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#why burn your dad when you can roast him instead
driftingvoid-155 · 2 months
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William: “has any one ever told you you look ugly?”
Mike: “they mostly just tell me I look like you.”
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bigskydreaming · 2 years
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@destefaniart Yup, “In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil” is definitely Court of Owls related. Its literally just using that series’ AU setting and family dynamics with the premise: 
What if the Batfam found out about the Court’s existence and plans for Dick before the Court ever tried to make a move on him, based purely on fifteen year olds Jason and Cass watching Court members be skeevy around their older brother at galas and being like...mmm, don’t love whatever’s going on over there. I sense Evil afoot.
(The following is just some off-the-cuff dialogue along those lines, but not actually likely to be the actual dialogue I go with because the character voices aren’t quite what I’m aiming for Jason and Cass to actually sound like in this. I’m mostly just being goofy for the LULZ at the moment. But like. You get the gist).
Jason: I do not care for their vibes, sister. 
Cass: Samesies.
Jason *spluttering*: Samesies? SAMESIES? Did you not hear the intonations I put in that? The gravitas? You couldn’t just like....match my energy, nooooo, you had to go and fucking derail by being like ‘ha ha, samesies, tee-hee’ which by the way, is something I have literally NEVER heard out of your mouth before now and I somehow doubt I will ever hear you say again...ugh. God, would it KILL you to just follow my lead for once?
Cass, regarding her dramatic-ass brother with all the gravitas he wanted before: Yes. I could die. Would you like that? Do you want me to die?
Jason: ....what?
Cass: I see. I would literally die for you. For our brother. But me? I can die. You’d be fine. Ideal, even. Good to know.
Jason: What is happening right now.
Cass: Learning I love you more than you love me. Its fine. Why? What’s up with you?
Jason: Why are you like this?
Cass *shrugs and stares deeply into her flute glass of sparkling apple cider as though its a scrying pool that contains the answer to his question, which is now suddenly the most important question to ever be asked and/or contemplated*: My parents are bad people. That could be it.
Jason snorts, the mood broken: Oh please. My dad’s an ambulatory piece of shit with just enough of a credit history to trick society into thinking he came out of a womb instead of a public toilet. You ain’t special.
Cass *shrugs*: Knew it wasn’t going to land. Figured I’d commit anyway.
*both pause to soak in the sudden uncomfortableness*
Jason: Right! So! How do you want to play this? Should we just skip straight past the awkwardness to an abrupt subject change and pretend neither of us ever dropped the dreaded ‘p’ word? Or we could do the whole ‘mine are worse’ ‘no mine are worse’ thing until we make a scene that ends with Dick assuring us its not a competition and we can both have shitty parents while getting that weird pinched expression where its like he can’t decide whether he wants to apologize for having good parents or like, pat us on the head for having terrible ones? That’s always fun.
Cass, nodding thoughtfully: I do enjoy that. I shouldn’t. But I do.
Jason, bumping her shoulder with his: Eh, don’t feel too bad. He gets the same look when Bruce burns toast and Dick can’t decide if he wants to roast B for it or apologize for being a functioning adult who can safely use a toaster without having the fire department on standby just in case.
Cass: Also very funny.
Jason: Exactly. Sides, its not like its your fault. I mean, how do we know you finding that funny ISN’T because your parents are shitty people?
Cass, eyeing him with the dubious air of someone who WANTS to believe, but is well acquainted with her brother’s brand of bullshit: I laugh when our brother gets the awkward look where he doesn’t know whether something’s just sad or something he should feel bad for.....because my mother kills people for money.
Jason, spreading his arms as if points were actually just made: Can you prove there’s for sure NOT a connection there?
Cass: People are right. You do use that too much.
Jason, who has never backed down in his life and for damn sure isn’t about to start right now: And you know who’s fault that probably is?
Cass, with eyebrow raised: Your dad’s?
Jason, triumphant: EXACTLY. Its not my fault the math all checks out.
Cass: Right. Its math.
Jason: Yup. Can’t argue with math. The only empirical truth of the universe. I mean, could you imagine if you tried to say math led you astray? Bruce might actually cry.
Cass: Are you done?
Jason, pausing to consider. Yeah, I can be done.
Cass takes a deliberate chug of her drink, eyes watching her brother the whole time as if just waiting for him to reverse course and pick right back up.
Jason: Hey wait a second. People say I use that too much? What people?
Cass *shrugs*: People.
Jason: Well what people are talking about me? Are they talking about me TO you? What do they say? Are you defending me at least?
Cass, after a pause: Sorry. I lied. No people were talking. Definitely not about you.
Jason, narrowing his eyes: Why don’t I believe that?
Cass shrugs: Because I just told you I lied?
Jason: Ugh, no, not about that, I don’t believe you about lying.
Cass squints: I lied about lying?
Jason: Yes. That.
Cass: That’s weird. Why would I do that?
Jason: I DON’T KNOW.
Cass: Well if you don’t know how should I know?
Jason: You’re doing that thing again.
Cass: Now you’re lying. I never do things. I’m a thinker, not a doer. My therapist even said so.
Jason, rolling his eyes: That’s because you’re a demented little chaos monster who pathologically lies to your therapist just so you can giggle at Bruce’s face every time she comes back with increasingly niche diagnoses for stuff you read about on WebMD.
Cass: Bruce said I needed more hobbies!
Jason: Yes, and manipulating your therapist into basing an entirely absurd and completely off-base CASE STUDY on you is what he meant.
Cass, the unrepentant: He should have been more specific.
Jason: She’s going to publish only to be completely discredited and then laughed right out of her tenure isn’t she.
Cass, shrugging: I don’t know how tenure works.
Jason, eyeing her sternly: Don’t you think that a) there’s a chance this might have gotten a LITTLE out of hand, and b) you should be at least a LITTLE concerned that I of all people think this is a bad idea?
Cass: Why do you get to be the only one with bad ideas? My parents are bad people too! Math!
Jason: Eww, stop making me see the error of my own ways! I’m too young to repent!
Cass, rolling her eyes now: I’m only doing it because she’s a terrible person who shouldn’t be allowed to work with children who can’t tell when she’s being secretly judgy while saying things that would make them feel bad if they couldn’t tell she doesn’t really care about helping them like I can.
Jason: So you’re saying.....this is all just because she’s actually a danger to the people she’s supposed to be helping, and you’re only doing it for the greater good.
Cass: Mostly for the greater good.
Jason: Cass!
Cass: Its not my fault its still funny!
Jason groans. He’s so not cut out to be the responsible sibling. It feels gross. How does Dick do it all the time.
Cass, exasperated: Jason. She thinks I have an imaginary friend.
Jason: What? Why the fuck does she think that?
Cass blinks: I told her I did.
Jason groans again.
Cass: She didn’t have to believe me!
Jason: Why didn’t you just tell Bruce the real reason you don’t like her and let him deal with this?
Cass, hotly: I’m not a QUITTER.
Jason: You get how absurd you’re being right now right? This is ME. Judging YOU. For YOU being the absurd one here!
Cass: Your last therapist was convinced you were a pyromaniac!
Jason jabs a finger at her: Hey! That is NOT the same! ONE time, I said ‘fire pretty’ as a JOKE, and he just leaped to conclusions!
Cass: You started a fire. In your room. That same night.
Jason: That was an ACCIDENT! 
Cass crosses her arms. Judgmentally.
Jason: He was being RIDICULOUS and it was totally ridiculous that Bruce just like, BELIEVED him because like ‘he’s a professional Jason, he knows how to do his job,’ as though the fact that I can literally LIE TO HIS FACE about secretly being fucking ROBIN in session after session wasn’t kinda a big red flag that maybe the dude’s not that GOOD at his job, y’know? But you show B enough diplomas on a wall and he’s like ah excellent, an expert, like people don’t BUY their way through school all the fucking time and I was just TRYING to make Bruce see how ridiculous it was to think this guy had ANY clue what he was talking about by being like hey, look at all the super flammable and incendiary stuff I have just readily available throughout my room, and yet surprise! No fire! Could a pyromaniac do that?!
Cass: And then a fire started.
Jason: Yes, obviously, but only on ACCIDENT.
Cass: From all the super-flammable and incendiary stuff you accidentally had in your room TO start fires.
Jason: Okay, see, I feel like you’re not getting it.
Cass: That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.
Jason: Oh great, now I’m getting judged by Miss Watch Me Gaslight My Therapist Into Losing Her Job By Writing About How Not Normal I Am, With This Of Course Being a TOTALLY NORMAL THING TO DO
Cass glares at him. Jason glares at her. 
Cass: This is why Bruce is so sure we need therapy, isn’t it.
Jason: Can we agree that he can never know that we’ve come to understand why he’s concerned, and that making us go might not actually be the worst thing he’s ever done to us?
Cass: Obviously.
Jason: Great. Now to distance ourselves from this uncomfortable self-awareness as quickly as we possibly can, let’s jump tracks: where did we land on those creepers talking to Dick and how we feel about their vibes?
Cass: The vibes are rancid. 
Jason: Awesome, we’re still on the same page. And this leads us to conclude that the owners of the rancid vibes give Major Skeeve and we do not like and or trust them or their skeeviness right? 
Cass: Duh.
Jason: So in conclusion, rancid vibes, skeevy dudes, probable evil afoot. At the very least, insidiousness. We should definitely investigate further.
Cass: Yes. There will probably need to be punching.
Jason: Any particular reason, or because you just want to punch them?
Cass: *hesitates* Sure.
Jason: I am so uncomfortable with this inverted dynamic wherein I am the voice of reason and also moderation. Are we done yet? Is opposite day over?
Cass, rolling her eyes: Fine. Minimal punching. And I won’t even enjoy it even if they are evil and my parents are still bad people and math said it was okay.
Jason: See? There we go. And Bruce thinks we need therapy. Hah!
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joytraveler · 1 year
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66. Planet of Pisces II
Syrupentine: I know you're drawing out the tension but come on, it's staring us right in the face! Llord_Kuruku: planet of pisces 2, part 2, the clone wars Klickitat_Street: I hope this isn't where the games start to repeat, that last one kind of sucked
"Mmp, caffeine." Bea just finishes the last of her coffee. "Time for Bea's coffee reviews. This is dark roast. It's very bitter, just like me. Well that's the show, thanks for coming by everyone"
HNV: Oh good, Bea's doing impressions of obsure Phoenix Wright characters
"Wait I am? Who are you.. oh, uh YEAH yeah, good reference huh? Anywho.." With her nerves steadied, its time to move on. "POP2, 2! It's two pops, it's twice as many dads, you have to save BOTH your dads this time and they're in opposite corners of the universe! It's very inconvenient."
The new Planet of Pisces 2 starts with a familiar-looking house appearing on the title screen, pink and blue in the rising sun! This title screen is much more dramatic than the other one, with the title and the Roman numeral 2 fading in slowly as the sun rises, tranquil music playing.
HNV: Hey that's the house they built at the end of POP1! Syrupentine: Hey that's the house from Last Of Them All! ... HNV: Jinx? Partly? TaichouSenseiKun: Holy shit I think its both Baconnaise: We have continuity. except not really cause things aren't all ruined yet wait which comes before the other Syrupentine: Now I have a weird tummy feeling because I didn't realize Last Of Them All didn't take place on Earth
When the game begins, a new screen appears but with familiar sprites: it's the kids from Last Of Them All, but this is a character-naming screen!
"Oh we're naming him Glem this time, I'll show you who's dead, game!" The default name on the screen is GUREMU, but Glem fits in even easier
berd_snurglar: damn bea show some respe- oh
A star appears when she types in the name, looks like Glem approves!
HNV: What were the other kids' names? There was Zark and Morg and the baby was something Glockroach: Narp, Grunk, and Splongus. Splongus was always my favorite aroseahorseboy: someday we will learn why joyce named all her babies after stomach noises
When Bea has named all the kids, the game begins proper, irising in on the house... and it was indeed the house from Last Of Them All. The second floor layout is the same, the family is the same! The only difference is that this time, instead of 'Zoku', she's playing Glem.
TaichouSenseiKun: Glem inherits the burning fighting spirit and hair of his mother
First things first, Bea tries talking to the other family members in turn! Glem's little brother Renk is playing with a truck downstairs. "Is there gonna be a special breakfast or are we gonna eat at the carnival?"
berd_snurglar: something smells Renk am i right folks, hah thank you
The twin brothers, Zork and Marg, come tumbling down the stairs wrestling with each other, just like the last time they were seen. "Glem! Go get mom and dad!" "Yeah, Glem! Go get dad and mom!"
"This is before we go to the carnival and get sent back in time! Gotta go get the folks again... HEY MA GET UP, it's Glem. Not dead anymore, feeling pretty good today actually!"
Mom and Dad are asleep in their room, and all Dad will say, just like last time is "mmm... ask your mom."
But Joyce wakes up and says. "That's right, it's your big day! We're going to enter your invention in the contest at the fair! Are you excited?"
Whether Bea chooses YES or NO, Joyce's answer is the same. "You should be very proud of yourself even if you don't win! But i'm sure you will, yours is the best I've ever seen, especially from a boy your age!"
"Ohh, the discus! Yes, mother, you have NO idea, do you.." No more questions asked, she's off to the fair.
"An invention convention in *this* universe should be allll kinds of crazy, maybe I can buy a time machine and it turns out I'm the caveman from the other game"
Before Glem gets back downstairs, the tiny little girl, Rikel, meets him at the head of the stairs and gives him a big hug! "I hope you win, Glem!"
Bea does a deeper, heroic voice. "I won't let my family down! We're gonna win this thing! And go on to invent a whole planet!"
Syrupentine: I'm jealous of Joyce. I want a son like Glem. :_: aroseahorseboy: god damn it mom i try my best *sob, run away*
Back on the bottom floor, Joyce is already down there making breakfast for the family, who are sitting at the kitchen table. When Bea talks to her, she says, "Almost ready. Get the paper before your father comes down, OK?"
Baconnaise: This IS a sequel, right. HNV: What's weird is that we played the original, then a spinoff of the original, and now we're playing the sequel, but we already played... a spinoff... of the sequel? Wait, I confused myself.
Out the front door is a perfectly lovely-looking front walk and lawn. Bea walks Glem down the front walk toward the newspaper. "Got the Newspaper!" says the message box.
But the game doesn't resume from there-- instead it slowly, seemingly pixel by pixel, begins to scroll to the right, the message box itself scrolling off the screen.
Glockroach: Its the devil guy from Smash Trophy the one who moves the screen, dont question me TaichouSenseiKun: BEA RUN THE SCREEN WILL GET YOU DueyDecimal: You mean the Devil from Devil World, featuring Tamagon, the character whose trophy was excised from Melee in the United States? aroseahorseboy: yes duey him
When Glem himself is almost scrolled off the screen, we see the next house over, which has a white van parked in front of it.
Almost as slowly as the scrolling, something begins to emerge from the window not facing the camera.
aroseahorseboy ...is that a fucking rifle
"Oh here's somebody's crime van, definitely. What kind of neighborhood is GLEM NO!!" She shouts, unable to help herself!
The gun fires; the same loud 'bang' they heard in Last Of Them All is heard. The screen scrolls back to Glem, who is still holding up the newspaper.
Glem turns around, and takes two steps back to the house, before falling over.
"FFFFWHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT?!" Is all she can get out amid a bout of upset sputtering.
aroseahorseboy: who the fuck made this HNV: What happened to his head?! Glockroach: someone seriously made a game about a little boy getting shot berd_snurglar: bea. glem died and it was your fault
"SHUT UP BERD its not over yet, this is the opening!" She says, hammering on the control pad as if it will help move the scene along faster.
The only animation is Glem's head-- the rust-colored smear that was once his head-- seeming to quiver like crackling static.
Then the door finally opens again. Rikel comes out. She runs out to see what's happened, and then returns to the house.
The screen fades to black, except for the familiar words, that they kept seeing over and over, seemingly by accident.
aroseahorseboy: ahem FUUUUCK THIIIIS GAAAAME Baconnaise: God damn it Bea DueyDecimal: Was this all a cinematic? Could you have dodged that even?
"I didn't know!! all right, Duey's right, we missed something didn't we.."
Llord_Kuruku: maybe you should have played all the games that came before?? Or after???
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finelinevogue · 3 years
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I don’t have a specific request but I just really want to read another Little Moments blurb. Wether they’re teens or babies, I just love them. Have a great day!!
you have a great day toooo!! ok we can definitely do this!! there’s so many adventures they go on that i want to write about, but for now i hope you enjoy this blurb of the family going out for a pub meal;
oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16
It was family-night-Friday.
Well, actually, it was yours and Harry’s anniversary and supposedly date night, but your children had decided you’d all go out for the evening to celebrate instead. Whilst you were delighted over the idea of spending the night with your family, Harry wasn’t. He now, quote-on-quote, ‘can’t finger you under the restaurant table’, which is why he’s now in a sulk.
Chuffing man-child.
“Dad, can you at least pretend to look happy to be with your family?” Belle teased Harry, as you were all in the car on the way to the pub you were booked in for.
Harry was driving and Oli was sat in the front, since his legs were extremely long - a bit like his dad - to fit in the back. Unfortunately Felix got the short straw and had to sit in the back with you and Belle, Belle sitting in the middle as she was the smallest. Whenever you came to a red light Harry’s hand would slink behind his seat and dangle itself until you caught it with your hand and gave it a squeeze. It was the little moments like these that made you grateful for your family. For Harry.
Harry smiled and you knew it was real, because it reached his eyes, however he made it seem like it wasn’t real to antagonise his kids.
“Y’can pay for your own bloody meal at this rate.” Oli spoke, looking up from where he was messing around on his phone - probably looking at todays football scores.
“When did you become such a dad?” Felix laughed, scruffing with his brothers hair from where he was sat behind him.
“Dickhead.” Oli tried to reach out and smack his brother but Harry beat him to it and caught his sons fist.
“Oi, pack it in the both of you.” Harry pretended to be mad, but in reality he loved his children interacting with each other - even if they were play fighting.
You loved your little family. So much.
The rest of the journey was spent listening to whatever was on the radio. Belle had requested Capital FM, however much Harry would rather listen to BBC Radio 2. You heard Harry sing along to a couple of songs though, one being Niall’s new song ‘Our Song’. The journey was quiet but peaceful, allowing you and your thoughts to spend 10 minutes or so alone. The word passed by outside as you drove down some pretty sketchy country lanes, until you rounded the familiar corner that had ‘The Cherry Tree’ situated on the left-hand side. It didn’t take long for Harry to pull in and park up, making sure he didn’t leave any valuable on display.
You climbed out of the car and waited for Belle to shuffle out herself, before shutting the door behind her. It was still a bloody Range Rover…
“Y’alright my love?” Harry asked you, locking the car and sliding his hand into yours to hold. His familiar warmth made you smile and your goosebumps melt away.
Your children walked off ahead, talking about goodness knows what with each other. It was funny to see how small Belle was next to her brothers. She, like you, was smaller than the men in her life and also smaller than you. She walked sandwiched between her brothers as they walked inside the restaurant.
“Never been better.” You answered truthfully, cuddling yourself into his side more. He was more than happy to accept you there.
Harry opened the door for you and you walked in after you. He kept a hand on your lower back as you walked to where your children were standing waiting for a waiter.
The room was large and really atmospheric. Lots of chatter from belly laughing customers and tiny toddlers who were on the loose. You spotted people lining up for a carvery and there was a separate area where a pizza oven burned away. As soon as you saw the meat and the roasts though, you knew that’s exactly what you wanted. And with a glass of red wine - divinity.
“Nice and warm in here.” You stated, having been quite cold outside. You spotted a wood burning fire in the corner and guessed that’s where the room got it’s hear from.
“Y’cold m’love?” Harry asked, furrowed brows over you and your health.
“Was. Better now.” You answered.
“It’s ‘cause we live in bloody England.” Felix huffed, stuffing his phone into his back pocket.
