#ask anyone who knows nothing about the show and give them pictures of Mike and Will giving each other those looks and ask them to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

echoingkarma · 4 months

Text

Just A Normal Coffee Shop AU - Summary of Plot

This is a bit overdue but I did promise we'd write it when we had time, and I have a tiny bit now, so here goes. CW for discussions of death / murder, and faint disreality. Remember, the source of this is FNAF, so CWs for that apply.

The idea for this AU came from a desire to throw together characters I loved but who would never meet, and also to put them within a common AU idea. I went with a coffee shop because it was the first I thought of, whilst also thinking a lot about how as an employee there, you can do little but stand behind the counter and smile. Day in, day out.

That had its own sort of horror element to it. I wanted to pursue that idea; you're trapped behind that counter for your shift. If a 7-8ft tall animatronic comes in and asks you if you know Michael Afton, with your coworker hiding behind the counter clinging to your ankle for dear life and shaking, you can't just turn on your heel or tell him to get out. Not without provoking something, whether it be an adverse reaction or his suspicions.

So you smile and you tell him no you don't. Its not your business to give out to customers. They don't need to know who works here or not, what time their shifts are at, any of that sensitive information.

After that, Vanessa comes in and sits with Sun, and they have a hushed conversation as Michael sneaks off to the back room and you continue the rest of the shift. Sun downs a coffee and finds it amusing when you seem startled, and Vanessa asks him to pay attention, and his only real response is to hushedly murmur about how they already know Michael is there so they have nothing to worry about.

As some people suspected, Sun is a wildcard. Vanessa plays the bad cop, and Moon is good cop. This is just naturally how their personalities worked out, and they play up to their roles.

Sun visits again the next day, and Mike is nowhere to be seen. You and Charlotte Emily are left to work behind the counter for a while, a faint amiable chatter all that settles your nerves as you wait for something to happen.

Henry Emily comes out just as Vanessa enters, and he tells them to leave and never return, they're not welcome here. Vanessa is angry with him, and says he was also part of it all, and if he lets this go now... and then she goes quiet, because they have an audience and she doesn't particularly want to talk about child murder in front of them all.

On the way home you pass torn posters - one reads 'Afton Animatronics. One in every home'. On the poster is a little girl with pigtails, showing how the robots are now advertised for childcare after the Pizzaplex burned down a few years ago (the first and only Fazbear establishment in this AU. A lot smaller than the one in Security Breach, although it still boasts a few attractions and its own Daycare). Still, a very faded poster nearby reveals the old star, Freddy Fazbear himself, smiling away in his tophat and bowtie.

You feel a sense of unease at the name and walk on until you bump into Moon, who kneels down and shows you a photo, asking if you really don't recognise anyone in the picture. You find it hard to not linger on the image, but Mike Schmidt hasn't changed - he looks less tired now, a little happier, a little less dead in the eyes and his mullet is a bit longer. Overall, though, the boy in the picture looks exactly like your coworker.

The other two kids are familiar too, somehow. The boy with short brown hair and, even in the photo, a light in his eyes, and a little girl with two pigtails and a big smile.

When Moon sees you looking, he tucks it away in his pocket and asks if you really don't recognise any of them, and you feel like you've stared for too long, so you have to say something. He tilts his head at you when your only response is that you recognise the girl, although you don't know from where, and he hums and stands, offering you a business card for Afton Animatronics. The number is scrawled out and a new one is written in its place.

You tuck it into your pocket and thank him with a hoarse voice, and he turns and walks away. Suddenly, you're taking the long way around to your apartment, something niggling in your mind about being followed, about not being safe. You close the door behind you with a whoosh of air and an audible click, sinking down against it.

Your breathing hasn't yet calmed when your phone rings, and you lift it and look at the caller ID, huffing out a sigh when you see it's Henry. You answer, and he's as warm as you as ever, asking if you got home safe and if you'd come in tomorrow for a talk. You reassure him, but your hands haven't stopped shaking when you hang up and head to bed, throwing your bag and phone down beside it and immediately closing your eyes.

The meeting is about personal safety. Henry asks if you want him to come get you for work and leave you back again when your shift is over, but you turn the offer down. Mike is there, and he offers you a tired smile, both grateful and concerned.

You start to choke a little. You'd always kept people a bit distant, but the people here were treating you like they treated each other; a tight knit family, a trusted group, someone they could turn to and who could turn to them too, if you ever needed to. Mike puts a gentle hand on your arm when he notices you shaking, and Charlotte curses out Moon, who she'd seen stop you yesterday on her way home.

And for the first time, you sit there and decide you'll really and truly try to help. More than just saying you don't know, you're not sure - you're going to defend this little family of yours as best you can, rather than running away and avoiding people, leaving no roots to pull when the time came.

This resolution stays strong for about a week. You don't see Sun, Moon or Vanessa anywhere in this time, until suddenly you're pulled into a little alleyway between two stores on your way home and you have to swallow down a scream as you look up at the three faces together.

Vanessa looks furious and at her wit's end as she lectures you, telling you what's happened so far; there are children dying, and they need Henry to listen, they need Michael home because he's the only person who could ever have enough information to stop it.

The word sours in your mind. Home. Something about it prickles and simmers and sets off a spark. You faintly remember something, two little kids calling after you, and a third standing off at the other end of the room, watching with a warm smile and dark brown eyes.

And then it's gone and you're just back in some damp alleyway with three tall figures hovering over you, and you start to choke up, and you say you have nothing to do with this but they need to leave people alone who want to be left alone.

Sun regards you with a proud smile, although it twists a little with some sort of desperation at the edges, whereas Moon merely tips his head forward and lets his hat fall over his eyes, watching on keenly whilst occassionally looking out over the street.

Vanessa keeps trying to pressure you, and after a bit your phone rings and you flinch. When you go to answer it, Moon mumbles about it being time to go, and the three slink off and leave you with your heart in your throat as you answer the call, unable to find the time to hide the shake in your voice.

You're bundled into Henry's car within 10 minutes, and he takes you to your apartment to pack up anything you need, and then takes you back with him to stay in a spare room in his house. You realise both Charlotte and Mike live here when they join you for dinner and Charlotte makes a joke about this being the Daydream Coffee house now.

The coffee is closed for a holiday after you inform them of what happened. Henry chides you for not telling him the first time Moon stopped you, and then he sighs and flicks the business card between his fingers, considering something. He rubs at his temples before picking up his phone, and the room goes silent as you hear the faintest edge of the ringback tone.

Henry talks to Vanessa in a gruff voice, not warm but not harsh either. He asks her what's going on, and his eyes widen when she answers, before his face darkens completely. After a very brief conversation, he glances around at the three of you still sitting at the table patiently, each wearing your own look of concern, and he hangs up and puts his phone down.

With his hands carefully folded in front of him, Henry tells you all what's happening; Vanessa thinks William (Henry glances at Mike when he says the name, and the latter pales but sits steady as he listens) is using his animatronics to kidnap children. She doesn't know why he's doing it, but she took the Daycare Attendants when the Pizzaplex burned down and acted like she was going to help him before running as far as she could with them to find help.

The information you all learn over the next few days isn't any more pleasant; whilst working for Afton, Vanessa felt nearly brainwashed. The Daycare Attendants speak of a similar symptom, although their own problem can be tied into something in their code. Still, the three of them say the feeling dissipated the moment the Pizzaplex burned to the ground.

Vanessa also describes being invited to the basement one day. There was something down there, some documents about testing. She talks about the way the animatronics reacted, as though they were alive and sentient. Beside each of their names in the files, there was something else...

Freddy had Gregory, Roxy had Cassie, Chica had Elizabeth, and Monty had Evan. There were other plans for more animatronics, and random names listed beside them. In the next room over, she could hear machines whirring and ticking. She remembers seeing a small hand, and then her vision went purple and she was back upstairs, unaware of what had happened at all.

Mike, beside you, looks like he's going to be sick. The names pry at your own brain too, and he looks over and suddenly there are tears in his eyes, and for some reason its you he wraps his arms around and holds as he starts to cry, shaking with the force of it. You hesitantly put your own arms back around him and pat his back, and something purple flickers at the edge of your vision.

Sun and Moon both watch as your memory crashes back down on you. The tears start flowing before you even realise what's happening, before the images stop playing through your mind, something about Mike tearing down a forceful purple wall and revealing what had been hidden behind it for years.

You're a child standing in a living room. Two little kids stand before you and laugh, showing off some toys their father had made them a few days before. At the other side of the room, Michael Afton beams and crosses his arms, watching on with a relentless fondness. You feel yourself smiling back.

And then your smile fades with a harsh crunch. You hadn't seen much, and you're so grateful for it. Michael, however, had seen everything in that moment. He was standing right there when the animatronic locked onto Elizabeth, and he immediately went to grab Evan away before the same could happen to him.

Unfortunately, he didn't quite make it in time. The 'malfunctioning' machines locked onto the children and you remember the harsh cacophany before a sharp, stinging silence. You remember covering your mouth and hiding, brain sparking with static and a ringing in your ears. You remember Michael falling to his knees on the ground. You remember being told time and time again that the basement was out of bounds and no one was to go in there unsupervised.

But, then again. Elizabeth had always been interested in the animatronics, and Michael only wanted to do something nice. Your ears pick up on his sobbing again now, back in the present, but your mind stays in the past, where the boy knelt silent as death itself until footsteps descended the stairs, and you peeked out around the corner and saw William Afton come to a harsh stop as he took in the sight, eyes slowly widening.

There would be no way to explain something like this. As an adult, you would have wondered why the door wasn't locked and why none of you were being supervised anyway. You would have wondered about where he'd suspected you'd gone; you were staying the night again, as you did most days. You wouldn't be far away from the scene, you wouldn't have left Michael alone with the younger kids. With your younger siblings, perhaps not by blood but by a bond of familiarity and comfort, by many evenings shared together when it was the only place in the world you felt safe.

That night the feeling would disappear forever. You don't remember what William said, but you do see the edges of his smile lifting now in your mind. The same man who would pat you on the head, watching as the endoskeletons creaked to life, purple flowing in their tubes as they readjusted to stand straight, warm bodies slowly growing cold as they fall to the floor and leave behind only metal and unmoving faces you could still somehow feel the fear from.

Chica, Elizabeth. Evan, Monty. Your throat is on fire. A tiny hand, unmoving and still. Were the two the first, or merely a step in the experiments Afton performed, trying to perfect his craft? You remember playing with Charlotte too, the little doll she had. Everything always matched so perfectly, Afton would always say. It was designed just for her, after all.

You half wonder if you would have been left wearing a metal shell, had William peered around the corners of his basement that day and found you. You wonder if he'd have dragged you back there screaming and kicking to keep you silent.

You weren't there for the funeral. You'd left town by then, after becoming disturbingly quiet and unresponsive, and things seemed to fade away the further you got from it all, until one day you woke up and you couldn't remember any of it at all.

Now, it hits you like a ton of bricks. Like an endoskeleton tightening its harsh metal jaws around your skin, your flesh, and clamping down until bone and all gave way. You're left reeling and dizzy, and look around the table, and Henry seems to know just what has happened, and he curses under his breath and suddenly your breathing is too loud and you know you're going to be sick.

The evening is spent recovering as people talk in hushed voices between other rooms of the house. You tuck up on the sofa, a cold hand on your forehead - after your memories, its weird that you feel safe under Sun and Moon's watchful eyes, the two taking turns to comfort you and Michael. They must have been good at their jobs when they were in the Daycare.

Time passes quickly, and its another few days before anyone really feels up to making much of a plan. Its a shoddy one even when it does form; exposing Afton with nothing less than complete proof wouldn't work. He was used to covering up scandals, and would do anything to protect his company.

However, Mike had been raised on it all. He knew secrets no one else ever would; even moreso than Henry, who'd been a cofounder at the time before he found out what was happening and took quite a large sum of money off with him and opened a café instead, intent to live out the rest of his days in some sort of quiet repentence, protecting anyone who survived the Afton family.

Sun and Moon are incredibly helpful too. They know their way around the animatronics and have all the leftover code from the Daycare. This also means they have some of the first trial code on capturing children to use, which is something admitted very reluctantly as Moon admits he doesn't at all remember if he ever actually helped.

They also know where the main stars are being kept, and think it would be a good start to break them out and get their assistance, especially as they may be able to locate a lot more proof. Mike frets over this; do they think they'd remember..? Sun shifts in his seat, his permanent smile cast in shadow as he looks down, and Moon artificially clears his throat and says there's a reason they knew so much about him.

Everyone is assigned roles, and you all work together tirelessly - one day you see Sun pat the coffee machines sympathetically and break out in a small smile - until things are in place. And then you're all bundled up between two cars and you're on the move.

Everyone tries their best to make the roadtrip less terrifying than it is; Charlotte takes photos of everything, Mike insists on trying a new drink at every rest stop, and Sun and Moon find new ways to sit constantly to try their best to fit into the car. Vanessa and Henry are the two drivers, and whilst Vanessa takes her job incredibly seriously with a white knuckle grip, you can see Henry trying to join in on the lighthearteded activities, although you often catch him with pinched brows and a distant look.

It gets quieter and quieter as you get closer, and once you pull into the city everyone falls silent. Memories lit up purple scratch at your skull, and when you look around everyone seems to have a similar headache (including Sun and Moon, who occassionally spit out a string of static or have to step away to release a high-pitched beeping sound and pre-programmed lines about cleaning the Daycare and washing our hands before we eat).

But you all survive, and you make it there and before you know it you're all about to break in to the latest small venue he's opened, where parents can bring their kids to pick out an animatronic for their home.

Things are going smoothly until you see William Afton himself, smiling and laughing and looking down at a child the same way he used to look at you, and this time you notice the edges to his expression, the sharpness to his smile and the way he looks at them like one would a prized obsession.

You know you need to get that kid out of there, but aren't sure how until you see one of their parents approach and then walk off in your direction. When they return with a tray of drinks, you decide it's now or never, and bump straight into them, sending everything clattering down the front of their shirt.

Apologies are stuttered out and you can see the fight to maintain their patience even as their grab their kid and promise to return another day, they need to get home and get changed now. You apologise again as they leave, and almost breathe a sigh of relief when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

You turn and look directly up at William Afton, and your breath seems to leave your lungs all at once. There's a sweetness like grape candy on your tongue when you inhale, a sensation that begs your mind to just let go, to forget again, to be happy here with the Afton family.

Trying to shake it off and praying he doesn't recognise you, you mirror his smile and say you're here to pick out an animatronic. Something ticks away in his vision, but William puts a hand on your upper back and leads you to look at the latest models, asking if you had any preferences and if you had kids or it was just going to do the housework.

Its not easy to lie when you're still struggling to breathe, the sweet taste of the air catching in your dry mouth, determined to make its way into your lungs and settle there, to make itself at home once again. Purple flickers through your mind and you fight it back with all your might until your phone buzzes and you ask if you can go take the call for a moment. You make your way outside as though calm, talking cheerfully, but the moment you're out you book it straight over to Sun and Moon in the car, gasping for air.

Everyone is out. They've found enough - nothing is described to you, but you're sure it will be compelling. Henry wouldn't do anything that would fail.

After this point, the story would definitely diverge off into exposing Afton and watching as things crashed down around him. Y/N and Mike would get to meet Elizabeth and Evan again, although they're possessing the animatronics and will be freed in the process, allowing them to finally be at peace. They tell Mike they don't blame him at all, even after having all this time to think. Everything had been planned out by their father, anyway.

You continue to have a family in Henry, Charlotte, and Michael. It grows quickly - Sun and Moon are just animatronics, they're not possessed, and so they remain as they are. Vanessa moves in a bit away again, and Henry asks if she's finally ready to live her own life, and you see the relief flood her features as she finally relaxes. You later learn of how she's been working for William since she was a young teenager as Michael's replacement once he'd managed to gather enough to move away, with Henry's help.

