#Like nah Gwen is gonna grow as a person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

messylustt · 10 months

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I really like your stories, and I had an idea. I wanted to ask you if you could write a story where for some reason some of the Spiderman, like Gwen, Hobie, Miles, Peter P. With Mayday, Pavitr, Y/n and Miguel must take a car and Y/n has to sit on top of Miguel because there is no space left, Hobie is driving and he takes a lot of potholes, so Y/n bounces a lot on Miguel and he gets hard, so you know.. it's kind of difficult for them. If you know what I mean.

If it's not a problem thank you in advance 💞 anyway don't worry 🕷️🕸️

bumpy ride — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). longer name. stuck on miguel’s lap in a car.

“a car?” miguel asks, staring at hobie who's leaning against an old fashioned plymouth barracuda. “mhm,” hobie hums, raising his brows with a smirk. “why can't we just...you know...web sling to the evil guy?” peter asks, watching as miles walks up to hobie and the car clearly already fine with the idea. hobie pats miles shoulder, pleased. “come on...we're tryna be subtle.”

“and you think...” gwen gazes around at everyone. “...like, seven spider-people driving in a car is subtle?”

“eight.” hobie gestures to mayday who's hanging upside down in the baby strap attached to peter. miguel sighs. “we don't have time for this. just get in the car.” he begrudgingly walks towards it, making hobie's smirk widen. “where did you even find it?” you ask, beginning to step closer as well. “he probably stole it." whispered pavitr, as he walks beside you. you hold back an amused smile at this.

“nah, i di'n't steal it, mate.” hobie says, eyeing you both as everyone began to find seats. “i've always been a good cit'izen.” he watches as pavitr slips into the back, scoffing. you raise your brows at hobie, you seeming to be the last one to get in. “and you're definitely not someone who changes their personality 24/7. just for the fun of it.”

hobie shakes his head, that bloody side smile still present. “oh, i luv stayin' consistent, babe.”

liar.

when you opened the car door, looking in for room you realise that all the seats are full, gwen in the passenger seat (miguel having claimed that he really didn't want to see hobie drive up close), while everyone else almost squished in the back. your gaze fell on the closest person to you. miguel. he closes his eyes for a moment seeming to think, before he reaches for your wrist, pulling you down to sit. straight on his lap.

your breath hitches at the fast movement, your body tensing. then his breath is by your ear. “relax...what do you think i was gonna do?...break your arm?” you manage a scoff, shifting slightly so that you could a find a comfortable sitting on his thighs. “no...i thought you were reaching to shut the door in my face.”

“maybe i should have.” miguel mutters just as hobie drives off. throughout the ride your friends talk about a mixture of a plan to defeat this anomaly and how terrible hobie's driving is. and it...was pretty bad. he seemed to like the feel of the excelerator a little too much, as the car drove through radom small potholes. your hand had been gripping the back of a seat, while you occasionally bounced and were forced to shift on miguel.

miguel's grip had slowly moved to your waist, his claws digging in a fraction when you would move right along him. now at first you couldn't really feel miguel's growing bulge, one that made him slightly bare his teeth in a silent snarl. “are you trying to break my hips?” you whisper in question to him, leaning back slightly against his chest to reach his ear. he stiffened, you practically against him entirely. and god was your moving making his chest rise and fall a little quicker.

you had to stop moving so much, or... “i will if you keep moving like that...it's annoying.” he says, trying to seem unbothered. “i can't help that hobie drives like this.” you hiss quietly back. “and you know what's annoying? taking off my suit to see your claw marks.”

you shouldn't have said that, because the visual of you taking off your spider suit and the thought of you being marked by his claws made miguel's hard on grow. now he was annoyed, and turned on. extremely. he purposefully tightened his grip around your waist, now wanting to leave marks as he subtly kept your back to his chest, mouth moving to your ear. then you feel it, and your eyes grow wide in realisation.

thank god your friends were too busy talking (arguing) over something rather loudly, because miguel's hands began to very slowly move your hips along him. butterflies swarm your stomach as you hear a quiet groan in your ear, clearly only meant for you. “miguel — ” you whisper in shock and question.

“shh.” miguel whispered in your ear, your cheeks now feeling flushed. his breathing was harsh, as pleasure shot through him, feeling you rub against him, his hands still slightly moving your hips. “just a little relief...” he almost muttered to himself, but his mouth was still by your ear. “what are you...” you drift off, gulping down your own arousal at the situation, because the small back and forth rubbing of your pussy against him is beginning to make you wet.

“mm...eso es...” miguel quietly mutters, wishing he could move your hips harder against him, but knowing that that'll catch the attention of your friends. you tried to hold back a small groan of your one. “shh, you gotta stay quiet for me”

“w-we shouldn't...” you choke out in a whisper. but miguel's grip hasn't let up, his mouth slightly opening in a silent pant by your neck. “i didn't think you'd feel this good, cariño...carajo.”

“so...good.” he mutters, most of his words sounding as though he's speaking to himself. “i — i can move to someone else's lap...” you suggest, trying to keep your voice normal. miguel shakes his head, his lips brushing your neck. “no...y/n...you're staying right here.” and now you're sure your waist is tainted with miguel's claw marks.

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vhstown · 9 months

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i saw a video on enneagram types and i think miles and gwen are both type 6 but display very different levels of health within that type

itsv and atsv spoilers obviously (not a proper analysis just some thought dump)

(type six is "the loyalist" — committed, security oriented, engaging, responsible, anxious and suspicious according to the enneagram institute)

not going into wings or tritypes because i feel like it'd just get too complicated and too out of character trying to stretch it i just dont think it's necessary

for reference here is some info from the enneagram institute on type 6 (excluding wings and the manifestation of other types):

The committed, security-oriented type. Sixes are reliable, hard-working, responsible, and trustworthy.

Excellent "troubleshooters," they foresee problems and foster cooperation, but can also become defensive, evasive, and anxious—running on stress while complaining about it.

They can be cautious and indecisive, but also reactive, defiant and rebellious.

They typically have problems with self-doubt and suspicion.

At their Best: internally stable and self-reliant, courageously championing themselves and others.

Key Motivations: (and this is important) Want to have security, to feel supported by others, to have certitude and reassurance, to test the attitudes of others toward them, to fight against anxiety and insecurity.

would also like to add PURPOSE as a core motivation because it provides self-security

MILES is on the healthier end of the type 6 where he's more self-reliant, stable while committed to his core motivations. he trusts in himself even when there's uncertainty about the canon he is adamant on saving his dad because his need to keep his loved ones safe overrides any wider sort of disruption (focuses on immediate personal security rather than wider societal security like miguel or peter b might)

obvi he is a growing as a kid and developing character and you see the basic need to have security and support when he really wants to join the spider society and be involved in something way bigger and cooler and a more "official" community. the society is the peak form of security because it's full of his spider-friends who he finds reassurance in (and just appeals to his nerd self)

i think his core motivations are challenged when he realises he can't be with his spider friends anymore and is sent back to "his universe"

because he realises he can't find security in his friends he goes back to his normal life trying to find that in his family (when he's in earth 42 and tells his "mom" that he made a mistake trusting others and he's gonna stick with his family)

he's still a healthy six though because even at the end when he meets miles g he's ADAMANT on getting back to his universe. he's level-headed, motivated and set on his goal even though hes tied to a PUNCHING BAG and the prowler version of him is right in his face

he is impulsive but self-assured and i think that's what drives him forward WAY faster than any other characters. he's pretty much the only one in the whole spider-society who publicly defies miguel and his canon event theory (and while gwen does this too and asks miguel what'll happen she shuts up like immediately when miguel says "you wanna find out?")

GWEN is on the unhealthier side of the type six and a good contrast to miles' type six qualities; she's almost written like a foil to bring out his more pro-active qualities while she's hesitant and lacks confidence in herself

additionally his fixation on purpose changes a lot in this movie compared to ITSV when he wanted to fill the role of spider-man and be a hero i think miles is more of his own person now and while he mightve not found his purpose outside of spider-man he is still more self-driven than his past self

"nah, imma do my own thing." 😭😭😭

not hating on gwen by the way she goes through a lot and while it doesn't necessarily justify what she does it definitely makes sense when you consider that she's an unhealthy type six

gwen THRIVES in the spider-society and is desperate to join and keep her place in it because it's what gives her purpose. she doesn't have that security in her personal life like miles might (her best friend is dead, her dad tried to arrest her) so she has nothing to fall back on

she's a LOT more cautious and "lying in wait" in juxtaposition to miles because she's clinging onto what security she's given

she's lacking the loyalty that miles has, trying to be loyal to the spider-society (i dont blame her because this security RELIES on her being loyal, it's conditional) rather than the people she loves or things she believes

this is particularly because she's suspicious, defensive and doubts herself and her ability to bring about change. she just needs to belong so she can't make those decisions for herself and leave the security behind because she's not self-assured and personally secure like miles is.

again going back to miguel's canon event theory when she DOES try to oppose him she doesn't even fully challenge him she just asks if he really knows what'll happen if miles breaks a canon event to which he gives a vague answer and she doesn't question anymore. she's cautious and her beliefs are twisting around what stability miguel's spider-society provides for her even when there's something clearly wrong about it all.

however when she DOES lose that security and is sent back to her universe, because of her unhealthy traits she needs other characters' support. she almost leaves her dad again and then gives up entirely and tells him to arrest her because she believes she has nothing to fight for anymore. she doesn't have security ANYWHERE so she just completely falls apart and loses her purpose.

so her dad and hobie's support are VITAL to her re-emerging as a better character and we can see this with the spider-band she forms at the end of the movie.

she gets that reassurance she needs (that she probably never had) and realises that she CAN fight for her beliefs and the things she cares about. she's still motivated by her security but it doesn't govern her. she fights because of it rather than for it, much like miles does, and finds security in a more personal and self-contained way outside of the society, and that self-reliance is starting to form

I'd like to add that the point of "Excellent "troubleshooters," they foresee problems and foster cooperation" is what makes these two characters great superheroes and work so well in a team i just thought that was interesting lol

again i'd like to point out the reason why gwen and miles are so different is most likely because of their personal traumas. yes, they've both gone through a LOT but gwen is TOTALLY lacking in security (again, KEY MOTIVATION) without the spider-society. she doesn't have parents and friends to return to like miles might (her dad wants to arrest her and her best friend peter is dead)

however i think gwen in ITSV is a lot more of a better display of her healthy type six qualities and miles displays his unhealthier (to a degree at least) type six qualities when he's just starting to be spider-man so seeing them shift and grow and contrast and essentially change positions in ATSV is so cool

i think in BTSV they'll level the playing field and hopefully grow into their healthier selves? again miles is not entirely healthy as a type 6 he pushes people away a lot particularly his own family and parents as much as he might care for them because he thinks he can find better purpose somewhere else (the spider society etc)

would be really interesting to explore their relationship through this lens where they drive each other to be healthier (whether that relationship is platonic or romantic)

i think enneagram types are really cool and while they can be flawed and misinterpreted a lot of the time they're a good tool for characteristation

i watched itsv and atsv a long time ago so my memory is kind of fuzzy x_x

if anyone's read this let me know ur thoughts ! i've been into personality types for a while but i'm not a professional or anything just some random kid who likes to think a lot lmao. will edit or reblog w if i have any other thoughts too!

again this is all subjective. i think personality types are not definitive but very fun to look into <3

#gwen stacy #miles morales #across the spiderverse #character analysis #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales headcanons #gwen stacy headcanons #vee rants #enneagram #atsv #istv

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zeessmallwormhole · 4 months

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On friday, I finished Total Drama Island - Total Drama All Stars, so, I want to express my opinion about evey gen 1 character! ((Alejandro, Sierra, and Blainely will be included!))

also includes spoilers and mentions of both nudity and threats

— 🏝️ —

Beth - Honestly, I didn’t care about her much on Island and Action, but I do respect her for standing up to Heather and calling Courtney out. Someone had to at the time and I’m happy that it was her

Bridgette - God..what CAN I say abt her?? Her obvious worst season was World Tour, she was one of my least favorites in that season, but apart from that, she was a pretty decent character in both island and action

Cody - I forgot he existed for the 3 seasons he’s in until the final 3 tbh- He was so forgettable to me, but I feel bad for him in world tour

Courtney - 3 words; I hated her. She’s my least favorite character. I did try to give her the benefit of the doubt by trying to find her "iconic" moments, however, it was just her being a bitch and threatening people not once, but TWICE to split the million or die. The absolute ONLY time where she seemed like a good person was island, and she was part of the problem in that HORRIBLE love triangle story, I just don’t see the appeal of her

DJ - Bro was a soft giant- he didn’t deserve any of the treatment he got, I at least wanted him to be eliminated fairly, but nah, in all the seasons he was featured in, he was eliminated so unfairly like cmon..

