felt like home exactly, but she made a home of those friends.

Gemma was one of them. She had done her share of Austen reading. Reading in general, and she had the sweetest family. Her little brother Harry was so nice to their mum, though he loved nothing more than bugging Gemma. Like all little brothers. She'd heard at least, Emma was an only child.

All her parents' hopes and dreams rested right on her shoulders.

But theirs weren't nearly so weighty as her own. Even then she knew she was going to save the planet, or at the very least reduce the number of climate refugees.

Now, after two summers in Reykjavik, she was more into sustainable energy and zero waste production, but she was still trying to change the climate game.

She would really rather be going back to Iceland now. A friend had invited her to see the Northern Lights. They were most active in the winter and she'd only caught glimpses of them during her summer internships. It may have been the experience of a lifetime.

But her mother had laid on a major guilt trip. Emma hadn't been back to little Holmes Chapel in two years. She'd come home that first Christmas because she was tired, overwhelmed, still adjusting to her school schedule, and a little homesick. Her mother told her so. She'd even skipped the Twist's Christmas party, which was the shindig of the season. She'd slept right through it, and only seen Gemma at the pub later. She hadn't been up for company, but Gemma was family.

This year? After a year's absence, she'd be going. And she'd receive the hometown-hero-returns treatment. Though she was sure her reception at the airport would consist of her mum with a single sign. When she did make it to the pub, she might see a few friendly faces besides Gemma. Last time? Since she'd missed the party, she didn't have anything to contribute to the discussion. She'd just listened to everybody else rehash it. Normally, that would be fine, but she already felt removed, and had always felt a bit like a screw among nails in Holmes Chapel, so she was determined to go to the party this year. She had all kinds of plans, how many hours she'd socialize, rest, and read.

The flight was easy at least, and the train up to Manc doubly so. She liked to sleep on trains, something about the rocking, and she resumed her old habit of sleeping wrapped around her backpack.

"Welcome home, love!" Her mother shouted and Emma actually got a little misty, just like her Mum. Maybe she should try to get home more than once a year, but there's just so much she wants to accomplish. She even had a list. All the things she wanted to do before she turned thirty. It's been revised of course, she'd not unrealistic. Once the list is complete, she can have a life outside her ambitions, like a real boyfriend.

There's not much time for anything but hook-ups for the next ten years., and Emma was ok with that.

Up til now. She might need another pass at her bullet points, or to at least read her goals again when she got to the Twist's new brick beauty of a house. Harry had bought his mum a new home, one not watched as closely by his obsessive fans. They hadn't found this one yet.

Emma could see why they followed him around so, and why some people risked it all for a certain face. His face, his very famous, gorgeous face.

It was so weird that Harry wasn't just Gemma's little brother who grew up cute anymore. His music wasn't really her style, though some of the songs were catchy and Emma did like his latest album. She caught herself humming about life stories long after she heard it, and she seemed to hear his latest single playing in lots of shops and restaurants, even in Holland.

At the party, she also found herself in the same room as Harry more often than she can find an excuse for. Her eyes also seemed to find him a lot, she knew because of how many times she had to whip her head away quickly. As a tactic, that didn't work because he was always either already looking at her,or he immediately turned like he knews where she was. Maybe her gaze had weight, or she was as subtle as an axe.

When he smirked at her the tenth time their eyes lit upon each other, she choked on her wine.

What the fuck?

She'd finally got herself calmed from that little encounter. Mostly because she left the room to find a loo. The water she splashed on her face was cold and woke her up. "What are you doing, girl?" Emma asked her reflection but found that she couldn't help but smile at herself, and bite her lip. The flush on her cheeks was lovely; she could blame the wine, everyones favorite excuse.

An hour later she was pleasantly tipsy, the kind of buzz you could maintain and still wake up the next day not regretting, and she'd gone to the kitchen to grab another glass to nurse her merry state. "Be right back. We need another round!" She was calling back to Gemma when she bumped into a tall lanky body. She caught his hips with one hand and found them with just enough give to grip. "Oof!" She exclaimed before looking up to see how much damage her wine had done. Good thing she drank white, there was a growing spot ok his sweater. Wait a second! Then she coasted her head up the lovely lilac sweater toward his face. "That's my sweater." She said first off, bopping his chin.

"Um, no, mine now." Oh, his voice was adorably thick with drink too. "You give it to Gem or something?"

What was he talking about? Her eyes stayed with his and she was kinda trapped in his greens when she realized he meant the sweater. She had, right. "I'm yeah, years ago. Was my favorite and we shared it a lot. I decided she should have it before I moved. And I guess she decided you should have it when you moved. Though I expect your life change was a little different than mine. Yours was like overnight and mine a life long plan, and oh my god, Emma stop talking." She would have kept rambling except, well, he kissed her, right on the mouth and held his overfilled lips to her own. No, overfilled wasn't true. They were full, but not crazy big, they just were so plump at the edges. God, when had she thought about Harry's lips so much.

Right now, as much as she could think of anything, it was Harry's lips. She'd relaxed into his rhythm and was following his lead when her free hand took on a mind of its own and coasted from his hips up his back and into his hair. He groaned a little before he disengaged and then chuckled.

"Well," he said as the offending hand went to her mouth. Maybe she did need to stop drinking. That was bold, unlike her, and strange. But wait! What just happened? Why did he kiss her?.

"Huh?"

"I think that beat my last mistletoe kiss and I'd convinced myself that was impossible!" He was giving her a knowing look, like a wink in his smile. Did he kiss somebody else tonight? She looked up at him and tried not to be annoyed, or feel jealous, or focus on the shape of his mouth, still a little wet from her kiss. Was he just hanging out by the mistletoe like a weirdo? Seemed odd for a bloke people were lining up to meet, let alone kiss.

"Why'd you do that?" She found her voice to ask. It was rusty, like she hadn't just been laughing and talking for hours with people she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed.

"You bumped into me under the mistletoe. I assumed you wanted me to." Well, she did while he was kissing her, but now he was being a bit of an ass.

"Um, you were just in the way..."

"Well, I'll have to find myself in your path as often as possible then." Ok, that was cute, a bit cocky, like the smirk on his face. Then his face flushed and his dimples were so deep and she decided that shift, from smirky pop star to hometown mumma's boy was the best quick change she had ever seen. "Ah, see, that got you to smile!" He bopped her nose and she knew her own dimple pressed in even further.

"Nah, you're a little shit, but I like your smile. Especially when you blush." The color he turned then made her laugh out loud. She felt drunk when she realized how long they'd been staring at each other grinning. She was counting her drinks a second later when he caught her off guard again.

"Where'd you just go?"

"Wha'?" Oh boy, she'd dropped her t, she was really home now.

"We were having a moment." He motioned between their faces. "Then you went in your head. Lost your attention, didn't like it at all."

Then he caught her hand, their fingers entwined together like their lips moments before. It was hot in there. Emma shook her head and glanced around, but she didn't untangle them. She looked at her boots and felt shy. But Emma wasn't shy, Harry used to be shy, though now he was bolder than her, apparently.

"Listen," he started and she looked up to his eyes again. When had they gotten so attractive? What had gone on with him in the last couple years? Other than the international superstardom she supposed, but he'd grown into himself, like expanded his skin and presence. He was cute, but all she could think was that the end of puberty was rarely so damn kind. His fingers even seemed attractive, long and slim and she was imagining him playing piano, but then the instrument was her body, and damn, she was in her head again. She could feel that her eyes widened comically. She knew her pupils were blown. When was the last time she'd gotten laid? Apparently too long if holding hands had her imagining unspeakable things and holding in moans.

He smirked then, she guessed he knew where she went then. "Listen," he leaned in close and she nodded, their noses brushed. He exhaled and her lips tingled. "Where are you staying?"

"Huh?" She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but that wasn't it.

He giggled, and it was cute enough that Emma felt a splash of awareness hit her face. She looked around to see if anybody saw them flirting if she could disengage her gaze. "Are you at your parents?"

"Oh, um yeah?"

"Are you sure?" He laughed then and the brush of his thumb across the back of her hand was warmer than the mulled wine in her belly.

"No, I'm sure, just not sure why you are asking." She nudged him and realized a bit too late that her nipples touched him first, she was only half sorry this top meant no bra when she felt the friction.

It was his eyes' turn to widen. "Um," he exhaled and she missed his eyes when he quickly glanced down her dress like there might be a cookie there and then up quickly like he remembered he wasn't supposed to have any sweets. "Ok, um," he said after he visibly took hold of himself, "I was just hoping you had a room above the pub or something."

She knew her face called him idiot better than her mouth could.

He rolled his eyes, "I know, it was a shot in the dark!"

"Did you expect me to slide you my room key if I did?" Emma flashed her eyebrows like she wasn't imagining him finger fucking her with his piano hands a moment ago. "Isn't that your move?" She teased, kind of. She imagined he knew his way around hotel rooms, and women in them.

"Heeeey," he was being cute but the corners of his eyes dropped a moment and the green dulled. "It's not like that."

Emma scoffed.

"Well, I mean," his other hand found hers and now if anyone was watching them they were getting a show. "If it was like that, I wouldn't say no, but just want to hear about Holland, seems so amazing, and where you are in the summers..."

She could see him racking his brain.

"Iceland." They said together. And then giggled together too.

"You been keeping tabs on me?" She leaned forward and enjoyed the brush of him on her again. He shivered.

"Yeah, always admired you." He looked at her through his lashes. "I'd like to hear more reasons you're the most impressive person I've ever met."

"But I don't have a place." She reminded him.

"If I got one?"

"What?" She thought she knew what he was asking, but she wanted a minute to think about her answer, to quiet the resounding YES that echoed in her body and her mind. Because he might have said it wasn't like that, but they were chest to chest and had been holding hands since they kissed moments ago.

He looks down chagrined at his pigeon toes, before his gaze lit on their hands, then her face. "If I got a room at the Vicarage? Would you come with me? Really! We can really just talk." He assured and then the cocky boy who found his stride in hotel room assignations showed out, "if you want." Those dimples were deadly.

"Can it be the Boar's Head?" She knew she'd showed her cards, by asking for a room the town over.

He nodded and grinned like he'd just hit the hotpicks. "It can be the Boar's Head." He nodded like a dashboard bobble head. "I have to make nice here a bit longer, but I'll call now, and put your name on, so you can go when you're ready."

They'd been standing close for just a few more seconds when Gemma said- "Harry! Get off. God you are such a flirt!" But she was in her cups too, so they laughed it off.

The next hour, Emma stayed near Gem, but her eyes tracked Harry. Once, he came by and stole a sip of Gem's cocktail off her and Emma was glad her friend's ire distracted her, because Emma was watching him giggle like a fiend and the contraction of his throat. When their eyes met, she knew hers made a promise. One she wanted to keep.

So now she was alone in a couple of quaint rooms a town over, waiting to have sex with Gemma's little brother, Harry Styles.

She was torn, half of her wanted to open the bottle she'd swiped from the alcohol table at the party. The other half wanted to call an Uber and go back to her parents' house, where she should have stopped and grabbed some clothes so she wouldn't have to do the walk of shame.

But getting clothes would have meant forethought; she will deny that, especially to herself.

Emma had just opened the uber app and cursed their rural area when she heard a key in the lock.

Like a gun at the races.

They were never going to just talk. She'd just dropped her phone on the couch before Harry laid the first kiss on her.

The first kiss she planned to really remember, that is. Their mistletoe kiss had caught her off guard enough that she could only remember the feelings, not the details.

Yet, she was here, kissing him in a rented room after sneaking out of his mum's Christmas Eve party, on the strength of those feelings.

The kiss started strong and sweet, just like she takes her tea. He didn't taste like tea, he tasted like wine, Merlot maybe, but it could have been any red. And his tongue had this delicious slither to couple with its intoxicating flavor. She was in for a penny when she rode over here, but now there was no way she was going anywhere but to bed with him, no matter how pound foolish. He was nipping at her bottom lip and mouthing at her jaw before he sucked an almost mark into her collarbone and love bites onto the sides of her neck. He was just about to hit a particular sweet spot while working off her clothes, his hands were at her zipper. The cheeky boy, and she felt like they should at least hit pause even if stop was off the table.

"Harry," she moaned, or breathed, it was a sound she'd never made before.

"Hmmm?" He asked without stopping any of his forward momentum.

"I thought we were gonna talk." That one was like a laugh, there was a trill in her voice certainly.

"We'll talk afterwards." He said it like a statement, but looked to her for confirmation. At her nod, her skirt dropped and his hands were all over her bare ass above the stockings she'd worn to feel sexy but hadn't expected anyone to see. She normally would have worn tights. Thick ones, certainly, in Amsterdam. It would have been smarter here too. It was at least as cold. She'd been feeling that mix of confidence and self consciousness one gets when seeing people from your past when you think you've leveled up. She wanted to feel her best, look her best. Sexy, even if no one was interested. She's thankful, both for his interest and her unintended preparation. When he caught the sides of her knickers while her shirt and bra were as untouched as his clothes, she figured she needed to get with it. She'd been clutching his shoulders and his gorgeous hair instead of doing anything of use to their current pursuit.

Emma pulled at his shirt until it came over his messed up disheveled hair and laughed at the hodge podge of black ink haphazardly spread over his torso and one arm. "What's this then?" She said between licks of his tongue.

"After, we talk after!" He'd gotten her shirt unwrapped. She liked that detail of the shirt too, a sexy secret, like her matching bra. He pulled back to stare and was distracted long enough for her to give him another look over. He does look sexy in his decorated skin.

"What do they mean?" She liked things to make sense, her world was ordered, scientific.

Harry shrugged. "Lots of different things. Or nothing. Now can we please go to bed and we can discuss my stupid tattoos after I've had you."

"Oh fuck,'' was all she could say to that. He smirked and hoisted her up his hips to carry her through the open frame to the bedroom. He pulled her knickers free as soon as she was done bouncing.

She'd just about caught her breath when she saw him go for the button of his jeans. She lost it again when his thick bulge became visible and he pushed his tight jeans forcibly down his thighs. "Damn!" She looked at him with a glint.

He mounted the bed and spread her open, kissed her right knee over her stocking, which he seemed intent in keeping on, and looked pointedly at her center. She was swollen, his eye contact with the evidence didn't help. "Damn!" He echoed and she would have laughed but Harry, Gemma's sexy little brother, was kissing up her right thigh, with just a few licks and nips to her hip creases and so damn close to where she wanted him before he was testing the fuck out of her by kissing and licking and loving her left thigh. Ignoring her desperate need.

"Fuck, Harry. Please." She'd got the bedspread balled in her hands and she would normally have removed that before considering getting into the bed but she was also usually in pajamas and alone.

The filthy things he was saying were way worse than whatever could have been on the bedspread. Though she enjoyed them a great deal more, and it made her happy to have taken off everything already.

Harry had finally gotten to the main course. Only After her begging got loud enough to be heard by the room next door and the innkeeper, she won't make eye contact with anyone tomorrow. Maybe not even Harry, if he stayed. Emma had his full attention now, she could learn about all the things his mouth could do. The wet flat of his tongue caressed her like she was a bit of deliciousness and sunk down to find her creamy center.

"Fuck!" She yelped when he sealed his mouth over her for a tight suck and rub until she was rolling and writhing and fighting against the arms banded around her thighs. He laid one across her belly to hold her down.

"Do you like that?" He kept going because her answer was obviously yes. When the arm not restraining her passion made its piano fingered way between her thighs to do the thing she'd imagined earlier, sliding in tightly where she was wet and wanting, she clenched down on his three fingers and said his name.

He slid up her body and reached for the condom, but Emma had gotten her head back around to stop him before he got it on. She hated the taste of rubbers, and she'd like to know his flavor first. "Wait." She leaned forward between his legs and stroked him base to tip. He really was well favored, and not just from the neck up. She pressed his length to his stomach and licked the seam from his balls around and up to his head before she got a mouthful of him. Now he was her dessert. She didn't even think to try the pies and things at the party, she had been so preoccupied with the taste she'd had of him. It was but an appetizer for this. He leaked on her tongue and she moaned and hummed.

"Jesus! Emma! Stop, I'm gonna!" He pushed her back. And she was a little mad he'd taken away her sweetie. "Enough. I'd like to get inside you."

That was a suggestion she could take. So, she lay back and thought of anything but England while he stroked his skinned cock and spat over the tip. God. The way his stomach flexed caused an aftershock to recapture her. "Harry?" His name a plea. His knees hit the bed and her heels pressed him toward her, toward them.

"God, I've never seen you like this!" She'd have to ask him what he meant by that, later. Then he nodded, using his thumb to press his cock head inside the tight ring of muscle at the top of her entrance. Except he was a little low.

"Uhh!" She glanced down and grabbed him to redirect. "Wrong one." She tried not to laugh.

"Sorry, might be a touch too eager." He confessed: She's now laughing, openly. "Hey! It may have went right in, as wet as you are?"

Now she'd be indignant if he wasn't so ridiculous. "Are you really complaining about how wet my pussy is?"

"No, no, that would make me an idiot right?" He asked and found the right spot to start pushing in.

This was always her favorite part, and since this was her favorite fuck already, she knew the pop when he got the lip of his head in would be enough to begin her tip over the edge.

She moaned even before he caught the exact right angle to square her desire and she clutched his back and lifted her bottom to chase his withdrawal. "It would, god, you're perfect, an idiot."

"Oh God, Em!" She liked that. And the kisses to her mouth and chin and neck. Messy and wet and out of control. He'd gone from deliberate and self possessed to a man overcome as he rolled his hips up and into her and against that delicious place inside.

"Harry, don't stop. I'm close." Her head fell back when he slowed down just enough to draw out her orgasm, bring it to the surface and ride it home. He stroked her through and then brought his hands under her ass to lift her pelvis up to his driving thrusts, more deliberate and direct than the ones he used to get her off. She watched his face scrunch, and then open, his jaw down and his eyes closed until he smiled and licked his lips.

It's that face she decided she wanted to see as much as she could.

And she did, it was made better when he bit his lip and laughed. "Am I a perfect idiot then?"

She was blissed out and couldn't stop herself saying, "no you're an idiot with a perfect cock!" He was just pulling out of her then, and she was so embarrassed when he stood up to tie off the condom and preened.

"Am I now?"

She was the idiot. "I'll Pay you to forget I said that!" Emma wants to scurry to the bathroom and get out of here. She's already feeling shame, may as well get the walk over with.

"I don't need any money." He's laughing now. Shes scooting to the restroom when he catches her hands and holds her close. "Where are you going. You owe me, you're gonna pay me in conversation."

Wait, he still wants to talk, even after they've done what they came to do. "Ok." Shes still a little embarrassed and pulling away.

"No, no, stay and talk, come back to bed and tell me about my perfect co—" she's clamping her hand over his mouth.

"Only if you shut up, and I have to have a wee first."

"After!" He begged. "I wanna hear about school and everything. What exactly you're doing to save the world."

"I'll tell you, I have to go after, prevents uti's and such." She hated being clinical, well right now.

"It does?" He asked and she nodded. "That's good to know."

She wants to be embarrassed, but his ease when she comes back from washing up, the way he is still naked and opens his arms to her, helping her find the right spot on top of him where they are both comfortable, it makes her less self conscious, about her little factoid, her nudity, or that she's essentially slept with him right off.

She sighs and is about to ask about the giant butterfly, moth, when he speaks. "Tell me about Holland, about school." His voice is like molasses, and her words come out as slow.

"It lovely, and school is so hard, some times I might as well move onto campus, live in the library-"

"You don't live on campus?" She shakes her head. "Do you ride your bike into town?"

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, you must send me a picture of you on your bike. In a dress." He wants to text.

"Then I want updates on any stupid tattoos you get!" She counters.

"You think my tattoos are stupid?" He pouts, and she's captivated by that face.

"Very." She kissed both sparrows beaks. "But their also sexy."

He likes that, his dimples say so. Then he asks about Iceland and they talk for an hour or more before she's over him, swallowing his moans. They have another go in the morning before leaving, he's hard to convince that she'll be fine with an Uber. If he drives her, it'll blow their cover.

She wound up in his suv anyway.

For the next week they snuck out to warm up the backseat of his Range Rover, her mother's kitchen counter, his childhood bedroom, and then the inn again the night before she left. Just for a few hours, she'd told her mum she was going to the pub to say goodbye to mates.

Their goodbye meant his face remained her go-to for the next year whenever she was alone in her room, at night, missing him.

"Can I have you again, next year? For Christmas?" He'd asked.

Who could say no to that?

She faced those plans unafraid, the ones they made, for the whole next year.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #winter wonderland #chapter 2

32 notes · View notes

melchron · 4 years

Text

Nightmare Time Episode 3 Thoughts

I usually save this for the end of my thoughts but I have to say this now. OMG MATT DAHAN!!! I WILL NEVER NOT BE IMPRESSED BY HIM! Usually with the episodes I catch 1 or 2 motifs but I swear I caught everyone this time. And they all fit so well. My attention was evenly split between the music and the story this time. It was so freaking good. Matt deserves all the awards like omg.

I think this is the least laggy the theme has been. Good job going all out for the last one!

I said to my mom "Did Shashona record this video?" and she did!! Great cinematography Shashona!!

I also pointed out the Tim's daddy mask. I said "Aww he's wearing a mask for his son!". I guess my mom got confused and forgot Tim's name because she thought I was talking about Dylan's (nonexistent) son.

THE DRILL PRESSES!!

LEX AND ETHAN

I kind of already knew this but I love that Ethan knows cars. I just likes that he has a hobby.

Lex cares about Tom so much I love it.

WHY DID JANE TRY TO KILL ETHAN?!?!?!? TOM DOESN'T WANT TO MAKE LOVE TO HIM!!!! DID SHE HAVE SOME PERSONAL REASONS LIKE WHY!?!??!

That Lexthan interaction was so cute. I love how he saw she was super sorry and scared and he just stopped being mad and comforted her. They are so cute I can't handle it!!

KENDALL!!! Ok so through out this whole thing I know everyone was excited for their favorite character to come back but I really just wanted to see Kendall again. I guess after BF I assumed we would never see her again because I couldn't see them working with children becoming a normal thing. But when the original cast announcement came out I got so happy to see her name. So I was super excited to see her.

Her covering her hair with a beanie looks better than the wig

UNCLE PAUL I'M SOFT I CAN'T HANDLE THIS!!!!!

Cineplex Teen is like Larry from tawog. I guess we should start calling him Obnoxious Teen then. Until we get a name.