“Then move countries, please.” Oli answered in a playful tone, earning a light punch to his side from his brother.
“Idiots.” Belle rolled her eyes at the both of them.
“This is why you’re my favourite chid.” Harry answered jokingly, but everyone knew he secretly meant it. He often spent more time with his Belle and would treat her with a teensy tiny bit more love than his boys, but they were okay with that.
“Charming dad.” Oli added, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Someone’s been working out recently.” Harry pressed a finger onto Oli’s buff arm. He was visibly flexing, but he still did have a decent amount of built up muscle on him.
“Bro, not cool. We said we’d work out together.” Felix groaned, knowing he was slightly skinnier than Oli and the tabloids made sure to point it out. It didn’t phase him publicly, but you knew it did internally.
“Can work out with me, if you want?” You questioned Felix, already knowing the answer.
“No thanks mum. I don’t want to go to pilates or hot yoga with a bunch of mums.” He rolled his eyes, but earned a slap to the back of his head from his dad.
“Y’pest, be nice to y’mum.”
“It’s actually mixed gender for the hot yoga.”
“Well now you can say bye-bye to that class, missus.” Harry teased you, tightening his hold on your back. When Harry got jealous he got jealous - like pettily jealous. It was something you’d both worked on during the years together, but sometimes it did creep up. Like now.
“I’m not quitting that class, H. You can come with me if y’so bothered that other men and women might be staring at m’arse.”
“Y’bloody well bet i’m coming.” He told you, making you chuckle. He leant down and gave you a kiss to your lips, welcoming it with a needy kiss back since he rarely gave you lip kisses in public. This was pub in the middle of nowhere, so Harry felt safe to give you some loving.
“Ugh could you, like, not?” Felix groaned and his siblings followed. Harry pulled away with annoyance, a smile on your lips though.
“Y’should be happy I love y’mum.”
“I am, just not publicly.” Felix turned his nose up at the memory of his parents kissing.
“Leave us alone, it’s our anniversary.” You pouted.
“Like dad needs that excuse.” Belle snorted and rolled her eyes, making everyone but Harry laugh.
“You don’t need an excuse to love me, H.” You whispered to him and he leaned down to you with a smile.
“I know.” He kissed your forehead this time and brought you closer into his side as his kids were laughing with each other still.
“Where the fuck is the waited i’m bloody starving.” Oli grumbled, patting his belly lightly, clearly annoyed at the waiting of the staff here.
“Um, can I help you?” The shy waiter was bright red in the face from hearing Oli’s comment, making the rest of you snicker.
It was the little moments like these that made you appreciate your life and your little, happy, family.
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wyverian-lady525 · 2 years
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The swarm's pretty anti-rider eh? How's about this.. Even after the rider and Kyle got together the swarm's not really changed their attitude yet, still being very open of their suspicions of riders. Kyle's tried to talk back but alas they don't listen. Now here he sits in the middle of no where with his family as they're camping out for a quest and the swarm's talking junk about riders again, even directly talking about the rider and ratha which was the boiling point for Kyle. But just as he was about to explode at them his dad beat him to it. Their father sternly told them to stop and start doing research instead of spreading lies. When the swarm was confused they were shocked to learn that while them and Kyle were busy bickering their father had actually been learning about riders and directly spending time with the rider both to get to know them and to learn more of their way of life, he even commented how the rider is by far the best person any of his sons has brought home. So yeah after that quest the swarm's gonna be a lot less open about their suspicions cause they do not wanna anger their dad who's taken a liking to the rider (and reluctantly the swarm started looking into riders for the same reason)
Awesome! Go Kyle's Dad!
In order of youngest to oldest:
Kyle
Levi
Robin
Isaac
Aeon
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Better Listen to Dad
The swarm’s opinions on riders are clear, and they vocalize this. However, before Kyle can say anything, someone else intervenes.
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Evening was setting upon the land of monsters. As the sun cast a golden glow upon the leafy trees and nocturnal monsters awoke from their slumber, a family sat around a campfire. The boys were roasting some meat while their father mapped out the area for their hunt tomorrow. All was peaceful and all was well.
Then came the hyena laughter.
Kyle was once again the butt of some joke that he couldn’t hear. No doubt it was about you and him. Whether it was because you guys were a couple, or because you were a rider, he didn’t know. All he did know is that he was glad that you weren’t here to hear this. 
His brothers, despite your rather inclusive spot in the family, were still very suspicious of riders. The worst thought being that they couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves. I mean, they are a swarm, so they had to always collectively share their thoughts out loud.
That doesn’t mean Kyle likes it.
He’s tried to defend you and others like you on several occasions, but his older brothers never listen to him. Kyle tries to explain riders better, but they are stiff with what they believe.
And they want to believe lies and gossip.
“So, why does Y/N have so many pets if they only tend to use Ratha?” Levi asked while poking the fire. That’s another thing. They tended to call your monsties “pets”. It drove Kyle nuts.
“Seems irresponsible.” Robin added and Aeon nodded in agreement. As hunters, they definitely thought that one monster was too many. Your brigade really got on their nerves.
“Yeah, and why’s it gotta be that monster. It nearly killed some people.” Isaac grabbed a skewer from the fire. Kyle was about to jump to your defense and scream till the sun came up in spite of what anyone would say.
However, someone beat him to it.
“You all shut your mouths right now!” Kyle’s dad growled while snatching the skewer out his son’s hand. Isaac looked perplexed mid-bite, and the other brothers also looked afraid. There was a fire in their father’s eyes that hasn’t burned in a long time.
It terrified them.
“Look at you all! Spreading lies and talking bad about your brother’s lover like that! You should all be ashamed. You don’t know the first thing about riders to be saying things like that.” He hissed while tossing the food into the nearby shrubbery where a wandering jaggi quickly snatched up. 
“And you do?” Levi bravely argued. All three brothers held their breath in fear and even Kyle looked fearful. No one back sassed dad like that. Their father in question gave his son an icy stare.
“As a matter of fact, I do you idiot.” He said while sitting up straighter while the whole swarm cowered down like children several years younger than them.
“While you all were out doing something or other, because I know it wasn’t work, I was trying to learn more about the people who lived on that island I visited.” He explained and they all titled their heads, eyes wide in shock.
“In case you didn’t notice, I couldn’t do much hunting after I got back.” Their dad said with a frown, and they all winced. 
“Anyway, I even got to talk with Y/N after this whole “Oltura incident”. They told me a lot about their lifestyle, and in general, they are just a pleasant person.” Kyle’s dad smiled a bit and his voice even softened a bit. Kyle felt himself start to smile at his praise at you. 
Then his face hardened, and he pointed an accusing finger at all his other sons while glaring at them.
“They are a hell of a lot better than the people you lot bring home! And for the record, get a room that isn’t in the house! These old ears still work...” Their dad growled and all the boys immediately looked both horrified and ashamed.
“Sorry dad...” Aeon, being the oldest, felt like he should be the one to apologize. Kyle’s dad stiffened his jaw and folded his arms.
“You can apologize to me after you apologize to Y/N. And on top of that, do a little more research into riders before you start opening your yaps.” He huffed before taking some food for himself. 
It was silent after that.
Kyle could see his brothers silently communicating with one other by the use of their looks. But Kyle’s lived with them for so long that he knows what their looks say. They feel both guilty and ashamed that it took their father yelling at them to right their ways.
One thing is for certain.
They are definitely going to find you and try to learn more about riders. If their own father (who’s like a hero in their eyes) likes you, then you couldn’t possibly be that bad.
Also, they never wanted to see their dad this mad again. For that, Kyle respected them.
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danniburgh · 3 years
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Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 23
Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.
Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.
And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.
Word count: +6.4k
Chapter warnings: lmao angst and then fluff, a brief mention of food, and drugs and a dog.
A/N: This chapter is set after season three. // aAAAAAA this is so long i dont even why but it took me like ALL day FUCK FUCK FUCK anyway thanks to all my babies that got me through the desperation of wanting this to write itself lmao, also two chapters and we are DONE with the main story holy shit
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gifs: @pascalsky
Javier groaned when he sat up and moved his legs to get them out of the bed and looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand; three forty-eight in the morning. He turned on the lamp, reached at his nape and scratched with blunt nails and reached for the pack of smokes that he left on the nightstand before laying down to try to sleep with the other hand.
He pulled the last one out of the pack and stood up to throw the empty carton in the trashcan near the door; he eyed the empty pack from the day before in the bottom of the can with the cigarette clinging to his lips thanks to near dry spit making them sticky and let out a deep sigh.
It wasn’t working.
His tongue moved to shift the cigarette from his lips and he let it fall inside the trashcan, knowing it wouldn’t be the last one he put between his lips, but at least he didn’t light it.
Javier thought of getting out of the room and raiding his dad’s bar again, but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.
It wasn’t working.
He knew it, and it couldn't be denied any longer. He wasn’t getting any younger and his old ways weren’t helping him forget as they used to ten or fifteen years before.
Javier walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, letting his half naked body fall backwards on the mattress and looking at the ceiling, he felt his hand twitch and he felt it empty without a nicotine stick firmly pressed between his index and his thumb but did nothing to calm it down.
Ten or fifteen years before: had it really been that long? Javier huffed at nothing and scratched his chest, leaving his hand there, uselessly wondering what would it be of him if he did something different; incidentally working through years and years of missteps, mishappens, mistakes, and shaping them in some other way that would have saved him from five months of poor sleep and constant drunkenness, five months of chain-smoking and lack of sharpness, five months of only remembering the bad things he had done and the bad things he deserved.
He huffed again because of course his retirement wouldn’t be him sitting on a porch to enjoy the evening Texas breeze and a glass of scotch; even if he had tried it.
It was having nightmares every third night he wanted nothing but to shove deep inside his head, but that then, reluctantly, he had to tell his new therapist his dad had forced him to go to.
It was having to remember all the men he saw dying every time he heard the words war or coke or shooting. Having to remember them changing and fighting and dying for a cause he wasn’t sure if he still believed in. Having to remember Carrillo every time he and Steve talked on the phone.
It was remembering you each time someone sent him a letter congratulating his work or asking for consultation or asking for an interview; because he had an idea of what you had been through and he was sure he didn’t deserve all that claptrap. He did nothing but cause chaos and destruction and death and even though his therapist said it wasn’t his fault he knew it was because he aided for it to happen.
But you? You did everything you could to find yourself a way to recover what was yours, and you still lost it.
Javier sat up again and after six exact seconds of consideration, he leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer. He took the black tape he had been clinging to for five months and held it in front of him for a couple of minutes.
He chuckled at himself and gripped the small cassette, took from the drawer his tape player, pressed the red button for it to open, let the tape fall in the slit and closed it, turned it on and rewinded the tape, trying to make the calculations in his head of how many times he had repeated that process as the tape ran to the beginning.
He put the headphones on, laid down back on the bed and pressed play.
“Hi, Javi, uhm…”
God, how he missed you.
The phone rang again, fuck the phone, you thought, and hid your face under a pillow, trying to fall asleep again despite the clear signal that you were no longer sleepy.
And the phone rang again, you lifted your head from the cocoon of pillows and eyed the clock on your nightstand, who was calling you at five seventeen in the morning?
Grunting, you got out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom to the small space that made your living room, dining room and kitchen and got to the phone.
“Hello?” your voice was a deep groan, and you cleared your throat.
“Another letter came for you, when are you gonna change your address?” your dad’s voice broke through the receiver and you closed your eyes, breathing in and out the stress it was already provoking in you.
“I’ll get to it, dad,” you replied “are you gonna send it to me or can I go to the house?” you questioned, feeling already your lower lip tremble.
“I’ll send it, your mom doesn’t wanna see you yet,” he let out in a stern voice “sorry, pumpkin.” he whispered and hung up the phone.
You sat on the armrest of the loveseat next to the phone and let your tears fall from your eyes, not even bothering about cleaning them anymore.
You sighed and nodded to yourself, letting your tired gaze roam around your tiny living space and you missed the openness of your family house, the one you had come back to and were expelled from by an angry mother that felt ashamed of the truth you told them.
But you had to give it to her, she didn’t even know you went down to Colombia, or that you’d been having drug issues, or that they fired you.
She had told you she didn’t know who you were anymore.
Neither did you.
So you left, they couldn’t be more disappointed in you than you were in yourself, so you walked out as your mom wanted and tried to find a home for yourself as you still wondered what the hell were you supposed to do. There wasn’t a handbook or a protocol that taught people how to stop being a DEA agent, the government didn’t train people to go back to civility or even offered a program to forget all the shit you had lived in the places they had sent you.
You stayed in your hometown, unknowingly to your old friends and twenty minutes away from your parent’s home and didn’t leave your house unless absolutely necessary; Albuquerque wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t big, and you were dreading walking past someone who knew you before you had lost yourself and tried to explain all your baggage, you didn’t have the time, or the energy. And you didn’t want people feeling sorry for yourself, with the woman in the mirror you had enough.
Everything seemed pointless, and you felt heavy all the time, as if you were carrying a chain ball in each foot and shackles in your hands while being dragged down by quicksand.
In the kitchen's corner you saw the last two boxes you still didn’t have energy to unpack after moving them across the continent and let out a teary sight as you stood from the armrest and walked to them.
You opened the first box and saw it filled with office clutter; pencils, markers, some notebooks and notepads, the brown journal you had been looking for to burn on your stove; a set of keys you weren’t sure what they opened and in the bottom, folded pieces of paper.
“Oh, no.” you muttered to the air of the warm kitchen and you doubted reaching in for it… The hesitation lasted two minutes but for you it was like two hours, you knew what it was, you knew why it was in that box and when you took it it felt hot and heavy. You were holding feelings in that letter, you were holding hours of shed tears and memories you didn’t want to have anymore. Memories that still haunted you whenever you smelled roasted colombian coffee and saw an ad of Malduros on tv.
You didn’t open it. You knew what was written there. And for a few seconds you thought of burning it on the stove instead.
“Well, I don’t want this, might as well send it.” you muttered under your breath, recognizing it would do you some good to stop holding to it, acknowledging it would do you some good to know he had it. If he wanted to rip it into millions of pieces or burn it or toss it in the trash or eat it, it was his problem.
You bit your lip as you walked to the phone; you hadn’t thought of him in a while. But as you sat on the loveseat all the shit you wanted to bury if not get rid of came back to your mind like a high wave of a rough sea; sharp, cold, gritty.
“Shit.” you gasped, trying to breathe in and out several times because you didn’t want to cry. It was too early for crying.
You grabbed the phone and thought who could have Javier’s address. God, even thinking of his name made your chest flutter and your stomach churn. You had fooled yourself into thinking he didn’t have an effect on you anymore, into even assuring five months was enough to forget him. What a fool.
You dialed the number of the only person you knew for sure knew the address by heart; the phone rang three times before it was answered.
“Hello?” a sleepy nasal voice greeted, and you smiled through the few tears that had accumulated in your eyes, grateful that he still had his embassy issued cell phone.
“Stod!” your smile was making your cheeks hurt, and you wondered in the back of your head when was the last time you had smiled.
“Who’s this? Flor?” he asked and you let out a stiff chuckle. You decided not to be a huge asshole and dump something heavy as your actual name that early in the morning, so you went with it.
“Yeah, sorry to call at this hour, did I wake you?” you played with the edge of the loveseat’s armrest.
“Kinda,” a noise of shuffle was heard “but it’s almost seven here, so I’m not that mad,” he teased, making you chuckle again “how are you? to what do I owe the honor?”
“Uhm, I–‌I’m calling to take advantage of you,” you said, hearing his chuckle through the line and a whisper of of course you did, “by any chance do you know Peña’s address in Texas?” you asked, closing your eyes and crossing your fingers, wishing for him to not ask:
“Why?”
“I–‌I have something of his...” you mumbled under your breath “I just found it and I wanna send it.” you said, which wasn’t technically a lie.
“Uh…” Stoddard hesitated, and you heard a faint of a pouring noise in the back that made you sigh, a cup of coffee would do you wonders, “well I do–I don't know if I’m allowed to just say it, y’know?” you frowned.
“Oh, come on, please?” you pleaded, your leg started bouncing because of the anxiety that was growing in your chest.
“What is it? is something important?” he asked.
“Super important,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see, “he needs it.”
“How do you know?” he questioned again, and you whined under your breath.
“Uhm, I ju–‌I just know, uhm…” since when were you a twitchy, nervous mess? “can’t you just tell me?”
“Not really, no.” he muttered in that voice that made you want to punch him and hug him at the same time.
You let out the air of your lungs and controlled your body.
You had promised yourself to tell the truth when it was necessary. So you were going to.
“Look, Stod, this is long to explain, okay?” you began, and he hummed affirmatively in response, “the only thing you need to know is that the thing I have here is very important that he gets because he needs to know that I kept it for him.” you said, closing your eyes again.
“Flor you just told me nothing.” he let out, his voice was being muffled and it sounded like he had something in his mouth.
“Fuck, Stoddard, I love him, okay?” you let out “and this thing I have is a letter that I need him to have so he knows I love him!” you panted and bit your lip when he didn’t answer.
You just had said out loud you loved someone, you just had said to someone you loved Javier Peña for the first time. Shit.
“Oh,” Stoddard said after a moment and you held your breath, “you have where to write?”
“You’re a fucking king!”
Six hours later, you wanted nothing else but to turn the fucking car around.
“This is a mistake, this is a fucking mistake!” you yelled inside your car, opening the glove box to toss there your sunglasses. The highway 285 was eternal, and you hated driving through it; it was empty, there was nothing but desert landscapes and the occasional tree, but you were halfway, just crossing the state border and there was nothing in the everlasting earth that would make you drive back home, not even your fucking hesitation, not even your self-doubt.
“What the fuck am I gonna say?” you asked yourself again, chewing on your lower lip and gripping the steering wheel, “am I just pulling on his driveway and knocking on his door and saying hi I’m sorry I broke your heart I have a letter for you? Fuck!” you saw the beginning of yet another town and you drove slowly looking for a gas station, “or better yet, I read this shit to him to complete the humiliation!” you turned your head for a second at the letter resting easily in the co-pilot’s seat and you groaned, finding a gas station. You were also hungry.
With the car’s tank full and a plastic bag filled with snacks for the remaining six hours, you sighed to yourself and started driving again.
“You’re doing this because you need closure,” you told yourself, shoving your hand into a bag of salted chips and bringing three to your mouth “if he doesn’t wanna see you, too bad, he’s gonna miss your haircut,” you mumbled, chewing at the same time “you leave the letter and let him decide what to do with it.”
With the highway 285 long behind you and the sky just beginning to turn orange, you had convinced yourself of your own reasons and you even had a plan to go back home as soon as you were done in Laredo. You also had promised yourself and all your Muertos, you wouldn’t react to Javier Peña if he didn’t react to you and as you had learned in your three-year station in México, you can’t break a promise you made to dead people.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you said when the marked map told you you were a block away from the Peña’s ranch house, you were chewing the last bit of a nearly melted chocolate bar you had bought hours ago as your nervousness betrayed you and you started chuckling at your impulses, “holy fuck, I wanna go home!”
But you were already there. The gate was open and there were two trucks parked on the driveway. So you sucked everything you were feeling, and you turned off the ignition. Fuck. It.
You breathed in and out several times before you unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbed the letter and opened the door. You did it again as you walked the gravel path to the house and were grateful it was already dark, so at least the night could help you hide until the last second.
You stopped walking, rationality coming back to you.
“What the fuck am I doing?” you whispered to yourself and turned around, shaking your head as you walked back to the car.
“Mija!” you heard behind you, you froze in place and stiffened at the sound of a thick accent in a rough and warm voice.
“Oh, no.” you said under your breath.
“It’s you!” you turned around, and you saw the face of the man you had only met through an old picture Javier carried with him at all times. “viniste.” (you came) behind him walked a black, large dog that ignored the man and huffed at you.
“I’m sorry?” your voice went out thin and high, and you wanted to chastise yourself for it. You had given yourself a seven-hour pep talk on the way, and you were already breaking.
