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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 4 years

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Then and Now - Dear Diary

AN: It's been a while since I’ve written Supernatural, or Dean, but I'm back now with a new Series. Gonna be 10 parts in total with a lot of feels and fluffs. I've been toying with this idea since I started re-watching spn earlier this year (thank you quarantine) and then after reading a series by the amazing @percywinchester27 I got inspired and started writing. Shout out to my awesome beta @thorne93, you da bees knees.

AN2: I'm doing a thing where I raffle off a personalised drabble every month. How do you join? Easy, just hammer that reblog button. Reblog is one entry, reblog with comment is two entries. So you help spread my work and you might get a little sumpthin’ in return. Win Win

Pairing: AUDean x Reader

Warnings: Some grade A second hand embarrassment (it gets a bit awkward, yo!) There's some talk about sex in this. Italics are entries from her diary.

Wordcount: 2070

CATCH UP HERE

Summary: It's 2010 and you’re back in Lawrence to settle your family’s affairs after your mom passed. You hope to be in and out of town before anyone really knows you’re there, but that doesn't go as plan. Will a certain green eyed mechanic convince you to come back to the life you once had in Lawrence? Or are you going to return to the real world as soon everything is settled.

Three weeks had passed since that night by the lake, and the farm was back in pristine condition. You had worked tirelessly, day in and day out, with some help from your friends of course. It had been so great to reconnect with them all. Honestly, you were the happiest that you had been in a while. There still was a dull ache in your heart though, one that seemed to strengthen every time you were with Dean. It was hard to be around him, to be his friend when you knew that was all it was ever going to be. And now that there was nothing left to keep your days occupied, that old restless feeling had settled in your bones again.

This life wasn't meant for you. Not on this farm. Not Dean. Not even your friends. It was an unachievable dream, just out of reach, and it was slowly driving you insane. Hope had ignited in you that night by the lake, maybe, just maybe there was a chance for you and Dean, but nothing had happened since then to tell you that that was the case. So now you were convinced you had put more meaning in his words than was really there.

Some days you would stop by the pet shop and say hi to Red, which now was something you looked forward to. Donna told you that he had been a lot happier since you started visiting him, and at times he was a real chatterbox now. You would let him on your shoulder and walk around the store while you talked softly to him, treating him some sunflower seeds here and there. Red greeted you with a high pitched hello every time you walked through the doors, and when you left, he would reach his little foot out as if he was trying to stop you from leaving. At times you wondered if he would make a good travel companion. If he could come with you in your truck as you drove around the country, but those thoughts were quickly pushed aside.

It was another beautiful Saturday morning, music was blasting from your old boombox as you cleared out your closet. It was an old mixed CD that Dean had given you way back when, filled with Metallica, Zeppelin, Skynyrd, and everything else Dean listened to. REO Speedwagon played in the background as you found the stacks of old diaries in the far right corner, hidden under some other junk. A smile played on your lips as you pulled them out, five of them in total, all with different covers around them.

“This is bound to be awkward,” you mumbled to yourself as you picked them all up and carried them with you down stairs.

After filling your cup with coffee, you brought it all with you to the front porch to start what would most definitely be an embarrassing trip down memory lane.

June 1st 1995

Dear diary.

I had a huge fight with Jo today. We were gonna hang out after my guitar lesson and she just kept houding me to play… IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. I asked her nicely to back off, but she wouldn't leave it alone. Then she said I was just scared of embarrassing myself in front of Dean and I was sooooooo mad at her. Like… I swore her to secrecy when I told her about my crush on him and now… God… I don't think I can ever face him again.

She's such a BITCH sometimes.

The word ‘bitch’ was spelled out in big red letters, and you couldn't help but chuckle at your fifteen year old self. Gone were the days when your troubles were this innocent.

There was no entry for a couple of days, just some doodles of Dean's name over and over again.

June 5th 1995

So I made up with Jo. She apologized which I know is, like, super hard for her to do, so we’re good again. She told me Dean has been acting really strange the last few days. Been all quiet and stuff. She said that Benny told her that Cas had told him that Dean asked Cas if he thought I had a crush on him.

Jo thinks Dean has a crush on me too, but I don't think so. The last girlfriend he had was Lisa Braeden and she's so beautiful. No way I can compete with that. I just need to get over these stupid feelings so things can go back to normal.

You skimmed through a few more entries, stuff about tests at school and plans for the summer holiday, then some thoughts and ideas for your birthday. It was all very tame.

But then…

June 14th 1995

HE KISSED ME!!!! I can't believe Dean actually kissed me… and on my birthday. It was so perfect, and his lips were so soft. It was better than I could ever have imagined. I'm so happy right now I could just scream. He asked me if I would go with him to the lake tomorrow and I literally can't wait. I can't even stop smiling.

It was the perfect first kiss with the perfect guy.

Then there was a drawn heart with Dean’s name in it. Without realizing it, your fingers ghosted over your lips as you recalled the kiss. It was a bit frustrating that you hadn't written it down in more detail, but the butterflies that coursed through you told you that you remembered it just fine.

Time didn't really register as you sat and flipped through the pages of your diaries, so when Dean pulled up, you didn't know how long you had sat there. The coffee had long been forgotten and was now too cold to drink.

“What's all this?” Dean asked as he plumped down in the empty chair.

“My old diaries,” you said with a smile. “I found them earlier in my closet. It's so awkward, but I just can't stop reading,” you explained with a chuckle. It was hard to ignore the uproar of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of Dean, but you did your best to push it aside.

“Lay it on me,” he gently ordered with that cheeky grin of his.

“You want me to read you my diary?” You asked in bewilderment.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, laughing.

“Brace yourself for some grade A second hand embarrassment, Winchester,” you warned and he made a point of getting comfortable in his seat. You opened the book on a random page and started reading. “June 21, 1995. It's been a week since Dean and I kissed for the first time, and I still can't believe he asked me to be his girlfriend. Like, for real-” Dean chuckled and you chanced a look up at him, but he urged you to continue. “I mean, I have never been anyone's girlfriend before so I'm not really good at it I think. Like, can I just hold his hand whenever I want now? Or kiss him? ‘Cuz I want to do that all the time. I just don't want him to feel like I'm too clingy or something like that.” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Dean just chuckled. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About my insecurities?-” he nodded -”I didn't want you to think I was a dweeb,” you said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“That ship sailed long before that,” he said, erupting into laughter when you stuck your tongue out at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to hold your hand and kiss you all the time too,” he said in an exaggerated sweet tone.

“Ha! Wish I knew that back then,” you mused.

“Go on,” he said eagerly, pointing to the book in your hand.

With a deep sigh, you opened to another random page. “August 7th, 1995. Dean took me to the lake today to watch the sunset. It was beautiful. We talked about ‘doing it’.” As you read the words out loud you giggled and hid your face behind the book. “Oh my god, Dean… It's so awful,” you whined behind the book.

Dean found your embarrassment adorable, especially the smile that followed it, and the laughter. Your nose always scrunched up when you were embarrassed and it was nice to see that hadn't changed. “Go on,” he urged. “I wanna know if we ‘did it’.” Although he knew perfectly well that you didn't, not that night.

“Really?” you asked, peeking up over the book.

“Hell yeah. I'm invested in this now, don't leave me hanging.”

“I told Dean I was scared because I hadn't done it before. He said he hadn't either. I was so sure he had done it with Lisa, but apparently that was just a rumor. I want to do it with him, though. I can't think of a better person to lose my ‘V’ card to. He said he would wait for as long as I wanted.” Even as awful as this was, it was very sweet in its innocence.

“I remember that night,” he said, smiling. It wasn't that cheeky grin from a couple of seconds ago, though, it was the smile one had when recalling a fond memory. “It was a really great night.”

“It was,” you agreed. It was nice to share this with him, even though it was embarrassing, it was a story that the two of you shared, and it was nice to have this reminder of how good things once were for you. You flipped the pages once more, now looking for a specific entry. “August 12th 1995. Dean and I finally did it. It was at the lake in the bed of my truck, but it was as perfect as could be. He was so gentle with me, and patient. It hurt a lot at first, but Dean went really slow and it got better. There was a little blood afterwards and I was super embarrassed, but he didn't care. I’m so glad Dean was my first, because I don't think anyone else would make me feel so safe. Dean always makes me feel safe.” The words trailed off and you looked up at Dean, the air suddenly thick around you.

He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Well, there you have it.”

“Sorry. I didn't know it would turn so… real,” you said quietly, closing the book and placing it on the table.

“No - it's not - don't.... A lifetime ago, right?”

“Right,” you agreed. Clearing your throat, you got to your feet and rubbed your clammy hands on your jeans. “Want a beer?” Now, you were eager to change the subject to just about anything else.

Dean looked up at you with apprehension as he accepted the bottle from you. He didn't know how much longer he could hold back his feelings. It was a decision made with his brain rather than his heart, to wait until he was sure you weren't gonna leave again. Every day was a new challenge, and he had to convince himself all over again that this was for the best, even though he desperately wanted you back in his arms. It was so clear to him now, why no relationship he’d had worked out, because no matter who they were or how happy they made him, they were never you. No one could take your place in his heart, not ever. “You know-” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, looking anywhere but right at you -”that night meant a lot to me too. And not just because I got laid for the first time,” he said with a chuckle. Typical Dean to add some joke into a serious conversation. “But because it was you.”

The truth he spoke was clear in his emerald orbs and it damn near melted your heart. “I guess it was pretty great. Especially for two teenagers who were too immature to say the word ‘sex’ out loud,” you mused, a crooked smile on your lips.

“You know what I think we should do?” Dean asked after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“We should grab some beers and head up to the lake to watch the sunset. Bring some blankets and stuff like we used to do, you know?”

“I would like that very much,” you said earnestly.

T&N Tags: @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @capandbuckylvr @superapplepie @sandlee44 @eliwinchester99 @sunflowers-n-rocknroll

SPNTags: @atc74 @akshi8278

AllThingsTags: @campingmonkey

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 4 years

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Carnival of Hearts (Part 3/6) ~ Bucky x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Friday my lovelies! Part 3 is here. :)

This is my entry for @buckysknifecollection ‘s 3k Follower Challenge. Congrats on the milestone lovely! Go check out the blog. Personal fave is Hush (a must read if you’re into soft!Biker!Bucky)

Prompt: Our friends set us up on this carnival date but we’re both pining after someone else and this a bit awkward

Summary: When you’re set up on a carnival date with Bucky Barnes NOTHING turns out the way you expected.

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2090

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When you came back from the restroom, Bucky was sitting at the picnic table scribbling in a notebook.

“So you’re a writer?”

Bucky jumped and snapped the leather bound journal shut.

“I… what? This was just a grocery list.”

You frowned at the obvious lie, but decided not to call him on it opting for a different tactic.

“Oh. Sorry. Nat had mentioned you were doing a minor in creative writing, so I kind of just assumed. Sorry.”

You sat down beside him.

“No apology necessary. And I am doing a minor in creative writing. And that wasn’t my grocery list.”

“I figured.”

You smiled encouragingly.

“I guess I just don’t consider myself a writer. I mean I want to be… Someday. That’s the dream.”

“Do you write now?”

“Yeah, but it’s just a hobby.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been published.”

“You don’t have to published to be a writer. You just have to write.”

“Well when you put it like that…”

“I’m sure that you’re a great. You see the world in a different way. What do you write about?”

He exhaled a laugh, bobbing his head slightly.

“Love mostly. Wanda calls me a hopeless romantic. She’s right of course.”

You nudged his shoulder with your own.

“Well, you’re in good company. Love’s a big topic though.”

“I’ll never run out of material that’s for sure. Recently I’ve been favoring quiet love. Love that comes out of nowhere but that you can find everywhere. Love that surrounds you until you couldn’t be more sure of it.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “If that’s just you talking I can’t imagine what your writing must be like.”

Bucky blushed at the praise.

“Thanks, doll.”

“Have you ever shared your writing?”

He hesitated before nodding.

“I have a blog. Anonymous, because I’m so not ready to put my name on anything.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to. But it’s great that you’re putting it out there. If you ever want to share it - not anonymously - let me know.”

You were happy to leave it at that, but Bucky surprised you when he pulled out his phone. You quickly grabbed his hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to show me.”

“I know,” he smiled. “I want to. I’m not sure why. But I want to.”

“I’m honored.”

He scrolled through his phone for a few moments before handing it over.

“Read this one.”

You nodded, and cradled the phone in your hands as you began reading.

Longing from right beside you.

We embrace, my limbs slow, awkward as if rusted.

Your hand in mine, my cheeks red, hotter than a furnace.

Your smile brighter than the sun at daybreak, it warms me.

It disarms me.

I am seventeen again.

Hiding. Questioning. Unsure.

My desire is benign. It is pure.

Nine o’clock every morning - a new quiet beginning.

Seven o’clock every evening - the sweetest homecoming.

One press of your lips on mine hits me like a freight car.

I am lost.

I am yours.

“Wow, Bucky, this is…”

“Terrible. Dry.”

“No. It’s beautiful. And I can feel the emotion. Oh my. You are so talented. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Thanks for not judging me.”

“Why would I judge you?”

“Some people think writing is dumb.”

“I think those people are dumb.”

“I dream of being a published author someday. But every time I start making plans, I’m reminded that writing isn’t a guaranteed career.”

“There are no guarantees in life. And if you ask me, you should take some of your own advice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me that you think Sam should be a chef because it’s what makes him special.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, your writing is what makes you special. And you should give it a fair shot. I think the world needs the words of Bucky Barnes.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Any time. I like to aggressively hype up my friends, so you should probably get used to it.”

Bucky’s laugh was deep and booming.

“You’re the best.”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Bucky let you read a few more pieces, each more beautiful than the last. He had the heart of a man in love.

“So since you know mine, what’s your dream profession?” he asked as you walked back towards the roller coasters after completing your first circuit.

“Photographer,” you replied without skipping a beat.

“Damn, I had my money on news anchor.”

“Well, I am a journalism major. It seemed like a safer bet.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at you.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“When did you fall in love with photography?”

You had to think for a moment.

“When I was six or seven, my dad bought me a toy camera and I immediately ran around the house taking a million pictures. And when we got the prints I glued them onto construction paper and taped them up around my living room like it was a gallery that I forced my parents to tour. They were very supportive considering it was mostly blurry pictures of a mop.”

“But I’m sure your passion showed through.”

You smiled appreciatively.

“Still. But I fell in love with it when I realized that two people can look at the same photo and see a totally different story. And both of them could have a different understanding than the photographer.”

“It definitely illustrates the effect of the consumer’s perspective. That was always my favorite part of literary discussions.”

“Yes. Totally.”

“Okay, so if journalism isn’t the goal, what is?”

“Freelance photographer I guess. I actually had this idea to make a blog and do weekly photo story prompts, so people could submit their stories based on the pictures and then people could come read and enjoy them. And if it got big enough I could start hosting writing challenges and contests. Steve keeps hounding me to set it up. He says it would give people a chance to fall in love with my photos in a different way.”

“That’s a great idea. I think you should do it.”

“Nah, I doubt anyone would want to do something like that.”

“Are you kidding? It sounds amazing. You would just need to get the word out in the writing community. I would definitely participate.”

“Really?” you asked, excited by the prospect.

Bucky smiled and nodded.

“I might even put my name on it for you.”

After the roller coaster, you made your way to the pirate themed pendulum ride, trying to position yourselves so you’d have your pick of seats by letting a few people go ahead of you.

“Do you have a favorite photograph you’ve taken?” Bucky asked, as you let another family pass you.

You bit your lip.

“That’s a yes. Will you show it to me some time?”

“I can show it to you now if you really want to see it.”

“I would love to.”

You could sense that his interest was genuine so you slipped your phone out of your pocket and opened Instagram.

“This one is my favorite,” you stated, clutching the screen against your chest.

“You don’t have to show me, you know.”

“I know.”

You smiled and with a deep breath turned the phone to show him.

“Umm that’s just the background.”

You looked at it and sure enough you’d accidentally exited the app.

“Damn it. Okay one second. Here we go.”

You showed him the phone with much less fanfare, but his reaction was immediate.

“Wow.”

You’d taken the photo after dinner one night. Steve was leaning against the wall on the balcony sketching by the light of a full moon and the mini lanterns you’d wrapped around the railing. You had to capture the moment. Steve heard you fumbling with your camera and looked up just in time, a soft smile gracing his features.

“Perfect,” you murmured as you looked at the shot.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Steve’s the one who encouraged me to put some of my photos on Instagram. But I told him I’d only do it, if that was the first one. It’s still my most popular post. Nat says it’s cuz he’s pretty.”

“He is for sure,” Bucky chuckled. “But he’s also soulful. I want to know what makes a man that happy.”

He had his suspicions.

“I think this should be my next post,” you cooed as you showed Bucky the picture of him cuddling the plush wolf you had won him at the ring toss.

“Delete that.”

“Literally never.”

He pouted. “Come on, please.”

You shook your head.

“Nope. This is my new favorite photo. You’re adorable and I’m never deleting it.”

Bucky had only known you a few hours, but he could tell when he should cut his losses.

“Fine. But if you’re keeping that one. We should at least have a cute one of the both of us.”

“That’s a fabulous idea.”

Bucky moved so he was straddling the bench of the picnic table, and you shuffled so that you were in between his legs. You put your phone in selfie mode and took one photo before a woman approached you.

“Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you?”

“Sure, that would be great!”

You handed her your phone as you and Bucky re-situated yourself so you were sitting side by side. Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder and the stuffed animal sat on your laps.

She took several photos and you were giggling when Bucky had his wolf kiss you on the cheek.

“Here you go. I took a bunch.”

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s so nice to see a young couple so in love.”

She walked away before you or Bucky could respond. You both shared an unsure expression as an awkward silence fell between you.

“Do you want to plan out what to do until lunch?” he asked, not making eye contact.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds like a good idea,” you agreed.

That woman’s comment was repeating on a loop as you thumbed through the pictures she took. You did make a cute couple, but despite having a great time with him so far, you weren’t feeling a spark. What if Bucky was though? Had you been leading him on?

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“What? Sorry, Bucky.”

Bucky chuckled and you saw understanding in his expression which made the knot in your stomach loosen.

“Did it freak you out too?”

You laughed half-heartedly. “That obvious huh?”

“Only a little.”

“Don’t get me wrong. Today has been awesome. And you’re fantastic.”

“Thank you.” He bobbed his head in gratitude. “So are you.”

“Thanks. But,” you drew out the word. “I just don’t feel that spark.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you braced for his reaction.

“Oh thank god.”

You turned to him with wide eyes.

“I don’t either.”

“You don’t?”

Bucky shook his head. “You’re amazing. And I really want to be best friends with you. But…”

“That’s all,” you finished for him.

He nodded. You blew out a relieved breath.

“Full disclosure. I think Wanda set this up because she was tired of me pining over someone.”

“You mean Sam?” you asked with a knowing smile.

He was unsurprised you’d figured it out.

“I don’t hide it well, do I?”

“I had my suspicions, but you could probably chalk it up to be being best friends and roommates. But it’s all over your writing.”

“That’s fair.”

“And in the interest of honesty. Nat 100% set me up so I would get over my own dumb crush.”

“On Steve,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You swatted at his arm when you saw his smirk.

“Don’t be smug.”

“I’m not. I’m amused. Your art gives you away too. The way you see Steve comes through in your photos. They’re beautiful, breathtaking even, but definitely an insight into your heart.”

“Not the worst critique of my work I’ve received,” you joked, making you both laugh.

“This is pretty awkward huh. We’re on this date - which is honestly one of the best I’ve been on - and we’re both pining after other people.”

“Well, at least we’re not pining after the same person. That would be way more awkward. And it’s one of the best dates I’ve been on too.”

“I know that this isn’t what they were hoping for, but I’m really glad that Natasha and Wanda set us up.”

“So am I.”

A/N: EEEEE okay, so I hope that you enjoyed this. I know it may not be what you expected (or you might totally have expected it) just sit tight. It’s gonna be fluffy I promise.

Tag Lists are Open (Please send an ask)

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#Bucky x Reader #College!AU #College!Bucky Barnes #Carnival of Hearts #CoH #buckysknifecollectionchallenge

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tammythompson-singslikea-muppet · 4 years

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Betrayal (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier Reddie)

Soooo I wrote this a long time ago and put a lot of work into it but then didn’t end up being super happy about the ending and the fandom slowly dying so I never posted it. Revisiting the story and re-writing a few things I have decided to post it so ENJOY!! I couldn’t really come up with a better name if you have any suggestion I would gladly take them.

Warnings: swearing, some sexual references and mentions of sex

aged up 18/19

Bold = flashbacks

Part 2

You walked into the dinner on a slightly sunny morning in July. It had started to get warmer in Derry but since it was still early in the day the temp was barely out of the seventies. You sat down next to a familiar mop of perfect curls at the bar,

"I could kill a man for a coffee right about now."

"Is that so." The boy responded sipping his coffee from his mug. You both let out a laugh. The same waitress as always came over and immediately poured you a cup of coffee without even having to ask.

