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spiderling-space · 3 years

Note

Could I please request MC as that conspiracy guy with the hidden mickey’s? I saw it on your prompts list and I am still laughing at the possibilities!

Thank you Rell for asking this when the inbox was open and finally igniting green light for me <33<33

I decided that this idea is too crack to only apply to numbered characters so this is going to be a mini-series and crossposted on AO3. This mini-series is based on this prompt I have.

There will be 9 chapters in total including prologue and epilogue. I can’t promise any update schedule, I go with the flow. A meme to summarize the fic.

Special thanks to @serenitystarrie for allowing me to utilize their perfectly organized Hidden Mickey Mouse locations.

The Prologue's Locations #1 and #2. Spoiler yourselves on your own risk.

Italics indicate thoughts

Everywhere I Go, I See His Sign

Prologue

No one could blame (Y/N) for occupying themselves with something else to stay awake during Trein’s class. It wasn’t their fault at all, there was just something in Trein’s voice that made people want to sleep. So they just tried to focus on everything but Trein and to be the only one who managed to stay awake in their friend group. At first, (Y/N) just stared outside through the window get got bored and started to count the bricks on the wall but there weren’t much to begin with and their endeavor ended quickly. Their eyes flicked to the bookshelf, it was impossible to read the titles from where they were sitting, hence that didn’t hold their attention for long.

Maybe I should start listening to what Trein is saying, I might learn something.

Not a minute later, (Y/N) was yawning. So much for trying… They decided listening to the professor wasn’t going to work out, in order to stay awake, they continued where they left off. On the top of the bookshelf, there was a purple globe and golden signs on the surface, curved lines and a couple of dots. I bet there are more than 10 dots on it. 1…2…3…4… (Y/N) stopped counting when they noticed an abnormality on the globe. There was a shape that didn’t follow the pattern, two small circles were connected to a bigger one. That’s strange… Everything is in perfect condition in the NRC… Maybe they didn’t notice something as small as that. Either way, there was no point of thinking about something as trivial as that. Though, it was way more entertaining than the history class.

(Y/N) poked Ace, “Shhhht, how many minutes left until the class is over?”

Ace opened his one eye and glared at them for waking him up. He took a peek at his phone told them that 13 minutes left then he went back to sleep.

13 more minutes… It seemed like they started the class hours ago and it still had 13 more minutes. As (Y/N) waited the time to pass, they kept glancing at the globe above the shelf as if the abnormal mark on it was calling for them.

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

Finally, the class was over and it was lunchtime. The gang went to the cafeteria and was waiting in the line, chatting about the assignments Trein gave after he saw people sleeping. (Y/N) was having fun at their expense because they didn’t get an assignment for being awake during the class. Ace, Deuce and Grimm were complaining about the amount of pages they were going to write, which was making (Y/N) crack. They turned their head to the side to conceal their chuckle. While they were turning back, a shape on the wall caught their eyes. There on the wall between the torch and the column stood the 2 small circles being connected to the bigger circle, just like the one they saw during the class. This one was bigger since it could have been seen from distance.

Before (Y/N) could dwell on the shape anymore, the line moved and it was their turn to grab the food. They dismissed the thoughts about the shape, thinking that they saw wrong. It was food time and there was no need to think about anything else.

After getting their lunch, the gang went over to sit at their usual table. “I think you should have gotten an assignment too, (Y/N).” Ace talked before taking a bite out of his meal. “You weren’t sleeping but you weren’t paying attention either. Right, Deuce?”

Deuce was in the middle of chewing his meal when Ace tried to include him in the discussion. He answered after gulping, “They managed to stay awake. I think that deserves an award.”

Ace’s face cringed, “Traitor.” He then turned to Grimm tp get his support. “C’mon~ You must agree with me.” Unfortunately for him, Grimm was too busy chunking the food down his throat, completely ignoring Ace who finally shut up after getting no support.

“I’ll help you pick up the books since I’m a supportive friend.” (Y/N) said cheekily, chuckling afterward. They really needed to go the library too. Grimm needed the books to finish the assignment and he wasn’t capable of carrying them with his tiny paw-paws.

Their stomach grumbled, reminding them to eat sustenance. After (Y/N) finished eating, they pushed their tray further onto the table so they could have space to put their hands on while they waited others to be done with their food as well. There, on the table, was another symbol, the 3 circles one looking almost identical to the others they saw. They openly stared at the symbol, tracing the outline with their fingers. Am I imaging things? The one on the globe could be a stain and the one on the wall could be the deformation of the brick. And this one… Maybe a mistake of the carpenter. Though, it is strange to see mistakes such as this in the NRC.

They must have zoned out too much because Deuce was tapping them on the shoulder. “Our next class is about the start.”

“If you want, we can leave you alone with the table. Seems like you are falling in love with it.” Ace quipped as he took his tray from the table and started walking to the trash.

“Jerk…” (Y/N) mumbled under their breath.

“Hey, henchperson!” Grimm was pulling their sleeve. “Carry me!” It was annoying that Grimm was giving them comment but he was small and cute so they didn’t mind carrying him occasionally. They allowed Grimm to climb on their shoulder and took both his and their trays to throw away the trash and put them to where the dirty trays are collected.

After putting the trays, they exited the cafeteria, then changed into the sports uniform in the locker room. The moment the bell rang, Vargas told everyone to start doing warm-ups, followed by 10 laps around the field and 30 pushups. (Y/N) held themselves back from groaning, not wanting to increase the number of laps or pushups.

(Y/N) was only human and not the most athletic person in the world and they doubted even the most athletic person could run 10 laps without stopping for a moment to take a breath. They sat on the grass, trying to adjust their breathing as they were looking around. They had to admit the sports field had a perfectly splendid sight with all the shades of green.

They were about to get up and continue on the track when they spotted a sign on one of the bushes. 3 circles again? It was dark green colored, standing out on the bushes. Was it always there or is my brain playing tricks on me and making me see things? They decided to check the sign from a closer distance to make sure it is real.

“(Y/N)! 2 more laps for trying to sneak away!” (Y/N) startled as Vargas’ voice boomed on the field. Damn it! They just got punished because the sign distracted them. “You will have two more if you keep standing there!”

(Y/N) knew there was no point in arguing against Vargas unless they wanted to add more laps as punishment so they ignored the sign and went back on the track. I will take a closer look after the class.

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

Unfortunately for (Y/N), they were too exhausted to move a finger, let alone have the energy to examine the weird symbol after the class ended. They just wanted to get back to Ramshackle, take shower, eat junk food and never get up from the bed but they still had one more stop to make, the library. Because of Grimm’s actions, they needed to walk more. God damn it… I can’t feel my legs.

Finally, they reached the library and began browsing for the book. Grimm started looking at the book on the computer and find which aisle it was located, meanwhile (Y/N) sat on one of the seats as they waited for him. Yeet, I hope we don’t need to get one of those floating books. What is even their purpose? Students would spend extra effort to see the title of the book and waste time. Or are they here for aesthetics? They sighed, lowering their head. What an unnecessary way of using magic… They had to admit the library was impressive, having all those books while looking at the endless corridor of the library. As Grimm was still looking for the book, they turned their attention to the other objects of the library. None of the lamps were in the same shape and the columns had different designs. One of them had frequent dots while the other more scattered dots. Their attention turned to the other column between Aisle I and II which had larger dots than the others.

Wait for a second… Is that? (Y/N) got up from their seat and stepped towards that column, crouching to see the sign better. Are you kidding me? Here too? Nope! This is just some random symbol, there is no way, it is the same one I saw in other places. Besides, all other columns have dots. Coincidentally, this one had two circles connected to a bigger one. (Y/N) was determined to just forget about it since they knew it would be a ridiculous idea for these signs to have a pattern.

“Hey Henchperson, I found the name of the book now bring me it.” Grimm ordered them as usual. Normally, (Y/N) would teach him some manner but they were too tired to care so they asked which aisle the book was in so they can grab it and go back to Ramshackle.

As soon as Grimm told them the number of the aisle and the book and the color of the book as well, (Y/N) didn’t wait for Grimm and just went to grab it. They were looking at the shelf numbers in that disorganized aisle. Libraries are supposed to be tidy and organized. Why is everything in this school so chaotic? And who even color codes the books?! This should be a crime!

“Alright green color and number 4…” They whispered faintly, looking at all the shades of green and number 4 then checking the title. After checking a couple of books, their attention turned to 3rd shelf. “Ah there you are, The Developments in the Last 100 years. Finally, I can go to my bed.” Whilst they were reaching for the book, the red book with golden marks caught their attention. The book wasn’t titled, having only shapes on it, that 3 circles shape was one of them. Maybe the book is about the meaning of this symbol. I’ll check it out after resting. They grabbed both Grimm’s book and the red colored one and walked towards Grimm. Together, they checked out the books from the librarian and head over to Ramshackle.

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

(Y/N) couldn’t wait to get read the strange book so that they would know they aren’t seeing unordinary things. As soon as they entered their dorm, Grimm dashed to the kitchen saying that sports class and the library made him hungry. They were also hungry and would never say no to some snacks. They put the books on the coffee table in the lounge before joining Grimm.

Grimm and (Y/N) brought their snacks to the lounge and sat on the couch, chatting while eating their respective food though Grimm tried to take what’s on their plate 5 times at least. After finishing their food, (Y/N) leaned back on the couch and stretched themselves out. Then they just looked around the lounge. It looked way more different than the first night they stayed there. Now everything was tidy and organized. Dare they said, it was cozy and the fireplace just increased the coziness of Ramshackle.

Hold up… The clock on the fireplace caught their eye and they got up to see it better. This age-old clock has that symbol too. I can understand the others since they are fairly new but this dorm hasn’t been occupied for decades. They wondered if there are more signs in the lounge so they turned around, their eyes scanning the room quickly. There was another mark in the lounge, on the painting hanging above the door. Hmmm, that could be the painter’s signature or something.

“Why are you acting weird?” Grimm asked after burping. Ew!

“Nothing nothing… I’ll just go take shower then nap. You do Trein’s assignment. I’m not going to lower my score because of you.” (Y/N) wasn’t going to tell Grimm about the symbols before they were certain that there was a pattern with it. Now they were going to search upstairs if there were more signs while Grimm was busy downstairs then took shower because the smell of sweat was killing their nostrils. “And don’t even think about slacking off or you won’t sleep on the bed tonight.”

With that, (Y/N) took the red book and headed towards their bedroom, putting the book on the small table near the armchair. Then they took off their shoes to not make noise as they searched the rooms for that damned sign.

Here I go…

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #ficlet #gender neutral reader

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idnek83 · 3 years

Text

Aid - Chapter 7/13

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - Island Mode, No Game Spoilers, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Grinding, Wet Dreams, Anal Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Anal Sex

Summary: Everyone is hot and half naked because of their beach vacation. Soda is horny and tries to do something about it. Gundham tries to help and does. It all gets a little out of hand.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Read on Ao3

This Chapter: Soda is getting very close to figuring out something he already knows. Soda does a lot of thinking, and a lot of sleeping. Hajime slaps him awake.

_____________________

Soda must have fallen asleep without realizing it.

There was a gentle knock on his door, followed by and equally gentle voice.

“My companion?”

His heart skipped a beat, his cheeks warmed, and his stomach dropped.

He wasn’t ready yet.

“Are you well?” Another knock. “Can you hear me, dear consort?”

Gundham sounded concerned, he couldn’t just ignore him.

“I-I hear you. Just… gimme a minute.” He swallowed. His voice came out raw and scratchy and he told himself it was from sleep.

Soda took a moment to run to the bathroom and check himself in the mirror. He looked like shit, but at least he was clean and didn’t look like he had just been crying.

Had he just been crying? What time was it?

He glanced at the window and saw that the sun was setting. Shit, he must have been out for hours.

He combed his hands through his hair and went to answer the door.

Gundham looked just as concerned as he had sounded.

“S-sorry man, guess I, uh, dozed off…” Gundham didn’t look any happier after hearing that.

“You failed to attend another of our meals, are you… sure you are well, my companion?”

Soda had to fight the urge to cry again. God he was acting like such a pussy today. And now Gundham just looked even more worried. Soda looked away.

Say something dumbass.

“Y-yeah, sorry man. I’m just-” a gross creep who might have feelings for you? A disgusting piece of shit who came while thinking about those maybe-feelings? “I’ve just had, like, a lot on my mind, I guess...”

Gundham raised a hand to his cheek, a gesture that was becoming quite familiar, and Soda let himself lean into it, just for a second. It can’t hurt if it’s just a second.

“I would be glad to listen, should you wish to air your troubles, dearest confidant.” Gundham’s thumb was stroking his cheek. It had been more than a second. He closed his eyes.

Soda’s thoughts were suddenly occupied by the things he had imagined while fingering himself; Gundham fucking him, and kissing him, and holding him, and loving him. Would Gundham really hear him out if he told him about all of that?

And what about everything after? He still wasn’t sure he could bring himself to really be with a guy, still wasn’t sure he could handle everything that came with that.

He opened his eyes.

Even if it was Gundham, he still wasn’t sure.

Soda moved his head away from Gundham’s hand and pretended he didn’t feel the same sense of disappointment he saw on Gundham’s face. He looked away, he was tearing up again.

“I-” He ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky sigh. “I just, I dunno man, I think I…”

He couldn’t do this. Not now.

He needed to think more, needed to figure out what exactly it was he was feeling before he could know what he was willing to risk.

“I guess I just… need some more time, y’know?”

Gundham gave him a soft, sad smile and raised his hand as if to touch him again, before hesitating and crossing his arms instead. “Take all the time you need, dear consort. When you are ready, I will listen.”

They both stood in silence for a moment, Soda wasn’t sure what to say.

“I… procured some rations from our meal for you. I thought you may be ill and unable to…” Gundham trailed off awkwardly and lifted a plastic bag which presumably contained some food. Soda’s stomach grumbled and they both laughed a little as some of the tension in the air dissolved.

“Um, thanks man.” Soda took the bag from Gundham and paused. Was this just a food delivery? Did Gundham want to eat with him? Or did Gundham want to…

He couldn’t decide which option he preferred.

“If there is naught else that you require of me, then I will leave you to dine in peace.” Well, there was his answer. He felt just as disappointed as relieved. “Please try not to miss another of our group feasts.” Gundham smiled at him before walking away.

The food was delicious. Soda wished he hadn’t eaten it alone.

–

Soda sat in his room for a long time, just thinking. Trying to take all the things Gundham made him feel and sort them into neat categories; were they horny feelings, friendship feelings, or-

Other.

He started with the easy stuff.

When Gundham touched his dick: horny feeling. Easy. Obvious. The way his heart sped up when he did it was just a normal horny reaction. The way he wanted to hold Gundham close when he did it, the way he wanted him to whisper those stupid, affectionate names into his ear and hold him closer still were-

Horny?

Maybe sex stuff wasn’t actually the best place to start.

Ok then, something else.

He started thinking of things that definitely just made him have friendship feelings. Times when him and Gundham had just been hanging out like the bros they were, times like when he had helped Gundham learn to swim and then-

Bad example.

Ok, then the time Gundham had shown Soda his hamsters. That had been a friendship thing for sure.

Yeah, Gundham had been excited, so Soda had encouraged him to talk about them, like a good bro. Then when Jum-P had come out and Gundham had looked sad, Soda had said some cheesy crap to cheer him up, like bros are supposed to do. And after when Gundham had let Soda hold Jum-P and told him he trusted him, but held his hands up anyways because Soda had been nervous, and they had sat so close together that their knees touched, and Soda had felt that strange warmth forming in his chest when he thought about how close their faces were-

That was… friendship? It was friendship, right? All those days ago it had to have been friendship.

Right?

Fuck.

When had those other feelings started?

He knew they were already there when he had fingered himself to thoughts of Gundham, they had been in the dream that had created the whole situation after all. So, before that.

The beach? He had wanted to kiss Gundham on the beach, and he remembered feeling… yeah, he had been disappointed when he realized Gundham wasn’t going to kiss him. He could admit that much. But, had he just wanted to kiss because he knew it felt good? Like, he didn’t exactly have a lot of experience, but what little he did have, he had enjoyed. Couldn’t he have just wanted to kiss because of that?

The way he had felt after though… That had been more than disappointment about not being kissed. That had been panic, the same panic he had felt after fingering himself. He knew what had caused that panic.

Before the beach then?

He remembered missing Gundham after the race with his other friends, remembered feeling so guilty that he had blown off Sonia’s offer to find Gundham with him. Had he really blown her off just because he felt guilty?

The hamster then? Had it been when Gundham had let him hold Jum-P? Those hamsters meant everything to Gundham, and he had just let Soda hold one. The warmth in his chest at that time, had that been…

But he had felt it before that, hadn’t he? He remembered pressing his head to Gundham’s door, embarrassed and overwhelmed because he had thought Gundham had invited him to hook up (had that really been why?) then turning to find Gundham so damn close.

That had been the first time he had wanted Gundham to kiss him, but…

The beach house? Had those other feelings already existed then too?

He remembered the shame of being caught, the rush of inviting Gundham to join him, and how god damned thrilled he had been when Gundham had misunderstood and suggested they get each other off. It had to have been after that right? After he had one of the best orgasms in his life thanks to Gundham and had decided to suck his dick as thanks. After he had seen how hot Gundham was naked, how cute he was when Soda blew him.

After that god damned pact.

Right?

It couldn’t have been before.

Soda had just accepted he was bi, he decided to celebrate by jackin’ it to some good old dude on dude porn, guilt free. He had been in a pretty specific mood, once he got to his favorite site he typed ‘Goth’ into the search and started looking.

Fuck.

Miss Yukizome had just announced they would be taking a class trip to a tropical island in a month. Soda had been psyched to see all the girls in bathing suits, but-

“Gonna let Gundham bring his rats? Dude’ll probably cry himself to sleep every night if you don’t.” He had meant it as a joke. He tried not to smile when Gundham had been given permission to bring his hamsters.

Fuck.

They were cleaning up some event, a banquet for investors or some shit. Soda had been trying to place a box on a high shelf but was just a few inches too short. Suddenly there was a body behind him, almost touching his back, and the box was taken from his hands.

“Didn’t ask for your help, asshole. I had it.” Gundham had just raised a non-existent eyebrow at him and taken over, placing the other items that needed to go on the top shelf without comment. Soda’s heart had picked up because he was angry. It had nothing to do with the sliver of skin being exposed on Gundham’s stomach every time he reached up.

Fucking fuck.

It was his first day at Hope’s Peak and he had never felt more out of place. He was nervous as fuck. A dog had run up to him and started barking, followed by a man in dark clothes. The man had a weird way of speaking, and Soda hadn’t understood at least half of what he said, but he had been happy to have someone to talk to. His chest had felt warm.

Fucking god damned fuck.

That had been more than a year ago.

He was so fucking stupid.

He needed to talk to Gundham.

–

He wasn’t entirely sure he got any sleep.

Sitting at the breakfast table with all of his way too loud friends talking over each other, he certainly didn’t feel like he got any.

He had come to breakfast and greeted everyone more or less like usual, before grabbing some food and taking his seat beside Gundham. He rested the side his face on his hand and willed himself to wake up.

He hadn’t moved much since then, and definitely hadn’t said anything.

He was glancing down at Gundham’s knee between bites of food, remembering how nice it had felt against his own last time they ate together. He wanted to press their knees together again, no one would notice…

“What?” Gundham’s raised voice startled him out of his thoughts. Gundham was staring at Nagito, who had just walked in. He must have said some weird annoying bullshit, like usual, judging by Gundham’s face. “Show me, mortal.”

Just like that, Gundham stood and briskly exited the restaurant, pulling Nagito along behind him.

Soda blinked and rubbed at his face in exhaustion. What the fuck ha just happened. He was going to ask Gundham to talk after breakfast, where the hell had he taken Nagito?

Why hadn’t he brought Soda?

Whatever. He was probably too tired to talk anyways. He gave up on staying upright and let his head fall onto the table, cushioned by his arms.

He dreamt of hamsters and a man who loved them.

There was a hand on his arm, gently shaking him. Soda grumbled and tried to go back to sleep.

The hand swatted him on the back of the head.

“Ow! What the fuck!” Soda sat up and turned to glare at whoever had hit him.

Hajime.

“Everyone’s done eating, dude. Felt rude to just leave you here.”

“But it didn’t feel rude to hit me while I was sleeping?”

Hajime shrugged. “You weren’t waking up.”

“Bastard.” Soda stretched. It was definitely a good thing Hajime woke him up, his back was already starting to hurt.

“So…” Hajime was staring at him expectantly. He must have done something weird in his sleep. Shit.

“W-what?”

“What’s been going on with you lately? Why’re you so tired?”

Oh, nothing weird then, but…

Soda sighed and let his head fall into his hands. As much as he liked spending time with Hajime, he had wanted to talk with Gundham. But Gundham had left already, and, really, Soda still felt like he needed to talk to someone.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Hajime quirked a brow at his question but nodded anyways.

–

They ended up near the beach, the same one Soda had found Gundham on after the race. Soda was still so damn tired, and, really, all he had wanted was some privacy, so he found a grassy spot under a tree and sat, motioning for Hajime to do the same.

They sat in silence for a while, but Hajime’s curiosity got the better of him.

“So, what’s going on Soda? You don’t show up to eat for a whole day, then when you do show, you just fall asleep? You doing alright man?” Hajime was trying to keep his tone light, but Soda could see genuine worry on his face.

“I’ve just… had a lot on my mind, dude. Been thinking a lot.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re not really my type.”

Soda glared at Hajime, Hajime glared at him.

They burst out laughing.

It felt good to just laugh with Hajime, and Soda felt a little guilty that he hadn’t been spending much time with him recently. It was always so easy to just be with Hajime, no need to worry about skipped heart beats, or tender touches, or-

Oh. Was that because Hajime was his friend? Those weren’t things that were supposed to happened with a friend. So that made Gundham…

Hajime noticed Soda had stopped laughing.

“Look, whatever it is you’ll figure it out, Soda.” Hajime placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled. Soda noted the distinct lack of tightness in his chest at the gesture. God he was stupid.

“God I’m stupid.”

“Well at least you’ve figured that much out.” Soda slapped Hajime’s hand off his shoulder and they both started laughing again.

He wondered if he should tell Hajime about Gundham. He’s probably be cool with it right? Afterall, he was cool with Soda being-

He hadn’t told him he was bi.

How had he not told Hajime he was bi?

He looked over at his soul friend who caught his gaze and smiled back.

“What’s up? Figure something else out?”

“No- well, yeah. But I guess it’s, um, something I figured out a while ago? I just kinda, realized I never told you?” He felt himself starting to blush, maybe he shouldn’t tell Hajime.

Hajime’s hand was back on his shoulder, he was smiling patiently at Soda.

Ok. He could do this.

“So, uh…” He took a deep breath and looked at the sky. “I’m bi?” He blushed harder, why the fuck had he made it a question?

“Yeah, man?” Hajime’s hand was still on his shoulder, he hadn’t recoiled in disgust or anything, so far, so good. “That’s cool. Thanks for letting me know.” Soda was amazed. He looked back at Hajime in shock.

“That’s it?” Soda had pictured his first time coming out of the closet as more… dramatic.

“Yeah? What else am I supposed to say? Congrats on coming out, I guess?” They shared an incredulous look and burst out laughing, both falling onto their backs in the grass.

“Thanks Hajime, really, I guess I, uh, just didn’t think coming out would be so… chill.”

“Yeah no problem.” There was a beat of silence. “Oh. And, um, same, by the way.”

Soda sat up “What?”

Hajime sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, he was blushing now too. “I’m also bi?”

“You’re… what? But you… what?”

“Wow, man, thanks for being so chill about it.” Hajime deadpanned.

“Shit, sorry man. I guess I just, like, wasn’t expecting that? Like I never guessed… huh.” Soda knew he was overreacting. He really had never thought one of his friends would come out to him. “But, thanks for telling me too? Sorry I was weird about it?”

Hajime shook his head and smiled. “Don’t worry, that’s pretty much how I pictured that would go anyways.”

Soda returned his smile and took a moment to process what had just happened. Hajime was cool with Soda being bi, and he was bi himself. Wow. So, they were both into dudes…

Oh no.

“Uh, Hajime? Just so you know, I’m not, like, into you, y’know? Sorry, just, gotta let you know…”

“No worries, I’m not into you either.”

“Wait, not even a little?” Soda was pretty sure he was at least kind of attractive. If Hajime liked dudes, then shouldn’t he be at least a bit into him?

“Not even a little.” Hajime rolled his eyes like he wasn’t crushing Soda’s ego.

“C’mon dude! But I’m hot right? Like you at least think I’m hot?”

“I told you earlier, you’re not my type.” He was smirking now. Bastard.

“Fine then, what is your type?”

Hajime opened his mouth to answer then froze, blushing and looking somewhere behind him. Soda could hear someone’s footsteps passing by.

He turned his head to see who it was.

Nagito.

“Dude.”

“Shut up.”

“Dude.”

“I know. Shut up.”

“But he’s so fucking weird!”

“It just fucking happened, okay? I know!” Hajime’s face was bright red as he hid it in his hands.

“God, you’re such a loser.” Soda punched Hajime in the arm and laughed.

He just couldn’t believe how perfect it all was; they were just a couple of dumb bi dudes who each had a thing for a really weird guy.

They really were soul friends.

Next Chapter

#Soudam #Soda kazuichi #gundham tanaka #Soda/Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #fic #My writing #Fellas is it gay to give a guy space when he says he needs time to think even though you're worried about him and just want to hold him unti #Fic Aid

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therappundit · 4 years

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Best of the 1st Half: 2020′s Best Rap Projects (*so far*)...

“I’ve had, the halftime of my life...!”

*record scratch*

2020, WHAT THE F**K. 😳

Ohhh what a first half it has been. If 2020 ended today, it would still be one of the most historic years in a century...and NOT in a pleasant way. Years from now 2020 will be studied for the long-term damage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the potential breaking point (hopefully??) of this country’s ignorance to systematic racism and the need for a complete overhaul of our police departments, and of course, whatever the hell comes from the November Presidential election....and, not to mention whatever additional ‘tbd’ chaos rings in the second half of ‘20 that we haven’t even heard about yet!? These are trying times, folks.

My whole life, I have tried to use humor and entertainment to help me with processing high levels of stress and anxiety. This year, that process has felt more daunting than usual. I am writing less and less, and often find Twitter to be too dark of a place for me to navigate. It’s anything but a fulfilling “escape”. Still, I am constantly inspired by all of the new music that fills my headspace during life’s precious little moments, and it really keeps me grounded in the day to day.

At the end of 2019, I wrote the below in one of my posts. It took me back to a special feeling that I had, at a moment when the future seemed more like an opportunity, rather than a worrisome question mark. I’m going to work towards finding that place again, and I wanted to re-share this because it speaks to how the love of any art can be a healthy reminder of what we have to be thankful for in our daily lives:

“Regardless of how you feel about this list, I hope that you visit (or re-visit) any one of these pieces of strong work and find the same level of enjoyment that I did. I loved so much rap music this year and I could not be more excited about what the future holds. On a personal note, in 2019 I found myself even more in love with my wife, feeling luckier than I have in a long time, more satisfied with my hobbies and passions, and above all else, more in awe of my child (and anyone that ever raised a child) than ever before. I became a father for the first time in 2019, so as my baby daughter continues to fill my heart, I am beginning to wonder what she will think of her father’s love for this art form that has brought him so much joy over the years…I suppose time will tell.”

This list is long, because I think the talent that went into these projects is worth your time (and I put a lot of thought into creating this list as well...I do not work in the industry or know anyone that does, and I do not have any real platform - I just do this because I love the music).

If you are an artist on this list, I want to thank you, because you helped me stay positive and focused on a brighter future that I hope will soon come to us all...because everyone has been through something this year, and we deserve better. So salute to you and many, many others. 🙏🙏🙏

- THE Rap Pundit

The “Rules” for my list of the Best Projects of Q1-Q2 2020:

- the album/mixtape/EP/project/whatever you want to call it had to be released this year, by June 26, 2020

- the project must have at least 6 songs

- these rankings are a combination of my own personal preference, my take on overall quality of the project (whether it speaks deeply to my sensibilities or not), and how the final product compares to other work from the artists’ peers that occupy the same lane/‘sub-genre’ of rap music

So here we go 👀...

1. The Price of Tea in China by Boldy James and The Alchemist

Sometimes the greatest albums are not the most ambitious or flashy, they are remembered based off the strength of artistic chemistry and execution. Basketball fans know the beauty of a perfectly timed chest pass to a teammate streaking towards the basket can be more impressive than a behind the back pass that’s simply done for the sake of showing everyone that you can do a fancy pass. Staying with that theme, The Price of Tea in China is The Alchemist doing his best John Stockton impression, serving to Boldy James’ Karl Malone, and by album’s end you realize that Boldy scored a quiet 40 points while making this rap shit look like an easy lay-up.

TPOTIC finds Boldy sprinkling every ounce of his Detroit seasoning into Al’s pot to yield one of the most Mobb Deep-esque collaboration albums since Mobb Deep was dropping albums. In turn, this project is not only Boldy’s greatest work, but it serves as a re-introduction of a veteran MC that is suddenly more relevant than ever. Much like what Freddie Gibbs and Madlib did with 2019′s Bandana, this project is a great lesson on what MC and Producer chemistry can sound like when both parties are 100% on the same page when it comes to message, tone, and aesthetic goals.

It would make sense that Boldy James would fall into the Griselda fold, because much like Westside Gunn, Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher, he comes from a city with a rich rap music scene that still struggles to reach the level of exposure that the NYCs, L.A.’s, Chicago's and Atlanta’s have basked in for so long. He writes from a place of “been there, done that”, showing a rich attention to detail that separates his street tales from that of his peers in the same way someone telling a story second or third hand can’t match the level of detail that an eye witness has saved in the memory bank. Boldy has survived both real world and music business challenges to rise from the ashes of “hey whatever happened to so & so, he was about to blow” conversations to reach a new peak in his mid-30′s. He deserved this suite of incredible Alchemist soundscapes (Al is deep in his bag here, delivering some of his most low-key impressive instrumentals in years), and like his super-producer buddy, Boldy is looking down at us from atop an already prolific 2020 at its’ midpoint.

