Thinking about..Ex-girlfriend Ellie <3
[an: not an original trope, i cringed everytime i attempted to proof read so i couldnt..srry]
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who scoffs when you’re mentioned at all, but is all fucking ears, tilting her head back and giving the person a side eye,
“I mean..you can continue, not like I care at all but like, it’s rude to interrupt someone so..”
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who’s once paid some instagram tarot reader a good 10 bucks to see if yall were compatible despite not believing in it before,
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who’s bitterly venmo requesting her money back when the girl says no,
“Shit isnt even real, you scammed me gimme it back bruh”
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who’s definitely got a fake account to keep tabs on you, which might look, to the average eye, some middle aged woman who posts her food and her kids, with some biblical verses in her bio— when it’s ellie with some google found, random ass photos of people
“Im so fuckin smart..” she geeks, pumping her fist when you accept her follow request
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who’s looking down at her phone dumbfounded when she’s blocked on the account thr next day, throwing her hands in the air—forgetting just who she learnt that trick from..
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who’s even more confused when her door is knocked, you on the other side, phone in-hand with the same account pulled up,
“Er..that’s not me?..” She says awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck as she leans on her doorframe.
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who cries dramatically and is on her knees when you tell her with a strict finger to leave her alone, practically groveling at your feet in pure anguish as she pleads!
“P-please! You don— you don’t understand! You can’t!”
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who hiccups, eyes puffy with long lashes coated in tears as she wraps her arms around your calves—only you could ever have her in this state! I mean, look at how distraught she is at the sheer idea of possibly leaving you alone forever!
She doesn’t care in the slightest if the neighbors hit her with a noise complaint.
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who soon enough has you on her bed, in a warm mating press, breathy moans of never having you leave her side, telling you she’d rather die than ever have anyone else fill your shoes as your sloppy cunts kiss, wet noises echoing off the drywalls of ellie’s cheap apartment,
“C—cum! Cum, nee— need you so..o—oh! Oh, my god? Loveyousomuch, loveyousomuch”
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who’s an utter loser, pathetically feeling tears well up again as the idea of you getting up and taking your stuff after this hits— so she takes you for another round, this time with her 8inch strap.
It’s a disgusting mess, really.
Ex Girlfriend Ellie who you’ve got a twitchy mess as you use her so deliciously, quickly becoming overstimulated once more when she realizes she’s orgasmed like 5 times already; Milky fluids all over thighs as she ruts into you— fucking a mixture of your cums back into you with whats gathered around her strap.
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie is pretty much in another word from the pleasure, mouth ajar as her moans leave in pants— begging for a kiss as her rosey tits bounce a bit against you
“Ple—uh, uh! Please, just ‘wan a kiss, c—can’t, uhm!— can’t reach yo—ou!” She whines tiredly, her sweaty upper body leaning forward on your back, littering sloppy kisses all over you, cmon..give her a kiss :(
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who you eventually give into, giving a chaste kiss to, but she doesn’t return the same one back— instead, opting to swipe her tongue around and suckle your blush coloured tongue, bobbing her head up and down while the saliva gathers on her tastebuds, excess dribbling down her chin and splattering somewhere on the already ruined bedsheets,
“F—wuckin’ wa—ah..’wan you all..”
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who watches you sleep while she lazily licks at your worn-out pussy, humming as she probes a finger on the engorged clit— giggling when you sleepily swat a hand down to push her head away, but she’s latched on.
Ex-Girlfriend Ellie who, even if you move a thousand miles away from, will always be there because she’s yours.
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i like to think when annabeth and percy get married percy takes annabeths last name
i feel like the name “percy jackson” has so much history connected to so much trauma and it’s known by so many monsters/gods alike that he’s just done with it he just wants a new beginning and takes annabeths last name to symbolize that
maybe they name their first kid jackson giving that name a new meaning
instead of jackson the name following destroyer attached to a killer of thousands of monsters a hero of olympus twice over its jackson, maybe just jack for short, a baby something of life a kid who gets to grow up a kid rather then a soldier someone meant to live not told to die
i like the idea that no one really thinks that’s gonna happen maybe sally jokes with annabeth that she’ll be the new mrs jackson maybe people even talk about the power that name holds (literally lmao)
then during one of the nights their planning their wedding they’re curled up together percy’s head against her chest getting ready for bed and percy confesses how much that name has haunted him
maybe annabeth confesses that she’s always liked her last name and though she didn’t care enough to fight against the name change she’s more then happy to keep it
maybe she’s the first person to call percy by that new name that night, whispering it against the top of his head
perseus chase, percy chase, mrs and mr chase
maybe it doesn’t roll off the tongue the same way but maybe that’s also the whole point
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I KNOW YOU
masterlist | rules
❝ Hello can you do an Athena! Reader Percy Jackson but completely different than Annabeth she is smart yes but seems dumber than she is. She is a bit of the psychologist if the group she like trying to read other emotion something like that. But this time it was Percy who try to understand her and is like a pillar to her. She is a bit insecure about her being less than others of her half brother and sister but he want to reassure her please. ❞ — @hope92100
pairing percy jackson x athena!reader
in which percy’s here regardless of the pain
warnings feelings of insecurity (? idk if this needs a warning but just in case!!)
an set during mark of athena!!
on the radio . . . i know you (faye webster)
As a daughter of Athena, you’ve always been expected to know everything. Whilst others had powers of chlorokinesis or an innate ability to heal, your strength was meant to be your wit. And for the most part, that was true - Athena’s kids have always been the smartest. However, you didn’t feel like you fit in with your half-siblings. No matter what you did, you always felt lesser than them
When you’d first gotten claimed by Athena, you were surprised, but accepted it. You thought maybe the cleverness would kick in now that she recognised you as her daughter, but you stayed the same. Later on, you’d realise that you’ve always had wit, but you were simply absorbing other people’s opinions of you and turning them into your identity. It took you a while to unlearn that habit, but eventually, you did
Your area of expertise has always lied in the feelings of others. Your emotional intelligence is what got you through a lot of life as a demigod, and you had a knack for knowing exactly what a person is going through just by looking at them, always providing comfort and support when needed
Now was one of those times. Your boyfriend, Percy, had been missing for about 6 months, and you were finally about to head off to Camp Jupiter to find him. When you first found out he was gone, you were, of course, devastated. However, you quickly pushed those feelings to the back of your mind once you noticed everyone else. They needed you. So you smiled and you comforted and you told the younger kids of how brave Percy is and how he’ll definitely come back
But to you, it wasn’t enough to just be a shoulder to cry on. When Jason had gotten assigned his first quest, he’d asked Annabeth if she could come along - not you. Despite knowing you’re Percy’s girlfriend, despite knowing that there was a chance of finding him on the quest, he asked Annabeth. You couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Intelligence has always come naturally to your sister and, unlike you, she never doubted herself. She’d rejected his offer, rambling about having her own searches to do, but you saw the pitiful look she cast you
Then, while everyone was preparing to head for San Francisco, you could do nothing but guide them through their emotions and make sure they were all mentally prepared for the voyage. Again, it wasn’t enough. Annabeth was doing research on the Romans with the help of Jason. Leo was building a whole ship. What were you doing?
Being in Percy’s arms again for the first time in half a year, you never felt more complete. Your boy was back home to you. Deep down, however, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He’d remembered you, out of anyone in his life, you’re the only one who stuck. You didn’t deserve that title, not after you barely did anything to help find him. So, you distanced yourself. Surely, he’d be fine without you
Wrong. Percy noticed. Even though you’d been apart for so long, he’d never not notice any shift in your mood or behaviour. Your very being was etched into his brain. He could point you out in a room full of people without any of his senses. To him, you were akin to the very ocean that ran through his veins. In the end, he’d always gravitate towards you. No matter what. While you pulled away, he tried to tug you towards him
When he’d asked Annabeth if something had happened while he was gone, she’d told him no, and that you were probably just overwhelmed by it all. He tried to accept that, but he just couldn’t. He knew there was more to your situation
That very night, Tyche seemed to be smiling down at him, as he was fortunate enough to finally be able to speak with you alone. You were on the night shift, keeping watch in case any monsters decided to attack. Percy had woken with a start and itched to breathe in the salty air of the sea. When he came above deck, he was surprised to see you, having completely forgotten the schedule everyone agreed on
“Hey Y/N,” he said, startling you as he came over to stand next to you. You’d simply been staring up at the night sky, deep in thought, when your boyfriend showed up
Unable to hold his gaze, you replied, “hi Percy… how are you?”
He entertained your question, knowing the best way to get you to talk about your feelings is if he created an easy-going environment first. So, Percy told you all about what he’d been up to. His quest with Frank and Hazel, Octavian the teddy bear assassin augur, and the city of New Rome - where he wanted to grow old with you. Next thing you knew, you were laughing as if he were never gone
Once your giggles had died down, Percy asked the question that’d been weighing on his mind, “how are you, sweets? And don’t even try to tell me you’re fine because I know something’s up. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide from Percy any longer. As he held you in his arms, you spilled your deepest insecurities to him. How you felt absolutely useless in the months leading up to your departure from New York, which in turn led you to feel undeserving of his love. With every word, Percy felt the crack in his heart grow deeper and deeper. He never wanted you to feel this way. He wished nothing more than to have been there with you, to have talked your feelings out with you
Pressing a kiss into your hair, he said, “you’re not useless, Y/N. I don’t care what you think, I’m telling you now - you’re not useless. I’d say it for an eternity if that’s how long it’ll take for you to believe it. Do you really think we would’ve gotten this far without you? Honey, if you weren’t part of this quest, I’d still be wandering around Camp Jupiter thinking about when I’d get to see you again.”
You felt tears brim in your eyes and as Percy tenderly wiped them away, you realised he was right. Sure, you hadn’t helped Annabeth learn about the Romans very much, but when she broke down after being hunched over conjugations of different Latin verbs, you’d been there with a blanket and a cup of tea, reminding her that she didn’t need to be perfect and that the people of New Rome probably spoke English anyway. And when Leo was accused of betraying everyone by firing on New Rome, you’d defended him without hesitation, stopping the quest from failing before it even started. You also taught Piper how to properly use her knife instead of just stabbing everywhere and hoping for the best, and had given Leo the idea to take some plates from camp so that food wouldn’t be a worry
Percy stared down at you, and smiled when he noticed your shoulders relax and your eyes begin to droop, a clear sign of the multitude of nights you’d spent restless
There was nothing Hera could possibly do to separate the two of you again
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what if i told you that i've fallen? * ls2
[part one out of eight]
and what do you do when you fall in love with the person you swear is your best friend in the entire world?
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: u don't have to be acquainted with the original series to read and enjoy this i promise there's context here like i swear i swear i-
this is also A STANDALONE FIC OK THIS Is juST THEIR MEGA TIMELINE FIC WHERE whaT IF i entertained the idea of them ending up together xoxo <3
wc: 6.2k
(series masterlist) | (through the years)
2020
girls and guys can always be just friends for the rest of their lives. realistically, it isn’t that difficult to prove it: her friendship with oscar has always been the one remaining evidence that it is possible. and for years, her friendship with logan also told everyone that the phenomenon of ‘opposite gender friendships are impossible’ is simply a lie.
that was when she stepped out of her university campus one evening: a breeze blew her hair back, stray leaves swirling on the ground as logan leaned against the hood of his car. she felt her heart drop to her stomach when he looked up from his phone to smile at her.
suddenly her best friend didn’t seem like much of a best friend anymore. suddenly, she got giddy at the thought of sitting in the passenger side of his car; blushing when he put a hand on the back of the headrest as he reversed the car out of their parking spot. all of the things that he does have got a deeper meaning to them — is he doing that mindlessly or is she crazy to think that he could possibly feel the same?
truthfully, she has no idea where the feelings came from. up to now, she’d only ever seen logan as a best friend with whom she had several things in common. not to forget 1 of the 2 people who drove her around in their fancy cars whenever she needed them to. and not only that, one of the kids her parents let stay with them in their house during times they had to spend apart from their families back home.
