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asukamood · 9 months

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Math (fmaa2)

Math

***

I have no idea if any of you were like, wondering what the Creepypasta Squad was up to in fmaa2 au, but I am not going to wait for answer before uploading this and give you the answer. If you are wondering why I am writing fluff now, it is for an apology to anyone who might have suffered due to me torturing Hacker so much these past days.

I will not stop.

But have a break still.

***

Warnings: M a t h, strong language

Ships: None

Synopsis: Well, if he could not help Bobby himself then he still had that one ace card up his sleeve.

Or rather, a bi card.

He was the opposite of asexual after all.

“HACKER!”

***

The sound of frantic scribbling echoed inside of Bobby’s otherwise silent room. It was quite late, the clock on the wall ticking in intervals of seconds. According to it, it was already 8 P.M.

While his pen was indeed moving frantically, it did not write answers but incoherent gribbles instead, hoping that this bundle of disconnected and bent lines would somehow give him the answer to the math problem nagging him on his notebook.

And perhaps he hoped to fool the teacher into thinking he did his homework by mistaking these unintelligent scribblings for answers.

He could be staring holes into it as much as he wanted, the questions did not magically change to a simpler one because why would they? He hated math because he never understood what the questions were even about.

At the third line he completed tainting a faded grey with his pencil, he let out a loud growl as he threw his pen at the wall. “FUCKING HOMEWORK!” God, he wanted to go play Minecraft so bad, but Randy said he was not allowed to before he had finished doing everything.

He had been stuck on the same problem for hours now!

And there were more on that page!

An angry frustrated groan left him as he wiped his hand across the desk, knocking his pencil and notebook off. The items crashed onto the floor unceremoniously as Bobby buried his head in his hands, cursing out everyone who thought making school the way it is was a clever idea.

Randy soon came knocking at the door after hearing all the commotion. “Son? Is everything okay in there?” came his muddled voice from the door.

“No!” He replied, frustrated. “I hate school! And I hate homework! They suck Randy!”

The latter took that as a positive response to enter if the way his door swung open to reveal a worried Randy was any indication of that. Or he simply did not care. But it was Randy, he always cared so he doubted that was the case. That was why he liked him after all.

The latter came into the room and bent over to pick up the scattered books on the floor to put them back onto the desk. He opened them back where Bobby left them, and he groaned at seeing the same problems appear in his sight. The interrogation marks tempting him to run the tip of his pen through them so he would not have to see them anymore.

“What is the problem, son? Are the problems taking too long for you to figure out?” he asked as he patted the angry teenager on the head, ruffling his hair in the process. Normally, he would have thrown a tantrum about that, saying things about how it would mess up his hair but right now? He was too distracted by his pure flames of hatred aimed toward the educational system to care about his haircut all that much.

“No, they’re simply not coming to me at all.” He crossed his arms around his chest and stubbornly refused to even spare a glance at the pages. “I can’t understand what I’m supposed to do, and it sucks.” He pouted. “I wanna play Minecraft...”

Randy stared at the book and scratched his neck, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read whatever was written in it. He had never gone to school and much less studied whatever kind of satanic writing those numbers were. While he did learn to read eventually, math was something he was hopeless with.

He was much more of a practical man than a literary one.

Well, if he couldn’t help Bobby himself then he still had that one ace card up his sleeve.

Or rather, a bi card.

He was the opposite of asexual after all.

“HACKER!” He hoped he shouted loud enough for the latter to hear, not wanting to bother the neighbors from screaming too loud, I think those suffered enough from Hacker’s and Bobby’s endless bickering on the balcony of their house.

Thankfully, Hope didn’t let him down this time.

“Yeah?” Soon came a muffled answer from a room from afar.

“Could you come here, please?” There was the creak of a door and footsteps before Hacker’s face appeared at the end of the doorway.

“Yes, what is it?” Randy motioned for him to step closer, and he did, his eyes falling onto the notebook in front of Bobby. He raised his eyebrow.

“Homework again?” Randy gave him a sheepish smile as he nodded while Bobby growled under his breath, his arms tightening around himself.

“Math homework.” Bobby was quick to add before Hacker had the time to make fun of him for needing help with school. The latter blinked before groaning too as he mumbled something about it being the most difficult subject to explain.

He sighed before walking up to Bobby’s side and looking at the questions he had to answer. He reached out behind him, feeling for the additional chair Bobby keeps in his room in case those emergency lessons had to take place before bringing said spinning chair to him when he got a hold of it. He sat down like the drama queen he was, frowning at the notebook.

Seeing that Hacker had probably the situation under control, Randy backed away from the soon to be battlefield and reached the door. “Well, you two kids have fun all right? Try not to stay up too late, you still have school tomorrow, Bobby!”

“You didn’t have to remind me!” Bobby half sobbed and half hissed as he attempted to punch his bottle of water.

“And remember to brush your teeth!” This time, he glared at him as he reminded me once again that he was eighteen and that he knew he had to brush his teeth. Randy swallowed back the remark about how Bobby forgot to brush his teeth multiple times after he reached majority he felt forming at the back of his throat and instead turned to target Hacker instead.

“As for you, son, you remember not to stay up too late, okay? While you do get eight hours of sleep, 4 A.M. to 12 A.M. is not an extremely healthy sleep schedule.” Hacker waved Randy's worry away with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, I got it Randy, don’t worry about me.” He responded, knowing very well that he was most probably not going to stay up anyway because of watching too many tik Tok videos. Randy must have known but he did not comment as he closed the door shut behind him.

His hand traced down the thin page and he cursed. “Why did it have to be that math? It is literally the hardest of the hardest to explain!”

“Well, ask that to my teacher not me.” Bobby huffed, pouting. “I do not even get why we learn all that shit at school. You and Randy are both working but I never see any of you bring out those stuff for any kind of situation! It is so pointless!”

“I’m with you on that one, dude.” He nodded, as he slouched back onto his chair. “I mean, I guess it could be useful for some careers, but I doubt that you want to pursue anything in the scientific field.”

As if to prove his point, Bobby stuck his tongue out at the suggestion. “Ew, I would rather kiss one of your exes.”

“Well damn, if you wanted to that badly you should have just said so.” he snickered at Bobby’s outraged reaction.

“Ew ew ew! Hell no!” He shoved him weakly, earning a little laugh from the other.

“Well now that this is out of the question, I’m kind of not in the mood to do math.” He melted onto the chair as he spun back in forth, looking extremely bored. “What if we just skip that part?”

Bobby glanced back and forth from Hacker to the notebook spread on the table.

“I mean, I would love to, but the teacher said that whoever doesn’t do their homework will get a mail sent to their parents and two hours in detention.” Hacker scoffed at that, spinning a pencil in between two fingers.

“Did you forget that Randy cannot use any electronic device for the life of him? While he is your legal guardian, I am the one who receives your school mail. Besides, I can always talk your way out of that detention thing.” Bobby seemed relieved but he still had a frown on his face.

“They also said that we were going to get a pretty important test about it next week.” Hacker shrugged at that, a smirk on his face.

“Well, if you’re worried about your grades, your school’s system isn’t that hard to breach...” Bobby was about to tell him something, even a thank you with starry eyes before a disappointed dad burst through the door, startling both boys out of their skin.

“No hacking into the school’s system to change Bobby’s grades!” Randy put his fists on his hips as he stared sternly at them.

“But--”

“No buts apart from the one attached to you! Do it in the right way or you will be banned from pancakes for a week!” Bobby and Hacker both groaned as they turned back to the notebook reluctantly, Randy huffing as he closed the door again.

“Well, I guess it’s time that I pull out my secret teacher skills.” Hacker said as he began cracking his fingers and neck like he was about to step inside a ring.

Bobby scoffed, picking up his neglected pencil.

“As if you had that.”

***

“Holy shit, you might actually be a good teacher.” Bobby sounded bewildered at the completed homework that he finished before the clock stroked 9 P.M. “You ever thought about becoming one?”

Hacker gagged at the suggestion. “Hell no! I am not going to spend my days teaching loud brats!”

“Well at least you would have earned more money, I don’t think your job at the 7/11 is paying all that well...”

“YOU DON’T EVEN WORK! DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT MONEY!”

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, S T U P I D .”

“BOYS!”

#dreamswap #fluff #crack #crack post #ds hacker #ds randy #ds bobby #dreamswap hacker #dreamswap randy #dreamswap bobby #creepypasta squad #fmaa2

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lightvsdark18 · 1 year

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Some responses to voicelines (Floyd)

You havin' fun gathering all this junk? You're like one of those merpeople who are into collectin' stuff that fell to the bottom of the sea.

... Yeah, most likely.

What're you doing today? Maybe I'll tag along.

(lies) The library.

Man, every day's a party when I'm with you. I can't get enough!

Aw. You're fun too, sometimes.

School Uniform

You wanna know what kinda classes we had in the sea? I can bring you to one, if you're interested. Hee hee...

I'm now concerned.

I got a perfect score on the test, but he still gets mad at me for skipping class. I don't get it. If I get good grades, what does it matter?

Because you're here to work and not lollygag.

Aha ha! Keep that up and I'll squeeze you silly.

And I'll squeeze you back.

P.E. Uniform

I'm kind of feeling it today. Wanna try me?

Try you at what?

Apparently, if you over-exercise, you won't get tall. I'm still growing, so I gotta be careful!

Wait, you're still growing? Damn, boy, how tall do you need to be?

I'm not in the mood for Basketball Club today. You go in my place.

(flat) No.

I'm suuuper flexible. You wanna see? I can show you!

Eh, sure, why not.

Wanna play tag or something? I'll be "it." Better start running.

Floyd, no... Boy, stop smiling like that.

Labwear

If you're having trouble finishing your homework, hit up Azul. He'll help you out with anything if you pay his price.

Not interested.

If you mix everything in according to the recipe, you already know it's gonna work out, right? That's the most boring thing.

It helps you remember the recipe because you're physically making it instead of just reading it and memorizing.

Want me to help out with that experiment? Aha ha, don't be so shy.

It's not shyness, it's just me not trusting you.

I'll give you the potion I just made. You wanna know what it does? How should I know?

You made it. You know what? Nevermind, I don't want the potion anymore.

Here. Have some cookies I made from random stuff. You'll enjoy every last bite for me, won't you?

Actually, I'm not hungry. (Lie)

Ceremonial Robes

Want me to teach you the rules here at Night Raven College?

You actually know the rules? Heh.

Standing still is so boring. How about you and I do a little something fun instead?

I rather not cause trouble, or be in it.

The black carriage even came down under the sea to get us. It's a pretty sweet ride, if I do say so myself.

The black carriage went to the bottom of the ocean? Wait, actually thinking about it, it shouldn't be surprising considering I'm here. But that's just raises the question on how far the carriage can go.

Sitting still for a whole ceremony is such a waste of time. Oooh, I've got an idea. I'll tail you, Shrimpy.

You'll what?

You're so funny, Shrimpy. Aren't you scared I'll get back at you for all that poking?

No, not really because I'll just poke you back.

Oh, whatever is the matter? Ha! I was pretending to be Jade. Did it work? You can tell us apart if you look real close.

I really didn't expect your voice to change. Good job.

Dorm Uniform

You got a very serious problem? There might be something we can do. Heh heh heh...

("My safety is in danger, isn't it?")

Don't be so scared. I just wanna give you a nice squeeze.

Nice for you or me?

I won't squeeze anyone who makes good on their payment. But if you DON'T... You ain't getting any mercy from me. Hee hee!

("What's wrong with these guys?")

Bowties are all tight and uncomfortable, don'tcha think? I dunno how Jade and the others deal with 'em.

I never worn a bowtie, but I know I couldn't handle it either.

Lookit these socks. They got an octopus pattern on 'em! Just as cute as the Sea Witch herself, right?

Can I get a pair?

Outdoor Wear

I hope camping on land's as action-packed as camping under the sea!

You can go camping in the sea? What is it like?

Check out this moray mascot I got. It's supposed to be Jade, since he wanted to come camping. Looks just like him, yeah?

Heh, yeah it does.

Now to just cast the line and wait— nope, I'm bored. How about we ditch this and get up to somethin' fun?

Stay at the line. I'll tell you a story if it will entertain you.

The fairies by the lake were so teeny. One little squeeze and they'd probably just disappear.

Please don't squeeze them.

How's a campfire different from a regular bonfire?

I don't really know.

Halloween

Oh man, I'm DIGGIN' that look, Shrimpy. I gotta make your face contort in fear more often.

Please don't.

I MAY have gone a skosh overboard on the pranks last year. I'm takin' it easy this time around.

This is you taking it easy? I'm lucky I wasn't here last year.

Azul asked me to chip in with pumpkin carvin'. It turned out to be more fun than I expected, so I made a moray jack-o'-lantern.

Can I see it?

That your idea of scarin' someone, Shrimpy? It ain't workin'. How's about I show you how it's done?

I rather you not. I'm not trying to genuinely scare anyone because I don't feel like it.

#twisted wonderland #twst voicelines #floyd leech

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kitkatopinions · 1 year

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Okay, I've watched the first episode of volume 7. This isn't a review or anything, but I'm just gonna put my general thoughts below the keep reading. Spoilers obviously and also RWBY criticism up ahead

So I think I'm gonna give this episode a 3 out of 10 ranking. It's... Worse than I had hoped, but it wasn't a complete flop and there's some stuff that I did like, so let's get into it.

