#maybe its been a week and a half who are you to judge
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Jamie Tartt*Famous
Pairing: Jamie x reader
Word count: 1841
Warnings: mentions of football related hate but nothing graphic, angst/breakup but everything’s happy by the end
Masterlist Here
Dating a famous footballer was not exactly something you’d ever planned on. You were never into football especially when you saw what it could cause. You remember being five years old crawled up crying as your relatives gathered round the television shouting and swearing because their team missed the penalty. Then you got older and found out the even worse things some men did because of a missed kick.
But somehow you ended up dating ‘the’ Jamie Tartt. Though you didn’t even know who he was when you met him. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl both sitting alone in a bar. Jamie had been nursing a pint for an hour when you came in and his jaw about dropped. However, he’d sworn to himself when ted told him last night, he could come back to Richmond he’d fix his act so he didn’t pounce like he usually would.
“Can I get a vodka lemonade please?” He heard you from across the bar and he could practically hear the sweetness in your voice.
The bar however gradually got busier and when Jamie returned from the bathroom, he realised there was only one seat left and it was next to you. “d’you mind if I sit? Just someone stole my seat,” he asked, suddenly realising how nervous he was for no reason.
You turned around and smiled at him before nodding to the seat, “Yeah sure. It’s pretty busy,”
“Tell me about it. Hate crowds sometimes. Make my head feel all fuzzy,” he smiled at the way you giggled not even caring if you were laughing at him. “Watcha want?” He asked after ordering his own drink and you hesitated for a moment, “Cmon, no strings or nothing. Just a drink. Vodka lemonade maybe?”
You laughed lightly and nodded, turning to the lady, “Yeah one of them please,” you turned back to Jamie as she worked on your drinks. “Its nice to meet you…” you said, words trailing off till Jamie finally realised you were asking his name.
“Jamie,” he said, sticking his hand out for what turned into a half awkward half laughy handshake that then turned into you both chatting till last call and Jamie walking you home.
-
Somehow his job hadn’t came up. It was partially because you had made a joke about hating football on your second date but also because Jamie was enjoying the normalcy of it all. Even if it meant when he spotted a paparazzi, he would very suddenly drag you away to a random shop or restaurant, putting up his hoodie to ruin their shot.
However eventually he had to tell you. He hadn’t put his hood up quick enough and their plastered on a magazine was Jamie holding your hand walking through London. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, staring at yourself on the magazine in shock.
“You never asked?” He offered with a sorry smile, “I wanted to love but I just,” he sighed, “I didn’t want you to judge me or that. Cause I really like you,” he reached out to take your hand as you both sat on your couch.
You gave him a small smile, stroking your thumb over his hand, “So is this something that happens all the time? Pap’s following us around? Do people come up to you in the street and stuff?”
“Sometimes,” he shrugged since to Jamie this was just life, but he didn’t know at this point what was normal, “I mean like they’re pretty easy to ignore most the time,”
“Its just weird. I mean I’m on a magazine,” you said, eyes wide as you gestured to the glossy paper, “I never thought I’d end up being just some WAG,”
Jamie scoffed, “Babe you’re way more than a WAG,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulder, “You’re my girl. That is if you’ll still have me?”
“Of course, I will Jamie. It’ll just take me some time to get used to,”
-
However now the press knew you existed the paparazzi weren’t exactly easy to ignore. It was one thing being followed around with Jamie but one of them was waiting outside your work last week asking if you were another fling or if the pregnancy rumours were true. His comments sent you into a complete spiral with Jamie coming over to try comfort you.
“He was just rude Jamie,” you sniffled into his chest.
“I know baby,” he tried to comfort you as he stroked your back, “It’ll be okay. You get used to it really and they’re not all that bad. Promise,” he said as he kissed the top of your head.
“I just wish,” you sighed, “that you’d told me in the first place,”
“What difference would it have made?” Jamie asked however your lack of response made him worry as he pulled back to look at your face, “Would you have said no? When I asked you to be my girlfriend. Would you have said no if you knew?”
You opened your mouth to speak but you struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know,” you managed to choke out, “I just don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m not good with attention let alone paparazzi following me. I never asked for any of this Jamie,” you began to ramble. “I like you I really do. But it’s a lot, okay?”
Jamie sighed however he almost cried when you pulled yourself out of his arms, “I like you too, but football is my job. It’s my life,”
“And I would never want you to give that up,” you said instantly, reaching for his hand, “Maybe we should just take a break? That way I can I don’t ease into it? Or like I don’t know just wrap my head around it,”
Jamie felt himself freeze in his seat. He nodded slowly before standing up, “Okay if that’s what you need,”
“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am,” you said, standing to follow him as he headed for the doors.
Jamie nodded once more as he reached for the handle, “Its not your fault. I should’ve told ya,”
“Jamie,” you said but he’d already opened the door. “We aren’t over its just…”
“Just a break,” he said, nodding his confirmation before walking out the door but you felt your heart shatter as the door shut.
-
Even though the paparazzi had stopped, and two weeks had gone by you still felt absolutely awful. You hadn’t seen Jamie in real life but suddenly you were seeing him on the news and his name on the back of kid’s jerseys. You began to wonder if it was for the best but every reminder of him stung.
Neither one of you had texted the other. You’d not heard from him at all since you left. Until yesterday when you got an email confirmation from Richmond fc with a ticket reserve confirmation in the buyer’s box under the name Tartt. The game was tomorrow, and you spent the whole day and yesterday debating if you would go. Eventually you decided not to.
-
However today when you woke up the first thing you saw was an article about the match going on today. Richmond was playing some team you’d never heard of but then again you only knew who Richmond were because you lived a 15-minute walk away from the stadium. The game was supposed to start at twelve. As your eyes fell to the clock that read 10:48 you finally made up your mind.
You’ve never gotten ready so quick in your life and you were practically running out your flat at 11:35 and half sprinting to Richmond. However, you had no idea how to collect the tickets and the ticket man at the counter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so you just bought a seat instead.
You were ushered inside alongside hundreds of rowdy football fans decked out in Richmond gear. You did your best to find your seat and thanked the gods when you saw it was at the end of the aisle. It was three rows up from the front and you quickly realised right next to the thing the footballers came out of.
You felt your smile almost split your face when you watched Jamie walk out of the tunnel in his uniform, but he didn’t see you. As they turned to wave to the crowds the whole crowd jumped up so there was no chance, he heard you screaming his name alongside everyone else.
As the game started you actually found yourself enjoying it as you screamed and cheered alongside the football fans as Jamie scored another goal. It was 2-2 thanks to Jamie and you’d never felt prouder. “Cmon Jamie!” You screamed but you weren’t even the loudest as he ran down the pitch with the ball.
He passed to another player. Him to another. Back to Jamie. Now to someone up the field and then, “GOAL!”
The crowd began to cheer and a few seconds later the final whistle rung. Everyone began to jump up and down and you quickly joined them as you jumped up clapping as you did so. The team were all smiles, well apart from a really big hairy guy, as they headed for the tunnel. Jamie however wasn’t smiling as he wore a look of concern.
Your eyes however were locked on Jamie. He however was looking up at the buyer’s box waiting to see you. However, it wasn’t until his eyes fell, thinking you were officially over when he saw you. His smile suddenly appeared, beaming brightly as he stopped in his tracks.
“Woo!” You cheered, clapping even harder. You could never quite predict Jamie. No one could. Not even Jamie thought he was going to do what he was about to do.
He ran for the stands, throwing himself up and climbing over the wall. The crowd was going mental, but your cheers stopped but the smile on your face didn’t as he ran up the stairs, ignoring the fans trying to pat him on the back.
“Hey,” he breathed out with a wide grin.
“Hi,” you giggled right back at him as you stepped forward. You could hear his team yelling at him and a ref coming but neither of you cared as his arm wrapped around your back and his head began to dip.
God you’d missed these lips. Your hand went to the back of his neck as the crowd whooped and hollered. Jamie pulled back as a ref rang a sharp whistle in his ear. “Call me yeah?” He said just before the hairy guy from his team pulled him halfway down the stairs.
“Yeah sure,” You laughed as he was forced back down the stairs and out the tunnel, somehow only receiving a yellow card. It may not be how you planned it, but you were certainly never gonna let Jamie go again. Youd already made that mistake once.
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#ted lasso#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso fluff#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tart x reader#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt fluff#jamie tart fluff#jamie tartt angst#ted lasso angst
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I know this post is only for like two people, but I’m going to make it anyway. So, my obsession with Dead Friend Forever finally reached critical levels and I resorted to binge-watching The Hidden Character just to get more content. For those that don’t know, The Hidden Character (which they literally call “THC”) was the reality show Be On Cloud used to cast DFF. It is bad. Like really bad. And not in a it’s-so-bad-it’s-good-type way. It’s one of the most exploitative pieces of media I have ever watched. I walked into it with a favorable view of BOC, Mile, Apo, and Pond (the CEO), and walked out of it hating all of them.
A small collection of things that happened over the 11-episode run:
Everyone was told that they had to share every single aspect of their life with the viewers or they would be eliminated. And, in fact, the first person eliminated was told that it was because he wasn’t being open enough with the audience. They filmed these boys—one of whom was only seventeen at the time—talking explicitly about their sex lives. Which is, of course, fine to talk about. It’s not fine to air it on television! Even some of the games themselves contained sexually suggestive content (i.e. Which do you prefer "eating" with—your hands or your mouth? If you were to cheat on your significant other, would it be just sex or a full-blown affair?)
During the first part of the show, everyone had a secret that the other players were supposed to guess. One of the player’s secret was that he used to be homophobic. (Questionable casting for a company that only hires men, but I digress). He was praised for having changed his mind. In contrast, JJay’s secret was that he was raised in an abusive household and had once hit his father. Pond crucified the poor guy for this. He made him sit there in front of the whole cast sobbing and apologize for hitting his dad who was an abusive asshole.
After the first half of the show—which served absolutely no purpose at all—we finally move onto the acting portion. This is, after all, supposed to be a talent competition. The judges were so mean. Especially Apo. He was like the Simon Cowell of BOC. There was no constructive component to their criticism. The fact that any of these people are still acting is honestly unbelievable. I would have gone home and cried myself to sleep and then never stepped foot on a stage again.
At one point, each of the groups was assigned a scene from KinnPorsche to act out (because BOC very clearly owns no other IP). One of the pairs was given the scene where Porsche gives Kinn a handjob in the bathroom. I wish I was kidding.
The judges constantly told the contestants to make their scenes feel new and different but any time the actors actually tried to change anything, they complained it was “too” different and the original script was already perfect so who were they to think they could create something better. Once again, Apo and Mile, the original actors of these scenes, are the ones judging them! Like of course they like their version better. What is even happening??
And finally, the whole fucking thing was rigged for Ta to win. Like don’t get me wrong, I love Ta and I think he did a great job, but he was the only one who came into that competition with a built-in fanbase and the winner was chosen by popular vote.
It was all just…baffling. Especially from a company that claims to be trying to change the industry. Like if you want the industry to stop being so exploitative to its actors, maybe start with yourself? It also makes those condescending “how dare you watch our shows just for the NC scenes” press releases they do every week even more annoying.
I have no clue what the reaction to this show was while it was airing but god I hope they never do it again. It literally makes me feel so weird watching DFF now. I feel like those poor kids are being held hostage. Maybe CEO Pond’s been the one under the mask the whole time 🔪
#y'all help#did anyone else watch this or was it all just a fever dream?#the hidden character#dead friend forever#like don’t get me wrong I will continue to watch dff because i’m obsessed#and because i want to support these actors and what they were forced to go through#but idk if I’ll be watching much from boc after this
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white bandages (the process of healing) | simon "ghost" riley
part 2 to this fic. I will very likely have a part 3 to wrap things up.
—tags: tw blood, ghost + therapy, mild angst, fluff too
—running out of pictures to use of this man so this is an edit by @ave661
Fluorescent light falls over an unmasked face. It highlights every ridge of every scar, his shorn stubble, his pale skin. When was the last time Simon Riley took a good look in the mirror? He can't remember— there are many things he works hard to avoid, and his own name is scribbled at the top of the list.
That first night without you, he finds himself in front of the mirror and half expects to see a ghost staring back at him. A corpse, maybe.
But, instead, he sees a man who lives and breathes. A man whose need for sleep is evident in the grey blotches under his eyes. A man whose eyes are anything but empty.
I feel nothing.
No—a ghost feels nothing. A ghost would've been able to forget how you looked at him, your eyes wide with the same fear he used to stare at his old man in. But Simon is not a ghost, and he remembers the fresh images with a pain that starts in his ribs and works its way to the pit of his stomach. Burning. It is a pain so unfamiliar that he doesn't know what to do with it—
—so he seeks a pain that he does know.
Pain that bursts in his hand the moment it meets the mirror. Pain accompanied by the splintering of glass as he hits the mirror over and over, and not once does he make a sound or cry or anything of the sort. He just breathes heavily and, once the mirror is not much of a mirror anymore, he looks at his hand and sees the bits of glass and the blood, and - fucking hell - it does nothing to mask what he feels in his chest.
"Jesus Christ."
He sighs.
His breathing slowly begins to settle.
And then he gets out the medical kit he keeps in the cabinet, sits with it on his bed, and carefully picks out the glass from his hand.
