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ashesonthefloor · 3 years

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oh, captain, let's make a deal (where we both say the things that we both really feel)

summary: Ashton strikes a bet with Michael to get him to ask Calum out. It doesn't go according to plan. ao3 found here

prompt: "Person A bets that they can get Person B to go out on a date with them via Person C or a group of people etc, but what the 3rd party doesn't know is that persons A and B are already dating" from @thenervousduckwrites except, as expected, I didn't stick to that

content rating: PG-13 (cursing, probably, one allusion to sex, alcohol)

word count: 1422 words (short baby <3)

A/N: look at me! this is the first time I've posted something I've written since November! look at me go! but anyway, yes. if anyone has any other cute short prompts, I will happily take them. I make no promises about whether I'll get to them or how quickly, though. and as always, I happily take validation <3

“Alright, Christ, that’s the fourth time you’ve brought Calum up in the last thirty minutes,” Ashton interrupted Michael mid-rant. Michael frowned and sipped his soda, leaning back (harder than necessary, to prove a point) into Ashton’s stupidly comfortable couch.

“And?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with me talking about Calum so much? Who else am I supposed to be talking about him to?”

Ashton shrugged one shoulder. “My point is maybe you should be talking about him less and talking to him more. Why don’t you just ask him out already?”

Michael hummed, nice and noncommittal, and just sipped his drink. “Dunno.” He slumped down a little against the couch, messing up the back of his hair. “I just haven’t.”

Ashton sighed and Michael had to hold in his pleased smile at frustrating him so easily. And all it had taken was several weeks of talking nonstop about Calum almost every time they hung out to wear him down. Ha. Take that, Ashton. “I’m sure he likes you. Didn’t he compliment your eyes last week?” Michael nodded his affirmative. “And didn’t he literally spend the night with you the week before that?” Michael nodded again. “So he obviously likes you, Mike. What’s it gonna take you to actually ask him out?”

Now it was Michael’s turn to sigh, and he made it as loud and dramatic as possible. Just to make sure Ashton was fully and properly annoyed. That was mostly how their friendship worked. Michael loved him, so he annoyed him as much as humanly possible. And Ashton put up with it because he loved him back. It was absolutely perfect.

“Look, I bet you your next pizza he’ll say yes.” Ashton wasn’t the smartest person if he thought that would get Michael to stop talking about Calum. If they went out, Michael would only start talking about him more. The bet really only benefited Michael. But, being the opportunistic person he was, he decided against pointing it out. Ashton wasn’t an idiot - not usually, at least - so it was better to avoid patronizing him by letting him know, anyway. Or that was what Michael told himself, trying to pretend his reasons for accepting the bet were because he didn’t want to insult Ashton by turning it down and thus sullying his integrity. Or something like that.

Michael tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “What if he says no?”

Ashton huffed slightly. He didn’t need to say anything; Michael spoke Ashton (a side effect of being friends with him for so long), and that was as good as him saying it wasn’t going to happen. “Then you apologize to me for talking so much about a guy that doesn’t care about you.”

“And you apologize for being wrong. And I get bragging rights about it,” Michael added, quick to sweeten the bargain. Would Calum say no? Probably not, but he was going to make sure he was covered just in case. He didn’t want to have to deal with a broken heart and not get to blame Ashton at least slightly.

“Yeah, sure.” Ashton shook his head and sipped his soda again. That meant that he didn’t believe he’d say no, but he’d given up on arguing with Michael. Michael almost missed not having Ashton in his head.

“You’re on, then. It’s a bet.” Michael held a hand out expectantly, waiting for Ashton to shake it.

Ashton held his gaze for a moment, not reaching for his hand. “Ah ah ah. You’ve got two weeks to ask him out.”

“Fine,” Michael agreed. Only then did Ashton reach out and shake his hand. God, he drove a hard bargain. “Now you’re on.”

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

Michael’s phone vibrated on the table exactly two weeks later, while he was busy getting his hair played with, head on Calum’s thigh. He let out a dramatic huff and gave Calum his best puppy dog eyes. Like with Ashton, he and Calum had made their own silent language, communicating with nothing but subtle head tilts and eye contact. It was just better with Calum because, well, it was Calum. So he didn’t have to ask for anything before Calum let out a soft laugh and wordlessly passed him his phone, scratching at Michael’s scalp a little, before turning his attention back to whatever shitty movie was playing on the TV.

Ashton: It’s been two weeks. You ask him yet?

Michael: yea, got a date 4 tmr

Ashton: Nice! I knew he’d say yes

Ashton: I’m out with Luke tomorrow

Fucker probably knew Michael would want to gossip about the date after it happened and was preemptively saying no.

Ashton: You and Calum could grab drinks or something with us afterward? If you don’t think it’s too soon

Michael: nah tht sounds pretty good. c u then?

Ashton: 👍

Michael tipped his head back slightly to look at Calum properly. He was gorgeous from this angle, too. Which was honestly just more proof that he was some sort of otherworldly deity or something, because no one at all should look so good from below like this. “Hey, do you wanna grab drinks with my friends tomorrow?”

Calum pulled his attention away from the movie to look down at Michael with that stupidly fond smile Michael was starting to get used to. “Yeah, sure, that sounds fun.” He scratched at his scalp again. “Like a double date thing or like a me meeting your friends thing?”

Michael paused. “Uh, both? It’s Ashton and Luke, so...maybe a bit of both.”

Calum hummed, gaze shifting back to the TV. It didn’t stop Michael from feeling exposed, still, suddenly vulnerable under the weight of his feelings. “That sounds fun.”

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

The evening had gone splendidly. Michael hadn’t really expected any less; Calum was such a sweet, caring person, and spending time with him was so easy and effortless. Dating him was just the same, only better, because now he got to hold his hand, and Calum didn’t hold back his fond or adoring looks anymore. Suffice to say, it was pretty perfect.

Calum got along just as well with Ashton and Luke, Michael was pleased to learn. He bantered back and forth with Ashton just as well as Michael did - maybe better, but Michael wasn’t about to admit that - and he was sweet with Luke.

Everything went well until Calum was coming back from the bathroom and heard Ashton make some stupid joke about Michael asking him out properly.

“What’ll it take you to ask him to be your boyfriend?” Ashton teased. “Will I have to bet you a week’s worth of pizza for you to get your courage?”

“What do you mean ask me?” Calum asked, confused. “I asked Michael to be my boyfriend earlier this week.”

Ashton’s eyebrows raised immediately. Uh oh. “You’re boyfriends?”

Michael flushed and gave Ashton a sheepish smile. “Uh...yeah?”

“Since when?”

“Since Tuesday…?”

“It’s Saturday. How did you not tell me-”

“I’ve been distracted,” Michael said helplessly, looking at Calum and doing his best pleading look to get some backup. Luke had gone to get their next round of drinks, and Calum liked him, so surely he wouldn’t mind.

Calum nodded. “It’s true, he’s been distracted. He’s spent every night since then at my place.” Michael nodded along with him before flushing darker at the implications and tipping his head back against the sticky back of the booth immediately, prepared to die right then and there of embarrassment.

Ashton shook his head slightly. “He’s been talking about you for weeks, I’m surprised he didn’t mention that you asked him out when it happened.”

Calum grinned. “For weeks, huh?”

Ashton gave him a returning grin. The same grin that meant nothing but trouble, that he was about to stir up shit in Michael’s life. “Yep. For weeks. I’ve heard about how pretty your eyes are at least thirty-seven times now.”

Ashton continued, and Michael resigned himself to being mortified for the rest of the evening, if not the rest of his life. Maybe introducing the two of them had been a horrible idea. Deep down, though, he was sort of giddy at the fact that they were getting along so well, even if they were teaming up to make Michael’s life a living hell. Finding Calum had been like the last puzzle piece slotting into place, rounding out his life into something whole and balanced and perfect. And he wouldn’t change it for the world, even if he had to endure a little mortification.

#malum #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #calum hood #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #my writing #5 seconds of summer fanfic #malum fanfic #lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin

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omiscurls · 3 years

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night sky - atsumu miya x reader

the volleyball player you're gonna be falling for today: miya atsumu

word count: 3900

summary quote: "See, Angel Eyes, there are some things that cannot be whispered, some feelings too strong to be degraded to the level of being silent."

and lets go!

***

"You were very endearing while you were half asleep, you know that?" he laughed, touching your nose with the tip of his cold finger. Your body shook, freezing a bit when the train door opened, and the icey night air flooded the inside. The girls' school uniform, mostly the skirt, surely wasn't designed for such weather conditions as the november nights provided.

"What time is it?" you just asked, still sleepy from the nap you took on his shoulder.

"Six thirty" he laughed quietly, putting you head back where it was previously resting. You didn't mind at all, after all, he was comfortable. "We're getting off in eight minutes, so try not to sleep" You nodded slightly, watching the city landscape change in a matter of seconds just outside the dirty window in front of you. The raindrops were creating lively patterns on the glass, changing every now and then due to the blowing wind. Kobee's lights were already on, because, as it was november, six thirty was already a mid-night hour. You looked around the smelly train, noticing only few people left, as the route was already coming towards it's last stop. You noticed two people you knew from school, going home as well, altough it seemed they were not riding together, as they both listened to music with headphones in.

You growled, pouting, when it was finally time to leave the warm train and walk four blocks home. At least you got your boyfriend with you, because walking alone in such darkness would definitely scare you, though you would never say that to his face, no, that would boost his ego too much. You smiled unconsciously as he took your hand into his, as if he was worried you'll get lost.

You followed him out of the train and into the station. You lowkey enjoyed the blue light of the the screens, showing which train will arrive next, the people rushing in every possible direction, as Kobee was a huge city, some of them waiting with their suitcases, coffee mugs in their hands, and some just going home with their backpacks, talking on the phone or listening to music. The shops on the main station were already closing down, but you two managed to get to McDonald's and order large fries, which Miya payed for, then insisting for you to eat them, because "he's suddenly not hungry anymore".

It stopped raining, when you finally got out of the train station, and walked into the cold night. He took your hand once more when you finished the fries.

"Ew, yer fingers are all greasy. Omi-kun would've freaked." he joked, glancing at you. You turned red, snapping away from his grip.

"Don't hold them, then, dumbass" you adjusted the scarf on your neck so it covered your cheeks. Like a stubborn kid, he got the hand out of your pocket and intertwined your fingers once more.

"Nah, you're gonna get cold if I don't, and we can't have that, can we, Angel Eyes?" you blushed once more at the nickname, facing away from him, so he doesn't get to satisfied with the impression he caused. All of the sudden he appeared in front of you, smiling widely.

"What's that, Angel Eyes, does the new nickname fluster ya in some kind of way?" You looked at him with pure irritation in your eyes, as he pulled you into a slight hug. "Hey, yer shoulders are shaking, are you cold?" suddenly he didn't sound like a douchebag, but concern took the place of confidence. You stayed silent, really hating to agree, but before you could disagree, he took of his jacket and put it on your shoulders. "Wait" he added, realizing one mistake, he made and took the jacket back for a second, grabbing your schoolbag and piled the strap on the one of his bag, resting it on his arm.

"That's heavy, give it back" you said, trying to reach for his shoulder, as he was way taller.

"Hell no, what sorta boyfriend would that make me?" he grinned, catching your wrist as you were halfway through to reaching your bag, already standing on your toes. "Aaand another point for Miya for blocking that!" he yelled, immitating the TV sport's commentator.

"You're not a blocker, though" you giggled, getting back to a comfortable, standing position.

"Aww, my Angel Eyes remembers what possition I play in? Well don't you deserve the best girlfriend award"

"Only because you never shut up about being the prettiest setter in Japan. And even that opinion is biased" he gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his forehead, as if he were about to faint.

"Well excuse me, I have to win a bet with an old friend of mine from a little village next to Tokyo. AND YOU COULD SUPPORT ME IN DOING SO, YOU KNOW" he pouted way too loud. You just rolled your eyes.

"And hey, I know you always watch me from the first row, I have eyes."

"I watch Osamu"

"Now THAT hurted" he looked at you with theatrical heartbreak in his sight. "You know what, you're walking alone for that" he added, leaving you there, next to the station, disappearing into the night. You laughed, at first, knowing that he still has your bag and has to come back, but then you shivered, feeling the cold wind against your bare skin, and remembered that he wanted to give you his jacket. You knew he was probably around the corner, waiting to scare you as you were walking around in search for him, so you decided to look.

But the longer you kept going back and forth around the fifteen metre distance he could possibly walk, there was no sight of him anywhere.

"Cool, Miya, now would you please get out? Or else I'm walking home!" you shouted, hoping that would get him to come out of his hiding spot, but you received no response. You held your arms against your chest to keep warm.

You heard footsteps behind you, and turned around, relieved, actually, that he'd came back.

"Finally, you dumba-" you didn't finish your sentence, noticing the person behind you wasn't Atsumu.

"What're you doing out here, freezing alone?" you heard the boy in front of you ask, but you were too distracted by his sudden appearance to respond.

You knew that boy, you knew him damn well, he was one of your closest friends, growing up, but then moved, because his father worked for the army and have to reposition every few years.

"Sato-kun? What're you doing here?" you asked in shock, looking at the boy you had seen for the last time around 4 years before, now standing in front of you, all grown up, so much, in fact, that you barely recognized him.

"Hello to you too, honey" he smiled, hugging you. You felt slightly uncomfortable, not liking to be touched by strangers, but then you remembered he wasn't a stranger. He was a guy that knew you to the bone since diapers.

But also the guy who then promised to keep in touch and disappeared from your life completely.

"Now would you mind explaining what're you doing here alone?"

"Oh, uhm, I am actually not-" you tried to explain, tilting your head around, searching for that idiot, Atsumu, but again, he was nowhere to be found.

"You do seem alone, though. Who would leave you here?" he said with a polite smile, but even so started to get on your nerves. You were not some pretty doll to be LEFT somewhere, what if you were just waiting for someone to show up?

"Well, it's a long story" you replied, but he insisted on keeping the conversation going.

"Mind telling me over a walk home? I do know where you live, obviously." You were still in too much shock to turn him down, mixed feelings flowing in and out of your head.

"Sato-kun, I am really interested in knowing your side of how the last 4 years have passed, but I am really with somebody right now" you answered, but noticed something else got his attention, like he was looking just above your shoulder.

You suddenly felt arms tie around your neck in an embrace, and felt someone bending over to match your level. The cologne you smelled was so iconic you'd recognize it from a mile away.

That idiot finally came back.

"Hi there, buddy!" he smiled politely, resting his chin on your shoulder. Considering the height difference, that must've been really uncomfortable, but what wouldn't Atsumu Miya do for a good first impression.

"Hi!" Sato responded, also smiling, but now less vividly than he did a while ago. "Who're you to lean over her like that?" he added, and the sound of possesiveness in his voice freaked you out. He wasn't in a position to say that, he left you here for four whole years.

"Oh I?" you boyfriend broke the embrace in order to straighten up and walk over to your childhood friend. It was safe to say he was at least fifteen centimetres taller. "Miya Atsumu" he said with such fake sweetness in his voice, that you couldn't help but smile a bit. "And do you mind explaining who you're to tell me I can't hug my girlfriend?" he scratched the back of his head, smiling from ear to ear, looking absolutely adorable, except from the fact that you and Sato were both scared to death. The taller boy reached out to Sato, wanting to shake his hand.

"Miya? Are you the spiker or the setter?" he asked, gripping Miya's hand. "See my brother plays volleyball and I think they've played against you on-"

Atsumu didn't let him finish. First he turned his head back to look at you with a pitiful expression in his eyes, then back to the boy.

"Did he now? I think I would've remembered seeing a face just as annoying as yours on the other side of the net" he laughed, patting his shoulder in a true "big brother" style. "I appreciate the recognition, I really do, but I have many people knowing my name on a daily basis, you know. Let's talk about you, instead!"

You were slightly freaked out by Atsumu's sudden sarcasm and bitterness, as you weren't used to seeing him... jelous? Is that how you'd describe it? He was a very confident person so he never got insecure about your relationship. He knew how crazy about him you really were, even if you tried to hide it as much as you could. You also knew about his affection to irritating people, but it was all jokes and nothing serious most of the time, and even if it was, he always managed to be lowkey and funny about it, but now it seemed as if he was dense and really pissed.

Did he have a bad day? Did you fail to ask him? Countless quesitons ran through your head, but you couldn't seem to recall anything like that. After all, what brought you two together was the fact that you always seemed to know what was happening in his head, even when he tried to hide it as much as possible.

"Sato Yakeru" he said, deadly glaring at Atsumu. "But why do you want to know, Miya-kun?" the boy put his hands on his hips, trying to gain back his confidence. "Are you really that insecure about the fact I took three minutes of you girl's precious time?"

This was not the Sato you remembered. That one was a sweet, sure, confident, but still sweet boy who always walked you to your house when you finished your classes, helped you with chemistry and played with your little sister when she interrupted your study dates. He always listened to all your problems, been there through all the ups and the downs and stood up for you whenever you needed that.

But now you've realized, he was always like that. He was always such a chauvinist, wanting to be the prince charming, wanting to rescue you out of any opression there was, but then you didn't mind, you didn't even notice, because you were percisely the little scared girl he wanted. And now that that's changed, he was suddenly irritating. Miya glanced back at you, concerned when he noticed you weariness. He looked Sato up and down with hatred in his eyes. Now, that's a look you hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Now, now" he laughed with pity. "Don't get too full of yourself there, little one" he said reffering to the fact that he was significantly taller than the boy "It takes a lot more than just a pipsqueak like you to make me loose my composure"

He came back to you taking both your cold hands into his.

"Was that boy bothering you, Angel Eyes? Do you know him?" you looked him deep in the eyes only to find him trying to mask his obvious irritation by acting calmly. You hesitated before answering, not wanting to deteriorate his mood even more.

"That's actually my childhood friend, 'Tsumu. I was just suprised to find out he was back in town"

He nodded, facing away from you, as if he was trying to calm down for real before letting you look into him again.

"What, didn't she tell you about me? Aw, that sucks, man" Sato laughed under his breath.

"What was that, munchkin? Couldn't hear ya." he smirked, proud of the childish insult. Once, you hear Osamu say that Atsumu's mental age decreases for about five years when he plays. Well, it decreases for seven when he gets angry. "Alright, honey, take the jacket now, you're trembling" Miya added much calmer, putting the fabric on your shoulders and adjusting it a bit so it covers the front of your body as well. You loved how big it was on you, you could literally fit your arm twice in those long sleeves of his. "Anything in particular ya want to do, or should we just head home?

You raised an eyebrow, not sure what he was getting at. You already agreed to go to your place and just chill, since it was friday, why was he asking now? And then, looking at the mixed expression painted across his face, you realized, he tried to show the other boy how different than him he truly is. You couldn't help but laugh.

How childish.

"Let's go, I'm getting tired" you responded, standing up on your toes, trying to match his eye level, knowing how much he adored that.

"Aight, we'll be going then. Pleased to meet ya, Sato-kun. Hope I'll never get the opportunity to speak to your annoying little face again." When you two walked passed the boy, he patted his shoulder. You heard giggling behind you.

"Fine then, short stuff, if you want to go somewhere and catch up this weekend, call me!" Yakeru shouted, already going his own way.

You froze upon hearing the nickname you've been called by him so many times in the past, and suddenly tears formed in your eyes, coming along with the memories you forgot you had.

"She won't!" Miya yelled back, putting his arm around your shoulder. You instinctly rested your head against his body.

Silence fell upon you two, nobody wanted to start the conversation, and to be honest, you already moved on from that little, ridiculous fight, and were now dwelling in your own thoughts, remembering all the happy times with Sato, back when you were kids and life was simpler.

"Short stuff, really? Out of all nicknames?" Atsumu finally said, out of nowhere, faking laughter. "It's the lack of creativity for me"

You didn't respond, barely even hearing him speak.

"I mean, it was obvious the guy was all pure vanilla and no flavour, but still, pathethic." he went on "And the nerve of this dude! Would ya believe? Who is he now, your prince charming coming to the rescue? Since when?" Atsumu started to get really worked up over something he should pay exactly zero shits to, but you chose not to interrupt him, afraid your voice will break, which was highly likely, judging from the tears, still present in your eyes. "Hey, Angel Eyes, shouldn't ya be telling me to shut up by now?"

He suddenly stopped walking, lifting your cheek with his finger, and noticed the little wet mark going across your cheek. Now quiet and worried, he wiped of it off, turning you around to be facing him directly.

"What's up?" he just asked, not knowing how to react. You were always the one to calm him down, not the other way around.

"Nothing's up, can we keep walking? I feel bad about you freezing without your jacket, I'll make you tea"

"I'm counting on that, but first stop with the bullshit and tell me" never once had he even sworn around you, so you guessed that he was still angry, even though he was being kind of supportive.

"It's just that... Oh, it's stupid. Forget it." You started walking again, causing him to have to run up to you.

"It's not stupid, come on. Was that guy bad memories?" he frowned, walking backwards to keep eye contact with you. You didn't respond.

"Or was it me? Did I overreact? Are you mad?" damn, you really didn't think you could shake him this much just by not reacting to what he was saying. You had trouble remembering when was the last time he ask if it was him that made you upset.

"No, nothing like that." you finally decided he'll blow up if you kept on staying silent. "That pathethic nickname you're so stressed about, it just brought up the version of him I'd much rather remember, instead of this <I'm a nice guy> piece of crap I've witnessed today."

Shock came across his face, hearing you get upset like that. He stayed silent for a while, going back to walking by your side, and not in front of you.

"So, uhm... is that why I never heard of him?" he asked quietly, it was almost a whisper. You glanced at him and noticed he was looking away, probably hiding how much it must've costed him to skip his pride and ask that. You took his hand in a reassurring gesture, finding that his fingers were pressed hard against the inside of the hand, so hard his knuckles were probably white by now. It took you a bit to untangle that, but he finally let you hold his hand, still not looking.

"No. I was just trying to forget that guy." your level of voice matched his, giving the conversation an intimate vibe.

"Why?"

"Well, he was my best friend all my life, but then moved away and cut me off, even though he promised never to do that" you kept staring at the pavement, holding back the wave of emotions.

"Was he always such a prick?" you giggled, hearing the noticeable accent on the word "prick". Miya looked at you and smiled as well. "What, does the word <prick> amuse ya? What're ya, five?"

You kept laughing even louder.

"What? What did I say?" he broke into laughter watching your eyes light up, but a clueless expression still decorated his face.

"Remind me why do I love you again, you brat?" you mumbled between bursts of uncontrollable giggling.

Something suddenly held you back from walking. You turned back to see Atsumu, staying still, pure shock in his eyes, red colouring his cheeks. He kept glaring at you as if you just came back from the dead.

"What is it?" you asked, holding back the amusement, still smiling widely.

