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lluvguts · 3 years

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Cool Blue ; Chapter Three

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recurring visions of such sweet days

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☽ warnings: slight nsfw (wet dreams, unresolved tension)

☽ fic masterlist

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He stashed the photos--really he flung them like a frisbee--onto his unmade bed and slammed the door shut before Giulia could inquire about his back pressed to the door, hands on the knob, a cross of a nervous grin and a suspicious glaze over his wavering eyes. But, after careful consideration and with both his sister and father's backs turned, Alberto wiggled back into his room to retrieve the precious pictures and put them carefully on the nightstand. He felt dirty knowing he'd tossed them onto his rumpled sheets, sitting there like he didn't care about them.

But he did.

He didn't expect to register all that had truly happened until tomorrow. His eyes dropped to the glass of tepid water from that morning and the pile of photos next to it, the memories coming back.

Luca's expectant yellow eyes watching him as he traced his shapes and scales with a paintbrush on the canvas.

When Luca grinned like a little puppy and pointed at the painting Alberto had propped on his knees, of none other than the boy himself.

Luca's chin jutting out in defiance when Alberto offered to take Luca's picture home, since keeping it at his home would only result in ruining it.

And, equally defying, the sharp curve of Luca's jawbone as he stuck his tongue out at the sky, leaving Alberto still. He could see his soft features working under there. The faint pulse of his throat, a thrumming instrument but all the same slightly animal. When he had rolled his eyes and begrudgingly scooted his own painting over with a claw, splattering water on the edge, Alberto's eyes fixed on his scales ripple and shift on display when Luca moved.

Somewhere on the surface of the ocean, (the ocean skin as Luca called it fondly, but Alberto couldn't possibly think of that now) a boat's amber light hung in the darkness, the only thing to see from outside and, Alberto bit his lip, holding one meaning.

They were hunting for sea monsters on that boat. Ercole's parents, no doubt.

He walked by the bed to the window, almost in a trance, and slammed it shut. The smells of the sea were cut off, night sounds silenced. He wished he wasn't able to see it anymore, but Massimo's aged house hardly had the proper plumbing to operate let alone some goddamn curtains. It frustrated him that though the mental image of Ercole's father on the boat had lifted, that glowing yellow light remained to taunt him.

Luca said he had a family. A mother and father who cared for him and maybe loved him enough to keep him safe from the surface. But where was he now? These men, more monsters than people, with spears and blades sharper than Massimo's, scanning the calm sea with searchlights? Would the lights scare Luca?

He caught himself on the ledge of the windowsill, holding the wood frame tight. He felt it sigh under his weight it was so old.

What was happening?

"Fratello! Papa is not happy that you're letting his dinner get cold! Again!" Giulia, as Alberto could tell by her voice, was pressed to his closed door and resorted to gleeful knocking again and again.

Alberto slid the lock into place on the window, staring out into the night for a breath. Once, twice, then cleared his throat and called back.

"I'll be just a minute!" He tried to wipe the thought of Luca thrashing in the grip of a fisherman's net from his mind as he spoke, but his words came out wobbly and restrained.

Giulia's annoying pounding on the door stopped. "Okay, but I'm not doing your stupid chores for you anymore! Papa says so!" He saw her shadow hover by the bottom doorframe then whisk away to the light of the kitchen.

But through all of the sweaty panic Alberto cherished the quiet moments spent eating. Neither asked where he'd hurried off to so early in the morning while he wolfed down his dinner. (Truly Alberto wasn't sure of the answer himself, he only figured that if Luca was indeed a sea monster, maybe he was up with the rising of the sun like the fish Massimo and Alberto caught at dawn). But they, mostly Giulia, did however beg to know where that pasta was going if all Alberto did during his free time was sit and draw. They didn't know it took grueling work to paddle out to the island, and equally challenging talent to wrestle your way out of a sea monster's grip. He kept that to himself, of course, even if Machiavelli was snippier than usual at Alberto's presence when he thought about it, bringing a suspicion on what he did during the day that neither Giulia or Massimo seemed to care about.

Alberto nudged the pouchy white cat with his bare foot and Machi bit down on his heel. He pulled his legs back under the chair as far as they could go and as an apology for the fishy smell on him, and for trying to make him move, he dropped a few pieces of sausage down on the floor. He was sure that if no one else in the house was to know, Machiavelli was on Alberto's case, but the cat only growled and ate the peace offering.

He sighed. He was safe for the time being. That made him laugh around his bite of salad.

"Think of something funny, son?" Massimo looked up from his plate. Giulia had finished long ago and was only spinning her fork around in circles on the tablecloth.

Alberto nodded with a smile. "The cat."

"Speaking of cats! There's one that I keep seeing in the alley by the Gelataria, Papa, and I think that Machiavelli likes her!" Giulia perked up and was speaking with passion to Massimo now, Alberto's little quip forgotten.

"The black cat? Giulia, they're bad luck," Massimo put on his best apologetic face but it only spurred Giulia on. Alberto stared at his empty plate and debated whether now was the opportune time to slip away to his room with them distracted.

"But please, Papa! We could have kittens!" Giulia pleaded, hands splayed on the table for effect. From under Alberto's chair Machi was stewing. He stood from the table and took their plates, looking calm. Massimo was holding Giulia's small hand softly in his larger one, but it looked as though the girl was next to tears.

Alberto knew she was faking it, though. He listened smugly with his back to them while rinsing the plates and cutlery.

"Kittens are a lot of work."

"Alberto is a lot of work, but we still keep him around!"

"Giuletta. Manners."

"Sorry, Papa."

"Where would they sleep, Giulia? In your bed with you? You are allergic, my dear."

"Only mildly! And besides, if I start sneezing or something, they can stay in Alberto's room! Plain and simple."

"Excuse me?" Alberto whipped around. "Who said that I was okay with having roommates?"

Giulia giggled until her nose went pink. "You've been sharing that Pescaria smell with the two of us since yesterday, and last I checked, we didn't ask. So think of it as an upgrade."

"Like you smell any better!"

"Actually, Alberto." Massimo turned to him. "It...is an odd smell on you. It's not entirely fish."

"Yeah fratello. It's worse."

"Okay, that's it. I'm excusing myself now. Giulia you get to pick the record to play tonight."

"Go take a shower!" Giulia hollered at him, earning a grumble of disapproval on Massimo's part.

"Y-Yeah, sure thing!"

But the whole time his mind was reeling. Massimo had caught it. Giulia had caught it. Even the cat noticed it, too. Alberto pulled his tank up and over his head once the door was shut, bringing it to his nose. It smelled like sweat and salt, the usual things, but he was right. There was something else. It was mild with his nose so close, but still sharp and tangy, as if the sea-sprinkled wind had a personality that stuck to his clothes.

But that wasn't it. It was...oh no.

It was Luca.

Despite his efforts, it took him a solid ten minutes of scrubbing in the shower to get rid of Luca's smell. It wasn't that he hated it, he was used to smelling like fish from hours spent on Massimo's boat--but Machi had kept Alberto up almost all night yesterday, growling and scratching at Alberto's door because of the smell on him.

From in the kitchen, Giulia had chosen one of Massimo's more upbeat records to listen to while they finished cleaning up. He could hear her off-key singing, and Massimo's baritone jumping in with her, which made him smile.

The polaroids were still there, sticking out from underneath a sliver of the water glass. But of course they were, why wouldn't they be? Door locked, window overlooking the sea mostly covered, Alberto let his bath towel fall to his ankles. A line of shower water tickled his chin, or maybe it was sweat, he wasn't sure. He needed to get dressed. But he picked up the first of five photos.

A blurry little square of the pool that morning, just to test the camera, but around the edges sprigs of grass sprouted up through cracks in the island rock, making the picture much more beautiful than he thought.

The next three were of Luca. All taken as close to the top of the water as Alberto could get, too afraid to stick a hand under and gesture Luca to the surface, and also because it wasn't his camera. Body curled under the water, examining things along the walls of the pool too far to see, tail moving slow and practiced. His dorsal fins were the only things that translated best over film, a brilliant cool blue that Alberto had checked (and double-checked) he had the right color paint for.

He let out a tiny sigh at the final photo. Luca facing him from below, his expression a scowl, looking so human it was hard to believe that he wasn't.

But, as Alberto's fingers pinched the corners of the photos, of Luca, holding his breath as he knew it was definitely sweat he was now feeling on his neck, wasn't he human?

His chest ached, drumming a painful harmony from his frantic heart all the way down his abdomen, and if he moved the photos from his line of vision and looked down--

Oh no.

He relentlessly put everything he had into hurrying to throw on some clothes and turn off the lights. crawling into bed, so transfixed on the polaroids and—was it possible? Really? Had he just…?

No. He refused to encourage that line of thinking.

Luca was a sea monster, and probably asleep someplace far below the surface with his family, dreaming of seaweed or whatever else things that were not human thought about.

But, as Alberto lay there rigid and aching, staring at the ceiling waiting for that to go away, part of him wished he could be there with him. To make sure he was okay.

Pfft, sure. Make sure he's alright. That's all.

/ / /

Luca was not dreaming of seaweed.

But he was convinced he had died in his sleep, over a dream of soft touches. Phantom hands running down his scales, someone's calloused fingertips grazing the hollow of his throat so tenderly it made Luca squirm. Luca grabbed his imaginary person's forearm, begging to be touched. One hand remained tracing patterns on his chest while Luca felt another take hold of the side of his face, rubbing circles into his gills until he was sure he was going to pass out from the stimulation. He was so...sensitive there. Around his cheeks and his gills and especially his tail. But all he could do was tilt his face back in guilty bliss and allow whatever was happening to him to continue.

He'd never in all of his years had a dream quite like this.

"P-Please..." Luca whispered. Please stop, or please keep going? Even he didn't know.

He swore he heard a chuckle echo, a familiar chuckle, a confident one, but some sort of reaction all the same.

Luca blinked in his dream, almost crying out because the touch was gone, but then he realized it had only moved. The imaginary touches returned, this time a cool fingertip along his dorsal fin to his tail, while Luca shivered around it, biting his cheek. His legs twitched, and his tail curled around the forearm of this imaginary hand, feeling safe and comfortable enough to do so even if it was touching him in ways his mother had warned him about. The air around him (around them? no one was there) felt absurdly warm, but he realized it was only coming from his scales. The smell that hung in the air was overpowering, thick and heady in sweetness with just a trace of salt that Luca could almost taste in the air. A familiar smell...

He couldn't take much more of it. He had to wake up before...something happened. Something bad.

The cold water of his bedroom startled him into consciousness, the subdued blues and greys in much starker contrast to the tropical greens he'd dreamt of. That white-hot feeling came back, this time stronger and with a ripple of pain that burned in the pit of his stomach. When he opened his eyes the water around his bed felt warmer, like it had in the dream, and when Luca stretched out a hand his fingers were cool though his forearm was not, as if he was the one causing all of this heat.

Huh. Weird.

The last memories of the dream were still a thick haze on his thoughts, racing around and replaying the scenes over and over again until Luca buried his face into the sewn kelp of his bed to keep from whimpering.

He let his hand press to his belly, where it hurt the most, then slip down the waistband of his pants to rest between his legs. His fingers came back covered in something slick.

"Alberto..." Luca whined, rolling onto his stomach to alleviate some of the discomfort.

His eyes flung open. Alberto?

Oh.

Oh no.

#luca #luca fanfiction #luca movie #luberto #luberto fanfic #alberto x luca #alberto and luca #alberto scorfano #luca2021 #luca paguro #luca pixar

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nose-bandaid · 4 years

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그해 그 달 그날 (that year, that month, that day)

i Need a yanan fluff please! how about fluffy/angst one of him being really tired because hes recently just rejoined the group but loving being back and just needing some comfort and cuddles 🙁🙁

Yanan x (Gender Neutral) Reader fluff (with some angst) | 2.1k words

synopsis: yanan has finally returned to his group for promotions — and he’s elated, the happiest he’s ever been — yet he feels so tired. so, so tired. and so he comes to you for some comfort, and maybe some cuddles and sweet reassurances along the way.

a/n: hi yanon anon !! i hope that i got what you were going for with your prompt! i really like writing this i didn’t know how much i needed this yanan comfort + fluff until i finished it. i hope you enjoy reading it! :)

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You were just finishing up some of the last chores on your to-do list when your phone rang from the other side of the room. Skipping over the objects littered all over the floor (it’s funny how in order to clean, you sometimes had to make a mess first), you glanced at the screen and titled your head a little out of confusion when the caller ID read Yanannie. Not that it was unusual for your boyfriend to contact you throughout the day — you guys would text each other whenever you had the time to — but he rarely called unless it was something serious. He’d already established the fact that he preferred texting over calling, so a hint of worry laced your voice when you picked up.

“Hello?”

Yanan didn’t hesitate to get straight to the point. “Are you free tonight?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

There was some distant chatter on his side of the line and it sounded like he was trying to move away from it. “Can I come over? At like 7?”

“Sure,” The conversation stalled for a moment before you spoke again. “Is everything alright?”

Just like last time, he answered without missing a beat. “Yeah, I just want to come over.”

“Okay… Then I’ll see you at 7. I love you.”

You heard him mutter a soft “I love you” back before the mumbling near him grew louder and he quickly hung up, leaving you all alone.

You reasoned that the conversation was so awkward and rushed because he was busy — the group was in the middle of their promotions after all. But despite his words, all that call told you was that everything was in fact, not alright. The clock on your wall told you that you still had a couple hours to get all your work done and you sped through the tasks as fast as you could.

By the time it was 6:00 (5:56 if you wanted to be really exact) everything was complete and you scrolled through your phone in search of a recipe you could follow. You weren’t the most amazing cook out there, but you could definitely make a few basic dishes, and hopefully, you’ll be able to make some sort of comfort food for him. Your eyes caught a familiar name and you looked through the recipe. If you recalled correctly, he really liked that dish, and the process didn’t seem to be that difficult either.

And so, you got up from the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around you and headed to the kitchen to chop up the ingredients. Not too long after you began doing so, you heard the door knock and you panicked. Yanan wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, and you were definitely nowhere near finishing the dish. You abandoned your little workstation and made your way to the door, in which you opened to come face to face with your boyfriend.

Though the man in front of you looked nothing like the Yanan you were used to seeing.

The last time you got to meet with him in person was about a week ago, when you joined his group for a company dinner. Back then, he seemed perfectly fine, laughing along with the others, looking absolutely stunning in the outfit he had on. But now, even the hat he had on refused to hide the messy strands of hair poking in all sorts of directions, and his posture was hunched, as if the weight of his backpack was far more than he could handle. He had his cute round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t hide the dark bags underneath his eyes, which lacked the mischievous glint he usually had when he was with you.

“Yanan… You look like a mess.” You pointed out meekly, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

He let out a small pitiful laugh and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

You stepped back to allow him into your house and waited for him to take off his coat and set his bag down before engulfing him into a warm hug. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you spoke up. “I was going to make you some food, but you came a little earlier than expected so I’ve just barely started.”

“Let’s just order takeout, don’t worry about cooking.” He muttered tiredly into the crook of your neck, his lips cold from the weather outside. “And I’m sorry, I know I came earlier than I said I would, I just really wanted to see you.”

You chuckled as you pulled apart, leaving a hand resting on his chest. “And I’ve missed you too. How about you take a shower while I’ll prepare some things to help you calm down?” You suggested.

He nodded silently and disappeared to your room. He’d stayed over enough times for you to have some of his spare clothes tucked in your closet, in case of any impromptu visits, like right now. As you heard the shower start to run, you returned to your kitchen and packed away all the ingredients you had prepared — you could always just use those later in some other dish — and then picked up your phone to dial his favourite Chinese restaurant. It was a small shop near your house that you first visited together a year ago and it quickly became a hidden treasure to Yanan. He loved the fact that it was always bustling with locals who respected his privacy and had some of the best food that reminded him of home. The owner laughed when she recognized your voice and order.

“I have some extra desserts that I don’t think we’ll be selling tonight, I’ll add them in there for Yanan. I know he likes them.” She added sweetly. She was like any generic auntie down the street, always taking care of the people she met, but you loved for that and smiled through the receiver.

“Sure, that sounds great. Thank you so much”

You spent the next few minutes cozy-ing up the couch a little bit, grabbing a blanket from your room, and preparing a laptop so that you could watch the latest episodes of your favourite drama that aired a few days ago. You were in the midst of grabbing yourself a glass of water when Yanan walked out of the bathroom, towel resting on his matted wet hair as he dried himself off.

“Feeling any better?” You asked gently and he made his way over to the couch to join you under the blanket.

“A little, yeah.” He replied, nestling into the comfort of the cushions.

“I ordered the food, it should be here in about half an hour,” You continued. “And we’ve got some episodes we gotta catch up on so we can watch those while we wait.”

He simply nodded at your words, humming just the slightest bit. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at your finger hovering over the laptop. You pursed your lips at his reaction and drew back into yourself, daring to ask him the question that’s been on your mind since he called you.

“Yanan… are you sure everything’s alright?”

He sighed and rubbed his face, you could practically feel the fatigue radiating off of him. Before he answered, he snuggled closer into your body. “Everything is alright, like I’m finally back with the boys and we’re all together again and promotions are going well, so how can things not be alright? Everything’s perfect…” His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze from yours.

“And yet I find it so hard to wake up everyday, I’m just so tired. I love doing this, I love seeing the fans and going to practice and sharing our new songs, but I’m so tired that I’m starting to get sick of this. Sure, everyone else is tired too, I know they are, but no one else seems to have it as bad as I am… I don’t know if I’m fit for being an idol anymore.” He paused again, and then added quietly.

“I don’t want to have to leave again, I want to keep on going.”

At a loss for what to say, you simply kissed him on the forehead and pulled him closer. “It’s okay to be tired, you know that right? That doesn’t make you any less of an idol, or a person, even. You wanna talk more about anything?”

For the next while, you listened to him talk about the good and the bad of his return, commenting here and there to reassure his thoughts. The toll, not just physical, but emotional as well, his recent return had on him was evident and your heart clenched at his tired state.

The food came not much later and you spent the time eating as if you were in another world. Worries were pushed aside as you told each other silly stories and jokes about your friends, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his mood lift and his eyes sparkle once again. Even if it was just a little bit. You loved all sides of Yanan, but this was by far your favourite, and you wanted to keep him in this happy mood for as long as you possibly could.

One episode of your drama and many mouthfuls of the delicious food later, you found the two of you settling on the comfy couch once again. He rested his head on your lap, body stretched across the length of the couch and dangling on the other end a little bit. His hair had finally dried off and now its platinum strands were fluffy, enticing you to to run a hand through them. You giggled when they flopped back onto his forehead and continued doing so lovingly.

“Sorry to come over all of a sudden and be all needy.” He apologized. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry about something like this. I understand you’re tired, and like I said, it’s okay to be tired, you’re only human, Yanan. If you’re concerned about my day, it was fine, nothing special honestly, but today is all about you, okay?”

He let you gently pinch his cheek to make your point.

You pulled back the sleeve of your sweater to reveal the simple string bracelet that wrapped around your wrist over and over again. “You remember that day?”

He smirked softly. “How could I forget?” He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet in a different colour. “I asked the stylists to incorporate it into my outfit today so I could wear it on the stage and think of you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled. “Do you remember what we promised each other on that day?”

There was a short moment of silence as he recalled his memories. “That we wouldn’t give up?”

“That we wouldn’t give up.” You echoed. “No matter how hard it got, we’ll push through it.”

Life sucked at times. You both knew that. And sometimes it just sucked so bad and you aren’t able to do much about it. Especially with your busy schedules, moreso his busy schedule, seeing each other was difficult and chances to comfort each other physically was scarce. You could understand how the recent events would’ve affected him.

“You’re really strong, you know that?” You added in a whisper, and he sighed.

“I do… I’m just not feeling it today.”

“And that’s fine, it’ll come back to you soon.”

He nodded at your words. “Can I spend the night?” He then asked softly.

“Of course,” You answered, you were still playing with his hair, although your actions were a little more absentminded now. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“Mm, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over, but I’ve never felt this relaxed in so long.” He apologized anyways, as he stretched in your lap, looking almost like a cat with his long body, and his eyes stared up into yours. “I love you.”

You just smiled back, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep on your lap, eyelids fluttering every so often as he entered a deep slumber. Eventually your legs began to feel a little numb from the weight of his body on yours, but you didn’t do anything about it. Not when he was finally able to rest for the first time in a while. Soon enough, you also fell asleep on the couch, not in the very best position, admittedly, though that was a problem to deal with in the morning. Things like that could wait.

So yeah, life did suck at times. But if you had each other by your sides, you both knew you could get through it. And that “getting through it” could also mean taking a break, taking a moment to recollect yourself, before continuing that long run ahead of you.

And it’s okay if you need to take a break.

#pentagon fanfic #pentagon yanan #yanan #yanan fanfic #yanan x reader #pentagon fluff #pentagon angst #yanan fluff #yanan angst #requests #nose-bandaid

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superspookywombat · 4 years

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falling {j.h} chapter eleven

Warnings: a few swear words I think, theyre not too bad though, i didn’t proof read i was too excited to post lol

Taglist: i’m moving it to the comments (or at least I’m going to try to so i’d appreciate it if you could let me know if it works :)

A/n: this chapter’s a bit longer than usual. I’m not totally in love with it but i know i’ve kept you all waiting long enough (oops) hope you enjoy!!

Everything was still. You laid in a sterile room, your torn and bloody clothes dried to a vinyl cot in the middle of the room. Jasper wouldn’t let Alice change your clothes, he wouldn’t even let anyone near you. He sat at your side, never taking his eyes off of you once. The venom was taking longer than usual to take over, leaving Carlisle intrigued. Jasper was worried that his venom didn’t work, but was instantly reassured by Alice that you would wake up.

It was three nights after you’d been bitten that you began the early stages of transformation. You weren’t awake just yet, but every so often your heart would stutter and slow. Jasper listened closely, and tried his best to radiate calmness for you even though he was feeling everything but. He couldn’t feel anything around you, which was something he wasn’t used to. The rest of the Cullens gave him as much space as possible, almost as if he was grieving. He was grieving, though, because he knew this was the end of an era. This officially ended things between him and Alice. He felt guilty for leaving her by herself, but he knew she was a strong woman and would be better off without him.

“You don’t have to be sorry, you know.” Alice said, approaching him a few weeks ago. He didn’t understand what she was referring to.

“You’re in love with her, Jasper. And that’s okay.” She said softly, reassuring the conflicted cowboy.

“We were supposed to be together for the rest of our lives.” Jasper had responded, his heart dropping at the sight of Alice’s sad smile. She cupped his cheek in her small hand and he leaned into her touch.

“I know. But this is the start of a new life.” She said. He paused, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he knew.

“Thank you, Alice.” He said, his voice no more than a whisper. He was sure if vampires could cry that tears would be running down his scarred cheeks. She never responded, they just sat in silence while she held him, their love still as strong as the day they met, just displaced.

Five days after being bitten you started visually reacting to the venom. Sometimes your hand would flinch, or your eyelids would twitch. Mostly, whimpers escaped through your clenched jaw. Your body was changing dramatically, you got slimmer in sections but filled out in others, your lips got plumper and your hair got thicker and shinier. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, not that you’d do anything but throw away the outfit you had on. Jasper finally started to calm a little, but was still on edge because he knew the upcoming part was arguably the hardest.

