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torreshalstead · 8 months

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It Seemed Like a Good Idea - Chapter 15

Summary - Hailey’s US visa was due to expire, which normally wouldn’t be an issue as the CPD would get it renewed but due to a backlog of paperwork, this wasn’t possible. This meant Hailey was faced with the real possibility of having to leave the country, her job and everything she held dear. That was until Jay offered up a solution which would allow her to stay in Chicago, in Intelligence, with him - they could get married. Getting married was a good idea, right?

Chapters - 15/20

Chapter Title - The Sleepover

Notes - this is one of my absolutely favourite chapters so happy reading! AO3 Link

‘So where are we supposed to go?’ Hailey overheard Kim saying when she entered the locker room. The brunette cop was pacing back and forth clearly close to tearing her hair out at whatever the reason for the phone call was. ‘And you can guarantee we can get back in tomorrow evening?’ She huffed, dropping down to the bench with a soft thud.

Hailey hovered in the doorway, her friend was clearly in distress but she wasn’t sure it was her place to intervene - she didn’t know how private a situation she had walked in on.

‘We look forward to your call,’ Kim said sarcastically before hanging up the phone and running a hand through her hair.

‘Everything okay Kim?’ Hailey asked, taking a tentative step into the room.

‘Just my apartment getting fumigated with minimal notice so they need us out for 36 hours,’ Kim explained. ‘Now I’ve got to find somewhere for me and Makayla to stay tonight and we can’t stay with Adam because the muppet managed to flood his apartment two days ago so he’s with Kevin until it dries out. Trudy is in the process of turning her spare room into an AirBnB so there’s no space with her either. A hotel is expensive but it’s looking like our only option,’ Kim rambled off.

‘What about me and Jay?’ Hailey said before thinking. ‘We have a 2 bed so you two are welcome to stay.’

‘I’m sure you don’t want us cramping your newly wed style,’ Kim brushed her off but Hailey shook her head and stood her ground.

‘I’m serious Kim, if you and Mak need a place to stay you can stay with us,’ Hailey smiled warmly. ‘Jay won’t mind.’ She was about 85% sure Jay wouldn’t mind, he wouldn’t want to see his friend and her child turned out onto the street and paying Chicago prices for one night in a hotel on a cops salary wasn’t going to be fun.

‘Are you sure Hailey?’ Kim asked, still clearly unsure.

‘Positive,’ Hailey smiled. ‘We can make it into a sleepover, I’m sure Mak will love it.’

‘Thanks Hails,’ Kim said, a huge grin pulling on her cheeks as she jumped up and pulled the blonde into a tight hug. ‘I appreciate it so much.’

‘You’d do the same for us,’ Hailey wrapped her arms around Kim and squeezed. Now she just needed to break the news to Jay.

——————————————————————————

‘Of course it’s fine,’ Jay shrugged. ‘I’d have offered too if I’d have known.’

‘I know I should have checked with you first,’ Hailey said, apologetically. Jay was reacting exactly the way she had expected, like it would be no big deal to have people in their apartment where they were supposed to live together as man and wife.

‘They are our friends Hails, it’ll be fine,’ Jay said, squeezing her arm. ‘I’ll just kip on the floor in your room. I’d say the couch would be fine but that would be hard to explain if either of them came out and saw me there,’ he chuckled lightly.

‘That was my worry,’ Hailey said, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

‘We managed to act like a couple all day at our wedding and afterparty, we had Mouch and Trudy over and nothing happened, this will be fine too. We can order a pizza and stick on a movie and no one will suspect a thing,’ Jay said, squeezing her arm again and waiting for her to raise her eyes to meet his before he let go.

‘I did say we could turn it into a sleepover,’ Hailey smirked.

‘Then a sleepover we will have,’ Jay winked and Hailey couldn’t help but smile. She also felt a warmth spread through her at the thought of having a sleepover with Jay. She knew it was stupid, he was going to be sleeping on the floor and it wasn’t like she had never fallen asleep with him before.

There’d been a couple of occasions now when she had woken up tucked into his side on the couch with the TV volume turned down low with him scrolling on his phone. He always said he didn’t want to wake her or she looked too comfy to move, but a small part of her wondered if he was also enjoying the newfound closeness they had been experiencing both since they tied the knot and specifically since he had met her mother with her. That night she had slept in his arms for hours and she had felt so safe and if she was honest with herself, so loved. She hadn’t slept that well since.

There had been other nights where they had wished each other goodnight and retreated to their own rooms and a part of Hailey had debated knocking gently on his door and either inviting him into her bed or crawling into his. But she still couldn’t tell if he wanted it. Sometimes she was certain that he wouldn’t shirk her advances but then a voice in the back of her mind would wake up and tell her she was being foolish and why would he feel that way. So she never did. She would simply fall into a less than restful sleep missing the feeling of his arms around her.

——————————————————————————

Makayla bounced through the door when Jay pulled it open. Hailey was standing in the kitchen, she had been trying to put away the rest of the washing up before their guests showed up but that had clearly failed as the dishes still sat cluttered on the drying rack.

‘Thanks for having us,’ Kim said with a shy smile.

‘It’s no problem,’ Jay said, reaching out a hand to take her bag. ‘I’ll pop this in your room and then I think Hailey is going to order some pizza’s if you want to go tell her your favourite,’ he smiled down to Makayla whose excitement was infectious.

Hailey smiled warmly at the interaction between the pair and failed to notice Kim come to stand next to her.

‘He’s good with kids,’ Kim said quietly. Her voice shocked Hailey who jumped and turned to stare at her, she had a grin on her face that Hailey couldn’t quite read.

‘Yeah he is,’ she agreed.

‘Are you guys…’ Kim trailed off and when Hailey looked confused she added, ‘you know…’ raising her eyebrows.

Hailey suddenly realised what her friend was implying, ‘oh no, not at all!’

‘Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ Kim apologised.

‘No, you’re fine,’ Hailey shook her head. She wasn’t offended by Kim’s question but it wasn’t something she had ever considered people may ask now they were married. Hailey wasn’t even sure she wanted kids, and when she was currently in a fake marriage with her best friend who she wasn’t even sure what her real feelings were towards him, it wasn’t something she was even considering. ‘I’ll just be the favourite Aunt,’ she said with a forced smile, ignoring the image that had swam into her mind of a little girl with blonde hair and familiar green eyes being pushed on a swing by a tall figure that she didn’t even need to look at to know who it was.

‘You’re my favourite Aunt!’ Mak said loudly, bounding into the kitchen towards the pair of them.

‘Don’t let Aunt Nicole hear you saying that,’ Kim said with a smirk, running her hand over the young girl's braids.

‘She’s not the one buying pizza!’ The adults both had to laugh at Makayla’s statement.

‘That’s true,’ Hailey winked. ‘Okay so what pizza’s am I ordering then?’

——————————————————————————

‘I’ll just be 30 minutes,’ Kim said, apologising once again as she headed to the door.

‘Kim, I’m sure Hailey and I can keep your kid alive for at least an hour,’ Jay smirked from his position on the couch, he had given Makayla control of the remote so she was focused on scrolling through the movie options.

‘Well you say that now,’ Kim sassed back.

‘We’ve got her, go see your landlord and if you think you’ll be there longer just text us and we can put her to bed if needed, though I think Jay will probably have her so hopped up on sugar so that might be a trickier one,’ Hailey chuckled.

‘It’s not a sleepover without sugar,’ Jay said with a boyish grin.

‘Go Kim, we’ve got it,’ Hailey smiled, opening the front door.

‘Okay, I owe you both,’ Kim said, pulling Hailey into a quick hug. ‘I won’t be long.’

Hailey closed the door behind her and turned back to the pair sitting on the couch. ‘You both going to be alright if I quickly grab a shower?’

‘Of course, I promised this one I’d make popcorn surprise,’ Jay grinned.

‘What’s the surprise?’ Hailey asked curiously.

‘We can’t tell you Auntie Hailey or it wouldn’t be a surprise,’ Makayla said seriously, her little brows furrowed as if how dare she ask.

‘Exactly,’ Jay smirked, adding a wink for good measure. ‘Have a nice shower and we promise to leave you some popcorn.’

‘Popcorn surprise,’ she muttered to herself, smiling as she headed to the bathroom.

——————————————————————————

Hailey took her time in the shower, it had been a long day at work and her shoulders were incredibly tight so the hot jets were providing some welcome relief.

When she finally ventured out, wrapping one of the large white towels around her body, she could hear Jay and Makayla chatting from the living room. Kim was clearly still out talking to her landlord. Hailey wasn’t paying particular attention to what the occupants of the living room were discussing, focusing more on pulling out a pair of comfy sweatpants and oversized tee but then she heard something that made her hesitate and listen.

‘Uncle Jay, can I ask you a question?’

‘Of course,’ Hailey heard Jay say.

‘You and Auntie Hailey are married right?’

‘We are, you were at our wedding, remember?’ Hailey heard a giggle and smirked at the memory of Makayla dancing around in her Elsa dress under the twinkle lights that adorned Molly’s.

‘And you got married because you love each other?’ Hailey’s chest tightened at this and she pulled her towel a little tighter around her as if it was a shield.

‘Yes, that’s normally why people get married,’ Hailey could tell from Jay’s tone that he wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was heading.

‘And being married, does that mean you love her more now?’

‘I guess it does,’ Jay responded softly and Hailey dropped herself onto the edge of the bed. She knew she shouldn’t be listening but she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t block it out now.

‘How?’

‘Well now we are married and we live together, I get to see all the little things about her that I didn’t know I would love, grow into things that I would miss if she ever wasn’t with me again.’

‘Like what?’

‘Quite the interrogation Miss Burgess, your mother would be proud,’ Jay chuckled.

‘Don’t change the subject Uncle Jay, what do you love most about Auntie Hailey?’

‘Well obviously she’s beautiful, but she’s also super smart and super kind. She always puts everyone else’s needs and feelings before her own. Like in the mornings she will always pour my coffee out for me when I’m in the shower so it’s ready when I get out. She always makes sure to put her shoes away because I like things neat and tidy even though she doesn’t really care. So because she’s my wife, I always try to put her first in return, like making sure if she’s cold I give her my sweater, or having her favourite music in my car, or snacks in my bag in case she’s hungry.’ Hailey’s breath caught in her throat. He did do all of those things, she’d never thought about it before now.

‘That’s nice of you.’

‘Well it’s always easy to do nice things for the people you love.’

‘What else do you love about her?’

‘I love how she’s not afraid to be herself, she’s genuine and honest. I love how brave she is. You might not know this about your Auntie Hailey but she is one of the bravest people I’ve met, even though I always want to keep her safe and wrap her in a big hug.’ Hailey wrapped her arms around herself, his words had hit something that she had buried deep within and all of a sudden it wasn’t her own nakedness that was making her feel vulnerable. It was the idea that Jay knew her better than she had ever thought he did, all the things that she thought she had kept under wraps, he knew and understood, and if what he was saying was to be believed, he loved.

‘She gives good hugs,’ Mak said matter of factly and Hailey grinned.

‘She does.’

‘And now she’s your wife, you get to hug and kiss her any time you like.’

‘I do.’ Hailey felt her chest tighten.

‘I want to get married someday.’

‘You do?’

‘I do, and wear a pretty dress like Aunt Hailey did’

‘You can wear a pretty dress anytime you like.’

‘I know, but I also want the big party.’

‘Well that is an important bit.’

‘And if it’s my party then I don’t have to leave early and I can dance all night. Do you and Hailey get to dance together?’

‘We do sometimes, but there’s not always opportunities for dancing when you’re a police officer.’

‘You should dance with her more often Uncle Jay, girls like to dance.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Is Auntie Hailey your best friend?’

‘She is.’

‘Was she your best friend before you got married?’

‘She’s been my best friend for a very long time.’

‘And you’ve always loved her.’

‘For most of that time, yes.’ If Hailey had been holding anything it would have clattered to the floor at his admission.

‘So why did it take you so long to get married?’

‘Well it can take a while to make sure the other person feels the same as you do.’

‘Why didn’t you just tell her you loved her when you felt it?’

‘It’s not always that easy,’

‘Love it the easiest Uncle Jay, you just feel it.’

Hailey had heard enough, she all but ran back into the bathroom, the towel falling to the floor. She stared at herself in the mirror, her wet hair hanging around her face, droplets of water still lingering on her skin. She reached out to trace her lips with her hand but then her eyes zeroed in on the ring on her finger.

She didn’t know what it was about Jay’s words that had hit her so hard tonight, he had just been telling the same story they had told everyone; friends, family, Immigration officials. But it felt different tonight. His words felt so true they had wormed their way under her skin. Maybe it was that he could have brushed off Makayla’s line of questioning and changed the subject. Maybe it was that he could have painted it into a fairytale for the young girl. But he hadn’t. He had spoken from his heart, he didn’t know she had been listening and she was certain he wouldn’t have spoken so openly if he had.

As she looked into the mirror, her blue eyes swimming with tears reflected back at her, she was overwhelmed with emotions. She had been letting herself enjoy the concept of being married, of having Jay as her husband that she had failed to realise something crucial. It wasn’t that she was falling in love with him. She had been in love with him since before this had all started. Maybe it was the thought of losing him that had caused her to spin out so badly when there was a threat she would have to leave the city. Sure she loved Chicago and she loved her job. But she loved Jay more.

And he had all but admitted to Makayla that he loved her back. That he had loved her since before this had happened.

She smiled at the possibility that her feelings were not unrequited, that he would return her affections. But as it always did when her own happiness was at the forefront of her mind, her self-sabotaging tendencies bubbled up. Images of him laughing at her if she admitted how she felt, of telling her it had all been a lie, of telling her he didn’t love her back and he never would.

She let her eyes fall to the ring. Why was love so complicated? Makayla had said it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe it was to a child, but to Hailey, it was anything but.

——————————————————————————

When Hailey finally reappeared from her shower, Jay could sense there was something playing on her mind; she was jumpier when she sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder like he had done many times before. Maybe it was the pressure of having to keep up the act in the privacy of their own home, he guessed it must be weighing on her mind.

She relaxed into him after a short while, her gaze focused on the screen currently playing Moana, courtesy of Makayla, but her eyes seemed glazed over and less than focused.

‘You alright?’ He asked in a soft whisper whilst Makayla was distracted singing along to Your Welcome.

‘Yeah, just tired,’ she responded with a small smile. ‘Kim should be back soon.’

That was clearly he was all he was getting out of her but he tightened his arm around her, just as a reminder that he was there for her and whatever she was thinking, he could share that burden.

Kim returned about 20 minutes later, the conversation with her landlord clearly being lengthier than she had initially thought.

‘She’s been good as gold,’ Jay said cheerily when Kim took a seat on the other end of the couch.

‘How much sugar did you give her?’ Kim asked, wide eyed as her daughter danced around the living room.

‘Jay made his popcorn surprise,’ Hailey chuckled.

‘And what, pray tell, is in popcorn surprise?’ Kim raised an eyebrow.

‘Apparently telling would ruin the surprise,’ Hailey responded and Jay nodded, concealing his grin. ‘But if the boxes in the trash are any indication it involves a lot of candy.’

Kim groaned whilst Jay laughed.

‘Okay, Mak we can watch until the end of the movie but then it’s straight to bed okay?’ Kim said.

‘Okay mom!’ Mak took a pause from the dancing to grin at her mother before throwing her arms above her head and spinning around again.

Jay kept Hailey tucked into his side for the remainder of the movie, she continued to ease up as it progressed and by the scene with Tafiti her hand was resting on his thigh and her head had dropped onto his shoulder. He hoped whatever had been playing on her mind had eased but if she still seemed preoccupied tomorrow he would ask her about it. He had learnt it was best to give Hailey a bit of breathing and processing room before pressing her for explanations to her behaviour. The more you pressed the more she would close herself off and bury whatever was bothering her deeper down.

——————————————————————————

‘You don’t have to sleep on the floor Jay,’ Hailey said quietly when Jay exited the bathroom. The room was lit purely by the singular lamp from Hailey’s nightstand, the blinds had been drawn and blocked out all the remaining light from the Chicago skyline. Hailey was already under the sheets on the near side of the bed, her blonde hair splayed out on the pillow as she lay on her side to look at him.

‘I thought we said it would be weird if I slept on the couch?’ Jay puzzled.

‘I wasn’t suggesting you sleep on the couch,’ Hailey spoke softly. ‘We are both adults, it’s a big bed.’

‘Oh’ Jay realised what she was saying, what she was offering and he suddenly lost the ability to form a coherent thought. ‘Umm..’ he swallowed, ‘if you’re sure?’