“hey, feeling alright?” oscar elbows her gently.
the girl perks up slightly, turning to him with a wide smile as she blinks rapidly. “yeah, why do you ask?” she follows his gaze down to the untouched cup of mojito sitting on the table. she meets his eyes again with a sheepish laugh. “i just don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”
the sheer thought of having feelings deeper than the surface level for logan was enough to make her stomach churn.
oscar raises his eyebrow, glancing at the mojito again. “i don’t believe that.”
“i swear!” she shrieks, eyes widening as she waves oscar’s concerns away. “i’m just not feeling the club at all, actually.”
“really? but you’re usually in your element when we go clubbing,” oscar frowns, taking the mojito into his hands and starting to drink it immediately. it’s odd that she’s not out on the dance floor, creating a small dance party with random goers. “is something wrong? you can talk to me.”
she looks over her shoulder as the sight of her best friend on the dance floor with another girl greets her once more. it’s only complicated because she got him that girl the minute they stepped into the club. it’s what logan always teases her about being able to score him dates and girls even better than he could all by himself. she has this way of talking him up where girls immediately fall for him. it’s a power, even.
he praises her for that all the time.
as much as she’s convinced that this crush would never develop into something more than it is, it worries her. this one is different. she knows by heart because she’s never been kept up all night by anything before — not even her toughest days in school had gotten her this stressed.
racing, maybe, but nothing else.
and she knows she can’t talk to oscar about this. so she takes a deep breath and shakes her head again. “it’s nothing. i think i’ll just order some bar food.” she scooches out of their booth. “do you want any?”
“i’m alright, mate,” oscar grins. he waves goodbye to her, watching her disappear into the crowd. he turns to lily. “did you notice that? she was acting weird, wasn’t she? it’s not just me?”
lily nods, taking a sip from the mojito that the young girl left behind. “it is. we should try and figure that out soon before it gets bad.”
logan couldn’t tell you when he started seeing his best friend as more than just a friend. it came randomly.
the last time he remembered feeling normal about her was the night they all slept in his room the night before her first race in formula 3. someone was shivering and it sure as hell was not the guy sleeping next to him on the other bed with a blanket strewn over his shoulders tightly. when he sat up, he snorted when he saw the younger girl curled up into a ball as her teeth softly chattered.
he sighed as he got up to his feet, picking up the blankets that she’d conveniently kicked down to the ground sometime during her slumber. he would never have noticed if he hadn’t stepped on it, her stuffed animal lying on the ground, abandoned and betrayed by her after she discarded everything on the bed with her initially.
he remembers that he laughed as he lifted her arm, placing the stuffed animal under her arms. and he thought that she looked so adorable nuzzling her cheek into the plushie, falling into an even deeper sleep.
what got him was when he laid the blanket over her. she pulled the blankets around herself a little tighter, smiling in satisfaction as she felt her body start to warm up. “thanks,” she whispered before abruptly snoring again.
he felt his heart go heavy at the sight, thumping against his chest as she sighed heavily. suddenly his head starts to spin and he feels something he’s never really felt for anyone before.
and, oh, god. he needs to sit down.
he sat at the edge of her bed, scratching his head as both of his friends slept. he looked over at her and felt something tugging at his heart and he knew instantly that it was over for him and the way he looked at her.
he thought it was just a fleeting crush and something that would eventually go away. but it’s been 2 weeks and he still hasn’t been able to push away the nagging feeling in his chest. everything just leads back to the girl with the seemingly brightest smile and most hypnotising eyes.
it wasn’t long until he felt like he could burst from the way he felt. which is why he’s now sitting opposite oscar, at brunch, while they wait for her and lily to arrive from stopping by at a bakery not too far away. he’s bearing holes into oscar’s head, waiting to catch his attention, but the australian seems to be too caught up with what’s on his phone than his friend quietly breaking down across the table.
“oscar,” logan finally says, hand darting out to try and catch his attention. “mate, i need to tell you something. it’s important.”
“oh, you never really have anything serious to say.” oscar puts his phone down on the table, pressing his lips together. he folds his arms and leans on the table. “did you do something bad again? you have to tell her dad this time, i can’t keep doing that for you, mate.”
“no, no,” logan sighs, shaking his head. “i’m serious. this is serious. like, you can’t tell lily at all.”
“wha–“
“i know you tell lily everything, no shame in that. but you really cannot tell her this one.”
oscar furrows his eyebrows. “you’re kind of scaring me. how serious is this thing you’ve done?”
“insanely serious.” logan puts his palm on the table. “mate, i think i’m in love.”
out of all the girls that logan has ever been with, he’s never once said that he’s in love. or at least said it out loud. if oscar is hearing about it for the first time since they met years ago, logan must be pretty serious about this.
logan’s just never been the type to commit to anyone, more or less ever claiming that he is in love with any of the girls that he’s gone out on a date with.
oscar looks around, worried that the girls may have already arrived and overheard his friend. “you’ve never ever said that before. are you serious?” logan nods. “like for real, serious? you’re sure about this girl?”
“that’s the thing.” logan starts to play with the menu, opening and closing it as he tries to play off the severity of his feelings. “i don’t know. but it’s been bugging me for weeks now. i can’t get her out of my head.”
“it must be serious if this has been going on for weeks,” oscar scoffs with a small smile. “how long have you known her?”
logan contemplates telling oscar the truth. will oscar ever slip up and tell her about his feelings? and what will happen if it changes everything and he loses his best friends? literally, the people he knows are his ride-or-die.
“you have no idea the severity. it’s–“
“why are you hunched over whispering like a bunch of schoolgirls with gossip?” she snorts, patting logan on the shoulder as she slots herself in the empty spot next to him in the booth. “anything to tell me?”
logan shakes his head, moving in further to give her the spot. “nope, nothing.”
without anything said, oscar feels like logan’s already told him everything. typically, she’s always in the knows of anything feelings-related, or anything that has to do with a crush. and he knows logan doesn’t mind that lily knows. the arrows are only pointing at one possible person present in the room.
but it can’t be. they’re all best friends.
“ah, keeping secrets now, i see,” she hums, narrowing her eyes down into a suspicious stare.
“way to hold it against me, mate,” logan scoffs, picking up the menu from the table. he glances at oscar across the table who raises his eyebrows at him.
logan, already knowing that he’s caught on, just nods in devastation. in a way that oscar’s never seen him before and that in itself is concerning.
the feeling never stops gnawing at her when she lies awake at night in her bed. she tosses and turns for hours, biting her fingernails as she tugs on her hair in frustration.
her lock screen, a picture of the 3 of them at a track from just a couple of days ago, consumes her. she’s come to overanalyse everything: his hand placements in pictures, their text messages, the way he speaks to her, everything that he does seems to mean more than it used to. and it should not be this way at all.
he is her best friend, after all. and what would she know about crushes and love? she could have been a small percentage of the population that grew up without really having one. it’s not something she concerned herself about over the years.
of course, she allowed herself that one boyfriend when she was 16. but even now she knows that that was not love.
could this be love? surely not — not with her best friend.
not with the boy who moved into her house when she was 13 to live with them for some months of the year, then leaving to spend the holidays with his family in florida. it’s not fair that she is consumed whole by the thought of being his girl.
because when you grow up alongside people, you tend to know the worst side of them. especially when you live together.
but why is it that, as aware as she is of logan’s flaws and everything that made girls want to walk away, she still longs to have him all to herself?
she hears his voice mixed with oscar’s from the next room over. it seems that they are also kept up by something that doesn’t seem to concern her. should she join them for another sleepless night like she typically does?
but it seems to be almost crossing the line of the boundaries of late night conversations they seem to be having. she hums, dropping her phone next to her head as she rolls over to lie on her back.
she looks up at the ceiling and tries to map the past couple of years and how it’s led her here. her heart thumps in her chest as she thinks of the green eyes that have captivated her lately, breathing shakily as the urge to stare into it at this very moment grows.
but she doesn’t know that in the next room over, the older boy feels the same way about her. technically, all her tossing and turning, fears of losing him over feelings that are slowly festering in her gut, are all for nothing. because if she got up right now and just laid it all out for him, he would be okay with it. he’d welcome it with open arms.
not knowing if he feels the same is what scares her the most.
a knock on the door makes her jump, sitting up dishevelled as she turns her attention to the door. she should be asleep for her classes tomorrow — which she would have been if logan hadn’t taken up every inch of space in her mind — so if that’s a test from her parents, it’s over for her.
“it’s us.”
she scrambles out of bed, keeping her footsteps soft to avoid the notion of announcing that she’s out of bed. when she opens the door, it’s come to her surprise that they’re wearing jackets and pants. oscar holds up his car keys with a small grin. “we’re hungry.”
“i’ve got classes tomorrow,” she says in a whisper as she avoids logan’s stare that’s boring holes into her skull.
logan shrugs. “and you’re still awake,” he’s the first to walk towards the stairs and beckons his two friends to follow him, “come on, we were craving ice cream. thank god you’re awake.”
she looks down at herself, in her pyjamas and then glances over at her friends with furrowed eyebrows. “i’m not dressed to head out. could you give me like 5 minutes to change at least?”
“no time for that,” oscar frowns, “do you wanna get caught?”
“besides, i brought an extra jacket for you. your mum would flip if she sees one of your jackets was used, no?” logan stops at the top of the stairs, holding up one of his smaller jackets in the air to show it to her. “i reckon we should get a move before your parents hear you out of bed, dude.”
she takes a deep breath, her gaze softening at the jacket that’s held in the air. it’s not that cold out, so she would definitely do without a jacket. but the thought of being wrapped in a jacket that belonged to logan — with his smell and the whole shebang — almost brings her to her knees. and going to sleep with his cologne all over her? it’s enough to make a typically emotionless woman cry.
“mate, do you wanna come or not?” oscar whispers, still towering over her at her door.
she nods, slowly closing the door behind her as she tries to run silently to the stairs where logan is. “does it smell like you? cause that would be kind of gross.”
a lie: she literally wants it to smell like him. just so she can have a sliver of what it feels like to be his.
“nope. that’s clean.” logan smiles proudly, holding up the jacket with both hands, opening it wide for her to wear it. while normally it would be an issue if it smelled like logan (which is why he took a fresh jacket out of his closet), it’s all she wants right now — to go to bed smelling like him to replace the emptiness of sleeping by herself.
she slots an arm into the jacket, thanking him softly as she feels her cheeks heat up at the gesture. and this is what it’s like suddenly overthinking every interaction she has with logan. did he always used to do this or is everything amplified by the thought of her heart suddenly beating for him?
did his actions always have this romantic intonation in them and she was too stupid to notice, or has it always been this way?
she freezes as logan circles her, pulling the jacket down her shoulders before he zips it up for her. he tugs on it gently and pats her shoulder. “warm enough? i’ve got a thicker jacket if you need one.”
she shakes her head, eyes wide as she looks up at him. he doesn’t seem to notice; turning towards the stairs to make their way to the car. oscar walks past them and shakes the keys as softly as he can. “let’s go. i’m starving.”
she watches the 2 boys walk down the stairs, frozen in the ground at their interaction. she sucks in a deep breath as she tries to process everything: the way he was so close to her and how his gesture was so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time.
