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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Note

Hey! Love your stories on Ao3 and I’m so happy that I found some more of your work to read!❤️ If it’s okay can I make a poly request? I was thinking of a girl from our time being sent back to the lost boys and them falling for each other. There can be some angst if you want, such as her being sent back to her dimension but maybe finding a way to go back to their time after months of being away? Thank you for giving us some of the best stories ever! 💕

So, this is a pretty big request (possible spanning over multiple chapters), so I’m gonna actually write/continue this on my ao3 account! I may post the later chapters on here later, but for now I’m gonna keep them on ao3. Here’s the first chapter!

It’s Just a Movie (Fem!Reader x poly!Lost boys) fic

Next Chapter ->

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 1504

It had been a simple night. Sure, it was halloween and, sure, it was a full moon. A blue moon at that. But that didn’t mean anything, right?

You sure as hell didn’t think so as you went to see a showing of one of your favorite movies, the Lost Boys, with some of your friends. With everything going on with covid, the theaters were empty and your local one had been showing older classics for the past few weeks. They had a selection of horror lined up for halloween night, and your group had chosen to see your favorite vampire movie.

You had even dressed up for the occasion, donning a dark, almost gothic look. Hell, you practically looked like one of the extras in the opening sequence. You and your friends jammed along to the soundtrack, laughed at Sam’s antics, and nearly cried when you witnessed your four favorite vampires meet their inevitable end. A movie’s gotta have an ending, right? After Grandpa delivered the classic ending line, you and your friends packed it up to head outside.

Well, they did. You had forgotten your wallet, and you ran back into the theater to grab it. Your friends had promised to wait for you, and you fumbled to put your mask back on as you searched through the dim theater. You used your phone to find it half stuck in one of the chairs, and you quickly jogged out of the auditorium, and then the theater, to find that your friends weren’t waiting for you. And that the streets were far more packed then they had been a second ago.

Sure, there were people in halloween masks and costumes littered about, but you nearly scoffed when you saw that no one seemed to be taking any of the social distancing rules seriously. You took a step, planning on looking for your friends when you noticed that the theater had almost...changed. The outside didn’t look the same as it did before. Instead, it had the old sign outside, broadcasting what movies were playing inside. Sure, you had expected some older movies, but some of these you hadn’t even heard of. You thought it was weird, considering the theaters would probably want to stick to the most popular ones during a pandemic.

You looked back around, but your friends were nowhere in sight. You thought to walk to the parking lot, but you paused. You heard a whistle, and a wave of relief washed over you. You turned, expecting your friends, and, instead, you were met with a different familiar face. This night couldn’t have gotten any weirder.

You looked him up and down. Teased blonde hair, blue eyes, straight nose, slight stubble on his sharp jawline, a black coat paired with white pants and a mesh shirt? He was even wearing those calf things that your friends had made fun of that one time, because what the hell type of 80s fashion things are those supposed to be? You shook your head, touching one side of your forehead while thinking that perhaps you had hit your head or something while looking for your wallet. There was no way you were looking at Paul from the Lost Boys. He sent you a grin, flashing rows of straight, normal, non-vampire looking teeth, and said,

“Well, hello there to you too, doll-face. Need some company?” He asked, and you nearly thought about pinching yourself. Holy shit. Before you could answer, you heard,

“Who’s this?” And you wouldn’t have been surprised if this whole sitation wasn’t boggling your mind. As all the fans knew that where one Lost Boy was, the others weren’t far behind. You turned, and found yourself looking directly into the face of the other natural blonde. You met big, hazel colored eyes, and your eyes instinctively fell to his lips. Just in time to watch his thumb be pushed between them. Clean jaw, cherub face, golden curls, a heavy, colorful jacket, jeans, and leather chaps? There was no mistaking him. The second half of the blonde duo had arrived, and you almost wondered if the others weren’t far behind.

“I don’t know. She seems shy.” Paul said, a smile on his face as he reached out to brush a hand against your cheek. Cold fingers barely brushed against you, and you leaned back. Almost into the blonde on your other side, who had taken the spot right next to you. “I’m Paul, and that’s my buddy Marko.” Paul added, pointing at the blonde with his eyes. Before they trained themselves back onto you. Marko leaned in a bit to say into your ear.

“Your turn.” And it nearly caused you to flinch. He laughed, steadying you. “C’mon, we don’t bite.” He said with a grin, and a shiver nearly ran down your back when the taller of the blondes laughed. Too hard. If you hadn’t been so caught up in the complete and utter shock you had been experiencing you probably would have been thinking more about how these boys were vampires. Sure, it had been fun to talk about them on forums and on different apps, but suddenly you were hit with an urge to run. Especially before the other half of their gang arrived.

“I’m- I’m just looking for my friends.” You quickly blurted. You started walking, but your brain was on hyper-drive. If this was real, if this was really happening, then you were in a horror movie. And the killers had already taken an interest in you. They quickly started following, staying just as close as they had been before.

“Ooh, are they as pretty as you? We can help you find them.” Paul offered, and you almost wanted to accept. He sounded like he was just trying to be helpful, albeit flirt a little. It was the eighties, so you couldn’t quite blame him for being so persistent. Part of you really wanted to accept, but you reminded yourself. Horror movie. Killers. And they probably wanted to make you apart of the menu. You had only taken a few steps, but the shorter of the two jumped in your path. He walked backwards and said,

“C’mon, you don’t wanna walk alone, right? It’s halloween, and all the weirdos are out.” Marko started, and Paul was quick to waggle his fingers and make a spooky sound to accompany his claim. You faltered. You hadn’t necessarily thought about where you wanted to go, and the parking lot was dark. Far darker than the front of the movie theater. And emptier. You gulped, reminding yourself once again. Horror movie. Killers. You looked between them, trying to think of a way to not end up as a juicebox for the two unfairly attractive vampires in front of you.

You had to admit. You had no idea where you could go, and it wasn’t exactly like you knew what the hell was going on. As far as you were concerned, these were some of the only familiar faces you would find. That, or the Emersons. But you had no idea what time it was in their- what could you call this? Dimension? Or was this just some weird dream? Whatever it was, you had no idea if the Emersons even arrived yet or where to find Grandpa’s house. So, you were shit out of luck. You supplied your name before you quickly added,

“My friends and I- We were going to meet on the boardwalk.” You said, and the boys grinned. You knew it had to be one of their favorite places, since they went there every night. At least that's what the movie made it seem like. Maybe, just maybe, you could get there, let the boardwalk distract them, and figure out what you were going to do. And have some fun with two of the biggest heartthrobs from the eighties.

“Sweet! We can totally take you. We just need to wait for the rest of our friends.” Paul said, and suddenly every last bead of hope slipped from your body. Two vampires already had the odds against you, but all four? Especially one of them being David? You would be screwed! Before you could make something up, Marko said,

“Yeah, here they come.” And you wished that whatever this was would end. That you could go back and be in your own dimension. You turned, seeing a brunette wearing just a leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers. His dark, brooding eyes practically shined in the night, and his resting face made you want to shrink in on yourself. To avoid them, your eyes flicked to the blonde besides him. Blue eyes, scruffy cheeks, and a leather jacket-trenchcoat combo paired with leather pants, boots, and leather gloves? Oh, you were so screwed. If you had any doubt in your mind that this was happening, you were sure now.

As the rest of the vampires approached, you tried to calm your oncoming panic attack with a mantra of it’s just a movie. But now you weren’t so sure.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #david the lost boys #the lost boys david #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys dwayne #marko the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader

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downywrites · 3 years

Text

Bird says take this while they have a lull in motivation. Hope it is enough.

Phil and Quackity are recruited to help Awesamdude with his robot’s aerodynamics. Things do not go as expected.

Phil and Quackity walked through the laboratory’s hallways, listening to the echoes of their footsteps. The cold floors and walls made the two of them shiver and shift closer together in their gaits. As they walked, the sound of whirring robots and whizzing wheels made the two avians calm down a bit, but not by much. A few days ago, they had been asked to come to this area via an anonymous note sent from Ghostbur. When the duo questioned the spectre, however, the man simply shrugged, inching away slowly from them. In other words, they were completely and utterly in the dark, literally and figuratively.

Philza, being the warrior and veteran that he is, worried about what the note could possibly mean, heart racing like the hooves of his eldest son’s prize horse pounding on the snow nearby their house. Quackity was equally nervous, but for completely different reasons. He knew he had been misbehaving on the server lately, causing mayhem and ire amongst the people. This fact, coupled with the fact that the leaders of the country had met up a week or so earlier, made him fluff his wings up in a weak defense. He quacked quietly in his nervousness, before slapping a hand over his mouth, eyes darting to his companion in habitual nervousness. Phil simply smiled (weakly) at the duck hybrid, chirping quietly in response. He knew that the two of them were extremely nervous as to what may lay before them, but he certainly didn’t want the other to run off, especially not at night. He knew of the man’s combat skills; they were...weaker than the average person here. He would prefer not to have the other avian’s death on his hands, not if he could help it.

So, with that in mind, he gently wrapped his talons around his hand, squeezing gently as they walked. He squeezed back, half in relief and half in renewed stress. Rounding the corner of the hall, they both startled at the silhouette of a creeper in the room, the four legged monster trotting towards them slowly. They backed off, instinctually trilling and spreading their wings in alarm. “Oho, no-” “Shit! Oh fuck!”

“Guys, don’t get your feathers all in a fluff. It’s just me.” As the creeper moved forward into their sights a little, they could see the telltale welding mask on the hybrid’s head. Oh, it’s just Sam. Holy shit, that man is scary as fuck in the dark. The two sighed in relief, one of them sagging onto the floor dramatically, the other placing his hand on his chest with as much flair as an old eagle like him could muster (which was not much). “Ah, Sam. It was you, then?” He nodded, turning on the lights in the area fully.

As the redstone lamps flared to life, casting a coppery, warm glow on the room, the two men got to see the full glory of the area they were brought into. The testing site, if one could call it that, was full of many different contraptions, most of which looked like unfinished robots and pieces of redstone equipment. Things dangled here and there, looking like a hodgepodge of different items and tools, but Sam maneuvered through it with ease, flipping switches and messing with circuitry as he went. He started to ramble quietly in excitement. “So, you guys really did come. I thought you’d never show up! You see, I needed you to help me with my aerodynamics stuff. I just can’t seem to get the idea of flapping wings well enough for me to make a functioning machine. So, I decided to ask you two!”

Quackity tilted his head. “As in, you anonymously send the two of us a message and don’t give us any details? Compadre, who do you think I am? An idiot?” He stopped for a moment to laugh at himself, before sobering a little and continuing. “Look, man. I understand your stuff is real useful and all that. But next time, just ask us, yeah?” Phil bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah, mate. It would be a little more comforting for us to know what we’re getting into.” The creeper hybrid paused in his tinkering, before retorting back, “Well, I don’t think you two would be willing to help me otherwise.” He snapped his fingers. Two robots, hidden among the flotsam of machinery and parts, whirred to life, redstone parts creaking a little from the sudden movement. Quick as a flash, they extended their arms, trapping the arms of the duo firmly.

Quackity screeched in surprise, flapping his wings and flailing in its grasp. Squawking loudly in shock, Philza moved similarly, struggling to get the machine’s arms off of him. Noticing that the eagle hybrid was stronger than anticipated, the robot extended a few more arms and attached them to his shoulders and wrists, attempting to stop him from escaping. Phil narrowed his eyes at the engineer, growling lowly in his throat. “What kind of trick are you playing on us right now? You little…” The other held up a clawed hand, hushing the already irate man. “Please calm down, Philza. I am not here to play games. No, I need you to help me test aerodynamics.” He motioned to the robots, which began to push the two closer to him. “And the things I need testing for are things that you wouldn’t give me consent...verbally.” He stepped aside, allowing the mechanical creations to push them onto two different interrogation tables face down. Securing them quickly, they tested to make sure the two were tightly secured before moving backwards. They looked to their maker, searching for orders. The creeper waved them off, watching the two avians struggle in their bonds and curse at him. “I know that both of you have your pride, your hubris, even, fully fledged on this server.” He backtracked a little. “Make that one of you. I’ve never heard you brag, Philza. But, you see, what I must do is test how your feathers work together. That is a feat that requires me to.. Well…”

He walked up to Quackity, clawed feet tapping on the floor. He dragged his fingers through the down of his wings, feeling them twitch and spasm. The owner of the wings giggled through his teeth. “C-cuhuhut it out, bihihitch!” “Touch your feathers, like this.” He ignored the duck’s insult, using one of his claws to gently extend the entire wing. He looked over it admiringly. “Such beautifully golden feathers you have. They seem to sparkle in the light of the lamps.” Quackity squeaked, blushing from the compliment. His wing twitched in the engineer’s claws, making Sam grin wickedly. “I wonder how sensitive they are..” He trailed off, tracing his hand over the length of the duck’s wing. The beanie-wearing hybrid bit his lip, trying his utmost to stymie the giggles and snorts that bubbled up in his throat. “You’ve quieted down. Is that really all it takes to silence you, little duckling?” His feathers fluffed up in anger in his grasp. The duck turned his head, opening his mouth to insult him, but a few giggles escaped his mouth instead. Heat flooded his cheeks, a small, embarrassed quack punctuating his head movement back.

Sam snorted, teasing the smaller hybrid in hopes of making him as flustered as humanly possible before he did anything else. “Aw, did little ducky just giggle and quack? That’s so cute… And I thought you were such a big baddie!” He scratched gently at the crook of the captured wing, listening to the man’s choked laughter and full-body shiver. “I wonder how much teasing you can take before you give in to the feeling of my claws on your soft, sensitive little wings..”

Quackity clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, more heat flooding his cheeks from his words. He shook his head, hair fluffing a bit, in lieu of his normal mouthing off. He certainly couldn’t trust his vocalizations, not when he was trying to reduce the sounds that were threatening to spill from his mouth at the light sensations on his wings. “No? What are you saying no to? The idea of you giving in? Or are you saying no to the tickles?”

At the mention of the word, the hybrid squeaked and giggled, squirming a little on the table. The creeper raised an eyebrow (or, what seemed to be his eyebrow. He was a creeper, after all) at the reactions he got from the word. “Can you not handle me using the word? Can you not handle me saying tickle?” Another bout of giggling came from the duck. “Aww, cutie! Tickle, tickle tickle!” As he said this, he dug his claws into the crook of his wing, raking downwards through the golden coverts. Unable to hold it back any longer, Quackity burst into laughter, squirming in Sam’s hold. “Ohohoho, nohohoho! Dohohon’t sahahay ihihit!” He ducked his head, trying to hide his mortification.

Philza, looking on at the spectacle, shivered a little at the sight of the other avian getting wrecked like that. He knew that he was a lot hardier than the comedian, but the way the creeper managed to make the poor guy laugh that loud so quickly… He shook his head, folding his wings in as much as he could. He vowed that, when it was his turn on the chopping block, he would hold out for as long as his pride would allow. He turned his head as much as he could, trying to make out what the man was doing to the golden-winged hybrid. Quackity’s laughter was getting more and more frantic as the creeper continued to scratch all over his wing. “Plehehehehease, amhihihigohoho! Stohohohop!” Sam ignored him pointedly. “So, I wonder where’s your hotspot here? Could it be..here?” He moved closer to the area where his wings met his back, hoping to get a better reaction.

