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daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

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Not a Couple (no, really!)

For day 3 of the Tedbecca Prompt Party 🥳

5 times someone mistakes Ted and Rebecca for a couple and the one time someone didn’t believe that they actually are...

Using prompts No. 29: 5 times someone mistakes Ted and Rebecca for a couple, and No. 17: Rebecca is Ted’s emergency contact.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton fluffy fluff.

~~~~~

Ted brought another round back from the bar, Rebecca still had her head down frantically scribbling down the information Beard was giving her.

“No, you’re wrong - it was Man City in 2017-18. Chelsea was the year before, it was the start of the big City dominance.”

“I’m telling you, Rebecca, it was Chelsea in 2017.”

“No it wasn’t Beard. Trust me!” Beard looked at Ted with pleading eyes.

“Ted -”

“Beard. I love you, man, but I’m gonna defer to the woman who lived in the UK at the time and who had personal involvement in soccer at the time.”

“Football.”

“Right, boss. Football.” Rebecca wrote down Man City for her remaining answers - name the Premier League champions every year from 2012-3 season to 2022-3 season. Rebecca chose not to gloat when she was proven correct. When Beard went to the bar next, Rebecca and Ted poured over the picture round, heads bowed together whispering.

“Weheeey!”

“Wanker, you did it at last!” They looked up to see Baz, Paul and Jeremy with big smiles and pints in hand.

“Whatcha talkin’ bout fellas?”

“You and the boss! Lookin’ goooood!” Baz shot Rebecca with a finger gun and a wink.

“Oh, no no, we ain’t-”

“It’s about time, innit lads?” Jeremy grinned.

“Yeah, took ya long enough!”

“Boys, you’re mistaken, we’re-”

“Ohhh! Haven’t had the chat yet?” Paul asked and turned to the others, “they haven’t had the chat yet, idiots!”

“Oh shit. Sorry, Ted.”

“Sorry Ms Welton, sorry Ted.” Jeremy and Baz both looked mildly ashamed. “But still, nice one! You wanna have the chat though before she finds someone, y’know, fitter.”

“Well thanks for that, Benjamin Bratt. But when Rebecca tells you you’re mistaken, she means we ain’t dating at all. Just friends here, like that Ryan Reynolds classic.”

“What?”

“Huhh?”

“For real? Cos… I mean, they definitely ended up together in that movie.”

“No no, I don’t think they did. Clues in the title boys.” Ted said firmly.

“They did, I’m sure they did,” Baz whipped out his phone, “I’ll google it, to find out for sure.” Rebecca rolled her eyes, amused rather than offended by their insistence. “Yep, see - definitely did. Oh! Maybe that’ll happen to you two!” Baz looked as though he’d just seen the light.

“Yeah!” Jeremy agreed.

“You’re right matey, that’s it! They just don’t even know it yet.” Paul turned back to Ted and Rebecca, “you just don’t even know it yet!”

“Great chat, boys. Think we’d better get on with the quiz.” Ted insisted, gesturing at their answer sheet.

“Oh yeah, c’mon, let’s finish our picture round. Good luck with the chat wanker! Bye Ms. Welton, lovely to see you, you’re looking very lovely this evening.” The boys disappeared just as Beard returned.

“Do I want to know what that was about?”

“You absolutely do not Coach Beard, believe me.” Rebecca laughed.

"Good evening, Coach Lasso. I’m Jade. Nate has told me a lot about you.” The young woman smiled as Ted approached the front desk of A Taste of Athens.

“Only the really good stuff I hope, Carly Pope.”

“I don’t know who that is.” Jade replied dryly. Ted waved his hand,

“Well then, I guess Popular weren’t that popular over here.”

“Nathan said you’d be bringing your girlfriend this evening. Nice to meet you Ms Welton. Let me show you both to your table.”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“I’m not his-”

“We’re not together.”

“Just friends. Colleagues.”

“She’s the boss.” Ted jerked his thumb at Rebecca. Jade stared at the two of them, bemused for so long that the silence became excruciating.

“Right. Follow me.” She led them to a small candlelit table in the back of the restaurant. “Table for two people who aren’t a couple.” She gestured to the table, deadpan, “so you say.” she muttered quietly as they took their seats.

“That’s the second time in the last month that’s happened.” Ted shook his head, opening the menu.

“Hmm. Weird. They’re obviously projecting. Wine?”

“Yeah, how about that red we had last time?”

“Not sure I fancy red, I’m thinking of having the fish?”

“Oh yeah, definitely not red then. They have a Livio Felluga Pino?”

“Perfect, well spotted.” They talked happily about their current workload, the mood of the team and Beard’s latest sandwich swap contribution. Jade watched them share a starter, offer each other a taste of their mains, and swap desserts halfway through, all with a small shake of her head.

“Hey, did you want to join me and Hen at Harry Potter World when he visits in a couple of weeks? I know you’ve always wanted to go.”

“Oh Ted, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Rebecca, c’mon. You wouldn’t be.”

“Only if you’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll let me get Henry a wand?”

“I’m not allowed to say no, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. But we’re buying you dinner afterwards.”

“Deal.” Rebecca agreed with a smile.

“How are the happy couple doing?” Jade asked, clearing plates. Rebecca sniggered into her glass.

“Wonderful, thank you Jade, that was beautiful.”

“Thanks Jade. I’ll need to have a word with our Nate the Great though. Calling us a couple,” he scoffed, “absurd.”

“Crazy.” Rebecca laughed.

“Hmmm.” Jade frowned, “crazy.”

“Hey Michelle, Henry’s just getting changed, he’ll be out in a minute.”

“No rush, you guys having fun?”

“Oh yeah, he’s having a great time hanging out with the team. That coaching from Jamie is gonna go a long way when his team starts back in September.”

“Great news! How was Harry Potter world?”

“Pretty cool, Hen had a great time.”

“I hear you took Rebecca?”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Sent me a few pictures earlier. You look cute together, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. Wait, no - Michelle, we’re not dating? What makes you think that we are?”

“Are you kidding? Ted, the pictures speak for themselves, hon! And like I said, you look really, really great together.”

“Can you send me the pictures please?”

“Sure, hang on a sec-” there’s a pause on the call while Michelle forwards the photos,

“Oh.” Ted breathed softly.

“You see?”

“But we’re not dating.”

“Really? Wow. Ok. I’m sorry If I made you feel uncomfortable.” They fell into silence, Ted still looking at the images on his phone.

“You really think that’s what it looks like?” He asked quietly.

“Ted, honey, we were together a long time. I know what you look like when you’re in love.”

“Hmm.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Guess not. Must have snuck up on me.”

“Love does that sometimes. And Rebecca?”

“What about her?”

“Do you think she knows? Or loves you too?”

“Honestly Michelle, I have no idea.”

“Maybe you should speak to her.” As Ted went to respond, Henry came bounding in to speak to his mom.

“Mom! We had the most amazing day! Rebecca is so cool, she got me a wand from the giftshop and she said we can go again when it’s all decorated for Christmas and she’s going to take me to see a show at the theatre!”

“That’s so cool sweetheart, I bet you and dad will have a lot of fun.” Ted zoned out of their conversation, lost in his own thoughts.

"Mr Lasso, I really need to insist that you sit down while we assess you. The nurses station is calling your emergency contact, and I'm going to arrange for some x-rays shortly."

"There's really no need, doc. I'm perfectly fine."

"He said you were annoying as fuck, he wasn't wrong."

"Sorry, who?"

"I'm Roy Kent's sister, Sara O'Sullivan. Right, says here your emergency contact is Rebecca Welton. We'll get her here as soon as possible and check over your results." Ted grumbled under his breath, "what happened?"

"We called off training because of the weather, it was too wet and slippery. I figured I'd meet Rebecca at a shareholder meeting, but I got taken out by a Deliveroo rider."

"Some of those riders need a new fucking career. And he really did a number on you, the ambulance was called because you were unconscious so I have to make sure you still have all your fucking facilties."

"Wow, you're definitely Royo's sister."

"I get that a lot." Ted smiled and acquiesced, holding up his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright doc, you got me. I will await further instructions like a good patient."

"Where is he, I need to know right now - where is Theodore Lasso? Which room? Through here?" Rebecca Welton at a reception desk with zero information is a force to be reckoned with, Sara O'Sullivan had decided. She heard the commotion from three wards away.

"Ms Welton? Dr. O'Sullivan - Roy's sister?"

"Sara? It's so good to see you again. Thank god you're here, no one will tell me where Ted is, or what's going on? Was it a car? He never looks the right bloody way. I'll kill him myself if the car didn't succeed."

"He's fine, really. A bit of a bump on the head, but he's fine. I had no idea you were a couple - Roy always tells me the boring stuff like who took a knock in training - like I'm professionally bound to give a shit. I never get the good, juicy details like who Isaac is dating, or you!"

"But we're not dating?"

"He has you listed as his emergency contact?"

"I'm sure friends have friends listed all the time."

"Less often than you might think, actually. Unless you've known them like, the majority of your life, or you're family."

"Oh."

"Anyway, Ted's absolutely fine. Exactly as Roy described him so I take that as a good sign."

"Oh thank god. Could you imagine me having to break the news to his mother?"

"I'll take you through to him, no need to be alarming any mothers." Dr O'Sullivan led Rebecca through the corridors and into a monitoring ward where Ted sat up in bed doodling in his notebook.

"Boss! I'm sorry, I told 'em there was no need to bother you but the good doctor here is as stubborn as her brother."

"Absolute nonsense, Ted! You're bloody lucky Sara was working today," she bustled around him, openly looking him over for visible wounds.

"I'll leave you two to it while I just chase up the last of Ted's results." Sara gave Rebecca a knowing nod and left them to it.

"I really am sorry, Rebecca, I tried to tell them not to call you -"

"Ted, why the fuck am I your emergency contact?" She watched him intently. He had no answer for her. "That is like… wife level shit, Ted! I don't understand why you're in a foreign country, and your emergency contact is not the man you've known since you were kids? What if something serious had happened? What if you'd been really hurt and I didn't have the right information?"

"You know my blood type?"

"O negative."

"That ain't one of the common ones. But you know that it's mine. Distinguishable scars?"

"On your right knee and elbow."

"From?"

"Quad bike accident when you were 19."

"You know more about me than either you think you do, or you care to admit. I put you as my emergency contact, Rebecca, because you're my emergency everything." In the doorway, Dr O'Sullivan cleared her throat,

"Ted? Got all your results back clear. Everything is fine, no damage caused by the bike courier."

"A fucking bike courier, Ted?!" Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Great, doc. So I can go?"

"You can. Watch out for headaches for the next few days, but other than that, you're free to go." She handed him the signed paperwork for discharge, "Lovely to see you again Ms Welton. Take care."

"Thanks Sara, see you soon." Rebecca picked up her bag and coat, "Ted, car's outside."

They sat in silence back to Richmond.

"Rebecca, darling! How lovely to see you!" Rebecca grimaced, her wine halfway to her mouth,

"Tish. Hi."

"How have you been? It's been so long since you went marching out of my house all red faced and cross with me!" Rebecca bit her tongue so hard she thought it might bleed.

"Well you were pedalling that bullshit, Tish. I'm not quite sure what you expected me to say or do?" Rebecca was about to go in again, but was saved by the affable American walking towards her.

"Hey, Becca, your mum said she needs you."

"Thanks Ted."

"Well bullshit or not dear, it looks like it all worked out in the end? What a delightful couple you are!"

"For godsake, why on earth do we keep getting this? Tish, Ted and I are not a couple."

"What on earth do you mean you’re not? Of course you are! The signs are all there - weren’t you listening to me Rebecca, dear?" The elder woman was off, "Of course you weren’t, you were too busy being dismissive of me. If you’d have heard me out then you would have known!"

"The bloody signs? Upside down and drenched? Thunder and lightning? What the fuck was all that supposed to mean?"

"The signs are never crystal clear, Rebecca darling."

"Stop calling me darling, and stop going on about stupid signs that than be manipulated so that even a child can misinterpret them! You were not clear, the signs were not there and I fully maintain that you are a fucking fraud." The woman's eyes widened as Rebecca grew more venomous.

"I… I.. I'll leave you to it."

"You do that, Tish. And if you come near me again with anymore of your bullshit you will fucking regret it." Tish fumbled her way away from Rebecca,

"Hey now, what was all that about?" Ted asked, his voice laced with concern.

"My mother needs me, does she not?"

"Yeah, yeah she does. I tell you what, you sort out Debs, and I'll be waiting here with more wine and you can tell me all about poor Tish."

"There's no such thing as poor Tish, Ted." Rebecca rolled her eyes but did as Ted asked.

By the time her mother's garden party was winding down, Rebecca was certain Ted would have gone home. He'd been long abandoned after all. Instead, as she entered the conservatory, she saw him sitting and talking with the somewhat unusual combination of Tish and the local vicar.

"I'm just leaving dear, no need to snap my head off again." Tish sighed, collecting her bag.

"I need to be off as well," the vicar smiled, "may I see you out, Tish?" They both said their goodbyes and left Rebecca and Ted alone. He handed her a large glass of wine.

"Spill, Faith Hill." Her anger dissipated, Rebecca sat down heavily.

"It's nothing, Ted. Just a wild misunderstanding between a skeptic and a fraudulent psychic."

"Well that's the best kind, please go on." She settled back in the chair alongside him,

"If you insist. I went to see Tish months ago, at my mother's insistence. The reading was… not successful. She made all sorts of ridiculous claims that have not and will not come true. It was a shambles, and I felt humiliated."

"What were the claims?"

"Umm, the first one was about a green matchbook. Which, at first, I took to mean the one from Sam's restaurant." She looked a little ashamed.

"You mean, this one?" Ted pulled it from his pocket, Rebecca stared,

"Yes," she whispered.

"And the next?"

"She said something about a shite in nining armour. Which didn't even make sense, and then I saw John Wingsnight and he used that extract phrase… but otherwise, total horseshit."

"You gotta look at these things a little differently, Becca. It's probably not literal or as clear cut - John used the phrase but he's in the past, Sam gave you the matchbook but he's in your past. Has anyone you know used the phrase correctly when talking to you?" Rebecca wracked her mind,

"Only you," she laughed a little, reminded of the darts game in the pub.

"What else?"

"Thunder and lightning and me."

"Mean anything?"

"Roy told me once that I shouldn't settle for fine, falling in love should feel like being struck by lightning."

"Wise man. Was there anything else?"

"That I would be upside-down and drenched, but safe."

"Well that one's easy, right? Amsterdam and your boat fella?"

"I suppose… but nothing happened?"

"And maybe that's the point? The things you have linked so far, you've linked to exes. Maybe that's the link, these are where you've come from, lightning is where they're leading to?" Rebecca took a long drink of wine and turned to Ted, incredulous.

"Ted, that's insane."

"Is it though? What else links all of those things?" She looked at him intently, her eyes drawn to where their hands were almost touching on the sofa cushions next to her, "go on." He urged.

"You?" She muttered, confused. He bit back a wide grin,

"I have a matchbox like you. I told you I was white knighting. I was with you in Amsterdam, trying to reach you - trying to reach out to you." He explained. "You saw the messages, in the end?" She nodded. "Becca, I know you're sick of everyone assuming that we're a couple. I don't know about you, but all it does is make me wonder why we're not. I'd very much like to kiss you?" She'd already moved closer to him, instinctively and turned to face him.

"Yes, Ted." She breathed, letting him cup her cheek and kiss her softly. She let out a little sigh and he fought the urge to chuckle at her realisation. He broke the kiss first, leaving her still leaning into him. Her eyes grew wide,

"What's up?"

"Lightning."

"Well I'm glad you think so, boss." She beamed at him and reached out to pull him into another kiss. As they sat with their drinks and their thoughts, the sounds from Deborah's garden party reaching the conservatory, she turned to Ted again.

"Feels like I might owe Tish an apology," she murmured. "There was one more prediction though."

"Hmm?" Ted queried, his hand running through her hair as she leaned back into his shoulder.

"She said I'd be a mother. But I can't, I even went to the damn doctor to check." He kissed her temple,

"There're a lot more ways to become a mother honey, did'ya ever think of that?" The tiny gasp let him know that she certainly hadn't.

"Have you got a plus one for the engagement party babes?" Keeley asked from the sofa, sparkly pen in hand.

"Yes please, love. If that's OK. Although, actually it won't make a difference to your numbers."

"You've lost me?"

"Ted will be my plus one."

"Oh that's cute, at least neither of you will be alone." Rebecca frowned, putting down her own notebook.

"Keeley, he's my plus one because he's my plus one?"

"Oh babe, I know. I know. You shouldn't feel like you're doing each other a favour. It's a lovely thing to do for a friend, really."

"You're not understanding me, Ted and I are together?" Keeley stared at her for what felt like an eternity, before breaking out into peals of laughter.

"Oh my god!" She giggled, deliriously, "That's the fucking funniest thing I've ever heard!" Rebecca sat back in her chair and let Keeley laugh and laugh.

"It's true."

"Nahhhh come on? You’ve both been denying it up and down Richmond for ages. We get it, we’ll stop teasing you about it, now you stop bullshitting me."

"I'm not bullshitting you, I promise."

"Yeah, OK babe. Whatevs." Keeley giggled again, waving Rebecca’s comments off. Rebecca rolled her eyes and smiled, leaving her best friend to her ignorance.

"Keeley doesn't believe we're together." She laughed as Ted sat on the bed watching her get ready for the party.

"Aww, poor girl has been burned before." He grinned, watching Rebecca pick out an underwear set.

"I know, but considering how long she's been angling for this-" She'd moved to stand in front of Ted as she spoke and he reached up to undo her towel and let it fall to the floor,

"This? This is what she's been angling for?" He asked, his voice low. Rebecca laughed softly,

"Yes, I think given half a chance this is exactly what Keeley Jones would like."

"She's a woman of exceptional taste." He murmured, looking her over as if he hadn't spent recent weeks learning every inch of her body.

They were predictably late to the party.

"Where have you two been?!"

"Sorry darling, got caught up. You look gorgeous."

"Aww thanks babe, you too. Wow, you look like you've been royally railed though!" Keeley beamed, hugging them both. As she pulled away, she saw the eyebrow wiggle Ted gave Rebecca and froze. "No!"

"I did tell you."

"No!"

"Hate to ruin your chances, Keels." Ted grinned apologetically.

"Who said anything about that?" Rebecca teased, "If I were to ever dip into the lady pool, it would definitely be with Keeley." Keeley watched the conversion back and forth in shock.

"Are you two for real right now?"

"Sure are, Pablo Escobar"

"Really?"

"Really really." The squeal echoed through the venue.

"Oh my godddddd! Roy, Roy babe over here! Ted and Rebecca are together. Like, together together!"

"Fucksake, I just lost 50 quid to Beard."

"I've lost 40 to Bumbercatch."

"100 to Tartt."

"50 to Will."

"I lost to Will too."

"And me."

"And me!"

"I just lost 250 to Higgins." Will grumbled, handing over his accumulated cash.

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #tedbecca #ted and rebecca #ted x rebecca #rebecca x ted #rebecca welton #tedbecca prompt party

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with-pleasure-love-and-kinks · 2 years

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Chapter 1: The New Roommate (Part II)

I took my time in the bathroom mortified by the mockery and humiliation that awaited me outside. I decided to take the time to shave, and kill some more time, maybe JoJo had plans of going out and I could just slink into bed while he was out.

When I finally got out of the bathroom and was ready to face the music instead I walked into a darkened room, and all I heard was some soft snoring. JoJo was balled up on his bed sound asleep. I stuffed my dirty undies at the bottom of my laundry bin, left my deodorant on top of my nightstand in case JoJo went looking again, and attempted to doze off to sleep. After a couple minutes of laying my head on my pillow I decided to assess some damage and scoped out my undies drawer.

Was it weird that I owned so many pairs of underwear? What is a normal amount of underwear? Maybe it’s weird that I fold and organize my undies by brand? Nine pairs of Fruit of the Loom, nine pairs of Hanes, eight pairs of Jockey Y-fronts, four pairs of Nike and two pairs of Calvin Kleins. I decided to un-organize my underwear drawer to make things look more natural.

I woke up before JoJo so I took the time to get dressed and head out of the room. My plan was to avoid JoJo all day, and maybe all week, maybe he would forget, maybe they were folded so neatly he couldn’t tell that they were briefs. I was looking for my keys around the room when I glanced over at JoJo who had begun to stir in his sleep. In his sleep he turned over on his back and slipped off his covers. His semi-hard morning wood was sticking out of the fly opening in his boxers like a literal banana. His dick was long, at least nine inches if not more, and it was decently thick too. I had only ever seen dicks that big in porno’s never in real life. I don’t know how long I had been staring, and I didn’t notice when my dick got hard either, but I couldn’t look away from the enticing view, this was my first time seeing another man’s dick in person. I just wish I could grab it and start sucking it, feel the girth expand in my mouth and get a taste of another man in my mouth.

A harsh gravely voice broke the silence, “do you like what you see?”

I was startled by the voice, I hadn’t noticed when JoJo woke up,”I…I…I didn’t mean to…to…”

JoJo just started laughing, “You’re okay I would probably do the same thing. I know how impressive it looks.”

My face was a flame with cherry red embarrassment, “I’m sorry I just haven’t seen someone so big before.”

JoJo grinned widely, “Aww, thank you, but now this means we need to be even.” His smile grew with malicious intensity.

“Even?” I stuttered.

“Yes, even. You’ve seen mine, but now I need to see yours.” He pointed at my crotch directly, I still had a semi, and I couldn’t let him see that, he would certainly think I was a creeper. He charged at me, when I noticed I bolted for the door. I thought I had cleared out of the room safely but I felt a familiar tug on my waistband.

I stopped dead in my tracks, I didn’t want him to get a reminder of my choice in underwear. “Please, don’t pull,” I pleaded defeatedly.

JoJo boasted, “Ah-hah, I see you still fear my amazing wedgie skills. Good, goooood.”

My voice was almost cracking as I spoke, “do I have to show you my dick?”

“No, only if you want to,” JoJo answered as his tone quickly dropped to a more compassionate tone.

My dick was no longer semi hard, but now he would find out my other secret. “I’m not gifted like you are, I’m not big down there.”

He let go of my underwear and turned me around to face him, “I’m not gonna force you to flash me, this is just how I was used to messing around with my old friends on the baseball team.”

I pulled away from JoJo as I spoke, “I was never really included in all of that horseplay and camaraderie, remember?”

“I always tried my best to include you, I even invited you to my birthday last year despite having not seen you for months,” JoJo spoke while reaching out and laying his hand on my shoulder.

“I thought the invite was just out of courtesy.”

“Nah, you were one of my favorite team mates, and I really missed having you on the team our senior year.”

“Yeah, well you know I wasn’t well received by the team when I finally came out at the end of our junior season. The coaches even wanted me to use the regular locker room instead of the team locker room, and I wasn’t going to let them isolate me more than what I already felt.”