“I told him,” the man rolled his eyes behind the glasses he was wearing and gestured for you to walk closer “Jesús Peña, nice to finally meet you,” he extended his hand to you and you took it and shook it, the dog got closer to you and smelled your legs, you tried to smile at him and at the dog but tears were already gathering inside your eyes “le dije que ibas a venir a buscarlo.” (I told him you’ll come looking for him)
“I’m sorry, Mr. Peña, I–‌I do–‌”
“Mr. Peña nada,” he interrupted, “call me Chucho,” you nodded and sniffed slightly “ven,” (come) he gestured again and started walking towards the house, “Pepe, métete.” (get inside) he called, and the dog trotted to his side.
“Wait, Chucho, wait!” you called him under your breath as you followed him, he didn’t stop.
“Come on in,” he opened the house door and waited for you to get inside. He nodded his head for you to walk in and you frowned.
“You don’t even know who I am, what ar–‌”
“I know enough,” he said solemnly, walked inside and you and the dog did too and he pointed to an armchair “siéntate, mija, he’s on the back.” he turned around and walked through an archway to what it looked like the kitchen and disappeared through a door, Pepe behind him.
“What the fuck.” you sobbed out, knowing you had little time to leave the letter you were clutching in your hands on the coffee table in front of you and walk out and leave for good. But you couldn’t move, you were in Javier’s house and you wanted to stop being there, but your body was frozen in place and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to scream at yourself, at your fucking impulses; you had all the opportunities to turn around and go back home, why didn’t you listen to your logical, rational, always right brain?
“Hi.” you heard behind your back and you covered your mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding the fucking letter.
You turned around and blinked the first two tears of what you already knew was going to be a sea of them.
He was wearing the red shirt. And God, it was his color.
Javier wanted to run away and hide.
He had just made peace with never seeing you again; he had just accepted that the only part he would have of you was that voice mail you had left him months before. But there you were, teary and gorgeous in front of him. Shaking and with your hands holding a piece of paper as if it were your lifeline.
His head was a contradiction, because he wanted to grab you and hug you all the same he wanted to grab you and shove you out of his house and his life.
“What are you doing here?” Javier asked, knowing deep inside him he wanted to tell you how good you looked and how much he liked your new hair. You let out a shaky breath at his deep voice. You had missed it.
It was the first time you saw him in five months, and the weight of your feelings for him fell again on your shoulders like a recently broken off boulder, heavy, rough edged and shapeless.
“I don’t know.” you answered truthfully, he sighed and deviated his eyes from you, you breathed in heavily and the only thing that got into your lungs was his essence. You cursed under your breath and he huffed, putting his hands on his hips and leaning to the side.
“How d'you found me?” he questioned, and you huffed through the tears.
“I have my resources.” you let out on a whisper. Trying to find his eyes, you needed to see his eyes.
“What do you want?” Javier asked again, and you deflated at the tone of his voice. The rational part of your brain yelled I told you so at your feelings and you knew it was right, you were expecting too much of yourself and of him.
“See you,” you bit your lower lip and Javier saw from the corner of his eyes how you scrunched up your nose, and he felt something inside his chest flutter, hating and loving all the same how much of you he still had stored inside his memory, “I have something for you.”
“Keep it.” he let out. You shook your head and raised your hand with the letter on it.
“Read it.” you half ordered, half pleaded, Javier chuckled and then shook his head, mimicking you.
“I don’t want it.” he knew he was lying to himself, he wanted to know what it was, he wanted to grip it and smell the paper and read it over and over but his body wasn’t responding to what his feelings were telling him and only responded, almost in automatic, to his prideful side, to that side of him that still resented you and himself.
“Alright then,” you said, standing straight after realizing you had regained the ability to read him even through your tears, and understanding there was something he was struggling with, “I’ll read it.”
“Stop.” Javier frowned and looked at you, his eyes pleading for you to do something you couldn’t decipher.
“I know, okay?” you said, trying to reassure him and yourself “I know I’m in no position to ask for shit,” Javier dropped his hands to the sides “but I just want ten minutes, just ten of your life, and you’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want.”
You knew it was a risky thing to say, but you needed him to know, you needed him to understand you because you knew and he knew you did understand him. And he needed to know you. You and your version.
He said nothing, you took it as his queue to start so you breathed in deeply and unfolded the letter.
“Stop.” Javier said under his breath.
“No,” you wiped a tear off your cheek “I wrote this when I went back to Colombia after I got fired,” Javier looked at you and you saw his face quirk in something close to pain “uhm, before I wrote this I drove around Bogotá,” you recalled that last day in the city and how much it pained you to be there, “I went–‌I went to some of the places you told me you liked” you tried to smile and dropped your eyes to your shoes, trying to find something to cling to and compose yourself “even that little cafe you told me about, near the palace of justice, remember?” you sobbed out. And he called your name. Making you gasp.
“Stop,” you looked up at him and saw him frowning, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “we don’t need this.”
“I do!” you let out, Javier brushed his lips with his thumb and felt his hand twitch in need of nicotine again “I need to tell you all this!” you wiped your tears away again “I need closure!” you cried out.
Javier felt his stomach turn around and all the blood of his body went to his feet. Fuck. 
How could he had been so stupid? he got into his own feelings too much and he forgot that you had cried your eyes out to him all those months ago when you handed him everything you were in a couple of manila folders. He had gotten wrapped by his own feelings and the hurricane your declaration had created in his life that he had forgotten just how much you were suffering as well. Because he might have thought about you; all the time, every day; he thought about your past and your reasons and motivations. He even thought of you naked on his bed in Colombia, under his body, moaning and gasping when he needed some release, but he forgot to think about your feelings.
“I didn’t come here to ask for forgiveness because I know I don’t deserve it,” you said and Javier felt the wetness of a tear escaping his eye and making its way through his cheek, “I’m trying to get closure, Javier, please let me try.”
Javier nodded.
You cried more when you saw him brush a tear off with his thumb and chew the inside of his mouth. You wanted to run away; you were sure he was better before you came to his house and disrupted his peace; you were hurting him again, and you wanted to kneel in front of him and ask him for what you said you weren’t seeking. He made you want so much.
You sniffed and dropped your eyes to the open letter in your hand, Javier didn’t move from where he was standing.
“No amount of guilt will or can change the past,” you began, Javier crossed his arms on his chest and saw movement to his side, “that much I know. I kno–‌know that it doesn’t matter,” you sniffed again and Javier turned his head to watch the dog casually walking towards him and sitting next to his boots. You saw it too, and you let out a sad chuckle.
“Ignore him.” he just said. You nodded.
“Uhm, it doesn’t matter how much I apologize, or how many I’m sorry’s I mouth, forgiveness doesn’t come for free.” you didn’t want to lift your eyes to see him, so you continued.
Javier only saw you reading him something he was sure you had poured your heart into, and he wanted nothing but to hear what you wanted to say to him, but he couldn’t focus into listening, because there you were, again in front of him doing what he never dared to do.
Opening your fucking chest, taking your heart out and giving it raw to him.
“...knowing and realizing and acknowledging just how much I love you.”
Javier drowned a gasp, as he fell in love with you all over again, you were doing what he didn’t have the balls to do, because in his sleepless sleep he wanted to look for you, in the middle of his idle nights, just after waking up after a nightmare, he wanted to find you and go to you and tell you whatever the fuck he could to be back with you. But he never did, he never did because he was a coward, because he feared his own feelings so fucking much.
He couldn't hear anything of it after your declaration of love. God, how much he loved you. You were standing there, with your eternally hopeful eyes filled with crystalline tears and several pages of written feelings. And he realized, there, with you in the middle of his living room, shifting to the next page, that even though you were extremely similar, you were also very different.
“...with you I found a reason to give up after all the shit I've lived in…” you muttered and he found the differences inside him; you were braver than him, you were smarter and more connected with what you felt; you weren’t scared of your feelings as he was. You went for what you wanted and even though it had been five months of that dreadful day when he saw his heart squeezed out of his body by your hesitant hand, that day he still replayed inside his head when the day was just over and his brain was floating between sleep and awakeness, he still wondered why you were bothering.
“There were so many things I thought…” you kept reading as he wondered if it was possible for the two of you to connect with each other outside of shared trauma and sympathy for each other’s experiences. But he answered to himself that even if you two weren’t as emotionally available as you needed to be to build a relationship or if you both were having a hard time adapting to be and live out of the system, maybe the love was real.
You stopped reading after noticing he was just standing there with his arms crossed and his eyes on you but not seeing you; you wiped the last of your tears and chuckled bitterly to yourself. Making him blink a few times.
“Fuck this,” you crumpled the pages in your hands and dropped them on the coffee table, shaking your head. Javier frowned, “it doesn’t matter what I read, I shouldn’t have come.” you said, drowning your sobs and gasping for air. He wasn’t paying attention, and nothing about it was making you feel any better about anything.
“What?” Javier whispered, dropping his hands to his sides.
“A’right, then…” you didn’t look at him and tried to control your breathing again “I guess that’s what I wanted to do,” you walked to the door and opened it, Javier wanted to ask what the fuck was happening, he wanted to grab your arm and stop you as he didn’t do it when you were leaving his office back in Colombia “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Javier,” he winced slightly involuntarily at the way you sobbed out his name “I’ll go.”
You walked out of the house covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs, your rational brain was right, it was a mistake; it was a complete and utter mistake, and you were so ashamed of yourself for even thinking it would change anything. You walked to your car feeling the sharp, stinging sensation of a migraine settling in your head. You heard steps behind you and you turned around slowly, not wanting to put hope on the source being Javier.
“Mija,” you look at Chucho trying to catch up with you, “¿a dónde vas?” (where are you going?)
“I’m going home.” you said, shrugging at the man when he stopped in front of you.
“Why?” he asked, frowning.
“Because he said nothing, Chucho,” you bit your lip and looked at the Texan night sky and huffed at yourself, “he said nothing.”
“But he wants you, mija!” he assured you, and you shook your head several times.
“If he wants me as you say,” you pointed towards the house behind him, “then how come I’m not with him?” you reasoned, “he doesn’t want me.”
You dropped your eyes to the gravel path as Chucho sighed and raised his hand to squeeze your shoulder just enough for you to feel less sad. Just how a father would do.
Chucho glared at the house, the door open and Pepe standing in the threshold; his son had been back for months, he had been living next to him, eating next to him, working next to him and breathing next to him just as he did before he went away but he knew, just like a father could, he was not the same man that left.
He reminisced over the muchacho his son was before he left Laredo, so eager to get out of the small town he grew up in and that harbored his family home, so anxious to meet new horizons, so keen to find and explore new places and learn new things; he sometimes found himself missing that boy, he sometimes missed his Javi; the one that helped him build a paddock for his own horse, the one that washed his truck without asking and without failing each friday evening, the one that took care of his Mamá’s funeral at sixteen when himself was too sad to think about coffins or tombstones; because the man that came back to him after almost two decades too far away from home wasn’t the same.
He had seen and done things that Chucho never wanted to to ask about but he imagined, his Javier wasn’t the same. And Chucho knew why, but he also knew about you. Javi had talked about you way too much for his own good, as he did everything. And Chucho also knew why, he wasn’t letting the woman that made his son come back home run away.
“He does want you,” he said, slowly, with a low voice, as if it were a secret, “mijo… es un idiota a veces, but he loves you.” (he’s an idiot sometimes)
“You don’t know that.” you refuted.
“I do,” he gave you a smile that was barely visible under the white mustache “el te ama, y yo…” (he loves you, and I…) “I’m so grateful.” you shook your head as two thick tears left your eyes.
“I broke his heart.” you sobbed out.
“Y me lo trajiste a casa, Florecita” (and you brought him home to me, little flower) you sobbed harder, not able to control it anymore, and he brought you to him, and held you.
“He told you my fake name?” you asked between sobs.
“He told me what you look like.” he muttered.
“I’m so sorry.” you let yourself be wrapped by him and you hid your face on his shoulder.
“Don’t be, without you I would’ve lost my only child.” you held him tighter.
“Please.” you pleaded for nothing and everything at the same time.
“You gotta fight for him, mija.” he muttered to your ear, and you shook your head, still leaning into him.
“I’m fighting for him!” you almost yelled “I’m here, aren’t I?” you lifted your head to look at the man and you gasped for air, dropping your hands to your sides “I drove almost thirteen hours non-stop all the way from Albuquerque just to be here!” you told him and the man stiffened as you lost your shit in front of him, you gripped your head between your hands “thirteen hours to read him that stupid letter and he didn’t say shit!”
“You did what?” you heard and lifted your head to see Javier standing behind his dad.
Chucho looked at Javier and then at you with your cheeks dampened with tears. He squeezed your shoulder again and turned to walk to the house.
“You were in Albuquerque all this time?” he said, and you nodded, noticing he was holding the letter in his hand “when you said you’d go you meant back there?” he frowned in confusion.
“Well, yeah, I have nowhere to stay so I might as well drive home.” you muttered, Javier’s frown deepened, and he stepped towards you.
“Stay here,” he said, “if you wanna leave you leave in the morning.” his voice was thin and low. You looked at his eyes and saw them reddened and wet.
“Did you read it?” you whispered out. He stepped towards you again, nodding.
“Stay.” he whispered back.
“You don’t want me.” you said under your breath as shook your head and he stepped closer.
“Who says that?” he asked, and you looked at the gravel path again.
“I won’t stay.” you felt Javier’s warm fingers graze under your chin and lift your head to him slowly.
“Don’t be so stubborn,” he chastised you with half a smirk forming on his lips “stay with us.” you shook your head again.
“You don’t want me here but you want me to stay,” you said, frowning at him “Javier you can’t have it bo–‌”
“I want you to stay,” he interrupted you “I want you to stay with me,” he whispered as his fingers moved to your cheek and wiped away a tear. “please.”
Javier had read your letter after you walked out and realized, at the prospect of you leaving for what it seemed like forever, at the possibility of you leaving him for good and he never getting to see you or your gorgeous face or your hypnotizing eyes or hearing your voice that did so many things on him, that the balance of his other losses leaned upwards when he weighed the probability of losing you.
Did he care about what you did? of course he did, it still stung sometimes deep inside his chest, it still filled him with something close to grief.
Was he willing to work it out and let it aside because he didn’t want to feel the agony and deep sorrow of not having you by his side he had been feeling for the last five months again? yes.
And the answer to that question inside his head startled him and shook him deeply.
You were there. God, you were there, there was no way he was going to let you leave.
Javier decided you could work it out later, he loved you way too much not to try. He didn’t even plan to love you the way he did, the way he discovered by reading that letter or remembering the man he was without you. He didn’t even plan to love you at all, but he did. He was madly, insanely, deeply in love with you.
Javier moved his hand to your shoulder and let the one holding the letter find its way to your waist. Find its way home.
“Don’t go.” he whispered again. He moved the last step to wrap his hands around you. You let out a low yelp at the feeling of his body so close to you, for a second you froze in place, your eyes closed and his warmth invaded your entire body as he hid his head in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your essence as you hugged him back and gripped him tightly against you.
Javier felt as if all his parts were being glued back together.
“Stay with me.” he whispered against the skin of your neck.
So you stayed.
←previous // next→
*THE LETTER*
Pepe:
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Text
On A Tropical Island
Jaune: Great. Just great. Now I’m lost and all my friends are missing too! I’m too angry to be depressed!
Neo: *Head pops out of the sand, spitting it everywhere*
Jaune: Oh, even better. Now I have company. This can’t possibly get any worse! *Ignores Neo glaring*
-----------------
Jaune: Stop following me! You’re a bad girl!
Neo: *Cocks eyebrow*
Jaune: *Blushes* Not what I meant! I mean you’re evil! And all you’ve done to help so far is poke me with a stick! *Is poked with a stick* Dammit, stop that!
Neo: *Pokes him in the butt instead*
Jaune: OW! That’s not what I meant you menace!
Neo: *Preens at being called a menace*
Jaune: And stop trying to be cute, too!
----------------- 
Neo: *Tapping bare foot*
Jaune: Okay, so maybe my sense of direction isn’t the best. *gets The Look* Alright alright already, jeez. We’re back where we started, your shoes, your jacket and my armor are now forever lost to the wilds and it’s not my fault!
Neo: *Stares*
Jaune: *Shifts guiltily* Okay maybe it is, but if I had a map *Neo crosses her arms, reigniting The Look™ * we’d still probably be lost since the rest of team RNJR banned me from the map after reading it backwards and upside down.
Neo: *Nods firmly, taking the lead*
Jaune: For the fourth time.
Neo: *Turns, gapes in shock, shakes her head and grabs him by the hand*
Jaune: *Offended* Hey, I’m not a child! I won’t get lost!
Neo: *Looks at him through her eyelashes*
Jaune: *Sighs* Okay, fine. But only because getting lost in a weird jungle is way worse than getting lost in the grocery store at 14.
Neo: *Stops, removes belt, ties end around his wrist and grabs the other end*
Jaune: *Starts whining*
----------------- 
Jaune: Dear diary *ignores Neo’s pointing and silent laughter* today is day 17 on the worst island to ever exist. Butthole and I -- OW, SHIT-FUCK-SHIT! I really hate that you sharpened your stick into a spear! Fine, Neo and I finally have a a good system in place for food. We’ve got our firepit, Neo turned my armor we found into a pan, one pot and a skillet, my impeccable home economics have saved our asses and we’ve got a spit for roasting things over the fire!
Neo: *Munches happily on roast rabbit*
Jaune: It’s really working out! Neo’s great at the spotting and tracking, I get to use the spear to hunt and there’s plenty of these really stupid semi-intelligent rabbits that seem to have a language of their own that are really good when you cook ‘em just right. *Pauses* I think they might have stolen my shirt though, I haven’t seen that thing in like four days.
Neo: *Mentally reminds herself to burn the eye candy’s shirt before he finds it*
-----------------
Day 28
Jaune: Ow, stop kicking me! I said I was sorry!
Neo: *Jumps on Jaune, bites his ear*
Jaune: AAAGGHH!!! Dammit Neo, how many times do I have to tell you not to bite me! It’s not my fault that seagull stole your hat! In case you hadn’t noticed, it stole Pyrrha’s sash too!
Neo: *Jumps off him, gestures emphatically*
Jaune: I know, you angry little troll! *Instead of attacking him again, Neo just stares at him sadly* I-I... *sighs* I know. I know. I really wanna kill that thing too. It’s...it’s all I had left of her too. All you had left of Torchwick. But we’re stuck here. We can’t find my friends and this island is huge.
Neo: *Nods unhappily*
Neo: *Jabs him with her stick spear*
Jaune: Yeah, we can kill any seagulls we see. *Neo blinks, considers trying to get her point across but nods*
-----------------
Day 49
Jaune: How do you set everything on fire! I told you we needed just enough to warm ourselves!
Neo: *Lunges at Jaune, leaves fire to burn*
Jaune: *Is strangled*
-----------------
Day 54
Neo: *Admires Jaune’s ass in jorts*
Jaune: I still don’t understand why you had to ruin my jeans. Tossing the boots into that bottomless pit, I get. My feet thank you. Uh, except when I keep stepping on sharp rocks and twigs. But really?
Neo: *Points at him, hand fans herself and panics, shaking her head rapidly*
Jaune: *Oblivious, insulted* Yeah, yeah, I’m sweaty! Fine, fuck having pant legs! I wanna get scratched and bitten by those weird little blue people again!
Neo: *Blinks, shakes her head in exasperation and relief*
-----------------
Day 59
Jaune: I can’t believe you committed genocide because those blue people stole your top! Neo, they just wanted a tent!
Neo: *Glares murderously at Jaune, covering her frilly pink and white bra with her hand and arm*
Jaune: *Gulps* I-I-I-I know! It’s upsetting, but murder isn’t always the answer!
