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fraidy-farfelle · 3 years

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This is my attempt at the Fluff ABCs for Frankie the Undead. Please be gentle with criticism because I cry easily. I’ve taken some ideas from @lovestruck-lasagna.

Taglist: @writingfromthetomb @beebubb

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your dry sense of humor. It perfectly matches his insults and he doesn’t have to go out of his way to make you laugh. He just says what he’s thinking and you laugh and agree.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Frankie appreciates a good smile, and for many reasons. He learned to read smiles (fake vs real) early on and uses it to gauge people, so he pays particular attention by default. He’s a sucker for cute dimples, and loves the way your nose scrunches and your eyes close.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He loves late at night when you share the couch and he can read a good book, sip on some whiskey, or puff on a cigar. He really doesn’t care what you’re doing, he can tune out the TV or you prattling on about your day and make comments to show he’s listening. Put your feet in his lap, lay on top of him, make yourselves mummies in blankets, so long as he can reach his glass he doesn’t care. He just wants to be with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Stay in date nights are his favorite. He doesn’t really like to “share” your attention. He likes to either cook a meal together or order takeout and watch a movie. Particularly black and white gangster ones, or older horror films. Likes to tease you if you get scared and grab onto him. He’ll pat your head and say something like “oh there there, don’t be scared! I won’t let the big, bad monster getcha!” (Like your neighbor isn’t a 7 ft tall children murdering clown demon) If you go out, he prefers less crowded places outdoors.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He’s a spitfire and he knows it. He tends to explode and then after a few minutes apologizes gruffly and explains himself. “WHY WERE YA OUT UNTIL MIDNIGHT, THATS SUCH A STUPID THING TO DO!” “Sorry, Frankie.” “…… ugh just, please get home earlier from now on. It’s dangerous and I worry about you.” Definitely doesn’t hug you close so you don’t see the relief and worry on his face. Nope!

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He misses Amy desperately. He wants a little girl in his life again, although he’ll never ever admit it. He’s hesitant to make relationships because he doesn’t want to be hurt again. But, if you go out with him to the living world, you’ll catch him staring longingly at parents and daughters when he thinks you’re not looking. If you ask him what he’s looking at, he’ll shake his head and spit out a line about children being obnoxious but you can tell he’s blowing smoke.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

If the underworld wasn’t so dangerous, he’d love to drape you in the finest silks with diamonds and rubies dripping off of you. However he doesn’t want you to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. So, he settles for things you don’t really see in public. He also doesn’t like to be found out about it. Your gas tank is filled, the bill you were worried about has mysteriously been paid, your favorite ice cream is in your freezer when you know you ate the last of it yesterday, and hey, didn’t you spend this $20? Why is it in your wallet? If you ever bring it up he’ll just shrug and say “How strange!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He’s torn about PDA because he doesn’t want you to become a target because you’re associated with him, and people stare at him enough because of his appearance. But on the other hand, he wants to show the world that someone as worthless as him (don’t say that we love you Frankie) has such an amazing person that loves him. Will absolutely grab you and passionately make out with you with one hand on your ass and the other flipping the bird to the cheeky bastard that told the broad beside him to watch out for the zombie.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. Sheer panic. He’s so afraid to lose you, any injury is serious and cause for alarm.

Frankie:*bursting into a hospital lobby, screaming to be taken to f/n l/n immediately**running in the opposite direction the nurse pointed in panic**bursts into exam room 30 seconds later* “Y/N!!!!! I came as soon as I got the message, WHATS WRONG!!!”

You: *sitting on the table, reading phone* “Oh, I have a sprained ankle and they don’t want me to drive so can you give me a ride?”

Frankie:*slowly blinking* “Uh, yeah no problem…”

You: “lemme guess, you heard my name and hospital in the same sentence and ignored everything else.”

Frankie:*hanging his head* “go wait in the car, I’ll go apologize….”

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Not actual jokes, but he loves to sit with you and insult people. He’s an incredibly sweet person to you, but no one else. (Except service people, like nurses and waitresses. Just the general public) he doesn’t think pranks are funny or practical, which is one of the many reasons he and LJ butt heads. If LJ or Will prank you or him, he’s raising hell.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Love kissing your lips. He’s actually really self conscious about his mouth stitches and constantly frets they feel weird to you. Neck kisses are another favorite and are extremely private to him. He also likes to hold the back of your hand against his lips and tell you what he’s thinking, no matter how mundane. Kiss his stitches. Please. Just do it.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has trouble saying it to your face. He’ll whisper it to you when he thinks you’re sleeping, and he’s been known to leave little notes around for you to find. He thinks protecting you is the best way to show he cares.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you finally broke down and told him you loved him. He knew as soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your smile his goose was cooked. He was very abrasive and hoping against hope that you’d leave him be. He knew you deserved better. He was so afraid to build a relationship and love again, he wanted to distance himself and if he was an asshole to you, it would be justified and you’d do it on your own. What he didn’t expect is for you to be so kind to him. Upon your initial meeting, he had been a little harsh, but helped you (if there’s enough interest I’ll do a fic about it) and so when he subsequently was a jerk to you, you were curious and determined to find out what he was hiding. He finally had been mean enough to make you cry. He had never regretted something he did before. He immediately wanted to cradle you to him and beg your forgiveness. Normally when he insulted you, you’d have a snarky retort in reply. But not this time. You fell to your knees and clung to his legs and demanded to know why he treated you so poorly and proclaimed your love for him. It was probably by accident and you were so distraught you didn’t even know it flew from your mouth, but hearing it, he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you. Hearing that you loved someone like him made him so happy, he knew he’d treasure the memory forever

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you. Period.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

What ISNT odd about this man?! A cute one is he always winks with his green eye.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I HC that he was born in the 30’s, so he calls you “doll” a lot but only in private. He uses your name otherwise so it’s not as obvious to people watching you’re together. He will absolutely refer to you as “the dame” to others. The equivalent of “the boss” or “old lady.” “William! The Dame is trying to take a nap, so shut up or I’ll shoot you!” You call him stitches to tease him in private and are the only person allowed to do so.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) Either taking naps or couch potato time. Also, low key likes to cook with you. He can’t cook for shit, but likes to “help” by handing you things or chopping things for you. Is a super good taste tester, self appointed.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Stitches by Shawn Mendez (PLEASE DONT HURT ME!!)

We don’t have to Dance by Andy Black (referring to how he can’t really show you affection in public but he loves you)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He’s open about himself and what he’s thinking, and will always take what you say into consideration. He doesn’t like to keep things from you, but he does omit some detail about his jobs if you ask about them. He just feels like you don’t need to be stressed about it.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

LJ picked up on Frankie’s fondness of you almost instantly. He and Will decided to do what they could to get you together in the interest of making Frankie less of a grouch. If it hadn’t been for them insisting that he was good guy to you, you probably WOULD have let Frankie’s prickly nature drive you away. It took a year or so for you to break down.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?) A powder keg of insults, foul language, and bullets. Has actually never called you a name outright, and would absolutely never physically hurt you. When he was deliberately being rude to you, he’d insult your actions rather than you. “Stop acting like a dumb broad!” Vs calling you a bitch to your face. He usually calms down quickly, and is hardly ever angry at you, only when you put yourself in danger.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He likes that he’s scary and tough looking so that when you’re with him, other men scatter pretty fast. Has had many occasions where he stepped away and someone came to flirt with you and he came back and had the pleasure of scaring them.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

You are not allowed to do anything dangerous, ever! Will teach you how to use a gun and how to counter things like chokeholds, so you’re less vulnerable. Will absolutely lose his mind if he learns you’ve put yourself at risk. He will shoot someone so fast for you. Takes every person as a threat to you and will pick fights with somebody that accidentally bumped into you. Do NOT test this man.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

You are an open book to him. He’s learned to read people well, and he takes his time studying you. Can tell if you’re getting sick before you can. More than once he’s handed you a bottle of Tylenol, leaving you bewildered, and shrugged and said to take them because you’ll have a headache in a few minutes. He can pick up on your emotions easily and has learned what to do to handle them.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Honestly, marriage isn’t that important to him. He’s not opposed to the idea at all, but like you’ve been together for this long, you love each other, is it really necessary? You’d have to tell him you want to be officially married. He’ll buy you a ring, to show that you’re taken, if nothing else, but he’ll wear his around his neck under his tie so it’s not obvious he’s attached to anyone to discourage his rivals using you to get to him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

The smell of your perfume. Holding you in his arms and taking deep breaths makes all of his troubles go away.

#frankie the undead #frankie creeps #creepypasta

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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Fish

For @whump-advent-calendar‘s day 4-6, Burn/Candles

CW: Referenced medical whump and dehumanization, light burn (accidental), captivity, muzzling, drugging reference, reluctant whumper turned caretaker

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BAHRAM’S NOTES NOTE TO SELF - SAVE IN EXTERNAL HARD DRIVE. DO NOT LET DR. L SEE.

October 22nd, 20XX 3:45 am Mer in Residence: 19 Days

It’s time to admit I’m more or less keeping a diary at this point as I get to understanding him. So far I’ve written separate notes to myself… for ten or so straight days of the nineteen we’ve had him here, and it’s getting harder to write the official transcriptions the way Dr. L wants me to.

Dr. Lachlan insists I call the mer ‘it’, that it’s to help me distance myself emotionally since it’s such a good mimic of humanity, but I don’t think it’s a damn mimic, I think it’s just… human.

I mean, obviously it’s not HUMAN, but… Miah spelled it out for me, we had an argument about this when he first got here. She gets so angry that he’s getting hurt and you know, I guess I believed Dr. L - mer aren’t my specialty field, I’m a snake man really, I don’t know the first bloody thing about fucking cetaceans.

Anyway, I said to her at the time, “It’s not human.”

She told me, “Maybe not H-U-M-A-N, but P-E-R-S-O-N,” just like jabbing me in the chest afterward. Also, Miah can fingerspell in a way that really makes you feel like a six year old getting yelled at by your mother, for the record. I can’t describe it any other way. I was ready to just melt away from personal embarrassment before she even finished signing “person.”

That’s not the point of this.

I didn’t start a diary just to tell myself how right Miah is about all of this, but hey, here we are.

I need some days off so badly.

Miah wasn’t around today, it’s really just been me and the mer - I’m off for four days coming up here, after 20 days of work, and she’s going to come in and do 24-hour watch until I’m back. It’s not so bad - I don’t really know anyone here, and the bed’s comfortable enough. Dr. L’s paying rent on my apartment so I won’t lose it while I’m working, anyway.

I still feel like some low-level henchman, though. Like any moment some asshole in a tank top is going to show up with guns and I’ll just be a faceless evil stepping stone before the boss fight with Dr. L.

I mean, we all know that Dr. L’s going to be the boss fight, right? Anders would just like lay down or throw Miah in front of himself or something.

No, that’s not fair, he really does love her.

Bahram this is all hypotheticals about a video game. Get back on track, man.

So Miah must have gone shopping or something. She came back with a bag full of these candles from this bookstore she really likes. I mean she came back with an insane amount of books, too, but she had this candle she pulled out and put down on my desk.

She set down the candle - it’s this really nice deep blue and has some kind of like ocean scene painted on the label, like, isn’t that thematic - and smiled at me. “This one reminded me of what we’re doing,” She told me, and her signs were… softer. Her expressions were softer alongside them.

Does that mean… anything? I don’t know. She just put it on my desk and then wandered off. I thanked her but I had to take her shoulder and get her to look at me, first. Maybe her face was a little red.

Maybe not.

We keep the tank room pretty warm, I’m sort of cold-natured and the mer seems more active when we keep the lights really warm, so…

I don’t get why she bought me a candle and why she looked away before I could thank her for it. I don’t get it, and I feel like I should, but I don’t. Is she not looking because it wasn’t a big deal, or because it was a big deal, or… what?

I really WOULD sink into the floor if Dr. L or Miah ever saw that I wrote this. Get it together, Bahram. You are not writing a diary about Miah fucking Kirsse.

It’s been just me and the mer, all day. Dr. L was gone, too, meeting with whoever’s funding this whole thing. She’ll be gone until next week, so there’s no real work getting done, for now. Just blood draws.

She’s showing them its claws she took off. I don’t know why. Honestly, I have such a bad feeling about this, but I needed the cash and nowhere else was hiring for a job that would give me room and board and still time to work on my own research. Not that I’ve done a bit of THAT in a week.

I get too distracted by the mer.

He swims in circles. He stares at nothing, or pokes the plastic coral and ferns we got him, or hides in his cave. I can switch the screens over to watch the camera feed from inside the cave, but he doesn’t do much in there, either. I caught him picking at his scales, and I need to ask Dr. L about that. She took three scales off his tail, which for the record I had nothing to do with (whose record? I’m writing this to myself, and what the fuck does it matter about scales when I’m the one sticking the damn needle in his elbow twice a week), and I caught him sort of whistling sadly and picking at the empty spaces.

They’ll grow back, Dr. L says. She’s not worried.

I am.

A little.

I’m starting to think Dr. L is lying about a lot of things, and I’m not sure what to do about that. If anything. This is a job, and I get paid better than I’ve ever been paid in my life. So… what do I do?

I could call the hotline and report him. It’s anonymous.

She’d know I did it.

I don’t know why, but… I don’t want her to know it was me. Cowardice, I guess. Pure bloody cowardice.

But Miah hasn’t emailed the hotline, either. We can’t both be cowards, right?

Anyway.

Tonight was tank cleaning, which is a bloody fucking chore. Anders was around long enough to help me get the mer tranq’d and into the lift and then the rolling tank where he can just sit until I get my work done. Poor thing just lolls around when he’s tranq’d up. Barely blinks.

Doesn’t stop its fucking crying, though.

We took a lot of blood from him today, too, so he was very weak. Barely moved, just curled himself up small so he was totally in the water and watched me work after Anders left. We’ve got a scrubber machine that does the hard work, I just have to hose some things down and then make sure its filter is still operating correctly. Watch the scrubber. Whole process takes about three hours from start to tank totally refilled, as long as I do it weekly. It’ll take much longer if I let it slide.

Double-checked the camera in the cave, and when I walked out of it I saw the mer’s head was up, watching everything I was doing. He dropped right back down under the water when he saw me looking at him. The muzzle looks so monstrous on him, but more than that, it makes him look like a monster.

Maybe Dr. L doesn’t muzzle him to keep us safe, but to keep me from seeing his expressions while I’m here with him all day.

No, that’s stupid. She doesn’t even think he’s sentient, right?

I finished up, and when I came to roll him back to the lift, I saw he’d popped his head up out of the rolling tank and was looking around the room itself. He hasn’t really looked around at all before this, and he was still tranq’d but maybe I fucked up the dosage? Because he was pretty alert, kind of whistling to himself and giving little chirps and clicks. He sounds like some weird mix of killer whale and fucking otters or something. When he saw me, he flinched back down under the water, but I had this idea.

Dr. L took his claws, and he’s still muzzled except when he’s on the table or when he eats, so like, it’s not like he can hurt me, right?

His eyes had gone to my desk, looking at… I guess all my books and papers and my laptop and everything. Maybe the candle. I waved my hand around until I saw that he was watching me again. With those big eyes it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s looking at, but when I clapped my hands he blinked at me, so I know he can hear it, can see me.

Then - and I swear I’m not lying - he moved himself up out of the water, and put his palms together. His earfins twitched out and back against his scalp, and his white hair dripped water all down his shoulders.

He cocked his head at me. Then he put his hands together, harder this time. He clapped, and then… he clicked.

I KNEW it. I KNEW clicks were questions. Dr. L said their brains don’t work that way, but I bet they do. Who’s even considered how their brains work? Maybe they’re just like us. All the studying I’ve been doing shows that the scans we’ve done of dead ones are pretty similar in overall size and placement of their center of language. They’ve shown that mer populations have their own dialects if they don’t interact with each other, like the Atlantic transients sound totally different than the Pacific transients, which sound different than the residents that stick close to the coastlines up by Alaska...

Making my own head hurt. I don’t even care about fucking mammals, but I guess I do now.

“That’s right,” I said when he clapped, not like he can understand but still. I said it, and I clapped again, and he clapped back. “Can you give me your head? I’ll take your muzzle off, yeah? If you don’t bite.”

Dumbest fucking idea ever, but hey.

I think maybe he knows the word muzzle, because he whistled and shrunk down again, lowering his hands. His ear flaps flattened again. I saw the deep red marks around his neck, from how we have to use the catch-pole to get him out, and I just. I just felt like shit, you know?

I’m shit, that’s what I am, we’re torturing a child, more or less, who hasn’t done a thing to anyone but be by himself because he lost his bloody fucking family. I can’t keep telling myself I’m not the bad guy, you know?

I’m going to jail if I report him, aren’t I? I helped bring him in, after all. There’s my whole career down the drain.

Is this how it felt when everyone was being shit to monkeys in the 70′s and calling it psychology? Did some of them just go along with it because they thought they had to?

This is not helpful, Bahram.

I sat down at my desk and tried to figure it out. His eyes were on me the whole time. I looked over at Miah’s candle, and looked at the label. Like I said, ocean scene. Fronds and ferns and…

I turned the label to face the mer, and tapped on the image with my finger. “Fish,” I said, feeling dumb as hell. I told myself, it’s a bloody animal, Dr. L would roll around laughing at you for this.

But he came back up out of the water. There was a long moment, and I heard him click, and then a soft, “Sssshhhhhh,” sound came from behind his muzzle. They have lips like ours, although their way of communicating is basically whalesong and relies heavily on underwater acoustics. He’s louder in the tank than out of it, although I guess fear might make him quiet, too.

The recordings I found on youtube they get in the ocean are deafening loud. Their voices travel so well underwater, it’s amazing. People sell fucking CDs with mersong over piano to fall asleep to.

I poked at the ocean scene on the label again. “Fish,” I said firmly. “Do you want fish?”

He knows fish.

I KNOW he knows fish because he sat up, held out his right arm, and tapped his elbow with a blunt-edged, broken-off claw before he looked back at me, trembling with fear. He clicked again, twice.

I can’t even tell you how shit I feel, realizing he was asking if I was going to take his blood first. That’s what he meant, it has to be. He poked at the exact spot where he’s bruised up from the needle.

But it makes sense, right?

He’s been here twenty days, more or less. Every couple of days, when he’s hungry enough, we bribe him with fish to get the pole on him, take blood or whatever else, and then he eats.

No, WE don’t take his blood. I take his blood.

He thinks - and he’s fucking thinking, I know he is - that he only eats if we stick a needle in him.

I’m hurting a child.

I’m teaching a child to be hurt.

I’m not religious but this feels like the sort of thing you ask for forgiveness for, doesn’t it? I should call Maman and ask her who I could talk to. I’m going to call Maman or Baba tomorrow.

No I’m not.

What would I tell them I need to speak to someone about?

What if whoever I speak to calls and reports him, and Dr. L knows it was because of me?

I need to stop thinking about this.

“No, NOT draw blood,” I said, and he whimpered again, held out his arm further, closer to me, tapped his elbow again. I knew he could still hurt me - their strength is prodigious, the first time we got him out of the tank he nearly pulled Dr. L down into the water with him - but I decided it was worth the risk.

I kept thinking, he’s more scared of me than I am of him, but you know, of course he is. He’s the one with bruises.

I stretched my own arm out and showed it to him. He flinched back a little, and then leaned forward again, sitting in the little rolling tank that’s barely big enough to hold him. His blunt claws touched my arm, delicate as a feather, clicking as he poked at the sleeve of my sweater.

“No draw blood,” I said. “Just fish. Eat.” I mimed chewing.

He looked at me and clicked twice, cocking his head, then looked at my candle from Miah, pointing at the ocean scene. “Ffff-sshhhh,” he said, muffled.

“No, that’s a candle, it just has fish painted on it. Candle. Fire. Yes?”

Blank stare.

Then, repeated, “Ffff-sssshhh.”

I sighed and pulled out my little lighter. I don’t smoke or anything, but I hate the way matches smell, so I have a lighter on me basically all the time. Plus, having lighters was a pretty good way to make friends back in undergrad when I gave a fuck about that.

I flicked on the lighter, and the mer chirped, curiously.

Has it never seen fire before?

Why would it, it lives in the ocean. Don’t be a dumbshit, Bahram.

“Fire,” I said, and held it out a little for a closer look. “Fire.” I tilted it and lit the candle, and the mer leaned forward, rapt, as the wick sparked up to flame and I blew the smaller flame on the lighter out.

“FFfffff,” The mer said, barely audible. It clicked and held out its hand, and I wasn’t fast enough.

“No, wait stop-”

The mer’s fingertips touched the flame and it let out a deafening loud cry of pain and jerked its hand back down into the water, whimpering at the new kind of hurt, looking at me like it was MY fault, and maybe it was. Eyebrows furrowed, little crease in its forehead, big sad eyes.

The big sad eyes are wrecking me.

“Well, don’t touch fire and you won’t burn,” I said, shaking my head. “No touch fire. Fire bad. Fire burn.”

He held out his hand to show me. “Ffff-rrrrr.” It was a plaintive little breath of air, not quite a real sound.

The ends of two fingers were a little dark, that’s all. I could explain that by saying he’d hurt himself in the tank, maybe. I shook my head and pointed at the water, and it put its hand back in there, huffing a little breath of relief, I think. The water probably helped with the sting.

“Right. Fire bad. No fire.”

“Ffff-rrr... buh-ddd.”

“Right. Fire bad.” I stood up and walked over behind him, and he tried to turn and watch me but I shook my head and pointed back at the candle and he sort of huffed again and looked away. I felt him tense when my fingers touched the back of his head, but he sat still.

Probably because if he struggles when she goes to take the muzzle off or gets her fingers near his mouth, Dr. L has this electricity stick thing…

I’m not supposed to mention that in the transcripts.

I’m not supposed to mention how he screams, and he doesn’t sound like a whale or an otter, then. He doesn’t sound like an animal.

He sounds like a child.

He IS a child

He’s just

I’m a fucking

No. I need to focus. This is stuff I can’t tell Dr. L, I need to write it down here where it’s safe.

The muzzle is easy to get off, you just need to be looking right at it, and I unbuckled and pulled it free, feeling a little resistance from how well it stuck to his face. Without it on, there are deep red lines along his cheeks and jaw, not open or bleeding, just irritated.

He didn't grab at me, or bite. Just watched me with his big eyes as I laid it down on my desk. For a second we were both just quiet, looking at each other.

Then he pointed at the candle again. “Ffff-sssshh.”

“No,” I said. “Candle. Fire.”

The mer’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, echoing what I did earlier. His hair slapped around. His teeth look like shark’s teeth up close, only there’s a lot less of them. “Nnnn-nnnuh,” He tried, shaking his head again.” Nnn-uh. Ffff-sssshhh.” Then he pointed at his mouth, opening wide, showing me the tongue behind his teeth. “Fffff-sssshhh. Ffff-ssshhh.”

I laughed, covering my mouth - he seems to be scared when we show too much teeth, probably in the ocean it’s a threat and they don’t smile like we do. Which, why would they?

But, see, I realized that he wasn’t pointing at the candle at all, but at the fish painted on it. Then he moved to look at the bucket of fish he gets as a reward for obedience, and pointed at that, then looked back at me to see if I was paying attention.

Of course I was. I was barely fucking breathing. This is signs of abstract thought process, recognizing that the image of a thing isn’t the thing itself. That he can point at it to represent what he wants. “You want fish? Is that it? You’re hungry? Want to eat some fish?”

The mer blinked and made a sound like a chirp, clapped his hands together. “Rrrrr. Fff-sssshhh.” He pointed at his mouth again. “Ffff-ssshhh. Buh-rrrrmm. Ffffsshh.”

“What did you say?” I whispered. My heart went cold. I can’t describe it any other way.

“Buh-rrrrmmmm. Ffff-sssshh, Buh-rrrmm.”

The bloody thing knows my fucking name.

He knows we have names and he knows mine and that means-... that means he has one, doesn’t it? If he has a name, if he has

I’m his fucking nightmare aren’t I

I’m the worst fucking thing that could happen to him, me and Miah and Dr. L and Anders and this is a job but it’s the worst thing that’s happened to him and it’s only

It’s going to get worse for him.

He’s going to die here and he’ll know all our names when he does.

Anyway, so... you know... I brought him a bucket of fish.

What else was I supposed to do?

He knows my name!

He let me put the muzzle on him again without fighting after he finished, and I got him back in the tank once the water was refreshed, and he’s sleeping off his meal now. I can see him on the feed, curled up inside the cave.

But I’m wide awake, so I thought I’d write this, because…

Because what the hell do I do now?

I can’t tell Miah.

Can I?

---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whumpywhumper

#whump #mer whump #nonhuman whumpee #wac2020 #fire #burns tw #burn #mer whumpee #reluctant whumper #caretaker and whumpee #reluctant caretaker #caretaker whumper #referenced torture #tail whump #referenced #captivity #muzzled #muzzle #forced drugging reference

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

Note

Ppl be like "Magnus can't have flaws??! How dare you say nice things about him?!??" sometimes. All of Magnus' characteristics that we use to describe him are Canon but ppl act like we're making his personality up??? Saw someone tag a post abt ppl only making up personalities for guys nd not girls with his name as if he wasn't a main and didn't have his own story+background. It was made worse as they tagged the same post with damon Salvatore nd now I feel sick.