Eleven days after you were bitten you had the ability to be conscious, though most of the time you weren’t from the unbearable pain. Your screams were heard throughout the house, including a small part of the surrounding forest causing the Cullens to have a new-found appreciation for the seclusiveness of their house. Bella had visited you multiple times, but Edward wouldn’t let her get too close in case you suddenly awoke and decided that she was going to be your first meal. Being right next to you while you suffered hurt Jasper too. He could feel your anguish, your confusion. When you’d cry out, he’d groan; when you’d squeeze his hand, his other one would crush the armrest of his chair.

Fourteen days after you were bitten, the pain finally died down. You were unconscious again as the final stage of transforming took place, making major changes in your body- including your heart. Jasper could hear your heart straining to keep up with the venom, but eventually it gave in and stopped altogether. Jasper sat still, waiting anxiously for the next step. A thump at the large glass window had made him jump, which was unusual for a vampire because they were rarely startled. Another thump made him stand, and after another he called for Esme. Birds ran into the windows a lot because of how clean she kept them, and if they were injured either her or Carlisle would aid it. Esme had rushed to his side immediately, most of the Cullens were sat just outside of the room incase of an update on your condition. As soon as she entered, Jasper watched as her eyebrows knitted together. She strode forward and reached to open the window, and almost immediately the room was invaded by multiple birds. Jasper jumped to hover over your body protectively while Esme yelled at the birds to get out. Hearing all of the commotion, Rosalie and Emmett entered the room. Rose helped Esme shoo the birds while Emmett walked over to the window.

“Oh hell yeah!” Emmett laughs, clapping his hands. Once the window was closed, leaving the birds to sit on the balcony, Jasper felt it was safe enough to leave you unprotected. He walks over to see what Emmett was talking about, only to see a bear standing on its hind legs, pawing in the direction of the window.

“Good God.” Jasper says, his jaw ajar. Esme walks over, her expression just as shocked as the boys’.

“It’s like a pizza delivery!” Emmett exclaimes. He places two of his huge hands on Rosalie’s shoulders. “But instead of pizza- it’s a bear!”

“Em, why is there a bear waving at you?” Rosalie asks him. Alice entered the room so quietly that no one had noticed she was there.

“It’s here for y/n.” She says. Jasper whirls around, his eyebrows pulling down to frame his scowl.

“What are you talking about?” He asks. Her eyes glaze over as she stares into the distance, and Jasper rushes to her side and holds her upright.

“I can see it.. She’s calling them..” Alice says. Jasper glances at your unmoving body. A squirrel leaps from a tree that hangs over the balcony, and scratches at the glass.

“Calling them how?” Esme asks softly. Alice snaps out of her vision, blinking a few times until she sees clearly again. Carlisle walks into the room, followed by Edward and Bella.

“They can sense her pain, she’s reaching out for help and she doesn’t even realize it.” Alice says. A creak from the bed diverts everyone’s eyes to you.

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

After feeling nothing but unbearable pain for what seemed like forever, it was almost instantaneously that it went away. As if a bucket of water was poured onto your burning body, the flames were extinguished. You could hear before you could see; you could hear so many different things at once. The flutter of a bird’s wings, the rhythmic beat of a heart- who’s heart? Then you heard him. It sounded like him, but clearer. As if someone had flipped a switch to turn his voice into HD. You could hear Emmett and Esme too, along with a melodic unfamiliar voice. Then Alice’s voice. Everyone spoke in worried, hush tones. Worry ran through you, what was wrong? Did something happen? Then, your eyes flutter open.

You sit up with a gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for your throat. It felt so dry that you were sure that if you tried to speak, nothing would come out. The first thing you saw was Esme, a worried expression plastered on her face. You turn your head to find Jasper, but the speed at which you turn takes you by surprise. You lift your hand from your throat, holding it in front of your face. The paleness of your skin shocks you. Actually, everything about your hand does. The room is silent as you place your other hand next to the first one, staring at both in confusion. You don’t recognize them, the only similar factor being the red nail polish you applied the night before. You pull up your sleeve, and you flinch when a loud ripping noise bounces off of the walls. Pinched between your thumb and first finger is bloody fabric. You’re too bothered by your sudden strength to notice that your arms, like your hands, have no freckles or moles. You twist your arm to look at your elbow, surprised to see that the huge scar you got when you were eight is no longer there.

“Y/n?” You hear Jasper say. You over at him, his beauty leaving you wordless. Sunlight from the window streams through the mop of his blond hair, leaving it looking like pure gold. His pale skin glitters- wait, glitters? You stand up, looking down at your bare feet and bloody pants.

“Jasper?” You ask. Your brain swirls as you think about what happened the night before, but as soon as you smell the dried blood on your clothes you shudder. “I.. I died.”

“We’ll let you two talk alone.” Esme says softly, walking over to Jasper like she’s balancing on eggshells. She leans to say something in his ear. “We’ll be right outside if you need us.”

Jasper approaches you slowly as Esme, Emmett, and the blonde girl exit the room. He keeps his distance, but reaches out to hesitantly take your hand. You let him, and his skin no longer feels cold.

“What’s going on?” You ask, your voice not even sounding like it belongs to you. He glances over your shoulder, and you turn to see what he’s looking at. Three deer stand underneath the trees outside of the window, seemingly watching you two.

“Y/n.. I had no choice.” Jasper says, his voice sounding unusually stressed. You look down once more at your bloody clothes.

“Had no choice about what?” You ask. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but then closes it again. “Jasper what’s going on? I feel like I’m going crazy. I could have sworn I.. died. I thought I died. But you saved me? And I’m okay now? Did you tell Dr Cullen to do some sort of risky procedure and bring me back to life?”

“You did.” He says. You furrow your eyebrows, unsure of which thing you said he’s responding to. “Die, I mean.”

“Very funny. Just tell me what happened, I probably won’t be mad. Charlie might be though.” You reply, wishing he’d just blurt it out.

“My family and I.. we aren’t normal.” He says. Okay..?

“Well one look at Edward and that becomes pretty obvious. Not sure what it has to do with what’s going on here though.” You say sarcastically.

“I’m serious. We aren’t like anyone you’ve ever met before.” He says. You sit and wait for him to finish monologuing- which is what he clearly wants. “I’m not as old as you think I am.. I was born as Jasper Whitlock in 1844. My family and I are immortal.”

You wait for him to say more- for him to laugh and tell you Bella put him up to a prank or something. He stays silent.

“You’re serious? Like, immortal as in you were born in 1844 and you haven’t aged a day and you can’t die and you’ve been through highschool like a million times and-” You ramble, still waiting for him to come clean about the joke. “And.. you’re a vampire?”

“Yes.” He answers shortly. You scoff.

“Bullshit.” You say, anger coursing through your veins. He looks taken aback as you gesture wildly. “I’m not as gullible as my sister thinks, okay? So you can go and run to her and tell her that her stupid prank isn’t funny.”

“Y/n, I-” He starts.

“No! I don’t like being made fun of.” You growl. You turn to walk towards the balcony. As much as you’d like to leave, he still needs to explain what happened the night before, unless that was somehow a part of the sick joke. As you go to step forward, Jasper places a hand on your upper arm. You shake off his hand and he falls forward a little, making your mind swirl. You step forward and instantly you’re zooming through the air and through the glass doors. You try to catch yourself on the metal railing of the balcony, only for it to bend, letting you fall two stories to the ground.

“What the hell?” You exclaim. You look at your body, which looks and feels unscathed. Jasper runs out of the you-sized hole in the door, jumping off of the balcony and landing on his feet next to you with a ‘thud’. Soon, undoubtedly drawn by the noise, Emmett and Dr Cullen ran- teleported (?) over to you guys. “So.. Uh.. You were saying?”

“Two weeks ago, you were attacked by another immortal. They were here for your sister and while we were fighting a flock of newborn vampires, one broke off from the rest of them and came to your house. He.. he killed you. I made the decision to bite you.” Jasper says, his voice seemingly shaking. Your mind swims as you try to piece together what he just said. Two weeks? But it was just last night. He bit me? Am I an immortal- or vampire now?

“So.. you decided my fate? Whether to let me die or make me a vampire? I am a vampire, right?” You ask slowly, still trying to figure it out. You hear a rapid heartbeat thumping behind you, and you turn to see those three deer watching you a few yards away. You want them to come closer, something about them drawing you to them. As if you had asked them, they slowly trot closer, until they are about an arm’s reach away. You can hear a whooshing sound- the blood running through their veins? Your mouth could water as you deeply inhale, a delicious scent filling your nostrils. You can sense their trance-like state almost radiating off of them as they walk closer. Jasper gets closer to you, as do Emmett and the Doctor. You almost unconsciously lunge at the unsuspecting animal, until another scent hits you. Why was I about to attack that animal? To.. drink it’s blood? The scent is much sweeter than the deers’, it smells more appetizing than anything you’ve ever smelled before. You want it more than anything you’ve ever wanted before. You rush to your feet and sprint around the corner of the house and down the driveway, only to see Bella being rushed into Edward’s car. Your hands shake and your throat burns as her scent surrounds you. Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re crouched in an offensive position. Someone wraps their arms around you before you can lunge, and the scent lets you know it’s Jasper.

“Y/n.. y/n, stop!” Jasper commands as you struggle against his grip, and soon Emmett is there to help him. Your throat feels like it’s going to catch fire and burn into a crisp. You groan as you try to claw out of their grip, but they don’t let up. You sink to your knees, Jasper and Emmett following you to the ground, and anguish rushes through you. Birds caw as they circle around in the air. A bear dazedly walks out of the forest, his eyes glazed over. The deer from earlier walk towards you, not affected by the loud noises. Squirrels run down from trees and snakes slither out from the forest floor coverings. A fat racoon waddles out from behind a pile of logs while two elk walk out of the woods. Alice, Esme, and the other girl come outside. Everyone is silent as they look around in amazement, creatures from all over surround the front of the house where you kneel.

Alice is the first to speak, a small smile on her lips as she utters the words, “She’s a Thiriokinetic.”

#edward cullen #alice cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #Emmett Cullen #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #fanfic #fanfiction #twilight #twilight x reader #chapter 11

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xoluvx · 5 years

Text

Sativa - P.P x Fem!Reader

This would have been great to post on 420, but it’s October and I hit a 420 mark in my following – so guess what? It’s going up now. I’ve had this idea for a while, actually. One, because high Peter would probably be the cutest most paranoid person and two, because high Peter would probably be a sex god. You didn’t hear it from me, but high sex is probably the best and I want that with Peter.

Warning: smoking, cursing and smut

Word Count: 2.5K

- - -

“Are you nervous?” you were sitting across a very nervous Peter. Crisscross apple sauce. The only sounds: the thumping of his heart and your own voice echoing in your ears. Peter nodded. But you already knew he was nervous from the way his chest fell and rose rapidly.

Peter was a good and noble boy. He was Spider-Man, after all. You knew that. You respected his decisions to stay sober at parties; in case he got called in to ‘work’. Safe the world and what not. So, you tried it all for him. Shot of tequila? Check. Beer pong? Check. As long as Peter was your partner, you were happy to drink for the team.

But there was one thing you were curious about trying with Peter. Something you knew he’d benefit from, having seen the anxiety that overtook him after certain missions and patrolling sessions. And somehow, he had agreed. So here you were, currently sitting in your bathtub near the window. It was cracked opened to release the smell that was about to engulf your bodies.

“Nothing to be nervous about,” you assured placing a hand on Peter’s knee. You felt like a bad influence. But you weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t feel the slightest bit satisfied with yourself. You were getting Peter to do something he’d never done; it was almost like taking his virginity. Something you were still salty about.

Yes, Peter had sex. No, you did not take Peter’s virginity, but you really wished you had. But was that weird to say about your best friend?

“So, how does this work?” Peter asked shifting his weight in the small tub. It was actually big, but not big enough for the two of you. Your hands were buried into the pockets of your oversized zip up hoodie. Peter watched you closely. In one hand, you held a pink lighter. He’d seen it around before, laying on the kitchen table but he’d assumed it belonged to one of your roommates. On the other hand, you held a thin brown stick. It reminded him of a cinnamon stick.

“It’s not cinnamon,” you joked watching his eyes focus on it. You were starting to feel nervous. You don’t know why. You’d done this before. But there was something about wide-eyed Peter, looking like a lost puppy Peter, that was really getting your heart pumping. More than usual.

“So, I’m going to start it. Don’t be scared,” your voice was gentle, like talking to a baby. Let’s be honest, Peter was baby. You locked eyes with Peter briefly, before angling the blunt upward. Your thumb flicking the lighter on.

Though the bathroom lights were on, the flame instantly brightened your face, leaving Peter in a trance. You looked like an angel? What a weird thing to think whilst committing an unholy act.

You brought the lighter close to the blunt, running the flame along the tip until you saw the sparks fly and heard the familiar crackling of the swisher. You dropped the lighter somewhere outside the tub, eager to finally share with Peter a little piece of heaven.

Peter gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He was nervous. But watching you calmly go through the routine of lighting the blunt somehow brought him a sense of calmness. That didn’t change the fact that he had no idea what to do. He’d never smoked, what the hell was he supposed to do?

You held the blunt between you thumb and index finger, bringing the brown stick to your lips which were slightly parted. Peter watched your lips wrap around the swisher. He was amazed. He knew you’d smoked before. But he could tell you weren’t a rookie by the way you inhaled smoothly, cheeks hallowed. And the way you exhaled the smoke through your nose, clouding your lips.

Your eyes were focused on Peter as you exhaled. Hand extending the blunt towards a very panicked Peter. A noise came out of Peter while his body retracted from the blunt as if it was going to bite him. “I don’t know how,” he mumbled.

“Just try,” you said shoving the blunt to him. His hands were trembling as he held on to it, the same way you had. He looked at it for a few seconds, probably giving himself a silent speech, before placing it between his lips. His brows furrowed. He inhaled shakily.

He shoved the blunt back at you after his attempt at exhaling, but before you could grab the blunt, he was a coughing mess. His face buried in his arm trying to control his coughing. Your hands went up in alarm, as you moved closer to him. “Are you okay, Pete?” you asked, concerned. He nodded, head still buried in his arm, waving you off.

You felt horrible. But did you want to stop? Of course not. No, you hadn’t made a dent in the blunt. Plus, that weak puff Peter took wasn’t going to have the effect he was curious about.

Suddenly, a lightbulb lit up above your head. Something you’d tried once before. Something that a beginner, like Peter, might be able to handle.

“Be ready to inhale,” you spoke keeping your eyes on him, making sure he processed the information. His throat was burning from the coughing and his eyes were slightly watery, but he nodded. Hands back on his thighs watching you bring the blunt to your lips. You inhaled as much smoke as possible, holding it.

Peter’s breath hitched feeling your face coming close. You were face to face. You were expecting Peter to open his mouth, ready to inhale, but he was stunned. You couldn’t hold the smoke any longer, so you cupped his face opening his mouth slightly motioning with your eyes for him to inhale.

Peter nodded. You exhaled watching the smoke disappear behind Peter’s lips. He inhaled. Barely. Some of the smoke escaping between your faces. He needed to inhale at the same rate you exhaled and this had been a total fail. But you reminded yourself, patience.

“Let’s do it again,” you stated repeating the motion of inhaling the smoke. You held it, supporting your weight by holding on to Peter’s shoulder bringing him closer. Face to face, lips parted, you exhaled into his mouth. Peter, having learned from before, inhaled slowly keeping up with you.

Peter cleared his throat, “I think I got it that time.”

You smiled, eyes shining with accomplishment. You knew it wasn’t going to take much for Peter to be high. This was his first time, after all. So, if he was going to be high high, so were you. You took another puff from the blunt, watching Peter’s eye linger on you. His tongue was slightly peeking through his teeth and you watched him intensely as you inhaled and exhaled on his face.

“Want to try on your own again?” you asked handing the blunt to him. But he shook his head. He didn’t want to have another coughing fit.

“Let’s try that thing again,” he replied eagerly motioning with his hands between your bodies. You chuckled, nodding your head approvingly before positioning yourself so your knees were touching his, face to face.

The smoke disappeared into Peter’s mouth. Unlike last time, you were a lot closer to him. So much so that your lips almost touched. Almost.

It hadn’t been more than a few minutes and few more hits from the blunt, that you started to notice Peter’s attention slip.

What you didn’t know was that Peter was tingling all over. It was almost like his spidey senses were heightened. He was alert; he could see the underlying vibrant hues of your maroon hoodie, he could hear the beating of your heart thumping at ease, his fingertips felt funny, and the smell of the weed floating around your bathroom was potent. But at the same time, he felt like he was fading into nothing. His chest felt tight. But he felt – simply put – ecstatic. Relaxed. And giggly. Very very gliggly.

And you couldn’t help but join right in the soft laughter that was filling up your bathroom.

You were drifting into your own little world when you felt something on your cheek. Your eyes shot open, chest beating hard from the sudden contact. Only to realize it was Peter, a very high Peter, touching your face. His eyes were concentrated in the motion of his fingertips dancing on your cheek. Like you were a new found species.

“You’re so soft,” Peter mumbled brushing your face with his knuckles. You laughed, but simultaneously felt your chest tighten. Maybe from the weed, or maybe from the fact that Peter was right here. High in your bathroom, touching your damn face like it was the softest blanket in the world.

It was like this unseen force was pulling you close to him. Like his fingertips were pleading to come closer. To close the gap that was shared. Then you remembered how his lips almost touched yours and you felt the sudden tingle all over your body, traveling all the way down between your legs. This time, you were sure it was more than just the weed.

The pull was overbearing. Consuming your every thought, and there were a lot of thoughts going through your head at this moment. And Peter, well Peter’s other hand was on your shoulder kneading at the fabric of your hoodie. Hand slightly curling up to cup your neck. A big goofy smile on his face, his eyes glazed over, eyebrows curved in bliss.

The gravitational pull won. Your lips brushed against his softly. Peter wasn’t sure if it was the fuzzy feeling from being high or if it was actually your lips. But he wanted to find out. He tilted his head towards yours, his lips capturing yours gently. Lips pressed against each other. No movement. Just contact. Peter’s lips were soft like cotton candy and just as sweet. Maybe sweeter.

You melted into his touch. His hand still caressing your cheek, the other cupping the back of your neck as his lips started moving. The kiss was tentative before tongues joined. Sloppily kissing, mingling, and familiarizing themselves with one another. A silent introduction – apart from the heavy breathing.

Your hands weaved into his hair as your body hovered over his; his head tilting back adjusting to your movements. You felt one of his hands tugging at your hoodie. Without hesitation, you let go of his hair fumbling with the fabric of your hoodie; you wanted it off. Right now.

You knew what was happening right now. But it was also like your brain didn’t know. It was like you were thinking with your body rather than your brain. You wanted to feel his skin on yours. His fingertips on every part of your body. You were aching for his touch. His fingertips were fire on your cheek, yet you longed for more.

After discarding your hoodie somewhere behind you, you overpowered Peter. Straddling his waist, your weight pushed on his as your lips connected and reconnected in a needier kiss. Ravenous.

You had sex before. You had high sex before. Nothing compared to the out-of-body experience of having sex while high. And right now, you wanted Peter to experience that for the first time. With you.

“Are you sure, Pete?” you whispered against his lips feeling his hands grip your ass moving your hips on his groin. His eyes were blood shot, lips puffy, as he nodded his head whispering yes before capturing your lips once again.

You shivered feeling the cold of the bathtub on your back, nipples erect against his chest. But the feeling of him, buried deep in you, made you feel warm. You hadn’t been in this position for more than a few minutes and you felt yourself closing in around Peter. The overwhelming feeling of your high mixed with the repeated thrusts against your g-spot had you seeing stars. You were on cloud 9, despite being pressed against the cold marble of your tub.

Peter had his eyes shut closed; bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he held your leg around his waist. His thrusts were long and slow, you could feel every ridge of his cock. He’d almost completely pull out before pushing back in against your cervix. You could almost feel the sweet release. The feeling was unbearable, yet so pleasurable.

You remembered how it felt to be on top of him just a few minutes before. Hips rocking as your walls molded around his cock. His hands gripping your ass, hips raising matching your movements every so often. You thought nothing could be better than the feeling of bouncing on him as he buried his face in your neck. But you were wrong. You were so wrong because this new position, though plain, was fueling your entire being.

It was like your soul had left your body, but you were still there. Peter was making you feel things you couldn’t explain. How was it possible for sweet, innocent Peter to make you feel this way?

Peter was close, too. You could feel the grip on your thigh tightening as his thrusts grew slower, but harder. Slamming into you like there was no tomorrow. Just you and him in this moment, forever.

Your fingernails dug into his back; lips pressed against his shoulder. Your whimpers and moans muffled by his sweaty skin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the tightness; the need to release and unravel under his touch. Your hips moved against his, matching his thrusts and a low groan escaped Peter’s lips.

A string of curses mixed with your name slipped through his lips as you felt him twitch; your pussy clenching around his cock as you felt yourself coming undone. The built up hit you like a truck, train. Fireworks went off. You’d completely exited your body and had transported to a mystical world.

The weight of Peter’s body on yours brought you back to reality. The soft breathing, the hard beating of his heart on your chest. Bliss. You felt sheer bliss.

“Did we?” Peter asked, not because he was uncertain, but because he wanted this to be real. He wanted to know this wasn’t a dream.

“Yeah,” you breathed holding his body close, staring at your ceiling. It was still just your ceiling and you were still just in your bathroom. But it was different. Things around you were different. The color of your pink shower curtain was brighter, the smell of the air freshener was potent mixed with the remnants of the weed, the sound of Peter’s heavy breathing was louder yet harmonious, Peter’s body pressed on yours felt warmer, and the taste of his salty skin was intoxicating. You weren’t sure if it was the effect of the weed or the effect of Peter.

The feeling of Peter’s lips on your neck were reassuring as you faded into your thoughts. Thoughts about everything, yet nothing at all.

Either way you felt at ease. Uplifted. And maybe you were a bad influence, but being with Peter was far from bad. It was just as euphoric as smoking weed. Maybe, even better.

masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker smut #college!peter #peter parker fanfiction

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astudyingreer · 4 years

Text

A little alternate ending I wrote to a previous one shot, where Anti doesn’t decide to leave well enough alone

Marvin hadn’t even stepped into the gas station before the unmistakable feeling of Anti’s presence washed over him and he paused. His eyes scanned the small store in one minimal motion before they fell on the scene happening at the register.

Anti was leaning on the counter, listening to the young female cashier talk as he absentmindedly ran a finger around the rim of his slushie cup. His human form rarely changed: he was still tall and well-built, with dark curls and sharp green eyes.

Marvin’s blood began to boil underneath his skin, but seeing as the scene had yet to escalate he went to the fridge to get his beer and leave. That was the frustrating reality of Marvin and Anti’s existence: they had to co-exist, whether either of them liked it or not, and the resulting stalemate led to a strange tension that never really broke unless one of them did something stupid.

Either way, Anti was still chatting up the cashier by the time Marvin walked up with his case of beer and Anti finally noticed him. His eyes flickered up to meet the magician’s and the ghost of a smile twitched on the corner of his mouth before he straightened.

The cashier stopped whatever enthusiastic story she was telling and looked up as well, trying to smile naturally past the deep blush in her cheeks. Great.

