#I’ve got a bad case of the brain scramblies y’all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redhead-batgal · 3 years

Note

Hi 😁 Could I request either (31.} “Good morning gorgeous,” “Fuck off I’m trying to sleep.” 8.} “Why do you have to be so cute?” “Why do you have to be so hot?” 27.} “I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.”) Or ( 21.} “If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.” & 1.} “I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.”) with Dick Grayson?

Type: Two-Shot

Pairing: Fem! and Librarian! Reader x Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Part One: Here

Prompts: ☙1: “I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.” ☙8: “Why do you have to be so cute?” “Why do you have to be so hot?”☙21:“If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.” ☙27: “I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.” ☙31:“Good morning gorgeous,” “Fuck off I’m trying to sleep.”

Content: Cursing, mentions of abuse, implied sickness, a minor curses, depressive thoughts (the negative Nancy’s may suck y’all but they bring in the fluffiest fluff), flashbacks, little bit of angst, FLUFFY so freaking fluffy, heavily reader x Nightwing, good luck 😂

Word Count ([Mama Mia] Here we go again!): 10,108 words

(P.S. I saw these prompts and thought hmm what could I do and the idea for a part two popped in my head. Hope you guys enjoy it!)

(P.P.S So I’ve recently decided that I’m gonna do OC stuff so like two of my OC’s with stories are going to make an appearance. Let me know what you guys think of them. 😉)

(P.P.P.S I’m putting an author’s note at the end so if ya wanna read it it’ll be there. And don’t worry I won’t count the author’s note in the words count.)

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

The unexpected tends to hit you when you don’t expect it, obviously, however sometimes the unexpected hits you literally at the worst times. Things from your past can come back to punch you in the gut, things you had forgotten about can return and bring a host of memories with them, good or bad.

The unexpected can cause revelations to come to you, for you to realize things you should have thought of, things you should have seen before. It can cause you to realize certain feelings and certain people are more important than you ever thought.

The unexpected can be kind, but it can also be ruthless. It can give you new relationships but it can also cause you to remember things better left forgotten. Things like past relationships and mistakes you wish you never made.

The unexpected is... well unexpected.

It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since Dick Grayson asked you out when literally everything went to shit.

It had all started when you began to receive texts from old friends telling you to lay low. They were very vague and it made your stomach shift due to nervousness. There was a number of reasons why they could have texted you, they could have been joking, they could have been referring to anything really.

The longer you thought about it the worse your stomach swirled. So when you got a call telling you to come to a meeting with a detective right after your shift at the police station you felt like you were going to puke. The more time that passed the worse you felt however right before you left you ran into Mira.

“Hi, Y/N.” She said with a bright smile, “Are you excited for your date later today?”

She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you gave her a nervous smile. She hadn’t meant to, but you were even more nervous now then before. Nodding you let out a sigh trying your hardest to push the nerves swirling in your stomach back.

“Yeah, yeah I am...” You paused for a moment noting how her hair was much shorter than before.

She noticed your look of surprise and grinned in almost a wicked kind of way, her hazel eyes glittering.

“I got my hair cut and now I feel like a woodland pixie!”

You laughed and Mira raised a hand to the end of her hair fiddling with it before shifting slightly as if something was bothering her. And it was then that it occurred to you, you hadn’t asked her how things with Jason were going.

“So,” You began, feeling a mischievous smile working its way onto your face, “how are things going with Jason?”

Mira’s let go of her hair and shrugged a look of almost disinterest on her face. She leaned against the wall before looking over her shoulder and sighing.

“Well for one, after hanging out with him I’m like ninety percent sure we’re just better as friends.”

You nodded in understanding, it was common for that to happen and it pained you to see how many times people had told you or Mira to just go for the relationship just because it would give you experience.

“I get that-” Before you could finish however she continued.

“And there’s this girl...”

Girl, there’s a girl? You couldn’t believe it! Not because Mira didn’t seem like the type but because she didn’t really get out enough to meet people.

“Ooo really? Where did you meet?”

A blush appeared on Mira’s face and she straightened out before the blush darkened and she averted your gaze.

“She’s new to my apartment complex.”

You smiled widely trying not to giggle in excitement. Mira had been rambling to you for months about wanting a relationship even if it was just a fling, she wanted love and was angry at the gods she believed in for not sending any her way.

“Ooo, very cool. I hope things work out better than with Jason.”

Mira’s blush dimmed slightly and she got a frustrated look on her face before she pushed away from the wall and the two of you began to walk again. Tucking her much shorter hair behind her ear she bit her lip before giving you a look.

“I think that it wouldn’t have matter if we were just better as friends or if Rosemary was in the picture-”

You couldn’t help yourself, “Rosemary? Is that her name?”

Mira’s blush returned to her face making it red as she waved a hand at you almost as if to stop you from asking questions about her possible crush. You moved out of the way of her hands and you realized you hadn’t been thinking about your nerves. And the second you thought of them they came crashing back down on you.

“I’ll tell you everything later I promise!” Mira remarks with a sigh, “Anyways, I’m pretty sure Jason has a thing for someone else.”

You froze for a moment blinking a few times in surprise, looking at Mira you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Really? I could have sworn he liked you.”

She shrugs before crossing her arms, tilting her head she gives you a look before smiling slightly.

“I’m a psychology major at Gotham U Y/N. I noticed somethings and I don’t know I’m pretty sure he likes someone else... and in case you were worried it isn’t you.”

You blinked a few times processing her words, Jason like you? Have a thing for you? Of course that couldn’t be true. Why would Mira think that you might think Jason might like you? He was like your brother!

Mira laughed and you realized all your emotions were crossing your face in that moment. Blinking again you furrowed your brow in confusion. Shaking your head you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of Jason liking someone else.

“I just thought he liked you.”

“He likes the parts of me that remind him of this other girl. I mean like... we sorta talked about it, so it’s more as I know he likes someone else.”

You gave her an exasperated look and Mira laughed nervously before taking a step back. She waved her hands smiling somewhat before saying,

“Listen I don’t know who, and he didn’t outright say it, but he might as well have. He said there’s this one girl he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over. Something about them being childhood friends and thinking she was dead.”

Shaking your head you sighed, you hadn’t heard anything about this then again you and Jason both agreed to not talk about your pasts. Even thinking of it now makes you feel sick. Swallowing you pushed away the memories as Mira gave you a concerned look.

“You okay Y/N? You got a little pale just now...”

Mira trailed off and you nodded brushing off her concern. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you noted the time and how you were supposed to be meeting the detective soon. Shoving it back into your pocket you hurried to say goodbye to Mira, you really didn’t want to be late to this meeting.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’ve just got a meeting with some cop soon-”

“Do you think it’s about Daniel?”

You flinched at the sound of his name. Closing your eyes you took in a breath. You could think about him now... well briefly think about him, without feeling scared or panicking. However now that Mira said it, it made a whole lot more sense. All your friends telling you to lay low and the meeting with the detective.

The room seemed to spin a bit and you felt hands on your arms.

“Woah, woah Y/N. It could just be Dick wanting to meet with you about your date, you said he doesn’t have your number right?” Mira remarked, scrambling to get you back to your senses.

You pressed a hand to your head and nodded even though you felt like you were going to puke. Mira began guiding you towards the door with a very concerned look on her face.

“How about I drive you there? I don’t like the idea of you being alone right now.”

You must have nodded because the next thing you knew you were in the passenger seat of Mira’s car as the world seemed to go in slow motion. Things passed by your eyes but for some reason the only thing your brain could focus on was the fact that Daniel was more than likely back.

Your throat felt tight and you tried to breathe but it got harder the longer you tried. Biting your lip, you forced air through your lungs. There was a faint sound in the background almost like a humming as you heard Daniel’s voice yelling at you. Dozens of phrases all at once, insults, accusations, anger in general. You felt your heart beat pick up when suddenly your lip felt warm and a sharp pain went through it.

Blinking back into reality you realized that Mira had been talking to you and that you were pulling up to the station. The car stopped and Mira turned towards you, her eyes going wide automatically.

“Y/n you’re bleeding. Did you bust your lip or something?”

Raising a hand to your face you pressed a finger to your mouth only to pull it away and find red. For a moment you weren’t in the passenger seat of Mira’s car but on the floor of that apartment. With him looming over you. Your breath caught and Mira was shaking you back into reality.

“Y/n? Y/n are you okay?”

You nodded somewhat slowly before opening the door. Looking up you shot Mira a weak smile as worries about all the trouble you were causing her hit you like a train.

“Yeah, sorry I’m fine. Thanks for taking me here... I’ll get a ride back to the library... you should go home.”

“Y/n-” Mira began when you cut her off by climbing out of the car.

“I’ll be okay Mira. I promise.”

Mira sighed and you turned back towards her. She nodded and you closed the door waving goodbye as she drove off. Turning back to the station you let out a sigh and straightened your posture before walking in.

Inside a woman at a desk directed you to a Detective Brooklyn’s desk. Something about that name tickled the back of your mind but you pushed it back and walked towards where she directed before stopping in front of a woman’s desk. She looked to be a year or two younger than you and tired. She had a phone in her hands and you could faintly hear a little girl’s voice on the other end.

“No Flori you cannot give Ace frosting. I don’t care if he really wants it... What do you mean Ria’s climbing on top of the cabinets? Flori I swear if you don’t- ... Tim, if you don’t get Alfred in there soon I’m going to- Hi Steph, yes it is so good to talk to you but can you please.... ugh. Duke hi... oh Alfred is handling everything? That’s fantastic. Could you please tell him thank you for me? Awesome!” Her dark red-brown hair was pulled into a tight bun and she looked up to you, her deep brown eyes lined with exhaustion.

However upon seeing you her eyes flickered for a moment before she held up a finger. Motioning for you to sit down. She nodded her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to say something to the other person on the line.

“Yeah, yeah I know Ria. Frosting tastes really good. I hav- Hello Damian. I would love to come over and play with Titus, Ace, Ria, Flori and you but I’m at work right now- sorry your right I didn’t mean play, I meant I was going to help you guys exercise Titus and Ace... no we are not keeping William Snakespeare Ria, I don’t care that you named him- I have to go okay? I will handle this later. Yes I mean later, I have work to do- Hi. Yeah I’m still at the station. No, I’m meeting with her right now. Yes please. Thank you so much Babs. You are a lifesaver! Bye.”

Placing the phone on the receiver she sighed before looking at you. She smiled slightly almost weakly before she pulled a file off of her desk and opened it.

“Hello Miss L/N. I’m Edelynne Brooklyn. Most people around here and in general call me Eddie.”

You blinked twice as an image of the past hit you hard.

You and your friend Elysa were sitting on the chairs at the station. You didn’t want to be there, your stomach churred at the thought, but Elysa had insisted saying how your relationship with Daniel had gotten too far. That he had taken it too far. You couldn’t fully see out of the black eye, but you knew it was better than not seeing at all and really it was your fault, if you had just made the food he wanted it never would have happened.

“Hi, I’m Officer Brooklyn.”

You looked up and saw a girl no more than nineteen with hair just below her ears, she had a fresh scar on her neck and something in her eyes reminded you of yourself.

You had blinked and she had given you a look before offering you a smile of sorts. Gesturing with her head she began walking towards the dozens of desks.

“This way please.”

You stood up, not fully understanding why and Elysa gave you a look of surprise but followed after you and Officer Brooklyn. She stopped in front of a desk and gestured to a seat. You sat down not even looking at who was in front of you.

“Eddie what is this about-”

Something about that voice was familiar to you and you looked up, however instead of seeing someone familiar you saw a dark haired man with bright blue eyes in a uniform.

The man in front of you blinked twice before holding out his hand and you flinched almost instinctively. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Eddie flinch as well.

“I’m Detective Richard Grayson, it’s nice to meet you...?”

“I’m Elysa Aidenson. And I’m here because my friend needs help.” Elysa said instantly.

You shook your head in protest however Elysa ignored you. Detective Grayson did not, he instead looked at you and you felt like shrinking down in your chair. If Daniel knew you were here he’d kill you. Not only were you going to talk to the police, forced or not, about personal matters, you were without him in front of another man.

“Why do you need help?”

“I don’t-” You began when Elysa scoffed.

You sighed in almost frustration before remarking, “I don’t need help. He just got a little mad! He said it won’t happen again besides it’s more my fault then anything....”

Detective Grayson gave you a look almost as if what you said pained him and Officer Brooklyn had a strange look on her face almost as if what she was hearing was familiar. Detective Grayson leaned forward to say something but Officer Brooklyn stopped him before he could.

“What’s your name?” She asked, her voice soft.

You looked at her and you didn’t see pity in her eyes but understanding, a recognition of some sort. You swallowed and looked at her for a moment more before turning back to Detective Grayson.

“I’m Y/N. Y/n L/N.”

You blinked back into reality and found Detective Brooklyn writing something down in the file. Shaking your head slightly you blinked again.

“You know,” Detective Brooklyn began not looking up from the file, “every time I see you come in here, you’re injured.”

She looked up slowly from the file, a strange look on her face, almost worried.

“Though last time it was much worse.”

You nodded somewhat slowly before clearing your throat. You had to figure out why you were here before the memories overcame you and you had a panic attack.

“Why am I here again Detective?”

Detective Brooklyn tilted her head before raising an eyebrow at you, “You already know Y/n. He’s back. And he wants you.”

The air caught in your throat and you choked out a breath staring at her in disbelief.

“You didn’t even try to sugar coat it!” Was the only thing you could find yourself saying.

Detective Brooklyn sighed, setting the file down before she shrugged, “Seemed to me that it wouldn’t help since you had already guessed. It’s why your lip is busted. You were biting your lip, I assume, and bit too hard... I would know. It’s happened to me before.”

Something about her words seemed to have a double meaning and you stared at her nose, it was a bit longer and a tad bigger then you remembered but it had been almost three years.

“I just wanted to let you know because I’m going to be assigning you a protection detail starting tomorrow. Daniel Natalonie is one of the biggest players in the Gotham Underworld these days. Well him and Caleb Brooklyn.”

She said the words as if she hadn’t just revealed something astronomical about herself. And that Daniel.. well he had gotten what he always wanted, power. You swallowed and Detective Brooklyn sighed.

“Yes, Caleb Brooklyn is my father. No, I have no contact with him. However I do know that Daniel has a price on your head... well sort of. He is willing to pay big bucks to anyone that brings him you.”

You flinched and then watched her clench her fist regret flashing in her eyes before she shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

“You have a choice here Y/N. You can have the protection detail... or well I have a few off the record friends who would be happy to help.”

You couldn’t help but think of Nightwing. In his black and blue suit smiling at you and your stomach flipped. Your memories were mixing, you knew because instead of seeing him sitting on your couch, he was on the fire escape smiling that same smile at you.

“But if you want you can just have the normal protection detail.”

You shifted in your seat and avoided her gaze. For a moment your eyes darted to her neck and the scar was still there. Isn’t wasn’t as fresh as it was almost three years ago, but it was still there.

“I-”You began not fully sure of what you wanted to say, “I’ll do whatever works easiest for you.”

Detective Brooklyn sighed slightly, shooting you a strange kind of smile. She then hesitated before holding up a hand and picking up the phone. She quickly punched in a number and held the receiver to her face.

“Hi, It’s Eddie. Yeah I was wondering what the word about the protective detail for Y/N L/N was? ... They what? Okay, No, no I can handle it. Yeah. Thanks bye.”

Rubbing her forehead she hung up the phone and gave you an apologetic look. Leaning back in her chair she opened her mouth to speak only to close it. Sighing once again she finally spoke.

“For some reason they decided you don’t need a protective detail. Some jackass who is probably in Natalonie’s pocket planted the idea in some upper management's heads that you’ll be fine on your own and it’s not our job to keep you safe from ‘non-existent ’ threats.”

You sank into your chair slightly giving her a nervous look when the phone suddenly rang. Detective Brooklyn picked it up running a hand across her forehead, as stray pieces of hair slipped out.

“Eddie Brooklyn- oh hi Bruce.... they WHAT?” Standing up suddenly she got an alarmed look on her face before her voice cracked as she said, “I am so sorry about that! Oh so the kitchen didn’t catch fire? Alfred caught it? Oh thank goodness... so no one’s hurt? They’re on their way right now? Alright well thank you so much for allowing them to spend the day there. It was a big help.”

She nodded, slowly sinking back into her chair and it was then that you realized Detective Brooklyn was talking about the Wayne family. Alfred, Bruce, Tim? Definitely the Wayne’s what confused you was who Ria and Flori were. Judging by the way she was acting you assumed it was Detective Brooklyn’s children. Though if they were playing with Damian they would have to be a bit older and unless she had kids at like fourteen that was highly unlikely.

“Of course, yes... he’s on his way? Okay. Thank you again.”

Hanging up the phone Detective Brooklyn stood up, yanking her coat on. You followed her to your feet and she grabbed a bag along with keys before moving away from her desk.

“My shift is just about over, so I’m about to head out. Come with me would you? I have a few more questions I want to ask.”

You followed Detective Brooklyn outside and just off to the side of the station was what looked like a fairly nice car. Two girls no more than eleven dashed from it towards you and Detective Brooklyn.

“EDDIE!” The girl with bright red hair squealed as she ran towards her.

Instead of smiling and moving towards the girl with the same excitement Detective Brooklyn gave the girl a reprimanding look. But it didn’t stop her from slamming into Detective Brooklyn, wrapping her into a hug.

“Ria!”

A girl with a more sandy red-blonde hair who looked almost exactly like the redhead stopped right next to Detective Brooklyn and the first girl.

Twins.

The word was at the front of your mind before you could stop it. The two girls looked at you; the redhead had bright green eyes and a wide smile. She pulled away from Detective Brooklyn and held out her hand.

“I’m Ria!”

“Ria!” The other one remarked pulling on her arm, her dark blue eyes clouded.

The redhead- Ria, looked to the other and smiled brighter. She grabbed onto her sister’s arm and pulled her forwards.

“Come on Flori! We need to be more friendly. This is the librarian I was telling you about.”

You blinked twice before realizing the little girl you have given a book to right before panicking and cursing at Dick the other day was none other than the girl in front of you.

The other girl, Flori, gave Ria a look of surprise and asked, “When did you have time to go to the library?”

“When you were playing with Steph. Cass told me where to go.”

Flori gave Ria a look of shock and Detective Brooklyn snorted. You took a step back for a moment. Something about the three of them made you want to smile, but it also made you want to get as far away as you possibly could. If Daniel was after you, he’d go through anyone... anyone to get to you. And you couldn’t put these girls in harm’s way.

Turning to leave you noted the dark sky and remembered that you had no way to get home. Closing your eyes you let out a sigh however before you could even take another step you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground. Opening your eyes you saw Nightwing standing in front of you.

However instead of his usual smile you found a concerned look on his face. He took a step forward looking at you almost as if he was checking you over for injuries.

“Hey Nightwing,” Detective Brooklyn remarked, capturing his attention.

The concern looked slipped away from his face and he quickly replaced it with a smile.

“Detective... girls.”

Ria laughed in what you could only call a maniacal way and Flori snorted. Smiling slightly you looked over to them and saw Ria looking between you and Nightwing a strange look on her face. Flori had a gleam in her eye and she and Ria shared a look before grinning in an evil kind of way. However before you could even think to question it Nightwing was asking you a question.

“Huh?” You asked since you didn’t hear him.

“Where do you think you are going?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow.

You give him a confused look. Fiddling with your fingers you looked at him and he looked you in the eyes. Your cheeks flushed and you took a step back as the feelings wrapped around your throat.

“A-hot-ment- I mena- mean. I mean, I’m going back to my apartment why?”

Nightwing raised an eyebrow at your comment before remarking, “Alone?”

You nodded and he sighed. Shaking his head he placed his hands on his hips and gave you an almost reprimanding look and you gave him a confused one.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t really go home any other way.” You replied feeling even more confused than before.

“With your psycho ex on the loose?”

You froze for a moment and you could swear you heard his footsteps. Swallowing you pushed the thought away and took a step back from Nightwing. A slightly surprised expression crossed his face and then he winced, dropping his arms.

Shifting slightly you shrugged not wanting to meet his gaze. Rubbing on your arm you sighed trying your hardest to pick up the courage to look him in the eyes. However the thoughts hit you so hard you had to choke back tears.

Now look what you’ve done, you’ve upset him. Maybe it’s a good thing that Daniel’s back, maybe it’s a good thing he wants you again. After all you deserved everything that happened to you

You sunk into yourself a bit, parts of you tried to tell yourself that the thoughts were wrong but you didn’t truly believe it. Why did you always have to go and fuck everything up.

“I’ll be okay.” You finally forced out.

Part of you wanted to assure Nightwing that it wouldn’t matter if you ended up dead because it would be for the best. However the thoughts weren’t through with you yet.

You’re just phishing for sympathy for him to tell you you’re wrong because you know he will

But really you weren’t you just wanted him to stop caring because you weren’t ever going to change. You were terrible. Horrible. Awful really.

“Hey, I know what you’re doing. Don’t do that. Don’t do it, don’t you dare!” Nightwing suddenly said.

Before you could even react he had your face in his hands and was looking you dead in the eye. Cupping your cheeks he leaned in slightly.

“You are amazing Y/N. Completely and totally incredible honestly. You don’t deserve a single damn thing that happened to you. You are one of the funniest, kindest and honest to god prettiest women I ever met. You radiate this kind of light I haven’t seen anyone else radiate. You make my darkest days bright so don’t you dare think you are anything less than spectacular.”

Your cheeks flushed and you gave him a surprised look as the feelings you’d been trying so hard to push back jumped straight into your throat and you had a violent urge to kiss him.

However, you knew better. Mainly because as soon as he saw your bright red cheeks Nightwing let you go, his cheeks flushing slightly. He cleared his throat and you held a hand to your chest as if to catch the heart that was about to beat out of it.

Of course you knew people cared about you but something as blunt as that... something so direct hit you hard. You swallowed again, your heart beating rapidly pushing all your nerves away.

“... If I can’t go home what am I going to do?”

Nightwing looked at you for a moment and you felt flustered. Your feelings were thrumming in your chest and lungs along with the beating of your heart. However instead of saying anything he just looked at you.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and you looked to see a slightly smug looking Detective Brooklyn with the twins clinging to her sides. She raised an eyebrow at Nightwing, who then took a step away from you.

“Y/N can always crash with me if she wants... I mean if she doesn’t wanna have a sleepover with you, Blue.”

You froze for a moment and the thought of Nightwing staying over at your apartment, of you talking to him early into the next morning... of you sleepily confessing your feelings to him. Heat flushed your cheeks again and you shook your head.

“I uh,” You began causing both Nightwing and Detective Brooklyn to look at you, “I’ll stay with Detective Brooklyn tonight.... I mean for all we know Daniel’s waiting at my apartment to ambush me.”

You had stammered slightly but Nightwing nodded and a slight smile appeared on his face. The twins were looking at you, Ria’s green eyes were almost glowing and she blinked once then twice.

“Why are you so pretty miss?” She asked bluntly.

Your blush intensified and you scrambled to answer her as you watched her sister nod in agreement, as if she had the exact same question.

You wanted to reply but only gibberish came out. When the gibberish escaped you, Ria pointed a finger at you, her jaw dropping. Detective Brooklyn leaned forward and pushed Ria’s arm down. However a grin exploded onto Ria’s face and she began jumping up and down.

“The nice and pretty librarian does what I do!”

She squealed with delight and all the worry about embarrassing yourself slipped away from you. Ria turned towards Flori and stuck her tongue out at her before blowing a raspberry.

“I told you pretty people could do that!”

Flori smiled slightly before rolling her eyes, “I’m still the attractive twin.” She remarked.

She then used her finger to pull her nose up and she snorted a few times continuing, “Miss Piggy.”

“Liking food does not make me a pig.”

“Naming your stomach does make you a loser though.” Flori retorted.

Ria gasped in a clear dramatic fashion as she pressed her hand to her chest, “Marshmallow and I are both offended, that was very rude Flori.”

Detective Brooklyn snorted, then tried to cover it up by coughing and looking away as she smiled fondly. Catching you staring at her, her smile widened and she laughed slightly. Then she turned to the girls and sighed.

“Alright ladies, it’s time to head home.”

“But Eddie!” They said in unison.

“If we go home we can have a movie night and eat those cupcakes I’ve been hiding for you guys.”

“CUPCAKES?” Ria squealed as Flori’s jaw dropped.

It was then a hand came down on your shoulder and you flinched slightly. Looking you found Nightwing giving you a concerned look again. You blinked at him almost asking what was wrong.

“You gonna be okay?”

Turning back towards the girls who were now having a poke war, you smiled and nodded.

“I think I’m going to be just fine.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Nightmares of the past, memories so clear you could even taste them, yanked you from your sleep.

Ghost touches raced across your skin and you shuttered, pulling your legs to your chest, you took in a deep breath and tried to calm down. However it was a bit difficult. Your breathing was erratic and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t calm yourself down. However, when you heard the small soft voices you began to come back into reality.

“Do you think a hug will help?”

“It doesn’t help me when I get like that. But it might, I think she’s just scared not... Should we ask Eddie?”

“Maybe Ria. Maybe.”

You took a deep breath in and your breathing slowed down, closing your eyes, you took in another breath. As you let it out you felt someone sit down next to you. Peeking an eye open you saw Flori looking up at you with concern and curiosity mixed on her face.

“Are you okay, miss?”

You nodded slowly, taking another breath in you nodded a bit more firmly and looked at her. Accidentally you met her eyes and her dark blue eyes reminded you of the color of the sky right before night fully took over. She blinked and raised an eyebrow at you slightly confused.

“Are you sure? Do you want a hug?”

Before you knew what you were doing you replied, “I’m fine... but a hug would be nice.”

Flori’s face brightened and she wrapped her small arms around you. You returned her hug and saw over Flori’s shoulder, Ria lurking in the darkness a blanket wrapped around her shoulder. She stepped forwards into the light and blinked. Her face was paler than earlier, she looked empty for a moment before she blinked and a smile was on her face.

It, being around Ria and Flori, reminded you of your childhood. Of your busy household and the noise, the laughter that it always held.

When you heard the sound of angry whispering you blinked and Flori pulled away from you. She looked back to Ria and the two got excited looks on their faces. Suddenly Flori was off the couch and Ria was running down the hall. Flori froze and turned back towards you. She held out her hand and smiled.

“Come on.”

You didn’t exactly know how you felt about a ten year old telling you what to do but you stood up and took her hand. Curiosity was burning through you, what could get the girls this excited?

You turned the corner and Ria was leaning around another corner smiling brightly. She saw the two of you and motioned for you to come towards her. You did and stopped before peering around the corner as well.

What you saw was... well incredibly surprising.

The window was open and Detective Brooklyn- Eddie was trying to shove Red Hood out it.

“Aw come on doll.”

“Y/n is here Hood. She knows I’m a cop and that you have a warrant out for your arrest!”

“Commissioner Gordon told me if I turn enough criminals in to him that would go away.”

“He did not! He would never.”

Red Hood shrugged before throwing his hands out in a I guess so motion. Eddie took this opportunity to get him mostly out of the window before he realized what she was doing and grabbed onto the window frame, pulling himself back in and undoing her work. Flori and Ria giggled, catching his attention. He turned towards you, poking his head back into the apartment.

“Girls! Come on out and help me, will ya?”

Flori snorted but moved out from the corner, Ria went to do so but paused first rubbing at her chest slightly before shaking her head and following after her sister.

You watched from around the corner as the girls stopped at Eddie’s side. She gave them a stink eye as she continued to try and push Red Hood out the window.

“You two shouldn’t be up. Especially you Ria.”

Taking the opportunity, due to Eddie being distracted, Red Hood pushed himself back into the apartment. Eddie wobbled and then fell on her butt cursing.

“Hood!” She snapped her face flushing.

Red Hood sighed before climbing back through the window. He looked at the girls and they laughed in a maniacal way. He laughed slightly before sighing again.

“You guys wanna try and convince her to let me in?”

The girls looked at each other then at Eddie and shook their heads. At least they’re loyal, you thought with a smile.

“I have a front door and you have normal clothes. If you had done this the normal way, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” Eddie replied as she stood up.

“What would we be doing if I did it the normal way?”

You had to stop yourself from snorting. Eddie’s face was still flushed from when she hit the floor however you caught her eye roll and the hand gesture she showed him but not the girls.

Putting up his hands in defeat he nodded, “Fine, fine you win. Can I at least have a kiss goodbye?”

