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#i also think if i see a lukewarm take before watching it myself i am going to be disproportionally upset over it
gem-in-the-horizon · 1 month
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paprika posting under the cut
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doodle of the explorers getting along very well as per usual. onyx seems respectful of things like. people being alive. so he'd probably prevent paprika from maiming anyone
unrelated but I feel like zir and onyx would be gym buddies. they spot for each other and zir endlessly encourages onyx to have better posture which never happens
anyway, I also had this idea that would not leave my head until I drew it, so have some spice rack doodles
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oneirophobic · 9 months
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MESMERIZED - m. sturniolo ( ★ )
part of the 'summer fun' series
summary : you think water is such a beautiful thing, you know what matt thinks is a beautiful thing?
warnings : [ IMPLIED FEM!READER ] anxiety, mentions of depression, coping mechanisms, water, strong mother-daughter relationship, mentions of feet, reader wears a bikini, horrible dad joke, cat calling, no use of y/n, not proofread well
a/n : thanks for two hundred followers! (you guys got pranked so hard lol) sorry for not posting fics, i've been busy. this fic also has significance to me, i struggle with my mental health and use water to cope. if you're struggling yourself, do not be afraid to reach out to me, my dms are always open.
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ever since i was a baby, i was fond of the water, a water baby my mom would say. she'd sit me in between her legs in the shallow end of a lake we camped alongside. the water brushing against my small, fragile hips; releasing sweet giggles from me as i splashed the water onto her inked thighs. i'd fall asleep there in between her legs, eventually being dazed by the tiny fish that swam nibbling at her feet and the way her tattoos distorted under the ripples.
even when we were away from the lake, i'd refuse to get out of the tub until the tiny pads of my fingers looked like the raisins i had as a snack earlier. crying and pleading for her to let me stay in there although i hadn't been able to form a singular word properly. she'd give in and sit with me outside the bathtub with her steamy romance novels in hand, looking up between paragraphs at the smile on my face as i splashed around with an assortment of rubber ducks.
as i grew older, my mom would let me swim at the end of the dock with her by my side, my tiny torso just above the rippling water. i'd dunk myself into the water, watching the minnows nibble at my tiny feet through the lenses of my goggles. giggling as i stuck my head back up, facing my mom with sparks in my eyes, "it tickles, mommy!"
by the time i was in middle school, i had unfortunately developed anxiety. i'd skip school because i grew so physically sick, staying in bed all day, crying uncontrollably. my mom had to stop by the school on those days on her way home from work, giving me a saddened look as she handed me the papers. i'd do them in a blur, my eyes swollen and stinging from my tears.
on one of those days, i had to take a shower, my hair was a greasy knotted mess. my mom helped me detangle it, being gentle as she worked her way to the top of my head. i hesitated before stripping off my three day old clothes, not daring to look at my bare reflection.
i slid into the lukewarm water, standing there for a minute. i felt all the stress being rinsed from my body. i lowered myself to the shower floor and sat there until the water ran cold. i began showering every day, before and after school. the way it felt against my skin made me feel comforted within seconds.
years later, i still use that coping mechanism. i began to learn to control my anxiety, thanks to matt. matt and i got close near the end of junior year, we sat next to each other in math class; always helping each other.
this one specific day, i had been cat called by a group of boys and was absolutely terrified that it was going to happen again. i began overthinking: "are my jeans too tight? can you see my bra through my shirt? am i wearing too much makeup?"
the algebraic equations being written on the board quickly became irrelevant, my breathing was picking up and my throat was closing. matt noticed the increase in my breathing pattern, quickly turning to me as he saw the tears brimming in my eyes. he quickly grabbed ahold of my hand and began rubbing soothing circles along the back of my hand. i squeezed his hand out of fear, shaking slightly.
he leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear, "i'm right here with you, copy my breathing." i turned to look at him, unsure of what was going on. "trust me," he mouthed, looking at my tear filled eyes. i nodded beginning to copy his breathing as we both faced the teacher as if we were paying attention.
i almost had my breathing under control, when the teacher told us to work with our partners, the class broke out into a jumble of murmurs almost instantly. matt slid his water bottle to me, "drink some, please." i grabbed bottle and began taking sips, matt watched carefully as i began to relax. "t-thank you," i stuttered, still shaking as i let go of his hand.
"yeah, of course," he said, examining my bouncing leg, "come here." matt opened his arms to me, ushering me into them, i hesitated before wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my head on his shoulder. matt drew comforting shapes on my back as i breathed in his scent of vanilla, silently thanking him over and over.
after that moment, we became closer. he let me come over and spend the night with him and his brothers, just sitting around talking. we were just friends though, we'd share strictly platonic touches aside from the times we both started leaning in and someone waltzed in or one of us chickened out.
before homecoming of senior year, he'd finally ask me to be his girlfriend. making those touches romantic and closing the distance between our lips. we practically clung to each other, refusing to leave the other behind.
i had the lot that i had spent all my childhood in under my name now, my mom too focused on work to come up here anymore. i didn't have to share the trailer with my mom anymore, not being banished to the small pull out couch when we did.
i didn't like being up there alone, hearing the loud pitter patter of the rain against the metal roof gave me a sense of unease, only having my pillow to latch onto. i decided to bring the triplets out here, and they loved it.
they loved when i took them driving along the winding curves of the roads and to little shops. matt stealing chris' usual spot in the front seat to be close to me, which chris surprisingly allowed with zero hesitation.
every morning i'd wake matt up to go swimming with me while the lake was calm and nobody was disrupting the fish swimming below. he always agreed, throwing on our swimsuits while trying not to wake up nic and chris, it was our thing.
as soon as we crept out of the trailer, i took a moment to admire the sunrise and breathe in the fresh, dewy air that was destined to be filled with smoke by sunset from the campfires around the park. matt snuck his hand into mine and walked me down the dock, he always let me dip in first to see how cold it is from the night before. it was always relatively cold, it cooled down a lot at night after high temperatures and the blistering sun. despite the temperature, he always got used to it if it meant spending time with me.
we drifted to the drop off, avoiding the sharp shells that inhabited the lake years prior, the water slowly swallowing our bodies. i stopped as soon as it reached my belly button and dove down, savoring the feeling. i came up for air and turned to matt, looking at him with a big smile as the water rippled at his presence around his waist like a hula hoop. "come on, dunk in!" i said, laughing as i shook my shoulders in the water.
matt rolled his eyes before taking a deep breath and falling onto his back and gliding over to me. i smiled as i admired how silky his hair looked under the water. he came up and shook his hair like a dog on me, "matt!" i giggled. he stopped his movements and pressed a kiss to my sunkissed nose.
i turned to look at the horizon and let out a sigh, "i love this, i love the water." matt began chuckling at his own thought, "well, i am about 60% water." i gave him a weird look and laughed, "yeah, i guess i love you too, dingus," i said, sarcastically rolling my eyes.
i took another moment to watch the seagulls diving into the water to bring food back to their families when i felt a familiar feeling at my feet. i looked down to see the minnows nibbling at my feet and shins, making my giggle with a huge smile on my face.
i felt matt's eyes drilling into me, i looked over at him to see he had the dopiest grin on him face. "what's your major malfunction?" i laughed, drifting towards him. he grabbed at the waistline of my bikini, pulling me closer.
"i think i'm more mesmerized by you than you are by the water."
TAGLIST : @dwntwn-strnlo @crvptidsmain @stvrni0lo @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @ssturniolo @iha8you @lollibumblebee
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lovestay-channie · 4 months
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Start of Something New- Jeongin Imagine
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Pairing: non!idol yang jeongin x fem!reader
Genre: stangers to lovers, fluffy
Synopsis: yang jeongin has had a rough year. could things turn out to be different for 2024 at a karaoke club?
Word Count: 1.6k
Warning: alcohol consumption
A/N: happy new years everyone!! let's be happy and healthy in the new year! (also not proof read or edited bc i'm lazy tonight lol)
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“Aaaand that was Bang Chan with Die For You by The Weekend!” 
It’s New Year's Eve in Seoul. The evening sky was lit by the bright lights of the skyscrapers. The roads are filled with people: friends who are bar hopping, couples finding a sweet spot to share an intimate moment with one another, families eating together, and the hustle and bustle of the busy city. Jeongin was with his friends Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin. They decided to end the year at a Karaoke Club. 
“Nice job Bang!” Hyunjin says, patting his friend on the back. They were sitting at the bar watching Chan sing his heart out on stage. 
“Ahh it was nothing,” Chan brushes off Hyunjin before taking a swig of his lukewarm beer. “I need a new drink. Anyone want anything?” 
Seungmin leans back from his stool, “I’ll take another shot of Tequila, please.” 
Chan nods at his friend's requests and asks the bartender for another round of shots. 
“You’ve barely touched your beer, Jeongin,” Hyunjin says, lifting the can to feel how full it is. 
Jeongin shrugs and takes a sip, “I don’t want to get wasted tonight.” 
It had been a difficult year for Jeongin. He didn’t want to drown his sorrows into alcohol like he did for most of this year. College at JYPU was becoming more difficult as he was getting into harder classes, his girlfriend of a year and a half cheated on him, and he couldn’t keep a job to save his life. Truth be told, 2023 was not his year. 
“Come on Innie,” Seungmin says, handing the youngest a shot. “Screw 2023!” 
Jeongin scoffs at his friend and accepts the shot he was given. He welcomed the burning sensation going down his throat. “Who’s going to sing next?”
“I don’t think I could read the screen properly,” Hyunjin laughs. 
“I’m not about to embarrass myself out there. I have a reputation I need to hold up for law school,” Seungmin says, fiddling with his drink. 
“We come to a Karaoke bar, and you aren’t going to sing?” Jeongin questions. 
“Exactly!” Seungmin turns around. “We come here to watch drunk people attempt at even holding the microphone.” 
Next thing they know, the strobe lights were flashing around them, signaling the announcer was about to speak. “Aaaaall right, everyone. It’s time for Popcorn Tiiiimee!!!”
The four boys looked at one another. Popcorn Time was just as scary as popcorn reading in school! A person at random will be chosen to sing, and they don’t really have a chance to turn it down. The only good side to Popcorn Time is getting a free drink for being brave enough to sing with a stranger. 
“Let’s get the spotlights going!”
Two spotlights turn on; one pink, one blue. They start going around the audience, fishing to see who they will pick. Next thing they know, the blue spotlight landed on none other than Yang Jeongin. He sighs defeated. Thankfully, he is a music major, so he has something underneath his belt. Chan squealed in his ear as Hyunjin pushed him to go up to the stage. “Come on over young man!”
Jeongin looks at the crowd as the pink spotlight is still going around finding someone. As soon as he reaches the stage, the pink light stops on a girl sitting with her friends. They all freakout as the girl is also pushed to go up to the stage. 
The two strangers are now standing side by side, microphones placed in front of them. “And what are your guys’ names?” 
“Hi. I am Yang Jeongin, 22, student at JYUP.”
“Hello, I’m Y/l Y/n, 21, also a student at JYUP.”
The crowd cheers for the brave souls who are about to sing a song with one another. “And what do you guys want to sing?” 
The two meet each other's eyes for the first time, both unsure of what to sing. She shrugs her shoulders and leans out a hand for Jeongin to pick. “Uh, do you know the movie Tangled?” he asks. Y/n nods her head, eyes shine at the mention of the movie. “I See the Light?” 
The crowd “Awwws” at the song suggestion. “Quite a romantic song for two people who have just met. Let’s do it!” Just as the announcer starts to leave, he says one more thing for just the two of you to hear, “Someday you will thank me for this… or not.” 
He exits the stage, leaving Jeongin and Y/N together. The crowd goes quiet, knowing it’s a softer song for a club. The screen turns on with the song title on display. Jeongin just realized that there were hundreds of people here and he was about to sing in front of them. His hands started to feel a little clammy. He didn’t even realize that song had started until Y/n started to sing. 
All those days watching from the windows
All those years outside looking in
His head snaps in her direction. What looks to be this shy girl had a beautiful voice beneath her. His breath was taken away. He hadn’t heard anything so beautiful before. 
All that time never even knowing
Just how blind I've been
Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight
Now I'm here, suddenly I see
She turns her head towards Jeongin, who hasn’t stopped looking at her while she was singing. 
Standing here, it's all so clear
I'm where I'm meant to be
She was serenading him as if she was putting him in a trance. 
And at last I see the light
And it's like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light
And it's like the sky is new
Jeongin snapped out of the trance he was in, breaking eye contact with Y/n, realizing that his part is coming up. He grabbed the microphone so he could hold it in his hand instead of his being on the stand. 
And it's warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once everything looks different
Now that I see you
The crowd applauded and cheered for Y/n’s verse. It made Jeongin’s ears ring a little bit. Thankfully, there is a minor music break between their verses. He scanned the crowd to find his friends. He could see the bright, blonde haired Hyunjin who was standing up. He gave Jeongin a thumbs up, encouraging him that he was going to do great.
All those days chasing down a daydream
All those years living in a blur
All that time, never truly seeing
Things the way they were
The verse he was singing was almost ironic. Truthfully, he didn’t have a good year. There were so many lows that it outweighed the highs. But he had his friends and family by his side the whole time. He was never alone. 
Now she's here, shining in the starlight
Now she's here, suddenly I know
Then there’s Y/n. A complete stranger who has one of the most beautiful voices he had ever heard singing with him. He glanced at her, and she was already looking at him. Maybe the end of the year could turn the new year around.
If she's here, it's crystal clear
I'm where I'm meant to go
Y/n leans into her microphone to sing with Jeongin.
And at last I see the light
And it's like the fog has lifted
And at last I see the light
And it's like the sky is new
And it's warm and real and bright
And the world has somehow shifted
All at once, everything is different
Now that I see you
Jeongin takes a step towards Y/n, grabbing her hand before singing the next verse. 
Now that I see you
He gets lost in her star-lit eyes. His heart is beating a million miles a minute. The scariest thing he could have experienced ended up being the greatest thing he has ever done. What he doesn’t notice is the screaming, applause, and whistles cheering for the two on stage. They look towards the crowd, bowing, and exiting the stage hand in hand. 
Jeongin pulls Y/n into a more private area so he could talk to her better. “You were incredible!”
“Me?!” she exclaims. “Did you hear yourself out there?! You were amazing! Great song choice, by the way!”
Jeongin blushes, “Oh, thanks. It was the first duet that came to mind. Not really one for a club, but it seems like they liked it.”
“Yeah, I think they did..” 
A comfortable silence came between the two new acquaintances. Jeongin looks up to find a clock. 11:59PM. “It’s almost the New Year.”
Y/n turns to glance at the clock he is looking at, “Oh yeah, it is.” 
“Do you want to watch the fireworks with me?” he asks. 
Y/n looks back at the handsome boy. Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes crinkle from the smile forming on her face. “I would love to.”
They walk to the balcony, still hand in hand. The air was brisk and cold, but Jeongin’s heart was warm. The countdown to the New Year began, waiting for this year to end. 
“5!”
“Thanks for singing with me,” Jeongin says. 
“4!”
“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” Y/n teases. 
“3!” 
“Maybe, but I’m glad I got to sing with you.”
“2!”
“Me too.”
“1!”
“Happy New Year, Y/n,” Jeongin smiles.
“Happy New Year, Jeongin.” 
The start of the new year wasn’t so bad. Maybe 2024 can be the start of something new?
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thegeminisage · 3 months
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oh boy IT'S tng update time. last night* we watched "imaginary friend" and "i, borg."
*tonight. it's 1am. whatever. it's posting tomorrow when i'll be awake but busy. anyway im gonna have to start splitting these up so tumblr will stop FUCKING me re my character count
imaginary friend:
what i like about this episode and indeed tng as a whole is that the little girl was fucking adorable. tng fans, your show has at least one point of validity. whenever there was a child on tos i wanted to throw them out of the airlock because they acted possessed. all the children on tng inspire within me motherly concern.