I’m not sure anyone can match the chemistry that Prodigy and Mobb Deep had with The Alchemist, but in 2020, The Price of Tea in China delivers some of the most brutally subdued, occasionally humorous, stripped down rap records since P was throwing TV’s at us like he had nothing left to lose. If The Price of Tea in China isn’t holding the championship at year’s end, it still deserves to be mentioned as an impressive work by one of the strongest title-worthy unions running the pick and roll in the genre today.

2. Àdá Irin by Navy Blue

Okay let’s be honest: the “sub-genre” that is often referred to as lo-fi rap music (whether you consider it an actual lane or not, I know you know what I’m talking about...which I suppose proves its’ existence, right?), is beginning to suffer from the same affliction that all other sub-genres tend to suffer from once the word is out that this is “the thing” that the kids find trendy right now. A lot of folks in this lane sound *exactly* the same to the average listener. I’m not even the average listener, and I often feel that way. The irony that comes with being part of the sound that’s supposed to be bucking the mainstream clone machine turning into a mini-clone machine itself, means that the window is in danger of closing to avoid over-saturation of the artists that are already thriving between the gravelly, whisper-welcoming walls of Soundcloud URLs and Bandcamp EPs being slid to their heady fanbase with zero promotion. So with that all being said...why give Navy Blue a chance?

Navy Blue lacks the name recognition of many of his peers (for now), but he has now been thriving in the lo-fi pocket for some time as both a MC and producer, a young artist that’s closely connected to the lane’s most famous figureheads (Earl Sweatshirt, and to some extent, Mach-Hommy), as well as less heralded trailblazers like MIKE and the whole sLUms collective. Sure you can check out Navy’s Soundcloud page to get a taste of his work, but with this Àdá Irin album, we don’t just hear raw snippets of a freshly discovered unsigned talent. With this album we hear Navy as a self-assured solo artist, capable of sharing an inspirational song with the likes of Ka and sounding like every bit of the veteran next to the iconic soft-spoken lyricist. This is a very, very impressive debut full length album that showcases the best that the (sub)genre has to offer: some experimentation, jazzy loops, the diary-like intimacy of words that sit like dust on an old basement book shelf, and the raw emotions that come from working through love, pain and loss in real time. In 2020 there may be nothing completely new under the sun, but it’s the aesthetic choices that Navy Blue makes with every verse and every instrumental that make Àdá Irin feel like a perfect balance of beauty and sadness. If you want to dip a toe in this water but you’re not sure you can get into the mumblecore-ish world of MIKE, MAVI, Medhane or Earl’s work from the past two years, this Navy Blue album might actually be the perfect intro.

3. A Written Testimony by Jay Electronica (featuring JAY-Z)

Not a lot of positive breaking news in 2020...but when Jay Electronica surprised Twitter with a few cryptic Tweets back in February, implying that he was dropping an album (and Jay-Z would likely be involved), the rap game was set ablaze with excitement, skepticism, disbelief, and hope (albeit with some measured caution there as well).

This is something that fans, and arguably the entire rap world, had been clamoring for for a decade, many long since moving on believing that Jay Elec’s debut album had gone the way of Detox, sharing “1a & 1b” status as the most eagerly anticipated projects none of us seriously expected to hear.

Then it dropped....and then it went. In a Twitter-run rap world, quality is too often measured by how long a piece of art stays within the “trending” mix, as opposed to...well, whether or not it’s actually good! The truth is, A Written Testimony is not just good, it’s very, very good, and while it’s not the “Illmatic 2″ that some may have been expecting, realistically it’s superior to what I imagined a new project from such a reclusive artist would sound like in 2020. If you at least try to table the expectations laid out when “Exhibit C” came out in 2009...I think you will find a project (it’s up to you whether or not you want to count this a “solo debut” or not, but at this point, it’s new Jay Electronica - can we just leave it at that??) stacked with memorable moments, quotable gems throughout, stellar production (this is one of the best produced projects of 2020 by far, not sure how/why this piece of the puzzle would receive anything less than acclaim), and some moments of questionable preaching made more palatable by a strong overall voice and package.

Jay Electronica raps with conviction throughout, and while the project feels brief, it lasts long enough to be more than a quick feeling, even if many feel that it’s not long enough to feel like a full album. If "Exhibit C" was the teaser then this is the redband trailer, flashing enough skill and details to resonate for far longer than its’ duration. Much has been said about the heavy hand of JAY-Z on most of the project’s 7 tracks, but let’s be clear, this is not Watch The Throne 2 (even though at points, it may feel like something along those lines). Yes, in impressive fashion, Hov comes through riding shotgun to show a deeper shade of one of his more complex dimensions, with many of his rhymes begging for dissection with every bar. However, AWT features a JAY-Z that’s rapping through Jay Electronica’s lens, not by any means where 4:44 or Everything Is Love left off. This is definitely a Jay Electronica album. AWT dives in and out of Jay Electronica’s beliefs in broad strokes that appear and disappear rather quickly, but even when certain verses raise more questions than provide answers, every song still has at least a handful of the gripping words that remind us of what made Jay Elec-Hanukkah sound like the chosen one in the first place (his tussle with writer’s block and hesitation to put out any art make for some of the projects most engaging moments).

If A Written Testimony is the last Jay Electronica album we ever here - which I truly hope it is not the case - it is still a memorable piece of work. So if you were one of the folks that moved on from it after the “surprise” of Jay finally dropping a project subsided, I hope you change that stance and revisit it once again.

4. Descendants of Cain by Ka

“Quiet and frigid disposition, growin' up in the cold / Surprised I ain't get high from what I was low enough to behold / Like when Pops shot at the neighbor's shop, put one in his head / He knew how he grew me, threw me the gun, a hundred, and fled / Didn't play, 'fore po' arose dispose of exhibit A / I was raised to age a few years in a day / If not elite, didn't eat if you didn't pray / As much as I heal, had to deal, all my scars are here to stay / Our senseis spent days peddling / Our heroes sold heroin.” - Ka, “Patron Saints”

He makes it seem almost too easy. If the writing wasn't so gripping, you might not even revisit it. Ka’s Descendants of Cain arrived with little fanfare, except for the collective awe of his humble but religiously devoted fan-base. The religious devotion is an important piece here, as Cain adds to Ka’s quietly impressive discography another strong album that leans on classic scribes as inspiration to spin poignant metaphors on Brooklyn street philosophy.

This time, the classic work is the Christian Bible, and Ka being the brilliant MC/poet that he is, seems to have little trouble working with the medium to preach without sounding preachy, and wax familiar-sounding nostalgia over wax that sounds as dusty as it feels fresh, rich, and urgent. Producing much of the album himself, along with a few trusted collaborators, the album’s strength is in its’ density, as each song feels like it requires a pause to unpack every bar...and to be honest, that’s exactly the type of attention this work deserves. If you missed this one in the first half of 2020′s feverish dump of new releases, you need to remedy that immediately.

5. Pray for Paris by Westside Gunn

If The Alchemist is the overall rap music MVP for his many contributions to 2020 thus far, Westside Gunn may deserve at least a few honorable mentions. From becoming the ambassador of Buffalo New York to stepping up as an ambassador of the underground rap resurgence, I don’t think any other rap artist has done more to run with the torch that Roc Marciano has been waving for a damn decade than the Griselda mastermind. If you happened to hear Gunn name-dropping to Peter Rosenberg on Rosenberg’s long-standing Real Late show on Hot 97, you know exactly what I mean. Shouting-out close allies and lesser known peers alike, Gunn’s presence proudly announced the underground movement’s invasion of the highly known New York City radio station. It felt like ECW invading WWE’s Monday Night Raw all over again. Of course Gunn’s voice was met with more ears than usual during that interview, since that appearance came hot off the heels of the release of his much discussed side project turned full-blown album, Pray for Paris.

By now most fervent rap fans know the story behind the album (a project that miraculously arrived to completion while Gunn was suffering from the affects of coronavirus), but for many Pray for Paris is the introduction to the story of Griselda Records and the world that they revel in. If Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher are responsible for the Griselda team’s grittiest street tales, Westside Gunn’s success leans on his ability to blur the line between all-too-real violence and cartoon violence, splattered with elite luxury references and shout-outs for his fellow wrestling addicts. The song titles are merely scattered trains of thoughts that may or may not have anything directly to do with a song’s actual meaning, it’s like naming your child ‘brunch in Williamsburg’ just because it was the last meal you happened to have that day. An audience brought up on Lil Wayne as the God MC may be completely lost at the appeal, but audiences brought up on Wu, DOOM and Sean Price know exactly what vibe Westisde Gunn is going for.

At times Gunn can come across as more of a talent curator than a stand alone MC, so if this is the album that takes Gunn to the next level as a rap star, it would make him the most unselfish rap star to come along in some time. A rapper doesn’t jump on an Alchemist produced track with the likes of Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano and expect to leave with anything but the Bronze medal. The same can be said for his chopped and screwed contribution to “Claiborne Kick”, which clearly belongs to Boldy James. That’s not to say that Gunn’s verse is a weak moment on any of the joints on Paris, but the fact that he consistently surrounds himself with high caliber writers confirms that he is well aware that the quality of the final product will be determined by the team involved, not just the artists’ name on the album cover.

For someone that considers himself more of an artist than a rapper, he continues to paint intriguing collages with every album, featuring him at the center of an ever-expanding portrait of MCs, producers, singers, designers, and dancers. Pray for Paris is a typical Griselda project that also happens to sport the potential of something larger than most of their fanbase ever imagined. Yes we get the dark backdrops, elite underground production, and quotables throughout, but we also get a few additional shades, as Gunn dabbles with a “beauty and the beast” dynamic that cleanly pairs his violent imagery with fashionista pomp and circumstance (which no doubt helped draw the likes of Wale and Tyler, the Creator to this project). But t’s all less of a solo album to push a mainstream solo career forward, and much more of a cannonball through the mainstream wall, just to allow some sunlight to shine on his people...and his city, for that matter - because best believe, Paris may be the inspiration behind the project but Buffalo, New York is still with him every step of the way.

6. Alfredo by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

A highly enjoyable surprise drop from two-thirds of the potent combination that gave us the fan favorite project that was Fetti (shout-out to Curren$y, though), Alfredo feels like the perfect treat to hold us over during these trying times. It feels rushed, but simultaneously sharp and activated. It has the feeling of a controlled experiment that was slapped together in separate rooms, rather than carefully curated by multiple artists hunched over the same mixer for days on end. Alfredo is more of a display of two power hitters putting on an impressive showing at a Home Run Derby, rather than the collaboration that has been slowly simmering for years...but that’s also part of the fun, because it feels like Al & Fredo (eh?) were just as excited to release it as we all were to hear it.

Neither party is reinventing the wheel here, but if you are going to have a rapper and a producer connect for an album of great rapping over great beats, you would be hard pressed to find a more natural pairing than these two. The Alchemist delivers with samples that channel the speakeasy jazz of an old piano, and Freddie is simply the king of hard-rap soul right now, so he excels on every song. There are moments of darkness, moments of hope, and moments of self reflection (Gibbs is a logical choice to swing haymakers back at cops abusing their power), all delivered by Freddie at a break-neck speed over Al's significantly less urgent production....as if Gibbs frantically spilled his guts to his buddy over the phone while Al was kickin’ back with a joint saying “uh-huh...yup, I hear ya man.” The final result is an effective one, if not a quick teaser of what a lengthier amount of collaboration time between the two might sound like. It should also be said that the guest verses on this album (especially those from Tyler, The Creator and Conway) took this album up a few spots on this ‘best of’ list. Alfredo is easily one of the strongest surprises of 2020.

7. Reasonable Drought by Stove God Cook$ and Roc Marciano

There is a tradition in the rap music biz that newer/younger artists are often shepherded along by more seasoned artists in order to insure that the less experienced artist is blessed with the built-in audience that comes with a co-sign. It doesn’t always work, but typically the initiation comes with a solid musical foundation on a debut project accompanied by a greener MC still finding his/her way. Not the case with Stove God Cook$, he is perhaps the most unexpectedly fresh MC to be cut from classic rap cloth since Griselda & Mach-Hommy began to build cult-like followings.

While Reasonable Drought (and seriously, how bold of a title is that for a debut!?) is blessed by the impressive production and mentorship of underground rap icon Roc Marciano, it truly is the lesser known MC himself that captures the imagination right from the get-go. When I say that in my life time, I cannot recall such a strong debut performance by a MC that I have heard virtually no work from prior to his 2019 emergence, with the help of minimal publicity/ad budget (if any? Cook$ was barely on social media until *after* his album had already been released) on his way to dropping an album with zero features...then you should take my recommendation very seriously. Fresh style, some of the most rewind-worthy quotables in recent memory (an Uncle Buck reference!? Bow down, people), and a new following built exclusively on the word of mouth of equal-minded folks that were blown away by a project many copped on a passing whim... it’s clear that this moment could be the beginning of an amazing, fascinating career.

Similar to Roc Marciano before him, Cook$ possesses a rare flare with his wordplay and delivery that makes even the ugliest tales of coke dealing and disrespectful criminal activity sound like the colorful exploits of a post-Blaxploitation hero. He delivers every bar with the uber-specific word choice of Roc, but the outgoing swag of a Max B. The man that has people that never touched cocaine in their life singing that they’re “smelling like a brick right now”, is smelling like a winner in 2020 and beyond.

8. Battle Scar Decorated by Monday Night & Henny L.O.

Last call to board the Mutant Academy bandwagon!

I have been saying that this deep underground collective of MCs & producers has been low key having a banner year all year long, and scrolling through this list you can see exactly what I mean. Henny L.O. is too good to be slotted as just a battle rapper, while Monday Night is far too strong of a presence to be considered a mere associate of the core Mutant team. When you think of Mutant Academy and their respective affiliated acts, think of them as a gathering of solo artists that happen to make dope rap music together, but all parties involved are capable of standing on their own two. I think that’s what consistently impresses me about their projects...hat, and the lack of filler material.

Along with a deep Rolodex of mostly under-the-radar talent, the hunger and confidence of a thriving Richmond, Viriginia rap scene is present on every track of Battle Scar Decorated. Much like many of my favorite albums of 2020, there is no reinventing of the wheel here, the triumph is in the execution. Monday & Henny tag in and out, each with the confidence that they have spit the best verse on the song before they have even finished. It’s that level of ability combined with a shocking amount of production talent that makes Battle Scar Decorated essential listening to anyone that wants to be reminded of a vibe that hasn’t been in abundance in the underground rap scene since L.A. in the late 90′s. It wouldn’t be fair to talk about how much I enjoyed this project without including the great producers involved, so a big s/o to: Sycho Sid, C.R.I.S.T.E.N, James Couch, Savvy, Heather Grey, and Ewonne.

9. Eastern Medicine, Western Illness by Preservation

Accompanied by a who’s who of underground hip-hop’s finest (Roc Marciano, Mach-Hommy, Your Old Droog, Quelle Chris, Nickelus F, Tree, Navy Blue, Billy Woods, Ka *and more* - I mean seriously!?), Preservation has assembled an impressively cohesive compilation album both sonically and thematically.

Incorporating record samples from his travels in China, Eastern Medicine, Western Illness feels born in simplicity even though it is anything but a casual collection of dope verses over tightly wound production. A quietly gifted producer, Preservation knows how to squeeze the best out of his guests without shouting the results through the speakers, the choices are more subtle but yield a high impact and replay value. Listening to the project feels more like listening to a secret, unreleased project, because it’s hard to believe that this much talent would gift this much high caliber writing to a compilation of songs...although that was not uncommon in the 90′s and early 00′s (ah, I’m showing my old age again). Perhaps that’s a testament to Preservation’s vision, a DJ/producer with a relatively small catalog built on curated quality (see his fantastic 2015 collaboration with Ka on Days With Dr. Yen Lo). Eastern Medicine has enough talent involved that it could have been a worthy listen even if it was just as a hodgepodge of donated loosies, so the fact that the final product is so much more than that makes it an album that warrants a great deal of more attention.

10. The Allegory by Royce Da 5′9″

No accomplished lyricist makes life harder on himself than Royce Da 5′9″. Be it his tendency to cram personal observations and disclosures in and around his punchlines, or experimenting production wise, the Detroit veteran is intent on finding new ways to approach fine wine music, tossing more complex offerings into his catalog over the past few years. Things are no different with The Allegory.

Not only did Royce once again pen an album that speaks to his ability to cope with his own past and present, he inserts himself in the producer chair as well, addressing the trials and tribulations of the increasingly problematic world around him, over backdrops crafted by only his hand a a few trusted peers. The effect is mostly successful, with the production exceeding the expectations of many (myself included), while the writing is at times both thought-provoking and in need of further exploration on Royce’s part. The guest features range from effective to scene stealing (not because Royce ‘s verse is outshined, but there are moments where it seems as if the guest is better suited over Royce’s own production than he is). If you’re Royce Da 5′9″ and you release an album titled The Allegory, no one should expect a simple quick fix of bars over easily digestible instrumentals. The highs come in abundance, and while the lows come in small trip-ups and the occasional skit that the listener probably could have done without, you get the sense that with some editing and further focus of his lofty goals, his sermons could have been sharpened into a more effective analysis of many of his topics (the music business, being black in America, history, conspiracy theories), resulting in an incredible album instead of a very good one. Nevertheless, it is all worth the ride to hear the latest work from one of rap music’s most gifted MC’s from the past decade. If The Allegory isn’t a home-run, it’s at the very least a strong base hit.

Top 50 (all belong in the Top 10-25, but...there’s only 25 spots in the Top 25, soooo):

11. Cold Water by Medhane

12. Shrines by Armand Hammer

13. Bag Talk by yungmorpheus & Pink Siifu

14. Try Again by ovrkast.

15. RTJ4 by Run The Jewels

16. Noise Kandy 4 by Rome Streetz

17. Innocent Country 2 by Quelle Chris

18. Weight of the World by MIKE

19. Sages by Henny L.O. & Ohbliv

20. Milestones by Skyzoo

21. Carpe Noctem by Big Ghost Ltd

22. Lake Water by SeKwence

23. At the End of the Day. by Fly Anakin

24. Sole Food by Deniro Farrar

25. The Oracle 3 by Grafh

26. The Blue Tape by Tree

27. lo&behold by lojii

28. Infinite Wisdom by Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

29. FULL CIRCLE by Medhane

30. UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats

31. The Throwaways by The Opioid Era

32. Anyways by Young Nudy

33. PTSD (Deluxe) by G Herbo

34. Holly Favored by Monday Night & Foisey

35. THE GOAT by Polo G

36. Demon & Mufasa by Yhung T.O. & DaBoii

37. The Face of Jason by ANKHLEJOHN

38. My Turn by Lil Baby

39. No One Mourns the Wicked by Conway & Big Ghost Ltd.

40. Two4one by Jay Worthy

41. Free Drakeo by Drakeo

42. Alone Time by YL

43. Assata by CV$ a.k.a. Con$piracy & Teller Bank$

44. Thug Tear by Big Kashuna O.G. & Monday Night

45. Ways and Means by Rasheed Chappell & 38 Spesh

46. IMMORTALKOMBAT by Al Divino & Estee Nack

47. Young & Turnt 2 by 42 Dugg

48. Sleeper Effect by Sleep Sinatra

49. Juno by Che Noir & 38 Spesh

50. LULU by Conway & The Alchemist

THE REST OF THE BEST (all belong in the Top 50 releases of 2020, but..what can I say, blame 2020 for being such a stacked year for music/events I guess):

Black Schemata by yungmorpheus, The Smartest by Tee Grizzley, Polly by the Powder Keg by Chuck Chan & Pad Scientist, High Off Life by Future, Gotham City Album by Plex Diamonds, Memphis Massacre 2 by Duke Deuce, Poetic Substance by RIM & Vinyl Villain, Styles David: Ghost Your Enthusiasm by Styles P, MF Bloo by Bloo & Spanish Ran, LSD by The Leonard Simpson Duo & Guilty Simpson, Funeral by Lil Wayne, RAW UNKNOWN by Spectacular Diagnostics, Nezzie’s Star by Eddie Kaine, ShrapKnel (self-titled), The Bluest Note by Skyzoo & Dumbo Station, WUNNA by Gunna, Get Money Teach Babies by Heist Life & Spanish Ran, Open Casket by Killer Kane, 6 Rings by Yung Mal, The Beauty of It by Eto, Meet The Woo 2 by Pop Smoke, Fresh Air by UFO Fev & Statik Selektah, Vito by Vince Ash, GRIMM & EViL by GRiMM Doza, RUDEBWOY by CJ Fly, Rocket to Nebula by Killah Priest, EVERYTHING by Kota the Friend, NO Blade of Grass by V Don, Eternal Atake by Lil Uzi Vert, I’m My Brother’s Keeper by Yella Beezy & Trapboy Freddy, Carhartt Champions by Tree Mason, Viral Viral! by Dunbar, Rowhouse Whispers by Ray West & Zilla Rocca, Magneto Was Right #4 by Raz Fresco, DUMP LIFE by Tha God Fahim, Jay NiCE & Left Lane Didon, Burn One, Tap In, Zone Out by Dot Demo, FNTG: From Niggaz to Godz by Squeegie O, PANAGNL4E, Vol. 2 by Los and Nutty, Death 2 All Haterz 2 by Rigz & Symph, Thank You For Using GTL by Drakeo & JoogSzn, Adjust to the Game by Larry June, Martyr’s Prayer by Elcamino & 38 Spesh, BETTER by Deante’ Hitchcock, Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 by $ilkMoney, No Cosign Just Cocaine 3 by Ty Farris, Hear No Equal by Chuuwee, MSYKM by Tsu Surf, Your Birthday’s Cancelled by Iron Wigs, Spring Clean by Curren$y & Fuse, Arctic Plus Degrees (The Sun Don’t Chill Allah) by Planet Asia & DirtyDiggs, Psychological Cheat Sheet by Vic Spencer, Glass 2.0 by Meyhem Lauren & Harry Fraud, Trust the Chain by Planet Asia & 38 Spesh, Director’s Cut (Scene Two) by Ransom & Nicholas Craven, and Son Of A Gun by Key Glock.

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paper-chain-queen · 4 years

Text

Sweet ‘N Spicy Goodness

Bakugou X FReader

Rating: Teen... because it’s Bakugou and he swears :p

Words: 2,000+

I loved the Lotte x Bump Of Chicken animation by Studio Bones and thought of this little one-shot. Please look it up on Youtube if you haven't seen it, it's super cute

Summary: Bakugou goes to the store to pick up his favourite chocolate bar, he ends up crushing on a U.A student in the process.

A blonde boy stomped his way into a convenience store to grab a small snack. He wasn’t in his usual area, and he was more irritated than usual as it had started to get cold.

The winter cold was making it harder for him to sweat, which made his quirk less effective and thus making it nearly impossible to train for the upcoming U.A entrance exam.

“Fuck this cold. It’s fucking freezing..”His hand reached for the last hot pepper-infused chocolate bar. Regular chocolate bars were too sugary but this one was spicy which made it perfect in his opinion. Bakugou’s hand grabbed the red-packaging and half- a second later another hand with long, orange nails dropped next to his.Bakugou felt a shock go up his body as he turned his head, ready to tell whoever it was to ‘fuck off.’ As he turned to look, he felt his words get caught in his throat.

“Oops, sorry.” The girl’s voice was like a melody he had never heard. Her lustrous hair was slightly peeking out from the oversized scarf she was wearing, he wasn’t the only one feeling the cold. She had a bright smile and large eyes that seemed to draw him in, and he noticed a red camellia tucked into her hair.She stood maybe a head taller and said something else before removing her dainty hand from the chocolate bar and grabbing a different snack.

The girl gave him another bright smile before walking away towards the cashier, a bounce in her step. The girl was too cheery with the man behind the counter for Bakugou’s taste, giving him a friendly goodbye as she headed out the store, the greenish skirt of her U.A uniform swishing around her thighs as she quickly evaded colliding with an incoming customer.

“Wait, dammit… U.A- !” Bakugou realized where the girl went to school was exactly what he was aiming for and tried to run after her, not really knowing why, but he lost her in a crowd. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, letting out a large sigh, his hot breath in the cold air creating a soft cloud.

“Pft.. whatever… not gonna worry about some extra..” Bakugou decided and hunched his shoulders forward as he stuffed the chocolate bar into his pocket, hurrying home to get out of the cold.He would see her at U.A when he got in. Not that he cared if he ever saw her again.

Time passed, Bakugou got into U.A but he hadn’t seen the mystery girl around. So much had happened since the convenience store meeting.

There was the USJ incident. The fall of All Might. Moving into the dorms. Bakugou failed his hero licensing exam and had to take a course. He had been a drummer at the U.A school festival. Yes, U.A kept Bakugou very busy but now and then he still found himself wondering where the annoyingly cute girl who liked spicy hot pepper-chocolate was.

Bakugou was back at the convenience store, nestled into his scarf, cursing about the cold as he reached out for his regular spicy chocolate bar. Seconds after his hand grabbed it, another hand reached out and laid their soft hand over his.The hand didn’t move, just stayed there and softly held his.

Bakugou looked over and it the girl from the last time. His world felt hazy, the edges were all airbrushed out, and she stood in the centre, clear as day, and she was as beautiful as the first time he saw her. The U.A uniform looked perfect on her before, and that hadn’t changed. Her skirt was even a little shorter, and Bakugou caught a small peak of soft skin above her thigh-high black stockings.He couldn’t believe his luck, he had come to this convenience store multiple times, but this was the first time since the initial meeting that he had seen her.

The explosive boy had tried to find her at U.A, but he didn’t know her name and was too proud to go around, giving people a detailed description of the girl who enjoyed the same chocolate as him.

She smiled coyly and had blush on her cheeks as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.Bakugou was no longer shorter, he had grown and now towered over her. The ash-blonde boy smirked at her, feeling cocky over the way she smiled and blushed. He let go of the chocolate bar and held hand in his. It fit perfectly in his.

“ I- I was thinking about you… I couldn’t take my mind off-” Her soft melodic voice was cut off, and he felt hard fabric wrap around his head.

“Bakugou!”

“Huh?” He was in class, being glared at by his homeroom teacher.

“Fall asleep again, and you can take a nap in detention,” Aizawa informed him, causing the others in class to laugh.It was just a dream. Bakugou had been dreaming…

“What? did you stay up past 8:30 last night, Bakugou!?” Teased Kaminari.

“Die.” He threatened, and the class only laughed at the antics.Bakugou leaned back and looked out the window, winter was on its way, and all the tree’s on campus were bare, a slight layer of frost covered the window.

The class went on, and soon it was lunch, and he was surrounded by his usual crew.

“Yo, check it out, (y/n)-senpai is with Gang Orca’s agency!” Sero shoved his phone into Kirishima’s face, who grabbed the phone and seemed to be excited over the news.Red eyes wandered over to the phone screen as he shovelled hot curry into his mouth, and when he recognized the girl in the tight-fitting catsuit smiling with the top ten hero, he choked on his food.Kirishima hit him on the back to try and help him while Kaminari and Sero laughed.

If Bakugou hadn’t been so caught up in the fact he finally had a name for the face he had seen in his weird and unwanted daydreams, then he would threaten to end their lives for laughing at him.Mina handed him a glass of water while Kirishima asked what was wrong. What they didn’t know was that Bakugou was actually over the moon.He had a lead.

Bakugou silently ate the rest of his lunch while the others at the table talked about (y/n)-Senpai. She was a second-year student in Class 2-B and was already making headlines in the professional hero world.

Her quirk: Mother Nature. That explained the red flower nestled in her hair.Kirishima even showed him a video from the recent event where she created a massive serpent-dragon out of vines and trees, controlling and making it move as if it was alive and capturing a villain in its wooden jaws.Bakugou was now more determined to find her and challenge her to a fight.He was sure he would. He was Bakugou, the best, the future number one hero. He wouldn’t let himself be intimidated by some girl.

Even if she was pretty and had a pretty awesome quirk.

“Hey Bakugou, we’re gonna stock up for game night, want any snacks?” Kirishima asked as everyone packed up their school bags, excited for their weekend.

“I’ll get it myself, Shitty Hair.” The group headed off school grounds together, and Bakugou shoved his hands into his coat pockets, trying to keep warm.

“Fuck, it’s cold out.”The group of friends walked along the road and came upon the local convenience store that lots of U.A students frequented.The bell rang as they walked into the store, and Bakugou went straight to the wall that was decorated with various types of chocolate treats. His hand reached out for his favourite hot-pepper infused chocolate bar, it’s flaming red packaging standing out on the shelf.As his hand reached for it, another gloved hand bumped into his, and his heart raced, his crimson eye’s looking over, hoping to see the girl who had been on his mind.Instead.. he was met with Sero’s broad smile.

“You like this one too Bakugou?! I’ll rock-paper-scissors you for it.” Sero offered, and Bakuou simply growled and just took the chocolate bar from the shelf for himself, marched to the cashier, paid for his stuff and stomping out of the store to head back.The days were short, so the night had fallen, and neon lights decorated the street.

As he walked along the road, he could hear his 'squad’ calling his name and catching up to him. By chance, he looked up and froze on the spot, causing the guys to ask him what was wrong, but Bakugou just stared ahead.There you were, walking along with some friend of yours. She must have been telling you a joke or something because you were laughing, a bounce in your step as you walked. You were sporting the U.A uniform but had a thick green scarf wrapped around your neck and hair, a red camelia tucked behind your ear.You were stunning, and Bakugou felt his body go hot, his palms sweating profusely as he stared at you despite the cold air.

“Bakugou?”The explosion boy didn’t wait any longer and ran straight towards you, not thinking about his next move, but he didn’t want to miss this chance.