“Sorry, are we holding up the line?” Anti asked, eyes widening as he picked up his slushie and took a large sip. “I must’ve gotten carried away. That tends to happen.”

Marvin gave a tight smile, which Anti returned with a smug one of his own as he bit his slushie straw. Their eyes locked for just long enough for the cashier to clear her throat and hurriedly ring up the slushie, then Marvin turned to the girl and sidestepped Anti entirely.

“It’s no big deal,” he said evenly. He set the case of beer down on the counter and began to look in his pockets for cash. “Just this, when you’re ready.”

“Yikes, at 2 in the afternoon?” Anti remarked quietly, squinting at the beer. “You remind me of a friend I have.” He looked up, eyes widening dramatically as slid a five to the cashier. “Dude is always drinking. I’m like, bro, college was like 4 years ago.”

The cashier giggled a little, handing Anti back his change.

Marvin inhaled deeply through his nose, but said nothing. Anti wanted him to be angry. He thrived off of it. It wasn’t happening.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” Anti asked, watching the cashier scan the beer. “Rough day?”

“Says the man drinking a slushie in January,” Marvin told him cooly.

“What are you, some kind of slushie purist? I need my Red 40!” Anti took another innocent gulp of his slushie. “It’s the next best thing when I can’t get the blood of the innocent.”

The cashier laughed again, though it was a little forced. Anti glanced over at her, flashing her another winning smile. “Kidding! Kidding. I’m not a crazy person.”

“Oh boy,” Marvin sighed, biting the inside of his cheek and stifling a dry laugh as he handed his cash to the girl.

“What’s so funny?” Anti prodded, and for the first time his tone seemed to sharpen just a little.

Marvin met his eyes, and this time he didn’t let his gaze break. The two stayed that way for just a few moments. “You are trying way too hard.”

“Actually, I don’t really have to try at all.” Anti’s smile widened to show more teeth and he shrugged, straightening a little. Then he looked to the confused cashier. “Hey, love, why don’t you slam that tip jar onto your fingers?”

“Anti,” Marvin warned, voice low and urgent, but Anti ignored him. They both watched as the girl silently picked up the glass jar full of change and lifted it above her hand outstretched on the counter. It came down with a hard, unrestrained thunk and the girl whimpered through her teeth. Marvin’s jaw tightened.

Anti looked up to Marvin, still smiling past the straw in his mouth. “See? I can do a lot. Should I tell her to do it again? Or maybe I’ll spice it up, tell her to kiss me. Or maybe bash her head into the wall until her brains fall out?”

Marvin’s eyes narrowed and his hands came out of his pockets, which Anti seemed to notice. “Enough, Anti.”

He shouldn’t interfere. Anti’s chaos had just as much place in the world as Marvin’s order, as much as they both liked it... or not. Tipping the balance was dangerous, but Marvin couldn’t help it.

“No, you were the one who brought it up,” Anti insisted, jabbing a finger in Marvin’s direction. “You’re such a big fan of challenging me but you forget who you’re talking to.”

“Don’t tell me what I know. Enough.” Marvin’s eyes glinted gold in the dim light. “I didn’t come here to start a fight, but I will defend her.”

“God, I know you will, but you’re taking your sweet fucking time.” Anti beckoned to the girl, who watched the scene in an almost indifferent trance. Her knuckles had started to bleed.

“Come here,” Anti told her, and she obeyed, leaning in closer over the counter. The demon’s voice had dropped to a lower tone like he was sharing a secret, devoid of that poor, flippant impression of a human he was doing earlier. He took up her injured hand as if to comfort her, running his thumb over the scraped skin.

“That looks like it hurts,” he murmured. “Look at me, mm?”

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a strange fascination. Every muscle in Marvin’s body was tense, almost in anticipation, but his outward appearance stayed perfectly controlled as he watched the scene. Anti liked to take his time with these things, push the limits to see how far he was allowed to go. He only did this when he was in an especially bad mood. Marvin’s earlier comment had been a mistake. It had pushed Anti too far.

“Doesn’t seem quite broken yet,” Anti mused, eyes flickering over her wounded fingers. “You didn’t hit them very hard, huh?”

“I don’t know,” was the bleary response.

“Try it again,” Anti purred. “Don’t stop until someone makes you stop, okay sweetie?”

An ember of dangerously-pure rage swelled in Marvin’s chest and he took an even breath, his sharp eyes following the girl’s hands as she reached for the tip jar again. There were tears gathering in her eyes, as if some part of her consciousness was beginning to understand what was going on, and he could feel the disorientation and miserable confusion radiating off of her.

She raised the jar and a pulse wave of pain stung Marvin’s senses as the glass collided with her hand again. He shouldn’t interfere. Anti would stop if he didn’t. He wouldn’t kill her.

The jar hit her hand again, harder than last time. A whimper escaped her. Don’t interfere.

Hands trembling, she lifted the jar a third time and Marvin finally moved forward.

Anti stepped aside as if he was fully expecting his reaction, watching the scene with a smirk. Gently Marvin reached across the counter, his fingers brushing her chin and lifting her face up from her hands so their eyes met. Her reddened eyes glistened with tears but his touch seemed to have an immediate affect, and her hands paused. She looked at him as if enraptured.

“It’s all right,” he told her. His voice was soft and soothing, like a lullaby. “That’s enough. Drive yourself to the hospital if you can and get your hand looked at.”

She nodded, letting the jar fall from her hands and cradling her hand against her chest as she grabbed her bag without hesitation.

“You broke pretty fast, kitty,” Anti mused from the sidelines. He watched her hurry out the door, eyes darkening just a little. “Usually she’d have to be bleeding on the floor for you to feel the need to interfere. Don’t tell me you were enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t speak to me,” Marvin growled. He turned to face Anti fully and Anti lifted his slushie straw to his lips again--The movement was a little too fast, betraying a very rare flinch.

“Crawl back into the hole you came from,” Marvin spat at him, and his voice was so terrible it was as if time itself paused. “I’ve had enough of you.”

Anti looked at him in silence, tongue running quickly over his lower lip, then he just shrugged. “This plane of existence bores me anyway,” he finally remarked, closing his fist around the slushie cup. It vaporized into a strange hissing matter before it was gone completely. “But I’d call getting on your nerves a vict--”

Marvin moved forward so fast Anti didn’t even register it until the magician’s hand was around Anti’s throat. Veins of golden light spread from underneath his fingers across Anti’s skin and the demon’s face betrayed a hint of pain.

“I told you not to speak to me,” Marvin growled. Every breath was becoming more and more labored as sizzling energy began to collect on the surface of his skin. A slight tremor shook the whole store and Anti’s eyes darted to observe it in an ulterior fascination.

Don’t, Marvin. Don’t. Control yourself.

It didn’t matter anyway. Anti finally gave in, and disappeared underneath Marvin’s grasp in a swirl of fractured reality before leaving the magician alone in the store.

Marvin’s hands shook slightly as he brought one to his chest, over his heart, feeling each breath purposefully as he focused on the air passing through his lungs. Goddamnit.

After a few minutes the store stopped shaking and Marvin raked his fingers through his hair, grabbing his case of beer before heading out the door.

#antisepticeye #marvin the magnificent

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anteroom-of-death · 4 years

Text

Life, for Dummies p7

a/n: this motherfucker was written and edited on google docs mobile shit app, i am sorry, but lookie!!! masters back!!!

Life petered out into a pattern, you moved, you got a job as a clerk in a small town far away and set up shop. You had to scrounge for parts and made your own little cobble-stocked detectors and screwdriver. It couldn’t kill- yet, but it could maim. At the moment, that was all you needed.

The change of scenery was welcome. It wasn’t the place that it all started. A new place to feel new emotions. It was wonderful to heal. The subtle chains of longing and want for that exotic lifestyle and all the trimmings started falling away.

You’d even taken a cheeky plot. Some aliens went to draw resources from the Earth to sell, you promised them you wouldn’t kill them all, if they gave you a cut of the profit. In gold.

You got a pretty continuous penny. Kept you in shoes. And black market tech stolen from invaders past…

You’d fallen into a bit of a routine, 7 AM, wake up, get ready. 8 am, scan for extraterrestrials and other signs of life, 9 AM till 5 PM work, then home, relax, tinker, in bed by 11, refresh repeat.

The routine calmed you and brought you an air of stability and joy. Nothing could be better than knowing what you were doing, and the job was routine. Knowing what the day brought stopped you from any freakouts that might occur. Prevented any poor saps coming in from unexpectedly being a victim of your grasps for power and control. You even used your paychecks from this job to make your small rented cottage into a true palace and spa. Fit for a fallen queen. It wasn’t like you had to answer to anyone but the tax collectors and your boss. Though both, hypothetically could be thwarted if you knew how to use psychic projection. That would have been fun- no gods, no masters, not even normal citizenship.

Though you liked the cover. A good cover was good.

One balmy summer night you sat on your patio, stoking a small fire and indulging yourself in a marathon of one of those 90’s sitcoms that were overhyped and popular on your laptop, a stiff drink in your hand. It was a perfect night, the bugs were chirping, you heard an owl in the distance hooting to the crescent moon. You were so relaxed and flexing your feet muscles and considered sleeping out here, it was a weekend, you could afford such simple luxuries. You enabled your scanners up and turned on your night system and settled in, the familiar theme song dragging you into sleep…

You heard the urgent beeping of your system and it jarred you from your dreamless slumber. You were groggy and a tad sore but still trying to spring to action. You grabbed from the side table your makeshift screwdriver and your flyswatter, if whoever was unfazed by your laser beam they’d have to deal with that, then possibly you would die.

It wasn’t the best protection, but it was a little comfort.

Assuming a general position of what you’d assume was a good self-defense you turned and saw the TARDIS struggling to both get through and figure out a shape. A tree? A shed? Something else? It finally settled on a tree and broke through your barrier. You didn’t exactly relax, in turn you rubbed your eye and exhaled sarcastically. Him? Now?

A little frustrated noise, not unlike a cats meow escaped from somewhere deep inside your chest as he walked out.

“There you are!” He smiled but seemed very frustrated and something brewing deeper. Yet he seemed like he was honestly so glad he found you, like when you misplace your hair tie, but realize it’s on your wrist.

“I thought I lost you! I went to your place and found a very confused family. Had to wipe their minds. Poor idiots.” He grinned and shook his wrists a bit.

“The fuck you want?” You spat out and turned your neck up as the sky and shook your head incredulously. It was over a year for his disappearance and dumping you at your old house. You were miles away and settled into a new life. He was at the very last thought, a painful memory.

He sauntered over to where you were. “I’ve thought it over!” He raised a probing finger towards your face after pointing to his temples. You grabbed at his wrist and twisted it before kneeing him in the groin and letting him fall down. You tutted and turned around.

How dare he?

“Oh, hear me out.” He said in a velvet tease, some hostility creeping in. You snapped in a second. You shoved him down, pinning all your mass on top of him and pulling up like you were going to punch him. He was laughing like he was positively unhinged, his eyes glittered dangerously, a bit of pride and fear mixed with mania.

You punched the ground directly above his head and got off him. You chided yourself for being a coward, lips puckering inward.

“So you ‘had your time’?” You used grossly huge air quotes and went to massage your neck. You had slept on it funny and it was a huge jostle to wake up in such a hurry.

What was originally a banner night turned sour.

He got up and sat on your chair and immediately made himself comfy. “It was barely a week.”

You crossed your arms around your stomach and hissed, as your eyes slit shut. “Try a fucking year, Einstein.”

“See! No time!”

Your anger spiked and a throbbing pain entered your temple sharply.

“Yes, yes time.” You dignified him with a response, though every instinct told you not to. You kept slowly shaking your head and rubbing at your head and neck.

Quietly, you half looked him in the eye and went glassy, “I should just kill you and keep killing you every time you regenerate.” You sat down numbly on your outside coffee table. He made a little noise like he had a bout of indigestion. His lips puttered a bit out. He gave a dopey half-grin.

“Nice set up.” He twirled around his finger at your whole situation. “Rudimentary, but clever. You really are such a smart one.”

“Go, I still haven’t made up my mind about execution.” You twisted his age-old words back at him like a knife, “But I need time.”

You crossed your legs and your arms again and sat in silence, your anger visibly radiating from you like a bad case of the shakes. Your chest ached dully as old wounds got ripped open. The emotions you worked through came out of the woodwork in droves. You were positively bewildered, you were abandoned and now he danced back in to grace you with an appearance and words said ages ago that cut you deeply.

You tapped your finger on the corner of your table and tutted again. Silence echoed louder than any screaming match ever could.

“It wasn’t that overtly long…” He reasoned gently.

“Fourteen months, ten jobs, four therapists and one new place later.” You ground in your jaw and teeth.

He genuinely weighed those words in his mind, he finished the rest of your drink gone warm, you figured to add a few woodblocks to the fire’s embers, it was past midnight so a chill had graced the cloudless night.

You didn’t want to admit it, but in the low lighting made him look especially attractive.

You continued to shoot daggers out from your eyes and quietly sulk. You said your peace and were waiting until he learned it and left. You were really starting to get sleepy and your face had been a little ruddy due to the humidity, you probably weren’t at your best for wit or anything garnering intimidation.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Sorry don’t change the past.”

His lips twitched at that. For a brief second you nearly joined him in it.

“I know. I accidentally made a fixed event. I regret it. I lost track of time. Rather not like me…” He mused, half justifying his actions.

Your eyes glazed over and you focused on the fire and it’s cracks and warmth bathing your skin. He was swallowing hard, you could tell his mind was working out a trillion little clever things to say, or maybe the best way to organically force you to drop your defenses.

“I thought of you every day. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I can’t eat. I keep forgetting to drink something. You-�� You cut him off, “Oh, so your inability to take care of yourself now...suddenly is my fault?” You crossed your arms again. “It’s been a week for you, in your lifespan, a weeks nothing! I blink my eyes and that’s a Time Lord’s week! Meanwhile, I’ve had to deal with all the fall out of learning to be a normal fucking human!”

He weighed your input more. It was uncomfortable and you didn’t trust the scent of black locust wood and a few twigs you found in your yard, the leftover alcohol in your system, or the pretty man in front of you. You needed your resolve and to keep irate and upright.

“I know when you’re scared, and you have and had every right to be. And angry. I know you. I know I was rash and made poor choices. It doesn’t cancel out this, but please, give me a chance.”

“So the next time things cut a little too closely to the bone, you dump me somewhere else?” You added the tune.

“No…” He went to defend himself. “I’ve decided I can’t do that.”

“Whoopdiedo!” You tossed your hands up in the air. “What a goddamn epiphany to have now.”

“I can leave you to your dramatics and come back at a better time…” He shifted forward in your chair. You rolled your eyes and tapped your crossed ankles a bit before relaxing. You hated it, but you wanted to hear him out. He definitely was being patient and not blowing you to dust for your actions, so obviously, he wanted something.

But what?

“Fine. Say what you got to, then let me think.” You tried out giving yourself a bit of backbone.

“I think I care for you.” He started. The words came out like he was a school boy and much younger and naiver than you knew him to be. “No, scratch that. I do care. I’ve always cared. I...other than care.” He shook his head vertically like he didn’t exactly expect to get this far or word things out to you. He was twitching a bit and it made you inhale, almost laugh. It was kind of pleasurable that the great and terrifying Master was on your property, struggling to get a sentence out.

You scratched a spot on the bridge of your nose.

“I need you. You’re more to me than just something or someone. You’re mine.”

“Oh, okay. So just because of all that I can just forget the hell you put me through?” You said the words softly. “I wanted to kill myself.” You swallowed then in the tiniest voice, “I wanted to kill you…”

“Master, you left me, for what I presumed after a few weeks, for dead. Like you’d gone on, someone waved something shiney or you’d gone off and decided that thinking wasn’t worth it. I understand that you care, but I need assurance and to just...rebuild trust.”

You gestured with your hands making little rebuilding remarks. You staggered out a difficult breath.

“I understand...but I want you near me. You’re my pet. And I can’t go anywhere without my pet…Mine..”

You must have looked like you had been having a seizure, because he asked, “Are you having a seizure?”

“And the punches keep coming.” You made a mental note to if any deity existed, when you died, you’d personally make them pay in sheer annoyance for not giving you a chance here. He looked so vulnerable and caring, positively lamblike.

“Lay it out to me straight, no snowjobs here.” You said, the night close to taking its total toll on you. You were just drained and exhausted. No other way to put it.

“Please come back with me?” He went out to touch you as you infestimely pulled away. “That’s all I want, for now.” He was so earnest, so against your better judgment you rubbed your eyes and groaned loudly into your palms. You gave in and buckled your will.

“I’ll sleep on it, come back tomorrow, I’ll have your answer.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You walked him back and saw him inside and off, before heading into bed.

For the first time in a while, you felt yourself cry.

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #master x you #dhawan!master x you #fanfic #doctor who self insert fiction #a bitch has some deep seated issues but we got thru this #the master #sacha dhawan

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evien-stark · 4 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 111

Dinner that night was a half pepperoni half sausage pizza and a whole double cheese pizza. Harley ate more than you thought someone his size should, but then again, this whole experience was starting to really show you you may not have known anything about kids. Sure. You’d been one. Once. A long time ago. But… especially a young preteen boy… you were a little out of your depths. At least he and Tony seemed to get along well enough. It was nice.

The two of you set him up on the couch with every movie known to man available at his fingertips (although he did complain lightly about the absence of any gaming consoles), and you tried to impress upon him that he’d be getting up early tomorrow. Just as you shut your bedroom door you heard him raiding your kitchen cabinets and putting some popcorn in the microwave.

Wine buzz had fled some time ago, leaving you free and clear after changing into some pajamas to sit cross legged on the bed and answer some work emails. Tony must have been of the same mind, because he had one of his larger tablets open and was working away. First thing, you canceled your vacation plans. It would have been nice to move them to a later date, but you had no idea how long this was going to go on for. And rescheduling without an idea was only asking for trouble.

The next was to send a quick email to Happy for tomorrow, just a few small pickups. Some more substantial food- kid’s cereal?- a Stark console and all the latest games. That would do for now. You hoped Harley had packed some clothes in that backpack he’d brought with him on his little hike to New York City but you’d forgotten to ask. If not… you’d just have to take him shopping.

Pepper came next, letting her know you were no longer taking time off, asking her to un-clear your schedule, and then asking her to expedite papers for the Stark Internship program. Even if it wasn’t up and running, you could always backdate and have her rubber stamp enough documents to make things seem legit. Harley would need an ID and a badge for as long as he was staying in the Tower. That would at least legitimize this for anyone who dug into it. And… you imagined if Harley was spotted with either you or Tony (as he definitely would be), questions would come in heavy. You had to be prepared.

You unfortunately didn’t have the proper staff for this right now… even in your sudden wealth of employees. The closest you could think of… prompted a final email to Bruce, very quickly explaining the situation. And then asking him if he would be comfortable putting together a quick and not necessarily flush syllabus- or, if not that serious, just some lab exercises that he could walk Harley through, failing anything else.

Though you were seconds from closing your laptop and pretending you could go to bed, almost as expected, three emails pinged back in succession. Even though it was outside of work hours. This was why you loved these people. From Happy: You got it, boss. This have to do with the kid in the lobby? From Pepper: Sure thing. I imagine we’ll discuss the why in the morning. And from Bruce: Comfortable definitely isn’t the word but I’ll do my best…

There were about a hundred other things you could attend to but with the immediate worries put to rest for the night, you shut the lid on your laptop and set it aside on the night table. With your arms now free, you snuggled up to Tony, winding your arms around his middle and resting your head against him. He swiped a quick hand across his tablet to project what he was working on, freeing up his space a little to welcome you in further.

Once his arm came around you, you put a hand over his chest, eyes glazing as you looked at what he was working on. Even you were surprised by how tired your voice sounded, when you finally spoke. “I have things set up for tomorrow. We’ll get Harley to Pepper for processing and… Bruce is gonna try and work on some science lab stuff for him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” His voice came out in a low rumble, a little more focused on the schematics that were hanging in the air.

You soothed your hand up and down his chest, fingers circling the round of his tank top, touching over his skin. “In the lobby, Harley said he saved your life.”

There was an abrupt stop to his working. “Yeah.”

“...in like a… you needed help to finish what you were doing general way? Or in a more serious way?”

You found yourself stilling as he swiped away the holograms, settling a little bit more against the headboard. His hand then came down over yours, holding you still. “Probably both. That kid’ll take all the credit you can give him.” Laying your head against the edge of his shoulder, you cast a look up his way. Patient. Glancing at you briefly from his peripherals, his lips pressed together before a sigh escaped.

His hand held yours a little tighter, as his gaze went forward and foggy. Reliving as much as he was remembering.

“One of those soldiers took down a water tower. A kid- funny enough, apparently… kid that was bullying Harley- EJ was his name… got caught up and drowned. Heart wasn’t beating right, he wasn’t breathing. So I took the Arc out of my chest to give him a jolt. Soon as he coughed up water, I started seizing. Harley yanked the Arc out of my hands and shoved it back in my chest.”

A little shiver crept over your skin. Slowly, without really thinking, the tips of your fingers started to trace the white scar across his chest. Tony had literally, without thinking, put his life in serious jeopardy for a kid that, by all accounts, sounded like he didn’t even know. Maybe he felt responsible- ...scratch that. He definitely felt responsible, but…

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

You felt his shoulders shrug beneath you. “Part of the job, isn’t it? Almost dying? Besides, we had a million other things going on. Never seemed like a good time to bring it up. Hey, honey, so while I was in Tennessee- you remember, that time you got kidnapped and almost died? Funny story...” He breathed out a long sigh, taking hold of your hand, lifting it to press a lingering kiss to your skin.

What could you really say to this? There was a beat of heartache that cycled through both of you. It made sense- he’d been looking into getting the Arc removed a little before that. But after that… no wonder as soon as you were on your feet he had been ready to jump into surgery.

He pressed your palm to his cheek, just holding you there. “You know…” Deciding you didn’t want to drown in the feeling, you waited until he hummed a noise of question to continue. “You promised me. At least twice. That you wouldn’t go dying on me.”

There was a twitch of a grin on his lips. “So far so good. Haven’t broken it.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

----

As usual with most evenings the two of you went to bed together, he got up before you- and before the sun rose, too. Up to do Tony things, you supposed. Science, work. Either or both. He left with a quiet kiss at your temple, a tug of the covers a little more over your shoulders, and a quiet close of the door. Sleep was a luxury now, it kind of always had been, but with the lifestyle you were running, more now than ever. It was why even though he was more apt of the two of you to get up first, you never stayed asleep for that much longer.

It was an hour later at sunrise that you got up and took a shower. There were kitchen sounds happening, you realized, once you got out- and it reminded you that the two of you had a guest. So while you might have otherwise left your bedroom in a towel or a robe (or maybe sometimes nothing at all, it was your penthouse, who could judge), now you had to actually get ready before leaving the master bedroom. At least it served to set your mind up for the day.

Ready to face the morning, albeit with damp hair, you exited the bedroom. Harley was dead asleep on the couch- passed out after what seemed to be a long evening of binge watching TV, eating multiple bags of popcorn, and filling up on juice. You considered yourself as lucky as you did smart that you hadn’t sent him downstairs to the Avengers’ living space. Their kitchen was a little more terrible for a child to wreak havoc in.