HOWEVER. THERE SHOULD NOT BE. CHILDREN ON A STARSHIP.
we've gone over this at length. we don't need to do it again. i am sick to death of hearing myself talk about it. i want to stop. and yet. every. and i mean EVERY. SINGLE. PROBLEM. in this episode. happened because there were children on a starship.
problem #1: child is making up a fake imaginary friend instead of making real ones = it's because her dad hops from starship to starship
problem #2 her imaginary friend is real now and wants to drown her in the pool like in that one episode of s*pernatural = this is because an alien, from space, read her mind, which it could not have done if she wasn't in space on a starship
problem #3: the alien HATES the grownups and thinks they should die = because she is seeing the ship from a child's pov, because there are children on this starship
and on and on and on.
aside from this huge and ongoing point of contention it was solidly watchable. i liked the little girl. i like guinan. i like worf being a big old softie when he found them out of bounds. i like people not undermining deanna's counseling work. i liked the horrifically unsettling imaginary friend with laser eyes who definitely absolutely inspired 2.11 playthings.
can anyone tell me if the other star trek shows just let them have kids on the ships? ds9 i get because that's a space station but are there kids on the ship in enterprise? voyager? discovery? genuinely please write in i can't take living like this
i, borg:
ooooooh. ooh i am twirling my hair and kicking my feet and giggling about it. OHHH finally we get a good tng episode. and not just a good episode a GREAT episode. the liz community has forgiven tng. oh baby where do i even begin
okay, firstly, beverly. she so instantly sees someone injured and HAS to help, i mean HAS to, it's so good. it's very bonescore in a way that doesn't feel like they're trying to make her a cheap bones knockoff but rather a spiritual successor. he would have also helped his enemy rather than watching him die. hell, he DID do that and got quite literally mind-raped for his trouble, and he'd probably do it again. i was really really lukewarm on poor bev at first but she's come into her own so well and i'm proud of her
the borg himself - third of five, aw, just like seven of nine - but no, hugh - the name is dumb but whatever i'm glad he has one - was well-cast. it would have been easy to make him uncanny and an unpleasant presence onscreen (this was my biggest issue with data's daughter even though the ep DID make me cry, deeply sorry to data whomst i love the most). his "you will be assimilated resistance is futile" song and dance was actually really funny when played off of geordi's wry indifference. "ok, but before we get assimilated, can we please finish x test?" so true king
geordi's a natural choice to pair with this guy because when he's not being the creepiest person on earth to holodeck girls he's sociable, outgoing, and patient. PLUS he has experience befriending machines because of data. hugh actually reminded me of data in some ways because of his general lack of understanding re: humanity but - and this is critical to me - HE IS HUMAN
like, i feel like the episode didn't quite nail the point home hard enough possibly because they were afraid of the implications but the cold hard truth of the matter is that each and every person on the borg cube IS A PERSON. they have been assimilated, but we've twice now seen that it's possible to unassimilate them with only a few days of effort. picard (and guinan!) consider the entire collective their enemy but the collective is comprised of brainwashed prisoners. those fucked up little borg babies they found in the cube were assimilated as INFANTS - i assume they weren't born on the cube bc if the borg could reproduce on its own it wouldn't need to assimilate - but even if they were born on the cube, they had no choice but to be this. you know.
which is whyyyy it's so fucked picard was like yeah give hugh some digital poison let him carry it back to his cube and we'll kill them like ants <3 like, oh my god his lingering borg trauma or whatever. MWAH. when he told deanna he didn't wanna talk. when he and guinan had to trauma-bond while fencing. when he told geordi that he needed to unattach himself because it was nothing more than animal experimentation. STONE FUCKING COLD BY THE WAY. he is fighting in the war on animal experimentation on the side of animal experimentation. he was going to let his cre heal and feed that kid and then send him back laced with poison. diabolical <3
and, of course, when he didn't want to speak or associate that borg kid at all because that's who he used to be AND WHO HE STILL IS in some corner of his brain (!!!)
LIKE. WHEN HE WAS FINALLY CONVINCED TO INTERROGATE THIS KID. and IMMEDIATELY broke out the locutus voice. he still remembered all the protocol! the way of speaking! everything! i was so shocked and thrilled.
i love also how everyone who spoke to hugh came away extremely unsettled but also totally convinced of his humanity. even guinan, which was so fun, because she was even more anti-borg than picard at first and they were bonding over trauma and fantasy racism. that bit where hugh, who had only known about the concept of loneliness for like an hour, immediately pegged her as lonely after like three lines of dialogue. oh my GOD???
i was decently satisfied with the ending - obviously they couldn't send him back with poison nor could they protect him from the borg, but i wish they had informed him of the inevitable memory wipe before he made his choice. (a selfless choice! he loves geordi!!) still i think he mostly walked into it with eyes open. very sad but very proud of him.
my one tiny nitpick with this episode is that for all beverly's genuine and justified concern about hugh, i don't think theyre ever gonna address the fact that she shot and possibly killed some of the borg in the episode where picard got assimilated. i feel like after realizing they are all people, like hugh, she should also realize she's broken the hippocratic oath, and have a little crisis about it. i have no idea why we had the DOCTOR shooting and killing anybody but let alone if we aren't gonna get into that. i don't think anyone cares/cared except me though.
but tbh, for me this is one of the main draws of the borg. they're ALL brainwashed cyber-assassins and they're ALL prisoners and in theory ALL of them could be saved if only they would stop attacking first. sure, yeah, in fights you gotta do what you gotta do because your own life has gotta come first, but the unique scifi horror aspect of all of those guys being perfectly innocent people fucks and they should utilize it a little more!!!
NEXT TIME: "the next phase" and "the inner light."
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thegodthief · 1 year
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Dreamt that a "friend" had married into the Addams clan. In daylight, his new wife appeared repulsive to the point where it was difficult to look at her for more than a few seconds. In shadow, she was not preternaturally ugly, but people would still turn away because her visage made them uncomfortable. At night, she was preternaturally and hauntingly beautiful to the point of inciting fear.
As a result, no one could look at her for very long.
Except him.
He was absolutely infatuated with her. A tinker by trade, he was always fixing thing machine or that tool. He said he didn't see her face as a face, but as a collection of components. Individually, each component could be regarded in its own right and so he never really looked at her face as a whole.
He was always studying her face, not to find a way to "fix" her or to change her appearance so that other people could also look on her. He said that she was his muse, and that the when he felt stuck on a problem with no way to think things through, he knew he could always rest his gaze upon her and something about the part of her face that he was studying would allow his thoughts to come through the stagnancy.
She, in turn, loved him with a fierce and possessing love that sought to guide him to his perfect ideal of what he thought he wanted to be while also yielding his love back to himself so that he could become what he always has been but never realized it.
She loved him like an Addams.
So when he over-fixated on the tools in his workshop, she came in and rearranged everything while also decorating with her collection of living metal houseplants. He was loathe to move any of her decorations out of the way, not because they would try to slice his hand open for the iron in his blood, but because he knew that she placed them there for a reason and while he didn't understand it, he trusted her enough to leave them in place.
It would be a week before he realized that the new arrangement made the retrieval, use, and storage of his tools more efficient without unnecessary conflict over what was "best" according to him.
And so, he trusted her more, and loved her more, and slowly learned to look more into the horrors of her face, and never flinched his sight away.
And she adored him more, and doted on him more, and never changed anything about herself but instead remained fiercely Addams as she always had been before.
I was at one of his workshops, one day. He had taken a watch to an inner chamber that was guarded by a pair of roses with animate vines that kept reaching in my general direction when I wasn't looking. She came in and I stood to greet her while dropping my gaze.
"Oh, you monster, how you flatter me with your deference." She took my hands with hers. It felt like empty veins dragging across my skin. "Would you study me as well?"
"No, Ma'am. I will not presume to take what you have not given me. But I am glad to see you well."
She patted my hand with palm so dry, they scratched my skin with a hundred invisible cuts. "I would give you as I have given him; everything. All I ask is that you give me the same in return." She raised my hands and kissed off the irritation, healing the damage that had been done.
I resisted the charm in her voice and kept my gaze turned away. She held the back of one of my hands to her cheek. It felt like lukewarm jello. I did not look up to see why.
"He loves you in a way that does not devour him, that allows him to give you everything without unmaking himself. I cannot love like that."
"Is that why you will not look upon me?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I cannot bear to see my reflection and the depths to which I despise myself."
Her face was suddenly beside mine, but set back just enough that my peripheral vision could not capture her. I suddenly felt very feverish even as her skin soaked up all the heat in the room and emanated a terrible iciness instead.
"One day, monstrum, I would like to see you try."
She nuzzles the skin behind my ear and I am fixed in place by an arousal so intense I struggle to remain calm. She releases her grip around my waist that I was not aware of until it ceased, and moves silently behind me to exit the room.
As I stand in horrific desire, her husband returns from the inner chamber with the pocket watch in hand. My unblinking sight rises to study him as he comes forward studying the exposed workings. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep this a while, my friend. The inner workings are more decayed than I feared and some of the replacement parts will have to be created from scratch."
He finally looks up at me and I instinctively turn my eyes away from his face. But I know that I'm flushed with sweat even as I'm shivering. And I am afraid that he is going to ask me a question, any question, and that if I dare to attempt a civil answer, I will betray the uncivil nature that his wife has drawn into near-wakefulness.
"Oh, she was here, wasn't she. That you can stand in her presence is so intriguing. I know her effect on other people. She has the same effect on me too, you know, but I love her too much to let it do anything but make me love her more. The people in town say I'm charmed. It's worse than that. I'm in love. So much. And I don't want to be rescued. Not that you'd even make the attempt. But I want someone to know that I'm here by my own free will, and I married her by my own free will, and I have full knowledge of just what kind of an Addams she is, and I would not suffer her any other way."
I nod in mute admiration. He politely waits for me to recover the ability to speak.
"Well." I take another breath and swallow the emotions I don't want to acknowledge. "Well, I trust you to do right by it. And to let me know the cost of repair so that I can pay you in full for your work. And I know it will take as long as it takes, so please, do not rush on my account."
I finally find the ability to look at his face. He is a normal man, with a normal visage. I appreciate his eyes. I don't appreciate his chin. But I accept him for what he is in total, and with that, the charm of his wife on me is broken.
We shake hands and I turn to exit the room.
"Wait." I pause and look back, curious to his concern. "When she speaks of you, she calls you a monster. Monstrum. She uses the same word that the people in town use, but when she says it, it's with affection and care. Why? You look... well... normal to me. Do you have a bit of Addams in your bloodline?"
I turn away, not in fear, but in ignorant shame. "Not that I'm aware. She sees... things... that most people cannot... will not... see. I do not know if she sees what has been done to me, or if she sees what I have always been, but I'm not ready to see what she does."
I turn to face the exit in full. "If you'll excuse me, the dawn is approaching soon, and I do not want to disrespect her with my human failing if I encounter her after that. I should leave now."
And so I left the room and the dream.
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eldritch-elrics · 10 months
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control (2019) review
alright! i now have 45 hours in control and have beat the main game, both big dlc quests, and the vast majority of the other sidequests (except shüm fuck shüm). so let me share my updated thoughts!
short answer: it’s really good 👍
longer answer:
control is a weird one. while it is technically true that i've never played another game like it (i have never played a third person shooter before!), it also takes much of its inspiration from stories, art, tropes, and aesthetics with which i am extremely familiar. of course, that isn’t a bad thing in and of itself. but it did kind of add to my lukewarm feelings about it in the first couple hours. there is very little in control (at least in its beginning) that legitimately surprised me, which somewhat contrasts the ~deep, dark, mysterious, twists around every corner~ vibe it’s trying to cultivate. but i absolutely warmed up to it.
while i’m talking about the beginning and my hesitation surrounding this game, i should probably bring up my only major grievance with control: the way jesse is written. i’ve joked many times that cutting 80% of jesse’s inner monologue would make control a far better game. the thing about jesse is that she is very invested in her own role as Mysterious Protagonist With Dark Past. i cannot emphasize enough that the worst way to make a character feel Mysterious (in a non-comedic work, at least) is to have them think to themself about how mysterious they are and how they have to avoid telling people about their backstory and etc etc. the opening ten minutes of the game actively made me want to know less about jesse. i did not care about her backstory until maybe halfway through.
she also keeps a running internal commentary throughout the game that i think is written to make her feel “relatable” ( “ugh, i have to go do more tasks?” “i kind of hate that guy” sorta stuff) but instead feels tell-not-show-y as hell and also just plain obnoxious. writers have GOT to understand that in a visual medium, giving a character an inner monologue and/or running commentary is going to make them look like a dork. hades understands this. psychonauts understands this. hell, death note understands this best of all. i do not believe jesse is a dork. i think she’s supposed to be cool as hell. and she is! i just wish she were a little less Aggressively Normal. (though, to be completely fair, it is cool to have an AAA video game with a female protag who’s extremely normal.)
well, with that out of the way, let’s talk about some of the other stuff in this game.
on the topic of characters, i surprised myself with how much i liked a lot of the characters here. the animations are a little uncanny but the voice acting is just top-notch. honestly i cannot pick a favorite (human) character; they’re all really fun, and i came to really look forward to talking with them. (oh except trench. did not like watching his hotline things. he has the same problem as jesse: the narrative thinks he is too Cool.) i think emily pope, casper darling, and langston all really nail the “cool but also dorky” vibe in a way that jesse, alas, does not. speaking of dr. darling, i loved the decision to keep his involvement in the plot to the backstory, and have him only “speak” to jesse through prerecorded messages. (live-action messages too! how cool!) unraveling his entire deal was one of my favorite parts of the story.
goes without saying that ahti, the quirky janitor, is GREAT. what an excellent character. “finnish tango” is my favorite section of the main plot (along with ashtray maze directly after it, of course).
well, that is a perfect segue into talking about the main plot. i think it’s fine. idk. no strong feelings. the hiss are a fun antagonist. dylan’s interesting. there are some parts of the ending i don’t entirely understand but that’s all cool. yeah idk! i can’t say i was really playing the game to see what happened next in the main storyline. but i also don’t really have any complaints about it, other than wondering if i would have been more invested if jesse’s backstory had revealed itself more quietly & naturally.
meanwhile, the way control uses environmental storytelling is top fucking notch. oh my god. i LOVED collecting documents. hooooooly shit guys this is such a good game if you want hundreds of irrelevant documents. there is lore about EVERYTHING. some of it is important to the main story. the vast majority is not. you gotta sift through it and piece stuff together. there’s a lot of stuff that’s just there to make the world a little richer. and the overwhelming bureaucracy of the bureau really makes me believe that they would have vast amounts of documents describing all of it.
in general, the stuff about the FBC and the oldest house is where the story really shines. it’s equal parts fucked up government agency & group of people who is actually doing important work. (well, maybe with an emphasis on the former. though i kind of wish there was more direct political commentary in the game...) i loved the unethical science, and all the disagreements about scientific method (hi underhill), and just the vast amount of history everywhere.
it helps that the number one appeal of control is its environments. obviously the game is gorgeous. i love its sinister brutalism, its use of color and light, the surrealist parts, just everything. it’s one of those games that well-balances realism with having a striking artstyle. but, of course, one of the biggest delights in control is how tactile the environment is as well. the part where i started liking the game was when i got the launch ability and could interact with just about anything. and then i started REALLY liking the game when i got to the maintenance sector and saw just how serious the worldbuilding was. not only are practical concerns like “how does the FBC process energy” taken into account, those questions also form the basis for hugely complex rooms with an insane attention to detail. goddamn.
ok well with the launch ability i suppose i should talk about the gameplay too. it’s very fun! since i was playing on controller, i wasn’t a massive fan of the shooter parts, but as soon as i got an ability that locked onto targets it was like yes. this will be my primary weapon for the rest of the game. and it was. (also the gun pierce. i love you pierce.) the movement is also great. and the other abilities. seize! is really fun! and it is so awesome to fight in environments where you have to take the environment into account even more than usual, since you’re launching stuff all over the place!
(edit: i have just now remembered one more thing i really didn’t like about the game: the obnoxious quest ui that just stays on the screen! i am a seasoned player of video games; i can tell what i need to do next without having a big message on screen at all times. and if i can’t, that’s what the missions menu in the pause screen is for! i turned off that ui very early on and completely forgot about it.)
i think the sign of a great game to me is one that makes you want to do the sidequests. boy i wanted to do the sidequests. i wanted to discover shit! i wanted to do all the fetchquests! i didn’t care at all about the rewards! the whole mold thing was an especially fun & challenging part, and i really liked confronting silly altered items. it’s also an interesting choice to lock many of the major boss fights behind sidequests. i won’t say much about it for spoiler reasons, but hands down my favorite character in the ENTIRE game is former. i love former with my whole heart. oh my god. best beastie in the world. (or, uh, not in the world. idk.)
one thing i will say about the gameplay, though, is that inventory management was a bit tedious. i could not get rid of mods fast enough (and i got so much money from that LOL) and there were so many of them that getting one didn’t feel particularly special. though yes, i did try to pick up every collectible and chest i saw.
finally, about the dlc!
investigations sector felt a little bit like a hamfisted crossover, but other than the alan wake stuff i was pretty into the execution. i really, really enjoyed the stealth sections, and just the general horror throughout.
the foundation is EXCELLENT. i liked the story of the foundation far more than the story of the main game. aesthetically sublime. great lore/backstory that keeps you intrigued but never gives too much away. FORMER IS THERE. contains “found footage,” one of the best short sidequests. there is a secret astral bathroom. it’s great.
overall, control is pretty good. as a story about a fucked up house it very much fits into my realm of interests, and i generally think it’s fun, interesting, and well-polished. i don’t play many AAA games, but wow, you can absolutely see how the big budget helped this one. would recommend.