Duncan -Apart Duncan being a big ‘bad boy’ , he didn’t strike me that way- he’s more like an 2018 gacha bad boy that tries so hard to be cool, especially at all stars, it was cringe-

Katie & Sadie - I forgot they both existed since they technically only competed in one season, but I do think they could’ve been minor antagonists since they’re best friends and could’ve been manipulative together

Geoff - Easily one of my favorite boy characters in the entire show, he was a chill guy ((although very chaotic)) and was honestly robbed in island, I was rooting for him

Gwen - If there was overrated put into one character, it’s Gwen, she is decent, yea, but Island was her best season, and only that- Although, she was a close favorite to me in All Stars, she was caring, but did not have to be in that damn love triangle.

Justin - He was OK. Not good, but not that bad either, he had some funny lines but I do wish he used way more than his looks

LeShawna - I do understand why she has the love and fame that she does, she isn’t afraid to talk shit and throw hands while being compassionate and competitive, it was a really nice mix of personalities for her, even tho I don’t understand her sudden turn on Heather when it seemed like they were gonna be friends in action

Noah - I HATE how this man actually got some development in World Tour when he could’ve had more if he’d just play dodgeball in island.. it’s still so annoying to me. But, his humor was fucking great and i’ll forever make fun of him for his gay ass running LMFAO

Owen - I never really understood his humor, and I don’t think that he should’ve won island, it didn’t fit him in the long run, no matter how kind he was..plus the nudity on NATIONAL TELEVISION was disgusting, he didn’t made me laugh in the slightest

Eva - I wish she stayed longer in the merge, she seemed like a hard worker and she was growing on me a bit-

Harold - Half of the time, I didn’t know what he was saying, he was super confusing but he did have good tastes in crushes, even tho he did get turned down

Heather - I know I’m going to sound like a hypocrite with how my opinion was with Courtney, but Heather is my favorite character in the seasons she competed in, and at least she’s mean and doesn’t manage to make it annoying to listen to, I love how she didn’t play and automatically started making alliances and talked strategy. Her win was definitely the most deserved one out of the show, and probably the most well written out of the cast

Trent - His derailment was so sad to watch like..He obviously cared for Gwen, and was probably the most sane person in Island- ..I think that’s all I can say abt him

Lindsay - She was iconically stupid and smart, I loved her a lot, and she definitely deserved to win action, very robbed there

Tyler - I felt super bad for him, his fear being used after bring eliminated, to Lindsay forgetting about him after action..I’m just glad that he’s finally remembered by Lindsay ((and hopefully dating))

Ezekiel - I see why people don’t like him..That’s it.

Izzy ((I forgot to add her)) - The IT girl of the show along with Heather, I loved her, and even tho she always lost, she never failed to be entertaining on screen, 100% my favorite crazy girl

Alejandro - Definitely the right love interest for Heather, he’s manipulative, simpable, and caused many eliminations. He played the game, and I like him because of that

Sierra - Apart from Courtney, she is also my least favorite character. Why? She’s stalkerish, knows NO personal space apart from Cody going to the bathroom, and is just overall a bad character- It seemed like the only thing she was good for was carrying Cody throughout the entire season..

Blainely: We’ve met this girl for like 3 episodes so I can’t provide much on her, however, she had the most iconic elimination ever..and you’ve really gotta be hated if you have a whole ass song dissing you by the chillest guy ever-

#total drama island #total drama #opinions

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soft--dragon · 4 years

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Speak of it again and I’ll kill you

Arthur had warned Merlin to never speak of what happened in the tent with Gwynevere, but since when did the warlock ever listen to him?

————————

Merlin hummed quietly to himself as he straightened the sheets on Prince Arthur’s bed, the Prince himself sitting at his desk writing up a speech for an important event. He occasionally glanced up at his manservant with an eyebrow raised.

“Merlin?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you please shut up.”

Merlin looked at the Prince in surprise. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re humming, it’s annoying” Arthur responded, “why are you so chipper today anyway?”

Merlin shrugged, smiling as he gathered the royal’s dirty linen into a basket for washing. “I’m just happy for you.”

Arthur’s confusion doubled at Merlin’s words. “Why?”

Merlin gave Arthur his signature grin which told the prince that he was about to make a cheeky comment. “You know, you fully accepting who your one true love is.”

“Excuse me?”

“Gwen” Merlin said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Merlin” Arthur looked back down at his work again, warning evident in his voice.

“What? I’m just saying it’s nice to see that you and Gwen-“

“Merlin.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re blushing again!”

“No I’m not” Arthur shot back, frustratedly trying to calm the growing heat in his cheeks.

Merlin sniggered. ”You are absolutely besotted by her aren’t you?”

“Shut up Merlin!”

“Alright alright” Merlin chuckled before mumbling under his breath, “I hoped that kiss would put you in a better mood.”

Arthur however, heard his servant. He stood from the desk, calmly walking around it to approach Merlin who had the good sense to take a step back. If Arthur was calm, it meant he was going to do something.

“Mind repeating that, Merlin?”

Merlin gulped, a grin pulling at his lips. “Uhhh, you’re absolutely besotted?”

“After that.”

Merlin studied Arther carefully. He had attended many of the prince’s training sessions and knew what it looked like when the prince was preparing to attack.

“I said...” he kept his eyes locked on Arthur who waited with rare patience for the answer. “That you...are a clotpole.”

Arthur lunged for his servant who yelped, ditched the basket of laundry and sprinted to the door. Arthur was faster however, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist tightly making him shriek before he could reach the handle.

“No! No no no no- I’m sorry Arthur!” Merlin struggled against the muscular arms that held him captive, dreading the merciless noogie he knew he would receive.

“I did warn you Merlin” Arthur half dragged, half carried Merlin back towards his bed. “I warned you what would happen if you blabbed about anything relating to the tent.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Apologising won’t help you now.”

“Lemme go Arthur!” Merlin slapped at Arthur’s forearms with his hands.

“Not a chance.”

Arthur grinned and suddenly began tickling his sides and ribs. Merlin shrieked in surprise, not expecting this sort of attack from Prince Arthur of Camelot. Hysterical giggles immediately burst from Merlin’s lips, kicking his legs out in reflex.

“Hehehehey! Whahahat thehehe hell Arthuahahar!?”

“What was that Merlin? Can’t hear you over your giggling.”

“I dohohon’t giggle!”

“Really? Cause it really seems you’re giggling right now.”

Merlin’s laughter picked up at Arthur’s teasing, his voice jumping higher as Arthur’s fingers moved to claw at his stomach. He scuffed the heels of his boots against the floor, squirming desperately for freedom against the onslaught.

“Arthur! Plehehehease stohohohop!”

Arthur chuckled at the high pitched laughter coming from his manservant.

“I’ve called you a girl before Merlin, but I never would’ve thought your laughter would be so girly.”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup dollohohop hehehead!”

“Take that back!”

“Never!”

“You’re really asking for it Merlin!”

Arthur’s fingers move to Merlin’s boney hips making the boy spasm, throwing his head against his captor’s shoulder.

“ARTHUR!”

Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this. It had been awhile since he horsed around with Merlin, and this? Tickling his manservant to a giggly mess? He finally had something to use against the boy if he ever needed to be taught a lesson.

Merlin was in hell. The shocks to his nervous system making him laugh and squirm like a child, not to mention the tickling rendered him useless within seconds. He hadn’t been ticked like this in years. His mother used to tickle him when he was younger and Gaius gave him a poke to the side here and there when he felt the necessary. Even Gwen had affectionately run a few fingers over his neck to cheer him up. But Arther wasn’t holding anything back. Switching between hard and soft tickles, spidering to tasering. He seemed to be too good at this. Merlin briefly wondered if the prince had ever done this when he was younger, when an attack on his ears made him squeal and jolt from his musings.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re ticklish here too!?”

The feeling of his large ears being attacked was too much for the warlock to handle. He couldn’t say a proper sentence as he cackled heartily, his efforts of escape doubling.

“You learnt your lesson?” Arthur asked with a grin, pausing in his attack.

Merlin slumped in Arthur’s arms, giggles still pouring from his lips. He considered before nodding.

“Then apologise.”

Merlin hesitated for too long, Arthur prodded at his sides making him yelp. “I’m waiting dollop head.”

“I’m sorry you’re such a besotted clotpole.” Merlin knew it wasn’t the right answer but sometimes he didn’t think before he spoke.

Arthur growled behind him making Merlin flinch, anticipating giggles spilling from his lips. “You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that Merlin.”

In a split second, Arthur pinned Merlin to the bed, digging into his stomach with no mercy.

The guards outside the Prince’s room exchanged a look when they heard Merlin scream.

“Should we check on them?” One asked worriedly.

The other shook his head. “Nah, judging by those screams, personally don’t wanna see what kind of punishment the Prince is giving that boy.”

“Yeah, me too.”

#the adventures of merlin #merlin #arthur #tickle fic #ticklish!merlin #fanfic #my fanfic

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littlemonstersau-blog · 5 years

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Meet The Parents

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

————————————————————————————————

Bill, meticulously arranging props in front of laptop: … Okay, that looks enough like organization getting unintentionally messy … [puts cotton balls in cheeks to make them rounder, straightens tie, puts on stolen glasses, picks up pen] And now, to wait for the skyelp to come through! [bends over “homework” as if dutifully studying … holds exact pose for over 5 minutes while quivering with excitement]

*laptop chimes as skyelp comes online*

Dipper, excitedly: Will? You there? I’m here with Mom and— [registers costume (especially new additions of sweater vest, tie, and glasses) and gasps]

Bill, beaming and voice-cracking: Dippy!

Dipper, breathlessly happy: … h-hey there …

Ms. Pines, squealing softly to her husband: My gosh, he’s so cute!

Mr. Pines, just as softly and trying not to laugh: He looks like a tiny, Irish accountant. Like he’s balancing the ledgers for the Leprechaun King.

Ms. Pines: I know! I just wanna pat his chubby, little cheeks and put a pencil behind his ear!

Dipper, blushing: M-Mom! Dad! Don’t embarrass me with B-Will! [clearing throat] Um, Will. This is m-my Mom and Dad.

Bill, dripping with wholesome enthusiasm: Pleased to meecha, Ms. and Mr. Pines! I’m William Corduroy, but you can call me Will. Or even (ugh) Willy, if you like.

Ms. Pines: Well, Willy, it is sooo nice to finally meet you!

Mr. Pines, sternly: What are your intentions with my son? [gets smacked by wife while son groans] What? C’mon, I had to ask it at least once. I’m a dad!

Bill: My intentions? [flashes through everything he’s imagined doing with Dipper since the twins had to go home … it’s pretty wild; blushes; starts to sweat] hhh … HOLD HANDS! MAYBE KISS FACE! CH-CHERISH! [gestures helplessly at Dipper] I mean, look at him! What else could anyone intend with him?!

Ms. Pines and Dipper: D’awww!

Mr. Pines, still sternly: You tell me. What else do you intend?

Dipper, burying face in hands: Oh, Moses, Dad …

Ms. Pines: Dear, stop, you’re making the poor boys nervous. And teenage boys already sweat enough as it is. Just look at Dipper.

Dipper: Mom!

Ms. Pines, insistently: We can have a talk about … safety and responsibility later. [Bill and Dipper exchange a horrified look] Right now, we’re here to get to know Dipper’s little boyfriend. So stop acting out clichés for 5 minutes, please. Now, Willy … um … How’s your day been? What’ve you been up to?