Praise:

Ruby's voice acting is for the most part good. Her voice actor doesn't do so well on the gasping and crying, but as for the rest of it, I find it much improved and enjoy that Ruby is starting to sound a bit more mature, and more subdued. Her squeaky voice gets to be a little much, so I was pleasantly surprised at her performance.

In times of quiet, Little is cute. Some of how they're animated is charming, like when they sniffed at Ruby's hand or moved their little paws over their face. Of course Little looks the cutest when they're on four legs or are all curled up. But it really seems like the animators tried their best to make Little look as good as they could manage and it paid off. They're not Reepicheep from the Prince Caspian movie quality, but they get the job done.

I like that they had Ruby not ask Little about Weiss, because Ruby doesn't know yet that Weiss fell too.

I could be wrong, but I think this is the first time that a weapon that wasn't Ruby's was actually named in show. It's about ten years too late to make 'the weapons have names' a convincing part of the world of RWBY, but at least it's here at all, we now have a weapon other than Crescent Rose that fans might know the name of without doing online homework.

"Blake... I'm really glad you're okay." "...I'm really glad you are too." Am I so starved for closeness between these characters that I saw that and I was like "Monochrome? Monochrome in 2023? Do I ship post-volume-five-Blake with post-volume-five-Weiss?" Um, Blake's expression is so cute??

There might not be a lot that the animators can do to save that hair, but they're doing their darnedest with her facial expressions and it paid off.

I also kind of like Weiss shutting down stuff and trying to be more action focused instead of breaking down about everything, it seems like a good way to characterize her.

The voice of the new creeper Jabberwocky is good! It was so well done, super striking, it reminded me of the Cyclops in Epic the Musical the Concept Album which is a good thing. A very good job there.

Yang's voice acting is also good so far (though I dislike BDunks so it pains me to admit it.) The delivery of her 'dammit, you weren't supposed to be here' was well done and made me feel for Yang emotionally.

Blake coming up with plans and being a bit more optimistic - while not what I would choose for her character - is in line with the past couple of volumes and could be a good thing, and at this point is the best direction I think they could take with her character after how they've done her lately.

Criticism

First things first: Do you guys remember how I said that the first look we got awhile ago was jerky and seemed really off and Ruby's facial expressions were really lacking in much emotion, but that since it was a 'first look' it was likely an unfinished product and so I didn't wanna judge the finished product on it and said 'maybe it will change and get better?' ...Whelp it didn't. The first like seven minutes of this fifteen minute episode is all just the stuff from the first look.

So just to reiterate, I don't like first person POV stuff. I just think it never manages to look good and RWBY is no exception. They did their best with the combat I think, but idk, to me it just felt clunky and it looked bad. And Ruby's reaction to seemingly dying after her sister died, along with her friend Blake, and getting attacked midair by Neo, and then waking up on an island with giant shells is this

No grabbing her scroll to see if she can call anyone, no verbally calling for Blake or Yang, no immediate panicking or immediate reaction outside of :/ Okay. And her reaction to getting squawked at by a giant multicolored bird is

And look I know people are gonna be like "she's a trained huntress, you think she's gonna react to the presence of a bird?" And it's like... yes, actually, because as a trained fighter who fights giant birds, don't you think she should've jerked and reached for her (not there) weapon when there was squawking in her ear? And either way, most people even trained soldiers would at least glance at the thing suddenly making loud noises at them. And then Ruby goes from non-reaction to comedic grumbling as she finds herself in a loop, and then straight to tears, which is... Kind of hard to take seriously because of how things have been framed so far. It doesn't feel like Ruby is close to snapping and trying not to breakdown when she's crying, because she looked pretty emotionless three seconds ago and it comes right after a comedy bit about how a mouse watches Ruby struggle with a loop. And there's also zero urgency involved. Ruby felt more panicked in the scene in Volume 2 when Penny was pulling her away from guards during a time of peace. Ruby felt more sad and desperate when Weiss was being mean because Ruby was made a leader in volume 1, and when she was sad that Blake wasn't coming to the prom.

Also, I'm gonna point out that while I really like the fact that Ruby stopped her crying to help a mouse and it kind of cheered her up a little bit, I kind of think it throws off the messages of kindness that it's immediately followed by "if only you could help me." I don't think it doesn't make sense from a character point of view because she doesn't even know the mouse talks. But if the point of that is for us to see that Ruby is kind and selfless and goes out of her way to help with no expectations or strings attached, I think that the writers could've not had it followed up with Ruby expressing the desire for a return on her kindness. I think they could've easily had Little just be like 'Thanks!' and then offer to help her escape the loop or something. I just don't get that line, from a writing point of view.

I also think Little's voice and Little themself is annoying, which I've already gotten into, so I don't need to say it again. But the 'Little and the mice have identities based on 'what they do' and only then do they know who they are or even get names is... I'm gonna give it the benefit of the doubt that it won't be used to hammer in themes of identity and Ruby's role and job as a Huntress, you know, past this early already hammering it in, but... Yeah, let's hope from here on in, it isn't emphasized too much. Let's go for a little bit of subtlety.

Also please compare the scene with Little and Ruby to the movie Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe when Lucy meets Tumnas

youtube

You'll notice that Mr. Tumnas reacts to Lucy with every bit of confusion that she reacts to him, because he's never seen a human before the same way that she's never seen a faun. Little just acts like there's nothing weird at all about this thing that she's never once seen before, until Ruby starts screaming because Little spoke. And also Tumnas and Lucy both react with confusion and are startled that the other doesn't know what they are, but even Little who is seemingly very young and doesn't know yet that Ruby is from another world just takes it in their stride that Ruby doesn't know animals can talk without even a pause.

Also here's what I'm gonna say about the jokes about the mice and Blake being a faunus. First off, one of my medium case scenarios of 'pretty expected but still annoying' things has come true already

Two or more jokes about Blake being a cat Faunus (counting the one where Little is afraid when Ruby says Blake has cat ears)

And second off, how can they even tell she's a cat, for one. 'She has cat ears.' Yeah, they do resemble a cat. Does Blake have any other feature that even sort of resembles a cat? And her ears are easily missed at first sight. So why is it that the mice are like 'forgive us for trying to capture you and your friend, but you'll understand, we don't like cats.' Like why would they assume she's a cat? They don't know what faunus are or what human beings are, it'd be like someone seeing a fox and being like 'their ears are pointy like a cat they must be a cat' except even stupider because foxes at least walk on four legs and have fur over their body and are small-ish enough and have tails. And third off, what was this choice, from a writer angle. Blake is a member of a marginalized minority group and it's bad to treat her like an animal, but the writers write a story where 'cute' little mice assume she's a cat or freak out at the mention of her faunus traits, and also none of the mains seem that uncomfortable about it? Ruby is just like 'I shouldn't have mentioned Blake's faunus traits, I've seen cartoons, so I should know that cats and mice don't get along' (insert audience laughter here.) And when the mouse is like 'you understand we don't get along with cats' Blake is just like "yeah it's fine" instead of saying something like "I'm not a cat" or "just so you know I don't like being treated like a cat" and she doesn't even like, look vaguely uncomfortable? It's just weird. It feels like the writers just don't want to engage with Blake being a Faunus in any sort of significant way at all and instead just make jokes about it all the time.

Blake and Weiss's reunion getting completely skipped over and Ruby's reunion with them getting side-stepped is dumb and annoying. I mean I already know that the writers don't care much about their dynamics with each other these last couple seasons, except for an obligatory 'they're friends' here and there and a couple shallow conversations maybe, but it's just frustrating. We don't get to see Blake upset that Weiss fell, or Ruby upset that Weiss fell, or them hugging or anything. "It happened off screen!" That's part of the problem, I don't want emotional moments that will increase my belief in friendships and my interest in dynamics to happen off screen, I want to actually see them.

Weiss and Blake not being able to reach Blake's weapon doesn't make sense. Look, I know Blake doesn't have her weapon and Weiss is low on dust, but they're basically superheroes who have always hopped and jumped around with little effort in the past. Like, we're talking about these kids, right?

Also, Weiss has fundamentally changed as a character because her being a cheerleader and going 'woo, yeah!' while jumping in the air with a big beaming grin on her face made sense to me and I'm honestly sad about it. People can say whatever they want about 'character growth' or whatever, but I liked the idea of Weiss being not Nora 2.0 thanks. I already had Nora, I already had Ruby, I already had Little, I already had Neon Katt, I don't need Weiss to be the same type of character who would do that kind of thing. Other people liked cheerleader Weiss and good for them, but I didn't like it.

The design and movement of the Jabberwocky thing is - imo - overrated. It didn't really seem very creepy to me, or very interesting aesthetically. Also, I'm sorry, but the first 'fight' of the season is Blake swinging her blade at something, Weiss getting ready to fight, and then Yang hurling a rock at the monster, and then that's it? That was such a let down.

Ruby at Yang: "If you thought we wouldn't come for you, then you must've forgotten who raised me." Me: "What does this have to do with Tai? Oh, does she mean Qrow, since Qrow was in the habit of following them and saving them - Ohhh she means Yang!" Tbh, this line would've been so much more emotional if that had ever seemed to impact their relationship with each other or Tai or Qrow, instead of Tai seeming like a great and loving father and Ruby clearly modeling herself after Qrow and the writers being like 'omg isn't Ruby so connected to Summer' in seasons seven and eight. I honestly forget that it's even part of their story, because Ruby never talks about or acts like she had a neglectful father, Yang doesn't fill a maternal role for her, Ruby has a perfectly fine good relationship with Tai... It just could've been treated more significantly, and as it is, it doesn't feel emotional to me because of how little they've done with it. No, not everything needs to be gone into and explored (though after ten years, ehhh,) but it just makes lines like this fall flat when they aren't.

Also, Ruby at Yang: "If you thought we wouldn't come for you, then you must've' forgotten who raised me." Me: "None of them came for Yang, they were thrown in. None of them tried to jump in, they all fell in while they were trying not to. None of them even said something like 'to be honest I'm glad we're here, so Yang won't be alone' or something." This line would've been more impactful if Ruby at the very least had a chance to get through to Vacuo and chose to jump down instead, and especially if they had actually fought back Cinder enough to have a conversation and decide to go in after Yang. As it is, Yang is like "you weren't supposed to be here" and Ruby kind of leads her to believe that they came in after her on purpose, which just isn't true. Also, I feel like that would've been more impactful if Yang had protested it, like Yang thought she was dead and Ruby essentially tells her "you should've known I'd follow you to my death." Yang should be like "No, Ruby, that's messed up! You don't have to risk your life just because I happened to go down! We're Hunters, but if one of us dies, the rest of us can't just up and die too!"

Also, last thing I'm gonna say about this, I swear, but as Ruby and co are set up as leaders and saviors of the world on a quest to save the world, it kind of feels... Irresponsible, to have the mentality of 'if one of us gets into a horrible bad situation the others will too it's all of us or none of us!" Because they have a bigger responsibility than that. It's very in character and it makes sense and is very sympathetic and could be done well, but it isn't necessarily a good mentality to have, so I hope that's not just treated like a good given.

The bees reunion was lackluster tbh, but what else was I supposed to expect at this point? I hope this is the last time I hear the term 'beeunion' from here on in. It's gotten old. At least we got to see it though.

Also, someone else pointed this out, but them not showing Weiss's face and just having her kind of quip at Yang and then the next second already be in tears felt lackluster too when we could've watched her face fall as she struggles to hold back tears. And the tone problems for this episode are really off the charts. Instead of letting this be a completely serious moment, it's like "Yang is sad that Ruby and the others are in her mind, dead - Omg guys isn't Little so funny and quirky lol talking mouse! - Awww what a sweet soft moment between Yang and Blake - Weiss is crying! She's recounting the traumatic experience from the last volume!

And I'm sorry, I know I might be in the minority on this even in rwde circles, but I did not like Ruby fainting. First of all, because the set up to Ruby fainting is not super great. She's comedically frustrated by being in a loop, now she's crying but not for long, now she has a little friend who is making her happier, now she's reacting to the wacky hijinks of the mice, now she's seriously asking what happened but with zero urgency, now she's kind of happy to see Yang and trying to encourage her, now she's FAINTING! This, coupled with the fact that she, Weiss, and Blake arguably got a lot more rest than anybody else in the last volume except for like Whitley makes this reaction not super convincing to me - especially since Ruby's reaction to Penny being alive was so lackluster. I suppose it makes sense from a character standpoint that even though she didn't seem particularly happy to see Penny when she got resurrected, she did try really hard to save her and hasn't responded well to hard situations in volumes, so yeah hearing that someone she tried to save just died anyway might make Ruby the character faint I guess. But again, the emotional weight of it wasn't there for me as a viewer. Especially because Ruby fainting and then us cutting to her waking up was a convenient way for the writers to skip over 1. anyone else reacting to the news about Penny's death 2. anyone comforting Weiss. 3. Weiss pulling herself together. 4. Actually recounting what happened. It just felt like a way for them to be like "actually it doesn't matter, don't worry about that." They instantly move on.

"Clearly they're gonna come back to it!" Okay, cool, but that doesn't mean it isn't annoying to me that it got shuffled to the side now. There was just no real emotional weight to the moment for me.