A blanket was pulled up over him, Dvahli belly up in the crook of his arm, snoozing away. It put your mind at ease, a little. If he made friends with the cat… maybe he wasn’t so bad.

Tony was humming away in the kitchen when you got there, all dressed in black casual, sleeves rolled up, white dish towel draped over his shoulder. You sneaked up behind him, winding your arms around his middle and snuggling your face into his back. He smelled that nice spice and earthy way he always did. “Morning…”

You felt him put a hand over your arms. “Good morning. What’s on your to-do list today?” Asked quietly, almost drowned up by the sound of something sizzling away in the frying pan in front of him.

“A million things.”

“The usual.” Able to hear the grin in his voice.

“Pepper will process Harley and I have to sign and… backdate- and then bury the backdating of the Internship program, just in case anyone looks into it.” Which was an eventuality. And even if it wasn’t, you had to treat it like one. Getting caught unaware was not something you liked. “Then I have a few meetings here and… a media meeting at NBC.”

The sound of the stove dying intermingled with his next hum of thought, and you shifted with him as he moved to plate something- refusing to let go of him. Even if it was a little ridiculous, practically hanging on like a baby koala. “I’m all in for brand integration on cheesy sitcoms.”

“Don’t joke, I think I saw Days of Our Lives on the proposal list.” Snorting lighting against his shirt with another little nuzzle there before you let go finally. Shifting aside him, you moved to sit atop the counter, stealing a very hot piece of freshly cooked bacon with a satisfied crunch.

Easing forward, he settled his hands on your hips. “Who said anything about joking? I want Stark Tech to be the reason someone comes out of their sixth coma- just in time for her to see her mother stealing her husband-” Having trouble getting the thought out as giggles leaked from you as he fantasized. “I want the logo in the shot when they say porque, Maria-!” Giving it a little gusto with a shaking fist as he delivered the line.

Something that had you dying all the more, head shifting forward to stifle your laughter against his shoulder. “I think you’re mixing up your soaps-”

“They’re all the same.” Sharing in the laughter with you. Maybe laughing just because you were laughing. The warmth and adoration you felt rolling off him certainly seemed to suggest so.

He nudged your head up with a little touch of his forehead against yours, and you found his sunny gaze waiting there for you when you opened your eyes. “I love you-” Cutting himself off just as you reached up to cup the sides of his face, an action he craned back against suddenly, holding up a pointer finger between the two of you. “-however- if you slather bacon grease on my face, we might have some serious issues-”

“Stop making your bacon so greasy, then.” Grinning but holding your hands up in the air to placate him, leaning in to steal a quick little kiss. “I love you, too.”

When you tilted back, he chased you, laying a much stronger kiss to your lips. One you fell victim to instantly. Settling your arms over his shoulders- still palm up just in case- lifting an encouraging leg to slide up at his side to invite him in as close as you could have him. A slow brush of tongues sparked a quiet heat-

And it died immediately once the sound of exaggerated groaning bubbled up from behind the both of you. The break happened pretty quickly after that, but Tony didn’t really move away, instead half angling back to look- you peering over his shoulder, to see Harley perched on the back of the living room couch with his tongue out. Gagging. When he stopped his gurgling, “That’s disgusting. I’m right here, you know.”

Perhaps he had a point. A small one. It wasn’t like you were about to have sex with Tony in the kitchen, thirty feet away from a sleeping child, but, all the same… Tony propped the back of his hand against his hip. “Right there- imagine- in my house-”

“I thought last night you said it was hers.” Smart aleck’ing him right back.

“-where you fell asleep at three in the morning in a pile of crumbs, juice puddles, and- hopefully some modicum of shame.”

Easing off the counter you plastered a smile on your face. “Sounds like a wild night. Hopefully you didn’t overdo it. You have a lot to do today.” A jaunty little jingle of Dvahli’s collar preceded her sweet miaow as she padded her way into the kitchen. You bent down to pick her up and then put her on the counter where she could easily observe you preparing a wet can for her.

“Me?” Harley sounded perturbed. “What do I have to do?”

Tony turned back to the stove. “You didn’t think you could just come here and laze on our couch, did you?”

“My assistant Pepper is going to process you for our internship program. And then Dr. Banner is going to have some stuff for you to do down in the labs.” After depositing the empty can into the recycling, you served Dvahli her breakfast.

Harley finally left the comfort zone of the couch to come sit at the kitchen island. “Banner- like- Bruce Banner- like the Hulk right? That’s so cool.”

Tony cracked a few eggs onto the newly fired up skillet. “You might wanna lower your expectations. Just a little.”

You couldn’t help the little smack to his side as you crossed over to the fridge to retrieve the orange juice. “No Hulk. Just Dr. Banner.” Trying to impart that he was expected to be respectful. If he even knew the meaning of the word.

Just as you set a fresh glass of OJ in front of him, Harley grinned up at you. “Okay but like- what if I make him mad- like really really mad-” Seeming excited at the prospect of getting to see the Hulk up close and personal.

You smiled back at him. “I assure you, Dr. Banner is used to far more than anything you can do.” You wouldn’t have asked him if you thought he couldn’t handle it.

Immediately trying to rectify your mistake, Tony turned half on his heel with his pointer finger raised, “Not that you should try. I’ll be around, too. I see you firing that little peanut gun of yours in my lab, I’ll ship you back to Tennessee in a box.” Warning him.

“Peanut gun?” You couldn’t help but ask. ...trying to hide your horror.

Harley ducked his head. “It’s a new prototype-”

Tony turned back to the stove. “Sure thing. You came looking for more pointers. I get it.”

“I did not.” Though you sensed this was not the whole truth of it. Harley was building tech? It wasn’t a wonder why the two of them seemed to get along. ...if this could be described as getting along.

But this brought up a very serious question as you looked at him. “You packed that- and- what else?”

Tony was the one to answer with half a laugh. “Light traveler. Scraps and parts.”

You couldn’t help your frown. “No clothes?” When Harley avoided your gaze and just shrugged you held back your sigh. “Happy will take you shopping later.”

Finished fixing a full plate, Tony came over to deposit some scrambled eggs and bacon in front of Harley, though he held the plate back just as Harley reached for it. “That’s usually when you say thank you, kid. When someone does something nice for you. Just a tip.”

But. Really… more than that. Letting Harley know he was to respect you while he was here, in less words. You waited and while his gratitude was a low murmur of uncomfortable, “Thanks…” It would do.

You rewarded the behavior with a warm response. “You’re welcome.” This was going to take some getting used to. Then again… you hoped you actually wouldn’t have to get used to this.

----

It was about two in the afternoon. You were in between four different phone calls, seven different emails, and Pepper still debriefing you about the things that were rescheduled due to your sudden going-on-vacation and then just as sudden canceling. There was an influx of people feeling like they were smarter than everyone else doing the same thing- thinking your schedule was clear so it would be the perfect time to get in. Or back in, in the case of people you’d canceled on.

There were three different voices speaking to you as Tony came into your office quietly, a hand on Harley’s shoulder. Guilt was coming off the both of them, which was not a great sign, but you had to put a finger up to them to signal that you’d be with them shortly. One conference call ended on speaker, and two more personal calls on two separate phones down, you let Pepper finish getting your signature on a newly printed document and then turned your attention to them. “What happened?”

“Okay, first-” Tony put his hand up. “Don’t worry. But. Also. There was a… slight chemical fire in the lab-”

“It was huge!” Harley threw his arms up. But the dead-eyed stare you served the both of them had him shrinking back. “...and an accident.”

Though you sensed neither of them would be so blase if it were the case otherwise, you had to ask, “Is anyone hurt?”

Tony, thank god, shook his head. “Everyone’s fine- we just need to clear the area for a little ventilation. ...and clean up. Can you watch him for a few hours?”

At this Harley crossed his arms pretty hard. “I don’t need watching.”

Much as you tried to hold the sigh back, it escaped you anyway. “I’m fifteen minutes out from heading to the NBC meeting.”

He grinned, giving Harley a pat. “Great. Kid can learn about managing a business. I figure the internship should be fully encompassing.”

At this you really did make a face. “You figured you just exploded the lab so now you need me.”

“I always need you.”

God damn him. It was the warm way he said this, the gentle imploring look in his eyes… he was playing you for a fool. But. He was also right. So you made a bad attempt at hiding your smile in the middle of a pointed eye roll. “Yes. You do.”

“I know. That’s what I just said.” Grinning lightly then. “Anyway- here- kid. Sit down. Learn something.” Ushering him to the couch.

Harley collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh. “What’s there to learn? How to answer a phone? How to sign my name on papers?”

Tony’s grin broadened. “Oh you do have a lot to learn. And here I thought you said you knew everything already. Must explain why my lab blew up, too.” He headed out the door, but with his hand on the handle leaned back in. “Thank you, honey.”

And, despite him making a mess and dumping the aftermath on you, you raised your hands in that small heart shape over your chest. You weren’t mad at him for taking precaution. It was exactly the sort of thing he should be doing. It was his dazed smile that really put you in danger. Thankfully he closed the door behind himself, apparently giving Harley permission to fall onto his back on the couch- and retrieve that beat up Stark handheld console from his pocket somewhere so that he could start playing it and ignoring you.

That was fine. You had a lot to cram into these last- now- thirteen minutes before you rushed downstairs and got into a car. It was at the final five that Pepper got to the bottom of her never-ending list. “-and about the Valentine’s Charity Gala on Friday-”

You stood, slipping your jacket around your shoulders. “Since we already canceled, I don’t see any reason to go now. You know I can’t stand Smithfield.” As with any other ass-kisser that organized events like this. One of your least favorite people on the fucking planet.

“That’s fine- just, they put out a newsletter this morning. Not scathing but… heartbroken and disappointed over the sudden absence. Even when we put in three times the plate fee. Which, of course, they failed to mention.”

That was incredibly annoying and you let your displeasure show with a grunt. “Fine, then. Schedule a dress and tux fitting for Wednesday afternoon. We’ll drop in quietly on the evening.”

“Understood. Good luck at the meeting.”

Stopping at the couch you gave the corner a little nudge and made a motion with your hand. “Come on, Harley, we have to go.”

While he forced a tired sigh, he didn’t make any more fuss about not following. Which was great, because you didn’t have time to argue with him. Happy greeted you in the lobby and then opened the car door for you. You let Harley get in first and then got in after, going over a few pointer notes on your phone as Harley click-clacked away on the buttons of his game.

You weren’t expecting him to speak up, but when he did you directed a glance his way. “Hey… how come you’re going to that thing. If you hate it so much.”

It wasn’t all too shocking that he’d been listening in- that’s what he was supposed to be doing… technically, if any of what Tony had said made sense or mattered. But it still surprised you a little. “Because we have to.”

“She said you were off the hook, right?” He didn’t understand and was trying to make sense of it. “I thought you guys never had to do anything you didn’t want to.” Seemingly unimpressed that at least one of the adults he secretly looked up to could be forced into a lame dinner party.

How best to explain…? “If you’re smart, you’ll never let someone else control your narrative.”

“What’s that mean?” Now his full attention was on you.

“It means… okay. So. This dinner is a charity banquet. Tony and I said we’d go, but then we changed our minds. Because of that, we paid three times the entry fee to make up for not going. But the people running the event told everyone we backed out. That makes us look bad, no matter how much we paid. So now on the evening of, Tony and I are going to put in some face time without them knowing until we say hello. By then, they’ll have made the mistake of badmouthing us even though we paid over price to not go- and at the same time, will have gone anyway.” You took a breath after all this, arching a brow at him. “Does that make sense?”

He shrugged, looking away. “Sort of. I guess.”

That was a no. Plainer terms… “We’re going to make the people running the event look like assholes for talking shit about us.” His head whipped your way, that giddy sense of an uptight adult just cursed! easy to spot, but it was the shock that really got a grin out of you. “That easier to digest?”

He returned the expression. “Yeah. I get it now.”

----

The meeting ran long, as all meetings these days tended to do. When someone had you in a room they were always very keen to keep you there as long as they could, as if that would improve their chances of getting what they wanted. Usually it was the opposite. When you realized it was running a little too long, you side-barred everyone so that you could have Happy take Harley down to the cafeteria to get some food… and as a little treat for his patience (having some very decent manners in a meeting where even you were starting to get a little rough around the edges) told him he could go down to the gift shop and get whatever he wanted.

When finally, two whole hours later, enough things had been agreed upon and signed, you went to collect both of them and head home for the day. The sun was just finished setting, the city awash in its nighttime lights-

Too little too late you realized the glow of which were coming from some reporters parked next to your car. While Happy tried to wave them off, and you struggled valiantly to keep Harley behind you- one of them barked something at you that immediately got your attention. It was because of this you put a hand on Happy’s arm to let him know you were about to address one of them before getting in the car.

You also held your arm back to keep Harley from view. When you held your head up to the reporter angling a microphone up, his cameraman pushing forward to get a good shot, the man felt a wash of relief and a bit of pride that he’d been picked. “What do you have to say about Senator Stern’s arrest?”

Ah. Such a beautiful question. While he’d been hauled off government property a few hours after everything had been leaked, he’d been hiding behind lawyers and money. ...nothing Stark Industries couldn’t strip him of. Quietly, of course. You stood tall. “I have to say that I find it extremely interesting that almost every single person that went up against Tony four years ago in that Senate hearing were traitors to the country. I also find it very relieving that Hydra didn’t get their hands on the Iron Man suit at that time. God knows we would have hundreds raining down on America by now if they had.”

Someone in the back of the crowd- civilians and tourists now having gathered- added a voice to the murmurs- “The Avengers would have protected us!”

You made a show of a bright smile. “Of course we would have. I’m just commenting on the fact that Stern, like the rest of them, had nefarious plans when he asked to take control of Tony’s suits. A thread that I feel needs to be examined.”

The reporter pulled his mic back to ask, “Do you think the court battle will drag on for years?”

“Oh, absolutely not. We’re lucky to have such a level-headed leader like President Ellis. I know he’s doing all he can- and it’s been extremely tough with the sudden power vacuums. But I know he’s going to expedite the process as much as possible so that the American people can see the justice that’s owed to them.” You gave a little wave off. “Thank you- no more questions- I have to be getting home-”

Allowing Happy to push the perimeter back so you and Harley could get in the car. Your phone immediately started buzzing, and as you retrieved it from your pocket, the name and face of the very same President Ellis warned you from the front screen.

Harley, who was making no attempts to not get caught spying, sat beside you in a little bit of excited disbelief. “The President has your phone number?”

“Every single one, unfortunately.”

“What’s he calling you for?”

“Well I just put him in a corner by insinuating he was going to do something he had no plans to do.”

Harley seemed to be thinking about this, but ended up sending a lopsided smile your way. “I thought you said smart people don’t let their uh… let their narratives be controlled?”

You grinned back. “I did say that.” This tickled Harley- that you’d imply the President was stupid. But it was a good lesson for him, if he was in a learning mood. So you followed the thought up, “Smart people never let other people control their narratives. But smart people also control other people’s narratives where it’s advantageous to them.”

His nose scrunched then, and you could feel the gears grinding. “I think I get it.”

“I want him to put Stern in jail. As soon as possible. Now he has no choice but to do what I want, because I got ahead of him.”

At this he nodded a few times over until another question came. “Yeah I get it. But why that guy?”

For this you let a little bit of seriousness seep in. “Stern has threatened Tony on more than one occasion. I make a point of punishing people like that. So that other people are scared to try it later.”

No one threatens my family and gets away with it. A much more powerful lesson, you thought. Harley considered it, nodding again while looking down at his hands. You felt a sudden storm cloud brew inside of him. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.”

It was such a strong and dark feeling that seemed to consume him so quickly. There was no telling what was going on in his head- what he was relating this all to. Although it was an easy guess that it was the reason he’d run away. You settled a hand on his shoulder, imparting some calm to ease the clouds. “I know it’s not the healthiest, but what do you say to stopping at Burger King for dinner.” Nothing fast food couldn’t fix.

There was a little relief when he smiled. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“It’s Tony’s favorite. Right, Happy?” Looking up into the rearview.

Happy waved a hand. “The boss loves Whoppers. Me, personally, I’m kind of a Big Mac kinda guy…”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Eleven

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sithlordintraining · 5 years

Text

Sugar IX

tagged: @itamenher @mundane-cup-noodles @hoe-for-kylo @rebeccamaximoff

Sugar Masterlist

Summary: You’re just a girl who wants to have fun(d$) and live life and not have to worry about the stupid galactic war. Even though you are a school teacher for the Resistance, it doesn’t hurt to be a little bad sometimes.

“ It's Your Birthday and I'll Cry If I Want To”

Leia asked to see me in her office to discuss something about Bunhead or whatever. I walked to the office and the door slid open. Tentatively, I walked into see a holovid playing on her desk. I know I shouldn’t be looking at something so personal but, curiosity got the best of me. Moving closer, I could make out a child, a little boy to be exact. I could hear the high pitch yells of the exuberant tike; moving closer I saw he had wild black curls and large ears and beautiful big eyes, and I realized, it was him. I could feel my heart swell at the sight of him so young, so innocent, so carefree, so… happy. A clearing of the throat caused me to jump and see the General. “General,” I nodded and so did she. She quickly turned off the video and put it away. Before Leia could speak, I asked “Is that him? Is that your son?” Silence filled the room as she looked at the draw that hid the holovid. “He’s really cute.” Didn’t matter if it was pr esent or past tense, because it was true. “Do you miss him?” I asked. I was entering dangerous territories; speaking about him was off limits. “I do.” Those brown eyes seemed to glaze over. “Is it his birthday?” She was taken aback by this. “I-I don’t mean to cross the line, it’s just, around this time you always get so closed off.” I told her. There was more silence before I spoke, definitely feeling like I was about to cross the line. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed for loving him.’’ I guess this was also me talking to myself. “He is your son and you know him better than all of us.” Her eyes seemed to light up at my words. “He was a very curious child, liked adventures, always getting into trouble.” She spoke with a smile and I couldn’t help but wear one as well. Soon the meeting was long forgotten as she continued to speak about him.

The more I heard of his childhood, the more I yearned for something more. “I think you and Ben would’ve gotten along very well.” With wide eyes I stared at her with a breath caught in my throat. “Oh, thank you.” I mumbled strangely. What could I say, we actually did get along well. “Of course, I’m pretty sure there would’ve been trouble; I could see him bothering you while you taught the kids, like his father; you making him break Jedi code and both of you running off to some planet somewhere.” No lie, I was offended that she thought I would be trouble. If she only knew it was him causing all of that. She chuckled lightly, “I wish that was the case, he’s just a few years older than you, he’ll be thirty-” “HE’S THIRTY!” I yelled. I cleared my throat. “Sorry,” It was just I knew he was older than me, but I didn’t think more than five years. But, I guess seven years wasn’t too terrible. I mean only when I think about awkward pre-teen me and a probably gorgeous teen like him; I cringed just thinking about it. “Well, do you do anything for his birthday?” I asked. “It’s too bittersweet to reminisce about someone that’s everyone’s enemy.” She gave me a small smile. “He’s not my enemy.” It was true, I was just a teacher, never went on the field or crossed Kylo, well in that way. “Maybe, I know that I’ve been overstepping the lines today, but maybe we could do something that represents the true Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren.” I said. Tears welled in her brown eyes and I could see the similarities in Kylo and Leia. “I’d like that very much, Y/N.” Leia said.

Thirty was a big deal and I know he wasn’t my boyfriend or anything like that, but I felt the need to do something. I just didn’t know what. I couldn’t ask his mother, it was too awkward and I still wasn’t really talking to Kat, which made our living arrangements very uneasy. Transportation wise, I sought out to the First Order spies. The good thing was that his birthday wasn’t until weeks later so it gave me enough time to think of an idea. And I did! I mean, I couldn’t afford much so it wasn’t as grand as the trips he took me on, but it was quaint and intimate. It was a dwarf planet in a little town called Stowe and it was said to be great for couples who wanted to get away. I paced back and forth in the suite; it had a kitchen and living area and a large bed with large windows and the bathroom was pretty nice as well. The theme was wood I’m guessing since it was a lodge, but it was beautiful and everyone was so nice. Looking at everyone here, they were older than the both of us, but closer to him. I chuckled, I should get the old jokes up before he arrived. I heard the door open to reveal the old geezer. “Geezer?” He asked with furrowed brows. A wide smile spread on my face as I ran engulfing him in a tight hug. His thick arms wrapped around my waist pulling me close to him. He pulled back and his brown eyes scanned my face. It was so hard to keep my composure together with everything I had planned. His eyes glistened as he held a steady lock with mine. He wanted to say something, I know he did because so did I. “Let’s take a walk!” I beamed up at him.

We walked hand in hand, swinging, down the main street. I looked up and bit back a smile. I remember how he never wanted to be out in public for the sake of identity, but he slowly began to warm up to it and now here he was holding my hand and pointing out things and suggesting what we should do. All I could do was smile and nod like the love sick puppy I am. We were standing on the corner of a street when thunder roared above us. We looked up as droplets began to fall heavily on our faces. I grabbed his hand to run back to the hotel, but it was like pulling at a brick wall. Kylo stood there with his raven hair stuck to his face, pulling me back towards him. “What are you doing?!” I exclaimed. His large hand fell to the small of my back while the other one found my hand. He began to move me in the middle of the street, moving back and forth. “A-Are you dancing? Are we dancing in the rain?” I asked feeling my clothes get heavier. Little hums left his lips; “And you’re singing too? You’re enjoying this too much!” I laughed and a hearty laugh erupted from his throat. His head fell back with a wide smile exposing his dimples. So, in the name of love and his birthday, I decided to indulge this.

Making it back to the lodge was basically like fighting against the rain. Once in the suite, we removed our wet clothes and traded them for the large white plush robes. “You look cute like that.” I pulled my knees closer to me as I looked to see Kylo in his robes and a towel wrapped around his head like me. “Thanks that means a lot from someone as stylish as you.” He sat on the bed beside me. I couldn’t help but just stare at him, internally bouncing off the walls. “What?” He asked me. I shook my head, before delving under the bed. When I returned he gave me a quizzical look before I was shoving the black box decorated with Vader stickers in his face with the craziest smile. His brows furrowed as he cautiously accepted. Slowly, he opened it, eyes scanning the item. “What is this for?” He asked. “Happy Birthday!” I smiled, I was too excited to even take in his confused state. “Is it real?” He asked. Is it real? I was taken aback. “Of course it is! Weren’t you the one who gave me that talk about fake jewelry.” I scooted closer to see the gold chain. An amused huff emitted from him. “What?” I asked. “It’s just funny that you used the money I gave you to buy me a gift on a day you assumed was my birthday.” He chuckled lightly. But there was nothing funny about that.

