Tumgik
#when i was a kid my friends and i would chew up the bubble tape over time
camgirlkaminari · 1 year
Note
hey my friends and i are watching the bnha musical where kurogiri is basically shiggy's vape pen but with glowing eyes (in real he's a smoke machine we think) and we were wondering what flavour vape he is? i thought you would know the answer to this.
ok so first of all, SO glad you came to me with this. this is so important. initially, my first impulse was to say OBVIOUSLY since he is purble, he must taste like grape. but then i was like no that's too obvious. too simple. perhaps he is blackberry. or funnier, watermelon breeze. or whatever. but I can't choose there's so many hilarious flavors he could be. my man is the reanimated corpse of a seventeen year old who is in charge of a bunch of unhinged 20 somethings, perhaps he is whatever Slapple Menthol™ must be. or, considering this is shiggy smoking this man, perhaps he is a clove situation: no tobacco, all spice (all the sigma males smoke clove.) eventually, defeated, i had to consult my crack team of scientists (goof chat) on this matter and it was very much a consensus:
he purble. so he taste like
Tumblr media
32 notes · View notes
wroteclassicaly · 29 days
Text
18+
A/N: Small piece of filth, hope you enjoy ❤️
Tumblr media
“Driving me crazy. Don’t know why you do that.” Another bit of babbling you-speak, poured out in waves, interwoven through your whines and moans, Steve notes. Or rather, tries to, given the predicament of being on his back as you use him to your satisfaction.
You’d stared him down like he was prey for the last several months, always shaking your head, clicking your pen until it broke. Then there were the signs that made Steve realize, with a lopsided smirk (that only made it worse), that you weren’t in fact mad at him, not in a serious way anyways. Your hitch in breath every inch closer that he came to you, the way you melted into him if he just brushed by you, or how your legs would tighten, feet would bounce, to the way that you’d chew on your fingertip when he was bent over putting stock out and he knew exactly what you were looking at. When he talked about dates or flirted with girls that came in, you’d roll your eyes and be obnoxious in the background to sabotage unknowingly, but he found it endearing. And when he bought himself his new diamond chain to go with his mustard colored shirt for the fancy dinner in Indianapolis the older kids had all gone to, your public exasperation is partially what led to the moment.
It wasn’t until the following Monday that it exploded in full. Steve was at work on your shift, you were dealing with a sore wrist after his ensemble at Saturday’s excursion. And the stupid bastard had the nerve to wear that blinged out piece of jewelry beneath his button up, all black polo. You slammed a stack of video tapes down and had blew out a rough breath, working your way around the counter to ask Steve ‘what the fuck his problem was?’ And in truth, he’d worn the chain again just to gauge your reaction, before making his move. Sure, you’d been close friends all up in emotional arms for years, but the sexual tension was more alive than ever and could no longer be ignored.
With one hand on his waist, the other propped on the counter, he grinned lazily at you, fresh highlights looking perfect with his grown out tresses under the cheap lighting, jeans tight on his toned legs and perfect ass.
“Oh my god, Steve! You’re just… You’re —“
“I’m what?” He’d said, folding his arms to accentuate his biceps.
Your jaw had dropped rather comically and Steve is pretty sure you whimpered in defeat. You were caught.
“You know what you are, shithead. And I can’t take this shit anymore, it’s too much!” You’d gotten closer, talking with your hands. How Steve loves your hands. And you gave pause, brows pinched. “Wait, is that new cologne?”
Steve had pulled his shirt out to bare thicker chest hair, shrugging. “No, same ol’ stuff.”
“Can you stop, please?” You had sounded completely out of it, your pupils blown, leaving your beautiful eye color a thin ring, nearly transparent to the aroused abyss he’d created.
“Tell me what I’m doing, honey. Can’t stop if I don’t know…” Steve reached out with a finger, his confidence having greatly improved the last year within your friendship, and he traced down your cheek.
“Oh, shit.” Was all you could come up with.
With his thumb pressing at the corner of your mouth, massive hand cradling your jaw, he’d unraveled the knot with, “It’s okay if you say you want me, baby. Because I want you, too.”
~*~
Your hand looks small in comparison to his large girth, shining with what you’d slicked him up in, your babbling from before, slowly fading. His mossy orbs have shattered, their shards prickling you in an electrical stimulation, on you everywhere. His massive hands pinch your plush waist, every tendon visible on his jugular, his throat contracting around a harsh swallow as your fist around his base meets your body - seating him fully inside you. It hurts so bad that you welcome him to see the tears, see the glistening mess of your cunt spread open around his cock, cream bubbling in his base and smeared across his happy trail. You’ve never felt this before, this power, this safety, this want, this love.
Steve tosses his head back as your hips give an experimental rise and fall, sweat soaked backs of your knees feeling the pressure. He’s inside of you so deeply that you can barely move, his length dragging, pushing against every inch of your walls. You’re overcome in the moment and grab his big paws, curling his thick digits around your breasts and holding them together as you begin to roll your hips, never taking your eyes off him. He let out a moan that vibrates through you, his bed beginning to squeak beneath your rocking. His neck is visible again at this, scars beneath the chain, sweat glittering around and beneath the links, every freckle, every mole there, making him Steve.
Your movements have briefly slowed and he realizes, eyes open as you’re staring with this smirk. He gives your nipples a flick and releases, linking hands, to bring yours to his and kiss each knuckle he can get his mouth on. That’s when he’s flipping you with ease, knees sliding underneath your thighs, hands pinning yours to the bed as his nose finds your lashes, mouth planting his words across your lips; cinnamon breath spray, coffee, and cigarettes ghosting with each hot breath, “Don’t get too cocky, honey.”
On the break away, his chain sways forward, links getting caught on your lips. You take the jewelry into your mouth, sucking on the taste of the material, Steve’s chest tufts drag along your breasts as he fucks you on him with an ease so slow, that you can’t find cohesive speech for the rest of the night.
// Eat me paragraph //
Tumblr media
431 notes · View notes
lillian-nator · 3 years
Text
Wallflower AU (aka highschool au made w/ @bellfort3)
V i b e s - hanging on the roof; walking across train tracks; skipping school; Lakes, yes, something with lakes; something with different types of sodas. - My angsty teens are gonna have painted nails - Tommy bleaches his hair; Wilbur dyes his hair black - dramatic fuck. - Wilbur in eyeliner plz - Wilbur wears doc martens; black, yellow, maroon, silver shiny - Tommy's worn the same exact jean jacket for the past 5 years; it's 2 sizes bigger than he is; but he wears it every single day; it has fur on the inside; and its light washed with tears; the tears didn’t come like it; he's just ripped it over the years - He doesn't wash it very often, but he's glued patches on it, and Wilbur's drawn on it in sharpie. He just layers hoodies or flannels under it when it’s cold, but still wears it when it's hot - Tommy's also worn the same shoes for YEARS, they’re duct taped together at this point, they're white converse, they're not white anymore, and he's bleach-washed them SO many times that they permanently smell like chemicals. - The laces are frayed, so bad that he doesn’t even wear the laces most days. - Tommy doesn't shy from going in mud or water though, he'll wear the shoes to their fullest and then some. - I think you can tell by now, that Tommy just doesn’t come from a lot of money. - They live in a kind of run down town, very poor, old, smallish. - Wilbur is middle class, which is very well off in the area he lives in. - Wilbur gives off family disappointment vibes. Where he has to sneak out at night, Tommy can leave through his front door. - Wilbur calls Tommy “sunshine”, but very sarcastically since Tommy is a dick :) - Tommy has one of Wilbur's old beanies; it's black and monster branded, the monster logo is green - Wilbur gave it to Tommy 3 years ago, and Tommy never gave it back - btw Tommy's 17 and Wilbur's 19: Tommy's a junior and Wilbur's a senior - Wilbur only drinks Green Apple Monster - Tommy drinks sugar free redbull, but mostly only when Wilbur buys it for him, because Tommy usually doesn't have pocket change - Wilbur and Tommy bring speakers to the train tracks and dance and by that, its them jumping around and occasionally pushing someone over - Tommy uses his allowance to buy cigarettes; Wilbur vapes - both mentally ill - Wilbur is essentially the modern emo. He has this one yellow and black flannel that's oversized, and he wears it multiple times a week - it’s a problem.
- Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo - That’s the group. - I have just been talking about Tommy and Wilbur but they are the main characters so you can suck it. - A scene with Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo, at a lake, throwing each other in, and Tommy gets his shoes soaked, but he saves his jacket from the fall. Water gun fights, and they drink energy drinks and eat chips. they lay in the grass and contemplate life, Talk abt life yes. Abt existence. Abt how shit it is. Half of them have to wake up early and sneak home, the other half get to stay as long as they like. - Tommy tucks his t-shirts into his pants, which are always very baggy black jeans with just gigantic holes. - Tommy and Dream both have ADHD, however, Tommy's meds are purely from welfare, he cannot afford to give any out. Dream however? From an upper-middleclass family. Basically millionaires in this town. He can afford to lose some of his meds. - He yells in the clearing "COME GET YOUR DRUGS CHILDREN" - Besides, I've learned that there are like so many different ADHD meds, and maybe Tommy is just on something a lot stronger than adderall. He can't partake in the pill popping, but he doesn't mind. He does it every morning. - They don't do it often, maybe once a month, depends on how big Dream's prescription is - not that he regularly takes them like a good boy should - And I won't ever write this, but Gogy hangs out with them every so often, in which Gogy and Wilbur have an on and off again hooking up type relationship - whenever they hang out, Gogy like sits and Wilbur's lap and shit - Tommy and Punz GAG - "EW the fuck - get your hands off eachother. ITS GROSS - NO PDA IN MY BACKYARD"
- They hang out in an abandoned Building. But they don't try to fix it up. They're not fucking VSCO girls. They just want somewhere to hang out - If anything they make it worse - they fucking trash the place - It’s not intentional though - It’s like they can have fun without worrying abt the mess - just, sometimes they spill hawiian punch mixed with vodka everywhere - THEY GHOST HUNT AND OUIJA BOARD AND SHIT - They hang out in cemeteries too. they play manhunt in a cemetery, but like the regular version- like just hide and go seek in the dark. - they've done seances even though almost all of them are atheists - anyways the point of the fact is, is that half of them (excluding the minors you know) I'm looking at you Karl and Q - somethings going on between you two have made out with guys, and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, most modern like takes on religion do not take kindly to that
- they go to prom - and Dream somehow ends up with a ton of weed, because he had just turned old enough, and had the money - and they get fucking high OUT of their minds, like they're never doing it again - like, George and Wilbur definitely hooked up at Wilbur's house, which they aren't supposed to do - because Wilbur's parents will fucking flip that Wilbur is sleeping with a random person. No one is quite sure where SapNap ended up, and Tommy lost one of his shoes. In a panic, they spent the next 3 hours looking for it to find it at the lake by the school - Tommy fucking cradles it to his chest. -  (are wilburs parents homophobic?) (yes maybe a little side of homophobia) (Is wilbur bisexual or gay?) (he is ‘whoever the fuck looks bangable’) (fair enough) (he is ‘gogy my king’) (TRUUUE) - the bleachers - they hang out under the bleachers
- Gogy = Stylish stoner - very popular, but never not high - Karl is like the goody two-shoes of the group, doesn't skip class, and is on the principals list, however, he will NEVER back down from space brownies - its his weakness - Tubbo has a subway pass, and they do that thing where Tubbo swipes it and everyone fucking bolts into the subway, and they take all the trains at like 4am and just hang from the bars and shit - Wilbur still dresses relatively like, nicely and scholarly, which puts everyone off. He wears very loose sweaters with button-ups underneath. with khakis or black jeans and his docs - where his best friend, our Tommy, wears borderline yellow converse, and one bleached two-sizes-too-large jean jacket, and some second-hand-store hoodies, that are always a bit too worn in, but so, incredibly Tommy - Tommy who legit hasn't brushed his hair in years, not with a brush anyways - too frantic to brush his teeth most mornings. but always chewing gum; Tommy's always everywhere at once - ADHD meds only half-working on him, they couldn't afford the good shit - He'll never quite understand Dream handing out his adderall for free, Tommy would kill for the hard shit, but hey, he's never gonna stop his friends from having a good time
- Let's talk about Karl Jacobs - good ole' goody two shoes Jacobs - all of his teachers are constantly trying to get him to stop hanging out with Tommy and gang - every parent teacher conference is "we love your boy, but we are concerned about his friends" - Teachers have meetings with him, about how the people you surround yourself with can change your future - Karl's like, from the good side of town, plays first in the drumline, plays violin on the side, straight a's, clean-white-air-force-ones type of guy. Name brand clothes. Combed hair - Packed lunch every day from his mom; gets dropped off by his mom, kisses her goodbye; Mom is like very involved in school too - PTA parent - it's fucking good kid Jacobs - and he's sneaking off with fucking potheads to go to college parties and abandoned buildings - Does he do drugs? Well, he’s a big fan of treats if you know what I mean :wink wink: - ….you ever see Ted's video about a 500mg edible …. yeah. - big fan of gummy bears and brownies - Karl shows up to Parties and there are shouts of "Fuckin' goody-two-shoes Jacobs is HERE" - a lot of people make fun of him and think they can push him around - He seems like a softie; welcome mat type beat - but fucking watch this man chug 5 cups of whatever you give him, and then still win beer pong - Like his best friend is fucking quackity, he can do the hard shit - its very much a his parents have no clue who he actually is type beat - Look, his parents have no clue where he is ever - And if they even know he’s out, they don’t know where or with who - If his mom is at all involved in the school, she'll hear about Quackity, basically a drug dealer with how much hash weed he hands out on a daily basis. - Tommy has to be contained in order for the school to run smoothly, and Wilbur is a dramatic fuck that sleeps through most of his classes - Tommy has to take frequent breaks - They make him spend 3rd period in the principles office - Like he obviously needs help but he can’t afford it at all. Even the school can’t do anything for him bc he can’t get anything official for himself - like he can't even try to concentrate - He gave up so quickly in high school, bc they don’t have enough time or staff to help him - he tried in middle school - but man, did he give up in highschool - Yeah. He knows it is hopeless. Can't even afford college anyway. he'll just do whatever Wilbur does - here's an idea: Fucking Karl Jacobs showing up to school one morning just absolutely hammered out of his mind - Karl just showing up to first period AP Physics, and he's barely awake, honestly smells so much like weed and booze, and if he breathed anywhere near you, you could just feel the alcohol radiating from his breath - He's extra bubbly, laughs at everything - takes out his notebook to take some sort of notes, and just fucking giggles at the shapes and equations. He is very spacy, he clearly stayed up all night doing something very illegal; he gets up and jumps around. 2nd period band? oh boy - He gets sick at lunch bet - Like everyone got Drunk but Karl got FUCKED up - It was his birthday, bet - He took like 17 shots over the course of like 8 - 12ish hours, and I looked it up, despite karl being super scrawny and probably like 140 - 150ish pounds - which isn't a lot for being 5'11 - will not kill him - BECAUSE, you guessed it, he turned 17 - He didn't sleep, he was awake taking shots and just fucking who knows what until 6am when they stumbled to school - at lunch, 11:30 in the morning - he's head down on the table, miserable - he doesn't have a hangover yet, because it's only been a few hours, but man, is he nauseous - just the smell of food makes his stomach churn - and the thing about fucking Jacobs showing up drunk as hell - is that at least one of his teachers has called his mom about it - SHES PRESIDENT OF THE PTA FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE OF THEM KNOWS HER - And the teachers aren't stupid, Karl is so obviously drunk - generally Karl is pretty quiet in class; but now he has no distinction between hanging with hs friends and being in class - he's shouting and cracking jokes and is very tempted to kick his chair over - Anyways, Karl fucks himself over, end of story  - ONTO PUNZ’S RELGIEOUS TRAUMA WOOOOOOOOOOOO - It's Punz - fuckin' golden boy Punz; he plays football; and goes to church; and calls his mother "momma"; wears a nice church outfit; and is polite to the bible study mothers that come over on tuesday nights and gets them drinks - just a fuckin' golden boy - A religious family. Go to church every Sunday. Sunday school. Holidays. But. The kid just realizes that they don’t believe in god. Them telling the group like they’re high and he’s like “you know? Some of the shit that’s happened to us proves to me that god rlly isn’t real.” - and Punz like prays every day for Tommy's dad to get his job back; or for Gogy to get better parents; or for Karl to live the life he wants; and NOTHING EVER WORKS. THEY'RE ALL STILL FUCKED. - by the way we will get the the Tommy's dad losing his job later - But Punz's life is controlled by something he doesn't even believe in anymore - because he's still going to the like church breakfasts, and christmas service, and every sunday morning, and helping his mom's ladies bible study, and his parents are talking about sending him to a youth bible camp - - and he doesn't even think he believes in god anymore. - Punz kind of took out his own personal, religious, and family struggles out the way most teenage boys do. Drinking, and lots of sex. - SO I just imagined this like, really dramatic moment, where its the morning after Punz had a one night stand at some sort of party down the street, and he's long past saving his virginity for his wife, but he's buying her the morning after pill, which his church is just so against, and he has like the moment of, "if you do this, you're done." and he does it - he's had a couple of those moments, like, when he first had sex, and when he first smoked weed, or popped a pill, or snuck out at night, or skipped church - but that was the moment of "there is no going back" - like any type of drug or procedure that aborts an embryo, or that blocks fertilization thats already in process in like: the biggest no no in his church community - so once he stepped out of that drug store, he kind of took a breath, and just came to terms with it - "I'm an atheist." - Punz is the pastors son. - he's like, pre-commited to a catholic college - he’s in deep. - so when he first announces it to his friends, one really late night, "I think god might not be my thing." - they just start whistling and say "FINALLY, THE PASTORS SON HAS TURNED AROUND." - Dream just like turns over to him "how many chicks did you fuck to make you realize that?" - Tommy just slings his arm over Punz, "I'm glad you've quit the Jesus shit, Punz. Your better than it." - There’s gotta be this girl ok. He rlly rlly wants to have sex with her but he always backs out. The thing that breaks him. Is that he gets drunk and loses his virginity to someone who is not that girl - like, he likes this girl, and has a good connection with her, and she likes him, and he knows that its gonna be comepletly consentual, and she's like fucking beautiful right? - and she's the one he wants to loose it to and he's a stupid fucking idiot and loses it to some fucking random ass chick that doesn't even go to their school - This triggers a spiral. After that? He slowly starts giving less of a fuck abt everything. He fucked up the one thing you can’t do over and god he’s so painfully aware of it and so painfully aware that he didn’t even fuck up right. - You’re supposed to wait till marriage. Nope. You’re supposed to do it with someone you love and trust. Double nope. He. Fucked. Up. - its just like he wanted to do something bad. he wanted to fuck something up. he was questioning his faith, his like, great and sturdy and always-there faith for the first time, and what better way to test faith than to do something shitty and see what comes of it. and so he was planning and planning and planning how he was gonna do this terrible thing - which is such a good kid thing to do, to put so much thought into your own rebellion - but he wanted this to go perfectly. - Little Pastors Son, Punz, wasn't gonna wait till marriage. - He was gonna have sex with the girl of his dreams before they were even dating - but man did he like her. Did he want her. - And then he fucked some random girl when he was black out drunk. He's fucked everything up - he can't wash this away with confession - he's tainted. He's dirty. - He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize the heathen staring back. - He hates who he's become. - But he never goes back - he can't. He's dirty. He's wrong. - but the more he goes down the spiral - the more he realizes that one mistake shouldn't have made him feel like that - that if god was real, which he honestly wasn't sure in that department, he wouldn't want Punz to feel like the scum of the earth for doing something wrong. especially when he felt so bad after he did it. This system was fucked. He didn't want to be apart of another cycle - and he's just lying to himself every time he goes to church, and reads a cerse for his mom, and meets with younger kids at the church, and plays flag football with fucking church virgins who are good catholics and follow all their mommas orders - And every night when he says grace he means it less and less. he always does it when his momma asks, but boy does the lords word mean shit to him anymore From Ethan: - A turning point to the others in Punz's breakaway from Catholicism is like - He prays before he eats, usually. Sometimes they wait for him to finish his prayer before eating themselves, just out of politeness. He's a friend, he gets that shred of etiquette - And then one day he just doesn't. They got some fast food for a whole group dinner out at their hangout spot (a warehouse, did you say??) Tommy is staring at it intently but he waits for Punz to pray. Tubbo's already started eating but the rest wait - And Punz just starts eating - Dream nudges him, "No prayer, Pastor's boy?" - "No prayer," Punz mumbles into his food. "I'm trying something new." SO, TOMMYS DAD LOSING HIS JOB ARC W000000000 - it starts with Tommy showing up in a different jacket one day - like you have to understand, he's worn this jean jacket every single day for as long as WIlbur has known him, which is like 6 years - Like Tommy shows up in this giant, khaki work-jacket and it's his dads... - HIS DAD DIDNT DIE - his dad lost his job, which is essentially death to a family who already couldn't sustain themselves - and Tommy shows up to school, face pale and cheeks sunk in and there are visible bags under his eyes - and Wilbur just rushes over immediately and hugs him so tight to his chest - and Tommy just sobs, "pops lost his job -" gasp "I can't - we can't pay the bills this month. everything - its all falling apart Will." - "Hey - hey. Stop. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be okay. You always are dude." - Tommy does have to get a job - and he probably does drop out of school unofficially, like he just stops going. - he sleeps during the morning classes, and heads into work at 10am - he's a carpenters assistant. it pays well as they need young, able men. but most of the younger citizens in the town go to school - he has to take the day shift because the day shift pays better - he doesn't mind it, he doesn't - it gives him the opportunity to get all of his energy out; but he misses going to school. as much as he hated it, he misses his friends. - and lets be honest, its hard as fuck for his dad to find a new job, he doesn't have a great resume - he didn't graduate from highschool. and he isn;t in top health condition, he definitely doesn't have health insurance - so Tommys stuck with this job for a long time - his dad uses his last paycheck to buy Tommy workboots so tommy feels in debt to him - He’ll get his GED eventually. - I think - The like religious status of the rest of the group brought to you by me - Everyone who I don’t mention is just a hard atheist - Karl and Wilbur are catholic, but to a lesser extent, Wilbur doesn't really go through with lent, and Karl only sometimes does. They go to a different church and go pretty much on holidays only, a sunday a month maybe. - SapNap goes to Punz's church, they've been friends for years. - He goes to sunday school but misses a lot of sermons because of his siblings sports games. - He is involved, but not to the way Punz is - SapNap's mother is in fact in Punz's moms bible group - Punz sometimes doesnt attend the bible group and Sap's mother is all "now you tell that pastor's boy to actually attend next time, got it?" and Sapnap dies a little on the inside - And George is an orthodox christian, but he's pretty much quit due to the blatant homophobia he's seen at his church. 
AND NOW ON WILBUR SOOT AND KARL JACOBS AND BARKING - Wilbur has siblings, fun fact - that we will never talk about or address - but definitely nothing like Wilbur, more the Karl Jacobs type - Wilbur is the oldest. he's always lectured about being 'a good influence on your brother and sister.' - They’re big sports kids. Softball and Basketball (tall genes). Straight Bs; Bed by 10pm; Have never missed school - Parents pride and joy :) - Just good suburban kids, Have friends next door, help the neighbors, attend the cul-de-sac barbecues. - Basically who Wilbur used to be up until highschool (until Wilbur met weed and a good group of stoners) - Sure he was a disappointment and he had no clue what to do with his life - But he was happier - Never really liked being the goody- two-shoes boy next door, he doesn't know how karl does it “Playing good boy like a dog” - Also he used dog terms around Karl - Because he’s “Playing good boy like a dog” - He’ll throw Karl a beer and smile “go fetch” - He laughs so hard when he sees Karl be good in a class or play it up for his parents; Because Wilbur’s so past trying - Wilbur will walk by and just bark at karl. Bet. Just Growls lowly; Walks in a  circle; Anything to make Karl’s parents (or Wilbur’s own) stare at him and scurry away - Karl’s parents push Karl forward and like hold their younger kids close to their chest, whispering “keep close, don’t look at him” - They tell Karl to stay away from kids like him. - And boy do Wilbur’s pa#rents hate it, They push him along and whisper yell at him As he throws his head back and cackles - I mean imagine, like a stereotypical middle class suburban family: House wife, blue collared father, Two kids; in sports jerseys, Girl in braids, boy in khakis - And then there’s Wilbur: Doc Martins, black jeans, collar and sweater, beanie. Definitely high on something - Chains LOTS OF CHAINS - And he's Barking. Fucking Barking At the nice family down the street - And then he takes out his vape right in front of his parents and silently offers Karl a hit with a smirk - Cause Karl’s too busy playing good boy - And as Karl’s family looks back, as Wilbur is corralled by his mom - He flips them off with the biggest smirk uou will ever see - Wilbur's kind of an ass - And Karl really wants a hit of that vape.