JoJo’s head dropped down before speaking, “I one-hundred percent understand what you mean, I came out mid season our senior year, and I noticed no one would undress while I was in the locker room, but I made the decision that that would be their problem to deal with, not mine.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, my eyes widened, my ears perked, and I couldn’t help but reveal my eagerness as I spoke, “you’re gay too?”

“Yeah, look,” he pulled my face close and kissed me on the lips. “See?”

What just happened? “I…I…”

Freddie held me in his embrace, “don’t be afraid Freddie.”

“I…I…” I was still speechless, so I did the only thing I could, I pulled down my pants and undies to show JoJo my dick. He looked down at my little softy.

“It’s adorable!” JoJo gasped.

I could not decipher if JoJo was being sincere or not. “Okay don’t mock me about it, this was really hard to do.”

“I’m not mocking, I like guys with small dicks,” he said while twirling my flaccid dick between his two fingers.

I started blushing hard, pulled up my pants and undies, and headed out the door. I had a list of errands I needed to do before the first day of the semester tomorrow. First I had to go to the mall and shop for some more clothes, along with some new underwear. I bought a couple new outfits to hold me over through the first week of school, but I got hung up in the underwear section. I had only ever worn briefs, and never once considered any of the other options; boxers, boxer briefs, trunks. So many cuts, brands, materials, and patterns. Out of frustration I grabbed a pack of Hanes boxers, the same ones that JoJo seems to like wearing. Next, I had to buy some snacks to keep around the room and in my backpack. Lastly, I had to go for a run, running clears my mind, and I needed it after that eventful morning. I parked my car in my campus parking spot and I changed into my white gym shorts and black running shirt in the back seat of my car and went for a run down by the beach. I ran for about forty minutes and worked up a sweat before heading back to my dorm and JoJo.

I walked in and saw JoJo sitting at his computer desk still in his boxers, but it was a slightly different blue pair of boxers. I put down all my bags before greeting JoJo, “hey, what did you do all day.”

JoJo swiveled his chair to face me, “I sat here and waited for you.”

“What? Why?” I felt accosted.

“You took my car keys with you,” he said while pointing to the black Adidas hoodie I was wearing this morning.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I accidentally grabbed your jacket in my hurry to get out,” I hadn’t realized how similar our hoodies looked until I had already reached the first store thirty plus minutes away.

“Yeah, when you ran away, again.”

“How about I give you some snacks to make up for it.” I tossed a pack of Twinkies at him but he looked away as soon as I threw them, so they hit him square in the face.

“What the hell.” He quickly darted up and rushed me into a corner. “Why did you hit me in the face?”

“It was an accident!” i exclaimed while shooting my arms up to block his advancements in a poor show of timid cowardice.

He had me pressed against the wall when I felt a breeze between my thighs. He pantsed me while I had my eyes closed, and I quickly tried to pull up my shorts to hide my briefs but he was stepping on them to prevent me from doing so. I pulled down his boxers hoping this would distract him and give me a chance to pull up my shorts. His dick flopped in my face as his boxers slipped down, even fully soft he was still over six inches. I pulled my shirt down to cover my tighty whities in a last ditch effort.

JoJo stared at me inquisitively, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you covering yourself like that? If your plan was to hide your briefs you’re too late, II already knew you wore tighty whities, you even went running in white shorts so I bet everyone could see your white brief lines.”

“Oh-” I was speechless, the thought had never occurred to me.

JoJo pulled my shirt over my head and I felt spun around. I knew what was coming but my arms were tangled in my shirt. I felt his hand on my lower back grabbing at my waistband and soon after tugging my undies deeper and deeper inside me. I threw my shirt off and through the mirror I saw myself lifted off the ground and bounced by my tighty whities. Each bounce wedged my undies deeper and deeper, and the fabric of my briefs stretched further and further. JoJo threw me on his bed and quickly walked around and continued to pull my undies. I was dragged across the bed and my face was now pressed right against his floppy flaccid dick. But he kept pulling, and pulling, eventually I felt my waistband slap against my eyebrows, and only then did JoJo stop. My upper back and ass never felt closer as my tighty whities scrunched me up. When I stood up and pulled my wedgie out my stretched out briefs had no elasticity left and they fell to my ankles.

We both stood there naked, panting, and staring at each other. I wanted to throw him down on the bed and hold his warmth in my arms. I wanted to kiss him from head to toe, and all up his big dick. I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me, but I wanted him to make the first move. Unfortunately he made no move and neither did I. After an intense stare down he hurriedly grabbed his underwear and locked himself away in the bathroom. I got dressed and decided I would get to sleep before he got out of the bathroom.

Does JoJo like me the way I like him? If he did he would’ve had his way with me already. Clearly it’s my looks or my social awkwardness. I guess I could’ve made the first move, but I have to face the facts; I’ve never been the type to make a move. The semester hasn’t even started and I already feel like I’ve ruined my semester of living with JoJo.

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

Of all the things you’ve wrote, “Waking Up” was my absolute favorite. It blew me away, omg it’s just so goooood 😩😭🤩😃😁

Can you write a continuation? 🥺

🥺 I’m so glad you enjoyed! I absolutely loved Waking Up as well, and I’ve wanted to write a continuation. This is just fluffity fluff, and isn’t very long at all, but I hope you still enjoy! My novel is done now, so I’m doing my best to get back into the groove of writing.

Sorry I took so long to answer. I hope I do your idea justice! Thank you so much!

Continued from here.

CW//Paralysis

From months of stillness to hours of chaos.

That was where Villain had gone. As traumatizing, as horrid, as torturous as the Chronic Behavior Issues Ward was, the greatest agony it could offer was boredom. A carefully-mixed cocktail of stimulants and sedatives ensured that those human statues held within the Ward’s walls could not so much as escape into sleep. Their days were spent in agonizing wakefulness, and their nights in forced, unrestful slumbers.

The very instant they had been torn out of it, they could hardly so much as remember what boredom felt like. It was awfully hard to, after all, when you were thrown in the backseat of a car during a high-speed chase through intersections and interstates.

Nurse’s jailbreak had far from gone over well-- most jailbreaks didn’t. Yet, through some mix of luck and desperation, they had managed to flee the building and find their vehicle.

Through the streets of Metropolis, they had stepped on the gas, jerking the steering wheel wildly in an unwise attempt to stay ahead.

And, they had won. Though those in pursuit likely could have caught up to Nurse, had they truly tried, it would mean disrupting traffic, causing a scene, and the heroes would never dare risk their PR. That was what had saved them. PR.

“We’re home, now. We’re safe.”

Nurse’s voice dribbled with exhaustion as they practically stumbled through a doorway, into a small, yet cozy bedroom. A single bed was settled against the back wall, with a compact, plywood wardrobe in a corner.

In their arms, Villain hung limply, body occasionally twitching as they spontaneously remembered that they had the newfound ability to move.

It was with an almost indescribable level of care that they were placed upon the bed, exhausted limbs sinking into the box spring mattress. They could hardly force themself to stay awake, then. Comfort washed over them with the same level of gentleness as a tsunami.

“You’re going to be okay.” Nurse whispered, soft hands brushing Villain’s overgrown bangs from their eyes. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

They disappeared from Villain’s line of sight only briefly, only to gather a bulky pile of fabric from a drawer of the wardrobe. With a flourish, it was draped over the bed, encompassing the villain in a new level of warmth.

A weighted blanket, identical to that which they had had at the Ward. The simple piece of fabric that they had derived so much comfort from in the past month.

“We’re going to be safe here.” Nurse stood over the bed, staring down with an exhausted, yet gentle smile, as they had done so many times before. “I promise. This is my home. You’re going to get better.

Do you need anything? Want anything? Water? I don’t know if you’re well enough to eat normally just yet, but it’s worth a try.”

Villain stared up at them with eyes wider than dinner plates.

Over the few days that Nurse had been working with the villain, they had recovered some modicum of movement from their days of being a statue. First, it was only blinking, only twitching and curling of digits. Over time, however, more functions had been returned to them. Turning their head, moving their limbs, and even making the slightest of sounds. They could communicate, now. They could be understood.

They could tell Nurse what they wanted, what they needed. Their throat was parched, their stomach revolting after a missed meal of nutrient mash. Yet, they could not bring themself to ask for food or drink. Not yet. Through the combination of the bed and the blanket, they were certain that they were mere moments away from passing out.

For the first time in ages, Villain was more comfortable than they could describe. They could already feel their eyes drifting closed.

With great effort, they moved their head side to side-- No. No drink. No food. With their luck, they would fall asleep halfway through swallowing.

“Okay.” Nurse sighed. “You must be exhausted. Are you comfortable? Food and water can come later, when you wake up. We can try some bread, maybe. It’ll be nice and gentle on your stomach.

I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I know you’re tired. Do you want to sleep?”

A silent nod. Nurse gave a soft smile as they drifted over to the side of the bed, kneeling down so they were at eye level with Villain.

As they spoke, a soft hand brushed through the villain’s hair.

“It’s going to be hard. The next few days. Or weeks. Or months. It’s going to be hard. But you’re never going back there. I promise you that. Never. You’ll never even have to look at that building again.

The others. We’ll get the others, too. We’ll save all of them.

But for now, let’s just focus on sleep and bread. Sleep and bread.

Goodnight, Villain.”

“Goodnight.”

#villain whumpee #nurse caretaker #whump #Whumper #whump community #whumpblr #whumpee #hero x villain #hero villain whump #villain whump

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imo-chan-imagines · 3 years

Text

『 As your boyfriend | BNHA Headcanons 』

From the good, to the bad, to the downright adorable.

Characters: female!reader, Aizawa Shouta

Tags/warnings: Boku No Hero Academia (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, smut, fluff, soft dom Aizawa, relationship, headcanons

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Right, so I'm simping for this man biG TIME, but I'm only on season 3, so no spoilers or anything, please. This is my first BNHA post (and it turned out way longer than I was intending 😅) Please let me know if you want more in the future!

Also, I have a repetitive strain injury, so typing stuff is taking a while at the moment. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ ~Imo

☆ Aizawa Shouta ☆

I'm not going to lie. Shouta can be a big ol' grouchy pants sometimes, and it's basically impossible to win an argument against him makes you want to tear your hair out, sometimes

But most of the time, he's just tired and in pain, and he doesn't mean to be so crotchety

He's not the type to make excuses, though. That's childish. He means his apologies, even if they're simple

He'll normally initiate an apology by gently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his forehead on your shoulder 🥺

Physical contact is incredibly personal and intimate for him. He doesn't just touch anyone, or allow them to touch him

You're special 💞💫

Soft, gentle touches, like his fingers interlacing with yours, or his leg brushing up against you, are basically his way of saying 'I love you'

Catch me crying in the corner, a'ight? 😔

He rarely ever raises his voice. Like, ever he doesn't need to, and is aware that it can be scary

He's definitely the kind of guy to forget to tell people that you're dating, simply because he doesn't see how it's relevant or anyone else's business 🤦‍♀️

I mean, he ain't wrong, but–

And his mood switches between 'antisocial' and 'clingy' like a mechanical metronome did someone say 'cat'?

Sometimes, you'll be lucky if he speaks more than three words to you together in a whole day nothing personal 🤷‍♀️

But on other days, he literally won't let you out of his arms for the world he's complicated, okay?

You have missed many a parcel delivery because he wouldn't let you get up from his lap to answer the door 🙄😂

Boundaries and responsibilities are key and highly respected by Shouta, and he would NEVER erase your quirk without your permission, unless he literally had no other choice like someone's going to get hurt, or something

Is generally quite serious so what's new? but you're one of the few people he can relax around when he feels like it

9/10 of his jokes are dad jokes 😎 hell yeah

Takes a hard stance in financial debates, but is constantly broke af 😶 says he'll buy you dinner and presents you with some instant noodles with a 'Reduced To Clear' sticker on them

Will take a bite of your food/steal some off your plate without asking, and literally say nothing to defend himself #gremlin

Is incredibly shy and uncomfortable about being ~le horny~ until you've been together for literally forever

Even then, he's still shy about it when he has to bring it up and it's pretty cute, let me tell ya

It took him forever to admit to you that he gets turned on when you eat ice lollies

Guess what you do whenever you want to mess with him like a little brat 😛

But if he's in the mood, he will 100% whisper something dirty in your ear, even if you're completely alone and probably well past third base

He does it because he knows your pussy will clamp around him at the sound of his voice 😳🥵

*fans self profusely*

Genuine, unadulterated smiles are rare with Aizawa, but when he does 🙌 Heaven hath opened its gates and allowed an angel walk amongst mere mortals 🥺🤧

If he lays his head on your chest, he will fall asleep like that *snaps fingers*

Surprise nose and forehead kisses to show he loves you ❤

Calls you 'Kitten' this is basically already canon at this point

And he's all about those deep talks with you at 3 am when he can't sleep

Speaking of insomnia!

It's cheesy, but you're like a soothing balm. The warmth of your body makes him feel safe, your touch helps him relax, and your voice soothes him to sleep

He's never slept as well as when you're beside him 😭🤧

When cuddling, he likes to be the big spoon but will accept being the little spoon if you if you press your boobs against his back and ask really nicely 🤭

And he loves you stroking his hair and running your fingers through it 🥺

Netlix nights and pillow/blanket forts!!

Rainy days are a godsend. Staying inside all day under the blankets, with the soft sound of the rain falling outside and no-one to interrupt you – literal paradise

He makes mean hot cocoas and Irish coffees 😋 I feel like this man lives off Irish coffees 😂🤣

Wears a lot of black and grey sweatpants at home 😗 which highlight the outline of his dick just right, if ya know what I'm sayin' 👀

Doesn't like going out for dates and prefers staying inside and doing stuff together same, honeyy

But if you really like going out, he will somewhat begrudgingly agree to it and get all dressed up for you, just so long as he gets his fair share of home-dates, too 🤗

But if you also don't like going out... the two of you will basically never leave the house, except to get groceries in your pyjamas from the 24-hour convenience store down the road at one in the morning oddly specific, I know, but you get me

And sorry, but I don't make the rules

Well, actually, I do. But shush

We all know that Shouta cleans up *chef's kiss* So when you go somewhere ~fancy~ he always looks so damn fine 😩

But he has very little idea that he's hot he sees himself as a tired, walking dumpster fire🚶‍♂️🔥

Shouta will 100% turn into a crazy cat dude with 15+ cats if you don't stop him I never said you should, though 🙃

And is a 'minimalist texter' – basically, if he can't answer a text with 'yes', 'no,' 'maybe', or 'OK', then he probably won't answer it at all 😭😂

Especially if you try and sext him or send him your nudes while he's at work. He'll probably lecture you when he gets home and depending on just how much you turned him on, he might proceed to teach you a lesson...

But wear his shirt, and just his shirt or his hoodie and he's yours

Heart eyes, motherfucker 😍

And, depending on how you two are feeling that day, you may or may not end up getting dicked down on the nearest semi-flat surface right then and there 👀

But don't misunderstand. This is an incredibly tired man you have here, and his libido actually isn't through the roof sorry, ladies so this kind of thing isn't an everyday occurrence

But when he dicks you down, he dicks you down goooood

Shouta's not big on PDA, but makes up for it in private. We're talking hands and kisses all over your body he leaves nothing unloved 😏

And while he's not big on PDA, he is big on sneaky displays of affection or 'SDA', as I like to call it

Like subtly grabbing your butt for a second, or his hand on your thigh under the table at a dinner etc. especially around other people

But what really gets him going is slowly removing your clothes and taking you fully naked, spreading your legs wide and holding them open he likes the view 😍

He lowkey highkey worships your body 🙏 and will literally not shut up about how fucking pretty you are, and how fucking good it feels inside you his words, not mine 😳

Groans and growls a little when he's getting close/cumming especially when he's being a little rough and likes to cum together, but knows it's not always practical

He tends to be a gentle dom, but can get just a teensy bit 🤏 rough if he's too into it – but nothing outrageous

We're talking rough thrusts and a brutal pace, maybe holding onto you a little too hard and, waaahh, he gets so embarrassed if he leaves bruises

Is also into a little bondage, but again, only light stuff – restraining your wrists with his hands or his tie or his Capturing Weapon 👀 maybe blinding-folding you if you're okay with it

If you're not blindfolded, then I'm afraid he's all about that eye contact

Eating out your pussy? Eye contact. Pounding you into the mattress? Blazing eye contact. Rearranging your guts in front of the mirror? Fucking eye contact

And CONSENT, BABY. THAT'S WHAT HE'S FUCKING INTO 😌🙌💞

But all jokes aside – he's too used to taking without consent with his quirk, that he's kind of paranoid about it comes to sex but it's adorable and sweet, and honestly, still kind of hot

And speaking of eating pussy – goddamn does he like to please you. Like cream to a kitty 😛

Oh, and he just loves it when you suck on his fingers as he's pounding into you 🤤

And he likes to leave love bites in personal, inconspicuous places and sometimes on your neck

He's marking his woman 😌

When he gets suuuper horny, he likes to fuck you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror. It's a specific kink he has of watching himself stretch you out as the length of his cock disappears inside you...

I can get behind that, lemme tell yaaa

I said he tends to be dominant, but female doms – fear not!

Shouta is quite flexible when it comes down to it and is kind of lazy, lmfao so he definitely has time for laying back, having the control taken away, and having his dick ridden

For him, it's really all about communication and what you're both comfortable with

I will say this, though: sometimes, his cat watches you while you're banging 😅😂

The first time it happened, you freaked out and refused to continue because – how could you??? But eventually, you just kind of got used to it 🤷‍♀️

The same way you've got used to it following you to the bathroom every time you go to take a shit 😭

So now, you just kind of laugh about it, which helps keep things a little lighter 🤗

After sex, he does like to snuggle, but you'll be lucky if he stays awake for more than 30 seconds it's one of the few times he actually can sleep well

If you're ever out and about, or even inside, and cold, he'll wrap you up in his clothes/scarf/blanket like a sushi roll like Eren wrapping up Mikasa in his scarf, all deadpan and everything 😐

It's not that often, but when he gets drunk, he gets all soft and emotional, and starts babbling about how he can't believe he got so lucky to be dating you, and that he's sure he hasn't done anything to deserve it mah heart

He's pretty sure he wants kids, but he doesn't feel like now is the right time, and is lowkey afraid that it's never going to feel like the right time

He also constantly doubts himself, wondering if he'd actually able to look after them and protect them the way a father should class 1-A got him second-guessing himself 🥺

Besides, it's not all about him. You clearly have a say in it too, and he doesn't want to force you into anything

Again: communication and comfort zones

Dating Aizawa definitely has its ups and downs, and it's not smooth sailing, but he's prepared to work for a life with you because he's found a connection with you that he hasn't feel with anyone else

He knows that you're both far from perfect, but hopes that, for once, you might just make something good, and make it last 🥰😇

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storge · 3 years

Note

hi! i’m new to cdramas and honestly don’t know where to start. i was wondering if you have any recs, it can be any genre, ongoing or not too. thanks so much!

Hello friend!!! 💖💖💖💖 Ahhhhhhh okay sorry this took so long to answer. I go blank when people ask me to rec things. Let’s seeeeeeee..... I will give you 3 types of drama areas (85% of these are very popular and are at the top of MDL list for cdramas so sorrryyyyy I’m not original. I am a simple woman that watches wtver grabs me. Also plss try not to judge dramas too harshly by their synopsis on MDL lol.)

This came out longer than I intended so under the cut:

1) Short Less than 35 Eps. (95% romance)

The Romance of Hua Rong- I love this little one. Its cute and funny. People get annoyed by FL but I rather like her and don’t mind her voice. ANDDDD the ML is hot as alll everrrrr. its fun delciousnesssss and there is a supposed Season 2.

Fake Princess- a GEMMM. It’s cute and funny. The FL is great and the plot is pretty good.

Maiden Holmes- Nice little youngins and their found family. Both main and 2nd couple are very cuteeeee.

One and Only- Okay loook, It’s a heartbreaker but it’s sweeeet and there is a sequel coming out to mend your heart.

Put your head on my shoulder- they cuteeee and not dramatic.

The Eternal Love (S1,2,3)- Never gonna give you up type of couple. Cute, funny, and they have good chemistry

When a Snail fall in Love- Its a little gem. Deserves to be at least tried.

Hikaru No go- FRIENDSHIPPPP. RIVALRY. CHU YINGGGGG. one of the best live action related ones Ive seen.

Killer and Healer- Republican "bromanceeee”. Angsty and simple but deliciousnessss. + Painnnnn

QIng Luo- A nice little b-cdrama. Its cute. The cast is pretty good. couple is great.

Dating in the Kitchen- Age gap. They are cute, funny, and have chemistry.

2) Historical setting “more serious”

Nirvana in Fire- it's just GOOODD

Monarch industry (The Rebel Princess)- GOOOOOOD. IT’S a MUST try imo. the couple is everythinggggg

The Rise of Phoenixes- Rip you heart, a little messsy, but goo00od and chen kun loong lockssssss like hellooooo

The Story of the Yanxi Palace - WOMENNNN and GOOOD

Legend of Ruyi- WOMENNN + beautiful clothing + straight up SHADINEESSS but soo gooood

Goodbye My Princesss- PAINNNNN but Good. Great FL and ML.... but I’m ngl you are gonna wanna go 9 rounds in the ring with the ML.

Ever Night- YOUNGINS with a hard knock life. goooood. The romance is a you like it or don’t but good regardless.

Joy of Life- GOOOD. Almost everyone I know seen it. (I liked it less as it got towards the end but that’s just meeeee)

Secret of the three kingdoms- A gooodieee

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty- A gooodieee. a “bromanceeee”. foood is a languageeee.

Story of the Minglan- goooood. more like slice of life?

The longest day of Chang’an- its goooood and its pretty.

3) Random Dramas that are 50+ eps that don’t really fit other 2 but are very well liked.

Under the Power- okay a lot of people have seemingly not watched this, but its nice, funny at times, and has a some depth. the FL is Great and yeahhh just try it.

Meteor Garden- (2018 version) It’s the F4 that you probably know of from the other countries. The new one is better than what I thought it would be.

Go ahead- Everyone I know love lovedddd this. I don’t like childhood besties to lovers trope so i dropped it but that’s just me. From what I saw its goood.

The Legends/Arsenal Military Academy- Bai Lu and Xu Kai are just deliciousnessssss. The dramas are perfectly fine, but these 2 chemistry are worth watching them.

The Untamed- Come onnnnnnnnn. If you have even looked at cdrama tumblr you have seen thissssss. It really is worth EVERY BIT.

Love and Redemption- deep love + PAINNNN + tropeeessss + chengyi you make pain look delicioussssss + happy ending

Love better than Immortality- I feel shamed if I don’t include long haired Hong yi. Friend its not the best, but the plot works and the couple is deliciousnesssss. and cheatingggg but its only 40 eps.

Ashes of love- another everyone watcher. This drama got my mother back into cdramas so yeahhhh, try it lololol.

