#reminds me of the time i overheard some kids going 'its not gay if you have socks on' and the other kid goes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notyourdayrdream · 3 years

Text

Tan Hands and Tan Lines

Day Three, Side A: Ubiquitous

(read it here on AO3)

Nobody wants to spend their summer vacation working. But spending it with your two best friends wasn’t too bad. So when Mercedes told Rachel and Kurt that there were two openings at the retro fifties diner in downtown Lima, they jumped on the opportunity.

Diner in the Sky started out as a relatively slow job. It had just opened a few months ago and the word hadn’t gotten out to much of the city that it even existed. In those early days, Kurt and his friends spent the afternoons and nights singing through the empty store, twirling on black and white checkered floors. Finn and some of the other New Directions would stop by before the sunset and order milkshakes with fries. He and Rachel would not-so-mysteriously disappear for five or so minutes, and Kurt noticed the way Mercedes and Sam giggled around each other. He eventually cornered her during a graveyard shift, and she admitted that they had been dating in secret since prom. It took two days for Mercedes to win Kurt back, after buying him the new Marc Jacobs piece he had been dreaming about.

It was a cute job with even cuter outfits. Until July fourth came around.

The mayor of Lima stopped by that night and made a big show of it all, forever putting the little diner on the map. The appearance knocked out every ubiquitous fast food joint in town. It’s been packed every night since.

“I need a number five without onions!” Kurt hears Rachel scream into the kitchen, followed by the clanging of a few plates. She storms out a minute later, hair sticking to the sweat on her face.

“I hate this job,” she grumbles to him as she makes her way to another table of hungry customers.

Kurt leans his body weight against the counter. The metal is cool against his skin, a nice distraction from the oppressive summer heat. The bar isn’t nearly as packed tonight as the rest of the restaurant, mostly just little kids ordering heart attack inducing malts and ice cream cones. He’s adjusting the stupid rectangle shaped hat on his hat when he hears the door jingle at nine o’clock on the dot.

Blaine Anderson strolls into the diner with his little private smile, pulling his usual denim jacket off as he goes. He’s humming again, a pop song Kurt notices. Probably Katy Perry. He overheard Blaine tell Rachel she was his most listened to artist last week. Not that he was listening to hear if his name came up in conversation or anything like that. That would be crazy.

They meet eyes for a brief second, hazel to blue. Blaine grins before sliding onto one of the red leather barstools. “Hell again?” His cheeks are flushed pink, but Kurt blames it on the heat.

“Yeah,” Kurt replies, sounding breathier than usual. Blaine has a way of doing that to him. With his funny quirks and ability to make restaurant issued bowties sexy, the Dalton Academy junior has snuck his way into Kurt’s heart from the second he started working with him.

There’s a particularly loud crash in the corner of the building, followed by a baby screaming. Blaine takes a moment to sober himself, eyelashes fanning out on the apple of his cheeks. “I better get to work. I mean, I should get to work.” He’s flailing, adorably so. “I mean, I should check that out.” Blaine stumbles. The back of his neck is red as he walks away.

“Remind me again why you won’t ask him out?” Mercedes says with a poke to Kurt’s shoulder. Her hair is still intact, textured curls bouncing at her shoulders. The only way you’d know she had been working was the ketchup colored stains on her baby blue dress and apron. “He’s obviously into you.”

Kurt’s thought about it so many times, and the answer is that he doesn’t know. Competing schools wasn’t an excuse, it was summer. Besides, the Warblers had been so gracious in their loss at Regionals that they invited the New Directions over for coffee at the Lima Bean.

Truth is, he was scared. He’s never had a boyfriend, let alone asked a boy out or even told one they were handsome. This is still Ohio, and being out and proud has its consequences. He knows Blaine is gay at least, so his crushing isn’t creepy.

It sort of terrifies him to care about someone so deeply. When Blaine came in with red rimmed eyes after his fifteen minute break one night in the middle of June, Kurt sat with him as he ranted about how awful his dad was. He’s the only friend Kurt has that likes to watch old black and white movies for fun. Blaine makes him laugh so hard he cries, and everytime he brushes past Kurt during the busy nights, the spot tingles for until he gets home.

Kurt sighs. “I don’t know.” He rests his head against the edge of the soda machine. “Crushes are so damned difficult.” Mercedes hums in sympathy.

“It’ll work out, boo. Even if Rachel and I have to force the two of you to close together like last time.” He can feel her laugh beside him, and soon he’s laughing too. That was a good night.

“Kurt! ‘Cedes!” Rachel all but screams, turning a few heads. After knowing the girl for two years, he’s convinced she only has two settings: Loud and Louder.

Her face is bright pink and there’s a deep crease between her brows. She’s got her Business Face on. “What’re you two doing? This large party just came in, and you guys are just sitting here! A little help would be appreciated!” She huffs, pumps tapping against the floor as she walks to the back at a dizzying speed.

Kurt and Mercedes share an eye roll before going opposite ways. The party Rachel was talking about is huge, five adults and three kids under ten years old. After finding a table large enough so they’d all be comfortable, he pulls out a notepad and asks what drinks he can get them started with.

An older woman starts speaking in rapid fire Italian, gesturing to the rest of the group, who nod in return. Kurt instantly regrets taking up French instead of literally any other language.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, hoping they could understand. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

A younger man with a beard cocks his head and speaks in an incredibly thick accent. How a family of Italians decided to spend a summer in boring Ohio confuses him. “Could we get another waiter?” He stutters through the sentence, and Kurt feels bad to inconvenience them.

There’s a familiar tingle on his left shoulder. “I can help them,” Blaine whispers, side-stepping him to get closer to the table. He says something to the family, who grin back at him. He has that effect on people.

“You speak Italian?” Kurt hisses. This guy is just full of surprises.

Blaine puts his head down and smiles. He shrugs like everyone in America is fluent in the romantic language. “I spent a few summers in southern Italy with my grandmother when I was younger.” Because of course he did.

“Oh,” Kurt offers lamely. “Okay, well tell them I’m really sorry for any inconvenience.”

Blaine smirks at him and turns to the table. He says something to them, laughing afterwards. Kurt watches behind him, amazed at the way Blaine can make anyone feel so important. Not to mention Italian is such a hot language to hear coming out of his mouth.

A kid who can’t be above twelve pipes up, pointing back to Kurt. The rest of the family looks back at him too.

Kurt pulls at the edge of his crisp button down. They’re looking back and forth between him and Blaine, unnerving him beyond belief. He feels called out and exposed even though he has no idea what’s being said about him. So he just returns a wavering smile and turns to leave and prepares to never show his face again when he hears it.

Amore.

That stops him in his tracks. Love? Kurt’s no language expert, but the word is pretty universal in every one of them. He turns around to ask Blaine for a translation, but to his surprise he’s gone uncharacteristically silent.

Blaine eventually stammers through a reply, hands stuck stiffly at his sides. Kurt hears him murmur, “I’ll be back with your drinks,” before walking into the kitchen as fast as he can. He won’t make eye contact with Kurt the rest of the night.

Diner in the Sky closes at eleven every night, and it takes another thirty minutes on a good day to scrub stains from the tabletops and lock everything up. It’s Kurt’s night to close up. Usually either Rachel or Mercedes is on schedule to help him, but since his luck is just absolute shit, he has to clean up the place with Blaine.

Closing up is usually an intimate job. Just two people, the nostalgia of an old diner, and a jukebox. Depending on who you’re with, it’s either heaven or hell. Kurt’s not sure which one he’ll get tonight. The other two times he’s had to suffer through it with Blaine, it’s been fun. They dirtied dishes making vanilla shakes and doo-wopping along to the jukebox tunes.

Tonight feels like purgatory. Blaine avoids him at any cost. If Kurt goes to mop the kitchen floors, he goes to the front room, and vice versa. He won’t speak to him, or even acknowledge him when he accidentally sweeps Kurt’s feet. It’s fine at first, Kurt can handle the awkwardness. But eventually, it simmers to anger.

“Can I talk to you?” He calls after Blaine. He stops like a kid caught in the cookie jar, hand freezing on the light switch. He turns slowly, eyes as big as saucers.

“Yeah?”

Kurt glares at him for a moment before speaking. “Look, I don’t know what that family said to you, but it gives you no right to be so absolutely rude—”

“They said I looked like I loved you.” It comes out as if it pains him to say.

That sentence makes any anger Kurt has, flow out of him and into a pond on the floor. Love?

He scraps up any dignity he has left and smiles to himself. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?” Blaine snaps, coming to sit on the stool next to him. His leg trembles on the floor. Kurt can recognize now the little tells he didn’t know he ever noticed; how Blaine presses his thumb and ring finger together when he’s especially nervous, the way his eyes seem to light up when he looks at him.

“Love me?” Kurt continues, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He wants to hear him say it.

Blaine doesn’t answer, instead opting to bury his head into his hands. Kurt hears him mumble to himself. Something about not the right time and tan messed everything up. His stomach flip flops.

“So,” Kurt drags, tapping the edge of the metal counter. “Love, huh?”

“Shut up,” Blaine mutters. They sit in comfortable silence for a little, until the hum of Ella Fitzgerald fizzles off the record. Then, Kurt feels a warm, almost clammy hand on top of his. It’s enough of an answer for him.

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: ubiquitous #glee #writing #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #tan lines and tan hands

32 notes · View notes

crawgluvr4 · 4 years

Text

(ao3)

They suspend the injections after three weeks.

Jack insists that it’s just because they want to see what happens, and Reyes calls him an idiot, with what he hopes is a hint of affection.

“You mean they suddenly care?” Jack pushes. “They didn’t stop them after the first guys got sick. Why now?”

Reyes just looks at him over whatever magazine he’s reading, like a disapproving grandfather. “Man, I thought I was supposed to be the paranoid one.”

Jack pouts, but it makes Reyes grin, so he takes it on the chin.

Jack likes Reyes, as a roommate and a person, and much to the surprise of the other soldiers. Everyone else thinks Reyes is grumpy and cold, and Jack would concede that it took a solid two weeks of work to get him to open up a bit. But it had been worth it, because the guy had a wicked sense of humour despite the miserable atmosphere the soldier enhancement program carried like a plague. When the injections started a month in, Jack was glad to have Reyes as something approaching a friend, because it meant they both had someone to bitch to about the side effects.