“Um...I didn’t, I used my money.” I said. “And you expect me to believe that?” Why the fuck he was being so rude. “Yes, because I’m trying to be nice for your birthday.” My voice started to rise. “No one said it was my birthday.” He shook his head. The palm of my hands flew to my eyes as I growled; he was being so horrible. “BECAUSE IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY, YOUR MOTHER TOLD ME HERSELF!” I walked away and I could see this newfound information had him caught in a daze. “SHE TOLD ME IT WAS YOUR FUCKING BIRTHDAY AND I DECIDED TO DO SOMETHING NICE AND GET YOU A NICE SUITE AND A NICE GIFT WITH MY FUCKING MONEY, WHICH NOW I’M PRETTY SURE THE BANK WILL CLOSE MY ACCOUNT NOW BECAUSE IT’S SO DAMN LOW, FOR SOMEONE AS UNGRATEFUL AS YOU BECAUSE I FUCKING L-” The word almost escaped my lips, but instead I muffled a screamed and went to slam the bedroom door only for it to not budge. I turned to look at Kylo who sat on the bed. “Let go!” I yelled at him. “No,” He said with no emotion which made me worse. I continued to tug at the door that wouldn’t budge. “That’s not fucking fair!” I whined feeling tears brim my eyes. This vacation was horrible and was giving me a reason to actually hate Kylo Ren. He seemed to have heard that thought because his hold on the door stopped as I swung it shut, stumbling back. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I thought loudly. I was too angry to pull out the couch or even get a blanket. With arms crossed and a scowl, I flopped down on the couch doing the one thing my father said never to do: go to sleep angry. Because that’s how you get sick.

I didn’t know how long I was out there, but not long enough to actually fall asleep. Especially since I’ve been grumbling the whole time about things I should’ve said and making up fake scenarios. I heard the door open and continued to keep my angry stare at the wall ahead of me. “Y/N,” His deep voice called out. “Y/N, I know you’re awake.” I still didn’t answer. “Y/N come to bed.” “No.” I said sternly. I heard him take a deep breath. “I’m not going to let you sleep out here all night, so you either go yourself or I’ll make you.” I rolled my eyes, did he think I was one of his little stormtroopers? I got up and walked inside, noticing the gold chain that adorned his neck. “You don’t have to wear it.” I rolled my eyes again; Kylo was on my heels as I walked to the far side of the bed. “I want to.” He spoke softly. I nestled under the covers ignoring him. He sighed before slipping under as well. “Did you really talk to her?” He asked. I looked over my shoulder to see him staring at the ceiling. I reached over for my datapad unlocking it. “Every year around this time, she acts so weird; she’s short with everyone and zones out and secludes herself. I caught her watching a holo of you and I tried to just be there for her and that’s how I found out about your birthday.” I told him honestly. “She told me how when you were younger you used to hang these gold dice on your neck so you can look like your Uncle Lando.” I bit back a laugh, focusing on finding what i wanted to show him. “And how much you loved calligraphy, which makes sense with your notes, and reading; so I thought that she could have something to remember you by.”

I handed him the datapad and his dark eyes studied the picture. “The Ben Organa-Skywalker Solo Literature Scholarship.’’ He read. “You should’ve seen how much I had to go through just to use the name, so we say BOSS.” I chuckled, remembering the almost physical altercation that almost unfolded. He began to swipe, seeing pictures of children ranging in ages, with bright, hopeful smiles. “The money that YOU gave me went to this. All these kids know is war and I don’t think it’s fair for them to not have a choice to do what they love or experience life. Granted I ended up being a teacher at the Resistance, I received a scholarship to college and I was able to meet amazing people and create so many experiences and learn so much. And I just thought it’s the least I could do to help them to think that there is more than just war for them.” I shrugged. Kylo didn’t speak as he continued to look at the pictures. He then stopped at a picture of Leia and I, which I forgot was there. The pads of his fingers brushed over his mother’s face. He had no expression as he continued to just look over at the picture. It was weird, him with such detachment as his mother looked up with a smile. He placed the datapad down and turn wrapping his arm around me. His lips grazed my forehead as he spoke, “You make everyone so happy.” I looked up at him; I wanted to ask him so bad if this included him, but his eyes were shut tightly, tears squished between his lashes. So I opted to press a kiss to his shoulder and placed my head under his chin.

I felt lips and hands press against my face. My name being called caused me to stir; I moved closer to Kylo only to feel him to push back. Then before I knew it I felt cold piercing stings against my body. I opened my eyes to see the shower pouring down on me and Kylo just watching. “WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” I tried to yell, but my voice couldn’t break above a whisper. “You have a fever.” He said over the water. In the mirror behind him, I could see myself looking like a wild loth-cat. I moved to turn off the water but my muscles felt weak, so Kylo did it instead and wrapped me in a large robe; scooping me up he placed me on the bed looking over me with worried eyes. A large hand smacked down on my forehead. “Ow,” I barely made out. My head was pounding and supposedly hot, but I was freezing. “You need medicine.” He quickly left the room leaving me to let sleep evade me once again. That was until he came back to wake me up again. “Does your throat hurt?” I nodded. “What else?” He asked. And I pointed to the various pained points. “The woman at the desk said this should be fine.” He poured the dark-colored medicine on the spoon. The smell hit my nose and had me rolling away from him. A firm grip was placed on my shoulder to stop me. “I don’t want too,” I whined, my voice not even breaking the sound barrier. But he didn’t listen and was shoving the nasty liquid in my mouth. My eyes widened as it hit my tongue, to make matters worse I couldn’t swallow. My throat refused to let anything go down, so I began to choke and coughed it out landing it all on the sheets and on him. With heavy lids, I slowly peered up at him to see him frozen with disgust. Tears burned down my fevered cheeks. Too embarrassed, tired, and in pain, I slid back down under the covers. Kylo sighed, cleaning himself up.

I floated in and out of consciousness throughout the night. There were a mumble of voices from people I didn’t know and then him. When I opened my eyes, I could make out the warm chocolate eyes looking at me filled with sadness and the gentle feeling on my left hand; patterns being brushed against my skin that would cause me to fall back into my relaxation state. I wasn’t fully aware to what was happening until I felt myself moving. I felt his grip loosen on my hand and grabbed harder. “No,” I cried out softly. All movement stopped as his lips pressed gently against my ear. “Y/N, you’re sick. You need a doctor, you need to go back home.” Kylo whispered. “No,” I felt the cooling tears slide down my cheeks. “Y/N please,” He begged. “No, I don’t want you to go. Don’t leave me.” My voice strained. His hand that was entangled with mine began to tremble. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go with you, you know that.” He said, finally removing his hand from mine. “I love you.” Was the last thing I heard, but I wasn’t sure if he said it or it was my imagination, but I said it back anyway even if I was the only person that could hear it.

Outside POV

When Poe heard you were being emitted to the medbay the first thing he did was call Kat back from her assignment. The next thing he did was rush off to get you a large bouquet of flowers. Making his way to the medbay he saw a fellow pilot nod and go on his way. This said pilot wasn’t really liked by Poe. Something about him just rubbed him the wrong way. But all those thoughts went out the door when he saw you lying in the bed hooked up to all those machines. A nurse passing by cooed at the sight of Poe; everyone knew of his infatuation for you and well you, everyone just thought you were just a headstrong girl who needed convincing that love wasn’t that bad. Poe placed the flowers on your bedside and looked down at you with a pout. He gently brushed the free strand behind your ear careful not to stir you. His hand moved to gently brush against yours only for him to see something strange. His brows furrowed as he plucked the white paper from underneath the cover. He shouldn’t be snooping around your stuff, but the Darth Vader sticker caught him by surprise. He remembered the uproar from everyone when they caught you handing out these stickers to their kids. He chuckled thinking about all the trouble you caused. Slowly he peeled the sticker back and read the neatly written letter:

Little One,

I hope all is well. Hopefully by the time you receive this, you’ll be awake. I forgot to pack your datapad so letters will be our only form of communication. I’ve asked one of them to let me know of your health status. I don’t know what happened, but you scared me and no matter what I did, you weren’t getting better. It truly hurt my heart to let you go and to see you cry when we had to separate, because I care for you more than I should. What I’m trying to say to you Y/N is that I love you. I love you so much, it wakes me up in the morning and lulls me to sleep at night. Your love carries me throughout battle to make sure of a safe return. I should’ve told you truthfully when you first came, but there was something about you that I just couldn’t let go. Y/N I’m so in love with you, I don’t know what to do, I was so scared of telling you, I don’t want to lose you.

It was signed ‘B.O.’ which caught Poe off-guard. At the moment he couldn’t recall anyone he knew with the initials pertaining such letters. All he could think about was Ben Solo and how hard you fought to use his name for the scholarship you started. But he shook his head; Kylo Ren, in love, with you? You, talking to Kylo Ren? Where would you even meet him? You were just a teacher! His thoughts were cut short from the whimpers that left your lips. Slipping the note in his back pocket, he sat on your bedside. “Hey Y/N, how are you feeling?” You looked at him with furrowed brows and then at the colorful flower arrangement to your left. “Those are for you.” Poe pointed out. “And I contacted Kat telling her to come back.” Both of his hands engulfed your left one and he watched your (y/e/c) eyes study him. “Thank you.” You croaked. “No problem. If you need anything just call me.” Poe pressed a kiss to your knuckles and watched your lips part with a mix of emotion in your eyes. This had hope filling up within him. He sent you one last smile before leaving to find out who was B.O.

#Sugar #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren imagine

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glowrioustrash · 6 years

Text

Wellness Violation

Summary: The result of your wellness test doesn’t go as you planned. What will Baron think when he finds out?

Pairing: Baron Corbin x Reader

Word Count: 2400+

Warnings: I’m boring lately... no warnings.

Author’s Note: Idk... it’s cute? I had a silly idea and it grew into this.

Tagging:@castielscamander / @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury / @kakakatey / @thirstiswet / @calwitch / @dirrrtydeeds (who never asked to be tagged, but it’s Baron so I’m tagging her)

You looked up from tying your boots as your name was called through the women’s locker room, the man’s voice echoing loudly from the door - he dare not enter - and cutting through the high-pitched tones of the women.

“Yeah?” You called back curiously.

“Wellness test. Trainer’s in five.” The order came.

You rolled your eyes and shouted back your acknowledgement.

You finished lacing your boots and threw a hoodie on over your gear. You’d stolen the hoodie from Baron months ago, but it still smelled like him. You couldn't help but take a deep breath as you zipped it up, inhaling the smell of his aftershave. It fell down to the tops of your knees and you were pretty much swimming in it. It made you feel tiny and fragile but protected by your big, bad boyfriend - it was a nice feeling to have every once in a while, working in an industry where you make your money by fighting other women.

You were following the signs backstage that would lead you to the trainer’s office when you heard Baron’s laugh bounce down the concrete walls. You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face when you heard it. You turned the corner and weren’t surprised to see he was sitting with Corey, the two of them laughing as Baron gave him a playful shove.

“Hey, watch it. They need him for TV tonight.” You teased as you approached the boys. Baron wrapped an arm around your waist as soon as you were at his side, pulling you close.

“Yeah, Corbin. Listen to your girl, we both know she’s the brains of the relationship.” Corey teased.

“Damn straight she is.” Baron smiled down at you. Even with him sitting on the road case and you standing, he was still the taller one.

“Although she’s choosing to be with you, so really…” Corey trailed off as you scoffed, smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand. “Hey, they need me for TV, remember?”

“I’ll make a call, get Booker to replace you.” You smirked, making Baron laugh loudly.

“That’s cold.” Corey laughed.

“Where you headin’, babe?” Baron asked you, adjusting how he was sitting so he could pull you between his legs.

“Trainer’s. Wellness test.” You replied with a shrug.

“Oh shit. Guess I shouldn’t have put all that meth in your smoothie this morning.” Baron sighed.

“Funny.” You deadpanned, ignoring Corey’s chuckling.

“I’ll miss you during your suspension,” Baron lamented dramatically, burying his face into your neck. “Have to find someone else to curl up with at night.”

“Like you could find someone to put up with you.” You shot back playfully.

“Damn, your girl is savage.” Corey piped up.

“Mmm, just the way I like her.” Baron hummed before nipping at your neck, making you squeal and try to jump away. He held tight, not letting you go.

“Baron, I gotta go.” You reminded, petting the back of his head. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Fine.” He huffed, dropping his arms from around you.

“See you in a bit.” You promised with a quick kiss.

“Knock ‘em dead.” He told you, smacking your ass as you started to turn. You stalled in your movements, shooting him a look before you continued on your way.

“Later, Corey.” You gave the other man a wave as you left.

“Where’s my kiss?” Corey called after you. You didn’t have to look back to know what was happening next, hearing the two start to play wrestle as Baron warned him to stay away from you.

You made it to the trainer’s office, seeing Dash Wilder sitting on a chair outside, waiting.

“Hey Dash.” You greeted as you sat next time him. “Wellness test?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking bored. “Not like I have anything better to do, right?”

You huffed a laugh, grinning at him as the silence fell over the two of you again. You looked up and down the hall, making sure no one would overhear before leaning in closer to him.

“Think they make Lesnar do this?” You scoffed quietly.

Dash didn’t respond, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. You chuckled, feeling the same way.

“Alright Dash, you’re up.” The doctor called as he opened the door.

“See you ‘round.” Dash told you as he entered the room, door closing behind him.

You took your phone out of your pocket, wasting time on Candy Crush while you waited for your turn. Luckily, it didn’t take too long before you were being called into the office. You went through the motions quickly, used to the test by now, and the doctor told you the results would be in shortly.

You were sitting in catering with Baron about 45 minutes later when word made it back to you that they needed to see you in the trainer’s office again.

“Again?” Baron asked with a frown, wiping his face with a napkin.

“Maybe they need to draw blood again? Something went wrong?” You wondered out loud. “I’ll be right back.”

Baron mumbled an “alright” around his mouthful of food, making you roll your eyes fondly at him.

You knocked on the doorframe to the trainer’s room and stuck your head through the door.

“Oh good, you’re here.” The doctor waved you in.

“Yeah, is everything okay?” You asked, entering the room.

“Um… yes. Everything is good.” He answered hesitantly. “You… may want to sit down.”

“Okay, you’re kinda worrying me.” You drawled, sinking into the chair.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you compete tonight.” He finally let you know. Your blood ran cold as your body went numb. “There were some unexpected readings in the test results, so we ran a few extra tests…”

“E-excuse me?” You stuttered.

“The test-”

“There must be some mistake.” You rushed to cut him off, starting to panic. “Doc, I don’t take anything! I never have! I take advil and midol, that’s it. I’m not on anything!”

“I know, it’s okay.” The doctor tried to calm you down.

“Then what is it?”

“The test showed signs of HCG.” He explained. “Also known as the pregnancy hormone.”

The room span for a moment, and if you thought your blood had run cold before, it was nothing compared to the shock dousing your system now.

“Pregnancy hormone…” You parrotted in a daze, making sure you heard properly.

“Yes. By the levels, I would guess about a month along, maybe a month and a half.” He explained.

You sat silent, in a complete daze as you absorbed the information. You were pregnant. With a baby. With a human baby. With your baby. With yours and Baron’s baby. Baron.

“G-get Baron. Please.” You mumbled your request. The doctor nodded and stuck his head out of the room. You heard him ask someone to find Baron before he came back, crouching in front of you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, resting a hand on your knee.

“Pregnant…” You muttered.

“Yes.” He nodded, watching you closely with concerned eyes. “I’m guessing this is not exactly planned.”

You shook your head. You wanted kids of course, but thought maybe in 5 years, 10 years. After you were married at the very least. Not now.

“Is there anything I can get you? Water? Do you need to lie down?”

You shook your head in response. The doctor stopped trying to talk to you, you were clearly not in the right mind frame to absorb any information. Your thoughts were swimming.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Baron’s voice cut through the fog as he ran into the room. You reached for him and he dropped to his knees beside you, hugging you closely. When you didn’t answer him, he turned to the doctor. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The blood work from the wellness test…” The doctor trailed off, realizing through Baron’s stern glare that he was less interested in the details. “It appears the two of you are expecting.”

“Expecting?” Baron snapped. “Expecting what?”

“A baby…” You whispered.

“A ba-” He started to question before the shock started to hit him. “Did you just say…”

You nodded in response, pulling back far enough to look at his face. As scared as you were, you needed to know how he was feeling. With the news being so fresh, there was nothing but absolute shock on his face.

“I’ll leave the two of you for a minute.” The doctor, who you had honestly forgotten was there, bowed out of the room, closing the door to give the two of you privacy.

“You’re pregnant?” Baron asked, his voice so quiet. Baron wasn’t a quiet guy, his booming voice usually dominating whatever room he was in. It felt wrong to have him sound so small.

“I guess so.” You breathed.

“But we always…” Baron trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Nothing is 100%.” You shrugged. The silence sat heavy in the room while the two of you tried to figure it all out.

“What do we do?” You finally broke the silence.

“Well… what do you want to do?” Baron asked.

“Me?”

“It’s easy for me to make a decision. It’s not my body or career on the line.” He pointed out.

“Are you saying…”

“I’m with you, whatever you decide.” He promised, a burning passion replacing the glazed look of shock in his eyes. “I fucking love you, and I’ve been pretty sure for a while that you’re it for me. I want to have a family with you but if you’re not ready, it can wait.”

“Baron…” You breathed, feeling the tears pooling in your eyes.

“We don’t even have to decide now. We have time, right? That’s how these things work? Let’s think about, okay?” He continued, running his hand through your hair. “It’s heavy… holy fuck, it’s a lot…” His eyes wandered away from you, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he thought about all the responsibilities that came with having a child.

You brought his attention back to you by cupping his cheek. “I love you. I love you so damn much right now.” You gushed, feeling the tears spill over. He pulled you into a deep, soothing kiss.

“We’ll figure it out.” He mumbled against your lips.

“We’ll figure it out.” You agreed.

“Daddy!” The little boy shrieked in happiness as Baron appeared through the curtain. The angry scowl he’d had on his face for the cameras melting in an instant.

“There’s my little man!” He crouched down, holding his arms out. You let go of Ryan’s hand so he could scurry into Baron’s arms. Baron scooped him up easily, holding him on his hip as he walked towards you.

Since Ryan’s birth you had made various random appearances, both in ring and backstage. You’d been a surprise entrant to two Women’s Royal Rumbles as well as appeared in promos as a part of a few of Baron’s storylines. THe WWE Universe knew the two of you were together, although they were beginning to compare you to John and Nikki: together for years with no wedding in sight.

Baron had proposed when you were 6 months pregnant, but you denied it. At first he’d been devastated, but you felt like he was proposing because you were pregnant. He understood and warned you he’d ask again. He did, the night of Ryan’s second birthday party. You were so exhausted - the normal day-to-day of a mother, plus Baron being back on the road, and adding on the party planning - you outright refused and called him selfish for asking. You felt bad after you’d gotten some sleep, but still didn’t feel like it was the right time.

“What’d you think, babe?” He asked you, pressing a kiss to your lips before you had a chance to answer.

“Yuck.” Ryan stuck his tongue out as he watched his parents kiss. Baron laughed and pressed a kiss to Ryan’s cheek in retaliation. The four year old laughed and tried to push Baron away.

“Well, don’t hate me but…” You trailed off, biting your lip. “I kinda missed the match.”

“What? Why?” Baron looked disappointed, a frown taking over his face.

“Wellness test.” You shrug.

“The joys of returning to The ‘E.” Baron joked.

“Well, that’s the thing…” You trailed off, fighting to keep the grin off your face.

“What are you trying to say, babe?” Baron asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

You couldn’t stop the smile as you purposely glanced at Ryan, then back at Baron. “What do you think I’m trying to say?”

“Again?” He breathed in disbelief.

“Again.” You nodded. Baron laughed and pulled you into a deep kiss, Ryan protesting and making gagging sounds the whole time.

“You gonna be knocked up everytime they test you?” He questioned you, a wide smile on his face.

“It takes two to tango mister, this isn’t just my fault.” You scoffed, batting him on the chest.

“I do love to tango.” Baron agreed with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“What’s a tango?” Ryan asked, tired of being ignored.

“It’s a dance, sweetie.” You told him, ignoring the glint in Baron’s eye.

:”I wantsta tango.” Ryan declared.

“Not until you’re 30.” You joked, kissing your son on the temple.

“16.” Baron scoffed.

“You gonna stick to that rule if this one’s a girl?” You challenged, holding a hand over your stomach.

“40.” Baron corrected. “Maybe never.”

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned, shooting Ryan a silly look as he rested his head on Baron’s shoulder. The boy was clearly getting tired.

“You know,” he stated, catching your attention. “Two kids… I think it’s about time you let me put a ring on that finger.”

You rolled your eyes good naturedly, but then you took a second to think. Here you were, pregnant with another child, putting your career unexpetedly on hold for the second time. Maybe there wasn’t a ‘perfect time’ in the cards.

“Maybe you’re right.” You shrugged, smiling brightly when you saw the surprise on Baron’s face. He’d clearly been expecting you to deny him again. “Make a proper proposal of it and we’ll see where it gets us.”

“I already wasted two good proposals.” He pointed out, adjusting Ryan on his hip. “You’re not gonna make me waste a third, are you?”

“I could tell you, but what’s the fun in that?” You teased lightly, knowing you would say yes. You were damn ready to be married to this man. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

“Better be.” He grumbled, smile still on his face. He tilted his head towards Ryan, whose eyes were staying closed longer and longer every time he blinked. “Let’s get this one to bed, then we can celebrate.”

“Celebrate? I haven’t said yes yet.” You pointed out as the three of you made your way through the halls.

“Yet?” He smirked.

“Dammit!”

#Baron Corbin imagine #Baron Corbin fic #Baron Corbin fan fic #Baron Corbin fan fiction #Baron Corbin x OC #Baron Corbin x Reader #Baron Corbin reader insert #glowrious writings

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simonnsaunders · 6 years

Note

Simon & Jeremy go to a party with the troupe that consists of cute drunken flirting that they don't even remember the next day when everyone is making fun of them for it & saying they ship them.

WOW this ended up being a lot longer/more serious than I intended. It was still really fun to write, though, so thanks for the request! (5k+) [AO3]

Simon Saunders did not expect this particular Monday to be any different from all the other Mondays he’s suffered through this year. He assumed he would go to class and then to rehearsal exactly like normal. He should have known that wasn’t going to be the case.

It all started when his alarm didn’t go off. Sadly, he woke up to the sound of his mother banging on his door.

“Simon!” she shouted. “Honey, school starts in twenty minutes!”

He had to rush through his normal routine, causing his hair to go in all kinds of directions (and none of them being the correct one). Instead of carefully selecting an outfit, he threw on the first button-down he could find. It was covered in wrinkles. Simon was disgusted.

He usually wasn’t one to speed, and if anyone asked he would surely deny it, but he definitely stepped on the gas pedal a little harder than normal to get to Lilette’s on time. It didn’t matter. He was still ten minutes late.

When his best friend climbed in the car, she did a double take. “What happened to you?” she asked.

Simon panicked and quickly checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. He furiously tried to smooth his hair down before grumbling, “I woke up late. It has not been a fun morning.”

Lilette laughed and shut the door behind her. “I can see that. Just drive, dummy.”

So he did. He drove carefully (but speedily) to school. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Lilette was trying to repress laughter the whole time. It drove him crazy not knowing what she found so funny, but he was too tired and too frustrated to ask.

However, by the time he pulled into the parking lot and Lilette was still chuckling to herself, he’d had enough. “What is so funny?” he asked, stopping the car and turning to face the girl in the passenger seat.

She just put a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “Sorry,” she said through her fingers.

Simon crossed his arms. “I’m not letting you out of this car until you tell me what’s so funny.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you unlocked it, then.”

She opened the door and hopped out, slinging her backpack happily over one shoulder. “See you at rehearsal, Prince Charming!” She winked at him and walked away.

Simon narrowed his eyes. Why did that sound familiar?