"Thanks, Josie." You picked up two packets of sugar and dumped them into your coffee along with a little bit of creamer. After taking a sip the boy looked over to you with a small smile,

"I guess I shall live another day".

"Lucky you."

A moan escaped your lips as you were pushed against the wall of the bathroom, basically swallowing each other's tounges. One hand was tangled in the beautiful mess of curls the other rests on his bicep which leads down to his hand at your hip, the other at the back of your neck. Heavy and passionate were two things someone from the outside might call it but you could only feel need. The door open and closed before a voice rang out,

"I guess you're taking the break up with Richie pretty well then?" Beverly continued over to a stall. You and Stan pulled away from each other, the Uris boy quickly making his way for the door. When he opened it he was met with an older lady and immediately apologized, squeezing his way past her. A blush very noticeable on his cheeks. She walks in and glances over to you "Wrong door" You shrugged. She shook her head knowing better and went into a stall. Beverly walked out and just laughed at you. Failing to conceal a laugh you brought a hand to your mouth. Beverly washed her hands and you both exited the bathroom and walked towards the counter. "Stan took care of it all" Josie smiled. You pulled out your wallet and handed her an extra tip anyway. She smiled and thanked you.

"Did you walk here?" You asked Beverly as you left the dinner.

"No Bill dropped me off." She motioned over to Bill sitting in his car, it seems Stan found it first and was leaning against the car talking to Bill.

"No Haystack today?"

"He's still sick," She scrunched up her nose in disgust."-But he's getting better." When you looked up at the car you could see someone sitting in the backseat. Suddenly it was like you were fighting with yourself to turn around every step that you took. Beverly looked over to you and mouthed sorry. You told them that you didn't want people taking sides, and you were glad that they didn't. But that doesn't mean it hurt any less to see someone you used to be so close with, and not even have it in you to say hello. Beverly grabbed something from the front seat before joining you by Stan, who was conversating with Bill and the boy in the back seat. You didn't even want to say his name let alone look at him so you just stared at the ground.

"Bye Bill, see ya, Eddie." You almost winced at his name. As you, Stan, and Beverly walked over to your car you could feel Stan about to apologize. He could barely get out the word 'I'm' before you pointed a finger up at him.

"I said no apologizing," he sighed and sat down in the passenger's seat," I said no picking sides, and I meant it you do not need to apologize for talking to one of your friends."

"But I feel b-,"

"I told you not to feel bad either." You looked over at him and showed him a smile. "Now be my DJ, we're going over to Mike's." Stan gladly turned on the radio as Bev in the back groaned,

"But his music taste sucks,(Y/N)!" you laughed and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Mike welcomed the three of you with a smile and directed you towards the living room. Beverly walked up to Mike as you and Stan trailed behind. You could see her whispering into his ear. Being curious as to what was short-lived once Mike turned to you and Stanley.

"So what have you two been up to today besides playing tonsil hockey in public restrooms?"

"Subtle. very subtle." You glared between the pair on the couch. Stan looked around the room trying to avoid the question, and you just ignored it entirely. "How's your truck coming along?"

"Yeah did you get that part Bill said you needed?" Stan butted in. Not even looking at her you could feel Beverly rolling her eyes. Mike just laughed at your change of subject.

"Yeah, I just ordered it this morning. Hopefully, it will be the only part I have to order and I'll be driving you losers around in no time." The four of you spent most of the afternoon talking about a little party you guys are throwing for Ben over here at the farm. He had been gone the most June, out visiting family, and when he came back y'all did a welcome home movie night but he got really sick. So now it was your idea to just throw a whole dang party cuz why not, the kid deserves it. Although the only thing that really makes it a party is decorations. Seeing as it'll just be the eight of you as always goofing around.

"I think the final question is," Mike turned around to look at you. "Are you gonna be ok with Richie and Eddie here?"

You didn't want to answer this question. Everything seemed so different the last time you were all together. It was actually that same night, that Ben came home when you caught them. You haven't spoken to or even seen Richie since that night. Although you still weren't very keen on the idea of seeing them, you weren't even sure how it was all gonna go with your dramatic little ass, but you were gonna face it for Ben. And s' mores.

"I guess we'll see how it goes." Stan smiled at you, completely unconvinced that this wasn't going to turn into some sort of emotional disaster for you.

"Have you talked to him at all?" Mike asked. You looked down at your feet causing Mike to put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It sucks, I know. But, next to Bev respectively, you're the toughest girl I've ever met, and Richie is gonna feel like complete and udder shit for at least a month, maybe two, but that doesn't mean that you have to. We're gonna have loads of fun and you're totally gonna forget what a shitty week you've been having." A grateful smile graced your features,

"Thanks, Mikey." Mike looked over to Stan who was talking with Beverly and leaned in closer to you. "So what's going on with you and Stan?" Mike has been very speculative over what has been going on with you and Stanley. The two of you were in vulnerable states, both going through difficult breakups. Mike didn't want to see his friends in any more hurt than they already were, which made him highly skeptical of your and Stan's, a bit, lusty escapades.

The question through you off a bit. The thing is you hadn't really thought of much about what you and Stan were doing. Neither of you treated it very seriously and were just trying to find someone to dull the pain. It wasn't a very healthy coping mechanism and both you knew that, but anyway threw caution to the wind. For once in his life, Stanley felt out of his head. He wasn't overthinking anything, because it just felt good. And at the moment that's all he really wanted to feel, same as you. Neither of you ever stopped to think that maybe it felt a little too good. So instead of hashing out all the pain and misery the both you just though it easier to get a little horny. You've never actually slept together, but you don't think the rest of the losers believe that. The other day you were at Mr. Keene's store with Bill picking up a few things and he proceeded to throw a pregnancy test at you and said

"Here I-I'll call Stan and tell him thu-thu-the news" You started at him shocked for a second then threw it back at him.

"Hardy har har, you want me to track down someone who's ACTUALLY pregnant then leave the test in your mother's bathroom? Hmm, I bet that would lead to an interesting conversation now wouldn't it Mr. Denbrough." You spatted out quickly and both erupted in laughter, then Bill motioned over to Greta sitting behind the prescription pick up counter. After that, you were turning heads with all the noise and loud laughter being made.

"Umm, I don't know. It's just a bit of tension release I guess. Something easy and simple between friends." The words came out of your mouth quickly wanting to move away from the subject. That seemed to be your new hobby, avoiding subjects. You could tell that Mike wasn't trying to pry. He was just worried about the whole thing. You were gonna reassure him that everything would be fine, but for one: You didn't know that and for two: The house phone started ringing. You nodded your head towards the phone and Mike went to take of it.

"This conversation isn't over."

"Uh-huh,"

Stan walked over to you. "What's the conversation about?" Stan questioned. You sighed

"Nothing. Just about us." At that moment Stan turned his head down towards your's then immediately stopped what he was doing. The next thing that was about to happen - that Stan stopped from happening - was something that told Stan that this whole thing was gonna come back to bite him in the ass. And that maybe Mike has a point being worried about you two.

See the thing is, Stan is not a very affectionate person to someone other than who he is in a relationship with. When you are just a friend occasional hugs and a hand on a shoulder are about as touchy-feaey as Stan would get, unless it's movie night then he'll end up resting his head on someone's shoulder. If another loser was standing right beside you sensing your unease and possibly slight confusion, that Stan was sensing, it would be a totally normal Ben thing to just put a hand on your four-arm rubbing gently. And it would be a totally normal thing for Bill to lean down and press a gentle friendly kiss on the top of your head, of course not without a sly remark from Richie. 'But that's over now.' Stan thought to himself. But a thing like that, an innocent little kiss on the top of the head to comfort a friend was not a very Stanley thing to do. Yet there he stood looking slightly down, not being much over a head taller than yourself, having to stop and think to himself about what the heck he was doing. Because that was exactly what he was about to do, press a kiss to the top of your head. 'It's just an innocent kiss! That didn't even happen! Don't you dare overthink this Stan!! Don't ruin yet another good thing with stupid fucking overthinking!!' While yelling at himself in his head his gaze had never left the top of yours. Suddenly his eyes were no longer looking at your head but rather into your eyes. You had leaned your head up to notice that Stan was staring at you. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' There goes Stan again yelling in his head.

"Whatcha thinking about Mr. Boy Scout?" In what felt like years to him, Stan finally blinked, swallowed, then answered,

"Nothing." And with that and much to Stan's luck, Mike walked back into the room.

"Was just a telemarketer- anyway what are we talking about?"

"Absolutely nothing," Beverly smirked at you and Stan. The awkward silence didn't last long when Beverly spoke again.

"Uh, I have to drop off something at Richie's"

"Count me out." The eye roll and tone in Stan's voice hurt you more then you expected. Another totally unexpected feeling was that you suddenly felt bad for Richie. He and Stan had been friends for ages. It was this exact thing that you didn't want happening when you told everybody not to pick sides. And now you are standing right next Stan listening to the disdain in his voice when Bev mentioned Richie and it almost made you feel sick. 'Girl! Get your shit together! The last person you should feel bad for is Richie fucking Tozier! You lost a best friend because of him, its only fair he looses one too!' your mind screamed at you.’ But that still didn't get rid of that feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The rest of them have been doing pretty alright with it, according to Bill, Bev has been a little snippy to them, but apologizes. Bill says he's Switzerland and honestly you're thankful for that but it must suck for him the most because of it. He tells Bev that he tries hard not to be mad at them, but he also feels like in doing so it's an injustice to you, so he really just tries to split his time with you guys down the middle. Mike is the true neutral out of them, he really doesn't like the confrontation but has admitted to wanting to punch them both in the teeth at least once. Ben says he is really upset at them and has been telling you that he's only not talking to them that much because he's sick and he hasn't been talking to anyone that much that isn't Bev. But you also once overheard Bill tell Stan that he hasn't even spoken a word to Eddie, on account of the fact that he was the one who introduced you and Richie and that just really struck a chord with him. You brought it up to him once but he faked a coughing fit to avoid it then changed the subject. He and Stan are the only two who have made an effort to avoid or not talk to Richie or Eddie, but as much as you tell them you just want everybody to get along and you don't want anyone else getting hurt you can't exactly control people.

*time skip to party*

"Eduardo, àndale, let's go!" You yell to Eddie in the car as you and Richie walk up to Bill's door. You were so excited to see Ben and were always happy to hang out with all the losers. Eddie gets out of the car as Richie opens the door,

"Billiam, the threesome have arrived!!" You and Richie walk in hand-in-hand Eddie in short distance

"Quit calling us that, Rich! It's fucking gross!!" Eddie shouted from the doorway, closing the door behind him. You walk into the living room to find Ben. Like always he's sitting next to Beverly on the couch so you venture over there

"HANDSOME HANSCOM!!! WELCOME HOME!!" He blushes at your nickname and gives you a smile.

"Thanks, (Y\N)" It felt nice to have Ben back with all of the losers. The bunch of you asked Ben questions about his trip and messed around for about an hour, before deciding to put in the movie. They all look at you and as you were leaning on Richie's shoulder.

"What?"

"The movie?" Stan questioned.

"Oh right! It's in my car I'll be right back."

You walked out to the car and sat down in the front seat grabbing the movie out of the glove compartment. You open the door to your car as Stan gets out on the other side. Standing in front of the car, preparing to go in, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you see Eddie's car. Your mouth goes dry and you feel like you just want to crawl back into the car and drive home. Stan walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly he feels the same way, letting himself be affectionate like this. But when he looks down at you and sees the look on your face he throws all that aside. Stan squeezes you into his side rubbing his hand up and down your forearm. You take a deep breath and lean into him. Stan feels his heart flutter as he sees and can almost feel you finding comfort in him. You turn your head to look up to him. You would've felt the same flutter had your mind, heart, and stomach not be so focused on your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.

"It's gonna be alright. Right?" You ask, the smallness in your voice pained Stan. His nervousness was gone now, replaced with anger. Not enough to present on his face, but enough for him to hear your voice ring in his ears when he sees Eddie on Richie's lap when the two eventually get inside.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's gonna be fine. I promise." He unwraps his arm from and holds out his hand, palm up.

"You won't start shit with Richie or Eddie?" You said lacing your hand into Stan's, the pair of them dropping down to your sides as you start for the door. Stan gives you a smile and nods

"Promise."

You opened the door and entered the house again, this time with the movie. You handed it over to Bill then sat down on the couch next to Ben, on his other side was Beverly at the end of the couch. Mike sat down on the other side of you at the other end of the couch, Stan was sitting over in the recliner beside the couch on Bev's side. Eddie and Richie were on popcorn duty so they were in the kitchen. Far away enough from the loser's sight Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist while he stood in front of the microwave waiting for the popcorn.

"Stop, Rich, they're gonna see us."

A muffled "No they're not," came from Richie who was now snuggling his head into Eddie's neck. Eddie looked around nervously for a second. When he saw no one present he relaxed into Richie and leaned his head up against the boy's who's was in his neck. The microwave dinged and Eddie jumped. Richie laughed and let go of Eddie getting a bowl from the cabinet,

"Scared of a microwave Eds?" Eddie dumped the popcorn into the bowl handing back to Richie,

"Take this dickwad. And don't call me Eds!" The rest of the losers heard their usual bickering as they entered back into Bill's living room. You gave a smile to Richie and he sat down on the floor at your feet. He handed Beverly the popcorn then grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, leaning his head back. You laughed and your hands went to play with his beautiful, although messy curls.

"Stop! I worked really hard on these curls!" Stan smacked away your hand as Mike opened the door.

"I just can't!! I'm a sucker for the curls." You whined. Mike laughed, smiling at his friends,

"Come on Bev is trying to teach us yo-yo tricks." Stan let out a laugh. As you walk into the living room Bill is in front of the couch with one of Ben's yo-yo's failing to do a trick Bev is doing right next to him with ease.

"You'll get it someday Denbrough."

"H-h-how about you try it huh?" Bill sassed you, his eyebrows furrowed together, mouth in a pout. You couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration, which could mirror the frustration of a little boy or a toddler even. Your eyes move over to Ben and a smile grows big on your face as you pull Stan over to where Ben is patting the cushion next to him. As you sit down next to Ben your eyes wander toward the back of the room in reaction to your ears hearing laughter. You, obviously, didn't know Stan's eyes were following until you felt his person stiffen like a board 'It's gonna be alright. Right?' the look that you gave him and the tone in your voice haunting his brain, reminding himself to keep a lid on it. There they were right before you, Eddie sitting comfortably in Richie's lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. Richie's arms holding him there securely. They were laughing at Bev doing funny tricks with her yo-yo behind Bill so he wouldn't see, still determined to get the trick right. You hadn't noticed you were staring until suddenly Eddie's eyes were staring right back into yours. Everyone else seemed to notice as a silence fell over the room. Mike coughed and you snapped your eyes down to the floor.

"So are we gonna play a game or something?" Stan asked, putting a hand at the small of your back rubbing lightly. Ben saw out of the corner of his eye. He saw how your shoulders dropped as your body visibly relaxed. You had noticed it yourself. Ben looked over at Beverly and when she noticed he started quickly shifting his eye back from her to you and Stan. Bev gave him an 'I told you so' look.

"Yeah, we got games in the closet who wants to play Clue?"

"Yes!!" You yelled. You and Bill high-fived.

Stan winced and rubbed his ear "Ow! That was my ear!"

When Richie finally got the guts to look over in your direction he wasn't expecting to see your hand caringly rest itself on the side of Stan's head

"Sorry" He heard you say with a soft laugh. One that he knew all too well. A little sign of embarrassment, but not too much that you would go shy. He could also hear the soft sympathy in your voice. He noticed something about it. Not that it was different. No, it wasn't different at all. That was the thing though; your tone wasn't even the slightest bit different from the way Richie remembers your voice sounding. Not when talking to anyone else, but when talking to him specifically. What he heard in your voice was what he had always heard in your voice whenever you would look at him with those eyes full of love and caring. 'But why would you have that tone in your voice talking to Stan,' Richie had wondered to himself. Then he saw Stanley's hand. Up at his ear when you had shouted, drop down to the small of your back. His eyes glued to Stanley Uris' thumb, as he rubbed it against the small of your back in a soothingly intimate way. It made an emotion surge throughout Richie. He didn't quite know what it was but he knew that he didn't like it.

You were searching around a bit for Richie, confused when you couldn't find him anywhere downstairs. When the movie had finished up Ben didn't feel so good so Beverly took him home. You had gone along for the ride to get some more drinks for the rest of you. When you got back to Bill's, Richie was nowhere to be seen. When you first walked into the house you went to the kitchen with Bill to put away the soda's grabbing one for you and Bev. Going back to the living room you noticed it was only Bev and Mike. 'Geez, where'd everybody go?' You thought to your self. You looked over your shoulder to find Bill headed your way. You turned around and noticed Stan on the stairs face scrunched in frustration on the phone. 'Poor thing' You assumed he was on the phone with Patty, the two of them haven't been along too well recently. You turn back around,

"Hey, Mike, you seen Richie or Eds?" He shook his head.

"Richie I don't know, but I thought Eddie was talking to Stan over there." You gave him a small smile and muttered thanks before you went over to Stan. You felt bad disturbing him on the phone but he seemed almost relieved to get out of the conversation. You stuck your hand between the banisters on the stairs and tapped a finger on Stan's knee.

"Hey, have you seen Richie?" You hesitantly ask Bev.

"He's over there by the stairs with Mike." She smiled reassuringly at you and put a hand on your shoulder. Richie saw you approach the two of them and put his head down expecting you to be there to talk to Mike. But when Mike walked away he looked up surprised.

"Hey, Rich." An awkward feeling settled in the air.

"Hi" a hint of optimism in his voice. Richie felt relieved that you were actually talking to him, although you weren't all too thrilled about it, you wanted to get it over with. Maybe help things get back to normal.

"Uh, thanks for letting me and Eds come to the party. I know you, Beverly and Mike planned it so, thanks." A pretty genuine smile mixed with a little unsettlement, not knowing what you were gonna do or say.

"Well they're your friends too, and the party is for Ben anyway so." Your voice was small and fragile. Richie's felt his body relax. He didn't know if it was because the sound of your voice made me feel like the worst person in the world or because he was relieved that you weren't yelling at him. He supposed it was a little bit of both.

"I'm surprised they all still talk to me." Upon hearing that, you immediately thought of what you overheard Bill say about Ben not talking to Eddie.

"I truly don't think they would have cut you off forever, I mean they were your friends before they were mine-"

"Yeah but your more likable" You chuckled and Richie smiled,

"The truth is they had talked to me about it and I told them I didn't want anyone taking sides. But still, I think only maybe, Ben and Bev would have given you a real silent treatment. I'm sorry that Stan kinda has."

"No, No you have nothing to be sorry for. It's all on me. But thank you. For asking them not to pick sides. It means a lot." The hallway fell silent again.

"I don't want you to get offended or anything, I truly don't mean anything by this,-" Richie was now being overly cautious with his words, he really didn't want to hurt you more than he already has. "I was just a little surprised when Stan cut me off as he did. You two never really seemed that close, now he's practically glued to your hip."

Richie's tone fell more toward anger as reached the end of his sentence, his mind thinking back to Stanley's hand on your back. A part of him added that in just to hear your answer. Had you already moved on? Is that why you were talking to him because you had moved on to Stan? Why did this upset him so much? When you answered with a little,

"Yeah, honestly me too." Richie felt not just his confusion grow but also his anger.

This wasn't like Stan. If Stan would have wanted to be in a relationship with you he would have told you. 'Well maybe she just doesn't want to tell you?' 'No.' He thought 'That couldn't be it, she sounds just as confused as I do. What was Stan getting at with her?' Richie was snapped back into reality when Eddie came bounding down the stairs loud as usual, shouting,

"Mike you're out of band-aids! You should put that on a list or something, do you know how infected cuts can get without the proper bandage or ointment?!" Richie laughed and smiled at Eddie.

"Do you even need a band-aid?" Beverly asked amused by Eddie's usual antics.

"Well, no but still!" Eddie saw you and froze, but when he saw that you were laughing a bit he relaxed.

He had been extremely nervous to come to the party. It would be the first time all eight of you would be hanging out since you had caught him and Richie. Not to mention it was a party for Ben, and Ben hadn't even talked to him since Beverly told him what happened. Eddie couldn't even count how many times he had asked Richie if it would just be better if they stayed home together. But every single time Richie would reassure him that everything would be fine, even though he was asking himself the same damn question. Eddie was practically shaking about seeing you again. He felt so guilty about going behind your back with Richie, but he couldn't help himself. He had spent all that time in pain thinking Richie didn't love him back, so when Richie actually told him that he was in love with him. It was all Eddie could think about. All the voices in his head telling him how selfish he was being, were tearing at him, but they were pushed aside. He was so tired of longing for Richie on the sidelines. He deserved happiness too. Eddie Kaspbrak was not proud in any way of how he got it, but the happiness he felt when being with Richie was something otherworldly to him. How could he let it go? How could he let something so precious and important to him, something he wanted for so long, slip through his fingers?