And sure, Jack might have a bit of a crush, but that was irrelevant. They’ve known each other all of three months, and he doesn’t even know Reyes’ first name, because he’s private as hell even with the people he says he likes. All Jack knows about him for sure is he was from L.A., he was given the number 24, and that he was a vegetarian, much to his own frustration. Everything else was Jack’s educated guessing or inference from vague stories.

Jack keeps his own secrets, of course, masked by a positive attitude and deflective jokes. Out of some weird respect for Reyes, he doesn’t mention his first name either. It keeps a veneer of professionalism, making the program feel more regular army and less like some lab experiment concocted as a punishment.

It was strange, that last line of thought. Everyone he’d talked to here, or overheard, had mentioned being frankly shit soldiers. Everett, down the hall, said he hadn’t even passed basic and was about to quit when he was approached by some colonel and asked to join the S.E.P. There were some who had been facing dishonourable discharges, and Reyes claimed he probably would have been facing charges of treason if the program hadn’t insisted he join. He hadn’t elaborated, and Jack was convinced he was lying, but it was possible as anything else.

Jack almost felt left out; as far as he knew his major sin was lying about being colourblind, when he was suddenly offered a place here. Nothing quite so dramatic as the others, but Reyes found it funny, so he felt at peace with it.

He didn’t read in too much to why Reyes’ approval, of sorts, made him feel better. It was irrelevant, after all.

What does happen is Jack starts bleeding, and doesn’t stop.

Two weeks after they stop the injections, Jack wakes up to Reyes hauling him out of bed and a nosebleed that soaks his pillow. He wants to ask what’s going on, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is more blood.

“Jesus fuck,” Reyes says, and hauls Jack’s arm over his shoulder as they leave for the med bay.

He almost wants to laugh; until now he had felt completely fine, tired sometimes, no worse than anyone else. The taste of iron is overwhelming, and his legs fail him multiple times as they go, the bleeding only intensifying. He is surprised by how much dying actually hurts.

“Had to do this just as I was starting to like you, Morrison,” Reyes grimaces, as he sweeps Jack into a fireman’s carry. He’s trying to joke, but there’s fear in his voice that Jack’s never heard before, and that makes him panic more than the trail of blood he’s leaving in their wake.

When he’s next aware of where he is, they’re in the med bay. Reyes is arguing with a disinterested doctor, who is insisting they keep him for observation. Jack would feel validated about his conspiracy theory if it hadn’t been a matter of life and death for him. Everything is clammy, and his eyes are wet with what he knows isn’t tears.

“You can’t let him die,” Reyes shouts, and Jack feels warm despite the blood loss.

The doctor’s response doesn’t quite reach him, but he does hear something about necessary sacrifice. Jack isn’t sure if his own protest happens in his mind or in reality, but he does feel a warm hand on his arm, and that is just enough.

Jack swims in and out of consciousness for what feels like years; when he’s awake, everything is dull and he can taste and smell nothing but his own blood. There’s some noise, medical equipment and voices pushing through the veil and coming to him garbled and unintelligible, and he gives up trying to parse it, eventually. Every moment he’s conscious feels static and unchanging. It gets boring, when he can feel boredom.

Time passes, or it doesn’t. Every moment he’s aware of reminds him of the time he mistook a penny for some chocolate as a kid, to the point his teeth start to ache. When he does consciously see things, it looks like pennies, too.

Jack wonders if he made a mistake, coming here. Agreeing that he had cheated, and to give up his autonomy to rectify it. Something he was used to his whole life. There was some measure of a choice, here, but when the world was ending it didn’t really feel like one.

God, he thinks at one point. I didn’t even make it to twenty-one.

You will, says the presence at his side. You’ve made it this far, you’ll be okay.

It hasn’t spoken before, the figure. He’s not sure if it was the doctors, finally conceding he was worth more alive, or something more intangible and terrifying. It follows him regardless of how awake he is, warm and soothing despite his fear of it. Whether his world is blurred with blood or darkness he can feel it, keeping constant vigil. Jack eventually calls it Death, deciding it must be protecting its quarry, waiting for the moment the doctors give up and let him go.

A whisper cuts through his own thoughts - you’re not going to die, and I’m not Death, for fuck’s sake.

Which is something Death would say, he’s sure, although Jack had never thought about it until now. But he was fine with dying if Death was so casual in conversation. He would have hated to try to parse some grand cryptic speech.

You’re going to live, it says. You’re not going to die. Quietly; you can’t.

There’s guilt in the whisper this time. Jack feels almost apologetic at having pinned the voice as Death rather than anything else; it could be a ghost, a spirit, an angel.

I’ve heard that one before. Amused.

Jack never had been particularly invested in faith, or angels, so that comes as a surprise. He accepts the thought for a while, drifting, and either seconds or years later chances: are you at least a famous one?

The angel laughs, and it’s warm and familiar in ways he can’t pin through the haziness of where he is. Oh yeah, one of the best.

Jack has no idea why God would send an important angel to look over a dying gay kid from a corn farm, especially when there are certainly people more deserving, but he is in no place to argue. The penny-taste sharpens, and there is the loom of the angel again nearby, more present than ever.

I came here for you because I wanted to, it says, and Jack slips back into darkness.

They don’t communicate again, but the warmth is there whenever he is able to feel, even when the sensation of blood overwhelms everything else. Whenever there’s pain, there’s a soothing whisper or the memory of a touch. Jack likes this, in a way, even as he expects the inevitable end. There’s a gentleness to this other he hadn’t experienced in a long time; if his last moments were indeed his last, he was thankful there was a semblance of love in them.

Jack, in some way, smiles.

Jack wakes up to penniless vision, and heavy warmth on his shoulder.

He’s aware of the amount of tubes and wires attached to him almost immediately. Every part of him hurts, and even though the only light is a dim lamp across the room his eyes sting from the brightness. The weight on his shoulder isn’t uncomfortable, though, and he lets himself absorb the heat for a while before he turns his aching head and eyes to look.

Reyes is leaning over on the bed beside him, head resting against Jack’s shoulder, dozing lightly. Jack feels himself go red immediately, and then is startled that he has any blood left to do so. He’s breathing evenly, and when he clenches his hands there is a pulse he doesn’t remember being so strong before. His heart monitor, thankfully, does not go wild, remaining steady.

Huh, he thinks. I lived.

His movements wake Reyes, delayed slightly by sleep. They blink at each other momentarily, before Reyes jolts upright, clenching at the one part of Jack’s arm that’s free of wires.

“Hrgh,” is all Reyes says, after a long pause. Jack thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Reyes coughs, then buries his face in his free hand, rubbing his eyes and orienting himself. “Right, yeah. Okay, are you aware of where you are?”

Jack nods. His throat is too dry to speak.

Reyes peers at him through a crack in his fingers, like he can’t quite trust his own eyes. Jack nods again for emphasis.

“Okay. Good enough for me.” Reyes’ hand is still clinging to his arm, and Jack feels himself getting flustered. Reyes sits back up and presses some button on the wall. “Doctor will be here soon, assuming it’s the halfway decent one on duty. You better be lucid this time, though, or they’re going to kill me.”

Jack smiles, and nods, and tries a very shitty and weak thumbs up. Reyes watches it all with open wonder, as if he’d never seen Jack move before. As if he’s genuinely pleased that Jack is alive.

Jack is thankful the doctor comes in right as the heart monitor really does start to pick up.

Eternity ends up being more like three weeks, and Jack is almost embarrassed when the doctor describes his constant, violent exsanguination as if it was all some glorified overreaction. She gives him water for his throat, and says he has best be grateful that medical technology had meant he hadn’t needed feeding tubes and the like. He stares at the water and tries to be.

Jack had been lucky, apparently, that there were enough blood donors of his type at the base, as well as the problem being anticipated enough that they knew of potential treatments. A lot of jargon he doesn’t understand or really care about, he just nods along even as the doctor mentions coagulants and returning to the injection courses in the same breath, as if they hadn’t almost killed him.

He had been lucky. Four others had died. Lucky sure didn’t feel like the right word.

Reyes glares at the doctor the entire time, mouth set in a hard line, and eventually she gets so uncomfortable she cuts her speech short and leaves with a vague promise of checkups. He softens the moment the door closes behind her, and manages a smile as Jack leans back, exhausted.

“You really had everyone worried,” he says, at last.

“Yeah--” Jack swallows, grimaces at how awful the words feel and taste. “Ugh. My many fans.”

Reyes shifts, uncomfortably. “I know I’m not exactly the most exciting face to wake up to, no need to sound so disappointed.”

Jack immediately thinks, There’s nothing else I’d rather see, then gets so profoundly embarrassed he chokes mid-sip of his water. Reyes laughs, awkwardly pats him on the back, being careful not to jostle the IV.

Reyes laughs, and it feels familiar and warm, and there’s no haze to fight through this time. Jack’s hands tense around the cup.

“I appreciate,” Jack starts, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. “you being here. Nearly dying is… scary.”

“No shit.” Reyes half smiles, amused. “Knew you’d need, well, something vaguely familiar to wake up to. And I figured none of the other idiots on this base had the patience for it.”

Jack feels caught between intrigue, and dread. “So you stayed the whole time?” A small pause, and he tries to deflect: “Couldn’t let me go ‘til I wrote you in the will, right?”

Reyes furrows his brow. “Yeah.” Then he chuckles, almost to himself. “Had to get you to leave your farm to me, or whatever.”

Jack snorts; he has absolutely no claim to his family’s farm. “You wouldn’t last a day.”

“It’s just corn, how hard can it be?”

Jack knows he’s never told Reyes that. Consciously. “Pretty hard. You don’t look like you’ve ever set foot on farmland.”

“I have,” Reyes insists, and Jack notices how warm he is, even when they’re not touching. “My mom had a friend we visited once. Somewhere out of state, don’t remember where. I got to churn butter.”

There is so much pride in the way he says it, Jack bursts into laughter despite himself. Reyes looks offended for a moment before covering his mouth to try and suppress his own laugh, and failing horribly.

He rights himself, eventually, the cup of water miraculously unspilled. “Butter, right. Don’t know why I ever doubted your farmhand capabilities.”

“Butter’s important.” Reyes smiles, pats Jack on the arm. “Hey, look. You need rest.”

“I was literally unconscious for three weeks, dude, I’m dying to move.” Jack shuffles painfully into a better sitting position, body protesting. “I totally feel like I could do laps.”