“mate, let’s go,” oscar scolds, beckoning her from the bottom of the stairs. “i’ll leave you behind if you’re not down here in the next 15 seconds.”
“okay, be patient!” she squeaks, jumping from her spot to rush towards oscar.
by the door, logan keeps a tight grip on the front door as he can barely glance at her happily jumping down the steps. the sight fills his chest with such warmth that he’s never felt before and even forces a small smile on his face that he doesn’t notice.
the gesture with the jacket took everything of his soul to do. it would be crazy for her not to notice the way his hands shook as he zipped the jacket up for her, his breaths shaking as he stood inches away from her. it’s odd because they’ve spent so many years together yet there is this sudden shyness that he cannot seem to escape.
surely she’s starting to catch on as well, right?
he doesn’t even notice that she’s passed him, muttering ‘shotgun’ as she jogs over to the front seat of the car happily. oscar pats him on the shoulder and shoots him a mean glare to snap him out of his trance.
“if you’re going to be this obvious, i’d be more shocked that she hasn’t caught on yet,” oscar mutters with caution before walking out.
logan drags his feet out of the house, slumping his shoulders when he realises that he has to sit at the back. he just shrugs before oscar opens the door to the driver’s seat. “you and i both, dude.”
“see you later, mate.” logan barely lands a pat on her shoulder before walking away, approaching frederik at the other end of the garage.
she looks at the shoulder that he didn’t even touch before her eyes follow the boy now jogging towards his friend. is she going insane or is logan avoiding her?
since they’d gone and grabbed food together 3 weeks ago, it’s been different. logan’s been speaking to her less, keeping conversations short and he barely even looks her in the eye. she can’t say there’s ever been a time that this has ever happened for this long.
she excused it for logan being busy initially, but 3 weeks is too long.
“hey, are you alright?” mick comes up behind her with a small smile and a hand on her back. “you’ve just been standing there for a good minute by yourself.”
“i’m… do you think i’m annoying?” she whispers, eyes wide as her brain goes at a rate it’s never gone before. she starts walking with mick and looks down, bracing herself for his answer.
“what? why would you say that?” he says softly, tilting his head. “did something happen? another reporter get on your nerves?”
she sighs, shaking her head. she looks over her shoulder again where logan walked off before and sighs again as she meets mick’s eyes momentarily. “no… i don’t know… i feel like oscar and logan are avoiding me.”
mick hums, looking around with eyebrows furrowed. surely she is just overthinking it, right? for as long as he’s known any of them, they’ve been inseparable. he can’t think of a time where either logan or oscar went without mentioning her once in a conversation.
it’s like their worlds revolved around her.
“i don’t know, mate,” mick slings an arm over her shoulder as they talk, “maybe just give it some time? it’s a busy weekend and you know they’re your best friends.”
she shrugs. “i guess you’re right. maybe they’re just busy.”
but she can’t just shake away the feeling of something not being right.
“i’m gonna tell her.”
“are you stupid?”
“what? no.”
“then don’t tell her.”
logan puts his hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he stares at oscar with a bewildered expression. “why not?”
oscar mirrors his expression. how stupid can logan be right now? “if she doesn’t reciprocate, then what are you going to do? we literally live with her. tell me what you’re going to do when you tell her you’re in love with her and she doesn’t feel the same way.”
the american throws his hands into the air. “i’m not in love with her!”
“it doesn’t feel that way lately!”
“i have a small crush on her. doesn’t mean that i’m in love with her, okay? and in my head, if i tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way, then it’ll make it easier to move on.”
“babe, i– crush on who?” lily tilts her head, walking into the room with a curious stare. “logan has a crush on somebody? i swear i had this same conversation speculating just 5 minutes ago.”
oscar turns around wide-eyed at his girlfriend. “nobody.”
logan sighs. “oh, lily’s not stupid. you know who i have a crush on.”
the brit blinks blankly at the 2 boys in the room. “no, i don’t.” she tilts her head as she threads the room cautiously. “am i supposed to kn– no way.”
logan nods. “yes way.”
“and you knew this whole time and you’ve been lying to me?” lily shrieks, smacking oscar’s shoulder. “why didn’t you just tell me?”
“so you could tell her and mess up our dynamic? no way!” oscar scoffs, scratching his head in frustration. “listen, i actually like living in her big house with her family. and i actually also like being best friends with her — she’s nice to me.”
“she’s nice to me too,” logan points out.
“that’s different — you’re actually in love with her.”
“i’m not in love with her!”
“you guys have got to start talking to her again,” lily mutters as she climbs into the backseat of oscar’s car. she inches forward and glances out at the window where the younger girl slowly walks over to them. “you’re killing her.”
logan turns around, shaking his leg as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “you’re asking too much of me!”
“i do talk to her!” oscar defends himself, throwing his hands into the air. “but i can’t keep a straight conversation with her without wanting to tell her that our best friend is in love with her!”
the urge to tell her gets worse every single time. she’s just blabbing on all the time oblivious to the fact that their best friend spends countless hours talking about how majestic she is.
“i’m not in love with her!” logan scolds, reaching out to smack oscar on the shoulder. he looks at lily and presses his lips together. “and i try to talk to her, okay? but it’s hard.”
and he really does, but she’s got this need for eye contact when she talks to people; it makes it all the harder not to start rambling about how she’s got him wrapped around her fingers currently. it’s just so unfair how she doesn’t know the effect that she’s got on him.
he can barely keep a conversation with her, his defences crumbling when their eyes meet, stuttering and losing his words. and for a guy like logan, feeling like this for someone is beyond his comprehension. it’s just not something he thinks he can get used to.
“well, you’ve got to keep it together! she’s been really upset lately!” lily mutters, smacking both of their shoulders.
logan sighs. “surely, it’s not that–”
the back door opens and the girl slides into her seat with a polite smile. “hi,” she greets them with a small nod. she doesn’t wait for a response before she puts her airpods in and starts to type away on her phone.
“i told you,” lily mouths to the two boys in the front seats, rolling her eyes as she sits back with her arms folded over her chest.
her jaw drops slightly, eyes watering at the conversation she was definitely not meant to overhear. she steps away from the doorframe she hid behind and slumps her shoulders. "you what?"
the two boys, engaged in a whispering conversation just seconds ago, widen their eyes as they turn their heads to the source of the shocked voice.
she had fallen asleep on her couch as they played video games on the playstation, and they had to have a private conversation about logan’s lingering stares and silent pining.
immediately, logan starts stuttering and flailing his hands around to come up with an excuse for what she could have possibly heard. "i- i mean.. like-"
"the girl you fancy is me?" she asks slowly, then turning to oscar. "and you kept this a secret from me the entire time?"
"no, just let me explain, god," logan smacks his forehead, trying to calm the girl down. "will you listen to me for a second?"
oscar presses his lips together and drops his head in disappointment. "i couldn't tell you. don't be like that."
"you guys made me feel like i was going crazy thinking you didn't wanna be friends with me anymore," she complains, stomping her foot into the ground. "i felt like i didn't even know you guys so well in the past month. i felt like you guys were pushing me away."
"what? no, please just listen to me. this is all my fault."
"i thought you guys didn't even wanna be friends with me anymore. all of that to find out that it's because you just suddenly realised i'm cute?" she bursts, giving logan a look. "seriously? you didn't notice that years ago when we first met?"
oscar lifts his head, his look of disappointment quickly replaced by confusion. logan also drops his hands, head tilting at her response.
he had a list formed of possible ways she could react if his secret ever came out. this was not one of them.
"pardon?"
"we've been friends for so long growing up. you think that i never had a crazy puppy crush on either of you?" she scowls at them, wiping the few tears that managed to escape her eyes. "get a grip, my dudes!"
"what?" logan screams. "you're telling me i've been in over my head for literally nothing because you've had a crush on me too?"
"had?"
"you've got a crush on him right now? and me before?" oscar exclaims in disbelief, pointing at logan. "and we never knew? seriously?"
she shrugs, folding her arms over her chest with a smug smile. "i'm just better at keeping secrets compared to you guys, i guess."
she turns on her heel and walks out of the kitchen. “you’ll get over it. trust me. i’m actually in the process of getting over my crush on you, lo.”
but she’s never been more wrong about anything in her life.
logan leans on his car, elbow propped on the roof of his car and chin in his palm. he taps away on his phone as he lazily enjoys the breeze of oxford while he waits.
“i thought you were going to be late?” she hums, tilting her head as she approaches him. she’s got his jacket around her shoulders and an eye squinted from the sun shining brightly above them. “i took all the time i could walking out of campus.”
he shrugs, pushing himself off the car and slips his phone into his pocket. “traffic cleared up a while back. where’s lily?”
she shrugs back at him with a soft giggle. she jogs over to him and wraps her arms around him momentarily before quickly pulling away. “thanks for picking me up, by the way.”
logan throws his head back with a snort, folding his arms over his chest. “did i have a choice?”
he knew better than to decline her wide eyes asking him to please pick him up from campus after an entire day of classes. that, and that fact that it’s just so difficult to say no to her when it came to things like this.
“very funny,” she laughs with a playful eye roll as she rounds the car to the other side. “lily has something on with another module. let’s head out to dinner, you and i?”
he grins and unlocks his car. “yep. let’s go.”
"what's wrong?" worry paints her face as he starts acting calmer than before. her eyes follow logan's hands, lifted up to her face as he tries to brush back her stray hair behind her ears. "are you alright?"
"have i ever told you," he pauses to trace a line down her cheek with his fingertips, "how pretty you are?"
"only when you're drunk," she whispers back with a playful smile. "did you ingest some kind of poison and you've only got a couple minutes to live? is that why you're like this?"
"no," he shakes his head. a small smile appears on his face, tucking a finger under his chin to lift her eyes up to meet his. "i just think you look very pretty. i don't tell you that often."
she admits she almost felt her knees buckle at his words and melt on the ground at his words. logan had never been a very outwardly affectionate type unless he's drunk, so while this is expected behaviour out of him, it's never gotten quite as intimate as this.
she's had him fall asleep with his head in her lap before on the couch, but never has he been this close to her while whispering sweet words at her.
"it would be weird."
"it shouldn't be."
"logan, are you alright?"
he doesn't respond. and she freezes in her spot when his hand drags along her skin, cupping her cheek as he leans down into her. and he would have done it. he would have kissed her but something stops him.
it could’ve been the sheer reminder that they’re supposed to be just best friends. just that, nothing more and nothing less.
he stops himself right as their noses touch and sighs shakily, holding himself up with a hand on her arm. “i’m sorry.”
she lets out a soft sigh and forces a grin on her face. she grabs his shoulders to stabilise him, “do you need to throw up?”
“i think so,” he mutters with a hand on his chest. he turns to look at her with a heaving chest and puffy lips. “can you help me back to the villa please?”
she chuckles, approaching him with her arms held out. “okay, let’s get you back, mate.”
she stands in front of the bedroom door, stuffed bear in hand with a soft huff as she awaits a response.
the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas and dishevelled hair. he blinks for a few moments before realising who’s standing at the door. “oh, hi.”
“i couldn’t sleep,” she sighs softly, pursing her lips and slouching slightly. “can i sleep in oscar’s bed?”
logan blinks. he tries to think of what oscar would say if he consulted the australian about what to say in response to her question.
his heart has a simple answer: yes, let her spend the night in your bedroom. but his mind, clearly going with logic, knows exactly the solution to avoid getting himself into deeper shit: maybe you shouldn’t let her because it will complicate things.
guess which answer logan chooses.