Eddie froze for a moment, you saw her tilt her head to the side before she blinked and shook her head.

“No.”

Red Hood crossed his arms and you were sure though you didn’t know him very well that under his helmet he was pouting, “Why not?”

“Because I know you Ja-. I know you Hood and if you can convince me to kiss you, you’re going to think you can convince me to let you in.”

Instead of replying Red Hood was silent which seemed strange. Looking towards him you saw him facing the girls and Ria’s wobbling slightly.

“Hood what’s-”

“You alright Squirt?” Red Hood asked, hopping in through the window and moving towards Ria.

“Ugh,” She muttered, her voice weak, “my chest hurts.”

It was then she dropped towards the ground. However instead of hitting the ground Red Hood caught her and pulled her up slightly.

“Ria!” Both Eddie and Flori exclaimed.

The two of them rushed towards her and Flori grabbed onto Ria’s arm as Eddie looked her over.

“Did you take your medicine Ria?”

The girl shook her head and Eddie glared at her.

“I don’t like them.” Ria mumbled as she leaned against Red Hood.

“I don’t care if you don’t like them, Ria, you need them... Flori would go and-” Eddie began but before she could even finish Flori was up and out of sight.

Before you knew it your found yourself in front of Eddie and Red Hood. You heard Flori’s footsteps racing around the apartment.

“Is-” You began hearing your voice crack, “is she gonna be okay?”

Eddie looked at you and for a moment you saw her gaze jump to Red Hood in a kind of nervous way. However, Red Hood answered your question.

“If she takes her meds, she’ll be fine. But the stubborn little squirt doesn’t like to.”

“They taste like shit.” Ria mumbled.

There was a pause of silence and Eddie glaring at Red Hood. She gave him a I told you so look. And he sighed.

“This is why I don’t like you cursing around them.”

“She cursed the bat brat out the other day. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with me.”

“She did what?”

“Curse the bat brat out. It was amazing. He couldn't even say a reply, he was stunned by Squirt’s colorful and creative wit.”

Ria laughed slightly before wincing and Eddie sighed. She rubbed her face looking even more exhausted than before and Flori came dashing back into the room, carrying a medicine bottle and a water bottle.

Flori passed them to Eddie who gestured to Red Hood to hold Ria up a bit more before looking at you. Flori passed you her head hanging down slightly.

“Would you,” Eddie began after Flori turned around the corner, “watch Flori for me? She always has a hard time when Ria has her fits.”

You nodded without thinking and turned to follow after her. Walking a bit quicker you made it in front of Flori and Ria’s room just as the door shut. You raised a hand and your heart began pumping your chest.

You shouldn’t bother her-

If she freaks out whenever her sister has fits she probably needs someone to talk to, if you don’t talk to her she’ll be alone and afraid

Knocking on the door you waited for a moment before hearing a very quiet, “Come in.”

Opening the door you peeked your head in to see Flori sitting on one of the beds in the room. In one corner was a bed up against the wall with art and posters of musicals and ballets on it. In the other corner was a bed with nothing on the wall. Flori sat on the bed against the wall with the posters and art.

She stared at the other bed, her knees against her chest and her head resting on the tops of her knees. Walking into the room, you closed the door behind you and moved to sit on the bed next to Flori.

“Her room is like this back home too.” She whispered as you sat down.

You pulled your legs onto her bed into a crisscross. Resting one arm by your stomach you set your other arm on top of the resting one’s fist and leaned your head against your free hand.

“What do you mean?” You dared to ask.

Flori sighed and pulled her legs tighter against her chest.

“Ria’s bedroom walls. They’re blank. She has no dreams, no ambitions, nothing. She refuses too... Did you know she loves to dance? Nearly as much as I do. She knows every move I know, her favorite ballet is Giselle because she believes she can relate. But she refuses to tell our parents how much she loves to dance. Did you know Ria has the voice of an angel when she sings? She loves to sing too... she loves to do all the things she shouldn’t.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion as Flori’s voice turned bitter and sharp.

“She is so full of life to be... to be dying.”

You blinked twice and released a breath as you began to understand what was going on.

“Why- is she-” You began struggling on how to word it.

“She’s sick.” Was all Flori said.

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

You let out a sigh, for a moment you saw your mother in a hospital bed smiling at you softly. Fiddling with your hands you began to debate on whether or not to tell her your story.

“My mother... she had breast cancer. It tore her apart, seeing her in the hospital bed... slowly wasting away,” You remarked, sighing softly, “it nearly killed my father. It hurt me even though I was a little too young to fully understand. But... she got better, she recovered. She made it though it, Ria can too-”

“Ria’s sickness isn’t something she can recover from or get over. It isn’t cancer, it isn’t a cold, it isn’t the flu. Her sickness isn’t something you can catch and then get over. It’s been consuming her life since the day we were born! She’s going to die, she knows it too. It’s why she tries so hard to be bright, to be bubbly and nice despite- despite all she’s going through.” Flori snapped tears appearing in her eyes, “Our parents have kept her locked in the house for most of our lives... she has never seen a beach or even snow. Ria has no idea the thrill of tumbling down a hill or what it’s like to ride a bike because- because they never let her. Ria is going to die never having truly lived and it kills me.”

You had no idea what to say to her, or even how to begin to comfort her. Wringing your hands you bit your lip as you looked the girl over. She turned to you, tears in her eyes.

“Why? Why did it just have to be her? Why couldn’t it be me too? She’s so alone in this and- and I don’t know what to do! She has no friends, she has me, our parents and Eddie and that’s it! I have friends, I have so many people but- but it just doesn’t seem right. We are twins, we are supposed to share everything, why couldn’t we share this?”

You blinked twice, Flori really wanted to make sure her sister knew she wasn’t alone but she didn’t seem to realize lamenting over the fact that it was only Ria was the one who was sick.

“How about instead of trying to pin blame on someone for being sick you try to make her feel like her sickness isn’t the only thing about her.” You tried waving your hands, “I mean it’s clear you love her. But it isn’t your fault that she’s sick. It’s not like you wanted her to be born like this. And it seems like your parents are treating her like the only thing she is, is sick. Treat like she’s... well Ria. And I think it will make things easier for both of you.”

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Flori lower her legs away from her chest and she sat up straight. Rubbing her nose she nodded somewhat slowly.

“You’re right.”

You turned towards her and she smiled at you slightly before leaning forwards and hugging you.

“Thank you Miss L/N.”

Pulling apart you gently patted Flori’s head and shot her a soft smile, “How about you get to bed. I bet Ria will be fine in the morning.”

Flori nodded and you got up to leave. However she grabbed onto your arm stopping you in your tracks.

You looked down at her slightly confused.

“Uh, Would you stay?” She asked looking up at you.

You sighed and smiled. Nodding she quickly pulled back the covers on her bed and patted a side of it. You climbed into the bed and Flori smiled at you.

“Thank you,” She whispered with a yawn before closing her eyes, “thank you.”

You looked at her for a moment before nestling into the pillow and closing your eyes with one thought in your head.

It’s nice to be wanted.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

It had been almost two weeks since you crashed at Edelynne Brooklyn’s apartment. Two weeks since Daniel returned to town and put a price on you, two weeks since Nightwing became your personal “bodyguard.”

You would be lying if you were to say you weren’t surprised when you arrived back at your apartment, accompanied by Detective Brooklyn or Eddie. There seemed to be no sign of Daniel or any of his goons. So you settled back into your apartment.

However, Eddie informed you, for your safety it would be better for you to stay at your apartment. Not only due to the fact that she and the vigilante’s could easily surveille it, but due to the fact that Daniel could very easily convince someone to lead you away from the library to grab you.

At first you were a little bummed and it occurred to you that you had missed your date with Dick, however he didn’t try to contact you nor did Jason. Instead of worry about it you were actually having a lot of fun with Nightwing

And while Nightwing was fun to hang around and the longer you spent around him the stronger your feelings got, sometimes he was really fucking annoying.

After a late night working on library business from home you decided to sleep in the next morning, Nightwing it seemed, decided that wasn’t going to happen.

At seven in the morning while you were blissfully asleep you felt something gently tap your shoulder, then your face. Blinking blearily you sat up.

“Good morning Gorgeous.”

Standing over your in his classic black and blue costume was Nightwing. Grumbling, you flopped back onto your bed and pulled your covers over your head.

“Fuck off,” You stated loud enough he could still hear you, “I’m trying to sleep.”

You heard a slight snort, then suddenly your blanket was gone and you were lying on your bed shivering. Sitting up you glared at Nightwing who held your stolen blanket in his gloved hands.

Readying yourself into a crouched position you waited for a moment before jumping towards the blanket. Just as you were about to grab it Nightwing yanked it out of your reach and caught you in his arms.

He laughed at your frustrated expression and as you crossed your arms and pouted. Setting you on the ground he smiled broadly at you and remarked.

“Why do you have to be so cute?”

Without thinking you replied looking him dead in the eyes, “Why do you have to be so hot?”

Nightwing blinked a few times, looking slightly shocked, he lowered your blanket closer to the floor and looked at you almost as if he didn’t believe it.

“What did you say?”

You froze as you realized what you said. Your face flushed and you shifted slightly, breaking his gaze before looking to the floor.

“Nothing, it was nothing.”

Nightwing gave you a skeptical look before he leaned towards you a suggestive smile on his face. Your face turned a brighter shade of red and you realized this was a perfect opportunity to grab the blanket from his hands.

Lunging forwards you yanked the blanket from him. You had just grasped it and began to pull away when Nightwing began to pull back until he didn’t. The blanket went limp in your hands and you fell onto your butt.

Nightwing blinked twice and shook his head. Running his hand through his hair he let out a frustrated grunt before sighing.

“I’ve- I’ve got to go. But I’ll be right back.”

He headed towards the window and you blinked in surprise. Scrambling to your feet you chased after him grabbing onto his arm. He turns back towards you, a clearly torn expression on his face.

“Wait,” You said, giving him a confused look as the thoughts descended upon you.

He’s leaving, he’ll never come back, it’s because you’re a mistake a problem a beast-

“Where are you going?”

Nightwing looked at you and sighed, he then stroked the side of your face with one of his hands. You leaned into his touch and then he pulled away.

“I’ve got to go, the other vigilante’s need my help with something but I’ll be right back.”

You blinked and realized while it had been fun with Nightwing being here and hanging out with him you could finally get out of your apartment. You smiled at him and then he gave you a suspicious look.

“You, “ he began looking at you, “are going to stay here, Okay?”

“But-” You protested for a moment throwing your hands up before he cut you off taking your face into his hands.

“If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.” He said somewhat slowly as he rested his head against yours.

Your cheeks flushed once again and you blinked a few times. Pulling away from you he sighed and slowly pulled his hands away from your cheeks. He probably said goodbye but you were in too much shock to realize it and before you knew he was on your window sill and then gone.

You sighed feeling the temptation to leave however his words echoed in your ears and you shook your head.

“If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you sat down by the window resting your chin in your hand and you waited. And waited. And waited. You waited even when the storm clouds rolled in, even when they split open and rain began to pour down. You waited for hours. It was only when the night was turning day again as the rain continued to pour from the heavens that he returned.

Your window swung open and your stomach swirled, however it was a soaked Nightwing that came through the window and not Daniel or some random thug.

You rushed towards him and quickly wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried about you. I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you. I mean like I don’t really think my feelings matter since your a hero and whatever and people would say so much shit to you if anything started between us- not that it would. But it’s just I care about you a lot.” You rambled as you pressed your face into his chest.

Oh gosh, you couldn’t believe you just blurted all of that out. Maybe he didn’t hear all of it. Maybe some of it was muffled. Maybe, you hoped, maybe.

For a moment the world seemed to stop and everything was right. Then Nightwing had his hands on your shoulders and pulled you away from him. He gave you a slightly angry look and you instantly regretted your little ramble.

“What is this nonsense about other people? I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.”

You blinked once, then twice, then three times before you fully understood what he said.

“I love every damned piece of you ”

“No matter what anyone else says.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you gave him a wide-eyed look. Your pretty sure your jaw had dropped and your stomach swirled as you replayed his words over and over and over again in your head.

“You,” You began your voice almost squeaking, “love me?”

Nightwing smiled and nodded, pressing his head against yours.

“Of course I love you. I’d be an idiot not to.”

You blushed and flushed and tried to stutter out a reply but unfortunately you couldn’t. Your cheeks were heated and you felt your heart racing in your chest.

For some reason the first thing your mind jumped to was Dick Grayson, how you had a crush on him no matter your feelings- your love for Nightwing.

“But-” You began taking a step back from him, “I- I have a crush.”

A smile slowly formed on Nightwing’ s face as you took another step back from him.

“I mean I love- like. LIKE! I like you but, I do have a crush and - and” You rambled shaking your hands very confused.

Nightwing laughed, he actually laughed and you felt your cheeks flushing an even darker color. He took a step towards you and you took a step away from him. He raised his hands almost in defense and remarked,

“About that...”

“About what?” You asked, suddenly feeling suspicious.

“About the whole crush and me thing, I know who your crush is.”

You gave him a confused look and shook your head. there was no way he knew who your crush was, there wasn’t!

“It’s Dick Grayson.”

You looked at him in surprise, your jaw dropping nearly in shock. He laughed slightly at your face before taking a step towards you. This time you didn’t take a step back. He got closer until he was right in front of you.

“And I,” Nightwing began, reaching up for his eye mask, “Am Dick Grayson.”

He took off his eye mask and looked at you. You blinked your eyes going wide as you saw his face. His very much Dick Grayson face.

Nightwing is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson is Nightwing......

You talked about your crush to your crush.........

As your mind exploded in on itself Nightson- Dickwing- the man in front of you held out his hands as if he was going to catch you were you to faint.

You laughed slightly then proceeded to place your face in your hands and let out moans of despair.

He knew.

He knew every little thing that you thought- well most of the things that you thought. He knew of your side of the situation- wait. Wait, why did he ask that? Why did he-

“Why did you ask me if my anxiety tends to make me tune people out?” You found yourself questioning.

Dickwing- or whoever he was smiled at you and laughed slightly before replying,

“Well, because when we were in the aisle at the library and you asked what I liked I said I like you.”

You froze once again blinking in surprise. So he tried to ask you out previously. That’s why Jason and Damian were laughing.

Jason and Damian.... if Dick was Nightwing that meant they were probably vigilante’s too. Red Robin.... definitely Tim.

Bruce must be Batman which would mean Damian is Robin. That just left Jason.

However, before you could try and figure out which vigilante Jason was, your phone buzzed. Pulling it out of your pocket you looked at your phone to see a text from Eddie.

Eddie: Come to the station, now, you need to see this.

You showed ... Dick your phone. He hummed slightly and gave you a look.

“We might as well go... but first let me change”

You nodded with a sigh and went and got your coat.

Before you knew it you were walking up to the station. On the roof of the station was a flash of red. As you got closer you realized it wasn’t a flash but a helmet. Sitting on the roof of the Gotham City police department was Red Hood.

He spotted you and Dick and waved. You blinked as you noticed the other man tied up on the roof looking fairly angry. It was Daniel. Your breathing stopped for just a moment until he tried to wriggled only for Red Hood to kick him and for Daniel to stop moving.

“Oh would you look at that, it’s a pretty librarian. How ya doin sweetheart?” Red Hood remarked getting just a bit closer to you.

You heard Dick sigh and gave Red Hood a confused look. Slowly the gear in your mind began to turn.

“I assume,” Red Hood mused since he didn’t get an answer from you, “You’re doing much better now that scum like Natalonie’s off the streets am I right?”

Before you could reply Eddie walked out of the station looking at her phone. She looked up at you and waved before walking towards you. She stopped at your side and gestured towards Red Hood.

“See what I mean?” She remarked.

“Detective, Detective, Detective,” Red Hood whistled looking at Eddie, “where can I get your number?”

Eddie replied in a sweet tone, “Up your ass maybe?”

Red Hood laughed before getting even closer to the edge of the roof, “Come on doll that’s no way to be.”

“Fuck off to some one who care Hood.” Eddie replied, flipping him the bird.

You heard Red Hood laugh again but before he could say anything else he looked in a different direction and his shoulders sank a little. Looking back to Eddie, had he not been wearing a helmet you swear he would be smiling.

“I guess I’ll have to try you again later Detective.”

Eddie rolled her eyes, the semblance of a smile starting to form on her face, she shook her head and flipped him off again, “In your dreams Hood.”

“Where else would they be doll?” Red Hood remarked before giving a quick salute and taking off.

It took you a moment to realize it but the puzzle piece began to fit together. How Eddie nearly called Red Hood by his name, why he seemed to know who you were, why he talked to you so casually when you met him when you were staying with Eddie.

Red Hood was Jason... which meant Eddie was the girl. The one he couldn’t get over. It all made sense... well sort of.

“Oh my gosh.” You muttered pressing a hand to your face as you realized that Eddie shoved Jason out a window.

“You just connected it didn’t you?” Dick asked with a smile.

You looked at him slightly confused, raising an eyebrow almost in question, you give him a confused look.

“Daniel’s going to prison for a very long time.” Eddie informed you as she looked at her phone again shaking her head, she looked up and smiled at you.

“Have fun you two,” She then said with a wink before turning to walk away.

You flushed slightly before turning to Dick. He smiled at you and you took in a breath.

He was the only man who had your affections. Basically All the Man that you needed. So you should probably tell him how you feel.

“I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.” You said slowly, not exactly meeting his eyes.

He laughed slightly before pressing his head to yours, “Neither do I.”

You smiled and looked up, looking at him in his bright blue eyes.

“So, how about a rain-check on that date?”

You smiled slyly and then the both of you burst into laughter.

“I’ve got time,” He replied, “for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Blushing slightly, you smiled at him and sighed, “Awesome.”

=============================================================

AUTHOR’S NOTE!!!!

Okay first thing’s first I just wanna let you guys know my original idea of all the man that I need was like gonna be a full on fic. I told my friend all about it and like it had a lot details and everything, but then I got to college and even thought I really love doing these, it was super difficult to write. Not because I don't’ have tome because I actually have a surprising amount of free time but because I just couldn’t find any inspiration. So a few days ago I decided I was going to start spooky season a little early and try writing to some Halloween music.... and it worked! I was able to get moving with this two-shot! So yeah Halloween music is my muse right now 😂.

But yeah, anyways my OC’s... technically there was a lot of them in this but only two are going to have stories, the others will be either background characters or part of their past. I’ll tell you one because it’s actually the first idea I and for a batfam fanfic. It’s Eddie and her story. I’m not gonna lie it’s kinda sad but not nearly has sad as the other one because I have a lot of issues🤣.

Back to the point if y’all wanna see more of certain OC’s just let me know I can find a way to include them into the one-shots, two-shots or fics. But yeah.

Finally I might be a little slower on the posting just because I’m in school and finding enough time to get inspiration and write, edit and have a friend proof-read it will take a while. But I will definitely have some done. Anyway thanks so much for being sooo patient with me!

Lots of love!

-Redhead-batgirl

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003, @battlenix, @sol-the-salmon

110 notes · View notes

spaceskam · 4 years

Text

a little bit of Alex attempting to chill for @bamfalexmanes ❤️

ao3

warning: mentions of forlex, mentions of noah

Alex woke up at 5 o’clock sharp.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Alex jumped at the voice and was about two seconds away from setting off his taser before he realized who had spoken. Isobel, for some reason, was standing at the foot of his bed with her arms crossed over her chest. He dropped the taser and took a deep breath, unable to stop staring at her like she’d lost her damn mind.

“Why are you here? No, how are you here? I have a fuck ton of security,” Alex said. Isobel gave that award-winning smile and came closer to sit on the edge of his bed.

“And I have a very talented brain,” she said, batting her eyelashes. Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ve decided you needed a day off. You’ve been stressed out and it’s stressing me out, so I called in sick for you and broke in to turn your alarm off and you woke up without it.”

“The alarm is just in case,” Alex said, still glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulders in a failed attempt at making him lay back down. “You can’t just call into my work or decide I need a day off. I have shit to do.”

“Not anymore,” she insisted, “I called in and your superior completely understood and said to rest and I got Michael and Kyle to take on all your alien-investigation duties, so you’re free. And I’ve got your nice little woodland boyfriend to agree to a chill Alex day. No stress today, it’s forbidden.”

“I don’t actually trust them to do my work, so now I’m going to just stress more because I know they’ll fuck it up,” Alex shot back.

“Nope,” she said, patting his head, “Michael is pretty meticulous about doing things just the way you like it. It’s gross.” Alex kept his glare. “Seriously, go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep once I wake up.”

“Well, then stay in bed. I’ll cook you breakfast in bed or something.”

“Isobel--”

“Hush,” she said, pressing her finger to his lips and ignoring the annoyed look on his face, “You’ve done a lot for us, let us do something for you for once, okay?”

Reluctantly, Alex agreed and slowly laid back in bed.

“Isobel, if you’re making eggs, make sure you use the--”

“Nope! Not controlling anything today! La-la-la, can’t hear you being controlling!” she yelled, covering her ears as she left the room. Alex rolled his eyes and tried to relax.

Relaxing definitely didn’t come easy to him, it never had. He’d clung onto the little bit of control he had and, if he lost that, it stressed him out. He remembered always taking over in school projects and taking over making dinner when he was younger, always convinced that if he didn’t do it himself it wouldn’t get done right. As an adult, he clung to that control all the same. But Isobel had apparently done a lot to make him have a stress-less day, so he was going to enjoy it. Or try.

He made it five minutes before he grabbed his phone.

Isobel had put it on Do Not Disturb which he had to maintain a massive amount of willpower to not turn off. Instead, he went ahead and called Forrest himself. Then he would abide by Isobel’s relaxation rules.

“Excuse me, did I misread something? I thought it was let Alex relax day,” Forrest asked, amusement in his voice. Alex smiled and tried to focus on his light existence to help him relax.

“It is, but I’m convinced Isobel is deliberately using the wrong pan,” Alex admitted. Forrest snorted and Alex could hear the sounds of horses in the background. It was nice having a boyfriend on a ranch--he was always up as early as Alex.

“How dare she use the omelet pan for scrambled eggs?” Forrest teased.

“You say it like it’s funny,” Alex said. Forrest laughed easily.

“It is funny. Just relax, babe. Isobel has been planning this for, like, two weeks. She even made you guys a reservation at a spa. Which I’m only telling you because I know you don’t like surprises, but act surprised whenever y’all show up,” he informed. Alex took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he said. Forrest hummed in response.

“And if you want me to come over and help you relax a little more tonight, I can. Shine the bat signal and I’ll be over in the blink of an eye,” Forrest said.

“I might take you up on that. Haven’t decided how effective Isobel’s relaxation techniques are going to work on me,” Alex admitted, letting the line fall silent. Eventually, though, he sighed and sat up. “Okay, I’m gonna try to enjoy it. Keep your afternoon free.”

“Every moment of every day is free if you’re the one asking.”

“Dork.”

“Always.”

Alex ended the call and put his phone in his dresser drawer. He was going to try. If Isobel went through all this trouble, it was the least he could do.

He stretched and grabbed the remote from the foot of the bed, turning on the TV and going to Netflix. He decided on New Girl (only because Forrest had already started watching it on his account) and tried to just relax.

And it was still hard.

“Aw, look at you, still laying in bed after twenty minutes,” Isobel teased, coming in with two plates of food. He tried not to be concerned when she sat beside him in bed. He usually didn’t eat in bed and he had a lot of memories of his father being angry at him for having food in his bedroom. But he was a grown ass man and he could wash the sheets.

“I’ve laid in bed longer than twenty minutes after I woke up before,” Alex said.

“I mean when you don’t have someone in bed being all distracting,” Isobel said. Alex didn’t correct her. “Thought so.”

For an episode of the show that Alex found funny enough, they sat and ate. Alex thanked her for cooking and tried not to think about if she used the wrong pan or the wrong spatula or the wrong plate. He allowed the plates to be put on the nightstand to take out of the room later and they both laid down and let it go to the next episode.

He felt himself start to relax a little more. Every time his mind tried to remind him of something he needed to do, he shut it down and reassured himself that Michael and Kyle were taking care of it. And if he snuck away later to call Michael to double check, Isobel didn’t need to know.

There was a point where Isobel started telling random stories about whatever she could think of. It was such a distinct thing that he chose not to say anything about. She was trying to open up. She was trying to be a friend. He was going to let her and reciprocate because that didn’t sound bad.

“Wait, wait, back up, you did what?” Alex laughed. Isobel grinned.

“Technically it was more Max and Michael’s doing, but they broke into the football team’s locker room and stole all of their socks after they laughed at me for something I don’t even remember. I think I was blacked out at the time, but they still just wanted to defend me,” Isobel said. Alex laughed and shook his head.

“But why their socks?”

“Small, but extremely annoying,” Isobel pointed out, “They threw them in the desert.”

“Jesus,” Alex laughed, “My brothers would never.”

“Well, you’re in luck because you’ve got people that would do it for you now,” she said, giving him that same wild smile. Alex huffed and nodded.

“Good, I’ll let you know if there’s any socks that need to be stolen.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

They laid there for awhile, until the birds had stopped chirping for the morning and the clock read 8:30. Then she suggested he get ready because she had some plans for the day. Already knowing what those were, he agreed.

He let himself take his time, actually taking his time on washing his face and fixing his hair. He wanted to look nice if he was supposed to be feeling nice. He got his prosthetic on and chose something nice but comfortable and decided it was good enough. When he came out of the bathroom, Isobel whistled her appreciation.

“Damn, I knew you had it in you to look good,” Isobel said.

“Here I was thinking I always looked good.”

“Eh, well, your fatigues make you look boxy and when you slick your hair back, you look like you’re trying to blend in too much. I like the messy look with the whole tank-top-open-button-up combo you got going on,” Isobel said, gesturing to him. Alex laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” Alex snorted. He looked over to the nightstand to see that she’d already taken them to the kitchen. He just hoped she washed them. “So, what exactly are the plans for today?”

“I’ve got a few things in mind,” Isobel said, that sly little smile on her face. He huffed a laugh and mentally thanked Forrest again for spoiling it for him.

Within a few hours, Alex found himself laid out on a massage table a few feet away from Isobel. She didn’t say anything about it, but he had decided she had a left over couple’s spa trip that she forgot about making reservations for and decided to bring Alex along instead.

He was honestly thankful he didn’t have to be by himself. As awkward as it was to be basically naked a few feet away from your ex’s sister, it was a lot less awkward than it would’ve been if he found himself alone with a stranger that he couldn’t see properly. He needed to be aware of his surroundings to relax and it definitely helped that there were other people in the same room.

So he tried his best. He wasn’t a big fan of massages, having really conflicted feelings about being touched by strangers in general, but he tried. He imagined it was someone he knew, someone he trusted to touch him without making it uncomfortable. Basically anyone he’d hooked up with except for that cadet he hooked up with a few years into the Air Force who kept asking questions about why he had so many scars.

After the massage, they were taken to go get facials which Alex made about half-way through before he had to stop. Too much keeping his eyes closed and that was something he couldn’t do, but he thanked the woman anyway and made small talk while Isobel did the whole thing. It was actually pretty relaxing in a completely different way.

“This one is gonna be your favorite, I just know it,” Isobel insisted once the facials were over and they were headed to the next room. Alex was smiling easily for what felt like the first time in awhile. No forced smiles or no smiles that only lasted a few seconds. Isobel seemed to notice and she held her head up with pride.

They got manicures and pedicures next which had easily proved Isobel right. Part of Alex felt downright giddy about it. The last time he’d gotten a manicure and pedicure was on Maria’s 18th birthday and he barely even got to enjoy them that long. After DADT was repealed, he’d thought about going to get one, but couldn’t bring himself to go alone. But maybe he and Isobel needed to make this a regular thing.

“See, I told you you’d like it,” Isobel said.

“Thank you, Isobel, seriously,” Alex said. She smiled, shrugging a shoulder as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. But it was. He was actually relaxing for once. That meant a lot.

“Don’t mention it. Did I ever tell you about that time we went water skiing and Max broke his nose?”

It wasn’t until they went to a fancy restaurant that she had reservations at that he noticed she’d been talking a lot. Like, significantly more than usual. It wasn’t long that he caught on she was just trying to keep her mind off of real life too.

“Be honest,” Alex said halfway through their meal, “You needed today too.”

Isobel’s smile turned a bit sour and she took a deep breath. It was so distinctly Michael that it was almost jarring.