I love that Tim immediately likes Becky. Wish I could say the same for my stepparents.

Santa Claus Is Going To High School bb. Also I want to hear the rest of that song. Also also how many wigs does Lauren own?

TONY GREEN

Why must they make love to this movie everytime? Can't we simply just watch it and make fun of like normal people? That way Tim can enjoy it too.

Good for Jane for making sure her son doesn't have to eat disgusting school lunch. She gets good mom points.

Aww Becky reassuring him he's not a Dummy

Becky is like really horny this episode. Honestly Tom's into so go ahead girl

JAIME IS JANE

OK OK OK SO Jane said they were driving home from her parents house. Which means they were still alive when Jane died. That was only a year and a half ago so the Perkins parents might have died more recently than we thought. It's like Spring of 2019 right? So Jane died around Fall 2017. I don't remember if this was said in the show (it probably was and I'm saying nothing new) but I think Black Friday takes place about a year after her death. Tgwdlm took place October 2018. They have to have died only a few months before then. How long had Emma been in Hatchetfield before tgwdlm? Maybe there is a possibility we can see a flashback of an interaction with her parents depending on how long it's been. Also that means Emma lost her whole family in the span of a few months omg. And Tim lost his mom and his grandparents in that time. I want to see how they grieved with all of that. Also I know I'm crossing universes here but Emma also almost died the same day Jane did. Some strange force must really have it out for the Perkins family. Good on Emma for surviving like a champ.

Ok so I thought they went scouting for girls because Jane didn't want the man she loved to have to devote the rest of his life to a car. I thought she was trying to help him move on. She was getting good lover points but those have since been redacted.

Jane is definitely bi and I love that for her. I don't care if she tried to kill her new crush. It was new enough for it to mean nothing.

GREENPEACE GIRL

Tom does look like a creep ngl

Jane reminds us she's a car a lot. Like girl we get it.

No. No. No. NO NO NO NO NO NO NOPE! We're not talking about it. I don't want to. I stared at James the whole and honestly same dude. I saw Nick in my peripheral vision and loved/hated that he was laughing. RIP to me watching this with my mom. RIP to Kendall. Actually rip to everyone who had to sit through that. RIP to Jaime and Dylan for having to perform that. RIP to the cursed rehearsals. Matt and Nick seriously took the time to sit down and write that. What the heck you two?!? This made me more uncomfy than the entirety of mamd and Ted's character combined. I wish I was exaggerating. Maybe this was just me but it felt longer than it needed to. The relief and worry I felt when Tim walked in is a feeling I can not explain. Glad he was clueless.

Tim sweetie I love you but SHUT UP

Jane is crazy and Jaime is doing such an amazing job at portraying that.

Yes Tom. Because grave digging is way crazier than possessed cars.

I asked my mom why the didn't just go grave digging for Jane's body but my mom said the body is probably all rotted and gross so that explains that.

Why didn't Becky just go inside? If she went far enough I doubt Jane would have been able to hit her even if she managed to break into the house. Also let's assume Becky's house had an upstairs. There, perfect safety.

Did Becky seriously die in the same woods as Stanley?

Ok so I thought the tree thing was a reference to little Irish girl Becky from the Black Friday sk10 stream. But now it seems like something more serious and bad happened so I'm curious.

DID JANE GET TOM ARRESTED?!?!? It seemed like she could drive herself at that point. Why not let him get out and get Becky yourself? Is this that self confidence thing Tom talked about?

Is she really about to have her son be obsessed with Ms. Becky for the rest of their lives or is she gonna tell him?

This next episode made me physically jump twice. I say literally a lot but I promise you I'm using it correctly when I say I literally jumped.

KENDALL'S SINGING

I saw the thing about the ukelele being a bday gift from the cast so this was super sweet

Ok personal time. My grandmother's name is Pamela and my mom decided to permanently cut ties with her a few months ago due to her abusive behavior. Me and my sibling are still allowed to talk to her whenever we please but we haven't seen her as much as we used to. I got kind of scared watching this with my mom because I was scared this would trigger something. She didn't say anything and I didn't want to bother her about if she was fine so I didn't say anything. Anyway this just kind of hit different for me.

JAIME'S RANGE OMG

"I want to be alone with my man." Ms what are you about to do to your Tv?

DON'T GIVE HER BEER

Duke seems chill. I like him.

LEX AND ETHAN GOT ARRESTED!?!?!? FOR SELLING HER PILLS!?!??! THAT SHE TOLD THEM TO SELL!?!?!? I HATE HER!!!

Does Ms. Foster have a type or is being male good enough?

Hannah's 14? I thought she was the same age as Tim. I could have sworn in the BF commentary track they said she was 9 or 10. Did my brain make that up?

How does Kim change her hair so quickly? She did this in episode 2 too? I could never. I am very impressed.

Curt and Kim talking over the phone while standing shoulder to shoulder was funnier than it should have been

Ms. Holloway is cool. YAY MOSTLY GOOD WITCHES

How does Ms. Holloway know? I need a backstory please!!

Ok so I saw Jon in his cape and thought he might be the with. But then I saw James in his cape I y'know stopped thinking that. Anyway I'm obsessed with Jon and James in capes. Kind of wish Corey had one too.

OH I JUST THOUGHT THIS AS I'M TYPING NOW ok so that tree she was talking to at the beginning was one of the tree people. I'm embarrassed it took me this long to realise it.

Hannah is way too calm about these talking trees and sometimes spider ladies. I respect that.

There was a lot of black and white theming in this episode. More than normal. It makes me more curious about what exactly Hannah's connection to it is.

Hannah almost died in her own mind. I was kinda hating Ms. Holloway in this moment because she forced Hannah to go into her mind. But I know she had to so I'm cool with her again.

THE STARLIGHT THEATER

Did she really say just don't be scared next time? Like miss some actual advice would help.

CAN MS. HOLLOWAY'S MIND LEAVE HANNAH ALONE?? Like I know you didn't get the reaction you wanted out of her but you're seriously gonna give up and go for a little girl instead. Pathetic.

"What's shakin', Banana?" That was the first time I jumped.

WIGGLY

What exactly is that 6-legged girl? I wish we had a visual. Also how couldn't Ms. Holloway help her? What was her issue? Npmd you got anything for me?

Wiley. Just seeing him come up. That was the second time I jumped.

Also everyone already said this but props to Joey for his commitment. Shaving in between episodes like omg sir you didn't have to go all out for this. But you did and I appreciate you for it. Also HE KEPT THE JACKET?? WHAT!??! Just fully committed to this character go off Joey!!

Usually I would laugh at stuff phasing through the green screen but this just made it creepier.

HOLLOWAY AND WILEY/WILBUR BACKSTORY PLEASE

But also I love how the script had him listed at Wilbur above his lines. I remember Nick called him Wilbur once in the commentary track (possibly by accident) but it's nice to have it in cannon. I don't remember I any of the characters called him Wilbur because I'm so used to seeing Wilbur and Wiley used interchangeably but this was just nice to have canonized.

DUKE PAY ATTENTION!! FREAKING USELESS RIGHT NOW!!!

Dang Wiley she was already being choked in the physical world you didn't have to choke her in her mind too calm down

YAY MORE DOLLS

NICK I WAS KIDDING ABOUT AN APOTHEOSIS DOLL

Is the mouth one (I see we've named him Nibbly. Good because his full name is too long to type out) gonna be the npmd villain? The pick color theme seems cool.

ANGELA'S TRANSITION THOUGH!!! Omg she switched roles seamlessly. And her voice too!! Go off Angela.

MARIAH IS WEBBY

This is random and unrelated but I never noticed how big Mariah's eyes were before.

So Webby and the Doll Gang are all siblings? I find it interesting that the were described to all where black. And Webby's color theme is white. Like how the good and bad ukeleles were white and black. This might sound really dumb see as we don't have a 100% accurate visual of the black and white but I wonder if Webby ever left would it be 100% black? Like if Wiggly went through the portal would it become a little less black? Does this make sense? Also I'm starting to see the black and white as less of a bad place. Its starting to see more ominously neutral.

Hannah's favorite show is He-Man no I do accept criticism.

Ms. Holloway is a nerd. She saw Hannah make the reference and was like "Huh. I f she likes He-Man maybe making this hat a reference will make her like me." She would only know if she watched the show. But then again she seems to be stuck in the 80s so maybe she just thinks that's what's popular with the kids.

MS. HOLLOWAY PLEASE GET LEX AND ETHAN BACK

AND ANOTHER GREAT SONG TO END IT OFF

This episode was......a lot. So much happened. Loved all of it. I am scared of Nick and Matt's minds but also incredibly grateful for them. As usual everyone's acting was top notch.

I love this episode.

Also I'm just gonna say it. Jon ruined Nick's season one reveal.

#starkid #nightmare time #nightmare time spoilers #jane's a car #the witch in the web #Hatchetfield #mel thinks thoughts #melchron the good book

41 notes · View notes

dawniebb · 4 years

Text

The Ones Left

So...as you might know, @healing-winston-pratt and I have this canon divergence where Winston and Callum live, but Genissa doesn’t (because we hate her), and Nova then starts living with Leroy and Winston in a house. A couple of days ago, I wrote a thing about it. It takes place after Leroy is released from prison and...yeah, there’s nothing more to it, my brain was just like “Bro, don’t you sometimes feel like...Leroy has f e e l i n g s?”

Idk if anyone’s going to read this lmao, but if somebody does: Hi! <3 I hope you like it <3 <3 <3

“Could you… take your shoes off? I just… mopped around here because the floor was so dirty. Of course, if you don’t want to there’s no need to… I kind of… made the place a little cozier for you to be comfortable so… “

This wasn’t his Winston, although Leroy had no idea why he thought he would be.

Winston hadn’t been his Winston even before all of this happened. When he saw him at the arena, he was already a different person.

He was… normal.

Healthy.

Sane.

He hadn’t mentioned a thing about it on their way home, but he didn’t have his makeup anymore. Again. Which meant the small dose of Agent N had worked.

Thank the odds.

“Leroy? “

His voice brought him back to reality, and Leroy shook his head, taking his shoes off and paying little attention to Winston’s little “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, like I said”.

But, despite his body language shoving the opposite, he did want to.

It seemed important.

Nova and Winston weren’t the cleanest people Leroy had met, but the place was neat. They had made it neat, because they knew Leroy would be released from prison today.

“Nova is… covering her shift. They called in for a last minute, emergency meeting and she got really mad but… she’ll try to be here earlier. It’s not like Adrian will stop her, you know? “

He knew. He just didn’t feel like speaking.

For being a house provided by the government, it was very nice.

Some questionable wallpapers here and there, but it was extremely nice, and big enough for all of them to live there.

Putting his hands on his pockets, Leroy started walking, barely getting close to the stairs, while Winston walked behind him, and just…staring.

“Uhm…The bedrooms are upstairs, and we already got yours sorted out, but you can change anything you don’t like… Also I have one shelf that I don’t use in mine, so you can have it if you like. I mean, I know you always have your… experiments around so… yeah. You may have it. If you want to.”

At this point, Leroy was already in the kitchen, where there was a pot with boiling water; there was also a salad, halfway finished, by the space next to the stove.

Winston, who seemed strangely nervous, took the pot out of the stove and then turned it off.

“This was Nova’s.” he cleared his throat. “It’s not Pasta Friday, but it’s… I guess… Leroy Wednesday, I don’t know. “

“Pasta Friday.”

“You see, we’re both busy sometimes. So we usually don’t cook… I mean, we do cook but sometimes it’s easier to just order pizza. So we decided to always cook on Fridays. She makes the pasta and I’m in charge of the dessert, which is usually mug brownies or cookies but anyway…”

Leroy felt something, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on what that something was.

He had never been apart from Nova for so long, if we didn’t count that time when Tala and David left the cathedral.

After that, somehow, she had always been there, and although she did have a close relationship with Winston for some time, she never acknowledged they were that close, and neither did him (But, back then, nobody ever knew what Winston was really thinking about anyway. Not even himself).

Nova had always been pretty secretive and quiet, mostly because they had raised her that way. Yet, it was usually clear which wagons she enjoyed the most.

Needless to say, she spent a lot of time in Leroy’s. She used to spend a lot of time in Winston’s too, when she was little.

But right now, they had been living together, just the two of them, for a year, while Leroy was in prison and, for what he could see, they had taken on their relationship where they had left it that many years ago, and that seemed to be working well for them, with their Pasta Friday… thing and their bad habit to spend too much money on pizza. Though, Leroy supposed, he wasn’t in the position to judge that. At least, not yet.

“Like I said, the bedrooms are upstairs and we have a bathroom at the back of this floor. The upper one, however, it’s smaller but it’s only Nova’s.”

“Nova has a bathroom.”

“She does.” For some reason, Winston seemed pretty excited about that, as he took out a dish casserole from the fridge and started putting it on the stove. “It was a sort of pantry, I guess… or just a random extra room, so I suggested we should turn it into a bathroom for her. She’s never have privacy in her life, you know? I figured she has the right to.”

Once again, he was right.

Back in the tunnels, everyone tried to respect each other’s space, but that didn’t mean they had some sort of privacy. The reason why that seemed to bug Winston so much had always been a mystery to Leroy, but now a lot of things made sense.

Not that he were willing to talk about it yet. It still felt like crossing a line. Maybe Winston and him were not that close.

Maybe he was just pretending to like him because Nova liked him. And maybe Nova was pretending to like him just because he had tried his best to be like the father who had been torn from her.

But sometimes one’s trying was not enough, and Nova didn’t owe him anything at all. Not that Leroy considered.

Even if she did, he wouldn’t have wanted her to pay him back anyway.

Having such a nosey lab partner, who wanted to know everything about anything had been fun.

Before her, nobody ever wanted to know.

Well…

Except Honey, when she was still in her 20s, which reminded him of something.

“Where’s…?”

And, fortunately, Leroy managed to stop himself in the middle of his sentence, coming to the realization.

Winston didn’t get the message immediately, which Leroy understood, because they were talking about the house. A question starting with “Where’s” could’ve basically meant anything.

“Where’s what, Leroy?”

Where’s what.

What.

Leroy remembered how those people would address her.

She was a Godforsaken woman after all, whose family didn’t want to have anything to do with her. And, back then, Nova was a minor.

A very angry and brokenhearted minor.

After 30 years of coming home to a place she was in, Leroy felt it was the right thing to do. Even as Hugh Everhart drove him there, Leroy still felt he was doing the right thing, like… the whatever thing he was. Like a friend. Like that…wide, yet dull everything that was left in the end.

She had laid in that morgue for a couple of days, and those men…even the women, called her Jane Doe, despite knowing who she was, and addressed her as an It, because she was a monster and monsters were not people; monsters were things.

Leroy remembered how those people would look at her, so full of resentment and, at the same time, mockery.

He remembered how carelessly they had handled the blanket covering her body, because she didn’t matter.

And he remembered Hugh Everhart asking them to show some respect, as he covered her again and apologized to him.

He remembered how those people stared at him, processing there was someone here, reclaiming this loveless woman, who had a heartbeat for many years, even after she became heartless.

Leroy remembered how they would treat her, as if she were the coldest and most hideous being to have ever existed; as if she were even more ruthless than Ace Anarchy himself, and he remembered saying:

“Yes, that’s her.”

And he remembered Hugh Everhart taking over the issue with his own hands, saying, in a voice that didn’t sound like his’:

“We know, mister Flinn. But we still need you to sign.”

And he remembered signing.

What he didn’t remember, however, was forgetting all of that.

“Nothing… just…”

Winston had small hands, but when he patted his shoulder, it felt like he was being patted by Captain Chromium.

He had understood, and it was embarrassing.

“If you’re not hungry… I can take you to your room so you can get some rest… And… when you’re ready to talk about it, we’ll try to be ready too. Okay dokay? Just so you know… we understand it’s tough and that… adapting to this will be tough. But take all the time you need.”

Take all the time you need was such a hopeless phrase that Leroy couldn’t find the words to describe how much he despised it, but hearing it was better than listening to his brain.

Then, sleeping was better than any of those things, because Leroy didn’t even like the room.

Something was leaking, and his pillow was getting wet.

He wished somebody could fix that.

-.-

There was barely any sun left when the shadow Leroy recognized as Nova came into the room; with a groan, she laid on her stomach, next to him.

Her Renegade uniform looked the tiniest bit loose on her, but she didn’t smell like humidity anymore.

She smelled like this house, and even as Leroy stared at her through the nightstand light, he was able to almost see her blue eyes, despite them being closed.

He just saw her there, with her eyes closed but not asleep, tired as she looked.

One year.

Yet, all Leroy managed to do was stroke her hair awkwardly, which caught her attention, but didn’t make her pull away.

Her eyes had a spark in them. One that was foreign to Leroy.

After all this time, she was finally safe. And she knew it.

And she was so used to it, that she just rubbed her eyes, before closing them again.

“You’re not going anywhere this time, are you?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

Leroy wondered why would he leave.

“I’m staying right here.”

“Good.”

Then, she fell asleep for many, many hours.

And at least she didn’t go anywhere. Neither did him.

Nobody in that house went anywhere.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #leroy flinn #cyanide #winston pratt #nova artino #nightmare #insomnia #honey harper #queen bee #seeing winston happy always makes me happy too

41 notes · View notes

lady-celeste25 · 4 years

Text

Christmas with the Dork- John Egbert x reader

(I’m really in a Christmas mood so take this.

Tw: Nothing)

You rub your eyes as you scroll through your phone. Old messages, TikTok, anything that could entertain you at this point. You’re home from college for Christmas Break and you are having, not gonna lie, a pretty amazing time. Your mom and dad made a bunch of food. Plus, it was only the 23rd so that means things are barely over yet. They both wanted to know every single thing about what happened during the semester. Both of them especially wanted to know about your boyfriend, John Egbert. It got so bad that eventually, you just invited him over. Of course, they loved him.

You had been dating for about three months and had known each other since practically the first day. Rose Lalonde, one of your good friends, was in one of your classes and introduced him to you. Mostly because she said your personalities meshed perfectly. She was right, of course.

As you keep on scrolling, your phone buzzes. You sit up from your bed to read it. It was a Pesterchum from none other than John Egbert. A grin spreads across your face. He had been messaging you every single day since break, telling you all his hopes for this Christmas. His biggest goal is to get a new nerf gun, a good one with an extra holster for extra bullets. He wants it so he can get a chance to try and ambush Strider. Just for the hell of it. You shake your head and read the messages from him.

--ectoBiologist started pestering (chumHandle) at 3:27 PM--

EB: (Y/N)!!

EB: hey!!

CH: John!

EB: i can’t believe i get the chance to talk to you again

CH: You literally talked to me yesterday, buddy.

EB: i know

EB: but still

EB: it’s been soooooooo long :(

CH: Haha.

CH: So what’s up, nerd guy?

EB: listen i know this is kinda short notice but

EB: would you like to come over to a christmas party at my house

EB: my family would really like to meet you

EB: and I kinda promised them you would come

EB: it’s at 5 so you would have time to get ready

EB: pleassssssssssse

You think about it for a moment. You wonder if it’s worth it. You’re a bit of a mess. You’ve barely moved from the house for the entire break. Your eyes were crusty, your breath was probably deadly, and the feeling of uncleanliness just stayed on your skin. The more you thought about it, however, the more you realized you couldn’t turn this down. It was your boyfriend! Plus, it’s Christmas. It wouldn’t be very sweet of you to do that. Also, you could finally meet John’s family! He met your family and now you can meet his. It’s only fair.

CH: Sure!

CH: Yes!

CH: I would love to come over, John. :)

EB: yessssssss

EB: see you in a bit

--ectoBiologist ceased pestering chumHandle at 3:33 PM--

You lay there for a moment, a smile on your face. This was so extremely exciting. As you stayed in that moment of happiness, another moment followed. Shit, you have to get ready. Scrambling out of bed, your thoughts go everywhere. What should you wear? Is this like a formal event or something more chilled out? It’s just a Christmas party but you want to impress. John doesn’t care what you look like as long as you’re being yourself, so you have an idea. You go to quickly hop in the shower and freshen up a bit. After that, you quickly throw on a movie t-shirt, some jeans, and a jacket.

In your closet, you grab a small box wrapped up in blue wrapping paper. The box may or may not be a gift for John. You put it carefully under your arm Finally, you leave your bedroom after a straight five hours just chilling in there. Your parents wave goodbye to you before you leave to go get in your car. You shoot a quick message John’s way to say you’re on your way. He responds with a smiley face. Butterflies flew through your stomach. This was extremely exciting. This was a good time to meet them and it was so exciting. It’s Christmas and Christmas parties normally always ended up really well for you! At least you’ve heard about most of his family members and had a general idea of how many people would be there. You put his address into your phone, turn up the music on the radio, turn up the heater, and get to driving.

The drive was a relatively nice one but when you finally stopped at his house, you were, of course, nervous. Looking up at it was even more threatening, like a looming giant. It seemed like a very nice little house. It was nice, medium-sized, and colored an off-white. On one side of the house, a nice little deck sat, and on it was a brass telescope. The chimney was puffing out smoke, indicating that a fire had been started already. The driveway was piled with cars. In the front yard, snow angels and snowmen were sprayed across the fresh snow proudly. All the snowmen were decorated differently.

As you get out of your car, the nerves just get worse, twisting around your stomach painfully. You carry John’s present safely as you step carefully around the icy sidewalk. You reached the door with ease, took a deep breath, and knocked. From inside, a girl’s voice screeched ‘I got it!’ The door was opened by what you would assume was the same voice. A girl, maybe around a year or so younger than you and John with glasses and a pixie cut stood there. This has got to be John’s little sister, Jane. You’ve seen a lot of pictures of John with her from when they were kids. You even followed her on a few social medias but this was your first time meeting her.

“Oh my gosh!” She squeals in excitement. “(Y/N)! It’s so good to finally see you in person!”

“Hey there Jane!” You smile widely. “It’s so good to see you too!”

Jane holds her arms out for a hug and you move to hug her. Her grip is tight. It actually helps to calm your nerves a bit. We both laugh as she drags me into the living room. There’s a bunch of people inside. The living room was clean and everything was practically pristine. The smell, however… ugh. The smell was completely unbearable. Like cake mix and frosting mashed together. Too much of it.