Neo: *Uses free hand and makes bunny ears*
Jaune: Hey, those rabbits might be really stupid but they’re super mean spirited! One tried to drop a rock on my head and don’t you dare say it’d be an improvement!
Neo: *Startled, laughs*
Jaune: *Sheepish, laughs too*
Neo: *Continues laughing, eventually noticing Jaune has stopped and is red in the face, wide eyed*
Neo: *Notices she moved her arm and Jaune is staring at her chest*
Jaune: *Notices Neo’s glare and red face* W-wait, hold on a minute now, I didn’t mean to--
Neo: *Glomps, bites his nipple*
Jaune: *Girlish screams that can be heard for miles*
-----------------
Day 72
Jaune: No, put the berries down. You can’t just keep eating fruit all the time, you’re already very small and need to keep yourself healthy if you don’t wanna lie rotting as a corpse on this island forever.
Neo: *Grabs a huge handful of berries, shoves them in her mouth smugly*
Jaune: Dammit Neo, stop being so bratty! I’m only trying to help! *Grabs Rabbit jerky* Now do your body good, open your mouth and eat my meat!
Neo: *Gags, chokes, spits mushy berries out and kicks Jaune in the solar plexus for the phrasing*
Jaune: *Wheezing* I swear I didn’t mean to OH X-RAY AND VAV, SAVE ME!
Nearby Seagull: *Hearing the abyssal, shrieking screams of the Tall One, flies off in terror and decides to move the family nest*
Neo: *Biting, kicking, punching and pinching*
-----------------
Day 88
Jaune: I can hardly shave Neo, if you don’t remember my sword’s a jagged piece of sharp metal these days!
Neo: *Shows off shaved armpits, shows off shaved legs having long since created shorts from her capris and shows him a wooden knife*
Jaune: I should be concerned that you’ve created another stabby, but somehow -- GASP! *Actually gasps, clutches his beard* No! You wouldn’t!
Neo: *Grins*
Jaune: Please don’t, beloved friend of mine.
Neo: *Touched*
Jaune: What? We are. I mean sure you bite and attack me way more than most normal people do but you did save me from that rabbit mercenary group that tried to use a swinging log to splatter my brains against a tree. You might’ve been a bad guy once, but it’s nearly been three months and you’ve more than proven yourself. And I can’t really not call you a friend when I feel guilty about how I treated you.
Neo: *Smiles, undoes her bra*
Jaune: Wait, WHAT!? *Neo jumps on him and smiling happily, gives his cheek a kiss and starts shaving* WAIT NEO NO, THAT’S NOT FAIR YOU CAN’T USE BOOBIES AS A WEAPON LIKE THA- *Neo shakes her body side to side* -GGRRRGGG! That is so cruel. You’re the worst friend ever. I’m glad you have to sit on my ribs and not my lap because that would be even worse.
Neo: *Continues shaving*
----------------- 
Day 146
Jaune: *Using his semblance* See, what’d I tell you? They get smarter! No way are those little demons gonna fall for the same trap twice.
Neo: *Lets Jaune heal the bloody bite marks from a rabbit, squirms*
Jaune: Stop it, you’re fine. *Kisses healed hand* Booboo be gone!
Neo: *Blushes brightly, stares wide eyed*
----------------- 
Day 179
Neo: *Spinkicks boulder about to crush Jaune*
Jaune: Thanks Neo! *To a small, derpy looking anthropomorphic rabbit* Your wretched plan is foiled you vile creature from the deepest pits of hell! Now do me a favor and get stabbed!
Neo: *Spins away, clutching her beating heart as the sound of a vicious goring occurs*
Jaune: Another day, another dead rabbit! Oh look, there’s more! *Offers the Spear of Ultimate Stick to Neo* You wanna eviscerate the next couple?
Neo: *Wonders what this feeling is*
----------------- 
Day 187
Jaune: *Gaping stupidly at Neo’s perfectly lit fire* W-wha? How!? Two months ago you lit my hair on fire *brushing hand through short, unstyled blondeness* but n-now...
Neo: *Smugly roasting bird meat*
Jaune: *Scoops Neo into a hug, spins the wide eyed mute* I understand how Dad felt when I finally learned to tie my shoes in the 6th grade now! I’m so proud, Neo! OW!
Neo: *Spits Jaune’s shoulder blood out, turns away blushing*
Jaune: Still proud. *Notices Neo blushing, deliberately not looking at him* Uh-oh. *Quietly, to himself* Oh no. I recognize this feeling. Ohhh shit. Okay, what the hell Jaune!? You see her boobs and you feel awkward about your boner for three days, but she looks all cute and embarrassed and that’s what does me in!? What kind of bullshit is this!?
Neo: *Oblivious, cupping her cheeks and cutely twisting back and forth*
-----------------
Day 219
Jaune: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Neo: *Silently screaming at the top of her lungs*
Jaune: OH MY GOD NEO WHY THE FUCK IS HE SO BIG!? *Looks fearfully back at a 12 foot tall, musclebound, derpy looking anthroporphic rabbit sprinting at them with rage in its unthinking eyes*
Neo: *Frantically mimes stabbing*
Jaune: NEO, WHAT THE FUCK, I THINK HE’S TOO SWOLE FOR HUSHABYE!!!
Neo: *Heart flutters at Jaune’s name for their spear*
Giant Rabbit: ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!
Jaune: *Ears ringing*
Neo: *Points at Jaune’s crotch, mimes stabbing*
Jaune: *Pales* THAT’S PROBABLY THE MOST EVIL THOUGHT YOU’VE EVER HAD IN YOUR LIFE! *Neo pouts, mimes it again* I’M JUST SAYING, NOT JUDGING, LET’S DO IT! *Uses semblance*
Neo: *Commits murder most foul*
Jaune: *Whips out the wooden knife* I’M SO SORRY FOR THIS, YOU OVERGROWN FREAK OF NATURE! *Jumps on the screaming body of the mutated rabbit, starts stabbing*
~~5 Minutes Later~~
Jaune: *Covered in blood, wipes forehead* Phew. Killing something this big really takes it out of you.
Neo: *Covered in blood, staring at Jaune wide eyed*
Jaune: Kind of a shame he looks basically human. Save for his stupid head, I guess, because I kinda don’t wanna eat anything that’ll make me feel too cannibally. *Puts hand on chin, blood drips* But I kinda think this is like the Final Boss of those rabbits. Maybe chop his head off and put on a pike like you did with that poor little blue guy that seemed to be the other blue people’s chief? *Nods resolutely* Yeah, gotta establish dominance and fear in those godless little fucks. *Looks at Neo* What do you think, NeeeMMMMPPPHHH!!!
Neo: *Glomps Jaune, shoves her tongue into his mouth*
-----------------
Day 237
Neo: Gakgh gakgh gakgh!
----------------- 
Day 243
Jaune: Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, you like that don’t you? *Grabs Neo’s hair*
Neo: *Likes that very much*
-----------------
Day 249
Jaune: *Waggles knife* So, uh, aim for the kidneys?
Neo: *Nods emphatically*
Jaune: Huh. I guess I’ll test it out on Cinder. Thanks honey. *Kisses cheek*
Neo: *Swoons*
-----------------
Day 251
Jaune: *Naked, washing grumpy Neo’s hair* I really mean it! I am so sorry. Just, well, uh...okay, you give amazing head and I wasn’t expecting you to go for the balls. Or, uh, the other thing, but well, um *sighs* look, the taint thing was just really unexpected and I’m really sorry I came in your hair! *Blushes*
Neo: *Can’t help but be proud, leans into his hands*
-----------------
Day  268
Jaune: Is there no end to your flexibility!? *Chokes on air* Nope. Guess not.
Neo: *Doing the splits smugly*
-----------------
Day 274
Jaune: And that is why, despite what people say, Immortal Konflict is superior to Road Combatant!
Neo: *Nods seriously*
Jaune: Wanna play when we get back to Remnant, maybe after we kill Salem in her sleep or something?
Neo: *Nods excitedly*
Jaune: You’re the best! *Kisses temple* Ow, why are you hitting me, I thought you liked kisses!?
Neo: *Liking forehead and temple kisses but not wanting to admit it*
-----------------
Day 296
Jaune: *Cumming inside*
Neo: *Toes curl, signing ‘I Love You’ over and over again*
Jaune: *Panting* God I love you too, Neo.
Neo: *Gapes, signs*
Jaune: *Panting decreases* Uh, yeah? My Dad has permanent hearing damage from his Huntsman days. Some chick had a mortar-giant cudgel-battering ram weapon and you can guess about how well that went.
Neo: *Signs more*
Jaune: I-- *realizes* ohhhh. I get it. Uh, I didn’t even think about it. You never signed so I figured you never learned. Ow, my ass!
Neo: *Stops pinching his ass, signs again but slower*
Jaune: *Blushes brightly* Um, yeah. I did. Is that-- *Neo flips him onto his back, kissing him and rocking her hips*
-----------------
Day 338
Jaune: *Contently holding Neo* This really was the last thing I expected to happen. *Neo nods as she leans into him* I...I don’t think I can ever really not miss Pyrrha, or despise Cinder from the bottom of my soul.
Neo: *Signs rapidly that she feels the same way, that she misses Roman*
Jaune: Yeah. I know. *Clears throat* But I think it’s okay. I mean I didn’t expect this to happen, but I’m glad it did. *Snuggling occurs* We’re gonna get out of here. We’re putting Cinder in the dirt. Then we’re gonna do the same to Salem. Then buy a house.
Neo: *Signs*
Jaune: I’ve kinda been a country boy my whole life. It’s up to you *is headbutted* OW! *Neo rubs the back of her aching head, signs, Jaune rubs his chin* Then it’s decided.
*Enjoying each others presence*
----------------- 
Day 362
Weiss: Actually, the amount of slashes in the trees could just mean some new terrible creature of ridiculous origin could have made this area of the forest its stomping grounds.
Blake: *Flatly* As long it’s not the flying piranhas with steel teeth that drip acid, I’m fine.
Ruby: *Shudders* Please don’t remind me! I’m suppressing, Blake! Do you want to ruin fish sticks and mustard for me!?
Blake: *Grimaces* Yes.
Yang: *Ignores the bickering* Not gonna lie Weiss, after that giant crocodile with the crown and the cape and the penguin with the hammer, something a little more normal and horrific sounds just like home. *Adjusts cheetah print bikini, shifts hips under her grass skirt*
Weiss: *Eyebrow twitches* Right. Home. Which you clearly miss. *Eyes Yang’s flawless tan*
Yang: Huh? Well, yeah! Not to devalue the disaster we have waiting for us when we get back but I’m dying for a cheeseburger and a *in singsong* Strawberry Sunrise!
Ruby: *Cutting off Weiss and ignoring a fuming Blake* It could be Jaune though!
Weiss: Yes, possibly, but you have to consider the fact-- *Steps around tree, goes silent at the sounds*
Neo: *In a mating press clutching her feet, biting her lip and then silently moaning*
Jaune: *Going so hard he’s clapping Neo’s cheeks*
Weiss: --that maybe those living, spiny fruits got us again and we’re all on a very bad trip. *Can’t look away but wants to*
Ruby: *Blushes furiously*
Blake: *Covers nose, turns away*
Yang: I really wanna be there for our boy but *ignores Jaune’s cursing, Neo’s nodding and Jaune pushing in deep and creampieing the silently screaming mute* a really big part of me wants to punch him in his stupid face. Really!? Her!?
Blake: *Muffled* You sure you’re not just salty that it’s Neo?
Jaune: *Awkwardly, wide eyed but happy* Oh. Guys. Hey! Hi! *Weiss screeches as Jaune stands, Neo breathes heavily but grins smugly*
Yang: Nope. Not at all. *Clenching fist*
-----------------
Day 363
Yang: Okay. I’m cool with whole... *gestures at Neo and Jaune holding hands*  thing, because honestly I’d have to be a condescending and arrogant bitch to look down on you because of that, but really?
Ruby: Yang has a point, little blue people and psychotic but also really stupid rabbits and their super-duper-strong Daddy Rabbit? And you killed them alllll oh wow. *Staring at something that Jaune pulled from a bag* That’s a weird looking skull. *Whispering* Why does he have a skull!? Oh no, Neo really did corrupt him and not just with that!
Yang: *Gapes, recovers slowly, sarcastically* She is such a good influence on you Jaune.
Jaune: *Grinning* I know, right? I mean imagine if Neo wasn’t here with me! I probably would’ve survived but I would’ve been so depressed that I’d probably be coming back eyeless and with a ton of PTSD! And maybe a quirky catchphrase!
Yang: Because that’s important. *Rolls eyes* Besides, you couldn’t pull off a catchphrase to save your life.
Jaune: *Face goes slack, contorts stupidly in a scream* BWAAAAH!
Team RWBY: *Jerks*
Neo: *Bites Jaune’s pinky*
Jaune: OW-OW-OW! Take a joke, Neo!
Yang: No, yeah, pretty much on the shrimp’s side.
Weiss: I have no idea what that was but never do it again.
Blake: *Forgives Jaune and Neo for their crusade against the rabbits*
Ruby: *Giggling at the derp face Jaune made*
Jaune: Fine, fine, you win. *Pouting* Using their war cry would have been so insulting to their memory though.
Neo: *Smiling, kisses Jaune’s cheek, signs that he’s a big baby*
Weiss: Getting back to the point though, we didn’t think Jaune would be in nearly as good shape as he’s in now. In that regard I feel we owe Neopolitan a good deal of gratitude.
Blake: And like it or not Yang, having her not just be an enemy of Salem but actually on our side?
Yang: Yeah, well--
Ruby: Plus he’s happy! And I think he kind of needs it. *Sadly* We all do. A-and if Neo is what makes him happy, then I think I’m happy too.
Jaune: *Touched* Rubes...
Ruby: It hurts, Jaune. But I can’t imagine...well, I can’t imagine if it were me. So it’ll take time but the best thing I can do here is be happy for you and get us outta here! *Pumps fist*
Neo: *Signs rapidly*
Jaune: *Grins* And make Cinder and Salem unalive! And in the days leading to that, make them wish they were already dead!
Ruby: *Uncomfortable at the bloodlust* Umm...
Yang: Ah fuck it, you speak my language like that and I can’t stay mad at you! Let’s do it! *Slaps Blake’s ass*
Blake: *Yelps, blushes and glares at Yang* Is this really the time for that!?
Weiss: *Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut* Ah, the onset of a pounding headache. Truly the gang is back together again.
----------------- 
Day 365
Jaune: Kinda conveniant that exactly one year after falling into the mythical island of who knows where we find ourselves back in the real world, isn’t it?
Neo: *Hand on her hip, staring at him*
Yang: I’m with the midget. *Grass skirt swishes* Are you really about to complain we’re free of that hellhole?
Weiss: They have a point. After everything we fought there you’d think you would be more appreciative.
Jaune: I am. It just seemmmmpph! *Is kissed by Neo*
Neo: *Happily shuts Jaune up*
Ruby: Alright, let’s do this!
*Action pose except Yang’s tan, in a cheetah fur bikini and a grass skirt, Jaune has a handful of Neo’s ass and Neo is grabbing Jaune by the hair, clearly using tongue and Hushabye is aimed in a slightly red faced Blake’s direction*
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I got the chance to see the RWBY finale today and rather than be depressed and think about Penny, I decided I’d go ahead and write a Silent Knight fic instead. It’s all over the place but really, that’s to be expected since I went in with no plan. I know people are already bitching over on Reddit about Jaune possibly getting attention, but like with most people who dislike a character I decided to pay them no mind whatsoever.
Because honestly, with Dragonslayer never happening I’d be perfectly fine with Jaune x Neo.
As for this entire thing, I had way more fun with it than I should have and I hope anyone reading it has just as much fun as I did writing it.
Oh. And yes, there were plenty of Rabbids and Smurfs harmed in the creation of this lengthy drabble.
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theclockworkmonk · 3 years
Text
Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 4
Read on AO3
Read on FFNet
Chapter 1 on Tumblr
Chapter 2 on Tumblr
Chapter 3 on Tumblr
Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021
Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.
*******
Ginny had disappeared, dragged through the kitchen door, before Harry could come up with an excuse to keep her by his side. He sighed and took a long gulp from his glass of firewhiskey, welcoming the burning sensation down his throat. Whatever his family was so wound up about, Harry knew he wasn't in danger here, so he hoped the drink would dull his overactive auror instincts so he could enjoy the evening.
"So...how's the shop?" asked Harry, choosing to focus on George, "any accidental new body parts I can't see?"
"Harry, I'll have you know that we ascribe to only the highest of safety standards at Weasley Wizard Wheezes," said George with his nose in the air, "We strictly adhere to a dual-fault system to make sure a trained wizard is on-site to intervene in case of emergency."
"By that he means that he doesn't try any weird shit on himself without me there to rush him to St. Mungo's," said Ron with his mouth full, wincing as his mother smacked him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon for his language.
Harry's eyes narrowed at his best friend. "So you two are already partners now? Really wasting no time on bailing on me, aren't you?"
"Don't be a prat!" grumbled Ron. "No, like I said, it was just a thought that I had. You know, the kind of thought you would hope you could share with your best mate without him jumping down your throat?"
"Well I think it's a marvelous idea," Mrs. Weasley announced loudly from her place at the stove."
George's eyebrows shot up. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother? You're glad that another one of your sons is considering wasting his life at this silly business, instead of a respectable job at the Ministry?"
"Well, if said Ministry job involves chasing after Death Eaters every day," huffed Mrs. Weasley, "Then I suppose my nerves will take any alternative."
She sent a stern look towards Harry and pointed a threatening spoon at him, making him jump back. "You could do well to learn from Ron in that regard, Harry."
Ron was grinning ear to ear, bouncing in his seat from being the favorite child of the moment.
"There's nothing wrong with Ron doing the responsible thing." she lowered her voice to a grumble so Harry barely heard, "at least someone is."
Harry surveyed the tense atmosphere in the room again.
"Okay, what's got everyone in such a mood?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"No one's in a mood!" said Mrs. Weasley quickly.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley spoke up for the first time, and his voice too was less assuring than Harry usually found it. "I'm having trouble with a fascinating new muggle device I've discovered, would you mind giving me a hand out in the shed?"
"Oh. Sure," said Harry easily. Mr. Weasley got up from the table and led Harry outside. They entered the man's infamous tool shed, and Harry noticed new mechanical and electronic devices in various states of disassembly. Mr. Weasley gestured to his work table, where a VCR sat.
"I've heard that muggles use this to see recorded images, like a pensieve, but I've put in those black blocks, and nothing happens."
"Oh, well," said Harry, trying not to laugh, "You need to attach it to a television. It can't just work on its—"
He was interrupted by the door opening again, and Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley entering the shed which he always knew her to avoid, wanting nothing to do with her husband's "nonsense" tinkering.
"Molly, what are you doing here?" Mr. Weasley asked crossly, "We agreed we wouldn't. The boys—"
"I told them I was getting apples from the orchard," his wife said dismissively. She crossed the shed and looked beseechingly at a very surprised Harry.
"Harry, dear, you know how we think of you as a part of this family. We've been wanting to say….we hope that you don't think that has changed because of you and Ginny's relationship. We know young men have trepidation about 'the girlfriend's parents,' but you're not just our daughter's boyfriend to us, you're one of our own."
Harry was as touched as he was confused. "Th-Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said softly. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."
"And one reason we had no objection to you and Ginny dating," Mr. Weasley continued, "is that we trust you to always do right by Ginny. To always do what's best for her."
Harry looked back and forth between them, their expressions pointed and expecting.
"Well — ehem — I'll remember that. I promise to never do anything to hurt her." He meant it.
There was another moment of silence before Mrs. Weasley spoke up again.
"Sooooo…." she prompted. "We just want you to be aware that….should you decide to propose…you wouldn't have to worry—"
"What!?" Harry's heart leapt into his throat and he knew his face had turned scarlet. "Oh, no no," he said, putting his hands up. "I'm glad to have your blessing, but we're not ready to think about that yet."