He knows how to take care of this wound. Knows exactly what to do to fix it.
But there are some things Ghost— Simon— doesn't know how to fix; wounds that are far too deep for him to reach. And as he wraps his hand up with some gauze, he remembers what you'd said to him earlier that day, so damn caring and gentle, even in your desire to get away from him:
I think you need help. You deserve it, Simon.
------
You loved the snow.
One time, you made Simon build a snowman with you. Well— it was more like you building the snowman while he watched and critiqued it. Your snowman looks like he's seen some rough shit, pet. Jesus, where is his smile? You had pouted through your laughter, nudging his shoulder. You can't judge him for not smiling, Si. Just like I don't judge you for it.
Of course, you ended up with a handful of snow in your hair for that one.
Quite the mouth on you today, huh?
And then he was rolling his eyes and lifting up his mask to kiss you as your hands combed out the ice from your hair, and you swore you felt him smiling against your lips— but you could never know for sure.
You loved that snowy day with him.
But now—
Now you're not sure if you're so happy about the snow you wake up to.
It's been a week of space. Work has been your main distraction, and you know you need to get the fallen snow off your windshield before you can make it there today.
But when you walk out into the white morning with a coat slipped over your pajamas, you find that your car is already being cleared off by a familiar silhouette with broad shoulders and a black, winter coat.
The cold squeezes your chest. Your heartbeat is swallowed up.
Seven days ago, you had begged him for space. Seven days ago, you left his place with defeat thick in your veins.
Today, you're not sure what you feel as you simply stand there for a moment. Your cheeks bitten to pink by the air and your arms crossed over your body. You watch him draw the brush over the hood, so easily, with one hand stuffed in his pocket, but then his eyes are drifting up— up until they land on where you stand a few meters away, and your fingertips dig into the palms of your hands.
He's the first one to speak. A man of few words who leans the brush against your car and utters a simple:
"Hey."
"Hey," you clear your throat, "Um, why are you doing this?”
He takes a step closer to you, but only one. A tentative step that keeps a good gap between your bodies, where faint flakes of snow fill the space.
“I know we are havin’ space right now," he murmurs. Gentle, murky eyes hold your stare. He slips the hidden hand out from his pocket, only for a short moment, to brush off the snow from his other hand, and you spot the flash of white bandages before it disappears into his coat again.
"But I also know you're workin' today so I thought I'd just... make your morning easier.”
"Thanks," your eyes drift to the ground. "But I don't know— I'm not sure if I'm ready..."
"S'okay," he says, gruff yet incredibly careful, a tiptoe over what lays damaged. "I'm not askin' anything of you, alright?"
“Alright,” you say quietly before your eyes drift to his pocket. “What happened to your hand?”
You’re not sure why you are asking him, and you doubt if the truth will even leave his lips. Wounds— over a year with him, and you’d witnessed plenty. Wounds that you only ever found out about when your fingers would graze under his shirt as he fucked you, and you’d carefully ask what happened as you both lay there breathless. Nothin’ worth telling you about, was his usual answer.
But today, with a peppering of snow on his mask and a sigh pooling from his breath, he tells you earnestly, “Broke my bloody mirror, is what happened.”
“What?”
“Look— it’s not important, yeah? There’s somethin’ else… somethin' else I wanted to tell you before you go to work, and I don’t expect anythin’ from you, but I just thought I should tell you.”
“I— okay,” you blink rapidly, still hung up on the mirror part. But you nod your head and shift your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to listen to what he wants to tell you because maybe your heart is beginning to thump firm, expectant beats against your ribs, and maybe there are flakes of hope peppering the defeat in your chest, just like the snow that dusts Simon’s shoulders.
But what Simon has to tell you feels like pebbles in his mouth. He’s not good with words; his failure with them seven days ago is a testament to that. These pebbles sit behind his teeth for a lingering moment, before he finds the strength to push them out between the cracks.
(Perhaps, it’s all your patience and care for even the darkest parts of him that has finally given him this strength.)
“I talked to someone yesterday,” he tells you.
He exhales immediately.
You’re not sure if you’ve heard him correctly at first - there is no way? - but the words hang in the cold air as he stares at you with lowered brows, studying the expression on your face, and your lips part open like a bloody koi fish because this is not at all what you expected him to say.
“Really?” you finally breathe, a lilt of relief catching at the end. “You did?”
“Get it free through the military,” he mumbles with a nod, clearing his throat. “Thought a lot about what you said, yeah?”
Numbly, you sputter again, “You did?” But then you shake your head and rub your arms, “Sorry, I mean— that’s so good to hear, Simon. That’s just… How was it?”
“Bloody difficult,�� he admits in a mumble, and only you, the person closest to him these days, are able to detect the minor tremor in his voice. “But - fuck - I’m gonna keep doin’ it.”
“Maybe it’ll get easier,” you tell him, drawing an arm over your eyes.
“Yeah.”
“I’m… really proud of you.”
You’re not even fully aware of your crying— no, you’re too focused on the sudden warmth that floods your chest because it is now you realize that if there is no worse feeling than watching someone you care for refuse to help themselves, then there is also no better feeling than hearing that help is something they are finally seeking.
And you care about Simon.
You have for so long, even when the agreement was just sex. Even when you'd flinched away. Even when you spent a week distracting yourself from thoughts of him.
This agreement you shared had turned into care. And you care, you care, you care. You care so much that you forget about the space you'd begged him for in this moment that you rush over to him, closing the cold and hesitant gap as your arms wrap around his neck and your forehead presses into his coat.
But the body against you is stiff and unmoving.
Your smile of relief turns into something apologetic and confused when two strong hands gently push you away.
You peer up at him.
"Don't think that's a good idea, pet."
"What?" you exhale, frowning.
He puts his hands back into his pockets. "I've hurt you, yeah?"
"I know, but—"
"I never want to do that again," he murmurs firmly. "Need some more time before I can make that promise to you."
Your heart sinks and floats and tries to swim through everything you feel. You can't discern all the feelings— there's so much. A flood. He's looking down at you as if you are the most fragile thing and as if, even by just getting too close, he might frighten you again.
"More space, then?" you whisper, stepping back.
Where you'd been the one to start it, now you are the one disappointed by it.
The short nod he gives is confirmation, but before you can get too down about it, he allows this: his good hand reaching out to grab yours. He kisses your knuckles with warm, masked lips.
"I care about you," he murmurs against your hand. "So goddamn much."
"I care about you, too."
"I know," and he lowers your hand, carefully rubbing the back of it. "Wanna be the kind of man you deserve. But I need to—" and his bandaged hand lifts up to tap a finger against his temple, "Need to sort through all the shit in here, yeah?"
"Okay," you whisper, nod, and sniffle. "They'll help you with it. You just have to let them in, Simon."
But he doesn't have anything to say to that— his source of words is a bit depleted. This week has drained him in every way possible, visible to you in the bags under his eyes. A squeeze of your hand is the last thing he has to offer before he lets it go, and then he is off to finish clearing your car.
(Although, you already know you will have a hard time getting to work on time this morning.)
#good for him#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#angst#fluff#tw blood
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oddinary house pt 1
cyborg!chan x reader
genre: horror
content warnings: electrocution
word count: 1.7k
summary: a girl approaches oddinary house, no idea of what would be inside
ODDINARY HOUSE MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
This was a mistake, the young girl thought to herself as she warily approached the dark, abandoned mansion that barely held itself up in front of her. Metal railings that would have once protected this home were bent and twisted in all sorts of different directions, like someone had once fought to escape the place. Or maybe it was to stay inside the grounds that were overwhelmed with weeds and ivy running up the sides of the building. Yet, despite it's unwelcoming aura, there were some signs of life, such as the electricity running through the red neon sign that said 'Oddinary House'. Albeit was flashing, she at least knew she was at the right place.
It was a mysterious predicament she had found herself in, yes. The letter she had received a week ago inviting her over for the week leading up to Halloween had been very convincing. There was promises of permanence her childhood home had never given her. Sentences that enticed her into the feeling of safety, which contrasted with the appearance of the mansion, she must say, but hey, she wasn't going to judge a book by it's cover. Quite frankly, she didn't know why she was here, but there was also something in the back of her mind reminding her that she had nothing to lose. Even if she was to never be seen again, she wouldn't mind that. Anything to be rid of the same four walls she was restricted to the whole of her life.
As she approached the front door, she wondered, should she knock? It was completely see through, offering a transparency to the house the girl hadn't expected. They must be anticipating her entrance, the guests of the house who offered her a cleaning job, to fix and repair the house and help restore it to it's original form. She decided, she should knock, with such big responsibility about to be in her hands, it was only right to treat the place with such respect. Yet, as she rose her hand to tap at the door, it slowly opened on its own accord, like it had a mind of its own. There was no wind to explain what had just happened in front of her very eyes.
"Hello?" she called out timidly, wincing as her boots met the creaks of the rotting wooden floors. She'd have to keep an eye out for that.
"Come. Forward."
The girl jumped as the robotic voice sounded from around her. Where was it coming from? It was like it had been tuned into surround sound speakers, and how could they see her?
"You are finally here," the voice spoke again, words disjointed.
The girl turned again to see a... man? Except it wasn't quite a man, it was more like a half man, half robot. A bolt was screwed into his right ear, and half of his face had been invaded by metal plates. His blue eyes mirrored that of which she could only assume was blue synthetic hair.
"Are you... Mr Yang?" she asked nervously, surprised to say the least. She couldn't remove her gaze from his electric blue ones.
"Mr Yang is, pre, pre, preoccupied with other matters," he began, head suddenly jolting to the side as smoke came out of his ear, until he could eventually get the words out.
"Are you okay?" the girl asked concerned, a frown appearing on her face. This was surely no environment for a robot to be in, the whole reception area of the house was damp, droplets dripping onto some open wires. In fact, she was sure she saw the robot flinch when water met the copper plates of the wires.
"I am OK. I am... Not... me," the robot man said abruptly, hands struggling to lift his glasses back on his face. She noticed the open machinery on his arms, embedded into his fingers and running up his arms, acting as joints and muscles.
"Here let me help," the girl cautiously pushed the man's glasses further up his face.
"Thank you. What is your name?"
"Y/N. Y/N L/N. I was offered a job by Mr Yang to work here, in a letter. What's your name?" Y/N explained to the robot, before returning the favour, unable to hide her curiosity no longer.
"My model is CB97, but they call me Chan," Chan nodded rigidly, his answer seeming to have taken longer to load than his other words, like it was the first time in a while he had been asked this.
"Nice to meet you Chan... ummm, what do I do now? I was told to expect a tour of the place," Y/N retold the words she has read in the letter she had somehow misplaced, but she remembered every word.
Unfortunately, the words seemed to have stirred up a malfunction, what the girl could only assume was Chan's anger.
"No. No tour. Wait. Wait here. Then it will happen," Chan's blue eyes glowed brighter. Then his metallic body shifted to stand, a buzzing sound echoing around the room as he slowly but surely approached her.
"Wait here? Is Mr Yang coming here or not?" Y/N asked, now a bit frightened at the cyborg clanking its way towards her.
"Wait," Chan stopped in his tracks, a few feet away from Y/N, as his feet became planted into the floors, like there were outlets that he generated energy from.
"Chan, what is happening?" Y/N asked again, fear filling her from the unknown of what would happen next.
"Welcome to Oddinary House. Take a seat behind you. My name is CB97. I will send you to your room. Thank you for choosing to stay with Oddinary House. We hope all of your monsterous needs are fulfilled," Chan froze in his robot form, blue sparks flying from his body as his mind went on autopilot and he spoke what seemed like a monologue he was very used to. Or perhaps he was programmed to do so.
Y/N was taken aback when she found herself suddenly strapped into a chair as silver cuffs kept her wrists against the arms of the leather chair, her ankles being strapped in against the legs of it.
"Chan? Chan, what's going on?!" Y/N yelled out terrified as she tried to wiggle out of the chair.
His feet were unplugged from the ground, and he marched behind her chair, resting his hands on the sides of her head with an expressionless face.
"Name."
"Chan what is this?!"
"We cannot find that in our records. Name."
"It's Y/N, you already know that!"
"Y/N. Age 20. You are staying in room 143."
"Chan listen to me! Chan?!" Y/N's tears ran freely down her face and she could her them fizzling against Chan's fingers that framed her face as her head was held still.
"Your stay here will be indefinite. There is no time listed."
"CB97!!!" Y/N desperately shouted, and that's when the buzzing that had filled her ears stopped, and the girl didn't know of it was for the better of for the worse.
The clanking of the metal marched once again, Chan, or CB97 standing in front of her, yet this time, he had a red eye alongside a blue one, instead of both of them remaining the same colour.
It was for the worse.
"CB97. Umm, release. Yeah, release! CB97. Release," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to be firm and hide away her shakiness so that the robot would listen to her and understand what she was saying. The metal cuffs were now beginning to feel really tight and the fact that her stay at this building was indefinite, was making her even more scared. Yet, a sad part of her still felt safer being restrained and unable to move in front of an unpredictable creature, than at home with her family.
"Request. Denied."
"No, no, no! Chan, listen! CB97, explain! What will happen now?" Y/N whimpered after knowing that she wouldn't be freed.