"You... do?"

For a short while you didn't understand what he was reffering to, but when you finally got it, it shocked you as well.

Did you really just...? Was it really the first time? You knew that for so long it felt as if you'd already said it a thousand times before.

"Oh god, sorry, sorry, forget I said anything" you apologized, remembering his fear of commitment. You broke the grasp and started walking fast, but heard a loud "no wait!" behind you.

Miya managed to catch up with you and put both his hands on your shoulders.

"Wait, just... do you really...?" what, couldn't he say it? Didn't he feel the same way? Why would he be with you for so long if he didn't? Were you just a playtoy? Really, you wouldn't be suprised, judging by the stereotypes going around about him, but you really hoped you guys were different than that.

"I'm sorry if that's a bother to you" you said, tears forming in the corners of your eyes again. You heard him laugh almost histerically.

"God no, it's not, Angel Eyes, how could you think that?" he lifted your chin to look you in the eyes, but you faced away. He shook his head in disbelief, pulling you into a tight hug. You suddenly felt at home, burying your face into his t-shirt, smelling the cologne you so liked.

You didn't want that moment to end. Whatever he had to say, you were now sure it wasn't positive and you didn't want to think of him any different than right then and there: as you precious little saltshaker of a boyfriend who was unbearable to be around for most of the time, but you still adored every single word that came out of his mouth and loved him alltogether so much it hurted your brain to process it.

He probably felt his shirt becoming wet, though, because he leaned over just a bit, to be able to whisper something in your ear. You clenched your fists, waiting for the inevitable.

"Well if that's the case... then that makes all my previous possesiveness out of place, doesn't it?"

You didn't say anything back, not really knowing how, but you were sure, that in an embrace as tight as that one he surely felt your heart jumping out of your chest even more every growing second.

"Hey, Angel Eyes" he then said, pulling away from the hug, and smiling upon seeing your hands still squeezing his shirt, from how much you didn't want to let go. "Relax, I just want to look into those eyes. Also, I don't want to whisper, that's sorta out of character for me, right? See, Angel Eyes, there are some things that just cannot be whispered, some feelings too strong to be degraded to the level of being silent. So I wanted to use my full voice to say — and it's not an easy thing to say, because, ya see, not only did I fall for you, but I am in fact, still falling! And that feeling creeps me out every single day. I guess that's why I was so afraid to tell you this. But I got it now."

He cleared his throat, looked you in the eyes, and put your hair behind your ear, which caused you to shake, due to his fingers being extremly cold.

"I love you to the point where no words are enough."

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sp00kybitme · 3 years

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Okay so this is really personal but I feel like I need to share it in order to better my health because being upfront about your trauma is a good way to heal from it. So buckle up because this post is gonna be a real doozy:

So let's start by backing up about 4 years ago in the summer of 2017, I was 17 since my birthday follows the year number and I was going through my own personal turmoil, dealing with my already medically diagnosed PTSD, OCD, Anxiety disorder, and severe depression. I had falling outs with most all of my irl friends due to my declining mental health but the decline started around august as my therapist who worked the best for me was leaving the clinic. She was openly queer and I related a lot to her since I felt like for once I wasn't alone yet after she left I was distraught. Also at the time I had a falling out with my father and my brother was a recovering drug addict so you could say shit was really complicated around that time and my head space was not well.

So back in 2016 I was able to get a PS4 and I hadn't used it until 2017 due to being more focused on my mental health but I caved and began playing Overwatch and there I met some folks who made life seem somewhat normal for once, no high end conflict, no drama, just simple fun with friends is all I wanted and for a while I actually had that! That was until the coming month september.

So September was when I started breaking off from big friend groups and settled with 2 people, let's call them Z and J for context, So Z was someone who I would say had undiagnosed mental health issues and J was someone who was mutual friends with Z because they went to high school together. Z and J were some of my only friends and we as people really bonded over stuff and I felt like life was actually turning up after losing so much shit that year.

So just for preface/context: at this time I identified with she/her pronouns and went by the term pansexual/demiromantic but now after much time I identify with they/them pronouns and am at least asexual, as for romantic I'm still figuring that out. So November rolled around and I noticed conflict immediately, Z and J were subtly arguing and J was using a victim complex mentality to guilt Z into caving yet at the time I was an oblivious 17 year old who was just desperate was friendship to the point of trying to always be a mediator.

Z was always talking about how lonely they were and how every relationship they had never worked out and at the time I was not out about not being cisgender and so they perceived me as a girl. Throughout September to november they would CONSTANTLY ask me out to the point of it being a desperation and a guilt trip and at this point I was afraid. I had lost EVERYONE in my life here and it was so frustrating but for a month I would keep my boundaries up and say no because I genuinely wasn't interested in a relationship and I didnt feel taht way about Z but they continued to push me and eventually I gave in and I remember the exact place it happened.

So we all 3 had a daily routine of getting on and playing Overwatch for hours just to talk shit and goof around so that day we were skirmishing on the "Temple of anubis" map and I said yes and in retrospect it was a horrible time to do that because it was in front of J and in turn made them feel loke a 3rd wheel. I wanna say that me conceding into a relationship while having no attractiom or interest was wrong of me and that I apologize for but again I WAS pressured as a minor. Also I forgot to say that Z was 19 and while that kind of age gap isn't inherently the worst, I was still an emotionally vulnerable minor being coaxed into a relationship.

So things went on relatively the same except for the fact that J was beginning to sound more spiteful and ended up getting upset easier and volatile which I blamed myself for but we'll get more into J very soon. So Z and I were noticing the change in behavior but tried not to bother J with it because they always didn't wanna talk about it. J confided in us at one point by telling us about their living situation being troublesome, they claimed they had no privacy, were verbally abused by their mother, and had relatives who were also abusive. We both had empathy for J and I was strongly affected by that since I had a strong disconnect from my father at the time who was abusive in a religious way.

We tried to keep things relatively normal at this point for the sake of J but Z was always trying to be bluntly romantic with me and I wasn't interested although they did ask me for "thigh pics" (lemme preface by saying I was still a minor at this point) but I was coaxed into that and virtual s*x which I was extremely uncomfortable with but Z had a strong tendency to victimize and guilt trip and I just wanted friends and had PTSD from friends levaing me and calling me selfish. It's not something I'm proud of but I genuinely was THAT scared of losing friends. In instances where J would get spiteful and resent Z, J at one point left our group chat and group and didnt reply to us because they attempted s*icide. We were HORRIFIED to find that out and really tried to keep a close eye on J into the new year.

2018 rolls in and now is the year that I consider my worst, I will TW// onward for talks of verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, talks of s*xual assault, s*icide, homophobia, and gaslighting. So after J's s*icide attempt I felt even WORSE in a relationship that itself was already one sided but I powered through as to not upset Z. The friendship dynamic we had at this point was gone as it only seemed to be arguing and fake excitement. One thing we all did in the game was idolize specific characters and obsess over them for mental comfort to the point that we got emotionally distraught over their deaths in game, genuinely very unhealthy for all of us. One thing J would do at times was purposefully pick me and Z's characters in game in commit s*icide in game with them just to upset us and would sometimes mentally torture Z by forcing them to be the character Z hated which only screwed up Z's Mental health. J would also alwsys victimize and act like they weren't being treated fairly and that all culminated in January.

January 2018, J began putting the thought of a polyamorus relationship on the table as in J, Z, and I would all be in a relationship together which I wasn't too keen on but was open to if it made everyone happy. Z wasnt interested at all and for the span of 2 weeks of January, J kept trying to manipulate and coax Z into a relationship and had me try to convince Z as well which I didn't know was wrong but granted I didn't understand Poly relationships until years later. Z eventually half caved and gave it a try but a day later Z backed out because they felt uncomfortable. I was a bit irritated at that time and so was J but I didn't personally know why because I was very oblivious to love and how it was supposed to be. We also would play 1v1 type games for fun until this time because both of them were seriously bothered by losing in 1v1 games and would gloat when they won. I personally didn't care as much and would joke around for the most part just to have fun. After this month we stopped playing 1v1 type games.

Early February came and we all began hanging out in skirmish (which means like a map where you just freeroam for 30 minutes until it refreshes), sometimes we would do ship dynamics with each other for fun and at the time we were joking around. Me and J joked around about two male characters (Junkrat and Roadhog) being together and if you have seen the two characters then you'll know why. Their dynamic as friends is flawed but a popular one yet nonetheless I liked their dynamic as a relationship at the time. Around this time, Z was beginning to do what I would call "selective homophobia" as in they would like some gay ships and despise others. When Z was presented with a WLW (lesbian) ship, they would be 100% supportive yet when a specific MLM (gay) ship was presented, they would make gagging noises as if they were trying to throw up. I should also mention how often Z would send Overwatch porn to group chats and how it made me incredibly uncomfortable, especially as a minor.

J would ultimately hold the blatant homophobia against Z and tried to turn me again Z for it. During this time, J was messaging me privately to try and convince me that Z was a bad person and that I should break up with them. Ultimately I agreed and broke up with Z over this and me and J distanced myself from Z to just hang out together. I was personally distraught in just finding out that a friend I was close to ended up being Homophobic all this time and emotionally it broke me a lot. At the time, J was there to help me emotionally and that initially helped me build trust with them. Eventually in mid February they asked me out and since they had helped me so much mentally, I felt out of a sense of obligation that being with them was something I almost owed them.

Side note: I wanna bring up this point as just a weird coincidence: February itself has always been one of the worst months for me every year, something horrendous has happened to me each February of each year and its weird because of how often I can recall this still being the case.

So After being around J for so long we started to just joke around and have fun as friends. They actually showed me their face for the first time over a video call which actually surprised me because they looked different then I thought they were but nonetheless I enjoyed their company because I felt like I had a friend. March rolled around and my birthday was coming up, my 18th birthday which was more of a big deal to J than me. They wanted to see me in provocative pictures and were constantly talking about how excited they were for it and I didn't understand why really. They were also 19 btw and they seemed way too excited for something as simple as that kind of picture. The day rolled around and I felt uncomfortable, I was told to send pictures and I did which admittedly made me uncomfortable as hell yet I still did and I was given positive affirmation for it. Little fact about me is that one thing I didn't get much growing up was positive affirmation so getting that made me feel like I was actually doing something right for once.

Over the next few months, J went from supportive and well intent to showing their true colors. As time went on they began to get more and more controlling with the things that I did as an individual. It went from supoorting the fact that I struggled with PTSD to using it as a reason that I shouldn't be making other friends besides them. From being supportive of my open mindedness with sexuality to coaxing me into spewing hateful rhetoric. Their family was actually really supportive of me at first, the thibg they had said about their mom turned out to be a lie used to play on my sympathy because their mom adored me as a person and constantly would ask if me and my mom needed anything. They sent us two big care packages through the mail with food and money for food and I originally was against that not just because I'm genuinely horrible at taking gifts but because they had my physical address and knew where I lived in case they wanted to "visit". The care packages meant a lot to me and my mom because we've been low income since I was little and having the luxury to live in a house or not have to worry about food consumption was something I never had.

During late spring, J began to be a lot more forceful with me by manipulating and gaslighting me into thinking many toxic things. I was afraid at this point of both J and being alone again. They would tell me that I should start acting more feminine and "like a girl" and that was REALLY triggering to me since over a big part of my life, I was questioning my gender identity and being forced into this feminine box made me hate myself. They would tell me to wear "panties", talk higher pitched, and even tell me to be a submissive partner who just lets them lead and me follow. I'm naturally a more dominant person in general so it was like I was disregarding a huge part of my identity. I was almost silenced into this role that J wanted me to be. They would force me to do lewd things online and while you could say that I shouldn't have been worried since it wasn't irl, they knew my address and last name.

One instance I remember was that J asked about my deadname and I told them and then questioned why I would change that name since it "was more feminine and fit me". It was upsetting to hear that but at least they didn't deadname me after finding out. They also kept telling me that I wasnt allowed to be attracted to anyone but them. I wasn't allowed to protest because they would threaten killing themselves and actually send a picture of them with a knife to their throat as if to threaten me.

A detail I left out intentionally was something that disturbed me the most about them and really makes me think they have a serious form of some kind of dissociative mental disorder. (Context: I'm not stigmatizing folks who have Dissociative disorders, my mother has one and the symptoms J exhibited make me think of someone who experiences detachment or disillusionment. Im not going to diagnose them but my instinct makes me believe that it could be something similar yet they have never been medically diagnosed.) J would constantly talk about a friend they had in elementary school who had taken their own life and how the spirit of this friend still keeps near them since they were close back then. This friend almost seemed to become a way to manipulate me later on in 2018.

This friend of theirs almost seemed to be a way to seperate themselves from how they treated me or avoid blame. This friend would threaten me that if I didn't let J r*pe me that they were gonna commit s*icide and that it would be my fault for not doing what they wanted. They also would threaten me to do what J said or else they would "possess" me. I'm someone who has had bad experiences with spirits so I didn't want to have more hell. J themselves would sometimes get extremely angry when I stood up for myself or expressed stuff I was really interested in and would threaten to track me down, assault me, and kill my mom. They also began pitting me against my mom because I would talk about how my mom was getting worried about me being hurt but J said that my mom was faking it and manipulating me and I almost believed J but I know my mom and I know she cares too much about me to do something like that.

Around September, I was practically an emotionless shell. I wasn't excited about anything, I wasn't angry anymore, I was barely feeling much of anything but a deep seeded sadness. I lacked in a lot of places and repressed any emotion I had so deep that I couldn't react to anything anymore. I think J began to notice because they started to actually act concerned after a while but that was flickering like a light switch. One of the last instances that I broke down was august of 2018 when I began crying heavily over microphone and begging them to not hate me. They had no reaction, no remorse , no empathy and when their mom came in they just left me there crying without affirming me at all.

During this time, I was sending hundreds of nude photos a day to appease them and they would get off and go to sleep and during the night I would secretly cry and look at queer based things in private to try and keep some semblance of my identity in tact. I actually started watching Sanders sides around July 2018 and enjoyed the series and how nice the fanbase seemed and it somehow helped me get through this rough period of time.

October was probably some of the worst time because I ended up missing my favorite holiday, Halloween which was the only time I personally enjoyed being myself because the element of the holiday made me happy. That halloween I spent on overwatch with J, overall miserable and hating myself. I also forgot to mention that J would dictate what I wore, they would hate that I wore boxer briefs and men's cologne and deodorant, they constantly questioned why I was trying to be masculine when I was AFAB but again I was also closeted with my gender identity and this shoved me even more into the closet when they would argue with me about it.

November rolled around and I had practically been at my breaking point, J was trying to convince me for weeks to move down south to live with them and their family and I was practically being forced. I have a fear of flying and I kept saying that I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving my disabled mom by herself and my mom also hates flying. J was trying to get things their way and forced me too and I was looking into flights even though I was deadset on not going. November 11th 2018, I wasn't replying to J's texts right away because I was actually standing up for myself. They began HEAVILY threatening to end their life and I remember sitting there and crying without emotion then I hung up on them and told them to stop calling and texting me as they had begun to text and call me incessantly. I said I needed a break and finally let out a breath when they said ok.

Around late November, I felt as though I had misjudged Z and unblocked and messaged them, apologizing for being a dick to them. They initially forgave me and I was just going to move on but they asked if we could play in a public chill server and I accepted just to try and get my mind off of J. As we entered into the game, J suddenly started spectating and Z left instantly out of fear. I only talked to Z just to apologize and give context as to what happened, I was desensitized and just needed a friend. J messaged me apologizing frantically and saying "if you've moved on to date Z, just tell me so I can move on" and I said "no, I just needed a friend right now and I need my space. Don't talk to me for a while, respect that one thing." And thankfully, I was actually left alone.

December rolled around once again and at this point I had finally blocked J and moved on from everything, J's mom had messaged me on Facebook and told me that I was a "filthy cheater who just used J for their kindess and didn't care about them" but I did actually genuinely care deeply about J yet he abused my compassion by gaslighting me and putting me into this false sense of security. Before I could reply, she blocked me so she never actually took the time to ask me. I was feeling guilty for leaving J but I was reassured by Z during that time period and Z had apologised for previous comments as well. Z ended up introducing another friend to the group, we'll call them A. We would first play Overwatch but immediately switch to Minecraft which I had bought when still with J to play with their family. Around this time I had begun to cling to Z uninitentionally due to recovering from my trauma and needing that affirmation that I wasn't some terrible abuser, as J had manipulated me to think I was. Z was getting a bit bothered by this yet they had never publicly told me nor did they understand why I clung to them in the first place. Z knew I had PTSD and I had told them exactly what I had just described earlier about what J had done to me and Z was initially very empathetic though I was never told that my clinginess was bothering them because I was in recovery mode. Eventually towards the end of January, I was told by A that they knew why I was so clingy with Z. At first I was confused because they both had known that I had PTSD but A proceed. "The only reason you're so clingy with Z is because you're secretly still in love with them, I can read you like an open book and you would do best to stop denying your obvious feelings for them" Hearing this made me personally disgusted, appalled, and upset mentally. Z kept to the side during this discussion and didn't go against A however they didn't deny A's words.

I retorted by speaking about my trauma and how it made me cling to people unnecessarily but then A proceeded to invalidate my trauma by implying that I was over exaggerating what I had gone through. I felt awful and I forcefully distanced myself from them both only to go back once again out of fear of being alone. This continued for a while until July 10th, 2019 when I finally distanced myself from Z for good. I made my own account on Instagram and over the span of 2 years, I built up a community of people who liked my work and I got my sense of individualism back give or take. I recently changed accounts because this era in my life is brand new and I couldn't be happier with where I'm at.

This post is more so a form of being vulnerable and a bit of exposure therapy. Sure im not a perfect person, I can't even publicly out my abusers but I think it would do more harm than good. If anyone wants to have a warning for their accounts, at least on YouTube, message me on my Insta in my bio. I'm sorry if this was long and possibly upsetting but I wanted to just get this out. I dont know who would be seeing this but if you read this far: thank you, honestly its upsetting to have to go through so much bullshit and I hate talking about it because it's difficult to really put shit out there without feeling like its some tupe of attention thing. I don't want to post this for sympathy, I want to post this for me, just to feel better about where I'm at and also face my trauma head on to heal from it. I'm not saying this to compare who's life is worse or not but I am posting this to better myself.

Thank you again,

Spooky

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thisbrokenmask · 3 years

Text

Hallo-Scream!

pairing: female reader x jeon jungkook

genre: humour, fluff

word count: 2,833

rating: PG

warnings: there’s a scary mask but that’s pretty much it tbh

summary: it’s your first october with jungkook and you’re only just finding out how much he loves Halloween - because the other members won’t let him talk about the holiday until october 1st. once midnight ticks over, his planning and pranks are allowed to begin... but you’re his girlfriend, he won’t prank you, right?

a/n: I know Halloween has been and gone and we’re already nearly in December (eek!), but I finally got round to writing this one. I’m hoping to get my last few Halloween/autumn prompts written before I start posting my Christmassy ones, but this one was written for my ‘Scary Masks’ prompt for @btsholidaybingo

“3… 2… 1… aaaand we have lift-off!” Jungkook’s cheers are met by groans and shaking heads by everyone else in the room. Everyone, that is, except you, who doesn’t even know what to be groaning at as your boyfriend rubs his hands together mischievously. His wide grin stays on his face even when Tae throws a cushion at him, which you duck to avoid, a small giggle escaping him as he throws it back.

You’re all sat together in the large living room of the dorms, the lights dimmed to improve the atmosphere of your movie night. You’d been spending more time at the dorms lately and, now that you’d started staying over more frequently, you enjoyed the odd evening when everyone was free to spend time together. Even if Jimin was scrolling through his phone throughout most of the movie, Joon was clearly making notes on his phone more than he was watching and Yoongi looked like he’d definitely fallen asleep in the corner of the sofa, it was nice to simply spend time with everyone in the same room together.

You check your watch to see it’s just ticked over to midnight, but you’re still none the wiser. Your confusion is quickly picked up on by Joon, thankfully, who looks up from his phone and leans slightly closer to explain; “Jungkook counts down until October 1st every year so he can start planning Halloween: we don’t let him talk about it before then or else he’d start talking about it in July.”

“Really?” you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in response, more amazed that you never knew your boyfriend loved the holiday so much rather than his month-long dedication to it. You had friends who loved Halloween just as much, planning their costumes and decorations well in advance, but you’d never known your boyfriend was one of those people, too. Admittedly, it had only been mid-November the year before that you’d even started spending more time together, Jungkook having gotten over his shyness around you, and it had been another month before he’d invited you on your first date.

“Really,” Joon confirms with the air of a tired parent, which only made you chuckle even more. “I hope you’re ready, Y/N. He’ll have been saving up pranks and everything for this month alone.”

You scoff at that, never having been on the end of anything more than things like Jungkook hiding a door and jumping out at you playfully, if that could even be considered a prank. You didn’t believe he would do anything actually mean to you… would he? What if Joon was right, and he’d been saving up his best pranks all year just to use them on you in the build up to Halloween? You miss the smirk on Joon’s face as he watches this inner turmoil play out on your face: as much as he likes you, he was glad there was another person around this year to fall victim to Jungkook’s scarily brilliant mind when it came to pranks as it meant there was one less chance of it being him.

You turn back to your boyfriend just as he looks back to you, his cheeks slightly flushed from the impromptu pillow fight that had broken out between him and Tae before it was broken up by a disgruntled Seokjin, who was sat between them.

Jungkook notices your frown and tilts his head slightly, confusion pulling his eyebrows down even though the smile stays on his lips. “You okay?”

“You’re not gonna prank me, are you?” the question tumbles past your lips without you putting much thought into it, but it garners a round of laughter from the rest of the room, making you blush. Jungkook grins but the mischief in his eyes softens as he puts his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to him as he settles back into the sofa cushions, eyes back on the screen.

“Don’t worry, jagi,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Within a week, you begin to understand why Jungkook’s Halloween talk was limited to the month of October. Every time he saw you, be it between dance practices, recordings, writing sessions or whatever else they had planned, he would bring up something to do with the spooky holiday. He had an exhaustive list of costumes, most of which were couple themed this year now that he had you in his life, and had been collecting decor ideas for the dorm in a dedicated folder on his phone. You’d even heard Seokjin and Yoongi both tell him to stop sending them Halloween-themed foods they could make, yet their hearts never really seemed to be in the admonishments. It all seemed to be part of the tradition when it came to Halloween: Jungkook would bombard everyone with ideas and they’d half-heartedly tell him to stop while quietly enjoying his childlike excitement.

