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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

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chaoticspacefam · 3 years

Note

6. “How do you think this will all end?” for D'leah, please <3

Pinky once again picking THE juiciest possible combo of prompt + characters, everybody go thank her bc I had a blast with this 👀 I’ve been wanting to write a oneshot for this part of the story for a while and this is the perfect excuse mwahaha

@palepinkycat here you go! Sorry this one took a little while, I haven’t had time to sit and write it out till now, but hopefully it’s a decent enough length to make it up to you! 👀

I have more to say about the body language I described in here (namely the significance of the “under chin” snuggles & also why D’leah Yelled At Abe When He Tried To Do It To Her At The End), but I have a Worldbuilding tag somewhere in my mentions so I’mma save it for that basically. More Tomato Lore gonna drop sometime in the next week or two once I’m done with the drawings skshsks I tried to do one for this one too but it was not coming out right so maybe some other time XD

I’ve seen a lot of fics explore what it’s like to have a Force bond and communicate with it but I’ve seen very few that deal with the “what if it breaks when one of them dies” side of it, so this is my take on what happens and how it probably feels for the “surviving” party; I usually describe my Force bonds as a sort of ethereal “thread” type thing that then connects their emotions/souls/however you want to see it and yadda yadda, so...you can’t tell me that snapping that thread wouldn’t fucking hurt ;-; For extra heart hurty, the song quotes were the main two songs I listened to while working on each “part” of this fic, so you can use them for ambience if you want ;)

As always I use the Coruscant Translator for (most of) my High Sith, translations are included on the bottom however :) (since the quote from the prompt is said in Sith, they’re gonna talk in High Sith sometimes being well...Sith :3)

Abaron is the best brother-in-law, I do not make the rules. D’leah you need to apologise to this man immediately 😂 she does, immediately after this (not shown) dw, I swear

Timeline/Setting: 3729 BBY (roughly/according to the still-holey timeline I’ve been working on since the “canon” one was released) Immediately post-Valkoriate takeover. As in, literally just happened slash is happening as this occurs.

Warnings: Character Death mention (Kissai), Breaking Force Bonds, Plenty of angst (it was from an “angsty” prompt list, after all! 😬) , possible slight gore (?) in the form of description of a former injury from a concussion grenade (just to be safe lol), and ofc some Cuss Words (™)

^^ these are ur warnings, click past this cut at ur own risk and I am not responsible for how you react bc you chose to pass the warning k thanks ^^

“Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not. He’s good and he’s bad and he’s all that I’ve got. Oh lord, oh lord, I’m begging you please...don’t take that sinner from me -” ~ The Civil Wars, “Devil’s Backbone”

It all happened so fast, they had to react fast if they were going to save the twins, and D’leah knew that. She’d tried so desperately to help her husband, pouring as much of her Force energy as she could through the bond they shared. It had always worked before, why wasn’t it working NOW?! D’leah didn’t know, but she could feel him growing weaker and weaker by the second.

D’leah - his voice was so distant and faint, she almost didn’t want to acknowledge the reality of it. No, no no, he wasn’t dying he couldn’t be dying, no no no…. D-Don’t do this. Sai… her grip on the control cluster tightened until her knuckles turned pale, they were already in the air. It would be easy to do what she knew he was about to ask...but it would mean leaving him to his fate. Could she do that?

Dimly, D’leah could hear Abaron chattering to the girls behind her as he made sure they stayed in their seats, but she couldn’t hear the words any of them were saying, there was just him and that horrible, ominous weakness bleeding from her husband’s end of the bond.

You need to run… Kissai urged her. PROMISE me. The girls-

I can’t...not without you! her mind-voice caught as if the words were difficult to form, she felt him slip further away and frantically tried to bolster his strength up again, but somehow, she couldn’t put her finger on how, it only seemed to make the other Pureblood weaker. Sai, snichi… she pleaded, and she could feel the barest attempt at a smile from her husband as he gave her his final farewell,

Nu aki j’us, D’leah. RUN. For me...

His words were far weaker now, more forced, as if even Kissai knew he was running out of time to convey his plea. D’leah realised with a growing sense of horror that they really didn’t have another option, she had to protect their daughters. She reached towards the navcomputer to punch in the quickest hyperspace code she could think of that would get them as far away from Imperial Space as possible, but never managed to get there.

The pain hit her so fast that D’leah had no time to prepare for it even if in reality, she’d known it was coming. First, came the white-hot metal rod of pain that jammed right down the center of her spine. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire and it was this that was enough to cause her to cry out in pain and lose her grip on the ship’s controls as the Pureblood was thrown sideways in her seat. She managed to fall with just enough grace to get herself out of Abaron’s way and as she hit the floor and the pain kept coming, she faintly heard the man curse in High Sith as he lunged across to take her place in the pilot’s seat before they nose-dived into Force-only-knows what, out here in open space like they were.

Then she felt the thread of Force energy between herself and her husband straining, threatening to snap, and before long, it did. D’leah knew logically there was nothing she could do to stop it, and that trying would make it hurt more, but she was desperate and on reflex she could not help but try. Frantically, she reached out with her own Force energy and clasped for each thread as it tore away from her, bit by bit, as if clutching at the strings would somehow, futilely, keep him here. Would let him live. But still, the pain came again, and again, and she fancied that the sinews of flesh being ripped from bone when she lost part of her face to that concussion grenade had been less painful than this. “No...no no no no please...please! NO!!!” Everything else was so faint and far-away in comparison that D’leah didn’t realise that her scream had been out loud this time, her fingers fumbling for her heart, though she couldn’t rightly tell if that was where the pain was truly coming from and it was simply a reflexive reaction.

For a long while she clenched her teeth through wave after wave of pain, and while it didn’t stop, it became easier with every breath for D’leah to push it into the background. Slowly, the Pureblood’s blurry vision cleared and she realised the twins were staring down at her, wide-eyed in horror.

She needed to get up. She needed to go to them, she needed to be strong. For them.

Saarai reached for her first, but she scooped both of them up into her arms as best as she was able, all but falling into the seat where the twins had been huddled moments before. The girls both clamored to settle themselves as close to her as they could without pushing the other out of her grasp too. D’leah held onto them as tightly as she could, only vaguely aware of Saarai’s voice as she chattered a question up at her, catching every second word or so. “Moooom!” as she reached up towards her again, and “Dad...gonna find us...right?”

Their mother shushed them softly, adjusting her grip to fit both of the twins, as best she was able, beneath her chin. Safe. They were safe there.

“Shhh, shh-shh, my little one.” she croaked shakily, a tremor passing through her frame as she tried to keep her voice steady and convincing through the lie. “He’ll catch up later, don’t you worry.”

They sat in silence, D’leah clutching them against her chest as if they, too, might disappear if she let them go for even one second, and Abaron took over piloting the ship so that she didn’t have to. He’d practically done all the work already, anyway. She risked a glance down at her daughters, and caught the wary glint in Saarai’s golden eyes, the sideward glance at her sister, and she knew that they knew it was a lie. But she had not the heart to tell them that yet. Not now, through the tears that had begun to stream from her eyes despite her attempts to hold them at bay. She did not mean to cry, but what else could she do??

Saarai’s tiny fingers reached up shakily, when she realised what they were, to brush the liquid tracks from her chin and the spurs on her jaw. It only made her cry more and hold them tighter.

“Nunchi woiunoks, oi ai utja…” she breathed soothingly, hoping it was convincing enough for the twins. “Mom’s got you...nothing is ever going to hurt you while I’m here.” She held them like that right until they landed.

“The daughter of a lawyer, told the fallen priest “it’s a cold, cold place in the arms of a thief”, And tapping at the arrow in her heel, she said “LEAVE ME ALONE! ...but just don’t leave me here, alright?” Alright..” ~ Iron & Wine, “Arms of a Thief”

By the time they arrived at their destination, some planet called “Rishii” that she doesn’t ever recall knowing of before - but perhaps that’s a good thing - and Abaron managed to find them a place to stay, the pain she had felt had dulled to more of a phantom throbbing than anything else. But her consciousness felt vulnerable and empty without Kissai’s own Force presence winding around hers, she felt alone, even though physically she was not. D’leah had sung and rocked the twins to sleep, with some effort, and glanced down at them as they slept, Ni’kasi’s arms curled around her sister as she burrowed under her chin for comfort beneath the blanket their mother had tucked around them.

The pain was gone, and in its wake came the FURY. It bubbled to the surface all too quickly, and D’leah began to tremble again, a growl rumbling deep in her throat as she realised that first, the girls were theoretically out of danger, and secondly, she still had a ship. She could go back.

“I’m going to kill that fucker.” the Pureblood wheeled for the door, only to find it blocked by Abaron, who seemed to have pre-empted her outburst. She stopped short, a hiss slipping past her teeth as her lip curled back to show her fangs briefly. “Abe. Move.” she snarled, resisting the urge to shout so as to not wake Saarai and Ni’kasi from their slumber. The tips of Abaron’s jaw spurs shook as, for once in his life, he declined to follow her order.

“No. My Lord, I can’t let you do that.”

It took every ounce of her self control not to do worse, but as it was, D’leah tried to lunge for him so she could force her way past, he might not have been taller than her but he was stronger, and heavier too. The man reacted just as quickly, his own hands closing around her wrists to push back and keep her in place, his own feet firmly rooted in the doorway as he grunted. “D’leah! Listen to me, please!”

The tears threatened to come to the surface again, her eyes burning hot, though this time the matriarch forced them down, though her voice still quivered as she spat, each word punctuated with a quiver in her voice.

“You have no idea how I am feeling right now!”

“Not wholly, no.” Abaron argued, releasing her arms as she dropped them back to her sides, her remaining spurs still rattling softly in agitation. “But I know that going back there now is foolish, my Lord!”

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way!” D’leah hissed, though she didn’t have the strength left after the manic dash away from Kaas to call the lightning to her fingertips and lend to the threat she was trying to punctuate. “H-He is sitting there, on our homeworld, w-with our people’s blood on his hands!” she tried to shove him again, but her fist connected dully with the plated armour on the other Pureblood’s chest and didn’t make much of an impact on him. “They’re all dead and y-you just want me to -!!”

“I’m trying to protect you, my Lord!” his teeth flashed back at her, yet another thing she would not have stood for if she was half as lucid as usual. He continued on further, his voice a low, agitated growl as he lowered his face to hers as if to punctuate his point. “That is my charge, it’s what you bid me to do and I will not have you risking your life for such a foolish venture, you’re not thinking straight! We are the only ones left! It’s my duty to make sure that all three of you stay alive!”

She flinched at the reminder. Them, and Vowrawn, perhaps...if he was sneaky enough. But Abaron was right, going back would put him at risk, too. His eyes searched hers frantically, and his hands remained raised as if Abaron wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t need to hold her back again. D’leah was in half a mind about it herself, she wasn’t sure how to react now. And what her brother-in-law said next put the nail in the coffin, so to speak:

“Dias dari j'us minti pa saû iki wisa qorit?” he urged, the words a muttered whisper.

The Pureblood matriarch felt her anger fizzle out almost instantly as the realization sank in. The girls....they were only children. They were far too young for this. Too young, they were too young for this talk of death and loss and grief; too young to have to understand if she left them here and did not come back either. Their father’s passing would weigh heavily on them for the rest of their lives, they didn’t deserve to have to lose their mother, and on the same day, too...

She deflated, her shoulders sagging in defeat, and another tremor wracked her frame as she dropped her own gaze to the floor for the moment. “Abe...I-”

“I know.” he sighed, relaxing as he stepped up to draw her against his chest sympathetically. She almost didn’t react, until she felt his chin brush the top of her head and she realized what he was trying to do. Despite his attempt at the gesture being comforting, D’leah jerked herself away from him to growl warningly. “Dari nindz.”

He looked momentarily taken aback, holding his hands up amicably as he apologised. “I was just...I thought you needed-” “Nu sûa nindz zo ardira!” she snapped at him, but mercifully, turned away from the door and stalked further inside once more.

____________________________________________________

Sith translations, in order:

Snichi... - please...

Nu aki j’us. - I (romantic) love you.

Nunchi woiunoks, oi ai utja. - Sweet little one, it’s alright.

Dias dari j'us minti pa saû iki wisa qorit? - How do you think this will all end?

Dari nindz - Don’t.

Nu sûa nindz zo ardira! - I’m not a child!

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #hoooo the angst #tw: character death #swtor oc: d'leah ahaszaai #swtor ''oc'': abaron ahaszaai #sith pureblood #swtor oc: saarai ahaszaai #swtor oc: ni'kasi ahaszaai #the ahaszaai twins #by brief/honorable mention #i mean they're asleep but they're there skhskhskdn #i *do* have a much shorter oneshot that was basically just before this during the whole ''shit we gotta RUN'' phase #but from baby saarai's point of view #i just originally wrote it for zephyrverse lore so i will prob have to do some editing b4 i can post it too but maybe one day LMAO #and i do have an idea for a oneshot some fluffy mother-daughter bonding #that i might work on next once i've worked on some owed art stuff next week #as a counter-balance to this angst-hammer bc it really is one #i'm sorry #i got carried away lmao #i want u all to know that writing this hurt me just as much as it's prolly gonna hurt u to read ;-;#but at the same time i also...am v proud of it?? i like this one a lot o.o

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littlespoonevan · 4 years

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I would love to read a fic by you of sandy coming out to mickey, or mickey to sandy... or any version of that concept. i just kinda love the gay milkoviches

ahh so i found this one quite difficult bc sandy isn’t someone i’ve ever really written before and i don’t know what she would’ve been like before this season (though i’m guessing not all that different) but i tried my best!!! this is set during some vague time between 3x05 and 3x06 bc i wanted ian and mickey to kiss but i didn’t want any of the 3x06 hell hanging over them either ajskdh enjoy!!

If living in the same house as his dad is hell thenIan on top of him with his tongue down Mickey’s throat is definitely heaven. Inmoments like this it’s hard for him to remember why he’d been so resistant toletting Ian kiss him in the first place because, fuck, Ian knows what he’sdoing. He’s got one hand in Mickey’s hair and one hand up Mickey’s shirt and he’skissing Mickey like he wants to devour him.

Honestly, Mickey has just enough presence of mind topull Ian’s hips down by his belt and let him keep kissing him until his mouthis numb.

Ian’s hand is just grazing the waistband of hissweatpants when Mickey hears the unmistakeable sound of his bedroom door beingopened. He shoves Ian off him at the same time Ian rears back and away as afamiliar voice lets out a teasing, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Mickey sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself tosit up, never once taking his eyes off Sandy where she stands smirking in thedoorway.

“It’s not-“

“What it looks like?” she guesses. The sardonic grinon her face makes Mickey’s stomach drop as she pushes herself off the doorframeand steps into the room. “Mick, you can do better than that.”

Mickey’s blood is rushing so loudly in his ears he thinkshe might pass out but he squares his shoulders and bites the inside of his cheekas he waits for the threat or the blackmail. He knows how this shit goes, howhis family works. What he doesn’t expect is for Sandy to close the door behindher and drop onto the empty space at the end of his mattress. “At least say youwere wrestling,” she scoffs. “Or lock your fucking door maybe.”

“I told you to lock the door,” Mickey grumbles,kicking out with his foot until it hits Ian’s shin where he’s sitting betweenhim and Sandy, back pressed to the wall.

“I thought you locked it,” Ian hisses in Mickey’sdirection before he goes back to eyeing Sandy warily.

Sandy regards them both for a minute, leaning back onher hands, and Mickey tries to calm himself down. Sandy’s…well, she’s notnormal but she’s as close to someone Mickey can trust as he’s got in hisfamily.

“I guess it’s easier for girls,” Sandy says finallywith a careless shrug. “I can just say I’m having a sleepover and no one batsan eye. Then again, Mom’s always too high to notice anyway.”

Mickey blinks, brain short-circuiting as he tries toprocess what she just said. Sandy watches him, a faint, amused smirk still onher face as she inclines her head.

“You’re gay?” he blurts out, feeling mildlyembarrassed when she laughs.

“Guess this shit is genetic, huh?” she says beforeholding out her hand. “I keep your dirty secret, you keep mine. Otherwise it’smutual destruction. Deal?”

Mickey watches her, feeling completely taken aback byhow this has played out. He’s imagined this scenario so many times in his worstfucking nightmares and every time he’s always ended up dead. He’d never evenconsidered this to be a possibility.

“Deal,” he agrees after a beat, lightly slappingSandy’s hand with his own.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” she says beforelooking pointedly in Ian’s direction.

“Oh,” Mickey says, feeling clumsy with whiplash. Whatthe fuck is happening right now? “Sandy, Gallagher. Gallagher, Sandy. She’s mycousin.”

“Ian,” Ian offers weakly and Sandy gives him a shrewdlook before announcing, “I like Gallagher better.”

“So how long has this been going on?” she asks then, barrellingon with tactless abandon.

“About a year and a half,” Ian answers when Mickeydoesn’t say anything and Sandy almost chokes on her own tongue.

“A year and ahalf?” she splutters and Mickey feels his face heat up.

“I had two stints in juvie in that year and a half,”Mickey feels the need to point out, not that it even makes a difference. As ifhe did anything other than think about Ian while he was locked up.

“Still.Does anyone know?” she asks. “Wait, your dad doesn’t know, does he?”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Mickey mutters, closinghis eyes briefly when he feels Ian’s knee nudge his own. It shouldn’t feel ascomforting as he does.

Sandy concedes that with a nod before looking at Ian.“Anyone know about you?”

“Mandy,” Ian says immediately and Mickey can’t helpfeeling the barest sense of jealousy. Shit would be so much fucking easier ifMandy knew about him too. Too bad the thought of telling her makes him sick tohis stomach.

“She knows I’m gay,” Ian explains. “But not about meand Mickey. Same goes for my family.”

Sandy nods and looks like she’s about to say morebefore Ian’s phone goes off. Mickey watches him fish it out of his pocket andcheck a text. His eyes immediately find Mickey’s when he looks up. “It’s Fiona,”he says apologetically. “I gotta bail.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Sandy hopsup from the bed and spins to face them. “Well, I’m gonna go to the bathroom,”she announces. “And I’m gonnaremember to lock the door.”

Mickey flips her off as she disappears into hisbathroom but he’s silently grateful for the moment of privacy. As soon as she’slocked the door behind her Ian shuffles to the edge of the bed and moves closerinto Mickey’s space.

Mickey holds still, unsure whether he wants to pullIan in or push him away.

“Don’t freak out on me, Mick,” Ian requests quietlyand Mickey doesn’t think, just leans in and brushes their lips together. Iandraws him in again before he can pull away, kissing him once, twice, threetimes before letting him go.

“Sandy’s cool,” Mickey says, forcing his eyes up fromIan’s lips to meet his gaze. “I trust her.”

“Good,” Ian murmurs. “Call me later, okay?”

“Yeah, I guess. If I remember,” Mickey hedges,feeling a grin work its way onto his face as Ian fists a hand in his t-shirt topull him in.

“Call me later,” Ian repeats, punctuating his orderwith a kiss before he releases Mickey.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Gallagher,” Mickey blustersbut it’s all bravado and he has to work extra hard not to let himself smile.

Ian flips him off, walking backward towards the dooruntil his hand lands on the handle and he finally turns around. Mickey watcheshim go and ignores the way his heart twists. Once Ian’s gone Mickey takes asteadying breath and calls out to Sandy.

“He’s gone. You can come out now.”

Sandy opens the door way too quickly which suggestsshe’d been just waiting for her cue but Mickey tries not to think about thefact she might’ve overheard anything. She takes Ian’s seat against the wallwhen she returns, shoving Mickey’s legs out of the way with her foot.

“So you like him?” she asks without preamble andMickey feels his insides seize up.

“It’s just sex,” he says with a scoff, forcing hisexpression to stay neutral.

Sandy snorts and immediately calls bullshit. “Youtellin’ me you two’ve been fuck buddies for a year and a half and you don’tcare about him even a little bit? His dick can’t be that great.”

“You haven’t seen his dick,” Mickey says, huffing alaugh before instantly clamping his mouth shut.

Sandy notices the panicked look on his face andlaughs. “First time joking about it out loud, huh?”

“It’s weird having someone know,” he mumbles, shrugginghalf-heartedly as he picks at his comforter beneath him.

Sandy nods like she understands and she does, hesupposes. “You didn’t answer the question though.”