92 notes · View notes
rodeoxqueen · 3 years
Text
Rodeo’s Devil May Cry Roster
Last Updated: Feb 22th, 2021 (All Works Accounted For)
It ain’t much but it’s honest work. If you liked it and you want to, feel free to give your local cowboy a tip on Ko-Fi. 
Enjoy yourselves, my darling Lone Rangers wandering the earth. 
-Rodeo
Tumblr media
Headcanons
Dante 
Dante As A Dad
If Dante Had A TikTok
Tickling Dante and Vergil 
Why Vergil Sleeps With An Eye Mask
The Sparda Twins Dying For Each Other (ANGST)
Dates With Dante Before and During A Relationship
How Nico, Nero, and Dante Would Handle Anti-Maskers
Dante and Vergil With A Delinquent Child
Dante and Vergil's Favorite Types Of Intimacy 
Kissing Dante and Vergil All Over Their Faces
Dante, Vergil, and Lady Cuddling Their Male S/O 
Dante Sleeping Over With His S/O For The First Time
Dante and Vergil Being Bridal-Carried In Public By S/O 
Dante and Vergil Joining Their S/O’s Skin Care Regime
Dante and Vergil Having Disagreements With Their S/O
Dante and Vergil With A Sympathetic Demon Hunter S/O 
Dante and Vergil With a Black!Half-Demonic!Angel-like!S/O
Dante and Vergil Falling In Love With A S/O Who Is Nero's Age
NSFW
SDT!Dante (NSFW)
Dante and Vergil: Giving Their Male S/O Oral Sex (NSFW)
Dante and Vergil: Spanking As Foreplay, Giving and Receiving (NSFW) 
Dante and Vergil Having SDT!Sex With A Devil-Triggered! AFAB! S/O (NSFW)
Vergil 
Vergil As An Uncle
Vergil As A Grandfather 
Tickling Dante and Vergil
Vergil During Thanksgiving 
Insults Vergil Have Thrown At Dante
Why Vergil Sleeps With An Eye Mask
Dante and Vergil With A Delinquent Child
Vergil Owns A Vinyl Collection: A Concept 
The Sparda Twins Dying For Each Other (ANGST)
Vergil Fighting His Power Obsessed Daughter (ANGST, TW: DEATH)
Dante and Vergil's Favorite Types Of Intimacy 
Kissing Dante and Vergil All Over Their Faces
Dante, Vergil, and Lady Cuddling Their Male S/O
Vergil and V with a S/O Who Can Summon A Persona
Dante and Vergil Being Bridal-Carried In Public By S/O
Dante and Vergil Joining Their S/O’s Skin Care Regime
Dante and Vergil Having Disagreements With Their S/O
Dante and Vergil With A Sympathetic Demon Hunter S/O
Dante and Vergil With a Black!Half-Demonic!Angel-like!S/O
Dante and Vergil When Nero And Their S/O Can't Get Along
Dante and Vergil Falling In Love With A S/O Who Is Nero's Age 
NSFW
SDT! Vergil (NSFW)
Dante and Vergil: Giving Their Male S/O Oral Sex (NSFW)
Dante and Vergil: Spanking As Foreplay, Giving and Receiving (NSFW)
What Dante, Trish, and Vergil Do When They Want To Get Intimate With Their S/O (NSFW)
Dante and Vergil Having SDT!Sex With A Devil-Triggered! AFAB! S/O (NSFW)
Vergil and V with a S/O Who Can Summon A Persona
Dante, Vergil, and V
Personality Traits The DMC Boys Fall For
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Nephil! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Trans! FTM!S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With Their Dhampir! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With Their FBI Agent! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Thick-Thighed S/O 
Dante, Vergil, and V With Cosplay Hobbyist! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Strong & Badass S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Wonder Woman! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Badass But Lazy! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With Their Authorities Angel! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Part-Time Pro-Cosplayer! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Strong And Very Closed Off! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O With Scarlet Witch’s Powers
Dante, Vergil, and V Watching One Piece With Their Male S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V  Being “Jet-Pack Cuddled” By A Short!S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With An Amnesiac! S/O That Still Loves Them
What Would Dante, Vergil, and V Do If Someone Made Their S/O Cry
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Physically Weak But Intellectually Badass! S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O With Muscle Twitches Due To Antidepressants 
Dante, Vergil, and V Playing the Pocky Game
Dante, Vergil, and V Getting Their Hair Stroked
Dante, Vergil, and V Taking Care Of Stray Animals
Gifts Dante, Vergil, and V Would Give To Their S/O
Dante, Vergil, and V Taking Care Of Their Baby Daughter
Dante, Vergil, and V Going To Their Kid’s Volleyball Tournament
Dante, Vergil, and V Taking Their Children To The Amusement Park 
Dante, Vergil, V, and Nero’s Favorite Traditional Chinese and Japanese Foods and Drinks
(Dante, Vergil, and Nero On The Maury Show)
PART I
PART II
PART III
NSFW
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Virgin! S/O (NSFW)
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Thick-Thighed S/O (NSFW)  
Dante, Vergil, and V With A Friend With Benefits (NSFW)
Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O That’s Always Horny (NSFW)
Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O With Small Boobs (NSFW-ish)
Dante, Vergil, and V Doing The 69 Position With A Timid!S/O (NSFW)
Dante, Vergil, and V Catching Their S/O Touching Themselves (NSFW)
Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O That Likes Being Called Kitten (NSFW)
What Dante, Trish, and Vergil Do When They Want To Get Intimate With Their S/O (NSFW)
Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O That Blurts Out They Masturbated To The Thought Of Them (NFSW)
Nero 
Ticking Nero
Raising Nero As His Mother
Being Best Friends With Nero
Nero and Chewing Gum: A Concept
Poly! Nero, Kyrie, And Male S/O Relationship
How Nero Might Become Evil: A Pysch-Analysis
Nico And Nero’s Friendship (Knife Brother Requested!)
How Nico, Nero, and Dante Would Handle Anti-Maskers 
Nero With A Black! Half-Demonic! Angel-like! Best Friend
Dante, Vergil, V, and Nero’s Favorite Traditional Chinese and Japanese Foods and Drinks
Lady
Dante, Vergil, and Lady Cuddling Their Male S/O
Trish 
What Dante, Trish, and Vergil Do When They Want To Get Intimate With Their S/O (NSFW)
Nico 
Nico And Nero’s Friendship (Knife Brother Requested!) 
How Nico, Nero, and Dante Would Handle Anti-Maskers 
Fully Written Works 
Dante 
Stuck Thinking About You
Summary:  Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end?
A For Apple, Or A For IKEA?
Summary: In which Vergil goes to IKEA with Dante to get a new table. But at what cost?
Don’t Leave Baby In The Corner
Summary: Dante and you talk about wanting kids or not while waiting for the pregnancy test.
Nothing Hurts When I’m With You
Summary: With Dante hurt from a demonic attack, the two of you seek shelter and each other's warm company in a cave.
草莓珍珠奶茶-Strawberry Pearl Milk Tea
Summary: You take Dante out for his first bubble tea experience.
Somebody Else’s; Nobody’s (ANGST)
Summary: Dante hates to think about you with somebody else, yet he still says no to your love. Guess he's just a coward, and now he's picturing your body with somebody else.
NSFW
Velvet Devotion (NSFW)
Summary: You don't know what you do to him. How you hold onto him in the dead of night, nails raking his skin. How he feels held by you. On velvet sheets, he finds he is worshipped with the softest of affections.
Vergil 
Of Lacking Specatcle(s)
Summary: Vergil is a lot of things. Vergil is the Dark Slayer, The Alpha and The Omega, and the eldest son of Sparda. Vergil is also….in need of glasses?
Knock-Off Ring Franchise
Summary: Vergil and Dante leave Vergil’s S/O in the shop with a TV and a strange VCR tape. Drama ensues.
Stuck Thinking About You 
Summary: Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end? 
A For Apple, Or A For IKEA?
Summary: In which Vergil goes to IKEA with Dante to get a new table. But at what cost?
NSFW
The Passion In Rivalry (V/Reader/Vergil)(NSFW)  
Summary: Vergil separating V from himself with Yamato. Threesome with reader ensues.
Do I Want To Know, Do You Feel Held By Me?(NSFW)
Summary:  All in all, Vergil is a tempered blade. Plunged into heat and left to the cold, he is only perfected with each night you come to his room.
He Wanted War, She Wanted Peace; In Pieces, They Collide(NSFW)(ANGST)
Summary: She pursued him, the demon in a human shell. Their time together meant no good, a match to silk and feathers, devastation imminent.
V
TikTok Stardom
Summary:  V and Y/N try to survive the four attempts Dante takes to be TikTok famous, one of the TikToks surprisingly working out in the end.
TIkTok Stardom II: The Lovers Strike Back
Summary:  Dante challenges (Y/N) to make a better TikTok than him, not knowing the secret weapon has a cane, secret dance skills, and an ever-present smirk on his face.
Verona Serenade
Summary: V takes you out on a date, and it’s poetry as always.
i died, and was born in the spring; i found you, and loved you, again
Summary: After a loss, comes the regrowth of roots once thought destroyed by the tides of time. A story in which V kisses you softly and Vergil holds onto you tightly.
NSFW
O Tempter, O The Sea (NSFW)
Summary: You cry out for the sea, yet you do not expect an answer back.
~Sweet Erotic Angel Baby~ (NSFW)
Summary: There is vitality in vulnerability. Even in your soft kisses, there is something with a bite that he craves to feel.
The Passion In Rivalry (V/Reader/Vergil)(NSFW)  
Summary: Vergil separating V from himself with Yamato. Threesome with reader ensues.
Nico
Heartline Driver, Front Seat Lover
Summary: At the end of a road trip begins a new path for you and Nico. But first, you have to turn on the ignition.
Series
Devil May Grind: Magic Mike! AU
Dante/Reader
Series Summary:  From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.
PART I- Can You Touch This?(AFAB) (NSFWish)
Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you'd never expect: a male strip club. And what you'd also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.
Vergil 
{KEEP AN EYE OVER YONDER}
V
{KEEP AN EYE OVER YONDER}
Keeping Up With A Himbo
ALL OF THE SPARDA BOYS
Series Summary: A series of domestically fluffy snippets where the s/o of a Sparda learns just how much of a himbo their lover is.
Dante (I)- Change Of Hands
Vergil (I)- Lost In The Sauce
AWAS
Dante/Reader/Vergil (NO SPARDACEST)
Series Summary: Dante and Vergil meet a mysterious and powerful being with a painful past and an even deadlier endgame.
(AWAS Has A Separate Masterlist)
Please Let This Cowboy Know If She’s Missed Any Of Your Favorites. She Ain’t Too Good At Book-Keeping. 
236 notes · View notes
daisies-write · 3 years
Text
And he said “nope” - Part 2
Deal with the Devil
Hisoka x weak!reader; soulmate AU
Ok so we decided to go with a light and fun story! I suppose it isn’t what’s expected of a Hisoka x reader but with Ari we had so much fun imagining different scenarios where both are forced to work together, it just started to take life on it’s own! I hope it won’t be disapointing for you and that you’ll like this serie as much as we do! @kuuredere​
-Yasu
Previous chapter / Next chapter
TW: none
Writer: Both of us ! (Ari and Yasu)
Word count: 1965
Tumblr media
    This is how your "contract" began with Hisoka, with one simple deal: to continue with your life without being disturbing each other, as if you two never met. You would never work together anyway. You had morals and Hisoka was… Hisoka.
    But strangely, since then your life had seemed to take an ominous decline and you were starting to wonder if the Universe had something to do with it. Too much had happened in too little time: losing your car, having your apartment infested with cockroaches, and finding out that your partner might be having an affair. Well… it couldn't be worse, after all.
    " You are fired. "
Ah. It could, actually.
    You were sitting on a bench somewhere in a park, with a big box full of your things lying at your feet, trying somehow to reach your partner on the phone. After the fifth call, you gave up. They must have been busy ...
    You clapped your hands over your eyes, sighing loudly, twisting in your head everything you could do to find a job that paid as well as your last but there were very few options and the remaining ones didn't appeal to you one bit. You weren't desperate enough to striptease yet, that's for sure, and going back to babysitting was a big no.
    "Maybe they were right in the end," you mumbled in your despair. “I'm not meant to be a Hunter and I'm not made for the big city.” A sad chuckle escaped your lips. “A real little peasant, haha. "
    As if trying to mock you, the sun and the sky were extremely bright that day. Or maybe it was to support you...
    " Well! I got this! I will not be discouraged for so little! "
    You got up on your feet, determined, and then sat down again almost instantly.
    "I have nowhere to sleep."
    You expressed yourself with yet another long sigh. If only you hadn’t met this Hisoka, if only you hadn’t gone to see that damn battle at Heaven Arenas with your friends, if only you had said no, your life surely would have just as chill, like it used to. Seeing in color was fun but not necessary.
    "I don't like pink," you thought as you saw a kid make a big bubble with his chewing gum.
    "My, it looks like my kitten is doing badly ~," said a voice you recognized all too well.
    Slowly turning your head to the side, you could finally confirm your fears: Hisoka was looking at you with a big smile, a hand on his cheek and mocking eyes.
    "Hey, Satan," you answered instinctively.
    He laughs at your words.
    "I’m pretty sure I’m even worse, but thank you nonetheless."
    “Go away. I don’t have time to mess with you. And like, don’t you have a fight today?”
    Hisoka shrugged.
    “The guy isn’t worth my time, that’s all.”
    “So you thought about stalking me?”
    “I thought about watching children play but I found you like you would find a wart,” he said nonchalantly.
    You just started at him, genuinely creeped out.
    “Get out of here, pedo.”
    He laughed again.
    “Make me.”
     “The sexual innuendo of this sentence is way too big so you better stop using it unless if you want to bang me,” you said, unphased. “But there’s a hint: you ugly.”
    “Wow!” Hisoka placed a hand to his heart, a pout on his face. “You didn’t seem quite so aggressive last time. Something bad happened?” His eyes found your box and his smirk came back. “Fired?”
    You said nothing, but the displeased expression gave him confirmation.
    “Your fault.”
    “How’s that? Oh, let me guess,” his finger taping his lips in the most frustrating exagerration of his excessively dramatic self. “You couldn’t stop thinking about me and got distracted from your work, so of course, your boss told you to never come back because of your  uselesness. Tragic love story!” He sighed. “But then again, who could resist me? I feel sympathetic for you. <3″
    Your disgust grew just at the thought of being in love with Hisoka. He annoyed more you at every word he spoke, at every breath he took but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing this. You prefered playing his game and use your sarcasm to counter his and perhaps, distract yourself from your harsh reality.
    “Well, if you’re so sympathetic, you could buy me a house-”
    “Nope, <3″
You tried, at least!
    “My apartment have been infested with cockroaches, so honestly, I really need a house. If you know a place, tell me.”
Hisoka eyed you for a second.
     “Are you really unclean to the point of having cockroaches in your whole apartment?”
    “What ? NO!” you yelled.
He just laughed again, shoting his head back. You bite your lower lips in embarassment as you saw the eyes of everyone else in proximity glaring at you. Your cheeks burned in fluster.You’ve been too loud.
    “I have an idea!” you said to Hisoka after chacking your burning face away. “We could swap houses! That way, you could live with your family!”
His laugh died and he looked at you, pleased that you started playing with him.
   “They said they missed you, you know? That you shouldn’t have run off and left them without saying anything,” you continued.
   “I,” started Hisoka through a shit eating grin, “hate you so much and I urge to kill you but it would be no fun with you.”
    “I think one of your brothers at my house is called Steve. Steve really, really misses you.” You smiled. “I feel like you two were very close.”
    You liked insisting on each and every word of your sentence.
    “Impossible. I’m too sexy to be related to Steve.”
    “You’re sure? I thought you were twins. I could barely tell you apart!” Your voice sounded more and more amused with each syllable leaving your mouth. It felt so natural. “Wow.”
    Honeslty, playful bander with Hisoka was fun. A real game, a match one of you had to win; he was never phased by any of your words so you kept sending sly insults back and forth in this oddly lively and convivial disgust you shared for each other.
    Unfortunatly, everything must come to an end, right? You stopped quick in your teasing when you saw a familiar number appearing on your phone. Your smile vanished in less than a second and the atmosphere wasn’t so light anymore. Your partner was calling you, but in all honesty, you didn’t want to answer now. Or more like you didn’t have the heart to. 
    Hisoka raised one eyebrow.
    “Lover?”
    “I guess.. They’ve been cheating for a while, so no, not really anymore,” you said, trying your best to seem nonchalant about it.
    “And you’re okay with that? You don’t seem like the type who’d have an open relationship.” His voice sounded like he took great joy in your suffering.
    “Well, they found their soulmate. I know them,” you gulped. “I know them more than I know myself. It’s been hard on them and they aren’t ready to talk about it but I’m aware of what they’re doing at night. I saw their messages by accident.” You shrugged. “I’m only waiting for when they feel like it’s time.”
You stared at the number until it disappeared.
    “Liar.”
You looked over to Hisoka again, slightly disoriented.
    “You can dump them since you found your own soulmate.The break-up wouldn’t be so hard on them if they knew this.” He chuckled. “You’re just slowing down the inevitable fate of your couple. You don’t want to be alone and that’s all there is to know.”
    You glared at him, now. Your heart was beating loudly against your chest, in pure anger. How could he read through you so easily? You didn’t like that one bit and you were disappointed in yourself for oversharing. He’s your soulmate, yes, but he’s still Hisoka.
“Please. Not now.”
“Sucks to be you, love.”
    An awkward silence fall upon you both, or at least upon you. While you were frantically texting your best friend to ask for a place to stay, only to be met with a lenghty apology, you searched for other ways to find a place to sleep tonight. The motel rooms prices were way too high and you didn’t know how long you’d need to stay, nor how much it’ll cost to have your appartment clean again. You couldn’t face your partner and you were too ashamed to call your family. Your pride would end you but you prefered sleeping in the streets than having them look at you disapprovingly. Your whole world was falling apart and you blamed it all on Hisoka. And yet...
    Hisoka’s eyes didn’t leave your figure. His mind was racing and it seemed like it was the only thing it did since he met you. He didn’t speak when he saw you frown and sigh and type desesperatly on your phone, swipping through your contacts, hesitating over a room price, checking over and over again if anyone could help you. His mind was still racing when he told you:
    “I guess you can come to my place for a while.”
    You were utterly speechless and goggled at him for a few seconds. It isn’t like Hisoka at all to propose help. He had something in mind, you knew as much, but you couldn’t help but feel floored.
    “Who are you and what the heck did you do to my soulmate-?”
    “Awww, you refer to me as your soulmate, that’s adorable.”
    “ANSWER-” Honestly, you didn’t care about the volume of your voice at this point. You were too shocked. 
    Hisoka just laughed it off and looked at you, openly condescending and still smiling. Does he ever stop doing so ?
    “I will have to take on a mission so I won’t be at Heaven Arenas for a while.” He pointed at you. “You can take my room there while I’m gone.”
You were too confused.
    “But why? You gain nothing by doing this!” You frowned and wrapped your hands protectively against your body. “I won’t have sex with you!”
    “Don’t worry, I’d rather die,” he rolled his eyes. “I let you take my room because whatever happens to you if you sleep on a bench in the parc happens to me as well. And even if I’m pretty sure I can manage, I don’t want to wake up in the morning with a hole in my belly. You got it, darling?” 
    “Wait, what do you mean everything that happens to-’
But he didn’t let you finish your sentence: he took your box and walked away without giving you any other explanation.
    “Hisoka, wait!”
    Well, at least you got a rather interesting piece of informations. You didn’t know everything about soulmates but you sure knew that even if you were linked by fate, Hisoka wouldn’t do this without solid motives. Everything about him screamed to you to never trust him but you needed your box and you needed a roof over your head. You wouldn’t let your guard down for now. You probably couldn’t beat him in a fight but he didn’t seem like he’d kill you so that was already a good point.
    You made a mental note to look more deeply into all of this and untangle the mystery of his help and quickly followed your jerk soulmate. 
    “I said wait, asshole!”
    “What, miss me already? Do you want a goodbye kiss?”
    “Don’t say such repulsive things,” you replied, gagging. “I’ll need the room’s key.”
    “Here,” he tosses it to you before adding “just don’t go looking around my stuff too much~”
This was going to be... interesting.
181 notes · View notes
nour386 · 3 years
Text
Meeting the not Heroic Family
My submission for @pinesconessecrets as the santa of @mothmanfactkin, His prompts included super hero au and awkward dinner. So I combined them together into one massive fic. I hope you enjoy this because I enjoyed writing this. (Also on Ao3!)
"Dipper, I'm not sure about this," Wirt tightened his grip on his boyfriend's hand.
"It'll be fine!" Dipper awkwardly bumped Wirt with his elbow. "They don't need to know that I'm dating the legendary 'Spirit of the Plants'."
"Dipper this is serious." Wirt said. "If your Uncle is half as smart as you say he is, he should be able to figure out my identity in an instant."
"Don't worry about that, we have your cover story remember?" Dipper grinned, "a humble library part timer fresh out of college, looking for work. It'd cover most of our bases."
Wirt didn't look convinced. He bit his lip and looked away. His mind raced with all the ways this evening could go wrong. A villain somehow reconsigning him, and attacking them through the window. A giant monster bursting through the ceiling, crushing everyone and splattering the walls with their blood. Or worst of all, his boyfriend's uncles deciding that he was a bad influence. Cutting his time with Dipper short.
"Hey, look at me." Dipper pinched Wirt's cheek making the lanky man wince.
"What was that for?" Wirt rubbed his cheek.
"You were doing that thing where you panic and over think everything and worry that the end of the world will come about because you dropped a spoon." Dipper rolled his hand as he spoke.
"There was no apocalypse this time." Wirt said in a small voice.
"That's not the point Pilgrim." Dipper sighed. He placed both his hands on Wirt’s shoulders. "I know you're worried, and in truth, I am a little as well; but nothing helpful is going to come from sitting here and stewing in our sweat. Let's go take this thing down together."
Wirt took a deep breath, and let himself be held by Dipper. The weight of his hands on his shoulders helped ground the young man. He looked into his boyfriend’s eyes and gave a small smile. 
“I think. I'll be fine.” Wirt said slowly.
“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Dipper smiled.
The pair made their way down the long walk up to the mystery shack. Normally Dipper would have insisted on flying the pair over, but decided that letting Wirt get excited over the natural beauty of Gravity Falls might help him calm down enough to face his uncles. That judgement worked out swimmingly in his favour as Wirt awkwardly asked to stop every few minutes to observe some flower or shrub that he didn’t quite recognise. 
“I know you said the town was bustling with the unknown, I didn’t think that would include plants.” Wirt carefully touched the leaf of a shrub. 
“Is a small bush that impressive?” Dipper squated next to Wirt to observe the plant. The stem looked like it was covered in red polka dots. 
“Look! This shrub adapted its stem to look like it's covered in red ants to avoid being eaten!” Wirt said in an excited voice. He gave the leaf at the tip of the stem a small poke and gave a small twitter of delight as the stem curled up perfectly to make the polka dots look even larger. 
“Huh, I never noticed that.” Dipper taped his chin.
“Probably because you spent the better part of your time running for your life.” Wirt tapped a nearby tree. A sturdy branch grew out, just high enough along the trunk to help him stand up without groaning. “Thank you.” He whispered to the tree.