The pranks had slowly escalated over the last week or so since he’d finally been ‘allowed’ to start them. More than once, you’d heard the telltale giggles of Jungkook running away from whichever of his hyungs he’d chosen for his latest trick, and a few times you’d heard his calls for surrender after he’d been caught. His repertoire in the first week seemed to mainly consist of small yet annoying things, like switching the salt for sugar and offering cookies filled with toothpaste instead of cream (this one was apparently designed for Namjoon in particular and he fell for it every year, Jungkook always striking when Namjoon was distracted and less likely to question his offer of snacks).

True to his word, Jungkook had also left you out of most of the pranks, the few he’d actually played on you being no more harmless than hiding a few of your things around his room. Other than that, he’d avoided getting you involved.

Or so you’d thought.

It was midway through the second full week of October and you arrived at the dorm like normal. The other members were used to your presence and were happy to let you in even when Jungkook was busy, which you found him to be this time. Jimin and Seokjin were more than happy to keep you company, though, chatting with you in the kitchen over coffee (served only after Seokjin had checked the settings on the coffee machine and made sure that the sugar was, in fact, sugar) while Jungkook finished up in the studio. They tried not to show their jealousy over your minimal experience of falling victim to their maknae, but you assured them you were certain Jungkook would only be able to hold out for so long if he enjoyed them that much.

It’s only when Jungkook arrives home to find you three still talking that you realise you’d been talking with the older members for nearly an hour, your bag and jacket still beside your feet rather than in your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey, jagi,” Jungkook greets you with a quick kiss to your temple and a hug from behind, perching his chin on your shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist.

“Good day?” you ask, leaning back slightly to take in his side profile and giggling when he pulls you closer again, holding back from nuzzling into your neck while his hyungs are present. He hums happily, though, and you feel him nod against your shoulder.

Jimin and Seokjin speak between themselves in an attempt to give the two of you a bit of privacy, but quickly realise there was no point given their proximity. Seokjin declares he’s going to go and play some games until dinner, waving to no one in particular as he left the room, and Jimin quickly follows suit, claiming he was going to go and look for Taehyung, who’d been writing in his room most of the afternoon.

“‘m sorry I wasn’t here when you got here,” Jungkook waits until his hyungs have left before murmuring his apology into your shoulder, his body still bent over slightly as he hugs you.

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, lifting your hand to gently run your fingers through his hair, feeling him relax into you more with each second.

“Wanna take your stuff to my room?”

“Are you offering or are you telling me to do it?” you tease back, holding in your laughter as he huffs, some of his hair jumping up in your periphery from the rush of air.

“We can do it together,” he says, squeezing your waist slightly and finally turning his face into the crook of your neck. You hear and feel the small sigh that escapes him as he does so, knowing he’s probably been looking forward to seeing you all day.

“Is it really a two person job, though?” you muse, laughing when Jungkook huffs again and stands up, grabbing your hand and picking up your things at the same time.

“Yes,” he grins, turning back to you and leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to touch. “It’s definitely a two person job, because I’ve missed you and I want my hugs.” The pout that pushes at his lips would normally be enough to make you giggle and coo at him teasingly, but his dark eyes were focused so sharply on yours that you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

“Can’t argue with that,” you smirk, only to be rewarded with a quick yet gentle kiss to your lips before your boyfriend is turning and leading you to his room, his fingers interlocking with yours as he goes.

Jungkook’s room was arguably more familiar to you than the rest of the dorm. When you’d first started coming round, the two of you had spent a lot of time in his bedroom rather than in the rest of the dorm, too shy to experience your developing relationship under the gaze of the other members. As confident as Jungkook had become around you, he was still the youngest of seven and was wary that his hyungs would tease him relentlessly… which they did, but only after you’d left and he’d ventured back to join them.

Jungkook places your bag down in its usual spot beside his dresser and continues to guide you to his bed, falling down onto the mattress and pulling you down with him. You laugh into his neck as he pulls you into a tight embrace, your arms trapped between the two of you against his chest. You spend the next few minutes wrapped up in his warmth, your bodies relaxing against each other as the subtle aromas of his cologne and his shampoo mix together, calming you as you breathe them in. You’re pretty sure the different scents you associate with Jungkook are now more relaxing to you than the lavender diffuser you used to never be able to sleep without; even now, you can feel your eyes getting heavier as his warmth seeps through your clothes and his large hands gently rub up and down on the expanse of your back.

After several minutes of feeling like you could quite easily fall asleep here, though, you become aware of a growing need to use the bathroom, especially when Jungkook’s thighs are pressed right against your bladder. As much as you don’t want to move, the rational part of your brain knows that the quicker you go, the quicker you can come back and snuggle up with your boyfriend again, so you wiggle yourself free from his grasp.

Jungkook’s eyes open as you stand, his large eyes fluttering open to gaze up at you, his long hair surrounding his face like a halo against the sheets and his hands skimming your arms as they fall to gently rest across his tummy. His brow creases slightly, his lips pushing into yet another pout as you step back from the bed, and he lifts his arms out to you with grabby hands.

“Baby, come baacck,” he whines, “I’m not done with my cuddles yet!”

“You’re never done with cuddles,” you tease him, and his pout immediately melts away into a happy grin.

“That’s ‘cos you’re nice to cuddle,” he states matter-of-factly, still holding his arms out to you yet he makes no effort to sit up and pull you back.

“I’ll be back in a sec, okay?” you blow him a kiss and he pretends to catch it, eyes shimmering under the lights as he presses his hand to his lips, laughing wholeheartedly when you roll your eyes at him.

A few seconds after you shut the door and you come back into the bedroom to find him sitting up against the headboard on the other side of the bed, legs outstretched. He looks up from his phone and immediately puts it down on his bedside table, throwing his arms out towards you again and beckoning you over to join him. Just as you put your knee to the duvet and get ready to crawl across the bed towards him, however, he suddenly stops you.

“Can you grab me a hoodie or something, please?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Why couldn’t you get it while I was in the bathroom?” Jungkook pouts.

“I didn’t think about it then,” he says, cheeks colouring a slight pink. “I was just thinking about you coming back for cuddles. I wanted to get comfortable.”

You roll your eyes playfully but move over to the closet anyway, unaware of Jungkook’s eager gaze following you across the room.

You scream at the sharp bloodied teeth that meet your gaze, dark, empty eyes staring back at you from within Jungkook’s closet. Delighted laughter rings out behind you and you turn to see your boyfriend rolling gleefully across the bed while you’re still trying to get your heart to calm down in your chest, breath rapidly passing through your lips as the initial shock starts to wear off.

You grab the mask, cringing as the silicone facial features bend in your fist, before you fling it across the room where it slaps against Jungkook’s shoulder, the hanger it had been attached to falling to your feet. He only laughs harder, burying his face into his pillows to try and muffle himself as his shoulders shake and his feet kick at the blankets.

“You little-” you put your hand over your heart, feeling the rapid beating under your palm slowly start to subside, finally looking at the mask where it lies crumpled on the bed. It seems to be some sort of clown-type mask bearing large fang-like teeth, bloodied make up smeared across the features and two dark holes where the eyes should be.

“I’m sorry, jagi,” Jungkook finally manages to say through his subsiding laughter, rolling over and sitting up to look at you, wiping his tears from his eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t prank me!” you cry, folding your arms across your chest and looking away, staring a hole into the floor.

“Actually,” Jungkook raises to his knees and shuffles across the bed, trying to hide his smirk and failing as it pushes his cheeks up under his eyes. “I said I’d go easy on you, I never said I wouldn’t prank you.” He watches you for a moment before he holds his hands out towards you, his fingers gently brushing at your elbows. “You okay?” You scuff your foot against the carpet, feeling the adrenaline rush of the jumpscare easing off and now feeling a little bit embarrassed about screaming.

“...yeah,” you mutter, not looking up at him but taking a tiny step closer, letting his hands fully surround your arms. With a grin, he gently takes hold of your elbows and pulls you closer to him until your chest is once again against his. Even while he’s kneeling on the bed, he’s still able to tuck your head under his chin and wrap his arms around your shoulders, and you return his hold by letting your arms circle his waist. Jungkook snickers quickly above you, still preening at successfully playing a joke on you even as he strokes your hair.

When he pulls back to check your expression, you exaggerate your pout and look up at him through your lashes. He chuckles quietly but moves his hands to cup your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“How?” you arch a brow again, your interest piqued but not wanting to give away your eagerness at getting your own back.

“Any way you want,” he tells you with another kiss to your nose, gently pushing some of your hair back behind your ear. You mull over his words quietly, a grin slowly growing on your lips.

“Anything?” If Jungkook sees the fire starting to simmer behind your eyes, he doesn’t say anything; instead, he simply smirks, eyes darkening to match yours.

“Anything.”

#btsholidaybingo #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts humour #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jk fic #jk fluff #bts jungkook #bts jk #bts jjk #jjk

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tripstaysnoided · 4 years

Text

Flow Just Like Water

youtube

Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

#state of the uwunion #long post

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winterromanov · 5 years

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Maybe a college Bucky one where he’s being playing games out of town, and trying to study for exams and he’s just so tired but trying to keep going and reader makes him nap and relax and it’s just very Soft ☺️

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic)

Trying to play football and also be a competent college student is an Incredibly Difficult Feat. You know this, because watching Bucky vault himself from away games to home games to mid terms to finals is about the most exhausting thing you’ve ever seen. If he’s not studying he’s at practice, and if he’s not playing he’s in an exam. It’s like watching a manic, sleep-deprived whirlwind, living almost entirely off coffee and takeout noodles.

He’s not taking care of himself. He’s pushing and pushing and pushing, trying not to let anybody down--as if he could ever do that.

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you say, as he crashes face-down on the bed in your dorm, the night before he leaves to play a game at Harvard and minutes after his Cold War history deadline. You’ve not seen him eat anything the last twenty-four hours. “Look--you won the last game. Steve said you could sit this one out.”

A vague mumbling comes from your bed. His face is smothered by the pillow and he’s too exhausted to even turn over, so you poke his ass with your foot. His hand reaches out, reflexes still ridiculously quick, pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Sorry, love,” you smirk, curling as close to him as your tiny mattress will allow. His arm pulls you close to his waist, palm splayed across your back. His heartbeat is unrelenting beneath his shirt, thudding between you. “Didn’t quite hear that one.”

His head shifts so you’re basically nose-to-nose, his grin sleepy and delirious. He’s gonna pass out any second. You’ve seen it many, many times before in the last hectic few weeks--you’re probably gonna see it a few more. “I’ll be fine after nap. Promise.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep before I can force a pizza down you,” you warn, and he laughs, deliberately snuggling into the pillow and letting his eyes flicker closed. You can’t resist--running your hand through his hair, along his face. Kiss his forehead. “Goddamn it, Buck. You’re making it very difficult for me to look after you.”

“You being here is enough,” he says softly and before you have chance to reply he’s gone, lost in some dream. You slowly creep out of his embrace, making the pizza for him anyway. By the time you wake up the next day his body is a phantom shape in your bed but the pizza is gone--he’s left you a bright pink post-it note on the plate. Scribbled in his usual scrawl are the words thank you always favourite girl.

we won!!! harvard ain’t better than us at FOOTBALL

wish u could have been there

renaissance lit is being a bitch :(( well done you STAR. miss you more every moment so get back quick

should i hijack the bus and speed down the freeway

if you must

consider it done

love you

love you more than anything

The next game is thankfully a home one against Yale so you can at least keep an eye on him--you’re just protective, that’s all, not wanting him to burn out in front of you. There’s a lot of gym sessions and library cramming and a grand total of one dinner date at his apartment, where you made a pasta dish with as many vegetables as you could think of in as possible (his mom had sent you a message afterwards with immense gratitude because her son needed his greens, damn it). The following evening you’d wrapped yourself in one of his jerseys and sat in the bleachers alongside an injured Sam--injured and bitter about it--and waited in the lights and the noise for the game to begin.

“Bucky tells me you’re worried about him,” Sam interjects rather suddenly and when you blink back, he shrugs his non-injured shoulder nonchalantly. “Not that I blame you. That dude just doesn’t let up, does he?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shivering a little. The November air is cold, even wearing Bucky’s sweater. “He keeps telling me the season will be over before long, but I...I don’t want that to be a couple of weeks too much for him, you know?”

Sam hums thoughtfully. Around you, the crowd practically fizzes with excitement, covered with facepaint and aggressively chanting team songs at the opposing side. You’d never been to a college football game before you started dating one of the team’s star players, but you have to admit, the atmosphere is kinda addictive. Watching Bucky play is kinda addictive.

“If I know Bucky, and boy do I know him,” Sam eventually replies, squeezing up closer to you as more people gather into your stand. A girl is openly staring at you both--it doesn’t happen that often, but more so at games. People know Bucky, and Sam, so people know you. “He’ll get through this all okay. He always does, (Y/N). I’d been pretty damn surprised if he doesn’t make captain next year.”

You stare at the bright, clean grass of the field, and think of a boy so fucking exhausted from trying to balance his life that he can barely function half the time. Bucky would be an awesome captain. You just don’t want him to become a dead firework because of it.

The game ends up being pretty close but Yale just snatch the victory. It doesn’t mean that they can’t win the season, but. Bucky makes his way over to your stand at the end of the game like he always does, taking off his helmet and mouthguard. He also looks extremely deflated, like he always does when they lose.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking his face in your hands. He looks angry at himself. And you know what he’s thinking. I should have pushed harder. “Shit happens. You were still amazing.”

He kisses you over the barrier in a display of affection you were once too shy to give away in public, but you need him as much as he needs you. When you break apart you plant a chaste, gentle peck on his jawline, running your thumb over the shadow.

“You two make me sick,” Sam interrupts the moment, arms folded. Bucky flips him off while smiling sweetly and you can’t help but laugh. “Honestly. Didn’t ask to be violated, but here we are.”

“Payback for every single time I’ve walked in on you doing unspeakable things with the girl from the top floor on our kitchen counter.” Bucky snaps back teasingly. You like watching the banter unfold between the two of them. You’d be worried if Bucky and Sam weren’t taking the piss at every given opportunity.

Sam gestures pointedly at his injured right shoulder. “I cannot believe you’d treat a fallen comrade like that. I’m disgusted.”

“And so was I when I saw the state of the kitchen counter.” Bucky gives you one last kiss, clutching your hand. “See you after I hit the showers, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Your promise him, and his eyes glow just a little brighter.

When Bucky facetimes you from Brown the very next week, he looks like he hasn’t slept for at least three days. His Ancient Chinese history exam is literally a day after he arrives back from the trip and he’s frantically cramming in his hotel room in Rhode Island, while also trying not to fuck up the team’s chances of winning the season.

“Just one more game after this,” his grainy voice says on the other end of the video feed, head lolling against the headboard of his Holiday Inn bed. You wish he was in your bed. God, you wish he was in your bed. “And the season is over and I don’t have to be away from you ever again.”

“I don’t think your mom would like it if I stole you away for Thanksgiving.” You joke, tongue poking between your teeth. His lips curve, half a laugh escaping from his chest.

“That’s why she personally invited you to stay with us for the holidays. She’s worried you might sneak in there first and drag me to Virginia. She already knows I’d go wherever you go.”

Your smile is kinda wistful. “Except when you go to Rhode Island.”

“Except when I go to Rhode Island.” He repeats, sighing dramatically. He rubs one of his tired eyes. “Ugh. Who thought coinciding pre-Thanksgiving exams and football season was a good idea, huh?”

“I have no idea, but I’m prepared to have words with them.” You tilt your head. “Don’t work too hard, yeah? It’s one exam. It’ll all be okay in the end.”

“I know, I know.”

You want to keep talking, on and on until the early hours like you do sometimes, because time is apparently not real when you and Bucky are on the phone together. But he needs sleep, and you need sleep, and occasionally you’ll do things for the greater good. “Good luck for tomorrow. Brown won’t know what’s hit ‘em.”

“They better not,” he jokes, “Will you be live-streaming the game?”

As if you wouldn’t. You can’t pretend that you always know what’s going on or any of the rules, but you always try to watch him if you can. He’d do the same for you, over and over and over. “Already got the tab open on my laptop and everything.”

Bucky’s grin is near effervescent, even through your patchy wifi connection. “I love you more than anything, you know that?”

“I may have had an inkling.”

hello y/n

HELLLOOOOO

u know brown are the best losers because they lose and give you TEQUILA

omg are you drunk

never been DRUNK IN MY LIFE!!!! but im at this cool party and stEv e has found a girl and i miss u

i miss u so much . and like i just do generally

whenever ur not ar oUnd

oh sweet boy. you are very drunk.

im serious though

sometimes i think about how much i love you and it scares me

because then i th ink what it would be like if you wreent there

and that makes me so fucking sad i cant breathe

y/n

y/n ???????????????

hellooo

have u gone to bed

no, just messaging steve to make sure he gets you back safe. im not going anywhere. just please please look after yourself. love you always

“I’m sorry about those messages I sent you last night.”

You grab him in the tightest hug possible, his hold all still hanging off his arm, rain spattering down from dark clouds outside his apartment block. You hold him for at least ten years, you reckon, because the thought of him being so fucking sad he can’t breathe makes you so fucking sad you can’t breathe.

“You’re a terrible drunk who says things that make me emotional.” You laugh tearfully into his sweater and he grips you even harder, if possible. The shards of glass jabbed between your ribs start to dissolve as you inhale every single part of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I know.”

His last game is the day of your renaissance literature exam and for once you’ve been the one not eating and relying on caffeine, anxiety lingering round your jittery bones like an irritating ghost. Your interactions with Bucky are a battle between you wishing him aggressive luck for what could be the winning game while he equally aggressively says your exam will go fine, they always go fine, it’s an easy A for sure.

Your exam isn’t until the afternoon so you spend the morning pacing about your bedroom looking at a sporadic mess of post-it notes on your wall declaring quotes and context that you hope will just stick in your brain. When Lizzie from down the hall says there’s a package for you you don’t actually think much of it, too busy to deal with something you’ve probably forgotten you ordered from Amazon--but she makes some comment about how fancy it is, wrapped up in striped paper.

Your name is in print across the front so it doesn’t leave a clue on the sender, but as soon as you rip into it and find a bundle of things nestled between tissue paper, you know instantly. It’s kind of embarrassing you didn’t click sooner.

Dear Y/N - you’ll ace it, favourite gal.

You try not to break down in sleep-deprived and emotional tears as you pull out a brand new sweater in your favourite shade of burgundy, a vintage copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, three different kind of Hershey’s bars and a dumb little teddy bear wearing your college jersey. He’s sent you a fucking care package. He’s away at Princeton, and he’s sent you a care package, because exams drive you crazy and he’s just... Well, he’s Bucky.

i got your present

have i ever mentioned that i love you

i may have had an inkling

He doesn’t really leave you a choice, does he? Besides, the game is only at Princeton, and if you catch the train the moment you escape the uneasy warmth of a crowded exam hall you should be able to get there in time.

You’ve never been to Princeton stadium before, but you grab one of the last tickets available and rush onto their crowded bleachers just before the game is about to begin. The lights are heady, the atmosphere is electric, and you’re about to watch the man you lovingly, completely, unrelentingly call your own play the game he loves almost as much as you at a stadium forty miles from home.

hey steve, you text his closest friend, hoping he’ll see it, get buck to look at the front of the stairs near block d when you come out

y/n if this is what i think it means he’s going to lose his goddamn mind

When the team runs out you notice the number five on his jersey straight away, a constant fleeting image in your head from the countless games you’ve seen him play. Even from a distance, Steve’s eyes catch your own and his arm starts gesturing violently in your direction, Bucky taking a couple of moments to catch on.

It’s a good job the game isn’t due to start for a few more minutes, because absolutely nothing can stop him from automatically sprinting to your side of the field and kissing you senseless, cameras and crowds be damned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says on a dizzy outtake of breath.

“Couldn’t miss the last game of the season, could I?” You gently push his chest, urging him to go back to his team. “And neither can you. Go back to them. I’ll be waiting.”

He steals your lips for one more second, giddy and pumped full of adrenaline. “I really lucked out the day I met you, didn’t I?”

His mouth is hot. Hot. Unmistakable. Real. Always, always real. “Not as lucky as me.”

my masterlist

send me a request

#big oof #ridiculously fluffy #soft bucky #college!bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Wasteland, Baby, Chapter 2 (Crygi, Nicky x Jaida) - Metaluna

Summary: With the end drawing near, tensions are high, emotions are aplenty. As everyone need someone to lean on, secrets come out. a TW for descriptions of child abuse, not super graphic but still there

A/N: Hi guys! I’m back with another chapter. I didn’t anticipate going this long without an update but I was super stuck (I wrote a whole ass four chapter fic between the last chapter and now) A big thanks to Bell for helping me by beta reading xoxo Enjoy!!

While preparing for the end of the world, Jackie learned a lot of skills she never thought she would. There was never a time in her life where she thought she would learn how to make a radiation monitor out of a coffee can. She had to admit, learning about nuclear half-lives was much more interesting than she thought.

The one thing Jackie was nervous about was learning how to shoot a gun. She was nervous, her hands shook as Crystal handed her what she thought was a rifle. Crystal informed her it was a 12 gauge shotgun. Thankfully, because the house was in the middle of the woods, they didn’t have to worry about stray bullets or the noise.

“Jackie, you need to calm down.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re shaking! It’s not that bad, I learned to do this when I was like fourteen. You can do it.”

Crystal set up a mock shooting range in her backyard. She had rigged metal garbage can lids with spray painted targets haphazardly sprayed on into the trees. There was an old table with beer bottles spaced evenly apart on top. Jackie was impressed at the amount of time that Crystal put it all together.

“I’m a pacifist, Crystal.”

“You think I wanted to learn how to do all of this?”

Jackie fell silent. On the few occasions that Crystal did talk about all that she’d learned, she always looked unhappy. Jackie knew her best friend wasn’t happy with the direction her life took, and no matter how hard she tried to hide it, it showed.

Jackie took a deep breath in.

“Oh, no. You’re holding it all wrong. But that’s okay! Let me help you fix it!”

It was very clear that Crystal spent all day teaching children how to paint, and was probably damn good at it, if her ability to teach someone to fire a gun was at all similar to teaching a twelve year old how to paint a sunset. She explained to Jackie how to load the shotgun with the same tone that she probably used with her students.

“So first of all, even if it isn’t, always treat a gun like it’s loaded. It’s good practice, and sometimes you never know, you know?” She got behind Jackie to help her move her body into the correct position. “Move your left hand so it’s over the middle. Okay, great. Next go into firing position. Stand shoulder width apart. Good, good. Alright, so align your eye with the stock.”

“What the hell is the stock?”

“That’s the part… yeah, yeah, yeah. That part. Perfect. So okay yeah, align… Great. Put the butt closer to your shoulder.”

Jackie turned her head to look at Crystal.