All you saw was someone running up to you, and your friend and your hero instincts flipped on as you took a fighting pose, ready to protect your friend who was in the support program at U.A.Instead of starting a fight, Bakugou came to a screeching halt in front of you and huffed and puffed as he stood there. His breath creating soft, fleeting clouds in the cold air.Crimson eyes met yours and stayed like that for a while.

“…Oh! I know you.” You giggled, and your friend just looked to for answers, and you grabbed onto her sleeve and shook it to get her attention.

“Remember, the cute boy who beat me to my favourite chocolate bar.” You reminded her and Bakugou’s face erupted into a red that matched his eyes as he heard that you had thought of him.

You had talked about him…. and called him cute!

Bakugou couldn’t help but celebrate in his mind, stoked that he had stood out enough for you to tell your friend about him. And while he didn’t stand tall over you, he appeared to now and at least be the same height.

He was still a growing boy. He knew he had time to grow taller.

You spoke to your friend, and she said she needed to head home for dinner but expected a text later, wanting to know how this all ended.

He rushed to grab the chocolate bar out of his pocket and held it out to you. He couldn’t even look at you as he did, choosing to look to the side, only peeking after a moment that you still just stared at the chocolate bar.

“Well?! Take it already!” He snapped, holding out the bar closer to you.

“Oh! Thank you.” She smiled and took the bar, a small blush on her cheeks. She unwrapped the red paper revealing the silver foil and snapped the bar in half.

“Here, for my cute kohai.” You offered him the other half, and Bakugou couldn’t believe how you had somehow gotten prettier than the last time he had seen you, and he felt this smile was unique, just for him. His recent fantasies of you fell short of the real thing.

“I’m a second year in the hero course at U.A., class 2-1. (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you…” you were still holding out the other half of the chocolate bar to him.

“C'mon bro, introduce yourself already.” Kirishima was nudging him, annoying him.

“Fuck off already!” He yelled at him and got even more embarrassed when he realized how he was acting in front of you.But you just giggled, a small blush on your cheeks. He hoped you couldn’t hear how quickly his heart was racing.

“Bakugou Katsuki…” He told her while grabbing the chocolate she was offering.

“ (L/N)- Senpai! Do you like video games?” Asked Mina as she bounced up and down and grabbed the girl’s hands.

“I do, I’m not very good, though.” you laughed at the pink girl’s energetic self.

“That’s okay! It’s just for fun anyway, plus this group has wayyy too much male energy. I’m dying for a girl to join.” Mina was practically begging you to join.

“ If you don’t mind then, I’d love to join.” You said, and you looked over to the cute ash-blonde boy who had been quiet. Bakugou Katsuki was a boy you had been curious about for a bit, and you couldn’t help be excited about finally meeting him.

“Maybe I could be your player 2?” You winked at Bakugou as you said so, and he felt his heart go 'boom.’

“What are you losers waiting for then!? It’s fucking cold out.” He yelled as he turned around to hide his red face as he stuffed the entire half of the chocolate bar into his face and then jammed his hands into his pockets, marching back to the school dorms.

“He’s kind of a funny one, isn’t he?” You giggled to the others in the group, and they all laughed nervously, even they weren’t sure what to make of Bakugou’s strange attitude.

“ Yeah… but he’s a really good guy.” Kirishima insisted, getting the feeling that his best bro had a crush, and he would do what he could to help.

“Yeah, I saw his performance at the summer festival.” You gushed, and Kirishima worried that the sports festival might be a poor example of what Bakugou was like.

“ He’s really not that bad…” He started, but you were quick to cut him off.

“I thought he was amazing, the way he used his quirk was so versatile, and his determination to take the number one spot was admirable.” You explained, Kirishima noticed a small blush on your cheeks as you tucked a bit of hair behind your ear. Maybe you had a crush on Bakugou as well?

“Oi, flower girl!” Bakugou yelled, pointing his finger at you.

“Flower girl?” You asked, pointing to yourself and tilting your head slightly. The act made Bakugou curse in his head. You were unfairly cute, and it was making his teenage brain go crazy. Bakugou had waited a year to meet you and wasn’t going to let you waste time on 'extra’s. He wanted you beside him.

“Don’t walk with them! Walk with me.” He grabbed you by the scarf and dragged you along. Kirishima shook his head at his friend, hoping you weren’t the type to be scared off by this behaviour.

All you were thinking was that this seemed to be the beginning of a very fun, but oddly sweet relationship with a little bit of spice. Just the way you liked your chocolate bars.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bhna x reader #fanfiction #someone take my keyboard away #can't title things to save my life

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sword-and-shield-writings · 4 years

Note

Hey! Good luck with your super cute blog!!!! ABout the request: How about a SFW fluffy OneShot for Raihan who has a crush a t the cute female reader who works at the local Pokemarkt, but she is very very shy; How would he go about that?

Aaa thank you boo!! And this is the most adorable thing ever SJDKFSDHJG I love this so much <3 <3 <3 Hope you enjoy~

Art of The Hunt

Fandom: Pokemon Sword + Shield Rating: SFW Style: Oneshot Details: Raihan having a crush on a uber shy Fem!Reader who works at the local Pokemart.

His large hands held onto the small basket filled with pokemon care materials, it was so small compared to him it was almost laughable. Without thinking twice his hands reached instinctively for the top shelf for a box of the new Duraludon Polish for his ace, half-lidded teal eyes looking around the Pokemart lazily - he had been there so many times he didn’t even need to look for what he was grabbing, for he had something else on his mind. Or rather, someone. The tall bachelor of Galar, the Dragon Tamer of this vast region found himself gravitating toward a quiet soul that was hiding behind the protection of the Pokemart till, her eyes shifting from the keypad and the checkout display. Arceus she looks adorable today... Raihan mused to himself as he stood there on the other side of the Pokemart. The only time he ever thanked Arceus for his tall height was when he realized he could subtly look over the shelves of the Pokemart on his toes to see the young lady crunching numbers and flustering over greeting and waving goodbye to the customers as per her contract with her boss.

She was like a little Deerling, so beautiful, adorable and will shy away from even the slightest and insignificant thing like eye contact or a stray compliment. A small smile played on the Gym Leader’s lips as he moved closer to the counter, lining up behind the small number of people lining up there. It was late in the evening, hardly anyone was in the Wyndon Pokemart and yet even when he desperately needed something from there he would wait until the wee hours of the night to catch a glimpse of the shy young lady. He could catch his heartbeat quicken when he opened his cabinet and realized he had run out of berry ingredients for his curry and would wait for hours until the hour hand on the clock hit 8 so he could get on his Flygon and get what he needed and then some. Right before it was his turn, he glanced down at a pack of bubblegum - he didn’t normally chew gum but every time he managed to snag an encounter with the elusive beauty she always smelled as if she was chewing this brand of bubblegum all the time.

“H-Hello sir! Ho -” the young lady chimed softly before she froze and a blush crossed over from cheek to cheek, head tilting up to see the dragon type gym leader. Raihan smiled lazily as he gave her a playful yet lax salute. Her eyes widened as she continued, Raihan chuckling to himself as she did, “... H-how are you today...? Had a p-p-pleasant shopping... experience...?” She meekly asked, feeling her cheeks redden as she reached out for the first of many things Raihan “needed” to buy.

“Hey there.” Raihan hummed in his deep baritone voice, a small laugh hiding behind his words as he looked at her red cheeks - they might as well be little Cherubi, “And yes, a very nice experience. I love shopping here at night, there's hardly anyone around.” His eyes glanced over at the lady’s fingers, he wanted to hold onto them and see if they were really as soft as they looked. She nodded her head shakily and Raihan could practically hear her shaky breathing.

“T-That’s good to hear s-sir.” She stammered - she only reason why she took this position was that she didn’t want to perform manual labour to stock the shelves and she didn’t want to wander about the mart and offer her services. Serving at the till would mean the least amount of contact and talking and social interaction besides the occasional small talk she had to make to upkeep a good impression for the Pokemart.

“You can call me Raihan if you want.” He smiled softly, leaning down, “Everyone does, it’s no biggie. I shop here all the time, you can call me by a first name basis.” He smiled at her as she nervously looked up and he caught a glimpse of how beautiful her eyes were. They would be even more beautiful under the moonlight, on a walk with him after a nice dinner date.

“O-Oh, okay then... Raihan...” She murmured, her cheeks still red as she started to quickly check out his products. He shoved his hands in his pockets lazily as he watched her check them out, one by one, how she nervously pursed her lips as she checked the price stage with the check-out display, how she nervously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Everything about her drew him in and yet he was so far away from actually getting to know her. However, he was determined to try and make a start on it that evening. “T-That’ll be $126.50!” She chirped as she put them all in a large plastic bag.

Rahan nodded his head, taking out his credit card and shuffling through his pants pockets for a pen - he always had one on him just in case a fan wanted a signature on their shirt or Pokeball. As the flustered lady swiped the card on the machine and shakily gave it back to him, she turned her body around to wait for the receipt, trying to stay calm. Swiftly, Raihan shuffled his hand through the bag for the packed of bubblegum and started scribbling on it.

“He-Here you go si- I mean, Raihan!” The lady managed out as she tore the receipt form the little printer and turned around to find him... gone. A small exhale left her lips as she leaned against the wall behind her, fanning herself. “O-oh jeez...” She muttered, patting her cheeks to cool them off. Her eyes scanned her work station, moving to clean it like she did after every other customer to maintain the cleaning policy they had when she caught sight of something - a stick of bubblegum from her favourite brand. She looked around, seeing if Raihan was anywhere around but to no avail. Shoot, did I forget to put this in?? Oh, my boss is gonna kill me! She fretted as she picked it up... and saw something on it. It was small and in dark blue writing. She brought it close to her face to read it and her eyes widened in surprise and her blush darkened further (if that was even possible).

“Here’s my number if you’re interested, no pressure :) Enjoy the gum <3 - Raihan″

As the young lady started to freak out behind the till, the tall man chuckled watching her from afar, sitting on top of his Flygon. His pokemon looked up at him expectantly before he placed his large hand over its head, “Alright, alright, let’s go home.” He murmured before his pokemon took off into the night silently, sporting him away from Wyndon to Hammerlocke. He was a patient man, he had to be to handle dragon types, and it was certainly needed in the art of the hunt. If he didn’t get her that time, he’ll try again. Eventually, he’ll be able to coax that little Deerling out from the shrubs. Eventually.

#pokemon #pokemonswsh #raihan #reader insert #fluff #imagines #raihan swsh #raihan sword and shield #raihan pokemon #pokemon raihan x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon raihan

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writing-and-chex-mix · 4 years

Text

The Walmart Disaster

Heyy, I’ve just posted my first fanfiction on ao3! It’s Irondad/Spiderson, so if you like that, I’d love it if you read it! Find it on ao3! Summary: "Mr. Stark, you really didn't have to do this," Peter said as he pushed the cart through the Walmart aisles. "I wanted to, kid." Tony picked up a pack of Ticonderoga pencils. "This is the best brand of pencil here, right? You're not getting any crappy, generic pencils if I have anything to say about it." "I'm fine with off-brand school supplies, Mr. Stark!" Peter protested, trying and failing to grab the Ticonderogas out of his mentor's hands. "Seriously, I am. It's what I get every year." "Not this year," Mr. Stark said, grabbing two more boxes and dropping them in the cart. Peter put his face in his hands. This was not going well.

aka: Tony, a human disaster, takes Peter, another human disaster, school supplies shopping.

"Mr. Stark, you really didn't have to do this," Peter said as he pushed the cart through the Walmart aisles.

"I wanted to, kid." Tony picked up a pack of Ticonderoga pencils. "This is the best brand of pencil here, right? You're not getting any crappy, generic pencils if I have anything to say about it."

"I'm fine with off-brand school supplies, Mr. Stark!" Peter protested, trying and failing to grab the Ticonderogas out of his mentor's hands. "Seriously, I am. It's what I get every year."

"Not this year," Mr. Stark said, grabbing two more boxes and dropping them in the cart.

Peter put his face in his hands. This was not going well.

*** ***

When Aunt May got a job promotion, Peter was thrilled. However, the promotion meant she had to work longer hours, and the time she had off was best used for rest. The two realized only a week and a half before school was meant to start that they hadn't gone back-to-school shopping. May was going to be working almost non-stop for the rest of the summer and wouldn't have time to take Peter out- so she called Tony.

"I'm still not sure I like you," she had said on the phone, "but I can't take him shopping, and he's grown out of all his clothes. He's taking all honors classes this year and needs extra stuff, and school is coming up fast. I know you’re probably busy, but if you could just spare a few hours, I’d really appreciate-”

“Of course I’ll take him, May,” Tony had answered. “I’m not letting our favorite spider-child start his junior year of high school without any school supplies. Don’t worry, I don’t have anything important this week to do- does Wednesday sound alright to you?"

And that is why Peter found himself in the back-to-school section of Walmart with Tony Stark on a Wednesday morning.

"Let's see, what else do you need?" Tony muttered, squinting at the supply list Peter had printed out and given him. "Blunt-edged scissors. What is this, a daycare? You're fifteen, not five. You can have sharp scissors."

"But the list says-"

"I know what the list says," Tony said, "but I've suddenly decided I can't read. Fiskar's a good brand, right?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah."

This'll all be over soon, and then I can go to school pretending they were out of the safety scissors.

Oh, how wrong he was.

*** ***

"Eleven Kleenex boxes? Why do they need so many?” Tony peered down at the list in confusion. “Is everyone there sick? Should I be concerned? Should I donate?"

Peter sighed. "We don't have to get all eleven if you think that's too much. I'm sure my teachers won't miss them."

"No! Never!" Tony cried, grabbing all the boxes he could carry and dumping them in the cart. "Just because I think it's ridiculous doesn't mean I'm gonna skimp!"

*** ***

"They're out of yellow folders with brads," Peter told Tony from the next aisle.

"What?" Tony walked over to the teen and surveyed the shelves. "Those ones don't have brads?" He picked up one of the few yellow folders remaining and opened it to check inside.

"Nope," Peter replied, popping the "p".

Tony frowned and put the folder back. "Curse you, Walmart!"

*** ***

“Sixteen ounce hand sanitizer…” Tony muttered as he pushed the half-full cart through the cleaning supplies aisle. “Where the heck is that?”

“There’s hand sanitizer right there,” Peter said, pointing towards the end of the aisle.

“Yes! There it- no, that’s not right.” Tony picked up a small bottle of hand sanitizer and read the label. “This is eight ounces. The list says sixteen.”

The two looked through the whole aisle but couldn’t find a sixteen ounce bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Would buying two eight-ounce bottles count?” Peter asked.

“Wait, I’ve got one!” Tony cried, holding out a bottle he had found at the back of the shelf, hidden behind other types of hand sanitizer.”

“Okay, check,” Peter said, pulling out a pen and grabbing the list from the cart. He clicked the pen and moved to cross out the hand sanitizer when he groaned. “It says it has to be a hand pump.”

“What?” Tony’s eyes darted back and forth between Peter and the bottle of sanitizer that was obviously not a hand pump. “Crap.”

*** ***

“The next thing on the list is...manilla paper,” Tony said as Peter set a pack of ballpoint pens into the cart. “I didn’t know high schoolers still used that. Are you taking art or something? What class needs manilla paper?”

Peter snorted. “You mean vanilla paper?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “No. Manilla paper.”

Peter frowned in confusion. “What’s manilla paper?”

Tony walked into the next aisle and came back with a 100-sheet pack of the buff-colored paper. “Here you go.”

“But that’s vanilla paper!”

Tony looked at the label. “Kid, I’m pretty sure it says manilla paper. I’m not going blind yet.”

Peter grabbed the paper out of his mentor’s hand and gaped at the label. “But...but I thought...what?”

“You’ve seriously gone through eleven years of school thinking that this was called vanilla paper?” Tony laughed.

Peter’s face burned. “It’s not my fault the words sound so similar! Also, it made sense, because of the...color.” His face got redder and redder as he tried to defend himself.

Tony shook his head. “Kid, you’re the dumbest genius kid I’ve ever met, and I’m including myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or insult.”

“Just put the paper in the cart, kid.”

*** ***

"Ma'am, excuse me, ma'am!" Tony rushed over to a black-haired woman who was pushing a cart full of school supplies down the aisle next to them, a young girl trailing behind.

The woman stopped and turned. "Can I help you?"

He pointed to her cart. "Does that yellow folder have brads?"

The woman slowly nodded. "Yes…"

Tony grinned. "I will literally pay you two hundred dollars for that folder."

"Mr. Stark, no!" Peter shouted, walking up beside him.

Tony pulled out his wallet. "Mr. Stark, yes!"

*** ***

“Aha!” Peter exclaimed, “I found a sixteen ounce sanitizer hand pump!” He held it up proudly.

Tony frowned. “Why was it in the shoe aisle?”

Peter looked around to see if there was a hand sanitizer display and, not seeing one, shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea. But at least we have the right hand sanitizer!”

“Put it in the cart and check it off, kid.”

Peter carefully set the hand pump down and reached in his back pocket for the supply list.

He froze.

“Uh...where’s the list?”

*** ***

“How did you lose the list?” Tony asked as the two speed-walked back towards the front of the store, Tony dragging the cart behind him.

“I don’t know! It was in my pocket most of the time!” Peter said, his eyes scanning the floor for the list frantically.

“‘Most of the time’?” Tony asked. “Did you set it down somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed, “in the cart!”

“That doesn’t help at all!”

*** ***

“You know what, we don’t need the list,” Tony said, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We’ve been looking for half an hour- I don’t think we’re gonna find it.” Peter sighed. “You’re right. We should just- oh my gosh, it’s right there!” He pointed to a man pushing a cart right behind Tony.

“Where?” Tony turned around and spotted the list, wedged between a large package of toilet paper and the bottom of the shopping cart. “Oh. Of course. Right underneath the toilet paper.”

“I’ll get it,” Peter said, bounding over to the man pushing the cart towards the checkout line. “Hey! Hey, sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but my school supplies list is in your cart- I don’t know how it got there, I must have dropped it somewhere and it attached to your cart- anyways, can you stop for just a second so I can grab it? I’m really sorry, sir, I don’t know how the list got there-”

“Kid!” Tony, who was trailing behind the two, snapped Peter out of his ramblings. “He can’t hear you!” “What? He can’t…” Peter looked at the man, who was still pushing his cart, oblivious to Peter’s dilemma, and his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Oh my gosh,” Peter muttered. “He-he’s got Airpods in! He can’t hear us! Oh my gosh.” He shook his head. “When did memes start applying to my life?”

“Peter, just- nevermind, I’ll do it,” Tony said, briskly walking past Peter and to the self-checkout the man had arrived at while Peter was having an existential crisis.

The billionaire tapped the man on the shoulder and waited before the man had made eye contact with him and taken out his Airpods before speaking.

“Sir, I need to grab a list that is stuck to your toilet paper, it’ll be just-”

“It’s my toilet paper, don’t take it,” the man said, glaring at Tony.

“Wh-no, I just need to-”

The man raised a finger at Tony. “If you take my toilet paper, I’ll call the authorities, I’m warning you.”

“But I’m not-”

The man put his Airpods back in and continued scanning his groceries.

Tony backed slowly out of the line.

“What was that you were saying, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked airily, walking up to stand beside him. “You’ll do it?”

“Oh, shut up,” Tony grumbled. “You didn’t do any better.”

“How are we gonna get the list now?” Peter asked. “He said not to touch the toilet paper.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “He said not to take the toilet paper. And I won’t! I’ll just grab the list real fast.” He cracked his knuckles. “Watch and learn, kid.”

Before Peter could protest, Tony dashed over to where the man was just about to finish scanning and bagging his groceries and placed a hand on the toilet paper…just as the man bent down to grab it.

The two men turned their heads to each other in what seemed to Peter like slow motion. Their eyes widened.

The man yanked his one of his Airpods out with his free hand. “Security!” he yelled. “This man is stealing my toilet paper!”

“I’m not stealing your freaking toilet paper!” Tony shouted. “I just need to grab my list! It was stuck to your toilet paper! See-” Tony looked down at the package where the list should’ve been and immediately stopped. “What? It was right here! It was right here!”

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to let go of the toilet paper,” a cashier who had come over to see what the problem was told him.

“No!” Tony said. He yanked the toilet paper out of the man’s hands and turned it over. “It’s got to be here somewhere,” he muttered.

“You’re just gonna let him take my toilet paper?” the man asked, his face red. “I’m gonna give this place a bad review.”

“I don’t think a bad review’s going to hurt Walmart, buddy,” a bystander called back.

“Where the heck is that list?” Tony said.

“Mr. Stark, we can just print a new list- it doesn’t really matter,” Peter pleaded.

“Is that Tony Stark?"

"I want my toilet paper!"

"It was just here!"

"Enough!"

*** ***

"I can't believe you got us kicked out of Walmart," Peter grumbled from the backseat of the car.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony protested beside him. "It was that crazy man with the fake Airpods!"

"They were fake?"

"Tony, if I know anything about you, it's that it's always your fault," Happy said.

Tony hmmmphed and crossed his arms.

“What are we gonna do now?” Peter asked. “We didn’t get to buy any supplies! And I’m not sure I trust you in Target. Or any store for that matter.”

“You ever heard of online shopping, kid?”

*** ***

“Hey, Mr. Stark, you’re in the news!”

“I’m always in the news, kid, what is it this time?” Tony turned around from where he was standing in the lab to see Peter scrolling on his phone.

“‘Tony Stark Caught Stealing Toilet Paper from Citizen in Local Walmart’,” Peter read, grinning. “This Wednesday, Mr. Gabriel Smith was shopping for needed supplies-”

“Oh, give me that!”

“-and was in the process of paying for his items when Tony Stark reportedly grabbed his toilet paper-”

“Peter!”

#my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #also on ao3 #irondad and spiderson #marvel #peter parker #tony stark #may parker #fanfic #writing #this is my first time doing this so we'll see how this goes

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goodfortune-au · 3 years

Text

Good Fortune (Soulmate AU) Chapter 14: Games

In the coming weeks of March going into April, there had come the next wave, the next vital stage of his attentions and the days that Angel had started to look forward to the most. These were nothing like the voices in her head, the phantom hands stroking her skin, or the experience of finding him on her favorite TV channel. Angel had spent such time these days simply pining after him, waiting for him to worm his way back into her mind, distract her, take her away from all her worries and doubts. To tell the truth, this wasn’t much different from the days of before, all those days spent patrolling the TV for the Derry Children’s Hour and all the time she spent sleeping in the hopes of stumbling across those delicious dreams once more, but now that she had tasted the true sweetness of his presence, there was simply no turning back now. Yes, Angel had truly experienced something she’d never had the pleasure of experiencing before, that is, the love and touch of another living, breathing thing, and now she wanted more. She wanted more, and knowing that the time was ripe to do so, Pennywise was more than delighted to offer it to her. It had begun one warm April afternoon, when the Losers had come to bless Angel with their blithesome, whimsical company. A conversation about the perils and pitfalls of pre-pubescent life at school eventually dissolved into listless boredom, and then Angel had saved the day with a simple deck of cards. They took to it immediately, all sitting in a circle around the coffee table. It was Angel, followed by Bill, followed by Eds and Richie, followed by Stan. The TV is chattering quietly in the background behind them.

“Alright, host goes first, and we’ll move in clockwise.” Angel had announced. She laid down a blue card inscribed with a three.

Bill is thoughtful for a moment, rifling through his cards and finally he sets one down on top of it. Blue seven. Eds places down a yellow seven and Richie grumbles before drawing a few cards out of the deck in the middle. He finally places down a yellow five and Stan counters with the same number in green. And so the cycle continues, the silence progressively growing more and more tense, just waiting for the first shoe to finally drop. It comes back around to Stan again.

“...Sorry, Anj.” Stan says with a wryness in his voice, as though he wasn’t really sorry. He theatrically sets down a card and a death knell practically descends over her head. “Draw four.”

She gasps dramatically. “You little bastard!” She draws four cards out of the deck with a leisurely chuckle, and then places one of them into the middle with a flourish. Reverse card. “Your turn again, Stan the man. This way you can’t betray me a second time.”

“Fine by me, now I get to betray Richie.” Stan says with a devilish smirk. Skip turn.

“Oh come on!” Richie wails. “I had a good one!”

Eddie snickers and places down a green nine. “Sucks to suck, doesn’t it Trashmouth?” Bill places down a green two.

“Can it, wheezy, or I’ll sic the hounds on you next go around, I've got some good cards.”

“Oh no you won’t.” Angel says with a wag of her finger. Another reverse. The entire party flares up with a chorus of controversy and uproarious laughter. Bill snickers and puts down a second green two, then Eddie follows with a wildcard. “The color is red.”

“Yes!” Richie pipes up with a triumphant shriek. To the horror of everyone, he places down a red skip card in the middle. Stan stares at him silently with contempt.

“Nice one, idiot, now we know what color you have the most cards for.” Eddie says, his tone snide and condescending as he shuffles through his own hand.

“Yeah, and now the color is yellow.” Angel announces, placing down another wildcard.

“NO!” Richie howls. The room flares up again with laughter.

They continue in their childish game, taking one round into the next and then a third and a fourth after that. Bill was a silent and unassuming winner, taking home the gold in the first two games and Stan and Angel taking home the third and fourth. As time goes on everyone is growing increasingly bitter at one another, a cloud of competitive loathing settling over all of them as they fight to best the next player. Angel could sense the tension growing in the air, tension surely unavoidable in such a high stakes game as this, and couldn’t stop herself from becoming consumed in the heat of it as well. She’s sitting crosslegged on the couch, leaning forward in her anticipation for the next move, waiting to see what pandemonium surely awaits with the placement of each new card. After a while, though, they all fall into caustic silence. The clock ticks insistently overhead. The chatter on the TV seems to grow louder in the increasing absence of sound. Then the matter-of-fact words of a news reporter gradually intrudes in on their collective thoughts, and before they know it grim conversation is born from the quiet.

“Who knows who’s doing it?” Eds had said. “I hear about this shit constantly, but they never seem to catch anyone.” He sets down a blue four. “Your turn Bill.”

Bill puts down a green four. “Yeah, it’s... It’s ruh-really weird. T-two kids from a grade down went m-m-missing in the last month. The p-police don’t even have leads on them, and it's been weeks.” He says quietly. Angel feels her stomach start to roil with something unpleasant but she ignores it. She puts down a green six and doesn’t say anything.

“It feels like the police don’t even care.” Stan adds, placing down a card of his own. “I mean, they say they’re looking for the missing people, but my dad says that’s just a bunch of bullshit posturing.”

“Really, Rabbi Uris said that?” Angel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well,” Stan says sheepishly. “Not in those exact words.”

“I don’t know, man, it just feels like things have been different lately.” Eddie says, placing down a reverse card. “Things haven’t really been the same since... You know, ever since...”

Ever since Georgie.

They all fall into discontented silence. Bill is the quietest of them all. The TV continues on behind them, unphased.

“...Hey, uh, can we get a fuckin’ change of scenery in here?” Richie breaks the silence loudly. There’s an uncharacteristic nervous edge to his voice. “I hate the news- it's, uh, it’s killing my buzz, know what I mean?”

They all immediately agree. Angel picks up the remote. “Good idea.” She says uneasily. She starts to flip through the various available channels.

“Your turn again Angel.”

“Oh. Uh...” She interrupts herself to place a card into the middle and then refocuses her attention back on the screen. There’s a baseball game on Channel 4, a hokey soap opera on Channel 10, a couple dull historical documentaries on Channels 14 and 15... Yawn. She continues. Even Channel 27 was nothing but static. She sighs and gets up, disrupting the game briefly to pluck a movie off the shelf instead. She slides her choice into the VCR slot and lets it play, comforted by the familiar sound of product-placement ads she’d heard a thousand times before. Everyone else seems instantly placated by the change of tone in the room too. The Paramount Pictures logo flashes briefly over the screen, and then the sound of a radio host announcing the beautiful weather in the city of Chicago cuts in sharply over the silence.

“Ferris Bueller?” Richie mutters absentmindedly, his eyes flickering up to the TV as he rifles through his cards. “Good choice, Anj.”

“...Ferris? Ferris? Tooooom!”

Two well-to-do parents are fussing over their apparently sickly child. “What, what’s wrong?” His father asks.

“What’s wrong ? For Christ’s sake look at him honey!”

He’s laying in bed, eyes wide as saucers, staring off into space. His father says his name and his spacey stare rolls lazily upward. He seems dazed and fatigued but it’s clearly an act, his voice child-like as he addresses them from under the covers and dramatically plays up his imagined illness. His theatrical performance is laughable and thin but somehow they miraculously buy into it anyway, even insisting he stay in bed as he makes meek attempts to sit up. “I have a test today,” He says, in intentionally weak protest. “I have to take it. I wanna go to a good college so I can have a fruitful life.” His mother adamantly refuses out of concern. “Honey, you’re not going to school like this now.” Cynical big sister arrives in the room, rightly skeptical of her brother’s supposed ailment but is nonetheless dismissed by her family anyway.

“I’m okay,” Ferris says after she’s gone. “I’ll just sleep. Maybe I’ll have an aspirin around noon.”

After not much deliberation, the parents both agree to let him stay home, telling him they’ll check on him and to call them at work should he need anything. He hams it up even more, buttering them up with weak praise, lauding them for being such loving, caring parents, and they both bid him an affectionate goodbye. They start to leave the room, and his mother tells him she loves him before starting to shut the door behind her. There’s silence. After all is well and the boy is alone in his room, he cautiously sits up in bed. He listens to the door close, and then his eyes dart to the center of the screen. He’s smug.

“They bought it.”

