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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

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Stopping you - Michael Gray [Part 3]

Words: 3.7k+

Warnings: Cursing. Smoking. Drinking Alcohol. Slight mentions of smut.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

After a long day at work, all you can think about is how good alcohol sounds right about now.

The men outside of your door are already drunk and dancing around in the pub. Not that you cared, working with singing men and loud footsteps is something you’re grown used to.

You leave your things over your desk and grab your keys. As you walked out of your office, you were welcomed by the smell of tobacco and whiskey, something that must be in engraved in the Garrison walls by now.

“Y/N!” A drunken man screams with his arms in the air, big smile and with great enthusiasm in his face. “How are you, my love?”

“I’m doing good. What about you, dear?” You ask with not even half of his enthusiasm, but with a small smile.

“Oh, you know, same old. My wife hates me still, which is unfortunate” He says, and you chuckle at his indifference towards the situation.

“You’ll eventually get her love again, I’m sure of it” You tell him, in hopes that that it would be enough to keep his cheery-self dancing around and not crying against the walls.

“I sure will”

You walk away from the man as the music continues to control the rhythm in the room, and as you get close enough to the bar’s counter, Billy looks over at you.

“The usual or something stronger?” He asks and you smile at him.

“The usual”

The strong option is your perfect drink when you haven’t been your best. Maybe work is being a bigger pain the ass or, even, Tommy got himself a new rival. Works for both of them, the only difference between them is how many cups you down on each night.

As Billy puts down, in front of you, a glass cup with whiskey, you’re quick to send him a grin as a thank you.

You sip your black-tea-coloured drink and almost sigh in content as the flavour extends from the tip of your tongue to the back and how it leaves its burning trail down your throat.

“Never thought you were the whiskey type of woman” Someone says beside you and you put your drink down when recognizing the voice.

“Usually happens when you don’t really know someone”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek at your words and looks down at the dark brown counter, silent.

You don’t look at him. Your hands play with the cold cup, fingers moving and creating droplets of water, which naturally drip down into the old wood.

Your eyes, then, travel the whole room, from the singer in the small stage to the drunk men that happily singed along, ignoring that they’re completely off tune.

Michael, on the other hand, when noticing that you aren’t looking at him, looks straight at you. Admiring your shiny hair that moves as you move to stare at someone else. Your suit, which shows to have no creases whatsoever and hugged your figure in all the right places. Your hands now decorated with golden pieces of jewellery just like his mother would, sometimes, wear.

The one thing Michael couldn’t take a good look at was your face. The one he now knows that is decorated with light make-up, making your infinite and natural beauty stand out to anyone who would cross paths with you.

“Are you planning on telling me why you’re here or do you want to continue to stare at me in silence?” You ask when turning back to your drink, making Michael get a good sight at your side profile.

“I wanted a drink” He answers, and you sigh.

“Not here at the Garrison” You correct, “Even though I do believe that this place doesn’t meet your American influenced standards” You say, adding the last words purely just to annoy him, “I meant why you’re sitting next to me”

Michael stands quiet, as he’s quite taken aback as he didn’t expect such spiteful words come out of your mouth.

“No special reason” He says, and you scoff, “You’re just the only person I know in this pub” He adds, making you almost roll your eyes.

“That usually happens to the ones that don’t stay in touch, you know?” You say, now looking up at him, “These people have been regulars for some time. Friends with the Peaky Blinders, friendly people”

Michael’s eyes stay glued on yours as you look over at him. Your eyes are filled with arrogance and disinterest, but they still made him hold on to his breath as they met with his.

Your words, though, were hurtful, and they got a reaction from him.

“You know it wasn’t my choice to leave for America” He says, grabbing his drink, which had been put down by Billy a few seconds ago as you talked.

“No. But it was your choice to leave us”

Michael is silent once more.

Confusion filled the man’s mind as you said those words, they didn’t make sense to him, especially after you just agreed on it not being his choice to leave the country.

Until they did.

He had left, physically, months before he really left. He was still a part of your and his mom’s life after getting on that boat. And it all ended because he-

It doesn’t matter anymore, now, does it?. Michael thought.

The truth tends to hurt more than it should, so might as well not speak of it.

“I’m happy to see that you’ve changed” Michael says, ignoring what you had said, sipping his whiskey.

You stay silent and quickly look over at the band, which was starting a new song.

“You sound and look more mature” He continues, “It seems as if you grew stronger”

“Can’t say the same about you” You say in almost a whisper without looking at him and Michael lets your words register in his mind before thinking of an answer.

Your finger circles the rim of your cup as you try to ignore the man’s presence and Michael decides to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin his opportunity to talk to you even further.

You sip your whiskey and immediately hate that you can’t even enjoy it as much as you wanted. Your mind is too occupied with Michael to even concentrate in the flavour of the drink.

A hand touches your back, making you snap back to reality, and you turn slightly to see the owner of the hand (and whether or not you need to chop it off him). You relax once your eyes meet Finn’s.

“Well, look if it isn’t the one who has been avoiding me for a whole week” You say with a smile, making Finn smile back at you.

“I haven’t been avoiding you” He says before pulling you into a small and tight hug.

The smell of tobacco hits you as your body collides with Finn’s chest and you wrap your arms around him to hug him back.

Billy is quick to run over to you and serve a drink to the youngest Shelby brother and you smile at Finn’s appearance once pulling away.

“You look like a mess” You comment at him and he rolls his eyes.

“No surprise there, Tommy has been giving the weirdest of orders lately” He says before downing his whole drink in one go, cringing slightly at the burning sensation and at the sour taste.

Michael’s eyes stay on his cousin as you smile brightly at him and he studies the situation silently. He can’t help but think about how this is, surely, a friendship he did not expect to see when coming back home.

Finn, the one guy that liked to suck petrol off people’s cars for fun, is now friends with a girl, who liked to run through flower fields and ride horses for a living. Now that’s a shocker.

Michael clenches his jaw once his cousin looks at him and he looks down at his drink, trying to hear your conversation as a way to relax his mind and not overthink about the whole situation.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” You ask Finn, catching the younger boy’s attention again.

“Am I being recruited to lay in bed the whole day?” He asks with a teasing smirk.

“You can always name a better idea to pass time”

“I sure know my ways” He jokes, and you hit his shoulder while dramatically gasping and biting your smile in.

Michael has had enough the moment he heard Finn’s words. His heart pumps in his chest as he grabs his cup and downs his drink in a swig.

He just wants to get out of there.

He quickly throws money at the counter and turns away from it, finally making his way out of the old Pub.

Finn glares at Michael’s back as he opens the door abruptly and you smile at the drunken men trying to pull you in for a group dance.

Your best friend looks away from Michael, who now is making his way to his car, and looks down at your laughing state, twirling while holding an older man’s hand. Finn smiles at you and you continue to laugh with the man as he makes his own twirl while holding your hand.

(…)

Finn’s ways to have fun can vary on who he’s hanging out with.

When he’s with you, in your days off, it can start with lying in bed and talk about life, and end with riding some of Tommy’s horses through some fields - which surprisingly always ends up with having races between you two.

You win, most of the time, and Finn easily gets done with riding whenever you do.

One day you tried to bake with him in Polly’s kitchen, just to try and do new things. And let’s just say that in a space of 15 minutes, Finn was able to turn the soft batter into pure cement.

‘Never again’, you told him.

At night, after dinner, your plans are a whole different story.

Pubs are simply the only way you two seem to know how to have fun, and the only think that varies in those nights, are the drinks and their quantities. Literally.

“Stop it!” You say loudly while smiling at Finn, who threw another handful of dry leaves at you.

“Or what?” He teases.

“Mud will find its way into your pockets really quick” You say with a serious expression and Finn snaps his head to you, shaking his head, “Oh yes, in your newly bought suit”

“You’re no fun” He says while leaning his head back on the grass.

The two of you lay on the grass of the field in silence, staring at the white clouds that covered most of the sky.

The horses aren’t far from you two, eating the fresh green grass happily while minding their own business.

“How have you been lately?” Finn asks, breaking the silence. “About, you know, Michael coming back”

“Not that bad” You say in a whisper, closing your eyes as the sun peeks from the clouds, warming your exposed skin.

“Are you sure?”

You don’t answer him this time, making Finn move his head to the side and look up at you. He stares at your face, which already has its natural frown engraved into it, and expects a reaction. Which did not seem to appear.

It’s like you didn’t even hear him. But he knows you did.

“I haven’t met his fiancé yet” He continues, and you scoff, making him smirk.

“You aren’t missing much”

Finn’s smirk curves into a full-grown smile and he looks back at the sky, bright eyes burning at the brightness.

“What’s the worst thing about her?” He asks, actually curious about the blonde American he has heard so much of.

“Attitude” You answer quickly, without even a second thought.

“That bad, uh?”

You smile at his curiosity and open your eyes slightly, squinting at the light.

“No, Finn. She’s not your type” You say in a reprehensive tone, and he chuckles with you, punching your leg lightly. “But seriously, this time. She isn’t that special”

“Ooh” He says in a low voice and a teasing tone, “You hate her”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate’” You comment, “Just strongly dislike” You add while laughing in between words, making Finn shake his head in disbelief.

He sighs loudly and holds himself up on his arms before laying his head on your thighs.

“I wish I was on that family meeting” He says, making you grin and lay your hand on his head.

Your fingers play with his short hair while deep in thought, imagining Gina’s face and remembering how much she annoyed you the other day.

“You would’ve made it more entertaining, to be honest” You say and Finn dramatically gasps.

“I knew that you would eventually miss me in meetings. Just try to tell that to Tommy so I can finally be accepted back in”

You laugh loudly at him and he smiles at the sound of your laughter.

(…)

Michael pushes the Garrison’s doors open while walking in and that was enough to catch some people’s attention. His face is well known, even to the ones that are not too familiar of the Peaky Blinders, or even Birmingham as a whole.

His eyes travel through the people around the pub and they quickly land on you.

He immediately notices by your movements that you’re drunk out of your mind as you danced with older men and women at the loud live music and smiled up at them.

His eyes drift away from you and as he reaches the counter, he orders a drink to Billy, who noticed his presence once he came in.

As the man behind the counter starts to serve his drink, Michael looks over his shoulder to check and see if he hasn’t lost you in the crowd just yet.

He then took notice of the dress that you’re wearing.

Memories crashed into his mind like waves into rocks. It’s the same dress that you wore in Tommy and Grace’s wedding.

It’s black, which was unusual to your style at the time, but still flowy. It moves with you and with the wind, easily catching people’s attention when you danced around them.

The day of the wedding was definitely one of his favourite memories of you.

He remembers how the two of you sat next to each other during the religious ceremony that connected Grace and Thomas to each other.

And how you two silently imagined how that would be the two of you in some years.

The way you leaned your head on his shoulder and pulled his hand into your lap.

It was all engraved in his mind.

If he had the choice, he would forget all of the days that you two shared together. Before all that happened, those memories were what calmed Michael down and brought him back to the sweeter side of reality. But now, they only work as a torture mechanism for his brain.

He doesn’t want to remember the old times, especially when his fiancé is just a few streets away from this pub, sleeping, and completely unaware that he isn’t next to her in bed.

But his mind likes to play tricks.

The images of all the hugs and soft kisses from that day replayed on his head. Even what had happened after the ceremony, in one of the storage rooms.

Your soft gasps and your delicate touch replayed as if it was no longer a memory, but reality. The way his hands touched the soft skin of your hips and your thighs, while you moaned softly into his ear, trying to keep quiet.

It was all so vivid that it felt like it happened just the day before.

And those were only memories of one good day.

Michael has millions of memories of the two of you.

And, unfortunately, only few were bad.

As he stares into the ground, trying to shake away his thoughts, you notice him. A smile grew in your face immediately.

You down your drink and decide to walk over to him, stumbling over some things on your way to him. Some men around you laugh at how you almost lose your balance and fall to the ground a few times, but you ignore them.

“Look if it isn’t the American wannabe” You say loudly when you reach his side and Michael looks up from the floor at you.

“Already with the insults?” He asks and you shrug.

“It’s just a reflex by now” You comment making him nod and lift his eyebrows in annoyance. “Where’s your wife?”

“My fiancée” He corrects but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it, “is at the hotel”

You frown slightly.

“Sad. We could all have fun together”

Michael ignores your comment and you lean in closer to him.

“Did you ever love me?” You lean over to the counter and lay your head on your fist as you waited for an answer, in which you never got. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Your voice is a complete giveaway of your intoxication. That, and the small hiccups between words.

Michael doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at his drink.

“You always said you did” You say before looking down at the rings on your hands. “Must’ve been a lie”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek as he fights to stay quiet, but he decides not to.

“It wasn’t a lie”

“That’s what a liar would say” You exclaim proudly, and he rolls his eyes at your immaturity, mostly caused by the large amount of gin and whiskey you’ve consumed.

If you had to be honest, alcohol is obviously what is making you want to talk to Michael in the first place, even if it’s just to insult him. You wouldn’t make your sober feet move to go talk to him, and that was even obvious to Michael, who still saw this as improvement.

Out of frustration, Michael takes a cigarette out of its metal box and lights it in a quick movement. He inhales and his lungs fill with the familiar smoke, like any other day. But it feels different.

Maybe it’s because he’s not used to smoking in this particular pub after these 2 years, or maybe it’s just your presence next to his.

At least that’s he likes to believe.

The nicotine isn’t relaxing him as it usually did. So may God help him through the night.

You look over your shoulder at Michael and slightly turn over to stand in front of the man, between him and the counter. Your eyes analyse his face and your eyes meet for a slight second.

“You have an eyelash-” You say while extending your hand over Michael’s face, reaching for his face, swiping your thumb over the eyelash that has fallen onto his cheek.

Michael doesn’t flinch at your touch or even slightly move away; he lets you touch him. You blow the small hair out of your finger and your eyes drift over to his, once more.

“You didn’t change at all” You say with a slight frown on your face.

“That’s normal. Two years isn’t that long” He answers back.

You scoff at his words while fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Speak for yourself” You whisper, and Michael almost doesn’t hear it. “Anyways, you need to start bringing your wife out more times. I’m interested in knowing her better”

“She’s not my wife” He corrects you once more, “And that is not happening”

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Pretty obvious, if you ask me”

You ignore him and look around the bar, bored out of your mind.

“I still don’t know what you see in her” You say while confidently grabbing Michael’s drink from the counter and sipping it.

“Many things” He answers dryly.

“So many that you can’t even name one?” You tease and Michael looks away from you. “Come on, Miss America must have at least one good thing about her”

He shakes his head before looking back at you

“Why do you care so much?”

“Just curious” You say while shrugging, “She was a big surprise to all of us. It wouldn’t hurt to know a little more about her”

“We can talk whenever you’re sober”

“Ooh, you’re a big responsible man, now” You say with an annoyed tone, “Damn, you can be annoying”

“That insult is new” He teases further.

He is definitely the most infuriating person you’ve ever met. Maybe he has changed after all.

“You are probably the person I hate the most in the world, now that I think about it” You say, ignoring his words and drunkenly smiling at him.

You have to annoy him as much as you can, it’s only fair if the two of you suffer.

Michael clenches his jaw and you continue to smile at him. The smile is more than fake, and that can be seen from a mile away.

“Did I hit a nerve?” You ask him, “If so, I’m sure that you can always walk out of here to your wife’s arms, like the loyal husband that you are”

Oh, two can play at that game; Michael thought.

“You’re sounding a little obsessed” He says with a fake smile as well, not wanting to correct you again.

“Really?” You ask with a scoff, “Maybe we can start a competition on who’s more obsessed, then. Since, well, you know, it’s the second day you come in this pub and stare at me, while I’m quietly minding my own business”

Michael stays silent and you lean closer to him.

“Go back to your wife, Michael. I’m sure you’re more welcomed there, anyways” You say, “Oh, and isn’t she supposedly pregnant as well?”

“She isn’t”

“What a bummer”

You smile while leaning closer to Michael, who surprisingly hasn’t taken a step back yet, and your eyes move to stare down at his lips as a reflex. You stare back at his eyes to find them doing the same thing.

The alcohol pulls the two of you closer and your lips crash onto the corner of his lips.

It lasts 2 seconds and as you pull away slightly before Michael could make a scene, and to your surprise, he looks annoyed.

You pull back completely and down the rest of his drink, quickly walking away from the bar, over to the men that were already ready to dance again.

You smile proudly at you did and shout with the men in excitement as you restart the dance with them.

Tomorrow’s going to be fun.

- - - - - -

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#michael gray x reader #michael gray #finn shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagin #finn cole #finn cole x reader #fanfiction

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migila · 3 years

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The Horse? Check! The Cart? Check! Fic time!

Gratitude

Pieck yawns as she sits up on her bed, the rays of morning sun coming in from the window telling her that it’s time to get up. So, she does, but she takes her time dressing herself before throwing the window open, taking in the sight of the waking streets of the city of Trost, her hometown since the war ended. It’s a beautiful place, really. Had she not been told; she would’ve never guessed that it had once been run over by titans. And how long ago had that been? Six years? Seven? With how far behind Paradis was with everything, they sure rebuilt fast.

Catching a delicious scent, Pieck decides that it’s time to head downstairs, least someone comes to get her.

As she walks, she takes in the dents and fading in the walls and the stairs for no particular reason, her mind just simply desiring to focus on something, anything.

“Smells good” she comments as she walks in to the kitchen.

“Why thank you dear; you’re always so polite” the woman at the counter says as she turns around “Unlike that son of mine.”

“You do know that I’m sitting right here, don’t you mom?” Jean comments from the kitchen table, drinking his coffee.

“Of course, Jeanboy, of course” she waives him off “You sit down too, Pieck dear, the breakfast is almost done.”

Pieck did as told, having learned the hard way that arguing would be futile. And it’s not like there was any harm in taking it easy, especially not on this morning.

“Did you sleep well?” Jean asks. He’s looking directly at Pieck over his coffee mug, and the woman notes that the soldier looks like he certainly hadn’t.

“Like a corpse” she answers with a smile, making Jean grimace. That dims Pieck’s mood a tiny bit as her smile falls “What’s wrong?”

Jean stares at her for a while before sighing, clearly holding something back.

“Nothing”

She knows it’s not nothing, though. She knows what’s bothering him. She meant to hold this talk off until they were out of his mother’s hearing range, for the sake of privacy, but maybe she should talk to him now.

“Jean- “

“Food is ready!” Mrs. Kirstein announces before Pieck can really even start.

Biting back a sigh of her own, she smiles at the older woman “Thank you, ma’am.”

Mrs. Kirstein smiles at her, and Pieck looks down at the omelet in front of her. It would be a pity to let it cool down, so their talk would have to wait.

XXXXX

Now they sat in the carriage, just the two of them, but Pieck chose not to speak. She was looking out the window, watching the scenery one last time. Somehow, she preferred that over the talk she knew they’d eventually have to have. But not right now; she wanted to savor the moment.

“Pieck”

Apparently, Jean didn’t.

“Yeah?” she turned to look at him “Did you forget something?”

Jean frowns.

“No” he says “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to do before we go? We don’t need to be at the HQ until five; we still have hours” he pauses “You still have hours.”

Pieck swallows. Of course, she knows that. Both of them do, but she would’ve preferred if he didn’t voice it, didn’t remind her of it now that she could still distract herself.

“I’m good” she says “I said goodbye to my father yesterday, and Annie and the others will be there. That’s all I need.”

Jean looked disappointed… wait, no, that might not be the right word. Perhaps just… sad?

She smiles at him.

“Is there something you still want to do?” she asks “It’s like you said; there’s still time. I’ll come along if there’s somewhere you want to stop by in.”

“…No, I’m good”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah”

Pieck shrugs, returning to watch out of the window, enjoying the sceneries slipping by.

XXXXX

“You didn’t eat anything at lunch” Jean points out as they walk down the stairs leading underground.

“I wanted to savor the taste of the breakfast”

Jean barks out an unamused laugh.

“You really wanted a freaking omelet to be your last meal?”

“An omelet your mom made” Pieck clarifies “She’s good at that.”

“…Can’t deny it” Jean admits. As Pieck reaches the end of the stairs she stops, not continuing down the hallway. Jean, still having a few steps left, stops as well; she can hear it.

“…Guess this is it” she says. She takes a deep breath “After I became a warrior, I always knew this was how and when my life would end, assuming I didn’t die in the battlefield first of course. I never really dreaded it, and I still don’t. Even if I don’t do this, I’d die soon anyway.”