“yeah, of course.” logan takes a step back and beckons her into the room. “what’s wrong? nightmare? watched a horror movie all by yourself again and scared yourself?”
“yeah,” she grins sheepishly, climbing onto oscar’s bed.
lie. she couldn’t fall asleep at the thought of logan and her almost kissing a week ago on their trip to the bahamas. and since oscar’s not here to put a stop to their antics, she did the one thing she knows would put her to sleep, or at least to a calmer state of mind.
“oh, what did you watch?” logan giggles, closing the door behind him. “do you need me to turn the nightlight on again?”
she smiles, shaking her head. “just insidious. i got bored while i was doing my homework.”
“you should really start watching that with someone around,” logan sighs, walking over to his bed on the other side of the room. “you know how insidious gets you all jumpy and weird.”
“yeah, i barely made it to 20 minutes of the movie,” she laughs, sighing as she drops her back on the bed. she pulls the blankets up and tucks herself under them. “anyway, thanks for letting me sleep here tonight.”
“of course, dude.”
logan finds himself at her university campus once more, leaning up against the side of his car as he awaits the girl to meet up with him.
he hears heels clicking against the gravel of the university parking lot, making him raise his head in anticipation with a wide grin.
“aw, happy birthday, dude!” logan cheers, opening his arms to the girl approaching him. “how were your classes?”
she sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. “horrid.”
“you left before oscar and i could make you pancakes for breakfast,” logan frowns, squeezing her slightly as she stumbles into his body. “we’re going to take you out for pancakes instead.”
“wow, pancakes for dinner?” she giggles with a hand on her chest. “how lovely.”
“and ice cream,” logan beams with a grin. he gently reaches forward to take her laptop into his hands along with the bag on her shoulder. “because it’s your birthday–”
“where’s my gift?” she teases, hopping forward to rest her chin on his arm. she looks up at him with puffed cheeks and wide eyes. “you promised me a present this year.”
logan blinks blankly at her. he looks at the way she’s cosied up into his body and then back into her eyes. “it’s with oscar.”
she blinks, taking a step back as she realises how close she’s gotten to him. “so you got me a present? how sweet of you, logan.”
“you threatened me to get you a present,” logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes. he starts laughing along with her, shoving her things into the backseat of his car. “as i was saying, because it’s your birthday, i’m giving you 2 options: to drive my car, or to not.”
he flashes her his car keys, dangling them high enough in the air for her to not reach them.
“i’m getting spoiled this year with options,” she laughs, jumping into the air to snatch the key out of logan’s hands. “i wouldn’t turn down the chance to drive your car and send you into cardiac arrest.”
she walks around logan to run over to the driver’s side of the car. “don’t forget to wear your seatbelt.”
“i wouldn’t ever dare if you’re the one driving.”
gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo
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I can’t stop thinking about how every parental figure in Kristen’s life has failed her by prioritizing their other kids.
Obviously, her bio parents are racist assholes who raised her in a fundamentalist cult, and kicked out at 15, all because her parents were offended she was “taking her friends’ side over theirs.” Which she didn’t, what she did was ask for answers and tell them that Daybreak tried to kill her but they refused to believe her. Instead, they chose to make her homeless so she doesn’t spread the idea that her parents don’t know everything. Two years later, and they’re still doing the same thing at the diner.
Then there’s Jawbone and he’s Tracker’s guardian, and unlike Adaine, she didn’t get a speech about how he’d take her in, or what their relationship was, she just moved in with her girlfriend, and he was the adult of the house. And now that she and Tracker have broken up, he and Sandra Lynn don’t seem to have made the time to talk to her about what that means for her place in this family. Adaine came back from spring break to gifts for every birthday she had without Jawbone and adoption papers. Kristen’s mail from her school was going to her parents’ house when she lives with the guidance counselor.
Then, there’s the fact that when Sandra Lynn and Jawbone moved in together, she took on a role she clearly wasn’t ready for, as she was still repairing her relationship with Fig. Kristen had to be the one to finally snap her out of her self destructive spiral with Garthy and then Sandra Lynn asked her to keep it a secret. Meaning she wouldn’t be able to tell Tracker, the only person who has been meeting her emotional and physical safety needs, above just giving her a room to live in. (And we know this is true because part of the reason Nara and Tracker are together is because Nara doesn’t need those things from Tracker). And yes, Sandra Lynn apologizes to the whole group, as she should, for putting their home in jeopardy, which is a massive step. But she never talks to Kristen about putting her between the 3 people responsible for keeping her out of her parent’s house.
So Sandra Lynn calls Fig, “her only daughter in the world,” and Jawbone is only legally responsible for Adaine and Tracker, and neither of them, nor any other adult, has asked if Kristen feels safe or if she’s okay. Like I’m sorry, who the fuck is taking care of the cleric who’s god and teacher died in the same year, is going through deprogramming from a cult that wants her back, her first breakup, seeing her estranged parents and siblings again, and now being expelled on zero grounds despite working herself to the bone to make sure her party gets to go to college?
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You recently mentioned that you've been out since your teens. As a person who managed to overlook a shitton of signs and only realized she was bi in her early 20s, I am wondering how you realized you were bi and also how you found out bisexuality exists?
Sorry if the phrasing sounds weird, I only noticed I was bi because I stumbled over the term on tumblr in 2016 and was like "oh, that's possible??" and then my earlier identity crises during my teens due to feeling attracted to multiple genders and being like "I'm crushing on [female person]. Am I lesbian? Nah, I've also felt attracted to [male person]. But I can't be straight either because this attraction feels the exact same. Am I broken?" were suddenly resolved with the realization that bi is also an option and that I'm not broken due to zigzagging between heterosexuality and homosexuality, but rather just bisexual.
In retrospect, it's absolutely ridiculous that it took me so long, considering that as a kid I had crushes on Anna and Carter and Doctor from Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town, and Vitani from Lion King 2, and back in primary school, I used to go to the kids' section in the library and look at the first pages of a sci-fi comic which had one or two women get out of a lab or space station thingy and go bathe in the nude in the first few pages. I don't remember what it was called or what it was about, but tbh I'd love to find it and actually read it properly this time lol.
--
Horniness. The hornier you are, the easier it is to notice.
But also... well...
The 80s were all about combating the AIDS crisis and trying to get basic recognition of the humanity of gay people (at least in the US circles I was familiar with). The 90s saw the rise of a much more organized bi rights movement.
And then we backslid.
In the 2000s and 2010s, interest in bisexuality as a distinct thing fell off a cliff as far as I can tell. The "hey, it's not just cis gays and lesbians" energy moved first to trans topics and then to asexuality but without bisexuality joining the stodgy old guard.
The 90s were different. I was hitting my teens just as Anything That Moves hit its stride. I bought that shit at the bookstore. Yeah, this was the Bay Area, but they carried it at all the regular bookstores, not just the gay ones.
On Usenet where I spent a lot of my tween years, one of the big groups was soc.bi. I even spotted them having an in-person meetup in a restaurant in Berkeley where I happened to be having dinner with my parents. I didn't go say hi because I was like 14.
My big eureka moment, though, was on alt.tv.x-files when two groups were having a satirical argument about who enjoyed The X-Files more: people who got to lust over David Duchovny or people who got to lust over Gillian Anderson. Someone showed up and was like "Hah! I get to enjoy it twice as much as all of you! I'm bi!"
I was like "That's a thing????" I'd grown up with very liberal parents and lesbian neighbors, but like a lot of boomers, my mom was pro-gay and deeply clueless about all other queerness.
--
So the answer is unsupervised internet access in an age with no algorithms plus things like bisexual magazines actually existing.
RIP Anything That Moves.
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Little Menace
Request from the amazing @vivwritesfics "nando's daughter goes karting and is an absolute menace like her father lol"
Girl!dad Nando has my heart.
Fernando had always wanted to be a dad. When he and his girlfriend found out she was expecting he was thrilled. He couldn’t wait to take his son karting, teach him all about the world of cars and racing. That didn’t change his mind when they found out at her scan that they was having a little girl either. What he didn’t expect was that he would end up with an exact carbon copy of himself. Sure, she’d got her mothers looks but the personality, that was all down to him.
He wasn’t sure if he was proud of that or slightly mortified.
The first time he takes her to the track, she has no fear. She zooms round the track as fast as she can, taking the corners like a pro, not a care in the world. As she comes to a stop the first thing she does is run to her dad, letting him take off her helmet she smiles at him with a wide toothy grin. “Did you see me papa?”
"I did bebita. You were amazing!" he smiles back, as he squeezes her tight.
That’s when he knows she’s destined to be on the track.
He gets her into competitions, racing other young karters when he really starts to see his personality come out. She overtakes another young driver, pushing him slightly off track as she shows no signs of slowing down. She does the same a few more times until she’s out in front leading.
He cheers the loudest for her as she crosses the finish line, the little checked flag being waved as the other kids cross behind her. She pulls up, climbs out of her car and what she does has him internally cringing.
She begins to dance, wiggling her butt from side to side before she puts her little hands on the top of her helmet and dances wiggling her hands back and forth.
“She is definitely your child,” his girlfriend says, smacking his chest as she walks to go and get her child.
“Where did she even watch me doing that?” he mutters to himself as he follows to go celebrate her first of many wins to come.
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After a weekend that exhausted me, I am finally able to come back to this book. My reacts proved useful to remind me where I left of, who would have thought.
previously, on harrowberry the ninth:
this happened
also, harrowberry is courtesy of @lady-harrowhark
after which I suggested the following album cover as a representation of her
currently, chapters 14-16:
"The Mithraeum, the seat of the First Reborn! The Sanctuary of the Emperor of the Nine Houses, the bolthole of God"
I don't want to sound like gideon
I really don't
but I have to be entirely honest here
I read that sentence twice, at separate times
and neither of those times did I read "bolthole"
MOVING ON
harrowberry is settled in a room which was made for a lyctor that never was
I don't know if this is at all important but it caught my eye
I wonder what happened there
and I am, as we have established, fixating on very particular things
the emperor johnny bravo has a room that's described as a locked tomb, but harrow says that, unlike the other locked tomb, she's not interested to see what's in this one
on the one hand, I want to know what this guy's actually doing but, on the other, I don't care about what's going on in his intimacy
harrow is also surprised that he gets embarrassed
which I don't, because he should be embarrassed and ashamed about all of the stuff that is going on in general
I don't know specifics and I don't know details, but I know he's at fault
like we say over here, I've got no evidence but I've got no doubt
he tells harrowbean about the BOE
he says they hate the nine houses and that they have agents who turn planets against them
they got themselves a leader about 25 years before harrow was born, who made things more difficult for johnny man
let's bring back the timeline I'm constantly discarding and bringing back
we've been told now that: this leader showed up 25 years before harrow was born, they disappeared nearly 20 years ago and gideon was born 18 years ago in space to a mom who was brain dead upon arriving at ninth
there's also the whole eggs thing that idk if it has something to do with this or not but we're not totally throwing anything away here
we've moved from a cork board to a 3d model at this point
emperor johnny boo is blaming these people for not!dulcinea going ballistic
idk johnny man, you kind of fucked that up on your own I think, but go off, I guess
he also says that the BOE folks hate necromancers and necromancy
I don't wanna be making assumptions with little to no info (literally all I've been doing) but all I've seen so far is these people teaching harrow to kill planets
that's not what miss frizzle told me I should be doing when she wore the most iconic looks in television history
maybe if the emperor dressed like this I'd be trusting him more
emperor johnny also clocked harrow being a ninth kid smoothie
because harrow was doing theorems in the river and only one other person ever did that before
the person who founded the sixth
we're ok with the sixth because camilla came from there
when harrow starts telling him the smoothie story, the emperor says "This was...all so different...before we discovered the scientific principles" and proceeds to tell her that her parents basically did a mini resurrection
he says "I have committed the same act, and I know the price I had to pay" and calls her "a walking miracle"
to which harrow responds "I have just told you that I am the product of my parents' genocide"
emperor, my man
he says "nobody has to know" about the kid smoothie
there sure are a lot of things people aren't supposed to know or ask about over here in the emperor's bolthole
*me, high fiving gideon's force ghost*
he says the initials of BOE mean "blood of eden" and that Eden is "someone they left to die"
then he quotes shakespeare??? I think king lear???