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Are you confident Bughead will be endgame on this show? That’s literally the last strand I’ve been holding onto, but the thread is weakening. I really can’t believe that they would take this ship, their absolute most popular and loved one, and just end it like this forever. I am so angry with the writing!!
Hey there, anon! It is unbelievable, isn’t it?
What a tricky question you ask! confidence + prediction + the Riverdale writers ... As Jughead would say: yikes!
The thing with these writers is that they use a lot of words without knowing their meaning. “Endgame” is one of them. “New” is another. “Exciting”. “Darkness”™. “Adult stories”. “The message”…
Dangling the bughead “endgame” carrot at the end of one or two seasons of no bughead or -worse- of b*rchie and j*bitha f.e. is not an endgame. The general definition of endgame -outside of chess- is: the last stage of a process. If the process (i.e. the season’s content) isn’t about bughead, then bughead coming together at the very end is not an endgame, it's a peripeteia i.e. a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances.
In shipping, endgame is a couple that will inevitably end together (for ever and ever and ever). In order for something to be inevitable, you have to create that sentiment, you have to build the couple up.
There’s an article about the misappropriation of the word “endagame” that I find particularly funny, as it starts by mentioning Riverdale!
Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say that, yes, I do believe that the show will end with bughead and varchie as their main canon couples. It’s just that, like you, I’m so very tired with these story lines. There is satisfaction to be had at the notion of endgame but a seasonful of investigative bughead would be infinitely preferable. For me (and I can only speak of myself) the journey is more important than the destination -even if for the simple reason that -in TV show time- it lasts longer!
Why do I think bughead is still … that word? Everything’s under the cut, so as not to clutter your dash!
1. A lot of people have been theorising that what happened in 5x18 was not the original plot. I agree.
Let’s start with 5x18 varchie.
Their break up came completely out of left field. Its unexpectedness is reminiscent of 4x17. I make fun of how s5 is a reboot of s1+s2’s leftover ideas, so another copy-paste shouldn’t feel out of place, and yet … really? Another repetition? To what end? If the season’s goal was not varchie, b*rchie was already there waiting at the beginning of the time jump! Why abandon that plot? In terms of romantic varchie time, that was extremely limited, since after their kiss in 5x7, Veronica’s divorce kept them apart until 5x17 … Why have Archie being extremely jealous of Chad, Veronica getting involved in all of Archie’s schemes (firefighters, bulldogs), Archie getting involved in Ronnie’s (rescuing daddykins) or Veronica telling her father she chooses Archie over him in 5x17? Also, for those who remember, there was this by the-writer-who-shall-not-be-named.
The reason of the break up is as ludicrous as Veronica moving into Archie’s childhood bedroom (with its effing slanted roof!) on the premise that long term the Andrews’ residence has more room! (By the way, I don’t know what surprised me more: that Veronica thought that Archie and uncle Frank would know who Ina Garten is or that Jughead didn’t.) Why is Veronica astounded by Archie’s involvement in the same activities he has been involved in all through the season?! For f***’s sake, she’s the one that gifted him the fire truck!
Ok. Now let’s give 5x18 j*bitha a try.
For me, 5x18 could either have gone bugheadwards or j*bithawards. J*bitha had some heartfelt talks, a hand touch, a hallucination and a kiss. Bughead had one unfinished heartfelt talk (the only one in the whole season for Betty), two shoulder touches, two hallucinations and Jughead attempting to reconnect with Betty (without specifying what his intent was, it's true).
While I do think that j*bitha is a ship that has been adequately teased, the way they were explored in 5x18 was … not underwhelming exactly (after all, they’re not my ship, so I didn’t have any expectations about them) but … maybe lukewarm is the word? They had but minimal dialogue, only enough to establish that Tabitha’s parents were in town. Then a song where Tabitha initially rejects Jughead, although she had been supportive before. Then another song, where the lyrics were heavily altered and didn’t make much sense anyway (we hadn’t been properly introduced to the Tates) but where the original lyrics were very compatible with Bughead’s history and state of being as of 5x17. The kisses were ok, I have no problem with the actors’ chemistry. But -and this is strictly a personal opinion- Jughead’s flirting scenes (not the make-out ones, you perverts!) with Cora were better and so was the j*bitha kiss in 5x10. For the 5x18 j*bitha to flow, more dialogue and more flirting was necessary (always a persona opinion). So, no, I don’t think j*bitha were supposed to sing what they sang in 5x18.
Production for s5 wrapped up one week after the official announcement of the 5 special episodes for Riverdale and The Flash: “we expect it will take us until Fall 2022 to get back to a regular schedule” was the official quote. Re-organising the cw’s overall schedule didn’t happen overnight. Yes, more likely than not, the writers knew about the specifics of s6a before shooting 5x18-5x19 and had time to re-write them.
2. The couples spoilers for s6 do not make sense plot-wise.
If the end-goal for 5x19-6x1 had been b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie all along, these were pairs already happening (except from v*ggie) at the beginning of the time-jump. As for v*ggie, last time we saw them, Veronica pulled a face when she heard that he had had (still has?) an affair with Hermosa. And what about Nana Rose?! (ok, that was a joke! ... or was it? 👀)
The majority of both the fans and the general audience are bugvarchie shippers. Teasing b*rchie and j*bitha as a means of maintaining the viewers’ interest in a will they/won’t they way, only works if the audience finally gets what they want. In this season. Not the next one! There is so much trolling one can take after all. In the space of 1.5 year (4x17-5x19) b*rchie will have been teased ... THREE times (and still lacking build-up)!
I cannot myself see b*rchie, j*bitha and v*ggie as endgame couples. For the audience to invest in them after 4 years of bugvarchie, the writers have to a) give j*bitha an absolutely incredible development that will surpass bughead and the cinematography to go with it (good luck with that) and b) undo Archie’s character (highly unlikely) and/or give Betty a lobotomy (at which point a lot of people will quit en masse, because Archie as The One All The Girls Want just doesn't resonate with the majority).
I have no idea if s6a is an AU or not. But if it’s not, no one will be left to watch 6b.
Can I guarantee a bughead endgame? Of course not. I have no idea how the minds of the Riverdale writers work. But I do think that Jughead and Betty getting back together is more than wishful thinking.
Fervently shipping Jughead/Betty, Jughead/his book and Betty/therapy, sincerely yours, @raymondebidochonlifechoices
I hope you have fun with the Riverdale universe regardless, dear anon. Riverdale has given us one of the most beautiful getting-together stories in s1 and lots and lots of beautiful canon bughead afterwards. Here's to many more! Much love to you!
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BruiserMates
Word Count: 4,644 (it's a long one)
Warnings: Sexual Situations, banter, there's some fluff in there somewhere.
Summary: The British Bruiserweight is more grumpy than usual. But his friends and a co-worker think they just might know a way to fix it. (Also, I tried to make an attempt to keep true with accents for the first time. So I apologize if it's horrible!)
The lukewarm water rushed out of a shower head in the back of the arena. The water pressure in these showers were never that good, but it was early and Lauren had the whole locker room to herself. She had the curtain drawn for privacy, just in case anyone else arrived early. Mostly because she was in the men’s showers. And just as she was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she heard several voices from the locker room echo into the bathroom.
"You could've stopped to get breakfast first." A British accent rang out.
"They 'ad food at the hotel." The familiar accent of Pete filled the room.
"Not anything for a vegan. And ya know that." Another voice argued.
"I don't know every damn vegan place in tha country." Pete spat back.
"Uh guys, just so you know you're not alone in here." Lauren informed them.
"Who in the bloody hell is that?"
"Lauren. I'm a backstage interviewer here. I really needed a shower after my workout before I got ready to work and they were cleaning in the women's locker room when I got there. No one was in here so I ran in. I'll be quick." She explained.
"Pete?"
"Yeah, she works here." He vouched, recognizing her voice.
"Ah. Alright then love. As long as you work here. I'm Tyler by the way."
"Trent." The other voice rang out.
"You guys are here from NXT UK for the tag tournament, right?" Lauren asked.
"You got it love." Trent answered as he turned on a shower on the opposite side of where Lauren was. "And you don't 'av to rush. We don't mind if you don't."
"As long as you stay on that side of the curtain." Lauren responded in a joking but friendly way.
"Great." Pete murmured.
"What's wrong with you?" Trent asked him.
"He's still sore about his girlfriend messin' around on him." Tyler answered getting ready to get a shower himself.
"Tell my business to the whole locker room, why don't ya." Pete said annoyed.
"She's the only otha one in here. And she sees ya more than us. I'm sure she's noticed you're grumpy."
"No more than usual." Lauren said as she conditioned her hair.
"Aw piss off all of ya."
"See? He's always this pleasant."
"I thought you said you were gonna be quick." Pete pointed out.
"I was, until Trent was nice enough to tell me I didn't have to. So now I'm taking my time."
Pete let out an aggravated grunt. "I can't shower with 'er in here."
"Relax Pete, I'm almost done. What brings you guys in here so early anyway?"
"Time change. Kind of has us messed up. And Pete just doesn't sleep." Tyler replied. "What about you? And working out nonetheless. I’d think you’d moreso be off writing questions."
"How else am I supposed to fit myself into those tiny dresses they want me to wear?" Lauren partially joked, causing two of the englishmen to chuckle. "I have a few interviews I have to do for some social media shows before the actual show tonight. This was the only time I could fit in a work out. I was going to shower real quick then get to work, but the women’s bathroom was closed, so I that brought me here. I guess it’s just bad timing.”
"Ah, I wouldn't say that love." Trent said.
"Well maybe not on my part. Anybody could walk in here. So many people have probably had fantasies that start like this. But apparently, it’s bad timing for some of you.”
"Would any of those fantasies include any of us by any chance?" Trent asked in a joking tone.
“Trent, ya can’t just ask a woman ya just met something like that.” Tyler chastised.
“Why not? I’m just joking.”
"Hm, some just might." Lauren answered.
"For fucks sake…"
"Jesus Pete calm down, I'm done. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Lauren said as she turned off the water and wrapped her towel around herself.
"Yeah relax mate. We're just messin' around." Trent said to his friend.
"You need to get laid." Lauren stated.
"Excuse me?" Pete asked, sounding offended.
"We've been telling him that the last two weeks love." Tyler said to her.
She pulled open the curtain and stepped out of the shower stall. "Take it from someone who pushed away a lot of her friends by being a negative mope after going through a rough breakup. If she's gonna fuck around, then so can you. Try smiling, go get laid, and live. See ya later boys. I believe I'll be the one interviewing you later!" Lauren called out before walking away.
Lauren left them alone in the men's locker room and walked back to the women's which was thankfully now able to be occupied. She walked quicker than she planned seeing as how she couldn't get dressed there with the guys there. So she was running around in just a towel. No one had really showed up to get ready yet, but she still had to go over interview questions, get dressed, and was expected by the stylists soon. She was rummaging through her bag when there was a lock at the door. She dropped what was in her hands and curiously walked over to the door. Upon opening it she saw an annoyed Pete Dunne standing there. He was still in his trousers, nice button down shirt, and vest. His hair pulled back. Obviously he still hadn't gotten into the shower yet.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you? Miss me already?"
Pete held out a plastic bag with tiny bottles inside. "Ya left your crap in the shower."
"And you're such a gentleman you brought it back to me?" Lauren joked.
"I drew the short straw."
"You sure it doesn't have anything to do with what I said?" She asked as she took the plastic bag from him. “Because my fantasies about you usually start with me still dressed and you ripping my clothes off me, but if this is how it happens I’ll take it.”
“No, it’s because I was the only one who was still dre…wait, what?”
Lauren smiled "Thanks for bringing my stuff back Pete. I forgot it in all the conversation. And if you’re just here to drop it off, I really need to finish getting ready. I need to be in make-up soon. I’ll see you around later.”
She closed the door, leaving Pete standing there dumbfounded at the interaction he just had.
Lauren had gotten dressed and was sitting in the make-up chair. She had decided on a short black off the shoulder dress. Even though the shoulders were bare, the dress had long sleeves, making a bit more acceptable in the workplace. The strappy heels that she had on also made it a bit less casual. She already had her hair done. She chose to leave it down since it was only shoulder length, but add some waves to it. Pete had wandered over to the area as Lauren was laughing while the make-up artist applied the dusty pink lipstick. Lauren was deep in conversation with the artist. She got along with everyone. Well, mostly everyone. She was easy to talk to and calming, which was a plus with her job. The interviews always flowed nicely and never seemed forced. She never really had any real problems with anyone she worked with. Pete leaned against a wall off to the side watching her talk. He had his wrestling gear on now, and had his long hair dangling down over half of his face.
"Alright, all set. How's it look?" The make-up artist asked as she held up a mirror.
"It looks great! Thanks Rachel!"
"Awesome. If you need a touch up just let me know."
"I will. Thanks!"
Lauren checked in the mirror one last time, pursing her lips together, before jumping out of the make-up chair and leaving it for someone else. She walked away from the styling area and right passed where Pete was brooding.
"Lauren."
"Hey Pete." Lauren replied as she walked by.
"Hey, hold up."
"What's up?" She asked as she stopped and turned to him.
"You tell me." Pete stated.
"Is this about what I said earlier? I’m sorry for getting involved in your business. And I never would have said anything had we not already been in the middle of a conversation. But I’ve been there, and I didn’t want you to end up pushing your friends away with your bad attitude like I did.” She explained.
"Not that. After. At the locker room." Pete said in a much lower voice.
Lauren smiled and crossed her arms. "What is this? When is Pete Dunne so timid?"
Pete rolled his eyes. "F'get it."
"No I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." Lauren said reaching out to grab his arm. "I'll be good. What did you want?"
"You to stop being intimidating for a moment would be good."
"I've heard that once or twice before, but not from anyone like you."
"What you said earlier, did you mean it?" Pete asked changing the subject.
"That you need a good lay to forget about her? Absolutely. Your friends seemed to agree."
"No. That you've 'ad fantasies about me." He said as he took a step closer to her.
"Maybe a few times." She answered, surprising him by the serious tone in her voice. He stood there not quite sure how to follow up while Lauren opened the small bag she had with her and looked through it. "Listen, I really have to go and interview Daniel Bryan. But if you want to take my advice, I would love to be the girl that gets under you to get over her. Room 308 if you're interested."
She slipped her spare hotel key into his hand before turning around and continuing to walk down the hallway. Later on that night Pete sat in the back watching the show on a t.v. He was watching Lauren interview his two best friends while he spun the hotel key around in his fingers while being lost in thought. He pulled it together to go out and put on a good show, like he always did. All of his cockiness and aggression was on display. Lauren had been watching his match extra closely that night.
After the show Lauren was sitting alone in her hotel room. She hadn't made any plans for the night in case Pete decided to show up. After about an hour of waiting, she decided to change her clothes and get comfortable. She had the television on and was laying down in the bed, trying to relax, but she found herself not paying attention to it and trying to figure out what reasons Pete could have for not showing up. After driving herself crazy for some time, around 11:30 she realized she was being silly. His good friends whom he hadn't seen in months were in the country for a bit, so he was going to be spending time with them. Plus with all the joking around that she had done with him that day he probably didn't even think she was serious. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested and didn’t know how to tell her in a nice way. Lauren grabbed her phone and laid down on her bed to play some games until she got tired. Only a few minutes after she relaxed herself for the night, there was a knock at her door.
Lauren put her phone down and got out of bed. She walked over to the door curious of who could be there this time of night, especially without texting her first. She looked through the peephole and saw Pete standing on the other side. She quickly opened the door.
"You do realize I gave you a key so you wouldn't have to knock and wait in the hallway, right?"
"I didn't feel right usin' it." Pete told her.
Lauren opened the door wider and stepped aside inviting him in. He stood near her as she closed the door.
"I see you stayed dressed for me." Pete joked as he looked at her in her pink tank top and black yoga pants.
"I could say the same for you." Lauren retorted noticing Pete was in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"It's not m' job to look pretty." Pete stated.
"Good thing I'm off the clock then."