Mickey squirms, knowing he could lie but for somereason he doesn’t want to. “I don’t know. It’s just easy with him.”

Sandy looks surprised for a beat before the amusedsmirk is back. “That’s the gayest shit you’ve ever said.”

Mickey huffs, rolling his eyes, but weirdly, he almostfeels like smiling. “Shut the fuck up.”

“For what it’s worth,” Sandy says, looking oddlysincere. “Going by the puppy dog eyes he kept shooting you after I showed up,it looks like he likes you too.”

Mickey stares down at his hands as he processes that.The fact that someone has even paid attention to the way Ian looks at him ishard to wrap his head around. The fact that someone knows about him and Ian at all is hard to wrap his head around.But a part of him – and he’s surprised how big a part – feels sort of comfortedby it. Makes him feel like it’s real.

As Sandy smoothly changes the subject to the girl she’sbeen sort of seeing he thinks maybe her knowing might not be so bad.

#gallavich #ian x mickey #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #sandy milkovich #shameless #my fics #asks #Anon

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pynkhues · 4 years

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i know that the audacity of what im about to ask is off the charts bc you're already too good to us, writing fic left and right and updating a lot soon but im SO weak over the parenting group!AU that im right here to beg for a snippet of it, if you feel like sharing!

Haha, the audacity is not off the charts at all! I can give you a snippet! Sorry it’s coming a little later – when you sent this to me this morning, I was like ‘oh god, everything I have is too ugly to post’ haha, so it gave me an excuse to tidy up a scene I’d drafted already which is fun!

I will say as just a heads up, I’m operating now on a one-out-one-in system for multi-chaptered WIPs. So when I finish CYF (which is basically done, just got to post the epilogue!), I’ll be starting to post the pirate au, and when I finish See You in the Light, I’ll be starting to post this parents group au, and then finally when I finish If It Wasn’t for All the Lights, I’ll start to post the BDSM au! It’s probably a deeply flawed system, but it’s the one I’m going ahead with, haha.

Anyway!

A snippet of the parents group au!

“C’mon, pop,” Rio grunts, trying to get the tabs free on the side of the diaper as Marcus kicks out his legs, squirming up the back of the change mat like he’s trying to slip up on out of the thing, and shit, the last thing he needs is the kid to smear Rhea’s Earth Mama Angel Bottom Balm up the back of his new hoodie.

“I have spare diapers if you need to borrow one,” Beth says at the change table beside him, having apparently gotten Jane into her new one in record speed, and Rio lets his gaze stick for a second, watching as she makes even easier work of getting Jane’s thrashing legs back into her pink polka dot leggings, like it’s nothing at all. It’s enough to make his jaw rock, his attention twisting back to Marcus, trying to get the tab unstuck again, but his fingers are still oily with the diaper rash cream, and Marcus’ face is gettin’ redder, and he just can’t get his grip.

He tugs Marcus back towards him, dropping a hand to his son’s belly, tickling a little to try and calm him down, even as he levels Beth with an irritated look.

“Yeah, what part of this looks like the diaper’s the issue?”

Somewhere outside, he hears her friend laughing, the sound loud and warm over the pinging arcade machines and the banging of the bowling balls hitting the polished floor of the lanes, the crack of one hitting pins, and - - and he ain’t being fair.

Knows that.

It’s not her fault he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Still, when he glances sideways at her again, she’s unbothered by his tone – not pissed like Rhea would be, or wounded like his ma – and something about that bothers him more than it should. Instead, Beth shrugs, fixing her gaze back down on her daughter.

“It just looks like it’s one of those organic ones, right?” she says, gently lifting Jane to put her onto her belly for a few minutes of tummy time – just like Nance had told ‘em to in class – before turning to better look at Rio, her eyes tired as she watches him yank again on the tab of Marcus’ diaper. “I tried those with Kenny, and I just find the tabs always - -”

Riiiiiiiip.

He can feel his pulse in his throat as his cream-covered fingers clench around a handful of torn diaper, can feel it even harder behind his eyes, his blood thrumming hot beneath his skin and damn, it ain’t anger, it’s just - -

Fuckin’ exhaustion.

He pulls the diaper out from underneath Marcus’ bare, wet-with-diaper-cream ass and stamps his foot hard down on the peddle of the bin beside the change table, tossing the whole damn thing in with more force than necessary, and he’s expecting Elizabeth to have that look on her face again – that one that’s some mix of pity and judgement or even worry at seein’ a guy like him snap – but it ain’t even really a look at all. She’s just magicked up one of her kids’ diapers from that Mary Poppins bag of hers, and holds it out to him.

“If you loosen the tabs and open it up a bit before you get it under him it’ll be easier too,” she offers, and Rio grunts, plucking it from her hand and fixing his attention back on Marcus’ flailing legs, sucking in a breath to calm his frayed nerves, before gently lifting his son again to get the diaper up underneath him, adjusting it to get it in the right spot, trying to avoid Marcus’ kicking feet, and it’s just - - sudden.

That’s the thing.

Because Marcus’ legs calm down right in time with Beth’s arm suddenly pressing into Rio’s, and Rio blinks up to see Beth reached over and her finger is curled in Marcus’ tiny fish, and Rio tears his confused gaze away from Beth to look up and see his son smiling, that one that makes him look like the whole damn sun, and he keeps smiling, even when he shoves his fist – still clutchin’ Beth’s finger – right up into his mouth.

And he’s gonna stop it – ain’t like he loves other people’s kids chewing on his knuckles – but he finally gets Marcus properly into the clean diaper, and before he can do anything else, Beth’s just started talking.

“That is a strong grip,” she whispers, so quiet it’s almost like she doesn’t want Rio to hear, and her voice is light and bright in a way he ain’t really used to hearing. “And very warm slobber, which is what you want from slobber. I mean, can you even imagine cold slobber? Like a ghost. I will say Billy from class has some weirdly cold slobber, so you stay away from him, mister.”

Rio just - - blinks, his brow furrows, his lips parting, but when he opens them all the way, no words come out. Instead he just stands there like a dumbass, watching this woman half-bent over her kid and his at the change table of a bowling alley, her strawberry blonde hair falling down, concealing her face so all Rio can see is his son’s, and how whatever it is she’s doing makes his son happy, and he can’t really explain any of it, but he just - -

“Oh my god, Paulie! Twins!”

“Amber, don’t - -”

Whatever Paulie was about to say is lost to the rest of the parents’ room as Rio spins to see a skinny, leggy blonde thrust a toddler with milkshake-vomit down his shirt at some guy with frosted tips like this is the fuckin’ 90s, and dart towards them in a wave of too-sweet perfume. She’s so fuckin’ quick (or maybe just - - y’know - - awake given her kid’s old enough to vomit milkshake instead of formula), instantly peering over at Marcus and Jane on the change tables, an easier feat now that Beth’s standing up again, her finger reclaimed, rolling Jane back onto her back on the mat.

Amber’s cooing is instant, and Rio sighs, grabbing Marcus’ pants from where he’d slung them over his shoulder and starting to shake them out.

“Oh my goooodddd, they’re like those ones you see on TV! Paulie!! Look!! Like, one’s just like mommy, and one’s just like daddy.”

Which - - Rio blinks, looking sideways at Beth, who just seems to be watching Amber with that same neutral, Stepford Wife-look she gets in class. Rio sets his jaw, shaking his head, as he starts to bunch the pants up in his hands, ready to put them on Marcus, opening his mouth to correct the other woman.

“Nah, they ain’t - -”

“You think so?”

The words are offered so suddenly, so sharply, that Rio’s head spins back around to look at Beth again, his eyebrows raised at her interruption, but she doesn’t look back at him, just keeps her gaze fixed on Amber. She wrinkles her nose a little, purses her lips, before dropping a hand back to the change table while leaning forwards a little, almost conspiratorially.

“We’ve been thinking about signing them up for auditions, but I don’t know,” she waves a hand suddenly at Rio, who only blinks at her. “James here thinks it might not be the best idea.”

And okay, for starters, fuckin’ James? She really wants to play him like that? But also - - just - - y’know. What the fuck? Rio stares at her, taking in her widening eyes and her baggy mama sweater that does exactly zero to hide the fact that she’s stacked, but also the fact that she’s holdin’ herself kinda different all of a sudden. Like she’s caught him looking, her gaze darts towards him, and it’s so quick he almost misses it, the way she just sort of - -

Shrugs.

Rio scoffs a little – a sound Amber clearly reads as about the audition and not about this whole damn show – and turns around, putting on a smile for Marcus as he finishes bunching up the pants and pushing them up over his tiny feet.

“Men are always weird about this stuff, but you guys should totally be auditioning them! Like, I could literally see them in commercials for formula. You know they always put the cutest ones in them, because they want to trick regular people into thinking that their product’s gonna like, magic you a better-looking baby.”

Which - - look, Rio can’t exactly say it’s a surprise. He’s pretty sure his sister changed her kids’ brand of juice because one of the ads had one of the little girl’s playin’ Daisy Doctor instead of Holly Housewife. His thoughts are interrupted though when Marcus sneezes, and Rio leans over enough to grab a tissue from Beth’s diaper bag, vaguely aware of Paulie rounding the change tables for the sink, and tugging off his own kids’ shirt and it’s really only then that Rio realises he hasn’t even blinked at the smell of vomit, which - -

Okay, actually, that could be the fifteen years working in a bar.

“You know, I think I’ve heard that,” Beth says, and the girl makes a humming noise, her bowling shoes tapping a little on the tiled floor.

“Well, that’s an insider secret for you. I lived in LA for like, ever. It was almost two years. I mean, closer to one, but that’s basically 40 Hollywood years. I even once auditioned to play a mom in a Baby’s Only commercial. I mean I didn’t get it, but I think it was because I was like, too in shape, y’know?”

Which - - shit, Rio coughs a little to cover a sound he doesn’t even know, a laugh? A scoff? Why the hell is she even talkin’ to this woman?

“Wow,” Beth says though, her voice loaded with concern. “That’s gotta be discrimination.”

“I know right?”

And it’s Jane who wobbles at least, her bottom lip quivering, her legs kicking, and Beth turns around instantly, humming softly back down at her daughter, and before Rio can help it, his gaze darts over to her, watching as her face softens, her eyes glaze over, like they do sometimes, and he thinks of saying somethin’ to her, but shit, what? He doesn’t know jack about her.

A wave of perfume hits them again, and the second he finishes getting Marcus’ pants on, picks him up, turns around at the same time Beth does with Jane, Amber’s right in front of them, her gaze darting between Jane and Marcus, like she’s not sure which one to look at first.

Finally, she just sighs, clutching a hand forlornly to her chest.

“Like, I’m not even kidding. You made two really nice babies. Like, Paulie, tell them I’m not kidding.”

Over at the sink, Paulie grunts again, holding the toddler’s shirt under a furious stream of water, and Rio stares for a minute, watching the guy morosely clean up toddler vomit while the kid licks the rim of the sink. Rio resists the urge to gag as he bounces Marcus a little on his hip.

“How’d you two even meet anyway?”

And at least that much he should’ve expected. Rio shakes his head, gaze fixing back on Amber, the words ready on his tongue, but before he can say a damn thing, Beth’s cut him off again.

“It sounds so weird, but it was actually at an underwater research center.”

Which - - okay - - what?

His gaze flicks back to Beth, but she ain’t looking back at him. She’s just got Jane curled into her chest, nestling her face into her breast, while Beth hums a little, just - - blatantly fuckin’ lying.

“I was studying - - ” outside, a bowling ball hits the floor hard. “How sound affects - -“ she fingers her pearl necklace with the hand not clutching Jane, “Oysters, because I am a scientist, and James here was researching - - ” Beth’s gaze darts around, fixing on Marcus in Rio’s arms. “Marco Polo.”

Before Rio’s even had time to catch up to that, Paulie blinks up, confused, from his spot at the sink.

“In Detroit?”

It’s enough to make Beth stutter, her eyes blinking rapidly, and he really should just leave her to fix this herself, should leave her there gaping like a fish, scrambling for the tail-end of her own lie, and get back out to the group, but - - Rio sucks in a breath - - Marcus would be bare-assed right now if it wasn’t for her.

“Nah, man, west coast. We just moved back here to be close to family with the twins,” he drawls with a shrug, and maybe that makes it worth it – how quickly Beth reels around to look at him, and - - shit, have her eyes always been that blue? Rio blinks, jerks his head back around to Amber, rolling his shoulders back to undo the sudden knot in them. “One of those things, yeah? We met workin’ out there, but turned out we were both from here.”

He means to leave it at that. Should, really, but all he can think about is her in class – prim and proper and that look again, like she’s judging him, and she got them into this, right? Before he can think twice, he drops his free hand to her lower back, smoothing it around to hold the soft hip furthest from him, smiling toothlessly as Beth stiffens and then pointedly, deliberately, relaxes, while Amber holds her hand to her chest again, hums an: “Aww, that’s how you know it’s meant to be!”

“That’s right,” Rio replies, and he watches Beth turn her face up to meet him, her gaze darting across his face like she’s trying to figure something out, and shit, he’s just trying to match what she’s laying down. After a moment, Beth spins into him, her free arm dipping around his back, and something in him sparks hot and he just - - he hadn’t known how fucking small her hands were until one squeezes at his waist.

“Right, honey,” she says, voice high and too-sweet. “I was just so lucky. And speaking of our families, we should really get back to them.”

After that, it’s easy enough to pack up the last of the diaper bags, for Amber to dip down to help Paulie and the kid, and for them to slip out again under the distraction, and it’s just fuckin’ weird, he thinks, to watch that little character Beth had invented – all ease and charm – slip off her shoulders like a cloak, and he means to let it go, because what skin is it off his nose if she’s some sort of pathological liar? But as they duck between the groups of sprawling teenagers and middle America families ordering fries and picking bowling ball weights, guys shoving each other at arcade games, and kids feeding quarters into claw machines, he just - - itches.

So maybe he steps a little slower, matching her pace, maybe he looks at her, amused, a little goading as he says: “So you in some secret, new mama improv group, or what?”

And Beth just - -

Shrugs, and shit, she doesn’t even look at him when she says:

“You don’t ever get bored of just being you?”

Rio blinks, his step slowing all over again, taking in her tired look, the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, that shirt she’s wearing, stained with grubby children’s fingers and milk, that damn new mama smell that’s always up his nose with her, and he just thinks - - nah, not really, but before he has the chance to say it, it’s like she’s read it on his face. She hoists a snuffling Jane up a little higher and moves faster than she has any right to. Back across the bowling alley, back into their lane, nestled in the shelter between her friend and her sister, away from him.

#parents group au #one day you will have a title #inyoursheets

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years

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Max getting jealous of Billy's and El's relationship cause she got the big brothers always wanted right off the bat while max suffered with douchebag billy for years. Angst ensues, naturally.

Yes. yes. And YES. (I hope you don’t mind that I mixed these two!!)

Okay i have so many thoughts about this and w/ every little thing i write that includes Billy and El i think about what it must do to Max. bc i love Max and I wanna give her hugs and ohmygod guys MAX.

(And i should probably preface this by saying I haven’t read Runaway Max so i don’t necessarily know what’s canon but also i’ve been melting canon down to what i want it to be so i guess this won’t be very different from what I normally do, huh??)

Anyway i talked about it in the ask prior to this but I Highly Believe that Billy and Max’s relationship pre-move-out-mayhem was bitchy at most. Like I think they were snarky and a little rude to each other but they were still supportive. Bc they lived in a house w/ a man who got mad so frequently. and i don’t think Neil ever touched or ever will touch Max (i have extended thoughts on this but we don’t have to get into it here, i’ll just leave it at the gist) but Max knows something is wrong. Sees the bruises on Billy’s face and hears the yelling and the harsh sounds and harsher words. Never ever talks about it bc Billy always barks at her if she tries. But she’ll let him have the last popsicle he loves so much or she’ll let him take as much time as he wants fixing his hair in the bathroom in the morning or just any little thing that makes something even a little better. Bc she’s still a kid at this point, there’s not a lot she can do, but she can do little things like that.

And i headcanon Billy as having been a brat but still doing things for her. Like when he has to babysit her and he’ll take her down to the boardwalk and buy her an ice cream but he’s like: “Don’t get used to it.” as if he didn’t just do something super nice. He does her hair for her bc as a kid she was Helpless at putting her hair up and so he started helping her and just never stopped. Did her hair for her bc it was easier than sitting down to teach her. Cooks dinners for her or even w/ her when Neil and Susan are out to dinner or out of town or whatever. Drives her to school every day when he gets a car and they argue over music but really she kind of likes his music, even though she’d never tell him. She gets into some of the bands he likes and steals a couple of the band shirts he lifted from stores when they get too small for him. He teaches her how to skate and even gives her his board when he gets his car. She’s ecstatic about it and he brushes it off by pulling at her hair and saying: “Whatever, dipshit, now I won’t have to drive you to the candy store or wherever it is you go.”

She punches his arm.

He chuckles and kicks at her heel lightly as they walk.

They just… they’re brats but they’re SIBLINGS. And yeah they’re half siblings but Billy is adamant in S2 about the fact that they’re family. That boy loves Max and Max loves Billy bc they grew up w/ each other and faced so much shit together.

But right before the move… and during the move… and after the move…

Billy gets so rough. He’s angry all the time. Stops doing her hair and yells at her when she asks. Laughs when she tries and fails to the point where she just leaves her hair down and unbrushed bc it’s just easier. He’s on edge all the time and takes it out on her and he vaguely sees himself doing it but he’s red and angry and uncaring bc fuck this fuck all of this.

He blames everything he sees bc it’s easy and facing the reality of his whole situation is hard and he’s just tired. Wants to be given a break but he hasn’t been given a break for years now so he’s absolutely exhausted. He kicks and punches walls and he slams his door in Max’s face when she asks him a question and he shuts himself away bc it’s easier to do that than face anything and it’s bad. But Billy isn’t sure what qualifies as bad and good anymore, he just knows what hurts and what doesn’t and everything hurts but hiding almost makes it feel like it doesn’t. He used to not mind being his sister’s keeper but now he fucking has to babysit her goddamn 24/7 and he’s in a new town where he knows NOBODY and he can’t be open here bc it’s in the fucking midwest and he’s just angry and hurt and so damn fearful so he gets mad. Stressed. Takes it out on everything and everyone and Max.

So Max loses her brother.

She loses him mentally and emotionally and then she loses him physically.

Bc Hop finds out, and he adopts Billy, and then Billy’s gone. But Billy makes it very clear to her once he’s gone that “If anything and I mean absolutely anything happens with Neil, you tell me straight away. Got it? I’m living with the goddamn Chief of Police now, we’ll get that guy in jail so fast I swear.”

Max just nods.

But nothing ever happens. Neil is kind of a dick but he doesn’t get as angry. He’s strict but not physical. It makes Max angry though bc she hates the thought that it was just Billy that made him so horrible. She doesn’t wanna believe it. Sure this man gave her her brother but she hates him for pushing him away.

And Max loves El. She really does. She loves El to the moon and back, hanging out with her is an absolute blast, having a friend who’s a girl feels like a godsend sometimes bc boys are stupid and girls are soft and pretty and lovely.

And she tries real hard not to be jealous of El. She really really does. And she tries real hard not to get mad at Billy either, really. It’s just that…

It sucks. And it hurts. Bc Billy is so calm with El. He’s so brotherly and caring and good with her. He takes her to ice cream and does her hair and jokes around with her. He lets her brush his hair and he buys cookies and stuff for her and they have little inside jokes now. He’s soft and gentle with her. He shows her new music and he hugs her all the fucking time and wow it sucks.

Because Max had to deal with all of it before it became this. Saw all of Billy’s pain and felt pain in her heart over it and then saw through Billy giving her pain and felt physical pain over that and then saw him leave and now feels emotional pain over the fact that she doesn’t get him anymore.

And he still drives her to school everyday. He still drives her around when she asks, even if he bitches about it. He shows her new music and he willingly hands over his too small band shirts. He’s still a protective little shit over her. He hangs out with her and messes around w/ her when she goes over to visit El.

But the thing is… El gets to keep him… and Max has to go home to no one.

And Max likes her mom. Would never wanna leave her mom. Her mom is the one thing that keeps her grounded to her previous life- her life even before Billy. Dealing with dickish Neil is sometimes worth it bc she still has her mom.