Book!magnus isn't flawed he's a straight up asshole. Ppl like to say he's better than show!magnus because of his dick ways and I'm just like: ????. Show!Magnus does have flaws idiots just lack the critical thinking to find them!

idk who damon salvatore is (i mean im vaguely aware hes from that vampire diaries thing but i know nothing beyond that) but otherwise i agree with u (also, ppl got a lot of nerve putting a coc in a list like that like being a moc means being treated even slightly the same way as a white man lmao. i mean yeah sure hes still got male privilege but are you serious? fandom treating a coc like he deserves nuance and well thought out headcanons and love and attention? wish i lived in that world)

what rlly drives me crazy about this whole "magnus is allowed to have flaws" thing is that like, yeah, he sure is! especially because poc are never allowed to be even the slightest bit human, much less flawed, without people getting up in arms about it. magnus' got plenty of flaws! he's stubborn, he's self sacrificial, he hides his feelings from others, he pushes ppl away when they get too close to his vulnerabilities, he has a tendency to simply Decide what other ppl want or need (like with alec and that whole moving to idris thing), he is impulsive, and a lot of other shit

and it's exactly those flaws that draw me to him, honestly! like i talk about how kind and caring he is all the time, and that is true, but i know that this is, at least partially, him feeling like he needs to be useful to be loved, and erasing himself/defining himself by what he can do for others, which is the same trait that leads him to act in all these ways i mentioned above. it's why i relate to him! it's why i love him! magnus isn't perfect, he is good, a good person, and there's a difference

which is the point i have been wanting to make when i started writing this answer because like. what drives me crazy the most is how those dark magnus stans or whatever love to say that they write him as an evil person who literally enjoys hurting others (like im sorry but have you watched the show?) because he's "allowed to have flaws". usually the same ppl who keep being like "i write my relationships realistically!" and when u check out their fics, it's like, literally abuse. like straight up physical violence and manipulation and gaslighting. and. that's not being realistic, girl! that's normalizing abuse

and it's one thing if this is a dark fic and its supposed to be bad or whatever and u just want to explore that, god knows i write about abuse all the damn time. its another to be like "actually if ppl arent like that its not realistic and ur writing them as perfect uwu beans and u have no nuance and are a bad writer". cuz honestly, if u think "having flaws" is being straight up abusive, and that it's "unrealistic" otherwise, then that tells me all i need to know about how u live ur relationships. if u think its literally impossible to exist in the real world without abusing others then i dont want to have shit to do with u, buddy

(and im not even saying that from just a logical standpoint but also from experience because ive had exes and ex friends who used this whole "actually humans are naturally selfish and dont care about others and enjoy hurting others it's human nature" rethoric [and the whole "realistic" thing is really just that except applied to fiction] and surprise! they were all abusive! either to me or other ppl i knew, usually both)

and it's not unrealistic to be kind and care about others! on the contrary, it's a very normal and natural human trait. so miss me with that "either ur character literally enjoys torturing other ppl or he's being written as perfect" shit. which of course gains particularly strong tones when ppl r writing coc, esp moc. like no one insists that if alec doesn't feel literal pleasure hurting others then that's unrealistic and ppl r making his personality up and treating him like he's perfect. i wonder why 🙄

like the bar for "being written realistically" for white ppl is having flaws, for poc it's being straight up cruel

miss me with that shit! magnus is kind, he is selfless, he is caring, he is willing to do anything to help others, he is loving beyond anything else even after all his trauma! and yes, he is still flawed and realistic, and no, he is not an innocent baby. if he were i wouldn't be into it because i don't want a character who's kind because he doesn't know better, i want a character who's kind because they choose to. nothing could possibly be more boring to me than a character who's nice and unaware that other ppl might be assholes, i want characters who know exactly how terrible other people can be, who have experienced it firsthand, but who are still kind because that's who they are and what they believe in. and that's magnus! he knows perfectly well how full of horrors the world is, how sometimes there is no right choice, how sometimes u need to make sacrifices, how some people are really selfish and cruel and he's even been used by those specifically because he's too kind of selfless. he just chooses to still be kind and selfless anyway

if you could never, that's not my problem, or his writing's lol

#woo hooooo time to have an ANTI TAKE boys #sorry anon i kind of snapped #this rant has been sitting on my head for a while #salt #discourse #abuse tw #torture tw #ask #anonymous

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 4 years

Text

Notice Me!~Kim Junmyeon/Suho x Black! R&B Star! Fem! Reader {2}

Previous Parts: 1 2 3

Pairing: Suho x reader

Summary: With your support sent out to EXO as a fan and a potential collaborator, you awaken to a massive wave of support from your fans, along with fellow EXOls. However, a vocal majority of them aren’t too keen about you working with their bias band. All of this anxiety comes to a head as your supports push you towards the idea of a collaboration, including Suho himself.

Warnings: Toxic fans, racist comments and negative thoughts.

Writer’s Note: Here’s chapter 2, I hope you guys enjoy and let me know if you want any more EXO fics/series, requests are open! I also want to add that this is purely fictional, I don’t know Halsey (Ashley) personally, so if she acts a little odd I’m sorry. And another thing about this fic and others I write, the Kpop idols speak English, since I don’t want to butcher any translations or Korean words, since I do not speak the language. Maybe in the future, but not now! Thanks!

Word Count: 1, 583

I could hardly sleep at the sound of my phone buzzing like a madman. Of course the sun peaking through my blinds didn’t help, along with Ashley’s bed hogging ass. Next time I’m taking the couch instead of sharing my bed, jeez.

I shift over on my back to reach for my phone, it comes to life at my slight touch and overwhelms me with so many notifications I almost tumble from the bed.

“Mmh,” Ashley groans, “quit moving.”

She kicks my foot softly, but I don’t react at all, most of my attention is on my phone.

My Twitter bell icon stays red with a swarm of notifications, messages, likes and retweets. I’m trending, right underneath with EXO and of course BTS.

“Uh, Ash, look! Look!”

I nudge her a few times before she rolls over with hair stuck to her cheek and a scowl.

“Y/N, I-I need at least one more hou—”

“Look!” I scold.

We both stay captivated by the tiny screen as Ashley’s finger scrolls down some of the comments.

They read:

Um, SM we need a Empress Dee Dee/ EXO collab, stat!

Aw, Junmyeon was soo cute, I lowkey ship it!

Finally a Kpop band reaching out for a black artist, I wish someone would follow through too *cough, cough BTS

“Holy shit,” Ashley says, “they really love this idea, did your publicist call you about it yet? Y/N?”

Her voice is drowned out as more of the comments turn sour.

A lot of them read:

Western Artist X Kpop Artist= trash

Black people should stay with their own music, it wouldn’t mix with EXO’s sound

Gross, please don’t tell me Junmyeon has a thing for that black girl, why not a Korean woman?

They continue to flood my feed, most of them turning more daunting than the rest.

“Ok, enough Twitter for one morning,” Ashley says as she takes the phone.

“You’re right,” I say, “I need some more sleep.”

Ashley frowns as I lay back against my pillow and yank the covers up and over my face.

“Y/N, come on,” Ashley groans, “you seriously gonna let these assholes get under your skin?”

I nod against the sheets.

“Half of them are right Ash,” I say, “why would any of EXO collab with me? There are many other Kpop artists who are better anyway.”

“Um, but none of them are Empress Dee Dee, are they?” Ashley asks.

I shrug.

“They aren’t black though, Ash,” I note.

Ashley gives me an incredulous look.

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” Ashley growls.

Her words strike an unexpected nerve within me as I push the covers away and sit back up.

“Nothing?! “ I snap, “Ash, it’s everything to do with it! Racism still exists, even more prevalent now, especially with colorism still at an all time high!”

Ashley frowns.

“But I-”

I put a hand on Ashley’s own, the stark contrast of my brown skin and her pale one.

“I know, I know who are Ashley, but it’s different for women like me, and darker skinned black women,” I say, “I just need you to understand that, please.”

Ashley nods.

“I do,” she says, “but I need you to understand that it shouldn’t stop you! Don’t listen to what those assholes are saying!”

“Ash—”

“You love music, don’t you?” she asks.

Her question throws me off, yet I nod anyway.

“Of course I do,” I say.

“Then focus on making music, talk to your publicist and agent about that EXO collab!” she declares.

I watch Ashley in half awe, half amusement as she tosses the sheets onto the floor like the drama queen she’s being. Maybe she should shoot for the Academy Awards rather than Grammys next year.

“You know you gotta pick that up right,” I deadpan while gesturing to the splayed mess of covers below us on the floor.

Ashley turns her nose up, but softens as she comes around to my side of the bed, sitting next to me and taking my hand.

“Don’t worry about the fucking bed spread and listen to me,” she says.

I stare at her eyes, there’s this hint of desperation in them, as if I was the one who insulted her. Maybe I was a bit too much in my feelings. She cares about my wellbeing so much that I forget this affects her as well.

“Promise me that you’ll stay all right through all of this,” she says, gripping my hand skin tight.

I think of another comeback but save it for later.

“I promise Ash,” I vow, “now can you pick up the damn covers?”

Ashley frowns but rises to gather up the covers anyway.

“There. I’m doing it, now could you please call your publicist?”

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I reach for my phone on the nightstand. More notifications flood, a few missed calls from Daphne, my publicist and Todd, my agent. Great, now I have to deal with them.

“I’m calling them back now, Ash,” I announce.

“Awesome,” she calls from the bathroom.

I decide to go with Todd first, since he left the most missed calls. My heart beats heart against the insistent ring of the phone, it drawing out a bit longer than it usually should.

“Hello, Y/N!” Todd calls.

I gulp before speaking.

“Hi Todd, look I-I know I should have contacted Daph first about posting that tweet.”

Todd chuckles through the phone.

“Y/N, that was a genius move! It seemed really genuine!” he exclaims.

I frown.

“Uh, I was completely genuine Todd, my heart was one hundred percent into it,” I say.

“Oh, well that makes it even better, because I’ve already got in contact with the producers on the Ellen Show, and since EXO will be there promoting Obsession, we can finally have you both in talks for a collaboration!”

My stomach nearly drops. It’s exciting news, right? Getting to meet my bias band in front of me instead of a tiny computer screen, yet the circumstances got me worried. In front of all those people. Some of them could be any of those people spouting out hateful comments.

“Er, Y/N,” Todd says, “you heard me, right?”

“I-I u-uh yeah!” I say, “j-just uh, fan girl nerves is all.”

Todd chuckles, but gets back to business as usual.

“No need to worry, it’s all scripted and Ellen has a way of making people calm, especially new guests,” he explains, “but this will really put you on the map! Considering you haven’t made a public appearance since your grammy snub and you’re gonna do it with one of the biggest kpop groups, ever! Don’t let those fangirl nerves get to you too much!”

I manage to cough up a tiny giggle.

“Of course Todd, thank you.”

“Already have a flight set up for you in the morning, I told you that you’d skyrocket soon, didn’t I?” he asks.

I roll my eyes but agree anyway.

“I know Todd, bye.”

“Get plenty of sleep, call me when you get there!” he urges before hanging up.

WIth him off the phone I can finally freak out in peace. Well until Ashley returns with her toothbrush a nosy look on her face.

“Shit, by that face I’m assuming it didn’t go well, did it?” she asks.

I shake my head and collapse backwards against the sheets.

“I-It went unexpectedly well,” I admit, “EXO’s gonna be on Ellen for the first time, and I got a spot on there with them.”

Ashley nearly jumps into the ceiling.

“Are you fucking serious?!” she exclaims, “it hasn’t even been 24 hours yet!”

I nod against my pillow.

“Right! God, I-I’m not ready for this,” I groan.

Ashley shifts closer to wrap an arm around my shoulder.

“You got this sweetie,” she whispers, “I’m gonna take the shower first, that cool with you?”

I nod as she rises.

“Oh and stay off Twitter,” she says as she goes back to the bathroom.

Of course I don’t listen as I unlock my phone yet again. My eyes scan through all of the comments: good, bad, ugly and downright unnecessary. My finger stops at a previous V Live EXO recently did, or a clip at least.

The caption of the video read:

Ya’ll Junmyeon is really out here caring about DeeDee, like a lot! When he gonna pull up 😂😂

I click it and there’s Suho, Baekhyun and Chen with soft looks, unlike the way they looked during their X-EXO concept stage. Beakhyun leans closer to the camera, scanning the comments I assume as Suho frowns.

“Of course not!” Suho growls, “why would anyone say that?”

“What is it hyung?” Chen asks.

Suho points at the screen.

“Someone said that we thought DeeDee was ugly, why would you insult a beautiful woman like that?” he asks in disgust.

My breath gets hitched in my throat at his words.

Baekhyun frowns this time.

“Aw, why are people making fun of DeeDee?” he groans, “don’t listen to them DeeDee! Stay strong! Keep smiling!!”

Chen nods sharply as Baekhyun continues to yell it obnoxiously.

Suho pushes him until he ceases and looks into the camera intensely.

“The people who are saying this aren’t our fans, DeeDee,” he explains, “you’re amazing, stay all right, ok? Ok!”

Suho grins as he puts up his finger hearts as his smile widens.

The video ends, yet it doesn’t within my head. EXO actually stood up for me. This has got to be a dream.

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theentiregdtime · 5 years

Note

bleasse can u write dee and dennis getting rlly high n coming out to eachother or dee somehow finding out mac and dennis r together 😳

PHILADELPHIA, PA

8:00 P.M.ON A FRIDAY

“Damn it, Deandra, what in the shit are you talking about?”

“Yeah, Dee, I’m not following this at all. But it’s getting late, and we haven’t had any customers since noon, so I was thinking me and Frank could just leave-”

“No, no one is leaving, okay?” Dee insists. “I called a meeting and you two are going to shut up and listen to me for once!”

Frank and Charlie exchange a glance. Charlie looks like he’s willing to make a run for it if they both do, and Frank is frowning at him like he knows there’s no way out. They’re not saying anything, but they always seem to know what the other is thinking- they have this weird, creepy telepathy thing.

“So…” Charlie whistles, gaping at Dee like like he thinks she might blow up at any moment (she might), “what’s up?”

“Is this about the ladies’ night thing? ‘Cause we already voted on that.” Frank waves his stubby, little arms through the air. “We get it, Deandra, you want puss, but we can’t just go givin’ out free drinks, this ain’t a charity!”

“For the love of-” Dee snarls in her throat and rubs at her face. She’s going to kill them. She’s going to kill all of them. But she can’t kill them yet, at least not for a couple more years, not until she knows she can get away with it- so she regains her composure with and sighs. Her bangs are all ruffled now. “That’s not what this is about. It’s about this.”

She holds her phone out for Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum to see.

“What am I looking at?”

“Well, Frank, she took a picture of a phone with her phone, which is cool, definitely worth the wait, but what would be even better is if we got a third phone and-”

“Not the phone, you boobs!” Dee spits. “The text!”

Charlie swipes her cell to squint at the picture.

“It’s… It says… milk…”

Frank pats Charlie’s shoulder and takes the phone from his hands. He adjusts his glasses and puts it up to his face- like, right up to his face. Like, he definitely has to be too close to read it now. Any closer and it’ll literally be on his face.

Again, Dee is going to kill them.

“Meet you at 9. Don’t say anything to Dee or Charlie. This is the best thing ever and I don’t want them to ruin it.” Frank pokes the screen. “Then there’s some sort of little yellow man smiling at me-”

“Give me that!” Dee snatches the phone back from Frank’s fat, grubby fingers. “The point is, Mac and Dennis are up to something and they don’t want us to know.”

“Yeah, okay, but why did you read Dennis’ texts…?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah, that’s shitty etiquette. You never know what Donald could be texting about- could be you see somethin’ you don’t wanna see.”

“It’s Dennis,” Dee corrects him knowing damn well he’ll re-forget within the hour, “and he left it on the bar! That’s fair game!”

“I don’t know.” Charlie shrugs. “I’m kind of starting not to take your side anymore, it’s like, you’re the bad guy here…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank agrees, talking with his mouth full and spitting crumbs. What is he even chewing? Is he eating loose saltines out of his pocket? “No one likes a sneaky bitch.”

Dee pinches the bridge of her nose.

She’s wasting her night for this! And why? So she can save the bar and keep these two dick nips in business? She should just walk right on out of here, pour some gasoline, light a match, burn them and this whole place down, go home, put on her pajamas, watch a movie…

She opens her eyes and remembers that she’s still in the back office, and she still hasn’t gotten her point across to these rabid weasel men.

“Listen, you little shit brains.” Dee pounds a fist on the desk. “I think it’s very obvious what’s happening here.”

Charlie nods. “Well, yeah, it’s been-”

“Mac and Dennis are selling the bar.”

Frank chokes on a cracker, hacks it back up, and swallows hard.

“Selling the bar? They only own half the damn thing!”

“Yeah, and like,” Charlie cuts in, “why would they sell it? I mean, what would we even do all day?”

“Look, I don’t know exactly how or why, but I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on. They’re meeting with someone tonight and they’re gonna get rich off this deal and leave the rest of us out of it- and if it’s the best thing that ever happened, then it must be a shitload of money.”

Dee would actually be thrilled to get out of this dump. It’d finally give her the chance to focus on her acting career. She could leave these jerkwads behind, move away from this garbage town, meet some refined people who don’t consider chocolate mints high-class living… But she needs her cut, they owe her her cut.

Even if she doesn’t technically own any shares of the bar, those sons of bitches owe her for putting up with them and their stupid schemes and their verbal abuse for years and years and years. She could give a shit about what happens to Frank and Charlie, but she needs them on her side for this, or she’s never going to get anywhere.

“But I’ve got a plan. I turned on Dennis’ location sharing weeks ago and he hasn’t noticed, so we can track him and-”

“Jeez, Dee, what the hell is this?”

“You are not coming out on top here, Deandra.”

“I mean, this is saying more about you than Mac and Dennis.”

“Just- Shut up for five minutes!” Dee yelps, then switches to squatting and baby-talking down to them. “Can you do that? Can you shut your mouths for five whole minutes while I talk? Or do you want to be out of a job? Do you want to live in the sewers? Do you? Huh?”

Neither of them gives her any lip.

“Good. Now, Dennis should arrive wherever they’re meeting in about,” -she glances at the clock- “forty-five minutes, which gives us just enough time to stop by my apartment, work on some disguises, figure out our characters-”

“Wait- Wh- Our characters?” Charlie stammers.

“Well, yeah. See, we need to intercept the deal, disguise ourselves as Paddy’s customers… you know, tell some stories about what a piece of shit the bar is!” Dee throws her hands in the air. “It’ll be easy, because the bar is a piece of shit.”

Frank raises a skeptical eyebrow. “So to save the bar… we’re gonna make everyone hate the bar. Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Oh, like it’s going to jeopardize our flourishing business.” Dee paces to the other side of the room. “I bet no one’s even in here right now, and if they are, we sure as shit aren’t serving them!”

Dee swings the door open and peeks out into the bar. Aside from one of the regulars fast asleep in a booth (he’s old, he mostly comes here to nap), there’s only one customer. He notices Dee and perks up, waving in her direction.

“Hey, can I get a Jack and Coke, or…?”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” she snaps and slams the door shut, spinning back around to finish detailing her plan.

“Anyways, here’s what I’m thinking…”

—–

“This is so cool.”

Dennis glances up from his Riesling to find Mac gawking at him across the table. He has both elbows on it like some sort of barbarian, leaning forward onto his arms and grinning so wide that it tugs at the wrinkles around his eyes. He looks completely normal, and not at all like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

“It’s, aha…” -he chuckles and sets his glass down- “the same as it always is.”

“Well, I know, but it’s… different now.” Mac reaches across the table and brushes their fingers together, just the ghost of a touch. He leans on his free hand and makes a face like his entire brain has turned to mashed potatoes and all that’s left is Dennis. Dennis pretends to think it’s stupid. “S'awesome.”

Mac’s right, it isn’t the same, not exactly. All of the usual pieces are there. Everything is as it is every month- the uncomfortable chairs are the same, the wait staff is the same (he assumes, he can never remember), the menu is the same, and they’ll spend twenty minutes looking at it before ordering the same meals they always do.

The only thing that separates this from a regular monthly dinner is that little feeling in Dennis’ chest like something is swirling around inside of him, like something’s been filled- like it’s overflowing, in fact- and it’s going to spill out of him at any moment. It’s a good feeling, surprisingly. The air conditioner is blasting directly on his back, and his chair is wobbly, but he’s warmer and more comfortable than he’s ever been in his life.

“You know, I was thinking…”

“Are we ready to order-”

“Begone!” Dennis snaps at the waiter, flitting a hand through the air in a shooing motion. “Can’t you see we’re busy here?”

“Yeah, don’t interrupt my boyfriend, asshole!” Mac shouts so loudly that people five tables from them turn their heads. He seems so giddy to say it that he can hardly keep still in his seat.

The waiter rolls his eyes, huffs, and stomps away. He’s mumbling something under his breath, and typically, Dennis would demand he turn around and say it to his face like a man, but it’s not worth it tonight.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” Mac all but giggles. “That was badass, dude.”

“You know what? It was.” Dennis drinks the last sip of his wine, then holds the glass out over the edge of the table. “But the service here is absolutely unacceptable, I mean, have you even seen a waiter?”

—–

It’s almost 9:20 when they arrive at Guigino’s.

They would have made it on time if not for Frank and Charlie changing costumes every ten seconds. They didn’t listen to Dee’s suggestions at all. Why listen to her? That would almost make too much sense, it would be too reasonable.

In the end, they seem pretty happy with what they’ve settled on.

Frank is wearing a dark wig, a feather boa, and what he thought was a very expensive dress, but is in fact a red bathrobe- and to make matters worse, he has his Crocs on under it. Charlie’s sporting a purple suit with too-small sleeves and pretending to smoke from a pipe. They’ve single-handedly managed to make themselves the two most conspicuous people on the planet, but Dee couldn’t change their minds. They said if they were going to do this whole mystery thing, they really wanted to pull the classy Clue vibe.

So Dee is the only one dressed like an actual waiter, rocking a fake mustache (not that you can tell) and a three-piece suit she thinks matches the Guigino’s attire (she can never remember what the wait staff looks like). She’s got it all planned out. She’s going to intercept orders, drop in on Mac and Dennis’ little exchange, and get some patrons talking about what a shithole Paddy’s Pub is.

And Frank and Charlie are going to do… whatever it is that they’re doing.

Before they go their separate ways, they duck in front of one of the windows and peer inside. It’s a crowded night, which is good- it’ll make it easier for them to blend in. Dee scans the restaurant until she spots Mac and Dennis seated near the kitchen.

“What the hell, why are they alone?” Dee whispers, her breath fogging up the glass.

“Well, maybe they’re just on a-”

“They must be keeping it on the down-low,” Frank cuts Charlie off. “Don’t want to be seen together.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, how would they even communicate?”

“I don’t know, through the waiter or something. You know, passin’ notes, sendin’ messages- encrypted messages. They buy their table fish, that’s code for let’s make this deal, they have ‘em bring the chicken instead, that’s like, how about you up the ante a little bit?”

Goddamn it. These goddamn sons of bitches. They’re going to tank this whole thing before it begins, they aren’t helping at all, and Charlie is actually pretending to take puffs on the pipe even though there’s no one out here!

“What are you talking about?” Dee asks, knowing it’s futile before she even finishes the question.

“The chicken is sub-par, Deandra.”

“Yeah, everybody knows that,” Charlie agrees.

“It’s very dry.”

“No, about the secret messages!” she hisses.

Frank shrugs. “All I’m saying is, must be some pretty high-profile characters.”

Dee isn’t so sure there’s a sale happening anymore. There’s definitely something going on, but she doesn’t know what it is. Looking in, it kind of seems like it’s just one of their lame monthly dinners, but there must be something else… and she’s going to have to figure it out on her own.

But she’s not completely alone. She and her character, Alfredo, a waiter with a dark past who can take any order but the order of his own heart, who can clear any table but can’t turn the tables of fate, are in this together.

“You guys go do your Nancy Drew thing or whatever.” Dee stands up and twirls the tip of her mustache. “I’m going to hit this place from the back.”

—–

Frank and Charlie make their way inside as Dee sneaks around through the back entrance and into the kitchen. They look pretty damn classy, if Frank says so himself.

Dressed like this, they can sit at any table they want and blend right in with the rich folk. Frank should know, he used to be one of them- he knows how to look the part.

His Crocs squeak against the tile with every step up to the hostess’ podium.

“Good even-”

“Yes, darling!” Frank announces and flips his hair. “I’m Miss Scarlett, and this is my lover, Professor-”

“Professor Purple,” Charlie finishes his sentence for him, taking a drag from his pipe.

“It’s Plum, Charlie,” Frank whispers.

“What the hell is a plum?”

“It’s a fruit.”

“That doesn’t sound right. That’s not a thing.”

“Anyways!” Frank turns back to the hostess, voice booming again. “We’re meeting with some associates, so if you don’t mind, we’ll just make our way to their table.”

Before she can object, they’ve already passed the podium and are approaching the nearest family. They’ve got to start somewhere, so they might as well go in order. After all, you can never know an undercover agent just from looking at ‘em. They invade right under your nose, like Red Dawn.

They drag a couple of empty chairs up to the first table, a suspiciously average-looking couple with a small child (they’re starting younger and younger, these child spies). The scooting noise echoes through the restaurant, and it’s loud as shit, but Frank isn’t picking a chair up off the ground- not with his nails freshly-cleaned.

“Boy,” he starts as they both plop themselves down, “have we had a rough night.”

The supposed 'mother’ narrows her eyes at them. “I’m sorry, who are…?”

“We just came in from Paddy’s Pub,” Charlie elaborates, crossing his legs and taking another fake puff. He looks fancy as shit. “Let me tell ya’, that place is a hole- literally! There are glory holes in every wall!”