They hadn't really talked much before now, other than just a hello or exchanging pleasantries. Maybe being involved in the same conversation as a group of people. Mostly that was because Pete kept to himself or only really talked with the people he was close to, where as Lauren would talk with everyone and insert herself into others conversations. But Pete definitely took notice today that not many people were able to throw back at him the way that she did, and he liked it.
"So did you just come here to criticize my clothes or…" Lauren trailed off.
"Actually, I wanted to talk." He answered.
"Oh, uh okay."
Lauren definitely hadn't been expecting that. She lead him into the room a little bit more and she sat down on the edge of the bed. Pete took one of the seats that were in the room and placed it in front of her before sitting down as well.
"So?"
"I've been thinking about what ya said. And you're right. If she's gonna bang a bunch of guys and not care, then I should too. Well, ya know."
"So what's the hold up?" Lauren asked.
"I don't want pity sex with someone just because they feel sorry fa' me. Especially if it's someone I 'av to work with."
"I can understand that. I'm not really one for random hook ups either." Lauren agreed.
"But then why did you…"
"I like you Pete." Lauren told him.
"Why? I'm kind of a bastard." Pete asked confused.
Lauren laughed. "Yeah, most of the time. I've watched you. You're grumpy face and your angry promos. But I've also seen the way you joke around with your friends. I've seen how interact with kids. I know how much you care about animals. There's a sweet guy behind that whole bruiserweight thing."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Your best friends. Those goofballs wouldn't waste their time with a complete asshole." Lauren answered with a smile. She reached out and placed her hand over top of his. "I'll be honest. I've had the hots for you since you started coming around. And then when I actually learned things about you I had a crush on you. And seeing you laugh with your friends, I've wondered what it would have been like if we had that kind of relationship."
Pete couldn't help but flash a genuine smile that he usually kept hidden. "Why didn't ya eva say anything?"
"You had a girlfriend, remember?"
"Right. Right. Forgot about that."
"Well that was the plan." Lauren giggled.
"So girls really dig the whole aggressive arse thing huh?" Pete asked amused.
"Oh yeah. There's something wired wrong in our brains. And the accent doesn't hurt either.”
Pete leaned back slightly in his chair and chuckled.
"Did I just make Pete Dunne laugh?" Pete didn't even try to hide it this time after she pointed it out. "Up until now I think I've only made you scowl."
"Yeah yeah, just don't spread it around."
"Don't wanna ruin your unlovable reputation, huh?"
They both sat in awkward silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say next. Pete fidgeted in his chair slightly before standing up. Lauren promptly stood up along with him. He reached out and pulled her to him so her body was flushed with his, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. The act took her by surprise.
"Thanks." He said into her ear.
Lauren put her arms around her torso returning the hug. But her senses perked up. He was still holding her, his head down and his nose grazing her neck. The thought of his mouth that close to her, with his history of biting, sent an electric wave through her nerves. She tried to push those thoughts out of her head and hugged him tighter.
"Anytime Pete." She said lightly.
Pete broke the hug and stepped aside looking down at her smiling. She gave him a half hearted smile. She was glad that she was able to be there for him, and it seemed like there was a friendship forming between them. But she was a little disappointed that it wasn't going further. And embarrassed that she told him how she felt, and now she had to deal with him at work all the time with him knowing that. She didn't say anything as she followed him as he walked to the door.
"I'll see ya around, alright?" Pete said as he put his hand on the doorknob.
Lauren nodded with a smile. She closed the door behind him and leaned it against it sighing. She felt like an idiot. She was just hoping he wouldn't make a big deal about it at work. She began walking back to her bed. When she was a few steps away, she heard the door click. She turned around and saw the knob turning. It pushed open and Pete walked back inside.
"Hey. Everything okay?" She asked confused.
He slammed the door behind him and walked towards Lauren, throwing the room key onto the bed as he passed it. He made it to where she was and placed his bands on her hips and pushed her up against the wall crashing his lips down onto hers. Lauren put her hands up on his shoulders, bracing herself at his actions. He moved his hands from her hips up to her sides all while continuing kissing her neck. He traced along the top of her tank top before grabbing it with both hands and ripping it down the middle. Lauren gasped into his mouth. Pete didn't give her any time to adjust to what he was doing before his hands traveled back down her body and behind her thighs picking her up and pressing her against the wall. He tore his lips away from hers to slowly lick down her chest until stopping at her partially exposed breast. He lightly licked around her nipple a few times before taking it into his mouth. Lauren ran her fingers through Pete's hair, softly moaning. When he lightly bit down she moaned deeper and arched her back off of the wall. Pushing herself even further into him, she became even more aware that her legs were spread around him and she could feel herself getting wetter every time he nibbled.
Pete pulled her away from the wall and carried her over to the bed. Lauren laid on the bed looking up at him trying to catch her breath. He was looking down at her with his signature cocky smirk. He reached out and lightly grabbed the waistband of her pants before yanking them off and crawling on top of her. Pete nuzzled into her neck kiss and biting causing her to arch her hips up and feel the large bulge in his sweatpants. Lauren slid her hands under his shirt and scraped her fingers down his chest bringing a low growl from him.
"You are wearing entirely too many clothes." Lauren informed him.
Pete chuckled, but it wasn't the light hearted one from earlier, there was a deeper tone to it. There was something sexy in that chuckle. He leaned up onto his knees and peeled his shirt off.
Lauren took the moment to just look at him, kneeling in front of her with his hair hanging down partially in his face. Watching his eyes in the light. He could see her eyes glancing up and down his body.
"Is this what ya wanted?" He asked.
"Fuck yes." Lauren answered out loud, instead of in her head like she planned. "But this was supposed to be for you."
"Does it seem like I'm not enjoyin' it?"
"Well yeah, but what is it you want?" Lauren asked.
"Haven't been asked that in a long time. Honestly?" Lauren nodded. "I want someone to want to be with me. Not just use me ta get off and pass out. Someone who enjoys being with me. To feel loved."
Lauren leaned up so she was sitting up in bed facing him. "Really?"
"Yeah. Sounds stupid. I guess when ya with someone for so long those things kind of become lost."
"No Pete, they don't." Lauren said as she placed her hand on his face. "That's what happens when people stop caring."
The words hurt Pete, but deep down he knew she was right.
"Lay down." She told him.
"What?" He asked confused.
"Take your pants off and lay down. Let me take care of you." She said it in such a calming tone, you'd forget they were just dry humping each other.
He complied with what she asked. Lauren removed her underwear and straddled him. He rubbed his hands on her thighs She pulled off what was left of her shirt. Pete unknowingly bit his lower lip upon seeing her naked in front of him.
"Like what ya see?" She asked with a coy smirk
"Damn love."
"You sure you wanna do this?" She asked him.
"Love if you don't get on me right now I'm going to push you down and get back on top of you."
Lauren smiled and moved to slide herself down onto his dick. She gasped as she slid down. She could have guessed the size of it based on what he wore in the ring, but she didn't think it was as thick as it was. Pete hissed as she began riding him.
"Fuck babe. You're so tight." He commented.
"Yeah, it's been a while." She replied as she rolled her hips.
"You're so wet." He stated.
"I told you, I like you. Now are you gonna do commentary the whole time or just enjoy it?"
"Oh I'm enjoying it love." Pete said as his hands slid up her legs. He groaned as he saw her bouncing on him, her breasts bouncing along with her. He ran his hand along her body and brushed his finger onto her clit causing her to yelp. He liked the sound that she made and continued to rub along her clit as she rode him.
"Fuck Pete if you keep that up I'm not gonna last long." She warned him.
"You keep makin' those sounds I won't eithea."
Lauren pushed his hand out of the way and brought her upper body down so she could kiss him before moving to his neck. She began kissing and sucking on his neck like he had been doing to her earlier. Pete reached around with both hands to grab her ass. She was moving at a slow and steady pace, keeping with his grunts of pleasure. She would bite down on his neck every once in a while hoping to catch him off guard. He would squeeze his grip tighter pushing her at a different pace causing her to moan.
"Wait, Lauren stop." Pete said suddenly.
Lauren stopped and sat up. "What's wrong?"
"I wanna be on top." He told her.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Lauren wanted to stay on top and take care of him, but it's what he said he wanted to she switched positions with him. She had to admit having Pete in between her legs staring her down was something she had thought about several times. He began placing kisses down her collar bone as she ran her fingers through his hair again.
"Mmmm Pete, please." Lauren begged bringing a smile to his lips.
"Please what?" Pete asked as he ran his length along her entrance, teasing her.
"I know I'm being selfish at the moment but please, I need you." She moaned as she tried to push herself closer to him.
"Baby, I love hearing you beg." He said as he entered her starting slow at first.
"Pete, faster please."
Pete grunted before speeding up, loving the feeling of her needing him, He began to thrust harder as he sped up. Lauren wrapped his leg up around his waist to give him better access.
"Oh God Pete, I'm so close." Lauren said as she scratched her nails down his back.
"Let go for me love." He rasped into her ear.
Lauren grabbed onto Pete's face to pull him into a passionate kiss as she came. Pete finished shortly after her before collapsing next to her. Their session was relatively quick, but emotional and intense. They laid next to each other trying to catch their breath.
"Well, that was unexpected." Pete stated.
"Yeah, definitely didn't think that was gonna happen when I woke up this morning." Lauren agreed as she laid next to him.
"I'm sorry it wasn't really what ya wanted." Pete apologize.
"What do you mean?"
"Ya said you wanted aggressive, and ripping clothes off, and all that."
Lauren leaned up on her elbow and turned to face him. "That's one of the things I've thought about, but I really just wanted you Pete."
He responded by lightly placing his hand on her head and pulling it down to rest on his chest. Lauren laid there cuddling on Pete, which is something she never would have expected from him, and soon found herself falling asleep.
Around three in the morning Lauren jerked awake. She didn't mean to fall asleep. She didn't even realize she was that worn out. Or maybe just comfortable. The room was now all dark, Pete must have turned the lights out. She couldn't see anything but she felt over to the other side of the bed and it was empty. Of course it was. He came for what she said she'd give him and then left. He wasn't looking for anything beyond that. Lauren knew that when she offered him to come to her too, but she didn't think it would hurt that much when he was gone. She laid back down in her beg and pulled the covers up feeling pretty stupid. Just then she heard the toilet in her bathroom flush and the door open. Pete walked out of the bathroom and back over to the bed.
"Pete?" Lauren asked.
"Hm." He replied.
"I thought you left."
"Why tha hell would I do that?" He asked as he pulled up the covers and got back into bed next to her.
"You were gone. I thought you got what you wanted and left. Especially after I fell asleep on you."
"I believe you're tha one that wanted this love." He reminded her. "You’re the one that offered."
"Well, yeah…"
Pete wrapped his arm around her waist and held her hand, lacing his fingers in with hers. He nuzzled his nose into the back of her neck.
"I'm pretty glad you did though." He admitted. This was the most love he had felt in a long time. He really felt like the person he was with wanted him, needed him. That she was focused on him, and it made him want to be focused on her. He felt an actual connection, which is something that he had been missing.
"I'm not goin anywhere for awhile love." He said as he squeezed her into hug, pulling her body to his. "I loved those sounds I heard earlier. They drove me crazy. I look forward ta havin' ya make more."
Lauren giggled as Pete kissed the back of her neck. Neither knew what the future would hold, but right now they were both enjoying the moment.
88 notes · View notes
taizi · 3 years
Text
the ship sways but the heart is steady
chapter one: the ship sways
the untamed pairing: jiang cheng & wei ying, lan zhan/wei ying word count: 2549 summary: Wei Ying’s friends are at rock-bottom, and Wei Ying puts his life on hold to help them put theirs back together. To absolutely no one’s surprise except Wei Ying’s, his family goes with him. read on ao3
x
During family dinner, Wei Ying’s phone rings, cutting mother off mid-sentence.
Jiang Cheng cringes inwardly and his brother’s face goes two shades paler. They have guests over, so mother doesn’t do more than glare hatefully in Wei Ying’s direction.
She won’t make a scene in front of Yanli’s husband, or even Wei Ying’s fiancé—Jin Zixuan is everything Yu Ziyuan wants in a match for her daughter, and Lan Zhan’s family is one of the richest on the East Coast.
Lan Zhan is also willing to give as good as he gets. His eyes are already narrowing in mother’s direction, the tentative ceasefire of family dinner wobbling precariously beneath their feet as he perceives the great and unforgivable offense of insult to Wei Ying. A-Li resolutely tries to pick the conversation back up from where it lulled, with all the steely resolve of someone throwing herself into the path of a rampaging bull. Jin Zixuan has graduated from grimacing into his wineglass to gazing hopefully at the clock every three minutes.
Always willing to fall on the grenade, Wei Ying ducks his head meekly.
“Sorry, I thought I silenced it,” he says, the shape of a laugh in his voice even if he can’t manage to drag it all the way out. He’s rummaging his cellphone out of his pocket, presumably to turn it off as a gesture of good faith. “I’ll just…”
But his eyes catch on the screen, and something happens to his expression that Jiang Cheng has never seen before.
Wei Ying stands up, so abruptly his chair sails back with an awful screech, and excuses himself. Lan Zhan follows him out of the dining room without a single word or a backwards glance. That’s all it takes for mother to pick up a scathing tirade against Jiang Cheng’s good-for-nothing, ungrateful, waste-of-space brother.
He joins Jin Zixuan in watching the clock. Worry swims in the back of his mind like a school of startled fish.
#
Wei Ying’s apartment is really actually Lan Zhan’s apartment, but the two of them have been inseparable since they were fourteen, and it naturally followed that where one of them would live, so would the other. The place is ridiculous, modern and minimalist, and it would look like something out of a magazine if not for Wei Ying’s inevitable clutter. But even the stacks of books and magazines, and haphazard easels, and little jars of paints and loose brushes everywhere manage to make the place seem charming and lived-in instead of the horrible disaster tornado it rightly should be.
Jiang Cheng asked him once what the monthly rent was but Wei Ying looked so haunted by the question that Jiang Cheng decided he didn’t actually want to know.
They’re all crammed into the conversation pit, recovering from family dinner in the usual fashion. Jin Zixuan is much more likable when his tie is loose and he’s nursing a lukewarm beer.
A-Li is clinging to Jiang Cheng’s hand so hard he’s beginning to lose circulation but he’d sooner agree to amputate than he would shake her off.
“You’re on speaker, A-Qing,” Wei Ying says with mock-severity. “Keep it PG for the children in the room, please.”
“So Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan are there?” Wen Qing asks rhetorically.
Jin Zixuan sighs but doesn’t rise to it. Jiang Cheng snaps, “Listen, assholes,” partly out of half-hearted irritation, and partly to hear Wen Qing sigh the way she does when she doesn’t want to reward someone with a real laugh.
“Yanli and Lan Zhan are here, too,” Wei Ying says cheerfully. His tone doesn’t match how worried his eyes are. “This is a family-only meeting. So tell us what those texts were about.”
Jiang Cheng realizes right away why Wei Ying bailed on dinner.
There was an apartment fire. The Wens lost everything. Wen Ning is in the hospital with smoke inhalation and second-degree burns because he ran in to make sure their neighbors got out safely. All of their savings are wrapped up in putting Wen Qing through medical school. She’s adrift now in a way that Jiang Cheng has never been.
“There’s... we have an old house, somewhere out in the country. It was sold to my grandparents cheap, but they never got around to renovating it. It’s not even livable, just bare bones.”
A-Li starts crying the second Wen Qing does.
“It’s too much,” Wen Qing forces out. “I can’t do this on my own.”
Wei Ying, to his credit, actually does hesitate. A whole five seconds. And then he says, “I thought you were supposed to be my smart friend. Who said you were doing this on your own?”
He says it as easily as if it was an absolute given that he would turn his whole life around and upside down for her. All she had to do was call.
#
There is a minor disagreement between Jiang Cheng’s siblings.
“A-Li,” Wei Ying says, holding both of her hands in both of his own and looking deeply, imploringly, into her eyes. “You’re way too pregnant to fly.”
Her face crinkles alarmingly, eyes already red and puffy from recent tears. Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan and Lan Zhan tense in exactly the same way, at the same time.
“I won’t have you going all the way to California by yourself,” Yanli says in her most eldest-sibling tone of voice. “I won’t have it, A-Ying.”
“I am a grown-up,” Wei Ying points out gently, with all the wisdom of his twenty-four years. “I pay bills and have a job I hate and everything. And I won’t be by myself, I’ll have A-Qing and A-Ning.”
“And me, obviously,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. Wei Ying whips around to stare at him.
“Oh,” Yanli says, a blanket of relief rolling across her face. “Oh, of course.”