“You know, for a superhero you sure do use your powers haphazardly.” Dipper teased. He stood up, and led the way to the shack.
“You’re just jealous that your yearbook photo this year was captioned ‘plant killer’.” Wirt smirked,   following Dipper along the path.
“I told all of our friends to not get me house plants as gifts. But they never listen.” Dipper threw up his hands in exasperation. “I can hardly take care of myself. You think I can take care of a plant?”
“Thank your lucky stars that I didn’t decide to incarcerate you for crimes against greenery.” Wirt said.
“That’s not a thing and you know it Mr.’Hero’.” Dipper punched Wirt’s arm.
“Well it might be!” Wirt shot back. “And now the charge has changed to battery.”
“Oh no. how could you have stopped my dastardly crimes.” Dipper rolled his eyes.
“Who’s talking about crime?” came a gruff voice.
The pair looked ahead to find an older looking man. Greying hair that lay flat on his head, a red nose and square jaw. He wore a serious expression, his face behind his square glasses was twisted into a serious scowl as he looked at the two young men. 
“I-uh no-one Sir.” Wirt squeaked. 
Dipper on the other hand rolled his eyes. “Why? You want a cut of the goods?” “You’re damn right.” The old man smirked. 
“I wha-” Wirt looked between them.
“Are you sure you’d want to be associated with horrible criminals like us?” Dipper asked. “Wouldn’t want the press to find out and cause another scandal.”
“Those paparazzi cronies will swarm after anything. It’ll blow over in less than a day.” The old man chuckled.
“What?” Wirt tilted his head.
Dipper grinned. “Wirt, this is my Great uncle Stan, retired hero and ever active conman.” 
“Hero?” Wirt stared at the man. His mind raced to put a mask to the face.
“Autographs cost 50 and pictures with me are 100.” Stan gave a showman’s grin. “Keep in mind that those prices are mutually exclusive.”
“And if you want him in costume you’d be footing the tailor’s bill.” Dipper elbowed Wirt.
“Wait, who were you?” Wirt asked.
“Who was I? Who was I?” Stan looked as though he had the wind knocked out of him. “What kind of cave dweller did you bring to my house?”
Dipper rolled his eyes at Stan’s theatrics. He was well used to his uncle’s inflated ego about his hero career. Wirt on the other hand found difficulty picking up on Stan’s very subtle hints at playing a bit. He felt his stomach sink to his feet as the man’s voice grew in volume, his life flashing before his eyes as he tried to figure out which hero this angry looking man could have been. 
“Grunkle Stan, tone it down, you’re going to give him a heart attack.” Came a sweet as sugar voice from inside the shack. A young lady with her hair done in a long braid opened the mesh door and punched Stan in the arm. Aside from rosy cheeks and the lack of a beard, her face was identical to Dipper’s. It didn’t take long for Wirt to recognise his boyfriend’s twin sister, Mabel. 
She turned to Wirt and gave a warming smile. “Sorry about this old grump. He thinks his comedy routine should double as a horror show.” 
“It’s only horror if they’re too sensitive.” Stan rubbed his arm. 
“You promised Dipper you’d play nice while Wirt was visiting.” she crossed her arms.
“I also promised your uncle Shermie that I wouldn’t let you do any hero work while staying over. And look how that turned out.” Stan rolled his eyes.
“Stopping someone from stealing a car isn’t hero work.” Mabel shot back. 
“Sorry about Stan,” Dipper muttered under his breath. “He’s just jealous that his hero career was cut.” 
“Jealous?” Wirt stared at Dipper. “You said you didn’t tell them anything”
“He’s jealous of your youthfulness” Dipper squeezed Wirt’s shoulder. He leaned in close to whisper into his ear. “I haven’t told them a thing, I promise.”
“So he’s not mad?” Wirt clarified. 
“Nope, just a really bad comedian.” Dipper smiled.
Wirt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held onto Dipper’s hand to ground himself. It took a couple of moments but he felt his heart rate slow down. 
“Hey, is the kid okay?” Stan called from the porch. Wirt could hear the audible smack of Mabel’s fist against Stan’s meaty arms, followed by a hushed. “Ouch!”
“Ready to go in?” Dipper asked patiently, ignoring his relatives and their antics.
“I think so yes.” Wirt opened his eyes and gave a weak grin. 
***
The pair had wanted to spend the wait for dinner in the living room, enjoying the terrible public access television that Gravity Falls had to offer. However, Stan had other plans. Apparently Dipper’s second Grunkle, Ford as Stan called him, had failed to arrive in time to help like he had agreed. And now the couple were forced into the kitchen to help with dinner preparations. 
“Honestly you don’t need to help too much.” Dipper insisted as he kept an eye on the bubbling stew.
“I don’t mind. It’s nice to see the shack you talk so much about.” Wirt smiled. He carefully peeled an onion before dicing it. Dipper could have sworn the onion grew plumper when he handed it to Wirt.
“So he talks about this place huh?” Stan looked over his shoulder and away from his chopping board. “Better be talking about how great it was.”
“Oh but of course.” Dipper rolled his eyes. “The 5 star accommodations, and food to match? How could I complain?”
“Didn’t you say that the walls were riddled with splinters?” Wirt asked.
“They add character!” Stan insisted. He banged his fist on to the chopping board, launching sliced up carrots into Dipper’s bubbling pot.
“And a surprising amount of fiber.” Dipper said. He placed a lid on the pot. 
“What?” Wirt looked at Dipper. 
“The kid chews just about anything. I’m surprised his power wasn’t something like eating anything.” Stan said, he took the onion slices from Wirt and poured them into a pan with some oil.
“I don’t think that’d be very fitting.” Wirt said. 
“Oh? And why’s that?” Stan snapped his fingers, summoning a small flame at the tip of his finger, which he then used to ignite the stove. He raised an eyebrow as he stared at Wirt. Challenging him to back up his claim.
Wirt could feel his stomach twisting under the gaze of the older man, but a gentle hand on his shoulder helped the practising hero ground himself. He took a deep breath and put on what felt like a confident grin. “Well, for one thing Dipper would need an appetite for such a power to be useful.”
There was a beat, Wirt held his breath, expecting some snide remark about how he didn’t know what he was talking about. Instead, Wirt watched as Stan slapped his knee in laughter. The old man’s wrinkled face lifted with glee as his hoarse laugh filled the shack. He accidentally knocked over the pan he had just put on the stove. 
Acting quickly, Wirt grew a strong vine from the flowers on the window sill, easily catching the pan.
“And here I thought you were all talk about him being a smart alec!” Stan grinned. He clapped a hand on Wirt’s back.
“Thank you?” Wirt looked to Dipper for help.
His boyfriend gave him a small smile and a thumbs up. “Told you he could hold his own.”
“He still looks scrawny as hell.” Stan pulled his pan out of the vine’s grasp. “Pretty good with his powers. You sure he ain’t some mask behind your back?”
“Grunkle Stan, Wirt would never lie to me like that.” Dipper frowned. He looked disgusted at the suggestion.
“Not many regular people are quick enough to catch something that fast. Especially with powers they don’t use regularly.” Stan said.
“I do use my power often.” Wirt said honestly.
“And what does a librarian need chloromancy for?” Stan asked.
“It helps me put away books faster.” Wirt said. “Not to mention I had a very excitable younger brother. If I wasn’t keeping an eye on him, there was no telling how much trouble he’d get in.”
Dipper held his breath as he watched his Uncle’s reaction. The old man eyed Wirt up and down, before shrugging and moving back to his cooking. “Jeez you really are dating a goody two shoes, aren’t you?” 
“You know me. Can’t help but stick to the rules.” Dipper said with an awkward chuckle.
“Only when it suits you.” Stan remarked. “Now toast the bread, I didn't bring you in here to play 20 questions.”
***
‘Ford’ was still nowhere to be seen, but the family had decided to start dinner without him. 
“If he thinks I’m going to wait for him to eat then he’s got another thing coming.” Stan said. 
With the use of his plant powers, Wirt was able to set the table rather quickly. He wondered why Mabel hadn’t been asked to help, but when he saw several burn marks hidden under the table cloth, he realised the risk the ever glitter throwing Mabel could be to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before the table had been set and all food was served. The three Pines and Wirt sat together at the table, enjoying the delicious food. The sound of clinking plates filled the air.
All was peaceful until a loud crash came from the living room, followed by an angry shout.
“Stanley what did you do to my mirror!”
Stan didn't get up from his seat, in fact he  acted as though he didn’t hear what had just transpired. Wirt remembered seeing the old man reach for his ears before they began eating. ‘Perhaps he turned off his hearing aids?’.
Dipper gave Wirt a smile. “We’re in the kitchen Grunkle Ford!”
Wirt turned to the doorway just in time to see a man with a similar face to Stan’s but with a much deeper cleft in his chin and much poofier hair. He wore a trench coat and red sweater over black dress pants. His clothes were scuffed and were burnt in multiple places. To the untrained eye it would have looked like the man had run wildly through the woods from some kind of monster. However Wirt was familiar with markings like those that were all over Ford’s clothing. They were from stray bullets that had nicked his clothing, narrowly avoiding him. 
“Stanley, what was the big idea with putting my mirror behind the couch!” Ford marched right up to his twin, his face red with rage.
Stan lazily looked up at Ford, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. He raised a finger and swallowed his food. “I can’t hear anything you're saying Sixer.” Stan pointed to the kitchen counter, where his hearing aids sat, keeping him deaf to the world around him.
“You knucklehead! I almost got crushed!” Ford reached to punch Stan, but he was stopped by Dipper. The young man had jumped out of his seat and grabbed a hold of Ford’s arm. Dipper also summoned a vine from the window sill to keep his uncle restrained.
“Grunkle Ford, I’m really happy you’re back in one piece. I was hoping to introduce you to my boyfriend, Wirt.” Dipper said. He nonchalantly gestured to Wirt.
“Ah, yes. I had forgotten we had guests.” Ford’s cheeks turned red as he collected himself. “I apologise for my outburst. I’m usually much more composed. However, someone’s pettiness has affected that.”
“Still deaf as a post.” Stan pointed to his large ears. His mouth full of half eaten stew.
Ford rolled his eyes and walked over to Wirt. The old man wiped his hand on his dark pants before offering a six-fingered hand shake. Wirt politely returned the gesture with a firm hand. But as the pair shook hands, a painful realisation dawned upon them both. 
“You…” They both breathed. Their eyes locked into one another. 
Before Wirt could say anything, Stanford ran out of the room, and out of sight. 
Stan, Dipper and Mabel stared at Wirt, all thinking the same question. Wirt could feel their eyes boring into his skull, so he stood up, and excused himself. The young man made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. He splashed his face with some cold water and breathed deeply. He looked at the mirror above the sink, screamed, and tripped back into the bathtub.
“Calm down!” Dipper whispered. He stepped out of the mirror.
“How did you-”
“I’ve been copying Grunkle Ford’s power for ages.” Dipper said. “Now, would you mind explaining what that was just now?”
“So, remember how I thought I never met your uncles and was worried about a bad first impression?” Wirt asked. His tone sounded jovial despite his rattled nerves. “Well I don't need to worry about that anymore.”
“When did you meet Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked. He sat on the side of the bathtub.
“I was doing a nightly patrol of our campus. The security guards had asked for some help from the local hero guild. Someone was breaking in and taking the latest data found by the scientific teams. I was already on campus so the hero guild put me to the job.” Wirt said. He kept in his awkwardly sat position in the tub as he spoke. The shower curtain tangled with his long limbs. 
“So as I was walking around, I heard the guards calling for help, turned the corner and saw the tail coat of a man run down the hallway. ‘The light of the moon shone through the windows, guiding me through the dark to his eventual capture’. Is what I thought when I saw him turn down a dead end. But instead there was no one. There was the one way glass of the nearby lab door; but it was securely locked. The guards checked it anyway and found no one.”
“Right.” Dipper nodded along, tapping his chin.
“I walked along the floor, looking for any signs of the intruder; but alas he had slipped my grasp. The only person I found was one of the professors leaving after a late night at work. I had thought he was the intruder at first, since the first thing I saw were the tails of his coat, but it was a lab coat.” Wirt continued.
“But where does Ford fit into this?” Dipper asked.
“That professor dropped a roll of paper he was carrying. I thought it was some of his research, but when I reached down to pick it up. I noticed he had six fingers, which was not mentioned in the staff listings. And when I looked at his ID, it was a crudely faked card.” Wirt said. 
“Ooooh.” Dipper sucked in a breath. “And he realised you were the hero from that night?”
“There’s no way he didn’t.” Wirt said.
“Okay, things are messy, but, there’s nothing to worry about.” Dipper clapped his hands. “He knows that you know, but we don’t know he knows. So we can use this to our advantage.” 
“If he knows that we know, then he won’t try to deal with me to make sure I don’t blab?” wirt asked.
“But he can’t be sure that you know.” Dipper said. “As far as your story goes, you’re only a librarian. Just keep your cool and things should smooth over.”
“Considering how annoyed your Uncle Stan is, I doubt he’d want to cause too much more trouble.” Wirt said.
“Exactly.” Dipper smiled. “Now come on, dinner’s getting cold and trust me when I say you don’t want to fight Mabel for seconds.”
 Wirt watched as Dipper stood up offering his hand. The young man took a deep breath before accepting his boyfriend’s hand.
“That sounds lovely.” he agreed.
92 notes · View notes
missjanjie · 3 years
Text
Better Than Revenge | Chapter 3
Title: Better Than Revenge Summary: Karma Inc.’s business structure is simple - clients hire them when they’ve been grievously wronged and they send one of their revenge mercenaries to right them. As painstaking as their efforts to remain ethical may be, that may be tested when former detective, Rosé, enlists the squad to pick up where she couldn’t on a much higher scale, with potentially greater consequences. Word Count: ~2.7k (this chapter) | ~8k (total) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Jankie (Jackie Cox/Jan Sport), Halldoll (Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall), Gimone (Gigi Goode/Symone), Gottlux (Gottmik/Olivia Lux) Rating: T
Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi
Chapter Summary: Rosé learns Gigi, Symone, and Denali's revenge origin stories
-
Woodstock, IL — 2016
Gigi took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the mirror. She could do this, it was fine. Every time her suspicions or confusion would bubble up, she forced them back down. Hannah was nice, she was different from the other popular girls. She didn’t see the ‘weird art lesbian’ with the braces and thick-rimmed glasses, who rarely got pop culture references post-1989, at least, that’s how she made her feel.
“I’ll text you in the morning,” she assured her mother as she threw her bag over her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, I’m just hanging out with a friend.” She was out to her mom, of course, that was her biggest ally. But she wasn’t ready to tell her that the head cheerleader had taken an interest in her. Maybe when and if they became official. Until then, she shook off the last of her nerves and drove to her house, only pulled from her thoughts by the time she was sitting on Hannah’s bed.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Hannah cooed, batting her lashes and resting her hand on Gigi’s thigh.
If Gigi hadn’t been so blinded by her crush, she might’ve thought Hannah was laying it on a little thick, but she couldn’t act like she didn’t enjoy the attention. “Me too, a-about you, I mean. Sorry, I’m just nervous…”
“How come? I didn’t come on too strong over text, did I?”
“No, no I liked it, it’s just… I’m a virgin, like, I’ve only ever kissed before,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing rosy pink. She had talked a big game over text, but being faced with the chance of starting a physical relationship brought her back to reality.
Hannah pouted, rubbing Gigi’s thigh as she thought, letting her hand inch higher. “Well, you’ve got fantasies, don’t you? I know you’ve masturbated before. What do you think about while you touch yourself?”
Gigi hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. The other girl wasn’t wrong, she did know what she liked, could conjure up vivid imagery to get herself aroused, but she had never said any of it out loud. “I like powerful, confident women. I guess that’s something that drew me to you,” she started, “I wanna just… give up control, be dominated.”
“Really? Tell me more,” Hannah prompted, kissing along her neck and jaw and slowly tugging Gigi’s shirt off in an attempt to coax her to continue.
When Hannah didn’t seem deterred by her confession, Gigi started to relax. “It’s just, I don’t know, I always feel the need to be in control of my life and with sex, I just wanna let go and give up that power.”
“So like, what would you want someone to do to you?” she asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
She bit down on her lip. “Um… tie me up, spank me, choke me, and I know it’s kind of intense but maybe something like cnc or—” the incessant buzzing of her phone distracted her and, concerned it might be an urgent call or text from home, she took her phone out. “Sorry, one sec.”
It wasn’t from home, she had two missed calls from her best friend, Crystal, followed by several texts.
Crystal: GIGI STOP Crystal: SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Crystal: She’s broadcasting you on IG live! Crystal: We can see and hear everything…
Gigi’s face fell, her first instinct to pull her shirt back on. Then she slowly looked up and in front of her, that’s when she saw it, nestled between stuffed animals — Hannah’s phone with an instagram live going. She didn’t say anything, just ran out of the house as fast as her legs would take her and through her tears drove right to Crystal’s house. That was when the two of them formed their plot.
In and of itself, it was simple. Gigi waited one day until Hannah was away for a cheer competition and went to her house. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Mrs. Andrews, but I think I left some of my homework in Hannah’s room, she just said to let you know so I can run in and grab it.” Once inside, she found exactly what she was looking for, sliding Hannah’s diary into her backpack and went right back out.
“This feels very Mean Girls, I love it,” Crystal remarked as they taped page after page of the diary on lockers, walls, anywhere they could.
“Well, plan B was to go the Heathers route, so let’s just hope it works.”
And to say it worked was an understatement. As it turned out, Hannah had written things far more incriminating, and because it came from someone of her social ranking, it made everyone immediately lose interest in Gigi’s livestream scandal, and she graduated with the anonymity she needed for survival.
Present Day
“I’ll be honest with you,” Rosé remarked, “it’s kinda hard to picture you as an ugly duckling, especially the way you described it.” Gigi was too pretty, too perfect. Something didn’t add up.
Gigi got out her phone and scrolled through her photos until she found one from her senior year. “Believe it, doll,” she said as she held her phone up. She watched with an amused expression as Rosé looked from her phone, to her, and back with her eyes wide and mouth agape. “Braces off, lasik, learned a lot about how to dress while going to FIDM, which is where I met Symone, who helped fill in the blanks.”
“And made sure she got to do all them things she listed to that bitch without feeling ashamed about it,” Symone added with a smirk, draping her arm around Gigi and pulling her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Why don’t you tell her your story next, baby?” Gigi prompted.
Conway, AR — 2014
Symone watched her sister throw her bag over her shoulder and start to sneak out the window. “Look, I ain’t snitching or nothing, but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
She and her sister, Lala, were close, sometimes referring to themselves as twins – they were only ten months apart, in the same grade at school. And until the summer after sophomore year, they had the same group of friends. But the crowd Lala ran with now just rubbed her the wrong way.
“You worry too much,” Lala brushed it off. “I’ll be fine, in bed by morning like nothing happened.”
But when Symone got a collect call two hours later, she found out things were far from fine. She drove down to the county jail as fast as she could without getting pulled over herself. Luckily bail was a mere fifty dollars, but once she got her sister back in the car, she looked at her incredulously. “What the fuck happened?”
“One of ‘em brought weed, another brought booze, but when the cops rolled up on us, they said it all was mine. And who was they gonna believe, me or three white kids?” Lala sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me,” she whispered.
“I don’t either,” Symone admitted quietly, frustrated at her inability to come up with an immediate solution. “But we’re gonna do our best to get you out of this, okay?”
The best they could do wasn’t easy. It involved a lot of legal maneuvering, meetings with one person in a suit after another. The end result wasn’t ideal, but it was far better than what could have been. Lala was fined three hundred dollars and put on thirty days of probation. In and of itself, it didn’t seem so bad, but the residual consequences took their toll.
“I lost my scholarship, ‘mone. That was my ticket into college,” Lala sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m getting off with a slap on the wrist, but I really ain’t thrilled about taking out student loans,” she sat down on the floor beside the bed, head leaning against it. “Or maybe I’ll start with community college, I dunno. It just fucking sucks that they all got off with warnings.”
Symone’s brows knitted together, her lips pressed into a fine line. “Don’t you worry baby,” she said after a moment, “they gon’ face consequences one way or another.”
It had taken most of spring break, but Symone finally had all of the pieces for her plan. “Not the most convoluted thing in the world, but it’ll get the job done,” she mused.
Lala looked at her sister, then at her desk and back. “Do I even wanna know where the hell you got coke from?”
“No, you do not.”
Getting the drugs was the hard part. Getting into school early to plant the drugs in the lockers of Lala’s former friends was far easier, as was leaving an ‘anonymous tip’ from a ‘concerned student’ on the principal’s desk.
“God, I wish I could’ve seen them get hauled off in cop cars,” Lala remarked as she and Symone drove home from school. The three students were quietly escorted out of class and arrested, the school wanting to bring as little attention as possible. “Shame that they rich daddies will still get them off lightly.”
Symone sighed and nodded. “Sure, but they’re still gonna get something, which is more than what they got when they threw you under the bus. Bet they’re gonna think twice before they let someone else take the fall for them.”
Her sister smiled softly and shook her head. “You really ain’t gotta do all that for me, you know?”
“I know,” she hummed, “not gonna stop me, though.”
Present Day
“Wow, that’s both selfless and hardcore,” Rosé remarked with an impressed nod. “Did she ever find out where you got the coke from?”
Symone laughed and shook her head. “Nah, that secret I’m taking to the grave.”
Rosé jokingly put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, fair enough,” she chuckled. After a moment, she turned her attention to Denali. “That just leaves you, princess,” she remarked, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s your claim to infamy?”
Denali tossed her hair off her shoulder and grinned softly. “Who, me?” she cooed, fluttering her lashes. “Well, it is kind of an interesting story…”
Nicky rolled her eyes and tossed one of the couch pillows at her head. “Stop flirting and get on with it already.”
Fairbanks, AK — 2011
Denali groaned when the sound of loud footsteps racing up the stairs pulled her from her quasi-asleep state, then pulled a pillow over her head when the door swung open.
“What the hell are you still doing in bed when the qualifiers are in two hours?” her friend, Kahmora, asked with incredulous horror. She yanked the covers off of her, but stepped back in concern when she finally caught sight of Denali’s face. “Oh god, you look like shit.”
She frowned and rolled over to face away from her. “I feel like I died and was in the process of being reanimated, then killed again,” she lamented. “It’s probably food poisoning… or maybe swine flu came back, I dunno.”
“Did you eat anything unusual?”
Denali furrowed her brows as she wracked her brain. “I mean, Tara gave me those brownies and I had one, but when she said they were ‘special’, I just thought she meant they had weed in them, but that sure as hell isn’t it.” With as much energy as she could muster, she sat upright. “Oh my god, do you think she poisoned me?”
Kahmora arched her brow. “I think that’s a bit much, even for her. Do I think she put something like a laxative in there so it’d take you out long enough that you couldn’t beat her out in the international qualifiers? Yeah, probably. She’s a cunt.”
The skater scowled, her jaw clenched. “She’s a dead cunt,” she corrected, then suddenly shot out of bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered as she raced to the bathroom yet again.
There wasn’t an obvious revenge plan for Denali. She knew that nothing she did would get her spot in the competition, and she wondered if it was even worth it. But her pettiness and spite won out and she began planning out her course of action.
“Remember,” she was saying, “if all else fails, we go the Tonya Harding route.”
Kahmora sighed. “For the last time, you are not whacking Tara’s kneecaps, now let’s go.” Despite some pouting from Denali, they went to get the gears turning in their plan. They got to the ice rink and slipped into the locker room without being noticed by Tara, who was in the middle of practice.
Denali picked the lock and took out Tara’s change of clothes. Then she reached into her own bag and pulled on latex gloves and a plastic bag containing several leaves of poison ivy. She turned the shirt, pants, and socks inside out and firmly rubbed the leaves against the fabric, making sure she left as little fabric uncovered as possible. “She’s lucky I’m merciful or I’d rub it on her panties too,” she remarked offhandedly.