The woman gasps. The man beside her pulls their alleged child towards him and covers his ears.

“I got bit by a rat there once,” Frank says, “now look at me- I’m covered in hair! And I used to be beautiful.”

“Yeah, and this is just the hair you can see,” Charlie adds.

“Here,” Frank hikes up his skirt and lifts his leg up, with a bit of a struggle, on top of the table. His heel lands in a very warm carbonara. “Let me show ya’ my ankles.”

—–

Dee pokes her head out of the kitchen door, a plate of fried artichokes or some shit in her hand. She’s close enough to Mac and Dennis that she can mostly make out their conversation over the clattering and steaming noises in the room.

“I don’t know, I was just surprised you didn’t want to tell them,” Dennis is saying. “I assumed you’d be screaming about it every day for a week.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Dennis, but you know how they are, they’re gonna be jealous of us, 'cause they’re all sad and alone, and they’re gonna be total assholes about it.”

This is it. This is going somewhere. Dee picks one of the breaded green things off the plate and pops it in her mouth. It’s mushy and it tastes like the underside of a pickled boot.

“So what? Since when do you care?”

“I’m just- I’m worried they’re gonna talk you out of it.”

A pause.

“Mac, baby, this has been a long time coming, nothing is going to-”

Dee misses the rest when a waiter bumps into her from behind. Fuck.

“Oh, uh, excuse me,” she says in her gruffest voice, standing up straight. She brushes the panko crumbs out of her mustache.

The waiter is just squinting at her for some reason- perv.

“Do I know you…?” he asks.

“Not possible,” Dee answers, shaking her head. “I just started here yesterday. And before that…” -she gazes into the distance- “well, that’s a story of another time, another place, a story of love and betrayal and murder-”

“You know what? I don’t care.” The waiter pushes past her and stops at Mac and Dennis’ table.

What an asshole. If he were the one talking, she’d listen to him! That goddamn jerk! She should teach him a lesson. If she weren’t so busy with this mission, she’d pants him or tie his shoelaces together or something.

This is a problem, too. If he’s Mac and Dennis’ waiter, Dee is never going to be able to spy on them without him calling her out.

She sneaks past the three of them and stops beside a family a few tables down, setting the cursed plate of artichokes between them.

“Your appetizer,” she grumbles.

“We didn’t have a-”

“It’s on the house. They’re fantastic, you’re gonna love 'em, they taste nothing at all like a live octopus.”

Dee stays put at the end of their table, trying to listen in on the conversation. They’re still talking to the waiter- they always have so many goddamn questions. They can’t just order food, no, that would be too simple, it’s always what’s the soup of the day and can you make me Tuesday’s soup instead and how fresh is the fish and where are the tomatoes in your bolognese from?

“Did you… need something or…?” the man at the table questions.

“Shh,” she hushes him without looking.

They’re discussing their little scheme again, but Dee can’t make out what they’re saying. Damn it. She’s going to have to get closer.

She swipes a carafe of water and winds around the half-wall, shimmying down until she’s hidden by one of the faux plants. She pretends to water it, pouring cold chunks of ice down into the pot as she eavesdrops.

“I just can’t believe it took so long.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t spent the better part of your life raving about how sinful and unnatural- Why are you picking off my salad? You hate salad.”

“Yeah, but I like croutons, dude. You should have asked for chicken on this.”

“That’s absurd, Mac, everybody knows the chicken here is sub-par.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Dee catches a red blob and a purple blob whipping across the restaurant. They’re making it hard for her to focus. She turns to watch them for a second, and in that short time, witnesses Charlie eating spaghetti with his hands and Frank showing a very uncomfortable-looking woman his teeth.

“Oh, goddamn it!” she whispers.

Dee was going to leave them to their own devices, but they’re going to make a scene and get themselves kicked out. If Mac and Dennis spot them, they’re going to know Dee’s here, too, even if she’s wearing an incredible disguise. She can’t let that happen- she’s going to have to go interfere.

—–

“So…” -Charlie picks up a spaghetti noodle and drops it into his mouth, sauce dripping onto his shirt- “which one of you gentlemen is looking to make a deal?”

He’s managed to ditch Frank, who’s started with this weird 'the beer at Paddy’s shrinks your teeth’ angle, and has decided to act out his own plan instead. See, he has a good thing going at the bar, but these are some very money-having people they’re talking to, people looking for investments, people with lots and lots of shiny coins… and Charlie has plenty of ideas.

The well-dressed men across the table exchange a look, then turn back to him with their hands folded.

“We’re listening,” one of them says. He has a funny voice- he sounds like an evil cat.

This is new. Charlie almost doesn’t know where to go from here. The last three groups asked him to leave or threatened to have him kicked out, and he’d bounced between them with a 'very well then, good day!’ and a tip of his pipe.

But now, these are smart people. They’re actually listening to what Charlie has to say- no one ever listens to what Charlie has to say! If they did, they wouldn’t be here right now. They’d know that there is no scheme and this is just a stupid date they’re crashing!

So he might as well take advantage of the situation and make himself some coins, or rubies, or chalk, or you know, whatever the currency is where these dudes are from. Either way, it works for him.

“My good men…” -he slaps his hands down on the table for dramatic effect- “have you ever thought gee, I sure am a big fan of red cheese, but it’s hard to eat all this wax? Well-”

“No, no, we’re not interested in any of that,” the other guy interrupts. “We’re interested in her.”

Charlie’s eyes follow the path of his finger, which at first, he thinks might be directed at Dee (but who would want that?).

He sees that he’s, in fact, talking about Frank, who’s busy pulling hairs out of his eyebrow and showing them to a child. Charlie isn’t sure what that is, probably some kind of 'Paddy’s is radioactive’ thing.

“What?” he asks in disbelief. “No way, man, I could never sell-”

A fat stack of money is slammed down on the table. Green money. Paper money. Soft money!

Charlie sneers and leans in.

“I’m listening…”

—–

“Why are we still talking about this, dude? It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh no, you do not get to decide that,” Dennis bites back, jamming his glass in Mac’s direction and spilling a few drops. He’ll admit, he’s a little wine drunk. “If I say it’s a big deal, then it’s a big deal! This is a relationship, Mac.”

Mac seems stunned by that. Maybe that’s the first time they’ve used that word- Dennis isn’t sure anymore. This new bottle of Pinot Blanc he’s ordered is fantastic and his fish is overcooked, so he’s just been drinking… and at this point, everything is starting to blur.

“I know, Dennis.” His tone is softer now, but he’s still arguing. Son of a bitch. Beautiful son of a bitch. “It’s just, this is our thing, and people are always trying to get in the middle of it, and for once, just for like a week, I didn’t want it to be anyone else’s.”

Dennis had really pictured this being the other way around. He’s always the one hushing Mac and urging him to keep things just between the two of them. He assumed Mac would be harassing friends and strangers alike, telling them what an outstanding boyfriend Dennis Reynolds is, to the point of annoyance.

Dennis has always been the one who’s wanted to scream his feelings at the top of his lungs, but didn’t for fear that someone else would hear him. Now that person is Mac, who has so boldly decided to reverse the roles without warning, and Dennis doesn’t know how to be in this position.

He doesn’t even know how to answer. Instead, he swirls his glass, watching the liquid slosh around and around so that he doesn’t have to look up at Mac’s dumb, tender puppy dog eyes.

“You know what?” Mac says, and scoots his chair out. “Fuck it.”

He assumes Mac’s going to walk out of the restaurant. That would be apropos, wouldn’t it? Dennis walks out of the bar for a year and Mac walks out on their dinner date for the night. It’s not even a drop of his own medicine and it still burns like acid.

Whatever. He slugs down the rest of his drink and pours himself another- might as well get hammered.

—–

“Excuse me, Sir, may I refill your water?” Dee asks, doing a shitty voice that sounds like Batman, as she approaches Frank’s table.

He waves her out of the way. “Fuck off, I’m trying to watch Charlie.”

It doesn’t work and she only leans in closer. Her breath smells like old sauerkraut.

“Goddamn it, Frank,” -she’s back to her normal squawking voice- “you two cock socks are going to blow my whole cover here. What are you even doing? Why are you sitting by yourself?”

Frank gives her a shove so he can spy on Charlie’s negotiations. He’s pretty good at reading lips. Like right now, one of the guys is saying something about marrying a horse. Twisted sack of shit.

“Because! Charlie is trying to sell me to those mafia-lookin’ guys. He’s a damn double agent!” Frank hollers through a mouth of bread. “But don’t worry, I solved the problem. As soon as those sons of bitches stand up-”

“For the love of- I don’t care!” Dee flaps her hands around. She looks like a chicken. “I was fine with you two doing your stupid costumes, and pretending to be a couple, and putting your body parts in peoples’ soup, but you cannot make a scene! I am this close to figuring out what Mac and Dennis are up to.”

Frank dips another breadstick in his soda and crams it down his gullet whole.

“Who gives a shit?” he tries to say, but mostly what comes out is root beer bread. He’s already reaching for another. “Charlie double-crossed me-”

Dee snatches him by his feather boa and digs her talons into his collarbone. It does not feel great. Frank swallows his food in fear.

“Listen, you son of a bitch, I don’t care if Charlie sells you, because you know what? You’re worth nothing! If he trades you for a shiny paperclip, which he probably will, it will still be more than you’re worth. You guys had one job! All you had to do was shut up while I spied on Mac and Dennis, but no, you’ve somehow gotten yourselves involved with some foreign investors who clearly don’t mind a short, foul, hairy woman who reeks of salami! I swear to god, if you can’t just sit here and keep a low profile for the next fifteen minutes, I will come down upon you like-”

There are a couple of taps on a microphone, and high-pitched feedback fills the restaurant. Most of the patrons moan and cover their ears.

“Shit, sorry, that was loud. But also, I’m not sorry, because I’ve got shit to say.”

That’s Mac talking.

Dee lets go of Frank and he drops back onto his seat. Both of them turn to watch Mac where he’s standing by the piano. He’s whispering to the pianist- actually, it looks more like he’s threatening him- who starts playing a song that sounds vaguely familiar, but Frank can’t place.

“Look, you’re all here tonight because you have people who love you and care about you and take you on dates and aren’t afraid to let you know how they feel. But let me tell each and every one of you motherfuckers… that person you’re with, that person across the table from you, who seems like the only person in the whole, entire world… they’re a piece of shit compared to Dennis Reynolds.”

Oh, yeah, they’re doing the gay speech thing again. Always a classic. Dee looks surprised as shit even though they’ve been through this, like, eight times.

Frank loses interest and dips another breadstick into his drink. They’re made for each other, they always have been- bread and root beer- he doesn’t get how everybody doesn’t see that.

“The first day I met him, I thought Dennis was the smartest, handsomest, most awesome-est guy I’d ever met- but I was wrong. Because every day I wake up, I meet a new version of him that’s somehow even better than he was yesterday. But I’ve been acting so stupid and scared and lame… because all my life, I thought if I just wasn’t loud about something, it would go away. But I don’t want this to go away, so I’m gonna be loud!”

Daniel (is that his name?) is making a stupid face. He looks like he just won the lottery or some shit.

“Dennis, look, I didn’t tell people about us because I didn’t even think about other people! I almost never do! You’re, like, everything to me, man. And I’m so lucky this happened. You’re the meaning in my life. You’re the inspiration.”

“When you love somebody,” Mac sings along to the piano, except he’s really just yelling, “til the end of time!”

The music fades out, and is immediately replaced by the confused chatter of irritated customers. One of the waiters says something about how he’s got to find another job before he finally ends it all.

“Oh, they’re just bangin’,” Frank says with a shrug.

“Ohhh,” Dee draws out, “that makes sense. Well, see, that- that’s nothing. I don’t care about that.”

“I just can’t believe Charlie didn’t know.”

“Right? He’s usually on top of this kind of stuff.”

They both start to blow the joint, but they don’t get far before a symphony of chairs falling and plates shattering resounds across Guigino’s. Frank looks over to see both of the investors have fallen to the floor atop each other, shoelaces tied together, covered in broken glass. Charlie stops counting the money in his hands and stares, wide-eyed, at Frank.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Frank roars, whipping a wrench out of the back of his dress. If you’re gonna look the part, you gotta act the part!

He charges towards Charlie’s table with the wrench above his head, his wig flying off in the process. “Someone’s got to get bludgeoned!”

“Wait,” Mac says into the microphone, “Frank? Charlie?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” Dennis shrieks. “What are you people doing here?!”

“Wait, actually, that’s pretty funny, Charlie,” Mac chuckles. “Did you do that?”

“No, man!” Charlie shouts back. “That was all Frank! That’s hilarious, man!”

Charlie reaches out to give Frank a high-five… and eh, he decides he’ll forgive him. He tosses the wrench to the floor and gives Charlie’s hand a slap. No one can split up the gruesome twosome, not even a couple of men in black looking to buy a glamorous whore.

“Well, that’s just…” -Dennis chugs the rest of his wine straight from the bottle, half of it ending up on his shirt- “that’s awesome.”

“I know, why hasn’t anyone thought of that before?” Mac laughs into the microphone.

Before either of them realizes she was ever even there, Dee storms out of the restaurant with a growl.

Dennis raises his glass, flinging wine on the couple next to him. “Monthly dinner, baby!”

The four of them hoot and holler together, and yeah, Frank thinks, bread and root beer make a pretty good couple.

#asks #saintmilky #saintmilksteak #i'm sorry this went so off the rails #what even IS this???#IT WAS MY ENTIRE SUNDAY THAT'S WHAT #but oh my god thank you for this ask i loved this i really did #it's always sunny in philadelphia #it's always sunny #iasip #dennis reynolds #mac mcdonald #charlie kelly #dee reynolds #frank reynolds #macdennis #fics #my writing

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emeraldwaves · 5 years

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Title: A Dragon’s Magic Epilogue (FINAL CHAPTER) Pairing: Kacchako Rating: M Word Count: 2,673 Summary: Uraraka Ochako has always believed in dragons, though she was constantly told they were long since extinct. Now an adult and professional mage, she’s ready to help her parents as a healer for their village. The last thing she expects is for her beliefs to become a reality, but when a dragon attacks her village, she learns there’s more to magic than she ever could’ve realized. Read on AO3 Thanks to @its-love-u-asshole and @amaisenshi for reading this ahead of time. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SUPPORTED AND READ THIS FIC! I APPRECIATE IT <3

"You look absolutely beautiful, Ochako," her mother said, cupping her cheeks.

"It really does suit you! I can't believe you're going through with this," Mitsuki sighed. "My idiot son better know how lucky he is."

Ochako turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her stomach was completely exposed, her upper half covered by traditional dragon garb. The edge of the wrap was covered with fur and the long skirt she wore was also lined with fur. A necklace made of dragon scales sat around her neck and her boots were covered in scales as well.

Somehow, the traditional wedding garb of the dragons oddly did suit her.

"My perfect girl... I never thought I would see you again, and here you are about to get married!" Her mother pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

It was strange, a few months ago, her mother had hugged her before sending her off to take her magic proficiency test and now they were practically reliving the moment. Only, Ochako's life was going in a very different direction.

"I'm so happy you came, Mom," Ochako whispered, wrapping her arms around the woman.

Even after only a few months, so much had changed. Magic had mostly returned to the dragons, their current flowing like normal, and Ochako and Bakugou were finally getting married.

"Sweetheart, you know your father and I wouldn't miss this for the world," she said.

After returning the magic, one of the first things Bakugou and Ochako had done was go visit her parents. Though she wasn’t supposed to return to her village, her parents were on the outskirts enough they could hide for a short period of time.

"Thank goodness you’re okay," her mother had said, wrapping her arms tightly around her daughter. "Though I am surprised to see you still with the dragon who almost destroyed our village."

"I know it’s strange," Ochako had admitted, "but I promise, he’s not a bad person… er… dragon..."

"I fucking love your daughter," Bakugou had blurted out after that. Leaving both of her parents dumbfounded at the outburst.

It was strange, Ochako had expected her parents to be angry she was choosing to marry the person who had almost destroyed their village, but upon more conversation, they were mostly happy.

Her father was a little concerned, frowning at Bakugou through the majority of the conversation. But while Ochako told them of all her adventures, his face grew warmer.

She had explained the bond to them… how she had helped dragons find their magic again. It was so different from anything her parents had ever done, the two of them had been completely enthralled by the tales of her adventure.

"I guess I can’t complain if you’re taking good care of her," her father said.

"I already told you, I fuckin’ love her!" Bakugou snapped, folding his hands over his chest while Ochako wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Don’t worry I think they know that," she giggled.

The two had agreed to travel with them to dragon island to watch the marriage ceremony; Ochako’s mother was more than thrilled and had jumped into celebration planning with Mitsuki. Her mother was of course, going to make the cake.

Currently, her mother was trying to convince her father to move to the dragon village so they could be close all the time. Talk of babies had come up, and though Ochako wasn’t against the idea… it did seem a little soon. There were more adventures to discover.

As excited as her parents were, Iida and Deku, had been a little more difficult to convince. They were her two best friends though, and Ochako wanted them to be there.

"He's the dragon who almost destroyed our village!" Iida had proclaimed loudly.

"Y-You're going to marry him!?" Deku had looked pale.

Of course, Bakugou didn't do much to help his case when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and got a little possessive despite Ochako mentioning multiple times Deku and Iida were simply childhood friends. "Hell yes she's going to marry me, nerd!" he had snapped.

"O-Of course! R-Right!" Deku flailed, obviously not wanting to get into a fight with a dragon.

Regardless of their slight reservations, Ochako was happy Deku and Iida had come to watch the ceremony. She had missed them and was happy to share this occasion with them.

The door to the room creaked open, bringing Ochako back from her thoughts. "Knock knock!" Mina's cheerful voice called out, and her, Momo, and Kyouka peeked their heads in.

"Girls!" Ochako smiled. "I didn't expect you to come back here."

"Well, we're not the groom so it's allowed!" Mina said, stepping inside. Her pink robes were wrapped tightly around her swollen belly. Her and Kirishima were expecting their first child in the next few months, but Mina was still so full of energy. Kirishima seemed stressed she wouldn't calm down a little.

"Actually we didn't bring any of the boys," Kyouka chuckled. "I wasn’t going to let Denki in here even if I have been watching his every move." It was true. Ever since they’d returned, Kyouka had barely let Denki out of her sight. He had been forgiven when he had profusely apologized, especially since the magic was slowly returning. Still, he was doing everything in his power to not piss anyone else off, and Kyouka was making sure he stayed in check. She rarely left her mate’s side.

"Shouto wanted to come but I figured we shouldn't let any of them see you just in case," Momo said. Ochako was happy to hear she was finally calling him by his first name, especially since they were going to be completing the magic ritual in a few short weeks. "We were going to sit down first, but we wanted to come tell you how excited we are!" Momo continued.

"And maybe sneak a peek at how cute you looked!" Mina cheered excitedly, rushing to her to squeeze her hands.

The four girls had grown extremely close over the past few months and Ochako was grateful they had been so welcoming despite her being a human. Especially now their magic was back and no one was trapped in dragon form or forced to show their scales, everyone was in a much better mood.

Things on the dragon island had mostly returned to normal.

Which was why Mitsuki insisted Katsuki go through the traditional marriage ceremony. They did however compromise about reading aloud long vows, since the two of them had already done so privately during their magic ritual. Admittedly, Ochako wouldn't have cared if she had to say them again, but Katsuki much preferred to be private and Ochako was happy to oblige.

"You girls are too good to me," she giggled. She really was grateful to all of them for being so loving and welcoming.

"The outfit suits you so much!" Momo said, her eyes scanning her.

"Really? You guys don't think I look silly?"

"Well, normally we have our scales out a bit more, tail... or wings..." Mina hummed, "but since you don't have those things, there's no reason to feel silly."

"Okay..." she mumbled, knowing that was impossible for her anyway.

There was another knock at the door and Masaru peered in. "Hello?" he said, a smile pulled across his face. "Katsuki is ready for you! Just thought I'd come over and let you know." Masaru was a kind man, one Ochako had enjoyed getting to know since he had returned to his human form. She could understand why Katsuki would fight so hard for him. She was happy to see he was doing well.

"Ready?" Ochako squeaked. "He's always so fast!"

"Mhm..." he nodded. "Don't worry, if you need more time he can wait."

"Damn right he can wait! Ochako is too good for him," Mitsuki repeated, snarling as she stepped towards the door.

"Oh my gosh! We gotta go sit down!" Mina giggled. "You look perfect Ocha!" she said, waving her hand through the door as she and the other girls headed back out to the main hall.

"Good luck!" Kyouka teased.

"It'll be so beautiful," Momo sighed.

The room was oddly quiet, leaving Ochako with her mother alone. She chose to have both her mother and father to accompany her down the aisle, but for now, she didn't mind being alone with her mother.

"You seem... so much happier here, Ochako," she said, taking her hands.

"I really am," she whispered. "I never expected to... meet dragons and help them find their magic and... fall in love."

"You know the day you finished your magical test... feels so long ago," her mother sighed. "You had a look on your face, after everything was all said and done... and I knew," she said, gently stroking through the small side pieces of her hair, so not to ruin the small crown Mitsuki placed atop her head.

"You knew?" Ochako asked, tilting her head.

"Mhm. I knew you were going to find an adventure... something bigger than our small village. I was very right."

"You were," she giggled. "I blame Grandma."

Her mother let out a soft sigh, cupping Ochako's cheeks again. "She would be so proud. So excited to see you marrying a dragon."

"I wish I could tell her she was right... After all these years, she knew."

"I'm sure she knows she was right. I think she always knew."

"Me too," Ochako nodded.

Well... are you ready?"

"Mhm," she nodded. "Let's get Dad."

The two stepped outside of the room, her father was waiting by the exit. "There's my girl," he smiled. "You look stunning."

"Thanks," she said, blushing as she linked arms with both of her parents. "Are you sure you're both okay with this?" she asked, looking at both of them.

"I don't care who you marry as long as you're happy," her father said, gently tapping at her hand.

"I am. I'm so happy," she giggled, and she took the first step forward, opening the door.

"I think we can see that," her father chuckled.

Music began to play as she proceeded down the aisle with both of her parents. Deku and Iida both waved, smiling at her. Mirio, Tamaki and Nejire had even decided to join, despite Tamaki being terrified to interact with other dragons. The girls were bouncing with excitement. Todoroki was sat next to Momo and he nodded when Ochako walked by, a small smile on his face as well. She knew there was a part of him that, like her, still couldn’t believe this was real. However, he seemed much happier here as well.

Having all of her friends there made her want to cry. This was her life now, and she'd never felt more lucky.

Her gaze then fell upon Bakugou Katsuki and where he stood at the end of the aisle. His pants were heavy, and his boots were thick, lined with fur. His shirt was tight fitted and of course, his cape was draped over his shoulders, fur lining the hood. His wings stood proudly behind him and she could see the golden scales glistening on his cheeks. He looked similar to how he had when she first met him and it made her heart skip a beat.

He was looking at her too, his red eyes following her every move. It made her heart throb, and her stomach wiggle. She was excited and he was too, their bond deeper than ever before. She could even tell Katsuki was in the mood just from looking at her. It filled her heart with a little extra pride.

When they made it to the end of the aisle, Ochako turned to kiss her mother and then her father on the cheek, smiling as she let go of them to stand in front of Katsuki.

He smirked when she stepped in front of him. "Lookin' good, Cheeks," he muttered.

"Thanks," she giggled softly, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek. "I missed these."

"It's.. just tradition or whatever," he scoffed.

"They look nice," she said.

"'Course you think that," he teased.

"Hey-"

"Morning Ladies and Gentleman!" the head dragon began. He spoke loudly, interrupting Bakugou and Ochako's conversation. Not that she minded, she couldn't keep bantering with him, as much as she enjoyed it.

She took her hands, wrapping them around Bakugou's and his fingers squeezed hers. She glanced at him, her brown eyes wide and full of excitement. His red eyes stared at her with an intensity she knew well. She could feel how much he loved her.

"We’re gathered here today to officially proclaim Bakugou Katsuki and Uraraka Ochako to be mates. Though this woman is a human, she has agreed to share in our customs and our rituals and the magical bond these two already share is nothing to scoff at.”

Ochako’s chest felt warm, buzzing with excitement and it was a mixture of his joy and love and her own. She glanced down at his chest, wondering if he felt it just as much as she did.

It was strange, even knowing she wasn’t a dragon… this moment felt perfect, comfortable. Like she was meant to be here. Fate had finally led her in the proper direction.

The dragon head turned to both of them. "I suppose this whole thing might feel a little strange, since you two have already mated and bonded but… let’s do this the proper way shall we?"

Ochako nodded quickly. There was nothing she wanted more, and though Bakugou rolled his eyes, Ochako could see the red on his cheeks dusting over his scales. He was always so damn stubborn.

"Do you, Bakugou Katsuki, choose Uraraka Ochako to be your mate? Do you promise to protect her and care for her and never break this sacred bond you two will soon share?" The lead dragon spoke, turning to Bakugou first.

With a long huff, Bakugou nodded. "I swear I will," he stated, his eyes burning bright. "I love her."

Her chest felt warmer.

"Do you, Uraraka Ochako, choose Bakugou Katsuki to be your mate, despite being human? Do you promise to care for him and never break the sacred bond you two will soon share?"

"We already share a sacred bond," she whispered. This only made it better. "I promise. I love him with all my heart."

The leader smiled. "Perfect. Please seal your bond with a kiss, the final ritual will take place in private amongst you two, but let it be known to your friends and family you two are now mates, the strongest connection dragons can share, and no one can break the bond tying you two together for eternity."