First of all, you see your good friend and John’s cousin, Jade Harley sitting on the couch with her lovely dog, Bec, laying in her lap. They’re watching what seems to be Home Alone on the TV. Next to her is whom you’re assuming is John’s aunt. He never told you her first name but you know her last name is Claire. She has a glass of wine in her hand and is also watching the movie. A little boy who seems to maybe John’s little cousin, Jude, is holding a small gun while an older man, Jade’s grandpa, holds a real gun. They seem to be practicing some kind of shooting. Not actually pulling he trigger, just learning how to hold it correctly. Yikes.

“GUYS, LOOK!” Jane yells out. “(Y/N’S) HERE!” Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at you.

Jade’s the first one to spring up, Bec jumping from the couch as well, “(Y/N)! Hey, there! I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks!” She runs to you and gives you a big huge just like Jane did.

“You haven’t,” You laugh out, patting her back. “We’ve been on winter break.”

“Oh, yeah!” Jade breaks the hug, looking straight at you. “I’m so glad John invited you over! It’s not every day I get to see my bestie!” Before she can keep going on and on, the woman steps up. She gives Jade a little push as a way to say ‘it’s my turn’ and Jade gets the hint.

“Hello,” she offers her hand and you take it, “I’m A. Claire. It’s so nice to meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am,” you give her hand a proper shake. The little boy then came running up. He pushes in front of Miss Claire and grins at you with crooked teeth. He puts his hands on his hips.

“Hi!” The boy said. “I’m Jude.”

“Hey there, Jude,” you smile back down at him. “I like your shirt.” He was wearing a shirt with a UFO that was levitating Santa’s sleigh. The compliment made him grin even more.

“A fan of aliens I see,” Jude taps his chin, “that’s a big plus on your side. Now, just a few more questions to see if you’re acceptable enough to date my favorite cousin.” He brings out a notebook and pen that seemed to be covered in questions. Luckily, before he can start Jade’s Grandpa takes his shoulder and drags him back a bit so he can talk to you.

“Hello there again, (Y/N)!” Grandpa Harley says in his jolly, booming voice. You two have met before since you hang out with Jade all the time too.

“Hi Grandpa Harley,” you give him a nod. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he looks down at Jude. “Why don’t we go outside and do some target practice on those snowmen.”

Jude’s face lights up even more than before, “YEAH!” Jane gasps in horror from behind you.

“Don’t you dare shoot my snowmen!” Jane yells, shaking her fist at them. “You two wouldn’t dare. I MADE THOSE WITH PRIDE AND LOVE!”

“Try us, Jane!” Jude laughs out, grabbing the gun out of his pocket and running outside with Grandpa Harley, Jane in tow.

“Such dorks, am I right?” Jade laughs, looking at you.

“Yep, they’re definitely a part of the extended Egbert family,” you say, laughing along with her. Your laughter stops, however, when you feel something bump into your legs. Looking down, you see John’s salamander-daughter thing. You take her into your arms, wanting to get her off the floor where she could be trampled by Bec or something.

“Casey!” Jade scolded. “John told you not to be down here without him!” Casey did nothing but gurgle in response.

“You can never win against a salamander, Jade,” you turn to her with a smile. “It’s just not mathematically possible.” Jade crosses her arms and sticks her tongue out at Casey with a small giggle.

“(Y/N), hey!” Someone says. Standing in the doorway that leads into the kitchen stood… Jake! Jade’s younger brother. A girl follows him out looking similar to Jude.

“Hey, Jake,” You wave at him. He walks over to where the two of you stood and the little girl followed. “I’m guessing you’re Joey, huh?” The little girl nods. Joey was another one of John’s cousins.

“Are you dating John?” Joey asked curiously.

“Yeah, I am!” You nod. Joey’s face falls and she beckons you down to her height. You lean down.

“Are you sure you can’t do better than him?” She whispered into your ear. “I mean, I know he seems cute now… but he’s such a doofus. It really seems like you can do better!” I laugh at her concern.

“I hope you’re not saying anything bad about me,” a voice says from the stairs. “Cause if you are, I’m screwed.”

Looking up, there stood John, like he was Cinderella or something. His glasses didn’t sit right on his face and he was wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater anyone has ever seen. Your face runs red as you smile up at him. You stand up from Joey and set Casey down on the floor before flinging yourself up the stairs and into his open arms.

“John!” You grin, setting your forehead on his shoulder.

“Awww!” Jade squeals from downstairs. “You two are so cute!” Looking down at everyone, you got mixed responses. Joey gives a so-so sign with her hand but Miss Claire smiled pleasantly. Jake gave John a thumbs up.

“Jeez, Jade,” John blushed. “Shut up.” Jade keeps on giggling while John looks back at you. “Have you met my dad and nanna yet?”

“No,” you shake your head, “but I have met Miss Claire, Grandpa Harley, Jude, Joey, Jane, and of course, Jake and Jade who I already know.”

“Man,” John shakes his head laughing, “you’ve met everyone except my dad and nanna. They’re very antsy to meet you, so we better hurry.” He takes your hand with his own warm one. Together you two practically flew down the stairs.

Together we walk past everyone and straight into the kitchen opening that Jake and Joey ducked out from. The smell of cake batter hits you and it’s twelve times worse than before. It hits John as well because both of you cover your noses making sour faces. Standing there is an older woman mixing cake batter and a professional-looking man holding a fully decorated cake. John clears his throat and they finally both turn to face us.

“Johnathan,” the older man spoke first, “is this (Y/N)?”

“Dad,” John groans out, “you know it’s just John. Yes, this is them. So please, don’t scare them off. I’m begging you.”

The older woman sits down the cake immediately and glides up to you, “hello, (Y/N), dear!” She throws her arms around you and pulls her down to her height. “It’s so good to meet you! We’re so glad John found you! We’ve all heard so much about you from him. He never stops talking about you!” John’s face flames red.

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am,” you stutter out from her tight grip.

“Oh, just call me Nanna, dear!” She chirps, finally letting go of you so you can gulp down some air. Next up was John’s dad with his hand out for a shake. I take his blistered hand into my own and give it a proper shake.

“That’s quite a good handshake you’ve got there,” he comments. “You can call me Mr. Egbert.”

“Thanks,” you smile back. “My dad always taught me that a strong handshake can make a lasting impression.”

“Smart man,” he mutters out before going back to decorating the cake.

“Alright, alright,” John’s face had luckily come down from the blush. “I’ve gotta go show (Y/N) something so we’ll be right ba-”

“(Y/N)!” Jade pushes herself into the kitchen, shoving John onto a chair next to him. She grabs onto your arm. “(Favorite Christmas Movie) is on! Let’s go!”

“I love that movie!” You gasp.

“I know!” Jade jumps up and down. “C’mon let’s go watch it!”

“Jade, uh-” you try to get out but she just wouldn’t listen. You were quickly dragged away from John who could barely stutter out for Jade to stop.

You were shoved down on the couch and Jade plops down right next to you. Miss Claire sat on a chair next to Jade. It was true that your favorite movie was on but truly, you would’ve liked to see what John had to how you. John stood behind you and you turned to say something to him, but Bec quickly jumps into your lap and steals the words away from you. When you turn around to talk to him again, John’s gone. You shrug it off, try to relax, and watch the movie.

-------

Everyone had ended up sitting in front of the TV, watching the movie. Grandpa Harley, Jude, and Jane all sat with red cheeks and noses. Jude decided to sit right next to you, questioning you on just about everything. Jake was joking with Jade, Jane sat next to your feet silently watching the TV, and Joey kept telling Jude to shut it and let you enjoy the movie. Grandpa Harley continued chatting on with Miss Claire and Nanna and Mr. Egbert was sitting there silently, watching the movie. Bec had fallen asleep in Jade’s lap and even Casey had tuckered out between Jude and you. The only one missing was John… you couldn’t help but wonder where he went. You hadn’t seen him since.

“Another question,” Jude says, leaning into view, “do you believe that there are really aliens in Area 51?”

“Oh, well…” you hum. “I mean, the truth is out there.”

There’s banging footsteps down the stairs and John finally appears and grabs you by your shoulders, “sorry, Jude! I have to borrow (Y/N) for a second. Okay? Okay.” He pulls you from the couch before anyone could complain and starts to drag you upstairs.

“John,” you laugh a bit with an amused smile on your face, “what are we doing?”

“Getting you away from my nuts family,” John jokes, as we walk into what you assumed was his room. It looked the same from when Rose, Dave, Jade, John, and you used to facetime while either of you went home for the weekends. Stupid movie posters, a magician’s chest, computer. It just screamed him. The two of you sat down on his bed.

“I have a gift for you,” you smile, staring into his eyes.

“Oh, really?” John smiles back. “I may or may not have one for you too.”

“The present better not be a stupid prank,” you chuckle, remembering how many times he’s pranked your friends and you. It was a joy.

“Of course not,” he promises.

“Okay, okay, mine first,” you say, grabbing into your jacket and bringing out the small gift. You pushed it into his hands and he beams.

John took a while trying to unwrap it. He got extremely confused by the ribbon for a moment but then got it and finally got the box open. In it, there were two gifts. The first gift he pulled out was a keychain. Engraved on it was a small lobster and the words ‘you are my lobster.’ John burst out laughing.

“I love it,” he chuckles out. He grabs his keys off the computer table and attaches it on.

“I’m glad,” you laugh along. He takes out the other present and unrolls the poster. A Con Air poster signed by Nicolas Cage, John Cusak, and John Malkovich. John lets out a squeak of excitement.

“Oh my God!” He jumps up, staring at it. “Seriously? Are you serious?”

“Yes, John,” you nod. “My uncle works somewhere in the movie field and I asked him if he could get this for you.”

“I LOVE IT I LOVE IT!” John puts the poster down and throws himself into your arms. “I love you! Oh my God!”

“I’m so glad you like it!” You laugh gripping onto his shoulders.

“Wait, okay, okay!” He pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, let’s go see your present.” John pulls you out onto what seems like deck from before. The telescope stood proudly there. “Look into the telescope.”

You move your head down so you can see through the telescope. A beautiful star stood proudly in the frame, “this is beautiful.” Your breath comes out in cold puffs.

“Hey, can you turn around real quick,” he asks. When you turn around a small folder was held in his hand. John bowed, offering you the folder. When you open it up, a few laminated papers sat in it. Looking at the front page, a star sits there. The same star you were looking at before. “Listen, I don’t want this to be too weird but-” Under the star was a name. Your name. He named a star after you.

You put a hand over your mouth before throwing your arms around him and kissing him, “I love it, John!”

“I’m so glad,” he laughs out, “cause I really thought that like, it would be weird and-”

“Well, it’s not,” you say. “This is adorable and I love it. Thank you so much.”

“Of course, anything for you,” he pats your back. “Now come on, let’s get back downstairs to my family. We don’t want them thinking I like, pushed you off the balcony or something.”

#john egbert #john egbert x reader #x reader #homestuck fanfiction #jude harley #joey claire #jade harley #jake english #a claire #grandpa harley #jane crocker #fanfiction

59 notes · View notes

nadiineross · 3 years

Text

so this is spiderbyte wip which i cannot be bothered to finish but i thought it would be cute n funny if sombra makes them go on a legal vacay together like they go on tripadvisor and dress up like tourists and theyre using their sick days or smth not that i think talon would give either of them sick days since its a terrorist organization.. lol ANYWAY hv fun :)

Widow has no idea how Sombra pulled it off, but she’s hardly surprised since doing unthinkable, and unthinkably stupid, things is sort of Sombra’s schtick. So, here she is, standing in a commercial airport with a neck pillow wedged around her peach-painted elbow and two 4-wheel suitcases at her hip, waiting for her girlfriend to finish taking a piss.

She is, on some level, excited for this actually legal, Talon-cleared weekend-long vacation. It’s not that she thinks she’ll get bored or hate it—after all, Sombra had organized everything and Sombra is one among maybe three people who give a fuck about what Widow thinks about things—but she wonders, sometimes, about the genuineness of her own emotions. She experiences them shallowly. Like they’re dialed down. On occasion, experiences them like a choice; a matter of whether or not she wants to expend energy on reacting to something.

Because of this, she wonders if she fakes them and does it so well, she’s fooled herself. But then what difference would that make?

Yes, she’s happy to spend time with Sombra. Always. It just doesn’t matter to her at all the how and when of it. Doesn’t feel like there’s anything significant about going to a different country with Sombra, partake in new activities with her.

To Sombra, it’s different. She’s been giddy about this for a week, constantly nudging Widow so she’ll lean over and look at whatever part of the travel plan Sombra’s putting together. Sombra feels the urge to see new places and do new things with people she likes to spend time with.

Widow’s okay with sitting in Sombra’s room, with the hip LED strip lights she sees in the “tick tocks” Sombra shows her, doing nothing in between messing around on the bed. Widow’s okay with flying to ass nowhere, Europe, to watch Sombra’s back and shoot people. That’s going somewhere new; that’s doing something new. It’s all the same to her.

But then again, Sombra wants this, so it’s automatically different.

And that’s the extent of Widow’s feelings about this.

Sombra comes bounding out the airport bathroom just as Widow considers going in to check. As soon as she spots Widow, she scowls and moves the pillow from Widow’s arm to her neck. Again.

“You promised,” she reminds Widow.

Widow looks at her impassively. Considers it.

She promised she would “get in the holiday spirit,” but that was before she had known about Sombra’s ridiculous definition of holiday spirit. Still, a promise is a promise. Besides, this was Widow’s gift to Sombra. Specifically, Widow had told Sombra that she gets one do-stupid-things free pass, happy anniversary, chérie, come back to bed.

One occasion where Sombra can drag Widow into something and Widow will comply without complaint, all within reason, of course. And Sombra picks a vacation.

Sombra, who has become a master at staring contests with Widow, having dated her for a year and a handful of weeks now, waits her out. Finally, Widow sighs and reaches up to button the donut pillow at her throat.

“Looks great, babe,” Sombra says brightly, and begins to wheel her suitcase towards the departure hall proper.

Widow sighs again and follows after her.

“Does this even count as a legal vacation if we are using fake documents?”

“Say it louder,” Sombra grumbles, “I don’t think airport security got that.”

Widow tries not to smile. She takes in a deep breath and, indeed, louder, says: “Does this even c—”

“I hate that you think you’re funny now,” Sombra huffs. “Dating me is such an ego boost for people.”

“People?” Widow muses. Sombra ignores that. Whatever. She changes tracks to something she’s actually curious about. “What’s the name on your passport?”

“Sombra,” says Sombra.

Widow squints at her. “Sombra what? You don’t have a last name.”

“Spider,” Sombra deadpans, “Obviously, it doesn’t say Sombra. Why the hell would I put that on my passport? That’s dumb. I’m very good at being a criminal, you know?”

“Yes, baby,” says Widow, “the best.”

Sombra rolls her eyes but the edges of her mouth twitch up before she can control it. Widow can’t help but smile herself. “It’s Jane Smith.”

“That… is so boring.” She wrinkles her nose. “And so American.”

“What? You don’t think I look exactly like a Jane Smith?” Sombra asks.

Widow stares at her.

“Whatever.” Sombra sniffs, snootily, and rubs a hand over the buzzed side of her head. It’s grown out a bit—Widow will shave it for her soon.

“You are terrible with aliases.”

Sombra had given her a fake passport earlier today, back at base. Widow’s now May Parker, a Canadian national since Sombra didn’t have faith in Widow’s fake accent skills and told her, quite condescendingly, to stick to French. The name was a reference to something, Widow’s not sure what, just thankful that Sombra hadn’t ended up printing the name of the first French historical figure that came to mind. Napoleon Bonaparte probably wouldn’t have gone over too well with airport authorities.

At check-in, the woman barely bats an eye at their too-nondescript names. It’s likely not that rare for people to come through airports with fake names in this day and age anyway. Probably, it’s quite rare to have terrorists doing it for vacation, but Widow has to admit their outfits don’t quite match up with that image.

Sombra picks their seats as Widow hauls their suitcases onto the belt. When all’s said and done, Sombra loops their arms together and pulls them towards security.

Sombra keeps glancing up at Widow’s face while they wait in line. It’s her only tell that she’s nervous and Widow can guess why. The sunscreen-like balm they’d smeared all over her, to make her look normal, should hold up for the duration of their flight. Though, she didn’t trust Talon scientists, she could trust their science, so she’s not worried about it.

Anyway, it wasn’t the 20th century. Most body mods were socially acceptable now. Sombra, in all her cyborg glory, shuffles past security with no problem.

It’s another half hour wait at their gate before they finally board. Sombra takes the middle seat, leaving Widow with the window. The aisle seat is, thankfully, empty. She’s not sure if Sombra did that on purpose, but she doesn’t particularly care either way, so she doesn’t ask.

Sombra reaches over and taps both of their mini-TV screens at the same time. A moment later, The Room (2003) begins playing on their screens simultaneously. Sombra makes a triumphant little sound and cuddles into Widow’s side.

Widow drapes her arm around Sombra and sighs.

A brief shitty movie marathon later, they’re touching down in Hokkaido, Japan, and Sombra’s tugging her gangly girlfriend out her seat. Widow’s vaguely tired and has already made Sombra promise they’re calling in a favour from Akande for a Talon plane back home after this. It takes a lot of brain power for her to keep up with Sombra sometimes, especially when it comes to silly things like enjoying bad movies.

(Sombra tells her it isn’t brain power that she is expending; rather, it’s called the emotional labour of loving someone.)

By the time they get to their lodging, Widow’s just about ready to pass out.

She pushes the first door she sees and falls into bed. Outside, she hears the rapid padding of Sombra’s footsteps as she explores every nook and cranny in the cabin.

She’s not sure how long she’s been lying down, but next she opens her eyes, the sky is dark blue and Sombra’s face is alarmingly close to hers.

Sombra grins and touches her cheeks. “Hey, you should get up.”

Widow blinks lazily at her. Then: “No.” She rolls around and closes her eyes again. “We’re on vacation.”

“We have to wipe that shit off you,” Sombra says, a note of affection colouring her tone.

She allows herself a few more seconds before she sits up with a huff and follows Sombra into the en suite. It’s a nice bathroom: a big tub, classy tiling, and there’s a big window facing a snowy mountainside, framed by gnarly trees.

note: and like i had this idea that sombra had her own agenda picking japan like mayb to hack into some mountain base but mostly i wanted to write widows skiing skin:) and they do stupid shit in the snow and eat good food and roll around in the sheets in their cozy lil cabin during a snowstorm and at the end these two who hv j been like. a pair of random tourists roll outta there in a bigass talon plane, guns equipped on the outside and everything, everyone else is alarmed, shitting themselves, but sombras j chilling in widows lap as they head back to base, blissfully unaware

#spiderbyte #spiderbytefics #hehe i wrote a full 1 shot on my main if anyone cares:)

6 notes · View notes

thewebcomicsreview · 4 years

Photo

Normally I open up the Homestuck 2 liveblog with a tongue-in-cheek comment about how reading HS2 is pain, but I just watched the debate and HS2 looks incredible by comparison, so let’s see if this good mood carries over. Looks like we’re on Candyland, too, Candy updates tend to be better (or at least bad in a funny way) than the oft-boring Meat updates, and personally, I think “The Omega Kids fuck around” is the best part of HS2 by yards.

Man, that lamp is almost perfectly positioned to draw a line through the image separating the two scenes (the dialogue for which is on two separate columns), but it’s just the tiniest bit off-center. I wonder if that was intentional and mobile-responsiveness is just a cruel mistress. It’s a cute touch, if so. I suppose the door (and the photos, which are the same height as the door) also serves the same purpose of having the two scenes be sectioned off. I don’t really know a lot about “scene composition” so maybe I should stay in my wheelhouse, but I think it’s divided very nicely

HARRY: and some of us aren't gods and shit. JOHN: i'm detecting a hint of judgement in your voice, there, harry anderson JOHN: don't you enjoy being a part of all this? finally getting to be in the thick of it all?

John, always dense, has not picked up on Harry Anderson’s demotion to Harry. He’s also inserting a lot of his own desires onto Harry, here, too. Vrissy is the one who wanted to be in the thick of it all (thematic idea to stick a pin into to see if it plays out: John should be mentoring Vrissy and Vriska should be mentoring Harry. Some evidence that HS2 is building this idea, but not a lot yet)

HARRY: now YOU look like you're hiding some extra commentary. JOHN: oh, i don't need to burden you with all the bureaucratic stuff, it's boring.

You gotta subscribe to John’s $20/mo Patreon tier for that, Harry.

JOHN: because here i am, sitting in the dugout, same as you. HARRY: in the dugout? JOHN: oh, or, uh... JOHN: what's a metaphor you might like better... HARRY: no, JOHN: i'm like the uhh...understudy. HARRY: dad. no, jesus, you don't have to do this. JOHN: or i got cast in as babysitter number 2 when i had auditioned for, i dunno, HARRY: yeah, please, i got the baseball metaphor. HARRY: i'm not a complete fucking nerd.

John doesn’t really “get” theater kids, I get. It makes me think a little of how John’s dad thought John was massively into clowns. Also, this is a cute.

JOHN: it's been really nice to get to spend so much time with you. HARRY: um. yeah, it's not so bad. HARRY: anyway, before you ruffle my hair or anything, it looks like things are getting a bit heated between the vriskas over there. HARRY: maybe we should offer them a snack to bring the mood back down? JOHN: me, mess up your hair when you’ve worked so hard on that look? i do know you at least that well, harry anderson HARRY: thank god.

This is also cute. Harry maybe the only person in the entire cast of Homestuck or Homestuck 2 to have a semi-normal relationship with his parents.

Speaking of semi-symmetry, the line where Harry says how happy he is to stay home almost lines up perfectly with Vriska being furious that she has to stay home. I wonder again if that’s a coincidence of if someone had a really clever idea that didn’t make it fully intact through editing (or was considered not worth the effort).

VRISKA: How are you so calm right now? Your lusii were training you, right? And you’re a troll, you’re definitely five times stronger than a human! And if you’re my clone, you are way more 8adass than little miss Fussy Fangs.

Vriska is making several false assumptions here, but the most interesting one is that Vrissy is Vriska’s clone. She’s not. She’s descended from Vriska, and takes after Vriska very strongly, but it’s not a one-to-one thing.

VRISSY: 8ut I guess this Situation is Kind of Serious? VRISSY: There’s a whole Plan and Stuff Like that. VRISKA: Clearly not a good plan, 8ecause then I would 8e part of it!

Vriska.jpg

VRISKA: That’s just even more indication that they don’t know what they’re doing! Lalonde and Maryam have had however many sweeps to get older and stupider, 8ut from where I’m standing, it was literally only a few days ago that I was their commander! I am primed for the 8attlefield!