“No you don’t,” Reyes says, pushing him back into the bed. “Get some real rest, Morrison.”

Jack feels very compelled to do something stupid, weird sense of respect or no. He had nearly died, after all.

“Jack, by the way.” He tilts his head. “You don’t have to call me that, but I feel I owe you my name for nearly dying on you.”

Reyes stares at him for a minute, face blank. Jack gets increasingly nervous, like he’s crossed some sort of unspoken line, assuming that Reyes being there meant they were anything more than friends by necessity. And Reyes was very private, maybe he didn’t want to share names ‘cause it felt too personal? What if he-

“Gabriel,” Reyes says at last. There’s a pause, and then he grins, sticks out his hand like they’re meeting for the first time. Jack shakes it.

“Like the angel,” Jack says, dumbly.

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s smile is warm, and knowing. “One of the best.”

#overwatch #reaper76 #this is like. its not explicitly pacrim au compliant but its also not not.#this concept came to me in a dream im not even lying i have problems #also i havent written from jacks perspective in years and i thought it was fair i guess #THIS IS SO STUPID. SORRY

52 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

Dating Beverly Marsh Would Include...

Requested: [I'm sorry I can't remember who requested this or if this was an anon, I'm sorry!] Hey, could I request some headcanons about dating Beverly? (Also if you could add in the reader having homophobic parents 💕)

Warnings: obviously there will be homophobia, [at the end so people can skip if they need to read safely 😊] specifically from the readers parents so please feel free to skip if need be. And remember my blog is a safe space 💕 oh yeah theres also plenty of grammar/spelling errors i'm sure

A//n: This was WAY longer than I anticipated. I just kept coming up with more stuff and holy crap I love writing Bev x readers???? Please request more Bev Edit: this was in my drafts forever and again as much as i have been trying to get requests out in order, it's been pretty tough but at least this way stuff gets out sooner so here ya go.

Okay

First of all..

Y'all make the CUTEST COUPLE, OKAY?!

Like no joke

You know that cliche about girls stealing their boyfriends hoodies/clothes??

Well that goes for both of you and you both are always swapping clothes cause you both love each other's sense of style

Plus, ya know, it's got that great boyfriend girlfriend smell

It's cheesy and played out, but it's honestly so wholesome, and again, you guys each have an interest in each others senses of styles

If you're bigger than her, and her clothes don't necessarily fit you, pfffttt no big deal, she had a million blankets that smelled like her and then you two got together and now she can only find like,, two. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love stealing your clothes!! They're baggier on her but oH MY GOODNESS DOES SHE LOVE THAT. She just loves being able to completely immerse herself in your stuff. Especially when she isn't feeling safe in her own home and you aren't around, the best thing for her is to wrap herself in her your stuff and be comforted by you. Uggh, its hella sweet

But let's start from the beginning...

Both of you knew about each other from school

You definitely heard the many rumors about "Beaver-ly Marsh"

Not that you participated, but you were always overhearing rumors from gossiping girls and bragging boys in your class

Your school wasn't huge but it wasn't small either

But it was kill or be be killed, and rumors spread like the damn plague

It was inevitable

And it was just a matter of time before you overheard the several rumors of the "slut" who did it with every guy in school.

You'd roll you're eyes at the word and the ridiculous insinuations, knowing the massively overplayed game of telephone that ruled your school was not necessary the most credible source of information

And you were positive there were rumors about you, I mean, it really wasn't possible to go to that school without a rumor going around

Everyone had one

Anyways, you never paid much attention to them, but then you met her...

And oh no.

Immediately, it was:

You already never paid much mind to the rumors, but when you got to know each other??

Nuh uh.

No way

Not Beverly

No no no no, no

She was way too sweet, and shy, and beautiful, and awesome, and funny, annnd oh no the damn butterflies were back and shit she made you feel things

And you??

Bevery had no clue she was into girls until you came along...

You were her gay awakening and her being so used to all those nasty things people said about her and all those boys??

Even though it wasn't true, any of it, she still always expected that eventually one day she'd get her first boyfriend, to love and cuddle with and everything normal

Again, then you came along and her heart was all like

BOOM BOOM BEECH

You both danced around each other a lot. Seeing as you were two precious little gay beans that lived in a conservative town in the 80s, it wasn't exactly the most accepting environment and you guys didn't know if the other was into girls at all

On both sides it was "does she like me or is she just really laid back and friendly???"

It took way too long to figure out you were both into each other

If I'm being completely honest here, y'all were like the female reddie

Two girls who became best friends and always bickered like crazy to hide your feelings

The way you two found out you had feelings for one another was bumpy and awkward but silly and cute nonetheless

It came off in a passing comment that just slipped out

The two of you were having a sleepover like you did every Friday night you were available

and you two were laying on her bedroom floor talking about anything and everything staring at the ceiling

Her radio was playing in the background and the two of you were surrounded by various snacks you had been munching on all throughout the night and the conversation drifted to gossip about your peers at school

It went a little something like this:

Y: "Did you see so and so today??"

B: "Yes!!"

Y: *laughing* "Yeah, what the hell was that?"

B: I have no idea what goes on in her head...

B: but I guess I gotta give her some credit, she's always super confident and I'm like, 90% sure that's what makes her the most desirable girl in the 8th grade"

Y: "I guess that makes sense"

B: "I do wish I had her confidence. Maybe I'd have better luck romantically"

Y: "Oh please, like you need that. You're infinitely more attractive than her"

B: "What?"

Y: *panicked* "What?"

B: *slowly sits up with smug ass smirk on her lips* are you saying you find me... attractive?"

Y: ..."what?" *sweating*

B: *still smirking* "Wait,"

Y: "WhAT?"

B: *stILL smirking* "do you-?"

Y: *full on gay panic* "No!"

B: *smirking and blushing*

B: *lays back down* "well, I think you're pretty attractive yourself, if it's any consolation"

She's still so nervous though so it comes out in a whisper

She's 99 percent certain you just accidentally revealed your crush to her but her heart was p o u n d i n g anyway

What if it just came out wrong and that's why you panicked???

Had she just revealed her crush to you by mistake???

But no

You both were a blushing mess and it did not go unnoticed by either one of you

You're hands kinda accidently brushed and you both just had a heart attack on the spot

But the connection you two had that night

You both just... knew

You guys kinda just... happened

After that you both were aware you liked each other

But it was kind of unspoken

At first

It's not like you guys never talked about it, but you two definitely became more touchy and flirty

Holding hands when no one was looking

Shortly before you guys happened and before that night, she had introduced you to losers and they just totally accepted you as one of their own

You got along especially well with Richie (wonder why)

But Bev wasn't too happy about this particular fact...

Especially after you two got together

She wasn't necessarily jealous, especially cause she already had a sneaking suspicion about his feelings for another loser, but because he took up a lot of her time with you

But then, to her chagrin, Richie found out about you two

the eight of you were hanging out in the clubhouse, and Ben had to make some adjustments so him and the others left momentarily to help him get the resources

Except you, and Bev

You two volunteered to hold down the fort [literally]

aaaaaaand you two wanted to have a few minutes alone together too,

Nothing scandalous or anything like that, but you two didn't get be close around the losers

Then Richie returned way earlier than expected [turns out he was doing more harm than good and they sent him back]

He was just outside the entrance and he overheard you two

"I wish we could tell them,"

"I know. And it's not that I don't think they'll accept us, it's-" *sigh* "I'm just not ready... I'm sorry"

"Don't be. It's okay, we can tell them when we're both good and ready."

"Thank you, Y/n."

Richie just kinda stood there thinking about what he just heard

I mean, it made sense, you guys were really close, but then again, that's just how he thought all girls were

But everything else kinda made more sense the more he thought about it

And, it honestly reminded him of him and Eddie

More specifically, how he felt about his best friend

Now naturally this was a very emotional moment, but Richie Tozier being Richie Tozier wasn't about to waltz in there and give some sappy speech about he accepts you guys and he's here for you no matter what

No, no, no

He laid down on the forest floor, sticking his head in the clubhouse scaring the shit out of you two and said

"You guys should really be more quiet, Ben may be a suspiciously good overnight kid architect sensation but he has yet to soundproof this baby"

He then stuck his arm inside the clubhouse, patting the ceiling, shaking a couple spiders loose from his his hand in disgust

"Richie...!"

You two jumped apart and you about nearly shit your pants

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone,"

You both were startled as hell and absolutely disgruntled but the two of you looked at each other, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief

He got up and joined you two in the clubhouse, and began lounging in his usual spot in the hammock, arms behind his head

"So, this means you two are both into girls, huh?"

Once again, you looked at one another and back at him, nodding shyly

He plastered on the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen and nodded his head, his huge eyes squinting slightly from behind his glasses

"niceee"

This of course was followed by simultaneous eye rolls, Bev even threw her gum wrapper at him but you laughed

It was a relieved laugh

Here you were, exposed and unintentionally outed to Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier and sure enough his reaction was "nICE"

It was honestly a relief and kinda hilarious

You guys just kinda broke out into laughter

It was nice moment

***TRIGGER WARNING FOR [PARENTAL] HOMOPHOBIA BELOW***

And for a while, everything was great. That was, until your parents began to take note just how much time you were spending with Bev

They kept an eye on it at first

Then they started asking questions

You knew this day would come one way or another

Hell, you grew up with them after all, you knew what they thought about people like you and it broke your heart

It terrified you

And it's exactly what you heard every night when you tried to fall asleep, their voices speaking to you clear as day; how disgusted they were. They weren't really there of course and it wasn't until you became a loser that you found out what that voice was...