“The butt. Of the gun. Okay good. Now. Flip the safety off. You’re gonna squeeze the trigger. Do it firmly like you’re shaking someone’s hand kinda. It’s going to hurt, I’m just warning you now. That’s the kickback. ”

Jackie shut her eyes and shot, and missed the target completely. The gunshot made her ears ring. Even though Crystal had warned her about recoil, she wasn’t prepared for feeling as though she was about to fall backwards. Thankfully, Crystal was behind her, holding her upright.

“Jackie, did you really just shut your eyes?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Here. Watch me do it.”

Jackie had never seen Crystal look so sure of anything in her entire life. She confidently took the gun and stood just the way she had shown. Without hesitation, she fired the gun and hit one of the beer bottles.

“Holy, shit Crystal! You did that!”

“And you can too.”

Even though she looked confident, Crystal had never been a confident markswoman. Whenever her and her aunt would go out back and practice, her aunt was always told how bad of a shot she was. As much as she hated to admit it, shooting a gun again felt nice.

“But did you see how I actually kept my eyes open?” Her tone was sarcastic.

“Shut up.” Jackie took the gun back.

“Also, to make sure the kickback isn’t as bad, make sure that you hold the gun tightly. You’ll still feel it but it won’t be as bad, and hopefully you won’t feel like you’re going to fall. I’ll still stand behind you just in case.”

Jackie exhaled as she took the shooting stance. She closed her left eye and looked ahead. She aimed, and squeezed the trigger. With a loud clang, the bullet hit the trash can lid. It wasn’t centered, but it was close.

“You did it!”

“I did it!”

“Now you can do it on your own. Try one of the bottles now.” Crystal stood to the side to watch Jackie’s technique.

After taking a deep breath, Jackie pulled the trigger, and barely grazed the neck of the bottle. Crystal encouraged her to try again. After another deep breath, she hit one of the beer bottles dead in the center, causing it to shatter.

Jackie was so excited seeing the bottle explode she started jumping up and down, forgetting she had a fully loaded weapon.

Crystal ducked. “Okay, so you really don’t want to do that with a loaded gun.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning on the safety.

“You did it!”

“I did it!”

Jackie shot three more bottles, and managed to hit the garbage lid dead in the center. Her confidence raised considerably. Maybe, just maybe, she could survive the end of the world.

–

The environment of the shelter was unlike anything Gigi had ever experienced. Everything was ran militaristically, even though she was pretty sure that the military wasn’t involved. The amount of structure was almost jarring. One night, Gigi and her friends accidentally loitered a little too long after dinner and were promptly yelled at by a man who probably dropped out of the police academy.

Gigi was incredibly thankful for her friends. They spent almost every moment together. However, they agreed to give each other space for a few hours every day. If the president made good on his promise, they would be spending an entire year together. During this time, everyone used the lackluster Wi-Fi to talk to their families.

Everyone except for Gigi.

As it turned out, the shelter had side rooms that Gigi wasn’t aware of. They were small and soundproof, and meant specifically to have private conversations. Everyone else spent time in the rooms every day. When her friends spoke to their loved ones, Gigi went into the common room and watched the news.

“That man is not right in the head,” a woman with a strong Russian accent sitting on the couch adjacent to Gigi announced.

“No, he’s not.”

“People like him are why I left my country.”

Gigi didn’t respond, and instead focused her attention on the television. Politics were never something that Gigi followed. She voted every November, but the extent of her knowledge of current events was via Twitter. Anytime she learned something bad happening in the world, she felt panicked. Usually, she could shake the feeling, but with the amount of stress she was under, this time she couldn’t. She felt her chest tighten and could hear her heartbeat.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked.

Gigi shook her head and left. By the time that she made it back to her room, Gigi was mid panic attack. She hoped that by the time she got there, there wouldn’t be anyone in the room. Unfortunately for her, Jan was sitting on her bed singing to herself.

“Gigi? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Can’t breathe.”

Jan wrapped Gigi into her arms. “Focus on your breathing. In and out.”

As Gigi tried to focus on her breathing as Jan stroked her hair.

“Thank you,” Gigi managed as she came down from her panic attack.

“Anytime. It’s a tough time and if I can ever help you, please come find me. I know what it’s like to have anxiety, and I don’t want you to go through this alone. Did anything trigger you?”

“The news.”

Gigi was genuinely surprised with how kind Jan was. She had known Gigi for just a few short days, and Jan treated her as if she’d known her for years. Her warmth was something that Gigi envied.

“Did you talk to your family today?”

“I got to talk to my mom a little bit today. It was…rough.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gigi offered.

“It just really sucks that I can’t be with her right now.” Jan’s voice broke. “She couldn’t afford to stay at a shelter. I offered up my spot, but she wouldn’t let me. She doesn’t have enough to even reinforce her apartment. It’s literally just her and her cat. I can’t be with them. They’re my only family.”

“Shh, Jan. It’s okay.” Gigi tried to mimic the way Jan stroked her hair. Comforting people was something Gigi never excelled in. She never knew what to do when people cried. Usually she felt so uncomfortable she started involuntarily laughing. Thankfully, she held it together.

“Thanks Gigi. What about you? Have you talked to your family?”

Gigi was hoping she could avoid this question. “Uh… Not exactly?”

Before Jan could question any further, Nicky and Jaida entered the room.

“Time for dinner, bitches,” Jaida announced.

As she stood up, Gigi could feel Jan’s eyes on her. Gigi knew no matter how hard she tried to dodge questions about her family, it would come up eventually, especially if Gigi was to be spending the entire year with the same group of girls. The thought continued as Gigi tried to force down the driest spaghetti and meatballs she ever had the displeasure of eating.

Jan stared at the large countdown clock on the wall. “Twelve hours, ladies.”

Twelve hours. In just twelve hours, life as they knew it was going to cease to exist. Gigi felt as though her stomach dropped to her feet. Jan wasn’t the only one who noticed. Everyone’s conversations in the dining hall all came to a halt, as they all looked at the ominous red numbers. As everyone sat in silence, Gigi had never felt so connected to a room of strangers before. A few moments later, the Russian woman Gigi sat next to started talking. All of the inhabitants in the shelter took this as a cue that they could start talking, too.

The women engaged in lighthearted banter. Somehow they went from talking about favorite ice cream flavors, to zodiacs, to first pets. Eventually, the bell announcing the end of dinner rang.

“Not how I imagined the last supper going” Nicky joked.

Gigi didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “It’s finally feeling real.”

Silently, the women made their way back to their room, and Jan promptly sat on the floor. One by one, the others joined her. Gigi was the last, sitting tentatively, trying to not think about how dirty the floor probably was. She reasoned with herself telling herself it had to be clean, since it was a newly built building.

“Circle time,” Jan announced with fake enthusiasm.

“I still can’t decide if I believe this is all a pissing contest between the president and Korea, or if I’m just trying to convince myself,” Jaida mused.

Nicky kissed her girl’s hand. “I hope it’s the pissing contest.“

Jan rubbed her hands together like a comic book villain. “Does anyone have any deep dirty secrets they want to convince?”

“Your first,” Gigi challenged.

“Okay. Sure. Well, when I got my first role, I didn’t get it based on talent alone. I fucked the casting director. No one knows that. Not even my best friend, Brita.”

“Damn, girl,” Jaida exclaimed. “I’m impressed.”

Jan flushed. “What about you?”

Jaida pursed her lips. “Nicky knows this. But, when I first moved to LA from Wisconsin, I was broke. Like, broke broke. Rent was due the next day, and I didn’t know what else to do. I walked past a stripclub and saw that there was an amateur night. That night I became Jaida Essence. I made enough to pay rent plus some.”

“Wow. I’m not surprised you made so much. You’re hot as fuck.”

“Thanks, G. It wasn’t just that one time. I did it enough that they eventually hired me. I quit about a month before I held your hair back at that party.”

“I’m in love with a strippa,” Nicky sang.

“Shut up!” Jaida playfully smacked her partner. “What do you have to say for yourself ma’am?”

“Mine sadly isn’t as shocking,” Nicky began. “When I was in university in France, I fucked my professor. It wasn’t for a grade or anything. She was just hot.”

The group laughed before Gigi asked, “What subject?”

“Ethics.”

“Oh, the irony,” Jaida said, rolling her eyes. “Gigi?”

Gigi thought about giving a disingenuous answer, but thought about how she couldn’t keep her secret forever. She sighed. “So, you know how I haven’t talked to any family since we’ve been here? Well, that’s because I don’t really… have a family.”

No one said anything, so Gigi continued. “My mom had me when she was seventeen years old. She was a senior in high school, and her boyfriend… my dad left her. I still don’t know who he is or where he is. Anyway. She made a lot of… poor decisions. I was taken from her when I was nine. I bounced from foster home to foster home until I eventually aged out of the system.”

“Wow,” Jaida said as she took Gigi’s hand.

No one wanted to ask, but they all had the same question, which Gigi knew.

“The reason I never told anyone is because I was, I don’t know, ashamed of it? I know I shouldn’t be because it made me who I am. All throughout school, I was surrounded by these rich kids from nuclear families,” Gigi cringed at her unfortunate word choice. “As I moved up in the fashion world, it was just all these privileged people that lived so opulently. Growing up, all the belongings I had growing up had to fit into a trash bag.”

Jan wrapped Gigi in a tight hug, and Nicky and Jaida followed suit. Gigi wasn’t sure how long they sat wordlessly holding each other. She shut her eyes and tried to take in the moment. She knew that in just a few hours, things weren’t going to be the same. She wasn’t going to be able to launch her new collection. She wasn’t going to have a design on the cover of Vogue. None of it mattered. In that moment, all she could focus on was the group of girls who were the family she never had.

–

Crystal and Jackie sat across from each other in the basement. Between the two of them was a bong. Jackie couldn’t calm down, and Crystal had a solution. Jackie had never smoked before. While Crystal knew starting someone on a bong wasn’t the best idea, it was all she had.

In the past few days, Crystal had taught Jackie a lot. It felt suiting that the last thing Crystal taught her was how to get high in an attempt to be calm. Just like with anything else, Crystal was an incredible teacher. Jackie successfully hit the bong, managing not to cough. Before too long, Jackie felt the weed hit her system.

“My arms feel heavy.”

“That would be the weed.”

“I wanna lay down,” Jackie said before dramatically falling backward onto a pillow. Crystal decided that the ground looked lovely and also laid down.

“One hour,” Crystal whispered as she looked at her watch.

“Things aren’t going to be the same, are they?” Jackie’s tone reminded Crystal of a child asking if there was a monster in their closet.

Jackie already knew her answer, but Crystal responded, “No.”

Suddenly, Jackie’s knowledge of foreign affairs bubbled to the surface. “Even if the president and the dictator don’t make good on their promises, our foreign affairs are fucked. It’s either the world ends, or more than likely all of our allies are going to pull out because he’s so unstable. If he threatened to nuke a whole country, no one is going to want to be our ally. If for whatever reason we had a world war, which honestly a huge possibility, we are fucked.”

Crystal blinked. She knew her best friend was smart, but anytime Jackie talked about politics, Crystal couldn’t help be impressed. “I’m too high to process what you just said, but I’m going to assume that whatever you said is really, really bad.”

“Correct.”

Crystal closed her eyes. She didn’t know how much time passed, it could have been seconds or minutes. “Hey Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Thank you for being there for me. You are the only friend I’ve ever had. You were there for me when my aunt was in one of her moods. You didn’t stare when I came into school with a black eye the next day. You are the only person who got to know me, and didn’t see me as the second coming of my aunt like everyone else did. I love you.”

Jackie sat up. “I love you too, Crystal. I was the new kid that had no friends. I ate in the bathroom until I met you. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, and I am thankful to call you my best friend.”

Tears began to form in Crystal’s eyes. She rested her head on Jackie’s shoulder. In a tone barely louder than a whisper she said, “I’m scared.”

“I am, too.”

Five minutes.

Jackie looked at her watch. “Fuck.”

Wordlessly, Crystal grabbed Jackie’s hands and held on for dear life.

Four minutes.

Jackie and Crystal were both crying. In the moment, both women felt so horrified they couldn’t speak.

Three minutes.

“Jackie…” Crystal trailed off unable to speak anymore.

Two minutes.

Jackie hugged Crystal tighter than she’d ever hugged anyone.

One minute.

“It’ll be okay,” Jackie said, trying to ease her own mind more than Crystal’s.

Zero.

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #jaida x nicky #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #jan sport #jackie cox #slow burn #lesbian au #wasteland baby #metaluna #tw child abuse #submission #s12

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slaminthebackofmy · 3 years

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i’m gonna put my playlist on shuffle and write what the songs remind me of while i listen to them, no one asked and no one cares but i’ve had so much caffeine and sugar today that there is no way in fresh hell i am going to bed anytime soon,

this is unnecessarily long, i’m just terrified of losing memories and i need these written down

deadroses - blackbear - september 2019 when i was getting ready for school. i used a rose cleansing water and the smell of it reminds me of this song, it was super warm and i had just come back from vacation in bulgaria with my family. used to watch the sunset with this song pretending i’m the main character. one time we went to a supermarket on the outskirts of town with this blasting in the car

anxiety - blackbear - almost the same as the previous one, october 2019 when i got led lights under my bed and i was just calming down from 4 months of paranoia and sleepless nights

one for the road - arctic monkeys - weird mood in december when all i would listen to was arctic monkeys and the nbhd, spent most nights on the dining room table blasting these just quiet enough to not wake my parents upstairs, my neighbours probably wished murder was legal

miroh - skz - miroh came out about a month after i found skz so i was still new to their music and the day it came out i was kinda sick and staying home from school so i got to enjoy the full thing in peace, i spent the next few days watching finding skz and then i blasted this throughout april which was a weird and rough month oh and also i started that other writing blog

often - the weeknd - i used to blast this in the 8th grade while i played that one paper airplane flash game before i discovered the magic of headphones fkgslkjgn

sweater weather - so many memories attached to this pretty bitch, finding it first through a sam and colby vine, walking home in the 6th grade from the dentist at night, standing on my balcony and watching super strong winds bring in very dark storm clouds almost completely covering the light from the sky above, except for one small window of light, last december

fantasy - dye - i found this i think last summer but it reminds me of my childhood and watching samurai jack for some reason

rumors - neffex - i accidentally clicked on a lyric video for this while i was staring at the moon one evening and the sky in the background picture of the video was exactly the same as the sky i was looking at and it just reminded me of a mid 2000′s teenagers room in my town, like older boys i used to have baby crushes on as a kid would have a room like that, gray walls, wooden desk with a computer and a bed with gray sheets with a window right above it and moonlight shining in, a red electrig guitar mounted on the wall and a skateboard leaned against the wall

arabella - arctic monkeys - i listened to an hour loop of this for a week straight non stop in december, i specifically remember dec 21st and wrote a lot on here

do i wanna know - arctic monkeys - there’s a few with this one, firsty it’s finding this song in the 9th grade when i was going to a youth club and i started listening to it because a girl from france that was there that i had a crush on liked it, secondly, finding bts in 2018 and listening to this while staring at the stars in a black tshirt, flannel and jeans with converse(yes i was that kid) and feeling the very moist air hit the back of my neck after we just got back from someone’s house that was selling clothes from home.

i miss the old u - blackbear - a lot of these are on my balcony because i love the sky lol but this one is too and just standing on my balcony in autumn 2019 after i got back from school just to watch the sky melt into a coral pink and orange

how you like that - blackpink - summer 2020, all i did was learn to play the ukulele and struggle with an issue i don’t wanna mention, the entire summer, with this playing in the background, i got my new laptop so i blasted this on there instead of my phone like most of the others on this list, also worked out to this song a lot

fly away - thefatrat - playing transformice in 2017 for HOURS and talking to dodgy people on there

dirty laundry - blackbear - you guessed it, getting ready for school in 2019, same as most other blackbear songs

god’s menu - skz - this came out the day after i got my laptop and the day that i got my ukulele, i remember watching the online concert while i waited for my mum to come home and bring me the uke, i watched it in my room in the dark and i literally had way more fun that i probably should have but they were so hyped up it was lovely

chateau - blackbear - autumn 2019 on my balcony watching the sunset

wonderland - caravan palace - similar to how you like that, listened to this all of summer 2020 while i was struggling with that issue, i used to pace around the second floor of my apartment with this song on and strut to the beat

feel special - twice - just when school started in 2019, i watched every studio ghibli movie that summer so i associate this song with those, i used to get ready for school with this blasting, and i remember dreaming about sana sitting in the rain a few times

pumped up kicks - going home from bulgaria in 2017 and getting stuck with no gas or cash in a little border town, we got there super late and most money exchanges were already closed so we had to get money from someone’s basement:) also summer 2020 when i learned to play this on the uke and it’s super easy and still my favourite one to play

why’d you only call me when you’re high - march 2018, i was making sugar cookies with leftover frozen dough from the last time i had made them, and while they were in the oven i went out on the balcony just to stare at the stars on the west

wow - danceracha - january, gameshow, that’s all i’m gonna say, i’ve been skipping through the songs once i wrote what i had to say but i’m gonna have to let this absolute bop play through, it’s the gay in me, why is this song so good what the FUCK

faggot - msi - reminds me of my childhood for some reason i think it was played a lot in some places, reminds me specifically of when i would walk home with my mum and see people sitting in an internet cafe we passed everynight that had neon signs inside

chronosaurus - april 2019, lee know saying tick tock tick tock getting closer was stuck in my head, almost got youtube premium just to be able to download that music video, may 2019, went on a school trip and listened to this on the days leading up to it, currently waiting for lee knows tick tock tick tock getting closer to play omfg why does he say it so well sjflkfj

505 - arctic monkeys - autumn - winter 2020, just sat in my dining room playing this and staring off into space

victory song - skz - LISTEN TO THIS 승전가, jisung and chan lifting their shirts lived rent free in my mind for a few months after this came out

cherry - itzy - summer 2020, issues and dancing a lot

get cool - skz - just got into them, feb 2019, used to listen to this when i was trying to learn their names🥺

hayloft - mother mother - oooohh a recent one, late january 2021, fell in love with a tiktok girl and decided to get my life together, played geoguessr with this on loop

love scenario - ikon - may 2018 when i was just really starting to get into kpop, this was one of the first non bts songs that i loved, i used to listen to it while reading wattpad lol

snap out of it - jan 2021, gameshow, reminds me of felix for some reason

hot girl bummer - late summer 2019, crying at night because of anxiety and pretending i was okie dokey during the day

daddy issues - the nbhd - may 7th 2018, super stormy outside, it was my younger cousins birthday, i spent the day in this one oversized shirt with donald duck printed all over it pretending i was talking to my crush at the time and staring at the rain clouds

be with you - cadmium - summer 2020, pacing around my apartment and those issues and finding this song through a video about those issues, i can’t find the channel anymore:(

reckless healy - january 2020, i was doing eyeliner all the time and just vibing, i had my doggie and all i did was scroll through tiktok and listen to music

ghost - confetti - november 2020, pretending i was the main character while singing this through my entire apartment

knee socks - arctic monkeys - same exact thing as arabella

goodnight i’ve been writing for so long and i’m finally tired

#for me #u can see my sparkle dying out as i continued the songs lol

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sleepykittypaws · 3 years

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The Christmas House

Original Air Date: November 23, 2020 (Hallmark) Where to Watch?: Hallmark will replay it multiple times this season, and for every season in perpetuity

It's impossible to review Hallmark's The Christmas House without noting that this time last year, then-Crown Media CEO Bill Abbott was personally taking phone calls from a SPLC-designated hate group, and pulling a Zola ad showing two brides chastely kissing from his network, at that hate group's behest. The ensuing firestorm of well-earned criticism following Abbott's bad judgement, is, without question, what brought us to today, with Abbott ousted, a woman of color, Wonya Lucas, now at Hallmark's helm, and a still totally G-rated holiday lineup that now regularly features former Hallmark no-gos like, interracial romance and LGBTQ+ inclusion, improving Hallmark's abysmal diversity record, one movie at a time.

So, even though Hallmark had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century, it's still hard not to be at least a little emotional that they're finally joining us here. The bigots are still having online temper tantrums about losing their all-white, all-straight safe space, but Hallmark's holiday ratings are up 7% year-over-year—a significant jump in a world where cable subscriptions are declining by 10-15% annually.

Now, what that progress looks like on a network known for being “clean,” conservative and about as unwilling to take risks as any channel on the planet, is another story. Frequent Hallmark star, and out gay actor, Jonathan Bennett, has been tirelessly talking about The Christmas House, since the day it went into production. And Bennett brings a lot of energy to this ensemble story, written by co-star Robert Buckley, of a family getting together to decorate their home one more time before it's sold.

Buckley and Bennett play the sons of Sharon Lawrence and Treat Williams, a recently retired couple struggling with that fundamental shift in their relationship. Buckley is the star of a ridiculous court show, Handsome Justice, of which we luckily get to see a clip, and Bennett, a baker, and his husband, played by Brad Harder, are waiting to hear about an adoption, after several previous disappointments.

Bennett and Buckley bring more humor than is normal for Hallmark to their portrayal of loving, competitive brothers, who clearly enjoy ribbing each other.

How conservative was past hallmark, you ask? Well, that Buckley's girl-next-door love interest is divorced, not widowed, is still a somewhat shocking twist in that world, as is the fact that both Buckley and Bennett are "allowed" to sport some facial scruff, rather than be clean shaven. Oh, and that the family next door is (gasp) Latino, is also something we likely wouldn't have seen in the Hallmark of yore. All of which is just mind-blowing, since those “days of yore” for this TV network were [checks notes]…2019, not 1968.

Lawrence and Williams are believable as a long term couple, and their life-change struggle to re-center their relationship feels real, but the way it's revealed is almost as anti-climactic as its resolution. The movie laid very unsubtle hints along the way—all storytelling progress aside, Hallmark movies are still written so you can half watch and not a miss a thing, allowing folks to join 20 minutes in, or do the dishes and come back without being confused—that Williams and Lawrence's wanting to have "one last Christmas" was about more than just downsizing in retirement.

When Lawrence told the story of the clearly-actually-brand-new-and-from-Homegoods Santa pot, and what it meant to her, I thought Williams was going to later accidentally break Checkov's sentimental teapot and, in her anger, Lawrence would blurt out something about that's why they were separating, shocking their grown sons.

And, honestly, as predictable as that would have been, it would probably have had more impact than what did happen…Lawrence just casually telling Buckley while stringing lights, and then nobody really mentioning it again, excepting oblique references during a single conversation between the brothers, and then Lawrence just announces at breakfast that they're not doing that after all.

Definitely feels like Hallmark's aversion to conflict in its stories is one of those provisions that is still firmly in place. (We saw a similar unwillingness to commit to actual marital difficulties, despite that being the central plot point, in Cranberry Christmas.)