Okay, this line is across from John saying he’s in the dugout. There is absolutely an intentional, if not one-to-one strict, mirroring of these two conversations that’s actually really neat. I should go back to the other times HS2 has had conversations formatted like this to see if this mirroring has been happening all along. It’s a really good use of the format! I like this a lot!

JOHN: so anyway, as you can see, this would have worked just fine! HARRY: no i think karkat’s right. this looks like shit, dad. JOHN: you know, me letting your earlier use of the word "fuck" slide wasn't a blanket approval for all cursing in front of me. HARRY: sorry. HARRY: try not to make such a shit plan, and i won't call it that. JOHN: haha wow.

The other thing I like is the John/Harry dynamic.

HARRY: it's not like i think i'm any better! HARRY: i mean, i still can't believe i told vrissy and them to bring a dead celebrity to school. HARRY: what was i THINKING. JOHN: you were thinking it sounded hilarious! JOHN: but yeah, in hindsight, maybe not the best call. JOHN: maybe it’s genetic? HARRY: yeah. HARRY: i kinda can’t believe we’re all still alive, actually. HARRY: and how did YOU make it this far, being so bad at this? JOHN: i had my friends with me, i guess.

John your friends repeatedly tried to kill you and succeeded at least twice.

He’d spent so long seeing mostly the best parts of Roxy in Harry Anderson. He forgot, he guesses, to look for himself in there, too. And if what they have in common right now is a lack of strategic foresight, hey, he’ll take it.

I’m slowly developing a theory that John is subconsciously the narrator of Candy, given how everything suddenly started going John’s way after Calliope left (and how the narrator seemed to really hate Gamzee last chapter). Remember, John has spoken in narration before in HS1, but never seemed to realize he was doing it. I probably need to essay this theory out at some point, but not now.

Oh, hey! Jane does have goons! And they’ve slightly change the way they draw Rose’s hair, so her head isn’t a perfect circle with lines on it. This looks much better.

JANE: I haven't given a political speech in years, Ms. Lalonde. I don't know what you're referring to. I'm just a simple business woman. JADE: right with her own talk show JADE: and multi billion dollar merchant company and lobbying groups! JANE: That's what a business woman is, Jade, dear.

I know that this is supposed to be Capitalism Bad, but “You claim to be a businesswoman when you own a merchant company!”. Jade. Come on. This reads less as Jane going “Of course I’m evil, I’m a CEO” and more that Jade literally doesn’t know what a business woman is.

JANE: You are on my territory, in the presence of my secret police, laying your hand on my investment.

Jane you don’t own “territory” do you not know what a businesswoman is either?

JANE: Your ship is in contested airspace. You will land, whereby it will be confiscated by the Royal Human Guard. After that you will be taken into custody.

CONTESTED BY WHOM, JANE? WHO THE FUCK IS THE WAR BETWEEN?!

JADE: shut the fuck up for a minute and look up!

There’s a BIG-ASS spaceship like ten feet in front of you! Did you not notice until Jade pointed it out?

Also why does the Rebellion ship have the Crockercorp prongs on it?

JANE: Or have you forgotten who has been paying for her schooling and taking charge of her introduction into society? JADE: i never asked you to do that! JADE: you offered! JADE: so stop calling me ungrateful for not sucking your dick over things i never asked for!

Sorry again, Jade, are you implying that you wouldn’t have given your daughter an education had Jane not offered? “Rose and Jade entrusted their daughter to Jane, who they were at war with” is an enigma of a plot point.

The world is watching her be dressed down by a couple blood traitor rebels, one of which has very prominent dog ears. Jane wonders if either of them are even recognizable to the assembled as two of the old gods. One of her PR managers had recommended that she keep her look as static as possible, so that people can always recognize her as Jane Crocker, Captain of Industry, Creator of Earth C, Maintainer of Peace and Plenty.

Jade has always had dog ears what the fuck? I guess this is supposed to be Jane’s warped thinking.

So, anyway, Kanaya fake-holds Tavvy hostage, Jane buys the threat as real and they build up like Jane is going to sacrifice her own son for PR points but she ultimately stands down and lets everyone go. It’s left intentionally vague whether or not she was always going to do this, or if she didn’t want to do it in front of Jake, or if the presence of Jake stirred something in her that made her change her mind. I like the ambiguity.

This was a very “Homestuck 2″ update. The plot of kind of nonsense, but it’s carried by the character interactions and a bit of cleverness.

#Homestuck 2 #Homestuck 2 liveblog #Homestuck

27 notes · View notes

i-am-a-passenger · 4 years

Text

Number Log

Book 3 hasn’t even dropped and here I am writing mall rats fanfiction...

Summary: Simon has been keeping a log of every Apex member's number when one day he realises that he's never actually noted down Grace's number and jumps at an excuse to spend time with her.

ao3 / ff.net

113 - Saoirise, 908147 - Jonathan (Jon), 746 - Michael, 579 - Tanesha, 65796 - Milton, 168 - Jane, 1789 - Patience, 6547 - Sandeep, 5531 - Pete, 575 - James, 65472 - Ronja, 941 - Luke, 25 - Joshua, 156 - Kiesha, 7621 - Maleka, 1383 - Chadira, 69 - Charlie, 17 - Faith

Simon sharpened his pencil while skim reading over the log he was keeping of everyone’s numbers. He flipped the page and cross referenced a few of them - they’d picked Faith up just a few weeks ago and she wasn’t making as much progress as was expected. Then again, his log said she’d started out at just 9. They’d found her just in time.

He turned the page back and wrote - Todd.

Todd sat on the edge of a maskeshift bed in the pharmacy they’d converted into a hospital for any injured Apex members. His broken foot had been revealed to be just a broken toe which Simon had carefully taped to another so it would heal straight. Simon was normally the one that tended to these sorts of injuries while Grace handled explorations, so he was used to it. Normally Simon joked around with the kids to get them comfortable enough to not fidget when he pulled out splinters or bandaged scrapes, but today he had other things on his mind.

Simon tried to smile at the boy while glancing at his right hand. Todd had his hand resting on the bed so Simon couldn’t see his number, just a feeble glow emanating from the edges of his fingers.

“How’re you feeling?” Simon asked.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good. Now-” Simon lent forwards, “Jane told me your number went up when you kicked that nasty null and broke your toe.”

Todd’s face brightened, “Oh yeah! It went up to 218!”

“Really?” Simon tried to hide his disappointment. Going up by eight points was hardly a feat, but he couldn’t let Todd see that. “That’s great! You must’ve given that null quite a kick! Can I see?”

Todd thrust out his hand while grinning but his smile quickly faded when he saw Simon’s expression.

“Your number…” Simon stated, “has gone down.”

Todd looked at his hand, which clearly read 212.

“I-I hadn’t realised! I promise I didn’t do anything to make it do that!” Todd insisted.

“Are you sure? It couldn’t have just gone back down by itself… and you were doing so well…” Simon said sadly.

“I’m sorry…”

Simon silently wrote down 212 next to Todd’s name.

“It’s alright Todd- you’re still just a kid. Your number’ll sort itself out and if you keep trying hard then hey, maybe it’ll even be like mine one day.” Simon gloatingly held out his arm and turned it slowly so Todd could drink in the full glowing beauty of the glowing lines.

“That’d be so cool! What do you get when you have the highest number?”

“You get to be the best.” Simon answered and said softly, “Like Grace is.”

“Is that it?” Todd looked disappointed and his number whirred as it dropped to 210 again. “Sorry!”

“It’s alright Todd.” Simon said glumly- the boy was clearly a lost cause if he couldn’t keep his number steady for even 5 minutes. He crossed out the two and put a zero. “Just stay off your foot for a while.”

He closed the number log and left the pharmacy with it in his hand.

The Mall was mostly empty aside from a few kids milling around the loot drop- but since the car Grace went to check out hadn’t had anything worth bringing over they were just raking through old treasures. Grace really hadn’t been happy about that car. The train wasn’t designed for passengers to live in one car and the difficulty finding food without straying so far from the base you couldn’t get back was meant to encourage them to travel - so if they couldn’t get more supplies soon they’d have to send out a team of scavengers. If they got lost that would be devastating but it wasn’t like Simon and Grace could let The Apex starve. The bags of cotton candy Grace had brought back from The Lucky Cat was hardly a good meal. Grace was probably worried. They were losing food and they’d lost a passenger.

A knot tied itself in his stomach as he remembered how Grace had lashed out at him when they boy took the exit. What did she mean show some respect? The boy with the chrome null and deer had taken the exit- the only people who did that were people too weak to see the truth, yet alone live it like they did. Grace knew that. Didn’t she?

Of course she did! Grace had been on the train longer than him, her number was bigger than his- bigger than anyone's. She was the best. Grace was so capable and clever, brave and responsible, and Grace was also really funny. And kind. And, if he was being honest, beautiful.

And angry at him.

As The Apex’s leaders him and Grace had their disagreements. Grace had initially been against the idea of trying to bring over soil from other cars and grow their own food saying cars not designed for produce wouldn’t let plants grow- apparently she’d read it in her book. And he was always against Grace going off to explore cars by herself. But those were understandable arguments, even if he didn't agree with Grace he could understand her. And he was always safe in the knowledge that beneath all the petty arguments him and Grace believed the same thing. So why had she been so mad at him?

Grace was probably in the pawn shop she’d converted into a storage unit for interesting or valuable items salvaged from train cars. She spent most of her spare time there- reading or working on something. He could go and ask her for an explanation but she didn’t like to be bothered when she was working. And bother her was the last thing he wanted to do if he’d already done something wrong. If only he had an excuse to go talk to her…

Simon sat down on one of the broken escalator’s steps and started idly flicking through the number log. It always brought him a sense of peace and purpose to look at the progress him and the rest of The Apex had made over the years. It was crazy to think he’d started at just 5301. He wondered what Grace’s starting number had been. He flicked through the book but there wasn’t any mention of her name. When he reached his most recent log he realised that no one had ever actually transcribed Grace’s number.

Or at least not until today.

Grace shook the red spray can up and down as she prepared to tag the golden mask she’d ripped off a null.

At first she’d been using it as a disguise but now that The Cat knew it belonged to her there wasn’t any point- she may as well have some fun and decorate it. She taped the stencil over it and started spraying when the bell at what had once been the shop front rang.

Grace heard the unmistakable clink of Simon’s weird partially metal shoes and grinned. She quickly pulled the freshly painted mask over her head and hid behind the door.

Simon gently knocked on the door behind the dusty counter and pushed it open when Grace jumped out at him. The old white t-shirt she wore for painting was splattered with red paint and so was her mask so for one second Simon didn’t recognise her and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Boo!” she said and laughed at his reaction. Simon grinned at her, happy that she wasn’t angry at him anymore and decided to play along.

“Oh no a null!” Simon said with mock horror, “What have you done with Grace, you monster?”

“Something terrible. You should forget about this ‘Grace’- you’ll never see her again.”

“No way.” Simon solemnly placed a hand over his heart, “Grace is unforgettable!”

Grace laughed and removed her mask. “So what are you here for anyway?”

“I was noting down some of the kids numbers after Todd’s went up and I realised that we’ve never actually noted down your number in the log.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“So…” Simon asked sheepishly, “can I?”

“What ,you wanna write it down in your little book thing?”

“Uh. Yes.”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

Grace removed her opera glove, revealing the glowing green digits snaking up into her tshirt’s sleeve. That was new. Simon had been sure that her number only reached her elbow, a little higher than his own one. She tugged the sleeve upwards to expose her angular, dark brown shoulder that was now studded with digits.

“Woah…” was all Simon could say.

“Yeah, pretty cool right? It went up by like, a whole ten thousand when I set the mirror police on that chrome girl. Maybe even more.” Grace said casually while stretching out her arm so Simon could drink in all of it, “It’s okay…” she said smugly, “Admire me…”

“Have you checked if it goes up any higher?”

“What?” Grace smirked, “do you want me to take my shirt off?”

“But of course...”

“Aw stop it. And nah. Just the shoulder. I’d like to get it so big it goes around my neck one day though- like a necklace.” Simon watched Grace draw her hand across her delicate bare neck as she talked, “Wouldn’t that be pretty?

“Yeah.” he said distractedly, “Yeah it would.”

“What about you?”

“Me? Well… So long as I can get mine above yours and wipe your smirk off I’ll be happy.”

Grace snorted, “In your dreams Simon!”

Simon laughed but it stung a little to know that he was forever behind Grace just because she’d been on the train longer. It was maddening to always be the second-in-command, the back up leader if anything happened to her. He wanted to prove to her that he was just as important and capable as her, just as deserving of admiration. The thought of Grace admiring his number suddenly came to him. Wouldn’t it be nice if Grace could look at him the way he looked at her? “I know, I know. Can we start?”

Grace offered her hand to him palm up and he took it. Grace’s hand was warm and soft, and her pale palm was lit emerald green by her number. It had been a long time since they’d touched like this. When they’d first got on the train they’d held hands all the time, the world had changed so suddenly and the train could be so frightening- and they only had each other to hold onto. But they’d stopped doing that for some reason. Maybe because they were older? Things were different now. They had been for a long time but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He ever so slightly squeezed her hand- wondering if she noticed.

If she did she didn’t give any indication and just gently smiled at him as he copied down her number.

“So…” Grace began conversationally, “How are the kids doing?”

“Well I dunno… I think the chrome null shook them up a bit. And so did the other thing that happened.” Simon tried to only vaguely mention Jesse’s exit just in case Grace blew off at him again. It had been a while since they’d been alone together, just like they used to be, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment. “I’m trying to remind them of their progress with their numbers just in case they start getting ideas.”

Grace slowly nodded. “Yeah. That null was so real looking it was scary. You know I honestly thought she was a passenger when I first saw her! Isn’t that funny?”

“Yeah I guess so.Todd said so too, but then he saw that she didn’t have a number and theeen he... went ahead and broke his toe.”

“How is Todd doing anyway? His foot okay?”

“Todd was fine when I saw him- oh!” Simon remembered the main reason he’d even gone to check in on Todd and said with the glow of a proud parent, “His number went up!”

Grace smiled back at him awkwardly.

“Though it went down a bit after I talked to him.” he admitted, “But I promise I didn’t do anything to make it do that!” Simon insisted. “Or I… didn’t do anything on purpose. I-”

“Simon.” Grace’s voice was unusually sharp.

“Yes Grace?”

“Simon I’m… I’m a little concerned.” Grace had always thought of herself as a logical person- nulls had no numbers, people did, so therefore nulls weren’t people. She’d have figured it out even without the book. And people were people. And people were what she cared about. After years of raising kids who started with numbers like 4 or 8 how could she not have faith that everyone could join their ranks? And if everyone could join The Apex, and The Apex was important, that meant everyone was important. But after seeing Simon’s disgust at Jesse taking his exit she’d had the horrible, nagging doubt that Simon wasn’t logical. Or not like her, at least.

Now, she loved Simon’s passion more than anything but he did listen to his heart more than his head. He’d always try to talk her out of exploring cars and complain endlessly when she was gone for longer than he expected for one thing. But if Simon couldn’t understand her logic then logically he needed to be corrected. But illogically, there was nothing Grace wanted to do less than hurt his feelings.

“Now you know that I trust you more than anyone and that you’re not just my second-in-command but my best friend.” She began gently, turning her hand palm down to hold his, “And I care about you because I care about every member of The Apex but well… I guess you especially. And… and that’s why I have to mention that you care too much about the numbers and not enough about the people that have them.”

“What do you mean? Getting our numbers up is the whole point of the Apex- that’s what you believe too. Right?” Simon said uncertainly.

Grace sighed and let go of his hand. “Simon we both know that’s not what I’m talking about. Simon… I didn’t say that The Apex is wrong, and that numbers don’t matter. What I said is that people matter more. If someone has a tiny number they’re still a huge deal, and sometimes… sometimes people are even a zero and choose to take their exits. But they’re still people Simon! They’re still humans- humans that were probably in a lot of pain and loneliness because of what happened to them. We have to respect all of them.”

“I know I know." He muttered, "But you really can’t expect me to believe that someone like, what was his name? Jesse? Someone that let a null take advantage of him and then chose to take the exit is just as important as me or you. Yeah right.” Simon scoffed.

“But Jesse was important." Grace shot back, "It’s not his fault that null took advantage of him- nulls are programmed to trick passengers into getting their numbers down, if anything it’s our fault for not getting to him sooner. Or not getting to him at all. You say Jesse was weak for taking his exit but we were weak for not being able to help him. You can’t pin the blame on some scared kid Simon! It wasn’t his fault that he did what he did. But it was- is ours for letting it happen. And right in front of the other Apex members too!" She said in exasperation, "We might have some… difficult questions to answer. And what happens if some of them decide to get their numbers down thinking they’ll go home?”

“Oh so now it’s fine to want people’s numbers up?" Simon almost yelled, "I don’t understand what you’re saying. Either you’re on my side and getting your number up like the conductor wants is good, or you’re with the nulls and that dumb robot and want everyone kicked off our rightful train!”

Grace hadn't seen Simon get so riled up in a while. She looked at him sadly. Why couldn't he understand her? Simon had always understood her and been so kind. It was almost scary to see him so angry. Couldn't he see he was scaring her?

Why couldn't he think logically?

“Simon… you really don’t get the nuance do you. Simple Simon." She teased but he didn't smile like he normally did, "Okay let me.. Let me think of a way to explain-”

Simon looked away in embarrassment. Now she was talking down to him. He shouldn't have lost his temper like that. “I’m not one of the kids Grace. You can just tell me things straight.”

Grace paused and then said slowly, “Okay then. Let’s say that my number is smaller than yours. It goes down, or it was always like that. What does that mean?”

Simon looked at her in confusion. “Well it… it means that… it means that you… made a mistake?”

“Let’s even say that I have a medium sized number. Only 5 no… 4 digits." Grace calmly continued, "Maybe even 3. Does that change how you view me? How you talk to me and act towards me?”

“No of course not! Grace we’ve known each other for years I’ve seen how capable and talented and..” he stopped himself saying beautiful just in time, “And... smart and strong you are. It wouldn’t change that.”

Grace tried to remain serious but she couldn't help but smile at his flattery. “So… does that mean… that if my number was at 13 you’d still listen to me? And at 12? 11? 10?”

“Yeah yeah. Even at 10 you’d still be Grace, unfortunately for me…"

Grace decided to graciously (ha) not respond to that. “How about at 4?”

“4? Yikes… I’d be lucky to catch you just in time.”

“So you understand that it’s not the numbers you should be looking at, but the people?” Grace asked.

“I suppose I understand. Sort of.”

“And what would you do if…” Grace asked carefully, “if my number reached zero and I got my exit?”

Simon didn't say anything. Grace worried he was going to have another outburst. He looked away from her, silent, and when he looked back he looked so sad Grace was caught off guard.

“If we’re being honest… I-I think I’d cry." Simon said in a sad, serious voice she'd never heard him use before.

"You leaving me and going away like that is just… it’s awful." Simon tried not to show it but whenever Grace left to go explore the train without him, all he could think about was what would happen if she got hurt. Or got found by One One and taken away- away from him. The thought of Grace leaving to never come back made his heart ache. "If you left I’d probably stop caring about The Apex and try get my number down just so I could follow you.” he admitted.

Grace was so shocked she couldn't say anything for a few moments.

“Simon… That’s… Coming from you that’s a lot. I- thank you." Grace reached out and touched his hand again with her numberless left hand. The numbers did affect the skin, specifically how it felt temperature wise, making everything slightly duller. So when she touched him with her normal hand she felt the unfiltered warmth coming off him for the first time, "Me too.”

“Yeah…” Simon said bashfully.

“And you wouldn’t think I was…" Grace hesitated as she remembered what Simon had said about Jesse, "weaker than you if I did make that choice? Worse?”

"I mean I-I wouldn’t be able to understand it, and I’d be so mad at you and so…so... upset and- and lonely. And I’d hate myself for letting that happen to you.” Grace squeezed his hand sympathetically and he slowly squeezed back, “But I wouldn’t ever think that there was something wrong with you."

"Glad to hear I'm flawless!" Grace said smugly.

Simon rolled his eyes and grinned, happy that things were back to normal between them.

“And don’t worry about Todd okay?" Grace said cheerfully, "He kicked that chrome null on impulse and if you get your number up by doing things spur of the moment it goes down really quickly. Because you haven’t really changed who you are at the core, and your number reflects that. Look- my number’s gone down too.”

Grace held out her arm so Simon could see how much her number had shrunk over the course of their conversation. Her shoulder was bare again, and the green numbers stopped in the middle of her upper arm. She'd lost a few hundred at least.

As she looked at her arm Grace suddenly had an image of her number completely vanishing and a thought occurred to her.

“Simon.”

“Graaaace…” he answered playfully.

“What would you do… if I didn’t have a number?”

“You mean if you were what, a null?”

“Yeah. What would you do in that situation? I’m curious...”

“Well uh…" Simon frowned, "I guess I’d have to dislike you, not because of anything personal- but because like… you’d be a null and that’s how we have to treat them. So I guess I’d try to leave you alone. I don’t like it when we have to wheel a null that looks or acts like a person. I know they’re not really real but it’s just- I know that you’re much braver than me and probably never hesitate but it’s just- I just can’t get it out of my head that I’m hurting a kid."

“I’m not braver than you Simon,” Grace said softly, “You’re just as brave as me. I know what you mean I.. I get that too. Doubts and things like that. Don’t get hung up on it.”

Simon got flustered and looked away. “Well jeez. Thanks Grace. I didn’t think you ever had moments of like, I dunno, weakness and stuff like that.”

“I’m only human, Simes. Not like the nulls.”

"I know I know- once they get crushed and the orb comes out and you realise that it was never alive in the first place. It was just pretending to be human, trying to get you to trust it so it could trick you. Makes me absolutely sick. Is that what they think of us humans? Some kind of costume they can wear? Absolutely disgusting.”

Simon remembered the reason they were even talking about this and considered what he’d do if he met a Grace that didn’t have a number.

“But I guess if… if one of them acted like you it’d be different and… and if I had to wheel you then I don’t think I’d be able to do it.”

“I wouldn’t be able to wheel you either.”

“Such flattery!”

“Eh. Don’t get used to it, socks and sandals boy.”

Simon shook his head. “I make one wardrobe error and you never let me forget it.”

Grace gestured at Simon’s entire outfit and raised an eyebrow, “One?”

"Okay maybe I make several wardrobe errors." Simon said stiffly, "but that's rich coming from you, miss whatever those weird tags on your sleeves are."