The point is, your deepest fear was being realized so you did what you could do

Lie

And it seemed to work. Briefly

Your mother had come in to check on you two for the fifth time - usually she checked on you two four times since their suspicions - and found you two snuggled up on top of your sleeping bags

Your mother screamed, scaring the crap out of you guys and you jumped apart

Your mother was thrown into hysterics and went to fetch your father, wailing like a damn baby

Needless to say that night was a long one for everyone

And as if things couldn't get any worse, just days later you found out that Beverly had been taken by It

Immediately, every doubt, every fear, every inkling of shame your parents and your community had drilled into you was forgotten and all that mattered was getting her back

You and your friends literally went through hell to get her back

Needless to say it was a terrifying ordeal but you all had each other's backs and everyone came out okay

When you left Neibolt, you and Beverly were hand in hand

You couldn't give a flying fck about it, you just fought a shape-shifting demon clown you could face your small minded parents

And more importantly you knew even if your parents didn't support you, you had other people who did that and that was enough

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Hope you enjoyed, sorry it's so long and again this is out of order of who requested it so I'm sorry to those of you who had stuff in before this, but I've just been stuck for too long and I needed to get things moving again. Anyways, I hoped you guys like this and again, omg I love writing Beverly!!! I would not be offended if you guys asked for more Bev fics/hc when I open up requests again

#beverly marsh headcanon request #beverly marsh imagine #beverly marsh x reader #beverly marsh #headcanon #head canon #beverly marsh headcanon #beverly marsh head canon #bev head canon #beverly hc #beverly marsh hc #bev marsh hc #hc #hc request #homphobia #homophobia warning #it #it requests #it request

139 notes · View notes

italianfish · 4 years

Text

Here’s some things that I’ve overheard recently

- Michael Jackson part 1, before he came around

- That’s a sexy gauge

- We have cones in our eyes??? *Turns to friend* Show me your eyes.

- What’s ROYGBIV? Is that a person?

- I put the jewish inside of him

- The air in my house is polluted with sleeping pills

- One day someone will react to my gay jokes

- One day someone brought a tub of ice cream out of their backpack in the middle of class

- Hey Francis (Talking to a blow up alien)

- Why do you like assholes

- Aladdin doesn’t have nipples

- Support your own god damn neck!

- I saw my friend in the bathroom and he gave me orange juice

- FORM THE EQUATOR!!!

- Yes, indeed my good sir

- Sharing your wealth is the way to become poor

- I’m sorry I don’t have calcium in my body

- Why the pancreas?!

- I watched this show and these characters exploded and it was my favorite show

- Someone is going to lose a pancreas

- A: Don’t lose your pancreas B: I’ll try to hold onto it

- She knew how to multiply! And I was like “You’re only three!”

- Come on Moser, hitting the nut won’t do anything

- I work with a prostitute

- I love crunchy pancakes

- You are a big neon doof

- Look I can spit, I’m cool now

- ‘Ay! Trout!

- In her free time she did her taxes

- Hey! You like Raisin Bran?

- If you get a rooster you’ll be hungry, unless you eat him

- It smells like Hawaii

- If A claims he’s a god and Jesus says he’s the son of god... Does that mean Jesus is A’s son?

- We managed to convince our sub that this was a film and lit class so we watched infinity war all period

- A- So let’s keep the duck B- It’s a vulture...

- Did you just call me fuzzy?

- I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on

- He looks like a punk rock jazz drummer

- A- British! British! B- I HAVE A NAME!

- Stop putting your dog in the oven!

- Did you expect it to be that good of a cactus?

- I relate to Squidward so much

- He was like the dad that left to get cigarettes and never came back

- We’re literally following Marty Mcfly

- My elbows are funky fresh

- A- You shank em’ B- No! That is the exact opposite of a solution!

- Unicorns caused global warming

- A- No balls in class! B- But we’re in health

- The crazy chellos are back

- See! I do have friends!

- It’s a train, a train of love

- A- Why do they keep getting rid of the babies? B- I don’t know, abortion

- You have to earn the bucket hat

- My friend brought in 7 bucket hats

- Hide the forks!

- The turtles tried to cross the road once

- I’m scared of turtles

- So does everyone just carry a sword around in their back pocket?

- When you’re fishing, anyone in a bucket hat has authority

- She has cheese on her hook!

- Are your knee pits moist?

- Why are you molesting me with water

- I was born vaccinated

- I was born to be a little spoon

- Why do I look like a hispanic man

- Can I tickle your knee pits?

- You’re going to get eaten by the ocean

- A- You’re a hot mess B- Hey! At least I’m hot!

- They’ve developed a handshake! Isn’t this a problem?!

- We’re in the OG thirteen colonies

- A- I’m not used to seeing those big grassy structures B- You mean trees?!

- My name is bagged milk

- You only drink bagged milk once, in Canada

- It’s not expensive, you’re just poor

- I forgot I’m a lady

- That’s you after I poop

- I want to be Brazilian

- I figured out what the voice was! They’re playing Bingo

- A- Do “coo coo” B- CAW

- It’s probably in a nice aisle, aisle 9

- So inside the bag there are 3 more bags full of milk

- Mom we got the bagged milk

- He told me I looked like Nicholas Cage

- Her bio says inhale the kale

- I feel like an easy bake oven

- The bags just like, left

- But what about the unicorns

- Look at that potato! That looks free!

- Everyone! Find a piece of metal and lick it

- I’m the toilet man

- Go fetch me grapes

- All girls want to molest this

- He ate a whole pancake out of an Applebee’s dumpster

- Why did he eat turf

- I’m on a mission to find dairy products

- I was going to go to school and pretend to be a witch

- Remember when you put the lotion in my mouth and I drank it?

- We’re playing quarter baseball

- Pretend you’re sleeping

- The ultimate frisbee association

- My mom picked me up from school so I could go to ultimate frisbee practice

- They got a $2000 grant for a barely existing ultimate frisbee team

- She’s ultra mom

- The dodgeball guy called my friend a walrus

- We did a dramatic reading of an adult novel

- He was buying materials to make a whip

- Grate her down like a piece of cheese

- We sat in a circle and named our most Jewish quality

- 4 is the cosmic number

- I hate being a fertile woman

- Excuse me I’m Jewish

- Surprise disco duet

- I shook like 7 tents

- She’s the strings teacher, we keep her in the basement

- Whenever we finished a test and we said “I’m done” he would say “I’m done! You’re finished!” his last name was Done

- I thought the fire hydrant was a turkey

- I asked him if his password was like an anniversary or something and he said “It’s the date of my grandparents death”

- He gives us weekly quantum physics lectures

- Bruh! That looks like a lunchbox!

- No offense but this guy would make out with a floorboard

- You seem like the kind of person to kiss a floorboard

- You sound exactly like my pediatrician

- Lots of poop, no sock

- She’s not doing her work, she’s looking at Peppa pig

- Yo neighbor, I need some sugar

- White moms are really easy to scare

- Even though it’s part of Asia, ITS NOT

- Why was there a hanging waffle?!

- I got complimented on my croissant

- You can sell your liver

- Bernie Sanders reminds me of a muppet

- WHY IS THERE A HELICOPTER IN THE KITCHEN!!!!

- What are you going to do? Hunt squirrels?

- *A bunch of AP students shouting “Linguini”*

- I got bitten by an iguana in Aruba

- We got an actor to join the hammock group chat

- Say goodbye to your ovaries

- I’m half a butt cheek away from death

- Are you one of those people who puts ice cream and pop tarts in a blender

- Yo! You got any shoes I can eat???

- That’s how you segregate your trail mix???

- He has a six pack of ribs

- I’m so done with books about African children

- Do homies kiss

- I’m here for the num nums

- Don’t touch my pizza you savage!!!

- HURRY UP AND MEDITATE

- What are you for Halloween? Jewish?

- Do ducks have tails

- He was the one that broke the constitution

- Oh god now there’s Hitler on my paper

- God given right of ruling... Manifest destiny in China

- Do you shampoo your eyebrows

- This isn’t Bayblade!

- Bob Ross wasn’t an artist, he was an art therapist

- If anyone on the team is a jellyfish, it’s definitely Brandon

- It’s your fault that I’m not going to college!

- I’m having spinach for dinner! I’m so excited!

- I locked him in his toolbox

- Let’s rent a midget for a day and we can throw him against a wall

- I know how to utilize money, but do I know how to utilize it well, that’s another question

- Man, that place needs a Chick-fil-a, and I’m going to make it

- We should have the purge in school one day

- If you’re weird enough, people won’t want to rape you

- Flex seal it with tape

- Oh yeah, I got vinegar all over my sweatshirt

- Don’t say “Have a good day”, because I’m not having a good day

- Well maybe someday you’ll have cancer

- What’s up guys, I’m from Richie’s pizza, and today I’ll be showing you my body count

- An obo sounds like a clarinet with Down syndrome

- I DONT HAVE ANY MARINARA SAUSCE ON ME RIGHT NOW

- WE WILL SMUGGLE OUR KIDS TO AMERICA

- I’m the jolly black giant

- You pissed off a priest

- If we get a lot of money, I can take her boyfriend to prom

- Ted Bundy would share a lot of ideas with you

- They’re doing a milk experiment... But with marinara

- A- That’s not a color! B- But it’s on a crayon!

- Hey what’s up cheese goblin

- I’m letting my toes breathe

- I’m just saying, tinfoil doesn’t taste that bad

- YOURE EATING IT YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE

- When I was away were you in my house? Because it’s happened before

- How do you say I have scoliosis in Italian?

- I’m gonna give give birth to a duck, right here, right now

- Are you comparing a 3D printed violin to genocide

- I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST BLACK PEOPLE

- Brother from another mother, TELL ME ABOUT THAT

- I’m a vulture, just vulturing

- I’m going on a field trip to the sewage treatment plant on my birthday

- You’re making my vagina angry

- Competitive Just Dance team

- Oh no there’s spaghetti falling out of my pockets!

- (Yoda impression) Take anger out on minorities I must

- I can turn off the lights and you’d still be white

#overheard #i just overheard #conversation #funny #funny conversations #haha #long post

52 notes · View notes

tandytoaster · 5 years

Text

I’m gonna be a fuckin bitch for this post and i’m not really sorry i don’t think.

So i’m in college. For social work. To help people. You know. Getting my life together. And in the beginning I made a friend who likes nintendo games and i was like OH BOY, MAYBE THEY LIKE METROID. they did not and i have continuously made the mistake of associating with this kid. Like almost every day he does something that makes my skin crawl with the feeling of “oh my god i canNOT relate to this kid at all”.

At first my issue with him was that he reminded me exactly of Tristan except not evil. My second issue was just that he gave me wicked secondhand embarrassment. My third issue is that I have not the slightest idea why he’s still in this course, he has proved time and time again that he has learned nothing.