The game continues on as though it had never been disturbed. The unpleasant conversation of before is nothing but a distant memory now, their minds now engrossed in the intense heat of competition once more. A fifth game turns into a sixth, and the better part of an hour passes over their preoccupation. Though the kids seem to have forgotten the grim topic of the disappearances, Angel is less fortunate, and whether she likes it or not, thoughts of it all are starting to stew in her mind again. It was true, Angel had been able to dodge these ruminations lately as a result of her lovesick euphoria, but they had all been buried in a shallow grave rather than six feet under. It was hard to ignore the unease creeping up when she was reminded of everything she’d heard and experienced, and then slowly but surely those thoughts would come rising to the surface again for her lack of delight. She didn’t like thinking of it, of any of it. If she’d had her way, she would happily keep her head buried in the sand with Pennywise and never let her mind linger on any of it ever again. But no such luck unfortunately. The only thing worse than being aware of such strange and ominous dealings was the frustrating knowledge of knowing there was nothing you could do to stop them. Angel had given up a long time ago on any foolish notion of ending whatever force of evil lurked within the town, not that she ever truly had had such a notion in the first place. No, Angel was more than aware that she was fairly inconsequential to this town, even as an apparent fascination for an esoteric guardian angel, and that there was little chance at all she might have any sway over its cosmic fate. But it didn’t stop her from feeling guilty about it all. It was such a futile and helpless feeling she couldn’t control.

Angel pushes it from her mind and tries to become consumed in the game again. In the process her mind starts to wander to other places, and she wonders where Pennywise might be now. He hadn’t been around much in the last few days; though of course, when he wasn’t whispering in her ear or monopolizing her attention on the TV, he was present in other ways. He would leave her gifts and notes just as he had done before, and they were more affectionate now, more personal. He’d leave her things that specifically catered to her interests. Special inking pens he’d conjured up from god only knows where, little pinback buttons and squares of fabric perfect for patch-making, her favorite candies from childhood... She thought it so sweet that he was trying so hard to keep her interest. It was refreshing and new and she, so enamored with him, leaned into the attention wholeheartedly. Pennywise knew it to be important to keep laying on the charm, knew it was crucial to continue in his courting behavior, but he had held off on continuing to be there with her in person, at least for the time being. He wanted her to long for his touch and his presence, wanted her to want him there, holding her, keeping her within the unwavering security of his protection. The time was coming for him to make his return, however, and the reunion would be so sweet, so delightful, the beginning of a new stage in their budding relationship. He had been so patient in the weeks following Valentine’s Day, and now he simply couldn’t wait to be with her again. He would come back to her, and she would welcome him with open arms.

“Oh, you motherfucker.” Richie breathed.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off had finally reached its third act, and now focused on a conversation between the eponymous character’s girlfriend and best friend. They walk through Chicago’s crowded downtown thoroughfares during a lively parade, discussing Ferris and his whereabouts, seeming to have lost him somewhere in the crowd along the way. They’re meandering through hundreds of people trying to find him, the chatter around them loud and boisterous as they make their way down the congested street. The kids paid little attention to the movie, focused instead on the happenings within the fascinating yet frustrating world of Uno. Angel finds herself having forgotten about Pennywise and everything else for the time being, having gotten absorbed in the game herself once more. Bill had a tally of three games won now, Stan with two, Rich with one, Eddie with four somehow, and Angel with two, but the group had now forgotten how many games they’d played, having gotten lost in it for hours. They were playing through the deck for the umpteenth time, and this one had been a real nail biter so far. So many twists and turns, flimsy alliances turned inevitable betrayals, and obscenities shouted at one another that it was truly a sight to behold. At one point Mayor Jello had sauntered into the room, gotten a good, long look at the unfolding commotion, and promptly slinked back out to attend to his own matters.

“You can’t stack draw fours!” Richie had exclaimed incredulously. “That’s against the rules!”

“Nuh uh.” Angel informs him, reclining back on the couch. “House rules. Stacked draw twos and draw fours are totally free game.”

“Yeah, Richie. Read ‘em and weep.” Eds says smugly.

“Fuck that shit!” He’s appalled. “I refuse to honor three stacked draw fours!”

Psst.

“You can’t just refuse, dipshit!”

“Like hell I can’t! I’ve got seventeen cards already, it’s not fair!”

“You’re being a sore loser, Rich.” Stan sighed.

Psst. Hey.

They continue to squabble amongst themselves. Richie is adamant and will not budge, and everyone else is needling him to simply honor it and move on.

“Okay then, if you pussies get to stack draw fours, then I get to do this.” He throws down a blue reverse card.

“Hey, you can’t do that!”

“Sure I can. If you get a pass on breaking the rules then I get a pass too.” Richie says with a shrug. “Draw twelve, asshole.”

“I’m not drawing twelve, Richie!”

Psst.

She finally hears it. Her ears perk up.

Angel.

While they’re arguing, she feels a shiver run up her spine, and she turns to face the source of the sound. The TV. The movie is still playing, Alan Ruck and Mia Sara still journeying through downtown Chicago, the crowd still chattering on in an endless chorus of white noise. A voice starts to address them from a P.A speaker; one familiar, smooth and lilting, but nothing at all like Ferris’s.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’re such a wonderful crowd. We’d like to play a little tune for you. It’s one of my personal favorites, and I’d like to dedicate it to a very special girl who doesn’t know just how special she is. Angel, darling, look at me.”

She stares hard, her whole world dissolving into static around her. The camera shot falls on a parade float in the center of the screen, but instead of Ferris dramatically lip syncing the words to Danke Schoen on the stage, Pennywise has bafflingly taken his place on the screen somehow. She’s warm now, she can’t believe her eyes as he walks among the costumed dancers, miming the words and playfully gesturing with his hands toward the center of the screen. He was singing to her.

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

Picture shows, second balcony was the place we'd meet

Second seat, go Dutch treat, you were sweet

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Save those lies, darling don't explain

I recall Central Park in fall

How you tore your dress, what a mess, I confess, that’s not all

He turns to face her completely now, and the movie continues on without him uninterrupted. The children don’t seem to notice his voice, or his presence on the TV. They simply proceed in their heated contention. It's just him and her.

“Hello, sweetness. It's so nice to see your lovely face again.”

Warm phantom hands cup her hips now and she has to resist the urge to gasp. He’s firm but affectionate.

“Uh uh, precious girl. Keep it quiet, would you? Wouldn’t want them to catch on to us, hmm?”

She gulps with a nod and holds her breath as those hands start to wander up, over her clothes, toward her cotton-clad breasts.

“Yes... I’m sure you’re not ready to have that conversation, are you? Wouldn’t even know how to explain it... Oh, look at you, your face is already all red. Cute little Angel. Cute cute cute!”

His hands ghost delicately over her breasts and go to her collarbone, stroking sensually there with one feather-light finger until she’s squirming. He cups her cheek now.

“Oh, darling... How good your skin feels underneath my fingers… Did you like my song? Did you find it as lovely as I find you? Oh, hold on- I think I have another one coming up.”

You had better watch me.

Richie smacks Eddie’s cards out of his hand and the argument flares up again. Angel doesn’t even process it. She’s off in her own world now, and his touch is so titillating that she feels that tingle start to work its way from her belly all the way between her legs again, even as Twist and Shout comes on over the loudspeaker. Pennywise is lip-syncing the words to the upbeat number now, shimmying and dancing on the parade float as he pretends to sing into the microphone. All the while those hands are continuing to grope at her body, lewdly venturing over her curves while a marching band spiritedly plays along to the tune. They follow the beats of the song with brassy enthusiasm.

Well, shake it up, baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

Well, work it on out

You know you look so good

You know you got me goin' now

Just like I know you would

Pennywise is bolstered by the excitement of the crowd and the sheer look on Angel’s face, the way she can’t keep her eyes off him and his on-screen antics. A small flash mob starts to form in a plaza and they mime the words too as they dance down a small flight of concrete steps. The entirety of the parade seems to have congregated around the float in a circle now; the parade-goers are all caught in their own rhythm, moving in different fashions but all in tandem at the same time as they sing along. And all the while Angel is staring, her heart pulsing restlessly inside of her, ignorant of the kids’ growing dissent amongst one another.

Well, shake it up, baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

You know you twist, little girl

You know you twist so fine

Come on and twist a little closer now

And let me know that you're mine

That feeling inside of her belly is only growing more and more as she watches him. The way he struts and sashays across the stage of the float, the way he performs so electrically that it riles up the whole crowd; she can hear the bells on his suit jingling with every one of his movements, the sound ringing in her ears as she fights to maintain some semblance of normalcy and composure. And all the while his eyes keep flickering back into hers, reminding her just who he was singing to, just who he was doing this all for.

Who she belonged to.

“Angel, tell Richie he’s being fucking ridiculous!” Eddie demands, and suddenly she snaps back into focus.

“You’re the one who’s being ridiculous! Now you’re telling me you can use a fucking skip card on yourself?”

“Yeah, I figured if we’re all breaking rules, why not?”

“That just passes the draw twelve onto Bill! He doesn’t deserve that!”

“Oh, so I do deserve it?”

“Guys, for the love of god, shut up!” Angel practically roars, her assessment of the situation all suddenly caught up again.

They all fall quiet. She sighs a labored sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she glances at the TV screen out of the corner of her eye, she notices the movie is back to normal. No Pennywise miming the words to Twist and Shout, no saucy side glances or teasing little gestures, just Ferris amid the cheering parade crowd. She can’t feel his hands anymore either.

“You know guys,” She says with another heaving sigh. “It's getting late- I think you should probably be heading home after this game.”

“Okay but-”

“Richie, just take the damn loss and draw twelve, I’m not gonna watch you two bicker and argue for another three hours.”

He sulks. “Fiiiiiine.” He draws his cards, angry cloud of chagrin palpable in a three foot radius around him.

The game continues. As they slowly make their way through the rest of the deck, Angel finds her thoughts wandering back to Pennywise; wondering where he had gone, if he might come back, finding that she missed him and his touch, not that it was at all surprising. The children have come to a stiff truce and are now quietly placing their cards into the center pile, leaving her to continue stewing over his whereabouts. To tell the truth, the sight of him was such a pleasant surprise that she’d gotten a little… Excited. She hadn’t seen him in days, had only kept correspondence with him through the gifts. He hadn’t even been talking to her all that much; the last time she’d heard his voice was on Tuesday as she had been drifting off to sleep, and though she hadn’t dreamt of him, she could still feel his presence keeping her warm throughout the night. But after that, nothing. If not for the gifts, she would have thought that he was abandoning her again, would have sent that familiar panicky dread roiling up in her gut at the idea of being left behind, but thankfully there was no such feeling of alienation. There was only this delicious feeling of want and desire, bubbling up inside of her as she watched him dance and perform; just for her, only for her, making her feel special. It was a feeling that only seemed to become more apparent as the days went on, this delightful little feeling that made her start to lose her grip on reality. She starts to get lost in that wonderful madness, vacantly placing cards into the pile with every turn, silently contemplating the scenario of his return and finding that a blush was starting to stain her cheeks again at the thought of him. His tall form, his striking eyes, those massive hands; towering over her, looking into her, pinning her against the wall-

“Dirty, dirty, naughty little girl.” His voice whispers directly in her ear. “You’ve got company over, you should control yourself.”

She almost gasps but she restrains herself. She can hear the smile in his voice, can almost see him wagging a finger at her.

“...Need to wait, little thing, need to be patient.” The phantom hands are back at her waist, slowly trailing down to rest at her hips again. Soft and gentle, comforting and sweet. It drives her mad.

“Reverse card. Angel, it’s your turn.”

Suddenly she’s not paying attention again. She’s whining silently, she’s screaming at him in her mind and that only seems to please him more. His voice evokes a shit-eating grin now.

“Wouldn’t… Want to rush things, would we? No, no… We should take our time, we should savor it all…”

Those hands are wandering lower, lower, ever so slightly…

“Angel?”

Her heart is thundering against her chest. She swallows hard, staring off into the space at her feet as she sits, rooted to the spot. He chuckles in her ear as he watches her squirm, clearly delighted at her embarrassment. “Orrrrrr…” He whispers. Her heart stops.

“Angel, are you okay?”

“Maybe... Just maybe... We should throw all that caution to the wind, be bold, adventurous. Maybe I should just wait until they leave. Maybe I should wait until you’re all alone, and then I’ll come... I’ll back you up against the wall, corner you with no escape like a pretty little mouse. Tell me, would you like that?” His hand trails inward, his voice raspy and sonorous in her ear, and her breath hitches in her throat when it brushes up against the tender spot between her legs.

“How about it, pretty girl?”

How about it?

“P-Pennywise…” She breathes.

"Dude, she’s zoned out.”

“Angel!”

She snaps out of it.

“What? What?” She’s pressing her hands to her hot cheeks.

“You spaced out.”

“Are you okay?”

“...What’s P-P-Pennywise?”

She shakes her head quickly. “Sorry, I…” She finally processes the last question and feels her cheeks getting hotter again underneath her fingers. “Nothing, no one.” She clears her throat and thumbs through her hand, placing a red six into the center pile. But his voice is still there, calling to her, teasing her, needling her, just trying to get her to break.

“...Hey Angel,” he breathes huskily. “Wanna hear a poem I wrote for you? It goes like this- Roses are red, violets are fine, you be the six, and I’ll be the--”

Stop. Stop. She tries her best to look normal now but she’s starting to sweat profusely. They continue in the game; there’s a palpable uneasiness settling over all of them but each and every one of them just tries to ignore it. Red nine, red four, blue four, blue skip; blue seven, green seven, wildcard yellow, draw four. Angel is trying her best to ignore him, ignore his little games and rhyming; ignore the pleasure building inside despite her greatest attempts to fight it off, ignore her embarrassment and the way she could feel them all staring at her. The day was long now and she wanted them to go so it could finally be over. She places down another card.

“Oh ho ho, I can see how flustered you are, darling! Poor girl, poor little pet… Be careful now, they’re starting to worry…”

She’s so frustrated that she can hardly breathe. Her face feels like a furnace. She can’t even look them in the face now as she continues laying cards down into the middle of the pile; she can only keep her eyes rooted shamefully at her feet as she listens to the clock tick judgmentally overhead. The minutes crawl by at a snail’s pace, but thankfully the game is nearing its end. Pennywise continues his teasing though, content to torture Angel with his words and devilish sing-song as she fights to maintain her thinly-veiled facade. Stan appears to be pulling ahead, he’s about to call Uno but then-

“Pennywise and Angel sittin’ in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N--”

“OKAY!” She cries out suddenly. They all jump about ten feet off the ground. She immediately processes her outburst, and now she chokes, she struggles to explain herself. “It’s uh…. It’s getting late guys. I think,” She swallows. “Think you should all be getting home.”

“Jesus Christ, are you okay? Your face is on fuckin’ fire dude.”

“I’m fine!” She insists. “I’m just… Not feeling good. But I’ll be okay, I just need to sleep.”

“Angel-”

“Talk soon?”

She practically pushes them all out the door, and they leave behind a mess of Uno cards amid their protest. She reiterates that she’s fine and then they all hesitantly bid her goodbye from her stoop, further unnerved when she doesn’t even reply. She shuts the door, she takes a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. All of his teasing had gotten to her more than she cared to admit; she couldn't help it, no one had ever shown her such attention before, especially not... That kind of attention, not unless they were trying to be insulting. She found it facetious, vulgar in a way that was amusing and fun, though she'd be lying if she said the time and place could not have been any more inappropriate. The worries of what the kids must think is slowly seeping into her brain and she feels her face getting red all over again. What would they think if they... If they knew? It's not as though it were anything bad, she just... Wouldn't know how to explain any of it. How he had romanced her with all of his gifts, the way they'd met... The things he was saying. Oh god. They were privy to a lot of dirty jokes, sure, (Lord knows Richie was incapable of working anything but blue) but she simply couldn't divulge such intimate details of her own romantic courtship like that, they had no business in it. She's sure they wouldn't understand anyway, that they might misconstrue his intentions and try to convince her that he was bad news or something. Children though they were, they were much more mature than most of the adults in this town, and they were not immune to being overprotective of her. She tries not to let her concerns get to her so much, not right now. Now, all she could do was simply splash cold water on her face, put all the Uno cards back where they came from, and leave this mortifying ordeal behind her. She takes another deep breath and sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing her face tiredly. She counts to five and when she turns around she has to bite back a breathless shriek.

#pennywise #daddywise #chapter fourteen #games #it 2017 #it chapter one #pennywise x oc #pennywise x angel #good fortune

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 30 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Dramaaaa tonight, enjoy! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Willam finally got into Fame’s office, and Pearl got back on track with Violet--or so she thought.

This Chapter: Courtney and Pearl are both in for a very rude awakening, but someone is in the right place at the right time.

***

Courtney hurried out of Fame’s office, shutting the door firmly behind her.

“Oh, hey.” Alaska looked up from her desk, where she was writing a note. “I thought you’d stepped out, so I was...is everything okay? You look like you’ve been running.”

Courtney hated to lie, and especially to Alaska, who’d been so wonderful to her, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“Oh, yeah, I was just, um, doing some deep cleaning so that everything will be nice when Miss Fame comes back. More strenuous work than I expected…” She gave a nervous laugh.

“Okay…” Alaska pressed her lips together, clearly not 100% convinced, but thankfully willing to let it drop for now. “I came to talk about Miss Fame’s schedule, because we’re starting that campaign and she’s the most important part of it.”

“Right, of course.” Courtney scurried into her desk chair, trying not to worry about Willam, trapped in Fame’s office, just hoping he’d stay quiet until Alaska’s business was through, when she’d hurry him out.

It was a terrible idea, inviting him here, and she already regretted it. When they spoke this morning, she thought that having him come by would be a nice break in the day, something that would make her feel good, but instead the whole thing was just an anxious nightmare, completely not worth it.

Alaska dragged over a seat and pulled out her notebook as Courtney opened her calendar. It took them a few minutes, but finally, she seemed satisfied with the tentative dates that Courtney provided.

“I think we can make it work,” she sighed, sitting back. “I didn’t think about what a logistical nightmare this would be when I pitched the idea.”

Courtney smiled. “It’s a good idea, though. I mean, that’s why people are buying Galactica makeup, right? So that they can pretend, even just for a little while, that they’re as glamorous as Miss Fame?”

“Exactly.” Alaska smiled at her. “So…I believe we owe ourselves a tea party, don’t we?”

“Oh, um…” Courtney’s gaze shifted to Miss Fame’s office, where she knew Willam was still waiting.

“Come on, you can take a little break. After all, it’s almost 9 pm in Paris, right?”

“Yeah, true.” Courtney sighed. Willam would be fine, he’d just have to wait. “I’ll go turn on the kettle.”

She rose and walked towards the little kitchenette, Alaska following her to assist, helping her get cups and saucers down from the shelf, putting everything on a tray. Alaska was truly different than the other executives at this company, who always expected to be served. It wasn’t that Courtney minded doing it--after all, that was her job--it was just that some people had the tendency to look right through her, barely acknowledging her as a person. It got a little tedious after awhile.

Alaska was different, despite being a department head. She always looked right into her eyes when they spoke, always said thank you when anyone gave her anything, and lent a hand whenever she could.

“So...how’s it been going? You’re been here for awhile, are you settling in okay?” Alaska asked.

“Yeah, it’s been...I think I’m starting to get the hang of things.”

“I bet you’re enjoying the freedom of having the boss lady out of town, huh?” Alaska’s brown eyes twinkled conspiratorially.

“Well, uh...actually, it’ll be nice to have them back,” Courtney said honestly. “I mean, I’ll definitely be super relieved when Violet’s back.”

“Yeah, I imagine that running the office on your own is a handful,” Alaska said, stirring her tea thoughtfully.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took a sip of her tea, wishing once again that she worked for Alaska. She was so kind and understanding.

The sound of muffled, distant clattering made Alaska��s head snap up sharply, and Courtney cringed inwardly.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Courtney asked, twirling a lock of blonde hair in her fingers.

“It sounded like it was coming from inside Miss Fame’s office,” Alaska said.

“Oh, um, I don’t think that’s…” It was no use. The bright pink flush creeping into her cheeks was a dead giveaway, and as Courtney trailed off, Alaska put her hands on her hips.

“Who’s in there, Courtney?”

Courtney gulped, admitting, “My boyfriend…”

“Ugh, Courtney…” Alaska clucked disapprovingly, walking over to the door, using the key card clipped to Courtney’s skirt to open the door. “You!”

She pointed at Willam, who was busily cleaning up papers he’d somehow knocked off Miss Fame’s desk.

“Playtime’s over. Say goodbye and be on your way.” Alaska snapped her fingers and Willam hurried out of the office.

“I’m sorry, Alaska, I know it was stupid, please don’t tell-” Courtney began, but Alaska was scrutizing Willam with narrowed eyes.

“What’s your name?” she asked, and he blanched, but Courtney quickly stood in front of him.

“It’s not his fault. I’m the one who suggested we go into the office. I just wanted a few minutes of privacy, but I know it was dumb.” She turned to Willam, saying, “You should go. I’ll call you later.”

Willam nodded, bolting from the office quickly, practically running to get to the elevators. Even though that’s what Courtney had asked him to do, she couldn’t help be a little annoyed at how eagerly he’d gone, a strange spring in his step, not looking the slightest bit regretful. But there wasn’t time to dwell on that right now.

Courtney faced Alaska again, steeling her shoulders, prepared for the worst.

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

Alaska tapped her long nails against Courtney’s desk, thinking.

“I know that kid.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, but I just can’t remember how…” She squinted, trying to place him.

“Well, maybe you-”

“Oh, shit.” Alaska pulled up her phone, tapping away on the screen, making Courtney grow agitated.

“What are you doing?”

“Hoping I’m wrong, for your sake…” Alaska finally found what she’s looking for, heaving a deep sigh. “Here.”

She slid the phone across the desk, over to where Courtney stood.

“I knew I’d seen him around. His husband is an accountant, he does my taxes.”

“Husband?” A terrible, terrible feeling began to creep into Courtney’s stomach. Willam was married? To a man?

“Yeah.”

Courtney picked the phone up slowly. That was Willam, alright. Willam with his arms wrapped around a handsome older man, Willam with the same man and a group of other guys on the beach, Willam with the man and a huge Saint Bernard.

A million confusing thoughts swirled in Courtney’s head, and she sat down heavily, trying to make heads or tails of them. Was Willam cheating on his husband with her? And if he was, why the slow, chaste, Victorian courtship? Even today, in Miss Fame’s office, she was the one who took things to the next level. She was the one grinding against him, trying desperately to feel something, to prove to herself that this was more than just a platonic relationship.

She’d known, of course, that their (lack of) chemistry was weird. But she thought it was due to Willam being respectful, and to her own hang-ups about guys. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“I think you better ask your boyfriend some questions, Courtney,” Alaska said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah.”

What she really needed was to talk to someone about this. Someone who understood her, someone who could help her sort through her confusion. After Alaska left the office, she immediately went to her purse to pull out her personal cell, calling the one person she knew could help her feel less alone.

***

“And this one,” Pearl grinned. She was showing Violet the photos she had taken that day, their legs pressed together. “Matches her dog perfectly.”

“What?” Violet looked up from her vodka cranberry, a smile on her lips, and Pearl couldn’t get over how sweet she was, how beautiful she looked.

They were sitting at the bar at an overly fancy cocktail hour, both of them waiting for Fame. They were on the outskirts of the party, everyone else rubbing elbows and kissing ass, but Pearl didn’t care about any of that, not when she had Violet’s attention.

It felt great to finally be okay again, to be them. Pearl flirted with a lot of different women, and had slept with quite a few since that fateful night at the Fashion Fund party, but this was something else, something special.

“I’m serious.” Pearl smiled, and Violet reached out, trying to grab the phone, her chest bumping against her arm.

Pearl didn’t want to be too forward in her advances, they had a week in the city of love after all, but if the way Violet’s eyes shone was any indication, if the giggle in her voice held any promise at all, they’d be curled up in bed together soon enough.

“Damn pumpkin, getting frisky huh?” Pearl raised an eyebrow, making sure that Violet saw that she was attempting to look down her top.

“Pearl-” Violet groaned, sitting up straight, holding a hand in front of herself to make sure Pearl couldn’t see anything at all.

“Just wanted to check if you were wearing a bra.” Pearl grinned, the fact that Violet was blushing the exact reaction she had gunned for.

It felt great to be back on track, to be able to play Violet again, the other woman so perfectly easy once Pearl wormed her way under her skin.

“You do know that Galactica has a strict policy about appropriate public behavior.” Pearl reached for her drink, making sure that her leg was glued to Violet’s. She couldn’t remember much from when Violet had fixed her up, but she did remember the other woman nagging her about the company guidelines.

“Please.” Violet rolled her eyes, but Pearl could see the smile lurking in the corner of her mouth. “Like you ever cared for a policy in your life.”

“Oh I care, Violet.” Pearl smirked. “I care very, very deeply.”

Violet snorted, a short laugh leaving her. “Show me the photo.”

“Ask nicely.”

“You’re so annoying.” Violet went for the phone again, but Pearl put an arm around her back, her hand resting on her hip.

“You love me.” Pearl grinned as she tilted her phone, showing Violet the photo of a woman who was wearing an outfit entirely with black and white polkadots, a dalmatian sitting by her side.

“Oh my god.” Violet looked up, a gigantic smile on her lips. “This is amazing!”

Pearl grinned, turning slightly so she could rest her cheek against Violet’s head, the smell of her hair in her nose. It was incredibly intimate, Violet flicking through her phone.

She could stay here forever, Violet commenting on everyone’s outfits, fashion a subject she could discuss endlessly.

“So,” Pearl used her free hand to reach up, gently touching Violet’s hair as she tucked it behind her ear.

“Hey,” Violet giggled, trying to twist away , but Pearl held her close, “that tickles-”

“Violet,” Pearl twisted her upper body, Violet looking straight at her. “Do you want to-”

In that exact moment, Violet’s phone started vibrating, and Pearl groaned.

Violet raised a brow, clearly not understanding why Pearl was acting that way as she reached for her phone.

“You don’t have to take the call.” Pearl tried to put her hand on top of Violet’s, “We’re having fun, right?”

“Pearl,” Violet sighed, evading her hand. “Please.”

Violet took her phone, turning the screen. Pearl had expected it to be Fame, for Violet to look exasperated, but instead, her entire face lit up as she accepted the call.

“Hello?” Violet smiled.

“Who are you talking to?”

Violet ignored Pearl, not answering her question.

“Mmh. Yes. Yes, I’m at the bar. Where are you?”

She stood up, shaking Pearl’s hand off before she turned around.

“Ah!” Violet grinned. “I see you.”

Without as much as looking at her, Violet left, not even giving Pearl the chance to say anything else.

Pearl turned, confused and annoyed at what could possibly have captured Violet’s attention so thoroughly.

Violet was making a beeline towards Sutan Amrull, stopping in front of him, eyes bright as she eagerly chatted. Pearl had no idea they even knew each other, and Violet never talked like that to anybody, barely even her.

Sutan was Raja’s twin though, so Pearl decided to let it go, the two of them probably discussing something boring and business related.

She had decided not to watch, when Sutan placed an arm around Violet's waist, pulling her in, and Pearl felt her body light on fire.

She was ready to get up, willing to make it a fight if she had to, no one else allowed to touch her Violet like that, good reputations be damned, but then, insteading of struggling to get away, Violet leaned in, placing a sweet but quick kiss against Sutan’s lips, causing Sutan to laugh.

Pearl felt her jaw drop, her fingers tightening around her glas.

What the fuck? Was Violet with Sutan?

Pearl bit her lip, hurt rushing over her, her stomach clenching.

Had she been acting a fool?

Pearl Liaison always got what she wanted, but as she watched Violet, a sense of dread settled over her.

Sutan had to have been the man at the bar. There was no other way around it, all the puzzle pieces falling into place.

Pearl emptied her drink in one big gulp, the alcohol burning on its way down. She flagged the bartender, ordering another drink, determined to drown her sorrows.

She had decided on alcohol, had figured that would be the quickest way to forget how humiliated she felt, but as Pearl made her way through her third cocktail, she spotted Adore from across the bar, the other woman in deep conversation with Raven.

***

Adore was in ecstasy, finally getting the attention from Pearl that she’d been craving, not even caring that it was happening pressed against the sinks in a club bathroom. Her mind was empty of everything except Pearl’s fingers expertly working her into a quivering mess, those sleepy, knowing eyes raking over her body as she arched into Pearl’s touch.

It was so hot, the way Pearl had caught her eye and then marched over, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her roughly into the nearby restroom. The dominant, brooding energy she was exuding right now was everything Adore wanted, made her heart pound with excitement and just a perfect hint of fear.

“Someone’s obsessed with you,” Pearl murmured into her ear, making her shiver.

“Mmm?”

“You’re buzzing out of control,” Pearl clarified, gesturing to the phone in Adore’s jacket pocket.

“Oh...sorry.”

Adore pulled the phone out, quickly shutting it off and stuffing it back into her pocket just as Pearl’s fingers curled against her g-spot, making her cry out. Whoever was trying to reach her would just have to understand.

“Omigod, Pearl, yes! Right there…” Adore moaned.

“Come for me, baby,” Pearl husked into her ear, then sank her teeth into a particularly tender spot on her neck.

Adore gasped, hips rolling, fingers tangled in Pearl’s hair.

“I’m coming, I’m coming...oh gooood…”

***

Willam was so screwed. On the subway, he’d gleefully clicked through all of the pictures, only to have his heart fall further and further with every one. The whole mission had been absolutely futile. Page after page of design ideas, marketing notes. The only thing remotely scandalous was a vibrator in the bottom drawer of her desk, a locked part he had to jimmy open with a paperclip, but even that amounted to a big Who Cares.

Certainly not groundbreaking journalism.

But he couldn’t give up. Not when he’d come so far. There had to be something. So he took a deep breath and fired off a few texts to Courtney.

WILLAM: Hey beautiful, so sorry for racing out like that

WILLAM: I hope I didn’t get you in trouble

WILLAM: Are you okay, baby?

The response had been entirely unlike her. ‘Meet me at Radicchio. 7.’

No emojis, no exclamation points - nothing cute or flirty to tell him that things were still good. Which meant that they probably weren’t. That this wasn’t gonna be a nice, normal date, but in fact a Serious Talk, which was just not something Willam had prepared for in this plan.