Only a few of these are in a Modern setting... sorry, it’s just not what I watch and enjoy mostly. I tried to be broad with the choices. I’ve seen all of these but 1. If you like any of these I can probably rec something close to it. And If you tried these and think they are all terrible than I’m sorry I got your hopes up.😅😅😅😅

#thanks for asking me friend!!!!#this seems long but i literally had to trim it #i talk to much I know i knoowwwwww #so many better dramas I missed but heyyyyyy i never promised taste #some of these I have no idea why they popped in my head but i just HAD to add them ololol #anywaysss #cdrama #*recs #*no anons only friends #words

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.10

...and Drink It with Gusto

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve’s a bit difficult (poor baby), not that anyone blames him. Sam Wilson makes a confession – sort of.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanism, sad sad Steeb

A/N: dropping the chapter early, because I won’t have time to post for a bit

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The mission hadn’t been a shitshow, surprisingly enough, but the reports to Fury had been. Natasha had spent the rest of the day, whole night and a better portion of the next day at the SHIELD HQ, having to deal with everything, because Stark had quite literally fled. To be fair, he had at least taken care of Steve’s still unconscious and very much muscular (read ‘really fucking heavy’) form.

Tired and annoyed, Natasha finally landed with small jet at the Tower, making her way to her room, wishing nothing more but to shower and get some fucking sleep.

Of course, walking through the common room, she should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

She heard his icy yet somewhat cheery voice before she even saw him and it made her stop in her tracks, dreading facing him. She was too tired for his reproaches now.

“AH! There she is!”

Natasha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and mentally counting to three.

“Here’s ‘ur soulmate ex-pert!” Steve howled again, making her heart clench.

Black Widow was not a coward, but neither her nor Natasha liked dealing with feelings too directly – the jet was enough to get her fill for several years prior. She scanned the room before she would settle on him – and sure enough, she and Steve weren’t alone.

Bruce was standing indecisively by the door, torn and helpless expression on his face, his eyes one big question mark, asking Natasha how the hell he was supposed to deal with that.

Good question, Bruce, good question.

The smell of booze and Steve’s demeanour were unmistakable, but she silently asked anyway.

“Is he…?”

“Yeah. He… uhm… he found Thor’s stash,” the scientist answered her in equally hushed voice, inconspicuously pointing towards the counter where three flasks lay, emptied. Jesus.

Steve apparently heard and saw them anyway, because his voice bellowed again in reaction to their conversation. His words were slurred.

“Goooood friend Thor. Thou’ he t’ied to take my g’l. Nooot a g’d friend. Baaaad, bad friend.”

“Oh bozhe moy…” Natasha whispered under her breath and Steve turned to her, looking almost excited to see her.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t look like absolute shit. He had a t-shirt stained with the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed, bruise-like dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for a year.

She hadn’t thought he could get worse than in the quinjet. Clearly, she was wrong.

“’tasha! Greeeeat ‘dvice you gave me,” he exclaimed, trying to rise from his spot on the couch where he had been half-lying like a dead fish casted ashore.

Natasha resisted the urge to massage her temples as the headache started to build. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the audible edge to his voice, the accusation glaring at her from his eyes.

“Steve…”

He finally stumbled to his feet and she noticed another flask secured in his right hand. He held it out as if he was pointing at her.

“Tried wat’ you s-said. Hurts,” he hiccupped, the sound blending with a sob. He cleaned his nose with the back of his hand hastily. “S-saw her grave. Fuck it hurts… ‘dis thing’s good ‘ough.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. She didn’t need to call anyone for advice now. Her friend was shitfaced. The only thing she could do was to get him to bed and try not to antagonize him or trigger something worse than… whatever this was. She wasn’t sure if moving on from being snowed under work – voluntarily – was more or less healthy than drinking himself into oblivion. But she counted any change that wasn’t a step towards a suicide (possibly assisted by the last of Hydra goons) like a progress.

“Is he drunk?” Tony’s incredulous voice ringed from the doorway and Natasha didn’t even bother spinning on her heels to him, hearing him enter and close the distance between them as he stopped at her side. “Cap?”

Blood froze in Natasha’s veins and she was swift to call out, but it was too late. “No- don’t call-!”

So much for not triggering him and making it worse. She could see how he suddenly stood straighter as if he swallowed a wooden ruler, and an indefinable expression appeared on his face.

She gulped in anticipation of a storm.

“Cap!” he called out, mimicking Tony and the billionaire realized his mistake, judging by the silent dammit that left his lips. Steve raised the flask in a mock toast, turning around and nearly tipping over his feet. “Captain ‘merica! What a heeero! Cheers to him!” He took a long sip before continuing, his gestures animated. “Swin’ in, safe th’m all! Kill his g’l, why ‘ven care… hero, murd’r, potato, tomatho…” his voice slurred into a murmur, until he spotted a newcomer and came to life again. “Ah! Hey, Clint!”

Clint was quick to understand the situation and it took one glance at Natasha for them to agree what needed to be done. He approached Steve cautiously with his features emotionless.

“We should get you to bed-“

“Nope! No!” Steve howled instantly, taking several steps backwards to get out of Clint’s reach. His expression was dark, tears welling in his eyes. “Smell like h’r. Not ‘nymore. Hurts!” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, his figure swaying dangerously as he closed his eyes and lost the visual control of his balance. “Hurts!”

“Come on, Steve…” Clint coaxed him gently, attempting to close the distance between them again. His gaze flickered to Bruce and Tony and they took few steps towards Steve as well.

“Nope! Gotta-ta sssay sm’thin’!” Christ, Natasha had never seen him like this and she wanted to bleach both her eyes and ears. He pointed the flask at Clint resolutely. “You knew. You warn h’r. Fuck-fuck up. Shouldva told- I ain’t gettin’ killed. I kill h’r.”

“Steve…” Natasha approached him as well, grimacing when she saw the flash of emotion on Clint’s face.

Steve spun to her immediately, this time accusing her. “And you! Gooood job. Pushin’ us togthe’. You kill h’r too.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Tony snapped at him, running out of patience, but Natasha knew Steve didn’t quite mean it. Pushing them together wasn’t her fault – the fact she had tranquilized him was her sin and she was aware he had the right to be mad at her.

“Your friggin’ ‘stem! You too- n’t fly fast ’nough!“

“Steve, you’re wasted. You’re going to bed before you say more things you regret,” Bruce said calmly after Steve managed to finish his roll and blame another person.

Bruce speaking up gave the captain a pause and he looked like his brain froze. His brows knitted together and he nodded, another sob erupting from his throat, his inhale shaking his whole being as he crossed the distance to Bruce, murmuring.

“Regert. Her. My folt, no yours. Kill h’r. Miss her. Shouldva s-s-saved her. Pick h’r… love h’r. Hurts. Hurts s’much…”

Steve’s large frame enveloped Bruce, resting his whole impressive weight on him. The scientist was nearly tripped over – except a hint of green flushed his neck, Hulk coming to rescue before the other men and Natasha rushed to help. Steve went completely limp, the flask falling to the ground, the little liquid remaining in it spilling and staining the carpet. No one cared as they tried to support the supersoldier’s goo-like body, exchanging desperate glances.

“Well, that was… enlightening,” Tony summarized, his poor attempt at joke that not even he apparently believed in barely gaining any reaction.

Clint sighed. “Please, this is hardly any news. We knew he blamed himself.” He readjusted Steve’s arm he had slung around his shoulders and Tony’s right side of suit came to the rescue, taking most of the weight off from the billionaire. “I hate this, but I think he needs this.”

Natasha wasn’t so sure about that, but yeah, Steve definitely needed to start accepting the reality. It was probably a natural reaction to want to dull the pain with something else when work was off limits. She pressed her lips together as their whole grouped slowly made their way to Steve’s room.

“Let’s just get him to bed.”

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Not many people could probably brag they had Black Widow’s number. Well, probably no one could, because if they told a living soul, they’d meet their end. So Sam Wilson didn’t brag. And he sure as hell didn’t call her first.

That said, he did not hesitate when she called him with location and time to meet, no greeting, no goodbye. Rude, but he’d take it. He had more than one reason, not that he would advertise it.

So there he was, sipping coffee from a take-away cup as he sat in Central Park with Black Widow, both of them having the best super-spy disguise; sunglasses and baseball caps.

The silence between them was getting awkward and Sam couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“Well, this is much more… civil than our last meeting,” he noted casually, hating to admit he was… nervous.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Ms.Romanoff hummed back, sipping her latté.

“Guess I wouldn’t expect that…”

He didn’t expect her to face him either but she did, a reminiscence of a sad smile gracing her lips. The warmth around his heart was familiar and not entirely unwelcomed. He found himself longing after seeing her whole face.

“I’m saying thank you, though.”

Huh.

“Didn’t expect that either,” he admitted and one corner of her lips rose higher in a smirk. Sam had a hunch she loved surprising people – or rather shocking them. “How did it go?”

She huffed out a sound that could only mean frustration and Sam grimaced. Confrontation usually didn’t go very good, but this sounded awful.

“That well, huh?”

“No, no…” she shook her head, red curls swaying around her head elegantly. “He’s… an asshole. He fell asleep on a mission. In a cockpit. When he was piloting. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but God bless Stark’s inventions and auto-piloting,” she grunted and removed the cap of her cup before taking a long sip of her coffee.

She seemed to be gathering thoughts. Sam might not be able to see her eyes, but he did learn to read people. She didn’t like talking about feelings, but she was making an exception. Whether it was because of him, because of his job or because she wished to help her friend so badly, that remained a mystery. Either was pleasing though, the action itself intriguing Sam.

He had given her a lot of thought after their first unconventional meeting. He could not get her out of his head and for a good reason, of course.

He came to a conclusion that… despite her manners, she probably wasn’t a bad person. There were rumours about her past, but everyone had one. She was with the Avengers now, getting clean and the present and willingness to fix mistakes often mattered more than what had been done – especially when it came to a past like her own. Sam had made living by helping people dealing with their past actions and failures; judging her would be a hypocrisy and as far as he knew, he was a killer too. And if it came to it, he would punch, sliced or shot his way out again.

“It’s just… he’s… he’s really at the bottom,” she Natasha spoke softly, emotions lacing her voice. Regret. Compassion. Helplessness. Sam knew all those too well. “Seeing him going from one mission to another just to pass out in exhaustion was bad enough, because I knew it was wrong, but… seeing him drink himself into oblivion? One time only, but it was a nightmare. And seeing Steve doing nothing? Struggling to find a purpose, himself… that’s just…”

“It sucks. But he has a good friend in you. He needs time.”

“I know that, it’s… I wish there was someone hurting him so I could just punch them in their face and call it a day. But that one guy blew himself to hell and the others just… don’t really matter, getting them doesn’t do much help to Steve.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile softly as she said Captain’s name. It held a meaning – he was clearly dear to her and it went way beyond professional relationship. Not that the fact alone that she had shown up at Sam’s apartment the way she had wasn’t enough of an evidence. Not to mention her surprising openness.

“It’s a long way to recovery, Natasha.”

Her first name just slipped past his lips unwittingly, but he didn’t feel like apologizing. The informal space they found themselves in, the honest open conversation… first names suited it better. He was aware he sounded like he was speaking from experience on top of that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. She had done a thorough research on him.

As if she agreed with him feeling his surroundings and the atmosphere, she put away her glasses, her green eyes burning with honesty when she met his – he automatically lost the barrier too, because it felt unjust for her to be left… vulnerable like that.

“I’m truly sorry about poking at your past, Sam,”

Sam felt the last remains of hostility towards her resolve. That apology meant more than he had realized it would.

“Thanks. I get it, you know. Being worried for someone so much… he’s gonna be okay, eventually. Scarred, but okay.”

“He could be better than that…” she sighed, leaning onto the backrest of the bench tiredly.

“What was that?”

“When I confronted him on the plane… he told me he had another words,” she revealed hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure if it was her secret to tell.

Sam’s heart positively stopped. Was she telling the truth or was this a game? Did she know about his own too? He swallowed the panic when he saw her resigned gaze.

She wasn’t playing no game.

“Two soulmates. That’s rare,” he remarked, a lump growing in his throat. His palms started sweating and he hated it. Fortunately, Natasha didn’t seem to notice – or she politely ignored it, her voice dry and laced with a bit of irritation.

“He never wants to meet her.”

“That’s not rare.”

Sam would know. He had struggled with the same feeling, after all. He wanted to forget the world existed. He wanted to live peacefully and alone. It was probably no coincidence fate sent him Black freaking Widow as the one – if she was willing, Sam would not be alone. And definitely wouldn’t get ‘peace’.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wouldn’t be able to say he minded.

“He thinks… he thinks he doesn’t deserve her or something.”

Sam sighed, mentally chuckling at the irony of fate once more. The Universe did have a messed up sense of humour, didn’t it?

“Because he thinks he blew his chance. Because he thinks that he will mess it up again and fail her. And it feels like being unfaithful,” he offered, venting his own feelings for the first time.

He had never told that to anyone, ashamed of the set of words sitting on his other collarbone, appearing shortly after Riley’s death. Why did he tell her of all people? He wanted to question his own actions, he barely knew the woman, but… there was a significant but, wasn’t there?

Her emerald eyes were searching on his face, recognition lighting them up. She fidgeted, something he hadn’t seen her do before and he was sure not many people had either. It was a privilege and while his heart started racing, seeing her nervous eased his own nerves the tinniest bit.

“…yeah. I guess. You… uhm, you dealt with someone like that too?” she asked, looking away, seemingly intrigued by something in the distance.

Sam didn’t buy it and swallowed loudly.

“Just one case in my whole carrier.”

“What did you tell them?” she queried gently, her shoulders tense.

Sam shrugged. He told himself a lot of things, but he wasn’t certain they were all presentable.

“Never figured it out. First, the meeting with his other soulmate was a bit unconventional. He kinda hated her,” he admitted, glancing at her with the corner of his eye. She gave almost an inconspicuous nod, her gaze casted down. She took it as a rejection, he realized. “Then he started thinking and realized she wasn’t too bad. He’s still struggling to make up his mind – whether he should try. Whether she would want to. She would be a catch though, no doubt,” he lighted it up, biting the inside of his cheek right after.

Was he really trying to flirt now?

One corner of her lips rose in a smirk. “Somehow I doubt that. Sounds like a bitch.”

Sam wanted to chuckle at the joke, but then her eyes lifted to him and his heart just… stopped, the amused sound stuck in his throat. He had to clear it to be able to speak up, but it did nothing under the intensity of her gaze.

“Not to me. Not anymore.”

Natasha licked her lips – and Sam would lie if he claimed he did not mirror the motion instinctively – and finished her drink.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, huh? That must have been a pleasant surprise when it appeared,” she stated, a hint of amusement along with relief that the secret, the whatever that had been hanging between them, was finally addressed.

Sam snorted, not necessarily because he found his next statement funny.

“Yeah and I bet growing up in Russia and have an English soulmark must have been walk in a park.”

Good, there was so much sarcasm in his voice he might even feel ashamed. But the redhead – his second soulmate, holy shit, it really happened – didn’t seem to be offended.

“Wow, this almost beats the way Steve met his and that was some story….”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Silence fell on them then, both of them unsure how to continue and where to go from here. They found each other – their other half, supposedly, but no one could tell the outcome.

She was an Avenger. Sam was a therapist, a veteran at ridiculously young age, because he had lost his partner. They had a perfect example of how wrong it could go, served on silver plate – it was how they had met for God’s sake. But once again – Sam would lie when saying he didn’t miss some of the adrenalin. He did. A lot, actually.

The reason he had left the field was his soulmate. Was there any better reason to get back in when the need would rise, than another soulmate?

“Do you want to explore this?” Sam broke the uncomfortable silence, lacking the courage to look at her expression. The tension in her shoulders he could almost feel told him enough. He didn’t want to see her rejection. Did he want to see her agreement though?

“Do you?” she hummed back, staring ahead just like him.

“That’s the million dollar question.”

Riley had been… his everything. But could he ignore something like this? Could he ignore the opportunity, a woman who was no doubt fabulous and he was already finding interesting and that apparently was matching his sense of humour? Did he believe in fate? Did he have the right to try again?

Deep down, Sam knew he had already made his mind about it. Now it only depended on her.

“But I keep telling everyone to move on,” he mused out loud, catching her gaze. “Try to live. Some do. Neither of them had the… advantage of having another soulmate if we can call it that.”

Small smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, new twinkle lighting up her eyes and Sam knew he had made the right decision, no matter the outcome.

He didn’t complain when she rose to her feet to clearly leave though – they had enough to deal with today, they needed more time to think of how to approach this.

“Okay. Okay then… You have my number. Call me,” she offered simply, saying goodbye only with a nod and spun on her heels.

“Oh, I will!”

She casted a flirty grin over her shoulder and Sam found himself smiling.

“Hey, you bowl?” he blurted out the first idea that came to his mind and this time she stopped in her tracks, her smile turning almost wolfish. It might have done a thing to his crotch.

“I do, but you can’t run crying when I beat you!” she smirked and gave him a wink, hips swaying as she left him behind.

His laughter sounded like a soundtrack to her catwalk.

Cheeky lady. Sam kinda liked her.

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Part 11

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Thank you for reading!

We’ll be leaving Stevie next time, coming back to our wayward sons and daughter (...that’s a spn reference, if any non-fan is confused). We’re getting closer, y’all!

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kingfallsamtranscripts2 · 3 years

Text

King Falls AM Episode Twenty-One: Swimmin’ With Kingsie

King Falls AM Transcript

Episode 21: Swimmin’ With Kingsie

Run time: 23:38

First Aired: Mar 1, 2016

Summary: Reverend Xavier Hawthorne unveils his newest plan for King Falls and the boys get a worrisome call from Lake Hatchenaw.

(For a list of characters and references from this episode see the end of this post)

[King Falls AM theme plays, transitioning into mildly creepy piano music]

Commercial: Sometimes in life things don’t go as we have all planned. Sometimes in life it’s easy to get discouraged when plans change. Do you get discouraged when plans change? We don’t. I’m Leland Hill of the Science Institute. Perhaps you’ve heard of us because of the help we do for families and people in need. Locally, globally, internationally. Or maybe you’ve only heard of us because of the suppressive media attacking myself, Science Institute founder Roland Northwoods, and other Science Institute alumni. Or maybe you’re just lost and looking for help in the dark and scary world. Possibly your inner consciousness is reaching out into the unknown, looking for answers. Why are we here? What’s the meaning of life? Why is a medium drink the size of a small bucket at fast food restaurants? Whatever you seek, just know, the Science Institute can help you. We want to help you. We will help you. We are here, King Falls.

[King Falls theme plays]

Sammy: The Science Institute? Really?

Ben: Keeps the lights on, Sammy.

Sammy: You’d think they could get one of their Hollywood brainwashed pals to at least read their propaganda instead of the ghoulish Leland Hill.

Ben: He does give me the willies but he is also paying the bills!

Sammy: Absolutely! And I’m sure the advertisement budget he’s paying Merv is a drop in the bucket compared to that old compound they’re finishing on Old Bombing Range Road.

Ben: I can see that you are trying your hardest to stay on their good side, Sammy, but let’s stay on track here.

Sammy: (laughs) You got it, we absolutely can, and should, keep it on the rails, I’m sorry.

Ben: Ooh, that’s the hot-line right on time. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the good Reverend Xavier Hawthorne calling in to tell us about his new venture as well as hopefully taking calls from you lovely listeners!

Sammy: New venture? Did God start paying less?

Ben: (Clearing his throat) Good evening, Reverend Hawthorne! Thank you so much for working us into your busy schedule.

[Reverend Hawthorne dramatic organ intro music]

Deacon Reggie: Ladies and gentlemen of King Falls, please put your hands together, get those hands a clapping, like the girls asses be clappin’ up in the club, put' em together for the one, the only, Reverend… Xavier… get right with Goooood, Hawthorne! Deacon Reggie, out! (Sound of a high five) Go get ‘em, brother.

Hawthorne: (very quietly) Oh Deacon Reggie, thank you so much for that lovely introduction! Appreciate you, fam!

Sammy: Hi, Reverend Hawthorne… and Deacon Reggie.

Hawthorne: Reggie can’t hear ya, he’s going back to his bunk on the bus. He’s got the gift of God though, don’t he?

Ben: That he does! How are you doing this evening, Reverend?

Reverend: Blessed to be here, Benjamin, Samuel. Gentlemen, how are you doing tonight? I said, how are you doing?

Ben: We’re… we’re well.

Sammy: (Laughing) Not too shabby. H-how are you?

Reverend: Very well, very well indeed. I’m sorry it took so long to get this calling to happen. I’ve been a busy, busy man of God these days.

Ben: Indeed you have, Reverend. Is the tent revival business still going well?

Reverend: Where there are sinners there is always a need for salvation. And where there is salvation, there is Reverend Xavier get right with God Hawthorne’s stomping out the devil revival. You got to stomp out that nasty devil! Just stomp him out!

Sammy: You know, you should have that on t-shirts.

Reverend: Already do! Nineteen ninety-nine each or two for forty dollars. You have a keen eye for marketing, Samuel, a keen eye.

Sammy: Reverend Hawthorne, there was mention of you in the King Falls Gazette a week or two back about you possibly settling down in King Falls. Is there any merit to that claim?

Reverend: Now Samuel, I hate to speak out of turn, but let me just say that good things come to those who wait. And good old Xavier has been a waiting a long time to find a parish to call his own. And glory be I think we might have struck a deal at the King Falls First Old Baptist Church!

Ben: Oh wow, so that would-

Reverend: Can I get an amen, brothers?

Ben: A...men?

Reverend: Our prayers have been answered! Just as soon as the check clears the bank…

Sammy: So you signed a deal that would keep the road show-

Reverend: Ah! Stomping out the devil revival!

Sammy: Stomping out the devil revival with a permanent home in King Falls?

Reverend: Well, we’d still tour. That sneaky devil is always popping his head up where he shouldn’t. The ultimate game of wack-a-mole. And you’d better believe we’ll be there to whack him down every time! Every time, devil! Whack-whack-whack!

Sammy: But…

Reverend: But yes, we will have the church as our home base. Praise be!

Ben: Isn’t the First Old Baptist Church a little… what’s a good way to say this…

Reverend: Oh it’s a sinkhole waiting to happen! But that’s where we come in, Benjamin. We’re going to raise some money from the good folks of King Falls, and we’re going to build that cheeple steeple into the megachurch that the Holy Trinity, that the town of King Falls, and Xavier Hawthorne deserves!

Sammy: Huh.

Ben: A megachurch? Those are like stadium size churches, right? How will that ever fit on the corner lot First Baptist is on now?

Reverend: Where there is a God’s will, well don’t you know, there's an entrepreneurial way. Eclesiastes 1, 5 through 7.

Sammy: Now Reverend, for those residents who don’t go to church, but would still like to know that they’re helping an institution that will help out their fellow man-

Reverend: I hear the doubt in you, Samuel! And it is strong. And it is scary. I don’t want to go Yoda on you, but you don’t want none of the dark side funk on your everlasting soul, son!

Sammy: Right. Back to the question, I’m assuming that the church will be actively putting money and good will back into the town. Is that correct?

Reverend: You’d better believe it, Sammy. But there’s no other reason to do it than to help out all of God’s children.

Sammy: Some more than others?

Reverend: We’ll be doing outreach programs, food for the needy, clothes for the poor. We’re working on a deal to rent out the old dilapidated putt-putt place right next to the church as well.