“How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child”, that quote
I'm not super knowledgeable when it comes to shakespeare tbh but...ominous
he also says "once you turn your back on something, you have no more right to act as though you own it"
and harrow thinks "at the time, that had made perfect sense to you"
that's pinned under the "hope for later" category
NEXT CHAPTER
harrow talks to ice cube barbie in her dreams
ice cube barbie says she's died twice
THEN, AND THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT
harrow asks her if she has ortus's eyes or if her eyes are hers and what her eyes are like
and ice cube barbie says "she asked me not to tell you"
this is me, adding another thing to the "hopeful hints for gideon" shrine I am building
chapter 16
harrow asks yandere twin about her diary and she says it has been burned on her own orders
more hints for my theory of past!harrow knowing a lot and planning ahead
harrowcita calls lyctortus (name suggested by the reply gang, thank you reply gang) "the other one"
which could be "other" as in "other lyctor" or as in "other ortus", so it's fine either way
harrow is worried about not!dulcinea still being a threat
AREN'T WE ALL
AREN'T WE ALL
I SURE AM, ALWAYS
she should have been flushed into space
harrow thinks not!dulcinea is moving and yandere twin calls her "crazycakes"
then we start going a bit more in depth about augustine
I have come to understand that he isn't called "saint of patience" because he's patient
he's called "saint of patience" because that's what you have to practice when you're around him
good god, this man
he has the charisma of the fifth but the disagreeable nature of the eighth
here I am, making judgment on these people I only know like 2 representatives of, but anyway
he's like if magnus hadn't discovered a passion for baking and had instead decided his hobby was to be passive aggressive and thinking too highly of himself
his cav was his brother, apparently
harrow thinks he's hollow inside
he is absolutely horrendous to mercygirl
BUT, MOST IMPORTANTLY
he also alludes to not!dulcinea moving and thinks mercygirl is doing it
I don't know about this, you guys
two mulders in one recap is what you get when I have been forced to not read for a couple days
I think fox mulder represents my energy in these recaps
Augustine The Unpleasant mentions that johnny j has "spent the last 10 thousand years on a perpetual search-and-destroy mission out of, as far as I can tell, purely symbolic retribution"
great, that sounds fantastic for god to do
and that "I wouldn't set myself up as his replacement A.L. He doesn't need another bodyguard, and even she was significantly more lucid than you are" (you being mercygirl)
I had mentioned the possibility of ice cube barbie being this AL person, we still don't know, but this AL is "she"
let's put that in the 3D model
augustine calls chad a "nice boy", which tracks for him being a Senior Chad
he treats harrow badly, which we absolutely don't stan over here in the harrow respect corner
harrow obliterates him with a comeback and he calls her Anastasia (You were born in a palace by the sea / A palace by the sea? Could it be?) like the previous ninth
these people love comparing their old pals to everyone they meet, even if they supposedly didn't get along much
harrow also makes fun of yandere twin for being what gideon would call "a weenie" over augustine
then we get the augustine and johnny explanation of how to kill the beast
I am all for information but this whole thing gives me the worst vibes
basically he says the beasts (disrespectful name) eat planets like oysters and then keep the thanergy as armor
the beast can inhabit anything it's thanergetically connected to it via their death
like that which they kill
they travel as river projections
they have agents, which he describes like the borg in star trek
individual forms connected to its hive
the whole lyctor thing, having a necromancer's ability with a cav's training to take over the body, seems to be a key to fighting these things
because the necro part goes down into the river to do the thing and the cav can take over the defense of the body
this, I think, could be what we saw harrow doing in the prologue, the projection thing
but harrow's body isn't protected, because she's "lyctor lite"
because there's hope for gideon or so help me john
which might be why yandere twin was telling her she would not be guarded if she did what she was about to do
I am very intrigued as to what harrow will come to know to push her to do what she did
also, she got stabbed, so I'd like to know if she's fine
but we have 0 guarantees of anything over here in the mithrandir or whatever
the emperor's bolthole
god, what has gideon done to me
they say the point of the combat is to throw the beast's soul into the abyss and hope it doesn't come back
that's what I've been trying to do with not!dulcinea all this time
ALSO still no camilla
see you next time and thank you for not hating the length of these things ♥
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What would be things the batkids would have grievances with Alfred over? It's always about Bruce but the world doesn't revolve around him only, so let's look at another guardian/grandfatherly figure.
I feel like they all would be upset with Alfred for letting Bruce get away with most of the shit he does to them. Like how Alfred's supposed to be the one holding Bruce accountable, but he doesn't. And here's the list from least angry at Alfred to most angry at Alfred
Damian. I don't think Damian realizes how much of Bruce's behavior stems from Alfred being a pushover, and he worships both of them too much to actually see it.
Dick. In those early days, Alfred was the one there for him in a house that was too big, too still, and too empty. He probably started getting angry at Alfred during his early 20s, but then it was just Dick, Damian, and Alfred, and Dick kind of became Bruce, so he had times where he resented him, but he "grew out" of it
Jason. And I think he's only the tiniest bit behind Dick because he's almost pretty much in the same boat. Alfred was the only person there in a house that was too big, and when everything was too much, and compared to this Billionaire, Alfred seemed human to Jason. He probably took comfort in Alfred before he took comfort in Bruce. And then Alfred was the one who suggested Jason should quit Robin. And, maybe for a hot second there, (and I mean, a singular passing thought then never again) he blamed Alfred for his death, but Jason also has a plethora of parental issues, so he wouldn't blame Alfred. And this is assuming Jason is completely unaware of the way Alfred low key Shat on Jason's grave so that Bruce would feel less guilty, or whatever.
Then there's Cass. She's just way too good at reading people to not see the way Alfred's pushover tendencies are effecting the 'family' negatively. She wants to yell at Alfred to "Put his foot down." But she knows he won't, so she doesn't. And In a sense, she might just be the same as Alfred.
Then there's a gap, and Duke. He didn't really know Alfred for that long, if you really think about it. Maybe a year, tops? And the reason he's smack dab in the middle is because sometimes, Bruce will do something and Duke will be like "That... is kinda messed up. Who raised you?" and then he'll take it back bc he'll realize he's speaking ill of the dead.
Tim. I hate woobifying him, but Idk, Alfred was the one who gave Tim Robin. Alfred was the one who gave Damian Robin, and I feel like, Tim, Looking back would think "What the actual fuck. What I was doing as a teenager should've been Alfred's job as Bruce's Guardian" Maybe not currently, but after some time. Maybe when he's in his 20s or has his own kids or something.
Stephanie Brown. She's the Family Friend. She has a slightly outside perspective to all of this, and she's great at puzzles. She Died for Bruce's cause and that didn't stop ANYTHING. She's constantly listening to when any of the batclan members are ranting about Bruce, and his poor coping skills and realizes that it's all just a fucking cycle and it started from Alfred. Alfred was confused on the line of professional and parent and Parented Bruce by being a Butler. Which wasn't what Bruce needed at an 8/9/10 year old who just lost his parents. And that's why Bruce doesn't know how to Parent any of his children without making them some form of a hero. Because Bruce grew up with a boundary of professionalism separating him from any real parenting, and he needs that boundary while parenting his kids. Obviously Bruce has his moments, but those are probably from when he had REAL parents.
Steph tried explaining it to Duke once, and he understood PERFECTLY, but then Duke said not to repeat this to anyone else because they worship the ground Alfred walks on.
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Hello, Mike! Sad question incoming!
In the au where Nikolai is Soap’s bio dad, how would he react to his death?
First post mentioning Nik being Soap’s bio dad
———
Regret
———
He didn’t go with them when they went to spread his ashes in Scotland. He gave Price a part of them then took the rest, no one saying a word about him not being there.
Nik took them there, flew them out and told them about Soap’s favorite trail that they would go on when he was a kid. It was sad he couldn’t really name any current, something that would haunt him. Nik would have regret not doing more with his son outside of work. He should’ve been there more, tried to reach out sooner even though he believed his boy wanted nothing to do with him.
He will forever be haunted by that regret, that anger with himself for not doing more. But he couldn’t imagine the pain his mother was dealing with. Nik chose to be the one to tell her, even though it had been years since they last spoken in person. He felt so numb during it all as he went to her house — The house that Soap would grow up in without Nik being a part of it.
He knocked after a deep breath. Nik had to steel himself, ready for the onslaught of emotion that was to come from his ex-wife and the mother of his child. The look on her face when she opened the door and saw him was first shock, then anger, then confusion.
“Nikolai?”
“Linda.”
The crack in his voice made fear take over her features, every muscle visibly tensing as she gripped the door frame.
“What happened?”
Nik’s voice failed him for a moment, knowing what he was about to say will break them both. He hadn’t said it yet, out loud, of what happened to Soap, to their Johnny. He had heard it plenty of times before, almost immediately after it happened. He’s screamed, cried, raged — Every emotion he has felt. And now he’s settled at silent regret, and once he says it out loud, it’ll start all over again.
“Johnny’s dead.”
It came out blunter than what he intended but there is no gentle way to tell a mother her son is dead.
Linda stared at him without a change in her expression for five seconds before she started shaking her head.
“No… No-“
He couldn’t look at her, he felt a crushing weight shake him as he watched Linda’s world come crashing down under it. She clung to the door frame, chanting ‘no’ as tears began to stream down her face.
As expected, she turned to anger.
“You’re lying!”
“Linda-“
“He’s not- Why would you say that?! Do you hate me that much? To cause me that pain?!”
Nik said nothing more, he knew his voice would give out if he tried. He just listened to her yell, deny their son’s death, and cry. It was devastating watching the woman who he once loved, the woman who he had a child with, break. Her rage would melt away to pure devastation, and she would look him in the eyes and scream.
Then the door would slam, and Nik would be standing there alone. He didn’t even make it off the porch, failing onto the steps with a great heaviness before he broke. He didn’t scream like he did the first time, didn’t feel the intense overwhelming feeling of it all. He just cried, feeling like a true failure. A father who failed his child.
A child without parents has a name: Orphan. What is a parent who lost their child called? For Nik, no single word could ever describe what he was feeling, the hole in his heart that will never be fixed. There was no word for that. No word that truly showed that pain, no word that when spoken someone would understand it.
He would sit there, truly broken. And the door would open behind him, and Nik would tense as a hand lightly touches his shoulder. He turned his head to see Linda, drained of life. Her hand remained on his shoulder.
“I… please come inside.”
And he did.
Linda asked about what happened and they cried together. They were the same in that moment, they had both lost something irreplaceable. Johnny was gone and neither would ever be the same. He had expected her to bring up his career, repeat that old argument that he negatively influenced Soap and made him idolize the military and war. But she didn’t. She didn’t need to, Nik had thought it moments after he was sat down and told what happened.
That regret was a complex emotion. He didn’t just regret not being there for his son, he regretted him being the one putting him there. Johnny was so smart, Linda and Nik wanted him to go to college and get an engineering degree. Pursue that persistent fascination of the stars and space he had since he was a toddler. But Johnny didn’t do that, he wanted to be just like his dad.