"Y/N. Y-y-you, will, b-b-b-be taken t-to your room. You cannot leave," Chan's voice became deeper yet he seemed to be bugging out, and suddenly wires sprang out from the uncovered workings on his arms and they connected to the metal cuffs. Electricity charged into the metal, and Y/N screamed out in pain as she was electrocuted.
"Ahh! Ahh! Stop! Stop!" her screams rang out around the room.
Chan's body was jolting and nearly bouncing in its place as the electricity ran out from his body and be finally shut down, like he was being restarted. Y/N sighed in relief, body going lax in the chair as her body was exhausted from the electricity having been forced into it.
"CB97. Restarting."
"Chan?" Y/N whispered, seeing his eyes shutter open and close before they turned back on, and thankfully revealed his normal blue eyes.
"Y/N. Extreme body exhaustion detected. Cause: electrocution." Chan reported as his eyes did a scan on Y/N's body. "Explain how this happened."
"Chan, you sort of malfunctioned and then some wires came out and got me. You sort of just went... out of control?" Y/N stared at the robot in front of her, and there was a flash of human emotions in his eyes, an almost furrow of the brows.
"CB97 malfunctioned. We apologise for this mishap. Chan will do better. Next time," Chan's head tilted downwards and he genuinely looked apologetic.
"Chan, I just want to rest now," Y/N said tiredly. She could see her frizzy hair out of the corner of her eyes and her arms nearly felt limp.
"CB97 will send you away now."
And with that, the chair started moving quickly down what seemed like a never ending hallway, and as it slowly started to begin to move, Y/N saw Chan return to his space behind the reception desk. It passed through a long hallway, different patchy wallpapers seen as she sped forwards at what felt like the speed of light.
The motions were too much, to the point where Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair. The only semblance she had of where she was, was when she felt the softness of a bed, a blanket encompassing her body. That slight moment of consciousness allowed her to see the door to her room close, a bat flying through the small gap before it did.
What had she gotten herself into?
taglist: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky
#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids#skz fluff#skz angst#straykids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz fic#stray kids imagine#chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x reader#chan x you#chan x y/n#bang chan#oddinary house#bang chan x oc
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Hello! Can I have Percy, Nico and Jason reactions to their ex-lover saving them from impending death at the hands of the cruel monster and catching feeling again for them, when they casually bridal carry them to the Camp? Let’s just say Reader is hella strong and protective person, doesn’t matter their godly lineage. Love complicated relationships, so that why I’m asking!
Ex-Reader Saves the Boys
((Thank you for the request! Love me some angst and fluff so I hope you enjoy!))
Percy Jackson
-This was it, this is how he died. Hanging off a cliff face with no energy to use his powers or even pull himself up.
-He could hear a cyclops laughing loudly as he stomped closer to the edge. Great, after all his work of killing at least hundreds of monsters in this battle and he’d die to a cyclops.
-He debated letting go of the ledge right there. Maybe then his death wouldn’t be to a cyclops.. He… He wouldn’t be able to rest in peace knowing that his brother Tyson, who would never hurt a fly be judged for just being a cyclops. Not again.
-So he does. He lets go. Even though he was falling to his death he felt at peace. But… Then your smile popped into his head. Why was he thinking of his ex now…? Why did his peace turn to regret…?
-He lets out a pained ‘umph’ as he hits something. Not the ground thankfully, but instead he was soaring sideways. There you were, a child of Ares carrying him in your arms on blackjack’s back. His exhaustion gets the best of him and he passes out into your arms.
-He was in a daze sense then, eyes fluttering open and closed in a haze, when they opened he saw you carrying him towards the gate of camp half blood. Even with the scars and the look that you gave him clearly saying ‘I’m killing you myself when you get up’ he couldn’t help but find you beautiful.
Jason Grace
-He was exhausted, staring down a Fury while returning from a quest. He had to go alone, that was the quest rules. But he had been under non-stop monster attacks for almost a week. He couldn’t use his lightning while this tired… Not to mention using it in a public place was just asking for trouble.
- He takes a breath spinning his sword as he gets ready to fight. Honestly, he wasn’t positive that he wasn’t hallucinating but either way it was better to be safe than sorry.
-Just as he was about to charge an arrow went flying by him, turning the Fury to dust before it could even react. Jason quickly turns to see who fired the arrow and relaxes when he sees you. Of course… You were a child of Athena, you'd know the path he’d take to get back to camp.
-He gives a weak smile, going to say something but it falls flat as he crumples to his knees passing out from the pure exhaustion.
-He feels your hands on his side and a faint calling of his name from your voice before he falls into slumber.
-When he wakes up he sees you carrying him bridal style back to camp. He blinks up at you sleepily as you huff and set him down, already at the gates of camp. You carried him this entire way? You were not only strong but terrifyingly smart.
-”Don’t make me worry next time.” You state simply and shove your way past him through the gates. You were ex’s… He broke up with you because he didn’t want you to get hurt… But… Then why was his heart pounding in his chest?
Nico Di Angelo
-He was exhausted, running on maybe two hours of sleep and a Mcdonald's sprite. All while staring down a minotaur.
-It was chaos all around the battlefield, he couldn’t ask anyone for help, not while everyone was fighting just to save their own life. But any skeleton he summoned just turned to ash under the strength of the minotaur.
-It puffs and kicks its leg, getting ready for a charge. He tries to move but he’s too slow and the bull catches his side, taking a small chunk of Nico’s side with him as he slams into a tree.
-He would have screamed in pain if he wasn’t pumping with adrenaline. As the bull is stuck to the tree Nico quickly lunges for his sword, but he falls short. You beat him to it, kicking the sword up from the ground and charging the bull. Sliding between its legs you stab it right in the heart as it roars in pain.
-Nico ends up passing out watching as the beast turns to dust. His last thoughts were of how amazing you were.
-When he wakes you’re carrying him to camp, eyes closed in focus and slight beads of stress as you share the pain between you two. You were kind and amazing… You had carried him this entire way while sharing his pain…? Being this close to death made him realize why the two of you broke up… He’d always focus on the quest, whatever awful thing was happening to the world and never you. Never saw it as your possible last day together… His eyes close again and he finds himself wishing that he’d get another chance with you…
~Masterlist & Rules~
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#pjo x reader#pjo#hoo#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader angst#pjo angst#hoo x reader#jason grace x reader#nico di angelo x reader#fluff and angst#angst with a happy ending
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How about an enemies and lovers. Where hero and Villain are in a relationship despite also being on opposing sides (and neither is trying to change the other to their side)
Spspspsppspspice
Admittedly, the hero didn’t believe in dating for fun. What they did believe in was dating to marry. A lot of their friends preferred the wild opportunity to have a new partner every other week and truly, the hero found it interesting but it was nothing for them. In their past, they’d tried to make even the most toxic relationship work, reminding themselves that things would get better.
After months and years of giving more than they received, fighting more than getting protected, they were so tired of dating that they wanted to die alone.
But then, they got sent on a mission. Met the villain. Someone who was going way too far to protect the people they cared about. Someone who didn’t mind getting their hands dirty to get what they wanted. Falling for them was tedious and complicated but now that they were actually a thing, the hero was happier than ever, talking about marriage and future plans with their partner.
What they did for a living was mentioned but not investigated. They talked about work but didn’t go into dark details. The hero’s plans were none of the villain’s concern and vice versa. Seeing each other on the battlefield wasn’t worth more than a laugh. It was discreet.
So, the total opposite of what was happening right now.
The villain was coming in through the window which was a) unexpected and b) totally unnecessary. As if that wasn’t enough already — the hero frowned as their lover nearly knocked over a vase — blood was smeared over the villain’s face. Not the entire face, maybe half of it. The villain looked up, grinned.
“Hi,” they said in a voice that was definitely leaning towards seductiveness.
“Uhm…hi…” The villain looked them up and down and judging by their expression, they were more than happy. No wonder. The hero was already dressed for bed.
“You look good.”
“You look…rough.” The villain’s grin widened and they finally closed the window. Blinds all the way down. Their black boots were dirty but otherwise, they seemed okay, for the hero already knew that it wasn’t the villain’s blood which stained their face. Being excellent at combat had its perks.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t clean up, I just wanted to get to you.” They bent down to undo their shoelaces and slip out of their boots. Even then, they were taller than the hero.
“Missed me that much, huh?” Despite the unusual situation, the hero relaxed. The most important thing to them was the villain’s well-being and that seemed…secured.
The villain took off their jacket with half-lidded eyes still focused on the hero.
“You have no idea…” They walked towards them quickly, as if they didn’t want to waste more time but the hero stopped them.
“No touching for as long as you’re this dirty. Wash your hands first. Face, too.” To the hero’s surprise, the villain didn’t stop smirking, not even when they pretended to be annoyed and rolled with their eyes.
“Ugh, fine…” As soon as the villain disappeared in the bathroom, the hero gripped onto the edge of their kitchen island. Christ, they had never expected this. Truth be told, they’d been worried. The villain had been late but when they’d shown up like this…all in black, sweat and blood on their temple, breathing heavily and smirking as if the hero was the most precious thing in the world…
God, the way their tight shirt had clung to their stomach, revealing the outlines of defined abs…sure, the villain needed to be in good shape to survive their job but they were really overdoing it at times. The hero’s head was burning by just thinking about their lover and what they wanted to do to them but when the villain’s hands actually found their waist, the hero squeaked.
“Followed your orders, sweetheart…” they whispered sweetly as the hero’s heart was torturing itself to death in their rib cage. The hero looked up at their “enemy” and couldn’t focus. Usually, they were pretty confident but all of this had happened quickly enough to catch them off guard. “Now spread those legs for me.”
The hero froze.
“Baby—” They didn’t even notice how their fingers dug into the villain’s shoulders. Neither did they notice how much the villain was into that. “You’re nasty.”
However, the hero giggled. They couldn’t help it.
“Want me to ask you politely if you can bend over?” The hero’s head was on fire and they thought they were gonna explode sooner or later. If they’d known their day would end like this…
“You’re horrible.”
The villain didn’t hesitate. They gave them a kiss. Short and sweet. One hand on the hero’s shoulder and the other still lingering on their waist.
“I missed you. You were so stressed this week,” the villain said.
“Yeah, new supervillain, bla bla bla.” The villain hummed and kissed them again, this time a bit meaner when they actually used their tongue. They pushed their knee gently between the hero’s legs which made the hero sigh in content.
“That one with ice powers?” The villain’s mouth was still touching the hero’s as they spoke, not even thinking about stopping what their leg was doing. Using enough pressure to get the hero to the state they wanted them to be in. Killing the stress like they killed their enemies.
“Yeah…” Overwhelmed with all the touching and the love, the hero closed their eyes and seized the villain towards them.
“I killed them today,” the villain said.
“What?” The hero opened their eyes.
“I killed them. I know we’re not supposed to…like, you know, work stuff is difficult but I couldn’t stand watching you work yourself to death.” They picked up the hero and sat them down on the kitchen island. The ecstatic pleasure between their thighs ebbed but the hero was used to this. “And I was a bit jealous. They were taking up too much of your time.”
Slowly biting into the hero’s neck, the villain pushed down the hero’s underwear. All in one smooth motion, while holding the hero at an angle that would’ve sent the hero to the kitchen floor without support.
“I’m sorry I took matters into my own hands. I hope this doesn’t ruin any of the plans you had for them,” the villain said but both knew the hero was thinking about other things right now. They dipped their head back, waiting impatiently for the villain’s fingers to get to their centre.
“Baby…” The hero was slurring.
“You deserve to relax, hm?”
And with that, the hero was sitting on the kitchen island naked.
#ups#writing snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroxvillain snippet#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#an answer for an ask#request#suggestive
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I cannot imagine a reader dealing with a house of villains (plus I miss House of Mouse) the utter chaos
Yes, chaos XDD
Things Y/N Has Said in the House of Villains
Plot: Things you have said in your life as the House of Villains manager. Its a tough life 😂
Warnings: Cursing I guess and some sexual references? Like one I think, I don't know 😅 Also Ratigan is in constant danger and its possible.. i bully... Frollo a little...
"... Slim!? Sli- stop yodelling. What are you doing with that cattle inside?!"
"Y'all need to stop harassing Hook with ticking noises- it is bullying- "
"NO GUNS INSIDE. THATS WHAT WE HAVE THE UMBRELLA STAND FOR."
"... claytons been talking for an hour... i dunno if he realises we've been watching tv. don't, say, a word."
"Hi Cruella... have you seen Scar?"
"Facilier you get off the table or I'm cracking out the sage- "
"... did that shadow just chuckle- "
"Hilda has been in the bathroom for 4 hours straight now and I smell eye of newt coming from inside. I'm growing some concerns."
*Through grit teeth as you continue to just smile and waive* "... hahaha she's cackling... did something funny happen or should we run?"
"Hehehe- put Gaston at Frollo's table."
"-and rule number 6; Do not take your time in the shower. Gaston will yank the door off the hinges, he takes his hair and skin care routine very seriously- "
"Goob please... I beg of you please... please get changed."
"Goob I'll pay you to get changed."
"Goob, I will bring to you an actual unicorn, if you get changed... hades, pain and panic can do that, right??"
"Yes, Ratcliffe, you look very sparkly. Can we leave now?"
"... hey where's Greasy?... What? You haven't seen him since- *Deadpan*... since Mal went to the bathroom?... you know what its his funeral."