‘Of course,’ she said with a gentle smile, ‘but if you kick me I withhold the right to push you out the bed,’ she chuckled and the lightness that was usually between them was back in the air.

‘That sounds fair,’ Jay agreed. ‘And if I tell you I also sleep on the left side?’ He smirked.

‘Then I know you’d be lying,’ Hailey countered, ‘you sleep on the right, or are you forgetting that I’ve seen you in bed?’ Her cheeks flushed as if she realised what she was saying and the moment she was referring to.

‘How could I forget that?’ Jay murmured as he crossed to the other side and drew back the covers. He had replayed the moment that Hailey had woken him up and kissed him more times than was probably sane and definitely more times than he would ever admit to.

He climbed into the bed, getting himself situated and marvelling at how ridiculously comfy Hailey’s mattress was as Hailey switched off the light.

‘Night Jay,’ he heard her say through the darkness.

‘Sweet dreams, Hailey,’ he responded.

Jay stared at the ceiling, listening to Hailey’s breathing and choosing to focus on nothing else for a few moments. He wanted to reach across, to tangle his fingers with hers or pull her back against his chest, bury his face in her hair, pepper her neck with kisses, but he didn’t do any of that. It felt like taking advantage. She had invited him into her bed to sleep, nothing more. Who was to say she wanted him to do any of that anyway, maybe it was all in his head. She was only pretending to feel for him how he felt for her.

He let himself ponder it for a moment until he felt the familiar warmth of Hailey’s hand pressing against his. She linked her fingers with his and he let out a sigh, he hadn’t thought she would reach across and break the invisible barrier but she had and he couldn’t be more grateful.

He let his thumb drag against the back of her hand, aimlessly swirling patterns against her warm skin. It didn’t feel like enough though, he would hold her hand until the end of time if it was all she would allow but he wanted to feel more of her against him. The nights she had let herself fall asleep in his arms, he had never felt more at peace. He had never let himself drift off, stayed awake relishing in the contact and he could never promise he wouldn’t have an unwanted physical reaction either. She didn’t deserve to wake up to that.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one who wanted more though because he felt Hailey twist in the bed from her back to her side, her other hand coming to rest on his bicep - it was now her time to start tracing patterns against his skin. If she could see in the dark he imagined she was connecting all his freckles in a never ending constellation.

His breath hitched as her fingers brushed lightly against his skin and he heard her also intake a sharp breath. He squeezed her hand, hoping he could silently tell her that it was okay and he liked what she was doing. He was terrified if he spoke aloud, he would scare her away. It was like they were both using the comfort of the darkness to edge closer to the line that existed in their relationship.

As he tried to figure out a way to pull her into his arms from this position, she seemed to read his mind. He felt Hailey scoot closer to him, keeping her fingers tangled with him, her other hand moved from his arm and settled on his chest, just over his heart. He let out a shaky breath as her head tentatively rested against his shoulder. She hoped he couldn’t feel how quickly his heart was racing underneath her finger tips.

It still wasn’t enough though, yes she was leaning against him but he still felt like a silent participant. He shifted and briefly dislodged her but before she could pull back he unlinked their hands and used that arm to wrap around her back and remove any remaining space between them. His hand rested on her hip, and his other came up to join the one resting against his chest. He mingled his fingers with hers and kept it pressed against his chest, praying his heart would slow down but he knew with Hailey finally in his arms it was unlikely.

Hailey let her head rest against his chest, tucking herself as close as she could, her legs resting against his so there wasn’t a part of them that wasn’t touching. He couldn’t see her face from here, knew she couldn’t see his but he couldn’t help but smile and hoped she was doing the same.

‘Night Jay,’ she murmured, her voice distorted as her face was pressed against him. That was all he needed to drop a kiss to the top of her head and tighten his arm around her.

‘Goodnight Hails,’ he said, allowing his eyes to close, the smile still tugging on his cheeks. He didn’t know what had made her seek him out this evening, knew they should probably talk about it, their current situation was less than platonic but he didn’t care. The woman he loved was in his arms and that was enough for now.

#upstead #Chicago pd #Hailey upton #Jay Halstead #Hailey x Jay #one Chicago #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fanfic #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fic #chicago pd fic

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palettepainter · 11 months

Note

Who does Caleb get along with other then the band??

I think one of the directors of Muppets Mayhem said that the series wasn’t a follow up to the 2015 series. However I do like a lot of stuff from the 2015 show so a lot of my hc’s for characters outside of the Electric Mayhem for this post are based/inspired by the 2015 series

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin, Newphew (Rowlf’s newphew): Caleb is 16-18 years old, I don’t have a set age for him but I want him to be a young adult. Caleb’s often dubbed a backup babysitter for Kermit and Rowlf when both are busy. He babysits for Newphew the most as the band are frequent regulars at the tavern more so than the rest of the muppets. Caleb likes to chill with Newphew and Robin, he’s happy to binge star wars and listen to Robin ramble about the franchise (even if Caleb forgets half of the characters names)

Piggy: I like the hc of Janice and Piggy being close pals based off that one episode where Janice let Piggy come to her areal contortion class (prolly butchered that spelling). Plus it’s implied in the same show Piggy grew up with a lot of siblings on a farm so I imagine - despite her very five star lifestyle of living - deep down she’s actually pretty unphased by kids and their weirdness. She’s also shown to be super caring of Robin so it’s not much of a stretch to think that if her and Janice are close friends she’s grown fond of Caleb, just a smidge

In the beginning Piggy probably didn’t plan to get attached to Caleb, mostly cuz she didn’t need a Floyd 2.0 tormenting her when one was more then enough….but hey turns out Caleb doesn’t have a single snarky bone in his body and is a lot like Janice, in the sense he’s very laid back, a little obvious but overall well meaning. Caleb in turn thinks his dear old Auntie Piggy is actually really sweet, to Floyd’s utter horror

Sam: So. Sam.

I know there’s a lot of hate against Sam’s crush on Janice in the 2015 show but personally I didn’t have an issue with it. Only thing I didn’t really like was when Janice gave Sam a kiss on the beak, because up until that point Janice showed no interest in him whats so ever (that and she obvs belongs with Floyd the music video Home by the band is literally a Floyd x Janice video-). I think the idea of Sam having a harmless little crush on Janice is interesting, in general Sam having a crush on anybody that’s not a straight laced rule follower like him is interesting to me because I’m a sucker for odd pairings. Janice of course is 120% oblivious to his affections and views Sam as strictly a friend, and Sam is no where near scummy enough to after a women that’s in a relationship (Floyd is suspicious of him but Janice pats his shoulder and reassures him Sam is fine)

Sam prolly learnt of Caleb’s existence randomly when he bumped into Janice who was holding baby Caleb and went “Oh hiii Sam! I was like, totally just getting some orange juice with my son-“ and Sam squawked “Your WHAT?”. Over the years Sam’s crush probably dwindles into just a very strong sense of care for Janice, sort of like a brother/best friend would, and as such since he cares so much for her he’s probably roped into babysitting. Since Caleb is like the only member of the band who doesn’t cuss and actually tries to follow rules Sam has a bit more patience with him like he does with Janice

Rowlf - Rowlf is a very close friend of Teeth’s, practically his best friend outside of the band, so he was one of the first muppets to get to see Caleb when he was an itty bitty baby. Since Caleb also babysits Newphew Caleb is very familiar with Uncle Rowlf, he probably did shifts at the tavern when he was a teen washing glasses and dishes. Caleb isn’t a fan of alcohol so he likes to chill with a milkshake or soft drink at the bar along with Newphew when he comes down to the Tavern, overall they’re quite close

Pepe/Rizzo - I know Pepe at least was the bands road manager in some older series, while I personally like Scooter as their road manager I don’t doubt Pepe and the band have shared drinks together and are good pals. Pepe and Rizzo are the types of Uncles who gave baby Caleb a lemon slice and told him to give it a try, resulting in Caleb bursting out crying at the sour flavour. Caleb…doesn’t like to be mean, but he doesn’t exactly trust Rizzo and Pepe (definitely held a grudge after the lemon slice incident), he keeps the peace with the two out of politeness but is much more cut and dry with them then he is with anyone else in the studio.

#Muppets #Caleb #Muppeys OC #The electric mayhem

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deafmangoes · 1 year

Text

An Album of Christmas Carols - 5

It's time. The one you've all been waiting for. Somehow universally seen as the best adaptation of Dickens' classic.

"A Muppet Christmas Carol" (1992, Michael Caine)

This was the first full-length adaptation of A Christmas Carol that I recall ever watching, and has pretty much been my favourite to rewatch ever since. I was actually so used to this version that the first time I saw a different one I was confused why there weren't two Marleys.

We open with a sweep over London and an introduction to our narrator, Gonzo the Great Charles Dickens, and his friend Rizzo the Rat. From Brooklyn, NYC. The addition of the narrator is a clever touch (and, I suspect, the only way they could think to use Gonzo), and marks this adaptation as the most "book-accurate", according to the BBC (due to the large amount of text quoted directly from the novella).

Michael Caine really epitomises the role for me. Soft-spoken but hard. Trigger temper. Intimidating and heartless. After the opening song, early scenes with Nephew Fred, the charity men, Kermit Cratchit (and the other bookkeepers), he departs home and Cratchit sings a song that gets stuck in my head around this time every damn year.

Ghosts? Ghosts!

Back home, the doorknocker very creatively morphs into (Jacob) Marley's face. I don't know how they did it. Maybe vacuumed it but reversed the footage. We only get a brief bit of the other 'tells' before Jacob (and Robert) Marley appear to heckle their old business partner. Their song is great, probably my favourite part of the film.

"Doomed, Scrooge! You're doomed for all time / Your future is a horror story written by your crimes / Your chains are forged by what you say and do / So have your fun, when life is done a nightmare waits for you!"

Christmas Past looks to me like the thing that comes out of the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones, right before it turns into the angel of death and kills all the Nazis. And because of that, I never feel very comfortable while it's on-screen. Weird childlike angel spirit whatsit.

(In the outtakes, Gonzo manages to get his grappling hook through his own head. The puppeteers play it off wonderfully).

The scenes in the school are hilarious to me, particularly Sam the Eagle's two major jokes:

"Work hard lad, and some day your life will be as solid as this very building!"

/Gonzo and Rizzo break the shelf in the background

"Hrm. I've been meaning to fix that shelf."

And of course:

"You'll love business. It's the American way!"

/Gonzo corrects Sam

"Ah. Hrm. It is the British way!"

Fozziwig's party is shown, where the filmmakers manage to fit in all the other Muppets they'd be hard-pressed to place, like Doctor Teeth's band and the Swedish Chef. Rizzo ends up on fire for the first, but not the last, time this film.

Now, depending on when you were introduced to this film you may or may not realise there's a big emotional award-bait song here after Belle breaks up with Scrooge. It was in the original cut, and the VHS edition, but got cut for broadcast. When DVDs were first printed, the master had been lost so you could only get the version without the song. Apparently it's now back on Disney+ as an extra.

The song isn't all that, to be honest, but without it the reprise later in the film doesn't hit quite right, so... Swings and roundabouts. Past departs, Scrooge is deposited back in bed, just in time for...

... Okay, this might be controversial, but. Christmas Present is the weakest part of the film. The costume is impressive, and made specifically for this film (well, all three ghosts were), and the song is nice, but this version of the ghost just doesn't have the sarcastic bite that I enjoy so much. Even when he does deliver the ironic echo to Scrooge, it sounds out-of-place precisely because he's been nothing but 'nice' up until that point.

Anyway. We get Nephew Fred's party and the Cratchit's Christmas (the second time Rizzo ends up on fire), with the scene-stealing Miss Piggy giving it her all as Emily Cratchit. "It's a chef thing, dear" was a very common refrain around our house when we were eating something out-of-turn.

As Present fades away, Scrooge is left with the tall, ominous Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, who speaks entirely in deep bassoon audio cues. The tone of the film shifts considerably in this segment, so much so they even have Gonzo and Rizzo depart to make it more serious. Old Joe and the others who benefit from Scrooge's death are all creatively shown as vermin and carrion feeders - a spider, a moth, a crow and a bug*.

(*Well, she's described as a potato in Muppet's Treasure Island, but eh).

The Cratchit household sans Tim is a sad place and Scrooge can only bear so much of it before tearfully confronting his own mortality and begging repentance from the mute spirit.

Then, of course, it's Christmas Day! He hasn't missed it! Scrooge engages the services of the caroller seen previously to haul an absolutely massive turkey downtown. In a departure from the book, he stops only briefly at Fred's to deliver presents then goes directly to the Cratchit household, where Miss Piggy violently threatens him. Misunderstandings cleared up, Scrooge helpfully invites half of the entire city of London into this one-up, one-down Camden house and we close out on everyone singing a happy reprise of Belle's "you suck and I'm breaking up with you" song.

Highlights and Humbugs

Despite anything I said above about the film's few flaws, they really are very few and far between. The serious, professional acting of Caine opposite the Muppets is the thing that sells the whole film, and I really wish they'd do more of this sort of classic literary adaptation.

It also holds a special place in the hearts of those who worked on the film - it was the first Muppets outing after Jim Henson, the creator of the original show, had died. The cast were unsure if they should or even could continue without him, though Jim's son, Brian Henson, was encouraged by co-creator Frank Oz to take up the puppets and the result was this masterpiece. Michael Caine has also spoken about this being one of his favourite roles, and how easy it was to forget that he was acting against puppets.

The songs are great. The jokes are funny. The effects hold up. The core of the story shines through. It's just a very good version overall.

10 out of 10 Humbugs. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

#deafmangoes #dickens december #a christmas carol #muppets christmas carol #michael caine #ebenezer scrooge #jacob marley #scrooge

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downydig · 2 years

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Omg tell us about the Rowlf guy Fig……… 🤲 (i ask as someone who knows nothing about Muppets lol)

Okay I’m off work!!! I’ll go into my tangent…

Rowlf was the very first muppet to be introduced to television! He was used in purina dog chow commercials and they were very similar in tone and humor to Henson’s other commercials like Wilkins coffee…

In other words, he was the first muppet to be on tv and be recognized on a national level. He was also featured on the Jimmy Dean Show! The guy with the sausages!

Jim Henson would often ad-lib Rowlf’s lines and make Jimmy Dean laugh right along with the crowd! I have tons of clips of just Jimmy laughing his head off when Rowlf says something hilarious out of nowhere

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And of course Rowlf’s roll in The Muppet Show as the resident pianist/musician aside from the Electric Mayhem. He’d have funny ditties to perform that genuinely were written very well! ‘I’ve Never Harmed an Onion’, ‘What a Wonderful World’, and ‘Cottleston Pie’ are some of my personal favorites. He also has recurring bits where he appears as a doctor and cracks jokes for a few minutes with Piggy and Janice

youtube

He doesn’t get very much exposure since Jim Henson’s passing since many, including Henson himself, felt that Rowlf was the muppet closest to him aside from Kermit. He was difficult to recast but ended up with Bill Barretta who also performs others like Dr Teeth! Whenever he is used now, it’s usually one note, but at least they make all of his lines count

youtube

To make a long post short, he’s a mellow dog with a southern twang and super likable! He’s funny, soft, and memorable despite being a simple dog puppet. All of his lines and jokes were given special care even after Henson was gone, and Rowlf was better for it

He is my favorite muppet by far, I hope you all like him too!

#this post… is long #thank you for letting me spill my beans on this good boy!#the muppets #rowlf the dog #jim henson #Kermit the frog

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH1

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

He was giving you that look. not the look, that look - the one that told you to stop doing what you were doing. It wasn't often that you'd layer it on thick for the press, making sure that you're giggling as you press your hand to his chest. With each flash of a picture you make sure you're striking a different pose. It was hard work being a liar, but it was even harder work without the publicity you gained.

Your Publicist Cheryl or 'cherry' as she begged you to call her, had devised her own scheming plan to generate not only some amazing press for you, a well established quidditch player, but also some well-needed hype and sales for Fred Weasley's shop. After all, it's not every day that London's best quidditch player was dating Infamous Fred Weasley, Gryffindor Star beater and all-in-all stellar man. The plan had been well and truly in action for just over four months, With Fred the main face of the shared brand with his brother George, it felt like the best option according to Cherry.

You were leaning into Fred, answering press questions about the latest win, how you were feeling about the upcoming game and, of course the all too regularly asked update on the relationship. You were 'very happy with a man like Fred', he was smiling down at you, gushing sappily "She may be the best Seeker in the game, but my god is she a keeper." The line made you sick to your stomach, When Cherry had pitched it to you both, you were groaning in disgust, but as she pulled the lollipop from her bright red lips with a pop, staring at you with raised eyebrows, you knew it had to be done.