“Today would’ve been my 6th wedding anniversary,” she admitted. Alex tried to keep his reactions in check, but he couldn’t help the way he instantly felt bad that clearly no one else had known that.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just needed to do something to take my mind off it,” she insisted. Alex didn’t say anything, just stared at her. It most definitely wasn’t fine. “I just... I feel like I’m never going to stop missing this man I thought I knew.”

“Honestly? You probably won’t,” Alex said. Isobel scoffed.

“Well, thanks.”

“I mean, look, he was taken from you in a really horrible way. It’s not like he showed his true colors at all. You had, what, half a decade with a man who treated you well at all times and seemed to put your needs first and was kind. It makes sense for you to mourn him even if he wasn’t real,” Alex assured her.

“I hate it, though,” she admitted.

“If it helps, I didn’t even have that much with my dad and I’m still mourning him. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating, but it’s apart of life,” Alex assured her. She tilted her head.

“Alex, this day is supposed to be about comforting you,” she said playfully. He gave her a smile.

“It can be about both of us,” he said, “I tell you what, let’s make this day into something different. It’s no longer a wedding anniversary to a shitty man who lied, it’s now Isobel and Alex’s Annual Chill Day.”

Isobel laughed, “You really want to do this with me every year?”

“If you needed me to do this with you every month, I would,” Alex promised. He saw tears build in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You’re my friend, Isobel, and one of the only people that hasn’t fucked me over. I don’t take that lightly.”

“Okay, then. Isobel and Alex’s Annual Chill Day it is,” she said, raising her glass of wine. He raised his to hers.

“Gotta love new traditions.”

And he did. That night, Isobel stayed over and he got one of the best night’s sleep he’d had in awhile. He didn’t even need a man in his bed to get it.

It helped knowing Isobel felt the same exactly way.

#isobel & Alex fic #isobel & alex #isobel evans #alex manes #rnm fic #my fic

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-23

More homestuuuuuck

I’m a little tired today so I don’t expect much intelligent analysis out of myself, but if anything classpecty happens I doubt I’ll be able to help myself regardless.

oh, always

(EDITS: added note on horn colors, link to ask on potential Blood powers reference)

> CHAPTER 12. Really Convoluted Metaphorical Horseshit

cuuute

In the bowels of a different ship, at a moment in time that is not pinpointable in either direction from the previous interaction, another Dave raps quietly to himself.

another dave raps quietly to himself. i am glad that phrase exists it brings me joy

(LATER EDIT: A friend on Discord pointed out that throughout this entire update, Karkat's horns are #FF0000 red. They were normal candy-corn colors in previous glimpses at the ship crew, though they used a dark single-color shortcut typical of old Homestuck at one point... but THIS time it stays STARK red even when we zoom in close later. Is this just artistic liberty? Did Karkat color his horns for fashion? Does this happen to red-bloods like the Sufferer after a certain age? Just how much time has actually passed, here? We might have to wait for the commentary for this one.)

KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING. KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.

Karkat really has chilled out hasnt he? like this is surprisingly level for him, and that fact is hilarious.

KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.

oh gosh that’s why he’s rapping

> ==>

DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story DAVE: except the flower was a person DAVE: because it was a metaphor

Oh right, coming back to the Little Prince stuff I was too lazy to metaphor-deep-dive into, and literally asking the same questions we were asking about who the Little Prince’s story applies to mapped here if anyone at all, like Dirk and such, or what biases were in the retelling of it and the way Kanaya phrased it. So now we’re practically mocking it by deep diving it here, hence the last page’s “DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit”, which means we’re both about to further explore AND shit all over the existence of this story metaphor until it doesn’t mean anything and most of the meaning we drew from it earlier is made a joke~

well, not “we”, cause I was too lazy, so... y’all

DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said

Oh holy shit. That’s yet another way to put it. Are we doing a whole moral takedown of the Light aspect today? cause it sounds like we’re taking a dump on the Light aspect and RoboRose getting too obsessed and immersed in it, which would be excellent

DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose

exactly

DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that

yes absolutely, you just rephrased it a different way with that exact same bias

DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing

perfect. i need an emoji for that Italian thing for when you pinch your thumb and forefinger together and kiss it

ah this’ll do:

its like the expression “choice” but in nonverbal form

[...] whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT DAVE: gotem DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean

Anytime dave is told to get to the point he is contractually obligated to spend at least 20 seconds talking about how he’ll get to the point in a way that is not getting to the point

DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about

Great examples of Light being good and bad! Attaching strands of connective meaning to everything. --though, in Dave’s case AND Kanaya’s case you could argue it’s both bad in terms of effects. That it’s great for Kanaya to care, but that she should be able to divest herself and live on her own terms without idealizing Rose literally everywhere she looks, personal growth which would be useful in helping bring Rose back to her in the first place. The struggle they’re looking forward to is largely philosophical, not just physical, and until Rosebot acknowledges that she was wrong it’s not over.

DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.

Pretty sure Dave was on the same page as most Epilogue and start-of-HS2 readers. This situation is pretty bleak to dump our heroes into, no matter how much we believe will be resolved in the long run.

DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED. DAVE: nice KARKAT: YEAH. KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS? DAVE: absolutely

--ah, Great British Bake-Off, can’t say I’ve indulged

do they still have that?? did they save it from old Earth? or did they go where unflooded Britain used to be and say hey, new show reboot

KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF. KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.

That last line is like, exactly as fucking sweet and awesome as we imagined their relationship to be. :)

> ==>

OH MY GOD THAT’S ADORABLE

DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from

indisputably.

DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror

I really hope that the writers of HS2 know full well that this feeling? the one Dave is describing here? is what many of us who got way overinvested in the well-being of Homestuck’s surviving characters felt reading the Epilogues and Homestuck^2. So I really hope they’re working through it in a way that will result in a preponderance of GOOD THINGS happening and hope-filled situations. Cause that “can’t even think about X” feeling is too familiar, and if they understand it as well as it LOOKS like they’re getting to, I’d really like them to give us a helping hand healing.

I think that’s what they’re going for? Seems hopeful for me to think so, but they HAVE been doing better as HS2 has been going forward, from an emotional standpoint anyway; definitely better than the Epilogues. And I’ve worked through some of that stuff with the help of that, because it’s MUCH easier nowadays to think about Homestuck without my gut clenching.

DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there

Mhmm, Karkat’s potentially a pretty good person to speak with here since he’s done so much work trying not to feel responsible for everything that’s ever gone wrong.

DAVE: also like DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that DAVE: i just DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i DAVE: ugh DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him

Yeah, Dirk and Jane’s heel-turns were really shitty for anyone who was a fan of them in the fanbase, as well.

KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.

That is an adorably real boyfriend-laying-in-boyfriend’s-lap thing to do

DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable DAVE: but well survive it KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON. DAVE: but you KARKAT: DAVE. DAVE: no lemme say this

Oh god damnit. Karkat’s limited lifespan. As if we hadn’t ALREADY covered a nauseatingly extensive gamut of disheartening topics of conversation. We really have to confront every shred of misery in their past, present and future one after the other after the other in the Epilogues and HS2, don’t we? >:(

I guess it had to be discussed, though.

DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered DAVE: come up with some kind of plan DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die

Jesus. I mean, WE know(?) that it’s not gonna be THAT many years, but THEY don’t know that.

Unless it really IS going to be that many years and HS2 is going to shamelessly take a fucking sledgehammer to our feelings for no goddamn good reason. Which it won’t! Right??? >:T

> ==>

Dishwasher ding

> Dave: Grapple with the clean, soggy consequences of the passage of time.

Hey, don’t make it a metaphor here. --though, fuck. I suppose we are dealing with everyones dirty laundry. God damnit. SURE, deal with it all story but then GET IT OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT SOME SERIOUS FUN AND LAUGHS IN HERE so we don’t feel like we’re wading through an entire garbage dump!!! *click*

Karkat’s eyebrows-only mouthless frown is really cute.

> ==>

okay Karkat explain the nope you’re lodging

> ==>

*put*

> ==>

*foot*

> ==>

DAVE: ok go on

I mean I at least appreciate the time investment in adorable boyfriends. That’s definitely something of SOME good value they’re giving us in exchange for this misery

> ==>

That Karkat image makes me wanna do that red-shaky-gif-thing with it

KARKAT: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M NEW TO THE PARTICULAR MOOBEAST WRANGLING EVENT OF SOMEONE I PREVIOUSLY LOVED BRUTALLY TURNING ON ME AND LEAVING ME TO TRY AND CRAM MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE SITUATION BACK TOGETHER ALL ON MY OWN.

True

KARKAT: HE DID THAT ON HIS OWN. AND WE MADE THE CHOICE TO GO AFTER HIM ON OUR OWN.

Yes, and you’ll possibly convince him more of that over time, though not in this short conversation

KARKAT: I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR LITTLE TRAIL OF COOKIE CRUMB FEARS UNTIL IT LEAD TO THE BIG SNACK FINALE OF WORRY ABOUT MY FRAGILE MORTAL MEATSACK. KARKAT: IF I HAVE SOMEHOW NOT BEEN CLEAR ABOUT THIS WITH YOU YET, LET ME GO AHEAD AND RECTIFY THE SITUATION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. KARKAT: HANGING OUT WITH YOU ON THIS LONG TRIP TO WHO THE SHITTING FUCK KNOWS WHERE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE HAPPIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY ENTIRE MEAGER EXISTENCE. KARKAT: I'M SO ABSOLUTELY BLISSED THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND TO BE ABLE TO LOOK AT YOUR STUPID IMMORTALLY SMOOTH HUMAN FACE SKIN EVERY DAY AND NOT HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT IT.

D’AWWW

And with that darkly angry expression too, that’s PERFECT

I mean it’s true. What exactly would they be doing DIFFERENTLY on Earth C other than enjoying each other like this? It’s pretty fucking great.

...hm. Isn’t this journey-not-the-destination stuff pretty Breathy? Karkat’s proving more balanced by the moment.

KARKAT: AND I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU. IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN EXPERIENCING SOME COMPLICATED GUILT, MYSELF. KARKAT: THE FACT THAT I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE JUST FUCKING CHILLAXING AND BEING IN LOVE IN SPACE IS A CLEARLY INCONGRUOUS WITH THE REASON I'M ACTUALLY HERE CHILLAXING TO BEGIN WITH, AND I'M NOT LETTING MYSELF FORGET THAT, EITHER.

Pff. He feels guilty for ENJOYING IT so much. <3

KARKAT: BUT I RESENT THE IMPLICATION THAT MY HAPPINESS IS REGISTERING FOR YOU AS YOU HAVING TO JUST "SIT AROUND AND WATCH ME GET OLD," BECAUSE I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S MORE THAN THAT.

I’m glad Karkat knows that DAVE knows somewhere in him that it’s more than that, because yeah, if Karkat thought he DIDN’T know that at some level that’d be a reason to take MUCH MORE SERIOUS offense.

KARKAT: LIKE, JESUS, DAVE. YOU KNOW I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, TOO, RIGHT? KARKAT: OR DID YOU FORGET THE WHOLE HEROIC DEATH THING? KARKAT: I WORRY ABOUT LOSING YOU FAIRLY FUCKING REGULARLY.

Hah!!! Point taken. Karkat must view Dave as practically more fragile than HIM.

KARKAT: ONE: WE'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA THAT I REFUSE TO NOT ENJOY THIS SHIT WHEN I FINALLY FUCKING GET IT, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT MAY OR MAY NOT LAST. KARKAT: TWO: IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE DOING NOTHING. WE’RE MOVING. WE’RE WORKING. WE’RE HEADED SPECIFICALLY TO A PLACE WHERE WE WILL UNDOUBTLEDLY ENDURE YET MORE FUCKING HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA. KARKAT: AND THREE: WE'RE DOING THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE FRIENDS WHO WE CARE ABOUT THAT NEED US. THAT IS OUR FOCUS, HERE. NOT OUR FEAR. IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE WE HAVE TO SAVE. KARKAT: SO DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT ME, DAVE. I'M FINE.

Okay, this is great and wholesome. I am now retroactively GLAD that this topic got brought up. :)

> ==>

Dave is still afraid. There is a part of him that will always be, he thinks. He has accepted this about himself. There is another feeling coursing through him too, though. It’s something he's felt before, though never quite so intensely. He looks up at Karkat and understands, viscerally, the simple power his words have. They pump through Dave’s own body, alive and warm and true.

He wonders if Karkat realizes it, or if he’s just, as always, saying what he feels as he feels it. Dave doesn’t attempt to dissect it further. There will be time for that later.

Every really loving moment like this is sort of undercut by the fact that it’s also, in some senses, part of alt!Calliope’s narration and, by extension, her fanfiction.

EDIT 2: There's also either a hint to potential Blood powers or even an explicit Blood power use here that I didn't recognize. I'm leaning towards it's-laying-the-groundwork-for-future-use-of-Blood-powers-but-isnt-magical-in-this-case.

> ==>

Smooooch!

That was nice. Still gonna wait on doing any commentary til next time or a Bonus update or two, cause I’m beat. See y’all next time!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers #Breath and Blood #Light and Void

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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years

Text

Part 9 | The Jumpsuit, Falling & (more) Ripped Trousers | 6.1k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Masterlist

a/n: I hope y’all are doing what you need to during this crazy time. All the love to you all !!! 💕also...a little bit of niall in this part... go stream HBW !!!

The loud knock on the door causes Harry and Aurora to jump and scramble to sit up on the couch.

“Heard there’s a curly headed boy in here!”

A once blonde, now brunette head pops into the doorway. If the irish accent wasn’t enough to give away who it was, his face surely does. Aurora messes with her hair and Harry wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, trying their best to compose themselves. They had made their way back to Harry’s dressing room from the empty arena before Harry was to be pulled away for training, soundcheck and all the usual pre show prep. One thing led to another and the episode of Friends Aurora had pressed play on was long forgotten.

“Niall!” Harry exclaims, jumping off the couch. He hugs his old friend as Aurora is frozen on the couch. Harry hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of Niall coming to the show tonight. It didn’t even cross Aurora’s mind that in Dublin (duh), that Niall might be in attendance. A deer in headlights describes Aurora best at this moment. “Haven’t seen ‘ur hair this messy in ages! Who do you have here with you?” Niall jokes, his laugh filling the space. When Harry steps out of the doorway to invite Niall in, he fixes his hair and Niall’s laughter stops. Niall lets out a surprised “Oh,” with a small laugh.

“Uh, Niall, this is Ror- uh, Aurora,” he corrects himself, a dopey smile forming on his face.

“Lovely to meet you, Aurora,” Niall offers a hand out to her.

“Wasn’t how I was intending to introduce the 2 of you, but here we are,” Harry adds.

“Uh, great to meet you as well, Niall,” Aurora says as she stands up. She shakes his hand. “Harry, you could’ve said he was coming,” Aurora comments directly to Harry.

“It wasn’t for sure yet and I kind of wanted it to be a surprise,” Harry tells Aurora.

“A surprise?” Niall questions. “For Aurora?” He continues to question as he gestures to Aurora, a small look of confusion on his face.

“Ugg,” Aurora groans, to no one in particular, “Harry, please don’t.”

“Hey, if you’re going to rub in my face that you were once a ‘Niall girl’,” he uses air quotes to pester her more, “then I’m going to have some fun with it.” Niall’s laugh echoes off the walls of the dressing room.

“I’m gonna need more of a story behind this,” Niall says through bouts of laughter.

Aurora groans again, rolling her eyes at Harry before turning back to Niall. “Wish we could've had this conversation over some drinks, but here we are.”

“We could get drinks right now, I know where the bar is,” Niall adds.

“I’m technically working… so drinking is a no,”

“But making out on the couch is fine?” Harry asks through a chuckle, Niall’s laugh joins in.

“Oh god, the 2 of you together is really gonna be like this huh?”

“Like what?” Harry asks.

“You 2 picking on me and just overall, chaotic.” The 2 former bandmates shrug their shoulders when they make eye contact.

“Anyways,” Niall circles back to the original request, “I need the story. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did Harry say ‘Niall girl’?”

“He sure did. I made the mistake to share that I once had One Direction posters on my wall growing up. Definitely pumped Harry’s ego a bit and I had to bring it down by informing him that I was a quote unquote a Niall Girl back then.” Aurora sighs and then laughs at the face Niall is making at Harry. “Ni, you don’t have a chance anymore, so stop even entertaining the thought in your head,” Harry says as he tosses an arm around Aurora’s shoulders.

“How much does it kill you that she had posters of me in her room?” Niall asks Harry.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Harry states with a straight face.

“Can we not talk about any of this anymore?” Aurora questions, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment still. Both Harry and Niall’s laughter fill the room once again and Aurora can’t help but smile at the 2 old friends.

Harry ushers them both to the empty couch and chairs to sit back down. Niall opts for the chair after grabbing a sparkling water from the fridge under the vanity counter. Niall seems carefree and comfortable. Harry doesn’t talk much about being in the band or the other guys much. It’s not that he avoids it at all costs. If it comes up he’ll talk but he doesn’t volunteer the conversation himself. Aurora does know that he keeps in touch with Niall the most. She had caught him giggling at something on his phone recently and when she asked what it was all he said was that Niall sent him a joke.

“I’ve seen the suits you’ve got our boy Harold in, they’re incredible, really,” Niall comments to Aurora.

“Oh, yeah, I only helped pick some of them out, thanks though,” Aurora says shyly.

“Don’t do that,” Harry interrupts. “You’ve done more than that.” Aurora only blushes slightly and shakes her head.

“Getting him in clothes is the hardest part, honestly,” Niall comments.

“Why does everyone say that?” Aurora questions. “Gemma made the same comment and Lambert alluded to it as well.”

“Harry over here was barely dressed half the time and would put up a fight when he was told to put pants or a shirt on for anything. Quite a show off back in the day,” Niall shares.

Aurora laughs, “Well, I haven’t had much trouble.”

“Think there’s something more in it for him when he listens,” Niall says.

Harry rolls his eyes at Niall. An alarm rings from Harry’s phone.

“I’ve gotta head to sound check, wanna come with, Ni?” Harry asks as he stands up. Niall agrees to join and the 2 boys stand up to leave.

“Have a good sound check,” Aurora says before pressing a kiss to his lips quickly. “Niall, seriously it was great meeting you. I’m assuming you’re staying for the show?” He nods, “Great, I’ll see you later then.”

“Great to meet you too. See you later, Aurora,” Niall says, his blue eyes bright and his irish accent strong.

| | | | |

Harry’s dressing room becomes a common room tonight and by the time Harry has to get ready, his whole band is in here. Niall’s tagged along with Harry since he got here earlier and Aurora has enjoyed the commotion for once. Niall is sharing a story about one of the many shows they had done together when Aurora finishes prepping Harry’s jumpsuit for the show. She joins Sarah on the couch while waiting for Harry to be done with Ayae.

“He falls flat on his arse,” Niall continues telling the story. “In front of a sold out arena. No idea what he even tripped on or anything, to this day.”

“Hey!” Harry interrupts. “There was a loose flap on the stage!” He defends.

“Buddy, I really don’t think there was, but keep telling people that if it makes you feel better.” Harry rolls his eyes at Niall.

“Ror, I’m ready!” Harry says as he walks towards the wardrobe cases. Aurora gets off the couch to help get him into the jumpsuit.

“Hey, Mully just messaged saying he was here,” Niall says to Harry. “I’m gonna go find him.” Harry and Niall hug for a moment, a few pats on the back, Niall wishing him good luck. Aurora smiles at the two. No love was lost between them. Though Aurora doesn’t know everything about what that time was like, she's grateful that behind all the rumors and drama Harry and Niall still get along like they did when they first met on the X Factor. She’s most grateful for the fact that Harry has someone who understands it all. Someone who can relate to him and someone to share those memories with. She’s supportive and understands what she can but she wasn’t there.

Harry’s band, Ayae and Helene follow Niall out the door leaving Aurora and Harry alone, just as it happens every night.

“Okay, here ya go,” Aurora says as she hands off the jump suit to Harry. He steps into the jumpsuit and pulls the sleeves up on his shoulders. He lets out a grunt when he goes to button it close. “What?” Aurora asks with a look of worry on her face.

“Uhm, fits a bit tighter than it did last,” Harry says slowly.

“Oh no…. Can you close it?”

“I mean, yeah, I think it’ll be fine, just not as roomy as it was for the Late Late Show.” Harry fastens the buttons up the front and adjusts the fabric in a few spots before he looks up to Aurora.

“Turn around for me,” she directs to inspect that it’s still okay to perform in. As he turns around Aurora’s jaw drops, “Oh.” The jumpsuit certainly fits tighter than it did last. “Uh, is it comfortable?” She stutters out.

“Uh yeah,” Harry moves around a bit. “Does it look okay?”

“Honest?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry says, slightly confused.

“So uh, it definitely fits tighter… but it looks really good.” It’s all that Aurora can say. Her brain actually cannot form anymore full sentences. It’s not that the jump suit looked bad when he wore it for the Kiwi performance on the Late Late Show almost a year ago, it’s just that it looks better than it did. Harry turns to Aurora to try to figure out what she’s thinking.

“What?” Harry asks when Aurora’s face is unreadable. He chuckles a little when her cheeks turn a light shade of pink under his gaze.

“Well your ass looks great.”

“Rory!” Harry yells, almost startled by the comment coming from her.

“What?! It’s the truth!” She says with a short laugh. “Let’s just say all those training sessions are doing their job.” Harry shakes his head, a small huff coming out of his mouth before a dimple inducing smile covers his face. He’s drawn towards Aurora and the look in her eyes. He can’t put his finger on it. When he gets his hands around her waist, instinctively he pulls her as close as she can get to him. Her hands grab on his shoulders and then slide down to his biceps. She lets out a small giggle as Harry presses his face into her neck, his lips landing on the soft skin below her ear. Aurora moves her hands to his chest to push him away from her to get him to stop tickling her neck with the soft touch of his lips. Pressing up to her toes, she kisses him square on the lips quickly before she pulls away from his hold. “Just don’t stop training.”

She pretends like nothing has happened and goes to grab Harry’s socks and shoes. She openly watches him as he puts them on. She follows him into the large, echoey bathroom as she always does. Hopping onto the counter she watches as he goes through his routine.

“So what’d you think of Niall?” Harry asks curiously, his face reads a hint of caution but also approval. Being the one member he has stayed in contact with the most, he’s hoping she likes him as much as he does. He’s also nervous. He’d be lying if he said the image of Aurora’s childhood bedroom with Niall’s face plastered on the walls wasn’t haunting his mind.

Aurora can see his brain churning as he asks the question and she smiles a little at the almost nervous look that is now on his face. “Crazy to meet him if I’m honest,” she shrugs. She sees Harry take a deep breath, his shoulders rising but not falling when he breathes out a shallow breath. “I’m glad you’ve kept in contact with him.” Aurora’s trying to direct the conversation to be about Niall and Harry not Niall and Aurora. She can tell he’s thinking too much. “Harry?” He hums at her as he finishes brushing his teeth. “You know, even though I had posters of Niall on my walls, I did take them down a long time ago. My mom found them in the back of my closet and they were there for a reason.” She sighs. He thinks too much and there’s reasons he thinks too much. She just doesn’t know why yet, but that conversation is for another day. “Babe,” at the pet name, Harry looks at her, “Niall wasn’t the one who took care of me when I burned my arm with a steamer. He doesn’t bring me coffee exactly how I like it or flirt with me by getting me new sneakers,” she laughs lightly. “He doesn’t make me laugh on a daily basis or know exactly when I could use a hug.” Now Aurora has hopped off the counter and is standing next to Harry, looking at him in the mirror. “He’s not you. He never will be no matter what. I may have had posters of him on my walls 4 years ago but that doesn’t matter anymore.” Aurora turns to face Harry and he follows her movement so they’re face to face now. She tucks a rogue curl back into place before continuing. “You’re all that matters, okay? I’m here, with you, yeah? Please stop thinking so much,” she pleads. Harry nods minutely. A small smile appears on his face, the cliche twinkle is back in his eye and he uses one hand to pull Aurora’s face to his, kissing her softly.

“You know I get in my head a lot,” Harry says quietly when they pull apart from each other. Aurora offers a small smile and sighs at him.

“I know, but you need to talk to me about it. Tell me when something isn’t sitting right, tell me anything. I can read you pretty well but I can only do so much.”

“Promise I’ll work on it as long as you promise me you’re a Harry girl now,” he mocks. Aurora groans as she pulls away from his hold.

“You know, you’re really good at ruining the moment?” She jokes as she walks back to the main part of the dressing room.

“You can’t deny you don’t adore it!” Harry yells back. She laughs and it echoes through both rooms and it makes Harry smile.

Aurora turns around when she hears him walk back through the door. There’s still a ghost of a smile on his face when he looks at her. She huffs, unable to form a thought when she goes to give the last look on his jumpsuit.

“What?” Harry questions, a sparkle in his eye.

“Nothing,” she brushes her thoughts away. Harry raises an eyebrow at her in question. “You look really good,” she admits with a shrug before turning away from him. She starts to pick up a few things to put away but Harry is quick to grab her waist and turn her around. She only sees the smile that’s covered his face for a moment before his lips are on hers.

| | | | |

Everyone has been spending the extra days off at the hotel’s private pool. They nap and read and just enjoy the time off. Harry and Aurora are sitting on a cushion covered wooden sectional that sits in the corner of the pool area covered by large yellow and white umbrellas. Regardless of the heat, Aurora snuggled into Harry’s side, his feet crossed at the ankle, propped up on the bench in front of them and his arm around her shoulders. He has one of his woven fedoras on and sunglasses covering his eyes. Aurora traces over the butterfly tattoo on his stomach, idly as he hums and rests his head on top of hers.

“This is nice,” he repeats for the hundredth time this afternoon. Aurora giggles in response. Harry turns his head and places a soft kiss to her hair. Harry starts humming again.

“Is that a new one?” Aurora asks.

“Ahhh not yet, just a little melody that’s been stuck in my head.”

“Are you writing for the next album?” She asks as she reaches for his cross necklace. Aurora fiddles with it between her thumb and pointer finger.

“Not purposefully. I’ll write whatever comes to me or record a voice note or something so I can use it later if I want. But not really thinking about the next album yet. I want to enjoy the tour and the first album more before I get into the next ” he shares, looking down at her.

“That makes sense. It seemed like it was always a quick turnaround for the band. Must be nice to enjoy it all and not have to think about the next thing when you’ve just started the first thing. ” She drops the necklace and her hand slides up the side of his neck and stops at his jawline. Aurora’s fingers trace lightly over the harshness of it.

“Yeah it’s been nice, more enjoyable” he smiles down at her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable-”

“Don’t have to explain yourself, I understand what you’re saying.” Aurora’s fingers don’t leave his jawline, only grip it harder to bring his face down to hers. His breath fans out across her face before his lips land on hers. She smiles when he pulls away for a brief moment. He mirrors her smile before going in to kiss her again. Between their smiles and the small giggles coming from both of them, they barely can connect their lips.

It’s when they’re laying in the same spot later, cold margaritas on the table nearby, the sun setting off in the distance when Aurora gets a glimpse of Harry that makes her heart swell. His face is soft as he enjoys the view. A tint of red covers the top of his cheeks and nose, the sun having made a mark. Everything feels so normal, so mundane. Three full days spent in the Australian sun has only made Aurora’s heart grow fonder of the curly headed boy that she’s tucked into. With nothing to do but enjoy each other’s company, laugh with their friends and soak up the sun, she’s had a lot of time to think about everything. She’s thought about how thankful she is that this is her life, that while working, this is the break she gets to take, that her job is to dress the man she’s falling in love with. She’s thought about that last part a lot. She’s not sure she’s falling in love with him so much as already fallen in love with him. She’s there. She fell and she fell hard and she’s there. She’s fallen so hard that a small glimpse of him in the light of the sunset is enough to make her want to give her whole self to him.

Aurora thinks about it the whole way back to the hotel room. Harry even asks why she’s so quiet. When she responds with “just thinking” he doesn’t stop the questioning there.

“Ror,” he whispers.

“What? You’re the only one who can think too much?” Aurora jokes as they walk into the elevator.

Harry sighs as a small smile ghosts his face, “what’re you thinking about, love?”

“Uhm, can I tell you once I’ve figured it out?”

Harry angles his body towards her so he can see her face completely. He pulls her closer to him with the hand that is at her waist. He kisses the top of her cheek then her temple. “Sure,” he says quietly, “just don’t go making up stories in that pretty little head of yours, okay?” Aurora nods.