P1. *Over speaker* "SMARTASS WEASEL PLEASE COME TO THE FRONT DESK TO ACQUIRE YOUR TEAM MEMBER BACK. HE WILL BE IN CUSTODY UNTIL YOU DO."
P2. *Half an hour after the last announcement* "SMARTASS WEASEL PLEASE COME TAKE HIM."
P3. *An hour later* "WE'RE JUST RELEASING HIM GODDAMNIT."
"Why are there scorch marks on the ceiling again!?"
"Goddamnit Hades we need to work on your anger issues, this is getting out of hand, those were the 37th drapes this week. I liked them, they were purple."
"Jafar's taunting Hades?... Yzma do we have marshmallows still?- Great, you know the drill, stick 'em on the Horned King's head and be sure to set him directly in Hades way."
"So who wants hot cider? I need a headcount. Oh- Hans? ... Well if only there was someone out there who loved you enough to get you some huh? Anyway- "
*Sigh* "... Ursula, you need to stop sexually harassing Hans."
"Don't you dare bring that cauldron in here Your Darkness- that is not a kitchen cauldron, I know what you put in there- "
"Huh... so I just made hot chocolate in Ursula's potion cauldron... slightly concerned for my wellbeing, but this is delicious. Salty."
"OKAY WE NEED TO START LABELLING THE COULDRONS AROUND HERE."
"Why does it smell vaguely of old ham in he- Oh, Horned King. Hi."
"Someone smack him for me."
"Why is Jafar laughing so loudly at FOUR IN THE MORNING!?- "
"Who would you throw off a cliff if you had to?... Frollo?... same."
"... damn he has a good song, though." (Frollo does)
"... yeah, uh, I do the laundry around here... learnt some things, for sure... have you ever put prosthetic skin in the washer on accident?? Its not goo- WHAT! NO JUDGE DOOM! I'M NOT SAYING ANYTHING!!"
"... someone get Tremaine, Lucifer is hunting Ratigan again."
"Silver, just between us... you're my favourite around here."
*Getting a hug from Silver when someone else approaches* "bACK OFF- THIS HUG IS MINE."
"Get your goddamn feet off the table Rourke this is not a barn."
"Oh the hunters are all going on a weekend trip??... How nice, lovely, I hope they have a great time... any chance we can send Frollo with them? Maybe theirs a horrible accident... What? No, I'm just kidding ha ha- "
"NO. NO TRANSFORMATIONS INSIDE. YOU PEOPLE HAVE BROKEN TOO MANY VASES."
"... someone get Maleficent, Diablo is hunting Ratigan again."
"... hey Percy. How bout we put a shrimp on the barbie- OKAY I'M SORRY DONT SHOOT."
"Medusa's name is with an E, Mim's is without- its not that hard!"
"Medusa we've talked about this... Brutus and Nero need to stay outside. Hook will suffer cardiac arrest if he lays eyes on them."
"Oh the oldest here?? Hades, then Mother Go- " *Sees Gothel sharpening her knife nearby* "I don't know really."
"... Why are there so many bugs in he-... ohhhh, someone get me the sewing kit, Oogie has had an accident."
"I told you not to gamble with Oogie... sorry, nu uh, I cant get your belongings back... read the sign sir." *Gestures to a 'no refunds/Oogie keeps whatever he wins off of suckers' sign*
"Sir Hisssss come get the Prince, he's having another tantrummm."
"Did you almost get eaten again Ratigan?... do you want to tell me your evil plans again, will that make you feel better? Wh- in song?? ... Okay go ahead."
"Someone get Ratigan his highchair."
"SHHHH SH SH SH he's not a rat, hahahahahah... we don't think he knows."
"Psycho, put Ratigan and the razor down this instant."
"Nooooooo no no no wait, do not follow her (The Queen of Hearts) orders, do not behead anyone. I just had the carpet cleaned."
"Okay! So what's the entertainment for tonight? Lets see... Oh Scar! He's gonna... he's doing Hamlet?... odd choice... "
"Wh- ... why is Shan Yu smirking? Its very concerning. I'm concerned. Wh- "
"... Okay Shere Khan. Lets level with each other, here. You hate men, I know, but- I cant have you eating anyone here. So I propose a deal. You don't eat anyone... but I can probably slip you a couple of wait staff under the table. you know, the ones hades has already accidentally charcoaled. just between us."
"Stupid you sweet, summer child... "
"Yes, okay, everyone is to be keeping their guns in the umbrella stand. ... but that does not apply to Sykes. Why?? Because I don't wanna sleep with the fishes, okay? Okay- "
"Oh, King Candy, welcome!- Oh, or Turbo??... which would you prefer?"
"No- no- no, strictly no racing indoors- "
"Alright, put up the Out of Order sign on that bathroom- its Wheezy's now. He's been in there half an hour and just breathing in its direction could give you lung cancer."
"... what- NO, YZMA IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN WITH STRANGE VIALS IN HER HAND, GET HER OUT OF THERE- "
#the 'put a shrimp on the barbie' one hurt ME to write but i couldnt not XDD#Disney Villains#Disney Villains x Reader
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lovesick | pedro pascal [4]
"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."
previous chapter: [3]
series masterlist
summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.
pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader
genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually
word count: 10.6k
status: in progress
author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.
"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."
"We had to do that everyday for our last job."
"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."
"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."
"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.
Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.
And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.
But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.
Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.
How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.
The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?
No, that would've been Joon.
Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?
He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:
LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later
That later still hasn't arrived.
Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.
Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.
It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.
"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."
"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."
"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."
"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."
People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.
If they have a problem with that they can sue you.
"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"
"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."
Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."
Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.
Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.
Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.
"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"
"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."
Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.
Ice Skate.
Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?
Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.
"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."
"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.
After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.
If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.
"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.
"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.
Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.
"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"
Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."
Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.
"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."
"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.
One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.
Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.
"Why would you do that?!"
"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."
"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.
Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.
"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.
"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."
"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.
Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.
Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.
"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.
"I always wanted to try."
Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.
Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.
There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.
But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.
"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."
Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.
He did have a point.
"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."
"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.
"No."
Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.
"What would Matt Healy do?"
Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.
Only Pedro used that line on you.
And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.
He wasn't him to be saying it.
"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.
"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."
Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.
Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.
"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."
Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.
Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.
"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.
He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.
"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.
Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"
"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.
He was not going to desert you now.
"What are you girls doing here?"
Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.
"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.
Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"
Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."
Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.
You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."
Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.
Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.
Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?
"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.
"I can just take it with the three of you."
"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."
Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."
Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.
Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.
Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."
You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.
He was shy.
Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."
Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.
"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.
Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.
"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"
Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."
Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.
You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.
"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.
Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.
Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.
"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"
"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.
"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.
He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"
Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."
Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."
Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.
Again, he was being shy.
"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."
Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."
Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"
Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"
"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.
"You kneed her?!"
"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."
"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.
Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."
"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."
"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."
Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.
After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.
To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.
No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.
That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.
"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"
Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.
We all have done it once in our lives.
Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.
Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.
Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.
The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.
Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.
But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.
Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.
Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.
After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.
With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"
"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."
You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.
Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"
Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"
It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.
"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"
Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.
He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.
You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?
"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.
It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.
"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.
Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."
Honey.
No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.
Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.
Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.
"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."
Why the fuck would you slip that out.
"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.
Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.
Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.
Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."
Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"
Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"
"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."
Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"
Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."
Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.
Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."
Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"
Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"
You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.
"With you there's always a reason."
Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."
Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.
"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"
"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.
"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.
After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."
The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.
What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.
As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.
It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.
"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."
She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."
Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.
Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.
Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.
What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.
Oh no, you truly were screwed.
Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."
"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."
You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.
And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.
You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.
Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?
Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.
Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.
"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.
Good, be straightforward.
Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.
Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."
You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.
"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."
"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.
He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.
You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.
"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."
Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.
"What?" he curiously glances down at you.
"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."
Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.
Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.
And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.
Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.
Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.
Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."
And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."
But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.
You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.
Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.
"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.
And handsome on top of you.
Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.
"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.
Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.
"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."
"And I'm tired, deal with it."
Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.
"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"
"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.
You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.
If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.
Doesn't mean you had to talk though.
Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.
Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.
Literally nothing.
And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.
"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"
Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.
Joon would really love this.
Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."
As if that would make you stop your scheme.
Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.
Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.
You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.
"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.
You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.
"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.
Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.
And sadly, he was slowly giving up.
"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."
But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.
Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.
His hand was huge.
"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."
Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.
"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.
He's so warm.
Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"
He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."
You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"
"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.
"And fries?"
Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."
Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"
"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"
With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.
"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.
If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.
"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.
"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."
Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."
Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?
"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"
"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."
Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."
"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."
Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"
"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."
Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.
Shame on you for loving food so much.
Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.
Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.
Or the ducks.
Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.
"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."
Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"
He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"
"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"
"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."
"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.
"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"
"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.
Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"
Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.
Especially thick Mexican ones.
"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."
"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.
"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.
"You mean a veterarian."
Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."
Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.
However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"
Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."
"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"
"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.
Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."
Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.
"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"
Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.
The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.
He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.
"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"
He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.
And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.
Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.
"You did that on purpose!"
Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."
Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"
Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."
Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."
Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"
Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."
"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.
You were wrong, again.
Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.
He sure has one strong grip.
Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.
Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.
Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"
"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.
Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."
Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.
"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.
"I don't think that's how it works."
Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."
"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."
Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.
Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."
Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."
That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!
Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.
Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.
He has really pretty eyes.
"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."
Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."
"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.
Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"
Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"
"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.
"You're worse than me!"
"My car, my rules."
Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."
His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"
Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."
Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."
"It could be a he," you snap back.
He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.
You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.
"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.
He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .
"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.
Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.
Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."
Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.
Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.
Here goes nothing.
"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"
Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"
Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"
"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"
"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."
"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.
Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.
"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.
"Then why?"
He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."
Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"
Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."
"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"
"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."
Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."
This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?
It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.
"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"
"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.
Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.
"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."
Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."
That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.
You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.
"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"
Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.
This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.
Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.
"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.
Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.
The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.
Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."
"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.
"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."
He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."
Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.
"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.
Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.
It seemed like both of you were screwed.
+
taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats @avengersheart @fafik7 @chimchimjiminie16 @adriennemichelle98
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#tlou#tlou joel#pascalispunk#joel miller x reader#the last of us#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal fluff#pedropascaledit#fanfiction
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I'm not one to normally interact with drama, but at this point, I have waited way too long to just sit here in silence. There is a creator on this platform named Hamlet Unfortunately, also known as Kenny, and I can’t just stay sitting on this.
I despise this man for multiple reasons, and I'll get into all of them here. In my opinion, it's not fair that he continues to do this sort of thing and just gets away with it, getting love and attention while doing so. All while other people similar to me get 5 to 10 likes on some of our work. I don't want to spend this entire time just completely thrashing him. However, there’s too much evidence to just ignore.
My friend Dork (@zestfeast ) and I are on a server with another Discord friend (who I won't name for their own sake, I don't want to drag them into this whole thing). I met the two of them on the fan-made Stinky Dragon discord, and we bonded pretty quickly over our love of the characters and our love of the cast. The show was something we bonded over and we wanted to spend as much time together by talking about it, without other people getting in the way. So the third party made a server and invited the two of us. We had a great time for the first two and a half weeks. It was a safe space with all the people that I trusted. We are all afab and personally, that makes me more comfortable as someone who is a cis woman. We talked about all sorts of things mainly relating to our enjoyment of the characters, coming up with AUs, and coming up with stories, all of which were pretty fun. At the time of the start of the server, I was personally barely baby 18, while the other two were and are still minors. This may not seem like a problem, but the problem came when. Kenny or Hamlet Unfortunately, as you know him, joined the server.
He was a friend with the third party and both me and Dork were completely comfortable with him joining. It wasn't our place to choose considering it is the third party's actual server. We sat and talked for a little bit, but after joining he didn't say anything. I didn't think anything of it, I'm also pretty shy but he was just awkward. Once again, I didn't think anything of it but then we started talking more. He started talking more. I wasn't a part of this conversation simply because I was at work at the times he was more vocal. I'm super busy, I work from 3:00 to 7:00 every single day right after school and it's too much hands-on work for me to come and check Discord all the time. A lot of the big conversations would happen when I wasn't there, and while I was currently doing things that took my full attention. I am a custodian worker at a middle school, I'm constantly working around kids, I'm constantly working around other people and it makes it hard to be on my phone. I missed the majority of these conversations, but to make sure that this was fully correct, I made sure to read back to all of the things that he said. It's not fair to judge a book by its cover without fully reading the contents. I read over 600 messages all sent over the course of a few weeks and I'll be dead honest, they were pretty terrifying to read back. Especially someone who has been around victims of the jokes he was mentioning. These included sexual content, drug jokes, and stuff that no person should ever joke about, especially not with minors.
It started simple enough. We just were talking about art relating to the characters and I'll be honest, some things weren't exactly always super family-friendly. We try to keep it light and airy the majority of the time within the server, but we had a few dedicated chats for the not-so-family-friendly stuff that includes some maybe more suggestive fan art. Most of the time it was and is pretty clean. We tried our best to censor what wasn't, especially because we had two minors on the server and people could always glance over our shoulders. I was in, particular, very aware of this and made sure that I didn't post anything without censoring first. One of the first things Kenny said to one of our minors on the server was "I'll suck your dick", when talking about fan art that Dork had done. Dork is very young compared to me or possibly him. I don't know how old he is but I just know that this comment made me uncomfortable reading back on it, especially because Dork is like a brother to me. I would protect him with my life if I could. I love this kid and would unironically do anything for him. They continued talking and he was incredibly mean to Dork, often calling him stupid and often acting as if his actions were childish and not as important as Kenny’s actions. When Dork tried to bring up another subject, relating to theater, not only did Kenny call him a fool, but he also said “I don't want to suck your dick anymore" continuing the uncomfortable, NSFW environment that he was starting to form.