Part of Willam thought he should just ignore it. Cut ties, walk away, be done with the whole thing. File this one as a loss and move on. But the stubborn part still didn’t want to give up. He’d lost his fucking job over this story, how could he just drop it without a second thought? So she might be mad, he might need to do a little damage control. He could handle that, right?

When Courtney entered the restaurant, he was already sitting at a booth waiting, hands folded in front of him. He jumped up, moving to give her a hug, but she avoided him and instead sat down, stone-faced.

Courtney didn’t remove her jacket or take her purse off her shoulder. More very bad signs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Willam asked carefully, reaching for her hand. “I’m sorry for leaving you, I didn’t think it would help you to make a scene, I just-”

“Are you married?”

Willam flinched. He’d been so incredibly careful to mask his personal life. He’d deleted his Facebook account, only communicating through that fake Instagram he’d set up to talk to her. How could she possibly have found out?

“Why would you...why would you ask that?” he ventured.

“Oh god.” Courtney closed her eyes briefly. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re married. To a man.”

“Well, I-listen. It’s not a traditional marriage, we have an open-”

“Then why not tell me?” Courtney demanded, then answered her own question, shaking her head. “Are you even attracted to me? You’re obviously not. I guess I knew, but I just wanted so badly for this to be real, I’m such an idiot-”

“Courtney, listen-”

“No! I don’t get it, is this just some kind of sick game? Why? Why all the lies? Why pretend that you like me?”

Willam shut his eyes. A million excuses were on the tip of his tongue, lies to cover up lies, but none of them would work. None of them would satisfy her. He could see that clear as day.

“I’m sorry. Okay? Really. I didn’t mean for it to go on this long, I thought I’d get something I could use much quicker-”

“Something you could use?” Courtney’s eyes suddenly widened as she put the pieces together, and that’s when Willam understood, until that moment she wasn’t even thinking about his job, about the fact that he was a journalist, about how much she’d told him.

“I would probably have dropped it, but then I got fired, and I needed something, Court, I really-”

“So all of this...all of this was for a story?” she spit out.

“I...yeah.” Willam swallowed, looking at the horrified expression on her face, the single tear that slid down her cheek. God, what a mess. There was nothing he could say now to win back her trust, so he might as well unburden himself.

“I really thought there was something, something big that Fame was hiding, especially after Detox got so angry, and-”

“Oh god.” Courtney covered her mouth. “And I left you in there, alone. I’m not even supposed to be in there alone. What did you do? What did you find? Oh god, I’m gonna be fired.”

She was starting to panic, gripping the edge of the table, breathing growing shallow. Willam shook his head vigorously.

“Nothing! Okay? I found nothing. Here, look for yourself…” Willam opened his photos and shoved his phone across the table. “It’s just fucking fabric samples and design notes and marketing plans. That’s it. I can delete it right now if you want.”

“And how do I know this is everything? How do I know you’re not gonna fuck me over?” Courtney asked, green eyes red and watery.

Willam hung his head for a moment. He didn’t mean for this to happen. She was just a nice kid, maybe a little too trusting, maybe a little over her head, and seeing her brokenhearted face made him feel more wretched than he ever had.

“You don’t,” he finally said, looking directly into her eyes for the first time that night. “You don’t, you just have my word, which...I guess you already know is worth jack shit.”

Courtney handed Willam’s phone back to him, shaking his head.

“It would serve me right if I did get fired,” she said, voice breaking. “Because I was stupid enough to think you were a nice guy.”

“Courtney-”

“Goodbye, Willam.”

She stood up abruptly and walked quickly to the door, leaving Willam with nothing but his own guilt.

***

Courtney stood in her tiny studio apartment, looking at her face in the old, scratched-up mirror. She couldn’t remember ever being this humiliated. She felt like an absolute idiot. A grade-A fucking moron. And the worse part, the worst part was that she’d known all along that something wasn’t right.

She’d known it, from the beginning, but she’d gone ahead and trusted him anyway, because he said all the right things and told her everything she wanted to hear. That she was beautiful, she was talented, she was going somewhere.

All of it had been a lie.

And now, she was back to square one, but it was even worse, because she’d allowed herself to voice her deepest fears, about what if she really didn’t have what it takes, what if she’d never make it, what if she was doomed to be a mediocre girl in a mediocre job for her whole life? She’d allowed those thoughts, the ones that used to be buried deep, to come to the surface and rear their ugly heads and now she had to face all of it.

She wasn’t an aspiring actress, or on a path to becoming a musician. She wasn’t anything but an assistant, and even that wasn’t guaranteed, if anyone at Galactica even got a whiff of how majorly she’d fucked up by allowing Willam to get so close. Or if he’d been lying, if he really had gotten something to use and publish--it would immediately be traced back to her. So there was something to keep her awake at night, as if she didn’t have enough.

She closed her eyes, hot tears burning down her cheeks, feeling more alone than she ever had. She was lucky, actually, that Adore didn’t answer earlier, because once she found out Willam’s real reason for playing her, she realized that she could never ever tell Adore, or their other mutual friends, for fear that it would get back to Miss Fame somehow.

That was when Courtney made a promise. She would do whatever it took to make this job work. So she wasn’t Violet, she wasn’t some robotically perfect assistant. Well, she wanted to be an actress, so she’d act like the perfect assistant. She’d show all of them that she could do this job, that she was valuable, and if she really took it seriously, maybe there was a snowball’s chance in hell that she wouldn’t be fired, deported, and sent back to Brisbane a miserable failure.

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srsly-messed-up-fruitloop · 4 years

Text

Tug of War (Ch 2)

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Word Count: 1,756

A month has passed since Danny and Wes had served their detentions (unfortunately Mr. Lancer’s favouritism didn’t extend to Casper’s basketball players). However, like always in the past, the chowder incident didn’t deter Wes from trying to expose him. And like before, Danny just ignored the lunatic’s attempts. At least he hasn’t tried taking any more of his stuff from their shared locker since.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Slamming his locker shut, Danny made his way to find Tucker. It was Tucker’s suggestion to go on patrol right after school since he had something planned later in the evening. However, no matter how many times Danny asked, he wouldn’t say what that something was. Too bad Sam was on vacation now. For sure she would’ve been able to squeeze the truth out of him.

When Danny approached his friend, he was kneeling, with his entire upper body swallowed up his locker.

“Uh, Tuck?”

Without budging from his position, Tucker responded, “Yo Danny, just give me a sec. I just need to finish with this wiring.”

Danny just stood there, observing in the various tools surrounding his friend before his eyes finally settled on an empty box for a George Foreman grill.

“Tuck...you didn’t...”

“Aha!” Tucker exclaimed enthusiastically. He backed out of the locker and admired his work. “Now let’s test this baby out.”

Danny watched wordlessly as he plugged something in a makeshift AC outlet inside the locker. A light beaconed from the top shelf, and there he spotted the grill.

Meanwhile, Tucker jumped up in glee. “Yeah baby! Can’t wait for lunch tomorrow!”

“But…” Danny paused as he noticed the stack of textbooks on the floor by his feet. “What about your textbooks?

Tucker motioned to the empty space at the bottom of the locker. “Thank god Sam took home her shoes, I’m just gonna dump ‘em all there.”

“And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s going to be furious.”

“Let her, I’m doing her a favour. I’m pretty sure you can grill vegetables too,” Tucker said as he began cleaning up.

Danny stooped down to help him. “How did you even get the time to do this?”

He shrugged. “Just did it all in my spare.”

“Wait, you have a spare?”

“Yeah, last period. You didn’t know?”

Danny struggled to recall if Tucker ever told him this. His mind has been a whirl since school started. “I guess I forgot. Hold up, why don’t you go straight home then? You don’t have to wait for us.”

“Nah dude it’s okay, I actually get a lot more done studying at the library here than the entire evening at home,” Tucker assured as he placed the last tool in his backpack. He stood up and fished out his PDA from his pocket, checking off ‘Install grill’ from his to-do list.

“I see what you mean,” Danny understood, remembering how much of a distraction his parents were at home. Now that Jazz had left for Stanford, it seems that his parents have doubled their efforts to spend time with him. He gets it, they missed Jazz a lot. And in less than a year he’ll be gone off to college too (hopefully). Still, they were pretty distracting, especially when they had a new invention or discovery to show off. Thankfully he had a spare next semester.

“So Tuck, before we start, are you gonna tell me your ‘special plans’ later?” he inquired for the last time, trying to inject as much ‘Sam’ into his voice.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’.

Danny pouted. Before he could say anything else, he gasped when an icy fog escaped his mouth.

“Guess we’re starting patrol at the school today,” Tucker stated nonchalantly as he activated the ghost radar on his PDA.

Looking both ways down the hall and confirming no one else was around, Danny transformed.

Meanwhile, peering around the corner of the hallway in his basketball uniform, Wes seethed as he witnessed Fenton’s transformation for the seventeenth time! And like always, he didn’t have his camera with him. Why did basketball tryouts have to be today?

“Dammit!” he exclaimed, angrily stomping back to the gym.

How many times does he have to watch Fenton expose himself before the school finally takes a hint? Why are they so damn oblivious? Three years have passed and he still has yet to open anyone’s eyes to the truth! And Fenton has been masquerading as the town’s hero the entire time!

He doesn’t have much time left. Once he leaves for college, he’ll lose his chance. Sure, he could continue posting on his blog, but the seven visitors he gets every month either think it’s a joke or never heard of Danny Phantom. And who knows where Fenton’s heading after high school. He’d probably be stuck relying on his old evidence. Which isn’t even that effective, considering all the convincing it’s done so far.

Time is running out. He refuses to let all these years go to waste. He’s dedicated his whole being to this. He cannot fail, he needs them to believe him. Otherwise, what has been his purpose all this time?

He can’t—they have to eventually believe him, right? He cannot go down that path again; the world needs him to prove this.

He’s the only person who can.

But what else he could do? He’s come to realize that Mr. Lancer gifted him the perfect opportunity to get close without faking being friends. Yet, except for the thermos that one day, Fenton hasn’t stored anything suspicious in their locker. Fenton must be keeping his weapons in his stupid sidekicks’ locker. That doesn’t help him at all!

There must some advantage to this sharing lockers thing. Some way...the memory of Fenton’s furious green eyes flashed through his mind.

That’s right! Fenton’s temper brings out the ghost in him. And Wes has the perfect opportunity to get under his skin. Once the ghost loses control in front of everyone…

Then he’ll finally fulfill his purpose.

A yawn escaped from Danny as he trudged into school the next day. On autopilot, he grabbed his supplies from his bag and went to phase it into his locker. Except, when he leaned closer and his arm was halfway through the door, he stopped and sniffed. Something reeked.

Scrunching up his nose, he cautiously opened the door and cringed as the stench hit him full force. His eyes darted around the locker until they settled on the source of the offensive smell.

Wes’ basketball uniform. It was innocently lying crumpled at the bottom of the locker, but the stink it was emanating was criminal. He suddenly felt the urge to hurl.

Didn’t Wes ever hear of deodorant? He didn’t know whether to feel disgusted or concerned.

He was tempted to toss it into the trash bin in the hallway, but that would mean touching the smelly jersey and shorts.

Unable to stand it any longer, he kicked his locker shut and quickly retreated to his homeroom, backpack still on him.

“Yo, Danny, you okay?” Tucker asked worriedly, noticing the sick look on his face when he sat down beside him.

Danny shook his head as he placed his books on the desk. “No. I…” he began, pausing when he saw his locker partner enter the classroom. “I need to talk to Wes,” he finished before abruptly standing up and striding towards him.

“What do you want, Fenton?” Wes coldly demanded.

“You left your gym clothes in the locker.”

“Yeah, so? I’ll need them again for practice tomorrow.”

“Wes, they stink.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “It’s not that bad. You should feel lucky you’re not sharing with any of the other jocks.”

“You’re hardly a jock.”

“At least I’m something. Something real. You—you parade around this false loser facade, but I know who you really are Phantom,” he declared, poking him right in the chest. “And one day I’ll expose your true colours to the whole world.”

Danny really wasn’t in the mood this morning. Batting away Wes’ accusing finger, he cut straight to the chase, “Look, please just don’t keep your bas—”

“No.”

The two boys met each other’s eyes in a glaring contest. Neither side wanted to back down. After a moment, Danny continued, “Why not?”

“I’m just as entitled to keep whatever I want in there as you are. You don’t hear me complaining about your ghost hunting equipment.”

He was truly starting to lose his patience now. “No. Instead, you take my lunch and get us detention for spraying it on everyone.”

“Any other day I could’ve exp—”

BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

The two boys jolted as the bell rang.

“We’re not finished here,” Danny grunted before heading back to his seat. Why didn’t he just get rid of that horrible stench right then and there? One ectoblast would’ve surely turned those clothes to ashes.

“Sausage?” Tucker offered when Danny sat at their lunch table.

Danny eyed the smoke swirling from the meat. “Did you just make those?”

“Yup, here, try one,” he said while picking up one with a pair of tongs.

Before accepting it, Danny muttered, “Sam is going to be so mad.”

“I know. Anyways, what went down between you and Wes this morning?”

Danny swallowed a mouthful of sausage before he started, “He left his clothes from basketball practice in our locker.”

“And...?”

“Tuck, they stink.”

“My dude...” He pulled out a can of Foley and pushed it across the table. “You’re lucky that we’re friends. I’ll let you borrow it, free of charge.”

Danny scrunched up his nose from an overly musky smell coming from the so-called cologne. “Tuck, this will just make it worse.”

Smirking, he smoothly replied, “Precisely. How do you figure I got Sam to take her shoes home?”

“Oh,” he realized, matching Tucker’s smirk with his own.

“FENTON, WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CLOTHES?” Wes shrieked when he stomped over to his desk the next morning.

Feigning innocence, Danny raised an eyebrow and responded, “What are you talking about?”

“My uniform, you—YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T TOUCH MY STUFF!”

“And I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

Technically, he wasn’t lying. He just sprayed a little Foley at a certain spot in their locker. Okay, maybe not a little.

“I didn’t touch anything. It’s not my fault you’re just realizing how much your clothes stink,” he shrugged indifferently.

“I’ll...I’ll get you back for this Fenton!” Wes promised before stomping back to his seat.

Danny turned to an amused-looking Tucker and they both began to snigger.

#i MUST finish this before classes start #i have just over a week #i can do this #next chappie's a christmas one #hush ik it's august #fic #tucker #wes #grooveactuallywrites #tug of war

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kieraelieson · 4 years

Text

Borrowers can’t be scared of heights

I wanted to write an original G/t thing, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that’s with only girls, so I’m trying that out. :)

••^*^••

Borrowers can’t be scared of heights. Everyone knows that. They’d die in days, or less. Or else be a tremendous burden on their family.

And yet, despite everything she’d tried, everything she’d done, her fear only seemed to grow.

That was why, when the human got suspicious, and even started leaving notes, and her family decided to move, they also decided to leave her behind.

Cassie hugged her aching stomach. She hadn’t eaten in nearly three days, and she knew she had to do something now. Maybe… maybe the human had given up looking.

She set out, only to reach the first hurdle. The ladder. Their home—her home now, was halfway to the basement, and there was a massive ladder to climb up to the first floor. She knew she was capable of climbing it, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying.

••^*^••

Aneesha gave up. She picked up all the little sticky notes and threw them away. Not one had been budged or had an answer written on them, and not one crumb of the food she’d put out had any signs other than mice signs, which were now all over her house.

It had been a foolish hope, anyway.

And now she had to deal with mice.

She cleaned her house top to bottom and sealed everything in the pantry into thick plastic or glass containers. She put out several of the little cage traps, and called animal control to confirm that she could drop off any mice she caught. She didn’t intend on killing any of them, certainly.

••^*^••

Cassie made it. Finally. Her body was shaking from more than just hunger, but she was there now. It was mid morning, and the human shouldn’t be home.

She made her way to the kitchen, and got into the pantry. Usually, there were crumbs or dropped bits of food all over the ground, but now there weren’t. It was swept perfectly clean.

She climbed up to the first shelf, but none of the containers were the kind she could open.

She left the pantry, and looked up to the kitchen counters. They were high, and she’d have to climb just her rope the whole way. But her stomach growled, reminding her of the reason she was doing this at all.

She swung the hook up, grateful that it stuck on the first try. Ugh. This was going to be miserable.

Eventually she made it. But there was nothing, not even dirty dishes, that she could possibly eat. And then she saw it.

It was a cage, and inside was a piece of cheese and a large dollop of peanut butter. Her mouth dropped open and started drooling without any conscious input. Her stomach growled again, much louder than before.

At this point, she almost didn’t care. Compared to slowly starving, a death by human after such a last meal seemed almost better.

She went to the sink and took a long drink of water, filling her bottle, and hoping that it would be enough to stop her stomach from taking over her mind. She carefully climbed down from the counter, which was worse than climbing up, honestly, and searched the rest of the house. She finished in the bedroom, where still, there was not one crumb left anywhere.

In the corner of the bedroom, under the dresser, there was yet another of the traps.

It was too much.

She climbed in, wincing as it shut behind her. But at least now she could fill her stomach.

••^*^••

Aneesha got home, exhausted. Work had been long.

She kicked her shoes off by the door and went around, checking the traps. The one on the top shelf of the pantry had caught a mouse. She pulled it down and set it near the door. It would probably be fine until morning, and she’d take it to animal control on her way to work.

She went to her bedroom, only just remembering once she opened the door that she had set a trap in here too. She knelt to look under the dresser, and was immediately taken aback.

There was a tiny person in the trap. She was laying on her side, seemingly asleep.

Aneesha pulled the trap out, and instantly the tiny girl woke up. She scrambled back, away from Aneesha, trembling and filled with fear.

Aneesha picked up the cage to her face level. “Hey there-“

She was cut off by an ear piercing shriek. The tiny girl clung to the bars of the cage as if her life depended on it. She was shaking violently now.

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” Aneesha asked quickly.

“P-put me DOWN!” The girl screamed.

Aneesha set the cage on the ground, and the girl collapsed.

“Are you alright? Where did you get hurt?”

Aneesha pried open the cage, and scooped the tiny girl into her hand. She was trembling all over, and was just so small! Tears were running down her face, and when Aneesha moved her hand, she turned and clung to a finger.

“D-don’t pick me up. Please!”

“It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you.” Aneesha carefully moved her hand in a slow arc to her lap.

“No, no no no, please!” The girl’s grip was so tight it pinched. “Put me down! Please!”

Aneesha didn’t understand, but she moved her hand back down to the floor. The girl tried to scramble off, but Aneesha brought her other hand over to cup around the tiny body.

“I didn’t think you were real…” she breathed.

She leaned down, and shifted to laying on her stomach to see the girl closer without picking her up again.

“So where are you hurt?” She asked, turning the girl gently back and forth.

“I-I’m not.”

“Then why’d you scream?” Aneesha frowned slightly, and the girl shrank back.

“I’m s-scared of— of heights.”

“Oh. Oh. I’m so sorry.”

The girl, not meeting her eyes, shrugged. “It’s— it’s alright I guess.”

“So why are you here? The trap wasn’t hidden or anything.” Before the girl responded, understanding hit Aneesha. “Oh, it’s because of me, isn’t it? Because I put all the food away.”

The girl nodded.

Aneesha looked at her more critically. She was almost painfully skinny, and very pale. Her hair was short, barely brushing her shoulders, but still thin and sparse, as if she’d been malnourished for a long time.

“Are you still hungry? I can get you more food.”

“C-can— I want to go home. Please let me go.” The girl said, trying to pry apart two of Aneesha’s fingers.

“Not yet,” Aneesha said, throwing that idea out the window before it could get anywhere. “First we’re going to see about dinner.”

She shifted to sit up again.

The girl dropped to her knees, grabbing tightly to a finger again. “No, no, please! I’ll stay, I swear! I won’t move at all! Please don’t pick me up!”

Aneesha considered a minute, and then set the girl back in the cage.

“I’ll be back in just a minute.”

#g/t #my own work #borrowers #borrowers can’t be scared of heights

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lifesasickjoke · 5 years

Text

The Dirt

The Dirt - part 3

part 2 - part 4

Pairing: Douglas!Nikki x Reader

Word count: 3105

Chapter summary: With Nikki, Tommy, Vince and Mick becoming more and more popular with the crowds, (Y/N) gets dragged along with them. She attends every show, is invited to every after party, helps the boys get ready to perform, and even protects them from bar fights.

But one night, after a particularly successful show, maybe it's Nikki's turn to be there for (Y/N).

Warnings: Swearing and strippers

(Y/N)?’ Nikki softly whispered into my ear.

But it felt like a tickle so I brushed it aside, flopping myself over and burying my face in my pillow. I heard him sigh heavily and walk around my bed to the other side where I was facing.

‘(Y/N).’ he said a little louder.

There was something lightly brushing against my cheek, his hand I assumed, but then it quickly pulled back and ended up on my shoulder instead, he gently shook my arm.

‘What.’ I groaned and cracked open my eyes, my voice still stiff from sleep. I realized there was no light coming through the window to sting my eyes.

‘Nick, what time is it?’ I blindly reached to turn around my digital alarm clock.

02:35 in the morning. Fuck.

He smiled like he would whenever he wanted something from other people as he bent down to my eye level.

‘Can I borrow your leather pants?’ he asked in a low voice.

‘Yeah. sure. If they fit.’ I sat up and stretched. Nikki cheered and strode out of my room, pants already in his hand.

As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes I realized something.

‘Wait no, he's gonna stretch them out.’

I kicked the blanket off me and sprinted after him.

‘You are going to be at the concert tonight, right?’ Nikki asked, sticking his head into the bathroom. I just finished tying my hair up.

‘Yeah, I took the day off.’ I opened the cupboard and took out my makeup bag and the brushes that lay next to it.

Nikki leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching me apply some mascara and eyeshadow.

I noticed him watching me apply the makeup with pure concentration through the reflection of the mirror.

‘What?’ I smiled.

His eyebrows creased together.

‘I think I might need your help with something.’

Later on that day, I was helping Nikki and the guys with their makeup. I refused the idea at first, but I couldn't resist Nikki's begging for long because he just becomes clingy and pouty at the same time. So here I was, sitting on the shelf table in one of the dressing rooms in the club the boys rented out for their first show.

I had Nikki’s chin between my fingers, and my foot rested on the little edge of the chair he was sitting on so I could balance my makeup palette on my knee.

I thought he was carefully studying what routine I had and how I applied the makeup, but judging by the teasing smirk on Tommy's face, it could be that he was actually just carefully studying me.

I rubbed my thumb into my more solid black eyeshadow. I gently cupped each of Nikki's cheeks and ran my thumb over his cheekbone, leaving behind a black streak.

When I was done I leaned back and admired my work, then jumped off the shelf table so Nikki could see himself in the mirror behind me.

‘Yeah! That's gnarly, dude.’ Tommy commented as he twirled his drumstick.

The door opened and closed, and Vince strode in, now having changed into his outfit.

‘Man, my girlfriend spent, like, 800 bucks on these leather pants.’ he laughed and squatted to stretch them out.

‘Don't stretch them out.’ I told him, but he completely ignored me (I'm guessing because he didn't hear me) and squatted even further.

‘You like ‘em?’ he asked Tommy, who was wearing similarly tight leather pants.

‘They're cool, bro.’ he agreed.

‘You say everything's cool, Drummer.’ grunted Mick. He wasn’t wrong. Judging by the number of times Tommy had used the word “cool” in the past hour, it started to sound like it was the only adjective he knew.

Nikki reached around my body to grab the bottle of Jack Daniels, which he handed to Vince.

‘Anyone else need anything?’ I asked, about to pack away the makeup palettes.

‘No thanks.’ Tommy replied with an excited smile.

Mick momentarily lowered his sunglasses when he saw me coming towards him so he could threaten me.

‘Bring that stuff anywhere near my face and I'll bite you.’

I put my hands up to surrender, and slowly packed away my makeup.

‘So you think there's gonna be anybody out there tonight?’ Vince asked, hopping onto the vanity table.

‘We put up enough fliers.’ Nikki replied as he was ruffling up his hair. ‘I hope so.’

‘Does anyone have the time?’ tommy asked, also checking himself out in front of the mirror with Vince and Nikki. I looked down at my wristwatch.

‘You guys have about fifteen minutes.’

I smiled at my boys proudly as they prepared for their official first show performance, but like always, they never saw it.

‘Alright,’ I cheered and got my purse, ‘I'll see you guys on the stage.’

‘Yeah, ok.’ the group replied.

‘Good luck!’ I wished them all.

There was a chorus of scattered applause as the band jumped onto the stage, radiant and prideful in their leather clothing. Everyone took their positions on the stage as the talking of the crowd quiet down to an awkward and unsure murmur. I tugged nervously at my crop top to pull it further down.

‘All right! We’re Mötley Crüe!’ Vince prompted. Tommy started softly playing the hi-hat in the background for suspense, but then it fell over with a louder crash. He swore and scrambled to pick it back up. The crowd around me started laughing and jeering.

‘You suck!’ a man in the crowd shouted.

‘Get off the stage!’ said another.

Nikki searched the crowd for me, and when he found me I gave him an apologetic head shake but an encouraging smile.

‘Come on, boys, let's rock this hole!’ Vince nodded. Tommy started playing the drums again, and Mick and Nikki followed with the guitar chords. Their opening song was "take me to the top".

The crowd around me murmured in confusion before the group of buff men in front of me started booing again.

‘Who’s the chick singer?’ the one with the long hair spat. The people around him laughed.

Vince stopped moving around the stage and jeered back, ‘fuck you, asshole.’

I saw the man quickly throw up two middle fingers before leaning forwards and spitting on Vince nice white leather pants. I gasped, disgusted, just like Vince was. Only he jumped off the stage and collided his fist with the man with the long hair.

The man punched him back, sending him stumbling backwards. The music stopped and I looked up at the stage and saw Nikki swinging around his guitar. It clashed with the man with the long hair.

The man fell and Nikki jumped off the stage onto the next guy that was advancing towards him. At this point, I was debating whether I go help him beat up the guys like I usually did, or if I needed a stronger drink.

What the hell I decided and quickly weaved through the crowd and towards Nikki.

The man that he jumped on was already on the ground, but his buddy had Nikki in a choke hold. I kicked said guy in the shins, hoping that none of his buddies were watching. He let go of Nikki and stumbled back.

Nikki store up at me in amazement as I grabbed his arm and helped him up.

‘Just like the old days.’ I chuckled at him before the next guy swung his fist into my general direction.

Nikki noticed him before I did. He grabbed my waist and spun we out of harm's way and intervened. I clumsily stumbled towards the stage because of the momentum Nikki pushed me with. I caught myself just in time to see Tommy also jumping off the stage. He soared through the air and knocked down his target.

I slipped back towards the sidelines of the fight, where Mick was on stage. The guy I punched got up and menacingly ran at me. I yelped and sidestepped out of his first punch.

‘(Y/N), duck.’ Mick said. So I did, and he kicked the guy running at me right in the face, knocking him out.

I laughed.

‘You’re awesome.’

Mick smiled and nodded, and started to strum his guitar.

The fight quickly broke apart because some buff security dudes that belonged to the venue intervened and pulled everyone apart. The bouncers thew the band back at the stage and pulled the other men outside.

Nikki helped Vince up, who had blood tainting his lips and teeth. Tommy jumped up with too much energy, ready for the next fight.

The crowd was silenced.

They were all backed up against the walls of the room to make space for the fighting.

I awkwardly shoved my hands into my pockets, hiding my face from the bouncers so I wouldn't be thrown out.

The last remaining bouncer seemed to be debating whether to let the boys continue playing or to throw them out too.

A shrill, high, voice suddenly bellowed out, scaring the living daylights out of me.

‘Fuck, yeah! Mötley Crüe!’

The man had started clapping, and soon, the rest of the crowd joined in. I laughed with the rest of the crowd and started cheering on my boys.

Nikki saw me cheer, and he started grinning. Tommy pulled him back onto the stage and the crowd followed them up to it, filling in the front of the room densely.

After the show, I left the crowd and returned to the dressing room. The boys were already inside laughing loudly. I opened the door and met them with a great big smile, but I quickly stepped to Nikki, who was in the centre of the room and threw my arms around his neck. His arms instinctively wrapped around my back

‘That was amazing!’ I marvelled and pulled back from his chest. Nikki gently smiled down at me, with that signature smile only I got. The soft smile. It was the exact opposite of his signature smirk.

He didn't say anything but his eyes did. He didn't need to say anything to me, his smile said it all.

I melted on the inside.

‘You were amazing.’ I told him and unknowingly cupped his neck with both my hands before pulling away and turning to the rest of the guys.

‘You were all amazing.’

‘Are you kidding? We saw what you did to that one guy.’ tommy reflected my enthusiasm. He dove in for a hug as well. And how could I resist? I hugged his skinny waist.

‘That was nothing compared to you guys.’ I denied.

‘Also great singing.’ I turned to Vince. He smiled cockily and opened his arms for a hug too. It might have been an imagination of mine, but I was pretty sure his hands went lower than they were supposed to.

I broke free and finally turned to mick.

‘And thank you so much, for, you know…’ I mimicked the kick, causing the boys to cackle up a bit while mick cracked a small smile.

‘Anything for you’ he grunted as I hugged him as well. He was stiff at first but slowly relaxed into the hug.

I turned to all the boys once more.

‘You guys fucking killed it tonight. Let's hope you do the same at the concerts to come.’

There were already many people lined up outside the club, waiting to be let in. luckily, I had the backstage pass as well as a good relationship with the bouncer, who I served some dinner too once when I met him at the restaurant I worked at and gave him an idea for a potential job. I jogged down the road and past the lines of people. I might have even accidentally bumped into a tall man with long hair in a green and black striped shirt, but I was in too much of a hurry to properly apologize to him. I showed the bouncer my backstage pass card, and he let me wander through with a big friendly smile.