Simon’s mind was starting to get fuzzy. Boy, if his parents could see him now…Robert Saunders would not be pleased.

Jolene passed him another cup, and he gave her a look, trying to maintain some self-control.

“Come on, Saunders!” she shouted at him, grabbing his shirt and drunkenly pulling herself towards his ear. “Don’t be the lame church boy everyone says you are!”

From what Simon could understand, not drinking would be a bad thing. So he raised the plastic cup to his lips and took several gulps. Everyone else began to chant “Chug! Chug! Chug!”, and when he had finished the whole thing and raised his arms in celebration, they all cheered loudly.

“Jeremy, are you sure your parents aren’t going to find out about this?” asked Lexi. She had been the one spending the whole night worrying that they were going to get caught.

Jeremy, who had been pretty far gone for a while, just laughed. “They’re out for the whole weekend, okay? Chill out a little. This house is all ours.”

He stood up and swayed a little bit. Michael, who was sitting closest to him, giggled and held his legs in support. Once he had steadied himself, he held his arms out and everyone fell silent.

“Who wants to play a game?” he asked, a stupid grin on his face. His question was met with a roar of cheering from the troupe.

“Ooh, pick me!” said Lilette, shooting her hand up in the air. “Let’s play truth or dare!”

Everyone else cheered in agreement.

Jeremy grinned even harder. “Alllllright!” he called. “Get in a circle!”

He then promptly stumbled over to where Simon was sitting and collapsed next to him. The taller boy was evidently just trying to sit down, but he was drunk to the point where his descent to the ground was much less than graceful. He fell into Simon’s side, and Simon wasn’t thinking clearly enough to push him away like he normally would have. Instead, he grabbed the other boy by the shoulders and straightened him up. “You’re a mess,” Simon told him.

Jeremy’s grin got even wider, which Simon didn’t think was possible. “You love it,” he replied, leaning in close so that his arm was touching Simon’s. Simon felt his stomach flip over at the touch. There was definitely a voice in his brain telling him to push Jeremy away, but the alcohol tuned it out, and he was grateful for that. Being constantly defensive got pretty exhausting after a while.

“I wanna go first!” Jolene called. She stood up, closed her eyes, and started spinning around with her finger pointed out. When she stopped, she was pointing at Maashous, who had been hiding in the corner.

She opened her eyes and they widened when she saw who she had landed on. “Maashous!” she cried, stumbling over to where he was sitting and grabbing his arm. “Truth or dare?”

“Uh…dare?” Maashous hadn’t actually drank that much, and compared to the rest of them, his head was still securely on his shoulders. He shrugged himself out of Jolene’s grasp.

Jolene put her hands on her hips, clearly thinking as hard as her incapacitated brain would allow. Finally, her face lit up and she started rubbing her hands together. “I dare you to let me straighten your hair!”

He looked genuinely surprised. “What? I - come on, Jolene, where are you going to find a hair straightener?” A look of disappointment struck her face for a moment until Simon heard Jeremy gasp next to him and say “Wait! My mom has one!”

Jolene grinned again and disappeared down the hallway. Sure enough, two minutes later, she reentered the room brandishing a hair straightener.

After a lot of fussing from all the girls and several yelps of “Get away from my head!” from Maashous, the lights boy had been given his makeover. It wasn’t the cleanest hair job Simon had ever seen, but it certainly was entertaining to see Maashous’ normally bushy hair lie so flat. Still, Simon made a mental note never to let drunk Jolene come anywhere near his head with a burning object.

When everyone had calmed down again, Maashous frustratedly wiped his now much longer hair out of his face and scanned the room. “Jeremy,” he said, “truth or dare?”

Simon felt the boy tense up next to him and realized that their arms were still touching. He didn’t move away, though. It felt kind of nice.

“Truth,” said Jeremy.

“Boring!” called Lilette, laughing. Jeremy just rolled his eyes at her.

“Ok,” said Maashous, “who’s the most attractive person in the troupe?”

There was a collective “ooooh” from everybody in the circle. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on Jeremy. Simon expected him to at least think about his answer first, but he replied instantly.

“Oh, that’s easy,” he said, slurring over his words. He slung an arm around Simon’s shoulders. “Simon, hands down.”

Simon felt his face burn red. He tried to shrug Jeremy’s arm off of him, but it was no use. The boy had a tight grip.

“How so?” said Lilette teasingly. Simon glared at her, but she just winked at him. She was eating this stuff up.

Jeremy just sighed and turned to look at Simon. His clear blue eyes were a little glazed over, but they were still fixed intently on Simon’s. “You’re just so…dreamy,” he said, speaking directly to Simon. “You’ve got these gorgeous dark eyes and…and this soft hair…” (he tousled Simon’s hair with his free hand, and Simon felt his face go a shade darker) “…you’re like a real-life Disney Prince. A real Prince Charming.”

Simon watched several pairs of eyebrows go up. Several of his friends were very obviously trying not to lose it. It was clear that Jeremy was past the state of having any filter, and it sounded like his words were coming from nowhere. But Simon knew better.

“Tell us how you really feel, man,” Robbie said sarcastically. Everyone else laughed.

“You guys are so cuuute,” Gwen teased.

Simon was one hundred percent sure his face had never been this red before. “We’re not - this isn’t - ” His words were silenced when Jeremy just sighed again and leaned his head on Simon’s shoulder. Poor Simon didn’t have the heart to shrug him off. Instead he held out his plastic cup in the air, and Clark, who was sitting closest, happily poured him some more beer. He raised it to his mouth, thinking that he was going to need a lot to make it through this night.

The bell rang just as Simon made it into the biology classroom. Mr. Kranepool raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything. Simon said a quick prayer of thanks that he had made it on time (his perfect attendance record was not about to start suffering now) and hastily sat down.

He was so focused on how late he was that he didn’t even think to acknowledge the boy sitting next to him. In fact, he had completely forgotten he was there until he cleared his throat rather unnecessarily. Simon turned to see Jeremy looking right at him. He felt his stomach swoop just a little at the eye contact; sometimes he felt like Jeremy’s eyes belonged to a different world.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” Jeremy murmured as Kranepool started droning on.

“I woke up late,” he muttered back for the second time that day. He instinctively reached up and tried to flatten his hair as he thought about his previous conversation with Lilette.

“Don’t,” said Jeremy.

“What?”

“Your hair. It looks good messy.”

Simon slowly lowered his hand. “Oh. Thanks,” he mumbled awkwardly. He turned to face forward and focused whatever energy he had into paying attention to Kranepool.

After twenty minutes of trying (and failing) to take good, coherent notes, Simon heaved a sigh of relief when their teacher closed out of the PowerPoint he was teaching from. Kranepool fumbled with a stack of papers and starting passing out worksheets. “Work on these with a partner, please,” he said. “You have the rest of class.”

Simon didn’t need to look up to know Jeremy was waiting for him, but he did anyways. The other boy was holding out a worksheet to him with a question in his eyes.

“Sure,” Simon sighed quietly. “Let’s get this done.”

He pushed his desk so that it was next to Jeremy’s and tried to ignore the fact that Jeremy Travers was very much in his personal space.

Instead of discussing biology, Jeremy asked, “So, do you remember anything from Saturday night?”

Simon startled. The question caught him completely off-guard. “Uh…we all hung out at your house?” To be honest, Simon had been thinking about it for a while. He knew there had been a troupe party, and he knew there had been a lot of alcohol involved, so it really wasn’t a huge shock that his memory was drawing a blank. Still, he had been wracking his brain trying to come up with any stupid thing he might have done, and he had come up with nothing so far. It deeply concerned him.

Jeremy snorted. “Yeah, but do you remember anything else?”

Simon looked at him, trying to read his expression. It was impossible. “No?”

“Oh.”

“Why, what do you remember?” Simon asked. His panic was increasing by the second.

Jeremy shrugged and looked down at his paper. “Not a lot. But Michael and Maashous have been teasing me about you all morning and I guess I was just hoping you would remember why.”

“About me? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Jeremy gave him a look that said ‘really?’, but Simon pretended not to notice. His strategy of “pretend Jeremy didn’t clearly have feelings for him” had been working out alright so far. Why stop now?

Simon cleared his throat. “Look, can we just get back to the worksheet?”

Jeremy didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at Simon, almost as if he was caught in some kind of trance.

“Hello? Please?”

Jeremy coughed and looked down at his paper. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Simon didn’t know a simple game of Truth or Dare could get this intense. It had started out innocently enough, but an hour or so and several drinks later, Jeremy was somehow laying in his lap and Simon had no idea how it had happened. People were sharing secrets left and right, and Simon had lost track of who had kissed who.

“Maybe we should stop,” said Lexi, once again being the voice of reason. “It’s getting kind of late.”

Robbie leaned over to check his phone. “It’s only midnight,” he said. “We have plenty of time.”

“Yeah, if you’re used to doing this,” Lexi replied. “I wanna go to bed.” “Come on, let’s just do one more,” said Jolene. “Simon, you haven’t gone yet, have you?”

Simon saw the mischievous look in her eyes. Jeremy’s head suddenly felt much heavier on his legs than it did before. “Maybe Lexi’s right,” he said. “We’ve been at this for a while. Let’s just pop in a movie - ”

“Truth or dare?”

“I really don’t think - ”

Jeremy reached up and started poking his face. “Simon,” he whined. “Truth or dare?”

Simon groaned and pushed Jeremy’s hand out of the way. But Jeremy, who had surprisingly fast reflexes for someone that drunk, took the opportunity and grabbed his hand. He held Simon’s left hand with both of his and pressed it to his chest. Simon blushed but didn’t move. He felt like he was getting more drunk on Jeremy’s touch than the actual alcohol.

“Fine!” he said. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Jeremy.” There was no hesitation.

Jeremy sat up, let go of Simon’s hand, and propped himself on his arm. “That’s easy,” he said. “We gotta do it for the play, anyways. Right, Si?”

Simon’s stomach did a somersault at the sound of the nickname. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied. He was too intoxicated to even think about saying no.

All the girls started squealing and laughing and clapping their hands together like this was some kind of show. People were whispering, but Simon was too focused on Jeremy to notice. His brain couldn’t come up with a single comprehensible thought. All he could see were Jeremy’s lips.

Simon grabbed either side of his face, and pulled him in close. He had no idea if it was Jeremy who initially kissed him or if Simon got there first, but it didn’t really matter. Once their lips touched, Simon didn’t care about anything else anymore.

Jeremy wrapped his arms tightly around Simon’s neck and moved so that he was full-on sitting in Simon’s lap. They kissed each other, and they kissed each other some more. At some point, Jeremy’s tongue found its way into Simon’s mouth, and Simon let it. If he had been drunk before, then there was surely no hope for him now. He was glad his back was propped up against the couch behind him. Otherwise he definitely would have toppled over.

Someone might have been shouting something, but Simon didn’t hear it. He couldn’t see; he couldn’t hear. The only thing he could do was feel. He felt Jeremy’s lips on his. He felt the soft fabric of Jeremy’s shirt between his fingers. He felt the electricty running through his body like it was on fire. He felt his heart burst from the sensation of kissing this boy.

Eventually Jeremy was forcefully pulled away from him, and Simon opened his eyes, disgruntled. Lilette was standing over both of them, her hands on Jeremy’s arms. “We’re going to watch a movie,” she said. Was she laughing? She might have been laughing. The sound of her laughter made Simon laugh out loud too, even though nothing was funny. “You two can either calm down or go make out somewhere else.”

“Let’s do that,” said Jeremy, breaking free from Lilette’s grip and leaning in close to Simon’s ear. “Come on, Si, let’s go upstairs. I wanna kiss you again.” His arms were still wrapped tightly around Simon’s neck. Simon found it impossible to focus on anything with Jeremy’s intoxicating mouth that close to his face.

Still, when he looked up at Lilette’s face, something seemed to shift into focus a little bit. The sight of his best friend reminded him that some kind of world existed beyond Jeremy’s lips. So he mustered up everything he had and shook his head. “No, let’s watch the movie with them,” he said slowly. His voice was coming out much deeper than usual, and it scared him a little bit.

“But whyyyyy?” Jeremy whined.

Simon wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize that being this close to another boy went against everything he believed in. All he knew was that he was starting to get tired, and he didn’t want to make his friends uncomfortable. “Come on,” he said to Jeremy. “It’ll be good.”

Jeremy pouted for a little bit, but once someone turned out the lights and the TV started blaring music, he gave in. He turned and positioned himself so that he was between Simon’s legs and leaned back to rest his head on Simon’s chest. Simon felt giddy from the kiss, from the alcohol, and now from the feeling of Jeremy laying on him. He snaked his arms around Jeremy’s waist and buried his face in the other boy’s soft hair. He didn’t know what movie was playing. Some kind of Disney film, perhaps. It didn’t matter to him, because he had his own real-life fairytale in his arms.

“Mr. Mazzu, can we please rehearse the Word of Your Body Reprise today?” asked Michael, his hand shooting into the air before Lou even had the chance to speak.

Mr. Mazzu’s brow furrowed. “I was actually thinking we could start with Mirror Blue Night and work our way backwards through the first act. Robbie - ”

“With all due respect, sir, I think the second act is the place to be today,” said Robbie, cutting Mr. Mazzu off. Simon watched as Lilette stood right behind him and tried to stifle her laughter.

“I think Simon and Jeremy will be fine if we start with the first act,” said Ms. Wolfe.

“Oh, I think they really need to rehearse their scene now,” said Jolene. “To let off some steam, perhaps - ”

“That’s enough!” called Mr. Mazzu. The entire troupe, minus Simon and Jeremy, were in stitches over the situation. Simon could not tell for the life of him what was so funny. He tried to catch Jeremy’s eye, but the other boy’s gaze was fixed on the ground, his face slowly turning pink.

“What has gotten into all of you?” asked Tracey, putting her hands on her hips.

No one answered. Everyone tried to pull a straight face, to no avail.

Finally, Michael said, “We just think Simon and Jeremy are really good actors - ” He stopped mid-sentence, letting out a loud laugh.

“Come on, Mr. Mazzu, don’t you want to see some great acting?” asked Gwen, raising her eyebrows. Everyone else lost it at the word ‘acting’.

“You’re all great actors, now get in your place for Mirror Blue Night!” cried Mr. Mazzu, who was clearly losing it.

Simon didn’t need to be told twice. He got out of his seat and scrambled to the stage. Everyone else, on the other hand, took their time. When Lilette walked by him, he grabbed her arm to stop her. “What is going on?” he hissed at her.

She snorted. “You mean you don’t remember Saturday?”

“Lilette, what happened on Saturday?”

She shook her head. “Let’s just say your scene with Jeremy will have a lot of authenticity from now on.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

She just giggled and walked away from him. Simon groaned in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. He tried to remember anything from Saturday, but nothing was coming to him. He remembered showing up at Jeremy’s house, he remembered dancing with Lilette for a little bit, and then he remembered waking up in a bed of some kind on Sunday morning and driving home. Everything in between that was a complete blur.

Simon watched Robbie climb onto the mini-stage and begin his song. He thought and he thought and he thought, but try as he might, nothing helpful came to him.

It took Simon a full forty-five minutes to realize they were watching Tangled. Who could blame him, though? His brain didn’t have the capacity to think about anything other than the beautiful boy in his arms.

Some of the troupe had fallen asleep on the couches in Jeremy’s living room. Others were singing along loudly to every song in the movie. Simon still hadn’t moved his face from Jeremy’s hair. He just sat there, getting high off the scent of Jeremy’s shampoo.

When they got to the scene with the lanterns, Jeremy lifted his head a little to look at Simon.

“Si?”

“Hmm?” Simon murmured, moving his head back.

“That’s you,” whispered Jeremy. “The prince. That’s you. You’re my prince.”

Simon grinned like an idiot. “Jer, Flynn Rider isn’t even a prince. Not until the very end.”

“Is it the very end yet?”

“No,” Simon laughed quietly.

“Well, I don’t care,” said Jeremy, settling back against Simon’s chest. “You’re still Prince Charming to me.”

It was the cheesiest thing he had ever heard in his life, and Simon didn’t have the heart to tell him that Prince Charming wasn’t in this movie. Not by a long shot. Simon thought for a second, and then leaned down to whisper in Jeremy’s ear.

“Do you wanna go somewhere else now?”

Jeremy didn’t need to think about it. “Yes,” he whispered back.

They both stood up as quietly as they could, which to be honest, wasn’t that quiet. They were both still very, very drunk, and it took them several times of falling on top of each other before they were leaving the room. Their limbs were all tangled together as they went up the staircase, giggling sotly.

Finally, they made it to the top. Jeremy grabbed Simon’s hand and lead him into the first room on the left. “This is my room,” he said, turning on a small lamp so that Simon could see around.

It wasn’t a huge bedroom, and Simon liked that. It felt very cozy. The walls were painted dark red and were littered with various video game posters. There were dirty clothes scattered along the floor; the bed wasn’t made at all.

“Jeremy, you’re a mess,” Simon giggled.

“We can’t all be neat freaks like you, Saunders,” he replied. He quickly smoothed out his comforter and sat down on his bed, patting the spot next to him. Simon sat next to him without hesitation. Their arms touched instantly, and this time, Simon didn’t even think about pulling away.

They didn’t say anything for a moment. Simon felt like they didn’t really need to. He was happy just sitting in silence with Jeremy. The alcohol was still coursing through his body and convincing him that sitting next to this boy was exactly what he needed to be doing in that moment.

And then somehow Jeremy’s mouth was on his again. Simon didn’t know how it happened, but he responded eagerly. He let Jeremy’s tongue back in and placed his hands firmly on the other boy’s waist. Once again, everything else slipped away. He let Jeremy’s mouth work its magic. Jeremy’s lips were on Simon’s lips, and then they were trailing down Simon’s neck, and Simon felt a shiver go down his spine and shake his entire body.

After an eternity of staying like that, with Jeremy’s lips exploring Simon’s face and Simon’s hands exploring Jeremy’s upper body, Jeremy pulled away. “Simon,” he murmured.

“No, come back,” Simon whined quietly, placing his hands on Jeremy’s neck and trying to pull him back in.

“Simon,” Jeremy murmured again. “Simon, please.”

Simon finally pulled back to look at him. “What?”

“What are we doing?” Jeremy asked. “I mean, like, really. What is this?”

“It’s good,” replied Simon.

Jeremy shook his head. “Are we going to remember any of this in the morning? Are you going to care about me tomorrow?”

Simon frowned. He couldn’t think straight enough to have any conversation, let alone one about feelings. He tried to focus on what Jeremy was saying, but it was hard. He just wanted to kiss him some more.

“Yeah,” said Simon slowly. “Of course I’m gonna care about you.” It was a stupid question, wasn’t it? Why would he be kissing this boy so much if he didn’t care about him?

“Are you sure? You never did before tonight.”

Jeremy sounded hurt. He sounded sad, and Simon wanted to make him happy again. He hated Jeremy’s voice sounding so sad. He decided it was one of the worst sounds in the universe.

“Don’t be silly,” said Simon. He hugged Jeremy close to him. He felt Jeremy tense up and then relax, returning the hug. They sat there, embracing each other. The other boy felt so small in his arms.

“Ok,” Jeremy whispered back.

“I’m tired, Jer,” said Simon. “Can we go to bed?”

Jeremy pulled away from him. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Let’s go to bed.”

He scooted back and laid down, holding an arm out for Simon. Simon gladly climbed under the covers with him and fell into his open arm. He wrapped his own arm around Jeremy’s waist and snuggled up in his shoulder. A wave of exhaustion hit him all at once, and he felt his eyelids droop shut.

“Goodnight, Simon,” he heard Jeremy whisper.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled back.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened at that stupid party?” snapped Simon to Lilette as they walked out to the car together.

“No,” she replied. “Watching you struggle is much more fun.”

“Lilette, did I - did I do…stuff? With Jeremy?”

She just laughed. “I don’t know, Simon, what do you consider ‘stuff’?” She put air quotes around the word.

Simon angrily threw open his car door and chucked his backpack in the back seat. “You know what I mean,” he muttered.

“My lips are sealed,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat.

Simon started his car and pulled out of the school parking lot. “Fine,” he eventually said, realizing that no amount of begging would get Lilette to spill the beans. “Whatever. But will you at least tell me why Jeremy looked so depressed?”

“Actually, I don’t know about that one,” Lilette replied. She sounded genuine.

Simon just sighed in frustration and rolled his window down. He cranked up the music, let his arm hang out the window, and tried to ignore the image of Jeremy’s dejected face that just kept popping up in his brain.

Even after he had dropped Lilette off and gone home, his mind was still spinning. He wished he remembered what had happened. He wished he knew why Jeremy was acting so strange. He wished he knew why the troupe just kept laughing and laughing and laughing.

Of course, he had his ideas. Simon Saunders wasn’t stupid. He realized that the possibility of getting carried away with Jeremy under the influence of alcohol was pretty likely. It’s not like he could totally block out the butterflies he got in his stomach every time they looked at each other. Still, maybe he was better off not remembering what happened. Maybe he was better off just pretending like nothing ever went down.

Jeremy woke up to sunlight streaming in through his window. The first thing he noticed was his raging headache. Jesus Christ, he thought, how much did I drink last night?

The second thing he noticed was the warm body pressed against his. He turned his head, and to his utter shock, Simon Saunders was laying at his side, sound asleep. Jeremy felt his heart ache a little. He didn’t think it was possible for Simon to look any more beautiful than usual, but lying there, fast asleep, he truly resembled an angel. His dark hair was tousled over his forehead, and Jeremy itched to run his fingers through it and detangle all the knots.

Jeremy wished more than anything that he remembered what had happened the night before, but his pounding headache made it very clear that there were no hopes for that. Still, something truly wild had to have taken place in order for Simon to be here, in Jeremy’s arms. Jeremy had never fathomed that this day would come.

And then he realized the panic that Simon would go into if he woke up like this. Simon had issues whenever Jeremy so much as touched him, how was he going to feel about waking up in his bed?

Jeremy knew he had to pretend like this never happened. He felt a deep physical pain like never before as he carefully sat up and climbed over Simon to get out of bed. He felt his heart shatter into pieces as he changed out of the shirt that smelled like Simon and into a clean one. He felt an ache run through his bones as he took one last glance at the peaceful, sleeping boy before closing the door behind him and tiptoeing downstairs.

Tears threatened to spill, but he forced himself not to cry. He just quietly walked into the kitchen and started pulling out stuff to make breakfast for everyone. It was the least he could do. He was a courteous host, after all.

But once he had put the bacon in the frying pan and the bread in the toaster, he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt the tears roll down his cheeks, one after the other. Stop it, he told himself. This is stupid. You can’t cry over a stupid boy.

It just hurt so much. Knowing that he and Simon had shared something special and never finding out what that was would kill him. He knew he was never going to be with Simon like that again. The boy was too proud, too naive to ever admit he had feelings for Jeremy. Jeremy was just going to have to get used to pretending like nothing was wrong.

He heard soft footsteps, and he quickly wiped his face off with the back of his hand. He turned around, but when he saw who it was, he turned back again as fast as he could.

“Hey,” said Simon quietly. His voice was low and scratchy, and the very sound of it made Jeremy want to collapse.

“Do you…do you want breakfast?” Jeremy asked, still facing the oven. He was afraid of what he would do if he looked Simon in the eye.