“…Yeah, you would” Jean says, his voice sounding uncomfortable and strained to Pieck’s ears.

“I have a lot of regrets, just like any of us” she continues “But I do not regret becoming a warrior.”

She smiles, able to imagine Jean’s surprised face behind her perfectly. She was sure of that.

“…Why?” she hears Jean ask. She knew he would “Were you not a warrior, you could live to see this new era with us. You could live here on this island, in Eldia, and be free, no longer persecuted and locked in an interment zone.”

“Had I not become a warrior, I hadn’t become who I am now” she tells him “I might have died as a soldier in some of Marley’s wars, any of them. Or maybe not; maybe I would’ve survived them and died at the rumbling. Or maybe I had survived that too, living my life hating the faceless devils of Paradis that destroyed a large chunk of the world. In any of those cases, I wouldn’t have become friends with the people I did.”

She pauses.

“You and I certainly wouldn’t be here, talking without trying to bite each other’s heads off”

“You literally tried that when we first met”

“And you tried to blow me up when we met the second time” Pieck countered with a chuckle “But tell me, Jean, despite all that, are we friends?”

She hears him huff.

“Would I have agreed to be the one to keep an eye on you after the war ended if we weren’t?”

“You’re a soldier; you’d do so if ordered” she shrugs “Don’t misunderstand me; I’m glad to have been by your side instead of in a cell like Reiner did.”

“I did offer to look after him” Jean mutters “But he refused. He preferred the cells.”

“He felt guilty for all that happened” she pauses, considering if she should say it or not, but decides to go with it “I don’t; not to the extent he did, at least.”

Instead of getting angry, she hears Jean say: “Me neither.”

She doesn’t turn around to look at him; she just waits for him to continue.

“I feel guilt for the civilian damage I caused over the years, guilt over killing others who were only following orders like I did, and guilt over not being able to protect all my friends, but not the way Reiner did” Jean says “I think I’m simply able to accept it better and to move on.”

“Perhaps” Pieck says, her lips curving in to a mischievous smile “Or maybe you and I are just bigger devils than he was.”

It’s silent for a few seconds, and then she hears Jean chuckle again.

“Possible” she hears him say “Sorry that the price for your limited freedom was to have to deal with my mom, too.”

“What are you talking about, Jeanboy? Your mother is lovely” Pieck laughs, just knowing that Jean is now frowning “…Really, I like her. I’m glad we stayed at your house from time to time instead of always staying in the military barracks.”

She closes her eyes.

“I’m glad that you showed me around your hometown, let me see the ordinary life of Paradis’ Eldians. I’m glad that you never asked your superiors for a break of me, and stayed with me this remaining time. So, Jean, for everything you’ve done for me- “she turns around to face him with a smile on her face “Thank you.”

They look at each other straight in the eyes, and Pieck doesn’t comment on the tears streaming freely down the man’s face. For once he isn’t trying to hide them or make some lame, see through excuse about them. She sees his mouth open and close, but either he can’t get a word out, or simply doesn’t know what to say. Feeling her own eyes starting to sting, Pieck knows that she has to put and end to this before any grief or fear can break her composure.

“Goodbye, Jean” she says, turning around again “I had fun.”

She walks down the hallway, taking deep, silent breaths, wanting to calm down before she’d reach her destination. Before she’d step in to the chamber she’d die in.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, seeing people waiting for her. She’d said goodbye to Annie and the kids above ground and Reiner’s term had ended a week ago, so it was only just the scouts present. She didn’t loathe them, didn’t hate them. They were her comrades in arms, her friends, even if she wasn’t close with them. She said her goodbyes before climbing off to her place, watching down from there as a lone scout was handed a syringe before walking forward. She didn’t look at the scout; she didn’t know that woman. Instead, her eyes drifted off to the people she did know, smiling as she saw Jean among them, no longer crying, though everyone could see he had done so. She was staring directly at him, so she saw his lips move. He could’ve just yelled it out, but guess he didn’t want the others to notice. Of course, he knew that Pieck could read lips. And so, she did.

“Thank you”

#pieck finger #jean kirstein #jeanpiku #jeanpieck #pikujean #snk fic

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 18: High-Key Want A Three-Headed Dog

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

I turned to my friends. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative." Percy said.

"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy took the pearls out of his pocket, the three milky spheres the Nereid had given us in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong. I had mine mixed up in there in case mine was rigged, Percy insisted upon it.

Annabeth put her hand on Percy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

She gave Grover a nudge.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

"Don't worry Percy. We'll do this."

He looked at us, and smiled.

He slipped the pearls back in his pocket. "Let's whup some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking... transparent. I could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

Percy read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment. "Your name is Chiron?"

He leaned across the desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a pythons, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy said.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," I said.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy looked at me for support.

"We want to go the Underworld," I said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" I asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

I nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um... drowned... in the bathtub."

"All four of you?" Charon asked. We nodded. I could see Annabeth wanted to face palm.

"Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Annabeth set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash we'd found in Crusty's office desk.

"Well, now..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..."

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

We were so close.

Then Charon looked at Percy. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through his chest. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Annabeth insisted.

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.

Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

He started to go for the coins, but I snatched them back.

"No service, no tip." I said staring at him.

Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," I sighed. "We had more to offer."

I held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. I took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through my fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," I said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," I agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay."

With each word, I stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

I stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off."

He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," she said. "That's... fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive," Percy said.

"Ha."

I could feel we weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying.

Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets—like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw me looking, and said, "Well?"

"Nothing," I said. "I never knew you could look cool dead."

I thought he was grinning, but that wasn't it. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting me see straight through to his skull.

The floor kept swaying.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

Panic closed up my throat. What was I doing here? These people around me... they were dead.

Percy grabbed hold of my hand. Annabeth took my other free one. I knew she wanted reassurance that somebody else was alive on this boat.

I could hear Percy muttering a prayer, though I wasn't quite sure who I was praying to. Down here, only one god mattered, and he was the one we had come to confront.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path.

I'm not sure what I was expecting—Pearly Gates, or a big black portcullis, or something. But the entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy asked Annabeth.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," she said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."

"Harsh," Percy said.

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk. The face of the dead man looked vaguely familiar.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

"Oh, yeah." Percy said. "We'd seen him on TV a couple of times at the Yancy Academy dorm. He was this annoying televangelist from upstate New York who'd raised millions of dollars for orphanages and then got caught spending the money on stuff for his mansion, like gold-plated toilet seats, and an indoor putt-putt golf course. He'd died in a police chase when his "Lamborghini for the Lord" went off a cliff."

"Humans." I said rolling my eyes, "What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

The thought of the Furies made me shudder. I realized I was in their home territory now. Old Mrs. Dodds and Mrs . Rudolph would be licking her lips with anticipation.

"But if he's a preacher," Percy said, "and he believes in a different hell... ."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—er, persistent, that way."

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet, about fifty feet in front of us, standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

My jaw hung open. All I could think to say was, "He's a Rottweiler."

I'd always imagined Cerberus as a big black mastiff. But he was obviously a purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a woolly mammoth, and had three heads.

"I thought he would've been a mastiff."

"Same..."

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

"I think ..." Annabeth moistened her lips. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead."

The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," I said.

"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to Percy. "Because we have a plan."

"Right," Annabeth said. I'd never heard her voice sound quite so small. "A plan."

We moved toward the monster.

The middle head snarled at us, then barked so loud my eyeballs rattled.

"Can you understand it?" I asked Grover.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy took the big stick out of his backpack—a bedpost we'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe floor model. He held it up, and tried to channel happy dog thoughts toward Cerberus—Alpo commercials, cute little puppies, fire hydrants.

"Hey, Big Fella," He called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

"GROWWWLLLL!"

"Good boy," he said weakly.

Percy waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on Percy, completely ignoring the spirits. Percy had Cerberus's undivided attention. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Fetch!" I threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. I heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.

Cerberus glared at me, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.

So much for the plan.

Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.

"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that... well... he's hungry."

"Wait!" Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack.

"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"

Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before I could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Cerberus looked as stunned as we were.

All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" Annabeth called again.

I don't know why but petting this gigantic three headed dog would have made my bucket list complete. I walked up to Annabeth with Percy and Grover panicking behind.

"I want to pet him. Cerberus sit!"

"Sit!" Annabeth yelled.

Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.

I said, "Good boy!"

Annabeth threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it.'" I ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at me. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

She turned toward the two. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."

Percy said, "But—"

"Now.'" She ordered, in the same tone she was using on the dog.

"You should go too. I wouldn't mind."

"How are you sure he'll follow you?" Annabeth laughed.

"I had a dog you know. Real sweetheart. Pretty sure he'll be as cute."

Grover and Percy inched forward warily.

Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" Annabeth ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

"What about you guys?" Percy asked us as we passed her.

Annabeth looked at me and nodded. "Y/N wants to pet him," she muttered. "I think she can handle him."

Grover, Annabeth and Percy walked between the Cerberus's legs.

I was tempted to make Cerberus sit to be honest.

When made it through. I said, "Good dog!"

I held up the tattered red ball. The ball was tattered and this is going to be the last trick.

"Cerberus, could you get closer to me?" I called hesitantly. All three heads leaned down.

Oh gods... Oh gods... I'm going to pet him... I reluctantly touched his head. His head leaned to my touch. "Good boy." I cooed petting each his head. He whimpered on my touch. "Okay boy." I leaned my head against his middle one.

I threw the ball. The good boy's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, I walked under its belly and joined us at the metal detector.

"Bucket list solved." Annabeth and I fist bumped.

"How did you do that?" Percy looked at Annabeth and I, amazed.

"Obedience school," Annabeth said breathlessly, "When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Doberman... ."

"I had D/N you knew that." I was surprised to see there were tears in her eyes. "I promise I'll play again!"

"Never mind that," Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. "Come on!"

We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. Annabeth and I stopped.

We turned to face the cutie which had done a one-eighty to look at us.

Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," Annabeth said, but her voice sounded melancholy and uncertain.

The monster's heads turned sideways, as if worried.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," Annabeth promised faintly. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. I didn't need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for the ball.

"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I promise we'll come back." I turned to the others. "Let's go."

Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus started to bark.

We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.

A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what have we learned today?"

"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"

"No," Grover told me. "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!"

I wasn't sure about that. I thought maybe Annabeth and I had both had the right idea. Even here in the Underworld, everybody—even monsters—needed a little attention once in a while.

I thought about that as we waited for the ghouls to pass. I pulled Annabeth closer as she wipe a tear from her cheek as we listened to the mournful keening of Cerberus in the distance,.

"We'll come back..."

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Plus One

Things get real. Can you totally hide your feelings for Steve any longer?

smut warning

(chapter four) @mochminnie @wolfish-willow

You’re in the bathroom trying not to freak out or let it show just how much your mind was reeling from earlier. It couldn’t be happening, right? There’s no way you were falling for Steve Harrington.

No, no way. He was so different from you.

But opposites attract right?

You grimaced, thinking back to the way his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. The way he too seemed unsure of going for it.

This would change your entire dynamic. Were you even ready to open up to someone else?

Steve knew you, sure, but just the things at surface level. Things you wanted him to know. You were afraid to even tell him about everything else back home, thinking maybe he would freak at the first sight of a parent gushing over how perfect he seemed.

If there’s anything a person never is, it’s perfect.

In many ways, Steve just didn’t seem like an ideal candidate. He never put his things away, snores too loudly, had the romantic personality of a ninth-grader, was obsessed with his hair way more than you were, and he looked for superficial things.

He knew it too deep down, it was better to ignore the flaws for the love we think we deserved instead of feeling contrite when the ugly truth was out there.

That’s where you differed. You needed honesty, it was the only way to live.

Knock.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve’s voice echoed from behind the door.

You squeezed your eyes shut. He just had to be here right now, didn’t he?

You think of something gross enough to keep him on the other side.

“I think the food’s not agreeing with me right now.”

“Oh okay, do you need anything?” Damn it, leave!

“No! I mean - no. It’s alright. I’ll be right out.”

You count down from ten, trying to ease your anxious nerves. You take deep breaths and exhale once you get to the primary numbers. At one, you stand straight and march out of the bathroom as if nothing happened. Steve sits on the edge of the bed in his dress shirt now, his blazer discarded onto the chair next to him.

He’s watching the tv blankly, a rerun of a show you both had seen back home fills out the room. You grab your night clothes and return to the bathroom, changing as fast as you can to slide into bed and call it a night. When you return, Steve’s still where he was before, only now fidgeting with the cuff links on his wrist.

You should be paid for how much you’re able to get out of him.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry or something.”

“My dad’s getting married.”

It takes you by surprise. Steve’s never talked about his dad before, not even to Robin.

“Oh,” You say simply. “Like renewing his vows or something?”

He shakes his head.

“My mom moved away a while ago. My dad, he uh…..met this woman half his age after her. She’s got kids from another marriage.” He flicks the cuff link.

“Before I moved to New York with Robin, I would just see and hear them all the time at home. He was nicer to them, do things with them that I had to beg him to do with me when I was a kid.”

You sit next to him, bringing your hand to rest atop his own.

“The night before I left, I just told him off. I told him it wasn’t fair that he got to start over with another family just because he messed ours up. He called me before we got here saying he wanted me to be his best man.”

He falls silent, his lip quivers but he purses his lips into a straight line to keep himself from letting it out. You can’t say much that will help him, but you understand his disdain and avoidance of weddings thus far.

“What’d you tell him?”

He shrugs. “I told him I’d think about it. He expects an answer when we go home.”

“Well, at least he’s happy.” You sigh.

“Yeah, for now. And then it’s onto the next one.”

You don’t want to do it, but since you’re just letting the skeletons out of the closet, you might as well.

“You know my parents are still together?” you start. “My mom’s always been this, overbearing cross that my dad carries around. She yells at him all the time but I think he’s checked out already. They didn’t want to divorce because they thought it would damn them or mess me up. But I think it did anyway.”

Steve’s entranced by you, you were opening up.

“They’ve stuck it out since they had me. And it’s just sad now. I think about them sometimes, just sitting in that house, eating their dinner and sleeping together, not saying a word to each other.”

Steve opens his mouth like he’s about to apologize for even bringing the parent topic up.

“Sure your parents split up, but at least they’re not miserable. I can tell you from experience you would’ve liked that a lot less.” You conclude, removing your hand from his and leaving to go to bed.

It’s been a weird night.

Steve stops you though, his fingers snaking onto your wrist. You turn back, thinking he’s going to talk more about his family or dive deeper into some other trauma. Imagine your surprise when he stands and bends to your level to pull you into his arms, bringing you in tight and firm. You’re taken aback, arms flying up but eventually settling on his broad back. Your fingers clutch his shirt in fistfuls, taking in the smell of him.

“Hey, Steve?”

He hums.

“I’m totally reading your boner right now.”

“And the moment’s over.” He says, pulling away. You almost frown at the loss of his body pressing against yours.

“I’m kidding!” You huff, pushing him back onto the bed.

You settle in after he changes, pulling the covers up to your chest and putting your arms above them in thought. Steve sees you staring at the ceiling.

“Have you gone catatonic on me?”

“No, it’s just….this is the most I’ve gotten out of you in two years.”

“You’ve known me for two years.” He crawls in, getting comfortable.

“Yeah but, you know, are these really things you’ve told Robin before?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“She never asked.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that. While Robin felt comfortable revealing the truth about herself that Fourth of July, Steve had learned to keep things to himself. It’s how he was raised. But you and Robin changed that, especially with the way you tended to overshare things sometimes.

You turn onto your side, facing him. He’s thinking about something, and he looks so magnificent doing it. The way his hair rests on his forehead, the way his fingers curl around the blanket...

Oh no. Is this how it starts? Admiring him? Craving his touch like earlier? Wanting his attention fully on you and not all these other women? It was so juvenile, feeling like this was your first love again. The strong feeling hitting you just like the waves did earlier.

It was no secret you were touch starved, but there was something in the way his touch relaxed you. It made you think sometimes. Whatever this feeling was, it was different from what you felt with Danny. You jumped the shark with him, you didn’t really know him.

But with Steve, you were starting to. He was bare bones with you.

“Goodnight.” He whispers, turning the bedside lamp off.

“Goodnight.”

“Are you telling me you don’t know how to ride a bike?” You ask Steve, watching him shift uncomfortably and unevenly on the beach cruiser.

It was your last day being in Virginia, and you didn’t want to sit in the hotel and gorge on food until you passed out. That’s what home was reserved for.

Joyce had spoken of how lovely the horses and horseback riding was here, but that was closed so you settled for the next best thing. Riding bikes at the beach.

“No I - I do know, I’m just saying this is a hard seat.”

He’s been adamant about this for five minutes now. Every now and then a girl will pass by and he’ll try to sit, only to fall on his side. You’ve taken so many snapshots of this, each time bellowing with ridiculous laughter.

“When we go home I’m developing this and hanging it on the fridge.”

“Erase this footage!” He gestures to the camera, losing balance again.

“Make me, Harrington!” You can’t help but shoot back.

Passersby found it funny the way you two were bickering. Even more so when you lent over to show Steve how to keep his arms and legs on the bike, him reassuring you he knew where everything went.

“I can do it.”

“Okay, let’s see then.” You cross your arms and stand aside waiting.

He mutters to himself and puts both his feet on the pedals, not falling to either side this time. He grips the handlebars and pedals forward, passing you with an excitement lighting up his face that a child would have when they were first learning.

He can’t manage the turn and falters, sticking a foot and hand out to cushion his fall. You catch up to him, ready to help but he lays down onto the grass and accepts his failure.

“Come on, you’ll get the hang of it. You just need more practice.”

You hold out your hand, waiting for him to take it.

“I know this keeps you healthy, but at what cost?” He grabs on, using you to balance him when he gets to his feet again. He’s too tall and heavy for you, prompting you to waver slightly and hold onto him.

You pull away when you realize your hands rested on his chest, his other arm holding onto your lower back. He scratches the back of his head nervously uttering an apology.

Feeling the blush creep to your cheeks, you return to your ride, mounting and waiting for him to do the same.

“Try to catch up.” You smirk, racing off down the hill and squealing.

“What are you, Evel Knievel?!” He yells after you, wobbling and gritting his teeth as he follows after you.

You have the upper hand on him the entire time, often hiding behind shops and emerging from behind him when he thinks he’s faster. You ride until the sun sets, enjoying the breeze and the little bit of sun before stopping at an ice cream shop. Steve thinks he’s something of an ice cream connoisseur when you look at flavors. You two end up fighting on flavors before settling on two different ones and eating outside in a garden the shop owner called a hidden gem.

“No way, cookies ‘n cream is the best one.” He remarks, finishing off the cone.

“Mint chocolate is actually superior and I won’t hear another word about it.” You took your time, enjoying the sensation your mouth was on.

He shakes his head. “It’s basically gum! It’s disgusting!”

“But it tastes so good!” You take another bite teeth first and moan in delight.

He groans in disgust but nonetheless is amused when you try to get him to eat a bit of it. He avoids your hand, moving his head out of the way every time it’s shoved in his face. You wait, plotting.

“You have some on your lip.” You say, pointing toward his top lip. He licks at it, tasting nothing.

“There’s noth -”

He’s muffled by a mouthful mint chocolate. You can’t help it when the corners of your lips lift into a smug smirk.

“Funny, huh?” He says, wiping it off with his hand.

He takes the rest of the cone and dips his fingertips in it, turning his attention to painting your cheeks and lips with as much as he can. You recoil and gasp as the cold sensation, trying to get it off but he keeps attacking.

“Okay! Okay! Truce!” You wave a figurative white flag. He stops, proud of his work, and tops it off by rustling your hair.

“I’m so gonna get you,” You promise, wiping at your cheeks and going to get him with the residue when you turn to face him and find your faces are closer than ever.

You fall silent, the trouble maker in you declining to come back for an encore.

“What, no smartass remark this time?” He teases.

As cliche as it might sound, you’re lost in his smugness. His smile falters, his brows furrowing as he realizes what he’s doing, the gap between your faces closing. You close your eyes first, testing the waters and pressing your lips against his softly. He pauses for a moment, suddenly aware of the gravity of what you were doing, bringing his hand up for your cheek to rest on. His eyes flutter shut soon after, diving into your lips and tasting the mixture of sweets.

He kisses you feverishly and desperately, sighing as he relaxes into you. Your fingers tug at his hair and the back collar of his shirt. He leads you down onto the grass, flowers decorate your head in a red halo. He settles in between your legs and holds himself up by his forearms, his fingers entangling themselves in your hair as he cocks his head to the side to get more of you.