Through his laughter, the duck managed to get out one of his signature snarky quips. “Yeheheah, fuhuhuck yohohou, yohohou lihihittle shihihithead.” Groaning quietly, the man moved away from the area in disappointment. “Well then. It looks like I’ll need to keep searching.” Letting his hands wander over the fluffy feathers, he noted any little jerks and twitches from the man underneath him. After a few seconds of quiet touching and gentle rubbing here and there, he quickly dug his hands into the duck’s wings, raking down roughly. The reaction was instantaneous. Squealing in surprise, the man burst into frantic laughter, wings shaking and twitching violently in his claws. “...ehehehEEAHAHAHA- SAHAHAHAM, NOHOHOHOHO!”

“Do you like this, little duckie? I think you do~” The engineer sing-songed, making sure he touched the lower areas of down with each rake. Quackity did not like that nickname, not at all. The poor man quaked and jerked at his bonds, trying to escape. “PLEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOHAHA! STOHOHOP, STOHOHOP!” He sounded genuinely scared, almost as if he… Did he actually want him to stop?

Sam slowed down his raking, genuinely concerned for the other. He stroked gently at the man’s wing, releasing it from his grasp and watching him tuck it away, shaking a little. “A-are you alright? Did I hurt you? I was only playing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Didn’t mean….” He muttered under his breath, anxiety flashing in his eyes. His predatory aura had fully evaporated, leaving the soft, rather snuggly looking creeper hybrid, but the duck wasn’t paying attention to that, focusing on calming down and explaining the situation to the other two.

Quackity exhaled shakily, nodding a little. “I-Ihi’m fine. It’s just.. The nickname...not that one, please...It reminds me of...what happened a while ago.” Phil spoke up from beside him, anger seeping into his voice like a poison potion into an arrowtip. “Who did it?” The other two turned to look at him. “What?” The eagle hybrid straightened, wings spreading out automatically. “I said..” He turned towards Quackity, eyes flashing with rage underneath his bucket hat. “Who did this to you?”

Quackity squeaked in fear, curling in as much as he could. Sam stroked his wings gently, trying to comfort the man. “Was it Schlatt? I’ll kill that ram, if that’s-” “No, it wasn’t him!” Phil refocused on him, surprise evident and scrawled all over his face. “What? Then who-” “It was just some random dude? Okay? Different server. You wouldn’t know him. He just..” He shifted, obviously uncomfortable. The creeper continued to pet and stroke his wings, murmuring comforting words into his ears. “I’m so sorry, dude...I didn’t know..So sorry..” Phil looked on, stretching his wing out to pat the man’s head. Quackity quacked happily at the petting, pushing his wings into the redstone user’s hand. The three of them sat there, in the silence of the lab.

As they basked in each other’s presence, the golden-winged hybrid relaxed more and more, until he had calmed down enough to open his mouth again. He spoke shakily, emotions clogging his throat. “T-thanks.” Sam untied the two of them, sighing in relief as he did. Once the two avians had been released, they sat up, rubbing their wrists a little. Phil nodded at the creeper, smiling crookedly. Sam stepped back from the man, closing his eyes and bracing for a possible attack. He curled in on himself, arms up and ready to protect his vital areas. When no such attack came, he opened one eye to see the green-clad avian cup his face gently. “Mate, we’re not mad. You didn’t hurt us. You just scared us a little, that’s all.” He whimpered a bit, worried look deepening at the words. “B-but, I-I..”

Phil scratched underneath the man’s chin. “No, mate. You’re fine.” He purred quietly, tail wagging behind him gently. He pulled his hands away, getting a small disappointed whine from the engineer. Turning to Quackity, the warrior turned his head quizzically and wiggled his fingers suggestively, causing the duck hybrid to squeak and turn away. “Still in a lee mood, I see. So, Sam? Want to do that again?” Sam looked at him with confusion. “Again? As in, him being tied down?” Phil cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. “Just him?” The creeper (finally) put two and two together, perking up in happiness. He grinned, ears twitching in excitement.

“So, both of you? Are you two good with that?” His voice betrayed the excitement that he felt, not that he was hiding it very effectively. Being alone in a workshop most of the time makes it hard for him to hide his emotions well. After all, if you’re super used to talking with robots all the time, do you really need to hide your emotions? Tail wagging happily, he gently tied the two of them down again, checking to make sure that both of them were okay with what was going to happen first. He spoke to them in hushed tones, voice so soft that it failed to echo in the walls of the lab. Once they were both comfortable, he moved in between the two of them, rubbing gently at the base of their wings.

He felt Philza jerk underneath him, shaking in muffled laughter. He raised his eyebrow at that. He’d heard that he was really ticklish on his back, but he didn’t think he was that ticklish. Then again, he was waiting in anticipation for quite a while, so maybe that could have been a factor? None of that. These were people, they can’t be left to wait like this. He traced circles into the hardcore warrior’s back, relishing in the little audible hiccupy giggles that came from the eagle.

Quackity giggled lightly as well, pushing his back into the feeling. “Ehehehe, Sahaham..” “Yes, Quackers?” “Fahahaster, plehehease?” He nodded, moving from his original rubbing to gently scratching over the duck’s back. He quacked and giggled, squirming in joy on the table. Philza smiled internally at the sight. So cute… Sam refocused on the warrior, increasing the pace on him suddenly to catch him by surprise. He scratched roughly at his shoulderblades, moving close to the base of his wings. The man arched his back, cackling loudly. “Ohohohoho shihihihit! Whahahaha- *hic* Nohohoho!”

Sam scribbled all over the man’s back, dragging his claws all over his melt spot. Phil went limp, bucking in his restraints when he gained the energy to. The feeling of claws on the sensitive line of down at the base of his wings made him screech. The feeling of helplessness was almost unbearable for the eagle. He was used to the freedom of the skies, of the expanse of air that extended far beyond any player could ever build. He was never fully accustomed to being inside a house, much less a pair of restraints. And yet, here he was, strapped onto a table after he asked for it.

Phil spread his wings, flapping them in ticklish agony. Tears sprung to his eyes as he felt rough claws scratch ruthlessly at his death spots. Quackity sat and watched in fascination. Schlatt used to tickle his wings ruthlessly, leaving him panting and dazed in his wake, but he’s never been able to see another avian get wrecked. He shivered in empathy as Sam dug his claws into the most sensitive parts of Phil’s wings, giggling from the feeling of anticipation fluttering in his belly and squirming on the table, warm from his body heat. Curling in on himself a little, he covered as much of himself as he could with his wings.

At this point, Phil was limp in Sam’s grasp, wings hanging almost lifelessly from the table. His glazed eyes flicked to Sam, portraying exactly how tuckered out he was from the relentless tickling. The creeper wagged his tail behind him, proud of how wrecked the poor avian looked. “Did I do good?” His excited voice made both of the bird-men smile, although Philza couldn’t hold it for very long before he simply laid his head back on the table, panting and giggling quietly. After a few seconds, Phil piped up, voice wobbly and exhausted. “Yeheheah, mate. You did good.” The sound of his praise was a little muffled, but Sam beamed anyways, little feet claws tapping the ground in happiness.

He moved over to Quackity’s table again, hissing playfully at the duck. He squeaked and hid in his wings, giggling good-naturedly. The creeper placed his hands on the man, gently sliding his hands up and down his back, deciding to be more soft to the smaller. Quackity melted into the soft touch, trilling quietly and wiggling in delight. The other two awwed internally at the sight. The eagle trilled at the duck, communicating in bird-speak so the engineer couldn’t understand nor translate their conversation.

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah, I like this!’

The two exchanged glances, looking at one another with new warmth and amicability, before Quackity yelped and turned away from him, scrunching his eyes closed. Phil turned his head as much as he could to see Sam, straining to see what he did to elicit such a reaction. Sam, focused on his prey, did not notice the eagle hybrid’s scrutinizing gaze. He scratched at Quackity’s sides again, tasering him a little more to get an even more pronounced reaction. The duck dissolved into squeaky, quack-filled laughter. He tried his best to stay still for the engineer, flapping his wings instead.

At one point, one of his wings accidentally rubbed under the creeper’s chin, eliciting a loud, hissing purr. Quackity snorted, teasing him in his typical fashion. “Really, amigo? That’s all it takes to make you purr? Wow, I- ahaAHAHAHA, IHIHI’M SOHOHORRY!” Sam shook his head, playfulness leaking into his voice. “I was going easy on you, but I guess you don’t want that. Fine with me~” He squeezed and kneaded his sides and hips, relishing in the sudden renewed struggling of his quarry. He acted as if he was molding clay, varying the intensity and the speed at which he moved to keep the duck guessing (and writhing on the table). When he kneaded his hips at a certain area, the man squeaked through his laughter, going almost fully limp on the table.

Grinning, the redstone user kneaded it again, feeling the resulting jolt travel through his hands and into his arms. “Good spot?” He nodded, trilling and quacking in his mirth. Sam rubbed and squeezed at the spot for a little longer, enjoying the reaction he got from the other, before deciding to be a little devious. He tucked his claws underneath the man’s belly, smiling as he sucked in his tummy and tried to move away from him. “Nohoho, amihihigo! Nohohohot thehehere!”

“Not there, you say? I would listen to you, but..” He trailed off, poking at his tum with a singular claw. “..I’m not sure you’re a trustworthy source. I’ll need to find out for myself, hmm?” His tone shifted a little, predatory growl growing in his chest.

He traced shapes onto the man’s trembling tummy. Quackity’s nervous giggles and laughter increased in pitch as he moved closer and closer to his navel. He wanted to squirm, to move away, but, as he realized, he had trapped himself into an even more helpless position than before. In order for him to not fall back onto Sam’s claw (and probably make him accidentally insert his finger into his quivering navel), he had to keep himself in the position he was in, forcing himself to hold himself up, even as he begged the creeper to stop teasing, to stop messing with him and just do it..

The other smirked, noticing his predicament himself. “What’s the matter, Quackity? Is it too hard to keep yourself up? It must be. After all, I think a little duckling like you would be oh-so sensitive on their little, itty bitty tum..” He scratched just outside of the man’s navel, teasing the rim. Quackity’s strength began to flag, body getting shakier and shakier as his muscles spasmed and twitched. He shook his head as much as he dared. “Nohohohoho, plehehehease! Sahahaham!”

He uncurled another one of his fingers, using two claws to scratch right above and below it, knowing that he couldn’t hold the position for much longer. He dug in a little, trying to get the man to crack. And crack he did. Collapsing into the man’s hand, he shrieked as the creeper angled them to dig into his navel. He wiggled them wildly, making the poor duck burst into raucous laughter. Tears pricked at his eyes, before spilling over and rolling down his face. “SAHAHAHAM! OHOHOHOHO MIHIHIHIY GOHOHOHOD!”

“Your god? I’m a creeper. What gods do I follow? I’m not afraid of any god, not on this server.” Sam sported a shit-eating grin to match his words. He leaned down a little so he could nuzzle his fluffy chin on his back, feeling the duck jolt from the extra stimulation. He continued tickling him at a brutal pace, making sure the man was fully wrecked, before slowing down his scratching and wiggling.

He extracted his hand carefully from its place in between the table and the man’s tummy, shaking it out a little. Gliding his hands over his back again, he rubbed gentle circles into his back as he caught his breath. He began to untie him, slipping the rope ends out of their knots with great care, making sure the duck hadn’t been injured while flailing or struggling.

Once he was finished untying him, he helped flip the tired avian over, grabbing his arms and pulling him up. Quackity looked into his eyes, gratitude swimming in his dark-hued eyes. Sam cocked his head, smiling at him. His ears flicked happily as he turned to Phil, helping him out of his bonds as well. Phil sat up, tucking his wings in and fluffing his feathers a few times. He grinned at the other two, before hopping off the table with a small thud. “So, Sam. Did you get all the info you need?”

He shook his head no, giggling lightly. “Nah.” He glanced at the tables, then at Phil. “Mind coming back around another time?” Phil nodded, gently scooping up Quackity and walking out, sandals making a clacking noise as he went. The duck protested, squirming lightly in his grasp, but made no move to escape. He looked up at the man, blushing a little from the embarrassment. “Y-you don’t have to do this, you know.” Philza paid him no heed, walking out of the hallway as quickly as he could. He took off, midnight-colored wings flashing in the pastel sky. Once they were safely in the air, he looked at the younger, smirking widely.

“Remember when you said you wanted to learn how to actually fly?”

He paled, making a (rather hilarious) face of fear. “Y-yeah? Don’t tell me-”

“It’s time~” The larger avian singsonged, positioning them above a large body of water. “Don’t worry, mate. If you don’t end up actually flying, you’ll just land in the water. See? You’ll be fine.”

He squeaked in fear, looking down at the actually rather small-looking area of blue. “B-but, we just got wrecked by Sam...I-isn’t that unsafe?”

“If you can’t do it when you’re like this, you can’t do it when you really need to fly, Quackers!” His grip loosened, making the man grip onto his clothes a little harder. “W-wait-”

“Bombs away! Have fun!” Less than a second later, Quackity found himself free-falling through the air. Sam looked on with a telescope, snorting at the small figure flailing in the air. He watched it splash into the lake with a small wince, before shrugging a little and sheathing his telescope. “Guess he ain’t that aerodynamic. Well, looks like I’ll need to remake one of my robots. Drat.” He mumbled to himself, shuffling back into the comforting darkness of his lab. “Guess I’ll just have to use Phil’s data.” As he mumbled, he failed to notice the sound of fabric rustling, nor the slight twang of a guitar whacking against the wall. No, the only thing he managed to notice was the sudden feeling of arms around his human-like midsection, spidering at his sides.

“Revenge.”

He turned his head to see the faint outline of a similar beanie-wearing musician. “I can explain-” “Explain why I heard my father’s laughter? No, I know what you did.” He floated a little closer, getting a bit close for comfort for the creeper. “The question is, are you ready to pay the price for my services?” Sam shivered, closing his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, I am- whahaHA?”

“You’re not getting the last word, you little green lee!”

“Whahahat ahahare yohohou tahahalking abohohout? Lahahast wohohord whehere?”

“...Nevermind.”

#ler!sam #dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #my writing #downywrites #lee!philza #lee!quackity #sfw tickling

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amphxtrite · 3 years

Text

draco malfoy x fem!reader

part two: a wordless promise

warning: Angst

summary: song fic loosely based off Isak Danielson’s song Broken

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic so sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, hope you like it :)

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Do you need, do you need someone?

Are you scared of what's to come?

If you leave then who will the next one be?

Will he do the same or will he let you see

��y/n, I’m breaking up with you.”

your heart stops, you can feel the tears welling in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall just yet.

“Draco.” you start, “w-what did I do wrong?” you curse yourself for stuttering, but the words just won’t come out properly.

“I- I don’t think this is working y/n. We can’t be together when you’re a filthy, useless half-blood.” he spits

Draco’s face remains stoic and cruel, but on the inside he’s breaking down. He doesn’t want to do this, but he won’t let Voldemort or any of his vile followers put a target in your back for being in a relationship with him. He won’t put you in that kind of danger.