Harry rubbed his neck nervously. It was only a half-lie. In truth, Harry was ready to think about that. He thought about proposing to Ginny damn near every day, in fact. But he was fairly certain that Ginny was still years away from being ready. She was fiercely proud of her independence and she was still dealing with the papers referring to her as "Harry Potter's girlfriend" before "star Harpies Chaser," even without marriage.
Mr. Weasley sighed in what seemed like disappointment and Mrs. Weasley's mouth thinned and her expression turned sour.
"Well...the roast should be done, we should all head back inside."
The Weasleys led the way out of the shed and Harry cautiously followed them. When they arrived back in the kitchen, Harry saw Bill shoot his father a stern, questioning look, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Mr. Weasley shake his head grimly, and Bill and Charlie gave Harry a glare that would make Mad-Eye Moody quake in his boots.
Harry froze and all the breath left his body. It suddenly all made sense. He was the thing that the Weasleys were so on edge about. Ginny's parents inquiring about him marrying her.
They had somehow found out that he and Ginny were living together.
Harry suddenly felt like a sheep in a cage with several wolves.
"Hey mum," said Charlie, "while you were outside, Aunt Muriel floo-called and said that the gnomes are in her attic again. Apparently she's upset at the way dad tried to take care of it last time."
"Is she sure it's actually the gnomes, or is it the doxies nesting in her hair?" Mr. Weasley grumbled as his wife shooed him into their sitting room and through their fireplace. Harry's heart was thudding in his chest as the few Weasleys he could count on to not murder him due to this secret getting out abandoned him with the curse breaker, dragon tamer, master prankster, and Ministry power-broker.
Several murderous eyes turned towards Harry.
"Look...er…" Harry stammered. "I really thought that, after everything, we had all moved past the whole 'overprotective big brothers' routine."
"Yeah, we thought we had too," said Charlie darkly, "but mum and dad's diplomatic approach clearly didn't work, so the gloves are off. I guess we never figured that the savior of the bloody wizarding world would do this to our sister."
George snorted, still finding this whole thing quite amusing. "Sorry, do this to her? Harry's the real victim here. Ginny's a nightmare already, can you imagine what living with her will be like now?"
"What the hell are you lot talking about?" Ron cut in, looking around the room in confusion.
"I think your brothers have become aware of me and Ginny's...status change," said Harry.
"Oh, that is just so typical!" huffed Hermione, crossing her arms and adopting her lecturing pose. "Ginny is perfectly capable of handling her own life and she doesn't need a bunch of chest-beating men to defend an outdated notion of her 'honour!' I still can't believe how sexist magical society can be sometimes."
"Yes, Hermione, our world is sexist, whether we like it or not" said Bill, not backing down. "You can pontificate all you want about how it's not right, or a double standard, but once the public finds out about this — and sooner or later, they will," he shot another glare at Harry, as if he wrote to the papers about it himself, "then it will change how people see her. And since she's a Quidditch star, the way people see her matters."
"Yup, can see the headlines now," George sighed dramatically, "the ambitious social climber Ginevra Weasley, raised in a pauper's home, so she used her feminine wiles to land herself this sweet gig."
"Look, ultimately, it's none of our business — no, I'm serious!" Ron finished in response to his brothers' looks of betrayal. "Look, Bill, Charlie, you two were only around when Ginny was a little girl. You didn't go to school with her. You never saw first-hand what happens when you try to meddle in her life to defend her virtue, trust me." He shivered a bit, as he remembered the traumatic memory.
"I don't even understand why we have to meddle," said Percy, "I just don't understand your logic, Harry. There's no question you would be willing to throw yourself into mortal danger all over again to protect Ginny. What you're hesitating to do is comparatively easy."
"His reasons don't matter, he should have thought of that earlier," said Charlie, pointing a threatening finger at Harry. "I don't care if this makes me a hypocrite, but you're going to do the right thing and—"
Ginny suddenly burst into the room, causing every word to fall silent. Harry knew that Ginny always hated it when people were obviously talking about her, but as he started towards her, he was surprised when he saw that her eyes were watery with tears. Ignoring all of the eyes on her, she ran straight towards Hermione, throwing her arms around her friend.
"Erm, is something wrong?" asked Hermione. She threw a questioning look to Fleur as she followed Ginny into the kitchen, but the young mother looked just as confused as anyone as she took Victoire back from Bill.
Instead of answering Hermione's question, Ginny withdrew from the hug and smacked Ron upside the head.
"Ah! What the shit!" Ron cried, rubbing the back of his head.
"Ronald, language!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, re-entering the kitchen along with her husband, making the room quite crowded.
"That's your main concern?" asked Ron, "Not the unwarranted physical assault?"
"It's not unwarranted, it's for being a stupid, forgetful git!" barked Ginny
She walked up to Harry and took his glass of firewhiskey, still mostly intact.
"I need this more than you," she informed him, and began to raise the glass to her lips.
"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!"
Mrs. Weasley's ear-piercing shriek caused everyone in the room to wince, and Ginny momentarily jumped behind Harry for protection. "Merlin's balls, WHAT!?"
"Molly…" Mr. Weasley cautioned.
"DO NOT 'MOLLY' ME, ARTHUR!" his wife shouted back. She had a crazed look in her eye and she was pulling at her hair. She rounded on Harry and Ginny.
"We have tried to be respectful, but you two are clearly not ready for this kind of responsibility! I am so disappointed in you both for not taking this more seriously! You haven't even given a thought to how this will affect your careers!"
"Our careers?" asked Harry, confused. "How would that possibly—"
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had gotten it completely wrong about what the Weasleys were talking about. The talk about responsibility, their careers, affects to Ginny's public image.
Somehow, the family had gotten word about the "honour" bestowed upon Harry by the Wizengamot, and all the implications that had for his and Ginny's future together. He supposed it wasn't too surprising that Arthur or Percy had heard about it through their Ministry connections.
He looked sideways at Ginny, and from one look he knew that she had come to the same realization. Both their faces split into wide grins as relief flooded through them that all of this drama was over something so silly. Apparently, the family somehow had the absurd idea that Harry would keep the title and actually take the status, power, and responsibilities being offered to him.
Harry and Ginny cracked up into delirious laughter, leaning on each other for support, which did nothing to help the livid look on Mrs. Weasley's face.
"Oh Merlin's beard, is that what has you all concerned? Don't worry about that," laughed Harry, waving one hand dismissively and wrapping the other around Ginny's shoulder.
"I mean, come on, we're obviously not keeping it!"
There was a moment of silence, then the entire kitchen exploded.
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moonlit-imagines · 4 years
Text
Headcanons for Friends to Lovers with Rodrick Heffley
Rodrick Heffley x reader
warnings: mentions of a bad home life
a/n: YALL I FUVKING DID IT AND IM TERRIFIED OF THE REPERCUSSIONS
prompt: y/n and rodrick have been friends for a long time, so long boundaries seem to be blurred
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you’ve actually known rodrick since elementary school
it all started when he asked you to join his band
“i can play drums, you can play the tambourine because that’s the only other instrument i have! it’ll be wicked!”
your band lasted a week and only had one gig, it was for rodrick’s parents
who LOVED you by the way
they somehow permitted you to sleepover almost every other day, you practically lived at their house
FOR YEARS you did this
terrorizing lil greg
“what’s he gonna do, pee his diaper?”
“rodrick!!!”
always trick or treating together, exchanging candy when you got back go his house (or occasionally yours)
you guys didnt like hanging at your house, your parents were kind of....a lot to handle
starting middle school together, wreaking havoc on all the teachers
rodrick did it to impress you, according to mr. and mrs. heffley
but he’d give you a stupid little smirk from across the classroom after he got scolded so you believed them
whenever anyone gave you shit at school, rodrick wouldn’t hesitate to step in and show them who’s boss
“rodrick, you’re gonna get detention again!”
“yeah, well, i’m not gonna let them be mean to you”
you went to his house after school most days, sometimes you’d get there first while he was in detention
mrs. heffley had after school snacks
“y/n, why don’t you play some video games with greg while you wait for rodrick to get home?”
playing wii sports with greg, who cried when you won
you also had time to do homework while you waited, rodrick usually copied afterwards
when rodrick came home, he’d drag you to the garage to show you his drum skills
he hit himself in the head with his drumstick
“ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark”
next step was high school, which was a weird step up
but you guys had each other
you still spent most nights at the heffley residence, but you had to sleep on the couch instead of on the floor in the attic (aka rodricks lair)
“you two are growing up, so we think it’s best that you don’t sleep in the same room together, right?”
rodrick emptied one of his drawers for you to put your clothes in
but you still end up stealing his clothes half the time
“i wish i could be mad, but you wear all of my clothes better than me”
subconsciously doing couple-y things without realizing it
like rodrick would pull you closer to him when you two were together, put his arm around you, give you his jacket, etc
“are you guys serious? you’ve got to be dating!” -everyone
“rodrick, when are you and y/n going to get together?” -mr. and mrs. heffley
the answer was always the same: “we’re just friendssssss”
watching his band practice and cheering him on no matter what
you’re his guest vocals ☺️
when he got the van, it was a whole new world for you guys
you could go out wherever whenever
(with parent approval usually)
“wanna go ride around for a little while? hit a gas station and get a bunch of candy?”
“do you even have to ask?”
watching scary movies in his room
“platonic” cuddling in his bed
stuffing your face in the crook of his neck during scary scenes
“come on, y/n! it’s not that bad!”
him having to hold onto you for comfort so you’d keep watching with him
sometimes falling asleep together and his mom or dad coming to check on you later
“alright, time for bed! y/n, you get your usual couch...”
laughing your ass off at rodrick when he messes with greg
manny loves you, sometimes rodrick is jealous of the attention you give to his baby brother instead of him
rodrick scooping you up in his arms when you least expect it, never fails to make you scream
“hey there, hot stuff”
“you’re impossible!”
roller skating together, he held your hand the whole time bc he was worried you’d fall
his friends ENDLESSLY taunt him over your relationship
when he makes plans with others, he always says “let me ask y/n first” which just SENDS his friends oh my god
“dude, that’s your s/o!”
“no, they’re not! shut up!”
hating being apart a lot its so stressful
sometimes you’d have a pretty hard time at home and show up to his house at odd hours, but you were always welcome
you have your own key
“hey, what’s wrong?”
“my parents...they’re just the worst”
rodrick knows its bad when you start crying
he took you up to his room and played some music (quietly as not to wake the house)
you laid on top of him while he rubbed your back and told you that he was there for you
dozing off on him, as per usual
dude, the amount of pictures you have? astronomical
you playing his drums, the two of you going 🤘, an actual nice picture of you guys, him carrying you on his back, kiddos on your first day of school by year, you kissing his cheek “platonically”
comforting him when he was having his own hard times, whether it be an argument with his parents/greg, difficulties with musical inspiration, or anything else
“come here, you need a hug”
“i need several”
“you’ll get ‘em”
talent show! talent show! talent show!
you completely cussed out the rest of his band before they went on bc they had the audacity to replace him
but greg managed to save the day
“greg, my dude, give me a high five, that was awesome”
he wasn’t actually half bad but like, his mom kinda stole the show
more joyrides in the van
absolutely BLASTING the music in there while you and rodrick sat on the floor in the back and ate the taco bell you’d just picked up
“dude, you gotta try my potato griller, it’s a godsend”
“okay, but try this slushie, its so good. i mean, not as good as a 7-eleven slushie, but it’s up there”
finishing your food and laying in the van for another hour bc you just loved each other’s company
but after sitting together alone for so long, you felt like there was something left to do, what was it?
you and rodrick were moving around a bunch and ended up next to each other sitting against the wall of the van
you looked over at each other and hesitated before leaning in to kiss
and you guys kissed for a while
okay, so, you made out on the floor of his van with led zeppelin playing in the background
✨magical✨
it wasn’t awkward or anything, just long overdue
okay it was a little awkward actually
“well, that was” *clears throat* “that was cool or whatever”
“yeah...wanna do it again?”
“oh, for sure”
not like it was a surprise to anyone when you announced you were FINALLY dating
“wait, you guys just started dating? i thought you’d been together for like, at least 5 years” -mr. heffley
“this is great! obviously, we’ll need to set up some boundaries so that everyone is comfortable and safe, but yay for young love!” -mrs. heffley
“gross” -greg
mrs. heffley wrote a column in the newspaper about you titled “my teenage son’s fantastic significant other”
not much changed after you and rodrick got together, just kissing, “i love you’s” and more teasing from friends and school faculty
“we were all rooting for you two, actually!” -the teachers
summer vacation with him
it was always SWEET
going to the pool together, he’d usually lay out on the chairs with you but you were able to drag him into the pool a few times
“come onnnn, it’ll be funnnn”
“you’re lucky you’re cute”
hugs from behind!!! kisses on the top of ur head!!!!
PROM AH HAH HAH
seeing rodrick in a tux was too funny for you, you almost couldn’t stop laughing (especially at the eyeliner he insisted on wearing)
but he just couldn’t stop staring at you
“rodrick!”
“what?! you’re stunning!”
honestly, prom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be
you danced like maniacs for a few songs and ended up ditching early on
but you did end up renting a bunch of movies and getting tonssss of snacks and changing into pajamas as soon as you got to his house
im talking popcorn, candy bars, ice cream, cans of pop, chips, chicken nuggets and so on
and also passing out on each other
“i think i love you a little more, i didn’t know that was possible”
“i have that effect on people”
he makes u breakfast before his mom gets the chance though
“pancakes? for me?”
“i put chocolate chips in them too, you’re gonna love them”
(they were a lil bit burned, still good tho)
you guys really did just spot on get each other
okay but i know you also roast each other sometimes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
relationship goals, honestly
fresh outta ideas 🤠 goodnight
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gandrewheadcannons · 3 years
Text
I wanted to share some writing I had done earlier this summer with you all! If you like it let me know if I should continue? It’s meant to be a story focusing around the beginning of their time in Washington and into the podcast. I’ve left it at a really weird stop but that’s all I had so far.
Title: Undetermined
Pairing: Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki
Tags: Mention of prescription medicine, mention of Jeffree/Shane/Ryland, unfinished
Evening is dimly creeping through the half-opened windowpane casting a glow across the built-in table connected to the cramped inner wall of Andrew's microscopic kitchenette. His studio apartment in LA sat cramped in-between Hollywood and Calabasas, a mediocre waypoint for his work for the last few years. He clicks the viewfinder and focuses on the bright oranges and yellows that dance teasingly across the glittering tabletop; catching flicks of sliver and reflecting them back to the lens. A mug of dark roast with just an edge of too much cream is left forgotten in the corner of the frame. It feels cinematic and lonely all at once. The cafe style booth he sits in causes his back to ache, the rest of the kitchen a sterile and unforgiving white, but he misses capturing the day to day beauty the world had to offer. He imagines the reel being played back with a layered sound of twinkling windchimes, quiet laughter and a piano reverb with cuts of the morning sunrise on a hike and steam off the top of a ceramic mug. A familiar face with flecks of blonde in the beard, strong jawed and a roguish smile weaving in and out of the frame, turning back to laugh at something the cameraman said.
“-with a mandate like this.” Garrett is brushing his teeth through Facetime. Andrew catches the corner of his bamboo toothbrush flashing in and out of the lens. He must have laid his Iphone flat on the countertop because when Andrew really looks he can see the bottom of the mirror and a bunch of bright light.
“I know. It sucks. Couldn’t get honey the other day, man. Fucking honey. It’s not like the bees are going anywhere.” He laughs but it doesn’t feel funny. The minimal supply he had was dwindling thin. He was beginning to ration his meals and he wasn’t sure how much toilet paper was left under the bathroom sink. It was all very apocalyptic without any of the zombies or scientists swooping in with immediate remedies.
“Ah dude.” Garrett spits and there’s a tapping sound like he’s hitting his toothbrush on the edge of the porcelain sink before he fully pops into frame. He looks relaxed, sandy hair flopped to one side and beard properly scruffy though they’d only been locked down about a week and a half now. “I know. I can’t handle it anymore. I miss people.” Andrew hums at that. He doesn’t really. He misses the occasional gathering, sure, but he hadn’t quite placed his anxiety surrounding the idea of seeing others since they’d released the Jeffree series. "What was it that bothered you most about taking part in this?" His therapist had asked him. "I missed the fun," he’d answered. "What was the fun?" She’d pressed deeper. "Garrett," Andrew had been quick to reply. "And like. Everyone else too." He'd added when she hadn't said anything. "I miss it not feeling work." She had let him talk about that instead.
"Some people." He tacks on to Garrett who hums easily. He doesn’t think he misses many of the people he’d spent most of 2019 with, his life a mixed cocktail of Ambien, Adderall and Lexapro without any feelings of relaxation manifesting. His psychiatrist had discouraged upping his doses anymore and by early January she began urging him to begin seeking new opportunities to “work on his environment”. He hadn’t quite figured out the avenue to take to do just that.
"Well, some people." Garrett agrees and he's already back out on his couch. "I don't know how many more times I can watch Winter Soldier before I freak out." Garrett sighs. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Same as you and every other person." He turns his camera off. He needs the break from the screen.
"I miss you." Garrett is easy like that. He isn't ashamed to tell people how he feels in every moment. It was something to be admired and yet Andrew just felt envy at it. When Garrett had begun to slip away from him, melting like honeydew sweet and sour into a depth of a place where Andrew couldn't quite find him, he'd only managed to grab him back out by Garrett's honesty. Doesn't know if they'd be having this conversation if Garrett hadn't used that honesty like an anchor and letting Andrew catch him last minute with it.
"I can come over." Andrew offers. He hates being confined in these walls anyways. It was hollow and dark. The email from Shane still sat open on his Mac across the room on his bed. Thinking of extending the break, can't really decide. Want to get quarantined together? I have a few video ideas we could maybe mess around with or just film some day to day footage until creativity strikes us it reads. His skin itches for the company but the image of their guest room makes him uneasy. Doesn't know if he could withstand being there with very little to fill his hands with, editing complete and no real ideas on the table for the time being.
"I can come to you." Garrett offers like he was inconveniencing Andrew who had offered anyways.
"If you touch your car right now I am going to freak out Garrett Watts." Andrew admonishes. "The second they open up the garages and mechanics again I'm making you take that thing there, burn it and we get a new one." He's opening a duffle now and throwing in his travel toiletries and a few pairs of underwear.
"Oh come on Andrew it's not so bad." Garrett laughs as if Andrew wasn't still reeling from the aftermath phone call of Garrett nearly wrecking on the 101 barreling top speeds until he reached a secluded patch of grass to slow his Pirus down onto. By the time Andrew heard the story Garrett was okay; Michael had gone to pick him up and Garrett was sending pictures of little Star Wars figurines that Michael kept mounted on his dashboard. His heart didn’t calm until he had managed to get his hands on Garrett in person though, sneaking out for an afternoon to grab some coffee with Garrett before heading back to Shane’s to finish editing. His shins still feel heavy with the weight of Garrett’s calf as he’d pressed their knees together until the table while they’d talked – the weight reminding him of how alive and okay Garrett really was.
"Oh yeah a car that dies out randomly is really great." Andrew throws in a box of protein bars and a Gatorade into his bag. He hesitates before grabbing a stitched bear made from gray yarn, green buttons for eyes luring him in. "I'll be over soon." He doesn't know how well the conversation will hold up over Facetime as he's moving.
"Okay cool Andrew." Garrett's eyes are soft. "See you soon. My dad is actually calling."
"Tell him I said hi. See you soon." He so easily could tack on endearment, babe at the tip of his tongue burning hot. Garrett's ending the call before Andrew even has the chance.