"Well hey, me and (Y\N) could g-g-go over to Muh-mister Keene's." Bill threw a wink in your direction

"I swear to god you throw one more fucking pregnancy test at me, Denbrough!"

Stan shouted, "What?" as the rest of you laughed. You had walked away as Richie's laughter died down when his mind had put two and two together. Richie then put his arm around Eddie and pressed a kiss to his head to try and calm himself down. 'I can't fucking believe he would do this to her!'

You laughed with the rest of them and sat back down next to Stan who was looking more confused by the second. You explained what happened at Mr.Keene's to him. All of you laugh even more when you bring up framing Bill for knocking someone up. Stan leaned over and whispered in your ear

"You did tell him we aren't actually sleeping with each other right?" You leaned over to his ear

"Of course I did. He just doesn't believe me." You both shake your heads laughing

"Bev and Ben didn't believe me when I told them either."

"Yeah, I don't think Mike does either, but honestly it's not like we would really believe them if it was the other way around or something." Stan laughed,

"I might believe Mike, but the others, probably not"

"And what are you two whispering about?" Bev wiggled her eyebrows.

"'Oh Stanley I love the way you cuddle up to me in the middle of the night!! You're such a good lover and such a strong man!!'" Bill squealed out in a girly voice.

"What the fuck!!" You shouted in between fits of laughter. The whole room was in hysterics as Bill threw his arms around Mike. Richie stood by the entrance of the living room with Eddie who was dying laughing. Richie, however, was faking a laugh, trying his hardest to keep his cool. He put on a smile on his face and gave a little chuckle as he told Eddie he was going to get a drink. Mike then threw his arms around Bill the same, playing along. The pair was then pretending to make out, their hands foolishly caressing each other's bodies as they made kissing noises. Stan hoped you were too busy laughing to see the intense blush across his cheeks as he laughed as well. Lucky for him you were doubled over in laughter and lucky for you as well, as you were also hiding a blush behind your laughing. "Is that really how you see us?" You laughed asked Bill before he could answer Richie's voice was heard loud across the living room.

"Hey, Stanley can we talk for a second?"

Stan looked over to you. The soft expression on your face almost seemed to calm him.

"Hey, do you know where Richie went?" You asked softly.

"I saw him go upstairs. I think."

"Thanks, Stan." You walk up the stairs wondering what the fuck Richie would be doing upstairs. Your eyes immediately go to Georgie's room. You always got a weird feeling from that room ever since he had died. Forgetting about Richie for a second you take a few steps closer to the door of the, now forever, young boy's bedroom. You reached your hand to the handle of the door when you heard a noise coming from Bill's room. You're head snapped around at the sudden noise. You took a deep breath and headed towards Bill's room.

"Why the hell are you in Bill's room, Richie?" you whispered to yourself. You opened up the door a crack deciding to peep on Richie in hopes of scaring him. You look into the room and see that Richie was with Eddie. Second, guessing whether or not you should go on with the scare, knowing Eddie will you chew your ass out for it, you heard your name in conversation,

"Hold on I think (Y\N) and Beverly are back." You looked in and saw Eddie going for the windows. Before he could reach one Richie grabbed his wrist and pulled Eddie back next to him on the bed.

"They went to go bring Ben home, they're totally not back yet just relax." You notice the soothing tone in Richie's voice. Usually, when Eddie is freaking out over nothing Richie just sounds annoyed. You've never really heard him be soft with Eddie like that. Which drew you to the conclusion that he was being soft for a reason. 'But why would Eddie be so worried about me and Bev coming back?' You watched as Richie put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 'What the hell is going on here?' You continued to watch Richie's hand very closely as it traveled from Eddie's shoulder up to his neck with a thumb rubbing gently behind his ear. Your confusion grew more and more with every passing second. Eddie then put his hand up to Richie's. 'surely to swat him away' you instinctively thought. Only he didn't, instead, he gently held the other boy's hand. You could feel your throat begin to dry, slowly becoming hard to swallow. You watched as Richie leaned in and rested his forehead against Eddie's. Everything in you stiffened as you begged for it all to be over. For Eddie to say, 'what in the world are you doing?'. Or for Richie to playfully shove Eddie over messing around. For the whole scene in front of you to fade away like some sort of hallucination. Hell!, maybe even for someone to say 'what about (Y\N)?' at that point you would take anything. Any sort of hesitation or wavering. But your internal pleas would never be answered. Probably never even heard no matter how loud they were screaming from inside of you. You were forced to watch by eyes that couldn't pry themselves away from the scene before them, almost like they were watching for answers or confirmation of what seems now to be what has been happening behind your back for God knows how long. You felt your stomach drop, your heart, and it plummeting down together. As Richie, confident as ever, took Eddie into his arms connecting their lips together with such passion. Your eyes couldn't watch any longer. Before you even knew what you were doing, your hand had balled into a fist and slammed itself against the white bedroom door. Two loud bangs echoed through the house: The first one from your fist connecting with the door, the second from the door hitting the wall of Bill's bedroom. Leaving a large dent Bill would have to explain to his mother later. The two boys jumped from the sound. So had everybody downstairs. Their eyes wide faces drained of any color, you wouldn't be able to think they could get any paler. But when they realized who was at the door, who made that noise. It was almost like they had turned to ghosts. Eddie looked into the eyes of his best friend. He didn't think eyes could hold so much rage yet so much heartbreak at the same time. It was enough to make him nauseous. He would have bet you good money that at that moment he would vomit. At that point, you had started to cry. Richie stood frozen his face-melting from shock into guilt as he watched the tears stream down your face. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, being cheated on with your best friend, when you turned around to run, you were met with the confused faces of all your friends, except Ben of course.

"What happened?" Mike asked looking at you with sympathy.

"They're fucking!" You stated with anger and betrayal. Beverly looked at the two with anger.

"NO! No! We would never not while (Y\N) and I..." You couldn't hear the rest of what Richie was saying as you raced down the stairs to get out of there. Stan following in suit as Richie walked into Mike's room. Stan walked to the opposite side of the room as Richie closed Mike's bedroom door. Stan didn't know what Richie wanted with him, what he knew was that he did not want to be in that room with Richie, hell he didn't even want to be in that house with Richie. Stan didn't quite understand why he felt this fucking mad at Richie, all he knew was that he was this fucking mad at Richie. And with that much anger, he didn't know how to keep it in. Nor did he want to. Of course, Richie just wants to go back to being friends, he just wants his best friend back and everything to be back to normal. And that's what Stan thinks this whole thing is about. But boy was Stan unaware of the shit show that Richie was about to load on him. Stan stood against Mike's dresser, arms crossed waiting for Richie to spew some shit about, forgiveness or going back to normal, starting over. His eyes were almost already in the back of his head just thinking about it. Stan was starting to question just truly naive Richie was thinking things could just go back to nor-

"What the fuck do you think you're doing taking advantage of (Y\N) like that!"

Hold up, wait, WHAT! Stan looked at Richie like he had grown three heads, eye sharp like daggers,

"What in the actual hell are you talking about?" his voice was cold and stern. Stan could not believe what Richie had just said to him. How fucking dare Richie of all people accuse him of taking advantage of (Y\N)! Richie flailed

"I saw how she was with you, I heard what Bill said! How could you be so fucking carel-" Stan wouldn't even let Richie finish that last word.

"Don't you even fucking say it." Stan may have looked calm before, but now you could see everything in his demeanor change. Sharp, anger-filled eyes, clenched jaw, clenched fists, with tall erect posture. Richie swallowed stopping for a second. There was still nothing changing his mind on what he believed Stan to be doing.

"What is wrong with you, why would even think it's ok to just use (Y\N) for sex!?-" Stan was fueled with rage, he couldn't believe that Richie would think that. He has known Stan for years, and after all this time, this is the conclusion he makes about him. He watched as Richie shouted as he paced back and forth, spewing his mouth like a damn hypocrite, arms flying through the air and in Stan's face. Stan had just about had enough,

"Cuz, of course, it never crossed your mind for even a second that I might actually care for her!" Richie was just about out of breath with anger, small pants were in between his words as he said:

"If you really cared about her you would have left her alone not taken advantage of her while she's vulnerable." Stan didn't even need time to process that sentence before his mind had decided what would come out of his mouth. The truth. The last sentence to come out of Stan's mouth was something that Richie, the rest of the losers listening through the door, and LEAST of all Stan expected to hear. It was like something in him just snapped. The whole conversation, if you could call it that, Stan was able to keep his composure. He was never really one to yell, but something had just taken over him as he walked up to Richie,

"Oh really, you want to talk to me about caring about (Y\N), wake up and smell the roses Richie YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON HER!!! WITH HER BESTFRIEND!! YOU ARE THE REASON SHE'S IN A VULNERABLE PLACE! DON'T YOU STAND HERE AND TRY TO TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I'M THE ONE THAT FUCKING LOVES HER!"

They do say it makes you crazy. That's exactly what happened with Stan, over the year and a half that Eddie introduced her to the group and Richie and her starting dating, Stanley Uris had fallen in love with her. And it had made him crazy, either he wasn't able to admit it to himself, having had both been in relationships at the time of the meeting and falling for the young lady, or he was just that stupid and blind that couldn't see he was in love with (Y\N) (Y\L\N). Stan walked over to the door, twisting the handle, looking straight ahead avoiding all eye contact with anybody, walked out the door. (Y\N) trying to catch up right behind him.

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 3 years

Text

Drunken Shenanigans

(First off, sorry that this isn’t broken up into parts. I don’t know. Maybe you guys prefer it in one long chunk anyway? Well whatever. I’m too lazy RN but let me know your preference maybe for future stories? Cuz like. Y’all know how long winded I am.)

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

FUCK OKAY JUST

FUCKING DO IT WEI YING

ENOUGH PUTTING OFF THINGS.

I want to tell things in order. Or as close as I can remember. But I’m gonna be honest. The fire fucked me up. And I know that each story brings me closer to having to talk about it.

But I think I have to talk about it.

Let’s see. Drunk Lan Zhan.

I WANT to talk about that because in retrospect it was fucking hilarous.

But I haven’t been able to because I’m just all sorts of fucked up right now.

But I think a way to get me less fucked up is to just start unwinding the pieces.

And honestly, writing helped before so I think it’ll help now.

It’s just that starting has been difficult.

So I’m just gonna rip off the bandage.

I’m just gonna start.

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

So it was Friday. Fuck. Already a month ago?? Jesus I’m late.

Okay A month ago today. Friday.

Let me gather my thoughts.

What was I doing? I think I was at home. Doesn’t really matter.

I got a text from Lan Zhan. Not completely unusual, but I knew he’d had plans to meet his family earlier. I think I was surprised that he was texting me so early in the evening? I remember expecting to hear from him later..

Er.. no wait I think I was going to text him around 9. To at least check in on him and wish him a good night. But he texted me first.

I’m scrolling back through my phone. What exactly did he text? I know it was like… wrong right away.

Oh yeah. It was my name 3 times in a row. Or almost. The first two times were mistyped. And then after he got it right he apologized for the misspellings.

I asked him what was wrong and…. String of martini glass emojis? Oh man he was GONE already wasn’t he?

SO obviously I booked it over there. Remember going through a few different apps to figure out which company would get me there the fastest because I sure as shit wasn’t gonna leave him there alone.

Looking back maybe I should have called someone else? His brother could have gotten there faster. I think I didn’t want him to worry. I figured if this was the state that Lan Zhan was in after meeting with his uncle, then Lan Xichen probably wasn’t in the best state either.

I should have checked up on him too but I didn’t. I was too worried about Lan Zhan.

I really should have checked in on him.

Maybe it’s not too late? Who takes care of Lan Xichen when Lan Zhan is fucked up?

Okay that’s not right. Fucked up isn’t right. Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan has issues, I know he does. After all he is, surprisingly enough, still human. But he manages them so much better than I do.

I’m fucked up. Not him.

So let’s rephrase. Who helps Lan Xichen when his little brother is also upset? I know he was, is?, dating Jin GuangYao? Though he doesn’t talk about it much. I’ve met the man in passing a couple times. Doesn’t seem the most comforting.

Though I guess there’s DaGe too. I remember he took pretty good care of him at my birthday.

Is it wrong to want to make Lan Xichen split up with Jin Guangyao so that I can set him up with DaGe? I just think they’d be cute together.

Ah not that I’m in any place to do that. See above; I’m fucked up. I should untangle my own love life before I try to poke holes in someone else’s.

And… maybe I shouldn’t be talking about these things on my blog?

Ah fuck it. I’ve said more personal stuff here already and none of you know anyone I’m talking about anyway except Ghosty and… Idk. I trust Ghosty.

Can’t help it. I just trust them.

Anyway

Anywaaaaayyyyy where was I?

Fuck these tangents. Are they worse than before? Or have I always been like this? I should re-read my old posts but somehow I’m scared to. I don’t want to look at where I was right now. I feel like so much has happened… am I even that person?

I don’t know why looking back scares me. Probably old defense mechanisms. Probably why I can’t remember anything before I was 10 too. Mmm. I should look back. I don’t want to forget.

But I think I’m afraid that I’ll… I don’t know… Either miss or hate who I was. If I miss who I was what will I do? I can’t go back to it. You can’t go back to what you were.

But if I hate who I was…. Well I hate who I am so I guess there isn’t much difference….

Shelf that.

Fuck. My complaining about going off on tangents became a tangent.

Where Was I???

Okay. So I carted my ass over to Lan Zhan’s, thinking not for the first time that maybe I should just fucking learn how to drive???????????

But whatever. I got there pretty quick.

I knocked on the door, heard some concerning bangs and then silence.

Knocked again and called out his name.

Think I heard him again… swearing????? But it was muffled so I can’t be sure.

Shame.

Haha

So I decided to do what he told me to do before and just use my damn key.

I mean… it’s not breaking and entering right? And besides. He texted me. That… meant he wanted to see me right? At the very least even if he didn’t it was for his sake. Totally not at all because I was curious what he’s like when he’s drunk.

Nope. Not a factor. Purely just wanted to make sure he was okay. Absolutely innocent.

(You know that’s a lie. I REALLY wanted to see what he’s like when he’s drunk. But I DID also want to make sure he was okay. So really, win win. Or… True neutral in intent? IDK but I think they cancel each other out.)

So I very carefully opened the door and peered inside to find…. An empty apartment.

The lights were off in the entry way, but I could see something down the hall and around the corner. Turns out that he was in the living room with a lamp and a bit of a mess.

He’d knocked over the bottle of wine when I knocked. Apparently I startled him? And then when I knocked again… ???

I’m not sure.

But he was somehow tangled in his own pant legs? They were comfy pants and a bit flowy and his foot got stuck in the other leg? I don’t know how it happened and clearly neither did he. And he’d toppled over and… apparently had given up.

So clearly my coming over was the correct call.

(Sorry Lan Zhan. I know you’ll never read this and never know but… this was just too precious to keep to myself. I promise I won’t embarrass you TOO much but there needs to be a documentation of your drunken hijinks. SangSang please don’t tell him. ;w;)

So about this point. I decided that instead of helping him, I was going to call out to you guys to ask for help.

I don’t know why? I was panicking.

So I posted Help.

And then went to untangle him.

Managed to fix his pants (don’t think too hard about that one) and get him sitting properly. He just kinda blinked slowly at me and kept silent the entire time. ????

Like okay looking at his face you’d never know the guy was trashed. But the guy was TRASHED.

I asked him how much he’d had and he just held up a finger.

One.

One what??

A glass? A bottle? A keg?

I looked over at the jug that had tipped over and tried to gauge how much he’d had. I don’t know if the bottle had been full or not when he started. I don’t think I’d left any half-empty? But he may have shared with another guest? I wouldn’t have been surprised if he kept some on hand for SangSang too. Not just me. It’s good wine.

Well either way. With how much was now spilled on the table and floor, and how much was in the bottle… I’m guessing… he had no idea and was bullshitting me how much he’d had.

So there’s that.

He had enough alcohol for one drunk. Got it.

Well didn’t matter. Either way he was sloshed. I suppose this is karma (I know that’s not how karma works) for when I got drunk off my ass in front of him before. Ah well.

You know… speaking of karma…. Like what kind of fucked up karma do I have? Like I must have just been a DEMON in my previous life. What the fuck did I do? Massacre a ton of people? Raise the dead? FUCK. Well whatever I did. Thanks a lot past life me. You’re a DICK.

Anyway.

I went to get a cloth to mop up the mess. While I was wiping everything down he disappeared.

I posted on my blog again because I have shit priorities, and then went to find him.

He was in the kitchen. After turning on every single light. His head was completely in the fridge.

I called out to him, because what the fuck? And he stood up and blinked at me again. Except now he was holding a package of skinless chicken breast??? For some reason?????

Why did he even have that Probably was planning to make it for me the next day since that was our Saturdate. He doesn’t eat much meat so it wouldn’t make sense for him to have so much.

But okay

He just held it out to me and said my name.

???????

Just.. standing in the kitchen with ALL the lights on with the fridge hanging open offering me skinless chicken breast in its neat little vacuum sealed packaging.

So uh… Like what do you do with that?

I asked him what he was doing and he just pushed the package at me, asking if it was good?

I mean they looked fine. Lan Zhan always buys good stuff. And this stuff was clearly bought fresh and then wrapped up by himself. He’s got a vacuum sealer thing. So like it’s not even stuff from the grocery store? He probably got it from a humane butcher. Because he does his research on EVERYTHING.

So like… yeah?? They were good? And I like chicken.

So I just kinda nodded and said yeah they’re good. And so he pushed the meat at me again and said it was all for me?

So um.. I don’t know if he was asking me to cook it? I asked him if he wanted me to cook it and he looked confused.

And fair. I mean I was confused too. No one wants me to cook. Everyone always complains. They just don’t appreciate the culinary genius that is me.

But Lan Zhan looked at me, then the chicken, and seemed to be in the deepest thought.

“Let’s put this in the fridge and we can eat it tomorrow, yeah?” I suggested, trying to take the meat from him and edge to the fridge at the same time.

Apparently this was incorrect as he yanked it away from me and started towards the stove?????

I got to him just in time to stop him from turning it on.

Like okay Lan Zhan is an amazing chef. And he’s got a NICE kitchen. But the stove is a gas one. You know the one with open flame? And like

THe man had just dumped have a container of Emperor’s Smile on himself???

Like fuck. So I think I screamed.

Because Fuck. No. Lan Zhan was NOT going to cook for me while drunk off his ass.

I remember lunging at him and like pulling all the knobs off of the stove so he couldn’t turn it on. He glared at me with this.. this …. POUT. omg it was adorable.

But NOT adorable enough for me to give him back the stove knobs. He tried to grab them but I put them in my pocket.

And then he tried to grab them again which is danger zone no no for SO MANY REASONS ;asldkfjsa;lkfaslkfjsd;lkfjas;dkfj;lafkjk

So I took his hands

And put on my best most adorable pleading expression and asked him to please let us have it tomorrow? Because I really wanted to eat it tomorrow. He stared at me again, binked, then slowly nodded and put the chicken… in the cupboard.

So I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie or something instead. He didn’t answer (How is drunk Lan Zhan even more quiet than sober Lan Zhan? How is it possible?) but he didn’t like protest or anything.

So I asked him if he wanted to pick something out and I’d come in in just a minute for him to surprise me with whatever he selected.

He nodded at that. Mumbled something that sounded like “for Wei Ying.” or something and stumbled off.

I took a moment to breathe and update the blog again before putting the chicken in the fridge. Contemplated hiding the knives and stove knobs somewhere where Lan Zhan couldn’t get to them, but that seemed a bit much. So I put the knobs back on and went to see what Lan Zhan was doing.

He was….

Drinking….

More….

Again.

So I updated my blog again????? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Well I did stop him again. I grabbed the bottle and just took it. Downed the whole jar so that he couldn’t have any more.

Maybe not the best option? But I had eaten dinner for once and I’m actually not a lightweight. (That one time was a fluke. Like it seriously was) so it was fine. Not like I was driving home anyway.

And besides maybe it’d help me get on his level? IDK. It was stupid but then so am I. And it was just a shame to dump it all out so down the hatch it went.

It was at this point that I realized that Lan Zhan was still wearing the clothes he’d spilled all over. I suggested he go change into something clean. He seemed to find logic in this and stumbled off to his room.

Did NOT shut the door but that’s okay. It was down the hall and I couldn’t really… SEE anything unless I went further into the hall myself.

Tempting but I was a good boy and resisted.

Thats when things got quiet… too quiet (see post I’d made about it being quiet).

I went to go check on him to find that he was stripped to his boxers, with his pants around his ankles. He was looking in his closet, probably trying to find out what suit to wear???

But when I entered he stumbled back, slammed the door shut and toppled feet over head to the floor!!

Man he’s jumpy when he’s drunk.

I helped him to rights and was actually so distracted that I didn’t realize that he was practically naked for like 2 whole seconds!!