Ben: Oh man! Sir Putts-a-Lot? That was the place to go back when I was in middle school!

Reverend: Sadly, I don’t think it’s seen many good years since then. But we’re going to try to refurbish and reopen as a money making venture for the folks, like you’re speaking of, Sammy, that don’t do church. Now, we’ll be Christian themed, but it’ll still be fun for the non-believers.

Ben: Oh man, I can’t wait. Sammy, the eight hole at Sir Putts-a-Lot was-

Reverend: (Loudly) Glory Holes!

Ben and Sammy: What?!

Reverend: Glory Holes- mini golf for a mighty God. We opened one in Tuscaloosa back in 2013. It’s a proverbial gold mine for God.

Ben: Okay, well that’s… that’s an interesting choice of words.

Sammy: (laughing) I can’t wait to go to Glory Holes! Do you have an approximate grand opening date? You know, that’s something that should be marked on every calendar in town. I’d like to mark it on every calendar in town, actually.

Reverend: As I’ve said, checks have to clear, hands need to be shaken, and prayers need to be answered. We’ll see, but it should be sooner than later, boys.

Sammy: I had questions, but you know what… I can’t follow that.

Ben: Reverend, would you mind sticking around and taking some calls with us?

Reverend: Absolutely! Anything to spread the good word and the gospel.

Sammy: You heard Xavier’s story, kids, now let’s hear yours. Give us a call at the studio, (424)279-358.

Ben: Uh, before we go to the phone lines! Does God ever, like, intervene in matters of the… heart?

Sammy: Ben.

Ben: You know what I mean. Rev, like, if a boy likes a girl, but the boy made a real righteous ass- excuse my language- out of himself to save the girl from another boy’s affections… creepy, creepy affections?

Sammy: This sounds familiar, Ben. Is this anybody we know?

Ben: I’m asking for a friend.

Sammy: Right.

Ben: So, Reverend, I- I don’t really know how this works, like, if my friend, uh, prays really hard will he-

Sammy: Tilt the odds in his favor.

Ben: Exactly!

Reverend: You know, Benjamin, I think it starts with having a personal relationship with your lord and savior, Jesus Christ, and then feeling it out from there.

Sammy: I think it works for wars and football teams all the time. Give it a shot, Ben.

Ben: Can’t hurt, right?

Sammy: The phone lines are lit up, Buddy.

Ben: Right, uh, right. Heh, we can talk about that later, Rev.

Sammy: Lucky line one, you’re on King Falls AM with the Reverend Xavier get right with God Hawthorne.

Caller: Hey, Sammy. Hey, Ben. Hey, Rev.

Sammy: Ron Begley! How are you doing, sir? Long time no talk!

Ron: Doing just fine, Sammy! Just fine!

Ben: Do you have a question for Reverend Hawthorne?

Ron: Sure thing. Now, Reverend Hawthorne, what would the going rate be to rent old Glory Holes for a private putting party? I got an ex-life partner Bruce looking for a place to get hitched to his fiance, Larry, who happens to be a golf pro.

Reverend: Whoa, now!

Ron: Hello?

Reverend: I’m sorry, Bruce and Larry?

Ron: Yeah! Do you know ‘em? They’re all kinds of religious.

Reverend: You know, I have to get with our finance manager. There’s a lot of moving pieces and- what was it- do y’all hear that? It’s God. He’s a calling me. I got him on the spiritual speed dial. I think I’m losing you, fellas. Let’s chat about-

[The sound of a phone hanging up cuts off the rest of what the Reverend is saying.]

Ron: Hahaha, works every time.

Sammy: I’m guessing there is no Bruce or Larry.

Ron: Hell yeah there is! And I really wanna rent out a putt-putt place named Glory Holes for the reception, but I didn’t figure that stuffed pudgery would talk about it.

Sammy: I think you’re correct.

Ben: How’ve you been, Ron?

Ron: Uh I can’t complain. But I do anyway. All’s well at the bait shop.

Sammy: And how is, uh… you know.

Ben: Just say it, Sammy!

Ron: You can do it, Sammy! How is who?

Sammy: Oh fine! How is Kingsey the lake monster doing?

Ron: All right! That’s what I’m talking about.

Ben: You did it, buddy. I’m proud of you!

Sammy: Oh, whatever. Saying is not believing, guys.

Ron: One important step closer. She’s doing just fine, by the way. But I gotta tell you, I’ve seen Kingsie more now than I ever have before. Seems like anytime I’m on the lake Kingsie comes right on up. No fear in her at all. It’s the damnedest thing.

Ben: That’s strange, Ron. Wasn’t it just a few months back that you had people out on the lake hunting her almost?

Ron: Yeah I don’t get it. You’d think she’d be more scared of the boat and the people but I’ve seen her visiting boats with my own eyes! I don’t like it.

Sammy: So no more trouble with trespassers, then?

Ron: Not a lick of trouble! I fixed those lousy poaching' sons of whores good!

Sammy: Do we even want to know?

Ron: Let’s just say I might have put some buckshot to some behinds!

Sammy: I’m not touching that one.

Ron: (laughs) That’s what he said.

Sammy: I don’t know if…

Ron: It works, Sammy! Trust me.

Sammy: I’ll just make a mental note not to be out on the lake looking for trouble.

Ben: So uh if you didn’t have a question for the Reverend, what’s going on then, Ron?

Ron: What, a guy can’t call his radio buddies to chat? Isn’t this talk radio?

Ben: Of course! I’m just-

Ron: I’m just messing with you, Ben! I actually do have a topic of discussion for both of you. A bone to pick, if you will.

Sammy: Oh wow, let’s hear it!

Ron: Well it seems that damn near every time I turn on 660 AM you two ruffians are fighting with somebody or getting tossed out of public places. I’d be proud you boys are about to level up your man cards! But I’m a little offended you didn’t come to me for help.

Sammy: With the fighting and getting kicked out of places.

Ron: I’m only partially busting balls here, but it’s partially serious too. You fellas with your fighting, as hot as it may be, ain’t the best for you or us who like listening.

Ben: Let it be known, I was not fighting! I am not a fighter.

Sammy: No, you were sabatoshing and throwing hush puppies!

Ben: Whatever, it still wasn’t a fight!

Ron: Hell, I wouldn’t classify what Sammy the mirror was doing as fighting either, you have to land some strikes and grapples to be a fight! You gotta actually make your hand into a fist to be a fight! Looked like a springtime, fully clothed, roll in the hay! I’ve had dates rougher than that quote unquote fight.

Sammy: Well, uh, obviously, you know I let my emotions get the better of me and it went arye.

Ron: Oh, whatever, Sammy! Not everyone’s meant to be a warrior. What I’m trying to tell you both is you fellas just need to do your fighting over the radio airwaves. You keep the physicalities to the professionals! You’re a bright spot in a lot of people’s nights around here and we can’t have you getting thrown of the air for rabble rousing and half-assed MMAing the jackass mayor.

Sammy: I think I get what you’re saying and we appreciate it, Ron. Believe me we will keep fighting the good fight the only way we know how.

Ron: With your sweet little mouths.

Sammy: I was going to say minds, but sure.

Ron: Alright, fellas. I can hear my radio going off like a son of a b-(beep) in the shop. Better go see what kind of damn fool would be trying to get me in the middle of the night. Take it easy fellas.

[The phone hangs up]

Ben: He’s a trip.

Sammy: He’s something. Line nine you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

[Magical twinkling music starts]

Ben: Oh no, hang it up, Sammy!

Sammy: Wait, what is this?

Ben: Seriously dude, this is bad news. Just push the button and-

Sammy: Hello?

Caller: Oh hello!

Sammy: Hello? We’re here, you’re live with Sammy and Ben.

Ben: Come on!

Caller: Oh splendid! I do love listening to you two!

Ben: Oooh, hi, Gwendolyn.

Sammy: (Amused) You know this lady?

Ben: Unfortunately.

Gwendolyn: It’s Gwendolyn! You’re such a smart cookie, Ben Arnold. So unlike your trailer trash friend Troy!

Sammy: Whoa, ma’am! If you could please not address anybody like that, we’d appreciate it. Sorry, Troy.

Ben: Remember when I asked you to hang up?

Gwendolyn: (Sarcastically) Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend your liberal sensibility! I’ll do my best to shackle my first amendment right to freedom of speech. We wouldn’t want to offend, now would we?

Sammy: Gwendolyn, was it?

Gwendolyn: Oh, it is, darling.

Ben: There’s more to her name, Sammy.

Gwendolyn: My, my, Ben I didn’t realize we were bringing proper titles into this conversation! How fancy.

Sammy: Oh, like a duchess of York or a princess situation?

Gwendolyn: Well, you could say that.

Ben: (Clearing his throat) Gwendolyn the Racist Witch.

Gwendolyn: It’s like a choir of purebred school children singing when you say it like that, Ben. Now I do prefer Gwendolyn the Hateful, but…

Ben: But one shoe fits better than the other.

Sammy: Gwendolyn, if I may be so bold-

Gwendolyn: You may.

Sammy: Obviously I’m grasping most, if not all of your title, but I’m finding myself a little… hmm.

Ben: Sammy doesn’t believe in witches.

Sammy: That is correct.

Gwendolyn: How very sad! Were you an underprivileged child, Sammy? You sound at the very least like white middle class. Do you not know what a witch is?

Ben: Uh, no, he knows what witches are, he just doesn’t believe in them.

Gwendolyn: Well I don’t believe in Muslim presidents, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have one!

Ben: Ooh, told you to hang up, Sammy!

Sammy: Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if you don’t have a topic that isn’t-

Ben: Racist.

Sammy: Right. Then we’re going to have to let you go.

Gwendolyn: Oh, but I do have a topic, Sammy. I would never call in just to waste your resources like welfare on those-

Sammy: Gwendolyn! I’m not going to let you use this as a forum to spew venom and hatred! There are plenty of other AM radio stations that will let you do that, but we certainly will not.

Gwendolyn: Oooh, strong! Forceful! I like it! You have some aryan in you-

[The phone hangs up with another twinkling sound.]

Sammy: Nope! I tried, I just can’t do it.

Ben: Try living with that your entire childhood! She lived a block over from my mom. You should’ve heard the stuff she’d yell out at little league games!

Sammy: Is that where you learned most of your large vocabulary?

Ben: (Coughing) Hardly! No, uh, line two you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

[The sound of outside night noises (crickets and wind and frogs) begin]

Caller: Oh hiya, Ben. It’s Mr. Sheffield.

Ben: Hey, Mr. Sheffield, how are you doing this evening?

Cecil: Oh I’m just swell. It’s just so good to hear a friendly voice. Let me ask you something, have you heard from Esther lately? I’ve been putting in those booty-calls but I haven't heard a thing back!

Ben: He isn’t talking about Esther Rollins, is he?

Sammy: Hi, Cecil, are you talking about Esther Rollins from Esther’s Sewing Corner?

Cecil: Ah, you betcha, bud!

Ben: We… I mean, he’s gotta know, right? She passed six months ago or so.

Another person in the background on the line: Damn it, can you hear me?

Sammy: I hate to be the one to tell you this-

Ben: Is that Herschel in the background?

Herschel: Hello!

Cecil: Oh, I know she passed, fellas! But she was still answering her secret number and moseying on over for the longest time!

Sammy: I- I’m sorry… what’s that, Cecil?

Herschel: Did you get those butternut f-(beep) on the phone yet, Cecil? Stop talking about banging a ghost! Is that the dumbass duo? Give me that!

Ben: Are you guys out together… looking for Esther?

Cecil: Oh no, I was just wondering about her and thought you boys were in the know and could help. Me and my best friend are out on the lake tonight and we’re fishing-

Herschel: Don’t tell ‘em, you no good penis wrinkle! This is Herschel F. Bomgardener’s find! Tryna take all my glory. Son of a (beep).

Cecil: I’m sorry. Hersch really wants to tell you guys something. Can you call me back though? About sweet old Esther...

Herschel: Oh Jesus, not one damn person in this town who wants to hear about Cecil Sheffield laying the old ghost post. I’m tired of hearing about it my damn self! You listening King Falls AM?

Sammy: Hi, Herschel.

Herschel: Well don’t sound so excited, Stevens. I’m just dropping the biggest old breaking news money shot all over your face.

Ben: That’s an image! Uh, what can we do for you?

Herschel: Well for starters, how’s about kissing my ass? And don’t you take a tone!

Ben: There wasn’t a tone! I swear!

Herschel: I’ll never understand your generation. If I talked like that to my elders I’d never have made it past nine years of age! The damn factory foreman would have skinned my hide.

Sammy: It sounded like Cecil was about to tell us something, and you mentioned breaking news? Is that correct?

Herschel: I’m getting to it! Damn it to hell, boys! Like I used to tell Edna; slow and steady wins the race. Better hurry up, though I’m about to fall asleep.

Cecil: Hey, Herschel, I don’t think this is Kingsie...

Ben: Kingsie? Is something wrong with her?

Herschel: Do I look like doctor f-(beep) lake monster to you, Ben?

Sammy: What’s going on out there? I assume you two are out on Lake Hatchenaw?

Herschel: That we are. Me and Cecil are out tonight trying out some new lewers. Real fancy stuff.

Cecil: Hey, I’m sure this thing ain’t Kingsie, Hersch.

Herschel: I f-(beep) heard you the first time, Cecil! Jesus Christ! Can’t you see I’m talking on the radio!

Cecil: Sorry, buddy.

Herschel: Ah if I had my gun I’d put that brain-dead dumbass out to pasture. Anywho… goddamn it, what the f-(beep) are we talking about?

Ben: (Annoyed) You’re on the lake, testing lures.

Herschel: Right, uh, so we hit secret spots, and then, erm try to feel the Cecils out. And wouldn’t you know it, we found that old serpenty b-(beep) Kingsie, belly up.

Ben: What?!

Herschel: Deader than Rock Hutchson’s affections for the ladies.

Ben: Oh man, I cannot believe that. This- This hurt. I gotta call Ron back.

Herschel: Ain’t no use calling that son of a b-(beep)! I was radioing on his bait shop the last twenty minutes to no avail! Figured he’d want to go out and say his goodbyes before Ray Chin comes out here and suzies her up real good.

Sammy: Ben, give Ron a call so he doesn’t hear about Kingsie like this.

Herschel: Ah she was a damn fine lake monster.

Cecil: (In the background) Herschel this ain’t Kingsie!

Herschel: Didn’t really mess with me and hecklewood, stayed out of my spots. I won’t miss her, but damn if I don’t salute her for knowing some boundaries.

Cecil: Turn on your damn hearing aid! It’s not Kingsie!

Herschel: Oh, what now? I ain’t too old to dump you wrinkled ass right off the side of this boat.

Cecil: No! Give me the phone!

Sammy: Hey Ben, hold on a second.

Cecil: Hello? Is this Ben Arnold and his buddy?

Herschel: (From the background) I let you have it you fardknocking old cuss.

Sammy: You’re live, Cecil. Is what you found on the lake not Kingsie?

Herschel: Let me get a good look at this thing. Hey, shine the light over here, Cecil. Get a little closer.

Cecil: That light fell overboard in Kettleton Cove.

Herschel: G-(beep)-damn it! Watch your dirty cheating crumb catcher! You don’t know what kind of eavesdropping satellites are listening in to scout bots or the bass tourney. Mother f-(beep)!

Cecil: The light is gone, Herschel! Sorry.

Sammy: Fellas?

Herschel: Hey, this may not be Kingsie. Quit whistling f-(beep)-ing dixie and get us closer!

Sammy: It’s not Kingsie, Ben.

Ben: Ohhh thank goodness! What is it?

Herschel: Jesus, I think this is a dead body!

Sammy: It’s a dead body.

Ben: That’s much better than Kingsie… so young… WHAT?! Wait, what?! Again?!

Herschel: It’s all wrapped up in something. But it smells human to me. Pull over closer, Cecil. Jesus Christ, do I have to give you a haunted hanty to get closer to the g-(beep)-damn body?

Cecil: We’re going to go closer.

Sammy: Why don’t we let you guys go so you can call the sheriff’s office.

Herschel: Eh, it’s so damn dark! Where’s my million candle lamp, you dumbass.

Ben: I’ll call the sheriff’s office. Where are you guys at on the lake?

Cecil: You know I can’t rightly tell you, Ben. Shhh, it’s a secret!

Ben: This is a little more important than the bass tournament, Mr. Sheffield!

Herschel: Don’t you tell ‘em! Tell those pansies to send the coppers to Begley’s. We’ll meet them there. Your big mouth has already broadcasted too much!

Ben: To Ron’s, got it. I’ll make the call, guys.

Cecil: Hey, what’s that noise? Do you hear that, Herschel?

Herschel: Sounds like they’re right over the treeline. We could shine the light if you hadn’t tossed it in the lake!

Cecil: Oh hush!

Herschel: Fifty nine ninety-nine at Sears and Roebuck. Don’t think you won’t replace it-

[There is a loud crashing sound like thunder]

Cecil: What the heck is that?!

Herschel: Well Charlie f-(beep)-ing foxtrot!

Sammy: What’s wrong, guys?

Cecil: Look at those lights… Oh, pretty colors… beautiful…

Sammy: Lights? Is it the UFOs?

Herschel: Gosh, those damn rainbow lights again. We’re not going to catch nary a f-(beep)-ing fish tonight. Son of a buttered up, biscuit eating b-(beep)!

[King Falls outro music and credits begin]

References:

Yoda: a fictional character from Star Wars known for his wisdom and fighting against the ‘dark side’

Glory holes: I’m sorry I’m not going to explain this one… If you’re over 18 feel free to look it up, if you are not please don’t.

MMA: Mixed martial arts

Rock Hutchson: A gay actor

Sears and Roebuck: department stores

Charlie foxtrot: military slang for a chaotic situation

Characters:

Sammy Stevens, Ben Arnold, Leland Hill, Deacon Reggie, Reverend Xavier Hawthorne, Ron Begley, Gwendolyn the Racist Witch, Cecil Sheffield, Herschel F. Bomgardener.

#king falls am #king falls am podcast #king falls am transcript #king falls transcript #king falls podcast #podcast #podcast transcript #transcript

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440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

Take the Shot

Pairing: Dean x Reader

You pulled your royal blue 1968 Chevy Nova into its parking spot in the bunker garage, then turned off the ignition. You walked around to the trunk and gathered up some of your grocery bags. You took the case of beer out of the trunk and set it on the garage floor. With your hands full, you kicked the bunker door, which was answered by Sam Winchester.

"Hey, you didn't have to get all this by yourself, I would've come out to help you," he remarked.

"Good thing you're here then, Sam, there's just a little more to bring in. You can carry the rest of the bags and the case of beer down the stairs if you want to help," you suggested.

"Consider it done, milady," he replied with a dramatic bow.

You rolled your eyes but grinned at his exaggerated response, then continued on to the kitchen to put away your groceries. By this time, Dean had wandered into the kitchen as well, reaching into the fridge for something cold to drink.

"Where's the pie? I don't see any pie. How could you forget the pie?!?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Relax, Dean. I'm making the pie from scratch. As soon as I get done putting groceries away, I'll start peeling the apples," you assured him.

"Aw, thank you, sweetheart," Dean replied as he beamed a smile at you brighter than the sun. He squeezed your shoulder as he left the kitchen. You ducked your head just in time for him to not see the blush creeping up on your cheeks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean was always doing things like that, calling you "sweetheart" or "honey", squeezing or rubbing your shoulder. You were certain he didn't mean anything by it, just a bit of harmless flirting. However, it was those little things that made your heart flutter and your cheeks grow warm. Dean didn't know it, but you had developed feelings for him. You tried to push them down, ignore them, talk yourself out of them, anything, but it was no use. You were falling in love with Dean Winchester.

You had first met the Winchesters on a vampire hunt assignment given to you by Bobby Singer. Bobby took you in when you were twelve and your parents were killed trying to take out a bunch of demons. He taught you about what each monster's weakness was and how to kill it, along with some basic self-defense and weapons tactics. Over time, your firearms skills grew to expert marksman level and you were downright lethal with a blade.

There were a few times that you had come close to confessing your feelings for the elder Winchester. Then you saw him with his arm around some woman from the bar, and that was enough to change your mind. You turned your attention back to your drink, and counted the minutes until you were home, back in your bedroom, alone with your thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You finished dicing the apples for the pie, added the sugar and the cinnamon then mixed the ingredients together. You set the bowl aside and moved on to prepare the crust. While you were folding and rolling the crust, your mind wandered back to Dean. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't notice Sam had walked in.

Sam cleared his throat, which startled you and made you jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Everything okay?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, Sam, why not?" you mumbled, returning your attention to assembling the pie.

"You just seem a little distracted, that's all," Sam observed.

"No, I'm not," you replied defensively.

"You didn't even hear me come in, as you would usually say, 'lumbering like a moose'," he teased. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing, Sam. Nothing at all," you responded. "And you came in here for....what, exactly?" you prompted as you slid the pie onto the oven rack and set the timer.

"Oh, yeah, found us a case, around Ruthie's new hometown. Sounds like a simple salt-and-burn spirit kind of thing," he explained.

"Really? It's been months since I've seen her! Damn, I just put the pie in, and it won't be done for another hour or so. Can't let it burn," you replied.

"We can wait till it's done and then go. I'm sure Dean will approve, considering it's for a good reason," Sam added.

"Okay. I'll call Ruthie and get my bag packed. You can tell Dean about the change in the itinerary," I said as I left the kitchen.

Sam shook his head and chuckled. Dean walked in a short time after you left, so Sam told him about leaving a bit later than expected. He grumbled a little at first, then it was explained that the pie needed to finish baking first. As predicted, Dean changed his mind and was okay with the later departure time.

As you packed, you called your best friend, Ruthie, to let her know you would be up in her area, working a case. She was excited that you were going to be so close by and could visit, though she wasn't crazy about the reason you would be there. Before you hung up, she warned you to be careful and to watch out for yourself and the boys so that no one got hurt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few hours later, another successful hunt was in the books. You all sat around Ruthie's kitchen table with her husband, Jim, laughing and swapping stories. She had a surprising amount of dirt on you, and she certainly didn't mind sharing it one bit.

Dean looked around and got up from his chair. "Well, not that this hasn't been fun, but I've been wanting to check out your bar, Ruthie. Sam, you in?" He put his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn and lock onto his flashing green eyes. "How about you, sweetheart? Want to come with us?" he asked.

You briefly lost the ability to form a coherent thought, but quickly recovered. "N-nah, I think I'll stay here and catch up with Ruthie. We haven't seen each other in so long, I don't want to miss an opportunity," you finally got out.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, have fun you two. Don't wait up," he said waggling his eyebrows. Once he drove off in the Impala, you let out a frustrated groan.

"What was that all about?" she demanded. "Since when does he call you 'sweetheart' and make googly eyes at you? Are you two a 'thing' now?" she asked.

"There were no googly eyes, Ruthie. And no, we're not a 'thing' now, nor will we probably ever be one. It's just harmless flirting," you muttered.