Kahmora tilted her head as she watched her. “Do you actually think it’ll take her out of the competition?” she asked as her friend put the leaves and gloves into the ziploc bag.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s possible, probable really, that the constant itching might make it too difficult for her to skate. But this is more about getting even with her. I might not ever get another chance to compete for internationals. She’s lucky the only retribution she’s getting is a few weeks of itchy blisters.”
“Otherwise you’d Tonya Harding her?”
Denali nodded brightly. “Exactly! Now come on, we have to get rid of the evidence.” And with that, they scurried out of the locker room as inconspicuously as they’d entered it and threw out the evidence in a trash can several blocks over.
When the news broke that Tara had withdrawn from the competition due to ‘unexpected physical problems’, Denali did her best to feign shock and didn’t celebrate until she and Kahmora were alone.
“So, what do you wanna do now?” Kahmora asked.
Denali tilted her head in thought, then smirked. “Let’s go get brownies.”
Present Day
“Personally, I still think you should’ve busted her knees,” Mik mused offhandedly. “Like, I bet you would’ve figured out a way to get away with it, you conniving bitch,” he teased.
Denali shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s not very original and it’d look a lot more suspicious on my end.”
“I think it was pretty badass,” Rosé offered, making the other woman smile which, in turn, made her heart flutter — something she chose to actively ignore. Instead, she let all of their stories sink in. None of their reasons for revenge were out of line, none of their victims undeserving. And none of the consequences were as severe as some of the things she had seen in her time. “You all really know what you’re doing, huh?”
“We wouldn’t have been able to keep this up for three years if we didn’t,” Jan replied. “We had all of the potential on our own, but we make a difference together, and then we added Jackie to tie up the loose ends. It’s been smooth sailing from there.”
“Yeah, and now Jackie ties you up instead,” Nicky teased, earning an eye roll in response.
Rosé watched the group interact with a fond smile. She had assumed they all got along to be working together for as long as they have been, but she hadn’t anticipated them truly behaving like a family. It was a stark contrast to the constant coldness and curtness she had grown accustomed to, both in her previous career and in the environment she grew up in. She only hoped it would make the tasks ahead that much easier for them.
10 notes · View notes
pyraffin-drgo · 3 years
Text
All Heavy interactions in Poker Night at the Inventory.
For you to interpret however you wish.
Video Version
(They have [bootleg movies] in your country?) "I like movies, yes." (Yeah, like what? [Lists movies]?) "No. My favorite are The Dirty Dozen and the first twenty minutes of Rocky four."
(We can talk Tetris?) "Hmmph. Tetris is baby game." (Tetris Attack keeps it hood!) "Why does everybody think I love this Tetris? It is just stacking!"
"[To Strongbad] Tiny Heavy." (What is it?) "Do you get the nightmares?" (I get the jibblie nightmares. [Describes silly nightmare, shivers].) "I am talking about the visions of endless suffering. Dead doctors everywhere. Spy can not be found. (No, but that sounds like the Jibblies.) "I do not like these 'jibblies.'"
"Strong and bad. How is boxing career?" (These. Are. My. HANDS!) "I was boxer, once. In school. We have to either box or learn to herd goats." Silence, looking concerned. "I am not good with goats..." (Too much information, man.) "At first, I do not like punching other boys... But then I learn to love it." Punches his palm menacingly.
(Find any rare drops lately?) "I do not understand." (When you get a kill, you get a present?) "When I get kill, I get honor of team." Smile drops. "Sometimes... I also get nightmares. A man does not go home to his wife and children." (So, no loot?) "Oh! You mean hat! Yes, I love hats! Sometimes, I get these. They are the best."
(Hey, Heavy. You know any hot Russian spies?) "I hate spies." (But you gotta have the inside line on some deadly minxes.) "You want hot spy?" (Am I not wrestle man?) "I have friend who gets you a hot spy. (Get em on the two-way, man!) "His name is Pyro." (Tycho, to Strongbad: The spy is hot because it is on fire.) (Oh...)
"[To Tycho] What do you do with life?" (Me?) "Yes. What is possible with tiny, frail body?" (I occupy myself with simulations... of various kinds.) "What is these?" (Struggles to explain.) (Strongbad: He lives in his parent's basement.)
(So, is there a Mrs. Weapons Guy?) "No. Sasha is my only love." (Sasha kills people, I presume?) "No." (Oh?) "WE kill people."
"[To Strongbad] Maybe you and I box?" (I can't risk my beautiful face, it's the franchise.) "We spar. For fun." (I don't think so.)
"Strong and bad. You wrestle? With mask?" (No, I'm a wrestle man, not those hack wrestle-LERS.) "Not like Iron Sheik?" (No, Iron Stake is a LER.) Heavy nods. "Hmm. This is too bad."
(So how long you been with those Team Fortress fellas?) "I do not understand." (The game's been on Steam for like 3 years. I imagine there was some audition process?) "Ohhh! Yes, I understand! I kill many men VERY quickly." (Excuse me?) "I kill record number of soldiers, and I am commissioned to join RED team."
(Mr. Weapons. I am in the market for a new firearm. [Specifications].) "Hmm, for you I do not recommend minigun then. You know, there is this fast baby man that annoys me greatly with shotgun." (Oh! Oh! What are the available options? I'll spring for leather!) "Da, this is good for you. I suggest Force-A-Nature." (I'll tell them [shop owner] Heavy Weapons Guy sent me.) "It is no need. I know guy."
"I will make hat from you, little bunny." No reply from anyone. A reference for the player to the Max hat in TF2.
"You look familiar, bunny." (How closely do you follow the Manhattan Crime Blotter?) Also a reference to the hat, Tycho then takes over conversation.
(If I need someone snuffed out, what's your going rate?) "Five hundred thousand U.S. dollars." (Steep.) "Cash." (You can do it discreetly?) "Sasha... not so discreet." (That's fine.)
(How did you guys hear of the inventory?) "My engineering friend brought me one night."
(This reminds me of the time Artie Flopshark rigged an entire poker tournament to pay off his loan shark.) "I know of this. This is respectable profession in motherland." Conversation is stolen by Tycho.
(This reminds me of [story]!) "I am reminded of time Engineer kill my entire team." (Damn Heavy, that's... heavy. Sorry to hear that.) "I search entire base for him. He tries to kill me with turret and mini turret, but I crush his toys like they are made of paper." (Sounds like crappy toys.) "Then I find him. Hiding by teleporter. I take his gun away from him. He tries to hit me with wrench! Hahohoh! So I take wrench away from him. I take his wrench and shove it down his throat, all the way down to the handle." (Christ!) Heavy laughs. "Then I rip off all his fingers one by one!" He talks while laughing. "Lets see you build toys now!" He breaks out in laughter. "There's blood- everywhere! And- he's crying!" More laughter. "I think he cries out for mother, but- but-" Crumples over laughing. "The wrench is stuck in his throat! And it sounds like-" Makes choking motions and noises then laughs. "Is this not the funniest thing??" (Horrified looks) (Head shakes slowly.) (That's some bleeped up bleep, man!)
(How about you, Heavy weapons? I'm guessing you're a vodka guy?) "Peach Bellini. But bubbles can give me headache."
(Mr. Weapons, how do you like your line of work?) "It is good. There are many benefits." (Oh! Like a free pass to snuff out bad guys or a waffle bar?) "Both. And full dental."
(I wonder if this dump is haunted.) (I hope so! Roughing up who can't die is fun!) "...I do not like ghosts..." (It's okay, Mr. Weapons. I have [extensive experience]. I can handle a few ghosts.) "...You will take care of ghosts for me?" (You bet cha!) Heavy nods at him. "I like you, tiny rabbit."
[Story including a union] "I am union. RED local six fifteen." (You guys unionized?) "Eh. It was necessity for group medical."
"Tycho. This sweater, is special equipment?" (No, standard issue.) "You have no class specific head gear?" (Got a motorcycle helmet that protects from 100% of UV rays.) "This sounds beneficial."
(Why do you keep calling me 'Tiny Heavy'?) "You are Heavy. Tiny. No? You are RED team. You have killing gloves of boxing. You earn these for being great killer! You should try out for RED team." (Hmm. Guess I could join your team of ruthless killers and lame hat wearers and watch you get grenaded by 8 year olds.) "You will take many bullets before dying I think."
(Hey, Heavy. I just finished [Russian fantasy book]. Ever read it?) "No." (Oh. What's your favorite book?) "I prefer war." (Ah, War and Peace. Tasteful.) "No. Just war." (Art of War?) "Nyet." Silence. "I like 'Tsar Hunger' by Leonid Andreyev. You know this?" (...No.) "Is classic."
"You have hands like young girl." (I keep them shits moist.) "...So you are more of sneaky, stabbing type?" (In an extreme circumstance, I guess.) Heavy looks at him suspiciously. "I keep my eyes on you." (No, no no- I wasn't implying that-) Heavy looking at him angierly. (Shit.)
(Ever listen to music while you work?) "Yes! I just buy new walkman." (What gets you in the killing mood? Icelandic death metal?) "I just get Huey Lewis tape. Keeps spirits up on battle field."
"[To Tycho] You have woman?" (Not with me) "She is pretty?" (Yeah, cute, glasses, red hair.) "She has the red hair??" (No, Heavy! She is not on the other team! Don't have to kill her!) "No. But I love the red hair!" (Well, you can't have her, either.) Re-used image of Heavy looking at him angrily. (Well, maybe we can work something out.)
(Hey, Heavyman. You think you can 'take care' of the King of Town for me?) "I can assassinate king, yes. It is expensive, though." (By take care of I meant sneak in and shave off half his mustache.) "I am not best at sneaking." (Confront him in a dark alley then?) "This is better. That way blood wash away in rain."
(You have any interest in moonlighting?) "WHAT? I am not moonlighter!" (Just a little work on the side with Sam and me beating up goons!) "Oh. I can not do this." (C'mon it's fun and free!) "No, I am sure it is." (Then what's the problem?) "I have non compete." (Ah, yeah. Lawyers.)
(All these aces reminds me of [weird dream]. You have any weird dreams, Mr. Weapons?) "I sometimes dream that I am killed. There is blood everywhere. (Tycho gives him a weird look) But then I wake up and I realize this is ridiculous! Nobody can kill Heavy weapons guy! (Riiiight...)
"[To his chips] This is good Solider. This one is good Doktor. You are demolition man."
"Saaaandvich, sandvich, I love you sandvich!" (Would you like someone to order you some food?)
"Blue man." (Tycho.) "Tycho. What college do you go to? You are educated, no?" (Actually, no.) "No?" (I studied at Gygax Polyhedral if you catch my drift.) "I do not. This is good school?" (Uh. The best.) "I went to Soviet College of Mines, Farms, and Science. I have PhD in Russian literature." (Do you.. use that in your work?) "More than you think."
"Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war?" (Those discount three-pack green helmets.) "To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type." (My favorite enemy? Like asking me to choose between my children!) Heavy laughs. "You crack me up, little bunny!"
(Hey, Hefty Bag, you ever play video games?) "Just one." (Oh yeah?) "It is called-" (Tycho: WoW?) "Nyet. That is not popular. It is called 'Where's an Egg'." (Strongbad: I love Where's an Egg!) "Where's an Egg is as big as Tetris in homeland."
(Concerning your firearm, whay caliber we talking?) "Big." (What, we talking 300 Weatherby Mag here?) "Bigger." (50 cal, whereabouts?) "Bigger than 50 caliber. They are hand made custom tool cartridges with classified diameter." (Why's that?) "So enemy canmot use ammunition. But Sasha can chew through theirs." (Diabolical!) "I think so." Nods.
(Alright, big pretend killer man. Tell me the most awesome story you have with plenty of senseless violence!) Heavy thinks. "When I was boy, I was at camp, being trained in many ways of combat." (Assassination camp for kids! This is gonna be good!) "There was sparrow sitting on fence. Snow falls quietly around me. Without notice, another boy jumps from behind tree and kills sparrow with throwing knife. The boy runs away." (And then??) "I pick up sparrow, and hear his last breath before digging him tiny grave..." (Tycho crying) (Max silent) (That's not even a little bit funny, man.) Heavy shakes his head solemnly. "No..." Sits back. "It's not."
(So, what do you do for fun?) "Clean Sasha. Use Sasha... Clean Sasha again." (Proper maintience is crucial.) "I also collect old coins." (A fellow numismatist!) "Which I melt down to make custom bullets." (Of course.)
"I am hungry for sandvich." (Then order a sandvich, man.) "Oh, I can not have sandvich! I become unstoppable killing machine!" (Yeah, maybe order a water.) "Is best."
"You wear blue sweater." (All the time.) "What are you?" (Haven't we went over this?) "You are not Scout. Maybe very tricky blue Spy? Maybe... new class?" (I can use a keyboard to sabotage your entire team, steal your intelligence, and have your sister delivered to my doorstep in one afternoon. Yes, I'm a new class.) Heavy, shocked, "This is true??"
(Hey, Heavyman, what's your living situ-aysh?) "I live in RED barraks. Is nice. There is foos table." (How about taking a room in the house of Strong?) "There is vacancy?" (First you'll have to dump the current person in your room.) "This is enemy?" (He won't put up much of a fight.)
Hope you enjoyed, spent most of the day copying all these down. The non-Heavy lines are paraphrased for shortness. Heavy's are full, how they are in game.
114 notes · View notes
cherryplasmids · 4 years
Text
☆ the lives you’ve left behind ☆
pairing: donny donowitz x reader
fandom: inglourious basterds—post-movie sequence
anon request: hi girl! i love your writing and i was wondering if you still write for donny donowitz? if you do i was wondering if you could do an angsty one? that's all i ask, you could take that and run with it however :)
notes: the reader has a kid  — aldo is referred to the reader’s child as ‘uncle’ but that doesn’t mean they are actually related. also, aldo is married to a girl name jenny
— the child is a boy named Alex for filler purposes
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"That's your daddy," You whisper, pulling the tiny bundle of joy closer to your chest. 
The infant, swaddled in a pale yellow blanket decorated with small brown bears, yawns but does not take notice of your words. Instead, Alex twists, stretches his arms out and settles back onto your chest. Without a care in the world, he just relaxes in the warmth that you've given him. An inkling of envy flashes through you—you would do anything to be that carefree again. But the war ruined everything, including your unbridled youthful attitude. 
"Handsome, isn't he?" You question as if the little one will respond. You'd be more scared than anything if he does. You wave the 4x6 photo forward to entice your baby to look. "The most handsome man I've ever seen. Everyone thinks so too, even your uncle Aldo but he won't admit to that.
"But don't worry, baby. You'll be just as handsome and charming as your old man was." 
As if he understands, the boy babbles happily, spit freely spilling over his lips and onto his cheeks. Grabbing a Kleenex from the bedside table, you wipe his face. It doesn't deter him. He continues to express his enjoyment through spit bubbles and random giggling. Your heart swells at the sight—his happiness contagious enough to erase your woes for the night. 
When the sun rises, you'll tell Aldo all about the affection your newborn has been showing. He'll run down the street to coddle his nephew. 
You don't continue until your baby boy calms down enough to the point where spit no longer seeps out of his mouth. By then, sleepiness is taking hold of him. He gives out a deep yawn. One of his tiny hands grips your right thumb while the other curls into a fist and rubs his eyes. A smile quirks at your lips. You take that as a sign to turn in. 
“I’ll tell you about your daddy’s love for baseball tomorrow okay? I’ll even show you his prized baseball cards. but you can’t tell him or he’ll have my head.”
He’s knocked out by the time you lay him down. You pray he’ll sleep through the night, allowing you to earn to some much-needed shut-eye he’s deprived you of for months. After tucking him in, you tuck the photo of Donny under his pillow. You press a gentle kiss on his forehead, whisper a few sweet words to him, and then glide out of the room, leaving the door ajar in case he wails for your attention. You make do with this system until Jenny, Aldo's wife, takes you shopping for a baby monitor. She knows a lot more about baby care than you do.
Sleepiness is taking you hostage too with a yawn escaping your lips every 1-2 minutes but you had housework to complete before the morning arrives. Mostly just clearing out boxes of gifts the Donowitz family had sent from Boston. Some of them were open, others weren’t. Gifts like a microwave or other kitchenware were left in their respective box. You’ll deal with those on a later date. 
There’s one box, though, that remains sealed. You inspect the plain cardboard container and see a word written across one side in neat cursive. But it isn’t the penmanship that has you gasping and dropping the box in shock.
No, it’s the word 'Donny' labeled across the surface that does.
It takes a moment or two for you to shake off the shock and another to get down to the ground. Sitting cross-legged, you stare at the box as if something will pop out and yell “surprise”—a harmful prank that will send you wailing for something you no longer had.
The knife seamlessly glides across the tape and you wonder when you reached for a knife in the first place. Your body is moving on its own accord without a thought concerning your mental wellbeing. While your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage, your hands steadily tear open the cardboard overlaps. 
Taking a deep breath, you open the flaps and find a single sheet of paper covering the rest of the objects. It reads “for my darling daughter, with much love.” It’s signed “Mama Donowitz”.
Underneath the letter reveals a boatload of miscellaneous items from Donny's youth that he's shown to you with pride. His prized Lefty Grove signed baseball, favorite Wrigley's chewing gum, and his worn and torn favorite baseball glove stood out the most. Little things like that made you grin to the point where your cheeks reached your eyes. Anecdotes of Donny's childhood run through your mind—his voice echoing pure excitement. You take your time admiring each item, trying to permanently engrave them into your memory just like you had with his stories. 
Then you find Donny's baby socks, embroidered with his name in red string.  All resolve you bottled up for months disappeared instantly. You completely crumble.
You press the little socks to your chest as tears freely stream down your face and onto your neck, coating the bare skin with liquid. A wail bubbles up within you, crawling up your throat at a steady pace. But when you open your mouth to scream, nothing comes out. It dies in your throat. The only effort you can commit to is to rock back in forth, allowing sobs to shake your body. If someone saw you, they might have thought you were convulsing. They might have even called the ambulance. 
The sobs don’t stop until hours later. By the time your heart calms down from its burning thrum, exhaustion envelops you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
           Aldo kicks some dirt on the side of the road while lighting up a Chesterfield. It doesn't take long for him to reach your house since it's down the road. He checks his wristwatch before knocking on the front door. He has about 45 minutes to meet Jenny at the factory. He'll spend 15 minutes here for coffee before leaving. You always made better coffee than his wife. 
After some knocking and no response, Aldo takes it upon himself to check through the windows. Most of them are covered by curtains but the window facing the breakfast table isn't. He peers through, searching for you and his nephew wrapped in your arms. 
Instead, he finds you on the floor with no baby in sight. 
Aldo runs to the back door and searches for the hidden key. Besides the backdoor, he digs under the false rock where he remembered he put. It’s gone. The Chesterfield falls into the hole. He crushes it out and fixes the dirt on top. As an act of impulse, he stands up, goes to the backdoor, and punches out the small window panels on the door. The glass breaks easily and shards pierce his hand just as smoothly. Just glancing at it, he can tell his flesh is free from any lingering shards. A clean slice on his wrist bleeds moderately. 
He reaches on the opposite side of the door and tugs at the locks. Not a second later, the door slams open, and you shoot up in an upright position. 
Immediately, a fury of questions spews out of Aldo's lips, blending together and becoming unintelligible to your groggy brain. 
"Is it morning already? I swear I took a five-minute na—" You see Aldo's bleeding hand and gasp, reaching out to inspect his wound. Your current position on the floor completely escaping you for a moment. Aldo lets you worry for right now. 
You drag him up to the sink and run his hand over the open water. "Will I be alright, doc?" His odd accent leaves a few letters out. It reminds you of someone you try not to think about. "Ain't seen such a wound since the war."
Briefly glancing at him, he throws a wink and you gratefully smile. "You're the bane of my existence." You take his hand out of the water to wrap it in a big Band-Aid. It has crude miniature drawings of Mickey Mouse that make Aldo question them. "Just in case either your kids or mine get hurt, they'll immediately cheer up at seeing Mickey. Band-Aid should really invest in designing their product. Who knows how much money they could make?"
Aldo agrees as you finish. "You'll see another day, lieutenant"
He crookedly grins at you and thanks you for your service. You offer him some coffee which he enthusiastically agrees too. He checks his watch as he sits down at the breakfast table. Jenny will have his head if he's late. But he doesn't worry too much about that. She'll understand once he explains what happened. 
"Mind tellin’ me why I caught a heart attack on this fine Thursday mornin’? Findin’ you sprawled out like freshly ran over roadkill?"
"Disgusting, Aldo." You say while passing him his mug of coffee. You turn around to fix yourself a toasted bagel with cream cheese. "I guess I was so tired last night that I fell asleep sorting out the gifts." You lazily wave your hand at the unsorted boxes on the floor. 
Aldo walks over to the opened box in the middle of the kitchen and grabs the socks you dropped hours ago. He looks them over and notices a letter embroidered on the top. 'D' in red thread. 
"Those are Donny's." You confirm. Aldo meets your glazed gaze. 
Aldo sucks in a quick breath. It finally clicks in his head. Jenny will understand. 
“Darlin—" You look up at him with such a depressed expression that immediately shuts him up. All he does is gather you in his arms and rests his chin on your head.
 He hears you mumble something about how small Donny's feet were before you silently cry into his chest. 
After a few seconds, Aldo's cheeks become wet with his own tears as he mourns over not only his friend but the lives he left behind. 
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
word count: 1,661 published: august 21, 2020  edited: n/a
115 notes · View notes
zahrajackson · 3 years
Text
TASK 003: THE HARGROVE TAPES
“You don’t mind if I record this, do you?”
Zahra leaned back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. “Of course not.” She wasn’t even looking at Hargrove, attention instead on digging through her handbag for some gum. “It’s always good to have records. I’d hate for my words to be misconstrued.” She looked up to give a sugary sweet smile before popping a stick of gum in her mouth to start chewing.
Tumblr media
“Let’s start with this… ‘Candy Girl’ nonsense. What do you know about her?”
Zahra gave a half-hearted shrug. Between her mindless chewing and her attention meandering around the room, she was the picture of impatient boredom. “Not much. I know that she’s, like, obsessed with me and my friends in a psycho stalker kinda way.” She paused here, tone sharpening as she locked eyes with Hargrove. “And I know that her nonsense almost killed my cousin and hijacked a memorial for my best friend. So I’d appreciate if you could be a little less dismissive, sir.”
Tumblr media
“And whose idea was it to throw the party on the beach? You all claim it was supposed to be a small event, but I hear quite the crowd showed up. Who invited them?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a party. It was supposed to be some kinda nostalgic, end of summer thing. You remember when us kids would take over your lake house for a sleepover back in the good old days, right Mr. Hargrove?” The smile was back, accompanied with an obnoxious pop as she blew a small bubble in her gum. She tilted her head in contemplation, letting him listen to her chew for a moment.
“I reckon some asshole must’ve overheard us planning it or something and decided to to make it a free-for-all. You of all people should know how college kids are. Apparently they made posters and everything.”
Tumblr media
“Why do you think you got taken to the library? Why not the other location?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Zahra scoffed. She doubted that the location was that significant - unless this was some roundabout way to traumatise them into not going there? Which was kinda ridiculous. The composition of the groups... well, it might have had more impact, but figuring that shit out wasn’t her job. “Maybe the people assigned to library duty have a grudge against me. Maybe it was just random. Track the creeps down and ask them.”
Tumblr media
“You say someone was ‘murdered’ in front of you… and none of you tried to stop it? Why?”
Zahra barked a sardonic laugh. “I’m flattered by your faith in us, sir.” The honey coating her words made the condescension a little more veiled. She wasn’t really trying to antagonise him that much, but this was a ridiculous question. She leaned forward to rest clasped hands on the table in front of her, catching his eyes again. “It was fast and unexpected - we didn’t even have the opportunity to do anything. And, I don’t know if you’ve ever been abducted, threatened, and trapped but we were terrified. All that, then two people are stabbed in front of us? Trying to take on the people with knives seemed like a stupid fucking move. Respectfully.”
Tumblr media
“You said the last - shall we call it a ‘challenge’? - required you to spill a secret. Insinuates the lot of you are keeping them, doesn’t it? So… what is so sacred to you that someone you’re claiming is a psychopath would want you to share it?”