It’s been a while but both of you are antsy and eager. You kick off your shoes and immediately make quick work of his belted pants. He catches your drift and helps you with your skirt, pulling the long pleated material up to snag both ends of your panties.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” He whispers.

“No, it’s okay, just - here,” You grunt as you try to help him from where you’re laying, lifting your hips up to let the fabric slide off. The cool air of the night makes you shiver.

Steve peppers you with kisses as you reach for the belt and unbuckle it. Hearing it come undone makes you even more aroused.

“Hold on.” He says in a breathy voice, reaching between your bodies and lining himself in. You tease him by wrapping a leg around his torso and pushing him in slowly with the heel of your foot against his butt.

The feeling overwhelms him, letting out a sharp exhale. He glances back to your smug face and glares at you momentarily.

You move in sync, your hand grasping onto his broad shoulders and the other on his bicep to keep the pace. He grunts into your shoulder, lost in the lust. His hand comes to rest under your head to support it while also gripping it with each thrust he bucked into you.

Each thrust was different, pleasurable, and enticing. It fulfilled the need for him you had that night at the beach. You catch yourself smiling, knowing none of the bridesmaids or guests he tried flirting with got this far. Not even Sissy.

He hits a spot in you that rouses you out of your thoughts and leaves you mewling wantonly. You know he won’t last, not at the rate his thrusts are going. He’s crying out, bucking against you in fervor, gripping your hair harder, and groaning louder into your neck. You made him this way.

Ever since the first wedding, seeing you out of your element made him reconsider some things. Sure if he’d gotten a girlfriend out of this, it would be good for him. But something about you made him feel the way he thought he felt for Nancy.

He felt seventeen all over again, giddy and in love and a little horny. He just didn’t know if you felt the same. But after the beach incident and the way you took the lead first, all doubts went away.

Thinking about you, he slides his thumb into his mouth and lubricates it, snaking it down to the neglected pearl in between your legs. Your eyes shut in ecstasy at the added sensation, your back arching into him. You feel your legs shake and your feet writhe against his ass trying to amplify the feeling. His heavy breaths, needy kisses, and raunchy whispers in your ear are absolute heaven to you.

You come before him, muffling your lewd moans into his shoulder and milking him for everything he’s got. He comes with a final sloppy thrust and collapses onto you, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you catching your breath.

He pants, breath hot and heavy against your collarbone. Your legs unwrap from their previous position, now shaky and limp.

Once you two catch your breath after about a minute or two, Steve lifts his head to rest his forehead against yours. You both chuckle, finally acknowledging the broken tension.

Steve kisses you again, this time without fear or doubt. Just pure adoration.

You don’t really feel yourself fall asleep, neither does he. But you’re definitely mortified in the morning when you hear voices that wake you up with a start.

“Cooter’s out.” The old gardener points out.

The statement wakes you up, and when you realize you just flashed your privates you stand up quickly and shake Steve awake. He groans, but opens his eyes, his smile dropping once he notices the man in front of you two.

“Cooter’s out.” The old man repeats.

You pull the skirt all the way down and grab your shoes quickly while Steve tucks himself back in and apologizes profusely. You grab his hand and race out of the garden, red as a tomato and grab the bikes to go back to the hotel.

The car ride to the airport is quiet. You thank yourself for bringing something to read to avoid mentioning the embarrassing aftermath. Steve didn’t bring anything to distract him like you did, but he glances at you every so often. When your eyes meet, you both turn away quickly. But the smile on both your faces betrays you both.

Steve doesn’t even bother flirting with the flight attendant this time, his eyes are completely on you. It feels odd. You can’t even find a smart-ass thing to say, it’s like you’re short-circuiting. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but if the constant staring and easy smiles and looks of adoration he gave you were any indications, he was whipped.

You sigh in relief as you plop onto the couch, letting all your things fall after Steve gets in. He takes the initiative to break the ice when he collapses onto your chest.

You’re winded again. “Whoa, someone ate too much shrimp at the wedding.”

Steve suppresses a chuckle, taking you in. You had some type of glow he’d never noticed before.

“So…” He begins.

“So…”

“About last night,” he starts but you cut him off.

“We don’t need to talk about it, you know if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” He murmurs into your chest. He hugs your body, his head resting on your chest the same way Mickey would do it.

Damn it, you actually liked this.

“Great sex.” You blurt, shutting your eyes in disbelief at how awkward he suddenly made you.

His dimples peeked out as he felt himself chuckling. “Yeah, great sex.”

“I’m sorry,” you jittered. “I’m never usually like this.”

“Oh, I know. But it’s okay. I had fun.”

You haven’t felt this excited for something to potentially happen since you met Danny. But even now you were hopeful.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to go with you to your dad’s wedding?”

He must’ve remembered he had to answer that best man question because he’s unmoving.

How bad can it be? He thinks. Now that I have you.

“Yes please.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #joe keery x reader

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homemadepastasauce · 3 years

Text

A Wild Night

Genre: Smut and hot trash

Pairing: Female Reader X Doyoung, Jimin, Jackson, And Mark

Warning: Not something my mom and I are proud of, Y/N as usual has their legs open 24/7

Alternate Title: Girl goes to party and fricks guys she's barely on a first name basis with.

Author's Note: My first ff! If I made any mistakes no I didn't. If you got any request, request them, I write for anime and kpop ( don't take my account seriously though).

Disclaimer: Y/N doesn't rights, and I feel as the president of the Y/N Sucks Hate Club it's my duty to do this. Also, don't do drugs.

Ok, let me set the scene. You were the guest to one of the biggest party in all of LA, and boy were you excited. You may or may not have slept your way in with the bouncer, but that's a story for a different time. So, you get into the club and the music, weed, and vodka hit. You love that smell. It's powerful. You look around and see unhealthy of amount of hotties. This was your dream come true. First things first you hit the dance floor with a load of people touching up on each other. The DJ dude was crazy too, he was playing all of your favorite tunes. Vibes, absolute vibes.

For like thirty minutes you were busting your moves, like a complete dance machine. You were lost in space, but then you felt two strong arms grab onto your hips from behind.

The stranger whispered in your ear, his breath smelling of slight booze, "You have got to be the most good looking stranger I've seen in a long time." This statement filled your raging ego with pride, it brought a smirk to your face.

"So what website did you get that one from?"

He chuckled, "So, that's how your gonna act, huh? I can't say I don't like it. I'm Doyoung."

"Y/N"

"Say, would care to have a drink with me, Y/N?"

"Sure, but you better not waste my time with this small talk."

"Oh, I promise there won't be a lot of talking when I'm through with you," he grabs your hand and walks you over to the bar.

"Hey, bartender, let me get two shots of Grey Goose with a couple squeezes of lime," you say with a big smile.

"How'd you know I like vodka and why lime?"

"Lucky guess, and lime gives a little kick to it," you replied.

Actually if you were being honestly, it wasn't a lucky guess, you always ordered that. He's just easily impressed. You could tell in no time this guy would be banging your brains out. Drinks are easy baits to get what you want, everyone always seems to fall for it.

💫⭐Quick starter recipe for success by Y/N, an established piece of trash⭐💫

Regular vodka = boring and basic (you didn't even try, easily forgettable)

Vodka with a lil spice to it = a squeeze of lemon? lime? orange? (heck even a slash of henny is a positive plus plus)

"So what do you want and hope to achieve out of this, Y/N?" The bartender sets down your glasses and walks away.

"I don't know. You were the one that came up to me, I'm just going with the flow." You were messing with him, of course, both of you only wanted one thing and one thing alone.

"You're a strange person Y/N," he leaned in close to your ear, "but I know what you want."

You chugged the spicy shot down your throat, "I don't know what you're talking about. If I wanted something from you, I wouldn't said, "I want something from you."

You took out the eight dollars from your purse and set them down on the counter. Doyoung looked confused, almost like he wanted to say something but didn't. You got up from the barstool and made your way to the back bathroom, much quieter than the bar or dance floor. But before you could close the door, Doyoung snapped out of his trans and walked towards you.

"Hey!" He held the door with a strong grip, "You can't just leave, I wasn't done with you." Hmm, you weren't done with him either. You smiled knowing you already had him wrapped around your little finger.

"You're an idiot."

"I'm a what?"

"An idiot," you said confidently, "Get inside and lock the door." He did as he was told, no questions asked with an annoyed look on his face. And at that moment you knew he was about to rearrange your guts.

He started to unbuckle his belt, "You know when I first spoke to you, you seemed interesting enough, but you're just like the rest." The rest? Huh? Anyway, his words didn't faze you, it was the big mount in his unbuckled pants that did. You placed your purse to the side and sat on the sink counter. He does nothing but stare at your body as you slowly take your undies off and throw them on the dirty bathroom floor. Nasty.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you going get to work before I do," you threaten. He smiles at your bluff and comes close to your face with a sinful look.

"You want this, huh? Know that I'm leaving as soon as I finish."

Ok? Are you supposed to be sad?

He takes his at LEAST nine incher inside you and starts to go ham. No warm-up, no tease. Nope, just right inside.

"You have quite an ego for someone this dry," he teases. His words enraged you, like how dare he say such a crude thing to a whore like you? But for some reason, it just made you even wetter.

Maybe because he looked so scrumptious? Or maybe you couldn't hear it due to all the moans you were letting out? But dear holy moly he was making you feel so good. He was using his fingers on your grandma-looking nub and pounding into you Micheal Jackson style. Holy crap it felt amazing, not the best you've had, but amazing nonetheless.

"Mmmmh," he moaned, "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

And before he could say another word, he came inside.

Doyoung cleaned himself up, zipped his pants, and left. Leaving you a complete mess that didn't even get to finish. It was fun while it lasted you had to say. But what a selfish prick, he was hot too. You cleaned up his and yours mess, and put back on the underwear you threw onto the dirty public restroom floor. Yeah, you weren't the smartest book on the shelf.

How’d he do, though? He was definitely good, but not spectacular and a little stiff. Your rating? 7/10.

After your little "bathroom break" with Doyoung, you decided you wanted to have something... not Doyoung. You walk up to the second floor filled with stoners, and people who clearly wanted to jump off a cliff. No problem though, stoners were chill and you could pretty much go up to them and ask if they wanted you to swallow their kids, so that you did. There was a guy smoking the devil’s lettuce, lounging on the couch with two others waiting their turn. Hot dang they looked yummy.

“So what are you boys up to?” You say with a smile.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The boy on the middle said with aggression, “We're blowing one up.”

“Chill Jimin, she's just trying to make conversation,” he said passing it on to him. He rolled his eyes and started to smok in silence.

The one on the left looked up at you and said, “So which one of us do you want?”

“How do you know I want only one, what if I want all three of you?”

“Like at a time?”

The guy in the left began to speak again with smoke coming out of his mouth, “No dumbass, look at her, she wants all three filled. Clearly.” He winked. He was just gorgeous, ready for an adventure.

“Jimin, was it?”

“Don’t be so condescending, Jackson said my name not even two minutes ago, don’t get smart with me.”

“Jimin, enough, pass it on to Mark and be nice while you’re at it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

You rolled your eyes and pointed to a secluded corner out of public view you’ve been eyeing since you came to the floor, “See over there is where you guys are gonna meet me if you wanna have a good time. If not, you’re gonna take the biggest L of the night.”

The guy on the left got up and pasted it back on to the one in middle, aka, Jimin. He scoffed, “Seriously Mark?”

“Ah, yeah, this is a once in a lifetime thing.”

“True that,” the other got up made his way to the corner, following you.

“How are you guys are being so careless right now?! She probably has like five STDs... and three STIs, and... probably a kidney stone, too!”

You could hear him, but payed no mind. It’s not your fault his friends had good taste, even if there's a ninety eight percent chance they'd get chlamydia.

You got on your knees and started to feel up on their pants. You could feel them getting hard as you unzipped both of their pants. Chile, they were packing full on heat. You started to lick and slurp them up, using your hands, too. There moans made you want to have their babies. Not literally, you weren't that crazy, but figuratively.

“Keep going.”

“Yeah, don’t stop until I say so.”

You did what they asked like a pro, but before you could deepthroat one of those precious horse pps, you feel someone separate your legs and roam there only source of pride straight into your rectum. In and out. In and out. Gosh darn it felt good. You're not stopping. One of them go into the your vag and the other says in your mouth.

“FDUR, I’m close keep going!!!!”

Already? I mean all of you were close but still.

And not even a half a second you felt three liters of pancake mix fill up your holes. Mhmm, now that’s a job done right. They pulled out and left you right there, not even caring to look back. But it was fine cause you got what you wanted in the end. 10/10

What a night, huh?

#kpop edits #kpop #bts fanfic #kpop smut #bts layouts #bts jimn #jimin x reader #nct 127 #got7 fanfic #kpop angst #doyoung #kpop aesthetic #kpop imagines #kpop senarios #kpop headcanons #bts angst #nct smut

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kitchenangst · 4 years

Text

Before Anything Good pt. 2

Mako x reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Barely one month of living on the streets, and Mako has grown skeptical of anything good that’s offered freely to him. When the girl from the other side of town calls him stinky and demands he take a shower, he might just be right about his newfound cynicism.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: brief implied abusive relationship, language, dialogue heavy, Bolin being comedy relief, this is literally just filler goofiness lol

A/N: New game, drink water every time anyone is called stinky hehe I was going to update this on the weekend but got too excited! also can we get an F for my keyboard pls it doesn’t want to cooperate anymore,, anyway pls let me know if there are any errors!

part i | part iii

After exchanging transactions and names, the three sat on a bench outside with a hefty bag of baked goods. Bolin bounced in his seat as he patiently waited for the girl, who introduced herself as Yn, to pass him his bread before eating her own. She reached into the bag with the napkin, making sure to hand over one of the bigger pieces. Grabbing at it with greedy hands and an appetite to match, he immediately scarfed down the brioche, but not before he said his thanks. He sighed in delight as the fluffiness of it melted on his tongue. “So good!!”

Mako found himself smiling at Bolin’s infectious grin. “S’that so? Want a bite of mine?” He angled his spongy bread towards the younger one, who happily chomped on it. He returned his gaze forward as he continued to chew on his bread, the treat staving off some of the hunger.

Yn giggled at the interaction, wanting to join the fun, and tugged on Mako’s sleeve. “Want a bite of mine?” Before Mako had a chance to respond, she had already shoved her bread into his mouth once he had turned towards her. After breaking the piece off, she lectured, “You should eat more! These will go bad if you don’t finish them! It’ll be a waste.” She ignored Mako’s flushed face, assuming he just needed water, and passed him his cup.

Once he cleared his throat, Mako choked out, "Didn’t you ever consider the germs! You could be sick!”

“I’m not sick!” She cried defensively. “If I cared about your germs, I wouldn’t have offered you any of my bread!”

“Did you think that I might care about germs?!”

“I- Well, I-,” she immediately paused, her cheeks flushing as she looked down sheepishly, “-did not think about that. Sorry?” She looked back at him, the fear of losing her newly made friend reflecting in her expression.

“That’s okay! Mako’s just shy with girls,” Bolin helpfully announced. “Like when that one girl who lived across the street tried to offer some fruit and Mako just threw them-”

“You can eat the rest,” Mako blankly offers, the remaining bread shoved in Bolin’s mouth. At Yn’s gaping mouth, Mako grabs the wrist holding her bread before guiding the food into her mouth. “You should, too.” A playful grin itches the corners of his mouth as he tries to keep a straight face. "It's not good to waste your food." He reaches into the bag to grab a different type of bread as if nothing happened and proceeds to chew on it.

“Thaz nawht neigs!”

At her muffled yelling, Mako’s eyes glint playfully. “What’s that? I smell really good?” She shoved him away the moment he tried to lean closer to her.

Once she swallowed, she reprimanded Mako’s behavior, claiming it’s not good to interrupt people talking.

Mako shrugged, leaning against the wall. “Not really. When you have a brother, it’s okay to be mean.”

Her eyes narrowed, taking in his words. “Then, what about a sister? Would you be mean to her too?”

He takes a moment to ponder. It was nice forgetting that he was an orphan and just enjoying food in the company of another. But he thinks back to the days he'd chase Bolin around the house and wonders if he'd also chase Yn around if she'd been there. After all, a friend wouldn't be too different from a sibling, right?

“I think it’d be okay to be mean to them, too.” Yn’s head nodded approvingly at the answer, humming appreciatively that there was no special treatment between siblings. “Not sure, though. I never really thought about it until now.”

“What about you, Yn? Do you have a brother or sister?” Bolin chimed in, now on his second bread.

“None! But I’d like a sister or brother sometime! I think it’s neat to have a friend like that around all the time.”

“Yeah, you can think of it like that. Or it’s someone annoying you all the time.” With another shrug, Mako pops the rest of the bread in his mouth and dusts the crumbs off his hands.

Bolin clears his throat, climbs onto his knees, and holds Mako by the shoulders to steady himself before burping in his face. The immediate cringe his brother wears is enough to satisfy him, a triumphant grin settling on his face. “Or someone you can annoy all the time!”

Yn’s bark of laughter suddenly ends when suddenly the same cringe on Mako embraces her face. “Oh, you two are really stink-” but the other two don’t hear her finish her sentence as someone shouts her name over the stomping of ostrich horses in front of them.

The lady towering over Yn from her seat inside the carriage looks frustrated, worried, and tired all at once. She hugs the girl the instant she exits the carriage, her eyes clenching softly in relief before she reopens them to look her form over. Making sure there aren’t any visible signs of dirt or scratches, she sighs. “Sweetie, why did you leave my side? You’re lucky I found you before anything happened!”

Yn puffs her chest and sits up straighter. The moment the word “mother” had left her mouth, Mako suddenly felt like he shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have gone for the bread, should be leaving, should be running. He stiffens when he makes eye contact with her mom, her eyes scanning their tattered clothes and thin coating of dust, settling on the scarf wrapped around Mako's neck with some form of recognition and pity. The pity. This was the exact moment he hated experiencing when parents realized their kids were around them, the orphans. Mako makes an effort to hold back a scoff, suddenly remembering how it wasn’t proper social etiquette to be rude to those related to the one who have shown you kindness.

“Mako, can we?” He turns to see Bolin holding his hands together in plea and lips pouting.

"Uh..." Shit, he was not listening. "I don't know, Bo…"

“Please, I insist. Any friend of Yn is welcome to have dinner with us anytime.” The look in her eyes was hesitant compared to the shakey upward turn of her mouth. “I won’t make two orphans pay, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Although they were the same words spoken to him earlier that day, they didn’t feel as sweet coming from the lady than it did from her daughter. Why did she have to mention they were orphans? Did she know them? their parents? the culprit?

“Mako,” Bolin whispers. Tugging his sleeve close enough so that the other two wouldn’t hear, he continues whispering. “House. Stuff. Steal?” Mako’s face remained neutral, but Bolin’s idea did strike a chord… Maybe they had a collection? They wouldn’t notice a thing or two from it missing… Mako assumed position by crossing his arms and making an indecisive face, hand resting on his chin to pronounce the effect. “It’s free dinner! Just this once, please?” With his acting turned up by a notch, Bolin slings himself onto Mako’s shoulders with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.

“Well… I could never say no to free food,” Mako returns stiffly. Gee, why couldn’t they just be natural. Even Bolin’s pout turned into a grimace.

“Then let’s go now!” With no time for them to worry about how bad their acting was, the two of them were suddenly seated in the carriage on the opposite side from Yn and her mom. Yn bounced in her seat and swung her legs, her head tilting from side to side as if she was picking and choosing from a jar of questions to ask them, but only held back because of her mother being in the same space.

The brothers shifted their eyes around the cart, not wanting to make eye contact at her mom, but not quite wanting to look at Yn either. Instead, Mako fiddled with the ends of his scarf while Bolin asked for another piece of bread. Smart, at least he wouldn’t be asked to talk if he was eating.

“Mother?” Yn’s tongue poked against the inside of her cheek, hesitant on whether she should ask something or not. At her mother’s inquiry, she continued, “Is this what kidnapping looks like?”

Everyone turned to the sound of Bolin’s choking, who could barely hold the bottle of water being handed to him by Yn’s mother while Mako slapped his back harshly until he calmed down. “K-ki-kid- you’re kidnapping us?” He stared at the water and bread questionably. “Are these poisoned?! Am I going to… going to… melt… from the inside?” The tears in the corner of his widened eyes began to roll down at the thought of a painful death and he turned to Mako, barely comprehensible. “I told you! We shou-shouldn’t have come!”