Bill, relaxing visibly as things go back on script: Oh, y’know. Same old, same old. School. Now I’m just here at the library, gettin’ my homework done for the weekend. [gestures at prop “homework” like a good student] Sorry I couldn’t do this at home where you could meet my dad, but we don’t have a computer. If you can believe that. It’s also why I’m still wearin’ these school clothes.

Dipper, confused: School clothes? Gravity Falls schools don’t require uniforms. They’re public.

Bill: Oh, well … Today was … special.

Dipper: Did you … dress up just to impress my parents?

Bill, a little defensively: Golly, I just wanted to make a good first impression! So your folks’ll, y’know … like me. And let us keep being together.

Ms. Pines, charmed: Oh, don’t worry, Willy. It worked; I think you look absolutely darling!

Bill: Gee, thanks! I can see where Dippy gets his sweet personality!

Ms. Pines: Oh, you!

Mr. Pines, rolling eyes: Okay, honey, dial back the falling for cheesy compliments. Anyway, Will, what do you like to study?

Bill: Oh, I really like math. Especially … trigonometry.

Dipper, snorting: Pff! Seriously? Oh, um, inside joke.

Bill: Perpendicular.

Dipper: Hahaha! C’mon, man, be serious!

Bill: Let’s see … I also like psychology. Dream analysis is fun, ‘cause then I getta tell people that, like, I’m the boy of their dreams … analysis! At least, I getta tell Dipper that.

Mr. Pines, snorting: Okay, I’ll give you points for that one, kid. Dad Joke level of corniness. 6.5/10.

Bill, grinning: Gee, thanks!

Mr. Pines: You getting good grades in math and psychology?

Bill, playing at modesty: Oh, golly, sir. I don’t wanna brag … But it is easier to work hard when it’s fun, y’know? Unlike the way they do history classes here.

Mr. Pines: Boring teachers?

Bill: Yeah. Plus, they’re complete schills for the conservative military-industrial complex. It’s bad propaganda done borin’ly.

Mr. Pines, perking up: What makes you say that?

Bill: Oh, the usual. The don’t even teach that Ben Franklin was secretly Gwen Franklin, that JFK was killed by mobsters from the future to keep him from becomin’ a robo-dictator, and that Ronald Reagan was a mind-controlled puppet put in power by a conspiracy of billionaires to keep colonizin’ other countries for their resources and essentially slave labor.

Mr. Pines: Ugh! Tell me about it! And it’s all because they want to keep the populace uninformed and easy to pacify.

Bill, defiantly: But it’s not gonna work on me! Or Dippy! We do our own historical research and stick it to the man!

Mr. Pines: Boo-yeah! Tear down corporate capitalism! [turns to wife] Okay, I like this kid.

Bill: I can see where Dipper gets his keen judgment of character. Along with his striking good looks.

Mr. Pines: Oh, go on!

*Dipper gives bill a secret thumbs-up*

Ms. Pines, smirking: Okay, now who has to dial back the falling for cheesy compliments? [turns back to Bill] So, math and psychology and rebellious history study … Given any thought to what you’d like to do with those when you grow up?

Bill, feigning thoughtfulness: I … think … I’d … like to make video games. Coding and design and such. But ones that make players think and be creative.

Ms. Pines, impressed: Really? Has Dipper told you that’s the kind of work I do?

Bill: What? No! Gosh, Dippy, why’d you never tell me! That’s just swell, ma’am! What kind?

Ms. Pines: Indie games, so there’s a lot of side-scrolling and retro RPG elements—very basic gaming elements— but sooo much more heart. And, like, artistic integrity. The kinda stuff that really touches people.

Bill, starry-eyed: That’s the kinda stuff I wanna make!

Ms. Pines: It’s not easy … but it’s worth it. So, how’d you and Dipper meet? When’d you start dat—

Mr. Pines: Wait, sorry, hold up. Is that a freakin’ skull? [points at shelf]

Bill, genuinely surprised: What? [turns, has to take off glasses to actually see] Well, gosh, it looks like it is.

Dipper, mouthing silently: Why in the 79 hells would you even put that there?!

Bill, honestly: I’m honestly not sure why the library’d have that. I didn’t even notice it.

Mr. Pines: Might wanna get your prescription checked, kiddo.

Bill: They’re reading glasses, so …

Dipper, mouthing silently: Where’d you even … ARE THOSE GRUNCLE FORD’S?!

———

[Meanwhile, back at the Shack, Ford, stumbling around all squint-eyed: Ah, Stan, there you are! Have you seen my glasses?

Sascrotch, standing mutely like a taxidermied figure: …

Ford: It’s the darndest thing. I’d swear I set them on the end table when I laid down to take a nap, but couldn’t find them when I woke up. Of course, I’m not having much luck finding my glasses without my glasses.

Sascrotch: …

Ford: What? Oh, am I still getting the silent treatment for saying you’re too old to have hair that long?

Sascrotch: …

Ford, indignantly turning away: Fine, who needs you anyway? I’d find them without your hel—

Ford, tripping: AAA!

Ford, lying flat on his face: … I’m alright!]

———-

Bill, continuing as if to the Dad, but actually to Dipper: It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. [goes and puts a book in front of the skull] There! Problem solved!

Mr. Pines: Yeah, that’s much bet … Is that The Necronomicon?!

Bill, genuinely surprised again: … Huh. Looks like it is. [picks it up, pages through it … shakes head] Nah, it’s just The Nockoffronomicon. You can tell ‘cause it doesn’t mention Shaggy or even Bob. And instead of Cthulhu, it’s dedicated to Cthhula. [puts different book in front of skull] The best dancer among the Elder Gods, am I right?

Mr. Pines: Heh … 7/10 for that one.

Bill: Gee, thanks! Anyway, um … D’you mind if I tell ‘em, Dippy? You’re sure it’s okay? [pretending to get bashful] So, um … Dippy used to have a crush on my big sis, Wendy. And ‘cause she works at the Shack, they’d be, like, hanging out together a lot. He even came over to the house a few times. And, um, naturally I had a crush on him from the get go, ‘cause just look at him! Who wouldn’t?

Dipper, blushing: Ah, jeez …

Ms. Pines: D’awww!

Mr. Pines, grudgingly: D’awww …

Bill, making himself grin and blush wholesomely: So I started coming along to hang out. Then, before I knew it, it was just us hanging out alone together. And we were exploring the woods one day when we found some wild mistletoe—golly, I told him, “That’s wild mistletoe. That’s what it looks like in the wild.” and then he said … No, he stepped under it first, then he said, “Guess we gotta kiss now.”—and so we kissed.

Mr. Pines, slapping his son on the back: You sly, little dog!

Bill: And I was like, “Gee, that was swell!” Can you believe it?! Real lame-o line to follow a first kiss, right? And he was like, “We could do it again, if you want.” And I said, “But, gosh, we’re not even dating! Everyone’ll think I’m a boy-floozy!”

Ms. Pines: HA! Oh, that’s precious!

Bill, giggling: Y-yes, ma’am! It was! And then Dippy, he said, “Well, be my boyfriend. We’ll start calling our hang-outs dates, and I’ll fight anyone who calls you a floozy.” It was soooo chivalrous!

Dipper, beet red and with his hands in his face: Stahp …

*a while later, after the parents have left*

Dipper, relieved: That … That went a lot better than expected. And they sure loved Willy Corduroy.

Bill, self-assuredly: Natch. I’m inescapably charming, no matter the alias. [pulls out cotton balls and tosses them in the trash] If you ever call me Willy, though, I will shank one of your stuffed animals. That was me takin’ one for the team. Which is us, by the way. The team is us.

Dipper: Heh! Yeah, I gathered that.

Bill: Still, I’m surprised they never asked about my eyes …

Dipper: Oh, I “warned” them in advance. Told them you had a medical condition, and that you were really sensitive about it.

Bill: Good thinking. You’re so smart. And handsome. And sexy.

Dipper, grinning: Stahp!

Bill, grinning back: Nope. Never. Because I love you.

Dipper: Hehehe! I love you, too … Willy!

#little monsters au #billdip #bipdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #gravity falls au #writing #fanfiction #meet the parents #here it is bois #submission

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luikapu · 5 years

Text

VALENTINE’S DATE → LUBY

TAGGING → Baby Charming (@aybaby) & Lui Kapu

TIMELINE → Saturday, February 16th, 2019

SETTING → Valentine’s Ball

SUMMARY → So anyway here’s what we wrote before we got bored and/or distracted...

Lui was pretty stoked about this whole Valentine's Day thing, and he hoped that Baby was, too. After he'd gotten dumped for being a cheating douchebag in high school, he'd taken ages and ages to get back into the dating game, but after getting dumped last summer when he'd been nothing but an awesome boyfriend? He had a totally different attitude towards it, and he was glad that he'd found someone as cool as Baby at the exact right time in his life. He wasn't sure if she saw tonight as like a real date, but Lui did, and he hoped that by the end of the evening he was on the same page. "How do I look?" Lui asked her with a wink, showing off his hairy, barely-covered legs underneath the ridiculous black french maid dress, as promised. "Do you think Melody Triton's going to buy that these cleaning supplies are actually cleaning supplies or not?"

Baby didn't really know what her situation with Lui really was outside of like flirting, making plans to do things in France together and their hook up on New Year's, but she really liked him a lot and was super eager to impress him in the hopes that maybe he'd think of her in a way that was a little something more...romantic than the posse of girl best friends he was also probably hooking up with. "Super hot. If you were my maid, I'd tip you so good." Baby giggled, looking Lui up and down appreciatively. "What about me?" She asked, posing in her little pink Hugh Hefner inspired smoking jacket that only just slightly covered up a lacy black bralette and tight pencil skirt, her sexy interpretation of the kind of person that would hire someone in a sexy French maid uniform. "I think so! But I don't know, she might be suspicious because...she just is. So if I see her coming your way, I'll just run up to her and think of some story to send her somewhere else. You think Ren'll be pissed if I keep sending her her way or should I pick one of their cousins?"

Lui was having a hard time remembering to look at Baby's face instead of just her body. The outfit that she had on was pretty incredible, both because of how it made her look and because of how fun it was. Lui's last girlfriend had been nice, but she'd taken herself kind of seriously sometimes. Hanging out with Baby made him laugh; she was full of surprises, her costume tonight included. "You look so hot that it makes me look like Wallace Shawn or something in comparison," he told her with a grin, looping an arm around her waist to keep his date close to him. Sure, he had friends that he should go and say hi to at some point, but he knew that he didn't want to lose track of Baby at the dance. "And because I'm me. Playing pranks at dances and stuff kind of used to be my M.O." He snorted at the idea of setting Melody on Ren, but decided he'd let his housemate have a night of fun. "Nah, what about the slutty yoga cousin? I bet we could come up with all sorts of great lies about trouble she's causing."

Baby felt her face warm up at the compliment but scrunched her nose up in thought for a moment. "Wallace Shawn? Really? No one even slightly more bangable like Danny Devito?" She snickered, hoping that he understood that she was 100% joking about finding Danny Devito being bangable. "Oh, then that too I guess! Why'd you give up on pulling pranks at dances? Was it the neutering thing you said Gwen made fun of you for?" Baby asked, lowkey wondering if her encouragement of the maid uniform and boozy fake cleaning supplies meant she had the opposite impact on him as his last girlfriend and she'd be someone's his friends would approve of. "Oh my gosh! She'd be a great one! We could say we overheard her talking about releasing her goats into the dance or planning an orgy since there's so many pretty people around!"

Lui clutched a hand to his heart, like he was wounded by Baby's words. "No way, Wallace is way more bangable than Danny! Those tufts he's got growing on the side of his head are a no go for me," Lui teased, sure Baby realized that he'd most definitely never bang either one of the men in question, either. Or any man, probably, although Lui didn't like to rule things out; he'd try just about anything once. "Huh, I dunno," Lui admitted, trying not to get too pensive about it. He liked that things were so light and fun with Baby; he felt like she kind of got the stuff underneath, even without him having to say it. "I guess I just kind of grew up a little? I still like to have a good time, but like... passing the torch to the younger tricksters and stuff, you know? Give them their chance to shine." He snickered at Baby's agreement, reaching out his hand to lead her onto the dance floor, where everyone was sure to stare at how awesome they looked. "Although you know... it would be pretty cool if there were actual goats here, we could always try a prank for old time's sakes and blame Aubrey or Audrey or whatever her name is for it..."