But her mom isn’t really home all that much. And even when she is, hanging out with her isn’t as cool or fun; sometimes it’s kind of draining. She just wants her brother back.

And Max is a goddamn firecracker too. Just like her brother. She’s hotheaded and straightforward and she just gets so frustrated bc whatthefuck. But she doesn’t wanna lash out at El bc it’s not El’s fault and she doesn’t really wanna lash out at Billy bc she’s happy he’s happy now but goddamnit she had to deal with all of the trauma and now El gets him at his best without the worst and she’s just pissed.

So sometimes she’ll get fed up. She’ll come over to hang out and she hears Billy and El making their own little inside jokes and watches Billy pick El up and swing her around while El giggles and sees Billy helping El read things like titles to movies or cereal boxes or ice cream cartons and Max’s face will get red and she’ll storm out of the cabin grumbling about skating home.

And Billy doesn’t like that, doesn’t really want her skating home from here, so he follows her out, leaving El inside, shouting: “Wait up, Max, I’ll drive you.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Quit being a brat, you shouldn’t be skating that far this late.”

“Me skating home never worried you before.”

“Cut it out, I just don’t want anything happening to you-”

And Max turns, face red, hair in flames around her head as it whips around her and she yells: “You’re not my brother anymore!”

And Billy is seriously taken aback. Bc to him he never stopped being her brother but here Max is, angry and spitting in his direction with her anger, gripping her board tight and her nose crunching up in that way he almost forgot about.

Max huffs.

“Just go have fun with your new sister.”

Billy’s chest flares up.

“Fine, shitbird!”

Max gets on her board and shoots a middle finger up behind her as she skates away. Billy slams the door when he heads back inside.

And they make up real fast. A few days later El wants to see Max to go shopping and there’s no one to drive them but Billy. So they’re a little pissy with each other but Billy gets them a couple of sodas and Max hip checks him a few times so he knows they’re cool again.

But there’s still that tense feeling in her chest. That sick feeling in her throat. That pounding in her head as El tries on a bunch of shirts and Billy jokes around with El and ruffles her hair and pokes her forehead.

She watches them interact and it presses at her chest too hard so she forces herself to speak. She needs it off her chest she needs it gone.

“Billy?”

“Mm?” He grunts out.

“Do you… like El more than me?”

And god something about it cracks Billy’s heart. Bc he loves Max, he really does. He’s done so much in his life to protect her and help her and teach her. They grew up for years together. They’ve been through too much shit for him to not love her. and he’s never seen her so self conscious before.

There’s a long pause of them sitting there, Billy’s head spinning a bit, before he looks to her and takes a dramatic sigh.

“You know… to be honest… I hate all of you runts just about the same.”

He chuckles when she punches him. “I’m being serious!”

“So am I! You big group of nerds leech all my money,” Billy begins counting the list on his fingers, “make me your personal driver, keep me from fucking my boyfrie-”

“Shut up! God you’re so grody!” Max shoves at his shoulder.

“Grody? Excuse me Max, grody? Who are you?”

She shoves him again and sighs. Billy watches her.

“What’s got you so worked up, brat?”

Max grumbles, nose scrunching up before she gives an angry huff.

“I hate this. I don’t want to hate it but… you’re supposed to be my brother.” She’s angry, face turning red but there’s almost tears in her eyes and Billy hates seeing them there. “And El gets you when you’re nice.” she tilts her head back against the wall and looks up to the ceiling. “I bet she doesn’t even know how much of a dick you can be.”

Billy chuckles.

“I’d beg to differ. I’m still being a dick.”

“Doubt it.”

“Seriously, Max. You know me, I was born a jerk.”

“Were not.” she mumbles. He flicks her ear in response.

She yelps. “Hey! Jerk!”

“See?” Billy laughs and lightly shoves her shoulder. “Quit worrying about it. I’m serious. Yeah El gets me now that I’m in a good spot but you understand me, y’know? We get each other. Or whatever.”

Max rolls her eyes but seems pretty pleased with the answer. Billy gives a satisfied grin before folding his hands behind his head and leaning back.

“Besides…” he drawls. “It’s no secret that Will is my actual favorite.”

Max punches his side and Billy makes a pained noise over his chuckle.

“See? Will wouldn’t hit me!”

Max rolls her eyes again but she’s smiling. She’s glad Billy still thinks of himself as her brother bc she doesn’t want him to go away. She lost him once and doesn’t wanna lose him again.

And yeah it still kinda sucks… but she likes the relationship she has with Billy. Plus, after their little talk Billy starts being overly nice to the point where it’s clearly a joke. He grabs the sides of her head and gives a big, dramatic kiss to the top of it. He scoops her up into bone crushing hugs. He holds doors open for her and acts real dumb about it and starts calling her things like “Sister dear” to the point where Max just says: “Cut it out you’re being annoying. Just go back to being a jerk.”

He laughs and punches her shoulder lightly.

“You got it, shitbird.”

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maydaymadier · 4 years

Text

Fannar Playlist Breakdown

idk, I’m procrastinating so I’m gonna explain all the songs on the Fannar playlist

Immigrant Song, Led Zeppelin basically my inspirations are showing here, Fannar’s original concept was ‘Well the MCU writers can do whatever the fuck they want with Loki so so can I’ so I pulled this one from the Thor: Ragnarok soundtrack, on a lesser note “We come from the land of the ice and snow/From the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow/The hammer of the gods/W'ell drive our ships to new lands/To fight the horde, and sing and cry/Valhalla, I am coming!” and he’s literally from a place called The Frozen North

Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen The only family member whose opinion matters to Fannar anymore is his mom. There’s also just the general level of dramatic thinking that happens when grievously injured and believing you’re about to die. “Mama, ooh,/Didn't mean to make you cry,/If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,” is probably about what he was thinking when he was

Bleeding Out, Imagine Dragons bleeding out at the bottom of an abyss, back mangled and painfully aware that he was about to die, a Fannar backstory jam, this one lines up with when Fannar made his warlock pact with Auril

Monster, Lady Gaga He just vibes with this one, I think Fannar would fucking love this song

Judas, Lady Gaga Once again, I just think he vibes with this one, he just vibes with it

Fox on the Run, Sweet OH MAN, this works on multiple counts. Fannar starts off the campaign as a ‘fox on the run’ bc he’s like, a trickster running away, avoiding home, ALSO “I - don't wanna know your name/'Cause you don't look the same/The way you did before/Okay - you think you got a pretty face/But the rest of you is out of place/You looked alright before” works super well bc Fannar literally grew up with a different face, and he lost it bc of backstory so this would be a random person from The Frozen North talking about him.

Surrender, Cheap Trick I don’t know, I think I just got Fannar vibes from it? A family with a really weird, vaguely dysfunctional dynamic? The parents have weird pasts and that’s reflected in the kids? Yeah, that checks out.

Dead and Gone, The Black Keys Early in his pact Fannar, still presumed dead by anyone who’d previously known him, and at his patron’s beck and call “So long/Why you waiting so long?/After every single word is said/I'm feeling dead and gone”

Sinister Kid, The Black Keys Fannar, especially early on, was wildly, blatantly self-destructive, not even trying to hide it. “A sinister kid is a kid who/Runs to meet his maker/A drop dead sprint from the day he's born/Straight into his maker's arms/And that's me, that's me/The boy with the broken halo/That's me, that's me/The devil won't let me be”

The Kids From Yesterday, My Chemical Romance idk, I don’t remember why I originally added this one. But it’s probably just some Fannar-reflecting-on-his-past from time to time

Sleep, My Chemical Romance Admittedly, Fannar’s done some pretty shitty things, but he’s a lot harder on himself than anyone else is, “Undeserving of your sympathy 'Cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did” so it’s easier to just own it and revel in the idea that he’s a bad person who isn’t sorry than admit to anything.

Once Upon a December, Liz Callaway (Anastasia) BACKSTORY JAM!!!!!! This is like,,,,baby Fannar, his present self is so detached from who he was as a small child that that whole part of his life doesn’t really feel real. He knows it happened, but it’s such a 180 he can’t properly wrap his head around it.

One Way Or Another, Blondie Early on in the campaign he was being tracked down by someone, who later turned out to be his Nana Frostyears (his childhood governess, i guess i’ll call her a governess), tracking him down to bring him home to save the kingdom

Unknown Brother, The Black Keys This is more from his brother Orvar’s perspective, Orvar trying to wrap his head around what happened to his baby brother Fannar as an outsider looking in. “Though I never met you/And we spoke not a word/I'll never forget you/Through stories that I have heard/For you unknown brother/My baby's mother's pained/Because your soul is in heaven/But your memory remains”

Death By Glamour, Toby Fox The ranger (Isorropia) and the druid/DM1 (Thrain) were talking about Fannar amongst themselves and decided that it fit him and I was inclined to agree.

Don’t Stop Me Now, Queen Fannar, a few years post-backstory, come into himself, still an impulsive bastard but he’s having fun now.

Dinner & Diatribes, Hozier Look, I’m sorry but a lot of songs are gonna be on here bc they’re horny and this is one of them. This could be Fannar’s pov, it could be an attractive stranger interested in Fannar’s pov, it could go either way. “Honey, this club here is stuck up/Dinner and diatribes/I knew it from the first look of/The look of mischief in your eyes”

Movement, Hozier yet another Horny Song, but this time a little more, awed by the other person bc when Fannar decides he wants to sleep with someone he goes big or goes home and sets his sights on impressive people......like a dragon “I still watch you when you're groovin'/As if through water from the bottom of a pool/You're movin' without movin'/And when you move, I'm moved”

Blame It On The Girls, MIKA OH BOY this pretty aptly sums up Fannar’s attitude and attitudes abt various family members, this song is just, a perfect summary of Fannar, though I guess it’s more someone describing him as opposed to Fannar saying it himself “Blame it on the girls who know what to do/Blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you/Blame it on your mother for the things she said/Blame it on your father but you know he's dead”

Burning Pile, Mother Mother sometimes Fannar’s bullshit, baggage, and mistakes catch up with him and the easiest thing to do is to torch it. why would he ever actually deal with it fully? “All my troubles on a burning pile/All lit up and I start to smile/If I, catch fire then I change my aim/Throw my troubles at the world again”

cherubim, serpentwithfeet ANOTHER horny song but this is specifically abt someone! There’s a character that I have Fannar paired off with in my canon-compliant writing, Renault, the War King of Ragnas. Who, well, Fannar started off as a consort but then it turned out that he really liked him, and he felt the same way and it’s probably the best romantic relationship of Fannar’s life so he feels a certain level of devotion to Renault. “Boy, every time I worship you/My mouth is filled with honey/Boy, as I build your throne/I feel myself growing”

Savior, St. Vincent [lord farquaad pointing meme] horny, Fannar is more than willing to fill sexual roles for people, fulfill what other people think of him because that’s easier than having his own concrete identity, though he knows it has its limits “You dress me up in a nurse's outfit/It rides and sticks to my thighs and my hips...... Honey, I can't be your savior/Love you to the grave and farther/Honey, I am not your martyr”

Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue), Hozier [lord farquaad pointing meme but deep fried] HORNY Look, Fannar knows what he’s about, and also maybe sometimes he can be horny in an emotional way that makes him a little bit sappy abt the present events “Be thankful some know it lovingly/There the reason comes in the common tongue of your loving me”

Low Lays the Devil, The Veils okay, I originally put this on here bc I think it was a recommended song on a different playlist and i wanted to save it and so i saved it to Fannar’s playlist bc it fit that one best. Overall, just a general allusion to Fannar’s fiendish heritage as a tiefling I suppose and also how he generally likes to hype people up to by proxy hype himself up “High as the heavenly sea/Low lays the devil in me...Come lay your head on my lap/And let your hair fall back/You've got to live with yourself”

Save A Horse (Ride a Cowboy), Big & Rich Okay, I added this jokingly bc I managed to convince myself that Fannar would fucking love this song, absolutely jam out to it while he’s fucking wasted. Also, maybe his type is ‘Cowboy’ and that’s hella valid of him.

Horns, Bryce Fox He’s a tiefling! A tiefling with very prominent horns! He’s gotta learn to take pride in that shit and learn how to think of them as attractive

It’s Hard to Be Humble, Mac Davis Look, Fannar knows how to hype himself up and strut and preen like the peacock he is, being humble is not a part of his persona

Little Lion Man, Mumford & Sons hahahahaha, scratch through Fannar’s exterior deep enough and you’ll easily find someone who was put through a fucking meat grinder and had his identity crumbled into a million jagged bits. He maybe could have been a great wizard, and insightful advisor to his brother when he became king, but instead he was broken and choked on the poison poured into his mind “Tremble for yourself, my man,/You know that you have seen this all before/Tremble little lion man,/You'll never settle any of your scores/Your grace is wasted in your face,/Your boldness stands alone among the wreck/Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”

You’re My Best Friend, Queen I needed a song for Fannar and Isorropia. Isorropia is his best friend (and tbh he considers her to be like a sister, though he doesn’t really expect her to feel the same way) and he feels very strongly about her. He would kill a man for Rope.

Everybody Wants To Rule the World, Tears For Fears A pretty central even in Fannar’s backstory was his trying to take the throne of his home kingdom and he generally cares about being in control of himself and his situation, having no control over what’s happening to him is not a good time

I Don’t Know What We’re Talking About, Ninja Sex Party Okay, there’s a running thing where whenever we’re in a bathhouse or something I’ll just shout out “Fannar disassociates in the bath” which started off as a joke but then I realized Fannar doesn’t like being alone with his thoughts or his body. He didn’t grow up with this tiefling body and as much as he can claim to be comfortable with himself, he can’t always manage to put his money where his mouth is. There was one notable time where Fannar was completely checked out in the baths in this inn in Vulcanica and the party managed to chase a guy down into an alley and fight him, all while Fannar stayed sat in the bath. (See also, this is why Fannar is such a promiscuous character, he’s trying to assert confidence in his body by being overtly sexual)

Catch Me Now I’m Falling, The Kinks Ya boi fell. He notably fell into a massive fucking abyss and it would have killed him had he not made his pact with Auril

Emperor’s New Clothes, Panic! at the Disco Big Fannar vibes, he’s big and dramatic and as someone who grew up among nobility and hated it he knows how to clock fake people who clothe themselves in pretension and importance. Also lowkey speaks to his ambitions to become an archfey himself someday “Sycophants on velvet sofas/Lavish mansions, vintage wine/I am so much more than royal/Snatch your chain and mace your eyes/If it feels good, tastes good/It must be mine/Heroes always get remembered/But you know legends never die”

Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time, Panic! at the Disco What can I say besides Fannar is a party animal

Somebody To Love, Queen HE’S JUST A BIG DUMB GAY WHO MASKS HIS EMOTIONS BUT DEEP DOWN WOULD REALLY LIKE TO JUST GENUINELY BE LOVED, HE’S GOT PLATONIC LOVE IN THE FORM OF HIS INTER-PARTY FRIENDSHIPS BUT HEY HE’D LIKE SOME ROMANCE TOO PLEASE AND THANKS (SHOUTOUT TO RENAULT)

Viva La Vida, Coldplay More backstory allusion stuff, he was a big dumbass who wanted to rule but his reputation crumbled around him and all of those ambitions became untenable.

#my post #tal plays dnd #fannar #readmore #long post

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milisamuels · 5 years

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okay.... okay here is me again. fourth muses is usually my breaking point but i’ve been watching deadly class and i couldn’t resist myself. i didn’t put wcs under this bc it got so long but still........... plot with her........... please

「 maria gabriela de faria. cisfem. 」have you seen milagros ‘mili’ samuels around yet? i hear she decided to be in PEREGRINIS for their JUNIOR year as a DANCE major. the 22 year old SHEPHERD is known to be exuberant, compassionate, sly and unreliable. ➨ the muse is written by ani. she is 27, in the gmt-3.

i tried to shorten this but i couldn’t so tl;dr - born in venezuela, teenage parents, religious mom, sketchy dad who took her pickpocketing on sundays as a family activity. during the week he was involved in shadier business, mom moved with her to america to get her away from him. death // mom died in a car crash, the samuels took her in. she’s got a kind heart but still some issues with acknowledging private property as something she can’t just take.

maria de los milagros morales was born in valencia, venezuela, on a sunny day, to a complicated life. her parents were barely sixteen, and neither of them had a cent. it was a classic bad boy meets good girl sort of story, except now mili’s mom had many regrets and her dad was still the same troublesome kid he’d always been.

after mili was born, her mom could barely look at her. she was a very religious girl who’d made a terrible mistake that had got her shunned from her family. and she couldn’t help resenting mili. it was hard for mili, having to earn her mother’s love when she couldn’t understand what she’d done to lose it in the first place.

her dad had it easier — he was still living at his own place, only saw mili when he felt like it, and was therefore more of a cool uncle that she loved with a passion. everything he did was amazing in her eyes, and she thought him to be the funniest person in the whole wide world, always coming up with new games for them, and never shutting her out.

mili was about eight when her mother, having slowly grown to care for her baby girl, finally started paying attention to her constant ranting and realized what exactly it was she was doing with her dad. mili was an adorable little girl, very outgoing and always talking to anyone who came near her, which meant she could be very distracting. he’d taught her the rules to all sorts of games that they played on the street — he’d always been light-fingered and it seemed to run in the family, ‘cause she’d turned out to be brilliant at it. if people weren’t careful with their money and they let someone take it from them, it meant they hadn’t cared enough about it in the first place, so it didn’t matter if they took it. it was game, even if it was slowly escalating, and though mili suspected sometimes it wasn’t as okay as her dad made it out to be, she could also tell he was so proud of her for helping him out, and that was enough for her to not give a shit about it.

what mili didn’t know was that pickpocketing was the least dangerous of her dad’s activities, but her mom was quick to find out about all the rest once she started paying attention. he was in deep shit, and her mom had seen enough to know really soon, it would mean trouble for all of them. she’d been saving money for years with mili’s future in mind, and now it seemed like the only chance of her even having one at all was if she got them both out of there.

there’s a gap in the story because mili was a child and she’s not sure how it went down. she knows her mom begged her family to help, and eventually her grandma mentioned something about some religious family in the united states that had some vague connection to theirs. rochester seemed like an unlikely place for them to end up at, but she remembers her mom speaking about reverend samuels like he’d hung the moon. details are fuzzy. they were friends, she thinks. very close friends, it seemed.

death // it had been three years since they’d moved when mili’s mom died in a car crash. at eleven, mili was left alone in a country she was barely starting to get used to, and life seemed pretty bleak. the samuels took her in, and it was the single best thing that had ever happened to her. they were kind and patient, and she had siblings and a big house, and mili had been through enough to know this was the time to be grateful and good. she didn’t question the adoption, it seemed logical. they’d been her mother’s friends, and they were supposed to be doing god’s work, and right now, she needed charity from Him.

she’s a good girl, the kind that’s always ready to lend a hand, sometimes even a little gullible because she just tends to assume people are always trying their best to get by and be good. she knows it’s not always the case — over long nights of her crying because she missed her dad, her mom took care of making sure she never felt like trying to find him again, feeding her horror stories of the things he was involved in that caused her nightmares up until this day. still, she can’t help thinking the best of people, it’s in her blood. what’s also in her blood apparently is some questionable habits she got from her dad, but she’s working on that. sort of.

death // losing tatiana was a big hit for her. she’d done her best to be loved by her family after everything, and though tatiana had been reluctant at first, mili had crawled into her heart eventually and they’d become almost friends. some part of her is irrationally scared her dad may have been somehow involved, that this is all some scheme to get her back to him through destroying her new family bit by bit, but she’d never tell anyone this. she joined the app because she wanted to know more, and it’s easy for her to do the things the app demands her to, because her morals are severely twisted.

#wshedintro #death tw

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firebirdsdaughter · 5 years

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Hey…

… Hey, wireless?

F YOU.

Okay. Thank god for common sense. I accidentally lost my post bc my wireless conked out.

HOWEVER!

I was wise, and copied the contents. so we have lost nothing but the tags. Which weren’t that interesting any way.

So here we go!

In no order: (also, I apologise for any typos my fingers decided they wanted to type a mile a minute… DX)

Aw, Naohisa (still thinking I’m spelling his name wrong) is giving them science lessons…

That Melto loves and Asuna doesn’t get… XD It’s okay Asuna, I’m not sure I understand, either.