“You’re the one who wanted to go!”

“You’re the one who let us go!” Great. Now he was sobbing.

Exasperated, Mako groans. “Fine! If it makes you feel better-” he takes a large swig from the same bottle Bolin drank from earlier, “-now we’ll both melt from the inside!” Once Bolin’s sobs calmed down, he quickly added, “Better?” Bolin’s nod of approval stopped at the sound of Yn’s laughter on the other side, her mom simply covering her mouth with a little twinkle in her eyes.

“I wanna melt from the inside, too!” Yn plucked the bottle from Mako’s hands before chugging the rest, saying something about how poisoned water tasted better than regular water.

“You’re free to leave anytime after dinner, by the way. We’ll even arrange a carriage to take you back,” Yn’s mother offered.

Mako nodded slowly, the look in her eyes now seeming more genuine than it had outside the carriage. “Thank you. We’d really like that.”

The rocking of the carriage and the stomping of the ostrich horses filled the silence afterwards. With nothing to do and the presence of her mother making her hold her tongue, Yn studied the two brothers’ features. She wasn’t sure of what the definition of pretty for boys was, but she was sure these two were it.

Bolin was on the cuter side with his stubby nose helping his thick eyebrows emphasize his expressions, chubby cheeks filling like chimp-monkeys, and bright emerald eyes practically glowing as if untouched. Mako, on the other hand, had a more slender nose, the arch of his eyebrows curving naturally just before abruptly being pulled up to a mountain peak and dragging downwards on the thicker end, his cheeks close to hollowing out from lack of food, and golden eyes tinted and narrowed in suspicion every now and then. The apples of both their cheeks an angry pink and peeling from being sunburnt, paling in comparison to the deep red and soft cotton of Mako’s scarf.

That couldn't have felt nice if they just left it alone… She sighed and started folding the empty bag of bread, wondering if her mother had any mud masks she could spare at home.

“And that’s how you turn off the sink!” Yn finished her explanation to the boys with a proud face, the bathroom lights adding just another bright layer to her eyes.

“We know how to use the bathroom...”

“Then get to brushing your teeth! Your breath-”

“Stinks. We know.”

Yn’s grin widens at Mako’s admittance, skipping out of the bathroom to help her mom prep for dinner. The dinner prep was simple since neither brothers had any special dietary needs or restrictions. The sound of the door unlocking was enough to stop her from turning on the stove to cook the chopped ingredients. Running to the door, she greeted her father with a slight bow and offered to take his coat and hat back to his room.

Just as she exited her father’s room, she heard her name from Mako’s distressed call. “Can you get us towels? And some clothes?” His head was sticking out from the door and his damp hair clung to the sides of his face as he looked around frantically.

“Oh! Sorry, how could I forget? Just wait a bit!” She’s about to turn the corner into the kitchen to ask her mother about the washed clothes, stopping when she hears the hushed whispers that could only belong to her parents.

“No, those two kids! They’re San and Naoki’s kids!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Spirits, woman, do I have to spell everything for you? Did you see the damage of their house? They must have gotten some money from selling stuff. Money that they’re hiding.”

“They’re just kids. When are you going to stop pulling this stunt?”

“I’ll stop when I stop. Now, where have you been seeing them hang around?”

A heavy air of silence hangs around the area, and Yn nearly looks around the wall before her eyes widened at the familiar sound of a harsh clap thundering off the walls of the kitchen. Her hands flew to cover her mouth to repress her gasp. With shaky steps, she was barely able to turn around without tripping on her feet, the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and blocking off the rest of their conversation as she made her way back to the bathroom.

A/n: I did not need 1.7k words before getting to this point in the story but I couldn’t help it LOL this part was split once again :”) also some pieces of dialogue are based on conversations in real life and I thought it fitted the three of them nicely as kids! kinda surprised myself this chapter because i always cringe at what i write but this was kinda cute lol Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!

part i | part iii

Taglist! (if you’d like to be tagged, pls DM me or send in an ask!)

@welovediaaxx

#source: lok art of the animated series #lok #legend of korra #lok x reader #mako x reader #mako #mako imagine #lok imagine #BAG #yall gonna HATE me the next few updates #did i really use this chapter to describe mako's jetbrows......yes...#mako: not me side eyeing my brother

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brighterthanghosts · 3 years

Text

By Your Side

Word count: 3,474

Pairing: Taishiro

Read below the cut or here on ao3.

Summary: “Taichi-san, you spent years telling me to believe in myself. Either you would beat a dead horse or I’d finally conquer my insecurities. Personally, I’m glad it was the latter.”

Five times Koushiro and Taichi were being good to each other from childhood to adulthood. Rated T for zombie gorillas and Taichi's foul mouth.

5&6

“Taichi, be careful!” his mom called out. But Taichi had already taken off toward the monkey bars, leaving a trail through the pebbles that separated the swings from the jungle gym. The jungle gym was attached to a large fort-style playground set that was often the backdrop for Taichi’s adventures — today, he needed to escape a rampage of zombie gorillas, and the only way was to make it through the forest Tarzan-style.

He wasn’t tall enough to reach the monkey bars on his own, but he had learned that the big dome on the opening of the slide was the perfect height. He stuck his shoe between the slide and plastic log fort, balancing on the large bolt that held the slide in place. Hoisting himself up and over the edge of the dome. The monkey bars were about two feet away to the right, and all he’d need to do was jump. He better get going, too, because the zombie gorillas were headed this way.

Taking one look behind him, Taichi stood, like a hero in his own movie, and prepared himself. He only had one chance to do this. If he didn’t make it, the zombies would eat his brain and spread the zombie virus to the human race. Taichi couldn’t let that happen. With one breath and a battle cry, Taichi lept from the top of the slide, arm fully extended out to grasp at the monkey bars. He was going to make it. He knew it. Almost there.

His fingertips brushed the underside of one bar, and he recognized his mistake. The zombies won.

Crashing to the ground snapped Taichi from his fantasy. He’d landed on his hands and knees, now bruised and scraped, and he could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he sat on his butt and assessed the damage.

“Are you okay?”

Taichi looked up into deep, dark eyes that were filled with concern and a tinge of something else.

“Y-yeah. I just —” Taichi said, turning his palms outward and gesturing to the little red-haired boy, who was kneeling beside him.

“That looks like it hurts,” the boy said, reaching out to hold Taichi’s left wrist, turning his hand this way and that. “But you looked so cool! Like Super Sentai!” The boy looked up at him, then, wide-eyed and a smile full of admiration.

“Oh!” he said, like he’d forgotten something. He looked back to Taichi’s palm and pressed a small kiss right in the center. “My okaa-san said it helps the healing.”

“Th-thanks,” Taichi said, feeling his face heat up.

“Koushiro! It’s time to go home!” a woman yelled somewhere off to the left of where the two boys sat.

“Ah, that’s my okaa-san!” the boy said, scrambling to his feet. He bowed, then smiled and with a wave said, “I have to go now! I hope you feel better soon!”

Taichi sat there, watching the boy’s back become smaller as he ran toward his mom.

“Taichi?” his own mother called.

He looked back over his right shoulder.

“Oh, Taichi! Are you okay? Are you hurt?” his mother asked.

Taichi shook his head, looking back at his hand. “No, mom, I’m okay. I’ll be better in no time.”

9&10

“Koushiro! Pass!” He heard someone yell, but he was too overwhelmed by the two bodies blocking him. Koushiro was running toward the soccer net as quickly as his little legs would carry him. The two children to his right and left stood a whole head taller than him. He could hardly see as it was; his hair was sticking flat to his forehead, sweat beading down in tiny rivers that pooled in his eyes.

“Pass it!”

He saw a mass of hair whirlwind behind the kid to his right, and Koushiro prayed it was his teammate. He quickly stepped to the left, pulled his right leg back, and kicked the ball. He made contact, he was sure, but his feet got tangled somewhere along the way and he planted face-first into the pitch.

“Go, go, go, go!”

Koushiro lifted himself up just in time to see Taichi straight-kick the ball right past the goalie and into the net. He looked like a pro, with the sunset as his backdrop. Koushiro would bet his life that Taichi would one day be the best soccer player in Japan — better than even Kamamoto Kunishige. With a little more than 30 seconds to go before half time, Koushiro got to his feet and started trekking back to the bench. His chin hurt, and he could use a towel and some water.

“Oi, Koushiro!” Taichi was jogging his way, dimples framing his warm smile. “Hey man, great pass!”

“Ah, n-no, it was all you,” Koushiro said, looking at the ground. Peeking up at his teammate, he added, “You were amazing out there, Taichi-san.”

“No way! We never would have scored had you not ran the ball down the pitch,” Taichi said, reaching a hand out to ruffle Koushiro’s hair. “Honestly, you were awesome!”

Koushiro looked down again, his face suddenly warm. “Th-thank you, Taichi-san. That makes me very happy.”

Taichi slung an arm over Koushiro’s shoulders, pulling him into Taichi’s side. “C’mon, let’s get a bandaid for your chin. You’re going to look so cool. Coach said girls like battle scars.”

Koushiro heard what Taichi said, but his brain stopped working sometime around the word cool. Taichi thought he would look cool. And suddenly, Koushiro wanted nothing more.

11&12

It had been one year exactly since their adventure to the digital world, and Taichi was feeling a little nostalgic. School had been well enough, and Taichi kept himself busy with soccer and video games for most of the summer. Had it been a Saturday, Taichi wouldn’t have felt bad about spending the morning in bed. But it wasn’t Saturday, it was Tuesday, and his mom was expecting him to be alive by the time she got home.

Taichi rolled himself toward the edge of his bed, slowly extending a leg and an arm so he could lower himself to the floor. He lay like that for a while. He’s not really sure how long, but he heard footsteps in the hall and gentle knocking on the door — he must have dozed off again. At least he was out of bed.

“Onii-chan? I’m heading out now.” A pause, then, “Onii-chan?”

“Have fun,” Taichi called out to his sister. Hikari had adjusted to life without their digimon much better than he had, and he didn’t want to bring her mood down like that.

“Okay. Why don’t you invite someone over? Have some fun yourself!” Hikari was trying to encourage him, and honestly, Taichi doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He can hear her footsteps retreating. Shortly after, he hears the door open and close. Taichi is officially alone.

Taichi stared at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the popcorn texture and thinking about the first time he met Koromon. The first time he evolved. The first time he understood the power of his courage. “Hey, that kind of looks like Ikakumon,” Taichi chuckles to himself. He’s probably imagining it. He could almost hear Koushiro telling him about how our brains are formidable and capable of filling in the gaps and playing tricks on us. He smiled and rolled onto his stomach, let out a groan, and picked himself off the ground.

***

Koushiro answered the phone after three rings. Taichi wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt nervous, like he was troubling the other boy or something. It was Koushiro. Koushiro, who showed up randomly at Taichi’s home just a couple months ago and helped his mom bake a cake. This is fine.

“Uh, Taichi-san?”

“Come over.” Taichi said, mentally smacking himself for being so blunt. “Please?” He adds before Koushiro can respond.

“Okay, Taichi-san. I’ll be there shortly.” And it sounded like Koushiro was smiling.

When he said shortly, he wasn’t kidding. It was maybe 25 minutes later when Taichi heard knocking at the door. They’d spent the last hour eating snacks and playing Mortal Kombat, and Taichi was becoming increasingly more irritated for the following two reasons: 1) Koushiro had gone through six glasses of Oolong tea and had already taken two bathroom breaks and 2) despite this, Koushiro was still kicking his ass. They were 12-3 with Koushiro in the lead, and Taichi had already decided that Koushiro was clearly cheating. To prove his point, Taichi had the boy pinned to the floor in a bout of tickle tortue.

“I’m not cheating, Taichi-san!” Koushiro said through giggles, accidentally kneeing Taichi in the stomach.

“Well, if you’re not a cheater, then you’re a magician, and that’s still cheating!” Taichi replied, poking his fingers into Koushiro’s sides.

“Me cheating is about as possible as Agumon being a real dinosaur!” Koushiro laughed. And suddenly, he wasn’t laughing.

“Taichi-san?”

Taichi’s face felt hot and wet, but he doesn’t remember how it got that way. Koushiro was looking up at him, concerned and a little scared. He didn’t want to look weak in front of his friend. He felt so weak.

“Taichi-san,” Koushiro said, softer, and Taichi lowered his head to rest on the boy’s shoulder, hiding his hurt in this pocket of trust. He felt a hand on his back as a sob wracked up his spine and out his throat. “It’s okay, Taichi-san. I miss them, too.”

17&18

“Who does Yamato think he is? Saying that kind of thing all cool and nonchalant. He should have known that Sora wouldn’t take it well. Oi, Koushiro, are you listening to me?”

He wasn’t. His heart was in his ears as he stared at his phone.

“Yo.”

He’d never felt so many emotions at once. But this really shouldn’t have surprised him.

“Koushiro. What’s so damn interesting that you can’t put your phone down?”

His phone was pulled right from his hands, and he did nothing to stop it.

“Oh.”

He’d laugh, but he wasn’t sure it would sound much like a laugh at all.

“Oh, Koushiro. Hey, man. That —”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Koushiro mumbles out. His voice is low, breathy, almost inaudible, and it sounds foreign to his own ears.

“No, it’s not. Dude, like, she could have at least said something.”

Except, she didn’t need to. Mimi returned to America shortly after Christmas, following their final battle with Ordinemon. Koushiro had never worked up the courage to properly confess his feelings, and Mimi didn’t owe him any kind of explanation for the photo she uploaded to her social media, captioned “So thankful to be in love with this guy.” She was kissing him on the cheek. They looked happy.

“She looks happy. I’m happy for her.”

And he was. Truly.

“That doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter!”

“Taichi-san, really. It’s fine.”

“Clearly it isn’t.”

A hand cupped his cheek, thumb swiping just under his eye. Taichi is looking at him like he’s proving a point.

“We wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“Why not?”

He could hear tints of frustration in Taichi’s voice. He flinched a little at the words; that tone was usually reserved for Yamato. Koushiro decided to choose his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to lose Mimi and Taichi in one sitting.

“Ah, I, um — I don’t think I’m bold enough to stand at Mimi-san’s side.”

“That’s bullshit.”

He flinched again.

“Do you ever say nice things about yourself? Don’t you see how amazing you already are?”

Koushiro looked up, meeting Taichi’s eyes for the first time since he’d unlocked his phone.

“Amazing?”

“Duh. Koushiro, you’re like the most incredible person I know.”

But Koushiro didn’t really believe him. Taichi was being nice because Taichi was a good person. Taichi was a good friend. Taichi was the amazing one. Tall and strong. Fearless. A natural leader — our leader.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you think I’m being ‘illogical.’ I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re amazing. You are literally the reason we weren’t all killed in the digital world. You have your own office. You were the one who figured out that Meicoomon had backups of our digimon’s memories. You’re creating portals for us to travel between worlds. Portals, Kou. You’re so fucking smart, I don’t even know where you come up with all your ideas. And you turn every idea into a reality. You might think that isn’t significant, but I do. Mimi is missing out. Everyone is missing out on—”

Kou. Koushiro has never been particularly spontaneous. He was usually calculated and found reasons to justify his actions. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Taichi and his kind words had pushed Koushiro to some kind of breaking point. The trust. The safety. The idea that someone thought so highly of him and this sudden need to protect it all. You’re amazing. He had subconsciously leaned forward toward his friend, as if their physical proximity could solidify this moment, like maybe Koushiro could really become one with all the lovely things Taichi was saying. He felt drunk on his heartbreak and sudden excitement. So fucking smart. Taichi’s words itched their way under his nails and made his fingers twitch. His blood was made of fire, his heart a bass drum, his brain alphabet soup — the letters spelling out ‘significant.’ This whole situation was illogical. Maybe Koushiro, too, was illogical.

Taichi didn’t move, didn’t push him away. Five seconds, their meeting lasted. Koushiro pulled away, the world crashing down on him as he realized what he’d done. He braved a peek at Taichi’s face — he looked different. Eyes glazed, looking past Koushiro. Mouth slightly open, jaw slacked. Koushiro took this moment to panic.

“T- ah, Taichi-san?”

“Huh?”

“Um.”

“Oh. Hey. I’m hungry. Want to grab a bite?”

“Uh?”

“I’ll treat today, so don’t worry.”

Taichi stood, grabbing his duffle bag and his wallet, looking back toward Koushiro, past him, again. His face said I need to get out of this room. Koushiro stood slowly, not making eye contact. He packed his laptop in his bag and decidedly ignored his phone, still unlocked and glowing with Mimi and her new boyfriend.

“I know I said I’ll treat, but I don’t have a lot of money. Are burgers okay?”

“Yes, that’s okay.”

“Cool.”

23&24

Taichi let out a yawn and scratched the back of head. He was thankful for this Friday evening, much welcomed after the long week. Taichi had been meeting regularly with Koushiro and his team to finalize their presentation on the digital world. They were finally making headway with the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly to get safety regulations passed to ensure secure travel to and from the digital world, which meant a foot in the door to (hopefully) his future boss and a potential research grant for Koushiro’s team.

Koushiro had texted him earlier in the day, suggesting dinner to celebrate their hard work. Taichi suggested pizza, Koushiro suggested Odaiba beach. Taichi was a bit surprised — it would be about an hour to get there from the city — but Odaiba did hold nearly all of their memories.

He smelled him before he saw him. Well, he smelled the pizza. Taichi turned to find Koushiro approaching his makeshift picnic space in the sand.

“Taichi-san!” Koushiro said, picking up speed.

“Hey,” Taichi responded smoothly. “You seem awfully excited. You didn’t miss me, did you?”

Koushiro let out a huff, but smiled anyway. “We worked hard this week! I added some finishing touches this afternoon and sent it to Nishi-san for proofreading. It should be ready to go early next week!”

Taichi wanted to say how appreciative he was, but his stomach rudely interrupted. Koushiro let out a laugh and handed over the pizza box.

They sat in silence for a while, making their way through their food and enjoying the breeze coming off the ocean. At some point, Koushiro had removed his socks and shoes and buried his feet in the sand. It had been a long time since either of them had been to the beach.

“You know, I thought about bringing Tentomon here to say goodbye.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I was trying to think of something special to do. But I was too busy with work to get down here in time.”

“I took Agumon to watch the ocean. What did you end up doing?”

“I locked my office door and hugged him as tightly as I could.”

“How did he take it?”

“He knew what was happening. It didn’t matter where we were as long as we could properly say goodbye. I think he was happy with that.”

“Do you think we could ever, you know, regain our bonds?”

“I’m not sure. But I hope that, if we obtain this grant, we can proceed to research the digital world for traces of their data. If I’m being honest, I’m not convinced that our digimon are gone.”

“Hearing that from you gives me a lot of hope.”

Koushiro doesn’t respond. Taichi looks at him then, and he looks serene. Relaxed. Hopeful. It’s rare for Koushiro to display his quiet confidence. But if anyone can figure it out, Taichi trusts that his friend will.

“Taichi-san?”

“Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

“Ah, sorry! It’s just. You look confident.”

“Oh,” Koushiro said, high-pitched in surprise. “Hm. I suppose I can thank you for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Taichi-san, you spent years telling me to believe in myself. Either you would beat a dead horse or I’d finally conquer my insecurities. Personally, I’m glad it was the latter.”

Koushiro looked back to the water, the air between them filled with something strange and familiar.

“Hey, Kou?”

“Hm?”

“Remember that time in high school when you kissed me?”

Koushiro sputters, face reddened like a radish bathed in sunset. “Why on Earth—”

“Why did you do it?”

“Um,” Koushiro drawls like he’s not sure how to answer. “Well.”

Taichi waits patiently, but he’s never been a particularly patient person.

“I don’t quite know, if I’m honest. I didn’t realize it was happening until it happened.”

“Hm.”

“Uhh. I remember being upset. And you made me feel better. My thoughts were blurry at that time. Ehh. I, um. I think I, maybe, I wanted to be the words you were saying?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mmm. You said I should see myself through your eyes. You ambushed me with compliment after compliment. And it took me by surprise because you were always someone I admired. I wanted to believe I was all the words you used to describe me. I wanted to believe I was worthy.”

“You are, though. I hope you believe that now.”

Koushiro isn’t looking at him, and Taichi doesn’t think he’s going to say anything else, so he continues.

“It’s the same, you know. For me.”