Baby rolled her eyes and pulled Lui's hand away from his chest, oh so sneakily not letting it go for a minute longer than necessary. "You do know what Wallace Shawn looks like, right? He's got the exact same tufts on the side of his head as Danny! Besides, they're super old and a girl needs something to hold onto and a wrinkly scalp just ain't it." She wrinkled her nose at the visual but laughed again anyway. Baby listened to Lui talk as led the way. She couldn't exactly relate since she'd never pulled a prank bigger than a shock pen in her whole life, but she could still understand what he meant. "I think people are really taking advantage of the chance you're giving them then. Last year's prom got stink bombed pretty bad and then I think I heard this year's homecoming queen had a Janet Jackson moment? I'm sure your pranks are way cooler though." Baby reached up and looped her arms around Lui's neck once they made it to the dance floor and sort of frowned at his idea, more out doubt in herself than at Lui. "That would be so so so much fun but I dunno? I've never really pulled a prank before and wouldn't our outfits just attract attention? Well, even more attention anyway."

Lui scoffed, trying not to reveal just how much he wanted to laugh at Baby's accusation. He narrowly bit back his smile, saying, "How dare you doubt me! I'm going to wear a Wallace Shaun mask on our next date just to prove I know what I'm talking about. I know everything ." Like he knew that Baby hadn't let go of his hand, and he knew that a year and a half ago, he never would have dreamed of mentioning dates in seriousness, much less alluding to future ones. And he knew that he had said that on purpose, just to gauge if she was into the idea or not. He knew that this night had barely begun, but it was already the best time Lui had had in a while, and he hoped Baby was amenable to the very not subtle hint that he wanted to do it again. "And yeah, I'd like to think I'm more epic than that. I've had bubbles coming out of flushing toilets, lots of punch that's actually spiked with good shit and not like, Krat, an invasion of toy cars that have condom baskets attached for everyone... You know, harmless but hilarious. It's always ind of been my thing." Lui shrugged as best he could while still keeping his arms around Baby; he didn't even know where to find goats right now, but even if he didn, he wasn't in a hurry to leave, even if he did get to leave with her. "Oh well, guess we'll just have to goat-ify the next dance instead, then. Think of something more lowkey for tonight."

Baby bit her lip to hold back the world's biggest grin when Lui threatened her with a weird mask on their next date. Baby absolutely could not believe her luck! They weren't even that far into this date and he already wanted to spend more time with her. "Alright, then I'll wear a Danny Devito mask on our next date and I'll prove that you know everything, but that." Even though Baby had known all about Lui's reputation and some of his pranks well before they'd ever started hanging out, hearing him recount some of his greatest hits was super super attractive and a little bit intimidating. Especially when he put the ball in her court and suggested that she think of a lowkey prank for the night. The closest Baby had ever come to pulling a prank, was switching around all of the little outfits on her family's little mouse friends once when she was twelve. And even that hadn't been much of a prank since before Cinderella had even gotten a chance to see it, Baby had been filled with guilt and cried while switching all the tiny shirts and hats right back. "Oh gosh..I don't know. Maybe we should do something with the fake cleaning supplies we brought?"

Lui snorted at the idea of Baby dressed as Danny Devito, and almost said something about how he'd never imagined Danny and Wallace hooking up before but now it was all he could think about. He didn't, though; Baby was cool, and he didn't want her to think he was only interested in sex or whatever. That was the old Lui; now, he was trying to find some balance between like, the Old Old Lui from freshman year, who had been a kind of decent guy, and the newer Luis who liked to have fun and stuff but still wanted people to know when they were actually special. Most of all, he wanted to be special back, and Lui hoped that if tonight went well maybe he'd be special back to Baby. Or maybe he already was and he just couldn't be sure yet... "Okay, that would be hilarious. We could go up and spray it in people's faces and then start pretending that we have to call the hospital because we don't know how fast they're gonna get poisoned, or we could stage a really dramatic fight between us where we spray each other with it and put on a show and pretend to hate each other, or hmm..." Lui arched his eyebrows, wiggling them thoughtfully. "Or we could go find actual cleaning supplies, peel the labels off, and start sticking them on random people who are just minding their own business dancing."

#✦event: valentine's ball 2k19 #para #para:baby #baby

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forestwater87 · 6 years

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Brovid Week 4

If you’re curious about my other @brovidweek entries, you can find one, two, and three here!

Rivalry

Gwen claimed David was too invested in this rivalry, but was it really a rivalry if none of the other people involved knew it was?

Besides, it wasn’t like David had any ill will toward Max’s sister. In fact, he’d been delighted to hear that the two of them had moved to the same city he and Gwen lived in! Of course, the circumstances were tragic; no child should have to lose their parents at such a young age. But David had lost track of most of his campers after they’d aged out of the camp -- except for Nikki, but she was a born counselor with nature in her blood -- and he’d worried about Max in particular. He’d always been especially curious what kind of family a kid like that would have, and when the opportunity came to get to know them both a little better, he was more than happy to take it.

Kayla Sahni was just two years younger than David, and the resemblance to her little brother was really uncanny. She was shorter than both himself and Gwen, but that was taller than Max was ever likely to grow, and she had a strong, stocky build instead of his perpetual lankiness. But they had the same eyes, and more than once he’d been struck with the impression that he was looking at a future version of Max. It only ever lasted for a second; Kayla had a perpetual brightness that Max lacked -- or perhaps was missing the pessimism that darkened Max’s edges. She laughed and cried easily, while her little brother did neither, and had a hummingbird-like tendency to pick up and drop passions as they caught or lost her interest. In comparison, the dour little teenager his most troublesome camper had grown into was steady (and immovable) as a rock.

It was this last thing that stuck with David, that needled at him with little pricks of irritation. Because Max really didn’t need any more unreliable people in his life.

“Hello, Max,” he said, carefully measuring the cheer in his tone. It was inappropriate to act too cheerful in this situation, at three in the morning in a police station, but he didn’t want to come across as too stern. As Gwen had reminded him more than a few times, it wasn’t his place. He wasn’t Max’s legal guardian, he wasn’t an older brother. He was just a former camp counselor (and technically his Facebook friend, not that kids were really using the site anymore) who was sometimes called upon --

He grunted, sliding into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. “Yeah,” he muttered, in response to nothing, and turned to look out the window. His sweatshirt was streaked with neon paint.

-- called upon to provide bail and a ride home, when Max got himself into trouble and his sister was nowhere to be found.

“Gwen says hi,” David continued, trying to keep the silence from spiraling. “And that she hopes you’re doing well.”

Max snorted. “Bullshit. She probably said something like if I wake her up in the middle of the night again, she’ll light my hair on fire.”

That . . . was in fact a little closer to the truth, but Max didn’t need to hear that. His wife was not exactly a morning person. “So how’s your big sister?” he asked instead, as nonchalantly as he could.

“I dunno. Her phone must be dead and she hasn’t been around for a couple days.” He shrugged, leaning his seat back and propping his feet up on the dashboard. (David resisted the urge to tell him how dangerous that was and just focused on driving extra carefully.) “Probably doing something stupid and dangerous, like usual. Fucking idiot.” The warmth in his tone made him smile, but it still tugged at his heart that Max was so often left by himself.

Especially after what happened to his parents, shouldn’t he be surrounded by his family?

“Max, if you ever need to talk to someone, you know I --”

He was interrupted by the almost-imperceptible vibrations of Max’s phone. He jumped slightly and tugged it out of his pocket, the screen lighting his skin a sickly white-yellow. “Kay? Where the hell are you?” he demanded, a huge grin spreading across his face as he bolted upright. “I got arrested again!”

Despite his disapproval, David struggled not to smile. It was just so rare to see Max enthusiastic about anything. It made him seem his age, instead of someone so much older and more jaded.

“Yeah, I was painting shit on the city hall for the protest tomorrow. You’re gonna be there, right?” There was a moment of silence. “Oh, yeah. Nah, that makes sense. I probably won’t go either. What’s the point, right? Not like it’s gonna do anything.” Another quiet moment. “You would? Really? Huh . . . I mean, I might show up for a little bit. If I don’t find something better to do.” He groaned, flopping back in his seat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m studying. God, you’re almost as bad as David and Gwen.”

David really didn’t want to interrupt, not when these conversations were so important -- and didn’t happen nearly often enough, in his own personal opinion -- but his exit was coming up so he didn’t have much of a choice. “Um, Max? Are you staying over tonight?” They kept a few pairs of Max’s clothing and an extra toothbrush in their guest bedroom; neither he nor Gwen liked the idea of him sitting home alone for however long Kayla’s frequent “adventures” lasted. Sometimes she was gone for days without so much as a text telling her brother where she was.

Stop being judgmental. They’ve both lost their parents. It hasn’t even been a year yet.

Max glanced up at him, surprised. “Hold on,” he muttered into the phone, then lowered it from his ear. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

He had just a second to enjoy that warm glow -- genuine appreciation! From Max! -- when Max returned his attention to his phone.

“Sorry about that. Nah, just David.”

Just David.

Gwen would tell him he was overreacting. She thought he was way too invested in this silly rivalry, that he had to stop thinking of himself as Max’s older brother or he was just going to get his feelings hurt.

But was it really a rivalry if he didn’t have any chance of winning?

#campcamp #brovid #brovid week #cc david #cc max #is this basically just fanfiction for my other cc fanfic?#um #yes #this might be my last one #it will join gwenvid week in unfinished hell #because man these are tiring #but it was so much fun!

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fluidityandgiggles · 6 years

Text

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 3

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Last Chapter

Notes (I guess): This chapter was a nightmare to write but I’m just so happy I finished it. It also touches some subjects that will come up again in the future, for the sake of letting everyone process the events. I’ve experienced grief and it’s going to take a long time before this particular subject could be discussed again. See yourselves warned.

Again, credit to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for screaming at me to write this, and to @whatwashernameagain for Keep Him Safe, and also a tiny tiny lil bit to @anony-phangirl and @asleepybisexual for their general support and for being such great sports about me annoying them with my ideas… (oops).

(I’m trying to find a way to write my notes, so bear with me until I find a way that will stick. This will do for now.)

(KHS) Tag List (sort of): @em-be-lievable, @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2, @adoratato, @supremestoverlord, @royallyanxious, @madly-handsome, @hanramz-the-fander, @the-incedible-sulk, @poisonedapples, @virge-of-a-breakdown, @winglessnymph, @princeanxious, @smokeyrutilequartz, @im-bad-at-life (if any of you could tag the rest, please do! I’m improving my memory from day to day, but… yeah…)

Tag list: @bunny222, @ab-artist, @secretlyanxiouspersona, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter also includes discussion of two rather tragic (in my opinion) real-life events, and very few mentions of food.

—————

"Today, we're going to do things a bit differently."

Saturday, October 12th, 2002

"Raise your hand if the idea of coming out, even if you're already out, terrifies the living hell out of you."

Almost all hands flew up.

"Raise your hand if you understand the dangers of staying closeted too."

Pretty much everyone took their hands down. Only very few stayed.

"Last week," India said after a long breath, "we lost… the community lost one of our own. We… we lost someone to hate crime." She lowered her hand. Remy was almost in pain, seeing her try to talk about it. She called him last night, asking him if it's not going to be too much for him (and if so, she has another thing planned). "Gwen Araujo was seventeen when she died because she was outed as transgender in a party."

"Wasn't this released, like, two days ago?"

"Yes, and that's why I want to talk to you about this. Just… excuse me. I wrote it all down… it’s kind of a tough subject..."

It took India a minute to settle her voice, and another couple seconds to fumble with some papers. "I'll bet you all remember where you were when the World Trade Center fell in September eleventh last year." The room fell into silence. "I'll also bet none of you remember where you were on new year's eve in 1993."

Remy knew exactly where this was going.