The first red flag that went up for me was personal because he reminded me of Tristan. The second one went up when he said that he felt gay people were shoving their gayness down people’s throats and that he was sick of the rainbow flag. When he first said that I was like, are you fucking kidding me? I told him about the ratio how many straight movies there are compared to gay ones, I told him about how the rainbow flag is a symbol of safety and acceptance, WE HAVE ONE IN OUR GODDAMN CLASSROOM. He told me that in highschool almost every classroom had a gay flag in it and almost everyday there was a class discussion about it. I asked him if it was the students or teachers who brought it up and he said “mehhhh it was the students” SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT TELLS ME? THAT THOSE WERE GAY OR TRANS STUDENTS NEEDING ACCEPTANCE. AND YOU’RE HERE IN FRONT OF ME, IN FRONT OF THIS RAINBOW FLAG, COMPLAINING ABOUT THEM. He wanted to “agree to disagree” about it but I was like “no man your views are potentially harmful”. People overheard us arguing and they sided with me, the student council president i think it was spoke to us and said (in response too “theres too much gay stuff”) “I’m actually trying to get them to paint the crosswalks here rainbow”, so like, take that.

And we talk about this stuff in class fairly often. We’ve spoken about the importance of symbols, identity, flags, safe spaces, we get DEEP into it. But you know what this kid does all class? He looks at memes or plays fire emblem heroes on his phone, sometimes he plays his whole ass switch in class. OR! or or or, he gets up and leaves in the middle of a lesson that holds CRITICAL information that would help him become less ignorant and prejudiced. Just the other week we were talking about how straight people will never know the struggle, the oppression, that nonstraight people face, and of course this kid was just playing on his phone, and ohohoho the instructor called him on it and got mad and it was honestly? So satisfying.

So I had to be the one to explain to him what oppression is and how fuckign serious it is. People fucking die man. This was around the time the whole “gays own splatoon” thing happened and the dude was SO upset about it. I was like “.... you realize those are all jokes right? Nobody means anything by it”. He sort of got it but one thing he said is like, big fuckin yikes. He said he seen a meme on the drawing feature or whatever that said “straight people suck at splatoon” or something and he said he was actually offended by that and if it wasn’t for the fact that his best friend is a lesbian, these jokes that he’s seeing would probably turn him into a little bit of a homophobe. And because I had to be civil and he did want my help I was like “you have to work on that, you NEED to do something about that”. Because you can’t be like that in general and you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT be like that going into the field we’re going into.

I wish he paid attention in class so then he wouldn’t come to me to ask “hey how do i not be homophobic” and get me all mad but then i cant get mad because that doesnt help either of us. at least its good practice for the future and any weirdos i get in my career.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh “at least”. That’s one of his favourite things to say :))))))))) at least at least at least AT LEEAST. We’ve been through a semester and a half of counselling skills and you still have not learned how to properly console people. “At least” belongs in a pity pile, “At least” is you saying “youre problems arent THAT bad :)” you think it sounds nice but really youre just belittling the person and their issues. oh my fuck he SMOTHERS people if they’re having problems. Last week I guess I was “off” or some shit idk! something i didnt wanna talk to him about, AND HE KEPT GOING ON “whats wrong. do you wanna talk about it. you seem upset. you seem upset. whats wrong. im here”, SO I TURNED TO THE DUDE AND WAS LIKE “You’re going to make me a lot worse if you keep asking, and you and I both know you hate it when I get angry :)” like im ready to verbally rip this kid a new one i am SO ready.

Today he was smothering one of our friends because they went through a break up and oh my god even the tone of voice he uses sets off my shut-the-fuck-up reflexes ?? He was like “do you need anything, do you need snacks, do you need a hug, do you want me to buy you something, do you want me to rough him up, do you want me to send him a message, please dont cry crying is bad, do you want a hug” and our poor friend just sat their sulking not saying anything PROBABLY BECAUSE HE WAS SMOTHERING THEM. They got up and went somewhere so i turned to him and said “YOU ARE SMOTHERING THEM (awkward laugh to attempt to hide my anger) you are smothering them you cant do that. So he said “Hey you know word of advice you need to word things better because you might hurt someone’s feelings” and all i said was “right”. Then later in the day I’m talking to our heartbroken friend and I’m using actual skills we learned in class and WHAT DO YOU KNOW, we’re making progress and they’re talking about it to me.

I’m so aggressive with this dude because 1, i cant stand him, and 2, he hasnt gotten it through our non aggressive talks in class. I wanna kick this into him, like 2013 tumblr style LISTEN UP FUCKER type of shit.

When i explained to him a few weeks ago that Homophobia Is Bad, do you know how he thanked me????????? He gave me his copy of ssb melee. That game is like his pride and joy and it sells for 80 fucking dollars and he gave it to some bitch that doesnt even like him. I don’t even want a thank you for telling you to not be a homophobic piece of shit. So now I have this copy of melee that i feel horrendous about having because I don’t even like this kid anymore i’m sick of him.

and the week after he gave me that guess what i found out haha???? HE HAS A CRUSH ON ME!!!!!!!!!! AWFUL!!!!!!!!! WHY DO YOU LIKE ME!!!!!! I HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT CONTINUOUSLY HURT YOUR FEELINGS I DO NOT GET IT.

Last week he left a bag of those hersheys clusters on my part of the table and when i seen them a wave of defeat and anger washed over me, i dont want your fuckin gifts, i dont want your money, i dont want you to give me things because you like me. i do not appreciate it. it feels wrong. I think he cried because i didn’t acknowledge the bag. after class he said he got them for me and i told him i didnt feel right taking them, so he said “just pretend that they came out of nowhere” and i shook my head and said no and i left them there. idk what happened to that bag.

twice back in september he commented on my eating habits, said i had a sweet tooth WHEN I WAS EATING HEALTH FRUIT GUMMIES???? so now i cant eat in front of him or else i panic.

we’re fine texting each other but i really do not enjoy being around him irl. and today i came to the realization that I’m not gonna get along and vibe with everybody, he just happens to be one of those people.

so now i’m like, angry a lot of the time again because i have to deal with him and his terrible work ethics and tristan transference

I should’ve known he didn’t like metroid.

#noop nooping #YA LIVE YA LEARN YA GET MAD.

9 notes · View notes

spacenerrrd · 6 years

Text

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover: Chapter 4

Sander Sides

Word count: 1519

Characters: Patton/Creativity, Virgil/Anxiety, Patton/Morality, Logan/Logic

Warnings: Negative thinking, kinda the start to a panic attack. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Logan runs a library in a small town, allowing him to share his love of books without feeling left out. His business partner and friend Roman helps by running the bright Disney themed cafe that attracts more people to stay for longer. The two clashing but somehow perfect match of a friendship went their days peaceful in their small community until one day a new pair of brother; Patton and Virgil, moved into town and showed the owners a new way of life.

Chapter four: A nice encounter

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

~~~

Scrape.

Roman was cleaning the area of the cafe after the library had closed. Humming one of his favourite songs when he’s working in the cafe, Gaston, he dusted and broomed after pushing the tables and chairs to the side. He insisted that he would pack up after Logan’s emotional afternoon, not letting him know of his own. Lights flickering off to hide the cakes and lettering of his little part to the library, the rest of it was soon turned off as he walked out. Gloves on to keep his fingers from freezing, he made his way down the road. Like Logan, he was lucky to be able to be walking distance from the library. Starting to break into a light jog (which was awkward considering his prince outfit wasn’t fit for running), his boots trotted heavily along the apartment before turning into the cul-de-sac. Nose starting to go pink from the cold, he made quick work of the keys and rushing inside. Taking a sigh. He turned the lights on and the heater to full blast. As much as he loved to play the prince persona as if he was actually one, he went straight to his room to take off the boots, suit and makeup that started to weigh him down. Getting changed into his Disney pyjamas, he played some soft rhythms through his phone to calm his already exhausted brain from over working anymore. Only having left overs to eat, the aroma of pasta goodness filled the house as he waited for the microwave to stop. He could finally let his expression be true to itself in the safety of his own home. He didn’t smile, or look that joyful at all. Bags under his eyes and poorly taken care of skin that the makeup his so well, his posture slumped more than his usual ‘royalty’ pose.

Beep beep beep.

Pulling the container from the microwave and sitting in the corner of the couch, he started to eat in a silence as he tried to pick a movie from his completely adult section of movies….a variation of Disney, Dreamworks and other cartoon movies.. His expression almost seeming emotionless as he finally settled on Winnie The Pooh. Finally a gentle small smile was on his face as he hummed the tune. When he saw Tigger on the screen his smile grew as it reminded him of Virgil and the kids. The story telling and sketching Virgil did for them. He cringed a little as he remembered how emotional he got and his cheeks heated up from the memory of the hug. He honestly didn’t expect it from Virgil. Someone who seemed to hate him initiated the hug and stayed with him until Roman basically demanded for him to leave so he could go home. Even then Virgil seemed hesitant but left the library with a Patton happily skipping behind. A soft smile was on his face as he relished the feeling before Roman suddenly snorted. Choking on his pasta, he was in a laughing fit. Gasping for air as he couldn’t get a breath between his laughter, he remembered that he slipped a note into Virgil’s pocket during their hug. Don’t be mistaken, he didn’t fake it. They were very much true tears, but Roman was just always prepared to leave a little something for a cute guy.

Virgil had immediately went to his room, grunting to let Patton know who went to start dinner. He sat at his desk and pulled out his sketchbook. Falling on to an open page, he stared….and that’s what he did for 45 minutes until Patton called him downstairs. Groaning in annoyance, he basically stomped down the stairs to the table. Patton had a small concerned smile on his face that calmed him down almost instantly. He sat down on the table and started eating his chicken. He never really said it, but he was grateful that Patton took the time to learn how to cook proper food for them after….

“So I saw you were helping Roman today.” Patton said, looking down at his food but Virgil could hear the smile on his face. Of course he would point it out.

“One of the kids wanted me to come over and play with them.”

“Awww that’s so just the sweetest gosh-darn thing! I overheard you guys making some wild stories, was it fun?”

Surprisingly a lot. “I guess.”

“You have to give me more than that kiddo! How was it like hanging out with Ro?”

Amazing. “It was alright.”

“Juuuuussssttt alright?”

Virgil looked up to see Patton looking at him, shimmering his shoulders and wiggling his eyebrows in a way that couldn’t stop him from laughing. “Shut up.”

“Watch your language kiddo.”

;“Yea yea. Thanks for dinner Pat, I’ve got work to...do…” Virgil was reaching into his pocket to put his headphones back in when he felt a foreign piece of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out to reveal a phone number. Who’s it was was evident by the small crowns places on the top of every 0, making the hooded boy blush. Patton raising a curious eyebrow jumped on the table to look at the paper from above. He gasped excitedly when he recognised the design. “AWWWW THIS IS SO ADORABLE!!”

Virgil trying to make an annoyed face at his brother just sulked away, message he wanted not really effective by the blush on his face. “It is not!”

“IS TOO YOU BIG SOFTY!!”

“LA LA LA I AM NOT LISTENING.” Virgil called back, blocking his ears until he made it back to his own bedroom. Sighing, he laid down on his bed, school work to be forgotten about as he stared at the number. It was calling out to him to just do it but the growing anxiousness was trying to hold him back.

“What if he didn’t think anything of that hug?”

“What if he just sees you as a loser?”

“Emo?”

“Failing student?”

“He graduated last year and he already owns a cafe. What are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re an angsty teen who is just good for no-”

“He really likes you kiddo.”

Virgil’s attention snapped up to Patton who was in his doorway. “Don’t you remember the rules about privacy Pat?”

“I do, but your door was cracked open and I heard your breaths being really heavy as I walked past. I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just worried.” Patton’s face told it. His smile was full of concern as his eyes tried to tell Virgil a million different heart warming things.

“It’s alright, I’m just….what if he doesn’t like me in anyway? What if he sees us as a tutor-student relationship? He is just so much better than me and I’m scared that he’ll think of me as nothing and-”

“Virgil, calm down.” Patton had swiftly sat next to the laying down Virgil, taking a hand between his own. “I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Believe me, he doesn’t see you as just a student. Besides, he only graduated last year himself, right?”

Virgil was afraid of his voice cracking, so he just nodded slowly.

“Exactly. He won’t see you like that, you just need to believe it.”

With the calming traces of Patton’s fingers across his knuckles, Virgil’s breaths started to even out again. His mind had slowed down and wasn’t screaming at him about everything bad that could happen. Almost like routine, once Virgil clung on to Patton’s hand a bit tighter to ask him not to leave Patton shuffled on to the bed more, lifting his younger brothers head into his lap. Sighing contently as his hair was being played with, his eyes looked up to the blue shining orbs of his brothers. His protector. “I’ll stay here with you, but I’ll promise not to look unless you show me.”

Smiling gratefully up at Patton, he grabbed his phone from his patched hoodie and opened up contacts to add the new number in. After a few shaky breaths he got the courage to open messages and send a text that took him 10 minutes of rewriting and convincing from Patton that it was fine.

anxiousemo: hey disney nerd

Virgil stared at his phone for 5 minutes. Panic was starting to set in again as the seconds tick by. Patton continued to play with his hair lightly, reassuring him that he was just busy. Virgil’s thoughts were getting loud again, betraying himself and taking his breath away. He wasn’t going to be able to stay rooted for very long. He was just pathetic and-

Ding.

They both froze as they looked at the screen

👑RoRo👑: hello dark and stormy night

Patton shrieked in joy, making Virgil jump and laugh with a smile. “Calm down calm down, he….I’ve got this.”

Patton nodded but was still jumping up and down in excitement. “I’m just so happy for my little brother.”

“Alright, thanks Pat. Now stop jumping otherwise you’re going to make the bed hit the….wall.”

Scrape.