Melto’s so starry-eyed, gods love him. XD

ASUNA.

Aw, Tyramigo. It’s okay, Melto, he doesn’t mean it meanly. ^^

They’re really cute though. XD

I guess Kou got the idea to see the world in his head from watching tv…

But I feel like there are better places to get into the river than jumping over this railing…

THAT LITTLE BLINK BEFORE HE SAYS ‘209’ XD

He’s clearly got no idea why that’s shocking. ^^

UI DON’T JUST ACCEPT THIS! DX

I guess she decided that she couldn’t really tell a 209 year old what to do…

This episode officially made me conclude that Ui and Touwa are the smols. They’re the youngest of the siblings. Kou is next, then Melto and Asuna are like… Twins who are slightly older than him. No one can agree which one of them is older. Banba is obviously the eldest and stuck managing them. Maybe until Gold gets here. Unless he’ll have to manage Gold, too.

Touwa’s fast, but Banba outweighs him… A for effort, though, sweetie. <3

To continue reading foreshadowing in everything… I wonder if Touwa commenting he doesn’t think Banba can lose in one v one means we’re eventually going to see just that happen.

Or, potentially, maybe Banba did once lose to someone in one v one?

Or both?

Touwa, honey, I just want you to know I very much support the concept of you and the others just tackling your brother. Like Merry and Pippin w/ Boromir. Just jump him. He could use the hugs.

Banba gazes majestically off into the distance as he prepares to be angsty.

Banba: ‘People will always betray you.’

Me: ‘Who did this to you? SHOW ME SO I CAN STAB THEM W/ THIS FORK TEN MILLION TIMES???’

I so want whoever hurt him like this to be an absolute dickwad and I want to see them get their asses kicked, esp by some truly pissed off little sibs.

By Banba, too, absolutely. But I would kill for an ep where the kids find out what this person did and go on a roaring rampage of protectiveness for their big brother. TT^TT DX

Touwa definitely doesn’t know what happened… DX I think he knew Banba was distrusting towards others and very much a loner, but he looks so sad and confused that I don’t think he knew it went this deep…

I wanna hug my little green gremlin son, too! DX I WANNA HUG ALL OF THEM!

Eh. I’m sure she’s fine.

Mook suit actors, the unsung heroes of any and all Sentai. XD

Hey, Green final slash! And Black again. ^^

XD Touwa. Banba’s just like ‘irritated growl.’ ^^

I’m… Pretty sure Ui just insulted this guy…?

Okay, here’s the thing. I don’t see nobody glowing green and losing life force. So… Did they just decide not to put that effect in, or… Or did the Minusaur actually come from someone else?

Like… Tall Cheese?

Ahem. Sorry. I mean Fita.

Though she’s not glowing either… Augh. I dunno what I’m saying.

Why would they chain up Ui, but not Kou?

Well done, Kou. ^^ Boy’s clever is a fight. XD

… What the heck was that boise and dramatic shot of her face? Where they just trying to remind us she’s an idol? I think it happened when the brothers find her, too… Does it mean something? Hmm… I dunno.

Kou’s reaction is hilarious, though.

Ui’s neck is gonna hurt later… DX

Okay, but later the brothers wake her up just fine? I guess the effects were only temporary… That’s probably why they chained them up, so that they couldn’t escape even when they woke up.

And… Kou’s sense ends here. Why didn’t you call the others, you dork? XD

Hmm… I miss Tankjoh, but I kinda like the new guy’s music…

I think he’s meant to be a drastically different personality. Where Tankjoh was surly and serious, this guy is bombastic and childish.

These are the most badass children I have ever seen.

Actually, that’s not true, but, they’re up there.

I’m wonder if it’s an effect of the brainwashing.

I love that girl in the lavender sweatshirt who just goes for the spinning kick. XD

Touwa probably bothered Banba until he agreed to bring her here. XD Which may have been easier bc Banba probably didn’t want to have to deal w/ her…

Melto thinking ‘oh, crap, she’s pretentious, the only way we’re gonna get her to talk is… *sigh* okay, someone has to take this bullet, it might as well be me…’

Honestly, though, I think the only other person who would possibly be willing to do that is Touwa, and probably not. Asuna wasn’t taking well to getting ordered around, and Banba would never kneel to anyone (… Well… Actually, no comment). My interpretation is that Melto realises she’s rather high and mighty, and that she’ll respond to an act of 'reverence’ like that, and he knows no one else in the room is gonna be willing to do it w/out complaining. So he just steps in to save them all the trouble. Mom friend to the rescue.

Honestly, it’s very sensible of him. ^^

I need to write more w/ Melto… DX

Banba is the back modelling. Bc boy can’t be in a single scene where he isn’t posing in some way at every opportunity.

XD I WAS RIGHT. ^^

Sorry Short Cheese, Banba doesn’t care if you think he has manners (I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to ditch her in the forest earlier XD). Touwa looks slightly miffed, but I think he’s less effected by it coming from you. The only one you’re offending is Asuna. And, actually, I’d advise against that.

Hey, isn’t Asuna also technically a noble?

Asuna’s like ‘First off, how dare you? Second, how dare you? And third… How dare you?’

XD This is even funnier bc of one of my casual ships. ^^

Melto hates this so much, but he’s willing to do it to find out what’s happening. XD Poor baby.

Oh, okay. So the mind control is just his thing.

This is so vague I can’t trust it… I mean, I guess most of it could be on the level, but… Hm. I gotta wonder if they were allowed to escape… And what exactly he’s got on them to have them still be doing this? (Bc next ep pretty much reveals they’re trying to trick the team) Is Short Cheese mind controlled? Is Tall Cheese? They repeat her ‘I would risk my own life to save her’ twice this ep, so I’m guessing Tall Cheese/little sister’s life is still in danger somehow…? I dunno. I guess we’ll learn this weekend.

So… What, you can just teleport? Why didn’t you do that when you were running before? SUSPICIOUS?

Also, I’m not sure I trust these flashbacks either, bc they’re from Short Cheese’s point of view, and next ep indicates she wasn’t being on the level w/ the team. I mean, she’s holding that orange rock in a bottle… But… Did it come from her planet? Is it something they stole from the Druidons? Or is there a part of this story that was left out (actually, that much is obvious bc Short Cheese didn’t mention the rock at all), where the Druidon gave it to her? Too many variables, even if I didn’t know they were up to something.

I should note that it’s pretty obvious they’re not actually evil and are being forced into doing this. They’re only here as guest stars and they’re being promoted as being idols (exhibit A, the abrupt song sequence coming up), so I HIGHLY doubt they’re gonna pull out the rug and make them outright evil.

And, anyway, the next ep preview practically confirms that. XD

Girl in the lavender sweatshirt is ready to kill something, I swear.

I also like the boy in the burgundy and white sweatshirt. XD He’s paying such good attention. ^^

Asuna’s offended, Melto’s somewhere else thinking about Wyzul, Banba doesn’t care and Touwa’s in. XD

Touwa clearly here thinking ‘dear god, I know I never want to go through that… O_o’

Honey, I am so sorry, but I make no promises. DX

That’s a very direct question, but no less then I’d expect from Banba. Though also… Kinda odd? What are you trying to establish here, sweetie? Why are you asking this?

This line is very important, clearly. They repeat it twice. Pretty sure it’s to make us understand that whatever is going on next ep, it’s bc the sisters are trying to protect each other. Like I said, I’m presuming that Tall Cheese is actually still in danger somehow.

WHAT WAS HE TRYING TO ESTABLISH W/ THAT QUESTION? And then he just accepts her answer? I’m confused…

I really can’t tell if he’s finding something odd w/ this, or if he’s accepting it bc he’s sympathising w/ her… DX Tatsuya is being unreadable too well! DX

And then she… Just starts singing? Like, I love this show, but… There could’ve been a better lead up to that.

Though I do love Naohisa reacting to the lights. XD

So… Was this just a random musical interlude, or… Was she doing something? I guess it was so that Kou could hear it and make the connection, but the execution could have gone a little better.

Banba takes that extra moment to pose. XD

Untransformed fight! ^^

I love how Banba just delays transforming to take off. :D

I needed to use a new emoticon.

Kou’s little ‘Ah!’ and pointing when the kids show up! XD

Girl in the lavender sweatshirt is going to cut something.

See, this is an effective use of the singing.

Uh… What. Melto, what does that… Whatever. Sentai logic.

Now he says ‘Okay, Tyra!’ instead of just ‘Tyra!’

SOMEONE TEACH HIM TOUWA AND BANBA’S NAMES!

Banba would be SO AWKWARD. XD

Oh, NOW you transform. XD Well, we wouldn’t have had that beautiful weapon toss if you had before. ^^

See? We bring up the line again, and there’s a weird sound cue? Does it mean anything?

Touwa sees the other smollest sib and must immediately go help her. XD

I do like the improve mobility of this mech. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adored the clusterfuck of orbs that was the Kyuranger mecha, but… It’s nice to seem something more dynamic once in a while?

Kudos the new suit actor, too. Whose name still escapes me… DX

Convenient train tracks. XD Sentai logic.

Actually, just Toku logic.

I love MirNeedle and his honk and his spinning attack. XD

Could you be more tsundere in one sentence???

Touwa’s just like ‘stages of realising your brother is a tsundere, stage 3: acceptance’

Kou doesn’t mind, though. XD

I do think Banba is starting to kind of like the trio, but boy is very damaged and the concept scares him, so he’s trying to fight it as much as possible, even though it’s just kind of a slight, vague fondness at this point.

Like, eventually, he’s going to end up adopting them, it’s going to happen, he’s going to have at least four younger sibs, actually five. But we’re not there quite yet.

I would love a ‘we’re not each other’s only family anymore’ sort of thing from the brothers. Or maybe one of the trio telling them that. XD

One day, a Mosasaurus will be in that empty spot, I bet.

Melto and Banba on the same wavelength. ^^

So… The Minusaur host is dead now?

This is cute, but I already know there’s more to this.

XD Oh, Banba. You’re starting to like them, I know you are. You’re not getting out of this. Though I do get why you really don’t want that to happen.

Though I do think his getting emotional next week is a partially due to it. ^^ Like, yes, there’s the fact that he’s mad at Kou for being too trusting, and that it might be dangerous for all of them/earth, but… I dunno. Probably overthinking.

But I’m gonna wax on about that shot in the preview later, don’t worry. XD

Or worry, if you don’t want to hear my rambling. In… Which case why would you even be reading this.

Melto on point again. XD I really need to write more w/ you… DX

Though on the other hand, I guess there’s a possibility that she could have read it in Naohisa’s papers at the house, or he said it to her. But she didn’t seem interested in the research, and they could just ask Naohisa if he mentioned it.

Hm… Maybe they’re waiting to update the ED until Gold gets here.

Why does Kou have the inflation Soul activated?

… That sounds like he knows way more about economics than he actually does. XD

As far as the preview, I like the drama that seems to be happening. ^^ Maybe they’ll finally give us some slightly more concrete info on what happened to Banba. Or just… Anything about the brothers’ past? And what about that hooded person? The sisters are up to something, but they’re obviously being forced into it somehow, Wyzul is definitely the sneaky type. We’re also heading into May, which means DimeVolcano and possibly Gaisorg/Gaisoulg? Though he wasn’t in any of the scans so even if his figurine is releasing, we likely won’t be seeing him until the very end/month after.

Pleasedon’tbeGoldpleasedon’tbeGoldpleasedon’tbeGold.

There are so many better possibilities. DX I know who I want it to be (even though I don’t strictly know ‘who’ that is XD), but there are other possibilities too.

And while I would like to see next ep, I am also curious about the arc coming after it. I really wanna know if my crazed visual analysis madness was right about it only being the kids who are trapped in Wonderland and Banba is trying to get them out. I wanna know.

Hm… Does anyone know where the ‘newspaper summaries’ come from? Like, we got the ones from 5 to 7… Are we gonna get ones for 8 to 11 at some point?

I am an impatient baby. DX ^^;

That’s all folks! Virtual chocolate eclairs for anyone who read all that. But, actually, that’s not all! I still wanna ramble about something—namely, and silly personal theory/hc of mine.

Bc of this face:

Okay, so. During that conversation where Banba did the whole ‘Kindness can make one weak’ thing, I mentioned that I found Kou’s reaction interesting? Bc it might’ve been in his characterisation to get mad and insist that kindness does not make people weak—esp since he clearly still doesn’t think that. But instead, he just looked a little hurt, and looked sad? Like… It seemed to me he was more saddened that Banba thought that way at all than being offended by the statement. Not ‘how could you think that?!’ but more… Like ‘that’s so sad that you’ve been made to believe that?’ If that makes sense? That somehow, Kou caught on that Banba has this view bc he was hurt terribly in the past? And then there’s this face here. Boy looks like a sad puppy. It’s totally my skewed interpretation bc I had that thought before, but to me it looks like he’s looking at Banba like… Empathetically? Like he pities him? So now I’m falling even deeper into the idea that Kou doesn’t find Banba’s distrust of others insulting of offensive in anyway, but is just sad for the fact that someone could come to think that way. Realises that Banba is like this bc he got hurt and is scared, and is just heartbroken by that? That someone could get hurt so badly that they lose faith in nearly all goodness in the world? I might like it if there’s a moment where Kou proves he’s more thoughtful than he seems (like, he can be thoughtful, he has his moments—though he is still an impulsive, goofy doofus) by, like, outright asking Banba what happened to him. That’d def throw Banba for a loop, I think. This is, of course, just my overthinking and incoherent rambling. But I do like the idea. ^^ Last note: my god Tatsuya has pretty eyelashes! DX

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drawacharge · 6 years

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emperor’s new clothes

ok so hi. this has been sitting in my drafts for a .... while. and i’m gonna’ post it bc it’s long lmao. i also had an idea for a valentine’s day esque nsfw sequel to this but idk?? btw, just a warning-- this is in steve’s pov and billy’s pov is my comfort zone so if it sucks Sorry

There’s something about almost dying too many times that makes the rest of the world around you seem minuscule. It makes school even more boring than before, it makes sleeping a distant memory, and pure, genuine laughter harder to come by. There are too many days Steve spends in class, the teacher droning on and on about Darwin and Natural Extinction Theory and all he wants to do is stand up and go, “Do you have any idea what’s out there? We’re in here, studying bullshit, and out there, right now, are things that wanna’ kill us, that know how, that will—“ but he doesn’t, because he signed too many legal wavers to count, because if he does they’d just throw him into a mental facility. So he sits and stays quiet instead, swallowing back all his anxiety and fear of the unknown and known, sleep-deprived eyes staring out the nearest window as if he expects something nasty with claws to walk on by.

Nothing ever does. Jane closed the gate.

Somehow, that’s worse.

Everyone else seems happy with the peace. The kids smile and laugh and ask Steve to take them to the arcade constantly. Nancy has never seemed happier, walking hand in hand with Jonathan. Jane has more freedom that she’s ever had, visiting her friends, learning about the world. Joyce and Hopper get closer every day, enjoying each other’s company, maybe even finding solace in it. Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe the kids use each other to deal with their shit. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan use each other too. They’ve all been through hell, the only difference was after it was all said and done Steve was the only one left completely alone.

He feels dead. He thinks, maybe, he’s felt wrong since the first time he took that bat to the Demogorgon, but this is different. Worse. He doesn’t feel like anything. He doesn’t feel angry, or sad, or even really scared, not anymore. There’s nothing there. And maybe that’s the only thing nowadays that actually scares him: the fact that nothing does.

It’s mid-January when he finally decides to do something about it. When the emptiness gets so bad he almost skips an entire week of school. When Mrs. Leery, his English teacher, calls him over after class and says, “Steve, your grade has been going steadily downhill. Is anything the matter?” with an expression so soft and concerned, that all Steve can manage is a tight smile and a, “Just tired,” before giving some half-assed promise that he’d try harder.

He does try too. He’s been trying since the beginning of fucking November. But he falls asleep when he should be reading Of Mice and Men, and it’s not even that boring of a book. He knows something has to change, that something in him is broken and he needs to fix it before he’s nothing but some vague shadow of what he used to be.

Steve realizes just how he’s going to do that when he’s getting the mail one day. Billy Hargrove speeds by in his Camaro, probably going twenty over the speed limit, Tommy, Carol, and two other girls hanging out of the Camaro whooping, hollering, and laughing as the wind whips through them. Steve thinks he’s never seen a group of people seem so alive. He remembers when that used to be him driving, him hanging out the window, him laughing. It was a shallow happiness, perhaps, but it was happiness.

And he decides he wants that back

He knows where to start, and it’s not hard. Steve’s known Tommy since before puberty, and he knows that even if Tommy feels sorry for something he’ll never apologize first. Every fight they’ve ever had has led to Steve outside his door, an apology on his lips. Only then does Tommy apologize too and only then do they move the fuck on. Steve hopes that, even after a year of not speaking, that fact hasn’t changed.

He brings beer with him, just in case.

Tommy opens the door on the third knock and scowls when he sees Steve. Then he sees the beer and the scowl shifts, eyebrows raising in interest. “Want something?”

“To apologize,” he holds out the beer immediately, offers a halfhearted smile. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat that day. You were—“ in his own way “—you were trying to have my back.” And he really was, Steve knew that. Maybe not in the best way, maybe not in the nicest way, but he was.

There’s a long pause where Tommy just eyes him, like he’s considering, and then he reaches out for the beer and steps aside, wordlessly inviting Steve in. “Yeah, well… I coulda’ handled it better,” he’s grumbling, words half muttered. If Steve wasn’t an expert in Tommy Language he’d have to ask him to repeat himself. “I woulda’ been pissed if you’d said all that shit about Carol too, just—“ he takes a breath, starts walking towards the steps to the basement where they’d always hang out. “—I knew she wasn’t fucking good enough for you man. I knew she’d hurt you.”

And.

That’s fair too, honestly. Tommy had known what kind of person Steve could be. How sensitive. How trusting. People assume their friendship had been shallow, but it really hadn’t been. Not always. Steve still remembered the way Tommy cried on his shoulder when they were kids and his dog was hit by a car. There was meaning there. Trust.

They’re down stairs and Steve is cracking open two cans, holding one out when he goes, “Guess I should’ve listened to you,” before downing about half of it in one go. Tommy follows suit and wipes his mouth before glancing over his shoulder and then back at Steve, a grin pulling at his lips.

“How about I kick your ass at air hockey again? That always cheers you up.”

“Pretty sure that cheers you up,” Steve says, and Tommy laughs. “But sure, why not.”

Steve loses, five to two, but he feels like he’s won anyway.

Billy Hargrove quickly becomes his main problem. Of course, Steve knew he would be before he even found himself on Tommy’s doorstep. Billy did not like him, and the feeling was mutual. They had barely talked since the incident at the Byers’ and Steve was happy with that. He could handle the sneers and even the shoving during basketball. Billy had laid off the kids for the most part and that’s all that mattered to him.

Luckily, Tommy has more sway with Billy than Steve originally thought. He assumed their friendship was more symbiotic than anything. Billy claimed the crown that had been abandoned, and Tommy found it easier to follow than not. It was a familiar position for him, after all. But it seemed like a little more than that. When Tommy invites him over to eat with them that Monday, Steve’s actually surprised that Billy allows it. That he frowns, but otherwise ignores Steve, keeping his attention on the rest of the team. He doesn’t look at Steve again for the rest of lunch.

It’s not good enough.

For it to really be right, or this to work, Billy has to like him. Steve isn’t sure how to accomplish that, hell, he isn’t even sure if he wants to, but it’s necessary.

He starts with buying them all alcohol. He pays for the booze, the weed, offers up his giant, empty house and heated pool. It’s how he woo’d Carol, even Tommy when they were kids ( minus the alcohol and weed ), and most of anyone else at school. He thinks it’ll work on Billy too.

It doesn’t.

Billy drinks his booze, and he smokes his weed, and he swims in his pool. But when it’s all said and done he still sneers at Steve, still ignores him at lunch, still checks him too hard at practice and mocks him in the middle of random conversations.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Steve grumbles one night, laid out on the couch in Tommy’s basement. His head is in Carol’s lap and she’s playing with his hair. It’s nice. Not something he’s had since Nancy. He missed it.

Also, they’re all really fucking high. He missed that too. Getting high with his friends.