Nik would forever have that hang over him, and Linda knew that.
Under Linda’s request they cremated him. Nik had made no objections, neither wanted to have a funeral. That is not how they wanted to remember their boy, cold and dead before them. She gave 141 some of his ashes, the rest was for her and Nik.
And as Price, Ghost, and Gaz made their way up that trail to those cliffs, Linda and Nik went elsewhere.
“He loved it here… told me he missed coming here with you.”
The house that Nik had owned when he still had split custody over Johnny was a place he had a hard time being. He never sold it or abandoned it. He maintained it but never lived there. He couldn’t, especially not now. That place was for him and his son. It was not a home without him.
The woods behind the house was Johnny’s playground, Nik would’ve bought him an entire forest to make him happy. But the fifteen acre patch of woodland was just enough for Johnny. The stream behind the house was one of his favorite places to go. He would try to catch fish or any small critter and bring them back to the house. It still flowed gently, even after all these years. The birds sang, the breeze was welcoming. It felt unfitting for the occasion.
“I remember that model boat I got him. Took us a couple weeks to build it and seal it… just so he could watch it flow down the stream.”
Linda sniffled before she reached into her bag and pulled out the small wooden vessel. It was more cardboard than wood, biodegradable. And it held what was left of Johnny.
“I was so mad when he came home for the school year with his new church pants torn…” Linda smiled sadly, looking at the tiny boat.
“I told him to change but he didn’t listen,” Nik spoke, smiling softly at the memory.
“He was a stubborn boy, nothing you could’ve done.”
Nik swallowed hard, looking away from the stream and into the trees.
“Nothing we could’ve done to change his mind,” Linda said softly.
Another breeze would sweep through the trees, birds singing another chorus of their wordless song and the stream would continue to flow and laugh. The world would continue spinning, no matter what.
Linda kneeled by the stream and Nik would follow. She would stare down at the boat before she placed it in the water. And the stream would take it. They watched it go down the stream, and for a moment Nik could see a boy racing alongside it, dirty pants and wild hair.
The stream would take him everywhere, just like the ocean and breeze will. He was always so free. And now he forever will be.
———
Is this canon to this au? Nah but it’s good writing practice. Little projection at the end
MWIII didn’t happen :)
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you and me found love (lost under the shade)
re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)
wc: 3.3k
18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying
read on ao3
title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina
a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D
not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.
i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3
please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.
-----
"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."
Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie.
You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now.
You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.
Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe.
You had shrugged, "give him my number."
He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside.
His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.
Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.
He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now.
He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately."
"That's great," you smile.
He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.
It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance.
You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine.
Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.
You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?
He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door.
"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back."
You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner.
You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.
You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot.
Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.
Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"
It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself.
What are you doing?
Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work?
Fuck.
You swallow harshly, "trying."
"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"
Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay.
You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."
He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?"
"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel.
"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?
"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."
"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again.
"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise.
You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead.
"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else.
He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."
"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways."
"You shouldn't."
"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care.
"Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight.
"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice.
"Yeah," he nods. "I do."
He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip.
"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.
"Make me."
"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker.
"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once.
With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat.
A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care.
Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you.
You love him.
You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this.
You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you.
You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat.
He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"
"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."
"Okay," he mutters.
You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it.
You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment.
You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away.
"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac.
His nose twitches. "For what?"
That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.
That I love you, but can't tell you.
"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."
He nods, "It's okay."
You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him.
"Take me home?" You request, you plead.
He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."
You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity.
The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom.
He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs.
He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.
The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off.
You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes.
"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft.
It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting.
"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"
"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."
You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed.
You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall.
You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead.
He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."
Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"
Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better."
He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face.
You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon."
He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."
You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this."
He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright."
You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold.
You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom.
Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.
The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it.
There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed.
Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new.
You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof.
You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.
His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside.
Could it be…?
You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight.
He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction.
"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it.
You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."
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If your still taking requests can you write an platonic Bruce and Damian x Female reader.
Summary: Reader is working at a coffee shop one day,until bruce takes his son Damian out for coffee and meet the reader that was taking their order. They start acting strange when meeting her because she looks like Bruce's late wife Talia(Damian mother). They end up stalking and kidnapping her.
Ooooo I love thissss. I'm inspireedddddd. Okay, imagine this:
You switched shifts with your work bestie. It was well worth the sacrifice, especially since it's an oddly dull day. Rain was no stranger to Gotham, but this storm is something else.
The door's blown open multiple times, the entire front nearly flooding in an instant until you shoved it shut. At least you have something to do now. Your mind wanders to what the hell you're having for dinner tonight. Should you steal a muffin before leaving and catch up on the show you're watching? Maybe a movie would be better, less chance of binging multiple seasons throughout the night-
DING
Turning around, you move to close the door, but you're shocked to see a large person (?) enter the store. The father is completely soaked, black hair flat against his head despite the hat he's wearing. Then he pulls his coat open, revealing a completely dry boy.
Your heart melts instantly. That's so adorable.
"Welcome in! Glad to see you survived the storm," you joke, hoping to lighten the mood. The poor man looked like he needed it.
"Barely," he smiles, placing his coat on the rack. "London fog for me, with milk, and he'll have-"
"I will have the same, but with oat milk. Whip cream on the side... extra whip cream," his son interjects. His father raises a brow. "Please and thank you."
"You are very welcome," you smile, crinkling your eyes so they can see it behind the face mask. You lean forward, pointing to the table in the corner. "That's the warmest spot in the front. I'll bring out your drinks soon."
"I didn't-"
"On the house, now go warm up," you say, shooing them both off. "You'll get sick."
The boy goes to roll his eyes, but they catch yours. There's a flash of recognition in his green orbs, a hint of sadness dripping into it before he recovers. He nods dutifully and sits in the corner.
His father on the other hand stays put. He places a twenty in the tip jar, and you can only huff out a laugh.
"Defeats the whole purpose of 'on the house' but I won't stop you."
He chuckles, "Consider it a thank you. Our driver's stuck in traffic and you're the only one open."
"I'm surprised you can see the open sign at all out there. I haven't seen a storm like this since the defrost from that Freeze attack a few years back."
"I remember that one, pretty sure we had to renovate the sewage system."
"It's a good one. We haven't had a bad flood since."
There's a lull in the conversation. You look to your right. His son's staring at you from afar, that same haunting look in his eyes. Your heartstrings tug at that. What does he see that makes you familiar?
"Your little man over there is looking lonely. I'll get these drinks started."
"I'll leave you to it."
He steps away, his stormy blue eyes lingering on you for a bit too long. He joins his son at the table, their conversation hushed. Not like you can hear it anyway with the rain.
The London Fogs... check, but your mask got drenched when water splashed all over you. That was your last one, too. It's fine, not like you'd be interacting with a lot of people today anyways.
Now, this last part is really going to make or break this kid's day. Grabbing a small dish, you take out the whip cream and create a HUGE swirl of it. He's going to love it.
Minding the still wet floor, you place their tea cups on the table. "Here you are, and last, but not least, your extra whip cream. Hope you like it."
They remain in the shop for the rest of your shift, waiting out the storm until you have to close. Walking back to their table, you collect their dirty dishes. "I'm closing early. You still have some time, but I hope your driver arrives soon."
You smile at the boy, but as soon as your eyes meet the man's you finally recognize him... Bruce Wayne? Man, the storm did a number on him if it rendered him unrecognizable.
He shakes his head. "Multiple accidents, everyone's stuck until the rain clears. How're you planning on getting home? I hope you're not driving."
"No, no, I don't think I can be trusted to drive in this city," you joke, taking a step back. "It's only a little walk."
"More like a swim today," the little one snarks, wrenching a snort out of you.
"Good thing I'm here 'til close."
The air shifts at that. You're not sure why, but the warmth from the vents disappearing tells you everything right before the lights go out.
"Great," you sigh, blindly placing the dishes back onto the table. "Give me a moment, let me check-"
You feel a sharp pain in your neck, stumbling into the next table over as the rain becomes deafening. All it takes is a simple shove and your balance is gone, the floor raising to hit you in the face. Or was it you falling into it?
"She looks just like her."
"Yes, Damian, she really does."
BOOM and I thought I couldn't write anymore. Couldn't really fit the stalking in here, but c'monnnn use your imagination. Bruce and Damian probably saw this as a chance to finally get you.
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ollie on thin ice(man) || ob8 (+ kr7) scenario
ollie bearman x raikkonen!ofc (ft. dad!kimi raikkonen)
EXTENSION TO ICE ICE BABY (SMAU)
ANOTHER RECOMMENDED READ: STOP THE WORLD I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU (KIMI R. SMAU)
Summary: It was the Formula 1 summer break, meaning that The Iceman’s two driving children, including his beloved Romania ‘Aroma’ Raikkonen, were home. This also meant that a certain Ollie Bearman would make his presence known to the Raikkonen household- which was unpleasant for Kimi’s part.
Content warning: Dad!Kimi being protective, Andrea Kimi Antonelli is addressed as ‘Kimi’ by the Raikkonens but is addressed as ‘Andrea’ in narration, humour, wooing, Ollie wanting to cry really bad, Antonelli x Raikkonen!OFC (Rooney)
Note: this might not make sense to most but… enjoy regardless xx read the recommended fics for more context.
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
For Kimi, it was never a problem to have people over.
He was retired and he pretty much had nothing all day but to spend some time with his kids all while his wife, the Academy Award winning director Vera Coppola, worked on days end while she travelled to New York for a week.
It was a life he loved to live, really.
To have people over was a usual case for the Coppola-Raikkonen household, as Kimi had three children that were at the age when friends and peers were important.
Kimi and Vera always thought that it was much better that they allowed their children to have friends over than having them go out and about at night— better be free at home than rebellious and endangered, right?
It was now the summer break of this year’s F1 season, which meant that his two children were also home and didn’t need to be travelling with their mum to wherever the next race was.
It meant that they didn’t need to do their schoolwork on the plane while their private tutors sat with them on the way to wherever.
It gave the two young racers the break they needed from competing, anyways. If there was something that Kimi knew, it was that his eldest daughter and oldest son had the same drive as him.
Though, if he was being honest, his son was more like him in terms of interviews and personality in front of the camera. But still… both were racing out of pure joy.
Thank goodness, their mother was a Coppola and Kimi made millions before this.
“Dad, Kimi’s here,” Johann-Lauri Francis Coppola-Raikkonen, or simply Jo, announced as the fifteen year old walked into the living room where Kimi and his two younger kids sat.
Andrea Kimi (whom Kimi was never confused with whenever Jo or any of his children said the name ‘Kimi’ as they addressed their dad as ‘Dad’) made his presence known to Kimi as he waved, “Good afternoon, Mr. Raikkonen.”
“Ah! Andrea,” Kimi nodded. “Nice seeing you. When did you get here to Italy?”
“Hm… We just got back from Nice two hours ago,” Andrea replied with a purse on his lips, “Mamma and Papa made sure I got here in time. I even brought an overnight bag.”
“Okay,” Kimi said with a nod, “Johann, did you clean your room?”
“Yes, dad,” Jo replied.
“Do you want me to order food later?” Kimi asked.
Just the mere utter of the words ‘order food’ had Kimi’s second daughter running from the home library to the living room.
“Dad? Why is it that every time Kimi’s around we always order food? Why can’t we order food when Kimi’s not here?”
Rooney Italia Coppola-Raikkonen, at the age 17, never once enjoyed the presence of Andrea. But that was because they were both at that age when pissing each other off was just a phase. Now here she was, complaining about Andrea getting a special treatment.