“You can’t,” Wei Ying hisses at him, looking more panicked now than he has all night. “Your mother—”
“Okay, first of all, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” Jiang Cheng bites back, prickly with worry for the Wens and worry for his idiot brother. “Secondly, you, going by yourself, is not an option. It’s off the table. It was never on the table. Stupid,” he adds, on principle.
Lan Zhan doesn’t contribute much to the conversation at this point but Jiang Cheng learned a long time ago that that doesn’t mean shit. Lan Zhan has more opinions than any three people combined, whether or not he chooses to voice them. There is no fucking way he doesn’t have thoughts about his fiance picking up and moving nearly three thousand miles away.
Maybe there’s some strange alternate timeline out there where he would be content to stay behind and let Wei Ying go off without him, but Jiang Cheng would bet his entire trust fund that that’s simply not happening here.
If ever there was a world where Wei Ying would be backed into a corner and forced to help the Wens alone, this world isn’t it.
#
There’s a minor disagreement between his siblings, and there’s a whole fucking nuclear fallout at home.
“I forbid it,” mother snaps. She’s livid, but she’s livid so much of the time that it started losing its edge a few years ago. “Absolutely not. I refuse to allow this family to lose face because you want to gallivant across the country for some charity case.”
Jiang Cheng sees it when Wei Ying’s posture changes. The dreamy raincloud gray of Wei Ying’s eyes hardens into heavy steel, and his spine stiffens, and his shoulders go back; the absolute opposite of his downcast self at dinner earlier. He’s willing to fight any impossible battle as long as it’s for someone else.
Jiang Cheng grew up looking up to him. He spent all of his formative years as Wei Ying’s little brother. That’s why he’s willing, too.
“The Wens aren’t a charity case,” he says. Not very loud, but he says it. It’s a lot more than he could have done when he was a kid.
“You don’t even know them! They’re just some random people on the Internet. They’re probably scamming you, and you’re both idiot enough to fall for it!”
That’s so untrue and unfair that Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to argue for a moment. They’ve never met the Wens in person, but Wei Ying has been friends with them since he was ten. They mail each other presents for Christmas and birthdays. Jiang Cheng distinctly remembers calling Wen Qing for help with biochem homework, multiple times. Wen Ning always Skyped with Yanli when he was stuck on a recipe, the two of them cooking together from three time zones apart. They’re all tangled up in each other’s lives, comfortably, irrevocably.
Of course we know them, Jiang Cheng thinks, bewildered.
Out loud, he says, “They’re not scamming us. And we already told them we’re coming.”
Mother screeches and storms around the house and throws things, but she hasn’t actually hit either of them since they grew taller than her. She hasn’t been a source of real fear since Jiang Cheng started looking down at her instead of looking up. It’s mostly just miserable to be around her now.
He remembers that fear, though. It sticks to his body like a half-healed scar. It reminds him to flinch.
#
It’s early enough in the morning that it might as well still be nighttime when Jiang Cheng and his suitcases finally show up at Wei Ying’s building. He leaves his luggage in the lobby under the watchful gaze of the concierge and takes the private elevator up, keying in the code to his brother’s apartment.
The doors roll open to the living room. Lan Zhan is holding a tiny animal carrier in his hands, gazing at Wei Ying in an extremely gross and smitten way while Wei Ying discusses the upcoming trip with their pets. Pidan and Bao are not being particularly attentive, snuffling at his chin and chewing on a piece of his hair respectively.
“Diedie has decided to be stubborn and not listen to good sense,” Wei Ying is telling the rabbits seriously, “so you’re coming with me and ruining your life instead of being safe and comfortable here at home.”
“Baba is being dramatic,” Lan Zhan informs them in turn. “And also foolish, if he doesn’t realize that our home is wherever he goes.”
“This is the weirdest domestic scene I’ve ever walked into,” Jiang Cheng says loudly, since apparently the telltale ding of the elevator wasn’t enough to announce his presence. He has to interrupt before they do something horrible, like make out in front of him. It’s a constant fucking risk with these two. “Are we leaving or what?”
So the rabbits go into their crate with a frankly absurd amount of fanfare and Jiang Cheng helps wrestle the luggage downstairs. By then, the shuttle that Lan Zhan ordered is waiting for them at the curb.
He knows it isn’t going to be a vacation. Wei Ying’s friends are at rock-bottom, and Wei Ying has essentially put his life on hold to help them put theirs back together. It’s going to be hard work. It’s probably going to be painful, and a little bit scary.
Jiang Cheng is only involved because he chose to be, but it never occurs to him to choose anything else.
If this is where his brother is going, it’s probably the right place to go. And if it’s not, if the whole thing turns out to be a horrible mistake and he regrets all of it, then at least he’ll be in good company.
#
Wen Ning is out of the hospital by the time their plane lands, and he’s waiting with Wen Qing at the airport. Wei Ying, who by all accounts should feel as foggy and queasy as Jiang Cheng definitely does, drops his bags and sprints across the terminal towards them.
Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan follow at a more reasonable human pace, possibly in part to give the friends a few moments together. The busy airport traffic moves around them like a river flowing around a rock.
Wen Ning is sobbing, almost a full head taller than Wei Ying but buried against him like the little brother he is. Wen Qing is leaning quietly against the two of them with her eyes closed, as if filling her reserves and shoring up her strength.  
She’s the type of person who would be able to cow his mother with a single glance, Jiang Cheng thinks admiringly, and more efficiently than Lan Zhan ever could. She must have a spine built out of steel to be able to stand there without crumbling under the weight of what she’s lost.
And Wei Ying stands there holding them up, tireless and steady. He’s talking too quietly for Jiang Cheng to hear, saying something that makes Wen Ning nod against his shoulder. He’ll hold them up until the ground falls out from under his feet if he has to. Thankfully it’s more like three minutes.
Introductions aren’t necessary. They all just trade exhausted looks and move as a cohesive unit towards the doors.
Wen Ning starts to help with the bags, bandaged hands and all. Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng both snap at him before he can so much as touch a suitcase, and then he just waffles in place anxiously, like he doesn’t know how to person if he isn’t actively being helpful.
“Hold the kids,” Wei Ying says in the spirit of compromise, taking the pet crate from Lan Zhan and holding it out to Wen Ning instead.
Somehow, they shuffle everything out of the airport and into a rental car. Lan Zhan’s phone starts to blow up as soon as he turns airplane mode off, so he turns airplane mode back on and returns the phone to his pocket.
“My uncle has checked the credit card statement,” Lan Zhan says calmly. “My brother is handling it.”
“Poor Lan Huan,” Wei Ying murmurs.
“We have to call A-Li,” Jiang Cheng remembers with a jolt. He digs his own phone out. “She wanted us to call as soon as we landed.”
Everyone clusters in close for the FaceTime call with Yanli, who is tearful and hormonal and indignant about being left behind. Jiang Cheng begs her not to get into a fight with their mother over this. Yanli raises her chin and says, “We’ll see.”
It’s a very long drive to the estate. Wei Ying’s head sinks against Lan Zhan’s shoulder in an inevitable, unstoppable act of gravity. He falls asleep within minutes.
“You have to help me thank him,” Wen Qing says quietly, tapping anxious fingers against the steering wheel. “Help me figure out how to thank him.”
Jiang Cheng snorts, not unkindly. “What makes you think I know how?”
An entire childhood spent raising each other, protecting each other, annoying the shit out of each other, and there are still some things Jiang Cheng has no idea how to say to his brother in a way that he’ll understand. Like I’m sorry, and thank you.
Lan Zhan turns his head to the side, so that his cheek is pillowed against Wei Ying’s hair. Outside, the sprawling California countryside sprints past the windows, wild and golden under a relentless summer sun.
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ga-yuu · 3 years
Text
~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 13~
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Warning! Sexual content below!
Chapter 12
*
*
*
---------Part 1---------
Kurama: “I must have been mistaken in thinking you were in any way interesting.”
(Even though he didn’t use Kotodama.)
(I can’t move.)
No matter how close I feel to him, I’m sure I’ll never get used to the intimidation that Kurama gives off.
I knew it in my bones.
Kurama: “Understanding is an emotion that does not contribute strength. Will you still be able to think like that when you’re overtaken?”
Yoshino: "Wait..."
He's still intimidating, but he also smells dangerous, like an aphrodisiac.
With his voice and his eyes dominating the air, Kurama casually exposes my breasts.
Kurama: "Are you scared now?"
Kurama sneers while watching me tear up in fear and shame.
Yoshino: "....not...scared...."
Kurama: "Really."
My voice was trembling, and I'm sure he can see through me.
As if to prove the point, the red of Kurama's eyes darkened like a beast's ready to catch its prey.
Yoshino: "Mmmm....ahhh....."
A moment later, his lips pressed against my bare breast.
He then pulls away, leaving behind a faint pain and an even sweeter aftertaste.
Yoshino: "Ahh...Haa..."
My eyes watered with shame as I let out a lustful moan.
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Kurama: "Reward and punishment are the same to you, isn't it?"
Yoshino: "....This is terrible."
I felt like crawled up the cliff to get as close to Kurama, but then he in turn pushed me back down.
Kurama: "Don't forget this humiliation. I've given you the freedom to speak your mind and listened to your wishes, but you aren’t allowed to enter my heart."
(Mm...)
I wriggled as he traced the skin where he had kissed me earlier.
I saw a red mark glowing right where he sucked and I bit my lips in embarrassment.
Kurama: "This face suits you much better."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1. Don't say any more....(+4/+4)
2. Don't do this to me again...
3. I'll shout next time...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoshino: "Don't say any more...."
Kurama: "It would be easier if you'd accept the facts, but if that happens, I won't be rewarding myself with this lovely face of you."
Finally, after stroking my hair, Kurama steps back.
Yoshino: "...! Wait!"
He walks out of my room, without looking back.
(What should I do now?)
................
Kurama: "Benkei, give that sake."
Benkei: "Huh? That makes it the third bottle."
Benkei, who was apparently cooking dinner, looked at Kurama with a scowl as he barged in.
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Benkei: "All sake that Sueharu bought for us is now in your stomach."
---------Part 2--------
Benkei: "All sake that Sueharu bought for us is now in your stomach."
Kurama: "I want more. Don't you have any spares? Hurry up. Also makes snacks for me."
Benkei: "Make your own snacks. I’m not your maid. Also, these are Yoshitsune-sama's midnight snacks. Don't steal from these."
Kurama: "Whatever belongs to Yoshitsune, belongs to me too."
Benkei: "Does that logic applies to every single thing? ....Fine, I'll take it with a grain of salt."
Even as he says this, Benkei big hands were moving quickly, sorting out Kurama's portion and also simultaneously making dinner at the same time.
Kurama leaned against the wall, looking sideways at him.
Benkei: ".......? Kurama, what happened?"
Kurama: "What do you mean 'what'? Don't ask vague questions?"
Benkei: "You're not acting like yourself. You look like you're on the edge. Hmmm....perhaps the negotiations with the silversmith didn't go well?"
Kurama: "No, that went well."
Benkei: "Really? That's good. ..................Is it about Yoshino?"
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Kurama: "Why does that woman's name keep coming up?"
Benkei: "As expected."
Kurama stares at Benkei, who was chopping the vegetables.
Kurama: "..................Now I get it."
Benkei: "Huh? What?"
Benkei, who was slicing the radishes into chunks, stopped and looked back at Kurama.
Kurama: "That woman is my-----"
Benkei: "......"
Kurama: "My natural enemy."
Benkei: "Are you seriously that clueless!?!?"
Benkei slammed the knife against the chopping board as if he has given up.
.......................
(It's been few days since that night and things have gotten kind of awkward with Kurama.)
While I was watching the small pond in the garden under the sunset...
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Yoshino: "Kurama no longer comes to my room or calls me...."
I was hurt and angry that day because I was humiliated.
(But it would be very uncomfortable for me to go to him myself.)
(But if I think calmly, I am a prisoner of the Rebels and it makes sense that I should be keeping my distance.)
(But.....)
Just when my thoughts were going in circles-----
Yoshino: "!!!"
Suddenly black thing comes down from the sky and lands right in front of me.
Kurama: "----Found you!"
----------Part 3--------
Kurama: "----Found you!"
Yoshino: "Kurama!? What's wrong?"
There is a smoldering impatience behind those always cold eyes.
I knew intuitively that something was wrong, and my heart beats fast.
(----What happened?)
Kurama: "Come with me."
Yoshino: "Huh?"
Kurama pulls my hand without giving me an answer and I fell into his chest.
Kurama: "I need you."
...................
(M-m-myyy....head....sp-spinning....!)
(I was also forced to carry my medicine box.)
Yoshino: "Umm...why are we in front of Heikichiro-san's house....?"
Kurama: "Go inside."
When he pushed me, I entered the small hut and-----
Yoshino: "....! Heikichiro-san!?"
Heikichiro: "Nnn....."
I ran up to the slender old man, who was slumped on the floor.
Yoshino: "Please stay strong! Can you hear me?"
Heikichiro: "It's you...."
(His pulse is there. He's a bit dazed, but still responding to my calls....)
Kurama: "When I visited, this man was already lying on the floor."
His expression remained almost unchanged, but an unseen frustration burned in Kurama's eyes.
Kurama: "----You're a pharmacist, right?"
Yoshino: "I-I am."
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Kurama: "This man has yet to complete my order. Make sure he lives long enough. If you can't make him, I'll put out the fire off your life."
(......! Under such heavy pressure I have to treat this man?)
The murderous glint in his eyes made me gulp.
(But then again...)
Yoshino: "....First of all, you have to know something."
I replied back, while I untied Heikichiro-san's obi.
Kurama: "What?"
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Yoshino: "I can't guarantee a person's life. But I promise I'll do my best. Also Kurama, please help me. Let's work on this together."
Kurama: ".....!"
(Ah......)
Suddenly the air around Kurama became lighter and the tension that had stung my skin was released.
Kurama: "Say what do you want me to do."
Yoshino: "Now, can you build a fire and make some lukewarm water? Also, can you find me a clean towel?
Kurama: "All right."
--------Part 4-------
Yoshino: "Can you find me a clean towel?
Kurama: "All right."
Immediately after nodding, Kurama takes the tub and heads out to the well.
Heikichiro: *Coughs*
Yoshino: “If you feel nauseous, don’t hold back, just throw up....”
I changed his posture and rubbed his back.
Yoshino: “I’ll make the hot water right away, and then we’ll examine your symptoms.”
As I took care of him, I checked for the numbness in his limbs, blurred vision and nausea.
Heikichiro-san’s consciousness slowly becomes clearer.
Yoshino: “Thank god! Looks like now you’re feeling better.”
Kurama: “Did you cure him?”
Kurama, who had finished helping and was watching the treatment intently beside me, leaned forward.
Yoshino: “What happened was that  Heikichiro-san’s pre-existing condition got worse due to overwork. It’s not that easy, we have to let him rest over a period of days for him to fully recover.”
Kurama: “.......What a fragile creature.”
Heikichiro: “Wait...you have...”
Heikichiro-san blinked few times and then stared at Kurama.
Heikichiro: “....you have wings....”
(Damn!! I was completely absorbed in treating the old man that I forgot Kurama didn’t hide his wings...)
Heikichiro: “Are you a demon? Are here to take my soul?”
Kurama: “Who wants a soul of a shriveled old man like you?”
Yoshino: “Kurama, No!”
I tried to stop him, while Kurama replied with an annoyed expression. But----
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Kurama(glares): “And how dare you overworked? Don’t you fragile creatures know your place?”
Kurama started scolding Heikichiro-san if he couldn’t contain his frustration.
Heikichiro: “I...got strangely overpowered when you said you were looking forward for my work.”
Kurama: “......?”
Heikichiro: “He comes by everyday to see the progress of my work and observe what I do.”
(That’s why  Heikichiro-san overworked!?)
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Heikichiro: “I am an eccentric craftsman. But the fact that you, in all your arrogance, are so eagerly awaiting my work...makes me irresistible happy. I was happy seeing his red eyes sparkling when he looked at my fingertips.”
(I think I understand what Heikichiro-san is trying to say.)
(Kurama’s words and attitude have nothing impure in them, and that’s why it strikes people’s hearts.)
(Even if you instinctively perceive them to be frightening.)
Heikichiro: “God or demon, it doesn’t matter. For me it’s all about the pride and joy of being a craftsman.”
Kurama: “...........Crazy old man.”
Kurama raises an eyebrows at Heikichiro-san, who breaks off into a few tired words.
Kurama: “If you die, I’ll kill you.”
--------Part 5--------
Kurama: “If you die, I’ll kill you.”
(Kurama...)
(I’ve never seen Kurama looks so confused before.)