As many of you who've read my page know, I like writing angst but I also enjoy writing stuff that's not so family friendly. I like pushing my boundaries and learning how to write, as an adult now, because it's a way of expressing myself that people don't need to see. It was a personal server thing that I kept it censored to protect people who didn't want to see it at that time. At one point I put out a request question saying I would write anything anyone wanted smut, angst, or fluff. I like writing requests and I like writing gifts for friends. It's a personal love language of mine. Kenny stumbled around for a bit, trying to come up with an idea before eventually asking me for Sliqueborg smut. I don't like the ship. It's not my thing, I'm more into BrinkBorg or the canon Lynn Mer and Kyborg. So I asked, “what are your headcanons?” I might as well be proper when I write this story. I don't want to come up with some idea that he didn’t agree with. He went to the headcanon channel and gave me one of the most inappropriate and jarring strings of sentences I have ever heard. Not only did he make our beloved wood elf incredibly abusive, but he also took Slique’s character and destroyed it. It was horrible to listen to and even more horrible to read back. I am 18, a barely illegal adult and the other two are minors on this server. I was terrified to see that he willingly put this down on paper for anyone to see. He only censored the thing because I had personally asked him earlier on.
I already was feeling uncomfortable with this guy. He was being pushy and mean and a lot of his headcanons were hard to swallow, and more and more times he brought up sexual things. I have a personal headcanon for the Groethe crew that relates to the musical instruments they would play. Ella plays violin, Mathilde sings, Barney plays flute, and Chip plays French horn. I thought it was a cute thing because of how Ella and Chip would very well complement each other, but Kenny took the opportunity to make a very inappropriate joke. That made me very uncomfortable because it was about Chip, who I see as a close similarity to my father. Chip acts and says things like my father would, so hearing this very sexual joke automatically took me out of the conversation. I hated it. I hated the idea of it. Not only that but there was one point in time when Dork was opening up about something very personal (which I won't share here) However, I came in at the worst possible time because I was on break. It happened to be insanely out of context, so of course I was like “What the hell?” But I didn't say it in a mean way. I meant it in a kind, confused way, similar to how an older sibling would walk into a conversation that you're having, that happens to be weird. Kenny continued to then look down at Dork, calling them dear and darling as if they didn't understand what I was saying. I came in and I was like “Wow this is kind of weird”, but that was it. I didn't push or prod. I didn't judge them beyond just that it was a weird message to get out of context and went back to work. Kenny belittled Dork for another 20 minutes after I went back to work.
Dork came to me the next day or so, in tears. They were terrified. They felt horrible. Kenny was being such an asshole to him and he couldn't do anything about it. It's a third party’s server and Kenny was a friend to the third party member. We didn't feel comfortable talking right to her right away. So instead the two of us hopped on a 2-hour long call on Discord to talk about our grievances. I helped Dork write a message to Kenny but instead of apologizing in response, he just said that it was his humor, a mask to protect himself. As someone who uses a mask constantly to protect myself from trauma, this pissed me off. His mask was being a jerk, his mask was being mean, and most importantly his mask was being overly sexual when it wasn't required.
Another thing that he often did was make fun of drug culture. Make fun of the “druggies”, including snorting pain pills and other issues that should not be joked about, while talking about his headcanons relating to Slique and Kyborg. He also mentioned rape, which I am completely uncomfortable with as a cis woman who has dealt with uncomfortable situations that deal with my body. I hated this. He came in as a cis male (based on what he said himself) completely invading a comfortable and safe space. Kenny is not the type of person I would leave my drink with at a party. I felt uncomfortable talking to him the majority of the time but I didn't want to bring it up because I didn't want to hurt the third party's feelings. After Dork came to me in tears, I said enough is enough and I reached out to her anyway. Thankfully the third party was kind, kicked him out of the server and I haven't had to interact with him since.
However, I've seen issues within the Tumblr fandom, the fandom that's taken me so warmly and held me to a higher standard than I've held myself for years. I love to see the community interacting with my posts and I love seeing my moots talk to me in such a kind and happy way. However, I know there are multiple people within the community, one who I talked to and wishes not to be named, has had issues with him. Most people see SliqueBorg as a very abusive and toxic ship due to his headcanons. He's ruined a ship, that though I don't agree with, is valid. Not only that, but he also still ships Mudd with multiple characters including Gum Gum (This is just vague posting and suggestive tagging, but it's very easy to see him doing something like this). which is a huge issue on its own. He doesn't care about if someone is a minor and if they would even want to be in a relationship.
During the whole “Mudd Gate '', which is what I'm calling the one actual problem we've ever had within this community, when actual Aro ace people were coming out and talking about how they didn't like how Mudd was being shipped with characters. A lot of people agreed, including me, but Kenny came onto the server and started complaining along with the third party (who will again, stay unnamed). Both of them came with swinging swords, dragging down the entire Tumblr community saying it was unfair for them to completely block out a ship component just because of a canon sexuality given by Jon himself. It took me a little bit to feel comfortable within it as someone who's Demi who was personally was seeing Mudd as Demi. But now I see the issues of my ways. How little aro ace representation there really is in the world, that is untouched by fandoms. Just look at Alstor from Hazbin Hotel. He's constantly shipped with people despite being a canon Aro ace character.
Through this all, I just want to say that we should stop supporting him. We should stop giving him a platform. Not only is he a fake fan just with how he characterizes Kyborg but he also has issues with sensitive topics that he will continue to joke about until the very day that he dies. I can tell that he thinks a lot of people are sensitive. Just saying things are offensive for clout or some other reasons, but a lot of the things that he actually says are very offensive and very inappropriate around the people he's been around. His actions almost took Dork away from this fandom. It isn't as bad as some other things that have come up in the past relating to other communities (*cough cough* Wilbur *cough cough*) If you hate me for making this post then I'll just say I don't care. I am planning on blocking him after I finish this post or at least until after he can react. I don't want to just completely block him from seeing his criticism but I will stop supporting any posts I have seen. I will make sure that he is no longer on my dash because he has done things that I am severely uncomfortable with. He does not bring good vibes to this community and he especially should not be allowed to continue being in the fandom if he's going to spread such hate. This is a kind and loving fandom that has taken me and others with open arms in times of struggle and times of pain. He has made it uncomfortable to be in. I cannot support him and I implore the rest of you to do the same after his actions.
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Teenage Dirtbag
Eddie Munson x reader
She’s the most popular girl in school. And he’s just the freak. Maybe people shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
A/N: based off the song narrative of Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus. I really loved writing this, I enjoy creating stories based off of songs. So if anyone has other music you want me to base stories on, don’t hesitate to ask! Feedback is greatly appreciated❤️
The Hellfire Club had ended their campaign earlier than expected. They were pissed, obviously, but the dungeon master had good reason to cut it short. That reason being the cheer squad practicing out on the field at the same time. He wasn’t big on school spirit and didn’t care for any form of sport. But the one thing, or person, Eddie took an interest in was the cheer captain, Y/N.
She wasn’t Eddie’s usual type. Popular, athletic, preppy. Way out of his league, obviously. But the boy couldn’t help the attraction he had towards her. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh. God, it was infectious.
Eddie walks out of the building and makes his way to the field, beelining for the bleachers. He doesn’t want to seem like a creep, but he also has a reputation to uphold. If people found out that the freak was watching cheer practice every week for an hour, he’d never live it down. He leans on his arms, peaking through the gaps and scanning the cheerleaders. He spots her in the middle, stretching her arms and leaning from side to side. She wears white tube socks and bright yellow Keds. Most couldn’t pull that off. But to Eddie, she rocks it. He wants nothing more than to tell her that, but she has no idea who he is.
“So this is why we have to cut Hellfire short?”
Eddie jumps and turns around, the sarcastic question coming from none other than Dustin Henderson. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, pleased with the older boys scared reaction.
“Henderson. You shouldn’t creep up on a guy when he’s-“
“When he’s acting like a perve.”
Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply. He knows it’s weird for him to do this. But he’d rather admire from afar then be put in his place if he so much as smiles at her. Although, she’s the problem. It’s her dick of a boyfriend. He doesn’t know much about him, only that he plays on the basketball team and lives on his block. Somewhere else he sees her frequently. Driving down the street together in his IROC, her bare legs hanging out the window. Her boyfriend also carries a gun around school. Why, Eddie couldn’t begin to imagine. He definitely doesn’t want to find out.
“You know,” Dustin pipes up, “Y/N isn’t judgemental like her friends. Or boyfriend.” Eddie chooses not to question how he knows she’s the one he’s been looking at. “She’s always been open-minded. Might be willing to get to know Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy.”
At that, Eddie goes to push the younger boy, but misses, as Dustin runs off snorting. He wishes he could believe those words. That maybe you wouldn’t look at him the way everyone else does. That you’d see past the messy hair, leather jackets and unsavoury music. But he couldn’t. because he was just that. The freak. The weirdo. The dirtbag. He huffs and walks away from the bleachers, feeling down on himself.
---
Why Eddie had agreed to take all the kids to prom, he’ll never know. But as they all pile out of the van, chatting animatedly about decorations and people’s outfits, he sits back with a cigarette in hand. He had nowhere to go, and they’d all be ready to leave in a couple hours, so there was no point leaving to have to drive back.
He waves half-heartedly at them as they walk into the gym and lights up. Eddie closes his eyes and breaths out. He hates to sit and mope, but it’s hard not to knowing everyone else is having fun. While he sits alone, waiting for a bunch of 14-year-olds. What a loser.
No soon after the kids have left, Eddie begins to grow restless. He looks at the doors, seeing the flashing lights and hearing muffled music. It couldn’t hurt to poke his head through and scope the place. No one would see him. He’s never been to the prom before, albeit due to being banned from going every year. But it had never been his seen anyways. Having to get dressed up and listen to some shitty cover band play the same three songs over and over. Eddie preferred staying home and getting high.
Either way, he hits his hands on the steering wheel, and gets out the van, flicking the cigarette butt onto the floor. Making his way into the gym, he immediately spots Dustin, along with Mike and Lucas dancing off to the side. Red faced and laughing, he can’t help but smile, glad they’re having fun. He walks further through, trying not to be seen, but standing out completely. Eddie chooses to stand at the back of the room, alongside other rejects who hope that this will be the year they get asked to dance. He crosses one leg over the other and does the same with his arms. Constantly glancing back and forth, using the time to people watch. Couples dancing. Couples arguing. A kid most definitely spiking the punch. Y/N walking over to him.
Eddie stands up straighter, eyes wide and mouth dry. She was still coming closer, a small smile on her face. This can’t be real. Maybe she’ll take a sudden turn towards the doors, or perhaps she’s going to ask him to leave. She is part of the prom committee, and he’s not exactly welcome. Even so, she continues to walk towards him, until she’s only a few feet away.
“Surprised to see you here.”
Eddie can hardly process what she’s said. “Huh?”
“I didn’t think this was your scene. I hope you’re having a good time though.”
Why is she talking to him? why is she acting as if she knows who he is? Why does she hope he’s having a good time? Those are just a few of the several thoughts running through Eddie’s mind. His lip and hands start to shake, and he’s hyper aware that she’s waiting for him to reply.
“You look really beautiful.”
He cringes. That wasn’t what he meant to say. He truly meant it though. A stunning, purple dress hugs Y/N’s figure, the lace wrapping around her collarbone. Subtle, golden makeup shines under the light. To Eddie, she looks ethereal. He’s smitten, and he’s worried he may have just blown it. Then he hears her laugh.
“You’re too sweet,” the music changes, and ‘Like a Virgin’ begins to play. She reaches out her hand, “come on, I love this song.”
Eddie’s still in shock, as the girl takes his arm and drags him to the centre of the gym, lip syncing along to the lyrics. She takes both his hands in hers and moves them back and forth. Eddie tries to keep his focus on her, not wanting to lose a second of their time together. But he can’t help to look around, nervous and on edge. Y/N leans close so he can hear her.
“He’s not here.” Eddie looks confused. “My boyfriend? We got into a huge fight earlier and he left.”
He’s unsure how to respond. He can tell she’s trying to hide the hurt, a tight-lipped smile and eyes glossy. Her boyfriend’s a dick, sure, but Eddie knows what relationships can do to a person. Though it pains him to think of her having to go through anything like that. Instead, he changes the subject.
“So you like Madonna?”
She shrugs. “Well yeah, everyone does. But I’m more into hardcore stuff,” Eddie holds his breath. “You know, bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath.”
Of course he knew what she meant. But it was still hard to process. The head cheerleader, who wore bright colours and was the embodiment of sunshine and flowers, is a metalhead. He hardly notices the song change once more to a slow melody, as she rests her arms atop his shoulders, and his wrap instinctively around her waist.
“Actually, now that I mention it. Iron Maiden are doing a show this Friday. I’ve got two tickets and no one to go with. I was wondering if you-“
“Yes.”
Y/N is taken aback once more by Eddie’s abrupt response but smiles none the less. He shakes his head, a blush forming on his cheeks.