"I guess we're both pretty awful-" Grace admitted.

"We deserve each other."

"-But you're still worse."

Simon stuck his tongue out at her while Grace reached for her discarded gloves. It wasn’t until she let go of him that she realised they’d been holding hands the whole time- like they used to.

She pulled her gloves back on. Simon watched as the lilac satin covered up her long arms inch by inch until only a few stray digits were uncovered. It was weirdly therapeutic to watch her slide her long fingers in and tug the fabric up. She had such nice arms.

“You know Grace… I always wondered why you wore your gloves when if any of us deserve to show our numbers off it’s you. But I think I can understand now. You don’t want to show it so people won’t treat you weird and like you’re better than them, or something, right?.”

“Yeah pretty much. Plus it can be harder to get past certain nulls if they see how big I’ve grown it- but don’t get me wrong I love showing off my number. I mean look at it- Isn’t it beautiful? Grace pulled the glove back down and raised her arm so that the glow shone over her face, reflected in her dark brown eyes.

“Yes,” said Simon, but he wasn’t looking at her number.

Grace turned away from him and pulled out a box from one of the old shop’s filling cabinets. Simon watched as she started digging through the things she’d salvaged from the cars they raided. Clearly she wanted to get back to her work. Simon closed the number log and begrudgingly got up to leave, sad that whatever intimacy they’d been sharing was already over.

“Where are you going, socks and sandals?”

“Huh?” Simon said, lingering in the door, “Don’t you want some space to focus?”

“No it’s okay. Anyway, I got something for you. I meant to give it to you right after I came back from The Lucky Cat but y’know, stuff happened.”

“You got me a present?!” Simon asked excitedly and Grace grinned. Simon could be such a kid.

“Here,” Grace handed Simon something small wrapped in a candy wrapper. He had to appreciate the thought, even if it meant whatever his gift was it was probably covered in residue candy. “I had to smash a crane game to get it for you so you’d better like it.” He took the wrapper and there was a postman figurine.

“Oh my god he’s perfect! Wow, look at the paint job-” Simon closely inspected his new treasure, “They did the greying bits in his hair and everything- they even did his buttons a different colour! Now that’s what I call attention to detail! I love him, I- thank you Grace.”

“You’re welcome, Simon.” Grace tapped her fingers on the box she’d pulled out. It had been a while since her and Simon had just spent time together just the two of them. Which was to be expected from looking after a horde of squabbling children, and she loved looking after The Apex, but that didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes miss the days when it was just the two of them against the world, exploring the train all by themselves as if no one else existed. Simon probably had things to do and he clearly wanted to get going. If only she had an excuse to talk to him…

“Hey um, if you want I can… show you some other stuff you might like?”

“Really? Sure!” Grace pulled out another filling drawer and started laying out various trinkets, describing what null she had to trick or punch to get each one while Simon watched her.

It was true what Grace said about number’s gained from impulsive or quick decisions- you lost them almost as quickly as you gained them. Grace’s number had unwound itself from her shoulder and was almost level with her elbow again. In order to really get it up you had to build up yourself, put in years of dedication and learning from mistakes, trying your hardest until your true essence shone out of your hand in a beam of pure green. It took years to make a good number, kind of like, Simon supposed, it took years to make a good friendship.

#infinity train #simon infinity train #grace infinity train #infinity train book 3 #infinity train 3 #cartoon network #infinity train fanfiction #grimon #mall rats #mall rats infinity train

26 notes · View notes

your-rose-highness · 4 years

Text

Tell me what is love (ch-8)

Chapter 8

Taeyeon was at her friend’s party when a call from baekhyun surprised her. He never calls unless in emergencies, and mostly they were about Sarang. Excusing herself she made he way out of the crowd before answering him.

“Where’s Sarang?”

“Wow, no hello, no where are you? Sarang is with Heechul Oppa.”

“That’s very responsible of you Tae. Heechul Hyung of all people?

Taeyeon hung up without responding. Baekhyun was being so difficult these days that she was losing her mind. She picked up a drink from the bar and drank it furiously before someone sat beside her.

“Trouble?”, smirked Changmin.

Changmin had always had a soft spot for Taeyeon. When she had just joined the company, he had spotted her as someone with a lot of passion and watching her grow both as an artist and as a person had been a delight for him. When she was dating Baekhyun, he was a little disappointed. He had expected her to focus on her career when she had just begun climbing fame. With the news of her dating and later marriage and children, her popularity had suffered and she had to begin from zero.

“Ah. Oppa. Nothing just, married couple issues, I guess.”, she smiled, taking another sip from her glass.

“Honestly, Tae, don't get me wrong. Why did you rush into this?”

“I told you, I was pregnant.”

“Do you realize how huge of a problem this is? How could you be so careless? You were just at the peak of success.”

“I was scared, Oppa. I was scared and Baekhyun proposed.”

“Did he?”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn't propose to you. Nor did you actually accept.”

“What is the use of thinking about these things? We’re a couple now.”, she sighed. “ Moreover, we have a child now. You know how these things will be twisted now if we decide to separate.”

“I didn't even say that you should. But if that’s what you're even thinking about. Well, there’s a problem, love.”

“But…”

“Look, ill just say this. Before the two of you, no one would have dreamed of marrying and having a baby at this age. Two members of popular idol groups and from the same company. How scandalous is that? But few fans have supported and have stayed loyal. Maybe after divorce, it’ll be another thunderstorm, but if you only you can bear through it. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll be how it was. At least, on the bright side, you won't be as miserable.”

Baekhyun called up Heechul to make sure Sarang was still with him. On confirming, he quickly drove over and brought his daughter home and bathed her.

“What would my princess like for dinner today?”

“Cake!”, Sarang chimed.

“Ey, a cake isn't a meal. What about jjajangmyeon?”

“Yes yes yes”, the little one danced. Baekhyun laughed and quickly began boiling the noodles.

“Sarang do you remember Aunt Hye hee?”

The little girl shook her head silently, while busily trying to climb a chair so that she could see what her father was cooking.

“Well, I met her today and I feel really happy. Kind of how you make me feel, get it? All fuzzy and rainbows.”

“Daddy, I want an elephant.”, Sarang cried.

“What! Of all the things in the world? How about I get you a plushie?”

“Elephant!!”

“Elephant plushie allowed only.”

Baekhyun was always too busy to spend time with his daughter, but when he could he loved playing with her. The last time he was home, Sarang made him playhouse and him to come into her play den for tea and chips. He was tired but playing Sarang was the best thing on the planet for him. Today he was Sarang’s patient as Dr.Sarang checked his temperature.

Taeyeon came home then and Sarang ran over to her mother.

“Hey, you're home.”, baekhyun mumbled, tidying up after Sarang.

“Yeah. did she eat?”

“Yeah. made her some jjajangmyeon. Did you have dinner or should I make you something?”

“I did. Are you free tomorrow?”

“ Yeah. Why?”

“I have a schedule at 4 am tomorrow. Will be back by 3 pm. If you're home, then I don't need to drop her at my mother’s.”

“Cool. no issues.”

That’s it. Silence. This was how the couple spoke to each other. Mostly about Sarang.

The couple went to bed at the same time after months and it was always awkward.

“How’s work?”, asked Taeyeon

“Good.”, he sighed, “the agency wants us to begin individual projects now. So, I’m thinking about finally trying to get that solo, you know.”

“Baekhyun do you think we are okay?”, she blurted.

Baekhyun looked at her blankly, knowing very well what this was about.

“I really think we should talk about this. Not just for us, but for Sarang. We can't let our issues get to her.”, she continued when baekhyun didn't answer.

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm? C,mon baekhyun!” she exclaimed, agitated

“I don't know what to say.”

“Do you still love me?”, she asked, turning towards him.

Her blunt question startled him and he was caught off guard.

“Look, we… I don't know…”, her voice trailed as she tried to find words.

“Do you think we should separate?”, he asked softly, still unable to meet her eyes.

“I mean if that would make us less miserable, yes.”

“It’ll get very complicated.”

“It will. But I think we can support each other on this one thing, don't you think? We got married against everyone’s wishes too. It was difficult but we overcame it all.”

“The company, our members, the team..?”

“Seriously, baekhyun? Will this matter when its too late? We’re miserable right now. Coming home shouldn’t have to be this stressful.”, Taeyeon stated.

“Do you currently like someone else?”

“What?”, Taeyeon turned to him furious. “Is that why you think I’m asking for a divorce? Wow, I can't believe I got married to you. No wonder Hye hee left you so easily. You're still a child, baekhyun.”, she spewed, hurt. Picking up her coat and purse, she rushed out of the bedroom without glancing back.

Baekhyun quietly peeped into his daughter’s room finding her peacefully asleep. He sat by her bed once again, resting his head beside hers.

“Sarang. My little princess. I wanted to be everything I couldn't for you. But look here, what do we have? A loser. I've done everything for this life I have and have lost everything in return. Now, possibly, your parents will gamble a happy normal family for you. Are we too selfish? I can say I’ve pushed it this far. I’m at fault. She’s right, I’ve dealt with this almost childishly. But was it all my mistake? Or was it fate? I’ve lost everything. Everything.” baekhyun sobbed uncontrollably.

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

“Hey good morning, hye hee”, Jaebeom welcomed her with a smile when she visited them the next morning.

Hye hee felt extremely apologetic towards him for Baekhyun’s behavior yesterday, but Jaebeom had been more than okay.

“It’s fine! He might have been surprised to see me. Also, celebs are afraid to be seen right. Green smoothie?”

“What with leaves?”

“Where else will it get its pretty green hue from? Hahaha. Don't worry, it won't taste bad, I’ll add berries in it. Jaein is still in bed, by the way, she made me watch reruns of harry potter last night with her. We watched the first three, after which I had to force her to go to bed. Can you imagine? A patient!”

The kitchen seemed different with Jaebeom moving around. Hye hee had been so used to just jane in this house, and the world knew she never cooks. She set the bunch of tulips she got for jane in a glass. Tulips were jane’s absolute favorite. She never had a specific color preference, so hye hee got her a mix and match of the colors at the florist.

“They certainly do brighten up the space.”,Jaebeom’s voice startled her.

“Oh sorry. Here’s your smoothie.”

“Wow, really vibrant.”, hye hee chuckled.

They sat at the dinner table while sipping on the smoothies. He was right, it didn't have that bad healthy taste that green smoothies usually did.

“So, you're also a journalist?”, asked Jaebeom.

“Yes, journalist aspiring to be a writer someday.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’m a video producer.”

“Wow, anything I could have seen that you produced?”

Turns out, Jaebeom had worked with many filmmakers and also assisted music video producers.

“No, I’ve never worked with the artists directly. You see my work is mainly behind the scenes. Once my team receives the tape, we edit and add effects. It takes months at times, depending on the company’s reference.”

“That’s super cool. I've always wanted to learn how to edit.”

“Maybe I could teach you sometime. Of course, the professional level will take longer.”

“Oh, no. the basics are just fine for me.”

“What about you? Where are you working right now?”

“I got sacked out of my old one. The company went bankrupt. I’m trying to find another one right now, but no luck so far.”

“Would you consider working for scriptwriters by any chance?”

“Yes! Anything at this point.”

“Alright, I’ll get back to you after I speak to them. Last I heard they were looking for an assistant scriptwriter. You have a good typing speed too. A bonus.”

He hadn't mentioned anything about yesterday’s occurrences and it made her fidgety.

“Are we going to ignore what happened?”

“Hmm?”, he innocently asked, genuinely surprised.

“About baekhyun?”

“Oh! Look, I need to admit, I didn't fully trust you when you said you were friends with an EXO member, but seeing Baekhhyun did startle me. I did a google search about him after coming home. He has a daughter, eh? He’s quite young for being a dad.”

“Yeah. they had her immediately after marriage.”

“Yeah… you don't quite see that in the entertainment business. You were friends, right?”

“Best friends since middle school.” she stated.

“Whoa, now that’s something.” he smirked.

“What?”

“I’m sorry if I seem intrusive, but did you guys date?”, he asked, a smile on his lips.

Hye hee was taken aback by his question. How did he know?

“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes. Yeah, it did seem as such.”

“He was just worried about me, with the things happening”

“Probably.” Jaebeom softly said, the smile still playing on his lips.

She loaded her guns to shoot back answers when Jane entered the room. She looked very weak, now that could be because of the medicines or that she didn't sleep enough last night.

“Hello, my dear muggles.”, she croaked as she took a seat beside hye hee hugging her.

“I heard about your Hogwarts adventures.”, hye hee chuckled.

“Good. now that you're here, you’ll stay the night and watch the rest with me. You like the 4th movie anyway.”

“Yeah, that's great, another night with no sleep.”,Jaebeom cheekily added.

Baekhyun hadn't called her all day and it bothered hye hee a little. Suho might have said something to him about it. Had he known that baekhyun spent the night at hye hee’s? Though she wasn't home, a spectator would add things differently.

Jaebeom stepped out to get some groceries when she decided to spill everything to her best friend.

“So, you suspect this could be a fan’s doing?”, jane guessed.

“Why else would people patrol outside my house? They are not even sure how I look seeing they attacked you.”

“This is dangerous. You should talk to baekhyun about this. I’m shocked that he didn't see this coming. But, hey, on the bright side, he still has fans.”, she joked.

“What should I do?”

“Nothing. As Suho said, try to keep a bit of a distance. You are too caught up in your head with him. Live your life a little, please? Baekhyun isn't everything. He has his life spread out before him and it looks glorious. What about you? You’re still focused on him.”

When hye hee didn't answer, Jane continued, “I’m sorry if I was too blunt, but this is the truth and you have to face it sometime.”, she clarified, softly caressing her arm.

“I know, you mean well. I guess you’re right.” hye hee exhaled.

“Not taking the SM job then?”

“Actually your brother said he’d try to talk me up with his scriptwriters. Maybe it’ll work, fingers crossed.”

“Jaebeom? My brother? Actually, that reminds me, it’s kind of odd to see my brother so friendly with you. He’s usually very quiet, a stark opposite of me.”

“He’s been very kind, even though he half wanted to kill me after he found that you were in the hospital because of me.”, hye hee giggled.

“Now that sounds more like him.”, jane laughed.

Hye hee decided to spend the day at Jane’s after having lunch that Jaebeom bought for them. Jane was happy to have people in the house after so long that her brother decided to stay as well. It was quite a fulfilling day. The siblings shared each other’s embarrassing stories, Jaebeom played his guitar, turns out he has a very attractive voice as well.

After dinner, they all curled up to watch the rest of the harry potter movies. Halfway through the fifth part, Jaebeom realized jane was asleep with her head on hye hee’s lap. He carried her to her room and joined hye hee to finish the rest of the movie.

“Whoa. that is intense every time I watch it.”, sighed hye hee.

“Another Potterhead?”

“I cried when I didn't get my Hogwarts acceptance letter.”

After a while, the two of them decided to get some hot chocolate before bed.

“You're lucky! I bought marshmallows today.”,Jaebeom chirped looking through the grocery bag. Meanwhile hye hee made the hot comforting drink, taking it out to the balcony, where they sipped the hot drink with the gentle cool breeze touching their skin.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”, Jaebeom asked, still looking ahead.

“No. not right now.”

“What a pity. Any man would be lucky to have you. I’m sure you've been asked out.”, he met her eyes. Hye hee was mesmerized and something about him seemed to draw her out of her shell.

“I wasn't ready.”, she simply put.

“Ah. no one quite reached your heart, then.”, he said letting out a throaty chuckle. “I get that, it’s quite the same for me. I see no point in dating for the sake of it. Unless its someone that stirs up your heart in ways unknown to yourself.” he glanced at her again, with the sweetest smile ever.

“Alright. I’m off to sleep. If you need anything, I’m here in the living room.”, he wearily said.

She watched him grab his bedding and spread it on the floor, as the couch was too small for him. Something about Jaebeom was very enticing to her, almost addictive. Shaking away her bothersome thoughts, she decided to call it a night. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day for everyone.

14 notes · View notes

kaesaaurelia · 3 years

Text

books and reading in 2021

Overall I’d like to read at least 65 books for 2021 and I’d like for most of those to be new-to-me and things I either already own or have listed as to-read on Goodreads.

So far I have read 11/65 books and 4 fanworks.

Themed reading challenge checklists and brief book reviews are under the cut. I may or may not finish any of these challenges; again, my goal is to cut down my to-be-read list and unread books I own, and themes and deadlines help me pick a book rather than hemming and hawing.

Book reviews answer the questions “Did I like it? Was it good? Would I recommend it?” (please note these are very different questions) and how many stars I rated it.

I may put fanfiction, webfiction, and other things that are very much not traditional books down on here as well, depending on how booklike I’ve decided they are.

The FFA reading challenge, 2021 (2/12 books)

JANUARY - The Pandemic Year - a medical thriller, or a book about medicine The Poisoner's Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York by Deborah Blum Did I like it? Yeah! Was it good? I think so. Sometimes the prose meandered in such a way that I felt the author was kind of saying dun dun dun! under her breath at me, and I was like “idk, is that significant?” but usually it was good. Would I recommend it? Do you have a strong stomach? Then sure. 4 stars

FEBRUARY - Macavity/Ratigan - a genre you wouldn't normally read Jane Doe by Victoria Helen Stone, book 1 in the Jane Doe series Did I like it? Yes! Very much! The power fantasy of being able to take vengeance against people who hurts your loved ones, without feeling bad about it, was really appealing to me, a person who feels guilt over a frankly ridiculous number of things. It was also genuinely funny. Was it good? I thought so. The narrator had a really strong voice that struck the right balance between creepy cold indifference and endearing little moments of self-discovery. Would I recommend it? Yes, but with the caveat that there’s some pretty serious emotional abuse of the protagonist’s false persona (which she encourages and privately gloats about), and she also gets close to committing serious violence, including fantasizing at length about it. 5 stars

MARCH – 100+ Comments of Terror - a book set in the arctic, or a book about an expedition In the Land of White Death: An Epic Story of Survival in the Siberian Arctic by Valerian Albanov (ordered)

APRIL - Sexy John Oliver Rat – a book about animals, or a book with a character called Oliver or Olivia A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling (hardcover)

MAY - A Feud in Wolf-Kink Erotica - a book involving wolves, the legal system, or ripped from the headlines Song of the Summer King by Jess Owen (ebook)

JUNE - Showerhead Wank - a comedy of manners, an etiquette manual, or a book where someone wanks or has sex

JULY – My Shithead Is What You Are! - a book with profanity in it, or a book about themes of censorship

AUGUST - Yep, Still Indoors - a book involving travel, or being stuck in one place

SEPTEMBER - Socktopus, Maybe? - a book where someone has a secret identity, or a book about aquatic animals

OCTOBER - Politics is Sequestered – a book involving politics or politicians Boss: Richard J. Daley of Chicago by Mike Royko (owned in DRM’d ebook)

NOVEMBER - It's Canon in Spanish - read a book originally written in Spanish, or set in Latin America

DECEMBER - Apple Is a One Syllable Word - a book about language/linguistics/etc., or a book with a two syllable title.

Around the Year in 52 Books (8/52 books)

A book related to “In the Beginning...”: (Using the subprompt a book set in the ancient world) The Odyssey by Homer, translated by Emily Wilson Did I like it? Yes; it was definitely a less comfortable read than prior translations I have read, but a more interesting one, I think. A lot of details leapt out at me that I had either forgotten or that had been overlooked in the 3ish literature classes I have read the Odyssey for. Was it good? Yes! Would I recommend it? Probably, with the caveat that if you are just in it for a cool mythology story you would probably prefer an adaptation rather than a translation. 5 stars

A book by an author whose name doesn't contain the letters A, T or Y The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis Did I like it? I really read this for the worldbuilding of Hell, so I liked that; to some extent I did also like some of the musings on how a lot of human foibles that people like to think of as virtues can actually be kind of shitty. On the other hand, Lewis and I disagree about a lot of things -- mostly that whole Christianity thing. So I liked it with caveats. Was it good? It was okay! Again, I was not really there for the Christianity stuff. I am never there for the Christianity stuff. I am either precisely the wrong audience for all of C.S. Lewis’ stuff, or, if you look at it a certain way, precisely the right audience, but even if you look at it that way, he is never going to convince me; I wrote furious postcanon fanfiction about the dwarfs when I reread the Narnia books as a teenager and realized they were meant to represent people like me. Would I recommend it? Probably not? Unless you frequently write demons or other evil creatures trying to figure out how humans work, which I guess I am. 4 stars but only because that reveal at the end is great

A book related to the lyrics for the song "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music (The cover depicts a rose with raindrops or dewdrops on it.) Ensnared by Rita Stradling Did I like it? In a sense. In a sense, I enjoyed this book. It was a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and I like Beauty and the Beast. There were robots, and I like robots. And it certainly gave me something fun to talk about. However, it also inspired me to try and figure out when and why I acquired this book, and while I still don’t know why I bought it, I was relieved to find that I only paid 99 cents for it. For a more thorough description of the plot, please see my Goodreads review. It was a weird book to start with, and then it really, really didn’t age well. Was it good? IT SURE WASN’T. Would I recommend it? No. However, if you decide to read it I’d love to hear what you think. Please. Please talk to me about this book. 2 stars

A book with a monochromatic cover The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America by Erik Larson Did I like it? Yes, very much! Also it accidentally became fic research. I genuinely was just thinking “where do I slip Leonard into this narrative so he can try and fail to sabotage the Ferris Wheel?” and then I began to think about how much Leonard would admire and envy H. H. Holmes’ ladykilling ways. But in general it was a really good read and had a lot of... Chicagoness, which I of course am fond of. Was it good? I thought so! Obviously a lot of the narratives of Holmes’ murders were mostly the author’s speculation, but there were a lot of great research tidbits in there, and the picture the author paints of the World’s Fair was vivid and wonderful. Would I recommend it? Yes, with the warning that this is true crime and there is vivid narration of several murders, including the murders of several children. 5 stars

A book by an author on USA Today's list of 100 Black Novelists You Should Read Wild Seed by Octavia Butler, book 1 of the Patternmaster series Did I like it? Yes, but it was intense. It takes a lot of skill to keep me reading and invested through so many horrors; the protagonist’s children and loved ones die on-page multiple times, in horrible accidents or senselessly murdered, and it hurts every time, but I kept reading. Admittedly I am (predictably) extremely here for immortal enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies angst, so that was probably part of it. Was it good? Yes! I am kind of sad that I’m not just moving on to the next in the series (there are 3 more books), but also, god, I’m not sure I could handle it. Would I recommend it? Yes, definitely, with the caveat that it is very dark and very sad. 5 stars