Heikichiro: “Haha,,I can’t die that soon. I have to build up quickly. Also, Yoshino-san. Thank you for saving this old man’s life.”
Yoshino: “Thanks to Kurama for bringing me here.”
Kurama(clueless): “............”
Heikichiro-san and I smiled at each other, while Kurama looked at us with a complicated expression.
...............
(It’s already night.)
Kurama: “I think it’s easier to fly back home.”
Yoshino: “It’s not like I’m in a hurry. Also I feel fine walking. I also think it would be a problem if someone notice us.”
Kurama: “How annoying.”
(Maybe it’s Kurama’s way of conceding that he’s still walking.)
Yoshino: “I’m really glad that Heikichiro-san is okay. Thank you for bringing me here, Kurama.”
Kurama: “..........”
(What’s wrong?)
Yoshino: “Anyways, I’m also thinking of asking Yoshitsune-sama if I can continue to make house calls for Heikichiro-san. If he refuses, I’ll tell another pharmacist to check on his condition. So...”
Kurama: “----I see.”
Yoshino: “Is there anything else you want me to do?”
Kurama: “No, it’s enough. It’s just...the reason why that man fell, is still a mystery to me.”
Kurama who spit out the words quietly stares at me.
I gasped at the burning heat in his eyes.
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Kurama: “I don’t understand....humans at all.”
Yoshino: “What? But Kurama always visits him, right? You were worried about him and that’s the reason, why you brought me here, right?”
(Kurama placed more value on  Heikichiro-san’s life than the unfinshed product. That’s why he brought me here, right?)
Kurama: “I can’t understand warm feelings such as worrying. However, that man’s hand are the hands that create brilliance. It would be a shame to lose them......and today, your hands saved that man.”
Yoshino: “Eh?”
The line of sight that didn’t show contempt or ridicule shoots right through my heart.
Kurama: “Yoshino. I’m reassessing your value. Apparently, you have a strength that I don’t know about.”
(Ah....)
Kurama’s warm fingertips, touches my cheeks, and I slowly slide my face into his palm.
Kurama: “....I’m proud of you.”
Chapter 14
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javajunkieao3 · 3 years
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Never Have I Ever: Post-Series Fic
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Ben Gross prided himself on being smart.  And falling in love with Devi Vishwakumar?  Well, that was just about the dumbest thing he could do.
           But, it happened anyway.
           He didn’t exactly know when, but somewhere between first grade and watching her dance with that tool, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, she had gone from the person he always wanted to beat to someone he genuinely hoped would win.  Because she deserved that.  After everything she went through with her dad and then everything after, she deserved a win.
           But, did that win have to be him?
           “Of course, it’s him,” Ben said, voice colored with defeat and just a hint of indignation.  He still hated losing.  Even if he technically wasn’t in this game.  Aneesa was waiting for him over by the punch.  “It’s always been him.”  
           Beside him, Eleanor said, “What?  No, it hasn’t.  After you took her to Malibu, she wanted to choose you.”
           Ben listened incredulously as Eleanor explained how she and Fabiana had talked Devi out of choosing him.  It was fucked up, and he was going to tell her as much, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Devi, imagining how different things would have been. It would have been him with her, not that glorified meat puppet.
           “So, just for the record, it hasn’t always been him.”
           Eleanor walked off after dropping her figurative bomb and he stayed rooted in place, not knowing what to do or think next.  He wasn’t used to this level of indecisiveness and he probably would have just stayed there, staring at Devi dance with another guy, if Aneesa hadn’t come over, sliding her hand over his shoulder.
           “Hey, I thought you were meeting me over by the punch,” she said, glancing over at where he had just been staring.  “Oh wow, good for Devi.”
           Aneesa looked up at Ben, noting the tense set of his jaw.  “But…you don’t think that.”
           “What?” he said immediately, finally looking away from the slow train wreck happening across the dance floor.  “I don’t care about them.  I mean, he’s a tool who, based on what I’ve seen, can barely read above an eighth grade level.  But, I don’t care.”
           “Uh, yeah, you do.”
           “Aneesa-“
           “Ben, I saw the way you were looking at them. At her.”
           He went to argue, but then realized he had no defense.  Aneesa ducked her chin to her chest.
           “Okay.  So, I guess I’m going to go now.”  She turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back.  “Don’t mess this up for her?”
           He didn’t know what he hated more, the implication that he would mess things up or the fact that Aneesa was maybe a little right. The song ended and he watched Paxton and Devi kiss before Paxton dipped his mouth to her ear.  Devi nodded at whatever he said, and then Paxton walked away, not letting go of her hand until the distance made it necessary.  Devi’s grin widened and Ben hated Paxton even more.
           Devi stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, seeming blissfully content, and then she caught his gaze.  Ben noticed that her grin dimmed slightly and then she walked over, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.
           “Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she began.
           “No, actually, you don’t.”
           She widened her eyes slightly.  “Okay.  Then, what are you going to say?”
           I know you wanted to choose me.
           “I’m happy for you, Devi.”
           It wasn’t what she expected, and not what he wanted, so they both felt out of sorts.  But then her shoulders slackened, a genuine smile spreading on her face, and Ben knew he did the right thing.  Because she deserved the win.  Even if it wasn’t him.
           “Thanks, Ben.”
           Paxton came over with two glasses of punch and handed Devi one, his now free arm going around her waist.  He gave Ben a lukewarm hello which, given their history, wasn’t entirely unfounded.
           “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Devi said.
           “See you around, David.”
           Paxton looked at him strangely, but Devi only smiled wider.
-----
           There were only a few weeks left in the school year after the dance, and Ben did his best to keep his distance from Devi.  She hovered a bit after learning about his and Aneesa’s breakup, but then they all got busy with finals and then the schoolyear ended.  Ben was grateful for the time apart.  He didn’t know how long it took to fall out of love with someone, but he figured summer break’s three Devi-free-months should do the trick.
           That summer, he lined up a volunteer program to pad his college applications just like every other summer.  He was supposed to help out with pro bono work at his dad’s firm, but at the last minute his dad hired a law clerk instead so that he could bill out his time at a markup.  So, he was stuck with a retirement home.  Everyone volunteered at retirement homes, which meant it was the last thing Ben wanted to put on his resume.  But, there was nothing else left and it was better than nothing, so he grudgingly accepted a spot at one about fifteen minutes from his house and prepared himself for a summer of moth balls and stories about “the war”.
           Instead, he got Devi.
           “I thought you were working at your dad’s firm this summer,” Devi said.
           “Something came up.  Weren’t you supposed to do Habitat for Humanity?”
           Devi nodded.  “I had an incident with a hammer.  Apparently, you aren’t supposed to bedazzle it.”
           Ben smirked.  “You bedazzled your hammer?”
           “Oh, yeah.  I added feathers, too.  Honestly, it was an upgrade.”
           “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to take you,” he mocked.
           Devi shrugged.  “Probably for the best.  I mean, would you want a house built by me?”
           “You make a fair point.”
           “So, here we are,” Devi said.  “Slumming it at the retirement home.”
           “You may want to say that a little louder.  I don’t think the guy in the back with the hearing aid heard you.”
           “But, you know what, if anyone can make the best out this, it’s you and me, Gross.”
           She flashed him a smile and he felt it all the way down to his toes.  This was going to be a long three months.
----
           It turned out, Ben was surprisingly adept at being around old people, and Devi was an immediate crowd pleaser.
           “Even Marvin likes me,” Devi said.  “And I’m pretty sure he’s a low-key racist.”
           “Not that low key.  He specifically asked me to help him fill out a banking form yesterday because, as he put it, your people are good at that.”
           “Damn.  Remind me to not give him an extra pudding cup.”
           One of the long-time residents, Gladys, rolled by with her walker and said, “Benjamin, don’t forget my granddaughter is visiting this afternoon.  I told her all about you.”
           “I won’t forget, Gladys.”
           “Look at you, Benjamin.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Using the residents to get a date.  Honestly, it’s sort of genius.  If I wasn’t dating Paxton, I would totally use these guys to pimp myself out.”
           “Slow down, David.  Gladys came to me about her granddaughter.  I’m not that desperate.  I have options.”
           “Sure, you do, Ben.”
           “But, um, you and Paxton?  That’s going well?”
           He didn’t know why he asked.  You don’t ask the girl you’re in love with how her relationship is going, but he asked, and now he had no choice but to hear the answer.
           “Yeah, it is,” Devi said.  She tucked her hair behind her ears as she smiled, and Ben wished he could sink directly down into the ground.
           “That’s great.”
           “Yeah.  It is.”
           That afternoon, he asked Gladys’ granddaughter out on a date.
----
           Ben could always tell when Devi and Paxton were fighting by her mood.  She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and while in a relationship, that hadn’t changed.  He noticed it a few weeks in.  She went back into the employees’ area and shoved her bag forcefully into the cubby hole.
           “Did the cubby hole do something to you?” he asked.
           “No,” she said stubbornly.  “The cubby hole is doing nothing.  Which is the problem.  The cubby hole just sits there playing video games all day.  Which, sure, I can play some Mario Kart here and there.  I’m a team player.  But, at a certain point, enough with the stupid video games.  I am not dating freaking Yoshi!”
           Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know a cubby hole had apposable thumbs to play video games.”
           She shot him a look, but then couldn’t help but laugh.
           “The cubby hole was a metaphor.”
           “Yeah, I caught on to that.”
----
           Ben found it remarkably easy to be around her, even as his feelings stayed rooted to the core, and at a certain point he became resigned to it all.  Maybe Devi was just one of those people he would always have feelings for.  Isn’t that what they said about your first love?  You could move on, but you never really forgot it.  So, he would love her and just move on.
           He dated Gladys’ granddaughter, enjoying himself but never really feeling anything beneath surface level.  But, she was nice enough, and Gladys was delighted by the pairing, even as the volunteer coordinator was not.
           “Just don’t have sex anywhere on property,” she had said in a huff.
           “I, uh, won’t.  Thanks for the clarification.”
           He was dating someone else.  He and Devi were finally sort of back to how they were before.  And then he accidentally ate pecans.
           “Oh my God, Ben, your mouth is getting huge,” Devi said, eyes wide with concern.
           “I am so sorry,” Gladys’ granddaughter said. “I thought the muffin was banana-walnut, not banana-pecan.”
           “Do you have an Epi-Pen or something?”  Devi barked at the terrified looking volunteer coordinator.
           “No, and even if we did, I don’t think we can technically use it on a non-resident.”
           “Are you freaking kidding me right now?  Do you see him?”  She pointed at Ben, whose face was rapidly growing in size.  “You know what, I’ll just handle it myself.”
           Devi dragged him out to her car, which was concerning since he knew she only just got her license the week before, and he also knew based on what she told him that her passing was a total fluke.  
           “I think I’d rather go into anaphylactic shock in there,” he said, already turning back toward the retirement home.
           “Don’t be dumb, Ben,” she said, forcefully pulling him back to the car.  “You are not going into anaphylactic shock.  I’ll take you to my mom’s office and she can give you a shot or something. She’s only a few minutes away.”
           He reluctantly got into the car, and Devi started her car, forgetting to put it into reverse before she pressed on the gas. The car lurched forward, nearly hitting the one parked in front of them, and Ben said, “Please don’t let me die in this car.”
           “No one is dying today, Ben Gross.  So, calm down, okay?  I got this.”
           It was not exactly a smooth ride, but true to her word, five minutes later they pulled into a parking spot in front of Dr. Vishwakumar’s office.  They burst into the office, Ben now leaning a bit on Devi as it became harder to breath.
           “I’m pretty sure I’m going into anaphylactic shock,” he gasped.
           “No, you are not.  You are fine.”  Devi’s words were calm, but her tone was not.
           Nalini Vishwakumar walked out of her office and stopped short when she saw Devi and Ben.
           “What in the world – Benjamin, what happened to your face?”
           “He ate pecans which, turns out, he’s also allergic to,” Devi said quickly.  “Can you give him a shot or something?”
           “Devi, you should have taken him to the emergency room!” Nalini said, rushing over to her daughter and Ben and bringing them back to an examination room.
           “The hospital was farther away.”
           Ben became to gasp for breath and Nalini hissed, “He’s going into anaphylactic shock.”
           Ben could barely breathe, but he managed a, “Told you.”
           “Well, how was I supposed to know!”  Devi said loudly.
           One shot of epinephrine and an IV full of antihistamines and cortisone later, Ben could breathe again, but Nilani made him stay for a while longer so that she could observe him.  She put he and Devi in one of the unused examination rooms, and told them to let her know if he had any more trouble breathing.  Devi sat next to him, her knees pulled tight into her chest.
           “I’m sorry that I almost killed you.”
           “You’re not getting valedictorian that easily.”
           He was joking because, yeah, his throat had almost closed up and she probably should have taken him to the hospital and not her mom’s office, but it was fine now.  Except, when he looked over at Devi, she still looked scared.  After a beat, she launched herself toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.  
           “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back.  “I’m okay.”
           She pulled away and gave his arm a light punch. “You really scared me.”
           “Yeah, well, next time I’ll double check my banana-walnut muffin actually has walnuts.”
           “And I’ll believe you when you say your throat is closing up.”
           Devi’s phone rang and he saw Paxton’s name flash on the screen.  He asked her, “Do you need to get that?”
           He watched her hesitate before sending it to voicemail.
----
           Devi and Paxton broke up a week later.  He found out from one of the retirement home residents, who he overheard telling Devi, “You’re better off, Devi.  Take it from an old woman.  You have the rest of your life to be with one person.  Now is the time to be free.  Sow your wild oats, if you will.”
           “Um, I don’t really know what that last part means, but I feel you.  I mean, I’m too young and hot to be tied down, right?”
           “Exactly.  You know, I have a grandson you might be interested in.  He’s pre-med.”
           “I appreciate the offer, Beatrice.  And offering me your grandson after I just broke up with my boyfriend?  Savage. But, I think I need to take some time by myself.”
           That afternoon during bingo, Ben casually brought up the breakup after calling out B-27.
           “Are you okay?” he asked.
           “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.  She ran the machine and picked out the next ball.  “B-13!”  She put the ball down and said in a regular volume voice, “We just didn’t have that much in common.”
           “Yeah, I bet,” Ben said automatically.
           “Wow, okay,” Devi said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound reassuring.
           “I didn’t mean,..” he trailed off, because he kind of did.  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”  He paused and picked up the next ball.  “N-7!”
           “Bingo!”
----
           Summer was coming to a close, and so was their time at the retirement home.  For some reason, Ben felt an impending sense of dread.  Sure, he would still see Devi, but it would be different.  Everyone else would be added back to the mix, including Paxton.  
           Their last big event at the retirement home was a movie night.  They set up a projector in one of the recreation rooms and made it up like an old theater, complete with velvet ropes and individual little bags of popcorn. They even wore old-timey usher costumes they rented from a local costume shop.
           “Does yours also smell like nachos?”  Devi asked.
           “Yeah.  I’m trying not to think about it.”
           The movie was It Happened One Night, and Devi and Ben sat in the back, watching the movie along with the residents.  It was secretly one of Ben’s favorites.  He and his mom had spent little time together when he was growing up, but she shared with him her love of old movies.
           It was the Jericho scene, where Clark Gable’s character was setting up a sheet between him and Claudette Colbert in their motel room.  He stripped down to just his undershirt, and Devi mused, “Clark Gable was super bangable.”
           “Shh,” Ben said.  “This is my favorite part.”
           Devi looked over at him and grinned.  Feeling her gaze, he glanced over and felt his breath stop when their eyes met.  They were close, and in the darkness her eyes seemed to glow.  He always thought she had pretty eyes.  Even before, when he hated her more times than he liked her. He felt an urge to lean forward. It would be so easy.  Just the slightest lean and his mouth would be against hers.  But, that would just be a kiss in the back of a dark room.  He wanted more.
           “Eleanor told me that you wanted to choose me after Malibu.”
           She blinked rapidly.  “What?”
           “After you scattered your dad’s ashes.  She said you wanted to choose me, but they made you also consider Paxton.”
           “Okay.”
           “Is that true?”
           Devi didn’t answer, so he kept talking.
           “And she said that you started the rumor about Aneesa because you thought that we were dating and you were jealous.  And, you see, I’ve had it in my mind all this time that it was always Paxton.  And that I was, I don’t know, some detour on the way, but-“
           “You were not a detour,” Devi said immediately. “You were…you were perfect.  And I messed us up.”
           “So, Eleanor was telling the truth?”
           Devi nodded.  “Yeah, she was.”
           Ben took a deep breath.  “Devi.  I’m going to kiss you now.”