“I’ve tried to be friendly, even after the bullshit he pulled--”

Everyone knows that they fought. Or at least, they figured they did since Steve showed up to school that Monday looking like he got hit by a truck, and Billy showed up with a black eye and busted knuckles. It didn’t take long for the student body to put two and two together and guess who won.

“I don’t think he’s impressed by money,” Tommy says from the floor. He’s leaning back against the couch, head on the cushion, and a joint between his lips. “I mean, he’s poor as shit,” he continues bluntly, “like Byers level poor.” Steve shoots him a look and Tommy holds a hand up in mild surrender. He doesn’t see why Steve is protective of them, especially after Jonathan and Nancy, but he’s gotten better about how he talks about them anyway.

“Wouldn’t that make him like... want to be around it?” Carol questions. It’s a natural conclusion for three well-off teens to come to, but Steve’s learned enough over his last year of bettering himself to know that’s not always true. He thinks maybe Tommy has a point.

“You should like. Be real with him.” He leans his head further back until the back of it is leaning against Steve’s knee. “I don’t think he likes bullshit.”

Steve thinks about that night at the Byers’ and how Billy seemed furious that Steve lied about Max being there. He thinks about Nancy going you’re bullshit and wonders if maybe she wasn’t that far off. After all, he spent an entire year pretending everything was okay, and before that he pretended like having absentee parents didn’t bother him. Hell, he still did that sometimes.

“No bullshit,” Steve sighs, and reaches for the joint when Tommy offers it out. “I can do that.”

Tommy throws a party that next weekend. It’s his and Carol’s anniversary so they celebrate it in the way they know best: by making everyone else celebrate for them. They get booze and pot and set the house up so that all of Tommy’s mom’s breakables are hidden away. Billy arrives thirty minutes before the party dressed to the nines and with a keg. Steve wonders how he can stand wearing an open shirt in fucking January but doesn’t bother asking.

Six hours later the party is headed into the A.M. and Steve’s completely fucking wasted when he beats Billy as beer pong and grins like he won Olympic gold. Billy looks just about ready to kill him, and Steve can tell he’s significantly less drunk than him and wonders why since Billy always seems to get shit-faced at these kinds of things.

Billy leaves to grab a smoke outside, and Steve-- in all his drunken genius-- decides this is the best time to approach him.

It’s not.

There’s something dangerous in Billy’s eyes when he sizes him up, something that reminds Steve of that night, something wild. He asks what the fuck Billy’s problem with him is anyway, and Billy grins in the kind of way that reminds Steve of a shark. He gets real close, encroaching on Steve’s personal space, and he can’t help but think about Darwin and the Natural Extinction Theory. How man is just stupid enough to kill itself. How, right now, Steve is the perfect fucking example of that.

“My problem with you,” Billy breathes, right in his face, smelling like beer and cigarettes, “is that you’re a little spoiled rich boy who’s used to getting everything he wants.” Steve opens his mouth to argue, to say that if he really got everything he wanted he’d still have Nancy and not nightmares. That he’d have parents who loved him and a father who didn’t think he was a failure. But, Billy continues. “And now, what? You’ve decided you wanna’ be king again, yeah? That it? Make Hill think you give a shit about him--”

“I do.”

“Bullshit,” Billy snarls, flecks of spit hitting Steve in the face, almost making him flinch. “Your girl dumped you for a freak and now you’re desperate for friends and fans again. So, here you are, making nice, buying them whatever they want just so they’ll like you--”

“Fuck you,” he hisses back, “I’m not. I missed Tommy and Carol--” and he had, in the same weird way they had probably missed him. “--you’re just their baggage I have to deal with.” It’s fucked up. He knows it’s fucked up as soon as he says it, nasty and not what Steve meant to do when he came out here. And it gets him punched in the face.

No surprise there.

He probably deserves it.

Steve reels back, his jaw fucking aching, and Billy prowls in close, grinning wide like a great white, like he had that night. He must not expect Steve to hit back, because the punch actually lands and Billy looks fucking surprised when he rights himself.

“Is that you’re fucking problem?” Steve demands, filling the space Billy had stumbled back out of. “You think I wanna’ be king again? That I’m gonna’ push you out--”

Billy laughs, “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.” But Steve thinks he’s wrong, and he thinks Billy knows he’s wrong. They were both charismatic, both handsome, but Steve was nicer. He was friendlier, more easy going, and at the end of the day that’s someone everyone would rather follow than someone like Billy. Some angry, aggressive, and volatile. Someone they fear. They both know it, and it’s clear on Billy’s face even when he says the opposite.

“Newsflash, I don’t care about being king.” And he doesn’t, he actually really doesn’t. He just-- “I just don’t wanna’ be alone, anymore.” And it’s probably the pussiest thing he could have said. I don’t wanna’ be alone, like some kind of fucking girl. He expects Billy to laugh at him, to make fun of him, maybe punch him again, maybe shove him back and go inside to tell everyone what a little bitch Steve Harrington is.

He does laugh. But it’s after a moment of surprise, and the sound is more dry than it is mean. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Harrington.” Billy sighs, and looks up at the night sky like there’s something up there beside stars before looking back down. “And I’m watching you.”

And with that, the most ominous thing Steve’s ever fucking heard, Billy saunters back inside.

Only after the door has shut behind him and Steve tastes copper does he realize his nose is bleeding.

That Monday they’re all sitting at the lunch table when Billy asks Tommy if he’s seen the new Rambo yet. He hasn’t, and while Carol wrinkles her nose at all the violence, she admits that Sylvester Stallone is pretty hot, so she’ll tag along if they go to see it. Steve doesn’t comment, figuring if Billy’s inviting people then he’s not going. He’s thinking about taking the kids when Billy looks at him and goes, “You gonna’ come?” And Steve’s so fucking surprised it takes him a second to find himself and go, “Yeah, sure.”

That Thursday Billy eats his lunch like a man starving. Without thinking, Steve offers up his meatloaf and Billy stares at him like he’s crazy but takes it anyway. In response, Billy offers up his applesauce and he accepts it, feeling not like he’s won, but that he might be close.

“I think he doesn’t eat at home sometimes,” Tommy says while Steve’s BMW is idling in the McDonald’s drive-thru. They’d been talking about Billy’s massive appetite, and how it even puts theirs to shame. “He eats my entire pantry every time he comes over.”

Steve frowns and thinks about it before he’s leaning back out the window and ordering two more burgers, fries, and nuggets. Tommy doesn’t comment on it, but he shoots Steve a look when they get back and Billy goes, “What’s with the extra food?” and Steve shrugs and replies, “Must of got the order wrong.”

A week later he’s driving Dustin home from school and figures something is wrong because the kid isn’t jabbering like normal. He almost looks like he’s pouting, eyes out the window. Finally, Steve can stand it anymore, “What’s up, man?” He never thought he’d be bothered by Dustin being quiet, but he is.

With his arms crossed over his chest, Dustin purses his lips like he doesn’t want to say, but when Steve prods him he finally blurts, “Are you going to turn back into a douchebag?” And Steve’s, well, Steve’s caught a bit off guard because he definitely hadn’t expected that, figuring maybe it had to do with Max.

“You used to think I was a douchebag?”

Leveling him with a look that says seriously? Dustin goes, “Uh, I didn’t think you were one, you were . Before Nancy you were all look at me I’m so cool, and you hung out with Tommy Hill, and now you are again and with Billy Hargrove of all people, and--”

“Whoa man,” Steve breathes with a little laugh, “Cool your jets, okay? I’m not--”

“He kicked your ass!”

“I know.”

“And threatened Lucas!”

“I know!”

“Then what are you doing?” Dustin demands, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Did he knock something loose when he punched you? ‘Cause, like, he’s not a cool dude, and you-- if you hang out with him you might--”

“Dustin,” he sighs, pulling up to the others’ house. Steve puts the BMW in park but doesn’t unlock the doors just yet. “I’m not... look, you’re right. I was probably a total douchebag.” Especially to a kid. “But I’m not going to just... change back, okay? I just... need people that aren’t kids or my ex to hang out with.”

“But we’re cool kids.”

He laughs a little, and it’s more fond than mean. “You are,” and okay, Dustin and the rest of the party are total dorks, but they’re cool dorks, and while Steve would never tell anyone that except Dustin, it’s still true. “But it’s not the same.”

And he thinks Dustin must agree on some level, because instead of immediately arguing he just pouts, taking a breath and blowing out his cheeks while he thinks. Then he finally he goes, “Fine,” before adding, “But if you start turning into a douchebag again I’m like totally gonna’ hit you or six El on you. Or something.”

Again, Steve laughs, “Man, if I start acting like that again I encourage you to hit me and/or six El on me, okay?” Dustin nods, seemingly okay with that deal, but just in case--

“Hey-- how about I take you and the other brats to the mall on Saturday?”

Dustin immediately brightens at that, “The one outta’ town?”

“Yup. You guys just have to ask your parents if it’s okay.”

“Totally! I’ll let the guys know! Hopefully Hopper will let El go too. Thanks Steve,” and then he’s hopping out the car and heading for his house with a quick wave as a good-bye. Steve waits until he’s safely in before driving on home.

The very next day Dustin tells him that Max’s mom said she can’t go unless Billy comes to look after her. “It’s stupid,” he huffs, “She’s safer with you than she’d ever be with Billy,” and even though Steve doesn’t disagree with that point he’s heard enough about Max’s parents to know there’s no arguing with them.

“Okay. Billy will come then.” And Dustin looks so fucking betrayed that he can’t help but laugh. “What? You want Max to come, don’t you?”

A pause then, “Fine. But you gotta’ like. Keep his ass in line, got it?��

“Yeah, yeah, shithead, I got it.”

Convincing Billy to go with him and six kids out of town won’t be easy, though.

He figures the next party coming up will be the best time. It’s right before Saturday, and Steve hadn’t planned on going for the sake of his pride, but a drunk Billy is a Billy more likely to accept Steve’s proposal. He was always nicer drunk. Okay, no he wasn’t, but... he may be more agreeable. If he’s drunk enough.

And friendly enough.

“A Valentine’s Day party?” Billy asks, nose wrinkling at the flier Steve had just stuck in his hands.

“Singles party,” Steve corrects, and Billy somehow looks more disgusted.

“Those are a thing?”

“Well,” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Steve shrugs. “Last one Lisa threw was like? When we were fifteen? Then she got into a relationship with Jimmy P, but they broke up in December, so--”

“So she’s throwing a singles party.Yeah, no thanks.” Billy pushes the flier towards Steve’s chest. “Sounds pathetic. I’d rather get wasted at the quarry.”

“That’s pathetic too.” He points out, “And at Lisa’s the booze and food will be free. Plus it’s mostly an excuse to get wasted, make out with people, then never talk about it come Monday morning.” That wasn’t a lie. Steve had probably kissed a countless number of girls the last time the party was thrown. Hell, he was pretty sure he kissed Tommy too, but that was three years ago and Steve decided he was too drunk to remember it.

Billy barks a laugh and Steve thinks maybe he’s convinced him, “God, that’s fucking ridiculous. Why do you want me to go so bad?”

“Because, I want to go.” Okay, he actually doesn’t. It is pathetic. “But Tommy and Carol can’t go, and you’re single so--” he shrugs again, reaches out to nudge the paper against Billy’s hands. His knuckles are cut up again. It’s the second time that month and Steve wonders who’s the unlucky soul that's been on the other end. “Okay. What do I get if I do?”

“Pot?”

“I got pot, and Cali pot is better than Indiana pot.” Fair.

In all honesty, Steve had no idea what to give him. He can’t think of anything so he settles for, “I’ll owe you one,” and a smile that promises just about anything Billy could want. It’s a good deal, so good that Steve’s almost nervous about making it. What kind of favor would Hargrove ask of him one day?

Billy, of course, brightens at the suggestion. “You’ll owe me one,” he repeats. “Alright, pretty boy, you got yourself a deal.”

#harringrove #my drabbles #??? i cant think of any horrible triggers #mental illness cw #but that's in all my stuff at this point #anyway idk if anyone would even want a sequel to this but #here

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stluciasstudentjail · 6 years

Note

For Renee: 15, 16, 25, 38, 21, A, G, E. For Alister: 1, 13, 22, 18, 21, 16, 31, E, . For Cas: 3, 15, 18, 21, 22, 31, 38, 43, 7, E. For Cameron: 1, 3, 7, 8, 10, 13, 17, 18, 21, 30, 32, A, E, B. For Rory: 2, 11, 14, 16, 25, 35, 40, A, B, E, G

ok u asked for it. I literally had to wait and do this on the computer bc like… I aint about to do all these on my phone

Renee:

15: It depends, sometimes she says stupid shit on the spot (especially when she’s mad) but she stops and tries to articulate her words when she’s trying to comfort or encourage someone

16: LUCAS. But really, seeing Avery never stops making her feel sick in fear AND disgust. (not just bc he ugly)

25: Something she never liked to think about for herself because it’s completely impossible for her to live a normal life and not endanger her spouse. BUT when it comes to other people getting married she’s a romantic and loves seeing happy couples. (that’s why she likes a good romance movie)

38: pfft she relives her mistakes constantly, but most likely the first person she killed. It’s the most often recurring thought, anyway.

21: She just wants to be able to live a normal life, honestly. She tries to be optimistic about it. Oh, and she wants to murder Avery so he can never hurt her or anyone else ever again :)

A) I like that she’s actually trying to improve herself and it’s nice to see her actually TRY to learn to her mistakes and be a better person even tho it aint work.

G) She’s so damn petty and destructive in her relationships, it takes a lot of effort for her to step back and unlearn the behaviors she was taught growing up.

E) Yeah if the bitch wouldn’t go off on me

Alister:

1. Maybe a half hour? He’s not good at relaxing lmao I wonder why.

13: He throws on mostly dark or neutral colors, which looks good BUT he actually looks best in red imo. He probably wouldn’t choose to wear it himself but wouldn’t be opposed to it either.

22: It’s actually pretty easy to make him jealous, but he’d probably just distance himself and act like he could NOT care less. big surprise and not super obvious at all. He’d just never admit to it.

18: The vague implication that he cares about his friends, family, romantic interest.. etc.

21: pretty well only because he has people he cares about he wants to look out for. Oh, and he’s stubborn af and not to mention already too used to carrying on.

16: Lucas, Avery, both of his parents… etc.

31: That’s hard bc they all dumb af. but uhhh he appreciates Renee a lot for all her optimisim despite everything they went through. They made things a little easier for eachother outside of the whole dumb mutual crush they had going on. They’re genuinely good friends tho.

E: I’d just think he was a prick probably and even if I knew he was actually a decent person I don’t VIBE with that type of pal irl.

Cas:

3: readingggggg. He finds it fun and distracting.

15: absolutely rehersed to sound as dumb as possible lmao. He goes over a lot of his dumb speeches in his head.

18: not being able to control himself tbch. Obviously he’s embarrassed a lot.

21: He wants to try and get back to his normal self. haha can u imagine. But tbh he wants to figure out who he used to be.

22: it manifests in passive aggressive comments about the person he’s jealous of. He’d probably come out and say something if it were really bothering him, but he’d try not to overreact.

31: his PALS. Renee reached out to him first, so probably her. She’s popular w/ the squad apparently. (also I’m answering every 31 question outside of the rp otherwise they’d b different lol)

38: His memories are mostly ingrained with Kate. He mostly comes back to a moment where he was isolated and calling out for her. He finds it VERY shameful.

43: He’d say he thinks girls are pretty. But sometimes, he also thinks BOYS are pretty. And then someone would say “bud ur bi” and he’d be like “haha ya!” with a vapid smile on his face.

7. Being at his HOUSE, of course. It makes him kinda sad and empty though. It’s more of a bittersweet feeling.

E: Maybe in small doses. He could get annoying.

Cameron:

1. 0 seconds. He’d have to go entertain himself or bother someone.

3. Daydreaming, for sure.

7. fuckin uhhhhh sometimes just being around his brother can give him some actual good nostalgic feelings, but it’s a mixed bag because their childhood was… u kno, bad.

8. By his mom? stop talking so much/so fast. By his brother? stop talking to random strangers u swamp creature.

10: He mostly lied to his mom about where he was going, what he was doing, and just to avoid getting in trouble. He doesn’t really feel bad about it.

13: He thinks he looks best in blue. It suits him pretty well, actually.

17: He has very little shame, so no.

18: He’s a little embarrassed when he’s complimented by a friend or praised by an adult, but he just covers it up with bravado so u can’t even tell.

21: Since he’s a very social person he really just wants to get up and hang w/ his PALS. and have a good time.

30: Steeeeeeeveeeee

32: He’ll just say something off the wall or sarcastic.

A) Honestly? He’s just fun bc he has absolutely zero self control.

E) Yeah he’d be fun to hang out with, just maybe not constantly because he’s kinda Much.

B) he was literally just supposed to add some more background for Alister, but now I have to deal with him 4ever. :(

Rory:

2. She’ll laugh openly if someone trips or does something embarrassing. Usually she’ll just crack a smile at a joke, unless it’s HYSTERICAL

11. Depends on the circumstances, but most often she’ll just nod and try to seem mature while having no idea what the fuck is going on.

14. She loves animals. Just not snakes.

16. Being grabbed or touched without warning makes her feel sick. It really depends on how she’s feeling that day, though.

25: Something she’d love but can’t see herself being able to manage.

35: She tries her hardest to be like “ok… neat.” even if she thinks it’s dumb. Sometimes she’ll make insensitive comments or be really obvious about her lack of interest but she TRIES.

40: She knows her own flaws very well, she just doesn’t go out and admit it openly. Her self esteem is crap but sometimes she gets caught in the moment and doesn’t realize she’s being shitty until after the fact.

A) the way she’s slooowly working to the point where she’ll be able to kick Lucas off a bridgeB) my thought process: im need… more girl. E) nooooo and no. actually MAYBE sometimes. G) Her being kind of a fukin jerk most of the time is like lord don’t u get tired go take a nap

#ocs #bakugosucks #oc tag

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nicoladarchive · 6 years

Text

ONE MORE WEEKEND || Spencola

TAGGING: @superspence @nicoladerocha

DATE: Friday. April 20th.

PLACE: Wilmington, NC. The Porter’s.

NOTES: Spencer sweeps Nicola away for a weekend in their hometown. They try to enjoy a meal with both their families, but The de Rocha’s strained relationship causes the night to end early. (Vaguely NSFW bc it’s Spencola and they’re giant teases).

SPENCER PORTER

For the entirety of the day, Spencer was stuck between looks of adoration towards her parents and her best friend, Nicola. Spencer had been back to Wilmington since moving there months ago, but whenever she had visited, Wilmington was still the place where she dodged from possibly running into Nicola. Now? She had it all. It felt like everything was the way it should be - no accident with her father, no incident of Spencer’s abandoning her best friend. While she knew it wasn’t true, the trip down memory lane was enough to have her feeling deja vu back to high school. “Nic,” Spencer said with a smirk as she immediately threw an M&M in her direction, already hearing her father’s laugh from the kitchen. Girls, get ready. Nicola, your parents are coming by for dinner in 30 minutes. Spencer’s eyes floated from her mother to the girl seated next to her on the couch, immediately removing her legs from across Nicola’s. She knew the reasons behind Nicola staying with her during this visit and that was to see the least amount of her parents as possible. “Come on,” she whispered, holding her hand out for Nicola to take. If they were about to endure an awkward dinner, Spencer could at least try and lighten the mood.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Being back in Wilmington was nice. It kind of surprised Nicola just how nice it was. She was expecting reminders of the reason she left around every corner, but being in the Porter home, full of laughter and love, it was just what she needed. “Spencer!” She scolded playfully as the M&M was tossed in her direction, but the smile on her face gave her away. It felt like they were truly back in high school again. Nicola’s eyes widened momentarily at the mention of her parents, but offered a polite smile to Mrs. Porter, “Thank you Mama P,” she replied trying to hide her own discomfort. She knew she couldn’t avoid them forever, and that even if this was just a weekend stay, it wouldn’t be wise to evade them all weekend. Her parents were still paying her rent afterall all. Then Spencer’s hand was reaching for hers, and she wasted no time taking it, seeking that familiar comfort. She lead them up to Spencer’s room where the two would get ready for what would absolutely be an awkward family reunion. Once inside the comfort of Spencer’s room again she closed the door behind them, leaning against it, “I know I couldn’t avoid this forever… I just hope they don’t ruin dinner for everybody,” she sighed, hoping her parents would be able to play nice for long enough to just get through dinner.