(I’m pretty sure Lan Zhan isn’t a mortal, no matter what I said earlier in this very post about him being a human. No human being has the right to be that fucking cut??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

It is NOT fair.

FUck. )

WELL being a responsible and reasonable adult (lol) I decided I would help this drunk toddler of a man get dressed. I dug through his pajama drawer and pulled out something soft and fluffy. Hoped that it’d be more appealing to him if it was super super comfy. Started to hand it to him, but then figured fuck it. Probably better to just do it myself.

Managed to keep my eyes and hands to myself as I helped him. Very proud.

He let me do this without complaint. He was very good. He lifted his arms up when I told him to and his legs. Ended up putting my face WAY too close to his hips but I looked at the wall the entire time so it was fine.

Fine. It was fine. We’re fine. I’m fine. It’s fine.

Fuck I’m a mess.

Okay what happened next. He was good. Sat like a good boy. Got him dressed (thank you A-Yuan for giving me practice? Did not think this was a life skill i’d be needing now that you’re growing up and can do your own buttons but guess life likes to throw them curve balls. Either way. A-Yuan m’boy. I owe you a solid.)

(Also do NOT miss changing your diaper. Fuck)

ANyway

NO TANGENTS. (that’s a lie. There will be more tangents. Whatever.)

SO Lan Zhan was dressed like a human again. Somehow even drunk of his ass he looks like some sort of adonis. Not fair.

Uh.

Oh yeah. I got up and was gonna step away and he grabbed me.

Not like hard? But really firm. Grabbed my arm and said “no.”

No what? No to the pajamas? No to the bunny slippers? No????

I asked him what he was saying no to and he just said no again and pulled me closer.

“Lan Zhan Lan Zhan” I chided, “You’re being unreasonable. I got you all dressed and you were being so good but now I try to get up and you say no and stop me? What are you wanting? Do you not like these pajamas? Do you want me to dress you in something else?”

I remembered him looking at the closet and decided to be a little shit. I was gonna pretend I was gonna grab one if his suits to dress him in that instead. (No way I was going through that effort. Just wanted to prove a point that the PJ’s were much more comfy.)”

“Alright. Why don’t we change into something else? I know you like wearing suits. Or well, /I/ like when you wear suits. So let’s go get one.”

He started to relax his grip and I got up again, but then 2 steps to the closet he seemed to panic and grabbed me again.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind and sat back down on the bed with me mostly in his lap?????

Okay Trying to keep myself pure here. I’m a good boy. Who was not going to take advantage of my best friend while he was drunk off his ass. Good boy. Think of ANYTHING else but being in his lap.

And of course. THis meant. I had to run my mouth.

“OH? So you DON’T want a suit? Well then you should just be happy in those pajamas. As nice as you look in a suit I think they’re much more comfortable. The pajamas that is. Unless you’d rather be naked. But that--”

Anddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

He covered my mouth.

I tried to twist to look at him but he wouldn’t let me.

I tried to protest against his hand but he wouldn’t let go.

So I examined my options and decided the only course was to lick him.

So I did.

Because I have had a brother and that always got me out when Jiang Cheng actually managed to pin me.

Worked like a charm this time too. Lan Zhan dropped me like I was made of fire.

Maybe I should have been offended???? But I was too busy laughing.

He stared at his hand in what had to be horror. I calmed down enough to offer to wipe it off for him but he just pulled it in to his chest protectively.

“Oh come one. I’m not gonna lick it again! I said wipe it off! Clean it. Fuck I’ll wash ‘em with soap if you want. Dear goodness it’s not like I’ve got fucking cooties or something.”

He stared at his hand again and pouted, seemingly not sure what he wanted to do.

I reached out gently again and he pulled away again. Clearly not down for touching anymore.

So I huffed and said fine.

“You just go to bed or something then. I’ll leave you alone if you’re just gonna get all grumpy at me.”

So I started to leave. And he tried to grab me again???????????????????????????????????

Does he want to be touched or not? Or maybe he just wanted to do the touching now that I look back on it.

Well at the time I just kinda leapt out of the way and complained he wasn’t being fair changing his mind about what he wanted every 2 seconds. Quite unreasonable.

And somehow….

This ended with us chasing each other around the house???

Admittedly that part’s a bit of a blur. It started with him chasing me and then somehow we switched and I ended up chasing him?

Oh yeah. I think I thought he was going back to the kitchen or something and I panicked and tackled him onto the couch. That’s when I sat on him to keep him there and posted about it again while I caught my breath.

He just let himself lay face down on the couch, his face pressed into the pillow completely. Both a blessing and a curse because I don’t know what I was thinking at the time. I dont’ know what I would have done if he’d pouted at me again. Licked him again?? But a curse because that meant all I had to focus on was how thicc his ass was. Like I was sitting on it.

And it is a COMFY perch. Gotta say. Like fuck. This man is perfect in every way.

NOT. THE. POINT.

KEEP MIND. AWAY FROM THAT. YOU DON’T NEED THIS RIGHT NOW. ESPECIALLY THINKING ABOUT THINGS THIS WAY WHEN YOU KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO BE SLEEPING IN THE SAME BED AS HIM AGAIN TONIGHT.

(DON’T @ ME WE JUST SHARE A BED. OKAY? IT MAKES US BOTH FEEL BETTER AND IT’S FINE. IT’S FINE. WE’RE FINE. I’M FINE. IT’S FINE. I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT THAT MORE LATER BUT JUST.. IT’S FINE OKAY? IT’S FINE. TRUST ME. COMPLETELY NOTHING ROMANTIC ABOUT IT. IT’S OKAY TO CUDDLE YOUR BROS. I MEAN IT’S A BIT COMPLICATED SEEING AS I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM BUT WE BOTH AGREED THAT THE KISS MEANT NOTHING SO WE’RE FINE.

FUCK.. okay I’ll get back to this in a minute because I made myself cry again.

Hold on.

Okay I’m back. And I’m actually fine now. Just a little bit of heartache. It flares up if I think about it so I just don’t think about it.

So sometimes when it sneaks up on me like that it just causes a little bit of a panic. We’re fine though. It’s passed and we’re fine.

Where was I? Where was I…. um… oh yeah. Sitting on that juicy ass--- um.. Sitting on Lan Zhan to keep him on the couch where it was safe and cushioned.

It worked for a bit. But apparently only because he wanted it to.

Somehow I forgot that the man can bench a fucking truck? So he just did a push up with me on his back while on the couch (Have you tried to do pushups on a cushioned surface? Please do not do this. Make sure you exercise on sturdy, solid surfaces or you will roll your wrists or something and I will not be held responsible for unsafe workout practices.)

SO Lan Zhan just pushed both of us up and I tumbled right off like I was made of fucking feathers.

No idea what he was planning to do.

At first he seemed worried about me because I tumbled. Which I think broke his train of thought away from what he’d originally planned? Or did he even have a plan to begin with?

FUck who knows. Not me!

Well anyway

I had a bold stroke of genius. Because how does Lan Zhan get me to stay put?

So I told him to sit and wait because I had a surprise for him and that I’d be really sad if he didn’t do it.

So he immediately assumed the lotus position and closed his eyes. Coulda been a fucking statue.

I stared for a second but then remembered he was drunk as FUCK and I had no time. So I rushed off and grabbed Bichen and Suibian so I could dump ‘em in his lap.

Fucking worked like a charm. Suibian didn’t stay too long because she always prefers my lap (aaaaaaaaaaaah my heart) but Bichen will always stay put when plopped on Lan Zhan’s lap. (I feel ya, li’l buddy. If I could get away with it I’d live there too).

Told him that he needed to be nice and calm for the bunnies and he nodded so seriously. He started to pet Bichen so carefully it was so sweet. The little bun flopped over right away. She loves her Lan Zhan so much. (Same)

Decided to try and get him to talk to me once he’d been quiet for a little while. I asked him what started all this anyway.

At first he said that he wanted to learn to be more tolerant to alcohol so that he could drink with me

Which is so fucking sweet but does not explain why he went so hard into it.

And I knew he’d seen his uncle earlier that day. So I pressed.

I won’t tell you all that he told me. But yeah. Family is complicated man.

But that part of the story.. That’s his story. I’m not sure if he even wants ME to know about it, so I’m definitely not telling you guys. Sorry. But please try to understand.

We talked for a long while and eventually he ended up falling asleep. I very carefully moved the bunnies to their pen, then picked him up and carried him off to bed too.

There’s something surreal about princess carrying Lan Zhan. Not gonna lie.

I wasn’t willing to leave him alone in case he woke up again so I just climbed into bed with him. Wrapped him up in my arms to make sure I’d wake up if he tried to leave (hopefully).

But he slept through the night.

It wasn’t until morning that he lurched out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. Poor guy.

I will never try to get him to drink again. With mornings that awful it’s just not worth it. Though admittedly he’d probably do okay if he just didn’t drink as MUCH as he did. Make I’ll get him a Mikes Hard? I know from talking to him since then that the wanting to be able to share a drink with me was genuine even if it wasn’t the only reason he was drinking. So maybe we can ease him into it. I mean Mikes hards are so weak that they may as well be virgin drinks so that should be safe?

I’ll talk to him about it later.

Anyway. I took care of him all morning and he was so miserable. (Even got to carry him again. He was so worn out he barely protested).

I brought him back to bed with some aspirin and some water. I should have made him drink some the previous night but I guess with how crazy that night was maybe I can be forgiven for that at least.

I gave him some kisses on his face because at that point it was our thing??? (Because… what were we??? Well now we’re back to just friends I think. After… after the kiss that meant nothing.)

Fuck.

Okay don’t think about it. We were… we were something… but now we’re just friends. And that’s just… how it is. Because i fucked up. Because of course I fucked up.

I let him take a nap and watched something trashy on TV. Eventually he shlumped out of bed (as much as Lan Zhan ever schlumps which is not a lot) and crashed onto the couch next to me.

We talked some more and he tried to apologize to me. I wasn’t gonna hear it. I got a bit of a more sober re-telling of the reason he was drinking and I did my part to listen.

Despite how much I talk, I can actually listen if the occasion calls for it! Surprising, I know.

We went to bed again eventually after watching more garbage TV together.

And uh.. Yeah…

That’s the adventures of Drunk Lan Zhan.

Sorry I know some of the details are probably wrong. It’s been a while and a lot happened. But yeah. That’s more or less it.

#wangxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei ying #wei wuxian #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Note

So, for Lightning Crashes, can I ask why you went with the choices you went with? Why Ethan & Aiden? (I was under the impression you didn't like them) Why the whole thing with Kali? What happened in Beacon Hills to get everyone together without Scott by the time the story starts. Why the Chimeras as Scott's primary pack? I just reread all five chapters and I'm insanely curious as to what your thought process was because its insanely addiciting.

LOL I’ll have to tackle this in parts so as it not to get too long, but shorter answers first:

1) Why Ethan and Aiden - this one’s pretty simple actually, as its due to what I often say about rarely disliking CHARACTERS so much as just specific ways characters are written. There’s almost no character I can think of offhand that’s just literally someone I can’t think of ways to write them that I’d find likable, interesting or compelling....pretty much all of my frustrations with characters stem only from them so often being written contrary to that, or even more often than not, like....my frustration or dislike of them is just carry-over from being so fed up with other people justifying, glorifying or clinging to the very things I despise about how they’re written.

*Shrugs* The funny-not-really-funny-so-much-as-just-obnoxious thing about Ethan and Aiden is they always had the ingredients to be potentially interesting and even sympathetic characters. Literally the only thing the show had to do differently in order to make me like them instead of dislike them is....not make them complicit in Boyd’s death, let alone then have that complicity largely dismissed or ignored afterwards.

And since I, like an intellectual, simply choose not to have fanfic ideas where Boyd is dead (with the literal exception being Carnival of Souls, since that one is basically entirely about the various character deaths Scott himself felt a degree of guilt towards as of the time he died in S5, with the point being ‘hey what if these characters got to flat out say, oh no, its totally fucked that we’re dead and there are people who absolutely should feel guilty about that but you are pretty much the only one who SHOULDN’T, so make like you’re Lazarus, get up and go give everyone else hell about this instead of settling for staying in a hell of your own making cuz you think you deserve it)’......

Like, that’s really all it takes. I write a version of the show where Boyd is alive and the twins didn’t do a damn thing to him or the others around for 3A, and I have no problem writing a version of those characters that I like instead. Its basically like making every fic a fix-it fic where one of the fixes being tackled is “how do you keep certain characters from being disliked or hated for antiblackness,” and the plot twist is “don’t write them being antiblack.”

Course, I still have trouble coming up with premises or angles from which to write them in any canon-based story that DOES take 3A into account, because like, it doesn’t matter HOW I write them at that point, the characters I’m writing still contain in their core premise of ‘this is who the character is as of the start of this story’ the fact that they were already complicit in Boyd’s death, and thus there’s no getting around the fact that like, any kind of positive approach to their characterizations at that point in MY mind still carries at least some degree of like....me ‘forgiving’ them for their part in Boyd’s death or deciding that ‘they’ve suffered/tried to make up for it enough’ by that point, and like...that’s just not something I’m remotely interested in writing, because frankly, I don’t think its my place to decide that or that my take on what that looks like matters worth a damn.

But AU Ethan and Aiden who never even met Boyd until Chapter 4 of my own story....they’re more or less just Ethan and Aiden shaped characters with similar dialogue patterns, as far as I view them while writing.

(Also, it literally was in large part just a logistical thing as well. Like I actually started writing LC back in S4, and part of the whole premise was I wanted Scott to have his own other pack formed from actual characters who I could pull from elsewhere without taking away from the pack that might conceivably have formed in his absence. I made up Diego because having a Calaveras present is literally a plot point to address problems I had with S4 and its (lack of) aftermath, but I wanted everyone else to at least come from the actual show, and there were only so many characters that were actual options at that point. So its more like logistics is WHY I used Ethan and Aiden, but the above reasoning is why I was able to despite my dislike of them on the show, and without the latter - I think at least - influencing how I wrote these particular versions of them.

The thing about the chimera members of Scott’s pack is I actually went back and REWROTE everything as of Chapter 2 and edited the new versions in to replace what I’d had, in order to include them, because like.....you know me and my fixation on smaller/less utilized characters and their untapped potential. I liked all the chimeras from day one because there was so much that could be done with them and once it was apparent the show really wasn’t going to do much with them period, I decided well instead of writing a whole separate fic in order to explore their characters more, I could just integrate them into Lightning Crashes and tackle a whole bunch of werebirds with one stone, y’know? And then I decided ‘oh no, but I love them’ and I realized too late that adding eight additional characters to a story like LC would almost inevitably add another 100K of plot and sideplots, because what is brainpower even, other than a myth or a Tall Tale, y’know?)

The whole thing with Kali is just a mix of plot and personal issues and projection-upon-the-main-character, and its not the first time I’ve written that particular premise nor is it the last. I’ve done it with Dick Grayson fanfic as well of course. Its kinda just a thing with me. That trope I often come back to for non-trope reasons. There’s a lot of complicated reasons for that, some that are of course pretty obvious but others that are less so, and its a bit much to get into in depth. By which I mean, of course I will, I have no filter and that’s been too well and too long established to bother with one now plus the thing about being so casual about when I’m writing my own issues into fanfic means its not like people aren’t going to draw their own conclusions anyway even if I don’t elaborate so there’s not really any real point not to, lolol. Other than time spent doing so, which means I’ll do that later.

Since now, answering the part about how things worked out differently back in Beacon Hills to lead to the Hale pack forming the way it did while the LC McCall pack formed elsewhere, has inevitably lead to me pulling out the LC file and actually working on it, with the DG story in question as well being open in another window now, because hot tip, the real most effective way to get me to update or add more to literally any story ever is just to get me talking about it. Since it re-energizes me about whatever I was thinking about or wanting to write about that led me to start it in the first place, and also since I’m a perfectionist who ultimately turns to story-telling because I think whichever way I go about writing one IS the best way for me personally to say whatever it is I want to say with one, this inevitably gets me going hang on, there’s a better way to describe what I’m talking about here and its like, via writing the actual story, so hold my beer, gotta go do it right or what’s even the point of answering lololol. Ohhhhh, meeeeee. I’m so deep and inscrutable, honestly what the fuck.

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pain-somnia · 4 years

Note

(1)so, i've been re-reading AOY for like, the third time, and i just wanted to tell u how much i appreciate the way you write all of the characters. i feel like you approach them with empathy, or at least an understanding of some sort. like, you don't ignore their flaws or their virtues, you don't get viciously against or in favor of any of them. and even if your fic is focused on Hyde&Jackie and their relationship, u give depth to almost all of the characters,

(2) none of them could be replaced with a cardboard cutout, u know? and the dynamics in the group are fantastic, everyone matters to everyone in one way or another (although there are different degrees of closeness, of course). a long time ago i had started reading the eric/buddy fic u mentioned, and while it was well written and intriguing, i couldn't get past the first few chapters bc i can't handle fics that are too biased (not to say that it was bad, it just wasn't my thing).

(3) plenty of other t7s fanfics are biased too (to a certain extent), which is fine and completely normal, but idk, i just love that u seem to care for everyone at least a little bit. it's one of the things that makes AOY so compelling to me. i'm looking forward to what's next, especially bc i wanna know how Hyde&Jackie are gonna deal with their new-but-not-really relationship,

(4)and i NEED more Buddy&Fez, and Jackie&Donna. i also i have a good guess as to the ship you're gonna introduce, so i'm excited to see how you're gonna tackle them 👀. anyway, i didn't mean for this message to get so long lmao. hope you're doing well 💕.

First, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY WORK I’m in awe that you re-read it that much (I’m always in awe when ppl re-read my work)

I’m blushing so hard from your compliments. When I first came up with the idea to do this time travel fic I did mostly focus on Jackie and Hyde but then I started to think about the other characters and how Jackie isn’t entirely selfish and she is a compassionate person, so why shouldn’t relationships with other characters be mentioned or highlighted in some way?

(gonna try and put everything under the cut so I don’t clog up the dash but if it doesn’t work I’m so sorry)

Besides the fact that the show was about the group of friends, a huge bit of inspiration for giving more attention to the other characters especially having them do activities with each other especially outside of the basement actually came from my own years as a teen and into my early 20s. The zenmasters fandom is still really new to me unlike the sasusaku fandom so many don’t know about how I got really sick and lost the closeness I used to have with my irl friends due to my illnesses and inability to do all of the things I used to do with them. This is my way of capturing my love for my old friends in a way.

My home used to have the same feeling as Eric’s basement (every time my family moved my house was still THE house) and I was one of like three friends that were licensed (even up to our mid 20s) and I was the only one everyone fully trusted to drive. So in a way I was the Eric of our friend group especially when you add in my mom’s train of thought when it came to my friends and I which was that she would rather us eat everything in her fridge in kitchen and have her go broke feeding us than for us to be out doing stupid shit. It didn’t stop us from doing stupid shit but that was our life lol

we used to trespass into places (abandoned houses, abandoned asylum, parks and fields and lakes when they were closed at night), I had an ex that stole a golf cart from a security guard cuz it was there and the keys were in the ignition and we all fucking scattered when the guy showed up, we would fuck around at my house or another friend’s house and drinking and weed (and acid and shrooms) were usually involved (I was the mom friend so I always took care of everyone and was designated driver), we went to concerts even if we had to drive to other states and also went to Warped Tour almost every year until I got sick af. We would find the perfect places to watch meteor showers and hold bonfires at a friend’s house (although we did start a bonfire in a soccer field we had no business being in at that time at night).

And we would drive around for hours with no destination. We typically told our parents we were going bowling when we did and we never fucking went bowling lol

There’s so much that we did

This is all the energy of my personal experience being a teenager with access to a minivan and then my own car that really made me think about the T7S gang and even though I want to focus so much on Jackie and Hyde and their romance, I feel like I would be doing such a disservice to the friendships in the show by not having them be actual friends in the story.

I’ve had a friend abandoned by her mother and she moved in with a bf and we all helped her (I had to teach her how to cook rice in a pot cuz her bf didn’t have a rice cooker and my mom made sure she knew she could come live with us if she got fed up with her bf’s family) and my family has opened their home to my friend and her family when they were in between homes. I’ve had to help friends through bad trips. We’ve all had our hearts broken. Some of us have dealt with being queer and learning about our own identities and the struggle with finding out who we really are. I found out my father wasn’t my biological father when I was 20 lol

And we all had each other during those moments. Just like how the T7S gang had each other. So I felt personally invested in making sure to elaborate on moments where they were hanging out and being friends to each other.

And I know. God that fic. Whenever I re-ead that fic I actually skip a lot and my last re-read of it made me feel like I couldn’t read it again just because it is way too biased. Like it completely absolves a certain character of everything and I kind of lost it when Brooke had to apologize to him in the fic....I feel like, you should definitely be able to criticize things that you love and that it doesn’t take away any love to recognize the bad with the good.