“you-you don’t mean that. Draco.” you cry out pain written on all your features. “I love you, you said you didn’t care I was a half-blood! I need you please, please don’t break up with me.” your voice is reduced to a gentle plea. The tears have flown free now, cascading down your face, you can taste the salty tears, but it’s the least of your worries right now.

Draco’s heart tightens in his chest, you were right, he doesn’t care your blood status, he never really did, half of him wants to take it all back, tell you the truth and rush back into your arms. His other half knows this isn’t a possibility, that you’d die staying with him. You didn’t deserve a man like him.

“people change.” he states plainly, before turning on his heel and walking away from you as fast as he could. He can feel his own tears begin to well in his eyes, but doesn’t let them fall, he breaks into a run when he knows you can’t see him and rushes into the castle and into an empty classroom. He breaks down. Let’s all the feelings of regret and sadness take over him as he sits, rocking himself back and forth, silently cursing himself for this.

When Draco is no longer in your field of sight you fall to your knees in the wet grass beneath you.

“this, this isn’t real.” you murmur to yourself.

No, you’re going to wake up any second now and your love will be there with his arms wide open to hold you, tell you it was just a nightmare, that he would never leave your side.

you needed him, he was your light in the darkness, your reminder that you were safe and loved, the one who would hold you close when you were scared, hold your hand while you walked to classes, and make sure you were eating when you were studying too hard.

You never woke up from this nightmare, no, this was real. Draco was really gone... your love had left you.

That you don't have to hurt, you don't have to hurt anymore?

With a little time, take a look and find what you're searching for

It had been exactly a month since the day Draco had broken up with you.

It was hard to eat, hard to sleep, or focus on your studies and you became a shell of the person you used to be.

Your h/c hair no longer shined

Your skin seemed to sag and you had grown accustomed to the dark circles under your eyes.

Your uniform seemed to hang very loosely against your form.

It was very obvious to everyone around you that you were not taking the break up well. And your best friend Hermione was trying her best to try and help you.

“c’mon y/n, just take a few bites of your sandwich you haven’t eaten a full meal in weeks!” she whisper shouts to you at dinner.

you simply nod your head at her comment and nibble a bit at your corner of the bread.

Hermione was worried. She knew that you loved Draco with your entire being and that not being with him was taking a toll on you. She wanted her happy best friend back, but she had no idea what to do. Draco seemed to always be avoiding you and Hermione almost never saw him. It had gotten to the point Harry hadn’t been approached by Malfoy’s snide comments once in the month he had broken up with you. She decided to take a different approach to try and get you happy again.

“hey y/n, how about we go to hogsmeade tomorrow, for a butterbear and some sweets from Honeydukes, hm?” she suggests with a smile, she knew her best friends weakness for sweets and decided it would be a good to use to her advantage to help.

“sounds good ‘mione.” you say with a small smile. You were thankful for your best friend’s attempt at making you smile, but really you wanted to just climb into you comfy-bed and wallow in your sadness.

“Good! I’ve got to go, but i’ll meet you tomorrow in the courtyard okay?”

“see you then.” you respond, taking a couple more sips of your pumpkin juice before leaving.

You head back to the y/h common room and head up to the girls dormitory thinking, maybe this was a good thing going out again, having fun. This could be your first step forwards to trying to recover, but a little voice at the back of your head told you that wasn’t going to happen.

You are broken on the floor

And you're crying, crying

He has done this all before

But you're lying, lying

To yourself, that he'll find help

That he will change to someone else

But you're broken on the floor

Still, asking him for more

Draco had tried to break up with you once before, like this time he was scared that you being with him would only hurt you and he couldn’t let that happen, it scared him greatly. He tried to bring himself to do it but only a few seconds after the words tumbled out of his mouth, he started to tear up at the look of hurt on your face and apologized, taking it back and gathering you into his arms, whispering i love you’s in your ear and drying the tears that had just begun to flow.

That was the dream that clouded your mind as you woke up the next morning, Draco apologizing to you for almost leaving, and pulling you in to him, muttering in between kisses that he was sorry and didn’t mean it. you reached up and brushed your lips with your fingers, it was like you could still feel his soft lips on yours, the thought brought even more pain to your heart and you quickly brushed away the thought. You opted for a quick shower before getting ready to hang out with Hermione. Letting the hot water run over your body, you focus on the feeling of how nice the water feels, simply standing there, you realize how long it’s been since you really focused on yourself and your needs. Quickly turning off the shower, and toweling down, you grab your outfit and get dressed, you put on your black track pants, a grey sweatshirt and pull on your coat and a scarf. Slipping your shoes on, you grab your bag and leave.

“Hey ‘Mione!” you shout at the curly haired girl as you enter the courtyard.

“y/n/n!” she runs over to you and wraps you in a hug. She’s glad some of the colour has returned to your skin and your smile is a bit wider.

The duo is soon greeted by Ron and Harry as they make their way to Filch, the boys are cracking jokes and talking about quidditch and when their forms are checked, they’re off.

As you walk through the beautiful village you can’t help but think back to the times Draco and you would come to spend time together, drinking butterbeer and him spoiling you with sweets at Honeydukes, a small smile plays at your lips.

Hermione starts to drag you towards a shop as you finally snap out of your thoughts.

“let’s go y/n! Ronald and Harry are already in the shop!” she laughs as the two of you. rush into the familiar store. You stop for a second to breathe in the intoxicating smell of chocolate and candy, and then you’re rushing around the shops, the golden trio by your side.

“Merlin, there’s so many options.” you breathe out.

“You can’t go wrong with the classics though.” smiles Ron as he throws you a chocolate frog.

“A man of good taste.” you agree and continue to look around to find something new to try.

As you reach out for some kind of taffy that will change your voice, a familiar glint of platinum blonde hair catches your eye, you turn to see the familiar slytherin boy grabbing a couple chocolate frogs, looking lost. You must have been imagining it but Draco looked as bad as you did. His blonde hair was drooping in front of his eyes, his skin was almost a sickly yellow colour, and you could see the dark circles that hung under his beautiful eyes.

You don't have to hurt anymore

your lips turn up at the sight of his eyes lighting up at the chocolate, your thoughts flash black to a day long ago, lying in his 4-poster bed.

“Draco that’s your fourth chocolate frog, is it healthy to be eating that much?” you questioned with a laugh.

He looked at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Well, I guess not love, but how can you resist the perfect chocolate taste.” He says slightly airily. Snuggling you closer to his chest.

“I guess you have a point darling.” you sigh, perfectly comfortable in his arms.

“You know what love? I think I love chocolate almost as much as I love you.”

you put your hand up to your chest in mock offence.

“I said almost!” he laughs wrapping his arms around he securely and kissing the top of your head.

Before Draco could catch you staring, you quickly grab the taffy and meet up with the rest of the gang.

Little did you know Draco had also seen you and while you were daydreaming he glanced at you and felt his heart break when he knew you weren’t there with him.

Will you leave or will you carry on?

Is your love from before still strong?

If you leave, will you keep the memory

That made the night so long, that cut so deep?

Paying for your sweets and heading back out into the crisp fall air you let your thoughts run wild. You missed Draco so much, you knew this feeling wouldn’t leave you, you’d be in love with the slytherin till your last breath. Though as much as you loved him, you couldn’t help but wonder, what would your life look like if you did move on? Would you meet someone else? fall in love with them? The thought felt foreign to you and you pushed it away.

The Golden Trio began to head over to The Three Broomsticks for some butter beers, but you decided to excuse yourself and head back to the castle.

“Are you sure y/n?” Hermione questioned.

“Yeah,” continued Harry, “it’ll be fun, besides it still to early to head back”

You smiled at the group.

“I’m sure, you guys go ahead i’ll see you back at the castle.”

Hermione seemed hesitant, she didn’t want to just leave her best friend alone, but the look in y/n’s eyes made her realize she just wanted some time for herself so she nodded her head and followed the boys into the pub.

grateful for your three friend’s understanding, you start to take the trek back to the castle.

You don't have to hurt, you don't have to hurt anymore

With a little time, take a look and find what you're searching for

breathing in the evening air you continue to think to yourself.

Draco was your one, your person, the only man for you. You could never see yourself give that love up. You were deeply head over heels for the blonde boy, even if the words he spoke cut deep.

The words “filthy half-blood” seemed to cut into your soul, making your stomach feel weak. No matter how hard you tried to push those words out of your memories by remembering all the good times, your head seems to give you a harsh reality check.

You didn’t even realize the tears on your cheeks until you felt a gentle wind blow against your face. Deep inside you was the hope that Draco hadn’t meant what he said and that there was a good reason for trying to distance himself from you.

You held onto that hope, held it tightly in your arms, the hope that one day your prince would return to you, when he was ready, when the stars would align and show him that the love he had tried to leave behind was still there waiting, with their arms wide and a smile on their face.

#draco x reader #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy #angst #draco x y/n #hermione granger #draco imagine #draco angst #imagines #fanfic #harry potter

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (7/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of past trauma, fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Y/N is doing everything in her power to get back to normal and recover. However, when Dawn goes missing, she’s stuck having to ask the one person she knows can help (though she hates to admit it).

Masterlist

Sitting on the floor of the living room, I place each healing crystal ranging from rose quartz to jade neatly in a circle around me. The strong scents of peppermint and lavender fill my senses as the oils radiate from my anointed hands. These elements will help me heal both physically and mentally. It will be a tedious process, but I hope that I’ll eventually be as strong and powerful as I was previously. Closing my eyes, I do my best to focus and internalize my thoughts. Every part of healing is internalized. I have to channel the healing power from these elements and transfer them to myself.

As I sit in silence meditating, I start to hear a faint buzzing sound. This is good, it means the spell is working. I’ll have to do this each day for a certain amount of time until I feel recovered.

The front door creaks open, distracting me for a second. I return my attention back to my task. If I slip, I’ll have to start over. Besides, it’s probably just Dawn getting home from school. She insisted on walking home today and I didn’t put up a fight. The girl has been through enough already and could use some space to breathe.

“Dawn?”

I hear Joyce traveling down the stairs to greet her youngest in the foyer.

“No, it’s me,” Buffy replies.

My eyes snap open and the crystals that were floatings around me fall to the wood floor with scattered thuds.

“But where’s Dawn?! Is she with you?!” Joyce rushes out, already panicked.

“She isn’t home yet?!” Buffy questions.

“No!” Joyce frets.

I gather my belongings together and set them aside, no healing today for me. It’s alright, I can survive another day all off-balanced, what else is new. I join Joyce and Buffy in the foyer, reaching for my jacket on the hook. The two of them turn to me.

“Where are you going?” Buffy questions.

“Going to go find Dawn,” I explain plainly, slipping on my leather jacket.

“But you’re still recovering,” Joyce ever so kindly reminds me.

Someone has to go find Dawn and these two are just standing here going back and forth.

“Someone has to do it,” I remark, sounding unintentionally snarky.

“Use a tracking spell!” Buffy suggests as if I haven’t already thought of that.

“I’m too weak. My intuition, along with everything else, is all out of wack,” I grumble, annoyed with my useless state.

“Then I’m coming with,” Buffy declares, already setting down her things from school.

“Peachy,” I mutter, already heading out the door. “You take the north side of town and I’ll take the south,” I instruct Buffy on the way to my car. “Call Willow to have her be on the lookout. I’ll check in with Xander and Anya, Dawnie may have gone over there.”

Buffy grabs my forearm, stopping me on the sidewalk in front of her house. “Why didn’t you pick her up from school today?!”

I raise my brows at her, the audacity of this girl. Is she seriously trying to accuse me of something? Who was the one who saved Dawnie’s ass last week and nearly lost my mind because of it?

I pull my keys out of my pocket and unlock my car with a snicker. “Don’t start with me, Buffy,” I warn her with a dismissive grin. “Let’s just find your sister.”

She releases my wrist and I jog to the driver’s side of my car. Climbing in, I immediately turn on my radio, blasting alternative rock. Buffy runs down the sidewalk, heading north. Geez, I was right. The sooner I can get out of this town and save everyone’s ass, the better.

___________________________________

As the sun starts setting, I’m running out of places to check. Xander and Anya haven’t seen Dawn all day. The achy feeling in my gut is growing with each passing minute. Dammit, why didn’t I just pick her up from school?! I slap my hands against the wheel of my car, screaming at the top of my lungs. If Dawn is fucking hurt, it’s going to be my fault and everything is already my fault! First, I go and get my head scrambled like damn eggs by Glory. Then, I fuck things up with Spike which were already pretty fucked up already now that I think about it. Finally, it’s my fault that Dawn is missing!

Wait, Spike! He’s the last person I feel like seeing right now, but he might be able to help! After the other day, when he said what he did and Buffy came in, he ran off. He never came back. Oh screw it! Ignoring the laws of the road entirely, I do an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road, whipping back in the direction of the cemetery. I guess I’m making a late visit to Bleach Head.

_____________________________________

Without invitation, I barge into Spike’s crypt. I’ve never actually been here before, never having the pleasure of a visit. However, Buffy’s told me a million times about it, so it wasn’t hard to find.

“Spike!” I shout for the peroxide crazed vampy. “Dawn’s missing, I need-”

I halt, my eyes land on Spike and Dawn sitting across from one another on a casket vault. What the actual hell? Spike’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as I slowly approach the duo.

“Y/N!” Dawnie squeals with excitement. “Spike was just telling me the most intense story!”

My eyes remain on Spikes as I stand beside my young cousin. “Is that so? What about?”

“Oh it was nothing,” Spike is quick to hurry along with the conversation.

“It’s so suspenseful!” Dawn gushes.

“I don’t think Y/N cares to-”

She interrupts Spike, continuing to ramble. My attention fades as I look to Spike for some real answers. I haven’t seen him in a few days. He looks like shit. Well, he’s still gorgeous, but a little... well... undead. Spike nervously avoids my gaze, his eyes flickering between me and Dawn.

“Hey Dawn,” I interrupt her chatter calmly.

She hums, perking up.

“Could you wait for me outside? Your mom and Buffy are losing their shit and I need to get you home,” I explain, finally breaking free of Spike’s gaze to focus on Dawn.

“Oh great! So Buffy is just going to hell at me when I get home?!” She fusses with a whine.

“I’m not the one who decided to visit the cemetery on the way home with calling to let me know first,” I smirk at her with a knowing look.

She hops down from the vault with a huff and slings her back over her shoulder. “At least it was you who found me and not Buffy I guess,” she grumbles.

Abruptly, she grabs my arm in a panic. Why is everyone doing that today? Do I have a sign on my forehead that says ‘please grab me! I love to be touched!

“You’re not going to tell her where I was are you?!” She rushes out.

“You think I want Buffy yelling at me all night?” I sass, looking at her like she has three heads. “No way, you were at Janice’s, deal?”

“Deal,” she smiles and heads to the door. “Bye Spike!”

“Later Nibblet,” he hollers back before directing his attention to me.

“Go wait in the car!” I command. “No running off!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she repeats monotony, shutting the crypt door behind her.

Spike fiddles his rings, his head hanging low. I lean against the vault, crossing my arms over my chest. There’s a painful silence between us. Since the moment we met, there was never silence. When he thought I was Glory, we spoke. Even when we were fighting and arguing there was discussion. I’m unsure of what to say, but I’m certain I hate the silence.