Another series of cafés are opened, and Sun and Moon are your new coworkers - Daydream Café remains animatronic free to keep jobs available for humans who still want to work, but the location you're transferred over to (and end up opening, blushing furiously as you cut the ribbon and listen to cheers ring out) isn't, allowing the two to work alongside you. They learn very quickly and the lot of you become close as well.

You treat Mike and Charlotte as siblings, and Henry welcomes you to take on his surname if you want. Essentially, everyone just finally gets to live. Mike opens up an animatronic company soon after because people were starting to rely on them, and you watch as his outgrows anything William could have ever made with an overwhelming sense of pride.

And then the next day, you get to go make coffee with your two favourite animatronics again, and again, and again.

#this was longer than i planned it to be but i just wanted to type out SOMETHING #just a normal coffee shop au #fnaf sb au #my writings #fnaf sb #excuse typos i typed this straight into tumblr #note. i only got up to like. just before you go to henrys house in solid planning #and even then a lot of it was very rough #everything after that i had some ideas for but mostly am making up on the spot now #i never had an actual ending planned out either sorry #im going to bed now jsdjhf

11 notes · View notes

jjtheresidentbaby · 2 years

Text

Rating Stranger Things Ships

(I’ve seen so many people do this so I wanted to)

(Some of these don’t have ship names as I can’t remember them or just can’t spell sheubeud)

(Btw feel free to send in any asks you have any these or just want me to talk more abt them)

- Byler 8/10- I love them but I understand the people who don’t. Honestly before season 4 Will and Mike were low on the favorite character tower, they were basically at the bottom actually. But I love Will in season 4 and season 4 Mike is so good to me (even if he’s oblivious). Also them being absolute idiots when they start dating is canon, just little whispers back and forth, Mike crushing will in his sleep, wills constant need to do laundry bc Mike drools in his sleep, Mike posing funny for paintings, Will getting his picture taken by Mike every five seconds- just awe

- Mileven- 4/10- Eh. I didn’t even like them in 1&2 so there isn’t much to say, I think season 3 showed some cute moments and the part in the pizza place in 4 was so cute to me. I don’t really love the idea of them staying together but I get peoples liking to them

- Jopper- 10/10- I mean come on, the best, love them, they need to get married and move in together

- Jancy- 5/10- I loved them in 1&2 but three ruined them, it was just so bad and then 4 on top of that proves they need to break up. It’s that thing where the build up is way better than the actual thing, they just aren’t it and some of their fans get crazy so it makes me dislike the ship even more

- Stancy- 8/10- my loves <3, would be a 10/10 if steve didn’t do that billboard sign thing in 1. Steve being a housewife while Nancy is out making the money sounds like heaven to me. Lovers to enemies to friends to lovers again trope give me (I know they weren’t really enemies but shush) (also if anyone tells me Steve would force Nancy to have kids, fuck off and shut up, disrespectfully)

- Steddie- 3/10- IM SORRY!!! They just got so much hype and for what?? I don’t hate them or anything but they do nothing for me. They’re just eh. Meh. Bleh. Bland I guess

- Ronance- 6/10- I could see it and I could get behind it but it’s not like my otp or anything. They are super adorable and I love seeing fanart for them so yeah, good ship just not my fav

- Jargyle- 10/10- if you don’t think they’re gay you’re just plain dumb. Stoner bfs for life

- Stonathan- 8/10- need I say more? Steve and Johnathan? Yeah. Yup. 1&2 just make them have the best enemies to lovers arc known to man

- Steve x Johnathan x Argyle- 10/10- I feel like this is self explanatory but yeah them, them over so many

Steve x Johnathan x Argyle x Nancy -11/10- YES I NEED IT!!! It’d solve every single problem ever!! Omg I would sob so bad if I ever found a fic of them

- Stoncy- 10/10- one of my favorite ship of the older kids. They’d be perfect and having Robin third wheel at all times is great, they are everything to me. The three of them in 2 makes me feral

- Lumax- 10/10- how can it not be a 10/10??? It’s perfcet!! Max is so great for Lucas and Lucas is so great for max!! I love them!! Would die for both of them <3

- Elumax- 10/10- give it to me now!! They’d be so fucking adorable and just so pure. I’d die for the three of them

- Elmax- 9/10- add Lucas and boom 10/10, I’m a sucker for these two together though and that mall scene remains one of my favorites out of the whole show

- Byclair- 5/10- okay so I see potential but it’s nothing I’m actively thinking about a lot, they’d be cute tho

- Madwheeler- 7/10- id pay money for them to be together in a different universe where they’re snarky sarcastic partners that shit on everyone and love doing it!! Their relationship would make me giggle and I know it. They have actual potential for enemies to lovers but just not canon cause y’know Lucas is <3

- Wheelclair- 8/10- yup I see it and I love it. Nerdy broody boyfriend with jock teasing boyfriend?? Yup. They’d be so smart together don’t even lie, also Lucas teaching Mike how to play basketball is a must. Them skipping hellfire to make out- yup! Mm them <3

- Dustin x Suzie 4/10- okay I like season 4 them as Suzie is a queen but season 3 made me annoyed a bit, like girl shut up about a song when the worlds collapsing

- Henderhop - 6/10- I can see it and they’d be adorable but I wish they had more interactions in the show. Like yes they’d be adorable but I have a hard time picturing it with how little I can think of them that relates to actual scenes

- Lucas x Dustin - 5/10- I see it okay but they just meh for me, like season 1 them yeah but I much prefer max and Lucas

- Dustin x Max- 2/10- I remember rooting for Lucas when watching 2 for the first time and my points still stand, it wouldn’t work out good and I know it. Max is too mature (?that sounds mean but I can’t think of another word) for Dustin and it’d crumble so fast

- Will x Lucas- 5/10- okay yeah I can see it but I think it falls into the category of the not enough screen time together for me to get a good visual of how it would play out

- anything with Billy- 0/10- he’s racist and abusive stop trying to pretend he isn’t

#jj rambles #stranger things #lumax #elumax #stancy #jancy #jopper #byler #henderhop #madwheeler #byclair #stoncy #stonathan #jargyle #ronance #steddie #mileven #wheelclair

59 notes · View notes

kats-fic-recs · 1 year

Text

The Best Stranger Things Fics I read in 2022

Common Cents

Making a will at eighteen seems incredibly morbid. The lawyer stares at him long and hard the entire time. She acts like he's contagious, like she might catch her death from him or maybe he'll ruin her rug by dropping dead in her office. Steve figures she has nothing to worry about. If anything's going to kill him, it's probably going to be a monster from the Upside Down.

In which Steve hunts monsters, becomes a deputy, makes a will, and finds a family. Among other things.

darlin’ you give love (a bad name)

The first time he hears Dustin and Mike mention the name Eddie Munson he almost walks into a VHS display at work.

Steve wants to ask them how Eddie’s doing but then his face from that last party flashes into his head and he always clams up. If he was Eddie he’d want nothing to do with him and rightly so.

Instead Steve teasingly complains about how much time they spend with Eddie and that’s as far as it goes.

To Be Loved For No Reason At All

It all starts with Steve finding Eddie Munson in Alison Brown’s bathtub.

Or, how one night leads to a conversation, leads to shotgunning, leads to confessions, leads to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Steve's just along for the ride.

sub-culture

“Is he whining about Eddie being mean to him again?” Robin is leaning in the doorway, eating a leftover slice that’s probably cold by now. “You talk about him more than you talk about girls, Steve, it’s getting concerning. Anyone would think you had a crush.”

or, steve is pretty convinced eddie now hates him. turns out eddie has the opposite problem.

get you back (by my side)

Eddie hasn't spoken to Gareth and the others since whatever went down with Chrissy Cunningham, now Gareth sees him playing basketball with Steve Harrington and a bunch of kids, what the fuck is going on?

Sinclair sighs longingly.

“Okay, man, I can get behind you on the sweet and salty,” says Gareth, “but New Coke?”

“He was crazy for it,” says Harrington, grinning all fond at the back of Sinclair’s head like he’s retelling the story of his toddler’s foray into the world of art and talking Gareth through all the monstrosities in pride of place on the fridge. “Weird kid.”

Eddie is smiling at the side of Harrington’s face and Jesus Christ, Gareth never wants to meet another gay man in his whole life if their taste is Steve fucking Harrington.

our house (in the middle of our street)

He's in the market for a house, it's not his fault the Creel Murder House is the cheapest place he can find. It's kind of the perfect house, really, Steve's got a big family.

Eddie fumbles in rolling the blunt. They’re sitting in Eddie’s room while he rolls on the tray balanced on his knees. “You’re — you’re giving me a key?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if you want to move out of here but uh… option is there if you uhm, need it?”

He stays staring at Steve, fingers paused over the tray like the ridiculous caricature of a stoner caught red handed by the cops. “For real? What about rent?”

“Yeah man, of course. I know you haven’t been sleeping great here for obvious reasons and like, a new place isn’t going to help that much but…” He shrugs. “Got more rooms than I know what to do with, so fuck rent. I’m getting keys for you and Rob next week and maybe some for the kids, I don’t know if I trust them with keys to my house.”

when you need me, call me (no matter where you are)

Steve isn't having the best time of it but he's trying to make time for his kids. Then everything goes to shit again. At least he gets a fugitive boyfriend out of it.

When it all starts happening again Steve mentally blames Tammy Thompson’s singing, probably woke Vecna up and he was all like “these people need to remember their favourite songs, because if that’s the musical talent in this town… boy are they fucked” or something along those lines. Or maybe he’s just feeling a little bit insane because he just saw Max — little Max with the red hair who scared him a little bit and saved him from Billy that one time — floating up in the sky like, like an angel. And he couldn’t do a thing but hope Max really, really likes Kate Bush.

strung through the tether

The talk explained how it all worked, why his pain was her pain and vice versa, but it didn’t answer any of the questions Robin would come to formulate in the following years.

Questions like: what makes someone your soulmate? Questions like: why do so many people get married even if they aren't soulmates? Questions like: who ever said it was a boy?

your shadow's red (like a film i've seen)

Three days after Vecna, Robin tries to kiss Steve. Tries to be something he deserves. Someone who can fuck him, be with him. Something better, a good person like she isn't. She tries to not be fucked up. Steve doesn't let her.

If only for a moment they are wild and cold, faces up to the unreflective sky, just a boy and a girl holding hands watching the stars as the wind tugs and pulls them, kindly cruel in a way that mends.

Maybe they don’t need anyone else, she thinks, maybe they can stay there until the wind strips them to their bones. She wouldn’t mind dying if it was with Steve.

He turns to her and she thinks he might kiss her but then he’s just holding her against his chest and it feels like such an impossibly mean thought to have about Steve, to even think that he might do that to her, that she starts crying. Sometimes she thinks she doesn’t deserve him and he doesn’t deserve how she thinks about him. He’s just so much good sometimes Robin thinks something must turn for the worst, surely King Steve isn’t all gone, surely at some point he’s going to reveal himself: he was making fun of her the whole time, trying to make her normal.

feel the magic (there's something that drives me wild)

Robin is drunk and not for the first time wishes she could fall in love with Steve Harrington. Wishes she was 'normal'.

It’s dumb, really dumb, that she still wants to crow to the whole of Hawkins High that she knows what Steve looks like in the morning, in his boxers, coming out of the shower. She still wants to be normal, and it stings sometimes so harshly she thinks she might cry, that she’s never going to swoon over Steve’s arms or his stupid hair.

i wanna make a supersonic man (out of you)

Lucas is the man of the group, he knows this. He's got to be the man, like Steve, and wear polos and khakis and come between evil and the weak and be a lady killer and a charming, funny, sweet guy. Like Steve who has started hanging out with Eddie Munson and getting piercings and wearing eyeliner and not being the man Lucas thought he was.

“Steve is that an earring?” says Dustin, at one of his highest pitches, slap bang in the middle of one of Eddie’s tirades.

Everyone pauses. Number one, you never interrupt Eddie, especially not during D&D. Number two, what? (Lucas has strong suspicions he can’t let Max ever find out about this, or she’s going to break-up with him and become a full-time Steve admirer.)

They all lean forwards.

Steve shifts slightly uncomfortably, but he looks amused. “Yeah.” He shrugs. And there it is, a single tiny silver hoop in his left ear. Lucas stares, amazed.

“You’re a guy,” says Lucas, without thinking about it.

Steve only laughs. “I am aware, Lucas, thank you.”

lover boy pizza

A follow-through to the idea “fuck it make em all gay” ft the addition of: no no no jonathan and argyle as a couple but they don’t know everyone else is also coupled up and they’re high as shit trying to act normal on this now-quintuple date they think is just-bro-time.

(The Real) Stranger Things Season 3

(Because after (gestures at what Netflix gave us), we really needed a rewrite.)

It's summer vacation, 1985.

After everything that's happened in the past two years, Will just wants to go back to the way things were - and the Party seems to be racing on ahead, leaving him behind as they get swept up in the new adventure of being teenagers. But when something darker threatens to reenter their lives, the Party has more to deal with than just dating and summer shenanigans.

Joyce knows that something is wrong - she can just feel it. And Hopper knows by now to trust her instinct. Together they set out to find answers - and find that not all is as they assumed.

Unappreciated and heckled at her internship at The Hawkins Post, Nancy picks up the phone to a strange call. Sensing a story, she grabs Jonathan and chases the lead.

El isn't sure who she is - or if she has the strength to defeat the evil that's rearing its head in this once-quiet town.

Dustin picks up a strange code on his ham radio.

Steve hates his Scoops uniform.

Something strange is stirring in Hawkins - something that wants to get back in.

One summer can change everything.

kiss it better

Of course Will is here. They take care of each other. It’s what they do.

or: Mike and Will, through the years and in between the lines of friendship and something more.

I Never Find Out 'Til I'm Head Over Heels

Wherein Mike believes he’s being obvious, Will doesn’t know what he believes, and the pair of them could use a lesson or two in effective communication. Somehow all of this has both nothing and everything to do with five years' worth of school dances.

The Dad Who Stepped Up

Hopper’s many attempts at bonding with his youngest unofficial stepson over the course of their first year in Hawkins.

Sometimes it goes well, other times he’s trying to see if he’s unlocked his daughter’s ability to glare someone (Michael Wheeler) to death.

i’d love to see me from your point of view

Now that Will’s sitting and Mike’s the one that’s standing, he looks impossibly tall. Tall and lanky, and huge. He should sit back down, Will thinks, lay back down next to Will and stay in their own secluded little bubble.

“I really want to kiss you,” Mike says, and Will’s eyes snap back up to his so violently he thinks he hears his own neck crack with the force of it.

“Don’t,” Will croaks, before his brain has even processed the words. “Don’t say that.”

“Okay,” Mike says easily, still staring. And what the actual fuck is going on? Is Will hallucinating? Is the weed making him hallucinate? “So sausage and pepperoni?”

Will stares dumbly at him. “Um - yeah. Yes.”

“Cool,” Mike replies and then just turns around and leaves Will sitting dumbly in his own room.

Mike and Will get high on Jonathan’s weed and Mike has an amazing idea.

you rearrange me 'til i'm sane

Will has never had a girlfriend (or a boyfriend) before. There may or may not be one person behind the reason why.

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this).

The first time it happens, Will classifies it as a little accident.

When he wakes, the morning sun is burning through the window onto their faces, and Mike’s cursing as he stands to close the curtains, stumbling all the way.

“Scoot over,” he grumbles, voice dry, and for a second Will can’t do anything other than sigh like a lovesick idiot. It’s a second too late for Mike, because he grumbles more words Will doesn’t catch under his breath and then physically pushes Will towards the wall to lay beside him, arm over Will’s middle. A second of silence passes, then Mike sighs, only to whine: “Fuck, my head hurts.”

Will can’t help it: he breaks down laughing, much to Mike’s offense.

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

Alternatively: five times Mike kissed Will, and one time Will kissed back.

all this time (how could you not know?)