"It could be because you were nine years old, which is the case for some of us, or you were already in bed by ten. I know my parents insisted that I'd go to bed by ten that night for a couple reasons. But on December thirty-first, 1993, we lost another member of the community. His story was turned into an Oscar-winning movie, but l can assure you none of you remember where you were when Brandon Teena was murdered for being born a girl."

The chatter was back. Remy could isolate some of the comments. Not most, just some. And it hurt. The ones he managed to isolate were not good, but one was much louder than the other.

"Can you really compare the murder of thousands to the death of just one person?"

"No I can't. But what you fail to realize here is that I'm not comparing anything here. I'm just trying to bring up a subject—"

"And you're using the tragedy of others to—"

"I lost family in September eleventh. I'm well aware of the tragedy. I'm also aware of the fact that transgender people are killed at ridiculous rates and this is something we should discuss!"

The silence after that was incredibly unbearable. India was close to tears, and Remy… as much as he wanted to go hug her, he couldn't.

It was that painful.

"Today's topic was supposed to be discrimination and hate," Remy heard someone shouting into the air - one of the juniors probably. "We do this conversation every year. Please listen to what the poor girl has to say. She's only volunteering to do this, on top of—"

"That's okay, Chris. I don't need an advocate."

It was going to be a long meeting, and Remy was not looking forward to it.

—

"I'm sorry I didn't speak today."

"You did alright. Sometimes doing nothing is a good thing."

India was incredibly frustrated when they finally got to Kirkland House. Remy insisted on going with her, to make sure that nothing else happened. She called him a gentleman for doing that.

It was sweet of her.

She ranted a bit about a guy who lived on the same floor as her (Jared Kushner or something) who was a dick to her and tried flirting with her girlfriend all the time, she told him that she applied to get a master's degree in forensics at Georgetown after graduation, and then they reached Kirkland House.

"You can get back to Harvard Yard from here, right?"

"Of course. Who do you think I am?"

India kissed his cheek and waved goodbye, and went into Kirkland House. And then Remy was alone. Well, not entirely, he still had to go back to Weld Hall and call his dad, but…

He was alone.

The yard wasn't as crowded as it was earlier and the weather was cooling down considerably, the leaves were changing… Harvard Yard was a beautiful place in the fall, Remy learned quickly enough.

He had very little time to process his thoughts when he was almost tackled to the ground by a tiny blonde kid almost running in the direction of the exit. Aka, the main road.

"How is it that when we're outside of class we keep running into each other in the weirdest ways?"

"That's less weird than how my grandparents met," Emile said, breathless.

"Not what I said, babe."

"No, really! My grandpa was coming back to Amsterdam from London just as my grandma was on her way to London straight out of Auschwitz, and—"

"Can we keep this story for another time?"

"...sure." Emile gave Remy a half-smile. "So… I kinda have to go to Party City. I need to stock up for Halloween."

"Didn't you go there two weeks ago?"

"Yes, but they didn't have this one thing I really needed, and I kinda forgot a couple other things, so they told me they'd call when they got that thing they didn't have, so I'm going to pick it up!" He was… incredibly jumpy today. It was rather endearing. "You wanna come? We can go get pizza."

"What thing are you missing, exactly?"

"A wig! I'm gonna be Kim Possible."

He was so excited… Remy started feeling bad for being this confused.

"...what?"

"Kim Possible! Don't you— you know what, it's okay if you don't know. It only came out in June anyway." The half-smile turned into a full, bright one. He was adorable. "So, you wanna come with me?"

...well, he had nothing better to do for now.

"Sure, sunshine. But I need to get my wallet and phone first."

"Yay! Anyway, so Kim Possible is this show, it's on the Disney Channel but trust me it's not that bad… "

—

Emile was growing on Remy more and more each day. And… he may have started getting interested in Kim Possible after going out for pizza with him. The never ending energy was growing on him in a way. It was impossible not to like his enthusiasm, and…

Yeah, he was starting to grow on Remy.

"So, now, lucky that I'm vegetarian, right?" Emile said as he took his third slice of pizza. "So at least I have some sort of excuse, at least according to my aunt, but we just keep having to explain to them what kosher means and—"

"Are we still talking about your sister, Emile?"

"What?"

"We were talking about your sister and then you started talking about… well…"

"Oh! Yeah, sorry!"

"Please stop apologizing. You're not doing anything wrong."

"Right. Umm… so… Doctor Gilliam suggested I might want to get evaluated at the psych clinic sometime soon," Emile mumbled, straightening his glasses. Slightly more closed off. Making Remy feel real guilty. "I don't… I don't know why, but he said I might want to."

"And you're just gonna take him up on that?"

"Yeah? No? I don't know. I'm only sixteen, honestly, I'm gonna have to talk to my parents about this."

Sixteen?!

"Yeah, I thought I told you!"

...shit. He spoke out loud. Shit.

"I'll be seventeen in December. But… never mind. Do you think I should listen to him? About the evaluation?"

"I have, like… no idea."

The way back to Cambridge was full of even more chatter about everything and nothing, and Remy couldn't put in a word. Not that it mattered anyway. Emile was interesting.

Remy gave his input whenever he could, but he would much rather listen to Emile talk. He had an adorable voice

—

"You didn't call me last week, kiddo. Found yourself a guy?"

"Dad, please…"

"Do you think you're going to take her up on that offer?"

"Dad, daddy, papa, David, any normal person when answering the phone would ask how are you doing. Not if you hooked up with a guy or if you're going to babysit your sisters who you've never met just because your bitch of a woman who birthed you asked you to."

"When have we ever done anything normal, Remy?"

"Well… true. But no, I'm not going to take her up on that offer. I don't really care, to be honest."

"They're your sisters."

"And so is India but you don't see me trying to—"

"You haven't told me much about her, kid."

"Well… she's not doing okay lately. Did you see the news? About that girl in California?"

"Edward Araujo?"

"Gwen."

"Right. Sorry. It's just… the news."

"It's okay. But… India is losing it over this case. And honestly… I get her. It's terrifying to see someone of your kin just…"

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But really, did you hook up with anyone?"

"Nah. Dad, I'm eighteen. I'm not you."

"Hey, your mom got pregnant with you because of this one time when we were seniors when she had an empty house this one week in December and threw away my condoms when I tried to—"

"Dad, that's disgusting and please don't bring this up ever again."

"Got it. But anyway?"

"...there's a guy in my major, his name is Emile—"

"You gonna ask him out?"

"Dad, no! He's sixteen."

"And he's a psychology major?!"

"I asked myself the same question. But yes. He is."

"Well, I mean… he's within the appropriate age range for you. I guess."

"...what is it about I don't want a relationship at this stage of my life didn't you hear?"

"You're eighteen, Remy! One day you're gonna find someone and—"

"That's the thing. I'm eighteen. I have many more years ahead of me."

"Okay. Whatever you say. Any other boys I should know about? Girls, too, if you're into them now?"

"Just… this one guy. His name is Chris, he's a bit older… I don't know. Should I really be talking to you about this? You're my dad!"

"Am I not allowed to be interested in my son's love life anymore?"

"You weren't this interested in it when I was in high school."

A long sigh. "Remy…"

"I know you're worried, Dad. Believe me, I do. But I'm doing just fine! Rashida has dance parties every Wednesday for some reason so we bond over that, Lucy is basically just my map to going everywhere, we haven't hung out that much, Sammy is being a cutie all the time and Katherine is obsessed with everything. She really likes Emile's bunny for some reason and keeps talking about how her niece and nephew would absolutely love it. Her niece is two years old! I just…"

"Sounds to me like you're making friends."

"Well… yesterday I went with Emile to Party City. I don't know what I'm doing for Halloween this year, but…"

"What was that you just said?"

"If all goes right, I'll be Jack Skellington. But I don't have a backup."

"What would you need a backup for? You'll do great!"

"So, how's your girlfriend?"

"Eh, I don't know. Elaine isn't… that… you know."

"I'm sure she's absolutely lovely."

"Yeah, so was I. Can't wait for you to meet her."

"Can't wait either."

"...are you sure you don't want to babysit Linda's girls?"

"Dad!"

"Just asking!"

#kylo cant write #sanders sides #remy/sleep #emile picani #keep him safe #sleep is for the weak #the remy centric prequel #tw: period appropriate transphobia #tw: food mention #tw: mentions of (real life) murder

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lapeaudelamemoire · 7 years

Text

I used to call the kid the love of my life. He came by this week and stayed. Things I have learned out of life: There is time to be dramatic and then when that time passes, you stop. Say something once and leave it; the line has always been take it or leave it. No one appreciates a haggler. I'm thinking of Eartha Kitt on compromise. I was - he wasn't quite - so dramatic back then. I remember tides and hellfires. We don't talk about that any more. Just a passing reference here and there, and we're like the Gwen Stefani song, Cool. It's been gone over so many times it would just be flogging a very, very dead horse if not. How long have we done this? 8 years. Dropping in and dropping back out and always hovering at the gates; sometimes one of us flits away. You know overkill? When you keep at it even when the other person's said something a million times before, and he covers my mouth when I retrack old tracks and says 'Nah - you've said that one before,' and that's fair. Says that's the only time he gets bored of me talking. Someone's been saying the same thing for 9 months now, the baby's fucking stagnant, gonna come out stillborn. I'm hella bored. Sometimes people just don't change fast enough - but we're the only things we can change for sure. Spun around tiredly in the shower yesterday realising I'm gonna have to do it again - build a new me, start all over again - before, it was gathering up the pieces of myself as I knew myself to be; now, catching up with time, seeing that I'll have to make something new of myself again, to keep up with what is now. I've made the outline out again, now I gotta grow out of the lines because I can't just stay still; need to acknowledge that was then, need a new fit me for what comes now. This endless reinvention, readjustment, recalibration. This is something else now. I'm wondering about what the use of conversation logs are. So many things have gotten lost in the loss of phones, of accounts, of whatevers. I remember saving conversation logs with the boy back in the days when we had Msn. They've gone now; and losing data or a laptop or a phone - some things I miss, most things I don't. But the things we want to keep don't need tangibilities, sometimes. I never look at the old photos. Most things, they're just filler. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with all this data. All the souvenirs off Europe last year scattered in my bedroom. I don't need them any more. Everything is inside myself. Someone beat the dead horse one too many times and I'm tired of not getting good sleep. Nightmare last night in which someone died. Why am I giving this person special treatment? Well, I wanted to try something else for a change - and now I have, and now the conversation's in mute air I can't get to, and I don't need the same record five times over. I didn't want a rehash of the drama with T. I just wanted to know if someone was ever going to be that important again. That's it, then. New everything. I got too serious about everything again. There's T's silly smile so amused at a 3-minute long video meme and so unembarrassed and so unashamed and pleased, even, when I look at him in half real and half false mock horror. There's that memory of E sitting almost dazed in my living room in Oslo watching, in his words, 'stupid/mindless cat videos' because he'd taken too much something and hearing him laugh at nothing. It says Lightly child, lightly, on my torso, and if I can't take my own mental advice, maybe then the written advice on my skin. There was a time T used to make me jump and quiver with a message or an email with one line - now we pile into bed next to each other and turn over to sleep on our sides just because we sleep better that way, and if we touch it makes no difference, and if we don't it makes no difference, and I say, we've mellowed out, haven't we, we two old-timers at each other, and he says yes, and I know this is how it goes, and this sharp wine that keeps staring at the dead horse, but it's just a dead horse, so I walk away when I get tired of hearing 'It's a dead horse'. Hands free. There are only so many variables: The people, the relationship, the situation. Take what you want and toss the rest. Don't complain. Leave your goddamn skin on the ground.

#personal

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forestwater87 · 6 years

Note

(whispers seductively) Talk to me about a high school Gwenvid AU

OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY

So I was initially saving this to talk all about how in high school David was the sunny B-student who founded Nature Club and was friends almost exclusively with girls because guys treated him kinda badly, and how Gwen was the high-schooler-pretending-she-likes-coffee straight-A-but-not-valedictorian student who was in virtually all the clubs – especially yearbook, definitely yearbook – but didn’t really have any friends, and how maybe they met because they were the only ones willing to do some shit task for the school (her because it’d look good on her applications, him out of an overwhelming desire to help out) and are forced to hang out and grow closer and fall in love and all that doofy stuff.