“Everyone’s got secrets. I’m sure you do.” And it’s funny that you think anyone would spill their bullshit in a recorded conversation when those secrets are already being used to blackmail us. “And how much they matter to me doesn’t really matter considering the whole psychopath thing, does it? Like, I could have embarrassing first grade photos out there and a weirdo would probably think that’s sacred enough to try and use them to mess with me. Knowing secrets is probably just an excuse to screw with us.” She gave a dismissive shrug, blowing another bubble in her gum so another pop would punctuate her statement. “Are we done here?” she asked as she stood up, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got places to be and, all due respect, you’re not the police.”
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
lemonysharkbait · 4 years
Text
Here for Me - Mo Guan Shan x Zhan Zheng Xi
A year after Jian Yi's sudden disappearance and He Tian's subsequent mysterious departure, Zhan Zheng Xixi and Guan Shan start hanging out. Feelings get complicated.
Made this because I have headcanons about how the relationship between Mo and Xi will be after the other two disappear (it's only canon that Jian Yi will disappear, but it seems heavily implied that He Tian might depart at some point as well.) I think they genuinely like each other (in a bro way) in the Manhua. Add in a dash of angst and some feelings and you've got yourself some delicious fanfiction.
Tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, non-typical pairing, minor violence, aged up characters, there was only one bed, feelings
Read on AO3
---
Guan Shan gripped the banner tight, too tight. His knuckles went white and She Li’s words seemed to go white too.
Which way do I go?
Sweet snake with a tongue like honey. It had been lashing him with words, threats, ever since Jian Yi and He Tian disappeared like the pop of a chewing gum bubble.
“Well? It’s a year since graduation, Guan Shan, and where are you now?”
He knew he shouldn’t slide there. It was the last little gift that he grasped onto. Images of a cut palm and blood soaking a white jacket flooded his mind.
Guan Shan turned to answer and face the torrent of cold rage. But instead a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, sending his heartbeat off in a flutter. He Tian?
No, this hand was different, the scent of the person different. The voice had a different rumble and cantor.
“Guan Shan, there you are. Let’s go.”
Zhan Zheng Xi’s grip was strong and sure as it turned Guan Shan, tugging him away. She Li, surprised at the intervention of a friend– god, when was the last time he’d had one of those?– took a minute to catch up.
“Where are you going?”
Zhan Zheng Xi’s voice was even and flat as he spoke, brokering no argument. “Playing video games.”
She Li looked like he wanted to argue but they were in the midst of a crowd now and he was unbalanced. His eyes, sharp and angry, made contact with Guan Shan before he walked off in the other direction. Diverted. For now.
They walked in silence through the crowded streets like floating underwater, both slipping through the eddies. After awhile, Zhan Zheng Xi’s hand slipped from Guan Shan’s shoulder. They didn’t speak.
“Well, here’s my place, you can come hang out if you want.”
Guan Shan looked up at the nondescript block of apartments stretching high and long into a too bright sky. “Only if you’re ready to be obliterated in Super Smash.”
This brought back memories. Sprawled out on the floor, junk food and soda scattered around, the only light coming from the television. Guan Shan’s thigh was warm where it pressed against Zhan Zheng Xi’s.
Xixi’s little apartment was equal parts sterile and dirty. An unused kitchen next to a living room strewn with old carryout cartons. A neatly made bed next to a night stand filled with half-drunk water bottles. An uncluttered bathroom sink that needed to be wiped down.
He had never seen this space, having only spent time at Zhan Zheng Xi’s family house. The smell was still comforting. A hint of sweat, a touch of generic men’s body wash, no cologne. It brought him back to that summer.
The game pinged defeat. Guan Shan tossed his controller down in mock annoyance.
“You cheated fucker.” He shoved Zhan Zheng Xi.
“Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are.” There was a little pause and a smile that you would only see if you knew Zhan Zheng Xi.
Guan Shan sat up “Ok, that’s it!” Arms locked around in a tackle, an embrace that was a struggle for control. Flailing, a bottle of coke went rolling across the floor and Guan Shan’s world flips. Zhan Zheng Xi is more solid than he was even a year ago, hours spent at the gym between college classes. Guan Shan’s wiry strength, culled from working on his feet at three different jobs, is no match. Flipped on his back and pinned, Guan Shan finds himself laughing. He can’t remember the last time this sound has come out of him.
They still.
“What were you doing with She Li?”
Fuck, now isn’t that a question.
“Nothing. He approached me. Fucker keeps finding me.”
“Are you going to work for him?”
“No.”
“Is he bothering you?”
Guan Shan looks up into those intense blue eyes, represses a shiver. “What would you do if he was?” It’s a challenge. Always is.
Zhan Zheng Xi releases Guan Shan’s wrists and sits up a little. His lips are pursed and he looks at Guan Shan like he already knows enough.
“Don’t get involved Zhan Zheng Xi. She Li’s not a nice guy. He’ll leave me alone when he gets bored. Always does.” Guan Shan sits up on his elbows. Looks around. Sighs.
“I should go, I got work early tomorrow.” He reaches for his phone. Notices that Zhan Zheng Xi hasn’t slid off his thighs yet. Doesn’t mind except for the tricks it’s playing on his mind. It’s been awhile and having someone so close is sending signals he’s working hard to repress.
“You can crash here.”
Guan Shan glances at him from the corner of his eye. Wishes he hadn’t as soon as he sees that intense stare. His eyes dart back to his phone, pretending to be entranced by the time. “Thanks man, but I really should go.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Guan Shan barks out a laugh “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t mind.”
God, the weight of this man’s stare is too fucking much. And they’ve spent an awful long time pressed together staring at each other. It’s the only reasoning Guan Shan can come up with for his stupid impulse, surging forward and capturing a taste. Warm lips and a moment where nothing happens. And then Zhan Zheng Xi starts kissing back and that’s when Guan Shan’s sense comes flooding back to him.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t– I’m sorry.” Guan Shan scrambles out from under Zhan Zheng Xi, snatches his jacket and keys and starts slipping on his shoes.
“Guan Shan–”
“Thanks for everything today. Text me some time.” And with that he slips out the door and nearly jogs down the hallway, a chorus of “stupid fucking idiot” running through his mind.
*** They hang out again and Guan Shan successfully keeps his hands to himself. He does not think about the way Zhan Zheng Xi siddles up next to him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He does not consider staying when it’s late and his eyes are heavy and maybe they could share the one bed. And he definitely does not linger on Zhan Zheng Xi’s lips when the other man sees him to the door.
They don’t say much out loud. That was what Jian Yi and He Tian were good at. But they text. A lot. They text about video games. Work, school and basketball. And when they’re really feeling bold, they text about them.  
“Who are you talking to?”
Guan Shan looks up from his phone, his mom’s question cutting into his little world. “No one.”
“You were smiling at your phone.”
She has the all-knowing mom smirk sitting lightly on her features. Guan Shan shovels more food in his mouth. Bounces his leg. “Just looking at stupid stuff on the internet.”
She looks like she wants to say more but doesn’t.
“Work’s supposed to go late tonight, so don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you, it’s my job.” She says it fondly, lightly teasing. Guan Shan pushes away from the table grabbing his duffle.
“I’ll see you later mom.”
“Be safe Shan-Shan.”
*** This wasn’t exactly safe, but that was the thrill of it. Hands wrapped tight, lights in the makeshift ring blaring down on him, Guan Shan bounces on the balls of his feet and lets the energy of the crowd roll through him. There’s something hot and vicious prickling under his skin, the kind of feeling that keeps him up all night, makes his heart flutter when he gets a message notification and has sent him on long jogs with no relief. Time to release the tension, relieve some of this pressure that sits in his belly.
He passes a hand over his face, then balls them up in front of him, ducking into a defensive position. His opponent is pretty like a quarterback, chin chiseled like Clark Kent. Guan Shan snarls, bearing his mouth guard, spits out an insult and tenses for the bell, the signal to the start of this dance.
It comes and he goes.
He doesn't feel most of the blows as they happen, high on adrenaline and something else he doesn’t have words for. Maybe it’s all the late nights finally catching up with him. The other guy has a size advantage but Guan Shan feels unhinged. They go all three rounds and by the end of it, both can barely hold up their arms. Guan Shan wins by decision. He clasps his opponent’s wrapped hand and thanks him. The guy raises his eyebrows.
“This your therapy kid?”
Guan Shan barks out a harsh, unhinged laugh. And that’s when he finally feels the shooting pain in his right hand.
*** The call to Zhan Zheng Xi rings twice before he picks up.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
There’s a pause before Zhan Zheng Xi answers. His voice is flat as ever but it sounds strangely controlled. “Where are you?”
Guan Shan feels his stomach clench in a funny way, like he’s done something wrong. “Uh, actually, it’s ok, sorry if I woke you.”
The voice on the other line is tighter now “Mo, tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.” There’s a pause then “Please.”
*** Guan tries to clean himself up as best he can. There’s more cash than he’ll make all month in his duffle bag. The water in the shower runs red for awhile before finally clearing up. He looks at his face and it’s not pretty. They taped him up, but it’s gonna take awhile for the swelling to go down on his left eye. There’s also a cut on his forehead that keeps opening and dripping thin rivulets down his face. Nothing will leave permanent marks. Guan Shan prods at the swollen skin and grimances. The worst part is his right hand. His knuckles are split– that’s normal –but the stiffness and strange way his pointer finger now sits are not normal. Pulling on a shirt takes a little more work than he’d like but at least now he finally feels hollowed out, completely empty, all the fire and flame gone. The restlessness is replaced with a bone-tired ache.
Zhan Zheng Xi pulls up in a little beater, a hand-me-down of a car that looks like it’s nearing its last leg. The brunette hops out the car as Guan Shan walks up. The spike of excitement at his presence is completely involuntary. Guan Shan tries his best to taper it down and go for relaxed and normal. As though his face doesn’t look like ground beef right now.
“Hey.”
“Who did this to you?”
That was not the first question he was expecting. Maybe a “what the fuck did you do?” or the classic: “Guan Shan, what did you get into this time?” But the look Zhan Zheng Xi was giving him was making his belly do funny little flips.
“No one.”
Zhan Zheng Xi raises an eyebrow. His normal thousand yard stare somehow looks absolutely murderous.
“It was just a friendly fight. I won.” Guan Shan grins and his taped lip splits open. “You should see the other guy.”  
A muscle in Zhan Zheng Xi’s jaw jumps but he seems to swallow whatever impulse has him staring daggers into the exterior of the building. Wordlessly, he slides the duffle bag off Guan Shan’s shoulder and heads towards the car.
***
City lights pass by in a blur. A soft summer storm breaks across the sky. The air smells like ozone and the night feels still.
“Which hospital do you want to go to?”
It’s another question Guan Shan was not expecting. “None of them. I’m fine, really, I just, can I crash at your place tonight? I just want the swelling to go down a little before my mom sees me.”
There’s a long controlled exhale but Zhan Zheng Xi turns onto the highway toward his place. Guan Shan settles into the seat feeling warm from the free alcohol he drank– winner’s choice –and comforted with the rocking of the car.
*** They arrive and Guan Shan finds himself feeling stiff. His ungraceful exit out of the car has Zhan Zheng Xi by his side gingerly lifting and guiding.
“I’m really fine, just gonna be sore.”
“You were drinking.”
Their faces are close as Zhan Zheng Xi supports Guan Shan. He’s also holding his bag.  
“Oh, yeah, winner gets a bottle. The rest is in my bag if you want it.”
Zhan Zheng Xi doesn’t say anything at that, just smoothly maneuvers them inside to the kitchen and leans Guan Shan up against the counter. He busies himself with getting a glass of water. Guan Shan watches with his good eye appreciating the other’s sure build.
“It’s probably best if I just crash on the floor, this thing keeps busting open,” Guan Shan points to where he thinks the cut is. It’s hard to tell now that his left eye has completely swollen shut. “I don’t want to make a mess–”
Zhan Zheng Xi is suddenly there, filling his vision. Guan Shan realizes a moment late that he’s inspecting his wounds. He blushes despite himself.
“It’s really fi–”
“Stop. Stop, stop saying it’s fine.” A muscle jumps in Zhan Zheng Xi’s jaw.
Reflexively, Guan Shan narrows his good eye and tries to jerk away from the inspection. Zhan Zheng Xi boxes him in.
“Mo. Please. I lost him. And then He Tian disappears. I can’t just, don’t ask me to think this is fine.”
Oh. oh.
Guan Shan stills and the little butterflies that flit in his stomach any time he’s around Zhan Zheng Xi kick up into a feeling that has him exhaling unsteadily.
Zhan Zheng Xi leans his hands on the counter on either side of Guan Shan and he hangs his head. He stays there for a moment, breathing unevenly. Guan Shan wants to reach out and touch him, comfort him, let him know that he’s really ok.
Zhan Zheng Xi pushes up suddenly and hands Guan Shan a glass of water and an ice pack. “Drink this and hold this on the worst parts of the swelling.
Guan Shan obeys. He lets Zhan Zheng Xi wipe the dried clots of blood from his face and smear more antiseptic on the cuts. He lets him lift off his shirt and tries his best to not reassure Zhan Zheng Xi that it’s really fine. He lets him brush gentle hands over the bruising on his torso. He lets him look into his eyes for a long moment. Lets the frustration seep between them.
“I’m not, I’m not cut out to help with this, Guan Shan. I’m not like him.”
Guan Shan mentally fills in He Tian’s name. No one is like He Tian, a kid who could stitch a wound, fight off a group of grown men, survive a landslide.
“I know you’re not. And guess who’s not here right now. That’s why I’m here, with you.”
The words are a little too raw but they do the trick. Zhan Zheng Xi pulls himself together. 
“Let's get you settled in bed.”
“Just let me take the couch, I don’t want to mess up your–” Guan Shan cuts himself off at the stern look that Zhan Zheng Xi gives him. He follows him over to the small bed, taking his ice pack and water. Zhan Zheng Xi is watching him like any moment he might collapse.
The TV is on a pause screen, whatever game Zhan Zheng Xi had been playing when Guan Shan called stopped without hesitation. Guan Shan gingerly lowers himself onto Zhan Zheng Xi’s bed, propping himself up on pillows. The smell of the other man overwhelms him surrounded as he is by his bedding. Zhan Zheng Xi fusses with the blankets before grabbing something from the bathroom.
“Take this.”
Guan Shan takes the pill without protest. It’s not long before a relaxing warmth spreads throughout his body and the pain fades into the background.
Zhan Zheng Xi is applying ice to Guan Shan’s hand and Guan Shan suddenly feels giddy, watching wisps of soft hair fall over Zhan Zheng Xi’s brow.
“I thought you just tolerated me for Jian Yi.” It’s the first time he’s utter the other’s name. It feels wrong somehow.
“You’ve always been nicer than you let on.”
Guan Shan feels like his body is thrumming, levitating, the adrenaline crash and painkillers making everything feel unreal. “You’re more perceptive than you let on.”
“Do you miss He Tian?”
Guan Shan exhales like he’s just taken a punch to the gut. “That fucker. I know he’s alive out there somewhere and he’s just going to fucking show up like nothing happened. And I’ll, I’ll let him.” Guan Shan says the words like he’s been dumbfounded. It’s the first time he’s ever admitted the hold He Tian has on his past. His future. But not his present. Because He Tian isn’t here.
“Xixi, that fucker left without a word and hasn’t been in contact with me since. I don’t care if it was to protect me or because of duty, it was shitty. It is shitty. I’m tired of putting everything on hold for him.” Guan Shan grasps his face with his hands, winces, watches the colors bursting on the backs of his eyelids.
And Zhan Zheng Xi, the practical ass, gently takes Guan Shan’s hands and places the ice back on the right one. Condensation soaks through the sheets and Guan Shan sighs, gives in, snags Zhan Zheng Xi’s face with his left hand. Searches his face. “I remind you of him?”
“Yes.”
Guan Shan snorts “How? Blonde asswhole was actually nice.”
Xixi’s stare is so flat Guan Shan feels lost in it. Anchorless. Like shopping in a new grocery store– everythings in the wrong spot and he’s wandered through the entire building.
“You’re both very bright. He covers himself with happiness. And you do,” he pauses, continues. “Something similar.”
Guan Shan knows what he means. His anger. His sharp looks and resting bitch face. He Tian had seen right through it too. Their memories are all mixed up together and Zhang Zheng Xixi is the only person on this earth that knows what it’s like to have your crush ripped from your life suddenly without a trace. But not dead. Just gone.
It didn’t feel like hanging in indefinite space. It felt like falling. And where was the fucking bottom of this fall? Being around Zhan Zheng Xi felt like setting shoes on stable land. Guan Shan dropped his hand.
“Come on. Turn off the lights and get in bed. Don’t give me the “I’ll take the couch shit”. There’s enough room here and I don’t want to keep you from being comfortable.”
Zhan Zheng Xi moves around the apartment flipping off lights and putting things away like it’s just a normal night and there isn’t a man taking up too much space in his bed with a swollen face and a hand that might need more than tape.
Guan Shan is relieved when he crawls into bed next to him, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Just don’t do anything. This is just sleeping. Totally normal. Just crashing at a buddy’s house. Think about things that make you tired. Go the fuck to sleep.
All of Guan Shan's efforts are blown out of the water when Zhan Zheng Xi’s leg presses against Guan Shan’s and it’s just south of innocent. The only acceptable solution is to escalate. Not like Guan Shan could ever just leave something be.
So he shuffles into the touch, rolling onto his side and using the movement as an excuse to press more of himself against the other man. The movement also jostles his hand and he sucks in a little breath, waiting for the jolt of pain to subside.
“Your hand.” Zhan Zheng Xi sits up and leans over Guan Shan to look and Guan Shan feels his heart flutter– which is absolutely ridiculous. It’s middle school all over again only confusing for entirely other reasons. “Guan Shan, are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s not my hand that’s the problem.
“It’s not?”
Shit. Zhan Zheng Xi has an eyebrow cocked and a little smirk on his face. Guan Shan looks away. “Just, lay down.”
Zhan Zheng Xi does, but with an arm wrapped around Guan Shan’s waist. He noses into Guan Shan’s hair, breathing deep.
And it feels so comforting.
Every line of taunt question, curled like the curve of a question mark, relaxes in Guan Shan’s body. “What do we do when they come back?” He whispers it into the dim room, half expecting for some reason for no answer.
“They’re not here. We are.”
---
Notes: And then He Tian and Jian Yi come back and they all make one giant angsty poly family. The end.
I know this is not a normal or even popular pairing. But I saw the potential and just had to go for it! It just sort of flowed out into the word vomit you see here. I don't think I have the timeline perfect, but I'm shooting for when Zhan Zheng Xi has started college right before Jian Yi reappears.
Thanks for your likes, reblogs and comments! They feed my little crushed soul during these strange strange times.
52 notes · View notes
ditch-witches · 4 years
Text
The Bathtub (Dean-Charles Chapman x reader)
Tumblr media
Thank you to the marvelous ms.@iongaa​ for once again providing us with a gorgeous moodboard. Also, major appreciation to our baby, LB, for her stunning breaker. Give them both a shout for us. <3
requested: yes/no (stop shaking your head at me, Ryan)
pairing: Dean-Charles Chapman x reader
warnings: grab your bibles and St. George’s there may be swearing
word count: 1,107
a/n: I really don’t have much to say (for the first time in my life) but please give our amazing artists the love and appreciation they deserve :) also CATCH THE SIMP I HAVE BECOME.
Tumblr media
You stretched your legs out across Dean’s lap, your white dress a cloud around the two of you, filling the bathtub as if it were bubbly water. Dean loosened the collar of his white button-up to match the bowtie which was now just a strip of fabric around his neck, rolling his sleeves as he took a sip of his beer. You leaned against the porcelain edge of the tub, looking at your new husband and he settled into his spot across from you, his feet nestling against your side as he fiddled with the straps of your heels to remove them for you. It was odd to think about the fact that you had woken up that morning as just yourself, but now you were someone different. You were his wife. 
“Did you have fun?” Dean asked, his arms draping lazily over the bundle of fabric your skirt had become. 
You smiled to yourself slightly, the exhaustion you were feeling making you warm and fuzzy at the sight of him. “Yeah, what about you?” You quizzed, taking a drink from your own bottle. 
He smiled brightly. “Yeah, definitely. Can you believe we like… did that?” He absentmindedly fiddled with the ring around his finger. 
“Honestly, no. It doesn’t feel real yet.” You toasted with him as he giggled and you slipped further into the tub. 
He sighed in content, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you as you drifted into your memories of the night. Your mind blurred to dancing with him for the first time as his wife. It was crazy to think about the fact that even something the two of you had done many times before was now more precious and dear to your heart because it was with the man you would be spending the rest of your life with. “If you were stranded on a desert island and could only bring one thing, what would it be?” Dean posed, looking up at the ceiling and then to the curtain. The bathtub you were in was rarely used, something you hadn’t taken notice of until you had come home, finding yourself obsessed with the bathroom the two of you had spent renovating together when you first moved in. The tub was one of those ridiculous ones with the feet and molding that your mother had bought because ‘everyone should have a tub with feet at least once in their miserable lives.’ 
“Duct tape, definitely. Did you ever see that Mythbusters episode where they built rafts and hunted and shit?” You answered after a moment of thought, your eyes casting over to him as he furrowed his brows and nodded. “What about you?” 
“Rum,” he flung back without skipping a beat. You sat up slightly, chuckling. “No, listen. Jack Sparrow managed just fine with it and-” 
“- and because it happened in a Disney movie…” You continued slowly, a joking lift in your voice. 
“- it has to be real,” Dean finished, a know-it-all expression spreading over his face as you rolled your eyes with a laugh. 
“God, I’m in love with you,” you jeered, making him laugh. 
“You are so stuck with me,” he responded matter of factly, taking another sip. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I don’t throw that term around lightly,” he jested and you smiled at your hands. 
“I’m glad we’re friends,” you threw back, sarcasm evident in your voice. 
He giggled. “Best friends, sweetheart.” 
“Since we’re best friends now,” you began, wetting your lips as his hand rested on your leg beneath your fluffy, obnoxious dress, “am I still attractive to you?” You weren’t serious about the conversation and Dean could tell. 
His mock sincerity made you want to giggle. “Oh definitely. If anything you’re more attractive to me now.” He took another drink. The tub was beginning to warm up against your skin, something you were grateful for because of the thinness of your dress sleeves. The beading on your long sleeves was almost as unnecessary as the legs on the tub. 
You bit your lip. “How so?” 
“You’re a Chapman now.” 
“Dean, that’s incesty-”
He groaned, cutting you off. “- it sounded better in my head.” You giggled and kicked him. Looking at him now, grinning and flushed from the alcohol of the night, your heart swelled. Looking at him now was like seeing him for the first time, granted you missed the split eyebrow, but he was still the same Dean. 
Your hand twirled into the fabric of your dress. “So, besides more bathtubs, what are you most excited about for our life together?” 
He smiled to himself at your question, his eyes lighting up as he swallowed. “I think I’m most excited about having kids with you,” he answered hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes barely meeting yours. “No pressure and not anytime soon, please, love,” he joked, breaking some of the non-existent tension as the two of you seemed to breathe again. You leaned your elbow against the tub’s edge to rest your chin in your hand. “I think the idea of something that’s a piece of both of us being put out into the world is kind of amazing, I don’t know.” His gaze finally met yours, his eyes full of love for you. “Another dog would be nice too.” You snorted at his addition. “What about you? The next season of Peaky Blinders?” 
“Most definitely. I’m looking forward to Cillian mentally ruining me.” 
Dean raised his bottle at your comment and mumbled, “God I love that man,” before taking another drink. 
“No, I’m most excited about being a grandparent with you.” He smirked at your glowing expression as your eyes seemed to ask him if he understood. “Think about it. Imagine being all old and saggy and still getting to wake up next to me, your hot wife who hasn’t aged a day.” He smiled at you and rolled his eyes as you giggled. 
“Sweet,” he quipped, making you laugh a bit harder and him giggle as well. 
You settled slightly. “Don’t worry. I’d still worship your body like I do now.” He looked up at you through his long eyelashes. “Unless you turn into the Joker.” 