Mike sighs, looking down at his hands. "I always thought I would end up with someone more similar to me, you know? Someone I can talk about, like, hobbies and music and stuff with, without them visibly losing interest halfway through.”

You have more in common with him than El, says the voice in Will’s head. He wonders, briefly, whether it would be weird to shove his face back into the pillow and scream.

Will is definitely not qualified to be giving out any relationship advice. For one, he's never actually dated anyone before. Second, one of the people in said relationship is his sister. And third, the other person is the guy he's sort of in love with. There's no possible way this could backfire. Right?

sealed with a kiss

“Dude,” Dustin says, sounding kind of horrified but also kind of delirious with elation. “Oh my God, you like him. You like Will. Will. As in, our Will. Our best friend Will.”

“I do not–” Mike tries, even though he’d kind of just admitted to accidentally kissing Will Byers, a little, so maybe that’s an entirely fruitless road to go down.

Listen. No one should ever let Mike make decisions right after he wakes up from a nap, okay? Especially not decisions where Will is concerned. This is so not his fault.

keep glowing (come back)

And despite this, he will gather the pages and leaf through them. Read the words he didn’t want to think about during the daytime because they were wrong and awful and shitty. Half-scribbled confessions and outbursts and meltdowns, memories and stray thoughts and promises that he’d nearly forgotten to keep.

Skip through them after the first few, skim the bottom of the pages in a move just like El’s, see what she always wanted to see: Love, Mike scrawled at the bottom of every page.

or: mike & will through the years

people like you find it easy (naked to see)

Will sees these people. These pink people and these blue people. He sees the way they fit together and hates the way he doesn't ever want a pink half of his soul, he wants something blue, something wrong.

Will still remembers that ice cold shock in the rain that started in his bones and reverberated outwards until the edges of him were static, fizzing and unreal, and the only thing about him that was fact, immovably and intrinsically true, that it wasn’t Mike’s fault, it wasn’t anyone’s but his own, that he didn’t like girls. The bike ride, the rain slick on his face like a membrane, his whole body burning and freezing all at the same time, still blurry at the edges, and the only thing, the only thing, he knew about himself to be true was that he liked boys, he liked boys in a way he wasn’t supposed to. He was broken, a freak like Jonathan had said, but not a freak in a good way, he was bad and rotten.

He had wanted to blame it on the Upside Down, back then. He had wanted it to be something out of his control. But he knows, knows like Lonnie knew when he was just a kid, that he has always been this way. He’s always been wrong in some unfixable, innate way that will stay with him until he dies.

home is where the heart is

“It’s a good thing,” Will reassures, and his thumb swipes over Mike’s cheek. Mike thinks he might explode. “It means you’re nice to look at. Artists would love you.”

Mike’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. Will is still looking at him, and he swallows, throat dry. “Yeah?”

Will’s own face reddens, like he’d just thought about what he said. “Yeah,” he answers, and Mike grins.

Living in a shared apartment with Will is all Mike could ask for, except for the part where he keeps thinking about kissing Will in the middle of their kitchen.

i'll find myself in the moonlight

He looks up at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Do you not love her?"

Mike shrinks back. “What?"

He hadn’t meant to say it. He wouldn’t have, if he’d stopped to think about it for half a second. But it’s too late to take it back, and he can’t breathe until he knows the answer, and he looks at him resolutely and says, “Do you only love her because of what I said?

Something darkens on Mike’s face, twisting it into a shape Will’s never seen. “Get out.”

It’s not a no.

or: Mike and Will share a room, and Mike finds out the truth about the painting.

mike wheeler's guide to falling in love with a superhero

“Uh-huh,” Mike says faintly, and he yelps when they narrowly avoid the edge of a shining skyscraper, and his hands clutch onto Spiderman instinctively. “Oh – my fucking God, that –”

Spiderman’s fingers press a little firmly into Mike’s shirt. "Just – hang on!"

"What do you mean just hang – was that a pun," Mike sputters, clutching onto Spiderman for dear life as they swing through the city, and he can hear the superhero laugh through the racing wind in his ears, the rumble of it under Mike’s arm wrapped around his middle.

In a city of superheroes, Mike keeps running into Spiderman, much to his dismay.

On a completely different and unrelated note, Mike also attempts to woo and charm his neighbor into a date.

Heavy Hopes

Mike walks in on his roommate making out with another guy, and gets really upset about it. For all of the normal, straight reasons.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #robin wheeler #steddie #stranger things fic #byler fic #steddie fic #ao3 #fanfiction #fic recs #fanfiction recommendation #fic rec

34 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 3 years

Text

Bite Me - Mike Wheeler

word count: 4052 warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met. And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known. (a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys

___

(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets. From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were. She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.

He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade. She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group. Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.

They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own. She was truly one of them.

She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met. That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back. “We can’t just stay here and-”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face. “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”

Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave. Nothing stressed him out like these kids.

“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.

His glare softened when he turned to her.

She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her. He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room. Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.

“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”

“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again. “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.

Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.

(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.

“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now. “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”

He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.

“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.

She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven. He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge. Hence the pouting right now.

“I guess,” He shrugged. “I just- I want to just-”

“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again. “I get it”

She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved. He was brave, if not a little reckless as well. But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help. Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.

Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face. His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit. She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.

“You good now?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He sighed. “I’ll be fine”

She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.

“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him. “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”

He laughed a bit as she left the room.

“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.

He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.

“You alright?”

“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh. “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.

Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.

“He’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink. “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess. You’re stuck here anyways”

“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge. “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.

Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now. He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D. His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek. And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness. She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to. Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.

Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-

“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”

(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.

He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him. He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n). “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”

“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.

Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing. She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.

“He’s very, um-”

“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile. “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it. I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it. He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”

(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt. He’d always known. She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.

They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.

“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.

Their question was quickly answered.

“Sinclair!”

The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.

“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.

“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.

“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.

“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.

“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled. All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid. “He’ll kill him”

“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend. “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”

“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.

(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.

Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.

“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.

(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.

“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.

Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile. His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.

Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now. He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.

“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.

When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.

“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house. “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look. “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”

“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”

She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.

Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked. Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.

Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock. She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.

Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs. (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.

It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.

“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.

“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.

(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.

“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.

The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards. He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.

“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.

Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly. It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.

When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.

Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious. He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again. The snap. Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.

It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.

While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).

“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.

“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.

“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”

Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut. He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down. All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.

She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.

Oh, fuck.

She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her. This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall. She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.

She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious. It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest. He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care. He was gonna keep her safe now.

Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.

“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up. “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.

He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose. He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.

“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her. “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back. I’ll help you with her”

Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan. They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car. ___

Everything.

Hurt.

It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to. Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-

Oh shit my head hurts.

She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised. The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.

She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car. Why was she in a car…?

Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek. She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.

“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called. It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips. Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.

“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.

“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended. She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize. “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.

“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.

“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked. “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”

“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front. “I’m trying to focus here!”

(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving. But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.

“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second. Do you even care?”

“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered

“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now. “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”

“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.

It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.

“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted. It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out. “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.

Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.

“(y/n)...” He said softly. “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in. “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.

“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.

“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.

They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them. And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.

“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.

His eyes flickered over her battered face. The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now. He couldn’t believe he let this happen.

“...protect you” He answered lamely.

“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving. “From what?”

“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.

“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head. “I’m alright, I will be anyways. You don’t have to worry so much about me-”

“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry. I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”

She giggled again, and rose a brow.

“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”

“I love you, okay?” He told her.

She choked.

“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”

She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.

“You- you’re- um-”

“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”

His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way. She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.

She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his. It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.

Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real. No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him. Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?

But it was real, she was kissing him. And it was… wow it was great.

She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.

They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.

Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.

Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.

“What. The. Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat. “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”

“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.

“You have! You’ve been frenching!”

“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes. “Dustin, shut up”

“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front. “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”

“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic. “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”

His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.

“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”

(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure. In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place. Well, she hoped it would anyways.

He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.

“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him. “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”

He chuckled, but shook his head at her.

“No one’s dying, we had a deal”

She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips. And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.

“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.

The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before. (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.

All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler fanfiction #mike wheeler scenario #mike wheeler imagine #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

2K notes · View notes

spacedikut · 3 years

Text

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #genuinely if anyone reads this and has suggestions on how i can improve as a writer #and maybe as a person in general #pls message me #something about this feels OFF and i cant tell what

810 notes · View notes

superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here!

Donate to Higher Ground HERE!

Song for this Chapter - (X)

A/N: Posted a day early because a few people asked me to, I think y’all are going to like this chapter :)

* “So what’s your pick (Y/N/N)?”

* You turn to your right, seeing Tyler’s grinning face.

* “Pick for what?” You take another modest sip from your glass.

* Conner’s throwing a party at his house since his parents will be gone all weekend.

* Half the school must be here, his house is almost as big as the Cullen’s

* Tyler exchanges a look with Conner and Mike and grins.

* The three of you and Angela are sitting in his Dad’s study, drinking his finest brandy

* You’ve just been taking very small polite sips to throw off any suspicions

* The upside to being a vampire: you can’t taste anything other than blood so the alcohol just tastes like water

* The downside: you stay drunk until you force yourself to throw it up

* “F*ck, Marry, Kill: me, Conner, and Mike.”

* You wrinkle your nose and Angela laughs

* “Gross questions like that are why I don’t sit with you guys at lunch anymore.” The others laugh and you take a sip of you drink as Tyler grins

* “It’s a game, everyone’s gone except you”

* Have they? You’ve been pretty tuned out, Jessica and Bella left to go to the bathroom like 20 minutes ago.

* To add, you haven’t seen either Edward, Emmett, or Rosalie since you all came together in the jeep.

* Things are still...different between you and Edward

* He’s not outwardly hostile towards you or anything but...

* He doesn’t smile at you anymore

* Not like he used to, with that carefree boyish grin

* Just thinking about it gets you down

* You were fairly surprised when he said he would come with you, Rosalie and Emmett to Conner’s party.

* You were less surprised when he basically abandoned you as soon as you got into the house

* You’ve been trying to see if you can hear any of your friends in the house but you haven’t been able to distinguish any voices yet

* You sigh, holding your drink out to Mike

* “Marry,” the bright grin on his face almost makes you feel bad.

* “Kill, kill” your drink sways as you point to Tyler and Conner.

* Another roar of laughter

* “Hey that’s not fair, you can’t kill both of us!” Tyler protests, you roll your eyes moving to stand

* “Fine F*ck Conner, kill Tyler. Angela you wanna come with I’m going to the bathroom”

* You want to go see what’s holding Jessica and Bella up, but you don’t want to leave Angela alone with three boys.

* Mike’s here, and nothing would probably happen, Conner and Tyler are flirts but you like to think they wouldn’t do anything like that.

* Still you don’t want to risk it.

* She nods, gulping down the rest of her drink. Following you out.

* “Did you hear that?! They said they would f*ck me!” You hear Conner shout triumphantly after you’ve closed the door

* “Yeah but they said that they would kill you first, doesn’t count” Mike says, you hear the clink of ice as you assume he pours another drink

* “Oh getting arrogant just because they said they would marry you huh?”

* “Bet he wishes it was Bella who said she would marry him.”

* You roll your eyes holding out your hand to Angela

* “So we don’t get lost.” She smiles as she takes it. You have to practically slither through the crowd

* Conner’s house is needlessly complicated. Hallways that don’t lead anywhere and so many closets.

* The O’Malleys really should have hired Esme to design their house

* “Ah, there they are!” You see Jessica and Bella leaning against the railing of the second floor. It looks like they’re talking to someone-

* Oh it’s Edward

* Jessica notices you and works her way over to you

* But your eyes are glued to Edward and Bella, they haven’t even noticed you yet. Or that Jessica left them.

* Bella’s eyes are twinkling as she looks up at him, her cheeks are tinged pink, and Edward-

* He’s got a sparkle in his eye, his mouth quirked in that boyish lopsided grin.

* So that smile is really just for her now

* They really do look good together

* “Hey what’s wrong?” You didn’t even notice Jessica was standing in front of you.

* Are you crying right now? No of course not, you can’t cry.

* “Nothing! We were looking for you and Lauren. Mike and Tyler are playing this game that I think you two would be very into” you give her a sly wink and she blushes

* “I thought we came to go to the bathroom.” Oh sh*t you did use that as your excuse.

* “Well I didn’t wanna be obvious yknow?” You say to Angela, catching another glimpse of Bella and Edward behind her, looks like she’s laughing at something he said. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

* You turn your attention back to Angela who’s nodding.

* “Jessica why don’t you show her where it is, you just went right?” Jessica’s eyebrows thread together

* “Yeah I did but-“ she doesn’t want to leave you alone. Before you can reassure her you’ll be fine you feel someone throw their arms around you

* For a second your heart skips a beat.

* Edward?

* “Oh my god babes you look so cute, we have to take a picture together!”

* Oh it’s just Lauren

* Wait why are you disappointed? This is perfect.

* “Of course I was just looking for you!” You nod to Jessica and Angela. “We’ll meet you both back at Conner’s dad’s home office.”

* Jessica gives you a reluctant look but nods, leading Angela into the crowd.

* You take one last glance at Edward and Bella, from here he almost looks human.

* This is the way things are supposed to be.

* “Hey Lauren, wanna do some shots?”

* Lauren has her faults, but she’s always down for anything you might suggest. It’s kind of weird, but she reminds you a little of Alec.

* So you’re a little impressed when she finds a several bottles of vodka hidden in a various books.

* “Conner’s mom has a drinking problem, shhhhh don’t tell anyone”

* Yeah you kinda figured

* “We brought vodka!!” She shouts when she enters the study earning cheers from the rest of the boys.

* Looks like Jessica and Angela aren’t back yet.

* Lauren stole your spot on the armchair so she could flirt with Tyler. You sigh sitting carefully on top of the desk.

* “You leave with one girl and come back with another, how do you do it?” Conner’s got a devilish grin as he leans in to ask you.

* You drink straight from the bottle.

* You’re going to play a drinking game, anytime any of these boys try’s to flirt with you you take a drink.

* “I’m really hot.” You say bluntly

* Conner and Mike laugh

* “Yeah-I mean, yeah you definitely are.” Mike stutters

* If you were human you would probably be nervous by this situation, you’re basically sitting on the desk between Mike and Conner. Mike is on the end of the sofa, and Conner is sitting next to you in the office chair.

* But now that you’re a vampire, you could kill both of these boys with a simple flick of your wrist

* “So what’s going on between you and Cullen really?” Mike asks and you remember the look on Edward’s face when he was talking to Bella.

* “Nothing, we’re just friends” even less than that at this point. You’re just someone who lives in his house

* you’re worried they’re going to press further on the issue and all the emotions you’ve kept sealed away will come out overflowing.

* But they don’t, maybe Conner senses somethings happened because instead he says:

* “So you would f*ck me huh?” You laugh

* “Oh my god are you still stuck on that?”

* “And you said you would marry me?” Mike is grinning so wide he’s actually grinning.

* “You guys are ridiculous.” You’re laughing so hard you cover your mouth.

* “Alright, out of the entire friend group, f*ck, marry, kill, who are your picks?” Conner leans a bit closer, you wonder if he’s been eating healthier lately, he doesn’t smell nearly as bad as he used to.

* It’s still pretty bad, but now there’s a sweeter herbal undertone

* “Hmmm you guys go first I have to think” you lightly shove Conner by the shoulder and he actually rolls back a bit.

* “Alright hmmm-“ he rubs his chin in mock thought “well marry you of course-“

* “Of course” you nod taking another swig of Vodka

* “F*ck Mike”

* “What?” Mike is genuinely flustered and you grin

* “It’s that golden retriever vibe he gives off right?” You say and Conner nods

* “Exactly! Also he looks like a good cuddler.”

* “Definitely a little spoon”

* “Definitely”

* Mike looks like he’s going to combust from the attention from how red his face is.