“Bwoah, he is a guest, Roo,” Kimi answered plainly. “Mama isn’t here right now, and I’m sure you’d like some pizza too, no?”
“For dinner?” Rooney whined.
“You can order off the menu and tell me later,” Kimi negotiated, making Roo jump excitedly.
“Nice,” Roo said with a grin before she glared at Andrea, “You suck, Antonelli.”
“Rooney Italia—“ Kimi was about to scold his daughter, but she had already sped off to the home library once more.
Kimi sighed, watching the two teenage boys head upstairs to Jo’s room. Kimi looked down at his little boy and his toddler girl. Both little kids were less of a menace than the older ones, thankfully.
Betty-Elina was suckling on her pacifier when she looked at Kimi and raised her comfort blanket up to Kimi’s chest level.
“Thank you, kulta,” Kimi told Betty with a grin. He turned to where his youngest son was.
Henrik was snoozing on Kimi’s lap, not even minding the noise that his big siblings were making just about now.
God. What a life he was living.
Somewhere in the mansion, rather down the hall of the east wing, was a quiet muffling sound of a girl who was speaking to herself. Well, Romania Eleanor was barely speaking to herself.
She was streaming. It was her first stream ever since F2 had gotten to her system.
Having to fight her friends to keep her second position before the season ends told her enough about how taxing racing could get. Thus she did the second best thing to racing and streamed cozy games to her fans.
Aroma, once she heard a knock and a creak of the door, looked over to see her younger sister Rooney. She paused her game, trying to see what the girl wanted all while her stream remained running.
“What’s up?” Aroma asked.
“Dad‘s going to order food,” Rooney started but was quickly cut off.
“Let me guess: Antonelli?” Aroma quipped.
Rooney huffed out, “As always.”
Aroma knew that the two, for some reason, hated each other’s presence. Or rather, Andrea Antonelli was simply amused at the one sided beef Rooney had with him.
But regardless, the ART Grand Prix driver chuckled as she nodded. Aroma said, “If Dad is ordering from Signora Leona’s restaurant, can you ask if I can have some seafood fettuccine Alfredo?”
“Got it,” Rooney raised a thumb up before she left the room.
Aroma watched Rooney leave and shut the door behind her before she sighed, proceeding to play her Animal Crossing as she spoke to her stream, “It’s like I’m watching a cringe version of enemies to lovers.”
Ollie Bearman was never scared of anyone.
Anyone but one person that wasn’t his parents: Aroma Raikkonen’s father, Kimi.
He’s heard stories about The Iceman and how he couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve him nor his children.
Sure, for most people it wasn’t a scary thought. But in some ways, the British man was involved with Kimi Raikkonen’s eldest daughter.
That alone was a scary thought. He’s had a crush on Aroma since they started racing together, back when Aroma raced around Europe while her mother Vera took her to travel. Ollie was a welcome face to everyone in the Coppola-Raikkonen household.
But god… People called Kimi ‘The Iceman’ for a reason, Ollie thought.
Kimi’s icy stares and cold demeanour were always directed to Ollie and no one else. Ollie knew the difference between ‘icy’ and ‘indifference’ especially when it came to Aroma Raikkonen and her ‘wholesome’ father.
News flash: Ollie called bullshit on Kimi being a sweet man. Kimi’s stare could burn holes and Ollie could rot on them— so much for being the ‘Iceman’.
Now here Ollie was in Italy, hoping to hang out with Aroma…
To sum it up: Ollie and Aroma had some sort of thing going on. One that Ollie wouldn’t dare show to Kimi because god only knows what the Finnish driver could do to the Brit.
Anyway.
Ollie patiently stood in front of the Coppola-Raikkonen home, his posture still calm. He had just rung the bell, now he was patiently waiting for anyone to answer.
He didn’t expect for the patriarch to answer the door, his brown eyes meeting Kimi Raikkonen’s blue eyes.
Ollie grinned and politely greeted, “Mr. Raikkonen-!”
“-You’re not the delivery man,” Kimi stated bluntly.
Well… Ollie stood there awkwardly and nodded, “I am not, sir. I am here for Romania.”
“…Bwoah?” Kimi asked, his head tilting as he watched Ollie nod in confirmation. “I was not told.”
“I- uh,” Ollie’s demeanour grew awkward and uncomfortable as he stammered, “She- she didn’t tell you?”
Now this could go two ways: The British driver would have to go back to his accommodation in Milan and wallow in self-pity because Aroma Raikkonen had completely forgotten about their plans during the summer break OR he would die in the hands of Kimi Raikkonen because Kimi’s daughter had forgotten to tell her father about the said plans.
Either way, Ollie knew he was screwed.
Kimi stated, his typical indifference seeping through his voice, “I can check with her.”
Ollie sighed in relief and smiled politely, “Thank you-“
Kimi had already shut the door on Ollie, making the younger man sigh and wait by the front porch for five minutes…
Then five turned to ten…
Then ten turned to fifteen. There was no sign of Kimi. No signs of Aroma either.
Ollie sighed and took his phone, trying to ring and text Aroma. There was nothing. So he did the next best thing and rang the only other guest in the Coppola-Raikkonen household.
“Ciao, Ollie,” Andrea Kimi Antonelli spoke from the other side of the call, in the background was a multiplayer game of FIFA.
“Hey Kimi, listen,” Ollie started and looked around while he spoke, “You’re inside, yes?”
“Yes,” Andrea said shortly as he let out a ‘Idiot! Johann!’ “Anyway, why do you ask?”
“I’m outside—“
It seemed like Ollie was distracting the boy from an intense online game with him and Kimi Raikkonen’s eldest boy Jo. Because the next thing that interrupted Ollie was a, “Andreaaaa! What did you do?!”
“Listen, if you’re looking for Aroma she’s streaming— okay, ciao!” Beep.
Ollie was on the verge of tears; Being left alone in front of the house of the girl he was wooing (supposedly) by her father wasn’t in Ollie’s bucket list this summer break. He could have sworn that Kimi Raikkonen hated him.
Now he did the last best thing: pay his way into the house.
[OLIBEAR8 HAS DONATED €5: “i just spent money so you can open the gate for me]
Aroma listened to her text to speech donation as she was preoccupied from playing her game and paused briefly. “Huh?” She asked and looked at the text.
She didn’t even realize who it was until she saw the donor. It was Ollie.
“Ollie..?” The moment she peered down on her phone she saw the countless notifications on the screen.
oli 🐻: hello 👋
oli 🐻: miss maam 🤓🤓 i’m downstairs
oli 🐻: if u see this i’m stranded downstairs. i can hear ur little siblings laughing at whatever ur father is saying
oli 🐻: if u see this i’m also prolly dead lmaoooo plz come downstairs
5 missed calls from oli 🐻
oli 🐻: aroma 😭 please i’m begging
“What the hell…” Aroma trailed off before asking aloud (particularly to no one), “Did Dad not even realize you’re at the front?”
But it seemed like she was heard by a certain individual who remained watching her stream at the front porch since he donated once more.
[OLIBEAR8 HAS DONATED €5: “he did but he doesn’t like me”]
“Oh my goodness,” Aroma muttered and paused her stream, standing up as she said, “Dad needs to stop with the Iceman act already!”
“Dad!”
Maybe her father had good intentions, Aroma thought, but she knew better. Her father might be reserved half the time, but it didn’t mean that he had a hidden agenda when it came to her dating life.
So much for being a ‘cool father,’ right?
♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne
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Omegaverse BTS
I was loving people's reactions to the final chapter but wanted to talk a couple of things the name of Steve and Eddie's kid and Tommy Hagan. Because in this 'verse he's so fascinating. Thanks for the comment @eyehartart!
I went back and forth on this so many times you have no idea. At first Dustin (as in Henderson) was their son because the only ones mentioned of the Party are Max and Lucas. So I thought why not be the reason Dustin is never mentioned is because he isn't born yet.
Then when I first started writing the sequel I wanted the whole party at the wedding. And after much thought, their first child is merely named after Dustin and will be explored deeper in the sequel.
Tommy, Carol, and Steve (Nancy and Jonathan, too, just not Corroded Coffin and Chrissy and Jason or Robin) all went to the same high school. All born to rich parents.
It was expected that Carol would be the omega and the two boys would be alphas.
Steve presented first and got tested 24 hours after his first heat. Carol and Tommy commiserating with him being infertile.
Then Carol presents as an alpha, so now everyone expecting Tommy to be an omega as Tommy and Carol are the top couple at school (after Steve and Nancy broke up).
He presents as an omega and then he too is infertile (actually infertile none of the other omegas you meet in the story who are escorts aren't golden omegas, just Steve.)
Carol immediately dumps him and starts sleeping around with fertile omegas.
Also, like Steve's parents Tommy's parents blew up when they found out he was infertile, but they did the golden test. So not only were they "saddled" with a "broken" omega they were out a lot of money too.
Tommy actually wanted to be a wet nurse for the elite, as his tough guy persona was just that, an act. He wanted to go into one of the other nurturing fields but his parents forbade him.
They were going to get their money back from having such a useless son.
They were expecting him to get at least close to Steve's million dollar cherry price, but only got a third that.
His parents were livid again. But they took their money and never looked back.
In the eight or nine years it's been since they were auctioned off, Tommy's parents have never contacted him. They made sure he got into the best schools for the skills he would need as an escort, paying for it out of his bid price. But he's never received so much as a post card from them.
It took him three years to pay off his debt while it only took Steve less than one year.
So despite all the training and everything he got, he was never as popular as Steve.
Resentment grew.
He stayed with Starcourt Services because he had to prove to Carol, to his parents, to the world that he was better than Steve. That if he just had more time, he could beat Steve as one of the top earners at the agency.
It never happened. The wage gap between Steve and Tommy grew with each passing year.
And then the events of the story take place and Tommy does not have a good time.
So when Starcourt washes their hands of him he becomes a teacher.
His first year is tough, but rewarding. Only on the last day Tommy gets told he might not have a job come August. And he just breaks down. A parent of one of his now former pupils comes in because she left her jacket in his class. The parent is a single female alpha whose bondmate died shortly after the birth of their daughter due to complications.
And she just helps him through it. Then over the summer she helps him get a job at another school and they fall in love. Since now he's at different school then her daughter Tommy doesn't feel like a conflict of interest and they bond.
Now that's not to say that all this justifies Tommy's behavior. Because it absolutely doesn't. But I wanted him to find a happier life outside of being an escort as sort of a "this job can chew up and spit out and you still be a person at the end of it all".
Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369
@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi
@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv
@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee
@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination
@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt
@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr
@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf
@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium
@lexirosewrites @lawrencebshoggoth @lingeringmirth
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I’d love to see a best friends to lovers/idiots in love with Noah. If you haven’t done it already
Everyone knew that you and Noah had feelings for each other; besides the two of you.
You thought Noah wouldn't cross the 'best friend little sister' line.
Noah thought you would never see him more than 'Nicholas' best friend.'
The two of you have known each other since he was twelve and you were ten.
As you grew older, the scrawny teenager became a strong musician. But on the inside, he was still the Noah you knew.
Your heart had always been his, whether he knew it or not.
He didn't but his own heart was forever yours.
"He doesn't like me. Not the way I like him." you told Jolly.
He rolled his eyes. "Y/N, you can't be that blind. He hasn't stopped staring at you all night. You two have been in love since you were kids."
You were at Noah's place for a get-together and while you sat on the couch with Jolly, Noah was hanging in the adjacent kitchen talking with Michael and Jesse.
"He's probably staring at some girl behind me. I'll never be more than Nicholas' little sister."