“You’re... you’re very good with her,” he compliments quietly. “Nibblet.”

I swallow hard, finding myself wishing he would just look at me. Instead, he continues to avoid my eyes as he pulls himself a cigarette. I watch quietly as he lights it and takes a smoke.

“You are too,” I return the compliment in a whisper, lacking confidence.

His head slowly rises with surprise written on his features. Evidently, he didn’t expect me to exchange pleasantries. He forgets I’m not my cousin. I didn’t come here to yell at him or be bitter about everything. I’ve seen his memories, I’ve seen the cards he’s been dealt, and I understand. Why would I want to add to that mix? He’s been through enough and has caused enough suffering as it is.

Hesitantly, I approach Spike steadily. He sits uncharacteristically still with his sea-blue eyes locked on me. Slowly, I raise my hand reaching out for his cheek as my eyes search every aspect of his face. He cowers away slightly, avoiding contact for my sake. When I don’t flinch or show any signs of fear of the action, he relaxes. His brows scrunch together in faint confusion. I hover my fingers over my cheekbone, unable to actually touch him. The limitation frustrating me to high heaven. All I want to do is to touch him, feel him, yet I can’t.

My eyes glance back to his, his exquisite sea glass blue eyes. They flicker between my eyes and my lips. Compelled by him, I lean forward at a cautious pace bringing my lips closer to his. Spike hesitates, searching my eyes worriedly for any sign of second thoughts. Considering my hindered and weak state, I can’t blame him. It’s the only way we can touch and I need to touch him. He places his hand on my jacket covered arm, squeezing it gently. Then, he completes the remaining distance between us, pressing his lips to mine.

Closing my eyes, I see bright flashes of white and silver light. They’re bright like fireworks illuminating a dark sky and I feel an immense charge coursing through my body. Pressing my palm to Spike’s chest, I guide him back to rest against the vault. He complies, gripping my waist as I climb on top of him. No different than a rushing wave, it travels through my blood like a golden stream of life. I haven’t had this much energy in me since before Glory’s attack. My weak state is squashed and becomes a distant memory. As if I’m drinking from the Fountain of Youth, I can’t get enough. I lean into the sensation, deepening the kiss, craving more. I surrender to the glorious essence that consumes my body and soul. I let myself go and a jolt shocks me, causing me to break away. Sitting up, I catch my breath.

“Y/N!" Spike shouts my name beneath me.

I snap my head down, meeting his wide-eyed gaze.

"Your eyes,” he gasps, prompting himself up on one arm and holding me with his other. "They're... they're bright blue! Almost white even! Like bolts of lighting are circling in them!"

I blink rapidly and glance down at my hands. Strays of electricity travel between my fingers at random. I feel their charge and warmth. I snicker lightly, the overwhelming sensation makes me feel like I'm floating on a cloud. I've never felt so high and powerful in life. I could part the whole damn Pacific if I wanted to! God, this feels great!

_________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @hexmancia

#spikexreader #spike x buffy #spuffy #spike fanfic #spike #buffy s5 #buffy summers #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs imagine #sirius black imagine #btvs fanfic #fanfic

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mxsmwndr · 4 years

Text

Somebody New

Pairing: Modern!Newt x Reader

Summary: Newt really really loves you, that's obvious. You like him a lot too, which isn't as obvious, but nonetheless true. You're just not sure if a relationship is what you want right now. Hurting Newt is the last thing you want to do to him, but you may not have a choice today.

Terms: (Y/n) is Your Name, (h/l) is hair length, (h/c) is hair color, (G/n) is Guardian/Parent name

Warnings: Angst?

A/N: As requested by @scribblestarsonthecuffsofurjeans . Enjoy!! I used the title from this song, just because it kinda reminded me of it. Once again, bold shows texting back and forth

Disclaimer: I dont own you or Newt or any other TMR characters! Plot is a request!!

Newt laughed with Thomas, slightly leaning into his friend for support. Thomas laughed along, and lazily helped Newt walk.

You gave the duo a funny look, and lightly shut your locker. Walking up to them with your eyebrows furrowed, you asked,

"What's so funny?" You asked, gaining their attention.

"N-nothing." Thomas tried to say between his laughs. Needless to say, he epically failed.

Once again, you furrowed your eyebrows at the two, but let it go with a small giggle. Laughter was contagious. Especially Newt's.

Wait, what?

"Oh, luv!" Newt said to you, suddenly forgetting Thomas's joke. "I've been meaning to ask you about the dance coming up. Would you--"

"(Y/n)!" Teresa's shout echoed through the near-empty hallways. You sent Newt an apologetic look and turned to look at her. Brenda was hot on her heels.

"Mind if we steal her for a sec? Thanks!" She said, her hands resting on your shoulders, not bothering to wait for an answer. She hardly looked at Newt and Thomas before taking you away. So naturally, she hadn't noticed Thomas glaring in her direction.

Newt looked over to Thomas nervously, disappointment written across his face. He sighed and walked away with his head low. However, it didn't look nearly as pathetic as it sounded. Thomas took a few seconds to realize what just happened, but when he did he immeaditely ran over to Newt.

"Wait!" He called. Newt turned to look at his friend,

"Yes?"

"Uh..." Thomas had to think of something quick. He hadn't expected Newt to actually stop. "Do you wanna hang out with Me and Minho tonight?" Nice save! He told himself.

Newt gave him a small smile, which Thomas hoped wasn't forced.

"Maybe," Newt said. "I got homework." He tried.

"It's Friday!" Thomas cheered, ignoring Newt's change of mood. He knew why, everyone did. Newt was deep in love.

With you.

Really, it was quite obvious--the stolen glances, the lovey-dovey sighs, his love for love songs... need I go on? Newt was madly in love, but anyone who saw it would think it's prerry one-sided.

Yet it wasn't.

You tried not to give Newt any hints that you feel the same towards him because you didn't want to hurt him. Newt just took it as 'uninterested' instead.

You weren't, though. You really like him, but you recently got out of a pretty toxic relationship with your ex--which goes unbeknownst to your friends. They (especially Newt) wanted you to break up with you ex (before they became your ex), pointing out that everything they do isn't what a significant other should be doing, but you just took it as them being overprotective friends.

But one day your significant other accidentally slapped you, and you decided to be done for good.

You broke up with them immediately, and left their house. You never thought to turn back and watch their reaction, because knowing them, they probably just shrugged to themself and called a side chick for comfort they didn't need.

Sure, it still hurt you, but it that's how any other person would feel. Even then, your joy outweighed the sadness; you were finally free!

But unfortunately single.

You had honestly never noticed the way Newt stared at you.

Well, okay. 'Honestly' makes it a lie. But you always thought it was a platonic kind of thing. Or that he was worried about your wellbeing (which he is). Never on your life would you have imagined that a cute little blond British boy would be madly in love with you.

And Newt would be lying if he didn't say the same.

He didn't know what it was; maybe because your beautiful (h/l), (h/c) hair never fails to catch his eye when it glistens in the sunlight. Or your very loud (but very adorable) laugh that made everyone around you laugh as well. Maybe it was how you'd mumble sassy remarks under your breath instead. You'd never get caught--even if Newt blew your cover for laughing and got himself in trouble. He also loved your late night conversations about the universe, life, and fate, as well as the secret love you two shared for Disney and Captain America--whatever the reason, Newt loved you dearly, and constantly worried about your life, and tried to make everything perfect for you; how are you? How is school? Is (G/n) giving you a hard time about your grades again? Are your friends okay? Are any of the stupid people in school bothering you? The list never seems to end.

He worried about anything and everything, but he'd never let you know it. Like I said before, he was afraid you'd leave him. He'd be lost without you, and you him.

And your friends were getting sick of it.

"I don't know, man." Newt said to Minho, who just offered Newt to 'step it up' to you. "She just... took off. Maybe she doesn't like me." He said. The sorrowful look from before was back, and it did not seem to be going away any time soon.

"Why don't you just tell her?" Thomas asked suddenly.

It took his friends by surprise. Both Newt and Minho whipped their heads in his direction. Newt with his golden eyes and rosy lips wide like the sun, and Minho with his sly smirk that put the Grinch to shame.

"What?!" Newt asked. He was nudged by Minho teasingly,

"Yeah, Newt." Minho mocked. "Tell 'er how you feel."

Newt sent him a pouty look, as I to say 'are you for real?'. "No way!" He said with a shake of his head. "I'm not that shucked."

Minho raised his eyebrows and bit his tounge to stop the snarky comments from escaping his lips.

Thomas, on the other hand, didn't care. "C'mon man, just do it! It works, trust me!" Newt offered.

Newt looked at him cautiously, "How? Because Teresa broke up with you?"

Newt got him there. "Well, no, but..."

"But (Y/n) will love it, and you love her, so..." Minho interrupted. Thomas sent him a grateful look. "Do it." Minho concluded.

Newt sighed and fixed his backpack, "I... I just don't know. Maybe she doesn't like me. Maybe she..."

"Newt, stop." Thomas said. Minho was stunned at how stern Thomas sounded, but Newt wasn't for some reason.

He was more annoyed than anything.

"No, Tommy," Newt said. His accent thickened with each word he said. "She avoids me. You know that? She doesn't catch me staring like she used to. She has dark bags under her eyes--"

"You don't cause dark bags." Minho interrupted. "Sorry to ruin your pity party, but she still likes you. Just think about it... her ex. Do you remember why we didn't like them?"

Newt nodded his head, and mumbled a "Yeah."

"Good. Why don't you get Sonya to talk to her? Or ask Brenda what's up."

Newt shrugged again, and did as his friends advised.

"I don't know, Newt." Sonya said from the other line. She sounded helpless. Newt hated doing this to her, but he needed to know what he was doing wrong.

"Can you just ask?" He asked. Sonya made a helpless grunt, but decided to stick with it.

"I'll see what I can do." She said. "Bye."

"Bye." Newt said, pushing the red 'end call' button on his phone. He searched his contacts, and found Brenda. He decided to call her, too.

"What's up?" Brenda asked. She sounded bored. More than normal, at least.

"Does (Y/n) actually like me?" Newt asked. He sounded heartbroken, but Brenda knew he could stay strong.

Brenda sighed heavily, "I honestly don't know." She said. "I-I think she does, but she seems to block out every opportunity you get. Sorry, dude." She said.

Newt pressed his lips together, and his tounge against the roof of his mouth--something he learned that keeps you from crying. He tightly squeezed his eyes, but opened them before speaking again.

"S'okay." He responded.

But Brenda knew it wasn't. She could smell the lie from miles away. And it's not that Newt isn't a good liar because he is, it's that he has been hiding his feelings for so long that Brenda has become used to it.

Brenda thought about saying "I know you aren't," but she knew that wouldn't help anything.

Or would it?

"You don't sound like it," Brenda mumbled before she could stop herself.

Newt's forced laugh came from the other end of the phone, "You're right. But I will be... soon." He said.

Brenda's heart slowly broke at Newt's sadness.

She wished that she could figure you out just as much as Newt. If not more.

Your phone buzzed. You looked down to your phone to find that omeone texted you. U ok? A text from Brenda read.

You responded with an immediate Yea

But added: Why?

You furrowed your eyebrows, but moved your attention back to your math homework.

Well, you tried at least.

Do you hate newt? She asked. You were surprised by this question.

Did you hate Newt? No. No way would you ever, but...

No. You didn't love him nor did you hate him.

You just... you typed in 'why' instead.

Bc you never talk anymore Brenda responded.

Not gonna lie and all, this conversation was starting to feel like a punch in the gut to you.

So? You responded. You knew it made you sound like a shank, but you didn't really know how to respond.

Sure, you liked Newt. A lot, actually, but is he worth it? Isn't it just easier to stay guarded and keep it at that? After all, the only person you really have to take care of is yourself.

Right?

Then again, Newt is Newt. He'd never try to hurt you, no matter what happens.

Why do I have to make this decision? You wondered to yourself.

So he likes u

I know You totally were sounding like a shuck-face, but what could you do?

Do u like him

Do you like him? You used to, but do you still? Maybe...

Or are you trying to convince yourself that you don't, instead? That wouldn't surprise you, especially after the nasty breakup with your ex--you've started to learn how to cover up your feelings.

Sure You responded. Who doesn't?

When in doubt, play dumb.

Just not too dumb.

It seems like u dont

Well that was like a stake to the heart.

What?

I dunno but hes upset

Why?

Cause he thinks u dont like him

You paused for a moment, before exiting the chat. You pulled up your speed dial, and decided to call Newt.

"Hello?" He asked. His voice sounded groggy and worn to you. It saddened you to think about him being like this.

Especially if it was because of you.

"Hey," You said. "Are you alright?"

Don't lie to me. Don't lie to me. Don't lie to me. Don't lie--

"Fine."

Shuck no.

"I know you're not," You began. Newt started talking before you could, though.

"Do you? Why? Because Brenda told you?"

You were surprised by his sudden outburst. It actually kind of scared you.

"What?" You asked.

"Whatever, (Y/n). I-I'm sorry. I just... what's going on with us?"

You forced a small smile. And a chuckle. "I don't know--"

"Actually--sorry to interrupted, but--have you been avoiding me?"

Well this is new.

Not.

"Um... no. I..." you sighed. Sometimes, the truth is the best way to go. "I haven't been avoiding you. I... I just broke up with my ex--I know, but I lied--and it's been rough. They... they moved on fairly quickly, but I still haven't... I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Newt responded. He was much calmer now.

"But it's not. I like you, I really do, but--"

"I get it, you're not ready. That's fine, (Y/n). It's... it's a lot better than thinking you're sick of me."

"Oh, I'd never!" You said. "But I lied, and--"

"Relax," Newt said. "I probably would have done the same thing. Do you want to come over?" He asked.

You thought about it for a moment, would you like to come over?

Yes.

"Yeah, I'd love that."

"I'll get the ice cream, you get the chick-flicks?" Newt said with a chuckle.

You giggled. "Sure. See ya in 10!"

"See ya in 10, (Y/n)." Newt responded.

#newt x reader #tmr newt #newt x reader tmr #sad newt #modern au #modern!newt #modern!au #modern tmr #newt #request #tmr x reader #tmr #the maze runner

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ayellowbirds · 6 years

Photo

Keshet Rewatches All of Scooby-Doo, Pt. 12: "Scooby Doo and a Mummy, Too"

("Scooby-Doo, Where Are You", Season 1 Episode 12)

AKA "We Forgot One Universal Monster Last Episode"

The episode opens on a view of a university campus, with the usual spooky musical sting in spite of nothing being visibly eerie... until we cut into a building identified “DEPARTMENT OF ARCHEOLOGY” (sic). Inside, a professor is introducing the gang to the mummified remains of Ankha, an ancient Egyptian ruler who was once “the most feared ruler”—though we’re never given a reason why he was feared. What did he do that was so terrible?

I’ll note that the subtitles spell the name as “Anka”, but the Scooby Doo wiki gives the more standard-looking “Ankha”. As is oddly typical of adults who are not the culprit in a given episode, the Professor is never given a name, though he introduces his colleague as Dr. Najib, who helped bring the mummy over for the university’s replica of Ankha’s tomb.