Katsuki stepped forward and wrapped his hands around her cheeks, pulling their lips together. He kissed her gently, sucking softly on her lower lip. She let out a quiet hum, excited for later when they could have the private time the leader spoke of.

The entire crowd cheered and Katsuki pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, Cheeks," he muttered, soft enough that only she could hear, private words just for her.

"I love you too, Katsuki," she said, knowing she meant every word. A smile pulled across her lips. "Should we go... celebrate?"

He took her hand in his own. "Hell yes!"

They were mates now. Officially together forever, though regardless of the ceremony, Ochako knew Katsuki would never leave her side, just as she never wanted to leave his.

As they ran down the aisle, hand in hand, Ochako just knew there were going to be many more adventures for them in the future. She had no idea where they would go or what they would do, but she had a feeling she was going to love them all almost as much as she loved Bakugou Katsuki.

Together, they would always be by each other's side; connected by their hearts and their magic.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha #boku no hero academia #fantasy au #final chapter #<3

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Text

Rick In The Water; Ch6: Do You Feel It

Summary: Oh shit, we gon' meet Unity. (I had to, come on now.) Also, there's some other stuff, the whole chapter isn't Unity shenanigans, I'm basically using her. OHWELL.

A/N: T H I N G S A R E S T A R T I N G T O G E T S M U T T Y We don't get far, yet, but I couldn't let Faux Rick be the only one to get a piece of Nova. ;D Oh, I think it goes without saying this fic regards canon more along the lines of: "Oh, that's a nice storyline you got there, mind if I just.... take it and rework it for my own silly needs?" I mean, I referenced the pilot and then Morty going to the citadel and COMPLETELY skipped over Rick Potion Number 9. But That's not to say it'll never come back. 😎 CW: Drug use, for sure. Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 5564

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch5: I Wanna Be Yours|

Waking up in the Smith house was bizarre. It had been years since I’d had the pleasure, but these days things were a lot different. I woke up most mornings to Summer flipping through channels while simultaneously nose deep in her phone, most likely already texting Madison. She would always apologize when the volume woke me up, but still every morning the volume would inch up until sleep was impossible. The days would be spent hanging out with Beth if she was free or Rick if he wasn’t being completely moody, which was happening more often than not lately. He assured me he wasn’t upset with me for doing what I had to do to get away from the Rick that kidnapped me, but now and then I would catch him giving me that same unreadable look he gave me the first night I got here.

Another morning, another loud MTV reality show, and I was at my wit's end. I rolled over to give Summer a piece of my mind only to find Rick intently focused on whatever dating show rerun was on.

“The fuck are you watching?” I grumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” he said, flicking the screen off and standing up. “We’ve got shit to do today in the Blickblarten System.” He disappeared to his garage, Summer replacing him.

“Oh thank god,” she mumbled, plopping back down in her usual place now that Rick had vacated it. She flipped the TV back on, the brazen tones coming from it propelling me from the couch to continue waking up in peace. As I did my business in the bathroom, I flipped through messages from Madi. She was surprisingly silent on the separation front but I suspected that had to do with the fact she was a smart girl. She knew that things at home weren’t… right. Not that she had the best marriage role models between Beth and I. Beth and Jerry weren’t quite as dysfunctional as Ryan and I, but she was still struggling in her own ways. I wished there was something I could do to help her, but short of leaving her husband as well, I was fresh out of good ideas.

An urgent knock on the bathroom door broke me out of my reverie as Rick started shouting on the other side. “Nova, what the fuck, we have shit to do!” He already sounded frustrated so I finished up, flushing the toilet as I flung the door open, hoping to match his frustration. He glared down at me, but his defense quickly crumbled as that unreadable look reemerged. “C-Come on, let's just go already,” he growled, turning away.

“I’m not dressed,” I shouted after him, heading to Jerry’s office to grab my clothes. Beth may have conceded to let me sleep on her couch, but she insisted I let her keep my things somewhere more private. He huffed, leaning against the wall to wait for me. His attitude was starting to get to me this morning, so I took extra care to take just a little bit longer picking out something to wear.

“We-We’re not going to a fucking ball- just pick something and let's go-” he yelled as he barged in impatiently. Still in my underwear and bra, instead of getting embarrassed, I wanted to test the waters after everything that had happened. I stared at him intently as I bent over, picking up my shirt slowly. He watched carefully as I pulled it over my head, pulling it down very slowly to cover the top half of my body. The look he gave me was a little more readable, shifting from the frustration from earlier to one of astonishment. He turned away, his cheeks redder than I’d ever seen them. My attempt to elicit a reaction from him successful, I finished getting ready, pulling on my yoga pants and running shoes and meeting him at the door. He didn’t say a word as he led me to the garage and it seemed, to my dismay, that his frustration had returned, as he climbed into his ship and slammed the door behind him.

“You know, you can’t expect me to just wake up and be ready to go just because you are,” I scolded him as I opened the passenger side door. Before climbing in, I surveyed the garage, looking for our usual companion on these adventures. “Where’s Morty?” I asked, finally climbing into the passenger seat and looking in the back seat.

“He didn’t want to go,” he told me gruffly with a shrug, starting the engine and flying out of the garage.

“Since when do you accept that kind of response from him?” I questioned cautiously. Morty had little to no choice when it came to going anywhere with his grandfather. Panic started to wash over me as memories of the last time a Rick ushered me out of my home without a Morty anywhere to be seen resurfaced. I quickly pressed the spot on the back of my hand, immediately thinking the worst of the Rick next to me. The alarm started blaring on Rick’s arm, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry, it’s really me,” he sighed, disengaging the alarm and glancing over at me. Space was flying by us, offering no real scenery to lose myself in as we sped through.

“Well, you had me fooled,” I shot back at him, “You’ve been acting really weird Rick. What the hell is up with you?”

“N-Nothing,” he denied unconvincingly. “This is just how I am, get used to it.” My eyes narrowed at him in an instant.

“The fuck do you mean this is just how you are? You weren’t like this before the citadel. I thought we went over this, I was trying to get away from that asshole, I wasn’t into him or whatever,” I snarled at him.

“And I thought I told you I didn’t care about that shit Nova,” Rick countered dismissively. “It fucking sucks, but you had to do what you had to do. I can’t blame you for that.”

“Still sure feels like you are though,” I bit back at him coldly. He didn’t respond, outside of pulling out his flask and taking a long drink. “I wish you would just tell me what the fuck is wrong.”

He turned to consider me a moment, trying to stay angry, but it seemed he couldn’t. That same unreadable goddamn stupid ass fucking look covered his face again and I sighed in frustration, conceding I would get nowhere with him today. I was coming to terms with a silent Rick adventure when he abruptly slammed the gear shift into hover mode and pulled me over to him, pushing his lips onto mine desperately. Stunned at first, I quickly recovered and returned his kiss eagerly.

Oh, that makes more sense.

Wasting no time, I mounted his lap as his hands ran up under the back of my shirt. He was kissing me like it was the only way he was going to keep breathing, and I returned his passion twofold. He moved away from my mouth, kissing down my neck only to be stopped the hem of the t-shirt I was wearing. I groaned in frustration, preparing to lock my fingers around the hem to pull it off when I blinding light filled the cab of the spaceship, accompanied by a shrill alarm.

“Rick, what the fuck is happening?” I screamed as the ship started being pulled upward. He let out a frustrated groan, nudging me to move off of him. He took the craft out of hover and tried to fight the pull of the beam to no avail. I covered my ears against the blaring alarm as we were enveloped by a much larger ship. Rick immediately pulled out his portal gun, ready to cut our losses as a loud, almost sultry voice rang out of a speaker to our left, freezing him in his tracks.

“Hey, Rick.”

*+*

“Goddammit Unity, couldn’t you have just sent out a signal or something? You scared the shit out of us,” Rick yelled at the man that had been sent down to greet us. He was tall, with purple and green reptilian skin, but as he helped me out of the ship I was surprised to find him soft to the touch.

“Who’s this?” the man regarded me coldly, and I swore I heard the jealousy in his tone.

“Unity, this Nova,” Rick introduced us hesitantly. “Nova, this is… Unity. They’re a-a hivemind.”

“A hivemind?” I asked, completely confused. “Like The Faculty?”

“Th-The Faculty?” Rick sputtered. “That’s a really old reference, but I mean, sure, kind of?”

“Nova?” Unity asked hesitantly, “The Nova?”

Rick sighed, looking between the two of us. “Yeah, Une, the Nova.” The man’s eyes lit up, grabbing my hand gleefully.

“Oh, I have heard so much about you,” he squealed, dragging me higher up into the ship, leaving a stunned Rick in our wake. “So he finally went back, did he? How long did it take him to finally talk to you when he got back?” Unity asked eagerly, leading me through a small crowd of his people who all turned to smile knowingly at me.

“I-I don’t know what you mean? I saw him on the first day he was back,” I told him. He brought me to what looked like a captain’s cabin of the enormous ship, leaving me with an admittedly attractive female of his species who sat me down on her large bed.

“That’s great! He used to talk about you constantly-” The Unity female continued the conversation seamlessly before Rick barged through the door.

“N-No, Une, stop. D-Don’t- j-just stop talking- to her,” he begged the woman, glaring up at him.

“I will do no such thing, Rick Sanchez,” she chastised him, “I had to listen to you babble about her every night when you got drunk off your ass, so I deserve the chance to actually get to know her. I will give you one thing, she is absolutely gorgeous.” I blushed at the woman’s kind words, smiling meekly up at Rick.

“W-We were in the middle of s-something you know, wh-when you interrupted.” His eyes flitted to me desperately, but I had no help I could offer him. I was too curious about Unity. “You could’ve sent out a friendly message or something.” He was getting more and more flustered by the minute, trying his hardest to stop any conversation between Unity and me.

“I did Rick, you didn’t answer,” she said, furrowing her brow, “I wasn’t even sure it was you so I figured it was either you or a new member of my family. Win-Win. But I definitely wasn’t expecting her.” Unity eyed me again, seeming to want to commit me to memory.

“Y-Yeah, well you’ve met her,” Rick smiled hesitantly. “N-Now come on Nova, we have to be getting to Blickbarten System. It was nice seeing you Une.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Unity said calmly, standing up to confront him. “Stay for a while, there’s no need to rush.”

“Y-Yeah there is,” he insisted, grabbing my arm to pull me out of there.

“We have fractal dust,” she told him, a smirk playing on her face when he stopped, dropping my wrist and turning back to her. “Stay, hang out for a while.”

“N-Nova, you’ll be alright with Unity, a-alright? It-It’s been years since I’ve been able to get my hands on some fractal dust.” His eyes lit up with excitement as Unity gently pulled me back onto the bed with her and another of her species entered and led Rick down a small spiral staircase.

“Relax Nova, Rick’s just downstairs,” Unity smiled calmly.

“O-Okay.” I tried willing myself to relax at Unity’s request.

It wasn’t working.

“So. Nova. Tell me about yourself,” Unity asked curiously like this was a slumber party and I was the new kid in town.

“I-I’ve known Rick since I was a kid,” I stammered, “I’m not that interesting.”

“I’m sure he’d beg to disagree,” she smirked wickedly.

“I’m a lot more interested in you though, how do you know Rick?” I asked her, desperate to change the topic to anything but me.

“We dated- briefly,” she explained simply, “He was incredible, but I had aspirations, I wanted to take over a nice planet and really settle down.”

“Th-That’s nice,” I offered nervously. For how curious I was about her, any questions I wanted to ask her had turned into mush in my brain. “I-Is that why you broke up?”

“Not necessarily. He also wouldn’t shut the hell up about you!” Her tone briefly became manic before she cleared her throat delicately and continued. “I-I mean, how’s a hivemind supposed to feel wanted when the object of their affection is clearly hung up on someone else!?” she lamented bitterly, “Nothing against you sweetheart, it hurt back then, but I’m okay now,” she assured me with a pat on my back.

“O-Okay,” I sputtered.

“So are you guys a thing? Or are you still in that awkward phase of will they won’t they or something?” she asked as she stood up, fluffing her hair in the mirror.

“I- uh- we’re not really anything as far as I know.” It was my turn to be flustered.

“You mean to tell me that ‘something’ you were in the middle of wasn’t a hot bout of grandpa fuckin’?” She turned and giggled at me, causing my face to go completely red.

“N-N-No!” I denied loudly, “I-I mean, we kissed, b-b-but we did-didn’t f-fu-”

“Fuck sweetie, you can say it,” she said condescendingly as she returned to her mirror to apply her lipstick. “So if you guys aren’t a thing, you mind if I hit it on a rebound? He is looking a lot better than I remembered.”

“I-I, I mean, that’s really up to him.” I was floored at her request, and a part of my mind was screaming at me to shut the fuck up, to tell her no, but she grinned at my ‘permission’, turning to face me again.

“Oh goodie, I know he can’t resist me,” she smiled smugly, spritzing herself with a bottle of perfume from her vanity. “You want me to send one of me of your preferred gender up for you to have fun with? No judgment sweetheart.”

“I-Uh, no, that’s okay. Th-Thanks,” I assured her. She shrugged, turning away and leaving me alone in her room.

+Rick+

Jesus fucking christ, fucking Unity.

Of all the times for my past to come back to haunt me, why did it have to be now? I finally decide to make my move and she just has to come through with the cockblock. I could still feel Nova’s skin, her weight, hell, her scent as she mounted me. Fuck, I could’ve blown my load right there. Now Nova was up there gossiping with my ex about god knows what embarrassing shit. She just had to have fractal dust on hand, didn’t she? I hadn’t had that since the last time I was with her. It was probably the only thing that would’ve gotten me to leave Nova there with her.

A male Unity led me to a small lounge where another of her subjects had lines set up for me, ready to go. My mouth was watering as I sat down on the uncomfortably plush couch, leaning forward and doing a line. The world swirled around me as the husks Unity was possessing surrounded me, a hot Redhead, a guy with blue hair and the guy that initially greeted us took their own hits. I sunk back into the couch, letting the effects of the drug overtake my body, grateful for the feeling of release I was finally getting. It felt like my body was truly starting to relax

“Hey, Rick,” a sultry voice came from beside me. I struggled to turn my head, but when it finally moved, I was surprised to see the Captain Unity husk eyeing me like she was ready to eat me alive.

“H-Hey Une, where’s Nova?” I asked lazily, turning my head back to the ceiling to watch as the dots on the ceiling danced around above me.

“She’s fine, Rick. She wanted me to come and check on you.” She dragged her fingers up and down my chest as she spoke, sending shivers down my spine.

“Did she now?” I asked with a smile. That’s my Nova, always trying to take care of me. I smiled to myself as thoughts of Nova seemed to come to life in front of me. Images of her bringing me coffee first thing in the morning, even memories I’d concocted of my own, like her draping a blanket over me when I’d passed out at my workbench. She was too good to me. Unity watched me as I reminisced, continuing to walk her fingers over me. My mind warped Captain Unity into Nova, and I allowed her to bring her hand up under my shirt. Her touch was sending more chills through my entire body.

“Oh, Nova,” I murmured, looking over at her. She smiled uncomfortably at me but didn’t stop touching me. I guided her over to me, bringing her to rest on my lap as she closed the gap between us, kissing me with the same rough passion from earlier. I brought my hands up, pushing her shirt up to feel the delicate muscles in her back as she moved on top of me.

“You wanna do another line?” Nova whispered against my ear, before leaning over to grab the tray from the table in front of us. I nodded quickly, grabbing the bill I had used earlier. This hit instilled euphoria in me and as soon as she sat the tray safely back on the table, I picked her up and rested her back on the couch. I tugged her shirt up over her head, tossing it away from us as I eagerly returned to her chest. Her bra still stood between us, and as buried my face in her hair and reached around her back for the clasp, I finally started noticing something was wrong. I pulled away, realizing Nova smelled an awful lot like the cheap perfume Unity used to always wear when we were together. I blinked repeatedly until the Nova in front of me turned back into the Captain Unity she truly was.

“Unity? What the fuck are you doing?” I recoiled back from her, grabbing her shirt and throwing it back at her.

“You can call me by her name if you want. I don’t mind,” she pleaded, crawling over the couch to me and grabbing the lapels of my lab coat. “I’ve never minded, I swear,” she murmured in my ear

“Ugh, no. Stop. Get away from me.” I pushed her back onto the couch. My adrenaline was lessening the effects of the fractal dust as the different husks around me glared at me sadly. “Where’s Nova?” I asked sharply, wiping the leftover saliva away from my mouth.

“Sh-She’s upstairs,” Captain Unity relented, pointing to the stairs to her room pitifully. I stormed up to find Nova, pulling my flask out in an attempt to get the taste of Unity out of my mouth. I burst through the door to find Nova sitting sadly on the bed, looking very unsure of how she even got there in the first place.

“C-Come on Nova, we’ve gotta go,” I growled, grabbing her hand and leaving the room.

“R-Rick? What happened?” she asked fearfully as I pulled her behind me, ignoring all of the Unity husks approaching me.

“We’ve gotta get the fuck outta here,” I seethed, “I knew staying here was a bad fucking idea.”

“Wh-what happened?”

“L-Look, I’ll explain once we’re far away from here, okay?” My head was still spinning when we finally made it to the ship and I hesitated by the driver’s side door. “You can drive a stick, right? It’s not that hard, I’m just- I’m rollin’ pretty fucking hard and I’m gonna need you to fly us out of here.”

“I-I can try,” she swallowed her fear as I boosted her into my seat before making my way around to the passenger seat. The engine started, but the bay door beneath us didn’t open.

“Unity, open this fucking door!” I roared, rolling down the window.

“Come on Rick! Just stay for a little while!” the blue-haired Unity asked desperately, “It could be like old times!”

“N-Now!” I shouted viciously. The blue-haired Unity hung his head, opening the bay door, allowing us to fall through. “A-Alright, Nova, listen to me.” I directed her through the basics of flying as we lazily fell through space. She caught on quickly, rocketing us out into the expanse of space. Once Unity’s ship had disappeared behind us, she slowed, shifting into hover mode.

“You wanna explain to me what the fuck that was all about?” she asked eyes narrowed as she turned to me.

“Wh-What the fuck did you say to Unity?” I shot back at her.

“Nothing!” she exclaimed, “She was asking if w-we were a th-thing and I told her no!”

“Anything else?” I pressed, “Anything that would explain why she came down and hopped on my lap?” I lied. She didn’t need to know all the details and I likely wouldn’t remember them for much longer anyway.

“She asked if I minded if she tried to hit that on the rebound. I-I told her that it would be up to you,” she revealed shamefully, “What. Happened?”

“Well, she did try. She went with the tried and true method of getting me really fucking high and trying to jump my bones,” I told her, disgusted with Unity for being so goddamn brazen.

“D-did you guys-”

“No!” I stopped her. “I realized- I stopped her.”

Shit.

“What did you realize Rick?” She pressed.

The fractal dust still in my system was back in full effect now that I wasn’t pumping through adrenaline and I couldn’t stop myself from continuing. “I realized she wasn’t you, okay?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Look Rick, that kiss-”

“Nova, if you’re about to tell me it doesn’t have to mean anything then you haven’t been paying attention to anything that’s been happening,” I told her flatly, not letting her finish.

“B-But, Unity-”

I stopped her this time with a kiss, unwilling to hear another word about what she thought I wanted. I couldn’t believe I didn’t realize it wasn’t her sooner, just by the taste of her mouth. Nova was warm and comforting where Unity had been cold. I’d chalk it up now to be the reptilian life form she had been inhabiting, but I still couldn’t believe it hadn’t been a dead giveaway. Nova crossed the cab again, resting in my lap. I made quick work of her top, tossing it back into the seat next to me. Her skin was soft against my lips as I traced around the curves of her breasts. She tilted her head back, moaning from my touch.

“Rick,” she hissed as I bit her gently. Her hips gyrated slowly against me, and I couldn’t stop myself as I brought my hands up to her breasts. I had to take a deep breath to stop myself from ravaging her right here in this ship. As I paused, she took control, tilting forward again to find my neck. She nibbled gently, and a shudder shook my entire body as my hand tightened around her breast.

“Ship, recline the passenger seat and remove armrests,” I ordered, my voice shaky. It repeated my order back to me and I flipped Nova over, resting her beneath me. Looking down at her like this, it was intoxicating in a way I never thought possible. She was looking up at me full of desire and lust, making my head spin. She looked hesitant, however, and withdrew slightly, giving her some space.

“Rick, please don’t be mad, I want this, I want you, but not here. N-Not like this,” she pleaded softly.

“Of course Nova,” I panted, returning to the driver seat and tossing her shirt back to her. My head was still spinning, in part from the drugs, but also her words. Words I’d been longing to hear for months.

“I want you.”

+Nova+

“We should still probably head to the Blickblarten System,” Rick told me, his voice still husky. I nodded in agreeance as he shifted out of hover and headed there. He still seemed lost in his own thoughts, but he was different from before, no longer as cold and distant, instead, he was far more inclined to even look at me again. The silence allowed me to slip into my own head.

Unity going after him, not a huge surprise but him resisting her while completely out of his mind? That was a different story. I’d seen how Ricks could get about their Novas, but I guess a part of me never expected it to be reflected in my Rick. I should’ve expected it though, considering what Rick W-236 had said about him.

“Your Rick is considered the Rogue Rick, rash and emotional.”

We landed on yet another vibrant planet, but where the last one had been mostly plant life, this one was filled with a bustling city. Tall skyscrapers lived up to their names, bearing logos in foreign languages. We parked the ship next to one of the large skyscrapers, Rick assuring me the walk would be worth it if it meant we had a ship to return to. Rick took my hand, leading me quickly through the city until we reached a seedier part of town.

“Stay close to me,” he murmured, tightening his grip on my hand.

“Rick, where are we?” I whispered nervously, as a creature with a bulbous head eyed me lecherously.

“This is Shingrap,” he explained, “I know a guy here, it should only take a minute.” He also seemed to have spotted the lecherous creature because he pulled out his pistol with his free hand and pulled me closer. We approached a burnt-out building and I stopped in front, eyeing it hesitantly. “Nova, it’s going to be okay, come on. Let’s get this over with,” Rick urged, watching behind us. The bulbous headed creature had been joined by his friend, edging ever closer toward us. Once we were safely in the building, Rick released my hand and sealed the door behind us. I tried to follow him as he climbed the stairs two to three at a time but my legs were nowhere near as long. He stopped a couple of flights ahead of me, leaning over the railing with a huff.

“I’m sorry my legs aren’t the length of my body?” I shot up at him as he glared down at me, smirking.

“Just hurry up Nova,” he sighed, leaning against the railing to wait. I caught up to him and he slowed his pace to allow me to keep up. We finally reached the top floor, both of us panting from the extreme amount of exercise. He knocked on the door in a specific pattern, very reminiscent of the knock Beth and I used for each other. A rusted peeker opened to reveal a very angry pair of eyes. They calmed at the sight of Rick and me and the door was pulled open to reveal…

Another fucking Rick. Jesus fucking christ.

“Another one? Aren’t you friends with anyone but yourself?” I asked darkly as this new Rick welcomed us across his threshold, eyeing me with that same wistful gaze Riq IV had for me. He was dressed in military garb, a deep gash marring his right eye.

“Ah, you have yourself a Nova,” he remarked, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just do our business so I can get out of here.” Rick directed me behind him, away from Scar Rick.

“N-No, it’s been years since I’ve seen a Nova. Come out here where I can see you, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you,” he insisted. Rick sighed, guiding me out from behind him for Scar to see. I blushed as Scar’s eyes coated me with bitter longing before Rick tucked me back behind him while he conducted his business. Scar gave Rick what looked like a wad of Monopoly money before Rick pulled a large crystal from god knows where in his lab coat before nodding and turning to leave. Scar was still watching me as Rick grabbed my hand. “W-Wait,” he stopped us.

“What do you want now?” Rick sighed impatiently.

“C-Can I talk to Nova for a moment? J-Just a moment, that’s all I ask,” Scar urged carefully, watching my Rick’s response. Rick didn’t respond, instead, he turned to me to indicate the decision was up to me.

“Wh-What’s up?” I inquired nervously as I approached him.

“I-I lost my Nova when we formed the Citadel,” he explained, “The federation kidnapped her to try to get information out of her and-” his voice hitched for a moment, and I knew what he needed. I wrapped my arms around the broken man in front of me. He gripped me tightly, burying his face in my hair as he sobbed gently. When we broke apart, he thanked me and I nodded. I returned to my Rick’s side, clasping his hand in mine as he opened a portal in front of us. Scar watched us through watery eyes as we disappeared on the other side.

“So why exactly couldn’t we have just portaled there from the get-go?” I asked irritably.

The portal dropped us next to the car. Rick climbed in, counting his monopoly money looking satisfied. “That was a Rick? You can’t just portal into a Rick in hiding’s safe house,” he explained, pocketing the money with one of his damn, know-it-all smirks. “You wanna go somewhere fun now?” he asked his smirk widening into a grin. I nodded hesitantly as he lifted off, rocketing away from the planet.

“That poor Rick,” I commented mournfully as he navigated. He glanced over at me, raising an eyebrow before shaking his head and smiling.

“You know why Ricks and Novas get along so well?” I shook my head, eager for him to continue. “Where a Morty is an IQ Cloak, Novas- well Novas offer a balance to a Ricks mental state. Y-Y-Y-You see, a Rick's mental state fluctuates between ‘I am a fucking GOD’ to ‘Everything is pointless’. A Nova offers a balance to that. It doesn’t always w-work, but with how even-tempered and rational Novas can be… i-i-it just works out. D-Does that make any fucking sense?” he finished nervously.