The boys had gotten used to doing another show as soon as possible after the last show ended. Today was no different than the others, besides the number of people already packed inside. As the venue got busier, there was no more space on the dance floor in front of the stage left, and even if I tried to squeeze myself into the crowd I would be rubbing against the person to my left, to my right, to my front, and to my back.

And I didn’t want another thing pressing into my backside as I danced.

No, today I sat at the bar with Vince's girlfriend. The blonde and bossy one. I met with her at the entrance of the venue and we walked to our reserved seats together. She was actually really sweet, and I had a great time going out with her to shop or for dinner. We sat on the barstool, sharing a serving of onion rings, and watched the boys play the same songs as they did every night.

The evening went well for me. I sang along with the crowd and sometimes even danced when my favourite song came on.

The evening didn't go so great for her.

Vince started flirting and singing to another girl in the crowd that was pressed up against the stage, and she slid off her chair and angrily stomped over the front of the room, pushing aside the people in the crowd to get there even faster.

Later that evening when I was having a coke and talking to one of the guys I met, Vince's girlfriend found me and asked were Vince was. I pointed toward the general direction I saw him slip off to, and a minute later she came storming back, Vince's white pants flung over her shoulder, and Vince stumbling after her completely naked.

‘I fucking love those pants.’ he complained to me. I just shook my head, knowing exactly what had just happened.

By the time the boys finished their performance, the crowd was going crazy. And when the last song ended, the chantings didn't die down. It was obvious to me now, Mötley Crüe had made it.

The boys and I decided to celebrate another successful show down at the rainbow restaurant (strip club). The restaurant itself was practically made to fit every man's fantasy and had the three most favourable things for any man - the three B’s.

Boobs, Booze, and Blowjobs.

Yeah. Blowjobs. They had specific strippers here that offered them for little to nearly no pay. We were all sitting around a table, talking, laughing, and having a good time.

I sat between Nikki and Mick and laughed at something dumb Tommy was doing with the boys. I had a small order of fries in front of me as well, were Nikki once in a while took one from my plate. I would gently shove my elbow into his sides every time. Despite popular beliefs, Nikki is incredibly ticklish. He would jerk away as my elbow came into contact with his rib, but then laughed and pull me a little bit closer.

I could also start to tell mick getting a bit annoyed with our antics. He might have called us out for the ‘flirting’. The rest of the boys noticed it too.

A blonde girl came up to the table. At first, she looked like one of the people that came up to our table to congratulate and gush over the boys. But she didn't start her frantic speech about who or what she loved the best.

She smiled sweetly and sank down to her knees. The boys grew silent as they watched in anticipation as she slowly and sexually lifted up the red table cloth from the table.

I knew what she was going to do, and so did the rest of the boys. My heart began to race at an agonising fast pace as my chest became hotter and the air around me got heavier to breathe in.

The boys (excluding Mick, who had become a little bit uncomfortable as well) glanced at each other quizzically. They started laughing at each other.

Vince jumped in his seat suddenly, then his face twisted into one of pleasure.

Tommy and Nikki started to laugh violently. But I grew too uncomfortable with the whole situation. I didn't want to see this.

‘I'm gonna go get more drinks.’ I said in a fake, more upbeat tone and pushed myself off from the seat and climbed over Mick. ‘Who wants what?’

Beer for Tommy, jack and coke for Nikki, shots for Vince and vodka for Mick. I repeated the orders in my head as I tried to drown out the prostitutes and drunk men around me.

Beer for Tommy, jack and coke for Nikki, shots for Vince and vodka for Mick. I repeated in my head, trying to drown out the thoughts of Nikki getting a blow job right there.

Beer for Tommy, jack and coke for Nikki, shots for Vince and vodka for Mick. I repeated trying to calm myself down.

I finally reached the bar. All the seats close to it were occupied, so I leaned against it and waited patiently for the barman. Or woman. In this case.

She was wearing close to nothing as she danced around pouring drinks for the men on the bar stools. I waited for her to come to me for at least five minutes. Then I noticed that she wasn't even serving any drinks, and instead was flirting with one of the men.

‘Excuse me.’ I called her. She finally noticed me. Her face fell though as she walked over to me.

‘What?’ she asked. ‘Hey, aren't you a little late for your shift? Go get changed.’

I store at her funnily. ‘My shift?’

She scoffed, ‘you work here, don't you?’

‘Uh what? No, I don't work here. No.’ I stammered.

The lady looked me up and down.

‘Oh. sorry. What can I get you?’ her whole persona changed.

‘Ah y-yes. A beer, a jack and coke, three shots, a soda and vodka.’

The lady nodded and started getting out the drinks.

I turned back at the table where the boys were sitting. They seem to be having the time of their life. Especially Nikki. I caught him throwing his head back in pleasure. The rest of the guys laughed maniacally.

I gritted my teeth and turned to the bartender.

‘Actually, strike out the soda. I need something a little stronger.’

Tag list: @getthefckouttahere @kingbouji3 @fandomshit6000 @spookyfrances @kwyloz @triplehaitches @myheadisinvaded @wonderboygenius @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @kawennote09 @the-dopemusiccoffee @versaceismehoe @glitter-rian @miss-ncthing @flizaa @evanpeters3826 @divaanya @extremesadnerding @oskea93

Let me know if I should tag you :D

ONce AGAIN Hasu, you are the best, love you forever, stay awesome.

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Text

Rick In The Water; Ch8: What It Is To Burn

Summary: Morty's actin' pretty weird my friend, wonder what's up with that.

A/N: A L S O, sorry for the delay, but I was having a really hard time trying to figure how I wanted to do where the ending was originally heading. BUT I'm much happier with this chapter and the way the story goes with my change to the chapterter and the next one go hand in hand so it'll pick up exactly where this one leaves off. CW: Violence against Mortys? Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6186

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch7: Shameful Metaphors|

+Nova+

After the assault on the Citadel, Rick and I spent most days holed up in his garage or out with Morty adventuring. Ryan would try stopping by a couple of times to try catching me but most of the time Rick and I were so wrapped up in whatever issue of the week we were dealing with that I happily pushed seeing him back to a later date. I was hanging around Rick so much I barely saw Beth even though every morning I could depend on her leaving a cup of coffee for me on the coffee table as I woke up.

“Please, please just let me set you up in Jerry’s office. I promise he doesn’t use it,” she would insist every morning to my refusal and Jerry’s ire. Jerry stopped really arguing after a while at Beth’s less than amused reminders of his joblessness. I would insist the TV helped me sleep and I hated that I was taking up space in her house at all. She always relented, saying she was just glad I finally got away from Ryan.

I didn’t know how to explain to her why I preferred sleeping on the couch. How was I supposed to tell her I liked that Rick, in a rare show of affection, would come sit next to me and play with my hair until he couldn’t stay awake any longer? That Rick and I were three seasons deep into a binge of Cornless? That her father and I were in lo-

No, not necessarily… that.

Despite my craving to hear them for longer than I had ever even realized, we hadn’t even talked about it. I didn’t doubt them though, in every light kiss, in every spared glance, they were so goddamn apparent. Rick wasn’t one to be touchy-feely with emotions and after years of emotional beatdowns every time I showed an iota of emotion, neither was I.

One afternoon, we were sitting at his workbench in near silence while he tweaked his latest invention and I desperately searched for a new job. The hunt was going dismally, despite my years of experience.

“Hey babe, don’t worry about,” he murmured in my ear, causing me to jump out of my skin. Somehow without me even noticing, he’d rolled his chair around the workbench to me. “You can just help me out all day,” he assured me, kissing the top of my head gently before rolling back over to his invention. “Check this out.” Smiling, he extended a small tube out, leaving me to stare at it in confusion.

“What even is that?” I asked bluntly, causing his smile to droop slightly.

“I-It’s an enhancement for my arm. This body came with some upgrades,” he told me as though it would be the most obvious thing in the world. As I continued surveying it, even taking it into my hand to inspect it closer, he continued, “It’s a new barrel for my arm mounted pistol. I’m trying to make it even more accurate.” He snatched it out of my hand, returning to work on it protectively.

“This is why I can’t just help you out all day. I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.” I told him flatly.

“I-I could show you,” he insisted, sliding his chair over to the large utility shelf next to the garage door.

“Rick, do you really want to spend every second of every day with me?” I asked with the same flat tone.

“N-No, of course not,” he stammered, digging through the boxes.

“Then I need to get a job, I have to at least help Beth with expenses if Jerry’s not going to.” He paused, seeming to consider my words for a moment before resuming digging. “Then we can just send Jerry to live with Ryan and Beth and I can just be nice lesbian parents to Morty, Summer, and Madi.”

“Trying to collect the full Sanchez set? Got me, now you’re going after Beth too?” He stopped digging through his current box, moving over to his workbench and pulling one down from the shelf above.

“Oh, I collected Beth a while ago,” I told him innocently. His eyes bulged for a moment so I elaborated with a carefree shrug. “Teenage years are a confusing time.”

“Oh, that’s… why’d you have to go and make it weird? That’s weird, you’re weird,” he recoiled, actually looking grossed out.

“We didn’t do anything,” I soothed him, “I was just fucking with you old man.”

“You’re still weird.”

“You like it.”

“Shut up.”

He abandoned his search and we fell back into a comfortable silence for a while. Rick started on another project, something that looked like a supersonic set of headphones and I went back to my job hunting. I was inches away from slamming the laptop shut in frustration when Morty stormed in, looking angrier than I had ever seen him.

“R-Rick, I want to redeem my adventure card,” he demanded, handing a small punch card out to Rick. I raised my eyebrow at Rick but he just rolled his eyes and handed the card back to Morty.

“I don’t feel like going out right now, kid,” he shrugged, turning back to his invention. The source of Morty’s irritation appeared at the door in the form of Jerry wearing a very serious expression.

“Come on, kiddo, I just wanted to talk to you about it,” Jerry explained, exasperated. “It’s a talk a man and his son have at some point-”

“Come on Nova, Morty. We have places to be,” Rick said flatly. Morty quickly pulled Rick’s portal gun out of his pocket, punching in a destination and opening a portal for us to disappear in, much to Jerry’s frustration.

*+*

“So what in the hell was that all about?” Rick asked gruffly, using a laser sword from his lab coat to try and fight his way through the dense thicket of the planet Morty had portalled us to. I had stopped asking questions about how he could always be so prepared a long time ago, I always got the same answer. When you’re good, you’re good.

“He wanted to have the ‘talk.’ Look, I’d rather not talk about it, Rick. I-I came out here to get away from it, not discuss it at length with you two.” Morty grimaced, not breaking his stride and using his anger to quickly work his way through the tall brush.

“Okay, rude. You wanna at least tell me where we are?” Rick asked, trying his hardest not to sound annoyed. I followed behind the two, letting their frustration with each other carve me a path.

“I just punched in random numbers,” Morty replied with a shrug. “I just wanted to get out of there. There’s gotta be something here that’s useful for you.” The bitter note in his tone had Rick and me exchanging glances before continuing after him.

“So, if Morty doesn’t know where the fuck we’re at, do you?” I asked Rick, my own irritation bubbling under the surface. He pulled out his space phone, typing into the screen quickly with a steadily more and more irritated expression growing on his face.

“I have no fucking clue,” he groaned, shoving the device back into his pocket. “Let’s just go somewhere else Morty, I-I’m not wasting my afternoon mowing some random fucking planets backyard.” He reached for his portal gun, only to find it missing from his pocket. I pointed to Morty when he shot me a look of confusion and further irritation bled onto it. “Come on asshole, give it back, let’s go,” he growled at his grandson, extending his hand expectantly.

“I’m not going back into that fucking house,” Morty shot back, holding out the portal gun for Rick to grab. He left it within his reach until the last moment, whipping it away from his grasp right as his fist had ready to grasp it. “I’m not going home. We’ll find something here,” he told him simply, forcing the portal gun into the waist of his jeans.

“Morty, he didn’t say anything about going home,” I told him softly, holding my finger up to Rick hoping to silence him before he could start berating my godson again. “We’ll just go somewhere else. It’ll be fi-”

“Nova, this is my fucking adventure.” Morty twirled around to face me, his usually kind face contorted with rage. “We’re going to find something here, got it?”

“H-Hey buddy, calm down,” Rick shot at his grandson, eyeing him carefully. “That’s your fucking aunt, d-don’t talk to her like that.”

“Wh-Whatever Rick. Y-Y-You’re so worried about her being my aunt until you’re trying to get in her p-pants.” Morty turned to Rick, eyes burning with rage.“Then it’s totally fine, right Rick? All because you’re in l-love with her or something equally as stupid? F-Fucking hypocrite.”

“Fuck you, Morty,” Rick shot darkly, not meeting my gaze. “I haven’t even fucked her, t-that’s not why she’s around you little piece of shit.”

“No, fuck you, Rick. L-Let’s just keep going alright?” Morty picked up his pace, going further ahead of us, mumbling under his breath.

“So, he’s a damn delight to be around today,” I murmured to Rick, brushing up against him to comfort him. He didn’t respond, storming off to catch up to Morty and continue his tirade leaving me to trail behind them alone.

We came across a dark cave, dripping with stalactites that almost came into the shape of a large vicious mouth. Totally not ominous at all and yet Morty was peering through the entryway eagerly. “Let’s check this place out.”

“Yeah Morty, we should absolutely check out the terrifying cave that literally looks like it’s about to eat us,” I told him sarcastically.

“Nova, it’s my adventure, we’re going,” he told me angrily before pulling out a flashlight and venturing further within. I looked to Rick quickly only to receive a shrug as he followed Morty into the gaping maw of a cave entrance. Had everyone just lost their goddamn minds today?

“Really great adventure Mo*uuurp*rty,” Rick complained lazily as we walked through the cave. Morty stormed ahead, only taking care to avoid any obvious potential hazards while Rick and I walked slowly, his flashlight only illuminating so much. “Maybe Satan himself will be down here and I can ask him why he sent me such a shitty grandson.” I smacked his arm earning me a glare before he continued. “You’re going to get Nova and I killed down here.”

“Maybe if Satan is down here I can him wh-who the fuck you think you are old man,” Morty growled over his shoulder.

“Something’s wrong with Morty, Rick,” I told him urgently. The ground beneath us was slippery so I grabbed onto his arm to keep myself steady.

“Yeah, I noticed that already, Nova. I’m trying to figure out what the little shit is up to,” Rick hissed, glancing down at my hand with a look of irritation.

“The fuck is your problem?” I asked, releasing his arm spitefully.

“Nothing Nova, just trying to focus on Morty at the moment, that’s all,” he said distracted, taking advantage of my release on him and hurrying after Morty.

“Rick!” I whispered sharply. “You have the fucking flashlight you fucking dick!” Inky darkness fell over me as Rick disappeared around a corner ahead of me. I tried my best to navigate through the pitch black, running into far more walls than intended. In a stroke of genius, I remembered my phone in my back pocket and pulled it out to activate its flashlight. I was greeted with the face of Morty contorted with rage as he knocked the device out of my hands and shoved me to the ground. “Morty, what the fuck?!” I shouted. He didn’t respond, instead, a hand extended in front of me, knocking me out with gas from a small aerosol can.

*+*

“Nova, wake up Nova,” a singsong voice murmured as I awoke to find myself tied to some kind of alter. Over twenty Mortys surrounded me, all staring at me, emotionless save for one who busied himself with a small bowl near my head. The stone altar was cool to the touch, sending chills down my spine.

“Morty, what the fuck are you doing?” I tried to fight the bind on my wrist, furious to find myself in this situation yet again. “Let me up goddammit.”

“Not yet Nova. Not until The One True Morty gets here with the bastard Rick,” the one closest told me emotionlessly.

“Th-The One True Morty?” I asked hysterically. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“In due time, Au-Aunt Nova,” he told me dismissively.

“I-Is that my Morty? The one that brought us down here?” I whispered, my anger being replaced by panic.

“In a word, no,” Bowl Morty grinned deviously as he finished up with whatever he was doing.

“Why did he bring us here?”

“All will be explained when The One True Morty arrives.”

And so I was left to sit, struggling in my binds as I waited for this One True Morty to appear. It seemed to drag on for hours and after the first hour, I started giving up, my wrists bloody and raw from constantly rubbing the coarse rope. I tried to dig for more answers to where I was, why I was here but the Mortys surrounding me remained silent. Content to watch me, no emotion emerged on their faces. Finally, almost blissfully, I heard a gruff voice berating a Morty. A voice I had grown far too accustomed to.

“Goddammit Morty, what in the hell are you doing?” Rick’s shouts echoed on the damp cave walls. He emerged through a low opening, his hands bound in front of him looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. His anger softened at the sight of me but as soon as it did it contorted again into an even uglier snarl. “What the fuck are you doing you fucking idiot? Let her go, whatever issues you fucking turds have are with me, leave her the fuck out of it.”

“Quiet,” the Morty leading him said quietly as he flicked his wrist softly, and to my surprise, it was quite effective. “Mortys, don’t allow him to get anywhere near that Nova.”

“M-Morty? You’re not my Morty. Where is my Morty?” I asked urgently.

“I’m surprised to see you care so much, I’ve been living with you for almost a month and you haven’t even noticed I wasn’t your Morty,” Morty said in a controlled voice. This Morty was an anomaly. Where my Morty was generally shy and nervous, this one was confident and meticulous. It was like he’d been body-snatched.

My eyes shot to Rick, who was wearing a look of furious disbelief but as he opened his mouth to speak, no sound came out. “What do you mean? What did you do to my Morty?” I asked in his stead.

“Nothing of consequence.” He paused and chuckled before changing the subject smoothly, “You know Nova, my version of you died when I was twelve. Seeing you hurt is not something I want, it’s just a necessary evil for right now. You are safe and you will return to your home when I’m finished here.”

“Wh-What are you doing Morty?” I asked nervously. “Why did you bring us here?”

“You know how my Nova died?” Morty asked, disregarding my questions. “Unsurprisingly, being a Nova with a Ryan, she was killed by him last year. Leave him, Nova. You’ll be better for it.”

“Morty, what are you doing? Why did you bring us here?” I asked again, my own rage forming in my gut.

“Rick, why don’t you tell her what we’re doing here,” he asked smugly, flicking his wrist again to allow Rick to speak.

“You little fucking piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you. I should’ve killed all of those fucking Morty’s when I was at that piece of shit’s fucking lair-”

Another flick of Morty’s wrist and he was silent again. “I should thank you though Rick, thanks to you I can finally go after the Citadel as I wanted.” He led Rick to a crudely made computer set up, strapping him in as he tossed a helmet on his head, flicking his wrist. “Look familiar Rick?”

“Oh jesus fucking christ, this thing again. Still depending on that Rick’s inventions to get by?” Rick spat at him viciously. Morty laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“Oh, you stupid fucking bastard,” he chuckled, forcing the helmet on Rick’s head. “Make sure Nova can see,” he ordered the other Mortys. I was finally released, rubbing my wrists gently as the Mortys led me to the screen while still keeping me a safe distance from Rick. My eyes sought his out, trying to make sense of the situation but instead, he was fixated on the screen in front of him.

A slideshow of memories played, mostly times I’d had no party to and some I had. It all kept coming back to one, my voice on repeat. “ I want you, I want you, I want you. ” It repeated over and over. Other memories would play, but that was almost like the soundtrack to them all. Rick finally broke his gaze as a memory of us facing off against a small army of gummy bears. He hesitantly let his eyes fall on me, shame forcing them away when they meet mine.

“Is that what gets you through the day?” Morty sneered at Rick. “Absolutely pathetic.”

“Why are you doing this?” my voice shook as I spoke and I continued to stare at Rick as he returned his eyes to the screen. Morty didn’t answer as a sadistic grin formed on his face. Another memory started, a late night on Beth’s couch, Rick playing with my hair as we watched an episode of Cornless. Morty’s grin faltered and he looked angry again. “What’s wrong Morty? Not finding the answers you were hoping for?”

“Ricks are incapable of love,” he growled at Rick. “What are you playing at here you old fuck?”

“We’re not incapable of love, you stupid turd,” Rick yelled back at his alternate grandson. “We just tend to think it’s a waste of fucking time.”

“So why are you wasting time on this Nova?” Morty snarled, glaring at me viciously.

“B-Because when it comes to her, i-its not a waste of time,” Rick shot back venomously. His gaze fell on me momentarily, giving me a tender look before returning to Morty. “D-Didn’t your Rick ever have a fucking Nova?”

“No,” he replied simply, his face returning to his previous emotionless composure. “He had no interest in her. He didn’t care about anyone though, it’s not exactly shocking.”

“What do you want from us, Morty?” I hissed, interrupting them. “Are you trying to get revenge because you had a shitty hand dealt to you and got a shit Rick?”

“It’s funny you ask that Nova,” he smirked, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me with surprising strength to a small chair just out of arm’s reach of Rick. “There’s something deep within him that’s going to show you his true nature. Ricks don’t care about Mortys, they don’t care about Beths and they certainly don’t care about Novas. We’re all tools for his selfish fucking gains.”

“I-Isn’t that what every one is for every fucking one else?” Rick glared. “Nova and Beth weren’t friends out of the goodness of each other's hearts. They both got something out of the friendship.”

“What does Nova get out of her ‘friendship’ with you then, Rick? How do you allow yourself to use her up until she’s wasted away like every fucking one else around you?” Morty demanded, getting so close to Rick he could surely smell the vodka on his breath.

“Wh-Why are you asking me?” Rick spat in his face. Morty took a calming breath, stepping back to wipe the saliva off of his face. “Th-That’s not up to me, that’s up to Nova.” Morty turned, looking at me expectantly.

“I-I l-like being around h-him,” I stammered, earning an eye roll from Morty. “I-I’ve always felt safe around Rick.”

“That’s all you got?” Morty scoffed, “You tolerate Rick because you like him and he makes you feel ‘safe’? That’s the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard in my life. Ricks can’t keep anyone but themselves safe.” My eyes finally met Rick’s, a surprisingly soft look in them as he nodded gently.

“You want to know why I spend every goddamn day with him, Morty?” My rage was starting to boil within me again and I stood up, towering over the small boy. “Because I love the idiot. Because I see him for more than you’ve ever seen him or your own Rick or ANY Rick for that matter. He can be gentle and tender and caring, you just have to give him an opportunity.”

“Oh, what the fuck ever-”

“No, you emotionally stunted little shit. I don’t know what your Rick did to you, I don’t care if he strapped car batteries to your fucking nipples, this is going too fucking far. This is an innocent Rick.” I turned to the Mortys surrounded us, their emotionless facade cracking. “Why are you guys even here? Why are you guys supporting this fucking lunatic Morty?” Bowl Morty, the one that had woken me up, appeared behind me, wrestling with my arms in an attempt to bind them behind my back.

“I-I’m not a lunatic,” Leader Morty snarled at me. “What are you trying to do Aunt Nova? Do you really think you can win all these Morty’s to your side? Some of them don’t even know who the fuck you are.”

“Shut up Morty,” I glared as I broke free from Bowl Morty and pushed him away from me. I dared a glance at Rick, who was slowly but silently burning away the metal bonds with his cybernetic arms. I looked into the crowd of Mortys, most of them looking up at me in confusion as their eyes bounced between their leader and me. “You- Why are you here?” I asked pointing at one of them.

“Wh-When the Evil Rick kidnapped me, he killed my entire family, I had nowhere to go,” he told me sadly.

“So you decided to launch a campaign against every Rick in existence?” I asked harshly. He winced and shrugged up at me. I sought out another one, asking him the same.

“I-I couldn’t live on the citadel. When it was destroyed, I lost my home. M-Morty found me, a-and offered me a better life. N-Now he won’t let me go home.” I ignored the pang of guilt, knowing it had been my Rick’s fault that things had gotten so fucked up for him.

“H-How many of you are here because of the destruction of the citadel?” I asked, my voice faltering despite my best efforts. All but two of them raised their hands, the Leader and Bowl Morty. I raised an eyebrow at the latter, “Why are you here?”

“Because I fucking hate Ri-” A laser grazing his shoulder interrupted him as he fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Rick had finally sawed through his bonds, grabbing the Leader Morty and wrestling him into a chair. He pulled out two small discs that expanded and wrapped around the arms of the chair and Morty’s wrists, effectively binding him to the chair.

“If the rest of you little shits want to leave here alive, you better sit down and shut up. I don’t want any fucking funny business,” Rick shot darkly at the meek boys surrounding us. A few fled down the tunnels while the rest huddled together in terror. I moved closer to offer them some form of comfort as Rick returned to their leader. “Where the fuck is our Morty?” he hissed at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh, if you wanna be difficult, I have a lot of pent up rage and aggression after having my innermost feelings and thoughts put up for everyone to see,” Rick glowered. When Morty didn’t relent, Rick took a shot at his legs, missing by only a hair and instead just singeing his pants. Morty paled despite his best attempts to remain calm.

“Morty, just tell us what you did with Morty N-682,” I glared at him from the sea of Mortys now clinging to my side.

“He’s fine,” Morty shrugged as he struggled against Rick’s metallic bonds. I gently released my thigh from a weeping Morty and walked over to Morty. I put both of my hands over his, getting right next to his face.

“Tell me where the fuck my godson is,” I murmured sweetly into his ear. He squirmed beneath me, trying to resist the teenage hormones I was playing on to get him to talk.

“H-He’s on the citadel okay!” he squeaked and I pushed away from him.

“Where on the Citadel is he?” Rick snarled.

“I-I can show you.” I dug through his pockets, dismayed when the portal gun was nowhere to be found.

“H-He has one in his room.” The weeping Morty spoke up quickly before disappearing down a small rock corridor. He returned quickly, presenting us with a crudely made portal gun. The usual green swirl on the top was discolored and was more yellow than green.

“The fuck did you do to my portal gun?” Rick snarled at Leader Morty. He investigated further, quiet realization dawning on his face. “Th-This isn’t my portal gun, where is it?”

“Shattered somewhere on this planet I guess,” he grinned up at Rick, “I made this one myself.”

“You little fucking shit,” Rick growled, punching in coordinates into the citadel and opening a yellow portal in front of us. “Can’t have Nova going through a fucked-up portal. Why don’t you do us the honors.” He told Leader Morty, pushing him toward the opening.

“If it kills him, we won’t be able to find our Morty.” I murmured to Rick, much to his frustration. He grabbed Bowl Morty instead, forcefully shoving him through the abnormal portal. He seemed satisfied with the results, pushing the rest of the Mortys through before we made our way through behind them. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I reached the other side. The citadel had been mostly rebuilt and looked even better than it had before. Small statues had been erected in honor of the original council but a flyer beneath them told me they had decided to go a more democratic route in deciding who would lead the citadel for the foreseeable future.

“Now where is my Morty, you piece of garbage?” Rick demanded, pointing his laser pistol at him as he watched the captive Morty’s flee from around us, scattering to the wind. I rested my hand on his arm soothingly as he groaned in frustration.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Y-Your Morty is in Mortytown,” Leader Morty finally revealed, leading us down a dark alley into an admittedly rough part of town. Mortys eyed us distrustfully as we passed, but they all seemed to restrain when they saw me joining them. We arrived at a derelict building, not completely unlike the one Scar Rick had been living in. I led the two up the steps cautiously, much to Rick’s ire.

“It’s not fucking safe.”

“Would you prefer my untrained ass being the one ensuring this Morty doesn’t get away?” I shot back.

“You know how to use a gun right? You just pull the trigger if he starts to run,” he explained sarcastically, handing me the pistol and taking the lead. He engaged his arm gun with a couple of button presses on his arm. His pointer finger shifted into the gun barrel he had been working on, “I guess we get to find out how well it works,” he shrugged at me, edging into the building carefully as he watched our blindspots.

“Go to the top floor,” Morty told him wearily. We climbed the creaking stairs, careful to avoid falling through them as they groaned under our weight. I covered my nose and mouth at the disgusting smell that seemed to be getting stronger the higher up we went. Morty watched as I lowered my weapon and braced myself on the railing, trying to put as little weight on the distressed wood as possible. “Au-Aunt Nova, do you really think the railings in this shit heap are going to be any better than the stairs?” he chastised me. I blushed but returned my weapon to his back, following close behind until we finally reached the top floor.

“Nova, st-stay out here with this little shit,” Rick ordered softly, checking his weapon before checking the doorknob. It was surprisingly unlocked, and we were greeted with the battle roar of at least five Mortys as they sprang from within. Rick aimed at them and took them out quickly, much to my horror. Amidst the chaos, the Leader Morty slipped away from my control, whipping down the stairs quickly Before I could even attempt to get a shot off at him, he disappeared through the front door and was gone.

“I’m so sorry Rick,” I cried as he pulled me into a tight embrace. Pressed against his lapel, I was spared from the stench emanating from the room in front of us. I allowed his smell to encapsulate me, even giving me a heady feeling as he pecked small kisses on the top of my head.

“N-Nova, it's okay. You’re okay. I’ll get that little shit next time, it’ll be fine, I promise,” he consoled me, continuing to pepper kisses on my face before pulling my chin up to kiss me properly.

“R-Rick, wait.” I pulled away, covering my nose and pointing to the door in front of us. “Let’s get Morty home.” He nodded sharply, venturing further into the room. I knelt to check the Mortys that had emerged, relieved to find them still breathing from beneath me. It had been a controlled shock that Rick used to sedate them.

I breathed a sigh of relief and followed him into the dim room, gingerly feeling around on the wall in search of a light switch. The putrid stench was overwhelming, and I brought my shirt up to my nose in disgust to try to save the few nose hairs I had left. Rick flicked his flashlight on illuminating the disgusting room around us. Molded cans of vegetables littered the floor around us along with actual feces kept in buckets around the room. I couldn’t contain my disgust any more, returning to the landing to vomit spectacularly.

“Y-You okay, Nova?” Rick called from the small room, his voice getting further away.

“I-I’m just gonna stay out here with the Mortys okay?” I told him, my voice wavering under the threat of throwing up more stomach acid.

“Make sure one of them isn’t him, okay?”