As the interview began to wrap up, you thanked the photographers and journalists, grabbing Fred's hand and interlocking your fingers with a beaming smile, you made sure the cameras could see, after all the last issue of the Daily Prophet branded it as a 'winning smile'. You were escorted away from the press, once out of sight from them, your hand dropped from Fred's grip. "Well done for not making that so not obviously fake." you quipped at him, going to pull your coat on and check your phone for any messages. He laughed, imitating your voice, "Oh, Fred, you're so handsome, won't you just kiss me right now?" You scoffed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Your phone had three messages when the screen had lit up, your stomach feeling like it had butterflies when you noticed the name.

>> Do I get to see my beautiful girl later?

>> I got your favourite for dinner.

>> I miss your lips already

You felt like the luckiest girl alive in his presence, he made you feel like a princess - a queen even, with every night you spent with him. It all started at Hogwarts for you two, after all, It's not often you get to see the best Slytherin seeker and the Gryffindor star beater together. It really wasn't often because you'd been hiding your relationship for that long. He taught you quidditch skills that got you to where you are today during late, late night practices, often ending with makeout sessions on the grass as you straddled his hips,giggling into the bitter Scottish air.

You fell in love with George Weasley as a teenager, and for 6 years you had kept your relationship a well-guarded secret. Even through the war, you kissed each other goodbye, praying that it was only a see you later. You knew that one day you would marry the gorgeous man you loved so dearly. You tried to persuade Cherry, who had and still has no clue about your true relationship status, for it to be George you had a public relationship with, but she quickly shut the idea down because George was 'too quiet'.

<< I miss you so much Georgie… heading back to the shop with fred now

<< btw I'm staying over tonight, I won't suffer another night without kisses :'((

>> Just kisses? ;)

<< Shut up.

<< I love you xx

>> I Love you too, babygirl xx

>> Daddy can't wait to see you <3

George stood lazily, arms draped over the balcony as he was smiling down at his phone like a muppet. He was so head over heels with you that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. George wasn't mad that you had to fake date his twin, after all, he'd rather it be Fred than some random quidditch man, or worst of all, Krum. He knew and recognised how important it was to your career plus, what good businessman turns down the opportunity to rake in some sales? It hurt to read the papers sometimes, seeing how much attention you both got together, a part of him wished it was he who got to show you off.

When you entered the shop, you caught George's eyes immediately, a bashful smile spread across your face, immediately feeling like a schoolgirl again in his presence. Fred sulked off to his office, leaving you to browse the shop until your driver arrived to take you to team practice. You were browsing the upper back wall of products when you felt his stare on you, he was meters away from you and you ached to draw him in for a kiss. You reached out to him, making the grabby hands that he couldn't resist, he checked over his shoulder, seeing nobody, before waking over to you, he pulled you into a quick and needy kiss by your neck, his other hand finding your hip.

"I'll be home after practice," you mumbled between kisses. It was common for you to travel to his via floo, arriving at the place you truly called home, leaving a vacant and empty flat behind. He shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. "Too long to wait," he laughed softly, his lips pressing to yours again, you were just about to deepen the kiss when you heard Cherry yell out, "Y/N let's go or you'll be late for practice!" You sighed, leaving your boyfriend behind, fingertips being the last thing to separate as you walked away, leaving him dumbfounded.

Practicing with your team was always a long, tough grind, your captain worked you hard and she knew it was all for the best, she was due soon to step down from her duty as captain, leaving the team in your hands, so you felt like you were learning double constantly. The warm water running down your skin made you crave George's touch even more, pushing the thought of Fred's hand on your hip out of your mind completely, you simply couldn't wait.

When you arrived home, George, as promised had your favourite dinner ready for you. He was an amazing chef, using muggle techniques and tools to help create the perfect dishes without the need for magic. You shrugged off your jacket and bag, relaxing into the dining table chair as George brought out your bowl, his hands were massaging your shoulders as you ate, "Aren't you gonna eat, Georgie?" you questioned him, he smirked, "I've been waiting for you to get home so I could have my favourite." George was on his knees, hands reaching up to pull down your leggings, you lifted your hips up, allowing him to drag the material down each of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders,

You knew exactly what he was doing, your hands found his hair and he tutted, breath fanning over your pussy as he looked up at you. "I made your favourite for you, Princess, You always liked it when we eat together." His tongue darted out to lick over your covered slit, feeling you already wet through your underwear, he hummed in appreciation, his teeth pulling the material to the side before attaching his lips to your clit.

Every time he hummed against you, it made you shake, the task of eating dinner becoming more and more strenuous, as you struggled to swallow down the food while he was pulling such sinful moans from you. George's skilled tongue was fucking your cunt, swallowing everything he could like it was the last meal he'd ever eat, and godric did he think you tasted divine, his thumb came up to circle your clit slowly, bringing you closer and closer to the ege.

Thing is with George, he doesn't stop till he's got what he wanted. "Finish your dinner, baby," he smirked, a long finger slowly teasing your entrance, "I'm not finished until you are too." he was a determined man, by your second orgasm you could hardly hold up your fork, but nevertheless you soldiered on, managing to swallow the last piece just before number three hit, your legs were shaking and you were moaning incoherent sentences. That was possibly the best meal of your life, your weak legs could hardly hold you up when you tried to stand.

George pulled you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed where he found your favourite shirt of his, helping you change into it, he left to make you a cup of tea, bringing it into the bedroom for you. sitting contently beside each other.

George's phone buzzed on the side, he read the message from fred. Laughing before showing it to you, the irony all too funny for him to resist.

>> George, if only you had to do this… Fancy swapping places at the product launch on Saturday?

<< Love to, but I'm not sure that's how the whole twin thing works.

>> With an ass like hers, I don't mind it too much… shame, she seems like your type.

The last text from him made george both laugh and be angry at him sexualising his girl. You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your boyfriend’s jaw before taking a sip of your tea, "He doesn't know George."

He hums a little bit before typing a reply.

<< It really is a shame, she does have a nice ass.

You scoff, rolling your eyes - Men.

///TO BE CONTINUED/// Chapter Two >>>>>

Taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #george weasley fic #harry potter #mutuals innit #weasley twins #fred weasley #harry potter fic #fred weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #harry potter smut #harry potter writing #Fake It Fic

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

#18 for Coops??🥰

Three different people asked for this prompt and I am happy to oblige. Hope you enjoy! Credit for Coops and the OCs goes to @lumosinlove

Prompt 18: “Can I sit in your lap?”

Dumo’s living room was unusually quiet. Kasey was fast asleep on the couch with his head in Natalie’s lap as she scrolled through her phone; on the carpet below them, the cubs had fallen asleep beneath a pile of kids. Remus smiled as Katie cuddled up against Leo’s broad chest. Lily and James had left hours earlier because Harry had a case of the sniffles that they simply had to be home for.

Celeste’s birthday party was the ultimate holiday, if Remus was being honest. Each group brought a dish for dinner as a gift and Celeste made a booklet of each recipe to add to her collection. My gift is seeing you all and sharing your food, she said every time someone tried to protest. This family is all I need.

She and Dumo were slow-dancing in the kitchen to the soft sound of the radio—Remus heard snippets of laughter and low French singing every few minutes. His life was chaotic and messy sometimes, but moments like this made it worthwhile tenfold.

“Bonjour.” The back of his armchair dipped as Sirius leaned over it.

Remus tilted his head back with a smile, accepting a quick kiss. “Hey, handsome.”

“I have a present for you.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“What, you don’t want it?” Sirius held up a butterscotch cookie. “C’est dommage.”

“Ooh, gimme.” Remus craned his neck back further and opened his mouth; Sirius snorted, but stuck the cookie between his teeth. “Mmm, tank ya.”

“You’re welcome. Are we the last ones up?”

“Nat hasn’t looked up in twenty minutes and Olli’s been snoring for five, so pretty much.” Remus bit off a piece of his cookie and groaned. “Lily has to give me her recipe next time.”

“Baby, you don’t bake.”

“I will learn to make these.”

Sirius hummed and kissed his forehead, then his nose. “Can I sit on your lap?”

“ ‘course.” Remus straightened up and patted his thighs. “Much cozier than the floor.”

Sirius settled down with a slow sigh, slinging his legs over one of the armrests. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” No matter how many times they said it, hearing him say those words never failed to thrill Remus. Sirius pulled another cookie out of his hoodie pocket and started munching away. “Hey, Cookie Monster, you’re getting crumbs on my legs.”

“…Cookie Monster?”

“Yeah, you know, the Sesame Street character?” Remus frowned. “Shit, you didn’t watch cartoons as a kid. Remember the Muppets?”

“From the Christmas movie with the jellybean rat?”

“Exactly. Cookie Monster is basically a huge blue Muppet who’s always going—” Remus lowered his voice and flapped his hands around in Sirius’ face. “Grrr, cookies!”

“Very impressive,” Sirius laughed.

“Thank you, thank you. Do I get a prize?”

He leaned in, closing the short distance between their lips for one, two, three kisses. He tasted like butterscotch and home. Remus hummed and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. “Am I crushing you?” Sirius asked quietly.

“Never.” How is he always so warm? Remus was sure the two of them could be stuck in the Arctic and Sirius would still be a happy little space heater. Talker mumbled something in his sleep from where he was sprawled in front of the fireplace and Remus had to tuck his face into Sirius’ shoulder to muffle his snickering. “Sorry.”

A trail of feather-light kisses made their way from his ear to the junction of his neck and shoulder, where Remus could feel him smiling against his skin. “I love hearing you laugh.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. It’s like there’s a little hiccup before you start. Very cute.” Sirius bit down gently and Remus flicked him on the arm.

“Easy, tiger, Dumo and Celeste are a room away and we’re surrounded by our teammates. I don’t think Nat’s looking for a show tonight.” Despite his teasing, Remus angled his chin to give him room to work.

Natalie didn’t even glance up at them. “By all means carry on. I’m not sacrificing precious Instagram time to be pervy.”

“Thanks for the support. The gay community owes you so much.”

“Look out Lady Gaga, a new bi queen is coming for your title.”

“Hey,” Sirius said, working his way back up his neck and ending with a kiss to each eyelid. “Wanna head home?”

Remus turned on his saddest puppy eyes. “But my lap will get cold.”

“Not for long,” Sirius shot back with a cheeky wink. “I’ll say our goodbyes if you want to get the car running.”

“Hell yes, scoot over. Oh, and make sure you grab me some cookies for the road.”

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monochromemedic · 3 years

Text

Ashy Slashy

“What is that Ash?” “A long story, look for some reason that damn sky spider took all my hands and left me with this. Luckily it works... somehow.” He huffed raising the felt puppet on his hand and moving it’s mouth open and closed. “Listen if it starts saying shit, it ain’t me and you gotta cut this thing off pronto, you got me?” I stared into the black button eyes of the muppet, noticing how it was modeled directly after the man holding it. “So... it’s alive?” “Deadite, but I don’t know if those things are ‘alive’. Frankly I don’t give a shit, they all should be dead but the world ain’t perfect.” He grumbled twisting his hand towards himself to look the creature in the eyes. “You hear me? You should be dead buddy.” Silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I tried to picture what exactly this thing could do that was dangerous. With all the stories Ash told, even the most mundane things could become dangerous when possessed by Evil. But those things usually transformed or had a dangerous quality to them already, some supernatural strength or claws and fangs. Unless this thing would suddenly grown bones, it’d have to be a rather weak demon wouldn’t it? Then again, that’s usually how these things work, they’d prey on your naive nature, your fears, every weakness you had, that was the deadites strength. The night seemed to carry on without much trouble. Not a single sound from the puppet’s mouth despite the glares, insults and abuse from Ash to try to get it to talk. It was obvious he was paranoid, then again why wouldn’t he be. A deadite on your hand that you had to have or else be left without a limb. Sure he could have taken it off but having to be ready to run off into the fog at a moments notice to fight for your life was probably a good reason to take a risk, that or he couldn’t.... A few times I saw him walk off to the darkness, out of the light of the campfire to pull and yank at the puppet to no avail. He’d eventually sigh and go to the bathroom or return to the soft bustle of activity, acting like nothing had happened. As the ‘night’ carried on people began to settle in, grabbing their sleeping bags, ripped up mattresses or walking off into wherever the campfire had put us to find a place to sleep. Usually it was somewhere with enough stray objects to entertain ourselves, or something we could call our own private area at least until the campfire moved us to another campfire in another realm. I grabbed my blankets and pillows, settling down besides Ash’s stained mattress for the night. Ash’s chest rose and fell in monotonous motions, his face caught in a strange scene of peace. I smiled, beginning to close my eyes only to catch the shape of the puppet staring directly at me. A wave of discomfort flooded my senses and my brows knitted anxiously. He couldn’t be alive. Ash was trying all day to get him to speak, and deadites usually break a few minutes in. I just had to relax, I was just getting paranoid. “You got a staring problem toots?” My eyes shot back towards the puppet, it’s head now tilted at an angle it wasn’t at before. Oh god Ash wasn’t crazy... “Well? I know I’m the most handsome guy around but unfortunately I’m not into fatties. But if I turn my head now maybe I can make it work...” He spoke, his pacman mouth opening and closing with every word. I’d feel insulted, well I did, but if what Ash said as true and he was a Deadite they preyed on the weakness of others. “Why are you speaking now? You didn’t seem to speak to Ash all day.” I hissed, remembering Ash’s words to kill it as soon as it talked. As much as I’d love to tak his word, if what I saw was true Ash couldn’t get him off, and so I’d have to make a bit of a scene to try. And what to pry him off with was another question I didn’t have the answers to at the moment. “Like I could speak to him, not since what happened last time. It was like a bad break up, real messy.” The puppet smacked his chainsaw hand against Ash’s nose, moving the real Ash’s arm in the process. How the hell did he do that? How much control did he have over Ash? “So you gonna take me up on the deal? I’ve had to hold this guy’s dick in my mouth when he pissed, a guy could use a little stress relief. A motorboat would really get my motor running~” The puppet shook his head, making a loud motor boating sound as it lurched forward. I quickly grabbed it’s head and pushed it back, alarmed by how fast this thing could move. “Get the hell away from me you creep, you should be lucky I haven’t killed you by now.” “You really gonna listen to Ash’s tall tales. He’s probably going through dementia, he can’t remember what he had for breakfast. However, I know alot.” I raised a brow, sitting up from my collections of blankets and pillows. “What are you on about?” “I got a direct line to Ash’s twisted mind. Every and any dark secret you ever wanted to know from the man, I could give you for a low price.” “...Any secret?” “Any. Secret. And oh boy does this guy keep em. First kiss, most embarrassing moment, what he’s packing... it’s all yours. All we gotta do is make a deal.” I turned away from the deadite, reaching for my glasses to hopefully find something to pry this guy off. “Sorry but I don’t make deals with demons. Those are Ash’s secrets. If he wants to tell me them, he can of his own free will. Also you could just lie or kill me before telling me anything so.” I moved towards the fire, picking up a nearby stick and lightening the end in fire before returning to the deadite, my hand wrapping around it’s neck tightly. The puppet began to squirm, arms wiggling in panic as the burning wood approached Ash’s arm. “Okay, Okay no deal, I’ll tell you straight up just let me stay on his nub! Don’t you wanna know how he feels about you?” Ashy Slashy squealed, desperation in every movement he could muster. I felt my hand pause, eyes shifting over to the sleeping figure just a few inches away. “He thinks you’re a pathetic little BITCH!” The muppet roared, it’s eyes now white, mouth full of razor sharp teeth. The creature managed to move it’s head in just the right position to sink it’s fangs into my hand causing me to yelp and jerk my hand away in pain. It didn’t let go, and pulled the still sleeping Ash along with him. Was he just a heavy sleeper or was it something unnatural, a forced sleeping state that Ashy Slashy put on him? My eyes darted around the area, at the lack of survivors around us except for Jeff a few feet away. Damn it why was he a heavy sleeper? “Ash wake up! Ash!” “Too late babycakes, his body is all mine. Been working my way to his noggin all day~” The body jerked and with a sudden jolting movement Ash sat up, his head slowly turning to face me despite his closed eyes. No way, was Ash really gone? No... no that couldn’t be, Ash survived hell and back, no way a stupid felt puppet was the one to do him in. The real Ash’s other arm shot out, gripping my shirt to pull me closer to his body. Ash could easy over power me, one hand or not. I still had a chance, I still had the stick. But where to aim? If the puppet really did have full control over Ash, would trying to jolt him awake by burning him do anything? I gripped the stick hard, using all my strength to pierce the puppet’s eye with the burning wood. A spurt of blood erupted from the socket, staining the felt and earning a scream from the bastard. A scream that lasting just long enough for it’s teeth to dislodge from my hand. I yanked the stick from the creature and began to scramble for Jeff, managing to grab the edge of his sleeping bag just as Ash’s arm wrapped around my leg, yanking me towards the fire pit. “You dumb whore, I was gonna go easy on you!” Ashy hissed, pushing my bare foot into the embers of the pit, causing a scream to rip from my chest. “Mmm, flame broiled bitch. My favorite!” The pain was intense and every second longer my foot stayed in the fire, the more I could feel the nerve endings begin to die, the smell of burning flesh filling the air around us. I gasped and pushed down the bile that began to form the more I thought about what was happening, trying to focus on the situation. I could do this, I just needed to wake Jeff up. I jabbed the stick into Jeff’s leg, twisting and digging the wood until it splintered under my strength. Jeff may have been a heavy sleeper, but even he wasn’t immune to being stabbed awake. His head rose sharply, nose scrunched in anger, ready to angrily bark at whoever caused him to wake, only to catch sight of the scene unfolding in front of him. “Jeff! Get the puppet off of Ash!” His eyes darted to Slashy, it’s head tilting at the new player in the game. “You really think homeless Jesus is gonna help you? You just made this one course meal a buffet! Jeff didn’t question me for a second, lurching forward and yanking with all his might at the creatures base. A loud, wet, ripping sound filled the air, one that seemed to grow in volume before being silenced by a clothesline strike from Ash, knocking Jeff to the ground. We laid in awe of the sight before us, crawling away from the lumbering figure that stood before us. Ash’s arm was soaked in rotten blood, blood not from himself but from the creature sitting atop his mutilated wrist. Where a clean cut should have been was instead tendons, ripped and torn connecting fabric to flesh. The muscles began to stretch, as Ashy rose, a mess of muscles raising it further from Ash’s arm like a cobra ready to strike. The small chainsaw began to rev, before Slashy lurched towards Jeff, the umbilical cord snapping with such force a splatter of crimson painted the grass around us. Jeff’s raised hand was no protection from the saw, cutting into his palm with ease. If it wasn’t so tiny, it could have easily cut straight though the shield and into the skull of the survivor. Jeff cried in pain but tried his best to latch on to the puppet, following the only instructions he was given. I knew I had to help, despite the numbing pain in my foot, despite the horror pounding in my chest. We were getting somewhere, we could save Ash. I pushed myself upwards, rushing and slamming my weight against the slumbering chosen one. I felt his body follow through, our body’s falling against the mattress in a spray of blood and stray tendons. I heard the deadite scream in agony, screaming expletives before increasing in volume as Jeff threw it into the firepit, a surge of light erupting from the pit for the new kindling it had received. For a moment all was quiet. No screams, no sounds of movement. Only the sounds of ragged breaths and the roar of a well fed fire. My fingers clawed at Ash’s shirt, my nose brushing against his jawline as I begged for him to wake up. “Ash... Ashley? Ash, please wake up, come on...” I gritted my teeth, tears beginning to prick the edges of my eyes as I began to fear for the worse. “Wake up you old bastard!” I slapped his cheek, fingers leaving fresh lines of blood along his skin. The shock of pain seemed to do the trick as he groaned in pain, eyes snapping open. “Hng! Huh? What? What are you doing...on me...” His voice trailed off as he saw the gore in front of him, the man nursing his wound a few feet away, the bloodied clothes of the people around him. He cautiously raised his hand, seeing the puppet was no longer in his place but instead was place in the fire, the only trail of it was the strange muscly appendage that decorated the ground, leading it’s way back to Ash. “I knew that creep was up to something... I shouldn’t have gone to sleep.” Ash muttered, a tinge of regret lingering with every word. True regret for what had happened as if he had some control over the situation. I felt his arms wrap around me, his big hand beginning to rub circles to try to give some comfort to the horrifying situation. “He had you move... You weren’t waking up, I thought you... “ “Shh, hey... I wouldn’t go out like that are you kidding me? I ain’t going out to a muppet rip off.” I shuttered against him, burying my face into his chest to hide the hot wet tears that began to fall with every shaky breath. He didn’t seem to judge, knowing the fear of losing loved ones all too well.