“I think so, Rick,” I smiled, resting my hand on his.

“Th-That’s why Ricks are so attached. It’s a chemical thing. I-I know I can be… difficult-”

“To say the least.”

“BUT, it’s why I have such a hard time leaving you alone.”

“R-Rick, I don’t know what to do about Ryan,” I admitted softly, “I don’t love him, I haven’t loved him in a very long time but... what if that’s what causes his rage to break? I don’t want to push the limits.”

“Nova, just let me kill him. I want to do it. It would be a fucking honor,” Rick assured me darkly.

“No Rick…”

“What I’m hearing here is, yes, Rick, do it, Rick, I won’t be mad if you do, Rick,” he grinned slyly.

“Seriously, there’s got to be another way,” I shoved him gently.

“There really isn’t one,” he told me regretfully, “Either you leave him and it doesn’t make him snap or it does. If he doesn’t, he gets to live his life as a docile little bird, or he dies. It’s that simple. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like there have been any problems yet.”

“Yeeaahh, about that,” I drew out nervously. He took a deep breath, before raising his eyebrows at me, waiting for me to continue. “Th-The night that he kicked me out, he was asking me to stop hanging out around you because I told him we’d had a bad adventure-”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“I told him we’d had a bad adventure,” I pressed on through his interruption, “and I told him, no, I liked hanging out with you and I think, even if only for a minute, his rage broke. He looked furious. Like he was going to kill me.”

Rick was quiet for a moment, considering my words. “Nova, don’t go home,” he told me, deathly serious.

“I’m going to have to see him again eventually,” I insisted, “There’s Madi to consider to ya know.”

“We’ll get Madi when she comes home, Summer will like having her BFF living with her,” he rationalized. “I’m serious Nova. When that dampener snaps- think of it like a bridge. A-all of that rage is going to flood out like fucking ocean.” He frantically ran his hand through his hair as he tried to contain his panic. His eyes lit up though, as a billboard appeared on a small dwarf planet. “Oh shit, we’re here!” he exclaimed, all previous panic seemingly erased.

“We’re… where?”

“BLIPS AND CHITZ!”

+Ch7: Shameful Metaphors+

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader

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my-creative-hell · 4 years

Text

Music (Teen au)

Grave and Hannah sit inside her room in the twin’s house, Iden was out for practice and they had a lab assignment to work on together, being lab partners. Hannah sits on the floor with her Braille laptop resting in her lap as Grave is lounging on her bed so she could see over the shorter girls shoulders easily as she types.

The project wasn’t ridiculous, a study on atoms and their makeup, and how they formed molecules and were the building blocks of everything in pure scientific and mathematical terms. An in depth study, if you will. But, there was a lot of work to be done, even between the two of them. Hannah had been working on it for the better part of a week, preventing her from sleeping as she was striving to create the best quality of work she could, researching at ungodly hours of the night instead.

“We are the science boi’s. Gonna… save… the worl. With s c i e n c e.” Grave flaps her hands around in a happy manner as she speaks, making Hannah snort through her nose as she can feel the breeze being created by Grave.

“I mean, maybe…” Hannah half answers, focusing more on what she was currently typing out onto the computer, trying to make sure she didn’t spell anything wrong by going too fast.

“Just a couple of smort boi’s. We’re very smart. Awesome dudes.” Grave smiles as she flaps her arms more, the breeze getting stronger for Hannah as she continues to type.

“I hope we’re smart, otherwise we’re gonna fail this paper.” Hannah says blandly, focusing on her typing once more.

“Yeah… if you don’t mind me asking, are you okay? You seemed kinda off these past few days and I-I just…” Grave sighs as she continues. “I just wanna know if something’s wrong.”

“Hm?” Hannah hums out as she types, talking a second to register what Grave had asked of her. “Nothing out of the ordinary, just really wanna get this finished.” She explains nonchalantly, her voice sounding neutral and blunt.

“I know, but…” Grave shrugs and lays down on the bed more. “I don’t want you to like, pass out in the middle of the thing. Like we go to present it and you just flop onto the floor and pass out… that sounds like it hurts a little. I don’t want that to happen to you.” Grave explains as Hannah listens to her slightly concerned voice, unphased.

“I’ll be fine, Grave. It’s not like I haven’t stayed up a bunch before. I’ll survive.” Hannah reasons as she types. She had done this shit all too often, and it barely messed her up anymore, though it hadn’t been a full week for a while, so it was a bit harder.

“But… that’s not good. I’ll do the rest of it you go to sleep.” Grave offers, Hannah snorting, a small smirk on her face as she types.

“I’m not tired Grave, trust me. Besides, I’m in the zone right now, I don’t wanna break it.” She reasons, which was true. Hannah had currently entered a steady workflow, and to break it would just annoy her at this point.

“Okay…” Grave huffs as she answers, allowing Hannah to continue working on the project, typing up all of the information they had jotted down.

“Sides, its not been that long…” Hannah tries to reason, though it kind of had, and she knew that. But worrying Grave meant her pestering Hannah about sleeping, and she didn’t want that.

“I don’t feel like that’s true, but okay I guess.” Grave says in a neutral tone as she watches Hannah, who frowns as she works.

“You sound annoyed, are you annoyed?” Hannah questions, pausing her typing for a moment as she questions Grave, unsure of the tone of voice she had used.

“No! I-I’m actually really concerned. Like, you don’t seem okay at all.” Grave explains, the worry a bit more obvious to Hannah in her voice now, making her stop her typing for a moment.

“How do I not seem okay?” She questions, confused. Though she couldn’t see herself, she was sure she looked okay, considering she always looked tired as hell, no matter how much she slept.

“I-I um…” Grave fiddles with her fingers as she struggles to answer. “I just… for some reason… I-I dunno how to explain it, b-but something felt wrong-” Grave tries, though Hannah still looks confused.

“I think I’ve been the same. I mean, I haven’t been super off, have I?” Hannah questions, turning her head towards Grave now as she asks.

“Yeah, not extremely… but its still noticeable.” Grave explains, Hannah nodding as she scrunches her face up.

“Well, I guess I haven’t stayed up this long in a bit, so maybe that’s why. Also running off of coffee does fun things I guess.” Hannah explains, shrugging nonchalantly as she talks.

“I almost set a dude on fire when I drank coffee. Well it wasn’t really coffee, it was a fuck ton of espresso shots, eighteen five hour energies and something else. I’m pretty sure I ascended into the astral plane.” Grave explains her story, making Hannah snort.

“That’s pretty impressive, not gonna lie.” Hannah admits. “Don’t think I’m quite there yet, just using it to stay alert and shit.” She explains, turning away from Grave again as she prepares to resume her typing.

“Makes sense, but if I cant get you to sleep now… can you like at l e a s t take a nap after you work for a few more minutes?” Grave asks Hannah, staring at her with puppy eyes she knew she couldn’t see. “Please? I can take over!” Hannah lets out a deflated sounding sigh in response.

“Grave… look, I’m fine. I really just wanna get this done so I can stop stressing about it.” Hannah reasons as she starts typing again.

“You don’t have to stress about it! I said I can do the rest.” Grave says as she pouts, crossing her arms as she watches Hannah rub her hands over her face.

“C’mon Grave, we haven’t got that much left, its fine…” Hannah almost groans out, looking more tired as she gets frustrated.

“It doesn’t matter, my fresh Cicada Honda civic broski! You need to r e s t. if not now, you rest the second you finish or else I’m gonna put impossible to thaw turkeys in your closet.” Grave threatens, making Hannah laugh, though it sounds very off.

“Sure, Grave. It’ll either be don’t today or tomorrow, depending on any new information…” Hannah explains as she works.

“T o m o r r o w??” Grave sighs, Hannah not saying anything in response, only nodding her head as she types. “Hhhhh.” Grave covers her face as she frowns. “Bad. This is b a d.” She complains.

“It’s fine, it could be worse.” Hannah reasons out, voice back to being blunt and uncaring.

“That doesn’t make it okay! Just because it can be so much worse doesn’t make the current situation alright.” Grave argues as she frowns down at Hannah, who shrugs.

“It makes it slightly more acceptable to me.” She deadpans. Grave makes a sound of concern in response, flailing her arms around her.

“Are you flapping? You sound like you are…” Hannah observes as she works, listening to Grave behind her.

“Yeah, but its not happy flapps!! Its c o n c e r n.” Grave emphasises as she speaks.

“I gathered. What are you so concerned about?” Hannah questions, raising an eyebrow as she works, though she knows Grave isn’t currently looking at her face.

“Sleeb!!!! You!!!! I’m concerned about you!!!!” Grave exclaims, making Hannah laugh again, sounding broken.

“Grave, I’ll sleep when it’s done. Until then I just have to get through, and I’ll be fine.” Hannah explains as she types. Grave frowns in response.

“But I can do the rest of it!!! I know what to write!!!” She exclaims in argument, Hannah sighing.

“Its fine Grave, I’m already doing it, and you’ve already helped a lot. You can’t force me to sleep, so just let me do what I’m doing.” Hannah curtly responds, not moving from typing on her laptop.

“Ugh… fine.” Grave pouts as she answers, almost making Hannah smile.

“Thanks…” Hannah trails off as she works, trying to get absorbed into the flow once again so she had a chance of finishing the work faster.

“…wanna listen to music?” Grave offers, making Hannah pause for a second before she continues typing.

“Music?” Hannah questions as she works, not quite sure how to respond. She liked music, but she never tended to listen to it while she worked, since it removed one of her remaining senses.

“Yeah, m u s i c.” Grave insists, Hannah thinking it over.

“I don’t normally listen to anything while I work, sides, don’t you wanna talk?” She questions as she types, cocking her head as she talks.

“God, you sound like such a mum.” Grave chuckles.

“How rude, show some respect.” Hannah jokes lightly as she works, a small smirk on her face.

“Oh, I’m t e r r i b l y sorry, mother. How shall you e v e r forgive me?” Grave puts on a snobby rich guy voice as she talks, making Hannah snort.

“Alright, no need to be an ass.” She smirks as she jokes around, making Grave laugh.

“Sorry, I had to do my best ‘rich asshole’ impression or else it would simply be a bit b l e h.” Grave explains, making Hannah smile slightly.

“That’s fair enough, it was pretty good.” Hannah admits with a smile as she listens to Grave.

“Thank you, I try my best!” Grave says in a proud voice.

“That doesn’t surprise me…” Hannah laughs, sounding slightly happier than before.

“I’m glad it doesn’t!” Grave flaps her arms around a bit. “Heyyy Hannah, guess what?” Grave asks in a pitched voice.

“What, Grave?” Hannah asks in a neutral voice as she works. She had a knack for always sounding annoyed, but Grave knew her well enough to know she just sounded like that.

“You!!! Are!!! Rad!!! Radder than ten whole cakes!!!!!” Grave exclaims, making Hannah smirk.

“That’s a lot of cake. You’re pretty rad yourself.” Hannah admits as she focuses on typing.

“I am?” Grave questions, surprised, making Hannah snort lightly.

“Yeah, least I think so.” She shrugs, though a small smile plays at her lips as she pauses in her work to compliment Grave.

“Thank!!! You!!!” Grave flaps her arms around more and starts tapping her feet onto the bed in happiness.

“Oh my, calm down, you’re gonna smack me. But you’re welcome.” Hannah smiles as she hears the noises coming from Grave in her excitement and happiness. Grave smiles largely as she stops her flapping.

“Okay, sorry. But really, would you like a m u s i c? its not rude cuz I’ll be listening to some music too!” Grave reassures, Hannah pausing.

“You sure?” She questions, tilting her head towards Grave as she asks.

“Positive.” Grave assures Hannah firmly, making her smirk.

“Okay then, I’ll accept some music.” Hannah yields, her voice lighter and jokier as she speaks. Grave carefully hands her the headphones.

“Happy borthmas, hav music maker.” Grave says in a jovial voice, making Hannah snicker.

“Thanks, you weirdo.” Hannah jokes as she takes the headphones. She puts them on, and if she could have said something, she would. Her brain instantly felt fuzzy and wrong, like it was being shut off by something, even though the headphones didn’t seem to be doing anything yet. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for her mind to completely shut off, Hannah collapsing and falling sideways onto the floor of her room, her laptop being knocked off of her as she falls. It takes Grave a few seconds to process what just happened before she reacts.

“fuCK-” She panics as Hannah lays unconscious on the floor. Grave moves quickly, getting down beside Hannah, quickly pressing her fingers against her neck to check for a pulse, making sure Hannah was still alive. She manages to find one, and it feels normal as it pulses against Grave’s fingers.

“Good. Nice. That’s… good… hh shit.” Grave panics as she hovers over Hannah on the floor. Grave pulls out her phone, calling Iden, waiting in a panic for him to answer.

“Grave? You okay?” The voice of Iden floods through the phone as he answers, sounding confused, with an edge of concern.

“I’m fine, but we’ve run into a minor problem-” Grave admits, Iden instantly growing more concerned.

“Problem? Whats happened?” Iden asks, the concern more evident in his voice as he talks on the phone, wandering farther away from the practice he was participating in.

“Hannah passed out.” Grave says simply, Iden making a strangled noise on the other end.

“She what?!” He exclaims worriedly, voice strained and coarse with immediate stress.

“Yeah, I um… I-I don’t know why. But she’s breathing okay-” Grave reassures, a small sigh of relief coming from Iden.

“Okay, at least she’s breathing.” Iden reassures himself, thinking for a moment. “Did she do anything weird?” He questions in a serious voice.

“No. She just pa-o h.” Grave realises something, mentally hitting herself.

“Oh? Whats oh?” Iden asks, worry spiking again as he thinks over the many possibilities.

“The headphones. I gave her headphones and she passed out.” Grave explains, only confusing and worrying Iden more.

“Headphones?” He questions, sounding utterly lost with the situation that was playing out over the phone.

“Yeah, headphones…” Grave sighs. “Okay, could you come up here?” Grave asks, listening as Iden immediately starts moving.

“Yeah, course I can. Give me like ten minutes, okay?” He asks, already signalling to his teammates that he had to leave and leave now.

“Okay!” Grave exclaims gently, listening to Iden shift around.

“I’ll be there in ten, make sure she’s alright…” Iden hangs up the phone, presumably getting ready to leave and picking up his gear for the walk back to the twins house, though he would likely run it.

“Okay…” Grave sits in silence besides Hannah, who looks very tired now that she could see her properly.

“It’s good that you’re finally sleeping…” Grave smiles a bit as she looks at Hannah, who looked more peaceful than she had ever really seen her as a teen.

Grave gently picks Hannah up, the smaller teen not weighing a ridiculous amount, placing her carefully on the bed and pulling the headphones off of her head as she does so. Grave sits with Hannah until she hears the downstairs door unlock, indicating Iden had returned to the house.

“Grave?” He calls out from downstairs, sounding slightly concerned as he puts his stuff down in the living room, throwing it onto the sofa.

“Yeah. I’m… here.” Grave steps out of the room, Iden coming up the stairs towards her, looking concerned.

“Okay, this is fine, is she okay?” He questions as he reaches Grave.

“Yeah! She sleebin.” Grave elaborates, making Iden huff as he pinches his nose.

“My question is why and how, because I know she didn’t do it on her own…” Iden explains as he looks at Grave, knowing Hannah was way too stubborn to be convinced to sleep.

“The h e a d p h o n e s.” Grave insists as she gestures towards them where they lay in the room.

“You managed to make a pair of headphones that do that?” Iden questions, looking exasperated.

“…” Grave looks down at her feet and mutters the next words. “Yeah.” She admits, Iden frowning.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t mean to do this, otherwise you are in deep shit.” He explains in a slightly stern voice, looking down at Grave, though concern still tugged at his features.

“Yeah, I gave her the wrong ones…” Grave admits. Iden sighs, running his hands over his face in a tired manner.

“This isn’t good, you know that right?” He questions, looking into the room at his twin, his expression twisted and worried.

“Yeah, I-I know… I wouldn’t have said anything if it was alright…” Grave agrees, watching as Iden walks into the room, sitting on the floor.

“She’s gonna freak out… shit.” Iden swears, something he never did. He left all of that to his twin, not liking the way it sounded when he said it.

“Sorry.” Grave takes the laptop off of the floor, making sure it still worked and placing it on her lap as soon as she’s sure it does.

“It’s not your fault, I doubt she even told you enough to know why she’s gonna freak out, did she?” Iden questions, huffing as he puts his head in his hands on the floor, exhausted.

“She…” Grave shakes her head. “She didn’t.” She admit, Iden sighing and leaning his head further into his hands.

“Of course she didn’t… so you cant even know the reality of the situation, that’s not fair.” He explains, sounding frustrated and exasperated. He didn’t blame Hannah, nor was he mad at her, but Grave couldn’t have known what was so wrong about this entire thing, and that wasn’t fair to anyone.

“I mean, if she didn’t tell me that probably means she didn’t want me to know, so that’s fine. I don’t wanna know something she didn’t want me to… if that makes sense.” Grave shrugs.

“She was planning on mentioning it, she spoke to me about it, asked it I was okay with it. I guess she hadn’t figured out when to do it. But she did want you to know.” Iden explains gently, raising his head to look at Grave with a more serious expression.

“Oh…” Grave mumbles as she looks down at the keyboard of the laptop. “Well I can wait until she wakes up for that.” She reasons, Iden smiling sadly.

“I wouldn’t expect her to want to talk to you…” He explains in a gentle voice, not wanting to make Grave upset, but needing her to know the truth.

“I…” Grave nods in acceptance. “Good point.” She admits, Iden coming to sit next to her.

“Unfortunately…” He agrees sadly, a small smile pressed onto his face.

“It’s understandable though, so I’m not really disappointed. Just wish I didn’t ask if she wanted some music…” Grave trails off, Iden looking concerned and worried for her.

“You didn’t mean to, and you couldn’t have known. But the unfortunate reality is you, accident or no, put a traumatised person into a state of complete vulnerability they’re afraid of, against their will.” Iden explains gently, keeping his voice low and soft.

Grave looks at him, looking like she wanted to say something, but had no idea of what she could even say or how she could respond to what Iden had just told her, her face reading this loud and clear, making Iden smile sadly, giving her a sideways hug.

“I know, it’s harsh… I don’t want to upset you, that’s the least of my intentions. But, we’ve had a rough life, and we’re both still pretty messed up. Hannah might just need some time…” Iden explains in a gentle and soft voice as he hugs Grave.

“You didn’t upset me, Iden. I just had no idea what to say.” Grave chuckles and hugs Iden back. “But that’s understandable… sorry life was an ass to you.”

“It’s okay, we got out this year, now it’s just about dealing with it…” Iden smiles gently.

“I’m glad you got out…” Grave tightens her hug, making Iden smile.

“We were lucky the owner of this house knew us and allowed us to rent off the books.” Iden explains as he smiles, his gratitude evident in his voice.

“That’s good!! Glad they weren’t a shart-face.” Grave muses, making Iden laugh.

“Me too…” He agrees as he hugs the smaller girl close to him, watching as Grave finishes the work Hannah had been doing for her so she wouldn’t have to stress when she woke up in about eight hours.

The next day when Grave goes to school and heads into their shared lab class, she can see Hannah sitting at her normal desk with her laptop in front of her as normal, though something was different. Hannah normally wore ear buds to listen to her recorded lessons, allowing her to make notes at her own pace, since she couldn’t see what was written on the board in front of her. But normally, she would only put in one ear bud in case Grave wanted to chat, though today both of them were in, blocking out the world around Hannah.

Grave sighs gently, sitting down at her own desk beside Hannah. She wants desperately to speak to the other girl, to apologise to her, but she knew it probably wouldn’t end well, so she stay silent as Hannah registers her sitting down, never turning away from typing on her laptop as she plays through one of her lessons, still looking tired, worn out and stressed. Grave frowns, but looks at the board as the lesson starts, paying attention to the words the teacher was saying.

Grave watches silently throughout the day as Hannah avoids her, not speaking a word to anyone, not even the teachers, simply completing her work and leaving the lessons, eating alone and eventually, heading home alone, never interacting with Grave. And Grave let her. She didn’t want to upset Hannah anymore than had already been done, so she left her alone, despite how much she didn’t want to.

The next day, Hannah comes in the same way, alone and silent. She looked more tired and worn out, not engaging with anyone at all, simply putting her ear buds in and working in silence, refusing to speak at this point. Grave continues as she had the day before, feeling worse about the situation as she watches Hannah avoid almost everyone, staying by herself all day, even to eat. She left school alone again, not even saying goodbye of acknowledging Grave.

The third day, Hannah looks a little worse. She’s sitting in class as normal when Grave walks in and takes her seat next to her, her ear buds in her ears, though she handy turned them on yet, unbeknownst to her. The class was noisy as they waited on the teacher, and it was getting to Hannah, the tiredness she felt not helping, clawing at the inside of her brain and making it feel itchy and wrong. Everything that was being said melted inside her brain, being turned into pointless white noise that fogged her thoughts, and made her panic, as it effectively blocked off the most useful sense she had left. After a couple of minutes, Hannah felt like she would either explode or cry if she didn’t move, and she wasn’t about to let everyone see that. Without speaking a word, she pushes her chair out from her desk, leaving the room silently. Grave follows her out of the room, watching as she goes into the single disabled toilet, since she never used the normal toilets, finding them way too cluttered and annoying in her blindness, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Um… look, I-I came to apologize. You don’t have to respond, that’s… that’s fine. I didn’t mean to put you to sleep. I-I know you don’t like being vulnerable around other people and… sorry.” Grave apologises as she stands outside the door of the stall. Hannah doesn’t respond, making Grave think at first that she doesn’t want to answer, but after a few seconds, she can hear the panicked breathing coming from inside the stall, that was preventing Hannah from talking to her.

“Hannah?” Grave says softly as she lightly knocks on the door of the stall. Hannah doesn’t answer using words, but a whimper like whine can be heard through the door.

“Can…” Grave hesitates before continuing. “C-Can you open the door please?” Grave asks, listening for Hannah behind the door. There’s a long pause, but eventually Grave can hear shifting in the larger stall, the lock beginning to shake as Hannah unlocks the door so Grave can come in.

“Thank you.” Grave says in a smaller voice as she gently pushes open the door to the stall. Hannah has pushed herself against the wall, shaking, and her head on her knees, not allowing Grave to see her face with her hands covering her ears due to over stimulation.

Grave, not knowing what to do or say, sits close to Hannah in silence. Hannah’s ears are still ringing and noises don’t seem to be picked up as well as they should, making the world she knew blurred and distorted. The hands on her head automatically start to go at her skin a little, her cut down nails scratching at her skin to create a sensation to distract from what was going on in her head.

Grave gently pulls Hannah’s hands away from her head to prevent her form hurting herself, holding onto them as Hannah resists slightly, sounding panicked. Grave keeps her grip gentle and kind, trying not to stress her out even more, but knowing she cant allow her to potentially injure herself.

“Um… would you like… head touchies?” Grave asks in a soft voice, watching as Hannah leans back off of her knee’s slightly, allowing Grave to see her tear stained and tired face, giving her a very small nod to indicate she was okay with that.

Grave gently pushes their foreheads together, Hannah accepting the gentle touch as she continues to shake a little, trying to steady her breathing. After a minute, Hannah proceeds to slump into Grave, falling gently on her shoulder. Grave gently hugs Hannah, feeling slightly worried at how Hannah had fallen onto her, Hannah leaning into Grave, not talking.

“Cool, you aren’t dead.” Grave mutters gently, the worry being thrown from her mind as she smiles slightly. Hannah’s arms gently snake around Grave as she presses her face into Grave’s shoulder as she gently shakes, clinging onto Grave in a way Hannah had never done before. This makes Grave’s smile get bigger, her feet beginning to tap gently on the floor as Hannah starts to calm down, her shaking decreasing and her hearing coming back to her as she relaxes into the hug, shuffling closer to Grave, who feels happy that she’s starting to feel better.

“Sorry for dragging you in here…” Hannah says in a small voice as she clings to Grave, felling well enough to speak again, though it’s slightly shaky.

“You didn’t drag me in here, silly… and its fine.” Grave reassures Hannah as she gently hugs her.

“Sorry for ignoring you…” Hannah apologises, sounding more genuinely upset than Grave had ever heard her, the façade of the normal, neutral Hannah completely off now.

“It’s understandable… I’m just glad you’re okay now…” Grave reassures, making Hannah feel a little better.

“I’m fucking tired though…” Hannah jokes, though she does sound it, her voice low and quiet.

“That’s also understandable, your day kinda s u c k e d.” Grave reasons.

“Little bit…” Hannah smiles slightly as she pulls away from Grave, wiping her face. “Okay, maybe a lot…” She admits, Grave nodding.

“Yeah… but at least its kinda better now, right?” She reasons, Hannah smiling again.

“Yeah, little bit…” She admits, though she still looks exhausted.

“Good! Do you uh… do you wanna leave? We can just say that you went to like the hospital or something.” Grave offers, Hannah sighing.

“Honestly, yeah, I’m not gonna get anything done anyway, and I could use some sleep I think…” Hannah admits, a small smirk on her face.

“F u c k y e a h, close them eyeballs and enter your free trial of no brain work-” Grave jokes, making Hannah laugh genuinely.

“You’re such a weirdo.” She comments in a lighter voice as she smiles.

“I know, but so are you. Just two weirdo’s sittin in a room of rest.” Grave replies in a similar jokey fashion, making Hannah grin gently as she allows Grave to help her up off of the floor. A quick call to Iden ensured he would pick up their bags after class, as well as Hannah’s laptop, so they could walk back to the twins home uninterrupted to get some rest and ignore their responsibilities for one day.