Like right now I have to show some bias against Kelso for the part of the story but I keep editing it so it’s not complete hate against him. It’s just for this part of the story he is well just being him which is unfortunately ugly and it has to be ugly until he can grow. But I feel guilty about it lol don’t hate me too much for what he has to go through first

Jackie and Donna. I have such a weak spot for them in my fic mostly because for the longest time I didn’t really have many girl friends. I was always too much of a boy, too weird, too ugly for the other girls so I didn’t have someone I was truly super close with until I was in like 8th grade. And there’s this sisterhood with Jackie and Donna that I wish they did better. Like ignoring s8 completely, there just could have been more. But the sweet moments we got were amazing. I just feel like the writers knew fuck all how to make the girls proper friends without feeling like they were losing the characters and how they were.

i will probably be introducing that ship in chapter 8. I’m just struggling wrapping up the last bit of chapter 7 aka the January 31st part. I’ve just been staring at page 56 and wondering if I’m doing it right.

#asks #zenmasters #t7s #that 70s show

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assassin-in-a-hoodie · 4 years

Text

Brooklyn’s Here: Part 3

A/N: thanks to @trekkiehood be reading through my mess or words I call writing and being an amazing person

No. Not Jack. Anyone, dear God please let this not be real. Because it can't be real. This isn't real. This can't be real. I close my eyes, praying for a different human on the ground in front of me bleeding. Anyone. Just….Anyone else. Pick someone else.

But when I open my eyes. It's still Jack.

“....Spot.” Jack coughs then groans in pain.

“Don’t cough.” What do I do?

“Spot….”

“Don't speak either.” I've heard that. I saw a little boy get run over by a car once. The man who helped him told him not to speak. But he had a broken leg. Jack has a knife stuck into him. In one of his most important organs.

“Spot…”

“Jack. Not another word.” My voice is thin, just louder than a whisper. It doesn't even sound like my own. How long have I been kneeling here? A few minutes?An hour? A day?

My left knee is wet. Wet from the puddle of Jack's blood. The stuff slips through my fingers no matter how hard I push to keep it in.

“Take….it...Out.” Jack wheezes out, a pitiful noise. A noise I've only heard come from a dying dog.

No. No. Don't even think about that word. Don’t even think about it. But I can't think.

“Spot.”

“Jack if I move my hands you's be leaking like a busted fire hydrant.”

“Spot, please. Get it out of me!” Jack whimpers. I look from my hands to Jack’s face. He's crying. And very very pale. It's the pain in his eyes that snaps me back into my own mind.

”Jack. It is fine. Jack, you look at me, you’re fine! You’re just fine.” I look into his green eyes for a second before looking back down at the knife. It's not a small swiss army knife blade. But some short handle knives but it has a thick wide blade that seems to have a curve in it. A straight blade is dangerous. But a curved blade…

I don’t know what to do.

What do I use to stop the blood? A hat? His vest?

“Jack. I need your vest off.” I wasn't even gentle about it. I just ripped the thing off of him and balled it up pressing it around the knife. He hisses and tries to move away.

“Have to press hard Jacky or you’ll bleed out. Can’t have that now can we Jack?”

Jack’s head bobs up and down. He’s breaths turn from gasping into heaving. From pain or blood loss, I have no idea. How long does it take for someone to bleed out? How big does a puddle of blood have to get before it's too late?

How am I going to make Jack walk back home?

“Okay,” I press the vest harder around the knife.

“Spot.” Jack shutters.

“Shut up Kelly.”

Think. Think of something. You've been here before. I've seen kids get stabbed before. In the hand, leg, even throat in one case. But this is Jack. I'm still trying to get the two to come into the same world. That it's really his blood on my hands. Jack had been stabbed. There is a knife. Inside Jack. My hands start shaking. I'm losing it. I'm going to lose it if I don't think.

Deep breath. Make a plan. Follow the plan. Step one: help.

I can't leave Jack to go get someone. I can carry Jack, but he's got almost a foot on me. Not impossible but it will hurt him more than me.

Who could I even go to for help? Winnie's is full of Drunk men and Winnie won't leave his Bar 'till everyone is gone, and he won’t will he kick everyone out. It's not the first time I've tried asking for help from him.

Emily. I can trust Emily. I can only imagine how that conversation would go. Hi Emily. I was wondering how to ask your father to ask you out. But first, my friend might die.

“Jack,” I shake him ‘till his eyes crack open, “eyes on me, keep ’em open. You hear me? Eyes open.” Jack's eyes just crack open. Just.

I look at the vest which is quickly getting more and more soaked with Jack's blood with every breath.

Think. Think of anything. And fast. Now. I look into Jack's eyes.

"I don't know how to carry you.” my voice cracks and wobbles. I can not cry. I can not break. I will not break.

It takes two shaking breaths but Jack says, “I've been stabbed. I can't- I can't breathe .”

“I know. I know. Don't think- ”

“I can’t breathe- I can't breathe. There's a knife in me. He-e stabbed me.”

A plan finally clicks into motion. I need to move. Now.

“Jack we are going to move.”

With one hand I'm still pressing his vest around the knife. I have to press my fingers on either side of the blade to keep it from moving, cutting Jack even more. I grab his arm and throw it around my shoulders.

”Jack. Jack we are going to stand up. Stand up now!” I push from the squat and pull Jack up. He turns a sick color of white as he stumbled to his feet and luckily kept upright.

“We are going to walk.” I command Jack. I pull him up higher and squeeze him closer to me. I will not fall, I will not drop Jack.

"I don't think-” Jack starts panting hard from the effort to keep upright.

“Yes you can. It's not that far. Just back to Winnie’s but not Winnie’s. You can and will walk that far Kelly. On three.” I lock my knees and tighten my back for the lift. Jack could weigh more than me, except he's more just skin and bones.

“Kelly. On three. Got it.” I shake him.

Jack doesn't respond.

"One. Two. Three.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Emily saw us coming. I was five steps away from the door and suddenly the door yanked open. Emily looked at me. Then Jack. Then the knife. Back to me. Then the knife. The soft pink in her cheeks drains from her face. Jack was just barely here, he was just dead weight in my arms

"I need help.” I was preparing to battle for any form of help, but Emily steps out of the door and gets under Jack's arm.

When I first saw Emily I thought she was 5’3 maybe a soft 5’4. Emily must stand on a stool behind the counter of sweets. She just comes to Jack's armpit. A pitiful 5-foot shorty.

“In the back.” Is all she says before dragging Jack and I through the storefront. We leave a trail of small spots of blood on the floor to the back. Emily leads us through a side room at the back. The kitchen. The smell of sweet sugar and blood and sweat almost makes sick right there and then.

“There is a bed in the back. We will lay him there”. Emily said, groaning from Jack's dead weight. I pull more of Jack's weight onto me so that there is less on her. She weaves us through racks of donuts and tables of cookies to a small bed at the back door. It's threadbare and seems to be stuffed with straw, but it's somewhere Jack can rest. I lay Jack down and Emily grabs his feet gently lifting them onto the bed.

”We have a first aid box.” Emily turns and rushes off to find a box.

”Jack Kelly, you're still here.” I ask Jack, shaking his shoulder. His eyes are shut tight, teeth grit so tight it hurts just looking at him. If there’s a shade lighter than white, that’s Jack's face.

“Grunt if you're still here kelly.”

A long low grunt from Jack.

”Good. Oh Good. That's good.” I nervously pat him on the shoulder.

Emily comes running back with a very small tin white box with a red X on the front. It looks more like a sewing kit than something that will save Jack.

”I hope you have a miracle in there.”

Emily says nothing as she pushes the small tin box into my bloody hands. I open the box. There is a small roll of bandages, burn cream, scissors, and a few gauze dressings. Better than nothing.

“What's his name?” Emily asks me, examining Jack's knife. It's Jack’s knife now. Does he want to keep the knife after this is all over? It's a nice knife, I might ask him if I can keep it.

“Spot.” Emily's voice is no longer the sweet tone I knew, it's hard and cold and demands a response.

”Jack.” I answer her.

She nods at me, then turns back to Jack shaking his shoulder a bit.

”Jack. My name is Emily.” Emily says to Jack, then she slowly moves away Jack's ruined vest getting a better look at the injury.

”Scissors.” I look into the box and hand her the small pair of silver scissors.

“Jack. I’m cutting your shirt so I can get a better look. I’ll buy you one later.” She says as she quickly starts cutting around the knife.

The shirt was hiding the problem and once it was gone, my onion rings started to bubble up again for a re-taste. I’ve been around some knife wounds. Most just trickle of blood if you leave the blade in.

The blade is curved inside Jack so I knew it would be more blood. But not as much as Jack has been bleeding. The knife wound is also a slash and just from looking at it I know it’s deep, bone-deep. It’s like the man who cut him both stuck him and dragged the knife down a good inch a half. It's not bleeding like a broken pipe, but he's still bleeding.

“ We should.” Emily's voice shakes, her whole body starts to shake, “We need-” Emily closes her eyes, seeming to ground herself for a moment. She clears her throat, opens her eyes, then grabs the gauze from the box. “We need to get the knife out.”

“No,” I said. It will open the flood gates.

“He will bleed out if we don’t. We don’t even know how long the knife-“

“He will bleed out faster if we pull it out-.”

“Did you check to see if the knife hit his lung?.”

“Of course I did!”

“The walk could have nicked it or somethin’. Jack!”

A weight drops into my stomach. What if the knife punctured his lung? Why didn't I pull it out!? He was saying he couldn't breathe. He said he couldn't breathe but I thought-

“Jack, open your eyes!” I shake him all gentle like. Jack's eyes slowly open. Wheezing he turns to me and says, “Spot-” then he coughs. And blood trickles on his lip.

“Why didn't I-” I squeeze my eyes shut and almost just break down right there. I've killed him. I've all and done him in.

“He would have bled out cuz you would have had nothing to pack him with,” Emily says. Pack? Oh, we are not.

“I can’t do that-”

“He might die!” Emily shouts getting into my face. I know that, but it's going to hurt. It hurt so bad that you have to hold the person down and take every weapon away from them kind of pain. And jack… he won’t understand what we're doing to him no matter how long I yell at him. Where are Crutchie and Racer when ya need them?

“We need to get the knife out first,” I say.

“We need to get him on the floor first,” Emily says dragging his feet before I can even tell Jack what is happening.

“Jack we need to put you on the floor,” I say grabbing him under the arms and do my best to lay him gently on the brick floor.

“You hold him down. And I'll get the knife out and pack the wound.” she nods at me to position the few gauze pads she has in that pathetic first aid kit. I brace my hands on his shoulders.

“Jack?” I bend my head down next to him so he can hear me, but he doesn't say a word, maybe he passed out. “Jack, we are going to pull the knife out then pack it okay? You're going to be just fine, Jacky.” I rub his shoulders and give him a small squeeze before putting all my weight on him.

“You can do this right?” I ask Emily. She turns to me and nods.

“Yes,” Emily says and starts to grab the knife but then gasps and leaps to her feet. My heart leaps into my throat.

“What! What's wrong!” I look at Jack's bleeding chest. Is the knife sinking into his chest? Is his lung falling out?

“I forgot to wash my hands!” she takes off running again to a sink.

My heart nearly stops, I slowly release the breath I was holding. I sit back on my heels. Waiting.

“Jack… just hang in there jack.” Jack still says nothing.

Emily comes back after a minute, her hands are a bright red, she kneels back down and checks over everything again.

“Okay. Okay. I'm ready now. Should I pull it out slowly or just pull it out quickly?”

“Just get it out,” I say.

Emily nods at me again and grabs the knife between her small thin fingers and slowly starts pulling it out.

Jack’s eyes snap open and he bucks hard against me and screams.

“Jack don’t move!” I bellow at him holding him down.

“Stop!” Jack screams at me, tears streaming down his face, blood bubbling out of his mouth. He thrashes, kicking at the floor, his arms slap at my face trying to push me away. I put my knees on his shoulders and grab his arms, holding him down. Emily almost has it out.

“Kelly, don't move!” I scream. What if he moves around too much and Emily stabs him in the heart or something.

“It's out!” Emily shouts over Jack, throwing the knife in a corner of the kitchen. With the knife gone, blood flows freely from Jack's chest.

“Packing it!” Emily says. I watch her grab a gauze and stick it inside Jack's chest. Jack howls in pain. Bucking off the floor. Kicking on the floor. Trying to getaway.

“Stop!” He screams so loud my ears pop from the sound. Blood sprays from his mouth and into my face. There is so much blood.

I can’t respond. I don't yell at him to not move. All that escapes me is, “I'm sorry. I’m sorry. I'm sorry.” over and over again still Jack’s eyes roll into the back of his head. The fight leaves him.

Emily has to shake me off of Jack.

“I’m done.” She says. Her face is almost as white as Jack’s. I slowly get off of Jack and help her wrap a bandage around Jack's chest and lay him back into the bed. I want a clean shirt to put on him but Emily doesn't have anything. His blue shirt is cut and stained with his blood. His vest was thrown away.

Home. I need to get him home. Home is an hour's walk away. The knife is gone. I don't have to worry about him bleeding too much now that he has cotton inside, nested between his ribs. I am drained, but I need to get him home to be stitched up.

“I need to get him home,” I say.

“What?” Emily’s brown eyebrows crunch up.

“I need to get him home.”

“Where does he live?” She asks, wringing her hands together. She has fidget hands. Kinda funny how those hands just pulled a knife out of my brother.

“Manhattan.”

“There is no way you are going to walk that far. Especially at night!”

The setting sun now. No more in fifteen minutes left of sunlight now. I need to send someone to let Crutchie and Race know what's up, those boys are probably worried sick.

“No, I’m taking him home with me. I'll figure out what to do in the morning.” I say scooping an arm under Jack's legs and chest. I pick him up. He's really wheezing now. It could just be me, but he feels smaller and lighter in my arms. Or maybe I'm not as short as I think, or… Jack’s not that much bigger than me.

“You have a back door?” I ask. Emily just knows and leads me to a small wooden door that opens up to an ally away.

“You live far away from here?”

“No.” I lie.

“Okay, umm, come by or send someone to give me an update, okay?”

I give her a nod. And turn down the alleyway and start the long walk home.

“Hang on Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My arms are shaking so bad I'm afraid I'll drop Jack once I step over the threshold. Anyone who I passed on the streets who gave me a look on the trek back home I gave them a look that would curdle milk. Its night now. Just the moonlight to.see by. As we near the lodging house I could see the lights from candles and lanterns flickering in the poor cracked or broken windows. The house is probably just settling in for the night. But some of the Brooklyn boys never really sleep, we have some boys that stay up all night just for the kicks of it.

When I kicked in the door, all eyes turn to me and Jack. The whole house inhales, then exploded. Playing cards flu, chairs are toppled over, and drinks are spilled all over the floor. Everyone is in my face with questions in a matter of seconds.

”Shut it!” I shout at them. Every wagging jaw snaps shuts.

”Mutter!” I call out making my way to the stairs to the small bunk room on the second floor. Mutter appears, weaving through the crowd of boys. His eyes go big marbles as he holds out his hands to help, but I keep Jack close to me.

“I need stuff to stitch him up with, clean pants and shirt. I need someone to go on a run.” I turn and pick a boy out of the crowd. A small boy with dusty blond hair and a red sleeveless shirt.

“You. Take a run. Tell Race and Crutchie to get up here as fast as they can.”

“But it’s a three hour-” the boy starts to whine.

“You will get there in an hour and a half even if it kills you. Go now.”

The boy's mouth opens to say something smart, I cut him off.

“Go now or I leave this house forever.” I would never kick a boy out. But tonight with Jack's limp body, and his pleading screams telling me to stop hurting him still echoing fresh in my mind's ear. I just can’t. I'm done.

The boy turns and takes off running. I continue toward the staircase and start down the hall.

”The rest of ya whos is awake, Hit all the gambling places, sell your shoes, don’t care if you have to steal. We need money.”

Everyone stands around, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind.

“NOW!” I snap at them. They scramble around like rats for a second before all squeezing out the front door.

I carry Jack into the bunk room and sit him down on my bed. Soft snores echo off the walls from the small figures in the dimly-lit room. How can they sleep at a time like this?

Mutter is already there holding a lit candle and our small medical kit.

I gently lay Jack down one last time, on my bed to just rest. To just sleep. I want to sleep.

“I've got this. Clean yourself up.” Mutter whispered. I wanted to stay, but when I look down at my blood crusted fingers and the blood on my shirt from Jack, I think better of it.

“I’ll come back with clean clothes,” I say turning to the small washroom.

I grab the small bar of lye soap and a scrub brush. I scrub at the lines in my palms and run one fingernail under the other fingernails to get Jack's blood out.

What if infection sets in? Or his lung collapses, do we even have anything to relieve the presser? What if he's bleeding from the inside and I don't know it? What if Jack doesn't stop bleeding. What if...what if Jack dies?

My hands are red from the harsh scrub brush.

”Stop.” I tell myself, ”Jack is going to be fine. Jack is going to be fine.” I put down the brush and dry off my hands. I take off my red shirt and scrub the blood out the best I can. There plenty of bloodstains on my shirt, what is one more going to hurt.. I hang it over a chair. An older boy come by and give me a clean blue shirt and brown pants for Jack.

I get back to Jack's side when Mutter was just getting the last stitches put in. twelve perfect stitches are now line Jack's ribs. It will leave a big scar.

Mutter helps me put the clean shirt onto Jack's sleeping body. I pulled the blanket up to Jack's chin making sure he was warm. Mutter grabs the medkit and reaches out to give my shoulder a reasserting squeeze. But I slap his hand away. I don't need comforting. Mutter gives me a hurt look before walking away to sleep or stay awake, either way, I didn't care. I just don’t care.

I pulled up a chair next to jack keeping a watchful eye on him.

I didn't sleep.

#newies agnst #Newsies fanfic #Broadway Newsies #Jack Kelly #jack kelly imagine #Jack Kelly Fanfic #Spot Conlon #spot conlon imagine #Spot #Spot conlon newsies #Crutchie #Newsies crutchie #Newsiws Racer #racetrack higgins #oc character #Emily is mine #sorry if its hard to read

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simplylove101 · 4 years

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Random Tangent About Ships & Cheating SLs

So, I was talking with my friend Lauren (@backtothestart02) yesterday about how when it comes to watching our shows and seeing certain ships of ours having cheating sls & how that affects how we feel towards them. This convo kinda came about cuz of the recent development we’ve heard about on Riverdale where Betty & Archie are gonna be cheating on their respective significant others with each other in the next episode... Which, okay, at this point I don’t even watch the show anymore since it sounds like it’s pretty much on crack these days (at least more than usual lol) so this isn’t your typical rant about “OMG HOW DARE YOU MESS WITH MY OTP LIKE THAT” in regards to that sl (re: yes, Bughead was my ship when I watched it but my investment in the show has been pretty much non-existent for way over a year now so that’s not my goal with this rant fyi lol) It’s just more the frustration of the excitement I’ve seen from people being all “YAY CHEATING” Cuz, yeah ok, it’s a silly TV show. Obviously. I get that lmao It’s just the reactions I’ve been seeing that are funny cuz there’s people who talk about toxic relationships and normally how cheating is a dealbreaker but in this one specific case we’re all suddenly cool with it... Okay lmao but yeah, if the ship has to happen because a character died or cheating is involved... doesn’t that already cheapen that new relationship too (and their character development along with it? lol)

Anyway, I actually just really wanted to use this as a chance to rant about my ships that made me deal with cheating sls and why those are basically the worse “obstacles” a show can throw at ships. At least that is, if you want people to root for them long term. lol Cheating obviously happens in real life, but then that’s usually the end of a relationship. Which is why I don’t think it’s surprising that when it comes to fiction, I find the element of cheating to be something that kinda taints my otps for me if it occurs in the story.

I can think of a couple of cases where I was able to accept it cuz the show mostly did right by them after the situation by showing the growth and how that would never been an issue again. But the cases where the cheating happens and it just feels like this thing that makes it so you can’t enjoy any of the things that came before it with that couple? That sucks. It feels cheap and like, really bad writing.

I think my thoughts on this subject stems all the way back to my very first TV ship: Jackie & Hyde from That 70′s Show. Anyone who really watched that show remembers that 2 episode arc of where Hyde thought Jackie cheated on him with Kelso (she hadn’t ofc but he did see her comforting him in a way that would be suspicious considering Kelso had wanted her back) so he cheated on her with a random nurse as payback. I remember watching the next episode heartbroken at the scene where Hyde has to tell her what he did after he realizes that he pulled that move for no reason at all and Jackie ultimately breaks up with him on the spot. Which I applauded her for. Because the girl had gotten cheated on by Kelso so much that she vowed that she wouldn’t let that happen to her again. Her relationship with Steven was supposed to be different, and up until that point, had been. It was a step back for all the development they had spent with them all season, but with how raw Hyde was during that scene and the scene where he tells Jackie that he loves her (evidenced by the fact that he actually isn’t wearing his usual sunglasses in either of those scenes), it can be said that it was clearly just a momentary regression. Do I think they could have handled it better towards getting them back together? Yeah. But then it was a sitcom so you gotta keep that in mind too. lol Otherwise, they mostly did right by them once they were back together until things got shaky again. But then this rant isn’t about how they deserved the endgame they were supposed to get and were robbed of. LOL But yeah, this is one of the rare cases they weren’t completely tainted for me.