This caught the other boy’s attention, but Taichi cut off whatever Koushiro was going to say.

“I wanted to believe I was as cool as you thought I was,” Taichi said, huffing out a chuckle. “I wanted to stand by your side and be someone you could count on. I also wanted to believe I was worthy.”

“Do you? Believe, I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Silence lies between them, but it’s no longer heavy. Koushiro’s twitching slightly, gazing out toward the water, but Taichi can tell his mind is somewhere distant. He hopes Koushiro is thinking the same thing.

“Hey, Kou?”

“Yeah?” Koushiro breathes back at him.

“Can I kiss you?”

***************************************************

A/N

And that’s it. That’s the end.

This was a wild ride that all started with the concept of kisses to fix booboos — a trope I need.

Some minor notes:

-This is loosely based around Adventure, 02 and tri., but I chose to ignore the movies (ie: Children’s War Game).

-Super Sentai is what the US’ “Power Rangers” is based on.

-Kamamoto Kunishige is one of the most prolific soccer players from Japan and is the all-time goal scorer in his country. He played for Japan’s national team throughout the ‘60s and ‘70s, and it’s my headcanon that Koushiro only knows his name because Taichi doesn’t shut up about him.

-I know Taichi works with the UN in the epilogue, but I wanted him to be just a couple years out of college here, so I filled in the gaps. Because Koushiro has already made a name for himself in the tech world (and with the knowledge that his work involves researching the digital world later), I thought it would be interesting for them to work together with common goals. That said, I have no idea what Taichi’s career path would look like, so bear with me.

#taishirou #taishiro #taichi x koushiro #taikou #honestly just taichi and koushiro being really good to each other #Odd references bc digimon takes place in the 90s and 00s #I'm assuming they have myspace accounts lol #digimon #fanfiction

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journeymanwithpen · 3 years

Text

The first memory

— Happy birthday, — she sings. — What would you like to do today?

— Thank you, Love! — They kiss.

— I don't want anything special, — he says — It's a day like any other.

— It's not, — she insists. — It's your birthday. And because of that, it's special!

— I think we humans are drunk on our own sense of self-importance, — he says. — We like to mark everything, but in fact all we celebrate is ourselves. It's quite pathetic, actually. Birthday is an anniversary of someone's coming to being. It's a folly celebrating that I existed. Now, if I knew exactly how long I have on this Earth, that'd be a completely different story, then I’d celebrate how long I have left. As it is, we all burn our wick, but none of us know exactly how long the wick is. We have our little birthday celebrations to mark how much of it we burned. Let’s celebrate any other day, a good day spent with you, for example.

She watches him, smiling silently. — Tell me about yourself, — she says.

— What's to tell, you know everything, — he says.

— I want to know who you were before me.

— Ah, — he sighs — you want a story.

— Always.

She nestles on his chest and pulls his arm around her shoulders.

— I already told you all I can remember, — he says. — My recollection is fuzzy, I can't separate what really happened from what I wished to happen.

— That's alright with me. That's why we call them 'stories'.

---

What's your first real memory? Not the story about yourself told by the parents or relatives? Nor the moments frozen in old photographs from the time before memories? The first thing you were aware of as a kid?

Mine is of a summer before I started school. A clear, warm sunny day. It must have been warm because I remember wearing shorts and a short sleeved shirt. I was riding a bike, the small green one my dad brought from Italy for my birthday. Everybody else had a "pony" - a locally made bicycle with low, U-shaped frame which folded in the middle and had horn-shaped handlebar. My Italian bike was special, if for nothing else, then for not being a pony. The model was Julia, proclaimed in stylish bold letters along its metallic-green frame. Even its name sounded better, I thought. It was smaller than a pony, true, but also lighter. It had the horizontal bar from the seat to the handlebar. It also had a slightly better chain and pedals size, which made it speedier. I liked to ride it fast, although for 6-and-a-half-year-old everything faster than walk seemed fast. That day Pop, my best friend, and I rode around the building where we lived, an ugly 5-story rectangle with four entrances and a facade made of corrugated tin panels. He had his old, slightly rusty blue pony. Pop was half a head shorter than me and even though I wasn't much more than sinews and bones back then, I was the larger of the two. Naturally, that meant I was stronger and faster too. When we tired of chasing each other in the same old circle, we ventured on the parking stretching to the side of our building. It was out of sight of our parents who occasionally glanced through the windows to check on us, and therefore forbidden.

Pop lagged behind, showing off in front of the girls from our building who liked to congregate at the parents' blind spot too. I could tell he was trying to catch some girl's eyes by the way he constantly blew up a light brown fringe of hair that always hang over his forehead. I sped up and made a swift turn at the end of the parking, then pushed the pedals hard heading back. Dean rode his pony in the middle of the parking coming toward me. Dean was a boy from the building across from ours, two years older than me, a tall, skinny kid with thick-rimmed glasses. He looked down at his pedals and rode straight at me. I moved all the way to the curb to avoid him, moving fast. When he finally looked up, he jerked his bike, handlebar wobbling toward the curb right into my path. We collided in a tangle of limbs, bicycle frames and wheels. I fell on the curb. It was a pretty high one, built that way to keep the cars from parking on the grass. The rest of us - Dean and both bicycles - fell on top of me. If you ever had a naughty spill, you may remember that the first moment after it happens everything is kinda hazy. The sound is muffled and the picture is out of focus.

I was dazed from the collision. Dean quickly jumped on his feet and pulled the bikes off me. I remember pulling my legs under me to try and stand up. And I remember the pain like I never felt before, nor after. I screamed.

Dean's glasses were askew. He was panicked by my howling. I don't remember if he said anything, my brain was a fireball of pain and my lungs and throat were working independently of it, creating a wail in decibels that could cause hearing loss. I remember Dean's forearms hooking in my armpits from behind, trying to help me on my feet. But, it couldn't work,because my right thigh developed an extra joint. It was bending in a weird angle right in the middle where it shouldn't have bent.

A woman who lived in the ground floor apartment under whose windows we crashed appeared in a rush. She shooed Dean away and took me in her arms. My legs hung over her arms, the left one bent in the knee, the right in the new joint in my thigh. She carried me toward the neighborhood clinic which was only a couple hundred yards away in another building. Her every step caused agony of molten lava shoot through my thigh. Days later, Pop told me what was happening outside my fiery bubble of pain: the woman shouted at the kids to call my parents. Pop rushed to our apartment and told my mother what happened.

In the clinic the woman put me on the bed. The nurse in charge called the ambulance. With my legs laid unmoving on the bed the excruciating pain subsided slightly, giving me a respite to catch my breath and whimper down from full-out screaming to sniveling. That was until the nurse had a strike of genius and decided to tie my legs together. As soon as she pulled my broken leg to align the knees together so she can wrap a bandage around them, my world exploded with pain all anew. By the time the ambulance arrived, although I was later told it was only minutes, I was so drained and afraid of more pain, I didn't want to move. But, move I did. Or, rather, moved I was - onto a stretcher and into the ambulance car where I tearfully pleaded with the driver to watch for the potholes because each one he hit felt like a hammer slamming into my broken femur.

In the hospital I was promptly taken to X-ray, then into the surgery. My part of the drama was almost over, at least the most painful part. A man in scrubs told me they have to make me sleep. He asked in kind, soft voice, would I prefer the needle or the mask. I haven't quite grasped what he meant by "mask," so I said needle. He turned to a small tray next to the bed and took what looked to me as an enormous needle, like the ones they used on horses. I called him in trembling voice and said I'd rather have a mask, whatever that was. He smiled kindly, put a rubber cup with some kind of hose attached to it over my nose and mouth and told me to count slowly to ten. I don't remember how far I managed, but it wasn't to ten.

In the meantime a parallel drama was happening outside the surgery. Mother was pulling connections, people she knew. There was a female surgeon from her hometown who owed a favor to grandparents. Mom called her on it. They discussed the available options - the usual procedure called for a surgery to insert a metal plate that'll screw together the broken parts of my femur. That was going to leave a long, ugly scar along the side of my thigh.

— There's another thing we can try, — dr. Metzger told mother — but it's risky and you'll have to take the responsibility for the outcome.

— What's that? — mother asked.

— It's a clean break, the bone didn't fragment and there are no visible damage to the muscle tissue. We can try to set the bone under the X-ray and plaster him in a really long cast.

— Okay, — mom said — what are the risks?

— The risk is that the bone can move after we set it. The first two-three weeks he should be completely immobile in bed. And we won't know the result until then.

— But there'd be no scar? — mother asked.

— No scar, and no cutting. Just a very long cast from his chest to the toes of his right leg, — dr. Metzger said. — But, you have to decide right now, because he's already put to sleep.

— Okay, — mother said after short pause — do it. Please!

---

I woke up in the cast. As promised, it wound around my torso starting under the ribs and entubed the right leg. The only opening was for the toes. I was held in its grip for the two summer months. It came off in the early days of September, just in time for the first day of school. The first week of the school I walked on crutches. It made me special, I guess. But, that's another memory, for another story.

#amwriting #creative writing #fiction #short story #storytelling #first memory #broken leg #hospital

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jjba-hell · 3 years

Text

Fate and Fortune

Part 10 )^o^( can’t believe we made double digits!

Part 9 here but you can just hop onto the Fate and Fortune tag to find them all.

Contents warning: necromancy, death and decay, touch of mysticism, EXTREMELY violently act ala Vera

Tags: @risottoneroo and @fyre23

A/N: Today, I offer you guys minimal proofreading and sub-par work lol good luck

“Vera, we’re here.” Noriaki’s soft sway on her shoulders seemed to bring her back to life- stretching out in a body that felt like it ran a marathon. It didn’t quite feel like she personally did but her body felt otherwise.

They were still on the moving bus, to Varanasi which was supposed to be a place of spiritual sanctity. Honestly, all wonder for the trip’s destinations had left her after Singapore so it wasn’t a surprise that she paid almost no regard to the city unfolding in front of her. “You’ve slept through most of the trip- are you okay?”

She looked at Jotaro, who was looking back at her to ask the question. With a solemn nod she rose out of her seat and swung, yet again, only the remnants of her last duffel bag.

“I think I’ll deviate from the group- just for today. Can we meet up at the hotel?”

The others seemed to have little qualm, save for Polnareff who detached himself from the Nena chick long enough to approach Vera.

“Vera, are you sure it’s a good idea to venture out on your own?”

She had to choke back her laughter, the others stopping in their place. Her gaze moved to Kakyoin who spoke. “Polnareff, did you not see what she did to Hol Horse for information?”

“Trust me on this, Jean. I’d be more concerned for your own safety.”

Vera didn’t give them any more time to talk. Varanasi had plenty of mystic shops, she’d been there with Avdol before so it was easy to find some incense and a tarot mat.

She hadn’t been able to have a good reading in what felt like months- she kept pulling the cards that told her to let go of her grief but she really didn’t need to hear it. Hopefully with her desperation to learn the next stand user’s card she could pull something- anything else.

Her fingers slid over the upside down deck and chose two. They will be the next card holders. The empress and Justice.

The sight of the Justice card made her stomach turn violently- a reaction she’d never had before.

Oh it was going to be nasty wasn’t it?

Funny how preparations still can’t guard you against surprise. The group had moved on into Pakistani territory after Nena turned out to be the Empress holder.

They had just started to enter the foggy Pakistani town when the same dread she had felt during the reading started to stir up.

Jotaro flinching at something on the side of road didn’t help put her at ease. In the foggy town they decided to spend the night in she hopped out of the trunk of the jeep and stayed back as Me Joestar tried to ask for directions. “Am I the only one that feels that something is seriously off about this place?” Vera asked Kakyoin.

He seemed to open his mouth to answer but Polnareff’s yelling stopped any conversation they could have had.

“Vera!” She ran after the Frenchman to a man slumped over his own knees behind a pillar. “Is he-? Is he-?”

She brought Fortune out to try and turn any wound on him back but the salamanders scuttling out of his mouth made her pause.

“Why is his face like that?” Polnareff continued frantically.

“I’d have guessed tetanus but that comes with a really stiff corpse and my guy is uhh...” she pressed her boot against his knee which swayed easily. “He’s still warm!” She seemed to surprise herself.

While the others spoke to the civilians and one another , a crackling voice came a from the fence a few feet beyond the car.

“Vera.”

It was so faint but the way they spoke- it almost sounded familiar. “Vera, my angel, is that you?”

Her heart dropped in her shoes. She hadn’t heard that nickname in years. The only one who called her that was her mom. It wasn’t possible- her mother was dead. And what would she be doing in a village this far from Cairo?

Vera knew she should have known better than to let the barest hints push her past the rusty gate into a fog thicker than she was prepared to handle. The sight of her mother’s long raven hair and the clink of her rings on the rusted bars just beyond the fog sent her deep inside to follow the footsteps that drove her deeper into the fog.

Fortune moved on her own, phasing whoever she was chasing back a few steps.

Big mistake.

A scream she didn’t even know she possessed in her lungs ripped through the air. Her heart pounded in her ears as her limbs locked into their place.

Staring back at her was indeed her mother- skin sunken to lay flat against her skull- throat oozing maggots. She was staring back at her corpse.

A hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her with speed and force she simple knew wasn’t human. Practically gliding back the way she came she finally took a moment to look at said arm wrapped around her wrist and the black gloves and purple fingers allowed her to register. “Star?”

She slipped out of the dense fog back to the street where the others were getting close to where Vera gasped for breath on her knees beside a kneeling Jotaro.

“Vera, what happened?”

Her hands shook as she tried to push herself back onto her feet, the lump in her throat refusing to go down. “My mom. I saw the corpse of my mom.”

The tears flowed freely at the admittance- her heart aching painfully. Why was he mother’s corpse outside of their grave?

“Are you sure?” Mr Joestar was the one to offer a steadying hand- her body still trying to get over its malfunctioning limbs.

She only nodded, looking at him. “Or at the very least someone who looks just like her.”

“I see we have a bunch of travelers.”

The old tavern lady had put Vera off ease the second the old hag opened her mouth. Looking at Polnareff had her wondering if the man had any intuition at all or if he was ignorant of his own gut feeling- joking about with the old lady like they were old friends.

“You’re still standing on shaky legs- are you okay to walk?” Noriaki asked, brows knitted together in concern. She could move, somewhat- it just felt like her legs didn’t quite obey her. So he slipped her under his arm, hand holding her shoulder against his as they followed the old woman to her little hotel.

She watched as Jotaro filled in his name and then hand her the pen. Turns out her hands weren’t working either- the pen jiggling dangerously in her grip.

He slowly slipped the pen out of her fingers and started writing her name- Violet. Why would he-?

“I think she’s gone into shock- it would be best if we got her to calm down upstairs.” She gazed up at him, the scowl on his face dead serious.

Noriaki lead her into the same room as Mr Joestar and Jotaro- looking for the first aid kit he had brought along to hand her a little silver sachet of electrolytes and sugar water. “It should help with the shock, hopefully.”

Being doted on was a foreign feeling to Vera- she’d always managed pretty well on her own but... seeing her mother like that. Her whole world seemed to shiver under the mere thought of her mother’s corpse outside of her grave.

“Any idea how we can make out the next stand user?” Noriaki asked as they realized the TV in the room had no signal.

She really wasn’t going to invalid for much longer- it was hurting her pride. “I’m gonna go take a smoke, when I get back hopefully my hands’ll be steady enough for a reading.”

Without another word she stood up and as steady as she could she left the room. Perhaps it was unconventional but she moved into Polnareff’s empty room- remembering him saying something about finding the restroom. She popped the window open and climbed out, using Fortune to hold onto anything that could prevent her from falling.

As silently as she could manage, she paced the roof up and down down until her cigarette was just about halfway done. Until she saw a car she did not remember being parked outside the hotel. The pacing seemed to have helped to bring back confidence in her legs so she squat down and spent Fortune to bring back anything from the car.

“A hair... really? Luckiest stand in the tarot and you bring me a hair?”

It’s strand was bizarrely long, she’d have guessed probably shoulder length and blonde....

Would it be a long shot to connect the hair to Hol Horse? He’s the first blonde she’d seen in weeks so it only made sense...

And yet... she hopped back in through Polnareff’s window and slipped as quietly through the lobby as she could until that same crackling voice from before called to her from behind.

It felt like forcibly turning her neck to look and the sight made her nearly lose the sugar water she had swallowed. “Our little angel, all grown up.”

Two slowly dragging corpses came her way- resembling her parents in death a bit too similarly for her to think straight in that moment.

“Just a shame you couldn’t save us, huh?”

“All that power all for your greedy little self, huh?”

Their voices were not even theirs, like they were puppets speaking with whatever was left of their voices.

“Come home, angel.”

“You won’t have to be alone anymore.”

Vera backed away slowly, the jitters sliding down her spine getting stronger. “You’re not... you’re not my parents.” She tried to convince herself.

“You’re not my parents!” She screamed to affirm once more before letting her legs carry her anywhere but there. Slipping past the room beside the lobby she saw a bloody Hol Horse and for nothing but information she had Fortune grab him over their shoulder- running towards the first door. Only to be greeted with Polnareff in the back room- panicking to find a room to hide in.

Vera sent Fortune to keep the door shut despite the banging from what she could only assume was the corpse of her parents.

She slapped Hol Horse awake angrily and when he opened his eyes she started the question. “What’s the old hag’s trick?”

Polnareff turned to her in confusion. “How did you know it was-?”

“A scratch and you’re gone. She controls you like a puppet Polnareff answered.

Her grip in Hol Horse’s shirt became tighter. “Are those my parents’ corpses out there?”

Hol Horse seemed to waver immensely- unsure if he should answer, not that she was giving him the option.

“Answer me or I’ll let the hag have you!”

“Yes! They’ve been rotting in their coffins since we stole them from the coroner’s offices in Cairo- Enya figured it would drive you insane.”

“Well... she wasn’t wrong.”

Vera had Fortune fix Hol Horse’s arm. “What did you do that for?”

“You’re gonna help me kill that bitch.”

Before she could think up a plan however the shadows under the door vanished. She pressed her head to the door and listened, feeling relieved at Jotaro’s voice on the other end of the door.

Her breath evened just enough and with a chuckle she asked Hol Horse for a cigarette which he obliged with slight confusion.

She slipped the door open and stepped out to meet up with Jotaro and the hag.

“Where’s you disappear to?” He asked as she approached him specifically, taking a casual drag as she slipped beside him.

“Oh just running into some old ghosts. You wouldn’t believe who’s also here.”

Enya was sweating under her and Jotaro’s gaze.

“Nice try, Enya really.” She stepped towards her, the cretin slipping backward slowly as she sent the corpses her and Jotaro’s way with Fortune guarding her and Jotaro. “You really had me there- I was just on the point of losing my mind. Maybe I have because uhhh I’m not particularly violent but hearing you brought my parents’ corpses hear?”

A low hysterical laugh bubbled up from Vera’s chest, Fortune’s hands wrapping around Enya’s neck and the fog of her stand slowly dissipating. “I’ll be kind- I promise. You get to see your son now...”

Fortune’s fingers dug into eyeballs and with a gargled scream Fortune pried apart until a splattered thud sounded at Vera’s feet.

With a heavy heart she put her parents’ cropses on two burning piles and said her final goodbyes as the ashes drifted in the wind- ore than anything else, all she could hope was that they could finally rest in peace.

She hadn’t slept alone ever since- crawling under the arm of either Jotaro or Kakyoin when it got too dark and letting herself only close her eyes under their protective arms. For when the sun rose she knew how to be strong- her thoughts where quiet enough in the daylight.

BONUS！

Jotaro walked tiredly into the hotel room of their last stop to Karachi- he had originally shared the room with Kakyoin but under the circumstances, Vera wasn’t a particular problem.

The first time he and Kakyoin realized she was likely interested in them both, it was Kakyoin who walked up to him to ask him how he’d move forward. At the time Jotaro had only wanted Vera to be his and he hadn’t given an answer. But it was times like this- when she was curled up to Kakyoin’s side, contently asleep, that made him waver in his choice to ask her love exclusively.

“What if she said she wanted us both?” The question hung in the air for a moment- Jotaro’s blue gaze meeting Kakyoin’s as he knelt down beside the bed’s edge to brush her hair away from her face. The grey streaks she had once woken up to and nearly threw a fit over brought a smile to his face. “It wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

Kakyoin’s hand lifted up and started brushing the hair away from her temple as well. “I couldn’t agree more.”