"But, you wish he meant it, don't you?" she asked gently. You could only nod, as your voice would have betrayed the tears on your face.

"Then you have to tell him, honey. Otherwise, he'll never know and he'll keep doing the bar chick thing, slowly taking a piece of your heart each time," Ruthie finished.

"Ruthie, I've seen the type of woman he seems to prefer, and it's not me. Sure, it feels amazing when he calls me 'sweetheart' or when he touches my hand or my shoulder. But I know he doesn't mean anything by it. Let's face it, I'm not his type of woman. I'm good for going on hunts, doing the research and making pie. Friend, remember? Not the romance category," you choked on the last sentence.

"Do you really believe that?" Ruthie asked.

You nodded. "Yes, Ruthie, I do. However, I also believe that what we do is so important. So much, in fact, that I'm willing to continue pushing all of those feelings aside to focus on the mission. What if I told him how I feel and he didn't feel the same? I don't know how long I could stay in the bunker after that, seeing him every day after ruining a perfectly good friendship."

Suddenly Ruthie jumped to her feet. "Come on," she motioned for me to follow her.

"What? Where are we going?" you asked.

"We are going to get dressed up and we are going to walk into my bar, looking so amazingly HOT and sexy. Mr. Dean Winchester won't be able to keep his eyes--or anything else, for that matter--off your body, honey." she finished with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Hey, Jim? We're going into town to check on things at the bar, do you want to drive us there?" she called. He agreed, and you went with Ruthie to put yourselves together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"That about does it, don't you think?" Ruthie said as we stepped back from the mirror.

"I think this more than does it. Sis, we look GOOOOOD," you said. Ruthie held up her hand for you to high-five her, but you missed, causing you both to start giggling.

You were wearing a new pair of slightly faded blue jeans with star-studded back pockets that you had brought with you. A white spaghetti-strap tank top and a cropped denim jacket about the same color as the jeans completed your outfit. Ruthie lent you her tan knee-high boots with a wedge heel. Your curly brown hair was fluffed out a bit more and you kept your makeup and jewelry choices simple.

Ruthie was similarly dressed, but in darker colors. Black jeans where you wore blue, a red tank top instead of white, and black boots. You looked at each other, linked arms and got into the car.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam and Dean were sitting in a booth, each drinking their second beer of the night. "Hey, Sam? Do you think we should call the girls and ask them to come out?" Dean asked. Just then, a well-endowed blonde walked up to their table. She slid into the booth next to Dean, and looking straight at him, she asked, "Wanna dance?"

At that exact moment, you, Ruthie and Jim walked in, looking for Sam and Dean. When you saw the blonde sitting so close to Dean and practically kissing him, you froze. Ruthie's hand was at your elbow, propelling you forward. "Steady, you can do this. Just walk over to the table and tell them we're going to play some 8-ball. And that no, they can't play," she growled.

You gathered up your courage and walked over to their table. "Evening, boys," you drawled. "Ruthie and I are going to go play some 8-ball," you explained. As they started to get up, you held up your hand. "No, no, just us girls playing. Sorry boys," you said with a wink. You and Ruthie headed for the empty pool table, your heart pounding furiously in your chest.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Dean saw you and Ruthie walk in, he couldn't believe his eyes. He'd seen you in jeans and a tank top before, but these jeans hugged your curves like none he'd ever seen you wear before. You and Ruthie were dressed so alike, but the two of you couldn't have been more different. Ruthie wore dark, where you wore light, the yin and yang that perfectly explained your longtime friendship.

The blonde became bored at Dean's lack of attention and left the table in a huff. Dean watched as you and Ruthie played your game. He saw how happy and carefree you looked as you hung out with your best friend. It had been a long time since he'd seen you that way, and it brought a smile to his face.

Dean noticed how your eyes sparkled when you smiled and he thought about how he wouldn't mind seeing more of that. He wondered what you two were talking about between shots with your heads together. He desperately wanted to know what was just said that had made you throw your head back in laughter.

For one of your shots, you were leaned over the table rather low, trying to get lined up. Your studded back pockets were pointed in Dean's direction. His mouth ran dry as thoughts of a less than pure nature ran through his mind. He shook his head as if trying to clear it, catching Sam's attention. "Dude, you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's head over there to watch the girls. I see two empty barstools, why don't you snag those while I get us another beer," Dean suggested.

By the time Sam and Dean came over, you and Ruthie were into your second drinks and fourth game of pool. You both had also ditched your jackets, having left them on the barstools now occupied by the boys. You had gathered a good-sized crowd to watch the two of you play. There was a group of college boys, a bachelorette party, and some other random people were there to cheer you on.

It was your turn, and you had a difficult choice to make. You could bank the #13 and keep playing, or shoot the #11 and have a potentially difficult next shot. Bank shots were not your strong suit, but you decided to give it a go. Unfortunately, one of the college boys was in your way and didn't look like he wanted to move. "Excuse me, I need to take this shot and you're in my way," you explained.

"Tell you what, sweetheart. You make this shot and I'll buy you a shot. Then you can sit on my lap and I'll tell you about the great night we're going to have together," he smirked.

Dean heard what the kid had said, and something in him snapped. He bolted out of his seat, but Sam held him back. "Hold on, I think she's got this," he said.

"Tell you what. How about you move and let me make this shot? That way, I don't crack my cue stick over your skull for making such a sexist comment. Does that sound all right to you?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelids.

He grumbled, "Yeah, whatever," but got off of his barstool anyway to give you a clear shot. You leaned down to line up your shot. As you drew the cue stick back, you felt a hand grab your backside. You whirled around to see him high-fiving his drinking companions. You heard snippets of comments like "seriously sweet ass" and "like to hit that".

You pointed the heavier end of your cue stick at the kid, who was still laughing with his friends. You took advantage of his distraction to swing the heavy end right into his soft belly. With an audible "Oof!" he said as he fell, his ass landing hard on the floor.

With your cue stick raised above him ready to swing it again, you glared at him. "Get up. You and your friends had better get out of here before any real trouble starts. Don't even think about coming back in here ever again, at least not until you have more respect for a lady," you finished.

His friends helped him up and they headed for the door. As he passed you, he muttered, "'Lady' my ass, more like a bitch."

That was enough for Dean. He broke free from Sam and as he passed by, you could feel the anger radiating from him. You tried to grab his arm and pull him back but you were too late.

Next thing anyone knew, there was a scuffle in the parking lot between Dean and the kid. Punches were flying left and right until Sam finally pulled Dean away. The college boy was carried off by his buddies and Ruthie yelled that they were banned from her bar for good.

You walked over to Dean to check for damage. He had a cut above his left eye, a bloody nose and his knuckles were a bit scraped up. "Come on, Dean. Let's get you back to the motel and clean you up," you sighed.

Sam drove the Impala back to the motel in silence, with you in the back seat. Sam went to their room and got the first aid kit, then you walked to your room a few doors down. "You have your own room?" Dean asked.

"I didn't want to impose on Ruthie, so we booked this before we hit the bar," you explained. "Plus, depending on how tonight went, I thought I might want my own space." Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged, handed him the first aid kit and motioned for Dean to follow you to your room.

Once inside, Dean sat down on the bed and took off his outer shirt. You removed your denim jacket again and turned on the lights to better assess his injuries. His nose had stopped bleeding, so you took a washcloth and dipped it in the warm water contained in the ice bucket. "Are you okay?" Dean asked as you cleaned up the dried blood around his nose.

Being this close to Dean was enough to cause flutters in your heart. Not exactly trusting your voice at first, you nodded. "I'm fine, Dean. No harm done," you finally added.

Next, you moved on to address the injury above his left eye. "What did you mean by 'depending on how tonight went' you might want your own space?" Dean asked.

"Hmm?" you mumbled absently.

Dean reached up and stilled your hands, forcing you to gaze into his impossibly perfect green eyes. "What did you mean when you said that, about wanting your own space?" he repeated.

You stopped what you were doing to gather your thoughts, because once you answered his question, there would be no going back. "What I meant was, depending on whether or not you came back to the motel alone," you answered.

"Why would that matter to you?" Dean asked.

"Never mind. Let's get that cut above your eye stitched up," you said as you started to thread the needle.

"No, forget that for now. I want to know why that would matter to you," Dean persisted.

"And I said never mind!" you retorted. "You know what? Take this to Sam and let him sew you up. Goodnight, Dean," you replied as you held the door open.

Dean walked to the door as if to leave. Just before he would've crossed the threshold, he turned to you and said, "No. Not until we finish talking about this." you slammed the door and groaned loudly in frustration as he went to sit on the bed.

You walked over and stood in front of Dean. "You want to know why any of this matters to me? Fine, I'll tell you. All of these women you hook up with? None of them will ever know you like I do, Dean. None of them will ever love you the way that I do. It hurts me to see you with them, because I wish you were with me. I realize that to you, I'm nothing special. However, I know how you like your coffee, that you like to sing in the shower, which color of flannel is your favorite."

You knelt down between his knees, resting a hand on his left one. "I also know how to bring you back around after you've had a nightmare. And how you're so used to protecting others that maybe you feel like you have to build walls to protect yourself. I know about how scared you are that one day, everyone you love will leave you.

"But here's the thing, Dean. I will never leave you. And I will wait as long as it takes for you to bring down your walls. To let me in so I can be that source of strength for you when you need it the most."

As soon as you finished your speech, Dean leapt up from the bed and gathered you in his arms. His hands slid up to hold your face and he began to devour you with a series of hot, passionate kisses. Your lips, your cheeks, your neck, all of it was fair game for Dean. Your fingers threaded their way through his hair, paying particular attention to the ones at the base of his neck. Dean growled in appreciation, then you felt him smile against your lips.

When you finally broke apart, you were both trying to catch your breath. "That was amazing," you whispered.

"So was everything you said, sweetheart. Except one part," Dean replied.

"What? Which part?" you asked.

"The part where you said you realize that to me you're 'nothing special'," he said as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I can't think of anything that would be farther from the truth. I watched as you and Ruthie were playing pool.

"Your eyes sparkle when you smile, and when you laugh, you do so with your whole heart. Tonight, I saw a side of you that made me realize how special you are to me and to everyone around you. But most importantly, I have become very aware of how much I love you," he finished.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you, Dean. Almost thought I never would. I love you too," you replied softly.

You moved forward until your lips met again in a slow, passion-filled kiss. Your mouths moved together, yours opening slightly for Dean's tongue to slip inside. His fingers started threading through your hair, massaging as he went. Dean gently tugged on your curly locks, which tilted your head back and exposed your neck. "So beautiful...." he murmured against your skin as he dropped feather-light kisses up and down your neck.

"Stay with me tonight? Please?" you asked. Dean nodded, and while he stripped down to his boxers, you went into the bathroom to change into your pj's. He got into bed and held the covers back enough for you to slide in next to him. You turned to face him and placed your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "I love you, you know," you said softly.

"I know. I love you too, sweetheart," Dean replied. He slipped his arm around you so that you could rest your head on his shoulder.

"Goodnight, my love," you whispered.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #spn imagine #spn fluff

29 notes · View notes

xan-hast · 3 years

Text

“Together to Bloom”- July 3rd 2021

“Wake up; you’re going to be late!” I heard my older sister yell from outside my room. I can’t get up right now; it’s like six o’clock or something. I turned to grab my phone from the counter as I turned it on. Its harsh light beamed my delicate eyes. I blinked, trying to recover from the pain in my eyes. Alas, I looked at the time. It was seven-thirty! I hopped out of bed with no time to waste as the final day of school was here! I couldn’t be late for the last day of school before summer break! I’d worked so hard all year long, not just to waste it all for being late! I rushed, grabbing whatever I could get from inside my closet. I then went inside the bathroom to brush my teeth and grabbed my comb to fix my hair later in class. I put my phone in my pants right pocket, grabbed my backpack for school, and a granola bar before running through the front house door.

As I locked the front door, I started running to school. First period starts at eight-ten, so I should have about thirty minutes to make it to class since I probably only took ten minutes getting ready. This should be perfect because it takes less than half an hour to get to school. But it’s all estimates right now; I can’t check my phone right now because it’ll just slow down my time. I’ll just wait until I have to cross the street to check my phone.

So far, they’ve all been red lights! I’ve been lucky so far, but that would also mean the drivers aren’t sharing this same luck. I only need to cross the street one more time, and I’ll be at school. I’m praying for a green light because I’ve gotten tons of notifications coming from my phone. I know that I’m not late, but there must be some big news! Maybe Eric’s mom finally let him get the gaming PC he wanted. Or maybe River finally wants to talk about what happened this week. Or Jake (my online friend) finally got the new game we planned to play during the summer! Or maybe Brittany jus-. You know what, I could just keep guessing the endless possibilities. But from the void of possibilities, I really hope it’s River.

As I was approaching Breeze High, I could see students around the entrance of the school building. With the usual people staying outside until classes started, the students already inside, some buses being late, and parents dropping off kids. But I would be a mix of two; I would stay inside sometimes or outside depending on what friend I saw first. This time there wasn’t anyone outside waiting for me. So I would go inside, but I’d rather check who was spamming me with text messages. As I turned on my phone, I saw the top message from Eric saying, “Zachary come to the cafeteria know!” I scrolled through some other text messages, but the top fifteen were from Eric. They’re all the same text with the exact grammar mistake of know instead of now; he must’ve just copied and pasted the text. But I wonder what he would want so urgently. After that was one text message from Brittany saying, “If you can come to the Student Council class really quickly, I have some things to discuss.” I guess Brittany just wants me to help her again. Under her text were two messages from Marcel saying, “Hey Zachary want to meet before first period starts?” “We can meet right outside our class.” Well, now I have to choose between three people. But under Marcel’s text was a message from my mom saying, “Goooood Morning Hun! I hope you have an amazing last day of school! And I remember that you have thirty dollars in your backpack for the Farewell Bloom Festival! Have fun!” How could I have forgotten it was the Bloom Festival today! They even do it every year for the last day of school, but it always passes my mind. Thankfully Mom gave me money. Now I feel even more guilty for not checking hard enough for money for the homeless. But the first text message I got in the morning was again from Eric saying, “Meet me in the cafeteria!” Eric seems like an urgent matter, I could help Brittany after school, I’ll need to buy things for the Bloom Festival, and Marcel just wants to talk. He never wants to talk! I guess things change before summer break starts.

I looked inside my backpack for the money that Mom had given to me. It was located where she’d always put stuff for me. In a little section of the front of the backpack, that was easy to find.

As I walked inside the school, I could see tables spread throughout the hallways. These tables at the front of the school are always the most populated. And it was all in the spirit of Farewell to some and Later to others. The tables, filled with beautiful roses and little cards where you could add a message on them. But for those who weren’t as creative, the cards already had something sweet written. I looked through the hallways trying to find a table that didn’t have so many people. I then stumbled across a hallway filled with tables and the sellers, but no buyers. So I went over to one of the tables and said, “Can I buy five roses and five cards?” But that’s when I noticed the person wasn’t looking at me, but down on the floor. He then said, “That’ll be ten dollars, sir,” as he had his hand out in front of him. I don’t remember it costing this much! But it doesn’t matter because at least I’ll “Bloom a good smile,” which is the motto of the festival. I then placed the only two five-dollar bills I had on his hand. He swiftly took the money and said, “Thank you.” As he grabbed the roses behind him and the cards on the table, he continued, “Here are your roses and cards.” “Thank you,” I said as I left. I don’t really know who that was because they didn’t show their face, but they did it so well.

Now on who to go to; Eric or Marcel. They’re both amazing friends of mine, but technically Eric messaged me first. So I’ll quickly see what Eric needs and then go talk to Marcel. Sounds like a game plan; hopefully, it doesn’t backfire!

As I went inside the cafeteria (which was near the middle half of the school), I saw it near empty. From all the tables, only one had students- Dillion, Rivier, and Eric. They seemed to be talking; maybe I should just leave them alone. River and I aren’t on good terms. As I turned around to leave the cafeteria, I heard someone yell, “Watch out!” I looked back and noticed that Amy (the vice principal of Student Council) and Gregory had bumped into each other creating a mess around them of red roses. I walked over to help the two as everyone else was just watching.

As I went to pick up a rose, Amy said, “You don’t have to help Zachary. If anything, Gregory over here should be helping!” With a strict emphasis on Gregory’s name. As I stood back up, I saw that Amy was looking at Gregory with a strict look; Gregory was looking away and seemed like he’d run away any second. I then responded to Amy, a calm look and tone, “It really is okay. I can help out. But remember not to be so harsh on your tone,” as I handed her a rose I picked up. Amy grabbed the rose I handed to her and continued to pick up the other roses. Gregory looked up at me and nodded his head as if he said, “Thank you.” I then handed him one of my own roses and the card attached. He then approached Amy with the rose and card. Amy turned to him and grabbed the rose in a more calming way. I guess my work here is done. Now to go find Marce-.

I then felt a slight tap on my shoulder, I looked back and saw Eric. “Zachary, where’ve you been! I’ve tried texting, but nothing! You’re so late! Anyways, come and have a seat,” Eric said as he pointed at the table River was sitting at. Before I could say anything, he was already walking me to the table.

River seemed to be on his phone and didn’t look up. Eric then sat me down across from River. Eric tapped his shoulder, and in an instant, River looked up. We made eye contact which felt like my own eternity until he said, “What are you doing here Zachary!” He then turned to Eric and said, “You promised we were only going to talk! Not Zachary'' Seems like I should just go. But before I could leave and before Eric could say something, River already left running. Eric then said to me, “Sorry, I thought this would help you two.” I responded, “It’s okay. Thank you for trying.” Before I could give Eric a rose and card, he’d already left running after River. I got up from the blue table I was sitting at and started walking to English class to talk to Marcel.

How did I mess up so badly with River? It all started on a very blue Monday, just after lunch. As I was walking to the Student Council class, River came up to me with tears. He said the exact words, “It’s over! I can’t believe I could even trust you!” And he ran off without another word. I was shocked at what had happened, I looked over to see people whispering at their blue lockers. Eyes from all directions made me question what I did. It was later that day when Eric came up to me to talk about it. A rumor, breaking the forever bond that I had with River. It was finally found out that River and I had been dating. River and I had already been dating for almost the whole school year, but his parents weren’t as supportive. On that day, River and I faked breaking up, it was like a little bump in the road. Luckily no one from the school noticed that we were dating as we had just been dating for a month. But during that same day, I promised to never tell another soul that we were dating. That once it was all over, we’d live the life we imagined.

Now, the whole school knew, but the thing is that I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Eric! Actually, the only person that I did tell was Jake. He was extremely supportive of how I found out my true self so fast and young. And Jake doesn’t have any way to contact anyone at this school except for me since he lives in New York. I don’t know how this person found out or why they would spread it, but it does hurt to see him gone.

I tried explaining to River, but he doesn’t answer any of my texts or calls. Even at school, he wouldn’t talk to me all week. But I guess he was talking to Eric for comfort. My biggest concern is how hurt is he. Especially with this school spreading this rumor outside of school and onto social media. I know that by now, his family must’ve seen the rumor. I just wish I could talk to him and tell him the trut-.

“You okay, Zachory?” I looked over and saw it was Mr. Johns, the English teacher. I then said, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little lost in my thoughts.” “Well, Mr. Lost, you’re late for my class. The bell rang. But since it is the last day and I’m running a little late, it’s okay.” Wait, the bell has already rung! That means I wasn’t able to talk to Marcel! I’m just lucky that Mr. Johns is giving me a break. As I walked into class with Mr. Jones, I saw Marcel laying down his head on his desk.

“So it’s just a free day today. I’d be happy to sign your yearbook. If you need to go outside, just ask,” Mr. Johns said. He then sat down at his desk and started reading his book. First, let me write something on these little cards. On this first card, it had a hand’s palm on the front. I opened it and it read, “I’m a friend that’ll always help.” On the bottom, I added with a pen, “We can talk now?” Which was specifically for Marcel. I then brought all the roses with me to talk to Marcel. As I tapped his shoulder, he looked up with a face of concern. I then said, “Sorry, abo-.” “Can we go outside?” Marcel asked while interrupting me. I then walked over to Mr. Johns’ desk. I then tapped his desk and he looked up from his book. I then asked, “Is it okay if Marcel and I go outside?” He looked over at the clock and said, “Yeah sure. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

I walked over to Marcel and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me, and we left the classroom. As we did, Marcel said, “So I finally learned how to use my phone for more than just sending messages.” “Oh, that’s good,” I added. He continued with a sad tone, “Yeah, but I saw this post thingy on social media, and it was all about you and River… is it true?” Wait, Marcel didn’t know this whole time! He doesn’t talk to too many people, but even for him, it’s kind of much. I then responded with a soft tone, “The rumor about River and I is true. We were dating, but I never told anyone.” He then responded, “It’s okay. The post went into deep detail about the rumor. I just wanted to tell you, but I guess you already knew.” I then concernedly asked, “Actually, it all started on Monday; haven’t you heard or seen anything about River and me?” “No. I’m not that big on rumors or anything. But you should’ve told me. I wanted to help,” he added. “Well thank you. And before I forget,” I said as I handed him the rose attached with the card, “here is your rose!” Marcel then said, “Aw, thank you. Let me check the card.” Wait, the card just has-. Marcel then giggled, “Well, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I?” I quickly responded, “Yes, but I was supposed to give you that before we talked.” Marcel giggled again and said, “Well, we should get to class now. Just remember I’m always here to talk.” We entered the classroom, Marcel, with a rose, and I had my three roses left.

As the bell rang, Mrs. Jenkins said, “Have an amazing break, everyone!” That’s fourth period done. I just need to get through lunch, fifth period, and sixth period then I’m free from school. I sadly don’t have any of the classes with Eric at all. And for the last two periods, I don’t have any close friends. So lunch is going to be a good time to talk to someone; I hope River and I can discuss. I also still have these three roses.

As I walked into the cafeteria, I didn’t see Eric, Marcel, Brittany, or River. Where is everyone, it’s not like I’m early for lunch. As I was about to look around, I saw Dillon and Gregory talking to each other. I walked over to their table and before I could sit down, Gregory stood up and said, “Can I talk to you real quick?” “Yeah, sure.”

Gregory then took me to an empty hallway where he finally spoke up, “All I wanted to say was… thank you.” In shock, I said, “Oh, you’re wel-.” But before I could finish, he’d already left. I didn’t even notice he left so fast! I guess I helped him; it’s something to lift my spirit. And right now, it helped more than he could imagine.

As I was finally leaving sixth period, I noticed that some left a book on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it was Quincy’s notebook! Quincy is one of the top students in the school, he’d never just leave his notebook on purpose! I need to go find him in this avalanche of people in the halls! But I think Quincy always goes to Ms. Berkeley’s class before leaving school. So I should find him there!