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(For those of you that have never seen this ep....)

Another case of a ship where cheating happened, but in this case did have my ship pretty much tainted for me at the time was Joan & Adam on Joan of Arcadia. This is more a lowkey scenario cuz nobody who sees this will know them basically but I loved them dearly and I watched that show (pun not intended at all lol) religiously when it was on so when that sl came very much out of nowhere I was (I’d say) rightfully upset about it. There was no reason to have Adam cheat on Joan. It was just plain character assassination of a fan favorite, and for what? Drama??? I still have no idea. All I know it was a far cry from the boy who charmed his way into Joan’s heart in S1 who wasn’t even thinking about sex when they got together (Heck, *she* was the one who thought they were supposed to have sex in S1 at one point and again, that wasn’t even on his radar at the time lol). Enter later S2, he makes her feel pressured about them doing it a bit and then later he cheats on her with this random girl that we saw a couple times talking to him because of this... Um?? That’s just bad writing cuz it’s OOC. lol What’s worse is that Joan found out about this in the 19th episode of the season so when the show got cancelled, there had been barely any development after that. There was some since there was like 3 episodes or so after that, which meant there was just enough time to get them to a sorta neutral place with each other since they had the same friend group but otherwise, not much closure for shippers. Which was frustrating. You can’t just take that sharp of a turn in the story that late in a season with an unguaranteed next season with your main couple, especially if the cheating is coming out of left field. You just can’t, not if you want me to root for them at least. So.... yeah. That was bad. lol Definitely an example of why sometimes cheating does not need to be a storyline on a show.

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(For context...)

I was trying to think if there were any ships before this one that i would want to mention, and there might have been, but I can’t think of them at the moment. Which means next on the list is Zoe & Wade on Hart of Dixie. They’re still a big otp for me, which does show I was able to move past their cheating sl but again, they did get tainted a bit too. In some ways, their sl gave me some deja vu with Jackie & Hyde. At least in the way that the guy chooses to sleep with someone in a very rash way, and you just know this is gonna lead to an automatic breakup the second the girl finds out. There was no denying Zoe was gonna break up with him. It was heartbreaking to watch her come to the realization that he had cheated on her. And it was frustrating because it felt like they only got to be a proper couple for like maybe 4 episodes and then they pulled that move. It was like, you’ve been setting me up to root for this couple and... now what? They had undeniable chemistry so I guess the writers always counted on that for when they would ultimately bring them back together and they were right. I was able to root for them again, and it helped there had been some time that had passed (a whole season of them not being together!) and I was missing them a lot. But that said, it still felt like a misstep. Because when you wanna write a breakup, we should just throw in a cheating sl then? There were plenty of other ways to break up Zade, but they went in that direction. It just felt very lame, lazy and pure character regression in a way that didn’t make sense with the story they were telling imo. They were able to show that Wade had matured later on so it worked out, but this is one that made me upset so thank goodness they made up for it. lol

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(I dare you not to tear up lol)

Okay, the last ships I’m gonna mention briefly are both on The Bold Type.

Everyone in that fandom has expressed their frustration with how they handled the Kadena sl where Kat cheated and then they tried to have a open relationship to let her explore a bit or whatever in S2. I actually get where it wasn’t that bad cuz Adena told her she could see the other girls. Enter the next season, Kadena have sex when Kat is still in a relationship technically (I don’t care if she got the approval to see if there were still feelings there or not from Tia, that didn’t mean sleep with the ex. That meant talk) This is one of those cases where for me, cheating is never the ideal way to bring a ship back into the story. I know it happens but this didn’t make Kat or Adena look that great as characters for me. I know shit happens, just saying from a preference. Not gonna get deep into the awkwardness of S4 between these two, beyond saying that after S1, it does seem like the writers don’t fully know how to write them now still. They were a fan favorite ship for the show, and I think despite the bad writing for them sometimes in these later seasons, still are, but they really gotta start being more consistent with them if they want them to be rootworthy again. And please write Adena in character my goodness. The way they wrote her in 4x07 was just not it.

Which brings me to Janestripe,

They seriously dedicated a whole first half of a season dragging out the reveal that Ryan did more than kiss the lady he cheated on Jane with. I know beforehand the majority of the fandom hated Ryan already and thought Jane should have been with Ben instead, which honestly... ok, whatever. I still say Jane was having doubts about Ben so she was already starting to check out of that relationship a bit before Ryan declared his feelings for her at the end of S2. That said, once again, cheating isn’t ideal so I liked that Jane turned him down until she broke things off with Ben. I think people forget that the person in the middle of a triangle is making a choice and just cuz it’s not the choice you the viewer wanted doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be the wrong one. Frankly, Ben was kinda dry for me. Idk. Anyway, I appreciated that they were trying to tell a story of growth for Ryan... Until they weren’t. lol They really could have kept it as a kiss but they started planting those little signs that it wasn’t between Ryan looking guilty during convos and then him telling the story again about what happened & it sounding like bullshit. We all knew but they made us wait 9 eps for Jane to figure out. Which was frustrating. I get what message they were trying to send in the end and I respected that but they couldn’t do it faster?? They were sending a lot of signs they were making them endgame by showing how serious they were getting but now? I don’t see them ever interacting again, unless they did find a reason to bring Ryan back but Idk. I just don’t get painting them in that kinda light if you were just planning to tear them down before the season was even over, you know? They could have just ended them in S3 and I would have got it. But they dragged it out into a whole another season and why??? lol

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I’m trying to figure out what more I wanna say about this topic. lol Beyond just thinking that I can’t stand cheating sls. I can barely stand any kinda love triangle sls as it is. Why must these tropes exist?? All they do is cause drama in fandoms. Which is prob why I don’t do them in the first place. lol

Anyway, I’m done now. lol

#shipper rant #don't mind me idek if any of this was coherent #i just had to get it out lol

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meowloudly15 · 5 years

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Stranded: Day 8 - SOMETHING OLD SOMETHING NEW

WARNING: LONG RANT INCOMING

I got two very nice comments from The Evil Author on FFN and wanted to reply but couldn't cuz he's got the PM feature turned off. So, here are my replies. They contain info that you all would probably like to see.

First of all, thank you for reading and reviewing!

Second, yes, there are discrepancies between the canon and this fic, and I won't claim that this fic is set in canon. I misremembered some information from Spiderverse when writing this fic, before Netflix posted it. Three major differences come to mind:

1. In the movie, Miles was at Visions Academy for at least a couple months before Gwen showed up. In this fic, he shows up at roughly the same time that she does. Changing this element to make it canon would affect little to none of the plot.

2. In the movie, Kingpin's collider is at the basement of his penthouse, and the Alchemax facility is located a considerable distance away. It doesn't hold a collider. In this fic, the Alchemax facility is where the original collider is, and it's considerably closer, only about twenty minutes away as the spider swings. (The new one will be at Kingpin's penthouse.) Changing this element to make it canon would affect the plot pretty significantly. (E.g. how would Gwen know to be at Alchemax at the time at which Miles and Peter B. are there?)

3. In the movie, the spiders recognise each other upon first glance, or even when they are near each other, like when Gwen is at her locker and Miles passes behind her. (This is, however, not incredibly consistent, as the B-Team doesn't recognise the others until after their introductions are over.) In this fic, Spider-Pete doesn't recognise Gwen as a fellow spider when they meet face-to-face. Changing this element to canon would probably affect the plot.

And finally, I shall never abandon this fic. It will be completed, come hell or high water.

Thanks to everybody who has bore (beared? borne? boreded?) with me through these past few months. I hope the schedule slips haven't impeded your enjoyment of the fic. As always, enjoy!

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Gwen looked down at the two startled spidermen, sizing them up.

SOMETHING OLD SOMETHING NEW

That could mean any number of confusing, conflicting things. She decided to judge them only on the basis of what she could see.

The spiderman on the left was dressed in the exact same style of suit that Spider-Pete had worn. However, he was wearing sweatpants and no shoes and otherwise looked considerably less dignified. (Of course, that could have been because he was trussed up like a snared insect.)

The one on the right was smaller and younger-looking. He wore a cheap Spiderman costume and basketball shoes and had dark skin. Could he be Miles?

"Gwanda?"

Yep, definitely Miles.

"It's Gwen, actually."

The guy on the left spoke up. He sounded like Spider-Pete, except his throat sounded like it was filled with sand. "Oh, so you know her. That's cool."

"Long story short, we met in school."

"The long story can wait. Are you gonna let us down?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I don't know, would you rather stay here?"

"Okay, enough sarcasm. Let us go."

She obligingly leaped to the higher branches and yanked the weblines free. Anti-Spider-Pete and Miles both plummeted to the ground.

It couldn't hurt to show off a bit more.

She tossed the computer to Miles, then dove backwards out of the treetop, intending to shoot a webline and slowly descend to the snowy surface.

JAMMED FINGERS

Rats. She'd forgotten to repair her webshooters last night.

Of course, both of Gwen's gloves misfired, and she plummeted headfirst to the ground. Served her right for trying to show off.

"You okay, man?" asked Miles, handing the computer back to Anti-Spider-Pete.

"That was completely intentional."

Anti-Spider-Pete nodded. "Sure it was."

Gwen smacked her gloves against her leg and dusted the snow off of her suit. "Let's get going before Alchemax shows up with bigger guns. Where are you guys headed?"

Anti-Spider-Pete shrugged. "Uh, I dunno, someplace where we can make another goober?"

Gwen blinked, then nodded. It was best to just play along. "Okay, I'm coming with."

"I, uh, I like your haircut," said Miles, his eyes looking anywhere but at her haircut.

Gwen furrowed her brow. "You don't get to like it. C'mon, let's go."

She took off, Anti-Spider-Pete hot on her heels.

Miles muttered, "How many other spider-people are there?"

"Save it for Comic-Con." Anti-Spider-Pete webbed the back of Miles' shirt and yanked him along for the ride.

What was Comic-Con? Was it like DashCon?

"Where are we headed?" asked Gwen.

"The bus station. We gotta find a lab or something."

Gwen was not opposed to the idea of taking the bus instead of using her dysfunctional webshooters, but she didn't know why Anti-Spider-Pete would do so.

"Why the bus?"

"'Cuz it's less exhausting. Plus, Miles isn't too good at this spider business."

Miles, still dangling from Anti-Spider-Pete's webline, nodded reluctantly.

Gwen nodded. Her suspicions were correct. Miles had gotten his powers very recently, possibly after she had arrived at Visions Academy. No wonder her spider-sense wasn't triggered as strongly by his presence in the beginning.

Speaking of which, there was a constant faint buzzing at the nape of her neck. Was it just because, as was repeatedly said, Anti-Spider-Pete and Miles were like her? Or was something more sinister at play here?

There was only one way to find out.

The bus station wasn't far from Alchemax. A small concrete terrace with a glass roof stood 80 yards from the parking lot. Anti-Spider-Pete and Miles ran to pick up two coats that had been unceremoniously discarded on the ground not far away.

Darn it. Gwen had left her street clothes in Alchemax. Well, it didn't matter at this point. She still had the school uniform at Visions, at least.

They all pulled off their masks and boarded a bus. Miles dumped a handful of spare change into the farebox. The bus driver muttered something about "nutty cosplayers".

Serendipitously, the bus was nearly empty, aside for the bus driver and a half-asleep middle-aged man at the front.

Was Anti-Spider-Pete actually named Peter? He looked enough like him, except he was older. Much older. Definitely a lot worse for wear. His nose looked like it had been broken and re-healed at least a dozen times. He also had a fading black eye and a five-o-clock shadow. At least his hair was brown. That was normal.

"What's your name?" Gwen asked.

"I'm Miles," said Miles.

"I know your name. I don't know his." Gwen gestured to Anti-Spider-Pete.

"My name's Peter B. Parker."

"Specifically with the B?"

Anti-Spider-Pete shrugged. "Yeah. The B stands for B-"

"You know what, it doesn't matter," Gwen interrupted. "Nice to meet you."

"You too. What's your full name again?"

"Gwen Stacy."

Peter B. blinked, and his smirk vanished. Coincidentally, the bus passed into a tunnel.

Why had her name turned his countenance so sour? Was it… wait. That was the same reaction that she had had upon seeing Spider-Pete for the first time.

Gwen decided to lighten the mood. "Or, if you're my dad when he's angry, it's GWENDOLYN MAXINE STACY, GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU WALKED IN HERE AT MIDNIGHT WITH TWO BLACK EYES AND A LIMP!" Gwen switched to the best impersonation of her dad that she could manage.

Miles laughed. Peter B. cracked a grin, though he still seemed uneasy, even wistful.

"What was it like?" asked Miles. "I mean, like, what was it like back in your dimension?"

"Well, uh, I've been Spider-Woman for the past 2 years."

Gwen mentally facepalmed. She was Ghost Spider now. Old habits were hard to break.

"And yeah, normal superhero stuff happened. Saved my dad. Joined a band. I don't know if that's normal, but still. But…"

Gwen hesitated. She needed to mention the really important moment, the moment that had truly kicked off her superhero career. But she couldn't bring herself to talk about it. She was supposed to forget about it! She couldn't just… tell people about it!

"... I couldn't save… my best friend. So, now I save everyone else. And I don't do friends anymore. You know, to avoid distractions."

Gwen parenthetically wondered if "everyone else" included herself. No, she was too far gone. She was a ghost. But back to the story.

"Then I got sucked into this portal, and it sent me here. I got blown into last week. Literally.

"Long story short, I got arrested, broke out of jail, beat up a gang, found my way to Visions Academy, impersonated a Russian, stole government files, broke into Alchemax, got sedated by Doc Ock, broke out of Alchemax, got a new haircut, broke into Alchemax again, broke in a third time, and now I'm here."

Miles and Peter B. stared at her.

"Could you say that again, but slower?" asked Miles.

Gwen facepalmed. "Okay, long story even shorter, my spider-sense told me to go to Visions Academy. Then I met you there."

"Oh. That's cool."

"So, uh, Peter, how 'bout you?"

She was genuinely interested in hearing about Peter B.'s experiences. Maybe he would hint at why her name made him so sad.

Peter B. sighed, as though he was sick of telling his origin story. "Where I'm from, for the past 22 years, I've been the one and only Spiderman. Pretty sure you know the rest. I saved the city, fell in love, saved it again, got married, saved it some more, maybe too much. Had some marital issues, made a couple dicey money choices. Never invest in a spider-themed restaurant.

"Then you know, typical superhero stuff over the next few years, kept saving the city, broke my back, a drone flew into my face. I buried Aunt May. My wife and I split up… but I handled it like a champ."

Peter B. started blinking hard to suppress his tears.

"Did you know that seahorses mate for life? I mean, can you just imagine being a seahorse and seeing another seahorse and making it work?

"She wanted kids. I… It scared me.

"Well, all of a sudden, I got pulled through this real weird portal thing one day. And weird things happen to me a lot, but this was really weird. Like, really. What was even weirder was that here, I was dead. And blond. Dunno why. Maybe I should dye my hair."

Miles chuckled a little. "Hey, wait a minute. What if Spiderman from here had dyed hair? I mean, think about it. He dyed, and then he died. You know?"

Gwen and Peter B. blinked.

"Yeah, that wasn't funny," said Peter B. He leaned back and rested his feet on the seats on the other side of the aisle.

"Okay, maybe a little. Good try," countered Gwen. "So, uh, what's your plan now?"

"We're gonna make another one of these," said Miles. He lifted a broken flash drive out of his pocket and held it out. "It's an override key, for the collider."

"A goober," corrected Peter B.

A what?

"Yeah, a goober, whatever. But Peter broke it."

Gwen examined the flash drive. "He did?"

"Yeah, but keep that between you and me." Miles switched to a confidential whisper. "He's embarrassed about it."

Gwen could have heard Peter B.'s eye roll from three counties over. She chuckled.

RELATIVE CHAOS

"Hang on, I think I know a place where we might be able to get help." She handed the "goober" back to Miles, who stowed it away.

"To make another goober?"

"Yeah. I hope so. Probably."

Gwen pulled out her notebook and flipped through it until she found Mrs. Parker's address. She tore out the page and handed it to Peter B. "This is the place."

"Neat. Then here's where we'll go."

After a minute of slightly awkward silence, Miles said, "Uh, I'm... sorry about your friend."

"Don't worry about it," Gwen replied. "But thanks."

That was nice of him. Miles seemed like a nice kid. Awkward and goofy, perhaps, but nice. Confused and weirded out by his powers, for sure, but nice nevertheless. Quite the opposite of herself. At least he had help. The poor kid deserved help.

"I know how hard it is, having to figure all this stuff out on your own," she said.

"Yeah, it's nice not being the only spider-person around."

"Definitely."

Miles hesitated before continuing. "You… wanna take a selfie or something? You know, two spider-people from different dimensions chilling together? In the same dimension?"

Gwen grinned. "Yeah, why not?"

She lifted her phone. She and Miles smiled for the camera.

"Wait, can I-" Peter B. started to say.

The camera clicked.

"C'mon! I wanted to be in it!" groaned Peter B.

"I mean, you're in the selfie. Just not your face. And, you know," Gwen smirked. "That might be a good thing."

Peter B. heaved a sigh. "Teenagers are the worst," he muttered under his breath.

"So now, like, how are you gonna get the picture to me?" asked Miles. "Can… uh… can I have your number?"

"Uh, I dunno if that'll work. You know, this phone's from another dimension and all that. So… huh." Gwen pressed her hand to her forehead and thought.

"Just air-drop it to each other," said Peter B.

Miles and Gwen exchanged a look. "What's air-drop?" they asked simultaneously.

"You're Gen-Z-ers, and you don't know what air… right. Different universe. Here." Peter B. sighed and sat upright. "I'll show you how it works."

Gwen hadn't realised how embarrassing it was to be taught how to use technology by a guy who was probably old enough to be her dad. Spoiler alert: it was very embarrassing.

Miles hesitated for a moment, looking back and forth between the photo on his phone and Gwen. "Uh, if you ever want to do friends again, I'll keep a slot open."

Gwen froze.

She wasn't going to open up to Miles. Not so soon. Not here. Not now. Not yet.

At the same time, she did get lonely. Not that she would ever admit it.

He was a nice guy. He wouldn't make a bad friend.

No. Not a chance. Gwen wasn't going to open up just so she could get hurt again. Or hurt someone else again.

"I'll... keep you posted."

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#spidergwen #spider gwen #spider-gwen #gwen stacy #ghost spider #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #stranded #stranded fanfic #long post #marvel #writers on tumblr

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auntie-diluvian · 5 years

Note

What would have happened in chapter 2 if you decided to write it?

Eek I’m so sorry I took so long to answer this!

The longer I think about it, the more I think a second part would have really jumped the shark any way I’d have written it, but I did have some thoughts*, which got… uh, kinda long (hence me taking forever to answer your ask), so I’m gonna put them beneath a cut if I can figure out how.

Some of this was sort of charted out in a long chat between me and Py (specifically I think the bit with Papyrus showing up, which I think was her idea?), but that conversation was so long ago it’s been lost to the sands of time (and tumblr chat having no search function), so most of this is new and specific to the version I posted.

I had a couple of scenes in my head that were a little more defined, the rest was just kind of vague, and it never came to a conclusion, really. So I guess, in theory, all of those “Reader goes to Italy and carboloads themself into personal fulfillment, Sans dies of skelesyphilis, and his gf fucks off somewhere” fantasies can still happen. If, you know, by the end of me rambling about this, any of that still sounds, oh god, you know, fuck, appealing, or whatever. If not, then uhhh whoops sorry I don’t have any ending for you at all, my dude.**

Also this hasn’t been beta’d or anything, I didn’t want to give it the same status as the stuff I actually publish, just like, on principle? so like. keep your expectations in check maybe? especially re: some of the most cliche and melodramatic dialogue I’ve written to date lol

The first scene was to take place on Jan 2nd:

Your friend, the one you’re now glad isn’t speaking to you, is standing at your door, anxiously clutching a small, rectangular cardboard box bearing a sticker you recognize as the logo of your favorite bakery. She speaks to you, and you feel your stomach flip.

“Um, so, these are for you. Uh, happy new year, by the way, and um, the frosting probably got a little smushed- you know how high they like to pile it on. But, you know, they’re fresh, so- should be good. Got your favorites.”

She hands you the box and you peek inside. Cupcakes, of course. Half the frosting’s on the lid, like she said, and you stare at them, dumbfounded. Can’t look at her.

She clears her throat.

“I know what I’m like, sometimes. I can be melodramatic and petty and- and self-destructive. I do dumb shit like drive away my closest friend with the silent treatment because I didn’t get the answer I wanted. I’m so sorry. You were right, and, god, furthermore? The entire thing was just… stupid, you know? Can you forgive me?”

You sway on your feet, dizzy.