There was no one standing behind you.
"Y/N doesn't like me. I'm the last person she loves like that," Noah muttered to Jesse.
He pinched his eyes shut. "Dude, you can't be that blind. Whenever you walk into the room. Her eyes always find you. You've loved her since you were a teenager. You're twenty-seven now, you can't keep hiding it."
"I can't do that to Nicholas. His sister is off limits," Noah shook his head.
That was the farthest thing from the truth. Nicholas was rooting for you two to be together. So much so he set something up so you and Noah had no choice but to be alone with each other.
While you thought you were meeting everyone for lunch the next day, you were shocked to see just Noah sitting at a table for two. He was also as shocked as you were.
"Hey, am I late?" You asked while tentatively sitting down next to him.
He adjusted the sunglasses over his eyes, the auburn hair peppering his upper lip and chin. "You're right on time. I think we were set up to be here just the two of us."
You'd known Noah for so long but you can't remember the last time you two hung out alone.
At some point during the lunch while you two conversed as friends, some fans came over to ask Noah for some pictures and autographs. You sat off to the side, quietly watching. You didn't like how one of the girls got a little too close to Noah.
You couldn't say anything because he wasn't yours, even when she asked him for his number.
Not wanting to see if he ended up giving it to her, you left some money on the table for your lunch and were halfway back to your car when you heard him following close behind you.
"Angel, where are you going?"
His nickname for you made you halt in your steps, slowly looking back at him.
"I don't want to get in the way of you getting a date," you responded dryly.
Something twinkled in his eyes. "Are you jealous?"
"Did you give her your number?" You ignored his question with one of your own.
"No, I told her I was interested in someone else."
Your heart sank low and prepared yourself for heartbreak.
"I bet she's lovely."
"She is," Noah nodded while stepping closer to me. "Especially when she's jealous."
You scoffed. "I am not jealous!"
It then clicked what was going on and you couldn't hide the smile.
"You're talking about me," you said slowly.
Noah brought you into his arms and nodded. "I didn't think you felt the same until now."
"I didn't think you'd felt the same way either, angel."
"So what happens now?" You asked, hopping on your heels.
"I'd like to kiss you if that's alright," he breathed over your lips.
Your answer was you closing the distance, tasting his drink and lunch on his lips.
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DROP THE FIC OR IM COMING FOR YOUR KNEECAPS
ALRIGHT OK BUT I NEED IT TO BE KNOWN THAT I HAVENT WRITTEN ANYTHING SERIOUSLY SINCE HIGHSCHOOL OK
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Something is after me. I know it is, I’ve seen it. It looks like a man, but I know that it’s not. It…. It’s face is like a mockery of something human- like- like if you asked someone who has never seen a human to draw or model a person’s face, their smile. No… I don’t think any human would be able to get it that wrong.”
“And I’m not crazy, alright? God, y’all probably get that a lot here, don’t you? You people specialize in crazy. Not that I’m anyone to judge anymore, given the shit I went through before coming out here. I didn’t even know a place like this existed outside the Usher Foundation. I just…there’s some weird, crazy shit out there I guess, and when I heard about y’all, I figured I should probably pay a visit. At least let someone know before I die.”
“I know I’m gonna die.”
“I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Joshua Nelson, I’m originally from the States–Memphis Tennessee. Now, if there’s one thing you should know about Memphis, it’s that nobody in their right mind should EVER move there on their own accord, ‘cause you’ll either get mugged or stalked or both. I was born and raised there, so I never really got the choice during the formative years of my life. I’ve learned to live with it, though.”
“I worked retail in a gas station before…well, everything. It was a shithole. The kind of building where, no matter how hard you scrubbed and no matter how much bleach you used, the stains and smell of smoke would never leave. Instead just…mingled with the citrus of the chemicals. It paid the bills, though, and I was never witness to a robbery, so I couldn’t complain too much. The customers were docile and if I noticed anyone shoplifting, I kept it to myself. I wasn’t getting paid enough to give a damn.”
“We had regulars that would come in on a schedule and regulars that wouldn’t. People who were just passing through the city or visiting family or friends. You get all types in that kinda place, and if you’re placid enough to any asshole who’s having a bad day, everyone gets along just fine. There were a couple of regulars who were friendly enough, though, that I remember their names. Miss Kelly was an older woman, short and heavyset–she was one of the friendlier ones. We’ve got a lot of talkers in the south and boy did she make sure I knew every exact reason for what her kids were getting up to, or what was going on in a reality show she was hooked on at the time.”
“George Michael, a thin man in his 40s, maybe, always came in whenever he needed a new pack of cigarettes, I think he was a chain-smoker, cause he was in there a lot.”
“And then…then there was Hunter. Now Hunter was a younger man, maybe college age. A little older than that? Poor bastard was hooked on something, that much anyone could tell. He was gaunt, a little twitchy, you know, telltale signs of drug abuse. I could never tell what specifically he was on, but then again, it was never my business to know. I treated him the same as every other customer, we all knew he wasn’t gonna cause any harm, he usually came in for food, chips and hotdogs and stuff and he never caused a fuss.”
“I think… I think Hunter is dead.”
“One day he came in, I think it was a Wednesday or something cause it was slow that afternoon, and he burst through the door. Well–maybe not burst, but he came in the building like he was racing to get indoors first before someone else. The guy was usually jittery and, I’ll admit, a little shifty usually, but this was full blown paranoia. It startled me at first, his intensity, and he made a b-line towards the back of the store and ducked behind one of the shelves. Maybe not duck completely like ducking for cover, but it was obvious he was hiding. It almost made me expect the police or some drug lord to come storming through the door, but nobody else came.”
“Hunter stayed pacing in the building for a good 20 or 30 minutes, periodically lifting his head to crane his neck and peer out the window or the glass of the door. I checked once or twice as well, but if someone was out there, I didn’t see them. Eventually the guy calmed down enough to buy something and when he approached the counter with his bag of Doritos he looked almost like he was going to be sick.”
“I asked him if everything was alright, but he just shook his head and left.”
“I didn’t see him again for another week or two after that. Obviously I assumed the worst. I theorized that someone was after him and when he didn’t show up when he usually did it was more than enough to confirm my suspicions. Be it cops or some random person on the street, I couldn’t decide which fate would be worse, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel for the guy at least a little bit.”
“Hunter was almost completely out of my mind when I saw him again. I was surprised. By all accounts, it didn’t look like anything had changed about him. Maybe aside from the fact that his posture was way better than it usually was when I saw him, but other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary.”
“Business went on as usual and when he came up to the till with a liter of coke, I offered him a ‘Welcome Back’ and rang him up.”
“When I turned back to him, he was smiling. For some reason it was like a pit opened in the bottom of my stomach. I couldn’t understand why, though. It looked like Hunter–patchy, unkempt stubble, greasy hair, thin face, sunken eyes. His appearance had never bothered me before, so I was struck with confusion that mixed in with the undefinable, sudden sense of dread.”
“‘Thank you,’ he said as I handed him his change. And he walked out the door. It sounded like Hunter, too.”
“Hunter returned the next day, and the next. Each time he was polite and quiet, and each time he smiled when I rang him up. I counted his teeth. They were straight and flat. When I counted mine in the mirror when I smiled, I saw 17 or 18. Hunter’s counted 24.”
“Maybe he has a dental problem that I didn’t notice until now, I told myself. Human bodies are weird. Sometimes you have more teeth than usual.”
“The fourth day he came in a row, I saw his eyes and his pupils were…swollen, is the only way I can describe them. I know what people’s eyes look like when they’re high. This was not that. It was like they almost swallowed up his irises completely, and they were dull. Dull in the sense that the fluorescents overhead did nothing to cast any reflections onto them. It made me want to writhe and squirm whenever he looked at me.”
“I called in sick the fifth day. I knew Hunter would be back in that gas station to see me. I knew it was to see me. And I knew that thing. That..whatever it was. It wasn’t Hunter.”
“I guess a part of me was always dreading that day. I had always heard stories about people being stalked from friends of friends. It was only a matter of time before it happened to me, right?”
“I saw Hunter at the grocery store the next day, posture straight and face split open into that smile with too many teeth. I didn’t have the mind to be polite. I turned completely around and walked the other way, trying to fool myself thinking that he hadn’t seen me. I kept a pocket knife on me after that encounter. I probably should have been before, but hindsight is always 20/20.”
“Each time I saw him after that, it was worse. On the street to my apartment, his eyes were too wide and his grinning mouth was slightly agape. A crude facsimile of delight as I rushed past him. I stopped going into work when I started to spot him everywhere I went. Every destination no matter how far or random, he was there, grinning at me. He knew where I lived, that I had no doubt. So I went to a friend’s one night hoping to throw him off. Maybe I could move out and lose him. Lord knows I didn’t have the money to break my lease early, but I was desperate.”
“My friend suggested I call the police, but for some reason I was convinced that wouldn’t help. Cops usually only made things worse in that town, and I had a sinking feeling going that route would only waste my time.”
“The final straw was the second night I was crashing on my friend’s couch. I was exhausted, the past few weeks spent sleepless and paranoid and I was ready to finally pass out when I heard a light, rhythmic tapping on the window behind my head.”
“It’s just the wind, I thought to myself. A tree branch or something scraping against the glass. The exhaustion was completely gone, my pounding heart and pumping adrenaline overpowering any lame excuse that I would be stupid enough to be reassured by.”
“I didn’t move from where I lay. Tap. Tap. Tap. Came through the window once again.”
“I don’t know why I laid there for so long, unmoving, convinced that if I didn’t turn around, whatever it was outside would lose interest and leave. I really, really wanted it to leave.”
“I lay still for what felt like hours, every muscle in my body wound up and tense and ready to leap into action at any given opportunity. I was praying the opportunity would never come.”
“I don’t know how long it was when the tapping ceased, but it was long before I finally managed to relax. It seemed like my strategy worked. What an idiotic thing to think. Like I was a child hiding from an imaginary monster in the dark. Like the logic of not giving a stalker any attention so it would go away was sound. No. I think it was that false hope that landed me in this situation.”
“Because when that tapping came again, I wasn’t prepared to turn around. But I did. I turned around and what I saw in the darkness through that glass was… I don’t know what it was. I know it had eyes and teeth. It was grinning, but its teeth stretched well beyond what would be the borders of its face. God, I couldn’t see its face. I knew it was Hunter, though. It had those same lightless eyes that stared back at me every time I closed my own. Dead and dark and dull and staring at me–eating at me, wide and gleeful and spilling into the shadow that I could only assume was a part of the creature, itself. Its form took up nearly the entirety of the window, blocking the outside world. It didn’t move.”
“I screamed. I screamed and closed the curtains and I hid. This woke my friend of course, and she came stumbling out of her room, looking bleary but alert. I tried to signal to her not to go to the window or do anything or to call the police. Thankfully she got the message and the cops were there within the hour.”
“They didn’t find anything. Or anyone, for that matter. I left out the…the monster bit, because I assumed it might land me somewhere I really didn’t want to go.”
“They were about as helpful as I thought they would be. Told me to call them again if I noticed any suspicious activity.”
“I booked my flight here that very night. I wasn’t going to stay in that goddamn city with whatever the HELL that thing was. I don’t want to end up like Hunter. I don’t want it to wear my skin.”
“It will, though. I know it will and it scares me more than anything in the world. And I know I can’t escape it, either.”
“It followed me here. I saw it. It was still grinning at me and it was still. Wearing. Hunter’s. Skin. The shadow that was cast over it made it so I could only see the whites of it’s eyes....its teeth.”
“I don’t want to die.”
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