“I mean,” he clears his throat, “I’ll have to check my schedule because you know, I’m a busy guy,” a complete untruth, “but yeah, that’d be really cool.”
She smiles wider and looks down at Eddie’s lips. She looks into his eyes, asking for permission, to which he nods. The pair lean in, eyes closing.
“Eddie,” she whispers.
“yeah?”
“Eddie, wake up.”
He opens his eyes slightly, seeing you staring back at him.
“What?”
“Eddie, you need to wake up now.”
---
He gasps and sits up straight, finding himself in bed. He looks around and sees his uncle looking over him, dressed in work clothes. “You overslept again. Can’t keep missing school if you wanna finally graduate.” He shakes his head and walks out, leaving Eddie alone, replaying the vivid dream over and over.
--------------------------
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#stranger things#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#Eddie munson fic#eddie munson x cheerleader!reader#x reader#teenage dirtbag#song fic
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66 and 84🥹?
Hi anon! i hope its satifsying to get your prompt answered after a week, i just didnt like this and didnt know how to end it but ive accepted that im not going to make it any better and here you go!
84. Show me what’s behind your back + 66. How could I ever forget about you?
Ian held out for so, so long, he’d like that on the record.
He didn't know about it until they moved into the westside apartment. His alarm bells started going off when he noticed Mickey being careful with something. It was unusual for Mickey, who usually threw his shit around without a care and it made Ian’s Mickey specific senses prick up.
He’d subtly tracked Mickey’s movements as they unpacked, knowing that if Mickey was bothering to try to hide something, there was no point in asking from the jump because he wouldn’t get answer.
And Ian trusted his husband, and was making a point to show that, so if Mickey wanted to hide the little unlabeled tin somewhere Ian wouldn’t find it (in the hollowed out contents of a book and buried in his nightstand, Ian wasn’t a saint and there was no logical explanation for Mickey owning a book that big) Ian would let him have that, it’s not like the contents of that tin would be life or death, right?
That’s what Ian kept telling himself when Mickey disappeared one night. He was supposed to be with Sandy and back in time for dinner, but there Ian was at midnight, wondering where the hell his husband was.
He’d exhausted, his options; calling Mickey, calling Sandy, calling Debbie and Lip, and finally calling the hospital. Nothing. No one was answering.
So Ian stretched his mind to what kind of trouble his husband could be getting into, and it kept going back to that little mystery tin.
Fuck it. Ian creeped down the hallway, keeping his footsteps light from nerves even though he was the only one home. Once he finally rifled through Mickey’s nightstand, searching through miscellaneous pens and notebooks and half eaten protein bars Ian told him to throw away weeks ago, he found the big heavy book tucked all the way in the back.
Smoothing his thumb over the cover, Ian tried to make out what it originally said. Maybe cigars? Or bullets, knowing Mickey. It was bigger than a mint tin but smaller than a lunchbox and rusting lightly around some of the corners.
Cautiously lifting the lid, Ian peered in curiously, all thoughts of it possibly holding the secret to Mickey’s location fading away as he took in the contents.
It had Mickey’s birth certificate, for one. Mikhalio Aleksander Milkovich. August 10th 1994. Cook County, born at 3:36 am. There was a white lighter, which didn’t have any gas left in it, but Ian kind of recognized it from when they were kids. There was a photo of a woman with dark hair, standing unsmilingly in front of a white wall. A little green army man, like the ones that littered Ian’s childhood bedroom, and a photo of Mickey and Mandy that must’ve been taken on Mandy’s first phone, judging from the quality.
An old strip of paper with a phone number, a GED with Mickey’s name on it which made Ian’s eyebrows raise. An ID with a photo of younger Mickey that listed him as Casimir Bukowski. And finally, a very, very old photo of Ian, with a beanie and a smirk, flipping off the camera like he thought he was the shit.
There were a couple of water stains, and places where the shitty inkjet paper was faded nearly white, but it was obviously him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Ian whipped around and closed the tin behind him as he faced his husband.
“Nothing,” he defended immediately. “What the fuck are you doing back so late? I was worried.”
“Got fucking trashed with Sandy” Mickey said. “Had to listen to her fucking dyke drama.”
“You should have called me!” Ian insisted angrily.
“What’re are you hiding?” Mickey slurred curiously.
“I am not-” Ian started indignantly, cheeks heating up.
“Show me what’s behind your back” Mickey ordered.
“Your mystery box” Ian admitted, throwing the tin onto their comforter.
Mickey snorted inelegantly, walking over to join Ian and sitting on his side of the bed, stumbling slightly.
Pulling the box into his lap, Mickey shuffled through the contents halfheartedly “it’s not a mystery, it’s just my shit.”
“You don’t have to hide it,” Ian said quietly, sitting next to him.
“Force of habit” Mickey explained away.
Chewing his lip, Ian debated how to bring up the photo that shocked him the most “that’s a really old picture, you can have a new one.”
“I’ve had it for a while,” Mickey said unhelpfully, like that explained it.
“How’d you even get it?”
“Mandy printed it out, I guess she took it” Ian tried to think back and vaguely remembered Mandy pointing a shitty snapshot camera at him before she made him take photos of her. “I stole it after you left, for the army.”
Mickey was looking at the photo now, rubbing his thumb over the worn paper. “I wanted to see you, I guess,” he admitted quietly.
“I thought you forgot about me,” Ian said honestly.
“How could I forget about you?” Mickey asked honestly, finally looking up to meet Ian’s eyes with a wide, unfocused look.
“I don’t know” Ian said, not really understanding his own motivations entirely, looking back. But also not ready to admit he assumed everyone forgot about him, even his own family.
“Thought about you every day,” Mickey said quietly.
But now he thought about Mickey sitting alone and looking at a photo of him in between moments of pretending, hiding in his own house from the wife he didn’t want and a father who despised him.
“You really love me, huh?” Ian asked, peering curiously over at his husbands face.
Mickey finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Gallagher.”
For a second, Ian was so overwhelmed with emotion he couldn’t stand to look at him, so Ian bumped his shoulder against Mickey’s, smiling bashfully as he over corrected and nearly fell off the bed.
“You’re fucking trashed” Ian accused.
“Been drinking around you losers too much” Mickey defended tiredly, rubbing absentmindedly at his face.
“Yeah?” Ian asked sweetly, amusedly watching his husband fade into sleep in real time.
“M’yeah” Mickey agreed.
Ian kissed his head for a second before getting up and kneeling in front of him.
“Oh, I love you Ian, but there’s no way I’m gonna’ be able to do that” Mickey mumbled, blinking slowly down at him.
Ian just grinned and started unlacing his boots, knowing that Mickey was about fifteen seconds away from curling up on their clean comforter with dirty shoes.
“You want some leftovers?” Ian asked once he finished taking off his husbands shoes.
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat in the bed,” Mickey said tauntingly, digging his sock covered toes into Ian’s thigh.
Ian fixed him with a glare until Mickey shook his head. Ian shrugged and helped Mickey out of his jacket and jeans, and rolled him into the center of the bed before he padded quietly into their bathroom to take his nighttime meds.
When he got back into the bedroom, Mickey was sound asleep, snoring and drooling slightly against Ian’s pillow in the dim yellow light.
thanks for asking!
writers ask game
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Chenford + "it was never just biology..."
Midnight.
It was midnight, and Tim was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he first got in bed an hour ago. The sheets rustled as his legs moved up and down out of restlessness. While it wasn’t an excessively warm evening, the air felt thick and hung over him as if he was covered in extra blankets. If the obnoxiously loud cricket he kept hearing wasn’t already inside it had to be right beside his window, torturing him with its incessant chirping.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Flinging the sheets off, he groaned as he got up and padded to the kitchen.
He quietly got a glass of water, trying not to wake up Kojo.
Apparently, this was his life now.
It had been two and a half weeks since Lucy had left for UC school, some of the longest weeks of his life. Weeks that had been filled with an unbearable silence, the longest they’d ever gone without talking since the day she’d been assigned to him.
He’d expected this, knowing such a compressed time of learning required total focus from her. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, so he’d kept quiet, not knowing if she’d want to hear from him anyway after how he’d left things with her.
It wasn’t as though it was permanent, he reasoned. She would be back in a couple of weeks. They would talk again, maybe ride together again, maybe be friends again.
But in the meantime, oh how he missed her.
So he lay awake every night, torturing himself with guilt over what might have happened when she’d invited him in after Vegas, wondering what to do about Ashley, who didn’t deserve a guy who couldn’t figure out what he really wanted, and debating what exactly to say to Lucy the next time he saw her.
She told him it was basic biology. She had Chris. There was no way she was sitting around thinking about her former TO.
It was time for him to move on, too.
As he finished his water, he heard a faint buzzing coming from back in his bedroom and his heart plummeted.
A call after midnight was usually never a good thing.
He sprinted back, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.
Lucy.
“Are you okay?” was all he could think to say.
“Tim, hi. I just, um, I wanted–”
“Are you okay?” he repeated, still fearing the worst.
“Yes, yes I’m fine. I’m in my hotel room for the night.”
Finally able to release the breath he’d been holding, he sank onto the bed, feeling like he’d just aged ten years. “In that case, hi.”
“Um, how are you?”
Such a simple question, yet he didn’t know how to answer. Great made him a lying liar who lies. Good was also a lie. I’ve been miserable since you left, well, far more accurate but there was no way he was telling her that right off the bat. So he went with the old standby. “I’m fine.”
“Good. That’s good,” Lucy said, her voice wistful. He could almost sense her the overactive wheels spinning in her mind, yet she said nothing more, which was never a good sign when it came to Lucy Chen.
Sighing, he tried to break the ice. “Lucy, I know you didn’t call at midnight just to ask how I’m doing. So, start talking.”
He winced, wondering if that came out harsher than he intended. “Please,” he added, barely above a whisper.
He heard a shaky breath on the other end. “I’ve been needing to tell you something, for a while, actually. But calling was a mistake. It had been a long night, and I had wanted to hear your voice, but this was a bad idea.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that and tell me what you need to say?”
“No, I can’t do that to you, Tim. I don’t want to complicate your life.”
“You’ve been complicating my life since the day I met you. What makes this any different?” he teased, trying to lessen the heaviness he could hear in her voice.
But all he was met with was silence.
“In a good way,” he added quickly. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Not your strong suit.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. She was able to do it with four words.
“Please, Lucy, talk to me.”
“It was never just biology,” Lucy whispered.
He gripped the phone tighter, sure he heard her wrong. All words in the English language deserted him.
“It’s what I should have said in Vegas, when you asked. I told you what I thought you wanted to hear, but it wasn’t what I wanted to say. It wasn’t just biology, and it still isn’t. I felt…so much when we kissed. And I know, I know you’re happy with Ashley, and I would never want to come between the two of you. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. It’s been weighing on me for weeks, and I felt like you needed to know, because when I come back to LA, everything is going to have to change, and I don’t know really know where we go from here.”
Tim scrambled to process her every word, still not quite believing it. He was desperate to respond, but no words were able to leave his throat.
“Ok…ok,” she whispered, sniffling. “I get it, you know. You told me to move on, and I’m going to respect your wishes. I won’t get in your way when I come back, I promise.”
“No!” Tim exclaimed, his mouth finally catching up with his brain. “I’m sorry, Lucy, I just needed a second to process. It was never just biology for me, either.”
“What? Really?”
“Really. But you made it seem like you weren’t interested, and then everything with Chris…I was going to try to put it behind me.”
“How was that working out for you?”
“Terribly. You’re impossible to forget, Lucy.”
“Wow. I’ve been overanalyzing all of this for so long, and you’re able to whip out a line like that out of nowhere?”
Tim chuckled as he sank further into the pillows. “Because it’s the truth.”
“But Ashley….”
He felt his stomach churn at the mention of her name. “I’ve been needing to break up with her. I haven’t been fair to her, having feelings for someone else while still trying to make the relationship work.”
“I had already decided to break up with Chris once I got home. That was a decision I made for myself, regardless of what might happen with you. I thought I could stay with him after his attack, but there just isn’t anything there. I don’t feel enough to keep anything going. But I do owe it to him to break up with him in person.”
“Sounds like we both have some things we need to take care of.”
“Tim?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we really do this?”
He ached for her to appear in front of her so he could pull her in his arms and give her all the reassurance in the world, to touch and taste her until she had no doubt in her mind. But right now, all he had were his words.
“We can, Lucy. I know there are obstacles with work, but you matter more than any of those. Sure it will be a risk, but I think we’re worth the risk.”
“I think so, too.”
Tim smiled. “Good.”
Lucy yawned loudly into the phone.
“Get some sleep already. We can talk more tomorrow.”
“Man, have I missed you.”
“Yeah,” Tim said, nodding as if she could see. “Me too.”
“Goodnight, Tim.”
“Goodnight, Lucy.”
He pulled the sheets back over him, unable to get rid of the grin on his face, not that he wanted to. There still wouldn’t be any sleep coming tonight, but at least now it was for a whole different reason.
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4,252 Days
Chapter 1: Day 1, Pt 1
Previous | Masterlist | Next
Fic Summary: FTWD re-written to include an OC named Gemma who has a platonic relationship/friends with benefits situation with Nick Clark and then goes on to be with Troy Otto.