A middle eastern man with narrow eyes and permanently lowered brow, voiced by Vic Perrin in an almost exact duplicate of his portrayal of Jonny Quest villain Doctor Zin, Najib raises the subject of the curse of Ankha, relating his hope that it did not follow them. I’ll say it right here, because it’s not much of a spoiler when so many flags are triggered right away: Najib is the culprit, and it’s another example of casual racism this season. The thieving, scheming Arab was a popular villain trope of the day, and while Najib isn’t quite as overt as some other variations on the trope, he’s far from a deconstruction or a subversion.

As Najib makes his exit, the gang agree to help the Professor, and Shaggy lays his filthy mitts on an ancient golden medallion the entire cast identify as a coin in spite of a lack of any evidence that it is currency. As Shaggy manhandles priceless ancient artifacts, the Professor explains it’s part of an unsolved mystery, and suggests the gang pick up some sandwiches on his dollar in order to satisfy Shaggy’s appetite.

While they’re gone, the Professor hears a crash, and comes out to find the mummy gone and a mummy-shaped hole in the glass doors. Meanwhile, Shaggy receives an order of three burgers and three sandwiches—liverwurst, à la mode. The chef spoons bright pink ice cream onto three open-face sandwiches, and Shaggy hands him a dollar bill and a half-dollar coin... that is actually the ancient Egyptian coin!

Shaggy has unconsciously pocketed it, demonstrating kleptomaniac tendencies that are never commented upon. The gang pay properly and Fred suggests they grab the sandwiches and get back to the Professor to return the coin. I’ll note that the food is clearly served on dine-in plates, rather than to-go containers, and when the food is taken from the counter off-screen, it makes a plate-rattling sound. Did they just walk out with burgers and open-faced sandwiches in-hand, sans any kind of container or wrapper?

When the gang return, they find the Professor in his office, where he’s been TURNED TO STONE! “14-karat stone”, Shaggy quips. Velma, bastion of rational, scientific skepticism, observes that only one person could be responsible: the mummy.

The gang look outside and find the busted glass, but Velma notes that it’s broken in rather than out, making it clear this wasn’t an exit. Fred orders the gang to split up and search for the mummy, and Shaggy soon accidentally discovers the bandaged terror hiding in the Janitor’s Closet. Locking him in, Shaggy, Velma, and Scooby flee in terror, instead of doing the reasonable thing and making sure the mummy is properly trapped.

Thus ensues the usual hide-and-chase sequence, although the mummy only groans and shambles slowly rather than running. Of course, there’s still extensive damage done to priceless museum artifacts by the B Team’s attempts to hide. Eventually cornered, the mummy begins to demand, “coin... coin!!” and nods and grunts in the affirmative when Velma suggests he means the old Egyptian one, and not the quarter Shaggy offers him.

When Velma insists they don’t give him what he wants, it falls to Scooby to defend them, and he demands a hefty price of Scooby Snacks.

I believe this is the first time we see a box of Scooby Snacks, which are drawn as being about half the size of previous appearances, and the box simply reads “SCOOBY SNACKS”. It’s also the first implication that “Scooby Snacks” is the name of a product on the market, rather than just what the gang call dog treats, or a home-made specialty.

Emboldened, Scooby tries taking a swing at the mummy with his left foreleg, but there’s a sound like a steel drum being struck, and Scooby’s metacarpals collapse and fold inward like a limp accordion tube. This does not deter the carb-loaded canine, who dashes offscreen and returns in a karate gi, and begins to yelp out kiais so badly stereotypical that the captioning refused to display them as he chops at the motionless mummy. It’s no more effective, so Scooby tries one last attack:

A little of the old razzmatazz.

At first, the soft-shoe routine seems to be Scooby’s attempt at desertion, but in spite of Velma’s shock, the dog sneaks back in behind the advancing mummy and nails his rags to the floor with a hammer.

Once again, the trio flee without making sure that Ankha is captured, even though Velma says they’re going to tell Daphne and Fred that they just did that. Meanwhile, Fred and Daphne are exploring outside, having found what look to be the mummy’s footprints going into a construction area. They discover Dr. Najib’s car, with what appears to be the doctor turned to stone, and wonder if Shaggy and Velma have run into the mummy themselves, not seeming to be concerned that their friends could be turned to stone any moment.

Having returned, Shaggy and Velma find that the mummy has escaped and disappeared, and inspect the piece of bandage left nailed to the floor. They retreat to a laboratory to investigate the new-feeling wrappings and determine its actual age, where an unattended Scooby drinks three large glasses of a chartreuse liquid. There’s an odd screen-filling animation of an explosion that fades in and out, and Scooby’s head has turned into that of a frog!

He lets out a few confused ribbits, and the effect reverses, explosion included—without Shaggy or Velma noticing. Meanwhile, the mummy reappears, demanding the coin before Velma can finish her analysis. While the two humans flee the room in an improvised smokescreen, Scooby is left behind, and the duo only realize as Daphne and Fred rejoin them. The room is empty except for evidence of a struggle, and a window is left open in the back. Fred worries that he’ll end up like the Professor and Dr. Najib...

...and sure enough, the gang discover a stone Scooby back outside. As Shaggy mourns the loss of his friend, the real Scooby digs his way up out of the ground to join him in tearfully weeping over the sad scene.

“Look, Scoob! You’ve been turned to stone!”

Rather than questioning Scooby about what happened to him, the gang decide to backtrack and ignore the great huge clue right in front of them.

Investigating the Professor’s office, Velma learns that Ankha was also the wealthiest ruler of ancient Egypt, and thinks she’s discovered the solution to the mystery of the coin, finding a photo of a statue of a hippo-headed figure that may or may not be a badly rendered representation of the goddess Taweret (understandably lacking the usual large sagging breasts of images of that deity; this is a kids’ show). The likeness of the coin appears with some other symbols on the statue’s belly, but just as the gang realize it, Ankha busts down the office door.

Retreating to the second floor, the gang duck into the wood shop, where—i’m sorry, why is there a WOOD SHOP in a university’s DEPARTMENT OF ARCHAEOLOGY?

Fred tells Daphne to hit the lights so that they can hide in the darkness of a room full of sharp objects and heavy machinery, but Daphne hits the wrong switch and turns on a handheld, corded buzz saw that spins to life and climbs up the wall by cutting through the surface of it.

Now, in addition to majoring in anthropology and library science, i took an elective class in the extremely well-appointed woodworking facility at SUNY Purchase College, and i have at least a basic sense of shop safety. So i speak from something of a position of experience when i say, WHY WOULD YOU PUT THOSE SWITCHES NEXT TO EACH OTHER?

As the saw cuts across the ceiling, back down the wall, and past the mummy, it moves on to circle the gang, cutting through the floor and sending the gang dropping down to the floor below... where there’s a swimming pool.

WHAT KIND OF ARCHAEOLOGY DEPARTMENT IS THIS? A WOOD SHOP? A SWIMMING POOL? WHO DESIGNED THIS COLLEGE, MC ESCHER?

The enraged mummy tosses the saw down at the gang, and its improbably long power cord reaches far enough that the saw moves through the water, chasing the gang as they paddle for their lives. Kudos to the saw’s manufacturers for so extensively waterproofing it, but i really don’t think a 100 meter power cord is a necessity.

Continuing to flee the mummy, Shaggy and Scooby enter the construction area from before, stumbling into a work space where Shaggy notices bags of “Quick Drying Mold Cement”, and “spray molds” that actually appear to be just wooden crates with cement poured in around an empty space in the shape of a standing human being.

“Ruh-huh!” Scooby replies. You could’ve told them that, Scooby. It would have been helpful.

I’ll note that the mold is in the shape of someone standing or laying straight, and all the “stone” figures we’ve seen so far were sitting down. This is what happens when you don’t communicate plot details to your art department, people.

The mummy of Ankha catches up, and the boys flee into a groundskeeper’s shack. When Shaggy peeks out to see if the coast is clear, however...

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Yes, for the love of god.

Ankha continues to demand the coin, but meanwhile, Scooby and Shaggy find the Professor bound, gagged, and stuffed into a bag in the corner. Shaggy pulls down his gag, and asks, “are you alright, Professor?”

“I’m fine!”

“Groovy,” Shaggy replies, putting the gag back in place. “Be back for you later.”

The duo make their escape and the chase scene starts up again, now involving a ride on an improbably speedy lawnmower through an empty gymnasium, and a bit more in the way of trampoline antics. This show loves trampoline antics. Mid-bounce, Scooby, grabs onto a pair of gymnastics rings, and uses his hind legs to kick the mummy across the gym, dunking his bandaged butt into the basketball hoop.

It’s stuff like this that led to the Globetrotters crossovers, i’m sure.

The gang unmask "Ankha”, who, as i’d spoiled ahead of time, is Dr. Najib. He had faked his own petrification as part of a plan to get his hands on the coin—actually the key to the statue in the photo from the book. The gang and the Professor discover that a slot on the back of the statue serves as the keyhole, because apparently no-one was ever diligent enough to examine the back side of this stone figure, and its mouth opens to reveal a “glass beetle”.

Not quite, says the Professor.

There’s no resolution about what happens to this obscenely large “diamond”, identified as such at a glance without any kind of testing of its hardness. Scooby finds the whereabouts of the real mummy of Ankha, and the gang celebrate as Dr. Najib is probably in the midst of arguing his diplomatic immunity somewhere downtown.

And once again, no “meddling kids”, not even a scene of the authorities arriving. All we see of Najib unmasked is the usual silent, glaring fuming, and the explanation falls to the gang and the Professor relaxing calmly in the epilogue.

(like what i’m doing here? It’s not what pays the bills, so i’d really appreciate it if you could send me a bit at my paypal.me or via my ko-fi. Click here to see more entries in this series of posts, or here to go in chronological order)

#scooby doo #KRAOSD

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elenatria · 6 years

Note

Hiddlesworth Valentines’ day

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13707372

“Hey, Tom…”

The deep raspy voice was followed bya momentary, thoughtful pause from the other end of the line.

“Who is th- oh Chris, hi, how areyou, man?”

“Who is this?” Chris scoffed. “Did you delete my phone number, mate?”

“Oh no,” Tom was quick to reply withthat familiar awkward laughter, “it’s-it’s this stupid thing really, I bought anew phone and didn’t have the time to transfer all my contacts, you know, justthe important ones.”

“Just the important ones?…”

“The – c’mon, Chris, you know what Imean, the ones I know by heart, my parents, my sisters, you know.”

“I’m teasing you, mate, take iteasy,” Chris chuckled like it wasn’t a big thing, like it hadn’t been monthssince they last spoke. “I just thought I’d call you, see how you’ve been.”

“I’m… good,” Tom said scratching wearilyhis brow as he peered through the window at Corby, the black-featheredneighbour who was the first to pay his respects when the actor moved in hisapartment in Camden, and who was now pecking at the crumbs of hardened breadand rusks Tom had left outside the window in a small chipped cup.

“Corby and Bobby”, “The Crow and theCocker Spaniel”, “The Black Brothers”. They could be a comedy duo, Tom hadthought when he was searching for a name for the little feathery fellow, or theycould be comic strip characters like Garfield and Oggy, Sylvester and Tweety. Therewere times when he was tempted to pick up the phone, dial the number, talkabout anything really, the weather,the new book he was reading, the swims and the barbecues and the snakes in theyard and in the bedroom and the boomerangs on the wall and the starry Pacificnights. Instead he would always hang up before pressing a single number,distracted by Corby pecking at the glass demanding his daily dose of brokenbiscuits or by Bobby wagging his tail with a ball in his mouth, always eager toplay when his human was finally home. His human was almost never home and whenhe was, Bobby would certainly not let him waste his precious playing time withlong pauses over that talking cabled contraption. After all it was easier forTom to hang up and give Bobby belly rubs until the impulse to make that callwas gone. If anything, Bobby was a good listener.

Besides Tom always felt like therewas nothing to talk about really. People everywhere were so eager to listen towhat he had to say, and he would talk and talk and the mesmerized crowds wouldbe hanging from his lips at every interview, every performance, every Q&A.Everyone would prick up their ears at his wisdom and charisma; everyone but hissisters who knew the real Tom and were too used to his charm. And Chris. Chriswould listen for a while but when Tom started ranting he would cut him short.

“You’re talking too much, mate.”

Or dancing too much, or singing toomuch. Tom would indulge in his spontaneous displays of enthusiasm and Chriswould always be there to contain him, keep him grounded. When there were peoplewatching Chris would laugh and turn the other way, or tease him in front ofeveryone. When they were alone he would mock him with relentless passion untilTom blushed or pouted, or both. And if Tom was determined to not stop no matterwhat, Chris would resort to shutting him up by throwing him pillows. It was pillowfights or long breathtaking kissing sessions. Kisses always worked like a charm- it was an axiom. It was only then that Tom would close his eyes and enjoy thesilence. And silence, in Chris’ arms, on the sofa, on the bed, on the floor,was a warm sea of deep sighs that came and went like murmuring waves. The peacewould be broken only by deep desperate grunts and long ecstatic cries, untilthere was silence again.

“I’m good.” Tom was thinking ofthings to say when Bobby came to him, nuzzling his foot. “Just finishing mybook. Sorry, I was distracted.”

“A book? You thinking about turningit into a movie?”

“Don’t know yet. Look, it’s just abook I’m reading, it’s nothing.” Chris wouldn’t understand anyway. Chris didn’tread books.

Tom heard him sigh and he realizedthat he sounded harsh and dismissive, and it was even worse because there was atime when he wasn’t like that; there was a time when he would try, a time when tryingmeant caring. He had begged Chris more than once to at least take a look at oneof the books he recommended him, and sometimes they’d bicker about it untilmorning.

And then one day Tom stopped trying.Gradually they both did.

“Look, Tom, I just wanted tocongratulate you on your Golden Globe, and I meant to call you on your birthdaytoo, I know it was almost a week ago, I just reckoned you were busy, I was busytoo, yeah-”

“It’s ok, Chris, it’s all good,” Tominterrupted him as that bitter feeling began to well up in his stomach again. Heglanced at Corby, but Corby was finishing his lunch and was about to fly away.

“No it’s not… It’s so not. I totallywish I had called you after you got the Globe, I mean-“

“It’s ok, Chris, it’s not like itwas that important. I mean it was, it’simportant for my work but… yeah. I kind of regret it now.”

“Tom, don’t listen to thoseblockheads, forget about them, what do they know.”

“No, look, I shouldn’t have talkedthat much, they were right. I was just nervous.”

Chris didn’t answer, and severalseconds passed before he could find the right words; words that were doingtheir best not to hurt, not to judge.

His voice came out hoarse andbroken. “You felt the need to apologize. You should never feel the need toapologize, Tom… Not for the bloody speech, not for the tank top, not foranything.”

Now it was Tom’s turn to be silent;the knot in his stomach was making it hard to speak.

“So you read the interview,” hemuttered.

“Yeah, it was out today. I don’teven know why you agreed to answer those questions, GQ is getting worse thanDaily Mail these days.”

Tom blinked slowly as Bobby keptrubbing his head on his leg, whimpering softly.

“I just thought people should know,”he said.

“Don’t feed those cannibals, mate.”