SPENCER PORTER

Once they were situated inside of Spencer’s childhood room, she was immediately turning on her heel and preparing for words that she was sure Nicola would have. She offered a sad smile with a nod of her head before stepping closer to her. “It’s just dinner. If they ruin it, then we can just go buy alcohol and forget about it in no time,” Spencer joked, finding it odd that they wouldn’t even have to break into her parents liquor cabinet. “Just... try and take a deep breath. It’ll be fine. I’m sure my parents know better than to think things will do totally smooth,” she offered, knowing it wasn’t much to help. Like clock work, Spencer closed the space between them, her hands resting against Nicola’s hips as she shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll have me right there the whole time.” It was easier being in Wilmington with Nicola. There wasn’t a stigma of having to hide the actions she always thought about doing and no lingering eyes of an entire patronage of a coffee shop looking at them.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola chuckled when Spencer mentioned the alcohol, “Are you sure you want a repeat of last night so soon?” She teased, but was honestly thankful for Spencer looking out for her. She nodded along because she knew Spencer was right. Even if the girls weren’t in Wilmington, their parents were, and honestly the Porters had more insight into her parents marriage than she did. If they believed dinner wouldn’t be grounds for a war zone, she trusted them. As Spencer’s hands found her hips she linked her arms loosely around her shoulders, the contact already enough to quell her rising nerves. “I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you,” she admitted placing a kiss her Spencer’s cheek. “So... what are you going to wear?” She asked thankful to turn her attention to their clothes for the evening.

SPENCER PORTER

As the touch deepened between them, Spencer found herself sighing with relief. There was so much nostalgia surrounding them that the simple touches were enough to bring the high school butterflies fluttering back to her stomach. “I didn’t want to do this without you,” she commented with a shrug of her shoulders. Wilmington harbored the best and the worst of feelings, events, and memories for her. However, as the attention flipped, Spencer was quick to remove herself from the position of touch and fly to her suitcase with a smile. “I wondered if we would be schmoozed into some fancy, high society dinner, so I brought a dress.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders as she brought the sleek black dress from the confines of her suitcase. While it was simple, black was always her go to for a fancier look. “What about you?” She pondered aloud, her eyes racing over to Nicola with a smile. God, it was good being back in Wilmington.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola eyed the dress and then Spencer already imaging how it would hug her body. Luckily the question was turned around on her, so she was able to focus on her own dinner wear rather than Spencer’s. Even though it was just an extended weekend, Nicola prepared for any Wilmington occasion. She pulled a simple burgundy dinner dress from her bag, she was going to save it for lunch with her mom, but figured it was worthy of an appearance this evening. “That’s going to look stunning on you by the way,” she offered nodding to the little black number Spencer was holding, as she presented her own dress.

SPENCER PORTER

Spencer held her dress loosely in her hands as she smiled at Nicola with the burgundy dress in hand. Her smile nearly faltered a she shook her head in mild disbelief. “That’s not even fair,” she started before she was tossing her dress haphazardly onto the bed to her side and immediately bringing herself closer to Nicola. “You know that’s one of my favorite colors on you. It always makes your eyes look s-“ Spencer cut her words short as she wet her lips with a shy grin. There were so many wordy compliments she could pass along to the girl standing across from her. “We still have... a little bit of time. Need a de... stressor?” Spencer asked with a certain sparkle in her eye as she linked her fingers into the bottoms of her shirt, immediately pulling it over her head. Was she getting dressed for their dinner or starting another long winded charade of their flirty atmosphere? She wasn’t even sure.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola smirked to herself as Spencer complimented the dress. Of course the thought of Spencer enjoying the color on her was in the back of her mind, and she suddenly felt good about her decision to wear the dress to dinner. Nicola didn’t even try to avert her gaze as Spencer pulled her shirt over her head. Without any shame she ran her hands down Spencer’s exposed abdomen, appreciating all of her long hours put in at the gym. “Depends on what you have in mind. Do you mean like a back massage... or like when you’d pin me against your bedroom door to make sure your parents couldn’t come in?” She dropped into conversation as if she were casually talking about the weather, before removing her own shirt. “Because I think we only have time for the back massage,” she teased.

SPENCER PORTER

It was like a thousand memories were cascading quickly into Spencer’s mind as she felt familiar hands roaming her abdomen. The feeling alone was enough to make her shell up and close her eyes as she sank into the feeling of home really occurring now. Her eyes opened slowly as Nicola’s recalled their favorite past time of mauling one another with her parents just down the hall and she felt her throat closing in from how badly she wanted that to happen again. Things were so much easier in Wilmington. “I was thinking more about the...” Spencer started, her tone confident before Nicola was removing her own shirt and Spencer was sighing in relief at the image before her. God, she was so fucking beautiful. It was easy for her to give into the feelings that she knew she shoved down in New York. But now? Everything was fair game. “We’ll make the best of our time,” she said with a smirk before she was stepping closer and bringing their bodies closer together, reveling in the skin to skin contact that was occurring as she backed Nicola’s body into her bedroom door, a loud bang echoing through the halls. Like clockwork, Spencer paused as she waited for it. Girls! Is everything okay? Spencer smirked, proud of herself for remembering all of the cues she still remembered from her parents. “Yeah mom! I just tripped while I was getting dressed, sorry!” Spencer called out before she was immediately leaning in and connecting her lips with Nicola’s. She knew things wouldn’t progress further than kissing (possibly? She hardly had self control) but in the moment, Spencer felt faint not being able to feel her best friend in such familiar ways.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Before Nicola could even process Spencer’s words, her back was hitting the door with a thud. A whine escaped her lips and she wasn’t sure if it was from the contact of their skin or the familiar sensation of Spencer taking control. Then she heard Mrs. Porter calling up to them, and it was like living in a memory. The countless times they’d heard that, and all the thinly veiled excuses they’d offer in response. Nicola smiled into the kiss letting her hands wander down Spencer’s back, her fingers dancing across smooth skin. When the need for air became a necessity, Nicola attached her lips to the blonde’s neck, fighting the urge to leave a mark just for any girls back in New York. Instead she trailed her lips to Spencer’s ear, pulling the other’s girl’s body close, “Spencer Porter, always so clumsy. What are we going to do with you?”

SPENCER PORTER

Spencer Porter loved Wilmington. Or so she would say time and time again after this blast from the past visit for her. With her body pressed firmly against Nicola’s as they were shoved against her bedroom door, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly content with life. However, her stomach dropped to a lower place, feeling enough heat to make her near an uncomfortable level at Nicola’s lips on her neck and against her ear. She chuckled lowly before she was grabbing both of Nicola’s hands and pinning them to the door behind her body. “It’s not so much what we should do to me but what I want to do to you,” she whispered with a smirk, her lips ghosting against Nicola’s as she spoke. She moved her lips to her neck, expertly exploring the skin she hadn’t in days. It was only a matter of time before self control was failing her and she was moving her lips to the spot that she knew drew Nicola absolutely mad. “I love having you like this.” Spencer wasn’t sure what her words meant - did she simply mean having her in a place of desperation or just simply having her? Regardless, she pushed it from her mind as she laced fingers with Nicola’s, still not allowing her proper movement of her hands.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola eyed the alarm clock on Spencer’s bedside table. Time was ticking down for them, and frustration grew. With her hands pinned behind her body and Spencer's lips on her neck all she wanted was for the blonde to take her to bed. Dark eyes fell shut as her neck craned to the side almost guiding Spencer to the spot she knew so well. Nicola chewed her bottom as she felt those perfect lips approach, and couldn’t help but gasp as Spencer finally found it. Her hands jerked against Spencer’s on their own accord, desperate to touch her again, but instead she was hyper aware of their torsos pressed together. Spencer’s words went straight to her gut and she wanted nothing more than for Spencer to have her way with her, but there was simply no time for them to indulge in each other completely. Nicola’s eyes finally opened, somehow darker than before, “I think it’s only polite you help me finish getting undressed. My hands are a little busy.”

SPENCER PORTER

As she focused on the sound of gasps and sighs exhaled from Nicola’s body, it only urged her to continue her lips movements. If she could, she would make it to where they blew off their little family get together and gathering and just spend the evening exploring each other’s bodies again. However, she knew that wasn’t something that could happen and they were working with borrowed time. As Nicola spoke, Spencer’s lips peppered kisses against her collarbones, smirking against the skin as she pulled back. “Too bad we only have ten minutes,” she whispered as she slowly started moving her body to a kneel, her lips ghosting down Nicola’s chest and abdomen as she lowered. She wasn’t used to taking such a role of listening to her partners demands and suggestions, but Nicola was different. Her hands moved to wrap fingers around the waistband of Nicola’s pants, slowly sliding them down as her eyes focused closely on Nicola’s face. She relished in excitement at the effect she still had on the brunette. As her pants were lowered, Spencer leaned closer, making sure that nothing more than her breath was lingering against the tanned skin of her best friend as her garment pooled at her feet. Once her actions were done, Spencer placed soft kisses against Nicola’s thighs, right above her underwear line, and up her abdomen before she was standing once more. “I think that was polite enough.”

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola couldn’t even form words as Spencer kissed against gently her collar bones, she just nodded when Spencer mentioned how much time they had. Only ten minutes, but Nicola intended to make good use of those ten minutes. Her breath caught in her throat as Spencer lowered to her knees, that was… a first. Nicola kept her dark eyes locked with Spencer’s light ones, as her lounge pants were slowly pulled down her legs. She stepped out of them kicking them to the side, and delighted in the feeling of Spencer’s lips against her thighs. Her hips twitched as soft lips grazed above her panty line, and before she knew it Spencer was standing, towering just a few inches above her. Unable to control herself she threw her arms around Spencer’s neck, colliding their lips together in a heated kiss. When she pulled away she stood on her tip toes to whisper in Spencer’s ear despite them being the only two in the room, “You look really pretty on your knees,” she smirked, her hands trailing down Spencer’s sides. When she reached the waistband of Spencer’s pants her hands dipped below pushing the garment down as her hands grazed the curves of her backside. “There now we’re even,” she smirked as the pants dropped to floor. Nicola sighed to herself upon realizing they couldn’t continue unwrapping each other, but instead had to continue getting ready for dinner.

SPENCER PORTER

Since their reunion, Spencer knew there had been moments of tension and frustration building between the two of them. But this was just taking things to a whole new dimension. Spencer whispered behind the kiss, her hands instantly finding their rightful spot on Nicola’s hips as she brought their bodies impossibly closer to one another. Once Nicola was breaking for a breath, Spencer was even more floored by her words. That was absolutely being added to her spank bank for later... appreciation. Her light eyes trailed down, watching ample fingers sliding the fabric down her legs and she was sure she could just die right there and be happy. “E-even,” she stuttered out before her eyes slipped shut with slight embarrassment riddling her body. “We should...” She started, opening her eyes as they slipped down her body and she swallowed hard. “Get um, ready.” Even though it was going against her own words, she immediately leaned forward, kissing her once more as her hand slipped in between Nicola’s legs. Spencer couldn’t even stop the smirk from breaking their kiss as she pulled back and stumbled back towards her bed to grab her dress for the night.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola knew this wasn’t a game but when she heard Spencer stutter she felt like she was winning. From Spencer on her knees to stumbling on her words, she wondered if she was the only one who got to see her like this. Selfishly she hoped that she was. Then Spencer was suggesting they continue get ready, and she knew that she was right, but honestly she wasn’t ready to face both their parents with this burning in her stomach. “Mhm, I think you’re right,” she replied, leaning in to happily return the kiss. Then Spencer’s hand made contact between her legs, and all she could do was gasp before it was gone. Nicola followed as Spencer walked back towards the bed, “That wasn’t fair and you know it,” she tried to keep her tone confident but really it sounded like she was whining. Apparently she couldn’t even control her own voice around her old friend. Nicola picked up her own dress from the bed, her arm grazing against Spencer as she reached, “Just know I’ll be thinking about you helping me out of this dress all night,” she stated before unzipping the dress so so she could step into it. “But first… will you help me into it?” Nicola turned around, sweeping her dark hair to the side, so Spencer could zip her in.

SPENCER PORTER

As they separated, Spencer knew that she was in trouble. It was mere seconds and she was already craving to feel Nicola pressed against her once more, listening to the sighs and gasps that she could pull from her body. “I know,” she quipped easily as she pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, allowing her hair to fall in loose tresses around her shoulders. The smirk was permanently placed on her lips - she was sure of that. However, at Nicola’s next words, Spencer was licking her lips at the thought of all the things she would be thinking about at dinner. “If you’re lucky, I’ll be taking it off too,” she said with a hopeful tone. She knew it was all based on how dinner went, but she was worried it would be a night of comforting more than anything. Without starting to get dressed, Spencer was quick to step behind Nicola, slowly dragging the zipper up on the back of her dress as she leaned in closely, her lips pressing a lingering kiss below her ear as she let out a soft moan, knowing the closeness would make things worse. She was playing a dangerous game with Nicola, and they both knew it.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Dark eyes narrowed playfully at Spencer’s clipped reply, but she suddenly softened at the sight of her blonde hair falling loose around her shoulders. Unable to help herself she ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, as her hand slid to the back of her neck, she pulled her close. Nicola licked her lips as she thought over her next words carefully, “You better finish what you started,” she dared. That wager depended on how the rest of the evening went, but she couldn’t deny that the thought of them returning to the safety of Spencer’s room at the end of the night to continue was appealing. Not only appealing, it felt right. Maybe that was the want clouding Nicola’s judgement, but in all honesty she didn’t really care. Nicola leaned back against Spencer, reaching her neck to place a kiss on Spencer’s jaw. That soft moan reverberating in her ears would surely be playing on a loop in her mind all night long. Nicola turned around to take a final look at Spencer in all her perfectly sculpted half naked glory. Before Spencer could move to put on her dress, Nicola reached for her make up bag, applying a fresh coat of dark red lipstick. The temptation to leave her calling card right on Spencer's neck was strong, but she wouldn’t be able to look Mr. Porter in the eye throughout dinner with her lipstick on his daughter’s neck. Instead she slowly leaned and placed a kiss on Spencer’s chest, right above her heart, she pulled away admiring her handy work. The dark shade of her makeup perfectly contrasting Spencer’s pale skin. If she couldn’t mark Spencer like she wanted this was surely a compromise. “A bookmark for later,” she smirked, placing a soft kiss to Spencer’s lips this time being careful not to make a mess of her own make up. “Now get dressed… I think we were supposed to be downstairs like five minutes ago,” she chuckled.

SPENCER PORTER

There was something so simple and easy about being surrounded by the four walls of her childhood bedroom with Nicola. She was sure thousands of sleepovers had taken place within the walls, as well as hundreds of moments where they blurred and skewed the lines of friendship. “If you’re lucky,” she teased back with a sparkle in her eye. It felt right for Nicola to be in her arms, kissing her jawline as they teased one another relentlessly. Was it wrong with how Spencer’s life was going in New York? Absolutely it was. But she couldn’t stop herself from giving into the moment of it all. With Nicola’s next actions though, Spencer was sent spiraling into a whole new world of emotions. All she could think about were their first moments alone after they were reuniting - Nicola marking Spencer over and over again with her lipstick. But now, with the placement of the lipstick over her heart? She was both feeling a swelling of her chest and a burning sensation between her legs for more. Spencer kissed her back, sighing against her lips as she nodded after. “Uh huh.” Her tone was pathetic, but still, she reached for her black dress, sliding it over her body before she was smoothing out the front. She knew that she looked good, messy hair and all. “I...” Spencer started before she was wetting her lips, a hazy, drunk feeling overtaking her body as she stared at Nicola with all the want in the world. “I’m gonna try not to think about how I want to be fucking his daughter whenever I talk to your dad,” Spencer said bluntly as she leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against Nicola’s cheek and turning to open her bedroom door and walk into the hallway.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola eyed Spencer without abandon as the blonde pulled the black dress on. It was somehow better than she imagined whenever the dress was first pulled out. As she gave Spencer a once over her mouth gaped, for once she was absolutely speechless. Sure, it wasn’t the first time she’d seen her best friend all dolled up, they’d been to countless benefits together, but it had been a while. Nicola slipped on her heels and turned to face Spencer only to be met by words that made her knees buckle, and a soft whimper escape her lips. Spencer opened the door and she wasn’t sure how she should be expected to greet their parents with those words ringing in her ears. As they stepped out of the safety of Spencer’s room, she eyed the hallway and didn’t hear anybody coming. “And I’ll try not to think about their daughter on her knees when I’m trying play gracious house guest.” With that she turned on her heel, squared her shoulders, and tried her damnedest to ignore the fire Spencer ignited in her. Nicola stepped down the stairs preparing herself to make an entrance considering dinner was supposed to start ten minutes ago. “Sorry we’re… late? Wait where are my parents?” She asked confused, suddenly worried that they’d ruined dinner before they even arrived. ”They’ll be here in twenty minutes. I know you girls take forever to get ready,” Mrs. Porter called from the kitchen. A blush coated Nicola’s cheeks as she turned to face Spencer, their hair messy and makeup half done.

SPENCER PORTER

As Nicola walked away from Spencer, she couldn't help but shake her head with a slight smirk painted on her lips. While she knew exactly what to say to get Nicola riled up, the same could be said about Nicola. Her eyes easily slid down the backside of her best friend, taking her in as she started following after her. They were in the ear shot of parents now, so there was no getting the last and final word with the conversation, much to Spencer's dismay. However, the announcement of Nicola's parents not arriving for another twenty minutes was enough to make her heart swell with excitement. "Okay. We'll just... go back to my room for a bit. I need to touch up my mak -" No, you'll both help your father set the table. Your make-up looks immaculate, Spency. Like clockwork, Spencer's eyes rolled at her mother's so called 'cock blocking' abilities. Sometimes, she wondered if her mother knew about what was always lingering beneath the surface of her friendship with Nicola. Spencer rushed over to her mother, kissing her on the cheek before grabbing the plates from the counter top. "Yes mama," she said, her tone dripping with innocence that had suddenly arrived as she looked across the room at Nicola, a smirk appearing on her lips. God, she missed Wilmington.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola smirked at Spencer as she tried to excuse them back to her room. It was obvious where her mind was still at, and honestly if it weren’t for Mama Porter asking them to help set up, she would have eagerly followed. Then Nicola stopped dead in her tracks, that sly smirk blossomed into a full smile, as the interaction between Spencer and her Mom unfolded. In that moment it occurred to her just how long it’s been since she’s been around The Porter’s as a family. It was nice to be around them all, and Nicola truly felt her heart swell with joy. As Spencer grabbed the plates, Nicola made herself useful and grabbed the silverware and began setting the table. Maybe she followed a little too closely behind Spencer as she set the plates on the table, her front pressed to Spencer’s back as she reached to place the appropriate silverware next to the plates. As if right on cue Mr. Porter entered the dining room, centerpiece in hand, and Nicola put a few inches of distance between herself and Spencer. “Looks like we’re all being put to work, huh?” She teased, approaching Mr. Porter to give him a half hug. “Nice sweater by the way. Knits are very on trend this season, Mr. P.”

SPENCER PORTER

Setting the table with Nicola was sending Spencer spiraling back to their high school days whenever weekday dinners were a casual and routine thing. She smiled shyly to herself at Nicola following so closely, glancing over her shoulder at her with a flirty pucker of her lips. It was freeing to be going through the mundane things once more. However, as soon as the closeness was gone, Spencer was searching for the why. When she found it, she couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t listen to her. It’s the biggest dad sweater you could find, wasn’t it?” Spencer chimed, her tone respectfully playful as she walked over to her dad, leaning over the back of his wheelchair and giving him a hug from behind. “Feeling good today?” She asked, her tone quiet as she craned her neck to see her fathers face. ”You worry too much, Spence. I’m feeling great. I got all my girls,” as he spoke, Mr. Porter immediately opened his arms, displaying a showing to the three woman in the room. Spencer laughed as she eyed Nicola with a nod. “It’s good to have things back to normal.” And with that, she kissed his cheek before pushing him towards the kitchen. As Spencer added the final touches to the table, she mentally screamed at herself to keep her distance from Nicola whilst in the midst of her parents. Once the doorbell rang though, Spencer found herself fleeing to Nicola’s side as she playfully jabbed her side. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, leaning closer to speak into her ear. “I’ll start swinging if not.”