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #JoJo part 3 #Jotaro Kujo #Jean Pierre Polnareff #Joseph Joestar #Noriaki Kakyoin #OC content #OC Vera #fate and fortune

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

Stubborn, Coda to 15x03 “The Rapture”

Sam finds Dean after causing the rupture in his and Cas's relationship, trying to heal the wound with a familiar potion. When Dean can't answer a very easy answer, tensions finally boil over and Sam says a few things that Dean needs to hear. Needed to hear for years. Surprising how it takes only one domino to fall for an entire structure to collapse.

Sam softly closes his bedroom door, wincing as the hinges squeak. Echoing in the too empty hallway. Once he hears the small click of his lock Sam steps away. Then he shuffles down towards the kitchen. Each step brings with it a small jolt of cold as his bare feet connect with the tile. He welcomes the distraction as it pushes the more troubling thoughts from the front of his mind.

His path would lead him to the kitchen, if he kept on course. Seeing as the day’s theme is the opposite of that, Sam finds himself following the clattering sounds of the alcohol decanters and his brother’s growling in the War Room.

Dean sits hunched over the glow of the world map. Arms splayed across the surface, one traveling up the length of South America where his pinkie finger gently rubs against Middle America. The other hand clutches to the glass of half-drunk whiskey floating in the Pacific.

Sighing, Sam moves closer. The mutterings he could barely hear earlier become full sentences, a familiar name popping up every few words. He clears his throat. Announcing his presence before Dean could say anything he might regret. That he wasn’t ready for.

His brother tenses, head turning to where Sam entered. Glassy, bloodshot eyes swim in a sea of liquor as they try to focus on him. When the flash of recognition dimly lights up his gaze, the frown smeared across Dean’s face lightens into a harsh line. “What’re y’doin up?”

Great. Slurring means Dean drank enough to kill a horse. The empty row of containers scattered across the map provides enough evidence for his theory.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sam says, “Figured I’d make some coffee… what about you?”

Dean rolls his eyes, lazily saluting with his glass. Whiskey sloshing inside. “Drinkin’.”

“I can see that.”

“Good f’you…”

Sam leans on one of the chairs, sour mood curdling further. His brother takes the barbed silence as an end to their conversation, sipping at his drink and laying his head across the map again without care.

Not ready to leave yet, Sam searches for something to say. Looks in every corner of the War Room, past the archways and into every shadow. The overwhelming absence needles him. “Where’s Cas?”

Scoffing, Dean tucks himself further into his arm.

Sam repeats himself. “Where’s Cas?” Then he scrapes the chair across the floor. Dean stiffens into a seated position, posture straight and face wrenched in pain.

He glares at him, “What was that for?”

“Where’s… Cas ?”

“Why you wanna know, huh?” Dean asks instead, shifting awkwardly. Wobbling to and fro in his seat. “You think you mean that much to him? I got news Sam - you don’t . None of us do.” He empties his glass, slamming it onto the map. “Where’s Cas?” he mocks, snarling, “Who cares - how’s that for an answer?”

Sam’s lips twisted in disgust at the sheer ugliness marring his brother’s features. Gone was the smooth mask of professionalism. With nothing weighing on his shoulders, all the hurt and pain from days ago could swim to surface and take their wretched breaths.

“I care, Dean,” Sam starts, “and so do you -”

Dean scoffs. “I care… maybe once, maybe…” He swallows roughly, gaze darting to his lap. “I don’t anymore. S’all that matters. Cas could go off himself in some stupid way or,” the next part comes out rough, dragged through his clenched teeth. “Or give up this whole rotten business and settle down with some pretty young thing. He made it perfectly clear where the line’s drawn… Us on one side, him on the other.”

Sam glares, Dean’s tantrum eating at his already frayed nerves. “What did you say to him?”

“ Me ?” he splutters, “Why’re you sticking up for that little punk , huh? What’s he ever done for us?”

“What’s he ever - Dean . Do you even hear yourself?” His grip on the chair tightens, the wood biting into his skin. “Cas has given everything to help us. To help you . Sacrificed himself time and time again for the greater good, doing what he thinks right -”

“Yeah, right ,” Dean chuckles darkly, “What he thinks is right . Like smiting the useful demon and forcing Rowena to off herself - he thought that was right .”

Sam sees white. The anger passes, vision sharpening as his teeth press so fiercely against each other they might shatter. “Plans change,” he says, “We didn’t have any other choice -”

Dean rushes to his feet, chair clamoring as it falls backwards. Every muscle wired and ready to pounce, sobriety hemming the steely green of his iris. “Because he didn’t give us a choice, Sammy. He went AWOL and did this to us. Every damn time something goes wrong Cas is there, red-fucking-handed.”

Shocked, Sam distances himself from the brother he barely knows. Anger possessing him like a demented spirit. “If you really think that,” he says, “then it’s your fault. You taught him about free will, about how to make choices. Even if they’re the tough ones, like today’s.”

“Well that was a fucking mistake,” he says with no hesitation. “ He’s a mistake. A lost cause. A - what did he call Bel-bel-bel-whatever? Abomination? Sure let’s go with that.”

“Dean, he’s your best friend -”

“He’s not my -” Dean teeters, so close to falling over. Sam reaches out, ready to catch him. His brother shakes off the stupor and bats Sam’s hand away. More tentative than last time, Dean continues, “Wasn’t my best friend… not for a long time… he was - and now he’s not really…” Nose scrunching in confusion, Dean wipes at his teary eyes and growls. “It doesn’t matter anymore Sam! He never mattered, never cared . Castiel is an angel, and like every other feathery bastard like him all he did was interfere .”

Vein throbbing, Sam sucks a deep breath low into his gut to try and smother the rising flames of his temper. They only fan it. The fire rages across his conscious and turns any remaining patience inside to ash. “I’m fucking tired of this, Dean.”

“So am I. Finally something we can agree on.”

“No, I’m tired of you ,” Sam says, startling Dean. “I’m tired of this .”

“Oh, so you’re gonna move on from me too, Sam?” Dean asks, fear visibly paling his expression. “Leave like Cas, like Chuck -”

“Enough!” Sam roars, “Stop pushing all of your problems onto other people! I’m not Chuck, Cas isn’t Chuck. We actually fucking care about you. The sooner you stop taking your anger out on us - on him - the better all our lives will be.”

“But I am angry with Cas,” Dean argues still, “Sam, Cas he - he let mom die -”

“Yes, mom died,” he says, “Mom died. Jack died. Ketch died, and too many innocent people died… Rowena died, Dean.” Sam stutters a shaky sigh, heart clenching. “I had to kill someone I was getting so close… someone I loved and could see myself loving for a long time. She followed the plan Billie set out perfectly for us, and look how it turned out. Another woman I loved who ended up dead at my hands .”

Dean stares with precise focus at the ground, unable to meet Sam’s gaze. He carries on. “Rowena and me though… we didn’t get a choice. At least there’s some comfort in that, knowing she went out saving the world. Giving other people the chance to decide how they’ll spend their next day. But if you expect me to throw you a fucking pity party for pushing Cas away then you’re skunked. No one held a gun to your head and forced you to hold this ridiculous grudge against him, you pushed away someone you loved all on your own.”

Flustered, Dean meeks out a response. “I didn’t lo… I didn’t… Cas left on his own -”

“Cas left because you gave him no choice,” Sam tells him. “You took away any option he had and when he could only do what was left you blamed him for it. Would you blame the car in front of you for traffic if it was construction’s fault for blocking out the other lanes? No! Then why Cas?”

Sam answers for Dean. “Because you figured Cas would stay. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this but it’s the first time Cas called you on your bluff.”

Dean holds his ground. “There is no bluff -”

“Don’t,” he warns, “Do not… you can lie to everyone, lie to Cas - hell, lie to yourself. But don’t look me in the eye and tell me it isn’t exactly what we both know it is.”

His brother opens his mouth as if to speak, only to snap it shut with enough force to bite the head off a snake.

“You never learn… you lash out at the easiest targets. Probably thought you could get away with it because it was Cas. Cas never leaves you, Cas is always there. Cas will come back - even if it shouldn’t be possible. You had so many chances,” Sam’s voice breaks, a tear slipping free. “And you wasted each one. This isn’t on Cas, man. It’s on you. You’re the reason your world’s falling apart. You’re Chuck. And if you keep on acting this way you’ll end up just like him… miserable, depressed, and alone.”

No more steam left in his engine Sam spins on his heel. Coffee forgotten, he stomps towards his room without glancing back. Not when Dean calls for him, demands he stay. Nor when curses echo in the Bunker’s halls, followed by the smashing of glass against stone.

Sam keeps moving forward, hoping Dean will see the light soon and follow.

He needs to, because with Cas gone there’s one less star brightening his darkness.

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #15x03 #The Rupture #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Samwena #Destiel #Deancas #Castiel #Rowena MacLeod #Supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #spn coda

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yukippe · 4 years

Text

one word: i want

for @pjofemslashweek day 4: rom com (teen idol - books count, right?) | read on ao3 | word count: 7.2k

ASK ATHENA

dear athena,

i really like this guy but he’s way out of my league and i don’t think he even knows my name. i don’t even care if we go out or anything, i just want to get to know him :( what should i do? thanks!

lonely in love

dear lonely,

if you’re worried he doesn’t know who you are, try doing something that’ll catch his attention. or, if you really wanna solve your problem go up to him and say hi. people are more willing to get to know you than you might think. just be careful not to say anything dumb.

athena

piper didn’t know why she said yes to this, but now she was kind of stuck with it. “this” being showing pop star actress thalia grace around school for two weeks.

piper said yes to most things people asked her to do. she said yes to being ask athena for the school paper, she said yes to joining the mathletes with annabeth and now she’s said yes to babysitting an actress. thalia grace has been a child star since she was little, following in her mom’s footsteps. but that means she’d never been to real school. piper had been called into a meeting last week about it, thalia grace (or thalia grace’s agent/mom beryl grace) had decided to attend high school to help prepare for her new role on some teen drama.

the reason she said yes is likely why they asked her. piper was good at keeping secrets (famous dad nobody knows about, much?) and she was even better at being forced to keep the peace. people loved to ask piper things and they hated to hear her advice. piper had gotten used to telling people what they wanted to hear. being thalia grace’s tour guide was just the newest on the list.

considering most teen drama writers had never been to high school, piper didn’t think it was very necessary. but to be fair, piper wasn’t an actress. when she’d mentioned it to her dad, he’d said it sounded pretty cool. piper was pretty sure her dad was considered an authority on “cool” to some girls her age. piper was also pretty sure none of those girls have seen her dad wipe out on a surfboard. (or maybe they had? some fans were creepy).

which meant monday morning piper was waiting in the office for thalia grace to show up, piper was early because lupa had told her too and piper was not about to mess with the principal. there was a rumour going around that gwen graduated early last year because she was scared principal lupa was going to eat her. piper checked her phone. 8:10. thalia was five minutes late, piper would’ve thought thalia would be on time because her dad was always obsessing over being early and piper had always assumed it was an actor thing. though, to be fair to thalia, thalia’s whole image was very black ripped jeans and self pierced ears. piper’s best friend annabeth was a little obsessed with her, but it wasn’t really piper’s thing.

“hey,” piper looked up. there was thalia grace. or, as she would be going as for the next two weeks, tessa green. someone had striped the blue streaks from her hair, the pixie cut was held back by a pink headband and instead of her signature leather jacket annabeth couldn’t shut up about, thalia was wearing a white sundress. piper blinked. she’d known that thalia was going to be undercover as a regular student so she wouldn’t be mobbed by fans or whatever....but piper hadn’t expected this.

“hi,” piper said. “nice outfit.”

thalia rolled her eyes, “my mom’s always wanted a chance to change my look, and she went a little overboard.”

“cool, well we should be getting to class. we have latin with mr. brunner,” piper told her. piper picked up her bag and pocketed her phone and started walking to class. she looked back to check that thalia was following her. thalia was following, but she was starting to droop. piper had a redbull in her bag for emergencies she’d offer her if thalia started to snore.

most of the class was already there when piper arrived with thalia. she showed thalia the empty seat behind her and turned back to the front. mr. brunner was already in class, but he wasn’t really….there there. last week octavian augur had decided to steal mr. brunner’s horse plushie that he likes to decorate in different historical armour for the senior prank. mr brunner’s been a little...weepy ever since. piper had told octavian and his cronies that it was dumb, but they’d told her it was chill and piper had let it go but...mr. brunner really wasn’t taking it well.

thalia nudged her with a pencil. “what?” piper asked, not bothering to turn around.

“one, are we actually supposed to start learning at eight thirty? that’s disgusting. and two, why is that guy so sad?”

piper sighed, “yes we start school at eight thirty, but we finish at three so it’s fine.”

“three?”

“yeah, and mr. brunner...well the guys in the back row stole his doll last week and he doesn’t know where it is.” piper bit at her lip as she watched mr. brunner stare at his papers. she was a little worried he was going to use them as tissues, and they looked like the last essays they’d handed in. she’d spent six hours on that.

“uh,” thalia said. “that’s fucked up.”

“it’s high school,” piper told her, starting to feel a little guilty. mr brunner bailed her out of any more of thalia’s comments as he finally called class to order, still sniffling.

thalia made it through first and second period, but when piper was leading her to third period she started wavering a bit so piper slide her her unlabelled thermos of energy drink. thalia drank it way too quickly, but piper didn’t judge.

as they walked through the hallways piper’s classmates whispered to each other. at one point, piper was pretty sure she saw one girl squeal something about how much thalia looked like thalia grace. yikes. piper pulled thalia quickly past that.

at lunch, thalia found the coffee machine and met piper at piper’s lunch table with a tray of coffees. piper stole on when thalia was turned around as payment for the day and turned back to her friends. she sat with annabeth and her friends from the paper. drew and grover were both columnists, jason was an editor, percy and rachel did the photography and the comics and reyna was the editor in chief. thalia seemed a little overwhelmed by all the kids, but piper let her be. if she could sing in front of giant crowds she could handle the caf.

annabeth was eyeing thalia, “who are you?” piper sighed. annabeth was kinda the worst at first impressions. besides, annabeth also had a massive crush on thalia grace and piper wouldn’t be surprised if annabeth saw past thalia’s pink-do.

thalia smirked from behind her second cup of coffee, “tessa green. transfer student.”

annabeth eyed her a little longer, but thalia had moved on. annabeth looked slightly miffed at that, but percy distracted her. percy’s crush on annabeth was even bigger than annabeth’s crush on thalia.

thalia elbowed piper. “hey,” thalia whispered to her. “who’s the kid in the corner with the matches?”

piper looked over to where thalia was pointing. oh. leo valdez. leo was...kind of a loser. he was also the exact kind of loser that piper wanted to be friends with, but he was in robotics and not mathletes and piper doubted he’d ever join the paper considering mr d had threatened him last year. he was typically making something that would set the school on fire. going straight to matches was new though. piper relayed this to thalia.

“okay, but why isn’t he sitting with anyone?” thalia asked.

“uh,” piper said. “because he has no friends?”

thalia blinked at her, “why aren’t you his friend then?”

“because this is high school and everyone thinks he’s a loser?” piper said.

“not everyone thinks he’s a loser,” jason piped up. thalia turned to look at jason, and her face started to look a little sick. piper could relate, jason sometimes looked a little too perfect with his whole american boy shtick. but piper could also remember the time he almost ate a battery when they were freshmen, so it wasn’t that bad.

drew detached herself from reyna’s mouth (piper was starting to get especially tired of this, they’d been dating for a year and piper saw way more tongue than she ever wanted too from her half sister) to stare at jason, “yes, jason. everyone thinks he’s a loser.”

“i don’t think he’s a loser!” jason repeated. jason always stuck up for the little guy, piper liked the sentiment but piper thought it was a little unrealistic to live like that all of the time.

thalia seemed to like the vibe though, “yeah. he can’t be the worst.”

drew turned to thalia with a raised eyebrow as she stuck the straw of her ice cap in her mouth. then drew stopped short. “oh,” drew said. “who are you?”

“tessa green,” thalia said, eyeing drew right back. piper wondered if thalia had somehow managed to miss that drew and reyna had just been making out. the two of them were making really weird eye contact so piper turned to face reyna. reyna was reading something on her phone. reyna was almost always reading something on her phone, and piper had made it her mission since reyna transferred to their school at the end of last year to figure out what it was.

annabeth thought piper liked reyna. piper had told annabeth multiple times to shove it. piper just. well, reyna already had a girlfriend so it didn’t matter. piper had known reyna since the fifth grade when they were on the track team together. they’d both done long jump. reyna had been much better and won metals and piper had shared the fancy snacks her dad’s shopper bought when they went to meets. then, at the end of fifth grade reyna had moved away to live with her sister. but she’d been at the paper’s retreat over the summer and had snatched the editor in chief position with her natural leadership and her essays on drive and growing up closeted. the position should’ve been drew’s since drew was the only senior on staff and reyna was a junior like piper, but drew had been at a much fancier journalism camp while reyna was impressing mr d.

then drew had come back for school and she and reyna had gotten together while piper had been stuck on the memory of reyna laughing as she helped piper get out the smores stuck in her hair at the retreat.

piper was still into reyna, but she wasn’t going to steal her half sister’s girlfriend. so instead, nd she very platonically hung out with reyna and tried to look over her shoulder when reyna was on her phone. she really wanted to know what reyna was reading. her current guess was the art of war, but she wasn’t sure.

there was only one almost case of a small fire during lunch, and leo got his matches confiscated by a lunch lady right after. piper watched him as he left. octavian augur might’ve been the best the seniors had to offer this year (mostly because percy and annabeth were to busy mooning at each other while the other wasn’t looking to bother) but piper knew leo was going to come up with something actually funny next year.

the rest of the day passed in a blur. thalia pestered her when she didn’t understand something - which was a lot - and thalia creepily watched jason during algebra.

thalia complained a bit about going to the paper meeting after school, but then she and drew got into a weirdly charged argument about a celebrities right for privacy. thalia argued paparazzis were like mosquitos and drew argued that celebrities chose to live in the public eye. piper wanted to back thalia up, but she’d managed to keep the fact that her dad was a movie star almost completely on the down low and she was a big fan of not hearing people ask her about how hot he was. drew knew and was mostly just playing up devils advocate to flirt, but that was about it.

reyna had asked piper after the meeting if she wanted a ride from her, but she told her that percy and annabeth had her covered. reyna used to drive piper and drew home all the time, but drew had been getting really bitchy recently and the drives home were growing more and more awkward. piper thought it was because she was graduating and going off to university in another state and would have to leave reyna behind, but she wasn’t going to get involved in her half sister’s love life.

percy shot finger guns at her as he raced out of the meeting to pull his car around. annabeth and him weren’t dating yet because neither of them had realized the other liked them back, but he still gave annabeth a ride home everyday and didn’t mind that piper had started to tag along. percy was nice like that. piper really hoped annabeth didn’t find out thalia was thalia and set her thing with percy back a few months.

thalia turned to piper as they exited the school, “thanks for today. i’ll see you tomorrow.” piper smiled awkwardly back and watched thalia go. thalia walked over to the parking lot and got on a motorcycle. piper blinked. well, it looked like thalia wasn’t going completely prep for her stint in high school.

ASK ATHENA

dear athena,

theres this guy and he’s super smart - way smarter than me. i want to talk to him but i’m worried he’s going to think i’m dumb. we share one of our classes and he’s the funniest guy i’ve ever met. funny AND smart. i’m average and boring :/ what can i do to get him to like me?

thanks,

average and boring

dear average,

average is better than below average! just kidding. listen to the kind of jokes he makes and see if you can make one back - google has like a gazillion pages on pages of jokes you can use. you can’t make him like you, but jokes and other common interests are a good way to start. if he’s really worth it, he’ll like that you’re making the effort.

athena

the next day thalia was full of questions. she’d also ditched the headband and the dress. she hadn’t gone full punk, but she was in jeans and flannel and had equipped herself with a very tall thermos. piper had caught a sniff and she was pretty sure it was just shots of espresso.

“so,” thalia said as they watched mr. brunner look over his collection of swords and miniature swords (those ones were for the horse). “do you like that leo kid?”

piper started to choke. when she recovered she shook her head. “no,” she said. “uh. i’m gay and i’m pretty sure he is too.”

“oh” thalia said. “Nice, same. Okay next question, when are you doing something about the horse?”

“i’m not.”