“Of course.”

She steps forward and hugs you, and as her arms wrap around you, so does an awful panic.

Your cell phone is burning a hole in the pocket of your bathrobe, from the text you had received ten minutes prior, alerting you to your friend’s impending arrival:

Sans: she’s coming over to your place. please don’t tell her anything. i’ll figure something out. sorry to ask you to do this. i’ll make it up to you

Sans: ok that sounded wrong. not what i meant. everything sounds wrong though

Sans: i’m sorry

“Oh, thank you,” she says, sounding more grateful than she should, her scarf tickling your cheek. “That’s such a relief. Thank you.”

Really just laying that guilt on thick. Uhhh let’s see, after that:

You tell her you’re sick just to get her to go away and she believes you because you look horrible and are wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon

Cue angst about furthering the extent of your dishonesty

The next day she texts you just to “catch up” but in the middle of it, drops that Sans has been more than usually distant. They talked about so much and she knows it’s going to take time for things to get better, but since that first conversation on New Year’s Day, he’s kind of shut down-

But enough about her problems, what’s been going on with you? Oh, Not Much, you tell her. You’re still getting over your cold but you’ve gone back to work. It’s the truth, more or less. You have the sniffles, at any rate, though that’s more due to your daily extended heartbreak/guilt crying alone sessions than any physical malady.

A week later, your friend is back to sending you memes and talking about her job, your favorite shows you watch. Sans is living with her. Everything is normal, on the surface. Sans chimes in on the group chat every now and again, but that’s it. Not another word from him. The awful feeling in the pit of your stomach has faded to a dull ache that only bothers you at night.

Which is why it’s a total surprise when Papyrus shows up on your doorstep one evening and lets himself in. You didn’t even know he was in town. You’ve met him a few times, loved the guy, but he’s not here for a social call.

Well, okay, he is, but it’s not a pleasant one. He is. So. Disappointed. In you. He’s prepared a speech! To express the enormity of your fuckup.

About the 45-second mark of which, you break down sobbing. He stops immediately and grabs you a glass of water and a cool washcloth for your neck.

He apologizes as you calm down, and you have a long talk with him about the hows and the whys. It’s incredibly cathartic, you’ve never told anyone about any of this situation, and you’re drained by the time you’re done. But as he leaves, he has this look on his face and you hate it- pity tinged with trace amounts of leftover dismay, so it’s a relief to lock yourself in for the evening, even if the alternative (i.e. being alone with your thoughts and your guilt and everything else) isn’t much better.

An hour or two later, you get another text from Sans: “i’m sorry again, i didn’t know he was gonna do that.”

Interrupting myself here to say as an aside, so much for a synopsis of my vague concept; this is now going on 800 words. Look at all this work you definitely made me do that I didn’t put on myself at all. Anyway.

Sans text, continued: “he’s in town cuz of me, though, so i think i gotta listen to him. he’s uh saying we should get together and talk about how i”

“hang on”

Five minutes later: “scratch that i’m not listening to him.”

Ten full minutes later: “we can have lunch tomorrow. to talk. if you want. you don’t have to agree to it. i’ll understand.”

It’s about two in the morning when you finally respond: “Where and when?”

He replies immediately.

It’s a good sandwich. A shame you can’t do much more than just poke at it and nibble at the toppings that have fallen out of it onto the wax paper basket liner. And the bag of chips is completely out of the question. You’ve already put them away for later, for when you might eventually start regretting skipping lunch because of the awful somersaults your innards keep doing. Sans’s sandwich isn’t faring much better- he’s twirling his frilly-ended toothpick between his fingers, occasionally poking it into his dill pickle wedge.

Neither of you has said a word past your perfunctory greeting and the order you’d both placed at the counter eight minutes ago. The rest of the sandwich shop doesn’t seem to care, though. Most of its other patrons are absorbed in getting their order and getting out, or making the most of their too-brief lunch hour. It’s noisy, and it would be the perfect setting for the conversation you’re supposed to be having, you credit Sans with that much. If you could just speak.

You’re staring off over his shoulder, at the display rack of different brands of hot sauce, when he startles you by biting off over half of his pickle, chewing, and swallowing with his eyes closed and a sigh.

“thanks for… you know, not telling her yet.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” you say with enough sourness to give that pickle a run for its money.

“no, yeah, i know- i just. yeah. i’ll tell her, though. soon. uh, -ish.”

“Will you tell me when you do it? I don’t think I can take another unexpected visitor, and I-” you laugh, ”-I’m going nuts checking my phone, panicking at every single notification.”

“‘course. yeah.”

“Okay. Thanks. For that.”

“sure.”

You tear off a piece of sliced turkey that’s hanging out the edge of your sandwich.

“…can i say somethin’?”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“i didn’t- uh, know you had- i just thought you were riding the same wave of… whatever that was, as me.”

He clears his throat.

“i didn’t know you felt that w- i mean, that you had actual feelings for- at least, not until you started sayin’ all those things–”

“–I changed my mind, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He ducks his head.

“yeah, okay.”

You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing as you scramble for something, anything, else to say.

“So. Uh, how’s, um, y'know, everything else?”

He blinks, shakes his head, and laughs.

“what, you really wanna know? or are you askin’ just to ask?”

Shit. No, you don’t really want to know.

“Yeah. I wanna know.”

He leans back, the plastic of the chair back creaking, and looks out the window behind you.

“shit… it’s all… it’s all fallin’ apart on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, already a well-honed reflex.

“not your fault, really. in the end. i’m just already tired. a week ago, this’s all i wanted, for everything to go back to normal. but it turns out normal was just a lot of her pretending she could stand me. and we’re not pretending, anymore. so… but that’s supposed to help us sort everything out, right?”

Goddamn your bleeding heart that got you into this in the first place.

“feels capricious of me, right? but if it’s gonna end, why can’t it just end already? but i’m not allowed to give up yet, because that’s not what we’re doing, we’re working through our issues.”

He pushes his basket over to the seat next to him, and folds his arms on the table, head nestled into them.

“even though giving up is all i wanna do anymore,” he says, voice muffled by his sleeves.

“Every relationship requires work, Sans,” you say. Platitudinal, but true, if not particularly helpful.

“but at what point do you cut your losses? is it before or after the seventieth thing this week she tells you you’ve been doing wrong all along that she never bothered to mention to you before? you know she prefers the loose end of the tp to come out underhanded? i didn’t. she’s wrong, but hey, fuck- anything for my baby. i’m tired. i didn’t know it was gonna be like this.”

Underhanded toilet paper rolls? Do you even know who she is?

“i should just go ahead and tell her about this whole thing, already, see if that- i dunno, breaks us beyond repair. but if i do that now when all our wounds are still fresh, i don’t get to say i tried to fix things, and i guess on some level, i need that.”

He rubs his face.

“fuck, listen to me whine. i’m making it sound worse than it is. ”

“Dude, I don’t know. I’m still horrified by the toilet paper thing.”

He snorts.

“i don’t even use the stuff much, so it wasn’t worth makin’ a whole thing out of it.”

“Okay, but I’m fixated on it. It’s like, all I can think about. What the fuck?”

You’re overcome with the strangest feeling- it shouldn’t be so odd to you now, three weeks into your guilt spiraling, but you want to text her about this so badly, to give her grief about it. And if this were a normal situation, if you hadn’t made everything awful, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you’re having a clandestine lunch with her boyfriend to discuss the awful thing you did, and therefore you can’t give her shit about her weird habit you now know about thanks to him, which is what friends do. Friends don’t let friends put the roll on the wrong way without at least dragging them for it for the rest of their natural lives, so can you still even call yourself her friend?

Probably not, huh? That, and the other thing you did. Friends don’t do that, either.

Your smile fades as you start to understand on a much more personal level what he meant. You doubt you’ll be granted the same mercy as him, of working out your issues, and until then you have to live like this, unable to even joke around without it turning bitter. You’re going to lose her, too- you’re going to lose them both, maybe, probably, and the waiting and pretending is only adding to your misery. It’s a hollow kind of wanting, for something to be over and done with, but it’s rooted in you all the same.

You finally decide you’re not going to finish your sandwich, but you wrap it back up in the wax paper liner anyway, and start putting your coat back on.

“Well. Thanks for meeting with me. I think I’d better head back to work, now.”

“you realize we didn’t talk about what happened at all, right?”

You shrug. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we don’t need to.”

“you don’t- you don’t have anything you wanna say to me.”

You close your eyes and sigh.

“I’m… sorry?”

“shit, yeah, me too.”

“It was a mistake.”

“unequivocally, yeah.”

“I think that about covers it, don’t you?”

He nods silently.

“Then… I’ll see you around.”

You almost make it to the door, leaving him slumped in his seat with his uneaten sandwich. You look outside at the cold, slushy parking lot, check the time, and nearly get in your car and drive back to work. But instead, your feet carry you back to the table, back to Sans.

“I do actually just have one question.”

He looks up at you, and you can see deep into his eye sockets, and the dark semicircles beneath them, how tired he is.

“sure. anything,” he answers.

“If you had known how I felt, would it all have gone- would we be here now, having this conversation? Or would I have gone home before and none of this would have ever happened?”

Your fool brain wants you to continue: Or would you have stayed?

But you already know the answer to that one, so you stop yourself; these questions are dangerous enough, as is.

He actually looks somewhat taken aback.

“i don’t- i dunno. and i dunno how much good speculating about it’s gonna do. what’s done is done.”

“Please. It’s the one answer I feel like I have any right to.”

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and leans back.

“yeah. i think i’d have done the same thing.”

Your chair creaks as you fall back into it, defeated.

“Why?”

“what do you mean, why? did it seem like i gave a shit who else i was hurting at the time?”

He slumps a little further down, and in a softer, more soothing tone, says, “what are you after? do i care now that i hurt your feelings? …yeah. not that it really counts for anything.”

“It counts,” you croak.

“hmm.”

He stands, finally.

“guess you’re right, though. i’d better be getting back to work.”

He shrugs on his wool coat and winds his scarf around his neck.

“you uh… you gonna be ok?”

Are you? Feels like… maybe not?

The sobbing starts, even as you will it not to- christ, no, anything but that.

“oh. uh. shit.”

People are staring, now. You hide your face behind your hands, try to even out your voice to reassure him and your new audience that no, really, you’re fine, but it just comes out all the more overwrought for your efforts. Sans is useless, grimacing, hands outstretched towards you, placating, like with a panicking animal, and it reminds you of the conversation you’d had that night, when you’d offered yourself up as a shoulder to cry on.

“you wanna get out of here?” he asks, and you nod, rolling your eyes at your own uninvited histrionics and swiping at your cheeks.

“k,” he says, and when you open your eyes again, you’re sitting on your couch, in your apartment.

“got tissues?”

You swallow.

“Uh, bedroom, but- please don’t go in there, it’s- it’s bad.”

“k.”

He returns a few seconds later with a handful of toilet paper, and you take it from him.

“hey. it’s gonna be okay. y’know why?”

You blow your nose.

“Why?”

“no matter what else happens, you’ll always know: you put the toilet paper on the holder the right way.”

You chuckle weakly into your wad of tissue.

“You’re right. I’ll always have that.”

He sinks down on the couch next to you. Not too close.

You sigh and slump forward, elbows on your knees, calmer now.

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen. The- you know, the turning on the waterworks in a sandwich joint. That was embarrassing. I’m embarrassed.”

“happens. plus, i think you’ve earned the right to cry.”

Your chin wobbles again, threatening.

“Oh? I have? Cool. ‘Cuz I don’t know what I have the right to feel, or do, right now. It all feels wrong.”

“yeah. i know,” he mumbles.

“Sometimes I start feeling sad, for me, because of what I’m about to lose because of this? But then- no, can’t do that, because- hey, maybe I should have thought of that before we-” you catch your breath.

“yeah.”

“I’m mad at myself, and I’m pretty okay with that. But then sometimes I think maybe I’m mad at you for like, seven different reasons, and half of those reasons conflict with each other, but I can’t even… stay mad at you like I think I want to.”

You aren’t looking at him, but you can feel his stare.

“like how?”

You poke and prod at your face, trying to relieve some of the tension headache that’s building around your eye sockets and temples.

“Like, as your friend, I’m annoyed that you put up with ALL of her bullshit. You’re such a doormat when it comes to her. But as her friend, I’m so fucking appalled that you’d sleep with me, her best friend, less than a month after the breakup of a like- how many years? Six?”

“…seven.”

“Seven year relationship. Fuck, sorry, not to belabor the point or anything, but- yeah.” You sniffle. “And then- here’s the kicker. Just as me, alone, not relative to anyone else- I keep wishing you’d just fucking stayed in bed after I poured my heart out to you. Like I have any right to feel that. And of all of it, all the shit, that’s the one that sticks the worst, so the rest don’t get a chance to mean anything.”

The second you turn your head to make eye contact with him, he’s there, leaning in, warm. Big old eye sockets looking at you just like you’d wanted for so long.

“i should’ve. i know.”

Your breath leaves you, almost-but-not-quite on a sob, as he kisses you, and everything is right and better, if only for a split second.

“Wait.”

“yeah- yes. ok.”

“What about-” you can’t bring yourself to speak to him more than a few inches removed from the kiss, as if tethered there by a spell, “-what about everything you just said, what- this isn’t fixing things.”

“no.”

“And I can’t- you can’t do this to me again.”

“i won’t. it won’t be like last time.”

“You can’t promise that,” you say as matter-of-factly as you can manage, given the circumstances.

“keep thinkin’ about how i can’t remember the last time i felt the way i did when you were sayin’ all that stuff about me.”

Your cheeks flush even harder, as if the rest of you hadn’t yet gotten the memo.

“That’s called an orgasm.”

The ridge above his nasal cavity scrunches up pleasantly when he laughs.

“We shouldn’t. If it was wrong before, it’s so much worse now.”

“i know.”

You cast your eyes aside to your front door, then down to where your hands are almost touching as you lean towards each other on the couch.

“You’re so full of shit, you know that?” you ask. “Fuck you for making me fall for it twice.”

Your eyelids flutter shut as you pull him in by the back of his neck.

THEN YOU FUCK AGAIN!!! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!!! HOW COULD YOU!!!

hehe

He keeps his promise, more or less. It’s not her he has to run off to, at the end. You both have half a day of work ahead of you. You’re both late, and it’s as good an excuse as any for you to pretend he won’t still be going home to her, later.

You still have questions. You can’t focus at work.

He never promised much of anything, you now realize. It felt like he was offering much more, but- so what? Is he actually done with her? After everything? What does this look like tomorrow? A week from now?

What, you seriously think he’s going to leave her for you? Only if she kicks him out, you think, bitterly. Which makes you what, exactly? A consolation prize for his neglected ego?

You call him right as you’re getting off work, but hang up before he can answer. You want the truth??? You can’t handle the truth!!!

Things get better as they get worse. He starts coming over to see you, at least once a day. He stays an hour or two when he can. He talks with you in bed.

Yours, now, you think, sometimes.

You don’t ask him when he’s going to tell her. He’s choosing you, so he has to, right?

He will. Soon.

*Now I’m looking back at the beginning of all this and I’m like-

Some thoughts??? Bitch! You just wrote most of the damn thing! And after you said you weren’t gonna!

…So CLEARLY I had like, a little more I evidently wanted to say about this fucking thing. So there you go???

GOD that was a lot of dashes in there though, huh? I didn’t even try to keep the number down.

Oops hehhe

But, uh, yeah! I don’t know how this ends! Or even, at the risk of sounding a bit pretentious, if it ends! Maybe everyone learns from their mistakes and suffers the consequences! Or maybe nobody does! Or maybe it’s a weird combination of learning and not learning and suffering and not suffering because it’s supposed to be like, way more complicated than that.

**Or maybe reader and Sans’s gf wind up auditioning for the same local network tv wrestling show and they have lots of sexual wrestling tension together and also reader has like a will-they-won’t-they thing with an 80s disaster caricature of Marc Maron and they both bond with a group of wonderful interesting women and get to create something bigger than themselves!

God, I love GLOW. Maybe just go watch GLOW instead of this, it’s like, basically the same thing only with more eighties vibes and less skeletons and more women’s wrestling and less magical penises.

So really, not the same thing at all except for the one plot point of sleepin’ with your best friend’s dude that they kind of share, but very very good, you know?

Anyway! I love getting asks (I apparently love them so much that I can’t help myself and end up writing almost an entire chapter just to answer them), and fleshing out all the vagueness a little more without the self-imposed pressure of having to finish it into something publishable was really fun. So thanks for this ask!

#ask #the-one-eyed-king-kaneki-ken #habby balentimes day #sorry mobile users i know this was long as shit #sorry everyone actually #sans/reader #for auld lang syne my dear

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years

Text

3 am’s a crazy time for it but it occurs to me i may as well give a heads up that i am like, for real at the present assuming that i’m gonna like, sometime in the very near future here be going offline again, in that sort of my ~plan~ (my one-step plan) is seeing if i can get myself on a bus (hopefully) and see if that can get me to the west coast. and from there i’ll just be like, well here i am in a place i’ve never been before, being unhoused for the second time but this time not living in my car, which is a bit different than living right out in the open, which i’ve never done. this, for example, is why i was looking up how to do makeshift stp devices. way easier to be able to pee wherever you are than have to find a place you can drop your whole pants, or an actual bathroom. apparently cutting the end off one of those plastic liquid medicine measuring things with the sorta spoon at its mouth works. anyways

i suppose it hasn’t necessarily showed but for a few weeks now i’ve def been feeling The Impending Pressure and it was getting down to the wire there not knowing if the Last Day Online would spring itself on me suddenly. but i can at least say i think i’ll have a days warning now and be able to say something with at least a matter of hours forewarning and not like, a matter of minutes. its been sorta wild though like, sorta assuming its like a Two Days Remain situation and in the midst of the unpredictability of depression, trying to just enjoy things as they’re happening, the simple stuff like chatting with people and being able to put my bullshit thoughts online...cranking out a fic chapter because it’s at least a better place to leave it hanging than it wouldve been otherwise.....just consuming this content that’s enjoyable and chill af.......i tell ya what—both in terms of being Fun and Anxiety-Reducing and Good Distractions and also, a great opportunity just to be talking to people on the daily which has been and continues to be absolutely fantastic—having been On that deh/etc will roland train for the past couple months has been a total gift. it was some great luck stumbling into that, seriously

anyways it’s weird! it’s weird thinking just like, i’ll suddenly do this thing and be on the other coast and just step out and be somewhere i don’t know and with no particular destination and maybe the lgbt center i looked up will at least tell me whats the best area to be in, sometimes they’re in the know abt that re: where’s a better spot to be homeless in than others. and from there, y’know, all i’ve been doing for years and all i can continue to do is absolutely wing it. and it’s funny that this all seems slightly less intimidating to me than it wouldve like, a year or two ago (even tho two yrs ago i was technically homeless lol but living in my car so like i said its different from living Right on the street) but honestly, obviously, it’s still very intimidating because how could it not be. i’m maybe not AS anxious but i’m still anxious and even though i know i could do it, i’d be stressed tf out and anxious as hell and shit while i was doing it. i mean, a crosscountry bus ride alone—i’ve never done that!! what if i mess up switching over to a different connecting ride between stations. bus and train bathrooms unnerve me, god forbid i have to get past someone to get to the aisle to GO to the bathroom. and, yknow, just a really long bus ride—how do you manage to sleep, how do i manage not to fall asleep at the wrong time cuz i doubt there’s an attendant telling you to get off at the right stop. though god knows it’s somewhat arbitrary where i’m deciding to go, i have no especial connection in one particular place over another, i think i have an uncle and cousin in CA but i don’t have the first idea where and i don’t know them at all

ugh. like there’s no actual way to feel good about it but if i’m gonna go somewhere it might as well be in a completely different place and i could try the west coast and i’m not one for making careful plans or thinking that making careful plans about your life works unless you’ve already got a lot of control about your situation, which i don’t. and it’s always been p inevitable that i wind up “properly” homeless, and it happens, and i don’t pretend it doesn’t scare me, but what are you gonna do? c’est ca que c’est / la vie. this way there’s a chance that A Big Change might lead the way for something better, and like hey if i die or some shit i die, which has always been a possibility anyways for the past like 6-7 years especially, what with how shitty i’ve felt lol. but i have no attachment where i’m at now and just. it’s hard to explain i guess if you’re not in the kind of place where i’m at but there’s not a lot of choices in the first place so, if i can choose the location, if it can be somewhere new where i MIGHT like to be for once, that’s better than not. and somehow so far i’ve managed to go with the flow surrounding big changes and sometimes wild situations, even if i’ve felt like crap and been super worried sometimes too. i don’t know for how many years now i’ve been Not assuming i’d be alive by the next year, but here i am having gotten this far, at least. it’s fairly impressive even if i don’t have any amazing achievements. believe it or not i’m pretty satisfied with my Achievements as just like, dumbass blog posts and fic/art and occasionally contributing something someone enjoys and getting to talk to people sometimes. it’s how i’ve been able to enjoy myself in the midst of some really awful times for the past like 6 yrs and i’ve appreciated it every day i’ve gotten to surf the net