Once they get back to the hotel room both of them take their turns to shower and get ready for bed. Aurora’s sitting on the bed, Harry’s rolling stone tshirt on and scrolling through her phone when Harry walks out of the bathroom.

“Did you call your mum?” he asks. Aurora mentioned that she wanted to when he hopped into the shower.

“Mom was asleep, but I called Leila,” Aurora explains.

“How is your sister?” He asks as he wrings out his hair with the towel one last time, tossing it back in the bathroom.

“Good…” she answers broadly, not totally focused on the conversation.

“Ror, you’re still thinking hard about something.”

“Yeah, no, I know. Promise I’m fine. Leila helped a bit.” Harry gives her a questioning look as he sits down on the bed with her. “I’m still trying to work it out in my head, okay?” He nods slowly at her. “We’re fine. I promise we are. Nothing to worry about,” she explains as she reaches for him. She’s endeared by the caring look in his eyes. He looks rested and calm and his skin has tanned a bit.

She pulls him into her rather than finding her spot tucked into his side. His hair is still damp and she knows if she touches it too much it’ll go all frizzy. So instead, she smoothes it down so it doesn’t tickle her neck too much. He willingly wraps his arms around her torso, his legs automatically finding her bare ones underneath the sheets and weaving with them. Subconsciously she starts to trace the ink that litters his arm.

“Ready for the show tomorrow?” Aurora asks after some silence.

“Yeah,” he answers slowly.

“Is it hard to go back to touringn after a small break?” She asks, curious. She always hated going back to school or work after long weekends or short trips. His job is different but it’s work, all the same.

“Uhm, it normally is a bit hard yeah, but feels a bit different now, this time.”

“What’d you mean by that?”

“It’s all a bit different now, used to be such a routine, go home for a few days or family and friends would come to me when I had a few days. It was always so hard when they left and I had to get back to work. Not that-”

“Not that you didn’t enjoy it,” Aurora finishes for him.

“I say that a lot, huh?”

“Don’t need to explain it to me, remember? I understand.” Harry sighs at Aurora’s words and lets his hand that's sitting on her hip find the hem of his t-shirt she’s wearing and slid underneath. He gives the skin at her hip a light squeeze before he lets the heat from his hand radiate on the skin there and rub circles into her flesh haphazardly.

“Right, well it was hard then cause I’d have to say goodbye and it was always for an unknown amount of time. I should’ve been going back to work well rested but I would stay up for hours in the night dreading having to leave or them leaving me.” Harry stops his movements and wraps his arms around Aurora tighter, his face burying itself in Aurora’s neck and breathing in the smell of her shampoo. He pulls his head away only for a moment to share the rest of his explanation. “But it’s different now because it’s my tour and it isn’t how it used to be and I’ve got you with me. And as long as you’re not planning on going anywhere I don't’ have to dread going back to work cause you’ll be there too.”

| | | | |

Aurora decides to watch from the mix tonight in Melbourne and by the time Harry makes his way to the Bstage she doesn’t regret the choice at all. Harry can spot her any night, but tonight is different. He catches a glimpse of her as he walks up the metal stairs, Mitch following not far behind. She still has on the black and white floral jacket. The one he wore years ago. The one he gave her, while sitting on the very stage he’s walking up. Only the stage was in an arena in a different continent. His smile mocked the glimmer of the gold foil on his suit and shined right up until the moment he focused on the next song.

“One, two, three, four,” he almost whispers into the mic. Mitch starts to play the guitar and Aurora’s heart swells when Harry starts singing ‘Sweet Creature.’

If anyone would ask Aurora what her favourite song of Harry’s is she’d probably end up listing the whole album. Right now though, her favourite is ‘Sweet Creature.’ If it were actually possible, his vocals would melt her heart into nothing. There’s something about it stripped down like this, it’s the most similar to how he sings when he’s on his own, when he’s with Aurora. It's the most similar to how he sounds when he’s in the shower or when he’s getting ready in the mornings. He’ll sing his current and old favourites and sometimes mess around with the melody of some of his own.

“You will bring me home,” he belts. “Sweet creature, sweet creature, when I run out of road,” he sings with his eyes closed, full heart and soul poured into each note. He lets the audience sing the next line. As Mitch’s guitar fills the speakers on its own and the audience screams louder, Aurora can tell Harry is trying to avoid turning in her direction but he can’t fight it. He turns his head to where she’s standing. She watches as his jaw softens. His eyes search the small section he knows Aurora’s standing in. When he finds her, a smile appears on his face. A dimple and the crinkles at his eyes follow the turn of his lips. His eyes twinkle. Maybe from the lights. Maybe it’s the result of the emotion of the song. Maybe it’s because he’s just seen the girl he’s in love with, singing along to his own song, in his old jacket with a look on her face that could be described as nothing short of absolute adoration.

He doesn’t linger long. He knows that he can’t stare at her from the stage forever and his cue is coming soon for the last line of the song.

“You will bring me home,” his voice sounds through the speakers, deep and clear. It rattles Aurora’s chest a bit.

Harry thanks Mitch and grabs his own guitar, now solo on the small stage. Even though Aurora can’t pick one favourite from Harry’s album she could give you at least her top 5 favourite One Direction songs. ‘If I Could Fly’ is without a doubt in the top 5. Aurora does think Harry’s version on his own is the best version of it. Every night she’s thoroughly entertained when Harry tries to quiet the audience before he asks them to sing the chorus for him. She can’t help but take on the smile that appears on his face when the entire audience is singing, in unison, the song he poured his heart into years ago.

As the song comes to an end and the opening of ‘Anna’ begins, Aurora’s eyes follow Harry as he walks down the stairs and back up the path that is littered with flowers and sparkles and signs and fans yelling his name. She sees the pile of flowers that sit on top of a crate at the edge of the mix near the bstage stairs and smiles. She can’t help but think how lucky she is to be standing here, wearing the Gucci jacket of dreams, getting to dress the rockstar that has just tossed his planet painted guitar over his chest and falling in love with him all at the same time.

| | | | |

The golden Calvin Klein suit is the last Aurora can take, she thinks. He screams sunshine in this. Just like that day in Amsterdam - so many things go back to that day in Amsterdam - the bright golden colour of the suit has the same effect that the yellow t-shirt did.

Aurora's tucked up in the corner of the couch in Harry’s dressing room. Harry is sitting in the chair in front of the vanity mirror, Ayae fixing his curls after Harry messed them up a few minutes ago. She can’t stop catching his eyes in the mirror and they both laugh quietly each time. When his hair is back in place and Harry thanks Ayae, he walks to where Aurora is on the couch. He raises an eyebrow up at her.

“You know,” Aurora starts, “there’s this thing,” she laughs nervously. “I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s gonna sound crazy, but you’re-you’re like,” she pauses before continuing, “sunshine. My own personal sunshine.” Harry tries to hide a smile as he places his hand on top of Aurora’s that is resting on her knee. He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of Aurora’s head.

“Don’t sound crazy to me, love. If I look like sunshine to you, then I'm your sunshine.”

Aurora pulls her hand out from underneath Harry's and grabs his face with both of them. She locks eyes with him for a short moment before pulling him down for a kiss.

| | | | |

Aurora and Helene are laughing while looking through the photos Helene took during the show tonight in Sydney. Some of the photos of Harry are quite entertaining to say the least.

“This one!” Aurora yells when Helene clicks to the next photo. “You have to post this one.” Helene laughs at Aurora’s eagerness. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh is it?” Helene pesters.

“His hair looks incredible. The lighting is perfect,” Aurora compliments. “And- and,” she stutters out, “he looks like sunshine.”

“You’re really in love with him, huh?” Helene asks with a newly serious tone. Aurora smiles at her before sighing.

“I mean, yeah,” she shrugs as if it’s not that scary. As if being in love with the world's biggest pop star isn’t something to be scared of. Like it’s not this terrifying idea, cause it’s not. At least not right at this moment.

He’s her sunshine and she’s in love.

| | | | |

“Do not tell me that was the sound of something ripping!” Aurora yells from across the large backstage space in Brisbane. She doesn’t dare to turn around to see the chaos that is happening surrounding the ping pong tables. She takes a deep breath as silence fills the room. Silence apart from Harry's laugh, that is.

“Oh, Rory,” Harry calls through fits of laughter.

When Aurora turns around her jaw drops and she has to force herself to take a deep breath so she doesn’t yell.

“15 minutes!” calls the stage manager. Aurora’s heart sinks before it starts to beat rapidly.

“Fucking hell,” she whispers to herself. “Take them off, I gotta fix ‘em,” she tells Harry as she reaches into her bag to find a needle and black thread.

“I’ll just put a different pair on. It’s fine,” Harry says as he walks towards Aurora.

“It’s not fine Harry. I’d have to steam another pair of pants, which will take more time than we have and anyways, we don’t have any other options. We only packed what was needed for the Australia shows.” Aurora is frustrated. 15 minutes before the show? Really?

“Oh,” is all Harry lets out as he slips out of the ripped pants.

“You just had to be doing trick shots right before the show, huh?” Aurora half laughs, half scolds as she sits down to stitch the rip up the inside of the leg of his pants.

“Sorry, Ror,” he offers as he begins to watch her get to work but his name is called back at the ping pong tables and he runs back to his game.

“Should probably put your shirt and jacket on at least!” Aurora calls after him, not looking up. “Won’t have a minute to spare once they're finished!” She doesn’t look up, too focused on the work at hand. It’s not till she hears the band and stage crew cheer not 2 minutes later that she looks up.

Harry’s standing at one end of the ping pong table with only his boxers and tall black socks on, a look of pride covering his face. The paddle outstretched in one hand and he’s taking in the cheers as he does on stage.

Now Aurora’s angry. Here she is doing her job, trying to fix the pants Harry has ripped almost the entire length of while Harry is off, still playing around, now 10 minutes till the show is supposed to begin.

“Rory!” he sings. “How’s my girl doing over here?”

“Not your girl right now,” she says shortly. She doesn’t look up to him. She just keeps focusing on weaving the thread in and out of the black fabric. She does see his feet stop in its place, just at the edge of her range of sight. Backstage begins to quiet down a bit.

Harry’s band gathers at the stage door ready to go when they're told to do so. There’s murmurs from the stage crew as they get everything ready. Aurora takes a deep breath to try and calm the shakiness in her hands.

“Ror, why’re you shaking?” Harry whispers. Aurora hears the click of Helene’s camera.

“Trying to fix your pants, less than 10 minutes till the show,” she answers quickly.

“I can go on stage late, it’s fine. Take your time, love.”

“Harry, please, I’m not your girl right now, I'm not ‘love’, I’m trying to do my job. Just let me fix these, I’ll call you when they’re ready. Now, go put on your tank and jacket, please.” Aurora isn’t messing around and Harry’s figured that out now.

“Yeah, okay,” he says solemnly. “Pushing start time by 10 minutes!” the stage manager announces instead of giving the 5 minute warning. “Officially, 15 minutes till new start time!

Although Aurora is angry with Harry for ripping his pants in the first place and now pushing back the show to accommodate her she relaxes a bit and her hands calm down.

A few minute pass and when she knots the final stitch she calls for Harry. Standing up from her spot she turns the pants right side out. When she finally looks away from the pants she sees Harry standing in front of her, the top half of his body much more covered than the bottom half.

“Thank you” he whispers to Aurora as he takes his pants from her. “I’m sorry,” he says as he buttons them close. When she meets his eyes she can’t help but smile softly at him. She sighs heavily, weaving the needle that’s still in her hand on the shoulder of her shirt, just like her mom always does.

“Out of all the suits to rip before the show it was the simple black Givency one. Really?” Aurora messes with the collar of his jacket quickly, pulling it so it sits evenly on his shoulders. “Gotta respect me when I’m working okay? I’m here to be your ‘Head of Wardrobe’ first.” Harry nods, understanding. “I know the line is blurry, but when I’m trying to fix your clothes in a timely manner and you’re acting like a spoiled rockstar, you gotta check yourself. I’ll be your girlfriend after the show and we can laugh about how you ripped the entire inside seam of your pants then. Right now, though, I’m annoyed and a little angry. You shouldn’t have been playing ping pong like that in your suit in the first place, but I am not your mother, so, yeah.” Aurora shakes her head.

“I’m sorry,” Harry offers again.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. We’ll figure this out eventually,’ Aurora shrugs. “You’re all set. Good luck,” she says as she pushes him towards the stage door.

“Be my girl for a minute?” Aurora’s eyebrows furrow at the question. “Just want a good luck kiss,” he explains.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Aurora says challengingly.

“You’re not making the line any clearer,” he challenges back.

“Shut up and let me kiss you,” Aurora states as she grabs his face in both of her hands. His hands find a grip on her waist before dipping his head down and meeting their lips lightly. He lets one hand drop, the other smoothing around her waist so he can hold her whole body with the one. He presses another kiss to her lips before he pulls away. He grabs her waist tightly once more and presses a kiss to her cheek.

She watches as the sound manager sets up his in-ear and weaves it through the back of his jacket. Harry adjusts the cords and the piece in his ear quickly and spares a last look at Aurora who’s standing where he left her, arms now crossed against her chest, smiling back at him. He mirrors her bright smile for a quick moment before turning around and disappearing through the doors.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

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joy1579 · 4 years

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Can you expand more on the clumsy MC with Jumin? Because Hi! Guilty here! 😅 I have the coordination of a shoe .One time I almost lost an eye because I was packing groceries on my backpack and I took the sharp package quickly to close to my eye (got a cut on the eyelid instead, luckily), I felt 2 times on the shower, slip on the street and felt in various occasions (and from tall places in 2, one time chasing a cat) I even choke on my own saliva, if I'm still living is just luck I swear!

sure and no worries Hun same i legit managed to crack my glasses while they were on my face. if not for them i swear i’d only have one eye. as i was writing this i asked my friends about things i could add and all i got were “do you remember when you....” so yeah all of this might be based on things I've done.

clumsy MC part 2

jumin

- when you broke your ankle stepping off a curb in heels he got rid of all your heels and made sure he had his arm around your waist ANYTIME there was a curb from then on (his grip makes it legitimately impossible for you to fall)

- when you accidentally maced yourself the one time you went out with your sister, san’s body guards, he decided body guards where non-negotiable that way you didn’t need to carry personal protection

- �� when you fell in the shower there was a 3-week period of showering together (he made it seem like it was something sweet and cute but you knew it was worry)

- he legit does EVERYTHING he can to prevent you from getting hurt

- he encourages yoga because it helps balance and flexibility both of which are supposed to help with clumsiness

- he also read an article about how poor memory and slow response time can affect coordination so he asks if you want to do brain games and memory puzzles together (their actually really fun and it means a consistent date night with jumin so how could you say no)

Yoosung

- when you fell off the weird scooter thing the doctor gave you for your broken ankle he was torn between angry that you where pushing yourself and sad that you where hurt and didn’t ask him for help (he gently scolds you before setting you up in the living room with everything you need and under his watchful eyes)

- when you two are enjoying a vacation and you accidentally tumble into the hotel pool you grab for him on the way down and suddenly both of you are soaked laughing at each other’s soaked and surprised faces until the horror of the situation dawns on you. you dropped your phones (and his glasses) as you fell and now they reside at the bottom of the pool

- when you trip, accidentally spilling the entirety of dinner across the floor and burning yourself in the process he’s rushing too your side only to slip himself and fall as well thankfully NOT burning himself in the process. you two spend the better part of an hour helping each other recover before you return to the kitchen and remember the mess that still needs cleaning

- he doesn’t know how to become less clumsy so mostly he just tries to disaster prove the important stuff protective cases for his lolol figures, computer and phone. shatter proof or plastic dishes things like that

- but most importantly he starts getting fluffy rugs and pillows so if you fall (at home at least) you’ll have a softer landing

- he also gets really REALLY good at first aide he knows all the home remedies (partly thanks to him asking his mom) and starts slowly but surely creating a first aid kit for the both of you

- you start calling him dr. yoosung because he tends to all your bumps and bruises and that makes the poor boi nearly implode the first few times

saeyoung

- when he see’s you slam your hand in his car door by accident you swear you’ve never seen him move so fast. he’s got ice on your hand before you can even feel the pain. you joke saying you thought he’d be more concerned about his car than you but he’s definitely not in a joking mood and he scolds you for even thinking like that he’d give every last one of his cars away for free if it kept you safe

- when rip over one of the cords for his many gadgets consequently almost giving yourself a concussion he saeran and vanderwood spend the rest of the night dedicating themselves to wire management and though saeyoung may never admit it without joking around it does make his tinkering and work much easier

- when you two where having a tickle fight on the bed and you fell off the bed hitting your head on the counter of the bedside table he got you too the hospital in 10 minutes even through the drive normally took 35 minutes he fidgets the entire time you get stitches and it takes a while for you to convince him that 1: he didn’t hurt you it was an accident and 2: you aren’t mad or even hurt that bad you’ve had stitches plenty of times it’s not a big deal

- he may be all fun and jokes sometimes but anytime you get close to ACTUALLY hurting yourself he gets right down to business

- he knows it’s impossible to protect you from everything but if he CAN fix it he will

- if he is even tangentially the cause he has a tendency to fall back into his old habits of pushing you away for your own good so you have to remind him that he’s the only one for you and explain that it probably wasn’t his fault anyway

zen

- when you tumbled off the stage at one of his rehearsals and actually had a concussion he started purposefully positioning himself between you and ledges wether it’s the edge of the stage, sidewalk, or even the bed. thankfully his history with acting and stage performance means he has experience in blocking and being aware of where exactly you are compared to other people so it’s not too hard for him

- when you crack your glasses (while they are in your face) he swears he saw his life flash before his eyes. you point out he wasn’t in danger and he says “i saw YOUR life flash before my eyes jagi!” he thanks the lord for your glasses where their to prevent what would have happened if you had hit your eye! of course he would have loved you anyway and called you his pirate princess. but there’s no way you could fully appreciate his beauty with one eye!

- when he absentmindedly tosses you a water bottle for the first time and you fumble it accidentally soaking your outfit he gives you his signature jacket and apologizes so much you eventually decide to shut him up and the resulting flustered red faced zen truly is a beautiful sight

- he wants to protect you as much as possible but he’s so used to his own grace and athleticism that he forgets you may struggle a bit more

- - still he thinks you’re the cutest person in the whole world and may even think your clumsiness makes you even cuter!

Jaehee

- when you barely managed to catch yourself but not the tray of dirty dishes you were carrying she rushed to make sure you weren’t hurt looking over your hands for cuts from the glass you were scrambling to clean she scolded you for not waiting for her to bring the broom

- when you give yourself a pretty nasty burn while frosting a cake she physically pulled you to the sink to run your burn under cool water. after about a week patching you up she sneaks off to take a legitimate first aide course she wants to do everything by the book perfect when she’s taking care of you.

- the valentine’s day dlc where y’all get locked in the storage room. yeah you accidentally broke that lock several times simply because of how often you tumble into it while trying to juggle boxes.

- she adores how hard you work to make sure you don’t spill drinks or mess up cake decorations

- she’s so confused by how you can have such a steady decorating hand and such shaky balance

- whenever you’re feeling down about messing up something at the cafe because of your clumsiness she kisses your cheek and reminds you that you’re an amazing cook and the only one that can make those cookies that sell out within minutes (it’s a family recipe that you plan to teach her next valentine’s day)

Saeran

- when you fell down the hill in the park he dropped the picnic basket to try and save you thankfully the food was only a little jostled and you were only a little scraped up. he still insisted and cleaning and bandaging your scrapes with the little kit he keeps with him (you’d be insulted but it’s come in handy more times than you’d like to admit)

- when you fall into the rose bush in his garden he completely panics he’s afraid you’ll blame him for how hurt you got because OUCH! you assure him you aren’t angry but you would like some help with all the cuts pricks and thorns. after that he looks into roses without thorns and starts replanting you feel a little guilty until you see how excited he is to plant all the different type of thornless roses he’s found

- when a stranger bumps you accidentally and you lose your balance tumbling down the stairs Saeyoung has to physically restrain him until he hears you sobbing and comes to his senses he rushes you to the doctor and waits anxiously while you get a cast. he swears he’s not crying but there’s a definite wetness to his eyes when he hugs you gently and promises he won’t ever let something that awful happen ever again

- he’s pretty hyper vigilant simply because of his past but the longer you and he are together the more he turns the focus of his hyper vigilance from “don’t upset anyone because abuse” towards “potential trip hazard protect MC”

- there’s not a soul out there that’s as gentle as he is when he’s trying to treat you. he’s mostly self-taught and it’s a lot of home remedies but the actually help a lot

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i-choose-the-danger · 5 years

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A Sensitive Experiment

Author note: I know, it’s been quite some time since I’ve written anything. Life got in the way for a bit. I’m back with new writing. :) This isn’t Trek-related. This fic is BBC Sherlock-related. I love that series dearly and I’ve been missing it. Hopefully y’all like this fic. <3

Summary: Molly Hooper is staying a few days at Baker Street. Sherlock is going through withdrawal from cigs and cases. John won’t let him go back into his addictions, so the consulting detective finds other ways to keep his brain active.

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It had been unusually quiet at 221B Baker Street, despite having a third person spending the past two nights at the flat. Molly Hooper had mentioned a few days prior that an entire stretch of piping under her home needed to be replaced and it could take a few days as her kitchen floor needed to be completely dismantled to reach it. John wouldn't hear of letting Molly stay in some cheap hotel room and he offered for her to stay at Baker Street with them until everything was finished. The temporary changes in routines and the current lack of interesting cases were beginning to aggravate the consulting detective.

Today was proving to be more difficult than expected for Sherlock. He had no cases. He had no cigarettes. He had no nicotine patches. John wouldn't let him anywhere near any other drug. Sherlock sat straight up in his chair by the fireplace. He would normally be pacing around the flat in his pajamas as it was only noon, but felt somewhat uncomfortable doing so with Molly being in the flat and opted for his usual slacks and a dress shirt. Compromising with himself, he also threw on his silk blue dressing gown as an added comfort. Sherlock's legs bounced absent-mindedly as his fingers rapidly tapped against the arms of his chair.

"John..."

"No."

"But I-"

"No."

"I need-"

"NO."

"Bored!"

"No. You've been off cigs for nearly three weeks now and you're doing well. You turned down the last six cases I showed you. You won't let me go get you more patches. You can sit here having a right strop and continue to suffer or you can take one of those cases." John was used having this conversation with Sherlock, but looked apologetically at Molly from the couch over the newspaper he was trying to read. "Sorry about that, he's not usually this bad," he whispered to her.

"He's usually worse," she muttered back.

"You know, I can hear you both," Sherlock grumbled, continuing to fidget in his chair.

Molly had brought some files from work to the flat to keep herself busy and out of the way. She'd even offered Sherlock a look at them to get his mind off needing a new case, but he waved them off. She placed the small pile of folders on the coffee table and walked around it to sit on the couch.

John excused himself and nudged past Molly on his way to the kitchen after standing from the couch, brushing his hand against her side. Molly twitched.

Sherlock's brows knitted as he looked Molly over. "Are you hurt?"

"Beg pardon?" She tensed at his very audible sigh.

"Are. You. Hurt," was his flat reply.

"Not that I know of?" Molly lowered herself to the couch, eying Sherlock cautiously.

"You flinched just now when John put his hand on your side to pass by. And last night you winced when I pushed by you on the staircase in the hallway." His tone was more matter-of-fact than concerned.

Molly tried to sink herself deeper against the back of the couch as two pairs of eyes turned their attention to her. She tensed as John reentered the room.

"You sure? You know you can tell us if something's wrong. Want me to have a look?" John offered.

"Sherlock's just jumpy because you haven't had a new case in days. I'm fine." Molly noticed Sherlock's eyes narrow at her as he took an all-too-familiar thinking position in his chair. "Really," she added, "I promise."

"Even from here, I can see that your pupils have dilated and your breathing has become labored. But the question remains... Why?" Sherlock leaned slightly forward in his chair, resting his elbows against his lap and tenting his fingers against his lips. "Why..." he repeated to himself.

Sherlock's breathing slowed. His expression became blank. The room dissolved around him until he was alone with his thoughts in his mind palace. Different interactions with Molly played in quick rotation through his thoughts. There were different moments in hospital hallways, brief flashes of discussions in the morgue, the last Christmas party in the flat... Wait. A flash of movement caught his mind's eye. Sherlock concentrated harder and pushed his focus through to something in the background of the Christmas party. Mrs. Hudson was fawning over Molly's hair, which was done up quite differently from her normal pulled-back style. A stray tendril had fallen loose and Mrs. Hudson reached up to tuck it back behind Molly's ear. As she did so, Sherlock noticed Molly flinch and huff out a short breath. There was a twitch so slight in her lips that anyone else would have missed it. Sherlock misinterpreted her reaction to him on the stairs as a wince. It was a smile. She laughed. But why would she laugh when I...

"Oh!" Sherlock snapped his eyes open and looked straight forward. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his right leg pointedly over his left and relaxing his arms. "I see. You're right."

"I, I am? Hmmph, of course I am." Molly eyed him curiously for a moment, and then felt her stomach drop when she noticed the brightness in his eyes usually reserved for the first moment of a new case for the consulting detective.

"Yes. You're not hurt. You're ticklish. The question is no longer why. It's where. Or more precisely, where else." Sherlock narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze on Molly, studying her reaction and body language. "You've not protested my conclusion, so your silence tells me that my deduction is valid. We've already established that this particular susceptibility can be attributed to your sides, possibly around your ribs. I know it includes your neck. Hmm, that must be quite a bad spot then," Sherlock stated, noting how tightly Molly's shoulders hunched at merely a mention of her neck.

"John, he's gone mad. Please do something," Molly pleaded.

"Best not," Sherlock interjected. "I doubt very much that Mrs. Hudson would be happy with you making me choose to remedy my boredom by further riddling her walls with bullet holes, John."

Watson stared for a moment, pursing his lips at the thought of being blamed. He shrugged at Molly from the kitchen doorway. "Sorry. Wouldn't dream of upsetting Mrs. H. It's also much safer than having this one open fire like a lunatic on the defenseless wall, again," he replied. That comment gained him a cold glare from his flatmate.

"Now then..." Sherlock turned his attention back to Molly and studied her. She was rubbing her palms against the tops of the knees of her pants and fidgeting with the material. "The more people try to hide, the more they actually give away." Her knees were definitely a spot. Molly's upper arms were pressed tightly at her sides, protecting her ribs still. He'd already realized that area was sensitive, but it must be much more so than he noticed if she was still trying to cover herself there.

"Why don't I go out and get you some patches? Or food. Or something. Anything." Molly tried to keep as still as possible so Sherlock would stop trying to make deductions. The way he stared at her made her feel as if she'd eaten a dozen butterflies and they were viciously fluttering in her stomach. This was mostly because she was ridiculously ticklish and the thought of someone taking advantage of that trait gave her chills. However, she'd be lying if she said that it wasn't also because Sherlock had never paid so much attention to her before. She liked that much more than she was willing to admit. Without thinking, she started scraping the soles of her tennis shoes against each other.

"Hmm, seems like you have the most common spots. There might be one or two that you're hiding. Let's see what I got right, shall we?" Sherlock pushed himself into a standing position and took a step towards the couch.

"Wait, what? What're you doing? Stay over there. I mean it." Molly stood slowly, trying not to make sudden movements as Sherlock took another step towards her. The butterflies in her stomach flapped their wings with the force of a hurricane.

"Surely someone of your intelligence understands how the scientific method works, Molly. My hypotheses are meaningless if I do not test them out." He spidered the fingers of both of his hands in the air at the word 'test', smirking when Molly reacted to the movement by nearly folding in on herself with a giggle. "Oh dear. Pavlovian conditioning. You must be more sensitive than I thought if you react before I'm even near you."

Molly tried to scramble to the front door, or the hallway, or the kitchen... she wasn't sure where, but Sherlock's long legs had him blocking her path to safety in three short strides. Molly backed up to go around the right side of the coffee table, Sherlock countered her and went around to his left. John leaned against his armchair with his arms folded across his chest, amused at the scene before him. He didn't know what had gotten into Sherlock, but he wasn't about to interrupt it either.

Molly and Sherlock continued their delicate dance around the coffee table for another moment or so. Then in one fluid motion, Sherlock stepped onto the table and over it, holding out an arm to take Molly backwards onto the couch as he turned himself to land beside her. Molly let out a quiet squeak as her back hit into Sherlock's shoulder. She immediately tried to run but the long arm that circled her waist and arms was quicker.