Blake being the one to say "we're in a fairytale" makes sense since - outside of Ruby - she's the one that actually knows fairy tales, but it is a little weird to me. If I fell off a magical bridge and landed in some weird strange place, I would come to a lot of conclusions before I was like "what if we're in books written for children?" Even if it looked like it. I don't know. Maybe it works because of how fairy tales are framed as 'ringing with truths' in RWBY, but even then, I feel like the more realistic not-made-for-a-trailer line would be like "I read about a place like this in a fairy tale" or "this reminds me of a fairy tale" or "this seems like the place a fairy tale I know was based off of." They're not - as far as they or we know - "in a fairy tale" the way people get read into Inkheart the book in the book Inkheart, they're just in a place that fairy tales might potentially be based off of. Just a weird line imo.

Anyway, those were my thoughts about the new ep.

#rwde #rwby volume 9 spoilers #anti rwby #Youtube

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heliosoll · 2 years

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hi sorry if this is bothersome but u inspired me to make a winx dr and flora is my gf in my winx dr and i wanna know more about her 👀 just please tell me all about what she’s like in your dr as much as possible if ur up for it!! any storytimes? what is she like in general? what’s her aesthetic like? her likes and dislikes? interests omg

- 🪄 anon, i’m still here sorry i haven’t sent an ask in a while! i was trying to stop overconsuming info

OMG HIIII ugh i could talk about her all day please 🥰

I would definitely recommend watching the show or even comps on youtube! And reading the comics if you're up for that! Both of my DRs were a mix of the cartoon, movies, and comics so her personality in them is 1 to 1!

I would say in general, Flora can be very shy but she isn't as shy as people think! In a weird way, I think she's shyer with people she knows rather than people she doesn't. She's absolutely not afraid to stand up for herself and she can be very opinionated, especially if it's about something very important to her (she often advocated for things!). She's shyer when it comes to people complimenting her, but not so much with getting to know people or talking to strangers! Literally there are times when she complained about people not being social enough aljdghljahg. Although she was very shy with Helia so since you're dating her you might see that side of her more 🥰

Flora can be very chatty when she's in a good mood :) And she can talk forever about the things she loves (if you let her, she will absolutely talk to you for hours about plant care). And speaking of plants! Flora loves it when people help her with her plants! She doesn't expect it and she can feel bad asking because she doesn't want to force anyone or feel like a burden, but she does really like it when people spend time with her while she's gardening, especially if they're participating.

She can get very protective and mother hen like too! Her parents were relatively good at raising Miele and not making Flora do too much to help, but Flora kind of naturally wanted to help out with her and often acted a bit motherish. Now she gets like that with all of us, although it has gotten better over the years! She's not overbearing or anything but there were times when we would want to do something and would say something like "you can't, that's too dangerous". And she's not trying to be controlling or dismissing but it did occasionally feel like she didn't trust us. But again, it got a lot better and now she's just protective instead of overprotective.

In my DRs, Flora was very careful about what she ate! Not in a dieting way, but in an ethical way. She didn't mind eating meat as long as she knew exactly where it came from, how the animal lived, how it died, etc. Same with any vegetables or fruits! She outright refused to eat food if she knew it was unethical in any way (that includes a bad working environment). Thankfully, we didn't really have to deal with that a lot but certain planets weren't as strict with their rules so there were times like that.

Flora is very smart! She consistently had all A's and all her classes are advanced. She's also surprisingly good at managing her time! There were plenty of times when she would hang out with us but she still managed to study for all her classes, finish her homework/projects, take care of her plants, make time for dates, etc. And she slept at night! Girlie is insane actually I still don't know how she can do that

But speaking of school, she enjoyed all of her classes but she really liked Potionology! I'm pretty sure that was in the show at some point? But anyway, Flora loves potions! She enjoys making them, studying them, creating new ones. The whole thing! She has a bit of a chemist vibe honestly she really likes experimenting with things :)

Likes and dislikes... she likes romantic comedies, walks through Lynphean forests, cooking and baking, cuddling (!!!), holding hands, really any kind of casual intimacy, upbeat music, sun hats, fruit (!! she loves fruit, especially strawberries and watermelon), flowy dresses, and obviously gardening and other things related to nature. She likes dancing too but she can get really nervous if it's just her and no one else dancing so make sure to dance with her! For dislikes, anyone who shows their anger through yelling, anyone who hurts or disrespects nature, people who hurt or disrespect her loved ones, horror movies, she's not great with things that are too spicy, popcorn (because it gets stuck in her teeth), when people don't take serious situations seriously enough, and writing essays (she's good at it, she just finds it boring).

I wouldn't usually do this but since I don't think a lot of people are going to read this far, here's a link to a pinterest board I made with outfits she wore and things that are very similar! A lot of them she wore during our time on Earth :) And a board I just made for her bedroom aesthetic! It's not completely accurate of course but it does get the general vibe across.

If you want to know more let me know! I've said this before and I'll say it a million times!! I love my winx DRs so much and I could spend hours talking about them :') So def don't get worried about bothering me or sending too many questions about them!

#bit long innit luv #letters 🎀#dr storytime #🪄 anon

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9223372036854775808-1 · 6 months

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10 Sep, 729 A.C. 15:05

Northlands High School, Outside Newcastle City

Manhattan pushed open the door of the classroom where Brooklyn often stayed after school. Inside, Brooklyn sat facing the windows on a desk, her eyes lost in the bright sunlight and blue sky outside. The windows were all open, and a gentle breeze came inside and brushed against her soft, golden hair, letting it sway lightly. Brooklyn was pretty for a 9th grade girl, but there were things that attracted Manhattan towards this girl even more.

Manhattan sat on a chair near the front of the classroom. This part of school was quite old and already seldom used, so the classroom was sure to be theirs for as long as they wanted.

The autumn breeze blew in the sunlit classroom. Manhattan spoke first: “So, how’s it going?”

“Do you really have to greet me with this sentence every time?” Brooklyn joked next to Manhattan. At least it was supposed to be a joke. Manhattan realized that she just didn’t get the point of more “modern ways of greeting people, let alone using them. Using weird and awkward gestures was just the start of this endless black hole of socializing, and Manhattan, unlike many other girls, seldom cared about the beauty of fashion, so she couldn’t go around praising others for their tastes in fashion and stuff to start a conversation. Someone as cool and ordinary as Brooklyn, she thought, was good-looking enough. “Maybe. Wanna go for a walk outside after I finish with my homework? Maybe… you know, walk to the usual ice cream place, maybe.”

“Did you notice that you just said three maybes in one sentence.”Brooklyn said. Manhattan realized another thing that made her think that Brooklyn’s appearance felt good: her face was expressionless most of the time, even when she said something funny, in contrast to everyone else, including Manhattan, who had to put on either a smile or an exaggerated expression all day long. Manhattan sat closer, and their eyes met. Brooklyn was short and skinny, so even when she sat on the desk, her head was not much taller than Manhattan’s. Manhattan looked into her eyes from the side. “Maybe. My life is full of maybes anyway.” Then Manhattan looked to the ground.

Maybe she would be happier and make better friends at a better school, maybe a private school rather than a public one. Maybe she should watch more anime and read more manga to stack up her knowledge of the plots instead of being such a bookworm. Maybe she should really try to improve her sleep habits and quality so that she wouldn’t fall asleep every time on her first class of the day. Her problems may seem small to others, but when there’re too many of them, her whole life just gets more and more messy and all tangled up, like what happens to earbuds after you put them into your bag and shake the bag.

At least Manhattan had her one-and-only best friend by her side for now. Spending time with Brooklyn made Manhattan forget about her problems for a short while, and Manhattan always felt good that way since Brooklyn was optimistic and never really cared about anything.

Brooklyn came off the table and sat on Manhattan’s laps. It was something they often did together, and Manhattan felt nice about it. She almost never got to get so close with a human, not even her own parents, after she entered middle school. She hadn’t even hugged anyone for many days. With Brooklyn sitting on her laps, she felt the warmth of the human body that she longed for, and it felt heartwarming. She slowly stroked Brooklyn’s soft and nice golden hair, letting it flow off her fingertips. Brooklyn blushed a bit. Although she was not the type of person who would express it all on her face, she blushed a lot every single time, especially in the summer or after PE. Of course. Manhattan knows that this time it was because of something different.

“Hey.” Manhattan seemed to remember something.

“What?”

“I think up till now I have told you a lot about what I’m thinking every day, right? But you never told me about your thoughts.”

“Mm-hum.”

“I kinda want to hear about it now. You’ve been a great friend because you really listened to my thoughts, and I think listening to you will be something good for, like, thanking you. Or whatever.”

“You really want to hear about them? They won’t be pleasant to hear.”

“Yeah… but what I think every day are not exactly pleasant thoughts, are they? Nothing positive in there. Plus, you are my best friend, so if you feel anything disturbing, you can share it with me so that you’ll feel better.”

“I know, but it’s not you… I’m afraid that I might not be ready to tell you yet.” Although Manhattan would share everything about her with Brooklyn because she was able to feel accompanied by friendship this way, Brooklyn seldom seemed to reveal many aspects of herself. She lay her head below Manhattan’s for a while, seeming to enjoy the moment. Somehow Manhattan knew that her head was thinking fast about it.

They sat for a while, enjoying the blowing breeze and the setting sun. Silently, Manhattan worked on her homework, and Brooklyn thought.

When the sun was not so bright anymore and it was cool outside, Manhattan patted Brooklyn on the head. “Hey. I’ve finished. Wanna go now?”

Brooklyn opened her eyes, and Manhattan found that she actually fell asleep. Though it wasn’t something uncommon; it seemed like Brooklyn was falling asleep all the time throughout the day. (It was the opposite at night, as far as Manhattan knew.) “Okay, I guess I’ve decided. I’ll start telling you these things about me starting 5 minutes later, when we get to the ice cream place. But promise me that you won’t tell anyone about these kinds of things, alright?” Brooklyn lifted her head so that her face nearly touched Manhattan’s left ear. Her voice was down to a whisper. “I don’t want anyone in the school to know about them.” She then stood up and started walking out of the classroom. Manhattan followed her.

#yuri #oc #fanfic #writing #girls who like girls #original character #original post #cgdct #new user #why

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marlborodean · 3 years

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here’s my analysis of a 14-yr-old supernatural episode

so remember that episode where sam fucked a werewolf? because he related to her unwilling monstrosity? well that episode is actually just about dean starting to come to grips with his childhood and his sexuality.

if you ship w/ncest do not interact. this post is not anti-sam either btw.

content warning: discussions of childhood trauma, internalized homophobia, guns, killing.

does include some images with Image Descriptions following them.

[ID: An over-the-shoulder close-up shot from the episode, focused on Madison, the werewolf, as she cries. Dean is standing behind her. They are both looking at Sam, whose shoulder is on the edge of the frame. End ID.]

Brief episode recap just in case u don’t remember. This ep is 2x17 “Heart.” Sam and Dean are hunting a werewolf. They discover that the woman they interviewed, Madison, is a werewolf (not THEE werewolf, but one of them). Sam develops a lil crush on her <3 I wrote the majority of this after watching it for the first time in almost SIX years, so i was just vibing the whole time UNTIL the last shot changed it all for me. So let me explain!

Three important points that i will refer back to:

1. The episode begins with Dean being excited to hunt a werewolf because "what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don't you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven't seen one since we were kids."

2. Then the episode centers on Sam and his relationship with the werewolf woman and his own monstrosity: "[Dean: Sam, she's a monster and you're feeling sorry for her?] Maybe I understand her."

3. BUT THEN the last shot of the episode is of Dean crying as music plays (see below for the specific lyrics) and then Dean jumps at the sound of the gunshot. That's it! That's the end of the episode!

[ID: For all three screencaps, Dean is looking torturously sad. Each one is zoomed a little bit closer to his face than the last. In the last image, Dean sheds a single man tear. The captioned lyrics for the first one say "Relax, child, you were there." The second says "but only didn't realize" and the third says "and you were scared." End ID]

Even though the story is supposed to be about Sam and his monstrosity, and partly about his relationship w/romance since this is the first person he’s slept with since Jess died (at least with what is shown on screen)...the Dean Sandwich tells us otherwise. We're supposed to be taking away something about DEAN here. Like, that's the whole purpose behind the last shot focusing solely on Dean instead of Sam who is AT THAT MOMENT, KILLING THE GIRL HE HAS FEELINGS FOR. It's literally a heartbreaking, devastating, super traumatic thing for Sam to be going through, but instead we're watching Dean as a single tear slides down his face lmao. It's because this episode is about DEAN, and furthering his story.

Let’s not queer this just yet. The death of the werewolf is about/representing his loss of innocence. It's a violent disconnect from his childhood. Point # 1 shows that he is fascinated by werewolves because since he was a kid he thought they were badass, not to mention all the werewolf films he references throughout. Then, through the music lyrics over that last scene, they mirror that theme of childhood. They’ve done this before, having the diegetic music directly reference what the characters are going through. No different here: Dean is the child they’re referring to.

I have to reiterate that that's the last thing we hear before the gunshot cuts the music short and then the cut to black. "You were scared" is the last thing we hear before the gunshot, as Dean cries. ALSO I have to reiterate that Dean was looking forward to killing a werewolf and shooting it himself. So it's super fascinating that, not only is Sam the one that kills the werewolf, WE DON’T EVEN SEE IT HAPPEN.