Which is too bad, because Lawrence and Williams being much better than the actors usually used for these parent roles, could have handled a more realistic story well, and brought some real emotional beats to the movie.

As expected, Buckley's romance with Ana Ayora was the definite A-plot here, but why did their memory lane rekindling catalyst have to be close-up magic, the worst of all entertainment options? Was there no mime troop they could have been teenage members of? When it comes to magic, and jazz, I'm like Indiana Jones and snakes…Why'd it have to be magic?

Also, no way that 29-year-old guy they have playing "teenage" Mike grows up to be Robert Buckley. Nope! They definitely had to soft focus all the mostly unnecessary flashback scenes so that those actors, easily less than a decade younger than our leads, didn't quite look their age.

And, c'mon, Buckley, who, again, is the star of his own TV show, gives the love of his life a necklace he bought…in high school? For real? I'm surprised we couldn't see her neck turn green in real time. At least get a gal a little upgrade. Sheesh!

The whole rival real estate agent thing went nowhere. And what was that subplot even supposed to be about? Would have much rather seen a scene from the Handsome Justice episode where Buckley's character defended a dog accused of murder, than that whole waste of time.

On the other hand, loved the Grift body spray mentions, and so glad we go to see that ad. Hallmark doesn't do subtle—"But will they get it?" is basically the network's motto—but this is one case of subtext just being text that worked.

Oh and, how did his parents buy a house on the Hudson river just by selling a nice, but fairly average, suburban home? Sure, they said it was a fixer upper, but anything on the water is gonna be way more pricey than where they were, and you've still got to have the cash to do the fixing. Also, you know the old adage about how nothing soothes a struggling marriage like a whole house renovation project, amirite?

Speaking of money…Why didn't Buckley just buy his folks the house right away if he didn't want to see it go? I mean, even if he's only a mid-level TV star, this wasn't some extravegent manse, and certainly wouldn't be an unusual thing for a well-off child to do for their middle-class parents. Why all the rigamarole with the weird guy and the rescinded offer? And, like, what was that all about? So many stories I'd have rather seen from this talented cast than some of the filler we actually got.

Harder didn't get nearly enough to do, but he and Bennett had decent chemistry and they got most of the best lines. The joke about "Will we decorate like this for our kids," and Bennett's emphatic, "No," cut the tension of an emotional scene well, with perfect timing, making it actually, laugh out loud funny—a Hallmark rarity. And when Harder appears in doorway after hearing from the adoption agency, and Bennett knows just by looking at his face what the call said, I got emotional.

That all the couples in this one got to kiss, including Bennett and Harder, is important. With the specter of last year's Zola debacle absolutely lingering over the entire movie, it's hard to think of a better, actual example of #LoveWins, than that moment.

I also teared up when we saw Bennett and Harder's family at the end, not only because it was a long overdue Hallmark milestone, but also because Harder's real-life son, Kael, played he and Bennett's on-screen adopted child, and is just so stinking cute.

Am I giving this bonus points for finally having an LGBTQ+ storyline, even if it was pretty far from the foreground? For sure. But Buckley and Bennett also brought humor and heart to this one, of a variety not usually found on Hallmark, and Lawrence and Williams also upped the ante on the quality here. Notable that Hallmark also sprung for two actual, name-brand holiday songs, so they were willing to spend a little bit of extra cash on this effort, which says more about their “commitment to diversity” than years of empty promises ever did.

Would have liked House even more, if Hallmark had been brave enough to swap the storylines; Bennett falling in love the boy next door, and Buckley and his bride waiting to hear about adoption, but barring that, do wish it had been bit more of a true ensemble (i.e. all three love stories had equal weight).

Despite quibbles, I'm still putting this on top of the 2020 Hallmark heap, at least for the moment, because I laughed, I cried and I felt good about the progress that has been made, no matter how long overdue it is.

As I've said so many times, representation really does matter, particularly on a channel like Hallmark, which caters to exactly the audience that most needs to see LGBTQ+ people laughing, living and loving, just like every other family.

Representation really can change lives. It opens hearts and minds. It can help those struggling within themselves feel seen and worthy. Really can not underestimate how transformative these normalizing glimpses can be, particularly for a network like Hallmark, with a large "conservative" audience.

"Conservative" is in quotes, because there's nothing genuinely conservative about human rights, and respect for those unlike you. Empathy and acceptance for others should be a baseline standard for living in a society—not a political statement.

No one has the right to deny someone else's humanity, and someone's choice to hold hate in their heart deserves no respect from Hallmark, or society at large. Really hopeful that some kid out there who feels excluded and awful about themself because their family and upbringing has told them everything they're feeling is wrong and sinful, can now see representation like this on their family's safe space TV channel, and know it's going to be OK.

It's a small step, but it's definitely a good one, and I'm really looking forward to the actual lead LGBTQ+ holiday romances coming soon, like Hulu's Happiest Season (Nov. 25), Lifetime's The Christmas Setup (Dec. 12) and Paramount Network's Dashing in December (Dec. 13), and hoping Hallmark joins that club in 2021.

Until then…

Final Judgement: 3 Paws Up

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sheepsandcattle · 4 years

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Chapter 26

This chapter is a bit gory so beware!

“Hey, what the fuck do you want for Christmas?”

“Hm?” A spider is climbing up the side of the shed of whoever’s garden they’re in - one of those spindly ones that are so skinny you can see their dotty little knee joints. He can’t seem to take his eyes off the thing as it loses its grip every thirty seconds or so, dropping a few inches but catching itself with a web that’s too thin for Curly to see under the dim light that barely reaches them from the kitchen window.

They’ve claimed a garden chair each, somehow managing to sneak out to share a smoke while the garden is empty.

“Christmas. I’ve never bought for anyone before. Except for my mom, I mean, but…” He shrugs, dismissing the digression. “Ain’t got a clue what to get for you.”

For fuck sake, Christmas is coming up again. How the fuck did that happen? This year is lost on him. He’s not even sure if it’s November or December, honestly, but he’s not about to ask.

“Nowt,” he says with a shrug, taking a drag of their zoot and finally pulling his eyes away from the struggling spider as he leans over to hand the smoke to Jordan. “Never even thought about it. I don’t really want anything.”

“Well that sounds like bullshit,” He laughs lightly, pausing to take a drag and extending a leg to nudge Curly’s foot with his own. “C’mon,” he insists, smoke escaping him as he speaks. “If you don’t give me any ideas, you’ll still get a gift. It’ll just be a fuckin’ shitty one. Don’t make it hard for me.”

Curls mulls on this. He’s going to really fucking struggle this year; completely skint and no idea how much time he even has to make a bit more cash before Christmas comes around. As if on cue, The Darkness plays inside the house, the people inside all singing “feigning joy and surprise...” It’s bloody good tune as far as Christmas songs go but, given the timing, he can’t help but pull a face before the first line's even over.

“Maybe you could just do me a tattoo or summet,” he suggests on his exhale. “And I’ll find summet to do for you. Unless you’ve got your mind on—"

“No, yeah. I like that - it’s a good idea.” He looks genuinely pleased as he lifts a leg to prop his foot up on the arm of Curly’s chair. “You want another?”

Jordan’s nodding towards his hand, throwing Curls for a moment until he follows his eye line to the spliff between his fingers that's more or less bunt down to the filter now. “Yeah, go on then.”

***

Spliff 2.0 probably wasn’t necessary, especially since they smoked before they set out tonight but, now back in the kitchen and watching Jordan playfight with some guy called Scott that Curly’s not met before (but is pretty sure lives here), he’s still feeling clearer than he has at the last dozen house parties he’s been to.

They’d come back inside just as a small group of lads flooded into the garden and now, back in the kitchen, it reminds him of that night he spoke to Jordan for the first proper time, scissors in hand and t-shirt in bits and Jordan laughing at him and never even trying to hide it.

J’s laughing dopily as his mate gives him a decent shove and Curly's expression is probably similar as he looks on.

“Hey, you carrying?”

A bloke that looks vaguely familiar has slid up to lean against the counter beside him, but Curly couldn’t say where he knows him from. He’s looking straight ahead as if they’re gonna get nabbed for talking about drugs in a place like this, even after Jordan had said he’d spotted a bloke doing coke in the lounge earlier, before getting a spliff out for the two of them to share.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, mate.”

“Nothing? Weed, coke? Pills?”

“Not carrying tonight, mate,” Curls shrugs, still watching the man’s profile but with no better idea of where he’s sold to this guy before. “There’s a bloke here somewhere – orange top. I think he’s dealing, but—”

“Nah, nah,” the stranger interrupts him. “Your stuff's good. Yours is good.”

Somehow, he only then realises the man’s already on something, but his response remains the same as he shrugs. “Sorry,” and his eyes find Jordan again, who’s not playfighting anymore, but sending a frown his way.

He gives him the nod, which Curls returns, but this bloke to his left is bloody persistent, going on about Curly’s gear and J’s crowding his space within seconds, asking, “you good, pal?”

The stranger doesn’t even get to reply though, because Jordan’s mate’s followed him over and he’s shoving the guy as if a fight's started and Curly hadn’t even noticed. “The fuck are you doing here, Rory?”

He exchanges a look with Jordan, who doesn’t look any more in-the-know than himself as he nudges Curls with his elbow; a gesture for them to make moves – in record time too, as suddenly the two bickering men becomes a crowd of four as a couple more of the homeowner’s friends join the row.

He vaguely hears the bloke -Rory- say, “I’m just buying, relax,” and another bloke tells him, “you won’t find that shit here.”

“You know him?” Jordan asks now they stand at the opposite end of the room, Curly shaking his head as he watches the argument become a fight. “Oh shit,” J mutters when some of the lads from the garden re-join them, joining the fight as if they'd been waiting for it, and the herd of now-six guys go from shoving to throwing fists.

“Don’t,” Curly warns, a hand around Jordan’s arm before he can even think about jumping in. “It's not your fight. Keep out.”

Curly’s not sure who’s on what side, but that Rory fella manages to break loose for long enough to point in his direction as he shouts, “he’s got it!” - and Curls feels Jordan’s arm twitch in his hand.

“I fucking ‘aven’t,” he defends, although he's not sure exactly what he's being accused of, taken aback by how fuming the man looks now, glaring at Curly like he’s completely mugged him off. Even if he was dealing, he definitely wouldn’t be selling whatever shit this bloke is after.

“I’ve bought from you!” He’s red in the face now, and nobody’s throwing punches but holding him back – holding him away from Curly as if he weren’t talking like they were best mates a minute ago. “You and that redhead. I’ve fucking brought from you, you lying fucking junkie!”

“What the fuck,” Curly mumbles, shooting Jordan a confused look, but the man’s already snatching his arm from Curly’s hand and- “J, don’t—” he’s already drawing a fist back before punching the guy about four steps back. By the time Curly’s caught up enough to jump in after him, the growing group has closed up around Jordan and Rory, everyone starting up a fight of their own and leaving Curls to fight his way through the masses.

Someone grabs him, pulls him off to one side, and when he gets a look at the face, Scott’s raging as he asks him, “what the fuck are you dealing?”

“Nothing! Nothing, honest, all’s I’ve got on me is weed and I’m not—”

He still looks at Curly like he’s disgusting though as he warns, “don’t bring that other shit here.”

“Mate, I swear, I—” A glass breaks and it only distracts him for a second before he continues; “I don’t deal that shit – I swear I never have,” but then the rest of the room falls silent and Scott’s attention darts from Curly to something happening over his shoulder.

Someone shoves him from behind, sending him stumbling into Scott, and Curls almost apologises but realises the man’s too busy watching half of the crowd flood from the kitchen, rushing out of the house in near-silence and stumbling as they go.

“Dickheads,” he grumbles before he turns to pick Jordan out of the remaining crowd. All’s he can see is backs of heads though and everyone in the kitchen has gone quiet too except—

“Fuck, call an ambulance.”

He’s not sure who says it or why, but then he hears someone repeat Jordan's name and he can’t see him and suddenly he feels sick and his brain remembers how much weed he’s smoked and as he shoves through the bodies, the room begins to pulse around him and he doesn’t know why he’s got such a fucking bad feeling until his fears are confirmed.

“J,” he chokes when he sees him, lying on his back with a broken bottle by his head and his hands on his throat, blood pouring between his fingers. “Fuck, fuck. Jordan, you—Fuck has someone—” He looks to his left and the man there is on the phone, frantically repeating the word “ambulance, ambulance.”

He must look as useless as he feels when Scott appears beside Jordan with a dishtowel. Scott says, “move your hands, c’mon,” and he’s not sure if he even realised Jordan was still awake at that point, but the sight of his eyes half-opening as he nods, oddly calm as he moves his hands from his neck is a relief and suddenly he snaps out of it.

Curly drops to his knees and takes over, pushing the cloth to Jordan’s neck, unsure of where all of the blood is even coming from. “You’re alright,” he says, quiet now as he watches Jordan’s eyes close again. “J,” he says uselessly. “Oi, Jordan. J, open your eyes. Fuck, I’ve— Can someone—”

“I got it, I got it,” Scott tells him, taking over again as Curly pulls his hands back, holding them shakily and uselessly in mid-air before him. They’re already covered in liquid red as he sways back to sit on the cold tile as bile rises in his throat and his vision goes blotchy. “Get everyone out,” the man tells someone, and Curly screws his eyes shut and forces himself to get over it, shaking his head when Scott adds, “take Curly out back.”

“I’m alright, I’m fine,” he mumbles, opening his eyes again but training them down to where Jordan’s chest is still rising and falling even as he remains unresponsive.

***

In the ambulance, the paramedic had tried to give Curly one of those silly shock blankets. He’d snapped at the guy in return because his boyfriend was bleeding out between them, but then spent the rest of the journey apologising as a second paramedic tended to Jordan as best he could in the back of the van.

Jordan was passed out which meant Curly had to answer all of their questions; has he been drinking? Is he on drugs? What kind? And somehow the seven-minute drive felt closer to thirty and every bump in the road felt as lethal as a Staffordshire pothole.

“Curly.”

He doesn’t even look up from his hands. There are brown and red specks stuck under his nails, chipped black polish failing to cover the mess as he pecks it away silently. He’s shivering all over, his high long gone and leaving him painfully sober in the harsh plastic chair of the waiting room.

“Curls, I’m getting coffee. You want one?” Dean is standing over him, but he doesn’t dare lift his gaze from his lap. His shirt still feels wet against his chest from wiping his hands clean in a panic. He knows logically that it’ll be dry by now, but.

“I feel sick,” he whispers, shaking his head ever so slightly.

Dean’s shoe squeaks as he shifts, lowering himself before Curly until he’s kneeling in front of him. His friend places a hand on his knee and his convulsing shivers only worsen. The man says, “Curls, he’ll be alright. Doctor says it’s big, but it isn’t too deep. He’ll be alright,” he repeats.

“I feel like—” He swallows, shakes his head, shuts his eyes, but then darts them open when that image creeps up on him again. “Feel like I watched him die. I don’t even—”

“He didn’t die,” Dean reminds him, his hand leaving Curly’s knee. “He’s a lucky bastard,” he tries to joke.

Miraculously, he’s not cried yet. Too stressed to cry, probably. He dry-heaved in the ambulance, sure, but he put it down to travel sickness at the time, said, “It’s ‘cause there’s no windows – will you get that daft bloody blanket away from me.” He still feels about as close to vomiting now, but it’s beside the point.

He takes a deep breath, dragging his hands over his face and daring to raise his head to meet his friend's eyes now. “You don’t get it, we—” He swallows down the nausea that creeps over him. “He’s—We’re not,” he scoffs, almost pissed off at himself for making such a fuss of this when Jordan’s getting his neck stitched up down the corridor. “Jordan and I aren't just-“

“I know,” Dean interrupts, putting him out of his misery. “Jeff too. We know,” he tells him, and Curly’s not sure what to say now – almost says sorry until the man adds, “like I said; lucky bastard,” and ruffles Curly’s hair as he stands.

***

“I ought to bloody kill you,” he growls, shaking just as much now as he had been all those hours ago. The blood has washed from his hands, but it’s still stained on his top and the backs of his eyelids. When all’s he gets is a hum in response, Curly adds, “I’m so bloody angry at you,” but it gets all choked up in his throat and loses its fury.

The ER’s full of eery noises and harsh lights – all clinical and no comfort, which he supposes was effective in saving his boyfriend's life, but it didn’t bloody help with the panic attack he had when Jordan was taken into surgery. Dean just barely caught the end of it and, by the time they got a hold of Jeff, who arrived a couple of hours later, Curly was managing to string sentences together again.

He promised to ring them when Jordan was up, but they can wait for a while.

“Sorry,” Jordan mumbles, followed by a dry gulp as he shuts his eyes for a moment and suddenly Curly feels bad for coaxing a word out of him. J looks a little confused, eyes moving about the room before they return to Curly, where they dart to his stained shirt and back again. “That bad?”

He nods. “You better start thinking of tattoo ideas because you’re gonna have a fat scar.”

Jordan goes back to humming in response, closing his eyes as he takes a few long breaths. “You look sick,” he tells Curly, who scoffs as he tucks his chair closer to the man’s bedside.

“Worried sick,” Curls sulks as he rests his arms on the bed, the fingers of one hand slipping around Jordan’s wrist when he spies the man moving his arm as if planning to touch his neck. “Eight stitches,” he tells him. “You don’t need to touch ‘em.”

All Jordan has to say is, “shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” Curls huffs, and the room falls silent as J stares up at the ceiling like he’s still recalling the events of last night. “It’s not that deep,” Curly decides to tell him. “It’s big, but it’s not deep enough to…” What’s a nice way of saying instantly kill you? What was it the doctor said? “If it was a knife, you’d be dead.”

“It didn’t hurt,” Jordan tells him. “I didn’t even realise, ‘til some guy said.” The image of Jordan on the floor flashes in his mind; how calm he’d looked as he nodded and pulled his hands away, revealing nothing but thick, dark red. The man frowns, but a chuckle follows. “Fucking hurts now.”

Nodding, Curly forgets to respond as his eyes dart over Jordan’s face, who looks back at him, looking guilty now as he pulls his wrist from Curly’s grasp to instead tangle his fingers in the back of his hair. He mumbles, “c’mere,” tugging Curls to rest his head on his hip. “I’m fine.”

“I never sold him gear, J,” he finds himself saying, his neck feeling hot at the memory of Scott looking at him like he was dirty – a memory he’s only just now recalling, now that Jordan’s awake and telling him he’s okay. “Jules sells that, I don’t—”

“I know,” Jordan says before he repeats, “I’m sorry. That kid was fuckin’ tweaking or some shit. Wasn’t our fight.” He swallows again, eyes shut and Curly can tell it hurts.

Turning his head to press a kiss to wherever his lips happen to land, Curly mutters, “we’ll talk about it more later.”

Jordan’s already shutting his eyes and Curly bites the I love you off the tip of his tongue.

#ch #ch26 #writing #'wtf do u want for christmas' 'nowt' 'do u want another spliff' 'yh go on then' ROMANCE

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aggressivelyclueless · 4 years

Text

hey @kiinotasha this one’s for you

human!Danny/runaway/pitch-pearl

a handful of regret, a little solace, and a pinch of fluff

i know it’s super late but thanks so much for being patient! the end bit took me like six tries to get it to stick how i wanted

i will also be posting this on ao3 at some point fyi

Winter had officially rolled in that morning. Amity Park had all but shut down with the snow - after-school activities had been canceled; the highways had turned to skating rinks in the mid-morning sleet; even retailers had begun to close their doors for the afternoon to wait out the worst of the storm. Before five o'clock, when the sun would have set, the streets were vacant. Everyone, it seemed, had holed up at home.

Everyone except Danny. Nevermind the snow - he couldn't stand to spend another minute at the house. His mother's accusing voice still cut through his mind: you'll never listen to reason, will you? Look at the facts, Jack! It's simply not possible! None of it had been directed at Danny, but he resented both of his parents nonetheless. December, to him, was the season of hey-Tuck-can-I-stay-the-weekend and please-Sam-I'll-do-anything-to-be-out-of-the-house and if-I-have-to-keep-putting-up-with-this-I'll-die. When he wasn't home, at least he could hear himself think!

It wasn't fair. He hated how easily any conversation could slide into animosity, he hated the gnawing misery that crept up steadily from November onwards (and that was if he was lucky - one year the radio stations had all conspired to deliver tell-tale sleigh bells as early as October the twenty-first), and he hated how no one listened whenever he said he disliked the holidays. It was always oh, but you've got to celebrate something, don't you? or how can you be so sour at such a lovely time of year? or the affronted but surely everyone loves Christmas! as if he'd stricken the event from the calendar simply by wishing it ill.

If only.

So, despite the snow and despite the cold, he'd made his way out to the Nasty Burger in the hope it would still have been open, and in the hope that Sam and Tucker might still be there. It wasn't; they weren't; and after a moment of overwhelming frustration and despair he'd turned tail and run. In that moment, he didn't care where he ended up, or how far away it was - all that mattered was that he left his stupid house and his stupid parents and their stupid fight behind. Forget the snow, the fire in his belly grumbled, forget the cold. Just run.

By the time he'd run out of breath, he'd made it as far as the bus station out of town. He had a few bucks on him, but only one line was still running due to the snow. He didn't care; he took it, ignoring the rough night out there, isn't it? from the driver as he boarded, and collapsed into one of the seats in the back. He wondered how far he'd really have to go before he could escape the last echoes of his mother's voice. Even then, as the bus trundled sluggishly through the snow, he could still hear her.

It's not possible, Jack! Such a feat defies science! Jack, you can't be that foolish!

How many years of it did they expect him to take?

By the time the bus dropped him off, he was numb. The doors creaked open, he shuffled out, and the cold bit him anew. It was dark out now - how far had he gone, he wondered. The streets certainly looked the same. Had he ended up a town over? Three towns? Ten? Distance meant nothing; the bus doors closed behind him, and it lumbered off.

He was on his own.

The snow appeared to have let up, although it hadn't quit entirely. It fell not with icy malice but was fat-flaked and lazy, and the scene before him was silent save for a street-plow that rumbled from the parking lot down the road.

Isn't this what you wanted? to hear yourself think?

His mind began to tick again, and the lonesomeness finally struck him. He really was on his own, without Sam or Tucker or even Jazz at his side, and the silence of the town seemed to press in on him. Go on, something in him whispered, you wanted to be alone, didn't you? How long do you think before they'll even notice you're gone? Two or three days, maybe? Or maybe they'll only think twice on the twenty-sixth, after they've wrapped up?

He couldn't bear to think that. Tears stung in the corners of his eyes, refusing to be dismissed by his palm or the back of his sleeve, and the tightness of pent-up anger gave way in an instant to a cold hard lump of dread. He really was alone.

Now what?