* “Kill.... I guess kill Edward, the less competition the better” Conner gives you a meaningful look

* Well you don’t know how to feel about that so you just take another swig of Vodka. The more you drink the easier it’ll come out later right?

* “Your turn Mike.”

* “Marry Bella-“

* “Of course” you and Conner say in unison, clinking your bottle to his glass after you do.

* “Fuck you, kill Edward”

* “Damn no love for Edward at all huh?” You say with a gasp of surprise.

* You’re a little annoyed he didn’t pick Jessica.

* You like Bella and all, and her shy bookworm thing is kinda cute, but Jessica is clearly the superior choice.

* “Don’t deflect now that it’s your turn.” Conner lightly bumps your knee against yours

* Wait when did he move from the chair and sit beside you on the desk?

* You roll your eyes and take another swig of vodka

* “Marry Jessica,” they both sputter at that, Conner actually spits out his drink mid gulp.

* Ew Gross.

* “Fuck Conner, Kill Mike.”

* Conner does a fist pump and Mike looks genuinely hurt.

* “I’m sorry Mike but it’s either marriage or kill, there’s no in between.”

* Mike pouts, before sitting up straighter

* “I bet I’m a better kisser than Conner.”

* You take a long drink of Vodka

* “No way dude, you and I both used to date Lauren and I don’t think she would have dated me again after you if you were a better kisser”

* “That was in middle school! I had braces back then!”

* “Yeah, that’s why you’re so bad at kissing.” Conner says matter of factly taking a sip of his Dad’s brandy straight from the decanter

* “No, I had to lea-“

* “Oh my god would you both shut up?” You shout and let out a huff of annoyance before reaching out and grabbing Mike by the collar of his shirt, tugging him forward

* Your lips meet his briefly, your eyes are closed, and his are open. He adjust to the situation quickly, cupping your cheek and tilting his head slightly

* Not bad

* You break away, turning to Conner, he’s a bit more ready than Mike. He cups your face with both hands, mouth parting slightly as one of his hands slides into your hair.

* You break away sweetly, with one last peck.

* “Conner’s better” you say the bottle of vodka already on your lips. Conner’s laughing while Mike protests.

* “What-no, I wasn’t ready, I want another chance!” You roll your eyes as he looks at you expectantly

* “Fin-“ he breaks you off with his lips, this time is better than the last. He’s standing, and the angle adds to the technique, his hand is on the back your neck, tilting your chin up with the other

* Oh wow.

* You’re a little dazzled when you break apart. Jessica is one lucky girl.

* “Wait if he gets another chance I want one too.” Conner protests, you just nod dumbly.

* That was a really good kiss. You feel all warm and fuzzy.

* Before you can think Conner wraps an arm around your waist tugging you close, he dips you back before kissing you. You open your mouth from the surprise and he takes the opportunity to sweep his tongue in.

* You’re seeing stars, and then abruptly you’re yanked by the shoulder.

* Oh does Mike want another turn?

* Without even opening your eyes you kiss the person who pulled on your shoulder.

* These lips feel different then Mike’s, almost-sticky? Or is it slippery? They smell different too like boiled broccoli-

* Oh shit

* You hesitantly open your eyes, only to see a very shocked Jessica

* “Oh my god” you pull back quickly, cupping your hand over your mouth so you don’t kiss anyone else by accident “I’m so sorry Jess- I didn’t-“

* Before you can finish someone tugs your arm, you vaguely understand what’s happening, one of your arms grasped by a very strong hand and your other carrying a bottle of vodka.

* It’s Edward, you recognize the blue collared shirt he’s wearing, you bought him that shirt last year for his birthday.

* “E-Edward? Wait where-“ you turn to the side to see Jessica who’s standing very still, your eyes briefly meet Bella’s and they flash with-hurt?

* What did you kiss her too when you weren’t paying attention?

* “H-hey Edward that hurts!” If he heard you he doesn’t seem to care, dragging you through the party and through the cluster of people all along the front yard

* You’re vaguely aware of the stares your way. You both must look pretty weird, or at least like a couple of kids dying to f*ck

* All you can see when you look straight forward is Edward’s back. His broad shoulders and the slender curve of his back.

* For some reason, the safest place you can imagine is the middle of Edward’s back. You bet it’s so warm and safe to be nestled there.

* You bet it’s the place Bella feels the most safe in

* A prickle of irritation burns in you. And in your impatience when Edward starts to slow you wrap your arms around his waist-

* “(Y/N), what are you-“ He grumbles, but you don’t pay it any mind, you nestle your head in his back, right below the spot between his shoulder blades. Breathing his scent in deeply.

* Edward always smells so good, like Argon oil and Rosemary

* You feel him sigh, his hand resting over yours that are intertwined on his stomach

* You stay like that for a moment, you’re not sure how long, it might have been hours

* But it feels too soon when Edward pulls away from you.

* The whine of protest that’s building in the back of your throat dies when you see his face

* “Hey, what’s wrong, why are you upset?” A hand lifts to cradle Edward’s face. His mouth is pinched into a frown and his eyes... they look so sad

* Your compassion only seems to irritate him further because he shakes your hand off of his face

* You’re a little hurt, and very confused

* “What were you doing in there?” You can tell from the way his voice trembles he’s barely contains his anger

* “We were playing a game” you say in a small voice. Edward gives out a bitter laugh

* “And what game was that, spin the bottle?”

* “Who’s the better kisser actually” you mumble, looking down at your shoes feeling a little embarrassed

* “You can’t even imagine the vile thoughts they were-“ he cuts himself off, averting his gaze from you

* You feel like a bucket of cold water got dumped on you

* They’re your friends. You were just having a good time. It was all just harmless fun wasn’t it?

* oh god you kissed Jessica! Jessica your best friend.

* How are supposed to face her now

* “Have you been drinking?” He asks, tugging the bottle hanging limply from between your fingers.

* It’s almost empty, less than a quarter left.

* “H-hey I didn’t drink all of that, Lauren drank quite a bit too, and I’m pretty sure it was already half empty when we got it.” Edward raises an eyebrow and you avert your eyes. You’ve going through too much to handle facing him head on.

* “(Y/N), what’s going on, this isn’t like you” He let’s out a long sigh.

* Why did you drink so much?

* Maybe if he wasn’t so wrapped up in that human he would realize-

* Realize what? Where was that sentence going?

* You remember seeing Edward and Bella talk, the smile he gave her-

* No you can’t think about that right now

* “Nothing’s going on,” he looks at you skeptically and you look back to the ground “I just-I just want you to be happy Eddie.”

* He scoffs

* “You have a funny way of showing it.” He’s about to move back but your hand reaches out to stop him, resting on his forearm

* “No I really want you to be happy Edward, and I see the way you look at her-“

* “What?”

* “And I want you to know that it’s okay!” Your eyes stay fixed on his chest, the pocket of his shirt. “I know everyone around us, including Carlisle, have been hoping we would end up together, but don’t worry about that. You can say it was me if you need to, and-“

* He stops you by placing both of his hand on your face, your eyes meeting his.

* “What are you talking about?”

* This time you’re the one that scoffs

* “Bella of course,” he lets out some noise of disbelief, a mix of a scoff and a snicker

* “Bella? You think I love Bella?” He’s laughing at you! The criminal is laughing at you!

* “Im not stupid Edward!”

* “When have I ever said I have feelings for Bella?”

* “You don’t have to! I see the way you look at her! Like just now-when you were up by the stairwell, you looked at her like she was the only person in the room.”

* He doesn’t scoff now and he averts his eyes. You feel your heart sink a little.

* It’s okay, this is for the best.

* Bella’s going to give him everything he wants.

* Even a baby.

* You can’t give him that.

* “Oh my god Bella! She probably has the totally wrong idea! We have to go back, we have to-“ you’re already moving when you feel Edward grasp your arm, holding you back.

* Your eyebrows thread together in confusion

* “Edward what are you doing? We have to-“

* “I don’t love Bella” he interrupts.

* You’re confused, and then you’re angry.

* Is he lying to you? Straight to your face after you’ve already told him you know everything? Why even bother? What is he trying to save his pride or something, because you’re 100% sure that Bella’s feeling it just as much as he is

* “You don’t need to lie to me Edward-“

* “I’m not lying!” He tugs you closer, the bottle of vodka falling to the ground with a clang.

* You’re caged in his arms, each of his hands is holding your by the elbow. His gold eyes look straight into yours

* “There’s only one person I’ve ever loved,” a gentle smile curls onto his mouth. “They’re impossibly stubborn, when they get an idea in their mind. And they have no sense of self preservation whatsoever.”

* This sounds like Bella. Is this a trick or something?

* His eyes get warm as he looks down at you, his lips twitching as his smile widens

* “But they’re also very compassionate, they’re someone with endless amounts of hope, and everything around them is so-different- so fun! They make me feel....”

* he’s been inching closer this entire time, your chest is practically pressed against his.

* “Human” he finishes with a grin

* His forehead presses against yours and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach.

* “I’m in love with you, (Y/N), it’s always been you.”

* Before you have time to process the bombshell Edward just dropped on you, Edward moves an inch closer and places his lips over your own.

* Your eyes are open at first, mostly from shock, but they drift close when Edward’s hand trails down the edge of you face, resting on your cheek.

* His kiss is so different from Mike and Conner’s kisses.

* Their kiss had been passionate, almost possessive.

* But Edward’s kiss- his kiss makes you feel safe.

* His hand rests on the small of your back, the other lightly touches the side of your face.

* It’s firm, but you know if you didn’t like his touch, if you wanted it to stop, you could end it anytime.

* He’s leaving you an escape

* He’s still your Edward, Your kind, considerate Edward.

* If you were human tears would prickle the corner of your eyes.

* Instead you stand on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him in even closer.

* You’re seeing stars when he finally pulls away, and in your daze you actually follow him, stealing one last peck.

* You stand tall, looking straight into his eyes, he’s got the biggest goofiest grin you’ve ever seen

* Even goofier than the one he had when you said you would move with him to Forks.

* “Um, so how was I compared to Mike and Connor?”

* You roll your eyes, he’s still trying to lighten the mood with dumb jokes

* You doubt he needs you to answer. He knows you loved it. He’s so happy he’s glowing. You feel almost feel dizzy looking at him.

* And there’s a million things you want to say to him, but you don’t say any of them.

* Instead you lean over and puke all over his shoes.

* “That bad huh?”

BONUS:

* “Was it just me, or were they like really cold?” Mike asks, his lips still feel a little numb

* “Yeah, but I kind of liked it, it’s like ice play.” Conner grins, and then spares a glance to his friend “How you doing over there Jess thinking of coming down anytime soon?”

* Jessica’s got the widest goofiest grin on her face, her fingers trailing her lips every so often.

* Bella sits beside her with her mouth pinched into a frown

* “It’s always the blonde’s that have all the fun” She mumbles

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10 @alluring-venus @imdoingathingmom

#twilight #twilight imagine #twilight saga #twilight headcanon #twiligh reader insert #edward cullen #edward cullen imagine #Edward Cullen x reader #bella swan #bella swan imagine #bella swan x reader #mike newton #mike newton x reader #conner twilight #cullen imagine #superhero--imagines #midnight sun

540 notes · View notes

billiejeanenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Boobiegate masterpost

We know what they did this summer - and oh boy, was a it a wild summer that - unfortunately for us - stretched into autumn and beyond any reason.

I will first go over everything as it happened and then - because when you look back at everything you realise some timelines overlap - I’ll try to clarify some stuff and put it into perspective.

NOTE: I’m writing the dates from a GMT time zone point of view (aka. UK time)

So let’s start from the beginning.

Briana breaks up with Brody Jenner after dating him for some random attention seeking period. (June-September roughly)

Here’s an article talking about that irrelevant relationship. https://www.yourtango.com/2020334835/who-brody-jenner-girlfriend-briana-jungwirth-louis-tomlinson-baby-mama Now let’s fast forward a bit to September.

September 23rd

So on September 23rd we’re flooded with articles about Brody and Bri breaking up and Bri getting back together with her “on-again off-again (boy)friend Nick” and the biggest surprise “BRI IS ENGAGED”

So the story is:

Bri ended her relationship with Brody because “they were moving too fast” and he had “already met Freddie”

She then gets back together with her on-again, off-again bf Nick Gordon

She, her family, and Nick go on a “whirlwind” trip to Las Vegas (MIND YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A PANDEMIC)

Bri and Nick get engaged during those Covid inviting few days in Vegas (September 21st- September 23rd)

Articles drop about how they’re engaged and she’s broken up with Brody (Sept 23rd)

Bri, family and Nick all share a huge amount of Vegas pictures of them in love, Bri’s ring, Bri and Nick being a couple (pictures obviously taken before Vegas to hopefully make someone believe that this in no way is a whirlwind engagement after just knowing each other a few weeks. Did they convince anyone? Well if you are convinced - I’m worried for you)

Here’s the tmz article:https://www.tmz.com/2020/09/23/brody-jenner-split-briana-jungwirth-engaged/ Here’s some pics of them we were all subjected to while they were in Vegas. And Nick’s new public profile when it just got made. Was he trying to start an influencer career and say goodbye to being a firefighter? Was he trying to get a night job taking off that all firefighter gear for money? Magic mike was a big movie after all….Who knows.

September 28th

At first the engagement pictures on Nick’s IG were just him and Briana and he used the #/shesaidyes. After a few days and probably after they realised it would be a smart move to acknowledge her kid she claims to have too (👀) he deleted those and on September 28th posted new pictures with a new caption and new # of course. This time “theysaidyes”.

The pictures are below.

But, moving on.

As soon as the engagement news drops, we have Nick - our “good-guy firefighter” making a new and public IG account, flooding it with pictures where he professes his love for Bri and soaking up the d-list association fame.

So in the coming weeks we get a lot of Nick, Bri and their families on IG. They post a lot about being constantly together.

What was the most interesting they really pushed the “dad” image on Nick. He was constantly posting about Freddie and even in Bs or Tammi’s stories he was always seen interacting with F the most.

Then after it seemed like the new fiancees had settle into their soon-to-be married life and everything seemed rosy for them - we get hit with the whammy BOOBIEGATE.

Because hell hath no fury like a sugar daddy scorned.

October 15th

On the 15th of October celebtm a gossip site, posts the next picture and caption on IG:

Basically, they’re saying a guy - his name unknown yet - contacted them to tell them how Briana scammed him out of money she borrowed to get a boob job. Specifically 5k USD. He claims he filed the case in court and it’s dated January.

They ask if anyone else has similar receipts or anything about her and that they’re investigating and will be writing a story. And the comments have a lot to say about Bri.

October 19th

4 days later on October 19th celebtm posts another IG update about how they have the court filing and how their article is in progress.

October 21st

2 days after the last IG post celebtm finally posts their article - on the 21st of October

https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-briana-jungwirth-sued-over-boob-job/

(It’s on the web still - if it ever gets deleted let me know I have screen recordings of it)

The article is accompanied by this (below) IG post:

Also on this day we get Briana and Nick deactivating their IG profiles. Nick still kept his personal private IG and the only person who stayed public is Tammi.

October 22nd

A day after the article dropped there’s another IG post with the following picture and caption. Apparently, Sugar Daddy shared his receipts - specifically AmEx - with celebtm.

October 26th

On October 26th celebtm posts the second part of the article. It’s messier, with a more confusing timeline than the first, but tries to “spill” more details on Sugar Daddies relationship with Briana and her life in general.

Also by now we know his name - Michael Strauss. An investor in Warwick club in LA.

https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-baby-mama-briana-jungwirth-double-life/

(Again this is the link - if the article gets taken down and you want to see it - DM me)

October 27th

Then a day later we get another IG post - no new article - just more excerpts from what the Sugar Daddy told celebtm.

Then it’s quiet for a few days and when you think this can’t get even more trashy - low and behold the circus that is called October 29th.

October 29th

So after a few days of silence celebtm strikes again, but this time they bring in TV’s most loved judge - Judge Judy. Apparently the TV show was willing to take this litigation and air it as an episode.