           She nodded, all business, but he could hear the nerves in her voice when she said, “Okay.  Thank you for the advanced warning.”
           He leaned in and captured her mouth with his.  The kiss was sweet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.  And in a way, they did.  There was a noise behind them, and they pulled apart abruptly.  Their supervisor stood over them and said, "Remember what I said about no sex on property?"
"Are you kidding me right now?"  Devi said.  "Who is having sex in these gross costumes?"
"You'd be surprised."
The supervisor walked away, and Devi looked at Ben.  "You don't think she meant..."
"I think she absolutely did."
"I need to take this off immediately."
32 notes · View notes
crimsonspade · 3 years
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Ambushed with Apathy Year 8, Gotham City
He’d just gotten his helmet off and tossed his cape across his bed. It had been a long night, and dawn was just starting to break through Gotham’s perpetual cloud cover. He was really looking forward to a lukewarm shower and maybe four hours of sleep before he had to report into WayneChem for work.
Just as he was reaching up to undo his bow tie he heard a click behind him. Spinning around and into a defensive position, hand ready to grab one of his many knives, he saw an intruder in his apartment.
If one was so inclined, she could be described as breathtakingly beautiful. Smooth dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes that flicked over him as if he were a worm beneath her leather boot. Good thing Hood wasn’t inclined so he could just mentally describe her as looking full of herself.
“Who,” Hood started to ask, only to be interrupted by her accented voice.
“So you are the one distracting my beloved.” She did a pointedly slow appraisal of him and then around his crappy apartment. “What a joke.”
Hood straightened up in affront. Ok so maybe his place could be cleaner. And he could organize his many, many article clippings of Batman covering the walls. But he wasn’t exactly expecting company tonight...or ever. Who did this woman think she was, that she could break into his place and judge him like some queen?
“Pardon me, Your Highness, but what do you think you’re doing here?” He waved a hand to indicate his abode, slipping the knife from his sleeve into his palm at the same time, just in case.
“I am Talia Al Ghul. I came to see for myself why my beloved has declined a return into the fold of the League of Shadows. You are the Red Hood, a chain keeping him here. You are very underwhelming.” Talia flocked her hair over her shoulder, turning to browse his collection of Batman merchandise, “And tacky.”
Hood narrowed his eyes, he’d heard of the Shadows...Who was she talking about him chaining to Gotham? Wait, she couldn’t possibly mean- “Batman? Bats was in the League? I don’t believe you.”
She gave him an arrogant smirk over her shoulder, picking up the silver batarang he’d had mounted on one of his shelves. “Where did you think he learned how to utilize the darkness?”
Her attention returned to looking at his collection and Hood found that he didn’t have any evidence to contradict her. From what he knew of Bats’ training, he traveled the world and learned from multiple teachers. But he rarely went any further into it than that...
“Alright. Say I believe you. You’re trying to...what. Threaten me to try and get Batsy back? Lady, you might just belong in Gotham, because that’s insane.” Deciding to go along with this for now, Hood walked over to his dresser to continue his plans for the next few hours. Looks like it’d just be peppered with thinly veiled hostile conversation. Twirling his knife he placed it down and started undoing his cufflinks.
“I’ve looked into you, Hood. You barely exist. You are holding him back from his full potential, potential the Shadows can help him accomplish, changing the world, not just this derelict City.” Talia toyed with the batarang, flipping it between her fingers. Hood eyed her and silently wished she’d cut her hands.
“I’m his partner, and that ‘derelict City’ is our home and probably the biggest thing Bats cares about.”
“Then perhaps the City also needs to go.” Talia mused, turning on her heel to face Hood once more. Her sharp eyes followed his every movement, looking for a threat. He noted with irritation that she’d yet to put down his batarang prize.
“There’s a fast-track to getting on Batsy’s bad side. Go ahead, I’ll eat popcorn and watch as he stops you.”
“Not even Batman can stop the League of Shadows.” Talia declared with a tilt of her head. Hood raised a brow.
“If you really believe that then why are you trying so hard to get him to join you?” He asked with a smirk. The glare she shot him might’ve been threatening to any other person. Hood just barely restrained a chuckle and let out a soft huff instead.
“You don’t like me. I’m not thrilled about you either. But I’m not the one going anywhere in Bat’s life, so suck it up buttercup.” Hood said as he slid his suit jacket off his shoulders. With practiced movements he took out the various knives kept in the lining and sleeves, laying them out on his dresser.
Talia watched in growing offense as he proceeded to turn his back, leveraging one leg up onto his dresser to get at the ankle knife kept there which joined the others in the pile. Her scowl deepened as Hood took out the light chain whip from the small of his back and set it next to his pile of knives.
“You dare disarm before one who announces her intent to be your enemy?”
“Hey, before you barged in I was planning on taking a shower. Besides, you’re not going to kill me, Highness.” Hood replied without facing her, emptying his pockets of his mini smoke bombs and flash grenades. He felt the air shift behind him, as Talia closed the ten feet between them and pulled his shoulder so they were face to face with his back pressing painfully into his dresser.
The prickle of cold steel against his bare throat would’ve given him goosebumps if he hadn’t expected it. Talia stood barely inches from his face, pressing her pilfered batarang to his throat until it was just barely not cutting skin.
“What’s stopping me from slitting your throat right here and being done with you?” She hissed with a furious look in her eyes.
For the first time that evening, Hood gave a broad smile, stretching his scars until it hurt.
“You could,” He admitted, his smile not dimming in the slightest as he nodded and a line of blood appeared as he moved against the blade against his throat, “But you won’t be getting out of this apartment without my little pen knife here going three inches into your liver, causing you to bleed out in, ohhh, less than three minutes?”
Without moving a muscle, she looked down. Hood flexed his hand around the knife in question to make his point, heh, clear. He’d kept one knife up his sleeve, and now the tip was digging into her side, just one little jab and it would do exactly as he said.
“You are a vigilante, you follow my beloved’s foolish ideal of not causing death, you are bluffing.” She insisted, bringing her eyes to lock again with his.
“Oh am I, sugarplum? Well, if you think that, then maybe you should roll these dice and see just which one of us is bluffing.” Hood raised his brows, eyes wide and smiled even wider. It caused her to draw back, even just a fraction.
The glow of his green eyes this close was...unsettling.
With exaggerated slowness, and without breaking eye contact, Talia removed the batarang she held to his neck. Hood lowered the tip of his knife at the same time.
“You are less than nothing. He will grow bored of you.” Who was she trying to convince? Him or herself? Hood snorted.
“Which one of us is the entertainer here, Your Highness? I’m the co-star every opening night, while you’re barely a featured guest.”
Retreating towards the window, Talia turned to go. Hood growled, bringing his arm and knife back up, “Ah, ah, ah. Forgetting something, Your Highness?” She looked back and wordlessly Hood used his knife to indicate the batarang she still had in her hand. “Get your own.”
Suddenly slicing through the air next his head, the batarang lodged itself into the wall behind him, bisecting one of his articles of Bats fighting Penguin in Metropolis. Dang, now he’d have to ask for a reprint.
“I am still not impressed.” Talia stated with a glare. Hood doesn’t roll his eyes despite feeling the urge.
“The feelin’s mutual, cupcake. Get. Out.” He bites out, patience thoroughly used up.
Maintaining eye contact, she goes. Hood doesn’t blink until he is looking out at the rising sun and finds no trace of her. Only then does he allow his shoulders to slump and let out a tired sigh.
On second thought, he’d skip the shower. Collapsing onto his bed sounded wonderful.
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Text
Baby Love - Part 10
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A/N - Finally an update!! 💕
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chrisevans I'm so excited to announce that Y/N and I are expecting!! We are both over the moon.... i cannot even put into words how happy i am right now.
Mama and baby are both doing great and Dodger is thrilled that he's about to become a big brother.
#BabygirlEvansComingSoon
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It was a few weeks after the premiere, middle of May, my 5th month in my pregnancy that Chris finally put out the announcement and surprisingly it went well....better than i could ever have imagined. The messages from Chris's fans were amazing! Of course there was still some haters but nothing that was too awful or couldn't be ignored. It was nice that it was out now and i didn't have to worry about someone finding out and leaking it to the press.
Chris was scheduled to start filming 'Defending Jacob' a series for Apple TV mid June through to July. The good thing being it was filming in Massachusetts, 20 minutes from home so he wouldn't have to stay away.
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Chris was finally upstairs getting ready so he could head to set, he had been whining this morning about wanting to stay home with his girls.
I was currently laying on the sofa in a sports bra and shorts, with my now 6 month belly showing while i watched some crappy daytime show.... i had removed Chris's t-shirt when i started getting hot flushes.
"Okay im ready to.....go. Jesus christ why are you half naked right now?" I looked round to see Chris looking me up and down like i was the tastiest thing he'd ever seen. I rolled my eyes looking back at the TV "hot flushes, i sweat through my shirt...i feel like I'm burning alive"
"Such a drama queen" he chuckled
"Excuse you?..... you wanna try going through this??" I snapped, i knew as soon as it was out of my mouth it was uncalled for and instantly felt bad "I'm sorry i didn't mean to snap.... is the damn AC even working?" i said almost feeling like i was gonna cry. Chris came walking over crouching in front of me with a cold cloth and draped it across my forehead.
"That should help a little and i got you some ice..." he passed me a cup of ice chips and i cried.
"Hey! Whats wrong?"
"You're just the best boyfriend ever"
"Awww" he chuckled pressing a kiss to my forehead.
"Don't.... I'm all sweaty and gross"
"I like you all sweaty" he wriggled his eyebrows making me laugh "and you're not gross..... you're beautiful. I nearly had a heart attack seeing you laying here looking like this.... now i really don't wanna leave"
"You have to, stop making excuses"
"I dont want to leave you alone like this..."
"I wont be, Scott's coming over we're gonna go for lunch later"
"Oh.... "
"You're okay with that right?"
"Yeah of course" he smiled before leaning in to give me a kiss.
"Hey! its just me!" Scott yelled from the front door on cue.
"In here!" I yelled reaching my hands out to Chris to help me up into a sitting position.
"Yikes! what is going on with you you're a mess" Scott said looking concerned.
"Thanks! Thats just what i needed to hear Scotty" i scooped out an ice chip and popped it in my mouth.
"Hot flushes" Chris told Scott and he pulled a face.
"I'll be okay in a minute, it'll pass. Though im pretty tempted to go jump in the damn pool right about now"
"Stay outta the pool sweetheart, maybe a lukewarm bath or shower would help?"
"I'll be fine Chris, you need to go or you're gonna be late"
"I don't wanna leave you alone...."
"Err hello? Im here, she's not alone" Scott said coming to sit next to me on the sofa.
"Can you put your shirt back on.....i don't feel comfortable...." Chris started to say while looking me over again.
"Stop! I am not putting that thing back on when i feel like I'm in the pits of hell Evans!" I said pointing at the soaking wet t-shirt on the table " besides Scott's seen me in my bathing suit plenty of times.... I'm wearing more now than i was then! also incase you forgot.... I'm not his type"
"I feel insulted!" Scott gasped before smiling at his brother.
"Just go to work! I will call you if i need anything, we'll be fine".
Chris sighed but nodded, he leant in and gave me a kiss and finally left for set.
"Geez he always like that?"
"No, he's got a little more protective as the pregnancy has gone on but that was new"
"He's probably just worried about you. This is the first time he's had to really leave you since you've been pregnant"
"He'll be back tonight! He needs to chill out. I know i sound like a bitch and i really don't mean to but i literally feel like Satan himself is roasting my body!"
"You want some more ice chips?"
"Yes please".
After another 30/40 minutes i finally felt myself cooling down.
"Oh thank god! I think it passed"
"For now"
"Thanks!" I laughed "I've had a few hot flushes here and there but nothing like that... that was brutal!"
"Well I'm glad it passed, why don't you go take a shower and we'll go get some lunch, it will do you good to get some fresh air, we can even take Dodger"
"Sounds good to me".
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Scott and i grabbed lunch at a small family run cafe that was kinda tucked away, not a lot of people actually knew about it which was the reason we chose this place when we'd have lunch....it also had a small outside seating area where we could sit with Dodger.
Once we were done with lunch we took Dodger for a walk in the park where he found a new friend, they ran around together for a good half an hour.
"Wow he's gonna be beat" Scott laughed as we sat on a bench watching the two dogs running around.
"Good! He has too much energy!"
I chuckled "i'll be wanting to sleep and he brings me his toys wanting to play its exhausting" i said exaggerating, truth was i loved that Dodger always wanted my attention.
"Well he's gonna have to learn to share you when my niece arrives"
"Do you think he'll be okay with the baby?"
"Im sure he will, Dodge is a good boy"
"The best, i just worry. I worry about everything lately though" i laugh rubbing my hand over my belly "you ready to head back?"
"Sure"
I whistle and call for Dodger and he comes running straight over allowing me to attach he's leash.
"Lets go home bubba" i scratched behind his ear before handing the leash to Scott.
We got back to the house and let Dodger out of the car, he ran straight towards the front door and started growling and scratching at the door.
"Hey stop!" Scott said quickly and Dodger turned to look at him before starting again this time barking loudly.
"Whats his problem?"
"I don't know....."
"Maybe Chris is home?"
"His car isn't here....." i opened the door and Dodger ran inside sniffing everywhere.
"Hey Chris you home?" Scott called out but i already knew he wasn't, this didn't feel right.....
"Scott, somethings wrong....."
"What do you mean?" He asked turning to me looking concerned.
"I don't know its just a feeling i have"
Dodger suddenly ran past us and up the stairs, we followed him up to find him sitting outside mine and Chris's bedroom scratching at the door.
"Chris....." Scott called again thinking Dodger just wanted to get to him but no answer, the house was silent.
Scott stepped forward and opened the door and we both gasped at the what we saw. The whole room was trashed.
"Scott..... what if someones still in the house?" I turned to him with wide eyes as panic set it.
"Stay in here with Dodger, I'm gonna check the house..."
"No! Just call the cops, stay in here with us!"
"I'll be fine! They're probably long gone, Dodger would be going crazy if they were still here...but i just wanna make sure".
"Please be careful! I'll call the cops"
"Okay lock the door behind me".
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Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba
Baby love tags @jennmurawski13 @mybabyboytony @ms-betsy-fangirl @vampgirl1997 @ajosieface @afuckingshituniverse @chmedic @esoltis280
@southerngracela @bethabear12 @letsdisneythings @sellulii @katiew1973 @princess-evans-addict
@deidrahouseofpain @siren-queen03 @shipatheart @little-dark-empress @xxloki81xx @lizzyclifford13-blog @booktease21 @lets--be-honest @thevelvetseries @farfromtommy @mery-be @drakelover78
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raichijin · 4 years
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⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition.  ❥ a one-shot.
━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)
preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.
word count; 5k words.
starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.
summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.
warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.
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you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.
he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.
cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.
that has to be it.
your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.
you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.
denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.
if they know what’s going on, they never mention it. 
and it’s a little easier to cope that way.
you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.
you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.
you think you did.
you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.
and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.
a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.
he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.
the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.
though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.
he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better. 
the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.
“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger. 
then everything clicks into place.
did you cheat? was he cheating?
all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.
you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,
and you think that’s when you pass out.
you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.
no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.
he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”
you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”
he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”
“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.
“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.
granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.
he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.
to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.
you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.
“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.
so bold and sure, warm and kind.
“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.
while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.
there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.
the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.
until you broach the topic of your friends.
you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.
his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.
“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”
“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.
“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.
"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell. 
"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."
you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.
you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.
"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."
you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.
"togata." you perk up.
“what?”
“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.” 
“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.
“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.
“so what do you want to do?”
you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.
“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.
you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh. 
“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.
“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”
“thanks.”
you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on. 
your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.
“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”
“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”
your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back.  ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”
it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.
he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.
“togata? who?” 
“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.
“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.
“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”
two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.
reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.
you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.
oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.
the silence carries.
fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.
“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.
“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.
“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..
“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.
“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”
“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.
“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?” 
“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.
“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.
his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”
seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.
“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply. 
“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he? 
“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.
you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.
“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”
“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.
“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”
you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it. 
mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.
the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.
he squints at you, confused.
“what’re you apologizing for?”
“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”
“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right. 
your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.
it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.
“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.
mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming. 
from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—
he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.
he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.
the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.
“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.
“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.
“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.” 
you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”
you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.
“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess." 
you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.
coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.
 what the fuck is wrong with you?
 who the hell is this guy?
beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.
have you been cheating on me? 
for how long
how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?
you’re fucking pathetic.
heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone. 
fuck. fuck fuck fuck.
you hang up, and try again.
this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.