#dbd ash #dbd jeff #tw gore #no i will not check my writing you take it

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 3 years

Text

A Muppet Family Christmas

Day 13 of 2018′s 31 Days of Christmas. Note: new for 2020. Credited as 2018 for organizational purposes, & back-filling the prompt.

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the prompt list!

Prompt: Holiday movies

Rating: T (sexual themes, alcohol)

Pairing: TenxRose (AU)

Summary: Despite being mid-January James and Rose have a Christmas-movie watching date, and open up about old grief amidst being childish with the Muppets and Mario Kart. Part of the Cosier With You ‘verse.

2018 31 Days of Ficmas Masterlist | Cosier With You ‘Verse

AO3

---

With a final swipe of gloss across her lips, Rose returned the lipstick to her purse, fluffed her hair, and knocked on the door.

“It’s open!”

Pushing the door open, she grinned at the sight that greeted her. Hair still obviously wet from the shower, her boyfriend of three weeks (and counting!) stood on the far side of his kitchen island, preoccupied with a popcorn popper that was spitting out perfectly popped corn. “Hey!” he greeted her warmly, as she dumped her stuff and came around to his side. “Missed you.”

“I saw you this morning,” she laughed, kissing him hello. “Mm, you taste like butter.”

“I had to make sure it was good,” James shrugged, gesturing to the half-full bowl catching the freshly popped corn. “Only the best for you. And yes, but we were at your place of work, surrounded by people. I much prefer when we’re alone.”

“So do I.” Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his bicep. “Remind me why we’re watching Christmas movies in mid-January?”

James eased out of her arms as the popper wound down, dumping the last of the kernels into the bowl before switching the machine off. “Because I don’t want to wait a year to curl up with you and popcorn and watch cheesy Christmas-themed movies with you.” He nodded towards a bottle of white wine and two glasses on the counter, still chilled from the fridge, waiting for Rose to grab them before guiding her to the couch, which was already prepared for the evening.

Two soft, fleece-lined blankets stood at the ready, along with the pillows from his bed. A stack of DVDs sat on the coffee table, two drink coasters optimally positioned, and to complete the Christmas-y vibe, all the decorations, including the tree, were still up.

“So, for future reference, do you typically leave the tree up this long?” she asked, plopping down roughly in the middle of the couch and pulling out the pre-popped cork. “‘Cause I’ve gotta be honest, mine’s been down since the third, and this might be a sticking point in the future.”

He laughed, settling next to her and reaching for his glass. “No, but… I’m not ready to take it down yet, this year. I’m afraid…”

“What?” She took her own glass, leaning back into the cushions and giving him her full attention.

“I’m afraid that this- what we have- is a function of Christmas magic, and if I remove the decorations…” he trailed off, ears flushing. “Point is, I’m not taking any chances on this.”

Rose grinned, blushing herself, and wiggled closer. “I’m not going to disappear if you take your tree down,” she promised. “And I’m mostly teasing you – it’s sort of nice, it still being up. Not sure I’d say the same if I was living- with one still up,” she faltered, and they shared a smile at what was unsaid- “but… yeah. I wouldn’t want to jinx us either. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

“Me too.” He leaned forward, and they met in the middle in a kiss that tasted of salt from the popcorn, tart from the wine, and sweet from what she was learning was just him. “Mhmm, you’re too tempting,” he accused without heat when he pulled back for breath. “This isn’t why I asked you over.”

“All right, all right,” she resettled herself with a laugh. “Fine, we can Netflix then Chill, if that’s what you really want.”

His ears and neck turned a delightful shade of scarlet, and he all but lunged for the stack of DVDs, voice squeaking as he said, “So! What shall we start with?”

Leaning in again she rested her cheek against his shoulder as they shuffled through the selection, and it took everything she had not to scoff at the final option, managing a neutral tone to say, “A Muppet Family Christmas?”

James stilled beside her, and she was glad she hadn’t laughed when a distant expression flashed across his face. “It was my dad’s favorite Christmas movie,” he said, hesitantly. “Mum hated it, but tolerated it when we were old enough to watch it. It became our thing, me Donna and Dad’s. She and I still watch it together every year.”

“Oh.” Rose tried to marshal her thoughts, recognizing that he was letting her in on something special, wondering distantly if it was some sort of test. “I’ve never actually seen it.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Slightly before my time. I know who the Muppets are, of course, saw the Christmas Carol one, but… not this.”

He was silent for a moment, picking at the corner of the box. “D’you wanna?”

“Yes.” She surprised them both with the strength of her response, based on how James’ head flew up to blink at her. “Sounds like this might be the closest I get to meeting your Dad, so- let’s do it.”

His blinding smile told her it was absolutely the right answer.

By the end of the movie they were snuggled together, singing along at the top of their lungs to the final song, even as it trailed off to the credits.

“-And a happy new year!” they finished, before breaking into peals of laughter.

“Oh, I loved it,” Rose proclaimed, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen that – it’s adorable!”

Beside her, James made a happy noise, pressing his face into her bicep. “Really?”

Wriggling around, Rose waited until she could meet his eye to respond. “Really,” she said firmly. “There’s something special about it. And more importantly, it’s special to you. So it’s special to me. Thank you for sharing this bit of yourself with me.” No words could express how honored she felt, that he was comfortable sharing something so personal with her. It made her a little wistful for her own father; while both men were gone, James had at least grown up with his father, known him in person- Rose had been a baby when Pete died.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” James’ concerned tone dragged her out of the spiral of her thoughts, and she looked up at him when he brushed at her cheek. “You’re crying.”

She bit her lip. “I was just thinking about my own dad,” she said truthfully. “I’d give anything to share something like this with him. Or, anything, really. I was six months when he- when we lost him. I mean, on bank holidays Mum and I watch old Cliff Richards movies, but… it’s not quite the same as this.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a… a sad memory for you.” His soulful chocolate eyes felt like they could see into her very heart, and she pushed down the ever-present but background grief.

“It’s okay. Sometimes it hits me in the weirdest moments. And I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet your Dad – he sounds wonderful, based on your stories.” Then she bolted upright, as a memory surfaced. “Holy shit – I think I did meet your dad! Three Christmases ago, the first couple months you were coming in – we didn’t have much of a relationship then, but I still clocked you every time, ‘cause you’re so bloody cute, and I remember you came in a few days before Christmas with an older man! You’d been out shopping, and blimey, he looked just like you!”

James was silent for a long moment, before exhaling. “Blimey, I think you’re right. I’d forgotten – I was sweet on your even then, and I think he noticed, ‘cause he kept teasing me. I never took him back, for fear of him embarrassing me. But… yeah, there you go. You did meet him. And he liked you, much as he could in thirty seconds. Kept egging me to ask you out, and I brushed him off. If only I’d listened to him…”

They sat with that, imaging what could have been, before Rose clapped her hands. “No, we are not going down that rabbit hole. Let’s be grateful that we got there, and we’re here now. Trust me, I spent my entire life pretending not to notice how my mum had one foot stuck in the could-have-beens. Better not to start down that path.” She reached for the bottle of wine, but it was empty. “What d’you say we go do some stargazing?”

“Or…” he drawled, raising an eyebrow, “we could continue on our childish theme and play Mario Kart.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

By the third race their maudlin musings had been all but forgotten, as they battled it out for first place with taunts and good-natured ribbing, giving no quarter and playing as though their lives depended on it – complete with over-dramatic victory dances and cheering.

“Oh, come on!” James protested, as Rose eked out a second win by a breath. “You’re cheating!”

“Am not,” she denied, settling back on the couch after a final celebratory kick. “Novice, remember? Beginner’s luck?”

He grumbled, turning to look at her. “Care to make it more interesting?”

“How so?”

“Winner takes a shot, loser loses an item of clothing?”

Rose laughed, shaking her head. “You want to turn strip-racing into a drinking game?” Leaning back, she considered her outfit and his, then the empty bottle of wine. “What d’you got for shots?”

A rifle through the fridge produced a cold bottle of peppermint schnapps, “In keeping with the Christmas theme,” he declared, setting it on the coffee table along with two shot glasses. “Hope you’re thirsty.”

Shaking her head, Rose folded her legs beneath her. “You do know I’m a sure thing, right?” she teased, choosing the next track in the game. “You don’t need to get me drunk, or strip to get me interested.”

“Someone’s confident in themself, aren’t they?” he leered. “Better watch out – who knows what the promise of getting you in your knickers will do to my ability in the game?”

“Not a thing,” she shot back, catching her tongue between her teeth. “Because there’s no where you’re getting me in my knickers.” She started the race, laughing at his outraged yelp.

“We’ll see.”

The light turned green and they took off, and Rose waited until they were near the end and he was slightly ahead to say, “I’d have to be wearing knickers for you to see me in them.” As predicted he startled, going so far as to drop his controller, and with a laugh, she sped across the finish line for her third win in a row. As her character (Princess Peach, natch) was crowned, she turned to watch him splutter, eyes wide.

Finally, he just pointed, making a wheezing sound. “You…”

She took her shot first, nearly coughing at the overwhelming peppermint flavor, before turning her whole body to him. “Strip, loser,” she ordered with a smirk. “And, in case you don’t believe me…” Brave off the half-bottle of wine and the shot, she lifted her leg to splay it along the back of the sofa, confirming for him that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her skirt. Laughing at the awestruck look on his face she returned to facing the telly, tucking her knees primly together. “I held up my end of the bargain…”

Coming back to life, he shook his head in disgust. “You’re not playing fair.” He whipped his shirt off, revealing his lovely muscular chest, and her knees squeezed together just a bit tighter.

“Well, lose quicker then, so we can go to bed.”

He didn’t win a single race after that, but an hour later, flat on his back on his living room floor wearing only a single sock, with a sticky and sweaty Rose collapsed on his chest, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I love Christmas.”

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #31 Days of Ficmas #31 Days of Ficmas 2018 #ficandchips #Doctor Who #TenxRose #Tenth Doctor #Human!Ten #Rose Tyler #A Muppet Family Christmas #holiday movies #Cosier With You Universe

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softlass27 · 4 years

Note

❛❛ so … do i get a goodnight kiss? ❜❜

Here we are, anon!

ao3 link here

“I’m dying.”

Despite the misery of the current situation, Aaron’s mouth twitched. “You’re not dying."

“I am.” Robert rested his head on the edge of the toilet seat and squeezed his eyes shut. “There’s no way I can feel this bad and still be alive. This is worse than the carbon monoxide pois – ”

Aaron winced when Robert was cut off by another wave of nausea and lurched forwards to throw up again, practically burying his head in the toilet as he choked and heaved.

They’d been sat on the floor on their ensuite for a good hour now, Robert hunched over the toilet bowl and Aaron crouched behind him, rubbing his back and sweeping hair away from his face. His knees were killing him, but he didn’t have the right to complain, he wasn’t the one with food poisoning.

Robert gasped for breath and let out a long groan, which echoed loudly in the bathroom.

“This is fucking awful.”

“Just let it out,” Aaron murmured soothingly, rubbing a hand up and down Robert’s clammy arm. He tried very hard not to listen to the sound of vomit hitting the bowl.

“God, please jus’ make it stop.” Robert knuckles were clutching the sides so tightly they’d turned white.

“I’m sorry, I would if I could. But it can’t be much longer now – I don’t think there can be anything left.”

When that round had finally subsided, Robert shakily pushed himself up, spitting once more into the bowl and wiping his mouth.

“C’mere,” Aaron reached to pull Robert away from the toilet and let him sag his chest, stroking the back of his neck with his thumb. “I’ve got you.”

From his position under Aaron’s chin, Robert let out a whine that might have been funny if it wasn’t so pitiful.

“I’m never, ever eating at the Woolpack when fuckin’… fuckin’ Luke Posner is on shift again,” he mumbled, his voice raspy.

“Okay.” Aaron couldn’t blame him; he was beyond glad he’d gone for the risotto instead of the chicken.

“I don’ care if he’s dating my sister; tell your mum I want him fired.”

“Think she’ll be glad of the excuse if I’m honest, he’s bloody useless.”

“An’ – an’ if she doesn’t, I’m gettin’ a shovel.”

“It is… way too soon to joke about that.”

“M’not joking, I – ow.” Robert cut himself off when a particularly severe cramp hit him, curling in on himself and fisting a hand in Aaron’s t-shirt.

Aaron removed his hand from Robert’s neck to gently stroke small circles on his stomach.

“Fuck me, this hurts.”

“I know,” Aaron said against his temple.