[ID: A medium-close shot of Dean as he looks at Sam, who takes up the right half of the frame. The caption says, “Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it.” End ID.]

Am i gonna have to say this now? The werewolf is a metaphor, okay? It's a metaphor for his innocence, which is long-dead, forever doomed. I mean, a lot of kids love werewolves because they ARE badass! It's a classic monster that anyone could easily obsess over, and with Dean's childhood it must've seemed even cooler, knowing they're real and having the power to kill this "mythical" beast. So the way he's looking forward to killing one is the way a child imagines themselves as a hero.

But what happens instead is a tragic mercy killing. It's flipping his fantasy completely on its head, and it makes Dean realize that.....his fantasies are just fantasies. They aren't real, never would be. There's nothing heroic about killing this werewolf. It's tragic as hell. When he offers to kill her himself, it's just to relieve Sam's burden, but he's reluctant still. Because, as he keeps saying, he doesn't want to be a hunter! He doesn't want this life! He's tired of killing! And that's also what he's mourning as he cries and startles at the gunshot. His fantasies will never be real and his childhood could never have been normal and he never got a chance to be a kid because being a hunter was thrust on him at such a young age. And now it feels inescapable.

[ID: A gif of the slow zoom on Dean’s face as the single tears slips down his cheek. He jumps at the gunshot, then blinks and his lip wobbles. End ID.]

So now we can queer it :-) Of course all monster stories can be easily queered, but werewolves are popularly queered. The first example that comes to mind is An American Werewolf in London (1981) isn’t an overtly queer film (though it is Jewish!) but it’s definitely read that way by a lot of people!! Anyway the film was directed by John Landis which JUST SO HAPPENS to be the pseudonym Dean goes by in this episode. hmm. (Also, interestingly, the BTVS ep where the first gay character comes out references this film too)

[ID: Sam and Dean are standing close to each other. Sam is in the foreground, not in focus. Dean, behind him, says, “Landis. And Detective Dante.” End ID.]

There’s this essay about the queer werewolf that you can read here (and they also talk about fandom in it! very fascinating), where they say in the intro: “the werewolf seems an obvious choice as a queer monster with its identity-disrupting hybridity, as well as its atavistic, and, thus, disallowable sexuality.” A lot like Kristeva’s theory of the abject body! which is popular in queer theory.

This episode is then queering Sam—his attraction to the werewolf makes him abject—but it also queers Dean thru the way his attitude towards the werewolf transforms (get it?) throughout the ep. His desire and eagerness to kill the werewolves is obviously ingrained in him from John’s parenting. Consider what he said in 2x03 “Bloodlust”: “And the way he raised us, to hate those things—and man, I hate them, I do.” In conjunction with the monsters in the show being seen as queer allegories (the gorgon, as an example of an explicit comparison), Dean’s excitement to kill the werewolf can be read as internalized homophobia and repressing any of his own feelings.

Remember, though, right before that line in “Bloodlust,” he also said, “What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing?” He’s really beginning to question whether all monsters are bad, and what it means to kill them. Is he also questioning what he believes of queer people? What John believed of queer people? The loss of innocence and queering both slot together through that final shot, imo: he’s crying because he realizes his fantasies aren’t real, but he’s also mourning the fact that he never could have had the chance to grow up without John’s control, and now it’s forever tainted his worldview. What else could he have been without that? (The answer is evident in 4x17 “It’s a Terrible Life.”)

Dean was taught to hate queer people but he doesn't want to. He wants to get out of the life but it feels inescapable. He wants to kill a werewolf and then when he has the chance, he doesn't want to. He actually cries as it's killed. It scares him, having to confront that what he thought he knew was wrong, but he knows all the same that he’ll never have the chance to have grown up without that.

#is anyone up? anyone wanna read this? i finished this instead of doing homework #sorry the end is bad LMAO i'm notoriously bad at writing conclusions #also i want to say that the monster allegories in SPN more often have to do with race and not homophobia. but this episode sticks out to me #as representing queerness instead of race. especially because they set it up as compared to Sam's story which is SO queer.#spn #what do i tag this #ej.pdf #supernatural #bi dean #my professors would give me a bad grade on this #portfolio

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oliviaischillin1204 · 2 years

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Imagine, Virgil being the whole one who can wreck Roman and have him happier for the rest of the day, like to the point that roman goes to Virgil in his moods. It’s when Logan gets really curious and asks about it and Virgil shrugs and says he can show Logan if he wants and Logan agrees, instead of intense tickles Virgil just starts complimenting Logan more and more as he softly tickles an average tickle spot, Logan is besides him in laughter and he’s so flustered which makes It tickles more!~

alright. first. this ask was sent March 5 2020. EL EM AY OH. but we finished it! and i actually kinda really like it lmao.

(this is also a reminder that for any sort of prompt/imagine/HC/scenario y'all send me, i 100% might save it for ages if i wanna write a fic about it. so if you've Ever sent me an ask with something like that and u never got a response,,,,, that's why lmao. and i'm sorry if u sent something and weren't explicitly asking for a fic, but sometimes i couldn't tell if something was a prompt or a HC and i wouldn't wanna disappoint anyone who might've been prompting me for a fic. also i'm greedy lmao)

secondly, i realized when i finished it there there is some power play happening here, specifically with a light dom/sub vibe. it's NOT EXPLICIT and i wouldn't even consider it nsfw but it is definitely rated T for Teen so please heed that warning before you read it.

anyways love y'all uwu :3

(Word Count: 2,914 words)

“I don’t understand what we’re doing,” Logan stated from his reclined position on Virgil’s bed. The other side stood over him, watching with a pensive expression.

“You said you wanted me to show you what I do to make Roman not be all mopey and insecure, right?”

“Yes,” Logan admitted, “but I fail to see how the instructions you gave me beforehand could impact whatever you’re about to do.”

“I literally just asked you to wear comfortable clothes, it’s not like I gave you freaking homework or anything,” Virgil said, shooting the logical side an exasperated look. He was standing on the other side of the room, fiddling with the fairy lights on his wall until the room was cast in a soft blue glow.

Logan laid his head back against the pillow. “Regardless, I still fail to see why my simple question required a demonstration. Whatever this special technique is, I doubt that it will be nearly as effective on me as it is on Roman. We’re very different.”

Virgil nodded, slowly moving until he was standing at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah, you are pretty different,” he admitted. He crossed his arms, looking down at Logan’s prone form. The logical side had begrudgingly agreed to ‘loosen up’, as it were, so he’d come to Virgil’s room wearing a pair of soft flannel night pants and a baggy t-shirt. Logan hadn’t seen the point of it, but he was willing to go along with it for the sake of experimentation.

“Do you think you can keep as still as possible for me?” Virgil asked. Logan raised an eyebrow at the vague request, but nodded anyway.

It wasn’t until Virgil slowly lifted his hands, letting his fingertips just graze the balls of Logan’s feet, that it clicked.

“Really?” Logan asked before he could stop himself. “This is what you do with Roman?”

Virgil held his gaze, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“More like what I do to Roman,” he corrected, and before Logan could respond, his fingers began softly spidering along the skin right underneath Logan’s toes.

“You ticklish here?” Virgil asked. There was... something about his voice that Logan couldn’t identify, but it made a strange fluttering feeling rise in his stomach.

“I-- I assume so,” he stammered. The touches were light, but he still felt oddly distracted as he continued, “The feet have a large number of, um, nerve endings--”

Virgil nodded, eyes wide and curious as Logan spoke. But his hands kept spidering, and after a moment they began to move lower, until they danced along his arches and above his heels.

“Yeah?” he prompted when Logan fell silent.

“Yes,” he managed. “Um-- they, they...”

He found that he couldn’t continue: his eyes kept drifting to Virgil’s fingers on his feet, especially when they began moving up and down his soles over and over again.

“Um, that tickles, Virgil,” he said, his voice catching and going slightly breathy as he spoke.

“Good,” Virgil said simply. “That’s the goal.”

His fingers continued their unhurried pace; Logan’s eyes were locked on his hands the entire time. One swipe underneath his toes made him twitch, bringing one foot in front of the other in an instinctive attempt at protection.

Virgil snorted. “Oh, rookie mistake.”

Logan didn’t even have a chance to process that before Virgil grabbed the offending foot with one hand, pulling it as far from the other one as he could before he began tracing slow, delicate lines up and down the sole.

It was at this point that Logan was beginning to realize he’d made something akin to a mistake. Oh, he knew everything would be fine-- Virgil would never risk hurting him, even with something as trivial as tickling. But every glance in Virgil’s direction only made the emo side smile more, and Logan was beginning to feel distinctly trapped in a way that... wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Roman figured it out first, you know,” Virgil said lightly. “He likes to come in here and be annoying, and sometimes when he got too annoying, it would escalate. Of course, he freaking loved it, the drama queen that he is, so it started happening more often. And then he realized... he didn’t just like the tickling.”

All throughout his speech, Virgil’s fingers were slowly, slowly tracing along Logan’s one trapped foot. It left him feeling off-balance, and his free foot began squirming in sympathy where his other foot could not.

Until Virgil allowed one hand to suddenly skitter under Logan’s other foot, too. Logan gasped, far louder in the quiet of the room than he’d intended, and tried to hide the bottom of his foot against the mattress. He struggled hard for several seconds, wiggling his feet and fighting not to pull his legs up to his chest.

“What Roman actually liked,” Virgil said, “was the buildup. He liked it when I went slow. He liked it when I took my time. He liked not having to fight back-- not having to fight at all. Just... letting it happen.”

He paused for a moment, pulling his hands away from Logan’s feet but still leaving them about an inch away in midair. Logan could still feel the heat radiating from Virgil’s fingers.

“Do you want to let it happen?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

Logan blinked. He... he hadn’t meant to answer so quickly.

Virgil smiled. “Thank you.”

And before Logan could even begin to process why Virgil was thanking him, of all things, the anxious side drew both sets of fingers back to scribble and scratch Logan’s feet, slowly migrating from the bottoms, to the sides, and finally swirling along the top of his feet.

“It’s interesting,” Logan managed, trying to keep his voice steady but unable to completely hide his growing flustered state. “By being in your-- your room, you are increasing my anxiety levels in order to, mmm, to make me more sensitive.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Huh, I guess? I never really thought about it like that.”

Suddenly his eyes were back on Logan, his smile curling up at the edges as he continued, “That was a good observation, Logan. You’re really smart.”

Logan blinked rapidly. He felt his face flushing for no discernible reason.

“I, um, yes, thank you, Virgil.”

Virgil hummed, allowing Logan to squirm under his gaze for a few more seconds before continuing his slow crawl up his ankle.

“So, yeah,” he continued nonchalantly. “This is what I do to Roman. I didn’t think it would work so well on you... but I guess you also get in your own head a lot, huh?”

He kept up this light stream of idle chatter, urging Logan with another twitch of his fingers whenever the logical side opened his mouth to respond. Up, up, up Virgil went-- walking two fingers on each hand gingerly up Logan’s shin, taking a quick detour to flutter along the sides and underneath Logan’s knees. When his hands reached Logan’s thighs, he fluttered his fingers with a bit more purpose. Logan startled and pulled his legs partly up without thinking, knees rocking back and forth in an attempt to get away from the light touches against the tops and sides of his thighs.

“Jeez, L, I’m barely even touching you!” Virgil said, and Logan was wholly unfamiliar with and completely unprepared for the teasing tone of his voice. He tried to still his legs, but Virgil was kind enough to pull his hands away a moment later.

“Are you alright if I sit on your legs?” he asked. “It’ll help me reach better, and you won’t have to focus on trying to stay still.”

Logan blinked. “Well... that sounds like a very rational solution, um--”

Before he was finished speaking Virgil climbed onto the bed, gently swinging himself over Logan’s thighs until he was essentially straddling the logical side.

“Thanks,” Virgil said. For once, he seemed calm, cool, and collected-- he knew exactly what he was doing, and Logan just had to listen to him.

“I think I’m gonna go...” Virgil pondered. His hands floated above Logan’s torso, fingers wiggling just slightly as he moved them back and forth like a divining rod before coming to a stop near the middle of his abdomen. “Right. Here.”

With that, Virgil’s fingers touched down, wiggling ever so slightly against Logan’s stomach. It was gentle, gentle enough that Logan could’ve ignored it if he wanted to-- or at least, that’s what he told himself.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re doing good.” Virgil’s voice stayed light and nonchalant as his fingers scurried all over Logan’s stomach, from the bottom of his ribs, to just above his hips, back towards the center, and out to the sides. When the nails of his left hand crawled over a spot on Logan’s left side, he twitched harshly and-- as if he literally just remembered the existence of his hands-- shoved Virgil away from the spot.

To his surprise, Virgil just laughed. “Bad spot?”

Virgil’s fingers swooped inwards again, and Logan inhaled sharply in a way that was not entirely voluntary. He felt his face grow warmer as Virgil laughed at him again.

“Damn, you’re doing even better than I thought,” he said, giving the spot above his bellybutton a few more scratches. “You’re totally giving into it.”

Logan didn’t really know how to parse that comment, nor the compliment that came before it, but he was a bit distracted with the way Virgil’s fingertips continued to dance and swirl along the thin skin of his ribs.