“It’s all good,” Tom shrugged. “Atleast I said what I wanted to say.”

“Do you think people will listen?”

“Did you ever listen?”

Tom knew it was an unfair blow, andthe words came out wrong, like they always did. No matter how hard he tried inhis life to be polite there were times when he couldn’t fight the bitternessand the snark. Chris didn’t deserve this, but there it was.

“I’m listening now…” came the softslurring response. “I know you probably don’t want to talk. I know you’reprobably done talking, done explaining things to yourself, to me, to others. Ijust wish I was there, that’s all. When it counted. I wish the whole world wasone continent, one neighbourhood. And I wish we were still cooking culinarymasterpieces together and drank wine all night long.”

“It’s ok, Chris,” Tom said and hiseyes were stinging. “It’s ok. We all change, it’s the one truth that holds theuniverse together.”

Chris sighed again, and Tom couldhear his shaking breath.

“Go out, tonight, ok, mate?” Christried to sound cheerful but his voice was choked. “Go out and buy teddy bearsand heart-shaped chocolate boxes and drink and dance your heart out, I sure won’tbe there to judge you, I mean you’re an incredible dancer, Tom, an incredibledancer, you’re fucking incredible, you know that, and I always- I always wantedto… I always-“

Tom didn’t know what to say; helistened hard but now there was nothing to hear but his own heavy breathing andthe soft whisper of silent sobbing from the other end of the line. Then therewas nothing.

When Chris finally managed to speakagain Bobby had grown tired of Tom’s unresponsive foot and had curled up in hisbasket, too sleepy and tired to chase his human anymore. Tom fumbled for thetissue box on the table in front of him staring out of the window at the emptycup where Corby was standing just a few minutes ago. He regretted not noticinghim when he decided to fly away, he was too busy wiping his cheeks with theback of his hand.

He was always too busy to noticesuch things.

“Go out, ok?” Chris urged him, nowcomposed. “Go out.”

“I will,” Tom reassured him andwiped his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Tom.”

Tom smiled and closed his eyes. Hehad promised not to cry again but there he was, breaking that promise after allthose months.

“Happy Valentine’s day to you too,”he said, hoping that he’d open his eyes and Corby would be back on the ledge.“Talk to you soon.”

#hiddlesworth #tom hiddleston #chris hemsworth #crumbs and belly rubs #golden globes #GQ #tank top #valentine's day

38 notes · View notes

ladyseaheart1668 · 6 years

Text

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 1, Chapter 2)

Notes: See, one thing I love about the prose format is that I am not constrained by the games one-or-the-other choices. Alodia can play Marco Polo with Sean AND talk to Estela! Such intoxicating power! In case anyone was wondering, I have actually finish rough drafts of the first two books. (I have been working on this fan novel for quite some time), so I can post chapters quite quickly. Content Warning: Strong language because I have the mouth of a sailor. Also mention of bullying in this chapter.

The geometric-printed carpet that covers the Celestial's expansive lobby is dotted here and there with suitcases and luggage racks. A half-finished glass of wine sits on the table. But the concierge desk is deserted. The suitcases are abandoned.

“Where is everybody!” Michelle taps the concierge bell impatiently. “I mean, helloooooooooo!”

No answer.

Sean puffs up his cheeks and blows out the breath through barely parted teeth. The noise sounds bewildered. “Sooo...this'll make for one weird-ass Yelp review.”

“The hotel staff knew we were coming this week, right?” Grace says nervously. “This is not good.”

“What are you complaining about dweeb?” Craig snorts. “We have the whole hotel to ourselves! This is sick!”

I shake my head. “This is totally creepy. I'm with Grace on this one. Something like this doesn't just happen. We should try to figure out if something is seriously wrong.”

Grace smiles gratefully at me. “Thanks for backing me up, Alodia. I don't want to sound like I'm raining on everyone's parade.”

“But you are raining on it!” Craig insists. “You're going full-on monsoon on my parade.”

Raj pops up from behind the bar, grinning. “At least the booze is still here. Who's up for a mai tai?”

Diego picks up the half-finished glass of wine sitting on a table beside a lounge chair. “Check it out, Allie. Fresh lipstick on the rim. It's like everyone just suddenly up and left.”

“But without their luggage,” Quinn chimes in. “Why?”

I'm noticing something else, something that's making me that much more nervous. “Hey...guys? Check your phones, will you? ...Because I'm not getting any service.”

Diego pulls out his phone and frowns. “...I'm not getting service either.”

“Not me, either,” Quinn says. One by one, my classmates confirm it. None of us have cell phone service.

“Maybe they don't got any towers here,” Craig suggests.

Aleister groans. “Of course the island has cell phone towers, you colossal buffoon!”

“And how would you know that?” the girl with the undercut asks warily.

Aleister looks taken aback. “I...well...of course, I...” Abruptly, he regains his composure, features settling into a cold sneer. “Perhaps because I'm not a complete imbecile? They were plainly visible in the distance on our approach.”

“Allie, what do you think's happening?” Diego asks.

“...I'm thinking there was some kind of incident.”

“An incident?”

“Yeah. You know, like a gas leak or an outbreak of plague or something, and everyone had to leave.”

“That's...not implausible actually,” Grace says. “This is a volcanic island, after all.”

“Lila, what do you...” I stop, looking around for our guide. “...Uh...has anyone seen Lila?”

Slowly, we wander outside, where we find Lila pacing like a tiger in a cage.

“Lila?” Grace approaches cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, me? I'm perfect! I'm sure this is positively nothing to worry about! I bet it's just a fire drill.” She flashes a far-too-bright smile at us. “Or maybe even a hotel-wide beach picnic!”

Jake snorts derisively. “Yeah, or maybe the Care Bears came down from the clouds and took everyone to Happy-Happy Land.”

“That's not helping,” Sean growls.

“Have you even watched an episode of Care Bears,” Raj mutters. “You just sound ignorant.”

Jake ignores Raj, turning to glare at Sean. “Not helping? You're the ones sitting around playing story time. How about getting some real answers? Truth is, I'm not here to help. I'm here to get paid. And right now, ain't nobody here to pay me.”

“We're only getting answers if someone around here shows some leadership,” Sean shoots back. “Looks like you're not up to the task.”

“You throw a ball around and you think that qualifies you to talk to me about leadership?”

Sean draws himself up and takes a step closer to Jake. Jake responds, squaring off. For my part, I've had enough, and push in between them.

“Will both of you quit puffing your chests?” I snap. “The only thing that's getting us nowhere is this stupid macho display!”

I admit, my ego is rather tickled by the surprise fighting contrition in their faces, as if I were a teacher pulling apart two boys wrestling on the playground.

“Whoa, hang on--” Sean protests.

“Captain America here's trying to--”

I raise my hand sharply, cutting them off. “Don't wanna hear it. Shake hands. Then put your heads together and help us figure this out.”

The two of them size each other up. Then, grudgingly, they shake hands.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Sean says. “We're good.”

“Sure, whatever,” Jake grunts.

“Great. We've got the power of friendship,” Diego quips. “Now what are we supposed to do, Allie?”

I suddenly realize Diego isn't the only one looking at me for guidance. ...Everyone is. Even Lila. I hesitate, but only for a moment. Someone has to step up here.

“I...Well, there has to be something around here that will tell us what happened, right? I say we split up and search the hotel.”

“Oh, wonderful idea, Alodia!” Lila says, back to her perky self.

“Hmmm, maybe I'll find something by the pool,” Grace suggests.

“The pool, huh?” Jake says. “I like the way you think. I'll go with Brain Trust.”

Raj turns to Craig. “Yo, Craig, if things were normal, what would we be doing right now?”

“Uh...eating?”

“Exactly. Let's check the restaurant.”

“Perfect!” Lila turns to the girl with the undercut. “Where would you like to look Zahra?”

“Don't care,” Zahra mutters.

“Well...how about we check the ballroom?”

“Still don't care.”

“Where are you headed?” I ask Diego.

“I thought I'd check out the pool.”

“I'll go with the ballroom group then.” I grin. “We'll spread the dynamic duo out. Lets more people benefit from our superpowers.” ...Besides that, it kinda looks like Quinn is drifting towards the ballroom group.

He catches where my gaze is lingering and grins back. “Yeah. Good plan, Batman. Meet you back here in a bit.” I start off when something makes me stop.

“...What is it?” Diego asks.

“That girl...the quiet one in the hoodie.” I do a quick head count just to be sure. “...She's gone.”

“...You're right...but...hey, let's worry about one thing at a time, okay?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'll catch up with you later.”

But I can't shake the electric feeling that fizzes in my veins when I remember the way that girl held my gaze.

Lila leads me, Zahra, and Quinn to the ballroom. It is as beautiful and ornate as I expected a ballroom at a Rourke International resort to be, with crystal chandeliers, skylights, ivory painted walls, and soft blue carpet with an elaborate interweaving design like Celtic knotwork. The dais at the head of the room features a wood archway decorated with irises, lilies and roses of all colors, and some flowers I don't even recognize. More flowers, ribbons, and garlands decorate the walls and the chairs surrounding the tables set up on the carpet that surrounds the dancefloor like the sea around an island.

“...Looks like they were in the middle of a wedding.”

“Oh, good,” Zahra mutters. “Alodia is here to state the obvious. Dunno how we would've coped without that.”

I feel a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. “You like being the jerk, huh?”

“Wow, two in a row. You're on a roll.”

“What could've happened here?” Lila murmurs. “Everything's perfectly intact. The champagne's poured, the flowers arranged...”

“Just no people,” Quinn finishes.

“Maybe the bride realized that the institution of marriage is a joke and hightailed it outta here,” Zahra says. Lila gives her a look that is almost wounded.

“Marriage? A joke?”

I cast my eye over the beautiful set up. “Weddings like this don't mean a thing without true love,” I say almost to myself. “It's nice to have a big, beautiful ceremony, but as long as you're with your soulmate, who cares?”

Quinn smiles at me. “You really think that?”

I smile back. “Doesn't everyone?”

Zahra snorts. “At first I thought you were a captive of the marital-industrial complex, but it turns out you're even more of a sap. You believe in soulmates.”

“Guilty as charged,” I say with a shrug.

Zahra reaches for a bottle of white wine from the table nearest to her and pops the cork.

“Zahra!” Lila chides her, “that does not belong to us!”

“Gonna report me?” Zahra asks, pouring herself a glass. “To who exactly? Gimme a break. Last I checked, this was still a vacation.”

She fills another glass and offers it to me. I shrug and take the glass, clinking it against hers and taking a sip. Delicate, fruity sweetness floods my mouth, resting gently on my tongue before slipping down my throat with a warmth that just slightly tips into alcoholic burning.

“Woooah...I did not realize wine could be that good...”

“That is some seriously good stuff,” Zahra agrees. “They must've spent outta control on this.”

I offer Quinn my glass. “Wanna sip?”

“Oh, what the hell. Might never have the chance again, right?” She takes the glass. For a moment she tips it back and forth, watching the golden-yellow liquid ebb and flow against the sides of the glass before taking a swallow. She pauses, considering the flavor with a thoughtful expression, looking like an experienced vintner. After delicately smacking her lips once or twice, the takes the bottle from Zahra. She studies the label, and her eyes go wide.

“Look at this label! This wine was from 1922!”

“Zahra!” Lila shrieks. “You just uncorked an eight-hundred-dollar bottle of wine!”

Zahra burps. “Meh. It wasn't that good.”

“Hang on! Look!” I am already darting from table to table examining the other wine bottles. “Every bottle on every table at this wedding is pre-1924!”

“Who would spend that much on wine?”

Zahra raises her index finger like a cartoon detective. “The answer, as for most baffling questions, is 'crazy rich people'.”

Quinn looks askance at her for a moment before shaking her head dismissively. “Not sure what else we're going to find here, but we should probably head back and see what the others found.”

“Whatever,” Zahra says with a shrug. “But I'm bringing the booze.”

Everyone is already back in the lobby when we get there. I rejoin Diego.

“Find anything by the pool?”

“Nope. No one there. So much for the cabana boys,” he sighs. Then he grins. “But Aleister totally freaked out when Grace was nice to him.”

“We found something in the restaurant!” Craig annouces. “Well, kind of. It was on the volcano. But it was there...and then it was like...not!”

The rest of us stare at him for a long moment. Then Sean clears his throat.

“It was a light. Or something reflecting sunlight. It must have been rotating because we saw it in intervals.”

“We basically stumbled onto a wedding straight out of the Roaring Twenties,” Quinn says. “But...no people there, either.”

I notice Aleister standing off by himself. He is looking up at a towering painting of a goateed man in a brown suit, holding a sword of emerald. I feel my blood tingling in my veins again. I know his face. ...I've seen it leering down at me as I teetered on the edge of a volcano.

You don't understand, do you? Of course not. But you will...in time.

“Aleister...who is that?”

“Hrn? Oh...Alodia...That's Everett Rourke. C.E.O of Rourke International. The man who built this resort.”

“Rourke. ...I think I've seen him before.”

“Hmmph. Who hasn't? Visionary...genius...conquerer of every industry...” He looks up at the painting with what can only be described as bitter disdain. “I still think he looks like a fool.”

He turns and marches off, bumping right into Grace.

“Grace, I...uh...” He scowls. “Just watch where you're going!”

He brushes past her. Grace watches him go with such a wounded look that I can't help putting an arm around her. She looks up at me.

“Alodia, can we talk for a second? You seem like someone I can trust...”

“What is it? If it's about Aleister, I don't think you should take it personally. He--”

“No, no, it's not that...it's...” She shakes her head. “No...never mind. Sorry. I should go.”

I take my arm off her, studying her for a moment.

“...Alright...But if you've got a secret, I'm pretty good at keeping secrets. ...But if you don't want to share it, that's all right, too.”

“...It...it is?”

“Sure. I trust if it's something important, you'll share it eventually.”

Grace pauses, biting her lip. Then, she pulls something from under her sweater.

“...I found this out by the pool. It was right by the fence. And the bars there were...twisted.”

I look at what she's showing me. It's a tooth. A massive, pointed tooth that she can just barely close her small hand around. My breath catches in my throat.

“Oh, my God! It's gotta be a foot long!”

“Whatever this came from, its big. ...I didn't want to share it because I was afraid it would scare everyone. The way it scared me. But...we're all in this together, and everyone should know.”

We gather the others to show them Grace's find.

“No way,” Jake breathes. “There's nothing with teeth that size these days. It has to be a fossil, right?” He looks around for confirmation from the rest of us, but no one is quite sure what to make of it.

“So...after all this,” Sean says, “we're saying we still have no idea where the staff and guests went?”

“All we've got is more questions,” Quinn concedes.

“So...what do we do now?” Zahra asks.

“You go to bed.” We all turn at the voice coming from behind us. The girl in the blue hoodie has reappeared. “Night is falling. You should all get some rest.”

“What is she?” Deigo whispers to me. “The Cheshire Cat?”

“Nope. Not nearly smiley enough,” I whisper back.

“Estela!” Lila exclaims. “There you are! Where have you been?”

“Looking around,” she says in an accent I can't quite place. “Same as you.”

“Did you find anything?” Michelle asks.

“Nothing that matters to you people.”