When the cramp passed, they sat in silence for a few moments. Robert tugged his sweat-soaked t-shirt away from his skin, grimacing as he did so.

“I feel disgusting.”

“Well, you’ve looked worse.”

“Wow. Thanks for that.”

“Sorry, I dunno why I thought that’d make you feel better.”

Whatever retort Robert was about to offer was lost when he pulled a face and scrambled for the toilet. Aaron barely had enough time to release him and help him get there before he was retching painfully once again.

After another hour dragged by, Aaron checked his phone and noticed that Robert hadn’t thrown up for a good fifteen minutes. He nudged him softly.

“Rob?”

Robert hummed from where he was dozing on Aaron’s shoulder.

“You’ve not been sick for a while now, how’re you feelin’?”

“Like shit.”

“But not dying anymore?”

“I guess not… ”

“You think you could come back to bed? Try and get some rest?”

Robert slowly pulled himself up, scrubbing a hand over his bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t wanna risk it. You go back though, m’fine here.”

“Don’t be daft, I’m staying if you are. But I really think you should try and get some proper sleep; we can always put a bucket by the bed just incase.”

Robert sighed, before nodding slightly. “I need to clean my teeth, though, feels like something died in my mouth.”

Aaron pressed a kiss to his forehead and slowly pulled him up to stand and lean against the sink.

“Toothbrush and toothpaste, mouthwash, wet flannel, glass of water.” He gestured to the items he’d pulled out at some point during their first hour in the ensuite, ready for when Robert would need them. “You get yourself sorted, I’ll fetch you a bucket and some fresh pjs, alright?”

“Can I have some of yours?”

“Course you can. I won’t be long.”

Aaron nipped downstairs and grabbed a bucket from where they kept the cleaning supplies, before returning to the bedroom and pulling out the most threadbare – and therefore softest – set of pyjamas he owned.

Robert stumbled out of the bathroom, flicking off the light as he went. He looked well and truly done in, but his face had a little more colour in it after he’d given it a wash.

“Arms up.” Aaron peeled Robert’s sticky t-shirt over his head and his bottoms down his legs, throwing them in the direction of the laundry basket with a grimace. Robert was entirely pliant in Aaron’s arms as he helped him into his fresh pyjamas and steered him towards the bed.

“Well, you make this a lot easier than Seb does.”

“Oh shit, Seb,” said Robert, looking dismayed. “Do you think he heard?”

“Eh, I doubt it, but I’ll check on him just incase,” said Aaron as he pulled the quilt over him. “Right, water’s on the table, bucket’s on the floor next to you, anything else you need?”

“Well I’ve given my teeth a good brush so… do I get a goodnight kiss?” Robert titled his head up, a doe-eyed look on his face.

“Oh, Rob... ” Aaron smiled and sat down next to him, raking a hand through his hair. "There is no way my mouth is going anywhere near yours right now. Not a chance in hell.” He snorted at Robert’s offended expression.

“I will give you one on the cheek though.” And he did, pressing a soft peck to the side of his face. It seemed to do the trick, Robert’s frown replaced with a pleased smile.

“Jimmy texted earlier.” Aaron held his phone up.

“Mm?”

“Yeah, apparently Nicola’s sick as a dog, too. She had the chicken as well, so it definitely must’ve been that. He asked after you.”

“Fucking Luke,” Robert grumbled.

“At least we know it wasn’t personal, eh?”

“No, he tried to poison me. I’m gonna sue him. Him and his psycho mum.”

“Okay.”

“That witch probably had something to do with it.”

“Okay.”

“Stop patronising me.”

“Okay.” Aaron stood up and held in a laugh when Robert shot him a glare.

“I’ll just go check on Seb then I’ll come to bed, alright? I’ll even let you be the little spoon.”

“Hmm, lucky me.” Robert snuggled down further into the pillows. “Aaron?” He called out just before Aaron left the room.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks… for lookin’ after me.” He looked slightly bashful all of a sudden.

“You don’t have to thank me, you muppet. You’re my husband, it’s my job. It’s literally in our vows, ‘sickness and health’, and all that.”

“I know, just… still not used to it, sometimes,” Robert mumbled, eyes beginning to flutter.

And God, if that didn’t make Aaron feel things that it was too late at night for him to really dwell on.

“Just close your eyes, I’ll be back soon.”

By the time Aaron returned from checking on Seb (as he’d suspected, their son had slept through the whole thing, oblivious to the noise that had been coming from their room), Robert was already fast asleep.

#warning: mention of the posners (ง •̀_•́)ง #my writing #ask #robron

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j-hawthorn · 3 years

Text

Books and Bubble Baths: Chapter 3

(Find this chapter and my other work on AO3 here! )

It was so easy for Crowley to sow little seeds of evil in the world. And the fact they were able to do so while getting breakfast for their angel was an added bonus. They held an impeccably wrapped package in their arms – a package they had forced the shop staff wrap, then pull apart only to wrap again until it was perfect. It had to be, Crowley wouldn’t allow a half-arsed gift for their angel. You don’t get shown that GOOD of a time and NOT at least buy the person some pastries!

They’d woken up a tangled mess. Arms and legs and huge wings splayed and curled together with their angel. They’d never done that – woken up with the heat of another person. They also hadn’t seen their angel sleep in...forever. Crowley had stayed with him, watching the rise and fall of his soft tummy, his arms curled to his chest. His cheek had smushed against Crowley’s shoulder, giving him an off centre pout.

Crowley eventually crawled out of the bed, legs wobbling. Naked and still fizzing from the night before, they’d snuck into the ensuite. They showered, stole some of Angel’s perfume and examined themself in the mirror. They hadn’t looked any different. Part of them had wondered if there would be something new about them, but there wasn’t – aside from the marks along their neck from their angel’s hungry little mouth. Crowley touched one gently, and smirked. That had certainly been something. While they could easily alter their form and make the marks disappear, they didn’t. Keeping them made everything more real, they couldn’t pretend the night before was just a very realistic dirty dream – it was real, and their angel had claimed them as his.

They had dressed in a tight (and short) black dress, black stockings and black knee high snakeskin boots with dangerously thin heels. With a wispy red scarf tied at their throat (just because they wanted to keep the marks didn’t mean they wanted anyone else to look at their horny little secret) and hair pulled back into two messy buns on either side of their head they slunk out of the shop. Stiletto heels clicked menacingly on the stone street as if to say: watch out world, I’m newly sexed up! I’m mad, bad and mildly inconvenient to know!

Package in hand, they trotted back to the shop, bell tinkling sweetly. They placed the package on the table, stepping back to make sure it was perfectly arranged – the shop bell rang.

Head whipping round, Crowley hissed under their breath. There was a MAN. He smiled when they met his eye. Crowley curled their lip.

‘Hello-’

‘Go away,’ Crowley strode over, making shooing motions with their hands. The man was taller than them, and white with a mess of brown hair. He picked up a book, turning over uselessly in his hands, ‘I just want to look at some books...’

‘You can’t, shops closed. Piss off!’

The man smiled, then held out his hand, ‘Okay. You caught me, I actually saw you outside and wanted to meet you -’

‘- Ew, grosssss, ’ Crowley hissed – He was ruining their morning! Inside their head a 40 foot serpent was smashing its metaphorical fists on a table chanting “BITE! BITE! BITE! BITE!” Their teeth itched. When ever they felt a strong – and often negative – emotion Crowley’s internal bearings would stop pointing at “person” and start pointing towards “reticulated python” taking their corporal form with it.

‘- The names David.’

‘I don’t care!’ Crowley’s whole faced scrunched in disgust, ‘Do you often follow strangers into buildings? How are you not dead?’

‘There’s no need for that -’

‘Get out! Now! The shop is closed, and I have no desire what so-fucking-ever of knowing you!’

The human couldn’t see it, but Crowley could feel their fangs growing, their body gaining vertebra, lengthening, bones threatening to crack and warp -

‘Crowley?’ The most beautiful sound in the world was their name uttered by a puffy faced, bleary eyed angel in a tartan pyjama set and fluffy slippers. The man turned and blinked, ‘....oh.’

‘Who are you?’ The angel frowned catching sight of the man.

‘He followed me in!’ Crowley snarled, ‘Before I could lock the door.’

‘Why did you follow my love in here?’ Aziraphale walked slowly over, eyes fixed on the man.

‘We were just talking-’

Crowley backed away with a snarl. The snake inside was thirsting for a fight, and they were not going to give in – especially not when Aziraphale’s books were in the splash zone.

The angel stood with his hands behind his back, head cocked to one side. ‘We are closed, sir, you really do need to leave.’

‘Hey, she came in here too-’

‘Of course THEY did. THEY are my partner, you are a pillock,’ The angel gave a steely grin. ‘Vacate the premises on your own accord, before I have to force you out myself.’

Crowley barked a laugh, leaning forward to grip the edge of a shelf. Their ribs were on fire. As a defence mechanism, turning into a giant serpent was quite handy. A lot of creatures backed off from the sight of a skinny little person exploding in a cloud of viscera into a 650 pound mass of teeth and scales. But it did wreck havoc on the nerves.

‘She never said she was married...’ The man whined, slamming the door behind himself. Aziraphale clicked his fingers and the locks slammed into place.

‘Are you okay – oh... Oh dear!’ Aziraphale gasped.

Teeth. Crowley was all teeth now, arms limp and useless around their middle. ‘Gotta biiiite ssssssomething!’

‘Hang on, my love!’

Aziraphale trotted to his desk. He rummaged through the topmost drawer. With expert aim Aziraphale threw a large dog toy at Crowley, who’s body twisted and burst into heavy coils. They caught the toy in their huge jaw, sinking their fangs in deep. With each furious chomp the thing squeaked, lost in the rolling body of the serpent. Crush it! Crush it!

Somewhere in the background of their mind, Crowley heard their angel putting on the jug. The air was full of his scent – warm, tired, a little sweaty. It was calming. Their heavy body slowly unknotted itself. Aziraphale came back in, carrying two steaming mugs. He sat on the shop sofa with a sigh, ‘Goodness me, what a way to start the day.’

‘Bad man,’ Crowley rumbled, punctuating the sentence with a squeak of the chew toy.

‘Indeed!’

The chew toy dropped to the floor, Crowley’s head rising above their knots, ‘If I find who invented misogyny, I’ll give them such a dressing down!’

‘Hear, hear!’ Aziraphale held his drink aloft.

‘They’ll get such a bollocking like no one has ever been bollocked before!’

‘Hear, hear...?’

‘And I’ll constrict around their horrible, pitiful little body until their bastarding head pops off and flies into the sun!’

‘Oh, good lord...’ Aziraphale made a face, looking over at Crowley.

‘Bastards!’ The snake snarled at the world, head aloft, fangs bared. They sucked in a deep breath, then slithered over to the sofa. They looped their body around the entire thing a couple of times, large head placed softly on the angel’s knee. They sighed, ‘....bastards.’

‘I know, darling,’ Aziraphale stroked his finger down the centre of their face. ‘I am sorry.’

‘I’m not a girl...’ They sighed, ‘And I shouldn’t be upset that some wanker thought I was one! What even is a gender to a thing like me? I wear a body for fun, but it’s not...anything! I’m like a...a...a Muppet! A muppet with a snake instead of a hand up it!’

Aziraphale blew out a slow breath, ‘You’re very...descriptive today, my love.’

‘But that’s what it’s like! It’s all fake,’ Crowley wobbled their head. ‘So why am I upset!’

‘Because you were mistreated,’ The angel ran his thumb over the top of their snout. ‘He shouldn’t have said what he said. Or treated you like he did. You’re allowed to be upset, sweet one. Because you deserve the be treated with respect and to be seen how you wish to present yourself.’

Crowley nuzzled their snout into his hand, letting their forked tongue gently touch his wrist. He chuckled softly, and Crowley felt a little thrill at the sound. Comforting. Angel was always comforting and warm.

‘Got you a treat,’ They purred, pointing the tip of their tail at the package. Aziraphale gasped, grinning, ‘Oh! How thoughtful. You’re so kind, Crowley.’

‘Ew, stop it, haven’t I been through enough this morning,’ Crowley mumbled, eternally grateful that snakes couldn’t blush. ‘Are you going to have a snake day?’ Aziraphale asked, stroking his hand down the back of their head. They liked it when he petted them, not that they’d ever told him. But, they supposed, maybe he already knew. He had such a way of finding what made their little brain turn to goo.

‘Nah,’ They said, then pried themself away from Aziraphale’s warm, tender hands. ‘Look away while I switch.’ They slunk down behind the sofa, puling their large body tightly together.

‘Darling, I’ve seen you change a thousand times before, why must I avert my eyes now?’

Because you’ve seen me in ways no one else ever has, and maybe ever will, and I don’t know how to cope with the knowledge of being genuinely and wholly perceived in my true state – and to have that state of being be loved so fully. I feel like I’ve been pulled a part, and put back together piece by minute piece, all by your hand, and that isn’t something I have felt since the birth of creation.

Is what Crowley thought. What Crowley said was:

‘Cut me some fucking slack, Angel!’

Limbs restored, Crowley wriggled their little dress back down over their thighs, and gave their hair a quick pat down. Wrinkle free and fangs safely put away, they sat down beside Aziraphale, and smiled. He didn’t return it.

'So...' Aziraphale said, staring into the depths of his tea. 'We need to talk about last night, yes?'

'Do we, though?' Crowley sat on their hands to hide the shaking. Nerves made their stomach gurgle. There was no point trying to hide it, that man-shaped force of love and light beside them could see through them in an instant. He was their best friend. He'd seen them at some of their lowest points, he knew them probably better than they knew themself. And that put him at an unfair advantage.

'Yes, Crowley, we do,' He shifted in his seat, and looked at them. Crowley couldn't make eye contact, so they slouched, crossed their legs, hands folded on their stomach and stared up at the cobweb covered ceiling. Build a little wall, enough to peek over but enough to shelter, they thought. Just in case.

'Okay then, Angel,' they said. 'Fire away.'

Aziraphale sighed, 'You were gone when I woke up-'

'- To get you breakfast!'

'Crowley, let me talk. Please?' He sighed again, 'Waking up without you beside me was...a shock. I've never wondered what it would be like to wake up with you there, but I found I had been expecting that.'

'...Sorry.'

'Oh! No, please, you don't need to be,' He reached over and patted their knee. 'Dear boy, what I'm trying to say is when I awoke and you weren’t there I feared the worst. I was worried I had hurt you,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Or frightened you in some way. I’ve hurt you before, and I never want to do so again.’ ‘Ah...But I got over it, so no harm done,’ Crowley lied through their pointy little teeth. Sometimes, in the dead of night they replayed the rejection over and over in their head, or they dreamt it – often accompanied by the smell of smoke and lick of flame.

‘Hmm,’ Aziraphale sipped his tea, giving them a look. ‘Well I haven’t. So tell me, are you okay?’ Behind their glasses Crowley closed their eyes and silently cursed themself. Why now were they filled with nerves? They had so many years of quietly thirsting over the angel, of openly flirting and teasing, and now, NOW was when their palms grew sweaty and they wanted nothing more than the earth to open up and swallow them whole.

'I'm feelin' fine, Angel,' Crowley said with a lazy wave of their hand.

'You're feeling fine?'

'Yeah.'

'Just...fine?'

'Yeah?'

'Right-o, then,' Aziraphale said, crossing his legs. But something in the air told Crowley it was not right-o. Something wasn't right-o at all.

'I mean,' they started, leaning closer with their hands on their knees. 'More than fine, Angel. Really more than fine. I'm good, great even. Tingly.'

'Tingly?'

'All up my spine and my skin,' Crowley gave an awkward half smirk half grimace. 'It's nice. But also, real real weird.'

Aziraphale gave a warm chuckle, setting his tea aside, 'I know what you mean, my love.' Crowley's heart did a horrible little flip at that. They kneaded their chest. I'm never going to get used to that, they thought, this bastard is going to kill me with pet names.

'Why are you rubbing your breast, dear?'

'I'm not! You're making my chest hurt!'

'What? How?'

'By being all good,' Crowley frowned. 'And nice and pretty and soft. Why are you so soft?' Their chest was really starting to hurt now, like their heart was expanding and strangling their lungs.

'Sit down, Crowley, you’re having one of your moments.'

'What?' They were pacing – when did they get up? The room was too hot – why did the angel never open any bloody windows in the place-?

Cold hands. Cold hands at their throat. Instinct said to bite, to jump, to scuttle away into the dark. They stood stock still as Aziraphale delicately untied their scarf. Cool air washed over their skin, followed by a tender touch along the marks still present on their neck and throat. Strong arms wrapped around their middle, and soft curly hair settled under their chin. Crowley's arms hung limp by their side.