As I finally made it out of the avalanche of students, I noticed someone sitting down in the middle of the hallway. As I approached them, I noticed it was Quincy! You could tell from his light gold hair, skinny pants, and back shirt. As I got closer, I heard him sobbing! As I was next to him, I said, “You left your notebook in class and ar-.” He then interrupted with loud sobs, “Thank you,” as he looked up at me, his face turned pale, he continued, “oh don’t look at me, Zachary.” He then grabbed the notebook from my hands and went in the same position. I then sat next to him and said, “I’m here to talk if you want?” “What, so you can just tell the whole school!” he said with an angry tone. “What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. “I heard the rumor,” he said with big sobs. I then took a deep breath and said, “Quincy, do you really think I would do that to my boyfriend?” He quietly said, “No.” “Exactly, there was just someone that told everyone. I’m in a rough state, but I still want to help you.” He then said, “But we’ve never even talked outside of school.” I then handed him a rose, he looked up and had a brief smile. He then read out loud the card, “It’s never too late to start things.” Then his brief smile turned into a blooming smile. He added, “What is this some kind of proposal?” I then said, “A proposal to become your friend.” He looked over at me and said, “Thank you, this really did help. It’s just that my girlfriend broke up with me. So I guess we kind of share a memory. I hope everything goes well for you. And thank you again for this and my notebook.” But before I could say something, he handed me a little note from his pocket. As he handed it to me, he said, “This is my phone number, maybe we can talk during the summer?” As I grabbed the piece of paper, I said, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to text you when I get home.” He stood up, and we departed ways, Quincy to Ms. Berkeley’s room while I was going to leave school.

As I was walking out of Breeze high for the last time this school year, I saw Eric running towards me. As he was running, he yelled, “Zachary! You really need to go talk to River!” Once he was in front of me, he was out of breath but trying to say something. I then said, “First catch your breath and then you can tell me.” After a few seconds of Eric panting, he then said, “I really messed up with you and River today. You need to talk to him. I’m so sorry, but you might be the only person to make him happy.” I then calmly said, “It’s not your fault at all Eric. Than-. Actually,” I then grabbed from my backpack one of the last roses and continued, “this is your rose. The card will do the talking.” As he took the rose from my hand, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Zachary. Also, River by Café Venteux.” Eric’s French has gotten so good! Even if it’s his third year in French class. “Okay, bye! Talk to you later!” I then left running towards the café.

As I made it near the café, I didn’t see River. But I saw the same homeless man in the morning outside the café. I walked towards him and he said, “Hey again, I hope you have a nice day.” I then searched in my left pocket for the twenty-dollar bill that mom gave me. Once I touched it, I said, “I actually got something for you,” as he looked up, I handed over the twenty dollars. He then smiled with great joy, saying, “Thank you! May God bless you!” He then went inside the café. As my eyes followed him, I saw River at the far end of the café.

As I walked inside the café, it made its little jingle. I walked over to where River was sitting and took a seat across from him. He didn’t look up until I tapped his shoulder. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood up. But before he could run away again, I stopped him. He was weaker now, not like usual, so I was easily about to sit him down on one of the wooden booths. I then sat next to him.

Before I could talk, he sobbingly said, “Why would you do that?” I then quickly responded, “I would never do that. I hope you can understand that I didn’t tell anyone about our relationship.” He responded, “Then how did people know! How come I got hurt!” He’s deeply hurt. “River, I want you to remember who I am. I never would do such a thing. I love you with all my heart. I just,” I started to tear, “I just don’t want it to be over a rumor someone started.” River then hugged me; I hugged back. I then let go with my left hand to grab my last rose. As I did, River looked up at me. As I handed him the bruised, color fading, few pedaled rose, I said, “I don’t ever want to lose you. Let us get through this together.”

#gay love #lgbtq #lgbt pride #school life #writing #short story #original work #entertainment #lgbtq representation

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kuroopaisen · 3 years

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@kacchand (i couldn't tag your main but i wanted to make sure you saw this fdlkjfdlkj)

hello dear! i’m sorry it took me so long to respond to this dflskjfdlkfdj i decided to answer your ask in a text post so i can link my thoughts to yours more easily! also, i know i'm going to Ramble, so i wanted to be able to keep it under a cut sdlkfjd

Hi rowan!! I've just finished the final chapter of aot and I just wanted to ask your opinion on it!

(SPOILERS THAT DEPICT MY UNDERSTANDING OF THE STORY'S MEANING AHEAD. READ ONLY IF YOU'VE FINISHED THE CHAPTER)

(FR )

(THERE'S STILL TIME TO BACK OUT)

(DO IT NOW. SPOILER ALERT)

I'd also like to ask a follow up question about it, because it seems that I've come to a different concl. from many of my friends and I'm feeling dumb abt how i feel w it.

first of all (and i say this as sincerely as possible, and if i'm coming off as condesending please let me know hh), please don't feel dumb because you've come to a different conclusion :(

we all read media at different levels (i’ve been told it’s ‘not that deep’ before fdljkfsdlkj) and identify different aspects in it, so the fact that you've had a different experience to some of your friends is absolutely not a reflection on your intelligence. and if anyone's making you feel that way, drop their @. i just want to talk :) furthermore, you’re not wrong for responding to something emotionally, especially if it really... makes you uncomfortable, you know?

i'm from the PH & I've put off determining whether i'm comfy w the manga til the last chap,,,, but is it wrong that I can't shake the feeling that it's a justification of japanese expansionism and genocide? ik this manga has always been in the grey area, and that's what I love abt it! It often shows that no choice they make is absolutely good or bad, and does such a good job at showing you how each complex character came to that understanding (role of environment, etc...) but this last chapter felt too positive abt the rumbling? Like it was justified because paradis was able to advance and there wasn't much choice? idk.

that's totally valid! some of the best think pieces on the show i read mentioned that the concern with the narrative is less "is isayama a nazi sympathiser?" (he most likely isn't), but if he's a imperial japan apologist. and...

well, let's just say that my father is british, and when i was trying to say that colonisation was bad, using british india as an example, he said "well, we gave them railroads." it's... it's uncomfortable and gross and i think it encapsulates how countries with imperial pasts tend to talk about them; even if they don't officially endorse it, there's often a lot of talk about how "well colonialism was good for this country, actually--"

and if the manga felt like it was justifying japanese expansionism, then chances are it had elements that very much did point towards that. i've had a lot of trouble grappling with reiner, annie and bertolt, because they've existed in this grey area of 'victim of oppression' and 'war criminal'; and their existence raises the question of "do people who commit war crimes simply do what needs to be done?" and by victimising them it... it plays into the whole nuremberg defense of "i was just following orders". it's making you feel bad for the people committing said war crimes (and similarly with eren, and all the awful things he's done). but i'll get more into this point later dsfkjfd

i haven't read the last chapter yet (and don't worry about spoilers! i've been approaching aot from a very... specific perspective anyway, so i actually don't mind spoilers -- i read a bunch of analyses of the series before i'd even watched it hh), but... i think if it came off as too positive about, you know... an awful thing that happened, then it absolutely makes sense that you'd feel uncomfortable?

the modernisation narrative in general is one that always skeeves me out. it's one japanese imperialists use to justify the invasion of korea (and even those infamous tweets from the one account purported to be isayama talk about how the population of korea boomed under japanese imperial occupation, which... stop.)

it's also commonly invoked in cases of development. certain members of society (usually the poor), just 'had' to die for the good of the future. who gives a damn if they consent to that? they have to.

similarly, the 'we had no choice' narrative. that's... a concerning one that crops up time and again with history apologists, the argument that "oh if x country hadn't done y, then someone else would've!" or that acts of aggression were done as pre-emptive self-defence, which is so... ugh. i just. i just hate it.

It also feels really weird w the ymir and the whole loving fritz thing. i wish we got to see more of her thought process and what conclusion she came to that led her to destroying the power of the titans.

i... hate this so much. i get that abuse is complicated and victims often have multifaceted feelings towards their abusers, but... most people would focus on that in their story? the story would be about that? but instead, it's just... a thing in the history of the world and that's... icky.

also having the genesis of the titans come from a slave girl in love with her captor... there's many levels of ick to it and i highly doubt it was handled with the appropriate level of grace and sensitivity.

honestly, this might be one of the things that pissed me off the most because of how... contradictory her backstory was with That One Chapter (you know, instead of ymir crying because she wants to be free or because she’s been trapped she........ wants to see mikasa kiss eren’s decapitated head? i guess? what the fuck?)

idk...I just think that context is sometimes everything. and i understand that media can portray incorrect things,,,, and that isayama likely didn't intend for it to become a global sensation, but i guess i'm just uncomfortable w the right wing nazis getting a comfort book ahaha.

i totally get that! even if attack on titan is meant to be anti-fascists, the fact of the matter is... a lot of fascists love it. and relate to it. which is... alarming. especially given just how popular aot is worldwide.

it’s hard because before the ending, attack on titan did feel like it was more grey; i remember saying that i wouldn’t know how to feel about it until the ending because the story was either saying “the military is corrupt and war is hell”, or it was saying “the military is corrupt and war is hell, but it is necessary.”

still sorting out my thoughts, but yeah. I think i'm having a hard time understanding what they really accomplished with the rumbling and how they gave eren a sudden lelouch role and a lot of how they made it out to be a happy thing? perhaps I'm too biased to see it fully but to me it gives a "woah. eren was a hero. he saved us from destruction. those people needed to die for us to achieve this temporary peace and new start". i suppose the rumbling gave them a levelled playing ground?

OH MY GOOOOOD okay. i haven't finished code geass. but i really don't like lelouch. i mean... i think i just don't like characters that sacrifice other people for a purported 'greater good' (i could write an Essay about how much i hate erwin smith looking at him is enough to send me into an unhinged rage), but where i'm up to in the anime, i don't like the direction they're going with eren? i mean, i've never liked eren, but... that whole "martyr for the eldians" is just. ew. especially when you see several eldian characters disagree and resist him.

why does this one guy get to make choices for everyone else? because he’s sPeCiAL? fuck off

sorry for not being coherent. maybe i'm basing this too much on feelings ahaha. trust aot to finish it's scandalous run with a scandalous end.

no omg you're being perfectly coherent :( also, if anyone's making you feel bad or stupid for how you experience media, they’re... definitely not as smart as they think they are fdslskjfdlk.

i'm of that mind that, while media consumption is in part an intellectual exercise, it is inherently very emotional; narrative media tries to make us feel as much as it makes us think. that’s what stories are for, you know? intellectual analysis is well and good but what’s the point of a story if it doesn’t make you feel anything?

that's to say, i don't believe there's such thing as basing your opinion too much on feelings :') especially since it's your personal experience with a piece of media; you don't owe anyone 'objectivity' (which is always a farce when it comes to this sort of thing) or 'logical analysis', because nobody's got any right to criticise you for engaging with media the 'wrong way'.

tl;dr I feel like the mood was too celebratory abt the rumbling, and didn't entail enough on the tragedy so much that it felt like a justification for genocide and expansionism. how do you feel abt it's ending and the message it leaves? is isayama responsible to give a morally correct answer to the cycle of hatred? you're not obligated to answer! and sorry for the rambling.

hhh yeah i guess that’s the thing at the end of the day... is isayama responsible for giving a “morally correct” answer? no, but the way the ending plays out is very telling.

like armin thanking eren? mikasa’s e n t i r e character boiling down to being in love with a mass murderer no matter how poorly he’s treated her? and one could argue that kind of ending is supposed to be unsettling, supposed to hint that the cycle will just continue, but...

framing is everything. and it’s framed like a Good, Emotional Thing, Aren’t We So Grateful Eren Did All Those Awful Things

YI think I would've been fine if we got to see more of Eren's or Yif you have a different perspective on how eren is being portrayed please do share! I just felt really yucky watching armin say "thanks for murdering all those people for us" with love,,, I suppose he was trying to make eren feel better. ach maybe I'm just overreacting. idk. im dumb ahaha . i'll send this in anyway cuz I'd love to hear your take!

HHHHHHH i just hate eren and i never got him. i felt bad for him in the beginning, but he's always been too... violent for me. there was a very short period of time in season 2 where i felt bad for him, but otherwise it’s just been... ugh. the main three have always been the weakest part of the series imo, so it’s really not surprising they’re part of the reason the ending was so. bad.

and... well, that one infamous quote pretty much sums up my issue with armin. he's supposed to be the 'intelligent' one, but he's hopelessly devoted to a homicidal maniac with whom he has a very artificial, unbelievable bond with.

at the end of the day, the "thank you for becoming our monster" thing just makes it seem like attack on titan's core message is "war is horrible, but it is necessary." it feels like it's justifying massacre. and while fiction is fiction, and sometimes it's as simple as that, i think something as politically loaded as attack on titan needs to be looked at with a critical lens when discussing what it’s trying to say or what it means.

do i think it makes someone a Bad Person for liking aot or being attached to it in some way? no, because that’s dumb, and what media someone likes =/= their Moral Goodness TM. ofc trends are a thing and certain pieces of media appeal to certain types of people, but it’s a false equivalency that misses the point.

but by that same breath, nobody is wrong or stupid or has Less Valid Opinions just because what they took away from it makes them uncomfortable.

i’m sorry this is So Long i have so many thoughts about this dskljfslkj

but at the end of the day,

levi sexy

#kacchan 💕#rowan rambles #rowan watches attack on titan #attack on titan spoilers #attack on titan tw

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romansleftshoulderpad · 5 years

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Chapter Four - Origins

How am I Going to be an Optimist About This?

Words: 2,277

Ship: None

Warnings: Remus and Deceit as characters, body mutation, caps, verbal arguments, swearing

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck@madly-handsome@strickenwithclairvoyance@limitededitionsanderssidesblog@ab-artist@sometimeswritingsometimesdying @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @because-were-fam-ily @gattonero17 @analogical-mess @joaniejustwokeup @whycantihavemorethan32characters

---

As time went on, Patton was increasingly aware of how late it was. On the bright side, at least Roman was willing to video chat with him at 2 in the morning. “We’re never listening to one of Remus’s ideas EVER again!”

“Okay, okay, that’s on us,” Roman said. Patton shot him a glare. “Okay, me, that’s on me. Do you think Logan is going to get powers?”

“You are the worst,” Patton said. “Literally the worst.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Because Virgil didn’t give me the jar.”

“I have a feeling that you’re mad at me.”

“Do you now?” Patton asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, the skin around your eye is a little, uh, you know,” Roman said. “Just keep your eye shut, tell your parents you have pink eye, and then stay home.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, Virgil and I will be over tomorrow after school. Just text me your address and we can sort this all out tomorrow- test your powers and all that.”

“What about my eye?” Patton asked.

“Well Virgil’s arm went back to normal after a few days,” Roman said. “But then again, he turned purple before he got possessed. I’m not so sure in your case.”

“This isn’t fair. How come Virgil and I get all mutated but you look fine?”

“Excuse you! I have grey roots coming in!”

Patton took a deep breath, knowing that if he screamed he’d get in trouble for being up so late. “My eye is yellow, Roman! YELLOW!”

“Okay, okay,” Roman said, failing to hide his laugh. “Get some rest, you snake-eyed infant. Virgil and I will be around tomorrow afternoon.”

“What about Logan?”

Roman sat back for a moment, stretching out his face in his hands with a sigh. “Logan is... we’ll see. Expect me and Virgil, we’ll see if Specs is up to the challenge.”

“Okay,” Patton whispered. “Okay.”

“Goodnight, kiddo,” Roman laughed.

“Kiddo?” Patton asked but Roman had ended the call before giving a straight answer. He sighed and picked up an old teddy bear. He hugged the stuffed animal to his chest and sighed. “Well, Jack, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Despite Patton’s mind racing with questions, it was late and his body was quick to shut down as soon as his head hit the pillow. His mind felt so active as he slept, as if his brain were made of snakes, untangling themselves and moving in any and all directions. His mind was plagued by a thousand philosophers all speaking in unison with conflicting words and values. It was all so much. So much noise. So much light. So many contradictions!

Patton had slept for six hours, but it had hardly felt like more than fifteen minutes. His head was pounding and he wished he could forget about all of the previous night’s events. He wished he could wake up and this would all be a bad dream. They would have never gone to the cave and Patton would be fine still just hanging out with Emile. No caves, no smoke, nor Roman or Virgil or Logan.

“Moooooooom!” he yelled, not even having the energy to get out of bed. “I don’t feeeeel goooood!” He kept his right eye shut tightly.

“Patton, you can’t just skip school every time you- oh dear lord,” his mother said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Your eye looks terrible.”

“I think I should stay home,” he said. “Pink eye is awfully contagious.”

“Oh I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Just for today though, okay?”

Patton almost lost his façade. Convincing his mom to let him stay home had never been this easy before, and it always ended with him in some agreement to clean the house. Why was this time so different?

“Thanks, Mama,” he cooed with a bright smile.

“But if you’re staying home, you should at least give yourself a break from that binder. I know what those things can do to your ribs.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

“I love you, Cupcake.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Patton had gotten dressed quickly, hiding his torso in a large grey hoodie, and grabbed his computer and notebook. He could remember the names of a few philosophers from his dream and he was determined to learn as much about them as possible. He started with the Greeks and, as he saw his reflection in his webcam, decided to write himself a reminder to read up on the gorgon sisters.

He read and reread articles as he wrote notes for the second, third, and fifth time. The names Kant, Plato, and Max Stirner popped up a lot. Patton decided that he certainly did not like Mr. Stirner.

When he heard the doorbell ring he got up in a panic. “Oh, fiddlesticks,” he swore as he looked at the time. He stumbled as he ran out of the room, his body weak from not eating all day.

“Friends of Patton? He didn’t tell me he was having friends over,” he heard his mom saying as he ran through the kitchen.

“It’s sort of last minute,” Roman explained. “We wanted to help him study!”

“Oh! Well, I’m Dot, it’s nice to meet you boys.”

“Roman Duke,” he said with a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Cupcake, your friends are here,” his mom said with a smile.

“Cupcake?” Virgil asked with a laugh. Patton wanted to hit his head against a wall.

“OkaycoolthanksMombyenow!” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s hand and running out towards his room. Only, he froze at the door. He hadn’t had time to clean or hide anything. What if they all thought he was childish?

“Patton, did you forget how to open a door?” Logan asked.

“Can we talk out here?”

“I, uh, don’t think that’s our best bet,” Virgil explained. “We need to keep this between us.”

“Okay,” Patton said with a sigh. He opened the door and drowned in the embarrassment of his pink walls and the stuffed animals and dolls that lined his shelves. “Watch your step,” he warned, pointing to the pile of broken glass on the ground. “I, uh, forgot to clean that earlier.”

“Are you okay?” Roman asked. “You’re, like, wobbling or something.”

“I, uh, I’ve been so busy with research,” he explained. “I haven’t had lunch yet. Or, you know, breakfast.”

Roman dropped his book bag in the hallway and pulled something out of it. It was the first time that Patton had noticed that only Roman brought anything in with him. He pulled out a foil rectangle and paused before asking, “You’re not vegan, are you?”

“No,” Patton said.

“Great.” Roman tossed him the foil. “Ham and cheese. Eat up, Kiddo.”

“Thanks, Ro.”

“Oh shit what happened to your eye?” Virgil asked, completely ruining the moment.

“Same thing that happened to your arm.”

“Curious,” Logan said, walking up to Patton and grabbing his face. He poked and prodded at the boy almost as if he forgot he was interacting with another human being. “Very curious.”

“Logan, he’s not a toy,” Virgil said.

“His eye isn’t human.”

“Logan.”

“Maybe this is irreversible.”

“What?!”

“LOGAN ZANDER HAMILTON!” Virgil shouted. “Let go of him.”

Logan released Patton, who quickly wiggled away with his sandwich in hand. Roman couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Your name is Logan Zander Hamilton?”

“Don’t.”

“Logan Zander Hamilton,” Roman sang. “Your name is Logan Zander Hamilton.”

“You’re dead to me.”

“You’re lame,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out like a child.

“Anyway,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. ��Patton, have you had any powers yet?”

“Powers?”

“Anything odd, no matter how small it might seem.”

“I guess?” Patton said. “We should probably step inside.”

All four boys awkwardly stepped around the glass with Virgil and Roman going to sit on Patton’s bed and Logan staying far away on the office chair. “My mom just... let me skip school today,” he said. “No negotiations or protests. I just said I shouldn’t go and she agreed. That never happens!”

“We can’t rule out the possibility of mind control,” Roman said.

“What’s this?” Logan asked, picking up Patton’s notes.

“It’s a notebook, dipshit.”

“Chingas a tu madre.”

“Love you too.”

“Cut it out, Roman,” Virgil scolded.

“I was taking some notes earlier,” Patton explained. “You can take a look if you’d like, but I don’t know if it’ll do us any good.”

“Researching famous philosophers?” Logan asked, his voice sounding genuine for once. “I’m impressed.”

“Has, uh, He told you anything?” Virgil asked. “Remus, he called me ‘Fear’s pet’ and I know that means something.”

“Remus talks to me, sometimes,” Roman admitted. “Giving me... instructions.”

“Like giving me the jar.”

“Like giving you the jar. Sorry about that.”

“Apology considered,” Patton said.

“He talks about Fear sometimes,” he said. He turned to face Patton. “Of Morality.”

“And Knowledge,” Virgil said quietly. “The enemy of fear.”

“So there’s still another one of you guys out there?” Logan asked, looking up from Patton’s notes. “You have incredible handwriting.”

“I try,” Patton said with a smile.

“Not exactly,” Virgil said, exchanging a glance with Roman.

“No,” Roman said. “No way.”

“Roman, if we just follow the plan-”

“No! No, we’re solving one problem at a time and right now that means Patton. Nothing else.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

“The Fourth Spir-“

“This doesn’t concern you, Logan!” Roman yelled.

“Or maybe you can let Virgil speak, asshole,” Logan said.

“Logan, seriously, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“No, you aren’t! None of you care about ‘protecting’ me, you just expect me to solve your problems until things get serious and then you act like I don’t matter!” he yelled. “I’m real fucking sorry that I’m not a complete fucking dumbass who purposefully gets himself involved in this shit-“ He glared at Patton- “but that doesn’t mean you can just exclude me!”

“Lo, I don’t want to exclude you which is why-“

“I don’t have time for your excuses, Virgil,” he snapped. “I’m leaving.”

“How? I’m your ride home,” Virgil said.

“I’ll walk!” And with that, Logan stormed out of the room, slamming the door and causing several toys to fall to the ground. Patton flinched as he ate the last of Roman’s sandwich.

“I’m sorry about that, Patton,” Virgil said. “Roman can be a bit of a drama queen.”

“Oh, you are not blaming this on me!”

“He said it himself that he wants to be included.”

“You know what we went through, Virgil. What Patton went though! I’m not dragging another person into this!”

“But Patton is okay?”

“Are you kidding me?! I feel like shit because of that!”

“Guys, please,” Patton whispered. “Stop fighting. It’s making my head hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Patton. It’s just that- okay, yeah, not helping your head. Sorry.”

“What are you debating?” he asked.

“Logan,” Virgil said.

“And... the fourth Spirit.”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Patton said.

“There’s a way to summon Him- the Spirit of Knowledge. I- I just know it,” Virgil said. “And I think that power should go to Logan. He deserves it more than anyone else I know.”

“But does he deserve the pain?” Roman asked. “Does he deserve to suffocate while faced with the knowledge that his life will never be the same ever again.”

“After that first night? None of our lives will ever be.”

“Our high school lives. What happens when we get older? Go to college? Are you really going to force Logan to be reliant on all of us just because you have a cr-“

“Roman, that’s enough,” Virgil said, the lights in the room going in and out as sparkes jumped between his fingertips.

“Okay, before Virgil destroys my bedroom,” Patton said, grabbing a fresh notebook and taking a seat at the office chair. He scribbled something down quickly in chicken scratch that looked nothing like the handwriting that Logan has complimented. He spun the chair around to face Virgil and Roman. “Have either of you actually asked Logan what he thinks about this?”