#writing with friends #writing #my writing #original writing #not my oc #others ocs #original characters #original story #teen au #alternate universe #tw trauma #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack #sleepisafuckinglie #House of Hell

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fandomoblivion · 6 years

Text

And There She Was (Part 2)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, kind of Billy Hargrove x Henderson!Reader but not totally

Request: can u do a cute steve harrington x henderson ! reader? idrc what it is im just in the mood for something steve lol

Summary: (Y/N) Henderson has lived all her life pining after Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington: the athlete. Steve Harrington: the King of Hawkins. Steve Harrington: the player. Steve Harrington: the boyfriend of her best friend. But the thing is, when they’re forced to be together while fighting other-worldly creatures… stuff goes down. But hey, you know what they say. Shit happens.

Warnings: Swearing, violence

Word Count: 2,615

Notes: UH. THE S3 TEASER TRAILER. STEVE. UGH BE STILL MY HEART.

prologue / part one

You rolled your eyes as Dustin got into your car, completely dressed in Ghostbusters gear. “Dustin, nobody dresses up for Halloween at school.”

“Maybe not in high school, Miss “I’m-too-cool-for-a-costume.”

“I never said that.”

“But we do in middle school.”

“Did Mom get pictures?” You asked, changing the subject. He nodded. “Of course she did. She takes Halloween way too seriously.”

“It’s a fun holiday!” Dustin protested.

“Shut up, Stantz. We’re here.” You said, pulling into the middle school’s parking lot. “Get out. And, uh, have a great day. Happy Halloween… and all that crap.” You said, making Dustin laugh and close the car door behind him. As you drove off, you noticed that none of the other kids were wearing costumes. “Fuck.” You mumbled, but there was no way you could help him. You had to get yourself to class.

You walked into the lunchroom, Billy trailing behind you. The night before had been… weird, to say the least.

He had picked you up and the two of you went to a diner where he insisted on buying the two of you burgers and fries. You opted out, just ordering a milkshake, and you told him all about Hawkins. At least, you tried to. He cut you off before you could get a full thought out and started talking about himself and why he was “drawn to you.” Pfft. What a smooth-talking, greasy-haired, foul-mouthed asshole. But…

You needed to get your mind off of Steve.

So you played along.

Sure, some would call what you were doing “leading him on,” but anyone who knew you knew you didn’t like him. Just… he didn’t know.

You knew none of this was logical. You knew it was bad. You knew it was immoral. And yet, you couldn’t handle the thought of facing school alone for much longer.

You started to walk over to Jonathan, when Billy pulled you back by your hand. “Do you really want to sit with that photography nerd? C’mon, let’s just ditch. We can go for a smoke out back.”

You scrunched up your nose. “I don’t smoke.”

“Yeah, but I do. So come on.” You huffed and reluctantly followed him to the back of the cafeteria building.

On the way, Jonathan caught your eye. He looked from you to Billy, and back to you, with a quizzical look on his face. “Really?” He mouthed out. You shrugged and looked away.

“I’m driving you home after school.” Billy said outside.

You scowled. “My car is here.”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll drive you to school tomorrow so you can pick it up.”

You looked at him, studying how he was leaning against the brick wall. “No. I want to drive myself home.”

He looked at you, and let out a puff of smoke.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Sweet Pea. Just know that you’ve gotta make it up to me somehow.” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You quickly pulled away and started cleaning your glasses on your sweater.

“What, so you just ain’t gonna say anything?”

You looked up. “How am I supposed to respond to that?”

He leaned in to your face, real close. “You’re supposed to fuck me, right?”

At this your breathing hitched. Like, really, dude? Gee, way to make you swoon.

You scoffed and looked around. Nobody was outside to help you. Your heart was now pounding. “No, I’m not screwing you.” You shoved his arm off of you once more and stormed back into the cafeteria, sitting down across from Jonathan, and now Nancy and Steve.

“(Y/N), what was that all about?” Jonathan asked you.

“What was what about?” Nancy asked.

You and Jonathan shared a look. You stole a fry from Jonathan’s plate and said, “Nothing,” before shooting Jon a glance that said, “We’ll talk later.” He nodded.

Nancy and Steve looked at each other, confused.

That night, you drove to the Wheeler house with Dustin and watched as he got out of the car. The entire time from when you picked him up from school until now was filled with ranting about MadMax, about how nobody else dressed up, and about how Mike and Lucas were bickering before school about who was who in their Ghostbusters group.

You parked your car and got out, dressed in your last-minute costume that Dustin had forced you to get.

You took an old dress of your mother’s--a long, red dress with long sleeves, cut the dress to be a decent length, added a strip of black around the neckline and the hem, and finally you ironed on an iconic Starship Enterprise logo.

You pulled on a pair of tall black boots, teased your hair into a bun for the gods, and put on some “groovy” makeup to finish the look.

“There, you happy now, Little Dude?”

You had asked Dustin. He clapped his hands together excitedly. “Yes! I am! You’ve finally gotten into the Halloween spirit!”

You got out of your car and spotted Jonathan. You waved, and he got out of his car. Upon seeing your costume, Jonathan’s face broke into a grin. “Wow, how long did it take your mom to convince you to wear that?”

You glared at him. “It was Dustin. I felt bad about the MadMax thing and let him dress me up. He picked Lieutenant Uhura.”

Jonathan laughed. “Well you look nice.” He paused and the two of you watched the kids interact. “You’re a really great sibling, (Y/N).”

You smiled, seeing the curly-haired dork annoy the others with his Chewbacca impression. “I try my best. He’s an idiot, but I love him.”

Jonathan gave you a sideways glance. “You still have to tell me what happened at school. I mean, when you came back your cheeks was all red and your eyes were all watery and-” he must have noticed you had trained your focus onto tugging down your skirt in an effort for it to cover more, for he stopped and said, “sorry.”

“So… Dustin is making me stay with him for at least an hour-”

“(Y/N)!” You were cut off by your little brother.

“Yeah, Little Dude?”

“You can go!”

You and Jonathan shared a smile. “R-Really, Dustin? You don’t want me to-”

“No no! If Jonathan’s not staying you don’t have to.”

You smiled. “Thanks, kid.”

“Want a ride to the party? Nancy and Steve are already there, I think.”

You looked at your parked car, sitting in front of the Wheeler household. “I’ll get my car later. Sure. Thanks, Jon.” He nodded with a small smile.

The two of you got into Jonathan’s car, but he didn’t start it up right away. He sat there, looking at you, clearly waiting for you to tell him what happened.

You sighed. “You know that new guy, Billy Hargrove?” He nodded. “Well he and I went out on a date the night of his first day at school.”

Jonathan scowled. “What? Why?” You bit your lower lip and didn’t say anything, but he understood. “Oh. Steve.” You nodded. “So what happened at lunch?”

“He was being a dick. So I got mad at him. But I… I feel like… I feel like he’s the only way to get my mind off Steve,” you said, your brows furrowed and your eyes focused again on tugging down your skirt, even though you were sitting down.

This was when Jonathan noticed your tick. Well, not really a medical tick, but a nervous habit you had whenever you were uncomfortable. The two of you still didn’t know each other very well, but he just acquired a bit more knowledge about you. Then he noticed you exhibited your “tick” quite often. Whenever Steve said something cute to Nancy, you were tugging on your sleeves in an effort to make them longer, or adjusting your shirt to heighten the collar. You were trying to hide.

“Well if it’s hurting you it’s not worth it.” He said after a bit of silence, finally starting up the car as well.

“But I think it’s hurting me more without Billy.”

“Listen, (Y/N). I don’t like Billy. He seems like an asshole. So I’m gonna advocate for you to stay single, or at least to stay away from him. But I can’t really stop you… so just…” He glanced at you, nodding briefly and saying, “Be careful, yeah?” before looking back at the road.

You blinked and reached to push your glasses up before remembering that it was once of the (very few) times you were wearing contacts.

“Yeah. I will.”

When Jonathan pulled up to the party, the first thing you noticed was the music. How could you not? I mean, you heard it from nearly two blocks away. The next thing you noticed were the people. There were so many people, way more than you were used to being around at one time.

The two of you got out of the car and went inside, sticking together and looking around for Nancy.

“That’s how you do it, Hawkins! That’s how you do it!” You heard someone yell as they entered in behind you. People were chanting his name. You smelled the now familiar scent of cigarette smoke and and a new scent--the unmistakable scent of beer--waft your way. You felt an arm sling around your waist as the person slurred a, “Hey, Sweet Pea. Glad you could make it. You look… hot.”

You lost Jonathan in the crowd as Billy pulled you somewhere, the two of you flanked by his goons. “We got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington.” Shit.

You looked up and saw Nancy and Steve talking, leaning against a wall, dressed in a couple’s costume. Of course. Billy’s friends got in Steve’s face about the keg, but the two of them were watching you. You had Billy’s arm around your waist, and you just realized that someone shoved a red solo cup filled with… something… into your hand. Steve took off his sunglasses as Nancy walked away, an annoyed look on her face.

Steve was about to say something when Nancy took off. He saw her walk away, and he looked at you and shrugged, before following her.

“Yeah, that’s right, Harrington. Walk away.” One of the guys standing with you and Billy said.

“Hey, uh, what’s in this?” You asked Billy, swirling your drink around in your cup. The red liquid was opaque, and it reeked of alcohol.

“Some guys are calling it ‘Pure Fuel.’ I call it bullshit. Let’s get you a real drink.” Billy said, taking your cup. You watched on as he took a bottle of Fireball whiskey from someone and filled your cup with it, cutting it with some Surge energy drink. He handed it to you. “It’s a new kind of whiskey. The brand came out this year, I think. But whatever, it’s good as shit, so drink it.”

You took a sip and immediately started stifling a cough. “Oh… shit.”

Billy smirked. “Yeah.”

You looked over and saw Steve and Nancy dancing amidst the crowd, then Nancy pulled Steve in for a kiss. You felt your chest tighten and you turned back to Billy. You grabbed his wrist and led him to sit on the kitchen counter, right near Nancy and Steve. You didn’t know what you were doing; the alcohol that you had now downed had made you mind fuzzy.

From Jonathan’s point of view, he just saw you straddling Billy, kissing him right where you knew Nancy and Steve would see you. But it didn’t make sense to him, since he knew your goal was never to make them jealous. Why would it make them jealous? Nancy didn’t like Billy and Steve… Steve didn’t like you.

It was just something dumb you had thought up. But when Jonathan saw you, he went over to you and Billy and pulled you off of him. You stumbled a bit, and he noticed your eyes were hazy.

“(Y/N), come on. You’re really drunk. How many drinks have you had?”

“I just asked Billy to keep ‘em coming. A-And he did. So…” Your speech was slurred, and Billy was drumming his fingers on the tile that he was sitting on, clearly impatient. “You can go now, Johnny. Go find Nance!”

Jonathan got closer to you and dropped his voice so Billy couldn’t hear him. “Listen, (Y/N). I really think you should come with me-”

“Jonathan, you said you’d let me get my mind off of Steve. So let me.”

You could see the cogs working in Jon’s head while he weighed out the different scenarios that could happen. “Fine.” He said finally. “It’s just a party. I’m taking you home tonight, though. Promise?” You nodded.

You looked back at the crowd where Nancy and Steve just were, but you saw that they had moved to the drink table again. They were arguing over something, and within a second Steve and Nancy had managed to spill her drink all over her top. You just stood there, silently watching, before Billy clapped a hand onto your shoulder. “Serves him right. Fuckin’ ‘King Steve’ bullshit.”

You turned back around and saw Billy standing now, right up behind you. You pressed your lips to his as the crowd’s mood rose again, matching the music of Depeche Mode in the background.

A few minutes passed, and you were still with Billy, drinking and dancing, drinking and kissing, drinking and… well, drinking. Right when something by Kim Wilde came on, you were shoved into Billy’s chest by someone trying to get through the crowd. You turned around and saw Steve, scowling, pushing his way through everyone.

“Billy, I’ll… be right back.”

You followed Steve outside and watched as he got into his car. He wasted no time in peeling away from his parking spot and leaving.

That was when you knew this night was going to take a turn for the worse.

You turned around and saw Jonathan leaving with Nancy stumbling next to him. “Hey, is everything okay?” You called out, running--you didn’t know how you managed not to trip on the way--up to them. Jonathan was helping Nancy into the passenger seat of his car. “You’re my ride home, Jon. A-Are we leaving? ‘Cause I’ll go tell Billy and-”

Jonathan closed Nancy’s door and scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, (Y/N). I need to take Nancy home.”

“B-But my car is parked in front of her house. Can’t you-”

“I need to help her. She’ll barely be able to get to her doorstep, much less to her room without her parents noticing.”

“Jon, I can help-”

“Just… Billy can take you home, right?”

You tugged at your collar. “O-Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I guess he-”

“Great. Perfect. Thanks, (Y/N).” He said, before getting into his car and shutting the door. You smiled slightly and waved at him through his window, watching him drive away, into the dark night.

You stood there, unsure of how to get home.

You lived kind of far away, and your car was far away, too. Your feet would kill you if you walked. You didn’t want to ask Billy, because you knew he’d try to make some sort of disgusting move on you beyond kissing. You couldn’t call your mom and let her know you had left Dustin alone. You knew Dustin would be home and asleep by now, and there was no way he could even help you. You couldn’t ask someone at the party to drive you home, since you didn’t really know anyone there, and you didn’t trust anyone enough to spend time in their car with them, drunk and alone.

You didn’t know what to do.

So you took off your shoes, tears welling in your eyes, and started walking home.

Tag List (let me know if I forgot you or if you want to be added!)

@alonewolfsblog . @harringtonwife . @highly-uncomfortable-titles . @lilithmouse . @lovingcupcake51002 . @natpete . @slythergirlimagines . @whataloadofmalarkey

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remywrites5 · 6 years

Note

Hi~ so I just found this and ended up binge reading everything. I pretty sure I cried just a bit when I got down to the very last of it and then I realized, ByTheGodstheyhaveaAO3 and fangirl squealed. I blame you for the awkward talk I had with my brother at 5:30 in the morning. Also Iloveyousomuchyourwritingisgorgeousimgushingineedtostop. I'd really appreciate a highschool au where one ask another out in front of everyone at a pep rally (your choice of ship) that's if your doing props.

Hi! You’re so sweet! Thank you so much for this adorable message. I’ll try my best, it’s been a while since I wrote fanfic but this just sounded so cute I couldn’t help it.

——————————–

Remus had never been the most attentive student in class. His mind had a tendency to wander and it usually got him into trouble, unlike his three friends that were usually getting into trouble because of the stupid things they did. Still, finding himself alone in homeroom was a new low and he couldn’t help feeling just a bit annoyed that none of his friends had bothered to mention the bell had rung.

He quickly gathered up his books, mumbling to himself about why he spent time with such selfish bastards, and trying to think of a good excuse to tell his professor for his next lecture.

“Remus!”

Remus blew his hair out of his eyes and glanced up to see Lily standing in the doorway. He gave a small smile and thanked god that at least one of his friends wasn’t a selfish asshole. Although a new addition to their group, Lily was already the voice of reason. Remus had tried to be that but Sirius and James were like forces of nature, there was no stopping them once they got an idea into their heads.

“The assembly is starting,” Lily reminded him, tapping her foot impatiently. “What are you doing still sitting here?”

“Nothing,” Remus said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “Just thinking is all.”

“Well as nice as it is to know someone in your group has a brain, we’re going to be late!” Lily walked determinedly over to Remus and grabbed him by the sleeve, tugging him towards the gym.

“Where are the others anyway?”

“How would I know?”

“You are dating James after all,” Remus reminded her and he tried to keep up and not trip over his own feet.

“Trying to keep tabs on James Potter would be as hopeless as trying to drink upside down,” Lily remarked, finally letting go of Remus’ sleeve once she noticed how much he was struggling. “I mean, you must have some idea of that with Sirius.”

Remus blushed down to his neck. “That’s different,” he insisted, straightening his jumper. “Sirius and I are just friends. I’m not in charge of what he does and he wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lily said, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. “You two have sleepovers for Christ’s sake.”

“They’re not sleepovers,” Remus responded defensively. “Sirius just hates being home so he crashes at my house. Nothing happens. We’re not like that.”

“No?” Lily inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. “So you’re telling me you don’t have feelings for Sirius.”

“Of course I have feelings for Sirius,” Remus said with a sigh. “Friendship and caring and all that stuff. That’s it.”

“Does he know that?” Lily asked with a chuckle. “What good friends you are?”

“I’m sure he does,” Remus answered, biting his lip. It wasn’t like they had long conversations about feelings. If Remus even tried to bring up emotions around Sirius, Sirius would probably hit him. Sure, there had been a few nights together where Remus thought something might happen between them but it had always gone nowhere. It was for the best anyway. Remus could never imagine dating someone like Sirius Black.

Sirius Black was the first friend Remus ever made at school. Remus had barely spoken the first few weeks after his family had moved to London from Scotland. He’d been so nervous to be in a new school that was much bigger than his old one. He’d kept to himself and kept his head down, lost in daydreams of being anywhere else.

Sirius had come up to him in the library and sat down across from him. “Do you need a friend?” he’d asked so bluntly that it had stunned Remus for a good minute. Finally Remus had answered yes and that had been the end of it. It turned out that Sirius and James Potter were a package deal and Remus got two friends in the bargain. Soon after Peter Pettigrew began hanging out with them as well and their little group was formed. Then, after years of pestering her, Lily Evans had finally agreed to go out with James and had become and honorary member of the group.

And despite the fact that James and Peter had been great friends over the years, Remus had always felt closest to Sirius. He could never forget that dark-haired eleven-year-old boy that had offered to be his friend for no other reason than he could tell how much Remus needed one.

As they finally entered the gym, the entire place was already packed with the entire school. It gave Remus anxiety just looking at that many people. The only seats left were two at the very front, so Lily and Remus shuffled over and sat quietly.

The moment they sat, the lights turned off and a hush fell over the gym. Remus was just about to turn to Lily and ask what was going on when a spotlight turned on and shone in the middle of the gym and standing under the brilliant light was none other than Sirius Black.

“What the fuck?” Remus whispered under his breath as he watched his best friend’s face break out into a huge grin. “No, no, no, no, no,” Remus said over and over as he got a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said, putting his hand on his knee in sympathy. “I told him not to do this.”

“Do what?’ Remus asked, feeling every muscle in his body tighten in fear. “What’s he doing?”

As if on cue, Sirius rose a microphone to his lips and began to sing. “When your legs don’t work like they used to before…”

Remus felt his breath catch as Sirius looked right at him as he sang. Remus reached blindly for Lily’s hand and squeezed it tightly, hoping this wasn’t really happening, that his best friend wasn’t serenading him in front of the entire school with an Ed Sheehan song.

Sirius sang soulfully as he got more and more into the song. As he finished the chorus, the lights changed as did the music. The beat picked up and the lights became more colorful while two spotlights joined the one of Sirius, one on James and the other on Peter. “So tell me what you want, what you really really want!” James sang, dancing under his spotlight.

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want!” Sirius responded, doing the same dance.

“So tell me what you want, what you really really want,” Peter said, joining in but not quite as gracefully as Sirius and James.

“I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I really really really wanna zigga zig ah!” Sirius said, dropping down into a split that made the entire gym roar with applause and shouts.

Beside him, Lily was practically dying laughing as she watched her boyfriend shimmy and shake his tall, gangly body. But Remus could barely take his eyes off Sirius who made every step look like pure sex. Girls behind Remus were shouting Sirius’ name and Remus felt like he was in an actual nightmare.

The lights went out again and the music stopped. Remus closed his eyes and prayed whatever Sirius was doing was over. But instead the lights came back on and Sirius, James and Peter were joined by the cheerleading squad.

“Give me an R!” Sirius shouted, lifting his arms up to the crowd.

“R!”

“Give me and E!”

“E!”

“Give me an M!”

“M!”

“Give me a U!”

“U!”

“Give me a S!”

“S!”

“What does it spell?” Sirius shouted, pointing right at Remus.

“Remus!” the crowd shouted back, everyone turning to look where Sirius was pointing.

Remus ducked his head and felt his heart begin racing. He hated having everyone’s eyes on him, he hated the attention. Just what exactly was Sirius doing?

To Remus’ horror, Sirius began to walk towards him as the music started back up. “The night we met I knew i needed you so, and if I had the chance I’d never let you go, so won’t you say you love me, I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make them turn their heads everywhere we go. So won’t you please be my baby?”

As Sirius got to the chorus of yet another song, the cheerleaders, James and Peter began to dance in formation behind Sirius. Remus tried to swallow but the lump in his throat was too big. He was frozen in place as Sirius stepped closer and closer.

He glanced behind Sirius and noticed the cheerleads were holding up letters on signs. D-A-T-E- M-E?

Remus glanced back just in time to see Sirius dropping down onto his knees in front of him. Lily let go of his hand and Sirius took it. Remus had to fight ever implies to pull his hand away. “Sirius, what the fuck - “

“Hold on,” Sirius said, grinning up at him like a lunatic. “Big finish!”

Sirius jumped up and hurried back to the center of the gym. The music changed again to Beyonce’s Crazy in Love as the group did an intricate dance to it. Remus would have found the entire thing hilarious if he wasn’t so mortified by what was happening. All he knew was that he needed to get out of there.

Grabbing his bag off the floor, Remus bolted towards the door and didn’t stop running through the corridors until he could no longer hear the music blasting. He found sanctuary in the library and sat down hidden amongst the non-fiction section where he hoped to stay until school let out. Then he would ask his father about moving back to Scotland and hope he took to the idea. Or at the very least let Remus change schools.

“Do you hate me?”

Remus glanced up and flinched when he saw Sirius standing over him. He quickly looked back down at his knees. “No, I don’t hate you,” he mumbled, hugging his knees tighter to his chest to make himself smaller.

“You just left, Remus.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell me why?” Sirius asked, sitting down next to Remus.

“I was embarrassed,” Remus answered quietly. “The whole school was looking at me.”

“They were looking at me too,” Sirius reminded him. “I was the one up there making a twat of myself.”

“It’s different,” Remus insisted, shaking his head.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re you,” Remus said, dropping his head back against the bookshelf. “You’re Sirius Black who everyone loves. You don’t care what anyone thinks about you.”

“That’s not true,” Sirius said, dragging his fingers through his long black hair. “I care what you think about me.”

“Why would you care what I think?”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Were you not paying attention at all during my little display?”

“I was a bit preoccupied being horrified,” Remus admitted.

“Remus,” Sirius said, gently touching his face and guiding it so Remus had no choice but to look at him. “I was asking you out.”

“Wait, what? You were?”

Sirius’ brow furrowed. “Are you taking the piss, mate? The love songs? Having the cheerleaders spell out date me. What did you think was happening? That I was asking you for the answers to the maths quiz?”

“I don’t understand,” Remus told him bluntly, trying to wrap his head around what Sirius was saying. He thought back to the assembly and what he could remember outside his own panic attack.

“Remus, I want to be with you,” Sirius said, annunciating each word slowly and careful. “I’m in love wth you.”

Remus sat quietly for a moment before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.

“What?” Sirius asked, shuffling nervously. “What’s so funny?”

“You complete and utter wanker,” Remus said through his laughter. “What on Earth made you think that was something I’d like?”

Sirius grinned and gave a small little shrug. ‘I don’t know, it was meant to be a big romantic gesture.”

Remus took a deep breath and held his side where it hurt from laughing so hard. “Why do I put up with you?” he asked fondly, tugging Sirius forward.

“I don’t know,” Sirius told him. “But I’m certainly glad you do. You never answered the question by the way.”

Remus chuckled and kissed Sirius tenderly on the lips. “The answer is yes,” he whispered softly. “But if you ever do anything like this again I’ll kill you.”

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. “What about when I ask you to marry me?”

“You pull a stunt like you did today and I’ll say no,” Remus warned him.

“No you won’t.”

“Try me.”

“Not even one little song?”

“Nope.”

“A little dance?”

“Sirius…”

“Fine, no song and dance. Just you and me.”

“Much better.”

“I’ll save it for our first dance as a married couple,” Sirius joked, leaning in to kiss Remus again.

“Oh god,” Remus said, covering his face in his hands.

“I’m thinking we’ll start with My Heart Will Go On and then transition into something more upbeat.”

“Please stop talking,” Remus groaned, dragging his fingers down his face.

“But if I stop talking I can’t tell you I love you,” Sirius said, taking Remus’ hands and lacing their fingers together.

“You’re the worst.”

“I think you mean the best.”

Remus groaned and shook his head. “You’re really lucky I love you.”

“Don’t worry, I know that.”

“You’d better be joking about that whole first dance thing.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

#wolfstar #I write things #flufff #high school au #modern setting #the marauders

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janiedean · 6 years

Text

ELECTIONS TIME PART ONE

HELLO SAM AGAIN

“The suggestion outraged some of the others. “Do you want the king to wipe our arses for us too?” said Cotter Pyke angrily. “The choice of a Lord Commander belongs to the Sworn Brothers, and to them alone,” insisted Ser Denys Mallister. “If they choose wisely they won’t be choosing me,” moaned Dolorous Edd.”

which is why they should choose you edd lmfao I love edd sfm that said GO EDD GO PYKE GO MALLISTER CHAMPION DEMOCRACY IN THIS FUCKING MONARCHIC HELLHOLE

“Stannis ground his teeth. “It is not my wish to tamper with your rights and traditions. As to royal guidance, Janos, if you mean that I ought to tell your brothers to choose you, have the courage to say so.” That took Lord Janos aback. He smiled uncertainly and began to sweat, but Bowen Marsh beside him said, “Who better to command the black cloaks than a man who once commanded the gold, sire?” “Any of you, I would think. Even the cook.” The look the king gave Slynt was cold. “Janos was hardly the first gold cloak ever to take a bribe, I grant you, but he may have been the first commander to fatten his purse by selling places and promotions. By the end he must have had half the officers in the City Watch paying him part of their wages. Isn’t that so, Janos?”