Chapter Summary: Gemma sees a guy run into the road and get hit by a car
Word Count: 1177
Author’s Note: This is a big commitment, hopefully I stick with it. I'm excited. Gif from here.
“Please say you’re calling with good news.” Gemma can feel the pre-emptive disappointment radiating through the phone, almost hotter than the 8AM summer sunshine beating down on her as she walks along the street.
“Hello, Olivia. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing well, thank you. How about you?” Sarcasm and semi-fake niceness hung on every word.
“Stop stalling, we saw each other an hour ago, you know how I am. How did it go? Did they suspect the undercut? Because I told you, Gem, it’s silly but it’s true, they’ll judge you for it.”
“It went great, Liv.” Gemma replied simply, not wanting to keep this going and make her friend more annoyed at her than she knows she already is. “No undercut suspected, zero tattoos spotted. I have to go in for a bit of training tomorrow but after that it’s a long weekend before I start properly on Monday.”
Olivia lets out a sigh of genuine relief through the phone, Gemma can tell she’s smiling as she talks. “That’s great, Gem! Really, that’s so great. I have to get back to work but I'll see you back home later, okay? We can talk about it more then. Maybe plan a way to celebrate a little? Alcohol free, of course.”
“Yeah, sounds good. Talk later.”
Gemma hangs up the phone, puts it in her navy blazer pocket and pulls her hair out of its low ponytail, replacing it with a high one, showing off the undercut Olivia spent 10 minutes stressing about helping her hide this morning. Working in a posh office where she has to hide even the most basic parts of herself isn’t exactly the dream but beggars can’t be choosers. She needs this job. She needs to get back on track.
She can already picture her life a few months from now, a little bit of money in her pocket, new clothes she’s been in need of for weeks, finally able to pay Liv the rent she’s owed. An apartment of her own is the real dream but that might be thinking too big right now and living with Liv definitely isn’t a problem. She can picture it though. Flat screen TV, dark green sofa, huge fluffy rug that feels like you’re walking on a cloud. A bit of saving and hard work at a job she’s pretty sure is going to be mind-numbing and it'll be real before she knows it. There’s a smile on Gemma’s face as she walks down the street thinking of the future. Things might finally be looking up.
-
The loud screech of tyres and the distant thud as something hits the hard road takes Gemma out of her daydream and back to reality. It’s like time freezes for a few seconds as she stops in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.
Black marks on the ground lead up to a small silver car stopped in the middle of the road. Its windshield is smashed and Gemma is pretty sure there’s a small dent on the bumper too. The driver is sitting there, shock on his face, probably not sure if what just happened is his own fault or the fault of the person who just bounced off his windshield and is now laying almost unconscious on the concrete. The other people in the area have stopped too. Some look annoyed that their morning has been disturbed, others look horrified.
There’s a quick rush as time starts again and Gemma runs towards the car and the fallen boy. On closer inspection, he looks rough. No shoes or socks, a half-torn, baggy, white shirt, ill-fitting jeans, hair that seems to not have been brushed in a few days. Gemma peers over her shoulder at a building across the road. She’s been living in the area long enough to know where that boy came running from. It likely wasn't the driver's fault. But it probably wasn’t the boy’s either.
He’s laying on his back, staring up at the sky. Gemma leans over him.
“Hey. Can you hear me? It’s okay. You’re okay,” She says, though she’s not sure that’s true. He looks quickly around him, as much as he can while still laying flat on the floor, and then looks Gemma in the eyes for a second, like he’s checking for something. “Just stay still.”
Looking up, Gemma realises that other than the driver, who took a few seconds to build up the courage to get out of his car and check the damage, she is the only person who has rushed over to help.
“What the hell are they all doing? See a lad get hit by a car and just stand there, seems reasonable, ugh,” she mutters angrily to no one in particular. Looking around quickly, scanning the small crowd, she spots a woman with her phone in her hand and points, “Oi, you, phone someone! Now!”
“No, I’m fine,” the guy mumbles as the woman lifts her phone to call and begins walking over. She hesitates slightly at his comment.
“Ignore him. He’s been hit on the head. Call them.”
He starts trying to sit up, probably faster than he should. Gemma crouches down and reaches out, preparing to attempt to catch him if he starts falling backwards. She makes a mental note to buy some work trousers that she can properly bend in with her first pay cheque. Liv can have these one’s back, if they survive the day.
“I’m fine. I’ll just.. I’ll walk it off, you know. Thanks.” He’s distracted when he says it, not fully in the moment and not looking at Gemma but instead surveying the area once again, searching.
Gemma pretends not to notice. “Walk it off? In whose shoes?” She says it playfully, trying to distract him from whatever this is. He doesn’t seem right. And he can’t just get up and walk this off.
He pauses and takes a look at his grimy, bare feet. “Have you never heard of shoeless hikes? You should try it sometime. It’s great, really.”
Gemma smiles slightly. “Sure it is. Listen, just lay back down, okay? Or at least just stay sitting. You don’t know what could be wrong. The ambulance will be here soon.”
“Nothing is wrong. Uh, I’m Nick, you’re British, it’s.. Tuesday..?” He counts on his fingers. “Well, it’s definitely a weekday. See? Everything..” He starts looking around mid sentence, “...is,” distracted again, more searching, “… fine.”
Gemma follows Nick’s gaze and realises he’s looking at the old abandoned church longer than he’s looking in any other direction. So her assumption was right, that is where he came from.
“I’m Gemma. It’s Wednesday. Stay put.”
Nick turns his head back in her direction. He slumps like he’s lost his fight, exhausted, or has decided whatever he’s worried about doesn’t need worrying about right now. He doesn’t say anything as he lays back down on the floor, giving up his attempts to leave. The shrill sound of an ambulance siren can be heard in the distance.
-
As the ambulance pulls up, accompanied by a police car a dozen feet behind it, the driver of the car finally finds his voice. He’s been standing there for a few minutes, nervously smoothing out his work suit, trying to think of what to say. He speaks fast, trying to get everything out before anyone official gets within hearing distance.
“Listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, okay? You seem fine.” He turns to Gemma. “He’ll be fine, right? Nothing needs to come of this. I’ll just... be on my way.”
“Spineless.” Gemma mumbles under her breath before looking back at him. She may not think the incident was necessarily his fault but there’s a way to handle it and it’s not this. Looking directly at him, eyes cold, she continues, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere mate, the police are right there. They’ll want a word, I’m sure. And look at him. Does he look fine?”
Nick is still laying on the floor, not moving much. It's like the adrenaline and shock have finally worn off, leaving him aching all over, able to feel what just happened to him.
Gemma continues. “And unless you fancy running some more people over, I don’t think driving off in that thing is a good idea, do you? You won’t be able to see anything out of that window.”
The man turns back to his car, noting the huge area of smashed windshield, and runs his hand through his already slicked back hair, uncomfortable. Nick ignores what Gemma has just said and looks at the slightly dishevelled man, mumbling a response, “It’s whatever, man. I have bigger things to worry about.”
Gemma looks to Nick, wondering what those bigger things are. You’d assume it was potential head injury or internal damage from being thrown onto the concrete by a hunk of speeding metal but Gemma doesn’t think so. Nick was concerned about something, being hit by a car wasn’t anywhere close to the forefront of his mind.
Before the man can decide what to do the police and paramedics have closed the distance. The police go straight to him, the medics to Nick.
“Okay then, what do we have here?” Says the commanding voice of a tall blonde woman striding over. She’s carrying a large bag of any potential medical supplies Nick may need immediately and is being followed by a man and a stretcher.
“His name is Nick. He ran out into the road and got hit by a car.” Gemma quickly responds.
“Nick, can you tell me how you’re feeling? Let me take a look at you.” The paramedic bends down to Nick. She checks his eyes and makes a ‘hm’ sound.
“I feel fine.” Nick says while she continues looking him over. He doesn’t sound fine. His voice has gotten weaker the longer he’s been laying there.
“Right, okay,” unsurprisingly, the paramedic isn’t convinced. “We should check you out properly anyway. Getting hit by a car can cause a lot of damage you can’t necessarily see. Let’s get you on this stretcher and then we’ll be right on our way to the hospital, okay?” She says it firmly, it’s not really a question. But Nick doesn’t seem to be in a position to argue anyway.
Gemma stands back while the paramedics get Nick up onto the stretcher and as they walk him the short distance to the ambulance she instinctively starts to follow. No one questions her getting into the ambulance with them and taking a seat, not even Nick, who looks over to her but seems to mostly be in his own world now, thinking about who knows what. Maybe he’s thinking about nothing, in too much of a daze. Or maybe, like Gemma, he’s thinking about the church.
#fear the walking dead#nick clark#nick clark x reader#nick clark x oc#nick clark imagine#troy otto x oc#Troy Otto#Troy Otto x reader#- not going to tag troy again until i get to him actually being in the fic just wanted it to be known that he'll be in it at some point#mine
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Swerve is hosting a human themed holiday party at swerve's and he's set a mistletoe over the door for the next unsuspecting bots of your choice who enter (very cliché) :3c
nckjsendkjsfkjef any of them bots would be good, but it has to be simpatico for you <3 its a little off topic but we get there in the end:3 also look who failed their maximum 500 words fdnksjfnkdkfv
“We’re late.”
Drift hummed unbothered, glancing up briefly from his datapad as he sat cross legged on Perceptor’s workstation.
“Fashionably late.” He turned back to quickly type out something before adding, “We all know your social meter runs rather short so we should wait for the peak to get there.”
Perceptor…couldn’t quite argue with that logic, but he still felt the anxiety ticking through his frame, his processor tracking the kliks that passed, of the time he was missing, wasting.
For once, he had actually planned to spend the entire night at Swerve’s Holiday Bash. He hadn’t initially when the invitation was sent to nearly every mech aboard the Lost Light over a month ago. In his servos, he held the flimsy tin pamphlet adorn with tiny, twinkly lights and glitter. Lots and lots of glitter. It promised music, drinks and “fun, Earth customs!” with a crudely drawn snowman holding a cube of energon. Perceptor was going to toss it away, ignore the social gather in favor of focusing on his work but…
His optics darted to the other half of the lab currently unoccupied. Its inhabitant was on the other side of the ship. Probably enjoying music and drinks and whatever Swerve’s best guess at Earth holiday festivities included.
Brainstorm had been giddy when he had received the invitation. His golden optics had met Perceptor’s and casually asked if Perceptor would be going to. Any thoughts of spending the night alone had flown out the window as he gave his lab partner a single, solid nod.
It seemed now, he was back to his usual plans. He wasn’t sure why Drift had insisted they would go together, only to keep Perceptor held up in his lab for nearly an hour, but…it felt like the cosmic forces were against him. Or maybe just Drift. Despite his neutral, calm demeanor, Perceptor felt the other mech was hiding something from him.
“The party is going to be over before we get there,” Perceptor tried again.
Both of Drift’s optic ridges rose as he met Perceptor’s gaze. “Trust me, it won’t. Rodimus is usually the last to leave and I know for a fact he plans to spend the whole night-”
An alert sounded from Drift’s datapad. He immediately looked at it, cutting off his train of thought. A bright grin flashed across his faceplates as he jumped off the counter.
“Actually, let’s go now.”
Suspicion rose across Perceptor’s frame but…he checked his internal chronometer. Brainstorm had left with Nautica and Velocity nearly an hour ago. Perceptor didn’t want to waste anymore time, suspicions and Drift’s general weirdness aside.
“Okay,” he said, standing up quickly, hoping it didn’t come off eager.
Judging by Drift’s widening grin, it did.
They walked in silence. Perceptor forced his pace to remain slow and even, despite wanting to rush down the halls as quickly as possible. He had been amping himself up for weeks about finally making a move and talk to Brainstorm, taking those weeks to plan out his words, gathering up the courage to cross the invisible barrier of lab partners to something more. He was ready and he didn’t want to delay it any further. He just want to get to Swerve’s, find Brainstorm and take him aside to a small, secluded booth and-
A firm hand grabbed Perceptor by the wrist, halting his pace just as the doors to Swerve’s came before them.
Perceptor couldn’t even hold back his annoyance as Drift gave him a sheepish smile.
“One more minute.”
“Why?”
It came out blunt, almost rude. Perceptor only briefly felt bad for his callousness.
Drift opened his mouth to explain but before he could, the doors to Swerve’s opened his optics widened. With two firm hands, Drift pushed Perceptor through the opening, an apologetic wince on his faceplates.
Perceptor stumbled. He bumped into someone and braced his hands against them for support. An apology on his lips as he turned and-
“Percy!” Brainstorm yelped. His golden optics were wide, wingtips twitching with embarrassment as he clung to Perceptor. Behind him, Chromedome stood, his arm still outstretched. “I didn’t know you were coming in! Or that you were coming at all! I thought you weren’t interested or…” the words died in Brainstorm’s intake as the jet’s optics rose up to the doorway. Embarrassment, dread and anxious desperate worry curled around his field, brushing up against Perceptor’s. “Sorry.”
Perceptor remained unmoving as he let his own optics follow Brainstorm’s, landing on a curious bundle of colored aluminum, mangled to look almost like…a flower?
Almost like…a mistletoe…
Oh.
Perceptor’s brief stint on Earth had given him a crash course on Earth and its inhabitant’s culture. Even more so, his own research had supplemented the rest. Even if the craftsmanship of the mistletoe was shoddy at best, its intent was still beyond apparent.