He turned to the road again. The bus had dropped him off near the edge of town, it seemed - how far had he really gotten from Amity Park? Where had he ended up? He didn't remember which line he'd taken, just that it had been the only one available to him, and he cursed himself out for it. How stupid are you? Out of all the days you could have picked to run off, you decided that the best time to do that was in the middle of the snow? Great going, idiot!

He held his mobile in one hand. It didn't like the cold; it had been at 66% earlier that afternoon, but had steadily dripped down to 27% within the span of an hour or two, and it skipped to 16% even as he stared down at it. You know no one's going to be able to come get you, right? said the sharp voice of guilt. You think even the Fenton RV could handle the roads like this? and that's assuming Mom and Dad quit arguing long enough to even answer if you call home. . .

He had to call anyway. He knew that much, even as his vision blurred around the edges and tears froze in the corners of his eyes. He slipped behind a line of shrubs to escape the wind, hit Home, and tried to collect himself as he waited for anyone to pick up.

Come on, please, I'm so sorry. . .

"Hello - ?"

"Mom? I'm so sorry please don't be mad I need you to - Mom?"

The mobile had died in his hand, but for a desperate moment he failed to process. "Mom. . .?"

Something in him cracked, and he stared down at the device. The screen was dark, and failed to respond to his touch, but it felt as if he'd been purposefully abandoned. Look what you've done. This is your fault. What are you gonna do now?

He didn't have an answer for that one. Don't stay out too late, kiddo, you'll freeze out there! He remembered his father saying that once, when he'd said he and Tucker were going to go out. That had been last year, in January after the fights were over and there was enough snow to go sledding. He remembered, too, that he'd had a second jacket then.

Would he really freeze?

He shoved the mobile back into his pocket. It hadn't been quite so cold earlier - how long had he already been out? There had been daylight for a while. An hour, maybe? That sounded about right. It always got dark early in December. Still, he'd have to find someplace to hole up. Maybe this town's Nasty Burger, or MacMeaty's - they'd still be open, probably, and they might even have a phone he could borrow.

That, and then he'd find out how far he'd gotten himself from home.

With a basic objective in mind, he set off again. So long as he was moving, the cold didn't seem so bad. The storm had relented, at least, and it didn't look to have snowed as badly as it had in Amity Park - but, out of familiar territory, he was lost. With only one direction to go, he kept along the side of the road in the hopes it would lead him into town.

The road led him through a stretch of trees, all heavy with snow and ice and bowing downwards, and he knew the rest of the town couldn't be too far ahead. The hazy yellow of the streetlights was cast into the sky somewhere to his left, and as soon as he spotted the path off the main road he took it. He hardly registered anything else until the pavement gave way to uneven dirt under the snow, and he paused; not city streets but a cemetery sprawled out before him, but he only hesitated for a second before treading onwards, ignoring his own superstitions. Graveyard, went his mind blankly in an effort to get the word to stick to something. It didn't.

The breeze shifted suddenly, and Danny stopped. It wasn't that the snow was going to pick up again - it appeared to have quit for the moment - but something was so awfully and so suddenly wrong that, for one perplexing instant, he was pulled out of coherent thought altogether.

Graveyard finally stuck.

Danny turned about himself. The only tracks in the snow were his, and without the snowfall everything around him was perfectly still. Why, then, could he so clearly feel the eyes upon him? Where were they coming from? Without meaning to, he cast his gaze downwards - have you stepped on someone? - but could discern nothing from the blanket of white beneath him. It was bad luck, he'd been told once, to tread on a body at rest. Had he just done that? He stepped back as if he had, although he couldn't really tell for sure. "Sorry," he mumbled, as if it was adequate, and felt stupid. Look at you by yourself in the dark, apologizing to someone who's already dead, who you probably didn't even step on anyhow. What, like they're going to care?

Ghosts, according to Danny, weren't real. That was a fact in his mind. Both of his parents had been ghosthunters for their entire careers, as far as he was aware, and neither one of them had actually seen one. If the anomalies did exist, surely one would have been caught by now?

What manifested before him, however, looked very much like how he imagined a ghost to look. It appeared, suddenly but without a sound, on one of the headstones still visible under the snow. Its body was cast predominantly in shadow except for two bright green eyes which were most definitely affixed on him. It was vaguely human-shaped, although Danny had to squint a little to see it; it was peering out at him from behind the stone, or at least that's what he thought it looked like it was doing, and when he stared it flinched back.

Ghost, went Danny's mind, and the sentiment stuck the first time. It couldn't have been real, and yet it was exactly like every explanation his parents had ever given him about one. Great. What does it want? Do you really have to deal with this too now?

The spirit - if that was what it really was - stared back in equal silence. Danny hadn't fled; emboldened somewhat, it crept upwards to peer over the top of the tombstone rather than from around the side. Its body remained mostly in shadow, and only when it moved were the white wisps of its fingers and hair visible against the backdrop of snow. It grasped the corner of the stone, as if looking over a tall countertop, and was still again. After a moment of deliberation, it finally spoke: (Lost?)

Danny hesitated. What could he reasonably expect to tell it - that he'd come out here by himself to get away from his parents and that he couldn't get back home? Nevermind, for the moment, that this was a genuine ghost. "What?"

(You didn't run) said the ghost, almost optimistically, eyes still on Danny. (How come?)

Danny stiffened. "Hey, wait a sec, what's it to you, anyway? Are you even real?"

The shadow slumped, and the eyes fell. (Yeah)

A small part of Danny was surprised at how quickly he'd accepted than answer - then again, he'd been told since infancy that the anomalies were real, and had only really rejected it out of spite for his parents - but that led to the pricklier questions. If ghosts were real then they were also dangerous (he'd been told that, too, countless times) and he was acutely aware that he was on his own. "What do you want? Don't you have anyplace to go terrorize, or is this it?"

The spirit met his gaze again. (Terrorize? Why would I - ?)

"Because that's what ghosts do," said Danny, "Probably. Look, no offense, or maybe some offense, but I didn't come here for you to show up and bug me."

(Then why did you come here?)

"Hey, that's none of your business," Danny snapped, refusing to acknowledge exactly how ridiculous it was that he was in a graveyard at night having an argument with a real ghost, "Go away."

The apparition's eyes flashed. (Why don't you go away? This is my spot. I was here first)

"Fine. Whatever." Danny jammed his hands an extra inch into his pockets, shoving the encroaching chill away and turning to stomp across to the other side of the graveyard. Stupid ghost.

The ghost, on the other hand, seemed to change its mind. (Wait, I didn't mean it - please come back)

Despite himself - you wanna freeze out here? - Danny turned.

The shadowy spirit wafted up from its place by the headstone and floated closer. In the air, Danny could make out the suggestion of its limbs, and the white fog of its hands and feet, but even when it faced him he couldn't distinguish any features aside from its eyes. (Please stay)

Danny wanted to run. Everything his parents had told him about ghosts was marching through his mind - they're dangerous, kiddo! you don't wanna face off against one by yourself! - and it had finally dawned on him what might happen if he didn't get into town. Despite that, he found he couldn't run. The spirit sounded desperate. Probably because it'll tear you apart as soon as it gets your guard down, snapped the relentless voice of his mother, but he shoved it away. What if it really was desperate? What if it needed his help?

What if it wanted to rip him to shreds instead?

The spirit's eyes dimmed, as if perhaps it was thinking about something, and when it asked its voice was slow and careful. (You're not okay, are you?)

Danny frowned. "How do you know that?"

(You didn't run) said the ghost, (everyone runs)

"Yeah, maybe both my parents are ghosthunters," said Danny, as if that might ward it off if it decided at any point to attack him, "Maybe you'd better leave me alone."

(You think I'm going to haunt you)

"I'm supposed to think you're not? I don't know you - didn't know you - ugh, you know what I meant. You're dead. I'm not. Ghosts haunt people. That's kinda their thing. Why would you not come after me? Why are we even having this conversation? I told you to leave me alone."

The ghost went silent for a moment. It slunk downwards onto the snow, huddling a little tighter against itself as if wrapping its arms around its knees. (I guess I thought maybe since you didn't run you wouldn't be scared of me. I just wanted someone to talk to)

"Don't you have - oh I don't know - ghost buddies or something for that?"

(They moved)

"Moved?"

(On)

Danny bit his tongue. The loneliness struck him again, just as mercilessly as it had before, but this time it wasn't his own. All of a sudden he felt foolish - is he really the only one that's lonely? - and he let all his breath out in a prolonged puff. "You're the only one left here, aren't you?"

The spirit nodded; despite that it only barely held a coherent form, the motion was clear.

"You're lonely."

(Aren't you?)

Danny recoiled as if struck. Of course you are. Lonely, lost, and real stupid. You did this to yourself, remember? He turned, dashing a palm under his eye as if the ghost wouldn't have seen it. "Maybe."

(Maybe?)

"Yeah," Danny snapped, although there was little anger he could muster. "You heard me. Look at you, asking all these questions - who even are you, anyhow?"

(Just a phantom) said the phantom, glancing back at the headstone from which it had appeared, (name's long gone)

"Just a phantom," Danny echoed, making the spike in his chest twist. You still wanna just leave him there by himself? He couldn't do that. He knew he couldn't. Nevermind the cold - he wasn't going to abandon anybody that had no one left, even if it was someone who was already dead. "That's - that's really it, huh?"

(What about you?) the phantom asked, (you're still kicking. You've got a name, don't you?)

"It's Danny."

(Oh, I like that one) said the phantom brightly, sliding upwards a little, (you promise you'll stay?)

"Yeah. I mean - maybe. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but - I'm kind of in huge trouble. With everything. Ugh, I'm so stupid - "

(Tell me about it) the phantom ventured, (I mean, if you want to)

Danny sat with a soft crunch in the snow. Once it started to come out, he found, it suddenly became much easier. "I guess I did it to myself. Maybe I thought I wanted to be on my own, I mean I can't just keep listening to them argue like that, so I left, I thought it'd be easier, maybe it doesn't matter, but now I can't get back and it's so cold and it's my own fault I'm so stupid - "

(I don't think you're stupid)

"Look at me. I'm sitting here, in a graveyard, in the dark, talking to a ghost about my problems, which are my own fault to begin with," said Danny, one sob coming out instead as a sardonic laugh. "Sounds pretty stupid to me."

The phantom hesitated. After a moment it slid over to sit next to him, and its eyes brightened. (I don't think it counts unless you can't fix it)

"What are you talking about?"

(You're still breathing, aren't you?)

Danny felt like he'd struck a nerve somehow. "I didn't mean it like that - "

The phantom's eyes turned upwards. The snow had started up again; even in the past few minutes it had dusted Danny's hoodie with white, and if given another few minutes it might pick back up to the storm that had rendered Amity Park helpless. The phantom stared for a moment, and the snow paused. (Ice core) was the only explanation it offered, and its eyes turned upwards in what Danny could only assume to be a smile.

"You did that," said Danny, who was a second slower to process, "How'd you - ? I didn't know you could do that - "

The phantom nodded slowly. (Usually, it's only for a few seconds at a time. Closer it is to the solstice, though, sometimes I get a little leeway. Longer nights or something like that. I wasn't gonna question it)

"Huh."

The phantom rose abruptly, turning back and offering one wispy hand to Danny. (Can I show you something?)

Danny took the hand and flinched. The sensation was like ice, not physically tangible but piercingly cold, and he was pulled up to his feet as well. "Where are we going?"

The phantom kept Danny's hand. It floated higher, pulling him off the ground with it; he yelped, wide eyes darting back up to the shadow in the air, and his grip tightened. (Don't let go, okay?)

Danny wouldn't dare. "What are you doing - ?"

The phantom was smiling again, but wouldn't answer him. They both ascended over the ice-white treetops, and all of a sudden the town opened up below them through a yellow-white haze. (You said you were lost) said the phantom, (didn't you? Lost and lonely, same as me. I wanted to help)

Danny was silent. His mind had all but ground to a halt - the first time he'd ever seen a ghost, and the ghost had just plucked him up off the ground with no effort whatsoever. I wanted to help, it said. Weren't spirits like that supposed to do the opposite?

The phantom turned back to the town beyond the cemetery. (There's houses over on that side) it said helpfully, pointing with its free hand, (you think one of them's yours?)

"Well, I - " Danny forced his mind back into processing again, once he was very certain he wouldn't fall. He kept the phantom's hand tightly in his own, knowing that was the only thing keeping him up, and finally cast a glance across rooftops and streets below. "No," he said, "They're not. Look, I. . ."

(Oh jeez this is too much, isn't it? I'm sorry)

"No it's not that - I mean, don't get me wrong, this wasn't exactly what I was expecting to be doing tonight, it's kinda out-there, but - "

(I'm so sorry I swear I just wanted to help)

"Hey wait - no don't go down yet - you really can see pretty far from up here, can't you," Danny scanned the streets below, hoping to spot someplace that was still open. The cold was really starting to get to him, especially up in the open air - he couldn't quit shivering, and his fingers and nose had gone all but numb. Even his lips had begun to resist movement, and he had to be careful to articulate when he spoke. "I came in from that way," he spotted the road the bus had taken when he'd been dropped off, and gestured vaguely downwards. "Don't suppose you know how far Amity Park is from here?"

(You're cold)

"Well, yeah," said Danny, "But I gotta get home - "

The phantom's eyes widened, and it shook its head. (Not like that! Oh, man, you're still kicking, you have to stay warm, I forgot I'm so sorry) the phantom descended, taking Danny down too, and they both landed at the side of the cemetery.

Danny shoved both hands back into his pockets, although they wouldn't warm up entirely on their own. At least the wind's not so bad down here, and you know where the town is. You'll have better luck than you will out here, anyhow.

The phantom was unblinking. (That was my fault. I should have remembered. You have to be careful - when you're alive, I mean. Stuff can happen, I wasn't even thinking about it - )

"Hey, don't freak out. I'll be fine. So it's snowing a little. Big deal."

(Yeah but I don't wanna see you freeze out here, not on account of me, anyhow, you know - )

"Wait," said Danny, and asked before he could stop himself, "Wait is that - that's how you - well, you know - isn't it?"

The phantom didn't answer. Its eyes slid pointedly away form Danny's, opting instead to stare through the snow-laden trees. The distant rumble of a street-plow came and went, and the snowfall slowly started up again.

Now you've gone and done it. Should have kept your mouth shut, idiot. "I'm sorry." He let his breath out all at once. "I guess I shouldn't have asked you that. Please don’t be mad."

(You're really far from home, aren't you?)

Danny hesitated, but then nodded. "Yeah. I am. I really screwed up this time. Look, no offense, I get that you wanted to help me out and all, but - I don't think this is something you can just fix, you know?"

(You're having troubles at home) said the phantom, (I think. That was what you said earlier, wasn't it? That’s why you came all the way here)

Danny nodded again. "Yeah. My parents have this stupid fight every year, and I said I wasn't gonna let it get to me this time but it did anyway. So of course like some kind of moron I thought maybe getting away from it all would have been just fine - "

(Well, you're the first moron I've talked to in a long time) said the phantom helpfully, (you can't be that bad)

Danny sighed. "Thanks. I guess."

(Besides, you don't have to be out here all by yourself either. I think we both kind of win, right?)

Danny frowned. "Not sure that's how it works? If I didn't run away then none of this - "

(Then you'd still be having a bad time, right? But just at home. And if you hadn't come out here then I'd still be having a bad time too. Like I said. We both kind of win)

"Well. I mean," Danny gave up. "Sure. Yeah."

(And you'd be sad if I left now, wouldn't you?)

"Yeah."

(Then I'm not going anywhere) said the phantom, and its eyes turned up again. (Consider yourself haunted)

Despite himself, and despite everything that had happened, everything he'd done, and that he was a mess standing at the edge of a graveyard in the snow with a ghost as his only companion a town or more away from home - despite it all, Danny laughed. Something in him released all at once; perhaps the coil of stress wound one tick too tight and snapped, or perhaps it was the realization that he wasn't on his own, not really, not so long as the phantom hung around, even if it couldn't help him on a tangible level. Haunted. It was so succinctly absurd, and so, so good to let everything else fall away. Before he fully realized he'd meant to, he'd reached over and taken the phantom's hand again. "Thanks. I guess I really needed that."

The phantom just smiled back. (You're really stuck with me now. How're you gonna get home otherwise? By yourself?)

Danny was somber again in an instant. "I don't know. Buses back to Amity don't start up again 'til morning. Phone's dead. Can't even ask anyone to come and pick me up."

(Well) the phantom turned back to the town beyond the trees. (Hm. Oh, hey, I wonder if some the gas stations are twenty-four hours? I think there's at least one. Maybe they'd have a phone you could borrow?)

"You think so?"

(Yeah. Come on. You thought flying was cool? Check this out) and without waiting for an answer it flew ahead, pulling him through snow and frozen trees and shrubs as if they didn't really exist. For the moment, they may as well not have existed, and the next thing Danny knew they'd come out in the back parking lot of what appeared to be a Denny's.

Danny turned back to the phantom. "What'd you do?"

(Shared) said the phantom, (thought it'd be faster than going around. Don't you think?)

"Yeah, but - " Danny paused, and then tried again: "I don't know, just - warn me next time? Phasing through solid objects isn't really as straightforward, you know?"

The phantom gave Danny what he assumed to be a half-hearted shrug. (Okay, but I think the place is a few blocks over from here)

Danny trotted ahead, following the sidewalk around the corner of the building and having a look across the front lot and down the road. "All I'm seeing is streetlights. I’m guessing you know this town better than me." He shot a look back to the phantom, expecting it to take the lead.

The phantom hesitated, but only for a moment. (The living don't really - you know, you don't see the dead wandering around most times, do you?)

"Wait, what're you getting at? You think I'm just gonna ditch you from here on out?"

(I'm just saying don't act all surprised) said the phantom. It was as if it was taking a deep breath; he materialized fully, finally allowing himself a face, and appeared in a simple jacket and black jeans. His eyes still carried their ethereal glint, but apart from that he appeared human - he shook his head briefly, sending his white hair flying, and then gave Danny a grin. "I get leeway, remember?"

"You're a showoff," said Danny, who had not known the phantom could manifest so clearly - so that's what his face looks like - and was not about to let him get off easy about it.

"What, I gotta go around looking like an oil slick all the time? Give a guy some credit, will you? Besides, you know what'd happen if people saw a shadow like me on the loose? They might call your parents. That's what."

Danny's gaze fell. "Right."

"C'mon," the phantom took Danny's hand as he passed, and led the way into the streets. Danny noticed, after a moment, that he was the only one leaving footprints behind - he also appeared to be the only one exuding clouds with every breath. That's because he's not breathing, stupid, he chided himself, duh. Still, something just seemed right about the phantom, and it wasn't only because it was the only other option to being on his own again.

For the life of him, though, he couldn't place the feeling.

The two of them stood in the parking lot outside the gas station. Sure enough, the lights inside were still on, and the sidewalk looked to have been shoveled fairly recently. That was probably for the best; the snow had gotten going in earnest, and Danny speculated it had probably caught up to them from Amity Park where the worst of it had been earlier. He trotted ahead, pausing with one hand on the door to turn back to the phantom. "You coming?"

"Yeah," said the phantom, "Just in time, too. You don't look so good. Told you you'd freeze."

Danny ignored that last comment, and ignored the numbness from his feet and the tips of his fingers, and pulled the door open. The single clerk behind the register looked bored, but it wasn't until Danny asked to borrow the phone that either he or the phantom were acknowledged at all. He took it, giving the clerk one of those awkward-thanks smiles, and took a deep breath.

You know you're gonna have to fess up, and you know it's probably Mom who's gonna answer.

Let her, if it means I can go home.

It only rang once; sure enough, it was his mother.

"Mom," said Danny, daring himself to keep his composure. Despite his best efforts, his voice splintered and he was crying. "Mom - look, I'm okay, I just - "

"I promise I'm fine"

"I know"

"Can you and Dad come get me"

"Please"

"No, I'm with a friend"

"Yeah"

"Okay"

"Hi, Dad"

"Yeah"

"Yeah, I'm okay"

"No"

"Okay"

"Love you too."

- - - -

"Phantom?"

The two of them sat on the curb, watching the snow and waiting for the Fenton RV to pull up. Danny's mother had said forty-five minutes; his father had promised fifteen.

"Yeah?"

Danny hesitated, knowing he probably wasn't going to get an answer he liked. "Don't suppose you'd wanna come back with me, would you?"

The phantom snorted. "You kidding? Your parents are ghosthunters, man. You said so. No offense, or maybe some offense, but like. Yikes."

"Yeah," said Danny quietly, "Thought so."

The phantom was silent for a moment, but then shifted to lean back on his hands. "You were right, though. Earlier."

"What?"

"When you asked how I died."

Danny turned to him, opened his mouth to protest - you shouldn't have to tell me if you don't want to - but the phantom put up a hand to keep him silent.

"It went pretty much how you think it did. Lemme tell you, dying really sucks. I don't know if it's like that for everybody, maybe I just got unlucky, but - I just didn't want you to end up like me, you know?"

"Hey - are you okay?"

The phantom turned skyward, doing his best to blink away the tears that dared to creep up into the corners of his eyes, but after a fruitless minute he swiped at them with the back of his wrist anyhow. "Look at this, you got me feeling stuff, I can't believe it. I'm almost as much of a wreck as you now."

"Hey," Danny protested halfheartedly, but knew there was little he could say in his own defense. He really had done it to himself; everything that had happened the whole evening had been more or less directly his own fault. That said, he was glad that the phantom had stuck with him. He wondered what might have happened if he'd been alone all night - no, he had a fairly good idea of what might have happened, and he didn't really want to find out for sure. Dying really sucks.

The phantom had recomposed himself, and stood as an excuse to stretch out. "Hey, s'that them?"

Danny followed the phantom's gaze - sure enough, a double pair of headlights had turned onto the road, visible even through the haze of snow. He rose to his feet, turning back to the phantom and giving him a final smile. "Thanks," he said, "for sticking with me. I guess I owe you one."

The phantom had his arms around Danny in an instant. The motion was on impulse; it took them both a second to realize what had happened, and a second after that for the phantom to feel Danny's arms around him in return.

"Don't forget about me, I mean it."

"I won't."

The headlights swerved into the lot, and the phantom faded into thin air. Danny was alone only for a moment before both of his parents burst out and immediately began to fuss. He let them; he knew he'd catch heat, but not until they got home, and he had until then to sort everything out.

I wanna see you again, he'd meant to say, but had been cut short, and now it was probably too late. He wondered, if he came back into town sometime, if the phantom would still be there. You think he's got anything better to do? said something in him, but that part was at war with the part that insisted why would he sit and wait around? just for you? aren't you a bit selfish to think that?

Was he, really?