“Thank you,” he replied belatedly, flushing again as Virgil merely chuckled in response before turning his attention back to Logan’s sides. Virgil was now using two fingers on each hand on that one specific spot near Logan’s sides, and was now lightly dragging his fingernails up and down across the soft skin.

“How bad does this tickle, Logan?”

“Ssslightly,” Logan replied, although his voice was breathier than he’d expected.

Virgil nodded. “I’m gonna stay here for a little while, okay?”

“There?” Logan’s voice sounded small and slightly winded, and Virgil merely nodded again. Then he was silent, all of his attention focus on the microscopic flutters of his fingers.

Logan didn’t get it. Virgil was barely doing anything, just scratching where his sides met his stomach with a few fingers, the touch gentle and consistent and--

And it wouldn’t stop.

Logan shifted his torso one way, and the fingers followed. He scooted back in the other direction, and the fingers followed.

Logan gave a breathy huff, the fluttering feeling in his stomach growing even more intense. It only got worse when Virgil added a third finger on each hand, with every addition letting him cover more and more skin.

“I think someone’s ticklish,” Virgil sang in a quiet, lilting voice that made Logan’s stomach swoop. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t bad at all, but it was--

Logan giggled, just once, and the dam burst open.

Suddenly the brushing of Virgil’s nails didn’t merely send tingles along his skin; it lit up something hot and squirmy in his stomach that made him shimmy helplessly away from the delicate touches. Every breath he took rode out of him on a wave of giggly laughter, and heat roared to his cheeks when he realized Virgil was laughing softly along with him.

“Is that what your giggle laugh sounds like? Gotta say, that’s pretty cute, Lo.”

Logan huffed, biting his lip as he started up at the ceiling for any sort of distraction from the insistent tickles on his sides.

“N-no,” he insisted through stifled breaths. “Not cute.”

The tickles stopped, and Logan found himself gasping for breath, even thought the tickles had been nowhere near intense.

He craned his neck, about to ask why Virgil had stopped, but the total stillness of the emo side made him falter.

“Excuse me?” Virgil’s voice was measured, like he was giving Logan a test.

“I--”

His voice cracked, and he hastily cleared it before continuing, “I am not-- that is an unprofessional and, and, and childish trait, um--”

Virgil suddenly dipped forward and pressed a kiss right below Logan’s bellybutton. The sudden attack made Logan’s entire body jerk in response, a wholly embarrassing squeal escaping from his lips.

Virgil smirked against the skin. “That was a pretty cute noise.”

His lips grazed Logan’s lower stomach as he pressed another kiss against his belly, forcing a barely-stifled whine out of the other side’s mouth.

“Your face is an awfully cute shade of red right now,” he continued, peering up at Logan with a look that made him want to dig a rather large hole in the ground and stay there for several hours. His hands came up to cover his face, groaning through his shaky laughter.

Virgil suddenly placed several more feather-light kisses against one spot just above his hip bone, making the logical side jerk his torso away on instinct.

“And that smile? That little smile, the one you can’t even try to hide because you’re too giggly?” As he spoke, Virgil reached up and gently pulled Logan’s hand away from his face, and sure enough, Logan was laughing too hard to focus on hiding his wide smile or blushing cheeks anymore.

“Logan, if you don’t think you’re cute, you need to get some new glasses, because I can say, objectively, you are very cute.”

“Stahahahap!” Logan cried. “I’m nahahat-- not cute!”

Virgil hummed in consideration before shaking his head.

“No, I think I’m gonna stay right here until you admit how cute you are.”

With that, he began slowly working his thumbs into Logan’s abdominal muscles, rubbing gently yet firmly into his lower stomach, and all the while his fingers continued their evil rhythmic scratching against Logan’s skin.

Logan cackled. His hands flew to Virgil’s, weakly pushing against his hands without any coordination, but Virgil still took the time to pause his tickling and grab Logan’s wrists, quickly pinning to his sides.

“Nope,” he said. “You’re gonna keep your hands still on the mattress, right? Because you’re gonna let me do my thing?”

Logan whined, nodding without realizing it, and immediately Virgil dove back in.

On and on and on it went. Virgil tickled Logan, and Logan didn’t even put up a facade of a fight, except for the few times that Logan’s hands flinched off the mattress and Virgil patiently put them back. The laughter under his breath was barely audible, especially with how loud Logan knew he was being, but Virgil was leaning so close over Logan’s torso that every exhale felt like sparks across Logan’s already beyond-sensitive skin. He couldn’t stop laughing, couldn’t stop squirming, and it took a downright embarrassing amount of time for Logan to realize... he didn’t want to.

“Do you get it, Logan?” Virgil asked; each word was another stroke of his finger nails across what Logan was certain was his most ticklish spot on his entire body. “Of course you get it; you’re so smart, Logan. You understand everything. And you’re such a good friend. Being so patient. Letting me do this for you. Thank you for letting me do this for you.”

“Go somewhere else!” Logan screamed. He bounced helplessly against the mattress, shrieking when he realized he was only speeding up the pace of Virgil’s fingers by doing so. “Go somewhere else! Plehehehehease!”

“Nah,” Virgil replied, completely unbothered at he took Logan apart with just the tiniest little scratches he could give. “This is more fun. Easier, too. I could keep this up for hours. What do you think?”

Logan was shaking his head before Virgil even finished his question. “I cahahahan’t-- I can’t--”

All of a sudden Virgil’s hands shifted: he was no longer drilling into Logan’s stomach with his thumbs (thank God) but his nails still drifted ever-so-slightly around Logan’s torso. He was even avoiding that one spot on Logan’s sides, which Logan found equal parts suspicious and merciful.

“Would you want to?” Virgil asked. Logan tried to put his scrambled mind back together, but after a few seconds Virgil clarified, “I’m not talking about right now. You’re already exhausted, and I don’t think I’d wanna literally keep this up for actual hours... and, uh, you kinda don’t look like you’d make it that long.”

Logan huffed, his cheeks warming again after the small break he’d been given. Virgil cracked a smile.

“Roman’s basically the expert on this, and even he can’t go longer than an hour,” he said drily. “And I’m not interested in making this some kind of contest between the two of you.”

“I appreciate that,” Logan mumbled. He shifted from side to side, trying to keep Virgil’s hands far away from his more sensitive spots. “But... I understand the appeal, of the... activity.”

Virgil snorted, then again. “Oh, my God, you’re so clinical. It’s pretty, uh... cute.”

“Stop!” Logan blurted, throwing his hands over his face. Virgil laughed louder, and Logan couldn’t find it in himself to be earnestly annoyed.

“Well... if you ever want to... try to understand the appeal even better?” Virgil asked. His fingers trailed within an inch of the spots on Logan’s sides, and Logan shot his hands down, grabbing his wrists and forcing them away with his newly regained strength. Virgil didn’t even fight back. He merely smiled down at Logan, eyebrows raised.

“... I will think about it,” Logan replied, and when Virgil’s grin turned from teasing to triumphant, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling back.

#my posts #my writing #tickling #tickle fic #sanders sides tickling #lee!logan #ler!virgil #prompt #requested on march 5 2020

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pennylanefics · 3 years

Text

Protective - Isaac Lahey

a/n: i finally wrote something!! though i’m not entirely happy with how this turned out :/ i’ve been dealing with writers block and i spent the entire week trying to write this, and still don’t like it that much 🤷🏼‍♀️

•••

Months after the pack got rid of one threat to Beacon Hills, another one came along as if it was the new normal. You found out a few days after the pack found out, mainly because you don’t really like being involved with everything.

Scott stopped you during school one day and told you everything you needed to know. Who they attacked, how they attacked, where in Beacon Hills was dangerous at the moment, and to reach out to him or anyone else if anything happened.

You were doing fine for the time being, but there was one person worried about you. Isaac has had a crush on you since you met at his first lacrosse game sophomore year. He just never acted on it, and kept you around as a friend.

But when there was an attack by the creature on your street, he knew he had to do something to protect you.

A couple nights after the attack, you were fast asleep in your room, having passed out earlier than usual after finishing loads of homework. Isaac had snuck out of Scott’s house and made his way to yours. Since he didn’t want to disturb your parents, he climbed through your window, which was unlocked.

“Oh, you’re going to be in trouble for not locking this,” he mumbles to himself. He makes it inside with ease and breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees that you’re still fast asleep.

He closes and locks the window, kicking his shoes off and taking a seat in the chair across from your bed. His eyes linger on your figure, roaming from your hair splayed across the pillow, to your eyelashes against your cheek.

A smile spreads across his face as he takes you in. He’s never been so in love with someone and the idea that the creature could have come into your house a few nights ago instead of the one down the street terrified him.

Isaac stayed awake for about an hour, reading a book from your collection that you’ve told him about before. When he felt his eyes starting to droop, he marked the page with a bookmark and set it down on your desk. Curling up in the chair, he falls asleep right away.

The following morning, you wake up at around eight in the morning. As you sit up, a small scream escapes your throat upon seeing your friend sitting in your room. This awakes him, making him jump out of the chair, falling to the floor.

“Isaac? How the hell did you get in here?” He stands, fixing his shirt that got twisted from sleeping.

“You,” he starts, walking over to you, “left your window unlocked.” His finger taps your nose teasingly, making you scrunch it.

“I had it open because it was raining earlier and I enjoy the sound and smell of it.” He chuckles and hugs you tightly, resting his head on yours.

“Now the important question: what are you doing here?” You say, pulling back from his body but staying in his arms. His expression falters a little and he lets go of you to take a seat on your bed.

“A couple nights ago, the creatures that are currently here attacked someone in their own home, a few houses down from yours,” he whispers, afraid to tell you that part. You feel a shiver run through your body upon hearing that, and you sit down to let it sink in.

“Well,” you murmur, speechless and a little scared now.

“It’ll be okay. Scott and Derek think they have an idea of who this person is, why they’re here, and why they’re only targeting non supernaturals.”

“So, I’m not even safe in my own home?” Your voice comes out as soft as ever, your mind racing with every worst case scenario possible.

“If you want, uh, I mean, you don’t have to, I can either stay here with you until they’re gone, or you can stay with Scott and I,” he offers.

“I couldn’t stay with you guys, that’s too much, I wouldn’t want to intrude. And what about my parents?”

“So then, I could stay with you guys every other day? Again, you don’t have to agree, it’s an offer I’m willing to make, if it’d make you feel safer?”

You think for a moment before looking over at Isaac with a small grin on your lips. He matches your expression.

“I’d like that,” you respond. “You can stay here whenever you want.”

“What about every night?” He pushes. A giggle escapes your throat and you lean against him.

“Of course.” There’s a pause in the conversation as Isaac fights with his mind on whether to admit his feelings now or not.

“Um, since we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, there’s something I want to tell you,” he starts.

“Okay,” you respond, pushing him to continue.

“I’ve had a small, well, maybe not so small, crush on you since we first met. There’s something about you that just captivates me, and I think you’re incredible.”

He goes on about what he likes about you, what qualities he particularly finds attractive, everything, and by the end of his little speech, your smile is so wide, your cheeks start to hurt.

“How come you’ve never said anything?” You wonder. Isaac blushes and turns forward.

“I just never did anything about it. And Lydia told me that you were interested in someone else at the time, so I didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

“Yeah, that person turned out to be a huge asshole, so it’s an upgrade from them to you.”

“You like me too?” His head whips up back to you.

“Uh huh. I thought it was obvious.”

“It wasn’t,” he chuckles. You smile and lean your head against his shoulder.

“We can’t tell my parents, though. They’ll flip if they find out you’re staying here, in my room.”

“They don’t like you having boys in your room?” He teases. You shove his shoulder playfully.

“Friends, they don’t mind. Like Scott and Stiles are fine. But you? They know I have a crush on you, so if I tell them you’re sleeping here every night, it won’t turn out well.”

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

You two continued talking for the rest of the afternoon, and right before dinner, Isaac went back to Scott’s for dinner with them and to gather a few things.

“Hey, we’re turning in for the night,” your mom pops her head into your room.

“Alright. Goodnight.” She leaves moments later and as soon as you hear her walk back downstairs, you text Isaac that he’s good to come over.

Twenty minutes later, Isaac comes crawling through your window, a duffle bag dangling from his shoulder. Unfortunately, this time he doesn’t do it so gracefully. He slips off the ledge and falls to the floor, his bag landing on top of him.

A groan falls from his lips as you laugh loudly. When he finally regains his composure, his eyes narrow at you and you immediately stop laughing. But moments later, he breaks the act and can’t help but smile.

After changing into a comfier pair of clothing, Isaac crawls into bed with you and pulls you close to his chest right away.

“Is there any new information on whoever’s attacking people?” You wonder.

“Yeah, but it’s late and I don’t want to...frighten you with it. So we’ll talk about it in the morning. I just wanna lay here and hold you and kiss you-”

“You know, you have yet to kiss me,” you mention. Isaac smiles widely and leans down to capture your lips.

“Just like I’ve imagined,” he whispers against your lips.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #daniel sharman #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

Text

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

#gen.fics #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #userjennmish #userdorksinlove #userstarry #tuserari #plantdadcas #offbeattraxx #slipper007 #thisisapaige #lyntracks #deancas #destiel #college au #fic #spn #gen creates

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keijislove · 3 years

Note

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 3 years

Text

This Boy (George Harrison x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! welcome to my first oneshot! a lot of my stories are very plot-driven and they end up becoming these long chapter fics but I'm gonna see if I can make a handful of oneshots in the next little bit to kind of give yous something to read while waiting for the longer fics to finish up. this is my first one, and it's for Georgie!