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola found herself lost in the moment shared between Spencer and her dad. Everything from the way she gingerly made sure he was feeling fine to the way he playfully deflected just felt right. Part of her wished it could have always been like this, but she could respect the journey Spencer needed to go through to get to the point where she was now. It just made her more proud of her friend for all the progress she made. This moment was a vivid and welcome reminder of that. She was pulled from her own thoughts when Spencer mentioned it was nice to have things back to normal. “I couldn’t agree more,” she responded, a content smile overtaking her face. Then the doorbell was ringing and before Nicola could reach for Spencer, she was already by her side. She gave a thankful smile as her friend assured her things would be okay, “Save your right hook, Rocky. It’ll be okay because I have you here,” she smiled before making her way towards the front of the house to greet her parents. “Don’t worry I got it,” she called to the Porter parents, allowing Mrs. Porter to put the final touches on dinner.When she opened the door and was immediatly swept up in a hug from her mother, she almost forgot about the sea of nerves swirling in her stomach for how the night might go. Your father and I miss you, was whispered in her ear and she held her mom a little closer before looking to her father who was standing as stoic as ever. She chewed the inside of the cheek trying not to imagine all the times her parents entered the threshold of the Porter home arm in arm, and now they stood like statues. Nicola stepped on her tip toes to press a kiss to her father’s cheek, “Thank you for coming.” Her eyes were full of honesty, it meant a lot to her that they would attempt to put their own issues aside for the sake of a cordial family dinner. Her father just nodded, Nicola could tell he was holding his tongue, and while she appreciated it, she wished it wasn’t such an effort. You could at least pretend to be happy to be here… Nicola shot her mother a look first, not expecting her to be the one to start. “Mom… please,” her eyes were pleading with her just to play nice. Nicola lead the way back into dining room ready to get the night over with.

SPENCER PORTER

A smile reached ear to ear at Nicola’s words as Spencer held up her right hand, curling her fingers into a fist as she rubbed her knuckles. Mostly, Spencer was a lover and not a fighter (except for the one time she punched a classmate for calling her a slur in the hallway). Her eyes followed Nicola as she disappeared to answer the door and she immediately felt a swell of nerves grow inside of her stomach. She hadn’t seen the de Rocha’s in years, she was sure of that. What if they hated her? The last time she saw them, she barely looked her way because she couldn’t bear to look at anything during the time after her father’s accident. Spence, darling, can you plea - Spencer’s hand immediately flew up as she flashed her father an apologetic look. She was zeroing in on the conversation at the door. It was an odd position for her to take. In the past, Nicola has always protected little Spencer Porter. But now, it was Spencer’s turn. She ignored her mother’s disapproving look at the eavesdropping her daughter was partaking in, and the way her father was shaking his head. However, neither stopped her. It was as if the pleading sound of Nicola’s voice was her trigger point because before she realized what she was doing, Spencer was walking quickly to the door. “Nic! You didn’t tell me they were here! Mr. and Mrs. deRocha, I missed you guys,” Spencer said, her tone too high pitched and her smile too fake as she approached them, immediately pulling them into a group hug while Nicola walked into the dining room. “Don’t,” Spencer said, the word simple and low as she pulled back with a look towards both of them before smiling wide once more. “My mom has been cooking for the last two hours and it seriously smells incredible in the kitchen, c’mon,” she said, her smile gone as she turned on her heel and walked into the dining room. Her parents eyes were on her, warning her to calm down, but all Spencer could see was Nicola. She demanded eye contact from the girl, a small, sweet smile on her lips. “Mom, the happy guests are here. I’m starving. It smells delicious,” she said with a wide smile as she immediately grabbed the seat next to her father’s place, nodding towards Nicola to sit next to her.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Just as Nicola started to feel the night was going to drag on forever, Spencer swooped in to her rescue. Her tone was unnaturally high and it was obvious, at least to Nicola, the effort Spencer was making. She took this as an opportunity to put some distance between herself and her parents. She lingered in the doorway, seeing the tail end of the hug. Nicola didn’t hear Spencer say anything, but she must’ve. The way both her parents facial expressions quickly changed was an indication of that. Even her father’s face softened... she smiled to herself thankful for the tables being turned. Just how Nicola used to protect Spencer from high school bullies, Spencer was protecting her from her own parents. The painted on smile Spencer put on was gone as she entered the dining room, but the soft smile that replaced it once they caught each other’s gaze made Nicola’s heart swell. As Nicola took her seat next to Spencer and conversation erupted between their parents, she took a moment to grab the other girl’s hand to squeeze it in thanks. The urge to bring her hands to her lips for a gentle kiss was strong, but she resisted thanks to the familiar feeling of their parents prying eyes. “You really did outdo yourself, Mrs. P,” Nicola complimented as the food started to be passed around. Nicola passed a dish to her dad who gave her an uncharacteristically soft smile, her hand found its way to Spencer’s thigh, just gently placed on top, needing that slight contact again. Whatever Spencer did got through to them, even if it was just for the moment, and that was enough for Nicola.

SPENCER PORTER

Spencer had never felt so high on alert as she sat at the table with Nicola’s parents. In a way, she was sure that she was being so protective to make up for the years in which she was absent and had gained a new sense of understanding whilst she protected her father from the prying eyes of their peers after his accident. Her eyes danced from one set of parents to the other, met with differing, intense stares. Her parents were warning, whereas Nicola’s parents were quizzical. She felt powerful. Spencer’s eyes faltered as soon as she felt Nicola’s hand in her own, her attention turning solely to her friend as she squeezed her hand in response. “Leave it to my mom to be a superhero in the kitchen,” Spencer said with a smile, busying herself with grabbing the dishes being passed around the table. She took a moment to scrunch her nose up at her father as he tried passing unnecessary carbohydrates her way before giggling softly. “Mr. and Mrs. de Rocha, you look lovely as always. I don’t think I mentioned th -“ Spencer’s words immediately cut off at Nicola’s hand on her thigh, a smile appearing on her lips as she rested her hand atop Nicola’s. It was simple, but with the fire softly ignited in her stomach, it was enough to steal Spencer’s attention away as she grabbed a fork and began eating with her free hand. This was how things were supposed to be and she loved it. While her parents struck up conversation with Nicola’s, Spencer quickly found herself growing bored as she squeezed Nicola’s hand as a warning and then immediately started guiding Nicola’s hand up the inside of her inner thigh, smirking as she glanced down at her plate. Might as well make things interesting while the grown ups spoke.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola covered her mouth to stifle as chuckle as Spencer cut herself off mid sentence once Nicolas hand was placed on her thigh. Nicola’s Mom looked briefly confused, but responded nonetheless, Thank you, Spencer. It looks like New York is being very kind to you. Nicola tuned her gaze to smile at Spencer, yes New York had been very kind to her. New York brought them both back together. From what I hear you girls spend a lot of time in Nicola’s apartment. Nicola coughed, trying not to choke on the bite she just took, images of their time spent in her apartment a little too much to handle, especially with her hand on Spencer’s thigh. “Yeah, but that’s just boring... studying, movie nights, the usual,” she shrugged. Then Spencer’s hand was nudging Nicola’s hand up her thigh and she bit her lip to suppress a wicked grin. Her hand slid higher and higher, enough that she was now under the hem of her dress, “Spencey you should tell them all about The Showers,” she said sweetly, squeezing her strong thigh.

SPENCER PORTER

Spencer glued a polite grin on her lips as Mrs. de Rocha was speaking to her, simply nodding her head along in conversation. If she were to be honest, the biggest thing she hadn’t missed about dinner parties was the mundane conversations that seemed to sideline the actual dinner part of things. Her amusement was peaked at Nicola’s coughing, a slight laugh edging out of her mouth as she nodded along. “I live in a dorm with a handful of girls, so sometimes it’s nice to just... have a space to go where I don’t always fee crowded.” She explained, her tone steady as her eyes did a once over the table once more. Things seemed calm enough - until Spencer registered just how far Nicola’s hand was sliding up her thigh. She blinked slowly, relishing in the feeling until she heard Nicola’s remark. Her eyebrows raised as she tilted her head to the side. She wasn’t entirely sure why Nicola was suddenly wanting to talk about the things they did behind closed doors - or more so behind closed bathroom doors but... “Oh, the Showers, right. I started playing soccer again and we’re called the April Showers. It’s a lowkey kind of thing but we actually just won a championship last week.” Spencer spoke proudly, trying her damnedest to ignore the moan of excitement she wanted to slip out at Nicola’s hand beneath her dress. Her fingers squeezed around her best friend’s hand almost as warning before she was calming herself down and releasing. The teasing game between them was hardly worth trying to stop - neither of them wanted it to.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola stared down at her plate, pushing her vegetables around with her fork, a smirk plastered to her lips as Spencer fumbled with her words. At the mention of showers, she was positive where Spencer’s mind was at, and though it was unintentional, she smirked knowing what she was thinking about. Honestly, now Nicola’s was wandering there too. The mention of competition immediatly got her father’s reaction, it was so predictable Nicola almost rolled her eyes. That’s impressive, Spencer. You were always such a talented athlete. He complimented before turning his attention back to the conversation he had with Spencer’s father. A crooked smirk tugged at her lips when she remembered Spencer’s words about what she’d try not to be thinking about when talking to her father. “Daddy’s right, Spence. You’re very talented,” she complimented, her finger tips dancing closer between her legs.

SPENCER PORTER

“Thank you, Mr. de Rocha. It was definitely nice to get back on the field and run around. Nic, here, calls me and some of my teammates labradors,” she commented with a laugh before Spencer’s eyes dipped down below the table to see exactly where Nicola’s hand was traveling. God, she could melt right into the chair beneath her and still not feel calm enough to focus on eating. “Th-thanks.” Spencer closed her eyes at her soft whisper to Nicola, knowing more than anything that her voice floundering was only going to make matters worse for the both of them. She was thankful as soon as conversation continued between the parents, her eyes moving to her mother to see the woman staring back at her. Everything alright? You’ve barely touched your food. Spencer nodded her head immediately, nodding towards her dad. “I’ve just been listening to the tech talk. It’s so interesting,” she lied, her hand moving from beneath the table to grab her glass of wine and take a sip. Nicola had free reign now and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Regardless, she ignored her fathers confused look as she finished her wine and grabbed her fork.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola chuckled at the mention of the labrador jokes, “You see enough blondes chasing balls down the field, and the connection just makes itself,” she teased, taking a bite of food, realizing her attention had been focused elsewhere since their meal began. The way Spencer’s voice broke just above a whisper caused Nicola to smirk, but she tried not to make it too obvious. Instead she chewed her bottom lip so hard, she was sure she was ruining her own lipstick. Then Spencer’s hand lifted from hers and all Nicola saw was a green light. One hand still on the inside of Spencer’s thigh she urged her to spread her legs ever so slightly. Nicola eyed the table trying to gauge where everybody’s focus was. She squeezed Spencer’s thigh as Mrs. Porter asked if she was feeling okay. She knew they were playing a dangerous game, but that just made it more fun. They wouldn’t dare be this bold back in the city. Then the conversation dispersed and Spencer and Nicola were yet again left to their own devices. Her fingertips ghosted over the front of Spencer’s underwear, the touch barely there. If her gaze wasn’t so focused on her Spencer’s reactions she would have heard her mom trying to get her attention. Nic… Nicola! Her gaze snapped to her mother across the table from her. “Hmm? Yes, mom?” She answered, her tone way too sweet for her hand being up Spencer’s dress. We were trying to ask about your internship, but your mind seems to be elsewhere. Nicola gave the table an apologetic smile, her hand now massaging Spencer’s thigh. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind,” she cleared her throat with a cough. “But it’s wonderful! Even if I’m just getting coffees and making tweets, it’s a pleasure to see how the business is run from the inside.” When her answer seemed to satisfy her mother’s curiosity and the conversation moved towards the next benefit they were planning, she turned her head to face Spencer, “More wine, Spence?”

SPENCER PORTER

As the dinner progressed, Spencer felt herself diving further into the rings of her own personal hell. All she wanted in the moment was the moan out in delight at all of the things that Nicola was teasing her with below the table top. Her fingers were curled tightly around the fork in her hand, but she wasn’t anywhere near shoveling food in her mouth - if she were, she was afraid she would choke from the actions. Spencer glanced over at Nicola as she began speaking about her internship, her pupils nearly blown from the thoughts circling her mind. It was hard to focus on the mundane things of their life in New York City with the excitement that Wilmington was seemingly bringing themselves this weekend. “Mhmm,” she hummed our carefully, turning her head to look directly at Nicola. “I would love some more wine.” She was desperately trying to make it look as if she had herself under control, but in reality, she never felt more out of control. Spence, dear, are your classes going well? At her father’s tone, she immediately whipped her head to the other side, an innocent smile managing to disperse on her lips. “Classes are incredible, dad. Mid terms were a breeze. I have a lot of coursework to complete whenever I get back,” Spencer explained, her hand moving Nicola’s away from her thigh suddenly. “I’m actually writing a paper about the captain of my soccer team because she’s been such an inspiration for me since I’ve moved. Her name is Fiona and you all would absolutely adore her.” Thats incredible to hear! We’re glad you’re doing as well as you are. Spencer smiled genuinely with a nod of her head. “Thank you. Living in New York is very... rewarding.” she began, immediately sliding her hand from blocking Nicola’s wandering hand to beneath her dress now.Her fingers were quick to explore upwards, a single digit cascading across the front of her underwear. “It’s great being back with families company too, right Nic?” Spencer masked the smirk on her lips as she lightly began rubbing her fingers across where she knew Nicola needed it most.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola poured Spencer another glass of wine, a full blown smirk on her lips. She could only hope everybody was assuming it was from the girls finally at the big kid’s table able to pour their own glasses of wine without stealing from their parents later. As Spencer spoke about the paper she was working on, Nicola went her dance her fingers along the front of her panties, but her hand was quickly swiped away, and she couldn’t help but pout. From where Nicola was sitting she wasn’t done yet, but turns out Spencer had other plans. Before she could protest, the tables were quickly turned and Spencer’s hand was beneath her dress. Without the teasing touches to her thighs, she wasn’t prepared for Spencer’s hand rubbing between her legs. Nicola moaned and pathetically covered her mouth as if she were masking a yawn. Her instincts were screaming at her to grab Spencer’s wrist and stop before somebody catches on, but she didn’t need to be touching Spencer to tease her, and that sounded like a lot more fun. Instead of stopping Spencer’s motions she placed her hand over the other girl’s applying more pressure, she locked eyes with Spencer momentarily letting her know that Nicola was hers to play with. Nicola was about to lean back in her seat, and just enjoy the freedom she gave to Spencer until she heard the familiar work text tone on her father’s phone. It wasn’t the phone out at the dinner table that bugged her, it was the fight she knew would quickly follow. You couldn’t even make it to dessert could you? Her mother said in a hushed whisper meant for the whole table to hear. Somebody’s gotta pay the credit card bills you rack up, he retorted not even looking up from his phone. Nicola wrapped her hand around Spencer’s wrist removing it from under her dress, but tentatively linked their fingers together, needing just the simple contact. Nicola didn’t have the energy to argue with her parents, it was obvious nothing would get through to them, “I think I’d like to be excused,” she said eyes never looking up from her plate.

SPENCER PORTER

The moment that Nicola's hand guided Spencer's to rub harder against her core was the moment that Spencer was sure that she had died and gone to heaven. There was something so undeniably sexy about the way Nicola had taken control, yet given up every single ounce of control that made Spencer feel like she was about to sink into the floorboards of her parent's living room. She persisted through her want and need to take Nicola on top of the dinner table, and instead, focused on the way that she was looking at her. She was sure that she was going to lose her damn mind whenever she heard the text tone that sent a shiver through everyone's spine. Spencer hadn't even seen the de Rocha's in years, and she still knew what the text tone meant. Her eyes immediately softened as she focused her attention on Nicola's face in a completely different way, sighing in frustration at everything her parents were ruining: the dinner, Nicola's weekend, and the fun that had been had. Her jaw gritted as she heard the display of conversation before her, feeling her blood boiling at how the pair were speaking with one another. The only form of soothing that came was from Nicola's hand in her own, but even then, that stopped nothing. "Are you fucking kidding me," Spencer mumbled to herself after the conversation unfolded, immediately feeling her father's hand rest on top of her free hand. Spencer Jayne, don't. Blue hues immediately flashed over to her mother, hearing the warning tone of her voice before she wet her lips, trying to calm herself. It worked for a moment, and then Nicola was asking to be excused. Fuck that. "Honestly, what the hell is wrong with you?" Spencer stated, immediately standing up, not giving a damn that her hand was still linked with Nicola's as she did so. She could feel like begging and pleading stares of her parents, immediately shrugging them off."We're here for an entire weekend and you wonder why she's only spending two hours at most seeing you? You can't even keep your shit on lock for two damn hours." Her tone was too loud and she knew it, but Spencer was seeing nothing but red. Nicola deserved better than this shit. That's enough, Spencer. Her father's tone was a warning that shot right into the cortex of Spencer's brain, making her gaze shift from the de Rocha's and right to him. He nodded towards the stairs and Spencer knew that she was truly fucked at this point. "It was really nice spending the ten minutes you two could put on an act. Maybe next time we can make it to fifteen minutes, but I won't hold my breath," Spencer snapped, her tone far too nice and sweet as she tugged on Nicola's hand and sped walked to the staircase. She could hear the damage control beginning from her parent's to Nicola's the moment she left, and quite frankly, she didn't give a damn. She didn't stop moving until they were behind the safety and privacy of her bedroom. "Are you okay?" She asked immediately, her hands moving to Nicola's cheeks as thumbs slid against familiar skin.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

As Nicola asked to be excused she expected Mrs. Porter to begrudgingly agree, and she’d drag Spencer back to her bedroom, needing to put a staircase and a closed door between herself and her parents. Instead, Spencer was speaking up on her behalf, honestly saying all the things she wished she had the energy to. She’d given up fighting for her parents before she’d even moved to New York, that was just the final step. Nicola’s free hand covered their laced fingers, she didn’t want to put Spencer in too much of an awkward situation with her own parents later. Still, the way she so fiercely stood up for Nicola, it made it feel like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. It was something any best friend would do… but the way it made Nicola feel? She wasn’t so sure. She wasn’t given an opportunity to dwell too much on those feelings, because Spencer was tugging her hand up the staircase, and she happily obliged. She felt like she was going to suffocate in that dining room, her parents digs at each other filled the room like smoke. The confused looks on her parents faces were priceless, it was obvious nobody had called them out on their bullshit since Nicola, and the fact it was once soft spoken Spencer Porter? That made it even better. She could already tell how this would play out: her mom would send her a text, they’d do lunch before her flight back to the city, and there would be flowers waiting for her at her apartment from her father. They were utterly predictable, it’s why Nicola needed to move in the first place.Once they were behind the sanctuary of Spencer’s closed bedroom door, Nicola felt her posture slump. She felt small and what she wanted more than anything was to get out of her dress, and crawl into bed. Spencer’s soft touch kept her from moving to her bag to get a change of clothes, her eyes welled with tears, but she was quick to blink them away. It was such a simple question but she wasn’t sure how to answer. She would be okay, but she didn’t feel okay. She swallowed thickly and without warning attached herself to Spencer burying her face in the crook of her neck, “I’m so sorry. I know your parents could have worked some magic and turned the evening around, but I couldn’t stick around and see if it got much worse than that.”