As always, they post an IG post and a caption, and the article mentioned in the IG caption below is basically an article written for clicks about Louis and Harry because they saw the larrie part of the fandom was getting them clicks. I’ll leave the link to the article here for documentation purposes, but honestly there’s nothing in there worth giving them clicks for. Not a thing. The title of the article is “A Complete Guide to 1D Members Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles’ Rumoured Relationship”

Article: https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-harry-styles-relationship/

November 6th

We see the sudden return from social media exile of Bri to IG. She’s back - with a post and the description ironically saying “I’m back”. I refuse to post it because does anyone really want to look at her face-tuned selfies?

November 9th

Then after weeks of radio silence, the return of Bri to IG, we get what is apparently the - very underwhelming - like Bri’s boobs to Sugar Daddy who never got to see them - conclusion to this Sugar Daddy drama. This following article which is basically a letter from Michael to Briana telling her how he’s giving up on the lawsuit, taking this as a life lesson and how he hopes no one else falls for her scams. Article below:

https://celebmagazine.com/michael-straus-briana-jungwirth-open-letter-to-one-direction-louis-tomlinson-alleged-baby-mama/

(Again this is the link - if the article gets taken down and you want to see it - DM me)

And of course - the article is accompanied by an IG post by celebtm.

So, here we currently are. After watching that circus show no one wanted not paid for (well except the Sugar Daddy, and he didn’t even get to see the thing he paid for - so sad.) we’re in November and the Jungwirths and company are back to their carefree posting on IG.

Current status:

The lawsuit seems to have been dropped.

Everything seems to be in process of being swept under the rug.

Nick - the loving fiancee - is back to IG too. All of his happy, loving pictures with Bri still up (some deleted) - so we must assume their love survived Boobiegate.

As for overlapping timelines:

The timelines overlap mostly during the months March-October with it being said Bri dated Brody, but was also taking money from Boobie Daddy who was helping her during the pandemic, and was later also apparently starting a serious relationship with Nick.

What actually went on - I don’t know. And I’m honestly not interested to find out. This is being mentioned just so anyone coming across this post knows that yes - you didn’t read it wrong - the timelines do overlap with different people saying different things and Bri being tied to all three men at those times without any real clear timeline for the relationships.

So far this is all there is to this mess. If there’s more - I’ll do a part two or addition.

I’d like to end this with saying - these masterposts are 95% just me making them for myself because I forget stuff, and so much goes on in the fandom that if I want to keep up with it all, I need a nice timeline for things. I’m posting this for anyone wanting to make sense of this circus too or just to put it into a timeline. I did fact check all the dates, posts, IG pics, links and so on - but mistakes can happen - if there is one feel free to let me know.

#boobiegate #bri #masterpost

646 notes · View notes

songbirdstyles · 3 years

Text

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly.

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp.

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do.

The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry?

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record.

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends.

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants.