like i guess it’s like haha, nerd, that half of what i’m worried about is being offline. but it’s a big deal being able to connect w the world beyond your immediate reach and distract yourself and say things and maybe even Enjoy yourself and also actually get to talk to people. but hey sometimes even people who live on the street manage to snag wifi connections somehow. i’d have to ask them how, lol. but, yknow, like i said, for a couple weeks especially it’s been like , Not Assuming I’ll NOT Lose Internet Connection and thus really trying to bear down on appreciating it. not like being offline for 5 months or so didn’t also make me appreciate it extra already. i was gonna say i survived it but i did get wildly depressed throughout like, august? september? probably both lol. anyways. what i’m trying to say i guess is that i’m not actually assuming i’ll be okay, but that only means so much because like, not to sound dramatic but i’ve pretty much never been okay on account of ive been just a half step away from living on the streets ever since leaving my parents house where i’d previously lived my whole life, which was an abusive situation. and also the depression and the years of really wanting to die which, at least 2018 didn’t have TOO much of that, in terms of feeling like it might be impending. now i can’t really be bothered, i’m just floating along and if i die i die, right. what i’m trying to say is, there’s not really any Good Proper option to choose where i’m definitely okay, so it’s basically about choosing between bad options, and with this choice i might at least like the location a little better, change of scenery, not as cold as here, i dunno. there’s not a way to just choose my way into being okay. it’s all a roll of the dice anyhow

also it’s weird but one thing about being on my own is it takes the pressure off me in certain ways and it’s a bit easier for me to Do things. if there’s anyone else to answer to in any way, i tend to just not ever decide anything and definitely don’t pursue anything. i’m one of those ppl who either has to live alone or with ppl they’re really really really comfortable with, and since i don’t have the latter around and nobody especially me can afford the former, it’s like, well, how is not everybody homeless anyway, right? and people do it. because yknow, you have to do it, it’s suddenly just your situation and somehow people get through every day. idk. learn as you go. what can ya do. it’s choosing between various bad options, i could also just wander into the mountains and die, but i’d rather not, and offing myself is Way a hassle, and also would be difficult, same as dying of exposure/dehydration in this middle of nowhere patch of mtns. i might as well try my luck at being in a place where you COULD maybe survive or something, and where i could at least feel like, if i do manage to have any good things happen, i would even possibly want to be in that area and be more comfortable living there. i have no roots anywhere and only have a No Zone (near my parents house) and so its sorta like, pick a random place to be!! lol. ahhhh

what can i say. it also sucks having to think “boy, in addition to not dying, hope i don’t get physically/sexually assaulted—also, how do people get water??” but......such is the way that it is. i don’t know. i don’t think anybody looks at impending homelessness and goes “i’m okay about this and not at all afraid.” and it’s strange to talk about how this is sort of ~by choice~ but it’s not exactly, in that i didn’t choose to only have abusive family and how even though i was working while living in my car it would never have been enough for rent probably even if i had someone to split it with and i also didn’t choose to not be rich in the first place and *the economy...... .png*

sigh. i dunno, it’s hard because i can’t talk about it a right way or long enough and get to a point i don’t feel intimidated or upset that once i Go Offline i’ll for real just be on my own unless and until i manage to get online for a moment again, in which case i’ll still be on my own, but i’ll feel a bit less alone, ha ha

anyways. speaking of trying to appreciate the simple pleasures of talking about whatever weird shit i wanna talk about and pushing myself to draw/write as it feels like it gets even more down to the wire—time to do that! 4 am and time to draw this weird meme & hopefully crank out the rest of this oneshot & maybe even draw again, and maybe again—it’s cool cuz i slept weird the other night and then got again weirdly tired in the afternoon and took a long depression nap w sorta fun, sorta bizarre dreams. augh. so at least i figure i’m just cruisin now, Not Sleeping-wise

i might have to ask a favor eventually in that there’s something really super simple i ought to look up, but i’d have a ton of trouble making myself do so because of anxiety, yknow how it is. but i’ll ask that if and when i ask it

#ugh.....#i feel like it was right before or after xmas when i watched that vid about Will R talking about his film role playing a homeless guy #and he got like seven words into it and like as soon as i processed it i burst into tears lol....RIP #it’s 4 am what’s upppp...more like WHO’S up

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ikesenlemonadestandstories · 6 years

Text

Born In A Storm

Hey there Fam Bam, so this would be Part 2 to the ‘Retrograde Spell’ series find the Prologue Here. For links to all my other Ikesen stories check out my Master List.

As luck would have it I was feeling a bit creative and there wasn’t anything to do at work (like literally nothing..I got paid to write this today) so I just got to sit and pluck along at this. I figured out the main squeeze, so I hope you all enjoy :) It’s mostly under the cut...cuz I definitely got carried away.

[YN]

“That wasn’t so bad” you said blinking at your sister.

“Not so bad…? You’re just saying that because there was only one grunt to fight…” Kanna looked at you arching an eyebrow.

“And? He was a really big dude!!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose

“If one ‘really big dude’ is that much of a problem maybe we should reconsider who my partner is. Besides you almost sent him straight through a wall...I know you’re strong but could we watch how much damage we cause. I really don’t like dealing with your messes” she sighed

You felt your feathers ruffle immediately, but you knew better than to get in a verbal argument with your sister. You would never win. So you puffed up your cheeks and crossed your arms. “Whatever. At least they were still able to release that new phone...”

You were walking towards the rendezvous point, Honnoji, when your brother Yuuto came over the communication system. “Do you guys seriously have to bicker…when they told me I’d help keep the peace I didn’t realize it was going to be between you two.”

You shared a laugh and your sister turned off her armor stowing it in her necklace as she broke through the tree cover. You were about to do the same when you saw a young man standing in front of the monument you were about to use, scribbling frantically in a notebook. “Hang on a second Yuuto...there’s somebody there.”

Kanna stood next to him hoping that by standing there he may get bored of the crowd and walk somewhere else. Instead he paused making conversation “Good afternoon. Are you history enthusiasts?”

Letting her take the lead you remained silent in the background. “You could say that.”

“Ah well then you must check out the the far side of the temple grounds. I would hurry over before they close.”

Speaking into your piece “Does it feel like he’s trying to shoo you away?”

She simply nodded. The only acknowledgment you received for your question.

*Ching~*

The warning signal on you choker discreetly went off glowing a dull purple.

“Uh guys, we have a problem.” Yuuto was back on the line.

Kanna froze.

“Someone is trying to kill off Uesugi Kenshin, Takeda Shingen, and Oda Nobunaga in the 27th dimension, you know, the one where they’re not supposed to die...”

Your brother hadn’t even sent coordinates when the sky opened above the monument and in a flash of gray twisting smoke you sister was disappearing. You ran for the portal without thinking. The last thing you heard was your brother screaming at you.

“No! (YN)! I didn’t open that gate!”

…

[Yukimura]

Sasuke and Kanna had to be the weirdest people I had ever met. Four years ago they basically fell from the sky on the outskirts of our camp. Shingen was obviously taken with Kanna’s looks but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, after she almost skewered Kenshin, he was way too excited to bring her on board.

The woman was insane, she was great with a sword, she had been training with Kenshin to keep him occupied, and she was the only person I knew who could out mouth Shingen in every word game he tried to play. She was the main topic of discussion between Sasuke and I, and while a large majority of her was a mystery, I’m certain neither Kenshin or Shingen would be alive right now without whatever odd voodoo she and Sasuke had worked.

“Why are we here again?” I asked

“Well Yuki, when our top strangest requests we make leave for Honnoji we do as she says. Or would you rather we left you at home?” Shingen sneered

“No...I’m safer with her than you idiots anyway…” that made her laugh. She had looked so serious all day. Those ruby red eyes laser focused on...something.

I remember when they arrived Sasuke had mentioned something about multiple universes and how he came from one, she another, and both were totally different from the one we were in now. That she was trying to preserve this one but her sister had gone missing, and every bit of that sounded insane until moments like this, moments when you see her poised to strike, blade half sheathed in armor that definitely wasn’t there before. Wait. What the hell. Where did that even come from? Before I could voice my questions the sky broke open a ways off, conveniently, in the direction we were headed. She turned.

“Sasuke, stay here. Nobody move. I’ll be back soon...something's...come up...Or...down rather”

The sound of a bell could be heard, something like a wind chime on a summer afternoon. She looked panicked then in no time at all she was gone. I had a bad feeling about this. Looking at Sasuke all he could manage was

“She lied...her armor is totally like that…”

“Sasuke...that’s the vaguest thing you’ve ever said...and that’s saying something.”

…

[YN]

It was gray, then black, in no time at all there was a crash and you were falling. Holy shit you’re falling!! You landed hard in the dirt. A clear indent where you had landed, thank god for your armor and its ability to absorb and displace kinetic energy...otherwise you’d be toast a million times over. Standing you pressed you hand to the communication system around your neck.

“OK so I’m through, I think I’m in Japan, and it looks like where I just came from...but less...modern.”

You brother came screaming into the system “(YN)! Is that you?”

“Um yea..? Who else would it be?” Voicing your confusion.

“What do you mean who else...what happened...you’ve been MIA for four years.”

“What!?” You practically roared

“You followed me into the QA’s wormhole. It was a trap, they knew we’d be there and they planned to separate us and finish us off individually. I was spit out to the correct coordinates, we couldn’t pick up your tracker after that and all communication ceased.” A voice you recognized as Kanna’s was on the line now.

“Shit...four years? Really? It’s like I blinked and here I am.”

You heard her voice echo behind you as it played in your ear. Turning you found yourself face to face your mirror image...a twin.

“I can see that…you haven’t aged a day.” She looked at me with hard yet familiar red eyes. “Show me your mark. Yuuto do a scan.”

“Not a problem,” deactivating your armor to expose the beautiful tattoo covering the expanse of your back. “But I want to see yours too, especially since you look nothing like I remember.”

“Maybe.” You received a hard stare and a long silence then your brother reported back.

“If she has the marking it’s (YN)” your brother had just confirmed your existence. Sheathing her sword she ran to you.

“(YN)” she whispered your name stopping just shy of your now drawn blade.

“Markings...now” she blinked at your response “if I’ve really been in there for four years that means my sister I have no real idea what my sister looks like right now... and while it's clear you're acting like her how can i be sure this isn't another trap? Prove you’re her.”

She was your spitting image the only visible difference now was her bright cardinal colored eyes, and a tattoo mirroring your own markings; It was definitely Kanna “So are we technically twins now?” you asked to anyone listening.

Yuuto laughed and Kanna just smiled at you “Technically no...but also yes? The longer this goes on the more I find I don’t like to think about how the universe works…”

You had both re-equipped and were preparing your next move when you heard the bang.

“QA’s on the move Honnoji temple is on fire!” Yuuto gave directions.

…

[Mitsunari]

There was a crack of thunder and before I knew it the acrid smell of smoke filled the air. Hideyoshi looked disturbed and as if out of nowhere we were surrounded by ghastly looking men. Every one of them pale and disfigured, swords drawn they came at us. Masamune went for the first kill of the night, sword slicing straight through the man's midsection, which shouldn’t have been possible thanks to his massive build but here we were. Actually. What is going on. Realizing the attacker Masamune should have just halved was still on his feet I observed that not a single one of them had been injured by our blades.

“Great...now how do we get to Nobunaga?” Hideyoshi grumbled.

“Any ideas in that brain of your Mitsunari?” Masamune screamed over the chaos

We had been fighting non-stop for a good while and I finally found an opening, giving the signal to Hideyoshi I charged off in the direction of the burning temple. Eventually he would follow leaving Masamune and his men to clean up the mess here, but for now I was to get to Nobunaga as fast as possible.

Arriving at the temple two silhouettes could be seen escaping the burning building hand in hand. The larger of the two was clearly Nobunaga-sama but who was that leading him. I watched for a moment before urging my horse forward, as I got closer it looked as if they were arguing.

“A wonderful name.” Nobunaga grinned down at what i could suss out was a female.

Hearing my approach she turned in my direction, she was breathtaking. Though she was wearing a scorched pink kimono, her skin shined like the moon while her eyes danced amber the color of the embers flying off the fire behind us.

My concentration was broken by Nobunaga’s questioning my being there. I informed him that Hideyoshi had gotten wind of this assasination attempt and we had left Azuchi to investigate. Unfortunately these findings weren’t unfounded and he would be following soon behind me.

“I am just happy you are unharmed. Might I inquire who this is?” I pointed to the young woman who seemed to jolt when attention was brought back to her. She visibly ruffled when he commanded her to present herself, she fired back a spirited response and sensing a fight I stepped in to calm the situation.

Her clothing had been destroyed saving our lord so I offered to take her back to our camp to get her something fresh to wear. It’s the least we could do to reward her bravery since she was so bent on not getting one.

She cleaned up well. Her slick black hair now loose around her waist, shined in the moonlight adding to her luminescent features. While we were trying to figure out where she came from Lord Mitsuhide strode into the camp. Odd I wasn’t aware he was supposed to be in the area. He fell into a steady conversation with Nobunaga but I stayed watching Karasu-san, since arriving in the camp her eyes had been working constantly looking for a way out. It was clear she was uncomfortable.

As if he could sense Mitsuhide’s presence Hideyoshi strode into the tent. Immediately firing question after question in every direction. He was bristling at Mitsuhide’s vague responses, and while I couldn’t deny they were suspicious the young lady spoke up against Hideyoshi’s accusation that it had been Mitsuhide who had attempted to take our lord's life.

“It wasn’t him. I caught a glimpse of the man in the room and his robes were completely different. Besides he smells like soba...if it had been him you’d still smell the fire on him.”

“Quiet you, we’ll settle things later.” Hideyoshi spit out

“Excuse me.” In a rush she stood eyes burning like they had been earlier.

“Why should we trust some unknown woman who conveniently places herself in a position right next to our lord...and one with a sword no less?” Hideyoshi’s tone was dripping with venom, and for once it was being used on someone other than Mitsuhide.

As soon as his thoughts were out in the open a new fire roared in her gaze. I was sensing a conflict but before it could escalate Nobunaga sent us all outside the tent. There was an odd silence before Mitsuhide spoke up.

“I’m surprised you left our lord in there with an armed woman...she is threatening.”

His voice dripping with a familiar sarcasm meant to egg on Hideyoshi’s temper, before anyone could say anything more her voice rang out from inside the tent.

“Absolutely not! What is wrong with you? Like I said before...I have to go!”

Before anyone could stop her she was bolting out of the camp toward the forest, disappearing into the night. Nobunaga came out of the tent laughing, a look of glee in his expression.

“Quite the spirit. Mitsuhide, take a horse and go find her. Bring her back with you to Azuchi I would like to speak with her again.”

“Bring who back?” Masamune rode up looking frustrated.

“Ah perfect timing Masamune, go with Mitsuhide and find the woman who saved me. You should be able to get details about her from him.” He gestured to Mitsuhide. “I doubt she got very far on foot.”

…

[YN]

Heaven help you, what was wrong with that man! If you had known saving him would have resulted in that mess you would have ditched him at the entrance immediately….gods. Kanna was currently embroiled in a battle near the cliff a bit further south of the temple, taking care of a few loose stings around honnoji, and here I was listening to grown men bicker...I really needed to get out of here, not just for her but for them. One more word of obvious disrespect and I may take an arm or two. Is that really how you treat a commanding officer. The only one with any shred of respect was the man name Mitsunari.

You should have known he was up to something when Nobunaga had shooed everyone from the tent before coiling an arm around your waist. Oh hell no.

“I would like to reward you. How would you like to rule the world at my side.” without a second thought I pushed away from his grip, grabbing my sword as I responded making for the exit.

“Absolutely not! What is wrong with you? Like I said before...I have to go!” I made haste to Kanna.

When I arrived she had the last of the abominations in a stalemate. She had her two swords locked against the one striking down at her. Crouching to get the best push you could, you burst through the trees in her direction, drawing your blade as you ran.

“SWITCH!” you called out.

She knew what to do. Ducking down she dropped back letting the monster’s weapons come down around her, leaving me an opening so I could drive my blade through its chest. It vanished in a swirl of black and purple smoke leaving no trace of its existence.

“What the hell took you so long? All you had to do was get Nobunaga out of that temple...are you really that out of shape?”

“Um...I’m offended...I’ve only been out of it for like twenty minutes...and no it’s clear you needed me for that last kill. If you must know, he is surrounded by the most ridiculously doting group of men I’ve ever encountered. Like they give Dad’s retainers a run for their money.”

Her eye twitched and a choked laugh escaped remembering your father's vassals...just before you brother came on the com again. “I’m telling him you said that.”

As you formulated your response you sister froze, eyes locking with something in the trees beyond.

“Sasuke come out.” she sighed when the man we had seen standing in front of the temple the day all hell broke loose removed his cover. “Didn’t I tell you to stay with the others?”

“You did. But the others were worried, especially after we were ambushed. They sent me to find you.” he looked me over “Am I to assume you found your sister?”

What was going on here. Why was he here...and why wasn’t he freaking out?

“(YN),” Yuuto broke in. “I’ll explain it all to you when you ride back to Azuchi, for now company is coming and we need you to go with them.”

“Why just me?”

Kanna turned to you. “We’re sort of with the Uesugi-Takeda forces already. It wouldn’t be a good idea to go with you. I’ll keep in touch.”

Suiting up she grabbed Sasuke, as they were making their way to the nearby treetops you heard him ask. “I didn’t think the two of you were twins.”

To which she replied, “We weren’t, but it appears space time had different ideas.” and they disappeared as the sound of rapid hoof-beats approached.

…

[Mitsunari]

Mitsuhide had sent word that they found Karasu-san and they were on their way back with her. Hideyoshi, Ieyasu, and I were waiting to greet them at the castle gates and to nobody’s surprise they barreled in on Masamune’s horse, though she looked completely un-phased. Odd, most people don’t enjoy riding with him...although the look on her face isn’t exactly telling of excitement. Her eyes were still the captivating amber I remembered from the other night but the energy in them seemed to hum much lower.

“Ieyasu check the lass out for me would ya? Her sword was drawn when we found her in the forest and she’s got a few scratches here and there.” Masamune leapt from his horse offering her a hand that she promptly refused. Dismounting swiftly on her own.

“Ieyasu can look at her later, Nobunaga requests her presence in the main hall.” Hideyoshi wasted no time giving out orders.

“I just came to see what type of woman was capable of such grand feats...not to give medical attention.” Ieyasu replied sharply, through anyone that knows him, would understand he doesn’t say what he means.

She bristled, eyes darkening to a burnt orange, pupils dilating as if she was sizing him up. “I never asked for help anyway...what are you so sour for?” focusing her attention on me “You’re Ishida-san right? What does he want me for.” she completely ignored Hideyoshi and I felt electricity spark in the air between the two. Giving me orders to take her to the main hall I heard Mitsuhide and Masamune choke behind us. I hope they are alright, it’s a good thing Ieyasu is with them.

We were gathered in our mini war counsel, just the six who knew Karasu-san was in the castle and herself. She looked less than pleased and there was no amount of planning I could have done to prevent the uproar that occurred.

“You will stay here as my lucky-charm.” Nobunaga stated, with unwavering eyes she responded.

“With all due respect, no. I kindly refuse.”

“How dare you go against Lord Nobunaga.”

“Sit down Hideyoshi,” he commanded of him. “You will remain here as a princess of the Oda, feel free to fill your time with whatever girly things your heart desires.”

Her hand twitched, not a single eye missed the threat in her movements.

“I said no. How dare you think you can reduce the head military commander of the Karasu Clan to the title of a mere princess. Sit around and do ‘girly things.’ What absolute rubbish.” She was standing in front a Hideyoshi who had placed himself between him and our lord, hand now on the hilt of his sword. I was stuck on her words, she definitely carried herself like a commanding officer.

“I think we’ve taken this a little too far,” Masamune had jumped up behind Hideyoshi and placed a firm hand on his arm “Lass calm down a little. We have no idea who you are...besides you’d be so much easier on the eyes if your expression was a little softer like it had been earlier.”

A thunderstorm was raging behind her eyes, they were dark, clouded and full of malice but all too magnificent for me to feel anything but intrigued. I should have been trying to plan how to de-escalate this situation but I couldn’t tear my eyes from here.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not the slightest bit interested in being easy on the eyes. I want you to flinch, and think twice before you reach out with a hand to bruise or use your calloused words to maim. I hope to be a constant reminder to you,” she paused sweeping her gaze locking with everyone in the main hall “that not everything and everyone is yours for the taking.” before storming out.

I jumped to my feet “I’ll follow her and make sure she gets to her room safely.” to which Nobunaga nodded, a bemused smile gracing his face.

Tagging @little-mini-me-world. Here it is!!

#ikesen #ikésen #ikemen sengoku #ikémen sengoku #cybird #ikesen mitsunari #fan fic #my story #short story #part 2 #time traveling au

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