- - - -

The phantom watched Danny go. Ghosthunters had sit ill with him since the living boy had mentioned them, and he knew he didn’t want to get involved. Who could blame him, really? He'd seen the kid off, and made sure he was alright. Now he could get back to. . .

. . . what, exactly?

Not much. That was what it amounted to. The phantom had, for most of the evening so far, been able to fend off the crushing loneliness of death. He was lucky - very lucky, considering that Danny hadn't fled at the sight of him, and luckier still that they'd gotten along. He should have counted it as a decent night. All had ended well.

The empty pit in his stomach, however, begged to differ.

Even if it had just been for one fleeting instant, just then, before he'd vanished into thin air so the hunters wouldn't have seen him, he'd felt alive again. Maybe it was the solid warmth of a living body, or maybe it was the assurance that, in that moment, he wasn't on his own.

Now Danny was gone, fading with the taillights of the RV as it turned a corner and disappeared altogether.

That pained him.

It pained him - now you're back to the usual, and isn't it horrible? - and it was too much. He burst into silent tears, alone and unseen in the parking lot of the only gas station in town that was still open. He'd never see Danny again.

Why didn't you go too?

He wished, beyond anything, that he could have gone, but he knew the hunters would have caught him if he'd dared show his face. He'd seen them coming, and he'd vanished before they'd gotten so much of a glimpse of him. Look at you. You let him slip through your fingers, and you know exactly why.

There were plenty of reasons why. Ghosthunters was only the first; I've never been out of town; finding him again would be such a long shot; everything I have is here; besides, maybe he'll come and say hi sometime; I don't even know how far it'll be.

Some small voice in his core grew sharp. You’re making excuses. You're just afraid to go. What's keeping you here?

That made the phantom pause. His grave had never been the most appealing place to hang out, but it was the only thing with his name on it (in theory, anyhow - a gang of vandals had seen to that once a few years back). What did he have left, when push came to shove?

Why didn't you go? You're just a scared kid, that's why. You thought you had it together, didn't you? Now you've missed your chance, and you get to go back to being alone. You did it to yourself.

You're a lot like him.

He'd turned down the only living being that had spoken to him in over a decade. How stupid was he? He wanted, more than anything, to take it back.

Quit making excuses.

He swiped the last of his tears away, and cast a glance skyward. Amity Park, Danny had mentioned. That must have been where he lived. The phantom had never been there before. In life, he hadn't traveled much.

Old habits die hard, I guess.

He ascended over the ice-covered trees and drifted for a moment in the air. From the height, he could see the town below, and he could see the cemetery where his grave and his dusty old carcass lay. Who needs that old thing, anyway, he thought, eyes tracing the smooth road carved out in white between the trees. I came in from that way, Danny said. It wasn't much to go on.

Wonder if I could fly all the way from here? Never done it. Might make it. Might not.

You never know.

This time of year - might get a little extra leeway.

#holiday truce #kiinotasha #Danny Phantom #fanfic

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hellfirenacht · 5 years

Text

Can’t Be Unseen Ch 3

Sal Fisher x Reader

First Chapter

Last Chapter

Ao3

Art by: @ochibi-chan, thank you so much for the fanart!

'He has no nose.' was the first thing that came to your mind as you found yourself staring in shock at the face of your date clearly for the first time. For as many scary movies you’d seen with Sal and Larry, his face was nothing like the special effects makeup you had grown used to. Sal’s face was real, and it shocked you.

While you had caught glimpses of him before, it had only been his chin and mouth. You knew that there had been a chunk of his jaw that was misshapen, you saw the deep scar on his mouth as well as the slight discoloration where skin grafts had taken place.

You weren't prepared for the lack of nose, or the rigid scarred skin that covered most of his face. It scared you- not in a way that would have you running in fear, but in a way a friend would jump out from behind a wall. A moment of horror before realizing that there was no danger, realizing that it was still your friend.

The shock lasted all of a moment until the kid spoke up again quietly, holding Sal's prosthetic in his hand.

"Oh..." was all he said before Sal snatched his face back.

"Hope you're satisfied." Sal mumbled after he clicked it back into place. You looked away, but you already knew it was too late.

Sal had seen the look on your face when you had seen his, and it wasn't a good one. Guilt washed over you in seconds, replacing the shock. This isn't what you had wanted. Yes, you did want to see his face at some point, but not like this. Not when it wasn't on his terms in a way where you could make him feel safe and have it go as slow as you both needed. But it was too late, you had both seen everything.

You fucked up.

He started walking away quickly and you almost had to jog to catch up to him. It was quiet between the two of you but unlike previous times where the quiet had been comforting, this time it was tense and uncomfortable. You couldn't believe how badly you fucked up at such an important moment. You could only imagine how hurt he must be right now, when all you wanted to do was apologize.

His hand wasn't in yours anymore, and it felt empty. You opened your mouth a few times to say something, anything, to try and convey how sorry you were and that you never wanted to hurt him and that you were just shocked and to please just talk to-

"Every weekend, right?" he asked, still looking straight ahead.

"...What?"

"This happens every weekend until Mid-November. That's what you said, right?" You tried to get a read on his voice, but you couldn't. The challenge that you loved was now just a confusing mess.

"Y-yeah."

"Let's go again next weekend." Sal said, his voice softer and not so distant. Your heart leapt in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. Had you not fucked up so badly after all? Despite what had just happened, had today been enough for your feelings to reach him?

"I- y-yeah sure!" you said quickly, staring at him, though he continued to stare ahead, not glancing at you at all. That should have been your first clue.

"Yeah, I think Larry and Ashley would really have a lot of fun." Sal continued. "We didn't have a chance to check out many of the art exhibits and I think Larry would be a better ride partner than me."

Oh.

This was his way of letting you down gently. It's not like it had been your plan to confess tonight, but it looked like he wasn't even going to give you the chance. Knowing Sal, he was probably doing this to save you the embarrassment after everything that had happened.

Sal Fisher didn't feel the same way about you. You knew that this was always going to be a possibility, but you didn't think it'd hurt this bad.

Who knew that the Sally Face Killer's method was to stab you in the heart?

Still though, you had a reputation to uphold, if he was doing his best to let you down easily, the least you could do was take the rejection with grace. You'd save the crying for when you got home, in the privacy of your own bed.

"Yeah, with all that headbanging he does, a few rides on those spinning things should be a piece of cake." your voice cracked slightly at the end, and you tried to hide it with a cough.

Addison Apartments was coming up close on you both, and you felt relieved.

"Thanks for inviting me out today." Sal said as you headed in. "I'm gonna go check on Larry."

He was gonna go tell Larry about how badly you fucked up.

"Alright." you replied. "I'll, uh, see you at school then."

For a few moments you were alone on the first floor as Sal used the elevator to go down. He had thanked you, but it didn't feel genuine. He was usually the first to tell someone if he had fun but those last few moments had completely tarnished everything. It wouldn't even surprise you if he shoved the stuffed animal somewhere he would never have to look at it again.

The elevator finally dinged and you were thankful that no one was inside. It was when the doors finally closed that tears started to form in your eyes. Your parents would be out late tonight- Saturday was their date night. You could go to your room and cry all you wanted without having to worry about them asking intruding questions.

Walking into the kitchen, you kicked off your shoes and headed to your room quickly, shutting the door behind you. How had today gone so wrong? How could you have reacted so poorly to seeing your friend and crushes' face?

And now that you had seen his face, what did that mean? Of course, it was too late to do anything about your feelings at this point, Sal had seen the look on your face when you stared at him. There was no coming back from that. Actions aside though, what did seeing his face really mean to you in terms of how you felt about him?

You laid down and closed your eyes, tears still running down your face. Taking deep shaky breaths to try and calm your nerves, you brought the image of his face to mind, at least what you could remember what you had seen today.

It was best to think of one piece of his face at a time, starting from the bottom up. You had seen his chin before, that wasn't anything that bothered you by now. His lips were thinner than you had thought to begin with, though that was probably because the few times you had glimpsed them, it had been shadowed by the prosthetic. The upper lip was slightly misshapen, as if a part of it had been torn and sewn back together. His lips still looked soft though,

The nose. Okay, that was something that would take some getting used to. You think there was a slight bump where a nose would normally be, as though the doctors had attempted to keep some of the cartilage in place. The more you thought about it, the more okay it became.

Skin, you didn't have a problem with. It was patchy and uneven in texture and color but it was okay. There were scars all over his face, from deep looking gashes to sharp thin lines. The skin was pale or red mostly, unsurprising as you were sure that the prosthetic didn't allow much sunlight- not that he would ever take it off outside anyway. His skin also seemed thin and delicate. You briefly wondered what it would feel like to touch his cheeks and feel the different textures of his face. Would he even allow someone to get that close?

His eyes were the least surprising to you. His eyes had darker circles than you had noticed before, but they were still the same eyes. Or eye? For the sake of argument, you went with eyes. Underneath the prosthetic you sometimes had trouble seeing his eyes, but sometimes when the light hit him just right you were struck by how blue they were. You had grown to love that shade of blue.

Blue hadn't meant much to you until you met Sal Fisher.

The overall expression was... blank. Almost as neutral as his prosthetic. You wondered if it was because he didn't want to show any emotion while so vulnerable or because for so long he never needed his face to communicate.

As you pieced together his face in your mind, a pain shot through your heart as you realized something important.

No matter what his face looked like, you still desperately liked him.

The next hour was dedicated to clinging to your pillow and crying ugly tears. The next was dedicated to looking over your phone and trying to decide if you should talk to Larry or Ashley about what happened.

You couldn't tell them the whole truth, you decided. They had both seen Sals' face before and had been so kind about it. The way Sal talked about it, they didn't even blink at the sight of him.

You felt awful.

Your phone dinged.

AshleyFace: So how'd it go?

Here goes nothing. You were glad you were home alone in your room and not around anyone else.

BlankFace: Sal was a complete gentleman and let me down gently. I'm glad I had a chance to go out with him though, I don't have any regrets.

You had so many regrets.

AshleyFace: He turned you down? I'm so sorry. I thought you two would have been a cute couple.

BlankFace: It's okay, at least now you and I can finally be together ;)

AshleyFace: Ha ha. I don't think my girlfriend would like that too much.

BlankFace: I meant me and Todd.

AshleyFace: He's still super gay and I think he's got a date with someone coming up.

BlankFace: ....Chug?

AshleyFace: You know he's got a huge thing for Maple LOL

BlankFace: Is everyone hooking up except me??

AshleyFace: Larry?

BlankFace: I don't think I have the heart to come between him and his right hand. I'm a flirt, not a homewrecker.

AshleyFace: LMAO

You smiled as you hunched over your phone. You couldn't bring yourself to tell her exactly what happened, but at least you were able to talk to her a little bit. Acting like you were okay made everything else a little bit more okay.

What you both saw couldn't be unseen, but you could at least try and move forward. You just hoped that you hadn't lost him as a friend.

...

School on Mondays always suck, but school on Mondays after a terrible first date with a close friend sucked way harder than anything else. You shoved your bookbag into your locker and headed towards the cafeteria where most people gathered before class started. Normally you would have walked together with Sal and Larry but you had dragged your feet all morning, and told the group chat to go on ahead before you. Sal always liked being more early, and though Larry wasn't exactly a morning person he'd always show up to school with his best friend.

You looked over at the table where you all met and froze for a moment. You hadn't spoken a word to Sal since Saturday and a knot formed in the pit of your stomach. It was a nauseating feeling to think about going over there and acting like nothing had happened at all this weekend.

It was easier to just head towards Homeroom, a quiet period where you didn't have any of your friends to talk to. You decided that it would be better to lay low for a while.

Laying low wasn't super hard. You had art with Ashley and Larry (though Larry was seated at the opposite end of the room, making it slightly easier to avoid any questions), and Ashley wasn't one to pry unless she was convinced that something was wrong. You had never really told anyone the extent of your crush on the boy with pigtails, so making her think you were really okay was surprisingly easy.

Though Larry was usually one to drop subjects if asked, you found it harder to avoid any questions from him. He pulled you to the side between classes and tried to ask what happened.

"He's not interested." you replied, trying to shrug it off. "It's no one's fault."

"It... might be mine." Larry suddenly said. "I think I might have said something to make him think that it wasn't a real date."

Oh the irony. You almost wished he was right and that was the reason things were now awkward between you and Sal. You shook your head and place a hand on his shoulder.

"If that's the case, then it's double clear that he wasn't interested." you said with a small smile.

"Looks like my crush was dead on arrival, huh?"

"I'm really sorry about it." Larry frowned.

"Dude, it's fine." just had to shake him off the trail of your shattered heart now. "Now that's Sal's off the list you better watch yourself- you're third in line."

"Third? Wait, who's second?"

You just smiled and winked at him as you ducked into your next class.

It seemed like Sal hadn't told Ashley and Larry about what happened at the end of the date. It was a relief, really. You still weren't ready to face them about how you had treated the guy you had a crush on.

Science class was torture. It was the one class that you had with Sal, though you didn't sit near him. He was seated near the front and you sat a few seats behind him. On one hand, it meant that he wouldn't be looking at you but on the other, it meant that you got to spend the rest of the hour staring at the back of his head. It wasn't something that normally distracted you, but today it made focusing nearly impossible.

When the bell rang for lunch, you took your time packing up as you tried to figure out if Sal was going to approach you or not. He briefly glanced over at you, making you feel like a deer in the headlights for a moment. But he continued out the door without saying a word.

Suddenly you didn't have much of an appetite.

Still though, you grabbed your bagged lunch from your locker and walked towards the cafeteria, hesitating a moment before walking in and then walking right back out. You suddenly decided that your homework wasn't gonna do itself, so you got a permission slip from one of the teacher on lunch duty and made your way to the school library. You weren't allowed to eat in there, but you weren't hungry anyway.

The library is where you spent lunch for the rest of the week. It was the one period you had where you felt okay, without the crippling guilt. You could hide in a back corner with your nose in a book, or study, or draw, and the world would leave you alone.

"Are you avoiding Sally Face?" a voice said from behind you, causing you to jump. You had been so deep into a book that you hadn't heard anyone coming towards you.

"Ah, what?" you turned to see Larry. "I uh... what?"

"We haven't seen you all week." he continued. "Sally Face is starting to think you're avoiding him."

"I'm not!" you said, defensively. "I've just got a lot of school work that I need to catch up on."

He just shook his head. "You haven't been walking home with us either."

You didn't have a rebuttal for that one. "I... I just..." you sighed. "Things got weird between us after last weekend."

"Listen, I kinda get it. You liked Sal more than you let on, yeah? And it's weird now that you know he's not interested but, dude, you can't just keep ignoring all of your friends. You do still want to be friends with him, right?"

You nodded.

"Then stop being a coward, and walk home with us again. If you wanna keep hiding in the library at lunch that's fine but... we all miss you."

There was a slight pang in your chest at the words.

"Even Sal...?" you asked quietly, unsure.

"Of course he does. He's the reason I'm talking to you right now. He wanted to talk to you himself but he didn't wanna make your uncomfortable and shit."

"Really...?" you couldn't help but be surprised. "I thought I blew it..."

"Just 'cause he didn't feel the same way doesn't mean he doesn't still like having you around."

"I'm an idiot I guess."

"Well yeah, duh." he laughed. "Now you're gonna come home with us today, no buts."

"But I like butts." you shot back with a smirk.

"There it is." he laughed again. "See you after school."

"Hey, Larry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

...

It became an unspoken agreement that you and Sal didn't talk about the date, and what had happened. It was okay though, you didn't want to face him in a manner of speaking. You three started walking to school again, though it was a few weeks before you really felt okay being so close to him.

Larry was the real champ about it though, he never let the conversations become awkward between the three of you. He always had some topic to talk about, or some song he wanted to share on your morning commutes. You didn't know what you did to have such a great friend but you were thankful.

Sal started to slowly talk to you again as well. Despite what Larry had said it was hard to read Sal, or maybe you just weren't ready to read him yet. Talking was slow at first, his questions about science homework, asking him to grab an extra fork at lunch because you forgot to grab one, small talk. But as the fall semester crawled by, you found your friendship starting to stand on solid ground again.

Flirting with him never felt the same though. It didn't feel right to flirt with someone who had turned you down. At the same time it felt as though he was also keeping his distance from you. You really couldn't blame him. If someone looked at you in shock and horror upon seeing your face for the first time, you wouldn't exactly want to be close to them either.

Sometimes when you two were left alone for more than a few minutes, you considered bringing it up. You'd get so close to opening your mouth to talk to him but the words would die in your throat. On the one occasion where the words started to make their way out of your mouth, Todd had shown up to introduce you to his new boyfriend, Neil.

Timing was really not your thing, huh?

November came and went and your whole group buckled down to study for finals. There were many long nights where you were all crowded into Larry's basement, papers and books strewn everywhere as you all attempted last minute cramming and tutoring on each other. There was more than one night where Lisa would come home to see a handful of kids passed out in her living room, surrounded by notes, or still awake and color coding flashcards.

On one such night, you noticed that Sal was chugging an energy drink that Larry had given him through a crazy straw. One of the two that Sal had bought for you on that night.

You couldn't tell if it hurt or helped that he still had it.

Finals ended with a fizzle rather than a bang. You were very unsure about science, but you were confident enough that you at least passed the rest of the tests. By the time the bell rang to let you all out on the last day, everyone had collectively agreed that they were done talking about tests.

Making your way back to Addison apartments was proving to be more difficult than expected for the three of you. It had snowed the day before and rained a little at night, making the sidewalk a long tail of ice and slush. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, as you all had snow boots, but you had all collectively used the last three brain cells to finish up with school for the semester. This, combined with the lack of sleep from cramming, had left you all feeling slightly delirious and deciding that the three of you slipping and stumbling around was the funniest thing to ever happened.

"Nope! Nope! Nope! Bad step!" you laughed, stumbling forward after stepping on a hidden patch of ice. You managed to not fall flat on your face this time but you were sure it was going to happen eventually.

"Larry you should take one for the team and go first." Sal said. "We'll follow behind in your footsteps."

"No way, Sally Face." Larry replied. "If I go first and fall backwards that's a whole domino effect where I end up on top of you both."

"My one fantasy." You said with a dramatic sigh as Larry turned and winked at you.

Dragging Sal into your flirts was okay if you roped someone else into it as well.

"I'll go first!" You volunteered, stretching your legs out to take a big step forward.

"You've fallen more times than anyone!" Sal said with a shake of his head.

"Details, details." you said with a hand wave. "Besides, we're almost there! I can see the apart- OOF!"

Your foot landed on another patch of ice, causing you to fall backwards. Larry, having been right next to you by the point, grabbed onto your arm tightly to try and steady you, but the force of your fall was too much. Something softer that the ground was suddenly pressed against your back, as Larry was pressed against your chest.

"Ow."

"Oof."

"Fuck."

Your fall had both pulled Larry down and knocked Sal over as well. Sal had landed on his butt after unintentionally catching you on the way down, and Larry had ended up on to of you, having landed on his knees pretty hard. The three of you were a little confused for a second, before you decided to break the tension.

"My other one fantasy."

Larry let out a laugh that was more like a snort as he made his way back onto his feet. Behind you, you could hear Sal let out a small laugh as well. It took some doing, but eventually you all managed to stand back up, brushing off the snow and dirt from your clothes.

"Anyone hurt?" you asked.

"Scraped knee and hands." Larry said.

"Scrapped elbow." you replied.

"Scrapped butt." Sal added.

"Want me to kiss it better?" you and Larry both said at the same time before all three of you started laughing again.

Through the power of teamwork, the three of you managed to make it to the apartment complex with much fewer casualties. Larry left you two alone quickly, stating he wanted to get his hands cleaned up so his mom wouldn't worry. It seemed weird that he was in a rush to get going, but then Sal spoke up.

"Hey uh, do you want to take a walk?"

You looked at him slightly surprised at the invitation. When was the last time you had been alone for more than a few minutes to talk?

No, you already knew the answer.

"Sure." you agreed, and he lead you around the building, starting a trek of doing laps.

It was quiet for a while, with nothing but the sound of your shoes crunching against the fresh snow. A cold breeze made you hug yourself and adjust the scarf around your neck so that it covered your mouth. Dumb you had forgotten to bring lip balm, and you really didn't want to get chapped lips. The sound of your name from right next to you bought you back down to Earth.

"Are we... okay?" Sal asked, still looking ahead as he spoke.

You weren't sure how to answer that, or even if there was a good answer to be given.

"I... huh?"

"That night at the festival," Sal continued. "You saw what was under my prosthetic."

Oh. Oh no. You weren't ready for this conversation. You weren't ready to talk to him about this. Panic bubbled in the pit of your stomach. There was no going back now.

"Yeah... I did." you said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't rip my face off."

You shook your head. "No but... I..." you took a deep breath, willing the small lump in your throat to go away. "I shouldn't have reacted like I did."

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" His voice was soft, comforting, non-judgmental. It made you want to cry even more.

"No... well, not fully." you started, and after a moment of silence you continued. "I saw your face and reacted badly and I hated myself for reacting badly because Ashley and Larry both saw without freaking out or saying anything and I couldn't be like that for you so I just thought it’d be better to stay away."

You finally took a breath after spewing up the word vomit. You didn't mention him not returning your feelings as you hoped that went without saying.

"I'm used to people looking at me like that." He was trying to make you feel better, but the words just cut into your heart. Your eyes felt hot as they started to water, but you were trying hard not to let any tears escape.

"You shouldn't though!" you snapped back. "You... you're a great guy and I like you a lot and you shouldn't have to deal with stupid people like me not knowing how to react to your face!"

He stopped walking and looked at you. Tears were escaping your eyes now, and you were shaking hard. He reached up and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Do you still want to be friends?" he asked softly.

You nodded and he pulled you into a tight, warm hug. Your nose was smooshed up against his ear muffs, and you were sure that some of your tears were landing in his hair but you felt okay for the first time in months.

It was scary how empathetic and kind Sal could be. Always willing to give people as many chances as they needed to grow. You hoped that one day you could show someone even a fraction of the kindness that he had shown you.

"I missed you." He said, not letting go of you.

"I missed you, too." you whispered back.

You two stayed like that for a while. Even though it was freezing outside, his hug was so warm. It was you who ended up pulling back first, not wanting to accidentally get some snot into his hair.

"Now that things are better I wanted to ask you something." Sal said, starting to walk again, you fell into step with him.

"What's up?"

"Dad's wanting to have a small holiday party next week." Sal explained. "Nothing fancy but he wants you and Ashley and Larry to come by and roast marshmallows and watch Rudolf."

You couldn't help but smile. "That sounds like a lot of fun, actually. I'd love to drop by."

The two of you were in front of the building again, and he lead the two of you inside.

"Cool, the party starts at six next Friday." He pushed the button for the elevator.

"Six on Friday. Gotcha." you pulled out your cell and made a note of it."