Summary: It's date night, and you're more than ready to meet your mystery date; George, however, is not.

WARNINGS: Swearing is in almost all my fics, so this one isn't safe either probably, hints of suggestive behaviour, slow burn, friends to lovers, lack of self-editing probably, etc. *This fic is also LONG AF so I would advise y'all to start reading this when you have nothing else to do*

I'll rate this one as a T. Enjoy, folks!

George checked the clock on the wall again and sighed gently.

You were still getting ready.

As much as it disappointed him, George agreed-- well, more like offered-- to drive you to your blind date one of your girlfriends set you up on.

It's not that he wasn't excited or proud of you for getting yourself out there. He knew you'd been meaning to do that since graduating school.

He was just frustrated at the fact that whichever lucky man was going on a date with you that night wasn't him.

When he found out about the date, he immediately vocalized his distrust for the mystery person, despite knowing absolutely zero about him. You seemed heartbroken at that, and to make it up to you, he offered to drive you to the date.

So there he was, sitting on the sofa in the living area of your flat, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

George had taken you to school dances in the past, and while your mother let you wear makeup to them, it never took you this long to apply it.

You were definitely dressing to impress tonight.

"Lucky man," he just mumbled under his breath at the thought of that boy.

You and George had been friends since you were children, and he deemed you his Best Friend Forever only an hour into your first playtime.

You spent your days as children riding your bikes to the park to play, and helping each other with homework at each other's houses every night.

However, that sort of platonic "buddy-buddy" dynamic changed when the both of you hit puberty.

It wasn't until a boy at George's school questioned him if you were his girlfriend, that George realized he had a crush on you. Some of his friends had girl friends, and they were always teased about whether or not they were dating, but this was the first time anyone had put you and George together.

After this discovery, (which he would endlessly thank the young boy who opened his eyes to the truth in the first place) George began to notice lots of little things about you that he hadn't before.

You would run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head during hugs, you never took your eyes away from him when he was speaking; there hadn't been one time to name that you'd ever made him upset or angry, but more or less excited, and free, and joyous.

And not to mention, the way you called him "Georgie" made his heart pound so loud and hard in his chest that he might as well have just completed a marathon...

He was in love with everything only when you were around.

Actually, as awkward as George thinks it is, Paul helped him realize he was physically attracted to you.

The boys were on their way to George's after school, a few years after George realized he had a little crush on you, and the teenagers both caught sight of you watering the front garden of your home at the request of your mother.

George stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his mouth hanging open as he watched you do your thing. After being enrolled in his boy's school, you never had much time to see one another, as much as it hurt him; so he cherished every moment he could see you.

"If her ma catches you out the window starin' at her daughter's arse the way you're doin' right now Harrison, they'll rip your tongue right out."

George's face went bright red, and he turned to look at Paul in horror, slapping him on the arm for saying such a thing. "I wasn't staring at her like that!" But he couldn't help but steal a glance at your behind since it was now the topic of discussion, though he really didn't want it to be.

Paul knew George felt compelled to say something to you, and he smirked as George awkwardly raised his hand to wave as he called to you from the other side of the street.

"H-hey, Y/n!"

You turned around, and grinned at who you'd seen.

"Hey Georgie! Hi Paulie!" You twiddled your fingers at them, and George's stomach churned in jealousy at the fact you had a nickname for Paul, as well.

"Your garden looks beautiful, Ms. Y/l/n!"

Paul stole George's line. He fucking stole his line!

"A-and you look just as lovely as ever!" George added to one-up his friend.

You put a hand to your heart. "You boys make my heart sing." George took pride in your words despite them partially being for Paul as well.

"We need to see each other more, yeah?" George never expected his question to really get him anywhere, but he was wrong.

"Why not tonight? I don't have any homework and my parents are leaving town 'round five for the weekend to visit my auntie and uncle."

George's answer came quick, and effortlessly. "I'll be 'round for six. Sound good?"

"Perfect! I'll see you tonight then." You waved to the boys again, and then went back to watering the garden after bidding farewell.

The rest of the walk home was just Paul making fun of how lovestruck George was with you, and by the time they got to his house, just down the road from yours, Paul looked over at his buddy and smiled.

"No wonder you value your time with your darlin' over there so much, Magpie. Looks like she would definitely be a fine birdie in bed."

George looked over at Paul, eyes wide, and his voice broke. "... What?!" The thought of going to bed with you never crossed his mind-- well, until that moment.

"Hey, her folks'll be gone by the time you go over! You can make your move then! It's perfect!" Paul's words laced with excitement made George feel panicked, and the boy shook his head worriedly after a moment. "M-maybe it's not the best idea to go tonight..."

"Why not? All you ever wanna do is be alone with her!" Paul set a hand on the other boy's shoulder when he didn't answer. "What's up, George?"

"Paul, I've never even kissed her. She doesn't even know I like her like that! What if she likes someone else?! What do I even do?!" Paul was the biggest heartbreaker George knew. He'd had like... ten girlfriends since they met, and he kissed a whole three of them. They didn't last long, much like the fate of other young relationships, but George took Paul's advice as serious guidance; he needed to in a time like this.

"You just need to be calm. Take some deep breaths. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I know you will."

That night, George had many opportunities to dive in for a kiss, or mention his feelings for you; some of those opportunities he even believed you encouraged, but he didn't budge out of utter fear of rejection. George knew for a fact that Paul was going to facepalm when he asks him for details on the visit to your place.

Instead, the night only consisted of talking, and the only contact you made were a couple of hugs and a kiss on the cheek (which left George a stumbling mess again), though you did agree to spend more time together, which is how your friendship lasted so long.

He was so close to having you, and because he was too scared to make the move Paul (and maybe you) were encouraging him to make so long ago, you slipped through his fingers; and since, the thought of not being able to have you that way never left his mind.

Especially not when you were now a gorgeous young lady, blindly torturing poor George, who beat himself up every day because he lost his chance.

You were like a piece of artwork to George. You could be loved, admired, and looked at by him, but he could never hold you or touch you.

And George hated that.

George wanted you to be his girl.

And you were his girl-- well, in a twisted way. You were always with him, smiling and laughing about nothing and everything, holding onto each other in your darkest nights and guiding one another through personal struggles...

But when other boys started to want you too, George wanted to make it a point to keep the majority of them away.

Some didn't heed George's threats and went on to pursue you anyways, only to be turned down on your front steps by yourself. George never understood why you never reciprocated anybody's feelings, but it's not like he was verbally complaining.

And that's what lead up to tonight. George had wanted you for so long, and the sudden knowledge of a blind date had him in shock, especially since this was your very first time giving in and agreeing to go.

It killed him to know some rando was going to appear out of thin air to whisk you away, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and eventually put his hands on you, thinking his love for you is stronger than any other despite knowing absolutely nothing about how you should be loved, and treated...

But George hid his fury from you because you were excited about this date.

And he would do anything for you.

George's rage-inducing, mind-racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut from behind him. He turned his head, heart in his throat, and you stepped into the room.

You wore a lovely high-waisted navy dress, and a pair of black flats. Your hair was half down, the rest coming together at the back of your head by a matching clip-on bow.

As expected, your makeup was quite noticeable. The burgundy colour of your lips and dark brown eyeshadow had George's head spinning, and he couldn't resist ogling at the way that dress fit you so well...

"So… How do I look? Like, if we were about to go on a date..."

A date? Us? We?!

George's palms began to sweat, and his heart did somersaults. If only.

It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging slightly ajar, and after snapping it shut, he swallowed in embarrassment, not daring to look anywhere but your eyes again in fear of falling victim to your appearance again.

Imagine not being able to trust your eyes?

"... What would you think?"

George squeaked, his lips moving hesitantly though he didn't make a sound. His face was surely an embarrassing shade of red, and the longer he waited into answer, the more anticipated you looked for a response.

George rose to his feet and approached you, bravely deciding to give you another good onceover after a deep breath, though he kind of lost all sense of feeling in his legs when you smiled at him with that perfect mouth of yours...

"Wow." George sighed, eyelids falling heavy over his brown irises as he admired you.

"I just... you... wow, Y/n." He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence with the way you were staring at him like that.

God, he was absolutely smitten with you.

Your eyes shone joyously as you placed your hand on your heart, and George, as impossible to him as it seemed, fell so much more in love with you than he was just moments before. Your presence rendered him speechless, and the thought inflated your ego a lot more than you would have expected it to.

George remained silent, but his gaze was still glued to you. He'd looked at you for long enough in his life to probably draw you perfectly by memory, but he still took his time to drink in what he was given; because who knew if he'd ever be able to see more of you than this?

"I... I'm-- I'm speechless, is what I am." He cleared his throat after a moment and said, "I... honestly hope my eyes are doing all the talking for me."

"Aw, you're just a sweetiepie, aren't you?"

You beamed at George, blushing as you took another step toward him. "Well Georgie... if you keep looking at me and sweet-talking the way you are..." your warm words were carefully chosen, and it was obvious that George was hanging into every single word you were saying.

"I may just have to pass on this date and spend tonight with you." Your eyelids fell heavy over your eyes, and you offered George a smile that was suggesting something maybe not so innocent.

"Wh-what?!"

"... I said I'm ready to go." You raised your eyebrow in a little confusion at George's flustered state.

Oh my fucking God she didn't even say that?!

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"... R-right, yes, of course." George shook his head as if to rid his brain of the idea of tricking him like that again. He offered his arm out to you, and you linked yours with his before walking to the door together.

You passed a mirror on the way out, and George caught a glimpse of the both of your reflections, and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He looked so happy to be with you in that moment.

And you looked so happy to be leaving to spend time with another man.

George just hoped at least the reflection of him and you were going on this date together, and both of those smiles were meant for each other.

George pulled up to whatever restaurant this guy wanted to meet you at, which was on the other side of town. George did not approve of this and even reminded you of this on the way there, though you insisted you'd be fine, like you had the couple of times he mentioned this before.

You looked at him after he threw his car into park, and he gave you a little smile after a moment, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You do look beautiful, Y/n. This guy... he's very lucky."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you believe me."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you smiled sadly, and leaned in to kiss George's cheek. His skin darkened to pink beneath your lips before you could pull away and leave the car with another goodbye, though his ears were ringing and he missed your final farewell.

She doesn't believe me...

George waited until he saw you were seated in the restaurant to put his car back into drive, but something kept him from lifting his foot off the brake. He watched you adjust your silverware at your table, and clasp your hands together in wait.

... Maybe George wanted to wait for this guy to show up.

But would he really want to kill himself by spying on you and watching you fall for someone who wasn't him over the course of one night?

That was the question that made him decide to look back, and pull out of his parking space before he could spot anyone even go near the building. He was in drive and speeding home moments later.

The car ride back to his flat was a quiet one. George kept the radio off, and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel the whole time as if he were almost impatient to get home and do nothing.

Every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes stare back at him, it just reminded him that his reflection left that restaurant alone and just as disappointed as his real counterpart.

It wasn't long before George pulled into his building's parking space and sulked out of his car, slamming the door shut. His eyes and nose were burning from the assault of unfallen tears.

He dropped you off to meet this guy. This was all on him this time.

George loved you. He loved you with all his heart, enough to swallow his pride-- sacrifice his happiness for your own.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, dropping you off that night felt like he was letting you go.

And was he?

He pretty much stumbled through the door because his fucks to give for himself were pretty much nonexistent at this point. He kicked his shoes off, not caring if he scuffed up the wall with black marks.

He just wanted to have a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and hide from everyone.

And that's just what he did.

His shower was well over an hour long, and that's where he broke down and cried for the majority of the time. He cried about you, and the situation his own decisions put himself in. He cried in jealousy for the threat sweeping you off your feet right now, and he cried as if that was the last night he'd ever see you again.

When he got out of the shower, well after the stream went cold, he had no more tears to shed. He was dehydrated, and he felt broken. He did a half-assed job of drying himself off before leaving the bathroom and collapsing into bed, only a towel secured around his hips.

His face was pressed into his pillow, and he tucked his arms beneath it and submerged himself even further into the soft fabric.

He recently switched detergent to whichever one you regularly used, and he just took in the familiar scent; anything to make him feel more at home without you actually being present...

George had no idea how long he was in that position for, but he fell asleep like that, only to wake to the sound of the phone ringing.

He got up and stumbled out of his room to ease the obnoxiously loud phone by picking up the call, shouting, and hanging up on whoever decided to phone at this hour-- whichever hour it was.

"Yeah," George rasped through the receiver, his tone laced with underlying irritation. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness.

"George..."

"... Y/n?" He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand before you spoke, but your voice made him freeze.

"Oh Georgie..." your voice was breaking over the phone, and he could tell it wasn't the connection.

"Y/n, my Love, what's the matter?!"

"George he... He didn't show." George's heart stopped.

He didn't show.

George's grip closed tighter and tighter on the phone receiver, and he could feel the pure rage bubbling in his chest, and the plastic receiver crackling from the force under his fingers.