“Shouldn't you let us decide that?” I mutter.

She pins me with her piercing gaze. “...We've all got secrets.” She turns away and vaults the check-in desk, where she snatches a room key off the wall. “Like I said. Night is falling. I suggest you get some rest. You will need it.”

Without another word, she marches down the hall, leaving the rest of us in bewildered silence.

“...What the hell was that supposed to mean?” Sean mutters.

“Think she means it's nighttime, bro,” Craig quips.

“Well,” Lila says, “it is getting late, and we'll want to be ready to greet everyone when they return from...wherever. Please take the key to your assigned room from behind the desk.”

“Assigned?” Zahra scoffs. “Yeah right!”

She climbs behind the desk and selects a key shaped like a queen chess piece from a higher spot on the wall. She grins at us and twirls the keyring on her index finger.

“Hotel's empty, right? I'm taking a penthouse suite!”

Jake shrugs and grabs a decorative key for himself. “Don't mind if I do.”

Some of the others follow suit. Diego looks thoughtfully at the wall of keys.

“Gonna give yourself an upgrade, Allie?”

“Ah, what the hell.” I grab a key with a palm-tree shaped head. “You only live once, right?”

“Guess so.” He grabs one with a head shaped like a fish. “...What do you think this one is?”

I grin. “Only one way to find out. Come on, let's stash our stuff.”

We ride the elevator to the penthouse level and head towards our respective rooms. I turn the key in the lock and push open the door. I am immediately hit with the scent of clean linen and carpet with just a touch of dust that permeates every hotel room I have ever been in. But there's another scent on top of it this time, something fresher and more natural. When I turn on the light, I see it probably has something to do with the tree in the center of the room that runs through the middle of a circular wooden table in the center of the room, and the vine garlands that run over the stone walls and wind around the pillars. Two rope hammocks form a right angle of sorts around the table.

The bathroom is done all in stone, making it look like a cave. Even the toilet is made to look like stone, although thankfully the lid and the seat are properly sanded wood. The shower is stone on all sides, except for the frosted glass door. There's also a deep hot tub, also decorated to look stone so that it resembles a pool at the bottom of a waterfall.

Slipping off my sandles, I let my feet sink into the plush mottled green and brown carpet and make my way into the bedroom, where amidst more vines and what looks like tribal masks hanging on the walls, a queen-sized canopy bed and stone nightstands wait for me. The whole suite's ceiling is a painted canopy of leaves, permeated by soft golden light that leaves dappled patterns on the objects beneath.

A knock on the door makes my heart quicken. I take a moment to peek at myself in the mirror and smooth my shirt before I open the door.

Deigo waits on the other side. “What's up?”

“Oh! Hi, Diego.”

He grins that knowing grin of his. “Expecting someone else?”

“What? No, I...”

“Yeah, uh-huh, sure.” He slings an arm over my shoulders. “I know you too well, Allie. If you're crushing on someone here, I'm gonna figure out who it is eventually. So you may as well tell me.”

“Oh, why would I spoil the fun of trying to figure it out for you?”

“Fair enough. Well, from the way you were making eyes, the gorgeous redhead is the most likely candidate right now. But the heart-stoppingly handsome Sean Gayle could also be a contender. Or...maybe the pilot with the bedroom eyes? He seems keen on you.”

I poke his temple. “Not telling. Too early to tell.”

When I shut the door, he seems to remember that he is in my room and looks around, whistling lowly.

“In the words of that old dude from Indiana Jones, you chose wisely. Is it too late to trade?”

“You snooze, you lose, pal. ...What did the fish key give you?”

“Coral Reef room.”

“That...actually sounds pretty cool.”

“It's not bad. The walls are aquariums. I like aquariums.” He wanders into the bedroom and bellyflops onto my bed. “Ohh, but this is nice. Especially at the end of a day like today.”

I flop down beside him and ruffle his hair. “Hey...what do you think is going on here?”

He rolls over onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Well, I know this is only because I watch an unhealthy amount of movies...but remember how I was saying I wanted this week to be an adventure? One that will stay with us forever? Maybe...just maybe, the universe is finally listening.” He shakes his head, laughing at himself. “Of course, given my luck with the universe, I'll probably be back to reality, getting bullied again come morning.”

His words make my heart squeeze. Diego puts up a goofy, irreverent front, even with me, but I'm also probably the only person who's ever allowed to see how vulnerable and insecure he really is—how much the years of vicious bullies, cruel slurs, and more than one broken heart have made him afraid to reveal too much of himself. All our lives, I've seen them mock him. I've heard them call him every ugly name in the book, attacking him for his race, his class, his sexuality, his shy and gentle nature. All our lives, I've been the one who's had his back when the bullies laid into him, and I've been the one to hold him when he's cried afterward. And these days, I think I'm the only one who really gets to see that beneath that layer of fear and insecurity, there is a kind, courageous, loyal, talented, creative, fucking beautiful soul that the world should be a lot more grateful for. Without Diego, I wouldn't have made it as far as I have. Without his pure love, loneliness would have crushed me a long time ago.

...I hate his bullies. I am terrified that they will break him one day. And I swore a long time ago that I would never let that happen.

“I think sometimes you've got to force the universe to listen,” I say. It's as close as I can get to voicing my true thoughts right now. ...And if you can't force it alone, Diego, I'll help. Always. You are my brother. You were my family when no one else would be...

He laughs. “And you say I'm the ridiculous one.”

“You are.” My retort earns me a pillow in my face. Probably well-deserved. But I still grab a pillow to retaliate. As I do, I hear the soft sound of something small falling behind the bed. I pause and turn to see what it is. I bend over the side of the bed and pick up a folded piece of paper.

“...Was that under the pillow?”

The paper is yellowed with age, and the edges are worn. I unfold it carefully and find a note written in elegant, looping script:

I must see you one last time before tomorrow. Meet me at our spot in Neptune Cove. Midnight.

“Sealed with a kiss,” I say, pointing to the lipstick print beneath the writing.

“Intriguing. Sounds like a steamy rendezvous. Neptune Cove's on the other side of the island. It's supposed to be real secluded and romantic. ...Hey, could that be where everyone went?”

“Wouldn't be much of a steamy rendezvous with an entire hotel's worth of guests watching. Besides, this letter looks like it's years old.”

“...But it was just sitting there under your pillow. ...This room doesn't look like it's been empty for years.”

“Maybe it belongs to one of the housekeeping staff? A memento from a grandparent or something that got dropped.”

Diego opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by more knocking at the door. I get up and open the door.

“What up, what up, what uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!” Craig bellows, striding into the room. Followed by most of my classmates carrying bottles. “Wooooooah, sweet digs, Alodia!”

“We're heading to the pool for a rage,” Raj announces. “That's right! It's a Raj Rage!”

“...I thought we were all going to sleep.”

“We've got all the time in the world to sleep,” Zahra scoffs.

“Shots up!” Raj crows.

Diego nudges me and points out the window. I look down and see the rest of our classmates out by the pool, stringing up party lights. He grins at me.

“Hell yes. I was so hoping this would happen.”

“I don't know. It's pretty late...”

“Come on, Allie. We promised we would make the most of this trip. Every moment's a chance to find love, find a new adventure...maybe even find yourself.��

I can't help grinning. Affectionately mussing his hair feels like satisfying an itch. “All right, but only because you're too damn charming when you get philosophical.”

“All riiiiiiiight!” Raj yells, and starts chanting, “Alodia! Alodia!”

Craig picks up the chant. “Alodia! Alodia!”

Zahra rolls her eyes. “Fine...Alodia! Alodia!”

“Enough!” I laugh. “My name doesn't exactly make for a graceful chant!”

“It's a very graceful name, though,” Sean remarks, smiling at me.

“All right, stud,” Diego laughs, moving to usher everyone out, “save the flirting for when she's gotten into a bathing suit. And on that note, we should give her some privacy so she can do that.”

I swap my shorts and tank top for my black bikini with the neon firework print. Not my most elegant, but one of the sexiest I own. I run a comb through my honey-blonde hair, debate for a moment whether to pull it back, and decide against it. I head down to the pool, where Grace and Quinn are nearly finished stringing up the party lights all around the pool area. Like my bathroom, the pool is decorated all in stone. It even has a waterfall at the deep end. Upbeat pop music floats out from the speakers, loud enough to get in the blood without drowning out conversation.

“Oh, look who's come to join us!” Grace waves to me. I head over, admiring the job they've done with the lights.

“Love what you've done with the place. Where did you find the lights?”

“In the supply shed by the towels,” Quinn says. “And Grace rewired the circuits to make the lights sync with the music!”

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Behind the poolside bar, Jake is shaking up cocktails. He slides a bloody mary over to Diego and gets started on the next one.

“How'd they rope you into tending bar?” Diego asks after taking a sip. “You lose a bet?”

“Ha! As if I've ever lost a bet! You should have seen the kind of drinks these maniacs were pouring.” He jerks his head at Craig. “Drax over here just filled his to the brim with cinnamon whiskey.”

“What? I call it the Aggro-Craig. It's my go-to.”

Jake finishes the cocktail he's mixing and slides it to Craig. “Try that.”

Craig eyes it suspiciously for a moment before taking a swig. His eyes go wide. “Wha...Woah! That just blew my mind!”

“It's called a Sazerac. Consider yourself enlightened.”

I put my elbows on the bar. “Can I get something?”

“I'm gonna be pouring drinks all night, aren't I? Okay, Princess, what's your poison?”

“Here's a challenge for you. Make a new drink inspired by me.”

He smiles thoughtfully. “Inspired by you, huh? Hmm...” He gives me a long, searching look. “Okay, I think I've got something.”

He turns around and gets to mixing, preparing it under the bar so I can't see what he's adding. He brings up a martini glass filled with a multicolored liquid, garnished with sugar on the rim and a slice of orange. I take a sip and smack my lips.

“Huh. That's all over the place. Salty and sweet, tangy and bitter, dry and fruity...”

“Yeah. It doesn't know what it wants to be just yet. But I think it has the potential to be anything.”

In spite of myself, I feel myself blush. “That's...surprisingly thoughtful.”

“You had to qualify that with 'surprisingly,' huh?” he teases. “I can't be 'typically' thoughtful?”

“Nope. Now it's your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Other side of the bar, Top Gun. I'm making you a drink now.”

“Ah, hell. I have a bad feeling about this.”

But he comes around the bar and takes my seat. I slip behind the bar and salt a martini glass. I grin at Jake as I mix a bit of this and that and top the concoction off with an olive. I slide it over to him. He picks up the glass and looks at the cloudy mixture inside.

“...Looks okay.” He takes a sip and coughs. “Gah! Looks good, but wow, is that bitter. That's a drink that has people making very bad decisions.”

“Exactly. Why do you think I call it the Jake?”

He grabs the bar towel and flicks it at me. “Oh, you think you're funny, do you? That's it! You're cut off! Get out of here!”

I laugh and scoop up my drink, wandering over to the lounge chairs where Diego has made himself comfortable. He passes me a skewer of grilled shrimp and vegetables.

“You've got to try one of these. Raj made them.”

I slip a mushroom off the end and pop it into my mouth. I squish it between my molars, and tangy juice floods my mouth, blending with the perfect mix of spices that coats its surface. “Oh, my GOD that is amazing!”

“I know, right? Next Memorial Day, let's get Raj to cook the burgers.”

“Oh, come on! That was weeks ago! Am I ever going to live that down?”

He grins. “Sure you will. When I stop finding bits of charred burger meat on my dental floss.”

I point the skewer at him like a sword. “En guarde! You'll pay for such slander, knave!”

“Hey! Who's up for Marco Polo?” Sean is in the water with his arms propped on the edge of the pool.

Diego points at me. “She is! She is! Seriously, make her play before she skewers me!”

“Well, Alodia? You in?”

“...I'm in.” I put down my skewer. “Diego, you're spared for now.”

“You'll never hurt me. You love me too much.”

I stick out my tongue at him and slip into shallow end of the pool beside Sean. The water temperature is perfect, and I take a moment to savor it as it laps at my belly.

“Fair warning, I'm basically considered the Sean Gayle of Marco Polo.”

“That's high praise,” Sean concedes. “But don't get cocky. I could win this game with my eyes closed!” He mimes a rimshot and strikes an exaggerated pose, waiting for my reaction. I can't help it. I laugh.

“You're lucky you're cute. That's the only reason you get away with bad jokes like that.”

“I made you laugh,” he says triumphantly. “That's all I wanted to hear.”

“Well, Mister Smooth, you can be 'it' then. Let's see if you've got the moves to back up your mouth.”

He obligingly closes his eyes. The rest of us swim around him, evading his outstretched hands. A few “Marco! Polo!” calls and responses lead him in my direction. He dives at me. I lunge right, but he's too quick for me. He slips under the water and wraps his arms around my waist, eliciting a shriek. He brings his head back above the water.

“Gotcha!”

“You got lucky!” I protest.

“Is that so? Think you can catch me?”

“It is so on!”

I swim to the middle of the pool and close my eyes. “Marco!”

“Polo!” comes the chorus of answering voices. I focus on Sean's smooth baritone, coming from my right.

“Marco!”

“Polo!” His voice comes from behind me this time. I turn towards it.

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

There is movement right in front of me. I lunge. My hands slide over Sean's broad chest, slick from the water.

“Ha! Got you!”

He laughs. “All right, all right, you win!”

“Thought you were supposed to be this elusive star quarterback, but I tackled you so easy!”

“Guess you just know how to read me,” he says, giving a smile that makes my knees feel weak. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Michelle glaring at us from a poolside lounge chair.

“...Michelle doesn't look too happy. What's the deal with you two, anyway?”

“We're...” he trails off, closing his eyes. He is silent for a long time.

“...You...don't have to tell me.”

“Look, don't get me wrong. Michelle's great. She's a lot nicer than she comes off. But...” He opens his eyes. “Alodia, have you ever been with someone who's dating an expectation of you, instead of the real thing?”

I think back to a few lovers I left behind at Hartfeld. “...Yeah...I think I know what you mean...”

“It's not her fault. I think she was just raised to care about status. And that means dating the quarterback. Whoever he is.”

“She's lucky he turned out to be a great guy like you. Seriously, the quarterback at my high school in California was an asshole.”

He chuckles. “...Still...I need something different in my life. I don't want to be a symbol. I want to be a person. That's why I wanted to go on this trip. I didn't realize she'd be picked too. But I'm not going to let that stop me from being the real me for a week...from making real connections with people.”

“...How's that going so far?”

He reaches an arm around to scratch the back of his head and beams at me. It's not the TV-ready grin I've seen him flash before. ...This is a shy, genuine sort of smile. This smile does a lot more than make my knees weak.

“Promising,” he says softly. “I'll keep you posted.”

I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone totally dry. “...Promising.”

“...You all right? Your eyes just went really wide all of the sudden.”

I put on a winning smile of my own. “I'm great.”

“Hey, Allie!” Diego calls from the bar. “Come here a sec, will ya?”

“Gotta run, Sean. See ya later?”

“Absolutely.”

I swim over to the side of the pool and hoist myself out. Diego passes me a towel.

“What's up?”