WHY ISN’T THE ENDGAME STANNIS BEING KING BECAUSE STANNIS IS THE ONLY ASSHOLE WHO KNOWS WHAT’S UP

“I am aware of that. If it happens that Lord Janos here is the best the Night’s Watch can offer, I shall grit my teeth and choke him down. It is naught to me which man of you is chosen, so long as you make a choice. We have a war to fight.”

STANNIS U R SUCH A MOOD

maybe stannis is mattarella actually

that would make a lot of sense

“We’ll defend the Wall to the last man,” said Cotter Pyke. “Probably me,” said Dolorous Edd, in a resigned tone.”

grrm how much do I have to bribe you for an edd pov because I would bribe you for it

“Sam the Slayer.” Melisandre smiled. Sam felt his face turning red. “No, my lady. Your Grace. I mean, I am, yes. I’m Samwell Tarly, yes.” “Your father is an able soldier,” King Stannis said. “He defeated my brother once, at Ashford. Mace Tyrell has been pleased to claim the honors for that victory, but Lord Randyll had decided matters before Tyrell ever found the battlefield. He slew Lord Cafferen with that great Valyrian sword of his and sent his head to Aerys.” The king rubbed his jaw with a finger. “You are not the sort of son I would expect such a man to have.” “I . . . I am not the sort of son he wanted, sire.” “If you had not taken the black, you would make a useful hostage,” Stannis mused. “He has taken the black, sire,” Maester Aemon pointed out. “I am well aware of that,” the king said. “I am aware of more than you know, Aemon Targaryen.”

I AM SO SAD WE NEVER GOT THIS COMEDY GOLD IN THE SHOW TBQH

“I recall,” Maester Aemon said, “but Sam, I am a maester, chained and sworn. My duty is to counsel the Lord Commander, whoever he might be. It would not be proper for me to be seen to favor one contender over another.” “I’m not a maester,” said Sam. “Could I do something?” Aemon turned his blind white eyes toward Sam’s face, and smiled softy. “Why, I don’t know, Samwell. Could you?”

rhaegar who, dany who, AEMON FOR SMARTEST TARGARYEN IN EXISTENCE TBH AEMON ILY SO MUCH

“My lord of Tarly,” he said, when his steward brought Sam to him in the Lance, where the Shadow Tower men were staying. “I am pleased to see that you’ve recovered from your ordeal. Might I offer you a cup of wine? Your lady mother is a Florent, I recall. One day I must tell you about the time I unhorsed both of your grandfathers in the same tourney. Not today, though, I know we have more pressing concerns. You come from Maester Aemon, to be sure. Does he have counsel to offer me?”

lmao denys <33333 at least someone has manners in this bloody mess

“There’s another man,” Sam blurted out. “Lord Commander Mormont trusted him. So did Donal Noye and Qhorin Halfhand. Though he’s not as highly born as you, he comes from old blood. He was castle-born and castle-raised, and he learned sword and lance from a knight and letters from a maester of the Citadel. His father was a lord, and his brother a king.”

SAM <333 3LOOK AT HOW NICELY YOU SPEAK OF YOUR BOYFRIEND <33333 YEAH YEAH YEAH I KNOW I’M CHOOSING TO IGNORE ADWD FOR NOW THERE’S JUST SO MUCH SUFFERING I CAN HANDLE

“What have I done? he thought. What have I said? If they caught him in his lie, they would . . . what? Send me to the Wall? Rip my entrails out? Turn me into a wight? Suddenly it all seemed absurd. How could he be so frightened of Cotter Pyke and Ser Denys Mallister, when he had seen a raven eating Small Paul’s face?”

SAM ILU SFM

“No. A fighter. Donal Noye gave him the Wall when the wildlings came, and he was the Old Bear’s squire. The only thing is, he’s bastard-born.” Cotter Pyke laughed. “Bloody hell. That would shove a spear up Mallister’s arse, wouldn’t it? Might be worth it just for that. How bad could the boy be?” He snorted. “I’d be better, though. I’m what’s needed, any fool can see that.” “Any fool,” Sam agreed, “even me. But . . . well, I shouldn’t be telling you, but . . . King Stannis means to force Ser Denys on us, if we do not choose a man tonight. I heard him tell Maester Aemon that, after the rest of you were sent away.”

SAM LMAO <33333333333333 YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE SPY WORK

#asos reread #long post for ts #otp: we're brothers now #ch: jon snow #ch: samwell tarly #cmon guys just another and i'm done and i'll stop spamming you #little grunge blueberry

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1989dreamer · 3 years

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Awkward Doesn’t Begin to Cover It

Here is part one of why @evanesdust had to be so, so patient for their prompt to be fulfilled.

AO3 link

Written for this prompt (same as Seventy-Five Percent).

Summary: Stiles needs to make Lydia Martin see him as a potential partner, so he enlists the unwilling help of Derek Hale, and Derek, against his better judgment agrees to help. It isn’t long before Derek realizes what a huge mistake it was to agree to fake date the person he is in love with. All he can do is hope that Stiles sees it too before it’s too late. And maybe throw in a real proposal on top of their fake dating.

Tags: Demisexual Derek Hale, Unrequited Pining, Fake Dating, Human AU, Misunderstandings, Communication Breakdown, Mentioned Past Relationships

Getting together Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Established Laura Hale/Kira Yukimura

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Derek was minding his own business when 160 pounds of Stiles Stilinski dropped into his lap. Literally.

Derek juggled his book and MP3 player while Stiles lounged in his lap.

“What are you doing?” Derek snapped, setting aside his items before they could get broken or damaged.

“Why don’t you kiss me, boo?”

“Boo?” Derek frowned at Stiles. “Like ‘beau’?”

“Bo? No, boo. Like a lover.”

“That’s what a beau is.” Derek contemplated just standing up and dumping Stiles onto the ground. It wasn’t like he was overly invested in his well being. Stiles was just his little sister’s friend. They hadn’t been close in high school, but had become close in college. So close that Derek and Cora’s mom had started planning their wedding.

Cora had found the plans, sat her mother down, and explained about platonic love, which she and Stiles shared.

In true out-of-touch-with-the-next-generation fashion, Mom still asked when the wedding was.

“Yeah, so, I kinda told your mom I wasn’t going to marry Cora because I was romantically in love with you.”

“What?!” Derek did stand up.

“Ow,” Stiles complained.

“Shut up,” Derek said reflexively. He then grabbed his things, shoved them into his bag, and started run-walking away. Stiles’ love was not something he wanted. Derek was just fine without being drawn into the drama between his mother and sister.

“Are you seriously running away from me right now?”

“Are you seriously chasing me right now?” Derek retorted.

“Touché.”

Derek turned around and Stiles ran into his chest.

“Why would you tell my mother that you loved me?”

“Because,” Stiles ran a hand over his head, “how do you tell her that you don’t want her daughter, but that you want someone else’s daughter?”

“It’s easy,” Derek said. “Just say ‘Mrs. Hale, while I am flattered that you think Cora and I would make a great pair, there’s actually someone else I have my eye on. Cora and I are just friends and plan on remaining so for the foreseeable future.’”

Stiles pretended to wipe a tear away. “That was beautiful,” he said. “Also, both Cora and I tried that. She still asks about the wedding.”

“So you just ignore her. Like I do. Do you think you and Cora are the only ones she’s been pushing to get married. Or have kids.”

“That’s true. Laura can’t be in the same room as her wife without grandbabies being mentioned.”

“Kira knows how to dodge that question,” Derek said, appreciatively. Kira had taught him basic self defense when he was in college. Derek had been proud to stand up for her as her best man while Cora stood for Laura.

“Kira is awesome,” Stiles agreed. “Anyway. I can’t get your mom to leave us alone. I can’t hang out with Cora without her crashing us. It’s like she thinks that we’ll bond over the awkward questions and start kissing with her to witness.”

Derek couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him. Stiles looked pleased before schooling his face into a mask. At first Derek was confused, and then he realized that Lydia Martin was behind him.

Mostly he knew this because her perfume made his nose itch.

“Lydia,” he said, cordially. She had been the wedding planner for Laura and Kira, and she had been fantastic.

“Derek,” she returned cheerily. “I didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

Derek made a show of looking around the park. “I always come here,” he said. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I was. Hi, Stiles. Now, Derek, I really need to talk to you about joining my business.”

“Just because I’m working as a grocer,” Derek began.

“It doesn’t mean you can’t aspire to be something else,” Lydia finished for him. “Seriously, just think about it, Derek. You were the most help during your sister’s wedding. I could use someone like you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Derek said, more to get her to back off than any real promise to actually contemplate a career in the wedding planning industry.

“That’s all I ask. Bye, Derek. Bye, Stiles.” And with that, she flounced off, hair flipped over her shoulder, bag swinging jauntily.

Derek looked to Stiles to find he was still watching Lydia leave. “Hey, so, about you telling my mom that you’re in love with me.”

“What?” Stiles closed his mouth. “Uh, yeah, that. So, I just need you to pretend to date me for, like, a month. Just until your mom starts making wedding plans about us.”

“You know she’s probably just going to be mad at me for stealing Cora’s boyfriend, right?”

“So just ignore her,” Stiles snidely spat.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?” Stiles said hopefully. “Okay what?”

“Okay, I will ignore my mother, and my common sense, and pretend-date you for a month.”

“Thanks. Hey, wait! Did you just insult me?”

“One month, Stiles. Thirty days. Not a second more. If that hasn’t gotten my mom off your back, then nothing will and you’ll just have to live your life disappointing the most obstinate woman in the history of Beacon Hills.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “What kind of son insults his own mother?”

“The one who realizes that she’s beyond hope and won’t change even when presented with undeniable evidence. Anyway, you’re the one that wants to lie to her by pretending to date me.”

“Yeah, that’s true. So, about this dating thing. What’s off limits? What’s on?”

“Uh, well, I don’t really like kissing someone I’ve just started going out with. It takes more time for me to develop romantically in a relationship.”

“Cool, okay. How about holding hands? Sitting next to each other? Pet names? Also, you realize that the moment you dump me—”

“Wait, why am I dumping you? You’re the one that this farce is benefitting. Why do I have to be the asshole?”

“Because your mom loves you. She won’t be mad at you for breaking my heart, but she might kill me for breaking both Cora’s and your hearts.”

“She won’t kill you,” Derek grumbled. He didn’t want to be the asshole. “You should be the one to dump me. It’ll make more sense in the long run.”

“No it won’t,” Stiles insisted. “Just promise me, Derek, when the time comes, you’ll dump me. Publicly.”

“Wait, what? Publicly dump you?” Derek stared at Stiles. “That’s, like, the worst thing ever for me. Why would I do that? Wouldn’t that be bad for you too?”

“Because,” Stiles explained, with an air of patience like Derek was the idiot in this conversation, “if Lydia Martin sees me publicly dumped, then she won’t have any questions about asking me out.”

“Lydia Martin?” Derek stared at Stiles. “Lydia Martin is who you’re in love with? Why don’t you just ask her out instead of involving me in this stupid plot?”

“Because, Derek, Lydia Martin hasn’t looked at me twice since high school. But if you date me and then dump me, then she’ll see hot people are into me.”

Derek’s eyebrows were as high as they could go, but he still tried to raise them again. “Hot people? I’m ‘hot people’?”

“Yeah. You are. And so is Lydia. And I just need her to see me as a viable option.”

“Maybe she already did and then decided it just wasn’t worth it,” Derek said.

“Ouch,” Stiles exclaimed. “Rip out my heart, why don’t you?”

“What? Do you really think if I dump you, Lydia won’t ask why and then decide that she doesn’t want to date you either?”

“Low blow, dude. You could have just said no.”

“Fine. No. I won’t date you.”

“Too late, you already said you would.”

“Good grief, Stilinski. You’re a little shit.”

“Yeah, I know. Anyway. Should I pick you up at 7:00 tonight?”

Derek didn’t answer. He shouldered his bag and marched away. Stiles wasn’t deterred, calling after him, “I’ll text you later.”

Derek snorted. Stiles didn’t have his number. And then he remembered who Stiles’ best friend was. Cora wouldn’t hesitate to give Stiles his number. She liked it when he was in uncomfortable situations, mostly as payback since he’d moved out and Mom didn’t bother him as much about his love life.

Indeed, before he’d made it home, he had several texts from an unknown number and one from Cora.

He read Cora’s text first.

Asshole. Have ur # 2 Styles. Have fun dating him. Don’t brake his <3 or ill brake your knees.

Derek rolled his eyes and typed back a message.

Thanks a lot, assbutt. I knew you’d give him my number. Thinking about blocking it. And seriously, it’s break, not brake.

Cora’s reply came immediately. Don’t u dare block him. He’s working hard for this.

Really? Him asking me out as a joke, as a way to trick someone else into dating him, is him working hard? If that were true, he’d try to befriend Lydia like he did you and then go from there. Instead, he’s trying to short track it. I don’t support that at all.

Fuck you for making me read a while ducking novel.

Derek smiled and then remembered Stiles’ texts.

All ten of them.

This is Stiles

Stilinski

As if you couldn’t guess

Sorry

Anyway

Just thought since i have ur number, u shuld hve mine 2

So here it is

Don’t hesitate to text or call me

I mean we r dating now

Right???

Derek sighed, saving Stiles’ number to his phone.

“Right,” he muttered, typing the word and sending it to Stiles.

He got a series of emojis back.

Great. Not only did Stiles text like his sister, but he was overly fond of the yellow circles.

Derek felt the headache pulsing behind his eyes, so for his sanity, he turned off his phone and went to bed early. He didin’t even realize that he had completely forgotten about Stiles’ date plan.

As such, a few hours after he’d lied down, he was startled awake by a loud pounding on his door.

Derek grabbed the baseball bat he kept under his bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Peering through the peephole revealed Stiles standing in front of his door, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Derek swore under his breath, tossing the bat onto his couch and undoing the locks. “What are you doing here?” he demanded as soon as the door was open. “How did you find out where I live?”

“Hey now, I’m not the one that decided to go off the grid for hours. Check your phone, why don’t you?”

“Did Cora tell you where I live? What if you were a stalker or a serial killer? Doesn’t she care about my well being?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m doing a wellness check. Hey, you’re still alive. Good news! Let me just text confirmation to Cora and then you can get ready for our date in seven minutes.”

“I am not going on a date with you,” Derek said, exasperated. He grabbed the bat off the couch and took it back to his bedroom. Despite not wanting to, he turned his phone back on. By the time he got back to the living room, Stiles had closed the door and was sitting on the couch.

“Much improved,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “I guess we won’t be able to go to that establishment. You know, Beacon Hills’ finest fine dining.”

“The Boot?” Derek asked, to be contrary.

Stiles did not disappoint, spluttering angrily without any definable syllables. “The Boot?!” he demanded. “You wish The Boot was fine dining. I mean Costello’s.”

Derek shook his head. “I am not ‘going on a date’ at the only restaurant that my family owns in this tiny town.” Derek aggressively poked his air quotes at Stiles.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “It’s the perfect place to go. Who better to tell your parents that you’re dating than your uncle?”

“You realize that Peter will pester us the entire time we’re there, right? You won’t be able to eat in peace, and he’ll make fun of us. I don’t want that to be my first date with you.”

“Aha! So you do want to date me!”

Derek sighed. “You’re the idiot who designed this flawed plan. No, Stiles, I don’t want to date you. You want to make some woman jealous so that she’ll date you. And I was stupid enough to agree to it. That makes me as much of a fool as you.”

Stiles took a deep breath, as if centering himself. “Okay, so we won’t go to Costello’s. How about The Burger Joint? You won’t even have to change. Just put on pants. And check your phone. I’m pretty sure your mom called you earlier.”

Derek shooed Stiles out. Then he did check his phone. Two voicemails. Sixteen texts.

Two from Cora, six from Stiles, one from Laura, and one from Kira. Six from his mom.

He listened to the voicemails. Both from his mom. Both generic, “Hey your phone is off. Call me when you get this.”

The texts were all variations of “Mom’s trying to get a hold of you, call her”/”why won’t you call me?”

Derek frowned down at his phone. Just because he was unreachable for two hours, his mother was worried? It must be because she had already heard about Stiles and him dating.

How touching.

Derek dialed his mom’s number.

It rang four times before his mom picked up. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, Mom. Sorry I didn’t answer right away—I was taking a nap.”

“That’s okay. I’m sorry if I worried you. I just wanted to know how could you be a man stealer. For heaven’s sake, it’s your own sister’s boyfriend.”

“Do you mean Stiles?”

“Yes! Who else would I mean?”

“Mom, they’ve told you over and over again: they’re just really good friends.”

“Friends who might get married one day and have babies!”

“No,” Derek said, patiently despite the anger he felt crawling up his spine. He would not be able to maintain a calm façade much longer. “They share a deep, platonic love. While they would do anything for each other, that does not extend to marriage. They’re twenty-three, Mom. Let them live for a bit.”

“And living includes dating you?”

Derek coughed into his fist. “Mom. What Cora and Stiles share is platonic. What Stiles and I share is a bit more romantic in nature. I’m sorry that Stiles didn’t end up with the kid you’d hoped, but can’t you at least be happy for us? We’re actually going on a date tonight.”

“Fine,” Mom huffed. “I’ll call Peter and have him fit you in.”

“No!”

“No?”

“I mean, it’s okay. I know Peter’s restaurant is really busy. Besides, Stiles and I are more casual than Costello’s. If it’s okay, and since it’s still so new, we’d just like to do something by ourselves for now.”

“If you’re sure, honey.”

“I’m sure. In fact, I have to go. I’m late right now. Bye, Mom.” Derek hung up before she could do any more protesting.

Well, that had gone spectacularly. Just like ripping off a bandage. He even had the icky, adhesive feeling stuck to his skin. He decided he needed a quick shower and change of clothing. Should be about ten minutes all told. He shot a text to Stiles letting him know about the time change and then hopped in the shower.

~ * ~

The first date wasn’t as unpleasant as Derek had imagined it might be. He and Stiles made conversation and then fell into a natural banter. If they weren’t actually dating for nefarious purposes, Derek would have enjoyed himself immensely. As it was, he just felt guilty.

Stiles was using him without an ounce of shame, and Derek was letting him. Mostly just to keep his mom off Stiles’ back and let him and Cora have some peace. But every time Derek saw Lydia, and he saw her a lot—at his work, at the garage where they were both having their vehicles serviced, at Peter’s fancy restaurant when Peter wrangled Derek into a shift and Lydia was there with a date or friend—he felt his guilt spike. He wanted to tell her, but Stiles swore him to secrecy.

It wasn’t like Stiles actually had any blackmail on Derek, but his tongue just couldn’t get unstuck enough to tell Lydia about the ruse.

For her part, she seemed not to care or notice whether or not he and Stiles were dating. She flirted with him, flicking her hair over her shoulder, giggling at the most inane things, and standing just a little too close when she tried convincing him to work for her again.

“We’d be equal partners,” she said.

“Does that mean you wouldn’t be my boss?” he asked.

She confirmed it. Derek had never run so fast from a conversation in his life.

On the other hand, Stiles kept taking him on dates. They agreed to alternate who paid and the person who chose the date.

They went mini golfing, which Derek hated. They went to movies, which he could barely stand. They went to Costello’s and the whole night elder patrons stopped by the table to tell Derek how disappointing and rude he was by not working. He thought Peter might have put them up to it because no amount of Stiles telling them that they were on a date helped.

Little by little, Stiles wormed his way into Derek’s life and heart. There were days when a thought would strike him and he had to text Stiles to see what he thought of it.

There was no denying that they were compatible. But they’d never be truly together as long as the Lydia-shaped lie stayed between them.

“So, I guess people believe we’re really dating,” Stiles said halfway through the month.

Derek nodded. It had been his turn to choose again, and they were at the park where it had all started. He was reading a different book, and Stiles was cloud watching, letting Derek use his lap as a pillow.

“Even my mom has stopped making veiled threats.”

“Ah yeah. My dad might have something to do with that.”

Derek closed his eyes. “What did my mother do?”

“She told my dad that I shouldn’t be dating you because that was cheating. My dad asked her what she meant. He at least got it the first time I explained that Cora and I are not involved.”

“That’s good. At least one of them has their head out of their ass.”

“Anyway, when your mom went off on us dating, my dad stopped her, told her we are consenting adults, and that if she’s lucky we’ll be the ones getting married.”

“Hah! Good thing we’re breaking up in two weeks then, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, and Derek might have imagined it, but he sounded a little wistful.

Was Stiles falling in love with him? Like Derek was maybe sort of, definitely falling in love with him?

“Except for how I’m going to marry Lydia Martin after this.”

Oh yeah. That. Derek growled under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Derek lied. “I’m just feeling a little warm. We should probably go.”

“Sure, yeah. Oh, here comes Lydia. Quick, kiss me.”

“What?” Derek sat up so fast he almost smashed into Stiles’ face. Lydia was indeed approaching them. She looked grim, mouth set in a crimson slash, eyes unhappy.

“Derek, Stiles,” she said as she stopped a few feet from them. “Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Lydia,” Stiles returned jovially. Only a fool couldn’t see how in love with her Stiles was. It made Derek cranky and angry that he’d forgotten not to fall in love with Stiles. Trust his heart to decide that the most bastard-y of the bastards was the bastard he wanted.

“Derek, I thought by now you’d have an answer for me.”

For some reason, it didn't sound like she was asking about working with her, and Derek felt like maybe he'd been missing half the conversation with her. Maybe intentionally missing hat part of the conversation.

“I do,” Derek said before he could think better of it. “I don’t want to work in the wedding planning industry, Lydia. Sorry, it’s just not a passion of mine.”

Lydia blew a breath out of her nose, certainly far more disappointed than a job refusal should make her. “Okay. Thanks for that answer.” She turned away, paused, and turned back. “Have a nice life, you two. You make a pretty good couple.”

Then she walked away.

Stiles turned to look at Derek with an amazed expression. Derek looked away so he wouldn’t have to see it.

“Did you hear that? She thinks we’re relationship-goals! She’s already seeing me in another light.”

“Yeah, she is,” Derek muttered, thinking of his mother running around calling him a man stealer. If Lydia had half the decorum she did, she would probably join Talia Hale denouncing Stiles Stilinski right along with Derek.

“Dude, we’re almost at peak relationship. Just a couple more weeks, and you can dump me, and Lydia will rebound me, and then we’ll get married. It’ll be perfect.”

“Sure. Yeah. Perfect.” Derek was aware that he was talking woodenly, voice flat, no inflection. He couldn’t help it. He was the one who had gone and fallen in love with Stiles when Stiles was always off limits.

“Look, I need to clear my head,” he told Stiles. “I’m going to go.”

“We drove here together,” Stiles pointed out.

“Yeah, well. The walk will do me good. See you tomorrow. Okay, Stiles?”

Because that was another thing: they saw each other daily regardless of if they had a date or not.

Derek had learned things about Stiles, like how he liked his eggs, how much coffee he drank and how sweet it was, how much he cared for his father, who had retired from his position as sheriff last year after a heart attack. He learned that Stiles liked his back rubbed when he was sleepy, and that he probably would give great blow jobs. But the thing Derek wished most to learn, what it was like to be loved by Stiles Stilinski, he would never get to experience.

It hurt.

It hurt so much that Derek texted Cora to come pick him up and then he holed up in her room, crying for a relationship he hadn’t even wanted in the beginning.

“Oh no,” Cora said after the fifteenth minute of Derek’s sobbing. “Oh no. Whatever shall we do?” She sat next to him and patted at his back. “Look, all joking aside, I’m sorry you had to fall in love with the second most stubborn man I know.”

Derek peeked up at her. “Who’s the most stubborn?”

“You are. Only you would stick it out in this farce of a relationship when you realized that you were getting in too deep. Listen. If you really want to fuck with Stiles, then don’t break up with him.”

“What?” Derek sat up. “What do you mean?”

“Propose to him instead.”

“What?”

Cora smacked the back of his head lightly. “Instead of breaking up with Stiles, just propose to him. Take him out to the mall and get down on one knee—”

“In the middle of a crowd?”

“No, dumbass, all alone. Yes, in the middle of a crowd. That way he can’t make a scene. I mean, he could, he’s Stiles, but he probably won’t given that he’ll be just as embarrassed as you.”

“And what do I propose with? I haven’t got a ring and I don’t think I can procure one on this short of notice.”

“Really, you could. They sell costume jewelry at any department store. But I’ve got just the thing for you.” Cora climbed off the bed and dug through the top drawer of her dresser. She found what she was looking for quickly and returned, tossing it at Derek’s chest.

It was a black, velvet box. He opened it, staring down at a silver ring set with a black zirconium crystal. It was pretty in a gothic kind of way, and it didn’t surprise him that Cora had it.

”And when he says no?” he asked.

“Then he’ll be the asshole who broke your heart and you can eat your weight in brownies and ice cream.”

“A solid plan,” Derek deadpans. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Hey, asshole, don’t screw it up. You already messed up by falling in love. Now you’ve got to fall out of love. In two weeks.” Cora shook her head. “Only you two would be so foolish as to pull a stunt like this.”

“Hey, it got Mom off your back, didn’t it?”