**
The half opened can of frosting is across from, the only lights on are the ones twinkling from some intricate set up Garrett had on a shelf. Garrett’s on the third loop of the home screen on Prime, humming thoughtfully whenever he pauses on a summary to read but then continuing to scroll before picking one. He’s slumped down low, long legs kicked out on the coffee table while Andrew is curled up in a ball against his side. Once, Caleb had pointed out that if people didn’t know them they’d get the impression that they were dating. Garrett and Andrew had awkwardly laughed at that comment, tinged with humiliation at how their relationship was being interpreted. They tried to be better then, not letting themselves fall so in sync when other people were around.
Andrew loved it like this though, when it was just him and Garrett, so he could press his cheek into Garrett’s bicep and not have to question why it felt so right. In his left hand his phone illuminated with another message from Shane. Opening it he read a message about how much they all missed him and wanted him there during this time. Apparently Ryland was looking for someone to help film a video he had planned. He quickly shut the screen off and pulled back from Garrett some, his stomach in a sudden tangle of knots.
“Good?” Garrett asked him looking down. His crew neck was for Spokane and looked a little like the Taco Bell logo from when they were younger. He’d paired it with a pair of sweat shorts for the night as they were both supposed to be going to bed soon. Andrew picked at his own Adidas track pants, imagining a loose thread to busy his hands.
“You ever just. Feel like you gotta get out?” He tilts his head to the side and watches Garrett pause what he’s doing with his Playstation controller and set it carefully on his coffee table.
“In what way?” He asks thoughtfully, turning so his chest was open to Andrew. Their knees bumped and Andrew felt like a little boy when he wished he could crawl and hide in the empty space of Garrett’s lap.
“Like okay. Say you just really loved what you used to do. You basically achieved your dream job. You have all these amazing people, you like your boss, things are going really great and you’re making a lot of money.”
“You buy yourself a really good vacuum.” Garrett plays along teasingly causing them both to laugh.
“You get yourself those stackable containers for your meal prepped lunches.” Andrew plays back. “But then…” He runs his tongue inside his teeth then outside methodically. He searches his brain to try to figure out what to say to Garrett to
“Then?” He drums his fingers on Andrew’s knees to get him back to the present.
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official-weasley · 3 years
Text
Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 2
WARNINGS: bad parenting, Bill being awkward, Fred, George and Charlie being the best siblings 🤭
Chapter 2 - Bill's Surprise
“Did you pack your books?”
“What books?” Theodora asked her mother, puzzled.
“For school.” Mrs. Cork sighed.
“Why would I need my school books for the summer?” Theodora frowned. “I am coming back home before the school year starts.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to revise a little.” Mrs. Cork crossed her arms on her chest.
“Mum, I’m doing fine at school.” Theodora tried hard not to roll her eyes.
She got 6 O.W.L.s in her fifth year and she passed all her classes with better marks than she expected and her mother was still nagging her. She is comparing her youngest to her eldest too much. Theodora’s brother was the best in his year in every class and he’s getting a promotion at work.
Theodora has been home for 14 days and it’s all her mother talks about. Theodora found out about the promotion before anyone else because Eric wrote to her the second he got the news.
As much as she’s happy for him, that much her mother is getting on her nerves for it. She might be 17 but Mrs. Cork still acts as if she’s 11 and is hoping Theodora might follow her brother’s footsteps or at least go back to her dream when she was a second-year – becoming a Curse Breaker.
Theodora still remembers the conversation she had with her mother last year when she told her that she is not joining Eric in America nor going to work for the Wizarding Bank. She was mustering the courage to tell her she changed her mind for a week before sitting her down and to say that her mother was disappointed in her decision was an understatement.
Theodora knew she isn’t going to support her new career choice but she didn’t care. She found her passion and she is going to follow it. Dad did the same – an inspired Magizoologist trying to write a book about all magical creatures in Asia. And what did her mother do when he told her about his journey? She filed for divorce instead of supporting him.
The only thing Theodora and Eric have of their dad now is his monthly letters and a few pictures per year as their mother doesn't even allow him to visit.
Theodora used to ask herself why Eric didn’t take an Auror job here in England. Why go all the way across the Atlantic? Now that she saw her mother in her true form – being alone with her ever since Eric finished school – she understood that he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.
“You can always do better.” Mrs. Cork pursed her lips, watching her daughter’s every move while she was putting clothes in her trunk.
“I’ll take the books if it’ll make you happy.” Theodora tried her hardest to keep her voice casual.
The last thing she needed was for her mother to change her mind and her being stuck in this house with her because of it.
“Molly will write to me every week to let me know how you are behaving. You be nice while you’re there and don’t you dare step out of line.” Mrs. Cork raised her voice.
“Ok, mum.” Theodora bowed her head.
She couldn’t wait to spend the Summer at the Burrow with her best friends and their siblings. Mrs. Weasley is strict but at least she is a loving mum.
Theodora didn’t even bother to wait and see if her mother is going to hug her. She took the trunk outside, took her jacket off the hanger just in case there would be a chilly summer night, and turned to the door where her mother stood, her arms still crossed on her chest.
If Theodora didn’t know any better, she would say that she was judging her. She hated how her mother watched her every movement and thanked Godric – for what seemed the tenth time this morning – that the twins convinced her to spend the summer at the Burrow.
“Well, bye.” Theodora waved awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.
Her mother gave a small nod and after a sigh, Theodora apparated to her summer destination.
“What’s wrong?”
The second Theodora appeared in front of the Burrow the twins came out of the house. She was half an hour late and they have been looking through the window, awaiting her arrival.
Fred took her trunk without even asking, taking it inside, while George stayed behind, his hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to answer his question.
“Thank you.” Was all she said, pulling George into a tight hug.
At first, it seemed like a good idea but when she felt her eyes burn, ready to release the tears, she quickly pulled away. She didn’t want to cry in front of him.
She only did so once, when she broke up with her boyfriend last year, and the second a tear ran down her cheek, Fred and George had their wands ready, prepared to hex the hell out of the boy who broke her heart.
“That bad, huh?” George put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his head to look her in the eyes.
“You have no idea.” Theodora shook her head. “She’s insane. No wonder dad left.”
“Whoa, what happened?” Fred said from the doorway. “Did she give you a hard time again?” He frowned.
Theodora only nodded. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to talk about it.
“Come on, let’s get you in. Mum just made lemonade and we can talk about it in our room.” Fred grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
He swung his hand, inviting her inside. The second she stepped through the door, she started to feel better. The whole house smelled like roast beef and baked potatoes. If her mother allowed her, she would be here all the time and probably only go home when Eric would come to visit from America.
“Theodora, dear. Welcome back!” Before she could take another step Molly welcomed her with one of her famous embraces. “Arthur and I were just discussing this morning when was the last time you were here.”
“The summer after our second year.” Theodora smiled widely.
Mrs. Weasley made her feel so welcomed that she already felt better.
“She was only here once, mum,” Fred added.
“You have to come more often, dear. You might just be the only person to keep these two in line.” Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and looked at the twins.
Theodora giggled upon seeing the irritated expression on Fred and George’s faces.
“Where’s your trunk?” Their mum asked after looking for it on the floor.
“I already took it to our room,” Fred answered for her.
“Your room?” Molly frowned. “Don’t even think about it! Theodora will stay with Ginny.”
“Oh, come on, mum!” George whined. “You know we’re only friends. We’re just going to work,” he bit his tongue at the last second as he forgot that their mum had no idea what the trio had in store for this summer, “on stuff.”
“You know the rules, George.” Molly raised her voice. “She is sleeping in Ginny’s room and that’s final.” With that, she turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, we’ll sneak you in our room when she goes to sleep,” Fred whispered to Theodora, making her giggle.
Before she could even ask where the others are, she was dragged into the twins’ room.
“We have about three hours before supper and we need your help.” George sat on the floor.
Theodora was surprised he found a spot that wasn’t covered with their products, prototypes, wrappers, or parts.
“What’s on your mind?” Theodora pushed a big box with Boxing Telescopes away so she could sit down next to George.
“We have been trying for days to make the Screaming Yo-yo stop screaming.” Fred sighed and opened the drawer of his desk.
“Isn’t that the point?” Theodora chuckled.
“The yo-yo is supposed to scream when you release it but stop once it’s wrapped up again,” George explained.
“Didn’t we already fix this?” Theodora tried to remember.
They have been working and developing so many new products over the past year that some of them have been a blur for Theodora. She remembers all too well getting punched by one of those telescopes in the box. She remembers how happy they were when their Smoke Pastille finally had the right thickness of the smoke.
With Arthur’s help, without him even knowing about it, they perfected the Electric Shock Shake and she could swear the yo-yo already gave them trouble.
“We fixed the fact that it doesn’t fall apart once you roll it up and down twice.” Fred rubbed his chin.
“But now it doesn’t stop screaming even if one puts it down.” George frowned, now holding one in his hand.
“Can we do a timed Silencing Charm?” Theodora thought out loud.
“Explain,” the twins said together, sitting closer to her.
“Well, we want the yo-yo only to scream once unrolled, right?” They both nodded. “So all we would have to do is put a Silencing Charm on it in a way that it mutes the screaming when the string rolls back up.”
Theodora didn’t know what to make of their faces. Fred was staring at her, his eyes wide open. George’s eyes switched between her and the yo-yo in his hand, forgetting how to close his mouth.
“That’s brilliant.” The twins said in unison.
“So you know how to do it?” Theodora sounded impressed.
“Nah,” George swung his hand, “we’ll ask Bill after dinner. He’s good with Charms.”
“Let me try.” Theodora took the yo-yo out of George’s hand.
She would rather spend an entire night trying to fix the product on her own than work with Bill on it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough around him to pull anything off.
Theodora has been nervous for days now, knowing Bill is coming home. She hated feeling this way but she couldn’t help it either. She kept wondering how Bill looks like now and if he is as sweet as she remembers him being.
Last night, before coming here, she couldn’t stop thinking about him and she tried figuring out why was she so hooked on the eldest Weasley. Was it because he looked so cool in his leather jacket or because he was a Curse Breaker? Was it because he was cute or simply because he was so much older than her?
No matter how much she tried beating her head around it, she couldn’t figure it out, which only made her more nervous.
“Blimey, Theo, you did it!” George gasped when they tried spinning the yo-yo for what seemed like the 100th time.
Their ears were hurting and their eyes were burning not taking a break since they started. After trying the Silencing Charm more times they could count and casting it on different parts of the yo-yo, Theodora’s last attempt did the trick.
“Dinner!” They heard Molly shout from downstairs.
Theodora put her hands over her face, trying to close her eyes for a few seconds. She didn’t want to come down looking like a mummy.
“Race you downstairs!” George laughed and hastily opened the door.
“Child,” Fred said with a smile on his face and ran after his brother.
Theodora did the same and they pushed each other on their way down, all trying to get to the kitchen first. Because of Fred’s hand over his face, George didn’t see Theodora move in front of him and he stumbled across her leg and started rolling down the stairs.
Panicking, he grabbed his brother by the shirt and pulled him with him. Fred didn’t want to be the only one falling so he put his hand around Theodora and they landed at the bottom of the stairs as if a bowling ball hit the pins.
One look at one another and they all started laughing. They tried getting up but their legs were somehow tangled and instead of trying harder they only laughed louder.
“Idiots.” A familiar voice made Theodora look up.
“Charlie!” She exclaimed.
Charlie who was leaning on a pillar next to the stairs pushed himself away, took a step closer, and offered Theodora a hand to help her get up.
“I will ask you again, why are you friends with these two?” He asked, pointing at the twins.
“They grew on me.” Theodora shrugged her shoulders playfully before giving Charlie a hug.
“I missed you, Theo. When are you coming to visit me in Romania?” Charlie grinned.
“Back off, Charlie, she’s our friend.” Fred teased his older brother.
“Hi.” The four of them turned around to see Bill standing in the doorway.
Theodora’s heart started beating faster. All her hope that her silly crush on Bill ended was diminished within seconds. She has been mentally preparing to see Bill again, but she was not ready at all for what she was looking at.
Bill’s hair was in a loose ponytail, gracefully falling over his shoulder. He had a fang earring and his left eyebrow was halved. He was wearing a different leather jacket then she remembered, along with black jeans, and were those leather boots?
She opened her mouth to say something but with her heart in her throat she couldn’t even sigh.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Bill said politely.
His gentle smile weakened her knees and suddenly the idea of spending the entire summer alone with her mother didn’t seem that bad. How will she be able to be around him for 2 whole months? She knew herself too well to know she won’t have the strength to do it.
Bill took a step toward her and offered his hand to shake. Theodora shook her head, trying to focus but got confused. Did Bill not remember her?
Her heart sank. Even if she wanted to she couldn’t deny that if that was the case, it hurt. She might not have been at the Burrow for years but is she that unmemorable?
Her palms were sweaty due to how nervous she was, so she wiped them in her jeans before extending her hand at Bill, not knowing what else to do. It’s better she goes along with it, pretending that she doesn’t know who he is either than making a fool out of herself by mocking him how he doesn’t remember her.
Before their hands could come together into a handshake, Fred put his fingers around her wrist, taking her hand away.
“Bill, have you fallen off a pyramid? Don’t you remember Theo?” He looked at his eldest brother with a raised brow.
“Theodora?” Bill sounded astounded.
He blinked at her a few times, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.
Theodora looked at the other three Weasley brothers, not knowing what to do or say. Charlie was biting his lip, red in the face trying hard not to burst out laughing. Fred slammed his hand against his forehead and George’s eyes were filling with tears as he too, was trying to keep his mouth closed. If she was completely honest, she had no idea what exactly was happening.
“Hey.” She waved awkwardly at Bill.
“You...you’ve changed,” Bill mumbled, still completely awestruck, realizing the girl he is looking at isn’t 13 anymore.
“Thanks.” Theodora couldn’t get rid of the puzzled expression on her face.
“I...I mean...you...you’re all grown up.” Bill breathed.
He was acting as if it was strange that she is now taller, more developed and her hair is longer. Bill couldn’t believe how much she changed. She was barely a teenager when he last saw her and he remembers how passionate she was about Curse Breaking asking him different questions for days.
He loved answering every single one of them because she reminded him so much of Charlie when he was talking about dragons.
This hairdo was better than the bangs and the bob she had back then. She was cuter with longer hair, beautiful even. Bill tried to remember if she was really the same age as his two younger brothers. Standing next to them, she looked at least two years older than them. She wasn’t a girl anymore, she was a grown-up woman.
Charlie and the twins couldn’t hold in the laughter anymore and were now standing behind Theodora gasping for air. They couldn’t believe Bill didn’t recognize her. The last time Charlie saw her was also that summer that she stayed over but he didn’t have trouble remembering who she was.
“Are you going to say you recognized her at once?” Bill rolled his eyes, annoyed that they were making fun out of him.
“Yes! I don’t know what you were looking at.” Charlie came closer to Bill and put his arm around his shoulder.
“I...” Bill’s jaw dropped, scanning Theodora with his eyes again. “Oh, shut up.”
“I can’t believe you actually wanted to introduce yourself to her.” Fred was clutching at his stomach, still laughing.
“And you used your special charming smile on her too!” George added.
“I did not!” Bill tried defending himself, his face red as a tomato.
“Oh, you totally did.” Charlie joined in on the teasing.
Bill shook his shoulders, making Charlie’s arm fall off them. Why did he decide to spend half of his summer at home was beyond him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, Theodora.” He turned to her, looking embarrassed.
“It’s okay.” She chuckled. “It happens.”
She still didn’t know what to think of it. It can’t be a good thing that he didn’t remember her at all. But then again why should she care, Bill was too cool and too old for her anyway. She is just being silly.
“How did you know who she was?” Bill turned to Charlie.
“She joined the Quidditch team when I was in my seventh year. One of the best Chasers I had a chance to play with.” He grinned at Theodora.
That compliment meant a lot to her. Even though she didn’t plan to pursue Quidditch professionally she still loved the sport and she couldn’t wait for the tournament.
“Oh, Charlie that reminds me...” This was her chance to stir the conversation in a different direction. This whole fiasco has been awkward enough as it was, she didn’t want to be reminded once more that Bill was completely clueless about who she was. “...I apologize for not answering your last letter. I knew you were going to be at the Burrow.”
“No problem, Theo.” Charlie swung his hand, letting her know she shouldn’t worry about it.
“You two send each other letters?” Fred and George said together. “You didn’t tell them?” Charlie giggled.
This was all too amusing to him and just reminded him more how much he missed hanging out with his siblings.
“I thought you knew.” Theodora frowned at the twins. “I open all his letters in front of you every time.”
“You sign your name as Charles when you write to her?” Fred chortled.
“You’re the one who came up with the fire-breathing toffees?” George’s mouth fell open.
They knew all about Theodora’s letters to Charles but since their older brother always signed the letters to them as Charlie, they thought Theodora either had an uncle or a pen pal with the same name.
Bill was the big brother, the one they were supposed to fear, the one who was in charge when mum and dad weren’t home, the one who got mad at them. Charlie was the big brother that secretly sneaked cookies into their room even when mum said that they ate too many already. He was the brother that lied for them when he was still a Prefect at school and never deducted any points because of their shenanigans.
The second George connected the dots, remembering when Theodora gave them the brilliant idea about the fire-breathing toffees and she said that Charlie came up with them, he was beyond surprised.
“Honestly,” George turned his head to his twin, “we should’ve figured that one out.”
Fred simply shrugged in reply. It didn’t matter. Their brother came up with one of the best products they’ve made in months and he kept their idea — of opening a joke shop once they finish school — from mum.
Besides, the twins knew how much talking to Charlie meant to Theodora. Her brother was often on missions, where the letters couldn’t reach him so she was lucky if she got a letter or two per month. Corresponding with Charlie on a weekly basis made her miss her brother less and if that made their best friend’s day better they are willing to share their sibling with her.
“Are you still playing?” Bill turned to Theodora the second they sat down at the table.
“Yeah and hopefully next year as well.” Theodora grinned, happy to see Bill expressing interest in her.
“You should have seen her, Charlie!” Fred said with his mouth full.
“She scored half of the goals at the last game!” George added.
“You showed talent from the start and I was happy I decided to put you on the team,” Charlie said proudly.
“Are you going to play Quidditch after school or are you still interested in Curse Breaking?” Bill asked.
Theodora didn’t know in which direction to turn. She was still blushing from the compliment Charlie gave her but she wanted to talk to Bill more than anyone.
“Why are you asking, William?” Fred said in a mocking voice before Theodora could answer.
“Want her all for yourself in Egypt, huh?” George joined in.
The twins started laughing, George almost suffocating on a piece of potato, when Charlie started whistling and winking at his older brother. Theodora tried not to giggle.
This was all too amusing to her and she couldn’t help but wish that their entire summer would be like this. Hopefully, not teasing Bill as much as he was rather uncomfortable – sitting next to her – but them being together and having fun. This was just what she needed after spending 14 days alone with her mother.
“Can’t I even ask her a question without you being gits?” Bill ran a hand over his face, ready to leave the kitchen.
“Sit back down, William, and eat your dinner.” Molly pointed a fork at her eldest and with a sigh, he sat back down.
“Are you kids excited about the Weasley Quidditch Tournament?” Bill has never been so grateful for his father to speak during dinner.
“Yes!” The twins jumped in their seats.
“Charlie will be our Seeker,” Fred said proudly.
“We’re the Beaters.” George followed.
“Well, Theo has to be one of our Chasers. There’s no arguing about that.” Charlie grinned at Theodora.
“Will you allow Ginny to play, mum?” George turned to his mother, making puppy eyes.
“I suppose so.” Molly sighed. “We’ll all be there to watch, so it’s fine.”
Everyone turned to Ginny, who was quietly playing with a piece of meat on her plate. She looked up when she heard her mum say that she could play and her cheeks turned scarlet. She couldn’t believe it! She’ll be allowed to play at the tournament? Along with all of her brothers?
She started shaking in her seat as Charlie, who was sitting next to her, put his arm around her, giggling to see how excited his little sister was.
“So, Ron’s going to be the Keeper then?” Mr. Weasley questioned.
“Of course, who else!” Ron lifted his head proudly.