He grinned mildly, pulling on the leg of yours that he had been holding onto, dragging you up and closer to him. “I’m glad I married you,” he stated as your hand brushed against the lapel of his suit jacket. “I love you.” 
“I love you,” you mirrored, closing the space between the two of you in a binding, soft kiss in the obnoxious bathtub the two of you never used.
102 notes · View notes
vannahfanfics · 4 years
Text
Hanta Sero and the Goddess of Fun
Tumblr media
Category: Friendship Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Hanta Sero
Hey, everyone! Here today with a story for two of @bnhabookclub​‘s events! I’m combining the prompt “Pillow Fort” from the Bingo Event with the prompt “Violence is not the answer”/“Yeah, but it is an option” from the Celebrating Sero event. How could I not write something for our lovable Tape Hero’s birthday? Happy reading! :3
Sero’s eyes were lidded as he sucked absently on a popsicle stick that he had long since cleaned the mango sherbet from. As he drew it from between his lips with a small “pop,” he glanced up at the ceiling fan slowly rotating above his head. His black eyes traced the blades around and around with dull interest, which quickly dissipated into boredom. With a loud groan, he slumped down onto the couch until his shoulders rested against the couch cushion and his legs scrunched up. This blows. I could be out having a good time right now, but… he complained as he began chomping on the popsicle stick like a hamster. He’d imprinted his teeth into the malleable wood by the time Mina came strolling in from the kitchen. 
“Aw, Hanta, you look bored out of your mind,” she tutted as she draped herself over the back of the sofa to smile pityingly down at him. 
“So glad of you to notice,” Hanta droned. He continued to bite down on the popsicle stick, finding some grotesque level of satisfaction from chewing on it. Mina hummed empathetically and bounced around to perch on the arm of the sofa. “I’m so bored!” he exclaimed and chucked the popsicle stick onto the coffee table, no longer entertained by the novelty. Hanta threw his arms up behind his head and pouted at the empty television screen displaying his warped reflection. He rolled onto his side to bat his eyelashes at the pink girl. “O, Goddess of Fun, please bless me with an activity to perform before my brain jellifies and oozes out of my ears,” he pleaded. I need a distraction! Mina giggled and kicked her legs a little in delight. 
“‘Goddess of Fun’? You flatter me, Hanta.” She patted her pursed lips with the pad of her index finger as she contemplated. She then gasped and clapped her hands together. “I know! Why don’t we build a pillow fort?” At her suggestion, Hanta sat up with raised eyebrows. 
“A pillow fort?” he repeated. As he pondered the notion, a grin slowly spread across his face. “Yeaaaahhh… Yeah! That sounds like fun!” As he confirmed, Mina’s fingers flew across her phone screen, sending a message to their class group chat. Mina’s tone of voice would be bubbly, but participation would be all but required. The ceiling thumped with footsteps as the students slowly meandered out of their rooms with pillows and blankets in tow. Mina and Hanta hopped up to wrench the cushions from the sofas. As they pushed the coffee table out of the way to create an ample open space for their creation to come, Ochako came bouncing down the stairs; her arms were laden with blankets and pillows, and her eyes sparkled with unbridled delight. 
“I’ve never made a pillow fort before!” she gasped. When the brunette scampered over to dump her contribution onto the rug, Mina tutted and embraced Ochako, pressing her face into her chest and patting her head. 
“Our poor ‘Chako, so deprived of life’s great joys,” she crooned. Ochako blinked, her response muffled by the fabric of Mina’s tee-shirt smothering her mouth. Hanta grinned at them as he built the fort wall with the cushions and furniture frames. Ochako blinked again when Mina thrust her away and dove down to retrieve the pillows. “This is gonna be so much fun! ‘Chako, will you make some popcorn? We can stay up late watching late-night anime re-runs!” The brunette saluted the pink-haired girl before trotting off to the kitchen. The smell of butter and the sound of popping kernels soon filled the air of the living room. 
Hanta grinned at Mina as she began laying the pillows out on the floor to construct a large, bouncy layer for them to lay on. 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this. It makes me feel like a kid again!” he laughed as he dragged a floor lamp into the center of the room to drape the blankets over it and make a circus tent-like structure. Mina nodded amiably from her perch on the floor. 
“It’s good to be in touch with your childhood!” Before they could say anything else, there was a yelp followed by the distinct series of thump indicative of someone falling down the stairs. 
“Ah!” came Eijirou’s voice. “Midoriya, are you all right, dude?” Hanta peered over the back of the couch. Izuku sprawled on his back at the base of the steps, cushioned by a mass of blankets and pillows. The only way that Hanta knew it was even him was Eijirou’s comment and the shock of pine-green hair peeking out from underneath a four-foot plushie of All Might. 
“Yeah,” the boy whined, shifting the gigantic stuffie to smile shakily as the redhead descended the steps with his pillows tucked under one arm and his blankets draped over the other shoulder. “I tripped over one of the sheets…” 
“Why the fuck do you have that ridiculous thing?” Katsuki scoffed, leaning over the banister of the steps to sneer at the green-haired boy. Izuku defensively hugged the hero plush as he sat up and pouted at the blond who was now rounding the landing. 
“It’s a pillow fort, Kacchan! I can bring my All Might if I want to!” 
“Oh, it’s so cute!” Ochako laughed delightedly as she strolled in with two buckets filled with popcorn. She set them down on the displaced coffee table so she could crouch down and admire the adorable rendition of the former number-one hero. “So big, too! How much did you pay for it?” Izuku’s cheeks turned red, and he began to mumble under his breath. At some point, he must’ve uttered the price because the color slowly drained from Ochako’s face, and she began to wobble from side to side in a fit of wooziness. Hanta frowned with a raised eyebrow. Those things can run for hundreds of dollars… No wonder it’s given Ochako a conniption fit. Izuku squeaked as Ochako stood and slowly staggered away, looking like her soul had abandoned her body from the shock. 
Izuku continued to clutch the large plush as he toted his mess of blankets and pillows over to Hanta. Once Mina arranged the pillows, Izuku plopped down in the corner, reclining against the plush and looking like an overjoyed toddler in a candy store. Katsuki had denounced Izuku’s plushie, but Hanta caught the blond staring intently at it like he was impossibly jealous. 
“Ah! It already looks so fun, everyone!” Momo called from the landing as she glided down the steps, her nightgown swishing around her feet and her massive down comforter stretching behind her like a bridal train. Hanta grimaced at the gargantuan blanket, sure that if he tried to drape it over the furniture, it would collapse. Momo trilled delightedly as she strode over, whirling the heavy blanket around with a girlish giggle. “Here, Hanta, will this do?” she asked as she piled the giant piece of fabric into his arms. He slouched down as his unprepared shoulders suddenly bore the weight, and his knees wobbled as he struggled to remain upright. 
“Hehe, yeah, Yaomomo… Thanks…” Momo clapped her hands together, clearly pleased, so Hanta absolved to find someplace for the gigantic comforter. The girl scampered off to assist Ochako in the kitchen, spouting something about finding a tea that goes good with popcorn. Hanta decided to stretch the comforter out on the layer of pillows; the down blanket was stupidly soft, and felt like a cloud under his bare feet. As he knelt amongst the pillows and blankets, he nodded approvingly; their pillow fort was coming together nicely. He smiled up at Mina as she bounced across the fluffy pillows to him. “This was a really fun idea!” 
“What can I say? I am the Goddess of Fun,” she snickered matter-of-factly. She stood beside Hanta, draping the sheets over the furniture to begin forming their tent. “Though, I’m surprised that you’re stuck here tonight. I would’ve imagined that you’d’ve gone out with your family for your birthday.” Hanta’s cheeks suddenly burned painfully hot. He wildly glanced around to make sure no one heard, then tugged Mina down by her arm. She yelped as she was forced down into a squat, but he clapped a hand over her lips to keep her noises from arousing suspicion. “What’s the big deal?” she hissed when he removed his hand. 
“I didn’t want anyone to know!” he complained in a harsh whisper. Mina blinked confusedly at him, and Hanta grimaced uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Me and my folks had plans, but they fell through. It happens; I’m not upset about it.” The melancholy look that overcame his face told another story, so he forced a nonchalant smile on his face to prevent Mina from noticing. “I didn’t want it to be a big thing, okay? You and Denki are the only two who know about my birthday, so please, just don’t make a big deal?” he pleaded. Mina stared at him with lidded eyes as she contemplated the request. 
“All right. I won’t say anything,” Mina promised after a brief silence. Hanta sighed deeply in relief as she stood up to greet Tsuyu and Tooru as they came down the steps. Frowning, Hanta reclined back on his hands and stared down at the ornate stitching decorating Momo’s comforter. It wasn’t that he didn’t like big fancy parties or didn’t want his friends to know about his birthday. Hanta’d been really bummed out when the plans with his family had fallen through, and so he knew that if his friends did anything, he’d just be a killjoy because he wouldn’t be able to think about the fact it was the first year he couldn’t celebrate the occasion with his family. I’d only ruin their fun. It’s much better this way, he reasoned glumly. It was logical, but it didn’t alleviate the dull ache in his chest. 
He forced a smile on his face as Tooru skipped over to dump an entire bin of stuffed animals into the center of the pillow fort floor. I’d only ruin their fun, he repeated hollowly. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Twenty minutes later, the students were sprawled out underneath the tent of sheets stretched over the furniture, feasting on popcorn and snacks with their eyes glued to the flickering television screen. A blue glow enveloped the spacious tent, providing just enough light to see. They’d already had to duct-tape Mineta to the leg of one of the sofa’s because he’d tried to cop a feel on Momo. He’d kicked and screamed for a while, but soon contented himself with fantasizing over the two-dimensional girls running around the screen- so they’d duct-taped his mouth shut too. 
Hanta lay flat on his belly with his legs kicked up and his ankles crossed over his lower back. He watched the anime with mild interest with his mouth pressed into his forearm as his black eyes reflected the flickering images on the screen. He could dimly hear Katsuki griping at Izuku to get the giant All Might plushie out of his space and the boy struggling to maneuver the giant stuffed hero without collapsing the tent. Suddenly, the screen flicked off, and a series of affronted groans rang out in the small space. 
“Relax, relax, I’ll turn it back on in a minute!” Mina huffed as she crawled to the front of the pillow fort. “I have an important announcement.” Hanta sat up on his elbows, raising his eyebrows suspiciously at the pink girl. What is she planning…? He wondered. He jumped violently when she procured a party popper and burst it open, spilling streamers and confetti all over the place. “Happy birthday, Hanta!” 
“Happy birthday!” the group chimed, and the pillow fort rang with more exploding party poppers. Hanta flailed in shock as the metallic streamers and confetti bits rained down upon him, lobbing a few pillows around and tangling himself up in the blankets. The lamp pole clanged as he banged his hand against it, and as it wobbled precariously, the sheets dipped in a little. 
“Wh-what? Mina! What’s going on?” he whined as he rubbed the aching bones of his fingers. Mina giggled and waved the empty party popper at him. 
“Did you really think all of us didn’t know about your birthday? We were going to surprise you tomorrow, but considering the circumstances, I thought a little change of plans was in order.” Hanta blinked as Denki draped himself over his shoulders from behind to grin brightly at him. 
“Sorry that your plans with your folks fell through, dude- but did you really expect us to let you just sulk about it?” Hanta smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “Righto! Bring out the presents!” Hanta whirled around as Tsuyu and Fumikage began dragging small wrapped gifts from underneath the sofa. 
“What the-? When did you-?” 
“It’s all about misdirection!” Tooru giggled as she hugged one of her pink llama plushies. As they piled up the presents beside Hanta, the flap to the fort suddenly opened, spilling yellow light into the fort. 
“Am I late?” 
“Aizawa-sensei is in on this too?!” Hanta exclaimed in shock as the scruffy dark-haired teacher crouched down in the entrance to the fort. Mina clapped her hands excitedly. 
“Sensei, sensei, come on in!” The teacher slowly inspected the pillow fort stuffed with his students, debating his dignity. He then shrugged and shambled inside, dragging his sleeping bag with him, which made Hanta believe he was totally intending on crashing in the pillow fort to begin with. He wormed inside the sleeping bag and tossed a gift card onto the pile of gifts before zipping himself up. 
“What’re we watching?” 
“Gifts first! Come on, Hanta, let’s go!” Mina demanded ecstatically, crawling over to drop a present into his lap. Hanta laughed lightly and picked up the gift, shaking it experimentally to rattle whatever was contained within. He then paused to smile brightly, a few tears prickling in the corners of his eyes from how thrilled he was. 
“Thanks, everybody. This is the best birthday I could’ve asked for.”
“Stop being sappy and open the damn present!” Katsuki cried and whacked him in the head with a pillow. As Hanta doubled over, laughing and holding his head, Ochako began to scold him. 
“Violence is not the answer!” 
“Yeah, but it is an option,” Denki grinned devilishly. He caught Ochako by surprise with a stuffed llama to the face, making her fall over onto her back and accidentally slap Momo in the forehead. The black-haired girl cried out and grabbed a pillow to whack both Ochako and Denki upside the head. 
“Stop it! We’ll collapse the fort!” 
“PILLOW FIGHT!” Mina yelled, completely ignoring Momo’s sentiment. Suddenly pillows and stuffed animals were flying everywhere, and all thoughts of gifts were abandoned. Aizawa had retrieved the remote and was now watching the anime with much interest, completely ignoring the carnage. As Eijirou whacked him in the face, Hanta fell onto his back, cackling as he held a pillow defensively over his face. 
Mina landed on her belly beside him, face red with breathlessness and exhilaration. 
“Not bad for the Goddess of Fun, huh?” she mused, ducked as Izuku crawled after Katsuki, who’d absconded with his precious plushie. Hanta laughed and nodded. 
“Yeah, not bad at all!” Not bad at all, he repeated silently as a serene smile graced on his face. He then gripped his pillow and dove into the fray with a war cry. What better things did he have to do on a Friday night, anyway?
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
Tag List: @deliathedork​ @simplybakugou​ @lovelusional​ @wesparklebitch​
22 notes · View notes
bethhxrmon · 4 years
Text
do flowers exist at night? -chapter fourteen
Tumblr media
Chapter Fourteen: No Categories
Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC
Chapter Summary: Being stuck in detention with a few other people, it is only natural to have some sort of long-winded conversation that no one learns anything from.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Swearing, implied sexual assault, slight homophobia, probably not great writing lol
A/N: I hope you guys maybe catch the reference here?? Anyways I’d love some feed back from y’all. It you like this, you can find the masterlist here.
~*~*~*~
Getting in a car with Jonathan Byers to go to detention was not what Annie would have done with her Saturday morning if she had a chance. Still, it beat walking to detention and she knew that.
She ended up getting out of bed before Steve woke up for once. It was easier to sleep with someone next to her. Not that it ever fully got rid of all the nightmares, but it was as good as it got. So she waited until Jonathan was in her driveway before waking Steve a bit to let him know she was leaving.
"If you need me to beat up Billy for ya after, let me know," Steve murmured.
Annie kissed his nose, "You're not gonna do that, I'll be fine."
That was the goal at least. If she was there with Jonathan, then it didn't matter that Billy was there. Besides, there would be anyone else who got detention that first week back. Who knew what that could be for, but she wasn't banking on many people being there.
The car ride with Jonathan was pretty quiet aside from the cassette tape playing. If nothing else, she could say that the guy had good taste. Really, the only wrench between them was any grudge she had because he sort of played a part in Steve getting hurt. Not that it was a huge deal now. That was clearly the case considering how easily Jonathan gave up the day.
He pulled up to the school and they both stayed seated for a bit longer.
"Thanks for this... you um... I know it's probably not the way you wanted to spend today," she said, shrugging a little.
Jonathan sighed, "It wasn't, but you shouldn't have to deal with that guy alone."
With that, they both went to the school and walked straight to the library. Much to Annie's surprise, there were four other people. She recognized Billy and Carol, but wasn't completely familiar with the other two. They were both in her theater class and she knew that she would feel like an ass if she asked their names now.
Instead of the librarian running detention, it was the assistant. A man who only seemed to be a few years older than any of them. However, that meant he didn't really care what they said or did as long as they shelved the books and didn't bother him as he gossiped on the phone.
It was simple enough. Once all the shelving was done, she could just keep to herself until they could all go home. Everyone seemed rather content to do that. At least, everyone except for Billy who couldn't go five minutes without saying something to someone.
At first, all he did was talk to Carol. None of them really cared. Carol seemed to agree with him on anything he had to say, so he got bored of that easily. It was Annie's personal goal to not be a target. Though, she also trusted Jonathan to help her out if things got bad.
Though, his first actual remark was to the girl whose name Annie couldn't quite place.
"So what did you do to get detention, sweetheart?" Billy asked.
The girl side-eyed him as she shelved a book, "The name's Robin, and it's none of your business."
"Oh, come on! You're such a boring nerd, forgive me for having a hard time seeing you get into detention for any reason at all. You’re basically everything a parent could want. Boring and quiet," he said.
Annie watched as Robin sighed, "Not all of us like our parents as much as you'd think."
"Oh, you wanna trade places then? Do you wanna see what my old man did to me? His bitch of a wife didn't even bother to stop-"
"That's enough. You don't need to prove how much your life sucks," Jonathan said.
Billy approached him, "Oh, and why's that?"
"Because you'd come in last compared to all of us," Annie said, just loud enough to be heard.
It hadn't been Annie's intention to say that out loud, but now she had Jonathan and Billy staring at her. Maybe no one would take her seriously. Though, she was willing to bet every cent that her life was more difficult than Billy's since he was one of the reasons it was so hard for her to simply go to school.
"Well, what else are we gonna do here?" Carol asked, "May as well compare all our shitty lives."
Billy nodded slowly, "Okay, let's do it."
"Shouldn't we have some rules?" Robin asked.
The other boy Annie didn't know nodded, "Yeah, is this a competition? Because if we vote then we're all just gonna vote for ourselves."
"Then we just... can't vote for ourselves," Annie suggested, "I don't know."
Jonathan sighed, "Alright, who's starting us off?"
"I can. And then you'll all just understand how shitty someone's life can be," Billy said, leaning against a table, "Are you guys ready?"
Annie rolled her eyes a little, "Go for it."
"I will," he said, glaring at her, "My life's never been great. When I was a kid my mom left me with just my dad. He always beat on her and when she left, he did the same to me."
The other boy shrugged, "Everyone gets hit around as a kid."
"Shut the fuck up, dorito breath," Billy snapped.
"It's Keith, actually."
"Like I give a damn," he crossed his arms, "Anyway, my dad started seeing Susan and she had a daughter. Max was always a bit of a bitch, making my life a living hell. I got tired of her and I gave her some shit. Now, my old man didn't like that, so he said he was gonna send me to a military school."
Carol blew a bubble of her gum and let it pop, "Doesn't look like you got any military training."
"Yeah, that's 'cause I told him there was no way I was letting him just ship me off somewhere away from home. I hate him, but all the punks there would treat me even shittier than he does. See, getting beat around a bit might be normal, but I'm hit around more than a bit."
Annie couldn't help seeing red. Of all the things that he could have complained about, he had the nerve to complain about being hurt by a parent? That was supposed to justify everything he did? How could that possibly excuse what he did to those around him? She stopped listening at that point, her brown eyes giving a steely gaze at the gaudily-patterned carpet.
The only reason Annie knew that Billy was done was because Carol cleared her throat, "Come on, I can totally do better than that. You might get beaten a bit, but come on. You're more of a bitch than I am, Billy."
All of them nodded. She didn't think that he would be winning this. Not when she already knew exactly what she wanted to say. Maybe she would put on a bit of a show about it. It was hard to decide.
"Okay, so I was born in Chicago and then moved here in '72. Everything here is super lame, I feel like I should get points for a good part of my life just being too dull to document," Carol said, chewing on her gum, "Anyways, I started crushing on Tommy when we were in seventh grade. It wouldn't have been a problem, but he was dating my sister. She was a grade above us so you can't ask her now, but I just had to have Tommy."
Annie wasn't quite sure where this was going, but she felt like it was better than Billy's self-pity. Sure, his life sucked, but she would have more sympathy if he hadn't done the things he had.
Carol let out a sigh, "So, it took a bit of work, but I was able to win him over. Half the school hated me. That might still be the case, so... I guess I'm sorry? Except I'm not. Look, it's all in good fun. Doesn't matter anyways since the rest is history with me and Tommy. Except for the last year I know he's been screwing around behind my back."
"I um- I actually don't know what to do about that. Do any of you know what I'm supposed to do?"
Robin shook her head, "You dump him!"
"Yeah, I can't stand you, but you should definitely break up with Tommy. You deserve better," Annie added.
Somehow, with the knowledge that Tommy had been doing that to Carol, she felt worse for the girl than she did for Billy. Not that it was a difficult thing. She hadn't talked to Carol since the day she and Tommy were bothering her.
Jonathan sighed, "You're not the only one who's lived here a long time."
"So you're going next, Byers?" Billy asked.
He nodded, "Yeah, I'm not about to pretend like I don't have issues. Because, like you, I got beat around by my dad. So did my mom, I helped Will get out of that. Look, you and Carol are a bit more... headstrong than I am. That's just not my speed. I don't talk about that stuff much, but I know I'm the one keeping things at my  house together."
"Oh, come on. You're dating Nancy Wheeler, shit can't be that hard," Billy said.
Annie rolled her eyes, "You can be dating someone and still have a hard time. Let him go."
"Aside from everything with my parents, I think you all know about Will. I'm not gonna talk about that, but it still counts for all this shit. So, I think some of you know how outcasted I was-"
"Only because you took stalker pictures of Nancy," Carol said.
He sighed, "I know that's part of it, but you guys didn't like me before then either. She's kind of my only friend and I waited almost a year to be with her."
"Um, okay, I thought we were lab partners," Robin chimed in.
Jonathan nodded, "You're right. You're both right, but I still never feel like I belong. After everything my family's been through, I can't afford to feel sorry for myself. I have to be unbreakable, you know? Instead of giving my little brother a hard time, I try to take care of him as much as my mom would. Sometimes I wish she took care of me that much, but I know she cares. I just don't know what's gonna happen when I go to college. It's far off, but I don't wanna abandon my family."
"You're not going to. You can move on from this town when you get a chance. Nothing says that you're not allowed to come back," Annie pointed out.
Obviously she knew that there was more to Jonathan's story. He went through everything over a year ago plus the same stuff she dealt with. It sucked, but she knew that he wasn't about to tell everyone. They couldn't talk about that stuff.
There was a long pause as some of them shelved the nearly empty carts of books. No one seemed to want to go next. Annie almost contemplated on going next. Everything that she wanted to say was right there in her head whether everyone wanted to hear it or not.
Keith let out a long sigh, "Okay, I know you guys are wondering what hardship a guy like me could have."
"We don't have to wonder," Carol said, "You're a tragedy."
Robin shrugged, "Not being allowed to eat in the library isn't a tragedy."
"Neither is not being allowed to annotate books," he countered, "Well, Jonathan over here isn't the only one with the hots for Nancy Wheeler. I helped out one of her brother's friends and I was supposed to get a date with her."
Jonathan laughed a bit, "Did that actually happen?"
"Nope, nothing happened, I totally got stood up. See, she doesn't think I'm the most attractive guy."
"Wonder why," Carol said.
“She has a boyfriend, that’s why,” Jonathan countered.
Keith glared at them, "I happen to think I look great. Nancy doesn't know what she's missing, and I don't wanna hear it from the chick dating Tommy Hagan of all people."
Annie's mouth dropped open. The nerve of some of the people at this school was beyond her. She could see Robin look a bit on the shocked side as well. Though, now, she had to know where this story was headed.
"Anyways, after that failed date, I went home. It's a classic story, you know? The mediocre-looking guy loses the beautiful girl because she thought she was too good for him. So, you might ask yourself if I'm bitter about all this," he paused before shrugging, "Not really. I got to go home to my parents and our large house and my Atari. Now, that's tragic."
Billy coughed, "You gonna give us your sob story?"