"Now, how to proceed... What do you think would be the most efficient way of testing, John?" The detective looked to John with his brows raised.

"Oh no. I'll have no part of this. I'm just a bystander. This bit of nonsense is between the two of you." In truth, John was curious to watch the scene unfold before him. He also did not want to stray too far in case things got out of hand. It was fascinating to see Sherlock acting like a normal human being and showing the tiniest hint of intimacy towards someone, but John wouldn't dare vocalize that thought for fear of sending him right back behind his protective walls.

"Hmm, I suppose I can start... here." Sherlock took the index finger of his free hand and lightly traced the side of Molly's neck, the corner of his mouth curling upwards when he heard a small squeal and his finger became clamped between her ear and shoulder. He bent the tip of his finger back and forth as much as he could where it was trapped.

"No no noho noho no." Molly tried to squeeze the offending finger between her ear and shoulder enough to stop it from brushing her neck. She summoned every ounce of will power she had to silence her giggles. The last thing she wanted to do was give that smug bastard any sense of satisfaction as he continued his 'experiment'. Molly shut her eyes and tensed every muscle she could control to block out the ticklish shivers that were shooting down her spine.

"I wonder. We know you're susceptible to a brushing touch here, but does it wield the same results elsewhere?" Sherlock asked. He slid his fingers across her side gently, causing her to let out another squeak and struggle in his hold. "Or would a more pressured touch do?"

The next sounds echoing through the flat were Molly's shriek and high-pitched giggles as the fingers of Sherlock's hand around her repeatedly scrunched against her right ribs. Molly let go of his captive finger and tried to turn her face away from him so he wouldn't see her laughing while her arms tried to wriggle free.

"Interesting. A lighter touch against your neck causes more of a response, yet a firmer touch here causes an even stronger reaction. It also seems to correlate with the varying size of known nerve clusters throughout the human body." Sherlock paused for a moment to regain his grip on a very squirmy Molly who was trying to escape the fingers that were now skittering her side. "Now where else do those clusters tend to be? I think another usual one is around here somewhere." Sherlock wrapped the middle finger and thumb of his free hand right above the joint of Molly's knee and gave it a few light squeezes.

"EEEK! Sherlohohohock!" Molly crossed her other leg over to knock his hand out of the way and only succeeded in giving Sherlock another knee joint to test. She squealed as he quickly let go of one kneecap and attacked the other. "John, hehehehelp!"

"You know what? I think I need tea. Anyone want tea? Right. I'm gonna make tea." John straightened up from his chair, nervously clearing his throat, and promptly strode to the kitchen as he avoided Molly's eyes. He turned his head back towards the couch and looked at his flatmate for a moment. "Don't kill her, Sherlock. I'm in no mood to bury a body today, even for you." The doctor disappeared into the kitchen to focus on making tea. He probably should have stopped the 'experiment', but he was honestly more content with Sherlock keeping himself occupied instead of stomping around the flat or stabbing knives into the mantlepiece or tearing the rooms apart looking for the cigarettes John had hidden from him.

"Jehehesus, Sherlock, it tihihihickles! Oh my God!" At this point, Molly was sure that this would kill her. Her cheeks were hurting from laughing so much. She would never admit this to anyone, but she was loving such a close and carefree interaction with Sherlock despite the fact that the man was tickling her completely senseless.

"Does it? I couldn't tell through all of this giggling and squirming around that you insist upon doing." He paused his movements for a moment to allow Molly to catch her breath before posing one last question. "Your ribs seem to be most vulnerable. But what happens if both sides are tested at once?" He let go of Molly and immediately attached his hands to her sides. His skilled violinist fingers strummed against her ribs as if her laughter was the most beautiful melody he had ever played. After a few seconds of testing different methods and varying pressures, he settled on spreading his fingers across Molly's upper ribs and spidering them in different patterns.

"AAAH! You're the worhurhurhurhurst!" Molly immediately melted into a curled-up heap with her head now resting against Sherlock's leg. She weakly swatted at one of his hands, unable to speak a word through her continued laughter. Thankfully, he understood that she had reached her limit. Molly felt his hands stop and let her go, even though the ticklish feelings continued to linger all over her skin. "Absolute. Worst," she whispered between gasping breaths.

"I agree. I'm usually much more thorough in my experiments. Definitely not at my best this afternoon, I'm afraid." Sherlock made the mistake of looking out the window momentarily and underestimating Molly's resolve...

John was just about to grab the boiled water from the stove when his ears heard a most inhuman noise followed by what sounded to him like a low rumbling giggle. There was no way either of those sounds could have come from Molly. John opened his mouth to call out to the others when he heard it again, this time more stifled. Curiosity getting the better of him, John slowly crept to the doorway and glanced at the couch. His jaw hung in disbelief to what he was witnessing. Sherlock was on his side, facing the backside of the couch and burying his face deep into the cushions. Molly was leaning against him with her hands underneath his dressing gown while trying to avoid all of his flailing limbs. Sherlock kept letting out muffled sounds into the couch, refusing to speak.

"Well, what do we have going on here?" John mused. At first, it looked as if John had walked in on something that should definitely be a private moment... until he distinctly heard a strangled giggle-snort coming from the face that was buried in the couch cushion.

"I'm taking recompense for every single time he's been a complete arse!" Molly told him, never taking her concentrated stare off of Sherlock as her fingers continued their assault against his ribs.

"Oh. So you'll be a while then, I imagine. Yeah?" John couldn't help the smile that slowly crept across his features as Sherlock growled at his joke.

"John, this is no time f--MOLLY! Controhol yourself! Stop ihihi--" Sherlock slammed his lips together in desperation to prevent himself from laughing. He knew that John would never let him live it down if he'd let Molly completely break his concentration over something so childish.

"Oh my God..." John whispered with a chuckle. He was nearly beside himself with an almost embarrassing joy at Sherlock showing signs of anything that would expose him as a vulnerable human being and not the cold unfeeling sociopath Sherlock always claimed to be to him. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't remember ever hearing Sherlock really laugh... unless it was at John's expense.

John took note of Sherlock's waving hands and how he was trying to restrain himself from outright attacking Molly. His movements were just verging on frantic. John stepped closer to the couch and observed the scene. Molly seemed to hold her own, fully determined to break the man curled up on the corner of the couch beside her. She pinched, spidered, poked, and prodded her fingers anywhere she could reach across Sherlock's torso. She knew how he felt about physical contact, but after what she had just endured at his hands, there was no way she would be denied full reciprocation. Sherlock on the other hand was simultaneously swatting at Molly's hands, clamping his arms down at his sides, and keeping his face buried into the couch while only bringing his head up every so often to take a breath. John noticed the movements and wrestled for a moment with thoughts on involving himself in the scuffle. He stood well enough out of Sherlock's line of sight and waved his arms at Molly to gain her attention. Once her eyes met his, John clamped his own arms down and then pointed under them. The gleam he saw in Molly's eyes was almost evil.

"Why are you protecting under your arms, Sherlock? One might think you don't want me to get you there. Let's find out." Molly slid her hands into the hollows under his arms, and the result was even better than either she or John expected.

That was the moment that Sherlock's resolve had started to crumble. He would deny it until the day he died, but he outright shrieked into the couch before biting down on both of his lips in a last ditch effort to keep himself from laughing. He twisted his upper body desperately to counter the unbearably ticklish shocks that Molly's fingers were sending under his arms as he clung on to his last shred of dignity. His shoulders were shaking from the laughter he was holding back. Unable to concentrate, his arms became useless as protection because he could no longer control his movements. Short baritone huffs of laughter bubbled in his throat, fighting to break free. Sherlock shook his head and growled to cover the sound.

"You know you're only making this worse for yourself, being a stubborn little git," John told him. He knew that involving himself at this point would be asking for a whole new world of trouble from Sherlock, but figured that if he could survive actual war, then he could survive the wrath of his flatmate. "Just get it over with and let it out. You know you deserve it after wrecking poor Molly like that." John laughed as the near-exhausted man on the couch gathered enough strength to send him a death-glare with silvery eyes peering out from a now matted mess of curls.

"Piss off, John," were the only words Sherlock spat out quickly before clenching his jaw closed again. Sherlock slowly opened one tightly-shut eye when Molly's fingers suddenly stilled against his underarms. Both of his eyes then widened in panic as he felt another pair of hands wrap around his wrists and pull them above his head. Even though John's face was upside-down above him, he could make out what he took to be a menacing grin. He snapped his attention back in front of him as Molly repositioned herself to pin his lower body on the couch. "Alright, you've both had your laughs now. You can let go, and I'll forgive you and forget this ever happened." Sherlock tried to yank his arms back down and found that John's grip on them was far too tight to be a joke. He attempted to move his legs and realized he was firmly pinned down by the weight Molly was leaning against him. He had never begged for anything in his life, but Sherlock suddenly found himself contemplating such an action.

"Oh no, the problem is that you haven't had your laughs yet. I think we might be able to remedy that now," Molly told him. She hovered her hands above Sherlock's chest and flexed her fingers, grinning as she noticed Sherlock's mouth momentarily quiver into a panicked smile and hold back a laugh. "Look at that, a Pavlovian response... Now who's over-sensitive?"

The second Molly's fingers connected with his ribs, Sherlock lost all composure and laughed freely. The sounds ranged from baritone barks to squawks to giggles that traveled between three different octaves.

"Let gohohoho of meheeheehee! I ca-ha-ha-han't- MOLLY NO!" Sherlock's words were drowned out as his laughter turned delirious. With his wrists still held down, he tried to bury his face into one of his arms.

"Molly..." John looked from Sherlock's face down to Molly and saw that she had moved her hands to taser into the spaces between his hips and lower ribs. "You might want to ease up a bit. That seems to be his worst spot so far."

"You know your lunch had that funny taste to it yesterday because he put that open jar of decaying lung tissue next to it in the fridge, right?" Molly stated nonchalantly, never slowing in her torture of the detective's ribs.

"He what?! You absolute cock! That does it." John threw caution to the wind and pulled Sherlock's thin wrists into one hand. Despite his victim's distressed struggles, John started digging the fingers of his other hand into any ticklish spot he could reach. Realizing that Sherlock was now too weak to even fight back, John let go of his wrists completely and spidered his fingers into both sides of his upper ribs. Molly continued scratching above his hips. At this point, Sherlock felt more embarrassed at his lack of control and chose to focus on covering his face completely with his arms. "For someone as smart as you, that's not a smart way to protect yourself now, is it?" John took the opportunity and went back to concentrating under Sherlock's arms.

"AHAHAHAHA! Dahahahamn it, John!" Sherlock curled in on himself and tried to block the four hands that were coming at him from all angles. He continued to giggle, laugh, snort, and squeal. Molly drilled her thumbs right above his hip bones, causing him to buck and arch his back. The sound that came out of his mouth was a mix of a laugh, a scream, and a sound one might hear if they stepped on a cat's tail. "I can't! No mohohohore! Ahahahaha enough! Eheeheeheenough!"

Once Sherlock's laughter started to become silent, John backed off and motioned to Molly to do the same. They pulled their hands away and put enough distance between their bodies and his to allow him to calm down. Sherlock laid his head back over the armrest of the couch. One of his arms dropped behind his head and hung off the armrest as his other simultaneously slipped off of his face and slid down to brush across the floor. His hands were shaking as his nerves began to relax. His usually pale complexion was now dusted a dark rose and glistening with sweat, his eyes partially covered by the curly hair matted across his forehead. Sherlock tried to speak, but he was still giggling and heaving breaths as his lungs fought for much-needed oxygen. His white dress shirt was damp and wrinkled in places, his dressing gown half-twisted around his upper body.

"Aww, look at him. He's completely ruined, John. Do you think we were too rough on him?" Sherlock was staring at Molly through half-open eyes, silently pulling for sympathy.

"Don't let those fake puppy eyes fool you. He tickled you to absolute pieces. And I ate soup apparently flavored by bloody cadaver bits! I'd say he deserves another round or two." At that statement, the body sprawled on the couch twitched at the thought. John rolled his eyes and held his hands up in a surrendering pose. "Don't worry. Unlike you, neither of us are that cruel. Maybe if you stop acting like such an arse, we won't tell anyone what happened... except maybe Lestrade. I'm sure he'd get a kick out of the image," John joked.

"I loathe you both," Sherlock croaked out half-heartedly. His voice was hoarse. He slowly brought both arms to his chest and turned his body to face the back of the couch again, straightening out his dressing gown and pulling it around himself like a protective cocoon. "If word ever leaves this room, even Mycroft's best men will never find your bodies."

"Oh yes, I'm shaking in my trainers," John scoffed. He made his way to the kitchen to reheat the water he had abandoned on the stove.

Without thinking, Molly leaned towards Sherlock, and lightly brushed fingers across his forehead to sweep the dark fallen curls away from his eyes. Her hand lingered against his temple. She watched him slowly crack one eye open, its iris now a pale blueish-green in the light. Worried that she had invaded his personal space far too much in one day, Molly began to pull her hand back... until Sherlock leaned further against it and closed his eye. Very lightly, she brushed her thumb over his brow bone and slipped her fingers into his hair. She watched the rise and fall of his chest slow to a normal rhythm. Still worried that Sherlock would revert to his usual closed-off self, she took back her hand and straightened up against the other end of the couch. Looking down at her lap while rubbing the hem of her shirt between her fingers, she didn't notice Sherlock watching her. Confusion was a feeling that he hated to have, but it was different this time. He had never let someone get this close to him, physically, mentally, or emotionally. Not even 'the woman', Irene Adler, had such a privilege. Something was different with Molly and he didn't understand it. Sherlock would have to revisit these thoughts at a later time when he wasn't trying to recover from the torture Molly and John just put him through. Oh, revenge would be had. He understood why Molly had gone after him, but John should have known better than to start something Sherlock would ultimately finish.

"You know, Molly... isn't it usual practice to do systematic observation of at least three test subjects?" Sherlock asked, loudly enough to be sure his voice carried to the kitchen. He grinned at the sound of rattling teacups.

John Watson would take today as a lesson learned to never go against Sherlock Holmes.

#BBC Sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #John Watson #Molly Hooper #ticklish!Sherlock #ticklish!Molly #tickle fic #tickling #Sherlolly

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steve0discusses · 5 years

Text

Yugioh Ep 24 S3: Blimp’s Ultimate Form

So, I realized as I sat down to the blog today that I’ve been doing this for like...a year and half now? I think? So I figured...how many of these have I MADE? Cuz I thought...I MUST be getting close to the 100th recap pretty soon, and guys, the answer was shocking.

This is, in fact, the 121st recap (including Season 0). That is a LOT of content. I don’t think I have that many pages for my own webcomic (which basically only tells you how long and physically exhausting the drawing process is more than anything else). Along the way I realized I was a.) really bad at numbering episodes, and b.) reaaaaally bad at spelling Kaiba at the start of this series, really cringey how I used to spell everyone’s name, I can’t really look back there.

Anyway, in case you are curious, the 100th episode was the “Pharaoh turns Karibo into a rainbow for some reason” episode. So, unfortunately it wasn’t that extraordinary. I forgot to write down which episode was 69, which is a colossal failure on my part.

So that being said, this is the last episode of this arc! Honestly, this arc could’ve been a lot shorter because at this point the only resolution left is for Noah to be a decent person once in his life and for Kaiba Sr. to die (which he’s already done, so...mission already accomplished)

Noah recently came on the PA system to inform us that he accidentally decided to kill everyone (congrats, recently reformed Noah), and so he’s going to do the decent thing and let them know where the exit is without actually doing a damn thing to make a portal to get them to said exit.

Guess where the exit is?

I don’t know why the hell this show keeps going back to the local Dave and Busters where Tea got attacked on a dance machine.

At this moment, Gozaburo decided to turn into some sort of giant red ghost devil.

Yes. Exactly what it sounds like.

Apparently this was a thing he could just do this entire arc.

(read more after the cut)

The fact that Seto’s Dad can just morph into a giant red demon is like...not even a problem for anyone on this cast. He literally goes back to his side of the field and goes right back to playing cards. Cuz youknow. Cards.

It’s basically a "Anyone with a millennium item can shoot lasers but never actually does” but demon format. Gozaburo *could* turn into the hulk but like...why?

Meanwhile the rest of the cast are playing cards against the card monsters, that are really just 3D models that Gozaburo had on file. He could have used...literally anything to throw at these people and he went with cards. He could have just dropped a boat on them but...I dunno, maybe he didn’t know where the boat folder was.

Yugi trying really hard to not acknowledge the annoying as hell Joey face and give it any more attention than it already has.

Tea and Serenity scramble to the exit largely unscathed, dragging Tristan with them because he is too small to hold a card hologram and is too monkey to be at all useful back on the front lines.

And they just wake up. Just like that. Just like they woke up from a simple nap or something.

And voila, Tristan is no longer a monkey, his brain is back to normal, the writers were like “we really have to focus on Noah right now, please forgive us if we just pretend line all that brain damage Tristan went through, his brain being 5 DIFFERENT PEOPLE at the same time, having his brainwaves turned into an actual monkey, and then back again within the space of a few hours- just pretend he’s fine now.

It’s fine. Tristan’s fine.

Tristan wasn’t really...all that bright to begin with so...he’s fine.

And so, as our B team is getting back into the real world, Noah sees this little post-it note on the side of his computer that says “PS, Yugi is a main character and must be present for the finale although he will serve little purpose there” and so Noah pressed that intercom mic button to say:

And it’s at this point that Noah says “I’ll just make you a portal and warp you right there” and then I guess everyone standing around Noah kind of looked at eachother and was like “NOW you do that? NOW? AFTER the chase through the monster copy-paste factory?”

The show is desperately trying to convince me that Noah is now fully a good brother but ehhhhh he’s not. Like, I’ll be honest, they give him the best send off they could have possibly given to such an irredeemably evil character. Like, Seto himself is such a bag of pistachios that you really have to stretch Noah pretty far into evil territory to make Seto look like the good guy in comparison, and it sort of made me not really buy this whole Noah redemption arc.

It’s more like a prequel to a redemption arc that apparently won’t even happen in this series of Yugioh. He comes back at some point, and I only know that because I had to do a google image search of this kid for some reason and it was like ah, yeah, this is definitely a screen cap of a later, glossier looking Yugioh. But, for now, I’d say that Noah’s arc isn’t so much about him coming closer to his family or turning towards the ‘light’, as Pharaoh put it last episode. It’s more about Noah finally letting go of his Father, which should have been the arc of Seto Kaiba.

Instead, Seto did absolutely nothing to let go of his Dad, to the point that Seto is now fighting a computer that just kind of looks like his Dad during a missile strike aimed at Seto’s own face, and Seto did not stop till he won, because of his own damn pride.

Like I think I mentioned this in the last recap, but if they wanted to have Seto show any changes in this arc (which he hasn’t done) then he should have walked away. Instead, he’s very clearly still using his past trauma to fuel the obsessive reasons why he’s playing cards in the present.

Oh, and PS, Yugi’s here, I don’t know why he is, but it does make for some good scenery shots for the commercials so you know, why not.

Gozaburo decides it’s about time to turn into a 50 ft rage monster, and he pushes them to a ledge. Ah, dangerous ledge trope, it’s been a while.

And, finally, as was hinted basically since S1, Yugi gets Seto to jump directly off a ledge of a very tall structure. It finally happened.

Don’t think about it.

And into a portal? That gets them to the exit? Like y’all...this is a kid’s show and all so I shouldn’t question any very convenient plot devices but like...what?

Anyways, they’re fine now, don’t worry about it.

And so, now for a brother pow-wow between Mokuba, who is either still very, very much in Stockholm Syndrome Territory or maybe just doesn’t know that Noah dropped a rocket on his face while Moki was AFK.

And so Noah walks off into the fog cloud because he is the only person on this entire show who would rather die than share a brain (and you know Moki would’ve been down. Moki/Noah as the next Yugi/Pharaoh could’ve been a great thing but youknow, also very much way too complicated for this already complicated show).

It was very melodramatic.

And TBH, I will miss Noah a little bit, he had a fun, insane sort of snobby sass, but I can understand why they might not want to keep even more villains around on this show that is already like...dozens of villains, just so many villains.

Anyway, remember that they woke up in a lab and not in a blimp, so they still have to like...get off this damn boat.

Lol nearly forgot this was an anime. Glad Noah got a magic girl moment before he kicked it.

Also, I’m pretty sure it was shirtless Noah in this glowing yellow farmer’s tan that got this episode flagged for Adult Content when it was still in my drafts folder. Tumblr’s bot got super excited to shut this one way down lol.

And then what follows is like one of the best animated loops in Yugioh. One so good that you bet your ass I clipped it to view for my own leisure.

Mokuba, sensing he’s slowing down for no reason makes the mistake of telling his brother “I’m not going to make it” and so, as an unsuspecting Duke Devlin reaches out and says “grab my hand,” Kaiba does...THIS

when the entire time Kaiba was strong enough and had enough jumps to do THIS

Like he could have easily picked up Mokuba but youknow, any chance to throw a kid at Duke Devlin’s face shoe-first, I guess.

Maybe this is why Moki wears a puffy vest?

And so it was here, as the flames encroach on my wonderful blimp baby that I was getting ready to say goodbye, but guess what, she ain’t dead because...of a completely insane reason we’ll get to in a bit.

Oh, and PS Kaiba’s Dad is a flame monster now. Because of...technology?

It’s probably supposed to be metaphorical flames but youknow, apparently Kaiba had the foresight that someone at some point would become a flame demon and try to devour his entire blimp, and so he made a feature you can add onto what ever blimp you decide to buy from him just so you can outrun fire people attacks.

And it turns out Blimp was the real Magical Girl all along.

Blimp lore is getting pretty wild y’all.

Imagine playing cards on it now...

And then everyone collectively decided that Noah WASN’T DEAD. It was very unhealthy! Thanks 4Kids!

The irony about this exchange is that it is Bakura who is the one who’s uploaded to a flash drive, not Noah--Bakura is on a flash drive around Yugi’s neck but they have never discussed this. Like I’m pretty sure no one even has still picked up that Bakura died and that’s going to be the thing I look forward to the most next episode. If they even address it. Which they might not.

And so, Kaiba looks at the wreckage and the rocket parts that he now has to explain to the UN (and probably not for the first time) and he says:

And thus ends the Kaiba’s Kojima-esque War Crimes arc.

Oh man, next time we get to go back to Marik.

Man oh man.

I don’t even REMEMBER what was going on in that arc guys. It’s been like...man.

I might have to read my own blog to refresh myself haha, I honestly have forgotten a lot of details.

Anyway, in memory of when the blimp still looked like a blimp, I guess this is the last time I can ever post this song:

youtube

And here’s a link to read these recaps from the beginning in chrono-order

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spooky-scary-imagines · 5 years

Note

Just poppin in to say that Chop Top story was 👌 and I’d love to hear a continuation. He’s gotten himself and the reader into quite a mess considering how Drayton reacted to Bubba and Stretch, and now you’ve got me all curious about how they’re gonna get out of it.

((You are very correct. Meeting the family on the first date? Lord knows what he was thinking. AND GUESS WHAT! I saved this bad boy so it’s my 69th post. *smacks lips and looks at the camera* Noice. It’s what Chop would have wanted. Also, I am trying my best to stick to the canon story-line like I did in the first part but like…the canon story-line as is does not allow much wiggle room. I’ve cranked the forced 70’s slang up to 11 so I hope the context clues work. ;P Also, it’s pretty much canon that Chop only listens to shitty “experimental” prog-rock. In any-case, thanks so much to all of y’all who’ve encouraged me to write the sequel as well as write in general. Your support means a lot to me. TW For Drayton being…the way that he is. Most of his dialogue is straight from the script but if that’s upsetting feel free to skip this one. Tagging: @i-cant-get-with-it

From outside, the abandoned theme park was just an empty husk of long-forgotten family trips and worn plastic over a warped metal skeleton. Inside however, the old Texas Battle Land had found a second life as home to some of the most wanted people in Texas. When the youngest members of the Sawyer clan arrived home, it was just as they had left it. Fluorescent lights casting a dull glow over the filthy environment, made even more unpleasant by the ever-present smell of decayed flesh and dried blood.

As they carried the bodies they’d gotten earlier inside, the older of the two stopped his brother before they entered the threshold. “H-Hey Bubba, I, uh, I’m just gonna take this one alright?” he asked, gesturing to the body whose head wasn’t a gross mess of blood and pulp. The younger, Bubba, looked at his brother curiously, and while it was impossible to tell from beneath the mask, his eyes conveyed that he definitely was raising an eyebrow at this behavior. Chop-Top fidgeted under his gaze, “I-I g-got a, er, project I wanna do with it.” Bubba just shook his head and shrugged the limp body off his shoulders, into his brothers arms. He grinned up at Bubba and turned to walk away before quickly whipping back. “W-Wait!” he held onto Bubba’s arm, “Don’t-Don’t tell Drayton about this one, ya dig? He’s joanin’ on us enough already.” Bubba nodded solemnly and he and Chop parted ways down into the labyrinthine tunnels.

…

When you finally woke up, you had no clue where you were. Your first instinct was t scream but you held it back as you tried to analyze your situation. The room was dark and looked like the inside of the Devil’s Shaggin’ Wagon. The walls were lined in colorful, yet dingy carpets and miscellaneous oddities, ranging from bones, to old and blurry Polaroids, to worn and torn band posters, and age-bleached centerfolds of woman and men, naked as they day they were born. After quickly taking in your surroundings, you groggily moved to stand up, but were cut short as you finally took notice of the rope tying you arms and legs to the chair you sat in. You instantly wanted to panic, memories of what happened suddenly flooding back. But you knew that, whoever these people were, you were at their mercy, and it was in your own best interest to just try and play along. Just thinking like that was frying you, but you had to keep it together, or you didn’t have a chance

.After what felt like ages of waiting for a bomb to go off, the door directly across from you opened up to reveal the pale face of the man from the radio station. His glasses and wig were gone revealing an exposed metal plate embedded into his skull, the edges where it met skin were raw and torn, indicating they had not been allowed to heal. He turned to you, and when his eyes met yours his face lit up. “Y-You’re awake! I-uh, well, groovy!” he said, scrambling over to you. He sat beside you, and started messing with your still-trapped hand, picking at the skin and bringing it to his face. If you remembered right, this man mostly responded nicely to you, so he was probably your best option.

“Um, hey man, not-not that I can’t dig it but-either I’m tripping or you’ve got some ‘splaining to do Lucy.”

The man laughed at that and moved away, crossing the room to a shoddy looking record player. “You-You like At-t-tomic Rooster?” the man asked, though the record was in place before you could answer. Distorted keyboarding and some bitchin’ guitar riffs blared through the tinny speakers as the man bared his teeth in a manic grin. “Th-this one’s called Ger-Gershazer,” at that word, he started giggling to himself. Disappointed, you tried again.

“So is this your pad?”

“Damn straight!” the man yelled before more quietly adding, “Well, I-I don’t live alone…But-But I paid for this place!” He pointed at the metal plate, “What I got for this chrome-dome ‘Nam gave me?”“You…you were in Vietnam?”

The man’s eyes got a weird glint to them and his head whipped back in a loud cackle, “NAAAPALM! FIRE IN THE HOLE! The ole’ AGENT O!” He gripped your shoulders tightly, “It’s the dream baby, Nam Land!” You just stared at him in a mix of shock and horror. Before you could respond, from somewhere outside the door, you could make out the sound of a someone yelling. The man’s eyes narrowed and whipped towards the door. “Just-Just w-wait here. Don’t bug out on me now,” he said before bolting out the door. You didn’t bother to mention that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, well, of course you wanted to, it’s just…it doesn’t matter. There’s certainly nothing you can do right now. Worry about your apparent susceptibility to Stockholm Syndrome later.

When the trippy hippie finally returned, he wasn’t alone. “Hey sunshine, he crooned, seemingly having gotten over whatever caused him to freak-out last time, “I got someone I want you to meet…” He gestured to the other person revealing a gnarled old corpse wearing a camo army jacket, and you bit back a scream. The thing was on the rough side of decomposition and looked like a prop from the guy who did Dead of Night. The man broke into a near falsetto and reached the corpses hand out as if it were a puppet, “H-Hi my name’s Nubbins! You’re-You’re a r-r-real f-fox.” Despite the horror of the whole situation, you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. The man swatted at the corpse and turned to you, with a noticeable pink to his cheeks that wasn’t there before, “J-Just ignore m-my brother. He’s a j-jelly brain.