Most of the times the Weasley siblings were playing Quidditch in their backyard, Ron played as a Keeper and he was getting rather good at it too. Of course, he couldn’t deny that if Theodora was on the opposite team he would feel too intimidated to play.
He attended most friendly matches and every cup game since his friend Harry made the team and he saw how amazing Theodora is with scoring goals. The Gryffindor team wouldn’t have won the cup this year if it wasn’t for her.
“Brilliant, we just need one more Chaser.” Fred clapped his hands together.
“Are you playing?” Theodora turned to Bill.
“Of course!” Bill blurted out.
He wasn’t planning on it but seeing how excited Theodora was, asking him if he will be on their team, he wanted to join at once. He was a bit rusty and hasn’t used a broom in a long time – exploring tombs and pyramids doesn’t exactly need flying experience.
Suddenly, he was very grateful for coming home earlier and not just for the game as he initially planned. He could use some flying lessons from Charlie and a few hours of practice. Hopefully, Theodora won’t be around while he embarrasses himself on the broom.
But on the second hand, why should he care what she thinks of him?
“Are you sure you’ll be able to play?” Charlie whispered to Bill.
“Yeah, why not?” Bill leaned to him.
“Will you be able to play alongside Theo if you already can’t take your eyes off her?”
At those words, Bill turned his head to his brother, frowning. Charlie winked at him and nodded his head at Theodora.
“Oh, bugger off, will you,” Bill muttered, trying not to look at her again, but no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept escaping to her for the rest of the evening.
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MK OC Randomness part 8... I think. Fuck it! We're going with it!
Welcome back to the shit show. Let's go!
also some of these jokes are from lamas with hats
Qiao Fu is my name for the Lin Kuei Grandmaster
Also some of these jokes are based off skits done by Moonkitti on YouTube. Just re-worded a bit
Nozomi: Hey uncle Shinnok! Do your old man voice!
Shinnok, in his normal voice: What old man voice?
Nozomi: Yeah! That one!
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Nozomi: ooh who's this?
Qiao Fu: That's my old wife.
Nozomi: The one who died long ago?
Qiao Fu: The very same
Nozomi: *eyeing the picture* That's too bad. She looks really cute.
Qiao Fu: I'm sorry, do you find my old wife attractive?
Nozomi: Do you not!?
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Nozomi: I wanna see my little boy!
Shang Tsung: *helping Meat walk* Here he comes!
Nozomi: *scooping Meat up and hugging him* I wanna see my little boy!
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"Revenant" Reiki: WHY WOULD YOU THINK ANY OF THIS IS A GOOD IDEA!?
"Revenant" Michiko: Probably because I'm a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.
"Rev" Reiki: Oh.
"Rev" Michiko: I don't understand how you keep forgetting that.
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Shinnok: Shh, do you hear that?
Shinnok: That's the sound of forgiveness.
Melantha: That's the sound of people dying dad!
Shinnok: That is what forgiveness sounds like. Screaming and then silence.
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Shariah: How did you even do this!?
Meat: A dollop of fairy dust!
Shariah: Meat!
Meat: I ripped the tag off a mattress.
Shariah: This isn't funny Meat!
Meat: Who's laughing? Clearly not all the people that just exploded.
Shariah: I'm leaving! I've had enough of this!
Meat: But thank of all the perfectly roasted faces we get to munch on now.
Shariah: What? Why?
Meat: Because we're friends. And friendship is two pals munching on well cooked faces together.
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"The bar was so low it was practically a tripping hazard in Hell! And yet, here you are limbo dancing with the devil!"- Melantha to Hotaru at a family dinner.
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"Oh no. There are consequences to your actions? Who would've thought?" Krow to Raiden and Flamus, still pissed at them for completely destroying a village that housed the remaining nymphs and nymphlims their husband made.
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Nozomi: I'm just here to collect Michiko
Qiao Fu: *tries to stab her*
Nozomi: YOU'RE AN UNFIT FATHER FU! THAT'S NOT EVEN YOUR DAUGHTER! YOU HAVE A HUMAN CHILD! WHO THE FUCK'S DEMON CHILD IS THAT! WHO ARE YOU STEALING CHILDREN FROM!?
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Michiko: You are not my father!
Qiao Fu: Bring proof you are not my daughter!
Meixiu's ghost in the background: Bitch! You literally murdered her birth father!
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Nyx: Get out
Reiko: Aww come on. Can't I check in on my favorite little sister?
Nyx: If you don't leave me my room Reiko, I will stab you. And when I do it won't look pretty.
Reiko: there's a pretty way to stab people? Like with a butterfly knife or something?
Nyx: yup. Handle and all.
Reiko: oh... OH!
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Nemos: Greetings Thunder God!
Raiden: Eh? Nemos what are you doing here?
Nemos: I'm taking advantage of your guilt-ridden personality to get a head start on being a better realm protector while no one is looking.
Raiden: Nope. New timeline, new Raiden. Go- Go play with your sisters.
Nemos: I'll have you know I've lived 15 lives in which I've played with my sisters, and none of them have been consequential!
Raiden: *sighs* I'm trying to take you seriously. Really. But it just feels like an even smaller Shinnok is yelling at me right now.
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Hotaru: *busting into the Sky Temple and picking up Nemos* My beautiful son, I am back from my epic battle of driving out the rebels!
Nemos: Tell me, man who sired me!
Hotaru: We were fighting when suddenly Soldier B produced a substance that burned through their skin!
Nozomi: That sounds like my poison...
Hotaru: Oh no! We'd never poison anyone. Only ambush them in the middle of the night, kill them through physical violence, and intimidate them in other wise orderly court proceedings. Poison is bad.
Nozomi: Have you considered maybe, asking him if he poisoned them?
Hotaru: Oh no, I trust him completely.
Melantha: *holding Discordia and Harmonia* But, what if he did?
Hotaru: *small whimper before glaring and shouting* Solider B! Come here and apologize to my wife for making her think about things immediately!
Solider B: Hi, what?
Hotaru: I said apologize to Melantha!
Solider B: Uh yeah, sorry for poisoning the rebels or something..
Melantha: Hey, has anyone seen Nemos?
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Darrius: It seems one of the soldiers has summoned Melantha to their side.
Hotaru: *spying on the rebels* Gonna go see Melantha. I'm gonna see Melantha at the meeting. Gonna see Melantha. Melantha.
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OB: I made a perfectly good Titan
Fuyuka: You fucked up my daughter is what you did!
Fuyuka: Look at her! She's traumatized!
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Amara: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.
Leila: I think you mean cards.
Amara, pulling knives out of her sleeves: No, I do not.
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Ermac: Bad things keep happening to us, like we have bad luck or something.
Zyta: Ermac, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.
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Zyta: You love me, right, Ermac?
Ermac: Normally, we’d say yes without hesitation, but we feel like this is going somewhere and we don’t like it.
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Kristy: *steps on her glasses by accident*
Kristy: *inhales* If I knew that this would be the fate that befalls me and these damned glasses, I would've just let the fire reach my left eye and burn it out completely!
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Megumi: I turned out perfectly fine!
Ayeka: Megumi, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast
Megumi: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!
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Zyta: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment!
Philomela: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!
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Discordia, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him
Harmonia: You did WHAT–
Nemos: William Snakepeare
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Discordia: Hey Harmonia,
Harmonia: Yes?
Discordia: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?
Harmonia:
Harmonia: Where’s Nemos?
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Discordia: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.
Harmonia: Discordia no.
Nemos: Mistlefoe.
Harmonia: Please stop encouraging her.
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Store Worker: Would a Ms. Philomela please come to the front desk?
Philomela, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?
Store Worker: *points to Amara and Zyta*
Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?
Amara and Zyta, simultaneously: We got lost :(
Philomela: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-
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Erron, driving Ash and Kamden: So how was your day?
Ash: We almost got surprise adopted!
Erron: What?
Kamden: We almost got kidnapped.
Erron: Oh, okay.
Erron: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!
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Nozomi: Welcome, fellow idiots
Kung Lao: Hello, Nozomi
Nozomi: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot
Kung Lao: You underestimate me
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Nozomi: What are your goals?
Kung Lao: To pet all the dogs.
Nozomi: No, fitness goals.
Kung Lao: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.
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Liu Kang: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.
Nozomi: That's why I carry two swords.
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Sareena: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Michiko's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get her out...
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Sareena: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?
Michiko: You mean literally or figuratively?
Sareena: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...
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Sareena: Michiko... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?
Michiko: Your text told me to Satanize the house before you returned.
Sareena:
Sareena: I wrote sanitize, Michiko.
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Sareena: You kill people for money?!
Michiko: I can explain!
Sareena: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!
@deepinthefog @merplderpl @yuvononik @dontunderestimatemypoison @feistyfandomthings @toomanyf4ndoms7 @daddydestrey @tora-lotus @calcium1790 @starneko123 @dinogoofy @bar10du @cyberbloodgoddess
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inky-duchess · 3 years
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21 History Ancedotes for my 21st Birthday
So today I celebrate my 21st birthday and I have decided to gift you all with 21 of my favourite historical Ancedotes. Some are funny, some are sad and some are plain bizarre but I hope the make your day 💜
Mary Maloney, an Irish-born suffragette in England followed Winston Churchill around while he was campaigning for a seat in Parliament, drowning out everything he said with a very large bell and calls for him to apologise for his comments on women's rights and suffrage movements.
Clodius Pulcher was a well born Roman noble during the last day's of the Republic. He gave up his Patrician status to become Tribune of the Plebs (an office in which one had to be a Pleb) by being adopted by a much younger Plebian man who became his "father". Clodius was a bit of a riot, sneaking into religious festivals dressed like a woman to sleep with Caesar's wife, building a shrine to Liberty in the ruins of the Conservative Cicero, vetoed the last speech of one of the Consuls (who basically did nothing all year and was apparently going to roast Caesar) and burned down the Senate House with his funeral pyre (the Plebs who loved him literally tearing up the furniture to build his pyre). He was honestly the best fun.
When laying on her deathbed, Queen Caroline of Ansbach turned to her husband George II of England and told him he should marry again. George refused to ever wed again... But added he would have mistresses. Caroline said , likely with a roll of her eyes, "oh my god that doesn't matter."
Florence was a pretty cool city in the Renaissance until Savanorola came to town. He disliked the loose living artists that crowded the city, with their naked pagan gods and rampant homosexuality. He expelled them all with help of the French hoping to make Florence Holy Again. When the Borgia Pope excommunicated him and sentenced him to death, one man in the crowd was reported to have said. "thank God, niw we can return to sodomy." One Floretine man in the 1490s said Gay Rights.
So this list couldn't be complete without an entry of the only American politician I love, Alexander Hamilton who was just a walking entity of sass. I could go on about his sharp sarcasm or his disaster bi vibes with John Lauren's but my all time favourite Alexander Hamilton ancedote has to be this exchange with Thomas Jefferson "There are approximately 1010300 words in the English language, but I could never string enough words together to properly explain how much I want to hit you with a chair."
Caterina Sforza was an Italian noble woman during the Renaissance. She was apart of the powerful Sforza family, which drew many enemies to her. One fateful day at Forli, Caterina's children were snatched as hostages. The besiegers threatened to kill her children if she did not cede the castle. Caterina refused, lifting her skirts and shouted to the besiegers that she had the means to make more children.
Hannibal Lecter's creator Thomas Harris was happy to end his great character's story with the original trilogy. However his publishers forced him to write an unneeded prequel explaining why Hannibal became Hannibal. Thomas Harris agreed lest he lose the rights to his character so he wrote Hannibal Rising, where Hannibal as a young man hunts down the Nazis who ate his sister with a katana.
Nell Gwyn is my favourite mistress of Charles II, mainly because of her sass. Once while trapped in the middle of a riot where Londoners swamped her carriage thinking she was Charles's Catholic mistress. She popped her head out the carriage and told the people "Pray good people be civil. I am the Protestant whore." She also dosed her rival Moll Davis with laxatives in order to free up some of Charles's time and she once flashed her underwear at the French ambassador after asking him why the Franch King did not pay her to spy on Charles because she was with him every night. A true Queen.
Emperor Ai of the Han Dynasty of China once rose from his bed to go do some ruling when he realised his lover, Dong Xian was sleeping on his sleeve. Rather than disturb his lover, the Emperor cut his sleeve off at the wrist to leave Dong Xian nap. Nothing has ever been more romantic than that. Y'all could never.
Princess Margaret the sister of current Queen Elizabeth II was a socialable Princess and often tasked to visit the up and coming music stars of the day on behalf of the Crown. When meeting the Beatles one evening, she noticed George Harrison was acting a little odd. When she asked what was the matter, he replied "We arent allowed eat until you go." Princess Margaret laughed and promptly left so the Beatles could get some dinner.
During the Siege of Jadotsville, Irish soldiers under the flag of the UN were attacked and besieged by local insurgents allied with the Katanga Regime. The insurgents numbered thousands while the Irish only had 158 soldiers, all who were lightly armed. They radioed to their allies assuring them that "we will hold out until our last bullet is spent. Could use some whiskey though".
Napoleon was famous for writing raunchy letters to his wife, the Empress Josephine while he was away. She used to reply with really mundane letters or not at all. She really just could not be bothered with him.
Josip Broz Tito was so fed up with Joseph Stalin sending assassins to kill him, he wrote to Stalin personally to say "If you don't stop sending assassins to kill me. I will send one to Moscow and I won't have to send another." It didn't work but Big Dick Energy.
Successful Roman soldiers returning from war often got to march along in parades known as Triumphs. During this, it was customary for them to sing bawdy songs about their commander. One surviving one about Caesar goes like this "Romans, lock up your wives. Here comes the bald adulterous whore. We pissed away your gold in Gaul and come to borrow more."
Matilda, Lady of the English was a woman so badass that history cannot handle her. She was the daughter of Henry I who left his throne to her after the death of her brother. She was away in France when her father died and her throne was snatched by her cousin Stephen. They battled back and forth for years with neither side ceding any ground. Matilda was once besieged in a castle during a snow storm, with Stephen's men all around her. Instead of fighting her way out. She simply donned a white cloak and walked out of the castle. Just walked out without any of Stephen's men seeing her.
Pedro of Portugal once fell in love with a beautiful lady in waiting called Inez de Castro. For years, they lived as man and mistress, popping out a few kinds. Pedro's dad really did not like Inez and wanted Pedro to find a legitimate wife so he had her killed. Pedro returned home to find the mother of his children dead. Pedro went a little crazy. He had all his father's assassins killed, ripping out their hearts as they had done to him. When Pedro ascended the throne, he demanded the Pope legitimize his children by Inez. The Pope not wanting to upset the King, said he couldn't because Inez was never crowned Queen. Pedro dug Inez up and crowned her as Queen, having all the nobility swear loyalty to her corpse. The Pope had no choice but to agree to his request.
A famously clever general once saved an entire city with an ingenious stragety to sit outside the city waiting for the attacking army to come. The attack had come to fast for the city to ready themselves for a Siege so, the general had to move quickly. He evacuated the city and took his place waiting for the army to come. The enemy forces stopped and took one look at him and bolted, thinking he meant to lure them in one of his famous traps.
Michaelangelo was really badly treated by the Vatican when he was painting the Sistine Chapel. He constantly fought with the Popes over the design and his work, which he was paid peanuts for. Michaelangelo got his revenge in his work, painting the gates of Hell behind the Papal Throne and an angel flipping the ol' fig (the Renaissance version of the bird) toward the Pope's chair.
Peter the Great was not a perfect guy. He kept serfdom as a practise in his kingdom, he had his son tortured to death and he could be an unpleasant guy. But Peter was a dreamer. He wanted nothing more to build a fleet for Russia and bring Russia beyond its borders. Peter took a gap year from ruling Russia to wander around Europe. When he stopped in England, he was granted Leicester House to chill in while he did his shipwright studies. It was here that Peter found a new passion. The wheelbarrow. Cue Peter and his new found English buddies drinking in Leicester House, punching the artwork and rolling each other around in barrels across the house's Great gardens.
Diogenes is hands down a walking shit post. He was a great thinker in Greece during the reign of Alexander but a rather dry, sarcastic wit. He lived in a pithos/a jar because he shunned all vanities and values of society. He trolled other philosophers, attending their debates to heckle them and eat loud foods through them. When Alexander the Great came to fan boy over him, saying that if he were not Alexander he would like to be Diogenes to which Diogenes just said "yeah me too, now get out of my sunlight."
Cosimo de Medici was the son of a Floretine banker with a great knowledge and love of art. Cosimo wished for Florence to release its potentially and join the Renaissance. He hired Filippo Brunelleschi to finsh the Great Dome of Santa Maria del Fiore which had láin unfinished for over a century, a symbol of a failure of ambition. The builders had lost the knowledge of creating a dome so large so it remained unfinished. Despite much opposition from the other nobility and denouncers of the Renaissance, Cosimo's dream of the completion of the dome was completed, making it the largest brick dome in creation at that time. There is nothing like achieving your dreams and certainly nothing like leaving a lasting reminder that screams 'I was right and you were wrong' to stand for centuries.
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kotofvi · 3 years
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@solaoccasum​ // The End ;; 
        What would it take? To whom should he write his will? For what reason would he need one if he were to raze the world to the ground in fire and brimstone? The cries of a mother that realized the monster she’d raised, the anguish of a father who realized it was him who created the monster, the siblings who tried to care for him and yet could not, and-- the perfect chimera who was everything Enji had wanted to create that stood before him in tatters. Who would do anything he could to protect his precious friends. Ah but what of their father? For what reason would he so courageously try to stand between them for? Why protect the true monstrous creature that had abused them for so many years? Who was the cause of his anguish? 
Perhaps he’s got a much bigger heart than me. Yet-- hearts are the true cause aren’t they? The broken, beaten and burned one that somehow still managed to beat in his charred chest. The fact that his body would continue to move like Stains when faced with Enji just so he could kill him. So why? He’d been incredibly slighted when Shoto was born. All that work to become the hero that Enji wanted, the one who could beat All Might. The one who would raise the Todoroki name to better heights, no longer the second best. (You would never know they were trying to save you from yourself.) He’d lived this long, he would live until he saw Enji in tatters, until he ruined every aspect of his life, until he killed the prized chimera in front of Enji and made him suffer every loss imaginable. 
In his warped sense of thought, he pitied Shoto. He was fully aware of what his youngest sibling suffered, knew the grueling things that transpired in that house-- but he couldn’t bring himself to think of him as anything more than another pawn to get revenge. What would be better than taking away the one thing Enji prized so much? Would Fuyumi cry? Would Natsuo try to come after him? No, neither one of them could even face Enji so why would they even dare to try to come at him themselves? Cowards. Why should he care at all? It’s not like any of them truly tried to save him. (They did, you were just too blinded by the weight of the ambitions placed upon you and the crushing reality that you could not fulfill them for the hero you loved.)  
The ice breaks and he feels his skin warm again, but it’s as though Shoto hadn’t wanted to kill him. Hadn’t wanted to harm him, truly. Why? For what reason would he have to abstain from killing the one who was trying his damnedest to kill everyone around him? Heroes never win in that regard, they’ll always lose everything in the process of saving everything else. He mulled over that moment, but the thought didn’t last long. Shoto should’ve never approached him by himself.  “Little Shoto, don’t ya know I’m going to kill you?” The words have always been sly, wrapped in a coy laughter that spoke to the mental break he’d suffered so long ago. Nothing would stop him until he was good and dead. Laughter that brought chills to bones instead of joy to hearts. Laughter that send someone’s spine to coil in defense and ready them for an attack. 
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His features fall flat and he tilts his head, “Didn’t the whole family get back together after I roasted dear ol’ dad? I heard something about mom getting out of the hospital for the heart warming reunion! Was it fun? Sure it must’ve been a blast talking about how you’d kill me~” Although the words come out chipper, his expression never changes, as though there’s something bitter behind those teeth that showcase things he never truly stopped to consider. “C’mon-- aren’t you going to come at me? Or are you just going to try to encase me in ice again? Didn’t work last time y’know! Wouldn’t work now either~ You’re the perfect little chimera! C’mon! TRY TO KILL ME!!” Chimera, he called him that ‘cause if he didn’t, he would think too much about who he actually was. 