A love story Deal with the Devil by Kit Rocha, book 1 of the Mercenary Librarians series Did I like it? It was good! I gather both of the authors who are Kit Rocha were (are still?) in fandom, and it shows in the right ways; it doesn’t shy away from depicting sex pretty explicitly but there’s a lot of emotion in it, and the main couple is a m/f couple without the book being unpleasantly heteronormative. Like, yeah, it’s about a big butch macho dude who’s broken inside and a woman who’s very caring, but the big butch macho dude is genuinely kind and not like, violent for the hell of it or overprotectively jealous, and the woman doesn’t drop everything to Heal His Pain. (Also I think most of the characters, including the romantic leads, are established to have had same-gender lovers at one point or another without that being considered unusual or wrong in the setting, so that’s nice.) It’s also a cheerful and optimistic post-apocalyptic book about two found families coming together to make the world a better place, despite the very grim backstories of pretty much everyone in the story, which is really nice. Was it good? It was okay. It was good popcorny reading; it’s not winning any literature prizes, but it sets out to be fun and readable and exciting, and it is all of those things. Also, as noted above, the prose has a lot of the strengths of fanfic (not being afraid to mix genres, not being afraid of writing sex earnestly and emotionally but also explicitly, strong emotional focus) without the much-derided stereotypical weaknesses of fanfic. Would I recommend it? Probably? This isn’t a must-read; it’s happy to be idfic so if it sounds like it’d scratch your id I would recommend it, but it might not be Your Thing and that’s okay too. 4 stars

A book that fits a prompt suggestion that didn't make the final list (Using the subprompt a book related to a local industry or small business) The Gangs of Chicago: An Informal History of the Chicago Underworld by Herbert Asbury Did I like it? NO. NO I DID NOT. It made me genuinely angry. It was a useful read for fic research and unfortunately I’ve got it in my little fic-writing reference material corner in my office but I DID NOT LIKE THIS BOOK IT WAS VERY BAD. Many questionable or outright incorrect assertions and implications, and extremely racist and sexist. For details, see my review on Goodreads. Was it good? It was actively bad. Would I recommend it? Not unless you are interested in it historiographically, or on the off chance that you are trying to find some fiddly details about a particular bit of Chicago crime history, but also have no responsibility to make sure those fiddly details are correct when you use them in the project. 1 star

A book set in a state, province, or country you have never visited The Last Duel: A True Story of Crime, Scandal, and Trial by Combat in Medieval France by Eric Jager Did I like it? It was okay. It was definitely interesting but not amazingly life-changing. Was it good? It was fine! I did think the underlying rape case was handled surprisingly sensitively given that this was a male author writing about 20 years ago about a medieval rape accusation and trial, but there is a chapter that is basically just the victim’s account of her rape, and it’s very brutal. Would I recommend it? Do you want to understand more about trial by combat in the Middle Ages, and/or learn about how medieval people treated rape victims? You should definitely read this book. But if that doesn’t particularly interest you, probably not. 3 stars

A book you associate with a specific season or time of year Summers at Castle Auburn (ebook borrowed from CPL)

A book with a female villain or criminal Sin in the Second City: Madams, Ministers, Playboys, and the Battle for America's Soul by Karen Abbott (owned in paperback)

A book to celebrate The Grand Egyptian Museum The Oasis by Pauline Gedge (ebook)

A book eligible for the Warwick Prize for Women in Translation The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa (on hold at CPL; est. 3 week wait)

A book written by an author of one of your best reads of 2020 The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow (on hold at CPL; est. 10 week wait???)

A book set in a made-up place Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey (paperback)

A book that features siblings as the main characters Sisters One, Two, Three by Nancy Star (ebook)

A book with a building in the title

A book with a Muslim character or author

3 books related to "Past, Present, Future" - Book 1

3 books related to "Past, Present, Future" - Book 2

3 books related to "Past, Present, Future" - Book 3

A book whose title and author both contain the letter "u"

A book posted in one of the ATY Best Book of the Month threads

A cross genre novel

A book about racism or race relations

A book set on an island

A short book (<210 pages) by a new-to-you author

A book with a character who can be found in a deck of cards

A book connected to ice

A book that you consider comfort reading

A long book

A book by an author whose career spanned more than 21 years

A book whose cover shows more than 2 people

A collection of short stories, essays, or poetry

A book with a travel theme

A book set in a country on or below the Tropic of Cancer

A book with six or more words in the title

A book from the Are You Well Read in World Literature list

A book related to a word given by a random word generator

A book involving an immigrant

A book with flowers or greenery on the cover

A book by a new-to-you BIPOC author

A mystery or thriller

A book with elements of magic

A book whose title contains a negative

A book related to a codeword from the NATO Phonetic Alphabet

A winner or nominee from the 2020 Goodreads Choice Awards

A non-fiction book other than biography, autobiography or memoir

A book that might cause someone to react “You read what?!?” Missing 411: Eastern United States by David Paulides (terrible pdf copy I’m not paying $100 for a book about extradimensional bigfoot)

A book with an ensemble cast

A book published in 2021

A book whose title refers to person(s) without giving their name

A book related to "the end"

There’s No Business Like Snow Business February Reading Challenge (8/8)

Snow is precipitation in the form of small white ice crystals formed directly from the water vapor of the air at a temperature of less than 0°C (32°F).

Read a book that has snow on the cover or snow in the title. Killing Dragons: The Conquest of the Alps by Fergus Fleming Did I like it? It was okay. There was more about the personalities involved in early mountaineering than I did about actual mountain-climbing, which was fine, but didn’t get really exciting until those personalities got really dysfunctional. Was it good? Again, it was okay. The prose wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t gripping, and there was some odd (lack of) translation on occasion. The research seemed thorough and solid, though. Would I recommend it? Not really, unless you are specifically looking to research the Alps or early European mountain-climbing enthusiasts for a writing project or something, in which case, of course. 3 stars

Precipitation: Read a book that has any weather related term in the title. Trail of Lightning, book 1 of The Sixth World, by Rebecca Roanhorse Did I like it? Yes! This took me back to my first forays into urban fantasy as a preteen/young teen. I loved the Diana Tregarde books and also Harry Turtledove’s The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump, and whenever I want urban fantasy that’s kind of the pattern I’m looking for? An unfriendly world full of myths that are real and living and breathing and otherworldly but also they are probably trying to bum a cigarette off you. I haven’t reread my favorite childhood urban fantasy because I think it probably won’t hold up, and later urban fantasy has mostly been not quite what I wanted, but this book was like being that kid all over again. I’m not super familiar with Dine folklore/mythology so it was neat to learn a little bit about that, too, although obviously to learn those stories maybe don’t go to an urban fantasy novel. Was it good? It was pretty good! The prose wasn’t like, stylistically exciting, but it conveyed the plot well, and I did like the narrative voice, and the characterization was good, I thought. Would I recommend it? Absolutely. Content warning for violence (as per urban fantasy) and a child dies violently early on in the book, but if you were the kind of kid I was but you’re not really into paranormal romance or Harry Dresden, give it a try. 4 stars

Small: Read a book that has less than 200 pages. A Butt in the Mist: Stirred to the Core of My Bodice by the Duchess Triceratops of Helena by Chuck Tingle Did I like it? I mostly did, but it wasn’t super exciting. I liked the free book afterwards better. It was funny, but Chuck’s been funnier. Was it good? This 4,000 word book was written with all the quality and attention to detail that I have come to expect from beloved author Chuck Tingle. Would I recommend it? Not really? It was funny, but I think I like his more metafictional stuff better, and I think he gets a lot weirder with his m/m stuff; if I’m reading Chuck Tingle, I want it to be weird. 3 stars

Snow is formed of crystals and is a slang term for diamonds. Read a book in which a gem or other mineral can be found in the plot, title, or cover art. Ombria in Shadow by Patricia A. McKillip Did I like it? Mostly! I love the lush visuals of McKillip’s prose; they more than live up to the also gorgeous covers. Dreamy fairytale stuff but with solid emotions and a good sense of place. Was it good? I think so, although the dreamlike quality of the prose does mean you’re liable to miss something if your attention drifts. Would I recommend it? Yes, I think so. 5 stars

Snow is a dessert made of stiffly beaten whites of eggs, sugar, and fruit pulp. Read a book with a dessert on the cover, or read a book in which a dessert is made. Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder by Joanne Fluke, book 1 of the Hannah Swensen series Did I like it? I enjoyed parts of it, but I thought it really suffered at the beginning, when our introduction to the detective was “not like other girls, not interested in DATING and MEN” and our introduction to her older sister is “she was a DITZY CHEERLEADER and now she’s married with a kid but she’s a HORRIBLE CAREER HARPY who WORKS ALL DAY and puts her child in DAYCARE and CAN’T COOK” and that was all just very tiresome. The sister does turn out to have redeeming qualities and useful interests, but the way these two and their mother interact is all like, if you were asking yourself whether there’s such a thing as toxic femininity and what that would look like, it’s these women. Aside from that, it was fine; it was a cozy mystery novel about a bakery specializing in cookies. I will say, I did appreciate the Midwesternness of the small town Midwest setting. Was it good? Not really. I did kind of have to handwave a lot to let the detective get away with all the HIPAA violations and crime scene disturbing that she does, but it is a cozy mystery. Would I recommend it? Probably not; I’ve heard this series gets better so if you’re interested in the series and/or like the idea of cookie-themed cozies, maybe start with a different book, unless you’re a completist like I am. 3 stars

Snow is slang for cocaine. Read a book about drugs or drug addiction. The Man With the Golden Arm by Nelson Algren Did I like it? It was not a fun read, by any means, but Algren’s prose is fantastic and it was such a novelty to see such a familiar accent represented by eye dialect. (Which I know has fallen out of fashion and is considered the mark of a bad writer, but I really don’t mind it if it’s done well.) It’s one of those books where nobody has a fair shake and everybody is doomed, but it doesn’t feel gratuitous. All the characters are horrible to each other, but in fairness they are also horrible to themselves; it’s all they’ve ever known. Was it good? Yes. It was extremely good and I’m considering buying a physical copy so I can write things in the margins. This is actually really weird for me to do; in high school we occasionally had to turn our books in so our teacher could be sure we were writing in them Correctly, and I found it a little painful, but I did want to do it with this book. Would I recommend it? Yes, if you’re up for a really depressing story about heroin addiction and poverty. 5 stars

White is the color of snow. Read a book that contains white in the cover. The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin Did I like it? I definitely did. I haven’t read much Le Guin yet for some reason, and while this did initially start off feeling exactly like just another ‘70s SF story where in the future we’ve solved all of psychology and it’s super mechanistic, it was really fascinating and surprisingly, unpleasantly prescient. Was it good? I thought so! There were some parts of it that were pretty awkward about race, from a 2021 perspective, but it does actually deal with race in a way that made me think “yes, that’s exactly what would happen as a consequence of this plot, and it would be horrible, oh no, oh shit,” and it is horrible. Would I recommend it? I am not sure I would! I would recommend it in like five years, assuming those five years are not much like the last five years. Hoping and praying that those five years are not much like the last five, really. The premise of the book -- which I haven’t explained, I realize -- is that in this near-future environmental dystopia, the main character can change things in real life by dreaming about them, and he would like to not do that, only he is put under the care of a psychiatric researcher who tries to play God. So this poor man literally wakes up every day to a brand new dystopia and it felt... familiar. 4 stars

To snow someone is to deceive, persuade, or charm glibly. Read a book about a con artist, or read a book about deception. Empire of Deception: The Incredible Story of a Master Swindler Who Seduced a City and Captivated the Nation by Dean Jobb Did I like it? I did. I have joked that my own personal reading challenge this year is to fill up the Chicago shelf/tag on my Goodreads account, and this book was recommended to me in that spirit, and I always like hearing about a. Chicago; b. the 1920s; and c. con men conning people. Was it good? The prose was fine; it was fun but I think the thing I appreciated most was all the punny newspaper headlines. Would I recommend it? If you are someone who perks up at the sound of at least 2 out of 3 of the themes of “Chicago,” “1920s,” and “con men,” yes. 4 stars

2021 Q1 challenge: Changes (3/20)

Read a book that features:

The word "change" (Changes, Changing, or other variations) in its title. Weeds: How Vagabond Plants Gatecrashed Civilisation and Changed the Way We Think About Nature by Richard Mabey Did I like it? It was all right. I like hearing about plant history, and the chapter on plants unexpectedly surviving/thriving on battlefields and bombing sites was particularly interesting to me. Was it good? It was okay, but kind of poorly-organized; there were chapter themes but it felt awfully stream-of-consciousness sometimes. Would I recommend it? Maybe not unless you’re really into botany and Western anthropology. (As in, the study of Western cultures; this book does not do much with other cultures.) 3 stars

The theme of money or money on its cover (loose change). Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik Did I like it? I really, really liked it to the point that I feel kind of silly about it, gotta say. I’m really, really hit or miss on the author’s work (both fanfic and profic) but the themes of this were perfect for me; Russian fairytales, a cynical but earnest sort of Judaism, creepy fairy abductions, interesting worldbuilding, and women coming together to help each other. (Also some interesting enemies-to-lovers stuff that wasn’t really developed on the “lovers” side, which I would have dug. Like its precursor, this book has a lot of f/f friends-to-lovers subtext and hostile canon het.) Was it good? I don’t know? I liked it enough that I genuinely don’t know if it was well-written. Would I recommend it? I would, but I’m not sure you should trust me on this??? Again, this book really, really hit me in the id. 5 stars

An adaptation of its original format (book-to-manga, translation, etc.) Murder on the Rockport Limited! by Clint McElroy et al Did I like it? It was okay, but not nearly as good as the original podcast’s murder train arc. The art was good and all, but, eh. Was it good? It was fine. I’m not sure how into the DM/character conversations I am, and I found myself having to pause and reimagine the dialogue in the various McElroys’ voices, which wasn’t good because it meant I wasn’t automatically reading them in those voices in my head, which is a major litmus test I use when I’m deciding whether I want to keep reading a fanfic. Would I recommend it? Definitely not as a standalone thing. 3 stars

The author's initials found in the word "change" Helen of Sparta by Amalia Carosella (in progress)

Separate book sections or part of a series of three or more books (make change) The Seduction of the Crimson Rose by Lauren Willig (in progress)

An author or character writing under a pseudonym The Maker’s Mask by Ankaret Wells (in progress)

A topic or character about which you feel differently now than in the past. La Belle Sauvage by Phillip Pullman

Changing one's mind about a life decision. A Tapestry of Magics by Brian Daley

Switching careers/jobs. The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

Relocating to a different city, state/province, or country. Fire Season: Field Notes from a Wilderness Lookout by Philip Connors

Cultivating new daily habits. How to Be Fine by Jolenta Greenberg and Kristen Meinzer

A character who shifts shapes or identities. The Lie: A Memoir of Two Marriages, Catfishing & Coming Out by William Dameron

Life changes due to age Two Old Women: An Alaskan Legend of Betrayal, Courage, and Survival by Velma Wallis

A medical transformation Specials by Westerfield, Scott

A life-changing experience. Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, & the Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright

A changing household The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, A Rún, Volume 1 by Nagabe

An action or phenomenon that transforms society or the world. Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression by Studs Terkel

Replacing one thing with another (change out) In Vino Duplicitas: The Rise and Fall of a Wine Forger Extraordinaire by Peter Hellman & Charles Constant

Technological innovation Tubes: A Journey to the Center of the Internet by Andrew Blum

A game-changer. The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914 by Christopher Clark

Fanfic Reading Challenge recs (1)

I have a private checklist with the fanfic reading challenge data, but will not be sharing all of the fics; fanfiction is generally an amateur endeavor, and many people do not enjoy receiving (or stumbling across) criticism of their work. Bad reviews are normal and accepted as part of commercial publishing, and professional authors (hopefully!) get paid for their work, so I’m comfortable criticizing published novels. I would prefer not to publicly criticize someone’s writing when they are just writing for the joy of it, especially since some of the tasks require me to read first-time authors’ fics, fics with relatively low kudos counts, fics for ships I don’t like, etc. So I’m only putting the recs here.

Romancing the Tome by Anti_kate Good Omens; Aziraphale/Crowley; ~40k words; rated Explicit Romance novelist Aziraphale Wilder is pulled from his carefully ordered life when his sister is kidnapped and held to ransom. With the help of antiquities forger Anthony J Crowley, he braves the wilds of Scotland to rescue her and keep a priceless book from falling into the hands of dangerous book thieves. Did I like it? Yes! It was cheesy and cute and basically what I want out of this kind of romcom AU fic. I’m not normally into human AUs and this one wasn’t like, super deep or anything, but it was very fun. Was it good? I thought so! The dialogue was great, I enjoyed the characterization, the sex was good. I do think the Crowley in this fic is pretty self-loathing in a way that I don’t see canon Crowley being at all, but I have a weakness for that and I also think self-loathing works for a human version of Crowley. One thing it doesn’t shy away from is Crowley doing genuinely awful stuff (instead of being a misunderstood woobie) and yet the resolution is sweet and lovely anyway. Would I rec it? Yes! Go read this fic. It’s fast-paced but long enough to be worth settling in to read, it’s funny, and it’s sweet. 5 stars

In Holy Matrimony by Myracuulous Good Omens; Aziraphale/Crowley; ~6.7k words; rated General From the private journal of Alisha Jones, wedding planner, concerning the nuptials of Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale and the planning process thereof, containing an account of chosen decor, guest list construction, and the holy war against the Antichrist that nearly ruined six months of professional organization and a very nice dinner. Did I like it? Yes! It was extremely cute, and I always really like outsider POV. I did appreciate the fact that poor Alisha definitely knew something was definitely weird, but kept telling herself not to question it because a gorgeous wedding with an unlimited budget and zero issues with scheduling, catering, guest limits, etc. is a great problem to have. Was it good? It was pretty good! The climax and wrap-up felt a bit rushed, mostly due to the limits of outsider POV, but I did enjoy Aziraphale unexpectedly embracing his inner groomzilla while also being unfailingly sweet about it. Would I rec it? Yup, especially if you want wedding comedy/fluff and outsider POV

Wrong Turn by anticyclone Good Omens; Aziraphale/Crowley; ~38k words; rated Teen And Up Lots and lots of somethings are wrong. First, Crowley's nearly hit by a car. Then he almost brains himself tripping over new and excessive piles of books at the bookshop. To add insult to near-injury, Aziraphale starts throwing knives at him. Safe to say his day could be going better.

The thing that's the most wrong of all is the universe, of course. In this one there was never an Arrangement. Aziraphale and Anthony (they can't both be 'Crowley') aren't friends and they certainly never agreed to prep for Armageddon. Unfortunately, the end of the world is two days away.

So that's something Crowley really has to fix before they can figure out how to get him home. Did I like it? Oh yes. I had read bits of this on ffa previously, and also anticyclone is a good writer (and a friend) so like, I was expecting it to be good; I was not disappointed. Was it good? Yes! I was particularly impressed at how much alternate backstory is set up in little hints here and there, and then explained more thoroughly in ways that take the AU Aziraphale and Crowley by surprise when they do finally get to talking. Would I rec it? Yes! Especially if you like a nice dose of enemies-to-lovers along with your friends-to-lovers, and also the awkwardness of meeting your alternate universe self.

Finished in January, not for reading challenges (3 books):

The Way of Kings, book 1 of The Stormlight Archive, by Brandon Sanderson Did I like it? It was fine. Was it good? I think so. I am maybe not the best audience for epic fantasy at this point, partly because I’ve read a lot of it and partly because I habitually read 3-7 books at once at any given time. Would I recommend it? Maybe, but I feel like most of the people who would enjoy it have probably heard of it already. 3 stars

Get a Wiggle On, a Good Omens fanzine Did I like it? Yup! Was it good? Mostly, although as usual with zines and anthologies, quality varies piece by piece. Of the fics I particularly liked “A Head Above Water,” “The Grapes of Mild Irritation,” and “Concerning the Great Serpent Glykon and the Angel Clothed With the Sun,” all of which are now available on AO3. Would I recommend it? If you like snakey Crowley, yes. 4 stars

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne Did I like it? Yes, very much! A very silly thing I particularly liked (which unfortunately you cannot really replicate) is that the edition I have is an illustrated hardcover book from 1926 which I picked up cheap at a used bookstore, knowing I would like it because Jules Verne. I didn’t think much about that specific date when I bought it, but I am now writing a fic set in 1926, with a character who has a habit of reading adventure novels and who I have specifically mentioned enjoyed Jules Verne in his childhood, so when I discovered the date the coincidence made me very happy. The book itself smells very nice, it’s nice to hold, and as I was reading it I kept thinking about what Danny would think of the book, and whether he would try reading it aloud to Crowley, and wondering if the book smelled as nice in 1926 as it does now. Maybe I will have Aziraphale give this book to him as a very small thank-you for all he has done to keep Crowley alive and well. Was it good? For the most part. Jules Verne is prone to wandering off on tangents where he shows you his research, but I’m sympathetic to that, and there’s some really cool and atmospheric scenes in this book. My favorite character was definitely Captain Nemo, who we don’t really learn much about. Could have done without Conseil, the bland servant character who could be a naturalist in his own right, if he had any opinions of his own, or the period racism/imperialism, which unfortunately is so built into this kind of adventure novel. But the environmentalism was a nice surprise, and you can definitely read some critiques of certain aspects of (Western?) culture at the time into Captain Nemo’s behavior; I have not yet read The Mysterious Island where Captain Nemo also appears, but I do get the impression a lot of people read him as being disgusted with imperialism. Would I recommend it? Probably! With the caveats above. It was a good adventure story with some awesome visuals, and I kept thinking about what a pretty movie it would make with modern SFX, and how sad I would be that they would inevitably not spend just 3 solid hours on cool fish and interiors of the Nautilus and scenes of the lost city of Atlantis and Captain Nemo being very mysterious and dreamy scary, because they’d probably shoehorn an awkward romance into it. 4 stars

Finished in February, not for reading challenges (2 books):

The Deception of the Emerald Ring by Lauren Willig, book 3 of the Pink Carnation series Did I like it? I did. It was a silly Regency romance novel with espionage elements, it is the third of a series I have enjoyed, and it contained an accidental/forced marriage to preserve a lady’s honor despite neither party to the marriage particularly liking or wanting to have anything to do with each other, and some misunderstandings about that. Also spies. Was it good? Not really. It was fun and I liked the characters, but I don’t think the writing was of particularly high quality. The handling of certain elements of English imperialism was not great, and bothered me enough to note it in my review on Goodreads. Would I recommend it? I’d recommend the series if it sounds like something you’d like; I might not recommend this specific book. 3 stars

The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley Did I like it? No. It was very dark, and I did not enjoy most of the book. A lot of it was because it was very gritty and grim, and because I frequently don’t enjoy military fiction; a lot of it was because many of the dystopian aspects of our present reality that came to a head in 2020 were magnified in the book. Part of it was also that the protagonist’s entire reality and memory was being denied for much of the book, and I think it reminded me of being gaslit. (This is not a criticism of the book, or some kind of weird accusation that the book or its author was somehow abusing me, I just have this personal history. In fact, it turns out the main character is being gaslit to some extent, and the author writes it very well.) It was a minor relief when she finally decided the stuff she was going through was real, and a huge relief when she was able to talk to someone who believed her. Was it good? Yes, I think so. Would I recommend it? Not right now, but I think this would be a good book to read at a time when the world feels more stable. I don’t say this because I want you to wait until everything’s fine to read it; I say this because it feels like a good anti-complacency read. 4 stars (3 for not being an enjoyable read, 5 for the actual plot; it averages out.)