"Well, I lost the girl, but I still got to dance around my room in my underwear. So, you do the math. I can still flirt with whatever pretty girls I want. I'm a free spirit and I don't have to do anything unless I want to," he looked around the room, "So I guess I don't have a sob story. Life's pretty damn great."
Carol nodded slowly, "Okay, that's one person out of the running. I'm thinking we should just get to how we're gonna vote or whatever."
"Um... hello? I've still got something to say," Annie said.
Keith looked at her, "I'm sorry, but who're you again?"
"Oh, she's the chick who's dating Steve Harrington. His rebound, ya know?" Carol said, "What could you possibly have to say that could be tragic?"
Keith shook his head, "Of all people, you had to date a douchebag?"
"Not only a douchebag, but a pussy one at that," Billy added.
Jonathan reached out an arm to stop Annie from doing anything, but she ignored it and walked up to Billy. What it was she had in mind to say was beyond her. All of it just fell out of her mouth. Any bit of anxiety was replaced by a pure, unbridled rage and it was all she could do to not electrify him to death where he stood.
"This isn't about Steve. This is about me," she said, "And you know what? Maybe there's something to be said for me not having anything to say that could top any of you."
Billy nodded, looking like he was waiting for her to admit defeat.
"Like, seriously, your lives all sound like they suck and your stories... they show that as well," she looked up at Billy, "I mean, seriously, coming so close to getting shipped off to military school for being a dick. That could have come so close to being a real problem for you. Not like something I know of that's an actual problem."
She walked over to Carol, "And, getting cheated on? A tragic yikes. Unfortunately, I've seen that happen too many times to count. Seriously, though, please dump Tommy, he's not worth it."
"And Jonathan," she patted him on the shoulder, "Having to wait a year to get the girl you loved? And then getting her at the expense of hurting someone else's heart and trust? How could you have been so wronged!"
She glanced at Robin, "I don't have your story yet, so you're good for now... but Keith, oh Keith."
He looked at her and she frowned, "Being thrown aside for how you look? Now that sounds like the actual worst. Unfortunately, I can't relate. I mean, let's be real here. I'm, like, super hot. So hot that I have a dick for a boyfriend apparently. Hm... I'm not sure if I could ever compete with you guys!"
"Oh, I think I got an idea!" she said, standing in the middle of the library, "See, my looks have always been pretty great. So great, in fact, that I've had great luck with boys ever since I was little. And even from that age I was totally aware that all guys wanna do is, well, you know."
She wiggled her eyebrows as she sat on one of the tables, "So when I was in Seattle, I was fourteen when I met Jeremy. He was my music tutor, about eighteen, he was a senior. You could say he taught me everything I know. Like, he would take me through my scales and vocalizing exercises. He put my mouth to work a lot, if you catch my drift. Had to break me in, you know? And once all that was done, he would play with my hair and tell me how pretty I was. I thought there was a connection there, something different."
"Wait, did he-" Jonathan was cut off by Annie giving him a pointed look.
"So... that fell through after, like, six months. Then there was Greg. I was sixteen, he was nineteen. He worked as the sexy secretary for my mom's law firm. Naturally, I offered to help him out," she took a breath, "He had me help out in more ways than one. I mean, he could barely wait for my mom to leave the room before getting my shirt on the floor. Still, I'm pretty sure we had a connection. It was gonna be different."
Carol scoffed, "Yeah, right."
"Yeah... it didn't pan out, so I decided to focus on school. That's how I met Dr. Lancaster, my dad's boss. You guys know about the college professor scene in Seattle, right?" there was a pause and she shrugged before continuing, "He admired my intelligence and I helped him grade papers and whatnot. There was no way that he could've gotten through the semester without me. He said that we had something special... not quite as different as I thought."
Robin's eyes widened, "You fucked a professor?"
"No, actually. My parents were starting to have problems, so we moved to New York before anything happened. Pretty cool, right?" Annie said, letting out a sigh, "It wasn't easy there. The guys sucked, everyone did. Well, aside from my dad's TA."
"We already know he’s just gonna be a dick!" Carol exclaimed, "Sorry."
Annie forced a smile, "Todd made sure that I was handling the move okay. We would hang out all the time. It was great to actually have a friend. Nothing special to it. Until we were in my dad's office and he was talking about how much he really liked me... that's fine or whatever, but then he started to force himself on me um... pinning me to the desk? My dad caught us and he's blamed me ever since. He wrote a long letter about how I'm the biggest slut he knows."
There was a pause and she took a shakier breath, "So, moving here and getting that plastered all over my locker? Not so different from what I'm used to. I mean, all guys wanna do is, well... you would know, wouldn't you, Billy?"
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"You know exactly what it means. I know what you were gonna do to me if Max didn't stop you."
"Annie," Jonathan said, giving her a warning look that she ignored.
Billy rolled his eyes, "You tried to slit my throat."
"Because you were killing Steve!"
"Only because you guys were hiding Maxine."
"Because she was scared of you, and I don't blame her," she said, her voice cracking.
He rolled his eyes, "Whatever, now you're just crying to get more points."
"The least that could happen is that I win some dumb competition about who had the shittiest life," she said, getting off the desk, "Come on, Robin, you're up."
Robin looked at all of them, "Um... you know what? I'm good. This is really what we've come to? Arguing about whether someone deserved to get their face beaten in or whatever? I don't wanna bother."
"She's just worried that her story isn't gonna be that good," Carol said, crossing her arms.
Keith nodded, "Yeah, I hate to say it, but I agree."
It continued like that for a little while, each of them inadvertently pressuring Robin into saying something. After all, they all said something that was super personal. They may as well just have Robin in the running for all this.
"Okay, fine. You guys want some sad story? I'll tell you one," she said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, "Just... a bit of context, I went to a camp last summer. Um... I met a gir- guy. We hit it off, you know?"
"What's his name?" Carol asked.
Robin sighed, "Sam, her-his name was Sam. We had something really good going, you know? It was really sweet, the way that um... that he would talk to me. I thought we could keep it up over the school year. The only problem is um... my parents, they're traditional. Like, really traditional and he was... well, he wasn’t someone they’d approve of. They found that out when he sent a photo. So I had to write him a letter and end things."
"Oh... what did you say?" Annie asked.
"I told he-him that... well, that I loved him. I loved him as much as you could love someone. That I really, really missed everything about him. I even said that if I could, I would have told my parents to screw off. As if they can choose who I love and wanna be with. I'll never be what they want, no matter how hard they try to force me into soemthing I don't want," Robin sighed, running a hand through her hair, "Of course, I can't say that to my parents... so I ended up sending that stupid letter. Is this really what we're doing, though? I have to bear my soul to all of you to win some dumb competition? I'm over this!"
There was a silence around the room before Billy piped up, "They had a point, you can't trust some people."
"I already have to hear it from my parents, so shut the hell up, Hargrove," Robin replied, shaking her head, "See, this is the type of shit that happens when we open ourselves up. It's stupid to compete for this. We'd all obviously vote for ourselves."
Annie shook her head, "I was gonna vote for your story, actually."
"Robin's right, though. Comparing everything like this was stupid,” Jonathan replied.
"It was that bitch's idea anyways," Billy said, gesturing to Annie.
She rolled her eyes, "Because you were being a dick. I didn't mean to actually have us spend this long on the subject."
Eventually, the topic dissipated, and no one cared any longer. It took a lot for them to all talk about what they had, but it clearly didn't make a difference. Annie just focused on shelving until Robin came near her.
There wasn't anyone else close enough to hear both of them, so Annie approached Robin, "Hey, um... I've got a question."
"What's up?"
"You don't have to answer, but... was Sam a girl ?" Annie asked.
Robin's eyes widened and her mouth opened.
"Wait, don't worry, I was just... I was wondering because it sounded like that. I mean, only because I kinda play for both teams, you know?"
Robin blinked, "Hold up, but you're dating Steve Harrington."
"Yeah, and? Still doesn't change the fact that in those two years I didn't mention that I was dating Penny who lived a few doors down from me."
"Holy shit, and you're not gonna tell anyone?"
Annie shook her head, "Wouldn't dream of it."
The both of them continued to shelve in silence. Though, Annie felt like there was more of a friendship between both of them. She hadn't told Steve about any of that yet. Not because she was scared of him reacting, but because she really didn't want him to just claim that he didn't believe her. That thought didn't stick around.
A couple hours later, and everyone was allowed to go back home. It almost felt like none of them had talked about anything. Maybe that was for the best.
Taglist: @dungeons-and-demodogs​ @nxncywheeler​ @ilovebucketbarnes​
6 notes · View notes
Text
Papa to the Rescue
A/N: Guess who’s back~ Back again! This blog is back~ Tell a friend!
Warnings: age regression(??? does that need a warning?), allusions to a bad childhood
Remy wasn't entirely sure when this had started. Ever since he could remember, he had wanted to be loved in a way he felt he never was. Loved in the way a parent loves their child. He knew his parents were nice. They made sure he had food and a roof over his head. But emotionally? Sometimes it felt like they weren't there. Sometimes. He snorted. Try most of the time, unless he initiated the contact.
As he grew up, he learned to push that need aside. It was something childish, and he didn't have time for childish things. He needed to be mature, he needed to be able to stand up for himself. And that's how he found himself a world of trouble in the form of Emile Picani.
Emile was an excellent boyfriend. Caring, kind, the sort of guy anybody would be lucky to have. It also seemed like he could tear away all the carefully placed covers Remy put on to make it seem like he was a mature adult. Usually it wasn't anything bad. Emile might pass him a sports bottle full of water, reminding him to drink something while he worked (that wasn't coffee). Or he might snuggle Remy longer than strictly necessary, murmuring sweet nothings into Remy's hair. Remy loved it, and that terrified him. When Emile did stuff like that, Remy finally felt cared for in the way he craved. And when that happened, Remy's mind went fuzzy around the edges, in a way that scared him the second it was gone. It was hard for him to remember specifics of what happened during that time, and he needed to know that he wasn't doing or saying anything embarrassing. To not know that...well...he didn't like it.
When one fateful day that Emile was gone, Remy was working at home until all the words he was trying to read were blurring together in a big, jumbled mess of a wall of text. He tried to focus, to the point that he was reading out loud and squinting at the screen, but the words just wouldn't sink in. The only thing sinking was his stomach, because he realized that his head was going fuzzy out of nowhere. And he had no one around to make sure that he didn't do anything stupid. He pulled out his phone with shaking hands and checked the time. Four-thirty. Emile would be wrapping things up with his final client of the day. He tried to put together the words he needed to tell Emile to hurry home, but the letters on the screen seemed like nonsense to him. The words he knew how to spell wouldn't help, and he knew this wasn't normal, he knew he should be able to type out a simple text, but he couldn't. Instead, he pulled up the emojis. He selected the warning sign, a man running, and a house. He sent it and prayed that would get his message across.
He started to cry in relief when Emile texted back. On my way, baby. Hold tight.
Holding tight was about all he could do. He pulled his feet up onto the chair he was sitting on, wrapping one arm around his legs and chewing on the other hand's thumbnail. He knew it was a bad habit, but it was this or sucking his thumb, which he knew was very much Not Allowed.
The front door opened, closed. There were rushed footsteps heading to the office, and all Remy could do was cry when he saw Emile standing in the doorway. "Remy? What's wrong?" Emile asked, walking over slowly.
Remy wrapped his arms tight around his boyfriend and sobbed into his shoulder. "Head," Remy mumbled. "Head's fuzzy."
"Oh," Emile said simply. "How long has it been fuzzy?"
Remy pulled away and shrugged. He pointed at the computer. "Words are wrong. Too much."
Emile tutted. "Did that scare you?" he asked.
Remy rubbed at his eyes and nodded. He knew it shouldn't have been scary, but it was. One minute he could read, and the next he could barely focus.
"Hey, Rem? I've been meaning to have a talk with you about your head going fuzzy before today. I shouldn't have waited, that was my bad, but I might be able to talk to you now, if you're up for it?" Emile asked, voice going soft as he put a hand on Remy's shoulder.
Remy shrugged. He really didn't know if he was up for it or not, he was tired and scared and stressed and his head was still impossibly fuzzy.
"Okay, well, we need to have this talk before I do anything else," Emile said with a wince. "So I'll try to make it simple, okay? Do you want to move to the living room?"
Remy nodded. Emile offered him his hand, and Remy hesitantly took it, and didn't let go. He trailed behind Emile, still biting his nails, a little teary-eyed. Emile sat down on the couch, and Remy followed suit. "Remy, I don't want to shock you too much, but you deserve an explanation for what's going on. You regress."
Remy tilted his head to the silent in a silent query for more information.
"Basically, your brain can't handle being an adult all the time, so sometimes it makes you act like a kid. This means that you might bite your nails, or not be able to read as well, or type. Make sense so far?"
Remy hummed his agreement.
"Now, everyone who I know who has done this does it a little differently. Sometimes, they can do it on purpose. With you, I think it happens on accident. Which is okay, there's nothing wrong with that. But during this time, it helps to have someone look after you, if possible. And if you want, I could help take care of you until you feel like an adult again," Emile offered.
"When's that?" Remy asked.
Emile winced. "I honestly don't know, Rem. You pushed this down so far that it was hard to find, and that sort of repression can hurt you, or make you regress for longer. Now it's all bubbling up to the surface, and I don't know how long it'll take for you to 'age up' again. Might be several hours, might be twenty minutes. But however long it takes, I'm willing to help you. If you want."
Remy squirmed where he sat. He had a burning question he needed answered, but words were almost impossibly hard. "...Kinda like...like a parent?"
"If you want," Emile said, placing a hand over Remy's free one.
"So...like..." Remy blinked, and blushed. "Like...you could be my papa?"
"If you want me to be, I would be honored," Emile said, placing a hand over his heart. "Do you want that?"
Remy hummed his agreement. "Never had a papa before," he mumbled. "Always wanted one, though."
Emile gave Remy's hand a squeeze, and Remy looked up at Emile. "Do you want to go to the bedroom? I have a few things in the closet which might make you feel better."
Remy made an interested noise and followed Emile to the bedroom. Emile sat him on the bed and opened up the closet. "First things first," Emile said, pulling out a sparkly gold pacifier. "We need to make sure you don't ruin your teeth or your nails."
When Emile came over with the pacifier, Remy pulled his hand away from his mouth and let Emile put the pacifier in. He gave it a little experimental suck. It felt weird, but it didn't feel wrong. It was also pretty soothing.
"All right, Rem, before I do anything else I have to ask you a kinda-sorta-maybe embarrassing question," Emile said.
"Wha'sit?" Remy asked, words slurring around the pacifier.
"Do you remember how to use the bathroom?" Emile asked, turning slightly pink.
Remy turned cherry red as he realized the implications of that question. He turned redder when he realized that the answer was no. He shook his head subtly.
"It's okay, I got stuff for that just in case," Emile said softly. "Are you okay if I change you?"
Somewhat reluctantly, Remy nodded. If they didn't know how long this went on, and he didn't know how to use the po--the bathroom, it made sense to wear some form of protection.
Emile went back to the closet, pulling out a diaper and laying Remy back on the bed. Remy buried his face in his hands as Emile got to work, pulling down his pants, and his boxers, and moved the diaper underneath him. When Emile had gently placed all four tapes in place, Remy peeked out from behind his hands. Emile smiled. "It's been a little while since I've had to do that, but I've still got it!" he said triumphantly. "Hi, baby."
Remy waved back. Emile laughed. "Do you want your pants back on?" he asked. "If you do, you should know that I'll be doing regular diaper checks."
On one hand, Remy didn't want to be running around the house in only a T-shirt and a diaper, but on the other...he really didn't want Emile to be checking his diaper regularly. "No pants," he decided.
"Okay," Emile said. "Now we can talk about fun things. Like what you want to do while you're regressed."
Remy sucked on the pacifier and just tilted his head to the side again.
"Well, I have a coloring book or two here," Emile said, pointing to the closet. "Or we could find something around the house to play with. And then, of course, we could always watch cartoons..."
Remy's eyes lit up and Emile grinned. "You know, I didn't have you pegged for that but I'm really happy you want to watch a cartoon or two with me! We can figure out which one you might want to see as soon as we figure out where...Oh! Wait! I almost forgot!" He went back to the closet and pulled out a white stuffed dog with brown ears and spots all over. Remy squealed in delight and made grabby-hands for it. Emile passed it over with a laugh. "I thought you might like that. You know what you might name him?"
That was a very good, very important question. He thought long and hard, frowning in concentration. "Coffee!" he declared, pulling out his pacifier. "'Cause the spots are brown like coffee."
Emile laughed again. "I shouldn't be surprised," he lightly teased. "Want to watch cartoons in here or on the TV?"
"Here," Remy said. He really didn't feel like getting up again.
Emile nodded and held up a finger. He left the room and quickly returned with his laptop, booting it up and pulling up all the cartoons he had saved on it. "Anything you wanna watch?"
"Um um um...I wanna see the one with the um...the gems! Yeah!" Remy nodded. "I wanna see the gems one."
Emile gave him a blank look for a second before he said, "Oh! Do you mean Steven Universe?"
Remy nodded. "Yeah! The gems one!"
Emile laughed. "You're adorable like this. Okay, we'll watch Steven Universe."
When the first notes of the theme song came on, Remy squealed again and did happy kicks. He liked the show a lot, even if he didn't see it often. Watching it with Emile made it special. He snuggled into Emile's side, and Emile happily wrapped his arms around Remy, letting the two of them cuddle. When the first episode ended, Emile just pulled up another, and Remy snuggled further into Emile, hugging Coffee close to his chest. Soon enough, he was drifting to sleep in Emile's arms.
It was a good two hours before Remy woke up again, stretching his legs. He blearily opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of their bedroom. When had he gotten here? He sat up, even more confused than before. Emile's laptop was at the foot of the bed, there was a stuffed dog to Remy's right, and to his left there was a pacifier covered in gold glitter. "What...?" he whispered. "What happened here?"
"Remy? You awake?" Emile asked, lightly knocking on the open door.
"Uh, yeah. What...what happened here?" Remy asked.
"What do you remember?" Emile asked.
"Not much. I was working...and then my head felt fuzzy...and...we watched cartoons? And I fell asleep." Remy shook his head. "What happened?"
"Uh, long story short, you age regress, you texted me near the end of the day, and I took it to mean that you needed help, came over here, gave you a simple explanation of what you were going through, got you settled into bed and we watched cartoons until you passed out," Emile said in one breath. "Um. You might...you might want to go to the bathroom."
"What? Why?" Remy asked, shifting on the bed before feeling a squish between his legs. "...Oh."
"Yeah," Emile said, clearly embarrassed. "It's one thing for me to handle that when someone's regressed. It's entirely different when they're an adult, for some reason."
"Uh...yeah," Remy said, getting off the bed, relieved to see that at least the bed had stayed dry. "Um. Is this going to happen again?"
"That probably depends on whether or not you continue to suppress this need," Emile said candidly. "Although I'm perfectly happy being your caregiver whenever you need it."
"Thanks..." Remy mumbled. "I'm gonna...gonna change now."
"Yeah," Emile said, letting Remy scurry into the ensuite with a pair of boxers and his jeans.
Remy locked the door behind him, leaning his head back. He really didn't need this as a complication in his life. It just looked like it was going to end badly for everyone involved. And yet...while he couldn't remember everything that had happened while he had apparently regressed, he knew that he had felt safe, and more relaxed than he had in a while. It was nice.
He changed, wiping himself clean with a grimace. He wasn't sure he enjoyed that particular...issue, though. No matter how relaxing "regressing" might be. Walking back into the bedroom, he found Emile cleaning up a little. As Emile picked up the stuffed dog, Remy felt a small string of panic enter his system. "Could we...uh...keep the dog out? Like, instead of keeping him cooped up in the closet?"
Emile blinked at him a moment, before nodding. "Of course. You like Coffee?"
Remy dimly remembered naming the dog that, and he nodded, blushing. "I just...think it would be nice to have him around..."
"So, do you think you'd be willing to try this again sometime?" Emile asked.
Remy considered, a little surprised at his answer. "Sure. What's the harm?"
Emile gave him a relieved grin. "Cool. And if you ever need me, like you did today, just text me, all right? I'll come home as soon as I can."
Remy nodded. "What are we having for dinner?"
"Pasta sound good to you?" Emile asked.
"Sounds perfect," Remy said. The two of them left the bedroom, heading to the kitchen. Remy quickly returned, setting Coffee against the pillows, before rushing back out to Emile. Emile gave him a knowing smile and Remy just blushed. "Shut up," he grumbled.
"I didn't say anything," Emile said with a grin.
"I know you thought it," Remy groused.
Emile ruffled Remy's hair and Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile. Emile just laughed and started to cook. Inwardly, Remy sighed with relief. Things were still relatively normal. Emile still loved him.
And Remy felt more loved than he ever had before.
Tag List: @loganpatton @lilbeanblr @kittyboof8 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @sanders-trash-4ever @hamilspntrash @swords-and-kittens @phantomfander @narniasfinestavengingsociopath  @rjmeta @ambersky0319 @anni-cat-flower @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @nafsbluebery
129 notes · View notes
eagesoldartblog · 4 years
Text
Pay It Forward Chapter Two: Coming Home
Lewis’s foot taps slowly, glowering at a scalding hot chocolate decorated with the most tacky orange color he’s probably ever seen.
His name is Arthur Kingsmen.
Counting down from ten, he calculates each breath. Each puff giving away more of the bubbling anger threatening to explode.
He’s a mechanic, the head mechanics nephew.
Thick, sweet smells muse around him. Hands tightly laced together, shaking lightly.
A generous person, he paid off your car with the blink of an eye. Grinding his teeth, the tap tap taping quickens faster and faster, relentless and angry.
And I don’t have the cash or ability to pay him back. Chewing on his cheek, he finally lets out a strained sigh.
“Are you going to keep pouting, or what?” Vivi’s voice snaps Lewis from his trance, dampening his anger at once, “Or are you still pissy mcpisserton?”
Lewis blushes, shoulders sinking, “Is it that obvious..?”
Vivi slides the tray across the table and tears into her own croissant, shrugging, “Yeah, you’re brooding again.”  
Lewis glares at her, rolling his eyes and sipping from his hot chocolate, “A bit on the nose, don’t ya think?”
“On the nose is my middle name,” Vivi smirks, gulping back her own coffee, “But legit, what’s with the sour attitude? Arthurs chill, he would have done it anyway.”
He shoots her a look, scoffing, “He would have? Are you kidding me-?”
“Wow,” Vivi interrupts him, grinning, “Didn’t take you for a financial advisor, Lewis. Or better yet, you lookin’ for a sugar daddy to help pay off your loans?” Lewis- mid sip- chokes on his hot chocolates, face burning and eyes wide.
“No. That’s no-”
“Either way you’re out of luck, he owed me a favor,” Vivi smirks, “But its cute that you think that~”
Lewis huffs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Keeping it up for... who knows how long, Vivi wasn’t counting and wasn’t about to. She leans forward, a smirk twisting across her face.
“You’re blushing, Lew Lew~”
He was. The darkened warmth across his face made it entirely noticeable that he either drank too much of his drink too quickly, or was fixated on a certain someone. Vivi was willing to bet at this point.
“I’m- I- it’s cold outside.” He tries.
“It’s actually a Mild-day.”
“There was a draft breeze.”
“And we’re no where near a window, so that was probably you~” Vivi teases, wholly expecting the less than rough warning tap against her shin.
“I mean, if it is about Artie, who can blame ya? The guys a golden ticket in disguise of a man. Plus, he’s hot-“
Lewis could blows steam from his ears with how heated his face was, “Vivi, please. It’s not a crush, I wouldn’t have a crush on someone after one meeting.” He hisses, pointing his finger at her gruffly.
Vivi could only laugh, kicking her feet onto Lewis’s lap, “You did before.”
“That was different!” Lewis snaps back desperately, “Besides, Xavier was a one time thing. I know it was funny when I fancied them-”
That guy-! Vivi burst out laughing, “Oh man, I wonder how he’s going to feel when he catches wind of you falling for a different tradesmen~”
Lewis halts, frozen in place before slapping his palms against his face. ”I’ve had enough, let’s stop talking.”