He’d have to consider the fact that Shoto suffered the same as he, he’d have to willingly see the similarities, the pain and anguish, the reality that he would block off in order to do what he thought needed to be done. (You can’t afford to see him as human because if you did, you’d see him as yourself in a way, wouldn’t you?) A scoff, frustration boiling up as he raked his fingers through his hair and smirked. “Don’t have the gall? That’s fine, I wouldn’t kill you unless I had your corpse dangling over Endeavor anyways. Which, if I recall correctly, he’s still trying to fix the public’s view! So that won’t be for a little while until I can get him outside. Go back, not like there’s anything to talk about other than your timely fucking death ticking closely by.” It had to be perfect, his revenge had to be done in the most painful manner possible. He had to make sure he killed Shoto in front of Enji so the man would be crushed by the fact that he couldn’t save his perfect little chimera-- and then? When he’s at his lowest? Then and only then would Dabi rip his putrid lungs from his chest with his own hands.
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Vanilla, Jasmine and Petrichor
Stiles and Derek have been friends for years, but Derek’s noticed that Stiles smells really nice lately.
 (AU where your soul mate smells like your favourite scent)
 Commission for @kirjastorotta​
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  Stiles sat upside down on the couch, his lanky legs hanging over the back of the sofa and his head nearly touching the floor. A bowl of popcorn was balanced on his stomach, but his eyes were focused on the TV screen. Every now and then, he’d reach into the bowl, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn and tossing them into his mouth.
Derek sat beside him, sitting on the floor in front of the couch and leaning back against the cushions.
That’s how they spent their Sundays, it’s how they’d always spend their Sundays since they were kids.
Sheriff Stilinski almost always got on to work on Sundays and Talia had offered to have Stiles come over and spend time with the kids so that he wasn’t alone. Talia told him the door was always open—if the Sheriff was working after school, Stiles could come over and study with Derek and Laura; if John was working nightshifts, Stiles would have dinner with the Hales and his dad would pick him up later, and on the nights he was rostered the full shift, Stiles would sleep over.
As the boys grew up, they became close friends. Aside from Laura, Stiles was Derek’s only friend, and he liked it that way.
Derek leant further back against the couch, reaching up for a handful of popcorn.
He froze.
A sweet scent reached his nose; a mix of vanilla, jasmine and petrichor. The smell filled his lungs, filling him with an overwhelming calmness.
Stiles shifted on the couch, moving the bowl over to Derek’s outstretched hand.
Derek shook himself from his thoughts, reaching into the bowl and taking a handful of popcorn.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
“You okay?” Stiles asked, a glint of worry in his dark eyes.
“I’m fine,” Derek replied, turning back to the movie and eating the popcorn.
Stiles watched him for a moment longer before setting the popcorn back on his stomach and turning his attention back to the movie.
Derek drew in a measured breath, the smell filling his lungs and igniting his senses again as he sat back against the cushions of the couch. He glanced at Stiles in his peripheral vision. He turned to look at Stiles again, studying him with a confused look.
Stiles caught him staring, turning to look at him. “What?”
“Are you using a new soap of something?” Derek asked.
“No,” Stiles replied, uncertainty adding an upward infliction on his voice that made it sound more like a question than an answer. “Why? Do I smell bad?”
“No,” Derek answered, scared he may have offended Stiles. “It’s not that, it’s… Never mind.”
He turned his attention back to the TV.
Stiles’ brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but he let the conversation slip away. He grabbed another handful of popcorn and turned back to the movie.
They settled into silence, the tension still hanging in the air as the conversation slipped away.
After the movie, Stiles glanced at the time. He let out a dejected sigh.
“It’s getting late, I should head home,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Derek replied, offering Stiles a kind smile.
Stiles smiled back.
“Bye,” he shouted upstairs where Laura and Cora were in their rooms.
“Bye,” Cora replied without coming out of her room.
Laura opened her bedroom door, shooting a disapproving look at her sister’s closed bedroom door before leaning over the banister. “You got everything?”
“Yep,” Stiles replied.
“Okay, drive safe,” Laura farewelled. “And let us know when you get home.”
“Will do,” Stiles promised as Derek walked him to the door.
The crisp autumn breeze rolled past, bringing with it the sweet smell of the pine trees and evergreens that surrounded the Hale house. The air was cool and refreshing, but it still held onto summer’s warmth.
“See you tomorrow,” Stiles said as he stepped off the porch and onto the blanket of fallen golden leaves that covered the front yard.
“See you tomorrow,” Derek repeated back to him.
He lingered on the front porch, saying goodbye and watching as Stiles got in his old blue Jeep and drove off.
Derek made his way inside just as Laura came downstairs.
“What?” Laura asked, craning her neck as she looked at Derek’s expression.
“Did Stiles seem… different to you today?” Derek asked.
“No,” Laura relied, slightly confused. She stepped down into the lobby, meeting her brother’s gaze. “What do you mean ‘different’?”
“He… Never mind,” Derek dismissed, making his way into the kitchen.
“Der,” Laura said softly. “If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”
She had a point.
Derek let out a measured breath.
“Did he smell different to you?” Derek asked.
“No,” Laura replied. “He smelled the same as usual. Then again, I don’t make a habit of smelling people.”
She slid onto the stool by the bar.
“Why? What did he smell like?” Laura asked, leaning forward on the bench.
“Like vanilla, jasmine and the smell of earth after it rains,” Derek said, trying to hide the way his voice softened.
Laura straightened in her seat, her eyes widening for a moment. “Wait…”
“What?”
“Do you…. Do you like Stiles?”
“Of course I like Stiles, he’s my friend.”
“No, Derek,” Laura said softly. “Do you like Stiles?”
“What are you talking about?” Derek asked, confused.
“Do you remember what mum told us about soul mates?” she asked. She didn’t wait for him to answer before continuing, “When you meet your soul mate they smell like the things you love the most; your favourite scent.”
Derek thought it over, a wave of realisation washing over him. He felt his face burn bright red.
“But I’ve known Stiles almost my whole life,” Derek said. “Why now?”
Laura shrugged.
“Maybe you’ve come of age,” she suggested. “Maybe you’re starting to see him differently. Maybe you’re just realising now that there’s a spark between the two of you.”
“What do I do?” Derek asked.
“Tell him,” Laura replied.
“You can’t tell mum or dad about this,” Derek said, looking at his sister pleadingly.
Laura looked as if she were about to ask why, but instead her expression softened and she said, “My lips are sealed.”
Derek dropped his gaze to the floor. He felt his chest tighten as a spike of anxiety pierced his heart.
Laura was right; he had to tell Stiles.
  Derek spent the night tossing and turning, trying to think of what to say to Stiles.
He was silent as Laura drove them to school the next day and couldn’t focus in first period, he spent most of the class hastily writing down notes before staring into oblivion, his mind filled with thoughts.
Finally the bell rang and the class was dismissed.
Derek rose from his seat and made his way to his locker.
Students streamed into the hallway. The school was abuzz with chatter; students gathered in the halls, talking amongst themselves as they moved between classes.
Derek looked around the halls, his eyes searching the sea of faces, looking for one.
He felt his stomach twist into nauseating knots. When the second bell rang, he jumped, his heart hammering against his ribs.
The crowds in the halls thinned out.
Derek made his way down the hallway towards the blue doors that led outside. He followed the concrete path to the library. He stepped into the building, looking around at the tables, but Stiles wasn’t there. He checked the mezzanine and the rows of shelves but Stiles was nowhere to be seen.
His heart sank into his stomach. He swallowed hard and left the library, making his way along the outside of the school.
He made his across the school grounds, trying to think of where Stiles could be.
He followed the path around the side of the school to the grassy oval. A few people sat in small groups at the old wooden benches, but there was one lone figure sitting on his own.
Derek’s heart leapt as his eyes fell upon Stiles, the sunlight lighting his dark hair and streaking it with gold. His eyes were focused on the textbooks and notebooks that were scattered across the table in front of him.
Derek drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.
I have to tell him.
He made his way over to the bench.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked.
Stiles looked up at him, flashing a friendly smile. “It is now.”
Derek smiled in return, sliding into the seat. He set his books down in front of him but he didn’t open them.
He looked up at Stiles, his heart hammering against his ribs.
I have to tell him.
He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.
“Stiles,” he started slowly.
“Hmm?”
“I need to talk about you about something.”
Stiles set his homework aside, giving Derek his full attention.
Derek drew in a deep breath and forced the words out. “I think we’re mates.”
Stiles’ face relaxed a little. “Yeah, I know.”
“You know?”
Stiles nodded.
“How long have you known?” Derek asked.
“About a month now.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was scared,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think you felt the same way about me and I didn’t want to throw away what we had.”
Derek felt his heart flutter, a soft smile turning up the corners of his lips. He relaxed a little bit.
“What do I smell like to you?” Derek asked, curious.
“Pine trees, roasted marshmallows, leather and…” Stiles’ voice trailed away.
“And what?”
A sweet smile played across his lips as he said, “Apple pie.”
“Apple pie?” Derek repeated.
“Freshly baked homemade apple pie,” Stiles clarified. “Like my mum used to make.”
Derek let out a quiet chuckle.
“Shut up,” Stiles objected, reaching across the table to gently smack Derek’s arm. “Alright then, what do I smell like to you?”
“Vanilla, jasmine, and the smell of the earth after it rains,” Derek told him.
“You sweet romantic,” Stiles teased.
Derek let out another breathless chuckle.
They fell silent for a moment.
“So,” Stiles started slowly.
“So,” Derek echoed.
“What does this mean for us?” Stiles asked.
“I don’t know,” Derek said. “It’s not exactly like I’ve had experience with this before.”
Stiles shifted nervously.
“I really like you, Derek,” he said forwardly. “If you want to just be friends for the time being, then I’m okay with that. But if you want to give this a go, then I’m in. I mean, it’s not like we have to consummate the bond or anything; we can just take our time.”
“You’re right,” Derek said quietly. “I don’t want to rush into this.”
Stiles nodded, understandingly. He dropped his head slightly, trying to hide the disappointment in his face.
“But I also really want to kiss you,” Derek added.
Stiles looked up at him with a stunned expression.
A small smile played with the corners of his lips. He rose from his seat and leant across the table, gently cupping Stiles’ face in his hand as he brought their lips together in a sweet, tender and slightly hesitant kiss.
Stiles melted into the kiss, lifting a hand to the back of Derek’s neck as he leant into the kiss.
It was like something ignited in his soul, like he had found something that had been missing for so long; like puzzle pieces fitting together—it felt right.
Derek drew back slowly, his lips lingering near Stiles’.
“Yeah,” Derek whispered. “There’s no way we can be just friends now.”
Stiles let out a quiet chuckle, craning his neck and bringing their lips back together again.
Derek tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. He drew in a breath, inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla, jasmine and petrichor and letting it flood his senses.
He drew back slowly, smiling as he met Stiles’ gaze.
A few of the kids at the other tables began to holler and clap.
Derek’s face turned bright red as he sat back down in his seat, opening up his text books and trying to hide his blushing face.
Stiles let out a quiet laugh.
Derek glanced up.
Stiles smiled sweetly at him, the sunlight lighting his dark citrine eyes and turning them to gold. He slid his foot over to Derek’s side, gently nudging Derek’s foot under the table.
Derek smiled back, his racing heartbeat slowing as he met Stiles’ gaze.
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krisdreaming · 3 years
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PART 2 | A PLAN
「 Masterlist 」  |  Next >
Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader
Summary: Somehow, you ended up agreeing to bring your non-existent boyfriend to the family Christmas gathering at your grandparents’. Your chem lab partner and fast friend, Kuroo Tetsurou, agrees to play the part. Your developing feelings for him won’t cause any problems, right?
WC: 1.7k
A/N: As you’ll (maybe) notice there are a few small tidbits I lifted from the original fic, but this is very different from it in a lot of ways! I hope it isn’t seeming too repetitive for those of you who have read the first one. Also, I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I promise it’ll really get going in the next part.
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You plan to meet Kuroo at the coffee shop again a week later. This time, you beat him there, which gives you the perfect opportunity to gather your thoughts. As you wait in line to order, you remind yourself for the hundredth time that this is really happening. Kuroo Tetsurou with his messy hair and his teasing jabs and that stupid smile has agreed to spend three whole days pretending to be your boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?
Luckily, before your mind can concoct an answer, your turn to order comes up. Remembering last week, you order a cup of black coffee in addition to your usual macchiato. It’s a french roast, described as “dark and bold” on the menu. For the guy who reminds you daily that adding anything to coffee is only for the weak, it seems fitting. The comment is always paired with a teasing wink that shoots right to your middle, but that’s definitely not what you need to focus on as you carefully carry the two mugs to a table by the window.
You get situated and you’ve just taken your first sip when Kuroo plops down across from you. “Hey.”
“Hey! Here,” You push the mug in his direction.
“Oh,” He peers into the mug and gives a small, approving nod, “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s for last week,” You say with a wave of your hand, watching as he lifts it to his lips and takes the first sip. When he sets it back down, he holds the mug in front of himself with both hands.
“You were right,” He says suddenly, “This coffee shop is better than the one on campus.”
“Oh really?” You grin smugly.
“Don’t look too proud of yourself,” He laughs, lifting his mug and taking another sip, “You’re the one who has to hire a fake boyfriend.”
“I didn’t hire you,” You snap back quickly, “And it was your idea, if you’ll recall.” You sigh, propping your chin on your hand. Judging by the expression on his face, he’s already enjoying this far too much.
“Details, details,” He waves his hand. “Doesn’t matter. I am curious, though. Why exactly did you tell your family you have a boyfriend when you don’t?” The question comes from a place of genuine curiosity, but you still feel your cheeks begin to burn. You glance down into your own mug so you don’t have to look him in the eye.
“It just gets old, you know?” You mumble to your coffee. “Having everyone ask about it at every family gathering. It seemed so easy to just make up a tiny story. It wasn’t supposed to get this big,” You laugh weakly. “I know it was stupid to lie. I guess I just didn’t want them to be disappointed in me.”
“I get that,” He says softly. “But hey, what do you need me to do?”
You shrug. You haven’t thought about that end of things as much as you probably should have. “Just... be my boyfriend. Charm their socks off. I know you’ve got it in you.” You chuckle. “It’ll be nice to have someone there,” You add after a beat.
“Yeah?” He says, leaning in a little closer. You’re a bit surprised by how much he genuinely seems to care. Half of you had expected him to treat this whole thing like it’s a big, elaborate joke.
“A lot of my cousins have significant others already. Maybe that’s why I felt like I had to make one up. Sometimes I just feel like the odd one out. Don’t get me wrong, I love them,” You add quickly, “But it’s just…”
“I get it,” He saves you from your floundering. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there. And as an honorary grandson, tell your grandma she can feed me as much as she likes.”
You stifle your laughter behind your fingers. “You think it’s a joke, but she might just take that as a personal challenge,” You shake your head, already feeling a little bit lighter. “Anyway, we need details, don’t we? About our ‘relationship’?” You lift your hands to make exaggerated air quotes.
“Probably a good idea,” He nods, “How awkward would it be if our stories didn’t match?”
“I’d rather not think about it.” You squeeze your fingers tighter around your mug. “So we started dating a few weeks into the school year, I guess?”
“Sure, makes sense,” He props his chin on his fist, his lips curling into a half smile as a teasing tone cuts into his voice, “And was it love at first sight?”
You think back to that first day of class. You’d been running late because you were having trouble finding the room. You’d slid into one of the few open seats left, next to that ridiculous head of hair, and you’d glanced at him in a silent apology as he flashed you a quick smile. Love? Probably not, but you can’t forget the slight leap you’d felt in your middle and chalked up to nerves.
“Why not?” You say lightly instead, adopting his teasing tone. “And for our first date… we saw a movie, then came here for coffee after. That’s normal, right?”
“Sounds like it to me,” He shrugs. “And you can call me Tetsurou. I don’t mind. Or even Tetsu.”
You think about it for a moment, mentally testing the words on your tongue. His full name seems strange enough, never mind shortening it to a nickname. “Tetsurou,” You clear your throat, “Tetsurou is fine. Thanks. And you can call me Y/N.”
“Perfect. Y/N.” He says it experimentally, a strange small smile on his face. Something in the air between you feels just a little heavier, but you push forward before you can think about it too much.
“And I should warn you,” You run your fingertip absently around the edge of your mug, “My grandma is going to show you every single photo she’s ever taken of me. Last year, it took her almost an hour to get through them with my cousin’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, perfect, I was running out of things to make fun of you about,” He just barely dodges your hand as you reach across the table to swat him.
“And my family loves all kinds of games, so we’ll probably end up playing a lot of different ones,” You continue, choosing to ignore the playful jab. “So I hope that’s not too boring for you.”
“Are you kidding? Boring is sitting at home with my dad and eating the dinner he ordered from the store. Honestly? I’m looking forward to this. Christmas with your family sounds kind of like paradise.” He looks into his mug for a few moments before lifting it to his lips and draining the last swallows. “If you want the truth, I think you’re pretty lucky.” He finishes softly.
Your breath catches in your throat for a few moments. You forget, sometimes, that not everyone has a close, crazy, embarrassing family like yours. You open your mouth, but before you can come up with a response, his expressions shifts back to his easy smile as though he hadn’t said a word.
“We’re going to have a great time. I won’t let you down,” He lifts his hand, pinkie extended, and you don’t catch on right away. “Promise,” He prompts, sticking his hand out a little further. After a moment of hesitation, you reach out and link your pinkie with his. He grins.
“Thanks. Hopefully I don’t let me down,” You say with a chuckle, pulling away and lifting your mug to swallow the lukewarm dregs in the bottom. “I should be getting back,” You say as you set the mug back down, “I have a history exam before break starts, and I really need to study for it.”
“I should get back too, I have an assignment due tomorrow that I haven’t started yet,” He admits sheepishly.
“Tsk, tsk,”  You tease as you push back your chair and stand, knowing full well that you’re the last person who can scold him for procrastinating. Judging by his incredulous expression, he’s fully aware of that fact. Side by side, the two of you step out into the early winter darkness.
“Really though, thanks for helping me out,” You say as you start making your way down the sidewalk, your words puffing steam into the air, “I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” He knocks his arm against yours. “To be honest, after all your talk about your grandma’s cooking, I might have tagged along even if I didn’t have to pretend to be your boyfriend,” He laughs.
“You certainly won’t go hungry,” You agree, “She’ll make sure of that. Just don’t blame me if it affects your volleyball physique.”
“Don’t worry, I’m naturally slender,” He pats his middle, “I’ve got the quickest metabolism you’ve ever seen.”
You shake your head with a chuckle. “If you say so.”
The remainder of the walk back to campus is relatively silent, the two of you walking with your hands shoved down in your pockets against the cold. Occasionally, his arm brushes against yours. It’s nice in a way, just being next to him like this. You don’t feel any pressure to fill the silence with mindless chattering, and he obviously doesn’t either. You’re content to just walk together through the chilly night.
Winter break starts in less than a week, and you and Kuroo will be leaving for your grandparents’. In an odd way, you’re looking forward to this. Of course you always enjoy spending the holiday with your family, but knowing that Kuroo will be there too has you anticipating it just a little more than usual.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that it takes a few moments to realize you’ve come to a stop in front of your dorm building. “Alright, guess I’ll see you in class Tuesday,” Kuroo says, lifting his hand in a wave.
“See you then,” You wave back, watching his retreating back for a few moments before turning to go inside. You close your hand into a light fist at your side, remembering the feel of his pinkie linked with yours. It isn’t until you’re back in your dorm that you realize that, despite the long walk in the chilly evening, you don’t feel cold at all.
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