“Oh, is that why you agreed to do this? As some kind of chivalrous act for your little sister?”

“No, not really,” Derek lied.

“Well knock it off. I don’t appreciate it. And Mom can go fuck herself if she can’t understand platonic love.”

“Sure, that’s worked so well. Anyway. Are you sure I should propose? Stiles wants me to break up with him so that he can get with Lydia Martin.”

“Laura’s wedding planner?” Cora snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. She’s crushing on this kid she knew in high school.”

“Have you told Stiles that?” Cora glared at Derek. “Of course,” he muttered. Even presented with irrefutable proof, Stiles would probably still want what he couldn’t have.

It was one of Stiles’ most undesirable traits. He always sought the most beautiful things even when they were unattainable, or in the case of Lydia, unavailable.

Derek sighed, falling back and covering his eyes. Why was he in love with Stiles? It was the same thing with Stiles chasing Lydia. Cora was right to call him stubborn. He wouldn’t break up with Stiles because he didn’t want to. He also didn’t want to be the asshole again.

He still remembered high school and college. He was always the one to dump his partners—women and men that wanted what he couldn’t give them. Never mind the fact that he wasn’t interested in dating then.

In fact, it wasn’t until this stupid plot of Stiles’ that he had looked at being in a relationship as something desirable. He actually wanted to spend time with Stiles. He wasn’t quite ready for kissing spontaneously, but he was getting there, okay? He’d been startled when Stiles announced Lydia’s sudden appearance and the demand for a kiss was upsetting. Derek wanted to take his time with it, find the perfect moment, take Stiles’ face in his hands—

“Stop thinking,” Cora commanded him. “Look. Just go, practice a speech that will not embarrass you and won’t tip off Stiles. Propose on the month anniversary.”

“And what happens if we end up getting married?”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Stiles won’t let it get that far. And,” she added, “I won’t let you let it get that far. Now get out of my room. Go mope in your own home.”

Derek obediently hauled himself up. He tucked the box with the ring in his pocket. “Thanks for everything, Cora.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied. “Seriously. Stiles would kill me if he knew I was involved in the plan.”

“I thought you knew?”

“The proposal, dumbass.”

“Oh, right. Well, thanks anyway. See you around.”

Cora waved him away, and Derek shut her door behind himself. He made his way downstairs, not sneaking but certainly trying to avoid his mother if she happened to be home right now.

She wasn’t, and he escaped out into the heat of the afternoon.

Now. Just how was he supposed to propose to Stiles?

~ * ~

The dates got weirder because Derek was worrying too much about what he was going to say to Stiles when he fake-proposed. He was also picking up more shifts at work and trying to dodge Lydia, who was becoming more persistent in trying to recruit him into the wedding planning industry. Why she thought he would change his mind, he didn’t know. He'd thought once she had his unequivocal answer she would back off, but apparently she'd doubled down and now he was suffering mini heart attacks whenever he saw her coming.

There was nothing about Derek, with his tattered t-shirts, skinny jeans, scuffed shoes, tangled hair, and out of control eyebrows (all things Lydia had pointed out to him the various times they had encountered each other during the year they’d been in school together, Lydia a freshman when he was a senior) that said that he would like to work with cake choices, champagne, venues, and bridezillas. Just because he’d been able to help Laura and Kira make decisions somehow that meant that he was perfect for Lydia’s Wedding Boutique. Yeah right.

Stiles suggested rock climbing (which was only weird because Stiles tried to do as little exercise as physically possible), going on runs (which was about the only exercise Stiles conceded), and various art classes. Neither of them were artistically inclined, but Derek had to admit there was something therapeutic about slapping paint on a canvas and trying to rearrange it into something that vaguely resembled the instructor’s piece.

Stiles didn’t seem to notice Derek’s distraction, and Derek knew why. Lydia was in all those painting classes. She was always at the front of the class, and when they lined up for the group photos, they were on one end while she was on the other.

Eventually though, Derek found the words he wanted to say, and he knew Stiles was beginning to suspect something.

“Today’s the day,” Stiles announced on the exact thirtieth day from the day they began fake-dating. “Today is the day that you break up with me.”

Or it could be that.

Derek rubbed a hand over his chest, certain that he was getting heartburn. He’d been getting it a lot lately, especially after Cora had given him the ring.

It made food taste like pain and sleep near impossible.

With a calmness that he didn’t feel, Derek suggested heading out to the mall. It was the most public place in Beacon Hills, and probably why Cora had suggested it.

Stiles’ eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure. That’s a great place to do it.”

“Yeah,” Derek muttered, searching his cupboard for antacids. Either he’d eaten them all or he’d forgotten to restock. “Let’s go,” he said stiffly, grabbing Stiles by the elbow and all but shoving him out the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You could act a little more happy to be getting rid of me,” Stiles complained.

Derek ignored him. The ring in his pocket was weighing him down and he was tired of Stiles’ shit. He should be glad to be getting rid of Stiles, but instead, he felt a peculiar kind of grief mixing with his heartburn.

“Should we take individual cars?” Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged. “Sure, why not?” It’d make it easier to run away when Stiles rejected him. He just hoped he was fast enough to dodge any blows Stiles might send his way. Derek’d been slapped a fair bit in his time of dating.

“Cool. See you at the mall.” Stiles blew a kiss at Derek.

It just made the tangle in his chest tighten until it hurt to breathe. Cora was wrong. He shouldn’t propose. He should do what Stiles wanted. It would be much more preferable to break up and run away.

But Derek had to stand up for himself. He didn’t want to be the bad guy always. And besides, he was in love with Stiles. He deserved to at least fight for that. Whether Stiles agreed or not.

He shook his head to clear his jumbled thoughts and then drove extra carefully to the mall behind Stiles’ baby blue Jeep.

They parked a few spots away from each other and walked in, hands brushing as they matched steps.

Once inside, Stiles headed for the pretzel place and ordered the largest thing on the menu and extra cheese sauce. Derek waited until he’d eaten it and wiped away the smears of yellow before he smoothly dropped to one knee in front of Stiles.

He took a deep breath to settle his initial flare of embarrassment and then looked up at Stiles, who was staring down at him in abject terror.

“Derek, what are you doing?” Stiles hissed through locked teeth.

“What I should have done all along,” Derek replied. He forced a grin, head tilted up to see Stiles in his kneeling position. It was uncomfortable and there was dirt or something less savory digging into his kneecap, but it was so worth the look of panic on Stiles’ face, more so when he noticed a certain face in the gathering crowd. Good. This either would help Stiles or Derek. There was no more lose-lose.

“Get up, Derek,” Stiles commanded. “Get up now.”

Derek ignored him, pretending to be collecting his thoughts to watch Stiles squirm for a little longer. He pulled out the velvet box borrowed from Cora and flipped the lid open to reveal the black stone of the ring. “Stiles Stilinski, I know we’ve only been together for a month, but I feel in my heart and soul that we are meant to be together. I’ve enjoyed every moment of these last thirty days—” Stiles spat, “Liar,” and Derek magnanimously ignored the interruption “—and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you make me the happiest Hale alive and say yes?”

Stiles looked stricken, as well he should. Lydia Martin had moved from her observational position and was now standing close enough to touch Stiles.

Except she would never do that. Lydia was honorable and wouldn’t steal someone else’s man…would she? Lately, Derek wasn’t so sure anymore with how hard she’d been pursuing him for her business. He was positive that she’d been flirting with him too, but his romantic-meter might be broken. And lately, she’d only seemed to want him for her business.

“Stiles, aren’t you going to answer the question?” She asked sweetly when Stiles remained silent for nearly a full minute. Derek couldn’t have planned it any better. See Stiles use him now. Derek was tired of being taken advantage of and of being made to be the bad guy. Now it was Stiles’ turn and it was perfect.

Until Stiles squared his shoulders, adopting a reserved look as he bent down until he could grasp Derek’s hands. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he said, pulling Derek up. It only sounded like a half-lie.

What?

Next to him, Lydia squealed loudly, clapping her hands. It sounded like a cover up. She couldn't possibly be that happy for them, right? “I can help plan the wedding,” she offered. “I am a professional, after all.”

Derek frowned at her. He watched the delight spread over Stiles’ face as he linked arms with Lydia. Maybe this had been a mistake after all? Was Stiles going to ask Derek to leave him at the altar now? Make him into even more of a monster?

“Lydia,” Stiles purred through a smirk aimed at Derek, “that would be perfect.”

Oh, Derek was so screwed.

“Uh, here,” he said eloquently as he shoved the ring box at Stiles.

Stiles took it and slid the ring on to his finger, admiring it for a brief moment before he turned to Lydia. “You know, I don’t think I can wait for the wedding. Why don’t we get started planning right away?”

“Derek?” Lydia said.

“You go ahead,” Derek said around a lump in his throat. He may have just made the biggest mistake of his life, but he wasn’t sure if he would change it. If Stiles expected him to play relationship-chicken for a second time, he was sorely mistaken. This was a fight Derek could win through persistence and stubbornness. And shit. He was engaged.

To Stiles.

His mom was going to kill him.

Cora was going to laugh.

He needed help and advice.

And not from Lydia, Cora, or Stiles.

Maybe Laura or Kira could help?

“I’ve got a thing I have to do,” he told Stiles and Lydia. “Go on ahead. Just don’t make any choices I wouldn’t,” he told Stiles. Stiles winked and shot him a thumbs-up.

It was as subtle of a fuck you as Stiles could give him considering they were still surrounded by a crowd of cheering strangers.

Whatever. Derek needed to get out of here.

“I’ll see you later,” he said. “Text me when you’re done.”

And then, Derek ran away.

~ * ~

Cora fell off the couch when Derek confronted her with the empty ring box and the news that Lydia was now planning his and Stiles’ wedding. It took Derek a few minutes to realize that she was laughing at him and not in horrified shock like he was.

“I’m sorry,” she said around her laughter, “but it’s a little funny.”

“Is not,” he countered. “Mom’s going to kill me for marrying your beloved and Stiles is going to kill me when he realizes that I proposed for real.”

“You what?!” Mom screeched from the kitchen. Derek winced and Cora blanched.

“Run,” she whispered.

Derek took her advice and climbed out the window while his mother came racing into the room, rolling pin held aloft.

Why she was dead set on Cora and Stiles marrying and having kids would have to remain a mystery. And seriously if she couldn’t grasp the concept of platonic love, then she didn’t deserve to yell at him about stealing his sister’s boyfriend. Besides, it’d been a month. Stiles was Derek’s boyfriend. Fiancé now.

Then Derek wandered aimlessly. Neither Laura nor Kira had responded to his pleading texts, and he couldn’t go back to Cora.

Eventually though, he found himself outside of the old sheriff’s house. Sheriff Stilinski was sitting on the front porch, a pitcher of sweet tea by his elbow, glass in one hand, lazily watching the traffic up and down his street.

“Derek,” he acknowledged with a nod. “What brings you out this way, son?”

“I thought I should tell you this in person.” Derek took a deep breath. “I proposed to Stiles today.”

The Sheriff’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “It’s only been a month, son. Are you sure?”

Derek thought about it, about the way Stiles made his stomach ache like he’d eaten too much and yet never enough, about the way that Derek never kissed people but how he wanted to kiss Stiles. He thought about how Stiles only wanted to use him to get to Lydia and he felt his face go red.

“Pretty sure,” he said miserably.

“And what did Stiles say when you proposed?”

“He said ‘Of course.’”

“Of course he did,” the sheriff muttered. “Derek, I don’t know what game Stiles is playing with you, but you need to get out before you get hurt. That boy has only had eyes for Lydia Martin since third grade. No doubt he’s trying to make her see what she’s missing out, and you’re caught in the middle.”

Summed up neatly. Derek knew this. It was the whole reason they’d started “dating,” but now Derek was the one who’d taken it too far, and he knew his heart was going to get broken. He just wished Stiles could love him just a little and break up with him before Derek was the asshole who married a man who wasn’t in love with him.

“I’m sorry,” Derek told his maybe-father-in-law.

The sheriff sighed. “It’ll be okay, Derek,” he said. “It might be hard to see it right now, but it will be okay. You will survive.”

“Thanks.”

And feeling no better than before, Derek walked home.

He found Kira and Laura sitting on his front steps. Immediately Laura leapt up to embrace him.

“Mom called us crying about how you were ruining her chances at having grandbabies. Then Cora told us you proposed to Stiles.”

“Oh, Derek,” Kira sighed, coming to hug him too. “Are you sure you want to date and be engaged to Stiles? Everyone knows he’s pining after Lydia Martin.”

“I know that,” Derek said, working hard to keep any emotion out of his tone. “And Lydia really wants me to work for her in her wedding planning business. She won’t take no for an answer.”

Kira and Laura exchanged a knowing look. “She’s in love with you, Derek,” Kira said. “She has been since her freshman year of high school.”

“I kind of figured that,” Derek said. “I’m not completely oblivious.”

Laura hugged him again. “No,” she agreed, “you’re not. You’re just mostly demisexual.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just means that it takes you longer to find romantic love than most people. Tell me, do you want to jump Stiles’ bones?”

Derek couldn’t help the disgust he felt at the thought of getting naked with and having sex with Stiles. He shook his head. “I just want to kiss him.”

“You’re not ready to be engaged, Derek,” Kira told him, like it was a revelation. He frowned at her. “You need to break up with him before either of you make any more decisions that hurt you.”

“Okay,” he said, amiably. “When should I do that? Before or after Stiles plans our wedding?”

The look Kira and Laura exchanged this time was one of dawning horror.

“Now,” Laura said. “You break up with him now before the damage done is irreversible.”

“Okay,” Derek said. Sound advice. Just one problem. “I think I might be too stubborn to do that.”

Two heads swiveled as one, and he found himself pinned beneath the weight of their stares, like a butterfly stuck on a pin, waiting for the ether to put him out of his misery.

Kira put a hand on Laura’s arm. “And why wouldn’t you do that?” she asked gently.

“Because,” Derek mumbled.

“Because why?” Kira asked, patience cracking.

“Because I don’t actually want to break up with him,” he admitted. “I like dating him. I don’t want to break up with him because then he’ll get what he wants and I’ll never see him again.”

“He’ll still be friends with Cora,” Laura pointed out.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll come around much anymore. Even if things work out between them.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Cora’s the one who gave me the ring. How long do you think before it slips out that it’s her ring he’s wearing?”

“That’s why you break up with him now before too much more happens.” Laura heaved a big sigh. “Derek, you know that you can’t build a relationship on a lie like this. Stiles shouldn’t have asked you to get him to trick Lydia Martin into dating him, and you shouldn’t have agreed.”

Derek nodded. “I know. I just…” He spread his hands, a parody of a shrug. “I didn’t think I’d fall in love with him.”

“Then you don’t break up with him,” Kira said. “You tell him the truth: that you’re in love with him and cannot continue the façade of fake dating. That you want to date him for real.”

“Sounds simple,” Derek said.

“It is,” Laura told him. Kira quickly shushed her.

“We can come with you for moral support. Pick someplace to talk to Stiles that you don’t mind losing if Stiles decides that he doesn’t want to stay with you.”

“So, not the park?”

“No, definitely not that. How about that new coffee shop? The one that just opened?”

Laura nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Derek’s been there once and he couldn’t stop complaining about the coffee.”

“That’s perfect. Text Stiles to meet you there now. We’ll go with you so you have backup.”

“Great. So that’s decided.” Derek pulled out his phone and let Kira dictate the text to Stiles.

Got something I need to talk to you about. Please meet me at Roast’s in 20 minutes.

Stiles’ reply came immediately. Sure. Want me 2 bring nething?

“Nething?” Derek muttered to himself. No, he typed. Just yourself.

Stiles sent a winking face emoji.

Not a good sign.

“Come on,” Kira said. “Let’s go get a table and wait for Stiles.” She patted Derek’s back. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it will be okay.”

The Sheriff had said the same thing. Derek didn't believe it any more this time.

“If you say so.” Derek knew they were right. It might not feel like it’d be okay, but it would be. Life moved on, time healed wounds. And Stiles wouldn’t actually hit him. Not in front of Laura anyway. Not if he didn't want a broken nose too.

If Derek remembered correctly, Stiles was a little terrified of Laura. He’d been friends with Cora for so long that sometimes Derek forgot he hadn’t been around him or Laura as much.

“Thanks for doing this,” Derek said, meaning helping him with a potential breakup, meaning keeping him from being assaulted again.

If things went well with Stiles, maybe he’d have Kira and Laura tell Lydia to back off too.

He could hope.

For now, he just needed to get to Roast’s and wait for Stiles to show up.

Easy.

~ * ~

At Roast’s, Kira and Laura ordered a couple of caramel coffee drinks and settled at a table from which they could see the door.

Derek got a milk and a weird look and then settled at a booth where he was easily visible. And then he didn’t drink his milk or play with his phone, too nervous for either.

With a minute to spare, Stiles strolled into the coffee shop and made a beeline for Derek’s booth.

“So, what’d you want to talk about?”

Derek took a deep breath, wrapped his shaking hands around his glass, and looked at a spot over Stiles’ left shoulder.

“I don’t want to marry you,” he said. Stiles’ mouth dropped. “I also don’t want to fake-date you anymore.”

“And you couldn’t do this at the mall why?” Stiles hissed at him. Angry. Within reason.

“Because,” Derek said, catching sight of Kira’s face and focusing on it. “Because I want to real-date you.”

“What?” Stiles’ mouth opened for another reason. Shock, Derek thought. “You what?”

“I want to date you,” Derek said. “For real. Real dates, real emotions, real time invested.”

Stiles slapped the table, and Derek jumped. Stiles looked ashamed, but he buried it quickly. “You can’t do this to me, Derek,” he said. “If you wanted to actually date me, well, you never had a chance, did you?”

And that hurt.

“What?” Derek said stupidly, but he knew, even before Stiles could explain: no one ever wanted Derek. They just wanted him until they realized he was just a pretty face and not even a chance for a lay. And Stiles…Stiles was worst of all because he didn’t even want a pretty face on his arm or a prude in his bed. He just wanted to use Derek to get to the woman of his dreams. Fuck Derek and any feelings he might have.

The air was too thin for Derek to draw a proper breath, but he tried anyway, to give Stiles the courtesy of listening to him.

“Did you forget that I was only dating you to get Lydia Martin jealous? To get her to see me as a viable mate? Well, congratulations, she does now. And you’ve served your purpose, so I guess this is goodbye.”

Derek couldn’t even look at Stiles when he stood up, trying hard to blink back tears.

“Hey, Derek, it’s been real. Forget my number, would you, babe?” Something clinked against the table, and it took him a while to realize that it was the ring.

He couldn’t breathe, because if he breathed then he’d cry, and if he cried, then it was real.

“Hey,” Kira said quietly, dropping onto the seat next to him. She bumped shoulders with him. “Hey, Derek, you’re okay. You’re okay. Really.”

He turned to her, the first tear rolling down his face. “I know,” he choked out. She smiled at him sadly and let him press his face into her shoulder to muffle the sobs.

A few minutes later, Laura joined them. She sat across the table and set her hand on Derek’s back.

He had stopped crying already, but it was still comforting to have his sister rubbing his back. “I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up,” he apologized thickly.

“You’re not,” Kira said with a ferociousness he was entirely unused to seeing from her. “Stiles is. He just threw away the best thing about his life, and trust me, I know what his life is like.”

“That shouldn’t make me feel better,” Derek told her.

“But it does,” she said. “Trust me. Now. Let’s go. Laura and I will stay with you tonight.”

Derek let them pull him up and head for the parking lot. It wasn’t until he was trudging up the steps of his apartment that he remembered Cora’s ring.

He began trying to convince his sister and her wife to go back to the coffee shop to get it.

Finally, Laura pulled it from her pocket. “I got it. I’m going to give it back to Cora. Now, will you settle down?”

Kira ordered pizza for supper and Laura did a grocery run for ice cream when she returned the ring. And then, as promised, Kira and Laura stayed with Derek until he fell asleep in front of the TV.

~ * ~

Morning dawned bright. Derek put one foot in front of the other and managed to get himself dressed and to work on time. He just kept doing that, day after day, and after about a week, he had a routine: work, check his phone on his break for a message from Stiles—there never was any—check it again just in case, head to the park to read, head home, eat something, go to sleep, do it all over again the next day.

He didn’t delete Stiles’ number for one selfish reason: he wanted to remember the good times they’d had, the way he’d fallen in love.

What did Stiles have that no one else had?

He still hadn’t answered that when his phone chirped.

Hey. This is Stiles. Can we talk? Meet at Roast’s in 20?

Derek stared at his phone. What could Stiles want to talk about? Derek had left him alone.

Another text pinged.

Without your bodyguards. I just want 2 talk.

Before he could think too much about it, he sent, Sure. See you in 20.

Then he took a quick shower, changed his clothes, and drove to Roast’s.

By the time he got inside, Stiles was already there, sitting in the same booth from a week ago.

He sat down across from him.

It wasn’t awkward. Not yet.

“Hey,” Stiles said, pushing a glass of milk toward Derek. “So. I asked you here to talk.”

“Yeah.” Derek let the glass stay where Stiles pushed it. “What did you want to talk about?”

Stiles drew in a breath, holding it for a count of ten before he blew it out. “Okay, look. I made a mistake.”

Derek waited. He wasn’t here for himself. So he wouldn’t take whatever bait Stiles wanted to offer him.

“When I told you that you never had a chance with me.”

“Okay,” Derek said, more to say something than any need to acknowledge Stiles’ poor revelation.

“I mean.” Stiles scratched his eyebrow and then crossed his arms. His body language said he was embarrassed and fighting through it. Whatever he had to say was more important than the fact that he was turning red.

Derek replayed the words Stiles had said. “Wait,” he said, “you made a mistake? You mean you want to date me?”

“Yeah. I mean.” Stiles grabbed the milk and drained it in one long swallow. Derek waited him out. “When I told you that I only wanted Lydia Martin, I didn’t take into account the fact that I know you. I had time to get to know you, to learn things about you. I could spend an eternity with Lydia and never learn the same things.”

“And that’s supposed to mean that you should be with me?”

“No.” Stiles set his hand on the table, palm up. “It just means that I realized I threw away what could be the best relationship I’ve ever had. Derek, I don’t want Lydia Martin anymore. Maybe I never did. And it wasn’t until I was saying the words to you that I realized I wasn’t lashing out because you had gone and fallen in love with me. It was because somehow I’d gone and fallen in love with you too.”

“So it was easier to hurt me?”

Stiles shook his head. “I heard the words as they came out, but I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t mean to say them. I certainly didn’t mean to hurt you like I did.” He sighed. “But I did, and we’d be doing ourselves a disservice if we ignored that I did that.”

“So, what do you want to do? Since you’re not with Lydia.”

“Well, honestly, I wanted to ask you out on a real date.”

“A real date?” Derek repeated. “Like, no subterfuge? No ulterior motives?”

“None,” Stiles confirmed.

“What makes you think that my sister or her wife would let you anywhere near me?”

Stiles waved a hand at him. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have met me. Laura or Kira would have instead. So, can we start over?”

Derek thought it over. The wounds were fresh, still painful if pressed. “I’d need proof that Lydia won’t come between us,” he finally said. “And I think we should start with apologizing to each other. I’ll go first. Stiles, I am sorry for proposing to you instead of telling you the truth that I’d started falling in love with you and didn’t want to give you up.”

“And I’m sorry that I put you in that position in the first place,” Stiles said. “I’m also truly sorry for how I treated you after you came clean to me.”

Derek mentally touched the place in his mind where Stiles had come to live. It still hurt, but the pain was lessened somewhat.

An apology was a start.

“We could go to the park?” Derek suggested. “You know, people around, no obligations.”

“That sounds good. Wanna go now or should we meet later?”

“Like tomorrow?” Stiles nodded. “I think now’s okay. Let me just text Cora where I am so that my sisters won’t worry.”

“Fair point.” Stiles paused. “Also, did you tell my dad that we were engaged?”

“Ah, yeah,” Derek coughed. “I did. Did he give you shit about it?”

“No. He’s not your mom.” They both winced at the reminder that Derek’s mother was a different kind of monster. “Anyway. He just wanted to know when the wedding was and if he could walk me down the aisle.”

“That sounds really nice, actually,” Derek said. “If we ever get to that stage, he can definitely do that.”

“Yeah. It would be kind of awesome. Anyway. Meet you at the park?”

“Yeah. I’ll follow you?”

Stiles nodded, heading for the door. Derek followed more slowly, sending his text to Cora.

Meeting with Stiles. Don’t worry. We’re talking. We’re not going to be idiots about it.

Meeting xs is bad idea. Send L?

NO! WE’RE OKAY! DON’T SEND HELP!

All caps means distress

I’m distressed because you’re not listening to me. Look, Stiles and I are talking. We realized that we both loved each other and we don’t want to try when it could be too late.

OK. Ur funeral. Let me kno if u need savin. Luv u

Love you too. Bye, Cora.

Derek looked up from his phone to find Stiles leaning against his Jeep, studying him, a fond smile on his face.

“Good news?” he asked.

“Cora is infuriating,” Derek replied. “But she agreed not to send Laura after me.”

“Hey, just in case I don’t get to say it later, I love you.”

Surprised, Derek paused. “I love you too?” he said, puzzled.

“So that’s settled. To the park?”

It sounded like a euphemism. Like the park was going to be a secret meet up place for illicit “I love you”s and kisses.

Derek smiled. “To the park.”

Let it be the euphemism of their relationship. Let it mark the start of something new and unblemished. Let going to the park be exactly what it was.

~ End ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #evanesdust #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Prompt

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