“We…” Brainstorm’s intake made an audible click, “...on Earth, they have to…when humans stand under it…they have to…” the words trailed off once more, Brainstorm’s optics staring at Perceptor’s in complete and utter dismay.
Distantly, Perceptor was aware of multiple eyes on them: Swerve, at the bar, grinning bright and wide; Chromdedome, Nautica and Velocity forming a small crowd beside them; Drift surely as well behind him.
Oh. He turned his gaze from Brainstorm to throw a withering glare at Drift. Unaffected, Drift only nodded his helm back to Brainstorm, ushering with his hands for Perceptor to get on with it.
Evidentially, this had all been planned. Perceptor…didn’t have time to dwell on that. Not with Brainstorm attempting to shrink himself as small as possible while still in Perceptor’s hold.
“Kiss,” Perceptor murmured, dropping his voice low. “Traditionally, speaking.” Brainstorm’s optics were glued to Perceptor, wide and fearful. It made Perceptor’s spark drop painfully. Weeks of courage and weeks of pep talks and weeks of planning all swirling down the drain as he whispered, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Brainstorm blinked, slow and owlishly. “If…If I don’t want to?”
A sickly warmth crawled up Perceptor’s cheeks. Leave it to Brainstorm to dissect the meaning of his words now. “Yes,” Perceptor gave a faint nod, his optics closing as he added, “I am…not opposed.”
The silence was deafening.
Perceptor began calculating the probability of socially ever being able to recover from this. It truly depended on the Rodimus and Whirl factors. If they were here and watching, the ridicule would be endless. Though with Drift watching behind him, the sting would last a bit longer. He would just have to hole up in his lab for a few weeks. Unless Brainstorm still wanted to be lab partner, then he’d have to steer clear of the labs and-
His thoughts were interrupted with a quiet hiss of depressurization. Before he could open his optics, soft, warm melt brushed against his lips. Shyly, almost timid.
Hope, horrible and all consuming hope, burst in his chest as he reached forward, one hand finding Brainstorm’s arm and the other cupping his cheek.
“Is this okay?” Brainstorm asked quietly, ringing in Perceptor’s audials.
“Yes.” Perceptor onlined his optics to meet Brainstorm’s. “Is this okay with you?”
His grin was on full display, blast mask hanging gingerly between two digits. “Absolutely, Percy.”
#simpatico#ITS BEEN FOREVER SINCE IVE WRITTEN THEM#at least it feels that way#brainstorm#perceptor#mtmte#transformers#macadam#my fics#elmonstro#holiday flash fics#REMINDER TO POST ON AO3 LATER
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News reaches Leyawiin much as anything else does: hobbling along the battered old road; repulsed at the first when the lounging Count and all his surrounders do not listen; and fading at last with the dark sullied rainwater, falls into perilous bachlein, and goes back into the swamp-lights. These to the Imperial City are the backwaters, border-lands which do not matter; and it takes so damn long to ride even to Bravil, that were something to happen to Bravil, – and things do on the alarming regular, – then those in Leyawiin may perceiving flickering over the horizon, sit tight and half-happy, in the knowledge that a marsh is as good as a barricade; and that even whatever is interested in Bravil, – should not find anything worth taking from Leyawiin.
That is how the Count sees it: when unmoving as his city, he does whatever he damn well wants, because news in the returning sense will meet a similar fate, and Leyawiin will still be an island in the marsh. He does not listen to messengers, or more outwardly inclined nobles, and most especially not to falsely-titled upstarts telling him to muster a blighted army or face destruction by thrice-damned fire-born bastards from the city-roasting hell-spit pits of Oblivion. Something about Bruma. Bruma is hundreds of miles away. Maybe thousands. It doesn’t matter. Except to the upstart gnashing her tusks at him and tiresomely un-arrested despite the sword.
It’s Mazoga. Sir Mazoga. And she has a bone to pick again. Leyawiin doesn’t get an imaginative expletive like Oblivion. Just this fucking hell-hole’s gonna be slurped into the ground and bloody disappear. Colourful as the marshes.
‘It has not been slurped into the marsh,’ says Count Caro, ‘for thousands of years. I hardly think, –’
‘No, you’re right, you don’t,’ says Mazoga, who has in his place done so much thinking, that her hand itches to do. ‘Bruma doesn’t lie. Does a whole bunch of other bloody things, but if they say there’s daedra, there’s daedra. We need a damn army.’
‘I have things more important to be worried about,’ says the Count, ‘than ludicrous things that will probably not happen. I might just as probably, prepare for the High Chancellor to put on a tutu and dance a jig on the roof of, –’
The Count like anyone else, actually has no idea what the High Chancellor does in his free time; and though he calls Leyawiin an island, fears the man’s judgement; so falls silent. A silence which, naturally, is filled by Mazoga’s outpourings.
‘Look, stuck-arse,’ she says, – the Count flinching, cannot quite bring himself to do anything, lest that sword come out, – ‘if you don’t do anything, I will.’
‘Oh! will you now.’
‘I did something,’ says she with feeling, ‘when my friend was killed; I did something, when I found their fucking camp. Got that little stranger to do something, too. Remember that? Remember that? I can get stuff done, I can persuade people, –’
‘You are entirely failing,’ yawns the Count, ‘to persuade me.’
Because he is on an island, because he’s always been on an island. Because he can do what he damn well wants, and what he wants, is a hot bath and a racy novel and about one hundred percent fewer orcs in his throne-room. – On reflexion, the burly one guarding his crockery-collection can stay. – Because he has heard the news from Bruma. Bruma was weeks ago. The news got here by the usual route; damn near sank on the way, judging by the messenger; he’s always said, – because he doesn’t want to move, because he can’t believe it lest he be obliged, – that even a creature from the bowels of Oblivion would turn up bedraggled and covered in pond-weed at the gates, and collapse like a Five Claws drunkard into a bachlein. Wouldn’t even need stabbing. Mazoga’s sword is remarkably close, –
Mazoga’s finger in his face. Would prod him, slap him, gods know what, if touching his Lordship, – and he sometimes, gods damn it, wished it extended to Alessia, – weren’t as punishable as pissing in the damn crockery-cabinet. – Which has its own law for a reason, apparently. – Mazoga says something more, it’s mostly expletive, –
‘All right,’ says she at last: ‘all right.’
Takes a step backwards. Marius breathes more easily.
‘If you won’t do it,’ says she, ‘then I will.’
Though she is trembling, though her face is darkening, she does not reach for her sword. Rather she looks about the room, this wondrous stagnant room, and shouting, rouses all the guards.
‘I’ll do it. I’ll raise an army. I’ll go into the fires of Oblivion, I’ll come back scorched and battered and gods know what, but I’ll do it. If the daedra attack Leyawiin, they’ll fucking regret it. You can stick your arse to your gods-damned throne all you want. Pretend it’s some bloody island, –’
Now that he sees her more clearly, he notices for the first time, the horse rampant on her armour. Is it new? She clutches it naturally, when she puts a hand to her breast. The guards pay more attention than they ever have.
‘It’s my city as well, – Count.’ The Count knows what insult she meant to put in the word, but does not react. ‘I’m not doing this because I’m some dumb-arse hero. I’m doing it because, – because it’s worth defending. This mess. This hell-hole. It’s my city.’
She’s run out of words, – at last. Lowers her hand from the horse. Stumbles a bit on the carpet, looks half reverently at the banners that quiver in her wake; then scornful, back at the Count on his ancient unshifting throne.
‘For what it’s worth,’ she adds, quietly.
‘If you are going to make all this racket,’ says the Count quite voiceless, ‘then you can do it outside.’
‘I bloody well will,’ says Mazoga, – thinks of Leyawiin damp and ugly and filled, and filled, with people it doesn’t deserve, – ‘I bloody well will. And when the daedra are defeated, –’
It might not come. But it might. It might. It damn well might. Mazoga, as bidden, goes outside. Marches out, Leyawiin-green cloak fluttering; and even in the gloom, her armour shining, – her armour shining.
#breton girl writes#oblivion#mazoga the orc#didn't know how to put bachle in english. have only ever seen them in freiburg. idk why i thought they needed to be in leyawiin#i suppose they're just drains#also like. ive never put so many swear words in a piece. it's kind of dangerously fun
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It was Now or Never
ME2, A buildup to the Romance Scene, Garrus POV)
It was now or never.
The one good thing about the whole crew having been abducted was that no one was in the mess to witness him start out from the battery about a half dozen times before he made it all the way to the elevator. The one good thing about being a nervous wreck is that you could find “one good thing” about the whole crew being abducted without delving into what a callous thought that was. Sure, they may be in agony, dying or— worse— but Garrus was about to make a fool of himself, so who got the bad end of the deal, really?
She’d asked. She’d asked! Weeks ago and light years away, but she’d asked. The list of excuses he’d made to put it off was longer than the length of the Normandy, but this was it. They were on their way to the Omega-4 Relay, It was now or never.
He stepped off the elevator and stared at her door. Maybe he should’ve messaged ahead. He could still message ahead— right now—but then he’d be right there. Maybe he should go back down to the battery and message ahead.
“Shepard is currently indisposed.“ Garrus nearly jumped out of his plates as the voice of the ship’s AI suddenly filled the cabin foyer. “But if you’d like to wait for an audience, you may do so inside.”
“Uh, thanks, EDI,” he drawled uncertainly. The thought of what EDI might know- and how its unshackling might change its interpretation or reaction of whatever data it had sent a shiver down his carapace.
“This, uh, meeting… Are— do you monitor…” He cleared his throat. “Could we have some…privacy?”
“Of course. Without the crew, I am running more tasks than usual. I would be happy to devote more processing power elsewhere.”
“Great! Great.” Great? “Not—I don’t mean-“ Was he really afraid an AI was going to judge him for lack of empathy? “Thanks,” he muttered, and gestured the cabin door open.
He half hoped to find Shepard on the other side, just to get it over with. But no, the cabin was as empty as its decorative tanks. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.
The muted hum of a fan and wet percussion of running water from the bathroom made it easy to work out what EDI had meant by “indisposed.” Hopefully it wasn’t a cold shower—he was pretty sure he remembered some human idioms about those. He’d done his own preening earlier, but didn’t imagine hers was for the same reasons. If it was? No, he couldn’t think about that. It put his heart in his throat.
He took another deep breath. “This is good,” he muttered to himself. “You’ve got time to set up. To set the mood…” Garrus looked around. The cabin was already a little on the dim side. Taking the lights down any further could trip her up when she came out— or put her on alert. Not the way he wanted to get her adrenaline going.
Music, though… Syncing his headset with the room, he scrolled through the list of options he’d compiled earlier. There it was— “Crested Waves,” a piece from the Vaenia soundtrack. He hadn’t seen the movie himself, but the soundtrack was good. “Blue Azure” was in regular rotation to pump him up during missions. “Crested Waves” was a more intimate track—not great for battle, but… He wondered if Shepard knew it. Vaenia was popular with the humans, he’d heard. Not so much with the Asari, but Liara was a “pureblood” so—
Oh. Not Crested Waves, then.
Bittersweet asari vocals cut away to a building thrum of percussion, soon overlaid by a bouncy electronic refrain. Not the most romantic track, but upbeat. It was a favorite at Flux for a few years, and could have conceivably been playing when they all went for celebratory drinks after kicking Saren’s ass. He could conjure the memory of her, smiling, bathed in red lighting from the bar, the ends of her hair sticking to her skin, caught in the trails of dancing-induced sweat. It was probably the first and last time he’d seen her completely relaxed. Perfect.
Now. Where to greet her? Her office area was a no-go. It was too close to the bathroom door, too in her face, and there was nothing relaxing about the mess of pads and papers strewn across her desk.
By the tanks? The light was nice, but also would come from behind. His silhouette might be more intimidating than inviting. He looked to the right, where her bed seemed to demand attention. No, absolutely not. Too forward, to presumptuous. The single chair next to it wasn’t much better.
Couches below her model ship collection seemed like his best bet. The lighting coming off the case was a little harsh, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be directly visible when she came out, but there was a table for the wine and the seating seemed neutral.
Setting the wine down, he sat himself at the far end, shifting until he found a comfortable, casual position. He pulled at a few wrinkles in his suit. It wasn’t the one he’d bought for the occasion, but when it came time the black and white outfit looked a little too somber.
When it came down to it, they were making themselves a distraction from everything else. He wanted to keep it light, relaxed. And if it wasn’t— well, a horrible inter-species awkwardness thing could be a distraction too.
Did humans usually shower this long? Or was his anxiety just stretching time? ...Was that her old helmet on her desk? That was grim. He got up and turned it toward the wall. Would she mind him touching her stuff?
The sounds of the shower had faded beneath his music, but the hiss of the opening door sounded like it was right at his ear. He put the helmet back best he could and scrambled back to the couch, trying to slip back into the casual pose he’d settled on before.
Shepard came into his view at the top of the steps. Her short hair was damp, falling more heavily into place behind her ears, where she pressed at it with a small white towel. She looked... fresh... and clean... and completely unaware of him. He should have messaged ahead. What was he doing? What had he done?
He stood up. It was now or never.
The music cut out, and Shepard turned her perplexed frown from the panel beside her to him. Her eyebrows shot up, clearing her cloudy expression. “Hey.”
Shit.
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