At his word, I started investigating the fourteen-year-old boys splayed out in front of me. I wasn’t sure exactly how he expected me to be able to tell the difference between them, they all looked exactly the same. I thought for a moment, trying to remember some difference that would truly differentiate my Morty but I was coming up blank. Rick emerged from the disgusting apartment empty-handed, concern apparent on his face as he looked over the five Mortys on the ground.

“We’ll have to wait until they wake up,” he groaned. I was not looking forward to spending even another minute in this hellhole but thankfully as I groaned, one of the Mortys joined me in unison. He looked over at me, dazed and rubbing his head before a look of terror crossed his face. Rick grabbed him quickly, bringing his face mere inches from his own, “What dimension are you from?” he hissed at the boy.

“F-329,” Morty told him, his voice shaking. Rick released him quickly, urging him to get lost as we waited for another Morty to come to. Just as the front door slammed behind the first another Morty started waking up. I stepped in between Rick and the poor boy, opting to do the interrogating on my own.

“Hey Morty,” I started softly, “what dimension are you from kiddo?”

“R-495.” Another Morty sent packing. Two started stirring at the same time, and I glared at Rick as we approached them.

“T-580.”

“H-692.”

We eyed the last one, gingerly sitting up to look at the two of us nervously. “Where are you from?”

“N-682.”

Thank fucking god.

*+*

We used Leader Morty’s portal gun to portal home, Rick still apprehensive to use what he called “flawed technology” but it turned out he’d rather use it than ask for help from the Citadel. We arrived home safe and sound, Morty still absolutely traumatized by whatever he’d been through over the past month. Rick said nothing, instead, he led the stunned boy into the laboratory he’d built under the house. When I moved to follow them, he held up his hand and told me to stay in the garage to wait for him. I flopped into my chair, opening my laptop to scroll through my social media feeds as I waited.

“(Y/N)?”

The voice at the garage door startled me, almost knocking me completely out of my chair. “W-What do you want?” I sputtered, desperately trying to steady my breathing.

“I was hoping you’d be ready to talk about things and maybe come home?” he asked sheepishly. He started to walk into the garage but a small ceiling-mounted laser shot at his feet, stopping him in his tracks.

“No Ryan, I’m not ready to come home,” I told him flatly, disregarding his stunned face and returning to my laptop. “Madi won’t be home until the middle of August. We’ll talk then.”

“(Y/N)-”

“You heard the lady,” Rick shot at him, emerging from the basement with a chipper looking Morty at his side. “She doesn’t want to see you right now.” Ryan tried to argue, only to receive a dangerous glare from Rick before slumping his shoulders and finally walking away defeated.

“I’m going to have to deal with that soon,” I sighed, leaning back into my chair and watching Morty. “H-Hey kiddo, how ya doin?”

“I’m great Aunt Nova. I can’t believe you’re living with us now! I’m really glad you got away from Mr. Dawes,” he told me, hugging me tightly before waving goodbye and disappearing into the rest of the house.

“Wh-What did you do to him?” I asked, my eyes bugging out slightly at the sheer night and day effect Rick had produced.

“I-I just erased the last month from his memory.” Rick shrugged, pulling my arm gently to get me to stand.

“You what?” I asked nervously. He ignored my question, opting to bury his face in my hair as he embraced me instead. “You okay?” I asked hesitantly, wrapping my arms around him.

“I was so scared, Nova,” he murmured, his voice muffled by my hair. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind, I’m so sorry. I thought you were right behind me and when I turned around and you weren’t there, jesus Nova I thought you were dead,” he rambled.

“W-We’re okay,” I soothed him as his body trembled against me. I was unsure of how to help, how to soothe a man who I never thought would need it, so I just kept talking, “I’m here, I’m safe with you.”

“I just got so worked up about Morty and when you said you felt safe with me-” His voice hitched a moment and he cleared his throat before continuing, “Nova, that meant more to me than you know.” I moved to kiss him again but Beth interrupted with a quick knock on the door. We broke apart just as she pushed the door open, me returning to my chair and Rick standing over his desk, trying to look interested in whatever gadget he picked up first.

“Dad, I don’t know what you did on your adventure today, but I have to thank you for attitude change in Morty.” She walked in and immediately a suspicious look crossed her face. “I’m glad you two have gotten so close.”

“She’s just handy to have around.” Rick waved his hand dismissively at me as he wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Don’t w-worry sweetie, you’ll always be my baby girl.”

Beth beamed under her father’s embrace and when he released her, her smile lingered. “Dinner will be done soon you two if you’re hungry.” She gave a parting wave before disappearing back into the house.

“In the other dimensions, how does Beth usually take it when they find out their father is into their best friend?” I asked nervously, staring at the door she disappeared through.

“W-Well, m-most Ricks, they, uh, try not let her find out,” Rick told me, rubbing the back of his neck.

+Ch9: Electric Feel+

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader

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fullmetaldevil-blog · 5 years

Text

Batim: Stitched Au CH. 7

Ok. I actually had this typed up awhile ago but lacked the sufficient time to actually sit and post it properly :p

summary: Benny is gone and is no where to be found. Now a determined Angel is out to find her demon accompanied by her band and loyal husband. Can they find Benny or will someone else find them whom has even bigger plans?

I hope you all enjoy

On with the show~!

Ch. 7 Bigger Plans for the Band

Bright and early in the morning Allison and Tom piled into Tom's truck and the man broke a few speed limits to reach the studio. They had stayed up all night formulating ways to trying to track Benny down based on what Allison knew of him. The mechanic and actress had placed many phone calls waking much of the band members (and got cussed out by a few) as to perform a thorough search of the studio before the facility opened to the majority of the staff. Tom was taking full advantage of the fact that he was one of the few key holders and had informed everyone to meet at the studio 2 hours before the studio was fully open to openly search for Benny without onlookers. They had hoped that Norman, Aaron and Giovanni's plan of leaving food sitting out had paid off since Benny was known to have a large appetite.

While Tom drove like a madman down the dark road and was thankful no cops were around to pull him over (not like he would have stopped), Allison was silently praying that they would be able to find her little lost toon. Benny didn't really see much of the studio except for the area's she frequented and she had no real reason to venture beyond the animation department and the music department. She had hoped that Benny hadn't ventured further then that due to the studio's maze like infrastructure and it was a common occurrence for new staff to get lost or turned around. She held her overcoat tightly in hopes that by the end of the day her coat would help smuggle a little friend out of that hellish place.

Tom pulled into the studio lot and was soon joined by another car. The mechanic got out to look at who was the other early arrival hoping it wasn't some random employee and he was relieved to see Norman stepping out and waving at him.

“G' mornin!” Norman hollered from his car, the man stepping out to reveal a tool belt around his waist full of tools, a loop of wire and a small backpack.

Allison looked at Norman wide eyed “What's all that?” gesturing to the belt and small tools.

Norman chuckled as he pointed to his equipment “Well normally I carry these in mah backpack, but I got 'em on mah side on that off chance we find Benny an' I can sneak 'em out with the bag. These are mah tools fer the projectors so I carry 'em all th' time.”

Upon Norman finishing his explanation Allison chuckled and held up her overcoat. “I had the same idea, I brought the coat with the idea of sneaking him out in my clothes.”

While the group lightly chatted, a few more cars pulled into the lot while 2 others came on foot. Tom, Allison and Norman turned to see Earl and Edgar arriving on foot while Leonard, Giovanni and Aaron all arrived by car.

“Huh. I didn't know you boys walked here.” Tom commented while looking at the twins whom were still trying to rub the sleep out of their eyes.

“Ay, We live just down the way from here so it's only a 15-20 minute walk.” Earl yawned while Edgar hung off his brother clearly having a hard time waking up.

Allison watching Edgar having a hard time waking up instantly made her think of Benny. At times in the morning he was slow moving, groggy and not always ready for the day. “I just hope Benny is awake and can hear us while we're looking for him. He isn't exactly a morning toon.”

Leonard flashed a huge grin “Which is why we make as much noise as we can. If were loud by either playin' music or callin' his name I'm sure he's bound to come running.” The man held up his violin to emphasize his point.

Aaron smacked Leonard on the back of the head playfully “Or to go running away, did you ever think about that numskull. Think about it, the room getting trashed was enough to scare him away, he might be edgy and run from any excessive noises.”

“I vote we check were we put all the soup cans first before we wake the dead by shouting all morning.” Giovanni added in. “He's been missing for a full day now, he has got to be hungry by now.”

“Which is why I brought this” Tom heading to his truck and came back with a huge roll of paper and laid it on the hood of his truck prompting the group to come over. “This is a map of the entire studio, even the portions that as still in development. When I was developing the first ink machine Joey had to provide us the original blueprint of the studio then we added onto to it. This is my copy of the blueprint that I'm thankful I took with me.”

The band members had gathered round and everyone stared at the pages in awe at the sheer depth that the studio had gone. None of them could have imagined that the studio was much larger then it looked.

“What's this area?” Giovanni pointed at a large circular area that was labeled ' Belly of the Beast' on the draft.

Tom looked to the spot that Giovanni had pointed to “Oh that is the 'Throne room' as Joey liked to put it. It's where he houses Bendy memorabilia with the purpose of impressing investors.”

Norman's face twisted in confusion as he eyed the area that was brought into question. He followed the only route that lead from that spot to yet another large room but the only entrance was in a corner of the room rather then a main hallway. It seemed odd. “An' what's this 'ere?” He pointed at the second smaller room that served as the only entrance to the 'throne room' gaining Tom's attention.

“Huh? Oh that's the vault.”

“I know that area!” Norman's outburst taking everyone by surprise.

“You do?” Allison spoke up looking at the projectionist confused. Her look of confusion was joined by the rest of the band whom had no clue half of the new additions of the studio existed.

“Yeah. Th' other day Joey was headin' down 'ere and I was gonna check that area first in the hopes that lil' Benny hadn't come that far down. I helped 'em down and then he was askin' me about what Bendy films mah lil sister likes. I told 'em which ones and he told me t' get them out the vault. He told me how to open it and I got the films fer 'em, then we headed back to the office and I had to go back to the music department.” Norman stared holes at the blueprint of the vault on the draft sheet. “When I was in there th' door 'ere'” he pointed to the door mark in the corner of the room. “It was blocked off by a large book shelf an' ink was around the base. I dunno what was beyond th' door but it looked odd.”

“That's where the ink for the ink machine is kept, along with 'the Ink Machine'.” Tom's voice causing the group to look at him and looks of confusion and the emphasis of the Ink Machine . “The Ink Machine not only helps make ink but it also filters and pumps ink throughout the studio like a giant heart. What we see up top is only a small piece of the real thing, that's the 'output' portion where the toons come out. It's 'heart' looks exactly like the one on the upper levels, but far bigger. The blue print for the Ink Machine is so complex it couldn't be all put on one drafting sheet plus along with whatever Joey put inside the machine.”

“So why couldn't you say something sooner? I mean about all that was going on behind the scenes with the Ink machine and Benny.” Aaron looked over at Tom with disappointment on his face.

The man's question made the mechanics shoulders slump “I didn't want to admit it, but I kinda liked the idea of a living toon. A little character who's sole purpose was to make people smile despite the stock market crash and the hardship that followed. That was the reason why I took such a ludicrous job along with the fact that it paid well. The longer I worked here and the more complex the project turned out to be, the more I realized I was in over my head and was too far in to just simply back out. Joey wouldn't let me and then my job wouldn't let me. I couldn't say anything cause Joey had threatened me.” Tom turned to look at Allison. “When I made the prototype ink machine it was only supposed to test on whether or not a object can be turned into an ink copy. The idea being that we can turn Bendy related objects into a physical replica of the toon, a 3 dimensional model if you will. That day I went to Shawn and asked to grab something from the scrap heap and he let me. I looked at the pile of Alice angel toys that were being tossed and saw one lonely Bendy plush that the eyes were accidentally mismatched and had somehow got stained yellow. I liked it on sight to be honest, something about it made me smile. It was unique. So I picked up the toy and brought it to the machine. To be honest a small part of me wished I could have kept the toy and that the process wouldn't work so I can get the toy back. Never in a million years would I have pictured that the toy was turned into a living toon somehow. After that, things got out of hand I was threatened by Joey into silence for if I said something or did something out of line he would go after my wife and have her hurt or worse.”

Allison stared at her husband in horror realizing that Tom was putting himself in harms way to protect her from someone who had no qualms about removing people by means of injury or death. That Tom had no choice but to endure threats to his loved one and carry the burden of the birth and death of the off model toon. She walked over to her cherished husband and gave him a warm comforting hug while whispering a small 'thank you'.

“So what exactly happen' when lil Benny was made?” Norman politely asked.

The mechanic smiled remembering the first day. “Well after I took one last look at the little toy and placed it inside the machine I went through the process of making sure the machine itself was ready. I threw the switch and watched the machine writhe around before a large glob of ink fell out the nozzle. At first I thought it failed and only succeeded in making some really thick ink, but when it started taking form I could only stand and watch in amazement. After a few moments a yellow colored Bendy toon was sitting in the ink and what really shocked me was when it was moving. It was alive. I couldn't help myself. I went over to look at the little new born and got to touch him for the first time, and he was so soft and sweet. A part of me was like a child, all giddy and excited at seeing their favorite character. The little toon was responding the sounds I made and my touches.” Then Tom's face turned bitter and angry. “Then Joey was shouting how the toon was off model and needed to be disposed of. I couldn't stand by and let that happen so I stood up to Joey protecting the toon who cowered behind me. We argued and while and when I was distracted Joey had grabbed an ax and struck me on the side of my head with the handle. I saw the little toon reach for me when I got hit and his reward was a slash wound across his stomach. I grabbed Joey's legs to try and keep him from going after the toon a 2nd time allowing Benny to escape. He hit me on the head again and I don't know what happened after that. The next thing I knew was I was in his office getting threatened into silence.”

The group had an overwhelming sense of pity finally learning Thomas's side of the story. The man had been lured in and used, and when the results came he got stepped on and shoveled over. A simple notion of helping to make something that made people smile got turned against him and brought him only pain.

A chuckle made the group look back at the man “Now I know that my little toon is alive, he is my responsibility. I brought him into this world and I won't let anything or anyone take him out. Though now we have a new problem on our hands rather then just finding Benny” Tom's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the blueprint laid before him.

“What is this new problem? We already have enough with tryin' to find a small toon” Giovanni roughly pointed out.

Tom turned to face the group. “Our 2nd problem is Bendy. The other day when I completed the 2nd ink machine it produced a perfectly on-model Bendy toon. He is alive just like his counterpart and is unfortunately in Joey's hands. The man forced me to come back here with threats to my livelihood if I didn't fix the machine to make a Bendy that 'acted right'. Apparently Bendy's behavior isn't like his cartoon self and according to Joey he is too much like his creator Henry. With any luck Joey didn't kill him, but considering how much he has invested in Bendy already he most likely has him hidden somewhere in the unfinished areas.”

Norman let out a sigh while pinching the bridge between his nose. “Great, now we got 2 lost chi'ren t' look fer.”

Tom gave and apologetic look to the band members “Sorry about this guys.”

“Ah, It ain't your fault Thomas.” Leonard spoke up walking up to the man. “You were doing what you were forced to and in a way it paid off. You got 2 loving cartoon characters and all we need to do now is just get them out., with this many of us it will be a snap.” The young man flashing a large grin. “Besides we're the infamous Joey Drew Studios band, the bane of Sammy's existence, the local terrors, the devil's musicians!”

“Speak for yourself. You, Edgar and Earl are the only ones that hold the title of 'the local terrors'” Aaron chided looking down at Leonard. “The rest of us on the other hand, proudly take the title of 'the Devil's musician's.”

The band all laughed and uttered various forms of agreement at the mans statement knowing that out of the entire group their youngest 3 members were the 'unholy terrors'. Words of cheers and the occasional pot shot was passed throughout the group before they settled down and looked at Tom. Giovanni looked at the rest of the members and stepped forward towards Tom and asked four words that drew all eyes to the mechanic. “Where do we start?”

“All right here's what we do.” Tom carefully folded the blueprint and ripped along the folds dividing it up amongst the group except for Norman and himself. “I want you guys to check each section of the map that I gave you and mark off any points of interest or areas where Bacon Soup cans were deposited. Most of this is reachable by elevator which I'm gonna unlock for you guys so can all go look around. I know we're all used to taking the stairs, but take the elevator. I know its sketchy as hell, but it is faster then running up and down the stairs. If you see something suspicious or think it might be Benny take note, but don't approach. I doubt Benny would deliberately harm anyone, but right now he is scared and alone, he might lash out if you just charge forward. Call out to him if you think its him. If he comes great, if not take note and keep moving we only have 2 hours.”

“'Ey guys we should move our cars so no one sees 'em.” Norman gestured to the small collection of cars in the studio main lot. “last thin' we need is Joey knowin' were 'ere.”

“See I told ya this is a stealth mission!” Leonard's voice piped up. “Instead of 'Escape the Hell Studio' it's now 'Toon Trouble: Search and Rescue.” The man flashing a wide grin at the group as he waved his hands outlining the title as if it were on the side of a theater entrance.

Aaron and Giovanni both looked at each other as to who wanted the pleasure of throttling the kid first. Tom beat them both to the punch by playfully smacking the kid on the side of the head at the same time Norman took a swing. The two musician's lamented that they couldn't get a shot, but smiles graced their faces at seeing a lighter side to their normally grumpy GENT mechanic.

“Boi this ain't time fer no games.” Norman lightly scowled. He secretly wanted to thank Leonard for at least lightening the mood since they all had a serious task on their hands.

“C'mon kid. This ain't a game, lets move the cars then find our toons.” Tom moved past Leonard whom was rubbing the spots where he was struck. Leonard briefly stuck his tongue out at the man, but immediately pulled it back in when Norman stood over him smiling before lifting him up by the back of his coat and trailed after the mechanic.

Allison, Edgar and Earl waited by the entrance as they watched the group one by one file into their respective cars and move them towards the back side of the studio lot out of sight of the entryway. Norman had long since figured out Joey's route to the studio and made sure everyone parked on the side that the man doesn't venture past. The group was more then thankful for the projectionists habit of observing habits. Leonard made a few more jokes about it being a stealth mission and even started playing his violin in a ominous manner while humming a tune calling it his 'theme song'. Thomas saw red and chased the man all the way back to the entrance trying to throttle him with Aaron and Giovanni right behind for backup. Norman being the only one to school his temper quietly followed wishing that the 3 enraged men weren't trying to wake the dead with their curses, the loudest of all being Tom. Leonard coward behind Allison whom scolded Tom for being too loud. The man glared at Leonard and had no choice but to let it go and focus on letting everyone inside.

The dim lights of the studio lot offered little assistance as Thomas pulled out a set of keys and fiddled with the door and the lock,the building seemingly protesting the early entry. The door finally decided to cooperate after the man gave it a good solid hit and it creaked open revealing the haunting interior. Only the emergency lights were on casting long black shadows over much of the studio entrance except for the dull moonlight that shown through the door. One by one the group filed in the sounds of creaking and groaning wood being their only greeting at the doorway. The studio logo's film reels slowly turning their normal creaks and groans sounding less like their mechanics that drove them and more like the moans of a dying creature.

“Ooo Boy it's dark in here.” Leonard spoke up watching the faint outline of the Joey Drew Studio logo reels forever turning round and round.

“Brilliant observation Sherlock” Aaron groaned while nudging Leonard further into the studio so he could enter.

“Awww don't be like that Aaron ol' boy, and here I thought we might be needing these.” Leonard turned to face the group and opened his coat up revealing the internal pockets stuffed with flashlights.

“For a second I thought you were gonna flash me.” Aaron grumbled while looking at the grinning Leonard.

“We'll I am carrying flashlight's, so in a way I already did.” Leonard soon found himself scrambling away from both Giovanni and Aaron as the two men both lunged for him leaving Norman burying his face in his hands and Tom's hands twitching. The mechanic still wanting to throttle the kid for his earlier antics and now this little episode to add on to his list of reasons why to maim the kid.

“Guys! Guys. We don't have time for this.” Earl piped up shaking his groggy brother off his shoulder. “We only got 2 hours.”

“For once it seems like 2 out of the 3 brat trio is using their brains” Tom muttered making Allison chuckle.

Making sure that he wasn't going to be the target of a whooping, Leonard sheepishly passed out the collection of flashlights he carried to the group. Tom turned his down saying he and Allison already had theirs and to give the spare to the twins so they each had one. One by one the younger members looked at their portions of the map and heading towards their desired locations. The dark halls greedily devoured their lights one by one with only the small creaks and groans of floorboards as evidence of their passage leaving the older members behind. The twins volunteered to check out the new park area while Leonard volunteered to check out the new Administration section. Aaron wanted to go back to check the music department just in case Benny came back. Norman wanted to better map the locations of the Bacon soup piles left on the upper levels. Giovanni volunteered to check the toy factory on the off chance Benny hid amongst the production lines. Allison and Tom both were gonna check the animation department before moving on to the depths of the studio.

“Wait.” Giovanni spoke up before Allison and Tom went down one of the halls the man jogging up to them. “Here take this. I wanted to give it to him, but right now you need it more.” The man held out his hand and revealed a little off model plush Bendy. The toy looked exactly like Benny just minus the stitches. The man chuckled “I found it hidden in the scrap pile, looks like Shawn made a mistake when he was half asleep and didn't want Joey to find out.”

Allison gently lifted the toy out of the mans hand and brought it to her chest hugging it tightly. She then pulled the man in for an embrace “Thank you. This means so much to me.”

Giovanni hugged the woman tightly before releasing her looking her in the eyes “Have faith, We'll find him. He will be going home.” his answer was a small squeeze back and a little 'Thank you'.

Once Giovanni both the embrace he waved slightly before resuming his trek down the foreboding halls of Joey Drew Studios leaving Tom and Allison behind. The couple nodded and turned towards the animation department to begin their search.

---------An Hour Later------------

A low rumble of a engine echoed throughout the studio lot as a Black car pulled into a parking stall with a little placard that read 'reserved for Joey Drew'. The man in question stepping out of the vehicle slowly leaning heavily on his cane while carrying a bucket of ink along with a few papers covered in messy writing and unknown symbols. He looked worse for wear as he had spent the entire night researching methods of extracting souls from bodies and converting it into ink. He practiced on a good number of small animals till he perfected the craft of the conversion. He found that for the best conversion the subject had to be living for the process. The subject needed to be within the circle and with a fresh wound for the ink to enter and consume the subject body and soul alike, a little incantation later and a ink creature is born. Since the subjects were only rodents the inky forms made were mere globs of think ink that screeched and moaned, but they were controllable. They responded to commands, but the things didn't seem to last long and fell apart shortly after creation, but then again they were only small insignificant creatures.

Joey soon learned that controlling the inky creatures came at a price, using the spells gained from the book lead to tremendous stress on his body which was already weak enough from the aftermath of Polio. His joints and muscles tightened every time he cast the various spells and at some points nearly inhibiting his ability to stand entirely. It was draining his life energy as a source of energy for the process and the ability to control the ink. He needed the ink machine. The contraption was an endless energy source and was designed for the sole purpose of making the living Ink for the form, but not the soul needed. He now had a way of giving the ink the soul it needs to truly bring the toons to life.

The director hobbled to the entrance unlocking the doors and let himself in before locking it behind himself. He needed peace and quiet before the rest of the staff started showing up. He readjusted his grip on his papers and bucket and made his way to the reception desk where his wheelchair sat. He hated using the thing, but with the amount of strain he put his body through each step felt like a knife was shredding his muscles apart and he desperately needed a break. Joey placed the bucket carefully between the foot rests next to his feet with the hopes that it wouldn't spill and slowly wheeled himself down the hall towards the ink machine. The mechanical hearts slow thumping it's only sign of life, beckoned the man to it's location. Joey sat before it listening to the rhythmic tune before laying his papers out on a nearby shelf and setting the bucket of gelatinous ink down upon the floor.

A grunt exited the man as he edged himself out of the wheelchair and clung to his cane for balance. He studied the papers on the shelf intensely before grabbing paintbrush and returned to the bucket he laid on the floor. He gingerly dipped the brush into the ink and started to paint the required circle and all it's inscriptions for the conversion at the base of the ink machine. A small chuckle escaped the mans lips. The original circle that lay within the the heart of the ink machine that gave it the ability to create the living ink and in turn make the living toons wasn't that much different then the circle used to extract a soul. One to create the illusion of life and the other to remove a life and repurpose it.

It was only a matter of minutes for the new circle to be completed beneath the ink machine and Joey stood back up on worn legs to admire his work. He had a sense of giddiness and his heart beat loudly with excitement almost in sync with the machine itself. Soon, very soon he will be able to snag his potential candidate for Bendy and perfect the toon. Now all he needed was to set up the true heart of the machine and wait for the staff to start showing up. Yeah sure the young man by the name of Leonard was one of the leading band members, but musicians come and musicians go. He could easily replace him with a new member if it meant that Bendy was no longer a soulless doll.

Joey gathered up his ink soaked brush sliding it back into the bucket and chose to slide it over to his wheelchair rather then carry it gathering up his papers along the way. Once his papers were secured he slowly eased himself back into his wheelchair and pushed himself to the controls setting the ink machine to lower to it's heart to line up the circles needed for the ritual. He listened to the machine as it whined in protest before it conceded and slowly descended into the darkness to join it's core, a raucous laughter escaped the man as the chains creaked and groaned from the decent.

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

“Benny! Beeeeeeennnnny!!” Leonard hollered down the halls bounding with a skip in his step while he played his violin as loud as the instrument would allow. His only answer was the silence of the halls except for a small rumble that begun to emanate from further down the halls gaining the mans attention causing him to slow and listen to the sounds. “Benny?”

Leonard nearly danced down to the edge of the hall with the sound growing louder and peered around it's edge and spotted what looked like a strange elevator shaft lined with 4 massive chains and pipes creating the rumbling sound. Confused Leonard pulled out his portion of the map and saw that the part he was now in was not on his piece of the map. Great. He was lost. He looked up from the page to see a large boxy mechanism being lowered down the shaft. Allison's words played in his head of the description of the ink machine; a large box with a huge nozzle and a catch basin beneath it and the object in question just descended into the depths of the studio.

He knew he should have turned around have gone to go find Tom or one of the other members, but what if it was leading to where Benny was? He couldn't miss this chance and the machine wasn't going very fast. Leonard edged towards the shaft and set his violin down on a crate and pried open the grate knowing that by no sense of the word was what he was about to do safe, but for Benny he was willing to take that risk. Thanking his lucky stars that the chains were large and very close to the opening, he jumped to the chains grasping onto them firmly going along for the ride into the darkness.

The ride down the shaft seemed like it took forever and on occasion an opening would appear in the form of a vent or a grate that allowed a small glimpse into the new floors of the studio that were off limits to the remainder of the staff. He couldn't believe how far down the studio was now stretching to, and could only stare wide eyed at the new renovations. The man signed and carefully slid down to rest on top the ink machine itself as he peered out the occasional openings. One particularly large open came to view and he was able to better view the floor.

Leonard was an instant child clinging to the edge of the machine staring out at the large storage room area of the floor. The area was covered in parts and booths for the rumored 'Bendy-Land' that was being constructed. His mind danced at the thoughts of the finished amusement park, the roar of the roller coasters, the screams and laughter of children and the smell of all the food. By god he couldn't wait! He so wanted to take Benny to the complete park and have him play some games with him, have a cotton candy eating contest, see how many balloons it takes to make him float and so much more! First they needed to find him and get him out of the studio. Once the little guy is safely out he can freely visit him and play as much as he wants without fear of getting caught.

A giddy grin swept across his face as he happily swayed on the chains at all the possibilities when 2 figures moving by one of the booths caught his attention. It was Earl and Edgar. The redheaded twins were' inspecting' the booth by playing the game with Earl clearly winning his round of ball toss in comparison to Edgar. “Earl! Edgar!” Leonard hollered out enthusiastically waving.

The two young men spun in place searching for the source of the voice before their eyes were drawn to Leonard waving beyond a grate. The man and a large boxy mechanism that could only be assumed was the ink machine were slowly descending down a shaft beyond the grate. Abandoning their game, the two bolted to the grate grasping a hold of it's frame while looking down at the grinning violinist.

“Ey, man are ye daft?! What are ye doin' down there laddie?” Earl shouted, he couldn't believe his eyes. What on earth was Leonard doing riding the ink machine like its a horse and left alone where was it going?

“I'm going for a ride fellas, see ya later!” Leonard shouted in return, his voice's echo bounced off the walls of the shaft.

Earl and Edgar both stood at the grate peering into the void that had swallowed their friend and they could only hope for his safety. Both looking at each other wondering what they should do about the situation. Should they give up and get Tom or continue on their mission and look for Benny. The two debated amongst each other and ultimately decided to let one of the games at the booths decide for them. Both rolled up their sleeves while they shot challenges back and forth as they paced to a booth and readied their hands for victory. Each took up a rifle and started up the target practice game forgetting their search.

Leonard stared up at the small light that was his brief window to his friends with a smile. If he were to find Benny first he would so gloat about it and rub it in the twins faces, especially since they were spending their time playing games rather then looking for their friend. His giddiness gave way to awe as his mechanical ride entered a massive cavern descending to a far larger version of itself below. “Holy cow! That thing's huge!” the musician gawked at the true Ink Machine that lay at the heart of the studio.

The smaller ink machine came to a rest on top it larger counterpart clicking in place as bellows of steam exited the machine with the larger one creating such plumes from its base as well. Leonard waved the steam away from his face before taking a look around the cavern. The place looked to be a normal underground cave that had been tunneled into. The walls were lined by scaffolding and other building materials and there were even scaffolding around the base of the Ink Machine. He eased himself to the edge of the smaller ink machine and reached for the scaffold grabbing hold and pulled himself off the machine and onto the platform. He sat for a minute admiring the both the ink machine and the Ink Machine in their entirety. It was one thing to see them on Tom's blueprints, but it never puts them in perspective as to their physical size.