In progress, not for reading challenges (1 book):

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by 墨香铜臭

#kaesa op

3 notes · View notes

the-hufflepuff-dramatist · 4 years

Text

Pages Between Us (1/?)

Anonymous requested: For the drabble game, could you do number 4 with leo pls❤ I love your writing so much

Anonymous requested: I know your links are broken and you’re busy with other stuff but can I please request #4 from the drabble game with vampire or immortal Leo? He owns/works at a library and reader finds it secluded in a dingy part of town but she likes it so much she makes a habit of going as much as she can? Thank you!! I really love your blog!!

A/N: So this is an Immortal AU and it’s going to be a series because I got a little carried away. I hope it’s okay that I combined your requests, I just really didn’t want to write the same prompt for the same person twice. I don’t know how long this series is going to be just yet, but I hope you like it! Hopefully I’ll be updating regularly and thank you so much for requesting! I’m so sorry it took me so long to complete these requests.

Pairing: Immortal!Leo x Female Reader

Warnings: None really, there’s some slight angst at the beginning and some slight issues with self worth near the end but nothing major

Word Count: 2,659

Drabble Challenge Prompts

4. “You are easily the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a thousand years.”

You had stormed out of the apartment and started walking with no particular destination in mind. You were fuming.

Your significant other of a year and a half who you were living with had decided all of a sudden that they didn’t love you anymore. That it was time to break up. It hurt, but you figured it was a long time coming. The love between the two of you had been fading for a long time. What hurt the most though, was not that they were no longer in love with you, but that they had found someone else. Someone new. Someone better.

They were packing up their stuff but you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t stand to be in the apartment with them any longer. You couldn’t deal with wallowing in the insecurities that you felt like you were drowning in, and then their new partner had shown up.

It was a friend of theirs that you had met several times and you were stunned, to say the least. You didn’t know how to process your feelings, the anger and the hurt bubbling to the surface, so you left. You grabbed your purse that had been hanging by the door and you left.

You had no idea where you were going, only knew that you had to be away from them. You were wandering around town and you felt lost. You didn’t feel like crying, no all you really felt was anger but you were sure that would pass. The tears would come eventually. You didn’t know when, could be in a few hours or a few days. All you really knew is that they would come eventually. They always did.

You were so tired of relationships. You were so tired of trying to find “the one” that everyone was talking about. You hated it. Dating was stressful and relationships were work and everyone you had ever had failed. Maybe you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. Maybe you would just need to learn to be okay with that. You had friends, lots of them, and those relationships were just as fulfilling as a romantic one. But the truth was you craved a romantic relationship.

You craved every aspect of falling in love and being with someone, of getting to know each other and getting married. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone. You wanted to share every aspect of your life with a partner. You wanted to be romantically entangled with them.

You sighed as you stopped at a street corner, shaking your head to clear it and looking around to see where you were. You had wandered into the quiet part of town, the more dingy part of town. You had only been to this part of town a few times, mostly to try some of the restaurants that were around. You had a vague sense of where you were, and it was still daylight outside plus your phone was charged. You weren’t worried about getting lost.

You wanted to stay out of the apartment as long as possible, you knew it would be hell when you went back. Your heart clenched at the thought of returning to the empty apartment that you know had to figure out a way to pay for by yourself. You sighed once more and began walking again.

You didn’t know how long you walked before you spotted it: a bookshop across the street right on the corner. It didn’t look too small but it also wasn’t big either. It looked old, really old in fact and the sign reading “Everlasting Books” was quite faded. You couldn’t help but think of ways to fix it and repaint it as you crossed the road and walked towards the shop. You were an artist and were always looking for your next project. If the owner would let you, maybe repainting the sign for their store could be your next project. You would definitely need the distraction.

Without thinking about it, you entered the bookshop.

A bell rang throughout the shop as you entered. It was a crowded shop, not because of the number of people but because of the number of books. They were everywhere. There were shelves from floor to ceiling with books placed in every possible empty space and there were even stacks of books on the floor, out of the way of course so people could still walk through the store. You could see down a hallway that was lined with books as well and had pages of different books hanging from the ceiling, into the rest of the bookshop. You were immediately intrigued by this little shop.

You looked around, searching for anyone else but saw no one. You frowned in confusion but quickly shook it off. Clearly the shop wasn’t trafficked very often so the one or two workers that you were sure worked there weren’t always at the register. Having set your mind at ease, you walked through the hallway.

The hallway opened up to a grand room filled with shelves and shelves of books. You had always been an avid reader and books had always brought you comfort, and you were falling more and more in love with your accidental discovery. There was a doorway to a smaller room on your right. You walked towards it to discover that it was a children’s reading nook. It was a normal-sized room, but much smaller than the grand one that the hallway led to. There were children’s books and stuffed animals everywhere. There were murals painted on the walls of fairytales and animals, but they were faded. Once again you were struck with ideas on how to fix it. You smiled and turned back to the main room.

You walked along the shelves, admiring all of the books. Your discovery of the bookshop had pushed your thoughts away from your ex and you were honestly grateful for the distraction. You ran your finger along the spines of the books as you walked the length of the room. You were surrounded by books and it honestly made you feel relaxed, you felt safe.

Once you reached the other side of the room, you spotted another room, the door ajar. Intrigued, you walked towards the room and poked your head inside. It was another reading room but clearly meant for adults. You pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside. The wall directly in front of you was covered in more books while the wall across from it had a fireplace that you were sure would make the room warm and cozy in the wintertime. To your left, there was a window that overlooked a park with a seat as well and to your right, there was a couch and a few armchairs. You started when you saw a man sitting in one of the armchairs, looking directly at you, an open book in his lap.

“Um...sorry to disturb you, I was just...well I saw the shop and it said it was open and so I was just looking around,” you said hurriedly. His eyes were trained on you, never wavering as he put a bookmark in the book and got up to make his way over to you. As he got closer, you were struck by how handsome he was and could feel your cheeks heat up at your thoughts.

“You have no reason to apologize,” the man said once he was standing right in front of you. He had a very soft voice that was oddly comforting to you. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear the bell ring otherwise I would have greeted when you first entered, this is my shop after all, but I guess I was too lost in my book.”

“Oh, you’re fine. I understand losing track of well, everything when you get really into a book. What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice, well rereading.”

“Oh that’s one of my favorites, well Jane Austen, in general, is one of my favorites authors,” you laughed. A small smile spread across his cheeks as he listened to you talk and then heard you laugh. “I’m still sorry to interrupt your reading.” He waved your apology off.

“It’s been a slow day which is the only reason I was even reading. I’m happy to have a customer.” You nodded as you glanced around the room once more, still impressed with the sheer amount of books that were in his shop.

“Well, you have a very nice shop...um...” you hesitated, wanting to say his name but not knowing it. Thankfully, he seemed to catch on.

“Oh, Leo. You can call me Leo.” He held out his hand for you to shake which you gladly took.

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Leo, and you have a wonderful little bookshop. I’m (Y/N).” He smiled as you said your name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You giggled softly as he brought your hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It felt very old fashioned but you kind of liked it.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up once more. You nervously bit your lip, unsure of what to say. He seemed to notice your discomfort. “Well, I’ll let you look around. Feel free to ask me if you need any help and if you want to read while you’re here you are welcome to use this room.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, (Y/N).” He smiled once more at you then walked away, leaving you alone to peruse the books.

You walked over to the shelf in the room and started looking at all the books. You found one of your favorites and excitedly pulled it from the shelf. You carried it over to one of the armchairs and settled in, opening the book to the first chapter.

You came back to the bookshop almost every day that week. It was a good excuse to get out of your empty apartment when you weren’t working and it was a good distraction. The tears had yet to come and you had Leo to thank for that. He always greeted you and talked to you while you were there, asking you questions about yourself and your life. He seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say but he rarely shared much about himself. On your third visit, you met Leo’s co-worker, Hakyeon. He was a very excitable man of the same age as Leo and he enjoyed teasing you when Leo wasn’t around. He also shared with you that he and Leo had been friends since their childhood.

“Has he told you his real name yet?” Hakyeon asked you one day about two weeks after you had discovered the shop.

“His what?” You turned to look at Hakyeon in confusion.

“His real name, Leo’s just a nickname.” You shook your head.

“No, he hasn’t, but we haven’t known each other that long so it makes sense.” Hakyeon rolled his eyes teasingly and pestered you to ask Leo about his real name. You tried to ignore him, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Leo wouldn’t tell you his real name. He wouldn’t tell you much of anything about himself now that you really thought about it.

You frowned as you settled into your preferred armchair and opened the book you had chosen for the day. Why wouldn’t Leo tell you his real name? The thought was eating at you but you tried to push it away and focus on your book.

You didn’t know how long you were reading before the thoughts made their way back to the forefront of your mind. Did Leo not trust you? Did he not like you? Were you just some annoying customer that he would rather stop coming in all the time? Your insecurities were bubbling to the surface and the tears that had yet to be shed over your breakup were pushing at the back of your eyes. You sniffed slightly as you stared at the book, willing yourself to ignore your feelings and continue reading, but it was too late. The tears came.

Leo finished closing up most of the shop before he remembered that you were still in the reading room. He smiled at the thought and made his way to the back to gently tell you that the shop was cloning but you were welcome to come back tomorrow. When he entered the room and saw you, he froze and his smiled faded. You were curled up in the chair, book in your hands, and tears streaming down your face. He slowly made his way over to you and you looked up at him as he did.

You quickly tried to wipe your tears away, embarrassed about crying in a public space, especially in his bookshop.

“(Y/N),” he almost whispered, “what’s wrong?” You didn’t want to tell him, but it all came spilling out at once.

“Why won’t you tell me anything about yourself? Am I that annoying? I mean, I’m sure I am. I’m here all the time and I’m sorry but I just...I can’t spend time in my apartment. I-I’m all alone there and I hate it, I’m not used to being on my own. I don’t even know your name, just your nickname. Why won’t you tell me your real name?” He was taken aback by your outburst but he knelt down in front of you and gently took your hand in his.

“Why does it matter if you know my real name or not?”

“Why don’t you trust me? Am I...am I that hideous of a person? Am I that horrible? I’m sure that’s why my ex left me...I-I know it is but I just thought...you ask about me all the time and so I just thought you maybe, actually cared but that’s crazy, right? I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid, I do care about you. I’m sorry to hear about your ex, they really don’t know what they’re missing. (Y/N), you are easily the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a thousand years. Inside and out.” His over-exaggeration made you laugh slightly.

“Oh, a thousand years huh? Because you’ve been alive that long,” you teased. He forced a laugh.

“Of course I’m exaggerating.” There was something in his voice that made you think maybe he wasn’t joking. But that was insanity, no one could live for a thousand years. Immortal beings were fiction, not real life.

“Thank you, for comforting me and putting up with me.”

“It’s my pleasure, really.” He stood up and helped you up, gently taking the book from you. “It’s pretty late, I was just closing up.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry for staying so late! I’ll leave right now.” Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment.

“Calm down, you’re fine,” Leo said with a laugh. “How are you getting home?”

“I was going to walk, I usually walk.”

“Would you mind if I walked you home? I want to make sure you get home safely.”

“I’ll never say no to company,” you said, a shy smile playing at your lips.

Leo walked you home and talked to you about some of his favorite books, and you listened happily but your mind kept wandering back to his earlier comment. He seemed nervous when you called him out for over-exaggerating, which was weird to you. He couldn’t actually be a thousand years old, could he?

You shook your head to clear it and focused on what Leo was saying. No, it must have just been an over-exaggeration. It was craziness to think that Leo was an immortal being, and yet the thought would not leave the back of your mind.

#vixx #kpop #fan fiction #my writing #jung taekwoon #request #drabble challenge #immortal au #taekwoon x reader #taekwoon imagine #leo imagine #leo x reader

14 notes · View notes

poptod · 4 years

Text

What Plagues My Thoughts (Kenny x Reader)

Description: In the span of a year you went from nobody to arguably one of the most well known kids at your school, but there’s one kid that won’t pay attention to you, and his attention is the only one that matters.

Notes: back at it again with my boy Kenny. again this is a ‘gender neutral’ fic with HEAVILY implied male/mlm reader. Quick warning, I do write ‘fag’ in this. I think that, as a bisexual man, it’s probably okay.

No AO3 link this time. A tumblr special I guess lol. anyway i’m sorry, this one is really not great, wrote it while high.

Words before editing: 6.827k

Words after editing: 6.872k (thought this was funny)

You’ve lived a very simple life - a very common, orthodox, and casually stereotypical life. In fact, you were so barren of any type of hobby or distinction from others that you had hardly any friends, up until you were picked random by a group of teenagers a year older than you.

Looking bedraggled and dressed in dark, grunge-esque clothes, they asked you to join their band, Acid Tears, or Hopeless Thought. They hadn’t decided on a name.

“I don’t play any instruments,” you told them curtly, in your usual soft and polite tone. They still pushed for you to join them, and despite your resistance, you reluctantly did. A year later and you were playing bass in a very punk rock band while not being at all punk rock yourself. In that time you grew into yourself - became a real person, achieved a sense of who you were and what your morals were, as well as several hobbies you enjoyed. Even so you were quiet, and the band didn’t exactly boost your popularity considering they didn’t play massive venues, and the venues they did play, you stayed at the back of the stage.

Your drummer was a nice fellow, tall, with red hair and pale skin - his name was Jakob, and he was fine with sharing the back space of the stage with you. ‘It gives the best seat in the show,’ he always said, and in many ways he was right. There were only two other people in the band, both guitarists and both singers, and they were certainly the most energetic. Jane was the exact opposite of her name, and the opposite of the identity her parents gave her. Naturally, she was a blonde, with blue eyes - typically pretty, with Christian parents who were very orthodox. She changed herself into something else over her years in high school, till she had electrifying blue hair, several tattoos, and usually wore colored contacts instead of her prescribed glasses. Her main job was singing and rhythm guitar, though she usually copied John Lennon’s response when asked what she did. Frankie played guitar, sung backup vocals, had short, black hair, and was the object of many peoples’ affections.

After winter break, you scored big - something had changed, either in your band or in the hearts of your listeners, because suddenly more people were showing up. Ticket prices began to go up, till videos of your original music started popping up online. This continued, up until the point where getting a Grammy award wasn’t something all too ridiculous a thought; the thought of which alone terrified you. The biggest jump of this popularity occurred over spring break, so, your band, officially titled Radio Waste, decided to get together to decide what to do if people recognized you.

Frankie had very little trouble with the popularity, always being the most crass and excitable. Jane expressed her own excitement in the situation, while you and Jakob made a pact on how to deal with panic attacks, should they arrive.

The four of you entered your school at once, you dressed in the most normal clothes you could find, and the other three dressed in their usual, full on punk outfits. Students gawked, whispering amongst themselves, and once one asked to get a picture with you, it started. Jane agreed, then came the uproar of ‘if he can have a photo, why can’t we?’

All in all, very horrid. You managed to escape by crawling on your hands and knees, heading to the cafeteria to wait out the crowd. Sitting alone you kept your hand in your hands, glancing up every now and then, till you spotted someone you’d nearly forgotten about, sitting in the corner with his best friend: Kenny.

He’d never noticed you before. Not that he was more popular than you, no - he was on the same level of forgotten nerd that you were, though he actually had interests. Since the sixth grade you’d had a massive, horrible crush on him that you’d done everything in your effort to hide, which wasn’t actually that hard, considering he never spoke to you. How a crush persists that long is beyond you, and beyond Jakob (once you tell him about it an hour later), but it’s there, and it disrupts all your thoughts.

To your luck, he isn’t in any of your classes, which are now heavily disrupted by your presence. Ms. Denvers pulls you out of the classroom halfway through the period and asks what exactly happened to attract all this attention -

“- it’s not like people were like this before the break,” she says, and though it’s a little insulting, her tone indicates she means the best for you.

“I joined an emo band and it got kind of popular,” you mumble, trying to hide behind your barely-there bangs. A recent haircut made sure your eyes were visible in the most uncomfortable way possible.

“I see. Is there anything I can do that might help alleviate this problem?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll do my best to ignore it,” you say, and she smiles, pats your shoulder, and leads you back into the classroom. Free seating is given up pretty quickly, and the people who don’t know who you are are seated all around you so as to avoid any serious collision.

It’s like a miracle has struck you and the school - everyone’s so nice to you when lunch comes around, warming up to you and trying to gain your favor. Some are a bit more subtle, just asking for photos, or saying hi. You appreciate that a bit more, it’s an honest approach you can respect. Besides your bandmates you don’t have many friends, if any at all, so you sit with them, and stare at the back of Kenny’s head through the growing crowd.

Someone taps your shoulder, pulling you from your trance, and she asks for a photo with you.

“Me?” You ask, mostly because everyone had ignored you in favor of your more eccentric friends during the lunch period.

“Yeah! You’re, like, my favorite member,” she explains bashfully, and a little dumbstruck you agree, helping her hold the phone steady for a selfie. For the rest of the period, you stare at Kenny when you can, who doesn’t so much as flick a hand in your direction.

You come to the (very wrong) conclusion over the course of the next couple weeks that Kenny doesn’t like guys. That’s fair, you tell yourself, but it still hurts a lot, just as much as if a girl wasn’t interested in your gender. For the most part you’ve got your own sexuality figured out, and you’re very loose with it considering how anxious you usually are with other subjects. Your conclusion doesn’t stop you from dreaming about him, and it doesn’t stop your staring either.

It’s junior year, you think to yourself, still staring at the back of his head through the crowd around you and your band, which still hasn’t worn off. There’s still time, you think, even if there really isn’t that much left, especially contrasted with what you started with.

“So you’ve been doing this since sixth grade?” Jakob asks, eating his home-brought lunch of spaghetti.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I guess so. Never got the courage t’ really do anything about it I guess,” you mumble distantly, forking at the food on your plate.

“You should go online sometime, see the type of stuff people post about you,” he informs with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

“(Y/N), you’re really popular. I mean, not as popular as Jane, cause she’s the lead singer n’ all that, but people really like you. Apparently, bassists are pretty hot,” Frankie informs you, delighted as she shoves her own food in her mouth, also from Jakob’s home - the two of them have been friends since they were babies, and they routinely share their home food, something you didn’t really understand.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s into that,” you sigh, forlorn and dreamy as your gaze stays direct on Kenny and his friend who you’re pretty sure is named Jerry.

“Couldn’t hurt to say hi anyway, become friends? Ever thought of that?” Jane adds sarcastically, never one for drawn-out romance.

You can’t think of a reply, but you know she’s right. They all are. At some point you need to say hello to him, say something, even if you don’t tell him your true feelings. Fears gnaw at the back of your mind constantly, whispering their honey words and promising his hatred with such a sweet voice you can’t help but believe. Again you sigh, and your world seems utterly, irrevocably small.

Even with school going on, Radio Waste finds time to perform at smaller gigs, and Jakob makes the mistake of advertising your evening at a local club. It leads to a massive crowd trying to file its’ way in, pushing and shoving, even though you’re sure most of the people don’t even like your music. A lot of girls (and some boys) keep to your side of the stage, which is Jakob’s as well technically, and they cheer incessantly for you, till you have to turn around to avoid your face blushing bright red.

Before your popularity you weren’t ever bullied. Maybe the passing comment about being gay or a pussy, but you weren’t important or interesting enough to be a popular outlet for bullies. Still, many of the older guys who had or definitely would have called you a fag were there, and they’re cheering, their cameras and phones held up to record your music.

Jane comes up to you and Jakob during a quick interlude, and mutters to the both of you, “posers. Bunch of posers.”

“Clout chasers,” Jakob helpfully adds, and Jane agrees with a quick nod and swig from her water bottle.

The event continues normally, and you scan the crowd trying to find any familiar face, even if you didn’t like them. It’s not until the very end of the night that you see Kenny, shocking you from movement as he exits the crowded club, Jerry-or-whatever-his-name-is at his side. Until Jane closes your mouth you don’t even realize it’s open and, blushing profusely, you head offstage with your friends.

During the weekend you congregate at Jakob’s house. It’s more of a ‘settle’, when it comes to the location - Jane has a practical mansion with a pool and hot tub, but her parents are terribly conservative to the point that even you’re a suspicion since you aren’t dressed like them. Frankie, on the other hand, has incredibly nice parents who deal with pretty much anything, but their house isn’t the greatest. Your own house isn’t in the picture - your parents aren’t even aware of your band involvement, and you’d rather keep it that way.

Over a late breakfast (the group arrived at 8 AM, bright and early, and it’d taken you several hours to organize breakfast) you tell them what you’d seen that night, and explained you were too tired to tell them the whole story the previous night.

“Well, that’s good, right? He knows who you are, that’s a start,” Jakob says, leaning over his cereal to make more direct eye contact with you, a habit of his you dislike greatly. Only then, contemplating his words, do you realize how thankful you are for your friends, who hadn’t even questioned you when you said you had a crush on Kenny. No judgement from any angle - no gay jokes, no popularity jokes, and no jokes about you being a miserable romantic.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you say, feeling rather dumbstruck.

“You always guess. You gotta take what’s yours!” Frankie exclaims, having already had two cups of coffee and feeling her high pretty hard. You chuckle, but it sounds heartless.