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

~~~

The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off, waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd.

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles drabble #harry styles one shot #im sure im going to regret starting this as a series and not trying to make it one long piece #but honestly??#im working on another fic right now so i just want the beginnings of this to be out there #i hope u enjoy

853 notes · View notes

soullessmocha · 3 years

Text

i think; therefore i am || part one

{ fem! witch reader x poly!the lost boys }

|| part two ||

part rating: teen

word count: 20716 (i am so sorry)

part summary: a nomadic witch running from her dark past (reader) finds her place after travelling the states on the shores of santa carla. in a way to make money she sets up a booth on the bustling boardwalk where she gives a few readings to a couple interesting characters for some loose change. this night she discovers she isn’t the only supernatural being.

warnings: mature language, mind manipulation, violence, use of tobacco, a cute familiar, nightmares, allusions to being burned alive, witch trials, hints to major character death, visions, and the lost boys being violent (mainly david.), this has not been proof read it has merely been skimmed.

“I promise I will be good. Please mother!” You yell towards the cloaked woman who looked at you with a disdained look on features. Features you once found comforting and like home turned on you in an instant. Those soft features are now rigid and gaunt from stress and aging, but the worse link to all the features was the cobalt blue eyes. Eyes that reflected the moon so sharply that it was almost mirrored. Eyes so sharp and focused as your mother shook her in disappointment, “No, you won’t,” her words were forthright showing no emotion behind it. How did someone who you called your mother betray you and not even take a second glance? “No, no! Wait! No, I promise!” You start to trash against the rope that is wrapped around your body, confining you to a large wooden pole. Stretching your body to its breaking point as the only color you could see was red. Then it was hot, burning, seething your skin away as one of your sisters lowers a torch at your feet. Your eyes connect to the moon as your throat lashes a blood-curdling scream into the starry clear night.

Gasping for the air you shoot up from your makeshift bed, sweating coating your skin in a glossy layer. Your lungs rapidly gasp for air as they burn from your fears that have your heart racing so much it punches your ribs. A shift in the bed causes your attention to shift. Your cat, a scruffy black devon rex steals his way up the side of your bed. His head tilting before making his own way into your lap a loud purr radiating off of your pet in his best attempts to calm you. You lift a shaky hand to plop it down on the cat’s back who tenses for a quick second before stretching his paws to your chest, reminding you to breathe. A slight smile comes to your lips, “I’m fine, Finn. Really,” you sigh and rub away the hair sticking on your face from the layer of sweat on your skin. “It’s always the same nightmare.” You admit to your furry friend who makes his way to the tail end of your bed. He stretched and tipped his nose upwards as his spine curled sniffing the air as if he was trying to investigate the surrounding area. With your heart rate slowed just the slightest you pull yourself from your bed and shuffle through the hallway that leads from your bedroom to your living space in the trailer you parked on the cliff overlooking the beach. The sun was setting, casting an orange hue in your trailer, the light catchers reflecting rainbows as they twirl mindlessly from the free breeze coming through the cracked window. Peace. That was a safe haven. However, with the sun setting you realize you have taken a nap when least expected. You must’ve needed it after the first night of working on the boardwalk. Who knew reading tarot, runes, and palms to tourists would take so much energy out of you.

A sigh escapes your lips as you attempt to step around Finn to get to your closet where you pick a black outfit with an ornate shawl to help you stand out.

“Be good and protect the home,” you kneel down to scratch Finn under his chin after you have gathered your last-minute things and open the trailer door to have it close behind you. A quiet meow echoes from behind the door and your smirk at the small goodbye from your pet. It didn’t take you long to start up your old truck with a few hits and a couple pumps for the clutch to make your way down to the boardwalk parking lot.

The night was the same as before but this time a couple of well rounded security guards started to come up to the booth later on into the evening. The wind was a bit harsher and the waves crashed in rhythm of the music that was being played on the tiny radio next to your ankle. The boardwalk was filled with all strains of life. There were well rounded individuals taking their picture perfect families for a night out to teens dressed in all black with every inch of their face covered in piercing and colored hair. You preferred that crowd. Then again it didn’t help to get money from those picture perfect families who you only give half ass readings for. When the heavy boots of the literal rounded security officers approached your booth were you snapped from your thoughts. Looking them up and down you can instantly get a feel of their energy, they were hostile and annoyed by the night already. Yet the night was still so young.

“Excuse me, do you have a permit to be setting up your booth here?” The officer with the mustache questions shifting his weight onto one leg jutting out his hip.

“Yeah, you need a vendor permit to even set up here on the boardwalk,” the skinnier one of the couple started before picking at the cloth of your booth, studying it with a devious smirk. “You tell fortunes? Tell me how we are going to kick you off the boardwalk.” The two chuckle at the joke yet in a calm manner you stand with your hands on the ornate cloth.

“I do tell fortunes, but not those who tend hurt others because they have a flimsy gold badge on their breast,” you start and give a rather deceiving smile as you tilt your head. “I do not have a vendor’s permit to be out here. However, I am sure you know how hard it is to make a living during these times. Surely you can give me a pass.” You suggest and the fatter one with the mustache snickered at your suggestion. The two looked at one another but as they looked back at you they were met with purple hazed eyes and fingers that were pointed at them which radiated purple energy. “Now, I hope you will listen to me,” you begin this time your voice was an octave deeper as you displayed your abilities to them. It wasn’t hard to sink into their minds and be able to control such a feeble psyche, the purple illuminating from their eyes indicated you were in. You didn’t even need to chant a hex to even get them to repeat after you, “I will not approach this vendor anymore.” They repeat and a smirk quivers on the corner of your lips, “I will not terrorize anyone who I deem… different. I will walk away now and forget I ever saw this vendor.” Once they repeat you flick your wrist the two men turn on their heels and quite literally march away to whatever other duties they have. You grumble to yourself as you sit back down pushing the skirt under you so you can sit properly on the chair.

As you adjust your trinkets and cards on the table you can hear from afar an excited young boy's voice, “Mike! Look! It’s a fortune teller. We have to do this!”

“No Sammy, we said we would go to the concert and meet mom back at the entrance. I am not stopping for some phoney fortune teller who just reads some useless cards to tell me literally nothing.” the older voice replies back with an annoyed tone and quite ready to walk in the opposite direction. You don’t look up to give the hint you are listening, in fact you lean back in your chair starting to shuffle your tarot deck because indeed you know the two will end up before you.

“Well too bad. I came here to have fun and you’re ruining it. Live a little Mike. You’ve been grumpy all day,” pouts the young blonde, “plus I didn’t say you needed to get a reading done. i got my own money.”

“How did you get money?”

“I stole it from your wallet!” The younger one laughs and charges his way over to the booth and you make eye contact with him, his grin was wide and full of innocence. Blue eyes that were striking amongst the moonlight, they glimmered with hope and curiosity. “Dammit Sam!” the older one whom you assumed to be the brother charges behind. “Hi, how can I help you today?” You asks in your kindest customer service voice. The young boy holds out the ten dollar bill, “I would like a reading if I could have one please. Mom always told us about her tarot card readings, but I would like one for myself.” He grins to the side as he looks over his shoulder to his older brother, a brunette with a strong build who seems to already be annoyed just standing next to this booth and his brother. “Why of course, thank you! Take a seat please.” You request and glance over to the older brother, “If you’d like a seat by all means sit.” He didn’t respond, only took a glance at you before looking away. He was skeptical and nervous. Of course he was. “Normally I don’t do readings for such young gentlemen like you, but I like you already, so I will do a general reading. Now before I get started, may I have your name?”

“Sam,”

“Nice to meet you Sam, I am Y/N. Thank you once again,” you grant a thanks and start to shuffle your cards. Normally with normal individuals the cards don’t have this much energy. You give a breathy chuckle and shuffle fiercely before a card flies from the deck. You plant it face down before looking young Sam in the eyes giving him a playful smirk at his eagerness. “You two have a lot of energy for you, that’s a good thing.” You compliment but the older brother just snickers and crosses his arm before another card flies out. It didn’t take long for the third to fly out. You align the cards, “Alright let’s see here, this card represents you. The page of cups,” You smile gingerly at the card before flipping it to show the boy. “You are filled with wonder, you love your family and have a curious nature to you.” You can see the boy is looking at the card with curious eyes. Take in the fancy man holding a golden chalice balance on one foot and his heel. He is dressed in quite jarring clothes like the boy sitting in front of you. “You also love to express yourself in ways that are creative, like your fashion, or music.” You not before hovering your hand over the next card. “This card represents the path you are on," you flip over the card to see the emperor standing sitting on his throne high and mighty, “the emperor. Now this card is quite powerful, one of my favorites. You are on the path of seeking how to defend yourself and those you love. How to become more powerful in the sense of trying to find structure and to grow in your sense of logic and practicality.” At this point you didn’t even notice the older brother has now sat down. Full attention on you and the cards. You give him a wink before turning your attention back to his younger brother, “It seems like you’re trying to find a father figure role within yourself or by others.” The boys' features soften from a grin to a saddened look, that must’ve struck a bit too close for home. “Let’s continue, shall we?” You ask and he slowly nods glancing over at his brother. You carefully flip over the last card, “This card represents your potential,” your eyes glance down at the justice card. The figure holds a sword and a scale in each hand, sitting on a chair with authority as a scarlet drape is behind them. “Justice. You know what it’s like to be wronged, treated unfairly, you will have to face the truth soon. Whatever that truth is, you have to see everything from each point of view. Going back to the Emperor, you need to be logical and work on that skill in order to find your Justice. You will generate peace and harmony to those who surround you.”

“Wow, thank you, that’s- that’s awesome,” Sam thanks you leaning back in the folded chair carefully eyeing his brother who was staring diligently at the card, studying them and seeming astounded. You lean forward and tap the table under his nose. “I can do a reading for you as well, free of charge. I like your little brother. However, I would like your name.”

The blue eyed brunette looked up at you with wide eyes, filled with wonder and trying to read your own eyes. “Michael. My name is Michael,” you smile at his name and gather the cards back into your pile. You shuffle in the bustling white noise of the busy boardwalk. A card flies out and lands face down on the table. You shuffle until two more fall from the pile. “Alright Michael, let’s see who the cards say you are.” Your black painted fingers flip over the first card to be greeted by the figure of archangel Michael blowing on his trumpet as the words read ‘judgement’. “You are going through a new journey, a new beginning. You are starting anew. You also find comfort in sharing your struggles with others who relate and you want freedom from your own troubles. Then we have,” You start flipping over the second card, “the ten of swords.” You whisper and you glance up to see his worried eyes look at the pictured body stabbed by ten swords pinned to the ground. “Don’t overthink it.” You whisper ducking your head to make eye contact with him, trying your nest to make him feel safe. “You're going to be betrayed by someone you begin to trust. The pain inflicted runs deep not because what they have done is hurtful, but because you know deep down that this marks the end of your relationship as you know it with them. You will grieve the loss of the relationship. This card is about letting go and accepting your circumstances.” There was silence between the two, you could hear a pin drop if one was to.

“It’s a warning,” you say and clear your throat to ease the tension a bit. You flip over the last card to show the lovers card. “The lovers,” you smile longingly at the card, “you will be ready to establish your own beliefs and follow your heart in the end. You will find love for yourself but love will also find you. In every choice you make on your path, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. I am excited for you to find your other half.” A warm smile comes to your lips but there was wary to the middle card, that card showed the journey he was going to begin was going to something dark. The clapping of a hand on someone’s back causes you to jump out of your trance. “Well gentlemen, I hope you got the answers you two were looking for. Thank you for stopping by, if you have any more questions or any more services, I will be here.”

The two respond with weary smiles and slowly get up from their chairs with soft thanks as they continue to make their way down the boardwalk. A twinkle of a smile was left on your lips as you watched them walk away.

Hours later you find yourself with a tip jar that is half full and a bag that contained crumpled bills that were stale and some damp. A sigh leaves your lips as you clean up the station, cleaning up the scrying orb in its case and the tip jar in the bag full of bills. Just before you started to take down your sign you saw four shadows cascade from behind you. A low hum left your lips and you turned on your heel to see four men standing in front of you. Quite young looking, dressed in all black, a couple more than the others. A small smile peaked your lips. “How can I help you gentlemen?” You ask the stoic figures as they stare down at you, purely interested and emitting a strange energy. They’re energy was really strange but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Well we were seeing if it wasn’t too late to get a couple of readings,” the one with the spiked platinum blonde hair responds. His head tilts as he looks into your eyes. For a second you had to look away from the piercing blue eyes because you felt your head go dizzy.

“Of course, what are you looking for? I do tarot, palms, and even runes.” You inform as your make your way to your side of the booth. Your folding chair creaking as you sit on it, your posture upright and alert.

“Well, Marko? Which one do you want? You begged to come over here before they closed.” The platinum spoke up again, you tried to get a read on him, by his upright body language he seemed to be the leader of the little posse. Though you were new to the boardwalk you never really saw them around. How did you miss them? Granted you were new to town, but only by a few weeks.

“I’ll go with a palm reading if it means the cutie gets to hold my hand.” The one name Marko pipes with a chuckle from his peers. You can only roll your eyes playfully to play along, “Well sit down, palm readings start at $10 for that comment.” You tease the curly haired man who skipped to your hair and held out his hands with a snicker following. The fingerless gloves covered most of his palm so you nod your head towards his hands, “May I?” You ask before he responds with a nod and cheesy grin. As you started to slip off his hands your eyes peered over his head to watch his friends behind him. You take in their appearances. The platinum blonde was starting to light a cigarette. The other wild haired blonde was walking forward to admire the trinkets on your booth. While the tall brunette was giving you a cold stare as he watched you take off his friends gloves. Each of them donned a single earring and a jacket that was different to their individuality. You clear your throat and look at Marko, “It is nice to meet you Marko. I hope you find this reading useful and beneficial to you for the future.” You start as you take his cool hand into yours. Overlapping his hand with yours you didn’t mind the cold hands, or think much about it, the night was quite chilly.

You roll your shoulders back and roll your neck to relax. As you did a shock was sent through your nerves and you gasped sharply. As did Marko who received the same energy suddenly, causing a pained groan to leave his throat. The energy surges up to your neck causing you to close your eyes tightly. A vision. Pain. Darkness. Betrayal. You can see through Marko’s eyes. He was in pain and bleeding everywhere. There were inhuman screeches all around him; his friends jolted around in him in disturbance and rage. Then you realized they were hanging upside down. Their faces looked like nothing that they did now. Features were contorted, eyes were bloodshot and yellow, and teeth sharp. Just as your vision ended you felt a stabbing in your chest just like the object in Marko’s chest. A pained yell left your throat. There was an echo of Marko yelling out in pain and incoherent yells of the boys behind him.

You shot Marko away from you with shadows of purple energy following him. The chair shot about six feet from under him and Marko rolled to a stop with the wild blonde following after him in concern.

“What the hell was that?!” The leader booms rushing to your table, his hands grasping the table with a crushing grip. You could hear it crack as you try to catch your breath. The pain was unbearable. “What the hell are you?!” He interrogates again with a sharp tone. This time he threw the table to the side effortlessly. You gasp and stand in response. Your hands fly up in a contorted shape with purple shadows lingers around your fingers. The leader was stuck in his palace, grunting and struggling against your will. Pants leave your parted lips, brows furrowed and pained as you hold back the leader. Exposing your power.

The three other men kneel around their curly haired friend. Your eyes flicker to them, “There is one thing I can’t stand about vampires,” you croak, holding the leader in his place bringing him as you walk closer to the boys. The look on their faces when you announce your knowledge of their supernatural being, now that look was priceless. “They don’t know how to control their temper.” You choke out as purple energy hazed over your eyes. Their eyes widened at the energy around their leader and the shine from your eyes. All of them scramble to their feet.

The brunette was first to act and you were faster to stop him mid run. He was now frozen under your spell. Energy outlining his shape as he looked around frantically. You wipe your hand causing him to fly straight through the railing and far out into the ocean with a purple orb pushing straight into his chest. Then with another flick of your wrist the leader went flying right after the brunette with another orb following to make him go further. Your purple eyes scanned towards the two blondes who looked hostile yet intimidated. Before they could even take a step you waved your arms and contorted hands in front of you, to each of their bodies, with a cross of your arms the two slam into one another with a crushing thud. You push the energy out with your arms and hands and the two blondes went flying far out into the ocean following their peers with purple orbs pushing into their chests.

You were left there on the dark boardwalk, cascaded under orange street lamps, panting with purple shadows flowing around your eyes and glowing in your eyes. Your adrenaline pumping through your veins caused your breathing to become ragged. It took a beat for your breathing to return to normal. You slid your stance back to normal to show your calming nature. Your hands return to your sides no longer casting purple energy and your eyes are their normal color but still widened in fear. Behind you was your booth table broken in half, your items thrown all about wildly from the wind, and your scrying orb shattered near your feet. Dollar bills flying wildly wherever the ocean breeze takes them.

Taking one last deep breath you tilt your head out towards the crashing onyx waves. The humid breeze thrashing your clothing all about. You press a clammy palm to your forehead as you curse quietly to yourself, “Shit.”

a/n: this is the first part of a series that i have been writing on and off for the past month. i’ve always wanted to incorporate a witch into the lost boys because it would be so interesting! this will be sort of slow burn poly!the lost boys kind of vibe. please let me know if you’d like more of this series. thank you so much for reading!! 🖤🖤🖤

#soulless writes #i think; therefore i am #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #tlb fanfiction #the lost boys fanfiction #poly!the lost boys #poly!the lost boys x reader #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys

191 notes · View notes

hopefullystillatheatrestudent · 3 years

Note

this might be a weird thought but the way jensen performs masculinity (and i KNOW it’s a performance cause like, have you SEEN the mockumentary?) is just.... so inherently queer to me lmao

ok. okokokokokok. you asked for this. i have a LOT of thoughts on this. it’s gonna be under a cut because i’m gonna be annoying and psychoanalyse a celebrity i’ve never met(and hope i never do) but trust and believe when i tell you i know what i’m talking about so

you want my opinion? here goes. there is absolutely no way jensen ackles is straight. i hear you, ‘how do you know that he’s bi? that’s invasive and creepy’ but may i counter that point by saying how do you know he’s straight???? why is the default for everyone heterosexual? that’s a toxic mentality to have; ‘oh you don’t know for sure so just treat him like he’s 100% straight just in case’ like....what? heteronormativity drives me wild i’m sorry

and also, um, just to, um, prove my point that this man is decidedly not straight™(i really don’t want to do this but like it has to be said) we KNOW he’s not straight because his d*ck has spoken for itself around misha, like, four times. I HATE SAYING IT!!!!!!! but, um, straight men don’t get aroused by men. ...do i really need to explain myself further???? that’s what i thought(and don’t give me the ‘it could have been for unrelated reasons’ or ‘that wasn’t a boner!’ crap because um good lord yes it was and misha caused every single one so no it wasn’t a coincidence i’m gonna move on before i collapse into myself like a dying star)

anyway, on to the topic at hand which is jensen and his performative masculinity. and it’s a juicy one.

after the unconscious amount of hours i’ve put into watching and subconsciously judging jackles, i have come to the conclusion that like, 90% of how he presents himself and talks and even moves is an act. it’s a facade. it’s a shield. he is not that person. it actually seems exhausting, because he tries to compose himself in this macho, manly, confident and effortlessly cool way, but he’s not that person he desperately wishes he was and wants to be perceived as. he’s on guard every second, even the slightest tilt of his head is like, pre-meditated in some way? if i’m going FULL body language analyst mode, i’ve noticed he has a certain posture he always shifts himself into, and it’s very ‘pursed lips, stoic faced, gruff voiced, square-shoulder, broad and manly’ but, not to be rude jensen, it kind of reads as a little kid imitating the adults he thinks are cool? oof i am going IN huh(it’s out of love though i promise)

he is trying to be this person at every second:

because that’s who he wishes he was, because that’s how he gets validation from the people around him that he looks up to; straight white guys. but to me, who he presents himself to be at conventions is just as much of a performance as this whole eye of the tiger bit is.

oh i should mention i know his body language isn’t naturally like that because how he naturally carries himself is actually pretty flamboyant? like he seriously must be toning himself down HARD