Leonard stood up and brushed off his bottom before he followed the scaffolding that surrounded the Ink Machine until it lead to a ladder allowing him to finally get onto the floor properly which made him briefly want to hug the floor for he missed it so much. The edges of the machine caught it eye as he watched plumes of steam exit it's sides and pipes far larger then he had ever seen descend into what he initially thought was a hole until he realized that it was a lake, a lake purely made of ink. He couldn't believe his eyes, he had always seen copious amounts of the ebony liquid throughout the studio, but never at this magnitude. He drifted towards the shore of the lake peering out at the cavern watching the sinister liquid as it greedily clawed at the edges of it earthen well and seemed to swallow all light that touched it. Leonard audibly gulped as he backed away from the edge of the earthen well back towards the base of the scaffold with something bumping into him.

A yelp escaped the man as he bumped into a small object causing him to whirl around and come face to face with a blank Bendy cutout. It seemed to be freshly made and lacked any black expect for the outline of the devil darling and seemed to be holding onto sign that was oddly blank, probably gonna say 'work hard, work happy' like the posters. Behind the strange cutout was a door and decided to test his luck by trying the handle. To his surprise the door opened and he followed the hallway leading inside. Unbeknownst to him while he entered the machine and drifted down it's hall, an elevator next to Joey Drew's new office and the man in question wheeled himself out of the elevator and headed directly for the vault. Joey carried on with purpose as he only had a half an hour left till the staff started showing up and it took him a good 15 to 20 minutes just to make the circle on the smaller machine, but the bigger machine will take a little longer and he didn't have much time to waste.

Leonard didn't know what to make of the hallway that was surrounded by large glass tubes with ink cascading within them. Were they to showcase the functions of the ink machine?Or were they part of the ink machine? He lingered at the glass watching to fluid within before pulling his eyes away looking around before he spied a doorway at the end of the hall. He rest his hand on the doorknob turning slowly and pulled the door open slightly revealing that the room within was dark except for the faint flickering of lights. He nudged the door open further and was met by a large circular room surrounded by silver screens with various Bendy shorts playing with oddly no audio. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at watching the shorts playing with no sounds, they are almost like ghosts dancing on a wall mocking their viewers. Leonard fully entered the room taking cautious strides taking note of the lone chair that was encased by the screens, 'chair' was a poor choice of words as it resembled more of a throne. The chains that hung from the ceiling leading to the chair didn't offer much comfort as the scene before him reminded him of some strange dungeon that was housing a beast, he could only hope this certainly wasn't the case.

“Benny? Benny are you here?” The man nervously called out. The cold atmosphere of the room was not helping his nerves.

His answer was a small soft whistle like whine drawing the mans attention to the imposing throne. Leonard edged around it fearing that the seat was occupied, but the noise he heard sounded so sad and in pain, he was willing to take that chance. He was met with a child sized figure sporting shiny boots and white gloves with a large ring driven through where the buttons would be located on each hand. The rings and a clasp around the wrists were bound in heavy chains pulling the arms away from the body. A white bow tie sat upon the upper chest area just below the head that was floating separate from the body. The head round and black with 2 small horns and a large white face with black pie cut eyes that bore traces of ink that ran down the sides of the face, and the normally trademark grin was turned into a prominent frown. Before him sat Bendy the Dancing Demon.

“Bendy!?” Leonard shrieked upon seeing the toon.

The man was shocked by what he was looking at, it was none other then Bendy the Dancing Demon the studio's icon. He remembered Tom had said that Bendy had been made, but didn't have a clue as to the toon's whereabouts since Joey had taken him. Leonard shook his away his brief admiration of the toon since he absolutely adored the character to take a closer look at the living toon. His hands ghosted the toons arms to the clasps and the rings that bound the devils hands and arms that still dripped with small amounts of ink from the wound. Since Bendy didn't seem to be responding to Leonard's presence, the man carefully fingered the rings that were driven through the toons hands. He found the little loops that held the rings closed and undid them and slowly slid one of the rings out of Bendy's hand causing the toon to jerk awake and bared large triangular teeth growling at Leonard, his teeth mere inches from his face.

“I-I'm t-trying to help you.” Leonard stuttered out, the man was spooked at his field of vision being filled with sharp teeth.

Bendy's growling continued till he looked at his hand and realized that it was no longer bound by the ring and two holes shown through where the ring were driven through. This man was helping him. A shaky smile crossed the toons face at his rescuer and he let out a small hum of appreciation. Leonard nodded in acknowledgment and started working on freeing the toons other hand and with a slow and steady tug freed the remaining hand of the ring. Bendy wanted to cry at the removal of the rings, but felt relieved when the objects were removed.

Leonard carefully looked at Bendy's injured hands and at the ink dripping from them. “Heh, too bad you're not fabric cause then I can try and stitch you back together like how Benny was.” He pulled out a handkerchief and patted the area around the holes being careful to not touch the actual injury itself. Bendy winced from the touches of his hand, but did his best to relax as Leonard cleaned him up.

“B-Benny? Who's that?” A small voice catching Leonard's attention and he turned to see Bendy looking at him strait in the eyes.

He could have sworn the toon just spoke, but that couldn't be right. Bendy had no speaking roles in the shorts as he had no voice provider. “Did, did you just speak?” Leonard looked at Bendy with confusion all over his face, his answer was a small nod from the toon. The man chuckled and turned his attention back to the chains that bound the toon trying to undo them. “Well the answer to your question is Benny is kinda like a younger brother to ya in a weird way. He's a toon just like you except he was once a plush doll that was made to look like ya and was brought to life by the ink machine.”

“So how come yer all th' way down here?” Bendy quietly asked as Leonard grinned in triumph and loosening up the chains allowing bendy to rest his arms on the armrests of the throne. The toon breathed a sigh in relief at being able to rest his arms rather then having them suspended in the air.

“Well little Benny got scared and fled his room when someone destroyed it, so now my friends and I are trying to find him before Joey does.” as soon and Leonard's words left his mouth Bendy growled softly making Leonard tense up wide eyed at the toon.

“I hate that man.” Bendy growled through gritted edged teeth. “He did this to me.”

Leonard's shoulders drooped while he looked at the toon in pity and understanding, it was only natural for the toon's to despise the man since he has done nothing for them except cause them pain. “Well know you aren't the only one.” Leonard's voice causing Bendy to look at him. “Benny has stitches that run completely across his stomach, a wound given to him shortly after birth by Joey. That's why we are trying to get him out of here, and now that I found ya I'm gonna try an' get you out as well.”

A small smile graced Bendy's face at the thoughts of freedom and the fact that there were people actually looking for him. He thought that no one cared for him and that no one would bother, but to hear that people actually did care and were even looking for him made a warmth bloom in his heart. He leaned his head over as far as he could comfortably go and gently nuzzled Leonard letting out a soft hum. “What's yer name?”

Leonard gently lifted a hand and ran his fingers between Bendy's horns before hopping off the platform and performed a small dace before taking a bow “My names Leonard Burn!” the man looked up at Bendy flashing a huge grin. “I'm a violinist and dancer here at the studio.”

Bendy looked at the man in shock at his performance before a chuckle escaped the toon as his characteristic grin grew on his face, his pie cut eye's locked with Leonard's. “Mah names Bendy. Bendy the Dancin' Demon.”

----------Meanwhile Outside the Throne Room----------

Joey shakily stood up out of his chair to open the vault and pulled on the door just enough to fit his body and bucket between the gap before pushing against the door forcing it to completely open. Part of him hated the fact that the heart of the machine was hidden behind such heavy doors and fortification, but at the same time it was for the sole purpose of protecting his property even if at the moment it felt like the studio was fighting against him. He had no choice but to leave his wheelchair behind as for it wouldn't be able to cross the ink lake making him wonder why a bridge had not yet been built. Taking mental note to maim GENT later about the lack of access. Joey slowly and painfully waded across the ink lake with his muscles screaming with the resistance from the thick fluid, it was certainly harder to cross the stuff in comparison to water.

Upon reaching the shore at the base of the machine Joey strode to the hallway leading to the throne room were Bendy was housed with his bucket of ink and brush. Only one more circle to go.

----------Meanwhile Inside the Throne Room----------

Leonard managed to loosen up the chains that bound Bendy, but lacked proper tools to completely free the toon, but at least the toon was more comfortable in the chair. The sounds of the door opening alerted both Leonard and Bendy as to another guest and the man dove down behind the chair in hopes that he wouldn't be found.

A silvery smooth yet taunting voice floated through the air “Ah, Bendy. How are we doing this fine morning?” Joey slowly strode up to the ink demon as Bendy was not paying the man any attention, his head turned away refusing to look at the man. “Still not very chatty I see.” Joey scoffed.

The man turned away from the toon and started to dip the brush into the bucket of ink and laid it on the floor slowly tracing the outline of the chair and throne. All the while Joey slowly went around the throne laying out the circle Leonard made sure to kept opposite of him using the chair to keep out of Joey's line of sight. The musician and couldn't help but wonder about the strange patterns being drawn beneath the toon's prison. Bendy grew weary at this new outline Joey was calmly adding on and didn't like the looks of what what going on. Each time Joey slowly rounded the throne with Leonard on the opposite side, the violinist would attempt to rub out small portions of the circle causing Joey to look in confusion as to why small portions of the circle were missing. He chalked it up to being exhausted from his 'research', the man shrugged and continued to lay out more of the circle all under Bendy's concerned gaze.

Bendy watched the small spectacle before him with concern and yet at the same time amusement at watching Joey slowly going round and round the throne and with each loop the older man looking more and more exhausted with the young man slowly following and erasing or smudging the strange inscriptions that were being painted on the floor. It was almost like a scene from a cartoon except in real life. Even Leonard flashed a grin as he quietly crept past Bendy trying to undo the marks on the floor gaining a equal grin from the ink demon.

Joey rounded the throne again and stared puzzled at the portions of the circle that he could have sworn he had just painted on. He bent down looking more carefully at the lines and noted a small smear on the end of some of the gaps. The man scoffed and pulled out a small bottle and poured out its contents, the black liquid almost gelatin like splattering upon the ground just past the circle. The man uttering a few small chants before picking up his brush and bucket once more while taking a glance at Bendy with a smirk before fixing the missing portions of the circle and then started to lay out the final touches.

Bendy stared at the questionable fluid just past the circle and feared the worst from it as he could have sworn he saw small spasms and things moving within the fluid. He could only watch as Leonard slowly rounded the throne with the toon making a small whistle like whining trying to warn the man of the impending threat. His whines grew louder when he realized that the fluid was pulsing and was forming what resembled a hand and Leonard was none the wiser.

Bendy swallowed audibly and lightly struggled in his bondage trying to make more noise to gain Leonard's attention, failing he attempted whispering his name while looking at the man. “L-Leonard...Leonard”. The musician too caught up in his sabotaging the circle, he failed to notice the black material reaching for him. The man yelped when black tendrils burst out of the fluid and grabbed him. “Leonard!”

“Well, well, well, look who we have here.” a sultry voice cooed as Joey slowly rounded the throne looking at Leonard who struggled in his restraints. “Why if it isn't my little musical friend I was looking for. I take it you've already met Bendy? He isn't exactly much to look at yet, but he will be.” The man patted the demon in question on the head getting a loud growl from him and bared teeth. “As you can see” Joey slapped Bendy on the side of the face extracting a whine from the toon. “He isn't well behaved and needs to treat his creator with respect.”

“Not that I can blame him.” Leonard frowned getting Joey to turn his attention towards the man.

“What did you say?” Joey lifted a brow as he stepped away from the throne and slowly walked towards Leonard giving the man a cold stare.

Leonard wanted to cower in fear as the mans frigid Grey eyes seemed to stare into his soul, but seeing Bendy struggling to free himself spurred him to stand his ground. “I said; not that I can blame him. You make him with the machine and then you tie him up all the way down here where he should be meeting the staff and most of all the children he was meant to entertain. Do you have any idea how many people and children wish they can meet their favorite little demon?” Bendy looked at Leonard wide eyed and the mans outburst, the musician looking at him dead in the eye before returning his gaze to Joey. “But no. He is forced to stay down here when he has done nothing wrong and you're not his creator! Henry is!” Leonard spat as he struggled in his binds. He was outraged that not only had Joey harmed Benny when he was a sweet little innocent toon, but seeing Bendy's condition and treatment lit the fires of rage in him. How dare someone hurt the cartoon character he loved so much.

“You're similar.” Joey sauntered up to Leonard being mere inches from the musician.

“W-what?” Leonard croaked.

Before Leonard could react Joey grabbed him by his hair and forced the man to look at the director dead in the eyes. “You show up out of nowhere and try to tell me what I can and cannot do like you own the place. I'm Joey drew, director and owner of this studio. I own him as much as I own everything here!” the older man bellowed in his face before quieting down giving a cold smile. “Just as much as I now own you.”

Leonard looked at him confused before a sharp pain radiated from his side. Joey released his hair allowing him to look down at the source of his pain seeing a knife embedded within his side between his ribs. Joey pulled out the knife and waved his hand causing the black liquid that had Leonard bound to drip off him and he collapsed to the floor like a puppet who lost his strings. He coughed and gasped for air as Joey scoffed at him before he cleaned the blood off his knife and slid it back into his cane.

“Leonard!” Bendy screamed at the man crumbled on the ground. “Joey what did you do to him!?” the toon turned his attention to Joey baring triangular teeth and struggled harder in his chains.

“Oh I punctured his lung, nothing to worry about.” Joey smiled darkly at Bendy. “Besides I need him alive long enough for the procedure, and not put up a fuss.” The director waved his had and whispered a few chants causing the black material that had dripped off Leonard to pool around him and drag his body off to the side and away from the throne, a trail of red and black following the injured musician. Taking opportunity to finish what he had started, Joey picked up the brush and repaired the smeared sections of the circle completing the initial ritual.

“Joey please.” A voice catching the mans attention as he turned to look at Bendy whom had large tears dripping down his face as he looked desperately at Leonard and the blood collecting under him. “Please let him go. I promise I'll stay here willingly, and do whatever you want if you let him go. He's hurt and needs help. Please.” the toon sobbed and choked on his words each each word growing more desperate.

“See there is a little problem with that Bendy.” Joey walked up to him with his smile growing wider and wider. “I need him to make you complete.”

Joey turned around and removed himself from the throne and drew another circle on the floor just before the throne itself. He made a small motion and the black fluid grabbed Leonard by his arm causing the man to weakly cry out in pain and dragged him setting him atop the circle. He pulled out the “Illusion of Living” and flipped to a few pages within and chanted for the black liquid to gather around the two circles joining the two. Bendy looked up at Joey in fear as the cursed liquid encased the base of his chair and around Leonard. The director smirked and stood off to the side of the circles and cleared his throat.

“An object void of life is merely an object till animated with magic, but it's still and object with the illusion of living. I offer up the soul of the living to bring the object with the illusion of life to life!”

Upon the completion of his words the two circles glowed a blood red and the floor creaked and groaned as the ground seemed to be lurching from the energy of the circles. The room was filled with deafening rhythmic thumping of the Ink Machine itself as the device was responding to it's masters commands. Joey stood against the wall laughing maniacally as pipes descended from the ceiling as if possessed, the machine groaned as ink oozed out the pipes like blood from a wound. Leonard weakly looked up at the pipes descending above him and looked at Bendy whom was looking at him with pure terror on his face.

A small chuckle escaped Leonard as he smiled at Bendy “At least I got to finally meet you.” the man whispered before the ink pooled around him and grabbed onto him.

The black tendrils cut into the man extracting small cries as his punctured lung couldn't allow him to scream. The ink worked it's way into his body making his writhe in agony as it was slowly suffocating him. Bendy screamed and fought to free himself to help the man, but his struggles stopped when Leonard's body stilled and the ink pulled him into the puddle as if he was never there. He was gone. Bendy wailed at the loss of the man who only tried to help him, someone who came to him with the purest intentions was now gone. The toon didn't have long to mourn the loss of his would be friend and savior as the ink that had consumed the man flowed to his circle joining the patterns that encased him. His panic rose and gave way to sheer pain as the cursed ink rose to form tendrils and each one punctured his chest. The ink that was once Leonard was being forced into his body and he felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out. Bendy's screams drowned out the sounds of the Ink Machine and Joey laughter as the man watched the ritual with glee.

Joey's laughter died down when he watched Bendy's body spasm violently causing the toons screams to cease as if he had been drowned in his own ink. The demon's ink dripped profusely as his body twitched and warped, his limbs and frame contorting to a figure that was more then twice his normal size and looked vaguely humanoid. His frame was skeletal like someone had taken a bucket of ink and poured it on a skeleton topped with a round horned head. His right hand looked like a humans with 5 fingers and no glove while his left hand retained it's tooney appearance and was far larger then his right. His body had spasm so violently that the ink that made up his right leg was bent at a awkward angle resembling a broken limb that healed wrong. The most disturbing part was the toon's face. Ink seemed to be constantly dripping over his eyes obscuring them and only the frown of his mouth was visible. The horrific form only lasted briefly before the toons body fell apart with all the excess ink falling off him in waves revealing a unconscious on model Bendy.

Before Joey approached the throne to check on the toon, he watched the excess ink that had washed off the toon pool at the base of the throne. The ink pulsed and vibrated before it was drawn back to the smaller circle where Leonard had been sacrificed. The ink bubbled and rose to form a vaguely humanoid figure. The creature was curled up and had a very prominent skeletal look and like the previous monster Joey had witnessed, this creature too had ink dripping down it's body. The creature twitched making Joey freeze in place to see what it was going to do, the man grasped his cane tightly on the off chance he had to fight. The creature slowly moved and looked down at its hands which were 4 fingered like a toon rather then 5 like a normal human being. It them began to inspect the rest of it's body slowly before curling in on itself sobbing softly.

The small click of Joey's cane drew the inky figures attention towards him and the man was horrified by what he saw. The face while clearly humanoid, lacked anything distinguishable. The mouth was a gaping maw that seemed to be frowning and there was no nose at all except for 2 small slits. The eyes were the most frightening as they were hollow sockets with small glowing yellow orbs and appeared to be crying.

“W-What did you do to me?” The creature quietly asked. All the color drained from Joey's face as he realized that the voice belonged to Leonard, the man was now some creature made of ink. He watched as the figure that was known as Leonard once again looked at his body before curling in on himself.

Joey stared at the figure. If this was indeed Leonard and he remembers what was done to him then that makes him a witness. If he's able to reach someone then he can expose him for what he did down here, he can't let that happen. Joey chanted lowly and waved his hand. The Ink Machine groaned in response and more ink oozed from it's pipes dripping onto the floor splashing loudly. Ebony Tendrils formed from the ink and wrapped around what remained of Leonard, the inky humanoid cried and screamed as it was dragged down the hall with Joey following behind. The tendrils dragged Leonard all the way out of the Ink Machine and to the ink lake at it's base pulling the tortured soul to it's surface. The shores of the lake thrashed at it's intruder, but was more then happy to consume it's offering. It greedily grabbed the poor soul and despite the man's struggles and effort it pulled him under with ease.

The surface of ink had long since quested while Joey watched with baited breath until he was dead certain the man would never see the light of day. He turned on his heel and hobbled back to the throne room in time to see the pipes of the machine slowly ascended back into the ceiling and the machines thumping died down to a quiet hum returning to it's normal operation. Joey scowled at the unconscious toon in the chair. He failed to find a compatible soul for the toon and needed to find someone else he had many candidates to choose from. Hell, he'll use everyone in the studio if he had to.

The man tucked the book back into his pocket before turning on his heel and strode out of the room turning off the light leaving only the glow of the projectors playing the cartoons on the walls who smiled sadly at the loss of one of the key band members who gave them their joyous music.

#batim stitched au #benny the stitched devil #benny the stitched demon #benny the stitch devil #benny the stitch demon #allison pendle #allison connor #batim allison #thomas connor #batim thomas #norman polk #joey drew #batim ocs #bendy the dancing demon #bendy the devil #bendy the dancing devil #bendy the demon #ink demon #lost one

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baritonetcc · 5 years

Text

Talent

I can’t believe where I am, I look like a protagonist of a cliche anime scene. Allergy-inducing blossoms and buds rain down around me, in a slow breeze, so more like a caramel rain. My only ride is running late, so I’m forced to remain on school grounds past my scheduled time of death. The school courtyard is empty, since school has been out for long enough for the buses to leave, and athletes were changing for sports practice. I’m sitting under a tree, finishing up a book that I stole from my English teacher’s shelf (thanks, Mr. Bradner). Oh hey, speaking of Mr. Bradner, I should go hang out in his room. The breeze is blowing majestic fronds into my not-so-majestic hair and mouth, so an empty classroom would be a nice chance of pace. I’m sure Savannah has stopped annoying him by now and pissed off to whatever hellhole she crawled out of.

I’m walking up to the building where Mr. Bradner’s room is, and Andrew Pratt bursts out of the doors, clearly late for track practice.

“Where have you been, Tommie? I’ve been looking for you forever! I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Oh boy, here we go with his questions. If he asks me for answers for the math review again I swear-

“So some of the band members have been wanting to perform in an ensemble for the talent show, a big band. We wanted to play ‘Feel The Love Go’ by Franz Ferdinand, and we need someone to play the alto solo...?”

He knows that I’m going to say yes, doesn’t he. He couldn’t have asked any other alto sax player? He couldn’t have had another instrument play it? I think it would be really cool on piano.

Thinking that I wasn’t getting the hint he continued, “So would you be interested in it? We really wanted to give it to you...”

I finally open my mouth, knowing that Andrew’s coach is going to murder him. “Sure. Text me when you can, now go to practice.”

Andrew is so good at life. He gets along with his family, he has an amazing dog, he’s a great trombone player, and he’s a track star. I wish he was better at managing his time.

I sink into a desk in Mr. Bradner’s room, where he’s correcting papers. He likes to work until he’s done with whatever task he assigns himself before going home, so I don’t say much. I go through the tasks I have written in my planner, and it’s quite bare, more than usual. I occasionally look up to see Mr. Bradner scowling at someone’s chicken scratch, or whoever’s in the hallway. Hey. Mr. Heser’s walking by. Eventually, my phone buzzes with a text.

Andrew P(rat)t: Kyre has all the music for the group, u should go take a look ok?

What a slacker, I hope he trips because he was texting me instead of tying his shoes. I gather my things and head down to the band hall, where Mrs. Kyre resides. I get to thinking about the important questions. Who else is in the group? Why can’t I just NOT be in the talent show? I was hoping I could spend the rest of the year taking it easy, without having to worry about the talent show in June. I find myself in the band room, where Mrs. Kyre conveniently remembers to hand me the music upon seeing me. Andrew set me up for this. I whip up my hair and bust out my saxophone. I stay in the actual band room, since it’s not being used and I’d rather not lock myself in a practice room. I glance at the clock while wrestling the ligature onto the mouthpiece. I can’t believe it’s already almost four, I should’ve just walked home. I warm up quickly, look through the music, and begin trying it. Whoever wrote this isn’t half bad at transcribing, and they thankfully took mercy on the alto saxes. It was probably one of Andrew’s nerdy friends. Wait. I’m one of his nerdy friends.

I dig into the piece, and I get into the solo part. I honk my soul out with the epicness that Adolf Sax couldn’t even begin to imagine, when I see someone walk in out of the corner of my eye. I’ve never sightread this well in my entire life before. Hell yeah, check out this badassery, Mrs. Kyre! And then I realize it’s not Mrs. Kyre. It’s Miss Avery. In that moment, I forget what key signature I’m in. I don’t know what measure I’m on. I forget how to finger any of these notes. What’s a note? I hopelessly squeak a half-assed attempt at the rhythm written on the page, then stop because I think my ears have actually fallen off.

Miss Avery smiles at me. Of course she does. She doesn’t know half of the effect she has on me. I try to talk to her, but all the words stick to my throat on the way up. Oh, and my saxophone is still in my mouth.

“Wow, that’s some real nice stuff there. You’re so into your whole band thing. I love it.”

I know she’s lying. That was the worst sound I’ve heard since hearing someone MacGyver a thick layer of aluminum foil in between the rollers of a Polaroid camera, then threw it at a running band saw when the shop teacher walked by. I didn’t even know my instrument could make such racket.

“Thanks, Miss. Are you looking for Mrs. Kyre?”

“Yeah, actually. Oh, there she is.”

Miss Avery and Mrs. Kyre set to getting completely distracted with whatever they talk about, and I get through the rest of the song.

I can’t believe I’m in Andrew’s living room with my saxophone. Honestly, it’s kind of cozy though. All of us practicing together, on these nice pillows and not in the band room. The entire way here, I complained to my friends via text about going to Andrew’s house, but I’m enjoying myself more than I made it seem. It’s a nice tone overall, and it’s a nice change since our drummer isn’t here. It’s a calm and quiet evening, and some jazzy tunes makes it powerful. His mom also makes otherworldly cupcakes. They don’t even have frosting or anything, but they taste like a sweet, buttery blanket of the warmth of innocence. It’s a week before the final show, and we’re really just working on dynamics and expression to really nail the song. Since it’s so close to the show, there’s been a lot of hype. Miss Avery asked me if I was going to see the talent show. I really wanted to surprise her, so I told her I was going, rather than informing her that I was in it, like the good child I usually am.

It’s the night of the show. I’m standing offstage in my snazzy tux (thanks, Andrew’s mom) and holding my saxophone. I usually don’t wear anything like this, which is why I’m borrowing something that Andrew’s mom pulled out of his closet from a couple years ago. He’s tall and skinny, so I didn’t have to steal anything recent from him. Last minute, we figured the stage would be blazing by the time we got on, so we ditched our jackets. The sleeves of my stark white shirt are neatly rolled up, and it’s not a bad look for me. This shirt fits surprisingly well, with the buttons over my chest doing their job, even if Andrew is a stick compared to me. Apparently, one of the trumpet players had a problem with the fact that she wore her nice diamond earrings, and I wore purple gauges. I can’t wait until she finds out that they glow in the dark. They match the album cover of the song we’re playing, so I think I win here.

I peek around the curtain, since nobody really cares at this point. The theatre’s seats are filling in with equal amounts of snickering teenagers and parents with genuine concern for our generation. I silently thank them as my eyes wander. Our theatre has planetarium-style lighting, along with the typical lights lining the wall. It’s calming to see all the bustling shadows of people finding a place to sit. I look up towards the back, and see Miss Avery coming in. She seems like she’s in a rush, and she’s looking around frantically. I dismiss the idea that she’s looking for me...but, is she? She spots a group of other teachers and they wave her over. Probably not, then.

A couple kids eventually take the stage to thank everyone for coming, and begin intoducing the acts. I suck on my reed absentmindedly.

There’s a few dance groups, which were definitely all entertaining. Someone did a backflip off of a chair. There’s a lot of people who sing, including Savannah, who sang some basic, repetitive pop song. The musical acts are impressive, but maybe I’m just biased. Finally, the curtains close, to open for one last time. A bored looking junior steps on with a microphone, telling the theatre, “The last, but not least act we have is a band ensemble. They will be performing ‘Feeling Love Go’ by Fronz Ferdindand.” Whatever, close enough. “The group consists of various members of our school’s band, and features a saxophone solo, played by Tommie Byers.” That’s me.

We hurry to get all of our equipment on stage. The most terrifying part was Talon’s fancy Moog keyboard setup, and making sure we were all in the right place. As we’re setting up, ‘Paper Cages’ plays. I’m wondering who’s responsible for shoving Franz Ferdinand down everybody’s throats. It’s probably the drummer. Our bari saxes conveniently bump their stands together, knocking over their music. I stand in my assigned spot perfectly, and the curtain opens. I haven’t even thought about Miss Avery again until now. Did she enjoy the rest of the show? Has she already gotten up to leave early? Once my sight adjusts to the dark sea of humans, I find her, with her eyes trained on the stage.

The song kicks in, starting with just the rhythm section. The winds then pick up on the melody, and the guitarist strums out funky chords. Talon and his brother work magic on the keyboards. The brass delivers a bright punch, lead by Andrew. I swell with anticipation as I feel my solo come up. For some reason, I look right at Miss Avery, who has no idea what’s going to hit her. I wink. God, that was probably so cringe-worthy. I bust into my solo, starting small at first. Then I’m out there, jumping the octave, and tonguing some banging rhythms. The winds start doing this siren sounding pattern to fill in. Am I dancing? Oh God, I’m dancing. I kick out my legs and do that weird swinging squat swing like every dramatic sax player does. The brass kicks out, except for one trumpet, which follows the siren action. My solo ends after some dizzying sixteenth notes, and I’m still swayed by the music. The rhythm section continues the ride with the winds, until the song ends on a kind of questioning note, almost as if we are prompting the audience to react with whatever they were holding in the whole time.

Everybody loses it, maybe because it’s just the last show and they want to go home. All the show’s participants rejoin on the stage for pictures and such. Some kids were getting flowers from friends and family. I run down into the rapidly emptying theatre, still huffing, still red from the lights, and still holding my saxophone. My neck strap digs into my skin, as I chase after Miss Avery. We make eye contact, and she grins at me.

“So, what did you think?” “What did I think? Well, I didn’t! That was awesome, kid! When you stepped up with that solo, my mind was blown. You did great up there, and I’m sure every person in this room enjoyed it!”

“Oh, thanks! I...I worked really hard on it, and it was really fun, actually.” “You don’t have to say that, I think we alllll knew how much fun you were having up there,” at this point, Talon’s younger brother came to retrieve my awkwardly dangling saxophone, “and I had no idea! How come you never told me that you guys were getting together to do this?”

I chuckled, “Well, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

“That was amazing, and I’ve never seen you like that before. Come here!”

Before I know it, her arms are around me. I can’t imagine that it’s pleasant to hug a musician so passionately right after their performance, but my endorphins don’t care. Miss Avery gets a parent to take a picture of us together, and my new lock screen is Miss Avery with her arm around me in front of the stage. I’m still wearing my neck strap.

#miss avery #tc imagine #kind of #this got really long #tcc love #tcc blog #tcc community #tc love #tc community #teacher crush #teacher x student #tc blog #female tc #female teacher crush

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