SPENCER PORTER

"Stop," Spencer easily spat out as her arms immediately wound themselves around Nicola's waist as her face was buried in the crook of her neck. "None of this is something you have to apologize for." It was the truth. There wasn't a single thing that Nicola could have done or said that would have stopped the comments from spewing between her parents. After all, Spencer was sure her parents had warned them, Nicola, and even herself had given out warnings. In Spencer's defense, her explosive reaction to the words shared between the couple was the right, dutiful thing that should have happened. Plus, their reactions were something she would never be able to scrap from her mind. "You're okay now though, Nic, I'm not gonna let them say anything else around you. Not tonight." As she spoke her words, Spencer could hear the familiar tone of voices of her parents trying to reason with the de Rocha's and like clockwork, the front door closing firmly. Of course they would leave. Why wouldn't they? Spencer was well aware that she had just properly destroyed the both of them with a level of embarrassment that she hadn't even been sure she was capable of. "Come on," she whispered, her voice soft as she pulled back and immediately started pulling Nicola back towards her bed. "Let's just get in bed and climb into a cuddle puddle and forget this shit happened. They're not worth the worry and stress and... Nic, you look beautiful, come on." With everything in her, Spencer didn't want the girl to cry any more tears. Not over people who clearly didn't give the same amount of damns as her.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola heard Spencer loud and clear, and rationally she knew she had no fault in her parents behavior, but this was Spencer’s trip too. They only had a handful of days in Wilmington and the de Rocha’s ruined what should have been a lovely family meal. The grip Nicola had around Spencer’ s waist tightened, when she said she wouldn’t allow her parents to further ruin her night. “Thank you,” she breathed unable to really formulate words for how much Spencer’s actions meant to her. She stepped in the line of fire when it came to her parents, and that wasn’t something she took lightly. It was nice having a little bit of New York Spencer with her in Wilmington. Then she heard the door click from downstairs and she was torn between feeling relief that their words could no longer find her ears, and grief, knowing the real fight was surely beginning. She’d heard their arguments when they thought nobody was around to hear. They were brutal. Then Spencer was beckoning her towards the bed in a way that she didn’t imagine when they were getting ready for the evening. Words were still failing Nicola at the softness in Spencer’s actions, a rarity for the girl, so she brought a hand to one of Spencer’s cheeks and kissed her gently on the other. “You still always know just what to say,” she spoke before turning her back towards Spencer. “Will you unzip me? There’s an old soccer jersey calling my name from your dresser.”

SPENCER PORTER

You still always know just what to say. The words reverberated around her skull, striking her in ways that she wasn’t sure why. Whenever they were younger, Spencer had always known how to handle Nicola. It didn’t matter if she was mad, sad, happy, or excited. She knew how to handle the girl - and no matter how many years passed, that was never going to change. “Of course,” Spencer said, her feet carrying her closer to Nicola as she positioned herself behind her. Well, technically she was keeping her promise of taking her dress off. Spencer didn’t like to see herself as a liar after all. Her nimble fingers slowly slid the zipper down, her eyes taking in every inch of skin that was being displayed in the process. She was right, Nicola was beautiful in the way that only art work could be described. Spencer swallowed hard, willing her self control to kick in as she pulled back with a weak smile. “Which Jersey is calling your name?” She questioned, her tone low and soft as she stepped across the room. She didn’t trust herself in the moment and now wasn’t the time to continue their under the table shenanigans. She rifled through her suitcase, grabbing a graphic t-shirt and baggy black sweatpants. While she had been on full display earlier, Spencer found herself changing in the most modest of ways as her eyes averted from Nicola. Now wasn’t the time.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola gave Spencer a small thankful smile as she was helped out of her dress. The garment fell to the floor as she walked towards the dresser, Spencer’s question ringing in her ears as she searched for the jersey in question. When she found it she held it up, “The one with the eternal grass stains that even your Wonder Woman mother couldn’t manage to get out,” she chuckled before pulling the jersey over her head. On her way back to Spencer she grabbed two make up wipes from her bag. One for herself and one for the mark she’d left earlier in the evening. Without asking but with tenative fingers, she pulled down the collar of Spencer’s t shirt, revealing the lipstick mark. Nicola wiped it off, they both knew tonight wasn’t going to be their night and maybe that was for the best. Once they were both comfortable, Nicola moved towards the side of the bed she’d claimed as her own for the weekend. It was no coincidence it was the same side she’d always wind up on during their sleepovers. She climbed beneath the covers and waited for Spencer to join her, once she did, Nicola immediatly moved into her space. Nicola rested her head against Spencer’s chest, her fingers danced lazy patterns across her arms. After a few moments of comfortable silence washed over them, Nicola finally spoke up, “Thank you. Thank you for not letting my parents getaway with talking to each other like that. Thank you for doing it… for me.”

SPENCER PORTER

As Nicola grabbed onto the collar of Spencer's shirt, she instantly felt her breathing stop for a moment. Her eyes flickered across the girl's features, taking her in as she allowed her shallow breathing to return. It may not be their night, but Spencer knew that the touching between them was far from over - just displayed in a different way. She was made knowledgeable of such Nicola things as soon as she climbed into her bed and her best friend was cuddling closer to her. Spencer wrapped her arm around the girl's body, bringing her closer as she sighed softly. "Nic, you deserve a crap ton better than them acting like that," Spencer said, her tone of voice soft and quiet as she rolled her eyes, thoroughly done with the older de Rocha family. Spencer knew that her words had been rightful and just to speak, but she also wasn't dumb. It would be a matter of moments before her mother was storming into her room. "Promise me you'll never let someone talk to you like that, yeah?" As Spencer spoke, she turned her body to lay on her side, facing Nicola more as she brought her cradled body closer to hers. She matched the girl's soothing movements, moving her free hand to draw faint patterns on Nicola's cheek and neck. She loved the moments like this.

NICOLA DE ROCHA

Nicola bit her tongue about what she deserved. Her parents had been acting like children for years, this was just Spencer’s first time being exposed to it. In fact all things considered it was relatively mild, but still too much for Nicola to stomach. Then Spencer was pulling her closer and she felt her body melt at the touch, any tension that was caused by her parent’s display was soon replaced by a feeling of peace. There was something about Spencer making her promise not to allow anybody to talk to her like her parents do each other that warmed her heart, she looked up to catch the gaze of familiar blue eyes, “I promise,” she replied kissing the girl’s cheek before nuzzling back into the crook of her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut as she focused on Spencer’s fingers, the motions relaxing her so completely that she felt sleep creeping up on her. Safe in Spencer’s arms she easily drifted off, ready to forget about the dinner party from hell.

SPENCER PORTER

Spencer’s eyes slipped shut at Nicola’s lips on her cheek, feeling a heat rushing through her entire body. She wasn’t sure why, but there was a fluttering in her stomach. It always seemed to happen in their softest and closest of moments. “I promise the rest of the weekend will be better,” she whispered softly, her lips cascading against the top of her forehead as she smiled. While she didn’t have a lot of plans for them, she was wanting to spend every waking second with the girl. She figured she wouldn’t have to share time with the de Rocha’s after how dinner went anyways. Spencer looked over Nicola’s face, smiling at how relaxed she seemed while she was drifting off into sleep. Her fingers continued their movements, dipping down to trace her jawline and neck muscles in complete silence and bliss. Before she knew it, she heard footsteps coming barreling down the stairs and knew what was going to come. She shifted her body slightly, immediately slamming her index fingers against her lips to show the importance of keeping quiet. Spencer Jayne Porter, was all her mother was able to get out before a very slow moving but angry Spencer was pointing at a sleeping Nicola in her arms. “Tomorrow you can yell,” Spencer pleaded with her mother, feeling a sense of protectiveness coming over her. She smiled as her mom left the room quietly before she was settling next to her best friend, pulling her closer, and immediately feeling herself drift off to sleep.

#para: 005 #para: all

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eventuallyfall-blog · 7 years

Text

13 Envelopes

pairing: reader x lin summary: After graduating from UCLA, you would find any way to escape having to go back home. Lucky for you, your Aunt Jasmine Cephas Jones had organized a way for you to have the adventure you’d never gotten to have before. You’re ready to take her up on the offer. warnings: rpf (naturally), mentions of teen pregnancy, swearing a/n: i was tryin to post this august 6th but then i had a hard time writing thru it bc i made myself sad with my writing because that’s a thing i do i guess. anyway let’s get crackin tagged: @defenestrate-yourself-please@justabravelittleblogger @decayingtrash @andschuyler @linslovelylocks @sarahgurl09 @artofnerdom

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Ever since the date, you had been utterly giddy. You were suddenly extremely grateful that your Aunt Jasmine had decided to shove you to asking someone out. It was like you were walking on air, actually. “So wait, he actually kissed you?” “For the last time, Pippa, yes,” you said with the widest grin as you remembered the feel of his lips against yours. It'd been ages since you and Pippa had gotten to hang out. Right now, Pippa and you had made tea and decided to catch up on the couch. “I mean, you knew Aunt Jas was going to make me ask someone out, though? You couldn't have warned me?”

Pippa laughed, shaking her head. “Your aunt really wanted everything in the envelopes to be a surprise so no, I couldn't,” she said with a grin. “Besides, I only knew the contents of that one letter because she mentioned that you were still single and she felt that you should be going on dates and what not. I think she did you a favor. From the way you and Lin were acting, the two of you would've danced around asking the other out until someone else asked you out and end up married to someone else. Which is what happened with this other girl he liked a few years back.”

“Really,” you said with your eyebrows going up. “So then it sounds like Lin also owes Jas a thank you and not just me.”

“Oh for sure,” she said with a giggle, leaning back with a bright grin. “You're a catch! I mean, you are so pretty and smart. Exactly his type, funnily enough. Which it turns out that's also Michael's type.”

“Who the fuck is Michael?”

“The guy the girl he liked ended up with,” she explained as she finished off her tea and stood up. “Lin was bitter about it for a while there, but I think he's getting over it. Oh, you should open the next letter. I wanna know what letter five is all about.”

Envelope five had a small drawing of a girl that looked vaguely familiar. It took a minute before you realized it was your mother, age twenty-seven. She hadn't looked that vibrant and glowing in years. It was like life had started to suck the life out of her. You didn't realize that Aunt Jasmine remembered how your mom looked back then. Normally you discarded the envelopes but you set this one down with the intention of keeping it.

Honey bun,

Sometimes life doesn't have direction. When I was born, Anya was already fifteen and a full fledged teenager. Our dad and her mom had split ages ago – shortly after Anya was born, actually. Dad was only nineteen when your mom was born and her mother was only eighteen. Instead of taking responsibility and staying with dad, she split. He knew that relationships when you're a teenager aren't meant to last. He was worried that Anya's relationship wouldn't make it despite your existence and that she'd be left with little to nothing. Honestly, what I admire most about Anya and your father is that they still went to college and took care of you. It wasn't an easy task and I'm not sure you remember them being on food stamps and living in a crappy married couples dorm in Stanford.

They made it work, though. Stanford saw the happiest years of your parents' lives because there's something about being in school that made it easier. They had a roof over their heads, they had a schedule. It all fell apart upon graduation – which you probably don't remember well. I barely remember it myself. The only reason I know is because my dad told me about how he'd been surprised how steady their relationship was while he and my mom were raising me. I think when I turned ten is when your mother decided she didn't want to see him and my mom together anymore but I still wanted to see you and her. So I started visiting California on my own on dad's dime with his blessing.

Relationships are a tricky thing to explain, actually. It's the sort of thing that can feel like you're spinning rapidly out of control and it's easy to ditch them once it starts getting too serious. When you've got dreams, it's easy to see love itself as a baggage. That's how I once thought of love, anyway. Neither your mother nor I had any real model of healthy relationships. I think it might be why your mother is so defensive of her relationship with your father. It's... real. Or real enough, really. I think once you've spent twenty-eight years with someone, it becomes harder to say this isn't working. You don't want to throw away all those years together. Especially when you can say you'd been together since high school.

See, your mother doesn't hear criticism well, especially since dad's been trying to get her out of that relationship since before you were born. Which is the only reason I was okay with the relationship, I think. It made me an aunt to you. You're the greatest thing to come out of that relationship. And honestly, this is why envelope five is a wild card – you get to decide what you need to do. You can open envelope six whenever you feel it's appropriate.

All my love, Aunt Jas

There was no answers to this. You couldn't tell what the appropriate time to open envelope six was. For some reason, right after reading this letter didn't feel like the right time. You tucked away the sixth envelope in your purse, figuring that the perfect moment would hit you eventually. You already knew your family had been a bit screwed up – it was obvious to anyone. Between the fact your aunt was barely two years older than and you being the product of a teenage pregnancy and your mother somehow also being the product of teenage pregnancy (you wondered what the odds on that happening were), there was too much to your family that you didn't want to go into. In fact, when Lin specifically asked about your family during the date you went out of your way to focus exclusively on Aunt Jasmine. It had just been easier at the time.

You talked about how before Aunt Jasmine turned 15, she had stayed in your room during summer vacations and how when she was 15 she started staying in fancy hotels under her dad's name. How she was the one who helped you picked out your homecoming dress freshman and sophomore year and how lost you felt when she wasn't there to help after. You danced around why she stopped showing up and merely mentioned being surprised at the contact she'd made two years ago. For some reason, it felt like luck that you hadn't opened the envelopes until now. While you were certain this trip would've been just as amazing two years ago, it felt like a crescendo in your life. Like this was the drum roll, leading up to something important that you've yet to figure out.

Maybe you were investing too much stock in these envelopes your aunt gave you. Maybe the goal wasn't to figure your life out. After all, you'd only been 22 when the letters arrived. There's no way it was as simple as “help you figure your life out”. Whatever was going on, you figured a breather from the envelopes would help you sort out what you needed to do next. What you needed was something to clear your head. Some space away from them, something that would take you away from the right now.

The answer of what you needed to do next was see the Museum of Natural History. You weren't certain how your mind connected the need for distance from the now to history. Perhaps it had been on your mind a lot due to your recent conversations with Lin. He texted you almost every day now, telling you how he couldn't wait to see you again. It was nice to see his name flash across your phone screen with your heart racing every time, even as you were swiping on the blood red of Vampira from Kat Von D. You texted Lin, asking him to send your aunt to meet you at the Museum of Natural History. A slight grin appeared on your face as he texted back with your aunt's number and that he'll let her know you'd like to see her.

It was then that you realized that you never told your aunt that you had bought a laptop and phone in New York City. You supposed you should probably let her know that you had done that and explain that you figured that you'd be staying in New York City for a while. It'd already been almost a month, you realized with a start. How long where you going to stay? You weren't even halfway through the envelopes and it's already taken almost a month to get through them. It was then that you started to calculate out how long it'd been. You arrived June 20 – a week after graduating. It was now July 18 – in two days it would be a month. Suddenly you wondered if you should be getting through the envelopes faster.

You were grinning when your aunt showed up. Here was the thing about your aunt: you always felt like she was so much prettier than you. It was just since the two of you were so close in age it seemed like you and her should have bloomed at the same time. However, when Jasmine bloomed, you... didn't. Jasmine got the attention from the boys and at one point over the summer, a crush you'd had all summer long ended up trying to get your aunt Jasmine's number. It was demoralizing to have your aunt get the guy you liked, to say the least. That was when your self confidence was definitely at its lowest.

Right now was no exception either. It was why you were still surprised that Lin showed an interest in you over your aunt – who was older (and a gap between 35 and 26 was far less insane than the gap between 35 and 24), with lighter skin and with far more control over her own curls, and far more knowledgeable about theater than you. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe this was the same woman you had once shared baths with at age five and harder still to believe that someone would actually chose you over her. She threw her arms around you, a big grin on her face. “Let's go look at some dinosaur bones.”

Dinosaur bones wasn't exactly what you had in mind – you'd really wanted to see the planetarium. You figured maybe there was a chance the two of you could do both. Some time to see dinosaurs and stars. While logically, you knew museums like this existed all over the country something about New York City made it feel different. It was that feeling again; that feeling that felt like you'd been struck by lightening and were unable to put the flames out. “And maybe some stars later?”

Jasmine laughed slightly – you weren't sure if it was because of your predictability or because she was laughing at you. You took the favorable option. “You want to look at the observatory, huh?”

And for a while, everything went fine. Aunt Jasmine starting telling you the stories of backstage life, with you clinging to every word and realizing you'd never met the rest of the cast beyond Phillipa and Lin. “So when am I going to get to meet everyone else?”

“In due time, honey bun,” Jasmine said as she read the plaque for the giant set of bones that was in front of the two of you. “Pippa says you're the best roommate she's ever had. She comes home and you've already cleaned everything and have a hot meal waiting for her. Sounds incredibly domestic.”

You supposed domestic was the right word for it. You found yourself settling more into Pippa's apartment over the past month. A week after arriving, you'd hung your clothes up in the closet. Two weeks after, you starting writing your own events you needed to get to on the big whiteboard that Pippa had hanging up in the kitchen. Three days ago, you paid for groceries in the place after you'd run out of chicken. You hadn't realized how quickly you slipped into treating Pippa's apartment like “home”. “I suppose it's just cause I can't do anything without a clear head. Cleaning helps.”

“You'd always been a neat freak,” Jasmine said with a sly grin on her face. “Whenever you'd come over to my hotel, you'd yell at me over leaving my clothes everywhere. Renee and Pip do the same thing in the dressing room. Well not yell... more like sternly talk to me about how it's a shared space.”

Jasmine was right – she'd always been messy and you'd always been the clean one. Cleaning up after everyone else's mess, the same way you always had chosen the clear cut path rather than taking risks. It had been the biggest opposition between you and aunt Jasmine. She was messy, a risk taker, the one who broke the rules. You were clean, the steady course, the one who abode by every rule. Even your notebooks told this – clean, neat, elegant notes. Everything laid out neatly in stark contrast with Jasmine. Her lighter but somehow messier. “You probably might need my help,” you teased. “I'm willing to come look at previews any time.”

“Oh no you don't,” she said, her eyes going wide. “Pippa insists you need to get the full experience opening night. Star studded VIP treatment and all that. I kinda agree with her.”

You shrugged, figuring at least you could find out how much 128 gigabytes really could store when it came to pictures. It did go against the spirit of the trip, but since it was starting to feel more like it'd be months before you returned back to reality... you wanted a way to call your mother is what you told yourself. You missed home. But you knew that it was all because you wanted a way to keep in contact with those you'd met in New York City. “Pippa likes to be bossy, doesn't she?”

And then your phone went off. The loud ringing meant it was probably Lin – either texting you or calling you. And then you saw Jasmine's face – you'd never seen that look on her face. Her lips had parted and her eyes just had a hint of something that looked... like hurt. The only time you'd ever seen her seem hurt is when your mother had told her that she was too young to understand her. “You brought your phone? On the trip where I said don’t bring your phone?”

Logically, you knew you didn't have to explain yourself if you had brought your phone with you. You knew that you were an adult and she couldn't prevent you from. But you didn't like how vulnerable Jasmine looked. Your aunt wasn't a vulnerable person. So instead of the 'so what if I had' answer on the tip of your tongue, you said instead, “No, I bought a new phone. The instructions didn't say I couldn't buy new electronics.”

“It was... implied,” Jasmine said, briskly starting to walk away from you. And your heart sank. You chased after her, calling her name until she spun around, clearly upset. “You just... you violated the spirit of the adventure!”

You sputtered in response. “The spirit of the adventure,” you said, seeing red. “We haven't spoken in almost ten years! And the first thing I get from you is ditch your phone and your entire life in Los Angeles to come hang out in New York City! We were like sisters growing up but here we are and I had no idea you were making a Broadway debut!”

Jasmine looked hurt by this. “At the time when I sent those, I didn't know I'd be making a debut on Broadway,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and pulling away. You knew that this was probably a point where you could apologize and everything would be fine and the two of you could go off the planetarium but the logic had checked out for the day. “What about you, huh? You took two years to even get around to this! It was supposed to be a graduation gift!”

“Graduation gift,” you said incredulously, shaking your head. “A better graduation gift would have been actually coming to my commencement ceremony. But you weren't there. You had... three separate tries at now! High school graduation – where were you? Not there! Bachelor's? Not there! Masters? Nope! I had to find out through your cast mates that you even knew that I had gotten my masters!” You paused, realizing by the look on her face that you had touched a nerve. “I'm flying back to LA. Tonight.”

And you stormed off with aunt Jasmine making no attempt to stop you from leaving. Yet when you arrived at Pippa's apartment with the intent of going back to Los Angeles and forgetting about the rest of the envelopes, your phone buzzed yet again. Lin's name flashed across your phone and the ticket Pippa promised to get you for the premiere of Hamilton caught your eye – sitting right there on the bedside table. The silver dress you planned to wear to the event was hanging on the door. And then the realization came that you couldn't leave. You had to see this thing through. So there was only one option you could really feel comfortable with: you dialed a number on your phone and through your tears, you managed to get out, “Can we hang out later?”

#reader x lin #reader x lmm #lin manuel imagine #lin miranda imagine #poc reader #it's More Obviously stated here lmao #mywriting #13envelopes

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