You decided not to address the obvious taxidermied elephant in the room, “So you two are brothers?”

“Yeah. We’re twins! But I got the good looks.” the man argued. Given the state of the other one, you’d have to agree. “Ya see those pictures on the wall?” You nodded. “Nubbins is the one who took them. He always liked artsy stuff…” he drifted off, lost in thought or perhaps memories, of a happier time you couldn’t picture. You were about to offer some comfort when the door slammed open, revealing the giant from before. “DON’T YOU EVER KNOCK!” the smaller man shrieked, leaping up to try and block the other from you. You heard the masked man mumble indignantly. “SO WHAT IF I DON’T USUALLY CARE!” Despite the hippie’s best efforts the large man pushed past him and was struck dumb when he saw you. He turned to the other and yanked him off to a somewhat separate part of the room. While you couldn’t tell what all they were saying, you could tell it was a heated argument. Before they could return to you, the yelling voice from earlier called for them both and you were left alone again.

…

Drayton was on one again, this time, he was convinced that there was some intruder in the house and had been yelling at the two of them to FIND THEM DAMN IT. Finally Chop-Top and Drayton caught up to where Bubba had some girl cornered at the end of a tunnel. It wasn’t surprising to find a cave-in or a dead-end and end up lost for hours. “What the hell’s going on here?” Drayton looked from Bubba to the young woman, confused and angry, “Bubba, you nap-haired idiot. Get out of here. Who’s this? I get it. Are you the saboteur that’s fucking up our house? Tryin’ to put me out of business? Thousands of dollars lost. You got that kind of money?” “No!” the woman finally responded, and Chop-Top finally recognized that voice.

“It’s the DJ. My faaaaave.”

“That dirty thing?” Drayton sneered, “Told me you boys got her!”

“Well, yeah,” Chop butted in, “Leatherface killed her once already tonight. But look, she’s red-faced. Bubba’s been playing with her. Bubba likes her!” With a exaggerated gasp, he broke into an obnoxious chant, “Bubba’s got a girlfriend. Bubba’s got a girlfriend! Bubba’s got a girlfriend! Bubba’s got a girlfriend!Bubba’s got a girlfriend! Bubba’s got a girl-BLEAH” he jumped and erupted into cackles again.

“Is that what this is, Bubba?” Drayton asked, “The old cock-and-cunt swindle, huh? S-C-E-X. Sex. And you had to find out about it, didn’t you? You just couldn’t leave it alone. If you wanted to know about it so bad, why didn’t you ask me? You wanna know about it? Ask me. Ask me! It’s a swindle, that’s all. So don’t get mixed up in it…”

Bubba grunted angrily and pointed to Chop-Top, who had lost his playful expression. “What are you going on about?” Bubba communicated in his own way what he had seen in Chop and Nubbin’s room. “Cheese-eating fink…” Chop-Top mumbled under his breath. Drayton threw his arms in the air, ��Are both of you falling for it! What would Grandpa say!” Bubba hung his head sadly and Chop just rolled his eyes. Drayton sighed, “Alright, Chop-Top, take this one away,” he thumbed towards the DJ and glared at the his second-youngest brother, “Then we’re going to see this little cock-monger of yours!”

…

After a more than awkward first meeting with the eldest of the Sawyer clan in which he called you every name under the sun, you were brought to a large dining table and were sat across from Vanita. She briefly stopped screaming when she saw you and sobbed, realizing the fate she had doomed you and L.G. to. You tried to comfort her but there was only so much you could say over Drayton raggin’ and monologuing his totally square life story. “There’s Grandpa now!” he crowed as the two other Sawyers brought in what appeared to be a decrepit corpse in on a throne like dining chair. As Drayton began rambling again about the man “Grandpa” used to be, you noticed that the thing in the chair wasn’t a corpse at all! “Refracto…” you muttered as you watched the ancient man move, albeit slowly. The man who had captured you, “Chop-Top” you had heard the others call him, kept scrambling around, alternating between taunting Stretch and nuzzling against you. “Get the hammer!” the cook squawked and the hippie scampered off. Drayton ordered them around, yelling to “Just get on with it!” and soon they had a small tub set down in front of the old man.

“Wait, uh,” Chop spoke up, “Maybe we ain’t g-gotta kill ‘em.” He looked nervously back to you, “I mean, at least n-not both of ‘em. Mine ain’t gonna be an-any trouble. A-And I’m the one bankrollin’ this place! I should decide!”Drayton sneered, “I can’t believe both you shit-heads are gonna pussy-out on me at the last minute. You know the country’s in the shitter when a man can’t even rely on his own family! The plight of the American businessman! Quick fucking around and bring them down!” The two younger brothers looked at each other, neither moving. Slowly, the larger one, Bubba, hung his head and starting walking towards Stretch who started screaming again, pleading for him to let her go. You were too scared to scream and could only watch as Vanita was dragged from her chair and made to bear her head over the bucket at Grandpa’s feet. Chop muttered something into your ear about “Not tripping” and “Just letting him handle it.” But something told you it was gonna take a miracle to get you out of here alive.

That miracle came in the form of a disembodied voice singing “Bringing in the Sheaves.” From your position at the table you couldn’t really make out what was happening, but you could hear Drayton talking to someone, apparently some competition in the catering biz? You heard Stretch pitifully say “Lefty…” Wait, wasn’t Lefty the name of the guy you two were waiting at the station for? Before you could even call out to him, everything exploded into chaos. All you could hear was chainsaws revving and the screams and yelling from the whole family. You saw Stretch run past you into the tunnels, Chop-Top hot on her heels. Bubba was chainsaw-dueling with a guy who looked like a love-child of Sheriff Buford T. Justice and Major Kong. Drayton was nowhere to be seen.

In all the excitement, they seemed to have forgotten about you. You seized your chance to escape, wiggling out of the ropes Chop-Top seemed to have purposely tied a little loose.

You made your way through the seemingly endless tunnels, finally making your way outside. As you finally reached the surface, you realized night had turned to day. Exhausted on all levels, you collapsed inside the metal tunnels leading to the main body of the park. You heard the sound of explosions, chainsaws and screaming in the distance, but they barely seemed to break through the daze you were in. You had no idea how long you sat there, but you were suddenly broken out of your stupor by a gangling shadow looming over you.

You looked up, only to see the grinning mug of that crazy Head you just couldn’t seem to lose. He looked more than worse for wear, blood dripping from his neck and a gaping hole in his abdomen. Despite everything he had put you through, you found yourself still feeling pity for him. “Hey, rock b-bunny,” he crowed weakly, “Figured you’d blown this p-pop-stand.” You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, instead leaning in to look over his wound. He brushed you off, “Don’tcha’ know?” He grinned, “Sawyers are like cockroaches, it’ll take more than a lil’ rough stuff and and a wayward Smokey to take us down. Now c’mon.” He held out a hand to help you up, then started off back towards the park, “Let’s go round up the rest of ‘em.” You took one last glance behind you towards the horizon, your freedom, the rest of the life you had always believed you wanted…then turned back and followed your new life into the caverns. Into his, and now your, hell, or perhaps…heaven.

#chop top sawyer #bubba sawyer #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher imagines #slasher

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echoheart0324 · 5 years

Text

*deep sigh* So...uh...about the November story update...*deep breath*. Damnitallholyshitwhatthefuckisallofthisinformation. I’ll provide my insight into this topic, along with the traitor talk once more (featuring ‘Darkness’ and their bullshit). I’ve been putting this off for so long, so...RIP I suppose.

Warning: Heavy KHUX spoilers will be discussed, featuring my thoughts and speculation. You have been warned. (Also there’s a lot of stretches and lousy evidence, but I wanted to bring this into light...)

Here’s my general opinion right now:

*yells loudly* I don’t think Lauriam’s on our suspect list!!!

Before y’all get a pitchfork and stab me to death until I bleed out or something (I dunno either), hear me out.

I’ll lend you what I got gathered here. It’s a mess, but it’s something, better than nothing.

()()()

For the KHUX story update that occurred during October, a mysterious figure approached the scenes, going by the name ‘Darkness’ (which is stupid. Who thought that name would be a great addition to the game???).

Although I have no experience with the Japanese language, a few Twitter accounts who I was able to stumble across by, were able to provide valuable information. I won’t be providing names, just in case the info’s false.

Anyways, ’Darkness’ has a specific speech pattern that is apparent, exclusively to the JP version. The figure uses the pronoun of ‘ore’, which Marluxia/Lauriam don’t seem to use, where instead they use ‘boku’? Though I think the other guys use ‘ore’. (So in all honesty, I had Lauriam crossed off my list for a while now, but today let it rest to bed.)

Even though I probably look like a Blaine stan (...I never thought I’d say that out loud...I’m never going to say that again...), I’m going to point the finger of blame, as the traitor and murderer of Strelitzia, at...*looks at smudged hand*...Brain. (Wow, what sort of timeline is this where I use his ‘official name’...oh well one step a time to sever bonds I suppose to spare myself the pain) It’s odd, I know, but hear me out.

()()()

*lifts up glasses* So, this is where I get into the nitty gritty, what-the-fuck are you on Echo, speculation things. This is more of a personal-level thing and I know Nomura’s going to do something to catch us off guard with the element of surprise. That’s why we’re going to think like him for a minute.

In all honesty, it could be Ven as the traitor right? I know a lot of people jumped onto this, as soon as Lauriam brought up the whole ‘sister’ thing (with the translations being all iffy. Maybe in a year we’ll find out, who knows). I can definitely see this happening, but I find it quite odd...

I’m aware of the fact that Ven didn’t seem to know what ‘Shift Pride’ was (and his reaction to it was kinda...unnerving). I’ve also already brought this up in the past, but:

(The Union Leaders all come in order, except for Brain and Ven.)

I don’t understand why they’d have everyone else in order, but huh. Something's off.

However, Ven does bring up meeting Master Ava (and I really hope it isn't him) and he was against 'Shift Pride', so I trust him.

()()()

Next up on our list, we have Lauriam. Since the story update for November introduced Elrena/Erlena (oh gosh it’s the Blaine/Brain situation all over again. I dunno what the official team’s gonna go for, but I have a bad habit of sticking with the ‘l’ names, so fuck y’all), we have...quite a batch here. Since the script was being vague and everything, we don’t know exactly who Strelitzia’s older sibling is.

I mean...if it was his own sibling, then Lauriam has to go to the time-out corner for murdering your own family member (if he did do it). If it was Elrena’s relation to Strelitzia, then that’s a different story.

Based off the subtle interactions we got, Lauriam seems to have some sort of relationship to Strelitzia, going to the extent of interacting with another fellow Keyblade wielder for the sake of it. I know it’s probably a far too gap to reach for, but I want to believe that these two are partners working behind the scenes to crack down who the traitor/murderer is.

()()()

This is where I bring up the official art (y’know, like an idiot who analyzes everything).

Interestingly, Ephemera (if you flip the image, he’s leaning to their direction and his eyes are focused over to their direction so shhh it counts), Skuld, Ven, and Lauriam are all looking the same way to the left! Meanwhile, Brain and the hooded figure (which I assume is Elrena) are facing the opposite direction. (I dunno how Chirithy fits in this honestly...so uh...)

This is the stretch of the century (and I’m 99.99% sure I’m wrong), but notice how the hooded figure is slightly looking downwards, their chin down. We can’t see what their eyes are focusing on too well (and I might as well be blind), but it’s possible that Elrena is looking down upon Brain (damn it. Or onto the flower...eh...). Maybe she knows that Brain has something to do with her/Lauriam’s sister’s ‘disappearance’.

To add onto the above further, it’s possible that the others do learn of a traitor in their midst. However, they’re all blinded by their own doubts and beliefs, making them face the wrong culprit. Meanwhile Brain faces the other direction and smiles widely (...I just noticed he's the only one with his mouth open), knowing they’ll assume it’s someone other than himself. (And then Elrena kicks his ass. I dunno.)

()()()

And just for fun, the other day (sometime back in filler hell) I scrambled up Brain’s name and got ‘Binar’. I was curious so I looked it up to see if it meant anything or if there was anything at least related. Well, *slides in* it’s possible that it could also mean ‘binary’ (just remove the ‘y’, just like Ephemer with the word ‘ephemeral’). ‘What the fuck does binary have to do with anything???’ you may ask. Heh...so it was recently confirmed that the Keykids are all linked to the data world, and y’all know what codes for data? Binary numbers...binary code to be more precise! (Maybe he has some sort of extra knowledge of the data in the worlds??? Or he could just be in complete control???)

I really dunno what else to add here, since it’s odd, but it may as well be a coincidence that I picked up on by mistake. Maybe we’ll bring this up again another day, once we have more information at our disposal.

()()()

Read up on this.

If you already read my little mess of speculation on nobility at the bottom of that post, then we’re good!

Anyways, if we follow the idea that Brain is the traitor, then what were his motives in the first place? For crying out loud, he really doesn't seem like he gives a shit about the meetings (as seen below).

Books, huh? Based off of this phrase alone, it's possible that he's looking for something, something related to information and possibly exclusive to the chambers. He's also seen being impatient and hurries to leave once he believes the case is settled, only to be stopped. (Or he just wants to read and avoid social interaction...mood.)

Maybe he wants something more than that. So what is 'nobility'? By definition it's: "the quality of being noble in character, mind, birth, or rank."

I already went over this in the previous post and I brought up that he could be of noble blood, but something most likely went wrong, horribly. Adding to the fact, that his name also means 'son of the judge' and/or 'high/noble'. So why would he have killed Strelitzia off? What could he have gained from that???

*tips hat* I...I'm not too sure either. There's countless possibilities (and we're dealing with Nomura for crying out loud). Besides information, I really don't see what else he can gain.

So how does 'Darkness' fit into this? I'm also not sure either, since we know barely anything of them in the first place. Maybe some undercover...

(I'm too tired and I keep forgetting where I'm trying to go with this...it's driving me nuts.)

()()()

Feel free to add anything, I was kinda in a rush while writing this, so I'm all over the place!

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cheekybabycal · 5 years

Text

Now that I’m Broken

PART FOUR – part one, part two, part three

Rating: 14+

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of abortion, light signs of depression

Warnings: swearing, unwanted pregnancy

Word count: 3.7k

Author’s note: this part... big oof. Y’all better be prepared for some real angst man, I cried while writing this. There’s also a little fluff in there because Calum is the most adorable human okay we can all agree on that. I sincerely hope you enjoy, but be ready for some tears.

Tag list: @calumsfren @it-was-a-lie @bodaciousidiot (comment if you’d like to be added)

For the next few days, Y/N felt trapped. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat, she couldn’t breathe. And Calum noticed. At first, he thought she was still mad at him for coming home tipsy, but when he asked her about it she reassured him that that was not the case and she was completely fine. She wasn’t.

She talked to Aubrey when it was really bad. When she felt like she was going crazy. When she thought Calum had had enough of her and her weird state. And Aubrey would assure her that she’s just paranoid and that she should talk to him. “I think you should tell him,” she would say. “You’ve already told me how worried he is about you. He deserves to know what’s got you so... unstable.”

But Y/N would disagree each time, telling Aubrey that there is no need for Calum to know. She’s not keeping it anyway, why should she worry him?

The day before her appointment, Y/N was a mess. More than usual. She’s just finished reading a magazine when Calum sits down next to her on the couch. He pulls out her earbuds – ones she’s worn just so she can avoid talking to him – and tilts her chin up so she can look at him. “Baby, please,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Talk to me. You’ve been avoiding me all week, barely even looking at me. Did I do something? Are you still mad at me for coming home that night a l’il drunk? If it is-”

“Calum, I already told you,” Y/N cuts him off. “I’m not mad about that. You’re free to have fun, so what you came home a bit tipsy? You know I’m not that kind of girlfriend.” Calum gives her a sad smile and raises his hand to her cheek, thumb caressing the skin under her tired eyes. “Then what is it?” He asks. “You’ve barely eaten anything, and, by the look on your face, have barely slept either. Sweetheart, I’m worried.”

Y/N swallows the lump in her throat as tears start to form in her eyes. She moves away from Calum, sitting up to place the magazine, her phone, and her earbuds on the coffee table. She keeps her gaze on the glossy cover as her tears threaten to spill. She’s so tired. Tired of crying, tired of being scared. She just wants tomorrow to come so her fucking doctor can tell her she’s all set for an abortion.

“Princess,” Calum says, worry clear in his voice. The nickname causes her breath to hitch in her throat, and a tear escapes. “What is it?”

Y/N sighs, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before clearing her throat and answering him. “I... I haven’t been feeling very well lately. I must be coming down with some sort of flu.”

“Is that why you’ve been throwing up?” Calum asks. “I, I didn’t want to say anything before.”

Shit. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed. “Um, yeah. That’s it. I’m sorry if I’ve... I don’t know, made you nervous or whatever.”

“’Nervous or whatever’? Y/N my job is to be here for you. You can’t just shut me out every time you get sick. Truth is, I thought you were going to leave me.” His voice breaks slightly as he finishes his sentence. Her heart hurts. Her everything hurts. She hurt her best friend, the love of her life, by trying not to hurt him. She presses a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. Seeing the tears in his eyes cause hers to spill, and she blinks them away before whispering, “I would never, ever, leave you. Calum Hood, I adore you. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He smiles at her words, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. It’s light and quick, and it carries all of his emotions over to her.

“I adore you, too, love. I’m not going anywhere, whether you shut me out or not.” He says when they pull away. She wants to believe him. Wants to tell him right then and there, that she’s so happy he said that because she’s carrying his baby. But now’s not the time. And she knows that the time won’t be coming soon, so she just stays quiet.

“Wanna watch something?”

“Brooklyn99?” She asks, her voice excited. He laughs and kisses her forehead. “Only if you promise to eat something.”

“If you make it,” she teases. He puts his hands up in defeat and heads to the kitchen, roasting a quick lemon chicken as Y/N gets the show ready. Aubrey was right. Although Y/N didn’t tell him tell him, just talking to him helped the weight on her shoulders. She couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend. Or best friend, for that matter.

For the next few hours, they watch Brooklyn99, eat dinner, and snuggle into each other under a blanket until Y/N falls asleep, her head resting against Calum’s chest as he wraps an arm around her, keeping her close. He falls asleep too, and they stay like that until the morning, wrapped in each other and at peace.

He wakes up before Y/N, gently removing himself from under her and propping a couch pillow under her head. He smiles at her sleeping form, thankful that she was able to rest. He moves around the apartment, cleaning up a bit and preparing breakfast, and she wakes up about an hour later to the amazing scent of eggs, bacon, and freshly brewed coffee. The smell of it all is too good, and she has to throw the blanket off of herself and run to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach. Calum jogs after her, walking into the bathroom shamelessly and helping keep her hair out of the way. Once she’s finished, she flushes the toilet, washes her hands, face, and mouth. Leaning over the sink, she looks at him in the mirror before murmuring, “good morning”.

He chuckles at her disheveled form, coming up behind her and kissing the back of her head. “Good morning, love. I made breakfast, but you don’t seem to be able to keep anything down. Want some water?”

She nods weakly, following him to the kitchen. The smell is still strong, but it doesn’t bother her as much. She sits down next to him, sipping on her water as he eats his breakfast, slowly and bit by bit feeding her pieces of the scrambled eggs he’s prepared. She reminds him that she has the brunch thing with Aubrey today and that she should be heading out soon. He nods, “sure, babe. I’m not going to the studio today. Ashton might come over for a while, though. That’s fine, right?”

She chuckles at him asking for permission. “Of course it’s fine. Have fun.” She kisses his cheek before hopping off the stool. “I’m going to go get ready. Clean up before Ashton comes, okay?”

In her room, Y/N decides on some high waisted jeans and a sweater, and as she stands in front of the mirror, undressed, she can’t help but lower her hands to her stomach. She turns sideways, trying to see if she can identify a sign of a living, breathing thing in her body. She’s not showing yet, not even close, but she wants to feel her baby herself, before a stranger glides over it with a stick and some gel.

“Hey, little devil,” she whispers to her flat abdomen. “This is the first time I’m talking to you, isn’t it? Might be the last time, too. You’ve been really hard on me, you know. I’m not sure we can keep this up.” She presses her palm against the skin in the middle of her abs, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I know you probably can’t hear me yet, and you might not at all, but I wanted to say hi,” choking back a sob, she continues, “I had to... I had to say bye.”

As Y/N finishes getting ready, leaving her hair down and putting on a little bit of lipstick to add brightness to her face, her phone rings. She picks it up, looking at the words ‘Best Friend Brey’ on the screen before sliding to answer Aubrey. As always, Aubrey is perfectly on time, calling Y/N to let her know she’s downstairs. Y/N grabs her purse, making sure to shove in a number of tissues in there – she knows she’ll need them – and heads towards the main door, stopping at the kitchen to kiss Calum goodbye.

“Hey,” Aubrey says cheerfully as her best friend opens the passenger door. “How have you been?”

Y/N shakes her head, chuckling sarcastically. “How do you think?”

Aubrey nods her head, pulling the car out of park and heading towards the main street. “I meant,” she says. “Have you talked to him? Has it helped?” Y/N leans her head back against the chair, sighing before answering. “I did talk to him. Last night. He’s noticed my morning sickness, but he thinks I’ve just gotten the flu or something. You were right, though. He was worried,” Y/N says, her voice low and sad. “he thought... he thought I wanted to break up with him.”

Aubrey’s head turns to Y/N for a split second before turning back to the road. “He what? Oh shit, Y/N, you really took it that far, huh? So, what did you tell him?”

“I said no. That there was no way I was leaving anytime soon. Then he made chicken, and we watched Brooklyn99. And guess what?” Y/N asks, a little excited. Aubrey chuckles, “what?”

“I fell asleep!”

Aubrey bursts out laughing, fingers strumming against the wheel at her friend’s pride in being able to sleep. “Well I’m very proud of you!” Y/N laughs too, and she realizes that she hasn’t genuinely laughed in a while. She turns quiet, her mind returning to the nightmare that is her reality. Her fingers absentmindedly play with the material of her sweater as her thoughts start to drown her again. She can hear Aubrey talking, but the words aren’t registering in her brain, going in one ear and coming out the other.

“Earth to Y/N,” Aubrey calls out, startling Y/N out of thought. “Sorry, what?” she asks Aubrey, her head dizzy. Aubrey shakes her head, “I said, have you thought about... changing your mind? I mean, Calum was scared you were going to leave him, right? So that must say something about how he might react to finding out you’re pregnant.”

Y/N sat up, squaring her shoulder and clearing her throat before responding, her voice firm. “Aubrey, I have not thought about it because I will not change my mind. We aren’t ready for this baby. And so, there is no need for me to tell him.”

“But Y/N, he has the right to know. This is his child, too, you can’t just make the decision to terminate without asking his opinion first.” Aubrey says, growing frustrated. “I don’t want to tell you what to do but seriously, this is kinda unfair.”

“Unfair?” Y/N asks. “Aubrey, unfair is getting into an argument with your sibling and your parents taking their side. Unfair is your teacher taking marks off your test because she thought you cheated but you didn’t. Unfair is not a human coming into a world that’s not ready for it.”

The rest of the ride is quiet, neither of the girls speaking to each other. The tension between them is almost unbearable until finally, finally, they reach the doctors’ office. Aubrey pulls the car into a stop, parking it quickly. She turns to Y/N, who’s still looking out the window. “Hey, hon,” she says, gently touching her shoulder. “I know this is all overwhelming, but I need you to know that just because I don’t always agree with you doesn’t mean I don’t support you. Y/N I will always support you.”

Y/N turns to her friend, smiling and nodding her head. “I know, Brey. And I’m so grateful to have you in my life. It’s just... this is– it’s different, okay?”

“I know,” Aubrey agrees. “Now let’s go see this baby of yours.”

After waiting for what seemed like forever, Dr. Willis’s secretary finally calls Y/N’s name and leads her and Aubrey to the room in which the doctor would meet them. And sure enough, a middle-aged, blonde haired woman walks into the room a few minutes later. “Miss Y/L/N, correct?” she asks, a kind smile on her face.

Y/N stands up, stepping forward to shake her doctor’s hand. “Y/N is fine, and yes. Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice to meet you too, Y/N. Now, do you know why you’re here?”

Y/N nods her head, her gaze falls to her shoes as she answers, “yes. I’m pregnant.”

Dr. Willis places her clipboard on her desk. “Right, well that’s a good start. Some patients only come in because they think they’re pregnant and need me to check for them.” She laughs, shaking her head before continuing. “Now, you took home pregnancy tests, correct? And they came back positive. So this must be a checkup appointment.”

“I, um... I don’t think I’m going to keep it, doctor.” Y/N says, her voice breaking. “I can’t...” she clears her throat and tries again. “I’m not...”

Thankfully, Aubrey steps in. “Dr. Willis, my friend has her mind pretty much set for abortion. I told her to wait until she checked if everything was fine, and then make her final decision.”

“Well I’d say that’s great advice,” the doctor approves. “Okay Y/N, if you would please sit on the chair right here... actually, lie down on it. Perfect!” She continues, helping Y/N into the right position. “Great, now if you would lift up your sweater, yup! Oh, and just undo the button of your jeans. That should do it. You’re already my favourite patient.”

Aubrey and Y/N chuckle. The doctor is kind and very energetic, and Y/N isn’t sure if this is making her more nervous or actually relaxing her. She feels strange and, of course, very, very anxious. She’s about to see her baby.

The realization hits her like a truck, and her hands start trembling. She doesn’t even have a minute to catch her breath as Dr. Willis turns back around to face her, a bottle of the special gel in her hand. She pumps some directly on Y/N’s abdomen, the coolness of it sending goosebumps throughout her body, and she shivers. “It’s cold, huh?” Dr. Willis chuckles. As she prepares the ultrasound screen and the transducer, Y/N notices Aubrey take out her phone and start recording the process.

“Uh, what are you doing, Aubrey?” she asks her friend, raising her head up from the chair, confusion evident on her face

Aubrey shrugs, “I feel like you’re gonna want to see this later. You know, when you’re not super stressed like you are right now. I know my best friend. Don’t worry, I haven’t started recording yet. I will once she starts the actual gliding-over-your-stomach part.”

Dr. Willis’s places the transducer on the system’s desk next to her before turning her attention back to Y/N. “Before I start, I'm going to ask a few questions, alright?”

Y/N hears the faint sound of an iPhone starting to record and she holds herself back from rolling her eyes. “Yes, that’s alright.”

“Okay,” Dr. Willis starts. “When did you discover you were pregnant?”

“A week ago,” Y/N answers immediately. “Aubrey was with me.”

“Do you have any assumptions on how far along you might be?” Dr. Willis waits for Y/N’s response, but when she shakes her head, she continues. “Okay, not to worry. Any symptoms of pregnancy? Have you started craving things yet? Morning sickness?”

Y/N informs her doctor about the morning sickness that started precisely after she found out she was pregnant, but that she had felt nauseous from before. She also mentions that she has had no cravings so far, at least none that she knows of, and that she’s been having more headaches recently.

Dr. Willis smiles before turning the elevated portable desk more towards Y/N. She pulls a pair of latex gloves on, grabbing the transducer and holding it above Y/N’s stomach. She inches her sweater a bit higher and her pants’ waistline a bit lower. With every second that passes, Y/N’s breathing becomes more ragged. She keeps her eyes glued to the black and white screen that shows nothing yet as she waits for Dr. Willis to start the ultrasound.

And then, the plastic wand is placed on her abdomen, pushing the gel around in search of a fetus. Y/N’s eyes stay on the screen, the image on it moving around rapidly as the doctor glides the transducer a bit lower, turning her head to the screen next to Y/N’s head. She pushes the head of the stick a bit deeper into her skin, and a second later, in the midst of all that black and white blurriness, a white smudge appears.

Dr. Willis circles the rod, trying to find the clearest image of her patient’s child, and once she finally finds one, she keeps her hand steady as she reaches her other hand towards the screen. “You see that?” She asks, pointing to a very small, bean-shaped white area. “That, right there, is your baby.”

Y/N feels like her heart has stopped beating. The screen in front of her becomes blurry as she feels the familiar burning sensation of tears in her eyes, threatening to spill. She holds her breath, keeping her gaze on the screen as her eyes give out and tears stream down her cheeks and temple. Shakily, she lets out the breath she’s been holding and gasps for air. Y/N wants to reach out to her stomach. She wants to push the probe off herself and touch the skin above her baby’s home. She wants to cry tears of joy and she wants Calum to be here and she wants him to be excited. This is not how she imagined she would start a family.