“We, uh, well-“

“No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Patton said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Virgil, you want to make Logan feel included but by keeping this discussion a secret you’re only excluding him even further.”

Virgil nodded, biting his lip as he looked away in shame.

“And Roman,” Patton continued, “not everyone wants to be saved. You can’t protect Logan without him needing to be protected. He’s been with us so far and isn’t it better that we’re a team instead of strangers with these powers?”

“Is one of your powers being captain of the debate team?” Roman asked.

“Nope!” Patton said with a proud smile. “But I am campaigning for that next year!”

“Smart kid,” Virgil said. “Hey, I think your eye is getting better.”

Patton pulled out his phone and examined himself in the camera. “The skin around it is,” he said. “Still yellow, though.”

“Maybe it’s an acceptance thing,” Roman said. He shrugged as the other two gave him questioning looks. “I’ve just noticed that the faster you come to terms with this bullshit, the faster you’re, uh, mutations go away.”

“Roman, you moron, you might be into something.”

“Okay, now you’re sounding like Logan.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Virgil said. “Oh, my cousin is having a Halloween party. Make sure you guys are there.”

“Weird plug, but go on.”

“Think about it, it’s the perfect chance to meet up and, if it’s what Logan chooses, summon the Spirit of Knowledge,” he explained. “And purple skin and a snake eye?” He gestured with his arms open as he leaned back. “No one will question it on Halloween.”

#sanders sides fic

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marveliter · 5 years

Text

Sky High

Summary: Bruce Banner comes out from surgery and is high as a kite on anesthesia as he lays in his hospital bed. Thank God he has his girlfriend Betty Ross to keep him company, and make her laugh.

Characters: Betty Ross, Bruce Banner and Hulk! (texting the Avengers!)

Warnings: a cursing Bruce Banner, just hospital stuff (Incase y’all don’t like reading that kind of stuff ;) )

A/N: a video of people being goofy on anesthesia came up for me on YouTube and I can’t stop thinking about something like this happening! I’ve never been admitted to a hospital or surgery, so if I have anything wrong please let me know! Enjoy! :)

Tony: Is he out yet?

Betty texted back.

I’m being led to his room now!

Tony replied, Damn I wish I was there. Take a video for me when he’s high as a kite.

Betty sent back a thumbs up emoji and a smiley face. She was already giggling as she followed the kind nurse down the hallway of the hospital. Bruce had gotten out of surgery thirty minutes prior to Betty being able to see him. He had been complaining for a few days about his stomach hurting, but brushed it off thinking he had food poisoning. Bruce was vomiting, but when he woke up at four in the morning with severe abdominal pain that restricted him from moving, Betty drove him to the hospital.

She was happy Hulk didn’t make an appearance in case he would accidentally rupture Bruce’s appendix. He was monitored closely and given pain meds before going into the procedure. During that, Betty thought he looked dead, mindless, unmoving like a corpse. She hated seeing him in so much pain, hated seeing him with dark, heavy bags underneath his eyes. When she held his hand as he was being rolled into surgery, he never squeezed her back. He didn’t even curl his fingers. Upon calling Pepper and Tony, who they lived with in Stark Tower, they reassured her Bruce would be fine. It was for sure the pain meds that made him still.

“Imagine him then on anesthesia,” Pepper had giggled. “You’ll be laughing so hard!”

“Betty, you need to get me a video of that.” Tony had said coldly, in a laughing manner. “My life depends on it!”

“Bruce did great in surgery.” The nurse smiled at Betty. “You have to make sure that he stays down in bed so he won’t rip his stitches. We’ll have nurses coming in and out of the room to check on him, but other than that it’s just you and him. You’ll want to keep your phone out, he’s going to be a little loopy.”

Betty laughed along with her as the nurse stopped at a room, knocked on the door and entered. Following inside, Betty noticed another nurse pressing buttons on a monitor, and lying in a hospital bed in the middle of the room was Bruce.

He looked like he woke up from a ten year nap; his curly brown hair was a matted and total mess, his scruff didn’t make him look any better (he looked like a bum), his eyes were bloodshot and his hospital gown was falling off his right shoulder. Wires looped in and out of his gown over his shoulders, the pulse oximetry was on his left index finger, and in his right hand loosely draping over the side of the hospital bed rail was a cup filled with water. His tired brown eyes stared across the room, unmoving as Betty stood right next to the bed. The second nurse in the room waited until the first one who walked with Betty said goodbye to her.

“Bye Bruce,” the second nurse smiled as she and the other left. Bruce, dazed as all hell didn’t reply as he kept staring at the wall on the other side of the room.

Betty smiled as she sat in the comfy chair behind her so she could sit closer to Bruce.

“Hi Bruce,” Betty whispered kindly as she brushed a few loose strands his Bruce’s curls out from his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Instead of answering, Bruce snapped out of his stare, and looked up at Betty’s hand that remained on his head.

“Oh my God. . .” His voice was gravely, like he just woke up. “I have a third hand!”

Betty started giggling and shook her head. “No, Bruce, it’s me,” As she took her hand off his head, Bruce finally turned to Betty, his bloodshot eyes taking her in. His brows furrowed deeply and his eyes squinted.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked. Betty laughed, which only caused more confusion for Bruce.

“Betty, your girlfriend.”

Suddenly, Bruce’s tired eyes grew wide.

“Girlfriend?” He asked in surprise. As Betty nodded, he gasped, “Holy shit!” Betty started giggling.

“Why are you laughing?” Bruce asked, his expression turning sour.

It took Betty a second to reply, “Because you’re so funny!”

“I didn’t say anything funny,” Bruce closed his eyes and scoffed, turning his head the other way.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Betty said, coming down from all the giggles. “How are you feeling?”

With his eyes still closed, Bruce turned his head back to face the ceiling, as he began laughing.

“I feel good,” he chuckled. “Soooo goooood. . .”

Betty smiled, “That’s good, better than how you were feeling early this morning.”

Bruce laughed in a daze, “Was I in pain?”

“Yes,” Betty replied, brushing his hair. “Your appendix was on the verge of exploding. You just had surgery to remove it.”

Suddenly, Bruce’s eyes opened and he stopped laughing. He locked eyes with Betty, and immediately his eyes became glossy.

“What?” He asked. “They removed my dick?!” Betty screamed with laughter as she shook her head.

“Betsy, this isn’t funny!” Bruce yelled, lifting the blanket and looking down. “HOLY SHIT I’M NAKED!”

“Bruce! Shh!” Betty was still laughing as she brushed Bruce’s hair and face. “Baby, you gotta be quiet,” she took his cup from his hand that draped over the bedside rail and placed it on the nightstand on her right.

“They took out your appendix,” Betty said as she sat back down in the chair.

Bruce sighed heavily in relief as he put the blanket down and threw his head back onto the pillow.

“Thank God. . .” he whispered. “I was so scared for a second there Betsy, I don’t know what I’d do if—”

“Betty. My name is Betty,” Betty corrected him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,”

“Oh.” Bruce stared up at the ceiling. “And you’re my girlfriend?”

“Yes,”

“Holy shit.” Bruce whispered. “How long have we been together?”

Betty smiled as she caressed his cheek. “A while.”

“You’re so pretty,” Bruce sighed.

“Thank you,” Betty smiled as her thumb ran down his scruff.

Bruce’s left hand touched her hand on his cheek, but he jumped upon feeling his beard.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“What’s what?”

“The thing on my cheek. . .” Bruce’s hand gently petted his scruff before he was full on rubbing his cheek in circles. Betty decided thay for Tony, she’d record this. While her phone was recording Bruce touching his cheek, she told him to feel the other side.

“Oh my God!” Bruce jumped again at the feel of his scruff. “It’s on this one too!”

“Bruce, say hi to Tony and Pepper,”

That’s when Bruce stopped and turned to the camera. “Who the fuck are Tony and Pepper?” Betty laughed and put her phone down.

“Stop cursing!” She whispered.

“Oh, my bad baby,” Bruce said, closing his eyes as he continued touching his scruff.

As Betty sent the video to Tony and Pepper, Bruce has stopped touching his scruff and began staring up at the ceiling. When the video was sent to them, Betty snickered to herself as she decided to send the video to the other Avengers. Just as she finished that, Tony replied to her in her and Pepper’s group chat.

That’s it? I need more!

Betty sent back a reply about what Bruce said and did when she wasn’t recording. Pepper had responded with laughing emojis and asked if he said anything new now. Just as Betty was going to reply, Bruce spoke up.

“Babe,” he said. “My eyes are thirsty.”

Betty froze, hoping she heard him right. “What?”

“My eyes are thirsty! They’re burning! I need water!”

That’s when Betty saw his face, and how he had been staring at the ceiling this whole time. Bruce had tears falling down the sides of his face.

“Bruce, honey—blink.” Betty covered her mouth as Bruce did what he was told. He looked relieved when he began blinking rapidly. Taking the cup from the nightstand, Betty walked over to the side of the room to grab a straw for him.

“Wait,” Bruce said, raising his hand. “So if you’re my girlfriend, and we’ve been dating for a while now, I’m just wondering. . .have we kissed yet?” Betty smiled as she placed the straw in the cup and walked back over to Bruce.

“Oh yeah, lots of times.” She smiled, handing him the cup. Betty then pulled the rail down and sat on the side of the bed. She wiped the tears from his face as Bruce sucked on the straw.

“We’ve only kissed?” Bruce asked.

“No,” Betty smiled small. “We’ve done other things.”

“Other things?” Bruce asked with a raised brow. Betty nodded and giggled as she placed her hand on his thigh and patted it. Bruce’s brown eyes went wide as he put the straw in his mouth.

“Oh. . .” He muttered.

Just then, one of the nurses from before came in to check Bruce’s monitors.

“Hey Bruce, how are you feeling?”

“I’m going to Hell!” Bruce exclaimed. Betty laughed and shook her head, asking Bruce to be quiet.

“What?” one of the nurses playfully asked. “I don’t think so.”

“No, I am! Betsy just told me we do things together!” Bruce exclaimed. “Oh my God, this goes against everything I was told growing up.”

“Bruce, honey, shut up.” Betty whispered.

“What are the things we do?” Bruce whispered back to Betty, not so much in volume as a whisper. “Are they as bad as I think?” The nurse laughed quietly as she left the room.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Betty giggled.

“We should get married before doing that stuff.” Bruce said, his head turned in the other direction.

“I think you need to propose first.” Betty smirked.

Bruce turned his head over to Betty with creased brows. “Well maybe you should propose!”

Betty laughed as she started brushing his hair once more. Bruce took a sip of his water as his eyes started fluttering shut. Betty grabbed the cup as Bruce’s hand was lowering, and the rest of him was calming down into slumber. His head was back on the pillow, and he sighed deeply, fully relaxing into sleep.

Betty turned around and placed the cup back on the nightstand. She pulled her phone out to see the many texts from the other Avengers from the video she sent. Steve asked how he was doing and Thor also asked for more funny videos of Bruce. Natasha and Clint were asking if Bruce had spilled any dirty secrets. After she replied to everyone, she sat back down in the chair, watching Bruce sleep. Betty soon fell asleep as well, but was waken up an hour later from someone shaking her.

“Beverly!” Bruce whispered, leaning over his bed with a hand on Betty’s shoulder. Betty sat up wide awake, pushing Bruce back down on the bed.

“You can’t sit up!” She whispered, pulling back his blanket and the hem of his shirt to check his stitches. Bruce was right about one thing: he was stark naked from the waist down.

“Someone’s here Bev!” Bruce exclaimed as Betty pulled the blanket back over him.

“You could’ve torn your stitches, stop moving.” She said sternly.

“But I heard someone Bev!” Bruce’s eyes were still bloodshot and dark with bags.

“It was probably one of the nurses,”

“No, it was a man, he sounded like an animal. . .”

“What did he say?” Betty asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

“He said, ‘Where are we?’” Bruce spoke in a growling, almost monstrous tone. “He didn’t sound nice Beverly,”

Betty smiled and tried to contain her laughter. She knew it had to be Hulk, and what she found interesting was that maybe Hulk wasn’t affected by the medicine.

“Do you need something to drink baby?” Betty asked.

“No thanks Bev,” Bruce replied softly, his expression in utter bewilderment.

Bruce was lying still until his brown eyes met Betty’s blue ones.

“He’s saying your name’s Betty,” Bruce whispered, as if he was being listened to.

“My name is Betty,” Betty smiled.

Suddenly, Bruce’s face contorted in confusion, and in seconds his eyes welled up with tears.

“Oh my God!” He cried, covering his face. “I’m a bad boyfriend!”

Betty burst out laughing, “No! Bruce, you’re not a bad boyfriend, you’re on anesthesia, remember?”

“Who’s Anastasia?” Bruce sobbed. Betty began laughing harder, which made Bruce cry more. “Stop laughing at me!”

“But you’re so funny!” Betty caressed his cheek. “You know I love you baby,”

Bruce started calming down and sloppily wiped his eyes.

“I love you too Betty,” He looked like a mess. A horrible, adorable mess. “I love you sooo much!”

“I love you so much,” Betty kissed his forehead.

“He’s calling me weird,” Bruce sniffed.

“I don’t think Hulk understands that you’re on medicine right now.” Betty brushed his hair with one hand while the other held Bruce’s.

“Hulk?” Bruce asked. “Oh! Yeah! I love him. I don’t know if he knows, but I love him. I love him sooo much.”

“You do?” Betty asked with a smile. She had never heard Bruce say it like that. Bruce only ever said he accepted Hulk, which was hard enough. “You should tell him that.”

That’s when Bruce shouted, “I LOVE YOU HULK!”

“Bruce! Shh!” Betty giggles.

“Oh, right, the drugs,” Bruce said, sniffing. “I love him because he protects you.”

Betty smiled, “I love him because he protects you.”

“I’ll never let anything happen to you, Berry, I love you way too much for anything bad to happen. I’m a motherfucking Avenger! Avenging shit is my jam!”

“Bruce!”

“Oh shit, my bad baby.”

#bruce banner #betty ross #hulk #avengers #marvel #tony stark #pepper potts #iron man #betty x bruce #bretty #the incredible hulk #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

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tierthree · 5 years

Note

Can I get uhh continuation to that movie date👀👀I've been thirsting hard for Billy Loomis too much

a/n: sorry this took so long i got really into the goddamn exposition

word count: 2099

nsfw under cut !

After the impromptu handjob at the movie theatre, you and Billy had grown considerably closer, as you would expect. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends and classmates, Tatum especially.

She slides a scrap of paper across the desk and, when you open it, you find a note asking for all the ‘juicy details’ of your date. You scowl at her, though there’s a cheeky glint in your eyes that clues her in a little to what really went on. However, maths class wasn’t the time or place to discuss this, so you crumple the paper in your fist and make a mental note to throw it out when you get the chance.

As soon as the bell rings, Tatum is by your side and grabbing your arm excitedly.

“Sooo, come on, tell me everything! I need to know,” she insists, shaking you like a rag doll. You can’t fight the grin that spreads across your face and a blush threatens to creep up your cheeks.

“Well, you know… we went to go see that movie, but, uh…”

“Lemme guess,” Tatum fills in for you, a mischievous expression overtaking her features, “you were too busy doing this -” She makes an obscene gesture and you laugh and swat her - “to pay attention to the movie?”

“…That’s the long and short of it, yeah.”

Now placated, Tatum doesn’t pester you for any more details, instead giggling at how flustered you seem.

The two of you make your way to the canteen to grab some shitty food before making your way to the spot on the front lawn where you and the usual suspects - Sidney, Billy, Stu, and Randy - sit normally. Tatum plops herself next to Stu, who immediately has his hands all over her, whilst you hover awkwardly until Billy has the decency to offer you a seat.

“Hi,” he greets you, his hand ghosting your thigh. You smile at him and take it, squeezing it. Too forward? He doesn’t pull away. Stu immediately clocks this.

“Ooooh, Bill-ay!” he teases, a mocking simper on his face. Billy scowls and Stu immediately goes on the defensive, holding his hands up in surrender. Tatum is giggling, but also pulling at his arm to try and stop him from getting into a fight he won’t win with his friend.

“Shut it, Stu,” Billy grumbles. His grip on your hand tightens as he tries to clench his fists and seems to notice that he’s still holding you, his eyes widening.

Stu gets the message and lays off, leaning back into Tatum’s arms and making her complain about how he’s too heavy. The subject of the nature of yours and Billy’s relationship is momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, yeah, uh, I was thinking of having a party tonight. Not a big one, but we can just, y’know, hang out and watch movies,” he suggests, and Sidney rolls her eyes.

“We’re not watching Halloween again,” Sidney sighs. That’s the voice of a girl who’s tired of seeing JLC’s face. Stu rolls his eyes; he’ll probably end up sticking the VHS in at some point anyway, regardless of what Sid thinks of horror flicks.

“Well, are you guys up for it?”

You all agree to a time and Tatum assures you and Sidney that she can convince Dewey to drop you guys off. With the plans for the evening set, you part ways when the bell for next lesson rings. You don’t notice Billy watching you leave.

The rest of the day drags, the knowledge of your evening’s schedule making you itch to leave. Finally, when it comes to eight p.m., Dewey drops you, Sidney, and Tatum off in front of Stu’s parents’ house - which is a veritable mansion by comparison to your own home -, though not before giving his sister a lecture on staying safe. She rolls her eyes and waves him off as the three of you enter the house and are immediately greeted by the host.

“Goooood evening!” Stu hoots, cramming a fistful of popcorn into his mouth before beckoning you into the living room.

Billy slouches on the sofa as he stares blankly into space, though he sits up a little straighter when he sees you come in. Randy is by the TV, rewinding a tape with a pencil. He beams at the three of you, greeting you excitedly, whilst Billy just nods at you in acknowledgement. You take a seat next to him and bagsy the comfiest spot on the sofa and Tatum and Sidney squeeze next to you. Seeing his opportunity to continue as the clown of the group, Stu plonks himself in Sidney’s lap, laughing raucously as she tries to push him off.

“Stu!” she squeals.

He grins, draws out the moment a bit longer, and then gets up, moving some of the furniture around so that everyone in the group can sit comfortably. He’s brought out one of those blow-up chairs which he sits on like a throne.

Once Randy has successfully wound the VHS back to the start, he slots it into the player and the familiar opening of ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ shows on the screen. He takes a seat and you find yourself pressed against Billy. You weren’t sure if either of you could make it through this movie without a repeat of the date you’d had. You swallow thickly. A pair of brown eyes search your own and a flush makes its way to your cheeks.

“How’ve you been?” he asks quietly, gritting his teeth when Stu throws a popcorn kernel at his head. He whips his head around to glare at him. “You’ve seen this movie at least twenty times!”

“Twenty-two, actually!”

You barely suppress your laughter. The two of you would just have to wait a little.

A gasp escapes you as Billy snakes an arm around your shoulders, then trails it down your body restlessly to give your thigh a squeeze. He wasn’t going to do that in front of your friends, was he? But he leaves his hand there.

Once the movie finished, with Sidney begrudgingly paying attention, Randy commentating, and the rest of you trying your hardest to concentrate, Billy looks at you, then jerks his head in the direction of the stairs. Is he…?

Without a word, he stands and stretches, then makes his way upstairs. You follow him completely unthinkingly and unaware of the eyes on your back. Tatum, of course, knows, but she says nothing. The room is filled with the sounds of Randy ranting about Freddy Krueger and Stu offering to make some more popcorn as you leave. You feel as though you’re carried by some unknown force up the stairs and the ajar wooden door in front of you is inviting.

“Billy…?” you call softly, peering around the door. He’s sat on the edge of Stu’s parents bed. It’s a little… uncomfortable to mess around in their bedroom, with the floral sheets and the unmistakable smell of your friend’s mother’s perfume, but you have no better options.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his face curling devilishly and his dark eyes glinting. “You alright?”

Nodding, you venture over to the bed and tentatively perch yourself next to him, immediately to be greeted with Billy’s hand on your thigh again, though his touch is more forceful this time. He’s tired of holding off.

You turn to him and your lips crash together in a messy, desperate union. Your moans are muffled in each other’s mouths which you’re quite thankful for; you don’t want any more teasing from your friends downstairs. Eventually, they all dissipate from your thoughts, with your lust and Billy’s being the only things on your mind.

When you pull away for breath, Billy manages to say one thing before he pins you to the mattress: “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

His hands tug at the hem of your shirt insistently as he pulls it over your head and ducks his face down to your chest, meanly nipping at your hardening nipples and eliciting a surprised yelp from you. This spurs him on; his teeth are soon at your neck and, despite your weak protests, he leaves a purple hickey for everyone to see.

“Wh-What’s everyone gonna say when they - ah - see that?” you whimper between gasps and moans. He just grins at you like the cat that got the cream. He doesn’t allow you the satisfaction of an answer, seeking it in other ways - like by unbuttoning your pants and shoving his hand into the warmth between your thighs, your skin prevented from touching by a thin layer of cotton. You squirm and rock against his palm and he sucks in a breath through his teeth. His own jeans are painfully tight. There’s something about watching you come undone underneath him that’s so incredibly right.

His own clothes are soon to follow yours, slapping your hands away when you try to help him; he wants you to watch as he shucks his trousers off and slowly, slowly peels his boxers off, his cock immediately springing to attention. He’s well-groomed and a length that’s appealing and not too intimidating - maybe five inches? Your mouth waters at the sight.

“See something you like?” he purrs and you drape an arm across your face in embarrassment, which he soon removes firmly. “Nuh uh, I wanna see you.”

He discards your pants on the floor and slides your underwear down. Once it’s down to your ankles, he presses a finger to your cunt and withdraws it to see the glistening strand of slick clinging to it.

“You’re that wet already?”

“C’mon, Billy, don’t tease,” you whine, writhing your hips needily.

He momentarily takes in the situation before he slides between your legs, his ruddy head leaking precum and pressing against your clit tantalisingly; then, he adjusts and eases his way inside. The both of you moan.

“Holy shit, you’re tight,” Billy grunts through gritted teeth as your walls clench around him. You can’t respond; you’re too focused on the sensation of him stretching you out. Your hands are around his shoulders, digging your nails into his back when he moves after what seems to be a lifetime.

His hair flops in front of his face, which is misted with sweat, and he groans at every thrust. His eyes are completely focused on you - your expression, your flushed cheeks, your parted lips - as you grind your hips to meet his thrusts, setting a steady pace. His balls slap against your exposed skin and the room feels twenty degrees warmer. You squirm beneath him.

He leans in for another kiss that is eagerly reciprocated, so eagerly that your teeth clack and you’re both drooling but you’re so taken that neither of you care. It’s at this point that he reaches a hand between your bodies and presses a digit to your needy clit. Your own hand could never feel that good. He seems to know what he’s doing; he draws circles on the bundle of nerves and strokes it up and down, making your toes curl and your cunt flutter, in turn sending him into a frenzy. His thrusts pick up speed and all you can do is hang onto him desperately, tears welling in your eyes as he slams into you over and over and rubs your clit.