~~~

Yoooo, I’m kinda really happy with this so I hope you guys enjoy this. If you wanna know about future chapters let me know and I’ll add you to the tag list ^-^

Next chapter

Tag list below:

@deathbyvenusftw @moonlightinwater @princeanxious @roman-is-a-gay @coffeekeyboardsss @ocotopushugs @thepoolofthedead @sanders-sides-things @angered-turtle @gayrobotalien @rebaobsessions @a-ghosts @catsandrandomness @fricksonsticks @v-blue-writer @hanramz-the-fander @your-username-is-unavailable @emphoenixcat @daughterofsomnus @anaveragegayfan @louisthewarlock @saro5100 @6tick6tock6 @nienna14 @fandomsofrandom @notalwaysthevillian @thestoryoferissur @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @virgil-crofters @thatgaydemigodnerd @ijustreallylovesanderssides @221b-quote @bubblycricket

#ayyyeee #look i've done another chapter #sander sides #logan #logic #patton #morality #virgil #anxiety #roman #creativity #logicality #prinxiety #thomas sanders #sanders #sander sides fanfic #Don't Judge a Book by its Cover #djabbic

102 notes · View notes

sweatytyrantwhispers · 3 years

Text

Part 4 of things my friends do that make me love them even more:

- both rachel and cristine are artistically talented and i cant fucking wait to see them become famous doing the things they love (i know theyll becoem famous i believe in them tht much) (rachel has a great singing voice; cristine has a great singing voice, knows how to play various intstruments, loves acting, and can paint/draw amazingly)

-seth tells me some catchphraes his fav youtubers say whenever we talk

-none of my friends (nor I) knows how to react or what to say most of the time, especially when it comes to gift giving and compliments; we’re all oblivious and awkward people that don’t understand society

-andy messes up on what to say to customer service people when its evening/night time cus we usually go out around tht time but he’s used to sauing have a good day

-andy also hates intersections so he’ll pretend hes walking in the other direction (away frm the intersection), stand on the sidewalk and pretend hes doing something, or take a whole other route if theres a car nearing the intersection bc he says it feels awkward

-rachel’s favorite animals are dogs and raccoons so when i send her a post abt raccoons she gets rly excited and says she wants to hv a raccoon as a pet when she grows up. She also gets excited when i point out a dog to her in public (she cant see it cus no glasses but still excited by its genert presence)

-dina is scared of lightning so I always try to ask her if shes alright when theres a thunderstorm

-when we go to the park, rachel almost always tries to make tiktoks. We always end up interrupting and annoying her while she makes them though, sorta like our little routine.

-last time we went to the park, rachel ended up accidentally hitting meng and I directly on the face with the volleyball (its ok though cause im pretty sure we’ve ended up accidentally hitting each other with the ball at least once)

-when i got hit with the ball dina asked me if i was ok but as she moved towards me she went for the ball (we were playing monkey in the middle and she was one of the monkeys); its just funny and i love that our friendship is at a point where we could laugh about it and everything is fine

-i told my friends that i was depressed before going to the park to hang out w them. when i got there i kinda just sat on the ground looking through reddit with music on high. they all tried their best to talk to me and tell me funny stories (they said they overheard a group of kids talking about how they pantsed another dude) to cheer me up. Dina and Rachel both decided to give me a hug at the same time and i toppled over. Dina gave me a hug again. I love them so much

- Andy called me while i was in class to tel me to look at the sunset. Its something that both of us have done a few times because we both love sunsets and usually see them when we’re out. Its a small thing but it makes me love my friends even more.

-I was on voice call with Rachel on discord and she laughed then sent the group chat a link to a tiktok

-(not my friend but my mom) She knows that i hate it when things are thrown out when they’re still good or can still be repurposed. Someone brought flowers home for some reason (i forgot why) but she was putting the flowers in a vase one day. Some of the flowers broke off the bigger portion of the stem and couldn’t be put into the big vase but she put a bunch of them into a small container for me and gave it to me. I loved it even though we did hv to throw it out like a few weeks later.

-My friends and I were at Central Park and we were waiting for my two friends to finish up taking pictures. Meng and I were taking a short nap (him sitting down w his elbows on his legs and me w my head on his shoulder) while we waited. We also shared my earbuds to listen to my music. I was p sleepy so I was on the verge of sleeping my also sorta aware of what was going on (mainly cus we were guarding our stuff while everyone else was taking pictures elsewhere). I was doing that thing you do when you’re nodding your head while trying to stay awake/go to sleep. I kept on doing that until he eventually sat up a bit more and pushed my head onto his shoulder better

-Samir looked at a shirt with george washington on it and confidently said that was benjamin franklin

-Dina was talking about how she kept on eating shrimo and peanuts even though she has a mild allergy to it. Rachel and I were telling her to stop and tht we’re not bringing it to the picnic on sunday cus we dont want her dying. She responded, very confidently, tht she “hasnt died before”

-Samir calls dina “d-money”

-Rachel gave me a hug as an im sorry for taking so long. (I genuinely didnt care cus even tho they do take a long time i still v much love them)

-Rachel takes tiktoks and videos of us while we’re out

-Rachel and Dina both got v the excited when i wore a skirt out today because I usually dress more masculine

-A few weeks ago (i think) my friends and I were at the park. I was trying to do something to meng and tripped and fell on the park ground (the part where there’s basically a bunch of tiny rocks on/in the floor). Meng was also trying to do that thing where two people hold a person’s arms and legs and swing them back and forth with me but forgot that if you take someones legs off the floor with no one else holding my arms, i would fall head first onto the park ground, which i did. Both times I laughed at myself but everyone rushed to me while laughing. Idk why but it made me feel like I was ok and safe, even if i was in so much pain, srsly i couldve had a concussion.

- Rachel and I both got excited bc we both wanted to got to the same college

-I call andy when im walking home by myself at night (or when the route im taking doesn’t necessarily hv a lot of people of lights) and he just vibes with me (sometimes talks to me abt how i should b home) until i get home safely

-idk if i already put this but Andy and I have a safe word when we think there might be someone behind us following us at night bc one time when walking home we thought tht and used our now safe word to see if there was someone

-Rachel and Dina do this thing where they take their hand and go from the side of someone else’s body (where the arms are) to the bottom of their legs rly fast while theyre walking. They call it “full body stroke”. They shared it w me and now we do it to meng almost every time we go out. Sometimes we do it together (one person per side).

-While at Central Park there was a dude that was singing (he was rly good). He started singing “Lean on me” by Bill Withers and my friends started singing along with him.

-Rachel sent me a tiktok knowing full well that itd make me gay panic bc yk ✨w o m e n✨

-Dina, Alan, and I stayed out after everyone else went home cus yk they were tired. Dina and I decided to talk like white girls/pick me girls the rest of the night with their stereotypical voices. We laughed the entire time and created weird storylines including: Jessica (Dina), Olivia (me), Jayden (Jessica’s boyfriend and brother that created on Jessica with me and Nicole), Nicole (Jessica’s friend), Olivia’s dad (a convicted felon in all 50 states and is dead), Jessica’s dad (a lawyer that’s also running for president, and Alan (he was just roped into our bs and was there to act like the dude that we both wanted to have as our bf).