“You should fill me in on why you’re still mad.”
Lewis pops up, frowning and glaring at her, “I am still aggravated, for a few reasons. But I’m still annoyed about Arthur if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Because-?”
”Because he paid all of it.”
“Well-?” Vivi shrugs, clearly confused as she takes an obnoxious bite from her hash brown, “At least you don’t have to worry about it. That was a blessing, and then…” she trials off, shrugging, “you can probably work and pay him back if you want? Hell i'm sure Uncle Lance will hire you if you want.”
Lewis blinks, confusion consuming his features as he stares at her, “I- I’m sorry? Lance?” He says, momentarily released from his out of emotional crisis.
Vivi nearly flicks her straw- just to watch his expression turn sour when he gets hit- but decides against it, “The boss? Short mechanic, Arthur's uncle, he was under the hood while we were there-“
“Okay, yes, but- why are you calling him uncle?”
Vivi crosses her arms and stares at him.
Clattering of other people eating fills Lewis’s ears uncomfortably, and he stares at Vivi quietly.
Sweat soon beads down his face from their staring contest.
Sighing, Vivi takes a long sip of her coffee, “I’m still astounded how you managed to know no one in this town despite living here.”
Lewis thumbs his fingertip harshly, considering her words carefully, “I lived on the other side of town. Besides, my mother homeschooled me and my sisters for a little while and I started working not too long after.”
“Didn’t you also join a few sports and clubs?”
Lewis nodded weakly, realizing he completely lied, “I- yes, I did. Mostly in the summer! Or... whenever I found time.”
That's right, they bonded over their affinity for going above and beyond in every field.
No wonder she remembers what information you’ve shared. His thoughts hiss and bite, giving him the faint throb of a headache. “Now it's your turn, you didn’t answer my question.”
Vivi waves him off, “Don’t get snippy it’s bad for your skin, I was getting there.” Back to a calmer state of mind, Vivi relaxes and continues, “I’ve known Arthur a good portion of my life, and he was the smart kid in high-school, so I obviously leeched off him for support.”
she takes a long sip, somehow emitting more steam than previously. As she pulls it from her lips, the haze drifts around her face like smoke, framing it well. “We hung out most days after school and I got into Lance's good graces, he’ll warm up to you after a bit.”
Interesting, they’re friends.... maybe that’s why he paid it all off? He may fancies her- but wait, didn’t she say he owed her?
“Will he take kindly to the fact that his nephew paid off the damages?”
Vivi shrugs, “I dunno, explain it to him. He might give you the bill, or not, who knows.” She says curtly, stretching her shoulders.
Lewis nods, taking more than a moment to consider the information. But he very quickly makes his judgement on his actions over the course of the coffee date. That was wildly inappropriate! Apologize this instant.
He shouldn’t ever let his emotions run wild like that, never let them take control when control wasn’t needed.
He needed to calm down.
Taking the cup, Lewis takes a sip of the remaining hot chocolate, and swallows it slowly. Focusing on the warm nutty base and the cream of the milk, how it all accentuate one another. The lingering smooth liquid soothes the burn in his throat and Lewis releases a heavy sigh, “Thank you Vivi, I appreciate it immensely.”
And yet, his mind is stuck in the meticulous fingers combing through, followed by the stench of car oil and caked in dirt.
Stop thinking of him.
A hand falls on his bicep, and Lewis jumps up in response, eyeing her suspiciously, “Don’t worry, Lew. Just let this go, because I promise you... you won’t ever be able to pay him back.” She smiles, an edge of sadism lacing her voice and Lewis can see the tempting claws trying to ensnare him.
Don’t take the bait! His mind warns, recognizing this challenging tone that always had him off and doing the strangest of things. And yet his curiosity fights against his and demands to know every secret she has hidden behind those pink glasses. You sure are getting a kick out of this, aren’t you Vivi? “I’m sorry?”
Vivi holds her hands in surrender, but her eyes speak legions if snakes, “Arthur's really difficult to pay back, I’ll have you know. So be careful with what you do for it.”
“I don’t see how this is necessary-“ he saw where she was going and he didn’t want to be the target of her tricks.
“It’s because of your thing,” she says, referring to it like it was something forbidden from speaking aloud but all so tempting, “I know how you feel about it, but it’s really a losing battle. I would suggest you just pay it forward to someone else.”
That... was not something he is capable of doing. Lewis wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that it would rip into his skull for days if he didn’t clear his debt the instant if had been set. This man would be the death of him. Lewis figures, mentally ringing his palms to release the stress.
Lewis, noticeably more agitated and determined, looks up at her starkly, “How?”
“How what?”
“How can I get back at him?” Lewis asks, owning every amount of bitterness laced in his voice. Quirking an eyebrow, Vivi sighs and rests back, “Yeesh...” she sighs, as if it only now just occurred to her that she was friends with someone who will have the best credit score no matter what. She lets out a sigh, relenting, “Okay fine. Maybe like.... invite him over to your house for dinner? That’s the only way I can really see you getting away with it. Arthurs a serious philanthropist.”
“Dinner?” Lewis considers it, going over it in his head about three times before he steels himself with a nod, “Ah! Okay, I can probably do that.”
He could do it, which is what really mattered there. It didn’t cost much and he knows how to cook, surely he can surprise and delight the pesky mechanic.
“Just a warning, though,” Vivi begins, smirking, “Don’t let him see what your making him, or let him know how much it would cost.”
This should be interesting... “Why?”
“Because, I’m ninety percent sure he will simply forward you the dollar amount of the meal.” She shrugs, knowingly however, a story must have been brewing in her stomach, and most likely about him.
Could anyone fault Lewis for thinking that?
“Such as...?”
“To put it simply,” Vivi starts, moving through her purse for her wallet, “I once brought him over and made him this typically really traditional but kinda expensive Japanese meal. He loved it, but he looked up how much it would cost and wound up giving back the cash.” Trailing off, she hums forlorning, “By the way, want me to pay...?”
”No.” Lewis says sternly, glaring almost in his response, switching to a sweet and gentler tone in the next, “I’ll pay for it, this time, okay?”
Vivi nods, standing up and stretching, “Alrighty~ try not to go bankrupt with your tip!” She jokes.
Just because she mentioned it, Lewis made sure the tip was double the amount of the bill. Walking down the street, Lewis kept his gaze glued to the pavement. Drifting from the cracks and weeds in the sidewalk and its progression into a finer and cleaner white concrete. Freshly cut grass tickles his nose, bringing his attention to the stained glass he spent most of his life peering through. 
Finally, Lewis hums, lips pulling into a wide smile as his steps quicken into a jog, and then a run, joyfully bounding down the sidewalk. Instead of rushing in through the front and through the restaurant- something his parents made explicitly clear- he side stepped into the ‘backyard’. The dumpster is a good distance away, and lacking the usual foul smell most other disposal units had. Strange the difference his home had to the inner city restaurants Lewis notes, scanning the area quickly for any active workers, or even employees on their break. No one else was present.
Anxiously excited, Lewis skips up the back porch, taking half a second to admire the freshly blooming flowers of the surrounding gardens. 
“Mama!” Lewis eagerly opens the door, ducking through the door frame and stepping inside, he examines the kitchen. Glancing over the familiar surfaces, decorated and covered with various objects- from the mail divider over the bin to the dishes drying in the rack, to the pictures taped to the fridge with sprawled crayon from Paprika. 
“How cute,” Lewis’s hums, fingertips drifting from surface to surface. Taking note of various new magnets mixed in with the old. Such as a new addition of star magnets- which Lewis can only assume was meant to encourage them. Along the walls was a new collection of scenic imagery, such as snowy lakes and spectacular sunsets. The girls had been showing an interest in painting before he left, hadn’t they? He’s only glad they decided to pursue it.
A bubbling draws his attention to the stove. Ah, someone must be here then, Lewis smiles, lifting the lid and peering into the boiling pot. 
A gasp, “Lewis?”
Papa flies into view, head jutting past the wall, a tired but excited look in his eye. A basket of ripe fruits and veggies is quickly discarded on the table, just before Lewis is pulled into a hug. Hard kisses pressed against his face all over, a squeal rupturing in his ear.
“Lewis! I’m so glad to see you!”
To say he didn’t expect this would have been a bold faced lie. Wrapping both arms around him, Lewis hoists his father up.
“I miss you too,” he says, gaze drifting to the basket of freshly picked veggies and back to the pot, “Is Mama here?”
Papa draws back, lips tight and panic drawing over his face, “She left a moment ago, to go see where you were-!”
Oh no. Its Lewis’s turn to panic, “Ah- is this about the car…?” he tries, wary.
And he was right to be, Papa’s expression shifts, a grimace etched into his face. He steps back, both hands on his hip, and stares at Lewis expectantly, “Not exactly, we were more concerned on why you had taken so long to come back.” Oh, yes that would explain the frequent calls the past few days, only received in remote parts of the area. Lewis stiffens, seeing more just on the brink of his fathers tongue, “But, while we’re on the subject, I would like you to explain yourself.
Lewis sighs, “Vivi and I were taking turns driving, and she fell asleep behind the wheel. We didn’t want to keep you all waiting another night…”
The grimace grows tenfold, “We could understand if you needed to stay the night somewhere, Lewis.” His tone is even more so irate, closer to exasperation. Before Lewis could apologize again, Papa fished his phone from his back pocket, “Give me on sec- Hello darling!”
Lewis watches him trail out of the kitchen, smiling cheerfully and speaking clearly to Mama- “Yes, he just arrived.. yes, it was a sleeping accident.”
Resigning to the night of scolding he will most likely receive, he sighs. Just as a smaller presence creeps up behind him.
“Hi Lewis,” shove, Lewis stumbles a small bit, head whipping back to see a slightly taller version of-
“Belle!” His arms open to scoop her up in a hug- but her arm waved him away.
“Give me a minute.” She hisses under her breath, “Mom’ll be home soon, I gotta make sure this gets done.” Coughing into her arm, she sends Lewis a look, “Uh.. how was school?”
The twinge of awkwardness that seems to completely surround him makes Lewis hesitate. His mouth opens for a short moment, but quickly closes, “It went well. I’ll elaborate more later, would you like some help?”
“No, I’m fine.” He’s shut down faster than he thought he would. Huh, since when did she become so irritable? Perhaps teenage hormones..? He remembered being bad when he was small, … for the most part.
Shifting away, Lewis shuffles out of the kitchen, not wanting to give himself a chance to dwell on the ambiguous and faulty memories he always had, “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. If you need anything, I’ll be here.” Barely getting a mhm in response, Lewis sighs and slinks off to his room.
His room is clean, completely dusted and the bed made perfectly. Everything was in it’s perfect place - Surely his mother’s doing. Taking it in, Lewis could hardly tell that it was still his, considering the one he had in the dorm rooms- plain white walls with two crosses, while his desk took the brunt of his anxiety and stress.
But here? It seemed as if it was just as carefree as he was before he left. Leaving Lewis with a ball of awkwardness welling inside his stomach. That, or anxiety, considering his Mother will be home soon. With enough scoldings to boot.
Grimacing, Lewis falls against his bed, collapsing against the pillow. He missed them a lot.
In retrospect, driving like that was far from safe, and it would have been much better to stay the night somewhere. He would’ve come home the next day to hugs and kisses and an attempted pat on the head, and then he would be able to focus on what was truly important.
Not… Arthur.
Scowling, Lewis twists himself over and folds the pillow over his head. Squeezing wouldn’t do a thing at all, he knew that! Repeating to himself that he needs to pay more attention to his family, his studies, and not a mechanic who shamelessly paid off his entire car bill an-
Gosh… darnit. Sighing, Lewis shoves the pillow aside, biting his lip and sagging even more. He missed them, dearly even. A pang of guilt hitting him. How on earth did he forget about his parents, his family? He was thinking of them the entire way back and for a majority of the semester, and then they slip his mind from a single encounter with him-
Lewis physically cringes.
Perhaps he should make something, as an apology for them. At the very least his parents. That car was under their name, and yet he went and smashed it.
And yet, for one reason or another, he offered to help. And then did, with no input from him on the matter.
Who was he…?
There’s a tornado of thoughts swarming his brain, each one revolving around him. The one person he didn’t want to think about anymore.
Arthur Kingsmen, a mechanic working under the head- who in turn was his uncle. He has a reputation of extreme charitability and generosity, doing things that astounded others in how much it helped, with little self benefit. An admirable trait, he’d admit. A trait that grew increasingly more infuriating for Lewis. Even if that hardly made sense.
Even more nonsensical- Arthur claimed it was because he came from a good family. What did that mean? Was he well acquainted buddy of his parents that he missed? Someone new who spent a lot of time with them while Lewis was away? A stalke- No. That’s just ridiculous, Lewis. Don’t demonize him for helping you. The angel on Lewis’s shoulder yelled.
He’s just a nice guy.
Laying back, Lewis mindlessly stares at the ceiling. Going back and forth on what was wrong with him right now? He doesn’t normally get so fixated on people, and never really for anything that made him angry! Small crushes, fascinating professors- even Vivi was the apple of his eye when he first met her. So why Arthur? Because he essentially took a huge debt of his shoulders? …. Anyone would be thrilled for this, and yet it detested him. Preposterous!
Just be thankful that you’re home, Lewis. When mom comes home, you and her will have a talk, and then you can spend as much time as you want with your little sisters. Father and Belle must have missed him, and yet he’s holed up in his room.
Sliding off his bed, Lewis creeps closer to the door, hyper aware of the creaks of the floor, and even more aware of the small sounds outside of his bedroom door. You shouldn’t be this nervous. Lewis reminds himself again and again, resisting the urge to press his ear to the door to listen for anything out of the ordinary. Lacing his extraordinarily large fingers around the doorknob, he gently opens it and steps out, padding down the hall to the living room.
Belle is lounging on the couch, engrossed in the documentary on physics she was watching (How interesting!) whilst glancing to the kitchen every few seconds.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Lewis glances up to the clock, and back down at her. A thought bubbling suspiciously, “Belle, what are you doing home? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Belle flinches at his voice, a similar attribute she kept over the year, and twists around to look at him. Hm, and he thought Cayenne was the only one with an attitude.
She responds bluntly, “I had a fever last week, so they haven’t let me leave the house.” With that, she stands up and stretches dramatically, adding, “I’m only cooking because I’m hungry. I managed to convince Papi to let me buy some ramen~ so I’m going to enjoy trashing my stomach.”
“Huh, and I thought I had a drop in diet quality.”
Belle spins on her heel, the smallest pout in her face as she walks in, “Ya, sure. Makes sense that the good and holy Lew- Lew only made sure to get the HEALTHIEST of food. And Horton hears a bitch-ass liar.” the last of it comes out in a flurry of a whisper.
Gasping, Lewis spins his head around to see if his Papa was standing over their shoulders, just in case. Although for her to be saying that, they had to be in the clear. “I could smack you, Belle.”
”Do it.”
There was no way he could simply go and smack his little sister.
But he can to a brat.
He follows after her, ducking under the archway, and quickly bops her cheek. Not enough to hurt badly, but similar enough time show that he isn’t accepting of those words out of her mouth. Belle, not turning away from her pot of instant garbage noodles, slams her elbow back into him- tries to at least.
“Hey-!”
Lewis smirks back at her, filling a glass with water and sipping lightly, “What? You earned it.”
Face twisted, Belle opens her mouth like she was about to retaliate, but slumps with a huff, “I was hoping college would eradicate your third parent syndrome. That’s suppose to be my thing.”
“The only reason it wasn’t was because I didn’t want you to grow up too quickly,” Lewis admitted, shrugging, “Besides, I still am your older sister.”
“Sometimes,” Belle points out, and it looked like she was ready to point something else out before Lewis patted her head in a completely patronizing way.
“On weekends and some Wednesdays,” Lewis chuckles, “regardless, I have a guilty conscious if I don’t ever help out.”
“Well you took away our jobs around the house.” Belle says, tearing open the packet of powdered broth, “You want bratty sisters, Lewis? That’s how you get em.”
“Well, Mama will be there to ensure that doesn’t happen.” Lewis takes another sip of his drink to hold up the air of “sophistication” as Belle rolls her eyes.
And right on cue, the door opens, familiar footsteps walking in and an air of dread slamming Lewis directly in the stomach. “Mama-!” He rushes past Belle, who he faintly heard mention that he’s in trouble~ as he went in and faced the beast.
The piercing gaze is the only that stops Lewis in his tracks, and any apology he had in his throat, now uncomfortably sitting in his throat.
“Good morning, Lewis,” She hangs up her purse, expression stony, only shifting to a soft smile as she wrapped his arms around him, “I missed you.”
Frozen, Lewis took a moment to adjust to the sweet gesture, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, “I missed you too, Mama.”
“Now sit down,” Her expression turns a silvery cold, and Lewis knew in the way she distances herself that he was in trouble. Complete with folded arms and a signature glare.
Any apology he had suddenly felt inadequate.
“Would you like to have this conversation in your room?” His mother asks coldly, and Lewis barely notices that her knuckles were almost bulging from how tense they were.
“Uh-“ he stumbles, more stiff than he has been in his entire life, meekly murmuring, “my room, please.”
“Follow me.”
Lewis could have sworn he was walking to his death bed. The walk was nearly a blur, and he could only imagine what she would say when they finally closed his bedroom door.
“Sit down, let me get a proper look at you.”
… That wasn’t exactly it, but close enough.
Lewis ungracefully plops down on his bed, ruffling the blankets and clenching his knees tightly together. Hands unsurely moving from squeezing the fabric or his own fingers. Eventually he settled for clasping his hands together. Slouched- until Mama gave him a look.
Hands press against his cheek, fingers drifting from his cheekbones to his forehead to his chin in a way that’s both intensive and gentle. One of her palms holds his jaw and face steady, while she scanned every part of him delicately.
He was expecting a stern talking to, not… not this. Surely he earned a punishment for his irresponsibility, and yet she’s looking him over like she looked over Cayenne and Belle whenever they took a tumble in their earlier years. The shock must have been evident when she began prodding his knee. Mama quirks an eyebrow.
“Yes, Lewis? Is something the matter?”
Lewis stumbles over his words, “A-.. I just- I didn’t think you..”
The corner of her mouth curls into a smirk, and she pays his hair, “One of my children got into an accident- a severe one at that. I’m only doing what is right,” Her face softens a tad, before taking a seat beside him, “Since you haven’t been escorted to the hospital, I wanted to make sure nothing else was wrong. No pulled nerves? Any sprains? I would like to know now so that way we can ensure you live happily.”
He shouldn’t be as moved (and confused) as he was. Of course. Of course she wanted to make sure he was okay! A twang of regret and guilt for doubting her twitches in his stomach, along with a plethora of unsavory emotions.
Then, with a sigh of what Lewis can only assume is relief, she continues, “Your father informed me what had happened. That you came home sleep deprived to see us faster. Is that correct?”
No matter what he said, the guilt burrowing in his stomach would worsen. He nods, haphazardly, “That’s partially true. Vivi was sleeping a majority of the way and she offered to drive home. But while I was asleep, she had fallen asleep behind the wheel.” The more and more he recounts this, it feels like he was accusing her more and more. With that in mind, he quickly tacks on, “Of course- she did suggest that we stop and sleep, but I figured it would have been easier to drive the final stretch-“
Mama nods solemnly, pressing her fingers against her lip- something she did when she was lost in thought- “I see. If that is the case then I’m glad to know that only that car was damaged and neither of you two.”
Gripping the sheets, he waits for her eventual added answer, there always was one. Something to reaffirm her suspicions or what Lewis could do as “punishment”.
Finally, she stands up, not before turning to him, and he faintly recognizes the glimmer in her eye, “I’d like to hear that this never happens again. And while it is being graciously handled by Arthur, I’d like you to extend your help to him for the remainder of your break.”
”What-?” he says breathlessly, shoving himself up. Wait- how did she-?
Mama quirks the smallest smile, “Well, considering he is going out of his way to ensure you will still have a vehicle before you return to school, I believe it is the least you can do to make it up to him.”
He stands there dumbfounded, hands hovering in front of him like he was about to grab something. Unamusedly, Mama watches him carefully.
“Yes? Is there an issue, Lewis? Offering your assistance for the summer is a suitable enough repayment, even more so now that he is helping you like this.”
“How-? How did you kn-“ she must have spoken to him, of course she would know that he is both paying off his car bill, as well as- “I mean.. you’re- you’re okay with him doing that?” He asks finally, tripping over his words.
“Of course I am,” she said matter of factly, flicking her finger to have him follow her out, “I figured he would have done something like this when he called. He’s always been this way.”
“Yes- but he’s a total str-“
“Speaking of Arthur,” she either didn’t catch what he was about to say, or elected to ignore it, turning to him pointedly, “You have thanked him for his generosity, correct?”
“Well- I-“ Lewis’s head swam with more thought than he could tread through, “Of course I did, but-“
She nods curtly, making her way to the kitchen, “Perhaps you can do so again when he comes over later.”
Coming over when? Lewis freezes, eyebrows knitting anxiously, “What?”
“Yes,” she responds smoothly, brushing a hand over Belles head and going into the kitchen, “I was going to bake him something for him. Have him over tonight. We were all planning for you to be home tomorrow, so nothing is fully prepared yet. However, it would be nice to have a friend over before that.”
A friend? Since when? He wanted to ask, but his words catch in his throat, and she’s already positioned in the kitchen beside the sink, clearing away the dirty dishes that had accumulated.
She glances over at him, nodding to the covers, “Please pull out the flour and eggs for me?”
Lewis did as he was told, blankly as he combs through his thoughts for an excuse- or anything that would soothe the anguish rushing over him in pounding torrents.
“... I’m still concerned on why he did it..” he admits, pulling out a large bowl to pour the necessary materials, “I don’t know why! He just- said he would pay it off..” he bites his lip, unsure if he had the mere right to say this after his mother sung the mans praises, “I’m honestly peeved over it.”
Mama straightens as he said that, pursing her lips, “Why is that?”
“I just.. I don’t know why he did! It was far from necessary.” Arthur wasn’t his friend. The two didn’t know each other. Although it was apparent his parents knew him, all the more startling. Mama didn’t respond, humming.
Glancing over his shoulder, Lewis chews on his lip, knowing fully well that she was aware of his peculiar issues.
“Perhaps prepare him something. Cake.”
“Cake?” Would he even like that..?
“In fact,” his mother continues, maybe having noticed his odd and troubled expression, “I’m sure he would appreciate anything from you, even if it was a rock.”
Lewis frowns, picking through his thoughts, “Then-.. what flavor do you think he’d like?” He asks, only to get a shrug in return- something his mother never did.
“It’s been a long while, so I’m unsure.” She said, turning to him with a faint smile decorating her face, with the smallest hint of mischief, “Would you like to take over preparations?”
Three seconds pass, but Lewis had to take one look at her face to know that she wanted him to make it. Sighing, he nods, “Sure. I can do that. Any idea what time he would arrive..?”
Mama smiles, and steps past him, pulling vanilla extract from the covers, “He gets off work at around six, so I wouldn’t doubt it that he’d arrive anywhere from half after until eight.”
Glancing at the clock, Lewis nods. He had plenty of time. At least he could make up for the damage.. in the little ways he could.
What sort of cake should he make then..? Lewis runs over the various types of cake, humming to himself. Vanilla, chocolate, banana, pumpkin, red velvet, carrot, marble, coffee..
Carrot, popping into his mind like the mechanic himself, Lewis could only frown at how the thought refused to settle. Imagining how well it seemed to match the pesky mechanic.
He better like it. Lewis nearly hisses, Or so help me god.
A laugh pulls Lewis out of his thoughts, drawing him back to his mother leaving the kitchen, “You’re lucky your father hadn’t begun preparing anything with the oven, Lewis. Now while you’re doing that, I’ll be leaving to pick up your sisters.” For barely a minute, he wondered if Vivi would taunt him for his apparent lie of his sisters needing to be picked up from “school.” But before he could think of an ‘excuse’, (more like explanation that his abuela was their teacher)
But with the shut of the front door, Mama was gone. Leaving him with his task.
Taking a deep breath, Lewis set off to work.
20 notes · View notes