Dr. Willis reaches for the tissue box on her desk and hands it to Y/N. She grabs it, pulling tissues out of it quickly and wiping her face. Dr. Willis uses this time to save two images of the ultrasound, remove the wand from Y/N’s stomach, and wipe off the gel. She records a few things on her clipboard before turning back to Y/N.

“Alright so, from the looks of it, you’re about 8 weeks pregnant. That’s almost two months, meaning you’re still in the first trimester. The first one is very dangerous and very important. If you choose to keep it, you have to be careful.”

Y/N turns her head around to Aubrey – who's still recording – to see if her best friend has anything to say. Aubrey looks at her friend with a sad smile on her face, turning the camera to capture Y/N’s bloodshot eyes.

“I, um,” Y/N whispers, turning back to Dr. Willis. “I don't– I’m not sure if ...”

“Okay, that’s okay. You have until the 24th week to get an abortion, but no later.” The doctor responds. “If you want, if you think it might help with your ultimate decision, you can hear your baby’s heartbeat.”

The air is knocked out of Y/N’s chest. “I can... I can hear it?” She asks, her voice barely audible.

“Yes! The embryo’s heart starts beating around the sixth week, but it can be picked up by ultrasound around 8 weeks and on. Would you like to listen to it?”

Y/N hesitates, wondering if hearing her baby’s heartbeat will result in a bias in her final choice. She’s quiet for a few minutes, looking down at her feet as she ponders the thought. Finally, she looks back up at her doctor with a decision.

“Yes.”

Dr. Willis smiles, instructing her to lie back down and do as she did before, rolling up her sweater and such. Pumping some more gel onto her stomach, she grabs the transducer, and once again, glides it over Y/N’s abdomen. On the computer, she turns a number of dials up and down, and after a few seconds, a rapid pounding ripples through the microphones.

Whatever tears that had dried in Y/N’s eyes start forming again, and this time she lets them fall. She closes her eyes as she listens to the musical beat that is her child’s existence, silent tears slipping from her eyes.

And when Dr. Willis turns it off and removes the wand from Y/N’s stomach, she wants to scream. She wants to yell at her to turn it back on and let it play forever. But instead, she wipes her tears away with her tissue and blows her nose, and waits until her doctor has cleaned the gel before sitting up.

“Everything looks great,” Dr. Willis says. “and you’re both perfectly healthy. If you decide to keep it, I’m going to need you back here every few weeks just to check if everything is going well. Oh, and you can find out the baby’s gender in 10 weeks, if you want to schedule any appointments.”

Y/N’s gaze is blank as she nods, trying to gather her emotions and thoughts into one place for long enough to be done with the conversation. “Um, what if I decide... otherwise?”

Dr. Willis tears a piece of paper from her notepad and hands it to Y/N. “I’ve written the address and the name of the clinic if you decide to terminate. The phone number is also there. The rest is up to you.”

Y/N and Aubrey thank the doctor for her time, she informs them that pictures of the ultrasound and a voice memo of the heartbeat will be sent to Y/N’s email, and they leave the building. Once they are seated in the car, still parked, Aubrey turns to her friend. “What are you going to do?” She asks, genuinely surprised by Y/N’s reaction to, well, everything.

Y/N’s eyes stare out the front window, red, bloodshot and tear-stained. She takes a shaky breath before mumbling, her voice hurt and confused.

“I don’t know.”

16 notes · View notes

em-be-lievable · 6 years

Text

Split-Brained

A/N: Aight, I know this isn’t what y’all wanted but in light of recent events I’ve found myself getting triggered and wanting to vent with Patton to cope. Thank @virge-of-a-breakdown for inspiring me to purge my feelings in fic form (also if you haven’t read their fic ‘The Invisible Language’ you really should because it’s great 10/10 would recommend not reading this self-indulgent garbage and reading that instead kkkkkkkk) No explanations, we project our problems on our favorite characters like men.

(Song pairings for this fic are: Girl Anachronism by the Dresden Dolls, Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger, and We Know Where You Sleep by the Paper Chase)

Words: 3255

Warnings: mentions of psychosis, disorganized speech, memory loss, visionary/auditory hallucinations, paranoia, mentions of hospitalization, mentions of medication, mentions of gaslighting and abuse, kinda sympathetic deceit (If you count making him a dog being sympathetic- Deceit has become my own personal meme guys, I’m sorry.)

Ships: LAMP/CALM (Because you should know by now if I can shoehorn in a healthy, supportive, polyamorous relationship I 100% will)

Summary: Patton was ‘Split-brained.’ If people were computers, then he would be a pc still running with windows 98, dial-up internet. It wasn’t bad, but it was something he had to live with every moment of every day.

Recovery was a game of chance. He could go into a psychosis tomorrow, and never get out of it, or he could wake up a week from now and never have another symptom again. Medication kept him functioning, and therapy helped him deal with the worst of it. But both could only do so much with the chemical war in his brain. That was just the volatile way life was for him, and he had long since learned what to avoid and how to make the best of living day-to-day

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Waking up in the morning always had to be the hardest part of the day for Patton. Getting to sleep was tricky in its own right, but it didn’t compare to the struggles that were coming back into consciousness. Morning was when his mind was the loudest.

Remy was actually the one to wake him up. The black and tan german shepherd barking, and nosing him until he came to. He couldn’t even be mad at the dog- after all this was a service Remy had been task trained to do. It wasn’t the puppo’s fault that auditory hallucinations of his phone alarm kept waking him up until 4am (eventually rendering him immune to the very real sound of his actual phone alarm now in the daylight hours. He’d have to change it again.)

“Danger. Don’t leave. Not safe. Stay. We’re not alone. We’re in danger. Don’t leave. Don’t move-”

Prying himself from the warm cocoon of soft blankets, Patton pet and praised the dog for performing his task, before getting up and sleepily stumbling to the bathroom. Once he was in there his eyes darted to the vibrant pill case one of his boyfriends, Roman, lovingly decorated for him. It was Logan’s suggestion, having the case be brightly colored, and in plain sight on the counter would make it easier for Patton to remember to take his medication- and Ro was all too eager to support his partner however he could.

Pat was grateful for his three, wonderful partners- but he couldn’t shake the intrusive thought of him being a burden on them. They did so much to help him out- Logan leaving him little reminder notes, and checklists all over their shared apartment, Virgil constantly responding to frantic phone calls and texts to give reality checks, and Roman always taking breaks from work to take Patton to therapy, and appointments with his psychiatrist (going alone gave him a lot of anxiety.) And despite their constant reassurance that they wanted to be there for him, he couldn’t help but let the negative thoughts creep up into the back of his mind.

He looked down at the multicolored tablets in his hand. “Poison. Don’t take it. It’s poison. They’re trying to change you. These are going to kill you. They’ll just turn you into a zombie. Don’t trust it. Poison-”

Sipping on a glass of water, he popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed before they could reach his tongue. The whispers were on a tirade again, but it had been a long time since he stopped really listening to their opinions on medication. He couldn’t always tune out, or ignore what they were saying; but he was getting better at managing his responses to it.

The voices weren’t always scary, sometimes they were just odd. Most of the time they just echoed thoughts he had. As Pat stepped in the shower there was an chorus of “Water. Warm. Shower. Water. Hot water. Soap. Shower. Warm-” that eventually cascaded into white noise. Before he started taking his antipsychotic medication they would talk to him, or amongst themselves and it would get so loud he couldn’t hear his boyfriends shouting directly into his ear. There also used to be more ‘types’ of voices too. Some he’d hear like people were speaking next to him, others were more like thoughts that didn’t have his voice or would have really weird accents. Then there were the really bizarre ones that felt like a tingling in the back of his head. He couldn’t ever make out what they were saying but he could always tell if they were mean or angry.

But, if he was being honest, auditory hallucinations were the least troublesome part of his mental illness. When he was first getting diagnosed they were terrifying- but now they were just annoying. Just a low thrum softly filling his head as he got out of the shower, got dressed, and began the trek downstairs to the kitchen.

If he had to pick the most troublesome part of his disorder, it’d be the stuff that you never saw portrayed in media. Hallucinations were just the tip of the iceberg- and out of every movie about a person like him he never saw the part where they addressed the other stuff. Things like memory loss, fractured thinking, compulsive behavior, or disorganized speech patterns.

“Coffee. Stirring. Cup. Warm. Hot. Coffee. Mug. Warm. Cup-” It was honestly irritating. Then again the only time he saw people like him in media was in horror films. But even then they had perfectly coherent Hannibal Lecter type people who just occasionally see stuff. The reality was much less pretty- if it wasn’t for Logan’s lists everywhere, and Remy, he wouldn’t remember to brush his teeth, or eat. On a good day he only had a minor stutter, and on bad ones he couldn’t talk at all.

He remembered he tried to explain it to Virgil once. He and his emo boyfriend couldn’t sleep and were chatting on the couch when Virge asked him what it was like. Patton, not being the best at explaining things, had decided to show him. So he found a few of Logan’s unused note cards, and asked Virgil to write out a thought with each word of it being on a different note card.

“Okay n-n-now lay it out in o-order.” Patton instructed, earning a raised eyebrow from the emo as he quickly laid out the sentence in order on the coffee table. Once he was done, Patton took the note cards and scrambled them- shuffling them up so they were completely out of order.

“N-now lay-lay it out ag-agai-again.” He said, handing back the cards and watching as Virgil sifted through the cards to find the first word, then the second, and so on until the whole sentence was on the coffee table in front of them.

Patton explained that while neurotypical people had their thoughts in order, like the first deck of note cards, his were constantly scrambled. So he has to put everything back in order before he does anything. That the metaphor applies to everything- talking, actions, thoughts. It was why he physically froze when he couldn’t remember what he was doing, or why sometimes he’d stare at his boyfriends looking for an answer for a question he forgot to ask. If people were computers, then he’d be a pc still running with windows 98, dial-up internet.

“But what about the…” Virgil paused, taking a moment to find the right way to phrase his question, “...other...stuff?”

Patton thought that was a bit more tricky to explain. He could spend the rest of his life talking out the small nuances of the ‘other stuff’ and only scratch the surface of what it entailed.

It was the way him, his thoughts, and his feelings felt like separate entities and not one solid person. It was going for a walk at 1pm and coming back at 9:30 with no recollection of where he went, or what he did. It was his mind latching onto a statement like ‘does Ohio even really exist’ and ruminating on it so much that he became convinced nothing was real anymore. It was loving people, but simultaneously not being able to trust them and avoiding them. It was flipping the light switch on and off because there was a dark figure in the corner when the lights were off but if he flipped the switch EXACTLY 26 times then it wouldn’t come after him, or his family. It was taking pictures of things with his phone to send to Virgil so he could ask if Virgil saw what he was seeing. It was existing in two separate realities at the same time and constantly having to figure out which one was the real reality and which one was just his illness.

It was staring off into his coffee cup for a half an hour while his service dog barked to snap him back into the moment- like now.

Patton shook his head, trying to refocus. His chronic ‘spacing out’ (to put it lightly) was why Logan no longer let him use the stove. Speaking of Logan- Patton padded his way to the refrigerator where his wonderfully intelligent boyfriend had made a whiteboard checklist for him. In Logan’s neat, almost font-like handwriting there were various tasks written in sharpie with little boxes next to them for Patton to check off every day. When the others returned from their jobs they’d double check it, and remind him of what he didn’t do yet.

“Marker. Blue. Smooth. Marker. Drawing. Write. Blue. Draw. Marker-”

Picking up the magnetized expo marker Pat went down the list. Medication? Check! Brushing teeth? He’ll do that after he drinks his coffee, and eats breakfast. Shower? Did he take a shower today? Patton reached his hand to feel his hair- it was still damp, so he must have. Check! Breakfast? He should do that. He wasn’t allowed to use the stove without the others in, but it was unlikely he would do any serious damage with a toaster, right? Right. Plopping a piece of bread in the machine, he got out some crofters, and butter before going back to the list while he waited. Put out food and water for the pets? Aw, shoot. That’s probably why Remy was barking.

Recapping the marker, Patton moved to fill the dog’s food and water dishes. Telling Remy to shake before he set down his food dish.

“Dog. Noise. Crunch. Food. Dog. Soft. Warm. Hairy. Dog. Woof. Noise. Dog-”

The service dog had actually been Virgil’s idea, and one that Patton was wholly opposed to at the start. It wasn’t like he didn’t want a dog- he did! He loved dogs! But a service dog was a whole other animal (pun intended.) Getting a service dog meant he actually had to admit he had a disability, and Patton didn’t really feel like he was disabled. Sure, certain things were harder to do, yeah. And he had to navigate around obstacles his mental illness provides- but disabled seemed like a stretch. If he’s being honest it still seems like a stretch; but after an hour of Logan listing him all the ways the service dog could help, and how common service dogs had become in the mentally ill community, Patton finally agreed.

There was another reason though, with the dog came the addition of having to explain what his disability was. And Patton...didn’t like having to tell people. He barely liked even associating himself with the word. He was…..split-brained. He had the big S. But the stigma that surrounded it didn’t apply to him. Every time he opened up to a close friend they always expressed how they couldn’t believe it given how ‘normal’ Patton seemed- definitely not what came to mind when someone thought ‘schizo.’ What if people didn’t believe him? Confrontation was never really his thing.

It was actually Roman who supplied a solution. If Patton was getting a dog, then Virgil would too. That way when they went out together it wouldn’t be as weird. That’s how the small yellow Tibetan Spaniel, Dee came to be Virgil’s emotional support animal. Unlike Remy, Dee wasn’t trained to task, he was just there to comfort Virgil when his three boyfriends couldn’t. And all the love and pampering made Dee into something of a complete mischievous diva. The little fluffy dog had a habit of appearing out of nowhere and yapping very loudly right behind Patton. Especially when it came to the horrendous offense that was feeding Remy first. But Virgil had taken the little puffball to work with him today so Patton was safe from any yappy startling.

Patton chipperly checked off the task from the list with the expo marker, recapping it and moving to the living room where his laptop sat. Holding down on-site jobs was, frankly, unrealistic for him. But he managed to still stay on his own two feet by freelancing. It wasn’t easy (and required so many reminder notes) but with Logan’s organizational help he was able to work in his own way, and remain (relatively) independent. Which was a godsend compared to spending the rest of his life living with his parents.

Don’t get him wrong, Patton loved his parents, and they did so much for him. Life couldn’t have been easy with a split-brained kid, and they had been pretty patient with him early on with his first few psychoses. But (why was there always a ‘but’) they still had ticks, and expectations he couldn’t meet. He’d recognized too little too late that they were gaslighting him to make their lives easier. Every now and again, when they’d say something that’d upset him, he’d try talking about it only to be met with ‘I never said that’ or, ‘are you sure that’s how it really happened?’ And Patton believed them because he couldn’t really trust his own perception that much. Their distaste were in the way they presented himself to other people too. “You probably shouldn’t tell them about your….disorder.” They’d lecture in car-rides going to social gatherings that Patton loathed. “It isn’t that we’re not proud of you! Other’s just might not be so understanding-” Their words always echoed in his skull, quickly becoming fodder for his mind to latch onto and use against him. He couldn’t stand the way they grimaced whenever he was brought up in conversation. All the times his mom uttered the hushed words of “Patton’s…...different-” made him want to scream out.

‘Just say it. Say what you’re thinking. Crazy. You think I’m crazy.’

He knew he scared them. Living with them always guaranteed the looming threat of hospitalization if he displayed symptoms they weren’t comfortable with. They always felt the need to walk on eggshells so as not to disturb him more than he already was. His illness became a weapon against him more often than not- a way to discredit him and excuse their own actions. Even with all the tips and tricks he learned to covertly hide; pretending to be talking on the phone when he was arguing with the voices, or practicing proper empathetic faces in the mirror to use when talking to people. Locking himself up in his room whenever he was having a psychotic breakdown, or visual hallucinations, and doing everything in his power to not react to the loud auditory ones. It never seemed to be enough though, and he was always met with glazed over eyes, and disapproving frown of his mother whenever he forgot something and did it several times over, or had too much disorganized thought to speak properly. They just wanted him to be normal, to get better. But unlike other mental illnesses, recovery was a game of chance. He could go into a psychosis tomorrow and never get out of it, or he could wake up a week from now and never have another symptom again. Medication kept him functioning, and therapy helped him deal with the worst of it. But both could only do so much with the chemical war in his brain. That was just the volatile way life was for him, and he had long since learned what to avoid and how to make the best of living day-to-day. But his parents never seemed as satisfied with that as he was. And more often than not it had a negative impact on his mental health, and he found himself getting worse while staying under their roof.

It was Roman who noticed the effect his parents had on Patton, and convinced him to leave. At first Pat dug his heels in. He really didn’t believe Roman knew what he was signing up for. Yeah, they had all been dating since sophomore year of high school- but Patton had done everything in his power to keep the worst of it from his boyfriends. He could take a lot, but he couldn’t take them being scared of him too. It took months of convincing, the final straw coming with Patton’s most recent hospitalization.

He had developed some kind of allergic reaction to a medication he was on, but in order to find out which one he had to be slowly weaned off all of them. They checked him into the hospital, stuck an IV into him, and closely monitored him as he slipped in and out of psychosis, and got wrapped up in some bizarre delusions. But despite his incoherence and strange behavior his boyfriends didn’t leave his side. They took shifts, ensuring that Patton was always with someone he knew. Logan constantly pelted the doctors with questions on the doctor’s care choices. Virgil brought all of Patton’s favorite stuffed animals and blankets for familiarity. And Roman played all of Patton’s favorite disney movies whenever the room was silent. They learned as much as they could about Patton’s situation. How to handle his delusions and what to do when he had episodes of low empathy, or isolation. It was a breath of fresh air for Pat to have his illness embraced, and not met with the usual disdain he got from his parents. He could have almost cried when Logan didn’t get mad when Patton explained that he didn’t want to eat dinner with them because he was convinced it was poisoned, or when Virgil didn’t find it upsetting when Pat had set up a little ‘nest’ of towels, pillows, and blankets in the bathtub because it felt like the only place They™ couldn’t get him. There was even an instance where Pat thought that Roman had been replaced with someone who looked identical to roman, but wasn’t Roman. The actor didn’t tell him it wasn’t true, or refuted Patton’s pleads for the ‘imposter’ to return his boyfriend. He simply went along with it- telling Patton he was going to return Roman before making a show of leaving the bedroom and re-entering thanking Patton for having the clone return him. (He also explained what he did to Patton later when the split-brain was in a better state.)

It was so nice to not be treated like the burden he thought he was. Their love showed in every one of the caring acts they did for him, trying to make his hectic life a little more manageable in any way they could.

“Patton?” A rough voice broke through his thoughts, making him turn towards the door. It was Virgil, a fussy Dee wriggling in his arms.

“Virgil. Calm. Boyfriend. Love. Virgil. Trusted. Boyfriend. Roommate. Dog. Dee. Virgil-”

“Hi honey, you’re home early!” Patton chirped, a well practiced smile gracing his lips. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, setting Dee on the floor with little ‘clip clip’s’ from the toy dog’s claws.

“Pat, it’s 4:30, I always come home around this time.” Patton’s face dropped, as he turned back to the laptop he’d been staring at. When had it gotten so late?

“Uh, Virge- could you read this for me and make sure it makes sense?” Patton hummed, trying to reread over the email he was going to send but not quite processing the words. Virgil stalked over, glancing at the screen and humming.

“Sorry Pat, it’s complete jibberish.” He purred, rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Wanna help me with dinner and we’ll take a crack at writing it after?” “Sure.” Pat said with a sigh, as he closed the laptop and stood up to join his boyfriend. Living as a split-brain was difficult, but living with three amazing partners made it manageable.

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Endnote: This was way longer than I intended it to be. Sorry, I had a lot to say.

#em writes #vent fic #patton sanders #ts sanders sides #lamp/calm #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #Please for the love of all that is good read the warnings

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butiaintgonnaloveem · 7 years

Text

Crapulous

Characters: Dean, Reader, OC Patsy

Word Count: 2700-ish (whatttt?? that’s it??)

Warnings: Language, alcoholic consumption, sass

A/N: The morning after an alcohol-soaked case, the reader is doing her best to recover with little-to-no help from Dean. I wrote this for @seenashwrite‘s 200 followers celebration. Prompts are bolded throughout the fic. I also managed to sneak in the Hiatus Challenge prompt from @thing-you-do-with-that-thing. *Nash, although I didn’t sign up for it, there’s a bonus prompt in there, too!! Many thanks to @idreamofhazel and @kayteonline for being fabulous and helpful betas. As always, feedback and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated!

I groan as I feel sleep drifting away from me. My head is rocking and bouncing with the potholes in the road, but I fight it, desperate to hide away from consciousness and the hangover that would come with it. The beginnings of it already start to creep in on me, my body sore and achy, the foul taste of hard liquor remnants coming alive as I lick at my dry mouth. My eyes scrunch further shut and my nose crinkles in displeasure as the heat from the sun beats down on me.

“Nooooo,” I moan, feeling the immediate jack-hammering to my skull, making my brain throb as I start to wake. “Oh. Bad.”

A feeling of nausea rolls through me, my stomach quivering as it threatens to heave up its contents.

“Well,” Dean says, gratefully gently, “Good morning, starshine.”

“No,” I grunt, cutting him off and making him chuckle.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m dying. I don’t ever want to drink again.”

“Aww, come on. Can’t be that bad.”

“Shut up.” I whine. Completely pathetic.

“Hey. Don’t pass out on me again.”

I wave him off as he chuckles to himself again, and once I swallow the nausea back down, I resettle myself to pass back out. I’m just finding the sweet spot when I feel the car swerve then start to shake and rattle, the loud thundering from beneath us jolting me upright as I cling to the dashboard.

“Ohmygod!”

Dean turns the wheel, pulling the Impala away from the rumble strip along the side of the highway. “You gotta wake up, we’re almost in Hays.”

“Ugh, again?” I look at him, my face scrunched up in pain. “Can’t we just go home so I can die in peace?”

He purses his lips, at least pretending to think it over. “No can do. I’ve got a date with a plate of bacon and a sweet, sweet woman.”

“Dean, it’s unhealthy.”

“Look, leave the bacon alone-”

“No, not the bacon - Patsy. Because you - prolapsed rectum that you are - are infatuated with her, whose cobwebby old snooch, by the way, I can smell from here.”

“Pshh,” he shook his head at me, “You sound jealous.”

“You. Wish.”

Twenty minutes later, Dean pulls off the highway and into a lot overgrown with weeds and rogue patches of grass. The restaurant lacks a sign out front, and if it weren’t for the huge, dingy windows, no one would have known people were inside. Dean quickly hops out, waiting as I force myself from the car, every bit of me protesting as I go.

He pulls open the creaking screen door, following as I walk through first, and lets it slam shut behind him. The short, leather-skinned waitress pushes through the kitchen door, mouth curved into a wrinkled frown.

“There’s my special lady!” Dean shouts from behind me, making me cringe. I glance to my left, noticing a group of college kids looking like they’re still going from the night before, and on the other side, a few other stragglers who seem just as confused as I am as to why they are there.

“Well hey Dean, Y/n. Go on, sit down, you’re blockin’ the breeze,” she says, shooing us away from the entrance and the swiveling fan that pulls in nothing but dry, hot air from outside.

Dean shoves me into a booth, just settling in as she places down two waters, condensation already dripping down the sides of the slim glasses.

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon. You keep up with all these visits and you’re gonna make my husband jealous,” she croaks. Her sandpaper voice, perfected by about 80 years of smoking at least 2 packs a day sends my skin crawling with irritation.

“Which husband is that - number four or number five?” I ask, rubbing my head on my palm.

She tilts a hip, setting her hand on it. “Four. And if I have my way, Dean will be my lucky number five,” she responds matter-of-factly.

“Ohhh, Patsy, I’m yours. Just as long as you vow to make me that pie of yours.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she scolds him. “You’re gonna be my trophy husband. Can’t let you go and get all plump on pies.”

“More like consolation prize,” I mutter.

“Please honey, this boy is arm candy and you know it,” she emphasizes with a bony finger pointed at me. Dean sits up a bit straighter, pleased to be so blatantly objectified as I roll my eyes, regretting it immediately as the movement strains my eye muscles.

“So what am I in this whole situation?”

Patsy eyes me up and down for a moment, clumpy mascara chunks sticking together as she lazily blinks.

“I’ll let you be his mistress. I’m sure he’s got the stamina for it, and Lord knows you ain’t got the brains to lock him down before someone else does.”

I bark out a laugh, setting off a fresh wave of pain in my head. “More like I’m too smart for that.”

She gives me a pointed look, droopy eyelids hanging down despite the eyebrow she’s raised.

“What? I am,” I insist.

“Right, because you walked into ‘Stripper’s Discount Warehouse’ and said, ‘Help me showcase my intellect.’”

I drop my mouth open, amusement and shock hitting me in equal measure. Dean slams a hand down onto the table, making the silverware rattle as he tries to contain his laughter.

“Patsy, go easy on her, she’s had a rough night.” He gestures at me and I glance down at myself, assessing whether or not I look as awful as I feel. I’m still wearing my ‘bait’ outfit that helped me blend in with the rowdy, drunk crowd from the night before. It’s more than a little off-kilter; I wipe under my eyes, pulling away the residue of eye makeup.

“Well, Dean, if that’s how you leave the ladies the morning after, I might have to reconsider our relationship.”

“Please, Patsy, you know I’d treat you like a queen.” He grabs her hand, holding it tenderly.

“And I’d never let you out of bed to see the outside world again.” She winks. “Now, let’s get some food in y’all before Y/n here goes green.”

Dean smiles and shakes his head in awe. “I love you.”

She pats his shoulder condescendingly as she walks away humming ‘Looking for Love,’ refilling a few coffee mugs and jotting down an order for the cook waiting at the griddle.

“So, fill me in on last night. I’m guessing the bloodsuckers didn’t give you too much trouble?” I ask, sipping the water and letting my fingers trail along the condensation.

“Nah, it was pretty easy to get the location of the nest. However, you...at last call, that’s a whole other story.”

“Yikes.” It’s as much of an apology as I can give at the moment, but he accepts it. I dig an ice cube from the glass and pop it into my mouth, “Next time, I’m dangling you for bait.”

“What? I don’t get an encore?” He smirks.

“An encore of what?” I ask with a tilt of my head. Desperate for the pain to go away so I can focus on remembering what happened.

His smirk spreads into a wide smile, his eyes shining with mischief. How he looks so good while I feel so terrible just makes me more frustrated and ready to backhand him. A flash of red and green zooms past before I hear it plunked onto the table, drawing my attention away from our staring contest.

“Quit makin’ eyes at my man and drink up,” Patsy interrupts.

I turn to her, getting a stern look in reply as she nods at the table. A short glass of thick, red tomato juice with a huge celery stalk sticking out of it rests before me, which I stare at suspiciously.

“Hair of the dog, hun. It’ll perk you right up.”

My stomach rolls and Dean laughs at the gurgle.

“Oh, well, I hope that’s got some whiskey, and some tequila, and let’s see - does rum sound right to you?”

“I'll be...ugh….bathroom,” I mumble and gesture as I scramble out of the booth, tripping on anything and everything on my way. A watery belch escapes from my stomach, burning on the way up.

“Gross,” I whisper at myself, trying to ignore the giggling from the table of college kids that got an earful.

The bathroom smells like piss, and wet dog, and more piss - not helping my uneasy stomach, but at this point I'm sure puking would make me feel worse. I hover over the seat, weakly tugging at the fabric at my hips to pull it down, until the urge becomes too much and I shove them down, letting out an ahhh of relief, followed swiftly by a confused, “What the -?”

After taking a moment to wipe some cool water over my face and clean up the smudged makeup and drool marks, I do my best to walk back without wobbly legs, barely making it before collapsing back into the booth, sliding across the vinyl to unflattering noises, grateful to have to put little to no effort into sitting.

“Dean?”

“Yup?” he asks, popping the ‘p’ harder than necessary. His bottom lip is stiff and trembling as he tries to hold onto a straight face.

“Whose underwear am I wearing?”

Before I get two words out he's folding over in laughter.

“Fucking tequila,” I spit, angry at drunk me, and more angry at Dean for enjoying it so much.