- When we were in the bathroom and washing our hands, Dina waited until after the other woman in the bathroom to leave before coming up to me and, in a discreet whisper, told me that the soap was what “good pussy sounds like”

- Rachel, Dina, and I saw a few cats on our way to meet up with Alan and we played w the cats for a bit before one of them said “pspspspsp come here alan” to one of the cats. We now do this frequently to each other even though we hate it.

- We have corrupted each other to the point where we cannot hang out without someone saying “that’s what she said”, something about Dina being white, “just like this dick”, and “deez nuts”. We laugh about it a lot

- Rachel and I are both reasonably out of energy both mentally and physically after our jobs so when I walked w her to a mall w the rest of her friends, we both walked silently with a bit of catching up cause we both understood how the other felt

-We had a water balloon fight today at work (Alan, Rachel, and I work together). Obviously, I took the chance to pop as many balloons over rachel’s head and dump water on her. She tried to spray me w water using a water gun though. Afterwards gave the towel i brought to rachel cause she needed it to change. It’s important to note that rachel has purple hair right now and that the towel was white. key word: was. The towel was now stained a light purple (I dont mind but damn)

- i made rachel a purple raccoon by crocheting it (purple and pink actually). I finished it yesterday (sunday) and gave it today to her at work (monday). I opened the door a bit and peeked my head in with the raccoon just below me in my hands. She was confused at first but then saw the raccoon and her eyes lit up. It was rly cute🥰🥺 to see her get excited. We both nicknamed the raccoon “pimp jr.” and i made a lil name tag/from to tag that said it.

- rachel likes to lip-sync to music shes either listening to or hears in store and sometimes does a little dance with it. Its so cute and I love looking at her do it because it reminds me of why I adore her. She also goes hard when it comes to singing at karaoke. Like damn her vocal range is astounding

- dina got so excited when i asked her if she wanted to binge watch all the twilight movies with me. She looked so cute cus its one of her favorite movies. ugh i love my friends.

-a lot of dudes have crushes on rachel and dina and the both of them usually just try their best to avoid the person or avoid confronting them. Idk why but it kinda makes me feel grateful that I’m close friends with them because I used to have a crush on both of them before when we first met. When I told them i used to have crushes on them they didn’t act weird about it or anything and we continued to be friends. I’m so fucking grateful I’m their friend despite my initial crush on them cause they’re two of them most amazing people I’ve met my entire life.

-rachel, meng, alan, and I went to go watch Shang Chi in movies. In the last few scenes (which were v tense btw) rachel nd I both got rly anxious and squeezed each others hands bc we were scared out favorite characters were gonna get hurt. She squeezed the fuck out of my hand to the point where I couldn’t feel it anymore and neither could she. I’m ok with that though cus I’m glad she finds comfort in squeezing the living fuck out of my hands.

-dina, rachel, and I have matching bracelets from hot topic and i see them wear it almost every time we hang out. Alan and I have a matching pair too but I dont think he’s going to wear it very much (issok tho).

-We went to karaoke yesterday and I dont know how I just realized this but while she’s singing, dina likes to move around a lot. It’s not exactly dancing but not particularly just moving around. Its kinda like that tiny thing ppl do when they’re alone and playing their favorite songs on blast. She’s so cute when she does it, esp because she seems so happy when she does it. Even though I absolutely despise Justin Bieber, I would play his songs over and over again on blast if it made her as happy as she has made me.

-dina and I like to go to the swings and blast “Happier Than Ever” with earbuds in (we share a pair for this) and she screams along to it for the second half

-it’s become a “tradition” for us to go to the swings (most of time) after we’ve done the initial things we already planned out because dina and I love the swings.

0 notes

jiemba · 7 years

Text

A continuation of Chapter 199 of The Girls We Wanna Kiss by @queercapwriting , in which Alex and Maggie discuss race and privilege. Adrian is their creation, but Maggie’s brother Eddy is referenced in my backstory fic Joyride. Tw for mentions of police brutality, racism, homophobia.

(Some more Maggie backstory for you @murdershegoat @sanvndsupercorp @all-the-gay-feels @blogquantumreality @agentalex @blakebat @mcggiesawyr)

The only good thing about that night at the gay bar was that Maggie miraculously hadn’t run into a single ex - because even National City only feels huge until you start fucking people here.

No - the club had well and truly been full of strangers, and Maggie had felt their eyes on her just as sharply as the burn of overpriced vodka at the back of her throat, as thickly as the tacky pop music she couldn’t shake off. Because almost everyone in there was male, and absolutely everyone was white, and before she realised it she was drifting closer to James than Alex, shadowing him when he went to get drinks and she couldn’t fake the enthusiasm of her dancing any longer. Thankfully it was him who commented on the specificity of the crowd, what lengthy list of hip hop music they’d both rather be listening to, and it was these conversations away from Alex that had gotten her through the night. She hadn’t wanted her girlfriend – still in her shiny new world – to sense her discomfort, to pick up on the sideways looks she and James got hugging the wall together. But James had to mention it, and Maggie’s face had flushed as Alex rambled an apology, saying she didn’t realise, she didn’t know, but Maggie had been too exhausted to explain that that was part of the problem.

When they’d gotten home, they’d had a tough conversation about race, about privilege, about how Maggie can’t help but notice her difference in almost every room she’s ever been in. Yet whenever Alex tried to bring it up later, tried to learn, her throat went tight as Maggie interrupted her - “Just forget it Danvers, I’m used to it, it’s not your problem to fix.” Because Alex knew Maggie was a woman running from her own shadow, that she was all broken glass – beautiful, but sharp. She didn’t like to talk about herself, and everything was “whatever”, but Alex needed her to believe that she would love her through anything she was too scared to say. It did come up, in bits and pieces over the following weeks – and each time, Alex internally scolded herself for her unintentional but vast blindness from the shelter she’d grown up in. When Alex teasingly called her “Margaret” while making dinner, Maggie had told her that her name was actually Magdalena, how the white kids at school would never forgive her for it. When Alex overheard a snippet of a phone call with her Aunt and said afterwards, “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish”, Maggie had corrected her by saying that it was Portuguese – that only her Dad’s side spoke Spanish – and Alex felt too embarrassed by her error to ask where each of her parents were from. When she’d drop food to Maggie at the station and find her comforting a dark-skinned teenager in holding, Alex’s stomach always clenched at how they’d sob in relief seeing Maggie at the door. When guys at the pinball bar would come up to ask Maggie in 100 ways where she was really from, because she just looked too beautifully exotic not to ask, Maggie would send them away with a snarky “What, do you need an address? Get outta here”, before Alex could blink. Then, about a week after her big brother – who Alex didn’t know she had (“It’s complicated, Danvers”) – mailed her a box of home-made brigadeiros for her birthday, they were cuddling on the couch, Maggie tensing in her arms as the newsreader announced the shooting death of another Latino man by police, and Alex hadn’t known what to say while Maggie pulled out her phone to text Eddy with shaking hands. It wasn’t until after she received his reply that Alex saw her bite her trembling lip, trying to make it “whatever”, and held her close, close, close. And finally, Alex asked – about growing up Latina in Blue Springs, about what it felt like to be Latina now - all the while knowing she wasn’t prepared to hear the answers. I may not understand, but I’m here to help you heal, she’d reminded her, and Maggie had bowed her head, squeezed her hand tight while she tried to find the courage to speak aloud the thoughts she’d been too scared to tell her exes. Finally she said, barely audibly, “I don’t…really know what that means, anymore.” “What?” “To be Latina. To feel Latina.” Alex had nodded, but Alex didn’t understand. So she held, she waited, trusting that Maggie would go on. “You know what’s messed up?” Maggie muttered after a while, her eyes bleary with unshed tears. “When I was a kid, I was so embarrassed by my family, by my skin, my name, our food, our language. But now, I wish I could have that back. Even just to taste my mom’s cooking again.” “Maggie…” “It was a long time ago,” she said dismissively. “But when I was outed, I lost that culture. My parents… they told me I was turning my back on my heritage. That they made a mistake raising me here.” “Oh Maggie, that’s not true.” “I know. But for so long, it felt like they were right. The only Latin people I knew were my extended family, and they cut me off. My parents cancelled my quincenera, I couldn’t go to church anymore, my Aunt and I spent every holiday alone. The only time I felt Latina after that was when the white kids at school would give me hell. Or when my cousins would take me dancing.” “Dancing?” Alex probed, noticing Maggie’s first hint of a smile since they’d started the conversation. “Yeah,” she chuckled dryly. “When I was 17, we’d sneak out and drive a few towns over to my oldest cousin’s college. He and his friends would get a bunch of tequila and pump Spanish pop music all through the dorms and just go crazy. I’d never seen that many Latin kids ever in my life. But even when I got to college, part of me felt like I didn’t belong with them. I was embarrassed to speak Spanish because I was so rusty. When I’d watch them go home to spend holidays with their families, or hear them joking about their crazy superstitious abuelas, it hurt. And after what my parents said, I was so scared to tell them I was gay. But then I’d go over to the LGBT centre on campus and nobody looked like me. Nobody understood me. Some people straight up didn’t want me there. The white girls I dated didn’t get it. I always thought the community would be more mixed, more accepting – but it almost felt like school again. And it’s kind of just always been that way – since I moved up here I’ve drifted away from both of those communities. It’s just easier not to try.” “Maggie, I’m so sorry -” “Look, it is what it is. I’ve just got to do my own thing. Lucky I’ve got someone cute to do it all with, Danvers,” she quipped, tilting her head in a dry smirk and swigging her beer. Alex had let it go at the time, sensing that Maggie wanted to move on, but it felt as if Maggie had been told so many times that the world wasn’t built for women like her – that she couldn’t be Latina and lesbian, that she didn’t deserve to have either let alone both – that part of her had accepted it as truth.