“B-Biily, I-” you stammer, and whilst the words don’t come, you do, with your mouth hanging agape and your whole body contracting. Your eyes roll back and in your moment of euphoria you vaguely acknowledge a breathy gasp from Billy. He says something strangled that you can’t make out. His grip has moved down to your hips, his bitten nails leaving crescent moons in the plush flesh, and he’s fucking into you like a jackrabbit. As you’re coming down, he reaches his peak, spurred on by the clenching of your insides, and a warmth spreads within you before he flops on top of you and lets his softening cock slip out. You’re both gasping for air and you blink away the blur in your vision. Gently, you rest a hand on his head, trailing your fingers through the slick hair.

“That was amazing,” you breathe.

“I know,” he crowed, “You squirted.”

If possible, your cheeks flush redder and you turn your gaze from his to the cream ceiling. The two of you lapse back into silence.

“What’re we gonna do about Stu’s parent’s bed?” is what Billy uses to eventually break the stillness. You finally register the cooling patch of wetness on the sheets and groan.

“Just shut up and hold me.”

#vintageratdoctor #billy loomis #scream (1996)#ghostface #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher #sidney prescott #randy meeks #tatum riley #slasher imagines #...i took some artistic liberties with this #i hope you enjoy it anyhow #took me long enough #ask t3 #t3 writing

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ladyshandioftheendless · 5 years

Text

StarChild Assassin: The Final Part

So..it’s come to an end at last.. Thank you all for taking this ride with me~ I appreciate all of your encouragement and your love for the crazy stuff I’ve written~ You guys rock!

~Shandi

While settling into their new jobs, Peter encounters a familiar face from his past, while Eric gives Paul a wonderful surprise.

LIPS LIKE POISON Part 20

Out of all the possible places for them to end up, Peter never dreamed getting away from his former turbulent life was what it would take to finally bring him to Vegas. It was everything he’d always hoped it would be. Big. Flashy. Loud. His holy land. It still amazed him that Eric remembered. The two-floor townhouse they lived in was only a few miles away from the bright lights of the Strip (Mostly to make the commute to work easier. Gene had a head for practicality after all). He found himself looking out the window every night with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time. Tomorrow he and Eric would be starting their new jobs.

One floor below Eric and Paul were settling into bed. Eric was still wearing a huge smile as he cuddled his boyfriend. “Did you see the look on Peter’s face? I hadn’t seen him look like that in years. It was just like the good old days~” Paul lazily stroked his boyfriend’s hair. “It makes me happy to see you happy, baby~ You excited to be playing again?” Eric sighed happily. “I can’t tell you how happy I am~ I’m not just playing alone, I’m playing with Peter! I…I think I’m gonna cry..”

“Awww, baby you are crying~”

“I’m emotional! Hold me!”

Paul laughed and held his boyfriend close, kissing his cheek and his lips. “Don’t lose it completely before you even start..I haven’t had a chance to watch you and yell ‘that’s my baby’~” Turning off the lights he stroked Eric’s chin to calm him, drifting off to sleep to the gentle sounds of his purrs.

In the morning Eric sat in front of the vanity mirror while Paul brushed and pinned up his hair. “I dunno how I feel about wearing a wig..” Paul huffed. “I will not have you doing terrible things to your gorgeous golden mane, baby. Besides..you can just think of it as part of your costume~”

“Well..yeah I guess that works for me~”

“I hoped you’d say that~” Paul took out the wig from its box and placed it on Eric’s head, adjusting it until it fit just right. “That feel okay? Not too tight?” Eric studied his reflection. He never thought shorter black hair would fit him so well. “It feels just fine, babe. Thanks~” Paul took a few steps back to admire his boyfriend from afar. “Nobody will ever be able to tell that’s not your real hair. I am good~” Eric grinned, grabbing his boyfriend’s waist and pulling him closer for a kiss. “You’re better than good, babe..you’re incredible~” He glanced up at the clock. “Oh shit we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave right now! Sorry to kiss and run! Seeya tonight!” He grabbed his keys, giving Paul one last kiss before rushing out the door…and nearly running into Peter. “‘Bout time y’got the lead out your ass! We gotta go!”

“I know..my fault..”

“Have a good day, you two~”

Peter’s eyes went wide as they turned onto the Strip. “Holy shit…everything is so much bigger than I imagined as a kid. There’s a wild energy in this place that you can feel as soon as you enter. I’m here. I’m workin’ here. If this is a dream I don’t ever wanna wake up.” Eric smiled. “Even if it is a dream I’m glad we’re sharing it~”

“Me too, Little Cat~”

‘Little Cat’. Hearing that nickname no longer hurt. And hearing Peter say it now gave Eric the most joy he’d felt since he met Paul. As they pulled into the hotel’s garage Peter caught sight of a very familiar statue. “W-what is this..? Where are we..?” Eric couldn’t keep himself from smiling any longer. “This is where we’re working now! The New York, New York! Thought I’d keep it a secret as a surprise~ You like?” Peter could only nod his head in stunned silence. “It’s like..being home away from home. You had this all planned out from the beginning didn’t ya?”

“Guilty as charged~”

“Bet your ass I got some words. But later cause we gotta get in there!”

After finally finding a parking space they booked it into the hotel in search of the Event Coordinator. A half an hour of getting totally lost later they managed to find her. “Excuse us!!” Eric yelled, completely out of breath. “Really sorry..ahh..we’re uh…Eric Mensinger and George Criscuola..we..applied for the stage show positions..?” The Coordinator huffed and them with her hands on her hips. “It’s about time you got here..I was about to mark you down as no-shows! Dressing rooms are this way! You got 15 minutes to get ready! Rehearsal’s in 20 and don’t worry about the makeup we’ll figure that out later!” Eric and Peter glanced at each other. So much for a no-pressure job. Once they were shown to their room they got to work picking out costumes. “Oh I like these~” Eric said, taking two that he favored off the rack. Here ya go..Panther~” Peter looked his costume over with amusement. “Panther eh? And what are you gonna be?” Eric grinned, holding up his shredded and spotted costume. “I’m Jaguar~”

“The Untamed Cats are loose again~”

Rehearsals went better than they expected. They were even applauded for their skills with their drum sets. Peter felt re-energized and Eric was just plain overjoyed. He knew his mentor hadn’t lost it completely. With their jobs secured they went back to their dressing room to change and celebrate with a drink. A feeling nagged at Eric that something wasn’t right. “I..didn’t leave the door open..did you..?” Peter shook his head. “I’ll check it out.” He pushed the door open slowly. Whoever was inside had their back turned to him, but he’d recognize those curves from fifty feet away.

“It really is a small world isn’t it..?”

“Vinnie..”

“Even with a different hair color I recognized you.” Vinnie turned to him, his face an impassive mask. “I like to visit the other hotels to watch the rehearsals for their new shows. I couldn’t believe it was you. I had to see for myself.” Peter nodded the all-clear to Eric and closed the door. They needed some time alone. “I’d ask how you got back here but I think I already know the answer. Are you..stayin’ here too?” Vinnie nodded. “I work at the Luxor. Quite a ways from here but something compelled me to come.”

“God knows why after all the shit I did to ya.”

“If you actually believe that what you did was wrong, you’ve already taken the first steps to changing.” Vinnie took a few steps closer. “For a long time I believed you were perfect. That your abuse was love. When you hurt me..I thought I deserved it. I was convinced I couldn’t do better. It takes an even longer time to see reality for what it truly is after your blinders are taken off.” Peter sighed deeply. “Can’t disagree there..”

“I never thought I’d hear you say those words. You really have changed~”

Peter sat in his chair at stared at himself in the mirror. “For a long time I kept tellin’ myself there was worth to what I did. I was takin’ my revenge out on the world for the shit I’d done to myself. I used people. I killed em. I stole. I cheated. And I didn’t give a damn about the consequences cause I thought I couldn’t be touched.” He pointed to the door. “That kid out there..he was the only one who saw through it all. He chased after me..he begged me to let him help me..even though I’d been tryin’ to kill him. If that’s not a fuckin’ wake up call I dunno what is.” Vinnie sat in the chair beside him. “Call me crazy but..in some strange way..maybe we were meant to meet again like this. Just to..show each other how much we’ve grown..” He reached out to touch Peter’s hair. “I want to try again with you. Even after everything…I thought my feelings for you would disappear..but seeing you again now just brought them all rushing back like a tidal wave. Let’s…let’s give ourselves a chance to love each other the right way..” At that moment Peter couldn’t find the words to reply. He just pulled Vinnie into a tight embrace. “You’re a fuckin’ jewel, Baby Doll and you deserve to be treated like one. If you really think I’m worth it then all I can give you is my word that I won’t fuck it up this time.” Vinnie nuzzled his neck. “Come see me at the Luxor tonight~ Room 1135.” When the door opened again Eric jerked his head up. Seeing Vinnie nod to him and leave he went inside. “Peter? Everything okay?” Peter was quiet for a while before he answered. “Hm? Oh yeah, fine. Just had to repair some bridges. Let’s get out of this stuff and get outta here huh? I wanna go home and freshen up for later.” Eric smirked. “Ohhhhh I see~” Peter sighed, already picturing the relentless teasing he’d have to put up with on the drive back home.

“Welcome home boys~!” Paul hugged them as soon as they walked in the door. “I hope you’re both hungry cause I ordered pizza!” Eric smiled and pulled his boyfriend close for a kiss. “Mm..you’re so thoughtful, babe. I’m starving~ Peter however..he’s got a date~” Paul’s eyes lit up. “You don’t say~?” They heard Peter stomp up the stairs in a huff. “Dammit Eric don’t make me smack your Little Cat ass!!” After hearing the door slam they burst into laughter. Kicking their own door closed, Eric ripped off his wig and tossed it onto the couch. “Ugggggh freedom!! I dunno how people can wear these things all the time..especially if they still have hair! They make your head sweat..and itch!” Paul helped him pull out the ridiculous amount of hairpins he’d used earlier that morning. “Poor baby~ Why don’t we eat..and then we can take a niiiice cool shower~?” Eric nodded eagerly. “Ohhhh babe that sounds goooood~ Let’s get into that pizza then cause I want in that shower like..hours ago.” While they had dinner Peter let himself in, dressed in a crisp white button up shirt with pinstriped slacks and vest, complete with his favorite black leather shoes. Paul had to do a double take. “Ohhhh my, baby..I didn’t know your Big Cat cleaned up so nicely~ Maybe I should have him take me out sometime~” Peter chuckled. “Sure why not? With you an’ Vinnie on my arms lookin’ pretty I’d be the envy of Vegas~” Paul choked on his drink. “Did you say Vinnie?!”

“Yeah I did. Met up with him earlier. I’m goin’ over to the Luxor to see him. Borrowin’ the car. Don’t wait up for me, kids~” He picked up the keys and was gone without another word. Paul was still in shock. “H-he didn’t just say Vinnie..did he..?”

“Yep. He did.”

“So it’s true?”

“Yep. Saw him myself.”

“Well, what are the odds..?”

“Astronomical..but here we are.”

“Oh this’ll be fun to tease him about~”

“I get to do it first~”

“No fair! You got to do it while you drove back here!”

Eric shot his boyfriend a suggestive look. “I’ll wrestle you for it~” Paul laughed. “You’re more than welcome to pin me to the floor..but..shower first~” He got up from his chair and grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, leading him to the bathroom. “Lemme take care of you, Pussy-Cat..I’ll even wash your hair~” Eric was already half way undressed. “Can’t say no to an offer like that~” Once the shower was ready Eric stepped in, closed his eyes and let himself relax. The cool water felt amazing. His boyfriend’s gentle hands just made the experience even better. He purred like a contented house cat while his hair was being washed which amused Paul to no end. “I hope I can get you purring like that in bed tonight~” Eric reached back to stroke his boyfriend’s thigh. “You keep using your hands like that and it’s all but guaranteed~” He groaned as his boyfriend grasped his cock and nibbled at his ear. “Why don’t we get a head start right now~?”

“Fuck yes…make me really purr, babe~”

They ended up staying in the shower for much longer than they intended.

Eric and Peter fell into their routine pretty easily. They rehearsed daily until the show was to open two months later. The morning of opening night Paul helped Eric apply his makeup and wig. “I saw a commercial for the show earlier~” Paul said as he painted on Eric’s ‘whiskers’. “’Come experience the Music of the Wild! Only at the New York, New York Hotel & Casino, the biggest urban jungle on the Strip!’ I can’t wait to see you tonight, baby..I’m so proud of you~” Eric’s blush was well hidden by his white facepaint. “Thanks, babe~ I’m so damn nervous but I’m excited too! Looking over at Peter always helps me calm down though, you know? I think as long as I do that I’ll be alright~” Paul kissed the top of his head. “You’re both gonna go up on stage and you’re gonna rock that show. I just know it. And I’ll be right there cheering you on~” There was a knock at the bathroom door. “Just me, Little Cat!” Peter said. “I’m ready to go whenever you are!” Eric exhaled, looking himself over in the mirror one last time. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Almost done! Be right out! Babe, since Peter’s got his own car now I’m gonna drive over with him so you can take our car to the show tonight. Don’t forget to get there early~” Paul took both of his boyfriend’s hands and squeezed them tightly. “I won’t, promise~ Go out there and kill ‘em, Jaguar~”

Driving over to the Strip was nothing short of chaotic, but by some miracle Paul managed it. After parking in the garage he raced into the hotel. While standing in line he reached into his jacket to find his ticket. Feeling someone tap his shoulder he turned, coming face to face with Vinnie. “You!”

“Yes. Me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“My guess is to see Peter.”

“Your guess is correct~”

Paul sighed and let his shoulders relax. “Of course you are. Sorry..sometimes I forget we’re not still in real New York. This place..brings back a lot of memories..” Vinnie nodded slowly. “It certainly does. Fortunately for us, our pasts were left back in real New York. I’m willing to forgive and forget if you are.” Paul took Vinnie’s hand and shook it. “We’ve come too far to let whatever happened fuck anything up now. It’s forgotten~” They handed over their tickets and went inside. The interior was beautiful and elaborately decorated to look like a jungle. Paul looked around in awe. “Wow..they really do go very big here don’t they?” Vinnie chuckled. “Well..it is Vegas~” While looking for their seats in the front row they discovered they sat only a small distance away from each other. Paul raised a curious eyebrow. “I’d say this was a coincidence but I don’t buy that for a second. Do you?” Vinnie shook his head. “No way in hell~” They both laughed quietly as the theater went dark.

The show was quite the spectacle. The dancers were beautifully painted to look like various jungle animals. The band was lined across the back of the stage with Eric and Peter’s drum sets on opposite ends. As the crowd applauded and cheered for them Paul struggled to fight back his tears. They were both incredible. And together they were magic. In the middle of the second act some of the dancers leapt from the stage prowled through the aisles, looking for people to take with them. Paul was completely caught off guard when one of the zebras took his hands and lifted him out of his seat. Before he knew it he was on the stage with a few other bewildered people, not knowing what they should do. He was so distracted by the other dancers he didn’t notice Eric climb down from his drum set and approach him. Only when his hand was taken did he stop looking around frantically and realize his boyfriend was there. “Oh my god, Eric what’s going on?!” he shouted, not even sure if he could be heard over the loud music. Eric just smiled and got down on one knee in front of him.

HE WASN’T!!

Sure enough Eric took a small box out of one of the pouches on his costume and opened it, revealing a gorgeous silver ring lined with small diamonds. Paul was struck absolutely speechless. He covered his mouth with a shaky hand, using all of the self control he could possibly manage to nod his head. It all seemed like a hazy dream. Eric stood, taking the ring from its box and slipping it onto his finger. The crowd cheered loudly. The dancers jumped around the stage in celebration. Paul saw none of it. All he saw was the man he was now engaged to. As they kissed the crowd went wild.

To everyone else this was just Vegas.

To Paul it was the most wonderful day of his entire life.

~END~

#Shandi's drabbles #KISS AU writings #the StarChild Assassin #LAST CHAPTER I'M CRYING #Eric and Paul are adorable bfs~#Peter gets some closure #haha I said I wasn't gonna give this a happy sappy ending~#OOPS #ANOTHER SUPER LONG ONE ENJOY

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tozierpunks · 5 years

Note

OMG OLEASE DO A PART 2 OF THE ROOMATE REDDIE IM DYING ITS SO GOOOOOD

Me @ me: You’re gonna drop the ball, don’t do it.Me @ this ask: I’m here to drop balls and eat spaghetti. And I’m all out of spaghetti.Part [1] Here!

From outside the apartment, Eddie could hear the bass of Richie’s speakers. Rolling his eyes, he tucked the mail into his bag and fumbled with his keys. A wave of warm air hit his face, carrying the scent of onions. In the kitchen, Richie held two meat mallets, smashing a poor chicken breast to the beat of Rock Me Amadeus. He danced around the narrow island counter, bobbing his head to the tune.

Eddie set the mail on the coffee table, hanging his messenger bag with the coats. The song faded into the next, and one of Eddie’s favorites began playing. Richie typically kept it on their shared 80′s playlist when he knew Eddie would be home. Glancing at Richie, he couldn’t help but laugh, watching him pretend to play a keyboard. He held the mallet to his face, dramatically singing.

Regardless of whether or not he would play along, Richie pantomimed swinging a lasso, throwing it around Eddie. He playfully tugged the imaginary rope, and Eddie couldn’t fight the smile. Hopping closer, he started mouthing the words with his roommate.

Using the term “roommate” felt strange, as accurate as it was. They’d grown up together; Eddie couldn’t remember a day without Richie. He’d known him as long as he’d known Bill, and they might as well have been born together. When they left their hometown, all of them electing to attend the University of Maine, the original plan was to rent a house together. It worked for six months, but house renting turned out to be expensive (and Stan was quick to say “I told you so”). Apartments weren’t much cheaper, but splitting the cost helped significantly.

The difficult part came when choosing the living arrangements. One complex didn’t rub Bev the right way. Another complex didn’t allow dogs, so Mike’s adorable Mr. Chips was an immediate disqualification. Nearly every complex failed to meet their room needs. So the breaking of the group came. They agreed on a complex, and drew straws. Or, well... the lads did. Bev chose to move in with girls from her class: Kay McCall and Audra Phillips. Ben, Bill, Stan and Mike shared a three bedroom across the hall from the girls. This left Richie and Eddie, and they were fortunate enough to snag a two bedroom in the building across the parking lot.

So for the past year and a half, Eddie lived with his lifelong best friend. A majority of the time, it was easy.

Then there were times like last month. Technically, one time. Eddie was trapped in Richie’s closet, Richie masturbated, and Eddie put the situation to bed without even thinking of touching it again.

Phil Collins’ “You Can’t Hurry Love” started playing, and Eddie snapped out of his thoughts, laughing upon realizing Richie was doing the Carlton dance.

“Richard, don’t!” he cackled, shaking his head. Richie pouted, grabbing his phone.

“What? You don’t like the song?” And without waiting for an answer, he skipped to the next. Tears For Fears. Everybody Wants to Rule the World. Possibly Eddie’s favorite song in the whole world. “C’mon, I know you love this one, Eds. Dance with me, why don’t ya?” One hand on his stomach, the other up in the air, holding an invisible partners’ hand, he two stepped his way closer.

“What have I told you about calling me Eds?” Eddie asked tiredly, although the small smile on his face suggested he wasn’t tired at all.

“It turns you on, right?”“Richard.”“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. You’re not too mad to dance, are you? It’s your favorite! Plus, I’ve been working all day on this chicken- I know you love spicy stuff, so I went out and bought that Cajun seasoning, I sauteed some onions. Eddie, I went all out on this,” he said. Eddie’s mouth twisted, and he peered over Richie’s shoulder to see the state of their kitchen.

Miraculously, the mess appeared to be at a minimum.

“Oh, fine, you got me,” he answered.

“Just not to this song!”“Wha- Richie, I love this song!”“Nope, too slow!”

Changing to the next in queue, he knew exactly what he was doing, because Eddie grinned and bobbed his head. Love Shack was a timeless classic, and arguably Richie’s favorite song from the 80′s. Incredible, considering Queen released the albums they did then. Of course, everyone’s favorite song was Bohemian Rhapsody; that went without saying, the rest of the music in the world was simply competing for second place.

The pair danced, not stopping until the timer buzzed almost a dozen songs later.

As Richie took out the chicken and checked it, Eddie looked through their mail. Usually it was only credit card offers which neither of them took; they already had one each, a financial move Ben advised them to make for credit building. Richie didn’t pay much attention as Eddie opened and trashed the letters.

“What’s the occasion, Rich?” he asked, pausing only to look at how Richie carefully plated the food.

“You really don’t know?”“I asked, didn’t I?”

Richie hesitated. If Eddie didn’t remember, he didn’t want to say. He continued to throw out the junk mail, and Richie racked his brains for a lie. Of course, before he could even attempt, Eddie froze.

In his hands - the last letter of the bunch - was a bright pink envelope, the size of a greeting card. Wordlessly, he opened it, pulling out the card and reading it. He got one yearly since he’d started school. Since he left Sonia. Richie waited for him to speak; he didn’t want to break the silence if it was what Eddie needed.

“That’s right,” he finally sighed. “Dad died today.”

Eddie didn’t think much of Frank Kaspbrak. His passing came when Eddie was a baby, but it affected the rest of his life. Sonia was a wreck without her husband. Richie knew how guilty Eddie felt cutting off contact. She wasn’t necessarily a bad mother; she liked his friends and always welcomed them in as they grew up. She accepted Eddie’s sexuality, and barked off anyone at their church who tried to say otherwise.

But Eddie’s worst - and unfortunately, most vivid - memories were of her sobbing in her room. She drank from time to time, scaring Eddie to death when she would drive to get more alcohol. Richie remembered times where he would steal booze from his parents to bring to Eddie, just so he wouldn’t panic over Sonia. Leaving her without a word on the hardest day of the year for her...

Richie thought a nice dinner might keep his mind occupied. He bought Love Simon on their Amazon account, and as a backup, he even bought Mean Girls. Eddie once said he didn’t care for the movie, but if he needed a pick-me-up, all he had to do was watch Lizzy Caplan shout, “Your mom’s chest hair!” and he would erupt in uncontrollable giggles.

“Aw Eds- Eddie, don’t cry,” Richie said softly, forgetting the dinner and approaching Eddie with his arms outstretched. “You’ve got your reasons for not calling. She’s an adult, and so are you, man.”

Eddie’s body trembled as he tried to hold back the tears. Yes, he was hurt over his mother. Yes, he wished he knew Frank enough to truly be sad over his death.

But no, that wasn’t why he cried.

Richie made a dinner for him. For an emotional day he didn’t even remember, but Richie did.

Pulling away, he wiped his eyes. Eddie cleared his throat, looking up at Richie. For a split second, Eddie thought he could kiss him. His heart skipped a beat and he almost felt himself leaning in closer.

But he didn’t.

“I’m fine, Rich, I just- it all hit me, you know?” he said, sniffling. Richie stared at him, uncertain. “I promise I’m okay- honestly, the smell of the chicken is making me hungry.” He laughed, and it sounded genuine. Richie seemed to believe it, handing his plate over.

“Well eat up, Eds. I have a whole night planned!” he exclaimed, turning on the TV. Eddie sat beside him, a tiny smile on his face.

He really was in love with his best friend, and Richie had no clue.

#reddie #THIS TURNED INTO A WHOLE ASS THING #Anonymous #prompts

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