"Where are you?" He demanded. "I'm coming right now to get you," George was about to start throwing his shoes on, despite wearing absolutely nothing to start off with, his towel discarded and still on the bed from when he passed out.

"The same place you dropped me off."

God dammit, this fucking guy had you go to the other side of town just to be forgotten about.

It was finally settled: if George ever found out who this guy was, he'd kill him for doing this to you.

"Don't move. Be there in five." As soon as George hung up the phone, he took off to his room. He was ready in record time: under a minute. Up until the day he died, George wouldn't have been able to dress as quick as he did that night, and he never knew how he did it.

What really mattered was that George got to the other side of town in about five minutes, as he said over the phone.

George whipped into the parking lot and got out of the car. He hurried over to the front of the building to go in and search for you, but he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the curb as he grabbed the door handle.

His grip eased on the lockset, and he slowly turned to you. You were facing away from him, arms folded as you tried to shield yourself from the cool evening wind. You had no clue he was even behind you.

George sighed gently, shedding his jacket off and placing it on your shoulders without another word. He could see your whole body relax from the weighted piece of clothing, and he wondered if his scent was comforting for you too, as it was vice versa.

George heard you breathe out, but you sniffled afterwards. It broke his heart to see you like this. George looked around to see if anyone was watching, because if there was a chance this guy was cackling away in a parked car at the sight of you in tears, George would have had no problem kicking his headlights in and slashing his tires.

He dropped to the curb and sat down right next to you, not hesitating to circle his arm around your body.

At his touch, you curled yourself into a ball, and George scooped you up to squeeze you tight. And against his chest, when you knew you were safe from all harm, you gently sobbed.

George let you cry it all out, and the tighter you held onto him, the tighter he held onto you.

"Am I just unlovable George...? Is that it?" Your words were quiet and muffled, but George heard every syllable you mustered.

He pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, and his grip on your arms were firm, but not tight. "Now Y/n, you do not for one second even think you're unlovable. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." His eyebrows were lowered in anger at the very idea of you feeling unloved.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and George's expression softened. He reached his hand up to your face, and he could feel you shaking. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow again.

George wished then more than ever that he was the one who was supposed to see you. He would have shown up.

"Y/n, you deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I’d make sure sitting alone on the curb, stood up, would be the last place you'd ever find yourself, especially when you were so excited to go out..."

George didn't know where his little spurt of confidence came from, but he was more focused on the words he was choosing to use with you, and what he was all going to say.

"... If I were yours...?" You sniffled again, cheeks and the tip of your nose turning pink and George paused at the sudden realization.

You still had a chance to be his.

And all because that boy didn't show up, he still had time to figure out how he could pull it all off; but it had to be tonight.

He took a deep breath.

"I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you. I just... I sometimes wonder why you were never mine. Why you're not mine..." his voice lowered throughout the sentence, and the end of his confession was barely above a whisper.

You watched George for a moment, lips parted, as if you couldn't believe your ears, and the young man panicked a little, deciding to disregard his last words before it suddenly became the topic of discussion.

"Oh, my Love," George's eyes suddenly saddened as he reached out to wipe away your fresh tears and smeared makeup with his thumb. Your bottom lip trembled at the contact, and he sighed.

"Just because he didn't show up doesn't mean your evening has gone to waste." He stood up and turned to look down at you.

"The night is still young." He then held his hand out in front of you, and you looked at it for a moment as if you didn't know what he wanted from you.

"Y/n... give me one night. Let me show you how a man should always treat you."

He wasn't quite sure if he just unintentionally asked you on a real life date, or if you thought of all this as an act, but even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it gave George the chance of a lifetime to at least pretend you were his, even if this opportunity only lasted one night.

"Please."

You didn't move at first, but George was patient. You eventually slowly reached your hand out, and George helped you up, not making the effort to let go of you afterwards.

George looked up at the restaurant, and did a double take. "... You... you don't even like fancy places like this, am I wrong?" All you could think about when looking at him was that he knew you so well.

"A place like this on a first date is a clear sign he'd leave halfway through and I'd be stuck with the bill." George smiled a little, and so did you.

You wiped your final stray tear from your cheek and George gave your other hand a squeeze. "... I'd rather get a burger and go for a walk, to be honest."

"Then that's what we'll do," George confirmed with a nod. It was settled, then.

George and you strolled to the car, still hand-in-hand, and he courteously opened your door to help you in. He ran over to the other side afterwards and climbed in behind the wheel before pulling out and taking off to find somewhere for you both to eat.

You both came across this quiet burger place downtown, and the both of you were able to get a booth in the back for privacy so you could both scarf down your meals in peace.

George ordered the same food you did, and you both settled on sharing a milkshake together (a single milkshake eventually became two).

"God," you looked around the nearly empty joint before turning your gaze back to George. "Do you know how much more comfortable I feel in here?"

"Even when you're dressed like you belong in a dress shop window?" George smiled around his straw and you matched his grin. "Shut up. At least my hair is brushed out."

The poor guy had no clue until now that he forgot to comb his hair out after his depression shower, embarrassingly clawing his fingers through his locks to at least tidy up the mess on his head.

You just laughed out that you were teasing him, and the joyous hiccups from your laughter had George briefly forgetting everything negative that had happened so far that night.

After settling down a little, your food was brought out and you both started eating.

There wasn't much for the both of you to talk about other than the part of your day when you weren't together, and it wasn't like George wanted to mention what happened to him in the last two hours or make you upset by talking about your night.

Instead you both settled on joking about old times. Before the both of you knew it, George had you giggling and smiling once again before your dessert even came, and when the waitress came around to your table with your two-person cookie skillet, you grinned even wider.

You thanked the waitress before she went on her way, and you looked up across the treat to George, whom you were half expecting to be drooling over the cookie. Instead, he was in a dream-like trance, soft gaze fixed on you, and only you. You weren't too sure if he even knew the skillet was in front of him, he was so distracted.

"George...?" You called to him gently as to not frighten him when coming back down to reality. His response was almost immediate, like he could hear you.

And maybe he did.

"... I'm sorry, I don't know how many times I've tried to say this already tonight but have chickened out, but you look just..." George was examining every inch of you that he could see and you blushed, casting your eyes down to the table.

"Angel, look at me." George reached over the table and rested his hand over yours. You lifted your head to look him in the eye, and he hesitated for a moment. Your full attention flustered him, then again it always did, but he took a deep breath.

"You look heavenly, Y/n."

You said nothing. This time, he had you speechless, but nothing wasn't the response he was looking for.

"Dontcha believe me...?" His question echoed through your brain, and you blinked. George scanned your eyes after giving your hand a squeeze. He knew you had something to say, and he was at the edge of his seat in anticipation for your words.

"... Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I... when you came out of your room tonight I just... looking at you right now, I'm at a loss for words. Heavenly doesn't even scratch the surface. No word exists that perfectly describes how you look to me. Now, or ever."

There was yet another spurt of confidence that washed over George. He had a feeling his words and actions were getting the both of you somewhere, especially when his final sentence had you blushing the way you were.

At least he knew he was doing something right.

George's grip on your hand tightened a little, and he flipped your hands over so your palm was face-up in his. He brought your hand closer to him, and he kissed your fingertips before leaving a final one at the centre of your palm. His eyes never left your red face as he did this, and he grinned against your hand when you offered him a shy smile.

Oh... she IS actually liking this.

When he pulled away, George looked down at the still-untouched dessert, and he smiled, releasing another nervous breath he was holding as he finally let go of your hand. "Let's finish up so we can go on our walk. Sound good, my Love?"

You only nodded before digging in with him, every nudge of his hand against yours reducing you to a blushing mess, and George, who was gaining more confidence as every second passed, would just smile to himself knowing he was successfully turning the tables on you.

But it wasn't yet the time to give in and confess, as much as George wanted to. He still had a nice long walk to woo you on, and then he had to do the important step of walking you to your apartment door at the end of the night, and God knows that was the part he was dying to get to.

You finished your dessert not long after and George payed the bill. After helping you out of the booth, you'd left hand-in-hand again.

The both of you stepped out into the cool night and you looked up at George. "Are you cold? Did you want your jacket back?"

You were holding it in your other hand since you'd taken it off at dinner, and you shoved it in his direction without another word.

He laughed and took the jacket from you, unfolding it and pulling it back around your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm.

"You'll catch a cold without it. Besides, you look better in it anyways." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, smiling proudly to himself when he pulled away and continued to lead you to the car, deciding it'd be smoother to not turn around and gauge for a reaction from you.

Like before, George courteously opened the car door for you, and closed it when you were in. Their destination was his place. It wasn't for the reason one would think, but the idea of driving you to his home and inviting you in with every intention of walking right past the kettle made George's legs restless.

In reality there was a park down the road from his flat that cut pretty much directly to your own humble abode. You'd walked the trail hundreds of times together to look at the pretty flowers growing in the garden, but something told George that this time, like everything else happening that day, was going to be very different.

When you pulled up to his building he raced you to get to your door for the second time of the night; the first being at the burger place when you first arrived. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, and he didn't let go, even after locking the doors to his car and leading you both down the road.

There was a silence that fell between the both of you. It wasn't bad. You took this time to think about your night, as did George. With every step down the road and into the park you took, the smile on your face only grew wider. As for George, he began to sweat with every step he took.

Every foot forward led him closer and closer to your door, where he was going to finally let everything off his chest and confess to you. The problem was that George's confidence was quickly draining, and this was something he needed to do.

He eventually let go of your hand to wipe his palms off on his pant leg, and at the immediate loss of contact, you were turning to him with a confused look on your face.

"Sorry uh..." he breathed out slowly, cheeks dusted pink. "I-I don't know why, but I'm kinda nervous."

Your look of confusion faded into an unreadable one. "Was it holding my hand?"

George shook his head. "No no, not that, I want to hold your hand."

"So what's the problem?"

He just shook his head again. "Maybe it's just... the stress of making sure tonight is perfect for you."

"What?!" Your reaction was sudden, and George's eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead at your exclamation.

"George, tonight has already been perfect for me! I had a great meal, I'm on a lovely walk with you..." you reached out to take his hand again, and he lifted his gaze from his shoes to look you in the eye. You smiled up at him from under the streetlight, and George smiled back a little.

"Georgie, I would never have asked for a better night." You squeezed his fingers with yours and tugged him forward gently. "C'mon, Magpie. Let's get home. It'll be cooling down soon, and I don't want you walking outside much longer than needed tonight."

George followed behind, but you still took your time coming home since the both of you got caught up in another conversation. This time, it was about the flowers you were passing in the park.

"... I used to water those for you, y'know." He pointed to a cluster of marigolds. To think that was ten years earlier and they still stayed put, growing outwards and stronger than ever.

"I used to check on them every day to make sure they weren't dying. You told me one time you really liked those flowers and I just..." he smiled a little at the memory. "I just couldn't get enough of your smile every time you saw them."

You turned to look up at him. You had absolutely no clue he did that for you. It made you love the flowers even more, and your heart jumped a little when you realized that the marigolds were the very reason George insisted you both took the trail all the tine.

"I'll still come across them when passing flower shops. I always think of you when I see them."

"Wow. George, I... I never knew you paid that much attention to me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

And George didn't say anything after that, especially when you didn't respond to his last comment, which he didn't even mean to say.

By the time George could think up a sentence to save himself from friend-zoning the both of you right then and there, he felt like he'd left it for too long.

His heart was sinking, and he tried to shake off the comment best he could, and walked you the rest of the way home.

His stomach was in a knot as he looked up at your apartment building. The front door to the lobby looked intimidating, and his palms began to sweat again. You slipped your hand out of George's, and it distracted him from his racing thoughts.

"You think I'm gonna just leave you here?" His question was sudden, and you blinked once.

"I'm sorry?" You looked from George, to the apartment door which was ten feet away from the both of you. "But George, I'm home?"

"I have to walk you to your door." You laughed at his response, head thrown back as you sighed. "You mean to tell me you, George Harrison, are gonna walk up five flights of stairs in the next two minutes just to make sure you can hear me lock my door and know I'm safe?"

"Would it be a real date if I didn't?"

There was another beat of silence as George watched your eyes shift from left to right in thought. You pursed your lips a little, and then looked him in the eye.

"... Suppose it wouldn't be then, no."

"Then may I walk you to your door, Y/n?"

You finally answered him with a simple nod of your head, and George reached out to take your hand again. He wordlessly led you to the door which he opened for you, and then brought you to the flight of stairs. Nowhere else to go but up.

In about two minutes, you and George got to the fifth floor. As soon as he entered the hall, it felt like the walls were slowly closing together as you both took quiet, careful steps towards the end of the way.

The entire time, your hands were glued together, and no one let go, even when you were both finally stopped, and standing in front of your door.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Y/n. I know you were saying earlier tonight turned out perfect and everything but..." George's brain was still on that platonic comment he made on the walk.

"George, there is no one I would have rather spent tonight with than you. No one."

George squeezed your hand, and then sighed. "I just wish tonight happened under different circumstances."

"Different circumstances?" You repeated a little confused, and the boy in front of you pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Deep breaths. Here it goes.

"Y/n, ever since I found out about this date, my blood has just been boiling with jealousy for that boy. Hell, I still don't even know his name and I could tell you he isn't good for you."

You looked taken aback. Jealousy was definitely not where you thought he was going with all of this.