From then on, Alex tried to let Maggie know she didn’t have to stifle herself like she had with other white women she’d dated. She started keeping tubs of dolce de leche in the fridge after she noticed stockpiles of it in Maggie’s, made more of an effort to invite Vasquez to Kara’s game nights, went to court with her on days off to support the wrongfully arrested kids of colour Maggie volunteered with at the National City Youth Legal Centre. There were endless internet visits for questions Alex was too embarrassed to ask, and Google Maps searches for where on earth her parents’ home towns were (Brazil and Argentina, apparently), and weekly checks of the new “QPOC in NatCity” Facebook page. It was there that Alex first heard that QBar was hosting its first ever Latin Night in a couple of weeks to raise funds for the Sylvia Rivera Law Project. She’d told Maggie to keep the night free, to dress sexy, that she’d pick her up and take her somewhere special. But now, heading over in the Uber, Alex’s palms sweat against the leather as she wonders if this will all backfire, if she’ll cause Maggie to clam up just when she was starting to let herself breathe. Because God, she’ll never forgive herself if this turns into Valentine’s Day: The Sequel. Any thoughts of this – any thoughts at all, for that matter – vanish as soon as she reaches her door, Maggie grinning cheekily knowing that she’s the reason Alex wore a skirt tonight. “Damn,” Maggie breathes, taking her in. “You really brought your A game, Danvers.” Alex laughs, shrugs. “I try.” When she kisses her, Maggie smiles against her mouth. “No more till your tell me where we’re going.” “Come on,” Alex groans, leaning into a giggling but evasive Maggie. “Just tell me.” “Not happening,” Alex asserts, pulling away with a smirk and starting to head down the steps. “You’re not that irresistible anyway. What, do you think you’re God’s gift to women or something?” “Wait, wait,” Maggie laughs, catching up to her to hold her hand on the way down, tugging Alex close for a deeper, sweeter kiss than their first. “And I am, by the way.” “What?” “God’s gift to women. Should know that by now, Danvers.” “Think you’re head’s gonna fit through the door tonight, Sawyer?” she jokes, giving her a playful nudge as they head for the car. But soon enough the nerves start creeping back, and she barely breathes the whole way to the club. When they step out, Alex feels Maggie still as she sees that the line is halfway down the block, and all she can hear is the crowd’s loud, vibrant bubble of Spanish and Portuguese and English over the Oi Oi Ois of ‘Danza Kuduro’ pumping out the door. “Alex…” “Maggie…” she teases back, grinning. But Alex’s smile falters, because Maggie still hasn’t moved – she can only look past Alex to scan the crowd again, again, as if they’ll disappear if she blinks, and God, there almost isn’t a single person who doesn’t look like her. “Alex, what is this?” Alex comes directly to her and takes her hand. Her touch is warm and smooth, and the tips of her fingers trace a light circle on Maggie’s palm. “The gay bar decided to hold a Latin Night. Apparently people have been asking them to start one for a while.” “There’s so many,” Maggie breathes, her lip trembles, and Alex squeezes her hand, wondering if she’s made a mistake. Alex has never seen her face like this. Not even when Eddy calls. She’s all soft. “I’m sorry, Maggie – I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. We don’t have to go in, I just thought -” “No, Alex, I just…” she starts to say, but she notices a dark-skinned butch woman in the crowd lovingly run a hand through her girlfriend’s hair right before she kisses her, and it snatches her by the lungs. Because Maggie realises she’s never seen queer Latina girls so openly in love before. Girls who could be both. Her head drops, her shoulders curl inward, and Alex brings her straight into her arms to press a kiss into her hair. Alex’s warm autumn jacket smells like rain, and Maggie swallows tears, but she doesn’t have to say anything. Because Alex knows – Alex can feel in the subtle tremble of her skin – that Maggie has never had a girlfriend think to research this before, never been in a crowd where she isn’t the only woman of colour or the only queer woman, never seen so many people who look like her and speak like her and dance like her and love like her. When she’s ready, she lifts her head to kiss Alex in equal measures of soft and hard, needing to show her how grateful she is, how loved Alex makes her feel, even when she doesn’t always understand. Alex’s hands anchor her, and Maggie clasps her neck, and leans into her heat, and just for a moment, the hurt is easy. “Thank you,” she breathes, and a tear tumbles down her cheek without permission, into Alex’s hand. “You deserve it, beautiful. You all do,” Alex responds, glancing around the crowd. And even though she catches herself feeling unusual being the odd one out – something she realises now that Maggie must feel every day – she too can’t help but smile at the groups of black and brown queer kids who are already dancing like crazy in the line, because clearly they’ve needed this just as much as Maggie. “Do you feel like going in?” “With a girl like you? How could I resist, Danvers?” Maggie teases, kissing her again before taking her hand to go wait in line. Finally, Alex starts to see her ease, shifting impatiently on her feet and trembling into every kiss. Alex tries to warm her in her arms as they wait, shielding her from the autumn air. But when they finally reach the door, Alex notices Maggie lower her eyes as security pat her down, as a burly man waves a metal detector over her clothes, because Orlando might be on the other side of the country but it’s never felt closer than it has this last year. Especially on Latin Night. But in the set of Maggie’s jaw, Alex sees determination, because she deserves to be here. She deserves to exist. And she’s going to dance – inviolable and free. It’s soon in the back of her mind as the music and crowd hit them in one rush, and instantly, without knowing anyone in the room, Maggie feels held. Safe. Home. Alex can’t take her eyes off the woman she loves – the way Maggie looks like she almost wants to cry again when the older drag queen scanning tickets calls her “mija”, how her eyes go wide when she recognises a classic she and her cousins danced to as teenagers, the way she beams the first time the bartender asks her - in Spanish - what she’d like. Maggie orders them caipirinhas, the first cocktail Alex has ever seen her drink. Her eyes roll back at the taste as she groans, “Thank God, I can never find places that make these right”, and all night through the sweat of the crowd, Alex savours the cool lime and sugarcane liquor on Maggie’s lips. The music has the packed club roaring with energetic, rolling beats and an echo of dancers singing along to every chorus – the Thursday night crowd putting Saturdays to shame. There are a few artists Alex recognises – her dancing coming a little easier when she hears some JLo or Daddy Yankee or Shakira from her pre-J’onn party girl days – but for the most part, this is Maggie’s world. When Alex doesn’t recognise half the English music, Maggie rattles off a list of QPOC rappers who Adrian’s obsessed with – Mykki Blanko, Le1f, Cakes da Killa, Angel Haze – and notes that as soon as he’s 21 she has to bring him to one of these. But the best songs are the ones Alex can’t understand. Because even though she’s forgotten all of her elementary school Spanish, and doesn’t understand a word of Portuguese, she can always tell when the lyrics of a song are getting particularly racy – because Maggie’s smile is slyer, her hips sway that extra few degrees further, her hands pray their way down Alex’s chest a little slower. And she can’t help but laugh along whenever Maggie throws her head back in a heady rush of laughter and exclaims, “God, this song is dirty” but refuses to tell Alex what the words mean. She’s never seen Maggie giggle into their kisses quite this much, look so giddy, so light, and Alex gets the sense that after all this time Maggie’s been making her feel like a kid again, she’s only just now getting to return the favour. But as the night goes on, and they’re dancing back to chest to a remix of Rihanna’s ‘Te Amo’, there’s nothing childish about what they do. With every drink, Maggie’s kisses taste of cool lime and white heat, every sway of her hips back into Alex’s making her think of all the unholiest things. And maybe wearing a skirt tonight was Alex’s best and worst idea ever, because soon enough they’ve gone from being that couple who takes yoga classes on Sundays to that couple making out against the wall of the club, Alex’s hands under Maggie’s halter top, nails dragging over her back. Maggie’s hand sneaking up her thigh in one breathless slide, stopping just shy of where Alex wants her most. Maggie smirking, living for the heat of her, for the rush of Alex’s whimper against her neck as she tries to arch off the wall into her hand. It’s a good thing that they call last drinks then, because neither woman knows how much longer they can keep themselves away from the other. They say goodbye to their new favourite bartender, Simón – a bright Venezuelan exchange student not much older than Adrian, glitter all through his hair - with one last round of caipirinhas and kisses on each cheek. Maggie leaves some scrawled Portuguese on a napkin for the staff – “Obrigada, QBar - este local é lindo! Um beijo!” – followed by a messy string of x’s and o’s. “God, I’m drunk,” she giggles, feeling her hand slide across the paper faster than her head. Then she turns to Alex, a breath away from her lips. “You should get me out of here.”

Alex smirks, keeps herself at a teasing distance. “I should, should I?” Maggie’s only response is to tug her closer, to begin building a staircase of open-mouthed kisses up her neck, and Alex loses focus, finds herself weak. Behind them, Simón groans in feigned frustration, “Ay, porque no buscan una habitación?”, causing Maggie to break from the kiss in a swell of laughter. Alex marvels at the way that she’s moved between three languages in thirty seconds, how young and free she looks when she laughs here, and feels her heart swell with a pride as intense as pain. For Maggie, stepping back onto the street feels like smashing a fist into an old wound, the heat of the club draining from her in a rush of blood to the toes. She clenches Alex’s hand in the Uber home, but finds she can’t look at her, focusing on the city lights skimming past the window. But Alex knows her, and she presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, whispers It’s OK darling, we’ll come back, I promise. Maggie nods, swallows tears, knows they’ll have to talk about this in the morning, but tonight – tonight – she just wants to love her. At the door of Alex’s apartment, Maggie’s hands do tender violence to her clothes, slowly tugging her to the bedroom, kissing her so fiercely and sweetly that Alex’s heart is left thundering in her chest, her belly, her bones. Every part of Alex surges to meet her, longing to be encased in the warmth and the smell and the taste of her. But she denies herself, laying Maggie down and telling her that this night is for her, all for her. Maggie can’t help but weep each time she comes, whimpering Alex’s name in a wet choke, not knowing how she found someone to love her this hard or why she deserved it. But Alex cradles her through it – peppers her cheeks with kisses and murmurs how much she loves her, loves her, loves her – her arms around her steady and unwavering. Afterwards, when Alex returns from the bathroom, Maggie is already asleep, naked and spent and tangled adorably in the sheets like she’s been rolling in them trying to find her. Alex runs a hand through her love’s hair – gently enough so she won’t wake up – wondering with her own wrecked past, with all her killings and unforgivable failures, what the hell she ever did to up so god damn lucky. Smiling a little to herself, Alex digs one of their ticket stubs out of her jacket on the floor and writes Te amo, princesa xxoo in the blank space. Tacks it to the wall by Maggie’s head, so it’ll be the first – well, maybe the second – thing she sees in the morning. So she’ll wake, and remember how it felt to dance surrounded by a love, a family, she’s always longed for but never found - that she’d never believed she deserved. So she’ll wake, and know it hadn’t been a dream.

#supergirl #sanvers #maggie sawyer #alex danvers #alex x maggie #supergirl fic #sanvers fic #backstory

166 notes · View notes