'I'm a numpty.'

'Yes you are, but a lovely one,' Aziraphale chuckled softly. He rubbed their back. Crowley pressed their cheek to the top of his head, eyes closed. He smelled like soap. Good soap. Fancy soap with roses in it. It was the most comforting thing they'd ever sniffed. They never wanted to not sniff those roses ever, ever again.

'You need to work on your emotional regulation, though, maybe get a stress ball? We could take a perambulation through the park later -'

'- I want to go home.'

Aziraphale pulled back, frowning deeply, 'Oh.'

Crowley picked up the box of pastries and strode towards the stairs.

'Where are you going?' Aziraphale asked. They could hear the frustration in his voice. Crowley ran, 'Upstairs! I think I live here now!’

'What the blazes are you on about?' Aziraphale thundered behind them but Crowley had already placed the box on the table and was sizing up the room.

'I wanna put my desk under that window-'

'Crowley!'

'What?'

'You can't just decide something like that! This is my home-'

'-I think you might be mine, though.'

Aziraphale heaved a huge sigh, ‘Oh, my heart. You sweet, beautiful fool.’ He rolled his eyes then smiled, ‘Crowley, I want to be with you and around you as much as possible. You don’t have to grip so tightly, I’m not going anywhere. I adore you. But you can’t just decide that you live here. Do you actually want to move in to the shop with me?’

‘No, it’s kind of ugly,’ They admitted. ‘And your interior decorating abilities are seriously lacking, Angel. I mean really, tartan curtains? Yellow wallpaper? It’d need a complete do over-’

‘Well, golly, thank you for that Crowley,’ Aziraphale laughed, untying the ribbon on the package. He flipped the lid and gasped. ‘Oh! So pretty! Is that almond paste?

‘And custard.’

The smile Crowley got could have lit up the whole world. They could do this. If they could get a smile like that every day, then fuck, maybe they’d be worth something. All they wanted was that smile. That warmth and bite.

‘Maybe,’ They said carefully, ‘We could have a trial run. Of living together.’

Aziraphale nodded, licking sugar powder off his fingers in such a manner that Crowley had to avert their eyes to keep their thoughts on track. ‘Would you move in here? I don’t know if I could move into your apartment-’

‘Nah nah,’ Crowley rocked on their heels. ‘Somewhere neutral.’

‘Neutral.’ Aziraphale hummed, looking out the window, ‘Like...a holiday?’

‘Yeah! Angel,’ Crowley smiled toothily, ‘Wanna go on holiday? Anywhere you like, you pick, I’ll drive!’

The angel leaned back in his dining chair, hands folded on the table. He grinned, ‘I’ll go pack.’

---

Thanks for reading! If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee here!

#good omens #goodomens #goodomens fanfic #crowleyxaziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ao3 writer #also on ao3 #my fic

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personasintro · 5 years

Text

[3] Yoongi comforts you

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You hear one of your classmates slandering you but Yoongi is there for you.

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: fluff

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: none

A/N: This is a part of series called ‘Away From You’. This drabbles will contain scenes that didn’t make it to actual series. You don’t have to read the series to actually understand this, but some of the drabbles will be involved around the plot.

Series link

drabbles index

Teenage girls can be mean. They can say stuff without properly thinking about them and how they can hurt someone with their meaning behind them. You always knew it but not from your own experience.

In every classroom there is always the prettiest girl that boys fancy and all girls envy. It’s just how it is and works. Mostly, those girls can get pretty confident by the simple act and sometimes act like they own the school. They belittle everyone by saying ugly mean things.

You witnessed it with your own eyes couple of times - them making fun of girls with little bit of weight. Or just because they think they’re ugly. You always hated it. You were always so angry about it and telling it to the only two people who listened to your anger rambling.

Seeing girls hiding in the toilets and crying made you feel awful. You never wanted them to feel ugly just because they're not up to everyone’s standard.

What you never thought is that you’d be one of those girls.

You were about to enter girl’s restroom when you heard her. You classmate -Yeojin.

‘Have you seen Y/N today? She’s getting ugly, I mean, look at her cheeks. She needs to stop eating that much.’

It’s what you heard. It caused you to stop in your tracks and bite into your lip.

No, no, no. Maybe they mean another Y/N.

But you know there's no Y/N in your whole school. You’re sure of it.

‘I’m surprised Yoongi is even friends with her. He’s coming from so wealthy family, he should have a different friend than her.’

The mention of what used to be only Hoseok’s friend, but is yours now as well, causes you to gulp. No, you can’t listen to them. But you still do when she doesn’t stop, her little muppets agreeing with her and even giggling about it.

You abruptly turn around, the tears prickling your eyes and you hate it. You hate that feeling of embarrassed, sadness, anger and probably another awful mix of negative feelings. You’re in desperate need to escape, not caring that you’ll miss your last class for today.

No, you don’t care about science class at all.

All you care about is to find some place quiet where you can cry. The awful words from Yeojin rings in your ears and it only digs harder into your heart but you can still make out the school bell ringing to notice students their break ended.

You’re walking so fast, eyes glued to your boots faintly noticing students rushing to their classrooms, and you pray no one notices the tears already falling down your cheeks.

Damn it! You wanted to wait when you’re going to be alone. But it seems like your heart and pride have its own mind.

You’re abruptly stopped when your frame is colliding with another one, sending you backwards. You gasp ready for the impact with the hard floor and embarrassment but another person catches you, stumbling slightly.

“Y/N?”

Your widened eyes look at very familiar ones, widening even more if that's even possible.

“Yoongi?” you crook out, your voice raspy by the huge lump in your throat.

You watch him frown as he scans your face. You feel like you’re burning under his gaze, so you simply advert your eyes back to your boots - finding them much interesting than the burning gaze he’s giving you.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks, his arms leaving your frame but you can peripherally see him tilting his head to you for a better view at your tears stained cheeks.

“N-nothing.” you lie straight through your teeth hoping he’ll believe your little white lie.

But you and Yoongi know better. And he isn’t obviously blind and noticed your reddened cheeks stained with your tears. He even hears the soft whimper that escapes your dry lips but you’re too emotional to even lick them.

You kind of hope he’ll just leave you alone to save you from your embarrassment. You rarely cried in front of him. The only time he has seen you cry is when you watched that awfully sad movie with a dog in it that Hoseok put on. And you thought he’d laugh at you the moment he saw you sniffling quietly on the end of sofa in Hoseok’s house, but he never did. Instead he kept gazing at you throughout the moment but adverted his eyes anytime you caught his eyes.

And you think he’ll leave and won't question your sudden state, and just be himself. He never comforts people. At least you never seen him doing that. Well, except that time with Hoseok cried over some dramatic movie, which he put on, and he cuddled to Yoongi despite of Yoongi’s protest. At the end, Yoongi just sighed and awkwardly patted him on his back.

However, he won’t leave. Not when you’re sniffling avoiding his curious and frowned eyes. So he chooses to tuck his finger under your chin and lifts your face to him. You can't do anything else than just to look at his frowned and not so pleased face.

“What happened?” he asks softly and pulls his hand from your chin slowly.

You ignore the slight tingling feeling which his soft touch left behind, blaming it on your current emotional state.

“Just heard some girls talking about me.” you mutter under your breath.

You don’t even know what made you to tell him the truth. Maybe you could just said it’s girl’s stuff or something but the way he looks at you with worried eyes and his pouty lips just made you to do it. And the way your heart warms when you realise that he cares. And that he’s your friend despite of him having his own persona and weird habit of pushing people away.

Sometimes you feel like he doesn’t show his true emotions and has a true habit of hiding it. But you still know he’s caring even if he doesn’t say he likes you and Hoseok as his friends.

But he does. He wouldn’t bring you your favourite pizza every time you complained about school’s lunch the day before. Or he wouldn't help Hoseok with his project in his spare time. Or he wouldn’t hold you in his arms when you cried on his shoulder because of your parents’ divorce. Or the fact he waits for you just so he can walk you home, so you don’t have to walk there alone. It’s all those small things that makes your heart flatter and for a moment you feel special.

It’s all the new emotions you’re feeling as a teenager.

“T-they said I gained a lot of weight and that... um.. that I’m ugly and-” you stop before a cry leaves your mouth embarrassingly, your hand clasping over your mouth to silence the cries.

“Oh, Y/N...” Yoongi breathes and before you can fully process the emotion behind his tone, he brings you closer hugging you to himself.

You can smell the nice scent of his fabric softener which you always liked and secretly wished your clothes would smell so good. You even smell some male’s cologne that you’re sure he stole from his father.

“They said that they’re surprised you’re my friend.” you tell him, your head pressed against his chest. Despite of his not so tall body, you’re still much smaller than him. Your voice comes muffled but he hears every single word.

You can hear his heartbeat through his school uniform which is oddly relaxing for you. It zones out those nasty words your awful classmate said.

You want to be angry at that girl and hate her. But you’re left being hurt. And insecure wondering if you really gained that much of weight. You probably did, you even noticed your boobs getting bigger and hips widening. You’re becoming a woman and you hate it. You hate how much your body is changing every day and your hips gets wider and butt bigger.

Maybe you wouldn’t dwell on it too much if there weren’t some boys who would whistle every time you walked pass them, their eyes glued to your butt.

“You can’t listen to them because they’re lying.”

You can hear his voice even more since your ear is pressed against his chest. It vibrates as he speaks, fading out the sound of his heartbeat.

“Are they though?” You can’t help but chuckle bitterly after you pull away from his slightly.

However, his hands still stay wrapped around your frame. You enjoy the heat radiating from his body as you feel like you’re not alone. You don’t know how he does it but you’re starting to feel slightly better just from his presence.

“Of course,” he chuckles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear when it falls in front of your face and he can’t see you properly. “You’re nowhere near ugly.” he whispers causing you to look up straight to his warm eyes.

He bites into his lower lips softly and it causes you to look at the two pillows which seems so soft. You wonder how they feel like. Does they feel so soft as they look? Gosh, is this your way of saying that you want to kiss him?

No! Of course not!

This is Min Yoongi we’re talking about! The grumpy Min Yoongi who ruffles your hair just to annoy you.

“Is this your way of saying that I’m pretty?” you ask amusingly, his own lips twitching in amusement when he sees your sudden change of behaviour.

He bites his lip as if he wants to prevent himself from saying something and you cock your head at him curiously when you see a flash of panic on his face.

“No, of course not! You’re not that pretty!” he exclaims immediately and steps away from you causing your smile to drop.

Wow, you never thought he could hurt you this much.

Not when this hurts even more than Yeojin’s insults.

“I know.” you whisper, your eyes wetting with more tears that you don’t see his eyes widening.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant!” he says quickly his hands trying to hold you but you smack them away.

“Seriously, I don’t need to hear this again, especially not from you.” you admit, scoffing bitterly just to hide the disappointment and sadness on your face and voice. It’s your defensive mechanism. To fake emotions in order to hide your real ones.

“Y/N, you--”

“Just shut up, please. You’re hurting me,” you whisper and Yoongi’s heart cracks at the way you sniffle with your head hung low. “I should g-”

“You’re not pretty. You’re beautiful,” he cuts you off, his words coming as quickly as possible. “And they’re stupid for not seeing that. And you’re my friend whether they like it or not. Don’t listen to them, they’re being ridiculous.”

There’s a fire in his eyes as he mentions ‘they’ in his sentence, making it seem like he’s annoyed or even angry at the person who told you that. And you feel weird because you hope it’s exactly like that.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

It’s a dangerous question, a very dangerous one, but you can’t shut your mouth and ask it with hopeful eyes you don’t realise you’re having. It comes out as whisper but you know he heard you since he’s so close to you.

Yoongi shakily inhales watching the way your eyes widen and lips pout in adorable way. And he has this weird urge to hurt anyone who ever hurt you like that. Whoever made your eyes swollen with tears and voice shivering from their nonsense insult.

“Of course,” he whispers back, his heart hammering in his chest violently the same way your does as well. You’re both aware of yourselves but not having a damn clue the other one feels the same. “I wouldn’t have an ugly friend.” he adds with much louder and innocent tone.

He shows you his gummy smile when you slap his shoulder with a roll off your eyes and annoyed expression. “Way to ruin it, Min.”

He silently laughs when he sees your lips twitching in amusement but your pride is getting in the way, so you only purse your lips at him in annoyance. His laughter dies when he looks at you. However, he looks at you differently. And the atmosphere in the air changes when he looks at you with honesty in his warm eyes.

“I was serious. I am serious. You’re beautiful, don’t let anyone to tell you otherwise.”

He makes it sound like it’s coming easy out of him, but he’s freaking out in the inside.

Did he really say that out loud?

Crap, it sounded way better in my head, he thinks.

But you give him something that makes it worth it. You smile at him but not the way you usually do at anyone. No, it’s nothing like that. Your eyebrows are slightly lifted in yearner and the most warming and beautiful smile adores your lips, which slightly pout. His words touched you deeply and you can’t help but feel the heat hitting your cheeks. It’s almost as if someone slapped you in the face.

“Thank you.” you speak before you wrap your hands around his frame and press your ear against his chest, wanting to hear his heartbeat. And you do and Yoongi hopes you don’t hear how rapidly fast it beats. But he doesn’t know yours does the same thing, almost jumping out of your chest.

He slowly wraps his hands around your petite frame and pulls you even closer, his nose inconspicuously touching your hair so he can smell it. It smells nice. It always does.

“Come on, I know a place which will make you better.” he says, slightly pushing you away although, he wanted to stay like that for as long as he can.

But he’s pretty aware you’re both standing in the empty hallway and it’s only a matter of time when some teacher will see you and scold you for not being in your own classrooms.

“But what about your class?” you ask with furrowed brows and Yoongi pushes the urge to soften the crease between your eyebrows.

You want to believe that you’re frowning because of the idea of him ditching school but you’re actually frowning because he’s not hugging you anymore.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but we both already missed it.” he chuckles.

Well, you both could always go there and find some lame excuse for coming late, you want to say but you don’t. Because ditching school with Yoongi sounds way better.

“Come on before someone will see us.” he says, his head pointing towards the end of the hallway knowing there are door to outside.

You hesitate wondering if it’s really good idea. You both could get into a big trouble for ditching school. And it seems as if Yoongi can read your mind when he stretches his hand towards you, wiggling his fingers at you.

And with a shy smile you take it, grabbing it as if your life depends on it. He quickly leads the both of you outside, your silent giggles echoing in the empty hallway.

And that time, he takes you to an amusement arcade filled with different types of machines making you laugh or even curse whenever you loose to him, because naturally, you never visited such a place and he obviously knows how to play video games. You completely forgot that you skipped class and maybe upcoming trouble from your parents your way, or even Yeojin’s hurtful words which aren't nothing more than nonsense now. Thanks to Yoongi.

It’s until he asks you who spoke those things about you.

And you tell him thinking he doesn’t know all your classmates when he remains silent and points towards the video game that you’re playing instead.

You think he probably forgot about it until you see him confronting Yeojin herself in the hallway.

‘Don’t you dare to anything like that about her ever again!’ You remember hearing him as Yeojin’s eyes widened and she became stuttering mess.

You couldn't see his face since he stood with his back facing to you but you were more than sure he is angry since you could hear it in his voice and on Yeojin’s face. And Yoongi looks scary when he’s angry.

Yeojin even came up to you later and apologised personally to you. It made you think Yoongi had something to do with it but you didn't overthink it too much.

Ever since that happened, no one told you one bad thing your way because Yoongi always protected you. He always looked after you without you even realising it most of the time.

But one thing Yoongi can’t protect himself is from his own mother who found out about him skipping class.

“Honey, calm down. He’s a teenager, kids in his age do things like that.”

Yoongi chuckles when he hears his dad calling him a ‘kid’ from the downstairs trying to calm down his wife.

“Not my son! He’s always responsible, I don’t believe he was alone! Someone must’ve forced him into that, I’m sure of it!”

He hears his mother say frustrated causing him to sigh as he leans against the doorframe of his room.

He couldn’t told her the truth about who he was with. His mother would instantly blame it all on you and he can’t let that happen. Not when he was the one who took you there. But even after hearing his mother frustrated complaints which unfortunately his dad has to hear right now, a soft smile appears on his lips. It’s there when he remembers your giggles and shining eyes every time you won or the cute pout you did when Yoongi beat you with bigger score.

And again, he protected you.