“you will,” thalia smiled at her. it wasn’t even a mean smile. it was just a very annoyingly assured smile. annabeth wore it all the time, so piper was well acquainted with it. “okay final question: what is it that you do on the paper?”

piper turned back around to face mr. brunner, thalia had dropped tissues off on his desk when she’d come in and he was putting them to good use. “i do ad placements,” piper lied. nobody was allowed to know who ask athena was because then nobody would feel comfortable asking anything. and - well piper liked being listened to, even if nobody knew it was her they were talking to. the only people who knew were principal lupa, coach hedge and reyna.

the rest of the week went mostly the same. thalia bothered her about the horse and why she wasn’t friends with leo and seemed oddly fixated on jason. thalia also wrote an article with drew about privacy that piper’s dad liked a lot. piper guess she should have known thalia was a good writer, she didn’t watch any of thalia’s shows or movies but she did have some of her songs downloaded and thalia was a really good songwriter. it was...actually pretty nice.

thalia also made fun of octavian whenever she passed him, which was pretty great. piper was starting to look forward to the day octavian tried to start a fight and thalia punched him in the face. piper had told her guidance counsellor coach hedge that, and he’d agreed. coach hedge was pretty sure that thalia could take him, and will piper wasn’t sure how much that really meant she was starting to notice something.

everyone, besides octavian probably, really liked thalia. mr. brunner had let her hold one of the unsharpened swords (piper had no idea how the sharpened ones were allowed in the classroom), principal lupa had smiled without her scary teeth near thalia, annabeth was starting to get a crush piper really wanted to end, and drew was halfway flirting with her most of the time - which piper was really grossed out by. who flirted with someone else when they were dating reyna.

reyna was reyna. how was drew not totally in love with her? piper was in love with her and she wasn’t even with her. reyna sang along to the thalia grace songs as she drove in a scratchy alto and made the worst brownies but could be coached into make half decent chocolate chip cookies and was the best writer piper had ever met and piper didn’t think she’d ever forget the way reyna had looked at her with complete and utter trust when she’d told her about moving out of her dads and into her sisters and how she much she loved her sister and loved living with her, even though her sister always beat her when they raced.

reyna was also like, the only person who didn’t love thalia. they still got along, but piper though it might be the whole your flirting with my girlfriend and she’s flirting back thing that was holding back their friendship.

everyone liked thalia and the paper was going well and mr. brunner wasn’t crying so much - even though octavian augur had left a ransom note threatening to make his doll bite it if mr brunner didn’t pass all of the seniors - and piper had even done half decent at the last mathletes meeting.

then on saturday the whole “tessa green is the coolest thing ever” train hit a snag.

ASK ATHENA

dear athena,

i got up the nerve to talk to mr. out of my league. i asked him to work on a group project with me and he said yes! but he’s so quiet i’m really struggling to get him to talk to me. the whole point was to get to know each other and he’s still the cutest guy ever but i don’t know how to get him to open up :(

thanks,

lonely in love

dear lonely,

congrats on the group project! you’ve taken the first step so the ball should really be in his court, but if you want to try and encourage him to open up try cracking a joke! if you can get him to laugh you can probably get him to talk to you

good luck,

athena

the mathletes were doing a car wash on saturday. piper didn’t know why, but annabeth had said something about raising money for the bus to regionals and percy coming up with it and then piper had clued in. well, if her best friend really wanted to see her crush without his shirt, piper could kind of get it. she’d been known to go quiet when she saw reyna flex her biceps.

most of the paper had been talked into helping out - which thank god. all of the mathletes gave piper dirty looks when she got a question wrong during practice. someone had decided to ask coach hedge to supervise mathlete meetings (piper thought he had gotten suckered in by the athlete part and then felt to guilty to quit), while coach hedge normally ditched them for the track team he’d been able to show up at the car wash and piper wasn’t sure what to expect. a bunch of mean nerds plus coach hedge plus thalia grace plus the paper.

annabeth had texted piper to show up in a swimsuit and shorts and piper had obeyed, while rolling her eyes at her phone. she was also stuck being the one to bring the speaker, because her dad had bought a top of the line waterproof bluetooth smartspeaker. sometimes, piper wondered what her friends thought her dad did to have all this weird stuff.

considering that piper was told to wear a swimsuit, she should've known that that meant reyna was also going to be wearing a swimsuit. piper had thought she’d had it bad when she’d seen reyna’s biceps, but she’d been frozen when she saw reyna’s abs as soon as she arrived. annabeth had ripped the speaker from her hands and almost spilt a bucket of soapy water on her before piper snapped out of it.

there were way more people at the car wash than piper had expected. it was for the mathletes with the assistance of the paper. it looked a bit like coach hedge had made his actual athletes show up and hold signs and pay for car washes, but there were a bunch of regular students piper never would have expected.

leo had shown up, for example. leo drove a pickup, which piper had found surprising because she’d heard a rumour that leo had gotten his license taken away for illegally tricking out his truck. leo told her that the cops didn’t know, which piper probably should’ve been more concerned about.

instead, she asked leo to show her what he’d done to his car. reyna and piper washed leo’s car as he showed them how he had a secondary horn for fun that spat out randomized animal sounds. reyna didn’t seem to find it funny, so piper was a little confused as to why she was washing leo’s car when drew seemed to be over at a much nicer car with thalia.

“so,” leo asked her after he finished showing her the lights he had in the wheels. “are you and thalia a thing?”

piper laughed, “what? me and thalia?”

“yeah, are you?” piper spun around to see reyna awkwardly holding up a sponge. reyna looked a little sad for some reason, maybe worried that thalia was dating piper and flirting with drew or something.

“uh no, thalia’s not really my type,” piper explained, still confused as to where these rumours where coming from.

“then who is your type?” reyna asked her, biting her lip. piper’s eyes caught on reyna’s mouth, but leo poked her and she blinked.

“uh,” piper said. “i like girls that um. girls that are strong, smart. good writers. bad bakers.”

leo started snickering, and piper kinda wanted to hit him. he’d caught on, but luckily reyna seemed not to realize piper was describing her.

piper looked back to where thalia and drew were washing the car, she was starting to think thalia was the reason there were so many people judging by how there were a crowd of ppl near her asking her to do something. “hey,” leo asked reyna. “how are things with you and drew?” piper winced.

“oh,” reyna said. “we broke up two days ago.”

piper spun around, “wait what?”

reyna looked over at drew and thalia, a strange look on her face. “yeah. drew and i. we ran our time out, i think. we got into a fight on the weekend and it didn’t end well.” reyna shook her head, and brushed her hair out of her face as she turned back to leo’s truck.

piper reached out and touched reyna’s arm. “hey,” she said softly. “i’m sure whatever drew said, she didn’t mean it.” reyna smiled, but her face was hard to read and piper let her hand fall.

leo leaned over and whispered to piper as she stepped back, “what are you doing - ask her out!” piper threw her sponge at him.

and then she heard the worst thing possible.

it was thalia’s music on the speaker. annabeth’s playlists all had something from thalia - piper felt her stomach drop as she turned back to thalia and drew. the crowd around thalia had started to chant something.

“sing! sing! sing! sing! sing!” piper’s classmates called. thalia laughed and hopped back onto the hood of the car and smiled at them all. and then she started to sing along to her own song on the radio like a complete fucking idiot.

annabeth was the first one to clue in. piper knew because she heard the music come to complete stop and when she turned around annabeth had dropped her bucket to the ground. piper looked around the entire parking lot and saw more and more people piece it together. and then they started moving towards thalia. thalia kept singing for a little longer - but then thalia seemed to realize what was going on and she hastily jumped onto the roof of the car she was sitting on as she fumbled for her phone.

piper had seen this happen before. her dad couldn’t go with her to a lot of places, and when they did hang out in public he always dressed very very carefully to try and put distance between himself and tristan mclean. “okay,” reyna said. piper looked back and saw reyna doing something on her phone. “i just called my sister so hylla’s gonna come by with some friends and try and talk some sense into all of those weirdos.” reyna’s sister did something with security, so piper nodded and turned back to the crowds.

there were teachers shoving screenplays at thalia and boys singing love songs and girls asking her to autograph their swimsuits. instead of trying to get her to sing, they were just saying thalia over and over again.

after a few minutes of it, reyna’s sister showed up in uniform with friends, and more importantly - a limo showed up for thalia. piper let out a breath of relief-

and then thalia called her name. “piper!” thalia said, halfway into her limo. “piper get over here!”

piper blinked at her, but leo and reyna shoved at her and she squeezed through the crowds as reyna’s sister helped her through the door. piper watched her friends faces as she drover away. there was no music playing in the limo.

ASK ATHENA

dear athena,

the really smart and funny guy asked me to work on a group project with him! except i keep freezing up when i talk to him!! i looked up jokes like you said, but i don’t know how to say them. he must think im such an airhead :’(

please help,

average and boring

dear average,

you said he’s funny right? next time he cracks a joke, say one back. also - maybe check out the letters from lonely in love? this is starting to sound weirdly familiar.

athena

piper sat on the carpet with her back to the couch in thalia’s apartment. thalia sat down next to her and handed her a glass of water. for a moment they just sat next to each other, staring at the black screen of the television.

“i’m sorry about back there,” piper said. “though, you probably shouldn’t have started singing.”

thalia let out a laugh, “yeah. yeah you’re right. but what are you sorry about?”

“for my friends being freaks?” piper offered.

“it’s fine,” thalia said. “happens all the time.”

piper knew that. it’s why everyone thought she and her dad were homebodies.

“hey,” thalia said, turning to face piper. “you’re different. you’re not as awful as all of those kids in your classes. i’ve never been to high school, but i’m kinda thankful for that now.”

piper frowned at thalia, “they’re not all bad.”

thalia blinked at her, “octavian augur is threatening to murder your latin teachers doll. and no ones saying anything. piper - you could say something.”

piper turned away from thalia and back to the black television screen. she wasn’t surprised by what thalia was saying, she’d been saying it all along. thalia wanted high school to have good fucking people. and she wanted piper to be one of them.

and. well, piper kind of wanted to be one of them too.

ASK ATHENA

dear athena,

i made a joke and he made a joke back! we’ve started actually talking and it’s so so so good, but i don’t know what to do now! i just wanted to get to know him at first, but now that i know him i want to ask him out. how do i let him know i’m interested - or how do i know he likes me back? he probably has lots of guys lining up to take him out

lonely in love

dear lonely,

go read average and boring’s letters. if you two aren’t writing ot me about each other i’m going to be very concerned about the state of unrequited crushes at this school. you both like each other. just ask him to go to the dance with you.

athena

piper went home with a mission in mind. she had her dad’s limo pick her up, just to mess with thalia. thalia had sent her off a little in awe and with an autograph request piper had promised ot fulfill with a laugh. piper wasn’t going to let anyone know who ask athena was anytime soon, but she figured she could let at least one secret go.

her dad took it all in stride, promising her he’d even deliver thalia her autograph in person. her dad was the easy part. annabeth had been blowing up her phone and when she finally answered it was like opening the flood gates.

“how do you think i should ask thalia grace to the dance?” annabeth asked. piper stared at her phone.

“why are you asking thalia grace to the dance?”

“piper! i’ve liked thalia grace forever, of course i’m going to ask her to the dance. wait - do you think drew beat me to it? i saw drew slip thalia her number before thalia got into the limo omigod piper i-”

piper cut her off, “annabeth you liked thalia grace’s music. you’ve been eating at the same lunch table as tessa green for a week and i didn’t think you liked her very much.”

“i. well. i just haven’t gotten the chance to get to know her. what, are you jealous that you don’t have a date to the dance or something?”

piper blinked at that. well, that was a take. she pinched herself so she would know she wasn’t hallucinating. “i’m not jealous. i already have a date. besides, you know who you actually know - and it’s not thalia. you know percy.”

“what does percy have to do with anything?”

“annabeth, percy’s going to ask you to the dance on monday. or at least he was going to. if you were ranting to him about thalia he probably doesn’t think you’re interested.”

annabeth was silent for a few moments. and then she said, hesitantly, “percy likes me?”

“yeah,” piper confirmed, way too tired for this conversation. then she hung up the phone because she wasn’t dealing with that for any longer.

after that, she called reyna.

reyna pulled up to the front of her house with her jaw hanging open. piper waved goodbye to her dad, who was laughing for some reason, and slipped into the passenger seat.

“your dad is tristan mclean,” reyna said, looking her right in the eye. “can you please interview him after his newest movie comes out. that would be the funniest issue we’ll ever print. i’ll get rachel and percy to put together a comic strip on it.”

piper blinked, and then she started to smile. “yeah sure,” piper said. “now can you drive me to octavian’s place?”

reyna dropped her off outside of octavian’s house and piper walked up to the door and rang the bell. after a few seconds the person piper was hoping for answered the door. will solace looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. he was in the year below piper and octavian’s younger step brother. he also hated octavian’s guts.

“hey,” piper said with a winning smile.

“hey,” will said. “uh, are you here for the doll? lou ellen’s in your math class and he said the new girls been bugging you about rescuing it all week.”

“uh,” piper said. will laughed and walked into the house. piper waited on the steps awkwardly, not quite sure what was going on. will came back a few seconds later with mr. brunner’s horse in one hand. in the other hand was a missing pet poster.

“hey i made this up with some friends, we thought it was funny,” will told her as he handed over the doll and the poster. “octavian thinks he lost the doll and has been freaking out for the past few days. can you like, record his reaction when he sees it?”

piper nodded slowly and thanked will. when she got back in the car she stared at the objects in her hand. reyna read over the poster. “huh,” reyna said. “maybe we can run an article about - wait his name is chiron? uh chiron’s return.”

“that was so much easier than i thought it would be,” piper said. reyna laughed at her and pulled away.

PIPER MCLEAN - DAUGHTER OF TRISTAIN MCLEAN - DATING THALIA GRACE?

EXES CHILDREN TURNED LOVEBIRDS

HIDING CELEBRITIES FIND LOVE!

unfortunately, the school paper didn’t get to be the one to break the news on who piper’s dad was. tabloids seemed to have caught on to thalia ushering her into her limo, there was even a picture of it swirling around the internet. some reporters had tried to call them, but her dad had shielded her from most of it. she’d given two quotes that he had approved. the first was, “you’re weirdly interested in a sixteen year olds love life” and the second had been, “yes i’m a lesbian. no i’m not dating thalia. not all teenage lesbians like thalia grace.”

pretty much all of her friends had sent her the clips and screenshots of it. leo had somehow gotten her number and texted her alternatives that involved a lot more swear words he wanted her to use next time. drew had texted saying that she was relieved because siblings shouldn’t share girlfriends. and reyna had called her laughing and they had stayed on the link for a few hours.

it was...pretty great. piper had even gotten out of the mathletes competition which she really hadn’t wanted to go and fail at because they didn’t want all of the extra attention she would bring. she’d been supposed to cover the event for the paper, but percy had happily taken her spot on the bus.

he’d asked annabeth to the dance while singing one of thalia’s songs. it was a song about second choices being just as good and annabeth had kissed him in front of the whole school and then told him very firmly that he wasn’t her second choice.

drew had been a little annoying - she’d texted piper something hearing thalia already had a date for the dance and how she was wondering if reyna would go with her. piper had told her she couldn’t go crawling back to reyna now. and then she told her that she should show up to the dance anyways, because that date wasn’t as sure a thing as drew might be thinking.

drew had left her on read. but the next day she’d been a lot more bearable. piper thought she might be getting the hang of the whole getting people to listen to her for once thing.

and leo was sitting with them at lunch. piper was pretty sure it had been jason who’d invited him - jason was getting a lot of confessions this week judging by the way he and leo were smiling at each other. leo let piper play with his robot and it didn’t catch on fire, but it did eat grover’s empty soda can.

the day before the dance piper made a returned version of the wanted poster, struggled to make clothes for the horse with reyna (apparently hylla and her had done some sewing classes at a community centre?) and placed chiron the horse on mr. brunner’s desk.

thalia wasn’t in the class with piper to see it all go down, but piper smiled and made direct eye contact with octavian the entire time as she was setting up chiron. he stared at her from his seat and didn’t dare to move a muscle. will’s friend lou ellen recorded it all the way including mr. brunner hugging the horse and challenging students to a duel with his swords. piper took him up on it, and laughed when he beat her.

“you know,” he said as he took back the sword she’d used. “i can do more in this wheelchair than you might think. like failing you!” mr. brunner had then pointed the sword at octavian and told him to march to the principal’s office. lou ellen’s video was on everyone's snapchat that night.

at lunch leo was smiling at everyone. “guess who’s hosting a dance protest party?”

“me,” jason said. leo turned and threw a hand on his chest and gasped dramatically. jason just smiled at him. “well it’s true! your mom said no so we’re hosting it at my place since i have a massive backyard.”

leo waved his hand at jason and turned back to the rest of the lunch table, “anyways you’re all coming.”

drew blinked at him, “i’m going to the dance. and so is annabeth and percy.”

leo sighed at her, “i know that drew. you are obviously gonna get it at the dance with thalia grace, but then thalia is going to drive you and annabeth and percy back to jason’s once you all get bored of the rest of our school. you know, all the people you hate?”

“uh,” percy said. “this is all news to me.”

“well,” said jason. “dances suck and i’m ordering cake pops and having a bonfire and thalia’s apparently my missing sister who happened to find me and she wanted to host a party with us so we’re having a party and you’re all coming.”

ASK ATHENA

dear athena,

um. wow. thanks? jason and i don’t really care about anonymity anymore - we’re too busy going out. thanks for letting us know we we were both being dumb. i was lonely in love and he thought he was average and boring but now we’re the cutest couple in school! ask athena verified dating service everyone!

leo and jason

dear leo and jason,

congrats! to the rest of the school, this is not a dating service and you don’t understand how happy i am that i don’t have these too pining in the mailbox anymore.

athena

thalia picked her up for the dance in her motorcycle. thalia wanted to get more use out of it and piper liked the idea of wearing a fancy dress on a bike. her dad was not having so much fun with it all, but the school wasn’t far away so he just watched them leave anxiously after getting pictures.

when piper had been over at thalia’s place on saturday thalia had asked her to the dance. thalia had never been to a school dance before, and she wanted to get as much of the high school experience in a week and a bit as she could. that’s why they were also having an anti dance right after. it was more punk, which thalia liked, and it was at her brothers, which meant thalia got to spend time with the brother she hadn’t seen in years do to really shitty custody agreements.

thalia had asked her as friends, and piper had said yes because thalia was her friend now - somehow - and she didn’t mind doing her a favour. especially if it meant she could see the look on drew’s face. besides, piper had never actually gone to one of these dances before because she’d always been busy at the anti dances with her friends who didn’t get dates until this year.

piper’s classmates were all taking pictures as they got off the bike in front of the school, but piper ignored them. she let thalia throw an arm around her shoulders and they laughed at stupid dresses as they walked into the school. it took thalia about three minutes to ditch her for drew - which was apparently becoming a very real thing and was also apparently completely fine with reyna. piper didn’t really know what was going on there and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

instead, she danced with percy and annabeth and drank gross punch and defaced a couple decorations with grover - who insisted on recycling the broken decorations after - and then they got on the limo and went to jasons.

reyna was sitting by the fire pit on her phone when they got there. piper took a deep breathe, grabbed two cake pops, and sat next to reyna.

“hi,” piper said. “cake pop?”

reyna looked up from her phone and giggled, taking one, “thanks. how was the dance?”

piper shrugged, “it sucked. you weren’t there.”

reyna’s mouth dropped open. “oh.”

“yeah,” piper said, she was a little nervous but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “so uh. i’ve liked you for a while, haha. and um. do you want to go out?”

reyna’s face broke out into a grin. piper had always known that reyna looked beautiful in the firelight, but it was still stunning, “yeah i wanna go out. i’ve wanted to ask you out since we were kids, but i didn’t think you liked me.”

piper stared at her, “i’ve been trying to figure out what you’ve been reading on your phone all year because i wanted an excuse to be next to you when i looked over your shoulder. i’ve liked you too since we were kids.”

reyna started laughing and piper joined in.

“it’s romances, by the way.” “what?”

“i’m always reading trashy romances,” reyna told her. piper stared at her and then started laughing harder, bending over not being able to stop. reyna put her hand on piper’s back and piper did her best to take deep breaths as she calmed down.

as she sat back up they smiled at each other and reyna leaned in and kissed piper’s cheek and they watched the fire. grover and percy were daring each other dumb shit as annabeth watched and one upped them, and thalia and drew were making out and leo and jason were stealing bites from each others cake pops.

piper rested her head on reyna’s shoulders and felt the warmth of the fire on her face.