"I fell in love with you, Y/n. Years ago. And because I feared rejection, I didn't want to take my chances and say anything. But the truth of the matter is that I'd be the happiest person alive just to be able to love you openly. I can't stand to see you cry the way he made you tonight."

Again, you stood there, no words coming to mind to respond with. Your silence didn't make George stop.

"To think for years my feelings for you haven't gone away. I've always thought you felt the same, yet you were never mine." George paused. "When can this boy get you back again, Y/n?"

There was a long silence, his eyes searching yours for your answer, and you were staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

"I-- if I'd known-- I never thought-- George, I had no clue." He could see the lost look on your face, and it made his heart ache, especially when your lip began to tremble and your eyes started filling to the brim with tears.

"Why do you think I turned down every guy who's tried to get with me? I just... I never thought you'd love me back, Georgie." His emotions sank into a deep dark guilt. All this time, and you felt the same way about him...

And then he blinked.

You feel the same way about him!

George reached out to you, his hand cupping the side of your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your tears began to fall, and he pulled you into his chest tightly for a moment. "My Love," he mumbled, pulling away just far enough for him to see your face again.

"Oh, even when you're crying, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on..." There was a beat of nothing; just the sound of shallow breaths shared between the both of you before George began to inch in slowly towards you.

"... George, what are you doing...?" Your question was gentle, and you didn't stop him from coming any closer. You didn't want to stop him.

"Something I should've done a long time ago."

His attention fixated to your mouth once before your lips finally clashed together.

For over a decade, George had waited for the moment he tasted your lips; and now that it was here, he was almost scared he wouldn't know what to do.

The both of you were holding your breath since you both felt a little unsure at first, but it was a given, he was kissing his childhood best friend, and you were, too. You kissed back a little, and George exhaled lightly through his nose, a little relieved knowing you were getting a little more comfortable with the situation.

George's hands fell to your waist, fingers curling around your body as he eventually pulled you even closer. You parted your lips a little, and he bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away after hearing you gasp.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm--" George could barely rush an apology out before you pulled him down to kiss him again, and pushing him backwards until his back was flat against your door. He watched as you closed the space between you again, and your lips were on his again.

His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and all the boy could remember thinking about was how blissful it all was in that moment. George threw his arms around you and started pushing back just a little.

You pulled away from him to gasp in a breath, George's hands grabbing your arms and pinning you against your door so he could put you in the place he was moments before; to give you the moment to experience just a fraction of all the love he would be able to eventually give to you.

His lips briefly found the crook of your neck and you moaned quietly as George sucked at your skin a little, which only resulted in him pulling away just to lean back in to kiss your lips and swallow your pleasant hums.

You eventually pulled away to face him again, lips swelled and pink, and breaths quick. You never thought you'd have so much trouble breathing while kissing someone.

Then again, it's not everyday that the man you're kissing is George Harrison.

"I know it's rare to ask this on a first date but..." George leaned down to attach his lips to the column of your throat, and he hummed against your skin when you moaned gently, delaying your question for a moment.

"... Did you maybe wanna, I don't know, come in, stick around for some tea?"

"Is that even a question?" George asked lowly against your neck, and you smiled. You reached into your purse to retrieve your apartment keys, which you blindly stuck into the keyhole since George was back to kissing you again, and the both of you stumbled through the door as soon as you got it open.

You and George kicked your shoes off after shutting the door, and you pushed him up against the wall in the front corridor to kiss him once again.

Ten years was way too long for the both of you to be deprived of one another any further, and George gladly let you migrate your lips to his neck after a moment, tilting his head back for you to make things a little easier.

With your head buried into his neck and your arms circled around one another, George lazily opened this eyes to watch himself in that same mirror across the hall he looked into a few hours prior.

All the boy could do was smile to himself, breathing heavily as he watched your reflection switch to the other side of his neck after leaving a mark on the right side of his throat.

Not only was his reflection successful in this date tonight, but George himself pulled off the biggest risk he could imagine and it paid off.

He finally got the girl of his dreams.

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

A/A/N: honestly, this fic lives rent free in my head and it has been since I wrote it, so I gotta show it off to y'all. Again, I know it was long, but I really hope you enjoy it <3

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@rogermeddow

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#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #paul mccharmly

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peachhcs · 4 years

Text

Love Languages

Pairings Luke Patterson x reader

Summary Luke asks the reader what love languages are.

Warnings none but fluff :)

Word Count 1.8k (short I know but I'm working on it)

I haven’t really written on Tumblr before so don’t judge too harshly because there’s some insanely talented people on here who might judge hahaha. (hopefully not though) I don't know what the boy’s love languages are so I kind of just assumed based off of what we saw but I did see somewhere that someone said Luke’s was touch so I just went with it.

Gif is not mine so credit to the owner! I don’t know if anyone has done this idea before but I kind of like it because it popped into my head last night. Anyways, enjoy!! :) p.s. I sort of left this on a cliff hanger but idk if i’m going to continue it or not hahaha

PART 2

* * *

You were seated peacefully on the couch as you worked away on your laptop while listening to Julie and the guys practice a few songs for this weekend’s upcoming gig. You always loved listening to them practice, they sounded like absolute angels and you would never get tired of listening to them. However, Luke thought you should be doing your homework somewhere else because he didn’t want them to be distracting to you but truthfully, you really didn’t mind. If you were being honest, it actually helped you focus and the music didn’t let your brain wander.

You glanced up at the group after realizing they had stopped playing. Julie met your eyes with a warm smile, already reading your mind,

“We’re just taking a break. I got to catch up on some homework.” Julie explained to her best friend. You nodded in response, smiling slightly as she went back to work. The boys were talking amongst themselves over by the piano, using hushed voices so whatever they were talking about you or Julie couldn’t hear.

By some weird magical notion, you were able to see the boys even when they weren’t playing like Julie could. They haven’t been able to figure out why yet, though. Why you could see the guys but their other best friend, Flynn, couldn’t. Or why Luke’s parents couldn’t see him either but you still could. It was all just one big mystery they were all still unravelling. They had a theory that it had something to do with their unfinished business and the connections they all shared with one another, but that was yet to be explored with you and the boys. Julie and the boys sort of figured out how they were connected, but they hadn’t gotten that far with you yet.

Julie made an attempt one time to suggest that maybe it was because you were so close with Luke ever since you guys met, the connection just helped you see all of them, but you chose to deny that theory. Especially when Julie threw the word feelings into the mix. Julie knew all too well about your “little”crush on the lead guitarist. There was no doubt that she caught on to it right away when the pair first met and hit off right away. From there, she proceeded to question you about it once they went back to her room. Of course you denied, denied, denied, but after awhile you finally gave in and agreed to your best friend’s observation. Julie saw all the looks that you two exchanged and she knew very well about the boys talking about you here and there. It was just a matter of time until one of you finally broke and admitted your stupid feelings for one another.

“Hey..Y/n?” The cautious voice made you glance up from your computer, first looking at Julie thinking it was her who called your name but then turning your head to the boys who were glancing at you with quizzical looks.

“Yeah?” You ask glancing at Luke since he was the one who spoke up. You watch as the boys exchange a glance with one another and you push your eyebrow up in confusion. You meet eyes with Julie for a moment who was now looking between the boys and you just as confused as you were.

“We have a question.”

“Well, Luke does, but we’re curious too.” Alex cut in before you could respond. You chuckle slightly at their visible nervousness about what they wanted to ask.

“Okay, shoot.” You gave them your full attention, pushing your computer screen down and a small smile sat content on your lips. Julie also gave them her full attention too, because she was equally as curious as to what they could possibly be asking you.

“What..what does love languages mean? We heard you and Julie talking about it yesterday..” Luke’s asks softly. Oh. That was what they were asking..Your face goes a little red at the thought of them hearing your conversation yesterday since it started out as band schedule and then led into your crush per usual. You glanced to Julie for help who only shook her head with a quick shrug.

“They asked you, not me. Take it away, sister.” Julie laughed and your face went even redder. It wasn’t an inappropriate question or anything, you just didn’t really know how to describe it. Or because it meant talking about feelings and relationships which was something you didn't really want to get into with them, especially Luke.

“Uhh.. well.. I guess it’s a certain way somebody likes to express their love for someone. There’s different types of love languages like um, touch, words, gifts, spending time with that person, and doing nice things I guess..” You trail off slightly while scratching the back of your head, feeling a little flustered.

“What do you think my love language is?” Alex asks excitedly, not really to you but just to anyone who would answer him.

“I see yours being affirming words or something like spending time with them. You always love it when someone compliments you and reassures you if you’re having too much anxiety about something.” Julie cuts in with a smile and Alex points to her to say she was correct. Julie chuckles and you do too.

“Reggie, yours would definitely be gifts or like spending time with people. You always like to hang around Ray and stuff.” You say glancing at Reggie who smiles warmly at your statement.

“What about me?” You met eyes with Luke who was softly looking at you. You avoided Julie’s burning gaze into your head and Alex and Reggie’s small smirks as they waited for you to answer. You flushed again, looking to Julie for help who only shrugged. They both knew you knew the answer, that was what you guys had been talking about yesterday.

“I’m..I’m not really sure..” You lied and you hated the small hint of disappointment in Luke’s eyes. You quickly looked away and started to reopen your laptop.

“Hey, I’m hungry, I’m gonna grab some snacks. Y/n do you wanna come with?” Julie asks making an escape for you to avoid the now awkward tension in the room.

“Yeah. Yeah.” You were quickly nodding your head and jumping up from your laptop. You didn’t even wait for Julie as you made a beeline for the garage doors and pushed them open, hurrying up the pathway to Julie’s house.

Julie exchanged a knowing glance with the boys, reading Alex and Reggie’s glances before following after you saying you’d be back in a minute. You were pacing around on the patio when Julie finally got to you. She raised her eyebrows slightly trying to read your thoughts.

“Y/n, why did you lie? That could have been the perfect opportunity to tell him how you feel.” Julie says and you shoot her a small glare.

“Julie, he doesn’t like me like that. I just didn't want to embarrass myself but I guess I embarrassed myself even more by saying nothing.” You admit, slowing your pacing to look Julie in the eye. She lets out a small laugh.

“I don’t think you embarrassed yourself. You were just flustered which is understandable, but I say go for it. You never know what can happen. The Y/n I know doesn’t back down from a challenge either.” Julie puts a comforting arm on your shoulder and you were thankful for it. You squeeze her hand in response.

“Thanks. I don’t know, I guess I’ve just never felt this way about someone before..” You trail off and Julie squeezes your shoulder even tighter,

“Look, I get it, it’s scary, but you can do it. Think of this as me encouraging you to talk to him like you did for me and Nick. Just go for it. Have some confidence.” Julie winked at you and you chuckle at her actions.

“There’s the Y/n I know. Now come on, we still need to get snacks. I gotta make my lie somewhat believable.” Julie nudged your side before making her way inside as you followed after he with a laugh.

The two of you walk back into the garage a few moments later where the boys met your glances. Luke was now moved onto your spot on the couch while Alex and Reggie hung around by the piano still. You rolled your eyes that Luke took your spot but at least he was gracious enough to move your computer. You walked over to him where he smirked as you made an attempt to move him out of the way.

“Get out of my spot.” You tease trying to move Luke out of the way again but he didn’t budge and instead kept holding that smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes so you instead took a seat beside him and grabbed your laptop from the coffee table.

“I’ll move if you tell me what you think my love language is.” Luke says and you quickly met his eyes. You glanced at Alex, Reggie, and Julie for a moment where they only shrugged. You huffed under her breath knowing you had no way out of this now.

“I don’t know.” You say simply trying to get off of the topic but Luke kept pushing. He leaned in closer towards you and you could feel his breath on your neck.

“I think you do..” Luke says and you meet his gaze again. You purse your lips together before glancing back at your computer for a moment.

“Touch.” You say plainly and simply. You refused to meet Luke’s eyes as you furthered your answer, “I always noticing you touching Alex or Reggie in one way or another. Whether it’s something small or a hug or just a reason to touch them. It’s sweet.” You finish a small smile on your lips as you opened the tab you had been working on previously. A comfortable silence filled the room and you felt pretty content with your answer. It wasn't as bad or as embarrassing as you thought it would be. Luke was silent beside you and you were afraid to look at him so you just kept her gaze on your computer.

You didn’t actually know if you could touch the boys, you just assumed you couldn’t because Julie was the only one with the real special powers. You had just been randomly gifted parts of them somehow. You all just walked around each other because the guys found it slightly weird to just walk through people they knew. Luke stared at you beside him and he wanted to at least try. If anything, his hand would just fall through like it did with everyone, so slowly and carefully, Luke reached out to turn your chin so you would look at him. The guys raised his eyebrow at his movements and then, he touched you.

You felt his hand under your chin and you both did a double take. Luke quickly pulled his hand away in surprise that you actually felt that. The two of you exchanged a wondering and surprised glance.

“We just touched..”

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson x y/n #love language #love langauges #japt #japt luke #japt alex #japt reggie #fanfiction #fluff #reggie jatp #alex jatp #willie jatp #flynn jatp #Luke Patterson imagine

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder.

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks.

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved.

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted.

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded.

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?”

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed.

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet.

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried.

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there.

“Woah...” you almost lost balance.

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job.

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars.

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.”

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)

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