And I do still love all of that.

But.

BUT.

Then my discord starting talking about a version of teenage David (heavily based on this picture) where he went through a punk phase, and … my fingers slipped, guys.

(Parts of this were heavily influenced by chats with @ciphernetics. And I think calling Cute Waitress Clementine was originally the invention of @mysterysmiley, but I’m not entirely positive? I just know I didn’t come up with it and I’m happy to credit whoever did. Oh, and this characterization of Jasper is, of course, largely the creation of the marvelous @hopefullypessimistic84)

Hufflepunk

Being unconditionally polite, kind, and compassionate in a society that values and finds “deeper meaning” in aloofness and cynicism is subversive and thus punk

“Christ.” Gwen checks her watch and stands up on the balls of her feet, rolling her neck to loosen the tension in her shoulders. She’s positive Fred had told her the Crafts Club meets at 4:30 … has she gotten the location wrong?

Five minutes, she tells herself, glancing around the empty classroom as though people will spontaneously burst up from the tiled floor. She still has to get a couple pictures of lacrosse practice before the high school talent show begins — she wishes she hadn’t volunteered to cover the event, but she owes the head of the school newspaper a favor — and somewhere in there she’s supposed to fit five pages of extra-credit math homework!

She doesn’t have time to hang around.

Worst-case scenario, we just pretend there isn’t a Crafts Club. Not like anyone’s going to complain. Nobody she knows is in it, and Gwen knows almost everyone (not well, but she doesn’t have time to know people well. “Getting to know people” isn’t something she’s ever been very good at, anyway).

She’s just about to leave the stifling-silent classroom when the door flies open, smacking into the wall and bouncing off of it with a noise that makes her flinch. She sees boots, heavy and industrial and grass-stained, then immediately ducks her head and pretends to be deeply engrossed in her phone. Like someone who has a personal life or something.

“Y’know, one’a these days you’re gonna give someone a concussion doing that.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! No one stands that close to a door that swings in!” The second voice is light, laughing — vaguely familiar in a way she can’t place.

“It’s your funeral, string bean. But don’t expect Bonquisha to bail you out if you tick off someone bigger than you.”

There’s a snort, loud and (she suspects) intentionally disgusting. “So, everyone.”

“I don’t think that’s — um.” The footsteps stop suddenly, as do the voices. “Are we in the right room?”

Figuring she can’t pretend to text any longer, Gwen glances up with an expression she hopes reads “polite disinterest” and fears comes off more like “suffering from minor digestive discomfort.” She holds up the camera looped around her neck, wishing — not for the first time — that they were just allowed to use their phones instead of the crappy Kodaks provided by the school. “Uh, hi. I’m —”

RAPRAPRAP.

They all glance over at the window, one of the students, a boy with a red hoodie that hides most of his face, rushing over to open it and let a brightly-colored teenager vault inside.

“— from the … yearbook committee.” She’s more than a little thrown off by the commotion, but tries to pull herself together. “We’re going around —”

“The classrooms have doors, genius,” the guy in the hoodie says, slamming the window shut. “New thing they’re trying out these days.”

“Where’s the fun in that? The flair?”

“— taking photos of all the clubs —”

“You and your goddamn flair, Jesus.”

“— for the, you know … yearbook.” She keeps her attention focused on the only one who’s addressed her so far, the one she recognizes now from one of her science classes. Something with a D … “You guys are the Crafts Club?”

(She tries to keep the disbelief out of her voice.)

(She’s pretty sure she fails.)

“Well …” D-something glances at his friends — the hoodie boy, with green-rimmed eyes and artful stubble that must’ve taken weeks; the one with flair, who is dressed in and pierced with and dyed so many colors he’s almost hard to look at; and the only girl, someone she remembers being slightly terrified of in gym a few years ago because she throws like she’s trying to set the air on fire — and turns back to her with a shrug and a bashful grin, as if he knows how ridiculous they look together. “Yeah! That’s us.”

Sure.

Why the hell not?

“You’re Gwen, right? Gwen Santos?” He watches with patient interest as she nods, then steps forward, extending a hand (shaking up the sleeve of his jacket, which hangs from his skinny frame). “We’re in Chemistry together, but you probably don’t remember me! She usually sits in the front,” he adds to the others, like that explains everything. “I’m David.”

David, right.

David with the short red mohawk and the little rings marching up the shell of his ear and the spiked leather jackets and the tight black jeans and the giant, grass-stained, door-kicking-in boots that must weigh half as much as he does. David with the insightful questions and the eager-to-help attitude and the tendency to make things explode and no one can tell if it’s an accident or not. David, who was forced to sit in the front for three days for fiddling with the lab equipment before the teacher got tired of his ceaseless humming and banished him to the back of the room again.

Gwen takes his hand, feeling a little like she’s dreaming. There’s a greyscale rose on his hand, beautiful and intricate. “Is this real?” she asks, twisting his hand to watch the thorny stem snake around his wrist.

David tugs his hand away with an embarrassed chuckle. “No, I can’t afford that,” he says, glancing over his shoulder and jerking his chin toward the kid with the neon clothes. “Jasper’s a great artist, though!”

Jasper tilts his head at them, blue-tipped blond waves falling over his eyes, and gives her a lopsided grin. “All you need is a long study hall and a lot of boredom,” he says with a shrug. “And you can’t mind getting absolutely fucked up on Sharpie fumes.”

The girl — Bonquisha, that’s right — sets her backpack down and flicks one of Jasper’s shoes (the pink one. The other is a completely different style, Converse instead of a black knee-high heeled boot (how does he walk?) with bright orange laces). “Like anyone thinks you mind that, Ghost.”

“Ghost?” Gwen knows she really should just shut up and take the pictures, because even if her schedule wasn’t beyond full there’s no way she’s hanging out voluntarily with these guys and risk coming home reeking of smoke, but … she’s curious.

Fuck it, isn’t that a good enough reason?

“Because I’m a ninja,” he intones, leaning forward eagerly. “So sneaky I can —” he snaps, then wiggles his fingers, “— vanish into thin air.”

She frowns. “So … why don’t they call you Ninja?”

Jasper pauses, looking thoughtful, but the one in the hoodie jumps in before he can answer: “Because he’s a clumsy idiot who should’ve died, like, twenty times before we started high school. We think he has to already be dead to —”

“To pull off those sick stunts?” Jasper says this with a bright, cheesy grin; instead of finishing his sentence, the other kid drops his head in one hand and sighs deeply. “Come on, Kev; you don’t like my sweet, radical Parkour moves?”

“I don’t like you.”

“Come on, guys, be nice,” David pleads, shoving his hands in his back pockets and rocking onto his heels. “We have company.”

We have company — like they’re a family and she’s some sort of special guest. Gwen bites her lip to keep from smiling and fiddles with her lens cap.

“So I guess there’s no field trip today, huh?” Bonquisha says, glancing over at Gwen before giving David a meaningful look.

“Oh, I don’t know about that! We’ll just have to see. It’s fine, though,” he adds with a hasty look at Gwen, like he’s nervous he hurt her feelings, “we have tons of stuff we can work on here!” He fumbles in his bag, then looks up questioningly. “So should we pose, or are you just …”

She nods, snapping back to herself. “Uh … nah, just do your thing and I’ll take a couple photos. Then I’ll leave you guys alone.” As they all pull out varying-sized knitting needles and colorful yarn, she takes a couple steps back, trying to figure out where the cheap fluorescent lighting is best. “Where’s your faculty advisor?” she asks.

Kevin and Jasper both groan and roll their eyes, but David glows, straightening up. “Oh, Mr. Campbell! He’s … busy, lately, and hasn’t had a ton of time to stop by for our meetings.”

“Which is why we picked him,” Kevin mutters under his breath, ignoring the reproving frown David shoots his way.

“But he’s very supportive of our crafts, and I make sure to email him pictures of our projects!”

Mr. Campbell was technically the superintendent of the school, but he was usually off doing … who knew? Superintendent stuff, probably. Gwen is faintly impressed that they managed to nail the support of someone so important; it’s probably why they can get away with meeting after the school closes, without supervision, to … knit.

Apparently.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, half to make conversation and half out of genuine curiosity. She circles to take a few more pictures, lingering in a spot where David’s earrings flash bright under the ceiling lights and Bonquisha’s hair — the side that isn’t shaved, that is, and falls in long dark dreads interwoven with red sparkling tinsel — catches the setting sun.

The club members are each so captivating, it’s hard to remember she’s actually supposed to be photographing what they’re doing.

David holds his up for her to see: a complex tangle of braided pink, blue, and purple yarn. “We’re making beards! Well — most of us are.”

“Fuck you, I wanna make Cthulhu,” Jasper muttered, twining yellow thread around his crochet hook. Other tentacles in pastel colors fall in a general beard shape, spread across his lap.

None of the beards are actually beard-colored; she thinks of questioning it, but decides not to. After all, it’s not like any of them have natural-colored hair anyway. “What for?”

“Just for fun!” David chirps quickly.

“No reason,” Jasper adds at the same time.

“Fake IDs,” Kevin says, talking over the others.

They’re all quiet for a moment. “So … like a costume?” Gwen finally asks.

“Yes! Halloween!” “For Comic-Con.” “To buy booze.”

Bonquisha rolls her eyes and keeps knitting. “They’re decorations.”

Gwen falls silent, watching them work. The colors — remind her of something, she doesn’t know what. David’s epic beard that reminds her of Lord of the Rings; Jasper’s in pale shades of yellow, pink, and blue; Kevin’s looks like every color of the rainbow, and Bonquisha’s alternates between light blue, pink, and white.

Four beards … “Oh my god, are you’re gonna put these on those new statues?” Sleepy Peak, in a rousing act of patriotism, had installed four giant gold-looking statues in front of the Town Hall that represented the founding fathers of the town. In a completely-unrelated act of equal patriotism, the city also recently voted not to pass a bill prohibiting employer discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity. “They’re gonna get taken down.”

David’s blushing pinker than the yarn twined around his fingers, but he gives her a cheeky smile. “Not before people take pictures.”

“It’s more about the statement,” Jasper says, reaching for the pink ball of yarn. “Davey’s all about making statements.”

“Your statements are gonna get moldy.”

Kevin grins up at Gwen. “I thought we should just drive Bon’s truck into the ugly fucking things, but they voted me down.”

“Not me,” Jasper says, raising one hand without looking up. “I was all for it.”

Bonquisha glares at them both. “I’m not paying for that shit!”

“Your car’s practically a monster truck, it’d be fine!”

David watches his friends argue with a small, slightly tired smile, then turns back to Gwen. She takes a seat at the desk next to him and asks, “So, why don’t you? Do more … destructive shit, I mean. Something that’ll last longer than a couple days.”

“Oh god,” Jasper moans dramatically, abandoning his conversation with Bon and Kevin. “I know you’re new, but one rule? Please, please don’t get him started. Ever. On anything.”

“Hey, it’s an excellent question!” David protests, and if he was standing she has the distinct impression his hands would be on his hips. “Most people don’t understand the difference between anarchy and —”

He’s drowned out by a chorus of groans and gives up, shaking his head and returning to his knitting.

“It’s about inspiring thought, not fear,” he murmurs. “Mindless violence doesn’t do anyone any good.” She has the impression he wants to say more and is deliberately holding his tongue.

“No kidding?” Sometime, she thinks, she’d like to hear more about his philosophy. It’s interesting.

“So we’re all finished over here,” Kevin says loudly, jolting David and Gwen from their conversation. “If you guys are finally done flirting, can we go on a field trip?”

Flushing, he ties off the end of his beard and shoves it and his knitting supplies back into his bag. “You’re so immature,” he hisses, which makes the others snicker.

(Gwen bites back her own laughter; for a kid in chains and spikes, David’s … kind of a grandma.)