“I think… I need a motivation to talk to him. Like, you guys gotta say ‘talk to him or else we’re gonna’…” you trail off there, hoping for some suggestions.

“We’re gonna kick you out of the band,” Jane says, gaining gasps from both you and Jakob.

“Not realistic enough, we could never lose our little baby bassist,” Frankie laughs, ruffling your hair. You mumble your displeasure, waving her hands away and straightening your hair out.

“What about… you have to talk to him or else we’ll expose you as gay to the presses,” Jakob says, and he’s instantly met by the slaps of you, Jane, and Frankie.

“Or we could do the realistic action: you talk to him or we will,” Frankie says, sounding incredibly threatening, a wicked smile coming across her face. You pale - that’s a realistic and very dangerous threat. You didn’t trust yourself all that much, but you certainly didn’t trust Frankie when it came to someone as… skittish? is that the right word? as Kenny.

“Okay! Got it, I’ll talk to him Monday,” you breathe out in a rush, your voice strained as you stare wide eyed at your own breakfast. “Will do.”

Your friends laugh in good nature, patting you on the back and congratulating you on ‘building a spine on fear’. Throughout the rest of the weekend, your deal doesn’t feel so bad - it can’t be that hard, right? Come Monday, you’re feeling sick enough to stay home, and your mother is legitimately worried for your health when you wake up swaying, and your face lands on the plate she sets out on you.

“I need to go t’ school today. I’ll be okay,” you insist, knowing that your absence would give your friends permission to approach Kenny.

Eventually, you make it - albeit a little late - and by lunch period you’re feeling even worse.

“You don’t look so good,” a boy next to you comments, his conversation with Jane interrupted by him noting your sick expression.

“Yeah,” Jakob agrees, his brow furrowing. “You sure you wanna do this?”

The boy has no idea what Jakob is talking about, and resumes his conversation with Jane, while Jakob assures you that ‘if you feel this bad, maybe you shouldn’t do it.’ You shake your head - if you don’t do it now, you’re going to brush off the future threats with your excuse of being sick. Which, you actually are sick, though you know it’s entirely psychosomatic.

Slowly you stand, getting your bearings when the world spins at the change. The crowd makes a small part, and you escape the groupies gathered at your table, trying not to stare at Kenny too much. Frankie noted it to be pretty unsettling, which you had no basis to disagree with.

Time stops, and your heart beats in time with every step you take (which you take very, very slowly) - or maybe it’s beating a hundred times a step. It’s hard to tell, what with the noise level and the other students and the fact that Jerry is now pointing at you, and Kenny’s turning his head and now they’re both looking at you - fuck, they’re looking at you - and you pray to any God that’ll listen that you don’t look creepy.

Swallowing, and trying to get a grasp on the concept of breathing, you make your way over, several students’ eyes watching you as you stand at the head of their small table. Jerry - or whatever his name is - is staring at you, eyes wide and mouth open as he tries to figure out if what’s happening is really happening.

He must be a fan or something, you think nervously to yourself, eyes darting from Kenny to Jerry.

it feels like so long has passed and you’ve said nothing, and you’re just standing there, but only a second of time has actually passed.

“Hi,” you finally get out, sounding surprisingly normal. “I’m.. I’m (Y/N).”

Oh. That went well - no slip ups, no wrong names. You smile to yourself, but the smile ends up on your face, and it’s a charming smile; friendly and warm, and to Kenny and Jerry, they think you’re completely calm, if not relaxed. Your mind blips when you realize you don’t have any excuse for introducing yourself - Jerry saves you.

“I - I’m Larry!” He says, and you internally grimace that you’re going to have to relearn his name, but outside you just shake his hand and sit next to him.

“I’m Kenny,” he says, his voice quieter than you expected, almost dream-like.

“It’s sort of crowded up there,” are the words that come out of your mouth, and you realize your tongue and lips are making decisions you didn’t get to okay. “I prefer the quiet, so I hope it’s alright if I sit with you?”

You look back and forth from Jer - Larry to Kenny, and they look at each other, then you, then agree profusely.

“Yes! Yeah, of course, anything you want,” Larry says, grinning far too cheerily for someone with an American school lunch in front of them.

“We, um,” Kenny shifts in his seat, leaning closer to you, “we saw you this weekend, you were really good.” You smile at him, readying a bashful thank you, before noticing Larry’s glare at him.

“He didn’t like you guys and didn’t wanna listen to your music, so I dragged him to your guys’ show, and now he likes you,” Larry says, and Kenny looks affronted as the truth comes out. But you just laugh, shaking your head.

“That’s alright. I know their songs aren’t for everyone,” you agree, considering you were much like that when you joined. It took a lot of compromises and ear plugs before you began to enjoy the music.

“So, do you, uh, write music? With them? It’s just that you said their songs, and y’know, if -“

“No, no… nothing publishable,” you interrupt him. “My songs aren’t really like theirs,” you admit, gauging Kenny’s reaction while simultaneously trying not to stare at him. He’s fucking gorgeous, shining like a setting sun, like a beauty so long unappreciated that he no longer knows how pretty he is. Considering what he wears and the fashion he carries himself in, he probably doesn’t.

“Not the same genre?” Larry asks.

“Actually, yeah. I uh… I have a hard time writing face paced songs, let’s just say that,” you chuckle, and with the conversation Larry carries, it feels more like an interview rather than the result of an intervention.

“I would love to see some of your songs on an album or two,” Kenny says, his lips in a soft pout as his brow knits together, resting his chin on his palm.

“Maybe in the future,” you mumble with a shy laugh, and you’ve suddenly taken Kenny’s world by storm, though you’d never know, and he wouldn’t ever remember exactly when it was he fell in love with you; but it was just then. A flip switched in both your minds - your dreams realized, his just found, and your thoughts and all your world is surrounded in a hazy golden glow, a loving shade of red emanating from the both of you so strongly that even Larry senses something is up.

It’s not till your fifth house party that semester that he gets to ask your friends what exactly is up.

Over the past couple months you’d gotten to know Kenny a lot better - his passions, hobbies, his personality, his morals, and several of his best stories, many with Larry. Even if he never loved you, you’d be happy with his friendship; being in his presence was a gift previously so rare that you’d forever cherish it. The house party isn’t much different. Kenny is reluctant to go, but you’d asked him, so he went regardless of his own fears. It took some negotiations with his parents, but considering you looked much like a normal teenager, they relented their own worries.

Keeping close to each other you navigated around, him waiting patiently in the corner when fame swept you up and required you play a song on the makeshift stage. The entire time you keep looking for him in the crowd, till you spot him in one of the hardest spots in the song. Nearly missing a note, you don’t even have to look back at your fingers to get back on the right track, your eyes still on Kenny, assuring him you haven’t forgotten him. He waves and smiles giddily at you, and you return a softer version of your own smile.

Eventually you drag yourself off the stage, drifting nearly obstruction-less through the crowd till you reach Kenny again. Talking about the performance and your own energy level, you head over to the drinks, and that’s when Larry makes his move to your band and asks his question.

“Hey uh, guys? I, uh, don’t know if you remember me, um… I’m (Y/N)’s friend?” He introduces himself once the crowd has finally died down a little.

“Oh, yeah!” Jane says, laughing and patting him on the back. “We didn’t forget you, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good. I just, um, I wanted to ask you something? If that’s alright?” He gets nods from the group, so he continues. “Is… there’s no easy way of putting this, but is (Y/N) trying to steal my best friend? Cause Kenny’s spending, like, all his time with (Y/N) and it’s annoying because he’s my only friend, and (Y/N) already has a bunch of friends.”

The band shares looks with each other, several rather sarcastic, before bursting out in laughter.

“No, no,” Jakob says through near tears. “That’s not it at all. (Y/N) is trying to come onto your friend, so no love lost there, if ya know what I mean?” He adds a sucking sound at the end, nudging Larry with his elbow. In turn, Larry scrunches up his face, disgusted.

“Kenny’s not gay, though,” Larry says, thoroughly confused and horrified.

“Huh,” Jane says, and the group goes quiet.

“Yeah, okay,” Frankie says after the long silence, and they break into crude laughter again.

Upstairs, you lead him through the house, hoping to find the room just above the living room. Lucky you know your way around - the girl who owns this house (and the party) is a big fan, and had shown you around the place. The room belongs to her parents, found when you open the door. Much grander than the girls’ room, with a massive bed and closets that go on forever.

“Should we really be here?” Kenny asks, marveling at the wood carved ceiling.

“Can’t hurt more than what they’re all doing to this house,” you say with a shrug, feeling a new sense of comfort in his private presence, something you adored in its’ entirety -alone time with him wasn’t given easily.

“That’s… true. Wanna watch TV?” He asks, jumping up on the giant bed and patting the space beside him. Grinning you run and jump, landing beside him, your legs neatly folded in front of you along side his own legs. A large television sits on the wall opposite the headboard, the remote at Kenny’s side. With a press of a button it’s on, and you’re flicking through channels, deciding which one would be best to watch.

You decide on a sitcom that you’ve seen parts of, clicking through the expansive list of channels, though you don’t know the name or any of the characters. It makes you laugh, at least for the night, till the moon shines bright outside and you’re falling asleep on Kenny’s shoulder.

“You wanna go?” He asks meekly, his voice cracking. You don’t notice, too sleepy to see anything. Instead of responding you hum indistinguishably, mumbling incoherently as you turn and rest more of your weight on him and the pillows behind you. Somewhere in there he hears a small ‘no,’ so he obeys, and turns the volume back up. Not enough to keep you awake, but enough to hear it over the music continuously playing downstairs. A minute passes and you’re snoring softly.

He glances to you, the show forgotten as the topic changes, all his concentration on you. A stray piece of hair falls in front of your eyes, so he pushes it back, admiring the plush of your cheeks, blushing strawberry and squished against his shoulder. For a while, he lets you sleep - the music downstairs is playing a little quieter, a little sweeter, and the fuzzing of the TV is going down. It takes a good hour of him sitting there, too anxious to sleep, before he jostles you awake. From there, you leave, and part ways.

In the morning you show up at Jakob’s house (a Saturday tradition) and they all congratulate you.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily, still rubbing your eyes awake. “What happened?”

“You scored last night!” Jakob says with a joyous laugh, patting you on the back as he leads you to another bowl of brand name cereal.

“You and Kenny got lucky last night, huh?” Frankie says with a smirk, nodding her head slowly.

“What? No, I fell asleep next to him then he woke me up and we both went home. To our separate homes,” you quickly clear the situation up, all too ready to rid of a lie you wish wasn’t false. They groan, clearly disappointed, and go back to their own seats at the table.

“Aren’t you ever gonna do it? It’s been, like, a million years,” Jane groans, resting her cheek on her palm.

“We’re just friends right now. I don’t think he’s into me,” you mumble with a shrug, starting on your cereal. Frankie pretends to fall asleep and snore. The other two just stare, dumbfounded at you, wondering how much denser you could be before dying of brain inactivity.

“Right. Whatever you tell yourself at night,” Frankie sighs, rolling her eyes. You frown, but don’t correct her, and the subject moves onto other topics. Jane tried to hook up with someone last night, but it turned out he was just trying to get pictures of her naked, and Jakob came home with a mild concussion than no one can explain. Frankie had a surprisingly mild evening, only punching one black eye into a guys’ face, and doing only seven shots of expensive vodka that definitely didn’t belong to her.

At lunch one spring-verging-on-summer day Kenny asks you something strange, something he never asked of you before. He asks you to meet him, at midnight, at an address you don’t know. If it were anyone else you would’ve been suspicious, but he looks so innocently nervous, you trust him with a quick nod and a smile. He looks relieved, and takes a seat next to you - Larry sits across from you both, and conversation ensues as normal.

That evening you find a note in your backpack, from Kenny.

For this adventure, you will need: . 1 Guitar . 1 Songbook Good luck on your quest. By the way here’s the address.

Except for the last line, it’s modeled after a shitty video game from the 90’s that the two of you found on the street. The storyline, animation, and overall execution was so horrid the two of you loved it, and you giggled softly at the memory as your fingers ran down the page. Caseless, you swung your guitar strap round your shoulders and set it against your back, wondering what he could be planning as you grabbed your songbook. You hadn’t ever shown him any of your songs, despite his insistence that he’d love them. But, when Kenny asks you to do something, you nearly always do it.

Climbing out your window, you crawl into a nearby tree, shutting the window back up and making your way down. You know the town better than anything else, and you know where the road is - but you’ve never been to the specific address. As you reach the street you grab at your pocket for the number, but Kenny’s standing outside, giving you a small wave. Letting out a breath and a smile, you jog to where he stands, and wait for his answer to what was happening.

“I, uh,” he pulls his hand from behind his back, holding a journal you’ve never seen. “I thought we could show each other some stuff.”

“You write songs?” You ask, gaping. You hadn’t ever learned this about him, and if anything it excited you.

“Yes! Well, no, actually, not really, I uh, I write poems,” he clarifies, clearing his throat and nodding awkwardly.

“That’s amazing. I didn’t know that… are you any good?” You ask, wondering how he could still look as beautiful as he does in the yellow glow of a cheap streetlight.

“I dunno, I’d like to think so, but I’ve… I’ve never really shown anyone before,” he says, his voice suddenly small and hard to hear. In the distance, the creek almost grows louder.

“Like I’ve never shown my songs?” You chuckle softly. “Wanna trade?” You hold up your book, and he nods excitedly.

You walk down to the creek and share in the delights in the only thing unknown about the other. It’s something ceaselessly private and terribly close to the soul, but you make do in the dim starlight, laughing away your insecurities with care. Bugs occasionally buzz around you but mainly keep in the light of the streets, and the peace of the running water fills your heart with an unfamiliar warmth. The only thing you dislike in any fashion is the fact that it’s a little harder to see him, even if he isn’t any less handsome, you like to note the color of his eyes.

It’s a little hard to pinpoint the color, especially in the dark - but you have the memory of them shining a brilliant green in the sunlight, and turning a cold grey when he cries. You match it to each of his emotions, each sparkle, every turn of the lip that you’ve memorized in such a tender way you’d never forget them, never misplaced for a second. When he lets out a breathy laugh your words catch in your throat, and you barely play it off as your own laughter when he looks right back at you with the same recognition of the features on your own face that you’d never bothered to care about.

“It’s amazing,” you note, when the sharing has finished. “Your poetry is.. fantastic. Really.”

“Oh, thanks,” he replies nervously, quietly, and he presses the journal tight to his chest and hugs it. Your notebook isn’t nearly as nice looking as his, but both are worn with the same amount of care. “Your songs are really good too.”

“Thanks,” you say, unsure of what to do next. You didn’t want to part - it was too perfect a night to just leave so suddenly.

He shuffles nervously, so subtly that you don’t notice he’s scooting closer to you till the cold of your bare arm begins to wash away with his warmth.

“W- d- Larry keeps making fun of my hand size,” he fumbles out, looking directly at you while simultaneously looking like he’d rather be looking anywhere else.

“What? Do you have small hands or something?” You ask, looking down at his hands. They look perfectly normal sized, actually. Then you turn to your own - you could even have the same sized hands, you decide, but it’s something you test. You hold up your hand, palm facing him, and he holds up his own. Your fingers touch and you try to ignore every flare in your heart, every spark in your nerves, and you look at the sizes;

You’re barely bigger than him.

“Ha, look at your tiny hands,” you laugh, even if it’s not that amusing, teasing is a wonderful way to get close to someone.

“Hey! You’re barely over my fingertips!” He says, but he joins in your laughter, still looking insulted.

“Kenny,” you chuckle, trying to calm yourself down with slow breaths, “what time is it?”

“Oh, um,” he grabs your wrist, the only one with a watch on it, and reads, “4:57 AM.”

“Shit, that’s so late,” you say, your mood switching to worried mother, and you gather up your guitar and songbook.

“Or early,” Kenny helpfully adds, earning a playful glare from you. He chuckles, holding his own journal in his arms, and the two of you make it as close as you can to your own houses without having to part.

“So, um, I’ll see you tomorrow? At school?” He asks at the crossroads separating the paths to your homes.

“Yeah, of course.”

You’re reluctant to part but you force yourself to with a small wave. When you have to turn down a different road you look back, finding he’s looking back too, and the two of you smile and wave, and truly part for the evening.

I should’ve kissed him, you think to yourself on the way home, groaning. The entirety of the story is spilled the next lunch period, and your friends agree profusely with you

“You’re a fucking idiot, (Y/N),” Jakob tells you. “Can he do literally anything gayer to make you realize he likes you???”

“I know, I know, I know!” You hiss, gripping tight at your hair. Jane untangles the knots round your fingers and takes your hands away from your head, setting them down on the table with a weary sigh.

“I’m worried about you,” she says.

“So am I,” you grumble back.

Still, your little dance goes on till the end of the year, and by then you’re thoroughly sick of it, and Kenny has gotten a lot more free with his affection since coming out. Jane hosts a party while her parents are away (cliche, but she swears she’s the luckiest girl, and she’s right), and the massive house is perfect. The pool out back lends for a sneaky showing of far too much skin on girls and boys alike, and you feel a little anxious standing in the shaded corner.

Kenny comes round the bend of the house with Larry, and they both look far more like they belong. Larry’s talking about something, his hands moving animatedly around as he laughs. Kenny listens intently, till he sees you, and Larry gets easily distracted by the parts of girls he’s never seen before.

“You okay?” He asks, grasping your upper arm. You shrug - probably, you’re fine.

“I’ll be better once the whole pool thing is done,” you tell him, and he doesn’t really understand your insecurity, but he stays with you as a source of comfort. You appreciate him dearly, and for the next several hours you think of how to show that appreciation.

Night swings around, everyone gets into their other clothes, and the party moves inside. Music pounds throughout the house, and deafly you search for a drink to numb yourself for the next several hours before it’d be appropriate to go home. Frankie catches you before anyone else, and convinces you to try your first shots - you’re feeling terribly woozy by three, and she calls you a lightweight.

“I’m light as hell, cause I’ve never gone light, dark…” you mumble to yourself, trying to sort out your jumbled thoughts. “I don’t drunk because I can’t drink, you know?” She laughs, ruffles your hair, and sends you in the direction of Kenny, who she comments on looking very lonely in the kitchen corner. Stumbling through the dancing crowd you make it to him, feeling the wave of drunkenness passing very slowly away.

“Hey, whatcha doin’ alone?” You ask, holding a cup of water in your hand, a precaution Frankie insisted on.

“Oh, Larry’s dancing, I don’t really feel like it,” he says, shrugging and pointing to Larry, who’s caught the eye of some girl who’s probably too drunk to see, but Larry looks just about as drunk as her.

“Whoof. He’s not coming home tonight,” you say, your verbal filter terribly weakened.

“What? What does - ohhh… good for him,” Kenny replies awkwardly, and the two of you stay in the corner watching the crowd.

“Hey, hey… Kenny?” You say, turning to him. Stumbling slightly you loose your balance, and catch the counter, now looking up at him. “Kenny…”

“Yeah?” He asks, his heart beating fast against your hand, which you just realized is pressed to his chest.

“Come here, come… come here,” you say, grabbing his hand and dragging him along till you make it to some sort of broom closet - you’re not sure where you are, but it’s private, and the dull thudding of the music barely reaches you here.

“What’s - what’s wrong?” His voice has tightened even further, the small space forcing your bodies together.

“I… this might just be.. the liquor, or whatever I drank… but fuck I wanna kiss you,” you admit with a numb tongue, not even realizing your confession, and certainly not sober enough to remember it. Kenny freezes - he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol and he’s perfectly coherent in every way, and it’s not helping him at all in this moment. Instead it’s forcing so many possibilities into his mind he can’t keep track of them, only able to focus on your heat and his thumping heart.

“You’re drunk,” is what comes out of his mouth when he can’t speak.

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t loved you since fucking sixth grade,” you sigh, wrapping your arms listlessly round his waist and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Sixth grade?” He hisses, trying to help you stand, desperately wishing you’d just sober up and tell him straight out what you thought of him.

“Please kiss me,” you murmur, lifting your head and nuzzling up into his jawline. He chokes on his own breath, his hands going numb as he loses coherent thought.

“It’s not right,” he says, tight and high. “Just… let’s get you home, okay?”

“No, no, no! I can’t, I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t wait any longer, just - please, I can’t draw this out anymore, tell me you fuckin’ hate me or something, I don’t care, just… please,” you beg him, sounding on the verge of tears even though they’re not really there. Tired, he sighs, and helps you to look at him. His palm holds your cheek, and it’s the most comforting thing that you might fall asleep in his hold.

“I like you,” he admits. “But you won’t remember this in the morning.”

“Then help me. Ask any of my friends, I’ve been raving about you for ages, I adore you,” you murmur, your lips pressing against the sensitive skin of his neck. He stutters, trying to find a response, before your hand comes up to his cheek. In blurred thought your fingers trace from his cheekbone to his jaw, reaching his lips and tracing their outline with as delicate a touch as you can manage. You straighten yourself out, no longer leaning on his shoulder, and in a trance he follows where you guide him, till your lips move against his. Neither of you can define when you touch, when it starts, or when you begin kissing fierce - you don’t even realize it till he grasps at your hair and you pull at his shirt.

Breathing heavy you pull yourself away, realizing in a sudden sobriety that you’d just kissed him. Kenny, the guy you’d liked for nearly five and a half years, and he’s moving back into you, his chest tight against yours as he kisses the life out of your mind, until you feel so full you could explode with your affection for this one boy.

“I adore you,” you mumble against his lips, playing with his hair as you kiss him over and over again.

“I think I love you,” Kenny practically whimpers, and you return the sentiment so deeply you can’t help but moan his name, your body begging to be closer to him.

In the morning you recall in crystal clear memory the events of the night before. Frankie is the most surprised at this - not just because you got the nerve that you finally kissed him, but also because you remembered it at all. She makes another joke at your expense, but it brings laughter to both you and your friends.

“You know,” Frankie says, stuffing her face with leftover croissants from Jane’s party, which she’d brought from her house to Jakob’s, “I knew it’d end well.”

“How’d you know?” You ask.

“It’s as I said. Bassists are pretty hot.”

You wave her off, chuckling. When you kiss Kenny at the back of the school during lunch, you think on it - maybe she’s right, you think, considering Kenny is way out of my league. But he holds your cheeks in his hands and pulls you closer, holding you tight, out of view of every other person, and you lose all thought of anything but him again - an emotion you can never get enough of, and one you’re lucky to get the rest of your life.

#kenny al bahir x reader #kenny al bahir #war at home #rami malek

37 notes · View notes