He's trying to form words between laughter, but only gets out snippets that don't make any sense. “The band...and these paper hats...he had beef jerky...and you...and you…” He gives up as I stare at him flatly, not following a damn bit of it but certain I had violated at least a few local ordinances by his reaction.

“And what did you do that whole time?”

He digs his phone from his pocket, wiggling it in his palm. “Surveillance.” He winks.

My head hurts more. My brain rattles in my skull with every hard beat of my heart, the blood struggling to pump through my dehydrated body. I close my eyes and wrap my hands around the glass of tomato juice, hoping what's in there is enough to provide relief until we get back to the bunker. If Dean’s this thrilled, I must have done something good, but it's all blank, hours lost to a haze of alcohol and loads of blackmail. God Damn it.

“For I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God.” I attempt to sound repentant.

“Prayers won't help you with this one.”

I open my eyes, staring at the cocktail in my hands and the absurd celery stalk standing in it like it's a Magic 8 Ball, ready to provide me with an answer as I continue my prayer. “Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me in the hour of my death, which I hope is soon. Amen.”

“That was very moving.” I look up, surprised to see Patsy there with a tray of food and a smirk on her face. She sets the food on the table in front of us, moving things as she pleases to make room.

“It was something,” Dean laughs, shaking his head back and forth, staring at his phone screen.

“I'm too hungover for this.” With a groan and all the speed I can muster, I reach across the table, barely snatching the phone from his hand before he can react and dropping it right into the thick, red juice sending it splattering across the table.

I pick up the glass and hand it to Patsy. She takes it gingerly between her fingers, eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

“Patsy, dear sweet angel that you are, can I please get another? There's something in this one.”

“Waste of vodka,” she grumbles, walking back into the kitchen.

Dean has his head resting on his fist, a bored look in his face instead of the angry one I expected. “Feel better, sweetheart?”

“Maybe.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”

“Sammy’s got everything backed up. The cloud, ya know,” he waves a hand in the air, “Now all you did was piss off Patsy.”

“Whatever, she knows you're an ass.”

“Blue ribbon ass.” He takes another bite, talking through his food. “Don’t forget, I’m a prize.”

“You sure are honey,” Patsy croons at him. “But darlin’, you mistreat this girl right here and I don’t care how sweet that ass is, I will beat it up and down main street.”

Patsy sets another drink down in front of me, sending a nod of solidarity my way as she sets Dean’s napkin-wrapped phone in front of him. I finally take a sip, only slightly gagging as I push more alcohol into my system.

“Careful, Patsy, I might like it,” he calls over his shoulder as she walks away.

“So would I,” she hollers as she pushes through the kitchen door.

“Could you be any louder?” I whine, grasping my head in my hands, wanting nothing more than to sink down into the seat and go to sleep again. “Next time you’re the bait.”

“You just wanna see me in a skimpy outfit.”

“I’m gonna puke.”

“So, the case,” his picks up, muffled by a mouthful of food, “There’s good news and bad news.”

“Lord, take me now.” I pinch my nose in frustration.

“Okay, ignoring that. So, good news, the plan worked and we drew out the nest.”

“How could there be bad news?”

“We still gotta take them out.”

“Excuse me? H-how? I mean. Why?” I watch as he shoves more food into his mouth, ignoring me.

“Yeah, so it looks like we’re still on clean up, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

“Oh, I liked that show,” Patsy chimes in, breaking the tension as she fills up Dean’s half-empty coffee mug. “And, ya know, I like them Twilight vampires, too.” She walks away, not adding anything further to the conversation.

Dean’s face curls in displeasure, his voice dropping low, “Oh, Patsy. No.”

“Patsy, yes.” I smile sleepily. “You know, opposites attract. I can see why you like coming here so much.”

“Shut up.” He wipes his hands and face.

“So,” I gulp down more of the cocktail, “Where are they?”

He stares down at the egg residue on his plate, swirling it with the tines of his fork. “They’re, uhhh, West. Just over the Colorado border.”

I squint. “Dean. That’s where we just came from.”

He glances up at me, lips pinched shut as he chews. His eyes wide with a fake look of surprise.

“God damn it, Dean!” He freezes and I lower my voice. “You mean to tell me you just dragged my hungover ass two hours away from our hunt for some breakfast.”

“Not just breakfast,” he insists, shaking his head. “Patsy.”

“You’re seriously obsessed. Are we sure she isn’t a siren or a witch...or mayyybe some kind of rogue leviathan hybrid -”

“Please don’t ruin this for me, Y/n.”

“What if she’s got the whole town under a spell, and we’re screwed because she’d dumbed us down with food…”

“Please stop,” Dean begs, eyeballing the skillet in front of him.

“Oh no no no. Just imagine, we’ve got her cornered, torching this godforsaken place, but we’re too dumbed down to move, and like, a big sweaty fireman carries you out of the burning building and you think - Yeah, okay, he’s gonna give me mouth-to-mouth - but instead he just starts choking the shit out of you, and the last sensation that you feel before you die is he’s squeezing your throat so hard that a big wet blob of drool drips off his teeth, and just - flurp - falls right onto your popped-out eyeball.” I finish describing the scene with my hands clenched around the air.

Dean stares at me blankly, chewing uneasily on the food in his mouth. “That was cruel.”

“What was cruel? Something wrong, hun?” Patsy stops, nodding at Dean’s unfinished plate.

He gives her a skeptical up-down. “No, no, just gotta, you know, hit the road again.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em. Typical.” She shakes her head as she slaps down the bill. “Til next time, darlin’.”

He watches her shuffle away, eyes shifting between the waitress and me. He leans in, whispering, “You don’t really think? I mean, it’s Patsy.”

“Seriously. Grossly. Infatuated.” I shake my head in disbelief, “If we check her out and she’s clean, I won’t come between you again, I promise. Now let’s get back out there and you can tell me about what happened to my underwear before this vodka wears off.”

Tags y’all:

@aprofoundbondwithdean @attractiverandomness @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @babypieandwhiskey @brewsthespirit-blog @mysaintsasinner @impala-dreamer @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @bringmesomepie @sharingan-rasengan-chidori @muliermalefici @mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @notnaturalanahi @anokhi07 @deandoesthingstome @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @ceeceewinchester @roxy-davenport @anotherwinchesterfangirl @demondean-for-kingofhell @iwantthedean @klaineaholic @wheresthekillswitch

#nash200 #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #reader insert #spn reader insert #spn crack fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #spn meets archer

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survivor-guyana · 5 years

Text

Episode 12 - "tbh I totally forgot we were playing Fans vs Favorites." - Jones

So here I am. Maynor got blindsided, TJ had an idol and didn't tell me about it, and I've been on the bottom of 3/4 merge votes (I don't count Unanimous bc that's a twist so we HAd to work together) everyone has basically lied to me at some point, and all of my relationships are fractured in some way or another. Alyssa gave me her explanation why everything went down the way it did: She heard that TJ babbled to Jess that Aidan was going against Alyssa/Devon/Jess, so they confronted him with this information and flipped back to the otherside (alongside dani obviously.) HOWEVER Alyssa believes that TJ and Maynor were the ones campaigning against her, and didn't think I had anything to do with it at all (hehehehe), but because the "majority alliance" had been worried about TJ having an idol, their only options were either me or Maynor. Alyssa then told me that Aidan had been trying to throw my name out all day, but she kept me safe (HEHEHEHE) so boom. This also lead me to the realization that TJ doesn't really trust me and he never did. If he did, he would've been able to confide in me if he found the idol (which he did) and he DID, in fact, leak to the other side that Aidan/Dani were flipping (when he said he hadn't heard anything at all). If TJ told the truth about the situation, I do think Maynor and I wouldn't have tried as hard to save him, and Maynor would still be in this game. I told him i would tell him if I heard anything, but he's most definitely on the bottom, and i most likely will be voting him out if he doesn't win immunity. (hopefully he doesn't, if he does, it's either me or chelsea.) after all of this information was being processed in my itty bitty brain, I most definitely had a mental breakdown. My brain stopped processing everything that came to mind all together. and all I could do was draw a blank and laugh to myself. I was hopeless, there was no plan moving forward and I was trapped as a "goat" once again for the eventual winner of Tumblr Survivor Guyana: Fans Vs. Favorites 7... who am I kidding? Guacamole Jones doesn't just give up that easily. Aidan and Dani had expressed that they wanted to flip before the whole TJ fiasco. If I can find a way to separate myself from him and squeeze my fat ass into any cracks i can, then I will. but it will probably end in me having to do a bit more exposing to Aidan about Alyssa. (specifically about her leaking info to me.) If I can get them to my side, I have them as allies, and I also have Chelsea. so hypothetically that would be 4 ( + 1 with Aidan's vote steal) vs 3, and we can easily sweep the majority. obviously this is an act to save myself, however, this may mean more to me than that. When I said that I wanted people to play their own games, I actually meant it. Everyone deserves to fight for their spot in the game, and should fight for their case to stay. Right now it feels like everyone is playing into Alyssa's hand, and i'm not here for it at all. so i'm gonna try to do something about it.

Buckle up bitches, it's "Tea-Time" with Jess.

Today's Topic is: "Another round, another mess".

I'm going through some SHIT.

The last couple of rounds I've been trying to do the whole "let's minimize Jess's threat level" and that shit isn't working out. I'm ironically getting credit for moves and taking out people who I can honestly say I had no say in whatsoever. I've literally done nothing in this game except be a NUMBER. The only move I've made? Is getting out Sammy but I don't think I can take FULL CREDIT FOR THAT.

So I'm kind of annoyed I'm getting way more credit than I deserve because I've been down this path before. People are using myself/Alyssa as their shields and making the moves they want to do because they won't get the blame BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT: Alyssa and I will. That'll get us taken out of this game within the next couple of rounds GUARANTEED.

I've compromised so much in this game. I basically screwed my relationship with TJ up. That shit sucks but as a player he's DANGEROUS but he was my kind of dude? Hopefully he can see the numbers/odds are stacked against him and he'll have no choice BUT TO WORK WITH ME. So let's pray that happens or else big yikes x10000.

On the next next subject that is ANNOYING ME TO NO GOD DAMN END.

J-O-N-E-S <INSERT KERMIT HANGING HIMSELF MEME HERE>. I don't get the appeal as her as a PLAYER. I get the appeal for her as a PERSON OUTSIDE OF THE GAME..... she seems awesome, relatable, funny.

HOWEVER IN THIS GAME SHE'S: Messy, annoying, and CAN NOT BE TRUSTED.

YET..... the person I consider my #1, the person who I've basically fucked up my game multiple times for bye putting my foot down every time someone tries to take her out.... STILL FUCKING TRUSTS HER?! <INSERT I DON'T UNDERSTAND DANCING GIF HERE>. I DON'T G-E-T- I-T. Jones went around last round spreading Alyssa's name. I'm almost 99.9% CERTAIN. It's so obvious she threw fucking Alyssa under the bus with the Dani vote. That shit came out when Maynor wasn't even ON. HOW DOES SHE NOT SEE THIS?!

All signs are pointing to Jones selling Alyssa out. Detective Jess will take a look at the EVIDENCE: 1. Maynor was not on when TJ was spreading the fact that Alyssa threw out Dani's name. 2. Alyssa only told Maynor/Jones about the Dani vote (50% chance Jones did it.. YAY MATH!). 3. JONES ADMITTED SHE KNEW MAYNOR THREW HER UNDER THE BUS BUT DID NOT TELL HER? LIKE WHAT KIND OF CRACK IS SHE SMOKING?! 4. We've shaded Jones twice in a row with a vote. Of course home girl doesn't TRUST YOU IN THIS GAME. 5. Jones was M.I.A yesterday however, in the main chat she said she'd be ON.

Alyssa not believing Jones had anything to do with her name going around last vote is something I can't look past. I'm at a loss with what to do right now.

ALSO them adding me to the GOLDEN QUEENS when I SPECIFICALLY asked them to do it after this game is SO SUSPECT. All of a sudden I fucking tell Alyssa I'm doubting Jones... I get added to a casual chat with Jones?! I don't fucking understand these people. How obvious do you think this is? Do you think I was born fucking a second ago? I'm just-

D O N E

This stage of the game is crucial for me personally. I don't believe the F5 will consist of myself, Jess, Alyssa, Dani, and Aidan. I think that Dani is over-paranoid more often than not, and Aidan will be smart enough to not let his advantage go to waste.

I am trying to plant a seed in Alyssa's head that we need to flip on Dani and Aidan at the F7, and hopefully she bites the bait. If this works, maybe we can boot Alyssa and leave Jess scrambling? I would rather sit with Dani and Aidan in the F3

I’m over like, 80% of these people. They really think they’re being “slick” or “sneaky” or “good at the game” just because they’re being vague with me? That’s 👏 not 👏 how 👏 I 👏 ROLL 👏 HONEY 👏👏👏 like HONESTLY did they really think I wouldn’t realize I’m getting voted out? Ofc alyssa wants to go to the end with most of these people, it’s bc they’re so obviously bad at being slick. ON TOP OF ALL OF IT you think you can get away with being “sneaky” after you blindsided me NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE, BUT 3 FUCKING TIMES? Lied to my FACE??? Okay. Sure. Play like that. God, these people are really playing into alyssa’s hand, huh? Do they not want to play for themself for once? That’s literally the only thing I want from everyone. Actually that’s not true but its fine. I want them to be HONEST AND TELL ME IM BEING VOTED OUT. AAAAAND I want them to play for themselves. Like play the fucking game or don’t sign up for it imo. I’m over it. Thank god people like Aidan exists though. He seems like he’s genuinely ready to fuck shit up, and I’m just excited to call him and expose the fuck out alyssa. Hell, even if I get voted out, I trust him to go against the grain and actually take a stance. He’s the hero of the season for a REASON lmao. But yeah I’ll keep y’all posted, but It looks like I’m getting 8th place! Which !!! Doesn’t!!!! SOund!!!!! GOOD AT ALL!!! Last time I found out I wasn’t getting voted Johnny as worried about my mental well being. Let’s just,,,, hope for the best this time LMao

I. Dont. Like. Sneaks. In touchy subjects, i was voted as the person who has no idea what's going on, but apparently TJ made a chat with everyone but Dani, Aidan, and I to keep himself safe?? I have talked to him every day at some point and I'm PISSED that he tried to make a chat to potentially target one of us three (who AREN'T EVEN THREATS) to keep himself safe. I will work with anyone who stays loyal and doesn't make everything a shit show, but when you talk to me all the time and go behind my back........ bye. If he stays, he has some explaining to do. Maybe he *knows* i wouldn't vote for him and doesn't see why I should be in on the chat, but in this case, I SHOULD have been in on it. If I find out that he wants to target me, haaaaaaaahahahaa.

I guess 5th and 8th isn't the worst record ever... It just sucks this is how it's going to end.

I think TJ is finally going home since we kinda forced him to use his idol last tribal. Idk I’m tired

Hi so Aidan is literally the love of my life?? We’re actually on the same page/have the same allies and whatnot, so I’m feeling a lot better knowing that we’re allies. We basically agreed that TJ is too much of a fucking mess to keep around right now, so if we get him out then we’ll still have majority on the rest of the group!! So woohoo!!! Also? TJ proposed that there’s an all fans alliance and tbh I totally forgot we were playing Fans v Favorites. Just Bc aidan specifically wanted to target alyssa the round before. But legit,,,, why wouldn’t you target alyssa is my question??? Um but yeah I wouldn’t be shocked if i got votes tonight, but we shall see?? Hopefully I live to see another round, but right now I wanna fuckin sleep

Okay #2. TJ seems to think that Jess and Devon would vote Dani with me and him which just isn't true. I will not vote Dani because she hasn't caused any issues for me or made me feel threatened. TJ making his chat in the first place tells me that he was perfectly fine if me, Dani, or Aidan went home, but I guess as long as someone else said the name, he wouldn't get as much shit for it. He has really put a target on his back by doing this and I am a little bit hurt by it. But contrary to TJ's belief about voting tonight, we're not as divided as he thinks we are.

Me this round:

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Very happy that I have immunity again but I already know that people are going to start saying I'm an "immunity threat" and it's going to annoy me. People look for ANY reason to point a target on anyone and I'm sort of expecting it? I'm already preparing responses for those kind of things.

Today was interesting because TJ was apparently desperate and making pleas to everybody that could listen (which somehow excluded Dani, Chelsea and I) but he eventually made his rounds to Dani anyway. I'm really hoping that he goes tonight because he tanked his whole game and I want him to feel EMBARRASSED and DEVASTATED for even daring to cross me in the way he did. If he listened to me and just followed my lead then he'd still be in the game WITH an idol. Thomas Pascucci is a passive aggressive little snake who loves to play the victim... but I'm hoping as we move into the 7 things get interesting.

I had a good talk with Jonesy today that confirmed a lot of my suspicions and she told me that she wanted to get out Alyssa. I was shook because I thought they were close, which they are, because I had heard she was in her confessional or something. I don't care but this anxious bitch better not be trying to play me either... but Devon seems to want to make a move too because he mentioned something about me/Dani/him needing to decide the next move. I feel like something ALWAYS goes down at 7 in Survivor history so I think everybody is anxious going into this next vote. My talk with Jones also brought my trust for Jess into question... there's a lot she kept from me (and a lot I kept from her, I do admit) but she's equally as messy but I think getting rid of Alyssa will force her into my back pocket more.

At this point there are a lot of small sub groups and alliances and deals and I don't even have an idea who the jury would love or hate. I like to think I have a good shot but it might be my ego... it's all going to be based on who tries to CLAIM different moves I think, or who gets crazy at this point in the game.

In regards to Devon I trust him more now after this round. I think he's more committed to the Massholes F3 than Alyssa/Jess but I'm not sure. I want to get on a call with him and feel him out. Maybe I can offer an F2 to him to ensure his loyalty.

But I also want to go the distance with Dani/Jess. It's a very complicated game and I feel like every boot looking forward needs to be INTENTIONAL. The endgame is near and I'm nervous but at least I still have my Opal Idol. I don't want to fuck up using that either.

DRUNK CONFESSIONAL WOOOO

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I keep thinking to myself "how the fuck did i make F7?" because part of me is like,, genuinely shocked i've made it this far? It doesn't really feel real? But then I like, remind myself of where I started in this game and how it got me to where I am now. And THEN i started thinking about Ko Chang, and then I keep thinking about how much I've grown since then? last time around F7 I was like,, cowering in fear that the majority alliance would destroy me? or something like that? it was a few months ago i just remember crying a lot. BUT WOW!! I really did it huh. Final 7. I feel like this time i'm actually comfortable enough to like,,,, do things now. I'd like to say I set myself up pretty nicely? My talk with Aidan was really successful and we're gonna try taking out Alyssa this round with Dani and Chelsea. Worst case scenario - we still have Aidan's vote steal. If alyssa wins immunity - we'll probably go for Jess? we haven't really talked about that yet? but oh well. we'll have to wait and see. hopefully my 14/20 in the spelling bee is good enough <3

Twelve Hours Later........

Wow 👏 love it when 👏 the one thing 👏 that I want to 👏 NOT 👏 happen 👏 FUCKING 👏 HAPPENS 👏👏👏 So like ok alyssa won immunity and I was THJS FUCKJNG CLOSE KM GONNA PISS MY PANTS ok ok besides the point everything’s fine it’s totally fine we’re all fine hahahahjaha But ummm I already talked to Aidan about what we should do and I think we’re both in agreeance that Jess should go? I think she’s the next best thing behind alyssa. Plus even if she doesn’t go,, I want her to HAVE VOTES LIKE !!!! JOIN THE CLUB!!! But also,, part of me is worried that i’m getting played. While I think aidan’s a genuine person when it comes to wanting the big threats out - how am I supposed to know if he thinks I’M one of the big threats, yk? But I do genuinely think he wants Alyssa/Jess/Devon out before anyone else. Even if that eventually leaves me vulnerable at F4, that’s fine. I can always go on an immunity run or smth if I ever become good at comps :)

But rn,, in the words of Jonathan Stockton: “I’m going to kms”

Dear Jones, If there's ONE thing I've learnt in this game..... it's to NEVER trust a girl who cries more than a pregnant lady.. ever.

Your crocodile tears don't phase me one bit. I've been saying for a while now that you're sketchier than a crackhead in an alleyway.

Your attempt at screwing me over was expected.. Your attempt to screw over Alyssa.... now that shit hurts. That's your BEST FRIEND Jones.. someone who literally has vouched for you to SOOO many people when they were coming after you (me included).

I HONESTLY WANT YOU GONE LIKE.... YESTERDAY.

No amount of dad jokes or Kermit memes are gonna get her out of this mess..

However, I do have ONE LAST DAD JOKE FOR YOU.

Me: Jones, I'm on I'm the jury. Jones: Hi I'm on the jury, I'm dad.. oh wait.

Sincerely, Jess. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The fact that Aidan hasn't come to me yet with the fucking lies Jones has been spreading is concerning. I can't try and save his ass now because of that. I want to save him but how the fuck do I try and defend the guy who is paranoid about me? I could sell out Devon but that does me NO GOOD right now.

7th here I come?!

I feel like every round I say something to someone I risk getting exposed. LIKE ???? Ik I said I felt okay before but I feel like I’m /too/ okay if that makes sense. I told Aidan that his name and Chelsea’s name was thrown out there by Devon. He THINKS that Chelsea’s the one who threw it out there though. Which ISNT how it was supposed to work!! We had a plan to get out Jess what are you dOING!!! NOW aidan’s gonna go to Devon to see where he heard it from. Like???? Might as well just call me out for being a snake now before it’s too late :) why’d Alyssa have to win immunity. She’s the only person who COULDNT WIN!! Why? Bc I HAD TO WIN OR ELSE ID BE DEAD. THIS ISNT HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO WORK IN MY FANTASY!!!!! But,, at least it’s not my name out there. Better anyone else but mine :0 so I don’t think my name will come up? I think the only person who came up with my name was Aidan, and now he’s like,, my new best friend? So yeehaw that’s nice. ,,,,, hopefully The Godfather— I MEAn alyssa doesn’t catch on to my snakiness.

Ugh this group is so nice and there is no particular person that I want to vote out over the other. Devon and Jones seem to want to vote with me and Aidan has talked to me a bunch. Aidan has been my social game person meaning he gives me info on people and has helped me a few times with staying safe and making moves. Last round, he told me about the chat that TJ made which I would have never known about if he didn't tell me. It wasn't a huge deal because people didn't respond and ended up voting him anyway, but still! Knowing that TJ voted me and was potentially targeting me with other people before tribal was information that I needed and Aidan provided. Even though the vote was unanimous, it was still a good thing to band together with him and Dani to make sure a few others were on the same page for the TJ vote.

Now that TJ is gone, I honestly do not know who to vote next. Do I vote Aidan because even though he has been super helpful, he is still a social threat and is killing challenges? Do I vote Dani because I have talked to her least? Do I vote Jess because it would break up the suspicious Jess/Alyssa duo? Do I vote Jones or Devon just because? I don't know what's going to happen tonight because people might have idols to use (or maybe not!) At this point in the game, I'll be sad with whoever goes but I'm ready to vote anyone who isn't me. Maybe that makes me a huge biotch, but it will get me to where I need to be, especially because I haven't played my best game this season. If I do go home tonight, I'm just happy I made it into the single digits :)

So like, I'm finally coming back around to potentially work with Devon, Jess, and Alyssa which I'm happy about because with me, we are the majority this round. At first I wasn't completely against voting Jess, but after hearing that my name was out there and reaching out to Devon, I needed to talk to Jess and see what she wanted to do. Then, Devon told me that if I want Aidan out, going to Jones and Dani isn't a great idea (since they are probs working together), so I needed to tread lightly from then on out. Thank god I never initially gave a clear answer to Jones and Dani on who I definitely want gone because Aidan might have a vote steal and will come for me or all of us lmfao.

I told Jones that I wasn't totally against voting Jess and told Dani and Jones that I wanted to vote with them, just to give them the idea that they would have majority with Aidan....(but I'm not. I am so sorry for flipping on y'all.) I feel awful lying to people because I hate being completely blindsided and not knowing who to trust, but I am doing this vote for me to help MY game.

I feel so dirty with this vote because I know I am going to lose trust in Jones and Dani, AND Aidan if this doesn't work and he ends up staying. I am the swing vote though and so I feel like I have a lot of pressure on me. Do I vote with Dani, Aidan, and Jones to get Jess out? Or do I vote with my Hosororo people and vote out Aidan? Jess is not a threat to me, because I feel like we play a similar game but I may talk to more people. She seems more predictable imo than Aidan. Aidan however, has won multiple challenges, has a killer social game, and poses as a much bigger threat to me if I was to make it farther in the game with him.

I need to vote to benefit myself for this round and that means I need Aidan gone. I am not good enough to win in challenges against someone like Aidan but I think I *might* have a chance if he gets voted out this round.

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I lost immunity by ONE and I'm pissed because now I'm a ball of anxiety and mess. I feel like fucking Jess the way I think I'm going home.

Right now I think it's going to be a straightforward Chelsea vote but stranger fucking things have happened? I'm expecting something wild to go down but my senses aren't tingling that something is happening /to me/ so I'm likely gonna save my Opal Idol for next week which is the last week that I can play it!

I don't know how I feel about the game going forward because there are a lot of deals and I think people trust me but I'm not sure. I'm really solid with my Massholes F3 but also my sub deal with Jess and I really trust a majority of this game. Other people? Not so much.

I think if Chelsea goes we'll definitely have an interesting F6 round

Confessional #3 because things can never just be simple. I ate a bowl of ice cream so now I'm all sugar and FIRED UP. You know what? I'm not feeling so bad if Aidan goes home tonight because apparently he wanted me out and thinks it's gonna be a 6-1 vote against me. Tbh I'm pissed lmao. Devon is telling Jones to vote me so that she doesn't suspect me and Devon working together, so I'm not reaching out to her or Dani anymore until they come to me. Devon doesn't think that Jones will vote for me but honestly who knows? Jones also thinks that I would vote Jess so I can't be too mad if people turn around and vote me. This is probably the round that best describes the "outwit" portion of the game because we're down to 7 people and half of the tribe had their names going around (me, Aidan, Jess, even Dani because Aidan tried to bait me into saying I would vote her.)

JESUS. Now Devon's name has been brought up. Devon told Jones that maybe I should go to get rid of any suspicion that I am working with him, but now apparently Jones told Aidan we should vote Devon..... I'm literally shook by how many names we have filtered through. Who knows, maybe this will be a 6-1 vote for me and I'm going home.

If I go home tonight, I'm telling them in my final words that I had an idol but didn't think I needed it this round, so I gave it to someone else.... and to have fun figuring out who it is :)

I'm literally? so fucking mindboggled right now? i don't know whether I should feel sick or not. like,,, I thought Aidan and I were "on the same wavelength" or something like that. suddenly at 9:45 (15 minutes before tribal might i add) he's just like "we can't do this" like??? YES WE CAN!!! THIS IS THE ONLY LOGICAL TIME TO USE THE FUCKING VOTE STEAL!!!!!!! IF WE USE IT AT F6 WE CAN ONLY TIE IT, BUT IT'LL BE USELESS BECAUSE WE CAN'T USE THE STEAL IN A FUCKING REVOTE!!! THERE IS!!! NO POINT!!!!!!!!!!!!! literally,, if I knew the temptation was a fucking vote steal and I knew I'd end up in THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW then this wouldn't be an issue. I sound like an asshole. but oh!! my!!! GOD!!! YOU SAY YOU WANNA MAKE A MOVE!!! THSI IS THE FUCKING MOMENT!!!! MAKE THE GODDAMN MOVE OR YOU'RE GETTING PICKED OFF IN THIS FUCKING GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 I really can't believe this. and I thought I had hope. sorry i'm so fucking pissed i'm probably gonna lose chelsea over this. this is not her time to go. I fucking hate this. everyone in this game needs to step the fuck up and i'm angry. i'm probably gonna regret this tomorrow, but i don't fucking care.

We were gonna get alyssa out this round for being shady with jones. But she won the immunity. Now we are getting Chelsea I think. I was going to make a video but I’m so tired. Loool sorry

Aidan has been bothering me about flipping the votes over and over again from Chelsea to Jones to Jess

I know this is coming to the end, so big moves NEED to be made. I'll be throwing Chelsea a bone of trust and see if she grabs at it. If all works well, maybe we can get the most powerful player out of the game??? Last male standing

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