“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.
“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”
“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.
“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”
“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”
“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying. 
“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”
“you don’t mean that—”
“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.
“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.
“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”
the line goes dead after that.
you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.
“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.
you don’t want to be seen.
mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.
you show her your phone. the texts.
she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.
her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.
“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults. 
“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.
you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.
when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.
a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.
“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”
there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.
“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest. 
“we’ll figure something out.”
while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.
togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.
it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon. 
but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.
he smiles fondly at you.
you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.
then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all. 
“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.
“wait.”
“that was our date?”
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𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ;  @mitsusuri​ @okayshin​ @tamasoft
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pipermca · 3 years
Text
Rough Draft: The King and the Bounty Hunter (part 2)
We are under an intense heat wave. I hate hot weather, and my brain shuts down if I get too hot. But, if the new little AC unit we bought can keep up with the horrible heat we're getting over the next week, I'm hoping that I can get some writing done.
After all, I won't have much else to do, trapped inside in this little room with the AC going. 😅
Anyway, here's the next part of The King and the Bounty Hunter.
Part 1 is here.
************************************************
Smokescreen woke to a firm knock on his berthroom door, and his head guard's voice saying, "Your Majesty... Your morning fuel arrived some time ago, and Prince Prowl will be here soon." He could almost picture the worried frown on Barrage's face. "Your Majesty? Are you all right?"
Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Smokescreen just barely succeeded in suppressing a groan. "Yes. Thank you, Barrage," he managed to say without his vocalizer garbling the words too much. He checked his chronometer, and this time a groan did escape when he realized how late it was. "I'll be out in just a klik."
"Yes, your Majesty." Smokescreen heard pedesteps on the floor outside his berthroom as Barrage retreated. After hearing the door to his apartments close, Smokescreen levered himself to a sitting position and rubbed at his face. His head was throbbing, just like usual after a night spent emptying a bottle, but at least this time his tanks weren't churning. He thought he might even be able to keep down his morning fuel.
Primus knew, Prowl would notice.
With some effort, Smokescreen pushed himself to a standing position and staggered into the wash rack. He glowered at himself in the mirror, taking in the dim glow of his optics and his dulled finish. Having a fourth or fifth glass of engex always seemed like a good idea at the time. The next morning, however...
Smokescreen emerged into the brightly-lit living area of his apartments. The staff had indeed been here: the curtains had been flung open to let in the morning light, and a tray of fuel service was sitting on the table. Squinting against the painfully bright light, Smokescreen pulled the curtains closed again, dropping the room back into shadows, before sitting down at the table. The staff had brought him a carafe of light fuel, and it was already lukewarm. But amongst the usual flavourings for his fuel, they'd also put a small container of iron shavings, to help calm his tanks, and a tiny packet of olivine powder to dull the pain in his processor.
Putting a generous spoonful of iron into his fuel, Smokescreen was both grateful for how observant the servants were, and embarrassed that they knew he'd feel like rusty scrap this morning. As he tapped the olivine powder into his cup, he wondered how much of his drunkenness had gotten back to Prowl.
He didn't need to wonder for long. Prowl arrived when Smokescreen was about halfway done with his fuel. His brother looked alert and freshly waxed (despite having spent the night with Jazz), and he frowned at Smokescreen when he came in. "I wish you'd keep more consistent hours, Smokescreen. You remember what Triage said about the importance of keeping a regular recharge cycle," Prowl said after Smokescreen's muted greeting. "The staff said you were up very late. Drinking. Alone." Prowl's sensor wings dipped. "Again."
Smokescreen avoided rolling his optics at his brother. Prowl always had Smokescreen's best interests at spark; there's no way Smokescreen could begrudge him that. Instead, Smokescreen just shook him helm. "I wasn't alone for very long. And I was up late because I was talking to the bounty hunter, who you had invited to dinner." Smokescreen pointed at Prowl. "After he retired for the evening, I only stayed up long enough to finish the glass I'd poured." He made a show of taking a drink of his tepid morning fuel, careful not to grimace at the taste. "I'm fine."
His action seemed to do little to mollify Prowl, as he flicked his wings out again. And Prowl's frown remained. "If you say so, your Majesty," Prowl said, his tone flat.
"Oh come on, don't be like that," Smokescreen said. He took the opportunity to set down his cup, hoping that the churn of his tanks would calm before he needed to take another sip for show. When Prowl's frown did not let up, Smokescreen vented softly. "Or, whatever. Be like that. Let's go over my schedule for the day, your Highness," Smokescreen said, letting his irritation show in his tone and in the set of his wings. "I want to make sure I have time to see off our guest."
Prowl's expression finally changed, a flash of surprise lighting his optics. "It's too late for that," Prowl said, glancing at the notes in his hand. "The night watch reported that Devcon left well before sunrise."
"Oh. Really?" Smokescreen frowned again, this time in surprise and disappointment. He hadn't realized how much he'd been looking forward to seeing the bounty hunter one more time until the opportunity vanished. He shifted forward in his chair and poured himself another cup of fuel as he tried to school his expression and the set of his wings. "Well, I hope he enjoyed his stay at the palace," Smokescreen added, this time allowing bitterness to bleed into his voice.
But Smokescreen needn't have bothered trying to hide his disappointment from Prowl, as his brother was sifting through the notes and scrolls he'd brought with him. "Yes, it was a bit unusual. His payment for the contract on Prelate Hitch had been taken to his room last night while we were dining. But the morning staff reported that after he left they found a letter, addressed to you." Prowl handed Smokescreen a carefully folded letter, sealed with a simple sigil in the shape of a triangle.
Smokescreen cracked the letter open immediately, and scanned the careful, blocky text inside.
Your Majesty,
Thank you for your gracious hospitality. In the interests of moving on to my next contract, I regret that I am required to depart without thanking you in person. I hope this letter will suffice.
After your tale of the struggles of some citizens of Praxus, specifically those of Emerald Lake, I find myself moved. I hope you do not mind if I made some enquiries on their behalf.
Humbly,
Devcon of Altihex
When Smokescreen looked up again, Prowl's sensor wings were tipped upwards quizzically. Smokescreen handed the letter over to Prowl, who read it quickly before looking up at Smokescreen again. "What did you tell him about Emerald Lake?" Prowl asked.
Smokescreen tried to remember exactly how much he'd told Devcon the previous night. "Um, just about the protected accounts, and how Crossflare basically bankrupted the principality when she left," he said. Then he did roll his optics at his brother. "Don't give me that look. If he'd talked to anyone in the market here, he would have heard the same thing. I didn't give him any privileged information."
Or at least I don't think I did, Smokescreen though.
Prowl's lips were still pressed together, but after a shake of his helm he seemed to set aside the scolding he wanted to give the King. "Very well," he said, and selected another page from his notes. "Now, the first item on your schedule today is a continuation of the discussion with your inner Court regarding your unbonded status, followed by another review of the proposed articles of government with the Legislative Committee."
Smokescreen took another drink of his cold fuel and tried to pay attention.
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imcryingbuckets · 3 years
Text
My Whole Heart "Hates" You
I did it. Ha, yes, I wrote a Bill Hader x OFC fanfiction. Although I write a lot in my spare time, I've never written a fic before so pls be nice :(
It's sorta enemies to lovers, I know y'all love that shit, so I hope everyone likes it. Or at least one person. It's going to be multiple chapters, but I've only written the first one so far!
TW: Swearing, a lot of it (I'm British, sue me), no sexual content in this chapter, but if there is any in future chapters I will be sure to notify you (warnings are already tagged on ao3 just in case I forget to add them later on)
Summary: Violet works at Studio 8H, for Saturday Night Live! But one Monday morning she turns up to work to find out that Bill Hader is hosting. They have a past of getting under each other's skin and constantly getting into arguments and spats all over the office, but will that change when he returns to host this time? Will they put aside their differences? Do they really hate each other or are they just bad at flirting? I'm sure you know the answer to all these questions, but how 'bout you read this anyways! I suck at summaries
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31072760/chapters/76766612
Chapter One: Oh, boy.
I walk into Studio 8H clutching a hot cup of coffee in my hand, in attempt to bring myself some warmth during the surprisingly cold breeze of March. Arriving at the building only a few minutes late (better than usual), I quickly set my things down at my desk and walk over to Lorne’s office with my co-workers to find out the host line-up for the next month. We all file in and find seats, some of us sitting cross-legged on the floor, and we collectively gaze upon the corkboard as Lorne fills us all in. My stomach twists into knots as I read the first blue postcard pinned up, blinking twice to make sure I’m not seeing things. I rub my eyes because maybe I saw it wrong, maybe he isn’t hosting, maybe I just have something in my eye. But when I look back up I know I’m wrong because everybody’s eyes are on me, staring closely with hesitance to watch how I’ll react. Right above the yellow card that read ‘Arcade Fire’ was a blue one, reading
BILL HADER
My mind begins to play out a thousand different scenarios and outcomes on what could happen this week, now that Hader would be here. I start getting a light headache (quite the ordinary when it came to working here) and I notice that everyone is still staring at me, some in remorse, and some in fear of how I’m going to react. I decide pretty quickly that I should say something to settle everyone’s nerves.
“Guys, seriously, chill the fuck out.” Perhaps a little harsher than I intended so I backpedal a bit. “I know what you’re all thinking, but stop, okay? It’s not like I’m gonna go batshit crazy when I see him and punch him in the face or something. I intend to keep my job, thank you very much.”
The faces all around the room seem to relax at this and return their attention back to Lorne. Thankfully, no one heard me add ‘As much as he is an absolute cockwomble’. Well, Kate might have as she started giggling on the floor next to me.#
Kate knows of my small hatred towards the man everyone on Earth seems to praise (Hatred is a strong word, annoyance is probably better suited for my feelings towards him but I genuinely just enjoy how the word rolls off the tongue). 4 years ago when Bill hosted SNL back in 2014, Kate was the one that put up with all my complaints and remarks about him, and she was often the one I went to when I needed to vent about anything really, middle-aged-comedian-themed or not. I feel a little guilty seeing as she will probably have to reprise her role as the one who deals with my Hader ‘hatred’ when she actually quite likes the man and has friendly chats and jokes with him whenever he’s around. Normally when I tell people this, they think that the fact that they’re both friends would annoy me. But I actually couldn’t give the smallest of fucks (pardon my French). I think it’s great that everyone gets on with him, good for them! But we never seemed to be able to do that.
See despite our efforts to be professional, we kept getting in small bickering matches across the office the last time he hosted. It was never full on screaming, just very heavily charged snide comments and evil glares to one another.
Back home in the UK, my friends and I would often joke around playfully and poke fun at each other, but it was all light-hearted and we all knew that. Even some of my friends here at work do the same. But when Bill was here, everyone that was unfortunately present to witness our spats and quarrels all knew that it didn’t come from a place of love or admiration as it did with anyone else. No, it came from this annoyance in our guts that we got from each other. It certainly made the entire office largely tense for the whole week leading up to the Saturday, and thankfully he skipped the after party so the terror ended after the last sketch of the night.
I feel bad knowing that we’ll probably put the entire building through the same torment as we did 4 years ago, but I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for Bill. No sir. Every nasty remark I threw at him I meant with 100% intention, and I feel no urge to take any of them back when I see him this afternoon when he walks into the office. Not because I’m some cold-hearted bitch, but because he said some things that were equally as bad as mine. So suck on that, William.
Quicker than expected, the meeting ends. I get up eagerly off the floor, with the intention to get to my office as quickly as possible with hopes to not run into Bill. However, before I get the chance to leave, I hear Lorne call after me to ask me to stay behind.
“I need to talk to you about this week’s host.”
I see Kate give me a small smile that said ‘good luck’ as she left through the door with the others and a wave of her hand. I turn back to the man behind the desk, not knowing what to expect, apart from the fact that it’s probably about Bill. Obviously.
“I’m assuming you’ve seen who the host is for Saturday?” he says.
I give him a small nod with a tight small and a mutter that resembled something close to a ‘yes’.
“Well I know that the last time he hosted, you two didn’t get along very well and had some…”
I watched him for a few seconds as he tried to find the right word.
“…differences.” He decides. “But I don’t want that same thing to happen again, it’s been 4 years now so I’m hoping that you’ve both matured at least a little.”
“Yes well he is like 40 now.” I respond, a little uncomfortable as I feel like a three-year-old getting scolded by their teacher for flicking crayons at the other kid’s head.
“Yes, well… I hope that you both can learn to get along, or at least push your differences aside for one week?”
I nod, “Yes, yes, ‘course.” Wanting the conversation to end before Bill arrives.
“Good to hear, Violet. Although, if I hear any screaming between the two of you, I won’t hesitate to step in and organise something to put an end to it. Understood?”
For a moment I thought he was suggesting firing me, but I caught the slight smirk on his face that told me something different. He was planning something mischievous, but I couldn’t place what. Nor did I care enough to look for it.
I sigh in relief and nod my head for what felt like the hundredth time that day, starting to feel a bit like a bobble-head doll. “Yes, Lorne, I understand. No bickering, got it.”
He smiled with a look that suggested he got the answer he wanted, and waved his hand to say I could go. I gave him a goodbye and made my out of his office and started to speed-walk to my own, crossing my fingers that Hader hadn’t arrived yet.
I thank the mighty beings in the sky that I made it to my desk without seeing him, and shut the door with a click. My eyes fall upon the coffee that I left earlier that morning in the rush to get to the meeting and I frown as I realise that it’s probably gone cold and all icky. I grasp the paper cup and I’m surprised to be met with warmth, I guess the meeting wasn’t as long as I thought it had been. Content with this happy discovery, I sit down in front of my computer and open a script document from the other night, sipping at my lukewarm coffee. I begin to rapidly type away and fall into the rhythm of writing, before I am frustratingly interrupted with a knock at my door.
I pull away from the screen and yell “Come in!” to whoever is on the other side of the door, standing up from my desk to throw my now-empty paper coffee cup in the bin (or trash as these Americans I work with call it). The door opens to reveal Aidy peeking her head hesitantly through to look at me with almost sorry eyes.
“Pitch meeting in Lorne’s office. Got to discuss sketch ideas with…the host.” She smiles kindly at me knowing that I don’t want to go and see him.
“With Bill you mean?” I say knowingly, to which she just nods her head. “Okay, well, best to just get it over with. And besides, maybe he’s less of a dick now?”
She laughs a little in attempt to be supportive. I think.
As we’re walking down the corridor, I think back to when I first met him back in 2014. Obviously I knew who he was, ‘Bill Hader: SNL Alumni, Comedian, Actor, Father, blah blah blah’. At the time, he was also ‘Husband’ but I was told that the fact was no longer true. I make a mental note to not be so harsh on him, not wanting to be that person who bashes him so soon after a divorce.
I remember I was actually quite fond of him at first, I watched most of his stuff and admittedly, he was my ‘celebrity crush’ for the longest time. And when I met him in person, he actually was exactly like everyone described him as: funny, sweet, charming, an all ‘round nice guy. Not to mention insanely attractive. He was cute, even I can admit that. I don’t really remember why we didn’t get along all those years ago. I think it was a mixture of a clash of personalities and the fact that we’re both quite stubborn. Terribly stubborn. From what I can remember, we never exactly agreed on sketches or punchlines or anything really. But like Lorne said, it’s been 4 years. Maybe we’ll get along better.
My train of thought gets lost when we reach the door to Lorne’s office. I see Aidy push it open and walk in as I follow her, hearing that everyone seems to be in the middle of a conversation. Right before I get through the door, I hear him. His loud, obnoxious laugh filling the room. The laugh that so easily gets under my skin and makes my stomach feel all weird and uneasy.
I head into the room and find a seat, and that’s when I look up to see him. Bill. Standing in front of me in a blue shirt and black jeans and those white trainers he seems to wear to every fucking interview. He stands there staring at me with this smirk on his face that make my cheeks go red. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there by Lorne’s desk and right before he looks away to continue his conversation with Kenan, he winks at me. I look down as not to cause trouble like Lorne said, and partly to hide my cheeks getting hotter and pinker by the second.
I tug at the loose thread of my sweater, looking at the floor to avoid his gaze. I don’t know why I’m getting so flustered, it is Bill after all. The man who so thoroughly annoys and teases me relentlessly. My mind begins to over-analyse everything and before it begins to run any further, I get called on to pitch a sketch idea.
Right before I open my mouth, I see Bill cross his arms in anticipation and looking deeply into my eyes with that stupid smile of his, probably eager to find something to tease me over later. But then I catch him lick his lips suddenly and a chill runs up my arms.
I look back down at my notepad and think, Oh boy, this week will be interesting.
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