“What’s the field trip?” she asks, and then immediately wishes she could kick herself, because that sounds like she’s inviting herself along, which of course she doesn’t want to do — she’s already late to photograph the lacrosse team and there’s no way she can miss the talent show tonight, not to mention that she really doesn’t need to get in trouble and these guys have trouble written all over them (a gentle, kind of ill-thought-out sort of trouble, but trouble nonetheless) — and of course they wouldn’t want her along — she’s awkward and unlikable and she makes people feel uncomfortable, she knows that, with her weird questions and her infrequent eye contact and her inability to know whether she’s talking too much or too little but it’s never the right amount or about the right things so how could she just force herself into their —

“First we gotta water our graffiti, then we’ll hit the bleachers.” When she just stares at him in baffled silence, Kevin rolls his eyes and gestures for her to follow them. “Come on, but put the camera away. This won’t look good in the yearbook.”

She pauses — was she really being invited along? Did she even want to be? — and Bonquisha wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Do you ever smile, Gwen? Or is this whole gloomy-girl thing part of your look?”

She isn’t sure if she should be insulted, but there’s a kind a snarky amiability these people all share that’s … much more comfortable than any type of friendship she’s tried to fit herself into before. “I don’t … really have a look,” she admits, letting herself be pulled down the hallway toward the school’s back doors.

Bon hums thoughtfully. “No kidding. Eh, whatever,” she squeezes Gwen’s shoulders, “neither does Kevin, and we still let him hang around.”

“I have a great look!”

“‘Hey kids, wanna buy some shit?’ isn’t a look, Kev.”

“It’s better than yours, Jasp!”

For the first time since she met the Crafts Club — for the first time in far longer, if she’s being honest — Gwen allows herself to laugh.

It feels pretty good.

“So every few days we just —” David spritzes wall with his water bottle, beaming, “— and sometimes on weekends I come by to paint over the design!”

Gwen eyes the wall skeptically; so far there’s no sign of the moss they assure her has been painted onto the school’s sullen red brick in the words “campe diem” (which she doesn’t think is real Latin). “And it’s actually gonna work?”

“Oh, sure,” Jasper says, nodding sagely. “One-hundred-percent success rate, just like all DIY projects from the internet.”

“Dave has a green thumb,” Bonquisha assures her. “I think he’ll make it work.”

Jasper leans into David, bumping shoulders and waggling his eyebrows. “Got more than a green thumb, if ya know what I’m saying.”

There’s a moment of confused silence. “So … like, an STD?” Kevin finally says. “Or like, he was bitten by a radioactive broccoli on the dick and —”

“Okay!” David snaps pointedly, not-very-gently shoving Kevin’s backpack. “Let’s go to the bleachers right now!”

“What happens at the bleachers?” Gwen asks, feeling very innocent and very stupid with every question.

David’s expression switches from exasperated to sunny in a second. “Oh, right! Well, we can’t decorate the statues until later tonight. And Kevin has … another job. So we’re killing some time.”

“Yeah, speaking of,” Kevin interrupts, turning to Gwen, “got any cash on you? Because this shit ain’t cheap.”

David rolls his eyes. “Nice tact.”

“Hey, you guys n’ gals don’t love me for my tact.”

“I’ll cover her, don’t worry about it.” He grins at her. “And Jasper’s the DD tonight —”

“And just fucking thrilled about it.”

“— so you don’t have to worry about anyone driving while impaired!”

Gwen’s heard stories about the idiots who get stoned under the bleachers. She just never thought she’d be quite so tempted to be one of those idiots. “I …” she begins, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I promised I’d —”

David jumps in, waving his hands almost frantically. “No, of course not! Don’t worry — of course you don’t want — that’s not like the only thing we do, so if you wanted … another time, maybe … or you and I and Jasper could maybe go for a walk or —”

“No, seriously, I have to …” She trails off, spotting a familiar pink ponytail in the throng of students lazily milling around the track. “Hold on.” Sprinting up to Clementine, Gwen grabs her shoulder a little rougher than intended. (Why was she so damn bad at this?) “Hey, you going to the talent show tonight?”

Clementine beams. “Sure am! You’ll be there, right?”

“Actually …” Gwen bites her lip and takes a deep breath. “Any chance I could get you to take some pictures for the newspaper? Just like, two or three, please, something came up.” She holds up the camera and tries to smile as winningly as possible.

She tilts her head to the side, pretty green eyes narrowing doubtfully. “I’m not sure, darlin. You know I’d love to help, but I’m no photographer.”

“You kinda owe me, Clem.” Gwen hates pulling these strings, but basically everyone in every school club owes her something for something; she’s the unofficial go-to girl when anyone needs a quick replacement. (It’s not like she’s ever busy — most of the time.) “Besides, it’ll be like a fun thing for you and Fred to do, right?”

Clementine sighs, her expression softening. “Sure, Gwennie.” (Gwen tries not to flinch at the nickname.) “Y’all have a good time with whatever you’re doing, ya hear?” She can tell from Clementine’s tone of voice that she thinks Gwen’s blowing this off for a date.

And … she’s kinda surprised she doesn’t mind her thinking that. “I’ll do my best,” she says, tugging the camera from around her neck and handing it over. “Oh, and can you take some pictures of lacrosse practice while you’re at it okay thanks!”

She takes off before Clementine can answer, eyes scanning the schoolyard for her flock of showy birds.

Okay, not hers. She doesn’t have any claim to them.

But she wonders if, maybe, they’ll eventually want to make a claim to her.

“So,” Jasper says conversationally, in the tone that David knows means trouble, “didn’t occur to you that maybe one of the most notoriously straightlaced kids in the school might not be super into our devious ganja lifestyle, huh?”

“She said she’ll be back,” David mutters; she hadn’t exactly said that, but what else would “hold on” mean? What were they holding on for, anyway?

They’re quiet for a moment, letting Bon and Kevin wander over to another group of people. David thinks for a second that Jasper might for once let something go.

“You’ve been in love with her for months and you seriously never thought she doesn’t smoke? Not even once?”

“Shhhh!” He shoves Jasper’s shoulder, looking around to make sure no one heard. “Stop it!”

Jasper snickers, shaking his head. “She sits in the front of the classroom, Davey.”

Like David doesn’t know that. Like he hasn’t spent the entire school year carefully memorizing the back of her head, and wondering what kind of thoughts lived inside it. “She laughed,” he says miserably, drawing in on himself. “She asked questions.”

His expression softens, and he shifts a little closer. “I know. And I bet she’ll be back in a couple minutes.” Keeping his eyes turned toward Bonquisha and Kevin, Jasper lets his fingers brush the backs of David’s lightly, almost catching his hand but not quite.

David tries not to blush and feels his face heat up anyway. “There are people here,” he whines, hating fact that he’s whining. “We’ll …” get in trouble sounds ridiculous, but it’s the first thing that pops into his head.

Not that Sleepy Peak is all that bad for his friends, not really. They’ve just — had some issues, before. Issues that required him to be a lot less pacifist than he liked. And it scared him, and it still scares him a little. Not that he can’t take care of himself, they all can, but it’s still … unpleasant.

Jasper gives him a small, bitter smile. “Plus we wouldn’t want the pretty new girl to think we’re a couple fags, huh?”

“Come on, Jasp, it’s not like that.”

(It’s … a little like that. He hates himself for it, but there’s a tiny bit of him that’s worried Gwen might get … the wrong idea, is all. And Jasper’s dirty jokes and little touches and gentle knowing looks are all very suggestive of a wrong idea.)

“If it helps, you’ve got a really shitty poker face, so unless she’s totally oblivious she’s gonna figure out you’re crazy about her anyway.” He gives David a sly grin and lets their hands brush again. “And she saw you holding a giant Viking beard bi flag, so the secret might already be kinda out.”

David shoots him a look that’s supposed to be a lot sterner than it is, but he can’t keep his lips from wanting to twitch upwards. That’s just what happens when he looks at Jasper. “That doesn’t mean anything! Bon made a trans beard, so you can’t assume —”

Jasper interrupts him with a laugh, shaking his head. “Still, if she’s gonna be hanging around, she’s going to learn all your secrets,” he teases, wiggling his fingers ominously. “Like the fact that you’re a filthy criminal who vandalizes public property while high on the devil’s lettuce!”

“She already knows that, Jasp.”

“Oh. Right.” They stand quietly for a few minutes, watching the various sports practices wrap up and the players meander back toward the school. “It worked out all right, Davey. With Bon, I mean. It can work again.”

He shakes his head. He can’t do that again. Yeah, it worked out in the end and the three of them escaped the breakup with their friendship intact, but … “I need someone who likes you, too.”

“And who says she won’t? I’m charming and lovable and have an amazing fashion sense.” When David rolls his eyes — something he can only do without guilt at Jasper — he chuckles and bumps their shoulders together. “Hey, I bagged you.”

“Yeah. You did.” He glances up and sees Gwen hurrying back in their direction; on a sudden, foolish impulse he reaches over and links his fingers through Jasper’s, shifting closer so it’s not immediately visible to anyone people-watching.

He glances down, eyebrows raising. “You sure? You don’t have to.”

“I’m sure.”

He drops his voice as she gets closer, speaking quickly. “If you chicken out, I’ll just mercilessly hit on her.”

David isn’t sure if that’s reassurance, a threat, or just an attempt to make him smile.

Whatever it is, it works.

“Sorry about that,” she says, brushing away a strand of hair that escaped her ponytail. She smiles at them both, a little shy but genuine and achingly beautiful. “I’m all yours now, though.”

Jasper realizes quickly that David isn’t really capable of words at the moment and flashes her his sunniest grin. “Don’t sign up for anything you can’t handle,” he jokes, reaching out with his free hand and taking hers. (David suppresses a gasp with effort; it never fails to shock him how brave his boyfriend is, how confident that whatever he does will work out somehow, for no other reason than that he wants it to.)

Gwen looks surprised for a second, and when she sees them holding hands it turns slightly to confusion. But then her eyes meet David’s and he can almost see the moment she decides to just roll with it. “Hey, I’m pretty brave,” she shoots back, turning her attention back to Jasper. “You might not know this, but I’m apparently going to break the law today.”

He mock-gasps. “I’m not sure we can keep you around! You’ll tarnish our innocence.”

David falls back, letting his hand slip through Jasper’s until only their fingertips are touching. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be part of the conversation, but there’s something nice about standing here in the honeyed yellow sunset, letting their voices wash around him like the breeze. Cozy, somehow.

“Hey!” Bonquisha calls, snagging Kevin by the hood and dragging him toward them. “You guys bringing Gloomy along, or what?”

The three of them share a look, and Gwen’s lips twist into a smirk. “That’s an unfortunate nickname.”

“String Bean and Ghost would argue there are worse ones,” Jasper replies dryly, and she lets out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth and blushing. “Oh, she’s adorable,” he says in a very loud stage whisper, leaning in toward David. “Can we keep her?”

“Stop!” she says, tugging her hand from his. She’s — she’s giggling, when before in class he’s hardly even seen her smile, and she hasn’t even started smoking yet, David’s pretty sure this is just the effect Jasper has on people but seeing it firsthand makes him think he might faint.

Can we keep her?

David tightens his hand around Jasper’s and shifts in a little closer — and trusts that he knows the answer is a resounding Yes.

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forestwater87 · 7 years

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This is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever been insanely proud of. I don't even know where to begin with this one. I just think it's cute as fuck.

Heavily inspired by (and maybe a little ripped off of) PadalickingGood's RT Hybrid AU. Their art is AMAZING, and their hybrid dorks are absolutely precious. (Not gonna lie, totally stole some ideas off of them, such as many of the animal ideas and the idea of trimming horns.

Anyway, the fact that David is a cat is entirely the fault of Pheebadohoh and KatykatUniverse, who made the cutest damn catboys and broke my insanely long bunny/dog tie with the need to make him a kitten.

ALSO I’D JUST LIKE TO MAKE IT ABUNDANTLY CLEAR THAT @kittensneezi IS LITERALLY THE ONLY REASON THIS IS BEING PUBLISHED INSTEAD OF LIVING BURIED IN MY WIPS FOREVER. BLAME HER. SHUN HER.

Sometimes Gwen was convinced that God thought He was real funny.

"God damn it motherfucker . . ." She yanked at the comb that was caught, wincing as it tugged but wouldn't budge. "David!"

Yeah, God was a hell of a comedian. Because what would a sheep be without wool?