The two of you said your goodbyes as he made his way to the basement to invite Larry and you made your way back up to your room.

Things were finally starting to feel normal again.

...

LarryFace: so did you 2 kiss and make up yet?

BlankFace: Too soon. But we did make up.

LarryFace: u goin to the party then?

BlankFace: Yup! You?

LarryFace: ya me and mom are gonna be there

BlankFace: Cool! See you there then!

Next Chapter

#sal fisher x reader #sal x reader #sally face x reader #sally face #nacht post #nacht fic #cbu

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new53 · 5 years

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password?

When he woke up, Dick immediately knew something was wrong. He was laying on his stomach, his head turned to the side and so he had a great view of the grey pillow next to his face, except his own bedsheets weren’t grey. He twisted and sat up.

The comforter bunched together near his knees was silver-and-blue striped and the walls were an eggshell white. The curtains were pulled aside and letting some light seep into the otherwise dark room, so he knew it was morning. The room was mostly neat, with a pair of pants thrown on the ground near the laundry basket and a towel on the floor near the bed.

There was a picture on the bedside table, and Dick grabbed one, bringing it close to his face so he could see through the dim light.

The picture was of a man with a little girl on his shoulder The man had Dick’s own face, but his hair was long, pulled back in a loose bun, and Dick’s own hair hadn’t been that long for years. The little girl had dark skin and darker hair, and the photo had caught her mid-laugh.

Dick had never seen her before in his life.

He put the picture down and picked up the phone laying next to it. The background picture on the phone was the same girl, and the phone unlocked with Dick’s fingerprint.

He frowned.

He scrolled through the recent calls, glad to see names he recognized--Babs, Wally, Gordon. No Bruce, though, or any of his siblings.

The most recent text was from Kori. Dick opened the message thread and read it.

ok have fun--see u at thanksgiving

He scrolled up a little and found the beginning of the conversation.

Kori: i have service for a little while!

Dick (?): okay great!

Dick (?): hows everything?

Kori: the negotiations are going pretty well...there’s always more to do but everything’s winding down

Dick (?): when will you be able to come home? Mar’i misses you!

Dick (?): okay, i miss you too

Dick (?): also Simon keeps knocking down our door….bring Jess back!!!

Kori: lol

Kori: i miss you too

Kori: have you been giving mar’i a kiss from me every day?

Dick (?): ofc!!! I’m a GOOD father

Kori: i know you are.

Kori: jess says if we leave in the next few weeks, we’ll be back on earth in november

Dick (?): omg they’ll all flip out if you make it back for thanksgiving

Kori: don’t tell them!! I want it to be a surprise

Dick (?): i promise i won’t!

Dick (?): i might have to tell simon though

Dick (?): for my own peace of mind

Kori: don’t unless you absolutely have to

Dick (?): I won’t. Hey, i gtg--babs is calling & it’s mar’i’s bedtime. Ttyl

Kori: ok, have fun--see u at thanksgiving

Dick closed out of the thread. The next text was from Wally, and below that was Babs and then Gordon, and then Simon. Dick clicked on Simon’s contact.

Why would he be texting Simon Baz?

Dick was fairly sure it wasn’t amnesia, especially because the date lined up with what he remembered it being. He got up from the bed and pulled on jeans and a black t-shirt, both of which fit him perfectly.

He inspected his closet, and found a fake wall inside. It only took a moment to figure out how to open the wall, and inside he found a sleek grey suit with bright green detailing. It was similar to his Nightwing outfit and yet clearly wasn’t a version of Nightwing. Dick touched the mask mounted on the wall behind it and spotted his escrima sticks on the floor next to the boots.

He withdrew from the closet and left the bedroom.

He was in an apartment with two other rooms, with the doors closed. The bathroom door was open, and the living room was simply furnished and the kitchen yielded nothing. Dick retreated back to the rooms and opened the room that must be the master bedroom, as quiet as he could.

There was a double bed and a compter set, in this room. The computer set was large and familiar, in an Oracle-y way, and there was a wheelchair parked next to the bed, and someone sleeping, the covers drawn over them. Dick took a few steps forward, just to double check, and he saw red hair poking out of the top of the covers, glasses on the bedside table.

Babs, then, he assumed, seeing girl clothes in the open closet. He left the room--closing the door behind him--and crossed the hall, pushing open the last door.

The room was darker than the others, since the curtains were thicker. Dick lifted the phone still in his hand and shined the light into the room.

There was a dresser, and a toybox on the side of the room, with toys scattered on the floor, and a bed along the side of the wall. The light from the phone revealed a tiny shape on the bed, the blankets near the ankles.

Dick crept closer, careful not to step on the toys. It was the little girl from the pictures, the little girl who, when he squinted, looked a little like him and a little like Kori.

I’m a good father, the other him had said, in reference to her.

In this universe--for it must be an alternate universe--he was a father, and this little girl was his daughter.

Dick swallowed and left her room, guilt for stealing that little girl’s father away swirling in his chest.

He went to the window in the living room and peered outside; he was definitely in Gotham and Dick remembered apartment shopping in this building in the past. He was glad to know where he was, and he glanced at the time.

Finding his way back to his own universe seemed prudent, and since it was a Sunday and Dick was sure he didn’t have work, he left, taking the keys next to the door with him.

When he was outside, he texted Babs, in case she woke up.

Went on a little walk...didn’t wanna bother you. Be back later.

He hoped this universe’s Babs was like his own and liked to sleep as late as she could so that he’d have more time to figure out a solution, or at least find out how he got into this universe in the first place.

He knew where to look for answers, too, which was convenient.

He drove there, bracing himself for any possibility. Anything in this universe could be different. Already, this universe’s Dick was a father and a different superhero than Nightwing. Who knew what else would be off?

Dick parked on the road beside the long gate up to Wayne Manor. He was glad to see it was intact and not burned down or anything.

He pulled out his phone as he walked and googled Martha Wayne. She was still dead and had been dead for a while, and then Dick did a quick google of Batman to make sure he was around.

He was, though Dick couldn’t find any pictures. He repocketed the phone and walked along the outside perimeter of the gate. In his universe, there was a cave-entrance in an old well behind the gardens. Dick scaled the fence when he neared the spot, and easily found the old well. In his universe, it was hidden by a low hedge, but in this universe, it was behind a dog-shaped topiary. Dick grinned at the sight and swung his legs over the side of the well, lowering the rope all the way down. He could see the bottom from where he was, so he felt confident in sliding down the rope. He landed on the boards that were holding up the bottom. In his universe, the bottom would be kicked out and then you free-fell until you either grappled away or caught the rope hanging on the ceiling. In this universe, there was a discoloration on the rounded wall and Dick kicked at that instead. It was a small door, about half Dick’s height but wide enough that Clark could get through and it opened inward. He sat down, putting his feet through the door and shuffling forward using his hands to walk. He closed the little door behind him and the tunnel fell into darkness. Dick reached for his phone and shined the flashlight ahead. The path seemed to slope downward, stretching farther than he could see.

There wasn’t anything to do but go forward, so he did, tucking his chin under his phone. He got a few feet ahead and then his phone buzzed wildly, and Dick startled, falling on his butt and dropping the phone into the ground beside him. Dick scooped up the phone and grabbed it, turning the screen to face him.

Wally was calling him. Dick debated not answering, but he figured if he knew Wally it must’ve been through heroing, and maybe Wally could help him out, if the Batman thing fell through. Dick answered, deciding to play it neutral until he figured out what Wally knew.

“Hey,” Dick said.

“Hey!” Wally said, chirping cheerfully. “Whatcha doin?”

“Just taking a walk,” Dick said, looking around the damp cave.

“Sounds nice,” Wally said. “Hey, listen, I’m really sorry but I’m gonna have to cancel dinner tonight. Apparently it’s an important anniversary for Iris and we’re having a family thing or whatever. I can’t get out of it and I suggested that you come along since you’re basically family at this point but for whatever reason Barry thought you’d bring the whole of the GL Corps with you and you know how he gets.”

“Yeah,” Dick said. “Sounds fun, man. Don’t worry about dinner. You can make it up to me some other time.”

“Thanks, babe,” Wally said, sounding relieved. Babe? “Have fun on your walk, I gotta go. Love you!”

“Love you too,” Dick said automatically and Wally hung up. Dick looked at the lockscreen. Hm.

Dick put the phone back under his chin and got back on his hands, inching forward. The ground was curved into a steep decline and after about ten minutes, the path ended and Dick tried to put his foot down and it fell into the air, the ground gone. Dick caught himself and the phone, scooting back. He sat down, shining the light at the hole in front of him. There was nowhere to go but down, and there was nothing he could find to see how deep the drop was nor was there anything to slow down his fall.

Well. Dick always thought it was better to just jump right into things.

He pocketed the phone and dropped from the side, free-falling and calculating. The above-cave entrance was lower than the one in his universe, and assuming the ground was around the same distance--Dick tucked into a flip, rolling onto the floor and bracing his back against the landing.

He sat up and heard running water. He stood, rubbing his back. He got back out the phone and shined it all around, the light cutting through the darkness. He was in a pit about ten feet deeper than the regular cave floor, with sand on the floor and an underground river thirty feet to his right. Dick went to the pit walls and scaled one easily. The cave’s lights were motion-detected, and once he was on the main floor they turned on, and he turned off the phone’s light and pocketed it.

This Batcave looked mostly the same as his own, although as Dick walked to the computer he noted a few changes. The chair behind the computer, for one, was different, and the training mats on the side were much bigger than the ones at home. Dick spotted the tell-tale signs of heat-vision damage along the walls and there were colored towels stacked in a cabinet next to the training mats. The dinosaur was painted all over in purple graffiti, and the giant playing card had a hole burned through the face of the Joker. Jason’s display case looked different. Dick went over to it, curious about this change above the others. The costume inside looked like a mini version of the Batman suit, although it was sleek and mostly black, with white highlights. There was a domino mask instead of a cowl, and the plaque at the bottom read: BELOVED SON AND BROTHER.

Dick thought that that seemed much better than “a good soldier”. He touched the case and wondered what happened to this universe’s Jason, assuming that even was Jason.

The smattering of vehicles near the cave’s entrance were obviously different but Dick didn’t go inspect them, choosing instead to go to the display cases along the wall by the changing area. The first one was obviously Batman, even though all the yellow was replaced by dark grey. Made for a darker Batman, Dick thought. The second costume was nearly identical to Clark’s, except it was slimmer and fitted for a woman. He wondered what Kryptonian woman would have her super suit in the Batcave. Kara, maybe?

The next costume was a deep purple and black one that Dick recognized. Sure, Spoiler looked a little different, but Dick knew her when he saw her. He was glad to see her. The next display case was empty. The one next to that one was a sleek black costume with a hooded jacket overtop, and a red mask that pulled over the face and had stitching like Cass’s Batgirl mask across it. The main costume had a deep red outline of a bat, and it was fit for a slimmer person, probably a girl. Dick squinted at it. It looked like Red Hood, to be honest, but it also looked like Cass. It made him vaguely uncomfortable so he moved on to the next one. It was a Supergirl outfit. Dick raised his eyebrow and looked back at the other Kryptonian suit. Both had the crest of the House of El on the front, but the second one had a skirt and was very clearly Supergirl. Dick was sure he’d seen his own Kara wear a suit just like that one before.

The next one down was again Kryptonian. The body of it was like Clark’s, except there was no cape, just a leather jacket. Instead of red boots, there were combat boots that matched the jacket. Dick smiled. It reminded him of Kon’s old suit, and he wondered again why there were Kryptonian suits in the cave. He moved on to the next suit, which was like the one he’d seen in Jason’s display case, although it had a cowl that covered up the entire face--like Cass’s Batgirl suit. There were only two costumes left, and Dick nearly felt tears well up when he saw them.

They were, very clearly, Nightwing and Flamebird, and they were both very clearly around Damian-sized. Dick was sad to think that none of these suits matched the one in the other him’s closet--clearly Dick didn’t belong here. But Nightwing still did, and somehow that made Dick feel a lot better. He reached out for Nightwing’s suit. It had a cape and full face mask, which was a little ridiculous, but it was still clearly Nightwing. Dick smiled at it.

He found a pair of latex gloves with the medical stuff and went to the computer, powering it up. It asked for a password and Dick paused. He know his own Bruce’s password, of course, which was PENNYWORTH, with each letter changed to whichever one reverse alphabetized it--KVMMBDLIFS--then each letter changed to the corresponding number--11-22-13-13-2-4-12-9-6-19, and then seven added to each number. 18-29-20-20-9-11-19-16-13-26. The number added to make the final password changed every time Bruce adopted another kid, and over the holidays it was the same thing but MARTHA instead, and sometimes to jazz things up it was MARY or CATHERINE or JANET or CRYSTAL or SHIVA or TALIA or ELAINE instead of that. Dick had all of those memorized and could run a new one in a matter of minutes, but he didn’t know what this Bruce’s password would be. He tried the MARTHA and the PENNYWORTH variation, then the TALIA one. None worked and Dick knew that he wouldn’t be able to get into the computer until he either figured out more about this Bruce or asked someone. He tried WAYNE and THOMAS, which also didn’t work. Dick huffed and considered fingerprinting, then dismissed it because this was Bruce he was working with.

He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. He remembered the Kryptonian suits and leaned forward, trying KRYPTON, KAL-El, JOR-EL, KARA, ZOR-EL, KRYPTO, and everything else he could think of. He tried CRYSTAL because he remembered seeing Spoiler, then he tried JASON because that had been the password while Jason had died. Nothing worked and Dick had overrode the lock-out system but he thought an alarm would sound if he did it wrong anymore. Stupid paranoid Bruce.

Somewhere above him, Dick heard the telltale sign of the clock opening. He jumped to his feet and grabbed a grapple from where it was laying next to the keyboard, grappling up to a ledge near the top of the wall. He laid on his stomach and hoped the area would be shadowy enough that nobody would see.

Two people slid down the clock pole, one after the other. Dick recognized them with a jolt.

“He’s not even down here,” Damian complained, jumping off the pole and crossing his arms.

“He’s probably at work even though it’s Sunday, the asshole,” Duke said.

“He’s the worst,” Damian said, and Duke nodded.

“We’ll have to surprise him at work,” Duke said. “Call up Lois.”

“You call up Lois!” Damian returned. “She probably already knows where he is, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Duke said. “He’s probably moping somewhere.”

“He’s always moping somewhere when Lois is gone,” Damian scoffed. “They make me sick.”

“They’re married, weirdo,” Duke said. “Jeez. Come on, let’s go back up.”

Duke turned and Damian leapt onto his back, hanging on like a monkey. Duke screeched and tried to hold him up, but Damian climbed up higher and swung his legs around his shoulders, holding on to Duke’s head. Damian was laughing like a maniac and Duke spinned around, Damian’s laughter turning to joyful shrieks and Dick heard Duke’s own laughter underneath.

He smiled at the pair of them, wished he could leap down and swing Damian over his shoulder or give Duke a noogie or something.

Instead, three people came pattering down the stairs. Dick recognized Steph and Kara immediately, but the third person...he seemed familiar but a little off, somehow.

Damian brought the spinning to a stop and pointed at the trio.

“Duke! Invaders!”

“What kind of invaders?” Duke asked.

“Sisters!” Damian cried, and Duke charged at them. All three sidestepped.

“I take offense at the ‘sisters’ comment,” the other guy said.

“Sorry,” Damian said, and he sounded genuine. “Sisters and Kon.”

Kon? That person didn’t look like Kon, but Dick supposed that if the cloning process had been different, somehow….

“Thank you,” Kon said.

“Sure,” Damian said, and he made to climb down Duke’s back. Kara was there in an instant, basically picking him up and setting him down. She pat his head and he hissed at her, then he pointed at Steph.

“How dare you come down here without the love of my life?” Damian said accusingly. “Where is she?”

“Olive got to her first,” Steph said, her voice sing-songy, and Damian cried out in outrage and charged up the stairs. Kara high-fived Steph.

“Anyone get in contact with Cass?” Duke asked.

“Last I heard, she was in Korea,” Steph said. “Something about Slade or Shiva or someone.”

“Awesome,” Duke said, his tone saying the opposite.

“Don’t worry,” Kara said. “Today will still be special.”

“I know,” Duke said. “But it’d be cool if she could be there.”

“Yeah, well,” Kon said. “You know.” They all nodded and Dick was reminded of how his family talked about Jason in his universe. Was Cass their Jason? Was Cass Red Hood? It would explain the costume Dick’d seen, and actually--if Steph was Spoiler, Kara was Supergirl, Kon was Superboy, Duke was that other one, Damian was Nightwing or Flamebird, and the other person--Olive?--was the other one, that fit. And the last one--Lois and Bruce were married. If Lois was Kryptonian--Dick squinted back down at Kon, and yes, he looked like Lois’s twin brother but fifteen years younger. Explained why he looked different than Dick’s universe’s Kon. Dick wondered where Tim was, wondered if the display case he’d assumed to be Jason’s was actually Cass’s. No, no, it had said “son”, hadn’t it?

Regardless, the idea of Cass as Red Hood twisted inside Dick. His Cass would rather die than kill, and barely even got along with his Jason. What could’ve happened to her that would make her into Red Hood?

From upstairs, Dick heard Damian yell, “Baba’s anniversary surprise isn’t going to surprise itself!” and the older siblings looked at each other and went up above, ribbing each other and laughing, the tone shifting considerably.

Dick wondered if there was something he could do to get Cass to show up to this thing, because he knew how much Bruce appreciated it when Jason went to family functions, but it wasn’t Dick’s place to interfere and moreover, Cass was in Asia.

When he was sure he was alone, Dick flipped back down from his ledge and went back to the computer. Knowing what he knew now, he tried ELAINE, LARA, ELIZA, ALLURA, and ELLA. Then he typed in SIBYL, remembering that they’d mentioned an Olive and the only Olive in Dick’s universe that was around Damian-sized was the daughter of Calamity. None of the passwords worked. Dick contemplated going upstairs and trying to look around a little, but they were all up there and who knew how different the manor was in this universe. He tried SHIVA idly, not really thinking it would work, then he tried the names of all the dads he could think of. Dick was forced to conclude that he’d have to go upstairs to get anywhere. He crept to the stairs and started up, but then the door from above opened.

Dick froze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m doing it,” the guy in the doorway said. His voice was vaguely familiar but Dick couldn’t see his face, until the guy took a few steps down and saw Dick, who was just standing there, useless.

The guy--Klarion the witch boy (what)--reacted before Dick could, in that he pointed his hands at him and then everything went black.

----

Dick woke up.

The first thing he noted was that Klarion, Steph, Kara, and Kon were gathered around him, arms crossed. The second thing he noted was that everyone was in costume. The third thing he noticed was that he was tied up.

He groaned.

“I hope I didn’t ruin your surprise for your dad,” he said, and everyone exchanged a look.

“What are you talking about?” Spoiler asked.

“I thought about asking you guys for help to get into the computer but I didn’t wanna take away from your dad’s anniversary present,” Dick said, aware that he wasn’t really explaining anything.

“Shut up, Gordon,” Superboy said.

“How long have you known our secret identities?” Spoiler demanded.

“Dick Gordon doesn’t know your identities,” Dick said. He felt like the last little question about this universe’s Dick was answered, the why wasn’t he a Wayne? Well, he still didn’t know why he wasn’t a Wayne, but at least he knew this Dick had grown up with a good father. “I mean, he might, I certainly don’t know, but that’s not the point. The point is that I’m from an alternate universe, and in my universe I’m Nightwing, and the first Robin, and Bruce Wayne’s oldest son.”

“Who the hell is Robin?” Superboy asked.

“It came from me!�� Dick said. “My mom used to call me that.”

“Okay, well, why should we believe you?” Supergirl asked.

“Could Klarion, like, magic test me, or something?”

“I could try,” Klarion sniffed, and he sent a little stream of black sparkles at Dick, who ignored them.

“Please, I’m just trying to get back to my own universe, and I really don’t wanna disturb your anniversary thing.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Spoiler said. “None of your concern.”

Dick frowned--in his universe that would absolutely be his concern--but he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, his energy signature’s way off,” Klarion said. “I’m pretty sure Z could do something about it, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“It’s fine,” Spoiler said. “We can call up the JLD and see if they can help.”

“Sure,” Dick said. “Anything.”

Superboy frowned at him and Supergirl and Spoiler started up a silent conversation. Klarion crossed his arms. Teekl meowed. A swirly light appeared behind them and Dick started.

“What?” Superboy asked.

“Turn around,” Dick said, and Superboy glared but Spoiler and Supergirl turned, just as voices started coming from the swirl.

“Are you sure this is the right one?”

“Absolutely. I matched your energy signatures. This should do it.”

The first voice was one Dick recognized--his own. The second voice Dick also recognized--Zatanna, maybe.

“Untie me,” Dick hissed, and Supergirl slashed the ropes with her heat vision. Dick stood and went to the swirl. He could vaguely see shapes on the other side, as if looking through tinted glass.

“Zatanna?” he called.

“Dick?” she responded. “Dick Grayson?”

“How do we know it’s the right alternate universe?” Spoiler asked, standing behind Dick. “I mean, what if it’s a third universe, and it’s all screwy?”

“I’m pretty sure it was an even exchange,” Zatanna said. “Go on, Gordon, step through.”

The other Dick came through the portal, and Dick sized him up. His hair was long, like Dick’d seen in the pictures. It was pulled back in a man bun. He was wearing a Metropolis Knights shirt that Dick recognized because there was a spot of discoloration along the bottom of the shirt from when Dick’d stained it.

The two Dicks looked at each other.

Dick Grayson took the phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

“This is yours,” he said.

Dick Gordon looked at it and smiled, handing Dick Grayson his own phone back. He recognized the lockscreen, and the little crack in the corner of the phone.

“Time to go back to reality,” Grayson said. “Did you have fun in my universe?”

“Not really,” Gordon said. “I don’t love how your dad operates.”

Grayson laughed, and Zatanna said, “Dick! I can only hold it open for a little longer.”

“I’m coming,” Grayson said. “Say hi to your kid for me, yeah? I didn’t talk to her, but….”

“I will,” Gordon said, smiling. Grayson moved closer to the swirl, then turned back to the three superheroes and Klarion, still standing there awkwardly.

“Hey,” Grayson said. “What was your password, underneath the code? I couldn’t figure it out.”

Spoiler looked at her siblings, then she said, “It changes, obviously, but, today it’s Pancake. The name of my dog.”

Grayson nodded and grinned, waving one more time and stepping through the swirl, and into his own Batcave.

#dick grayson #dick grayson-gordon #wally west #dickwally #new53 #stephanie wayne #duke thomas #damian wayne #kara lane #conner lane #writing #this is. possibly bad. but . wahtever.

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