#pjofemslashweek2020 #pipeyna #piper mclean #teen idol!au #rey's writering #why do i keep writing so much!!!!!!

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Some Sense of Normalcy ch.1 (baon)

Summary: It's Edge's first day back to work at the Embassy, but his job isn't the only thing on his mind.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Past Injury

~~*~~

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read Chapter 1 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge’s internal clock was accurate to nearly the minute. It was a rare day that his alarm actually woke him; normally he was awake minutes beforehand to shut it off before it could buzz and Stretch often teased him about it, asking why he even bothered to set it. Such was the difference between someone who never wanted to oversleep versus one who was committed to it.

Today was no exception to the alarm rule; being off work for a short time hadn’t reset his internal clock now that it was the day for him to return. But for once, Edge wasn’t reaching for his phone. Instead, he kept his sockets closed, his focus entirely on the warm, skeletal body snugged in his arms, as if perhaps he could draw out time and stay here in his bed with Stretch for a little longer.

Unexpectedly, the one to stir first was not him. Stretch let out a sleepy sigh and mumbled, “you’re gonna be late.”

“No, I won’t.”

“yeah, you will. unless you’re gonna skip a shower and coffee, and we both know what kind of mistake that would be.”

Yes, the kind that would make everyone else in the office suffer, either from surliness or stench. Edge wasn’t quite ready to concede the point and nuzzled a kiss against the top of Stretch’s skull. “The person in charge is never late.”

A soft chuckle and Stretch squirmed at the ticklish touch, shifting until he could rest his chin on Edge’s sternum to look up at him. A chance to gaze at Stretch always made for a lovely vision, even as exhausted as he obviously was.

After their discussion in the kitchen, surrounded with chickens as an impromptu audience, they’d stayed sitting together on the floor long enough for Edge’s leg to cease pulsing out operatic scales of pain and gone straight to a throbbing rendition of ‘The Marriage of Figaro.’ Once he’d struggled back to his feet, Edge had been forced to allow Stretch to handle the chickens, even Nugget in her planter, still nesting on her dubious egg.

Even through his discomfort, hearing Stretch joke that, ‘this isn’t usually what they mean when they say a bucket of chicken,’ sent a pulse of affection through him. Ridiculous jokes were always a good sign, for Stretch, if not for Edge’s sense of humor.

Dinner had been sandwiches, also made by Stretch, and they’d gone to bed early, and from the look of today, Stretch was feeling more his happier self. Except, appearances could be deceiving, especially when Stretch was trying to keep from being what he thought was a nuisance and what Edge considered giving loving support to his partner.

If Stretch was doing better, Edge wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, but neither was he about to let it come into the house and tromp all over their living room. Today was supposed to be his first day back to work at the Embassy and he’d stay home if Stretch needed him.

“How are you feeling?” Edge asked, seriously. He ran a gloved finger along the delicate rim of Stretch’s socket, lingering at the darkened half-moon beneath. Stretch leaned into the touch, his sockets falling half-closed.

“not terrible but not great,” Stretch said, frankly, with enough honesty to soothe some of Edge’s misgivings. “i have a video appointment with doc lee in a couple hours. i’m not feeling very public right now and she said if i was comfortable with it, it’d save me the bus trip downtown.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Edge said softly.

“oh, yeah?” Stretch raised a brow bone. “glad to hear it, since she also told me to tell you she can schedule your appointment whenever you like.”

Ah. “Of course,” Edge agreed crisply. He would call her later in the day, schedule his appointment, of course he would. He gave Stretch a last, light kiss than got out of the bed, taking a moment to retrieve his cane. “If you have a few hours, then why don’t you go back to sleep for a while, love?”

Stretch only piled up the pillows, propping himself up against them with a contented sigh. “and miss the show? c’mon, handsome, let’s see what you’re wearing your first day back.”

Edge stopped halfway to the closet and gave Stretch a look that stated clearly that he was a brat. Then he remembered, “I forgot to mention, Bruno stopped by yesterday.”

That wiped away a little of Stretch’s smirk, replacing it with wariness. “oh, did he.”

“Mmhmm.” On his side of the closet, a garment bag hung unassumingly and innocent. Edge stripped away the bag and brought out its contents unobscured, holding it out so that Stretch could take in the full effect of the kilt with its jacket.

Stretch’s sockets went wide, his pale eye lights flicking from the outfit to Edge contemplatively, surely already playing out a mental movie in that clever mind of his how Edge would look in it.

“Interesting choice,” Edge said lightly. He smoothed a hand down the fine cloth, picking away an imaginary speck of lint. “A little formal for work, isn’t it?”

It was and it would likely draw unwanted attention. But Stretch chose it, Edge would be more than pleased to wear it for him and take a few stares as his due.

“yea, think it is, actually,” Stretch said slowly. His tongue flicked nervously across his teeth, “not exactly the same standard you set with those power suits of yours. might be better to save it for a special occasion.”

Or rather, an occasion where Stretch could bear witness instead of one with him buried into his office all day. He hid the smirk threatening to reveal itself and zipped the kilt suit back into the garment back with only a twinge of regret. “Perhaps you’re right.”

And perhaps a private viewing could be arranged in the near future.

A more sedate suit choice later and Edge hesitated at the side of the bed. He had enough time yet for coffee, but Stretch was right, he needed to hurry, or he’d be late for his first day back. And yet— “Can I call you on my lunch?”

“ain’t it ‘may’ you call?” Stretch drawled. His smile was softer. “babe, you don’t need to ask to call me. i’ll pick up, okay?”

“Okay.” Then he gave into temptation, pushed Stretch back into the rumpled blankets and took a kiss, trying without words to express the depth of his love, his concern, all the emotions wound up tight inside him.

He couldn’t say if he was entirely successful, but the gentle reflection of love in Stretch’s briefly heart-shaped eye lights was a good start.

“oh, hey, before you take off,” Stretch got out of bed, unselfconsciously naked, and went downstairs, leaving Edge to trail behind him as he tried not to stare at the tempting sway of Stretch’s bare shapely pelvis as he walked.

Of all things, Edge did not expect Stretch to retrieve a rumpled paper bag, about the size of a lunch sack. He held it out expectantly. “can you take this to janice? we did a craft thing the other day and oscar’s wasn’t dry yet so he couldn’t take it home. figured it might be safer for his mom to carry it than for him to run with ceramics, anyway.”

“Of course.” Edge took the bag, carefully tucking it around the contents, and added it to his briefcase.

One travel mug of coffee and his laptop bag later, and Edge headed out the front door, cane in hand. He hardly made it down the steps before he stopped with a scowl.

Red was standing by his car, hands tucked into his pocket and a grin on his face. It made his hackles rise, particularly considering the way Red handled the situation with Nugget. He wasn’t unappreciative of his brother’s efforts, but he couldn’t truly say he was exactly thankful, either.

Edge stopped several feet away and well out of arm’s reach, a long ago lesson learned when it came to those who could teleport. “What do you want?”

“good to see you, too, bro,” Red snorted. He was chewing on a toothpick and that alone was suspicious, that he wasn’t smoking one of his horrible cigars. Confirmed when he added, “here to drive you to work.”

“No,” Edge said immediately. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.”

“yep,” Red agreed.

“The doctor cleared me to drive as long as the distance wasn’t excessive.”

“sure did.”

“And I’ve driven several times since I’ve had the cast removed.”

“i know. gonna argue with me in front of the honey bun?”

Sure enough, when Edge glanced behind him, Stretch was peeking out the curtains curiously and he knew damn well that the chances of him hastily snagging a raincoat out of the front closet and coming out to see what was the problem was dangerously high. The very idea of arguing with his brother while his husband stood by naked beneath a coat while their overly interested neighbors looked on made him stifle a shudder of pure horror.

Edge gritted his teeth and went to the car, putting his case in the back. He went to the passenger side and stood by the door, looking at his brother directly, meeting that irritatingly amused crimson gaze with his own. “Why do you want to drive me?”

To have Red look away first was inconceivable, illogical. His crimson eye lights slid to the side, a fleeting expression of discomfort grossing his face. Edge took a cautious step towards him, “Brother?”

“need someone to have your back. get in the fucking car,” Red muttered.

Wordlessly, Edge did as he was told.

Red drove with a combination of careless skill and blue magic, disconcerting and impressive at the same time. He wove through traffic and more than once, Edge bit back directives that would only open him his brother’s mocking. Backseat driving was a great deal more enjoyable with Jeff and far more likely to actually have results.

It was right after Red sped through the very tail end of a yellow light that he said. “you sure you’re ready to wade back into the shit?”

Edge gave his brother a narrow look. “Of course I am.”

“yeah? got that psych eval scheduled already, didja.” That was unexpected. For all that Red was more likely to sacrifice an arm to satisfy Papyrus’s obnoxious dog than to schedule a therapist appointment of his own, he’d never mocked or derided Sans and Stretch for doing so. In fact, he never really discussed it at all, less an elephant in the room and more a blue whale crammed inside, tail tucked behind its head.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Edge told him coolly, “but not yet. I’d planned on doing it today.”

“yeah, you do that.” It sounded suspiciously like an order. Honestly, this was giving him an entirely new perspective on Stretch’s irritation with his brother’s obsession with his mental health.

Red said nothing else as he drove, the irritating twang of the country station he’d chosen filling the silence. His brother dropped him off directly at the entrance, parking in such a way that allowed the car to act as a barricade against the protesters that lined the sidewalk across the streets. A quick glance confirmed that while some of the signs had changed in the aftermath of the California attack, the message certainly hadn’t. There were enough mentions of dust to make any person crave a glass of cool water and to give a Monster nightmares.

He turned away and went inside, leaning on his cane a little heavier than he would have preferred. His mobility scooter was supposed to be delivered today and as much as that was supposed to ease his travels, Edge couldn’t say he was looking forward to learning how to use it in the Embassy hallways.

“Morning, Edge.” The security Monster didn’t look up from the screens, most displaying camera angles from outside and in, and one showing what appeared to be reruns of ‘I Love Lucy’. A believable façade of disinterest, one that Edge knew was tested from time to time by his own brother. If hostiles believed security was lax, they didn’t put in as much effort to thwart it, it was a technique they’d used back in Snowdin on their own house and out in the woods against XP hunters, tricking them into bypassing the obvious traps only to step into the better concealed ones.

Details might change, but their techniques worked, no matter what Universe they were in.

Edge nodded in greeting and swiped his badge, heading to the elevators. By the time he was nearly to his office, a trek constantly interrupted by greetings and well-wishers, Edge was very much looking forward to using his scooter even if he made him appear like a castoff Tony Hawk impersonator. His leg was aching furiously and consistently, there was probably still some residual swelling from yesterday.

Once he was in his office, he could put it up, he told himself, even as he struggled not to be curt while another Monster offered delight at seeing him back.

The sight of his office door had never been such a relief and Edge only nodded distractedly at Janice’s greeting, limping into his own office.

He nearly fell to the sofa with a sigh of relief, propping his leg up on the arm. The angry throb of pain began to ease almost immediately, dulling down to bearable. This was starting to become a concern, he might need to—

“Edge?” He startled, clenching his fists against the sudden surge of his magic even as he cursed himself; he hadn’t even noticed Janice following him in. She stood just inside the door, asking cautiously, “Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”

Motherly concern surrounded her almost like an aura, her long ears high and alert. Edge almost refused, then changed his mind. “There should be an ice pack in the freezer, if you don’t mind?”

She retrieved it hastily and helped him settle it between the straps of the splint. The cold was immediately soothing, and Edge sighed in relief, letting his head drop back on the sofa arm. He opened a socket to find Janice watching him with the expected concern. She didn’t try to hug him, she was far too professional for that, but the urge was vividly obvious.

Edge reached out and lightly patted her arm, “I’m fine, the walk took more out of me than I expected.”

That seemed enough and relief filled her soft brown eyes, “Of course, it is a bit of a jaunt up here. Can I get you some coffee?”

“Please,” Edge said gratefully. Not only for the coffee itself but for a chance to gather himself without an audience.

She returned all too soon with a cup and set it on the table, saying, “I would have been by to see you at home, but I didn’t think you’d like an audience.”

That was one thing to be grateful for, considering the outfits he’d been forced to wear while convalescing. “I appreciate that.”

“I knew you would. Besides, it isn’t as if we didn’t speak enough between emails and messaging.” She straightened and professionalism settled over her like a shield. “Speaking of which, let me get your schedule for the day. It’s a light load to start, per Asgore, of course.”

“Of course,” Edge repeated wryly, “Ah, before I forget, here, I brought this for you.”

He pulled the crumpled paper bag out of his briefcase, handing it over. Janice opened it curiously. She took out what was perhaps supposed to be a coffee cup, if it were made by someone who’d had it described to them by Salvador Dali and then exposed the results to absurd amount of radiation. It was lumpy and lopsided, the handle managed to be both entirely too large and also positioned where it couldn’t be comfortable held. The colors could be best described as ‘muddy’ and worst as a visual nightmare rained down upon a ceramic that had already seen its fair share of suffering in its short life.

Janice held it up appraisingly and gave Edge an oddly gentle smile, “Thank you. You did a wonderful job.”

Realization hit and embarrassed heat rose in his face with the force of an explosion, spreading all the way to the top of his skull. “No, no,” he sputtered out, “your son made it with Stretch and the other children, I was only delivering it!”

“Oh, thank heavens,” Janice almost sagged in relief, pressing a furry hand to her chest, “I was worried you’d hit your head, too. It’s lovely, of course, but from you I’d expect something a little more…” she hesitated, and Edge raised a brow bone as she settled on “…precise.”

Fair enough.

“Yes, well, as fascinating as this has been, let’s get to work,” Edge said crisply.

“Of course, let me bring in your schedule.” She bustled out and while she was gone, Edge made his way to the desk, carrying along the ice pack. He settled it back into place as he sat in his office chair and the simple act of signing into his computer was nearly as soothing as the ice.

By the end of the day, his leg would surely be singing another tune, but for now, he was focused on getting back to work.

Back to normal, one painful step at a time.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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laurelwritesandstuff · 3 years

Text

Don’t Google Anything

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dying?”

“Excuse me...?” I looked at Lex with utter confusion. Dying? Me? And were those tears in her eyes...?

“Yeah,” she sniffed, pointing at my bathroom, accusation strong in her eyes. I looked over, but couldn’t tell what she could possibly be trying to say.

“Okay, I’m going to be straight with you here. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Bree. The signs are all there. I googled it!”

I gave her a deadpan look, “First of all, saying you ‘googled’ something does not make for a very convincing argument.” I put air quotes around the word to get my point across. “Second, what exactly did you google?”

She blushed red for a moment and seemed to stumble over her words, something very out of character for my usually totally composed and well-spoken best friend. “I...” she started, “I saw you taking those pills,” she admitted almost shyly.

My friend may have been more introverted than anyone I know, but she is never shy. That is far too cutesy for the professional, academic persona she had spent years crafting. But suddenly, I began to understand what was going on here. I remembered the encounter well.

***

It had been months since we had seen each other. Living halfway across the country from a person would do that to you. However, the time had finally come where we could both get time off of school and work to be reunited. Even better than that, I was able to fly to her home state and we took a road trip together!

The drive was long but pleasant. We stopped for snacks and the occasional roadside attraction (I was easily entertained, sue me), but we eventually arrived. That night, as we settled in for a well-deserved rest, I took out the familiar orange bottle and popped the little white pill into my mouth.

“What’s that?” I heard from behind me.

Startled, I turned around to see my best friend. I was sure she was asleep already. I tried to recover and quickly put the bottle back in my toiletries bag before responding.

“Oh nothing, just some vitamins. Gotta stay healthy, ya know?” Of course. That voice was more fake than the Twinkie she had tossed to me after a trip to the gas station around 40 miles ago. I had pushed it away with distaste, electing to sip at my water instead.

I tried to recover by yawning, which eventually became a real yawn due to our already long day. “I’m really tired, so I think I’ll head to sleep now. Early start tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, still looking unsure, but eventually conceded and pulled the covers over her head. Eventually, her breathing evened out, but I could tell sleep wouldn’t be finding me tonight. I looked over and thought about just telling her. No, that would be far too embarrassing.

***

“Are you even hearing me?”

I snapped out of my thought process, “Yeah, of course. Something about the 12 signs your best friend is secretly dying and keeping it from you?” I laughed in spite of myself, but Lex was unamused. “Sorry.”

“This isn’t a joke,” she scowled, “You haven’t been eating, you take pills from mysterious orange bottles that you won’t let me anywhere near, you’re not sleeping. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you never fell asleep that night. Every time I tossed and turned, your eyes were always open. Plus, you’ve been so secretive lately. That’s not like you at all...” she trailed off, her eyes misting again.

I need to put an end to this. “Listen, Lex.” Her attention turned to me quickly, “I’m not dying.”

“You’re not?”

“No, of course not. I’m healthy as a horse or at least on my way to that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her eyes suddenly widened. “So you are sick?” She began to panic again, but a soft hand on her shoulder seemed to calm her.

“No, not sick,” I pulled my arm back and chuckled to myself, “just fat.”

“You are not fat!” She exclaimed automatically with anger in her eyes.

My stomach rolled uncomfortably. There it was. I’d heard variations of this phrase from her for almost our entire friendship. You’re the perfect size. There are people out there way bigger than you. Just look at me! Some people are just meant to be a certain size because everyone’s body is shaped differently. I appreciated the sentiment. I really did, but sometimes I didn’t need comfort or reassurance. I needed a motivator, a workout buddy, a cheerleader even. The thing is: how did I say that to her without seeming like I was dismissing years of seemingly helpful advice and support?

I took a deep breath. “Lex, I’m taking diet pills.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t worry!” I held out my hands to reassure her, “It’s all completely safe. I got the prescription from a doctor after a thorough examination in the office. They just slow down my hunger a little. They don’t make me lose weight super fast, or make my stomach super small, or anything like that.” I listed things off on my fingers before giving another shrug in order to be as casual about this as possible; although, inside, my stomach was in knots as I waited nervously to see her reaction.

Lex started to nod slowly as she came to understand, then a look of anger overtook her face and I visibly flinched, especially when she hit my arm with unnecessary force.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, you deserve it,” she glared at me, but it lacked malice. “I literally thought you were dying. I googled how to comfort your terminally ill best friend.” A pout came onto her face. Another uncharacteristic look for her.

I giggled with my hand over my mouth to stop a full-on laugh from escaping. “You and google! Man, if your mom ever looks at your search history, she’s going to be seriously concerned.” Lex looked at me before bursting out into laughter, taking my fragile control with her.

After a while, we sobered as she turned to me saying, “So...why didn’t you say anything?”

I thought back to what had been bothering me before. “I just didn’t want you to be mad at me or say that it was ridiculous to use a diet pill.”

Understanding seemed to dawn on her face, “Which you would think if I did nothing but hound you every time you talked about diet, or exercise, or needing to lose weight.”

I nodded, not saying anything more, and burning tears threatened to spill.

“Bree!”

I jumped and looked up at her, bracing myself for her anger.

“I’m so sorry!”

Shocked, I muttered, “You are?”

“Of course! Listen,” she grabbed my arm, leaning closer to me. “I love you and I think you’re perfect,” she paused, “but I also know that I would love you at any size and if you want to lose weight, I think you should go for it. After all, it’s your body, do what you want with it. Didn’t we learn that enough in that Women’s Lib course we took?”

A relieved laugh shook through me as I pulled her into a big hug. “Thanks, Lex. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m going to try not to make so many comments like before. In fact, why don’t we go to the gym together sometime? Maybe there’s a gym in the hotel?” She pulled away to look at the pamphlet that listed the hotel’s amenities.

“Umm, Lex?”

“Yeah,” she didn’t pause in her search as she continued to dig in the bedside drawer. I stopped her with a hand on her arm. “This is our vacation. I don’t exercise on vacation.”

She wiped imaginary sweat off her brow with an audible sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! Hey, want to order a double fudge sundae from room service? I’ll bet if we pull our money together, we could afford it. Oh wait!” She cried out, “Is that insensitive?”

“I still eat ice cream sometimes, you dork!” I playfully punched her arm before pulling out the room service menu.

While looking, I hear a soft voice beside me, “I’m glad you’re not dying.”

I lay my head on her shoulder, “Thanks, bud. Now,” I turned to her with a grin, “extra whipped cream okay?”

#best friend #plus size #short story #fiction #diet pills #google #google is not my friend

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