He heard Simon shuffle his feet. “Um, thanks, but I’m good. I think I’m actually just going to head out. I told my parents I was staying the night at Lilette’s, and church starts in an hour, so I should really - ”

“Got it,” said Jeremy shortly. “See you.”

“Bye, Jeremy.”

He heard Simon pause, like he was going to say something else, but he never did. He just left the kitchen as quietly as he had entered it.

Jeremy went back to fixing breakfast. This never happened, he told himself. That’s what he was going to say to get himself through this. Simon Saunders was never in his house. This never happened.

“Jeremy!” he heard his friends call. One by one, everyone slowly woke up and trudged into the kitchen. He just plastered on a smile and served the very hungover troupe breakfast.

This never happened.

But maybe one day it will.

#simon saunders #jeremy travers #siremy #rise #rise nbc #heyyy what's up everybody #this probably needed more editing but I have a Spanish final tonight and I really wanted to get it up before the episode airs #so enjoy! i'm still pretty proud of it #my fics

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

Note

Hey there....I've had kindof a bad day so do you have any headcannons about how the Egos cry? Sorry if its not okay I'm asking....

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that! I don’t know if these headcanons will helpyou feel any better, unless it makes you feel like you’re not alone. If that’sthe case, here you go; I hope it helps :(

Septic Boys

Anti: He scream-cries,doubled over, clutching at his throat and his shirt and his eyes as if they’reon fire, but it’s really just to stop the tears from coming. He screams andscreams until his voice starts to give out and it’s only when it breaks,mid-scream, that he stops. From there, he just hisses through his teeth, ashard as he can. As he calms down, his whole body fritzes and spits static as hesinks onto the floor, breathing raggedly, staring down at his hands.

Jackieboy:He never wants to be seen when he cries. He sits or lies down in his room inthe dark, staring meekly at the floor while his vision blurs but sniffling andscrubbing furiously whenever the tears spill over. He berates himself in hismind for being weak and childish but eventually there are more tears than hecan wipe away and he just pulls his mask down around his neck because there’sno use for it now. He pulls his hood further over his face and lets himself sobit all out.

Marvin: Herefuses to accept he’s even crying. He pulls off his mask right away because hedoesn’t want to get it wet and paces back and forth, muttering to himself.“Stop it, stop, you’re just being ridiculous. This is stupid…Why are you evendoing this right now? This isn’t even something to cry about, so just suck itup and…” He goes on until he thinks he’s composed and then as soon as he trailsoff, he just picks up the closest edge of his cape, buries his face in it anddissolves into a weepy mess.

Schneep: Hestays quiet as the tears first well up, but once he’s actually crying, he hideshis face as best he can against his hands or his sleeves. He whimpers andwhines brokenly, sometimes in English and sometimes in German, but he slursthem together so much that no one can understand. That turns into shudderycough-sobs that he just can’t stop, no matter how hard he tries. He usuallycries longer than the others do because he starts to hyperventilate, whichupsets him even more.

Chase: Hebursts into wrenching, hopeless sobs, right from the gut. All he wants whenhe’s crying is to have someone hug him but if no one is there, he’ll wrap hisown arms around himself as tightly as he can. He doesn’t know what to do withhimself; he’s rooted to the spot, wherever he may be, and whenever he tries tomove, tries to do anything, he just sobs harder, until it sounds like he’sabout to throw up. When he comes down from it, he’s completely exhausted andwill usually just fall asleep right there.

Robbie: Hewails with the same force as Anti, but he can’t keep it up nearly as long. Oncehe’s done howling, he always seems like he’s graduated from sad to angry. LikeChase, he has no clue what to do with everything he’s feeling, so he grits histeeth and swings his limbs around wildly at whatever’s closest. If he happensto knock something over, he stops up short, realizes what he just did, and startskeening like he’s in agony. That goes on until he runs out of breath.

Jameson: Hekeeps it as unobvious and composed as he can, blinking a lot and ducking hishead as he fiddles with his hat and his pocket watch, anything to make it seemlike he’s completely fine, but eventually his face just crumples and he triesto make himself as small as possible, snuffling and wiping his nose against hissleeve. He doesn’t bother with his handkerchief because most of the time, he doesn’treach the point where he needs it and if he does, he’s too choked up toremember to use it.

Markimoos

Dark: He’sthe quietest of the group. He’ll fold his hands and press his forehead againstthem, hunching his shoulders a little, and the most indication he’ll give thathe’s crying is that his breath gets harsher and shakier. Sometimes he’ll make ahalf-stifled noise low in his throat, something that could have been a sob butwas never fully formed. This never lasts long either, so most people never realizethat he was crying in the first place. He clears his throat a lot afterward.

Wilford: Helegitimately doesn’t realize he’s crying until the sobs start; he sounds almostlike he’s hiccupping and he tries, he tries sohard to smile because of how funny it sounds…Almost immediately they changeinto long, harsh cries as if he’s in physical pain. If he’s really hurting, theforce of them knocks him over. He’ll crouch or go down onto hands and knees,caterwauling all the while, as if someone’s slowly killing him.

The Host: Hestiffens, shudders, and rakes his hands through his hair, letting loose anunearthly howl that makes anyone in earshot freeze. That turns into uglysobbing. His blood-tears are such a dark red that they’re almost brown and theysoak through his bandages in a matter of minutes. By the time he stops, thebandages are dripping from the edges and he’s an absolute mess: blood in his nose and his mouth and his hair, on his face,hands, shirt…He looks like he’s been bled within an inch of his life.

Dr.Iplier: Like Dark, it isn’t very obvious that he’s crying. He breathesvery shallowly, swallows a lot, and slumps very low in his chair, pulling hishead mirror off and rubbing his hands up and down his arms to keep himself calm.Sometimes he’ll snuffle and gulp over and over because it’s the only way ofholding himself together. If he starts to lose containment, he’ll press hishands over his mouth and muffle the sobs as best he can.

Google: Hepanics because he hates showingweakness. His systems will start getting overtaxed: his fans start to buzz andhis G emblem will start flickering wildly between all sorts of colors. He’ll stutter for words, try to explain itall away, and end up glitching himself to the point where he freezes. He stayscompletely still, his eyes glazing over and then welling up with coolant, andhe doesn’t make any sound except tiny, desperate little wheezes that no one canhear unless they get really close.

Bing: He takesoff his sunglasses and rubs at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger,half-laughing because he thinks he’s being ridiculous, that androids shouldn’tcry, that all of it will pass. He tries to make jokes to distract himself, butit never works. Then he tries to remind himself that he can’t be any moreridiculous than Google and finds the nearest chair, curling into it andpressing his forehead against his knees. He trembles, rattles, and whimpers, anddoes his best to be discreet about it, but it’s fairly obvious what’shappening.

Yandere: Hegets absolutely hysterical, beyond any chance of calming down. He acts like acombination of a toddler and a teenager, part of him wants comfort and anotherpart of him wants to run and slam his door. He does a lot with his hands whenhe’s crying, rubbing at his eyes, clutching at his uniform and his skirt andhis hair, reaching out for something to hold onto for balance or just wavingthem around uselessly. If he doesn’t sit in time, he’ll stumble blindly aroundlike he’s drunk and usually ends up falling.

Bim: Heswears a lot when he’s trying to hold it together, but the harsh front neverlasts long. He starts breathing a lot deeper and faster and blinks hard,fiddling almost frantically with his suit—jerking his jacket straight, pulling onhis tie, scuffing his shoes against the floor. Sooner or later his deepbreathing exercises turn into helpless, distressed kitten-mewls. He’ll leanagainst the nearest flat surface and hide his face against his forearm, cryingas softly as he can.

SilverShepherd: He bawls, abruptly and childishly, and hates himself for it, but hecan’t help it. As seen in his video, he’ll curl up in the nearest empty corner,sobbing brokenly and holding his hands over his aching chest. He cries with theforce of his entire body and it takes a lot out of him, but it doesn’t takelong for him to run out of tears. He stays where he is, shuddering andwhimpering occasionally until he can muster the strength to get back up.

Edgar: Allof his energy and enthusiasm gets sapped out. He sniffles and shifts his weightback and forth, fiddling with his suspenders, clearing his throat, and “coughing”a lot. He’ll mutter excuses for his sudden change in behavior and then leavethe room as quickly as he can. Once he finds some privacy, he’ll gasp and groanand hiss through his teeth as the tears spill, feeling like he’s humiliatinghimself. He usually forgets to take off his glasses beforehand, so they alwaysneed a thorough cleaning afterward.

King of theSquirrels: He chokes up incredibly quickly; he can’t speak coherently, so hejust whines instead, pulling his furs and cloak as tightly around himself aspossible. He completely withdraws, sinking into them for comfort and rubbinghis face against them, not even caring if he gets peanut butter on them, and assoon as he’s sure no one can see his face, he sobs as hard as he can. Thoughts keepplaying in his head that he’s a failure as a king, but he’s usually able totalk himself down. “The tears will make my subjects’ meal a bit saltier today.”

Jim andJim: The brothers cry very differently. Cameraman Jim is almost completelysilent; the only sounds are muffled sniffs or low, strangled whines because he getstoo choked up to even communicate what he’s feeling. Reporter Jim, on the otherhand, gets hysterical—long, wheezing gasps that lead to panicky, disjointed babblingwhich eventually just dissolve into broken, blubbery moans. Reporter Jim takesa lot longer to calm down than Cameraman Jim does, but once one starts, theother follows and it takes a whilebefore either of them can feel like themselves again.

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nowthenlove-blog · 6 years

Text

No. 5: Beers, Beets and Baby Van McCann

summary: Eighteen year old Van meets stubborn y/n in a bar and his kindness breaks through to you just a little. How come you only ever bump into him with a drink in hand?

a/n: Yes, yes that is an office reference. word count: 2000 words

My Masterlist is here!

.....

You called every single person you could think of and turns out, not many people want to get heavy drunk on a Tuesday night. Fair enough, most of your friends had 9 - 5's and the ones that didn't were busy. That wasn't going to stop you though, you had decided you were getting a drink, and you were getting that drink.

You were only recently eighteen, meaning you no longer had to linger at a table whilst your friends bought you drinks. Finally, you could get them yourself. Tonight you chose beer. It felt weird to drink cocktails by yourself, cocktails are drink with friends in your mind. Maybe that was just from your past experiences. Either way, beer was a comfortable choice.

'Drinking alone love?'

You turned around expecting some creepy middle aged man who had spotted you by yourself and no doubt thought that if he bought you a couple drinks he could cop a feel. You turned around ready to tell him where to shove it. You were wrong.

It was a man, but barely, he looked a similar age to you, but more importantly he looked sweet. He had a beer in hand and was looking at you eagerly in response.

'Er, yeah. You're welcome to join if you want?' You weren't worried about inviting him to sit down, the boy looked less creepy and more lost puppy. He took the stool next to you placing his drink down onto the bar spilling a little.

'Oh shit,' he was about to wipe the mess up with his sleeve but you stopped him, instead handing him a napkin from the side. 'Thanks love, bit clumsy sometimes.' His hair was fluffy and his clothes were all black, ripped jeans clung to his skinny legs and a shiny necklace drew your attention. He noticed you looking at it.

'Like it? It was a gift for my 18th birthday, never take it off. I'm Van by the way.' The way he smiled at you reinforced your feelings of comfort around him.

'Y/n, it was a good present idea, something you'll have forever you know, my mum did that. Not a necklace, but still.'

'What did she get you?'

'A guitar, I already had one, but this ones so much better.'

'You play? No way! I'm in a band, we're not big yet but we're gonna get there soon. I can just feel it.'

This was how the night went on, more and more drinks were consumed, you even managed to convince Van to do a couple shots with you. You could feel the alcohol starting to hit you, Van said he felt it too, but he did not slow down.

You didn't leave until not long after one, helping Van out into the night, making it only to the end of the street before Van wanted to stop.

'Need a cig, need a- need a cig.' His words were beginning to become altered by the alcohol, coming out a little jumbled. You had to help him light one and stole one to have yourself. As you stood and smoked, Van chatted, somewhere along the way asking for your number, 'In case he ever needed a drinking buddy'.

Y'know darlin', I think you- you're an angel, are you an angel? Think you fell from heaven.' The boy was sweet, you knew he had a soft thing for you, but it took for him to be almost drunk to even make an attempt at flirting.

'You're right Van, I am an angel, probably important for you to bear in mind that so was Lucifer though.'

He laughed. 'Lucifer, good cat name.'

'You know that's the name of the devil right?'

'Oh shit yeah, bad cat name.'

'Very bad. Here listen, where do you live? Is it walking distance or am I calling you a taxi?' You could tell your question made him think.

'Could walk it, need to take you back first, isn't that the right thing to do? Boy walks girl home?'

'No offence Van but I worry that you'd never make it home without me, find you tomorrow in some gutter.'

As you started to walk back you were beginning to wonder whether or not it had been smart to believe Van about his home being in walking distance. Drunk people are not always right. The fresh air was beginning to somewhat sober Van up, but he was still partially intoxicated.

He was holding your hand and swinging your arm, talking way too loud but nonetheless making you laugh. 'Think me and you are connected. Like tonight was fate or something'.

'Yeah? You believe in all that Van? Figures.' Van then burst into conversation about fate and soulmates and how there is no such thing as a coincidence. Lucky for you it wasn't too much further to Van's home, you walked him all the way to the door, the last thing you wanted was for him to trip and fall now. He stopped and looked at you, you were half expecting a speech from him about tonight and you. But he didn't, he stayed quiet looking at you for a second before kissing you softly. He pulled away after a second and went silent once again. It was your turn, you leaned up and kissed him again, lasting only a second more before pulling away.

'Night Y/n.' You watched him stumble inside and left him to it, turning back down the street and beginning to make your way home. .....

You had hoped that by the next day you would've had a text from Van, just one message, but nothing. You worried that he didn't want to see you again, or worse he couldn't remember last night at all. That he drank so much, he forgot you even existed.

You couldn't lie you were a little mad, you really enjoyed last night. It was fun to have him to drink with, and in all honesty you were hoping for it to happen again. You'd get it over though. The soft boy in the dirty bar would only be a vague memory in no time.

A little less than a week had past since that night and you found yourself thinking of him more and more, he however clearly hadn't thought of you once as your phone was still lacking his message. You needed to get him out of your head, at the very least get hung up on somebody else. Somebody it wasn't as painful to think about. Somebody a little less Van.

A party was what you needed. Surrounded by friends, alcohol and music was the best way to distract yourself; it was the only way you knew how to distract yourself. It didn't take much to convince people to come, Saturday night, your place, free alcohol. Your parties were beginning to get a bit of reputation so it was a rare event for someone to turn an invitation down.

Like usual your party had grown quickly out of hand, as people began to arrive, you realised you recognised less and less of these people. You didn't mind though, many of them came bearing food and drinks. You cared even less after a couple of drinks were in you, jello shots did the world of good.

You found yourself talking to two lads about who would win in a fight, a polar bear, or the statue of liberty. They were clearly stoned, but they were funny. They couldn't come to an agreement on who would win, them both arguing their cases pretty well.

'Hang on,' the tall one said, he reached behind you and tapped his friend, 'Hey Van what'd'you think?'

Van.

How many people in the world could be called that?

You turned around and there he was, the soft boy from the dirty bar. A lot less tipsy than the last time you saw him. His eyes were glazed, no doubt stoned, but he recognised you.

'Y/n.'

'Listen lads, I'll be back, Y/n, hi. Outside?' He was watching your every move and released a sigh of relief when you agreed.

It was much colder than the last time you were outside with him, the wind was biting at your skin.

'You didn't reply to any of my messages.' You couldn't believe him, who lies about texting someone?

'Maybe that's because you didn't text me, not bothered though mate, just shared a couple drinks together that's all.' He looked hurt by what you said, but also confused.

He showed you his phone, and all the messages he had sent to a number with your name. You showed him yours, and the lack of texts you has recieved. 'Shit,' you looked at his phone again, your number was wrong. Guess you really can't trust drunk people to be right.

'I thought there was chemistry y/n, I panicked a bit when you didn't text me back. I mean now I know and everything- but.' You cut him off, you could feel your buzz from the alcohol beginning to fade.

'Listen, no harm. I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a party going on inside and I had plans to get shitfaced. What'd'ya say? Care to join me?' This time you both got drunk, much more drunk, so much so, you had to step outside to get fresh air; prevent yourself from throwing up. Van was laughing at your current state. Hunched on the floor, clinging to the drainpipe, feeling as if someone was shaking the world like a snow-globe.

'I bet- I- I bet we'd get on sober y'know?' Van words took a moment to sink in, your brain was working much slower than normal.

'Think we would too, Fuck listen, it's no good Van. I need to sleep this off.' Van helped you up, himself struggling to say straight. Luckily for you as the party continued, your bedroom had remained empty. Van locked your room door once you were inside. Privacy. Your drunk logic was that it would be too much to share a bed with Van, but he needed some place to stay. You decided it would be okay if you slept at the other end, feet at the headboard. Then it wouldn't be as bad.

The sun woke you, glaring through the curtains. You felt rough. Painfully rough, but sober. Van was still by your side, fast asleep. You took this time to brush your teeth, getting a spare toothbrush out for Van, you knew he'd need one. You splashed water on your face, a half-hearted attempt to remove your makeup and ran a brush through your hair. You looked more alive already.

'Van', 'Van', 'VAN', you shook his shoulder forcefully, enough to eventually wake him up. You waved a green plastic toothbrush in front of him, which he took before covering his eyes from the light.

'I know, brutal right.' He laughed, 'Fancy getting breakfast somewhere?' .....

Van ordered a fry up and tea, yourself bacon pancakes and a hot chocolate. You were starving. Both of you were trying to piece together last nights events. You got most in the end, there was a couple black spots in the timeline but overall you did good.

'Van, are you sober?' he looked at you confused, but nodded all the same.

'Finger on nose.'

'What?'

'Finger on nose!' He followed your instruction and put his finger on his nose, you did the same, both of you not missing.

'I think we're both sober,' you said. It took a couple moments for Van to catch up.

'Yeah, yeah we are. Hello.'

'Hello,' you giggled, Van did too. 'Look at us, I guess we can get along sober.' 'I'm glad, maybe it's a sign. We should do this more. Sober, I mean. Well we can drink sometimes. I just don't want to forget any time spent with you. I like you too much.'

'I like you too.'

.....

Have a request? Send it in here! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is always appreciated!

#catb #catfish and the bottlemen #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #van mccann #van mccann fanfic #van mccann fanfiction #van mccann imagine

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mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 7 years

Note

Can we see something of that AU you came up with a while back?

Whyyyyyyy do you doooooo this? (I realize I originally said Honey was a TA, so sorry I changed it but I found it funny)Here are some quick AU snippets: ——-

Anna took in the apartment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she nervously stepped over the threshold. Charles didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just continued forward into the darkness.

He was cooking something, she recognized the scent of something spice-filled from the kitchen area. A slow cooker was on the countertop bubbling away, steam rising from the top. Had he told her he preferred to cook over ordering in? She couldn’t remember, she’d just met him a few days before. When she told her roommate that she was going to his place for dinner, her roommate had thought she was insane.

She jumped forward when the door slammed behind her. That, Charles noted, and he reappeared from behind the little piece of wall separating the kitchen and living room. The silence that settled over them was unnerving so she hastily glanced behind him.

“Oh…” He turned his head to see what she was looking at when her eyes widened. Charles didn’t often have company, save for his brother when he visited, and he sometimes forgot his furnishings were a little expensive for the average college student. “I don’t really watch TV…there’s Netflix on it if you want something–”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” She said quietly, wondering just what she had gotten herself into. Clearly, compared to the boy in front of her, she was from the wrong side of the tracks.

———-

“Hey, Mercy!” A familiar voice called behind me as I exited my dorm. Kyle had his leather messenger bag slung across his body which meant he was likely on his way to class. He seemed to always be on his way to class, but it made sense given he was in a three-and-three program for law. My mother had pushed at me to try for the program, but I lacked the interest. “Warren and I were going to have a movie night tonight. He’s going to grab drinks and pizza on his way back from work and anything else if you want. I think the exchange student might join us this time.”

When he added the last bit, it was with a huge grin. He had been trying for weeks to get he and Warren’s new suitemate out of his bedroom. The previous occupant of the single in their dorm had chosen to study abroad for the full year. The newcomer, Ben, had mostly kept to himself outside of apparently being very aggressive with his new roommates. While it aggravated Kyle initially, Warren hadn’t been too phased. It wasn’t the sexuality of his roommates that put the newcomer off, it was just about everything else.

That much had been made clear since Ben had slowly begun to open up and venture into the world with us. Two weeks prior, I had spotted him at a party. He’d been anxious and, we’d later found out, on something. Since then, we’d secretly discovered his irritability had only somewhat to do with his personality and another somewhat to do with him not having connections enough in the US to find drugs.

I, myself, wasn’t interested in collecting drug addicted friends, but if life had taught me one thing it was how to help people.

“You should bring cookies.” Kyle said suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I frowned at him, I’d just brought him cookies yesterday when a classmate and I had baked. “In case Adam comes by.” He lowered his voice to avoid others passing us listening in. “He’s listed as the RA on duty today. You know he has a total soft spot for you.”

How the hell Adam Hauptman balanced ROTC and Residential Life would always be a mystery. I think some of it had to do with the fact he knew someone on the board of directors, even in passing, and they gave him some extra help with housing.

Adam was our RA for the floor we were on. All RAs had singles, but it was unusual for their roommate to, even though Darryl did. Warren had originally dormed with them, but when he chose to go into the housing draw with Kyle, Adam pulled strings to get them on the same floor.

Supposedly, they were the same strings he pulled to get Darryl’s girlfriend on the floor, albeit with apparently random roommates because I’d gotten stuck with them. Auriele realistically wasn’t bad, and she honestly spent most of her time in Darryl’s room anyhow so our bedroom would have been mine if Honey–one of our other three roommates–hadn’t unofficially moved into it. Apparently she had enough of her double. Mary Jo was, I’d admit, a little much to deal with sometimes. Notoriously, she partied too hard. Honey made a joke once that it was because she forgot she was a girl and couldn’t handle half the liquor her friends could.

The last roommate and only intended single we had was Christy.

Had I meant it as a personal attack last semester when I cared more for Adam’s feelings over their breakup and therefore brought him cookies?

Absolutely not.

Was I ok with the fact she took it that way?

It was kind of funny.

I hardly knew her, though, and I hadn’t honestly realized she had taken the breakup hard else maybe she would have gotten a plate. She seemed perfectly happy with the way things had turned out, given she was supposedly seen with her current law school boyfriend nearly immediately following.

“Christy would be suspicious if I used the oven more than one day in a row.” I grinned. Kyle shoved me playfully before his eyes glazed over a little. “Stop drooling, Kyle, you’re drawing attention.” ROTC was out on the green this morning like usual.

“Adam is looking at you.”

“Keep walking.” I hissed, speeding up and tugging him with me. His laughter almost certainly was loud enough to carry and it only served to make me blush.

——–

“You brought a girl you just met to a funeral?” Samuel whispered lowly to his brother. Charles elbowed his older sibling stealthily. “Charles, I’m sorry I apparently taught you nothing of dating but this isn’t how you do it.”