David burst into the room, half-in and half-out of his shirt. "Is everything okay?" he asked, frantically trying to wriggle into his clothes and hurry to her side at the same time. Tripping over his tail, he stumbled forward, catching himself on one of her horns and nearly sending them both to the floor. "Gah!"

"Sorry," she said, helping him to his feet. "I didn't mean to make it sound like an emergency or anything, I just . . ." She sighed, pulling at the comb with no better luck. "Got stuck again."

His ears perked up. "Oh, no problem!" He hopped up onto the desk behind her and settled into a crouch, flexing his fingers to extend his nails. Gingerly sliding the needle-thin point of his index claw into her wool, he teased apart the strands until the comb was freed, then retracted his claws and fluffed her hair. "There we go! All better!"

"Thanks." She glanced down at herself to make sure everything was more or less in order and gestured for him to get off her desk. "Come on, let's go wake the zoo."

"All right!" As they walked toward the campers' tents, he gently patted her horn and said, "I didn't hurt it, right?"

She shrugged. "Nah, I've got a tough skull. Though . . . aren't cats supposed to be graceful?"

"I couldn't see! No one's graceful when they're blind!"

Rounding up the kids was never especially fun, though at least when they were tired it was easier to keep track of them. Even Nikki wasn't up to much this early in the morning, barely snapping at David's tail before settling in for breakfast.

THUNK.

"Fart nards!"

THUNK.

"Stupid door!"

David glanced toward the entrance to the mess hall, his eyes widening. "Gwen, Nurf's h —"

"On it." She got up, leaving her food behind, and went to where the boy was twisting and floundering, trying to get inside without catching his horns on the doorway. "Can I trim them now , Nurf?" she asked, leaning against the wall and watching him snort and scuff at the ground with his sneakers.

"I don't —" THUNK "— like —" THUNK "— people touching —" THUNK "— my horns!"

"No one does." After a few more seconds he stopped, panting, his tail flicking back and forth. There were some pretty impressive gouges in the frame, and Gwen raised her eyebrows. "But it's just gonna be worse the longer you wait."

He glared down at the ground, crossing his arms. "Fine," he muttered, tugging at his septum ring sullenly.

Gwen looked back at David. "Hey, bring us food when you get a chance? We'll be out back." She liked trimming inside, but there was no way those horns were getting into their cabin, so she settled him down on a rock behind the mess hall and went into her room to get the supplies.

She pawed through her stuff, wincing. Normally she'd shine a flashlight through the horn to see (and avoid) blood vessels as much as possible, but that was for maybe half an inch at most. Nurf'd never been trimmed in his life — and to be fair, she couldn't imagine anyone getting close enough to try without getting gored — and she was going to have to take off a lot more than that.

"All right," she said, setting the box down next to Nurf's rock and running a hand along one of his horns, "this is probably gonna bleed a lot, but it shouldn't hurt. You're off the hook for camp activities, though — don't want you fainting, so you'll be in our cabin most of the day."

"Fine." He looked and sounded angry, but she noticed the way his leg kept bouncing and his hands trembled. "Whatever, I don't even care."

"Close your eyes. It'll be less scary that way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared!" But he did as she said, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep, shaky breath.

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't quick, but eventually she'd cut his horns to a manageable length and gotten the bleeding to die down. "Okay," she said with a sigh of relief, gently bandaging the ends, "remember they'll grow back, and if you do it more often they'll look and feel better. It's like a bad haircut, all right?"

Nurf opened his eyes and gaped in shock; the grassy clearing looked like the site of a gruesome murder, bits of bone and huge splashes of blood staining the ground around them. "What the — !" He climbed to his feet and wobbled just a bit, letting her take his elbow and guide him over to lean against the wall.

"I know, I know." Gwen rested a hand on his upper back, hoping she sounded soothing. But she wasn't very good at this kind of thing. Where was David when she needed him?

"Oh my gosh, what the heck happened back here?!"

Oh. There he was.

David's knuckles were white around the tray of food he'd brought to them, the glasses of orange juice-like product trembling in his unsteady hands. His face was pale and cheesy, his hair had puffed out on end, and his pupils dilated into slits.

Well, so much for soothing. She took the tray, ignoring the way he hissed and jerked away from her bloody fingers. "Thanks, David. Can you get Nurf some clean clothes? I'm gonna make sure he eats something."

"I-I . . . um, okay." She'd never seen him this shaken, and it would've been entertaining if she didn't need him to be a functioning adult. "I'll . . . be right back, then."

Once he was gone, Gwen handed Nurf the tray. "At least get through the toast and juice so you don't pass out."

"I won't," he grumbled, but nibbled at the toast and kept his gaze turned away from the bloody patch of grass.

After a few minutes David returned, keeping his eyes on his feet. "I'm, um, here. With clothes."

"Awesome. Take Nurf to the showers and then bring him back to the cabin. I'm gonna change into something that looks a little less Carrie ."

The rest of the day was spent in an armchair, watching old cartoons with Nurf, both of them trying to ignore the way his horns were jagged stubs. He wouldn't look at them, not even when she periodically unwrapped them to put more anti-bleeding gel on the ends, and when she heard the faintest sniffling from his side of the room, she tossed the remote at him without looking and let him turn the volume up.

David wandered in as the sun was setting, bringing them both dinner (they'd wordlessly agreed it wasn't a good idea to leave Nurf alone with their personal belongings, so Gwen was confined to the cabin). He set the tray down and stretched out on the floor, rolling onto his back and watching the television upside-down.

"Nurf?" He glanced up at her with a grunt, and she continued, "I think you're in good shape. Eat something and I'll walk you back to the tents?"

"Yeah, fine, I don't care." He picked at his dinner, frowning, and she suspected the Quartermaster's spaghetti and crickets wasn't the only reason.

Gwen glanced down at David, who met her eyes and shrugged as well as he could while sprawled on the carpet. She rubbed at her own horns, poking the dull tips thoughtfully. "You know, I should probably trim these down too, before I forget. It's been a while." They both turned to her with varying levels of wariness. She met Nurf's gaze, trying to keep her face and voice casual. "Would you mind waiting around a little longer so I can get that done? It won't take long."

"I . . ." He shrugged, still looking sullen. "Whatever."

"Great!" She stood and stretched before heading to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open. After a second she texted David: 'Come in so he doesn't feel weird about being curious.'

He replied almost instantly: 'but what if he steals something while we're both in there?'

Gwen didn't even bother replying, just cleared her throat loud enough to travel into the next room. Getting the hint, she heard David mumble, "Excuse me!" A few moments later his head appeared in the doorframe. He hopped onto the lip of the sink as though that wasn't the most inconvenient place he could perch. "So why are we doing this?" he asked, drawing his knees to his chest and cocking his head to the side, his tail wrapping around him like a shawl.

"You'll see." She kept her focus on the flashlight in her hands, flicking off the overhead light and shining it through her left horn. (She didn't need to; after enough years of caring for them she'd more or less memorized where the blood vessels ended. But just in case Nurf decided to wander in, she wanted to make sure she showed the whole process.) Marking the place she wanted to cut with a black marker, she turned the lights on just in time to hear clumping, heavy footsteps.

David winced, shifting back as she reached for her trimmer. "Sh-should I move out of the way?"

"Nah, it's not gonna bleed, don't worry." Despite himself, he leaned in closer as she began to work, looking fascinated. "You can ask questions," she added, keeping her eyes on David but really talking to the silent figure in the doorway.

He finally seemed to pick up on what they were doing and scrambled for something to say. "So . . . uh, how often do you have to cut them? I've never noticed."

"I try to get it over with before showering, just in case I nick something," she replied, "but like once a month, ish? About the same time I shear my hair."

"And it doesn't . . . hurt?"

She shook her head. "Once, at like fourteen, I was embarrassed and tried to cut them all the way off. Didn't get halfway through one before I passed out from the pain. But it's like your claws; fine as long as you don't go too deep. Though sheep horns are a little different from, say, a bull's, which'll probably bleed a little every time." Setting aside the trimmer, she filed the end until it was smooth and rounded.

"Why're you doing that?" Nurf blurted out. He didn't look away as the counselors turned to him, but his jaw tightened, and he reached up and brushed the bandaged ends of one of his own horns. "Why didn't you do it to mine?"

Gwen continued working, focusing on making a straight cut. "Figured I'd wait until it was a little less raw, you know? It wouldn't hurt, but it'd be pretty gross and might fuck up —" David winced and she rolled her eyes, "— mess up the healing. I don't know enough about bull horns to be cool with risking it." He didn't reply, watching her carefully as she finished and cleaned up. "Ready to get out of here, kid?"

"Don't call me that," he muttered, but followed her to the front of the cabin.

"W-would you like me to walk him back?" David asked. He usually was the one who'd do this kind of thing; Gwen wasn't known for being especially nurturing, let alone going out of her way to escort one of their more difficult children to bed. But David was still looking a little pale, his eyes darting nervously to Nurf's horns and quickly away, so she dismissed him with a raised hand and led the way to the campers' tents.

They walked in silence for the most part, which Gwen had expected. Nurf wasn't chatty on the best of days, and this certainly hadn't been one of those. Aside from a muttered obscenity when the Quartermaster flitted low overhead, the boy was quiet.

It was only after she'd bid him goodnight and turned to leave that he spoke, so mumbled and fast that she almost missed it. "It won't be that bad every time, right?"

She shook her head. "Just be smart and don't go another 11 years between cuts, okay?"

"Do you think . . . maybe, next month . . ."

"I'll teach you how, yeah. And I'll ask QM to pick up the stuff you'll need." If it was any other kid she would've ruffled his hair, but even with his horns shortened and stubby, she didn't want to get too close. "Goodnight, Nurf."

David was curled up in a ball on her bed when she returned, his eyes glittering in the light from the hallway. "Everything all right?" he asked, stretching and rolling onto his side as she came in.

"Yeah." Shoving him over so she could sit down, she plopped onto the mattress and started untying her shoes. "He's freaked out, but he'll get over it. And I can't blame him — freaked me out a little, too. Lot more blood than I'd expected." She was quiet for a few moments, waiting for him to agree (and admit how unnerved he'd been), but when she looked over his eyes were glued to her shoelaces, the pink tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. "Oh, for Christ's sake, here ." She swiveled so that she was laying back against her pillows and set her feet on his lap, letting him untie her shoes and play with the laces. "You're fucking ridiculous."

He blushed, but glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "You did a good job today," he said, swinging one of the laces around his index finger. "I'm really proud of you!"

"Why?" Gwen snorted, shaking her head. "I ruined my boots," she glared pointedly at the sneakers she'd been forced to wear instead, "I turned the back of the mess hall into a swamp of evil — almost making you throw up, by the way — and you were left alone the whole day." She flashed him a sarcastic "okay" sign. "Real stellar performance all around."

"You related to Nurf," he replied with a shrug. "That's not easy."

"Eh, thick skulls gotta stick together." He chuckled, finally done with her shoes and sliding them off her feet before laying down next to her. "Besides, it's . . . shitty, having someone fuck with your horns. Especially when you're away from your parents and the person doing it doesn't really know anything about bull anatomy." She hooked an arm around his neck and gently scratched behind his ears, smiling as he melted into her side with a purr. "I felt bad, I guess."

"I didn't know it was that scary," he mumbled against her neck, growing drowsy from the fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry."

She kissed him on the forehead. "It's fine. Beats having a giant tail, at least. I still can't believe you've never closed that thing in a door."

"Just like another arm." His tail came up and clumsily flicked her nose, making her sputter and laugh. "Hard to forget it's there."

Fighting the urge to shove the fuzzy limb out of her face (she'd learned quickly that some things were too sensitive to be touched without good reason), she wrapped her other arm around his waist and pulled him closer until he was laying half on top of her. "Shove me away when you wanna get up," she said; he usually couldn't sleep more than a few hours at a time, and spent most of the night prowling.

He gave a sleepy hum of agreement and licked her nose before curling up and falling asleep.

#and i published such good angst literally a few hours ago #why did i immediately follow it up with this?#campcamp #hybrid au #i don't even know #cc david #cc gwen #gwenvid #cc nurf #hey at least there's lots of nurf bonding

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