examples:

there’s no tension in his body here as opposed to the eye of the tiger gif. i’d describe it as...generally loose and free? he’s at ease when he moves like that and you can see it.

oh and dude!!! DUDE!!!! how could i not mention the fucking SPECTACLE that is his voice??? jensen. i watched season one. i know where your voice naturally sits. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE. and there have been so many accounts of fans visiting jensen in his trailer and being surprised that his real voice is two octaves higher. again, his performance of masculinity is all encompassing. he can’t even talk normally because, in his mind, that’s a chink in his armour.

and, like you said, anon, this whole smokes-and-mirrors gong show of ‘i am the cool texan man’ is inherently queer. who are you trying to impress??? guys??? that’s pretty gay dude.(btw: gay[honorary])

i feel like i’ve already read this man for filth but i have to keep going bc i have so much to say

ok next thing i’m gonna talk about is how jensen says one thing but everything else about him tells us the exact opposite. another HUGE element of performative masculinity, ONE THAT DEAN WINCHESTER IS A MASTER OF. have i mentioned how dean and jensen are like mirrors of each other when it comes to their sexuality and queer identity??? because it is fascinating how everything i say about jensen also directly applies to dean.

allow me to introduce the grumpy face™. as in, the face he glues on when he’s enjoying doing something but doesn’t want to let anyone know it. and it’s ALWAYS when he’s doing something that could be seen as unmanly in any way. (and when i say manly i mean the ‘ideal’ version of manhood that doesn’t really exist but that jensen seems to be striving for[and dean too])

prime example is this video he did with daneel. the grumpy face™ doesn’t budge the whole time as he’s like,,,,playing an instrument and acting like he doesn’t want to bc i guess that’s too girly??? but i also find this video fascinating because the joke IN it is kind of that they’re both poking fun at him for being so insecure about playing a freaking flute. because, i mean, he gets into it, but he wants you to think he is not.

also this picture.

what is this. i hate them. jensen is smushing himself into misha’s forehead but noooo his face is telling us ‘i hate this’ because CLEARLY he does. also misha’s so happy ew gross

he does that face in photo ops with misha ALL THE TIME but how many times has he also literally asked the con goers if he can also have those photos on his phone too? because of course he actually loves touching misha and is actually a sentimental fool but he tries so hard to hide it and fails so spectacularly.

oh and this. and of COURSE this. actually let’s talk about the hitch kiss for a hot minute because it’s a perfect example of exactly what i’m talking about

(he is so transparent guys. he tries so hard but he’s so obvious.)

1. misha was never supposed to be onstage with him. so it’s a boldface LIE and OBVIOUS PLOY TO GET MISHA TO KISS HIM when he says ‘they’d like us to make out now’. but of course the way he says it is ‘oh my god can you believe what these crazy panel people are making us do haha but i mean what they say goes amirite’. same energy as ‘oh my god did you just dare us to kiss rn???’ ‘....no i didn’t’ ‘oh my god i can’t believe you’d ask that haha but i can’t say no to a dare lol’ it’s the SAME THING

2. the fact that he was in the worst mood before misha came onstage and FAKE KISSING HIM made him feel...SO?? much better? like not just a little better a lot better like, again, that says a lot, because if they weren’t dating he would not be in a better mood if misha kissed his cheek unprompted. bc that cheek kiss wasn’t a joke it was a genuine sign of affection and AHHHH

3. after the kiss happens. you know, the one that jensen actively leans into and is smiling like an idiot the whole time through and is quite clearly having the time of his life during....he says ‘well, that was uncomfortable’. .......my guy. um. i don’t know how to tell you that i do in fact have eyes and you are NOT pulling the fast one you think you are

like i’m so sorry jensen but i have you pegged. it’s literally no use.

god there’s so many instances of him doing this with misha specifically. the whole ‘ew gross lol’ but then everything about him tells us the exact opposite. like this(i hate this. how dare he say ‘he has though, hasn’t he?’ LIKE THAT?????)

so yeah my point with that is he really wants us to think he is one thing when he is the antithesis of what he’s trying to be. he really likes those things that he talks down about, and everything he’s loudly projecting is all to hide how he really feels. he went to a gay bar with daneel, for crying out loud. he wants to play a role in drag. he’s queer and he likes it. pov: you’re jensen ackles train of thought: ‘ok so i really like this thing that people might make fun of me for or call me gay for liking so if i just say ‘lol as if’ and make a grossed-out face they will be FOOLED. i am a genius. hey misha wanna blow on my ear lol i meAN GROSS EW’

i have two more things i want to talk about when it comes to this topic so PLEASE bear with me anon this is why you took so long to answer clearly lmao

ok so we’re now going to go over my favorite hot take of all time. which is ‘how do we know dean’s performing masculinity? because sam isn’t.’ only replace dean with jensen and sam with jared and oh my god do we ever have a case

jared is as STRAIGHT as they come. he is secure in that knowledge. and that’s why he is perfectly comfortable treating misha like this:

and not try to scream ‘i am not enjoying doing this!!!!!!’ at us. because he doesn’t care what we think of his sexuality like jensen does(because he has nothing to hide whereas jensen DOES)

something i found the other day that no one has brought up but i SCREAMED upon finding it is this one clip THAT I CAN’T FIND OH GOD but i promise i’m not making it up. i can’t believe i can’t find it guys it is gold. i need need NEED to talk about it. and if anyone knows what i’m referencing and can apply links in any way i will love you forever but here’s what happens off the top of my head:

ok so i’m a bit too braindead to explain it perfectly but um basically it’s a j2 panel and someone brings up magic mike and i think jared says ‘yeah i didn’t watch it’ and then jensen says ‘all the way through’. stupid joke. whatever. the joke is that jared is gay for watching magic mike.

and then i literally kid you not. jared gets this like ‘jesus christ ok dude? lol’ look on his face and then goes ‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ and jensen gets a guilty look on his face and walks away. and jared did not say it as a joke. he was being dead pan and earnest. and jensen knew it too, he knew he was projecting. i wish i could show you guys the clip i promise if i ever find it i’ll link it but IS THAT NOT SO DAMNING FOR JENSEN????? like come ON. also proves my point that when you compare how they feel about watching magic mike. jared doesn’t care bc watching it just doesn’t interest him, but he also thinks that just watching it in itself doesn’t make you gay. jensen however.......has a different mindset, clearly.

‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ is actually a great title for my next and FINAL section(we’re almost there folks) which is how jensen projects his insecurites about his own sexuality and relationship with misha onto misha.

i hope by now we’ve all seen this video of jensen impersonating cas. it is a blatant microaggression on his part. and like obviously homophobic. it’s like in his mind if he makes fun of them for being gay it makes them both less gay somehow??? it’s self-deprecation in a way??? let’s just tell it like it is: that impression was just jensen’s overt internalized homophobia rearing it’s ugly head. he does it a LOT too when it comes to misha.

i mean:

and that whole mess where he’s making fun of misha for being a bottom in their panel in 2016? ‘so you’re saying, like with football terms, there’s a handler and there’s a receiver heheheehe’ jensen you’re not exempt from being gay just because you know football terms lmao

oh and his OTHER impression of misha where he mocks him for...bicycling...because it’s not a manly enough sport??? jensen NO ONE else has ever thought this hard in their lives about what constitutes as masculine enough to be a sport before. that’s all you bud. we don’t find those jokes nearly as funny as you do. you are reaching, sir

the good news is that misha thinks it’s hilarious and knows it’s projecting on jensen’s part and will tease him endlessly for it. many stories come to mind, like that one photo op story where they’re literally dressed in rainbow banners and pride stickers but when misha goes to hold his hand jensen said something like ‘no way’ and then misha stepped back, put his hands on his hips and went ‘that’s the part that’s too gay for you???’ and jensen LOST it

or when that whole underwear thing happened(messy messY MESSY BTW) and then a fan asked a question about what dean and cas would do in rome and misha just said ‘when in rome’ and jensen makes a face like ‘are you serious’ and then misha says ‘you can’t look at me like that anymore, because of what you did!!!!!!’

OH and that whole story about when misha suggested they put jensen in the closet for that cat video....yeah um

and then when jensen was asked to do bisexual finger guns for a photo op and the con goer said ‘he looks bisexual here’ and misha literally said ‘oh he definitely looks bisexual here. i would say he’s actually closer to the gay side of the spectrum’ so..um...make with that as you will

OH MY GOD i’m finally done. wow. WOW. that was a lot. i hope i’ve blown your minds. ty anon i really wanted to talk about this and i hope you’re happy with the outcome!!!!!!

#cockles ask #sexuality spec #jensen is bi #anti rps for ts #cockles #liz answers #ok i have to admit it is crazy i have retained all this info #i hope someone appreciates it #my analysis #mine

297 notes · View notes

mamabearcatfanfics · 3 years

Text

Battle Couple

I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.

Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.

Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.

And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.

He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.

He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.

Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.

“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”

There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.

“This is what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”

“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”

❤

Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.

“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”

And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.

She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.

She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!

“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”

He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.

“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”

“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”

They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.

“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.

“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”

“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”

“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks Kagome.”

She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.

For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.

“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”

“Jak!”

“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”

“Jak!”

“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”

She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.

Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.

Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.

Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

❤

Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.

“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.

“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.

“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”

“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.

He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.

“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”

There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.

“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”

“What?”

Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.

“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”

“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."

A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.

“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.

“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“

Ryan lunged towards her.

“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”

Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck, Kagome!”

Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.

“Kagome, can you hear me?”

Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”

❤

It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.

❤

“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.

“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”

“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”

“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”

Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.

“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”

“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”

“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”

Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed back.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.

“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“

“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”

“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“

“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”

Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“

“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”

❤

Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.

It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.

There were two messages.

The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.

I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰

Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.

I’d love you to ❤

#inukag week #inukag week 2021 #battle couple #all the fluff #it's now 3am and I'm a tired tired Mama Bear #but at least I got one prompt in on time

76 notes · View notes

appropriatelystupid · 3 years

Text

So obviously there’s Supercorp in medieval times AUs

(trust and believe I’ve read and loved every single one they never get old)

But what about a Supercorp at Medieval Times AU…

Lena, is the reigning Queen:

She started working there in high school because she needed an excuse to get out of the house and because she knew Lillian would frown upon such an establishment

(She stayed because the joy of the kids that come through is just too sweet a high)

Lena started as a serving girl, entry level and easy enough, but quickly set her eyes on the prize: The Throne

The Queen at the time, an undeniably irritating woman, Siobhan, makes it almost too easy for Lena to usurp her

Siobhan has multiple reviews from guests for her lackluster performance, as well as numerous complaints from coworkers for being a menace to work with

In the end, Siobhan all but hands Lena everything she needs

Siobhan is late for the start of the dinner show, on a busy Friday

Lena isn’t the one to find her, but, if pressed, she’ll admit to making sure the manager was

The show needs to get started but they absolutely will be having a conversation later about the fact that she was just caught fucking one of the squires in her changing room

(It does not go her way)

Suddenly the Throne is open and there’s another show tomorrow and the manager is scrambling because how will we find a queen in less than a day

And so Lena makes her move; stops by the manager’s office and offers to cover the role until they can find someone permanent; she knows the show from watching it everyday and, best of all, she already fits the current wardrobe

And so her reign begins

Kara, is determined to be a Knight:

She starts about a month after Lena becomes Queen

Her best friend, Winn, a jester who does a pre-show act as people are being seated, gets her an interview to be a stable hand

A lifetime of riding horses makes her more than qualified

Kara is feeding one of the horses the first time she sees Lena, already dressed for the dinner show

(She almost loses a finger in her distraction)

They don’t get a chance to talk for a few days, as far as Kara can tell Lena is pretty aloof and unsociable

It’s two days later when Kara finds Lena grooming one of the horses after a show and she finds out that it’s just been a bad week for Lena

In addition to some personal family stuff, the knights in the show have all, at one time or another, tried to ask her out and a couple really don’t know how to take “no” for an answer

After seeing her work with the horse, Kara tells her she’s always welcome in the stables with her

She wields her broom like a sword, promises to protect her from any and all unsavory knights, and finishes with a deep bow in hopes of making her crack a smile

She gets a deep belly laugh, head thrown back and cheeks dusted pink, and a smile that almost blinds her instead

She feels her heart trip over itself in her chest and knows she must become a knight so she can at least pretend to fight for the love of this incredible woman

A few months into working there, Lena catches her practicing with a sword between shows

A few too many call outs meant someone was needed to polish the gear and Kara got distracted™️

Lena just picks up a sword of her own, with an elaborate flourish, and they spend half of their lunch break having a duel

Both are very impressed by the others swordsmanship and also very turned on by the whole thing

They both keep that bit to themselves

Lena starts plotting her next show shake up

A few months later, there’s drama™️ in the arena during the knights practice jousts, which is to say, Morgan is in a huff because Lena turned him down, again, and Maxwell can’t help but taunt him by bragging that she’ll “totally say yes" to him when he asks again

Mike and James try to calm them both down but Morgan’s horse gets spooked and throws him off

He doesn’t break anything but the way he’s whimpering you’d think he did; either way he can’t perform that night

Before the manager can start to panic, Lena suggests Kara take Morgan’s spot for the night

He’s hesitant about putting a female in the role but his options are limited with their back up on vacation

Kara is shocked that Lena suggests her but quickly jumps to her own defense

It’s already known she’s great on a horse, and her time working with them (and in the gym) mean that Morgan’s gear will work well enough for her to be comfortable and still in control

It’s too close to the doors opening for anything else so Kara dons the armor (and if she can’t stop smiling well then that’s just too bad for everyone else because she’s ecstatic)

As they gather to determine the winner for that night’s show, Lena looks almost as excited for her as Kara is

The Queen and her four Knights gather around and Lena blindly draws a beanbag from the dark box in front of them: Red will be winning tonight

She replaces the bag and mixes them up a bit before the knights all draw their own

Kara draws blue; Lena thinks it’s fitting for her first show, considering how bright her blue eyes are shining in excitement, even if it means she’ll be coming in second that night

Mike gets red and all Lena can think is at least it’s not Maxwell again

The show goes better than most have in weeks

Kara’s joy is palpable and the Blue section is, at times, deafening

Even though she comes in second, when Kara removes her helmet and reveals herself to the crowd, the entire arena erupts

Lena, from her place on the throne, can see little kids all over the crowd in awe of her

(Shortly after Lena had become Queen, she had suggested adding a sort of meet and greet after the shows, a chance for the younger kids to meet their heroes of the night

As is her own custom, Lena is with the winning Knight, seeing as they had just fought for her hand, after all)

Most nights the knights are greeted by kids from their own section, but tonight, from where Lena is standing with Mike, she can see kids in crowns from all the sections eager to meet Kara

Kara, absolutely cannot stop beaming and is told more than a few times that she needs to make her interactions quicker

(She does not go quicker)

When she finally does get through all the guests waiting for her, the manager offers Kara the role permanently

Morgan had quit when he heard Kara was replacing him and there’s no denying the popularity of her as a knight

It feels like an eternity (it’s been two weeks) before Kara finally draws the winning color for the night: Green

She thinks it’s fitting, just like Lena’s eyes as it were

Lena, for her part tries desperately to not show how excited she is that Kara will finally be her winning Knight

The show goes exactly as it always does, everything running without a hitch, but Kara can’t help but be a nervous wreck as they get to the end

She has the flower crown in hand, she knows what comes next but she can’t help but feel jittery in her saddle

She knows she needs to trot past her section in victory

She knows she needs to ride to Lena in the Royal Box

She knows she needs to place the flowers on her head and crown her the “Queen of Love and Beauty”

She knows Lena thanks her winning Knight with a kiss on the cheek

She knows all of this but she didn’t know ya know

She finds she’s distinctly unprepared for Lena’s face to be anywhere near her face

All Kara can do as she approaches Lena is hope desperately that she doesn’t look as nervous about a kiss on the cheek as she feels

(Alex never let’s her live it down after she hears the story)

Kara stops her horse next to the Royal Box as Lena rises to greet her

She’s sure it’s a trick of the lights that showed a flash of nerves across Lena’s face as well

Kara can feel her hands shaking as she places the crown on Lena’s head; she’s shocked her horse hasn’t picked up on her nerves as well

It’s only when Lena’s lips finally make contact with her cheek, close enough to the corner of her mouth to be felt, that Kara realizes she hasn’t been breathing

Kara sees the nerves clearly now, as Lena straightens back up to finish the show, so she does the only thing she can think to do in front of a packed arena

She catches Lena’s hand off the railing that separates them and plants her lips firmly to the back of it, blue eyes locked on Lena’s own green

The smiles they send each other would outshine the sun if given the chance before Lena shakes herself out of her daze to finally actually finish the show

After the show, after greeting the guests with their hands as good as glued together, they finally get back to their shared changing room

(An unexpected blessing and curse once there were two females needing a place to change for the shows)

Lena is barely in the door before she’s very much pinned against it by her very happy and very beautiful knight

They don’t outright tell anyone about the shift between them

James is the first to realize that when Kara wins, the kisses get closer and closer to real; he catches them both after a show and gives them a quick “congrats” and a wink before heading to change

Mike doesn’t clock onto the difference for when Kara wins but when he eventually finds out they’re dating he gives them a “right on” and high fives them both

Maxwell doesn’t notice anything because he doesn’t pay attention to parts of the show that don’t involve him; they very pointedly tell him absolutely nothing about themselves

If this was a real story and not me stream-of-consciousness-ing then Nia and Brainy would work at the gift shop

Also this is how I pictured Lena for the entirety of this:

#that dress will be the death of me someday #if there is a ‘sc work at medieval times au’ pls point me in its direction #this was supposed to be shorter whoops #why work on my wip when i can word vomit this instead #my feelings on medieval times vary week to week but i'm moving closer to one and found myself unable to think about anything else #supercorp #supercorp au #medieval supercorp #sorta #lena luthor #kara danvers

140 notes · View notes

tirsynni · 3 years

Text

More Leon (and Claire!) meta because this is my life now, I suppose.

Under a cut for Infinite Darkness spoilers.

I’ve stated before that I think Leon and Claire are the two most compassionate, people-driven of the heroes in Resident Evil. I also think they have two wildly different takes on it.

Both will drop everything to help someone in need. Both will risk their lives to help others. Both will force themselves to stop panicking (their awesome screaming and cursing in RE2: Remake) in order to appear calm and confident for another person (in RE2: Remake with each other and with Sherry).

But Leon is quicker than Claire to make himself vulnerable, to believe in others, to take things at face value, etc. If their roles had been switched in RE2: Remake and Claire had been with Ada? It would have been a completely different story. See Leon with basically everyone in RE4. He gets attached quickly (like, frighteningly so, makes one wonder), as shown with Luis, Mike who he knew for all of five minutes, etc. He is a deadly puppy, no doubt, but still a puppy who can never forget the death toll in Raccoon City.