Their father quieted them, two adult men, with a stern glance. It was his friend who had passed, and long before his time. It seemed to happen a lot, though. The man’s heart had gone, likely related to the stress of his job or the drugs he’d done in his youth.

“Who is that?” The girl beside Samuel’s brother, Anna he had been told, asked. She nodded to a woman who had appeared, standing beside a new sports, car looking impatient.

“Wicked witch of the west.” Charles snickered at his older brother’s joke. As if she knew they were referencing her, the woman tilted her sunglasses down. “Step-mom, evil as they come.”

Anna looked taken aback and Samuel frowned. It wasn’t that difficult to recognize there were few physical similarities between him and his brother. Samuel’s own mother had passed away when he was six and Charles’ mother had come around only a year after. When Samuel was eight, he had a baby brother who’s mother had unnervingly passed in childbirth.

Charles was five before their father remarried.

When his younger brother didn’t answer his new friend’s questioning gaze, Samuel sighed.

“My mother passed when I was young, Charles’ died in childbirth. Our father is probably the only if his friends to never divorce but the wife who lasted longest was the biggest nightmare.” Charles snorted and Samuel rolled his eyes. “He thinks she’s in it for the money.”

Anna seemed to contemplate that.

“And you?”

“No, she cares for him in her own, twisted way I think.” Samuel watched as the woman began to tap her foot. He hadn’t understood her reasoning in not going to the funeral. She’d complained something about the types of people their da’ hung out with, but it simply seemed childish to him.

Anna nodded and leaned closer to Charles.

#fanfic #AU

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rangerdrabbles · 4 years

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Closet Dancer 2

This was supposed to be a one shot, but I got inspired again. Billie x Cristian. Suggestive. Attempted noncon.

They’d been dancing for a while now, on the dance team’s off nights or sometimes even after everyone had gone. The banter had gone on, and although Billie seemed to be attracted, she wasn’t entirely biting. Cristian would have normally found himself impatient by now but she was funny. The sass in her amused him, and she wondered if half the things she said were true-especially about what she may or may not have done in the bedroom. He doubted it, but Billie was full of surprises.

“How did you get into dancing anyway?” He asked her that night. “And why? Just curious. Seems like you’d be at home with your chemistry set or something.” He grinned.

“Don’t grin at me like that, pretty boy-there’s nothing wrong with having a chemistry set. But to answer your question, my friend Zack is a dancer. He invented his own dancing style called hip hop kido. I kind of sat in on some of the classes. Behind some bushes.”

“Bushes? Billie, for crying out loud, that’s not how you dance. What we’re doing now, this is dancing. Though you could stand to loosen up a little bit-”

“You want to hear the rest of the explanation or put the moves on me, pretty boy?” Billie replied, catching his hand just before it went a little too far up her shirt.

“Both?” He couldn’t help grinning and laughing.

“Gee, I wonder which head you think with,” Billie drawled.

“Hey, just because I happen to enjoy a few pleasures-”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you do, pretty boy. I was pretty shy back then. Sometimes I still am. I was the nerdy kid the bullies shoved into lockers and sometimes I wondered if I’d suffocate in there.”

“Did you mention you had friends? What kind of friends let you get tossed into lockers?”

“My friends could only follow and fish me out so many times, pretty boy,” Billie drawled. “Anyway, I invented a reverse locker opener, so that takes care of that.”

“Are you ever going to call me by my name? And you invented a what?” He couldn’t help laughing.

“A reverse locker opener. Perfect for the nerd who gets shoved into a locker by someone twice their size. Still haven’t come up with something for being tossed into a trash can, though.”

He laughed more, and said, “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, pretty boy. Anyway, I started dancing because I was tired of being just one thing. The world always wants to see us as one thing-in my case, the nerd. Not that there’s anything wrong with being smart or being a dancer or whatever, but we shouldn’t have to be seen as just one thing.”

“That’s the way the world is though-might as well just find our one thing and accept it,” Cristian murmured. “Unless you think dancing’s like something you study in a book, because it’s not. You can’t master it by reading a book or doing a science project. You can’t master everything.”

Billie snorted. “Please, pretty boy. You think this is all about me mastering dancing like a game of chess? Have you even listened to a word I told you? I just don’t want to be one thing. I’m tired of just being the little nerd you shove into things. The nerd bites back, and the nerd likes to do other things. But the nerd also likes to talk about science and not have someone’s eyes glaze over when-well, never mind. I should go.”

“Oh come on, it’s still early!” He didn’t quite get why she was so upset all of a sudden, but he had understood what she’d been trying to say about being more than just one thing. Not that he’d admit that, of course. But if she really did want to dance, she’d have to learn through more than just hiding in the bushes.

Billie ignored him, and gathered her things and left. Cristian was wrong-it actually wasn’t all that early. It was later than usual, and there were only a couple of cars left in the lot. Billie’s was in the shop, so unfortunately she’d be walking home in the dark.

There were, however, other people in the dark, and a pair of them decided to sneak up behind Billie and try to have a little fun-the fun that Cristian had been thinking about more than once. Billie was at least a head shorter than the both of her assailants-who she couldn’t see with the dim streetlamps-and was taken by surprise.

She had had some self defense training, but the two were both bigger and stronger. Clothes were torn, and things might have even more sour had she not found her mace and itching powder. The itching powder could seep through clothing and was far more than a mere childish prank-it could cause severe itching, burning, and a rash that could last a week or more. It was the itching powder that caused them to stumble away-that, and the sound of Cristian’s footsteps.

He’d just happened to be walking out to his car and had missed the entire thing. One look at the two retreating figures and Billie’s torn clothes and he could guess what happened. He couldn’t help snorting; why take when you could eventually wear them down one way or the other? Still, a small part of him was angry for some reason. He wasn’t all that attached to the girl, but she did amuse him. Her company wasn’t all that bad.

“Oh, it’s you, pretty boy.” Billie looked up at him and rubbed her lip, which apparently had been split in the scuffle. “Mind helping me up so I can walk home?”

“You want to walk home after this? I thought you were a genius.” Cristian shook his head. “I’m taking you to my place to clean you up.” And before she could protest, he was scooping her up and putting her in his car.

“Put me down, pretty boy, I’m just fine-” She was flailing feebly.

“Easy there, Scrappy Doo.” He laughed. “You’re not fine, and you’re lucky they didn’t do worse. You should’ve let me walk you out or something.”

“I had itching powder.”

“Itching powder...you’ve gotta be kidding me. Billie Jean Cranston I swear to God-”

“I don’t know how you found out my full name, but if you call me Billie Jean one more time pretty boy, I swear I’ll-” She fell silent. suddenly snoring. Apparently the effort had tired her out.

Cristian took one look at her, laughed softly, and began the drive home.

#east los high #billie #cristian camacho #implied at. noncon

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recentanimenews · 5 years

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THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH Goes Matchmaking in Episodes 190-196!

Welcome to THE GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH! I’m Kara Dennison, and I’ll be your host this week as we run through all 220 episodes of the original Naruto anime adaptation like an army of Kyles through Area 51. In last week's episodes 183-189, we left behind the Hidden Star Village and took on the Peddlers Escort Mission. This week, episodes 190-196 close out our journey to the Land of Greens and then take us on a series of one-shot and two-episode missions.

I figured after Joseph Luster nearly tapped out last week that things had to start looking up... but boy, it's been a mixed bag. Out of the frying pan that was the Hidden Greens Village and straight into the fire that was "Chubby Paradise" - probably my least favorite episode to date. And judging by this week's answers, I wasn't alone. Fortunately, that was balanced out with some fun: Hinata awesomeness, a hungry hungry house, and Tsunade being... well... peak Tsunade. Plus, we get the return of Rock Lee and Might Guy!

So, as we approach the threshhold of the final two dozen episodes, let's see what the team thought of this batch of filler!

We’ve seen some pretty nasty jutsu before, but between Jiga’s suffocating magnetized sand and Renga’s “ants under a magnifying glass” treatment, the Janin brought (and suffered) some brutal tactics. What Naruto death or attack has freaked you out the most so far… or are you too stone cold for that kind of thing?

Paul: “Death by Wooly Willy into giant sand pit” is a pretty bad way to go, but honestly the technique that freaks me out the most is the Shinigami one that the Third Hokage uses to seal Orochimaru's arms. If that Jutsu lands properly, then both the wielder and the victim are banished to an eternal hell-realm where their spirits remained locked in combat forever, and that's some messed up metaphysics.

Kevin: A lot of the more shocking deaths and techniques probably would’ve been more effective if I hadn’t seen the show before. That being said, I’d probably choose the Sound Ninja that used the gauntlets and had half his face wrapped up (okay look, the death and character design made an impression. The actual character, not so much). We didn’t see any detail, but we see his terror, we get a silhouette of what Gaara can become (if I’m remembering the episode correctly), and then he’s just gone. There’s so little fanfare that we don’t even hear about it beyond Sasuke mentioning that his opponent didn’t show up for some reason.

Joseph: I’d say it’s that Mangekyou Sharingan move Itachi used on Sasuke and others to essentially lock them in an eternal loop of reliving their own personal tragedies.

Noelle: Same like Kevin, I’ve seen the show before, so I know what’s coming. I don’t think I remember being particularly creeped out by any of the deaths, because none of them were major characters. More than the gruesome factor of character deaths, I react to the emotional weight of them so no, I haven’t really felt anything.

Danni: Getting caught by Itachi’s Mangekyou Sharingan seems like a pretty raw deal, to say the least.

Jared: Mangekyou Sharingan would definitely rank up there in terms of just pure psychological horror. Also any bug attacks. Just yuck.

David: Honestly Gaara’s entire skill set gives me the creeps, just because of how intensely it would set off any sort of claustrophobia (before crushing me to death of course).

Carolyn: I guess I just watch too much horror to really be affected like that. From a writing/storytelling standpoint, the most emotional death was the Third Hokage’s. Every character ended up dealing with his death in their own way (including Orochimaru), while also being a major point of growth for Naruto.

So, that whole Princess Fuku scenario… I’m going to save us all a bunch of time and ask if there’s anything you dislike about Naruto that didn’t make its way into this episode.

Paul: Fat-phobia? Check. Weird assumptions and gender-based hang-ups? Check. Naruto turning into a piss-sprinkler? Check. Jiraiya, even though he's not physically present, still managing to encourage Naruto’s questionable behavior? Check. With the free space in the middle, I think I've got a “bingo” here...

Kevin: Fart jokes, I guess? In looking for something, anything, good in this episode, a few of Ino’s reactions are so over the top and abrupt that I chuckled a little. But even those were humorous more due to the sudden tonal shift, and the more you remember what caused them, the less funny they become.

Joseph: It’s a bad episode through and through. I really disliked the previous arc, though, so I was fine with just letting my eyes glaze over at the screen for this one.

Noelle: I don’t even know where to begin, admittedly. I don’t think I liked a single moment of this one. It’s just... bad, and not worth a watch at all.

Danni: At least there were no dead ghost moms?

Jared: I guess there’s no Jiraiya accosting sexy jutsu Naruto, which is probably one of the few bad things this show does that it didn’t somehow include here.

David: Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the writers' room as they were checking off the list of obnoxious things to include here. Really feels purposeful at this point.

Carolyn: Sasuke.

Up next is yet another “outsider infiltrates with disastrous results” episode, once again with the cast unsuspecting of a disguise in play. If you were a ninja, how could a friend or family member verify you’re you, and not an enemy ninja using a Disguise Jutsu?

Paul: My family would be able to identify the real me by inquiring about embarrassing childhood moments that – even though I'm now 37 years of age – they still bring up on the regular for some reason. My friends would be doomed, though, since they don't know the hidden meaning of the phrase “Baby Brontosaurus." They're not asking. I'm not telling.

Kevin: Until this episode, I would’ve thought that a sparring match would be pretty definitive evidence in a world where practically every named character can fight and knows magical martial arts. But apparently everyone decided to leave their brains at home for a few episodes.

Joseph: They’d probably just ask what my favorite Nightmare on Elm Street movie is and if I ever gave the same answer twice they’d know it’s not really me.

Noelle: Beyond some personal information that I rarely disclose, getting me to start monologuing about doujin and the discrepancy between US self-pub and JP/KR self-pub is a good way to start.

Danni: They’d play either of the Love Live! Sunshine!! ending themes for me and if I did not immediately start crying, they would Hurricane Leaf Kick my doppleganger to death.

Jared: Probably something similar to Danni’s with it being a Sunshine!! question or asking if Garou: Mark of the Wolves has one of the pettiest stories in all of video games.

David: Just start asking me about my hyper-specific opinions on the Fate franchise as a whole, and you’ll know it’s me when it goes on far longer than you were hoping.

Carolyn: If they asked which Stephen King books I own and the imposter actually knew all of them without pulling up a Google doc, they are lying. Also probably anything involving Buffy.

And we’re back to another ghost episode… so yeah, we’re to the point when recycling concepts is much more the rule than the exception, and there’s not long left for that to change. To that end, is there a filler episode whose concept you’d like to see revisited, and how would you improve on it?

Paul: As others have already mentioned, I'd like to see more exploration of the shinobi-inspired offshoots of ordinary jobs, like the ninja chefs and the ninja postal delivery service. In the former case, a straightforward cooking contest without the kidnapping angle would work, and in the latter case, anything that didn't involve Jiraiya's erotic literature preventing a war between rival nations would be a step up. I'd also love an entire episode that's just everyone taking their pets and summons to the ninja veterinarian for check-ups.

Kevin: Two options: One, Naruto as a mentor, maybe in charge of Konohamaru’s group, maybe not, but take the episode to show that he’s changed a little and has a bit more patience now. Two, back to the idea of the Ninja Chefs and Ninja Postmen. Just take normal jobs, slap Ninja on the front, and make a fun episode from it. It may not make any sense, but at least it could be entertaining.

Joseph: I’d love to see literally anyone else but the main crew we’ve been following. Show me what Gamabunta is up to in the land of the big frogs or something.

Noelle: Honestly, thirding the ‘normal jobs, but with ninja’ idea. We get a good enough grasp on the world, not down to the details, but enough that we can have a general idea of how things work. I’m the type of person that likes looking at small details, so show me the gears of this world, and how people function on the day to day (with ninja superpowers).

Danni: Anything involving Might Guy, honestly. I’ve said it multiple times and it’s because I believe it: give me a day-in-the-life episode of Guy and Kakashi as roommates. I want to see them fight over who has to do the dishes.

Jared: Definitely weird ninja jobs that haven’t been discussed yet or maybe something as simple as a non-Naruto focused episode where we just get a look at other characters doing either their routine or how they handle things when Naruto isn’t around.

David: More food episodes, this time without the baggage of an actual “threat”. I just want to see our cast cooking up food in ridiculous magic ninja ways!

Carolyn: My favorite filler episodes so far have been the Scooby-Doo ghost and the live-burial death cult. I’d be happy to explore the actual psychology and lore of the death cult.

We finish out with two episodes of Rock Lee goodness, this time with Lee and Guy beating the snot out of each other via chakra WiFi. Several of us expressed (understandable) concern about Guy’s mentoring style during the Chunin Exam. How do we feel about the sensei/student interaction a couple dozen episodes from the end?

Paul: I like the idea of Rock Lee and Might Guy clashing by proxy through Chakra-controlled practice dummies, and I enjoy how that situation resolves, but I'm ambivalent about Guy's tutoring style and Lee's ambitions. Even though they explicitly address the idea of over-training, and even though Lee ends up on crutches again this episode, I don't feel that Lee has internalized any lessons about not absolutely destroying himself on his quest to achieve ninja mastery through Taijutsu. I’d like to see him fight smarter, not harder.

Kevin: Honestly, Guy and Lee’s relationship may be one of the more complicated in the series. Sure, it’s as simple as “Lee follows after Guy like a puppy,” but that means that Lee is always driving himself far beyond his natural limits, and Guy encourages him pretty much the whole way, until Lee’s body gives out. It’s a self-destructive relationship for Lee, and Guy is enabling it while also genuinely trying to be a supportive figure, to the point that he gets Lee to accept a potentially lethal surgery by telling him that if Lee dies, they’ll die together. There’s a lot of darkness hiding behind the shining teeth and can-do attitudes. As for how I feel about it, I honestly would need to sit down and think for a while, and even then I’m not sure I could come up with a definitive answer.

Joseph: The whole ‘you die, I die’ thing still bugs me. I like where Guy is coming from but these filler episodes don’t do much to convince me he’s the best teacher ever. He may be the most supportive teacher ever, but it’s to a fault. Rock Lee is still great but honestly he’s too good for this show at this point.

Noelle: It’s honestly very complicated, because there is no clean-cut answer. The truth is that Lee does have to work twice as hard to stand up to his peers, because he naturally doesn’t have the talents that they do. Having someone who wholeheartedly supports him is pretty alluring, no matter how you look at it. At the same time, Guy is 100% enabling Lee to go past his limits in an unhealthy way, and that doesn’t really change here.

Danni: Ever since Lee miraculously recovered from his surgery in time to come to Naruto’s aid in the Sasuke Retrieval arc, I’ve kind of just accepted that subplot is entirely meaningless. Plus, at this point in the plot desert they’re clearly rehashing every single concept they’ve had so who cares?

Jared: Guy can be bad about allowing Lee to push past his limits in ways that he really shouldn’t, but at the same time, I think Lee would do that anyways as you’d really have to nail that into him that he shouldn’t. That’s pretty much what we saw here again. As some of the other’s have said, Guy is very supportive, but there’s a line between being supportive and being toxically supportive.

David: Unfortunately given Lee’s insistence, I really doubt there’s a realistic other option aside from someone convincing him that maybe he just isn’t meant to be a combat ninja, which maybe actually is the right answer?

Carolyn: Guy didn’t make Lee the way he is. Lee already had this tenacity and work ethic, Guy just helps it along by being supportive. And I still maintain that Jiraiya has done literally nothing for Naruto. So, as far as I’m concerned, Guy is far from the worst Sensei. Plus, Lee’s injuries don’t typically come from his training but in actual fights with abnormally powerful foes. You could also argue that the fact that he can actually walk and fight again at all is due to his drive, which Guy definitely helps to foster. I think their relationship is fine.

It’s probably a given what half of this answer will be, but for the sake of symmetry, what are your HIGH and LOW points of the week?

Paul: My high point is Tsunade attaching a pair of dummy arms to her overcoat so she can secretly drink sake when she’s supposed to be working, with an honorable mention going to the “ghost” episode which is actually about Naruto, Hinata, and Kiba encountering a “House Hunter” Mimic from Dungeons & Dragons. My low point is everything from the Princess Fuku episode. Fat people deserve to be romantic leads without being the butt of an endless series of lazy jokes.

Kevin: High – Tsunade entire setup before she sends out Tenten, Neji and Naruto to help Guy. She has fake arms to make it look like she’s actually doing work as she sneaks a cup of sake, and when she needs to make a team, she literally just has cards of the available genin and tries to form something half way workable for the few that are around. Low – I mean, is anyone NOT going to say the Princess Fuku episode? It was a 23 minute long fat joke that got maybe a chuckle out of me due to severe tonal shifts.

Joseph: My high was the living house episode. Look, sorry, I’m a simple man who’s a huge sucker for living houses. The low would have to be everything from the Greens arc. I’m just so tired of the bad Saturday morning action cartoon DiC side of Naruto. Don’t tease me with action and fights when it’s all so contrived, poorly animated, and laughably motivated.

Noelle: High point, the haunted house episode. As fun as actual supernatural stuff is, finding out that something is totally ridiculous instead is just as fun. Low point, if I ever have to think of the Princess Fuku episode again, it’ll be too soon.

Danni: My high point was easily when Hinata straight up killed a guy by burying him alive in his own jutsu without even batting an eye. She’s low-key cold-blooded when the chips are down. As for my low point, obviously it’s the Princess Fuku episode, even if it did give me lots of randomly inserted English and an evergreen line about not discriminating based on color.

Jared: High points would be Hinata getting a good bit of time to be super rad, the weird headshots Tsunade had of Lee, Tenten, Neji, and Naruto when she was doing her fake arms bit, Lee just randomly seeing a dojo challenge and thinking that’s a brilliant idea, flesh castle, and that ska ending. Low points would obviously be the Princess Fuku episode, end of the Land of Greens arc, and seeing multiple themes repeated that we’ve already seen in the filler.

David: Totally agree on the high point being Hinata being completely awesome this week (I put it down as something I was highly looking forward to last week and it didn’t disappoint.) The low point is of course Princess Fuku, but it probably deserves an award for being the lowest point of this entire run so far.

Carolyn: Yeah, how could the low be anything but that episode. Most specifically for me, Naruto being totally shocked that two people he considers heavy being in love as if that couldn’t possibly happen. And also … how old is Ino? Because … uh … High point: Rock Lee lives by his own rules! That’s not how medical science works, my dude. That line was hilarious.

COUNTERS:

Ramen: 3 bowls Hokage: 0 Clones: 22 + 1 uncountable scene

Total so far:

Ramen: 185 bowls, 13 cups Hokage: 62 Clones: 811

And that’s it for this week! Remember that you’re always welcome to watch along with the Rewatch, especially if you’ve never seen the original Naruto! Watch Naruto today!

Here’s our upcoming schedule:

-Next week, NOELLE OGAWA shows us the formation of the Konoha 11!

-On August 9, DANIEL DOCKERY returns to explore the mystery of Yakumo!

-Finally, NICOLE MEJIAS guides us through the end of the Gantetsu Escort Mission!

CATCH UP ON THE REWATCH!

Episodes 183-189: No Laughter Allowed!

Episodes 176-182: Reach for the Stars!

Episodes 169-175: Anko’s Backstory At Sea

Episodes 162-168: The Tale of the Phantom Samurai

Episodes 155-161: Quickfire Curry

Episodes 148-154: The Forest is Abuzz With Ninjas

Episodes 141-147: Mizuki Strikes Back!

Episodes 134-140: The Climactic Clash

Episodes 127-133: Naruto vs Sasuke

Episodes 120-126: The Sand Siblings Return

Episodes 113-119: Operation Rescue Sasuke

Episodes 106-112: Sasuke Goes Rogue

Episodes 99-105: Trouble in the Land of Tea

Episodes 92-98: Clash of the Sannin

Episodes 85-91: A Life-Changing Decision

Episodes 78-84: The Fall of a Legend

Episodes 71-77: Sands of Sorrow

Episodes 64-70: Crashing the Chunin Exam

Episodes 57-63: Family Feud

Episodes 50-56: Rock Lee Rally

Episodes 43-49: The Gate

Episodes 36-42: Through the Woods

Episodes 29-35: Sakura Unleashed

Episodes 22-28: Chunin Exams Kickoff

Episodes 15-21: Leaving the Land of Waves

Episodes 8-14: Beginners' Battle

Episodes 1-7: I'm Gonna Be the Hokage!

Thank you for joining us for the GREAT CRUNCHYROLL NARUTO REWATCH! Have a great weekend, and we'll see you all next time!

Have anything to say about our thoughts on Episodes 190-106? Let us know in the comments! Don't forget, we're also accepting questions and comments for next week, so don't be shy and feel free to ask away!

-----

Kara Dennison is a writer, editor, and interviewer with bylines at VRV, We Are Cult, Fanbyte, and many more. She is also the co-founder of Altrix Books and co-creator of the OEL light novel series Owl's Flower. Kara blogs at karadennison.com and tweets @RubyCosmos.

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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