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #bts request #bts drabble #yoongi au #yoongi scenario #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi drabble #bts au

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seromreven · 5 years

Text

title: ooby dooby.

anonymous requested: “could i ask for an imagine where the reader tends to get into fights a lot and the boys have to help clean them up when they go a bit too far one night?”

author’s note: eey, anon didn’t say anything about ships but i couldn’t resist.

---

1961,

It had otherwise been a great night. Really. You had gone out with your great pals; John, Paul, George, Stu, and that Pete guy you never really talked to. Great fun! Until, of course, they went off to play on stage and you, and with your horrible singing and playing, went to the bar and watched- and immediately started pouring cheap drinks in yourself. And it didn’t take long before you were off your rockers, dancing along to the music. It was much more fun with the boys but given they were busy; you had to do so alone. And so it went for an hour of relative peace until, of course, some muppet opened his mouth, openly inviting you to connect your fist with his face.

What he said and what happened afterwards doesn’t bear repeating but here it is, anyway; it had started out mild. The guy and his four buddies made some crude jokes- whatever, right? Nothing you hadn’t heard before from John or the lads. But then they moved on to an entirely different subject- the band. Most specifically, Paul’s appearance. And you weren’t to take that shit, you weren’t about to stand there in silence listening to them saying just nasty things about your friend! So you poked the pug-faced lad on the shoulder, trying to be polite, you said; “guten tag, the band up there are my friends and if you don’t shut up or talk about something else and not about what you wanna do to my friend’s ass-” he interrupted you with a loud huff. “It’s none of your business what we talk about,” he crossed his arms and scowled at you. His buddies stepped closer to you and you swiftly ignored the loud flashing lights of danger danger in your head and took a step closer to the ringleader.

“Oh,” you laughed, “it’s very much my business.”

“Standing up for your girlfriend, eh?” He looked around at his friend, smugness written all over his face. You weren’t much impressed. It was a very lacking… insult, if you could call it that. But the environment was hostile enough for you to feel the hit of it. You looked around, laughing good-naturedly, seeing other patrons of the nightclub starting to notice something going on, and watched as his pals laughing faces turned to confusion at seeing your hearty expression. It served you well, their confusion, as it left them in a shocked state when you finally threw your first and entire body against every mother’s dream. You had hammered on the stranger for a good while before the background music drastically stopped and your arms were grabbed and bent behind your back by his yelling friends. You knuckle was bruised and bloodied and you choked on a chortle of spit as you were dragged away, seeing your new friend gurgle on his own blood. You heard the hurried tap tap of familiar boots and out of the eye saw your friends come running as you were dragged out the club by the man’s rather burly friend. You gave John, who looked well beyond furious, a lazy wave as the door closed on them.

The men had landed a couple of hits on you which amounted to… eights hits, you think. The situation wasn’t making math particularly easy. They all felt brand-spanking new, and you felt the skin of your lips rip and teeth… not feel very secure in your mouth. You really had landed yourself in a mess this time around! But you had managed to get some kicks and bites in before the door to the alley slammed open, revealing a huffing John and George, and Paul looking wildly panicked. Stu was… not there, nor Pete but whatever about him. John yelled out something nonsensical and went with the rest of the gang out and pulled off each their own guy, leaving one behind for you that you finally managed to bite hard enough for him to yell expletives and back off. He held his arm, looked rather startled, bleeding from where you had bitten, cursing like mad hell before storming back into the club, presumably back to his friend and whatever state you had left him in. You felt your body creak and body as you fought your way up from the ground; it was a lost cause, and you resigned to laying on the fantastically cool floor, watching your lads beating the hell out of the men who were slowly backing off and towards the club door.

“Bye,” your sang at them, voice cracking as you watched them retreat. The collar of your jacket was suddenly tugged violently upwards, and you met the face of a furious John, causing you to giggle nervously at his expression. You were in trouble. “You idiot!” He sneered and shook you madly, feeling as if you could hear something rattle inside your head in response. You heard Paul stammer in protest and felt John’s grip slip slightly as he stared back and forth between you and the guitarist. “He need help! Not to be shook,” Paul griped at John in a hushed voice while glancing towards the door. John groaned and gestured to George to pull you up and over their arms. The teen looked worse for wear, making a painful tinge of guilt make its way through your drunken state.

“Let’s get him to the Kino,” Paul said with a rather authoritarian voice and off you went. John weren’t exactly quiet on the way to the cinema and Beatle residence, giving you several synonyms for idiot- and he said he didn’t do well in school, please! You would’ve told him he wasn't in any place to judge but… well, you would if you didn’t think opening your mouth would only make a cascade of blood and broken teeth. And… really, how would he react to such a judgement? In the mood he already was in? You huffed at the thought, and in reaction, coughed violently- making your friends stop against a cold brickwall as you coughed your lungs dry.

Paul tutted, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped your mouth as you stood in the aftermath, trying to get your breath back. You sighed at the feel of the soft material as he carefully wiped your face. The fine light blue cotton was splattered with dark red splotches and you muttered a painful apology at the sight of the lovely cloth being all but ruined. Paul shrugged and shoved it into the back pocket of his drainpipes. “It’s fine. You’re more important than some silly clothing,” he smiled, though it looked sad… or, rather, disappointed. Like he always looked at you or John whenever one of you (or both) got into a brawl. You looked at the last pair of the group and seeing them talking amongst themselves a small distance away from you, you motioned for Paul to come closer to you. “I did it for you,” you told him as if it were some great secret and his eyes widened slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but you got there first.

“No one talks about you like they did- not on my watch,” you leaned back again, inadvertently hitting your head against the hard brick. You watched him glance to John and George, like you had done moments prior, and now were the one to lean forward. “Thank you,” he muttered softly and before you could react, he leaned in a placed a soft kiss on your bruised cheek. “But stop getting in fights,” his face swiftly changed from gentle to stern. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You nodded and carefully placed your burning cheek, feeling where his lips once had been.

#request #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #male reader #reader #reader insert #beatles fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years

Link

Chapter Nine of Can’t Find My Way Home is posted! Read the whole fic at Ao3!

Chapter Nine

Baz

I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to be in a cramped economy seat. I’m reveling in it. I’m basking in the notion that Simon had us moved because he wanted us to be closer to one another.

Which we are. He pushed the armrest up out of the way almost as soon as he was seated. He’s leaning up against me, the warmth of his body soaking into mine, his head resting on my shoulder.

I think he’s nuzzling my neck.

“’M glad you still smell like this.”

“What?” I keep saying that today. I’m almost sure I’ve tumbled into some alternate dimension where Simon actually craves my companionship and I’m incapable of articulate speech.

He nudges my shoulder, face still buried in my neck. “You smell the same. As you did at school. I always liked it.”

My heart thumps in my chest. I think it’s these small admissions, more than the kissing even, that make me concede this is real. I’d never have had the audacity to dream these up.

I’ve answered more than my fair share of questions today, most of them inadvertently. I have a few of my own for Simon. I’m not sure I’m as brave as he is about asking them though.

I rub circles on the back of his hand with my thumb. I like everything about this seating arrangement. The way his leg is pressed against mine, how he’s leaning into me, the way our fingers intertwine. Christ, did he just kiss me?

He’s trailing kisses just below my ear, in the middle of a crowded flight. My eyes dart over his head to look around, but no one is paying us any mind. It probably just looks like Simon’s passed out on my shoulder. I should . . . I don’t know what I should do.

I close my eyes and let my head tilt back. I’m should just let myself enjoy it, I think.

Simon

He tenses for a moment and I wonder if he’s going to pull away. But then Baz sighs ever so softly and lets his head fall back. I can’t help smiling against his skin as I feel the tension seep out of him.

This is more like it.

I let my lips skim down his neck, breathing in the scent of him, feeling the racing of his pulse against my mouth.

I wonder if this counts as distraction.

Baz

The arrival of the drink cart puts a stop to Simon’s exploration of that surprisingly sensitive spot behind my left ear.

Probably a good thing. I was ready to grab his face and snog him senseless. I’ve lost all sense of self-control when it comes to him. Too many years of pent-up longing.

Simon doesn’t let go of my hand when he lifts his head to give his order to the steward. I miss the solid weight of him on my shoulder instantly.

There are snacks, so his attention is instantly diverted to the little packet of Biscoff cookies the steward hands him. I don’t know how Simon does it but somehow he manages to get two for himself from the drink cart bloke. I narrow my eyes at the man, but he’s already moving down the aisle.

I can be as territorial as Simon, it seems.

“I love these.” He’s already torn into the first packet and a small shower of crumbs drifts over his shirt, the tray table and my arm. Simon crumples the empty packet and starts in on his second one. I watch, because I can now. His Adam’s apple bobs in that familiar way and I’m mesmerized by the sight of it.

I notice a crumb at the edge of Simon’s lip and I want to lick it off. Christ, I’m pathetic.

He turns to grin at me and it’s typical Simon—lopsided smile, food stuck in his teeth, that crumb precariously perched on his lip. I can’t help myself. I lean in and kiss him (just a brush of lips to his cheek) (I don’t want the remains of his biscuit in my mouth) (I don’t lick the crumb off) (I still want to).

He grins even more, and then his eyes settle on the lonely biscuit packet on my tray table. “You going to eat that?”

“You are incorrigible.”

“You like me anyway.” His face moves closer.

I most certainly do. I’ve been hopelessly in love with this idiot for almost a decade, and for the first time I don’t feel anything but elation at the thought.

A part of me is still frightfully mortified that he knows. But mostly I’m so fucking relieved at not having to conceal my regard for him anymore.

It was exhausting. Soul-crushing. Heart-breaking every single time I would think one thing in my head and then force myself to say an awful thing instead. Every time I would want to reach out to comfort him and make myself walk out of the room instead.

Simon squeezes my fingers. “It can’t take that much mental effort to decide if you want to share your biscuits with me.” He waggles his eyebrows in an utterly ludicrous fashion. He’s spent years trying to lift his brow at me and it always ends up looking ridiculous. I love it.

“Oh, fine, take them then, if you must, you insatiable muppet.”

He waggles his eyebrows again, but it looks far more suggestive this time. “I’ll share them with you.”

I’d share anything with him.

Simon

I don’t actually mean to eat all of Baz’s biscuits, but I do.

He just rolls his eyes at me. “Typical.” But there’s a smile on his face when he says it. I’m not used to Baz being all soft. I like it, don’t get me wrong. It’s just a bit jarring still. This Baz though, the one who’s sharp and soft, his edges blunted but still keen? I could . . . I could fall pretty hard for him.

I have fallen hard for him. I know it’s fast—forty-eight hours and then some—but when you’ve known someone for half your life, when their face, their mannerisms, their moods, are as familiar as your own? It’s less falling hard and more recognizing that I’ve been probably been into him for far longer than I care to admit.

Which brings me to the questions still lingering in my head. I’m thick enough that I only really came to terms with it the other day (probably in denial for far longer) (I just don’t like to think about things that perplex me).

Baz has known for a long time. I suppose I understand why he never said anything. I mean, I was dating Agatha. And I pretty much told everyone I hated him. Told him too.

He said it back, the wanker, even if he didn’t mean it. Maybe he did mean it. Maybe he hated me for hating him. I don’t know. I should just ask him.

How awkward would that be? No. I can’t really ask.

I want to.

I’m not going to ask.

So of course, I ask.

“Baz.”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He presses his lips together. He’s not even going to pretend he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. It’s this kind of behaviour that really throws me off. I know how to pester him, prod him, annoy the fuck out of him. But I’m a bit at a loss when he reads me so easily and follows my train of thought without even trying.

Baz sighs, closes his eyes and tilts his head back. “What would I have said, Simon? You were straight, last I knew, in love with the most beautiful girl at school, and you absolutely loathed me. Telling you would have served no purpose. You probably would have thrown me down the stairs.”

“I would not.”

“You say that now. I don’t know what you would have done, honestly, and I was too cowardly to risk finding out. It was easier to pine in private and aggravate you in public.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. Baz’s grey eyes are on me now and that crease is back on his forehead. The one I want to smooth away with my fingertips. Or my lips. Either. Both.

His fingers grip tightly to mine as his eyebrows draw even closer together. “When. . . how . . .” He stops, tilts his head back and groans. “I cannot believe I’m unable to string a single sentence together.” He mutters the words but I’m close enough to hear them.

I lean closer still, press my leg against his in solidarity. “What?”

“When the fuck did you stop being straight?”

Ah. I’d been expecting that. I’m not really sure of the answer myself.

It’s not something I actively thought about when I was at Watford. I mean, I thought about sex, of course, but not so much about my sexuality. I knew that things were ok with Agatha, that I loved her but not perhaps the way I’d always envisioned I should.

Intimacy felt awkward, forced. Not for lack of trying, but for lack of follow-through. Or passion, I suppose. It felt nice to cuddle, to kiss her, to have someone to hold. But neither of us ever pushed past that.

I missed that, when we broke up. I missed having someone to be with that way. Penny’s my best friend, and she’s a first-rate hugger, but it’s not the same.

I tried not to think about it at uni. Schoolwork doesn’t come as easily to me as it does to Penny. Or Baz. I needed to keep my focus on that. But I couldn’t help the fact that I was noticing people. Girls, yes.

But men too.

I mean, I’ve always had an appreciation for fit blokes, but I never really stopped to think through what that might mean. And then I found my gaze drawn to a bloke second year at uni. Fit. Tall. Darkhaired.

Yeah, he reminded me a bit of Baz. I can admit that now. Not as smart. Not as funny. But still enough to capture my attention.

Figured out kissing a guy’s not that different from kissing a girl. Fumbled around a bit. But nothing serious. Nothing long term. Not the time or inclination for that.

Baz is still staring at me and I realize I haven’t answered him. “Second year at uni, I think. I mean, I might have had an idea before then but I didn’t really think about it.”

There’s a tension that goes out of him with my words. “You didn’t know at Watford then?”

I shake my head. “Nah. Maybe that I had an inclination, but I didn’t let myself dwell.”

“Dwell? Dwell on what?”

On the way his fucking shampoo smelled. How he’d lift his jersey to wipe the sweat off his forehead on the football pitch. The way he looked so soft for those brief moments before he fully came awake in the morning.

The examples fill my mind. How the fuck did I not realize this years ago?

Fuck. I was such an idiot. You don’t have thoughts like that if you don’t fancy someone.

“On you, you wanker.” Baz’s eyes widen at my words. “On the way your hair would fall just so on your forehead.” I keep thinking of more. It’s like a dam of ideas has burst open in my brain. An entire list of things about Baz that I find endlessly fascinating. “How fucking graceful you were on the pitch.” Fuck it all. “The scent of you.”

His lips quirk up at the corners. “You couldn’t have let me in on this back then? We’ve wasted quite a few years here.”

“Don’t remind me,” I snap. I’m not mad at him. I’m exasperated with myself. I’d tamped this all down, shut it away, until Ebb’s words had brought me up short.

“It’s alright.” Baz’s voice is soft. “You figured it out eventually, didn’t you?”

“That I did. Better late than never I suppose.”

Baz pulls me towards him and presses his forehead to mine. “Much better.”

Baz

I’d frozen for an instant, when Simon was speaking. I’d been paralyzed by the thought that he’d known when he was at Watford too. That I’d fucked it all up royally by being such a prick to him back then.

I did fuck it up by being a prick at school but it chilled me to consider he might have had feelings for me back then and I’d driven him off with my angst-ridden shitty coping mechanisms. Not that I’m letting myself off the hook for being a right arse all those years, but at least I didn’t break his heart.

I let him break mine.

But I don’t care. It’s worth the misery of those years to have this now. I wouldn’t have known how to cope if he’d returned my feelings then. I’d have fucked it up somehow, knowing me.

I came out eighth year, not because I really wanted to but because I needed to let Wellbelove know there was no chance of there ever being an “us.” I couldn’t lead her on like that. It wasn’t fair.

I wanted to let her down gently, to let her know that it was me, not her. Honesty was the kindest option. It was more considerate than humiliating her by shunning her affections publicly. She didn’t deserve that.

I can’t imagine how things might have been if Simon had made his realization earlier. I won’t. It’s pointless to go down the ‘what if’ rabbit hole. I’m eternally grateful for a second chance and mildly surprised I haven’t found a way to fuck it up yet.

I wrap my arm around Simon’s waist and lean against the window, pulling him so his body rests on my chest. He leans back into me, his head falling onto my shoulder again. It feels so natural to have him there. I kiss his bronze curls and breathe in the scent of him.

“I’ve never been so fucking grateful for shit weather.” I whisper the words into his hair. I can just glimpse the smile on his face. I rest my head on his and feel his body relax into mine.

I’m not sure which one of us falls asleep first.

#carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #my fic #travel au

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achtung-attitude · 5 years

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“One more time!” he shouts after climbing out from softened to solid ground, “I know I can get her if we try one more time!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Trish replies, climbing out after him. The ground reverts to its original state. Her hair is a mess after flying through the air.

“What do you mean not necessary?! We can catch her if you use that trampoline move again!”

“That method of pursuit is far too risky. A single miscalculation will result in us becoming pancakes on the sidewalk. Besides--”

“So what the hell else can we do?!” he shouts, grinding his teeth. He advances on her, looming over her, getting in her face. “How else are we going to reach her?! Are we just gonna stand here like idiots while one of your fans dies?!!”

Trish’s eyes narrow. Her eyes spring wide open again when SPICE GIRL spontaneously materializes and hovers over Kilo. It prods his chest with one finger and stares him down. “YOU WERE TOLD TO HAVE FAITH. ARE YOU SO FULL OF SUSPICION AND HATE YOU ARE WITHOUT REASON?”

“Wha?...” Kilo mutters, bewildered but still on guard.

“WE KNOW YOU. WE HAVE KNOWN MEN LIKE YOU BEFORE. THOSE WHO HAVE MADE AN ENEMY OF THE WHOLE WORLD. BELIEVING IN NOTHING, BELIEVED IN BY NOBODY. A CLOSED-OFF SOUL, RIPE SOIL FOR CULTIVATING EVIL. JUST LIKE FATHER.”

“SPICE GIRL, enough!” Trish yells, “you’ve said too much!”

Her Stand goes silent, before receding back into Trish’s essence. Kilo stands his ground, but a chill runs up his spine nonetheless. That was not bluster, he is sure. He does not know what the Stand meant, but he senses there was no lie in it all the same. There is anger in Trish’s eyes. Hatred. Fear and pain and regret, like baubles of light floating in a green pool. She sighs.

“Mi scusa. My Stand can be rather outspoken… Your doubt in me... is not unfounded. You haven’t known me longer than half an hour. But I ask you to trust me now and believe when I say I will do everything in my power to save Shizuka. But how can either of us do anything for her if we are too damaged to even help ourselves?

“That’s why we must change tack. Rather than catching up to her, we must learn where the Stand is taking her. And now we have a trail of follow.”

Declaring this, she raises her left hand. Tied around her index finger, what appears to be an ultra thin thread of gold waves about in the warm evening wind. Kilo follows the path of it, and sees it leads up into the sky. In the night sky, he cannot pick Shizuka out anymore, but he realizes that the thread must lead right to her.

“This is living hair,” Trish declares, “the move earlier wasn’t intended to catch Shizuka, but for this. I softened this hair and its cuticle. It will stretch endlessly, no matter how far she flies. With this, we can know exactly where she is going.”

“... Like Theseus in the Labyrinth. Finding his way with a golden thread…” Kilo murmurs, backing off at last.

Trish smiles at him, producing a comb seemingly out of nowhere to brush her hair back into place. “Have you faith now, Kilo Staples?”

---

“Let go of me you rejected Muppet freak!” Shizuka yells. She struggles and kicks in NYT’s grip, which so far has proven to be unbreakable. It is cold up there, and difficult to breath. The wind whip her hair into her face and bring tears to her eyes. It carries her by her arms, its claws cold and metallic, its joint creaking audibly. “SUNAVA BITCH!!!” she shouts, swinging like a acrobat to deliver a kick to the Stand’s forehead, but only for her foot to phase through.

“It’s not letting go…! Regular Stand rules still apply… It can touch me, but I can’t damage it in return…!”

She lets her foot swing back down, and looks up, to see the moon. As far up as they are, she can make it out, even against the glare of the streetlights below. ACHTUNG BABY reaches out and takes hold of the light rays streaming down from it. “See how you like this!” Shizuka shouts, as Achtung Baby delivers a fist cracking into NYT’s face, followed by a flash of light.

The grip on her right arm is released, and she begins to grin in triumph. But then NYT’s right hand blurs and she feels a stinging pain in her neck. Coughing, she looks down and see one of the Stand’s syringe fingers sticking into her neck. The fluid press injects some dark pinkish fluid into her veins.

Instantly, drowsiness like a wave crashes over her brain and her vision goes blurry and dark. “Aghh… Son of a… bitchhh…! Whadidyudoo…?!” Her speech slurring, she soon goes limp. NYT resumes its grip on both arms and continues to carry her away.

---

“Did you a favor, dumbass,” sneers Cone at his laptop screen. “What were you even trying to do, stupid piece of bait? Don’t you know what’d happen even if you could get loose?” He raises his hand, then lowers it, waving it side to side. “Wheeeeeeeew, KERSPLAT!!” he exclaims, slapping his open palm on the dusty ground, then laughing grimly.

“Ok, enough of that. Back to the main problem. Trish and this blackie. How do I get him away from her? How dare he get his stink all over her like that?” Grumbling to himself, he opens a tab on his laptop, keeping the footage of NYT in the corner of the screen. He pulls up a road map of Los Angeles.

After a moment of studying the map, he makes his decision, and picks up a remote controller, slightly heavier than a regular one but with the same shape as a standard video game controller. “Follow the drone, NEED YOU TONIGHT. Follow this path,” he mutters at his screen, manipulating the joysticks.

---

Finding a vehicle proved even easier than expected for Kilo and Trish, as they simply approach a parked motorcycle. Soon enough, Kilo gets to work hotwiring it.

“Is a motorcycle a good idea? Couldn’t we find a car?” Trish asks as Kilo gets the engine started.

“This your first time in LA, lady? Traffic can be a nightmare, even at this time of night. No, what we need is something more…”

“Maneuverable?”

“Right.” At that moment, Kilo revs up the engine as he gets on. “Now that’s what I’m talking about…”

“I didn’t know you had such a unique skillset, Mr. Staples,” she notes as he revs up the vehicles.

“Well, Miss Una, I grew up in Compton. This shit is what we had instead of Nintendo.”

With her arms wrapped around his waist, Kilo speeds off. They thunder down the semi-populated streets, swerving between lanes, at times running up onto the sidewalk and terrifying pedestrians. Around Trish’s right index finger is tied the yellow hair that leads them to Shizuka. She reacts suddenly. “They’re turning! Left! They’re losing altitude!”

“Got it,” Kilo says, peeling into the next lane. He brakes, tires screaming, then turns again, drifting back onto the sidewalk. Glancing for a moment at his surroundings, he barely avoids ramming into a woman clad in blue, stepping out of a building with with white marble steps. The motorcycle screech to a halt and swerves around to avoid her. Kilo casts a glance at the hapless woman he nearly hit, and notices for the first time her silver badge, and that her navy-blue clothes are, of course, a uniform. “Shit,” he mutters, as he revs up and speeds away from the building that is obviously a police station.

“D-d… Dispatch…” the cop stammers, coming to her senses, before rushing to a nearby squad car and shouting into the radio, “Dispatch, come in. This is Muñoz at Santa Monica Pier Substation! There’s- there’s a 23103 in progress. Suspects are a… African American male and Caucasian female, they’re driving on the sidewalk!”

“Copy that, Santa Monica,” says the metallic voice from the other end of the radio, “back-up is en-route.”

The LAPD work quickly. Within five minutes of the call going out, two squad cars are already on Kilo and Trish’s tail. “For fuck’s sake!” Kilo complains.

“Oh it’s two squad cars!” Trish chides, “Who hasn’t been chased by the police at least once in their- There it is…!”

Kilo sees it, his eyes fixed forward. NEED YOU TONIGHT, directly in front of them and matching their speed, dangling the limp Shizuka in front of it. It swerves into a dark alley, and Kilo swerves after it, leaning close to the asphalt . They burn through the alley, disturbing the homeless people there. Once back on the main road, NYT remains where it is, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach.

“Damn thing’s taunting us…” Kilo grumbles, “To hell with it, I’m gonna grab her!” He sits up, releasing the handlebars. SATURN BARZ hands appear in their place.

“What? Kilo no, listen to me!” Trish says, “It’s trying to goad you, make you slip up!”

“I can’t just leave her when she’s right in front of me!”

“You can! You have to!” Trish points at the misshapen thing. “It’s fast, and it must have impressive range, but it hasn’t attempted to attack us! It must be a long range type with no combat ability. Our best chance of saving Shizuka is if we find the user and put him down!”

“What if it decides to drop her before we get to him?!”

“If the user was going to do that, they would have already! The key here is to remain calm. If you lose your cool, then it’s all over. For the both of you.”

Kilo glances back at her, then back to Shizuka, still clutched in NYT’s hands. “Damn...” he mutters, resigned. No sooner has he said that NYT does suddenly ascend, revealing a bright orange hot-rod speeding towards them.

Kilo shouts in surprise, and barely notices Trish releasing her grip around his waist. She rises to her feet on the back of the seat and leapfrogs over Kilo. SPICE GIRL rains down blows on the hood of the approaching car, turning it soft as gelatin. The motorcycle squishes into it, front wheel first, then flips forward over it. It lands on the other side, both the bike and Kilo rattled, but safe and sound.

“Oughh, you motherfuckers…” groans the guy, a young man wearing shades at night, who steps out of the car, “What the fuck did you do to my car?!!” Glaring furiously, his eyes ultimately find Kilo, and his eyes narrow in anger. “Kilo Staples…?! Oh, you bastard, you’re a fuckin’ dead man--!!

SPICE GIRL cuts him short with a slap to the face that knocks him straight out. “I think I’ll drive now,” Trish says, sauntering to the bike as if nothing has happened.

“Ok,” says Kilo, wide-eyed and dazed.

Swinging onto the seat of the bike, Trish asks, “That man said your name. Do you know him?”

“Wha? Oh, I don’t know. I might’ve kicked his ass a while ago.”

Trish chuckles wryly at this, and drives away as the sirens approach. As they speed away, the driver comes to, and immediately pulls out his cellphone. “Y-yo, it’s me, it’s Darrell…! Listen I need y’all to… No no shut up, listen to me! I need y’all to come the fuck down here, right now! Kilo Staples just wrecked my fuckin’ ride that’s what! … I don’t know what they did to it, but… Just come down here, man. Bring everybody, everybody!! Bring Kilo Staples to me!”

END OF CHAPTER 15

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #kilo staples #trish una #spice girl #ch15

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chaossmagic · 5 years

Note

Drabble prompt: “you make me want things I can’t have.”

teenage runaways au

this is kind of a random mid-story thing and a sample of what is a fully-forming idea in my head of a multi-chapter fic. warnings for homophobia and homophobic/parental violence/child abuse.

When Aaron rounded the corner of the park, bag hitched up onto one shoulder and eyes firmly on the ground, he saw the familiar old and worn blue-grey beanie before anything else - and his chest clenched, like his breath wouldn’t come out of his throat the right way.

A lone figure on a bench, their bench, a tuft of blond hair sticking out from that stupid old hat, a ratty black school bag next to him. He remembered that bag, remembered the way the boy on the bench had clutched it to his chest fearfully the first time Aaron had ever met him, hands shaking around the straps, tear tracks staining his cheeks and fresh blood pouring down his chin from a nose that had recently been smashed in.

Robert.

And suddenly Aaron was marching across the grass, his stride purposeful and angry, ignoring the passers-by who gave him dirty looks as he shoved past them without seeing them. Just another surly teenager with a grudge against the world. That’s all they saw. He preferred it that way.

On reaching the bench, he dumped his bag on the ground, nostrils flaring as an anger he didn’t know he possessed tore from his throat and he barked, “Oi! Where the ‘ell d’you think you disappeared off to? Thought you’d gone and ended up in a ditch somewhere, didn’t I?”

When he got no response, he shoved Robert’s shoulder harder than was necessary, still shouting. “Tell me where you been, Robert!” And then, much quieter, “I was worried off my ‘ead about you!”

And that was it, wasn’t it? He was angry because he’d upped and left without a word, sacked off with his sleeping bag one night without saying goodbye. He’d been gone for two weeks and - Aaron had worried. Aaron had missed him.

That’s when Robert finally raised his head to look at him - and Aaron swore under his breath, because on Robert’s face was a fresh bruise, bright purple-black and shining, covering his left eye and cheekbone. His lip was split and bleeding. He was so pale, the freckles that starred his cheeks and the bridge of his nose stood out like spots of blood on white paint.

“I’m sorry,” Robert croaked, wincing around his split lip. “I thought - I tried to be more like I’m supposed to be. Brave. Proud, I s’pose. Didn’t work.”

“Shit, Rob,” Aaron said, falling to his knees on the grass, his fingers itching to wipe away the tears he could see were clinging to Robert’s eyelashes. Long eyelashes they were, like a girl’s. He remembered teasing Robert about them the first time they’d shared the same sleeping spot, close enough that he could feel his breath on his face. “What did ya do, muppet?”

“Went back, didn’t I?” Robert grunted. “Tried to stick up for meself. Show my dad that he…that I….that he couldn’t push me around just because I’m -”

“Different,” Aaron finished for him. Robert nodded, and the penny dropped. “Well, bloody hell.”

“He gave me this,” Robert pointed to his blackened eye, “‘cause I tried to tell ‘im that there was nothin’ to be ashamed of. Me, being, y’know,” he took a shaky breath, “liking blokes and girls both. Said I was off my head, clearly deluded, and - that I was no son of his.”

“Fuck him,” Aaron hissed through his teeth. “Fuck him, Robert, just - fuck!” He stood up, brushing the grass from his knees, kicked his bag over just for something to do instead of - well, the desire to wring Jack Sugden’s neck. It wasn’t far off the hatred he felt for his own father, and that was saying something. “Why did ya do it, Robert? Why did ya go back there, after everything?”

“I told ya,” Robert replied. “I wanted to stand up to him.”

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” Aaron snapped. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. “God, you’re - you’re so stupid, Robert! After everythin’ I told ya, you just - go and do the exact opposite of what we decided!”

“I did it because of you!” Robert shouted back, standing up his full height. “Don’t ya get it? I did it for you. Because you’re - you’re so much braver than I am. You don’t care what people think, ya just - do things. You told me not to be ashamed so I wasn’t ashamed. You told me to be brave, so I was brave. Everything I’ve done since I met you has been for you.”

“What the hell are ya even talkin’ about? I didn’t mean to go back to your old house and get yourself beaten up again, you-”

“Don’t you see?” Robert begged, interrupting him, and Aaron saw tears shining in his eyes, turning them a brilliant blue, searing straight into his heart like daggers. “I did it all for you. It’s you, Aaron,” he said, choking on a hoarse whisper, “You make me want things I can’t have.”

“Like what?” Aaron dared him. Part of him knew what the answer would be, but he was absolutely terrified of hearing it.

“You know what,” Robert said quietly, so quietly that Aaron would have missed his words entirely if he hadn’t seen his lips move. and in seconds he was stepping up to Aaron, ducking his head, and pressing his lips to his in a soft, gentle, chaste kiss that tasted like blood and salt and everything Aaron had ever feared but still desired, deep in his heart, as if he wasn’t shit scared most of the time and running, always running, from his terrible past and worst secret.

He’d feared it because of what his….dad, had done to him.

He’d feared it because his mum didn’t want him.

He’d feared it because Robert was the reason he got angry, lashed out, did stupid impulsive stuff like try to nick a full bottle of whiskey off an alkie vagrant passed out in the doorway of a newsagents’. Because Robert was there. Because he wanted to impress him.

Because even after everything, he still had felt sick with fear when he’d left that night and hadn’t come back for two sodding weeks.

“You know” Robert said, his throat tight, once he’d pulled back from him,“don’t you? You’ve felt it?”

Aaron swallowed, nodded, once, twice, three times. His head was spinning and his lips were burning, like they were on fire. “My dad,” he started, stumbling over his words, “my dad, he-”

“This has nothing to do with your dad,” Robert replied firmly, his blue eyes flashing steel-coloured with sudden anger. “Or mine. Us, what we are, has nothin’ to do with them, alright? This is different.”

“I don’t know how,” Aaron protested, shaking his head. “I don’t know how to - feel normal about it. You. This, this - thing.”

“You don’t have to,” Robert said. “You’ve got me.”

Robert offered Aaron his hand, and he took it out of blinding courage, grasping onto him with as much bravery as he could manage. His palm was warm and soft, and not at all like he’d imagined.

“Robert?”

He blinked, curious. “What?”

“Could ya kiss me again?” Aaron asked.

“Of course,” was the whispered reply. “It’s us against the world from now on.”

This time, he didn’t taste blood. Instead, Robert’s kiss tasted like a promise. It tasted like hope.

#peoplediedrobert #lorna's writing #robron #robron fic #aaron x robert #emmerdale #emmerdale fic #robron au

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