Claire is practical and goal-driven. She wants to save lives so here comes TerraSave. She doesn’t fuck around. She keeps moving. Whenever we see her, it is when she sees a problem and she is taking immediate actions to solve the problem. If Leon’s past haunts him, Claire’s past drives her. She is fearless and takes no prisoners. Needs to break into a secret facility for information on her brother? Sure. Needs to fight the US Government to help a foreign country? No problem.

Okay, so we have these two different perspectives on the same issue: saving and protecting people. Now this is where the problem comes in.

There was a definite sibling relationship between Claire and Leon in ID and no one will convince me otherwise. There were also definite scenes where Leon showed his failure to accurately read people (in some cases, I think on purpose, because he really, really didn’t want to believe that of the other person) and preferred to lighten the mood with jokes rather than address issues. There were some scenes on Claire’s end when she seemed kinda tense around Leon, ending with their final meeting, and here’s my theory on that.

There is no evidence that Claire is aware that Leon was blackmailed into working for the government. I feel like if she knew, she would be working on an escape plan for him, regardless of Leon’s wishes. (Seriously, one of the first things he did with his new position was figure out how to contact Chris in order to save Claire. I can imagine him seeing some perks to his new job.) All she knows is that Leon left Raccoon City, which was then bombed by the US Government, and then... became a government agent? Wtf, Leon? Also, that same government planned on buying the viruses which would make BOWs. Wtf was Leon doing working for them? Was it just an extension of him wanting to be a cop?

We have one scene in Darkside Chronicles where Leon mentions being picked up by the government. There is nothing in that scene at all where he even implies the truth of what happened, even as the flashback shows him hunched over, bullet wound still untreated, still in bloody clothes, traumatized and exhausted, while the government threatens a small child to make him work for them. He probably never told anyone the truth, even if there is no way in hell Ada doesn’t know.

So Claire first asks Leon for information about the little boy’s picture. Leon deflects. Foreshadowing for the final scene where Leon has the chip and refuses to give it to Claire. Claire literally only has one way to interpret that scene. Leon being afraid of government blackmail or Jason’s plan of terror coming to fruition wouldn’t occur to her, especially as she knew little about Jason. Here’s the truth and Leon, now a government agent, isn’t giving it to her. Claire’s response to fear is to grab a big gun and jump into a pit to fight it. Leon’s is generally to go quiet and plan (usually followed by him doing something stupid which risks his life, preferably no one else’s).

Between their different personalities and Leon’s big secret? I can imagine some tension between the two. Of course, most of this is just headcanon until canon fleshes out some shit.

#resident evil #resident evil: infinite darkness #infinite darkness spoilers #leon s kennedy #claire redfield #claire redfield would fistfight god #leon is a puppy #leon needs a hug #meta

57 notes · View notes

beepen · 3 years

Text

The first time someone commented on Takashi and Adam’s friendship, Takashi didn’t get it.

“The clingy-ness is unreal,” Matt had scolded them, getting up from his seat and moving over because Takashi wanted to sit next to Adam and would have stood in front of Matt the entire movie if he didn’t get his way.

Takashi rolled his eyes at Matt’s grumbling, but plopped happily next to Adam. Matt was wrong, of course. He wasn’t clingy. Adam was his best friend and best friends sat next to each other in movie theaters. Best friends also sat next to each other on the ride there, and the ride back. It wasn’t a hard concept to understand. But he gave Matt a hard pinch for the comment anyway, and also for trying to steal his spot.

The next instance was on the first plane trip after a long off season break.

“Shiro and Adam got married over break,” Mike said, a smirk in his voice. Beside him was Curtis, who broke out in a mocking laugh and leaned over Mike’s lap to get his two cents in.

“Where’s the ring, Adam?” Curtis was loud enough it caught Matt’s attention, who turned around in his seat to ask the same question.

Takashi leaned his head back on the headrest, exasperated. Getting chirped by the boys was never fun, but he had learned not to take it seriously.

“We weren’t even together over break,” Takashi said, and it was true—they weren’t. But the boys weren’t buying it.

“Yeah, yeah. Show us the ring Adam.”

Adam finally leaned forward in his seat, an annoyed expression on his face. “Why do you think I’d get the ring?”

“They’re just trying to turn the conversation on us,” Takashi said, “Curtis doesn’t want anyone to know what he and Mikey did over break.”

Adam ignored him. “Why do you think I’d get the ring, bud?”

The boys just laughed and threw a few more chirps, calling them “clingy bastards”, but eventually the topic changed and Adam and Takashi were left alone. Still, the last few chirps made Takashi feel weird.

What was with this whole clingy thing? They weren’t clingy, not even a bit. If they were, they would have spent all of the off season together, which they didn’t. Takashi missed him like hell though, and they texted everyday, but that didn’t make them clingy. They just weren’t, and Takashi was already tired of hearing it.

The last straw was a comment on one of Adam’s instagram posts. It was a picture of both Takashi and Adam, just their faces in the frame together, smiling. They were in Adam’s hotel bed when they took the picture, and it was obvious with the white pillow behind their heads. The caption wrote:

“Excited for more road trips with this guy!”

Simple. Nothing special. Takashi’s heart might have done a little flip, but really who doesn’t like to feel appreciated by their best friend? It was only a little post to let the fans know they were just as excited to play hockey again as they were to watch them play.

But one of their teammates left a comment.

“And here I thought you guys couldn’t get anymore co-dependent.”

Takashi frowned at his phone. He was tempted to reply “fuck off” but one; instagram didn’t really allow that kind of language and two; he didn’t need social media to think he had beef with one of his teammates. But, God. Ugh. They weren’t clingy! They weren’t co-dependent!

They were best friends!

The whole thing bothered him the rest of the day, and he decided to voice his concerns with Adam himself while they were brushing their teeth.

Adam gave him a weird look through the bathroom mirror. “Huh?”

Takashi spat into the sink and asked the question again, this time without his toothbrush in the way. “I said, do you think we’re clingy?”

Adam waited until he was finished brushing his teeth before he answered, which was only a few seconds longer, but to Takashi it felt like a really, really long time.

“Yes,” Adam finally said, and of course he would. Adam was the realest person Takashi knew. But he still didn’t want to agree with him.

“Are you serious?”

This time, the look Adam gave was directed right at him and not through the mirror. “Yes? Do you not think so or something?”

Takashi shrugged. “No. I mean, yes? I don’t think we’re clingy.”

Adam’s blank stare made him feel stupid, and he knew what Adam was going to say next was only going to make him feel even more stupid.

“Dude,” Adam began, and good lord here it comes. “You don’t like it when we don’t do this together.” He gestured towards the toothbrushes, standing parallel together on opposite ends of the counter.

��I’m superstitious,” Takashi tried to say, “You know that.”

Adam’s face was morphing into something between annoyance and confusion with every word that left Takashi’s mouth.

“No, keeping the volume level in the car at an even number because you think an odd number means you’ll get into an accident is you being superstitious.”

“Well, yeah.” Takashi couldn’t argue with that. “But this is me being superstitious, too.”

Adam cocked his head to the side. “What do you think will happen if we don’t brush our teeth together?”

“Um.”

“Or if we didn’t sit together on the coach?”

“Well—“

“Or if we don’t sleep in the same bed?”

Takashi clamped his mouth shut. The truth is, nothing would happen if they didn’t do those things together. Takashi would just be sad. He felt sad even thinking about it, and it must have shown on his face because Adam was studying him now, his eyebrows drooping a bit.

“Do you—do you not..? Do you want to stop doing that?” Adam stuttered over his words, and a look of realization fell upon his face. He seemed upset about whatever realization that was.

“Uh, no? I don’t know. Not really. That wasn’t….I just don’t think….” Takashi stopped, realizing his words, or lack thereof, were adding nothing to the conversation. Adam was increasingly becoming upset, and Takashi didn’t know how that happened. He was looking at him, head-on because they were the same height, brown eyes more exposed than usual because his glasses were on the dresser in the other room. And he stared, studying Takashi until he figured out whatever answer Takashi wasn’t giving him.

“Okay,” Adam finally said, slowly. “We can stop.”

He paused, staring at Takashi one last time for a long moment, waiting for him to say something.

“Okay,” was all Takashi said, and immediately regretted it.

While Adam finished up and walked to his own room without another word, Takashi tried to understand how the hell the conversation ended like that. The whole clingy thing, it bothered him, sure, but not enough to want to stop doing the things their teammates thought were clingy. And that was really the only issue. Takashi didn’t think Adam and him were clingy at all. That’s all he wanted to talk about. He just wanted Adam to agree with him on the matter and then they could be on their merry way, doing what they usually do. Which was sitting together, cooking together, going shopping together, watching TV together. And sleeping together. That wasn’t happening tonight, apparently….Ugh.

And as suspected, Takashi couldn’t sleep. The moment he crawled into bed, it was too big. There was no body already curled up underneath the blankets on the right side, no accidental brush of someone’s arm against his, and no sound of soft breathing. He even scooted to the center of the bed, but that only made him feel stranded on a sea of mattress. All because of, what? Takashi’s problem with the word “clingy”? His issue with communicating what he wanted?

God, he was an idiot. But you know what? He wasn’t going to be an idiot all night.

Tearing the blankets off, he marched straight towards Adam’s room, not even knocking before he creeped the door open. Adam was on his phone, the screen illuminating his face as he looked up.

Eye contact was all it took for Takashi to move forward and crawl underneath the blankets.

“You’re an idiot,” Adam said as he positioned himself on his other side, back to Takashi so Takashi could scoot over and curl around him.

“I just wanted you to agree with me,” Takashi whispered against a head of curly hair. Adam snorted.

“Agree with you about what?”

“Us not being clingy.”

“But we are.”

“I know.”

Adam turned his head to look at him. “And you’re okay with that?”

Takashi tightened his arms around Adam, hooking their ankles together and burying himself closer. Clinging onto him, because those 30 minutes in bed by himself didn’t feel right.

“Yes,” he said, and God help him, he thought about kissing Adam’s cheek. And then he thought about other things, things much more intimate than sitting together, and his brain spasmed through a million feelings at once before he pushed it all down and threw it into jail where he’d deal with it later, or maybe never.

Probably never.

#adashi #shadam #vld shiro #vld adam #voltron #vld

46 notes · View notes

australiancarisi · 3 years

Note

12 with olivia benson please!

Words: 2550 Remember when I said these were gonna be drabbles… also Nick, Rafael, Mike & Kat are in this because I love them all thx for coming to my ted talk

‘how is my wife more badass than me?’

You groaned as you rolled over to Liv’s side of the bed to turn the blaring alarm off. It took a lot of effort and tries but you eventually managed to turn it off with a huff. You wrapped the blanket around you, closed your eyes and snuggled into Liv’s pillow. You peeped an eye open when you heard Liv chuckle.

“What” you mumbled

“You are just adorable” Liv smiled from the doorway to your bathroom

“Why are you out of bed?” you whined rolling onto you back

“Because although it is your day off my love, it is not mine” Liv said and headed back into the bathroom to continue getting ready.

“But the alarm only just went off. If I’m going to be woken up early on my day off a mere five hours after getting home from my shift, I should get cuddles” you demanded. “I’m not joking” you said as Liv laughed at you. You sat up slightly when you noticed your bedroom door slowly open “here’s my cuddles”

“y/n” Noah ran up and jumped onto the bed and got straight into your arms

“Hello sweet boy, how do you have so much energy at 6 in the morning” you grinned smothering his face with kisses. Noah’s laugh had to up there as one of your favourite sounds, so pure, so innocent. Liv leant against the door frame and watched the two of you together. She had been so nervous when the two of you had started dating about how Noah would take to you, but from the moment he met you, he was glued to your side and you were wrapped around his little finger. Even now, two years into your marriage and nothing had changed.

“See this could have been all yours but now Noah gets all the cuddles” you squeezed him a little tighter making him giggle.

“Alright you two” Liv playfully rolled eyes “Come on Noah let’s get you ready for school before Lucy gets here”

“Nooooo”

“Yesssss” Liv teased him

“But I wanna stay with y/n”

“I can get him ready” you said with a yawn

“The only thing you are going to do is go back to sleep” Liv said

“But-“

“No buts. You didn’t get home until 1am you need to sleep my love” Liv pecked your lips and reached out to Noah, who just snuggled into you “Noah” he whined again. Your schedule had been all over the place lately. You had been doing doubles and night shifts for the last few weeks, you had barely seen Liv let alone Noah, it was no wonder he was clinging to you

“Go on sweet boy, I promise I’ll be there to pick you up after school” you kissed his forehead

“Promise?” He asked holding his pinkie up. You wrapped yours around his.

“Pinkie promise. 3 o’clock. I’ll be there” with the promise of seeing you later agreed on Noah left.

“Get some sleep my love” Liv smiled kissing you again before turning off the lights leaving you to catch up some much-needed rest.

When you woke up again it was nearly 11am. You jumped up pottered around the house, cleaning up Noah’s toys, putting away any dishes and things that were lying around and doing some laundry. These were your favourite type of days, where you just chilled at home, cleaned and were able to do things at your own pace.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Captain” you grinned, answering your phone

“Do I need a reason to call my wife?” Liv asked. You could basically hear her rolling her eyes.

“No, but it is out of the ordinary”

“What are you doing?” Liv asked, changing the subject

“Just about to leave actually, going to meet Jas for lunch at the café down the street. Even put on jeans for the occasion” You locked the door as you headed out to meet your friend.

“Wow fancy…” she trailed off and you could hear her talking to Sonny and Amanda

“How busy are you today?” you asked when you heard her lift her phone back to her ear

“You don’t even want to know… that’s why I called I doubt I’ll be home for dinner”

“It’s okay- “

“No, it's not” Liv cut you off with a frustrated sigh “I need to be home more, I need to spend more time with you and Noah and- “

“And you need to work. Because it’s what you love, because you are helping the people that need it. You are a good police officer, the best actually. Noah and I can handle a few late nights. Besides Noah needs something to be mad about when he’s a teenager” you joked. You smiled as you heard Liv chuckle a little. You hated how much pressure put on herself to be perfect at everything.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Liv asked

“Once or twice but I’ll never grow tired of hearing it”

“I love you”

“I love you too, I’ll see you when I’m looking at you, be safe”

“Always”

“You know you have a stupid look on your face” your friend and co-worker Jas said as you met out the front of the café while hanging up the phone

“It’s called love, you should try it sometime” you teased

“No thank you” Jas replied with a laugh. The two of you sat in the busy café and caught up on everything outside of work. Jas told you about one of the many guys she had on the go at the moment, you gushed about Liv and Noah.

“I mean seriously if I could I’d shove my foot where the sun doesn’t shine” Jas huffed bitching about one of your co-workers.

“I should probably go, need to run a couple of errands before I pick up Noah” You looked at your phone double-checking the time, an hour before you had to get Noah. You and Jas went to stand up when all hell broke loose. Everything changed in a split second. One moment you were sitting there with your friend having an amazing day and the next you were hiding under a table as a man held the café at gunpoint.

“NOBODY MOVE” he screamed turning in a circle with his gun pointed and ready to shoot. “NO ONE MOVES NO ONE CALLS THE COPS” You slowly and quietly got your phone out.

“What are you doing?” Jas whispered, her voice shaking in fear “did you not just hear him?”

“There’s no way I’m not texting Liv” you huffed

Liv sighed as she waited for the coffee machine to brew a new jug. Her eyes felt like they were going to fall out after all the paperwork she had been doing all day. All her detectives had been out either talking to victims or following leads so all she had done today was sit at her desk and do paperwork and reply to emails. Picking up her cup, Liv headed back out to the squad room as she heard everyone return. As Amanda was filling everyone in on the lead that she and Sonny had been following when everyone’s phone buzzed, and officers began moving.

“Café being held at gunpoint” Fin frowned

“Unknown gunman, unknown reason” Kat read from her phone

“I wonder which one” Sonny thought aloud

“Café 98” Liv almost threw her coffee on the nearest desk running into her office to grab her gun and badge.

“How do you know?” Fin asked

“Y/n is there”

Half an hour had passed, you could now hear the sirens of police officers in the distance, Liv responded and told you she was on the way and it was going to be okay. It was only words, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel better. The gunman was shouting at the café workers, blaming them for everyone being taken hostage because they didn’t give him money. You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm. The café phone rang, then again and again.

“Someone shut that fucking phone up!” the man yelled

“It’s going to keep ringing” your mouth said before your mind could stop you

“What was that bitch?” He started moving towards you. You slowly stood up, hands in the air.

“The p-phone. It’s the police. They want to talk, and they are going to keep calling until you answer” you stuttered, your confidence slowly falling.

“How would you know?” He sneered “you a cop?”

“No!” you quickly exclaimed “uh no I’m not but I am married to one. My wife is the captain at the 16th” you pulled your phone out of your pocket to show him your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Liv – her in her uniform - when she promoted to captain.

“You answer it then” he motioned with the gun towards the phone. You slowly walked over to the counter, focused on the man and the gun and picked up the phone.

“Hello” you said

“Hello, this is Captain Mike Dodds who is this?” you breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar voice.

Olivia jumped out of the car at the scene, almost before Fin had actually stopped the car. It was chaos. Uniforms were holding back the public as well as journalists. There were lights flashing and being screaming. Olivia could hear people asking if it was a terrorist attack but right now, she didn’t care about motive, all she wanted was to get you out of there. Flashing her badge, she and the rest of the squad were let through and they headed towards ground zero.

“Who’s in charge?” Liv asked a nearby uni who pointed her in the direction. She had a small smile when she saw Mike and Nick hunched over a table. “Captain Dodds, Sargant Amaro”

“Liv” the pair frowned “what are you guys doing here? This is major crimes’ not svu”

“y/n is in there” Fin said

“So what do you know?” Liv asked

“Not a lot. No contact has been made yet. We’re about to try again” Nick said as Mike lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hello, this is Captain Mike Dodds who is this?” Mike asked, his eyes met Liv and he quickly put the phone onto speaker. “y/n is anyone hurt?

“No, no one is hurt. There’s probably about 30 of us in here” hearing your voice was music to Liv’s ears. Mike asked you a few more questions, not that you were able to give him much more information.

“Mike, I need you to tell Liv someone has to get Noah, I was supposed to pick him up from school and he’s going to be so upset if I’m not there” Liv turned to her squad, she hadn’t even thought of Noah.

“I’m on it” Sonny nodded pulling his phone out and moving away from everyone.

The fact that Mike was the person on the other end of the line made you a little less anxious. You tried to give him as much info as possible, but the gunman was not giving you anything, he wouldn’t even tell them what he wanted.

“Mike, I need you to tell Liv someone has to get Noah, I was supposed to pick him up from school and he’s going to be so upset if I’m not there and-“

“Alright that’s enough” the gunman grabbed the phone out of your hand and hung up. You quickly moved back to your spot under the table. The gunman was growing anxious, pacing around the room, it was clear he didn’t have a plan.

“There’s a back door” Jas whispered “a few of us could get out”

“I’ll distract him”

“I think Liv would kill me if I left you in here” Jas huffed

“If you get out the police can get it, she’ll live with it” you slowly stood back up “you should really stay away from the windows”

“What?” the man spat at you

“The police, they’ll be looking for a spot for a sniper to take you out” you walked towards him, moving around so he kept his eyes on you. Jas and a couple others started to creep towards the door. You were racking your brain trying to remember everything Liv had ever told you about hostage situations.

“Shouldn’t you stay away from the windows to then?”

“My wife’s a cop. You don’t think she’s out there?” you chuckled “And the guy on the phone before? He was her number 2 not too long ago, he got promoted not too long before my wife, he goes to my son’s dance recitals, he’s not gonna let anything happen to me. I doubt there is an officer that doesn’t know what I look like. They aren’t going to shoot me, but they will shoot you” your eyes swept the room quickly, Jas was out.

“Then maybe I should just shoot you” he held the gun to your face. You held your breath and closed your eyes. You thought of Liv and Noah and how much you loved them. Suddenly the back door opened and your eyes shot open.

“NYPD!” the gunman’s attention turned to the police officers, then, without thinking you grabbed the gun and his arm, flipping him to the ground. You quickly ripped the gun from his hand and took it apart.

“Seems you learnt some tricks over the years” Mike grinned coming up to you as one of the other officers handcuffed the man. You wrapped your arms around him and relaxed, you were okay, everyone was okay.

“She’s out there right?” you needed your wife right now

“did you expect her to be anywhere else?” Nick smirked joining you and Mike. He wrapped his arm around you too “took almost everyone to keep her from busting through the door herself” you grinned at that. Classic Liv. Mike and Nick lead you out the front door of the café. The moment you stepped out you found Liv. She was standing with Jas and the rest of the squad. Her eyes locked with yours and you thought you were going to start crying. The two of you ran to each other, throwing your arms around the other.

“Oh my love” Liv squeezed you “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay” you whisper into her neck

“She’s more than okay” Mike said, you pulled back from Liv’s arms. The rest of the squad joined you. “not only did she distract him to get those guys out, when we came in she grabbed his gun and disarmed him”

“Nice” Kat grinned, clearly impressed

“How is my wife more badass than me?” Liv grinned and kissed your forehead

“Learnt from the best” you responded “Noah…”

“All covered, Raf’s got him” Sonny said “He’s no y/n but I’m sure Noah was just as excited to see Uncle Rafa”

“Probably more” you laughed, you grabbed Liv’s hand and squeezed “Let’s go see our son”

“Anything you want my love” Liv kissed your lips “I’m so proud of you”

#law and order svu #law and order svu imagines #law and order fanfic #Olivia Benson #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson imagine #olivia benson fanfic

173 notes · View notes