“Look who's kinda sorta shown up.” He directs his gaze to a spot up and over my shoulder. I turn to look at see Estela sitting on a cliff side overlooking the party. She catches my gaze and holds it for a moment, but this time she's the one who looks away.

“...I'm...gonna go talk to her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna know what she's about.”

“Good luck.”

I slip on my clothes and flipflops and exit the pool area through the gate. I head towards the beach, passing the supply shed and shelves of towels. Back here, the overhead lights flicker, leaving wide pools of darkness. Something else catches my eye. Not only are there towels on the shelves, but there are also at least two dozen woven blankets. Probably for picnics and the like. I grab one and drape it over my shoulders before heading up the path towards the cliff where Estela is sitting with her legs dangling over the edge. She turns sharply as I approach.

“Who's there?” she growls.

“Woah! Hey! It's just me.”

“What do you want?”

“Just thought you might like a little company.” I sigh. This was probably a bad idea. “Sorry to have bothered you.” I turn to leave.

“...Wait. ...Stay...”

I turn back. Her long hair obscures her face, but I think I can see her eyes shimmering. I shrug and come to sit beside her. For a moment, we sit in silence, watching the sea roll against the rocks below. I take the blanket off my shoulders.

“I brought you a blanket...if you're cold.” I hold it out to her, but she recoils, eyeing it suspiciously.

“...Why?”

“...I don't know...to be nice?”

She accepts the blanket and wraps it around her shoulders. “...Thank you.” She turns her gaze skyward. I lean back, propping myself up on my elbows to gaze with her. The stars seem to go on forever here.

“...Where I am from,” she says after a moment, “people don't do things for you without expecting something in return.”

“...Maybe people just want to be liked in return.”

“Isn't that pathetic? How lonely we all are? But at least you're honest about it...”

We sit together in silence for a moment, gazing up at the infinite ceiling of stars. The air is balmy, but a cool breeze blows in from the sea. Cool enough that it makes me shiver.

“...You're cold, too.” She scoots closer and drapes half the blanket over my shoulders. I nestle close to her.

“That was nice of you.”

She smiles in a manner that can only be described as cautious. Two lights that might be shooting stars streak across the sky.

“...Beautiful sky tonight,” I remark. Estela abruptly abandons her place under the blanket, standing sharply.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why? What's wrong?”

“...Look, Alodia. People in my life usually end up being hurt. And I don't mean their feelings.”

“Estela...”

“You seem like a good person. I don't want that to happen to you.” She walks off without another word, disappearing into the darkness.

I am not sure how long I sit there in stunned silence before getting up and wandering back towards the pool. I don't see Estela at the party when I get back. I have no idea where she could have gone.

“Woo! Let's do this!” Craig's bellowing snaps me back to the present. I look up to find him perched at the edge of the nearby gazebo, poised to jump into the pool.

“Craig!” Aleister cries. “That is clearly against pool regulations!”

“Oh, yeah? I don't see anything that says, 'No Badasses Allowed'!”

He takes a flying leap and tucks into a cannonball, slamming into the pool. A tsunami explodes from the spot and soaks everyone standing poolside.

Diego spits out a mouthful of water. “Blah! Pool water!”

I immediately dissolve into helpless giggles. Craig pops his head above the water, whooping triumphantly. That only makes me giggle harder. I double over, clutching my sides.

“I...I'll go get everyone some towels,” I say when I can breathe again.

I go back to the supply shed, stepping carefully in the half-light. I drape one towel after another over my arm, carefully counting out enough for everyone.

Something rustles nearby me. I pause and turn, peering past the fence into the dark rainforest. The bright moonlight can't penetrate the thick canopy. I don't see anything right away. But the rustling comes again. I step a little closer. And then again. I sense movement. A ripple of muscle under flesh and fur, a sinewy shadow...and a pair of golden eyes piercing the darkness.

I scream, staggering backwards. My foot catches something and I tumble hard onto the sand, landing on my back. I hear the sound of rushing feet, and voices calling my name.

“Alodia!” Sean kneels beside me, helping me sit up. “Are you okay?”

Diego is at my other side, his hand on my shoulder. “What happened?”

I can't answer right away. I point a shaking finger at the rainforest past the fence.

“Did you see something?” Quinn asks.

Jake steps a little closer to the fence. “...What was it?”

I am silent a moment. ...Whatever it was, it's not there anymore. The gleaming pair of eyes have vanished.

“I...I have no idea...”

#play choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry choices #Endless Summer #Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto #jake mckenzie #sean gayle #quinn kelly #estela montoya #raj bhandarkar #michelle nguyen #craig hsiao #zahra namazi #aleister rourke #grace hall #book 1 chapter 2

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guil-t-pleasurez · 7 years

Text

Three Little Words

*request by MorikoDrakas

*inspired by the characters of her side-blog, TheUnversedTwins

*Happy Valentine’s Day! ^w^

All it took were those three little words, carelessly tossed into the air without a passing thought. Just that one simple phrase, and it left them reeling. They broke down like a goddamn schoolgirl, crumbling into silence and curling in on themselves. (Well, a schoolgirl that would bite your fucking ear off and then spit it in your face just to taunt you, that is.) It was ridiculous how much strength those words gave him over the usually so confident and suave singer, able to push him to such an extreme without even trying. He practically held their life in his hand.

He hated that.

Roku broke a few speeding laws on his way to the gallery, barely daring to glance down at the clock on his dashboard. He already knew how late he was running – Fucking stupid bastard, causing trouble for no reason! When he finally pulled sharply into the empty spot next to a dark motorcycle, Roku found his heart in his throat. The world whirled by as he leapt out and kicked the door shut behind him. He didn’t even bother to lock it – what kind of fucking idiot would risk stealing the car next to their bike?

He threw open the door to the gallery, panting as he stumbled inside.

The gallery was fairly crowded even at this time of the day, especially considering the holiday. Maybe it was common for art students to flock together – having always been the self-dependent type and not really the most social, Roku wouldn’t know. But it was easy enough to spot the couples from the singles; he pushed his way through, searching frantically. As he wandered around, Roku couldn’t help but notice the vibrant ink decorating most of the patron’s arms. It cheered him up a little to know that he blended in so easily. And who knows, maybe he could even get a few jobs in. Lord knows he needed them.

At last her finally caught a hint of black and gold among the bustle of noise and clashing colors. Breathing a sigh of relief, Roku shoved his way through the crowd and attempted to casually saunter over to the duo. “… Yo. Were you waiting long?”

Naminé spun quickly, her golden locks seeming to spiral out for a moment before drifting down again. Her smile lit up her brilliant blue eyes; it made his heart flutter slightly, and he couldn’t help but return it. “Roku!” she exclaimed, reaching out and grasping his hands. She held them close to her heart, practically glowing. “You really came! I was starting to think you might… I-I mean… it’s not like I doubted you or anything… I just-”

“I had a late customer,” Roku cut her off, quick to reassure the nervous girl. “We had very different ideas of what ‘oh anything’s fine’ meant, that’s all. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

The raven-haired boy lounging next to one of the paintings snorted slightly at that. Roku glanced at him, easily holding his gaze. “Vanitas,” he nodded.

“Babe.” They nodded back, then grinned. “Come on, you must’ve known Nami was gonna get all worried and shit! You should’ve just turned him away.” Their grin widened. “Either that or purposely fuck it up and throw their money back at ‘em for being such a dick.”

Roku rolled his eyes, jamming his hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, right. And what would you have done if I’d tried to pull something like that with yours?”

Vanitas’ hand lingered by their belt, though their smile barely wavered. “Oh I’d have fucking gutted you,” he said simply, as though it were obvious. But that’s not the point.”

“How is that not the point?!”

Naminé made a face at the two of them, before something seemed to catch her interest. She darted back into the crowd of people and was gone before either of them could even blink. Vanitas and Roku exchanged a troubled look, before forgetting all about their argument and trying to catch up with their companion.

Roku was the first to try and change the subject. “So, uh…” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “You had a show last week, didn’t you? Sorry I couldn’t make it – work came up. Your brother give you a hard time or anything?”

“Nah, Vennie’s always like that. Don’t worry about it.” Vanitas seemed distracted, sweeping their gaze across the hall. They made their way easily through the throngs of people, not much different from a shark gliding through murky waters. Roku had a much harder time keeping up, stumbling as he bumped into one person after another.

“…You should’ve dropped by though,” Vanitas finally added, glancing back at him. “They’d have let you in. No charge for cuties like you.”

His ears reddened. “I told you not to call me that!”

“I’m serious! We should plan ahead next time, maybe this weekend if you’re available. I’ll get you a backstage pass, and like… a signature or whatever. S’no big deal. People won’t even notice. It’d just be kinda nice to actually be able to see-”

They broke off suddenly, expression twisting. “… Oh fuck me!”

Was it his brother? Roku feared the worst as he followed his gaze. As soon as he saw the tall man lounging by a very nervous Naminé though, his eyes narrowed. Even from this far away he could still easily identify the smug look of a snob, someone who thought they knew everything about art. Someone who thought a small girl like Naminé wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a Picasso and a Dali. He’d grind her down and make her feel like nothing. Son of a bitch! He’d kill him for that.

Roku ground his teeth, hands tightening to fists as he started forward. But Vanitas thrust out a sudden hand to stop him right in his tracks. “What the fuck!” Roku glared, shoving their arm away. “We can’t just stand here and do nothing! You seeing that shit? That bastard’s gonna make her fucking cry!”

“I know.” Vanitas’ lips curled up into a faint smirk, even as his eyes burned. “I just wanted to check first – you want the legs, or his fucking head?”

Roku blinked, a little taken aback by that. Though he really shouldn’t have been so surprised, knowing Vanitas as well as he did. Slowly, he grinned.

* * *

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Naminé scolded, though the faint rosy hue to her cheeks told them otherwise. “That poor man might never walk again!”

“Well he shouldn’t have messed with our Nami,” Vanitas shot back, taking a seat on one side of the booth. Roku nodding in vigorous agreement, quickly sliding in next to them so that Naminé wouldn’t have to sit next to the obnoxious singer. Vanitas countered by resting a hand on his inner thigh, smirking slightly. “He should’ve known better, the dumb fuck.”

“But you could’ve gotten in trouble! It wasn’t necessary.”

Vanitas just shrugged. “S’not like I haven’t spent a few nights in the jammer.” She started to protest further, but they cut her off easily. “Nami, relax. I already got everyone off our tail ages ago, nobody’s gonna randomly show off and try hauling us off to jail. We’re safe here.”

Naminé still didn’t look entirely convinced, although she eventually lowered her gaze to the menu. Roku didn’t bother looking for his own meal, too focused on trying to figure out what Naminé would get. He’d probably just get the same thing anyways.

After what seemed to be an eternity dragged by, a somewhat disgruntled waitress finally reached their table. She forced a smile, something Roku couldn’t help but admire considered the chaotic restraint around them. “Hiya folks. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Just water,” Naminé nervously pipped up. Vanitas reached under the table to caress her hand, while Roku nodded approvingly.

The waitress seemed to pick up on this, lingering a bit longer than she needed to. “Out on a date with your boyfriend?” she teased, clearly trying to make some desperate attempt at small talk to avoid moving on to her next table. The word seemed to hang overhead. She failed to notice the shock settling over the trio, and continued just as cheerfully. “You’re quite the lucky girl, he’s a real looker!”

Vanitas sprang up from their seat, hand already at their pocket. “Excuse me?” they seethed, causing her to flinch. “The fuck did you just say?!”

Naminé squeaked and ducked her head to stare uncomfortably down at her menu again. Roku grimaced, realizing that he’d have to be the one to fix things. He swallowed back his pride, sitting a little straighter in the booth. “Actually,” he kept his voice level and did his best to smile like his brother might, “Naminé is my girlfriend. And Vanitas is our partner. We’re all together.”

The waitress immediately stammered her apologizes, blushing a deep crimson as she rushed away from the table. Roku knew she wouldn’t be back.

You’d think he’d have gotten used to this by now, but somehow it never got any easier. Not with Naminé always shutting down like that, and Vanitas ready to tear somebody’s fucking throat out at a moment’s notice. He could appreciate such aggression, always being up in arms himself. But it still made it so that things always fell to him when things went to shit. Roku, the one who hated socializing and people to begin with, always had to deal with the dipshits jumping to conclusions. Ugh.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat again and slumping down slightly. “The things I do for you two,” he grumbled. After a moment, he reluctantly reached across the table and fumbled for Naminé’s hand, then reached sideways to firmly grasped Vanitas’. The other two exchanged a look, the latter arching one pierced eyebrow.

Roku stared unwaveringly at the two of them. “You’re just lucky I love you so much.”

Those three damn words. Naminé blushed happily, giving his hand a small squeeze. But Vanitas immediately pulled back, his expression twisted. Roku knew he would, and he couldn’t quite mask the smirk hinting at the corner of his lips. Vanitas glared at him, then turned away as though to sulk. Roku just chuckled, before lowering his head to stare at the menu once more.

* * *

The rest of their day out was fairly uneventful, except for maybe that drunk pervert that decided Naminé looked like quite the treat. Roku had slammed him to the ground while Vanitas carved his fucking eyes out; but it wasn’t like that was anything new for the trio. By now Naminé didn’t even bother to flinch.

Roku was the one to take them all home, loading Vanitas’ motorcycle into the back of his BMW before helping Naminé up. He didn’t say anything about the way the two of them slid into the backseat together, or the way they giggled back and forth almost the whole ride back. He knew they were looking through Naminé’s notebook again, and he grimaced to think of what new compromising positions she could have possibly put them in.

At last they reached Naminé’s house and dropped her off. Roku watched intently until she got to the front step, his heart fluttering again when she smiled in that innocently charming way of hers and waved. He smiled and waved back, before turning to Vanitas. “You can move up if you wan-” he started. But before he had a chance to finish that thought, Roku suddenly felt himself yanked forcibly forward by the fingers knotted in his hair.

It wasn’t romantic in the slightest, Vanitas mashing their mouth against his and cramming their tongue down his throat. It was barely even a kiss, just pure aggression, a fight for dominance. But it wasn’t supposed to be. Vanitas was trying to make a point, trying to prove something. Roku knew that better than anyone.

He refused to rise to the bait, resting a hand against the side of Vanitas’ face in an almost caressing gesture. Roku did his best to keep his touch light, his kiss even gentler.

It didn’t take long for Vanitas to pull away again, ripping their fingers out from Roku’s hair and taking a few tuffs of silver with them. Roku winced. Vanitas didn’t seem to care, glaring again. “You son of a bitch,” they spat.

Roku just smirked back at them. “I love you too.”

Vanitas snarled something about just walking home you bastard, kicking the car door open and leaving their beloved bike behind. Roku just watched them go, until he was sure they really weren’t coming back for it. At last he sighed, tugging the door closed and starting up the car. He’d drop it off next weekend, after they’d had some time to cool off. That’s how these things always went.

Those three simple words could bring everything crashing down. It brought out the worst in them, put everything on the line. But that was exactly why he always used them. Nothing else could get such a response, could make Vanitas feel so much. That’s why Roku loved to do it.

Shaking his head and smiling, he drove off.

#art request #writing request #morikodrakas #theunversedtwins #namine #vanitas #repliku #riku replica #roku #lost trio #replivan #namivan #replinami

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